#waynes going to be fine

[stevieschrodinger]

“Rob, come on!”

“Don’t you ‘come on!’ me!”

Steve immediately snorts a laugh.

Rob gets all flustered, “I didn’t- I mean- oh fuck you very much Harrington.”

“Don’t worry Rob,” Steve chokes out around his laughter, “I’ll try not to come- try not to get it- oh my god,” Steve dissolves into breathless laughter.

Rob slaps the manila file into Steve’s hands, “I don’t have time for your bullshit,” and she marches off down the corridor, kitten heals clacking on the linoleum.

Steve jogs to catch up, “what would Vicki say?” Steve asks, mock scandalized.

She cuts her eyes at him, scowling from behind her too long bangs, “don’t even joke.”

Steve opens the file while Robin pulls out her key card and straightens her jacket. What she wears is far more stylish than what she did when they were teenagers, but she’s never quite grown out of being a little gangly. Where Steve filled out even further, what with the morning runs and evening swims, weekends spent at the local gym and basketball court, Robin has always remained very slim. She looks good today though, she’s definitely grown up, but thank god she never grew out of being Robin – for some reason today she’s paired an emerald green jacket with navy pinstripe pants and shiny, cherry red shoes and somehow, it kind of, sort of, works.

It’s probably the colorful scarf pulling it together, or something.

“The files a little light,” Steve comments as she activates the security lock and holds the door open for him to pass through.

“Yeap. First fourteen years are...pretty vague. I’ve tracked the parents; the mother’s been dead a few years,” Steve makes a face, “and the dad is a guest of the state,” Steve can feel his face crumple even further. “Yeah. He’d been in and out for a while, assault, aggravated assault, theft, possession, possession with intent, honestly it’s a laundry list, the one that stuck was manslaughter.”

“Oh man, not the mom,” Robin makes a face in answer, “fucking hell.”

Robin holds up her badge for security to see, and they get buzzed through. Steve’s nose tickles with all the Omega scents.

“Luckily he wasn’t around at the end, I don’t know if he even knows about his parents. They kicked him out when he presented,” Steve tuts, “yeah, I know, but it was actually the best thing they ever did for him. He was picked up by his uncle, dad’s brother. The guy had regular, full time employment, suddenly the kid’s got medical records, there’s regular prescriptions for blockers and birth control, his school attendance goes from fifty five percent to ninety seven.”

“So the uncle is a good guy?”

Robin sighs, nods, “hopefully he pulls through.”

Steve continues to scan the file as Robin stops them at the final doorway, leaning against the closed door, “says here he’s non verbal?”

“Most of the time, it’s behavioral, he can speak, does, occasionally. We picked him up from the hospital; he’d gone in with his uncle, cardiac arrest that led to some complications, he's had a couple of surgeries already, but he might be in for a while. He's waiting for a pacemaker now, I think.”

“Shitty.”

“Yeah. Steve, listen a second. This kid...it could be anything. He was clearly malnourished growing up, this could be a trauma response. He might suffer with PTSD, might get separation anxiety-”

“Yeah, Rob, I get it.”

“I just,” she deflates a little, hopeless, “this isn’t the place for him. The other Omega, they mean well, they try and include him, and you know what they’re like, curious about new people, but that just drives him away. He doesn’t come out of his room much. Stopped coming into the dining hall for meals; I tried to wait it out, thought if he got hungry enough he’d cave,” she spreads her hands, “nada. I had to cave; he just eats in his room. And he’s terrible with food. Basically unless it’s been shaped into a nugget or came out of a can, he doesn’t get it. Like he’s never even seen real food before...this just...it’s not the place for him here Steve. All the others, it’s like...like a camp out for them, you know? Not him though, he needs some stability. He needs a home.”

“I get it Rob, it’s not my first rodeo.”

“I know, I know, that’s why I called you first, obviously...it’s just. I know it’s a lot. And I know it’s hard on you, after.”

Steve thinks of Dustin, who still calls him the first Sunday of every month without fail; how he’s expecting his first pup with his mate Suzie. Thinks of Max, how fierce she is, how close they got even in the short time they were together. Her mom made it through rehab though, and got custody back. She still drops by sometimes, and Steve loves to see her. The last time she brought her new boyfriend, Lucas, with her, looking for approval from the only father figure she’s ever really had. The Byers boys who came into his care when their mother had some sort of psychotic episode. How the Beta Jonathan had been so stand offish, where Will, too young to have presented yet, had sort Steve out to cuddle into every night. It was bittersweet, the day Joyce got custody back; Steve was glad it worked out for them, but he was still devastated to see them go.

He’s helped out with a lot of kids over the last six years; he can do this.

“It is...but it’s worth it.”

“Steve,” Robin touches his arm, briefly, “this one will be worse. Fostering kids is one thing, being a temporary pack Alpha for them...Eddie is two months off being eighteen years old, legally able to take a mate, potentially sexually active-”

“Rob, I’ll cross that bridge if we come to it. And if he needs me,” Steve shrugs, “it is what it is.”

“Steve,” she tries again, voice gentle, “I just need you to be sure.”

Steve’s only had one other Omega in his care who was old enough to need Steve in a sexual manner, as well as all the other needs that the people in his temporary pack often have; when she left it was...bad. Neither of them ever say Nancy’s name out loud, haven’t for a couple of years. But Steve knows now, what it is he’s getting into.

He knows this has the potential to be painful, he’s broken enough bonds now. Pack scent bonds; it’s unavoidable. It’s the support of an Alpha, it’s exactly what Steve is there to provide. What happens after will not be Eddie’s problem; it’ll be Steve’s.

And he won’t make the mistake he made with Nancy. This time he’ll remember that Eddie’s going to leave, won’t let himself fall into the illusion that it’s real. He knows now, that it hurts.

Just like it has every other time, when his new pack leaves.

“It’ll be fine Rob. I’ll be fine.”

She bites her lip, not looking sure at all, but she nods and leans more against the door, pushing it open with her shoulder as Steve follows her though. There’s laughter along the hall, two young Omega playing chase rush past them, “take it outside please!” Robin yells after them.

Steve tags along, knows all the doorways are bedrooms; young Omega on this wing, all in need of a safe haven. Steve can hear the bustle and chatter of the dining room, the clatter and scrape of cutlery loud as they pass the doorway. At the very end of the hall, the last door stands propped open by a plastic chair, there’s a red plastic tray with a plate sitting on it. There’s evidence of crumbs and sauce from what had been eaten, but the peas haven’t been touched. The window is open too, letting in a fresh breeze. The Omega is curled up, wedged in the corner of the room on his single bed, a book held open in his hand as he stares at them in the doorway.

“You know you won’t die if you eat a green thing, right?” Robin asks him.

He tilts his head, his curly hair shifting, and purses his lips, kind of frowning with one eyebrow quirked up, to Steve is sort of says, ‘why take the risk?’. Steve has to school his features so he doesn’t laugh.

“Okay Eddie, this is Steve, and he’s been kind enough to offer to put a roof over your head for the next little while, how does that sound?”

Eddie shrugs.

“Good enough for me,” Robin replies like Eddie’s spoken, “okay, pack your things.”

It’s not a scowl, not really, but the way Eddie side eyes the radio means...well, Steve’s not even sure what it means, “you can change it, if you like.”

Eddie huffs and shrugs, crosses his arms over his chest and leans back in the car seat, looking out of the window. The next song comes on; Steve pretty sure it’s Taylor Swift, and Eddie suddenly lunges for the radio. He presses the seek button until he hits something that, to Steve, sounds like two angry guitars hate fucking in a bear infested mine, but he lets it go since Eddie doesn’t turn it up any louder.

Steve carries Eddie’s unfortunately light bag of belongings into the house, “we can go shopping, maybe tomorrow or the day after. I don’t know if you know how this works or not, but you have a state budget, or rather, I do, for you. So don’t worry, if you need anything, just ask.”

He leaves Eddie’s bag at the foot of the stairs, Eddie cautiously following him as Steve points out the blindingly obvious, “lounge, kitchen, through there is the garage, that’s out to the yard.” Eddie eyes are huge in his head, darting around like he doesn’t know what to do with them. “Utility through there, bring me your basket when you need, I’ll show you how to use the machines. That’s my office, I work from home two days a week, but I have to go into the office for three,” there’s a distinct spike of anxiety in the air, “but that isn’t for a couple of weeks, or until your Alpha is better, so don’t worry yet. One of the perks; you get me PTO.”

Eddie frowns at him, “Paid Time Off.”

Eddie frowns again like Steve’s presented him with an alien. Never mind.

“Okay, upstairs, this is my room,” Steve opens the door, watches as Eddie scans the room with poorly disguised interest. The bed is neatly made, the thick comforter and pillows all fluffed up. The carpet a deep gray and the rest of the room dark rich wood with some splashes of forest green, “now, I’ll show you your room, but it’s entirely up to you where you sleep. I under stand that your uncle was your familial Alpha and you lived in close quarters so...where you sleep is up to you. If you need that.”

Eddie’s gone so red Steve worries his head might explode; Steve, somehow, manages not to laugh at him. He shows Eddie to the next door down, “this is your room, I will never come in here unless you explicitly invite me or I think there’s a genuine cause for concern, okay? There’s a lock on the door, but I do have a master. So if you don’t want me barging in, you need to let me know you’re okay when I ask, okay?”

Eddie nods.

“Good, I need to be clear about that from the start,” Steve puts Eddie’s bag down in the threshold, “there’s extra nesting materials in the top of the wardrobe, the bathroom is through there, help yourself to all the toiletries, they’re for you. Feel free to chill out for a bit, get cleaned up, I’ll do food for about six ish.”

And Steve leaves him to it.

Steve’s chicken parm is, even if he says so himself, pretty damn good. His sauce is ninety percent blended vegetables; carrots, tomatoes, bell peppers; a trick he learned when trying to hide more vegetables in the kids food. He’s got a similar recipe for mac and cheese that no one has ever complained about, even though the sauce is at least fifty percent carrot.

Also, he figures the breaded chicken is just, like, a giant chicken nugget, right?

So that has to look sort of familiar. And you can get spaghetti out of a can so, surely, this isn't so different.

If Eddie doesn’t like cheese...well, that’s just unnatural. Steve’ll just have to take him back to Robin.

Steve’s got everything on plates and is about to call for Eddie, but the kid appears in the doorway, exactly six oclock. He’s got his arms wrapped around himself, uncertainty coloring the air, but he’s here, that’s the important thing.

They eat together in the breakfast nook, Eddie picks at his food rather than just eating. Steve tries to match his pace, suspicious that as soon as Steve stops eating, Eddie will stop too. He’s right.

Steve makes a mental note to do a grocery shop and go heavy on the snacks. Steve can see the evidence of Eddie growing up malnourished. He’s too pale, his eyes far too large in his face, his joints protrude and his clothes hang off his frame.

There’s no conversation, but Steve doesn’t push it. It’s not time yet.

They watch TV for a while before bed, Eddie curled up tight at the opposite end of the couch, as far from Steve as he can get. Steve adopts a relaxed posture, lets himself sink down. Pulls a blankets off the back of the couch to go across his knees and leaves another in the middle, an obvious hint to Eddie if he wants it. He doesn’t touch it.

Eddie slips away after an hour, heads upstairs. Steve watches the kid go but doesn’t say anything. It’s a pretty solid start; he’s had much, much worse. Eddie doesn’t appear to be any kind of flight risk, which is a huge plus in Steve’s book.

He messages Rob with an update before pulling out his laptop and responding to some emails. He might legitimately have a couple of weeks off work, but that doesn’t mean he wants to return to a landslide of unanswered messages when he does go back.

He heads to bed a little after. Showers and goes through his night time routine; it’s only nine but it’s been a bit of a day, and Steve intends to read for a while. It’s thirty minutes before he hears Eddie’s door open and close. The creak of the stairs. Steve sneaks to his own door, opens it a little and stands there, ears straining.

Listens as the front door rattles but doesn’t open. The key is right there, Eddie’s not trying to escape; he’s checking the house is secure. Steve hears the fridge door a few moments later, then the TV, turned down low.

Steve goes back to bed, happy that Eddie is already making himself at home. He’s asleep thirty minutes after that. And he sleeps well, until something disturbs him, the bed covers shifting. Eddie freezes when he realizes he’s woken Steve. Steve’s still half asleep, and it’s easy to just not make a big deal of it, he yawns, lifting the covers. Eddie slips in, rolling over and wriggling back, allowing himself to be the little spoon. Steve throws a leg, an arm, and the covers over Eddie’s slim frame, and easily goes back to sleep.

When Steve wakes up, Eddie’s gone again.

Steve finds Eddie on the couch. It’s a scene he’s used to, the TV displaying the little, ‘are you still watching?’ box. He’s had a lot of kids who can’t sleep without company, or background noise, or something, and finding them on the couch is pretty normal.

What’s not normal is the position Eddie is sleeping in, his head hanging off the edge, one arm flopped awkwardly above his head and the other bent underneath him, one leg hooked over the back of the couch. He’s snoring. It’s...kind of loud.

And also kind of adorable. Steve pushes those feelings down reminds himself; he cannot get attached to this one.

He knows how much it hurts.

[oifaaa]

It's funny how opinions can change over time for instance I used to want Bruce to be a good parent but then I realised how fucking boring that is to read at the end of the day comics are soap operas and I'm here for the drama

[lunewolf13]

It has come to Bruce's attention that Kon-El might be romantically interested in his son. So of course, he decides to investigate (subtly). Starting with...

Bruce: Tim.

Tim: Bruce.

The following silence lasts for ten seconds.

Bruce: How would you describe your relationship with Superboy?

Tim: Uh, pretty good?

Bruce: Pretty good? Can you be more specific? How does he interact with you?

Tim: I mean, he keeps sending me selfies in the weirdest places. One time, Kon sent one with a thumbs up while the background was clearly during a mission and our teammates were chucking basketballs at these weird alien plant vines. I was there too, so it makes even less sense. Like, why would he send me a selfie of where he is when I was like fifteen feet away?

After taking a moment to...digest what just came out of his kid's mouth, Bruce decides to investigate their relationship some other time.

More pressingly, he needs to know the details of this mission and why this is the first he's hearing of it.

Tim: Actually, Dick was there too. He was wrestling with a vine. And not like fighting wrestling, but arm wrestling. With a vine.

Bruce can't stop himself from asking: Did he win?

Tim: He did! I'll send you the video and you can hear the vine grunting and hissing while everyone was cheering Nightwing on!

Bruce: They were cheering him on, while throwing basketballs at the other vines?

Tim: Yep.

Bruce: And what were you doing during this?

Tim points to the video on his phone: Capturing the moment and giving orders at the same time. Don't worry, I can multitask.

Bruce: So you ordered them to throw basketballs at the vines.

Tim nods: Strategic distraction while we lead the alien plant vines to a trap.

Bruce: And why was Nightwing arm wrestling one particular vine?

Tim: To boost morale. Also, Kon double-dog dared him.

Bruce: Tim.

Tim: What?

Bruce just sighs.

[steddieas-shegoes]

Steve’s parents send him on a gap year after high school in hopes that it’ll get him ready to apply to colleges and become a proper adult. They let him choose any of their three vacation homes so he chooses their condo in Paris.

He’s expected to find a job and himself.

The bakery down the block from the condo is owned by two old men who don’t wanna open anymore because they like sleeping in and sipping on their coffee on their balcony. Steve is happy to take over.

Especially when he sees the guy who works at the wine store across the road.

He’s in by 8 every morning, waving to the people coming in and out of the bookshop next to him and the bike repair shop next to them. His smile is contagious, and Steve often finds himself completely distracted by it even if he’s helping customers.

His long hair is always down when he gets there, but by the time Steve sees him leave in the afternoon, it’s pulled up and he has a sweaty sheen across his skin.

Steve decides to visit on his day off, maybe grab a bottle of wine even though he hates every wine he’s ever had to sip on at family functions.

But the man isn’t there when he stops by, or at least not at the counter. An older man is there, wrapping a bottle in paper for a customer who seems like they visit often.

It’s a small store, no bigger than the bakery, so it’s not like the guy could be hiding somewhere.

“Looking for something?” The older man asks as he walks around the counter towards Steve with a smile.

“Oh. Um.”

“You’re lookin’ for Ed right?” The old man’s smile turned into a smirk. “Ed! Customer!”

The man Steve had been seeing every morning and afternoon was suddenly rushing from the back of the store, clipboard in hand, hair sticking to his neck and forehead.

“Hi! What can I help you with?”

Steve could think of quite a few things he could help him with, but it probably wasn’t appropriate to say in front of someone else in his place of work.

“Sorry. Do you need me to speak French?” The man, Ed, asked in flawless French.

“No,” Steve assured. “I work in the bakery across the street. Just wanted to come by and say hi.”

Ed’s brows furrowed as he turned to the older guy who was already back at the counter trying to look busy.

“Does David need a bottle for something? He usually has Wayne pick his pairings.”

Steve shook his head. “No, not that I know of. I’ve just…um. Well, this is actually weirder now that I’m here. So I think I’ll go. Sorry to waste your time!”

Steve turned to go, but a hand grabbed his arm, tugging him back.

“Are you always this awkward?” Ed asked. Steve looked up from his feet to see him smiling. “It’s kind of cute.”

“Steve.”

“Steve. How about you come taste our sample bottle for the day? Maybe it’ll take the edge off,” Eddie offered, gesturing towards a side table that had an open bottle of wine and small sample glasses. “You like rosé?”

“I don’t really know.”

“Then let’s find out.”

Turns out Steve didn’t mind rosé that much, but maybe that was the company. The flavor was a bit less bitter than he was used to, going down much smoother without leaving a burning sensation on his tongue.

And later, after Eddie had talked to him for nearly an hour about himself and the store and his uncle who took him in and worked for him, Steve leaned in and got a taste of the rosé on Eddie’s tongue.

Steve decided he liked wine more than he thought.

[haveihitanerve]

Somebody: Jasons so angry and aggressive and kills people- hes the most violent batfamily member Bruce-I-would-have-killed-joker-had-fucking-superman-not-stopped-me-and-I-would-do-it-again-if-any-harm-befalls-my-family-also-i-beat-up-people-daily-as-therapy-wayne: what? Dick-i-was-planning-a-mans-murder-at-age-eight-and-would-have-done-it-also-i-didn't-have-superman-so-i-did-kill-joker-Grayson-Wayne: huh? Tim-My-body-count-is-probably-six-digits-by-now-but-it-doesn't-count-if-bruce-doesn't-know-stalker-Drake-Wayne: repeat that? Damian-i-came-with-the-katana-and-a-body-count-at-age-eight-wayne: what did you say about Ahki? Stephanie-i-will-crack-mad-funny-jokes-while-beating-your-face-in-with-a-brick-Brown-Wayne: waht? Barbara-i-wouldn't-but-like-i-could-and-i-know-you-and-your-entire-family-extending-to-your-great-uncle-thirteen-times-removed-Gordon-Wayne: *typing on keyboard* what was that? Duke-I-created-a-cult-about-robin-and-also-i-was-raised-in-gotham: sorry?

[tianhai03]

had to do poster making as an exercise and the theme was superheroes, so of course i drew mr. vengeance for it🦇

[glitter-stained]

Okay you know what fuck this shit I'm tired, screw nuance actually. I think murder is okay now.

[scraps-n-starters]

Dead Serious Arranged Marriage aus are fun

If I were to do one I'd play with it a little. Give one or both of them a bit of forewarning.

A careful message from Talia, an arrangement set in soul and stone with the opening of the pits. A bit of research, an awareness of the inherent cruelty and callousness of the unliving.

A file flagged with familiar purple as Danny attempts to sort through the mess left by his predecessors. A Crown Prince as his heart still beats, but an Heir Apparent nonetheless.

A cautious meeting between affianced.

(One wary and wise, with word that any Heir Apparent of The Tyrant is not a foe to be trifled with)

(One can tell much by the ghosts the other leaves behind. A Nursemaid with tales of the vicious culture of the League. Test assassins that tell of what one will do to survive. Failed clones, empty echoes, unable to live their own lives but neither left with room for error or mercy. All drowned out by dozens of soft mewls and memories of warm hands and gentle goodbyes. You cannot rescue every animal that comes into your hands. But the echoes of attempts exist. Desert coarse fur and shared water. Danny was a goner before they'd ever even met.)

Likely a warning at 16, a meeting at 17, and a courtship lasting an age and a half

But that's alright

They've got all the time in the world

[erinwantstowrite]

will damian warm up to peter in halloween au like he did in lof ?

they'll be besties in no time, no one can withstand peter being peter

[queenvsbarton]

got this stupid idea in my head of jason being the "cool older brother" who teaches tim and/or damian how to smoke a joint, but with the caveat that "this is a sometimes thing and if you get your dumb ass addicted to anything i can and will send you to rehab at gunpoint or, failing that, execute you myself"

[assassin-artist]

uhh kinda obsessed w this FREAK [wip]

[lukazade]

More pen scribbling,,, getting comfortable with it now but the pen is gonna run out soon 💔

[timblrdrake]

Pookie

You promised you wouldn't hurt them

siiiiiiigh i literally run a company…anyways

Not here, kitten whiskers, daddy will discuss it later.

^please read this with the disdain and dread only a teenager running on 3 hours of sleep can supply

[swiggity-swexual-i-am-asexual]

Reminder for the dpxdc writers!

Yeah I know lots of us get canon and fanon confused and some never watched Danny Phantom which is why I’m going to *friendly remind everyone* that if you don’t want to use the Ghost King Danny thing, it’s—it’s fanon. Like. You do not need to go out of your way to make it Not A Thing, if you find it’s hindering your plot line or whatever. You don’t have to write around it. At this point, you might need to clarify it’s not something you’re doing, since it’s so common, but like—if I have to read one more plot where they’re twisted up in knots to avoid it, like. Pls. You can do what you want and that includes this, we already disregard canon all the time, you can buck common fanon as well I’m—

That’s not to say I’m against Ghost King Danny, but I’m starting to think it’s one of those things people are afraid to stray from because they think it’s it’s one of the more… pillar parts? Of Danny’s character and canon? When it’s, like, not. If you want to write in reasons why he’s not king and etc etc you CAN, it’s your story and maybe it even serves your plot or tone or you just want to, but you can also just not even have it be a consideration. You’re free to just not do it.

[ghost-bxrd]

How would Talon!Dick react to Jason falling off a tall building during patrol? 🦉

He would freeze.

Dick could be standing on the adjacent building, or see from farther away as Jason tips over the edge, but either way: he would freeze. Because he wasn’t prepared for this.

Any other situation and he would have leapt straight to Jason’s rescue. (During the times where Jason was still new to grapples and roof hopping Dick was never more than a few meters behind him, plucking him out of free fall more than once.)

But this? It’s not supposed to happen. Jason never falls. Never loses his balance. Not anymore.

And Dick would be stuck watching Jason’s face twist from surprise to outright terror as he goes plummeting, unable to get his body to move. The image of his parents superimposed over the very real, very present threat of the same thing happening to Jason. But still, he can’t move. Everything feels stuffed with cotton and there’s this distracted realization that Dick is about to watch him die. That he could have prevented this, but didn’t. That he’s just standing there, seeing his world end in slow motion and why can’t he move—

Bruce catches Jason, because Batman always has Robin’s back. And Dick collapses where he stands, in shock, shaking like crazy long after Jason and Bruce check up on him and Jason is safely nestled in his arms.

This happens once. Only once. If Jason ever falls again after that, Dick would leap straight off the rooftops after him.

[hanshenrykcd]

you know what i find funny? bruce and jason are just staring at each other for quite some time, since joker is only in bruce's imagination