#/tw death mention

[willedwoods]

Of all the forests Celebi found refuge in, the one hidden away underneath Agate Village had always been one of her favourites. There had certainly been a handful of humans who actually respected her- who had left her be, or even left little gifts beneath her various shrines around the globe, but most still wanted something from her. Here, all anyone ever wanted from her was her presence. Occasionally, she would encounter a trainer wishing to heal the heart of an abused Pokémon, but this was far different from those who hunted her for to make use of her abilities for themselves.

And of all the humans that resided in this quaint little village, she had always found one small child to be particularly likeable. Most of the people who left things for her were adults- the elderly, mostly- people who had come to respect her over the years. But Alex had respected her and her woods since the very beginning.

She wasn’t one to get too attached to anyone. Especially humans, whose souls had a far shorter existence in this plane than her own. Yet, she found herself saddened when she heard the murmurs of his departure. For the first time in nearly a century (in this timeline, at least) she ventured out of the woods and into the village itself, finding the child and tapping him twice on the shoulder. As she waited for him to turn around, she held out a prized artifact in her hands- a time flute. An item capable of calling her to any time and any place. Alex had been so kind to her over the course of his short life. If he ever needed, she wanted to be able to return the favour. This would allow her to find him wherever and whenever he went. If he wished for her, he needed only to call.

-mythemons (celery <3)

Small feet shuffled along the ground, grey eyes staring down at the dirt and pebbles being pushed around. The sound of his mother telling him only a few days after his grandmother’s passing that they would be moving away. Because she was gone they said there was no longer a reason to stay in the village any longer. That they should move to a nice big city with more opportunities. A better school for him and a better life. Did they even ask him if he wanted that? He never said a word about wanting to go-- This was there home! This was his grandmother's home. It was filled with all of his memories of her. 

He bit down hard on his lower lip, almost enough to make it bleed, couldn’t they just go without him if they hate it here so bad? He could stay with one of his friends in the village and everything would be fine. He could keep living his days out as he always had and they could go off to some stupid city. It was like they wanted to forget their lives here-- Forget her. Stopping in his tracks he took out the pokeball containing a Swablu that she had gifted him years prior, staring down at it. She had promised to take him the other towns where there were other trainers when he got older, wanting to one day fight on Mt. Battle.

He was already pocketing the pokeball when he felt the gentle tap to his shoulder, turning his gaze, only to be met with bright blue eyes of the mythical Pokémon who protected them there. He didn’t even register the offered gift before looking around to make sure none of the villagers were out where they were. It was far enough from the homes and the village was quite anyways but there was still a moment of panic before moving to fully face her.

Why was she here? He’d never heard of her leaving the forest let alone coming out into open areas where humans lived.

“Celebi....” 

Eyes finally darted to the item being offered out, similar to a sketch he remembered seeing in a book back home. A medium length flute that seemed to be made of pressed grass and vines, the gentle smell of fresh grass and herbs coming off of it. Reaching out to take it in his hands he found it to be solid like wood. The first thought rushing to his mind ‘I have to tell her! She needs to see this!’ But that person was no longer waiting at home for him. The person who meant the most to him had left this world. The person who was the only reason Celebi was here in front of him offering such a gift.

Some of his first memories were her carrying him to the shrine in her arms, handing him some sort of baked good she had made for him to set on the shrine. She would stay there and pray for a few minutes, reminding him to say thank you to Celebi before they returned home. Eventually he was helping her make offerings, walking beside her to the shrine. “Thank you for protecting us. Please continue to do so.” Before playing in the woods she called her home, even if more briefly than other times he’d at least say a few words before running off. Leaving flower crowns he made with his grandmother. And on the occasional days she wasn’t feeling up to the walk he would go for the two of them and apologize for her. It had been so ingrained in him Celebi was important and she should be treated as such. It never felt like a chore. And the few times he did need the time traveling Pokémon she came to his aid.

It wasn't like these memories were buried deep but thinking about them all at once his hands started to shake. The overwhelmingly sad feeling in his chest breaking free once more. He had been inconsolable for days. And with the news of their leaving he couldn't hold the tears back any longer. Did Celebi even know? It was their protector but still-- “S-She's gone--!” Words were practically screamed out as the tears pored down his face, his head dropping. “She's not coming back-- She won’t be able to make those cookies you liked anymore! She can’t come visit your shrine anymore. It’s not fair! She was fine! She was fine so why?!” One hand dropped to his side, gripping the flute while the other came up to try and wipe away the tears that kept falling. 

“And now that she’s gone they’ve decided to take me away-- I can’t even visit you for her anymore! you’ve always taken good care of us and we’re betraying you! I hate it!” He shook his head trying to compose himself in some sort of way but he had been bottling it up all day that there just wasn’t calming him down anytime soon. “I’m sorry-- I’m sorry....! I don’t wanna go.”

[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.

[landrylovesmatcha]

she’s everything 💕

tw: death mention

[incorrectbatfam]

[at Jason's funeral]

Dick: *places his hand on the headstone and sobs*

Dick: How could you do this to me? We are so understaffed.

[bamsara]

Part 2 to this comic

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

[one-time-i-dreamt]

Tumblr introduced a "postmortem" feature, where dead celebrities could blog from the afterlife. Only Terry Pratchett used it.

[intersectionalpraxis]

Source: [@/ Kandakat_alhaqq on X.] You can follow them here for more updates.

Free Sudan!

[charlie-artlie]

I think the death weirdos should hang out

[sayruq]

[kathaynesart]

TMNT AU COMPETITION - CONTEXT COMICS: COMIC 1 - COMIC 2 - COMIC 3 - COMIC 4 - COMIC 5

Don't mind, Omega. He's just being dramatic. Thank you so much @abbeyofcyn and @thegunnsara for pulling me into this hilarious mashup as well as @kittynomore @tapakah0 @hylwicks and @isaacz for letting their characters be a part of it! Figured I would use this opportunity to do my Replica introduction as well!

The @tmntaucompetition has barely even started and I am already overwhelmed by the amount of asks and support I've received! Thank you everyone! There are so many things I want to respond to, but I just don't have the time!

However I am so excited to get to interact with some of you! I'll be sure to respond to a few more that reference Omega directly when I can (looking at you @intotheelliwoods and @karonkar )!

Also, please don't destroy my asks trying to offer chew toys to Donnie... it's too late. His fate has been sealed. He's in autistic robot hell now. Goodnight sweet prince.

Also also, uh... THAT one image? Don't think about it too hard. :)

[miniar]

The blue lagoon in Iceland is currently closed (for a week) due to a high risk of a volcanic eruption within a kilometer (0.8 miles) of the popular tourist location.

When the gathering magma breaks the earth's crust, anyone visiting the blue lagoon will have (best case scenario) approximately 20 minutes to make it to safety.

If there are people sleeping in the adjacent hotel or gods forbid in the lagoon itself, the worst case scenario is the magma breaking surface beneath the lagoon.

The only truly realistic way to avoid serious casualties here is for the resort, hotel, and lagoon yo remain completely closed until the danger passes.

There are currently icelandic people calling for a 2/1 deal (or cheaper) on blue lagoon tickets for Icelandic people on twitter.

Do Not Go To The Blue Lagoon Until The Danger Has Passed!!

It's a lovely experience but it's absolutely not worth boiling alive or burning to death.

[jaybirbie]

The first time she remembers seeing him, is when she is guiding the soul of Dr. Jazzmine Fenton. The world renowned author and psychologist.

Jazz had lived a long life, it only been a few days after her 87th birthday. She had passed gently in her sleep.

Death of the Endless was used to the people she guided having some questions or confusion.

Jazz was a rare one. She was quiet. Just giving Death an understanding nod and her arm.

At the end of their journey, before Jazz entered the Sunless lands. She stopped.

Turning to lock eyes with Death, the woman spoke.

"HELP HIM".

There was weight behind her words, this wasn't a request.

Before Death could answer, Jazz had turned and entered the sunless lands.

It was the heavy weight of the womans words that had Death returning to where she had collected the soul of Jazzmine Fenton.

There she met him.

Sitting next to the cooling body, holding her hand as tears silently ran down his cheeks.

He couldn't be more than 14. His sickly pale skin and fluffy black hair reminded her fondly of her brother.

To her surprise, the boy turned to look at her. Could see her.

The heavy sharp look behind his eyes reminded her of Dream as well.

"She's gone". He spoke quietly.

It wasn't a question, she nodded anyway.

He looked back at the body, gently placing the hand he held back on the bed. Standing up, he kissed her forehead and stepped away.

"Can you take me too?" Barely a whisper.

Her confusion continued. She shook her head. " it's not your time." She replied gently, laying a hand on his shoulder only to startle back as she felt his soul. He was dead.

The surprise must have shown on her face as the boy let out a defeated sigh. As more tears filled his eyes.

"Then when, it's been decades."

Gathering herself, she put both her hands back on his shoulders, looking down at the dead child. She didn't understand herself. The boy was one of hers, yet she hadn't given him her gift, and she couldn't guide him. There was no path for him to be guided down.

Softly she rubbed the boys shoulders and gently smiled before replying.

" I don't know," she paused, "but we'll figure it out".

She took the boys hand as she led him away from the room.

Time to cash in on the favour Dream owed her. She had a feeling her brother and his immortal lover will have a positive affect on the sad young boy, while she figures out why the boy is stuck.

Part 1??

[incorrectbatfam]

How small must the world be for both Bruce and Tim to witness John and Mary Grayson's deaths

Or for 10-year-old Duke to crack the Riddler's puzzle before Batman swoops in and saves the day, long before his powers came into play

Or for Sheila Haywood to leave her son only to end up assisting his killer a decade and a half later

Not to mention the popular fanon concept of Jason knowing baby Damian in the League of Assassins

Now imagine how many other invisible strings could've tied them together

Like what if Tim and Jason went to the same school when Jason was Robin but all they shared was the occasional bump and "excuse me" in the busy halls

Or what if Babs was a tutor and helped an elementary-aged Steph finally understand her homework only for the Browns to cancel after a couple sessions because they couldn't afford it

What if the first person to buy Cass a hot meal was Kate on one of her travels

What if Alfred witnessed young Selina shoplifting groceries but chose to turn a blind eye

What if Jason lived on the same streets as the Row siblings and gave little Harper tips on how to use tools and defend her brother

What if Steph and Duke shared the same school bus, only he sat in the front while she was toward the back

What if the first person to teach Tim how to tie his shoes was Bruce at a gala because Jack and Janet were busy talking to someone important

What if Bette did a DNA test for fun and found a connection in Nanda Parbat but just assumed the results was faulty because she knew her whole family, right?

What if 8-year-old Dick, the day before his parents died, stayed at a cheap hotel near Crime Alley and found 4-year-old Jason wandering alone and said, "I'll be your big brother for tonight"

What if the universe knew they were made for each other and wouldn't rest until they realized it too

[stuhde]

i had shared what is happening in sudan on a long facebook post last night, but it virtually received almost little to no engagement or shares from the nearly 600 “friends” i have on the site.

this morning, my great-aunt was shot by the soldiers fighting for power, and God forbid, i lose more of my family members before eid this friday.

please read below to understand what is happening and how you can help my country. i hope the tumblr community can show more kindness than the lack of support and advocacy i’ve seen elsewhere.

يا رب اجعل هذا البلد آمناً 🇸🇩

the lack of awareness and advocacy from the African, Arab, and Muslim diaspora and the human rights community has been painful.

while Western media has done little to no coverage of the ongoing conflict in the capital city of my motherland, Sudan, it appears that the rest of the world also partakes in normalizing crimes and violence against SWANA people.

violence and war hurting the SWANA region are NOT ordinary occurrences — no one, regardless of race, creed, ethnicity, religion, and gender, should experience the unprecedented amount of violence that harms my two living grandmothers, aunts and uncles, and baby cousins who live in Khartoum.

your decision to ignore reading or educating and discussing with others about what is likely to be a civil war is complicity in viewing SWANA people as individuals who regularly experience conflict and are undeserving of help.

the silence is damaging, and it is up to us as privileged members of the diaspora (or individuals living in the Western world committed to human rights) to support the people of my country and their dream for a stable, democratically elected government.

what is happening in Sudan is a fight that started on April 15 between two competing forces for power — the Sudanese Army and the Rapid Support Forces (RSF) — neither groups are representative of the needs of our people. The Sudan Army is loyal to the dictator, Omar Al-Bashir, and the RSF is responsible for the genocide in Darfur.

with both power struggles backed by different Arab and Gulf nations, the two parties have been fighting for power for the last few years. While they worked together to try and end the people’s revolution, they lost. however, they are now in a constant power play of who will get to rule the nation.

this all means that war is NOT a reflection of my country — violence does not represent the SWANA people. Sudan is a nation of beautiful culture, strong women, intellectual and influential Islamic scholars, poets, and youth at the front lines of the revolution. we are a people committed to a region of peace for ourselves and the rest of the Ummah.

my family and the rest of Sudan’s innocent civilians are at the most risk, with many currently without drinking water, food to eat, electricity, and complete blockage to any mosques during the final nights of Ramadan, our holiest month of the year.

i ask that you please keep Sudan and our people in your prayers — donate to the Sudan Red Crescent or a mutual aid GoFund Me, email your representatives if you live in a country that can put pressure on either competing force of power, discuss this with your family and friends, and please do not forget to think about SWANA people — our brothers and sisters in Syria, Yemen, Lebanon, and many others need our love and support.

الردة_مستحيلة ✊🏾

#KeepEyesOnSudan

[bamsara]

Befuddled sparring match. No weapons and no curses, but claws, teeth and horns don't count tho

[indulgentdaydream]

Can you write something where the reader is badly injured in some way and jason rushes her to the manor for help and everybody is confused on who she is bc they didnt even know he was in a relationship (despite them being together for awhile) but they see how soft and cute he is with her. (I’ve never made a request so sorry if it got kinda rambley)

anon you’ve got me TEEMING with ideas I LOVE the trope of nobody knowing jason has a girlfriend and they find out but it is NOT by Jason’s choice nor reader’s.

Also omg? Your first ask is to lil ol me?? That means this is a special occassion. And you’re doing great I’ve def sent worse asks.

Out of the Bag

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader || Hurt and Comfort.

Word Count: 1,862

Warnings: Injuries, swearing, near death experience, blood, knife mention, stabbing, canon-typical violence, use of pet names (princess, baby), drug (pain med) use

You were sat in an alleyway, vision going in and out.

“Tell me something, princess. Anything.” Jason’s voice rang out in your ear.

That’s right. In your right hand, you held your phone, to your ear. Your other hand was pressing the fabric of your coat to the side of your stomach. The blood had soaked through, becoming sticking on your palm and fingers.

You should’ve listened to Jason. You shouldn’t have walked home alone, at night. Luckily your phone had been in your pocket and not your purse, which had been stolen from you by the same guy who decided to stab you.

“Princess,” he sounded panicked.

Right. “Wish I had kicked him harder.”

You heard a sigh of relief leave him, “That’s my girl.”

The phone slipped from your grip a little as your head swam. The sight of blood coming from your own abdomen made no help in quelling your nausea.

You fixed the phone. You had called Jason the second the guy ran off, leaving you to bleed out. He was driving, you think. Tracking your phone to try and get to you. “How far?”

He said something you didn’t hear. Your vision was swimming, your side was aching, and you couldn’t help but keep this funny understanding out of your mind that you were dying.

That this is something Jason had come back to your apartment with a few times, claiming it was nothing. It was something.

You heard him call your name, “What’s around you?”

“I’m tired,” you mumbled.

It seemed to happen in a blink of an eye. Jason was trying to tell you to stay awake, to look at the alley around you. To look out towards the street and tell him what you saw. Then he was there, standing in front of you, his helmet hiding his face.

“I’m here. I’m here, baby.” He cupped your face, tapping your cheek to get you to open up your eyes. He crouched down, pulling your hand from your side to assess the damage.

You smiled lazily and leaned forward, resting your forehead against his shoulder.

Jason muttered a slew of swears as he pressed something soft yet hard against your agonizing wound. You let out a yelp before Jason was picking you up, placing you on his bike.

He’s talking fast, “Fuck. Okay, listen to me. We’re going to go somewhere new, okay? There’s nowhere around here except there for me to get you safe.”

You passed out nearly as soon as he started the bike.

Jason’s freaking. He had tried to keep you safe from anything like this. From everything less than this. And here you were, bleeding out in his arms as he carried you through the batcave. He beelined for the cots and the medical supplies off to the side. He knows his motorcycle couldn’t have been the smoothest of rides for someone in your condition, but it’s all he had in such a short time span.

He’ll apologize when you wake up.

When. He repeats. When she wakes up and when we can get the hell out of this place again and when I can remind her I love her.

No one was back from patrol yet. He set you down on the cot before tearing off his helmet. He tossed it aside, pulling out a med bag and ripping it open. He pushed up your shirt, examining your side and where he had placed the military-grade gauze pad. He curses at the amount of blood.

His hands are shaking. Jason’s hands don’t shake, but you’ve proven to him a lot of things you could make him do that he hadn’t known he was capable of in the last year and (almost) a half of your relationship.

Jason nearly drops the suture thread before another hand is reaching out from just behind him. It catches the thread and Jason looks back over his shoulder. Alfred’s there, moving up to you.

“Allow me. You keep checking her vitals.”

Jason hadn’t even heard him come up. He’s nodding, stepping back to let Alfred take over the stitching. He moves to the other side of the bed.

That’s when he catches sight of the dark figure moving closer from behind Alfred. Jason immediately fixes him with a deadly glare, pointing at Bruce, “Do not come closer!”

Bruce stills. He’s in his bat suit, his cowl hanging behind his head, exposing his face. He looks down to your body, “Who is she?”

Jason doesn’t want him here. Rather, he doesn’t want to be here. You should’ve been home by now. Getting ready for bed and sending him a goodnight text. He turns his gaze back to you.

There’s some hair across your face that he hadn’t noticed. He moves it out of your way without a second thought, “My girlfriend.”

“Finally feel some remorse for sending someone to their grave, Todd?” Damian’s voice spoke up, walking up and stopping beside Bruce, “He’s probably trying to just reverse what he did.”

Jason ignores him. He wants to yell, scream, and maybe shoot the little bastard, but he was right. In a way, this was his fault. He didn’t look after you. He should’ve offered you a ride. Called you a taxi. An uber. Anything.

Jason grips your hand into his. It’s a way to count your heartbeat, and another way to ground himself. To reassure that you’ll be okay. His other hand stays on your cheek. His thumb gently moves back and forth, stroking your skin.

He barely registers Bruce telling Damian to go wash up. When the brat is gone, Bruce speaks up again, “What happened?”

Jason doesn’t take his eyes off of you, “She was walking home from her friend’s. A mugger got her purse, she fought back. He stabbed her.” Jason takes a deep breath, “She still had her phone. She called me. I brought her here because it was closest.”

A beat of silence. Still stitching you up, Alfred speaks, “How come we’ve never been introduced?”

Jason shakes his head, “I didn’t want her near any of this. She’s bad off enough sticking with me.”

Once you stabilize, Jason brings you up to his room in the manor. He walks past Dick, Tim, Duke, Cass, and Steph without looking at them. They sit around the batcomputer, watching Jason gently carry you out ot the cave.

He changes you out of your dirty clothes once he makes a run back to your apartment to grab you some of your own spare clothes.

Asides from that, he doesn’t leave your side.

He lets you have the bed to yourself. He pulls up a chair beside it, waiting for you to wake up. He didn’t want you to be alone when you did, in a strange place after a traumatic event. It was a recipe for disaster.

The sun’s been up for a long while and Jason hasn’t budged. He sits there, your hand gripped in both of his, held up and pressed against his mouth. His lips brush over your knuckles whenever he speaks up. Uttering a “I’m sorry.” every now and then.

There’s a light knock at the door before it’s cracking open. Jason turns his head to find Dick poking his head in. Jason glares at him.

Dick steps further in, presenting the tray he was holding. There were two glasses of water, some solid foods, and lighter ones, probably for you. Jason looked back down at you, letting his older brother enter.

“Just… figured since you’ve been cooped up in here all day,” Dick begins, setting the tray down on the beside table beside Jason.

Dick moves back around. He stands at the end of the bed, leaning against the tall bed post that was meant to hold up a canopy. “I heard…” he trails off, before nodding and your body in the bed, still unconscious, “Who is she?”

Jason looks up at his brother, not letting go of your hand, “So you haven’t heard.”

Dick rolls his eyes, “You know what I mean.”

Jason raises his brows a little. He looks back down at you. His hand reaches out to brush along your forehead, moving away imaginary stray hairs, “My girl.”

Dick nods in understanding, “How long you two been together.”

Jason pauses in thought, “Over a year. Our anniversary was in December.”

A small, choked sound comes from outside the door, in the hallway. “A year?”

Jason looks up at Dick, who makes a face that shows he’s knows he’s been caught.

“Are they seriously listening right now?”

Steph poked her head in first, an apologetic smile on her face, “We wanted to know!”

Duke pokes his head in next, just above Steph’s, “And we wanted to meet her.”

Tim’s head in next, above Duke’s, “You can’t carry a random bleeding woman into the cave and expect the family of detectives to not be curious.”

Cass’ head appears below Steph’s. She nods in agreement.

Jason let’s one hand go of yours to wave his hand through the air, “What the fuck? She’s not even awake!”

“Well that’s why we sent Dick as bait.”

“For the record,” Dick held up a finger, “They built off of my original, innocent idea of bringing you snacks.”

“Jesus Christ,” Jason stands up, taking a few steps forward. He points them all back towards the door as they start to filter into the room, “Get—“

“What’s going on…?”

Jason’s whole body whipped back around at the sound of your groggy, rough voice. The others watch as he’s back at your side in a millisecond, his whole demeanour changed. “Hey, you’re okay. Everything’s okay. Remember how I said we were going somewhere new? You thirsty, baby? Here, I got you some water.”

“Oh, you certainly did not get the water,” Dick piped up.

Jason glared back over his shoulder as he held the glass of water for you, keeping the straw Dick had added placed in your mouth.

You stopped drinking, your eyes now on the other people in the room. You turned your head, propped up against pillows Jason had put there for you. You weakly raised your left hand to wave, “Hi… oh?” your gaze turned down to your hand. A heart monitor clip sitting on your finger grabbed your attention. You gave a confused pout at it, “I feel funny.”

Jason set the water aside again. His glare was gone. He leaned in, kissing your forehead, “You’re hopped up on pain meds. That’s why, princess.”

“Damn,” Steph spoke up, “I wish I got the literal princess treatment.”

Jason turned back around, pointing out the door, “Get. Out. Leave my girlfriend alone until she’s better.”

You looked at the strangers, pointing at Jason with your left hand, “I’m his girlfriend.” Your head tilted back against the pillows as you stared up at Jason, pursing your lips, "I’m tired.”

“I know,” Jason said softly. The others began to filter out of the room as he leaned down and gave you a soft kiss, this time on the lips.

From the exit, a collective, “Awwww,” sounded out.

“Out!”

Your drugged up voice came after his, once they were all back in the hall, “Nice to meet you!”