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nightlychaotic · 2 years

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Under Control

He tilted her chin up, looking into her eyes with a grin. They seemed to glow blue in the lights for a moment.

"What do you think about getting out of here, Love?"

She nodded, a small smile forming as he led her outside. Neither reacted to the cold breeze as he took her a few blocks away and into the alley.

"Look at me, Love," he asked, smiling as she did exactly as asked with no hesitation. "Good girl," he murmured, fangs sliding out as he combed his fingers through her hair, grabbing it and pulling her head to the side to give him more access to her neck. He lightly grazed his fangs across her neck, her pulse strong and steady and so tempting-

"Stop."

He froze as the soft command seemed to ring through the alley way. Straightening and letting go of his hold on her.

She laughed, flipping their positions, pressing him against the alley wall.

"How-"

"Oh, Darling. You didn't really think you were the one in control here, did you?" She asked with a laugh. "So young to hold so much power."

"How would you know?"

"I know more than you think. I heard the new King of Vampires was in town. I thought I’d pay a visit. I have to say I'm not disappointed. Very impressive. You almost had me for a moment."

"What are you?"

"You have friends. Ask around."

She pushed away from him, starting to walk away.

He tried to move to go after her but couldn't move from where she'd left him.

"Who are you?" He demanded.

She glanced back, eyes glowing for a moment as she looked at him.

"Marinette," was her only answer as she turned the corner, calling "I'll see you around Dick. Tell John I say hi," over her shoulder as he felt his freedom to move return.

He moved, quickly making it to the mouth of the alley, glancing around.

She was gone.

—---------------------------

"Constantine."

"Dick Grayson. What does the bloody King of Vampires want from me?"

"You know."

"A regime change like that tends to send ripples in the magical community, mate."

"What can you tell me about a Marinette? Dark hair, blue eyes."

"Deceptive little vixen?"

"Yeah."

He heard Constantine's chuckle on the other side of the line.

"Necromancer. Powerful one at that. Talented. Heard some call her 'Queen of the Dead.' Take it she paid you a visit."

"Last night. Says hi by the way."

"Good luck with her, mate. She'll tear you to shreds if you're not careful."

"Thanks, Constantine."

A small huff was all he heard in response before the line went dead.

—---------------------------

It was three weeks before he saw her again. Not for a lack of trying on his part. He asked around and spent more and more time in the area they’d first met, to no avail. It seemed like she vanished or left town. But there she was, leaning against the alley wall. The same alley he’d taken her when they met. When she’d turned the tables on him and drove his curiosity through the roof.

She smiled spotting him, tilting her head up towards him a little bit as he drew near, her bright blue eyes unafraid to meet his own.

“Dick Grayson.”

He took her hand as he swept into a low bow, maintaining eye contact with her as he pressed a gentle kiss to the back of it.

“Your Majesty,” he whispered, lips brushing against the back of her hand.

She laughed, hooking a finger under his chin to draw him up. “I see you talked to Constantine. Did you get the answers you were looking for?”

“Some. Told me something else too.”

“Oh? What did he say?”

“That you’ll tear me to shreds if I’m not careful,” he told her, as she gave a small, amused, huff, tilting her head slightly.

“And what do you think, Darling?”

“I think that everyone has their shortcomings, Love. You just hide yours well.”

“Care to put that theory to the test?”

He grinned. “I would love to.”

“Let’s go then.”

She led him across the city, never looking back to check he was following, never doubting that he was.

He didn’t know if she could sense his presence somehow or if she was just that confident that he’d follow.

It didn’t take long for the pair of them to make it to her apartment, and her to invite him in with a grin. It wasn’t the nicest location, but he guessed by the view of the graveyard from her window, she was exactly where she wanted to be.

“Make yourself at home. I have some blood if you’re thirsty. Fresh as well.”

“Is it yours?”

“You wish.”

“I do. I was looking forward to having a taste when we met.”

“How disappointed you must have been.”

“I wouldn’t say that. After all, I met you, and learned a fair bit more about what else is out there in return.”

“I’m glad to hear it. If you have any questions or care to do some reading, I have plenty of tomes and books on a variety of subjects. Feel free to take a look,” she offered, leaving him to rummage in the kitchen, emerging with a small plate of cookies for herself and some blood for him.

“So you’re a Necromancer.”

“I am. I imagine you have questions that you didn’t ask John.”

“I do.”

“Ask away.”

—---------------------------

After that night, she started to crop up a lot more often, finding him while he was out, or he’d just miss her, her presence and scent still thick in the air. He also found himself stopping by her apartment more often, reading up and watching her cast her magics. He was weak to her and they both knew that.

A fact Dick was still grasping at and Marinette enjoyed.

"You seem scared, Darling," she said softly, looking up at him.

"I'm scared of the love I have for you," he said as she gently cupped his cheek, smiling as he leant into her touch. "Because I know it will ruin me. And I also know that I will let it."

She trailed her hand down, hooking her finger under his chin as she pulled him in, catching his lips with her own before pulling away with a small smirk.

"Let's ruin you then, shall we?"

She backed away slowly, her finger lingering under his chin before pulling away as she turned, walking away, trusting he would follow.

He was doomed.

And he was absolutely fine with that.

By the time he’d found the strength to follow her down the hallway she’d already slipped into a nightgown and taken her hair down, seeming oblivious as he lingered in the doorway, watching as she sat on the edge of the bed, brushing her hair back and over one shoulder, idly combing her finger through as she tilted her head to the side, baring her neck to him.

It was tantalizing. Bared to him. Long and flawless. He licked his lips absentmindedly.

Her laugh was like music, breaking through his thoughts as she looked over at him, a ghost of a smile danced on her lips as her eyes met his.

"Would you like a taste, Darling?"

“Are you sure?”

“Come now. I’m not cruel enough to offer you a taste and then deny you it immediately after.”

He moved, joining her on the bed, gently combing his fingers through her hair as she angled herself to face him. He leaned in, pressing a trail of kisses down her neck before coming back up and lightly pressing a kiss there once more before scraping his teeth over the area, enjoying the slight way she tensed in anticipation. He bit down gently, gently pulling at the skin, her pulse rising as he did so.

“I didn’t realize you’d be such a tease, Darling,” she said softly, humor and impatience coloring her voice slightly.

“It’s only fair, Love. You’ve teased me since we first met. Besides, there’s no need to rush this,” he murmured, running his hand through her hair once more, tangling his fingers in her hair and tugging her head further to the side slightly as he scraped his fangs against her neck once more before finally biting down.

She gave a sharp gasp as his fangs sank into her neck, melting into his touch as the sweet, metallic taste flooded his mouth. Her blood tasted how ambrosia must have. It was a nectar akin to what the gods of old drank.

He savored the taste before finally removing his fangs from her neck, licking the blood from the wound and pressing a kiss to the wound, gently laying her down in the bed, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face as she looked up at him with half-lidded eyes and a small smirk.

“I hope that was worth the wait, Darling.”

“Oh, more than worth it. How are you feeling, Love?”

“Good. The most a Bite has affected me in a while,” she told him, pushing up into a sitting position before standing.

Steadier on her feet than Dick would have expected considering how much blood he had taken from her, crossing to the bathroom. She paused, craning her neck in the mirror to find the marks held left along her neck, focusing on the puncture wounds in her neck tracing a finger over them gently.

He watched as she got ready for bed, at one point glancing back to look at him before returning her attention to what she was doing.

“Are you going to stare this whole time or will you be getting ready and joining me in bed as well?”

That got him moving as she laughed, sliding under the covers, her turn to watch before he joined her.

“We’ll have to do that more often,” she whispered, before closing the short distance between the two of them for a kiss.

“Yes we will,” he agreed, hesitating a moment before continuing. "You never were enthralled by me."

"No. I wasn't. Impressive how close you got though."

"I must admit you are a very talented actor. You had me fooled. Though it is a shame."

"What is?"

"That you weren't under my thrall."

"Is that so."

"I want to see you look at me as if I'm your whole world."

“Make me then.”

“You won’t let me.”

“No. I won’t. Good luck, Darling.”

“And you as well, Love.”

—---------------------------

For all her talk of saying how close Dick came to enthralling her, she was incredibly difficult to catch off guard, at a point where it seemed laughably easy for her to throw his hypnosis off or turn it against him. Surprise, right before bed, or while she was mid-task were all met with a soft laugh and grin.

When they spent the nights together, she was typically the first to wake, getting up in the early afternoon to get a handful of things done in the daylight.

But considering how much of a night owl she was, he was almost positive she wouldn’t be a morning person. And that was a weakness he could use to his advantage.

“Good Morning, Love.”

“Mmmmm?”

Slowly her eyes began to flutter open, glancing around lazily for a moment before settling on him.

“Mm, You’re up early,” she muttered, as she sat up, brushing hair from her face and began to comb it over her shoulder as he reached over, catching her chin and turning her head towards him, catching her lips in a kiss before pulling away with a grin.

“I wanted to catch you.”

“What?” her voice was still a little hoarse from waking up, but the confusion was evident regardless.

He gave a soft laugh as he tilted her head up, eyes meeting hers. “You’re so cute when you aren’t quite awake, Love. Still a little out of it and confused. Focus on me for a moment. Just relax. There we go. Eyes on me, Love. Just keep your eyes on me.”

She sat there, statuesque as he spoke, staring into his eyes, a ghost of a smile, far softer than her usual, pulled at her lips as her hand slowly fell from where they’d been running through her hair. He let go of her chin watching as her head listed back slightly, baring her neck to him.

She had eyes only for him, never leaving him as he moved closer. He gently cupped her cheek with one hand, running his thumb over her lower lip, smiling as she leant into his touch. He traced his hand back, tucking her hair behind her ear, as he trailed kisses around her neck, leaving marks behind, fangs sliding out as he combed his fingers through her hair, grabbing it and pulling her head to the side to give him more access to her neck. He lightly grazed his fangs across her neck, her pulse strong and steady and so tempting.

He sank his teeth into her throat, closing his eyes as he tasted her, the sweet ambrosia of her blood better than he remembered. Enticing and sweet and his. If anyone thought he’d let them taste her blood they were solely mistaken.

He pressed gentle kisses to the bite when he was finished, licking her neck clean from the blood.

“That was nice, wasn’t it, My Love?”

“Mhmmm,” she hummed in agreement, as he gently ran his thumb over the bite marks on her neck, laying her down.

“You look so tired. Sleep, My Love. Get some rest,” he murmured, watching her eyes flutter shut before pressing a kiss to her forehead.

—-

She woke up slowly the second time, but without the haze of a long sleep and instead the sharp clarity of coming out of a hypnosis. Glancing around the room, she was only mildly surprised to find that Dick wasn’t still in there with her. He wouldn’t have left yet. Traces of the sun could still potentially be a problem at this time of day, and he’d been getting more and more reluctant to leave her lately.

She found him in the living room, thumbing through one of her tomes, glancing up with a grin as she came in.

“Good Morning, My Love. How are you feeling?”

She laughed, eyes flashed that same blue glow he’d come to associate with her necromancy as she looked at him.

“Aren’t you clever, Darling? Enthralling me when I’ve just woken up. I never expected you to go that route.”

“I know. That’s why I did.”

“And I see you took the time to add some pretty little marks along my neck.”

His smile was unapologetic as his eyes flicked down to her neck, tracing the path he’d left behind. “What can I say? I like seeing my marks on your neck. Feeling you melt at my bite. Seeing you look at me like nothing else exists. The fact that you taste heavenly is simply an added bonus, My Love.”

“Getting a bit possessive now, are we?”

“If you were anyone else you’d already be mine.”

“There’s the side of Your Highness that I’ve heard so much about. I was starting to wonder when it would make an appearance.”

“Was it not there when we first met?”

“When you thought I was just your next meal? No. It wasn’t.”

“Which is what you wanted the whole time.”

She laughed. “Perhaps. You remained startlingly docile after the fact, however. And I have to wonder if it was a form of diplomacy.”

“Burning curiosity and desire.”

“Ah, That will do it.”

“You were hard to find after that night. I looked. I tried to track you down. No one could give me anything on your whereabouts.”

“A few of your people did find me. Not that they remember the fact. Did the thought never occur to you or did you forget who I am?”

“I didn’t forget. Queen of the Dead. Powerful Necromancer. My Love.”

“Your Love?” she asked, raising a brow.

“I certainly don’t plan on sharing what’s mine.”

“And who’s to say you aren’t mine?”

“Those ‘pretty little marks’ I left along your neck.”

“I could mark you up just as much, Darling.”

“Be my guest. I would love that.”

She closed the distance between the two of them as he said that, looking up at him. “So, what is your plan then?”

“You’ll be mine and I’ll be yours. A Queen and her King.”

“Are you sure you're willing to play that game?”

“If it means keeping you, My Love.”

She laughed, pulling him down until they were a hair’s breadth away, hooking a finger under his chin bringing his lips to hers, eyes glowing as she did so, before pulling away, tilting her head to the side, a Cheshire grin growing as she looked him over.

“Oh Darling, I’m afraid you're mistaken on that account. I’m the one who will be keeping you.”

#dickinette #Maribat #No beta we die like robins #Enthralling and Controlling #Possessive #Steamy #MgiMixer2022

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jinjeriffic · 2 months

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DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 5

Part 4

After collecting their bags from the library lockers Jazz led him down the hallway until she found a small, unlocked, empty classroom. The room was barren except for desks and a whiteboard. I guess they don’t bother locking it if there’s nothing worth stealing.

Jazz sat her messenger bag down on the teacher’s desk and pulled a whiteboard marker out of a side pocket.

“Right,” Jazz began, “I don’t know how much you know about ecto-entities and since, as you said, the reports on them tend to be pretty biased, I’m just going to start from scratch. Sounds good?” she rambled.

Tim hopped up onto the front row desk and tried his best to look like an attentive teacher’s pet.

“Yes, Ms Fenton,” he said cheekily.

Jazz gave him an amused look.

“Careful Mr Taylor, or you’ll end up in detention,” she said lightly. She turned to the whiteboard and gathered her thoughts for a moment, then wrote ECTO-ENTITIES in large block letters, “Many people refer to all ecto-entities as ghosts, but this is actually a misnomer. Ghosts as most people think of them, i.e. the restless spirits of the dead, are only a small subset of the ectoplasmic population. There’s plenty of them that were never human to begin with,” higher up on the board, she wrote INFINITE REALMS, “Ecto-entities originate from a parallel dimension to ours, which is called the Infinite Realms by its inhabitants. Though my parents refer to it as the Ghost Zone, that name is woefully inadequate.” Jazz paused and glanced at him.

“Kinda like foreigners renaming places instead of using the one in the native language, gotcha,” Tim nodded. They had dealt with alternate realities before, so this wasn’t completely out of left field. He would go along with it for now. Jazz gave him a small smile.

“That’s right!” she said and tapped the whiteboard, “Now, the Infinite Realms and our dimension are closely interconnected, like two sides of the same coin. Large scale damage to one would cause similar devastation on the opposite side and vice versa,” she gave him a serious look.

“Which makes the hostile attitude of the paranormal research community rather worrying,” Tim mused, “If someone did something stupid the blowback would hit us too,” If he wasn’t trained to read people he would have missed the slight tightening around Jazz’s eyes.

“That’s the theory anyway. And it’s not like the US government ever dropped bombs on people just to see what would happen,” she chirped with false cheeriness.

There’s a story there, Tim thought, and not the kind you would find in a history book. What the hell has been going on?

“I’m guessing getting access to the Infinite Realms isn’t as easy as calling an Uber though,” he joked.

“You’d be surprised,” Jazz said wryly, receiving a raised eyebrow in response, “there are places where the barrier between worlds is naturally thin, allowing temporary rifts to form more easily, but they can pop up pretty much anywhere in the world. It’s what allows ecto-entities to enter our dimension. It’s also not unheard of for humans to stumble into the Realms either, though they’re lucky to return at all,” she twirled the marker between her fingers, “Time doesn’t seem to work the same way in the Realms as it does here. Just in case you ever come across one, make sure to leave through the same portal you entered. Otherwise you might find yourself stranded in the Middle Ages, or far in the future with everyone you know and love long dead.”

Tim had to fight to keep down a wince. The whole Bruce Lost In Time Debacle was still an emotional scar for the family, they really didn’t need a repeat performance.

“Duly noted.”

“Some entities are able to open and close rifts at will,” Jazz continued, unfazed by Tim’s dry tone, ”though that ability seems to be pretty rare. It probably requires an unusual level of power or incursions would be much more common.”

“That would explain the little disappearing trick Damian’s delivery guy pulled,” Jason murmured through Tim’s earpiece, “But does that mean we’re dealing with a fucking super ghost?”

Tim gave a thoughtful hum and drummed his fingers against the edge of the desk.

“Do you think humans could open a portal to the Realms?”

Jazz gave him a wry smile.

“You just summed up the bulk of my parents’ research over the last two decades. They managed to build a functioning portal about two years ago.”

Tim choked. Jason swore.

“What?! But that’s-! How is that not all over the news?!” Tim sputtered. Jazz just sighed.

“My parents have been ranting about ghosts since they were in college,” she said wearily, ”Most of the scientific community had written them off as crackpots years ago. It doesn’t help that large concentrations of ectoplasm generate some kind of interference that messes with recording equipment. Short of kidnapping the naysayers and shoving them bodily through the Fenton Ghost Portal it’s hard to prove anything. And thankfully even my parents aren’t that crazy,” she finished with an eye roll.

Tim buried his face in his hands. An interdimensional portal. What the fuck. He thought back on everything Jazz had told him so far.

“What’s ectoplasm?”

“You’ve been paying attention!” she smiled and added some notes to the whiteboard, “Ectoplasm is the basic building block of everything in the Infinite Realms, and by extension ecto-entities. Hence the name. It’s the equivalent of matter in our dimension; atoms, protons, quarks, etcetera. I’m not a physicist, so I can’t tell you exactly how it works, but that’s why ecto-entities are able to interact with our physical world in such fascinating ways. Flight, intangibility and invisibility are all common abilities for them.”

“Wow, what a fucking security nightmare. B is gonna freak,” Jason groused. Tim tuned him out to focus on Jazz’s continued explanation.

“My parents have been experimenting with using ectoplasm for power generation, but it’s proven extremely volatile. It seems like it’s affected by things like belief and emotion which is absolutely fascinating,” she said with a gleam in her eye, “not to mention its effects on organic tissue. Have you ever had your dinner come to life and try to eat you?”

Tim had a sudden, horrible suspicion.

“Can’t say that I have,” he managed to squeeze out past the lump in his throat, “Um… Jazz, what does ectoplasm look like?”

“Well that depends on what it’s been affected and shaped by but in its raw form it looks like a bright green, glowing liquid,” she tilted her head, “Why do you ask?”

Over the comms, Jason made a sound like someone had kicked him in the crotch.

“Lazarus water?! Is she talking about the fucking pits?!” he choked out.

Tim made a valiant effort to keep his own reaction in check.

“Oh, just wondering how I’ll recognize a ghost- er, ecto-entity when I see one,” he lied with fake casualness, “You mentioned something about powers?”

“Yes! All the entities we’ve encountered so far have exhibited powers which are common to their species, as well as additional powers that seem to depend on the individual core. I’ve theorized that powers develop as a response to stress related to either their Obsession or death trauma…” Jazz trailed off, “aaaaaand I’ve lost you.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, I know I have a tendency to ramble,” she said sheepishly and considered the bullet points she had written so far, “Let me backtrack a bit. Not all ecto-entities are ghosts. There’s personifications of concepts, which I theorize are formed through the collective consciousness of living beings. They are entities which represent Hope or Justice or-”

“Time?” Tim interjected. Jazz gave him a calculating look.

“...sure. They are among the most powerful entities and have powers related to what they represent. I suspect they may have even been worshipped as gods at some point. You definitely wouldn’t want to mess with them,” at Tim’s nod, she continued, “There’s also the Neverborn, which are formed when ecto-entities choose to reproduce. They are entirely of the Infinite Realms, and thus were never ‘born’ into our world.”

“Ghosts can have children?” he said, surprised.

“Yes, although I’ve never been able to get the details on how it works. They don’t like to discuss it with outsiders. And considering they can look like dragons or disembodied floating eyeballs I’m not sure I’d want to know the exact mechanics,” she joked.

“I’m sure there’s plenty of people who’d disagree with you on that,” Tim muttered, then paused. “Wait, dragons?”

Jazz waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. The point is that there’s way more to the other side than most people realize. There’s probably lots of things I’ve never even heard of. It’s quite exciting, really!”

Tim worried about it. A lot. Jason had also gone suspiciously quiet.

“So, ghosts are just the tip of the iceberg?” Tim hedged.

“Exactly. What sets them apart from other ecto-entities is that they are usually created upon the death of someone or something from our dimension, which gives them motivation to come back here,” Jazz added more notes and arrows to the whiteboard. “All entities have something they call a core; think of it as their central organ or brain. It houses their consciousness, and its nature affects what powers they get. There’s all kinds of elemental cores like fire and water, but also more esoteric ones like shadow or technology. An ecto-entity’s body is composed of ectoplasm and moulded by their core. Their physical form is malleable and heavily based on their self-perception. With experience they can change shape to suit their needs.”

Tim mentally added shapeshifting to the growing list of powers to worry about. So far it sounded a lot like a Martian’s.

“So can ecto-entities grow and age?”

“It depends. The Neverborn usually do, but a lot of ghosts have a bit of a Peter Pan thing going on where they don’t want to. They are often ‘stuck’ at the age they were when they died, physically and mentally. Though there’s always exceptions.”

Tim hummed thoughtfully. Something had been bothering him since ghosts had first entered the equation.

“Jazz, if ghosts don’t age or die, why aren’t they all over the place? Even if rifts are rare, shouldn’t there be hundreds of thousands of years worth of dead folks wandering the Earth?”

She gave him a sad smile.

“I never said ghosts couldn’t die, Adam,” she said carefully, ”And not everyone who dies comes back as a ghost. The ones who do typically have some unfinished business holding them back. Like an obsession they never got to fulfill, or a loved one they are watching over. Once they are done, they are free to move on to whatever Afterlife awaits them,” she sighed and crossed her arms, “It also takes a lot of energy for a ghost to do anything in our world. I think a majority of them never hit that level, or can’t keep it up for any significant amount of time. It’s also part of the reason my parents are so biased against them.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“Think about it. Most ecto-entities are just like regular people, going about their business and keeping their heads down. The ones who are both motivated to cross into our world, powerful enough to manifest and tend to make themselves known are the troublemakers. It would be like an alien looking at the population of Belle Reve and concluding that the majority of humans must be super villains! It’s sample bias.”

Tim bit his lip. This all sounded worryingly plausible, which would mean a literal world of trouble about to come down on their heads. Fuck, just what we needed.

“You mentioned that ghosts can die. I assume you don’t mean from old age, right?” he queried. Jazz looked at him wearily.

“You’d be right. If an ecto-entity’s core is too badly damaged, they will cease to exist,” she said cautiously, “It doesn’t help that ghosts tend to maintain a strength based social hierarchy and are fiercely protective of their territory. Ecto-entities usually have a lair within the Infinite Realms, and those who cross over to our dimension often establish a haunt to call their own. Any intruders would be met with violence,” she sighed and rubbed her forehead, “My parents have also been developing weapons to fight ghosts with… varying degrees of success. A lot of their tech runs on ectoplasm which makes it pretty temperamental.”

Seeing Jazz’s obvious discomfort with the topic, Tim decided to switch tracks.

“Is there any way to tell for sure if my brother came back as a ghost?”

Relieved at the change, Jazz made a see-sawing motion with her hand.

“Kind of? My parents tried for ages to build a ghost detector but they never got it to work quite right. Too much ambient ectoplasm in Amity I guess,” she shrugged as if that statement wasn’t extremely worrying. “You could always grab a ouija board or something and try asking. Just… don’t ask a ghost about their death. It’s a major trauma for most of them and there’s no better way to send them into a frothing rage. If they volunteer the information that’s one thing, but to ask about it is like the social faux pas among ecto-entities.”

Tim nodded and made a mental note to get his hands on some Fenton tech. He had a feeling it was going to be a long week for him.

Jason and Tim didn’t speak until they were safely back in the car. Tim was mentally composing the report they would have to make to Bruce. He was not looking forward to his reaction.

“So,” Jason began with fake casualness, “an interdimensional portal in Illinois.”

“Yep.”

“Creatures made of fucking Lazarus Water.”

“Sounds like it.”

“And we still don’t know if our mystery meta is Bruce’s dead kid or not.”

Tim groaned.

“It all adds up though, doesn’t it? The camera glitching, the powers, the portal…”

“And that damned prophecy. The personification of Time, huh?”

Tim pinched his nose to stave off the growing headache. They contemplated the fucked up situation they had stumbled into in silence for a few minutes. Finally, Jason sighed and started up the engine.

“Rock-paper-scissors for who has to tell B?”

Part 6

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #batman #batfamily #jazz fenton #tim drake #red robin #jason todd #red hood #prophecy universe #the one where clockwork uses prophecies to mess things up (and set things right)#no beta we die like danny #jazz gets to infodump and worldbuild whoo

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wolfram-but-art · 8 months

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i may or may not have made full designs for mercs in an rp i'm doing...

rb > likes or smth

misc + og designs under cut :thumbs up:

here's them before i started colouring

most of these are pretty gimmicky on purpose, also i changed a cuple of stuff here and there

for the sake of the rp i designed these kill feeds (more or less inspired by those chat devices someone made for dsmp that one time) (it's a little primitive, but it only has to be functional)

there is a v.2 which has the form of a watch (you can see it on sniper, spy and engie) (it also has a mode where instead of sending notifications it vibrates, thought it would be fun for sneaking) (maybe it even has a walke talkie function, yk, for team comms) (i didn't draw but it's all fictional anyway)

i kept some on my hcs in these ddesigns too, like engi's and Pyro's special goggles and tails and

i also removed Medic's lab coat because... well... he doesn't have it on...

i removed Sniper's facial hair too because i ended up hating it hfsgfe

there's also this uh,, thing i made

(yes, i made spy look and pose like that on prpose lmao)

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frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe · 5 months

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@steddiemas Day 13 - Snow Day

uh...yeah.. this got way away from me but...here's day 13! (a day late and 4k words more than normal???)

pairing: steddie | word count: 5,201 | rated: T

The following Thursday finds Eddie and the entire Hellfire Club literally and metaphorically clamoring over each other and his large dining room table while their campaign (Eddie had helpfully told him) continues on.

Luckily, Robin had agreed to spend their night off work from the video store with him.

“So, when are you going to do something about your hopeless Eddie crush?”

“SSshh! Not so loud, Rob!”

She rolls her eyes at him, “Sorry to tell you this Dingus, but I don’t think he’s paying you a single modicum of attention.”

Steve looks over at the table from his spot on the couch; Robin’s right, of course, Eddie’s already halfway onto the tabletop, his arms stretched wide and the rest of him hunched low to the wood.

He’s deep into his story and his voice is dropped low, only the tone of it reaching Steve’s ears.

“He’s such a dork.” Steve sighs, shaking his head.

“Yeah, but you loooove him!” Robin teases, poking one foot that had been with her other on Steve’s lap into his side instead.

Steve rolls his eyes at her, “Hand me another slice of cheese.”

She reaches over to one of the leftover boxes of pizza on the coffee table and fishes out a slice for him, “So what are you gonna do about it?” She asks, handing it to him.

“About what?” he asks, taking down half the slice in one bite.

“Don’t play dumb Steve,”

He sighs, “I don’t know Rob; he hasn’t made a move either! He kissed me first, remember? Right over there!” Steve points to the offending doorway, “Because of you, by the way.” he snarfs down the other half of the slice two big bites.

“I remember.” She nods.

“I honestly don’t know what to do Bob, I want to corner him and kiss him all over his fuckin’ body but how’m I supposed to know if he’d be okay with that? Does he want that?”

“Oh he wants that, believe me.”

Steve narrows his eyes at her. She only quirked a brow at him in return. “What do you know, Buckley?”

Robin snorts out a laugh, “I would say to just go for it, but I feel like he’d freak if you did that out of the blue.”

“So, what, I just say ‘Hey, I really really like you, maybe already halfway love you, and I want to know if you’d like to kiss about it maybe?’?”

“Who’s Steve kissing?”

Steve jumps at Dustin’s voice, suddenly beside him. He knew his hearing was going on his left..Robin told him he was just imagining it.

“OOh, Steve’s kissing someone?” This time it was Lucas, his voice teasing as he passes behind Dustin through the door under the stairs with his arms full of pop cans.

“I’m not kissing anyone,”

“He just wants to.”

Damn you, Robin. Steve glances quickly to the table, Eddie has his back turned to them.

“Who is it?”

“Uh, it’s…” Steve pauses for a half a second, “None of your business. You guys done for the night?”

“Yeah.. about that..”

Oh no–

“Can we stay the night here? We have to start planning out our characters for the next campaign!”

“You guys are done done?” “Not quite,” Steve turns his head to the right, the older kid Frank is standing in the other doorway from the living room to the hall closest to the front door. “We have one more session then I’m DM-ing the next campaign.”

Steve nods along with Robin (whose head is hanging backward over the arm of the couch closest to Frank). “So you…six? Seven? Want to stay the night?” He's already skimming through the house in his head to where the extra blankets and pillows are stashed. He should have enough.

“No, just us.” Mike confirms, plopping down onto the carpet between the coffee table and fireplace across from the couch. “Me, Lucas, Will, and Dustin.”

Dustin nods, adding “And Eddie was going to stay a little longer to plan his own character, since he’s gonna be able to play in the next one.”

Steve turns back to Frank and the other older kid…Jeff…?, who’s now leaning around the doorway too. “You guys aren’t staying?”

“Nah man, we don’t wanna impose, thanks for having us though.” Maybe Jeff said.

“Yeah, of course,” Steve lifts Robin’s legs off his lap and stands, moving to see the three older Hellfire members off at the door. The Harringtons are polite hosts first and foremost. “Thanks for coming, guys.” What was he thanking them for? It wasn’t like they were here for him.

Jeff’s polite smile seemed to echo Steve’s thoughts, “Of course man, thanks for having us over.” “And for the pizza.” the shortest of the three says to the agreement of the others.

Jeff shakes Steve’s hand, the shortest one (Garby? George? It was something with a ‘G’) smiles again after pulling on his coat before heading out to Frank’s truck.

One of Frank’s solid hands lands on Steve’s shoulder in a friendly pat, and it’s almost enough to miss Eddie slipping out the door behind him into the slow fall of fat snowflakes outside. He was surprised to see a swath of snow had blanketed his front yard since the boys had been here.

Steve almost says something, but hears the guys exchanging their own farewells through the cracked door, so he turns back to the steps.

Will is already coming back down them, arms full of blankets and pillows, Lucas following behind him.

“I was about to go grab those myself–wait, did any of you dipshits call and ask your parents if you can stay? It’s a school night!” Steve follows the two into the living room.

The four of them immediately look cowed.

“OOohh you better get moving guys,” Robin teases.

“All of you up, you’re calling home.” Steve waves his arm as if to shove them all through the hall into the kitchen. “And no complaints, otherwise you’ll all be piling into the beemer before you can say demogorgon.”

Three of the four boys grumble their complaints as they pass him, “Hey, you’re lucky I’m even letting you stay. Seeing as how I’m the one that’s gonna have to drive you all to school in the morning.”

“You’ll already be driving Robin!” Mike complains

“Yeah but I have pretty privilege.” Robin calls from her spot on the couch.

Steve hears the door click closed, and looks over to see Eddie coming back in.

“Hey–” Eddie disappears down the hall and past the steps, only to reappear in the dining area through the other doorway under the steps. He immediately goes back to whatever papers he’s got on the table.

Steve looks down at Robin, who looks up at him at the same time, his confusion is reflected on her face.

He’s about to go talk to Eddie when Dustin calls for him from the kitchen.

-x-

“Steve! Mom wants to talk to you!”

Eddie hears Dustin call from the kitchen, and he stacks his pile of notes together, finally closing them up into his spiral notebook.

He pauses then. Just staring down at the disheveled wire binding.

He should go. No need to torture himself further, the kids will understand right? He’ll just make up something about his Uncle needing him home right away tomorrow morning or something.

Yeah. That should work, it’s not like anyone would call Wayn—

“So. You’re down in the dumps.”

Eddie’s shoulders crowd up against his ears at Robin’s arrival.

“I’m fine.”

“Uh huh.” She doesn’t believe him, of course.

He can hear the sound of Steve’s cheery voice from the kitchen, the tone he takes whenever he’s talking to one of the kids’ parents, and Eddie can feel his face screw up in pain.

“Ah hah!”

“Don’t.”

“I didn’t say anything.” “You didn’t have to,” he bites out, “It’s not like you’re the one having to listen to your crush wax poetic about some girl he wants to kiss stupid.”

He turns to look at her. Robin’s face is blank for a moment, then a barely-there smug smirk appears on her lips.

Eddie’s vision goes scarlet. “You don’t get to be a shithead about it, Buckley. This is all your fuckin’ fault.” he spits out in a low whisper.

“My fault?” she echoes in the same tone, the smile falling from her face. “What’s my fault??”

“You’re the one who made me think I had a chance, weren’t you? The one who put up that fuckin’ mistletoe? Your fault.” He pokes her shoulder accusingly. His volume was getting higher, so he adjusts before continuing. “I should have known there was no chance; he’s the one who said ‘Now we’re even.’ after he kissed me in Melvald’s!”

“He said tha—”

Eddie was practically hissing at this point, just a steady stream of steam escaping him like a cartoon character. “He just felt bad, Robin! He just felt like he owed me something, there’s no goddamn feelings there!”

“Eddi–”

“I gotta go.”

He scoops up his notebook in one hand and snatches up his bag with the other, slinging it over his shoulder.

“Eddie, don’t go–”

He stalks down the hall past the steps away from her voice. He’s almost to his escape when Dustin cuts off his path from the kitchen doorway closest to the front door.

“Eddie, you’re leaving?”

“Sorry kid, gotta go.” He steps around him, “I forgot Wayne needs me home right away tomorrow morning.”

“But you were going to–”

“I’ll help you later, Dustin.” it wasn’t supposed to come out like that.

“Don’t be an ass, Eddie.”

“You know what? Bite me, Mike.” He really shouldn’t be taking his feelings out on the goblins.

“Fuck you, man.”

“Hey! Hey, what is happening right now?” Steve comes out into the hall then, making eye contact with Eddie for a fraction of a second before Eddie focuses on lacing his boots onto his feet.

“Eddie’s leaving,”

“...Okay? And?”

Alright, ouch.

He yanks his laces even tighter.

“And he said he would help us, and now he’s leaving.”

“Oh come off it Dustin, you heard what he said.” Lucas says, an eyeroll in his voice.

“What’d he say?” Eddie’s head told him that Steve’s voice sounded hurt, but best not to believe his head right now. “He said,” Eddie cuts in, “That his uncle needs him home in the morning.”

Steve’s soft “Oh.” was barely audible over the other three arguing back at him.

He yanks the last lace tight to his calf and stands sharply.

“Yeah, so, thanks for having us over, Harrington, I’ll see ya around.” he purposely doesn’t look up at Steve’s face as he says this, focusing on his notebook and bag.

His hand just reaches the doorknob when Robin’s voice calls out from the living room. “Don’t think you’re going anywhere anytime soon, Eddie.”

Because his arm was already in motion when she started talking, the door opens in front of him just as she finishes.

The slow fat flakes from only, what, 10 minutes earlier? are now flying harsh and sideways across the light escaping Steve’s front door. It’s piling up out there, and fast. Bessie has braved many a winter in Hawkins, but he knows he’d get snowed in by time they got across town to the park.

Honestly though? Getting snowed in on the side of the road is seeming much more preferable than staying here after his little hissy fit.

“Eddie? Just stay here, man.” Steve sounds much closer than before, “I don’t want something to happen to you–” What Eddie can only assume is Steve’s hand falls to his shoulder, and he immediately turns away from it, closing the front door and letting his bag fall down his arm to the floor in the same motion as he turns into the kitchen without making eye contact with anyone.

The phone is still warm in his palm when he lifts it to his ear, punching Frank’s number into the buttons on the cradle.

In the handful of rings it takes for him to pick up, Eddie can hear the others whispering to each other, no doubt things like “What’s Eddie’s problem?”, “Why’s he being mean to Steve?”, “Why can’t he control his big gay feelings for his obviously straight friend?”.

Okay, maybe that last one was a bit much for a bunch of sophomores.

“Hello?”

“Frank, you’re home?”

“Uh. Yeah. You called me at home.”

“Well it’s snowin’ like shit outside now, I wanted to make sure you guys got back safe.”

“Oh. Yeah, yeah, I just got in when I heard the phone. Everyone’s home safe.”

“Alright good, I’m gonna stay here at Harrington’s; talk to you later man, I gotta call Wayne.

“Okay Ed, see ya’.”

Eddie jabs his finger into the phone’s switch to end the call, then starts to dial the trailer. Wayne should be just about to leave for work.

“Y’ello?”

“Hey Wayne, it’s me.” Eddie says, turning his face away automatically when someone shuffles into the kitchen.

“Ed, where’ya at?”

“I’m still at Steve’s. It really started to come down so I don’t want to risk driving home tonight.”

“Good. You stay righ’ there, son.”

“Are you still going in?”

Wayne hums in agreement, “Got to.”

Eddie’s stomach sinks, “Wayne–”

“Now don’ you worry ‘bout me boy, I woke up early enough to get the chains on the truck.”

“Fine, fine. Be careful, old man.”

“You got it kid. I’ll see ya tomorrow.”

He hangs the phone back into it’s cradle on the wall feeling much looser now; he’d almost forgotten why he was so wound up, but seized up again as soon as he turned.

Steve was standing at the stove, stirring something that was obscured by his torso. “You want some hot chocolate too, Eds?” he asks, not turning from the stove.

Eddie gives him a short “No.” and goes back out into the hall to unlace his boots once again.

He wanders back into the living room with his bag and plops down in the recliner, pulling out his monster manual and his smaller, less pulverized notebook, the one with the basics of his next character fleshed out in it.

A tiefling bard, one he had imagined as having such thick skin on him that no matter what snide remarks, insults, and bashes to his character were thrown at him, he’d only shrug them off. Something real Eddie’d love to do. A charming, charismatic bard that got all who heard his songs to overlook his hellish appearance.

Wouldn’t that be something.

While he’s mulling over what name to give his bard (he’s waffling between Zarlech and Erron), Robin appears, settling in on the corner seat of the couch beside him.

He tenses up again, thinking she’s going to try talking to him about the too-good-for-this-world man in the yellow sweater in the next room, but she doesn’t. She only sits down and starts back in on the thick Vogue magazine she’d been swiping though since he and his troupe arrived.

Steve comes in with two mugs of cocoa not long after, walking to Eddie first with a soft smile.

“I told you I didn’t want any.”

He regrets his tone as soon as the words pass his lips; Steve looks stunned, the boys’ idle chatter from the coffee table dies off immediately.

Eddie’s face burns in embarrassment, but before he can even open his mouth, Robin says “I’ll take his,” and reaches for the steaming pale yellow mug.

He passes it over, and stands there for a moment with the other mug before turning and handing it over to Will, the closest to him of the four on the floor.

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose briefly, then turns out of the room. Robin’s up and out of the room not a moment later, saying, “I’ll go help him with you threes’.”

There’s a beat of silence, then: “What. In the actual fuck. Is your problem, man?”

Eddie turns to face the voice; all four teens are staring at him, each one with a different level of incredulousness on their faces. Mike’s is the worst, looking at Eddie like he just killed his dog. And he’s about to get revenge for it.

“Who do you think you are to talk to him like that, huh?” Mike seethes at him, “This is his fucking house, and you’re gonna sit here and be rude as all hell just because he doesn’t like you back?”

What the fuck?

“What the fuck?” Eddie hears his voice echo his thoughts. “How do you—”

“Steve puts up with enough shit from us as it is, he doesn’t need it from you too.”

There’s surprise on the other threes’ faces, but Eddie’s got an inkling it’s surprise at this coming from Mike and not from the content of the outburst.

“Uh..”

“Mike’s right, Eddie. You’re our friend, but Steve’s our…” Lucas trails off.

“He’s our Steve.” Will says resolutely.

“He’s our Steve.” Lucas agrees, “And we won’t hesitate to drop you like a dead fish over him.”

Eddie turns his gaze to Dustin, not looking forward to what he might see in his closest butthead’s expression.

Dustin’s face is set in determined lines, and he meets Eddie’s gaze solidly. “I love you both as brothers, man. Don’t make me choose between you two…Though I will choose Steve.”

Robin returns before Eddie can formulate any sort of response to..all that.., pressing a steaming mug of cocoa into each of the boys’ waiting hands.

She came in with four though, and brings the last one to Eddie. “Leave him be for a minute. I’m sure he will be fine, but he’s upset.” He takes the mug from her and she squashes back down into her abandoned seat with a sigh. “Which usually means he’s going to be doing laundry until I make him go to sleep.”

Eddie spends the next 25 minutes trying to think about what he’s going to say to Steve, what he’s going to tell him was the reason for his bullshit attitude.

For a solid three, he seriously thinks about telling Steve the truth, that he got all pissy at the thought of him sucking face with whoever it is he’s got a crush on, but that’s really not fair to Steve..or to this mystery girl.

At 30, Robin nudges his arm with her bony elbow, so he leaves his book and still-unnamed character on the chair and goes to find Steve.

He follows the sound of music coming from off the kitchen, stopping just outside the door when the low sound of Steve singing along to ‘The First Nöel’ playing softly through the radio.

It had to be that damn song, didn’t it?

…Okay, maybe it’s not so bad if Steve’s the one singing it..

He steps into the narrow room once the radio host comes back on. It’s small, but there’s more than enough room for the machine’s doors to open and to manuver a basket around in here, and there’s a side door out to the yard at the end of the room; there’s neat-ish piles of clothes in front of the washer and overflowing a basket under the dryer door, a few loose dust bunnies and used dryer sheets litter the corners.

Steve’s standing at the dryer, pawing through a seemingly freshly cleaned pile of towels on its top.

He glances up at him briefly when he enters, going back to the pile immediately, “Eddie, hey, sorry for sulking off like that. I just..got into my head a bit.” Even Steve sounded like he didn’t believe what he was saying. “I’ll be back out in a minute, just gotta take care of this load..”

“Hey, it’s alright man. It’s not all on you, you know.” Steve’s hands stop when he looks over, dropping themselves and a half-folded towel back onto the pile. “Look, I’m sorry Steve. My brain is weird sometimes too; I had some of my own shit pop back up for no fuckin’ reason at all and it just..really threw me. I didn’t mean to take it out on you like that, I swear.”

The truth. For the most part at least. He really didn’t mean to snap at Steve like that over fuckin’ hot chocolate.

“Really, it’s okay Eddie. You did say that you didn’t want any.”

“Yeah, well, that doesn’t give me the right to be an ass to you.” Eddie ducks his head in embarrassment.

“Thank you,” Steve finally says. “I appreciate it, Eds.”

Relief floods through him at the nickname, he meets Steve’s gaze again. “Do you uhm, need help or anything?”

Steve smiles softly, “No, I really do just need to take care of this last load and I’ll be back out there.”

A low howl of wind from outside the side door cuts him off before he can reply.

Eddie groans, “Well that sounds like it’ll be fun…”

All in all, it was fun.

After going back to the living room and confirming with the others that he did, in fact, apologize to their Steve, Eddie sat back down with his notebook and got back to work.

He was slowly absorbed into the boys’ huddle and by time Steve comes back in, all five of them are heavily debating what alignment Zardok the bard should be.

Not 30 minutes later, the lights flicker off above them.

“Aw hell.” Steve mutters from the sofa.

“I’ll start running the tub.” Eddie sighs, pushing himself off the floor and waving his arms in front of him so he doesn’t run into any walls on his way.

“Why would you run the tub?” Dustin asks, incredulous.

“You fill the tub with water in case the pipes freeze while the power’s out. That way you still have water to flush the toilets and get clean and stuff.”

“Thank you Will, exactly.” Eddie says. Smart kid.

Damn. Why doesn’t he carry a mini flashlight again?

“That’s a thing?” Robin asks, then clicks on a flashlight. Where in the hell’d she get that?

“You don’t need to do that, Eds. The place is plenty well insulated.” Steve assures, stopping him from leaving, “The pipes won’t freeze, I promise.”

“....Lucky bastard.”

Dustin goes to the opposite end of Robin’s couch and fishes another light from between the cushions.

He and the other three make quick work of arranging their blankets and pillows there in the living room, Dustin’s light only going so far as to help continue their brainstorming.

Steve and Robin leave them to it, and lead Eddie upstairs with their light.

One round of fighting off nightmares later, he’s dragged into wakefulness with the smell of cinnamon.

He re-cinches Steve’s lended sweats around his hips and trudges down the stairs.

There are snores still reverberating from the living room, and Steve is standing in front of the stove flipping something.

A square glass pan with an inch of some sort of mixture in it was sitting on the island across from him along with an open bag of bread and half a dozen eggs still in their carton.

The floor under his feet squeaks when he stops in the doorway, alerting Steve to his presence.

He glances over his shoulder at him, then goes back to the stove to flip something again. “Hey Eds, just makin’ some breakfast, you want something?” He turns to him fully then, leaning his elbows onto a clear patch of the island countertop.

Steve must take his sleepy silence as confusion.

“Oh! The power came back on last night. Well, er..” he looks back at the stove’s clock, blinking 5:08 out at them, “Early this morning, actually.”

Huh. Guess it was confusion.

“Anyway, you want some french toast?” That explains the cinnamon. “Or I can whip you up some eggs…?”

“No, no, french toast is great.” his voice comes out scratchy with disuse. “Thanks Stevie.”

Steve smiles and turns back to the stove, “The coffee machine is on, if you want a cup; I’ll have a plate ready for you in just a couple minutes.”

Eddie wakes up slowly with his coffee, watching as Steve resets the clock on the oven to his watch.

“It’s 8:30 already? Shouldn’t we get the kids up for school?” Holy shit. Who knew Eddie Munson would ever sound so much like a mom.

“Nah,” Steve waves him off, “I was up with my alarm to get them up and ready, but when I got down here, Claudia called. The school called a snow day.”

Steve passes him a plate of toast, already smothered with syrup. “You want powdered sugar?”

“Ooh fancy, fancy,” Eddie laughs, adding a haughty accent to his next words, “Bring me my powdered confectionary Steeves, I wish to dust it upon my imported french breakfast.”

Steve rolls his eyes at him, but passes over a short ceramic container of the stuff.

Lucas is the one up next, going to the coffee machine before acknowledging either of them.

He sips on his cup without adding anything to it, the heathen. Eddie’s own cup was nearly drowned out with milk and sugar.

Slowly but surely, the rest of the house wakes up and wanders to the kitchen, each getting a plate stacked high with sweet cinnamon-y goodness.

Dustin, Mike, and Will are sitting at the little breakfast nook table in the kitchen’s front window, getting steadily louder about their plans for the near eight inches of snow that’s blanketed across Steve’s front yard.

“You’re going to help me shovel it out so I can get you free-loaders home as soon as possible. That’s what you’re going to do.” Steve insists, pushing a plate of toast in front of Robin, the last to get up.

So that’s what originally got them all outside, but two shovels can only get two of them so far with the driveway before any of the other five start fucking around.

The first blow comes from Mike, a well thrown snowball hitting dead center on the back of Will’s head.

Then Lucas lobbed one aimed for Dustin but hit Mike right on the nose.

Will’s shovel was abandoned, teams were made, and Steve was left shoveling alone when the snowballs really started flying.

Robin, Lucas, and Will booked it for the bushes on one side of the yard, immediately packing snow up between them and into gaps in the branches to protect them from the flurry.

And of course, the only other good cover on the other end of the yard from them was Steve’s beemer, so Eddie, Mike, and Dustin dove behind the newly uncovered tires, frantically packing snowballs from the untouched drift under Steve’s car.

“Really?” The three of them look up at the sound of Steve’s voice.

Fuck, he looks so adorable all bundled up like this. Nose and cheeks bitten red with the cold and with the exertion of shoveling, scarf tucked around his neck and into his jacket, the dark blue mittens, one on his hip and one over the handle of the shovel, the matching knit cap—even as he glares disapprovingly at them.

“So you’re not gonna help me, and also subject my baby to enemy fire? Not cool, guys.”

Mike lobs a ball across the yard.

“Join us then! Help us defeat those heathens and we’ll help you with the driveway.”

A snowball smacks into the back passenger side window of the car

“No.”, Steve says with finality and goes back to shoveling.

Another ball soars over the roof of the car and splats across the cleared-ish pavement behind them.

“Awe, you’re no fun Stevie.” Eddie complains, though he’s definitely not complaining about the view he’s got right now.

Dustin sends one back, mumbling out a “Damn! So close..” soon after.

“Bite me.”

Not 10 seconds later, a blast of snow smacks the back of Steve’s head.

Everyone freezes.

-x-

He turns slowly back around to face the three snow-covered idiots crouched behind his car.

All three stare wide-eyed at him, faces flushed with cold.

Mike and Dustin's hands raise at the exact same time, both pointing at Eddie.

He can tell from Dustin’s face that it was definitely him that threw the thing at his head, but the panicked, adorable, wide-eyed look Eddie has at the accusation is worth playing along for.

“What?! You traitors!” He scrambles up and back, glancing over and managing to duck a snowball aimed for his head by Robin, “Stevie, sweetheart, darling, you know I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Do I?” He growls out playfully, advancing on the doe-eyed menace.

“Yes! You know I love you, Steve, I would never betray you like that.”

The words, even said teasingly as they are, make Steve’s stomach swoop heavily. He’s lucky his face was already red from the wind.

“I don’t know, Eds,” He holds out one mittened hand to Mike as he passes between the two boys. He drops one into his palm. “Sounds like something you would do.”

He raises the snowball and yells out, chasing Eddie around the front of his car to the hoots and hollers of the others jeering him on.

Eddie is not a good runner, and his Reeboks slip and slide as they try to carve a path through the fresh snow in the yard.

He’s quick though, and doges out of Steve’s reach when he almost catches the back of his borrowed puffer coat, launching off toward the side of the house instead.

Oh no.

“Wait, Eddie! There’s a—” Eddie’s dark head of curls disappears under his feet as he slips off over the side of the hill. “Hill—shit!”

Steve spoke too soon even for himself, unable to stop his momentum before he slips down the hill too.

Snow pushes itself under the back of his jacket down the first half of his slide, then one of his feet gets stuck up under him and he tumbles ass-over-tea kettle the rest of the way.

“OOF—” he lands on something much more solid than snow at the bottom.

Eddie’s cackling laughter bursts out from under him, his chest heaving with it under Steve’s own.

“Eddie, you okay, man?”

Steve pushes up on his hands, one on either side of Eddie’s torso, to look down at him properly.

He lost the red hat he’d grabbed when they came outside earlier, gone to the snow somewhere, and his hair is fanned in an almost perfect halo around his head.

The red spots on his face show off the flakes that fall onto them briefly before they melt under the heat of his skin, his mouth open wide and his eyes crinkled shut in laughter.

Steve was already head over fuckin’ heels for this man, but…oh.

Oh.

Eddie has laugh lines.

They’re so deep already, crinkled up at the corners of his eyes, but for a split second, Steve can’t help but wonder how much more they’d be in 10, 15, 20 years in the future.

And he realizes in that instant that wants so badly to be there to watch them grow longer.

look out, it's noelle coming in hot with the Oh. Oh. moment!

296 notes · View notes

sylvemooniet · 6 months

Text

Dead Little Bird

Word count: 4,078 words

Centric: Bruce Wayne & Jason Todd (father/son relation)

Trigger warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical death

Summary: which Bruce isn't Batman, but his children are still Robins.

Bruce was familiar with the "Robin" codename so many kids used to fight crime on their own. He already has met Dick Grayson, the little acrobatic orphan, so determined to protect the kids from bullies.

Dick was sometimes aggressive, Bruce couldn't say the contrary. He was surprised by how violently Robin beat the Wayne's kidnappers. Bruce couldn't blame him, that kid was an orphan, he needed to unleash his anger on something.

Many people didn't know how the famous billionaire playboy had soft spots for kids, especially orphans. After all, he was an orphan himself.

No one suspected a thing when the great Philanthropist adopted such a "poor helpless kid" like the little Grayson. It was funny how people theorized that the new Wayne was actually dating the mysterious Robin.

And still no one suspected when a new vigilante appeared on Bludhaven the same time the young Wayne moved away. Bruce was "alone" again. Even if he had Alfred, he missed his little Robin, but he was still proud of his Nightwing.

Then, there was a new kid. A new Robin. Such a bright smile and a great attitude, along with a fighting style obviously coming from the streets. The first time they met, he said to Bruce:

"Am I your new bodyguard now, old man?"

Wayne's memory of that day was clear as crystal, he remembers the boy headbutted one of the billionaire's kidnappers when saying that. That kid had a spark on his eyes, the spark Bruce already saw, on himself.

When the new Robin appeared in Bruce's life, the media joked about the philanthropist being a magnet to the vigilante children. And well, they weren't exactly wrong.

Besides Dick quickly revealing his identity to Bruce, it wasn't the same situation with the new kid. He even asked Alfred to do a research in all Gotham City's orphanages to find out more about the boy, but there was nothing, there was no one who looked like the new Robin. Bruce forgot the kid wasn't like Grayson, maybe he had parents, but would they really let a twelve-years-old fight crime?

Wayne offered the boy a decent Robin uniform, hence the kid's one was just dirty and fragile clothes that wouldn't help him fight crime. But the kid refused without thinking twice.

"I don't need your charity, old man. I know how to take care of myself."

The various scars on the kid's body proved he was lying. Even with the optimistic attitude and strength, there was still a truth: no Robin lasts too long.

Grayson was quite lucky, he became popular, he had support, he had Bruce. Dick was one of the only Robins who could grow up to be a better hero. It wasn't rare to see in the news about the police finding a body of a kid wearing red and green with a poorly sewed R brand.

And Bruce didn't want to see such a determined kid dead. But one night, he was just leaving a party, when he saw the kid fighting some thugs like always, but the boy obviously didn't have any advantage. Wayne's bodyguards got into action as he ordered, helping the little boy to win the fight.

But he was already unconscious. His small body was completely bruised, a reminder of a child who's already a soldier. It was unfair of a kid fighting against grown adults.

"Sir, he's still breathing."

So Bruce brought him home. It surprised Alfred to see him carrying a child in his arms again, he hadn't seen a scene like that since Dick had grown up.

When Grayson paid a visit in the next morning, he didn't expect to see a new Robin kid at the Wayne Manor. The butler told him about the last night, about how Bruce found him barely alive.

And the little boy was surprised when he woke up in a strange bed, in a strange room, with the billionaire old man he liked to provoke.

"Uhh, do you collect children or something?"

It was the first thing he said to Bruce when he woke up. He was still wearing his bloody clothes, but there was Dick's old clothes on the nightstand for him.

"Wasn't I supposed to be your bodyguard, old man? Not the contrary."

He tried to get off of the bed, but even after Alfred taking care of his wounds, it still hurt. Then, he just leaned back with his arms crossed over his chest. His temper was obviously different from Dick's, and he was way more stubborn.

"What's your name, kid?"

Bruce asked once again, even if everytime the answer was the same.

"None of your business."

And the boy wouldn't change his reply so easily.

"Listen to me, I really need your name, and your parents' phone number, they must be worried about you."

For some reason, that made the kid chuckle like it was a really bad joke.

"I'm Jason. Jason Todd. And my parents aren't exactly available, y'know?"

"... What do you mean?"

Bruce already expected an answer coming from Jason. But if he really was an orphan, why Alfred didn't find anything about him while searching?

"Well, old man, my parents are pretty much dead."

"But, but… I made searches about you, you aren't in any orphanage or foster system. Is there anyone who's taking care of you?"

"As I said before, I can take care of myself, old man."

"But you're a child."

"Wrong, I'm a Robin."

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose, not even Grayson was that stubborn, but still, he wasn't Grayson, he was Todd.

"Why were you fighting so many people? They were double your size and clearly on advantage against you."

"They were stopping me from reaching my goal."

"And what is it?"

For a moment, Jason looked at him like what he truly was, a lost kid. Then, he looked away, almost like he was holding his tears, hiding them from Bruce and himself. He needed to be strong, like a real Robin.

"It doesn't matter, alright? Thanks for saving me or whatever, but I can just go now."

"Where do you live?"

"What are you? A stalker?"

Jason replied quickly, being extremely defensive.

"Jason, you said your parents are dead, where do you live? And with who?"

"Nowhere, and with no one. I'm no one's son."

"You're a kid, you can't just live on the streets."

Bruce said, his voice getting more soft as he tried to gain Jason's trust.

"Am I your new charity project, old man? Will you adopt me just like you did with the other Robin?"

Dick was spying the conversation through the slightly open door, but he backed away when Jason mentioned him. The boy was smart enough to connect the dots between Dick Grayson-Wayne and the acrobatic boy wonder.

"Listen to me, Jason. You at least need a place to live, and I need to compensate for the times you saved me."

"I don't need your help."

Jason tried to get out of the bed once again, but his body was shaking, still weak. He looked like a helpless kid, and he hated that.

"Jason, please, at least let me pay you a place to live. I know being Robin doesn't pay you."

"... Fine. But remember, you're not my father, and I'm not your trophy son."

==========

Kids were supposed to be easy to deal with. But as Jason stated various times, he wasn't a kid, he was a Robin, and being Robin gave him magic.

Both Alfred and Dick were surprised when Bruce told them he bought an apartment for a "random kid". Jason wasn't a random kid to him… Even if they weren't actually close to each other.

There was a kind of new routine in the Wayne Manor, at least once a week the little Robin came to ask Alfred to help him with the worst wounds he got and couldn't patch them himself. And sometimes he also came to return Bruce back to safety after another attempt of criminals to kidnap Bruce.

"You need to learn how to take care of yourself, old man."

Jason joked, wiping the blood out of his nose, he smiled, even after being hurt because of another fight. He was used to it, and not for just being Robin. But it wasn't a problem anymore, he had his Robin's magic.

And if Bruce was lucky enough, the little Todd would come by for dinner. He was hard to convince, but he still enjoyed being with Bruce, Alfred and sometimes, Dick.

And in an "unfortunate night", according to Jason, Grayson made up a nickname for him, and never stopped using it. "Little Wing", it was how he called the boy.

"When I get older, I'll be taller than you. You'll see who's the little one!"

That just made Dick laugh at him, he said Jason looked cute when he tried to threaten someone, and Alfred hid the knives just to guarantee the boy wouldn't take extreme measures.

Bruce thought of Dick as a reflection of himself, but Jason was unique. The boy wasn't like any of the Waynes, he was in fact a Todd, he was not part of the family.

Grayson and him were Robins, but they were different. Even when Dick was violent, it doesn't compare to how bruised the pimps Jason fought were. The news said this Boy Wonder was crazy, aggressive, the worst Robin Gotham City ever had.

"I can't wait to find this kid dead in a dark alley."

It was what Jason overheard from a cop another day. Once the policeman and the young vigilante met again, the man had an "accident" during work that broke his arm.

Alfred noticed the little boy was smiling a lot during dinner that day, even more than usual. And the butler knew that smile, a smile of a child who just did a mischievous thing.

"Master Jason, did you have a lot of fun today?"

"A lot, Alfred."

One day, a body was found under a balcony, it was presumed the man was pushed to his death. And on that balcony, there was Robin, the possible culprit. And people accused a child of murder.

"I didn't kill him! And what if I did? He literally violated a woman!"

Jason tried to justify himself to Bruce, who was worried about the boy, as he was needing to hide himself, afraid of getting arrested.

"Jason, you can trust me, have you done it?"

Wayne asked him with a soft tone, trying to comfort the little boy. He tried to reach his hand to touch Jason's shoulder, but he stepped back.

"Bruce, do you really think I'm a murderer!?"

The man didn't answer, and Jason felt his heart breaking, the boy thought he could finally trust someone. But he was still seen as a criminal, even to the person he thought… The person he thought could be a new father to him.

"Jason… I…"

Bruce stopped himself, as he noticed something. The Robin was crying, and he was actually being a child, not a hero. A child in despair to be trusted.

"Jason… I'm…"

He didn't let Wayne finish, he just ran away out of the manor. And Bruce didn't stop him. He broke the boy's trust, and he didn't deserve to say anything to him.

Bruce tried to be the father of a no one's son. And nobody is surprised he failed. The Wayne Manor isn't supposed to be a place for kids like Jason, who fought fate itself to survive.

But, a week later, the investigation stopped, Robin was no longer a suspect. It was very sudden, but the detectives with a new big quantity of money in their pockets wouldn't justify it.

And in the same night the investigations stopped. In the same rainy night, the window of the Wayne Manor was opened by an "intruder", who noticed the great Philanthropist on the couch, like he was waiting for someone.

The little "intruder" sat down with him, his head leaned on his shoulder. Bruce caressed the boy's soaked hair, which startled him a little bit, but he slowly gave in.

"I'm sorry, Jason."

Despite Bruce's morals, his codes, the laws. He would do anything for his sons, no matter what. And Jason knew that, and he finally felt safe.

==========

Jason spent his fourteenth and fifteenth birthday with the Waynes, and even if he didn't say it, he wanted to spend all his birthdays with them.

It didn't matter if the boy wasn't in the charity galas like Dick was. It didn't matter if he didn't show himself publicly as a Wayne. Bruce saw Jason as his little bird, as his son.

And Bruce was really proud of his son. Like Grayson, he was a hero. He watched how Todd was growing up, how he was growing better, and he was a hero Bruce could never be.

The Robin was always around in the manor, even if he wouldn't easily admit, he felt at home. All the dinners, the sleepovers, the movie nights, it felt like home. He finally had a home to come back to by the end of the day.

Bruce would make a surprise for Jason, finally getting the paperwork to adopt the little bird, to finally call him "son". It would be a surprise gift, right after him coming back from patrol as Robin.

Wayne waited excited, he knew Todd would be equally happy. He was so proud of what he became, and will be more proud when he finally can call this hero his son.

It was already late, and he still didn't come back. He tried calling him, hoping he just went directly to his apartment that night, it would be understandable, but nobody picked up the phone.

Bruce turned on the television, maybe Jason was late because he was in the middle of a big situation. It already happened sometimes, so it wouldn't be different from those times. But all that he heard was nothing about one of the Robins.

But Jason, he only heard the sound of his ribs breaking after yet another hit with that crowbar. His vision was completely blurry, and it was so hard to breathe. He looked over the woman that smoked while he was in pain.

Jason never told Bruce about how he was searching for his biological mother, just Alfred was helping him secretly, and he made the butler promise he wouldn't tell anyone.

But the little Robin didn't expect his mother to be a backstabber, and in that exact moment, the metal hit his back, breaking even more ribs. Then, he heard laughter.

The laughter of a maniac clown, the one who was enjoying so much causing pain to him. Sometimes he even joked about it, like it was the most funny thing to watch.

"Uh oh, the little bird got a broken wing, maybe your mommy could help you… Oops!"

Then, more laughter followed by another hit that made his eyes water again. Jason was feeling so weak, feeling the cold floor and his own blood accumulating under him.

"D-dad…"

Jason cried out, his voice hoarse and weak. That brought his mother's attention, she knew Willis Todd was dead. But that wasn't the father her son was calling for. He was calling for Bruce, even if he wasn't a vigilante like him, even if he couldn't fight anyone.

Jason just wanted to be in his father's arms again, even if he's dying. He just wanted to be home again.

"Awn, look! Little bird is calling for daddy. What a pity!"

He sobbed in silence, he couldn't give that clown the happiness for breaking him. Jason was broken, very broken, but still, he shouldn't cry, Bruce would probably be disappointed at him.

If his biological mother betrayed him, backstabbed him without thinking twice, Bruce would never save him, even if he knew about his current situation.

The boy's mind became foggy, probably because of so many times his head got hit by that fucking crowbar. The psychopath clown wasn't there anymore, but his mother was tied up. His only memories were of untying her, and a ticking sound, then, nothing.

Bruce found himself awake until very late, even if his mind felt asleep, it woke up, and unfortunately, to the sound of Vicki Vale's voice.

"... A sudden explosion occurred in a warehouse in Gotham City's south area. The GCPD is investigating what might have caused it."

The camera showed a lot of rubble, and various policemen around the area, searching for clues and possible bodies. And they found it.

"Attention! The police just found the body of a child!"

Bruce became startled, his heart was getting tight on his chest, and the tears were ready to come. And when the camera zoomed to a very familiar boy's body, he felt broken.

He didn't get any time for any other type of reaction, his emotions were taking total control of him, Bruce was no longer acting rational. Minutes later, he was exiting the car right in front of the crime scene.

"I can't believe it, Mister Wayne! What are you doing here!?"

And similar reactions were heard by him, but completely ignored as he walked towards his son's body, which was being taken by the police.

"Mister Wayne, you shouldn't come closer, this is a crime scene."

They tried to stop Wayne, but they failed, as he got Jason's limp body in his arms. The boy was already so cold, his eyes still open, all the blue going away. The blood was still wet, staining Bruce's clothes, but he didn't care.

His little bird was dead. His son was dead. Bruce thought the pain of his parents' death was unbearable, but he never thought he would have his son's body in his arms, so cold, so lifeless.

Bruce carefully closed the corpse's eyes, so it looked like the boy was just sleeping, but he knew he wasn't. He held his son tighter to his chest, and screamed. His screams were so painful, as his heart was completely shattered.

Alfred made sure the police and the media wouldn't talk about that moment. And the butler also made sure the boy would be buried with the Waynes, as he should be.

Jason wasn't as lucky as Dick, he wasn't an exception. His end was just like the other Robins. Dead, found brutally killed.

Grayson really wanted to see Jason grow up to prove he wasn't his Little Wing anymore. Grayson wished he could call his little brother his Big Wing.

Alfred really wanted to see Jason's mischievous smile once again. Alfred wished he could bake Jason's sixteenth birthday cake.

Bruce really wished he could have saved Jason. Bruce really wished he could see Jason's smile again. Bruce really wished to hear Jason calling him old man again.

Bruce wanted his little bird back.

==========

Both the media and the GCPD didn't want to admit it, but Gotham got worse after Jason's death. He was one of the best Robins the city ever had.

Dick spent more time in Gotham since that, to act both as Nightwing and comfort Bruce. Wayne needed his son to be with him, and even if Grayson wasn't the son he wanted, he wanted to make his father happy.

They just didn't expect to find Bruce's neighbor inside of the manor, wearing a Robin costume, while having the worst dark bags under his eyes.

Somehow, the little boy knew about the relation Bruce had with the Robins, he knew about Dick and also knew about Jason. The Waynes started to think that kid was a stalker.

The boy was Timothy Drake, who was clearly obsessed with the Robin concept, and the fact the most important Robins of the city were his neighbors, it made him very excited. Even if one was gone.

"C'mon, Bruce, could you resist this kid puppy's eyes?"

Somehow, Dick convinced the philanthropist to not report the kid to his parents, or even to the police. And Tim's parents didn't seem to care about his safety, since he was just running around as Robin without them worrying about him.

And the story repeated itself, with Bruce having another Robin under his wing. He expected the story would go differently, and he wouldn't need to hold his son's body again.

The years were going through, and still, every single day Bruce had visited Jason's grave, but still, he wasn't in the moment his son dug out of his own grave.

It wasn't a surprise when the philanthropist was once again kidnapped, criminals really liked abducting rich people. But he wasn't in panic, it was just like another Saturday, and he was just waiting for Tim to show up.

But it wasn't a Robin who showed up. A person with a red helmet entered the room, and even if Bruce nor the criminals could see his face, they knew he was pissed.

"You idiots can't do a thing right, I told you to not get him. You should give me a reason to not explode your heads right now."

The mysterious man said, and Bruce could feel some familiarity in his voice. The criminals didn't even dare to blink in the wrong moment, obviously scared by their leader.

"You should all go, and if any of you try eavesdropping, I'll cut your ears off."

They all exited immediately, even Wayne was scared by his attitude. And for some reason, he was freeing him from the restraints. That was a very different kind of mob boss.

"Sorry for the inconvenience, old man. I don't hurt you and you don't call those pigs, are we good?"

Bruce looked at him suspiciously, everything was so familiar, but he couldn't point it out.

"Also, don't call your bird boys, do you hear me?"

"You mean the Robins?"

"Exactly, old man. You keep collecting them, apparently. So, just leave, call your butler to take you or whatever."

"Why are you just letting me go?"

"Damn, how ungrateful of you. It's because you're not a bad rich person, if you were some like, I don't know, Lex Luthor, you'd be already dead."

"... Thanks."

"Just go already."

And when Bruce left the building, he almost immediately found Tim, who was in his Robin uniform. If Jason was alive, he would feel replaced.

Days later, the news was just about the infamous Red Hood, who was cleaning up the streets from crime, while staining them with blood.

And still, somehow, the Red Hood and Bruce kept meeting, as criminals still tried to steal from him. And for some reason, a mob boss was determined to protect him.

"Am I your new bodyguard now, old man?"

That phrase, those exact words, they were so familiar, it reminded him of his son. But if Jason was alive, he would think he was forgotten.

"Do I… Do I know you?"

Bruce asked, searching for eye contact even if the man hid his face behind that helmet.

"I saved your ass sometimes. Geez, old man, have you already forgotten? Most of the time, people don't forget about a man with a red helmet."

"No, it's not it. I feel like we've met before. Before all this."

If Jason was alive, he would think his father just moved on after his death.

"What if we did meet? Does something change?"

"You… You remind me of my son."

"Your… Son?"

If Jason was alive, he would have thought his death was meaningless to Bruce, or to anyone.

"My son, Jason."

And he was alive. The Red Hood removed his helmet, revealing the face Bruce missed seeing. Jason was older, but it was still him, even if he was changed. It was still his son.

Bruce was in complete shock as he tried to process the information his son was alive. Jason thought his father would back down, run away from the pain, he must have done the same when he was dead, right?

But Bruce's arms were wrapped around him, hugging him tightly, like he was afraid he would lose his son again. Jason gasped in surprise, but returned the hug. He thought his dad forgot about him, but he didn't.

Wayne cried on his shoulder, and he noticed how tall his son got. He was his little bird, but he was so big now, completely grown up.

"Bruce…"

"I missed you, little bird, I missed you so much."

#dc comics #robin jason #jason todd #Bruce Wayne #good dad bruce wayne #angst with a happy ending #hurt/comfort #no capes au #kinda #mentioned Dick Grayson #mentioned Tim Drake #red hood #no beta we die like Jason #bat family #robins #oneshot #brucie wayne #civilian bruce au

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rosaliasregalia · 1 month

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Hey y'all! I'm writing a Cursed!Tim fic, where he will get cursed just as Bruce is saved from the timestream. He'll survive and gain magic-ish powers.

It's not a bashing fic, we don't demonize anyone for being humans and making mistakes in this house, nor will I be infantilize Tim, he'll be a capable vigilante and (he might be a bit emotionally challenged /affectionate/ but generally) someone who knows his worth.

I'm looking for a beta to help me with the story, I don't know if there will be slash yet but there is going to be some gore and canon-typical violence, so if that sounds fun to you, and you're interested, please let me know!

#oh god it's gonna be so embarrassing when no body responds #but I want to be upfront about the story #it's not exactly light and fluffy #there will be fun shenanigans but also realism #so if you're interested #I'm looking for a beta reader #so that we don't die like all the other robins #beta reader #tim drake #batfam #batman #batfamily #red robin #dc comics

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hereforanepilogue · 1 year

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everything that i say and do (in your eyes is always wrong)

read on ao3

After Vecna, Eddie tried to make himself…not different, but more palatable. It wasn’t even hard - the doctors had shaved his head while he was out, and all his clothes had sunk into the Upside Down with the trailer.

He wasn’t normal - he never would be - but if he tried to quiet down? Wore plainer clothes, and played his music quieter in the van, and didn’t go back to playing with the band (as if their parents would have let him up the driveway, as if he had a guitar to play)? It wasn’t hard.

It made it easier on Wayne, on the kids. On Steve.

And wasn’t that a surprise? He hadn’t expected to be left in the dirt, after Vecna, if he survived. He just expected the slow withdrawal, as the kids aged out of hanging out with a high school dropout, and as the older group went off to college. But they clung, and people weren’t kind to them, and Eddie being a little less made that a little easier.

Then Steve kissed him, and told him he wanted more, and that one day they would get out of there together. If only Eddie could hold out a little while longer. He watched Robin and Wheeler the Elder go off to college, and the little sheepies got busy with their own campaigns in the secret, under-the-table Hellfire, but Eddie had Wayne and Steve.

Eddie almost forgot why he started acting like he did in the first place.

“You know,” Wayne told him one day - they were even more like ships in the night now, with Wayne still working nights from the new trailer and Eddie shacked up with Steve half the time - “I don’t know what happened in March, but you ain’t been this quiet since you were about this high.” He’d held his hand up in front of his ribs.

Eddie had been twelve when he moved in with Wayne, and he guessed he must look closer to that kid now than he had in years. So he started trying to fix it. He hunted in earnest for a new leather jacket, and a new denim jacket so he could cannibalize his bloodstained old vest, and band shirts to replace his old ones. It was thrilling, honestly, after he stopped mourning for what he’d lost.

Still, the transformation was a slow one. He still got glares when he showed his face around town, and even when he was with Steve [his knight, his ever-present guardian] they couldn’t be affectionate. And he understood that, obviously. He was always being watched, they had to be extra careful, and he knows it would be worse for Steve, who’s always been golden. A freak can get away with a certain level of freakiness, even when he’s playing at normal.

It comes to a head almost a year after the boathouse.

~~~

“When are we getting out of here?” Eddie moans, draped over the couch. His hair is long enough to tickle the base of his neck annoyingly. Steve is in the other room, cooking - he never liked to use the trailer if they could avoid it. He didn’t want to get in Wayne’s space.

“Soon, man. When the kids graduate, maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“I mean -”

“I just. I don’t know how much longer I can do this, you know?” Steve walks into the living room, glancing at the hook in the foyer where Eddie’s new and improved battle vest was hanging. Some of the patches still had blood stains on them.

“You could make it a little easier for them, I guess.”

“What?” Eddie is suddenly, painfully aware of the awkwardness of his pose, his arms twisted to press his hands into the crevice at the back of the couch, feet stuck between the cushions, head hanging over the edge. But he’s frozen.

“I just -” Steve sighs and scrubs his hand down his face, then rests it on his hip. He leans into the doorframe, in a move that Eddie knows is one of his worst plays at being casual. “You’re - you know I - you’re getting weird again, and people are still freaked out by everything that happened.”

“I’m getting weird again?”

“That came out wrong, you know -”

“I’ve always been weird, Steve, what are you talking about?”

“I mean you’re showing it now! I know you want to dress how you want to dress, but it just - maybe it’s not time yet.”

“Should I cut my hair again too?” Eddie scrambles to sit up, and ends up having to slither off of the couch on his belly. He just stands up instead.

“I mean, it wouldn’t hurt, you could grow it out later?” Steve protests. Something is starting to burn in the kitchen, but neither of them move.

“It’s not -” Eddie takes a breath. This is why he never tried hard to talk to people who didn’t come to him, he thinks. He’s never had to explain this before. “I’m not just dressing like this because I like it. I mean I am, but it’s not…it’s not just that.”

“What do you mean, it’s not just because you like it? That doesn’t make any sense. And I’m not saying don’t dress like you want at - at my place, and at home and stuff. Just maybe not when you’re -”

“What, in public? Around the good, God-fearing public of Hawkins who were just out for my blood a year ago? I’m not like you, Steve, that doesn’t work for me.”

And Eddie has never been good at thinking fast, when it comes to serious things. He’s snappy, sure, he’s never not had a comeback to a bully, or to his friends’ ribbing, but he could never figure out how he felt, and he’s no better at it now. He’s just empty. Faramir on the way to Osgiliath, knowingly doomed.

But he knows he isn’t that, either, because he’s never been destined to win. And Steve still hasn’t said anything.

“Is that it? You - what - you’re just gonna bait them until they kill you?”

“I don’t want to be here anymore,” Eddie says.

“We can’t leave yet, Eddie.”

“I can’t stay here,” he can feel his brain melting into a stuck record, and he doesn’t know what will happen if he tries to move but he has to try, right? “I want to leave, I don’t want to be here.”

“Is that all you have to say?”

“Yes.” He feels possessed. “I will say no more yet.”

And he leaves, and Steve doesn’t stop him. He has the forethought to grab his jacket, at least, and when he gets to his car it occurs to him that he left a stack of tapes in Steve’s room last night, but Steve didn’t follow him and he can’t go back, so he pushes them out of his mind and drives away.

One of them was his new copy of The Last in Line and he thinks about having to replace his favorite album twice in one year, and then he’s home and he doesn’t know how he got there.

“Wayne?” he says as he walks into the trailer. Whines, really, his voice has gone all weak, but Wayne hears it (he always does) and sits up on the couch. It’s early for him to be up, earlier than they would usually eat their breakfast/dinner, but Eddie had planned to bring leftover’s from Steve’s.

“What’s wrong, kid?”

“I - remember when you talked to Ray about transfers?”

“C’mere,” Wayne says, and Eddie lets himself be pulled into Wayne’s space like a magnet. He sits next to him, close enough to feel his body heat and get overwhelmed by the scent of oil and metal that follows him home from the plant. Wayne rests his hand between Eddie’s shoulder blades, and he’s twelve again.

“It’d be nice not to have to wash paint off the walls every weekend, right?” Eddie says. He can feel the pause where he might have laughed, if he could’ve landed the tone he wanted.

“What happened?” Wayne says. It’s not the “let’s go, grab your bag” that Eddie is secretly barely-not-hoping for, but Wayne has always known him better than anyone.

“I just can’t do this anymore,” Eddie says. Wayne opens his mouth, so Eddie reassures him. “Nothing happened. I mean, something - I just can’t keep acting like this. I’m not. I tried, I really did, but I can’t make it work.”

“Ah, kid,” Wayne says. It’s the voice Wayne had used when Eddie got sent home in the fourth grade for crouching on a desk and barking at a kid who made fun of him, when Eddie had gone to Wayne’s trailer instead of his parents’. He’d used it when Eddie showed up with his hair buzzed off the first time when he was seven, and he’d used it after the cop that dropped Eddie off after his dad’s last arrest had left, and he’d used it both times Eddie told him he’d flunked.

Eddie leans into it, lets his forehead drop on Wayne’s shoulder.

“I’ll - I’m not just running, okay? I just thought I could hold out, and I can’t. And I don’t think he’s ever gonna leave, you know?”

“S - Harrinton?” Eddie’s mouth twists at the correction, and Wayne taps on his back - once, one finger - when he tenses up. Eddie leans towards him, just a hair, then leans back.

“Yeah.”

“Did he say that?”

“I mean, I don’t really remember. He - he told me I’m weird again and that I should tone it down.” Wayne rubs his hand up and down Eddie’s back once, then stills again.

“Well, that’s bullshit there, kiddo. I’ve never met a person alive that wasn’t a bit weird, and anyone who says they ain’t is kidding themselves. How’s that song you like go again?”

“‘You’re no dif-’ It’s not the same, though.”

“Look, Ed.” Wayne sighs. “You were never good at hiding how you were different, and that ain’t a bad thing, but it means you’ve gotta find people who’ll stick to you anyway.”

“I know. It’s not his fault, though. That I’m hard to stick to.”

“You ain’t, though,” Wayne says. “You know this kind of thing ain’t easy, even if it’s just your time isn’t matched up to his.”

“I just don’t think he’s ever gonna leave, and I can’t - I can’t stay here. I can’t be like this anymore.”

“So do what you’ve gotta do, and tell them what it is and why. Give them a path to follow you down, if they’re ever ready.”

Eddie takes a shaky breath - he doesn’t know when it got so hard to breathe, but it’s starting to get better.

“Okay. I. I’ll call tomorrow?” He looks at Wayne’s hand, curled loosely over his uncle’s knee. It’s as close to Wayne’s face as he can get his eyes to go.

“Sounds good, Ed. I’ll start looking into a transfer - nothing permanent, if you change your mind, but I know you’re not like to bring it up if you’re not serious, so just get your end of things worked out and I’ll get mine.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m sorry I’m not easier.” Wayne is quiet for a moment.

“Don’t be sorry, kid. You being miserable isn’t easier.” He taps between Eddie’s shoulders again, then gets up. “I think it’s breakfast time, anyway. Eggs good?” Eddie nods, but Wayne is already on his way to the kitchen.

~~~

The next day he calls around - the guys in the band first, always. Then Steve, before he talks to Robin or Nancy or the kids. The conversations are all short, but he knows it’ll be a couple weeks before Ray can get Wayne set up at his cousin’s plant out of state, so there’s time.

“You know I l- care about you, Eds. Eddie.”

“I know. I don’t wanna not be with you, I just can’t keep living like this. And I don’t know if you’ll ever be able to leave.”

“I’m just not ready yet. When the kids graduate, I’ll think about it.”

“That’s the problem, Stevie.” Eddie feels - not numb, but distant. Like someone turned a key and his thoughts are flowing in order and he has the words for them, and he has to say them even when it feels like the worst thing he’s ever said. “You’re not even thinking about an after, and all I have is an after. The only thing I have waiting for me in Hawkins is hiding everything about myself until I suffocate.”

“I’m in Hawkins. And the kids,” Steve says. He would sound controlled to anyone else, but as always, Eddie knows his tells, and he’s breaking.

“I love you, but I can’t hide forever. And you might be able to, if you want to, but you shouldn’t have to either. We’re not going far - Wayne’s getting a job in Pittsburgh, I think. Right on the way to Robin’s, if you wanna visit.” Steve gulps, and Eddie gets the abrupt sense that Steve thinks he’s lying. “I - I mean that, really. I’m not gonna promise I’ll wait for you, not forever, but I’m not exactly gonna get over you, you know?”

“You love me?”

“I do, yeah,” Eddie says.

“But you’re leaving.”

“I’m gonna die here, Steve, even if I don’t get burned at the stake. It’s not - I’m not me, anymore, and I can’t keep pretending, and it’s not just how I dress or whatever. I know I’m not normal, but it’s not a choice any more than being a queer is, so I’ll get you my new number, and when - if - you’re ready, I’ll pick up.”

“Okay. I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

~~~

Two weeks later, the last Munsons in Hawkins pack up and leave.

read on ao3

#eddie munson #steve harrington #wayne munson #steddie #steddie ficlet #ria planted this idea into my brain with a song a week and a half ago and ive been gnawing on it since then #like its me so obviously steve will figure out what he wants out of life and find it w eddie and robin there #and theyll all be okay #but not yet unforch #eddie munson is autistic #also i cant write eddie pov without him having a meltdown #thats my secret cap im always projecting #no beta we die like steve in s5 #gratuitous lotr references #my fic

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missbluesunflowersstuff · 8 months

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(Kinda) Reverse Robin AU but in a Time Travel way

During a mission Damian it is thrown in the past. It's took a few minutes to undestend what happen, and now we have a little babybat run around the old Gotham trying to figure out how he come back to his time.

He and Batman don't get a long in the first; Damian tried very hard avoid the bat and Bruce chases him wanting to know if he is an enemy or a friend. But everything change when Grayson incident ocorred.

Damian, who tried being invisible, can't ignore that inciddent and fight together with Bruce for the first time since he got there. Obviously they both meet little Dick and Bruce, seeing that there is kindness in Robin (Damian's hero name) and that Damian also wants to help Gotham, decides to take those two boys home (Dick 8 and Damian 16)

Damian don't allow Dick patrol at first, because he is a little kid and stuff. Dick disagree but can't win for now.

"Why you dress yourself like that?" - little Dick

"My hero name is Robin and this is Robin bird colors" - Damian

"Why do Gotham heroes have such bad fashion style? When I'm a hero I'll dress in different colors" - Dick

"Wait..." Damian realize why Robin dress themself like that

Dick still get training but Damian keep saying no patrol. But one night Damian get hurt and Bruce is busy in the other side of the city, then Dick runs for help the young hero. Knowing that there is no way to stop Dick from becoming a hero, Damian makes him promise that he will always patrol alongside Bruce until Dick is ready enough to go alone.

"You turn me a babysister?" - Bruce

"I think the voices in your head will enjoy Grayson's company more than I do, Mister Wayne" - Damian will call Bruce Mister Wayne forever in this timeline

This where Batman and Robin is born. In the same time, Damian start call himlsef Nightwing.

Several months pass and now Damian have a new target, a little boy from the crime gallery. Damian is following this boy for days now, where he's live, where he getting his food and everything. The babybat is collection information about Catherine Todd and Jason Todd.

Damian plan to introduce himself properly, but the whole plan goes sideways when he sees little Jason surrounded by a group of older men, who were very angry with Jason because the boy was stealing from them all the time.

Then now Jason is ready to get hurt, he knows he can't win that fight and those men will hurt him badly until the unexpected happen and Damian save Jason. In the first the little redhood just run away from the Gotham protector. But Damian is in Jason door next day with a bag full of food (Damian decide goes at supermarket and buy stuff for Jason).

Damian start spend time at Crime Gallery and help the people there and also Todd family. He actually move Jason and his mother for a better place and help Catherine stop using drugs, and also keep both save from Jason's father.

Catherine becomes Alfred's assistant (Damian just wants an excuse to keep the eyer on her while take a care of Jason). They're happy after that for a while.

Also, Damian decide call the little stalker to play with his younger bothers. Damian know that in the past he and his sibilings don't go all well, but now Damian just want to make those kids happy because only him can bully his brother and Damian also have a lot of compasion inside him (you can see that in the way he saves Goliath and he desire to create a space for the others kids in that tournament).

Tim start play with Jason, who see Tim as a baby (Jason is protector, he is a child from the crime gallery, he knows how cruel and terrible the world is and he doesn't want another child to be traumatized the same way he was). Somehow Damian maneges to bring Steph and Cass to home (no one dare to ask).

Also, Damian incentive Dick to leave Batman and give him the Nightwing name. Bruce and Damian have the most funny relantionship in all timeline, sometimes they're brothers, sometimes they're friends and sometimes Damian just distance himself for everything and stay in silence.

Everyone can see the boy had problems. Damian have a lot of nightmares, like a lot. He can't spend one night without nightmares. And sometimes Damian wake up scream and crying. Damian has scar for all his body, one makes illusion that he was impaled by a sword once (this one is the worst, Dick and Bruce still don't know how react to its after all those years).

Unfortunately, the bats can't live happily for long and Catherine dies while Jason is patrolling alongside Bruce. Canon events happen after that and Jason almost dies this time, but Damian saves Jason because he knows magic well enough to heal Jason body.

Things just go downhill after that. Jason doens't undestend why Damian wants save him, him after all the boys! Jason never brings joy for anymore. He never did something good in his past, he never deserver this, he should die longside with him biologic mother, this would be the best. Why Damian kill the joker in that way?

And now Bruce and Damian are yelling with each other in the hall. All the other kids hear their fight. Damian then decide go away from Gotham and Bruce closed himself. Jason then decide go away as well. Travel around the world. Jason still keep send letters to Alfred and occasionally to Tim.

Tim doesn't like to see his family fight like that (his own parents do this occasionally and he doesn't want the batfam end like his own house). Tim actually tries to get Dick back home, but fails unfortunately.

Tim turn Robin and fight alongside with Batman, while Steph and Cass goes after Damian (they and Tim made this plan because they're worry about this two idiots). When every plan fails, Steph use then her screat weapon, Tim's fake tears.

This boy just start ugly sob for Damian come back and this work!

"Why do I let you manipulate me this way, Drake?" - Damian after his come back

Damian is no a hero anymore at moment, he just vibes and sometimes work as mercenary (Bruce hates it btw but but he never controlled damian’s actions anyway), Damian also have long hair (He tries to distance himself from Bruce's image so no one suspects anything, surprisingly he became more like Talia and his grandfather as an adult. Taller and slim, with the same elegant walk)

Some time after Cass plays as Orphan, Jason come back and want be an antihero, protect the crime galery people and others. The family actually fight because "Batman doesn't kill". Bruce try to be the hero, "kill a villian don't make you better than them" but Jason doesn't want to hear (again this boy see a lot in that place, he travel the world and when he comes back that place just became worse! WTF)

All of them start fight until Alfred called everyone out.

Damian decide reunite his brothers and tell them his story. He was just a child soldier and how this affected him the wrong way, he had a big family but all his older brothers are dead now, and he also died one time, but he was brings back because Lazaru pit.

"The problem here, Jason, isn't 'kill a killer and the numbers will stay the same', the problem here is: Will you be able to live with yourself after committing this crime? Because one moment you'll stop to react the murders, and when this happen you'll die. I'll not try to stop you, I just want that you don't push yourself so hard like this" - Damian to Jason

Redhood is there anyway. Bruce is a little annoyed but he allow Jason to use the bat symbol because Bruce also miss the boy together with Alfred.

More time pass and Damian knows that everything will end soon. Then he rent an apartment near Thomas's family and start give the boy combat and management skill lessons (yeah this is because the gang).

One day a big bad stuff happen and Damian sacrifice himself to save Gotham. He die happy because this time he became the brother his brothers deserved, someone who would help them and not screw them up. He die happy for his family.

Some random thought about this AU:

Damian just turn himself in the weird cryptid he truly is in this timeline. He constantly explains things with Arabic and Chinese fables to his brothers. Is Dick in trouble on the Titans? A Chinese fable about how a warrior overcame an obstacle. Tim fell and broke his tooth? An Arabic fable about a rabi and a king. Damian doesn't care if this make sense or not, he just wants to annoy his brothers with his knowledge

Also Damian taught them to speak Chinese and Arabic

Ras and Talia find out about Damian when he and Bruce fight. The boy manages to change Ras' heart during this time (don't ask how), Al Ghul family keep like that but less evil and bloody.

All member of Justice League think in Damian as Bruce's annoy young brother. Thomas Wayne was the worsted husband at this point and they refuse to believe outside.

Damian isn't a Justice League member and refuse all the invitation.

He also fight with Oliver Queen after the green arrow kicks Roy out. (he and Ollie doesn't spoken with each other since then)

Damian also yells with Clark about the Kon situation

Damian stopped using a mask to cover his face a long time ago, he doesn't bother to protect his identity because no one is looking for him there and then this becomes a habit of him, so he never uses a mask (he doesn't care for what Bruce says)

Also after Damian got hurt and Dick saves him (in Dick first night as Robin), Damian wake up in the cave with Alfed take a care of him, and:

"Don't worry, master Damian, I put the right blood in you" - Alfred

"How?" - Damian

"I don't know how you did this, or why you're here, but I recognize Mister Martha's smile on your face. So when you're ready to explain, I'll listen to you" - Alfred

#dc comics #damian wayne #jason todd #dick grayson #tim drake #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #batfam #batfamily #reverse robin time travel au #no beta we die like robin #my writing dc comics

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pez-and-quiet · 11 months

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Sweetheart (mini fic possible more parts)

also on a03

Steve and Robin sat by the phone impatenitly, waiting for the call that would change their lives. Steve sighed and stood up, i’m going to grab some water want anything” he asked Robin before heading to the kitchen.

Robin grabbed his arm to pull him back onto the couch, you can't leave, what if they call, i'm horrible on the phone.” she complained

He laughed, “then why did i make you my personal assistant? hmm” He raised one eyebrow in a questioning way sending robin falling off the couch and onto the floor.

The phone rang, Robin raced to grab it. “Hello, Harrigton residence, Robin speaking. Oh” she paused a undeciferable look on her face “oh, alright i’ll call him now” She put the phone against her shoulder to block the microphone. “MR.HARRINGTON! There’s a call for you, it’s the record label” Steve shook his head at her shenanigans. “He’ll be right with you” Robin told the other side of the phone.

“So??” Steve mouthed to her excitement brewing in him like a cup of coffee, Robin shrugged,

“They wanted to talk to you” she mouthed back at him. She handed him the phone looking more anxious than he was.

“Hello, Steve Harrington speaking, my assistant said you were wanting to talk to me.” He paused waiting for a response.

“Ah yes, Steve Harrington. I have some big news for you son!” It was the record label producer he had talked to a few months ago. “You’ve been signed by Starlight Records!” There was nothing that could wipe the grin off his face, he had done it, he had made it into the music industry and he hadn’t done it for himself, he had done it for Eddie.

“Really! That’s amazing!” Steve answered calmly enough that he still sounded excited but not like a maniac. “What are the next steps?” He asked

There was a pause on the other side of the line, a bit of rifling through papers “Well were moving you out to New York to record the rest of your album, did you decided on a name for it?”

Steve nodded, they couldn’t see him but nodding was fun, “Yes, it’s called Sweetheart. He told the producer excitedly. It hadn’t taken him long to come up witht he name, it was one of the pet names Eddie ahd called him before he disappeared three months after everything that happened. Steve didn’t even get a goddamn letter.

“Alright then Steve, well work out the details later I’ll let you go and celebrate with your friends” The producer said goodbye and the phone line went silent.

Robin looked up at him from the floor, “So did you get it?” she asked impatiently

“What do you think?” Steve asked her, smirking, Robin jumped up off the floor and gave Steve the biggest hug she’s probably ever given him. “Jeez Rob, i need to breathe if i'm going to be recording an album” he laughed “also how do you feel about moving to New York with me?”

part 2 -> here

part 3 -> here

#platonic stobin #eddie munson #robin buckley #steddie #steve harrington #stranger things #ronance #eddie x steve #mini fic #based on a taylor swift song #Marjorie taylor swift #ao3 tags #no beta we die like barb #rockstar eddie munson #sweetheart minific

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jinjeriffic · 2 months

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DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 6

Part 5

Most of the time, being the son of Batman was a point of pride for Damian. Today, it was an exercise in frustration. Not only had Father deemed him too emotionally compromised to participate in the investigation of his so-called brother. Not only was he benched from patrol until Batman returned from abroad. He also had to continue attending school as if nothing had happened! He could probably teach most of the classes better than the adults! Oh, but ‘socializing with his peers’ was deemed too important to miss out on.

No wonder Damian was in a foul mood when he returned home. It had been the last school day before fall break, and a week ago he had been looking forward to the opportunity to patrol without having to worry about getting up early in the morning. Then that damned apparition had dropped the bombshell that had upended all of Damian’s carefully laid plans. Now half of the family was off chasing leads and he was stuck at home cooling his heels. It wasn’t fair!

After doing his customary check on his pets, he had changed into training gear as soon as possible and was now in the process of running through the latest combat program Father had designed. The flow of dodge-weave-counter-strike was helping him vent his frustration and clear his head. And if the training bots ended up more damaged than usual, well that just served Father right. He wasn’t some hapless child to be grounded!

Spin. Strike. Jump. Slash. He was moving on instinct, letting his training take over. A symphony of violence the background track to his churning thoughts, the questions that had been plaguing him all week.

Brother of blood. What did that mean? A full brother? A half brother? The result of some ill-advised dalliance of his Father? Unlikely. The letter had been addressed to Damian Al Ghul, not Damian Wayne. A deliberate choice of words, most likely. A child of his Mother then. He couldn’t imagine Mother would sully herself with another man’s touch. Even after everything, she still loved Father in her own twisted way. Unless Grandfather had ordered her… Stop it!

Stab. Crouch. Roll. Slice.

Never buried but already mourned. Not a lab grown creation then, to be discarded casually. Mourning meant caring. Love. Did Father know something? The haunted look that had appeared in his eyes spoke of old grief. The same grief that still plagued him when memories of Todd or Damian’s death were close to the surface. But he had never spoken of another child. Would he even bother to tell them?

Strike. Throw. Close distance. Disarm.

Lightning and ice. Defibrillation? Some horror movie style reanimation? Cryofreeze? The entity had meta abilities, could it harness lightning and ice as well? A better son, a more powerful Demon’s Heir… No!

Side-step. Kick. Twist. Leg-sweep.

Strike down the Demon’s Head. Did that mean Grandfather? Or Damian himself if the old man died first? It would be just like Grandfather to arrange for Damian to be killed and replaced by a brother. To get revenge for Damian choosing Batman’s legacy over the League’s while hurting their family in the most intimate way possible. Killed by a brother he should have loved, who should have loved him… Fool!

Damian stopped as the gong sounded to mark the end of the program. Around him, the training bots returned to their starting positions, now significantly worse for wear. A few of them were disabled to the point of uselessness.

Damian sheathed his weapons and forced his breathing to slow as he started his cool down stretches. It wouldn’t do to be careless because of some emotional episode. He was more disciplined than that.

What could Death earn anyway? Death brought nothing but nightmares and pain and torment.

Damian shivered. He didn’t like thinking about his Death.

Shoving the memories firmly aside, he returned his training weapons to their respective places before heading over to the Batcomputer. He needed a distraction. Maybe he should call up Jon and see if he had any plans for fall break. Since Damian was benched he would need something constructive to do with his time. Surely with the two of them working together they would find some kind of criminal enterprise to topple in a Kansas cornfield.

Damian compiled the search strings for any unusual activity in the area and set it to run. Now it was a waiting game to see if anything of note turned up. Leaning back, he idly kicked the console, sending his chair into a lazy spin. If nothing turned up in Kansas, maybe he would widen his search to the surrounding states. If they flew Air Superboy, distance would hardly be an issue. Hell, if Jon was busy maybe he could go visit Richard. Bludhaven was never lacking in crime, and Father wouldn’t be able to complain about a lack of appropriate supervision during patrol. With Drake and Todd having left on a ‘roadtrip’ for at least a day…

Damian stopped his spinning and frowned. Now that he thought about it, it was highly unusual for his two older brothers to have left Gotham together and in their civilian identities. Especially with the Bats already shorthanded due to Father’s absence and Robin’s benching. He had been too distracted by the upcoming school day to make the connection when his brothers had mentioned their plans at breakfast that morning. And Drake had been investigating League activity… Damian’s fingers flew across the keyboard, bypassing Drake’s security protocols with ease. If his brother had uncovered a League connection he had a right to know!

What he found among Drake’s recent search history was not what he expected. Some crackpot scientists from Illinois? That’s what had drawn his attention? Certainly, the older Robin had flagged some suspicious transactions and marked the Fentons as potential threats based on their inventions, but there were heroes closer to Amity Park that they could have foisted the investigation off on.

Damian drummed his fingers against his armrest. Something wasn’t adding up here. Pulling up everything he could find about the Fenton parents, he started looking through medical records, school records, articles… Suddenly, Damian’s heart slammed against his ribs. There, on the cover of a two year old magazine, was the face that had haunted him all week. With trembling fingers, he zoomed in on the image. It only took a few minutes to alter the hair and eye colour. It was unmistakably him. The boy who bore an uncanny resemblance to Damian himself, if slightly older and paler.

Swallowing hard, Damian scrolled through the magazine’s online archive to find the article mentioned on the title page. An almost extinct gorilla species. A chance discovery by then fourteen year old Daniel Fenton.

“Daniel,” Damian rolled the name around his mouth. A fairly common Western name. “Daniel. Danyal?” If he was Talia’s son, surely she would have used the Arabic version… no! He was jumping to conclusions!

Now having a name to go on, Damian dug deeper than Drake had bothered to. The birth certificate named a small town in Utah, but there were no records of a hospital admission. A home birth? There were no records of the Fentons having a residence in that state. No medical records of prenatal care either, though there were for the birth of the older sibling. Had the pregnancy gone unnoticed? Possible, if unlikely. There had been a vehicle registration for a motorhome during that time period though. Had the Fentons been living on the road when their son was born? Or had they acquired the child some other way? If he was an Al Ghul who would have spirited him away to the USA?

The Fentons had settled down in Amity Park about six months after Daniel’s birth, purchasing the residence they apparently used to this day. From there, his records were fairly standard and unremarkable, though there were a higher than average number of doctor’s visits for minor household accidents. Not enough to get flagged by CPS, but certainly worrying if potential mad science was involved. Daniel’s school records showed average grades, with higher scores in Maths and Science. At age fourteen however, his academic performance took a sharp dip, with an uneven performance on tests and numerous unexcused absences. His teachers noted frequent inattentiveness in class or Daniel outright falling asleep. Someone had submitted reports of bullying and suspicious bruises, but the case was dropped and never followed up on. His grades had evened out since then, but the unexcused absences persisted.

Damian knew enough about the trials and tribulations of teenage superheroics to recognize a pattern. And it certainly looked like Daniel fit the bill. If he had acquired meta abilities two years ago it probably took some time to get a handle on them and find a balance between his legal and illegal activities.

Damian steepled his fingers together. There was only so much his digital investigation could reveal. It was time for some fieldwork.

Part 7

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #batman #batfamily #damian wayne #robin #prophecy universe #the one where clockwork uses prophecies to mess things up (and set things right)#no beta we die like danny #damian snoops on tim's browser history #and gets more than he bargained for #damian thinks he would have made a good brother #and having a brother would have made his childhood less miserable

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sc4rleteyez · 2 years

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I WANNA WATCH YOU CLOSE (I NEED TO SEE FOR SURE), RINNEY

Finney Blake x Robin Arellano oneshot.

Description: Finney stares for too long.

Robin had come over for math tutoring. They were sitting in Finney’s bed, Robin with his back to the pillows and Finney closer to the edge. Gwen was in Susie’s house and his father was probably at work, so they were alone.

Finney had finished explaining the math problems the teacher had left for homework, and Robin looked at him, and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. His gaze was heavy, and he could feel it all the way into his bones. Finney smiled shyly. His chest ached, because he just wanted to scream at him that he loved him, grab his face and kiss him so bad, but what if Robin didn’t like him like that at all?

What if he had just made it all up in his head? a fantasy, a cruel, fake love story. What if Robin thought he was weird, or gross, or sick? To be fair, he himself thought that he probably was. How could a boy have such feelings for another boy? Why did he have to be like that? Why couldn’t he be normal?

And Finney looked away, and his smile dropped. Robin looked at him with such admiration in his eyes, Finney didn’t know if it was just that, or if there was more. More importantly, why. Why did he look at him like that?

What did Robin see in him that was worthy of that look? Finney clenched his fists and dug his fingernails into his palms, leaving small crescent moons.

He had tried his best to shove those feelings deep down, he had really tried. He had cried himself to sleep and then thought he was pathetic for doing so. He was never really that religious, but he prayed for the feelings to go away, and they never did.

He tried looking at the girls, with their soft hair and pink lips, but all he thought was how no matter how soft their hair was, it could never be compared to Robin’s silky, black, long hair. Or how their pink plump lips could never be compared to how soft and kissable Robin’s looked. Every thought started in something, and they always ended in Robin. Always Robin.

He had always thought that romance in movies was probably an exaggeration, but now he knew it was not. The boy who was supposed to be his best friend lived rent free in his head. Every time they were together Finney always got the urge to touch him. To interlace their fingers. To dig his hands in his hair. To connect their lips together.

And God, it was frustrating. Because he couldn’t do any of that. He couldn’t hold his hand or stroke his hair or fucking kiss him. He couldn’t.

And it didn’t help that Robin always got in fights, and every and each time Finney had to take care of him. He cleaned and bandaged his bruised knuckles and he always told him that he had to stop getting into so much trouble. That it wasn’t worth it.

But his best friend always said that it was. Every drop of blood shed was for a reason, though he didn’t always tell him that reason. Every time Finney finished setting the bandages on his scarred hands, he wanted to kiss them. Kiss every knuckle and kiss his palm and the back of his hand and his forehead and his mouth.

He didn’t want to let the other’s hand go, but he always had to. And it didn’t hurt so bad in the end, because Robin always looked at him with that same look and gave him a warm, honest smile and a thank you.

And it was only with him that Robin showed that side of himself. He always acted tough and brave, but not with Finn. Oh, and he called him Finn, not Finney, and he absolutely loved that. It felt special. Intimate. He was the only person who called him that.

Finney was pretty sure he probably had hearts in his eyes now every time he looked at Robin, and he wondered, how could he have not noticed yet? Finney knew Robin wasn’t stupid. He probably already knew and didn’t want to make things weird.

Or maybe he didn’t want to accept it. Or maybe he thought that was just how his friend looked at everyone. But how could that be? He knew it wasn’t that. Maybe there was the smallest possibility that Robin liked him too but didn’t know how to tell him? Or was he waiting for him to confess?

Finney always hated that he was such an overthinker, but he couldn’t help it when there were so many things that could go wrong. Especially when he was in love with his best friend.

“Finn?”

Finney snapped back to reality, and Robin started giggling in his face.

“What?” Finney looked away and asked, his cheeks turning red in embarrassment.

“Dude, you just stared at me for like two minutes!” Robin was now laughing out loud, covering his face with his hands.

“Shut up!” Finney pushed him backwards, Robin leaning now completely on the pillows, their faces mere inches away.

They could hear each other’s breathing as their gazes interlocked. Their eyes were like magnets, attracting the other, keeping the other in place.

Slowly and carefully, as if he was treating with an unknown creature, Finney’s hand reached for Robin’s cheek.

Robin blinked, his eyes never leaving Finney’s. Finney’s heartbeat was like a drum in his ears, his mind yelling kiss him like it was a mantra.

So he did exactly that. He closed the distance, joining their lips together. Robin’s hand flew to the back of his neck, immediately kissing back.

The kiss was soft, tender. Both of their lips were dry, but none of them felt it, too focused on the emotional part. Finney felt like his insides were exploding, he was sure his pupils had turned into hearts and a cloud was surrounding his head.

It was nothing like he had ever imagined. He used to think Robin would kiss like he fought, but it was nothing like that.

The first one to pull away was Robin, his lungs screaming for oxygen. He didn’t go far, his forehead together with Finney’s.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for that. I can’t believe you beat me to it.” He murmured and giggled, Finney gigging along.

“I can’t believe I just did that.” They separated, their arms traveling down to hold each other and laid together.

They were quiet, but they didn’t have to say anything. They let their actions speak as they gave small pecks to the other and rubbed figures on each other’s skin.

#rinney #finbin #the black phone #finney blake #robin arellano #no beta we die like robin #sorry #fanfic #i pulled the title out of my ass at the last minute #(a deftones song)#sorry if this is bad #pls tell me what you think

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sylvieserene · 8 months

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A Solemn Day [A Teen Titans One-Shot Fic]

Silence.

The first thing which greeted him every morning was silence itself.

He appreciated it's presence every day at the early hours he woke up yet…

Today it felt heavy, unbearable and lonely-

March 28th.

A day which changed the trajectory of his life forever.

Made him into what he was today.

Gentle yet pale light of dawn entered into the room through the window as Robin swung his leg over the side of his bed listlessly. He tapped the alarm button out of habit and made his way to the washroom.

He felt no energy or even slight optimism; there was a heavy sensation in his heart, a feeling he was too accustomed to over the years.

The very essence of air he breathed in felt heavy yet still; almost as if the universe acknowledged the weight of this day.

He knew today was going to be hard. He knew today would reopen the pain of some wounds which never truly disappeared and probably never will but…he didn't expect it to be so-....hard and lonely.

It was the first time he was dealing with the Death Anniversary of his parents outside Wayne House.

It had been a year since he left Gotham already.

He moved through the motions of his daily routine, facing the basin he splashed his face with the cold water which almost felt like baptism, cleansing his maelstrom of emotions even if for a few seconds.

Wiping off the water from his features, he took deliberate steps back to his room as if trying to maintain some semblance of balance over the day which had it's own plans for him.

Walking through the hallway, he faced the clean glass panel which let in the beauty of the natural light blossom throughout the space.

Subconsciously, Robin touched the glass as the sun slowly ascended into the heavens emitting a sweet yellow glow aloft the cotton candy like white clouds which were slowly being scattered all across the sky.

He could tell the day was going to be long, gloomy and cloudy as he noticed the clouds slowly consume up the sun fully out of sight.

As he entered his room and donned upon the uniform, his fingers ran over the Robin insignia decorated over his chest.

"Is there a reason for this costume to be so….colourful?"

Mary Grayson sat gracefully in front of Richard adjusting her posture to match his height. "Because when I see you up there Richard"

She smiles as she affectionately puts her hand on the 'R' insignia on his dress. "-you make me think of a little Robin!" Her eyes twinkle in motherly amusement.

A soft smile brushes his face followed by him squeezing his eyes tightly as he inhales sharply, turning himself away from the mirror.

He opened one of the drawers of his nightstand, pulling out a small old picture encased in a wooden frame. He rubs his thumbs across the photo which had a couple smiling brightly at the camera with their hands on the son's shoulder who smiled naively. Robin's eyes soften.

"Ugh a Robin? Like the bird? You know kids my age get beat up for nicknames like that"

John Grayson puts a hand over his shoulder as he teases, "How about we call you our flying squirrel? Better?"

Dick smirks "You know Dad? I'm not the only one who looks like a loser"

"A loser?!" His dad tries his best to look hurt only to give up the effort within seconds, succumbing to laughter "Ahhh I'll teach you!" He gives a bear hug to his wife and son who giggled.

Strolling down the hallway, as Robin made his way to the gym, he yet again looked through the transparent glass panel. The sky was grayish now and fully cloudy. It looked dull and almost lifeless, soul less mirroring his current being.

"Looks like the circus is in town!" A man with a burning cigarette at his fingertips said confidently, his face was shrouded in shadows due to poor lighting.

"What do you want, Zucco?" Mr. Haley narrowed his eyes.

"Oh I'd like to think I'm here to help you, Mr. Haley…" He took a few steps forward, his face now revealed. He had mostly grey hair, a crooked face with a smirk on his lips.

"...for a small fee." He said with a smug face as he gestured his hand to the side, revealing a guy with rugged appearance accompanied by a well built muscle physique and a shaved head; the man cracked his knuckles instantly.

"My brothers and I shall provide your circus with…protection. You don't pay us-" Two other men wearing suits walked up from behind Haley, making the old man stiffen up in alert.

"You deal with strong men. Protection money and no accidents happen" The man sneered maliciously.

"Well I'm not gonna pay you a single cent, Zucco. Get out" The old man scowled.

"You are making a big mistake, Haley" The man hissed in a low voice.

Dick looked at the scene, hiding behind the large red curtain of the circus, a feeling of apprehension and fear blossoming in his chest. These men…they didn't seem like good people.

"Oh? Looks like we might have a new guest here" The strange man named 'Zucco' pointed towards the little boy, slowly walking towards him.

Richard's eyes went wide as he froze in shock for a second. He quickly made haste and ran away to where his parents were.

Robin punches the punching bag with all his strength for the umpteenth time. He silently pants as he sees the damage he has done to the poor equipment which had bits of sand rolling down from the cracks on it's surface.

He stays silent as he slowly breathes in and out; regulating his breath to ease the maelstrom of emotions threatening to overcome him.

He stood there in complete silence for a few more minutes till he moved towards the bench where he took a sip out of his water bottle and wiped sweat off him with the towel he decided to keep around his neck, holding both of it's end by his hands.

He wasn't sure how much time has passed but the training session didn't really do him much favors. His gaze distant and downcast, a silent sigh escapes his lips.

It's truly been a whole year outside Gotham. Yet so many crazy adventures, finding great friends…building a team…bonding with them…them becoming his second family…the build of trust…encounter with Slade…being nearly killed by his hallucinogen- the list goes on and on.

Life breezed by yet just like every year he felt a pang of longing for his parents, their absence haunting his very soul.

Every step he took since the beginning of the day felt mechanical, a series of motions which he can do with his eyes closed. He couldn't escape the memories nor the dam of emotions which threatened to break at any moment. Everything seemed to remind him of them-

The automated door of the common room opened with a swish as Robin descended the three stepped stairs, greeted by the sight of a certain sorceress resting by the counter of the kitchen with what seemed like a cup of tea emitting slight steam along with a book and a familiar Cyborg who was very absorbed preparing something.

"Mornin' Rob" The man greeted with a smile.

"Morning" He greets back in a tone slightly subdued and energy-less as he trots into the kitchen area, taking out his favorite cup of choice and the coffee powder.

Raven raises her eyes off the book she was reading to look at the Titan's leader concernedly. She could feel negative emotions originate from his being…She could feel the waves of hurt and pain washing over his soul. Something she'd felt when she saw through his-

Her eyes widen as the gears in her head turn.

Could it be…?

Noticing the tone of his usually energetic friend, Cyborg asked softly, "Hey, everything all right man?"

"Yeah, everything's fine" Robin glanced back with a small smile as he poured his beverage in a cup.

Cyborg didn't look very convinced but chose not to say anything on the matter, he didn't fail to notice how slow or deliberate his steps are or how his shoulders are slightly slumped. He looks at Raven as if asking for an answer who matches his gaze with an concerned yet unreadable expression.

"Robin, if there's something-" The sorceress hovered over to him.

The Boy Wonder took a few steps back. "I'm fine, really- There's nothing to worry about"

Before the conversation could continue any further, the door opened up to reveal an enthusiastic Tamaranean flying towards her allies.

"A Glorious Morning to you all, my friends!" She greeted in her usual cheerful way.

"Hey there, Star" Cyborg smiled.

"Morning" Raven monotoned.

Meanwhile, Robin settled down on a kitchen bar stool on the other side of the counter as he took a sip out of his cup; two seats away from Raven which didn't escape her observation.

Starfire sat right beside Robin in one of the empty tools.

"Good Morning, Robin!" Starfire smiled.

"Morning to you too, Star" Robin replies back with a small smile as he removes his gaze from her, taking another sip of the beverage at hand, slowly getting lost in his thoughts.

Her eyebrows furrowed. She couldn't help but feel something was wrong with him. He's usual energetic aura seemed almost… muted. Normally he'd at least attempt for a small talk with her but today…he seemed quieter than ever.

"Is something troubling your heart today, friend? You seem-" Starfire asks gently.

He held a brief pause.

"No, It's nothing really- Just a little tired" He replied back with a soft smile.

"Are you sure…? You donot seem to be your usual …self this morning-" Starfire asks in concern.

The Boy Wonder's smile wavers ever so slightly as he shifts uncomfortably unable to fully maintain his facade.

"It's nothing to worry about, Star." Robin responded.

Starfire didn't look convinced at the least as she continued to look at him. Her gaze fell to her other two friends who shook their head; exchanging a knowing yet concerned glance with her.

The kitchen area fell in silence as the atmosphere became somber, a silent worry for their friend filling up the air.

Trying to lighten up the mood, Cyborg chimed in with a grin, "Yo Robin, bet your tiredness would go away by today's special!"

He pulls out three big plates with a huge stack of waffles on each plate which were lavishly covered in maple syrup with the toppings of whipped cream, blueberries and strawberries arranged in such a way to create a smiling face.

"Cyborg's Breakfast Explosion Special: WAFFLES!" Cyborg declared excitedly as he laid the three plates to each of his friends. Starfire's eyes lit up brightly almost instantly as Raven failed to hide the smile forming on her face. "You know you want it~" He gestures his hand over his mouth as if he were whispering while he wiggled his eyebrows.

Robin blinks at his friend's sudden enthusiasm. His lips curl up in a faint smile. "Waffles, huh?"

"Thanks Cy" He remarks in a soft voice with a slight touch of sadness yet managing a small, appreciative smile on his face.

"The waffles are delectable!" Starfire cheered.

"I have to admit these waffles aren't bad. I might even finish the plate….if I don't die off the sugar overdose first" Raven remarked dryly as she took one more bite off the food with the syrup dripping from her fork.

Cyborg snorted. "Whatever suits you, little lady"

He dragged his own plate of waffles out and dug in.

Looking at others and gaining enough courage, Robin picks up his fork and takes a small bite but as he eats he realizes he really isn't that hungry. He took another bite of the waffle but with each bite, it started to become increasingly difficult for him to eat.

Normally, he'd wholeheartedly enjoy his friend's delicious meal but today…the lump in his throat seems to grow and the food becomes almost tasteless as he chews it slowly.

And that's when the automated door slid open again revealing a certain green changeling.

"Well guess who decided to show up early!" Cyborg smirked.

"Hey! I'm not that late!" Beast Boy argues back.

"Never said you were" Cyborg grins as he takes another big bite.

"Touché" BB remarks as he sits right next to their leader who silently fiddled with his food using the fork.

"Yoo! You made waffles?!" Beast Boy exclaimed. "Aw man, where'd my part go?!"

"Maybe they turned into a waffle-shaped chameleon and escaped. Better keep an eye out for the foot prints" Raven deadpanned.

Cyborg bursts out in laughter as tears come to his eyes. "Oh man that was a good one" He remarks as he wipes away the said tear. Starfire could be heard giggling in the background.

A soft, small smile makes it's way into Robin's face as he watches the banter and laughter, appreciating the camaraderie of his friends. He wanted to laugh along with them yet he felt so…distant. The smile on his face comes to a halt as his lips curl into a straight line, his mind delving into deeper thoughts.

"As for your waffles, here you go 'B" Cyborg smiles as he slides the changeling's portion to him.

Beast Boy grins as he scoops his fork down. "Thanks big guy! You are the best you know that"

As he takes a big bite, Beast Boy notices Robin not eating, instead fiddling with the food using his fork.

"Dude you gotta try these out! They are like a party in your mouth!" BB commented, munching on his waffles as he took notice of his friend's quieter than usual demeanor as well.

Cracking a small smile, Robin stood up as he replied back "Maybe a bit later, Beast Boy."

"I have a few paperworks left in my office that I need to take care of. Enjoy them for me, though"

Before anyone else could say anything, Beast Boy asked out worriedly "B- But you haven't even eaten properly! You've barely touched those waffles, man!"

The Titan's leader, already by the exit; eyes downcast in the mist of sorrow as the door swished open, paused for a moment but then he replied softly "I'm really not that hungry…if you need me though, you know where to look"

As he leaves, the others share a look of concern amongst themselves, the worry for their leader ever increasing.

"He's really not himself today…" Cyborg sighed.

"I feel worried about his well being…" Starfire's eyes soften as she continued to look at the now empty seat. "Is there truly nothing we can do to help him from whatever might be troubling him?"

Beast Boy looked at his friend's faces as he puts his fork down, feeling upset. His eyes suddenly widen as he looks at Raven.

"The Bond! Rae, you and Robin, you've got that whole mind-link thing right? You should know what's wrong with him! Please tell us" He pleads earnestly.

Starfire's eyes widen at the same realization. "Yes friend Raven! Please tell us what is wrong with him…for you have the ability to shed some light in the situation! If I recall correctly, you did once mention that you vaguely saw through his memories when the bond was established-" She asks in concern, a slight tone of desperation leaking into her tone

"Raven, they're right. If something is hurting him…we should support him in whatever we can…He is a family to us." Cyborg added in, his tone carrying a sense of anxiety.

Raven looks at all of them as she thinks about the situation deeply herself. "Even if I do…Robin deserves his own privacy, I can't just invade his thoughts without his consent. That's a breach of privacy even if it's for a good reason. Robin values his privacy and I respect that"

The other exchange looks at each other.

"I understand where you are coming from Rae but…think about it. If he's hurting badly inside and won't open up what's wrong then isn't knowing what's wrong the first step to help him?" Cyborg silently asks.

Raven opens her mouth to say anything but Starfire speaks up as she clasps her own hands "Raven please…if there is something we can do to ease his pain, we must at least try"

"Raven, there's gotta be something you know that we don't…" Beast Boy says hesitantly as his ears droop down in sadness.

The sorceress pauses as she regards their words. Her mind torn between her concerns for Robin and his wish for respecting privacy.

From the shared experience they had which led to her unintentionally seeing glimpses of his whole life's memories, she did know the day carries significant emotional weight for him although the actual reason was a mystery, even to her. She did have her own theory; something she pieced together as she analyzed the fragments of memories she did end up remembering.

"I…" Raven hesitated as she looked down and clenched her fists.

"I get your point but… I won't do anything invasive of his privacy for it is not my place to share. If he wants to talk then he would." She says with determination.

The others lower their heads and gazes down in sadness as their eyes soften.

"But I do have a sense of what he might be going through today and my own theory" Raven added in hesitantly.

This made the others turn their heads and full attention towards her.

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

Finishing his paperwork much sooner than he, himself, anticipated; Robin sat at the edge of the rooftop of the Titans Tower, his legs dangling off at the side as he gazes at the city skyline. A cool breeze rustles his hair as he continues to watch the metropolis, lost in thought.

He doesn't notice the rain beginning to fall.

The soft raindrops pattered gently against the rooftop, creating a soothing rhythm. The city lights shimmered through the mist causing a soft, ethereal glow over everything.

The rain provided a comforting backdrop to Robin's thoughts as if the heavens themselves were offering him a respite.

He closed his eyes, letting the cool rain drops touch his face. In this quiet moment, he allowed himself to remember his parents…their laughter, their smiles, their time together, their unwavering support…the day of their-

Robin flinches as his downcasted eyes glistened. He still remembers the scene of his parent's death vividly. Shivers still run down his spine even today. It torments him to this day. The gasps of the audience, the horrified screams, the sickening thud which followed as the trapeze wire snapped. It was so vivid that it was as if he were reliving it all over again. The helplessness he felt…the overwhelming grief he felt….it was all there…etched into his mind.

He clenched his fists, his knuckles going white as he fought to suppress the pain that threatened to consume him.

The rooftop which provided a quiet sanctuary and solace to him, had become a battleground of emotions and memories…he couldn't escape it no matter how hard he tried…It was a part of him, something which made him into what he is today.

Tears welled up into his eyes, threatening to pour out of his mask. He couldn't break down now.

He took a deep, shuddering breath as he forced himself to look at the skyline once more, determined to push the memories back into the depths of his mind.

He can't let them see him like this…

He trusts them with his life, he loves them like his own family and yet… his heart becomes heavy in guilt and sorrow. He can't tell them. He is their leader…he can't let them see his vulnerability to his team-mates…it wasn't…ethical…

He is supposed to be the pillar of strength to his friends, the one who holds them together through their darkest hours; a leader had to be strong, unyielding, unbreakable, a one who would shield them from harm both emotional and physical……To reveal his vulnerability felt like a betrayal of that duty.

If they saw him falter…it would shake their confidence…sowing the seeds of doubt, disrupting the unity of the team.

What good of a leader would he be if he can't even do his job right?

More tears threatened to spill as he grips the edge. He couldn't afford to break down now. He needs to be the leader they needed him to be even if it means burying his own pain deep inside.

He took in another steadying breath, determined to regain his composure with a resolve as he pushed back his memories back to the recesses of his mind. He was the leader, he cannot afford to be weak.

Slowly, he stood up from the perch of the roof's edge. As he was about to head back inside, he heard the faint sound of the rooftop's door creaking open. He turned to see his fellow Titans standing at it's opening, their faces etched with concern and worry.

Unbeknownst to him, his teammates had grown increasingly concerned and worried when they couldn't find him anywhere in the tower. His subdued demeanor from earlier, Raven's revelation and later her feeling immensely intense emotions originating from him didn't help at all.

Without a word, they rushed towards him, their footsteps splashing through the rain-soaked roof-top.

Before he could even react, they enveloped into a group hug. Raven reaching him first, her empathetic gaze meeting his troubled one. She wrapped her arms around him in a tight yet comforting hug. Cyborg, Starfire and Beast Boy joining in the endeavor as they formed a protective circle around him.

The embrace was warm and comfortable. There were no words, just the soothing embrace of his friends and the pattering of rain around them. Rain poured upon them, drenching them to the bone but no one seemed to care.

Robin felt his defenses crumble in the face of their unwavering support and love.

In that moment, he let himself be vulnerable as he buried his face in Raven's shoulder, tears mixing with the raindrops as he finally allowed himself to grieve.

In that moment, still embraced by his friends, he felt a mixture of relief and gratitude wash over him. He had tried to hide his pain but his team had seen through that facade.

In that moment, he realised he didn't have to be an unyielding pillar of strength all the time, his friends were there for him, ready to provide him the unyielding support and love he needed.

The rain washed away his pain, cleansing his wounded soul.

As it continued to fall, the titans held their friend close, offering him comfort and understanding that he was never alone, he always had them.

It was a silent acknowledgement that they were a team bound not only by their powers and missions but also by the deep roots of friendship, love and compassion that united them. In their unity, they found strength and in Robin's vulnerability, they found a deeper connection that would carry them through even at the darkest of days.

[If you enjoyed this fic, please make sure to drop a like or a comment below! Reviews are always appreciated ♡]

#teen titans fanfiction #teen titans #dick grayson #robin #Teen Titans are protective of their leader #Robin isnt good at feelings #angst #hurt/comfort #emotional hurt/comfort #starfire #raven #cyborg #beast boy #Teen Titans consider themselves as a family #robstar #okay its just hinted at but hey that still counts #platonic robrae #no beta we die like men

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jasontoddswhitestreak · 1 year

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#i wrote this for class #isn’t that embarrassing #i hope my professor doesn’t shun me #he normally likes my work but…#we’re putting that to the test now aren’t we #jason todd #robin #red hood #batman #batfam #dc comics #lazarus pit #poetry #poetsandwriters #no beta too we die like jason did lmao

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faggot-bastard · 2 years

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Wake Up

2, 164 Words

Chapter 7/?

Chapter 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

Steve was standing in a dark room. He wasn't able to see more than two feet in fornt of him but he knew that the room was huge, it went on forever. He tried walking forward to see if he could find a wall or something but there was nothing.

Suddenly there was a bright flash of light and Steve was surrounded by people. Some of them he knew and some that seemed eerily familair but he didn't know their names. They all were surrounding him and moving in closer.

"Why Steve? Why did you hurt us?" They said unanimously. Steve saw Robin in the crowd. She was crying. Her shirt was covered in dirt an ripped. She seemed to be bleeding from the side of her head.

Steve tried to push the crowd away so that he could get to her but they pushed back. He was pushed on the ground and he saw Nancy staning over him, pointing a gun at his face.

"Bullshit." She said harshly and then squeezed the trigger.

The bullet hit him in the head but he was still alive. He started running and this time the crowd let him pass. He was running as fast as he could but something was slowing him down. It was like he was trying to run in mud. He looked behind him and screamed. All the people that were surronding him had turne into demogorgons.

"Steve." He heard someone call. He saw Eddie behind him bleeding. "Steve, help."

Steve turned around to face the monsters with his nail bat in his hands. He started swinging blindly.

He heard more cries behind him, more than just Eddie. He looked and saw everyone sitting on the ground behind him. Nancy, Robin, Eddie, the kids, even Jonathan was there. They were all crying and holding onto each other.

They looked up at him "Please Steve." they all said.

Steve did his best to hold off the monsters but he wasn't good enough. A monster got behind Steve and ate Mike. Everyone screamed. Steve did his best to fight them off but they kept coming.

Steve couldn't hold them off anymore, one ate one of his arms and he sreamed and collapsed. Another monster quickly bit his leg off. Steve cried and tried crawling to the rest of the group but he couldnt, something was holding him back.

He was forced to watch as everyone was eaten by monsters.

First, El. She held her hand out like she was going to use her powers but nothing happened. She screamed and tried again but still, nothing.

Then Lucas. The demogorgon got him quickly, he tried to fight but was no match for the monster.

Next Max, she cried but didn't try to put up a fight.

Then Will, He was in Jonathan's arms when he quickly ripped him out. The force ripped his leg off and he screamed loudly from the pain.

Erica, she was sobbing when the monster came for her. She was picked up by it and she started kicking and hitting it. It quickly bit off her head and she went quiet.

Finally Dustin. "Eddie, I don't want to die." He said while looking in the monster's eyes.

"I'm trying to help you but I cant move." Eddie called out. He was held down by ropes or something. Steve couldn't tell.

The monster finally picked up Dustin. It threw him in the air and caught him again. The monster looked Steve in the eye and bit down on Dustin splitting him in half.

It was like the monsters were just toying with their food. Killing them off one by one to hurt Steve more

Now only the adults were left.

The monsters ate them slowly, one by one.

First Jonathan.

Then Nancy.

Next Eddie.

And Finally Robin.

Steve tried to look away but there was something making it so that he couldn't

The monsters all swarmed him and one came up to him. It's face shifted into his mother's.

"Pathetic." She spat on Steve and her face shifted again into his father's. "Stupid fucking fairy."

Robin's face now "You have hurt everyone around you."

Dustin, "How could you just sit there and watch me die."

Eddie, "You think I actually like hanging out with you, I only do it out of pity."

Jonathan, "Oh look how the mighty fall."

Nancy, "You are nothing now."

All the voices merged "You are nothing Steve. You mean nothing to us. Nobody would even notice If. You. Died."

They started chanting his name. "Steve, Steve, Steve." It was nothing like how the kids would chant his name after he gave them homework answers. It was nothing like how people had chanted his name when he helped them win a match. It was nothing like he had ever heard before.

It was like nothing he had ever heard before and it was getting louder.

He saw his own face looming above him, but it wasn't him, wasn't Steve.

Steve two laughed. "Even I'm dissapointed in you." Steve 2 kicked him in the ribs and sauntered off.

The crowd of monsters swarmed around him and began eating.

Steve gasped, he was awake. That was all just a nightmare.

"Oh thank god you're awake." Eddie sighed and then hugged him.

Steve blushed against his will. "What is it?"

"You were having a nightmare."

"Well yeah, I obviously know that. I meant, Why were you freaked out?"

"Because you were having a nighmare. I was worried about you."

"You dont need to worry about me. It wasn't that bad of a nightmare anyways." Lie. That was one of the worse nightmares. It left Steve thouroughly freaked out.

"I don't know man, It seemed pretty bad."

Steve didn't know how to respond. Finally he pulled some words out of his brain. "Yeah, I guess it was a pretty bad nightmare."

"Do you need anything?"

"Uh can you pass me a glass of water."

Eddie didn't say anything but he poured the water from the pitcher into one of the plastic cups on a stand in between both of their beds. He passed the water to Steve who quickly drank all of it.

"Do you want to go back to bed?"

Steve yawned "I mean I probably got all the nighmares out for the night and I am tired so yeah I should probably go to bed."

Steve laid down in the bed with Eddie still standing next to him. Eddie leaned over Steve and kissed him lightly on the forehead. "Goodnight Steve. Sleep well." Eddie rushed back to his bed, limping slightly.

Steve blushed and rolled over facing away from Eddie and started thinking, which was never good.

His mind started running.

Did Eddie just kiss me.

Holy Shit.

Eddie just kissed me.

And I liked it?

I liked it.

What does this mean.

Maybe I only liked it because it seems like something a mom would do.

Does this make me gay?

No that's too complicated to unpack now. Deal with that later.

Okay was that kiss platonic or romantic? The placement suggests that its platonic but we've never been that close of friends before.

What if I'm way overthinking this.

It was probably just a kind jesture between friends. A sort of get well soon card.

Except its not a card its a kiss.

On the forehead. Least romantic spot to kiss someone.

Well probably not the least romantic. There are worse spots.

Let's not think of all the less romantic spots to kiss someone. That is a bad rabbit hole to go down.

Knees, for one. Butts. Ankles. Elbow. Toes probably. Right under your chin.

Okay. Stop.

Does it make me gay to have liked Eddie kissing me and to contemplate whether it is romantic or not.

I mean.

Signs Point To Yes

But I like girls. I loved Nancy.

Maybe I'm,

Whats the word Robin used,

Bisexual.

Steve ran that word through his mind. Bisexual. Bisexual. Bi. He liked the way it sounded but did it really apply to him. He's had all kinds of 'crushes' on boys, but it never lasted.

OH SHIT.

Those 'crushes' were actual crushes. Steve liked boys too.

But he didn't feel the same about boys as he did about girls. It was somehow different with girls.

He needed to ask Robin about this later. Right now he was way too tired though.

Stupid concussion making him tired.

Steve fell into a luckily dreamless sleep.

~~~~~timeskip to morning brought to you by Steve's bisexual awakening~~~~~

Steve woke to a plate of pancakes in the morning.

"Hey idiots. I brought some food so you dont have to eat shit hospital food." A familiar voice called out.

"We brought you food."

Steve sat up and saw a crowd of people.

Almost everyone was there. Nancy, Robin, Jonathan, Will, Mike, Dustin, and even Arygle was there. He probably just came along because he was bored and stoned though.

Steve sat up in his bed wondering what they were all doing here.

Eddie beat him to the quiestion. "Not that I dont appreciate the food and the company, What are you all doing here?"

Will spoke. "We were bored and wanted to visit you guys."

"We also gave a ride to Lucas, Max, and El but they're up in Erica's room." Nancy said.

The group split up. Robin took half of the pancakes to Steve and Nancy took the other half to Eddie. Jonathan followed Nancy to Eddie's bed. Argyle swayed over toward Steve. Will and Mike went over to Eddie and Dustin went to Steve.

Over on Eddies side the kids and him were exitedly chattering about Dnd. Nancy and Jonathan were sitting off to the side and talking quietly.

Robin was chattering with Argyle. They were switching subjects left and right but they seemed to know what was happening so Steve didn't quiestion it. Dustin was sitting quietly not saying anything.

"You good, bud?" Steve asked

Dustin put on a smile. "Yeah, fine."

"You should go sit with your friends and talke about your stupid nerd game."

"But I don't want to leave you."

"Go, have fun."

Dustin opened him mouth to say something but he closed it and sat next to Will.

When Dustin looked back at Steve, Steve gave him a quick thumbs up and a smile. Dustin smiled and joined in the conversation.

Steve shoved a pancake in his mouth and almost moaned at how good it was. Maybe it was because he had only had hospital food for a while or maybe it was because the pancakes were just good.

He ate all the pancakes in record speed. One his plate was empty he looked at it sadly, wishing that more would magically appear. Sure, he was stuffed, but it was so good he wanted more.

Robin was looking at him when Steve looked up from his plate. He looked at her and they started giggling.

"What?"

"You look stupid." they said in between laughs.

"I do not."

"Oh but you do."

"Shut up."

"My dudes." Argyle jutted in. "Why are you all beaten up."

"Demobats,"

"What are those?"

Robin started speaking. "They are these evil hell bats and they always seem to have a raving for human flesh."

"That's crazy. Where do they come from."

"Well we call it The Upside Down. Its like this town but if it just was evil and gross and really really dark. Oh and filled with monsters."

"Huh," Argyle said and stopped speaking.

"Actually Eddie, I was wondering something." Robin says loudly

"Yeah." Eddie says from across the room

"What was with you killing all those bats? How did you do it?"

"Uh, essentially I'm like Eleven but I'm number ten."

"Wait seriously." Dustin says. "You have superpowers."

"Well I wouldn't exactly call them superpowers but yeah."

"Wait," Robin said acusingly. "Why aren't you suprised about this." she pointed at Steve while they were speaking.

"Eddie told me earlier."

"Why does Steve get to know before us?" Mike asked Eddie.

"Because he asked about it earlier."

Mike huffed "Still not fair.

Jonathan tapped on Nancy's shoulder and pointed at his watch.

"Shit, we have to go." Nancy said, her and Jonathan standing up. Will stood up too and went next to them. "You can stay if you want Argyle but we're going."

"I'll come with, I need a ride back to your place anyways." Argyle said standing up.

They all walked out, waving goodbye.

Eddie went back to talking with the kids and Steve looked at Robin. "There's something I need to talk about with you later. Nothing bad I just need your help."

"I swear to god if you killed someone I will fucking kill you."

"I didn't kill anyone I just need your advice."

"Okay."

Suddenly Eddie spoke up. "You know what we should do." He had a shit eating grin on his face. "We should go up to Erica's room and bother her."

Everyone started smiling. "Let's do it." Dustin said.

#tw gore #tw nightmare #oh god the first 800 words are just nightmare #Steve begins his bisexual awakening #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #steddie #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #will byers #jonathan byers #mike wheeler #dustin henderson #argyle #i dont know his last name #no beta we die like chrissy

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as-is-above-so-below · 11 months

Text

In the Middle of the Night (Jason Todd x OC)

Masterlist

Chapter 9, Chapter 11

story summary: Melanie Withers and Jason Todd do everything together - including but not limited to stealing tires off Gotham's famous vigilante. The newest additions to the Wayne family begin their journey, learning how to navigate their new family, life as vigilantes, adolescence, grief, and rebirth.

chapter summary: Am I aware of the video game physics I used in the last chapter? Yes. Should Mel and Jason be more injured than they are, if not dead? Yes. Sue me. A very much dead Jason, canonically, crawled out of his own grave. I think we can all live with some canon-typical comic book medical inaccuracies LMAO

Apologies if this chapter seems short! Next chapter will have more, I promise <3

Jason returned to the cave only a short time after Melly. Bruce released him after the GCPD had gathered all the henchmen and secured Fries in a containment cell. It wasn’t every day your partner in crime (fighting) came within twenty feet of becoming a bird-shaped pancake on the sidewalk.

It was closing in on one o’clock as he zipped down the ramp on the Bat-Bike, tires screeching on the smooth concrete as he skidded to a stop. He barely took the time to prop the bike on its kickstand (Bruce would kill him if he dropped it at home again) and didn’t bother to strip down before taking off toward the manor, having found an empty med bay.

“Alfred?!” he called, racing up the long flight of stairs to Bruce’s study. Not the most efficient way to get into the house, but he was rushing. Considering the cave was underground, and Bruce’s study was on the third floor, anybody would be winded. Up to and including a growing, athletic fourteen-year-old who scales buildings and jumps across rooftops at night.

“We’re in the hall.”

When Jason blew through the open doors for the cave and study, he was greeted by Melanie, still in her Redwing suit, sitting on the single step in the hallway leading to their rooms. An exacerbated butler stood above her, a dark bath towel in hand.

“Hi, Jace,” she hummed, her head tiredly leaning against the wall.

“Master Jason, you know how I feel about suits outside the cave.”

Jason shot him an apologetic grin. “Sorry, Alfie. I shook off the snow downstairs, though, so I shouldn’t be tracking any,” he amended, lifting his green boot to display the dry sole. When Alfred seemed to approve, Jason planted his feet again. “Why are we on the floor?”

The older man sighed, stepped down, and used the towel to wipe a blood streak from Jason’s damp forehead. “Miss Melanie insisted on waiting for you to return before getting cleaned up and resting.”

“Is she cleared to sleep?”

“I’m right here, you know.”

“You’re sitting on the floor, in the hallway, still in uniform. I’m not trusting your judgment,” Jason pointed out, resting his hand on her head. His thumb mindlessly stroked her hair as he turned back to Alfred, allowing him to do a preliminary inspection of his face. “No injuries? I did my best, but I hit ‘er pretty hard. She was falling fast; I didn’t have time to think.”

“You did excellent work, young sir. You may have broken a rib and cracked one or two others, but I had assumed Master Bruce had caught her with her minimal injuries.”

“It was less of a ‘catch’ and more of a…knocking her out of trajectory.”

“I’m achy and tired, but I’ll live,” Melanie added, holding out her good arm for help standing. “The winter armor…helped.”

That was true; they wore heavier-duty armor without boiling in their suits in the winter. The protective layers were thicker and certainly did more for them than the high-temperature alternatives. Still, Jason didn’t miss how his partner struggled to pull herself to her feet, obviously taking care not to bend at the waist. If not for the additional padding on their arms, he could almost guarantee they would have, at minimum, broken an arm or wrist between them.

“Are you sure she’s alright?” he asked, raising Melanie’s arm across his shoulders again and supporting her weight. Alfred hadn’t said anything about any sprains or issues with her legs, but she was still limping; he could at least give her sore muscles a break.

Alfred smiled gently, patted him on the shoulder, and said, “Bruising is normal for a collision at that rate of speed. I’m sure this is preferable to the alternative, had you not gotten there in time. You did well, son.”

Jason’s face flushed at the praise; he turned to escape to his bedroom before it could darken and be noticed by either Melanie or Alfred. “Thanks, Alfred,” he muttered, aiding Melanie in getting up the single step and down the carpeted hall with the man following behind for support. Alfred stepped in front of them to open the doors to Jason’s room and let them through.

Bookcases lined one wall, full of the teen’s favorites he had pulled from the library since moving into the manor and neglected to put back. One, however, had plenty of space; this was for books he and Bruce had yet to collect. So far, several first editions, collector's items, and a few that Bruce had specially bound for him lined one shelf – pretty much anything interesting they found in their travels and internet hunts. Alfred spotted Jason’s first edition of Pride and Prejudice in its usual home on his nightstand.

“I’ll watch her overnight,” he offered and sat Melanie on the edge of his bed. “We’ll be here if Bruce needs anything.”

“Very well.” Alfred flicked the strip lights adhered to the wall with the remote hanging by the light switch. The room took a warm, soft glow, just how he liked it. Much better than the brightness of an overhead light.

Typical teenage boys with their LED lights.

“Goodnight, you two. Get some rest.”

“Night, Alfie,” Melanie called after him, waving as he went. She felt guilty for resisting his attempts to get her to bed sooner, but she figured Bruce would let Jay out early, given how much excitement they had encountered.

Jason passed her the solvent for the mask adhesive while he worked on dismantling her costume. She watched through white lenses as he carefully dragged her boots off, holding his bare hands on her foot to warm her toes before moving on to the next. Her footwear didn’t have as many buckles as his, so this didn’t take long.

“How’s your shoulder?” Jason asked, unraveling the thick tape around her feet and ankles. She tended to roll her ankles, and the gauze offered additional support.

Melanie simply nodded, finally peeling back the black mask. She dropped it on the bed beside her, pressed the heels of her palms into her tired eyes, and chose to focus solely on the rolling pressure being applied to her arches. They were no strangers to massages, even before their time as Waynes. Bruce and Alfred had taught them many techniques for relaxing muscles and treating soft tissue injuries, but they’d long since learned how to give a good foot massage from Jason’s mom. Each of the many jobs Catherine held (when she could keep one) had her on her feet all day; rubbing her feet was the only way she would let them help.

Tender hands reached behind to unbuckle her armor, then guided her arms above Melanie's head (not without a few whimpers and curses), and pulled the protective piece and under-layer off. As soon as that was done, she fell back, staring at the ceiling. At Jason’s request, she carefully lifted her hips to allow him to tug the bottom half of her set down, leaving her in just her compression bra and shorts.

Her leg jerked involuntarily as the massage moved up her calf, squeezing a particularly painful spot. “Ow,” she whined, face scrunched up.

“Alright, you need to shower.”

She groaned in response, wanting nothing more than to stay flopped back onto the mattress until Jason lifted her again. He waited until she found her balance before walking them back into the bathroom. In addition to the benefits a hot shower would offer Melanie’s bruises, frost still nipped at Jason’s fingers and chilled his bones. He’d been looking forward to soaking in a bath from the moment they stepped out on patrol. But a shower would do in a pinch.

Jason left her to hold herself up against the sink to get the shower going and leaned past the shower curtain, turning the knobs until he reached the desired temperature – scalding.

“Did you get my–”

“Yes.”

“You don’t even know what I was–”

“Melly, I got your cape and belt. Stop talking and get in the shower.”

With a pout and a series of grumbles, Melanie attempted to twist her body to get her into the shower without directly lifting her legs over her tub. But, with both limbs aching from her rough landing and her balance currently shot, she struggled for a bit before sighing and nudging Jason with her foot. He turned from the fogging mirror, where he was edging his mask off. Upon seeing that she was looking to get his attention, he gave up on removing it carefully, braced himself, and tore it off with a sharp hiss. “Sonuva bitch.”

“If you keep doing that, your acne’s just gonna get worse,” she pointed out, letting her arms fall to her side. “Can you help?”

Gentle as ever, Jason took her wrists and gently braced her palms against his shoulders. He hunched down, arms wrapped around the bottom of her ass. “I’m gonna lift on three, okay?” Melanie nodded, and he tightened his hold. “Alright, one - two - three…” He picked her up with a grunt, enough for Melanie to bend her knees and give him room to lower her back down past the tall edge of the clawfoot tub.

“Wait-“ He stopped, held in place by her soft grip. “Don’t go.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. I’m sitting right here.”

“No, can you…can you come in?”

“Uh…yeah. Are— are you sure?”

“Nothing we haven’t seen before… We can close our eyes if that’ll make you feel better?”

Jason wasn’t blind; of course, he had noticed Melanie coming into her own the further they progressed through puberty and healthy lifestyles. Over the last year or so, he had spared fleeting glances during training or when she changed in front of him, but lately…

Lately, he was losing control of his own body as well.

Couldn’t help the way his skin caught fire at the sight of the crease where her ass met her thigh in a leotard or how his heart fluttered when she threw her leg over his hips or waist in the middle of the night. Then there was the other thing he was deathly afraid of Melanie noticing if she hadn’t already. Popping fucking boners left and right, over anything and everything she did (whether in real life or his imagination) like a… Well, like a hormonal teenager. Including, but not limited to, being asked to get in the shower with her–

Oh no. “Melly, I–”

“I don’t wanna be alone.”

Goddammit. He deflated – mentally and below the belt (thank Christ) – and folded for the pleading tone in her voice. “Okay,” he agreed, unclipping his utility belt and setting it on the sink. “I’ll close my eyes, but…you face the water.” When she obeyed and disappeared behind the curtain to step into the steady stream of hot water, Jason quickly worked his costume off, dropping his pants and boots with a thunk and wrestling the top over the black mop on his head. The teen was left in just his black briefs as he stepped into the space, sliding the opaque plastic curtain shut behind him.

Okay, okay, okay, be cool. Do not make it weird. She’s just scared, needs some help, is all. Nothing more.

Melanie didn’t move as Jason encroached on her space and blindly reached past her for his shampoo. Her arms hung loosely by her sides, her eyes blank and staring at the wall before her as the hot water pelted her bare chest. She felt like she was suffocating in her skin and tore the fucking thing off the second it got wet, ignoring the screaming ache in her muscles.

She was doing everything in her power to keep her emotions under control and ground herself to Jason lathering the gel throughout her hair and the bright eucalyptus fragrance. Even with his comforting presence, Melanie’s heart raced in her chest, and the endless reel of bright windows zipping by replayed in her vision, nails dug into her shaking palms. Salty tears mixed with the spray of the shower head. After a bit, she couldn’t help the choked sob that escaped her.

Behind her, Jason’s eyes snapped open, and his fingers stopped their ministrations in rinsing the suds out of his best friend’s hair; he felt like his heart had snapped clean in two. He definitely didn’t notice the bare skin of her back staring back at him. Or her bra in a sopping pile at her feet.

The shock and adrenaline from narrowly escaping Death’s clutches must have worn off. Danger was a permanent fixture in their lives, a well-known job requirement for a vigilante, sidekick or not. They’d been shot at, various blunt objects either thrown or swung at them, and tossed around plenty. Tonight, however, was the closest either of them had come to death. Much too close for comfort.

“Oh, Melanie…” he whispered, spinning her trembling body toward his by her shoulders. Melanie practically dove into him, closing the space between them and throwing her arms around his neck, head tucked under his chin. Their height difference was constant competition, each pushing past, only for the other to catch up. Right then, Jason had a hair or two on her. If he didn’t notice her bra at the bottom of the tub earlier, he absolutely didn’t feel her plush chest pressed against his.

“J-Jason, I…I–”

“Let it out…I’ve got you.”

Every loud, wet sob and hiccup shredded his heart further; all he could do was tighten his hold and rub circles between Melanie’s shoulder blades. Jason let his nose trail down, planting soft kisses along her neck until he buried his face in the juncture of her jugular and shoulder. “I know,” he mumbled against her wet skin, swaying gently from side to side. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He didn’t know what else to say; what could he that could make this better? It’s not like Jason could even promise it wouldn’t happen again.

He wasn’t sure how long they stood in the shower. Long enough for the water to lose its bite, slowly bleeding from hot into tepid, bordering on cold territory. Jason supported most of Melly’s weight under the water as she started to tire, her bawling turning into whimpers and sniffles against his skin. It wouldn’t do for them to stay there any longer and be exposed to cold temperatures again.

Melanie’s fingertips dug further into his shoulders as he pivoted them just enough to lean forward and cut the water with one hand. Get a fucking towel, you degenerate. Eyes up, eyes up, eyes up…

Jason draped a thick black towel over her shoulders and gathered it together in front until she took the edges in her hands underneath. He let her stand there while he stepped out and ruffled his hair with another towel, completely missing the shift in Melanie’s gaze. Her blue eyes went to the boy, watching the water drip down his back into a puddle on the floor, his shoulders, and his biceps as he tossed the towel about.

“That’s why your hair’s so frizzy, y’know,” she pointed out, rocking back and forth on her feet. “Your curls would be prettier if you took care of them.”

He switched to drying his torso, looking back over his shoulder when he said, “Thank you for your concern.” The towel hung in front of him, strategically covering the unrelenting hard-on he’d managed to keep unnoticed by some fucking miracle. “You okay?”

“Tired. Help?”

Melanie took his extended hand to balance herself as she climbed out. He was right about the shower, it had helped, but she was still slightly off. A good cry did her some good, too.

Once they had both stripped out of their sopping undergarments and jumped into dry pajamas, Melly collapsed on Jason’s bedding with a sigh, arms bent under the pillows. She didn’t usually go to bed with loose, wet hair (she would braid it, at least); going one night without listening to her haircare advice couldn’t hurt. The bed dipped beside her, and a hand patted her butt.

“Alfie’ll probably wake you up in two hours to check in,” he whispered, easing down onto his back; no spooning with their injuries. “Goodnight, Melly.”

“Love you, Jace.”

“Love you more.”

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