#people willingly talk to robin
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gaywineauntsstuff · 2 months ago
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Broke: everyone fights over whose Batman’s favorite
Woke: everyone fights over whose Dicks favorite bc Dick isn’t an emotionally stunted loser (I shit talk Bruce so much but I love him, he’s just also a loser) and trying to get in the bats favor is like trying to catch sand in a sieve
————
Damian: obviously I’m Graysons favorite I was his Robin
Tim: dude I was the first Robin he trained and we still talk every day I am 100% the favorite
Steph: fuck you! You disappeared off the the face of the earth when he was Batman I was actually here I’m 100% the favorite everyone knows Wing loves me.
Jason: Dick willingly went to Gotham to spend time with me even when he was mad at Bruce. Has Dick ever been in Gotham when he was mad at Bruce for you guys? No? Didn’t think so?
Damian: ….
Steph:…
Tim: that’s because you sucked so much he thought you’d get blown up trying to have to bludhaven.
Jason: oi! Low blow, you can’t use a man’s death against him
Damian: shut up we���ve all died before
Steph: you literally said you were allowed to break Tim’s laptop bc you died b4
Jason: yeah it’s MY DEATH I can use it how I want
Tim: we really gonna call your 14yr old 4’7 self a man?
Cass: he helped me train when B rejected me I’m the favorite
Tim: you can’t be Dicks favorite you’re already Bab’s favorite those are the only 2 likable older members of the family. (They’ve decided Alfred doesn’t count since he’s legally not allowed to have favorites)
Dick: Duke is my favorite
Damian: what?
Tim: how?
Jason: this shit is rigged
Steph: What?? You barely spend time with him?
Duke who has been eating popcorn quietly this whole time:???
Dick: he doesnt steal my suit and murder people
Jason: …
Dick: or tell his friends I threatened to send him to Arkham when I told him to get therapy
Tim:…
Dick: or break into my apartment at 3am because he can’t communicate with his father
Damian:…
Dick: or make me believe he flatlined on the operating table
Steph: …
Dick: or tell me he can’t meet up for a bust because he’s too busy fighting Wonder Woman a hero we work with over text with no context and then go AWOL for 5 days
Cass:…
Dick: or overload his plate with 50 million things I will have to come in and help with
Everyone:
Steph: he started a cult tho??
Dick: was it before or after he was fostered bc if it was before it’s. Not. My. Problem.
Duke: I’m the favorite???
Dick: also I feel like if I died you’re the most likely to take over my duties and not go on a quest for vengeance or try to clone me or put me in the Lazarus pit.
Jason: ID NEVER PUT you in the Lazarus pit…. No comment on the rest tho.
Tim: ditto
Damian: meh you are superior to Todd and he’s relatively functional post the pit I don’t see the issue here.
Steph raising hand: I wouldn’t-
Dick: or help TIM do it
Steph lowering hand:
Dick: plus you have a parent so I don’t have to do 80% of the child rearing while giving Bruce credit
Duke still a little star stuck bc that’s nightwing: IM THE FAVORITE.
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deadsetobsessions · 1 year ago
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“Tim. Timmy. Ancients, kid, what are you doing?!”
Danny Phantom smacked away the instinctual terror of seeing an eight year old dangling out of a third story window.
“I gotta go take pictures of Batman and Robin! They’re out tonight!”
Danny thought that his barely healed vivisection wound might bust open from the sheer stress.
“Setting aside how you even know the patrol schedule of honest to god vigilantes, why’d you choose the window? The house is literally empty, just walk out the front door, for Ancient’s sake.”
Tim paused, a motion Danny was overwhelmingly thankful for, and blinked sheepishly.
“Um… for the aesthetic?”
Danny allowed the silence to settle between them before dropping his head into his waiting hands. Tim panicked.
“You- you can’t stop me!”
And yeah, Danny really can’t. In the months he’s been mooching off of the Drakes (not that they’ll notice), Danny’s learned that Tim Drake is nothing but relentless in the pursuit of whatever he sets his mind on. Whether thet might be putting hot chocolate in his cereal (which Danny doesn’t actually mind) or, apparently, stalking a pair of vigilantes.
He wanted to hack into the library cameras? Danny had to hover just to make sure the kid didn’t get caught after arguing for an hour about it.
He walked out of that argument with a loss, yes, but he also let Tim know that Danny cared about him. Danny also walked out of that argument with a new hatred for Janet and Jack Drake and his mind (just as diabolical as Tim’s) whirring with plans to haunt them.
Tim is never ever introducing his new little brother to Tucker. Ever.
“Okay. I don’t want to see you take unnecessary risks, but I’m also aware that I can’t really stop you. So. I’ll go with you.”
Maybe this is like… Tim’s obsession? When he put it that way, Danny lost the fight to prevent this tiny kid from what clearly is the only joy in his poor life.
“But…!” Tim’s eyes darted to Danny’s chest, the vivisection scars still fresh in his mind.
“They’re healed.” Danny pulled his dumbass little brother off the window sill, core settling as Tim follows willingly. “I’ll make us invisible and fly with you behind Batman and Robin so you can get even better shots. You can’t make any noise, though. That camera got a shutter sound, right?”
“Yeah!” Tim’s face brightened and Danny melted. He shoved a bottle of the (incredibly stinky but helpful in a pinch) ecto contaminated tap water into a backpack, along with some snacks and a blanket for when Tim gets cold. Danny’ll be fine, he’s got a Space Core. The cold his kind of his thing.
“Cool. We’ll stay out of earshot. If things starts to get too dicey, we’re heading home, okay?”
“Okay!” The look Tim shot him is full of trust and adoration and it makes Danny’s human heart squeeze painfully. “C’mon! I don’t want to be late!”
“We need to talk about your stalking tendencies later,” Danny said fondly.
“I’m not stalking them! I’m observing them!”
“Uh-huh,” Danny drawled, picking Tim up and making them intangible and invisible. “They’re not a bird observatory and also, even the birds in the observatory knows they’re being watched. Batman and Robin clearly doesn’t.”
Danny felt more than saw Tim’s pout.
He laughs as they fly just below the Gotham-brand of toxic smog. He waves to the City’s Spirit as Tim cranes his head around to catch sight of Batman and Robin.
“There!”
Danny obliged. With Danny’s flight, Tim got much better- much closer- photos than he would have originally.
Danny hung back as the pair of vigilantes swooped down to take care of a mugging.
“Wanna mess with them?” He grinned down at his little brother, canines glinting.
Tim looked up at him, admiration and mischievousness in his gaze. “Yes.”
Gotham parted her clouds in response to their glee.
——
Dick Grayson, AKA Robin, finally understood why criminals are so creeped out by him.
Other than the whole flippy child kicking grown people’s asses and winning thing, obviously (that, and Batman loomed menacingly behind him everytime a criminal even looked at Robin wrong).
Batman had picked up on it first, but the for entirety of their patrol, they kept hearing eerie little giggles and laughter. Haunting them. Never distracting. But persistent. And so creepy. He got goosebumps.
“B, I wanna go home.”
“Hm.” That’s a resounding yes if Dick’s ever heard one.
Maybe Alfred can chase away the giggles and chuckles.
Robin shudders and follows the Bat home.
——
Danny lowered the temperature as he held Tim up near Batman’s cowl so his brother could giggle menacingly. He knew for a fact that any recording device would get completely cram led by the sheer output of ambient ectoplasm he’s emitting. Plus, it freaked Robin out and raised the hairs on the back of the vigilantes’ heads. He tones it down when he noticed Tim rubbing his hands together.
He let out a quiet laugh, enjoying the flight with his brother in his arm and the light of the stars (thanks, Gotham) at his back.
——
Danny: oh, this kid’s got an Obsession, gotta let him do it safely, he’s a liminal from all that tap water
Danny: *forgets Tim isn’t a ghost nor is he from Amity and is therefore extremely breakable*
——
Danny and Tim: doing crime is a good bonding activity
Batman and Robin, who wants to say no it isn’t but they’re literally a pair of illegal vigilantes:
——
Dick as Robin: *cackles*
Tim, learning habits from stalking them: *giggles*
Gotham Criminals: *fear*
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strangerstilinski · 8 months ago
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𝙧𝙤𝙗𝙞𝙣 𝙗𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙡𝙚𝙮
summary: Steve gives his best friend some admittedly questionable dating advice — but it all works out in the end.
fem!reader ~ just a silly and awkward little meetcute. alcohol consumption. lots of pining. far too many mentions of robin's freckles. and i threw in a silly moment with steve because, well, this is me we're talking about and how could i not? fluff [1.9k]
a/n: baby's first robin fic — wow! as always, please leave some love in the form of comments and feedback if you enjoy xx
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Steve has practically sworn on his life that the pick-up line will work on you. On the condition, of course, that Robin delivers it with the right amount of cool nonchalance, with just enough flirty undertone to let you know her intentions.
So, naturally, Robin is repeating the phrase over and over again in her head, because the last thing she wants to do is screw up this monumental opportunity her best friend has practically laid out in front of her. Though, now that she's making her way toward you, she's belatedly realizing that Steve's confidence is almost entirely based on the fact that the line had worked on him when a girl used it at a party. Which was... Decidedly not the most reliable focus group, but she's determined to push past her fear regardless. Plus, Steve has technically shared more words with you than Robin ever has — even if that does equate to a single conversation to Robin's zilch.
Was it against her better judgment to willingly accept dating advice from Steve Harrington? Maybe, but she manages to swallow past her anxiety long enough to push the words out anyway.
"Is this seat taken?"
The words pull you out of where you've been lost in your own head. The music coming from the boombox at the corner of the patio, paired with the raucous laughter from the group splashing around in the pool, had lulled you into a trance-like state.
You were third-wheeling beside Nancy and Jonathan, because you work with them and they're really the only people that you really know at this party. So you might kind of be clinging to them a bit.
You've let your mind wander in an effort to remain unbothered by their flirty laughter, especially with the way that light intoxication and the chaos in the Harrington backyard has slowly brought the volume of their conversation from hushed to outright loud beside you.
Before you knew it, you've spent a good fifteen minutes sipping steadily on your drink and watching the ants march in and out of a gaping crack in the cement in a mindless daze. So, when you hear the question, your head snaps up so hard it nearly gives you whiplash as you focus on the girl standing in front of you.
You've seen her before, but that does nothing to lessen the blow of just how pretty she is. So pretty. Her cheeks are still a little pink from the setting sun, freckles marking her skin everywhere your eyes land as your gaze rakes over her. A wonderfully short pair of denim cutoffs cover the tops of her thighs, and you have a hard time forcing your gaze to continue to travel upward. She's picking at the label on one of the bottles of beer in her hands, both of them dripping with ice water from the cooler she must've snatched them from. Her eyes are wide, a panicked little grimace pulling at her lips before she seems to shake herself off and school her expression into something more relaxed.
"Hey, Robin." Nancy acknowledges sweetly, Jonathan nodding in greeting beside her.
The pretty girl, Robin, smiles in response, albeit tightly, before her attention moves determinedly back to you. She blinks once, twice. Shifts on the balls of her feet and repositions her beers, the glass clinking as they knock together between cold fingers. Her gaze flicks just once to something or someone over your shoulder and she seems to nod to herself once before an adorably nervous little smile pulls at her lips.
You've only ever seen fleeting glimpses of her from afar as she re-shelves movie rentals at Family Video. You'd tried to catch her at the check out counter one time, but Steve Harrington had crushed your hopes the moment he had nudged his co-worker away with a not-so-hushed whisper about letting him test the waters that had your shoulders slumping dejectedly.
When he'd spotted the empty plastic case in your hands, he'd squared his shoulders, a poor attempt at nonchalence, "Gremlins, huh? Uh.. Gun to your head! Who's hotter — Phoebe Cates or Zach Gilligan?"
You'd laughed before correcting him, "Galligan. Gilligan is the guy on the deserted island."
He'd only waved you off, taking the crumpled dollar bills you pulled from your pocket with an oddly pointed comment about how pretty Phoebe Cates was though, right? You blame the way his eyes had flashed with something like excitement when you'd agreed as the reason for your next comment-
"But all time celebrity crush? Gotta be Claudia Wells." You'd paused after the admission before continuing somewhat nervously, "Y'know, from uh, Back To The Future?"
"Oh! The guy's hot mom?"
"Oh, no. His, um, Marty's girlfriend. I just think she's a little softer than Cates. Pretty but still approachable, y'know? Girl Next Door. That kinda thing."
He hadn't looked judgmental, but the moment you'd left the store and the adrenaline brought on by the absurd encounter had receded, you'd been mortified with yourself for being so goddamn transparent. You'd almost gone back a week later, hoping to see the cute mystery girl working the counter again — alone, preferably — but in the end you'd chickened out. Had a friend return your rental for you and you hadn't been back since.. Because she really was nerve-wrackingly pretty, and you were a coward.
But right now she's looking at you expectantly. Waiting.
"Hi?" You manage, words soft and unsure.
The playing field doesn't quite feel even with her standing above you. It's a bit unfair, you think as you blink up at her a little dumbly — It's hard to focus when her attention is on you like this. The sky is a backdrop of pink and orange behind her, stunning little shadows collecting beneath the bridge of her nose and the ridge of her brow. Perfect teeth dig in at the corner of her lower lip with her smile. There's a pale stripe of skin at the base of her middle finger, untouched by the sun and only visible because the chunky ring she's wearing has gone slightly askew against one of the beer bottles in her hand.
"Hi," Robin returns, just the single syllable sounding giddy on her tongue. Blue eyes drop to where you sit on the stone bench beside Nancy, gaze lingering on the bare skin of your thighs beneath your shorts before they travel back up to meet your own again. "Is this seat taken?" She repeats, a little more hopeful this time.
"Oh." It only comes out a little dejected. You look toward Nancy and Jonathan in your peripherals, as if willing another space on the stone bench to suddenly appear — When one doesn't, you sigh. The nearly empty plastic cup in your hands crunches when you clutch it a little tighter to your chest. Your jaw tightens, heel scuffing against cement as you kick your foot out in preparation to rise and relinquish your seat. "No, I mean.. Yeah, you can have it." You nudge Nancy with your arm, chin to your shoulder as you speak a little softer, "I'm gonna go grab a drink and, um.. Mingle."
The look on Nancy's face immediately gives away the fact that she knows there's no way in hell that you plan to do anything of the sort. You are not a person who mingles, Nancy and Jonathan both know this. However, before Nancy can say anything, Robin is speaking again.
"No!" She nearly yells, voice cracking. Her eyes have gone a little wide. She takes a small step closer, one of her knees knocking against your own and effectively impeding your ability to stand.
"..No?" You echo in confusion.
"Um," Robin swallows harshly, curling in on herself just a little. Her face scrunches with embarrassment, her teeth scraping along her lip. She blows out a harsh breath before thrusting one of the beers in her hands toward you, "Here! I, uh, I brought this over for you."
You bend to place your plastic cup beneath the bench in a flash, entirely too eager when you reach out to take the offering. You get a little distracted by the way her fingers glisten with condensation, and your stomach outright flips when they brush your own in the transfer.
"Oh. Thank you," You feel a bit like a schoolgirl with the airy cadence that slips into your voice. Her touch lingers for a moment, blue eyes seemingly glued to the place where your index finger covers her pinky around the neck of the bottle. "You can totally still have my seat," You add quickly, "I don't mind! Like I said-"
"Actually-" Robin interrupts, "Well, actually, I thought- If you want, of course- I thought we could maybe, kind of, in a way, share the seat?" It comes out as a question and only serves to make you more confused. "I thought – again, if you want – I thought I could, possibly, sit.. on your lap. Just, because.. You know, that way you could avoid forfeiting your seat and maybe, you and I, we could get to know each other a little better? But we totally don't have to! That's okay too! Absolutely okay, in fact. You can just enjoy that beer and I'll go-"
She's already shuffling a small step back as her words bleed together in her anxious rambling. Your free hand catches her wrist to pull her back before she can get too far, your legs parting to allow her to slip between them. Her knees brush the insides of your thighs and your heart thumps entirely too obnoxiously beneath your ribs in response.
"I don't mind," You say quickly. Your fingers shake with the adrenaline that washes over you suddenly and you give a gentle tug to urge her to sit. "You can sit. You can absolutely sit."
She sits.
She sits and pockets of her denim shorts press into the top of your thigh, her knees knocking together as she tries to settle into a comfortable position. You surprise even yourself with the hand that lands on the small of her back to keep her balanced, and when she presses into your touch minutely you choose to leave it there. Your palm is without a doubt sweating where it settles against the cotton of her shirt, but you don't dare move it now that it's found a place there.
If you thought it was hard to breathe when she was standing in front of you, it's a whole new ballgame to have her face this close to your own. You're still looking up at her, neck craned back just a little to look at the cluster of freckles above her cupid's bow, the dark eyeliner smudged artfully beneath her lashes.
You watch her gaze drag slow over your own face — like you're something to be admired and, God.
You can practically hear your own blood pumping in your ears, and you will your excited nerves to settle, sipping from the chilled beverage in your hand just for something to distract you, even just for a moment. The glass catches the top of Robin's bare thigh when you lower it again and she gasps at the cold, the gasp turning over into a breathless laugh while you curse and stutter out an apology.
You miss the way her gaze flicks over your shoulder to meet Steve's watchful eye where he sends her a whole flurry of excited hand movements ending with an emphatic thumbs up. But, you do notice the way her toe nudges into your shin lightly, the shy smile pulling at her lips as she leans into you a little more comfortably, arm pressing into your shoulder.
"Hi," She starts slowly, "I'm Robin."
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lovely dividers by @strangergraphics
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leaf-line · 5 months ago
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Hello! Can i request some Yandere robin/Kafka and Himeko (seperate) x Gn reader, romantic hcs, please?
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𝐒𝐡𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐰𝐚𝐲
Yandere! Robin/Kafka/Himeko x Gn! Reader
❏ You weren't staying away from them because you were 'shy', you have a perfectly good reason to.
cw: ooc, general yandere content.
w/c: 1,557
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You were happy with what you have, you were happy with the many people around you, but you liked Robin too.
She was irreplaceable, along with all of the people you love. You cared about everyone.
Robin liked you too! She liked the way you told her not to push herself much and to not pressure herself, the way you were all worried and caring for Robin.
She relishes on your affection for her greatly, no matter how small or big it is, Robin would indulge in your attention.
Even if you give her the smallest affection, then the largest to somebody else, she's... she's... She's fine by it. Totally.
But later, you were suddenly down, refusing to pay attention to her, or anything for the matter, even yourself.
Thus... Robin thinks you need saving.
No, no, why won't you smile like you used to? Did something so bad happen?
Robin is appalled by the way you just won't help yourself or push yourself for the better and move on? Isn't that what you told her to do? Why are you opting to be a flesh rotting in your bed and not getting out of your shell?
She had problems too, she too were hard on herself when her mom died, but she used those experiences to get up and push further, why can't you do the same?
She thought that maybe it was her turn to give her full affection and attention to you instead. In a way to pay you back, yet... You won't allow her.
Robin is just concerned. Why won't you let her pamper you?
Why won't you let her sing songs to you?
Why won't you let her visit you?
How could you even refuse such an angel who's willing to drag you up when you're down?
Maybe you're shy. Perhaps she's way too overbearing for your mental capacity to accept her payback. She's sweet, empathetic, and extremely kind to you, especially you.
Why else would you avoid her other than the reason that you're flustered by her appearance? It's because of that, and that's the only reason.
"Oh... My love... Is there any other reason why you're avoiding me other than you think I'll over shine you? Don't worry, I won't do that. You deserve your own spotlight! I'll look at it, only me... I love you, alright?"
She says, clinging on your waist, holding it down enough for you to be thoroughly uncomfortable inside. She would then brush your hair with her hand as if you were a delicate being she needed to protect from danger.
Even after you have tried to escape her countless times, she still has you in her arms, begging for your attention every second, every minute, every hour. It's scary to know that with the snap of her fingers, all of her devoted fans would turn their heads at you, ready to strike with their pitch forks and torches for not accepting such an angel in your life.
Though... Has she ever stopped and thought that maybe, just maybe, the reason for you avoiding her was because you just figured out that she's the reason that the people you've recently been talking to disappear out of thin air? Even the ones you treasured and cared for?
You didn't find any animal fact that said birds are ruthless when they are jealous. You learned it the hard way.
Robin didn't even give you enough time to grieve for them before clinging on to you now that her 'obstacles' are gone.
She hums a melody. It's as if to comfort you from your loss, it feels mocking.
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You found a lady so breathtakingly beautiful it captured your full attention.
You then would ask for her number, maybe start a small chat, heck, even standing next to such beauty would be enough.
If you found Kafka beautiful, then she finds you adorable.
She's curious as to why you would willingly march straight into danger, clueless and unarmed. She might as well give it a shot and try to get to know you better.
This isn't a part of the script. Plus, she finds your face and mentality cute. Is there really no way you don't know anything about her?
Perhaps you don't read the news or you haven't seen her wanted posters in all its glory. Perhaps you knew and are just dipping your hand in with hidden intent. Perhaps you're just dumb. Either way, she'll know soon enough.
Rather than subtly forcing you to outright say who you are, Kafka played the slow—yet fun—game.
You went from conversing, to going on dates, to walking together in the sunset.
And not once has she seen you feel threatened around her, or even show a hint of your plans to capture her. Every last bit of you was adorable as she thought. That surprises her for a bit. However, not for long.
"This gift is handmade, my efforts and results. Accept it, dear." People's fun has to end one way or another
Her voice makes your ears ring, it gives you a headache. As much you want to cover your ears and muffle her sickly sweet voice, you can't. Your hand is trembling. It is too heavy to move, and you already feel bile rising up on your throat.
It was going well. Now you're asking yourself why we're you sitting on the ground, bathing in a puddle of blood.
Huh...? She told you in one of your dates she was going to gift you a big surprise, you weren't expecting a surprise that makes you fall on your knees at the sight in a different way.
Why... Why is this happening?
You get up on your feet and run away as fast as you can, just anyhow to get away from her.
"Don't try to back out now... You're hurting my feelings." Her footsteps were slow, loud, impending.
Tap, tap, tap, tap—
"You wanted to get to know me too, didn't you? Are you not liking what you see? Are you not liking the real me?" She tries to convince you.
Tap, tap, tap—
"Come on, don't be shy, I don't bite, I promise, come out now. You can't hide forever, can you?" She hums, as if to harmonize it with her footsteps.
Tap.
"Found you."
Don't just walk straight into the cobwebs and try to leave so quickly, for the more you struggle to escape, the more you get tangled and stuck in it.
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Himeko wanted you join her, to board the Astral Express, telling you all sorts of stuffs about how amazing it would be to travel all across the cosmos.
You were there to support her from the start, she wished the same for the end.
You admired her ambitions and pushed her up to reach it. Himeko wanted you to be with her when she does so.
Himeko loved you dearly, the way you would encourage her on her adventures, the way you'd still swallow the last drop of coffee she made for you even though it's hard to swallow, the way you would hold her hand and tell directly that things will go the way she would want it.
She loved the way you can easily melt her heart with those genuine words and touch.
But when you declined and said that you will only be there to watch her fulfill her dreams. It was difficult to take in, but she wasn't able to press further.
And so she conducts the train without you. Only occasionally visiting your home world, then to leave, for there's more other pressing matters.
But the more she embarks, the more she learns and develop her own mindset.
For Himeko, trailblazing follows an unspoken set of steps to commit. Board the train, build immovable and precious memories, then disembark.
In other words, leave. It's difficult, but Himeko's determination perseveres, no matter how many of her short time companions leave her, she will still traverse the stars.
Himeko is the conductor, the train needs her to move.
But she needs you to move. Right now, she needs to hear your voice, your way of lightening up her day with little to no effort. So things will be alright with her. No matter how lonely it gets, no matter how much difficult it is to preserve these memories, she can still retell those adventures with you.
"Isn't that right? [Name]?" She puts her cup of coffee, gazing at the coffee table, then takes a moment to admire the scenery of the window, showing the stars of the universe at full display along with the planet close enough to visualize, then you.
The couch you were sitting on were the same as where Himeko sits. You felt compelled to move away from her, yet she will only move closer. "Don't be shy, it's just the two of us here. The others are away." She gestures at the window. "If you're worried about PomPom, they're in a different room."
She holds your hand tightly, things will go the way she would want it, not the way you would want.
"Please don't leave me. You wouldn't wanna make me lonely, would you?" She holds your hand closer to her face.
Declining isn't an option anymore.
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dearharriet · 1 year ago
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I Want Your Video; Steve Harrington x Reader 📼
summary: steve always takes care of you on a night out.
word count: 1.4K
warnings: drinking, smoking, swearing, fem!reader, fluff
a/n: inspired by a djo song with the same title. i’m such a sucker for steve <3
“I ‘ave to go t’the bathrooom,” you tell Steve, holding tight to the hot skin of his bicep. In a drunken stupor, your thumb swipes sweetly over it once, unable to resist.
His other arm, the one you’re not holding to, has your clutch tucked under it. It’s unclear if he’s being gentlemanly or if he’s monitoring your intake. He certainly didn’t take Nancy’s or Robin’s. Or Argyle’s belly bag.
“‘Kay, be safe,” Steve says, patting your elbow. He looks a touch hot, red-cheeked and a little damp around the edges. Dancing must’ve made a mess of you if he looks so disheveled from just standing and talking. You furrow your brows.
“Come with me?” Pouting, your grip slides down to take his hand, but he pulls away.
“Uh—maybe Nance or Rob should do that.”
He says it like such a request is verboten. You look back towards Nance and Robin, relentlessly moving on the dance floor.
“They won’t go with meeee—“ you whine, and then simper when he sighs in defeat.
Steve steers you toward the stairwell that leads down to the toilets. While you weave through the crowds, he stays behind you, a steadying force at your back.
The stairwell is much cooler than the bar. It’s a relief to suck in air that’s not muggy with sweat and beer. At the bottom of the dingey stairs a couple is draped over one another talking closely, and nearer to the bathroom there’s a trio of people sharing a smoke and waiting. Steve and you take up residence just next to them. The concrete wall is cooling on your hot back and it elicits a sigh.
“Having fun?” Steve asks, facing you with his arms crossed and a shoulder leant on the wall. Your clutch is shoved in his front pocket like a miniature Bible.
“Uh-huh.” You nod with exaggerated windedness. “Wish you’d dance with me, though.”
The bathroom door clicks open and a guy comes out, nodding awkwardly at all seven heads turned his way. The queue dwindles to three again—plus Steve, who is smiling at you apologetically.
“Nah, you wouldn’t wanna see me dance. I tend to intimidate people with how skilled I am.”
A laugh bubbles out of you. “Ohhh, right,” you nod. “Must be hard, having all that talent. And you’re s’busy keepin’ me sober.” You speak so fast the words slur on the way out, and Steve chuckles teasingly.
“I’m doin’ a shit job, aren’t I? You’re in a state already.” He reaches out and brushes your arm when he says this, his knuckles leaving goosebumps behind them. When he pulls his hand back he’s grown more sincere. “Who said I’m keeping you sober? I’ve let you drink all you want.”
“You let me,” you tease, “But you’re keeping my wallet. And you’ve been watching me all night.”
“Yeah, well.” He looks defensive. “Someone’s gotta have your back.”
The bathroom door opens again, and the line shrinks even more. You pick the conversation right back up.
“What ‘bout Nance and Rob? And the guys?” Turning toward Steve, your arms cross so you’re mirroring him. “They’ve all got their wallets.”
“They’ve got each other, too.” Steve playfully swings at your shoulder, and you take the hit willingly. “Who’s got you, huh, rockstar?”
A smile splits your face with glee at the nickname. You step closer and you’re about to answer—you, you’ve got me—when Steve clears his throat.
You frown, and Steve smiles, juts his chin toward the bathroom door. It’s empty, you realize, and Steve and you are alone. It seems the third member of the bathroom trio was only company, like Steve.
“You know what to do,” Steve mutters, and you reluctantly peel away from the wall.
“Oh, wait!” You whip around and offer a hand out for your wallet. Steve gives it over wordlessly, and then you’re locking the door behind you.
As suspected, you look a mess. Your hair is frizzed and a touch tangled. Dark mauve eyeliner has smoked itself out—all over your undereye—and your cheeks are red and dampened with sweat.
Despite it all, you feel good. You brought your clutch so you could touch up your lipstick, and you do, but you don’t need to. It’s almost like what Steve said; You’re a rockstar. You look like one, anyway.
After washing your hands, the only thing you do to your appearance is fluff your hair up even more, playing up this smudged version of your original look.
It feels impossibly easy to grin at Steve once you emerge from the bathroom. Steve laughs.
“Why do I feel like you got more drunk while you were in there?”
You tighten your smile primly. “Not drunker, just better looking.”
Steve pulls his brows together almost painfully, his features unreadable. You saunter over to him anyways, stepping into his bubble. His full back is pressed to the wall now, a leg kicked up, and you’re as close as you can get without being thigh-to-knee. Steve’s nervous eyes scan you.
“Want me to take that?” Steve points to your clutch. You nod, but ignore the hand he has waiting for you. Feeling bold, you reach around him and tuck it into his back pocket. Your chests meet, and then crush closer as you both gasp. Pulling away feels suddenly impossible, so you don't, and Steve doesn’t make you. He licks his lips.
“Y’didn’t lock the door,” he mumbles, but your brain jumbles as his hand smooths over your ribs.
“Hmm?” You can’t be bothered with words, feeling more intoxicated by his touch than the three drinks in your system.
Steve rubs a small circle over your side. “The bathroom door,” he says softly, “it stayed on vacant the whole time.”
Oh, yeah. It had. Your mouth pops open, and then you shoot him a wry grin.
“Whoops.”
Steve’s responding head shake is exasperated but fond.
“You trust me too much,” he sighs.
It’s not a joke. A string of insecurity holds the sentence together, and you know what it is. It’s easy to see that he knows, too. Moving closer, committing to the embrace you’ve found yourself in, you pin Steve with a sincere stare.
“Do I?” It’s excessively rhetorical, stilling any rebuttal he has. Steve purses his lips together, and then glances at yours. You toe up ever so slightly, in anticipation. Both of Steve’s hands are on you now, though they’re holding your arms, keeping you at bay.
“We can’t,” Steve whispers, glancing at the stairwell, and you realize the bar is still upstairs with all of your friends. They’d probably come looking soon, vying for another round, another dance. You look to the stairwell too, and then to the other side of the hall, and back to Steve.
“Yet here we are.” The murmur is sultry, luring Steve closer, tempting his hand to wind into the soft hair at the nape of your neck.
“Here we are,” Steve repeats, and then your lips are abruptly too occupied by his to respond.
Steve’s hand that’s not gripping your neck winds over your shoulders, keeping you close. His nose crushes to your cheek as he drags his mouth over yours again and again.
A part of you—the same part that’s observing how good of a kisser he is—can’t believe you’re mouth to mouth with the Steve Harrington from high school. The other half, probably the truer half, knows it’s been a long time coming. Years of patching up and skirting around each other, protecting each other because you had to, and now taking care of each other because you wanted to. Because no one else would.
When you separate, you’re both breathless and effervescent. Steve is staring at you like you hung the moon.
“You’re so beautiful,” he coos, his thumb caressing the rosy apple of your cheek. Steve has a way of marrying sincerity and charm, and it needles at your heart ruthlessly.
You beam and kiss him again as a thank you.
“Think you might be glowing,” he continues, speaking right into your mouth. His teeth clack against yours as the kiss grows too smiley for its own good.
“You look pretty, too,” you goad, tracing his lips. “Cherry’s a good look on you.”
Steve pinches his brow and then notices your smeared lipstick.
“Aw, come on.”
You laugh and help him wipe it off, but when you return to the bar later, Argyle still complements Steve’s beautiful makeup.
+
thank you for reading ! my requests are open :)
masterlist
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brucewaynehater101 · 9 months ago
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Just read a fic about Tim finally getting post patrol ice cream and his own renovated room after admitting to never getting any unlike his siblings and now I'm imagining an AU
Imagine this, Tim is tired, pulling an all nighter, because he did too poor a job at pretending as Robin, and it's too late to do damage control. Not in front of villains or heroes alike
But the people
They've caught onto how the third robin receives less than the first two
Robin acts less like a child, less like a son to Batman, and more like a 'Business Partner's as he said with his own words. Like a handler
Robin who has to put work into keeping Batman from overexerting himself, from cruelly punishing those who fall victim to him
Robin who receives less praise or care from Batman and cares for both himself and his "Boss" as he said with his own words
And it gets worse after the mantle passes down to Stephanie and Damian because the people notices how even as Batman treats them better than the third, now rebranded as Red Robin—
—Red Robin is still as much a Business Partner to batman as he always has been since the Dark Knight's loss of his second bird
And as much as tries to keep things buried, word is spreading that Red Robin is black sheep of the batfamily, and he won't be able to hide it for much longer
Have fun with this idea lol
I know the fic you're talking about! "with the exception of..." by DSS1101. That's a good one!
"Home Decor" by sElkieNight60 is about Duke remodeling his room as part of the new Wayne member tradition. This brings up feelings in Tim cause his bedroom still looks like a barely used guestroom.
The concept you've mentioned gives similar vibes to a hc/au post I read about how JJ (Joker Junior) isn't known by anyone but the goons/Rogues, Barbara, Jim, and Bruce. All the other Bats don't know. In consideration of Tim, electric shock weapons are immediately put away when Red Robin arrives on scene (I love that idea so much).
I think, with the Gothamites around when Bruce was going on his grief spiral almost killing spree, people feel a kinship with Tim. They couldn't have stopped Batman and, with part guilt and part relief, it seems only a child could. They watch this child, who seems to be sacrificing everything for a brutal and cruel man, and how he pulls Batman back into the symbol he's supposed to be. It brings out the protective and parental instinct of a lot of people.
This cues civilians, goons, and rogues alike trying to assist Robin in small ways. Tim as Robin had people offering him food (in sealed containers), giving him compliments, handing him scarves or hats (how could Batman let a child out in this weather without a hat?!?!?), and more. They tried to give him small moments to be the child he was pretending he wasn't. He obviously wasn't getting decent parenting at home if Batman was just his boss and his real folks were letting him out to fight.
There's a kind of guilty gratefulness towards the third Robin and a protectiveness of him. All young Bats are treated with care by civilains and some goons, but Robin three was special. He willingly became the barrier between Batman and Gotham. A lot of folks owe their ability to work (and not have exorbiant medical debt and medical conditions) to Tim. He saved them by damning himself. He needed the support Batman obviously wasn't providing.
Tim, as intelligent as he is, doesn't realize the affect he has on Gotham's older population. The younger ones will react with slightly more respect towards him than the other Bats, but they weren't around to see what Tim's sacrifice did for everyone.
Tim, with his self-doubt and hero-worship of his predecessors, thought his treatment throughout Robin was the work of those who came before him. Of course Gothamites trust and help out Robin when Dick and Jason built that foundation.
He's not exactly wrong, but it isn't to the extent they actually do for Tim.
Unfortunately for Tim, Damian and Jason do know that his Robin was treated with such reverence. They don't know why, but their Robins did/do not get treated that way. They chalk it up to Tim being the "perfect" and "can do no wrong" Robin. It's one point of contention they are unable to clear up due to Tim not knowing about it and the other two not wanting to explain their jealousy.
Steph was not treated as well as Damian and Jason when she was Robin. She, in this AU, was not treated as much of a crutch as Tim is. Despite that, her Spoiler/Batgirl/whatever persona gets some of the protectiveness that Tim's personas do. Bruce was more healed with Steph, but he was still an ass. That was obvious to any Gothamite watching.
Steph, because she was around at the time and talks with Gothamites to know what rumors are floating around, becomes aware after her death of why Tim's Robin is held up with such respect. This allows, unknowingly to Tim, for them to reach more understanding. With her knowledge of Tim's time as Robin, she's able to point out how he was being an ass, what he should've done instead, and that she herself was sorry for some of her actions.
When more and more individuals cue into Tim's black sheep position in the Batfam, this could go two ways.
One, Tim is targeted more due to his lack of support.
Two, Gothamites and Rogues increase their aid to Red Robin and become slightly cold to the Bats for their treatment of him.
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oookaline · 3 months ago
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just thinking scary dog priviledge but its tim x kon vs red robin x superboy ig
like in civvies scary dog priviledge goes to Kon when someone is being just a bit too friendly with the Wayne kid
Or when he and Tim go to get some coffee and the bartender slips her number onto tims cup who gets picked up by Kon and thrown across the room in such a speed that you blink you miss but- is that coffee running down the window..?
Or in galas where Tim is charming some old ladies and entertaining their grandkids when suddenly they seem nervous for some reason so Tim turns around to see Kon standing behind him with the biggest smile ever just to turn back around and see that the girl/boy who was so willingly flirting with him earlier has gone pale and gave a quick goodbye, "Human disaster strikes again and fumbles badly-" "Shut it Meatsack-"
Or just walking in general, when Tim Drake isn't Tim Drake-Wayne and he doesnt have to wear gala smiles and expensive three piece suits so he's bundles in a hoodie and hunched and cluching his messenger bag like his lifeline depends on it; but to a passerby all they see is tired cat™ Tim Drake who looks delectable and- is that a monster behind him? (It's Kon who's making himseelf taller and puffing his muscles and making sure to hold intensive eye contact with every passerby who looks in Tim's direction with some kind of interest)
But when if their supersonas? Tim takes the scary dog priviledge to a new level.
They just saved some people from a collapsed building and some person is draping themselves all over superboy and exaggerating their hurt ankle. How do we know they're exaggerating? Well, purelly because Red Robin just appeared out of nowhere and slammed the head of his bo staff so hard on the ground near them that it made cracks on the concrete while makingg the pperson jump up and scurry away as well, ankle suddenly fine enough to move again. Red's excuse? "Oops. bug."
Patrolling toguether one night and people are asking for superboy's phottos and autographs and he laughs and smilles and poses and people question why he's alone while laughing and brushing their hands against his arms and he just cocks his head "alone?" and a presence is suddenly felt in the alley nearby and if you focus just enough you can see the outline of someone who absolutely looks and feels like they're planning a murder and everyone just respectfully tales a step back because what the fuck.
Or when they're either talking with new heroes/heroes who don't know them well and just get a bit too close to Kon and suddenly they feel a murderous aura around them just to look around and see Red Robin just staring them down with no smile on his face and they frown because surely this feeling is not becaause I feel threatened by a human out of all-
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gffa · 1 year ago
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Damn, Dick didn't even hesitate with that. I mean, he's not wrong, Bruce spent those years traveling the world and obsessing single-mindedly over becoming the perfect fighter to be able to protect Gotham, he never allowed himself friends or teammates or truly relying on anyone but himself, he never got the teenager experience. He was a teenager, but he doesn't know anything about being a teenager, and that's sad, but it also means that Dick has to remind him that he's not the same, for all the weirdness that is Dick Grayson's life as Robin, he still grabs onto the concept of friends and hanging out and doing teenager things. Which makes Bruce's reactions all the more meaningful--he's always viewed Dick through the lens of being similar to himself just a little too much, sometimes Bruce has trouble letting go of that view of him, that they're mirror images of each other, especially when it overlaps with how this kid brought light and laughter and joy to Wayne Manor and Bruce's life, how hard it is for Bruce to love him and let him go, because he's never gotten that experience, either. Everyone Bruce Wayne has ever loved was either ripped away from him in bloody tatters or he's held onto them with an iron fist. Dick Grayson is the first one he's had to willingly open his hands with, and it's hard as hell when he never had or wanted those normal teenage experiences, when he never wanted to be the leader of a team of friends, when he doesn't want to open his heart to people who can be ripped away from him again. He never had the chance to learn how to do it like most people do. But he does do it. Because he also wants Dick to be better than him, the whole point of taking Dick in was to help him not be what Bruce is, to save him from that. And he has to let Dick make his choices, have his friends, let him go, even just a little, even when Bruce doesn't understand the appeal of wanting friends to just hang out with, he sees that Dick needs that, and so he asks, did your decision save lives? Yes. Will you do it again? Not without talking to you first. Then one month without the uniform. This moment is told from Dick's point of view, we don't know what's going on Bruce's head, but it's not a hard to leap to see that it's hitting every single exposed nerve he has--his secrets are what allow him to be Batman, this kid he let into his heart is slowly starting to step out on his own and go away from him, he did it without talking to Bruce first--that he's being asked to open his iron fisted grip to keep everything he treasures close. And still Bruce Wayne uncurls his clenched fingers just enough, against every instinct he has, and lets go a little, praising Dick for doing a better job than he could as he goes.
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frogaroundandfindout · 29 days ago
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I used to give the 'lazarus pit madness' trope for jason so much shit unless it was a REALLY good fic that did something interesting with the idea. But the more I read of pre52 red hood the more I'm just like "yeah no I have absolutely no idea how I'd reconcile all this heinous shit he's done without finding a way to make it not his fault actually"
I hate the 'jason was always a monster and bruce couldn't save him' nonsense so much, he was literally just a homeless little boy. MY BUDDY LITERALLY WILLINGLY WENT BACK TO BEING HOMELESS BECAUSE HE DIDN'T WANT TO HURT PEOPLE FOR MA GUNN EVEN THOUGH IT MEANT GIVING UP FOOD AND SHELTER AND DECENT TREATMENT
jason sweetheart I'm so sorry dc butchered you like this my god
When the characterization is so inconsistent the fandom has to resort to literal magic to explain it.
But seriously, I haven’t read a whole lot of Jason as Robin but from what I did read he was so tiny and just wanted to do good. It’s a disservice to every character involved for Bruce to adopt him because he thought he’d be a criminal otherwise. It implies Bruce thinks of every kid living in poverty as a shoe in for crime and not as some of the most vulnerable individuals in low SE areas. Which is just…so bad considering he’s 1) a rich white man stereotyping a large group of people and 2) someone that fights crime because of an act of violence commited in front of him as a little boy. A Batman that doesn’t believe in the goodness of a child (especially one like Jason who, like you said, gave up basic necessities for the sake of his morals) and protecting it in a way he wasn’t protected is a very very weird Batman to me. So it turns Bruce into a white knight and redhood into confirmation of Bruce’s stereotyping and paranoia.
If it was just Jason thinking that’s why Bruce took him in it would be a completely different animal. I might have even enjoyed reading about how Jason rationalized their changed relationship after he came back swinging (literally) and thinking that it’s some innate characteristic about him that drove the wedge between him and Bruce before he even realized it was there. But it’s very much not just Jason. EVERYONE. FUCKING. SAYS. IT. And tbh that kinda ruins everyone just a bit in my eyes. If not agreement and support for Bruce’s bs, they’re at least silently complicit in perpetuating it.
But beyond that, it also makes me think of Devin Grayson’s run where she kept talking about how dick was “meant for crime” or would have obviously been a criminal if it wasn’t for Bruce. This was built on frankly awful stereotypes regarding Romani people. I bring this one up because the combination of the two does not make Bruce look as good as the writers seemed to think.
But if we ignore the bs involved and take the reason for Jason’s adoption at face value, I think it offers an interesting comparison between him and Damian. Jason is presented a child destined for a life of crime who eventually became one of The Villains despite Batman’s efforts. Damian was an heir destined for crime who eventually became one of The Heroes because of Batman’s efforts. Idk it’s just interesting to me.
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worriedvision · 2 months ago
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A romance with no romance - Sunday
Gender neutral reader, readers good friends with Robin here and they've had a big crush on Sunday, knowing he doesn't like them back. Angst lol, includes heavy spoilers from the most recent trailblazer quest (inspired by it tbh!)
--
You were a fellow singer, and you landed up meeting Robin and Sunday at the same time. It wasn't even related to your work, and at that point you were an upcoming vocalist. You didn't have a good time that day, your mentor seemingly disappointed that you couldn't find the confidence to wear an outfit too revealing to 'accentuate your voice'. Robin invited you to join the both of them, which you accept, and you start talking to the both of them.
Truth be told, Robin was such a lovely person to speak to. Free from the singing conversation, just talking as if you were just normal people. You didn't speak that much to Sunday, he seemed more reserved. It was when you saw him and Robin interacting that you foolishly fell in love. While he was embarrassed to say it out loud, you could feel how much he loved hearing Robin's performances. It made you want to strive to get an ounce of that attention, starved of positive attention in your pursuit for a successful career.
"Robin, I want to get better with my singing." You admit, Robin waiting for you to continue. "It feels like I'm trying everything I can, and I know I have some potential, but I'm so scared because nothing I do works."
Robin falls silent for a moment. She's smart enough to know that she is a very talented singer, but there's another factor that can be in play here.
Her influence from her brother.
Robin gives you an idea - ask out Sunday, and once he says yes you both will be out as a couple. You honestly didn't know what to think when she said it - was it really the fact you weren't being out there enough? Or surrounding yourself with the right people enough?
Regardless, you go ahead with the plan. Surprisingly, Sunday accepts. In any other scenario of this happening, you would be over the moon.
But you know Robin spoke to Sunday about the plan, and nobody was more important to Sunday than his sister. You weren't jealous of Robin, absolutely not, but you felt a twinge of guilt when Sunday accepted as you knew by the look in his eyes that you had some sort of feelings for him, and these feelings would never be returned.
He would hold your hand, tell people he loves you and you were like an obedient cat that would willingly curl up in his lap - leading to the inevitable 'thats so cute' reactions.
He did this publicly for months, but he wouldn't share any affection with you when it was you, him and Robin. He would always have Robin between the two of you, and you'd just hang out as you typically would before you became a 'happy' couple.
Fast forward to when Sunday had his downfall, you were suddenly in the spotlight for a strange reason - people were worried you were being used by Sunday as a pawn, as he would be projecting you out more than he did with his sister at times. When he got locked away, you got more popular. Your career was taking off!
But...you weren't happy. Neither you nor Robin were happy. Neither of you blame each other - you both know Sunday did those actions of his own discretion - but you silently thought to yourselves 'what if I did this differently '?
One night, you get visited by a strange figure. No features to identify by, you fear for good reason, and they give you a proposal.
"If you are willing to ensure your partner's punishment, Sunday will be set free." They state.
"...But how could I possibly help here? Even if I do that, isn't there a chance he gets caught and gets punished more?" You query.
"Sunday is a very capable man - he can survive." The cloaked figure replies.
"And what about outsiders? Won't they get suspicious when I disappear?" You tilt your head.
"That's a simple answer - people will pretend to care about your unfortunate disappearance, and then move on swiftly." The figure bluntly explains.
"...I'll do it. I'll take his place." You nod, the figure giggling before grasping you by the forearm. You lose consciousness, unable to stay awake.
--
When you next wake up, you're in a dark room. Thorns wrapped tightly around you, securing you as if you could run away. No windows, only a door in front of you somewhere, and even if you could get out of the room what was the chance of you getting caught?
Or of Sunday getting caught, as you were in here to essentially be a substitute.
Looking back at his way of describing you, you really begin to realise he felt hunted by you. As cute as his descriptions were, he described you as a cat as opposed to a songbird. He would talk about Robin as a songbird, perhaps he thought you were going after Robins career.
But it doesn't matter now. Your life as you knew it is now over. No career, no friends, pure solitude. The only thing you can truly yearn for is Robins wellbeing. You knew Sunday would be fine, and Robin would likely be fine, but you can't do anything more than what you have done already.
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dwobbitfromtheshire · 2 months ago
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Part One. . .Part Two
Steve shuffled into Robin's room to find her hanging upside down on her bed.
"I sensed you were near," Robin said.
"Yeah, because you heard me, jackass," Steve said. "Eddie called. He wants to know if we can invite other people into our inner circle."
"Hm, how well does he know this person?" Robin asked.
"Well, he only met her today, but apparently, all it took was like an hour for him to trust her. Apparently, there's something about her," Steve said bitterly.
"Hm, risky, but let's see if this bitch is cheating on you," Robin said, narrowing her eyes. "If he is, he's out of the coven. I'll allow a meeting."
Later that evening, Eddie stepped through Robin's bedroom door to find them sprawled out on her bed.
"Are you guys wearing matching onesies?" Eddie asked.
"They're called long underwear," Steve scoffed.
"But essentially, yes," Robin said.
"We're also, wearing bears on our feet, bet you didn't notice that, did you?" Steve asked, crossing his arms.
"Are you mad at me, baby?" Eddie asked.
"You're bringing another girl home, and apparently, there's something about her," Robin said, looking at him in disbelief. "Of course, he's mad at you."
"Bet you didn't even notice that I'm wearing the lip gloss that you like," Steve pouted.
"Oh, sweetheart, no, it's not like that, I swear. I'm fucking crazy about you, no one can take your place," Eddie said and straddled his waist. "And you bet your sweet ass, I noticed the lip gloss."
"Really?" Steve asked bashfully.
"Really."
Eddie leaned in to kiss Steve, but Robin's hand shot out and dove between their faces. They ended up kissing Robin's hand instead.
"Not in my bed," Robin said.
"Can I come in yet?" A voice asked outside the door.
"Yeah, of course," Eddie said, squishing down in between Robin and Steve.
The door opened, and when Robin saw who it was, she tumbled right off the bed.
"Vickie!" Robin exclaimed.
"Robin! I didn't know this was your place," Vickie said, beaming. "When Eddie said he wanted to bring me to his boyfriend's platonic fiancée's house, I was really confused and also intrigued."
"As anyone would be," Robin said.
"I still can't believe that she went willingly with a formerly accused murderer," Eddie said, grinning. "She's very trusting."
"I never believed you could kill anyone. You were just the easier target," Vickie said.
"Still," Eddie said, and she laughed.
Robin stared at Vickie, her cheeks pink as she grinned. They couldn't take their eyes off each other.
"Hi," Robin whispered.
"Hi," Vickie said.
"I just realized that I'm wearing a onesie," Robin swallowed.
"It's long underwear, Robin," Eddie said with an amused grin.
"Not that I'm complaining, but why did Eddie bring you here?" Robin asked, blushing.
"Oh. We were in the library, and our hands reached for the same book. It was the only book, of course, so we kind of had this little fight, well, not really a fight, but anyway, we ended up sharing the book. We also ended up talking, and I sort of mentioned that I just found out that I'm related to Chrissy Cunningham, and it really sucks because I didn't get to know her. I mean, I talked to her a few times, and she seemed nice, but it wasn't enough to know her. I knew nothing about my own damn cousin, and that's when Eddie sort of invited me over," Vickie said.
Steve and Eddie shared a look after Vickie finally finished talking.
"Your cousin?!" Robin exclaimed.
"Yeah, she's the daughter of my father's twin sister," Vickie said. "Apparently, when we were like two, my father had concerns about how my mother was treating Chrissy, and instead of helping her own daughter, she placed a restraining order on my father. My aunt apparently had suffered from severe post partum that was left untreated. And anyway, we just weren't able to get close to her."
"I'm sorry," Robin said softly.
"Yeah, well, like I said, I didn't really know her," Vickie said. "And I think Eddie wanted to commiserate over that together. Although, I kind of thought that it was because he had a crush on her."
Eddie sighed and moved to sit between Steve’s legs as Robin climbed back onto the bed. He lowered himself down so he could tuck his head underneath Steve’s head, letting his boyfriend's arms.
"I did have a crush on her," Eddie said and frowned. "Or rather one was starting to develop. I'll never know where it could have gone. . .would I still have fallen for Steve?"
"You never said anything," Steve frowned.
"Well, we've only been dating like a couple of weeks," Eddie said. "And it was hard to talk about."
"I'm sorry, Eddie," Steve said and paused. "And I definitely think we would have worked something out if she was still alive. I wish I had reached out to her again before she died. Everything got into the way. It's a good time to tell you that I lost my girl virginity to her."
"Shit," Eddie said, swallowing thickly. "You probably knew her more than Vickie and I did."
"She had a big heart, and she didn't deserve to be treated the way she had been. I always tried to give her a place to run to when she needed it, and my parents were gone. I should have tried harder," Steve whispered.
"It's not your fault, baby," Eddie said.
"You know, the one thing that I do know is that she wouldn't want us to be sad. She'd want us to live," Steve said.
"Well, hell, I think I can do that," Eddie said, his eyes filled with tears.
"Me too," Vickie grinned.
"Me three!" Robin exclaimed, and they all laughed.
Vickie sat down in front of the bed, right down in front of Robin. She smiled softly.
"So, what do you guys usually do here?" Vickie asked.
"Well, we listen to music, paint each other's nails, and reveal intimate details about each other," Robin said.
"I was the most recent initiate. Steve was the one before me. We both realized we were bisexual in this very room," Eddie said.
"Oh, I am, too!" Vickie exclaimed.
"Damn, that was quick," Eddie blinked.
"No, Eddie, I think she already knows," Steve replied.
"Oh, she knows! You know?" Eddie asked.
"I know," she giggled. "Huge fan of David Bowie."
"Who isn't?" Eddie grinned.
"And James Dean," Vickie replied.
"Really? James Dean?" Steve asked.
"Oh, yeah," she replied.
"Nice," Steve and Eddie said.
"So, what made you realize?" Eddie asked.
"Peanut butter," Vickie blurted out.
"Really?!" Robin squealed.
"Yeah," she blushed.
"I'm confused. Is Robin's nickname Peanut Butter?" Eddie asked.
Robin threw herself at Vickie, hugging her and inadvertently pinning her to the bed. Vickie laughed.
"It should be. . .my sweet little piece of peanut butter," Vickie said, and Robin laughed against her neck.
"I guess that makes you my sweet bread," Robin said and pulled back.
"Totally," Vickie whispered.
Robin leaned down and kissed her, effectively shutting them both up. Vickie giggled and sighed against her lips as she responded back to Robin. She ran her hands down Robin's back as Robin's lips moved against hers. Eddie and Steve coughed loudly causing them to break the kiss.
"Not in front of your fiancé, Robin," Eddie cackled.
"Asshole," Robin said and sat up to hit him with her pillow.
"So, what's the whole thing about you and Steve being engaged but not really engaged?" Vickie asked.
She watched in amusement as Robin, Eddie, and Steve explained the plan of stealing money from Steve's asshole father. Judging by the way they talked about the plan, they weren't going to get far.
"So, she already knows she's bisexual. She already has her nail painted. . .what else?" Eddie asked.
"Well, there is the matter of whether she wants to be invited to join the coven," Steve said.
"Oh! Are you guys wiccans?" Vickie asked.
"Well, that's what we like to call ourselves," Steve shrugged.
"What do I have to do?" Vickie asked seriously.
"You have to go down on Robin. She's the leader of this coven," Eddie said seriously.
"Lucky," Vickie grinned. "And okay!"
"Edward!" Robin yelled and hit him with a pillow.
"Ow! This is the thanks I get for helping out a friend," Eddie scowled.
"You don't have to do that, especially in front of these dinguses," Robin replied.
"Maybe when they're not around?" She asked hopefully.
"Definitely when they're not around," she agreed. "But you don't have to do that to get in."
"I'll do whatever you tell me, too, Robin," Vickie said, biting her lip.
Vickie found herself in the very same position that Eddie had been in not too long ago, kneeling in the middle of a flaming circle. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door, and Robert popped his head into the door. He set the fire extinguisher on Robin's desk.
"You forgot this," Robert told his daughter.
"Maybe you should just buy one for her room, eh, Bobert," Eddie said.
"You maybe onto something, Teddie," he replied. "Also, if you're going to add anyone else to your coven, sweetie, you should probably take it outside."
"Thanks, Daddy," Robin said.
"Don't wait up for us. Your mother and I are taking Eddie's uncle out to dinner," Robert said.
"Like a date?" Eddie teased.
"Exactly," Robert beamed and left the room.
Eddie and Robin shared looks of surprise.
"Uh, what are your parents' intentions with my uncle, Buckley?" Eddie asked.
"You're asking me?" Robin asked with a scoff. "Hell, if I know."
"I guess you guys should start calling each other cousins soon," Vickie teased.
"Hush, initiative," Eddie said, but cracked a smile.
"Okay, so just because Steve and Eddie took off their shirts doesn't mean - OH!" Robin squeaked.
Vickie smiled at her as she unbuttoned her shirt and slid it off her shoulders.
"What about my bra?" She asked.
"Again, your choice," Robin said, her voice getting higher and higher.
Vickie smiled as she kept eye contact with Robin. She unhooked her bra and dropped it on the floor.
"I don't want to get paint on my bra," she said. "It's new."
"No," Robin squeaked. "Wouldn't want that."
Robin knelt down in front of her and dipped the brush into the paint she was holding. She swallowed as she began spreading the paint all over Vickie's chest.
"Is that what I think it is?" Vickie asked in amusement.
"Well, we both have one so you tell me," Robin said.
Once she was done, she set the paint and brush aside. Steve handed her his potion.
"I figured that you'd want to do this one but you don't have to do what I did," Steve said.
Robin dapped the potion behind Vickie's ears and then on her neck before pausing to make a decision. Robin smiled before dapping the potion on her very own lips. She leaned forward and kissed Vickie, making sure to spread the potion over Vickie's lips. Robin gripped Vickie's hips, pulling her closer as they couldn't help but deepen the kiss. Robin pulled away quickly.
"Woah, head rush, was that the potion or you?" Vickie asked breathlessly.
"I think it might be both," Eddie grinned.
"What is that stuff?" Vickie asked.
"Oh, they won't tell me. I still haven't earned enough experience to level up," Eddie pouted.
"So, what does this all this do exactly?" Vickie asked.
"Oh, they don't know," Eddie said. "We're all just making the shit up as we go along."
"Fun," Vickie said.
Robin stood up, flicking paint off of her robes. She grabbed Eddie's and Steve's hands, standing in between them. They held out her notebook for her. She looked over at Vickie, her hair looking even more like fire in the light of the candles. She looked beautiful, her pale skin dotted with freckles like dozens of stars. Her bare breasts. . .Vickie's sparkling blue eyes gazed longingly at her. Robin cleared her throat and looked back at the notebook.
"Steve?" Robin asked in a panic.
"Yeah?"
"Shit, I forgot how to read Latin for a moment, but I'm good."
The three of them began chanting and getting louder with every line. Vickie could have sworn she saw the candles flicker. Finally, the chanting came to an end, and Vickie let Robin wipe the paint off of her. To her amusement as well as arousal, Robin focused quite a bit on her breasts and cleaned them rather thouroughly. Robin wrapped her up in Steve's robe and kissed her again. They let her play some music since they skipped that part, and then they settled on the floor by the open window.
"Thanks for letting me into your coven," Vickie said as she leaned back against Robin's chest.
"Thanks for wanting to join," Robin whispered.
"So, what other spells have you created?" Vickie asked,
"Well, that's pretty much it," Robin said.
"We haven't really thought that far ahead," Steve said.
"Well, maybe you guys can think of a curse for Steve's dad," Vickie said.
"A curse! Of course, why didn't I think of that?!" Eddie exclaimed.
"Because you're not as smart as my sweet bread," Robin teased.
Vickie smiled as Eddie started talking about it with Steve.
"Steve means a lot to you," Vickie said.
"Well, they both do now but Steve. . .yeah, he means so much to me," Robin replied.
"Hm, I've never really had a friendship like that or a whole lot of friends, really. I've always been too much for people," Vickie said.
"You could never be too much for me, Victoria," Robin said.
"I usually don't like it when people call me that but when it's coming from you. . .say it again," Vickie whispered, looking at her.
"Victoria. . ." Robin whispered, inches away from her lips.
"Is Robin short for anything?" Vickie asked.
"No."
"Oh."
Robin giggled and pressed her lips against Vickie's. God, she could kiss her forever. A breeze rolled through the opened window, gently caressing them as the moon shone down upon the ever expanding coven.
Part Four
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ladykailitha · 8 months ago
Text
Icarus Part 10
Just a little metal band Steve while the poll for what do with boy w/a bat and werewolf Steve is ongoing. Here if you want to vote.
Corroded Coffin is almost done with their album when the shit hits the fan and Eddie soothes away some of Steve's insecurities (and accidentally creates one more.)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9
****
Eddie was grateful that with the album ninety-eight percent done the label had released Jeff and him from their jail sentence so that they could go out and be people again. Brian had also been released for good behavior, but Dr. Owens suggested that Gareth stay away from the booze and parties for awhile, so Gareth had chosen to continue the exile willingly.
So to say he was excited to see Steve without all that shit hanging over his head. It was like a rare cool breeze against his skin on a hot summer’s day.
He got a table at the bar he told Steve to meet him at and ordered their drinks. He looked around the room as his knee began to bounce. He didn’t think Steve would stand him up. Steve wasn’t like that. But what if something happened? What the new studio they got was in New York or London or Chicago? How could he suggest that to Steve? He nee–
A warm hand touched his shoulder and all anxiety vanished as Steve murmured his hello.
Steve tapped the center of his forehead as he sat down. “What’s going on inside that head of yours? I can tell you’re spiraling, you’ve got this wide-eyed panicked look to you.”
Eddie rubbed his forehead and pouted. “Everything.”
Steve sighed and tenderly took his hand. He brought it up his lips and kissed each knuckle separately.
“The music business isn’t a forgiving industry at the best of times,” he murmured gently. “But it’s really rough on relationships. All kinds of relationships. Family, friends, lovers. But you’ve got me, okay?”
Eddie let out a low shuddering breath and then nodded.
“So tell me about your day,” he said with a slightly crooked smile. “You talk to Robin and your friends?”
Steve looked around the bar and nodded. “Robin says she’s working on the change of scenery, but she’s not sure how long it’s going to take. As for the other thing... we’re split down the middle. Me and Spence want June, while Simon and Shane want January.”
Eddie cocked his head to the side. “Why the split?”
“Spence and I have hope we can get the,” he lowered his voice, “album,” he raised his voice again, “done and want the time to finish it. While the other two are clawing at the walls, chomping at the bit, and just begging for a chance to travel again.”
Eddie sighed. “I’m sorry, Stevie. We’re pretty much into editing portion of the album and agreeing on the song order. But we can tour whenever. That’s the best part about being us. We can take six months to do five shows if we wanted to and our fans would eat it up. But if your guys want to wait until next summer, then we can do that. If your guys want to leave right after the New Year, fuck we can do that too.”
Steve sighed. “The record label is just pushing us to the limits and I think even Robin is beginning to crack. First there was the mix up with our contracts then this new thing, plus the touring and everything else. It’s a lot put on her and she’s starting to go mad.”
“They like to do that, unfortunately,” Eddie agreed. “I know Celeste is a good manager, but I think that The Fallen could use an actual agent, someone to take the load off of her back.”
Steve chewed his lip. “But won’t they have to be brought in on the secret if The Fallen were to get an agent?”
“Not if you don’t want them to,” Eddie said with a shrug. “A lot people use stage names they have to have contracts. So...” he waved his hand. “I’m assuming Celeste has control of all the fiddly business stuff for each member of the band?”
Steve shrugged. “Pretty much I guess.”
“They could work through Celeste if the band doesn’t want them to know,” Eddie said with another shrug. “But I recommend bringing them in. They can’t put out fires if they don’t know there’s more than just smoke.”
Steve rubbed his bottom lip. “Yeah...I don’t know. I’m not in the band so I couldn’t say for sure, I’m only a lowly peon.”
“Maybe, but they trust you,” Eddie scoffed. “Look I get that you don’t feel like you think the band can trust someone else with this, but agents are there to protect the band. They could lose all their business if they went around blabbing shit about their clients.”
“Maybe they should just get yours,” Steve joked. “Who is it?”
“Nancy Wheeler.”
The color drained from Steve’s face and he shook his head. “We’ll find someone else. I don’t–can’t trust her with a secret that big.”
Eddie tilted his head to side as he considered Steve’s odd reaction.
“Oh shit.”
Steve laughed weakly. “Yeah, oh shit.”
Nancy was another one of Hawkins High’s alums. Bright and powerful, smart and capable. Steve could see why Corroded Coffin had gone with her. Only he couldn’t trust her to hand him a knife, much less a secret as big as this one.
They had dated before she decided that he wasn’t ambitious enough for her and dumped him for Jonathan Byers. But not before cheating on him with the guy first.
Nancy had stabbed Steve in the back once, he had no desire to give her the ammunition to do it again.
Eddie paid for their drinks, and then took his hand to lead him outside. He pulled them into a small alleyway, barely big enough to fit them both, where they would have some privacy.
Eddie took Steve’s face in his hands and pressed their foreheads together, letting their breaths mingle. Steve’s fast and panicked, Eddie’s slow and calm.
Eventually Steve’s breaths matched Eddie’s and Eddie sealed their lips together.
“You’re okay, baby,” he soothed. “I’ve got you. You’re safe in my hands. You know that right?”
Steve gasped, taking in air as if coming up from the bottom of a vast lake and break the water for the first time.
Eddie combed his fingers through Steve’s hair as the other man fought to get his emotions under control.
Steve let out one more shuddering breath and Eddie smiled. “There you are. I was getting worried for a moment there, sweetheart.”
“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “Opening up our secret to other people is always terrifying, but Nancy? That’s monster level dread right there.”
Eddie continued to run his fingers through Steve’s hair. “I understand that, but do know what would happen if she did that? She wouldn’t just lose you as a client, she would lose her whole catalogue of clients. Corroded Coffin included. And not just because of who we are to each other. It would be such a serious breech of confidentiality that she would literally be scorch earth’ing her whole career.”
Steve let out a long breath. He knew that objectively. He knew that she also could just not take him as a client. Decide that The Fallen wasn’t worth the risk.
“What if we sent in Robin as Celeste Baptiste and see what she thinks?” Eddie suggested. “You know Robin’s instinct is killer. It’s why she’s such a good manager. Or even better, why doesn’t Robin meet with Chrissy and have Chrissy go over agents with her and see what Robin thinks? That okay?”
Steve smiled and brought their lips together. “You take such good care of me, Eds. I love you so much.”
“Back ‘atcha, pretty boy.”
Eddie’s phone rang and he picked it up.
“‘Ello?”
He pinched his nose and sighed. “Yeah. How long?”
There was brief pause as he listened to the other person on the line.
“I’ll check Mancharo’s and El Dios and you check out that strip of bars a few blocks south of the hotel.”
Again he listened, his brows furrowing deeper.
“Then I’ll just hit up El Dios and let you know if I find him,” Eddie muttered and then hung up.
“Fuck!”
Steve rubbed the wrinkles between Eddie’s nose until his pinched expression soften.
“That was Jeff,” Eddie murmured when he was calm enough. “Gareth stormed out of his therapy session today and hasn’t been seen since. They thought he was in his room, but when they checked, he was gone.”
Steve ran his hands up and down Eddie’s arms soothingly. “I’m sorry, Eds. Do you want me to go with you?”
Eddie wanted to answer yes, but if Gareth saw Steve he would absolutely pitch the biggest bitch fit outside of literal toddlers.
“Nah,” he murmured instead. “You’ve had a rough day. I’ll call you when I have news, okay?”
Steve nodded. “I love you, babe.”
“Back ‘atcha, darlin’.”
Steve sighed as he watched his boyfriend hail a cab.
He pulled out his phone and went right to Gareth’s Instagram. His location was off but Steve almost recognized the background.
He called Robin and sent her the picture. “We’ve been here before, right?”
“Uh...” she said. “Yeah! Dustin’s twenty-first! The Devil’s End!”
“If you weren’t a lesbian and I wasn’t dating Eddie I would kiss you on the mouth!”
“Eww...” she huffed. “You going to tell me what this is about?”
“Meet me at the apartment and I’ll fill you in.”
Then he sent off a brief text to Eddie.
-Try The Devil’s End. It’s where we had Dustin’s birthday bash.
The reply was almost immediate.
-God I love you.
-On it, babe.
Steve smiled to himself as he put his phone away. He couldn’t repay Eddie back for how kind he had been tonight, but at least he could help with this.
He just hoped Gareth was okay.
He knew that this business could and would chew up the best of people and spit them back out again without a single care.
Having a double life helped keep Steve and his friends humble. But he had no doubts in his mind that that could change at any moment.
Because if it wasn’t the business that would do the trick, it would be the isolation of not being able to tell anyone about what they really do for a living.
If he was being honest with himself, had it not been for Eddie figuring out who he was, Steve would have bet on himself being the first to fall to the Beast.
Both of his parents were raging alcoholics and he knew for awhile there when he was in middle school, his mom had gotten into some pretty heavy drugs.
It was why his high school days were so lonely. Because his dad was either hauling her off to rehab, or going on long trips where he would cheat on her and the cycle would begin again.
But now, with Eddie to keep him grounded?
His bet was on Simon. Hands down. The guy was very insecure outside of his alter ego Asmodeus.
If Steve only knew.
Trouble was brewing on the horizon, just not in the way Steve had thought it would go.
****
Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25
Tag List: @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03
@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie
@chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @danili666 @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach
@val-from-lawrence @goodolefashionedloverboi @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog
@justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @yikes-a-bee @bookbinderbitch
@bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon
@cinnamon-mushroomabomination @y4r3luv @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian
@thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @eyehartart @dawners
@thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95 @iamthehybrid @croatoan-like-its-hot @papergrenade
@cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars @ravenfrog @w1ll0wtr33
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strangersteddierthings · 1 year ago
Text
February 1
rating: G cw: none prompt: Love is letting someone take care of you
It wasn't a lesson Eddie learned easily, or all that willingly. No one had cared for him after his Mama had died. Not for a long time after.
He dad likes to pretend he'd tried. When Eddie was feeling generous, he'd even say he agreed. His parents were so in love it was almost sickening. Losing her must have broken the part of his Dad that knew how to love fully. He didn't turn mean, not like some dads did, but he definitely cared more about his next scheme than he did about the kid that looked too much like his Mama.
Wayne taught him that people who care about you take care of you. They take care of you when you're barely nine and have burned yourself on the stove twice this week, even if you think you should have learned after the first time. They take care of you when you've been caught stealing candy from Melvald's, and skipping school, and flunking senior year (and then doing that again), and even when people accuse you of murder.
Wayne has taught him that people that really, really love you are there when you need them, care for you when you need them.
And Eddie's heart aches that no one seems to have taught Steve that.
Eddie's trying. He steps in to help with "babysitting" duties, especially when Steve looks particularly run down. He started inserting himself into the Platonic Soulmate thing Steve and Robin have going because he wants to be an established replacement Temporary Soulmate while Robin's at college. (Being fair, this was Robin's suggestion. She's worried about how he'll be when she's not around to look after him.)
He's started hanging out with Steve without Robin, too. They get along well, it turns out. Eddie loves to talk and Steve loves to listen. But, more importantly, Eddie's good at getting Steve to talk. As a rule in general, Eddie isn't a good listener, but he could listen to Steve read him the phone book and never be bored. He tries to take an interest in Steve's hobbies. He doesn't have the hand/eye coordination for basketball, or the lungs for swimming laps, but he does have the energy to keep going even when he's bad at those things.
Steve seems to appreciate it, if the soft smiles he gives Eddie is any indication.
And it's not all up hill. Steve's got hangups that seem to crop up when he thinks he's failed at something. He's got a quick temper but it's never physical anger. He's only ever yelled at Eddie twice, and being fair, that first was deserved. Eddie's pushed too far, in his desire to help, not knowing the limit yet.
Eddie gets pissy, too, he's no saint, either.
There's been no fight they haven't gotten through, though.
But the lesson, the thing Wayne was really trying to teach him, comes when Steve gets sick.
No one but Robin has ever seen him sick. She's off at college now and it's just Eddie, fumbling to make soup and not dribble water down Steve's front while he holds the glass Steve is too weak to and Eddie forgot to get some straws at the store.
Steve tried to get him to leave only once. It was the third day in a row Eddie was there.
"You don't have to be here, you know," Steve had whispered, throat still feeling like he ate glass.
Eddie just met his eye and gave a small smile, "I do know."
Steve looks surprised, which is ridiculous, because he had to of known the answer Eddie would give. But then that surprise softens to a new look. Sappier, eyes a bit wetter, and Steve must not want him to see because his whole face scrunches with how quickly he shuts his eyes.
Eddie sets the sleeve of saltines down on the night stand and reached for Steve's hand. Just to give it a squeeze.
He finds he can't take his hand back when Steve tangles their fingers together and drags their joined hands to his face, where Steve rests his feverish forehead against Eddie's hand.
Steve teaches him that, yes, love is caring for someone. But sometimes, it's also letting someone else take care of you.
-
@steddielovemonth @i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems @skepsiss
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yall-batman-fanfic · 3 months ago
Text
The Billionaire's Wife | Bruce Wayne/Batman x  Magician!OC
Synopsis: After seeing an article that reduces her to some typical “billionaire’s wife” with a lot of sexism, offensive gender roles, and instigations of a gold-digger, Vivian finds her footing in the complex world of Gotham's elite and realizes that she doesn't always have to be the demure wife who smiles a lot, and she will show them that no one messes with her, especially in her own house.
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Vivian sighed as she read the headline on the online article that greeted her on her browser-news. MRS. VIVIAN PRYOR WAYNE, A LIVING RAGS TO RICHES STORY by some contributor to Gotham Gazette's online articles. She's been reading the article for some time now and has memorized every line with how much she's scrolled through it. At some point she just slammed her laptop shut because she felt like she was adding to the page's traffic which only boosts the press to write such stuff. 
God, she didn't understand why this was happening again. The first time it happened was when she was just dating Bruce. People started writing how chummy they were during the second take of her book launch, and how Bruce was spoiling her with gifts that she was living every woman's dream by going on yacht trips, michelin star restaurants, luxury brand gifts, and a handsome man that had a reputation for being a playboy. 
Opening her laptop again, Vivian groaned and read through the article to figure out how they even got that shot and how they thought that her day going shopping with Bruce and Tim, and having the man carry majority of the shopping bags full of clothes and school things for the new addition of Tim to their home became “Mrs. Vivian Wayne dragging billionaire Bruce Wayne and his credit card through Gotham's shopping district.”
First of all: She was Vivian Pryor-Wayne. She just sticks to “Vivian Pryor” for her books and her teaching, and other things but since marrying she was legally Vivian Pryor Wayne. She just uses Vivian Pryor for her professional name and for her books. She willingly added the name Wayne to her name to show her love. As a joke she would call Bruce “Mr. Pryor” which he doesn't mind at all.
Second: she does not drag Bruce and his credit cards around the shopping district. She has her own black credit cards, all of which she pays on her own hard-earned cash. 
Third: How did they not see Tim in that photo? The kid was right there with here. She was holding his hand! And they really should have blurred his face since he was a minor. She'll be talking to their lawyers about this later.
“Everything alright, Viv?” Tim came down, all dressed up for school.
“Yes!” Vivian slammed her laptop to hide the article. “Everything is fine. Why wouldn't it be fine?”
She didn't seem fine. Tim and Alfred exchanged looks before he took his place across from her and Alfred placed breakfast on the table. 
“Okay,” Tim took a bite of his toast. He watched her for a while, noticing how she drummed her fingers on the surface of her laptop and the contemplative look on her face, that looked like she was planning a murder. Tim would know. He's been working with Batman for a while now as Robin, and before that he's been a really good detective with learning who Batman and Robin really were. “Is it about the thing?”
“What thing?”
Tim gave her a sympathetic look. “We all know that's not real… it's just the press making gossip to give people to talk about.”
“I don't even know what you're talking about,” Vivian drank her coffee.
Tim sighed. What is it with the people in Wayne Manor? It seems stubbornness and pride were a common denominator with all of them. “I saw the article, Viv.”
Vivian was quiet for a time, eating her jam on toast before asking, “Does Bruce, know?”
“The fact that you asked, and the fact that he's not here telling this yourself means he doesn't.”
Vivian sighed and looked at him with a small smile, “Save the detective work after school, okay?”
Tim grinned and shrugged. “It's second nature by now. But seriously, Viv, we all know it's not true. I was there, remember? And I've been living here for a while now to know that what you and Bruce have is real and special.”
Vivian got up and walked around the table and embraced him from behind, “Thanks, Timmy.”
“Anytime, Vivian,” Tim smiled.
“You're heading to work now?” Bruce entered the room all dressed for work.
“I am,” Vivian squeezed Tim's shoulder, a message to not mention anything to Bruce. 
“This early?” Bruce slightly frowned. He got up quite late and wasn't able to have breakfast with her.
“We already spent enough time earlier before I got out of bed to get ready,” she kissed his cheek. “I'll make it up to you when I drop by your office after work for our three-o'clock meeting for the Wayne Foundation event.”
“Alright,” Bruce took her hand just as she was going to leave with her bag, and pulled her down for a kiss. Tim rolled his eyes and focused on his breakfast, while Alfred just focused on packing her lunch and extra coffee. After tasting the coffee that Gotham University had in their campus lounge, he started packing her a thermos of coffee that would satisfy her for the day. “Have fun at work.”
“I will! You too – and Tim, have fun at school!”
After thanking Alfred for the packed lunch and coffee, and the discreet way of saying, “all will be well,”, Vivian left. It was only when they were sure she won't be coming back for something that Bruce spoke, asking, “What's wrong?”
“As always, Sir, nothing gets past you,” said Alfred.
“What's wrong? Vivian didn't even finish her breakfast,” Bruce pointed out. She always cleans her plate before leaving. 
“Nor did she steal from the cookie jar before leaving,” Tim added.
“Nor did she give you as much attention as you required before going to the office,” Alfred jests.
Bruce only looked at the two, waiting for an answer. Alfred was a tough nut to crack, but Tim…
While Tim would put the mission first and Bruce trusts him with Batman's identity – he is Robin now after all – he can't always hide something from Bruce when it comes to Vivian. Especially when placed in a hotseat. But later, as he grows older and becomes more independent, he starts to learn how to keep things from Bruce regarding Vivian. As long as it wasn't life threatening. 
“There was an article online,” Tim sighed. “Sorry, Alfred, I know I wasn't supposed to but…”
“Not to worry, Master Timothy. It takes more than just fighting crime in a bird costume to stand up to your commanding officer. You'll one day learn that sometimes it's alright to give them a good smack.”
“Is that what you did when you served?”
“Tim,” Bruce told him to continue. 
“It's an article on Gotham Gazette – you know those anonymous writers they have to write some tabloid bullsh –”
“Master Timothy!”
“Sorry, Alfred — but you get the point.”
“What's this article about?” Bruce opened his laptop that he had beside him to check. 
“You'll know when you see it.”
And he did. The moment Bruce opened the Gotham Gazette's website. While it was for supposed to be showing current news on Gotham, such as the latest bank robbery by Two-Face which Batman and Robin stopped, or some new thing the new District Attorney was going on about, the headlining article on the homepage was the photo of them three with the photo's caption making him frown. 
Is that what Gotham was painting a picture of his wife? Some gold digger? Bruce thought as he read the article. It infuriated him that they were making such stories based off of stone shots, especially when Vivian has proven so many times that she was a hard working woman, that she was more than just a “billionaire's wife”. The title itself was offensive since she was more than just Bruce Wayne's wife. Before they married — hell, before they dated she was already building her name in her profession. She got a couple of Doctorates under her belt, wrote books and studies, and has contributed works into Gotham City's historical archives. She was awarded by the mayor for her works that depict Gothams City's history! Aside from that she's been an active contributor to Wayne Foundation charities, both the Thomas Wayne Foundation and the Martha Wayne Foundation. A part of her profit from the books she gives to charities to help Gotham City.
“I'm heading to work. Alfred, I'll leave Tim with you,” said Bruce as he got up.
“Very well, Sir,” Alfred sighed as Bruce left with his things and drove off. “I know now who I'm not telling where I hid the biscuit jar next time nor the shotgun.”
Tim sighed. “Oh brother.”
~*~
Walking through Wayne Enterprises’ building, Vivian tried her hardest to ignore the looks she was getting from some of the staff walking about. She would still greet them with a smile and a “hello”, but after that she would try not to notice the look on their faces that says they saw the article. Maybe she should have just taken the stairs than go through the long walk to the elevator. She'd gladly just open a portal to the floor itself then go through this long walk. But it would be too suspicious if she were found to be on the floor so suddenly. 
“Mrs. Wayne!” One of the members of the board appeared. “Vivian, heading up?”
Vivian kept the smile, “Hi William. Yes, I'm going to see Bruce.”
“Special visit?” He gave a suggestive look.
“No. We have a meeting with the Wayne Foundation for the charity event this coming Friday.”
“Is that so?”
She hoped that was the end of it or that the elevator would end their talk but William hopped into the elevator just as she was going to press the doors to close. William Earle was one of the people Vivian didn't like that much that was part of Wayne Enterprises’ board. Since she started coming over he would always make rude comments, such as, “you should come over more and loosen up Bruce. I'll be sure to fill in on some of his meetings.” She hasn't told Bruce about William Earle's little conversation starters but Bruce was well aware of Vivian's dislike towards the man.
“By the way, I saw the article on the Gazette,” said William.
“Did you now?”
“I don't really see the problem, I mean come on. Every married man knows this – happy wife, happy life.” He laughed.
Vivian didn't laugh. Is that what they all think of her in Wayne Enterprise?
“Professor Pryor!” Lucius entered the elevator and stood between her and William, to her delight.
“Lucius, wonderful to see you,” Vivian greeted him sincerely.
“Heading to the Wayne Foundation meeting?”
“I am.”
The elevator finally closed and they were heading up. 
“Then I guess we're heading the same way then,” Lucius offered his arm to her.
Vivian laughed lightly and wrapped her arm with the man's. “Good thing you are, I don't think I'll have much patience in these things. I’m all in for doing but planning the whole thing, I just get lost.”
“That's what we're here for, Professor Pryor. You and Mr. Wayne dream it, and we'll do the grunt work on making it happen.”
“I promise to help out as much as I can, Lucius.”
“Your expertise and your presence alone in those events are more than enough. And I believe you've provided the list of collectors who are looking to sell — I never knew you were well acquainted with Rossi.”
“Rossi?” William tried to chime in.
“Sebastian Rossi – he's an Italian artist whose paintings have agreed to put some of his private works to auction. A fixed portion, of course, will go to him, but the rest will be put in the Wayne Foundation.”
“It just so happens Sebastian Rossi is a professor in art history as well, and I went to his lectures when I was still in uni.”
“Did you now?” Lucius said. “Well, Mr. Wayne does have his network in Gotham's elite and powerful, and sciences, but you Professor brings the classics to our doorstep.”
“Somebody has to keep Wayne Enterprise from becoming some robotic corporation.”
They arrived at their floor, and Vivian and Lucius said goodbye to William as they went to Bruce's office.
“Saved your behind from an awkward elevator ride, didn't I Professor?” Lucius teased.
“Yes, and you are my hero today, Lucius,” Vivian sighed. “I'm sure you've seen the article on the Gazette?”
“Everyone has. It's probably one of the reasons why Bruce is a little distracted today at our nine-o'clock. Don't worry, your husband might have his mind preoccupied but he still manages to operate well.”
Vivian sighed. “I am trying to keep an upbeat attitude.”
“I'm sure the charity event will change some perspectives in the coming future.”
“I hope so.”
Entering Bruce's office, they saw the man deep in work while taking a call on his bluetooth earpiece. The moment they opened the door, he told the person at the other line that he'll call them back later then stood to greet Lucius and Vivian.
“Lucius,” Bruce said to the man and then turned to Vivian and kissed her cheek, “Viv, I guess it's time for the meeting.”
“Yes, it is,” Vivian told him.
“But Marge usually takes her time with preparing our coffee. I'll head over to make sure everything is alright. You can come after ten minutes, Mr. Wayne, Professor Pryor,” Lucius said and left the room.
As soon as the door closed, Vivian turned to Bruce and said, “Marge doesn’t take too much time with preparing coffee.”
“No, she does not. But I appreciate Lucius’ efforts in giving us some time alone. It's been a busy week.”
“Both in your day job and night job,” Vivian placed her bag on the seat and leaned back on his desk. Bruce stood before her and removed the tie that's keeping her hair to a bun, then massaged her scalp.
“That feels nice,” she hummed. “How's your day?”
“I should be asking you that.”
“You saw.”
“You should have told me.”
“I just don't want to think more about it. But going through that procession just to get to the elevator didn't help. William Earle didn't help either. Is that what I'm reduced to? A wife you got to please so I'd drop by your office to give you head before a meeting?”
Bruce frowned. “And you said you weren't thinking about it too much,” he leaned down and placed each of his hands on the table to cage her there. “Hey… for better and for worse, remember?” Vivian smiled and pressed her forehead on his. “And your shit is my shit too.” She laughed. 
“Why did we even add that to our vows?”
“It was your idea, and I think it's romantic. But you get the gist.”
“Of course, it was my idea,” Vivian brushed her nose against his and closed her eyes. “I miss the times we sneak around and act like we're good at it.”
“You're not just my wife Vivian, and nor are you just someone I please to get a good fuck. You're my partner in everything. Your achievements are your own and you’ve made a name for yourself in your field, and I am proud of you for it. And you put up with me and the demands of my other life.”
Vivian smiled, she slung her arms around his neck and enjoyed his company. “I should get an award for that. You don't see anyone else who supports their husband and their nightly hobbies of running around in a costume. Let alone a bat costume. And also consulting him and his friends on their Dungeons and Dragons campaigns.”
Bruce chuckled. “I'll get you a plaque for it.”
The door of his office opened and Bruce had to remove himself from his wife, displeased, to face them. It was William Earle. 
“Whoah, didn't mean to walk-in on you both like that,” he joked.
Vivian rolled her eyes, luckily Bruce was big enough to hide her from William's view.
“Will, what brings you here?” Bruce asked.
“Lucius has everyone in the conference room now.”
“But you're not in that meeting.”
He wasn't, but William Earle has always been a suckup.
William shrugged, “Saw them ready for you and thought why not save Marge the hassle of walking all the way here to tell you, you know.”
“Thanks, William,” Vivian got off the table and took her bag. “We'll head there now.”
Taking Bruce's offer of his arm, Vivian and him left the office and went straight to the meeting.
~*~
Veronica Vreeland was one of the few people that Vivian would call a real friend of Bruce Wayne. She remembered meeting the woman after Bruce said his friend demanded they have a double date with her now ex-husband. It was fun getting to know Veronica, and while the two of them were complete opposites, they found some common ground that became the foundation of their friendship. 
Which was dress shopping.
Vivian always loved clothes. She remembered going to the shopping district in Liverpool with her mother and going through the thrift shops to find clothes she liked for a cheap price, then Madeline would fix them up or alter them to fit her preference. For a time she learned how to use a sewing machine just to alter her existing clothes to styles she always wanted, and she did the same for her siblings when they started to become picky with their clothes. 
Oliver was more of the tweed jackets and white shirts and trousers.
Olivia liked rock and roll.
Vivian preferred to sew Olivia's clothes since it was more ripped than actually attached. 
When she got a job, the first paycheck she got, Vivian bought a really nice blazer – not from a thrift shop but a new one that fits her perfectly. It served her for years into her profession until it no longer fits. Later, she started buying clothes that would fit her profession and have that Dan Brown's Robert Langdon aesthetic.
Then she started seeing Bruce Wayne who invited her to galas and fancy dinners, and charity events, and press runways, and she had to look into more appropriate clothes. Luckily, her first gala event as Bruce’s date happened after she met Veronica Vreeland, and the woman invited her to go dress shopping before the event, and got a really nice dress that – in her words – “would have Bruce begging they head home before they even get to the venue.”
Now, here they were again, looking through luxury brand stores for a dress for the upcoming charity auction they were hosting at Wayne Manor. It was a Saturday which meant Tim had time to go through cases in the cave than be a kid, which had Vivian dragging him through their shopping with a video game to play with. 
“You are probably the only kid who I will ever enable to play video games instead of studying,” she told him as she handed him a video game and told him to sit at the bench.
“Or I could just play video games at home,” Tim said.
“Yeah, with Alfred coordinating with the caterer, Bruce at work, and me here, so you're unsupervised and can go to the basement to study? No.”
Tim groaned and took the game. 
Now standing before the mirrors trying out the dress that Veronica picked out, she did a good turn to see how it looked on her. Before she could give her opinion, Veronica told their assistant for the day, “No. She's a world renowned professor in symbology and iconography – in basic terms she's damn smart. Not eye-candy. She's the host for the event, not the hubby's accessory.”
“Of course, we'll find something that might interest us.”
After changing out of the dress and back to the robe that was provided, Vivian laid on the couch beside Veronica and sighed. On cue, the woman handed her a glass of champagne and a slice of cake. 
“Thanks for that,” Vivian said.
“No problem,” Veronica took Vivian's legs and had them on her lap, making the latter laugh. “I hate it when they always choose the dresses my grandmother would wear or whatever Rebecca Fallbrook as in her closet.”
“Which is?”
“The most clothing you'll see on her is probably the Princess Jasmine costume she wore on that New Year's Eve party. And I mean the red Princess Jasmine costume.”
They both laughed at the memory and drank their champagne. 
“I miss shopping with you, Ronie,” Vivian sighed. 
“Well, you've been busy.”
“And you've been on so many honeymoons now that I rarely see you in the country.”
Veronica smirked. “Those honeymoons got you that fantastic fur coat from St. Petersburg and that beautiful coat from Italy, mind you. So, what's up, Vivian Pryor-Wayne? Four years into the marriage… how's living with Gotham's snobs?”
A long and dragging sight. “I miss not being labeled an alcoholic whenever I order beer at ten in the morning. I also miss not seeing my face on the headlines of some tabloid being called as a gold digger.”
Veronica gave her a sympathetic look. “Gotham press and Gotham's socialite are not that welcoming to new money – or those who marry into its circle. They know they can't do anything to you because of Bruce, so they pay the media to do the shaming.”
“I miss Liverpool. There people can call each other wankers and get on with their day. None of this backstabbing shit.”
“Did you stab them when they're looking?”
“Usually.”
Veronica laughed. “If only Gotham is like your little neighborhood in Liverpool… but I hope this doesn't get between you and Bruce though.”
“It doesn't. He has been extra loving lately, and while I enjoy his morning greetings,” Tim mimicked someone vomiting, “I just want this to die down. I mean, I enjoy the gesture but he can't always go on his knees just to cheer me up, right?”
“VIVIAN!” Tim covered his ears with pillows.
“What do you expect? It's Bruce, he likes to please people. But seriously, Viv. Anything you need, I'm here — even if it means trashing someone's car to let out some steam… say Rebecca Fallbrook? Listen, I think this is just going out because you're hosting this event for the Wayne Foundation, and people are not happy that you've been getting good media publicity from the Daily Planet and the press in general. I can smell a rich-man's bribe anywhere.”
Vivian sighed and pulled Tim so she could mess with his hair. It always calms her to do that with her boys. And Tim doesn't mind, it was a free head-massage.
Before Vivian could say anything, the store assistants came back with some outfits that she would like. On in particular caught her eye, and both her and Veronica pointed at it and said, “that one.”
Later that day, a photo went around Gotham Gazette’s page and social platforms with an article that highlights her and Veronica, mentioning that she was once again cashing in Bruce's money with luxury clothes. Vivian slammed her laptop shut and counted the days until the auction. Once that's done all of this would be over… until the next event.
~*~
The grand hall was packed with Gotham's socialite, the press, and guests who show expertise on the pieces that Sebastian has finally opened up to sell. As everyone was socializing downstairs, Vivian watched from the railing as she tried to look for someone she knew so she could run to them immediately and not get caught in all the whole small talk. She saw Veronica there but she was conversing with Suzie Vanaver and Heather Earle, who were not the most welcoming in their little circle. Veronica called them snobs and would rather have champagne at the corner but she was forced by her father to interact with them and be a “good girl” for the evening. And not hunting for husband #4.
“You look like you're playing that crane game we went to with Ms. Vreeland the other day,” Tim said to her as he came out with Bruce. Both wearing matching tuxes that complimented her white jumpsuit. 
“Don't you look handsome,” she told Tim. “I saw Bernard down there, why don't you save him from getting his cheeks pinched by old ladies.”
“You don’t have to bribe a friend so I can give you both some alone time you know,” Tim snickered and left.
Alone, Bruce took Vivian's hand that's been fiddling with Jason's locket and smiled sadly. Even in death, Vivian still finds comfort with Jason's memory. He took her hand and kissed the wedding band and her engagement ring before kissing her lips. 
“You look fantastic,” he told her.
“I’m a complete mess,” she sighed. “It's weird how I know everyone in this room, I can smile and talk to them but I feel utterly alone.”
“But you're not,” Bruce told her. His eyes glanced over her should an the crowd as he said, “and I think you'll be happy to see someone in this crowd right now.” He had her turn around to see.
Waving frantically from below, where he gained looks from the other guests, Sebastian Rossi called out to Vivian with a grin, “Bella! Vivian!” Rossi called for her with his thick Italian accent.
Vivian laughed and waved at him, “Professore Rossi!”
Sebastian Rossi gestured for her to come down. Taking Bruce's hand, they both went to greet the artist who was accompanied by some of her colleagues who were apologizing to the others he surprised with his loud entrance.
“Professore Rossi,” Vivian greeted him with a kiss on both cheeks. “How was the flight?” She asked in Italian.
“Professor Vivian Pryor – eh!” Sebastian caught himself, “Professor Vivian Pryor-Wayne, I hear now.”
“Yes,” she then switched to English as she introduced Bruce. “My husband, Bruce Wayne.”
“The lucky man,” Rossi laughed as she shook Bruce's hand.
“Indeed. It's nice to meet you as an artist and as Vivian's good friends. How was the flight?”
“Very appreciated – I think I enjoyed it too much in first class. Now, I heard you have adopted a few boys. I brought presents,” he took out three wrapped boxes from his bag. “I remember reading about it in our emails. The youngest, where is he?”
Bruce called for Tim from the snackbar and had him come over. 
“Ah, you are Tim. Yes?”
“Yeah,” Tim said.
“For you. Vivian said that you liked puzzles, so I got you something to get you off the video games.”
Tim snickered and turned to Vivian. “Look at that, an intellectual game that a normal kid could play that’s not a video game. Thank you, Professor Rossi.”
Rossi patted him on the head – messing up his hair – and had him returning to where he was finishing all the snacks with Bernard. “Now, Richard?”
“Dick's not –”
“Here, I am,” Dick crossed the crowd, all dressed up for the night. “Bruce said it was your event, I can't miss that.”
Vivian smiled and thanked him. “I'm glad you're here, kiddo.”
“Here, my boy. I did the math – mind you I am not a mathematician so I made a good guess on your age. So, here. From Tuscany – Italy's wine region.”
“Thank you… hold on, when you said bad in math, how old did you think I was?”
Rossi shrugged. “Sixteen?”
“He'd be underage. He won't be allowed to drink then,” said Bruce.
Rossi scoffed. “I've been drinking wine since I was Timothy's age.”
“An exaggeration,” Vivian reassured the people around them.
“But thanks,” Dick said. 
“Now. I know that Jason is gone, but he will always be here with you. Here, for you and Mr. Wayne. It is a replica of the Argo — you know, Jason and the Argonauts.”
“Thank you, Professor. This means so much…” she gestured for Alfred to come and the butler approached them and held out his hand to take the gift.
“I'll put this in his old room,” he told her.
“Thank you, Alfred,” Vivian said before he left. “This means so much, Professor –”
“There is more.”
“Please, no more. You have already given so much.”
“No, no! For my favorite student – do not tell the others that –”
“We're right here,” said Kirk. “We were also your students during our semester in Italy.”
“— I made you something for your wedding. I was supposed to give it to you during the celebration but I ran out of time. I can't give it to you now but I had it transported here along with my other works.”
“Please don't tell me Sebastian Rossi just made us a painting as a wedding gift,” whispered Bruce.
“I think he did.”
“And you do know that a Rossi costs about at least six million dollars in the market, right?”
“I know,” Vivian whispered. “And I thought getting him to pour me wine is an honor enough.”
“Here,” Rossi showed the catalog, specifically at the painting. “For your personal collection.”
“Thank you, Professor Rossi,” Vivian said. “This means so much.”
“Specifically around six million dollars,” Dick whispered to Bruce. “Did this add another zero into your joint account?”
“It did,” Bruce answered.
“Now, I shall leave you to your event,” Rossi said.
“No, you are the guest of honor, I would be a rude host to leave you just like that,” Vivian had her arm around her old friend and brought him around to meet Lucius Fox and the others.
The auction went smoothly with Vivian giving an opening speech to discuss more about Rossi's works, and a few words from the artist himself, then everyone was bidding to get a hold on one of Italy's rising artists whose paintings cost just keeps getting bigger and bigger. It ended when Bruce himself purchased a painting called Aphrodite Urania Seducing Ares where the goddess is depicted to be having red hair and is naked as she bathed in sea water, and at the side the god of war was watching with lustful eyes.
“I think we both know why Bruce bought that painting,” Dick said as he removed his hand off of Tim and Bernard's eyes when the photo of the painting was no longer on display.
“You don't say? You think he'll put it in their bedroom?” Tim muttered.
“I know he will.”
With the auction finished, people enjoyed the afterparty and got to know the artist who they just made very rich. As Rossi spoke with Bruce and the others, Vivian was whisked away by Veronica who teased her about the last painting which Bruce bought.
“That wasn't me,” Vivian told her. “Okay, technically that wasn't me, it was a model, but Rossi admitted he made the hair red on purpose because he really liked my red hair.”
Veronica laughed. “Tell me where Bruce is going to put it, alright?”
“Please don't tease him about it.”
“Viv, that's what friends are for. We tease you but with good intentions. It keeps you grounded.”
“Thank you for coming tonight, Ronnie. And for buying that piece,” Vivian sighed. “I don't know how I would have gotten through this night without you.”
“You would have. I barely talked to you, Viv.”
“Well, you kept the hoard from getting me tonight.”
Veronica laughed. “That's what I do… congratulations, Vivian. Now, go and mingle with the other rich people in Gotham. Remember, it's the connections that give you power.”
“I will,” Vivian said and went to the direction of some of the families who bought a piece from tonight. “Mr. Vanaver, Mr. Fallbrook, I'm glad that you're enjoying the evening.”
“Mrs. Wayne, good to see you,” Patrick Vanaver said.
“I hope you're happy with your purchases for tonight.”
“Not as happy as Wayne, though,” Oscar Lawford snickered. “He got the best one there is. Right, Viv?”
Vivian breathed through her nose and reminded herself about the network and the image she needed to keep. “I remember when Professor Rossi was still halfway through painting it – he was having trouble on Aphrodite's hair and then one day he just made it red to make her stand out.”
“Is that right? He just suddenly decided to make the goddess of love and sex have red-hair, huh?” Said Patrick. Vivian frowned. “You know, Professor, we really thought you were one of those quiet type of girls. We never thought you to be well acquainted with big people.”
Vivian forced a smile. “It's part of the job. Traveling, meeting people.”
“You know, I'm a painter myself, not as good as Professor Mario over there, but I can do a decent piece. How about you model for me on a piece” said Patrick.
“Excuse me?” Vivian's brows furrowed. 
“Come on now, Viv. It's just a joke,” said Oscar Lawford.
“You know, I can understand why Bruce wanted that painting. I can see it now.”
Vivian looked at him for a moment then did something that certainly would stick to every Gothamite in this event. She took Patrick Vanaver and Oscar Lawford's drinks and handed them to the nearest server on sight. Before they could question what she was doing, she asked the same man to tell the person at the coats and the valet to get Mr. Vanaver and Mr. Lawford's coats.
“What the hell, Viv?” Oscar told her.
“Don't Viv me. It's either Pryor or Mrs. Pryor-Wayne. While I do appreciate your attendance and we appreciate your donation to the cause, I would humbly ask for you to get out of my house.”
Silence came to the room and everyone was looking Vivian.
“Viv, come on it's a joke!” Oscar scoffed.
“Professor Pryor, the valet are now bringing Mr. Lawford and Mr. Vanaver's vehicles to the front, Ma'am,” Alfred came to her side. “Your coats will be waiting for you at the front,” he told the two men.
“What the – Wayne, are you hearing this right now?” Patrick turned to Bruce who was marching up to their space.
Bruce went to Vivian's side and only looked at the two men, joining him were Dick and Tim who looked at them with menacing glares. “Vivian is the Mistress of Wayne Manor, Patrick. She runs this house. What she says goes. I'm sure the valet already has your cars at the front. And don't worry about Suzie and Heather, they can stay. We'll personally secure their mode of transportation home.”
“Bruce, you can't be serious!” Oscar scoffed.
“Trust me. I am. And Oscar, Patrick,” Bruce towered over them and said in a threatening tone, “Insult my wife again and I swear… it will be the last. Don't think I didn't hear what you said to her along with the anonymous writer you have contacted in the Gazette.”
Vivian smirked. “We thank you for your donation to the Wayne Foundation, gentlemen. And we'll make sure that your paintings will reach your homes securely.”
“Now,” Dick spoke. “Get out.”
The two men turned to their wives and told them to come along, and they did, both embarrassed with what had happened. As soon as they were in their cars, Tim and Bernard ran up to the front with a couple of tomatoes – which Vivian magically conjured discreetly from the kitchen and handed to the boys – and threw it at the two men's windshields. The boys laughed and high-fived as the men started cursing and wiping the tomatoes using their expensive scarves.
“Are you alright, my love?” Bruce asked Vivian.
“Yes,” Vivian sighed. “I am now – a lot better since last week.” Since that article she saw.
“Scotch, neat, Ma'am,” Alfred handed Vivian her favorite drink.
“Thank you, Alfred. I can always count on you for this. And,” she turned to Bruce, smiling, “I can always count on you to have my back.”
“Partners, remember?” Bruce leaned down and kissed her softly.
“Well,” Veronica approached them. “Demure and commanding, I am proud of you, Vivian. The hulking husband is a nice touch, too, Bruce.”
“Ronnie,” Bruce greeted her. 
“What do you think is going to happen after that?” Vivian asked them. 
“Public shaming, give the Vanavers and the Lawfords a couple of days out of the sun – maybe a vacation to their villas – and they'll be back. Scarred and won't dare to come near you, but still close enough to be in the inner circles of Gotham's socialite,” Veronica answered.
“That's nice to hear,” said Vivian.
“Congratulations, Professor Pryor, you now know the ways on how to say ‘fuck you’ like a snobbish Gotham elite,” Veronica clinked her wine glass with Vivian's scotch. 
Tim and Bernard returned, both grinning from ear to ear.
“We got them good,” Tim said.
Vivian knelt down and kiss his cheek. “Thanks, detective.”
“Vivian!” Tim groaned and tried to push her away but couldn't as she had a good hold, making Bernard laugh at him.
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lorbanery · 6 months ago
Text
I just need to talk about Dick Grayson and Jon Kent's relationship for a minute
Just 'cause I keep seeing people file it under the typical Super-Bats dichotomy (Bruce and Clark, Tim and Kon, Jason and Bizarro, Damian and Jon)
BUT
Have you considered: Dick is the Superman to Jon's Robin?
Just
Just listen
There's the obvious justification that's just "Dick is much older than Jon", sure. But there's more nuance here.
Dick is different people to different generations of heroes.
To his own generation he's the responsible best friend everyone knows they can rely on, but also know better than to think of him as superhuman because they've all seen him at his worst (and by worst I don't just mean "most depressed" I mean most "shouting at his four year old niece" bitchy asshole).
I'm skipping Jason because he doesn't have his own generation he just kind of awkwardly pilfers people from Dick's and Tim's until they'd willingly shank Batman for him.
To Tim's generation he's a legend who they quickly realized is actually almost as out-of-touch as the first gen heroes. They're like a big queer friend group and he's the one kid's kind of square straight older brother. He's cool, he's supportive, he's always willing to drive them places, covers for them when they ditch class or are out past curfew, and he WILL throw down with anyone's homophobic parents; but he always has a lecture ready about underage drinking and while he laughs along with their "I'm too gay for this" jokes, you can tell he doesn't really get them. At least he's always excited for Pride. He buys himself a new "ally" shirt every year.
(Disclaimer: Previous paragraph was meant merely as a demonstrative metaphor and not to express any definitive opinion on Dick Grayson's sexuality. @ DC Comics let that boy be bi)
But to Damian's generation? Dick Grayson is a parental figure. When Damian and Jon were first starting out their superhero careers, Dick was not only acting as Batman, but as Damian's guardian, two roles most people, in-universe, expected him to be in permanently. And for Jon Dick wasn't just his friend's dad; when Clark had to leave Earth, forcing Jon to step into the role of Superman, and Jon expressed concern over being up to the job, Clark specifically told Jon to seek out Dick.
Because Jon, of course, was a teenager facing down not only the responsibility of being a superhero, but of bearing the weight of being a famous figure of hope. Something Dick had already done as the first Robin, and had helped at least a little two other teenagers navigate.
Now, I'm going to take a little tangent here to explain why Dick is the Clark in this situation.
When we talk about Dick's tragic backstory, a lot of little details change from retelling to retelling; but the one thing that stays consistent is the fact that Bruce took him in because Dick reminded him of himself. They both watched their parents get murdered at a young age (sometimes the exact same age, depending on the retelling); neither of them had any immediate family to take them in; both of them were only children who suddenly found themselves with the burden of being the sole carrier of their family's significant legacy. But that's pretty much where the similarities end.
Bruce was raised in a wealthy family, in a mansion in a major metropolitan city where his family had deep roots all the way back to its founding. Dick was raised by a very much working class family that lived out of a trailer/wagon/train most of, if not the entire year, traveling all across the country and/or globe. If they had a permanent residence anywhere, it was probably one of the suburbs around Tampa that were historically the off-season homes for circus performers (at least that's where I would put it).
Bruce was able to stay in his childhood home with a guardian who'd known him his whole life, who knew his family history and legacy. He was able to step into his family's legacy when he grew up and even expand it well beyond what his parents did.
Dick had to leave not only the circus he grew up in, he had to leave behind the entire community and culture and ended up being raised in a world that was completely different from it. Raised by a man who certainly respected his family and their history, but didn't know much about it or what their hopes and expectations had been for Dick.
While the path that eventually led him to becoming Batman began, for Bruce, that night when his parents were murdered, he didn't actually start seriously working towards and mentally taking on that responsibility until he was much older. In some cases he was in high school, in some not until after he graduated. But he taught himself and learned how to be a hero as an adult. He was in his twenties when he was taking the responsibility of other people's lives onto his own shoulders; when he was learning how to be most effective; when he was learning in real time the consequences of doing something wrong.
Dick started training and/or working as Robin the moment he became a permanent member of the Wayne household. He was anywhere between roughly 8 and 16, depending on the retelling, but in every version he was very a child or teenager taking on that responsibility of other people's lives, learning in real time the consequences of doing something wrong. He was trying to navigate school and a social life while feeling that responsibility for other people's safety and having this huge secret he couldn't talk about. He was given these special skills from his birth family's legacy that his adoptive parent warned him to hide from people lest they guess his secret. He had this overdeveloped strength and fighting skills that meant he had to consciously hold back when he fought bullies in school.
But while that doesn't describe Bruce, it does describe someone else in Dick's life: Clark. He lost his parents at a very young age leading him to be raised in a completely different culture and world by his adoptive parents. They respected his birth family and their culture, but knew nothing about them. They were a working class family, who lived in a small town. He developed his powers when he was just a kid. They were a part of his family legacy that his adoptive parents encouraged him to hide to keep his secret. They created a sense of responsibility in him at a young age to use them to help and protect people. They made it so that he had to hold back when he fought bullies in school. He had to learn how to navigate school and a social life while feeling that responsibility, while having this huge secret, and learning the consequences of doing something wrong when he was trying to protect people.
Clark related to Dick as a kid/teenager in ways that Bruce never really could. Clark understood a lot of the struggles Dick was facing, the weight on his shoulders. That's one of the many reasons he was, typically, very friendly and supportive of Dick; why he treated him as a respected colleague ; why he was always happy to spend time with and chat with Dick, even when Bruce wasn't around. He became a second trusted mentor to Dick, someone who understood what it was like to dedicate your entire life to protecting people; to spending your entire life as someone potentially dangerous to normal people; to being removed from your family legacy and their culture and taking up that of your adoptive family instead.
That's why, when Dick finds himself in situations where his life is drastically changing, one of his first stops is always Metropolis. That's why, when his life drastically changes and he doesn't come to Metropolis, Clark comes to check in on him. And Clark doesn't always have good advice to share to help Dick find his way. But he has enough similar life experience that it makes him pretty much the only mentor figure in Dick's life that Dick can really talk to who best understands him and his unique struggles.
Back to Jon.
When Jon was forced to become Superman, he was worried about how to be Superman. How to take on that kind of responsibility when he was so young. Clark sent him to Dick not just because he had a unique perspective on what Superman needs to be as someone who's been a fan, a colleague, and a friend; not just because he could teach Jon how to fight and protect himself and others even without his powers; not just because he's an excellent teacher. But because no other non-super has as much experience navigating the complex life of being a high profile kid superhero.
And Dick taught him. He trained him, and he told him about his father and his legacy, about who Superman was to the people who cared about him and worked with him.
And well after Dick's gone back to being Nightwing, even when he's not a constant fixture in Damian's life anymore, even when he's off in Bludhaven, when Jon finds himself struggling to navigate a new situation as a superhero, one of the first things he does is seek out Dick. Dick doesn't always have good advice to give him, but he does have similar experiences that help him understand Jon and his unique struggles.
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apomaro-mellow · 10 months ago
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King and Prince 15
Part 14
We have officially begun the second arc of this fic! Arc 1: Enemies Arc 2: Friends? ....Friends.... (<- You are here!) Arc 3: Lovers
The day before the festivities, Eddie was constantly on his feet and on the move. He had barely a moment to himself. But as the sun set, he took a second to check in on his favorite hostage-turned-guest. But Eddie never did these checks in person. Now seemed to be the time to give Steve as much space as he could. Eddie didn’t know in detail what kind of life he led in his old kingdom, but it couldn’t be anything good. A crown prince should be fighting tooth and nail to get back home. Steve hadn’t made any escape attempts since that last one weeks ago.
Eddie stood by the window of his room and held a hand out to beckon the raven that landed. He stroked its feathers in thanks for letting him see Steve. His eyes became the bird’s eyes whenever he wished, allowing him to see how Steve behaved while he was alone. He never intruded for long, but Eddie wasn’t going to fall to a soft heart and let someone untrustworthy roam without suspicion.
His precaution was starting to appear unnecessary in the end. Because Steve had no plans to harm anyone, not even him. As much as he and Dustin had prodded at the prince to see further than his own nose and learn about what was around him, Eddie had to admit that he too had his own assumptions about him. 
He hadn’t imagined the enemy to be an uncontrollable monster like the other side did. But Eddie hadn’t expected someone willingly lending a hand to some kids, who did manual labor with very minimal grumbling. He hadn’t expected Steve to be, well, nice. He might be the first Harrington who Eddie hadn’t wanted to kill on sight.
One thing his little feathered friend reminded him of was the fact that Steve’s wardrobe was severely cut down from what he must be used to. There was certainly a drop of quality as well, though it was comfortable to wear. And Eddie thought he shouldn’t be left out of the fun when it came to new clothes.
-------------------------
The next morning, Steve rose with the sun and had breakfast with the children in the kitchen. Afterwards, he figured his job for the day would be helping out wherever he was needed for the activities around the castle. But when he caught Robin in the hallway, she shook her head at him.
“I don’t have you today. You belong to those kids there”, she pointed to the gaggle catching up from behind.
“Them?”, Steve asked. “But they’re going to-” Their plans all involved the action happening in the town just outside the castle gates. A town filled with this kingdom’s people. People who might want to see Steve’s end, if they knew who he was.
Robin just waved with her fingers as Dustin and El grabbed both of his arms and started to pull him towards the main entrance of the castle. Outside, a wagon was already hitched up to a horse, driver at the ready to take them out. Steve tried to keep the apprehension off his face as he watched the kids get on, then followed after. Obviously the townsfolk couldn’t tell who he was just by looking at him. Even so, what if someone let something slip and the wrong thing was overheard?
His charges were unaware, still talking about all the things to do once they were there. They were already dressed in their new finery, surely with a warning not to get them too dirty before the performance. Steve tried not to feel too disappointed by his own clothing. He didn’t need any eyes drawn to him.
“We’re going to the games first”, Lucas said.
“Who said you’re in charge?”, Max challenged.
“I thought we agreed we should see the market first”, Will said.
“I agree that we should go before they run out of strawberries”, Dustin started. “But we can afford some time to go and see the mechanists first.”
Steve was suddenly struck with why he was put on supervising duty. Without an adult, they’d surely run off in a dozen different directions. They were let out right in the thick of it and Steve was overwhelmed but only for a moment as he clapped his hands and called them to attention.
“Hey. Hey! If one of you gets lost or hurt, that’s my neck on the chopping block!” Steve didn’t want to think of how literal that might be. “I’ll decide where we go and when and I swear to the old gods and new if I hear any griping, you can hop right back on the wagon.”
There was definitely some eye rolling. And the start of groans. And crossed arms. But no one directly opposed him. That left Steve to make a decision. He put his hands on his hips, looking at them one by one as they gazed back expectantly.
“So here’s what we’re going to do”, he began. “You all just ate. We don’t need to go and get berries right now. I promise we’ll go before they run out. It makes the most sense to do the games first. You guys are bouncing off the walls and need something to direct all that energy.”
After which, they’d be in a mood for some kind of refreshing pick-me-up, like freshly picked fruit. And maybe even some kind of meal before seeing what else the people of this town had to offer. His plan was met with minimal protests and for a moment Steve got the idea that they might actually like and respect him. There were games for both young and old, separated by skill level.
Lucas decided to try his hand at archery and Steve felt a twinge of pride, especially when he got a near bullseye on the first try. The next few weren’t as great but he hoped Lucas would remember that first near-win. If nothing else, he might remember the impressed look on Max’s face before she wiped it away, glancing around to make sure no one else saw. Even though the others typically weren’t so swayed by feats of athleticism, they congratulated Lucas.
“You almost got it in!”, Will exclaimed.
“Think of the potential. With an archer, we could be unstoppable!”, Dustin said.
Steve didn’t want to think about what sort of potential they were imagining. He’d thought he’d just follow them around and make sure they didn’t get kidnapped but was thrown off when they dragged him to a different field where there were older competitors.
“I think it’s time you show us what you got”, Mike said, arms crossed.
“What?”
“You talk a big game, but no one’s actually seen you do anything serious”, Max said.
“Lucas was there when Nancy tried to chop my head off”, Steve said in his defense.
Mike shrugged. “Yeah, but she was probably going easy on you.”
“You’d probably be good at that”, El pointed to where a bunch of young adults were tossing spears to see who could get it the farthest.
A simple task, especially given his royal training. Steve thought it almost unfair as he stepped up to compete. But he took the other seriously as he stretched and got ready. He wasn’t surprised when he thrust the spear forward and it fell in a graceful arc leagues further than any other. Still, he was glad that he wasn’t getting rusty up in that castle, locked away. Steve figured he’d proven himself, but then he was pointed to hay bale lifting, then the races, and then a child toss.
“Wait, why am I tossing you guys into the water?”, Steve asked while other people were stretching their legs.
Dustin lit up. “The child toss has a rich history that’s actually hotly debated and only because Eddie won’t tell us what really happened because he thinks its funny how many different stories there are-”
“Just lift them up and throw them in the pond as fast as you can”, Max said.
“As fun as it would be to chuck some of you, not in these clothes”, Steve put his foot down.
Thankfully, they moved quickly to the other games. All things that Steve excelled at. For as much as he was trying to keep a low profile, the townsfolk started to be taken with this talented stranger. It didn’t hurt that many of the events gave them glimpses at his physique. As he promised, once they got their fill of watching him compete, he took them to the market where farmers were presenting the bounties of early spring. It was a good preview of things to come in the following months.
Steve popped a berry into his mouth when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned and saw a man he didn’t recognize. For a moment, he thought he’d been seen for who he was, but he read the other man’s body language. There was something a little nervous about it, especially in the way he seemed to want to look at Steve but not meet his gaze.
“Hey uh, so I saw you over at the fields and uh-”
Ah.
Steve licked some of the juice off his fingers and noticed how intensely he was being watched. He had his fair share of bedmates back home and was familiar with the look of desire. It had just been so long since he'd seen it. Before the man could continue, El was calling for him and Max was grabbing him by the elbow. The girls wanted to go and watch the street musicians while the boys wanted to go and visit the mechanists. Steve finally conceded to a split on the condition that they met up for lunch in half an hour.
“Half an hour is barely any time”, Mike complained.
“It’s all you have if you want to eat before seeing the illusionist. You have to be on stage right after that”, Steve reminded them.
Given that time limit, Will and the other boys rushed off to see the new machines and inventions dreamt up during the winter while the girls led Steve towards music playing. Unbeknownst to anyone there, the king was already present, red hood obscuring his face as he sat on a barrel, playing a cheerful tune for his people.
Part 16
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