#tower whump

[mikakuna]

i am once again begging for jason fic recs but this time i'm gonna be more specific. pls plsss share any fics you guys have read that doesn't include pit madness, jason apologizing to tim, jason feeling bad about what he did to tim, or anything to do with tim. if it has to do with tim, i hope it's someone acknowledging tim's role in badmouthing robin jason (literally impossible i think) or them only having a relationship if it's not built on jason feeling guilty and tim being a baby twink

[creative-caramel-coffee]

The Spiders Sister - Chapter 5

Summary: Reader gets ready with her girls for a stark party.

TW: mentions / discussion of overstimulation, mentions of parties (ew)

Words: 2.4K

A/n Sorry for the late update, I started writing this at 2am on two hours of sleep and then my grandma ended up in the hospital and I had to drive eight hours to see her. Oh… and uni went back so I have like ten assignments.

You had been sleeping for about an hour and a half before beginning to stir. You shifted in your sleep a few times indicating you were close to waking up.

Wanda had been reading because you were still curled around her leg like a baby sloth and despite having no issue with being your personal pillow, it did mean she was unable to leave without waking you.

The redheaded witch had one hand nestled in your hair as she gently massaged your scalp while holding her book with the other hand and using her magic to turn the pages.

You had one leg thrown over her calve as your arms were wrapped around her thigh with your cheek resting on the top of it.

As you begun to shift around more you had began detangling yourself from Wanda, she took note of your waking state and placed the bookmark into the spine of her novel before turning and setting it down on the bedside table.

She sent a quick text to Natasha to let her know you would be up soon, before shifting her gaze back to you to admire your sleepy expression.

While you slept your features were so much more relaxed, your guard was down and the small crinkle in your brow was gone. Wanda had to hold herself back from running her thumb between your eyebrows at the sight of the usually tense skin sitting smooth and flat.

She knew you had a small headache most of the time just from the way you acted. The way your hands drifted to your temples to massage them when it got bad. The way your brow never sat flat unless you were sleeping. Or maybe it was the way you winced when Thor was being too loud that had tipped her off.

Regardless as to what it was that had alerted her to your hidden headaches, she could figure out or at least assume it was due to what pepper had said about your powers.

With them dialling up your senses it must be the cause of your day to day discomfort even if it had seemed to trigger worse than normal at the mall today.

It seemed like something that you had just accepted, after all you didn’t have a permanent solution as of yet.

It also seemed to be something that shifter day to day hour to hour in terms of its severity.

As Wanda had gotten lost in her own mind, you continued wriggling on the bed beside her drawing her attention back to present day you laid beside her.

You mumbled something incoherent before rolling over with a small tired groan that sent Wanda’s heart tripping over itself as your eyes fluttered open.

You sleepily pried your headphones off which had miraculously managed to stay on while you had slept.

Wanda smiled down at you and reached out, rubbing your back gently as she continued drinking in your tired and sleepy expression.

You gave her a slightly crooked grin that did things to her she wasn’t going to repeat.

“Hello sleepyhead.” She said softly, unsure of how you were feeling and also relived she hadn’t tripped over her words. She was optimistic that you were feeling better as you had removed your headphones of your own accord which made for a good sign.

You mumbled out a short “good morning” which made Wanda laugh softly.

Before the two of you could continue there was a light knock on the door. Wanda softly called for them to come in and Nat slipped through the doorway and into the room.

She came and sat down on the bed beside you so you were between the two women.

“Hey Y/n/n, how are you feeling?” Nat asked.

“‘M alright. A bit tired still, but my headaches gone, and it doesn’t feel like everything’s too much anymore.” You mumbled rubbing a balled fist at your eyes tiredly.

“That’s good.” Wanda said with a smile.

You sniffled, sitting up properly.

“Are you feeling well enough for a party?” Nat asked.

“What party?” You asked sitting up a little taller.

“Tony’s throwing a party to welcome you to the team.” Wanda said.

“That’s why we went dress shopping dumb-dumb.” Nat said rolling her eyes playfully.

You simply looked at them and blinked.

“Y/n? You ok?” Wanda asked.

“I think we broke her.” Nat said masking her mild concern at your lack of reaction.

“I’m fine.” You said snapping out of it.

“So?” Wanda asked.

“So?…” you asked.

“The party. You excited?” Wanda pressed and you shrugged non-committedly.

“I guess.” You said.

“You guess?” Nat said sounding exasperated. “What does that even mean?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t really been to many parties. I’m more of a stay in and watch a movie kinda girly.” You said.

“If parties aren’t your thing you don’t have to stay for all of it.” Wanda said, “But you do have to make an appearance, because Stark’s throwing it for you.” She said looking apologetic.

“Wait a second,” you began looking panicked. “I don’t want people to know who I am. How will Stark throw a party to welcome me to the team without everyone finding out who I am. I mean I wouldn’t hate it but I don’t want people to know and it puts peter at risk and-“ you rambled.

“Y/n.” Wanda said but you continued to spiral. “Y/n! Listen to me.” She said taking your hands in hers. Your eyes snapped to meet hers. “Calm down. It’s not a huge party, its just the avengers and anyone else who is important to the team as well as a few SHEILD agents. Only people who already know peter is spiderman. It’s a small thing.” She reassured and you breathed a sigh of relief.

“Oh?” You asked feeling a bit better. “Who’s coming?” You asked getting a little curious as to who knew of your little brothers alter ego.

“Well Carol is going to swing by because she’s in the area. I think the guardians are busy. All the avengers will be there some of which I don’t think you have met yet. Peppers coming. Director fury is coming by to congratulate you, I think. Maria, an old friend of Nat’s. Doctor strange avoids us at all costs since the last time New York needed to be deep cleaned with his magic so he won’t be coming I don’t think. Shuri is probably busy. Rhodey one of Stark’s friends will drop by probably. Scott lang and his daughter my be coming. And Thor is bringing his brother Loki who sometimes stays at the tower. He’s kind of an honorary avenger. Bruce will probably be hiding in his lab. I think stark invited your aunt. And of course…” Wanda said trailing off to look at Nat who rolled her eyes.

“My sister, Yelena and her best friend Kate bishop.” Nat finished for Wanda.

“So… a few people.” You said with a chuckle.

“You could say that.” Wanda smiled.

“And all these people know my brother's real identity?” You asked.

“Yes. They’ve known peter for a while most of them since the incident in Germany, but some only met him more recently when we fought the big purple grape.” Nat pitched in.

“About that…” you said looking at Nat.

“Oh … you're wondering how I survived when practically every channel on the TV was saying I died?” Nat said looking amused.

“Um… kinda, yeah.” You said. “Is that rude?”

“No. After Tony snapped, I returned with the others who blipped, and we used the time stone to go back and save Tony.” Nat shrugged.

“Okay…” you said nodding slowly. “So just another day in the office?” You grinned.

“Pretty much.” Nat said mirroring your look with a bemused smile.

“Now.” Wanda said clapping her hands. “No more stalling. The party is in two hours and we need to get ready.” The witch looked very excited at this revelation and the idea of getting ready with you and Natasha.

“Alright.” You smiled, “what are you thinking wands?”

“Well Nat is amazing at braiding so she can do hair while I do makeup.” Wanda was practically buzzing where she stood looking like she had just eaten three kilos of sugar.

“Who’s first?” You asked looked between them.

“Wanda can start on your makeup while I braid my own hair first.” Nat said with a fond smile.

“Sounds good to me.” Wanda said getting up off the bed. “Where do you keep your makeup?” She asked looking around the room.

“Um … about that … I don’t have any.” You said and Wanda looked surprised for a second before perking up again.

“I think I have some in your skin tone.” She said “I’ll be right back, stay here.” Wanda grinned before taking off out the door to presumably head to her own room.

“She love this stuff doesn’t she?” You said turning to Natasha who was expertly separating her hair into sections with her nimble fingers.

“Oh yeah.” Nat said looking amused. “She lives for this kind of thing.”

“Of course she does.” You said playfully rolling your eyes. “She’s stunning even without makeup.” You said not meaning to let that slip as Nat raised an eyebrow in amusement.

“Oh yeah?” Nat asked.

“I-I mean you are too. Don’t get me wrong. Your both hot and…” you said before groaning and covering your face with your hands.

“Thanks, hot stuff you're not so bad yourself.” Nat grinned patting your leg with her hand while the other held her partially done braid together.

You must have looked like a tomato by the time Wanda came back. She laughed when she saw you sat there looking flustered.

“Oh, Nat what have you done.” She chuckled sending shivers down your spine. “I don’t think I have that skin tone.” She joked and you covered your face again.

Wanda sat beside you on the bed and gently reached out to pry your hands off your face.

“None of that, show me those pretty eyes baby.” Wanda said softly and you pouted at her with a little frown.

“Your too cute.” Natasha said as she finished one braid off with a hand before starting on the next. She planned to pin it into a fancy up-do when she finished the two braids.

You sat up on the bed, folding your legs under you in a Criss-cross pattern while wanda mirrored the pose facing you.

“Alright.” Wanda said. “What kind of look do you want to go for?” She asked.

“I don’t know much about makeup so whatever you think would be best.” You shrugged and Wanda nodded thoughtfully.

“Alright.” She said after a minute of deliberation. “I have an idea. Close your eyes we’re starting with the eye makeup.” Wanda said as she fished around in her makeup kit before pulling out some tape.

Wanda cut and short piece and lined it up tin the edge of your eyes before lightly dusting some black eyeshadow over it. When she brought her finger up to blend it out your breath hitched slightly at the feel of her fingertips on your skin and you prayed she didn’t notice.

Wanda continued working silently. Putting silver eyeshadow on and continuing to blend with her finger.

She removed the tape and curled your eyelashes before adding a waterproof mascara.

The concealer was cold when Wanda applied it and it was refreshing in a way. The way it covered the space under your eyes made you seem much less tired than you normally looked as an ever long suffering insomniac.

Once she had dusted your cheeks with a light blush and put on the finishing details you took note of how her lip had made its way between her teeth, wether from concentration or admiration you were unsure but it was cute regardless.

“Done.” Wanda said and you sighed, not realising the close proximity of her fingers ghosting over your skin had made you subconsciously hold your breath in anticipation.

“You look stunning parker.” Nat said with a little smirk.

“She’s not wrong. You look three-hundred shades of hot right now.” Wanda said and held up a mirror.

Your own breath almost hitched at the person in the mirror.

Wanda had done dark eyes with smoky eyeliner and silver eyeshadow. Your cheekbones were defined and covered in a light blush that shimmered slightly in the light. Your eyelashes looked long and dark bringing out the colour of your eyes.

“Do you like it honey?” Wanda asked.

“I love it.” You said taking your eyes off your reflection to beam at the witch who seemed to preen under your praise.

“Im glad.” Wanda said.

The rest of the time spent getting ready was rather uneventful. Nat’s fingers felt amazing as she grazed your scalp while segmenting and braiding your hair into three sections which Wanda then pinned up into a beautiful spiral.

In the end you were stood dressed in a black dress with an open back, it hugged your curves and showed just the right amount of skin. It had an ankle cut with a slit that reached to your mid thigh. It was strapless with a black ribbon holding the back together in a way that exposed plenty of tanned skin.

You had black heels with silver rhinestones which matched your silver jewellery. You wore a think silver chair and simple hoop earrings. Your rings and jewellery were all your own that you never took off and you always paired it to your outfits and not the other way around.

Wanda placed a hand on your shoulder startling you out of your own thoughts.

“You look amazing stop fretting.” She said. “If you want you can stay with either Nat or I the whole night if it helps with the anxiety.” She posed looking slightly hopeful you would agree to spend the night on her arm.

“I would love that.” You said softly and Wanda nodded happily.

“Then it shall be so my lady. Right this way.” She said swooping into a low bow and taking you on her arm and leading you down the hall.

The party wasn’t as loud as you had been expecting. Part of you had been worried of another issue with your spider senses in such close succession to the attack earlier today, but it seemed that would not be an issue today at least.

Part 6

@tia-thesimp @lizzielillvr @leenasayeed @justarandomreaderxoxo @sycamorelibrary754 @dorabledewdroop @redwolfqueen19 @sadlesbeansstuff

Im sorry to anyone i missed on the taglist it was saying it couldn’t find some of the blogs i was given in the comments (this happens if you change your name as well)

[jicklet]

Megamind Rules! - S01E16 “Thrilling Conclusions!” (1/2)

[kana7o]

May Sketches!

[ferrouswheel11]

You can't be that good. // I am.

Do you think you're that good now?! Do you really, Tim? // Yes.

[aceofwhump]

Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers

[the-three-whumpeteers]

The whumper wasn’t fond of what they were doing- it was too barbaric, too cruel even for them, but their team had decided that the torture of the whumpee was on the whumper’s hands. Half of the time the whumper wouldn’t know what to do, and while that boredom was read as reluctance and regret by the whumpee, it was far from that, the whumper just thought it was all below them.

[erathene]

A Fool's Hope

Summary: Aragorn has returned to Helm's Deep, which is rushing to prepare for the arrival of Isengard's Uruk army. Unfortunately, recent events take a heavy toll on the future king of Gondor, and you struggle with your own doubts as you try to pick up the pieces.

Word count: 2.3k

Pairing: Aragorn & GN!Reader 

Warnings: Whump, loss of consciousness, nausea, Aragorn is Not A Well Man™.

Author's note: It has been years since I've written anything, and real life has been extra busy as I'm now a mum to my 16 month old son. Now I'm starting to get some time back for my own hobbies I've started writing a few fics. Enjoy! 😚

..........................

Thirty sacks of grain, check.

Fifteen barrels of mead, check. 

Ten crates of carrots and twelve of cabbages, check.

Eight bushels of apples, check. 

The scratch of your quill against parchment could scarcely be heard over the hubbub of activity that was swelling through Helm's Deep. The fortress was in full preparation mode, readying for the battle that was to come. It seemed that every citizen had their own duty to fulfil; whether that be sharpening weapons at the grindstone, filling quivers with arrows or reinforcing the main gate.

Things were a little calmer here amongst the supplies and foodstuffs that had been amassed in recent weeks from the many arrivals to the fortress. Crates were neatly stacked one on top of the other whilst large oak barrels lined the thick stone wall. King Théoden had tasked you with tallying all of the rations that had been gathered together and ensuring their safe delivery to the Glittering Caves beyond the keep. To some, it may have appeared a simple task, with no true impact or merit. However, as Keeper of the Granary in Edoras, you knew all too well how plans for a siege could go disastrously awry should there not be adequate supplies to keep the troops fed and watered. The king himself would want to know the exact figures of every product stored, and most importantly how it could be stretched to cover the longest amount of time possible without his soldiers going hungry. It was a crucial part of the battle plans.

Consequently, every note you made on your parchment sheet was checked and re-checked, before the containers were carried off to the caves. The gravity and significance of the task at hand also kept your mind from dwelling on the thought of the thousands of Uruks which would soon be on the doorstep. You were no fighter, and had you not been kept busy with this charge, you might have found yourself completely overwhelmed with the anxiety of the battle ahead. 

"Those three sacks there can go next," you indicated to one of the youths who had been placed under your command for this task. "And ensure they are stored off the ground; we don't want spoiled grain on our hands." You watched as the boy nodded at your instructions and heaved a sack over his shoulder.

You turned back to your parchment paper, studying the values you had written. A few more calculations and you would be ready to present your findings back to the king and his war council, who were due to meet shortly for the final time. Presenting information to all the lords of Edoras may have intimidated some, but to you it seemed wholly insignificant compared to your apprehension of the conflict to come. 

Movement out of the corner of your eye caught your attention and you glanced up quickly. Standing before you was Lord Aragorn, his gaze passing over the various containers that were held in the small area you were working in.

"My lord," you said as you bowed your head respectfully. "Is there something I can do for you?"

This was a paltry suggestion, for the man looked more than worse for wear. You had heard other folk speak of how he had been dragged off the cliff by one of the wolves of Isengard, and how he had ridden day and night to warn Théoden's people of the doom that was marching towards them. Yet nobody had spoken of his impairment. His complexion was pale beneath the dirt and grime of the skirmish and subsequent journey here, which also extended to his hair and clothing. A torn strip of cloth was tied around his upper arm, the crude bandage failing to fully cover an abrasion that was still red and raw underneath. His posture was irregular, likely caused by bruising beneath his garments and a cracked rib or two, and he gripped the hilt of his weapon as an old man would cling to a walking stick. As you took in his appearance, you found yourself morbidly surprised that he was still standing. 

"How are our supplies looking, Grainkeeper?" Aragorn asked, referring to you in the Common Tongue translation of your Rohirric title.

"Satisfactory, my lord," you replied quickly. "We won't be living in luxury, but I believe with careful management of our food stocks, we'll be able to see ourselves through at least a month of war or longer. The majority of the supplies have already been taken to the caves and stored securely. As you can see, we are about to move the final items," you gestured to the remaining crates of legumes and bushels of apples. You reported your findings to him as you would to King Théoden, taking the opportunity to see how the results would be received. 

"Good," he nodded. "That is good."

It didn't escape your attention how his grey eyes became glassy and unmoving as you gave your report, how his hand gripped the pommel of his sword with greater tension than before. "My lord, are you quite well?" you asked tentatively.

Aragorn blinked, returning from his reverie. "Well enough," he nodded with a forced smile. 

You felt less than convinced by his response. Nevertheless, he was a grown man, and it was not your place to fuss over him. With a pretence of curiosity to cover your underlying fears, you asked him about the preparations for the defence of the keep. Truth be told, you had been far too preoccupied in the makeshift open-air storeroom to take much notice of these activities.

"The reservists are being drawn behind the main wall, and archers will be positioned to support the keep," Aragorn said in a monotonous tone, as though he had repeated the battle plans over and over many times already. "King Théoden has sent his scouts to..." His sentence trailed off as he began to blink rapidly, reaching out to steady himself on one of the barrels of mead. Any remaining colour drained from his face as his breath came short and sharp.

Worry surged in your stomach for the man as he swayed dangerously on the spot. "My lord, you really should sit down. Here," you offered kindly, upturning an empty crate for him to use as a makeshift seat. "I'll fetch you some water." 

No sooner had you turned your back, there was an almighty crash as something went tumbling into the awaiting crates and barrels. You spun around on the spot and saw Aragorn sprawled on the floor, surrounded by upturned containers and stray carrots. A few apples rolled past the prone man whose limbs were haphazardly crumpled beneath him. Rushing to his side, you lifted back the mop of dark hair that lined his face; his eyes were half-lidded and his lips parted, as if he were trying to speak but his body was completely betraying him. You called his name, but there was no reaction. Pressing your fingers to his neck, you felt his racing heartbeat echoing in his veins beneath skin that was clammy to the touch. 

You called out to him again, the panic becoming evident in your voice. "Lord Aragorn, can you hear me?" You shook his shoulder vigorously in the hope of rousing him. Just as you were about to dash off to find help, you were rewarded when he let out a low, guttural moan.

"My lord?" 

You could just about make out the "M' fine," he mumbled into the floor. His fists clenched as began to push himself up to sitting, his hair falling over his facial features as he moved.

"Come, rest against the wall here." You gestured a few feet away where there was a gap between the mead barrels and crates. None of the colour had returned to his cheeks yet, and you fretted inwardly about whether he would lose consciousness again as you aided him. Soon enough, however, the man was resting against the cool stone, taking in deep and shaking breaths with his eyes firmly shut. 

You rushed to fill a spare flagon with water from a nearby jug, the liquid sloshing as you hurried back to Aragorn. The man opened one eye as you handed him the cup. "I'm fine," he repeated, seeing the concern etched on your face.

"I'm sure you are, my lord," you said grimly. "But it would lessen my worry to see you drink." 

Aragorn extended his hand towards the flagon, but seeing how he shook uncontrollably, you brought the cup to his lips instead. Slowly, he took a few small sips as the flagon tilted.

"Better?" you asked quietly.

"Aye. Thank you," he said. You helped him take a few more sips from the flagon, satisfied by the colouring that was slowly returning to his cheeks. 

Suddenly, another voice called over the barrels. "Lord Aragorn?"

You stood quickly, and saw the voice belonged to the captain of the king's guard, Háma. He looked slightly taken aback by your sudden appearance from behind several barrels. "Captain Háma, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I am looking for Lord Aragorn. King Théoden wishes to see him immediately."

You briefly looked down at Aragorn, who was still slumped behind the barrels. At first he caught your gaze with pleading grey eyes, before his eyelids fell and his head shifted lightly from side to side to convey his refusal. You understood; he wasn't ready, not yet. 

You feigned reaching for your parchment which had been abandoned on top of a nearby barrel, hoping Háma would not be suspicious of your downward glance. "I'm afraid I have not seen him, sir. Perhaps he has gone to the armoury?"

Háma's stern gaze was fixed on you for several moments, before he frowned with disappointment. "I have already looked there, but perhaps we missed each other. As you were, Grainkeeper." He departed the area, his armour and chainmail ringing as he walked.

As soon as the captain rounded the corner, you bent back down behind the storage containers to level with Aragorn.

"Thank you," he breathed. "I am not sure I could have faced the king right now. Not while I have no strength left in me." 

"That's quite alright, Lord Aragorn. Here," you gave him a polite smile before reaching out and offering one of the apples that had been thrown in his fall. 

Aragorn blanched at the sight of the fruit. "I'm not hungry," he grunted through gritted teeth. 

"You said it yourself, you are lacking strength." From your pocket you pulled a small knife, and holding the fruit in your palm you began to slowly remove the apple skin with the edge of the blade. "This should help you recover somewhat." You cut the skinned apple into pieces in your hand, handing the man a wedge. 

Aragorn took the apple piece, but paused for a good minute or two before it entered his mouth. He chewed slowly, grinding the fruit down into a pulp, before he swallowed with a grimace. He looked like he was trying very hard not to vomit. 

You searched for a topic of conversation to draw his focus away from his churning stomach. Unfortunately, the only subject brimming the surface of your thoughts was the feeling of impending doom waiting for the siege to begin; the same feeling you had largely ignored whilst you had been occupied by your work.

You blurted out a question that had been rattling around your mind before you could even consider whether it would be appropriate to ask. "Is it true? There are really ten thousand Uruks marching on us?" 

Aragorn nodded slowly. "I'm afraid so. From the numbers I saw, Isengard is likely to be deserted."

You sighed, unable to mask your pessimism. "Ten thousand against three hundred. So there truly is no hope for us.."

"I disagree," said Aragorn quietly. "We still have hope." 

"Are we not fools to hope at all? Knowing what we are up against?"

"Nay," said Aragorn. "To hope is not foolish. We have a choice; to choose hope over fear. Choosing hope means choosing to believe that there are better days to come, if one has the courage to fight for it. That is not foolish in the slightest."

"No, I suppose not," you said, slightly surprised by the wisdom he demonstrated seemingly beyond his years. 

You suddenly heard your name being called from beyond the barrels. Rising to your feet once more, you saw the young man who had carried a sack of grain to the caves had returned. He stood obediently awaiting his next instructions, but you saw how his eyes curiously travelled around the chaos of upturned crates and loose vegetables that had appeared in his absence. "Never mind the mess now, boy," you shooed him away as soon as he held a crate of cabbages in his arms.  

"I should help you tidy up," Aragorn said firmly. "This is my doing after all."

"Are you sure, my lord?" You worried whether or not he should be standing so soon after his blackout.

"Yes. I insist," he said, slowly rising to his feet.

"That would be appreciated, thank you."

Together, you gathered up the provisions that had been thrown when the man had taken his tumble, and the chaos was soon reorganised back into neatly stacked crates. You looked around to see where you had left your parchment of notes, only to see the man holding them in his outstretched hand. 

"Remember; choose hope over fear," he said, touching your shoulder before taking his leave of you. 

His comment seemed to lighten the very air around you, the weight of complete helplessness clearing from your mind. You turned back to your parchment paper, feeling more resolved than ever to be a part of this final stand against evil, even if it was with a fool's hope.

[psychologeek]

Red Hood

DAY 24: "i'm doing this because i care about you" ALT 10: last man standing

[from Who am I (to disappear))]

Maybe he didn't think it through.

Possibly.

Just, you know, the tiniest bit.

Drugging all the baby heroes to sleep, using aerosol, was a brilliant idea. He'll give it to himself.

Also using his old codes.

Which, honestly? He didn't really think it would work.

Still: great execution. Pun might be intended.

Anyway.

Kid obviously still up in the kitchen, probably working on the post-mission report or some other bullshit.

( The best thing about being dead? No. Fucking. PAPERWORK .)

Sitting with a mug of coffee and

(Is that Zesty? The kid really mixes those poisons together? 

Nuh, of course he would. Like the sleepless workaholic bird he really is.)

They talk, and he already prepared some FUCKING AWESOME monolouge. Vicios and snob and all that. And he beats the kid. Bat won’t take it seriously otherwise. Kid fight as good as he gets.

And then there’s something—

( the worst part? he doesn’t even remember what )

and the Green is all he sees, and–

(No. The worst part is when he sees a bleeding head full of black hair. The worst part is seeing a body, lay down in the bottom of the staircase, as the blood spread around. The worst part is knowing that he did it. That he's just like that fucking clown.)

His alarm beeps. Someone’s trying to enter via Zeta-tube.

(He can’t help tha kid. 

Because it’s a goddamn kid, Jason. 

What’s wrong with you?)

He can’t help the kid, but maybe someone else could?

He release the block he put on the Tubes, and head to the transport room through the secret passage in the walls.

He can't even remember how he got back to Gotham. How he made it to the safehouse. 

All he knows is washing his hands in the rusted sink and staring at a shattered mirror he still sees the abyss and the monsters is inside, now, and his fist–

And everything is red, red, red round him.

Tag bc you may like: @envysparkler @shinekocreator @jasontoddsguns

[letthewhumpbegin]

Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers (2002)

See more of my Lord of the Rings gifs

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Surprise Sparring Match

Wildefire Masterlist

@whumpacabra @enteredin2eternity @kixngiggles @whumpsday @kiichu @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @shywhumpauthor @distinctlywhumpthing , @bloodinkandashes

[astaldis]

Whumperless Whump Event Day 18: Fever dreams, Alt. Seizure

A Hatchet to the Head Part 2 - Chapter 2: The Body

@whumperless-whump-event

Fandom: The Witcher Netflix

Whumpee: Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach

Caretaker: Geralt of Rivia

Chapters: 2/3 Words: 3,701

Summary: Cahir was injured in the fight in Belhaven. Geralt has to take care of his former enemy and his ugly head wound.

It is cold, cold, cold. He shivers in the freezing wind like the tall reeds surrounding him. Why is he standing in a swamp in the middle of the night? Cahir has no idea.

Something is stirring in the eerie mist wafting through the marshlands. The rapid slapping of small wings as the incredibly swift, grey shapes flash by his head. Goatsucker nightjars. A shiver runs down Cahir's spine. Most suspicions are rubbish, he knows it, yet, there are so many of the little birds that are said to be harbingers of misfortune and evil, the air so thick with them that it is a miracle they do not collide with him. And their intermittent churring does sound bloodcurdling. A bad omen after all? He shudders, and it is not from the cold alone ...

[whumpty-dumpty]

I didn't post for a while because we just were on a holiday trip in Italy. Here are some photos. It was a lot of fun!😃

Venice:

Pisa:

Here is part 2 (because I can only post 10 pictures apparently)

[serickswrites]

Two Birds, One Bullet

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Warnings: restraints, captivity, threat of torture, threat of death, gun, falling from a great height, defiant whumpee, forced to choose, potential mcd (emphasis on POTENTIAL)

Whumper circled Whumpee and Caretaker, waving their gun in the air as they spoke. “Well, well, well, looks like I captured two little birds in my net instead of just the one I was wanting.”

Whumpee struggled against the rope around their wrists, barely noticing the painful chafing as they tried to break free. They pushed against Whumper’s goons as they held Whumpee down. “LET CARETAKER GO!”

“Whumpee, it’s ok, it’s ok,” Caretaker whispered. 

Whumpee knew Caretaker was lying. Knew by the fine tremor that wracked their frame. Knew by the look in their eyes. Knew by the way their held their mouth. They knew that Caretaker was terrified and it was all their fault. 

“Why would I do that?” Whumper rounded on Whumpee. “I only wanted you and now I have something precious to you. Maybe then you’ll give me what I want. Just give me a few moments with Caretaker.”

“I will never give you what you want. You hurt one hair on Caretaker’s head, you can kiss this source of information goodbye.”

“Everyone always talks, Whumpee. It’s only a matter of time.”

“I will never, ever, ever tell you.” Whumpee spat the last word out with such venom that Caretaker flinched back and deeper into Whumper’s goons’ arms. 

“We’ll just see about that,” Whumper muttered. They took a deep breath. “Don’t you think this is such a pretty view?” They gestured around them, giving a quick twirl. “Perks of owning a castle.”

“Bit pretentious if you ask me.”

“Whumpee!” Caretaker hissed as one of the goons dug nails into their arms. 

“If you hurt them, I won’t tell you a thing, Whumper! I mean it! Let them go!”

“You are so stubborn,” Whumper rolled their eyes. “Very well, I’ll make you a deal, Whumpee. You get to pick. What happens to my two birds. I only have one bullet in my gun, the bullet that was meant for you.” Whumper grabbed Whumpee by their shirt collar and dragged them to the edge. “You choose, who gets the bullet and who gets to answer my questions.”

“CARETAKER DOESN’T KNOW ANYTHING! LET THEM GO!” Whumpee struggled against Whumper.

Whumper tightened their grip. “Ah, but I can’t be sure. I can’t be sure they don’t know. And letting them go isn’t one of your choices, Whumpee. So do you want me to shoot Caretaker in the head?”

“NO!” Whumpee roared, “LET THEM GO NOW! I WON’T TELL YOU A THING IF YOU HURT THEM! LET THEM GO!” Whumpee yelled, surging forward and headbutting Whumper in the process. 

Whumper put a hand to their forehead. “I wouldn’t say such things if I were you.”

“LET. THEM. GO.” Whumpee’s words were so full of rage that Caretaker flinched back. They had never heard Whumpee act like this before. 

“Bullet for you or for Caretaker.” Whumper got in close once more, running the gun along Whumpee’s jaw. “It could be quick for them. Just a one, two, and poof, Caretaker’s gone. It won’t be quick if you pick you. Can’t blame you though. It would be the cowardly thing to pick you and let them suffer in your place.”

Whumpee growled and surged forward once more, headbutting Whumper even harder. With a roar of rage, Whumper shoved Whumpee backwards. “Fine. No bullet for you.”

Caretaker looked on in horror as Whumper shoved Whumpee once more towards the edge and Whumpee toppled over backwards. “NOOOOO!”

As Whumpee sailed through the air, they could hear Whumper’s laugh. Could hear Caretaker’s screams. And they hoped that Caretaker would be alright. That they wouldn’t pay for Whumpee’s defiance. And that the team would make it in time to save Caretaker. Whumpee couldn’t do it. And the team wouldn’t be in time for them. Because Whumpee was out of time. 

Whumpee closed their eyes a breath before they hit the ground and knew nothing more. 

[aprocessionofthoughts]

Ignore the Doubt

whumptober2023 day 25- storm fandom- batman TW- none summary- Tim and Dick arrive in the cave to find a possibly unconscious Jason Todd.

ao3 whumptober23 masterlist part 4 of WDKY

WIth a roar, Tim’s motorcycle pulled into the cave. He hopped off and headed towards the batcomputer. “Where’s Hood?”

“In the medbay.” Bruce answered not looking away from the computer.

“Why isn’t he in one of the cells?”

“Hng.”

Tim sighed and marched over to the medbay. He froze in the doorway, looking at the unconscious figure that had been shackled to the cot. He looked so familiar. But it couldn’t be. But why else would Bruce have brought him to the  medbay instead of dropped him off for the police?

“Bruce, that looks like…”

“I know.”

“Have you checked?”

“Yes.”

“And?” Tim said getting frustrated with the one word answers even though he knew they wer common from Bruce. He still couldn’t tear his eyes away from the young man on the medical cot.

“The DNA matches Jason Todd.”

Tim inhaled sharply. If this really was Jason, what had happened to him? How was he back? And why…why hadn’t he gone home?

“What are we going to do? Even if he’s… He’s still a crime lord.”

“I’m running the tests again.” Bruce said, and of course he was. He’d probably run them more than ten times before he was even remotely satisfied.

“Do we know how he…”

“There were trace amounts of Lazerus water in his blood.”

“Talia.” Tim whispered. Of course it was her. She just couldn’t keep her nose out of Gotham.

Tim went over and sat in a chair by Hood. They had him connected to an IV, and when Tim checked he saw it contained a light sedative. That was probably for the best. At least until they could run a few more tests.

A while later, Dick pulled in. He was soaked.

“I hope this is important. It started storming when I was halfway here and I’m soaked and freezing.” Dick set his helmet on his bike. “Where’s Hood?”

“In here.” Tim called. “And before you ask why he’s not in a cell, you need to take a look at this.” 

Dick complied and walked over. He froze in the doorway and Tim saw his expression shift from surprise to confusion to grief to a spark of anger and finally settle into neutrality.

“What is this?”

“His DNA matches Jason’s”

“But–”

“We think Talia may be involved.” Tim interrupted. “There were trace amounts of Lazarus water.”

Dick’s expression changed to grief for a brief moment before he stepped forward. Tim saw him taking in Hood’s injuries. His fingers twitched, before he reached out and took one of Hood’s hands in his. “Do you thinks its– do you think it’s really him?”

“Bruce has run the DNA three times, all of which have been a match. Of course we probably can’t confirm until he wakes up, but… But all evidence points to it being Jason.”

Dick’s other hand reached up and he ran his fingers through Jason’s hair. “My little wing.” he whispered and Tim turned away.

He hoped this was Jason, for Bruce and Dick’s sake. But a selfish part of him wanted it to be a lie. He didn’t want to be alone again. He liked hanging out with Bruce and Dick and Alfred. But if this was Jason, that would mean he was no longer necessary. His mind went to an empty house and microwavable meals, an endless cycle of boredom. If this was Jason they wouldn’t need him anymore.

But Tim knew better than to be selfish. Jason had a lot more people that cared about him. It would be incredible if he could come back. The second Robin!

Tim hoped it was Jason and squashed the childish voice inside him that yearned for the Waynes to be his real family. He knew his place.

“Someone needs to check his grave.” Dick said, not looking away from Jason.

Bruce didn’t answer.

“We can do it after he wakes up.” Tim said. “I’m sure we all want answers, and it will be better to ask him directly.”

Dick nodded.

“God, I hope it’s him. If this is a trick…” Dick trailed off.

“Yeah.” 

Dick sighed. “We also need to call Talia.” Dick looked over at Bruce. He hadn’t turned away from the Batcomputer.

“Let’s wait till after he wakes up.” Tim said. They wouldn't be able to get Bruce away from the computer for a long time.

Tim spotted Alfred coming towards them carrying a tray with tea.

“Good evening, Master Dick.”

“Hey, Alfred.” Dick said giing the older man a small smile.

“I must insist you take a warm shower and change into some dry clothes. It will do no one any good if you catch a cold.”

“But–” Dick said looking back at Jason.

“Go on, my boy. I’ll be here to watch over him.”

Dick slumped. “Alright, Alfred.” Dick glanced back one more time before heading for the showers.

“And, Master Bruce. I believe you have looked at those results enough.”

“There could still be a chance that–”

“You can investigate more after– after the grave has been checked.” Alfred said setting the tray by Tim. His hands were trembling slightly.

“Then I’ll contact Tallia.” Tim said. He should leave the family to reunite with Jason in peace. He wouldn't be here much longer, after all.

“That can wait for tomorrow, Master Tim. We all know she is not easy to work with.” Alfred said in a tone of voice that allowed no contradiction. 

Tim sat back down.  

“Now then. Master Bruce, Master Tim, please drink some tea while I disconnect the sedatives from the young sir. But I forbid you from questioning him as soon as he wakes up. He will need time to adjust. Am I understood?” Alfred raised an eyebrow at Bruce.

“Fine.”Alfred walked over to the young man who looked so much like Jason. It was him, Alfred knew his boy. He’d recognize him anywhere, even now two years after he was supposed to be dead. He’d just have to wait for the rest of the family to get over their paranoia.

[starsamongskies]

yk what trope i just fucking eat up in fics, titans tower au’s where jason realises midway through beating up tim that he’s just like the joker and he has a fucking panic attack and runs away, i love that shit