#is this what explaining that there are multiple robins feels like

[luvo27]

writing fanfiction is absurd. tell me why i'm putting more effort into making sure i know enough about the redwoods to write fic about them and have sources i can cite than i have ever put into reading character appearances or lining up issue numbers i referenced

[saintvainglorious]

Fics I Enjoyed in January - DC Comics Fic Rec List Part 2

I am still neck-deep in DC fandom this month and the fics have been so so good. Unlike last time, I am too tired to write mini summaries/reviews, so I'm going to feature my favorite quote from each fic instead.

My first DC Comics fic rec list is here!

Floor Plans by @oh-mother-of-darkness (Teen & Up, 1k, 2016) “I really didn’t want to die,” he finished. “I was kind of hoping if I laid here long enough, I would remember what that felt like.”

Losing two brothers in six months takes an emotional toll.

almost right by @bitimdrake (Teen & Up, 3k, 2020) He desperately wishes that he didn’t know what Dick’s cheekbone feels like under a gauntleted fist.

Bruce sucks in a breath, hand raising to fix the cowl. Dick flinches back.

but more with love by @danishsweethearts (Teen & Up, 3k, 2022) Dick wakes up one morning, groggy from a dream that he thinks might’ve been about the circus and also about his favourite car and also about how lonely he is, and realizes that he can’t remember what his mother’s voice sounds like anymore.

O Robin, Robin, wherefore art thou Robin?

The Mechanics of a Hug by @sohotthateveryonedied (General Audiences, 4k, 2017) “You know… that crushing sense of depression? Like,” Dick chews his lip. “It’s. A physical weight. Makes it hard to breathe?” “Yeah,” Tim says, soft. He smiles, wryly. “I sort of hoped you didn’t, though.”

“So,” Tim ventures. “It's… what, a cuddle pollen?” Bruce just shrugs. “Something like that.”

No Pain, All Gain by @sohotthateveryonedied (General Audiences, 1k, 2020) Tim’s eyes go even wider. “You stole my organs?” “Technically,” Jason chimes in, “the doctors stole your organs. We just gave them permission.”

Bruce checks Tim’s IV. “Are you in any pain? Do you need more morphine?” Tim’s pupils are so wide that only the faintest ring of blue can be seen. He watches Bruce the way a five-year-old watches cartoons. “I’m all good, B-dog. All Gucci, like we cool teens say." His words are slurred almost beyond recognition, but Tim doesn’t seem to notice or care. "I could fight Superman right now.”

The Wind Sits in the Shoulder of Your Sail by @birdchildsnest (Teen & Up, 7k, 2020) “Oh my god. Bruce. I can’t even tell if you’re serious. When everybody finally eats the rich—they’re going to eat you first.”

At least, back then, Tim had barely been a teenager. He could almost forgive his own volatility. And he’d been smart enough (scared enough?) not to tell Jack that he didn’t need him. What was his excuse now? Bruce was his dad (at least, in the legal sense), but (surprise, surprise) it turned out that Tim wasn’t any better at being a son. Or Tim and Bruce still have some things to sort through after the adoption.

I Left My Conscience On Your Front Doorstep by @dustorange (Teen & Up, 21k, 2022) He doesn’t want to be loved if being loved is like this.

"I think I'm leaving," Dick whispers. "I think I'm not coming back."

bad boys bad boys (whatcha gonna do) ♫ by @drakefeathers (Teen & Up, 20k, 2014) "They live their lives thinking they can charge through the city with the right to hurt and kill and destroy as many lives as they want. And they do it all without a shred of remorse." “But—” Damian begins, brow furrowed in confusion. “Isn’t that like you?”

a Jason and Damian as Batman and Robin AU!! featuring a bunch of graffiti, a rival dynamic duo, and Cat Jason (a cat named Jason).

The Biggest Mistake by @oh-mother-of-darkness (General Audiences, 1k, 2016) “I could ground him anyway, if it would make you feel better.” “He only said it because I called him ‘a garbage can so ineffective it actually became garbage.’”

"You know what really needs to be addressed? Bruce's truly terrible treatment of Damian." -Me, on a daily basis

been a number and a name by @wynterstars (Teen & Up, 35k, 2023) “Turns out if you just say ‘spacetime’ until people’s eyes glaze over they don’t really question anything you say. Also, somehow nobody expects me to be able to actually do enough math to explain it.”

On a field trip, Robin has a close encounter with the newest super in Metropolis, only to discover the hard way that Superboy secretly works for Lex Luthor. They agree to work together on a plan to free Superboy from Luthor’s hold, but Robin isn’t sure how far he can trust him—and his developing feelings only make things more complicated.

clean it like you mean it by @wynterstars (Teen & Up, 70k, 2024) "Wait, ugh, you're not my dead dad, right? If I'm getting a dying vision of my dead dad I want a do-over because he suuuuucked."

When Gotham's crooks have to scrub down their lairs, who do they call? Jason Todd, Gotham's first and only underworld crime scene cleaning specialist. He's spent his life dodging the Bat, but after a chance encounter he saves Robin's life. Tim Drake finds himself drawn to the conflicted rogue, and soon Jason becomes Robin's street informant. But they can only stay on opposite sides of the law for so long before something breaks.

3:16 by @wufflesvetinari (Teen & Up, 70k (WIP), 2023) “Try to decouple one thing from the other. I’m proud of you, but ice cream isn’t my grand statement about whether you’ve been good or bad today. Good things are good. Happiness is precious. Sometimes you just want caramel chocolate chip.”

The knife pushes thin along Dick’s carotid artery, cupping the indent between neck and jawline—forcing him to angle his chin. The metal is warm, pulled with execution speed from under Damian’s pillow. “Okay,” Dick says quietly, tracking the intricacies of his own heartbeat—counting the space between breaths. “Guess I did need a shave.” (With faltering steps, Dick and Damian become Batman and Robin.)

wolf-king of rome by @mysterycitrus (Not Rated, 25k, 2024) “You go after Joker, but you don’t kill him, because it’s not about the Joker dying, it’s about Bruce breaking his code for you. It’s about Bruce loving you enough to change himself for the worse. It’s about your idea of grieving.”

Jason doesn’t fear Dick Grayson. Fear itself has changed shape for him, since his return from the Pit - it tastes of dirt in his mouth, of drowning, of fire and blood and laughter, more than a tangible face. Still, he’d be stupid not to be cautious. Dick liked playing on an uneven field, and would do anything to keep him off balance, so he just had to stay focused. That’s the nature of the armistice, both waiting for the other to make a move. It’s like balancing on the head of a pin.

Declensions by @dustorange (Teen & Up, 13k, 2018) “Do not tell them your name. Do as I did to survive. I lied. I have always lied. Make one up. Do not let them have you. Say your name is…is…is…Richard Grayson. Or something. They are going to steal you; do not give them anything to steal.”

“My father,” Dick says, “worked the rope. It cut him. His hands were never clean.”

Passiontide by @bigdvmnhero (Teen & Up, 5k, 2025) Despite its faults, the day had tried to be good. He felt young, like someone's son.

On the 96th day Bruce didn't call, Dick remembered their old game. Three things he knew: 1) In three months, it would be Dick's death anniversary; 2) Bruce was still missing his check-ins; 3) Here Dick was, persisting. Imagine the things I'd survive, Dick thought distantly, if I loved Bruce less. Or: Agent 37 and his various crises of faith, on Day 277 at Spyral, Day 150, and Day -0.

the time you won your town the race by @silverwhittlingknife (Teen & Up, 4k (WIP), 2022) Tim. Tim is Dick’s. Death sharpens, clarifies these things. Who will receive the body, decide on the funeral, receive condolences, make all the decisions that matter. No one has questioned it, not even Tim’s friends. There’s a terrible clarity about death. If Dick said, let’s burn everything he owned, Alfred would do it.

He doesn’t know exactly what Tim would say. But he knows what Tim would do. Tim dies. Dick doesn’t take death for an answer. A Red Robin 12 AU.

door, opening by @cowboysorceror (Mature, 70k (WIP), 2024) Dick, with the keys to every locked door Jason has ever tried to open, tucked inside the cradle of his skull; all of that, snuffed out like a candle.

It’s barely audible, but he knows what he heard. A short, four-note whistle, chirping down – E, C#, then jumping up to A, F#, a little trill on the finish. He waits a moment, head turned slightly towards the dim shapes of storage containers between him and the ramp, eyes straining against the blackness. Long, stretching seconds. There it is again. His gloved hand, prickling with cold, closes into a fist. It’s a wood thrush. A small North American songbird that doesn’t sing at night, doesn’t live in the city. He knows what it means. It means hold, steady, not yet. It means wait for me, I’m behind you.

[iydiamartinx]

PAN-DEMONIUM II

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

divider by: cafekitsune & omi-resources word count: 1.2k synopsis: When your boyfriend forgets to mention his dad is the Batman, things can escalate quickly.  a/n: I wasn't planning on a part two but y'all asked, so here it is!

You hummed under your breath, barefoot on cool marble, sleeves of Jason’s hoodie rolled up to your elbows as you stood in the large kitchen, helping Alfred lay out breakfast. The older man had insisted—very politely—that you relax, but you’d ignored him in equally polite defiance and taken to slicing fruit while he worked on the eggs. Jason was upstairs showering, and everything was feeling domestic and peaceful.

“Would you be a dear and watch the eggs for a moment?” Alfred asked as he dried his hands on a dish towel. “I’ve just remembered the preserves need restocking.”

“Of course,” you said, offering him a warm smile as you stepped in front of the stovetop. The eggs were nearly done—edges crisping perfectly. 

They let out a gentle hiss as you stirred them. You were so focused on making sure they didn’t burn. You didn’t even hear the door creak open behind you.

You only realized that you were no longer alone when you heard footsteps approaching from behind.

“Back already?” you asked without looking up. “I think they’re just about—”

You turned.

And screamed as you saw a massive, dark figure looming behind you with ghost-pale eyes fixed on you.

You didn’t even think.

Instinct screamed through your body. Your hand snapped to the counter, grabbed the first thing you saw—the damn pan again—and swung.

CLANG.

The sound rang out like a gong in a cathedral.

The figure jerked back, staggering a half step as a low grunt escaped him—equal parts pain and surprise—as the pan connected with the side of his head.

All Bruce could think in that moment was, Thank God you hadn’t aimed for the jaw, like he’d advised last time. If you had, he’d be sporting a nasty burn in addition to what was already shaping up to be a mild concussion.

The eggs—once again utterly ruined—sailed from the pan in a slow, tragic arc and hit the wall with a wet splat, yolk and butter sliding down like the world’s saddest crime scene.

At that exact moment, Alfred stepped out of the pantry holding a jar of marmalade. He paused, blinked once, and sighed with the quiet resolve of a man who’d lived through way too many Bat-related mishaps.

“Oh dear,” he said, utterly unbothered. “Master Bruce, are you quite alright?”

You stared at him, arm still raised, pan trembling.. Then back to the man you’d just clocked. “Wait—Bruce?!”

Before anyone could clarify further, thudding footsteps sounded from the hallway—multiple sets, heavy and fast. A second later, the door slammed open as three figures rushed in, weapons drawn. They burst into the kitchen scanning for threats like they were about to face off with Gotham’s worst.

Nightwing with his glowing blue escrima sticks crackling with electricity. Red Robin, gripping his bo staff and finally Robin with his sword already halfway unsheathed.

“Is it Joker?!” Nightwing barked, eyes scanning the room.

“Where is he?!” Red Robin demanded, doing the same.

“Please tell me someone needs to die,” Robin muttered, his tone almost hopeful.

You screamed—again—reflexively, throwing the frying pan up like a shield.

And then—they all stopped.

Three pairs of masked eyes locked on the scene, Batman rubbing his head, Alfred calmly setting jam on the counter, you clutching a frying pan like your life depended on it, and the eggs completely and utterly ruined against the wall.

At that moment, Jason strolled into the kitchen, shirt half-tucked and hair damp from his shower. He also took one look at the scene and sighed.

“Again? Seriously?” He looked at Batman with a crooked grin. “B, you really need to announce yourself. Keep this up, and the rogues’ gallery is gonna find out and your reputation’s gonna tank.”

You, however, were spiralling.

“I—okay, someone needs to explain what the hell is going on,” you said, voice rising as you looked around in disbelief. “Why is Alfred calling him Bruce?! That’s Batman in the kitchen! Batman! And the rest of his team! Oh my god, am I about to have to fight all of you?! It was an accident! I swear! He keeps following me and—someone needs to put a bell on him! or—or better yet tell him to stop breaking into people’s houses! Wait—why are you all laughing?!”

Jason stepped in quickly, his smirk barely held in check as he gently pried the pan from your grip before you could land another accidental assault charge on Gotham’s most feared vigilante.

“Babe,” he said, tone low and soothing, like he was trying not to make you panic more than you already were. “That is Bruce. As in Bruce Wayne. My dad.”

You blinked. “What?”

“And those three?” He pointed behind him with his thumb. “Nightwing—Dick. Red Robin—Tim. And the family disappointment, Robin—Damian.”

“I heard that,” Damian snapped.

You stared at them, utterly dumbfounded. Then looked back at Bruce who was now rubbing his temple like this was more inconvenience than injury. The others casually pulled off their masks, and sure enough, there they were—Jason’s siblings. The same faces you’d seen over breakfast, teasing one another in sweatpants and hoodies. Now suited up in full tactical gear.

“You’re telling me…” you began slowly, turning toward Jason with a look of utter disbelief. Your voice cracked under the weight of your unraveling sanity. “Your entire family is made up of vigilantes and you just—forgot to mention that?”

Jason shrugged, unbothered, the corner of his mouth curling in amusement. “I was easing you into it all.”

You gawked at him, then at the others, then back to Bruce, and then back at Jason. Your eyes narrowed dangerously.

“Give me back that damn pan.”

Jason stepped just out of reach, hiding the pan behind his back like that might save him from your wrath. “Hell no! At least B had armour when you swung.”

You inhaled sharply, exhaled an equally sharp curse under your breath, and dragged a hand down your face. “I think I need to sit down.”

Without missing a beat, Bruce—still in full Bat-gear, cowl and all—muttered, “Preferably somewhere without cookware.”

Alfred, who had returned to plating toast like none of this was new to him, cleared his throat gently. “Shall I prepare ice for the swelling, sir?”

Bruce exhaled through his nose. Long-suffering because he was becoming way too old for this shit. “No. I think I’m just going to go to bed.”

He turned and walked out, cape swishing with whatever dignity he had remaining—which wasn’t much.

You stared after him in stunned silence, then turned back to Jason. “I’m gonna be banned from the manor now, aren’t I?”

Jason only grinned, sliding an arm around your shoulders and tugging you into his side like this was all perfectly normal. “Nah. You’re family now. It’s like… tradition.”

You looked up at him, deadpan. “Do all your family traditions involve blunt force trauma?”

“Only the fun ones.”

You lightly elbowed him in his side with a tired groan, glaring up at him. “I’m still half-tempted to hit you with the pan for not telling me all of this sooner.”

Jason smirked. “That’s fair. Just… at least give me a running headstart.”

From the other side of the kitchen, Tim—still in partial gear, bo staff casually propped against the counter—lifted an eyebrow. “So… when exactly are we making her a suit?”

Dick let out a laugh, arms folded across his chest, that mischievous glint lighting up his eyes. “I say we call her Cast Iron. Ooh! Or Pan-man!”

Jason groaned, rolling his eyes. “You seriously need to work on your names.”

“Says the one who practically named himself after Red Riding Hood,” Dick shot back with a smirk.

“Like you can speak, Disco-Wing,” Jason retorted.

Damian scoffed, cutting the two off as he turned on his heel. “She’s lucky Father didn’t counter the attack. You would’ve been mopping her off the floor.”

Jason’s expression darkened slightly. “Watch it, demon brat.”

But you only groaned louder, dragging both hands down your face. “I’m never living this down, am I?”

Jason looked back down at you and his face brightened as he grinned. “Not a chance.”

← Previous Chapter

Tag List: @sept3mberchild, @sascha-graves, @eepyfaerie

[earthtooz]

x : LUST FOR LIFE *+ﾟ

in which: sunday discovers a new emotion when he's under you.

warnings: 1.5k words, sunday is B(h)ORNY and doesn't know how to deal with it, he wants reader so bad, lowkey implied switch!sunday, gn!reader being sunday's freak awakening, NO SMUT BUT UNDER 16 DNI, not edited

a/n: five likes and i'll write nsfw for sunday

What good is a leader who can’t empathise with the lives of the people he was supposed to be leading?

This thought has plagued Sunday ever since he exiled himself from Penacony, since he joined the Astral Express in a journey of self-discovery and reflection, embracing the Nameless lifestyle so he can broaden the horizons that Penacony had restricted. There, he was so detached from the reality of the people he was trying to help, so trapped in a whirlwind of his own ideals to experience humanity, too buried in official duties to rejoice in the many wonders of the universe, the simple pleasures and the grandiose ones.

Since boarding, the former head of the Oak Family has experienced humiliation, desperation, and many close calls with death. It seems he underestimated how easily trouble found the Trailblazers, and the diary he carries with him has been updated with multiple entries, filled with exasperated recounts that ended with him being grateful that he is still well and unscathed.

Sunday has also experienced laughter, connection, and the bond of humankind- something he did not have before. When he controlled the Oak Family, had everyone under or at his fingertips, the only person he could depend on was himself. When Robin left to travel the cosmos, what was he to do than learn the bitter truth of independence and self-sufficiency? 

Yet, he sits on the couches of the Astral Express and there is bound to be another by him, trying to converse with him like an old friend. He is mentioned in the conversations like an individual who they keep around because they want to, not because he is crafty, not because of what he can offer. No, he can’t offer anything right now, and the crew still wants him to stay.

He learns more about humanity with each passing day.

However, perhaps one of the more puzzling feelings Sunday has had to confront was… infatuation. 

It’s a tricky feeling. It sends his heart into overdrive and his limbs to become jelly, and at the epicentre of this hurricane of uncharted territory, is you. 

“Sunday?” Your voice comes through muffled from the other side of the door. He almost jumps off his mattress at the sound. 

“Door is open,” he responds as calmly as possible, heart thrumming alive at the sound of your voice, beating in time with the rapid succession of your knocks. 

The door slides open slowly to reveal you on the other side. “Pom Pom just wanted to let everyone know that we will be jumping soon.” 

“I see, thank you for letting me know.”

“No problem,” your gaze then flickers to the angels that flock around him and he watches as your eyes gleam with fascination.

Then, without any hesitation or reluctance, you enter his room and approach him, the door sliding closed without your weight to hold it open. You stop before him without a bow, without a formal greeting of ‘Mr. Sunday’- no, you stop before him like an equal, which you most certainly are. In fact, he would even think of himself below you, but Sunday needs to unlearn this assumption of hierarchy, needs to not let it define the relationships he forms, even if he looks up to you and finds you reverent. 

“Hey, I’ve never seen these little guys before!” You exclaim, sticking out a hand to act like a perch for the angel-like summons. One of them flits up to you and stays on your outstretched finger. “Well, not this close, at least.”

It keens at your praise. Like owner like summon, Sunday supposes.

“I don’t tend to bring them out. They are for combat purposes,” he explains. 

Your eyes widen slightly. “Are you trying to pick a fight with me right now?” 

“What? No! That’s not it-”

“-I’m kidding, Sunday,” you snicker. “We’re friends, I wouldn’t want to fight you.”

“Right,” he exhales, “I wouldn’t want to fight you either.”

“Besides, we already did once.”

He freezes at the memory, remembers when he got hit with the exact train he is currently boarding. 

You, however, are unphased by the recollection, and even continue to rub salt in the wound. “I remember fighting against these little summons too, your owner was a real meanie, do you guys know that?” 

They flock around you, spinning and fluttering like little fireflies.  Instinctively, Sunday covers his flustered expression with his wings, and he doesn’t budge, even when he hears your laugh, the sound almost enough for him to melt into a puddle by your feet.

“Hey, hey, I was kidding, sorry if I took the joke too far.” 

He uncovers himself with an embarrassed sigh, not meeting your eyes. “It’s okay, I think the memory is just… humiliating, more than anything.”

“There are no more hard feelings. Everyone has accepted you on board and none of us think of you to be the same person you were when we first met, I promise.”

Your words are completely earnest, Sunday knows it, can feel it in the way you tell him so unabashedly. So who is he to deny it?

“Thank you,” he says, finally looking up at you, “it means a lot to hear that.” 

“I’ll say it as much as you need. Well, I’ll get out of your hair now, just prepare for the jump-”

Your sentence is interrupted by a shriek when you lose your footing, and Sunday feels it too, the force so strong that even he, while sitting, feels as if is being stretched and pulled into a miniscule hole. What he also feels is your body colliding on top of his, and his hands come to your waist to catch you in an attempt to prevent you from slipping, but it’s not enough and he’s falling with you onto the expanse of his made bed.

The Express is warping to some expanse of the universe, and his stomach drops at the sensation, spreading to the ends of his nerves before disappearing, just replaced by the extremely odd feeling of being pulled through the stars. He just hopes you’re comfortable, standing up whilst warping is tough, he heard the stories of when Stelle first tried to do it and how she fell flat on her face. 

When the feeling of normality returns and Sunday doesn’t feel like he has been stretched out, he opens his eyes and tries to take in the sight before him.

You. Your face. Centimetres away from his.

He’s always thought you were pretty, but seeing you this close… perhaps just pretty is an understatement. His gaze unwillingly flicks to your lips and he wished he hadn’t because suddenly the urge to sit up and lick into your mouth is raging; a fire that can’t be contained. 

Sunday wants you to push him down by the shoulders, with no gentleness or mercy, and just… devour him whole. His hands want to find you by the hips and pull you into him more than humanly possible, he wants you to indent yourself onto him so he can remember your taste forever, so that, in a way, you couldn’t ever leave him. 

Alternatively, he would happily flip around and pin you against the mattress. He would pry you open, explore the cavern of your mouth with his tongue and suck your sacred essence out of you so that it can stay and settle in his bones instead, replacing where marrow should be. He wants to lay you vulnerable so his hands can explore places only you want him to touch, wants to take you so that you stay forever, wants to feel your tongue against his, wants to hold your face and feel how you react when he takes his time cherishing you, revering you. 

This feeling is too much, these thoughts are overpowering, yet nothing has ever been more clear. Sunday wants you, lusts for you, even, and he’s never felt so intensely for someone before. 

How would the symphonies sound when they learn of the atrocities he wants to perform? 

Temptation holds him close and infects him with a desire so strong, he’s practically frozen in place as you recover from the shock, holding yourself up with your arms that were on either side of his head. 

“Ow, I’m sorry!” You immediately exclaim, before realising exactly what position you are in, your chests are pressed together, and you’re mortified to think about how close you were before you picked yourself off him, and- his… his hips… are pressed against yours- okay, you needed to leave as soon as possible.

You scramble off him like he had burnt you, frantically shouting apologies whilst doing so, the words clumsy and rushed, but neither of you can deny how you miss the warmth that was suddenly ripped away. 

(If he wanted to, you could have stayed in that position with him.)

Then, before you could get anymore thoughts, you turn and practically bolt out of his room without another word, leaving a hot and bothered Sunday behind.

© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[sparrows4bats]

@vi-reads Thanks for the Inspo!!

Damian is smart, a genius to rival his father, everyone knows that, but what even the batfamily didn't realise is just how qualified he is.

Damian spent at least the first 10 years of his life with access to a multitude of tutors who were forced to change their ciriculums to adapt to how fast he learnt. By the time he joins his family, he has the equivalent of PHDs in many fields, including but not limited to Geology, Business and Finance, Engineering, and Zoology. He learnt classical instruments such as the violin and is fluent in multiple languages.

Now imagine a preteen Damian going from that to a classroom education with his age group for the first time. No matter how elite Gotham Academy claims to be, there is only so much they can do to keep him stimulated, and as Bruce wants him to learn social skills, he is stuck in tedium.

So he looks for other outlets out of pure boredom. As the stagnantation gets worse, so does his attitude.

The first one to notice is Alfred, predictably. The old butler remembers how Bruce was at that age and the terror he was in his boredom, so he took Damian aside and offered him a deal. If he completes all of his schoolwork, how his teachers want him to. (It takes Damian only two hours a week) Alfred has no issue procuring him learning materials on any subject he would like. Damian so frustrated at this point, agrees without hesitation. The Manor quickly fills with university level textbooks on Physics, Chemical Engineering and Mathematics.

But soon that isn't enough, and Damian, despite knowing more than ever, has nothing to do with it.

He start seeking out the rogues after he finds their research. Ivy, Quinn, Freeze, and Scarecrow are very confused but so happy and flattered to talk about their work with Robin, who has fascinating ideas of his own.

Barbara is the next to notice because while she is taking inventory of Batcave supplies, she notices chemicals and other raw materials are going missing, so she checks the cameras and sees Damian making gadgets, different antidotes and poisons, even a second flying Batmobile!!

So Barbara confronts him about it and he (and Alfred) explain what's been going on and Barbara feels her heartbreak a little because God does she understand this problem she herself is always pursuing at least one qualification or writing a research paper under a puesdo name. When she was young, her boredom and the lack of accommodations in Gotham literally led to her becoming Batgirl.

A bored genius in Gotham is a recipe for disaster, so she very quickly sets Damian up with placement exams in every subject she can think of. He passes every single one of them at a high school level and many past university.

Damian looks elated when the results arrive, and Barbara easily convinces Harvard (where she did her law degree long distance) to accredit him and formalise his qualifications. They even work it so Damian can write his dissertations in Gotham Academy so that he can still gain social skills and go to Gotham University to use their labs and libraries when needed.

By the end of the year, Damian has earned his official PhD. in Geology and Mechanical Engineering and plans on doing his next one in Chemistry and Bioengineering. He even easily completes an MBA and starts branching out to the humanities.

The family doesn't know about any of this until Damian invites them all to his graduation, but do note the improvement in Damians' behaviour. (Damian keeps forging Bruces signature on the paperwork).

To say they are shocked but happy is an understatement. Bruce has a crisis because Damian has multiple PHDs in Gotham! What if he becomes a villain!

Yet all of Damians' research is for the betterment of people and animals. The batfamily becomes very overprotective of him, especially around chemicals. Just in case.

Jon finds out about it after Damian and he start dating. He knew his best friend was smart but hadn't taken him that seriously when they were kids. Damian went to Gotham Academy and hated every second of it.

After he slept over for the first time and couldn't find him in the morning, Jon located him in the Manor by his heartbeat to Damians study, where his degrees were framed and hung on the wall. He was in awe of how many there were.

Damian proudly explained each one to him, and Jon kissed his genius for every graduation he missed. He now calls Damian Doctor just to see him blush. (In the privacy of his own mind, Dr. And Mr Wayne Kent has a nice ring to it.)

Damian and Barbara bond and give feedback on eachothers work regularly. The bats who are still in school come to them for help, and Tim is inspired to get his GED and join a university program. (Alfred is Delighted) The Wayne Family Library expands rapidly to accommodate research materials, and Bruce builds Damian a proper lab. (It's so much easier to make antidotes now!)

When Damian goes to med school, he quits being Robin as he has to be there in person at odd hours. Bruce mopes, but goes to yet another graduation. Damian still does some lab work but finds his calling in Surgery and Medical Research.

The thing is, outside of the family, and even inside of it, very few know how many qualifications Damian has achieved.

Until one of the rare times Damian goes to Watchtower and someone tries to correct him as he explains the very complicated biochemical pathogen that is being spread by a new villain.

Damian looks bored and asks where they did their degree when other answers he goes, "Oh yes, I know your advisor. I disproved his shoddy results last month. I published my paper last week."

The hero turns bright red and tries to argue, but Damian shuts him down at every turn. "Well, the expert in this field - "

"Is me, so if you don't have a better idea, sit the hell down and shut up!"

The bats look so smug, and Jon has to restrain himself from dragging his wonderful partner into the nearest supply closet. (He finds Damian so irresistible when he is both competent and verbally evisirating someone.)

[emacrow]

Orphan's baby

Cass was in the middle of helping the Batfam along with Batman raids through the the hidden base they had found underground lab in an abandoned hospital messing with a neon verison of lararus pits liquid.

Red Robin had already adjacked the security and was going through the files with Spoiler. Nightwing and Red hood beating up the guards while batman was battling with the main boss behind it all.

She was with Robin as they were taking some samples and destroying the remaining ones.

She had already crack through most of seemingly important hidden rooms that seem to be hiding completely full with containers full of lararus pits with tags of PH4N70M, and a winter blue colored marble in a container sealed to the safe that was spelling out electricity every minute in the container.

It looked important, but why a marble..?

She broke the container holding the marble, taking most of the lararus pits containers as well while destroying the remaining unaware of the glow that pulsed in the marble.

By the time is was to retreat, everything was in the clear as Spoiler needed to unscramble hidden files that were behind multiples firewalls.

They were at the batcave when they were securing the containers of lararus pits for later sampling, only for the marble to be missing..?

She was sure that she place it in her bat waist pouch, but it wasn't there anymore..

Did she dropped it accidentally while collecting the containers of larausu pits?

It was already too late to check back now, so she decided not to tell anyone yet.

Until 2 months later, she started feeling downright sick nauseated. Right after Dinner of Alfred's infamous lasagna Tuesday, but.. it tasted a bland which was throwing her off completely.

She was only dropping down by the batcave to just self analysis herself.. only to stop walking half way the secure containement holding all the lararus pits that they brought back..

She couldn't stop herself from staring at it with vast hunger before the swirl of neon green filling her vision and blank her conscience out the window..

Only to wake up in her room on her bed, 3 empty containers with not a inch of lararus pits left inside as if it was wiped-or licked clean. She hide the containers under her bed and stood quiet later on as nobody had noticed yet what she had done.

She doesn't know what had happen, but the nausea and sick feeling went away as if nothing happen.

Hopefully it would be a one time thing...

Bruce and his long lines of lawyers had disbanded the GIW completely over the illegal experimentally on sentient aliens of another world which they tried to label them as ghosts until they tried to accused Superman of being one of them which quickly label their entire Government supported work as hate crime and was steady being searched, along finding a couple of missing traumatized teens, adults and children that had vanished the months before in the other hidden labs.

...

....

.....

She had her head in her hands as she silently groaned when she peak her eyes between her fingers to see several dozen empty containers and immediately close her eyes to try and pretend she didn't see them.

It only been 5 months since that incident and she had seemingly got away with it, but then nausea came back with vengeance like no other, and the increased appetite was new, but yet it didn't filled her belly with the bland taste or satisfaction even though she did felt a bit feint during the couple of night patrols despise feeling energized earlier.

Something was wrong and she know it as she went to the only person who could help her right now.

She went to Alfred straight away silently explaining the situation going on because she honestly have no idea was going on with her and she know she loves his food, and the feint spells, and the monsterous appetite and the insatiable need to swallow a crapton of lararus pits with twelve milkshakes and fourteen bags full bat burgers.

Alfred could only stared with his eyebrows raising slowly with every word spilling out of her mouth.

Alfred helped her get examined in the batcave medbay, and 2 hours later the blood result came in.

Case was pregnant, but It was a almost cryptic pregnancy.

Alfred didn't had the equipment out for a ultrasound at all yet, but from he know from Cass it was during the Raiding of that hidden lab and her being in contacted with this 'marble' that seemingly disappeared after she grabbed it.

That was 7 months ago, but luckily Alfred caught it in time before it literally became a cryptic pregnancy.

Oh the ultrasounds pics of the little baby fetus with his fast beating lil heart beating were precious as he got tiny misty eyes a bit compare to Cass's awestruck look staring at the screen then back at her belly.

He does help get extra vitamins pills, and call her off of Crime duty until further noticed . Bruce on the otherhand was concerned but all he got from Alfred was the You Better not investigate this because I have major blackmail of embarrassing toddler photos against you.

This is Alfred moment that he been waiting for since Bruce became a new adult but not yet sired a baby at the Wayne Manor at all. He is savoring this for the memories and scapebooking time. He is cranking opened that forgotten but clean baby nursery of forlorning hopes.

2 months later, By the time Cass was ready to deliver the baby on February 11, and at February 12th, 12:01am.

Wren Alf Cain was born premature yet crying softly into the word.

[heart-eyed-love]

Cigarettes, Driving Lessons, And Hurt Feelings

Summary | Eddie gets his feelings hurt when you go to someone else to help teach you how to drive. Even more so when its Steve Harrington.

Contains | Fem!Reader, Friends-to-Lovers, Cursing, mentions of having a period, jealousy, bad driver Eddie (hopefully i didn’t forget anything)

Word count | 3k

Cigarettes.

That was the only thing Eddie thought he’d be getting from the gas station. He didn't expect to be getting his feelings hurt there too.

He was already pulling a cigarette out of the pack once he exited the store. It was hanging loosely from his lips as he began to pull his lighter out, but he was quickly distracted by Steve Harrington's BMW parked across the lot.

He could tell it was Steve’s from the copious amount of times he had seen him come pick up Dustin from hellfire. And he’s definitely heard plenty about him.

Ever since Dustin had joined hellfire Steve has been a recurring topic in his life. Eddie had to sit through many lunch periods with Dustin babbling about how ‘cool’ and ‘badass’ Steve Harrington was. It was beyond annoying to be honest.

It made him more upset to see you so interested in these stories. The idea of one of his closest friends being enamored by the stupid stories of a douche was not something he was very keen on.

And especially since you’re already friends with Robin Buckley, who weirdly had sparked up a friendship with the king of himself. He always wondered if Steve ever tagged along on your outings with Robin.

You hadn’t informed him that he was your designated driver for just about all of them.

He wasn’t entirely sure when Steve started hanging out with all the freaks of Hawkins but he didn’t like the positive attention Steve was suddenly gaining from people who weren’t a part of the dark side.

So Eddie took it upon himself to be a pain in Steve’s ass every time he could.

A shit eating grin spreads across his face as he begins walking up from behind. Putting the cigarette away again.

As he approached the drivers side of the car, he noticed it wasn’t the side of the back of Steve's head he was walking up on. He slowed his pace.

Shit. Maybe this wasn’t his car?

But when the head in the seat moved just enough for Eddie to gauge the fact that it was you his eyes widened for a second.

Since when did you drive?!

Wait- Since when did you hang out with fucking Harrington!?!

The smirk that was once on his face was now lost at the sight of you in Steve’s car. Unfortunately, he had gotten close enough for you to see him. 

You turned your head at the sight of someone approaching in your peripheral vision. Surprised to see Eddie slowing his walk once he saw you. You nervously turned your head to Steve in the passenger seat and then back to Eddie, before rolling the window down.

“Uh- hey, Eddie. What’s up?” Your voice came off a little more nervously than you intended and you slightly cringed at yourself.

“Since when did you start driving?” Right to the point, you think. You could tell by the look on his face he was already a bit displeased with the situation at hand.

Eddie had offered to help teach you to drive multiple times, and you were always really grateful for that, even though you denied him every time. Never really explaining to him why not, but he never asked either.

“Yeah, uh- Steve offered to teach me so I took him up on it.” The awkward smile felt even weirder on your face when it’s directed at him. You and Eddie weren’t like this with each other.

Sure maybe at the beginning of your friendship you were awkward with each other, but that was a sweet awkward, this was an uncomfortable one.

Steve's head pops into Eddie's view with an awkward smile.

“Hey, man…” Steve says awkwardly, but somehow he still has that charm to him. Eddie straightens his body out slightly, trying to make himself bigger than he really is. Steve chuckles softly to himself as he leans back into his seat.

The small interaction going unnoticed by you as you fidget with your earring, waiting for Eddie to say something again. He was kind of making you feel like you had done something wrong, maybe you had…

It wasn’t anything personal, if you could have anyone teach you anything, you’d pick Eddie.

But just maybe not for this. 

Driving already freaked you out, and it didn’t help that the person who was offering to teach you was probably one of the most hectic drivers you knew.

You honestly had a really hard time believing he actually passed his drivers test. The way he flops you around in the passenger seat as he turns corners was enough to tell you if you were going to be taught how to drive, it wasn’t going to be by him. 

“Hey.” Eddie said, eyes flicking to Steve then back to you. You couldn’t tell exactly what he was feeling. It was making you feel weird, it was usually so easy for you to tell. “I’ve told you multiple times I could teach you how to drive.” 

You cringe a bit at his tone. And you are only able to come up with a lame excuse as your rebuttal. “Oh, yeah… I forgot…” Shit. You sound so fucking lame right now.

“Yeah, whatever…” He rolls his eyes as he looks over to the side before looking back to you. “I gotta get going, meeting up with Hellfire…” He says, but it’s a lie. He usually he would be eager to invite you with but, he wanted to make you feel bad, like how you just made him feel. “See you later.”

And he already walking away before you can even say ‘bye’ back, eyebrows furrowing as you watch him walk away and out of your view.

“Later man.” Steve shouted out so Eddie could hear him and he watched him walk away through his side mirror. “That was…interesting.”

You look over to Steve, “Do you think he’s mad?” You ask and the look of distress on your face goes unnoticed by Steve, who is still looking in the mirror watching something.

“Are you kidding?! he’s fucking pissed…” Steve giggles slightly, but hears a groan from you as you slump down in the driver's seat and he snaps his gaze to you. “Hey, I mean it’s not your fault…”

“Yes, it is. He offered to teach me so many times, I just- I didn't think he’d be upset…” 

Steve puts a comforting hand on your shoulder, and smiles. “Why do you think Dustin has me picking him up instead of having his new best friend, Eddie? Cause i think we all have gathered Eddie isn’t the most expertise driver…”

You roll your eyes, and a small smile spreads on your face as you look up at Steve. “You do realize that Dustin talks you up so much to us, right? Like I’m pretty sure the whole hellfire table has heard just about every cool thing you’ve probably ever done? He told us how badass you are…” Steve seems slightly taken aback by that.

He knew Dustin hadn’t told them everything, but the fact that he still thought he was cool enough, even without talking about his experiences with the upside down. It bumped his ego up.

“Henderson said that…?” A small smile tugs at his lips as well.

“Yeah, he really looks up to you. I think it pisses Eddie off…” You let out a small giggle and Steve's smile spreads fully. You could tell that definitely helped boost his ego a bit.

“Yeah, well I hear plenty about him too, so… the feelings are mutual.” You giggle at that. “So, do you feel okay with continuing the lesson?” You nod your head. Might as well, right.

Even with the slight hiccup in your plan, Steve’s stays dedicated and continues helping you with practicing. Though, you have a tough time getting Eddie out of your head.

And Eddie is already half way through town, speeding to get back home before you guys even pull out of the lot.

Recklessly driving down the gravel road of the trailer park. Nearly knocking his neighbors mailbox out from its spot again. Hastily parking his van in front of the trailer and slamming his door shut.

He was less than quiet when he walked inside. Unfortunately, for the older man that resided in the living room, sleeping the day away, over tired from his night shifts. “You could at least try and be quiet.” Eddie heard his uncle mutter from the couch in the dark living room, as Eddie threw his keys onto the counter.

“You were gonna be up in fifteen minutes anyways…” Eddie grumbled as looked at the clock before opening the fridge. Pulling out a beer for himself, and popping the lid off, then chugging some down.

“Kinda early for that isn’t it?” Wayne questioned as he began to rise on the couch where he had previously passed out. Lean against the back of the coach as he observed his nephew. Eddie just grumbled out a sound and Wayne eyed him harder.

“What’s the matter. What’s got ya actin’ all pouty?” His uncle finally asks.

“I’m not being pouty.” Eddie says back defensively, scrunching his face, his uncle’s eyes widened slightly and he chuckles.

“Yeah, sure you’re not…” Wayne chuckles again before heading off to the bathroom, and Eddie rolls his eyes. All he wanted to do right now was smoke a joint and lay in his room and stare at the ceiling.

So, that’s exactly what he did for the rest of the night. Just sitting on the fact that you were finally being taught how to drive… by someone other than him. And Steve Harrington nonetheless.

Would you still let him drive you around?

You finally pull into your driveway, parking Steve’s car.

“So… what’s the verdict?” You ask as you look over to him. 

“Honestly, you’re doing pretty good out there, we could just do like one more lesson, just to make you feel better though…” It was nice to hear. You’ve had about 3 lessons with him before this one, so yeah, it was nice to know you were getting better.

“Yeah, okay. That works…” You smile but it’s not fully, and Steve can tell something’s off.

“I promise you’ll do good, you don’t have to worry. You’re already natural…” He offers you a smile, comforting you for the second time that day. Wow, you felt pathetic.

“Thanks, but- I’m just nervous about Eddie…” You admit. The thought that Eddie could actually be upset with you right made your nerves rise.

In all of the time of you being friends you guys hadn’t really had any problems. Sure you bickered and teased, but that’s all in good fun. That’s part of what made you like him, like really like him, you weren’t like that with anyone else.

“It’ll be fine, I'm sure he’s just butt-hurt, teaching someone to drive is a big step…” He says as he begins unbuckling and opening up the passenger door. You rush to turn his car off and hop out as well.

“A big step…?” You ask as you round the hood of the car to meet him.

“Yeah, I guess it’s kind of a special thing, you know… it’s like we’re sending you off into the world…” He teases you with a chuckle and ruffles your hair.

You shove his arm away with playfully scoff.

“I’m just learning how to drive, it's not that deep…” You blush slightly.

“Yeah, well I'm sure he’s just worried that you aren’t gonna need him to drive you around or whatever, and he’s upset that he wasn't even the one who got to send you out…” He is still teasing you but his words somehow hit you deep. 

Shit. You just realized Eddie wasn’t gonna be driving you around everywhere anymore…

“Maybe I should apologize to him…” You admit softly.

“I mean, if that’s what feels right, then yeah, I'd say do it. It can’t hurt, I'm sure it’ll make him feel better about it…”

You nod your head softly, looking up to meet Steve’s eyes. “You know, thanks for all your emotional support today, you’re one of the last people i’d expect to get it from, but thanks…” You giggled as Steve’s brows furrowed for a second trying to hold back his smile.

“Yeah, whatever…” He says walking back towards the driver's side of his car. Smiling when you can’t see his face and he spins the keys around his finger. “One more lesson, then you’re off to take your drivers test, got it?” 

You smile and nod your head when he faces you. He gives a nod back before hopping back into his car, waving as he pulls out of your driveway.

You head back inside. Going over in your head what to say to Eddie. 

You settled on apologizing to him tomorrow at school. Doing it over the phone felt wrong.

The next day when you walk into the school building you wait for Eddie by his locker. He’s usually pretty slow at getting to school, it wasn’t surprising that it was taking awhile.

But then the bell rings and he still hasn’t arrived and you worry that maybe today is one of the days he decided to skip, and you wouldn’t be able to apologize.

You make your way to your first hours and through your other classes, leg anxiously bouncing throughout the day.

When you walk into your fourth hour and see Eddie sitting towards the back of the class you’re surprised. 

Wait?

He actually showed up today?

Was he avoiding you?

The seats around him have already been taken so you settle for the seat two over from his. He acknowledged as your eyes met when you walked towards your seat. But nothing was said.

As class went on you kept glancing over at him. He was actually writing down the notes the had written on the board.

Until the most recent glance over when you realize he's standing up from his desk and walking towards the teacher, asking to use the bathroom and the teacher waving him off with the flip of his hand.

And Eddie walked out of the classroom. This was your chance.

Were you gonna corner him? Yes. But you wouldn’t have to if he hadn’t been avoiding you.

A couple minutes pass you and stand from your seat, walking up to the teacher just as Eddie did.

“May I please use the restroom?” You ask as politely as you can, hoping he doesn’t apply the one person in the bathroom at a time rule.

“Once he gets back.” He muttered, writing something onto the board.

Fine. Time to pull out the big guns.

“Well, I'm actually having lady problems right now, so-“ He cuts you off with a more frantic wave of his hand as he motioned you your access to leave the room.

Once you exit the classroom you’re started by a voice next to you. “Lady problems?’ Eddie questions from next to you where he leans against the lockers. 

“I wanted to talk to you…” You say softly, as you approach him.

“I could tell, you kept looking over at me.”

You feel your cheeks burning slightly. 

Did he notice you do that all those other days too?

“You’re avoiding me.” You state simply, hoping maybe he’ll elaborate before you apologize.

“I wasn’t.” He says back, but your eyebrows furrow and he knows you know.

“Look, Eddie… I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings with all that driving stuff… I didn't mean to…” You finally admit, and you can see him soften slightly. Surprised by your apology.

“I just don't understand, I've offered to teach you…” His voice is soft, you've only ever heard it like that when he's talking to you. It makes you feel special to have such a privilege. “Or you just want Steve to teach you?” And sweet moment over, tone shifting slightly to accusatory.  

You roll your eyes, of course this was about being petty with Steve. “Eddie, I don’t care who teaches me to drive. I would, you know, just prefer to be taught by a good driver…”

He furrowed his eyebrows at your words, “I’m a good driver.” And you have to suppress the giggle that wants to slip from your lips. He notices though, and it only causes him to get more defensive, somehow furrowing his brows more. “Hey! I'm a good driver.”

“Dude,” Eddie narrows his eyes at the word, “You’re literally the most reckless driver I know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you going the speed limit.”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes, “I choose to drive that way, that doesn’t mean I can't drive well.”

“Well, this is news to me.”

There's a silence between you two as you stand in the hallway. You came out here to apologize, but you don’t feel like you’re doing a very good job at it. “Look, I am sorry, okay… I’m not trying to make you feel bad… Obviously I'd rather you teach than Steve.”

Eddie's features soften slightly. He knows that he’s being a pain in the ass, but he just couldn’t help getting his feelings hurt from the whole ordeal.

“I'm sorry…” Is all he knows to say. He's not always good with his words, he'd like to elaborate more on how he feels, but he doesn’t really think he can without making the big confessing.

“It’s okay, Eddie. I know it was a shitty move on my part, but I promise the only reason Steve is teaching me is because he has the driving skills of a mother with a baby on board...” You tease slightly, hoping the mood had shifted enough to be playful with him.

“I can be more careful, and I could teach you…” His voice is soft.

“I’m sure you could, but Steve’s taking me out driving one last time and then I’m going to take my test.” You smile softly up at him, and he rolls his eyes again. But you know him well enough to know it means nothing.

“Well…” He starts out raising his eyebrows and tilting his head at you, you raise your back in return, already worried for what he's about to request.

So here you are on a new day, opening the driver's door to Steve’s car and plop into your seat, prepared for your final driving practice before your test. You look over to Steve in the passenger seat with a smile. Then to the back seat where Eddie seats in the middle, leaning forward, sticking his head between the two seats.

“Ready?” You ask, smiling over at him, “You might wanna take some notes.”

[munsonfamilyband]

I have no time right now to elaborate too deeply on this thought but I just had a brain worm and I need to write it down before I forget. Who knows, I may elaborate and make this a whole thing with dialogue tonight, we’ll see. TW for depictions of Steve’s injuries post s4, vomiting, gore(?)

Steve refuses medical treatment at the end of s4, they drop off Eddie and he hides in plain site until it’s time to take Dustin and Robin home.

They stop at Dustin’s first, both he and Robin getting out to get Claudia Hugs (I just know she gives INCREDIBLE hugs). He drops Robin off at home with her promising to keep her walkie on their frequency. And then he goes home alone.

He tries to shower, it hurts his feet and back too much. He tries to change the “bandage” but just gently tugging almost makes him black out from pain. So he collapses on his bed and passes out.

Days go by, he’s trying to act normal, like he isn’t always running a fever and his sides are itching and starting to smell under the cologne he practically bathes in. It works for a few days at least, but Claudia gets suspicious by day 3 post earthquake when Steve shows up for lunch with flushed cheeks. 2 days later he doesn’t show up.

She drives over alone, Dustin is at the Wheeler’s, and she lets herself in with the key Steve gave her and Dustin after last summer. She calls his name, doesn’t get an answer but something smells off. She’s a nurse, she recognizes the scent of disease.

She hurries upstairs and finds Steve in bed, only wearing boxers and the filthy scrap of cloth wrapped around his stomach. He’s sweating and has vomited on himself at least twice, recently too. She immediately knows that he is what smells, she can see the pus and blood on his abdomen. He’s delirious, mumbling to himself and part of her wants to shut down and cry, to go cradle this boy, her son in all ways but blood, but she can’t. She steels herself and walks to his bedside to feel his forehead, almost recoiling from how hot his skin is.

As she keeps checking him over, she grabs the phone on his bedside table and calls 911, cradling the phone between her ear and shoulder to keep working. When the operator answers she explains who she is, where she is and what’s happening.

It’s a blur after that until she’s sitting in the hospital waiting room and she realizes that 1. her shirt and her hands reek of Steve’s blood, and 2. she’s completely alone in the waiting room. Swallowing her tears, Claudia goes over to the payphone and fishes out some coins to call the Buckely’s. Robin’s father picks up but quickly hands it over when Claudia mentions Steve.

She will never forget the choked off sound of pure distress Robin makes when she hears what’s happening.

Hours pass, Robin had arrived shortly after the call and her and Claudia have been curled up together in the waiting room every since. They haven’t called anyone else, haven’t even thought about it, too worried about Steve. Later, Claudia will remember the other kids who adore Steve, Hopper who treats Steve like a son. But in that moment, still not knowing if her boy is okay, she can’t.

Finally, a doctor steps out, clearly fresh from surgery, to speak with them. She explains that Steve had a very severe infection in multiple wounds, especially the ones on his side. They had to debride the wounds, which is what took so long. He was lucky that she found him when he did and that he hadn’t picked up any truly terrible bacteria. He hadn’t gone septic, thankfully, but he was going to be on seriously strong antibiotics for a while. She explained that he was in the ICU and they aren’t supposed to let anyone but family see him.

Claudia wanted to scream and sob and go find the Harringtons and get them to come see their son, but before she even says anything Robin explains that Steve’s parents had all but disowned him and her and Claudia were both in his emergency contacts, not his parents.

The doctor lets them see him. They have to wear face masks and gloves, but they can see him. Claudia had never seen him look so small. And there, in that ICU room, her and Robin both broke and started crying. That was how Jim Hopper found them when he arrived shortly after, the nurses having called him. He’s wearing a mask and gloves but his eyes are wild and scared. He nearly falls over when he sees Steve.

Steve is unconscious for almost two weeks, though the first four or five days or so were due to sedatives - the doctor wanted him to rest and let the antibiotics work. After he was taken off the sedatives he was moved out of the ICU, to a regular room where other people could visit. The kids came and decorated his room, even brought something Eddie had “commissioned” from Will (it looked like Steve ripping one of those creepy things from that alien movie apart, which she really didn’t get). Joyce brought him the quilt from her couch that he always enjoyed at movie nights and Robin came in every other day with his shampoo and conditioner to wash his hair for him (on days she didn’t come to wash his hair, she would come do something else with him. One day Claudia walked in on her painting his nails and her heart felt like it was melting).

The day he finally woke up was the first day Robin hadn’t been able to come. Her parents had forced her to take a break and get some sleep, so Claudia was there on her own just reading a book. She was so engrossed in it that she dropped it in shock when she heard the person on the bed in front of her make noise. Her eyes instantly went to Steve and she could see him scrunching up his face and groaning.

Claudia was by his side in a heartbeat, gently grabbing his hand and brushing a hand over his cheek, speaking softly to let him know she was there. His eyes slowly squinted open, clearly struggling to get the energy to move at all. Their eyes locked and his mouth twitched, like he wanted to smile at her. Then, as she was watching him with tears in her eyes, he opened his mouth and spoke for the first time in weeks.

“Mom….”

[edward-munson]

Hello! I wanted to request an angst-to-fluff fic with Steve Harrington and reader?

Maybe something along the lines of Steve's father saying something horrible about him that stays with him, and because he's struggling with his father's words, he becomes cruel to reader without realising it, taking out his anger at her, etc.. She lets it pass multiple times because she loves him. Until one day, he says something mean when she's just asking him for some of his time, and reader finally breaks and they have an argument that lets Steve realise how much he's been hurting her.

I love lots of angst as long as it is a happy ending!! my poor heart can't take sad endings. Lots of grovelling too!!!

Also i love your work, you write so well, and its so detailed. It makes my heart ache(in a good way) . ANYWAYS LOVE YOU

Hi!! Thank you so much for the compliment, I'm really glad you like my work and I appreciate it a lot!! 💖💖 Love that idea, it goes with the idea I've had recently, but I love the angst toward reader tbh.

Steve Harrington x f!reader

Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

Word count: 5k

-

Steve and you had been friends for as long as you could remember. You always did everything together; he would hold your hand whenever you hung out, whether it was at the cafeteria, bowling, or even when he walked you home. It was his love language, until he realized he was in love with you. It felt wrong, because what if it didn’t work? What if he broke your heart, or you broke his? He wouldn’t want to force anything.

He had thought about kissing you multiple times. Your eyes crinkle when you laugh too hard, and he can’t stop staring at your lips. Steve loves the way you are so carefree, how you treat your friends well and how you help everyone around you. He worships you in a way that’s almost unhealthy for him. His fingertips almost tingle when he touches you, his heart skips a beat, and his ears buzz. 

He loves you in more ways that he can actually explain. Steve doesn’t know you feel the same aggravating affection for him, but he started to become distant somehow. 

He had never been mean to you before. At least not in a serious way, only playfully. But he started giving you short answers, cold responses, eye rolls that you wouldn't notice. You two were close to each other ever since primary school, that's why you're always together.

He’s closer to you more than with anyone else. Even with Robin being his best friend as well. Whenever you would ask something, he would shrug and just say “yes” or “no”. It was weird for you, he was acting weird.

Steve punched his bedroom wall once after a call with his father. He completely forgot you were supposed to meet at his house to make pizza. You find him in the kitchen, holding his bleeding hand with his jaw tightened. The phone is still dangling off the hook, and you can see a small hole in the drywall.

Your eyebrows furrow. You blink once, twice, trying to take it all in, how shallow his breathing is. The way his fist is trembling even though it already made contact with something it shouldn’t have. 

“Steve?” Your voice is careful and soft. He doesn’t look at you, doesn’t flinch an inch.

You step forward slowly. “Hey. What happened?”

He scoffs under his breath, short and bitter “What do you think?”

You glance at his hand, his knuckles are a little scrapped with a red smear along the skin of two fingers that are already swelling. You grab a towel, dampen it, and step beside him, not touching him yet.

“Let me see.”

“I’m fine” he mutters.

“You’re bleeding.”

“I said I’m fine.”

You don’t listen. You reach out gently, carefully wrapping the cloth around his hand. The moment you touch him, he stiffens.

Your voice stays steady “Was it your dad?”

There’s silence, a pause that stretches and it’s uncomfortable.

Then a hiss of breath through his teeth “Doesn’t matter.”

You look up at him, but he doesn’t want to meet your eyes, he’s somewhere else. As if he’s in a daze and his mind is stuck on the previous words he heard through the phone. Something he didn’t deserve, something that has been said way too many times for his liking. He knows he shouldn’t care, he knows it’s not true. But he hears them so much, he’s starting to believe he’s not special.

“You’re not special, Steve” His dad had said “You’re a disappointment with good hair. That’s all people ever see.”

You hold his hand a little firmer, cleaning the blood from his knuckles “It matters to me.”

That’s when it breaks. He laughs sharply, it's as sharp as a knife.

“What, so you can feel bad for me?” He snaps, yanking his hand away “So you can play nurse and patch me up like I’m a little broken kid?”

Your hands still and you freeze, your mouth parting, but nothing comes out. He glares at you and his shoulders heave, Steve’s chest is tight with something he doesn’t know what to call. 

“You always do this. You always hover. Like you’re waiting for me to fall apart so you can swoop in and fix it.”

Your throat tightens “Steve–”

“I don’t need you to fix me!”

The silence that follows is loud and immediate. It buzzes in your ears like a slap.

Your voice comes out quiet. Hurt. “I’m not trying to fix you.”

He falters, and his face shifts for a second. There’s regret flashing like a crack of light through a storm, but it’s too late now. The damage is already there.

You take a step back “I just didn’t want you to bleed alone.”

His jaw tightens again.You nod slowly, heart squeezing in your chest “But if that’s how you see me... I’ll go.”

You turn, taking two steps forward when you hear him. It’s barely there, a whisper of him asking you to stay. 

You don’t turn around, even though you have stopped. “Don’t. I didn’t mean it. I just... I’m mad. And I don’t know where to put it. And it keeps coming back to me, and then to you, and I hate that I do this to you.”

His voice barely holds itself. You stay quiet, and he sighs “I called him. I thought maybe it’d be different this time. Maybe he’d say something, I don’t know, like he’s proud or he’s glad I’m okay. But he just said I’m still a waste of space.”

You feel the pain coming through his voice, your chest mourning for him. When he turns to look at you, his eyes are already red. His tone is shaking “I hit the wall because I couldn’t hit him. And you walked in and you’re just... you, and I panicked. I thought, ‘Why are you still here?’ Because if I were you, I’d have walked away already.”

You take a breath, walking right up to him, taking his injured hand again gently, as though it’s made of glass. You dab his skin carefully with the towel. 

“I’m here, Steve. Not because you’re perfect. Not because I want to fix you” You glance up at him and meet his eyes “I’m here because I love you. And that means staying when it’s hard. Not just when you’re charming, or sweet, or making pancakes at midnight.”

He swallows harshly “You shouldn’t have to stay when I’m like this.”

You smile sadly “Then stop giving me reasons to leave.”

And that’s when he almost breaks down. He presses his forehead to yours like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he lets go. 

“I’m sorry” He breathes. “For what I said. For pushing you. For being so scared all the time.”

You squeeze his hand, bruised and broken and still worth holding.

“I know,” You whisper. “Me too.”

It started slowly, when his dad showed up, he stopped meeting your eyes when you made sure he's okay. He just says he is okay and kisses your forehead, and you let it go. You thought things wouldn’t be so difficult, not when he apologized and seemed to be so regretful after that day. But you were wrong.

He cancelled plans with no explanation. Not just with you, but he knows it's harder if it's you, because you ask questions. Eddie doesn't. Not that he doesn't care, he fucking loves Steve. He just knows he needs some boundaries, so he lets it go.

It gets worse once. You've planned a picnic, you pack his favorite snacks, you borrow his mother's old blanket. It's how he feels closer to her sometimes. But he didn't seem to remember to have had plans with you, because he never showed up. You waited and waited. You called him when you got home and he never answered. You broke down after finishing brushing your teeth, when you finally laid in bed.

He was drinking with Jonathan, Eddie and Argyle. He wanted to distract himself from his issues and apparently, from you. He dodged questions when Eddie asked about you. He didn't even notice he was supposed to meet you earlier that day. While you're crying in bed, he's drowning his sorrows with alcohol.

He clenches his jaw when you're excited about something small, like a new song or a movie you want to watch with him. He tries to go out of his way to make it less bothering, but he can't. Steve feels pressured, he feels like he can't stay normal around you. Whenever he raises his voice at you, he startles you. 

You had called out his name and he snapped, like you were interrupting something important.

"What?" He asks, his tone is sharp and his jawline is clicked.

You had wanted to ask him if he wanted to grab milkshakes, but immediately regretted even thinking about it. You look down at your feet, he doesn't notice your sadness. You gave him some excuse to leave, to which he didn't wonder if it was true or not.

You still love him, though. So you stay. You hold onto the Steve who sang loudly in your car, the Steve who brought flowers to your job even though they were half-wilted, the Steve who kissed your knuckles as if he was a knight in shining armor. But even though he's been acting like an asshole, you know he's still in there.

His father's words etched in his head. And it stuck. Those words became something dark inside him. So when you reached out to him, for his time, for his attention, for his love– he heard accusation. Expectation. Pressure. He mistook your softness for judgment. And he lashed out.

You’re sitting cross-legged on the carpet of his living room, flipping through one of his old yearbooks while he sits on the couch, eyes glued to a TV he isn’t watching.

“Hey” You say gently, “can we do something together this weekend? Maybe just hang out? I feel like we haven’t really talked in a while.”

He doesn’t look at you.

You try again “Even just a walk? Or–”

“God” He says sharply all of a sudden “You’re always asking for something.”

Your heart drops, blinking “I’m sorry?”

He scoffs like it’s obvious “I’m tired, okay? I don’t need you clinging to me every second. I don’t have time to entertain every little mood you’re in.”

You freeze. You’re not sure what hurts more. His words, or the way he says them. Like you’re a burden. Like your love is annoying. He still doesn’t look at you.

You swallow, hard. There's a forming lump in your throat and you try to push it down “I’m not asking you to entertain me. I’m asking you to spend time with me. Because I miss you. Because I love you.”

That gets his attention. His eyes flicker to yours and he realizes something’s wrong. But it’s too late. You’re already standing.

“I let so many things slide, Steve. I let you ignore me. I let you snap at me. I told myself you were tired, or upset, or going through something. And I gave you space because I care about you.”

He opens his mouth, but you keep going.

“But I can’t keep loving someone who makes me feel like I’m a burden just for wanting to be around them.”

You wait for a response, but he doesn't say anything. He feels the pressure inside his chest, something tightening and a nauseating feeling of guilt.

You nod slowly "Okay, whatever. I guess that's it, right?"

You get up and grab your purse, looking over your shoulder for a second before leaving. The door closes harshly behind you, and it makes him flinch at the sound. Steve immediately gets up from the couch and flips the coffee table from his living room. This is not just his dad's fault. It's his fault as well. He's letting his words get into his head and he's losing his mind. The anger doesn't sip away, it stays there during the night.

Robin feels like she's in the middle of a crossed fire. She hears your complaints about him, she listens to his complaints about his father. She knows you're hurt, she knows he's hurt, and she doesn't know what to do. She tries to talk him into apologizing to you, but you have decided to give him the cold shoulder.

She ends up telling you what his father told him. She rambles so much, she always says something she shouldn't have. But maybe it was for the best. Because then you finally knew why he was being mean to you. You know how much of an asshole his father is. You feel bad for him, you feel sorry for him, and now you realize why he acted the way he did.

He had distanced himself from you and from his friends, despite all he wanted was some company. In frustration, he began to lash out at his father whenever he had the chance. One day, they got into a heated argument when his dad came home, and in a moment of anger, he punched his father. His dad landed a punch that split the skin on his cheek slightly. 

Steve was furious, because how would he hide that from anyone? He couldn't just say he fell. At Jonathan's birthday party, they all ask him what happened to his cheek and he finds an excuse no one actually suspects.

You sit on the couch with the girls. You're all gathered around Nancy, who just got the perfect gift for her boyfriend and she's so happy about it. You're happy for her. You're so happy, you're almost jealous. You've wanted that with Steve, you wanted to have something like that with him, but maybe you had misread something. Because if he truly wanted to date you, he wouldn't have treated you that way. No one would be bold enough to do that.

And he looks at you from across the kitchen while Eddie talks out of his mind. He's like a submachine gun of words. The other guys laugh and tap each other's chest when they agree with something. He's just standing there, sipping on his lukewarm beer like it's the most boring thing. Steve keeps drinking as if that would solve any problem in his life. 

He becomes short fused out of nowhere, because he starts thinking about things that make no sense. Nancy's father would never say she's a failure. Eddie's uncle is proud of him, even though he failed school and has his name stained. Jonathan's stepfather– Hopper, doesn't care he gets stoned and doesn't have the perfect job.

He looks down at his drink too many times, he stops listening to the chatting around him. He starts giving short answers to everyone, including Dustin, who's so dear to him. You meet his eyes a few times, he doesn't look like he's okay. He doesn't seem to be interested in being there. He doesn't know how to shut it all out. He gets drunk. Worse than that, he gets bored drunk. He sits on the kitchen island and stares at his drink. Steve doesn't even know what he's drinking anymore. Is it beer? Is it whiskey? Is it vodka?

You don't enjoy the party that much. You can't. Your eyes can't stop being pulled like a magnet at him. His eyes lack confidence, happiness. All because of his father. You follow him when you notice he left the kitchen. You find him sitting on the bench in the backyard, his head thrown back and his eyes shut. You sit beside him and he doesn't shift, he doesn't move. He knows it's you because of your smell, because of your calm presence.

“You okay?” You ask, even though you know he's not.

“Do you ever stop?” His voice comes out slurred, his cup is filled with margarita. Well, half of it. He's drank the first half in one swig.

You blink, confused “What?”

“You always need something. Always pushing, always wanting. It’s exhausting.”

The words don’t register at first. Your brain fumbles them. You look at him confused, your heartbeat skipping.

“I’m... asking to see you, Steve.”

“I’m tired” He snaps “I don’t need to be your entertainment every time you get bored or lonely.”

And there it is. That’s what breaks you, you look at him for a long second. Your mouth is parted, and your breath is caught in your throat.

“That’s what you think I am?” You whisper “A bored girl looking for a distraction?”

He exhales, already regretting it, but not enough to take it back.

You nod slowly “Wow.”

“I didn’t mean–”

“Yes, you did.” Your voice cracks, but you straighten your back “You’ve been meaning all of it, haven’t you? Every eye roll. Every cold shoulder. Every time I ask if you’re okay and you look at me like I’m annoying.”

He falls silent.

You keep going, and now your voice is shaking. “I let it slide because I thought you were hurting. Because I know you’ve got things buried deep. But this? This isn’t just a bad mood anymore, Steve. This is you making me feel like loving you is a burden”

His mouth opens slightly, like he’s going to speak, but there’s nothing. Just guilt. Just stunned silence.

You take a shaky breath. “All I ever wanted was time with you. I’m not asking for flowers. Or grand gestures. Just... you. And you treat me like I’m clingy. Like I’m too much.”

You turn, wiping a tear as it falls “Maybe I am. Too much. For you.”

You don’t expect him to stop you. So when his hand catches your wrist as you turn to leave, you flinch.

“I’m sorry” His voice cracks when he speaks and it makes you freeze.

“I didn’t mean it” He says again “I didn’t– God, I didn’t mean any of it.”

You stay still, not facing him. He steps in front of you, forcing you to see his face. Bloodshot eyes, which you don’t know if it’s from the drink or for suppressing his tears back.

“My dad said... he told me I’m nothing. Just a pretty face people keep around until they get bored. That people only want me when I’m fun, or happy, or convenient.” His voice trembles. “And I started believing it. So when you loved me anyway, I got scared. I pushed. I made it hard to love me, just to see if you’d go.”

You stare at him, tears blurring the edges of your vision.

“You were trying to make me leave.”

“I know” He whispers “And I hate myself for it. I don’t want to lose you.”

You shake your head “You hurt me, Steve.”

“I know.”

“You made me feel small.”

He nods, with tears slipping down his cheek “And you made me feel seen. And I punished you for it.”

You don’t answer.

He swallows hard “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

The silence stretches. A few minutes pass until he speaks up again, and this time it's like he wants to say it all out loud.

“I'm sorry” He says, a tear escaping his eyes that are closed “I'm so sorry if I'm such a fucking loser.”

You place a hand over his wrist, his knees keep bouncing as his head still falls back against the wall.

“Stevie” You say gently “You're not a loser. You're smart, you're gentle and caring. You work hard, you became better after school.”

You take the cup away from his hand and place it on the ground. You pull both his hands with yours and cradle his face, lowering his head. He doesn't open his eyes just yet, his brows crease when he tries to hold back his tears. But he just can't find strength to do that. He wants to cry, but he thinks he's just being weak.

He doesn't believe it, he never has. Because if that was true, his father wouldn't be so disappointed at him.“I'm sorry for acting like a total jackass with you. But I– My father keeps telling me I'm a fucking joke, he doesn't stop. We had a fight the other day, I threw a punch at him and he punched me back.”

“You're not even close to being anything he says you are. You are more than that, sunshine” He softens at the nickname. You have both called each other that ever since you made a deal when you were younger.

Your thumb brushes his skin gently and he leans into your touch “You have to stop listening to everything he says. He just wants to hurt you and you're giving him what he wants.”

Steve finally lets the tears roll. It falls easily, and you try to wipe them away, until he starts sobbing right in front of you. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you close to him in a tight hug. He keeps apologizing, hiccuping. His head digs into the crook of your neck and his crying comes out muffled. You stroke his hair and then let yourself cry as well. You have never seen him so broken before.

Finally, you speak.

“I don’t need perfect. I never did. But I need honesty. And I need someone who fights with me. Not against me.”

He nods pulling back just a little bit “Then let me fight for you. Let me earn back what I broke.”

You look at him, really look. He’s not perfect, he’s raw and flawed and scared. But this time, he’s trying.

You nod once, tears still falling “Then start now.”

He leans in, presses his forehead to yours, and breathes you in like you’re the only thing keeping him steady.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers. “I promise.”

Steve starts taking you out. He holds your hand as if he’s afraid you’re going to disappear. He brings you your favorite snacks at work, he picks up movies for you both to watch. When he knows his father is around, he doesn’t stay home, he stays with you. He ignores his father’s call at all costs. His mother has to call Nancy’s mother so she can talk to him, and sometimes he can hear his father in the background. 

And this time, when he holds you, it feels like he means it.

It doesn’t reach him like it did before, it doesn’t do much damage like it would. He’s still angry sometimes, his temper would swing at times, and he would have to hold back at some moments. But when he sees you, when he knows you are not letting him go, he lays it all down. 

On his birthday, he goes to The Hideout.  He’s in the booth, half-smiling because Robin had forced him into wearing a party hat, it’s crooked and ridiculous. His arms are folded on the table, his shoulders feel relaxed like it hasn’t been in a while. His face light up when he watches as you enter the place and approach the table with a gift for him. 

You slide into the booth beside him, nudging your shoulder against his “Birthday boy.”

He huffs a laugh “That’s me.” 

He looks older, a little tired, maybe. It’s not easy to have parents who don’t give you enough of their love, who aren’t proud of who you are. Who aren’t there when you need them. They didn’t even call and he’s not even surprised, he thinks being with his friends is enough already.

“Are you having fun?” You ask him gently and he nods. 

“I am” He nudges your shoulder back and you nod. 

A few minutes pass with Robin drunkenly singing into a beer bottle like it’s a mic, Eddie yelling “encore!” way too loud, and Mike and Lucas arguing about something you don’t care to understand. 

And then you reach into your bag and pull out a small package in a brown paper. It doesn’t have a bow or anything fancy, just your handwriting on a folded scrap saying “for you”.

Steve raises an eyebrow “You got me something?”

“Obviously” You say, with a smile on your face that can make his days so much better “What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t?”

He smiles, a little shy “The kind who’s already giving me way more than I deserve.”

You shake your head “Open it.”

He tries to ignore the way his heart thumps when you say “friend”, but you know it’s more than that. You just don’t have a title yet. 

He removes the paper carefully, not ripping it off, but he freezes when he sees what’s inside. 

A framed photo that looks a little blurry and kind of off-center. It’s you and him, on your back porch last fall. There are leaves everywhere and he laughs. He's literally cackling, and you’re squinting at him as you grin like a stupid 12 year old girl in love. Robin took it without either of you knowing.

There’s a handwritten note on the back of the frame, and he glances at you before opening. 

I know birthdays are hard sometimes. I know you still hear him sometimes. I just wanted you to have proof that you're loved. That you laugh like that. That you're someone people stay for. Especially me.

He swallows hard, his fingertips carefully grazing the edges of the picture. He’s quiet at first, they tighten around the frame and his eyes are locked on it, his jaw works a little and his breath trembles as he leans his head down. He presses it to your shoulder. 

“Thank you” He murmurs quietly “This… you didn’t have to…”

“I know. I wanted to.”

One of your hand tangles in his hair, the other one holds his hand under the table, your thumb brushes over his knuckles. He leans back and meets your eyes, smiling. A true smile, a kind one. 

Steve wanted to kiss you so bad that night, he longed for that. But he knew it wouldn't be the perfect timing, he wanted it to be good for both of you. Even though he can see how much you liked each other, and not just as friends.

“You make it easier. Being here, being myself.”

You rest your forehead against his “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

His heartbeat skyrockets when he kisses your cheek and places the photo back gently into the wrapping. Outside the booth, the band starts playing something truly awful. Someone throws a napkin. Dustin howls. Robin does a split that no one asked for. And Steve laughs, that same laugh from the photo. The one that makes your chest warm. It’s not a perfect night. But it’s a real one. And Steve, for once, lets it all in.

One night you were both sitting on the roof of his car, looking out at the vast starry sky. Airplanes passing by, trees rustling with the soft autumn wind. There's a blanket thrown over your shoulders, half for the breeze, half because he put it there without asking.

You haven’t spoken much tonight. And that’s okay. It’s not the kind of silence that feels like a wall anymore.

It’s the kind that feels like safety. The kind where you don’t need to fill the space to feel wanted. Steve's arm is resting behind you, long fingers tapping lightly against the metal of the car. You glance over at him, and he’s already looking at you. Not like he used to, not distracted or anxious or distant. Now he looks at you like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded.

His eyes soften, and he swallows. And when he speaks, his voice is quieter than the wind.

“I think I’ve been in love with you since before I even deserved to be.”

You blink in surprise, your heart starts beating faster. He feels nervous, his hands shake and he’s not sure he’s doing the right thing. Because Steve broke you many times already, he can’t keep doing that anymore. 

“I just didn’t know how to say it before. Or maybe I was scared that if I said it, you’d see right through me. I was scared I would throw everything away, ruin everything we had.”

You don't respond right away. You let it land, let the words sink into your chest.

Then, gently, you ask “Do you mean it?”

He nods, just once. And then, he locks his eyes on yours, with a whirlwind in his head. But he’s sure of it, he knows.

“I love you.”

There’s no hesitation. No bitterness clinging to the edges like before. No fear behind his eyes. Just this raw, open truth he’s finally ready to give you. It’s not the same love he usually shared with you, this one is different.

Your chest aches in the best possible way.

“I love you, too” You whisper “Even when it was hard. Even when it hurt.”

His hand slides up to your cheek, gently and expectantly “I’m so sorry for the ways I hurt you.”

“I know” You say, your lips curl and you lean into his touch “You’ve been showing me.”

There’s a pause there, you two are just breathing, feeling each other’s closeness. Steve sees how your face lights up when he strokes his thumb against your cheek.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, suddenly.

It’s such a Steve thing to ask. Always gentle, careful, almost shy. And it’s the easiest answer you’ve ever given.

“Yes.”

He leans in, slow, like he’s still half afraid you’ll disappear. His hand cradles the side of your face, thumb brushing just under your cheekbone, and when his lips meet yours, it’s soft, like he’s memorizing the shape of you before he ever dares deepen it. Your hands curl into his shirt without thinking. He kisses you like he’s been waiting months, even years, for permission.

Like he’s finally found something worth staying for. Like he means every word he’s ever said, and all the ones he couldn’t say until now. When you finally pull apart, he rests his forehead against yours, eyes closed.

“I’ve wanted that since the day I met you” He murmurs “But this... now... it feels like the first time I’m really me. And I’m so glad it’s you.”

You smile. And this time, when you kiss him, it’s not cautious or heavy or full of everything unsaid. It’s warm and certain, your tongues collide and there’s a million fireworks bursting inside of him. Inside of you. 

Two people choosing each other, finally, completely.

No fear, no walls.

Just love.

[ahoyimlosingmymind]

half-baked Jayrena fic that lives in my brain free of rent, that I'll probably never write:

It's bittersweet! But mostly sweet!!! LISTEN--

early high school romance, super juvenile and innocent, bonded over books and school work. Definitely each other's first scrape with anything 'romantic', and probably the first time Jason felt kind of normal in years. Rena is one of the few people who can say she knew 'Jason Todd' as he was before he died, and without knowing he was robin. (Although, she had her suspicions when he'd show up to school with bruises, or when he'd opt of of PE for the day, or when he'd come to her window late at night just to chat, out of breath with odd glue residue around his eyes. She's also heard robin laugh a few times, when he's swinging around with Batman. It sounds like Jason's laugh, but when she brings it up to Jason as a joke, he shrugs it off like "you must miss me a lot when I'm not around"). She's the only kid from Gotham academy that ever set foot in Wayne Manor by Jason's invitation, and the only kid Alfred can even recall Jason speaking about after school.

Jason tells her that he thinks he's in love with her. Rena thinks she feels something similar, but the words get a little caught in her throat, so she just leans forward on the bench where they're sitting, and kisses his cheek. And Jason turns scarlet.

But then Jason starts pulling away. It's out of the blue, with zero explanation. All she knows is that the last few times he's seen him, he's not really there. His eyes are glazed, he can't answer the question in literature when he's called on, and he doesn't find her outside of her locker between every class like usual. he starts missing days at school with no warning, and his assignments are getting turned in late-- he's missing rehearsals for the school show that she's running tech on. He has a small speaking role, so it doesn't affect much, but she knew he loved it. She gets a cryptic voicemail one night, and Jason's voice is stuffy and congested on the recording, and all he says is that Bruce isn't too happy with him, and that he's going out of a town for a bit because he wants to see if he can find his birth mom. "I'll be back before you know it... love ya." He says. And the message beeps to an abrupt close.

Her stomach is in knots. She was there when Jason first brought up searching for his biological mom. She was there when he looked at her with his sad baby blues and asked, "She must have had a good reason for it, right? Like if you were going to have a baby, what would have to happen in order for you to give it up?"

She calls the manor multiple times-- Alfred picks up once and explains that "Master Jason is currently occupied, but I shall let you know he called." And Alfred speaks like Jason is home-- but Rena knows he isn't. Bruce Wayne hasn't appeared in a tabloid in a little over a week. That's not normal.

She wakes up on April 27th, and she goes to school. And everyone is staring at her. Weird stares, that make your skin crawl, that make you feel like you can't really breathe. It's like the air is stale and somber around her, the school is quiet in a way it usually isn't. She walked deliberately to Jason's locker, because she always does, every day since he stopped showing up at hers. But he isn't there.

What is:

A bouquet of flowers, a cross, and a newspaper clipping.

Publication Date: April 27th, 6am.

The news has only been out for two hours, and there's already the beginnings of a memorial starting.

Rena's lungs are spasming in her chest as she reads the headline: "Bruce Wayne's Adopted son, Jason Todd-Wayne, Murdered by Notorious Mass-Murderer, The Joker." And the single image is older, from when Jason was twelve, on the steps of the courthouse he came out of the day he was adopted by Bruce Wayne.

She's so goddamn angry when the funeral is privatized. She's so angry when she wanders up to the Wayne cemetery gate, and all she can do is stare from afar as the grave-diggers erect that god-awful angel headstone, weeks after the funeral. She's so fucking mad when she calls the manor just to ask if there's anything she can do, and she receives no answer.

She listens to Jason's voicemail until her ears feel like they're bleeding, and all she is hollow and snot.

Because her boyfriend is dirt, and death, and maggots-- and she never said it back. Would he have still left, if she had just told him that she loved him too? That it wasn't even that she thought she might-- but that she knew she did?

Robin looks different. Some part of her feels certain that she knows why. That she was right all along.

Time doesn't really wait for grief, doesn't wait for you to pick yourself up and say "Yes, I have mourned enough. It is time to move." Time moves you before you even get your feet beneath yourself.

The rest of High school is a mind-numbing blur. She has flickers of happiness, she meets to new friends, guys ask for her number; but she can never give it, because there's only one phone on this fucked planet that she wants her number on, and it's the one that will never be picked up again. She goes to prom in a senior year-- refused in her junior, because she had had this stupid fantasy of going with him ever since he first held her hand.

She goes dress shopping with her girls, and she paints her face for the high school football games, and she joins speech and debate, and she doesn't touch theater tech ever again. She joins the yearbook with one goal in mind: and that's to make sure his face is on the senior page, and that he's acknowledged during graduation. And she can barely breathe when one guy laughs at her for caring, "He's dead. Not like it matters." She hears him mutter, and she jabs him hard in the side with her elbow as she passes in the hall.

On graduation, she arranges his seat beside her own, and flips off anyone who rolls their eyes when she stops them from sitting in it. She walks the stage alone, like everyone else. And feels the weight of the world on her shoulders when his name is called, and his picture goes up on the screen-- and she hollers and cheers through tears, because she remembers how badly he wanted to graduate and go to college.

For a moment, as she's leaving the ceremony, she swears she sees a boy-- a man? Who looks just like him, only he's got more scars and a white streak in his hair, and he vanishes before she can really think too much harder about it. And besides, Jason is dead. And that guy was so tall-- Jason was malnourished to hell, and he died small.

It's a Wayne Charity gala when she sees the same guy again. It's three years later. She's in her last year of college, studying social work, because Jason Todd inspired her like no one else.

But this guy-- a total wallflower, and he seems to know Dick Grayson, and Tim Drake-Wayne, and Damian Wayne. There's even a few times that Bruce Wayne stops to chat with the guy, and it looks oddly tense but it passes quickly.

But he looks just like him. Yes-- there's weird things, odd things that make her hesitate to be sure, like the hair, the size of him, the way his eyes don't look quite as blue-- but there's other things, a specific beauty mark just on the corner of his lip that Rena often thought about kissing, but held herself back because she was stupid, and regret is a bitch. There's also this divet in his cheek, right below his eye, and it's a scar she remembers reaching out to touch, on a face less weathered.

He's staring right at her.

And she knows she looks good, but she doesn't look that good. He's staring at her like she's oxygen and he hasn't breathed in years. And it's so much more mature than she remembers it.

And God is she fucking insane? Jason Todd is dead. Jason Todd is dead. Jason Todd is--

"You look like a boy I dated in high school." Rena blurts out, unsure of when she'd gotten so close. And she watches his expression shift and spasm, and whatever is going on looks like it hurts. "That's why I was staring." she adds, as if it will save the interaction somehow. It doesn't. And she chooses to make it worse. "He passed away. That's really why I'm staring."

"What was his name?" The guy asks, and even his voice has this awful familiarity to it. It's gruffer, deeper-- but the inflection? Something about it is so--

"Jason Todd." She says.

The guy's eyes widen, and he seems to choke on air for a minute, "You actually remember me?"

(ensue the most dramatic and heart-wrenching proper reunion ever, paired with Rena crying BUCKETS like "WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN YOU"VE BEEN ALIVE FOR ____ YEARS AND NEVER CAME AND FOUND ME?" And Jason is like "YOU DON"T KNOW WHAT I"VE BECOME!! WTF?? I Was just supposed to come back and put a ring on it, like I"m not a fucking murderer???" and she's like "YES???? THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT--" "How was I supposed to know you weren't dating anyone??" "PLS BE FR. All it would take is a quick look at my FB status to know I wasn't." "Okay but there was no guarantee you would have been happy to see me! And I wasn't exactly someone worth seeing" "oh my God I fucking loved u you dumb fuck")

later, when they've both calmed down: "You were at graduation." She says. He's quiet for a long time, before he replies, "Yeah, you made sure I was."

@glitter-stained low-key thought this might interest you bc ur into Jayrena bc ur CULTURED

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for Nat behind the cut; “the Last Son of Krypton meets Hypertime Kon”. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Oh,” Kon says, looking a little surprised by the question, so Clark thinks sitting in the armchair was probably for the best. Kon clearly isn’t sure how to respond to him either. “Uh–so like, I guess probably the jacket was tracking other people with the same DNA signature as it was programmed with, or like–usin’ us as anchors, maybe? ‘Cuz I wound up pretty much on top of, like, most of the other me’s that I met. First reality I got dumped in, that one’s me was a friggin’ Robin. Like, he called himself Superboy? But definitely the dude was a Robin. Had the mask and cape and everything. Had the utility belt, even, it was a total trip.” 

“He was?” Clark asks in surprise, then laughs and lightly jokes: “What, were that Batman and Superman doing a sidekick-exchange program?” 

Kon–blinks, a couple times, and looks a little–odd, maybe. 

“Um . . . no, it wasn't . . . and actually, uh, I think his reality probably didn’t have, uh, a Superman in it?” Kon says, wincing a little. “Like–not anymore, I mean. I guess a lot of the realities Black Zero’d made a move on didn’t actually have a Superman in ‘em anymore. At least not the ones he was actually, like, all-out going to war on. He’d never actually met one of you, apparently. Or at least never fought one? Well–actually, technically he did meet . . . look, it’s complicated. Hypertime is weird, basically.” 

Oh, Clark thinks, feeling a little struck as his chest clenches painfully. 

Hell. 

Well, that explains why Kon had looked odd over him making that comment. 

At least that reality’s Bruce had taken their Kon in–Clark assumes that version of him had arranged something with that version of Bruce, given the nature of their lifestyles, but also that’s just the kind of thing Bruce would do for a kid who needed it either way, so who really knows–so Clark at least doesn't have to worry about who’s taking care of that Kon, but the idea that there are multiple realities where he isn't there for the kid is . . . 

God, that's an awful idea. 

Just–obviously it's better that Kon exists, but who's taking care of those versions of him? Do they all have a Bruce, or a Ma and Pa? Do they have– 

( do they have a Lois, he thinks briefly, and then puts the thought aside. 

it's not fair, to ask Lois to give up children of her own. not fair to ask her to be with him when he can't give her that. not– )

“I suppose that makes sense,” he makes himself say, offering Kon the best smile he can manage. “I'd like to think if he'd met a version of me, they could've helped him before you ever had to deal with this.” 

“Uh–help him?” Kon asks, looking bewildered. “Dude, what? Like, he was literally trying to conquer literal Hypertime, how the fuck is that something you woulda wanted to help him do?” 

“I–no, kid, that's not what I meant,” Clark says, softening carefully and gentling his voice. Hell, what did the people who made him put in his head? “You said he had problems. That his reality wasn't safe for him. I'd like to think one of me could've helped him find a place that was. Kept him from hurting himself, and kept him from hurting other people too.”

[hood-ex]

Petition to end Dick and Damian as close because Damian is, “His Robin.” Why is everyone and their mom saying Dick and Damian are super close because they were batman and robin when Tim was “his Robin” as Batman first in Prodigal. With that in their history and being the closest thing to brothers first that makes them closer than some one forcefully dropped in Dick’s lap and they didn’t like each other.

When it’s explained why their favourite pair are Damian and Dick they may as well explain it’s Tim and Dick they’re looking for. Brothers-of-all-time. Father figure and son. Supported in tough cases. Batman and Robin.

Are you a Tim stan perchance? Because I hate to say it buuut... this reeks of jealousy. And like I get it, especially as someone who adores sibling characters, I get it. I understand why Tim stans in particular would be bitter about Damian coming in and being someone Dick ends up really caring about. It feels like Tim and Dick's relationship gets left in the dark to some extent, or it feels like it's overlooked, yada yada. I get it.

But. You're diminishing one relationship in favor of another when both relationships can be celebrated instead. Probably easier for a Dick stan because Dick stans are fed either way. Again, I get it.

You say Damian was forcefully dropped in Dick's lap (even though Dick ended up choosing to stay and take responsibility for Damian), but Tim also forced his way into Dick's life. I also don't know what scenes or stories you may be thinking of to compare Dick and Tim to a father and son. Even with the YJ issue where Dick shows up at the parent-teacher conference, it's more akin to Dick being like, "Bruce couldn't make it so I'm here." AKA dad couldn't come so big brother is here to fill in.

Also, Tim originally came on the scene to be Batman's partner. I mean, he wanted Dick to take Robin back after Jason's death, but circumstances led to him being Robin instead. Not Robin to Dick's Nightwing, but Robin to Bruce's Batman. That's why Tim is always going to be strongly associated as Bruce's Robin instead of Dick's Robin (well and because of Bruce and Tim's lengthy time as partners, obviously).

Damian didn't have Bruce to partner with when he became Robin, he had Dick. Their partnership took place across multiple titles with multiple stories. That's why people are going to associate Damian as Dick's Robin. Sure, you can say Tim was Dick's Robin as well, because he was, but let's be real, he's always going to be more of Bruce's Robin than anyone's. When people hear "Batman and Robin" in relation to Tim, they're going to immediately think of Bruce and Tim. When people hear "Batman and Robin" in relation to Damian, they're most likely going to think of Dick and Damian and then think of Damian and Bruce.

It's okay to say you favor Dick and Tim's relationship over Dick and Damian's relationship, but let's not act like Dick and Damian's relationship isn't distinct from Dick and Tim's. And let's not act like Dick and Damian can't or shouldn't be considered close because of their time as partners.

The issue you seem to have is Damian being perceived as having a better or closer relationship to Dick than Tim. Again, we can celebrate both relationships. Dick and Tim are close in their own way. Dick and Damian are close in their own way. It doesn't have to be one or the other, it can be and is both.

[kotoku]

ꜱᴜɴᴅᴀʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀɪɴᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ᴛᴇᴇɴ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

pairings - sunday & teen! reader / aventurine & teen! reader

content - reader is gender-neutral/not a lot of angst/mainly fluff/sibling or family dynamics/ kind of a found family fic (?)

warnings - none

⋘ ʟᴏᴀᴅɪɴɢ... ⋙

↻ I imagine Sunday meeting you as a bellhop working alongside Misha, another bellhop, who welcomes distant travelers to Penacony  

↺ If you’re a bit clumsy like Misha and accidentally spill some luggage after tripping over a hill in the rug, he’d stumble across your defeated form scattering to pick up the fallen belongings 

↺ He’d offer his assistance in organizing the fallen trolley, assessing if you had gotten hurt when you had tripped

↻ Because Sunday’s many responsibilities are to ensure people are following the rules and regulations during their stay in Penacony, he’d come across you on multiple occasions in the hotel lobby

↺ It seems like you were a fairly new worker, asking your coworkers about certain things and needing some guidance with doing things

↺ However, for the most part, you were an inquisitive and hard worker, Sunday noted

↻ One day, he would find you wandering Golden Hour, looking around at the shops curiously while holding a couple of bags

↺ He had conversed with you a couple of times, having small chats during breaks before the two of you had to return to your duties

↺ Sunday had decided to say hi, asking if you were enjoying some of the few renovations done to the dreamscape

↻ At first, you were startled at his sudden appearance, confused about why he approached you

↺ You would then answer his question, stating that you were enjoying some of the shops that had just opened up since it was your day off

↺ Sunday would give you a recommendation, a place that had recently been buzzing with customers as their food selection was one of the best Golden Hour had to offer

↺ Excitedly, you’d thank him for the tip and bid farewell to him, watching him fade in the distance

↻ When you and Sunday had gotten closer together, he’d kinda adopt you as a younger sibling

↻ On the days the both of you weren’t busy, he’d take you to see some of the events that are happening in Penacony (or different locations that he thinks you would like)

↺ Spending his time with you reminded him of the time he used to spend with Robin when the two of them were younger

↺ Watching you bubble with excitement when you saw something you liked, asking him if it was a good idea to get it reminded him of old times 

↻ One time, you jokingly call him old which made him reevaluate his life a bit (did he really seem that old??)

↺ You grew a bit worried when he didn’t respond, watching him hold his chin in deep thought (he snapped out of it after you shook him a bit)

↻ Sunday would take on the role of an older brother to you, fretting whenever you got injured while working and spoiling you rotten with trinkets he had found

↻ He would feel bad whenever he has to turn you down when he’s busy, promising to find a time when he is free from work to accompany you on what you’ve planned 

↺ If it was a limited-time event, he’d feel especially bad, planning to treat you to something to make up for the lost time (you tell him not to worry but he insists)

↻ Something that became routine for the both of you would be tea time (or going out to a restaurant)

↺ During these sessions, you and Sunday would talk about your week/day, basically spending the time talking and sometimes even gossiping about some of the rumors heard around Penacony

↺ You were careful about rumors that concerned The Family, not wanting to upset Sunday, so you mainly focused on small gossip circling around work

↻ Something that interested you about Sunday was his wings, and when the two of you hung out more, you asked him about them

↺ He explained to you about Halovians and the experiences he had with them (how he had to clean them, take care of them, etc…)

↺ If the two of you are closer enough, he’d allow you to touch them, chuckling as you gaped at them in amazement and wonder

↻ Sometimes when one of you is overworked and exhausted, the other would give a light scolding and have them rest on a nearby lounge chair, giving them a moment of rest 

↺ Sunday would offer you to rest on him, providing you his coat as a blanket and humming you to sleep 

↺ You would lead Sunday to his room, making sure he was resting comfortably after you brewed some tea for him (you’d softly close the door and resume your duties after making sure he was actually sleeping)

------

“I will be fine, _____. You do not need to worry about my well-being.” Sunday was seated on his couch in his lounge clothes, arms crossed as he watched you pour water into a kettle. 

Huffing, you turned on the heat and let the water boil, scavenging his cupboards for his tea packets. He couldn’t help but sigh when you ignored his protests, opting to lean against the couch and listen as you worked.

“You haven’t been getting much sleep for the past few days. I know that it’s been busy with the Charmony Festival in full swing, but you need to take care of yourself too, Sunday.” Setting down the finished cup of tea in front of him, you took a seat on a different chair next to him. 

Sunday blew on his tea, the smoke wafting away as he took a sip of the chamomile tea you brewed for him. 

There was a small silence between the both of you. You were fiddling with some of the accessories of your uniform, eyes cast towards the wooden coffee table. On the other hand, Sunday held his cup of tea with both of his hands, feeling the heat of the cup fade to a nice warmth. 

When Sunday had finished his tea, he set it down on the coffee table and relaxed into the soft material of the couch.

“I understand that you are concerned, _____. I promise to take better care of myself but know I will be fine.” Sunday assured you and your worries, opening his eyes to glance at you. You didn’t meet his eyes until you heard him get up from his spot on the couch, feeling a lightweight being put on your head. 

His hand lightly ruffles your hair, moving back to his side. “To ease your worries, I will be going to bed now.” 

You blinked at him before shaking your head. “Thanks, now get to bed old man.” “

I’m not that old, _____...” “Old man.” “Sigh…”

------

↻ Aventurine would meet you when you’ve just joined the IPC, becoming your superior and having you run errands or finish up paperwork 

↻ You, being the dedicated worker you are, would spend countless nights finishing projects and studying

↺ You would be so engrossed in reading something that you would accidentally bump into Aventurine from behind, stumbling back with your book falling to the floor 

↺ Massaging your temples, you would see a hand outstretched to you as an offer to help you up (which you graciously took)

↻ When you think back to that time when Aventurine helped you pick yourself up, along with your book, you flush in embarrassment and lightly berate yourself for not watching your surroundings

↻ Working with Aventurine had its perks and flaws, the perks being the pay and the flaws being the tasks and having someone so unpredictable as your boss

↺ You could never tell when Aventurine was joking or not (you found it hard to understand him so you just nodded along to the things he said)

↻ After a few months of working under him, the two of you started bonding over various things

↺ Although you were too young to gamble, you learned a couple tricks that Aventurine had when playing different card games with others (you also learned a few cheat hacks Aventurine does but we won’t talk about that)

↻ Aventurine was able to watch you slowly come out of your shell, becoming more talkative and friendly with him and your coworkers

↺ When he noticed your change in behavior, he was taken aback but was happy to embrace this newfound side of yours (he feels like a dad watching their child make friends)

↻ There is a hint of favoritism that Aventurine has with you, choosing to dote on you by purchasing various souvenirs and trinkets he gathered on his trips (they reminded him of you)

↺ A keychain? Consider it purchased. A snack basket? He already has it on hand. Aventurine spends his money like it’s nothing, especially when it comes to his kid (despite you being a teen, he still calls you ‘kid’ much to your dismay)

↻ Aventurine would definitely gossip with you about work, etc…

↻ Honestly, in a more modern (?) setting, he’d be that proud soccer mom who takes photos of his kid and boasts to the other soccer moms

↺ “You see that little rascal up there? That’s my kid!”

↻ At first, seeing you get along with Aventurine was a surprise to many, even Aventurine himself

↺ He didn’t really have friends, or at least, someone he could freely talk to about anything and everything

↺ He doesn’t really open up to you about his past until later, and even then, he tries not to be too descriptive as he doesn’t want to make you feel bad (but you still do)

↻ When you open up to Aventurine about your struggles, why you joined the IPC, etc.… he’ll see himself a bit in you, making him feel protective of you and this ultimately brings the both of you closer together

↻ Thinking about this dynamic the two of you share, Aventurine wonders if he would make for a good parent, despite the infamous reputation Sigonians have

↺ You’d notice him going quiet here and there as he looks like he’s deep in thought, waiting patiently for him to snap out of it, you’d watch as he resumes the conversation like nothing had happened

↻ If there is a chance you guys get to visit a planet together, especially if it is one that he is familiar with, he’ll give you a tour and take you to some of his favorite spots

↺ If it is one he isn’t familiar with, the two of you would look like lost children who are wandering around looking at popular spots

↻ Honestly, if you had the chance to meet Topaz, she wouldn’t understand how you can tolerate Aventurine’s behavior

↺ Nonetheless, Topaz is happy that her coworker has a connection with someone, finding the small family dynamic adorable (she’d never admit that to Aventurine)

↻ Of course, Aventurine would definitely tease you because you’re younger than him, acting like the annoying big brother he is

↺ “Huh!? Where did my chips go!? Aventurine!” “What~? Don’t look at me, I didn’t touch them.” “You’re such a liar! You have crumbs on your face! What– is that my drink that you’re holding!?” “...No..?” 

↻ Despite everything, you still enjoy spending time with your unexpected friend (and newfound family member)

------

“_____! Look at what I’ve brought~.” Aventurine sang, plopping a huge gift basket on top of your desk. The papers that were stacked fluttered a little, some falling around you onto the ground. 

You were startled at the unexpected gift, looking at all the luxurious gifts and snacks that were neatly displayed in a beautifully woven basket. The red and gold ribbon tying the clear bag at the top finished it nicely, giving it a clean yet expensive look. 

“Aventurine!? Just how much did you buy this for??” You gaped, examining the interior although the lightning made it a bit difficult to see. You could recognize a few items, all being pricey and popular on its original planet. 

“Bah! Don’t worry about it. I couldn’t help but get it since it included some of the things you were talking about before.” The way he was so casual about getting something expensive threw you off, but then again, this was Aventurine. Deciding to shake off the shock, you gave him a grateful smile. 

“Thank you, Aventurine.” “Don’t mention it, kid.” “I’m not a kid, Aventurine! If anything, you act more like one than me!” “Pff, good joke. Now get back to work, kid.” “Ugh.”

------

⋘ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ! ⋙

note - hope you guys enjoy this! i had fun writing this lol. there was actually two separate requests for an aventurine and sunday with a teen! reader, so i decided to write them together.

[ultimate-marysue]

How I feel my Batfam ships may or may not have children (please don't take me seriously I just need wholesomeness):

Dickkory: multiple bio kids, I'm pretty sure this is canon in some future/alternative universes. I think DC should set Kori free on a PTA meeting with no one explain to her the absurd social rules Karens set. The shitty mothers would hate her because she's over here, playing dumb on purpose until they're forced to admit they're just being annoying/egocentric and not actually asking to better their kid's education. Also, career day would be crazy considering Dick changes jobs every few months to get involved into whatever business he's investigating. Like, one year he's a cop, next he's a super model, next he's a college professor somehow. Kori thinks it's really funny so she insists on Dick being the one to go.

Dickbabs: they either don't have kids (just adopt a bunch of rescues) or maybe have one adoptive kid. Other than Cass who is Babs daughter I don't care what anyone thinks. Just Dick, Barbara and Barbara's daughter who is also Dick's sister. Also, Babs got lucky with Cass being homeschooled, the second she has to deal with the school system she's on the phone with the president blackmailing him to fix it. Easy to say, Dick deals with school exclusively from them on.

BabsDinah: they're the lesbian aunts (that end up doing a lot of the parenting because they can't help themselves). Like, neither of them would really want to have kids of their own, but the second a young vigilante with a shit ton of issues gets dropped in their doorstep it's on. Like, officially they'd be mentors, but they all see each other as family.

Stephcass: Cass is a ticking bomb, she's going to find an ex-murderer kid in need of guidance and just bring them home. Steph is not thrilled at first because they're so young still until she realizes "oh wait no, we're like, adult adults now" and then she has a crisis (unrelated to the child). Also Steph would love love to prove she's better than her father (but would be terrified of messing up). At first they're really chill but soon enough they turn it into a competition with the other Bats. Not a competition between their kids, mind you ("no Cass, that's bad parenting") but a competition of who's the best parent. Jason is terrified of them, but the rest are absolutely down.

Jayroy: asides from our beautiful wonderful and just overall fantastic Lian Harper, I think they might end up adopting some kids. What can I say? I think Jason should have Bruce's adoption gene, but specially for kids in dangerous/hard situations. I'm talking the older kids that never get adopted or younger kids with some sort of disability that need extra accomodations. I think Jason would try very hard to avoid them being vigilantes at least until they're 18. Roy is more chill with vigilantism because well, Lian turned out fine, but he respects Jason's opinion. Most important, no child of his is going to be a Robin to Bruce fucking Wayne. Also, everyone in the PTA would love them, they'd be super involved and Jason would make sure to bribe the appropriate people with muffins.

TimKon: test tube baby, not on purpose though. Like, I don't see Tim as someone actively wanting kids (especially not biological ones) and Kon wouldn't want his kid having to face the problems he did. But like, if Cadmus pulls some weird shit and there's a super baby for the taking, they would both want to make sure they give him the most loving upbringing possible. Another option is Tim accidentally creating their baby while trying to clone Kon while he was dead. That one's plausible and has a lot of angst hurt/comfort potential. Also, Teen Dad Tim after being extremely parentified during his early teens taking care of Bruce (while grieving everyone!) is evil , but a compelling kind of evil. Like a trainwreck you can't look away from.

TimBer: dual income no kids kinda queers. They're over here taking their various nephews to Olive Garden and Disneyland only to drop them off and go live their lovely stress free lives. They may adopt a kid, but that would be only when they really settled down. Let Tim enjoy his 20s (if he ever gets there) my boy has been through enough.

Dukeizzy: again, maybe it's because Duke's still pretty young so he hasn't showed much interest or inclination toward parenting, but I don't have a lot of info to go with. Personally either Dual income "take the kids to do airsoft" kinda uncle/aunt, I can see both of them being really good at giving advice to younger vigilantes (the whole situation of We Are Robin gives you a lot of insight in the power of child vigilantes separated from any mentors, so they're in a particular good spot to mediate between the kids and adults). In the case of them having kids, I think they should inherit Dukes autism (I love that headcanon) and both he and Izzy would be those parents making damn sure their kids get the accommodations they need specially at school. If their kids choose to become vigilantes you bet they're gonna be unionized.

Also, I don't have any particular ship for Damian but you bet that if that boy ever becomes a parent they'd be the softest, sweetest father in the world.

[lycheeloving]

I'm gonna turn this short little post into a multi-chaptered fic, yay! Here's chapter one. You wake up in the Batcave and you're a vigilante called Nightjar, but you don't know that because you don't remember anything at all. Let's go!

"—ou awake? Nightjar? Can you hear me?"

You open your eyes slowly. Every inch of your body is sore. What happened? You take in your surroundings. Is that some kind of cave?

The guy who spoke earlier is sitting next to you, looking slightly concerned. Why he's wearing a blue mask is beyond you. Or why he's wearing that weird outfit in general... Are you at a costume party in a cave?

"Hello?" He waves his hand in front of your face. "Can you hear what I'm saying?"

"Uh... Yes?"

"Oh, good. We were worried you had a serious concussion, but at least you seem to still understand me. What happened to you, by the way? We found you passed out after you stopped responding to us over comms. Batman is still out there trying to find who did this. If you told us who or what it was, he'd be a lot faster."

You owlishly blink up at him. What is this guy talking about? What the fuck is batman? Also, you were hoping he knew what happened, as you have absolutely no idea where you are or what you did. Or who you are, now that you think about it.

"Um... You really don't know what happened? Because I would love an explanation, actually." You try to sit up, but stop on account of your body feeling worse when you move. You should slow down a bit.

"You don't know what happened?" His eyebrows pinch. "...So you do have a concussion. That sucks. What's the last thing you remember?"

"...Waking up here?" You really don't remember anything else, despite trying really hard. Well, trying as hard as you can before your headache gets too bad.

"Haha, very funny Nightjar. I obviously mean before that."

"..." You just stare at him, and he seems to understand that you're serious.

"You're joking, right?" He starts looking slightly panicked. "What's my name?"

You grimace for a second, before responding: "Uh. Trick question! You haven't told me that yet!"

"Of course I've told you that! Just not today!" Now he looks really panicked. "You don't remember me? At all?"

"No.... But I guess us knowing each other makes more sense than you just being a random guy..."

He turns around and yells through the cave: "Robin! Inform Batman that Nightjar has amnesia!"

You wince at how loud he's being. Your poor ears.

A voice yells back: "What? Are you sure?"

"Yes, of course I'm sure! Inform Batman. Now." He sounds pretty serious. Seems like the amnesia thing is new. And bad.

He turns back to you. "Do you know your own name? What do you remember?"

"Uh. You just called me Nightjar, right? But that's not a normal name, so I assume it's a weird nickname? At least I hope it's not my actual name. But other than that I have no idea. About anything. Like, where we are. Why are we in a damp cave?" And what the hell is a nightjar? A jar you're only allowed to use at night? What a stupid name.

"That's... I'll explain that to you later. Wait here." Obviously you'll wait here, you don't know where else you would go. Also everything still hurts a bit. The guy leaves in the direction of the other voice you heard earlier.

You hear the sound of a car racing into the cave, and then screeching to a stop. Why is a car driving in the cave? Is that even safe?

You hear multiple voices loudly talking over each other, all various levels of upset, but you can't make out what exactly they're saying. The voices come closer, until you can make out the guy who was with you earlier and two other people. One short and dressed colorfully, one tall and dressed completely in black. Both wearing masks. Of course.

The closer they come, the quieter they get, until they completely stop talking as soon as they can see you.

As soon as they reach you, you say: "What is this, some kind of sad costume party?" None of them answer, all looking serious. Not the time for jokes, apparently.

You remember that you don't know what you're wearing, and reach up to check your own face. You're wearing a mask as well, but that's kind of what you expected. You try taking it off, but it appears to be stuck to your face. You tug at it, but it only pulls your skin forward with it. You try to get a nail under it, but all you get from that is a little electric shock. What the hell?

"TT. You were right, Grayson. They would never struggle with their mask like this if they hadn't lost their memories." The short one says, sounding kind of rude. What is his problem?

The one you already know, who's apparently called Grayson, sits down on the cot next to you and gently touches your mask.

"You have to grip the sides like this, see?" He manages to effortlessly get the mask off of your face by putting his fingers in specific places. You mutter a thank you as he presses it into your hands. You turn it around. It looks very similar to the ones the others are wearing. Well, except for that third guy, who has some cowl situation going on.

Now that you're thinking about him, the third guy (who would honestly look kind of scary if it weren't for the little ears on top of his head) has just been staring at you silently. You blink up at him.

"I like the little ears. They're cute." You mimic his little ears on your own head, which makes you discover that moving comes to you more easily now. You sit up a little bit.

He doesn't even crack a smile. "Hrn. We should scan for injuries. Usually I'd call J'Onn to check their mind, just in case the amnesia wasn't caused by damage to their head, but he's off-world right now, so that'll have to wait. Let's just hope that it really is due to natural causes."

"I don't even know any of your names and you're already talking about some John guy? How am I supposed to keep up?" You don't comment on his deep voice, because he doesn't seem to be in a good mood, but it really is super deep. Like, who does he think he is, Darth Vader?

The serious guy answers in a gruff voice: "Don't worry about it. Can you stand?"

You don't know, so you try to stand up. It's fine! You've seemingly mostly recovered from whatever happened, except for some soreness in your entire body still remaining, but nothing too bad. And the amnesia, of course.

You're led to some kind of medical equipment where they do all sorts of tests. (Robin doesn't stick around to see the results, mumbling something about "school tomorrow", before vanishing.)

There's nothing wrong with you that they can see, other than some cuts and bruises and sore muscles.

"It seems like the amnesia really was caused on purpose by whoever Nightjar was fighting earlier. Unfortunately I wasn't able to find any leads when I was inspecting the scene. I have already informed the others to be on the lookout, but we'll need all the help we can get if the amnesia doesn't go away by itself. I might have to call in the Justice League."

You never understand what the serious guy is talking about. Justice League? And who are 'the others'? This is getting annoying, you don't even know any of their names yet! Except for Grayson, you guess. And one of the two others is probably Robin, the one Grayson mentioned earlier. Probably the short guy, because the other one must be the one who arrived in the car. And his voice wasn't that deep when yelling back at Grayson earlier. Unless there's a fourth guy somewhere in the cave where you can't see...

You slump in your seat.

"Are we done here? I'm tired." You think for a second, remembering that you don't even know where you live. Where will you go? Where could you even sleep? Maybe on the cot you woke up on earlier? You turn around to look at it, not looking forward to spending an entire night on there. It's pretty uncomfortable, but better than sleeping on the floor, you guess. If you'll even be able to sleep with the constant bat squeaking.

"Yeah, we're done for now. I can take you upstairs. Come with me." Grayson says, standing up to lead the way, but the big guy stops him.

"We don't know who messed with their head. Maybe Nightjar has been compromised. They could be spying on us. It's best to keep them down here."

"You can't be serious! We don't even know how long they'd have to stay down here, it could take weeks until we figure this out! They're hurt and confused, we can't just leave them down here! There's nothing indicating that they've been compromised!" You like this Grayson guy, defending you like that.

"Better safe than sorry." You really don't like this tall guy. What reason would you have to spy on them? How important does he think he is?

A new voice pipes up. An older guy you haven't seen before, (but then again, who have you seen before?) he must have snuck in, as you didn't hear him. Or he's been here the whole time? He looks angry.

"Master Bruce, I will not allow you to force them to sleep down in the cave. It's bad enough that most nights at least one of you will sleep down here voluntarily. Your obviously hurt child deserves to sleep in their own bed."

"...Your child? What, are you my dad or something?" You look at the guy with the ears.

The old guy looks even angrier at that. "Don't tell me you have neglected to introduce yourself!" 

"There were more pressing matters at hand." Yeah right, Mr Ears.

"It seems to me like you were done with the medical tests. You couldn't even spare a second to explain anything?"

The old guy, who you're liking more and more, turns to you with a sympathetic look in his eyes.

"I'm Alfred. The young lad over there is your older brother Richard—"

Richard interrupts him: "Call me Dick." So he's not Grayson then? Interesting.

"The even younger lad you saw earlier is your younger brother Damian." He turns towards the tall guy with a stern look.

"And this incorrigible grump is your father Bruce, even if he doesn't act like it sometimes."

There's only one person left whose name you don't know yet.

"...and who am I?"

Alfred takes a second to compose himself, then tells you your name. He seems sad that you don't recognize it at all.

"So I'm not Nightjar?"

"You are Nightjar, but that's not all of who you are. We will explain more about that tomorrow. I will escort you to your room now, so you can get some sleep." He turns back to the other guys, who you're related to, apparently.

"I recommend that you two get some sleep as well, but past experiences have shown me that you won't take my advice."

He then leads you to some stairs, then up them, only for you to come out behind a grandfather clock. Woah! Secret entrance! How cool!

He leads you through a frankly giant house, then stops in front of a door.

"This is your room. I will leave you to it, but don't hesitate to yell for me if you need anything at all. Are you hungry? I can bring you something to eat before you retire."

He's so nice!

"Um, no thank you, Alfred. I'm not hungry, just tired. Thank you for showing me the way."

"Of course, my dear. I wish you a good night."

"Good night, Alfred." And with that, he leaves.

You open the door to what's supposed to be your room. It's huge, but you don't take the time to look around. You don't even turn on the lights, you just stumble towards the bed, pull the blankets over yourself and fall asleep in your weird, costumey clothes.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @corrodedcoffinfest May Mayhem Bingo event.

What Happened, Happened

Prompt: Time Travel Break-It Worse | Word Count: 1586 | Rating: M | CW: Canon Character Death, Other Temporary Character Deaths | POV: Steve | Relationship(s): Multiple Mentioned | Tags: Post S4, Time Travel/Time Loop, Eddie Died and Gareth Blames Steve, Steve Tries to Fix It, It Only Goes Downhill From There, Angst, Guilt, Bargaining, Regret, Acceptance

"He's dead because of you."

The words slap Steve, right in the goddamn face. He wants to take a step forward, refuses to look back, because what good could come from that? Nothing. None. 

He flinches, muscles twitching as he urges his body to just move. To get away from this. He lifts his foot—

"Hey! I'm talking to you!" 

Steve squeezes his eyes shut, stilling, and doesn't even have to turn around to know who's standing behind him. Barking hatred at his back.

"I know," Steve says quietly, folding his arms over his chest, as if that can protect him from the wrath of Gareth Jones.

This isn't the first time they've had a run in, and Steve's sure it won't be the last. He deserves it. He does. Eddie didn't listen, Eddie ran into danger after promising he wouldn't, but it's still Steve's fault for leaving him in that position in the first place. He should have known better.

Done better.

"It's my fault," Steve says, lowering his head, chin pointing towards his chest, trying to will the tears filling his eyes not to fall.

Gareth shoves him, and that's all the momentum he needs.

Steve runs.

The book is old, dusty and musty. The lady in the used bookstore pulled it out from under the desk, and then had to remove it from a lockbox. He's still not convinced it's actually capable of doing anything. Of changing anything. But he lays on his bed and thumbs through it. Looking. He's not so good with the Latin pronunciations, but he tries his best.

His best?

Clearly not good enough.

He wakes up in a world where Eddie still dies, but so did Dustin. It's worse. It's so much worse. Sitting on Claudia's couch, crying, trying to explain himself. The words are broken, and nonsensical, but he promises to fix it.

The book is in his desk drawer, and he tries again.

It jerks him back to 1983. 

That's not so bad. He supposes. He could start over, run it back to the beginning, fix things from the jump. Sure, back here he's not friends with Robin, nor Henderson, but Barb didn't die. 

Unfortunately, Will Byers did.

And listening to Nancy cry, wrapped up in Barb's arms, he figures out that while doing their sleuthing to uncover what happened to him, Lucas, Mike and Dustin all disappeared. 

Steve knows they're dead. He can feel it. Knows they were dragged down there, just like Barb had been. Like Will.

He digs in his desk, and the book is there, so he tries again.

In the next world, Eddie's some sort of monster serving at the side of Vecna. Not dead, finally. But all sharp teeth and claws. At least when he rips out Steve's neck, Steve thinks, thank god, this is over.

It's not over.

He's back on the sidewalk, and his hand instinctively reaches up to his neck. It's fine. He's fine. Everything's fine. 

Except it's not. 

"He's dead because of you."

"He is," Steve admits, and just walks away. He's got work to do it. Again.

Eddie's in a hospital bed, machines beeping, whirring. His friends, his uncle, sitting at his side.

He did it. He fucking did it. 

"Hey, Harrington," Gareth says, and Steve nods. "We hear we have you to thank for getting him here."

Steve nods. But he doesn't know. Doesn't remember.

That doesn't matter, he cannot believe it worked. Fucking finally.

"So, thanks. We owe you."

They don't owe him shit. 

"We're really sorry about Robin," Jeff says.

"And Nancy," Goodie adds.

Steve hangs his head, and nods. Of course. Of course this didn't work. It never does.

He takes a step closer to the bed, and picks up Eddie's hand, the one Gareth isn't holding.

Steve squeezes it, and leans close, whispering, "I'm sorry."

And then he turns and leaves.

He has to try again.

That goddamn book just keeps making things worse. None of the fixes are fixes at all. He needs to just get back to their regular baseline version of shitty, and then he'll destroy it. 

He needs help. 

Scaling the side of Nancy Wheeler's house was easier at seventeen than it is at twenty, that's for damn sure. Back before his body had been put through hell, repeatedly. He taps on her window, and she jumps in the air, clutching her chest. 

"The front door broken?" she asks through the glass.

He holds up the old, ratty book, pressing it against the window.

"This book is ruining my life. Help me."

Nancy is reading while he lays on her bed. Every time he tries to say anything she shushes him.

"You've time traveled, like really time traveled, and not just like we did going back in time by slipping into the Upside Down?"

"Yes. Really time traveled. I keep making things worse."

"Well, yes, Steve. That's what fucking around with things usually does, have we not learned that yet?"

"This is Gareth's fault," he huffs.

"Who's Gareth?" she asks, turning to look at him.

"Grade below you. Drummer. You know, Mike's friend. Eddie's friend."

She looks upward as if she's asking for help from above, "Gareth Jones. That little twerp is somehow responsible for…this?" 

Steve sighs, and flops over face first into her pillow. It still smells like her shampoo. He squeezes his eyes shut. If he just lays here and breathes, it can be before. Before Eddie died. Before Barb died.

Just.

Before.

"Steve. Tell me," she insists and he can't avoid her forever.

"He's dead because of me," Steve explains.

"Gareth?"

"No, Nance, Eddie!" he snaps, burying his face again. 

"That wasn't your fault. If he'd just listened—"

"—don't blame him," Steve interrupts. They aren't blaming Eddie. Steve can't do that. And if it's not Eddie's fault, it's Steve's.

"Well it sure as hell isn't your fault," she says, "and if that little shit says so again, I'll make him regret it."

Steve smiles, maybe for the first time since all this started. She would, too. She'd eat him for lunch. "Thanks, Nance."

She nods curtly. 

"Have you told Robin?" she asks, and Steve shakes his head. He hadn't wanted to involve her. What if something happens to her? He can't risk it.

She sits there, thinking, putting the unspoken pieces together, then asks, "What's wrong with this world?"

"Jonathan's gone," he says. The whole Byers family, just gone. He doesn't know what that means for the Upside Down, but he can feel it under his feet. Angry. Bubbling. 

Unfinished business.

"Who's Jonathan?" she asks, meeting his eyes.

Exactly.

"Your boyfriend," he says, and she tightens her grip on the book.

"How progressive of you," she says, holding up her hand. Flashing him a diamond ring. Teasing him. They're engaged. Fuck. 

Six nuggets and an RV.

He shakes his head, "Just read it, Nance. Figure it out. Please."

She translated, parsed, and then made him practice what he was supposed to say over and over. Nancy wasn't sure it'd work, and Steve could tell she didn't even believe him, not totally.

He holds the book in his hands, and recites it as close to perfect as he can. 

Steve's back on the sidewalk.

"He's dead because of you."

Steve's not doing this again, he wheels around, and Gareth takes a big step back. He must look pissed off, feral, something, because Gareth has never remotely backed down from him once since he was thrust into his life. 

"He's dead because this town is eating us from the inside out," Steve snaps, "and I'll feed you to it next, if you keep it up."

Jeff and Goodie appear behind him, coming out of the drug store, ice cream in hand. 

"Whoa, uh, we all good here?" Jeff asks, handing Gareth a cone that's already melting. It has dripped down Jeff's hand, and Jeff wipes it on his jeans.

"I don't know," Steve says, "I don't know anything. I did what I could. I did what I could," he repeats, and he can't cry. "I tried my best."

"We know that," Jeff says, looking around at his friends, "Don't we?"

Goodie nods, but Gareth just glares. 

"We know that. Right, Gare?" Jeff probes.

"I'm sorry it wasn't enough," Steve says, because he knows Gareth Jones is never gonna agree that he isn't responsible. And that's fair. It is.

He's not gonna try to make him.

And he doesn't. He just turns and walks away, needing to make the rounds, makes sure everybody is where they're supposed to be. Make sure this world isn't all fucked up, too.

Robin's home, and doesn't question why he's driving all over town, spying on their friends. Just hops in with him, and they see that Jonathan's car is in front of the Wheeler's. Henderson is with his friends, as he should be.

Max is blind, but alive. El is painting her fingernails out on the porch, but stops to wave at him, big and bright. The weight lifted off her shoulders. It's over, here.

Eddie's headstone is still in the cemetery. 

It's covered in spray paint, again.

"The stuff still in the trunk?" Robin asks, and Steve nods.

He can't fix what happened. 

What happened, happened.

But he can fix this.

He squats in front of the stone. He takes the spray bottle from her, and wets the stone, rivulets darkening the granite. Then he takes the brush and scrubs. Hard. 

Cleaning up the only mess that he can.

And if you want to write your own, or see more entries in this pop-up, check out @corrodedcoffinfest to see other entries for the May Mayhem Bingo Event!

Notes: I've already tried my hand at a time travel fix-it with All Across the Universe, so with this one, it was interesting to have Steve not be able to change things. Even if that is much sadder.

What happened, happened. 😭