#I’m so obsessed with them being brothers

[wishchip106]

imagine what the xmen would be like if charles and erik were human

i’m imagining more movie version of xmen with this

if we look at first class moira did originally reach out to charles because he’s a genetics professor and not a mutant

when charles was doing his presentation at the CIA they were not convinced until he and raven showed their mutations

honestly don’t know how raven managed to tag along maybe charles convinced everyone she could come

but like without his telepathy he probably gets rejected and he likely leaves with raven

now erik was only taken in by shaw because he bended the gate so we just got to hope he survived the ‘average’ camp experience

although nothing about the holocaust is average

it could be likely he still becomes a n*zi hunter just without the advantages of his mutation

or he just tries to live his life after that insanely traumatic experience

who knows but basically its unlikely these two will ever meet unless we pull out a romance movie type meet cute thing

now onto the actual xmen starting with the first class mutants they’d likely still live their average lives in hiding (and alex in solitary confinement)

jean would likely be going through foster systems until she’s old enough to live on her own or she gets adopted but without the shields charles put in place her powers would likely take over her and she might end up causing a lot of harm to a lot of people

storm would either been in cairo still or somewhere else but if we’re focusing on the movie timelines, her power would be very minimal

she would likely grow up living on a thief’s wage until she finds something else to do with her life (i wouldn’t know what honestly)

scott would be walking around blindfolded 24/7 as he didn’t have hank to make his glasses for him. if alex continued to stay in solitary confinement he probably had no one to feel connected with

logan would still be fitting into his ‘wild animal’ thing and just moving around bar to bar trying to find something worth doing in his life

rogue would likely of died in the van explosion

a lot of the mutant kids living in the x-mansion wouldn’t have a place to call home and the majority of them would be living on the streets getting persecuted

there would be no brotherhood OR xmen to stop humans from wiping out mutants completely

sure maybe some mutants rise up to make they’re own groups but they likely don’t have the influence of a rich old white guy

crazy how much impact these guys have on the world

both with they’re influence on mutants AND their insanely dramatic romance that lives across the ages

[killerelysia]

I’m not sure if you take requests, but could I get a story featuring Hyugo x Yandere Reader, where the Reader is Sol’s sibling? MC can be a separate character. If this isn’t something you’re comfortable with, feel free to ignore it!

SHOT IN YOUR HEART- HYUGO SUGIMOTO X G.N (SIBLING!) BRUGMANSIA READER!

The kid at the back is a 18+ visual novel Minors don't interact!

Words: 1000

Genre: Yandere

Reader : G.N (Role)- Solivan Brugmansia's sibling

Summary: You helped Hyugo with a dangerous situation, but you couldn’t just walk away. You stayed close, watching him deal with the aftermath, unable to tear yourself away.

Hyugo didn’t want you involved, but you couldn’t just let him face this alone. You told him you wouldn’t let him die—that he was too important to let go. He didn’t argue, though you could see the frustration and concern in his eyes. He knows you’re delusional, but deep down, you think he doesn’t mind you being there. He may not admit it, but you’d do anything to protect him.

And even if you push him too far sometimes, even if he keeps his distance, you’ll be by his side. Always.

Trigger warnings: Violence, Obsession and unhealthy relationships, Death and murder, Emotional manipulation, Delusional behavior

EXTRA: MC is taken as separate character in this!

You were with Sol, Hyugo watching the movie with them after bunking classes!

MC ruined your date but it was fine! They just wanted to see the movie! You were glad Sol was having a great time too, Your big brother.

Mc wanted to go the restroom, so you just told them to give you a call. If they need anything

When your phone buzzed, displaying an incoming call from MC. Confused, you tapped on Sol’s arm, showing him the screen. Without a word, you both excused yourselves, and you stepped aside to take the call.

"I'm giving you one last chance, buddy,"

A gruff voice growled on the other end, followed by the sound of shuffling. The tone sent a chill down your spine. Before you could respond, the voice dropped to a whisper, and your instincts kicked in. Something wasn’t right.

Quickly, you placed the call on speaker and exchanged a tense glance with Sol. But the line fell silent, unnervingly so. Then, out of nowhere, the same voice erupted, panicked and desperate:

"He’s here! I swear! Just look around—you’ll find him here! Please don’t kill me!"

Your heart skipped a beat. That voice—wasn’t that...?

“What the fuck? That’s...” Sol’s expression turned pale. “Y/n, that voice—it’s Hyugo’s messenger!”

Before you could think, Sol was already moving. “Call Hyugo! They might be in danger! I have to—”

“Stop!” You hissed, grabbing his arm.

“Y/n—”

“Sol, you’re bad at this. Leave it to me. Just get Hyugo, okay? I’ll handle it.” Your sharp tone left no room for argument.

But Sol wasn’t having it. “You don’t get it!” he snapped. “This isn’t about you playing a —”

You cut him off with a shove, frustration boiling over. “Go! You will scare them off fucker!”

His jaw tightened, but he relented, darting off to find Hyugo. You, on the other hand, had a different plan. Your brother’s obsession with MC was worrisome, but you had your own reasons to worry. You couldn’t let this escalate—or let MC get hurt.

Despite being a theater, They were some shops, you stormed into a nearby store, snatching a baseball bat on your way out. The weight of it felt solid in your grip as you moved quickly, weaving through the mall toward the public restrooms. The call played over and over in your head, the frantic cries and threats echoing like a warning siren.

You reached the restroom, your heart racing. That’s when you saw them: a man gripping MC by the hair, pulling hard enough to make them groan in pain.

The man, still gripping MC’s hair, leaned down to pick up their phone, fumbling with it as he accidentally opened the camera. The screen lit up, switching to the selfie mode, casting an eerie glow on his face. He stared at his own reflection, confused and slightly irritated as he muttered to himself, trying to turn it off.

The moment he was distracted, you appeared behind him, silent as a shadow. Without a word, you raised the baseball bat high.

In the reflection of the phone’s screen, your figure loomed behind him, and in that split second of realization, his eyes widened. But it was too late.

CRACK!

The bat connected with the side of his head in a swift, calculated swing. He staggered, letting out a pained grunt as he lost his grip on MC and stumbled forward. Before he could recover, you delivered a vicious kick to his side, sending him crashing to the tiled floor with a dull thud.

He lay motionless, unconscious.

MC gasped, clutching their scalp where their hair had been yanked. Their wide eyes darted from the man on the ground to you, still clutching the bat, your chest heaving from adrenaline.

“You okay?” you asked, your voice firm but with an edge of concern.

MC nodded shakily, taking a step back as they tried to catch their breath. “I—yeah. I think so. But… who is he? Why was he—”

“Doesn’t matter right now,” you cut them off, your eyes flicking toward the unconscious man. “We need to get you somewhere safe first.”

Before either of you could move, footsteps echoed down and Sol appeared, followed closely by Hyugo. Sol’s eyes darted between you, MC, and the unconscious man, his expression darkening.

“Mc…” Sol started, his voice low and tense.

MC’s eyes were fixed on the splattered blood across the walls, a disturbing contrast to the stark white tiles of the restroom. Their face was pale, body trembling, and it was clear they were trying to process the scene. Hyugo, ever perceptive, quickly stepped in between them and the gruesome sight, his hands gently guiding their gaze elsewhere.

“Don’t look at that,” he said softly, his voice a comforting contrast to the tension in the air.

MC, however, was already asking, “Can we go outside? I—just need some fresh air.”

You nodded, stepping back as Sol wrapped his arm around MC, guiding them gently toward the exit. You followed closely behind, but your mind wasn’t on the mall’s exit or the situation at hand. You were focused on the man you’d knocked out. There was no time to dwell on it, but the sight of blood... it had a way of staying with you.

You all walked out, Sol gave Hyugo a look—a silent exchange that didn’t go unnoticed. Hyugo sighed and waved him off with a dismissive motion, clearly used to this routine.

You looked at him, He told you to go.

Sol started talking to MC, leading them toward the parking lot. His voice was calm, but there was a noticeable edge to it. “I’ll take you home, okay?” he said to MC. “Get some rest.”

You stood a few paces away, leaning against the wall with your arms crossed, watching them.

Sol turned his gaze to you, clearly annoyed. “Go home, Y/n. You’ve done enough.”

You scoffed, pushing off the wall. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He glanced away, rubbing his temple in frustration. His distress was palpable, and it almost amused you. “Why are you like this?” he muttered.

“Stop sniffing around like a dog on MC,” you retorted, your tone sharp. “It’s not that hard to act normal.”

Sol looked at you, his eyes narrowing, before he let out a long sigh. “You’re worse with Hyugo,” he said quietly, his frustration almost tangible.

You smirked. “The only difference is I can show the shit, Sol, Go on a date with your beloved!” you shot back, your words dripping with sarcasm.

He sighed, shaking his head. With one final look at you, he waved and turned back to MC.

You watched them for a moment, then stuck your tongue out at Sol, who wasn’t paying attention. His back was turned, but you knew he felt it.

MC, who hadn’t been paying attention to the exchange, walked up to you. They smiled faintly, still a bit shaken, but they reached out to take your hands. “Thank you,” they said softly.

You shrugged, giving a half-smile in return. “It’s fine.”

Sol was already walking ahead, his face dark and brooding, but you didn’t care. You waved at him as you turned to leave, feeling a sense of relief. The tension was still thick, but it felt easier to breathe now.

You crossed your arms, a skeptical look on your face. “So, what’s the situation, Hyugo? You shouldn’t be storming into this so lightly. I don’t think it’s that simple.”

“I agree,” Hyugo said, his voice dripping with annoyance. “What a pain in the ass.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Well, let me take care of him. Go watch the movie or something.”

Hyugo, noticing the shift in your expression, couldn't help but smirk. But it faded quickly as he observed you, now flushed and clearly embarrassed. "Don’t be delusional," he said, his usual playful tone replaced by something much colder and darker.

You shot him a glare. "What?"

“Go home,” he ordered, though he could see the defiance in your posture. He knew you better than anyone—knew that you'd probably just follow him, no matter how many times he told you to go away. You were a pain in the ass, always nagging him, but it was nothing new. Deep down, he didn’t mind it.

Hyugo wasn’t hard to figure out. He had that youthful, carefree energy, his eyes bright blue with a hint of mischief that made him easy to get along with. His round face and soft features made him look almost innocent, though his teal-colored hair, shaggy in the back with a long rat tail, hinted at his wild side.

Today, though, his usual fun-loving nature was a bit more subdued, his bubbly personality slipping away as the situation got more serious. He wore his usual black long-sleeve shirt underneath a white button-up, with a green sweater vest layered on top. His black slacks were crisp, though his shoes—like always—were unspecified. The lack of jewelry was a stark contrast to his chaotic energy.

Though Hyugo had earned the title of “Mister MIA” for his tendency to skip class, no one doubted his reliability when it came to handling things—whether it was personal or school-related. He’d become a staple at school for his ability to get things done, even if it meant being absent from his classes.

He sighed and ran a hand through his teal bangs, pushing the long side pieces out of his eyes. “I know you’re gonna stalk me anyway, but go home. I’ll handle this.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his words, even if he tried to act like he didn’t care. There was always something comforting about his presence, even in the midst of the chaos.

After helping Hyugo drag the unconscious man—the one who dared to hurt Sol’s beloved—he turned to you, his expression cold and unreadable. “Go home,” he said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument. But you knew him better than that. He didn’t just want you gone. He didn’t want you to see what was coming.

Still, you handed him the gun you had taken from the man. The weight of it was heavy, but not unfamiliar. You weren’t innocent—not by a long shot—but it didn’t mean you liked this side of things. And you knew Hyugo didn’t want you to see his side either.

The side of him that was a cold-blooded killer.

You told yourself you’d listen this time. You’d leave. But who were you kidding? Of course, you didn’t. You just couldn’t help it—you liked to watch, to know, to see. Sol’s influence ran too deep. His lessons had taught you to be sharp, to trust your instincts, and sometimes, that meant lurking in the shadows.

The blood of a Brugmansia is weird.

So, you followed Hyugo, keeping yourself hidden behind a wall. You watched as he stood over the man, his posture tense. The man had woken up and was saying too much—pleading, bargaining, running his mouth. Hyugo didn’t flinch. He simply raised the gun and pulled the trigger.

The sound echoed in the stillness, the sharp crack leaving a ringing in your ears. You didn’t flinch either.

You never really understood the full story between Hyugo and Sol, and you didn’t care to. It wasn’t your business. All you cared about was Hyugo—and you were happy, in your twisted way, to have someone like him to love. Even if it meant loving him from the shadows.

Even if it meant being a possessive freak.

After it was done, Hyugo lingered for a moment, staring down at the lifeless man. Finally, he spoke, his voice colder than you’d ever heard it. “I don’t think I’ll be around for the next few days. Sunny, you’ve done enough for me. This... is the end of our deal.”

The words hit you like a slap. You stepped back, surprised, though you quickly masked it. End of your deal? No. You wouldn’t let it end like this. You couldn’t let anything happen to him. But you didn’t move.

Lately, he’d been pushing you away, keeping you at a distance. And maybe that’s why you’d stooped to ugly actions like stalking him. Not because you wanted to invade his life, but because you wanted to keep him safe.

It wasn’t because you shared the same blood of a Brugmansia. That had nothing to do with it, right?

You were just... naggy. Clingy. Possessive. A little too much. Maybe even a little unhinged.

But you loved him...

Hyugo dragged the lifeless body toward the edge of the alley, his movements swift and calculated. You stayed hidden, your eyes trained on him, hyper-aware of every sound, every shift of movement around you. That’s when you saw it—the glint of a phone screen in the distance, someone recording from the shadows.

Your breath hitched. They were far enough away that Hyugo didn’t notice, but you did. And when they realized they’d been spotted, they bolted.

You sighed, a mix of frustration and resignation washing over you. “See? Stalking has its benefits,” you muttered to yourself, slipping out of your hiding spot. Hyugo may have his methods, but you had your own ways of keeping him safe.

You moved fast, cutting through the maze of alleys, anticipating their path. Sure enough, you caught up to them just as they turned a corner, grabbing them by the collar and shoving them back against the wall. The person—a young man, no older than a student—stared at you with wide, panicked eyes, their phone clutched tightly in their trembling hands.

“You’re not supposed to see that,” you said calmly, your voice devoid of emotion.

They stammered something unintelligible, their words choked by fear. You didn’t bother listening. Instead, you wrenched the phone from their grip, held it up for a brief moment, and then smashed it onto the ground. The device shattered with a sickening crunch under your boot, bits of glass and metal scattering across the pavement.

“I’m sorry,” you said, your tone eerily soft as you looked them in the eye. “But I can’t let you leave.”

Before they could scream, beg, or plead, you acted. Quick, precise, and merciless. Your blade found its mark, and the alley was silent once again, save for the faint drip of blood pooling beneath them.

You stared down at their lifeless body, your expression blank. The blood didn’t faze you, didn’t stir any emotion. If anything, you felt... nothing. Empty.

You knelt briefly, ensuring there were no loose ends—no evidence left behind—before standing up and brushing off your hands. For a moment, you glanced at the body, your gaze hollow.

Hyugo found you in the middle of the mess you’d left behind—blood staining your clothes, your hands, and the ground around you. You stood there with a serene smile, almost too proud of yourself. When your eyes met his, you could see the mixture of emotions flicker across his face: anger, exasperation, and something deeper—concern.

“Y/n…” he sighed, running a hand through his shaggy teal hair. His voice was low and tight, just on the edge of frustration. “I told you to go home. What the hell is this?” He gestured at the scene, the blood, the shattered phone. “You’ve made a complete mess.”

Your smile didn’t falter. “If I hadn’t been stalking you, you would’ve gotten your ass caught, Hyugo.” You crossed your arms, defiant. “I saved you! Shouldn’t you be saying thank you? Also! I'm sure Sol will just stalk them and not come home!”

He groaned, turning away from you, visibly trying to collect himself. His hands clenched into fists by his sides, but when he spoke again, there was a tremor in his voice. “You... You shouldn’t have done this.”

But even as he said it, his shoulders slumped, and his gaze softened. Worry pulled at his lips as he turned back to you, his usual sharp eyes clouded with concern. He looked serious again, and you knew exactly what he was going to say next.

You stepped closer to him, your voice dropping to a quiet, almost reverent tone. “I won’t let you die, Hyugo,” you said firmly. “You’re a Sherlock! You need to stay alive—to clean up some of this society’s filth.” Your lips curved into a soft smile, but your words carried a weight that made him hesitate.

Hyugo opened his mouth as if to argue, to tell you to leave, to go away—but the words wouldn’t come. He wanted to push you away, to tell you that you were too delusional, too much of a risk. But the thought of hurting you, even with words, made his chest tighten.

How long would he even be alive? The answer to that question felt uncertain at best. And until then… maybe it wasn’t so bad to let you stay by his side. Even if you were a little unhinged.

“Y/n,” he said firmly, his voice steady as he called your name.

You blinked, your lovesick gaze locking onto him. “What?”

He stepped closer, raising a hand to gently pat your head. The gesture was warm, almost affectionate. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “You did a good job.”

Your heart skipped, and your smile widened into something almost dreamlike. You reached out, taking his hand in yours, your grip firm but trembling slightly. “Did I make you proud, Hyugo?” you asked, your voice dripping with devotion as your eyes stared at him, love-drunk and lost in the moment.

He didn’t answer immediately, just looked at you for a long moment, his expression caught between guilt and acceptance. Finally, he sighed and gave your hand a small squeeze, a wordless acknowledgment.

Your smile only grew, your eyes shining with that lovesick gleam that Hyugo had come to know too well. “You’re proud of me, aren’t you, Hyugo?” you asked, tilting your head, your fingers lacing tighter around his hand. “I’m not just a bother, right? I’m useful to you. You need me, don’t you?”

He sighed quietly, his other hand raising to gently pat your cheek, his touch firm but nonchalant. He didn’t answer—he never did when you got like this. He’d learned long ago that indulging your delusions only made things worse. Silence was safer, even if it meant enduring your relentless questions.

“Say it, Hyugo,” you pressed, leaning into his hand like a cat seeking affection. “Say you’re glad I’m here. That I make your life better.” Your voice wavered, an odd mix of desperation and triumph, as if you were savoring the moment even as you chased more.

Hyugo’s expression didn’t change, his gaze steady and unreadable. He knew better than to react, knew this was just part of your... routine. God knows how long he’d been putting up with this, how long he’d let himself be dragged into your obsessive little world. But he didn’t pull away either. Not yet.

“You don’t have to say it,” you said with a soft laugh, shifting to hold his wrist, keeping his hand against your cheek. “I already know. You’re glad I’m here. You’d be lost without me.”

His jaw tightened, but he still said nothing. His silence wasn’t agreement—it was survival. He’d perfected this strategy over time, knowing that anything he said could—and would—be twisted in your mind into the answer you wanted to hear.

“You trust me, right?” you continued, your voice almost teasing now, as if you were testing him. “You’d let me protect you again, wouldn’t you? Because I love you, Hyugo. I’d do anything for you. And you love me too, don’t you?”

His hand stilled for a moment, resting against your cheek. He didn’t pull away, didn’t sigh this time, didn’t do anything to acknowledge your words. He just waited, calm and collected, his patience stretched thin but still holding.

Your smile softened, and you pressed your cheek harder against his hand. “You don’t have to say it,” you whispered, closing your eyes briefly. “I already know.”

Hyugo let out a slow breath, his mind a storm of thoughts he’d never share aloud. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep this up, how long he could keep himself tethered to this strange, all-consuming connection you’d forced between you. But for now, he didn’t pull his hand away.

“Let’s go, We need to clean.” he finally said, his voice even, cutting through your reverie. It wasn’t an answer to your questions—he wouldn’t give you that—but it was enough to guide you away from this moment before it spiraled further.

You smiled again, stepping closer to him. “Okay, Hyugo,” you said softly, as if the conversation had ended exactly the way you wanted it to. “I’ll follow you anywhere. Even in hell!"

Hyugo does hate naggy people.

Maybe not you tho.

[ghostymarni]

didn’t want to grief post on this thread, so just venting here for my own piece of mind

digital holonet entry 112824 0714hours

I’ve been on and off coping as grief does, but after seeing that post about not thinking too long about crosshair just reminded me how much I’ve kinda been avoiding drawing him.

I know I recently had a similar conversation with Lupe about this. He will always be favorite overall, but my vision for cross has artistically changed so many times because I think deep down it’s a grief truth for me that I’m struggling with. I have so many crosshair drawings I never posted because they’re just SAD. I didn’t want to turn this to a depression blog so I refrained from posting or deleted those from here.

My husband passed this summer more suddenly than I’d like to think about. He was watching season 3 without me because I was too busy with work at the time. But rewatching it after he passed had me instant hone in on crosshair + connecting the loss of my husband with the loss of tech; which gave a different part in my grief acceptance + a secondary obsession with the brilliant minded clone. It’s a reminder to hold onto everything we created and did, + to always keep thinking about him.

Crosshair returning with his brothers + not having tech there feels twice as suffering knowing what their last interaction was like. And an even deeper personal meaning knowing I see my husband in everything. In our life around us, in how I choose things, how I respond to things. (Which we see + are reminded of that tech is apart of everyone he ever met)

Self regret that we didn’t have time to have a proper last moment. It just ended. Just because you choose to accept they knew you loved them, + vise versa, doesn’t make it easier than you’ll never have them around anymore.

Which with grief, digs the vibro-blade a little deeper because you never know when your last interaction with someone is.

watching how each of them take the notion of what tech would do, picking up where he would take over. I would imagine it would catch crosshair off guard, hearing tinkering to certain data pad beeps, only to look up + see Echo fixing something, or Omega typing away. Because I literally do this with sounds I associate with my late husband.

That feeling never goes away for a loved one. His brother, his batch twin. But omega is a huge part of that healing. And she has been a huge part in mine connecting her with my kid who isn’t giving up on me + needs me. Simple intended motions go such a long way. And the scene were they’re meditating hits hard for me.

Even more so when I’m constantly shaking out my own hand to keep it under control. It’s never easy when it hits, but every scene of cross trying to get his tremors under control, is something I do more often than I care to admit. I just have to keep going.

Not seeing tech with omega, is like realizing I won’t ever see my husband with our son growing up. He’s young, + it feels more unfair. And that hurts. Crosshair is such a dynamic clone + his guilt + hurt reaches out to many people in so many different ways. Which is why I can’t think too long about him either, but he will always be my favorite overall because I see him as me.

From grief, trauma, hand tremors, loss. (if I’m being honest, I’m pretty decent at shooting actual long range rifles) there’s so much to crosshair I personally relate to, and not just his attitude haha!

Crosshair didn’t see his brother fall, but he watched another brother die in his place. An older brother that taught him a lesson he didn’t realize he needed to know until it was too late. We confirmed that from his retaliation of shooting an imperial officer, + when they returned to the deserted base; he instantly moves to set up the memorial buckets as Mayday did. A reminder of the fallen, a reminder that they existed + lived.

A lesson I have to remind myself everyday.

So what I guess I’m also trying to convey, while I see myself as crosshair, despite the grief, the false fight some days, I’ve never felt so alone than having my soulmate gone. Going from a life of fun, banter, + life for granted, to solitude and what feels like isolation.

the clone community really gave me a second chance. At me. At reconnecting with myself, my art, my humor + wit. The friendships I’ve made + are continue to make really are giving me a new fight and a new reason to just keep going.

I never share for sympathy, I don’t want to be put in a “do not interact zone”. That’s the opposite of what I need or want. I just wear my heart on my sleeve + find comfort in just being honest about struggles + how we strive to move on.

as our boy hardcase (+ echo) quote, what I try to embrace:

“LIVE TO FIGHT ANOTHER DAY”

[gothamite-rambler]

Aftermath of Nightwing's Fear Toxin Freak-Out

Dick Grayson sat outside on the patio, staring down at the table and tapping his finger as he mulled over the events from last night. Tim Drake, his younger brother, sat next to him with a teacup, keeping him company even though Dick had remained silent for the last hour.

Dick (dejected): I really hate Scarecrow.

Tim (nodding in agreement): Mm-hm, the guy loves to make people miserable. He has a habit of making his fear toxin even more “powerful.” Like Cell from Dragon Ball. Honestly, I’m still concerned about the fact that he respects me.

Dick shrugged, avoiding eye contact with his younger brother.

Dick (deadpan): You walked through his toxin once without batting an eye.

Tim: True, but I was spiraling and sunk into the darkest pit of my own mind during that time, guess it has no affect on you at that point.

Dick hummed softly, wanting to agree, but guilt washed over him from how he had acted last night. Tim smiled gently and leaned closer to his brother.

Tim: This isn’t about me, though. How are you doing?

Dick (insincere): Fine.

Tim: You sure?

Dick (wanting to avoid bringing up that painful memory): I... don’t want to talk about it.

Just then, Jason walked outside and plopped down in the empty chair at the table. He sighed, completely exhausted, then bent forward to rest his head in his hands. Tim chuckled, causing Jason to glance at him with annoyance, but he opted to stare at his legs instead of retaliating.

Tim: What’s got you down? You weren’t hit with the fear toxin.

Jason (rubbing his forehead, frustration evident): Last night was insane either way. So many people freaking out, children crying. I found out what happened with Dick, and now I can't do anything about Catalina because Bruce thinks I’m overreacting. It’s some bullshit, man.

Tim glanced at Dick, whose jaw was clenched as he struggled to suppress a smile.

Tim (with a knowing look): That was a crazy revelation, wasn’t it? I’ve known about it for years, and I had the same reaction. Barbara wanted to run over the demon woman with her car, but Dick always told us she wasn't worth it and that he wanted nothing to do with her.

Jason sat up, finally leaning back in his chair.

Jason (grinning a little): That'd be too quick a death. Oh, wait, um... you probably don’t want me talking about this.

Jason looked over at Dick, who rubbed his eyes, forcing a chuckle to reassure the two that he was on the mend.

Dick (sitting up straight, serious but composed): I’ve had plenty of violent, intrusive thoughts about Catalina, but I always argue that it’s something I’d regret. If I killed her, back then or now, she’d win. She wanted her horrible essence stuck to me, no matter what. I’m the kind of guy who doesn’t care about her. At the end of the day, she’s pathetic. A monster like her isn't worth obsessing over.

Jason nodded, a small smile creeping onto his face.

Jason (prying): But if she died randomly, you wouldn’t mind? You can be honest. Bruce isn't here.

Dick (with a morbid grin): I mean, I wouldn’t throw a party, but I wouldn’t exactly be upset either. Party poppers would probably be involved. That sounds awful, doesn’t it?

Jason (laughing, shaking his head): I’d gladly piss on Joker’s grave, dude. You’re being too nice.

Tim (thoughtful, with a hint of dark humor): I’d burn the bodies of the people who killed my parents and then toss the ashes into a pit of Joker toxin or something. Wait—that might reanimate them into even worse zombies. I stand by the first part, though.

Jason burst into laughter, patting Dick on the back. Dick shook his head with a smile, swiping his hand across his left eye to catch any stray tears.

Dick: Thanks for stopping me from making a big mistake last night and for putting up with my terrible singing.

Jason (grinning): I’m just glad I could save you. Plus, your singing wasn’t that bad—just a little pitchy.

Dick (pretending to be offended): That’s a lie—and you know it. I have perfect pitch!

Jason (smirking): Whatever you say, bud.

Tim (perking up with excitement): We should hit a karaoke bar tonight! Or wait—how about a rage room?

Jason (nodding eagerly): That sounds like a party! We can break random stuff for an hour. Let’s put pictures of our enemies on the stuff we destroy.

Dick (chuckling, shaking his head): You guys are insane, I swear. But I’m not against the rage room idea—Tim says they're really fun.

Jason: He can thank me for that.

Tim (smirking, feigning innocence): Okay, he took me there, but I was depressed at the time. When I went afterward, it was because I wanted to keep going!

Jason (laughing, pointing at Tim): Oh God, you can’t take credit for the stress relief I showed you! I’m practically a therapist, and you can’t even acknowledge that!

Tim stood up, crossing his arms dramatically, wearing a mock-serious expression.

Tim: They know my name there. Doesn’t that mean something?

Jason (mockingly, standing up as well): It means you go there way too much.

Tim (defensively): I can’t help it if I have a lot of stress to relieve!

The brothers bickered playfully, their banter lightening the mood. Dick watched them with amusement, grateful for the loving chaos that was his family. Before either could ask if he wanted to join, he stood up and followed them back inside.

Dick wasn’t okay after last night. He knew he would never fully be fine with what Catalina put him through. But with his family by his side—and the therapy that had helped him before—he felt a flicker of hope.

Tarantula wouldn’t be what broke Dick Grayson. Letting go of the past was hard, especially after what she had done. But Dick knew he had to keep fighting, to keep being a hero despite the shadows hanging over him.

For his family.

For himself.

"I'm a poison... I couldn't save them," Nightwing cried, the fear toxin invading his mind.

[frogaroundandfindout]

Tim: you’re really on your own here. I couldn’t handle that.

Dick: sure you could.

Tim: No, I couldn’t. We’re not the same kind of Robin.

Dick: what’s that mean?

Tim: you’re a natural athlete. I have to work at that. I mean it’s like you’re at home 10 stories over the street.

Dick: you’re more cerebral. You’re better at the computer stuff.

Tim: he’s got Oracle for that. And I’d trade my computer literacy for your street smarts in a hot minute. And I’m not half the detective you are.

Dick: funny. In a lot of ways, I think you’re the better partner for him. I was always a little impulsive; impatient. You complement him more.

Tim: yeah but that was later. after you’d been on your own a bit. You’re forgetting the early days. You guys were like—

Dick: “A well oiled machine”

Tim: yeah. Besides, all I ever wanted to be is his partner.

Dick: hey I volunteered for the “robin thing” too.

Tim: no, he invited you. I invited myself.

Dick: are you saying I didn’t want to be Robin as bad as you do?

Tim: you wanted to be a hero. I’m happy being Robin. You left the cave and became Nightwing.

Dick: so?

Tim: That’s not me. I don’t plan on taking over for him someday. I won’t be out there on the rooftops ten years from now. I do my shift as Robin and then go back to my “normal life.” That’s why there’s always friction between you two these days.

Dick: why?

Tim: you’re different. But you’re also way more alike than you’ll ever admit. Either of you.

Dick: Hmmm. got it all figured out, huh?

Nightwing Vol. 2 #6

[rystiel]

shipping chart thoughts

(billford always happens and they always break up. ford was obsessed when bill was his muse, then bill is obsessed after they’re no longer together and he realizes what he lost) (this dynamic is just canon, really)

(fiddauthor is always present at some point but in one route they end up together after canon events, and in another route fidd moves on) (it’s possible that they had a thing in college but consider it “typical college experimentation” because it’s the 70s and denial is strong. they still go through canon events)

(fiddlestan only happens during the fiddlestan route. otherwise canon events stay the same and they barely actually interact with each other. in the fiddlestan route they work together in the 80s and grow old together)

(billstan isn’t really romantic but it is a one-sided obsession. bill just can’t stop obsessing over the stans… for very different reasons…) (dare i say an unrequited kismesis dynamic?)

(ford and stan are brothers. that’s it. leave them out of the shipping dynamics.)

(fiddlebill isn’t really included here but i feel like the only way this would happen is if bill was possessing ford and wanted to fuck with fidd by using his crush on ford against him) (this one’s basically only possible if it’s fiddauthor-adjacent)

[galaxostars]

“where else did he want to run to when he was scared besides right here?”

extract from a scene in Hide Your Fires by @starsworth

I am still in pieces since that hug ✌🏻

[aprylynn]

Receiptify Time!!! I was tagged by @raplinenthusiasts @epiphanytear and @sevencoloredstar to post my receipts from last month 🥰🥰🥰

Tagging @lauraperfectinsanity @summerwave @hopeinthebox @cosmicdreamgrl @cordiallyfuturedwight @lightedwindows @zerotolove to post your receiptify if you want 💗

[rigginsstreet]

When I think of the things I dragged my poor mother to during the twilight era…. She loves me fr 😂

[cantofworms]

.

[harmonizewithechoes]

It’s my middle child’s 3rd birthday today 🥺

3 years ago my partner was deployed overseas and couldn’t come home for the birth because the military didn’t want to spend so much time quarantining their soldiers. Fortunately I had help as my parents were watching my son (at the time just a month shy of 2) for a few days before my due date and we had moved across the street from my partner’s parents when we found out about the deployment. So I had his mom with me at the hospital holding up her phone while we got to have a rare video call with my partner as we welcomed our daughter into the world after a very quick labor. I then had two months with our two very little kids by myself before he came home. It was an incredibly hectic time and I’m still not quite sure how I was able to get through all of that but here we are with the sweetest little 3 year old (let’s call her C) we could have asked for 🥰

C loves to play dress up and she has specific characters she’ll play as where you can’t refer to her as her name or she’ll get mad. She’s not C she’s Dr C or Baby or Baby Kitty or Princess Bucket (this was her first character and yes she does put a bucket on her head as a crown). Her favorite game to play is hide and seek and she loves dance parties and drawing and she’s obsessed with her 1 year old sister. We love C so much and I’m so excited to see how she grows and changes and learns over this next year ❤️

[cabeswaterdrowned]

[littlebirdy0301]

it’s so weird when mental health is ur priority cause people around me will be like “yeah this last year I graduated & got an internship in my field!” or “I got a good job with benefits & moved out!” or “I’m getting married & we’re planning our next steps into family life!”

and I’m like “oh wow that’s great!! oh, what about me? Well nowadays I can leave the bathroom without needing to rush out before the flushing sound ends & I can turn lights off before fully exiting rooms! I also don’t have to apologize to god in my head when I swear, don’t have to repeat a phrase in my head when I get scared, and most of the time I don’t have to knock on wood to try & prevent things from going wrong!!”

[deadsetobsessions]

“Tim. Timmy. Ancients, kid, what are you doing?!”

Danny Phantom smacked away the instinctual terror of seeing an eight year old dangling out of a third story window.

“I gotta go take pictures of Batman and Robin! They’re out tonight!”

Danny thought that his barely healed vivisection wound might bust open from the sheer stress.

“Setting aside how you even know the patrol schedule of honest to god vigilantes, why’d you choose the window? The house is literally empty, just walk out the front door, for Ancient’s sake.”

Tim paused, a motion Danny was overwhelmingly thankful for, and blinked sheepishly.

“Um… for the aesthetic?”

Danny allowed the silence to settle between them before dropping his head into his waiting hands. Tim panicked.

“You- you can’t stop me!”

And yeah, Danny really can’t. In the months he’s been mooching off of the Drakes (not that they’ll notice), Danny’s learned that Tim Drake is nothing but relentless in the pursuit of whatever he sets his mind on. Whether thet might be putting hot chocolate in his cereal (which Danny doesn’t actually mind) or, apparently, stalking a pair of vigilantes.

He wanted to hack into the library cameras? Danny had to hover just to make sure the kid didn’t get caught after arguing for an hour about it.

He walked out of that argument with a loss, yes, but he also let Tim know that Danny cared about him. Danny also walked out of that argument with a new hatred for Janet and Jack Drake and his mind (just as diabolical as Tim’s) whirring with plans to haunt them.

Tim is never ever introducing his new little brother to Tucker. Ever.

“Okay. I don’t want to see you take unnecessary risks, but I’m also aware that I can’t really stop you. So. I’ll go with you.”

Maybe this is like… Tim’s obsession? When he put it that way, Danny lost the fight to prevent this tiny kid from what clearly is the only joy in his poor life.

“But…!” Tim’s eyes darted to Danny’s chest, the vivisection scars still fresh in his mind.

“They’re healed.” Danny pulled his dumbass little brother off the window sill, core settling as Tim follows willingly. “I’ll make us invisible and fly with you behind Batman and Robin so you can get even better shots. You can’t make any noise, though. That camera got a shutter sound, right?”

“Yeah!” Tim’s face brightened and Danny melted. He shoved a bottle of the (incredibly stinky but helpful in a pinch) ecto contaminated tap water into a backpack, along with some snacks and a blanket for when Tim gets cold. Danny’ll be fine, he’s got a Space Core. The cold his kind of his thing.

“Cool. We’ll stay out of earshot. If things starts to get too dicey, we’re heading home, okay?”

“Okay!” The look Tim shot him is full of trust and adoration and it makes Danny’s human heart squeeze painfully. “C’mon! I don’t want to be late!”

“We need to talk about your stalking tendencies later,” Danny said fondly.

“I’m not stalking them! I’m observing them!”

“Uh-huh,” Danny drawled, picking Tim up and making them intangible and invisible. “They’re not a bird observatory and also, even the birds in the observatory knows they’re being watched. Batman and Robin clearly doesn’t.”

Danny felt more than saw Tim’s pout.

He laughs as they fly just below the Gotham-brand of toxic smog. He waves to the City’s Spirit as Tim cranes his head around to catch sight of Batman and Robin.

“There!”

Danny obliged. With Danny’s flight, Tim got much better- much closer- photos than he would have originally.

Danny hung back as the pair of vigilantes swooped down to take care of a mugging.

“Wanna mess with them?” He grinned down at his little brother, canines glinting.

Tim looked up at him, admiration and mischievousness in his gaze. “Yes.”

Gotham parted her clouds in response to their glee.

——

Dick Grayson, AKA Robin, finally understood why criminals are so creeped out by him.

Other than the whole flippy child kicking grown people’s asses and winning thing, obviously (that, and Batman loomed menacingly behind him everytime a criminal even looked at Robin wrong).

Batman had picked up on it first, but the for entirety of their patrol, they kept hearing eerie little giggles and laughter. Haunting them. Never distracting. But persistent. And so creepy. He got goosebumps.

“B, I wanna go home.”

“Hm.” That’s a resounding yes if Dick’s ever heard one.

Maybe Alfred can chase away the giggles and chuckles.

Robin shudders and follows the Bat home.

——

Danny lowered the temperature as he held Tim up near Batman’s cowl so his brother could giggle menacingly. He knew for a fact that any recording device would get completely cram led by the sheer output of ambient ectoplasm he’s emitting. Plus, it freaked Robin out and raised the hairs on the back of the vigilantes’ heads. He tones it down when he noticed Tim rubbing his hands together.

He let out a quiet laugh, enjoying the flight with his brother in his arm and the light of the stars (thanks, Gotham) at his back.

——

Danny: oh, this kid’s got an Obsession, gotta let him do it safely, he’s a liminal from all that tap water

Danny: *forgets Tim isn’t a ghost nor is he from Amity and is therefore extremely breakable*

——

Danny and Tim: doing crime is a good bonding activity

Batman and Robin, who wants to say no it isn’t but they’re literally a pair of illegal vigilantes:

——

Dick as Robin: *cackles*

Tim, learning habits from stalking them: *giggles*

Gotham Criminals: *fear*

[luludeluluramblings]

Smalltown!Neglected! Meta!Reader x Yandere!Batfam ☁️ Part Seven

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Part One ☁️ Part Two ☁️ Part Three ☁️ Part Four ☁️ Part Five ☁️ Part Six ☁️ Part Eight

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: I’m not sure if I’m satisfied with this. But, I doubt I’ll ever be satisfied with this. I want Reader to come off as more Bruce like with the emotional suppression and planning. And, this was my actual first and third attempt at dialogue. I’m gonna need some practice. But, I tried.

A/N: Up next we get some yandere!Bats vs. yandere!Smalltown action. (Holy frick is that gonna be hard to write.) I’m also going to start work on the Dick Obsession now. Gotta fight the temptation to write the Vigilante!Smalltown!Reader story while this is still in the works.

Warning: Yandere Themes.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

As the coming months passed by, Reader could feel Gotham starting to wear on them. Or, they at the least Wayne manor starting to wear on them. They haven’t been given permission to leave the manor since the kidnapping. Not even to drive their truck for some unhealthy, but soul healing fast food. Of course, that doesn’t stop the other residents of the house from leaving whenever they wish. 

They see the Bat Burger wrappers in the trash the morning after another soundless night in the manor. God, how they’d love to try it one day. 

But, as time moves on something draws closer. An important date. Reader’s legal eighteenth birthday. They’re excited, by all means. But, there’s something significantly more important coming sooner. 

Reader’s Younger Brother’s Birthday was just a week before Reader’s. There had been many fond memories made while growing up with the week between the two different dates being filled with fun and excitement. (And love.) 

With such an important date coming up, and with Momma and Daddy no longer being here, Reader had plans to make it a fun week. 

They just have to convince Bruce to let them go back to Smalltown. Just for the week. They’re all too busy to spend time with Reader anyway, besides this is important to them. They’ve stayed in the manor like asked. They’re grades are good. They do their chores. They don’t ask for much. It should be perfectly reasonable to request to let them visit back home. 

But, just in case, Reader approaches Dick next time he's in the manor and is smothering them in affection before he goes to disappear into the library. 

“Can you help me convince Bruce to let me go, please, Dick?”

It’s a simple request. And, it makes Dick’s heart melt a bit. Reader’s the only one in the family to easily give into his affection and to have them finally ask him for help in such a sweet polite voice was heart melting.

Wholeheartedly, he agrees and he is rewarded. With Reader bouncing into his arms with an impressive amount of enthusiasm that he hasn’t had a chance to see previously. Probably due to always being so busy. Maybe he should make more time for Reader if they shower him with such genuine gratitude and affection like this. 

The thought lingers in his head as he makes his way towards the Batcave. A spring in his step despite the glares he receives as he makes his way down the stairs. 

The manor cameras had caught the entire thing, leaving the occupants in the cave to get a front row seat to Reader being sweet on Dick. 

He can’t stop the tiny smug smile from forming on his lips as Barbara gives him a disapproving ~~jealous~~ look. Or, the look of straight bitterness on Damian’s face. The mild satisfaction from Duke’s face being as blank as Cassandra’s. Stephanie’s forlorn expression. The way that Jason looks like he wants to shoot him with the gun he’s cleaning that makes him want to laugh with glee.. 

Tim doesn’t even look at him. Too annoyed with Dick as he sits at the Batcomputer furiously clicking and typing away on something. 

Bruce had been out at the moment for League Business. But, the entire family now has a competition forming. Whoever could convince Bruce for Reader would win. The prize being the winner possibly getting showered in Reader’s affection. And, the hope of visiting Reader’s hometown with them. The very idea of it makes some of them shudder with some particular emotions. 

The bombardment of pleading and puppy-dog eyes began almost as soon as Bruce stepped back into the cave. It was nearly comical how everyone petitioned Reader’s case. 

Hell, Bruce was nearly convinced they should all make the trip when Tim threw his bid in.

Pulling up all the research on Smalltown and how apparently harmless it was. He even managed to remotely bug Childhood Friend’s Brother’s phone just to double check. 

That’s when things spiral. 

Right at that very moment, a call comes through to the phone. It seems harmless at first. The guy talking to his boss. The two had immediately talked about Reader returning to town. As if the two knew without a doubt that they were coming back.

That sparked suspicions, but it's not what ignited the fire.

The fire came when the two started talking about Reader's time in Gotham. The whole kidnapping incident. Childhood Crush admitted that Reader tried to down play the incident to Nana. After which his boss ask a horrifying question.

"Do you and Grand Daddy need some help killing this guy? It might be a bit harder than the last one y'all killed."

The last one.

Immediately the phrase makes questions arise. But, once again things get worse.

"Nah, we'll let him live. He's from Gotham. He'll probably never come out this way. And, if he does them we'll drag him out where we drowned the last sorry son of a bitch. He was just in it for the money."

"That's right. The other guy just wanted to kill Reader to keep 'em for himself. Still..."

It was difficult to give the rest of the conversation their full attention after that.

It was like the blood had crystalized in their veins. Both cold fury and hot rage filling them till it seemed to shred their minds apart.

There was no way in heaven or hell or high water that they were possibly going to let Reader go back to that vile little town filled with monsters. As if Gotham wasn't filled with abominations of it's own designs.

Without a moment to delay Bruce Batman jumps into action, barking orders for Tim, Barbara, and Cassandra to start digging up everything imaginable on Smalltown. Every resident, every social media post or mention, every single person that has ever lived there, visited, and gone missing. "Find me the name of the bastard that nearly took my child to the grave. I want the memory of them wiped of the face of the earth as their bones rot in it."

The other's are ordered to cover his patrol and redouble their efforts to capture the remaining Gotham Rouges by any and all means necessary The Court of Owls is low priority until more is uncovered about Smalltown and what the hell happened.

Reader's usual pacing around the unoccupied halls of the manor conversing on the phone is interrupted by Bruce Batman stalking towards with a violence simmering under the surface of an obsidian mask. Easy to shatter and sharp to the touch. Before a words is even spoken the phone the lifeline is ripped from their hands and shattered under a pair of designer loafers.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

You could only stagger back as you watched his foot trample over the well used phone. You hadn't even chance to hang up the conversation you were having, when Bruce had come barreling down the extravagant hall way you roamed so often you 'd already practically memorized the brush strokes on each painting and the pattern of the wood grain on the walls. Not even the chance to put a hold on the plans you were making before it all came to an abrupt halt without your blessing.

For a moment your just baffled. Looking at the shattered phone screen with pieces of glass and plastic on the ground before looking up at the shattered facade your father Bruce wore.

His face was deathly still. Not even a twitch. It gave him an inhuman like visage that set off the same warning bells that Jason Red Hood had made you hear.

So that's where he got it from.

You can't help put think, trying to form the words to question his actions and confront him. It isn't long before he gives you the excuse explanation for his unwarranted action himself.

"You're not going." Is all he says. His voice was cold enough to burn.

It doesn't take a genius to know what he's talking about.

"If this is about me getting Dick to help convince you-"

"Dick agrees. Everyone agrees. You are not going." The interruption is rude, but the words sting. They thought that everyone else would be on board with it. Even the members of the family that didn't care for their presence should have been on board with it.

"I'm not asking for a vote. I was asking for your permission and yours alone." Another attempt.

"I am saying no. I am your father and you will listen to me about this." The totality found in his icy voice makes them finally feel that helpless. Like nothing they say will improve this situation. That continuing to smile will not solve a damn thing.

"What did I do?" The resentment that has locked up tightly inside beings to swirl. Ire churning into gales. The long withheld temper becoming a tempest. "What the hell did I do to make you treat me like this?"

"This has nothing to do with you. This is my decision on the matter. You need-" The sound of a notification going off interrupts his words, but they don't stop the ringing in you're ears. Even after Bruce abruptly dismisses himself, muttering about getting you a new phone, before moving towards the library. Again.

For once, you don't bother cleaning up the shattered pieces on the floor. Leaving them on the ornate carpet in the lavish and deserted hall. You have planning to do. Restraint is gone. Holding back is over. It's time to take things into your own hands. They want to ignore you, fine. You'll leave and you'll fucking live without them.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Consequently, incoming weather reports start showing some unusual patterns on the news that week. Meteorologist say there's a massive possibility of a potential hurricane brewing off the coast. Everyone is on edge. (Gotham is already a disaster as is. No one wants another one on top of it.)

Reader's not to worried. They grew up with Hurricane parties. Besides the manor has it's own power grid says Alfred. Gotham's power grid is a bit more vulnerable, but luckily the Hospitals and Arkham are on different power grids. Everything should be alright. (Everything should also go according to plan.)

The next time Dick comes by, Reader is a bit short with him. Giving him a disgruntled look that breaks his heart a little and makes it melt. Try as he might he gets nothing other than their annoyance. Even when he finally admits it was Tim's fault they had been denied the chance to go home. It does make them pout even more, how cute. Even when he gifts them a newer phone. Their not stupid, the damn thing is probably bugged to high heaven. And, it's missing all their old contacts since Bruce slammed the SD card under his big bat toe.

Their clearly in a foul mood and everyone is being subjugated to the silent treatment. As their birthday, and their younger brother's birthday, draws closer and closer, a dark cloud seems to hang over them and Gotham.

In a moment born from guilt and ignorance, Bruce buys them a car as an early birthday present. A grandiose little luxury model. With all the bells and whistles. It's even in their favorite color. Not that anyone in the family asked what it was. (Tim might have had something to do with it. After all he did get them banned from traveling. Not that he feels guilty. No way in hell was he letting you go. Especially without him or the others.)

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

"It seems kinda wasteful." You can't help saying it. To tired of putting on that pleasant people pleaser mask for once.

"I know it's a bit extravagant, but since everyone has their own car I thought you should have your own too." Bruce had such an eager smile on his face. Like the whole incident with the crushing your hopes and your phone never happened.

To bad you haven't forgotten nor forgiven.

"Still a waste. I'm not going to get to drive it anywhere." Vinegar coating your tongue as you look at the sleek design.

You can here everyone around you stop cooing and praising the gift. There's no need to further elaborate your point. He gets it. The family gets it. The very earth you stand on gets it. You're not leaving this house. There's no need for the tank of gas to be filled. Or the damn thing to be charged since its some fucking electric hybrid, and probably filled to the brim with all sorts of nasty little tracking bugs.

You could have left it at that. But why not sink that needle deeper into his chest. Not a knife. Never a knife. You want your words to sting and stick. No taking the cut and letting it heal overtime. Let it be tattooed on the skin.

"Besides I already have Daddy's old truck. I don't need this." Don't those words hit like a strike to the soul. Bruce grows visibly still at them. That practiced mask going up and hiding the tells from all of them. Except Cassandra. There's no hiding things from her. They're all laid bare in front of her and she can tell everyone has somethings to say. While you have something to scream.

"You could at the very least be grateful for Father's gift" Damian spoke. He had been so well behaved to far. Keeping quite and watching with attentive green eyes. He could tell this wasn't going to go in the family's favor. He didn't necessarily blamed you for being disgruntled. But, would it kill you to give them a smile. They missed those. Hell, he missed those.

Something in you crackled, but you managed to hold you're tongue. The side-eye you gave him, however spoke enough volumes for you instead.

Astonishingly, it was Duke that set off the electric charge.

"I mean, it is a really nice car. You sure you don't want to take it for a spin?" You can here his attempt at trying to defuse the static in the are, but as fond of him as you are compared to the others, it just sets you off.

"Oh, and where to exactly?" You can't help but snort. "Down the driveway and back?"

"You're acting like a brat." Jason throwing in his two cents. Of course he would say that. And, he's rewarded with a voltaic look from you eyes and a snarl from your lips.

"I. Don't. Care." The words echo in the massive car garage. Bouncing of the walls and the other sleek fancy model cars in it. Your apathy and anger is reward with quiet.

It doesn't last long.

"Let's all just calm down." Dick steps between them, trying to play reconciler. All it serves to do is make you feel more isolated. The way he steps between you cuts you off from the rest of the group and makes it seem like he's singling you out.

"I am calm!" The words coming from your clenched jaw.

"They're the one acting like a spoiled little-"

"Jason, enough." Bruce finally steps in. That stoic look still on his face. Internally, he knows he miscalculated. He made a mistake, and it's humbling to know he can still make them at his age and with all his experience. Still, he wears the mask. He's too busy recalculating and coming up with another plan. Perhaps he was putting to much focus on the wrong thing. That didn't stop him from glaring at that classless truck in his garage.

"Of fucking course Daddy's princess gets away with acting like a brat." Jason doesn't stop though, looking directly at you. Always looking at you. Everyone is always looking at you. But never speaking these days.

"Fuck you." You whisper. Caution and hesitance thrown into the stirring winds.

"Uh-oh, looks like the princess finally snapped." That sickly green look appearing in his eyes. God, does he love this. He knew they had some fucking bite in them. Some spice. Something that made them even more delicious. That just enhanced their sweetness tenfold.

"Jason. Knock it off." Barbara murmurs after Cassandra places a hand on her shoulder. Signaling the direction this could easily head in.

"No, I don't think I will." He sneers, making an attempt to step around Dick and get in your face. It's Tim and Stephanie that try to stop him this time. Both muttering to him and trying to get him to calm down.

You can clearly see it. Their family dynamic. Clear as day. It's right in front of you for you to watch unfold while you stand on the outside looking in. Only getting stray remnants of it when they deem you worth it. You're always worth it though, silly little sugarplum. They’re just terrible at showing it, you poor poor thing. That'll change soon, don't worry. Actually, you should worry.

There's no need to stick around any longer. No fucking need at all. Your feet echoing as you leave the room filled with strangers family and cars. You're leaving. You're going home. And you're going home tonight.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

That night, the news is blaring over Gotham. A sudden hurricane off the coast is set to hit by nightfall. People are being asked to evacuate, already there is panic in the streets.

As much as they don't want to leave things unresolved, the family has no choice, but to respond. Making sure evacuations go smoothly. Keeping the mobs at bay in the stores. Checking that the Arkham inmates are both secure and safe.

It gets worse when the reports further come in. There was lightning spotted off the coast. A lightning storm predicted to hit before the hurricane. That would double the difficulties everyone in Gotham was dealing with.

Most everyone, but Reader.

With the family busy they had plenty of time to pack a few belongings and necessities for a long drive. Glowing eyes taking inventory as the electricity crackled under their skin and the distant skies. Brewing excitement in their chest as the skies filled with dark clouds. Some might think it ominous. But, for Reader it was freedom.

In Gotham that ominous feeling continued. It was as if Gotham itself knew what chaos was about to unfold. Chaos that it would have reveled in if not for the impending feeling of loss found not only in the empty streets, but in Wayne Manor.

As the wind started to wail, nightfall seemed to come earlier with how dark the clouds made the sky. Rain poured in sheets. Most of the Bats took cover, but when the lightning began to strike is when things really when to hell.

By luck or something else, the Gotham power grid was hit. Shutting down over half the city in the first moments of the storm. The downpour hadn't even soaked the concrete when it struck.

The darkness washed over the city and the family knew it was going to be a long long night.

Barbara, in Oracle mode in the Batcave, was focused on keeping everyone updated on new alerts and any looting. She didn't have a chance to glance at the manor cameras and see Reader walking through the halls with a bag on their shoulders before. Multiple strikes of lightning reverberated through the manor. They could be heard echoing all the way down in the cave.

And, they caused the power to go out.

It was only out for twenty minuets. Twenty long minuets of Barbara and Alfred trying to fix the power and get everyone back in contact with each other.

A lot can happen in twenty minutes. Like a garage door opening and closing manually. Like someone driving down the long driveway out of the security gate without being noticed. Like someone could escape without notice in those twenty minutes.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

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[priestfrommidnightmass]

when i have to go an hour without my little music video