#tw for mention of death

[bigg-city-riders-au]

Sorry if its a bit much, but do you have anything on how Hercules and Zorran got their riders?

I actually do. Tw for death under the cut.

Hercules chose Captain Star as his Rider in the curse!au. However, in the feral!au he doesn't have a set Rider as Captain Star met an untimely end.

Zorran was not so lucky and was forced to bond with Zero in the curse!au. Zero is determined to get the upper hand, even if it means forcing one of his own tugs to bond with him. This technically makes Zero a false Rider as a true Rider is chosen by a tug. This causes a lot of internal turmoil in Zorran, resulting in stress and sometimes even lashing out at his own fleet at times. In the feral!au, he doesn't have a Rider either. Captain Zero also met an untimely end. However, Zorran felt more relief than grief.

[incorrectbatfam]

The only acceptable trans Tim headcanon would be Tim introducing himself to the batfam as a boy from the get-go with such confidence that no one questions him. Then, his first solo case as Robin is investigating the disappearance of Jack and Janet Drake's "daughter," so he pretends to have a twin sister by forging a bunch of documents and photoshopping family pictures. He then fabricates evidence of her death, committing multiple crimes in the process, and holds a fake funeral at the end. Because if his previous name is dead to him, he's gonna kill it the Tim Drake way

[podcastwizard]

ideal ways for me to die

1. old age, peacefully in my sleep

2. after a long and illustrious career i am at a rooftop gala hosted in my honor. i am wearing a beautiful gown, holding a glass of red wine, standing by the railing. a scorned lover approaches and, after a passionate spat, they push me over the edge of the building. the wine glass goes flying, splattering their outfit in red as a visual metaphor for the blood on their hands. as i descend my gown flies around me like two beautiful wings, a bird in flight. a photographer on the street manages to take a photo before i hit the ground and that photo wins the pulitzer. a new york times think piece is released regarding whether or not it's moral to profit off a photo of someone's death. the think piece also wins a pulitzer.

3. sex accident.

[hamsterdads]

having a lot of toh thoughts tonight, so here's a few :] I think that king and the collector would be life partners ( probably platonically, but mostly just whatever keeps them together forever hehe)

i also think the collector would take luz's passing the hardest (given their history with it and all...) and i think she'd know this and do her best to prepare them for it. so here's me trying to deal with all that.

[landrylovesmatcha]

she’s everything 💕

tw: death mention

[bamsara]

Part 2 to this comic

What happened in Darkwood in the meantime?? Dont worry about it

[stars-bean]

ꕥ The Addams Family ꕥ ➛ 2.14 - "Morticia's Dilemma"

[ciderjacks]

dad issues

+

(I think they were all fundamentally affected by what they saw and just collectively decided not to share the upsetting details)

[420technoblazeit]

has anybody else seen the bit in tommy's new video yet. where he asks mumbo jumbo if he can revive technoblade with redstone. bc that actually made my jaw DROP hol yshit. the pause just before he says it. you can hear the gears turning in phil's head as he realizes what tommy's about to say. the immediate psychic damage. truly horrid thank you tommy. ik techno would be losing it over that joke

[thebibliosphere]

I was thinking about this a lot yesterday, but one of the things I really struggle with post almost dying in 2019, was how almost every medical provider focused on the effects of the trauma and not the actual physical fallout.

Like, yes. It was immensely traumatic and trauma profoundly affects the brain, but with hindsight (and by hindsight I mean I’ve been grinding my gears over this for the last four years) I can’t help but feel the ball got lobbed over the “mental health” fence a little too quickly.

I had fucking hypoxia, for God’s sake.

Why was no one more concerned that I can’t remember things or that my skill level as a writer and editor dropped substantially in the aftermath. (I’ve gradually regained most of it, but there are still things I have to pause and look up that were once second nature to me. I hate it. It’s traumatic every time it happens because there’s just a blank hole where Knowledge used to be and God dammit I worked hard for that and now it’s tumbleweed.)

And I know the answer is Covid. I know the world shut down just as I started getting answers and I’m one of the lucky ones because I’m still here. But fuck me. I don’t know how they expected me to CBT and mindfulness my way out of that one.

[incorrectbatfam]

Alfred gets sick of Bruce breaking and losing stuff on patrol so he gets a label maker and starts naming items after the kids

Alfred: I got you a new phone, just like you asked. Its name is Jason. Try not to let it die.

Bruce, tearing up: Why would you say that—

[xan-izme]

𝐌𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞𝐬

Prologue

Your mother was a beautiful kind and dangerous woman. In short. She was a Falcone. And for young Bruce, being with her was a thrill. Being Batman gave him a thrill, but your mother was a different kind of thrill.

Till she got pregnant. And the thrill was gone.

Your mother kept you of course. Counting the days till she gets to hold you in her arms. And when she finally got to hold you, to feel you close and hear your sweet little voice. The rest of the Falcone men decided that your mother wasn't ready to take care of you. So, they forced you out of her arms and sent you to Bruce.

Bruce held you once. And immediately passed you to Alfred. He was too young to become a father. (Never mind the fact he was already acting as a father to two boys)

He didn't have time to play daddy. Deep down Bruce did come to care for you over the years and attempted to try and hold you. But then Jason died, Dick distanced himself. Holding you, an innocent little thing, felt wrong.

When you were eight. You had tantrums. Night terrors. terribly scared of the dark. Thunderstorms especially. Gotham famous for its long dark nights and loud thunderstorms. Bruce, too busy with his new sidekick, Tim. Didn't have time to comfort you. No matter how heartbreaking your scrams for him were. Crying for him, so he can save you from whatever nightmare you have woken from.

But only Alfred occasionally Dick, would come and save you.

Bruce would give you toys, new dresses as a form of apology. He wouldn't give it to you directly. But have Alfred give it to you or leave it in your room when asleep. But no matter how many new toys he gives you. Those nightmares just never stopped.

Due to the neglect. Your mother was able to meet with you secretly. As years passed, she was able to steal you away when Alfred wasn't hovering around you. Take you to shop and give you whatever you wanted. Holding you in her arms and not wanting to let go.

Slowly, your mother was gaining the favor of some of the Falcones. To let her have you back. To welcome you back into the Falcone family. Once she gets the whole family to agree. She can make a case of child neglect against Bruce Wayne and take her sweet Babygirl back.

But when you were ten. Your powers began to kick in. You told Bruce, hoping your father would help you. Help you understand. Bruce, told you to keep it a secret. And to tell no one else.

Having a kid who was a meta was the last thing he needed at the moment. Trying to re-connect with Jason who still had deep hate for him instead focusing on his first-born child who was struggling to understand.

You felt like a freak.

And it wasn't long till you lost control of your powers. To keep it short. You accidently killed a few other kids with your powers. It was an accident. You swore. You see you would have just been left off. Your a kid. It was an accident. But most of all your a Wayne. But one of the kids you killed was a Falcone.

And Bruce couldn't risk you getting killed. He cared about you. Just not as much as he should. So, to avoid the wrath of the Falcone's. Bruce had to claim you were mentally ill. Sending you to Arkham. Only for a few months. That's what he said to you. That's what he promised.

You did your six months in Arkham. Six months turned to eight. Eight months turned to ten. Ten months turned to two years. Then finally, you were taken out from your cell. Lead by two prison guards. They said you had a visitor. You assumed it was another reporter. But was proven wrong when you see Bruce on the other side of the thick glass. You were shocked but happy to see your father.

"Daddy." You spoke softly as you slowly smile, putting your hand on the glass. Bruce hesitates to put his hand on the glass, once he does, he focused back to you. Your eyes stared at him with so much love and hope.

". . . Your case. . . the court decided you're, too unstable to attend court, so. . ." Bruce didn't look at you as he spoke. So, he couldn't see the smile on your face fade. Confusion taking over.

"But. . . I did my six months. . . I-I've been here for a year! Daddy, please I didn't do it on purpose!" You were on the edge of crying.

"I promise. I'll get you out of here as soon as I can." Bruce wanted to try and console you. But that was harder due to the glass between you two. He reaches out his hand to the glass once more. But the loud buzz that queued it was time for you to get back to your cell.

"Please Daddy don't let them take me!" You cried, putting both hands on the glass. You were in full despair. Bruce didn't know what to do. He can take the risk from the Falcones and get you out with a snap of his fingers. Or he can make it easy for everyone but you and wait till you serve your time.

". . . I'm sorry" Bruce can see you falling deeper and deeper into dispare.

Guards burst from the doors and had to forcefully take you away.

"No- No! Daddy please! DADDY!" Your screamed louder as the guards took you away, reaching out to Bruce who just stood there. And did nothing. As always.

Seven years later.

No one ever visited you again. Well, no one from the Waynes. But your mother visited you every week. Her visits where the only reason you kept saine.

Arkham isn't all fun and games. Obviously. You were immitted into Arkham's fucked version of rehabilitation. You started hearing things after your first month in Arkham.

. . .

You sent letters almost every day to the Wayne manor. But never got any back. None from Bruce. None from Dick. You and Tim weren't close. So, you didn't expect anything from him. Alfred prefers to call you. Wanting to hear your voice to make sure you were not lying to him when he asks of your wellbeing.

You stopped sending letters to Bruce a few months ago. Not like he'll respond anyway. You don't need Bruce. You have your mother. And she's all you'll need. She's your world now, your reason to keep living this pointless life. And once you're out, Mama promised to give you a big hug. Which you so desperately needed.

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

"𝙸 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚊𝚍𝚍𝚢. . . 𝚍𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚖𝚎?"

[freshmoviequotes]

Beetlejuice Beetlejuice (2024)

[ayoits-coon]

HELP

My health teacher is talking about body image and 3d

I am actually gonna cry i don’t wanna be here

[agenderfrenchfry]

I’m not going to do one of those “REBLOG OR YOU’RE A HORRIBLE PERSON!!!!!!1!” posts, but please, if you have the time, read about Robert Roberson.

Neurodivergent people, we especially need to pay attention to this. This is a man who was sent to death row because he appeared too “stoic”. He was formally diagnosed with autism after. I’m sure you already know that this is only one part of a larger pattern of flaws. Fellow victims of the US’ crap legal system, we need to say something. I don’t care if you think it won’t work, we still have to give them hell. They may have power, but they need to know damn well we won’t sit by and let people die.

Greg Abbott’s number (yes, of course it’s Texas) is 361-264-9653. Give him a call if you have the time. If calls freak you out, text. If you don’t want to do that, sign the petition. You have the chance to change history right now.

Most importantly, take care of yourself. All this tragedy drains the soul, especially when it hits close to home. After you’re done with this post, drink some water and watch something nice or, better yet, step away from the screen for a bit. You deserve it and more.

[bamsara]

More story planning doodles for Trod, maybe or maybe not

I know I'm drawing a lot more scenes before I've even finished the written drafts for them but if I don't have a visual of everything I'll die. anyway Im writing I prommy