#but I have... neglected to tell them to change it

[lermisv4]

There is a lot, and I mean a LOT going on with that scene. Others have probably said it already, but let's break this down, shall we?

Kris' background. Their parents love them but they felt like an outcast their whole lives, and their parents clearly favour Asriel. Even Susie points out there's some serious issues in the family dynamic just by seeing Kris' bedroom. The only person in that family who seems to prioritize Kris is Asriel, which of course would make Kris miss him even more.

Then there's the divorce. If we go with the theories, then there's a good chance Kris knows all the details behind the divorce, true. But what's important here isn't the reason behind the divorce, it's the way Asgore and Toriel act - especially Toriel. Toriel keeps badmouthing Asgore in front of Kris, even though the most questionable thing Asgore has done in front of Kris is asking them to deliver flowers to her. Asgore clearly adores Kris and wants to do the best by them even with his limited means, but Toriel paints him as the scum of the earth in front of her child - her incredibly lonenly, always out of place child - out of scorn. She's actively alienating them from Asgore. As for Asgore, while he is better than Toriel in this regard, as I said he keeps asking for Kris to send her flowers.

No matter how you read the above situation, it puts Kris in a messed up position. If they want their parents to get back together, then Toriel shutting down all attempts at communication has to hurt. If they don't want their parents to get back together, they're stuck going along with both Asgore and Toriel's mutually contradictory demands to keep them as happy as possible because they still want a family damnit.

Factor 3 is Sans. Aside from Toriel, nobody likes Sans. Kris doesn't, Susie doesn't, Rudy doesn't; people important to Kris who they value as family do not like Sans. And it's not hard to see why; all Sans did prior to the ending of the chapter is to troll Kris and pull some somewhat mean pranks on them while bragging about how close he got to Toriel. We should mention here he has only known Toriel for a few days. Some of his remarks towards Kris are downright uncomfortable; who the hell says "your mom told me you're a glutton for chocolate"? Imagine being a teenager and a stranger just straight up walks up and tells you this unprompted. Most of his on-screen time is him - an adult - being lowkey a dick towards a couple of teenagers.

All this brings us to chapter 4. Let's disregard the whole thing where Kris and Susie thought Toriel was in danger and let's focus on Toriel's actions.

She cancelled choir practice because of the rain, went to the grocery store, met Sans, and then, in an unknown order, they start partying, SHE gets drunk (not him, only she), and she brings him to her house. While in the house she even says how she met up with Sans and well he was so funny and who gives a fuck about choir practice.

Let's unpack all that.

First of all, she did not bother to call Kris. She did not even think about calling Kris. It's already implied several times in the game that Toriel is not all that attentive as a parent; she treats Kris disappearing for hours on end at random points as just "something Kris does" which contradicts her other behaviours like telling Susie to stay over during the tire slash incident. She comes off as either overly protective or neglectful, and this changes at the drop of a hat.

Now excuse me for thinking this is common sense and basic courtesy, but when something gets cancelled, like classes or a meeting or whatever, don't you usually just... text the person? Put up an announcement? Something? Couldn't she have spared 30 seconds to call or text Kris that class is cancelled? Write a note and stick it to the door of the church where someone coming in could see it? All it would have taken is 30 seconds, and there she would have fulfilled her barebones duty as a parent. And what about the other kids, Kris can't be the only member of the choir. Did she inform the others? Or did she neglect to tell everyone? I'm not sure which scenario is worse: neglecting your duties as an educator, or forgetting your kid in particular.

After that, she goes to the grocery store and meets up with Sans. We don't know the exact timeline of the following events, but we have the outcome; she brings him to her house, while she's drunk.

Red flag #1: what did she go to the store for? "To get groceries" you may say, but are we sure? Or did she go there only to meet up with Sans? What if she really went to get groceries but forgot about her chores because she and Sans were having too much fun? What if she bought them and brought Sans home with her?

Red flag #2: She brought him to her house. Toriel has only known Sans for a few days by this point. Now, I don't know how the dating scene works beyond r/RelationshipAdvice but bringing to your house someone you've only known for a couple of days is just irresponsible and a good way in real life to get robbed. And she doesn't live alone, she has a kid. If anything happens in the house, the kid will also have to deal with the consequences of it.

Red flag #3: She's drunk. What time did she start drinking? Where was she when she started drinking? Why is she so comfortable drinking around strangers? She could have been going for hours by the time Kris finds her. Rudy says in chapter 2 that Toriel was a party animal, but given what American party culture is like, this could be a thinly disguised statement she has a drinking problem. Not to mention, Kris and Susie see her drunk. Did she think Kris would not be home that night? Is she okay with Kris seeing her drunk like that? Did it completely slip her mind? This doesn't exactly teach Kris how to have a healthy relationship with alcohol, you know. And Susie is supremely uncomfortable around this scene, which has some nasty implications considering all the hints she has a bad home life. We already know she's really good at reading the room, and she does NOT like what she sees here.

Red flag #4: ONLY SHE is drunk. Sans looks prefectly sober, there's no indication he's been drinking. A guy who literally just met the girl being alone with her in her house while she's drunk...? This screams "girl run". Except that Toriel was sober when she met up with Sans, what the hell was she thinking? Maybe "a drink or two" and it escalated to this?

Now let's look at Sans' behaviour.

First of all, everything about red flag number 4. To get that out of the way.

Second, he's strongly implied to have abandoned work to hang out with Toriel, which doesn't exactly paint him as responsible.

Third, he treats this place like his own house already. He ate the food Toriel left for Kris without Toriel knowing, which would be a nope even if he was part of the family; then he leaves his personal belongings in the fridge like he lives here. He's know her for a few days at this point.

Now let's get to how Sans and Toriel react to Kris and Susie when they return.

Once again, Toriel shows minimal care for Kris. She left food for them, sure, but she doesn't point out how it's past midnight when Kris and Susie arrive home. If I was out of the house by the time it was 11 my mom would be calling me to get home as soon as I can. And she doesn't even express any curiosity over what they were doing. She doesn't know Kris was risking their life, but couldn't she ask if "you kids had fun in your hangout?" Or "I hope you didn't get caught up in the rain?"

Then, she invites Susie to stay over... while Sans is there. He's a stranger! And that's one of the students in your school! Who as far as Toriel is concerned, has parents who worry about her?

Then there's Sans. He completely brushes off Toriel's worry about Susie's behaviour, and acts like Kris isn't even there. That's Toriel's kid. He's acting like the first stage of those people who get into a relationship with someone who has kids and hope to get rid of the kids in some way to have the partner all to themselves. He shows absolutely no respect or consideration for the fact there's another person in the house trying to sleep. It's like his mere presence is pushing Kris out of their house.

So to summarise, Toriel tries to push Kris away from a father who loves them, while bringing to the house a stranger who's completely inconsiderate, while throwing a bunch of responsibilities to the wind.

Even without the whole "Kris just fought a Titan while looking for her", this is very uncomfortable and a long series of red flags.

Holy fuck, that ending... it really hammers home just how alone Kris truly is.

They went to save their mother from the church, thinking she was in danger... and after everything, after facing down an honest to goodness TITAN and winning... she was drunk off her ass with a strange new man, partying away while her child withers before her very eyes.

I... really felt for Kris, seeing that. Not to say that I've never felt for them before, but... fuck. I've been there. And it's... not a pleasant experience. Even when you aren't being manipulated from the shadows.

Sometimes, it's the smallest cuts that hurt the most.

[lettersregardingjeeves]

My Man Jeeves vs. Carry On, Jeeves: A Choice On the Basis of Charm

So as I was having a go at putting the letters together with Mr. Wooster, I realized that the versions of the early New York saga on Standard eBooks, where I sourced the text, were taken from the 1919 collection My Man Jeeves, rather than Carry On, Jeeves - the latter being how I presume the majority of fans read the stories. Naturally, I figured that I really ought to get the most recent public domain versions of the stories, to best represent the current nature of the series. So I had a look at Carry On, Jeeves, curious about the differences therein. And the ones I found were... kind of disappointing.

So, if you haven't read the stories, or just aren't bally interested, then I'll just say that I think the versions present in My Man Jeeves are an awful lot more fun than their rewrites, and am making the executive decision as Woosterian Substack Secretary to use the old instead of the new. For those who are bally interested, I'll chat a bit more under the cut.

All in all, the differences aren't extreme. None of the plot elements have changed, most of the lines haven't changed, and really, if you know one version of the story, you won't have trouble conversing with someone who knows the other. But I find the changes made in the nature of baffling. Some are very tiny changes, but odd nonetheless. Here's Bicky in "Hard-Boiled Egg", talking about why he doesn't want to go in for ranching, in the original My Man Jeeves.

And here's the same passage in Carry On, Jeeves.

Why cut the line about Bicky hating horses because they bite? It gives a more interesting context to why he doesn't want to ranch than the one in Carry On, Jeeves. He doesn't just not want to do the work out of laziness - he's afraid of horses! It's an unexpected and interesting thing for him to say, and it builds a sort of unique speech pattern of short, snappy sentences that fire one after another. It's such a tiny thing that I'm not even sure why it was deemed necessary to cut, unless there were length requirements, but it sands Bicky down a bit.

However, some of the other changes are much more considerable. Take the intro to "The Aunt and the Sluggard" in My Man Jeeves...

...and compare it to the intro in Carry On, Jeeves.

Not even close! What possessed anyone - Wodehouse or editors - to make this sort of cut? On some level I suppose I could understand it if it were purely for the sake of not needing to introduce the character partway through a book, when you'd certainly need to in a magazine, but clearly My Man Jeeves didn't see a problem with having Bertie repeatedly introduce Jeeves this way - and as a reader, neither did I! It's a very charming paragraph full of Bertieisms, and the nervous sort of hesitation upon wishing to call him a friend is even more endearing. Sure, the "guide, philosopher, and friend" quote is later used in the first chapter of 1923's The Inimitable Jeeves, so I can see why Wodehouse and/or editors might have thought the sentiment too repetitive to stick in a collection published afterwards, but the two are subtly different. Here, Bertie is unsure that he can call Jeeves a friend, but in The Inimitable Jeeves below, he says it with surety.

It's especially sweet with the knowledge that My Man Jeeves was published before The Inimitable Jeeves, because that shows this as growth! He's more willing to let himself acknowledge their friendship, and that's a wonderful thing! And even without that linearity, it's just so much weaker of a start. You aren't as drawn in by the significant blander intro as you are by the acquainted birds of poet Johnnies, or the "guide, don't you know" that Bertie relies on at every turn. It's more conversational, engaging, and just plain fun.

But that's not even really the most egregious removal. No, the biggest difference is the excising of the entire intro to "Leave It to Jeeves".

This whole section, which later segues into a sum-up of the events of "Extricating Young Gussie" and a description of New York, is just plain gone in "The Artistic Career of Corky", which this story has been renamed in Carry On, Jeeves. No "Melonsquashville, Tennesee", no horses named Banana Fritter, no Bertie trying to give Jeeves racing tips because he's fond of him. It's peak Bertie silliness, and I remember that I really loved reading it. And yes, again, maybe it was cut just because it follows "Jeeves Takes Charge", which already introduces the character, but I certainly don't see a reason why none of it could be kept - especially since the conceit of the series tends to read as if being told aloud to someone else, and thus it makes sense to repeatedly introduce the character in such a way to new listeners and audiences. Instead, we are given this by way of introduction.

This goes straight into the "Gussie" sum-up and the description of New York, as well as the subsequent description of Corky. All that fun before, reduced to a paltry bit of introductory exposition before the exposition that already happened in the original. Was it cut merely for length? Why else could this possibly have happened? Why remove all that delightful humor and prose in favor of something so much weaker and less interesting? It boggles the mind - boggles it.

In short, I've decided to keep the My Man Jeeves versions of these stories as they are. While some of the changes I saw weren't bad - saying that Rocky's poem went on for "three more verses" got a chuckle out of me, I will say, and the connective tissue with the other stories wasn't bad, either - it was not enough to sacrifice all this. Bertie's narration is always a delight, and I think that delight should be preserved. But if anyone has rebuttals as to why they think the Carry On, Jeeves versions should be used instead, I'd honestly love to hear them!

Thank you for reading!

[wu-does-art]

I fcking loved the sally face au where the gang knew each other since kids, please post more of this au (also, ur art is so cool!!)

:]

ask and you shall receive!

[volvolts]

If they did went into Belos' backstory which direction do you personally think the show would have went with (example: either Belos was a good kid but grew into a bad person, or even as a kid he was evil)?

Neutrally speaking, I feel like belos was meant to be as unsympathetic as possible and this should reflect in the backstory. Also iirc how evelyn met caleb was that she “went to find the least crazy human in town and caleb was that” meaning that caleb was definitely someone we are meant to compare favorably against philip. There’s also the two most important traits we have to also think about with belos: his refusal to change and his inability to take accountability. I think he would be a good kid in which being “good” mean he didn’t come out the womb evil but just doesn’t want to admit he’s wrong and never grew out of that

Ideally this would all be from caleb’s perspective and only cutting to philip sometimes to show his more manipulative traits and attachment issues. We would not be following philip’s perspective at all. 

I feel like with those in mind that it would go something like this: caleb shielded philip from the dangers of the world as best he could and while caleb grew weary and questioned society as philip’s protector, philip followed gravefields ideals uncritically. Also probably philip manipulates caleb to get out of stuff probably like faking a cold so caleb does his chores, taking advantage of caleb’s kindness and all that. It’s small things but like, red flags that add up ya know. also he probably has delusions of grandeur for his whole hero thing. Caleb meets evelyn and realizes the boiling isles is everything he wants to escape to. Maybe if philip and evelyn met he did stuff like hide letters evelyn gives him to give to caleb or something idk

Philip learns that caleb thinks “maybe witches aren’t bad actually and we don't need to be witch hunters” and does something awful to caleb or evelyn and so caleb follows evelyn and philip is unable to cope with the fact it was his own fault that he drove caleb away–it was the witches fault clearly. He needs to go to the demon realm to prove to himself that the witch did this. He does not reflect because he doesn’t think he needs to. 

From there we follow caleb unlearning his biases and realizing maybe philip was a bad brother to him and caleb was victim to the system. He learns, he copes, he’s recovering.

Then philip shows up.

Philip hasn’t changed. He’s still caught up on this idea it’s evelyns fault things happened. He doesn’t think he did anything wrong. he'll look guilty but brush it off and insist it's evelyn's fault. Philip brings the worst out of caleb. Philip is mad that caleb isn’t listening to him and caleb is mad that philip doesn’t realize he’s the problem. He still thinks he is just someone who can save caleb despite him not needing saving. Evelyn suggests that maybe he should cut philip off. Caleb refuses because philip is family. He’ll come around if he gives him time. 

And you know the rest

also ultimately he is this picture

[sammygender]

wrt dean hitting sam and how its obviously something with an established history of happening from the way sam acts about it (‘you satisfied?.. guess not’ ‘take a swing’ etc). i personally think this has been a pattern in their life pretty much forever. wait i ended up saying way more in the tags im gonan make another post i think

[frogatz]

monthly calypsoworld tag ramble :]

[mars-ipan]

ok quick little rendition of a 60s wives bc i saw this vintage ad and couldn't Not

the ad in question:

[ragnars-tooth]

On fire world rn and I'm losing my shit over Eliza going "david, he killed a man fucking around with time rifts and abandoned us bc he felt kind of bad about it 🤨"

(^eliza, pictured)

[andhumanslovedstories]

There was an interesting situation at work recently. I'm gonna keep it vague for privacy, but basically the husband of a patient threatened to shoot hospital employees after he perceived they were ignoring his wife's situation. Which, looking at the case, people were like, yeah, this patient was in prolonged discomfort and had delayed care over multiple shifts due to factors that weren't malicious but were careless. Basically, the task that would have helped this patient was classic "third thing on your to do list." It had to be done, but it didn't need to be done urgently. The impact of not doing this task likely wouldn't be felt on your shift. The work of doing this task would require the coordination of a couple different people. Very easy to just keep pushing it back, and because it wasn't an emergency (until it was), it just kept being pushed back.

You could do a root-cause analysis of the whole thing (and we have) to really break down what happened, but ultimately the effect was the same as if the neglect had been malicious. I'm sympathetic to the husband, as were a lot of people in this situation, because, yes, hospital staff dropped the ball in a way that meant the patient was in unnecessary pain and discomfort with delay of care for over a day, despite multiple requests from patient and family to address the situation. The husband reacted emotionally to a situation where he'd felt helpless and ignored. Institutional neglect ground away at him until he verbally snapped.

And the way he snapped was to tell staff, "I'm going to come back with a gun and shoot you all for what you've done." Which is about as explicit a threat as you can get. Does he get to keep visiting the hospital after that? How do we be fair to him, to the patient, and to the staff? He probably didn't mean it. Right? But how do you ignore a statement like that? If he does come back and commit a shooting, how will you justify ignoring his threat? But does one sentence said at an emotional breaking point define him? How much more traumatic are we going to make this hospital stay?

A couple years back, I worked on a floor a few hours after a patient had been escorted away for inappropriate behavior--by the way, you can't imagine how inappropriate the behavior has to be for us to do that. I have never seen another case like this. That patient said he was going to come back with a gun and shoot nurses that he identified by name. This didn't come to pass. Whether that was because the patient didn't mean it or changed his mind or was prevented or simply was not mentally coordinated enough to follow through on the plan, I don't know. I do know that shift fucking sucked. I remember the charge nurse telling me that it wasn't our jobs to die for our patients. If there was shooting, she told me to run.

There was another situation recently involving a patient in restraints. I despise restraints. I think the closest legitimate use for them is in ICUs for stopping delirious patients from ripping out their ventilators, and that should still be a last resort. I discontinue restraints whenever I inherit them, and I am very good at fixing problems before restraint seem like the only solution. Having said that, I work in a hospital that uses restraints, and so I am complicit in their use. Recently I walked into a situation involving restraints with zero context for what was happening, just that there was a security situation involving a patient who had been deemed for some reason to lack capacity to make medical decisions. They were on a court hold and a surrogate med override, which means they cannot refuse certain medications. The whole situation was horrible, and I've spent the days since it happened thinking about every way I personally failed that patient and what to do different next time.

At one point, the patient called one of the nurses a bitch, and the nurse said, "hey cmon, that's not nice," and the patient replied, "if you were in hell, would you call the devil a nice name?" And yeah! Fair! It is insane to expect people who are actively being denied their autonomy to be polite to us as we do it.

Then there was another patient on the behavioral health floor who got put in seclusion. It's so frustrating, by the way, that staff put them in seclusion because it would have been extremely easy to avoid escalating the situation to the point that it got to. But the situation did escalate, and by the time the patient was locked in a seclusion room, they were shouting slurs and kicking the walls. Other patients were scared of the patient even when they were calm because the patient talked endlessly about guns, poisons, bombs, etc. When I checked in with the patient in the seclusion room, they called me a cog in a fascist machine just following orders. And I was like, yeah. Fair.

Another patient: one night when I was charge nurse, I replied to a security situation where a patient trapped a staff member in the room and tried to choke her. The staff member escaped unharmed. She told me later that the patient had been verbally aggressive to her all day, but she hadn't told anyone because she knew he was having a bad day, she didn't want to get him in trouble, and she didn't think anything was actually going to happen. She said, "Patients are mean all the time."

And another case: I had a different patient with the ultimate combination of factors for violent agitation--confused, needed a translator, was hard of hearing so the translator was of little use, in pain, feverish, scared, withdrawing from alcohol, hadn't slept in two days, separated from his caregiver who had also just been hospitalized--the whole shebang. He shouted at us that we were human trafficking him and could not be reoriented to where he actually was or that he was sick. I tried all my usual methods of deescalation, which I am typically very good at. I could not get him to calm down. He had a hospital bed where the headboard pulls out so you can use it as a brace during compressions. He ripped that out and threw it at the window, trying to shatter the glass. At that point, with the permission of his medical surrogate and with help from security, I forcibly gave him IV medication for agitation and withdrawal. He slept all night with a sitter at his bedside to monitor him. I pondered when medication passed over the line into chemical restraint, but I stand by the decisions I made that shift.

Last one: I had a different patient who was dying who had a child with a warrant out for arrest. We didn't know for what, and no one investigated further because no one wanted to find out anything that might prevent this person from visiting his dying parent. Obviously, "warrant for arrest" could mean literally anything, although it was significant enough that security was aware of the situation and wanted us aware as well, but I was struck by how proactively the staff protected his visitation rights and extended him grace. Everyone was very aware of how easily the wrong word could start a process that would result in a parent and child losing the chance to say goodbye to each other.

In the case of the husband who threatened a mass shooting, you'd be surprised how many of the staff advocated for him to keep all visitation rights. After all, the patient wanted him there.

Violence--verbal, physical, active, passive, institutional, direct, inadvertent, malicious--pervades the hospital. It begets itself. You provoke people into violence, and then use that violence to justify why you must do actions that further provoke them. And also people are not helpless victims of circumstance, mindlessly reacting to whatever is the most noxious stimuli. But also we aren't not that. You have to interrupt the cycle somewhere. I think grace is one of the most powerful things we can give each other. I also think people own guns. Institutions have enormous overt and covert power that can feel impossible to resist, and they are made up of people with necks you can wring, and those people are the agents of that unstoppable power, and those people don't have unlimited agency and make choices every day about how and when to exercise it. We'll never solve this. You literally have to think about it forever, each and every time, and honor each success and failure by learning something new for the next inevitable moral dilemma that'll be along any minute now and is probably already here.

[luludeluluramblings]

Neglected!Pregnant!Reader x Yandere!Bat Family Part Three

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Part One ☁️ Part Two ☁️ Part Four ☁️ Part Five

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A/N: Sorry for the delay. My motivation fled for a bit and exhaustion hit me hard right before thanksgiving. I had to buckle down and just finish this.

A/N: I really wanna answer all my ask, there’s some things in there that y’all have sent me that I want to do for an AU of this. There’s just so many ideas I wanna try.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Warnings: Yandere themes, possible non-con (I only say possible, because Reader was drunk when consenting), fem!reader, possible violence towards Jason, my own made up headcanons.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

When you told Stephanie you were going to find out the gender of your little bean, you weren’t exactly surprised she wanted to have a gender reveal party. Though you did talk her out of the party aspect. You loved your friends, but you hadn’t told them about your pregnancy. Mostly because you knew they’d either accidentally spill the beans about said bean to someone they shouldn’t or they’d freak out and pester you about the unknown father.

It’s a shame you can only faintly remember dark hair, loving touches, and the heat from that night. You’d like to at least thank the man for giving you such gift. Even if said gift was making you throw up nearly every morning, constantly tired, and craving the oddest things with heartburn to follow.

Overall, things were going.

That was it. Things where just going. You were still looking for an apartment, but you were getting sidetracked a bit by nurseries. You knew you would love your child regardless of what they are or who they are. But, the little swan lake nursery was precious and the air plane nursery was darling. Both made you cry and change your mind on apartments at least six times. Hormones did not help with house hunting.

But, the day came. You went to your ultrasound and had them put the gender in an envelop to give to Stephanie for her to plan your day. You had to fight yourself from peaking at the paper, but, still, you waited the three extra days until you would find out the big reveal.

Unfortunately, Jason fucking ruined it.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Jason had been poking around the fridge. It was common for him to dig around the manor for food when he was there. Bruce was rich and groceries were expensive. (If he was looking for some of the princess’s cooking? That was his business.) But, he spotted something that stood out from the usual expensive organic fruits and vegetables and occasional meat.

“Hey, Alfred. Why is there a small cake in the fridge?" He could tell from the packaging it was from some fancy bakery. Probably one on the shiny posh side of Gotham. Which meant it would either taste like overpriced shit or absolutely delectable.

"That would be the young Miss's. I believe Miss Brown purchased it as a surprise." Alfred had replied from where he was currently taking inventory of the pantry. Maintaining a well supplied stock of the after mission snacks to proper management after all. Still, he did eye Jason from where he stood with his note pad. Knowing that Jason had a slight habit of causing trouble.

"Those two have been really close lately." Jason muttered suspiciously, mentally debating on if the cake was worth it or not with Alfred watching him.

"Dick is right. You really are starting to sound like Bruce." Duke and Cassandra had been sitting at the counter. Duke, having just gotten off patrol, had been in the kitchen to refill his water. While Cass had been munching on some snacks that she had hidden from the rest of them.

"Can it, light bulb." Came Jason's snarky voice as he silently popped the lid on the much to fancy cake open and pulled it out of the fridge. Alfred to far across the kitchen to stop him. "You know… This is a pretty big cake…"

"Jason, no." Even Duke knew it was a bad idea. If you had just gotten bold enough to through tubberware at Jason, God only knew what you might do if he ate a gift you'd been given. Plus, Steph would be on everyone’s ass for it. She was stingy with her money and everyone could tell she splurged for that cake.

"I would advise against that, Master Jason. Miss Brown already informed the young Miss of the cake and I believe that they wanted to have the first slices when they got back from their outing." Alfred knew you would happily share the cake, but, while he wanted to defend your sugary gift, he knew that that cake had a secret and for once Alfred couldn't restrain himself from wanting to be the first to discover it.

That drew both Cassandra and Duke's attentions away from the crime that was about to be committed. Both curious. The two of you really had gotten close. Cass only slightly tilted her head in curiosity while Duke had been the one to speak.

"Oh, they went out?"

"For pedicures, I was told. They are due to arrive back here shortly. "

"Well, if you wait, they might- Jason! Seriously?!" Duke had looked back to watch Jason slice into the cake with a spare butter-knife. Thankfully with enough finesse to not completely ruin your cake.

"What? The princess can share her damn cake-" He defends himself, about to grab a fork when he notices Cass looking directly at Alfred. "Why are you looking at Alfred like that?"

When she says nothing, Duke and Jason look at the tearful expression of Alfred's face. "Alfie, what's wrong?"

It takes a moment for them to realize that those aren't tears of anger or sadness as Alfred tries to compose himself. It takes Duke a few seconds longer to look at the slice of cake to connect the dots with a swiftness that would put Tim's title as second greatest detective to shame.

However, the only words that stumble out of his mouth in his shock are, "Jason, that cake is blue."

"Yeah, I know. Which is weird, but it taste great. Steph picked something really fancy for princess’s taste." Jason says finally taking a bite. It was good, Steph picked a good bakery. Not as good as Princess's homemade goods, but good enough.

"NO! Jason, why would a cake be blue?" The realization of what exactly Jason just ruined filled Duke with panic. This was going to be so much worse than the tubberware if he was right. So much worse.

Even Cass was a bit confused about the massive deal with the cake. She was more interested in the joy she was reading off of Alfred since that cake had been cut. She'd never seen the man so giddy, despite the only sign of any change in him was the misty look in his eyes.

"I don't know- Oh, great. The princess has returned." The sound of excited footsteps were heard heading towards the kitchen while Duke looked at Jason with anxiousness. Even Alfred seemed to brace himself.

As soon as you and Stephanie walked in the smiles dropped from your faces.

"Jason…. Tell me you didn't…" Stephanie murmured as she glared as Jason. Inwardly, she was excited. She had guessed correctly and won her own personal bet with herself. But, she comfortingly put a hand on your arm as you stared at the blue cake you didn’t get to cut.

Just from your expression, Duke can tell he might have been right and starts looking at Jason with an expression that screams, ‘Plead for mercy, you idiot.’

Alfred, thankfully, had enough sense to come out of his joy the moment he watches you walk up to the counter and look down at the cake with a despondent expression. His words comforting as he tries to ease the budding tension. “I'm so sorry, young miss. But, on the bright side-"

"Oh, come on, princess. You and Steph weren’t going to be able eat it all. You can afford to share. Besides, you’ve been looking a little pudgy lately anyway. Really need to stop acting like you’re eating for two."

Everyone looks directly at Jason in horror at what he just said. Seeing the spark of rage in your eyes makes Alfred take a step back in caution and Cassandra warns an aghast Duke of what she sees about to go down.

“Duke, duck.”

“Where?” He says in terrified confusion before suddenly your cake is slammed directly into Jason’s face with your hands coated in frosting.

"OH SHIT!”

"MISS!"

"Are you fucking crazy?" Jason stumbles back from the velocity of the cake to his face while he tries to wipe the buttercream from his eyes as you start berating him. Throwing everything in reaching distance at him. The bowl of fruit on the counter, the snacks Cass had been eating, even a pot from the stove.

"You ruined it! You ruined it! Alfred, where's the cast iron? I'm about to knock the dumbass outta him.” You start looking for something heavy, moving to dig through the cabinets with sugary fingers that are shaking with anger.

“About time someone did…” Stephanie mutters while she hides behind the counter to hide from the onslaught.

Before you can complete your search, Jason reveals just how well he preforms under pressure. Realizing a little too late what he might have just right when your hands find the cast iron skillet and your taking a swing at him.

"Wait! Wait! I'm sorry!" He barely dodged the hit with the sudden click of the information settling into his brain.

"You about to be sorry! This is the last straw, asshole. You fuckin' ruined it." You go to take another swing at him, nearly slipping in some frosting.

Jason’s eyes go wide before he risk a skillet to the face to catch you.

"You're right! I- Put that down, you're going to hurt yourself." He struggles to pull the pan from your sticky grip, not wanting to hurt you. This isn’t something he imagined having to use all his skills and talents for, but he thanks fuck he has them.

"Don't you tell me what to fuckin' do." You snarl while trying to hit him in the throat with your fist, causing him to almost let you slip.

"Jason!" Duke shouts out, knowing how bad it’ll be if you fall.

Jason tightens his grasp on you to the point your practically immobile, trying to calm you down with apologies and a panicked tone.

"Look, I'm sorry! I didn't realize-"

"That doesn't excuse you acting like a dick." You hiss, causing him to go silent as he tries to figure out how to fix this situation.

"You're right. It doesn't. But…" he trails off, leading to an awkward moment of silence

"Dude, you suck at this." Duke says before popping his head over the counter now that the cake and kitchen utensils have ceased to be airborne. Stephanie popping up next to him to give Jason an icy glare of her own while Cass stares at her ruined snacks. Alfred sighing as he runs the bridge of his nose from the similarities between old memories and the current scenario in the kitchen.

"Shut up, twinkle twinkle." He snarls before looking down a very pissed and most likely very pregnant you with a wince. "I… I know I'm a jackass."

"Astute observation, Master Jason." Alfred mutters while he behind to search for some cleaning supplies for the buttercream incident.

"Damn, Alfred's roasting you." Duke quickly shuts up when Jason gives him a lethal glare despite your futile attempts a wiggling out of his grasp. "Shutting up now."

Eventually you stop struggling, heaving in exhaustion and pitifully fighting back tears at your ruined gender reveal.

"I… Shouldn't be acting like a such an asshole. To you, specifically. You don't deserve that and I'm sorry." Jason tries as soon as he sees your lower lip start to wobble. He knows he’s prickly, but this is a new low that he’s not proud of.

"Now, you wanna apologize?" You’re honestly too emotional to deal with this. But, it’s the fact that he’s actually trying to give a meaningful apology when hardly anyone else does that makes you listen. Even if you’re mentally tearing him to shreds with your teary eyes.

"Yes. Now, I want to apologize." He sighs, putting you down. It’s quite a sit. Him not only apologizing, but him also doing it covered in white frosting and blue cake crumbs. "I'm… I'm not going to give you a bunch of excuses. I'm a jerk. But, I'm not heartless. I took this too far."

"You took it too far when you ate my frickin' fried cornbread." Comes your deadpan tone as you cross your arms. The fabric of your hoodie moving slightly to reveal the faintest of baby bumps.

"You're still mad about- You know what, fair enough. Don't eat the pregnant chick's food. Lesson learned." He starts to say exasperatedly before changing course at your stare and realizing he needed to suck it up.

“But, in my defense, it was really good.” He pipes off quickly, as an appeasing compliment.

Judging from the way your eyes further narrow and the reigning silence, he can tell he missed the mark.

Instead he tries to change course.

"Listen, I know this won't make up for it, but… I did see some vintage baby stuff in the attic when I snooped up there once."

"Oh, you found Master Bruce's old thing." Alfred exclaims with slightly raised brows. Coming back with Clorox wipes and all sorts of other supplies for the mess you had made. (He blames Jason, however. Don’t fret, dear one.)

"Wait, pause. Did you say those were Bruce's old baby clothes?"

"Yes, Master Jason.”

“I thought those were little girl’s baby dress. They looked like something a goth Victorian child mixed with a pilgrim would wear."

“I assure you they are Master Bruce’s.”

Everyone suddenly has a collective thought and a mighty need. Cake forgotten momentarily.

"Alfred, are there pictures of him in those clothes?" You ask with barely contained mischief, all anger and sadness gone as delight fills you. Mood swings could be such a blessing and a curse.

“Why, I do believe so.” There was a hint of knowing in Alfred's tone. One that also was finding delight in the idea he knew was passing through everyone's minds.

Immediately, and with renewed vigor, your head whips to Jason.

"Help me find the pictures and get me some Jokerized fries-."

"And, throw in a foot massage." Stephanie adds before you can finish. The suggestion causing Jason's eyes to widen while Duke shudders.

"What?!"

“Eww.”

"I kinda don't want him touching my feet. Too weird." You say. Even if they do ache often your not sure you really want the guy who had made your life hell before touching you so much. Even if he was apologetic.

“Oh, thank god.” He mutters under his breath before Stephanie speaks up again.

"Then let me have one. I bought the cake and I was looking forward to it. I had to fight the temptation not to spoil the surprise."

"I feel like that was a pun." Duke mutters.

"It wasn't."

A lighter tone settles over the kitchen as Alfred starts to clean. You tried to help, feeling embarrassment at having made such a mess. But, everyone else had stepped in to pick up the slack on account for your condition as Duke called it.

"Did you ever figure it out, Cass?" You asked curiously as you sat at the counter. A bit surprised that she hadn't disappeared as soon as the whole things had started. You both had always been cordial with each other. However, you knew she preferred to be alone at times. Hence, your lack of interaction. You had assumed she would have fled by now.

"Thought you had a stomach bug. Not a baby. This is better." Comes her short response. There's a subtle hint of wonder on her face. She's gotten better at sharing her feelings with other's so it's nice to see such an expression.

"Am I the only one terrified of how calm she is after she just threw an entire cake at Jason and was about to cast iron him?" Duke says while he finishes wiping the frosting from the skillet you had wielded earlier. The question causes Alfred to chuckle when you give Duke a narrowed look yourself.

"I remember Miss Martha throwing a chair at Master Thomas when she was pregnant with Master Bruce, so this, I dare say, is quite tame."

That comment makes more than a few eyebrows to raise and Jason to let out a whistle, while also realizing that is could've been worse for him in the long run.

"Why'd she do that?"

"Bruce decided to grace the world with his presence in the middle of the night."

"Ha!"

"I always knew he had been more in the dark."

Snickers could be heard before Alfred continued to explain. It was rare he got to share such stories.

"And, Thomas made the foolish mistake of asking her if she could hold Bruce in until a more reasonable hour."

"Alfred, he was a doctor." Stephanie points out.

"In his defense. Neither had slept for that entire week from the anticipation of Master Bruce’s arrival. But, really should have kept quiet on the matter. We would still have that lovely cherry wood chair if he had."

A round of laughter could be heard. You had laughed so hard that there were tears in your eyes as you giggled your way up to the attic.

Things had been ruined, but things had gotten better. If only they could stay better.

Down in the Batcave, Tim had gotten a message in between a few of the cases he was currently working on.

"Jon and I will stop by tomorrow, my dude." He read while taking a sip of this third energy drink for that afternoon. He only nodded in acknowledgment before going back to his work.

Elsewhere, on the Kent family farm, Conner grinned excitedly at his phone before tucking it away and stretching. He'd be seeing his favorite person tomorrow. Hopefully when they saw him they'd remember the best night of their life. It was definitely his.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: As funny it would be to have Conner just be a sweet goof, I want him to be yandere for this. I struggled to include that last part to show it, but hopefully it works.

A/N: Also, this is the calm before the storm. I kinda wanna try to make it angsty next chapter. And, not gonna lie, it might be brutal. But, I wanna challenge myself so when I make an AU I can do a good job on it.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who voted in the poll! I had been planning on a girl for Reader, so I was a bit surprised. Might save that for the AU. Time to name pick, and if y’all want y’all can suggest nurseries. Can’t guarantee we’ll do polls for them, but it’ll still be fun.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Taglist

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[nikovraskol]

crack baby ; three

wc ; 3745 masterlist after dying, you expected to be greeted with the open arms of the void swallowing your body, mind and soul. what you didn't anticipate is waking up sixteen once more with a chance to change your fate -- but something strange is happening, why are the locks changing and why are all eyes suddenly on you ?

tw ; brief mention of death, cursing, neglect

prologue, one, two, three, four, tbc..

Sometimes it feels like there is someone puppeteering you into the worst scenarios possible.

It started when finally, after days of contacting every single landlord in Gotham and Bludhaven, one kind old man reached back. The house he was willing to rent you wasn’t half bad either, certainly no Wayne Manor but a small apartment about a convenience store would suffice.

After regressing, you were stuck in a loop of tears and anger and whatever strange, uncomfortable feeling you got whenever you were reminded of your weird interaction with Dick.

But finally, light at the end of the rainbow! You could cry (of joy this time), but you’ve no time for tears. Not when you’re faced with a big, overpowering problem. Leaving the Manor.

Now, in the past, you could just get up and leave, however after your run-in with Damian and Dick, you’re apprehensive to leave your room. What if you’re ambushed again? By Tim? Or Jason? Or heaven forbid, Dick again? Terrifying! You don’t have time to dilly dally, not when Mr. Kim is waiting in your future home.

So, you’re very on edge, looking around every corner with apprehension, bracing yourself for anything and everything. When you finally reach the door, unharmed, you let out a deep sigh, only to hear a voice behind you.

“Master (Name).”

What now? You whip your head around, a sense of deja vu hitting you, oh, it’s just Alfred. You let out a sigh, glad it’s not Dick with his strange shenanigans. “Alfred, is everything alright?” You smile, out of everyone, Alfred is the one you love most, the one who cradled you close in those agonizingly lonely nights, when you’d call out for your mother, for your father, for anyone.

He was there.

“You’re heading out?” He asks, assessing you with an uneasy feeling in his stomach. A few days ago, Dick had informed him that you were acting strange, you had run away from your older brother. His mind raced, the implications of what that might mean has been weighing on the butler’s mind for days. It was uncharacteristic of you, up until about a week ago you would jump for joy if any of your family would glance at you.

But after that day, that day where you had skipped breakfast .. What changed? Why are you suddenly so uninterested in your family? It’s unnatural. Your whole life had always been dedicated to them, you’d do anything to be apart of them, to be seen. So why? When you finally had the chance to be centre stage, were you walking away? Something about your demeanour was off and he didn’t like it.

“Yes, I’ve–” You pause, should you tell Alfred? I’m going to move out and never speak to anyone from this house again! No, you’ll wait until you’ve secured a place before letting him know. You’re not prepared for that conversation. “I’m going to– for a walk.” The lie is stale on your tongue, you’ve never lied to Alfred, not besides petty ones to get out of trouble. But this feels different, a heavy knot tying in your shoulders as you watch the butler’s confused expression.

“Is that so? Because a few days ago, Master Dick–” You were out the door before he could finish his damn sentence. You are not in the mood to discuss Dick right now! It’s going to ruin your chipper mood.

The click of the door had Alfred’s eyes narrowing, his eyes trained on where you once stood. He believed that the small push he gave Bruce would be enough, but it’s just driving you further away. How troublesome, he doesn’t want for you to end up hurt.

“Wow! This is a really great place? And I get the first month free?” You are convinced whatever deity sent you back in time is responsible for the saint before you. The small, chubby old man who speaks to you in such a paternal voice it makes you want to cry.

“Of course, it’s no problem, I just need to speak to your guardian to agree on your emancipation, plus they’ll need to sign some consent forms.”

“What?” You blink dumbly, your heart momentarily stopping before the damn organ speeds up so quickly it could power a small village, you try to convey your thoughts but all you can manage is a few dumb noises. “Are– Are you sure?”

“Apologies, since you’re only sixteen – you must have a guardian’s consent, this is a legal rental after all,” he smiles apologetically, before adding, “if you want to live somewhere without your parent’s consent, it’ll have to be illegally – which can be dangerous, ‘specially for a youngling such as yourself.”

Oh, right. You’re sixteen. The fact slipped your mind once more, you’re so foolish. So damn foolish, nothing will ever be so easy, nothing in your life will ever be handed to you like this. “Right, I’ll– let you know.” You smile, your eyes scanning over the small apartment once more. It reminds you of the place you stayed with your mother, the small space encapsulating those memories you hold dear so perfectly that if you light a few ciggerattes and close your eyes, you'll go back in time.

“I’ll keep this off-sale for you, please let me know as soon as possible.” Mr. Kim, so nicely adds, his small face – wrinkled with age, softening at your disheartened expression. You so desperately want to beg for him to rethink, to make an exception, but you don't want to get him in trouble, not since he’s been so kind.

And so, with a heavy heart, you walk out, walking with effort since your feet don’t want to leave. Don’t want to leave a future that could be, that should’ve been. Ugh, how disgustingly sentimental.

You don’t feel like returning to the Manor, not yet. The air outside is nice, it’s nice to breathe in a taste of something other than the suffocating walls around you, even if it’s just some dingy back alley. It’s nice to see what could’ve been, that is until a large hand clamps down on your shoulder.

Oh, great. So the one time you leave the Manor you die again. Maybe you’ll regress to when you’re eleven next, you muse.

“What the hell are you doing around here?” You recognise that voice and immediately you don’t want to turn around. What is he doing out? During the day? You thought vigilantes only patrol during the lunar hours, so why? Your heart squeezes in your throat, desperate to claw its way out, to escape your pitiful body.

After a tense moment of silence, you turn around, there he stands. Red Hood, your older brother. Well, older brother is a stretch, you’ve never really interacted with him – much like the rest of your family. You were brought in when he was still Robin, but he died shortly after. A small, vengeful part of you blamed him for your neglect. That was until Bruce brought in Tim, and you watched bitterly how Tim was embraced immediately, he didn’t have to fight for any attention, he was accepted by everyone and you were forced to swallow the thought that it wasn't Jason's fault -- but your own.

When Jason was somehow brought back, you selfishly hoped you would be able to bond with him, that he’d be the one to look back at you, to get to your level and hold you close.

No such thing happened, the only time you saw him was when he was walking through the Manor to the Batcave, and even then, he gave you a bone-chilling glare. You didn’t think of him so optimistically after that. Now, with his hand clutching your shoulder, his expression covered by his menacing red helmet..

You’re ready to be shot 5 times again.

“I asked you a question.” He says, his hand tightening on your shoulder, you snap out of your stupor immediately, your fear morphing into frustration. You shove his hand off of you with more effort than you’re comfortable with, and even then you’re sure he’s the one who dropped his hand to not embarrass you any further.

“I’m allowed to go outside.” You huff, your nerves practically fighting against the restraints of your skin, a cold, overbearing feeling rushing over you. This was..– Everything was wrong, this is not how this is supposed to go, not at all.

“You were talking to Mr. Kim, why?” He asks bluntly, your heart stops beating for a moment, the only thing you can hear is the ringing in your ears, your brain trying to block this all out, trying to block out everything. “Actually, nevermind, I think I know why.”

You want to cry, why was this happening? You were so happy, so content. Why do you bump into them every time you leave your room, can’t you have one good day? Will you need to become a hermit? Will that get them off your back?

“I can drive you back to the Manor–”

“No, I’m fine.” You cut him off, your voice not masking any of your fear, it has Jason blinking under his mask. Why were you so on edge? What’s going on with you?

“I insist– Gotham isn’t safe for you to just be–..” He watches the downright terrified expression on your face before sighing and signalling for you to go, his stomach churns in an unfamiliar way as you scurry away.

Why were you so nervous? Could it be that you're scared of him?

That’s understandable, you’re not a vigilante, you’re just some average kid. But when he saw you walking alone, he detests himself for the way his heart swelled with happiness. In his Robin days, he loved watching the normalcy of your life, the way you would live free of any strings to the ghastly occupation he had.

He was scared to get closer, scared to shatter that illusion you had.

The fear amplified when he came back to life, he was relieved to see that you were still unaffiliated with Batman, but fuck, he was too cowardly to reach out, that day when you looked at him with gladness, he was hit with a paralysing fear of you getting too close, of you getting hurt. He replays the crushed expression that dawned your face like a damn broken stereo.

So when he saw you sulking about a few moments ago, he saw his chance to reach out, to get a taste of your normalcy, he took it, however selfish it may be.

“Whatever.” He grits, climbing up the roof to tail you, he’s content with watching from afar, for now.

The whole way back to the Manor felt like a fever dream, you can’t brush these oddities off as coincidences, why the hell did Red Hood approach you. Was he trying to pull a Damian? Was that a simple reminder of how pathetic you are? Why did he do that?!

Why was everyone acting so strangely?

The Manor offered you no comfort, it’s looming walls did nothing but remind you of your own shortcomings, you were afraid, you were perplexed but above all you were furious. Why now? When you’ve finally accepted your position in this family, why are they all turning their heads. Well damn them! You’re sick of this whole stupid charade, you won’t be that small child anymore, a child who knew only loneliness. You’re going to become your own person outside of the surname which has held you back for so long.

“We need to talk.” A voice calls out as you reach your room, what now? You’re sick of these damn conversations. You just want to move out, why is it so damn hard?

Oh, it’s Bruce again. Your lips press into a thin line as he stands before you, you can hear the soft humming running through the Manor walls. When you were younger, that sound brought you so much comfort, yet now it’s different. Like a warning.

“Talk? About what?” You try to smile, but it comes out as more of a grimace. You’re distinctly aware of the way his brows furrow at your pitiful expression. Oh hell, you hope this won’t be another walk down the Manor where you awkwardly fumble in silence.

You don’t say anything as he leads you away from your room, a sullen quilt draped over the Manor, a strange foreboding sense that something’s going to happen. Something bad. You’re utterly perplexed as your father guides you to a part of the Manor you’re somewhat familiar with.

As a child, you used to lurk around the corners of these very walls, watching your family, itching to reach out and join in but fearing ruining the delicate painting they created. Fearing rejection, the cold glares and sneers as they pushed you away. So you trailed silently, waiting, hoping that someone would look back, smile at you and maybe hold out their hand. But it only ever happened in your dreams, a pale illusion of a reality that should've been true.

“Where did you go?” He asks, his eyes boring onto you with such intensity you can distinctly feel the way your blood begins furiously to pump through your veins, why did he care? “Alfred said you went out.”

“I just wanted some fresh air.” You’re not sure why you’re lying, it’d be easier to tell Bruce that you went to go see a house, the consent forms are folded in your pocket, waiting for his signature. It’d be so simple, so easy. Just a dip of pen on paper and you’ll be out.

So why do you feel such dread? A dread unlike anything you’ve ever felt. When you were in that alley, bleeding out helplessly, even then this oppressive feeling, which tightens your ribcage, forcing your organs into a tight space until you couldn’t breathe, until you couldn’t comprehend if it was your heart pounding so heavily or your lungs, wasn't as scary.

“You’re only sixteen, you need to let someone know where you’re going.” His voice is so unbelievably despotic that it made your very core tremble with anxiety, with a looming sense of doom.

“It’s never been a problem before.” You mumble, your voice a lot quieter than you would’ve liked, your vocal chords burning with each word passing through it, your nerves invading each of your senses, as if warning you to stay quiet.

Bruce says nothing, and the moment the air grows stale you wish you could take your words back. You can see the way his brows crease, the way he looks at you as though you’re some sort of criminal and not his own flesh and blood, the soft humming in the walls has disappeared, left behind in your area of the Manor. Though it’s odd, when you would lurk around the Manor as a youthling, there was always some sort of background noise in this area, where everyone hung out. The silence unnerved you, another thing that’s changed, another thing you couldn’t have predicted.

“If you’re going out, make sure to let me know.” He sighs, his expression softening as he looks down at you with what you interpret as belittlement, a burning hot rage boils in your stomach, and once more, you’re hit with the knowledge this isn’t how things are supposed to go, Bruce isn’t supposed to care that you go out without telling anyone, he’s not supposed to care about you.

‘You don’t get to tell me what to do!’ you want to say, you want to scream, to ask what rights he has to treat you like a child? How dare he? It makes your very being tremble with frustration, your hands clenching with barely contained anger.

But you don’t. Why? Is it the natural response from your mind? The fear of disappointing him? The fear that if you speak up, you’ll be kicked out and left to rot? Or perhaps it’s the fear of confrontation you gained through his negligence, the weakness he moulded. But still, you’re not sixteen anymore, not really. Mentally, you’re twenty-one, you’ve been through each stage of your life, and maybe, sure, the day you died, you were content for them to walk all over you in exchange for a single glance at your direction.

But you’ve died and come back (in time)! You shouldn’t let them walk all over you anymore, shouldn’t be content as an afterthought. So– you open your mouth and–

“What’s going on?” Another voice speaks out, great, because this is exactly what you needed, another clown to join the circus. Oh.

Is this a joke? Is the person responsible for your misfortune giggling at your despair, is it amusing to see you suffer?

Damian, Dick, Jason and now Tim.

Why is Tim walking up to you? Why is he looking at you? A rush of dread, a sensation you’ve grown familiar with in the past few days, washes over you. You’ve never had his eyes on you, never for so long. It’s unnerving. You thought the calculating look in Bruce and Damian’s eyes was scary, but the way Tim looks at you now? His eyes zeroed in on you? It has your insides melting into liquid, the urge to cover your face, to hide in the corner and bury your face in your knees is overwhelming.

You don’t want his eyes on you, you decide. Years of clawing at your own shortcomings, of desperately trying to appeal to him, to have him look back – you would do anything at that time for him to look at you the way he is now.

But now? You don’t like it, he wears a neutral expression, but the look in his eyes makes you feel vulnerable, like he’s picking you apart one by one, each twitch, each mannerism.

“It’s about what we talked about.” Bruce says, his tone completely natural, like he’s discussing the weather, you don’t know the specifics but you have a nagging feeling that you know what he’s speaking of.

“Ah. Really? You’re still on that?” Tim tuts, his head tilting ever so slightly as he studies you. Just as you’re about to ask what the fuck does he mean by that, he turns his attention to Bruce. “I told you, they can’t do anything without your consent, they’re 16.”

How dare they? How dare they talk as though you’re not here? This is disgusting, what loathsome, egotistical dickheads! Your hands itch, the anxiety in you speeding all over your body like a livewire, mixing with your anger to create an overwhelming feeling of terror.

What was the point of Bruce bringing you here? To mock you? Show you how great they have it? What you’ve been missing out on? Well, screw him. You need to get away before you lash out, you’re better than that. Better than this.

The pair watches as you walk away, your whole body tense. For a moment, there’s a prolonged silence which is broken by Tim. “Did we do something wrong?” He asks, genuinely confused by your little display.

When he came back from a particularly tough mission, the last thing he was expecting was everybody collectively freaking out. Bruce, Damian, even Dick were all tense, looking around each corner – searching for something, someone. 

It was weird for a multitude of reasons, firstly – Dick was supposed to be gone by now, his stay at the Manor was for a few days only. Why is he here? And secondly, nothing particularly stressful was happening in Gotham, so what was with the gloom and doom?

When Bruce sighed, telling him about your plans to move out, well, to say Tim was confused was an understatement. That did not deserve such a reaction, but then he really thought about it, and, if this is how they react to you threatening to leave..

If you were to actually step out that door, to alienate away from them, to discard your last name. His head begins to throb at the implications, he’s acutely aware of how selfish it is for him to wish to keep you around, to keep you in this Manor all to keep himself happy.

But then the thought that, really, he’s doing this for you! If you thought it was so easy to just get up and leave, that at sixteen you’d just be able to pack up and go. Well, with that stupidity, you wouldn’t survive outside, in Gotham no less. He was able to placate Bruce’s stressing, thankfully, because the man looked three minutes away from a heart attack.

You wouldn’t be able to go without Bruce’s permission, so long as they had that – you’d stay with them. But that’s what led him to seeking you out now, if you had ideas about leaving that meant you were unhappy.

He was hoping to talk to you, to ask if you wanted to hang out – that’s what you want, right? When he thinks of you, his mind conjures up the slightly annoying, slightly endearing child that you were. He’ll hang out with you, destroy those silly notions and everything will go back to how it was.

So why did you stomp off? That’s not how you’re supposed to act. That’s not how you are.

“I don’t think so.” Bruce replies to his earlier question, his eyes still trained on the spot in which you were. How could you walk off?

Why were you so off during that conversation? He couldn’t…– This belies everything Alfred had told him about you, it's left Bruce conflicted. He had hoped that by bringing you here, he could ask which room you liked best. But you walked off, why? Why do you deny his affection? He was worried when he heard you left, a small, vulnerable part of him was afraid that you wouldn’t come back, that you had left for good, slipped through his fingers before he could hold you close.

So, when he saw you walk in ��� oh, he was elated. He just wanted to convey his worries, but you seemed to have gotten the wrong idea. He really doesn’t want that, you don't need anymore reasons to leave.

He doesn’t want the terrified expression on your face, he wants that dazzled look you used to carry around, he wants you – not this restless part of you, but the real you.

He'll get it back, he's sure he will.

ugh i hate the misunderstanding trope i say as i write the misunderstanding trope

tag list ;

@estreiiuh @beyondblissxoxo @jjsmeowthie @vanessa-boo @delias-stuff @d3nnji @wizzerreblogs s @lilyalone @strawbrysapphic @regulus-things s @iimichie @buckturd @eloriis @wassupbroski55555 @eyeless-kun @anakilusmos @peehall @bigeyedbaby @chaeugwi @snailpebbles @fandomly-obsessed @kitkatkitmeow @the-holy-pigeon @sheep-from-rad @mei-simp

[papayadays]

book girls belong to biker boys? - ln4

⋆˚✿˖°a/n: i was inspired by lando's biker outfit on media, and inspiration just struck (i swear i will get back on so close to what) ⋆˚✿˖° where a close run-in leads to something else or the one where you almost get run over by lando norris ⋆˚✿˖° faceclaim: alisha newton :)

liked by mclaren and others f1 lando arriving to the paddock in style! the mclaren driver pulled up to media day on a moped in principality

user5 someone sedate me

user6 monaco weekend let’s go lando!

user7 omg biker lando??? he looks so good

user8 hold on @/bookiemonster is this the guy who almost hit you?

bookiemonster wtf that’s him he’s a driver??? brb jumping off a cliff

user9 lando almost hit someone 😭

liked by mclaren and others bookiemonster “i would rather die of passion than boredom” - vincent van gogh (book rec of the day: this is how you lose the time war by amal el-mohtar and max gladstone)

bff forever in your debt 💞

bookiemonster anything for you

mclaren glad to have you with us! liked by author

user13 wait WHAT?? who is she and how did she get garage passes?

user14 living my dream fr

user15 great. for. you. 😭

user16 pity invite??

user17 stay mad @/user16

user18 OMG THE BOOK REC?? I LOVE TIHYLTTW it’s so so beautiful

[lando is now following you!]

bookiemonster posted to their story!

caption: front wing all by itself hehe fp1 & fp2 done

bff replied: WTF WHEN DID YOU PICK UP ON F1 JARGON?? bff replied: I’VE BEEN TRYING TO TEACH YOU bff replied: IT’S A LANDMARK DAY

lando replied: yep! you’re a fast learner

bookiemonster added to their story!

caption: at least they have good bookstores and pretty streets here

bff replied: gorg as always 😍

lando replied: no photo creds? do you hate me or something?

liked by bff and others bookiemonster “i hope it’s love” - richard siken

bff when you told me you were going out, you neglected to say that it was a DATE

bookiemonster sorry! it was just a quiet date and i needed to just process it forgive me 🥺

bff forgiven but tell me all about it asap

user19 how could you do this? think about your book boyfriends

bookiemonster they’ll forever have a special place in my heart, i haven’t forgotten my roots 😔

user20 THE RICHARD SIKEN QUOTE oh my heart

user21 calling me single in literature is a violation 😭

user22 i hope he knows enough literature to match her freak

bookiemonster 😅 about that…

user23 top 10 anime betrayals

user24 he better treat her right

liked by mclaren and others lando cya tomorrow for quali, monaco

user25 lando using commas in places i don’t even remember to put them 😭

user26 a changed man

mclaren is it time to hire you for the photography team?

user27 mclaren jesus 💀

user28 this is lando.jpg type post

user29 pic is gorg just like lando 😍

user30 who else is hyped for qualifying?

bookiemonster added to their private story!

caption: hope you get pole or whatever

bff replied: posting him already? bff replied: ooh girl you are so down bad for him

lando replied: hey look that’s me! thanks for the luck

liked by mclaren and others bookiemonster “there is no dishonor in losing the race. there is only dishonor in not racing because you are afraid to lose.” - the art of racing in the rain by garth stein (which is my book rec of the day!)

bff i am so glad i dragged you here with me

bookiemonster i too, am very glad i went with you

mclaren our own garage literature scholar 🧡 liked by author

user31 oh so she’s close close w the team

user32 omg the movie for the art of racing in the rain was so good 🥹 yet another banger rec

user33 not her pretending to become a fan for clout

user34 sybau :)

user35 so here for her f1 x literature crossover

user36 imagine if she starts matching f1 moments to poetry? i would perish

user37 RIGHT? like emily dickinson with half the grid?

user38 did not expect her to get into sport this year let alone f1

liked by mclaren and others lando monaco pole. bam.

user39 LANDO POLE WE USED TO PRAY FOR TIMES LIKE THIS

mclaren mega lap!! 👏

user40 new track record is insane

bookiemonster “bam”? just like how you almost hit me with your moped?

user41 HELP that was a violation

lando you’ve been waiting to say something like that, huh?

bookiemonster can neither confirm nor deny

user42 i know my goat!!

user43 lando nation we never left

liked by others f1gossip lando wanted to impressive a “pretty girl” with his pole 👀

user44 HELLO?? what kind of bombshell is this

user45 fr like casually dropping this in a post quali interview is crazy

user46 that should be me 😔

user47 guys be so fr it’s just another model like “pretty girl” is so shallow

user48 is that supposed to be a revelation? lmao they always date models

user49 he’s so happy when he’s mentioning his parents and the girl 🥹

user50 idk which insta model he’s hooking up w atp my driver got pole

liked by bookiemonster and others lando “let me name the stars for you” - richard siken

bookiemonster 🫶 liked by author

user51 he’s officially down bad

user52 past down bad

user53 she’s so gorgeous omg 🤭

user54 he’s quoting richard siken it’s over

user55 WAITTTT SO THEY WERE SOFT LAUNCHING EACH OTHER

user56 you’re so right how did we not see this?

user57 new otp alert!!

liked by lando and others bookiemonster “you’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him” - richard siken

lando 💘💘💘 liked by author

user58 he’s in his loverboy era

user59 stopppp their matching posts are so cute

user60 god i’ve seen what you’ve done for others

user61 is no one talking abt how beautiful their richard siken quotes are?

user62 no real because why are they calling me single and kicking me in the gut

user63 oh how i wish to quote poetry with someone i loved

user64 and to think it all started with lando almost running her over

user65 😭😭

[echo-exco]

❝DOCTOR I CAN’T TELL IF I’M NOT ME.❞

୨⎯ ┊BATFAM X NEGLECTED!HEALER!READER ꒱

✰ ৎ──────SYPNOPSIS: all you ever wanted was a purpose. something that would give meaning to your existence, your power. healing others was the only thing that ever made you feel alive, needed… until you ended up in that awful place.

✰ ৎ────── masterlist. | next.

There is only one thing you ever truly wished for in this life: a purpose.

Something that would justify your existence, that would give meaning to every breath, every wound, every sleepless night.

And you found it. Not in an empty promise or in the affection of others. You found it in your own power.

A selfish desire, yes, but undeniably yours. A purpose born not out of love, but out of need.

From that strange power growing inside you, the one that forced you to look at others’ suffering with cold, almost cynical eyes. As if every wound were a problem only you could solve. As if every scream of pain were a prayer meant solely for you.

You clung to that.

To the idea that your worth existed only in your abilities.

The ability to stop someone from dying in front of you. To rip death from their body with your own hands. To stitch broken flesh with threads that hurt, yes, but worked. That was the only thing that ever made you feel alive. The only thing that ever made you feel alive, needed.

For a while, it was enough.

For a long while, you were selfish.

It didn’t matter if they used you. It didn’t matter if it hurt. If every healing left another scar on you. If every salvation cost you a little more of the little you had left.

As long as you could keep doing it—healing, fixing, protecting— the price didn’t matter.

Because at the end of the day, you could lie down on that mattress of emptiness and tell yourself: “Today, I made it worth it.”

Your existence and your power meant something.

Of course, you didn’t have a mother to share secrets with, nor guardians who offered you love. Only faces that came and went, and the bitter understanding that you were just another burden in a broken system.

Until, by some twisted stroke of fate, you had the “pleasure” of meeting your biological father.

Bruce Wayne.

Billionaire. Philanthropist. Playboy.

Batman.

Even so, none of that really mattered to you. What truly hit you was learning that you had to leave everything behind and go to Gotham.

That cursed city, that concrete jungle drowned in darkness and crime. Where dreams go to die and bodies, if they’re lucky, go to sleep.

Gotham wasn’t a home. It was a prison for someone like you.

A place where meta-humans like you were enemies, threats, problems to be contained.

Your power, your only purpose, was stripped away with nothing more than a change of zip code.

And that was the cruelest part of all.

Not being able to use it.

Not being able to save.

Not being able to be useful.

Your existence, reduced to ashes, like the bodies of those you didn’t reach in time.

It must be poetic, right? The healer who cannot heal. The savior without faith.

They hate you. You've felt it. That visceral resentment from those who survived because of you, but still blame you for what you couldn’t stop. Screams, stares, choked pleas— all of them pierced your soul deeper than any weapon ever could.

For someone who once swore to save lives, it’s only natural that those you vowed and wanted to save now express their utter disgust and despair toward the false, horrific salvation you once offered them.

And now? Now you live among strangers.

An immense mansion full of absences. With brothers who seemingly don’t recognize you, and a father who doesn’t see you.

Your arrival in Gotham wasn’t exactly ideal, at least, that’s how you think you remember it.

It’s hard for you to remember that moment. You don’t hold on to unnecessary memories… none of it will make you feel alive again.

Apparently, your new father figure has several children. Some of them are already adults. With lives of their own far from the mansion, you don’t know much about them, they were almost always too busy to say anything to you.

You can’t understand them, can’t they come up with better excuses? You don’t want these people’s attention.

These people can’t help you with your abilities. They can’t make you believe you’re still allowed to use them freely.

No, these people are just strangers who stumbled into your life overnight and want nothing to do with the problem. Not even your new father had the decency or responsibility to try forming a bond with you.

Bruce Wayne was an absent father. Not in the way someone leaves and disappears completely, but in the kind of absence that feels stronger the closer the person is. A hollow physical presence, like a ghost made of flesh and bone. One who could look you in the eyes and still not see you.

He struggled to communicate, to make time for you, to even remember that there was now one more occupied room in that massive mansion of his.

He doesn’t know how to deal with you, and you don’t know how to deal with him either. At first, you wondered if the problem was you. If you had done something wrong. If the way you talked, walked—even breathed, was so bothersome that he’d rather bury himself in work than give you an hour of his time.

But soon, you realized something even crueler: You don’t need a father. You’re not looking for one. You’re not waiting for one.

What you need is a patient. Someone you can heal. Someone who needs you.

Because that’s what you’ve always done. Heal. And Bruce… Bruce simply refuses to be healed.

But he doesn’t understand.

When you approach him, when you seek him out, when you try to speak to him, all he does is throw up a wall made of cold words, as practical and impersonal as that damn business suit of his.

“I’m busy.”

“Not now.”

“We’ll talk later.”

“It’s for work.”

Always the same. Always excuses with the bitter taste of indifference.

Is this what having a father is supposed to feel like? Because if it is, then it doesn’t feel any different from your days in foster care.

At least there, you knew you were alone. Here, they make you believe you’re not… but you are, more than ever.

You’ve learned to observe the details, as always. It’s one of the few things you’re good at, aside from using your power.

You notice the tired look in his eyes, the dark circles underneath, the way his fingers tense around his pen like he’s trying to crush it. The stack of papers on his desk never gets smaller, it’s like it multiplies just to keep you at a distance.

And the subtle changes… that lower tone in his voice when he sees you, like he can’t even be bothered to raise it for you. The way his eyebrows furrow, not out of anger, just… annoyance. Irritation.

That’s what hurt the most.

So you stopped trying. Because if you kept going, you were only going to be reprimanded by the one you were supposed to please. You convinced yourself that you don’t need his approval. That you don’t need his love. That you’re better off without him.

But then, why is it that every time you walk past his office, you pause for a second, hoping that door opens, just once, without you knocking first?

Why do you still need him to see you?

Richard Grayson is the eldest. The first adopted son of Bruce Wayne. Everyone sees him as a beacon of hope, the moral compass of this family made of shadows and scars. And it makes sense. He has that bright smile, that genuine warmth the others can barely fake. He gives out hugs without being asked, listens patiently, laughs easily, and has that absurd gift of making anyone feel seen, at least, if you’re one of his.

Because with you, it was always different.

From the beginning, Richard seemed kind. Seemed. But between that warmth and you, there was always a distance, like someone had drawn a curtain between the two of you. You heard his apologies more than you heard his actual voice.

“Sorry, I have to head out right now.”

“Sorry, I was already on my way to Blüdhaven.”

“Next time, I promise.”

He was always rushing. Always busy. Always somewhere else. And you… you’re not someone who believes in empty promises.

At first, you thought it was just bad luck. That maybe if you insisted a little, if you found an excuse, if you caught him in the kitchen, he might stay for five minutes. Just five. But those minutes never came. And you started to notice a pattern. How his demeanor shifted the moment you walked into the room. How his smile became more diplomatic. More rehearsed. How his footsteps sped up when he thought you weren’t watching.

You didn’t want to admit it at first, but something inside you began to whisper an uncomfortable truth; He was avoiding you.

And then you understood. If Richard Grayson, the kindest, the most human, the most "big brother" of them all, couldn’t be around you, then what was the point of trying with the others? What could you possibly expect from Jason, who barely speaks to you? From Tim, who seems more invested in his computer than in actual people? From Damian, who can barely tolerate his own shadow?

So you did the same.

You avoided them. One by one.

You decided it wasn’t worth it. That if you weren’t going to be a real part of this family, you weren’t going to pretend.

It’s easier that way. It doesn’t hurt as much if you’re the one walking away first.

But sometimes, when you see them laughing together from the staircase, or hear Richard speaking so fondly of the others, a part of you wonders if it was ever really your choice to walk away, or if they’d been leaving you behind from the very beginning.

Your suspicions didn’t take long to confirm. All it took was talking to a few of your supposed brothers to realize the pattern repeated itself.

Jason, Tim, Damian…

Each one was a story unto themselves. Each one was a maze of traumas, masks, and poorly calibrated emotional responses. But if you had to describe them in one word, it would be: inaccessible.

The second of your brothers was Jason, and from what little you could gather, because no one seemed eager to talk about it much, Jason had died. And then he came back. It wasn’t a metaphor. It wasn’t an exaggeration. He had been buried, and now he was not. That simple statement was enough to provoke a morbid curiosity, almost scientific. What had changed in his body? Did he suffer from partial necrosis? Brain damage? Did his muscles regenerate? What residual effects did resurrection have on human physiology? Everything in you screamed to investigate. To dissect. To understand.

It was a dangerous thought. You knew that. You repeated it to yourself like a mantra: too tempting for your own good.

But what confused you the most wasn’t his condition, it was his behavior toward you. Jason had this aura of latent violence, like dynamite that could explode with the wrong spark. But that wasn’t what kept you away. Not entirely. It was his inexplicable rejection.

You didn’t understand it. You didn’t provoke him. You didn’t talk to him, you didn’t interfere, you didn’t cross the line. And yet, his gaze was always sharp. As if your mere presence triggered something in him. Irritation. Annoyance. Maybe even disdain.

You wondered if it was your fault. If the way you were, the way you spoke, the way you were, simply bothered him. But you couldn’t find an answer. And though you wanted to, you knew that getting closer would be too risky.

Because you’ve seen the broken walls. The misaligned doors. The tables split in two like they were made of paper. You’ve felt the tension in the air when Jason enters a room and isn’t in the mood. And you know, without needing confirmation, that his punches aren’t soft. That his rage doesn’t distinguish between the guilty and the witnesses.

So, you avoid him.

Not out of fear exactly, but out of caution. Self-preservation. You don’t want to be the next crack in the walls of this house.

Tim was a different kind of strange. More than Jason, though in a completely different way. His oddity didn’t stem from aggression or visible trauma. It was more subtle. More internal.

Almost clinical.

You observed him, like you observe everything. With that gaze of yours that searches for patterns, inconsistencies, vulnerabilities. And in him, you found many.

Surprisingly, Tim was brilliant. Not just "smart for his age," but one of those cases where the brain moves faster than the body. Too fast. So much so, that sometimes it seemed like his body gave up halfway through.

The dark circles under his eyes were a constant. His responses were slow, as if they had to pass through a filter of a thousand thoughts before being verbalized. He walked like his mind was too heavy for his spine to carry. A shadow carrying ideas. You were surprised he hadn’t fainted yet from the combination of insomnia, chronic stress, and mild malnutrition.

No one asked you.

No one thanked you.

But still, you started leaving him food. Food that could sustain him without causing a stomach collapse. Nothing too obvious, of course. A yogurt here. Cut fruits there.

Something easy to eat between keystrokes. You allied yourself with Alfred in that small act of silent intervention. The old butler seemed to notice, but he never mentioned it. And you never confirmed it.

Tim would probably assume it was all Alfred’s doing. In fact, you counted on it.

Not because you wanted to keep it a secret. But because you knew that if he suspected you were behind something so... "thoughtful," it would only make him uncomfortable. He doesn’t know how to respond to care, to the intention behind such detail. Tim doesn’t know how to handle it if that sincere gesture comes from you.

Just like you would if any of them ever tried it with you.

Alfred... Alfred is a different matter.

Of all the people in the house, he’s the only one who acts like your existence isn’t a miscalculation. But he doesn’t fool himself. He doesn’t offer you love, or tenderness. He offers you structure. Routine. Measured phrases and cups of tea.

It’s not affection between you.

It’s a sort of tacit alliance.

Two functional people in the middle of a broken ecosystem.

You know he tries. But you also know it’s not enough for you.

You’ve seen children like you. In hospitals. In refugee camps. In temporary homes. Children who cling to an adult figure as if their life depended on it, and are then destroyed when that figure leaves. Or worse, when they stay but stop looking.

You don’t want that for yourself.

You convince yourself this is better. A working relationship. A dynamic where each one fulfills their role and no one crosses the line into the personal. Because if you get attached, if you let yourself believe this could mean something...

You know how that ends. They can’t give you what you’re looking for.

They can’t give you purpose.

They can’t return what was taken from you when you understood that your value only exists if you can heal, if you can serve, if you can be useful.

You still don’t know who you are when you’re none of that.

Back to the subject of your "family," the last on the list of who your siblings were, was Damian.

The youngest of the group. The second biological son of Bruce Wayne.

You said it out loud once, casually: "Ah, so he is the real one."

No one found it funny.

Unlike the others, Damian didn’t need time to show you that you weren’t welcome. He didn’t bother to fake courtesy or neutrality. From the beginning, he made it clear that your existence was expendable.

Maybe it was your silence. Maybe it was your lack of reaction to his provocations. Maybe he just didn’t like you. But he pointed his katana at you the first month you arrived.

The blade against your neck wasn’t a metaphor. It was real, cold, intimidating contact. You felt a thread of power activate instinctively in your body, a reflex of defense, of desperation. If you had let it go, well, you wouldn’t be here, mentally recalling this account.

You didn’t. Not for him. For you.

Because it wasn’t worth it. Because using your power on someone in your “family” would mean admitting they were important enough to hurt you.

They weren’t. Not yet.

You can’t risk being discovered. No one can know that you actually have this power. None of them can know.

Bruce appeared just in time to prevent the confrontation from escalating. Did he protect you? Not exactly. He simply said something like, “Damian has a complicated history,” as if that justified a death threat in the family kitchen.

Is it common in Gotham to justify a child’s homicidal impulses if they've had a difficult childhood?

That was your question. You didn’t ask it out loud. No one would have liked the answer.

It was also that day you found out that Damian was Bruce’s biological son. And you couldn’t help but think about the irony of it all.

The same Bruce Wayne who, in the public eye, was a scandalous figure, a charming, charismatic playboy billionaire with endless parties, had exactly one biological child. One. Not five. Not a legion of illegitimate children scattered across the world. Just one.

That kid turned out to be a ticking time bomb with a traditional sword.

Everything fit so perfectly wrong that it almost seemed planned.

With the girls, it's complicated. Maybe even more so because, deep down, a part of you thought they could be different.

Stephanie. She was like a female version of Richard, a constant smile, a vibrant energy that everyone seemed to adore, except you.

She greeted you with empty enthusiasm, one that never went beyond the surface. It was easy to see that behind her good mood, there was a locked door she wasn’t going to open for you.

And you understood. Because you'd seen it before.

People who act as if everyone is welcome, except you.

Stephanie was just another confirmation that no matter how hard you tried to fit in, this home was already full. You weren’t in the original plan. You never were.

Barbara, on the other hand, was simpler. She was hardly ever at the mansion. You’d see her sporadically, a red ghost in the shadows of fleeting visits. And still, in that limited time, she always found a way to smile at others, share a joke, a quick conversation, a knowing glance… Never with you.

Not once.

It was as if your presence went by unnoticed, not even worth including out of courtesy.

Cassandra was the most honest, in a way. She didn’t pretend. She didn’t smile. She didn’t speak.

She ignored your attempts to help with almost admirable efficiency. You could attribute it to her trauma, her history, her way of seeing the world… but that excuse starts to wear thin when it’s the only one left to justify everything.

Maybe you’re just not interesting. Maybe you don’t even stand out enough to be actively rejected.

Or is it because you don’t even deserve her attention?

It was easier to believe that they all had a reason not to see you.

Easier than admitting that maybe, you weren’t that hard to ignore.

What was dangerous about this family wasn’t the weapons, nor the katanas, nor the fists that had broken ribs more than once.

It was the mask.

It took you time to understand it. First, it was a hunch. Then a suspicion. Finally, a certainty: they were all vigilantes. Heroes of Gotham. The same ones who make your hands tremble when you try to use your power. The ones who make your gift feel useless. As if it were a mistake rather than a blessing.

The irony is so perfect it could almost make you laugh.

You can’t feel useful, can’t do the one thing you know how to do perfectly, because you’re surrounded by those who fight so that people and beings like you are neither necessary nor welcome.

And yet, you prefer them this way.

Cold. Distant. Detached. Unknown. Because connections are dangerous. Because memories weigh. Because at some point, someone taught you that affection is the hook that precedes the pain.

Because you know it better than anyone. When you get attached to someone, it’s not just pain that you feel when you lose them. It’s as if a part of you dies too. Not because you lose them, but because without your power, without that “usefulness,” you feel like you never deserved to have them in the first place.

In Gotham, you can’t do anything.

You can't heal.

You can't save.

You can't be useful.

You can't be loved. Or at least, that’s what they taught you to believe.

Here, you have no parts left that you can afford to lose. Not while you're trapped in this city that doesn’t need what you can give. A family that doesn't know what to do with you. You don’t know what to do with yourself either.

They can’t give you a purpose.

They never could.

They didn’t even try.

You expected so little, that not even that surprised you.

Until you found him.

The only living person who not only recognized your power, but accepted it for what you wanted it to be:

A miracle.

He called himself Doctor Masashi. A kind voice, a serene figure. But behind that calmness was surgical precision. He knew exactly how to shape you. How to rebuild you, only to destroy you again with elegance.

He was the only one who never lied to you about what you were:

A weapon.

A tool.

A precious jewel that only shines when it bleeds for others.

A perfect puppet.

And you, grateful for the strings.

He gave you direction when all you had was guilt.

He gave you structure when all you had was emptiness.

He gave you… meaning. A cruel meaning. A conditioned meaning. But still, you took it.

It can't be that bad, right?

Clinging to that.

Clinging to him.

Clinging to something that tells you that you can still be "something."

Because if someone, even just one person, can look at you and say that you are good for something, then you're not broken.

Then you're not alone. Then everything that hurt was worth it.

Even if guilt drowns you every night.

Even if the nightmares never rest.

Even if the hands you tried to save still drag you from their graves, begging for a second death.

It doesn't matter. As long as someone believes that keeping you alive makes sense... then that’s enough.

Right?

Maybe you're a weapon.

Maybe you're selfish.

Maybe you did it all just out of fear of disappearing, for that unbearable need to feel alive.

The need to feel that you matter. To have a place to fit in.

But at least you're something. In this shattered world, that's already more than many have.

But how much more can you take before you truly break? How much longer before you completely crumble, like so many times you did on the inside? How much will the price of his greed cost… and your desperate desire to remain useful?

Because in the end, it wasn't Bruce.

Nor your brothers.

Nor your sisters.

None of them ever knew who you were.

None of them understood.

Only him. Only Masashi.

That’s what scares you the most. Because if even he can make you believe that’s all you’re worth. If even he manages to make you cling to that idea, then maybe, you were never more than that.

Maybe you were never more than your power, and in Gotham, where you can no longer use it...

Not even that belongs to you.

[hurtspideyparker]

If Civil War didn't end in divorce and everyone lived together Part 2

Read Part 1 and Part 3

Tony: Why is Underoos mopping the ceiling?

Sam: Told him since he's sticky that's his chore

Bucky: It's only fair he helps out around the house

Tony: Hm. Makes sense

-

Vision cooked dinner:

Peter: *pushing around food to make it look eaten*

Natasha: *surreptitiously spitting into napkin*

Steve: *taking small bites with tons of water*

Bucky: *just stares at full plate*

Tony: Well this is disgusting, I'm ordering pizza

-

Sam: C'mon man stop moping around, you gotta get yourself a girl

Bucky: Ok.

Sam: Ok? Okayyyyy! I know-

Bucky: Give me your phone

Sam: Oh you got a number in mind already hotshot? *hands phone over*

Bucky: *ring* Hi Sarah ;)

Sam: BOY-

-

Peter: Ned thought you would seperate your colours from your lights but he also thought you'd be homophobic so I don't pay him much mind cuz clearly I'm more of a superhero expert than him but he does have a 2% better average than me in history so like maybe you do hand wash your clothes and that's why I asked what underwear you wear because-

Steve: *listening intently with apprehension and alarm*

Natasha: I can't believe you found the one person on Earth who talks more nonsense than you

Tony: I know right, it's incredibly unnerving. I'm planning on adopting him

-

Peter: Mr. Stark I have to tell you something. I think Vision is a... *whispers* pervert

Tony: Um, why?

Peter: He keeps floating through my room without knocking! He saw me changing, he saw my nipples !

Tony: Well if anyone's a predator here it would be you. I mean showing your nipples to a 2 year old? Deplorable.

Peter:

Peter: Oh god, I'm the pervert...

-

Bucky: Y'know animosity isn't good between teammates. I think we should spend more time together

Sam: Am I being punked right now? Where's the camera

Bucky: I'm serious. I think it would be healthy for us to bond

Sam: Okay fine I'll bite... what did you have in mind

Bucky: Wanna go for a run?

Sam: *slams door in Bucky's face*

-

*staring at Bucky's sparkly clean metal arm*

Bucky: Dishwasher?

Peter: Dishwasher :)

(later that day)

Bucky: I've decided to let the child live

Peter: YoU wHaT?!

-

Thwip

Tony: Who took my coffee cup, It was right here

Thwip

Bruce: Um, has someone seen my book? I just had it

Thwip

Steve: I could've sworn I was holding a pen a moment ago

*giggling from the ceiling*

Tony: Young man I will take those webshooters away if you use them for shenanigans and rascality

Peter, muffled: Mr. Hawkeye told me to!

Clint: Oh so you're just gonna rat me out like that?

Peter: Sor- OOF

*falls out of ceiling vent*

-

Sam: You're in my spot

Bucky: There are no spots, it's a common area

Sam: Well that's my spot

Bucky: Did you buy the chair??

Sam: No, but everyone knows that's where I sit. Right Steve?

Steve: Oops I forgot something in my car, be right back *leaves*

Sam: Still my spot

Bucky: Still not

Sam: *sits on him*

Bucky: WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU ALL THE COUCHES ARE FREE-

Sam: IT'S MY SPOT YOU CAN'T TAKE A MAN'S FAVOURITE CHAIR-

BUCKY: YOU HAVE ISSUES GET OFF ME-

(one hour later)

Steve: Hey so turns out I don't have a car! Isn't that funn...

Sam & Bucky: *Squeezed awkwardly on the chair together*

Steve: I think I left something in my car

-

Steve: Leave the bedroom door open when you have Vision in there

Wanda: UGH you're so protective

Tony: Teenagers, am I right? Caught Pete reassembling my particle accelerator at midnight because he needed to neutralize a miniature nuclear bomb he nabbed off some guy he neglected to tell me was trying to kill him

Steve:

Steve: Wanda y'know what do whatever you want

Wanda: Really?

Steve: Yes just keep being normal. At least I can read about our issues in a parenting book

-

Thor: Ah, new warriors I see! Good to make all your acquaintance. But why are you so grumpy my friend?

Bucky: *glaring*

Peter: He's always like that. It's um, P- P- PMS? Wait -

Natasha: Yes it's PMS

Wanda: He's got it bad

Steve: *genuinely concerned* Bucky you didn't tell me something was wrong. What can I do to help?

Bucky:

Bucky: I like chocolate

-

Wanda: Welcome to the first annual girls night! This place reeks of men, so I thought we needed some women time

Pepper: Why is Vision here?

Wanda: I get sad when he's gone

Natasha: Why is Pietro here?

Pietro: Slay queens

Wanda: Moral support I think

Maria: Why is Peter here?

Wanda: He looked really upset when I said he wasn't included and I felt bad

Wanda: Anyways... yay girls! Who wants me to paint their nails?

Peter: ME ME ME

-

Steve: Pancakes or waffles?

Natasha: Pancakes

Steve: Good because I don't have a waffle maker

Natasha: Then why would you ask-

Steve: It's important for your voice to be heard, as team leader I value your opinion

*2 minutes later*

Steve: Good morning Clint, pancakes or waffles?

Clint: Waffles

Steve: Oh no.

-

Some of these were based on requests (ex. more Sam & Bucky, dad Steve w/ Wanda) so if you have certain dynamics you enjoy let me know !

[dangopango00]

GIVE HIM SOME ATTENTION

What does he do when he wants some attention?

BLLK x S/O!GN Reader

Characters: Isagi, Bachira, Chigiri, Kunigami (Pre&Post WC), Gagamaru, Rin, Nanase, Sae, Shidou, Barou, Sendou, Nagi, Reo, Oliver, Otoya, Karasu, Yukimiya, Hiori, Kurona, Zantetsu, Raichi, Aryu, Kiyora, Kaiser, Ness (In that order)

CW: Suggestive as hell in Aiku & Otoya’s parts, A little angsty in Shidou, Reo & Ness parts

A/N: Idk all of them toooooo well but they’re all interesting to me so I’d like to try also I excluded some people who are irrelevant in my mindscape (i'm so sorry) (Nagi is honestly lucky to be here with the flopism he has been displaying smh) Gagamaru my goat ntm on him also added Zantetsu in honor of him finally getting his cover art

HCS UTC

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Yoichi Isagi

I think if he’s craving attention he’d probably be a bit hesitant because it's embarrassing for him to ask (since he likes a lot of attention so he’d be asking all day LOL). In order to save himself the embarrassment he’ll usually just hold your hand and give you a serious look– if he can muster that (sometimes if he’s feeling shy he’ll just put his hand on yours while looking away). Well when he does look at you he thinks he’s giving you a serious look but surely all you see is him giving you puppy eyes.

Meguru Bachira

Oh if he’s craving attention YOU WILL KNOW. He’d probably cling to you as if you were a missing part of his body he was trying to reconnect. He’ll hug your arm or pepper you in kisses and he’ll seem way happier than usual because he’s just so glad to be around you. He’s a bit ridonkulous he might even jump on you, making you both collapse to the floor, or if you’re in a place with a hard floor he’ll instead pull you towards him and squeeze you like a giant teddy bear.

Hyoma Chigiri

He’s a bit tricky honestly. He has a good amount of pride so he doesn’t like to seem too clingy but that doesn’t mean he’ll back down if he feels like he’s being neglected. If he wants attention he’ll try to make you the one who’s embarrassed and craving attention by flirting subtly though incessantly. He’ll wrap his arm around you and lightly ghost his thumb over your skin or even ‘innocently’ kiss your jawline and then just as quickly as he started, he’ll stop and go back to whatever he was doing before so you’re the one asking for attention from him now.

Rensuke Kunigami (PRE Wild Card)

Honestly? Upstanding young man ass dude he’ll probably just start giving you attention until you reciprocate. He’s stubborn too so you know he won’t stop until you give in unless you’re seriously not in the mood for whatever reason. He’ll sneak up behind you and hug you and start kissing up your neck; eventually turn your head so he can kiss you on the lips if you’re willing to indulge him. The kind of guy who’d just lay up in your arms and gently lay you down with him after a long day.

Rensuke Kunigami (POST WC)

Ok I know he SEEMS insanely different but tbh I don’t think he’d change all that much. He’s probably a little bit more socially awkward because for a while all he’s done is train with little social interaction. When he wants attention, I think he’d likely use the same tactic but in a different way. He’d probably nip your neck or shoulder (not painfully; he is trying to be playful) and when it gets your attention, he’d start to pepper you in kisses or lay his head down on your shoulder if it's been a long day.

Gin Gagamaru

I don’t have a great grasp on this guy (despite being one of my goats 🥹) but I think he’d probably have like mannerisms for it like pointing at where he wants to be kissed and kisses you back when you oblige him. He also seems like the kind of guy who’d bring you something from his journeys in the wilderness as like a homemade gift and hopes you’ll give him the attention he seeks in return (you can definitely tell because he just stares at you as you open the gift, hoping you like it and then continues to stare expectantly when you do like it)

Rin Itoshi

Imo if Rin decided to get into a relationship with someone he’d dedicate himself to them just as he does soccer because he wouldn’t want them to be hurt the way he was hurt (someone you love acting coldly towards you) but he doesn’t really know how without cringing. SO his way of asking for attention would be somewhat sweet although awkward. I think he would likely try to do some semi romantic gesture like laying his head on your shoulder/in your lap (although he’s pretty tense) or just making general contact like touching knees or brushing fingers together and will absolutely WHIP his head away if you look at him.

Nijiro Nanase

Nanase is just a guy; another upstanding young man. I think he would probably flatter you if he wanted attention. He’ll probably start talking about the things he likes about you and how much he loves you, giving you a kiss on the cheek along with his praise as well. He is very aware of the fact that you think he’s the cutest thing to hit planet Earth and he will use it to his advantage!! Of course, he means what he says but if saying it out loud will get him covered in kisses he’ll say as much as you want because he’s never gonna run out of things to say.

Sae Itoshi

This guy… Is a real piece of work but, like his brother, I think if he’s willing to get into a relationship then that means he's willing to put in the effort but doesn’t know how, although he respects you a ton. If he’s craving attention I don’t think he’ll even realize it; he’ll just get really irritated when you aren’t around and when you are around he’ll stare you down so hard he could burn a hole through you but the fact that he doesn’t even look angry is what tips you off to what he wants. The look in his eyes isn’t insanely soft but it's not a hard stare either, he looks like he's daydreaming or zoning out tbh.

Ryusei Shidou

If Sae is a piece of work this dude is a whole project. It’s easy to say he’s like Bachira, which he is during the day, but I think it’d be more interesting to talk about him during the night. When the day comes to an end he said he “becomes nothing” so I think it would be the number one time where he craves attention and validation that he exists and you’re really there. It’s a somewhat vulnerable time for him but he plays it off like he’s just his usual clingy self and probably places himself in front of you at any opportunity. Looking down? He’ll lay on your lap. Facing forward? Well here he is in front of you. And by the time it’s finally time for bed he's completely wrapped his body around yours.

Shoei Barou

It’s kind of hard to imagine how he’d show affection in a relationship buttt I think similar to Kunigami, I think he would just give you attention until you give in. However, I think Barou is probably a bit more aggressive about it and he’d probably go up to you and kiss you, then pull away just enough to await your next move. If you take too long to decide though he’ll start kissing around your face: on your nose, your forehead, etc. He’s pretty bold but he is a tiny bit embarrassed/hesitant when it comes to feeling ‘soft’ with you so he’ll kiss you to distract himself from it.

Shuto Sendou

This guy is peak loserboy activity whew he is a huge sucker for being spoiled so he wants attention OFTEN. I think he probably just stands really close to you and complains about how his day was soooooo horrible and how he worked so hard but if being standoffish isn’t working he holds onto your waist for dear life or plops himself on your lap and hugs you, waiting for attention when he gets desperate. If he’s super desperate he’ll start kissing around your neck and complain even more. He even starts to say how betrayed he feels at how easily you’re ignoring his woes.

Seishiro Nagi

He’s pretty efficient in the way he shows he wants attention. Since he’s the spoiled type he’ll usually try to get your attention the normal way first: acting cute and laying his head on your shoulder or on your lap while he plays his game (he is expecting you to play with his hair) but if you don’t he’ll honestly be confused at first because he’s usually given whatever he wants. At first he’ll try to put your hand on his head but if you keep taking it away he’ll make you lay down with him and literally try to immobilize you by putting all his weight on your body; will even pretend to be asleep if you protest.

Reo Mikage

He’s a lot bit codependent so if he’s feeling neglected he’ll do everything he can to get your attention. He’ll usually shower you in gifts and/or take you on a romantic date. He’ll plan out a whole ass day of pampering just because he wants some attention. Please remind him he doesn’t need to do. All that. Because he often feels a bit useless if he doesn’t have time to do that. Not only does he feel useless but he’s somehow convinced himself subconsciously that he doesn’t really deserve your attention if he hasn’t done anything for you.

Oliver Aiku

If he wants attention from you, he’ll give you an insane amount of attention. Unlike Kunigami and Barou, he’s very forward and will text you, showering you with sweet words while he’s on his way to yours and when he gets there, he’s practically already all over you. He’s going on about how much he loves you and how he missed you so much all while kissing you wherever he can reach you. Tbh if he's craving attention, he probably just wants to have sex since he’s not a very clingy guy so he's probably already backing you into a wall and trying to undress you.

Eita Otoya

Honestly his appeal to others is usually him being the “cold but caring” type so, like Aiku, he’d probably text you before getting to yours but it’d be even more bare bones like, “i miss you” or “can I see u” even if he DOES genuinely like you he doesn’t really think deeply about his feelings and impulsively texts you when he wants attention. Unlike Aiku, he is a clingy guy and if he’s really desperate for attention he’ll still escalate it to sex if he can; just slower. Probably wants to lay his face in your chest or lap and makeout.

Tabito Karasu

Oh this smartass. He’s probably similar to Hyoma in the fact that he makes sure it's you who wants his attention by pampering you one minute and acting like nothing happened the next. However he does tend to like smart people so if you’re smart enough to see through his hot-and-cold act he’ll eventually hold you and hide his face in your chest, admitting defeat but he’d still be smiling because either way he wins. He’s already got you and he won't let go until you fill the quota of kisses you owe him.

Kenyu Yukimiya

He’s the type to feel a bit embarrassed about wanting attention at first but will be more forward if you don’t pick up on his subtle hints. His hints include sneaking glances at you or holding your hand whenever he gets the opportunity. He’s honestly pretty charismatic so I think that when being more forward he would probably kiss your hand and help you with anything you may need to get done or finish anything he may need to do so that you can completely focus on each other when there’s nothing left.

Yo Hiori

Honestly craving attention is a somewhat rare occurrence for him so it's a bit embarrassing, especially since you two are used to kinda doing your own thing. Probably gives you little ‘hints’ like starting off by asking if you want to play a game with him as an excuse to get you close to him. Another hint would likely be him invading your bubble whether it be by scooting close to you or hooking his leg over yours a bit or whatever it may be. If you still aren’t getting it he probably says something that tips you off while looking directly at you or glancing at you like, “Do you mind me being clingy?” or something along those lines.

Ranze Kurona

He’s such a sweetie he probably braids your hair if it's long enough (if it’s short he’ll still try a root braid if you want but he’s not very good at it). If not he’ll usually get you both stickers to mess around with, putting some on your face, others on various items and sometimes you put them in random hidden places as a nice surprise when you find them again. Typically this is enough to get the attention he’s looking for, but if you’re teasing him or simply forgot, he’ll lightly nip your shoulder or lightly graze his teeth over your shoulder (Since you two got together you have definitely encouraged him to be comfortable with his teeth around you)

Zantetsu Tsurugi

This guy often tries to be something he’s not so he’d probably try to do a bunch of romantic gestures that aren’t his style. Knowing him he’d probably put together some poems. They aren’t very good but it IS very sweet and he’d keep doing this for a while until the poems start to sound the same and he starts to get frustrated. He’d try learning an instrument, impressing you with his knowledge on a subject you like etc. until eventually he would just force himself to suck it up and ask you for attention outright and just straight up admit how much you mean to him because all these other things are draining and they aren’t him.

Jingo Raichi

He’s another guy who finds it a bit embarrassing to be ‘soft’ so when craving attention he’ll often ‘starve’ himself of it. Usually you’re the one who has to give him attention but if you haven’t for whatever reason then he’ll be angrier than usual that day with his teammates. He’ll probably give up by the time he gets home and just crashes into you grumbling about how his day has been SO unsexy. Probably won’t let you go until he falls asleep tbh and even then he still has a pretty good grip on you.

Jyubei Aryu

When he wants attention Aryu would probably start flaunting his beauty, pushing his hair back, striking poses, modeling clothes for you, whatever stylish thing he can think of– he will do it and then glance over at you to make sure you were paying attention. If that doesn’t work then he’d have you do some stylish things like he might have you try on some clothes he bought you or ask you to style his hair because he is “lacking inspiration” (He actually just knows you like playing with his hair smh)

Jin Kiyora

This dude is a freak, it's a lot bit funny. When he wants attention he probably asks you to watch a movie with him (You’re already suspicious that he didn’t put on Fight Club for the umpteenth time or another action movie). He honestly put it on as background noise and thought it looked boring so he’d probably just tell you to lay down with him and lightly kiss you until you get the picture (Spoil him). Can and WILL turn the movie off and hide the remote if you neglect him smh (He will not enjoy the returned energy next time he wants to watch fight club so for both of your sakes just give him some kisses).

Michael Kaiser

Complicated individual, rightfully so. If he wants attention he’d simply demand it. Bye. He would likely just pull you towards him without any further commentary, he might even look a bit annoyed. If you didn’t know him you’d think he was in a bad mood and upset with you but you know how he gets. However, he’s more clear when it’s been a long day and he’s feeling a bit beat down or unsure of himself. He’d just shove his face into your back or your midsection and let you play with his hair as he conks theee fuck out.

Alexis Ness

Another complicated individual whew. What is up with these codependent purple dudes who found the worst possible person to depend on? Ness has yet to find a relationship where he is properly loved and not essentially abandoned so if he feels like you’re slipping away he’ll panic and do everything in his power to convince you to keep him around. He needs a lot of reassurance tbh and spends a lot of his time in your arms. When he’s craving attention he’ll usually just be sulking around all day like a sad wet cat. Every now and again he turns to look at you wistfully and walks past very slowly like that damn homeless ant. Show him some love he needs it now more than ever ayayayay.

[tiramissyoucake]

Escape attempt gone wrong (not clickbait)(my husband gets pissed?!?!)

Viltrumite Mark x fem reader, forced marriage, the whole shabang, I know nothing about Viltrum♡ word vomitted, lame fade to black scene because idk how to end this

You see a few ships zip by your windows on some days, you know they don't need ships, so a lot of them were dormant in landing zones.

"What're you thinking about?" Your husband's hands snaked onto your shoulders as his voice reached your ear, a small smile on his face.

"... nothing, I'm just wondering why you have ships since Viltrumites can fly." You noted, Mark hummed. "... honestly? I can't tell you either, maybe it's for longer journeys or cargo." He kissed your cheek gently. "Why? Planning to take one on a joy ride?"

The idea was tempting. "Don't be ridiculous," you scoffed. "I can't fly those."

Later that night, a formal meeting between a few powerful Viltrumites you didn't care about busied Mark and a majority of your guards have turned in for the night, you were left to your own devices in a big bedroom stockpiled with gifts from every corner of the galaxy.

You tossed and turned, sleeping early didn't help. You were restless, you've been restless since you've been demanded to remain in one building and one building only. It infuriated you, your supposed husband most likely saw you as a reward for decimating a planet and not a living being with autonomy.

You sat up, glancing aside to the empty space next to you. He had some nerve, locking you up then leaving to play emperor like this, anywhere else in the galaxy would be better now.

... 'anywhere else' wasn't impossible.

. . .

"You need to mind your manners," Nolan scolded as Mark left the room the 'conference' was held in. "I know you're doing a good job in power, but that doesn't mean you can disrespect your seniors."

"I don't respect those who don't respect me." Mark spoke, his tone grated through gritted teeth. "All I want to do is get this stupid cape off me and see my wife."

Nolan restrained an eye roll, the human pet. "You're too attached to that human, what do you see in her anyway?"

"Everything. She's kind, interesting, she sees me beyond my strength, it's like..." he let out a sigh, holding back a shiver from showing, the sigh almost sounded lovesick. "It's like she sees right through me to my core, sees me for who I am, not what I am."

Gag. His father ignored the romance ramble. "You'll learn to see her as a tool for the good of the empire."

Mark rolled his eyes, parting ways at a hallway. "I'm going to bed, I neglected her enough." He didn't wait for a 'goodnight' or any last comments from his father as he left.

The grand doors to the bedroom creaked open, nothing changed. Your body under the sheets, gifts untouched and floors clean, he let out a sigh of relief as he threw aside the cape, loosening the collar of his clothes. "Are you awake?" His voice was soft compared to the usual commanding tone. "I missed you, dear.."

He came to his side of the bed. "I've been waiting to—"

Pillows. Not your peaceful sleeping figure. A stack of pillows. Confusion flooded his head as he got up.

"... oh, oh! Haha! very funny, love." He looked around. "You can come out now!" He waited for a beat, eyes glancing around for any movement.

None, nothing, not even a shuffle. Panic tingled at his fingertips, as he tugged the sheets off the bed, rapidly looking under the bed his eyes darted around the room. His heart raced, looking in any and every compartment that you could possibly squeeze into.

The room grew into a mess but he couldn't care less, sweat coated his forehead from the frenzy of pure panic. "You're not here." He finally admitted to himself, his heart pounding.

Silently cursing the meeting in his head, he sped off to collect whoever he can from guards or staff to form a search party, you couldn't have gone far. Humans were weak, vulnerable, he'll find you. He'll find you. He'll find you.

. . .

You held the cloak you found in the back of the closet close to your chest, you didn't know if Viltrumites recognised you but you wouldn't risk it, but your feet hurt as you ran through the unfamiliar structures.

The hallways were empty, the doors were loose. It was a miracle. You got a chance to leave this nightmare of a marriage, you had no clear idea on where you'd be headed, but you heard stories of galaxy nomads and travellers making ends meet and surviving! You're a smart person, you've got common sense. How hard could it be..?

The landing zone. You just needed to get to the landing zone.

A gasp escaped you, you heard a few barks of commands. "Spread out! She couldn't have gone far!"

You needed to get to that landing zone.

Keep low, keep hidden. You repeated that in your head as you ran, you thought you'd never get there or that you may have gotten lost, then the landing zone came into view, you saw a few ships and suddenly, hope seemed within your reach.

The search party seemed too focused on the buildings and structures, you thanked whatever architect decided to put that place outside of populated areas, the shouting dwindled, turning more distant as you got closer.

You tossed the hood off seeing a few Viltrumites guarding a gate, spotting you as you closed in, they grew confused. "Your imperial majesty? What happ—"

"Open the gates!!" For the first time, you commanded them. "Open them, now!!"

They had no choice but to listen, the gates opened and your heart almost pounded out of your chest. The ships lined up and their states were clear, maintenence, maintenence, offline, maintenence, offline, reserved, offline, reserved.

Finally, 'Ready'.

You could hear the shouting return, but you didn't care, the ship took you in so easily and you could see a new life for yourself outside of this miserable planet, now you just need to learn how to get the controls to listen to you.

It was quiet inside the ship, save for the rapid button clicking and switch flicking from you, everything was coming to life in the ship's mechanics, you held onto the yoke of the ship as you saw the landscape shift, it would levitate off the ground soon.

. . .

He saw it in the distance, hovering high over the empire he saw a ship start to levitate, he knew about every ship, item and living being that entered and left Viltrum.

"No. No. Nononono." His body moved, launching him to the landing zone area with his fists clenched ready to tear through metal.

Mark mumbled to himself as he closed the distance quickly, angered at your audacity to try to escape him.

. . .

Freedom was on the horizon, you were out of here, out of this nightmare. Your hands readjusted repeatedly on the yolk as the ship moved.

A booming sound caused you to whip your head to the back of the ship, your heart dropped seeing an indent in the metal.

"I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE!" You never heard Mark's voice reach that level of volume, the pounding continued. "COME OUT!"

You stood your ground, even as the fear of what he might do if he gets you caused your hands to tremble and your heart to race quickly, you repeatedly tapped a few buttons, didn't this stupid ship have thrusters or whatever?!

An alarm blared, one meant to let a pilot know the ship wouldn't listen, you had a feeling it had to do with more rumbling from below, curse his monstrous strength, you heard a piercing noise, followed by a grating, screeching noise. He was peeling the metal with his bare hands.

"You'd rather DIE in the cold of the galaxy? You despise me to THAT extent?!" He screeched at the top of his lungs, the ship sparking after he destroyed its engine from the outside and it's structure being torn apart.

Your hands rapidly tried to find any button that could reverse or override the damage. "Please," you mumbled as if the ship could hear you. "Please work, please! I can't stay here..!"

"(NAME)!! TURN THIS SHIP OFF!! NOW!!"

His yelling scared you, you gripped a lever and before you knew it, a flury of sparks flew from the control panel, so powerful it almost knocked you out, but the ship being pummeled back to the ground beat the sparks to it, the tilt of the ship causing you to fall out the pilot's chair and hit your head on the way down to the ship's floor.

Your head hurts, your heart hurts, are you going to die on this ship? You didn't want to succumb to the pounding in your head, you were scared you'd wake up chained or worse. A burning sensation collected at the point of impact on your head.

The ship was useless now, Mark made sure of it, the engine being destroyed in an instant, tugging the metal back until there was enough of an opening for him to slip through, he bent his head down to enter the ship. its lights flickering off, he looked up with a piercing glare, a scowl on his lips and eyebrows furrowed, his knuckles were reddened from the sheer force of his strikes against the metal.

It was quiet for a moment as he watched the consciousness slip away from you, his footsteps that approached you quiet compared to the powerful banging of his fists from seconds ago.

"You've got some nerve." He started, a look of anger, sadness, frustration and heartbreak in his eyes. "You think it's that easy, don't you?"

Black spots formed in your vision, your expression was one he couldn't dissect, it pissed him off more, and he knew he'd still take care of that bump on your head after bringing you back home.

It doesn't matter, he'd indulge in his win for now and seethe about the insolence after. And right when he thought you were becoming more obedient too.

"I'm not letting you go." Mark stated to make the situation clear to your fuzzy state of mind, "Not now. Not ever. I'll make sure of it."