#Dismantled

[screwnames-ihatenames]

Different fics have different vibes right? Like doth has a INCREDIBLY different vibe from like imbi no rest for the weary has a similar vibe from imbi BUT little kid with a death wish has the exact same vibe as imbi and tbh dismantled is the closest anyone’s ever gonna get to matching the vibe of doth but doth has a slightly similar and I mean slightly simple FEEL to dagger in the mirror like do you get it??

Edit: lemonade leak and doth have the EXACT same vibes

[ninja-go-to-therapy]

Dismantled Chapter 10

ao3

happy leap yeap

Trigger Warnings: light mentions of murder

1689 words

Leo was drowning.

He was no Raph, but he was finally beginning to understand why he went savage when separated from his brothers. 

He had never been so desperate. 

As much as they wanted it to, their current method of knocking down every door in New York just wasn’t working. They needed resources. The problem was that the only one that could probably find Donnie was (you guessed it) Donnie himself. 

But where else could they possibly turn? It’s not like they had any other super geniuses on hand. Or even someone with enough resources to make up for it.

Unless… no. That never went well. 

But there was someone that he knew would have resources like that. Resources that would get Donnie home to them that much quicker.

But god, it was risky. And the others would never agree. Or maybe they would. Would they? What if he brought it up and he was shut down? 

Would it be worth it to just… keep it a little bit of a secret? It was always better to ask for forgiveness rather than permission, in his experience, but… this was a whole other thing. This wasn’t stealing a cookie from the cookie jar. This was a dangerous secret mission that could land him in some seriously hot water.

No. He didn’t care what he had to give up in exchange. He didn’t care what the price would be. Whatever it was, he would pay it and it would be worth it. His family would get over it, if it let them find Donnie alive.

He’d made up his mind. He was going to pay a little visit to the Hidden City’s favorite crime lord.

------

With his ōdachi on hand, sneaking out wasn’t the hard part. That would be everything that came after he landed in a heap on the floor of Big Mama’s office. 

If she was surprised at his rough entrance, she didn’t show it. She didn’t even look at him at first, reading over some papers in her gross spider claws. Did spiders have claws? Wait, that didn’t matter.

He opened his mouth to explain himself, but before he could get a single word out, she put up a… hand? He really wasn’t sure, but again, irrelevant. Anyway, she put up a hand or something, eyes not once leaving whatever she was so preoccupied with. 

Probably boring business stuff. Maybe taxes? Did someone like her even pay taxes?

He dusted himself off, sitting down in the chair he’d just slightly missed in his tumble through the portal. He sat up straight, crossing his arms and hoping that he was portraying just how serious he was. He wasn’t use to that, but there was a first time for everything.

After several minutes of Big Mama slowly (and he meant slowly, he was sure she was doing it on purpose) sifting through her forms, she finally straightened the stack with a few taps on her desk, before setting them down neatly.

Finally, she looked up, addressing him for the first time in the many minutes he’d been waiting around. “What a splendid surprise,” she said with a smile that oozed false sweetness. “To what do I owe the pleasure, turtley-boo?”

His stomach churned with anxiety. This was such a bad idea. Especially considering it could have been her who had taken Donnie all along! But… no, he’d made up his mind. He’d face the consequences it would bring. 

“My brother has gone missing,” he finally offered through grit teeth.

She nodded. “So I’ve heard! Quite the tragic tale, but I’m afraid I haven’t got a diddly-do to do with that!”

Big Mama was a lot of things. A liar, a manipulator, a crime lord… the list went on. But the most important thing she was? Flashy. If she’d taken Donnie, the whole yokai-world would know about it. So, against his better judgment… he was actually inclined to believe her. 

“I know,” he said, slumping slightly into his seat. That wasn’t to say he was letting his guard down. He’d be a fool to fall prey to her tricks again. “I want to…” was he really doing this?

The fear of what could have already become of his twin was enough to get the words out. “I want to make a deal.”

In an instant, Big Mama perked up, her many eyes zeroing in on him. “Oh, well why didn’t you say so, turtley-boo? What type of deal are we talking?”

No going back. He just had to commit. For his family. “I need your help,” he said, spitting it out before he could change his mind. “With your resources, finding Donnie will go so much faster and… I don’t know how much time he has left.”

“Ooh, tracking down a taken turtle sounds like quite the tiresome task! You do realize payment will be rather… high?”

Leo set his jaw, nodding. He knew. He knew, and it would be worth it. “Name your price, spider lady.”

She was grinning. He felt a lot like a fly wandering into her web.

------

Mikey closed the door of his bedroom as slowly and quietly as he could, one hand against the frame to reduce the noise of it finally clicking shut. He let out a breath, turning around — only to nearly crash into Leo.

He just barely stopped himself from colliding with his brother, falling back against the wall in his effort to re-direct himself. Leo stared at him with wide eyes. Aw, shit, he was totally busted.

Don’t give anything away, he told himself. Leo might not know what he was actually doing!

“Whatcha doing?” 

Mikey laughed awkwardly. “Oh, me? I was just gonna go to bed early… and stuff.”

“Okay.”

Wait, seriously? That had been easy.

“I think… I think I’m gonna do the same thing,” he agreed, punctuated with a heavy yawn. “G’night, Mike.”

“Night,” he echoed softly, watching until Leo stumbled down the hall to his own bedroom. The guy really did look exhausted, for some reason. But as far as Mikey knew, he hadn’t been out searching or anything, and that’s all they’d really been doing recently… 

But hey, Leo hadn’t questioned him, and that was what mattered, right now. He couldn’t believe he’d bought that!

Satisfied that no one else would come out to catch him, Mikey continued to the nearest sewer grate. 

It wasn’t that Mikey wanted to lie to his brothers. It was just that the only way he could do anyone any good was by going behind their backs! 

Here was the thing. He’d only initially planned to give a starving used-to-be-supervillain some food once. But he’d sort of… gone back a few times afterwards.

If the others knew, they’d put a stop to it immediately! They wouldn’t trust Draxum as far as they could throw him! That wasn’t to say that even Mikey fully trusted him yet… but he’d yet to try anything. And that spoke volumes, didn’t it? Even when he had been a bad guy, he’d never tried to really manipulate them into joining him. He figured that if he did try anything, it would be an outright attack. And… considering his state right now, Mikey kind of doubted that.

Generally, he could read people. Pretty well, if he did say so himself. Draxum just kind of seemed like a harmless, sad, and bitter old man now. It was just like the movie Up! Mikey had been a Todd Scout… so yeah, it was basically the same.

And slowly but surely, the Baron had begun to open up (not without a fight, of course). With just a little more time, he could start worming some knowledge out of him! And… even if he couldn’t, it wasn’t like rehabilitating the guy was a waste of time. Pushing someone from supervillainy to civilian…y, was still a good thing.

If Mikey couldn’t help Donnie, at least he could help someone. But oh, he would help Donnie. He wouldn’t stop until he did.

------

“So…” Mikey began as he took a bite of his food, “is there like… some kind of locator spell you might know of? Y’know… for people?”

From across the picnic table they’d settled at, Draxum chewed his rice, eyes narrowed at the orange-banded turtle. 

Mikey had been experimenting with different human cuisines, determined to figure out what Draxum did and didn’t like. He hadn’t threatened his life yet, so he’d kept coming back with new foods for him to try. He figured that for a homeless guy, he wasn’t really in the position to pass up free food. Tonight was Chinese take-out, complete with the fortune cookies.

“You’re not going to stop bothering me about this, are you?” he finally asked with a tired sigh.

Mikey’s beak twitched into a semi-apologetic frown. “Im sorry, I just — I know you can help. And I can repay you! I’m not like, super liquid right now, but I can do something else!”

Draxum looked unimpressed. “What could you possibly offer me?”

“Well, besides giving you free food all the time — you’re welcome,” he snarked, taking a moment to wrack his brain. “Uhh… okay, I don’t know right now, but I swear I’ll do whatever — I will literally get you an apartment, dude, just please help me.”

“An… apartment?” he asked, like he wasn’t entirely sure what that was. Yokai did have apartments, didn’t they?

“Think about it,” Mikey said, the idea coming to life in his brain, “you would have a roof over your head — protection from the elements! A place to store extra food!”

“And how exactly do you plan to do this?”

“Don’t… don’t even worry about that. I’ll figure it out. Are you in?”

Draxum just stared at him for a long time, the food all but forgotten. Finally, he let out a drawn-out groan. “Fine.”

“Ohmigosh, really?” Mikey squealed.

“Yes,” he sighed, “but don’t make me regret this.”

“Oh, you won’t! This’ll be awesome! Where do we start? What kinda mystic mojo do you got in that big old brain of yours?” “We start,” he said, already exasperated, “at the market.”

[postcard-from-the-past]

12-13th century Hambye Abbey, dismantled by the locals after the French Revolution as they used it as a quarry, Normandy region of France

French vintage postcard

[heart-songs]

I am a collection of dismantled almosts.

Anne Sexton

[saltlakehardcoreflyers]

[dailyworldecho]

[thebibliosphere]

I think I just aged about a bajillion years. I just had to explain a) why a landline phone needed to be plugged into the wall and b) what a switch hook is (the thing under the phone cradle that depresses when you put the handset back on its base, ending the call) and the person I was explaining it to was so enamored like golly gee, you sure do know a lot about 20th century technology.

*shakes fist playfully but gently lest my dusty arm fall off* whipper snappers

[proxycrit]

DAY 27- NORTH LOMEI LABYRINTH ISLAND

I can’t believe Purah finally gave them more of the main quest (Purah’s defense is it’s hard to herd our heroes when they hold the collective brain cell of a bag of cats.)

This totk au is called familiar familiar! It’s a what if zelda doesnt go back in time and draws from elements in botw a lot more then from its source material. Flourish with me.

((Wanna support this work and look at my sketchbook at the same time? Check out my patreon!))

Bonus treat:

[moniquill]

You folks know that there is nothing inherently dangerous about penises, right? They don't emit radiation or anything. You will not be harmed by being in the same room as a penis.

[ninja-go-to-therapy]

Dismantled Chapter 11

ao3

exposition in MY fic? no way

1207 words

The market was an interesting place, filled with shops of all shapes and sizes, tables displaying hundreds of different items. There was so much, Mikey wasn’t even sure where to start. Luckily, he had Draxum with him. 

They hadn’t been able to acquire a cloaking brooch, so they’d settled for a plain old cloak. It covered the man well enough, and so far, they hadn’t been stopped. Mikey considered that a win! And if anybody did recognize the goat, he’d just hit them with his sick ninja skills. Nothing could go wrong!

Unless of course, his family realized that he wasn’t home. Or if they got outnumbered by people who realized who was under the cloak. Or, you know, any number of things, but he was trying to stay optimistic here. 

“Where to?” he asked, looking up at his considerably taller companion. “Are we getting supplies for that locator spell?”

Draxum sighed. “It likely won’t be that simple.”

It never was, was it? “How come?”

“While locator spells can be used on people, I would imagine whoever took the purple one would have precautions in place against something like that.”

Mikey frowned. “What… what kind of precautions?”

“A blocker of some kind, probably. He’s likely… ‘off the map’, as they say.”

“But… not for sure?”

“If his captor is a fool. There’s no harm in trying, at least.”

That’s all he could hope for, at this point. “Alright, what do we need to get?”

The list was actually a lot shorter than he’d been anticipating. He didn’t really know much about mystics, but a locator spell did sound pretty simple, in theory. 

The biggest problem was that Draxum didn’t really know where he was going. Apparently, it had been a long time since he’d been here, and the cloak did make it kind of hard to see. That left it up to Mikey to read out signs, directing them around to the best of his ability.

That also meant that every time he got distracted, there wasn’t a whole lot Draxum could do about it.

“Whoa,” Mikey said as they walked through shops on the outermost edge of the place, some tucked into shadowy corners that only seemed slightly illegal. “What does this one do—?” He asked, reaching for a cylinder of a glowing pink liquid. 

Draxum smacked his hand away before he could actually grab it. “Don’t touch that.”

“Why not?” He whined, before gasping. “Does it explode?”

“What — no, of course not,” he scoffed, ushering Mikey away from the booth.

When it seemed like he wasn’t going to elaborate, Mikey stared at him. “So… what does it do, then?”

Draxum sighed. “I’m surprised that vendor even had it out. Its uses are very powerful and very… controversial. As well as incredibly easy to screw up. Even I wouldn’t be fully confident in using it.”

“What is it?”

“It’s — if I’m identifying it correctly, which of course I am — what’s known as a linking potion. A form of magic that is commonly known as — ugh — an ‘emotion potion’.” 

“Hell yeah, I love a good rhyme! Uh, sorry. What’s a linking potion?”

“It was initially created to assist in overcoming mental blocks; fears and phobias. The idea was that it would be able to link nearly any two concepts in one’s mind. A fear linked with calm can practically eliminate it.”

Mikey turned over the thought in his mind. “But people used it for… other stuff, too?”

He nodded. “Hence the controversy. It was more difficult than expected to get the intended result — and far too easy to plant unwelcome associations in the subject’s head. Mind magic is tricky… especially of this sort. Not to mention how exceedingly powerful it is, and nearly impossible to break.”

“So like… if we used it to help get Donnie over his beach ball thing—?”

“I don’t know what that even means, but no. Well — in theory it could work like that, but firstly, it’s far too dangerous to actually attempt, and secondly, the purple one would actually have to be here.”

Mikey withered at the reminder.

“Now, need I remind you that we came here with a goal?”

No. No he didn’t. The search continued. 

------

“Wait, I’m doing this?”

“Of course you are. It’s your brother, is it not?”

“Well, yeah, but I know literally nothing about all this magic stuff!”

“Mystic,” Draxum corrected. “And I will be guiding you, obviously. Since you insist I do this, you’ll be learning, too.”

“Oh, sick,” he said with an enthused nod. “I’ve always wanted to learn this stuff! What do I do first?”

“Place an item of Purple’s in the bowl.”

Mikey pulled out the chosen item — a kind of gross old toothbrush. He dropped it into the bowl, which was a plastic one with cartoon depictions of Mrs. Cuddles all over it. He suppressed a shudder.

“Did this have to be the bowl we used?” He asked.

Draxum glared at him. “Apologies that my lab and everything in it is not available to me at this time.”

“Yeah, I know, but you couldn’t have found any other bowl—? Yeah, haha, anyways… what next?”

About twenty minutes later and a head stuffed full of new mystic mumbo jumbo, they were ready to go. If this was what school was like, Mikey did not envy April.

“Activate it, now,” Draxum instructed, and with bated breath, Mikey did.

He hoped against all hope that it would give him something, anything… watching and waiting for it to work. Please work. 

His heart hammered as he imagined what the next hour could look like: going home to his brothers with the news that he’d actually found Donnie. The overwhelming relief they’d all feel when they finally had him home safe. It was so close, he could practically reach out and touch it…

Nothing happened.

Mikey tapped the bowl, looking to Draxum in a panic. “Did I do it wrong?” He asked, eyes watery.

“No. It seems to be as I thought… there is a blocker on him. I am… sorry.”

Oh. So that was — that was fine, that was… tears filled his eyes, and he furiously blinked them back. He’d really thought this was it.

Draxum looked awkward, clearly not used to displays of emotion. One of the many reasons Mikey was trying not to cry right now. 

“There are other things we can try,” he suggested in a stilted tone. “Spells more complicated than this will take some training, but they may be able to break through the barrier hiding the purple one.”

Mikey sniffled, wiping his eyes. “Are you saying you’re gonna… train me to do mystic stuff? To help me find Donnie?”

“I… suppose I am?” He cringed, as though he were already regretting it. “You would make… a worthy student.”

Overwhelmed once more, Mikey threw his arms around the man, hugging him tight despite the stiff form Draxum held.

“Oh, thank you!” He gasped, “thank you so so much!”

“Yes, yes… don’t mention it.”

Well, that would be no problem. He especially couldn’t tell his family that he was going to be training with their former number one bad guy. They’d flip out!

But it would pay off. He just knew it. 

[dappermouth]

Is it just me or does some of your new work seem ai generated? At the very least the composition seems a bit artificial. I’ve noticed that with a lot of artists not just you so I was wondering.

yeah it’s just you dude

[brainrotcharacters]

the easy grip on the knife. the leg over the seat. the hand over the other seat. the sassy "come get it" move. you know the bitch is smiling behind that mask even as he said the line.

[saltlakehardcoreflyers]

[dailyworldecho]

[tenth-sentence]

"(...) The dwelling was dismantled; but we could see a white man had lived there not very long ago. (...)"

"Heart of Darkness" - Joseph Conrad

[captainadwen]

Damian Wayne vs the World

Sixteen year old Damian Wayne is on the hunt for a younger sibling. Being more discerning than Bruce 'child collector' Wayne, Damian's firm criteria for Batman's latest adoption problem includes but is not limited to: black haired, blue-eyed, tolerable humor, not evil, and most importantly - younger than Damian.

Lucky for him, fourteen year old newbie vigilante Danny Fenton is the perfect fit. Now, to fulfill his end of their deal, Damian must defeat the evil government organization hunting Danny in order to gain a baby brother.

Or, @livinghalfway your post made my brain go !! but in such a different way I figured it was better to make a separate post, hope you don't mind/enjoy still

~~

Damian Wayne re-entered Tim Drake's life like a gnat revealing itself in a closed bedroom space. Tim was in t-shirt and a boxers, maneuvering ramen into his mouth with one hand and scribbling out an epiphany on a murder case with another, when Damian's demonic dulcet voice echoed down from the ceiling. "Drake," said Damian, judgemental, "You live like this?"

Tim nearly choked on his ramen, because the day Damian doesn't attempt to murder him - however doubtfully accidental this incident might be - is the day Darkseid decides to be friends with the Justice League. "Fucking knock," Tim coughed out. "And get out. No one invited you in."

"Put better traps if you don't want me here," said Damian, dropping from the ceiling where he'd crawled in on wall-clamps.

"This is my apartment," said Tim. "It's called courtesy."

Damian sniffed. He padded around to Tim's desk and frowns at his cases, then said, with no further lead up, "I need your assistance."

"No," said Tim.

"You did not even listen to my request."

"Don't need to," said Tim. "Answer's still no. Door is that way. Bye."

"Father says mutually assisting each other is beneficial," said Damian.

"Father," said Tim sarcastically, "blamed me for you exploding a glitter bomb in the batcave two weeks ago."

"That is your fault for not being able to provide evidence to the contrary in an appropriately efficient manner," said Damian. He squinted down at Tim. "And he apologized. Eventually."

"I would not have glittered the batcomputer," said Tim. "Do you know how much of a pain in the ass it is to backup those servers? No, because you don't like tech work, you just profit off it."

"Blaming me for Father's mistake," said Damian, "Most mature of you. But we must put our differences aside. I have selected a new family member and I need you to dismantle a government organization."

That drew Tim up short. He blinked down at his ramen as though it might explain Damian's words to him, but the ramen remained disappointingly uninformative. "Repeat that," said Tim, gesturing with his chopsticks. "Slower, and with more detail."

Damian pulled out his phone and sent him an email. Silence surrounded them in the brief moment it took Tim to set aside his chopsticks and open the email. The subject line was titled 'New Baby Brother', which birthed all sorts of horrifying nightmares of Damian Part 2: Demon Child Boogaloo. The teen in the inserted picture, however, was reassuringly not in possession of Damian's bone structure.

He did have black hair and blue eyes. "Who am I looking at?" asked Tim.

"Daniel Fenton," said Damian. "He is fourteen years old, enjoys puns, and has recently awakened 'ghost powers' that allow him to transform into the vigilante Phantom to fight other ghosts."

"Is he also an orphan with a tragic backstory?"

"No," said Damian, and Tim relaxed. "But that will not be an issue. We can share custody if they cannot be removed from the picture."

"Jesus H, kid."

"I am joking, of course," said Damian blandly. "Murder is wrong."

"Ha ha," said Tim. "If he has parents already he's not joining our menagerie."

"He will," said Damian, with a smug upwards tilt of his lips. "He and I have a deal."

"So you're coercing him in addition to stalking him. Anything else you want to share with the class?"

Damian considered this query with a serious frown, which was how Tim knew this was not a flight of fancy or a very early midlife crisis (although with their lifestyle and Damian already having died before...).

"He has," said Damian after a moment, "a rogue that calls himself 'The Master of all Technology' and is a technopath." This was clearly meant to be of interest to Tim, and not to be a stereotype, but it kind of was.

"Great." Tim turned his attention back to the email the demon child sent him. He scanned through it quickly. There was apparently a secret and evil government organization dedicated to the investigation and extermination of 'ghosts' and other paranormal creatures in the world. Their latest efforts were focused on the town of Amity Park, Illinois, which was 'infested with ectoplasmic pests'. Their words, not Damian's. (It was specified in the email.)

"Okay," Tim drummed his fingers against his desk. "Before I help you defeat this secret evil government organization so that," he opened the email attachment with a contract on it and squinted at the legalese, "this poor newbie teen you've harassed into signing this joins the family in exchange."

"I did not harass him," Damian huffed. "It was a gentleman's agreement."

"Does he know that?"

"I am not a politician, Drake. I thoroughly explained the terms and legalities before presenting any contract. Now ask your question."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because," said Damian, tone implying 'you are stupid and haven't noticed something obvious, idiot'. "Father has begun saying he misses the noise around the manor and looking wistfully at old pictures."

"We still live there though?" said Tim. Damian looked flatly at him. "Sometimes."

"If you lived there frequently enough," said Damian, "you would already know Father is having...empty nest syndrome." Damian sounded disgusted. "I refuse to tolerate whatever inadequate and incompetent child he will find."

"So instead you found an incompetent and inadequate child for him?"

"Don't be stupid, Drake," said Damian. "I would not have chosen someone inadequate. Daniel is merely lacking formal training. Father can rectify this. It will keep him occupied for at least the next two to four years, which gives me enough time to find another black-haired, blue-eyed, tolerable child I approve of to be his successor and my second younger sibling." Damian paused. "Or until one of you procreates and gives him a grandchild."

"You're really serious about this," Tim whispered in horrified awe.

"I am serious about everything I do," said Damian. "Now, you will help me defeat this evil government organization so that our new sibling joins us."

"Okay," said Tim, but his mind snagged on a minor, throwaway detail, so utterly in odds with Damian 'Demonic Jealous Child' Al Ghul it surely came from another person - "Did you just call this kid your successor?"