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[the-offical-dissapointment]

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[shapeshifterexile]

Batfam x Neglected!Dead!Reader

You had died in a cold room, alone and afraid.

Not heroically like the rest of your family would, or peacefully, or even surrounded by your family.

You died in a damp, cold basement of starvation and pneumonia after the low level kidnappers who’d taken you for ransom declared you a lost cause after all the familial contacts in your phone had left you on voicemail. 

The last memory you remember of being alive was of coughing, of thinking you were so hungry, of telling yourself that you would wake up in just a bit, and then everything went black.

The GCPD found your body, what, two days later? You couldn’t really tell. Or be bothered. Your starving body was rotting on the floor while your soul stared at it as a ghost. It was natural, and perfectly reasonable, you assumed, to freak out. 

The body had been unable to be identified. 

Turns out, when a body rots in a damp basement, along with nearly a month of starvation and pneumonia and broken bones, without any person items that hadn’t been sold off, it was hard to tell who a body was related to.

And bodies with souls that haven’t moved on, as it turns out, rot much faster.

So you followed your body. You watched your own autopsy, the gentle dissection of your body, watching a specialist determine you were still a child, that you died of starvation and pneumonia and lingering blunt force trauma.

Your body was put into storage, a cold, dry coffin on a wall of cold, dry coffins, that left your soul feeling nothing but a cold that couldn’t be shaken.

You spent most of your days roaming the streets after that. You were anchored to these few sections of Gotham, the rich district, the precinct, and the few streets in between. 

Dogs could see you. As could cats, squirrels, birds, most animals, interestingly enough.

Just not human beings.

You stayed at the manor most. Not because you enjoyed it, no.

But because every single day, you held out hope that maybe, just maybe, someone would check their phone for your messages, someone would ask where you were, someone would identify you, and you would be able to move on.

You watched as everyone went along with their lives, and whenever someone asked where you might be? Brushed off.

It was always the same 5 rotating excuses. 

After school program. 

Studying.

Asleep.

At a friend’s house.

Out, you’re old enough to take care of yourself.

You missed living. You missed being warm. You missed being able to feel and cry. You missed at least being slightly acknowledged when you were in the house.

Now the only living things who knew you existed in the manor were the crows in the trees, Ace, Titus, Alfred the Cat, Lucy, Batcow, and the bats in the cave.

That seemed to be it.

And then Duke came along.

You didn’t care for him.

Not at first.

It felt like he was there to replace you, to fill the unconscious void you left in the family that none of your family seemed to realize existed.

And then he saw the family pictures on the mantle for the first time.

“Hey, Tim? Who’s… that? In between Jason and Dick?”

Tim looked up from his maybe 4th coffee for the day, glancing at the photo Duke was staring at. You weren’t smiling in the photo. You were sitting in between Dick and Jason, smushed in between them, looking like you’d be anywhere else. Your clothes weren’t half as nice as the suits everyone else was wearing, and you had bags under your eyes. It was supposed to be a candid photo, everyone chatting and arguing and adjusting their clothing, while you… just stared at the camera with unfocused, tired eyes.

“Oh. That’s B’s kid. First biological one. 2 years older than Damien, I think.”

Duke blinked, staring at the photo, unintentionally ignoring Tim’s voice. He hadn’t seen anyone that looked anything at all like you these past few days.

“- never home anymore. I wouldn’t bother looking.”

“Please look for me.”

“Hey. You… heard that, right?”

“Heard what?”

“Nothing…” 

Duke swore he was hearing voices. He’d been told over and over again that it was just the manor settling. Just someone getting home late from patrol. The manor was too safe and secure for anyone to come and live inside.

No one else seemed to notice it.

Well, besides the animals. They’d bark or whine or purr or moo at something that didn’t even seem to be there.

He’d caught both Titus and Ace, on multiple occasions, barking at absolutely nothing, and curled up, whining. Though the later was nearly exclusively Ace. Titus just barked. 

But either way, Duke heard that one voice nearly every night. And, unfortunately, tonight was just like any other.

“I hate you, you know? I die and not even a day later my replacement moves in.”

And normally, Duke wouldnt talk back. He tired a few times, and it never worked. But tonight was different.

Midterms were about to start, and as a result, teachers at Gotham Academy had been piling on hesr more and more work to get grades in. 

“I’m no one’s replacement. And I’m trying to study. Can you please just shut up for a few hours?”

The voice, thankfully, went silent for a moment, before, “Oh. Oh my god. You can hear me. How can you hear me?!”

That, in all honesty, wasn’t the reaction he was expecting. But the voice rambled on. 

“No one’s even noticed I’m gone, no one can hear or see me, well besides Ace I think, so no human can see me, but either way, do you realize how huge this is for me?!”

Wait. What?

“Am I the first to be able to hear you?”

“Yes!”

“Wait. Were you the one on the photo on the mantle? The one that looked like…” Duke trailed off, remembering your features the best he could.

“Yes!” Duke could swear the owner of the voice seemed to be jumping for joy. “Thats me! That was… me.”

“Was?” He asked, cautiously, waiting for a reply, one that was instead met with silence, a slight creak in the slightly open door, and the ticking of the grandfather clock in the room.

It seems whoever was speaking to him… was gone.

Your cries were haunting Bruce. Nearly every night, for an entire month, he’d be tormented by the same sound from sundown til sunrise. 

A child, crying, begging for their father to come save them.

Every hour, the cries got quieter. Fainter and fainter, changing from wails of pain and pleas to be let go to begs of mercy and to not be abandoned, and finally, around sunrise, soft, almost inaudible cries of forgiveness, with wet, painful coughs echoing during any seemingly empty stretches of sound.

He swore he knew who the voice belonged to, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

It wasn’t Duke or Damien’s, nor was it Cass or Stephanie’s, not Tim, Jason or Dick, not even Barbara’s. 

The only person that left was you.

You, who he clearly remembered allowing to go to a friend’s house and stay the night for as long as you wanted.

You’d basically moved out, at this point, though Bruce figured that a call every once in a while would be nice.

And yeah, he did see your voicemail. All 30 of them. One per day, every day, at the exact same time. But your friend’s mother hadn’t called and you never got into any trouble, so you were most likely fine. Of course, he was slightly concerned when, after 31 days exactly, the voicemails stopped, but he’d check them later.

When Duke had asked at dinner how the person who haunted the house died, the rest of Bruce’s children, along with Bruce himself, of course, looked at the newest addition to their household in confusion.

Duke then clarified. “The person on the mantle in that one photo? The really dusty one in the left corner? Right in the middle?”

Damien clicked his tongue, saying your name like it was a curse. “The elder biological child? Why would you assume that they have died?”

Bruce nodded slowly. “Right, you two haven’t met in person yet. I’ll call them over tonight, you can see them tomorrow morning. They basically live at one of their friend’s houses.” Of course, Bruce would never admit he didn’t know the name of said friend.

It started with an M.

Mia? No. 

Maia? Nope.

Ah, right! Mylanie!

“I swear I heard a voice though.”

“I’ll call tonight and you can meet them in the morning and see that they are, in fact, not dead, if it’ll help. Now. How long have the voices been going on?”

“Just since I saw the photo. But I swear, I-“

“Duke, that was nearly a week ago.” Tim spoke up, looking genuinely concerned. “You’ve been hearing what you think is a dead person’s voice for a week?”

And the conversation devolved from then, and Bruce ignored the sinking feeling in his gut that something was very, very wrong.

Jason knew a lot about death, speaking as someone, who, well, had been brutally murdered. 

But even so, that didn’t ease the pain in his heart as he finally listened to those 31 days of voicemails after ignoring them for nearly a month.

Last time he’d seen you, you’d both argued. Or was it just him yelling at you while you tried to defend yourself, like a cornered, starving dog. He assumed you’d be fine. That 31 voicemails was you being dramatic and too apologetic and that you needed to toughen up.

And now he was hearing 31 days of you being starved and beaten and tortured, everything getting progressively worse and worse every day, until on the 31st day, the kidnappers simply… gave up. Said you’d die within 20 days max if you didn’t get help and hell, they gave the damn address. 

Which Jason then searched up hoping in his heart that someone alive had been found there to see what he could find. And to his despair, there was something.

Multiple articles. Dated back weeks ago. All the same story.

UNKNOWN BODY FOUND AT KIDNAPPING SITE. BODY HAS YET BE TO IDENTIFIED BY CORONERS OR POLICE. IF ANY INFORMATION IS AVAILABLE, PLEASE ALERT THE GCPD.

Jason felt like he couldn’t breathe.

This was a joke. 

It had to be.

You were supposed to be the one thing in his life that wasn’t touched by violence. You were the one kid is this godforsaken family that took care of yourself and cooked and did homework and got on the honor role instead of being a vigilante who got bruises and broken bones.

And now you were dead.

“Jason… I forgive you.”

Goddamn it. So Duke wasn’t crazy after all.

Art for what reader looks like as a ghost! (TW: Body Horror)

TAGLIST: @sleep-all-day-everyday @mitsulov @juninnyxriddle @hatsy15 @reader-bookling123 @myownmeadow @laced4her @unlicenseddriver @cdraisaitl97 @cleverpandaduckdonut @only-dot-nickly @withered-s0ul @hunter-hearz-all @enjisthings @emma--cabrera @3-smi @playing-cards-in-a-circus @bemeochii @what-just-happened-to-me @aeliteaa @alishii @ennaizs-blog @my-strawberry-fields @jazminvioletadominguez

[the-offical-dissapointment]

Omg I am obsessed!!!!!!!!

I need part two!!!

Ahhhhhhhhhh

[playdat]

The Daughter Neytiri Could Not Look At

Stage One: Curiosity

Story: you were born in the sully family, with five fingers, and a skin Like humans, so neytiri was never able to accept you (part 19)

Plot: a boy who grow to notice

All parts here

Tags: @whiskles

@shaheea

@yoko7658

@nacihe

@astrid-ash

@gaiestguyever-to-exist

@justmare

@karma-reader

@qardasngan

@7leo7

@miss-aveline

@commandertorinshepard32

@splatashajumpinoff1226 @sarentuinmyheart

@gmmcfarland04

@rainyreina31

@ottergirl

@zenyboytheoneanonly

@cmalass

@tubby23

@cantaloupesoda

@bluecookies-and-ink

@mcfeemarvel41-blog

@miawolfo

@th3realslimb1tch

@werschitz

@user153639937

@beka-gr33n

@angiebeersblog

@occasionallyfreshhound

@h4loglowxx

@kklovescookies

@neteyamsrealgf01

@victoria2054 @stiveroon

@minqxchae

@dusty-boo

@lvlypinkesworld

@sunmoonsweets @werschitz

@deepangelpartykid

@aloverofanything

@sleep-all-day-everyday

@coloredsenses

@theendlessvoidofdarkest

@kittyslayercute

@shxniq

@celestialsonglines

@iloveotters101

@javajuava05

The days settled into a routine.

Every morning, the Sully children met Tsireya, Aonung, and Rotxo on the beach before the sun had climbed high into the sky. Training was still difficult, but at least you no longer felt like you were drowning every five minutes.

Well... almost.

The Metkayina teenagers had also settled into a routine.

Tsireya encouraged everyone with endless patience.

Rotxo quietly offered advice whenever someone struggled.

And Aonung...

Aonung found a way to comment on nearly everything you did.

One morning, after everyone had successfully ridden their ilus through a narrow stretch of reef, you climbed back onto yours, soaked from another unexpected fall.

Aonung glanced at you before shaking his head.

"You know," he said loudly enough for everyone to hear, "your ilu throws you off so often I think it's trying to return you to the forest."

Lo'ak immediately laughed.

"He's got a point."

You sighed as you squeezed water from your braid.

"I liked you better when you weren't talking."

Rotxo let out a quiet snort, quickly pretending to cough instead.

Aonung folded his arms.

"So you admit I'm right?"

You looked at him with complete seriousness.

"I admit you're loud."

Tsireya covered her mouth to hide a smile.

Aonung blinked.

For a second, he expected you to keep arguing.

Instead, you simply turned back to your ilu and started checking its harness.

"...That's it?" he asked.

You looked over your shoulder.

"What?"

"Aren't you going to defend yourself?"

You shrugged.

"You've already decided you're right."

"So?"

"So there's no point."

You returned to your work as though the conversation were over.

Aonung stood there, strangely unsatisfied.

Usually, when he teased someone, they argued back.

Lo'ak always argued.

Even Neteyam eventually snapped when Aonung pushed too far.

But you...

You didn't seem interested in winning.

Sometimes you answered.

Sometimes you ignored him completely.

Sometimes you simply walked away.

It was... irritating.

Later that afternoon, everyone rested on the beach while Tsireya explained the next exercise.

Aonung noticed you sitting a short distance away, absentmindedly drawing patterns in the wet sand with a small shell.

He walked over.

"You know those waves will erase that."

Without looking up, you answered, "I know."

"So why bother?"

You continued tracing another line.

"Because I wanted to."

He frowned.

"...That's your answer?"

You finally looked up.

"Did you want a different one?"

Aonung opened his mouth.

Nothing came out.

You smiled faintly before standing and brushing the sand from your legs.

"Tsireya's calling us."

You walked away before he could think of another reply.

Rotxo had watched the entire exchange.

As Aonung returned, Rotxo raised an eyebrow.

"I thought you were going to annoy her."

"I was."

"Didn't seem like it worked."

Aonung frowned.

"...She's weird."

Rotxo laughed.

"No."

"She's just not playing your game."

Aonung looked toward the water where you were already listening carefully to Tsireya's instructions.

"...Maybe."

But for the rest of the lesson, he found himself glancing in your direction more often than he realized.

---

Stage Two: Respect

Several days later, the training became harder.

Tsireya led everyone beyond the calm shallows and toward stronger currents near the outer reef.

"The water won't always be gentle," she explained. "If you only learn in calm seas, you won't know what to do when the ocean changes."

You swallowed nervously.

The water already looked deeper than anywhere you'd trained before.

Aonung noticed your hesitation.

"Nervous?"

You looked at him.

"Terrified."

He almost expected you to refuse.

Instead, you tightened your grip on the ilu's harness.

"...But I'm still doing it."

For some reason, that answer stayed with him.

The lesson was difficult from the very beginning.

The stronger currents made balancing much harder, and before long you were thrown into the water again.

You surfaced, coughing.

Lo'ak wasn't doing much better.

Aonung rolled his eyes.

"The two of you are making my ilu nervous."

Lo'ak splashed water toward him.

"Mind your own business."

"It became my business when I had to watch that."

You climbed back onto your ilu without saying a word.

A few minutes later...

You fell again.

Rotxo looked over.

"You alright?"

You nodded while wiping seawater from your face.

"I'm fine."

"You want to rest?"

"No."

"You sure?"

"I'll get it."

You climbed back on.

The lesson continued.

Another turn.

Another wave.

Another splash.

This time, Tsireya swam closer.

"You've fallen a lot today."

"I know."

"We can stop if you're tired."

You looked at your ilu, then back at her.

"...No."

"I want to try again."

Tsireya smiled warmly.

"Alright."

She helped steady the ilu while you climbed back into position.

From farther away, Aonung watched the entire exchange.

He frowned slightly.

He had expected you to complain.

To ask for a break.

To give up.

Instead...

Every time the ocean knocked you down, you got back up.

You muttered to yourself.

You groaned.

Once, he even heard you quietly say, "I'm going to win eventually."

But you never walked away.

When the lesson finally ended, everyone gathered on the shore, exhausted.

Rotxo dropped onto the sand.

"My arms are finished."

Lo'ak fell backward beside him.

"I think I swallowed another fish."

"There wasn't a fish," Neteyam replied.

"There is now."

Everyone laughed.

As you reached the beach, you paused beside your ilu.

You gently rubbed its neck.

"Tomorrow," you murmured quietly, "we're doing better."

The ilu let out a soft clicking sound.

Then it nudged your shoulder.

You smiled.

"There you go."

Aonung had been close enough to hear.

He watched silently as you thanked the same creature that had spent all morning throwing you into the water.

When you walked away to join your siblings, Rotxo noticed Aonung staring after you.

"What?"

Aonung looked away.

"...Nothing."

Rotxo smirked.

"You know..."

"What?"

"I thought she'd quit after her first day."

"So did I."

"But she didn't."

Aonung glanced toward you one last time.

You were laughing quietly as Lo'ak exaggerated another story about being thrown off his ilu.

"...No," Aonung admitted after a moment. "She didn't."

There was no teasing in his voice this time.

Only the quiet acknowledgment that, despite all the falls, all the complaints, and all the seawater you'd swallowed...

You always climbed back on.

And without realizing it, Aonung had begun to respect you for it.

[the-offical-dissapointment]

I am in lovvvvveeeeeeee

[venomsvl]

Okay but I cannot stop thinking about a Neglected!Batfamily Reader in a Project Hail Mary AU after just watching the movie last night and specifically the Batfamily finding out everything through the mission recordings years later.

Because imagine Reader leaving Gotham and eventually changing their last name. Not out of spite or anger or some huge dramatic fight.

They just... stop being a Wayne. They take their mother's maiden name, move on with their life, and nobody notices. Dick thinks Bruce is still in contact with them. Bruce thinks one of the others is. Jason assumes they're gone no contact but still in gotham and are doing fine somewhere. Tim thinks they're busy with Highschool. Damian doesn't even care because he thought they're useless and beneath him.

And meanwhile Reader becomes a middle school science teacher, earns multiple degrees, becomes one of the world's leading experts on astrophage, and somehow the Batfamily never learns any of it.

Then the astrophage crisis happens and Reader gets recruited for Project Hail Mary.

Except they don't want to go. They want to stay on Earth. They want to keep teaching. They want to stay with their students and live a normal life.

and you know that scene in the movie when they're discussing who should go after the explosion and they tell grace that why would he stay? he has nothing tying him to earth. so imagine that during the recruitment process there are background checks, psychological evaluations, investigations into every part of Reader's life, and one of the things that absolutely destroys me is the idea of the investigators concluding that Reader has no immediate family. No close relatives. No spouse. No partner. No dependents. No loved ones that would complicate deployment. Because when they search for family, they search for the surname Reader legally carries. They search for emergency contacts. Next of kin. People Reader keeps in contact with. And they find absolutely nothing.

Reader doesn't correct them either.

Because technically they're right.

The Batfamily hasn't been part of Reader's life for years.

And there are probably recordings somewhere of officials discussing how Reader is uniquely suited for the mission because there are no significant personal attachments keeping them on Earth. No family waiting for them. No loved ones who need a goodbye.

And years later Bruce is sitting in a League briefing room reading those reports and realizing that when they conducted one of the most thorough background investigations, it never connected the raeder to the Waynes at all. Reader had erased them so completely from their records that the people deciding the fate of humanity genuinely believed they had nobody.

And then Reader goes into space.

And then Reader meets Rocky.

And suddenly the recordings stop being about science and start being about family.

Because the Batfamily watches Reader learn Rocky's language. Watches Rocky learn theirs. Watches them struggle to communicate and then slowly understand each other. Watches them study astrophage together. Collect samples together. Capture live taumoeba together. Watch the reader risk their life to get the life sample. Make discoveries that save two entire worlds together. They watch Reader become happier and happier every time Rocky appears on screen and it slowly dawns on them that this alien knows Reader better than they do.

And what really hurts is how easy it is.

Rocky doesn't need years.

Rocky doesn't need reminders.

Rocky doesn't need effort from the reader.

Rocky doesn't need someone else to tell him Reader matters.

He just decides Reader is important and never looks back.

The recordings are full of moments where they choose each other over and over again. Reader getting injured and Rocky risking his life to save them. Rocky needing help and Reader immediately dropping everything to help him. Reader waking up after almost dying and the first thing they search for is Rocky. Rocky in danger and Reader immediately putting themselves at risk. Neither of them ever hesitates.

And then the Batfamily reaches the part where Reader is finally going home.

Humanity is saved. Earth is safe. Reader has spent years alone in space and now they're finally returning. And for a brief moment everyone watching thinks this is it. This is where Reader comes back. This is where they return to Earth.

Then Reader learns about the leak.

discovers that Rocky is going to die.

And they turn around.

Immediately.

No debate. No discussion. Not even thinking thing through. No overthinking.

They just go back.

Because Rocky needs them.

Because Rocky is family.

Because leaving him behind feels like betrayal and agonizing pain.

And I think that's the moment that completely breaks the Batfamily because Reader never once talks about earth the way they talk about Rocky. They never fought for earth the way they fought for Rocky. They never looked at earth or them the way they look at Rocky. They cross the stars without hesitation for someone they love while Gotham barely gets a second thought.

Then years later the Green Lantern Corps finally finds them by chance after everyone assumed they died and everyone assumed Reader will want to come home. Why wouldn't they? Earth is their planet. But Reader doesn't want to come back. Not because they're trying to punish anyone. They just genuinely don't want to leave.

Because they have a life now.

They have a home on Erid.

They teach young Eridians. They help them understand human science. They explain radiation and astronomy and biology. They have students who adore them. They have people who rely on them. They have a community. They have Rocky.

They have a family.

And I love the idea that when the Justice League finally makes contact after green corp gave them the report, reader is completely at peace. They absentmindedly trace the scar on their forearm, the one they got when rocky saved them, the one that resembles his hand, and talk about their students the same way other people talk about their children. They talk about Erid with affection. About Rocky with fondness. About their life with happiness. And for the first time, the Batfamily realizes that Reader isn't surviving out there.

They're thriving and living and taken care of in a way they never did on earth.

So eventually Batman asks for a private conversation because surely there has to be something left tying Reader to Earth, to them.

Surely there has to be something left tying Reader to him.

And after years of regret and guilt and wishing for another chance, Bruce finally tells Reader to come home.

And Reader just looks confused.

Not angry or bitter.

Just confused.

Because they glance behind them at the city they've spent years living in. At the students waiting for their lesson. At Rocky standing nearby.

Then they look back at Bruce and ask,

"Why?"

And I think that's the worst part.

Because Reader isn't rejecting them.

They genuinely don't understand the question.

Because from Reader's perspective, they're already home.

And after watching years of recordings, after seeing Rocky choose Reader every single day without fail, after seeing an entire alien civilization embrace them, Batfamily finally understands something devastating, they where always worth the effort they dismmised and that they lost something of great value but realized to late. and now the reader is living happily on a different planet adn that they dont need them at all, they never did.

[the-offical-dissapointment]

Op.... Must you hurt me in a way I didn't know existed? Must you kill a part of me that never reached daylight? Must you let me embrace you while you dig your dagger in my chest?

(Fucking loved the fic, will forever search for the same heartbreak this brings me for the rest of my life)

[sangunary]

- Batfamily × Neglected Reader!

- Your Big stupid Heart Will Bleed Till Death.

SYPNOSIS: Being the oldest of the family you only wanted to protect them from the world, even when they turn against you, your stupid big heart will bleed forever for your family till the end of time.

- I know I quit writing but I wish to finsih my draft atleast. Not proof read either.

Warning: DO NOT READ IF YOU CANNOT HANDLE HEAVY TOPIC( example: suicide, phobia, shaming, etc).

" I'll protect you forever! Your big sibling Will never let harm catch you, I can do kungfu! "

Twenty two years ago, Bruce Wayne took you in.

You were starving on the street, clinging to life. Before you could close your eyes you felt the chilling warmth of a man. Batman.

Years later you became the first robin, it was great, brutal even.

Bruce wasn't a good father, he was a good mentor but he wasn't prepared to be a father.

He took you in as his prodigy or a pity child. You couldn't careless. You owed him, he saved you from the slum, you're indebted to him.

For you his gaze were cold, words were lifeless and your moments together felt like a rope tied to you two, doesn't feel mutual, felt forceful.

You tried your best to be his favourite, the best sidekick, the best child, best prodigy. Alfred could see your determination, never thinning always glowing.

" You're a special kid, Young master... You have a big heart, it's rare and I admire it. Don't let the world crush it "

He would advise, he knew that Bruce was too cruel especially to a kid like you, he tried to talk sense into Bruce but... He understand why Bruce wasn't ready.

Alfred only wanted the best for the both of you, but for that to be true... One of you will have to suffer, he doesn't want that.

He tried his best for you, but, you can't force someone someone to be a dad.

Being a dad isn't just responsibility of another person who needs to be guided... To be a dad is to be present in someone's life no matter the age, everyone wants to have a dad.

"Master Bruce, the kid needs you..."

He would call out, Bruce was busy with crimes in Gotham no time for your tantrums or problems... Alfred was the guide, Bruce was the decipline, atleast that's what he thought.

Just another illusion to feel like he was apart of your life... Even if it meant not much, Bruce just needs to feel like he's apart of your life to get the guilt going.

"Im sorry Alfred, im busy. Something is seriously wrong with the new company, I need to investigate. They're a big kid now, they can handle themselves... I believe that"

Alfred frowned upon his words. To some that sounds like believe in the kid, but Alfred knew better... Bruce only believe that you can help yourself, not because he thinks you're strong or believe you just because he needs a reason to not feel guilt.

"They're only twelve, they need their father... It's been hours, they're crying nonstop, Master Bruce, I never want to force you but you need to be the father in their life atleast once"

Bruce could only rub his temple in annoyance, he could never argue with Alfred over the truth.

Deep down Bruce knew that he was in the wrong, to act so brutal towards his child... He wanted to be there but he just Cant.

Something about you was just so repulsive.

He knew, he knew that he fucked up. He also knew that neglecting you isn't going to end well... He also knew that he doesn't want to be your father.

It's not like you ask him to be one...

" Im not their father. "

Bruce said, was it the stress talking? or was it the truth taking over him.

Unfortunately, you overheard his comment.

Standing outside his office, your smile drop.

You can feel your organs flushing down the endless pit inside you... Suddenly the world went quite for you, only his words repeating itself in your head.

Initially you just wanted to be with your father, a hangout... You got more than a hangout in the end.

The feeling of not being wanted sting, it hurt, so bad. It's not even your fault but why does it feel like it's your fault that he doesn't want you.

What's so bad about being... your father? Why was it so disgusting for him? Is it because you were simply disgusting, trash or just because you're you that he didn't want you.

You felt stupid, utterly stupid. The man you look up to, shining light on him and all... Your supposed father, never wanted you? How did you never knew...

Still, did he not want you because you're you? Or would he treat any child the same.

You Didn't need to cry yourself to sleep over that though for too long, because he came along- Richard Dick Grayson came.

He was so innocent, a victim to witnessing his parents die. God, you should have knew... The way Bruce smile while watching him roam the house... It felt strange.

For the first time in your life, you saw Bruce feeling the need to be a proper father. Of course not towards you, but towards that hopeless boy... Never you.

Yet you tried so hard- so hard to sew the family together...

" Im so happy to meet you, you can call me your big sibling...! "

You enthusiastically shake his hand. He was real fun, always smiling, playing together and even sharing secrets.

You truly love him, in a sense a biological siblings would love eachother.

Until he robbed you of your mantle as Robin.

That night, you couldn't help it.

The Robin title was your everything, the only thing that made you feel close to Bruce... Yes, you were still foolishly chasing for his approval and love but who could blame you?

And taking your identity as Robin was just not about being a vigilante or Bruce... It was your only source of attention from others... Your only way to shine, to be seen and loved and...

Surely Bruce would hesitate, he would surely remember of the day when you first held the mantle in your hands, you almost cries.

For once in your life, you were handed something out of being cared for not because of obligation or so you thought...

But , Bruce gave him the mantle, replaced you. Without a single fucking thought...

He replaced you so easily, you felt so insignificant, as if your role was just a prototype before the real deal was finished.

Your relationship with Dick slowly drifted in the end. Bruce and him were the duo of Gotham... What about you?

You could only watch from the shadow as he took the spotlight. It hurt, alot.

Watching the person you want as your dad in the spotlight with... someone who isn't you, hurt.

You wanted to be happy but, you couldn't help but cry in secret. If he could be a father for him why can't he be one for you? What's wrong with you that he doesn't want you? What do you need to do to be loved by your father...?

Grayson couldn't spare his time with you much, he was boy wonder, while you... you were nothing but a replacement bird. How sad. How fucking sad your life is.

Then you left home, for collage... What could you have done anyway. Whine? Cry? As if they'll care.

Bruce never called, Dick called rarely, Alfred was your Anchor for everything.

If not for Alfred you would have cuss out Bruce for years of tears and energy you spent for his approval.

Then while you were gone Jason came along after Dick became Nightwing.

You hated your life so much, but you did came home frequently. As much as your relationship with your family was thinning out, you still love them... In your big heart.

" Jason right? Im happy to have you as part of the family... "

Jason was your favourite, you tried your best with Dick but he was in deep sorrow... thinking that Bruce replaced him.

You knew the feeling... But, deep inside you just really wanted to hug him. Tell him that it's alright, you will always be proud of him... Even if he stole your only connection to Bruce...

Jason was the best, he was somewhat mischievous but it was fun, you two get along despite the age gap.

He was like you, from the slum.. In need of help, but unlike you... Bruce was a great father to him.

Watching them together as they smile hurt so much, you shouldn't be jealous of a kid for... spending time with their dad but... Holy, it fucking hurt.

Wiping your tears with your hand you couldn't help but smile.

" Atleast you have something I wanted... "

Jason was a good kid, he deserves a father... You wish you were good enough to his kid too, but it's already too late.

But, one day while you were away from Gotham Alfred called.

Jason died... under Bruce eyes...

That day, was the worst day of your life.

You didn't stop arguing with Bruce the whole time, you couldn't forgive him, how could he be so careless and let him die...

Bruce was brutal as well... Too damn Brutal, the death of Jason definitely help him be more truthful.

" I knew a child like you only cause nothing but problems, I shouldn't have taken you at all... Nothing but burden from the start "

He spit in your face.

The moment his words landed on you, you could feel the world stopping, yeah you knew but why does it hurt so bad...

It was as if years of wounds opened again after you assumed they heal.

" Master Bruce! Mind yourself, you're speaking out of anger towards your own chil- "

"Enough Bruce, they are no child of mine... I did nothing as a father for them... They do not deserve to be *my* child"

...

...

...

...

" I see... "

Your voice came out, a whisper... As if you were bathing yourself in his word.

The world turned dark, or blurry? you felt cold yet from the tip to your toe you felt the heat radiating...

Throat drying out and your organs were squirming around in your stomach, you were hyper observant of your own body, how your fingers were trembling slightly or how you couldn't stop you muscle from tensing up.

"I-..."

You wanted to speak but you couldn't, it hurt so bad.. So bad, so bad, so bad, so bad...

If he didn't want you why must he do this, to be in your life yet to not be there. How? how does he do it?

Evryone thinks he's so mighty yet he won't accept YOU, what did you ever do to him, you only wanted his love, is it so wrong for a child to need love?

He only acted responsible but he was never caring. Acted out of obligation.

You wanted to claw his throat out, grab his neck and scream and yell, shouting out why he wouldn't love you...

But only you could imagine, in truth you were stuck, frozen, tears rolling down before you could blink...

You press your lips thin together, swallowing your own saliva becomes difficult now... You gave never felt so seen in the worst way possible.

"Young master... Master Bruce is merely stressed and the death or master Jason is making him say something he will regret"

Alfred as usual tried to comfort or ease the tension rising.

"Master Bruce, I do not wish to be in such position ever to correct you but your grief of Master Jason's death give you no privilege to act so barbaric, to curse the child you took under you when they never ask of you... I hope you know that cursing then will only hurt you later"

A lengthy of words, but you couldn't even hear them over Bruce voice...

"I'll be leaving... I assume that you'll be much happier that way..."

Without hesitation you left... You didn't want to hear their words... You just couldn't.

Bruce words of 'not wanting you' , 'burden' , 'problem child' they all were overlapping inside your head... As if a crowd of people were yellow that at you.

-

" So what happened next? You mean to say father incompetence ruin his relationship with his first responsibility, I cannot believe that I could ever be ashame of father's action but I currently am"

Damian ask Dick.

It was christmas, lively, cold and everything nice... And a bunch of kids(one kid, one teen and two adult but all together... kids) were sitting in the cozy big room.

Unfortunately the topic of the first Robin came up.

Dick hesitantly told them the tale of, afterall only Tim and Damian knew nothing of you.

"I never counted B to he the type to act so... cold, towards a child".

Tim added, it's hard to imagine the hero of Gotham and their Bruce to he so... Cruel.

Jason sigh, looking bored as usual... Afterall he wasn't there at his own agreement rather pressured by Alfred.

"Why do you two even care about such old time story?".

"Well unlike you, I certainly care about the past... No wonder you did terribly at History back than"

Damian insulted him, Jason was not that even mad, hell he could barely care about the dog barking.

"Eitherway, what happened? Yknow, after Jason's death... I did know about them but ever since I took the mantle I never saw them once..."

Tim was quite- no very interested in this whole story.

Afterall, five years ago he did try to find you and your information but nothing... As if Bruce himself wipe you.

But in the end Bruce found out about the truth, warned Tim and unfortunately the idea somehow slip out of his mind.

"They're fine, happy... with a family... They cut tie with us but im pretty sure that is the best option for them"

Dick said, he was sad of the outcome but it was the best one.

"Are you certain?"

Damian asked. It's such a flat answer, it's hard to believe that after all that story it's just yay happy ending.

"Belive it or not, that's the truth"

Jason added. Tim and Damian were still abit skeptical but these two are the only source of information, so no choice but to unwillingly agree.

After dinner Jason was smoking outside the maynor, it was comforting and quite stress free moment until he heard Dicks footstep.

"There you are, let's go"

Dick was wearing the black muffler given by Alfred, it was cozy and quite warm... perfect for the cold weather of Christmas.

"Next time, I'll leave your ass behind"

A warning or a threat... Dick couldn't help but laugh at it anyway, he didn't even take it seriously.

Chatting idly they began to walk out the gate of the maynor, deeper into the wood, the crunching of snow beneath their feet.

For a moment, you could see two yount boys walking down... As if the past was fixed and instead of Dick ignoring Jason the two of them, or the younger imagine of them were getting together as intended.

"Here we are... It's awfully peaceful here"

Dick chuckled as he clean the stone that was covered in snow with such tenderness.

"Why did you argue on it being here then on the compound of the maynor...?"

Jason ask, to be honest walking 2 miles was nothing but abit illogical when the 2 miles could have been 34 steps.

"Cause, they'll hate to be so close to the maynor... for them, that place only brings pain"

"I don't understand how you could... Lie to those dumb ass... I hate the way you covered for Bruce and how... you let your delusion run"

Jason sit down on the ground as he let out his lighter lighting his cigar, puffing out white smoke as he looked up.

The truth was...

Dick got worried after hearing about you and Bruce argument and how you wouldn't pick up the phone calls from Alfred even after a week.

He came to your apartment, knocking over and over again but you never came.

He force his way in... Then suddenly.

Chair on the ground, as id kick away. The creaking of the fan and... your body hanging from the fan.

Your body was still, lacking any sign of live... The rope was tight against your neck... your eyes were somewhat opened, but he could only see the white.

Yet your eyes, they scare him deeply.

He could never forget the look on your dead face, so alive yet so... empty.

Your mouth opened as if gasing for air, the slight drool mic with tears and the pungent smell of death.

At first he couldn't even move, nor cry or panick... He was lock in shock.

What was worst was that while Dick hold onto your cold body, he cried so hard. Begging for you to come back, cursing himself.

"Please, please, Don't leave me.. I haven't even told you- how... greatful I am of you, please don't, don't do this..."

He knew no matter how hard he called, you'll never open your eyes again... Afterall you have been dead for two days.

God, he wondered how lonely you would have been during those days, did you regret it? the purple line of bruises on your neck linger onto his head.

How much have you been suffering....?If only he wasn't so immature back then, maybe you'd be alive and happy..

"... It's better if they don't know the truth, but im sure we both know that they'll prefer the lie..."

Dick continue as he pulled himself out of that memory.

"Hell, don't act like it's much, you always visit atleast once a week, I've seen you talking to the them..."

Hearing that Jason almost groan out of frustration, only because Dick was likely to tease him.

It was true, Jason always visited your grave atleast once a week. Talking, telling you about how shitty life was, Bruce and how he missed you.

He could never forget you, afterall you were the first person to welcome him with love and care...

"A happy family you say? I do not think they'll be able to catch any person with their temper"

Jason joked, they both were actively grieving you by imaging a future where you live, happy and healthy.

"That's... true. But hey, some like it spicy afterall"

Dick responded, perfectly.

"Disgusting..."

"Oh-!? You started it, red!"

[the-offical-dissapointment]

Writing so good it made wanna kill myself again

But like in a good way

[ywrt]

Yooo about your paranoid reader x Batman blurb that you wrote, could you do a part two? Maybe one where reader keeps flinching at sudden movements around the Batman or refuses to turn their back on them? Just, small things that start to add up in the background until someone tries to grab reader (bonus points if it’s to try and hug them) and reader freaks out/shoves them off and runs away to hide somewhere in the mansion

Part 1 of whatever my brain made at 4 am

Sorry, it may not be what you asked, i promise in the next part to put more moments with the family

Run rabbit, RUN

Fem! Panaroid Reader x neglective batfamily

Warning: use of Y/N, prob Ooc, no proofread, inacurate anxiety attack, attempt or murder, child abuse, weapons, writer knows little of DC and just writes for fun, English is not my first language

Words: 1,8k

Divider

No one has ever want you even once

You had try to be likeable

You really tried

When you were little, you remember being quiet, as quiet as possible so mommy could have her break, after all, mommy was always so busy and she always worked so hard so you could have something to eat, something to play with and something you could use for school

Your mother was a good woman and a great mother, she may hit you on your thight when talking too loud or for too long, she may send you to get her crayon packages at night by those scary looking mens, but

You loved your mommy

And thats why you cryed so much when strangers took her away from you, you wanted to be with her, why would they separate you from your mommy?

They would send you to a scary looking house

Where you were to die

Alfred was nice at the begining he try to take care of you, and he was lucky you were a nice girl, so you always stayed quiet, you never demanded, you never cried or made tantriums

So Alfred as years passed kinda forgot about you

Your father, Bruce Wayne, never really talked to you, you rarely saw him, and he always looked tired and sad all the time, and of what Alfred told you, in that moment Bruce was passing a rough time

He had just lost one of his sons called Jason, so after learning that, you kind of left him to have peace, one day he would look at you and embrace you and apologize for not being precent...right?

Barbara was there you guess, she was very rarely around the house and you had heard her refering to her father that was not Bruce...you really never understood what was she suposse to be in the family

Richard was there too, he told you to call him "dick" but that was HORRIBLE, your teacher taught you to never say bad words like that, so you call him Richard anyways, he was there for some seconds, until he leaved you for other stuff, it must had been bad for him too, the lost of his younger brother and all, so you never try to push, you ended up never really seeing him

And there was Tim, he came after Jason's dead too, so you thought you two could bond over being kinda ignore...but all contrary, in fact, Bruce talked to him freely and so did Richard, he actually kinda hated you, he would ignore you when you try to talk to him by his door or just tell you he was busy

Maybe the problem wasnt the grief...maybe you just...werent wanted on the house

But one day Jason came back!! If he was back, maybe everything would be fine, maybe with his arrival, you would finally have a brother, or even better, your whole family would finally see you!

Oh how wrong you were, you were so foolish to think Jason would welcome you with open arms

Because when you try to approach him and present yourself, he attack you giving you a punch in the face, strong enough to make your lips bleed and trow you in the grownd, Richard manage to stop him before anything came out to the worst

But he never conforted you, he didn't even help you to stand up

He just said excuses to defend him "he hasgone through a lot" "forgive him, he had it bad today" what was that kind of excuse!?...you at least learn something

always avoid Jason Todd

Stephenie came one day

Unlike the others, she try, she really did, she was a good old sisters but, you guess the grow ups life got her consume and slowly she left too

Cassandra didnt even try to talk to you, she just stare...she was so weird, and scary, you did not like her at all

Duke came, but you never really tried with him, you were just tired at that point, you two time to time would share good mornings and hellos, but nothing more asides that

You seemed like a strager in your own hom- no, house, and everything got worse when the demon appear, when that devil boy came through the doors, you were kniting on the sofa of the livingroom, one of the things you did to make your stress calm down since every visit Jason had in the house, left you with a beating heart of flash and a strage ache on your chest

When you saw him, the little boy, you only smiled softly and wave at him, he maybe was just another kid Bruce got from who knows where

You were at peace, until the boy got out a damn dagger and jumped into you, he stabbed your chest multiple times saying nonsense of "there can only be one" and "im the only heir" you could pnly thing of how painfull it all felt, the shock didnt let you move at all,he try to stab your face when you saw Tim holding him down, everything hurt, you began to fall unconcious, you saw Richard approaching you...and you fell unconcious...

You wake up in a weird place, it was too dark, you were attached to IVs? Blood? Your gaze was blurry

You were alone, it was cold and you were so scared, that kid try to kill you!! Surely Bruce wil do something about it...no?...he may had passed his son having punching you because it was his dead son, but he would not let this pass...right?

Alfred came into view, he told you something you couldnt hear and checked around you

Then Bruce appear, he took a glance at you, your father was here, finally, he was going-"You must forgive Damian...he had gotten life dificult, he didnt meant what he did"

Those were the only words you heard before he left...

After that, no one really saw you after, it was until some weeks that you finally were capable to go to your room, when you got out of that place that was not an hospital, you saw around you stones, multiple big computers and a damn dinosour!?...where the fuck were you!?

You try to ask Alfred but he didn't told you anything

Once you were back in your room, you took a glance at your body, you had a little scar on your cheek...it seems that child manage to slash your face before he was pulled away...the you pulled your shirt up and saw 6 stab scars around your chest....oh god, you pull it down imidiatly after seeing it...oh god

You almost died, that child...no...that demon try to killed you and your father...your family...THAT family did not cared at all

Did they even loved you? Were you even concider part of the family?

What if Bruce actually wanted you gone? What if all he did, passing the stuff his children did to you, was so you could be gone

He hated you and the rest also hated you

They rather saw you dead than take you to the streets

They- the demon, what if he try it again?What if he try to kill you again? Oh god no, oh no, he-he may try other things, what if while you were asleep? Or with your food? Or even send another person to-

...

They were going to kill you

After the accident, you became a ghost in the manor

You were out mostly at night because you noticed they were usually gone by that time

Alfred began to become worried, you never went out of your room if it wasnt for school or to eat if Alfred swore the family wasnt eating in the table

He also notice after ghe accident that you stopped kniting...maybe it trigger the accident?

He try to make Bruce take a hint that maybe he should check on you, but Bruce has always been stuborn

So he decided to do it on his own

You were sat down on the table, Alfred saw you flinch when he came back with tea, he didn't said anything about it, he just placed the cup in front of you

You just stared at the cup...

"Miss Y/N, has there been something troubling you?"Alfred asked calmly, but you kept staring at the cup

"...Miss Y/N?"

"Alfred...could you get me...ice?"

"Ice?"

Alfred repeat to make sure he had heard her well...ice? For tea?

"Yeah...ice..."

"...imidiatly Miss Y/N"

After some minutes, Alfred came back with a bowl of ice, when he saw Dick approach with a smile, he took a glance at you and...you looked terrify

Dick try to pet your head, but as soon as he moved his hand, you threw the whole burning cup straight to his face, the hot liquid went around his face, neck and chest, he let out a scream of pain by the burn, Alfred call for him as she grabbed a towel to try to dry him off...

You were so scared, all you did was scream terrify to Dick to go away from you, and you ran, ran to another room, far away from him

By luck it didn't left a scar, still, Bruce was furious when he found out, he went through the house, calling for you...but you were not on sight

The anger grew to worry, because he had search EVERYWHERE, but you werent in the house...it was night, he should be out already, but you werent anywhere, you maybe scape the house? Oh god no, what if you end up hurt? Or worse?

What he did not know, was that you were hiden on the attic, trembling and scared, scared of Bruce, you just hurt his golden boy, and he had already show you how much important you are to him

He will have you dead, you were sure of that

You started to breath fast, you couldn't breath, you were too focuse on thinking sooner or later, they would find you and they will make it painful

You didnt even noticed that your whole body became transparent, you were now invisible, Your powers, powers that you didn't knew you even had awaken when you started to think how would Bruce kill you when he finds you

You had to Run, run far away from the house, the manor was no safe place you had to RUN

"P-please...someone...save me..."

You plead almost like a pray

You stayed curl up in a corner trying to breath, without know that far away from gotham, a tal man with curly ends in his dark hair had heard your call for help

Hello!!

Thank you for reading till the end

I wassnt going to make anything with the og post at the start, but seeing how much support it had i decided to make it an actual fanfic

This one will be short, maybe 5 chapters?

The chapters will also be slow with this one, since i already have two long fic on the way

Thanks too to all the people in the comments on the og post that left their own ideas for the fic

[the-offical-dissapointment]

Oh my god...

I am obsessed

I could genuinely feel my heart breaking

I am in love

Ahhhh

[chun491784]

The Sully boys

[the-offical-dissapointment]

Pretty

[silverlullabies]

The second Captain John Price receives credible intelligence regarding his missing lieutenant, accompanied by photographic evidence of said lieutenant’s current condition, he pinches the bridge of his nose and holds it there for a long moment.

Then he releases a sigh so deep and profoundly exhausted that the paperwork on his desk flutters.

There are moments in a man’s life when he reflects upon the choices that brought him to his present circumstances. Price has had more of those moments than most, usually while being shot at, occasionally while filling out expense reports, and once while watching Soap attempt to determine whether a grenade could be used to open a particularly stubborn jar of pickles.

This, however, may be the first time he has seriously regretted not accepting that desk job his uncle offered him straight out of school.

Corporate office. Nine to five. Sensible shoes. Perhaps a retirement party where the greatest threat to his life would’ve been Sandra from Accounts becoming emotional after two glasses of prosecco.

Instead, he is staring at a photograph of Lieutenant Simon Riley tied to a chair in what appears to be a dungeon.

Bare concrete walls, chains hanging from hooks, one exposed bulb casting ominous shadows. There is even what appears to be a table containing several neatly arranged implements of torture, although Price suspects at least two of them are novelty kitchen utensils.

Simon sits in the middle of it all wearing his skull mask, trousers, and an expression that cannot be seen but can nevertheless be felt radiating through the photograph.

Price studies the ropes binding his lieutenant’s wrists.

He blinks.

He studies them again.

The rope is looped around Simon’s arms perhaps twice, secured with what looks suspiciously like a shoelace knot, and hanging loose enough that a moderately determined toddler could escape it.

“Are we certain this is current?” Price asks.

The intelligence officer standing opposite his desk shifts his weight. “Timestamp puts it at fourteen hundred yesterday, sir.”

“And we’re certain it’s Riley?”

“Yes, sir.”

Price looks back at the photograph.

Simon’s boots are planted comfortably apart. His shoulders are relaxed. There are no visible injuries. Someone has placed a folded blanket beneath him so the metal chair won’t be uncomfortable.

There is also, Price notices with mounting despair, a bottle of water positioned beside his right foot with the water level already half gone.

“Right,” Price says.

The investigation continues and it should be difficult to determine how one of the world’s most highly trained special operations soldiers was abducted from his own home. Simon Riley is six foot something of professionally cultivated paranoia. He checks exits without thinking, sleeps lightly, and once identified a surveillance team because the same pigeon appeared outside three different cafes.

You, by comparison, possess all the operational subtlety of a marching band falling down a staircase.

Price discovers you have been following Simon for six weeks.

Not discreetly, no. You’ve followed him to the store, the gym, the shooting range, and several coffee shops. You’ve taken photographs from behind newspapers held upside down, worn a black trench coat during a heatwave, an once crouched behind a decorative hedge that did not make you as invisible as you probably led yourself to believe you were.

Security footage shows Simon looking directly into the camera on several occasions while you scurry behind him between hiding places.

Price sees all of this and lowers his face into his hands.

The next report arrives shortly before lunch.

“A syringe was recovered from Lieutenant Riley’s residence,” an officer tells him.

Price straightens slightly. Finally. Something resembling an actual crime.

“Forensics?”

“Lorazepam, sir.”

“What dosage?”

The officer consults the report. “Zero point five milligrams.”

Price stares at him.

The officer clears his throat. “Ativan.”

“I know what lorazepam is.”

“Yes, sir.”

Price looks at the report again, perhaps hoping an additional zero will materialize through force of will.

It doesn’t.

“Zero point five.”

“Yes, sir.”

“That dose wouldn’t knock out a pensioner after Sunday lunch.”

“No, sir.”

“Riley weighs nearly two forty.”

“Yes, sir.”

They stand in silence and Price’s eye begins to twitch.

The final piece of evidence is recovered from a traffic camera positioned across from Simon’s flat where Pricd can see you dragging Simon beneath the arms towards the back door.

Dragging is perhaps generous. You are straining, red faced and panting, moving him approximately three inches at a time while Simon allows his boots to scrape uselessly across the floor. His head lolls against his shoulder with theatrical unconsciousness.

In the process, his boot catches the base of a standing lamp, which begins to fall.

Simon, still allegedly unconscious, reaches out one hand, catches it, carefully rights it, and places it back beside the doorway.

“Unbelievable,” Price mutters.

You turn around at the sound and he drops his arm and resumes being unconscious before you see him.

You stare suspiciously and Simon remains perfectly still.

After several seconds, you shrug and return to your kidnapping.

Price pauses the footage, sits back, and runs both hands slowly down his face, dragging his palms over his beard until he resembles a man trying to physically remove himself from existence.

Behind him, one of the task force operators shifts impatiently. “Captain?”

Price says nothing.

“Do you want us to assemble a team?”

“No.”

There is a pause.

“No, sir?”

“No.”

“But Lieutenant Riley has been taken hostage.”

“Has he?”

The operator looks at the frozen image on the screen. Simon’s enormous, supposedly unconscious body is halfway inside a compact hatchback while you attempt to fold one of his legs through the door.

“He’s tied to a chair, sir.”

“He could break those ropes by sneezing.” He says while he picks up Simon’s personnel file.

He opens it, turns to the appropriate page, and begins filling out a leave request.

The operator watches him. “Sir?”

Price writes Simon Riley beneath the section marked PERSONNEL NAME.

“Captain, what are you doing?”

“Administrative work.”

“Shouldn’t we at least contact him?”

Price checks the box beside personal leave.

“He’s been missing for two days.”

Price writes seven beneath REQUESTED NUMBER OF DAYS, considers it, crosses it out, and replaces it with fourteen.

“Sir.”

Price signs the bottom of the form with a flourish made violent by fatigue.

The operator makes a questioning noise in the back of his throat.

Price places the completed document neatly on top of the photograph showing his lieutenant sitting comfortably in a dungeon with a blanket beneath his ass, a half finished bottle of water by his foot, and enough slack in his restraints to knit a second rope.

“No deployment,” Price says. “No rescue attempt. No one contacts him unless there’s an actual emergency.”

“But- ”

“Simon’s exactly where he wants to be right now.”

[the-offical-dissapointment]

I would do this....

But to price

Tehehe

[theyshapedlikefriends]

[kenpisces]

⤷ ゛policeman!nanami finding you crying on the sidewalk and comforting you. ˎˊ˗

the precinct’s fluorescent hum had long since faded into the city’s evening static, replaced by the softer glow of streetlamps and the distant thrum of weekend traffic.

nanami saw you from half a block away.

a splash of color against the grey concrete, seated on the edge of the sidewalk like a garden flower that had somehow taken root in a crack. and you were crying, just quiet sniffling reaching his ears, your shoulders curved inward, a crumpled tissue pressed to your nose.

nanami slowed his pace. he didn’t sigh, he did, however, briefly close his eyes as if asking the universe why it had to be him when all he wanted was to go home and read the newspaper. but the universe was predictably silent, so he approached. it was his duty after all.

“miss.”

you looked up.

your eyes were wet and a little glassy, framed by lashes that clumped together in tiny, tragic triangles, your bottom lip was still trembling a bit and despite it all— or maybe because of it— nanami found himself thinking you looked rather lovely, as if you were a watercolor painting left out in the rain.

“are you all right?” he asked, voice even. “do you need assistance?”

you blinked at him, then sniffled. “you’re… really tall.”

“yes,” he agreed, because, well, it was true. he pursed his lips, head tilting forward as he patiently awaited for any kind of continuation from you.

“and you have a…” you gestured vaguely at your own face, “...thing. on your face.”

“glasses.”

“glasses,” you repeated, nodding sagely as if he’d just shared profound wisdom. “i like them.”

“what’s your name, miss?”

your brows furrowed as you tried your best to give him the right answer before you muttered it out. he made a note to remember it.

you were clearly drunk; definitely drifting somewhere warm and hazy beyond sobriety. nanami assessed this in about two seconds. he also assessed that you were alone, it was getting late, and that sitting on a sidewalk in that dress was an invitation to every piece of gum and city grime within a three-foot radius.

“can you tell me why you’re crying?” he asked, because protocol dictated he should establish whether a crime had occurred before he started making assumptions. but his voice had softened at the edges without his permission.

your face crumpled a little, enough to make something in his chest tighten. what a sad little creature you were.

“he said—” you started, then stopped, dabbing at your nose with the tissue. “he said i was trying too hard. that i looked…” you gestured down at yourself, at the shimmer of your dress, “...like o was desperate.”

nanami’s expression didn’t change as he intently listened to your words.

“and i just thought…” you continued, voice wobbling dangerously, “i thought i looked pretty. i felt pretty. i did my nails and everything, sir, see?”

you held out your hands. your nails were meticulously shaped, painted a delicate, pearlescent pink that caught the streetlamp light. your fingers trembled slightly.

nanami looked at your nails, his own hand darting forward to catch one of your fingers between his and rub on the surface. he looked at your dress, he looked at your face, all hopeful and devastated and endearingly tipsy, seeking validation from a complete stranger in a police uniform.

“they’re very nice nails,” he said.

you perked up, tear-tracks glistening. “really?”

“really.” He paused. “the color suits you.”

it was the truth. he’d never been good at saying things he didn’t mean, which was probably why he was still a beat cop instead of moving up the ladder. he saw you smile for the first time: a small, wobbly, watery curl of your glossy lips, and felt something quietly dangerous settle behind his ribs.

“thank you,” you whispered. then you deflated, as if remembering your grief all over again, “he didn’t even show up. i waited for an hour. an hour. and when i texted him, he said…” you trailed off, fresh tears spilling over.

nanami didn’t need to hear the rest. he’d been a policeman long enough to piece together the shape of it. someone had let you down and had made you feel small for daring to care. it was, in his opinion, unforgivable. you were adorable.

“may I?” he asked, gesturing to the spot on the curb beside you.

you nodded, sniffling, and he lowered himself down. his long legs stretched out in front of him, polished shoes planted on the asphalt. up close, he could smell your perfume—something floral and soft—and the faint lingering scent of whatever you’d been drinking earlier. wine, probably. something sweet.

you leaned toward him instinctively, a little magnet seeking north. “you’re sitting on the sidewalk,” you observed. “isn’t that against the rules?”

“i’m off-duty in twenty-three minutes,” he said. it was close enough to true. “i’ll let myself off with a warning.”

that earned him a giggle, hiccupy and surprised, and you clapped a hand over your mouth like you’d forgotten you were capable of making that sound. nanami felt the corner of his own mouth twitch.

“you’re very nice,” you said. “pretty policeman with the glasses. sitting on the dirty ground. for me.”

“the ground isn’t that dirty,” he replied, “and you looked like you needed someone to sit with you.”

your face crumpled, then smoothed, then crumpled again. you pressed your lips together hard. “that’s… that’s a really kind thing to say.”

he didn’t answer, he wasn’t even sure he could. instead, he just stayed there, solid and warm beside you, while the city hummed around you both and you slowly, gradually, stopped trembling. after a while, your head drifted sideways and landed on his shoulder. he let it.

“he doesn’t deserve your nails,” Nanami said eventually, into the quiet.

you let out a surprised laugh. “my nails?”

“or your dress,” he added. “or the hour you waited. none of it.”

you were quiet for a moment, before muttering very softly, “you don’t even know me.”

“i know enough.” he turned his head slightly, looking down at the top of yours. “someone who puts in that much effort deserves someone who shows up.”

you pulled back just enough to look up at him, eyes red-rimmed but clearer now. “is that, like, a police thing? you have to say nice things to crying girls on sidewalks?”

“it’s not in the manual,” he said. and because you were looking at him like he’d hung the moon, and because he was very tired and his filter had apparently clocked out early, he added, “but I mean it, sweetheart.”

you stared at him. he stared back.

“okay,” you whispered. “okay.”

he helped you up when your ride arrived— a friend you’d called, voice still thick but steadier now. before you climbed into the car, you turned back to him.

“wait,” you said, fumbling with your phone. “what’s your number? so i can, um. thank you properly. when I’m not…” you waved a hand at your own face. “this.”

nanami hesitated. it wasn’t very professional of him, yet he gave it to you anyway.

“text me when you’re home,” he said, sliding the phone back into your waiting hand. “so I know you made it safely.”

you nodded, clutching the phone to your chest like something precious. “i will. i promise.”

he watched the taillights disappear around the corner and stood there for a long moment, hands in his pockets, the ghost of your perfume still lingering on his uniform. he had twenty-three minutes left on his shift—well, less now—and a strange, unfamiliar lightness in his chest.

the next morning, he woke up to a text from an unknown number. It was a photo of your nails, catching the morning light, with a message underneath:

see? still pretty. thanks to you. - the sidewalk girl

nanami stared at his phone for a long time. then, very carefully, he saved your number and typed out a reply.

i’m glad. coffee sometime?

he hit send before he could overthink it, and for once in his life, was glad he did.

[the-offical-dissapointment]

Ahhhhhhh

I need himmmmm

[the-offical-dissapointment]

jsyk tumblr user aroace-ryland-grace is not an rp account

Oh

Thnx 4 letting me know...

I was just trying to be funny... Tho..

[itzzkaylaaa]

[theprofessional-amateur]

link to bluesky post

[theprofessional-amateur]

In addition to how to turn various things, it includes:

Other useful AI Removal/Detection links

How to spot AI Hallucinations like a Reference Librarian (originally on Substack)

Library Freedom Project has a lot of handouts about AI on their Resources page

[edgeofgreatness]

spiderman bnd ending with the power of friendship trumping romantic relationships hell yeah

[playdat]

The Daughter Neytiri Could Not Look At

"You Went to Her?"

Story: you were born in the sully family, with five fingers, and a skin Like humans, so neytiri was never able to accept you (part 18).

An argument /3

Tags: @whiskles

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@shxniq

The news reached you two days later.

Not from Jake.

Not from Neytiri.

You overheard it.

Training had ended early because strong currents had made the reef unsafe. While walking back through the village with Tsireya, you passed two Metkayina women sorting shells outside one of the maruis.

"...I still cannot believe they almost fought."

"It was over the forest girl."

"The Tsahìk would not send her away."

"The mother was furious."

You slowed your steps.

Tsireya noticed immediately.

"What is it?"

You barely heard her.

"...Who?"

The older woman looked up, realizing you had overheard.

She immediately looked uncomfortable.

"...Child..."

"Who almost fought?"

The woman hesitated.

"...Your mother."

Your heart sank.

"...My mother?"

"...And Ronal."

You stared at her.

For several long seconds, you couldn't make sense of the words.

"...No."

The woman lowered her eyes.

"It happened two mornings ago."

Your breathing became uneven.

"You are mistaken."

"I'm not."

"Why?"

Neither woman answered.

That silence told you everything.

You didn't wait for another word.

You turned and ran.

---

Jake had just returned from fishing with Tonowari when he heard hurried footsteps outside the marui.

He barely had time to stand before you pushed through the entrance.

Your face was flushed from running.

Your breathing was heavy.

Neytiri looked up from where she was preparing dinner.

"You are back early."

You looked directly at her.

"Did you go to Ronal?"

The marui fell silent.

Jake's expression changed instantly.

Neytiri didn't answer.

You stepped closer.

"...Answer me."

Jake spoke first.

"Let's calm down."

"No."

Your eyes never left Neytiri.

"Did you?"

After a long pause...

"...Yes."

One word.

That was all it took.

Your stomach dropped.

"You actually did it."

Neytiri stood slowly.

"I needed to speak with her."

"You told her to stay away from me."

It wasn't a question.

She didn't deny it.

"I did."

Your voice rose before you realized it.

"Why?"

"Because she is not your mother."

"I KNOW SHE ISN'T!"

The force of your reply startled everyone inside the marui.

Even Tuk stopped moving.

You took another step toward Neytiri.

"I never called her my mother."

"I never asked her to replace you."

"Then why are you always with her?" Neytiri shot back, emotion finally breaking through her composure.

"Because she wanted me there!"

The words echoed through the marui.

Silence followed.

You swallowed hard.

"When I came to her..." your voice shook, "...she didn't look at me like I was a burden."

Neytiri flinched.

You noticed.

But you couldn't stop.

"You know what she did?"

You laughed bitterly.

"She listened."

"She noticed when I was hurt."

"She remembered what I liked."

"She made time for me."

Jake closed his eyes.

He knew where this was going.

Neytiri's voice was quieter now.

"I was trying—"

"When?"

You interrupted.

"When I was little?"

Your eyes had begun to water, but you refused to look away.

"When I begged you to teach me to hunt?"

"I remember being excited."

"I thought..." You laughed softly through the hurt. "I thought maybe this time it would just be us."

Your voice cracked.

"But you sent Dad instead."

Jake looked down.

He remembered that day too well.

"I waited for years."

You continued.

"I kept thinking maybe tomorrow you'd want me."

"Maybe next hunt."

"Maybe next lesson."

"Maybe next birthday."

Your breathing became uneven.

"But tomorrow never came."

Neytiri stepped toward you.

"I know I made mistakes."

"Mistakes?"

You shook your head.

"No."

"Mistakes happen once."

"This was my whole childhood."

The words struck harder than shouting ever could.

Neytiri looked as though she'd been hit.

"I watched you with them."

You gestured toward your siblings.

"You smiled."

"You taught them."

"You held them."

"And every time I wondered..."

Your voice became almost a whisper.

"...what was wrong with me?"

Nothing.

No one spoke.

You looked directly into her eyes.

"Was it because I wasn't blue?"

Neytiri's face drained of color.

"No."

"Then why?"

"I..."

"You looked at me differently."

"You held me less."

"You barely spoke to me."

"You avoided me."

"So tell me."

You weren't yelling anymore.

Somehow, that made it worse.

"What did I do?"

Neytiri opened her mouth.

Nothing came out.

Because there wasn't an answer that could erase years of memories.

Tears finally slipped down your face.

"And then..."

You laughed bitterly.

"The first person who actually made me feel like I mattered..."

"...you tried to take her away too."

Neytiri's own eyes filled with tears.

"I wasn't trying to hurt you."

"But you did."

You wiped your face angrily.

"You don't get to decide who I'm allowed to care about."

"I am your mother."

"You are."

You nodded once.

"But you haven't acted like one to me for a long time."

The sentence shattered what little composure Neytiri had left.

She took another hesitant step.

"I want to fix this."

You looked at her for several long seconds.

When you finally spoke...

Your voice was exhausted.

"You had years."

Then you turned away.

Jake called your name quietly.

You didn't stop.

You walked out of the marui before anyone could say another word, leaving behind a silence so heavy that no one dared break it.

__________________________________________

[the-offical-dissapointment]

Can't wait for the romantic sub plot to start!!!

[mellarkslovergirl]

I'm still not over them

[itzzkaylaaa]

spider-man brand new day spoilers with no context