#this is a series

[snakeredbirdbatkatana]

How Tim Drake stole the show and lost millions for a good cause..... aka getting laid

Part 1

Now Bruce would like to say he knows his sons pretty well, even as he hears Alfred's voice disagreeing.

He didn't partically want to go to this gala but with Jason returning from the dead formally, and all of his children being in Gotham this was a perfect opportunity to show the Wayne family in all their glory.

As he fixes Damian's bow tie ignoring the reporters vying for his attention.

He hears a gasp.

Before swiftly as if summoned by a light the swarm of reporters leave running toward whoever just appeared.

Pulling up in a car that Bruce couldn't even name if he tried but he is a hundred percent sure isn't aloud on the god damn road.

His third youngest boy who as planned was meeting them here.

Unexpectedly has his arm wrapped around Connor Kent.

Who is wearing a blood red suit, matching perfectly with Tim's all black, but most shocking other than the multi-million dollar car if Jason's hyperventilating can be believed is the blood red diamond in Kent's ear that he's a hundred percent sure cost eight million fucking dollars.

Which was made aware by Selina who was talking about said gem because she was hoping to steal it before it was purchased by a buyer she couldn't track which is an impressive feat which is now explained by the fact that the only one person is better at hiding than a cat and that will always be a bat.

-

Walking in with Rob's arm around his waist after a joyride straight out of a movie he can't help but feel like he's flying and considering he's Superboy that a feat.

"Feeling ok, I know this can be a lot my moon?" Everytime Tim uses that godamn nickname he can't stop the blush it's embarrassing and sweet and flat out insane.

"I'm fine you worrywart, seriously Sunshine", hesitating "So far this is the best night of my life I'm on your arm Tim now show me off I was promised that I would get to see Rich Timmy in all his glory."

He smirks grabbing a thing of champagne from a passing waiter who looks terrified.

"Unless Red your pussing out on me?"

Tim's face twitches a look crossing his face before smoothing out into what Kon can only call his Red Robin smirk deadly, captivating, and always makes Kon a little wet.

"No, after all your on the arm of the richest man in here let me show you what that means."

-

[justaboot]

Happy (late) Disability Pride Month!

Green- sensory disabilities, including ASD

[alcohen]

Seventeen is so young.

When Harry thinks of the night before the last battle, sitting on the bed next to Draco, silently saying his goodbyes, he feels very sorry for his past self. Seventeen’s too young to fight in a war, too young to leave people behind out of fear they’d be used as bait. Too young to face death as calmly as he did. 

But eighteen is young too. Especially to be on the other side of it all, to have made awful decisions and try to make up for them. Harry knows that the guilt Draco carried at the time was crushing him. Once, years later, he told Harry that he felt like he deserved to lose him that day. If it happened, it would have been so awful that it would have paid off his debt to the world, he’d said. 

They were both so young and broken. Good thing they have managed to mend each other over the years.

This time i got inspired by this art and post by @to00fu, check it out:

[eidolons-stuff]

Yoko: *still processing the situation*

Enid: "I wish I could just hide"

Yoko: "Look Enid. Sometimes we like people so much that we can't help but have strong feelings for them."

Enid: "I know. But feelings for Wednesday? Wednesday and feelings don't mix. They aren't even in the same sentence! Unless someone says Wednesday has no feelings"

*Enid looks defeated*

Yoko: "True. But you don't know what Wednesday thinks"

Enid: "That's the problem! I don't!"

Yoko: "Maybe you should ask her"

Enid: "Ask her what? What's she thinking?"

Yoko: "How she feels about you"

Enid: "Yeah, that would go well. 'Hey Wednesday, I know you don't care about anyone, but how do you feel about me?'. It's like asking a werewolf how they feel about the stars"

[mizukiiqt]

okay more doodles but this time theyre gifts

[elle-smells]

fun facts about dani and carmen july 2023:

dairy queen is real and i slept through our arrival

[serickswrites]

Crashing Waves

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

Warnings: restraints, kidnapping, captivity, buried alive, referenced/implied drowning, hallucinations

Whumpee woke with a start. It was dark and their shoulders were pressed in on both sides. Where were they? They didn’t remember falling asleep. They tried to control their breathing as their heart raced. It was dark and tight wherever they were. They couldn’t move. Their hands were bound tightly in front of them. They strained against the rope, but it didn’t budge. They tried to kick out, drawing their knees up as far as they could go. They brushed a hard surface very quickly. They kicked their feet with as much force as they could muster, feet colliding with another hard surface. They screamed in frustration and pain. They were trapped in a box. A box!

As panic set in, they reminded themself that panicking wouldn’t help. That they needed to think their way out of this one. They braced their knees, feet, and bound fists to the lid of the box and pushed with all their might. The wood didn’t so much as creak with the movement. They were trapped in a box God knows where. 

They wracked their brain for the last thing they could remember. How did they end up in a box? They remembered walking into the office that morning, a carton of coffees in hand. They remembered meeting up with the team in the conference room, their latest board filled with pictures, papers, and Whumpee’s neat handwriting. They remembered being frustrated with not having more answers. Not having enough information. And they remembered everyone’s tempers were running high. Teammate Two had snapped at them. Teammate One had left in a huff saying something about needing air. And finally Caretaker had had enough of them, too. Told them to take a walk, clear their head, and come back later. Being dismissed by Caretaker had been hurtful. They’d left in a hurry. They hadn’t meant to frustrate anyone. They were just so close. They knew it. They remembered walking out into the cool sunshine. The air was crisp. Autumn had finally settled over the city. They remembered walking a few blocks, and then they didn’t remember anything else. 

Someone had grabbed them? Who? Who would want them? Whumpee realized that was a dumb question. A lot of people wanted to do them harm. But who wanted to act on it now? For the life of them, they couldn’t think of anyone in particular. Or anyone who’s methods were to put people in boxes. 

Besides their father. I wouldn’t do that to you, my child. I would never put you in a box. Father’s voice whispered through their mind. 

“Not helpful. And yes, you would if it served your purpose.”

I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that last part. Let’s try and think our way out of this one. You’re in a sticky situation, my child. 

“I realize that, again, not helping.”

Think, Whumpee. Use that big brain of yours. 

Whumpee closed their eyes and took a breath. They could hear the rattle of chains. “No,” they whispered, breath quickening. “No, no, no, no, please, no. Please.”

No, you’re not hearing that. Take a breath, my child. She’s not here. I won’t let her come here. You found her. Remember?

Whumpee did remember. It didn’t change the fact that they still felt as though they were trapped in a box with Father’s Victim. But she was alive. Unharmed. They took a steadying breath and listened again. 

Waves crashed in the distance. Gulls called. “I’m at the beach.”

Very good, my child. Who would take you in a box to the beach?

Whumpee’s heart sunk. There was only one person that they knew of that would do that. And it was the person they were hunting. “Whumper.”

Great! So you know who has you then. I’m sure we’ll be able to work our way out of this, my child. 

Whumpee tried not to let despair take over. “No.” They swallowed. “No, I don’t know who it is. And there’s no getting out. I’m going to die soon.” Tears pricked at the corners of their eyes. 

The case had been a tough one. The first body turned up after some beach goers were digging for crabs in Beach. The next had turned up at Other Beach, children digging at some driftwood buried in the sand. And the latest had turned up at Third Beach, a concerned citizen had called in about a driftwood cross at the waterline. All three victims were buried at the tide line in a pine box coffin, hands bound with coarse rope in the front, and a scuba mask and light tank attached to their face. They had all drowned, of course. They would have been able to hear the tide coming in, feel the water crashing around them, and they would have lived for a time while they were submerged. Until their air ran out. None of the victims were related to each other. Even knew each other. Whumpee had suspected they were dealing with a serial killer, but the team hadn’t wanted to hear it. There had to be a connection. Whumpee wasn’t so sure. 

And now they were going to be the connection. Their breath quickened as they started to panic again. They beat against the box with their feet. Pounded with their fist. Screamed in rage. This was not how they wanted to die. They wanted to live!

You are, my child. Think about it. They bury the victims with a scuba mask on. Your face is free. 

“Yeah, maybe because they want me to drown faster.”

Nonsense. If they are what you say they are, they will not deviate. You have time, my child. You’ll be able to talk your way out of this. 

Before Whumpee could reply, there was a creaking sound from above them. They flinched back as the lid of the coffin was pried off by a crowbar. 

“You shout quite a bit, don’t you,” a heavily accented voice came as Whumpee was blinded by the sudden brightness. 

Once their eyes adjusted, Whumpee could see the person who grabbed them. They was short, stocky, with sandy brown hair and green eyes. They smirked down at Whumpee as they leaned on a shovel. 

“Only way I knew how to get your attention.” 

“Oh, you’ve had my attention for a while, Whumpee.” Whumper squatted down so they could lean over Whumpee. Far enough away that Whumpee couldn’t head butt them. But close enough that Whumpee could see their freckles. 

“Should I be flattered?” Whumpee licked their suddenly dry lips. 

Do whatever you need to get out of here, my child. They’re seriously unhinged. And that’s coming from a man who killed many people! 

“Definitely,” Whumper chuckled. “But you aren’t my usual type, Whumpee. Even though you are a pretty, wee thing. Still not my type.”

“People make exceptions for me,” Whumpee tried to sound less sarcastic, more inviting. They weren’t above flirting their way out of this. 

Whumper looked away. “Tide’s coming in.”

Whumpee felt bile creeping up the back of their throat. They had to do something now. “Please, you don’t have to do this.”

Whumper looked back at Whumpee, their eyes tight. “Aye, but I do, Whumpee. Can’t have you catching me, now.”

“I won’t tell anyone. Just let me go and I won’t come after you.”

“Pretty to think so, Whumpee. But I know who you are. I know what you do. The code you live by.”

I’ve seen their face. They were never going to let me live. They was just playing with me. “Then why open the box up at all? Why not let the tide just take me?”

Whumper grinned. “Had to let you see who finally beat you. The person who caught the Father’s Child.”

Father took a snarling breath. Whumpee spoke first to Whumper before addressing their father’s hallucination.. “And yet you call me Whumpee.”

“Well, had to be sure I was writing the right name on your tombstone.”

Before Whumpee could reply, Whumper was shoving something into their mouth and pulling something else over their head. “Best take slow, even breaths, Whumpee.” Whumper rose, pulling out a phone from their pocket. “You know, this Caretaker texts you quite a bit. And calls. A lot. They your significant other?”

Whumpee growled around the regulator. 

“Guess they’ll be the one we call then.”

No! Don’t call Caretaker. I don’t want them to be the one to hear this. See me. Whumpee raged around the regulator, but didn’t spit it out. They didn’t think Whumper would stick it in their mouth a second time.

Whumpee could hear the ringing of the video call. Heard Caretaker answer. Heard Caretaker gasp. “Caretaker, I presume,” Whumper said as they aimed the camera at Whumpee. 

“Let them go. You don’t have to do this,” Caretaker shouted. 

“Tide will be in in two hours. Come get your Whumpee. You make it, I won’t interfere. You don’t, well, I know what you’ll be busy with.”

Before Caretaker could reply, Whumper hung up the call and tossed the phone away. “Any last words, Whumpee?”

Whumpee glared at Whumper, putting as much venom into their gaze as they could. They did not want Caretaker to be the one to find them. They never wanted Caretaker to be the one to find them. 

Fuck you. 

“Duly-noted. I don’t suppose we’ll be seeing each other again in this life. Until the next, Whumpee.” And Whumper slid the lid back over. Whumpee heard them hammer the nails into the lid. 

Two hours is a long time, my child. Caretaker will track your phone and be here soon. 

That’s if I’m still in the city. 

You are, my child. They wouldn’t deviate. Caretaker will be here soon. Loathe as I am to let them save you. Better them than no one. 

Whumpee had a snarky reply ready to fire off when the first shovel of sand hitting the roof of the coffin silenced them. They were being buried alive.

[homiesexual-or-homosexual]

Arabian Nights -- King Marc, Shah Zaman, and Y/n

Pairing: King! Marc Spector x reader

Genre: based on the book “Tale of 1,000 Nights” so it’s kind of life or death at first, i'm also writing this as i read the book, so maybe weekly or biweekly chapters, also i recommed Penguin Clothbound Classics they have such pretty colors and designs, i don't think I'll have set days to post this series but that's okay

Warnings: mentions of undescriptive sex, mentions of murder, I do use the word "slave"

Next

--- ---

You'd heard of the king who'd loved his people and his wife. He'd been a great ruler, alongside his brother and after his father. But after his brother, Shah Zaman, had visted, the King's personality had turned around. Shah Zaman had shown the King what his wife does while he is gone.

Distaught, the brothers left the palace for a few days and a few nights. And they found a tree beside a spring, a stayed there. Surviving off of fruit and the spring.

But their peace would not stay. Distrubed by a tall tower coming from the sea, Marc and his brother climbed to the top of the tree, to both hide and get a better look at the dark tower. And then, a Jinni appeared, carrying a box. It settled under the brothers's tree and opened it's box. Out came a girl, long and slender. Her complexion almost as bright and as warm as the sun.

The jinni speaks some words to her. The girl settles with her back to the tree and the jinni lays his head on the girl's lap and goes to sleep. She looks up and sees the kings, guesturing for them to come down and be not afraid of the jinni, he means no harm while he rests.

"Please," The kings begged. "Do not make us come down."

"You will come down," the girl ordered. "Or I will rouse the jinni and he will kill you like you've never been killed before."

Cautiously, the kings decend the tree, frightened for their lives. And they face the girl.

"Take me," The girl ordered.

The kings hesitated.

"Take me or I will wake the jinni."

Hesitantly, the kings took turns with the girl. And once done and adjusting their clothes, the girls pulls a purse from her pocket, and from the purse she pulls a band full of rings, hundreds of them.

"Do you know what this is?" The girl asked.

The kings shook their heads.

"These rings are the rings of the past lovers since after the jinni took me from my wedding night," The girls answers. "Now I demand you of your rings."

She holds out a hand expectedly. But the kings don't move. After a few heartbeats of a stare down, the kings hand over one of their rings. While the girl adds their rings to her band and puts them back in her purse, she tells the kings that the jinni had put her in that box after he'd stolen her from her wedding night.

"But, when a woman wants something," The girl stated. "She will get it."

The kings fled the woman and the tree, and headed back to Marc's kingdom and palace. When the enter the palace, the brothers cut off the heads of the 40 slaves and the queen.

Blinded by grief and distrust of women, Marc, alone, and for the next three years would find his next lover, bed her, and then behead her.

News of their king's new ritual, citizen's fled from King Marc's kingdom. Bringing with them their daughters, whom the citizens feared too lose so quickly.

Marc's vizier, after the fleeing of women, was sent out to find suitors. But he had started coming back empty handed after people began to hear of the news. And the vizier feared. Feared for his daughters that he had at home, you and your younger sister, Dunyazad.

You'd read the stories of past kings of this region. Relishing in their lives and their stories of their triumphs and their falls. You had almost a thousand of these books, covering the kings and the earlier people, poets and others alike.

So when your father comes in, a forlorn look on his face, you can't help but ask what's wrong. And he tells you, from when King Marc had murdered his wife and her 40 slaves, to now, that he's come empty handed to King Marc. And he's afriad of the punishments that he might recieve from his ruthless king.

"Marry me to this man, father," You demanded once he finished, leaving only a few seconds of silence between his story and your demand.

"I can't do that!" Your father exclaimed.

"Why not?" You questioned, putting your book aside.

"I can not let you experience The Donkey and The Bull," You father told you.

You don't recognize that story.

"What happened with them?" You asked.

"I will tell you."

[septemberkisses]

the fact that i'm no longer the same age as the protagonists of novels and films i once connected to is so heartbreaking. there was a time when I looked forward to turning their age. i did. and i also outgrew them. i continue to age, but they don't; never will. the immortality of fiction is beautiful, but cruel.

[couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name]

also I love that Grover gets separated from the kids and immediately starts playing mind games with a god. he's like finally I don't have to be a good role model for a second. let's talk brutality.

[alcohen]

Trust isn’t about grand gestures. 

It’s about consistency in small, mundane things. There’s something very comforting about never doubting that your partner will have your back, no matter the circumstances. 

Sure, they both have their fears. Harry dreads the mere thought of any more personal information being leaked to the press. Draco still has nightmares about Aurors showing up at the doorstep, pestering him about something he hasn’t done. Obviously, if any of that happened, neither of them would accuse the other; but this is less about trust than it is about common sense. 

Trust, however, is about simple things. Knowing that he’ll show up at lunch if he said he would. That when you’re upset, he’ll listen and make the effort to understand. That you can fuck up and he’ll let you apologise when he’s done being mad, and he knows you will do so, because trust is a two-way street. 

It doesn’t mean you won’t hurt each other: that would be a curated experience, not the reality of a shared life. What it does mean is that it’s never done on purpose, and it’s always made up for. 

And in this, they both trust.

[eidolons-stuff]

*Enid & Thing go out into the hallway to talk about Wednesday*

Enid: *major concern* "Is Wednesday alright? IS SHE DEAD?!"

Thing: *signs* "Wednesday is alright. She's not dead"

Enid: *almost faints with relief*

Thing: *signs* "But she did drop a MAJOR bombshell though"

Enid: *confused & lowkey scared* "Was it about murdering someone?"

Thing: *signs* "It was about you"

Enid: "Ok, now I'm really scared"

Thing: *signs* "You have to see Wednesday right now! Come on!"

[suiheisen]

those!!! are!!! his!!!! tits!!! be gentle 👉👈

[velinxi]

Lord of the Rings fanart! I watched for the first time recently and loved it

[cactuseri]

collection