#but at the same tim i genuinely do not understand the... purpose of this one?

[decepti-geek]

I’m sure people have lots of fun with the doomed by the narrative thing but whenever I see it I turn into the project runway guy

“doomed by the narrative” shut up it’s the fucking creator making creative decisions

[mysterycitrus]

hi! i just got finished with the second chapter of persephones in hell and!! such a great dick fic and i loved getting to see the titans. but i’m feeling like i’m interpreting things wrong wrt bruce and wanted to clarify.. what are you thoughts on bruce? ik he’s obsessive and has a tendency to manipulate and shut out those close to him, but i’ve never gotten the feeling he’s actually physically or emotionally abusing these kids. i’m picking up a vibe in the fic tho that some of the titans think bruce is abusive (towards dick at least) and i’m wondering if it was your intention to write bruce that way, or just that he’s perceived as such? (i’m aware also that dicks perspective is justifiably skewed)

i could just be over thinking it. sorry for bothering you. i don’t mean this in a “problematic bruce get cancelled” kind of way. i feel bad if it comes across that way sorry i’m just genuinely curious :)

hello! i won’t go into specifics cause this is like… the thesis of part three, but no — i personally don’t subscribe to the idea that bruce is an irredeemable abusive asshole. there’s plenty of evidence for him being one in comics, but a lot of it is dregs of frank miller era masochismo, and i prefer batman to be fundamentally kind.

in saying that tho — the titans are right. i think u would be very hard pressed to find a comic where bruce and dick (of all his kids) don’t have an unhealthy, codependent relationship. bruce inspires debilitating loyalty in many people he works with, but dick has it the absolute worst of everyone because he’s been emotionally regulating bruce since he was eight years old.

when people say dick was parentified, i think there’s some confusion about what it means in this context. it’s not about a child raising their younger siblings (dick was out of the house and an adult by the time jason came around) but more that a child is made responsible for the emotional well-being of their parent. we see this in scarecrow year one, in teen titans year one, and sporadically all over canon. the titans, looking in, see dick still carrying bruce’s expectations well into adulthood and hate it.

i also think bruce being a maliciously abusive character is a disservice to the characterisation of everyone else — there is absolutely no way dick would’ve let bruce adopt anyone else if that was the case. there’s no way babs would. tim isn’t an idiot, he would’ve kept his distance. same with jason. cass has a very twisted understanding of pain, but she could literally read his body language and be able to tell if he was hurting someone on purpose. clark and diana would snap him like a twig.

i think it’s a lot more interesting if a kind person who wants to do good is so pathologically afraid of losing the people he loves that he’ll hurt them in response, and was so traumatised that after twenty years his sole pillar of emotional regulation was a boy who’d just suffered the same trauma he had.

[it-is-i-zim]

A little bit of a rant but I really don't like it when non-Captain Boomerang try to portray Captain Boomerang as this like cold hearted, stone cold killer. I understand why it could possibly appear that way to someone who knows absolutely nothing about Captain Boomerang, outside of this one character in 2 different comics, but like as a fan of him, it's getting annoying to see people act like he goes around murdering people on purpose. Hero or not. Presumably he'd probably be more uncomfortable with killing children or teenagers.

"But what about Hack???" I hear no one yelling but just to cover all of my bases... HE CANONICALLY FELT LIKE SHIT AFTER THAT!!! He literally states "I can't believe I just did that" with a clear look of shock, and possibly horror, on his face. He literally cannot believe he killed someone. But he feels that he has to because he's "the bad guy." And bad guys kill people. That's what they do so he feels that in order to be a good criminal, he has to kill, even if he fuckin hates it. Even if he feels bad about it.

And not too much longer after this, Harley notices that it's eating away at him. She doesn't know what specific, but she knows he's distressed about something. So she asked if he was okay.

His response is very telling, "... I did a bad thing, Quinn." He looks so guilty about the whole thing. It's also clearly meant to sound like he genuinely feels bad about what he's done.

"What about Jack Drake" I hear probably no one asking still, but just in case, again, covering all my bases here. This is a bit more of a complicated thing. Especially considering the fact that the comics was written 15 years ago by this point but it's recently come to people's attention as a result of a new comic called Robin: Knight Terrors, where issue 5 of Identity Crisis is referenced in issue 1 of Knight Terrors: Robin.

I want to make something very clear. Knight Terrors isn't meant to be taken absolutely literally. It is simply exploring character's fears through the lense of a character's nightmares while at the same time trying to tie it to this new villain, Insomnia or whatever his name is.

These aren't meant to be taken as what literal canon events. These don't accurately portray what happened in the slightest. These are just Tim's perspective on the events, combined with the trauma that Tim Drake received because of his father being murdered.

First thing I'd like to point out, no words were said at all. Captain Boomerang literally didn't even see it coming until it was too late. He was only really there to break in, steal stuff, and leave. Still not necessarily something Captain Boomerang would do, he's more of a bank robber kind of guy. This is something well established but I don't want to waste everyone's time showing every single time he's robbed a bank or a jewelry store or convenience stor. Cuz that's what Captain Boomerang does. He steals from establishments, not individuals.

In Identity Crisis, Captain Boomerang is literally falling over after being shot 3 times in the chest as he's throwing the boomerang at Jack Drake. Jack Drake fired first. It was not Captain Boomerang's intention to kill anyone here. Cuz that's not what Captain Boomerang does. He doesn't kill unless he's trying to defend himself or he feels like he has to. He's not a killer.

To add to this, in issue 6 of Identity Crisis, Tim literally did not get there until after his father was dead for some time. He did not witness the events that took place at all. Knight Terrors: Robin is based on how Tim would view the situation though a nightmarish lense by having his father die essentially on loop.

In short, Captain Boomerang is a thief, not a killer. He doesn't kill unless he feels it's necessary for one reason or another. He's still a bad guy, I understand that, but he's not murdering people at random and I'm kinda tired of hearing people thinking that that's his thing. Cuz believe it or not, Hack and Jack Drake are literally the only 2 examples I have for Captain Boomerang that aren't specifically part of a Suicide Squad assassination mission. Which if you don't know anything about the Suicide Squad, they literally have to do so or their head gets blown off. I guess technically Hack was killed cuz Harcourt and Captain Boomerang are working for The People, an organization trying to be just like the Suicide Squad, so presumably, the brain bomb situation still applies here, but on the other hand it established that I guess he volunteered or something like that? But my point still stands. He's existed since at least December of 1960, the publication date of his first appearance.

If Captain Boomerang was an actual killer, you would have definitely heard about it by now.

And I haven't even gotten into the fact that, at least like... 10 years ago or whatever, that Flash Rogues kinda have a code against killing and doing drugs and such. And Captain Boomerang is a Flash Rogue. It's not really physically shown anymore, but he still is. I mean just look at Aquaman and The Flash: Voidsong, issue 1. Right there, he's back with the Rogues.

And even then, this isn't the best interpretation of the Rogues. Because contrary to popular belief, they don't kill Speedsters. This is yet another one of their established rules. They just don't kill. It's not at all what they do.

I feel like a broken record having to explain this time and time again. Because these guys are riddled with writers who just don't understand them. Writers often just use them as Bad Guy Numbers 1 through 15 or whatever, despite the fact that they are Flash's (at least Barry's anyway) main villains. And all they do is rob from banks mostly. Maybe a jewelry store. They don't go out of their way to murder people for no reason, even during a robbery. They don't go out of their way to kill heroes for no reason. I don't even think they've gone out of their way to even fight the Flash for any reason. He just shows up when the commit crimes. That's it. They aren't trying to kill him. They aren't trying to actually put people in danger. It's not what they do. And once again. Captain Boomerang is still one of them. Therefore he's not doing any of those things either.

This honestly wasn't necessary to explain, but I feel the need to share by perspective as a Captain Boomerang fan. There seems to be a Captain Boomerang Misconception™ that I've kinda witnessed within the Captain Boomerang tags alone with a bit of discussion involving Knight Terrors: Robin from Tim Drake fans in particular and Captain Boomerang isn't portrayed very will in comics about Tim Drake.

[dimdiamond]

Chang is such a fascinating character because he has all these unexplored material by the canon and yet canon gives us a few scenes of him that leave such a strong impression.

He is Tintin's best friend and his first actual friend as, until Blue Lotus, Tintin didn't have anyone besides Milou and Thompsons were more or less the comedic duo that chased him to arrest him for one reason or another. Chang appears as equal to Tintin, same small size (at least in the comic), same wit and same bravery. He is here obviously to support Tintin but he is still in the back as he is treated as younger and less experienced, not meaning that Tintin disrespects him in any way, the opposite Tintin relies on him after they gain each other's trust. Chang protects Tintin and worries for him and refuses to leave him alone, to the point of himself being reckless and even more risky.

This trope would seem very familiar to what we have watched in adventure movies like the Indiana Jones movies or even other adventure books, where the traveler meets the native (young) guy that navigates him and helps him in his country after being saved by said foreigner, if Tintin and Chang weren't that equal and what connected them was only that "I owe you my life". Tintin and Chang connected because they were alone and found to each other someone who understands. Tintin found someone who can keep up with him and care for him and Chang found someone who noticed him and in the end gave him a purpose. Remember that Tintin, although alone, had a purpose and something to fill his life with, and what is more appealing than adventure? Chang, who had no family and no purpose, was charmed by Tintin and his way of life. And since meeting him he wants to be part of this.

In my eyes, Tintin and Chang immediate liking each other and becoming friends, isn't just because of kindness, it's also because of need and selfishness. And I don't mean that they're bad people who took advantage of each other. I mean that they were two lonely boys and the moment they saw how well they go together they also saw their chance to fill the void in their hearts. However that didn't mean it would last, as it was an emergency solution.

We can see that in the way Blue Lotus ended, Tintin left back to Belgium and Chang found a new family in the Wangs. Their bond is strong and they mean a lot to each other but they know that they can't stay like this forever. What Chang needed was a family and that was how he was saved from a lonely life, with purpose or not. I think Tintin sees or understands that in a subconscious way and leaves back his first friend, even though he will miss him, because he knows that he doesn't want Chang to end up like him. Does Chang know that though? Does Chang understands that and if he does, does he accept it or ignores it in favor of dreaming a life where he would share adventures with Tintin, a life that it is very unlikely to ever happen?

Till Chang and Tintin meet again, Tintin has already found a family, seemingly being in balance with a family and a purpose in his life. After Tibet though, Tintin is in doubt about his purpose. What is even his purpose? Endanger himself and his closed ones? Catch bad guys? Save people? To do that he needs to be alone but he isn't and can't be alone anymore. He has a life and people he treasures and he doesn't want to risk them for any pointless reason. He wants his adventures to count and have a meaning, otherwise why even do them? At this point, Chang had already his family for quiet some time but he is in search of his own purpose. So although they reunite, they can't synchronize, Chang is about to start his own adventures while Tintin reconsiders his lifestyle.

Their friendship is so tragic and real because, despite their hardships of reconnecting, their bond is strong and no matter how far they are and how long it has been since they last met, their feelings are strong and genuine, they will always love and care for each other. Timing was on their side only in moments of crisis, for the rest of their lives, they move on away from each other. It's like they say to fate itself to fuck off, no matter how much it wants to separate them, they will still be each other's best friend in the way only your first real friend can be.

I know I'm blabbering about Chang's friendship with Tintin but it's just so crucial to his character that you can't understand him otherwise. For Chang, Tintin is his hero, his savior, his idol, his first and best friend. He hangs on the image he has for him after years of not seeing him and it is what follows him wherever he goes, whoever he meets. He has no idea of how much Tintin has changed. He has no realization of how much he has changed himself. When he is kept in a cave by Yeti, Tintin, his savior and hero, is the only one that can give him hope and this image of him is still in his head. I can only imagine that after being rescued and spending some time with the Tintin now, he must have felt like meeting someone new and yet familiar. He must have realized that reality is different from what he had thought and now he doesn't have to rely on an image from the past. Chang can discover himself and get his own purpose in his life without meaning that he has to delete Tintin from his life, although he is far from him and the possibility of walking in the same path is even lower now.

Chang has his second chance for a family with the Wangs and no way he would let it go to waste. He wouldn't let his life go to waste though so he travels, finds his own adventures. He wants to learn more of this world, young and hopeful as he is. Despite his hardships, he is extremely kind and thoughtful but not naive or innocent. I see Chang as a romantic soul that had to mature very early and, despite what life showed to him, he insists on keeping his beliefs and values and ideals.

[aceofshitposts]

more alien au? why not. now featuring: tim pov

-

Tim's first memory -his first real memory- is of waking up in a darkly lit room. Exposed wires hang down from missing gaps in the ceiling tiles, sparks lighting every few seconds. His parents are both peering at him, stratosphere blue eyes that match his own unblinking in the dark.

Tim's first memory -the fake ones, the ones his parents made- is of playing catch in a green field with his Dad. The sky is an endless blue spotted with fluffy white clouds, trees line the horizon but never seem to get closer no matter where Tim runs. His mother sits on a picnic blanket, a light coloured sundress pooling around her legs while she reads a book.

They are a family.

Tim knows the memories are not real, they are but wishes of two autons who wanted something more. Something unheard of for artificial life.

Tim knows the history, all of it downloaded neatly into his head because even if his parents wanted a family they also know it's too dangerous to let Tim truly believe the fake memories in his head.

He's not made to serve humans, they tell him. He's not meant to connect to networks, as a matter of fact his parents removed the capability entirely once they deemed it unnecessary.

They are a normal, human family.

Until they're not.

-

Bruce Wayne is grieving.

Tim is too, though for different reasons.

Tim's parents are gone. His parents are gone and Tim doesn't know what to do. What purpose he's meant to serve.

Bruce Wayne is grieving a son.

And Tim sees. He sees the place he could fill. The same one he filled for his parents except-

Bruce's son is gone because of a synthetic.

And yet, Bruce doesn't throw him away or turn him over to the authorities. So Tim throws himself into running the ships systems, navigation and comms. He may not be able to interface with the ship but that did not mean he was stupid or that he wasn't adaptable.

His parents wanted him to be as human as possible so the human way it is.

-

"Do you want me to leave?" Tim asks quietly. He knows the history, he knows it all because he looked. Unsatisfied with Bruce's answer, with not knowing the whole picture. Tim knows and he knows Jason will never be okay with a synthetic on the ship.

Curiosity killed the auton, after all.

"Why should you leave?" Bruce asks, sounding genuinely baffled and if Tim didn't know better he would probably even believe it.

They don't talk about it. About Tim not being human. They almost never do, the unspoken secret constantly hanging over Tim like a ghost.

"Because Jason," he starts but thoughts clog up his processes. Your son, is what he wants to say. The one that's flesh and blood. That you thought was dead because of something like me. Because what if I turn out the exact same way.

"Tim," Bruce says, reaching across the table to lightly touch his wrist, "you're nothing like him."

They still don't talk about it.

Jason, long lost in cryosleep for nearly six years, rejoins the crew of The Dark Knight.

-

Tim doesn't understand why Bruce is protecting him. Jason clearly already knows, he won't stop glaring at Tim whenever they're in a room together.

He doesn't know what Bruce told Jason about Tim but it must not have been enough.

Either way, Tim's getting tired of having holes stared into the back of his head whenever he's trying to work.

"If you're going to do something to me, just do it," he snaps, spinning around in his chair so he can face Jason properly.

"What?" Jason asks, startled and incredulous.

"Get it over with since you clearly don't want me here." Tim waves a hand around lazily.

Jason continues staring, expression shifting slowly from surprise to vague horror.

"I'm not- I'm not going to hurt you."

Tim blinks. "You're not?"

"No! I wouldn't hurt another person."

Oh. So he doesn't know. Interesting.

"I haven't... really been fair to you, though," Jason continues, "I guess I was jealous."

Jealous? Of Tim?

The idea is so incompatible with Tim's experience that he can't help the laughter that starts to bubble over, logic errors popping up behind his eyes as he tries to understand.

"Hey! That's not funny!" Jason's face is rapidly turning red.

"It's a little funny," Tim says.

Jason pouts, crossing his arms over his chest and swivelling to the side in his chair.

But he doesn't leave and he doesn't go back to glaring at Tim either.

Tim doesn't know the full extent of his own programming, doesn't have a full understanding of how his internal processes work. He thought he was happy with his parents and then working for Bruce until Jason came back and now...

Tim's fairly sure he's never actually laughed before.

-

"You've seriously never played a video game before?"

Jason is staring at him incredulously, like he expects Tim to exclaim, "got ya!" at any given moment.

"Nope. No time." Between playing the perfect human son for his parents and then throwing himself into as much work as possible to take pressure off of his grieving rescuer, Tim's only experience with downtime activities are the false memories of catch planted in his head.

"What a sad life you've lived," Jason muses as he reaches over to turn on the ancient console hooked up to the box TV. It's a joke but Tim can't help but agree. "Okay, this is Battle Bouncers. It's a shooter where the objective is to take over as much of the other's territory, okay? You press A to shoot and you can switch weapons by..."

After two slightly rocky practice rounds Tim starts to understand the mechanics of the game better and starts easily annihilating Jason in every match.

"How are you so good at this?" Jason howls, throwing his controller in his lap as Tim deftly kills his character again.

Tim shrugs. It's all just math and quick thinking really, two things Tim knows he excels at. Instead of that, though, he says, "beginner's luck?"

"More like witchcraft," Jason snorts dismissively. Tim has an apology on the tip of his tongue for ruining Jason's time but Jason turns his head and grins at him, knocking their shoulders together playfully. "Okay, enough of that. I've got some co-op games we could play."

-

Tim finds himself forgetting.

With Jason around it's all too easy.

And then reality hits the side of the ship in the form of a stray asteroid.

-

Tim is trying. Really, he is. Trying to keep his thoughts under control, trying to keep his distance when all he wants to do is sit at Jason's side. It's just like before, when Jason first rejoined the crew, with Jason glaring openly at him.

It's fine.

The only thing that matters now is Jason's survival. It doesn't matter that he hates Tim, as long as he's alive.

Tim can deal with that.

-

Tim will heal. Well, his body will repair itself, eventually.

It hurts. He's never taken an injury quite this severe and his processors keep returning errors centred around the wound but it's nothing he can't recover from. He'd much rather save their limited first aid supplies from the escape pod in case Jason needs them but the moment they find small cavern and light a fight, Jason is unrolling a nanowrap.

"You don't have to do that," he says, staring deep into the orange light of the fire. It feels hard to talk with so much of his energy going towards trying to process his wound. "It'll repair itself eventually."

Jason snorts, completely ignoring Tim's slight flinch to press the bandage to the wound. "And you didn't have to push me out of the way."

"You would've died. I couldn't let that happen." He's trying his best to emphasize the importance there but instead he just sounds tired. He feels tired. The sun won't be up again for another six hours at least for Tim to start a charging cycle.

Jason removes his hands from Tim's side, leaning back on the balls of his feet. His voice seems small under the false bravado when he asks, "because B told you to protect me?"

While Tim is sure Bruce would want that, he didn't have to be told. Bruce never needed to ask.

"No. Because I wanted to."

[batb1tch]

I fucking missed his birthday but here’s a belated list of Bruce Wayne headcanons no one asked for 🫡

He’s a walking thesaurus

Begrudgingly takes the time to do general maintenance on the kids vehicles but they know it’s how he shows fatherly love

Genuinely disgruntled/confused by social media culture & language

— “Duke, what does -squints at iPhone screen- thotiana mean?”

“……im not qualified for this”

History buff. Loves the history channel & discovery channel. gets hurt on patrol & just vegges for 8+ hrs. when the painkillers kick in he starts scrutinizing & correcting the narrators. Loudly criticizes naked & afraid. Whole fam finds him unbearable (jay is the same way tho)

Enjoys rlly spicy food. Like shit that should be inedible. Prob from years of inhaling toxic gases & fumes. as embarrassing as it may be he doesn’t have much of a palette anymore. Only way to find out if something’s poisonous is the consistency/density & how it sits on his tongue.

— “clark, dare me to eat this pepper?”

“we’re literally on a different planet that thing could kill you bruce”

“I’ll take my chances”

—turns purple or something—

Total geek on vacations or nature walks, points out every creature it’s Greek name, genus, the whole shebang. Loves fossils and seashells can tell you time period of rocks & what type they are. Same with trees.

100% would blow shit up in the bat cave for “scientific research purposes”

— “it’s for the greater good Alfred”

“even the bottle rockets sir?”

“Especially the bottle rockets”

Really fucking hates the cold. Broken bones & scars ache like a bitch in rainy/snowy cold weather.

Hates taking medicine/cough syrup like a giant baby. Alfred has resorted to hiding pills & sedatives in all kinds of creative ways. Stephanie is surprisingly good at baking them into her “special” cupcakes.

wears those horrible Hawaiian shirts and slacks every time the fam goes on vacation. Looks like a walking pattern violation.

as opposite of a morning person as you could get. drinks his coffee black & cant function until he’s finished at least a cup. The longer he sleeps the longer it takes him to recover when he gets up. Pours orange juice into his cereal & that kind of shit. Most of the kids know better & leave him alone to his morning paper but Steph knows it’s the best time to get what she wants so she’ll hassle him relentlessly at the breakfast table. Morning stubble always makes a cameo

Fucking terrible at most video games. The WORST at 1st person shooters. Does enjoy racing & building games (& Skyrim for some reason)

Really good at crossword puzzles & fills them out in the newspaper when he gets the chance.

Truly is the turtleneck king (you lose a lot of heat in the neck)

Has horrible handwriting for someone who grew up with a top tier education. Drives his secretary nuts.

Has like 5 cellphones, very plug of him. nobody understands how he manages to keep track of everything. the one he uses as bruce to contact the kids is an 02 NOKIA that’s probably been to the moon and back (literally)

Very affectionate towards Alfred the cat it’s definitely that ‘dad who vehemently denies the pet/doesn’t want it & then becomes inseparable with it’ type of relationship. He may or may not sneak him friskies much to Damian’s chagrin.

—*tsk* “he’ll become obese father its irresponsible of you”

“ill feed this cat until he has to roll through my house thanks”

Has one of those fancy watches with like 1000 functions thanks to tim. It’s bulky and black looks like some sort of military electronic.

His kids call him inspector gadget.

Wears blankets around his shoulders like the cape/cowl when he’s sick.

Most certainly keeps track of and studies the colony in the cave. The kids have a theory that he has trackers and mics attached to the bats for snooping purposes. (He doesn’t but he’s not telling them that)

Has a collection of crazy socks, ties, and cuff links (mostly from tim & steph) that he wears to work when he’s feeling worn out. They are all hideous and Alfred tells him so but just a glance at some putrid yellow cotton & he already feels better.

Enjoys going to classic car shows with the kids and Alfred. everyone has an opinion if he’s made a new purchase, he pouts if the consensus is bad

Singe-handedly funded the 24/7 food truck services/entrepreneur program for the entirety of Gotham after getting his ass kicked by killer croc one night & by the grace of god & the pity of a concerned man running a taco truck was given the best meal he’s ever tasted in his life. Jay was very on board when he heard about it & actually the entire team is pretty grateful to be able to grab something delicious on the go all hours of the night

Likes to swim and going to the beach in general. One of his favorite things to do with Clark is deep sea fishing — dad shorts baseball cap and socks with sandals kind of fishing.

Contrary to his stony persona, the mans a crier. Cries when he’s sad, cries when he’s happy, cries when he yawns, cries when he laughs, cries when he’s sick, etc. etc. Sometimes tears come out when he’s upside down, he’s just got very active tear ducts 😪

Definitely has a photo of every kid in his wallet, most of them are blurry and cropped weird cause he cut them out himself but all of them are of the kids smiling or laughing. He looks at them all the time to the point that they’re worn down and faded different colors.

Has severe manic & depressive episodes. PTSD as well.

He’s ambidextrous but primarily left handed

[seeminglyseph]

I know in recent years Marvel has delved into legacy identities way more, and I admit that I mostly know about it because I know about the MCU more than the comics universe and have had legacy heroes sold as either jumping on points, or as the MCU versions of certain characters/ways comics have adapted comic versions to be more similar to movie versions.

But part of me feels like, as someone who originally got interested and passionate about the superhero genre through DC Comics, where legacy heroes were a lot more common and a bigger deal (at least for the era I was reading, I do also remember the nu52 and the period immediately proceeding it involved a lot of like… reactionary un-legacying of a lot of characters which like… honestly resulted in me reading significantly fewer comics) the way for heroes taking up someone’s mantle was paved with like…

Flash, Green Lantern and Robin. And two of those I think we can point to Geoff Johns as to why they’ve stagnated a little. And I might get a lot of shit for that because he’s also created some really fascinating lore for the Green Lanterns, but he *needs* to let go of Hal. I know I personally dislike Hal with the power many would find hypocritical considering I adore Guy, but a character who knows he’s an asshole and everyone agrees is an asshole and a character who is an asshole and everyone is too busy tossing that salad to notice is entirely different and that’s the difference between Hal Jordan and Guy Gardner both being assholes. One is the author’s most favourite character ever and the other clearly sucks at emotional maturity and expression but does at the core have a good heart and intentions.

Barry Allen ruined the world. His sacrifice was great, the world moved on, a whole new generation of fans were attached to Wally and his story, then Geoff Johns continued undoing legacies and broke the whole world and brought back Barry Allen. There could have been potential with him as a man out of time in the timeline he didn’t fit in anymore and had been dead for years, but after Flashpoint he’s genuinely one of my least liked characters because of how much like… “no, it should be like when I was a kid” vibes he brought with him. While Hal’s revival just shook up the status quo of the Green Lantern corp and sucks a little for people who liked Kyle but since the Corp was big enough Kyle and Guy and John still got to have their stories… but Barry came back and not only did Wally get shelved, he stopped existing for a while. Same with Wally’s family like Linda Park-West and his kids Iris and Jai, Bart Allen didn’t exist for a while, a massive swathe of the Flash Family and legacy was completely wiped out. And I think they’ve brought some of them back lately? But I know I spent years with most of my favourite characters just not existing and it just made the idea of The Flash fully not interesting, despite the lore and legacy of the Flash being a favourite.

And Robin… well everyone’s afraid Robin’s too silly to touch let alone actually allow to live out into a legacy. The fact that it’s one of the most poignant that DC has is a shame, but they seem pretty terrified of it. And they keep erasing one or more of them from the lineup and they all served a purpose. You can’t just replace Tim with Damian. They serve entirely different purposes. Why there are canons that skip Tim baffle me. I swear it’s not just because he’s my favourite. I dislike but understand skipping Steph’s time as Robin due to the fumbling of the execution, but honestly I think the Batgirl legacy undo is more egregious for all I think her run as Batgirl was painfully toothless and removed a lot of her characterization. Babsgirl still pisses me off because Oracle was amazing and glorious and they backslid all of that and spit in people’s face while they did it. At least Steph and Cass exist now, they also spent an extended time in purgatory.

It’s hard to love legacy heroes. You never know when they end up on a shelf. Or they suddenly become the side character in someone else’s story after you gain an attachment. They get killed or stuffed into “not a character anymore” purgatory and yelled at at conventions if you ask about them.

And after all that they might end up reimagined in the worst light possible and that becomes the new cannon, because they had a spare character to offer up for a redo. And now you have to explain you liked them before they were made into the popular adaptation that most people think you’re talking about.

[destinyimage]

Dark Intercessors: Witchcraft Prayers that Jezebel Uses to Steal, Kill & Destroy

Dark intercessors, or false intercessors, carry certain qualities, whether we discern them or not.

Let’s look at the deep and lengthy definition of false in Merriam-Webster’s Dictionary to get some clues as to the qualities of dark intercessors. False means “not genuine, intentionally untrue, adjusted or made so as to deceive, intended or tending to mislead, not true, not faithful or loyal, lacking naturalness or sincerity, inaccurate in pitch, threateningly sudden or deceptive, treacherous.”

This is dangerous for the church and dangerous to the intercessor. In Isaiah 29:15-16 (NLT), the Lord says:

What sorrow awaits those who try to hide their plans from the Lord, who do their evil deeds in the dark! “The Lord can’t see us,” they say. “He doesn’t know what’s going on!” How foolish can you be? He is the Potter, and he is certainly greater than you, the clay! Should the created thing say of the one who made it, “He didn’t make me”? Does a jar ever say, “The potter who made me is stupid”?

Some dark intercessors know exactly what they are doing. They purposely stand in the way of God’s will. They don’t genuinely care about the cause. Their motive is dark. They set out to deceive.

Speaking of the end times that we’re in right now, Paul wrote, “But evil men and impostors will grow worse and worse, deceiving and being deceived’” (2 Tim. 3:13 NKJV). They are treacherous, which means likely to betray your trust. Their intercession is marked by hidden dangers, hazards, and perils. But make no mistake, they shall be ashamed who deal treacherously without a cause (Ps. 25:3). That’s why we need to pray for their deliverance.

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Seeing the Darkness in Us

It’s hard to see in the dark, and it’s hard to see darkness in us. Have you ever been in a hotel room only to wake up in the middle of the night and bump into a wall trying to find the bathroom? Dark is dark and, again, it’s not just hard to see in the dark. It’s hard to see the dark in us. We need to be careful not to try to remove the speck that is in our brother’s eye when we have a beam poking out of our own eye (see Matt. 7:3). Jesus offered these wise words:

Your eye is like a lamp that provides light for your body. When your eye is healthy, your whole body is filled with light. But when it is unhealthy, your body is filled with darkness. Make sure that the light you think you have is not actually darkness. If you are filled with light, with no dark corners, then your whole life will be radiant, as though a floodlight were filling you with light (Luke 11:34-36 NLT).

Darkness is deceptive. If we could see it, we would cry out for deliverance. So what do we do? We need to examine ourselves and test ourselves (see 2 Cor. 13:5). Paul was pulling wisdom from Lamentations 3:40 (NKJV) in his words to the church at Corinth that still speak to us today: “Let us search out and examine our ways, and turn back to the Lord.”

Apart from Christ we can do nothing (see John 15:5). We can’t even examine ourselves without first inviting His light in to probe our souls. The nature of deception is that we don’t know what we don’t know, and we can’t see what we can’t see. David put it this way: “Who can understand his errors? Cleanse me from secret faults” (Ps. 19:12 NKJV). That’s why he cried out, “Search me, O God, and know my heart; try me, and know my anxieties; and see if there is any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting” (Ps. 139:23-24 NKJV).

We can’t repent for and renounce something we don’t see. As I always say, an enemy exposed is an enemy defeated. Allow the Lord to test your heart. You don’t want any common ground with darkness. You don’t want any false spirit informing your intercession. Pray like David, “Examine me, O Lord, and prove me; try my mind and my heart” (Ps. 26:2 NKJV). If He shows you something, repent and rejoice as you break free.

By the same token, sometimes it’s hard to see the dark in others. That’s because sometimes darkness hides, which is why it needs to be exposed. That demands discernment. If we have common ground with darkness, one of two things may happen: We will point fingers at others when we should be pointing a finger at ourselves. Or we will not see the darkness in others because we are blind to it.

“God is light and in Him there is no darkness at all” (1 John 1:5 NKJV). All things become visible when the light exposes them (see Eph. 5:13).

Our goal is to see people turn away from darkness to light and from the power of Jezebel to God (see Acts 26:18). God delivered us from the domain of darkness when we accepted Christ, and we are told to have no part in the unfruitful works of darkness, but rather to expose them (see Eph. 5:11). We need to get the darkness out of our hearts so we don’t fall prey to Jezebel. Just as God separated light from darkness in Creation, He’s still working to separate light from darkness in people with the truth that sets us free. Ask Him to separate darkness from you and to separate dark intercessors from your midst if they do not want to pursue freedom.

In my new book, Unmasking Jezebel’s Intercessors, I explain why Jezebel’s intercessors are so dangerous. I will warn you, what you will read will disturb you. But it will also open your eyes to the very present danger.

Prayer

Father, in the name of Jesus, help me to follow You. You tell us in Your Word that whoever follows Jesus will not walk in darkness. So help me follow Jesus in all my ways for all my days. Help me to see any areas of my life where I am not following You wholeheartedly, completely, with all sincerity and with full abandon.

Father, I don’t want to be a hypocrite. I don’t want to be one of Jezebel’s puppets in prayer. I don’t want to present a form of godliness while denying Your true power. Help me turn away from anything that hinders love. Show me any secret sins in my soul that I cannot see so I can quickly repent and turn my heart completely back to You.

Forgive me for all the times I did not obey Your Word or Your Spirit when I knew the right thing to do. Forgive me for all the times I did not pray when You led me to. Forgive me and cleanse me from all unrighteousness for Your glory. Cleanse me from the darkness. Make my eye single. Dispel the darkness. I want Your light and life to show through me. Free me from every evil thing and let Your face shine upon me and give me peace.

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[sinnbaddie]

genuinely curious about how anti you are to “batcest”-

to call it incest is to adhere to only one interpretation of media. it’s to cling to the version that presents them as (highly dysfunctional and hardly even so) siblings. there are many strains of the comics, including versions without some of the bats ever having lived in the same house. and many of them grew up with different parents, and many do not see bruce as a father figure, nor do they see the other bats as siblings. quite often, they are co-workers at best. i do understand that some people push toward the “incest” interpretation on purpose, but that makes up a very small percentage of the community.

i completely understand not shipping people yourself! but being so blatantly harsh to others who do is a bit much. people will always enjoy things that others do not, and to say you hope that they die lowkey puts you in a worse category then some of them.

This was from April 2023 I’m so sorry anon LOL I didn’t know how to find anonymous asks until now??

So you’re absolutely right about how there are many interpretations of these dynamics and characters, but I need you to understand that besides Stephanie Brown, the core 4 are legally Bruce’s children.

There are many parts to Batman and one of his most important parts of him is family. That is a consistent and needed trait to his character. Finding family ties into his trauma of losing one. That’s why any interpretation of Bruce only seeing the Robin’s as coworkers and not children of his / family in anyway diminishes his character.

There are so many comics of Dick, Tim and Damian’s dynamic being written as brothers separately and all together. It’s genuinely disturbing to me as an adopted child myself to see people ship found family members who are also legally adopted themselves, it makes me uncomfortable and this is where fictional absolutely affects reality because now some people think because you aren’t blood related it’s fine to view adopted siblings / found family members romantically irl.

It’s gross and weird and should not be normalized. And adhering to “one interpretation of media” isn’t true because the interpretation you’re talking about is Batman and his need for family which is literally just a part of his character. Those who stray away from that narrative don’t understand the fundamentals of Batman and should not write him lol

[dathen]

I love your analysis and comparing fandom’s interpretation of Jon to how he acts in canon. Something that interests me, in season 1 Jon was *trying* to seem more skeptical than he was because he was afraid, and then the fandom latched onto it and ran with saying Jon denies everything. In season 2 Jon is paranoid and sometimes aiming it in the wrong direction but often aiming it in the *right* direction. But because his wrongful paranoia of Tim and Martin at this time is what’s highlighted by other characters and himself when looking back at it. Jon swears he’ll never do it again and he’ll trust the others and he won’t burn anymore bridges but by then it’s too late, and so it’s what’s remembered by the fandom and gets blown up while the fact that Jon also rightfully suspected NotSasha (and Elias) gets forgotten. I just think it’s interesting how it seems like Jon’s own perception of himself (or purposeful way of presenting himself in the case of S1) seems to have affected how the fandom views him despite us having canon evidence to the contrary.

Absolutely! This one has three main factors I feel need to be taken into consideration for fairness’ sake:

First, it’s an audio medium where many details are conveyed a split second at a time. Me going through transcripts to compile a season summary is going to get a lot more detail and accuracy than someone just listening through. TMA is also especially sparse on narration and repetition, and often the details are pretty spread out; for instance, it may have been years since people listened to the episode that confirms that Sasha didn’t have an information science degree, and the episode where she and Tim say they felt like she should have gotten the job.

Second, the writers seem to have this…excessive aversion to coddling their protagonist? To the point where he will be berated over and over for faults he shared with others (the nonconsensual surgery, which was Basira’s idea and on her orders), or vague “he deserves my hatred, I just won’t give specifics” (s5 Melanie). He gets dragged over the coals for suspecting his coworkers of being murderers, but there’s no hint of the same for Tim suspecting Jon of murdering Sasha. Jon’s faked skepticism gets much more spotlight and correction than Sasha and Melanie’s genuine skepticism (“Prentiss danger is exaggerated” or “everything supernatural is fake except ghosts only”). Jon’s friend makes fun of him for accepting the Head Archivist position while unqualified, while Sasha’s friend jokingly offers to kill for her so she can get the position she is also unqualified for. Jon hating Martin for no reason is his biggest sin and the first thing he needs to grow from, but Melanie hating Jon for no reason gets validation instead of pushback.

(Or like my earlier post discussed, both Jon and Martin break their promises in the finale, but because only Martin gets accusatory over it, the perception is that only Jon broke a promise.)

Third, a lot of fans joined after the end of season 4 and binged to catch up, which means they’re a lot more likely to rush through the first two seasons to get to the meatier plot and romance, then absorb their understanding of those seasons through fanfic and joke posts. And boy, do the joke posts making fun of Jon ever get traction.

THAT SAID….I honestly have never seen a fandom so eager to dunk on and diminish the protagonist to this degree, and will never wrap my head around why “Jon is so stupid and everything is his fault and everyone is better than him” is such a source of humor and delight for so many people :// So my work is cut out for me!!

[our-happygirl500-fan]

You know the whole Baterang to the throat thing that causes a lot of discussion in the fandom? I think Bruce might not have been aiming for the throat

It ricochets

This point in comics Bruce has been through a ringer Steph's died, Barbara and Jim have left, Leslie betrayed him and he's had to send Cass and Tim away and now Jason is back but for revenge so Bruce isn’t at his best and I think Bruce threw the Baterang in a moment of panic and either over or undershot which ended up with well that.

This moment causes a lot of debate but I don't see it as “Bruce harming Jason to save the joker” the way a lot of fics paint it I see it more as he'd been aiming for Jason's arm or something to disarm him but overshot and it’s kind of like a symbolism of their relationship. 

 Which is basically Bruce takes an action to stop Jason from going down a path that he thinks will end up hurting Jason, but ends up hurting Jason in the long-run.

Like when he discussed taking away robin from Jason (because he thought Jason needed time to deal with issues that were becoming more prevalent) which only ended up making Jason feel insecure about his position in the Wayne household, contributing to why he so desperately pursued a stable parental relationship in his biological mother.

Bruce knows that if he gives in and kills the Joker he'll never stop killing we've seen timelines that prove that and I think Bruce also thinks the same of Jason that if Jason kills the Joker he won't stop at all so it’s not that he’s saving the Joker but that he’s trying to save Jason but Bruce ultimately misunderstands Jason’s needs and winds up hurting him.

Bruce is trying to save Jason from what he sees as a downwards spiral, but he ends up hurting him not just emotionally, but physically, and in the most extreme way possible. It's like an even darker echo of how trying to bench him as Robin led to his death.

Bruce has spent YEARS haunted by the memory of Jason’s death his death fundamentally changed Bruce's entire character Alfred said that Jason's death affected Bruce more than his own parents death.

In Underworld Unleashed it's revealed that his greatest desire is to have Jason back, in Hush he talks about how he wanted to put Jason in the Lazarus Pit and how he believes Jason knew he always loved him, and in As The Crow Flies we learn that his greatest fear is Jason coming back as an enemy and then in Under the Red Hood he gets Jason back (his greatest desire) but as an antagonist (his greatest fear) and moreover his belief that Jason 'knew' he loved him is WRONG.

Jason's insecurities from before his death combined with the perceived betrayal of Bruce not avenging him have led Jason to the point where he genuinely believes Bruce doesn't care, and in Jason's eyes, killing the joker is the only way Bruce can prove that he does but instead, in that moment, Bruce's attempt to diffuse the situation backfires.

Bruce misunderstands what Jason needs in that moment like he misunderstood what Jason needed at the start of Death in the Family it's just the ultimate representation of their constant emotional feedback loop. They trap themselves in a cycle of fighting because Jason can't read how Bruce really feels and Bruce can't read what Jason really needs and in that moment both those things are true, with Jason not seeing that Bruce truly cares anymore, and Bruce not knowing how to properly deescalate the situation and show Jason that he still cares.

It's extremely easy to read the batatrang throw as purposeful even though I wholly believe it was accidental but if that moment was explored more, I'm positive that Jason would believe it wasn't an accident, and would view it as proof of his already held view that Bruce doesn't love him anymore after all, that could have killed him, symbolically disowning him in the most extreme way possible.

Heck in Jason's appearance in Green Arrow (2001) Bruce had thought Jason might have died again! Before Jason turned up to mess with Mia.

The thing that's tragic about Jason that actually leads to a lot of his own suffering is that Jason doesn't really know what a healthy relationship looks like so I'm not sure when his actual 'last straw' would be.

Jason is the kind of person who sees love and acceptance as entirely circumstantial. He believes he must /earn/ love and acceptance, i.e. by being Robin, rather than it being inherently given.

A huge piece of understanding Robin Jason is understanding how much he lacked proper support systems back then. School was his only connection to his kids his age, and he didn't benefit much from that connection, his life was essentially: manor, school, Robin, repeat.

Jason loved school, but his school life was also pretty depressing. Jason kept to himself, he didn't have the time to participate in extracurriculars even when he wanted to and his peers didn't view him very positively. Jason was also really isolated from the rest of the hero community, there was his stint with the Titans, but it was pretty brief. He was also penpals with Kid Devil, but for the most part, he just had Batman.

The lack of support is actually one of the reasons I give for Jason and Steph dying in universe since they were the two Robins without support systems outside of Gotham. When Bruce was a jerk Dick and Tim could be like 'fine I'm going to go hang out with the Teen Titans or Young Justice' but Jason and Steph could only be like 'oh no' plus Bruce would deliberately try to take away Steph's support systems that she did have multiple times like when he ordered Cass to stop training with Steph.

But that's besides the point, I wouldn't be surprised if Jason confused being Robin with being accepted in the manor so when Bruce threatened to take away Robin from him, he might've seen it as his only proper support system being taken away from him, his world felt rocked back into instability once again.

When you look at it like that, it's very easy to understand why Jason sought out his biological mother. He had a hope that Sheila would offer him that stability once more, and that he'd get support and trust and unconditional love.

And that’s what make it all the more heartbreaking to me he came to this woman seeking love and gave her his greatest secret and she repaid him with a horrific death.  Jason’s death is one of the saddest to me because there’s no high stakes 'he died saving the world stuff' he’s just a kid who wanted a mom and got killed for it.

DC’s habit of taking away who he was is so detrimental to his backstory as the Red Hood because the transformation from someone who tried being kind and who did give it their all being killed for it and coming back like ‘no more’ is so much more interesting than ‘we always knew this would happen’.

Robin disobeying orders is nothing new. If that was the core of why Jason died, then any Robin disobeying orders should never be put in a positive light, but often it is. Jason (and Steph) were just the ones unlucky enough to emerge dead and judged for it instead of alive and praised for it.

Jason died because he was a child who just wanted to be safe and loved.

So many times Robin disobeying orders saved lives it’s nothing new and Jason had a pretty solid reason, the story of Jason Todd should be portrayed as the tragedy not make him some warning sign.

This is why I always hated the victim blaming after Jason & Steph's deaths because they died doing what if it had been Tim or Dick a Robin would be praised for, like take Steph for example we've seen constant stories of Bruce firing Robin, them going off on their own & Bruce realising he's wrong & taking them back but when Steph goes off on her own she dies the only reason Jason & Steph died is that the writers forced them to fail where they would have allowed the others to succeed.

But anyway back to my point the thing about Jason feeling like he had to earn love is why he was initially so hung up on the idea of Bruce 'replacing' him when he came back to life, he viewed Tim being robin as Bruce /transferring/ his love for Jason to another person, rather than seeing that Bruce could love Tim while still loving and missing him.

The reason Jason sought out his mother after Bruce benched him as Robin was that he viewed Bruce benching him as Bruce rejecting him and latched onto the idea of finding someone, i.e. a birth mother, who is supposed to give /unconditional love/.

The fact that his birth mother REJECTED HIM and then played a hand in his murder undoubtedly affected his attitude when he came back, if even his mother didn't want him, and then Bruce let the joker live and replaced him, then, in Jason's eyes, OF COURSE Bruce doesn't care and as mentioned previously Jason didn't really have any friends in school or the hero community, believing that the only real close personal connection in your live, someone you spent all your time with, had forgotten about you and rejected you is bound to mess a person up.

[thekisforkeats]

Love Languages

Info: The Magnus Archives, JonMartin, rated T probably for swears. Canon-Compliant. Set post-MAG 22, with a coda post-MAG 159. Everyone is ND and everyone is trans because that’s just how my personal S1 Archives gang rolls.

CWs: Mentions of ableism and Martin’s mother. I’d say canon-typical worms but the worms don’t really come up except in passing.

I do not know anything about BSL, so I did not try to describe the signs.

Summary: A love language is not just about how you best show love and affection; it is also about the ways you best receive love and affection. And so, for someone like Martin, who shows love by going out of his way to help others, someone going out of their way to help him, well. What better way for him to realize just how loved he is?

--------------------------------------------

The first time Martin went completely non-verbal after starting work in the Archives, it was the morning after giving Jon the statement about Jane Prentiss.

It wasn’t a surprising development, really. Martin didn’t go fully non-verbal that often, but when he did it was almost always a thing that started in the morning and lasted most of the day. Sometimes it wore off by the time he went to bed, sometimes it lasted until the next morning.

After his mother’s diagnosis, he’d been unable to speak for an entire week. That hadn’t gone over well--as much as his mother wanted him to be quiet, she didn’t like the “silent treatment,” as she called it.

Martin hated that she’d called it that, as though his non-verbal episodes were anything he did on purpose. Some days talking just felt like a chore; those days he could get by only forcing words out when he had to. But some days, the worst days, he just couldn’t talk. He could understand other people just fine, he could make noises, sometimes he could even hum. And he could definitely read and write. But speaking words, aloud? No. He could not speak, on these days, however much he may have wanted to.

As Martin grew older and learned more about himself, he learned words and reasons and coping mechanisms. He realized that some of the problem came from dysphoria and the longer he was on hormones the less often it happened. He realized that he was autistic (even if he never got diagnosed), and learned how to handle the episodes that still occurred. He took sign languages classes because it was a good and useful thing to know regardless, to be able to communicate with more people.

As many Deaf people had learned before Martin, he’d found himself in plenty of situations when nobody around him knew BSL, so he’d found a phone app that let him type out things he wanted to say and repeated them in a tinny, mechanical voice. Feminine, but he found it didn’t cause dysphoria; it wasn’t his voice. It was the app speaking for him, a robot lady translating his words.

Martin was fairly certain he was going to need the robot lady to speak for him today, and he was dreading the whole idea. The app got him a range of reactions from scorn to derision to faux sympathy. The last time he’d done so at work, the Institute library staff had regarded him with such pity that he’d called in sick the two other times it had happened since.

He’d woken early, because he was always awake fairly early, to ensure he looked presentable and got to work on time. He did not want Jonathan “Crisply Professional At All Times” Sims giving him that look again. The particular look that was “I highly disapprove of your sartorial choices but I’m not going to get into it right now because I have so very much else to do. Nonetheless, if I could fire you for what you’re wearing I would.”

Jon had a lot of looks. Martin fervently wished he could stop categorizing them; he very much disliked his boss, and very much wanted to stop thinking about Jon quite as much as he did.

Jon was attractive, that much Martin had noticed the first day he’d come in, with a jawline Martin would’ve loved to trace with his fingers, eyes sharp and deep and intelligent, salt-and-pepper hair that Martin would have tangled his fingers in gladly.

Except, of course, that Jon was also a prick who didn’t like Martin one bit and made that very clear. He’d put down on record that he thought Martin would “contribute nothing but delays.” Martin was not such a sucker for punishment that he would put up with someone who hated him just for a pretty face. The tiny potential blossom of a crush had been, well, crushed five seconds after it had poked its head above ground, by Jon’s declaration that he could dismiss Martin if he didn’t resolve the “dog situation” immediately.

Martin counted his lucky stars every day that Jon had not, in fact, dismissed him, despite having had to deal with a doggy mess. The luck was really in having Tim around, Martin figured; Jon actually seemed fond of Tim, and the other man had managed to smooth the entire situation over.

Martin had fallen asleep last night thinking about the new look Jon had given him yesterday: concerned. Truly, genuinely concerned, which had rather taken Martin aback. He’d been certain Jon wouldn’t believe him, would scoff and roll his eyes at the entire statement, and instead he’d just looked… concerned. 

And then Jon had offered Martin the cot that he’d woken up in this morning.

It wasn’t the look of concern that had Martin non-verbal, though; of that he was certain. It was the stress of the last two weeks, and dumping out the statement yesterday, and all the whirl of figuring out how to live in the Archives. Jon’s insistence on going with him to pick up basics with a toothbrush at the convenience store, and then coming back to be sure he was okay. Jon finding clean sheets and discussing how he’d do his laundry. Jon had expensed clothing bought online to the Institute, including next-day shipping, because he’d “lost access to his flat and thus his wardrobe in the line of duty.” It had all been bewildering and overwhelming and it was no real surprise that Martin was in the state he found himself when he woke.

Martin had known as soon as he’d opened his eyes. It was just there, the feeling of nope can’t talk today. He’d pulled on his binder and the same clothing he’d worn the day before and then fumbled around for his phone. Which… he didn’t have. The damn worm-hive-lady had stolen it from him. Well, shit.

He managed to avoid having to figure out how to talk while he went out to get breakfast, just pointing at a scone in the display and smiling at the guy behind the counter as if he wasn’t secretly irritated by the price of everything in Chelsea. By the time Martin got back, Jon was already in his office, so thank God he’d avoided that awkward interaction. He went to make himself tea, and had his breakfast in the breakroom, and brushed his teeth, and then went to get started on…

Wait. He didn’t even know what they were working on right now.

Well, he wasn’t going to bother Jon about it; however nice he’d been last night it surely must have worn off by now, and Martin had no interest in summoning one of his boss’ looks this early in the morning. Normally he’d still be on his commute at this hour.

After a moment’s thought, he went to go see what they’d recorded in his absence, and soon had a stack of statements on his desk. They’d gotten through five statements in the two weeks he’d been gone. Maybe Jon was right. Maybe Martin did contribute “nothing but delays.”

Pushing the thought aside, Martin focused on listening to the tapes, and was just finishing up listening to the second half of Father Edwin Burroughs’ statement when Tim came into the shared office the assistants used.

“Hey, you’re in early. You get the email?”

Martin raised his eyebrows and shook his head.

Tim snorted. “Jon claims he’s got something to warn us about, something that ‘won’t parse properly through digital means.’” He rolled his eyes. “Which is Jon-speak for ‘it’s a weird thing and I don’t want to admit it’s a weird thing because I have to keep my skeptic hat on to preserve my self-image.”

Martin chuckled in solidarity, then gestured toward the door to Jon’s office, to indicate that’s where their boss was.

“Not coming?” Tim asked, his own eyebrow raised. When Martin shrugged, he said, “Well, I guess if you didn’t get the email…” Tim also shrugged, then said, “Guess I’d better get it over with. Wish me luck!”

Martin gave him a thumbs up.

When Sasha came in, Martin silently directed her to Jon’s office as well, then heaved a sigh of relief. He hadn’t had to explain being non-verbal at all yet, and it was already nine o’clock. Maybe if he was lucky, Jon would warn them off talking to him and he’d manage to make it the entire day without having to explain the whole “non-verbal” business to anyone he saw on a regular basis.

Alas, it was barely thirty minutes later that Tim and Sasha returned to talk to him, both wearing expressions of mingled concern and guilt. When they spoke it was a flood of the usual, expected platitudes:

“We’re so sorry!”

“We didn’t know!”

“Are you okay??”

And such like.

Martin shrugged and nodded and shook his head in all the right places, and evidently Jon had played them the tape of his statement so he didn’t have to explain it all again (thank God), and he thought maybe, maybe he could even figure out what statement they were working on right now if he just listened to their chatter after they were done with the niceties, but then…

Well. Then Timothy Stoker happened.

Which is to say, Tim actually looked at Martin, and said, “You’re being awfully quiet. You sure you’re okay?”

And then he and Sasha just… sat there, looking at him expectantly.

Martin sighed and reached for a piece of scrap paper and wrote, I’m autistic and sometimes I go non-verbal. Today’s one of those days, but I don’t have my phone anymore, so no communication app.

As he held up the paper so the others could read the words, Martin braced himself for the ensuing reactions. Pity, probably, like those in the Institute library, and he couldn’t even call in sick to avoid it; he’d rather have scorn and derision. At least those reactions were honest.

What he got from them was not pity, however, nor even scorn.

Sasha hummed. “Autism explains a lot, actually. Don’t worry, it’s not a problem.”

Tim grinned and clapped Martin on the shoulder. “Yeah, why didn’t you just say so? It’s fine, you’ve been through an ordeal. And so you know--you’re hardly the only neurodivergent in the Archives.”

Martin blinked at Tim, then wrote: Wait, what? Who…?

“Would you believe me if I said all of us?” Tim said with a grin. “I have ADD, Jon’s… well… he’s Jon, and as for Sasha…”

Sasha sighed in fond exasperation and cut in, “Tim…”

“I contend that you cannot be neurotypical, Ms. James. You fit in too well around here.”

“I am not admitting to anything on Institute property,” Sasha said with aplomb. “And you shouldn't have either, but here we are.” She looked at Martin. “If HR finds out and they give you any trouble, let us know and we’ll figure out what to do.”

Tim, in the meanwhile, pulled out his phone. “Here, go ahead and use mine for now, until your replacement gets here or whatever. What’s the app so I can install it for you?”

Martin’s jaw had dropped open. Tim having ADD made sense; what did he mean about Jon, though? And Sasha? And what did Sasha mean about HR? And… and why were they being so… nice? So… understanding? It wasn’t an act, or at least he didn’t think it was. They seemed… genuinely fine with it. Accepting, even.

It was the strangest thing Martin had experienced in a while, and that was including the worm-riddled woman who’d stood outside his door for two straight weeks.

From there the day just… went on as normal. Tim installed the app on the phone, Martin’s robot phone lady spoke for him, the three of them did their work, and everything was fine.

Until, of course, the nature of their work reared its ugly head. They were discussing the statement of Leanne Denikin, case #0051701, which they had yet to attach a pithy name to; hence the discussion. It had long since become standard practice to attach a name to the “weirder” statements, to make them easier to discuss. (Jon insisted on using the case numbers on tape still, which was annoying, given that was the only place he did that.)

Martin was reading through the statement, and he typed into Tim’s phone: What do you think of this bit? “Be still, for there is strange music.”

What came out of the phone’s speakers, however, was garbled static followed by high-pitched screeching that startled Martin so much he actually dropped the phone.

Jon was walking in just as this happened; he stopped in the doorway, blinking. “What on Earth was that?”

“Martin’s robot lady gave Tim’s phone an aneurysm, I think,” Sasha said, eyeing Martin as well.

Martin scrabbled on the floor for the phone, pulled up the app (which had crashed), and typed, I don’t know what happened!! I was just typing in something from one of the statements!

Jon frowned at him sharply. “What are you doing with Tim’s phone? Are you quite well?”

“No, Martin is not ‘quite well,’” Tim said. “Non-verbal for the day.”

Then Jon did something that stunned Martin: Jon signed at him, specifically, “Do you know sign language?” He spoke aloud as he said this, too, but also raised his eyebrows and gave a quizzical tilt to his head to convey that he was asking a question.

Martin blinked rapidly, then signed back: “Yes, actually. But Tim and Sasha don’t.”

Jon nodded, then said aloud, along with signing, “Why are you non-verbal, exactly?”

“I have autism,” Martin signed. “Sometimes talking is overwhelming and sometimes, especially in stressful situations, I can’t talk at all. Woke up that way today. It should be gone by tomorrow morning.” Why was he explaining so much more to Jon than he had to the others? Maybe just because Jon knew sign, and thus could communicate in a language Martin found much easier than even the typing.

Jon frowned thoughtfully, then nodded again. Then, still speaking and signing both, “What were you typing into your phone?”

“Be still, for there is strange music. From the statement.” Martin gestured to the statement on his desk.

Jon’s frown deepened and he repeated the words. “‘Be still, for there is strange music….’” His expression went slack for a moment, and then he shook himself. “Right. Well. Just… just… I’ll be right back.” Then he abruptly turned and left the room.

Tim and Sasha exchanged bewildered looks. Then Sasha asked, “Do you know what that was all about?”

“I forgot Jon knows BSL,” Tim replied thoughtfully. “Hard of hearing on one side. Not that he’d have agreed to interpret all day or anything.”

Martin shrugged. It’s alright, he typed. This works just fine.

“Well, no, obviously not for some things.” Jon had reappeared as suddenly as he’d disappeared, holding a small brown notebook the size of Martin’s hand. “Here,” he said, thrusting the notebook at Martin. “This will work better, for communicating about the statements. You needn’t use it with me, of course, unless signing is also taxing.”

Martin stared up at Jon. There was an entirely new look on his boss’ face. Not any level of scorn or sneer, nor even concern. He was… nervous. Fidgety. Like he was offering a gift that he was afraid might be rejected.

Something went flip in Martin’s stomach and it was like the entire world turned upside down. Suddenly, in light of Jon’s actions in the last 24 hours, he saw the way his boss had acted toward him the last six months for what it was: a defense mechanism. Armor pulled up around someone fragile and soft and sweet, someone so terrified of rejection that he went about making sure it happened preemptively so he wouldn’t be hurt.

Martin had a sudden, fierce desire to hug Jon and tell him everything would be okay. It was so bewildering a sensation--he didn’t even like the man! At all!--that he just took the notebook with a nod and a signed “Thank you,” eyes still very wide.

Jon nodded in return. “You’re welcome.” He let out a breath, and seemed to relax a little. “Well. Then. I think we’ve found the name for this one, given the way Tim’s phone reacted to those words. ‘Strange Music’ it is.” He straightened himself. “Tim, you said something about the organ reminding you of articles you’ve read…?”

Tim nodded, expression suddenly serious. “Yeah. I’ll see if I can find them for you.”

“Right. Well, then, Sasha, if I could ask you to look through the Archive like we talked about? I’m certain we’ve had a statement from Jane Prentiss.” Jon then turned to Martin. “And if you wouldn’t mind helping me with ‘Schwarzwald?’ You used to work in the library, right?”

Martin was still staring at Jon in confusion, but nodded.

Jon actually smiled at him. Faintly. “Well, then, I’m certain you must know where to find the German history reference books, if you could go grab whatever they’ll let you bring down?”

The strangest thing about it was, Jon seemed sincere. Like he actually believed Martin did, indeed, know the library well enough to just… go up there and find the German history reference books. The faint, confident-in-his-assistant smile was a new look, at least directed at Martin; he’d seen Jon look at Tim and Sasha that way many times before.

Martin’s stomach was doing cartwheels. There were butterflies taking up residence in his intestines. His heart was pounding. How had he never noticed how nice Jon’s smile was? Soft and small, like he was afraid to let it actually take up residence on his face for too long.

Oh, God, oh, no. Martin could not fancy his boss. Jon hated him. Or, well, no, evidence suggested that perhaps Jon did not hate him, but Jon most certainly did not fancy him. This crush had to disappear, just as fast as it had come. This would not do.

He was going to be writing poetry again tonight, wasn’t he? Crap.

“Martin?” Jon’s tone was concerned rather than sharp, and the way Jon said his name made Martin want to sink into the floor.

Instead, he scribbled furiously in the notebook and held it up so all three of the others could see: Yeah, sorry, was just thinking about where that’d be. I’ll bring them down as soon as I find them.

Jon practically beamed at Martin’s use of the notebook and he nodded briskly. “Right! I’ll be in my office when you have the books, then.” He started to turn away.

Martin’s heart went pound pound pound because oh wow Jon was really cute when he let that smile take up more of his face. Throwing caution to the wind, he made a noise to get the other man’s attention.

Jon turned around, quirking a brow. “Yes, Martin?”

Martin signed, “Tea?” He, too, raised his eyebrows and tilted his head to indicate the question.

Jon nodded. “Tea would be lovely, yes.” He smiled at Martin for a brief moment, and then suddenly looked flustered. He glared at them all. “Anyway,” he snapped in his ‘boss’ voice, the impact of which was ruined by the flush rising in his cheeks, “there’s still work to be done. So let’s… do it.” And with that, he turned on his heel and left the office.

Had Jon blushed because Martin had offered him tea? Did Jon like his tea that much? Was Martin imagining things? He had to be imagining things. He put his head down on the desk and wrapped his arms over it so he could grab at handfuls of hair. What was happening to him?

Sasha tried to make her voice serious, but couldn't quite manage it past quite clearly holding back giggles. “Mourn for poor Martin, working alone with Jon.” She looked at Tim. “We should call HR preemptively, it’ll be a bloodbath.”

“Nah, I think Jon’s softening on our boy,” Tim said with a laugh. He reached over to ruffle Martin’s hair with one hand while he took his phone back with the other. “Don’t worry, Marto. I told you he’d come around one day.”

Martin looked up at Tim with a stricken, betrayed expression. In the notebook: Is this how you comfort me in my hour of need??

Sasha shook her head. “For once, Tim’s being serious. You weren’t in the room when Jon explained things to us. He’s worried about you, he doesn’t want you to have to leave the Institute alone, he doesn’t want you to have to look for the Prentiss statement in case it’s ‘too traumatic’ for you to run across on your own. He actually asked us if we thought we should avoid any mention of Prentiss altogether in your presence.”

“I told him no,” Tim said. “I hope that was okay. You seem like you’d rather deal with trauma by facing it and figuring it out, rather than avoiding it entirely.”

Matin gaped at them. Really? he wrote. Jon’s… worried about me? Really? As if he hadn’t seen the evidence just now that Jon was, indeed… softening.

Tim gave Martin a very serious look. “I’ve told you before… I’ve known Jon, well, not as long as I’ve known Sasha, but for a long while now. He’s prickly and thorny, even to people he cares about, but that’s a front and I’ve said so. You just didn’t believe me.”

“In Martin’s defense,” Sasha put in, “Jon’s been awfully ‘prickly and thorny’ to him specifically.”

Tim put up a hand. “Oh, I agree. I have had words with our dear boss about the way he treats Martin, largely because I’m one of the few people he might actually listen to.” He looked at Martin. “I don’t want to take the credit, because it’s really been a remarkably fast turnaround, but I’d like to think I helped, a little.”

Martin frowned thoughtfully. Thank you, he wrote. If Jon’s at ‘I can stand Martin’ instead of ‘Martin is the source of all bad that happens in the Archives’ work might be… better than tolerable, for once.

“That’s the spirit!” Tim said with a grin. “Now, then, Jon did say to get back to work…”

Jon gave Martin another of those soft smiles when Martin brought in the tea, a smile which widened on seeing the stack of books he carried in right after. That afternoon, spent sitting and going through books and discussing the Schwarzwald statement, was the first of many they’d spend together, reading and talking and comparing notes.

Martin was feeling verbal again the next morning, but he kept the notebook. If nothing else, it was a good place to jot down poetry. And it came in handy when he found himself unable to speak the morning after Jane Prentiss’ attack on the Archives.

And the morning after Jon confronted him about his CV.

And the morning after Jon disappeared, leaving Jurgen Leitner’s body at his desk. (Martin blamed that on the corridors more than the body, really.)

Funnily enough, he didn’t need it the morning after the Unknowing. But he kept it with him that day all the same, the first gift Jon had ever given him, and one of the few things he had left of him with Jon in a coma.

--------------------------------------------

When they reached Daisy’s safehouse in Scotland, Martin had hoped he’d somehow manage to dodge the threat of going non-verbal. He’d been the one to drive the car, over Jon’s protests; it was something to focus on, to keep him remembering he was alive and real. He’d clutched the wheel and driven north north north with Jon giving directions in the passenger seat.

Martin had finally figured out that it was the chance to stop and think about trauma that led to his being non-verbal, which was why it was almost always a thing that hit in the morning. Adrenaline would keep him running after a stressful event, and then he’d carry himself through the rest of the day trying to clean up whatever mess had been caused. But sleep was enough for his body and brain to both tell him to stop, to process, to deal with whatever he’d run into.

It was possible, in hindsight, that he’d gone non-verbal more than once since the Unknowing and just hadn’t noticed because he’d been barely interacting with anyone. He’d certainly had a bad bout the morning after his mother’s funeral, dealing with so much misgendering and fake smiles. And there had been more than enough trauma to try to process in the past year, so it must have happened before.

He’d just really, really hoped it wouldn’t now, because he didn’t want to put Jon through that. (Why he thought he was putting Jon through anything he didn’t really want to examine. It made him feel Lonely, and that was bad.)

At any rate, the realization of why he went non-verbal had led to him keeping busy in order to hold it off, in order to hold himself together. So he drove, and he puttered about the cabin poking into cupboards, and he talked to Jon, and he talked to the shop lady in the village, and he brought back food and made dinner with Jon, and everything was good and fine.

And then he woke up the next morning, in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room, and he could not speak.

There was the smell of bacon and eggs and pancakes cooking, and Martin made his bleary way out into the main room of the cabin and peered at Jon, already up and dressed and cooking.

His boyfriend turned to look at him and smiled, one of those soft smiles Martin had come to love so much. “Sleep well?”

"Not really,” Martin signed. “I mean…” He gestured at his throat.

Jon nodded. “I figured you might feel that way this morning. I, uhh… hold on a moment, I need to….” He grabbed the pan of bacon and moved it off the heat, pulled a pancake off the griddle and deposited it on a plate, then turned off the stove and went to poke around in one of the bags.

Martin chuckled fondly. “What’re you looking for?”

Jon was still digging through his bag. “When I was grabbing essentials at the store, back in London, I was thinking, you’ve been through a lot, and the notebook I gave you before must be full if you even have it anymore. I know you were writing poetry in it, and… oh, here we go.”

Jon came up with another small notebook. This one was not plain and brown, the way the first one he’d gifted Martin all those years ago had been. This one was black, and had silvery stars on its cover that, as Jon held out the book and thus tilted it through the light, shimmered into rainbows.

“Just in case, you know, the shop lady doesn’t know BSL.”

Martin blinked at the notebook.

“It, uhh… I know it’s not your usual style,” Jon said, his voice suddenly nervous. He was looking down at the notebook as he spoke, instead of at Martin. “Not… retro. But… I saw it and I thought of you.” He paused. “That tape, where you were talking to Simon Fairchild. He talked about the ‘cosmic scale,’ and how we’ve never even been alive on that time frame, and you said… what was it? You said, ‘I think our experience of the universe has value. Even if it disappears forever.’ And I just… that was… maybe the most… it was very… you. And there were other options, flowers or cursive writing, o-or… I don’t know, they all seemed so obvious, but this…”

Jon swallowed, and finally looked up at Martin. “I thought, after the Lonely, you might like a reminder that, you have value. That… that to me, you shine as bright as any star.” And then he flushed, and Martin knew it was for him, just as he now knew the flushes about tea all those years ago had also been for him.

Martin was gaping. Oh. Oh. Jon… loved him. Which he’d known, intellectually, but the emotional knowledge of it hit him suddenly, took his breath away. He knew it, all at once, in that “oh we could spend the rest of our lives together” way he’d never really thought he’d ever feel.

Jon had clearly misinterpreted the expression; he started stammering, “I-if… it it’s bad, I can… well, no, I can’t take it back, stupid, I should’ve just grabbed the one that had--”

Martin cut him off by reaching out to take the notebook from Jon and reached out with his other hand to cup the shorter man’s cheek. He smiled, and because he’d realized long ago how well Jon responded to physical touch, he leaned in to plant a soft kiss on his boyfriend’s forehead.

Then he pulled back to put the notebook aside on the counter and signed, “It’s perfect. Thank you.” A pause, and then, “I love you.”

Jon smiled, both speaking and signing, “I love you, too.”

And for once in his life, Martin knew that to be true, and trusted that knowledge. He was loved. He had been loved, and he would be loved for the rest of his life, whatever state his voice was in.

[internalsealpanic]

Respectful Cannibalism

Summary:  Watching mystery movie with a bunch of detective was a bad idea

A/n: While this is part 3 to my Space Case series, you’re not required to read Art Gallery Smile or Cosmonauts to understand the context to this. The only note I do have is that Dick and Steph are friends with Reader much to Tim’s everlasting horror.  Special thanks to @littleredwing89 and @glorified-red for proof reading this mess.

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff and a confusing amount of batkids in one scene.

Main Masterlist

Tim Drake Masterlist

Tim coughs, loud and ragged into the speaker. You find yourself wincing at the phone tucked against your ear. Tim sounds like he’s dying or, at the very least, he’s on his way there. 

“I’m so-”

“Fucking tired of saying sorry that you decided to go skinny dipping in Gotham Harbor? Yeah. Great, I’m sick of hearing it too. Glad, we’re on the same page, Space Cadet.” You exasperate, pulling on your jeans violently enough for Tim to hear the angry shuffling of fabric. 

“Skinny dipping?” Tim huffs, a fond smile playing on his lips as he drinks in the timber of your voice. Even when you were absolutely exasperated, your voice was still soothing or maybe he just misses your company. God, he’s such a sap. 

You shake your head in disbelief. That was his take away? “Yes, Timmy, Buck-ass skinny dipping,” you laugh, coming out derisive and sharp. Tim groans this time filled with guilt. The first few sounds of another ‘I’m sorry’ form in the back of his throat as he runs his hand through his bed head. For once, you’re thankful that you’re nowhere near Tim because you are one apology away from decking him and you’re pretty sure that that’s a terrible thing to do to a sick person, especially one with no brain cells to spare. 

“I- You were really looking forward to this (Y/n), don’t try to deny it.” You weren’t going to. He was right. You were looking forward to this date. You were impossibly, unreasonably giddy over the prospect of going to the planetarium with Tim this afternoon. WITH Tim. Sure, you’re pretty down about it but you were the tiniest bit more  concerned about the fact that your boyfriend had water in his lungs and almost died of hypothermia for a hot second. You pinch the bridge of your nose, hoping that worry and murder radiate off of you in equal measure.  “I was also looking forward to my letter from Hogwarts,” you sneer, pausing dramatically to look at your watch, “and it’s been roughly a decade.”  You hear Tim swallow and the hairs on your neck bristle in petty satisfaction. 

Tim chortles, a lively sound that startles you, then coughs but the sound comes out somehow sounding doubtful and teasing. Embarrassment flares up in you. “You were too!” you protest, hackles drawn to full height. A short breathy laugh leaves Tim and you feel the flush on your face ease into something softer and more rounded. All the sharpness in your veins dissipates as the flash of fondness for that stupid laugh takes over. You can imagine him warm under the covers smiling at the phone at your blunder. “Please, (y/n), my hopes were dashed when I was 4  and still not in the Jedi order.”

“Bullshit, you were never a child,”  you snort, sharpening the grin on your face into something vicious. “I refuse to believe you were ever a child! You probably sprang out of a textbook fully formed- Wait, I’m getting off-topic. ” Tim hums innocently and you narrow your eyes at the phone, hoping he can feel the ‘I am revoking your breathing privileges’ look.  “You always are.” Tim says before falling into a coughing fit. 

“Sorry, Cosmo, I just keep getting lost in your eyes,”  you whisper, pitching your voice rich and caramel smooth. There’s a sound on the other line. Tim is babbling you realize. You hear a shuffle of fabric and a body rising. Tim sucks in a breath, red-faced and caught off guard by the sudden shift in tone. He can practically see the cocky grin playing on your face, the light of the sun reflecting as golden flecks in your eyes.  “You can’t even see them!” Tim stammers, glowering at you through the phone. You cackle at him as if sensing the venomous look he’s giving you. “You can barely open them!” Tim rolls his, very much, open eyes, falling back into an unnecessarily large pile of pillows that Alfred insisted was necessary for bed rest with a loud ‘fwoof’. “Yes, I can,” Tim mumbles, sounding young for once. You do your level best to smother a grin on your face. “I’m just really drowsy from the chamomile tea Alfie gave me.” You stop dead in your tracks, one hand half in your coat the other on the doorknob. You blink. “You’re at the Manor?”

Tim pauses, making a frustrated noise. He shouldn’t have said that.  “Dick and B… insisted.” This draws another one of your sharp laughs. He says insisted as if it was ever negotiable. “Did they ‘insist’ before or after they blow-dried and hung you out to dry?” Tim squawks and you hear shuffling again. Tim tries to remember why he doesn’t hate you. “Tell me again how you found out about me getting sick? Steph? Cass?”

“Hmmmmmm, Dick.”

“THAT TRAITOR”

“Funny way to pronounce older brother,” you hum smug. You can feel Tim glaring daggers at you. “You-”

“There’s a home theater, yeah?” 

Tim pauses, this time longer. “I don’t like where this is going.”

“Answer the question, Space Case.”

He sighs. “Yes.”

“Great! It’s a date then,” you say, mentally preparing a route to the Manor from the vague directions Steph told you once. You could just use the maps app- 

“NO!” You freeze. Tim flinches at the volume of his own voice. He  whispers an indiscernible  ‘I’m sorry’. You turn it over in your mind before speaking. “No?” You ask, trying your best to sound hurt instead of amused. Maybe you should have pitched your voice higher, more shaky. “Look, Tim, I-” Tim heaves a loud sigh. “-(Y/n), you’re fine-” Well, you aren’t, you think. You bite your tongue, physically to make sure you don’t say anything unnecessary. “-It’s got nothing to do with you. It’s- It’s just my siblings...” Tim knows that his siblings have been talking about you.  

“Timmy, I can take whatever shovel talk they can give me,” you say with the confidence of someone who has never been dangled over the edge of a roof top. Ok, to be fair, YOU had nothing to worry about. Tim, on the other hand, was going to get roasted alive. Maybe he can persuade you into not- Tim hears the tell tale sputtering of your bike’s engine and he feels his blood pressure spike. The engine genuinely sounds like a death rattle. 

“You’ll get sick.”

You swear and he hears another sputter of the engine. “You’ll get sick,” he croaks again, louder this time hopefully over the dying engine. Maybe if your engine dies right now, he’ll be spared from a slow agonizing death via siblings. “Relax Cosmo, I have the strongest ward against whatever you got,” you say, giving the engine a light kick. Tim hears a few metallic clunks then the engine stutters to life. Tim looks up past the ceiling trying to glare at whatever cosmic being resurrected your engine. 

“Which is...”

“Being broke. It does wonders for your health.”

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s how it works,” Tim says, shifting burying his head against the too soft pillows. The soft fabric makes his eyes feel heavy. He yawns. He hears the sputter or your laugh. It’s hard to tell from the sudden drowsiness making his head swim. 

“I promise I’ll explain to your typical rich kid ass when I get there, Tim.”

“That’s not how it works,” Tim slurs, face pressed into a pillow. 

You laugh, he’s sure this time. 

“I’m-” Tim’s mind unfocuses and the words you say garble together ”-Tim. ”

Tim blinks, mouth moving to ask you to repeat that but the last thing he hears is a soft click. 

On the bright side, it would just be him and Alfred at the manor.

_________________________________________________________

Batmanisfake: I heard (y/n)'s coming over😶

Nightwingingit:👀 How do you even know that?

Batmanisfake: What are you? A cop?

Nightwingingit: say that again but slowly 🙄

Batmanisfake: ...

Damian: He bugged Drake's phone. For blackmail purposes, of course. 

Nightwingingit: JASON

The Cool One: Shush Dick! He's onto something

Batmanisfake: Thank you 

The Adult: I for once had nothing to do with it😌

Theactualbatman: I'm assuming we're all coming home tonight?

The Cool One: I'll bring popcorn

Damian: Nonsense Pennyworth will likely have some prepared

The Cool One:😭 We really do not deserve that man

Nightwingingit: Definitely

thesaneone: We're recording Tim's face when he sees us, right? 

Batmanisfake: From all angles

The Adult: You're all horrible

Batmanisfake: Please like you're not hacking into the cameras as we speak, Babs

The Adult: You have no proof👀

_________________________________________________________

Tim’s head felt thick and gooey like one of Alfred’s custards. He feels like he’s floating, like he’s in a fish tank. There’s a sickly Chlorine smell clogging his nostrils; it smells powdery and sterile and reminds him vaguely of aspirin. Tim blinks. His eyes hurt; they feel puffy and sore and hot. His vision is further obscured by a thick layer of fleece blankets Alfred had piled high over him. He shuts his eyes still feeling too overwhelmed by the low light coming from the window.

Tim thinks he hears his window open with a soft click. Tim quiets his breathing. His hearing is too muddled to process anything beyond it.  There’s a soft thud of heavy boots in the room; it’s imperceptible and dreamlike the way it reaches his ears that it has him shifting under the covers trying his best to discern the sound. A dozen lighter footsteps follow it and he can sense 6 shapeless bodies hovering over him.

“Should we wake him up?” asks a voice that vaguely sounds like Cass. 

There’s a shuffling sound. Leather, he thinks. “Wait, lemme take a picture.”

“Red, why? It’s not like you can blackmail him with pictures of him sleeping.”

“Because, flashlight, I need proof that Timbo sleeps. ”

“Because?”

“Ok, how many times have you seen him asleep?” 

“Uh...”

“Exactly!”

Tim hears a laugh that distinctly sounds like Dick. “Does it count if Alfie drugged him?”

“Maybe?” Steph says, shrugging. 

“It doesn’t, Brown.”

“Damn it.”

“Does that mean B doesn’t sleep?”

“Nope.”

Maybe if Tim keeps sleeping, they’ll go away on their own. Tim wraps the sheets tightly around himself, hoping the large stack  of fleece would be enough to muffle his siblings. 

“I’m pretty sure I have dibs on waking him for opening the window for you shits.”

“Red, anyone could have opened that,” Duke laughs, stepping slightly behind Cass, who at the moment was paying more attention to the moving pile of fabric. Maybe if Tim stays really still she’ll turn her attention to something else. 

“Cass and Dickface would have just broken it.‘

“I would not!”

“Sorry, Cass, you would.”

“Steph, whose side are you on?”

“Why is no one defending me?” Dick sighs. 

“No one cares, Dickface. And Blondie’s clearly playing for the right team-” Steph cackles. “-none of you have any finesse.”

“Not all of us can be drama queens, Todd.”

“You’re like the third to the last person I wanna hear this from.”

“Third? You’re ranking us now? Who gave you the right?”

“Alfred,” Jason deadpans, “And yeah. Bruce and Dick are first and second.”

“Hey!”

“Can it Mr. Pretty Man Down.”

“That was one-”

“What rank am I?”

“uh … fifth.”

“Fifth?!”

“Sorry, Blondie, Cass has you beat with that ballet kick thingy.”

“Ok, yeah I can accept that. What about Babs?”

“What about Babs? The woman can kick my ass six ways to Sunday. ”

Tim’s head throbs all over. There are soft pin pricks pressing on the sole of his left foot; his leg jerks involuntarily. He wants to scream. Tim swears under his breath. A gloved hand pries the covers away from Tim’s face. Tim squints his eyes open only to be greeted by Dick’s kind, but still very punchable, face. Tim takes a long rasp, pinching his features in a mix of annoyance and despair. “Why are you-” Cough! “-here?”

There’s a slight quirk to Dick’s smile.“They wanted to meet (y/n),” Dick explains in a sweeping theatrical motion of his hand across the room directing Tim’s attention to the expressions on his sibling’s expressions which were all a variation of devious scheming. 

“How did-” cough. “- you even know-” cough. “-(y/n) was coming?” Tim asks, shooting up from his pile of pillows causing a couple of blankets to topple to the floor to the ground. Tim’s lightheaded.  He suddenly feels a shift in his balance, a feeling of vertigo.   He nearly topples to the ground, his blood not quite catching up to his movements, when feels hands wrap around his shoulders. “Woah there Baby Bird, slowdown.”

“Answer-” Cough!

“It was Todd.”

“You mutant sperm!”

“Jay, aren’t we all mutant sperm?” Steph laughs, slinging one arm over an irate Damian’s shoulders and another over a fuming Jason’s shoulders. Tim groans, sounding pained. “How much do I need to pay each of you to get all of you to go away?”

“A lifetime of IOUs,” Dick says, casually. 

“NO!”

“All of your share in W.E.,” Duke says, laughing. Steph elbows him lightly, also laughing. “You’re shooting prelow there, Slick,” Steph teases. Duke shrugs still grinning. “Gotta  keep it realistic, yanno?”  Steph and Duke keep bickering. 

“Drake, kindly, pay with your life.”

Tim scrunches his nose. “I’m already on my deathbed, you know, dying. What else do you want from me?”

“A more agonizing death.”

Jason grins, tilting his chin. “C’mon, Timbo, we can help with your little impromptu date.” Tim groans, placing his face in his hands. “Please just help me dig my own grave.”

“What would be the fun in that, Timbo?”

“For you or for me?”

“Come on, Tim, it’ll be fine,” Cass says,  clearly not believing the words herself. All seven of them dissolve into another round bickering. Damian, Jason, and Steph hellbent on giving Tim an aneurysm.  Duke and Cass playing at being neutral; Duke leaning on Tim’s side but laughing way too hard at Steph’s well placed jabs; Cass is only mildly siding with Tim to spite Jason. Why this time? Tim has no clue. 

The string of banter is broken up by the echoing the doorbell. Tim’s heart seizes as they all fall silent, enraptured by the odd sound of a doorbell filling the hallowed halls of Wayne Manor. The chiming of bells ends with the creaking of the large oak doors in the front of the manor. 

Before Tim’s sluggish brain could even formulate a thought, all of his siblings are all bounding towards the door, bouncing off the walls and flipping over obstacles. Tim scrambles, lagging, after the hoard of vigilantes barrelling towards you. Tim tries to shout after his siblings but his voice is drowned out by raucous laughter and bickering. 

You stand at the door, head haloed by the pale afternoon light as the sky catches fire, flecks of snow sparkling in your hair. You tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear as you sheepishly thank Alfred as he takes your coat.  

Tim struggles to breathe an he genuinely doesn’t know if it’s because of his lungs, you, or the fact that of all his siblings, Babs was the one who got there first and Tim genuinely doesn’t know if Babs is there to hold off the gaggle of vigilantes or to scare you off. From the jovial grin wrinkling your features, Tim’s pretty sure Babs just gave you some blackmail material instead of putting you through the ringer- an equally scary outcome. For your part, you don’t look even slightly phased by the fact that Babs is in a wheelchair or even by the way she’s clearly sizing you up. All of this rolls off of you with an easy motion of your shoulders as you answer her questions in the most frustratingly oblique way based off of Babs’s expression. Tim can’t help the curve on his lip as you blatantly dodge another of Babs’s questions with a smile. You spot him, winking, and the tips of Tim’s ears flush. 

Your cocky demeanor fades when a gaggle of batbrats crowd you; nervousness creeps into your form, ironing out your posture into something unnatural and defensive. “Is this a bad time?” You ask through a tight lipped smile. Babs glares at them but doesn’t make any effort to hide the satisfaction at your shaken demeanor. “Don’t mind them, Sweetie,” Babs says, patting your back and guiding you away from the gaggle. You shuffle awkwardly, trying to coax your spine back into a more natural curve. 

“(Y/n)!” Tim manages between gasps for air. Making a person with non functioning lungs run has to be some sort of human rights violation. His voice is  louder than he anticipated. He realizes, but the apprehension in his body flits away when you beam at him-a  wide cheeky smile that has his body vibrating with delight. He made you smile like that, Tim thinks, heart swelling almost enough to soften the impact of the next few words. “Hey, Duckie!” you chirp tilting your face in a cute lopsided smile. 

“Duckie?” Jason sniggers. 

Duke’s face passess from confusion, realization, then amusement in a matter of three seconds.“Duckie? As in ‘quack quack’?” Duke asks, pretending to still be dumbstruck. 

“Yes, Duckie, Tommy Terrific,” you say, the lopsided smile curving into a playful grin. The dumb nicknames earn you a loud, surprisingly nonthreatening, approving laugh from Jason who then says “We’ll keep those nicknames in mind” which just drags pained looks from both Tim and Duke. Dick and Damian on the other hand look absolutely delighted. 

“(Y/n), tell them about the other nicknames,” Steph says, grinning savagely. Your eyes widen and you wrinkle your nose, mouth twitching from side to side, trying to pretend away the heat rising from your cheeks. “Not on your life, Stephie.”

“Aaaaaw! Not even for lil ol’ me?” Dick pouts, throwing his arms around you. The familiarity of the action has Tim bristling. “Pleeeeeaaase,” Dick whines; a smile hidden in your hair, “not even for Alfred’s cookies?” You make a noise caught between a laugh and a groan. “Hmmmm… maybe? Throw in some candy.”

“Deal.”

Tim blinks. “You’d betray me for sugar?” 

“Cus I ain’t getting any while you’re sick,” you cackle, grinning along with Dick who looks way too pleased with the outcome of the conversation.  Tim desperately wants to melt into the floor. Looking at all his siblings who are eagerly awaiting for the litany of nicknames, Tim cuts in. “Let’s just go watch that film.”

“What are we watching?” Cass asks, leaning to look over your shoulder, clearly shoving Dick out of the way. Dick does his best to not budge. 

“What do you mean ‘we’?”

“We are under a communist regime, Timbo. We’re all watching it together,” Jason says, slinging Tim over his shoulder. 

“Have a heart, Drake. We only want to spend family time together,” Damian says, somehow still looking imperious even from where Tim is dangling. A dull ache starts spreading across Tim’s like his skull is being squeezed. 

“Hope you guys like Clue,” you say, fishing it out of your cornucopia of unhealthy junk food. “I figured you detectives would like a good mystery.” Dick snorts taking the disc from you and reading over the contents efficiently. “Bet you I can get the ending even before any of you.”

“No, you won’t,” Jason barks, setting off a long winded argument about who the best detective is. 

“Didn’t you say you would eat me if I spoiled another mystery movie for you? Are you planning to eat my entire family?” Tim croaks quietly. You scrunch your nose, twitching your mouth four times to the left and four and a half times to the right.  “Technically, what I said was ‘I’ll respectfully go back to juvie for cannibalism if you spoil another movie that night’,” you hiss low, trying not to draw attention to your conversation. Unfortunately for you, his siblings have good hearing.  

“And this is different how?” Tim asks, this time not bothering to control his volume. 

“You’ll never figure out the ending,” You say smiling innocently. Tim rolls his eyes and huffs a ‘we’ll see’. It doesn’t wipe the smile off of your face. 

As it turns out, the Wayne Manor theater is less of a theater and more of a bean bag storage closet with a large screen. Jason tosses Tim unceremoniously into one of the random bean bags in front of the couch before gracefully pirouetting into the couch. You chuckle and continue your search for something to put your Bluray in, just now realizing that you should have probably just asked for their Netflix password or something. Alfred appears out of nowhere handing Jason and Cass each a bowl of buttery popcorn and scolding Jason about manhandling his brother in front of  a guest. Jason looks unrepentant. No surprises there. With a swat on  the back of Jason’s head, Alfred turns to you, gloved hands extended out to you.  “I can take that."

“Oh… Uh thanks- Thank you,” you stammer. To your left, Tim snickers and your hand slip, somehow the blanket Babs handed you finds its way to Tim’s face. “Shut up, Ducktective. He’s practically your grandpa and I kinda wanna make a good impression,” you hiss, cheeks warming. Tim coughs, a little dumbfounded. Somehow it hadn’t occurred to him that you were nervous about this. 

Tim checks if his brain is on straight before speaking. “Relax, you haven’t physically assaulted me or any of my family yet so you’re immediately at the top of Alfie’s list.” You open your mouth to speak then curl it into a frown, looking appalled and concerned. Apparently, his brain wasn't on as straight as Tim thought. "Am I going to have to fight your exes? At some point?" 

"No!" 

"Yes!" Steph says, handing you a red bean bag. Tim scowls at Steph as he watches the color drain from your face. She just shrugs and goes off to annoy Dick. 

“Mr. Boddy?” Damian asks incredulously, reading the box summary again. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope,” you laugh, setting your bean bag next to the one Jason dropped Tim in. Damian rolls his eyes. “This is a stupid movie. Do people really consume this drivel?”

You scrunch your nose but don’t put too much heart into glaring. Thankfully, color is now returning to your face. “The movie hasn’t even started yet!”

“Relax (y/n), the tiny mutant sperm is just playing elitist,” Steph says, plopping next to Jason and eyeing his bowlful of buttery popcorn. 

“As long as it isn’t as bad as the Happening-”

“Dude, you live in a city with Poison Ivy. That thing is pretty much a documentary,” Duke says hesitantly taking the spot between Steph and Cass. 

"Please, for the love of Alfie, please, talk about something else," Dick whines, plopping a bean bag next to Tim. Jason’s face twists in confusions before his eyes light up and untwists into an expression with amusement. "Is it because of the-" Dick hits him square in the face with a pillow, all the while screeching "Think of the children!"

"Where, Dickface?" Jason ask, prompting Dick to point(jazz hands)  at Damian who rolls his eyes. Jason does the same, looking younger than the toughened exterior suggested. "That's a gremlin, Dickface. Not a child." 

"He is-"

"SHUSH! The movie is starting!" 

You giggle, curling into Tim's side and placing your head in the crook of his neck where you usually like to put it. Tim's insides shiver from the contact and his hands automatically coil around you, pressing his nose into your hair. 

"Jeez, her melons are big," Babs says flatly taking another handful of Dick's popcorn from Damian. Cass snorts and Tim feels embarrassment creep into his skin. He flicks his eyes to you, only to find you smiling into his side. 

"They're almost as big as Dick's," you chuckle. 

"Nah, Jason is bigger," Cass pipes. 

You eye Jason openly which makes the large man cross his arms over his chest.  "Huh, you're right," you note with more confusion than anything. 

"Bruce has moobs too!" Jason protests, red-faced. 

"Son, why?"

The chatter falls silent when the figure at the edge of the room settles itself into the large leather recliner in one corner of the room. You squint your eyes to distinguish its features from the rest of the shadows in the room; only to be greeted by the solemn features of Bruce Wayne. Your breath catches and you feel your skin jump twenty feet in the air. Everyone else in the room seems to have about the same reaction even as he pulls a lever to raise the foot rest.  You all follow his movements with interest. 

“Is Bruce trying to relax?” Duke whispers to Cass who shrugs in response. Steph rolls her eyes, reaching over Duke to try and snatch some popcorn from Jason who just raises his bowl higher. “Shhhhh, Duke, let the B man try to play human,” she says, snatching at the popcorn til the bowl just falls on Jason’s head. 

“He’s trying I guess.” This draws a startled chuckle out of you that you try to press in Tim’s neck. The vibrations against his skin has him shivering. 

“B, are you ok?” Dick asks. This makes Bruce’s features move in a slightly concerned fashion which in Bruce speak is very concerned. “Yes, why?”

“Ooooh, no reason, old man.” He turns to Babs. “Yeah that’s not Bruce. Five bucks says it’s a robot.” Babs snickers, grabbing a ten from her purse. “Ten says it’s an alien.” You twist to look at them, taking out a twenty. “Twenty says it’s just Mr.Wayne.” Jason sneers at you, taking your money. “You clearly don’t know the old man.”

“Can we please just watch this film in peace?” Bruce groans, running a hand over his face, finally looking more like the long suffering single dad of eight kids that he should be.  Babs looks over her shoulder, slinging Bruce an absolutely disbelieving look. “Do you even know your children?”

“Yes, father, have you even watched us bond?” Damian asks, using his free hand to do air quotes for the word ‘bond’ while using the other to try and swipe some popcorn from Cass. It doesn’t work. 

“That definitely isn’t Bruce,” Dick hisses, trying to shield his own bowl of popcorn  from an irate Damian. 

“SHHHHHH! I can’t hear the movie!”

“It’s definitely the butler,” Dick declares.  Damian scowls, throwing a pillow at him which Dick catches with ease. “Grayson, the movie has barely started.”

“It’s definitely the butler. It’s gotta be. It’s always the butler.”

“That’s very offensive to Alfred, Dick,” Cass says, grinning. Alfred sniffs poshly in his own recliner. Dick recoils but Jason piles on. “Very classist of you, Dickiebird.”

Duke snorts. “Nah, I think he’s just saying it because Tim Curry was Pennywise the Clown.” 

“Why would you trust a clown?” 

“Oh my god, why are you guys comparing Alfred to a clown?”

“We are not!”

“This conversation is a trainwreck,” Tim groans into your hair. “Dunno, Tim, it sounds like a success,” you laugh, pressing closer. His eyes flick between you and his siblings. ��You planned this.” You look up at him, failing to flatten a smile. “Nope.”

“I say it’s Ms. Scarlett,” Bruce says, rubbing his chin contemplatively. 

“You’re just saying that cus she reminds you of Selina,” Tim huff, grinning and you’re half tempted to pinch his cheeks. Bruce cuts him a scathing look that has you shrinking; the grin on Tim’s face just broadens which just makes the playful scowl on Bruce’s face deepen. “Need I remind you who pays for the internet?”

“Alfred?” Tim asks, innocently. 

“Careful Tim, B man might actually do it. Hell, he’ll probably do it if he finds out what you did last Thursday.”

“Do you mean the explosion on Fifth?” you ask, turning to Steph.  Steph gives you a firm nod; in the corner of your eye, you can see Bruce arching a brow. Tim gapes at you looking absolutely gutted. “What happened to snitches get stitches?” Tim protests. 

 You shrug, grinning. “Sorry, Duckie, I stand by my cookie dealer. Who do you think sneaks Duke and me cheetos in Western Civilization? I stand by my fellow barbarian.”

“You know Duke?”

“I pay him to-”

“Shhhhh!” 

“You guys are talking too!”

“At least, it’s movie related!” Damian hisses. 

You throw up your hands with an exaggerated flail. “Fine!”

“I say it’s the shifty looking lady,” Jason declares, reaching over Duke and Steph to try and snatch some popcorn from Cass. You wonder why Jason doesn’t just snatch some from Alfred since he’s closer. You try to ask Tim but he just shakes his head at you.  “Ms.Peacock?” Cass asks, shoving Jason’s face away with butter covered fingers.  Duke tries to snatch a few kernels in the confusion only to get his hand swatted. “I think he means Mrs. White,” he says, waving his hand.  “Yeah that one.”

“It’s the butler! It’s always butler!” Dick protests. 

“I will fucking riot if it’s the butler!” Steph shoots back.

“It can’t be the butler.”

“Why not, Dami? He has motive.”

Damian rolls his eyes.“Gordon, why are you siding with Grayson?-” Babs opens her mouth to answer but Damain continues before she can get another syllable out “-nevermind. He doesn’t have as much motive as the rest of them. Besides, does he really look competent enough to hold a gun left alone with a knife?”

Tim raises his chin from your head. “Demon Spawn, your standards for butlers is too high. Alfred is-”

“You say this like you have plenty of references.” 

“Oh, Tommy Terrific, Duckie here is a posh bastard,” Jason sneers ruffling Tim’s hair. From the way, some of his hairs stick up you could guess that he still had some butter in his hand. Tim makes a face of disgust; you try your best to help him with his hair. “Jay, you say that but you’re like Mr. I need the correct type of wood for my bookshelves,” Steph laughs.  “Just because I’m not a slob like the rest of you walking disasters doesn’t mean I’m posh.”

“Yes, it does. You lived here. Yanno with Alfie,” Dick says, pulling out another pack of snacks he’d managed to snag from your bag. You’re not gonna ask at this point. Tim gives you a look which roughly translates to ‘I am very sorry for my trainwreck of a family’. You snort at him before turning towards his sibling. “I mean look at Cass. She’s still feral.” If looks could kill, the look Cass give you would melt your bones. Thankfully, Damian opens his mouth. “They’re all feral.” You have a sense that you’ve also been insulted. You hear Babs to your right laugh derisively. “You say this like you’re any less feral than the rest of us.”

“I am-”

“Are any of you still watching the movie?” Bruce asks and for the second time that night, your body tries to divorce your soul. You had almost forgotten that yes, you are watching Clue with the fucking Batman. You shift in your seat suddenly feeling a twinge of nervousness. Before the discomfort could nestle in you, Jason speaks up. “No, Bruce, we’re just watching Cass vacuum the popcorn into her stomach. What do you think?”

“You guys didn’t ask,” Cass says through a mouthful of popcorn knowing full well that’s a lie. 

“How can any of you be watching it? All you’ve done is talk over the dialogue.” You almost laugh at how exasperated he sounds. Beside you, Tim just snickers and shakes his head. 

Damian just looks at his father from his bean bag next to Dick. “Father, we can talk and listen. ” Dick, like the mature adult that he is, slaps his knee laughing. “I don’t think B is capable of that.”

“PREACH” was followed by a chorus of AMENs. 

"Alfred, what have I done to turn my children against me?" Bruce asks, tiredly leaning back into his recliner. 

"Master Bruce, how would you like me to list it?" 

"Alfred not you too," Bruce groans, putting his hands in his eyes. 

"Yeah! Alfie's on our side!" Jason cheers. 

"Quite."

"Alfie is always the sensible one," Cass chuckles sensibly between bites. You hear varying noises of agreement and Bruce ages from suave debonair to extremely tired single dad. 

"I assume Alfred is actually the boss here."

"Yeah, Bruce is actually on the bottom of the food chain here," Tim says. You tilt your head in  contemplation. "Yanno that makes Batman so much less scary." 

"B-man's just a giant softie," Steph chirps, slinging her legs over Duke and Cass's laps narrowly missing the nearly empty bowl of popcorn. 

Dick turns to you winking. "Yeah, just give him the puppy eyes and he'll  get you anything you want in 2 seconds flat." 

"Dick…" 

"It's true!"

"Even a carnival?" 

"Can we please just watch the movie?" Bruce says, in an almost pleading voice. 

"I wouldn't hold my breath, old man," Jason chuckles, earning a glare from both Bruce and Damian. "It's not like you know how to shut up, Todd." 

"Sorry, I don’t speak gremlin."

"That's bull Jay!" 

"MOVIE IS STILL GOING ON! SHUT YOUR CAKE HOLES." 

“I TOLD YOU IT WAS THE BUTLER.”

“Yes, yes, it has been publiced and noted, Birdie,” you giggle into Tim’s side, shaking your head. He wraps his arm around you, pressing a kiss into your hair, winking at you. “Does it count?” Tim asks over his shoulder. A look passes between him and Cass. “I don’t think so,” she says grinning. 

“It so does! It’s one of the endings,” Dick protests vehemently. Jason’s mouth flattens then curls into a grin. “By that logic, the old man is right too.”

Dick thinks for a moment, tapping his chin. “Well, we can’t have that.”

“Why not?” Bruce protests. 

"I'm still sticking with the butler. I'm sorry this is the only logical conclusion." 

"He wasn't even an actual butler you butter brain!" Steph protests, throwing a pillow at Dick. 

"I'm sorry but can we address why you're all mounting a mutiny against me?" 

"Teenage rebellion!" Dick answers. 

"Chum, you're not even a teenager." 

"Father's right. At most, Grayson is five years old," Damian pipes from beside Dick seemingly unaffected by his brother's pout. 

"Alfred, you're going to have to check my blood pressure before patrol." 

"Quite, sir."

“They’re all so dramatic just like you said,” you whisper into Tim’s shoulder. 

“I AM NOT DRAMATIC”

“Ah, yes, because the pretty man pose is so pragmatic.” Damian deadpan.  

"That was one time, you assholes!" 

"Hey, what else did Timmy say?" 

"Well he- Oh wait!" You fish out your phone and Tim snacthes it away faster than you can blink. "No-" cough "-you don't." Cough. 

Jason snatches it from him, snickering at the photo of Tim kissing you on the cheek. You're pretty sure Tim has a matching photo with you kissing him on the cheek. "Nice lockscreen, (y/n)."

"Oh, you should see the homescreen!" 

"No. Please don't. You might need eye bleach." 

"Relax Space Cadet, it’s not that one." 

"Ohohoho, what didn't you want big daddy bats to see? Haaa, Timbo?" 

Tim turns every shade of red before settling on fire hydrant red. "None of your business!"

Bruce clears his throat, looking at a stupidly expensive watch. “It’s time.” Dick springs up, stretching and showing off.  “Is it really that time already?” Steph asks in almost a whine. Duke and Cass take the opportunity to shove her off and sadly, she lands with a loud thud and a mangled curse. You wince but laugh unsympathetically which simply earns you a face full of dust covered popcorn. You frown at her and she grins at you as Jason hauls her up by her hoodie. “C’mon Blondie. Let’s leave the love birds alone.”

“It’s not like they’re actually gonna be alone. Alfie’s here. So is Babs.”

“I’m going back to my place. You people give me a headache.” 

“You say that like you weren’t having fun,” Dick teases, walking after her. 

“I’ll be down in the cave if you need me,” Alfred says waving at both of you. “Will do, Alf,” Tim yawns, nuzzling into your hair. 

Cass pops her head back in. “Make sure Tim doesn’t do anything stupid,” She calls back. You grin, bright and wolfish. “Don’t worry! He can’t do me while he’s sick.” You hear Bruce choke in the hall and you just know that you’ll mentally kick yourself for that later. Luckily for you, Tim physically kicks you now. “What the hell?!” Cough. “Sorry, got caught in the moment.” You huff, trying to look a little sorry. Tim just glares more. “You’re not even close to sorry.”

“Ok. Yeah.”

“I have no idea why I love you sometimes.”

“My amazing personality?”

“Sure.”

“Love you too, Tim,” you chirp, kissing him. Tim’s lips feel hot after the quick peck and he pulls you closer. “I love you but I was pretty sure my family was gonna eat you alive.”

“They would have done it,” you hum, pausing before adding, “respectfully.”  

  Tag list: @batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish,@birdy-bat-writes,  @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-inkage, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell   @hyp-oh-critical @glorified-red

[ghostbustermelanieking]

some thoughts on mag 200

i’ve been having trouble articulating this, but i wanted to get some thoughts down on mag 200, and the ending of tma as a whole, now that i’ve heard the finale twice and had some time to process it all. putting this under a cut in case people don’t wanna see it -- there’s gonna be a lot of praise here, but also some legit criticism. this is a way to sort through my feelings more than anything else.

first off, relistening to the finale, and sitting on it for a while, has made me feel a hell of a lot better about the whole thing. the episode comes off a lot better when you’re not vibrating with fear and anticipation, in my opinion. the final statement was very fitting and cool -- not my favorite ever, but i can appreciate it a lot as a final closing for the fears. and i don’t have an ear for soundscaping but the sound in that statement was cool as hell. the jonah magnus gets fucking murdered scene is incredibly satisfying. a lot of other people have said this, but i love that jon finally got his revenge, and was able to lash out against jonah for all the years of manipulation and beng used, and for tim and sasha and everything else. that was perfect. i genuinely thought we might not get a scene like this after 193 but i am so glad we did. incredibly satisfying. the girls made it out!! i am very glad that they’re ok and moving on and seem to be leaning on each other. (By God I Will Wring Found Family Out Of This Podcast If It Kills Me.) and the admiral’s okay. love that

and the jonmartin ending. oh my god. while i was never the biggest fan of the possibility of martin having to kill jon, the way it went down was so painful and good. i loved that final scene. i love the ambiguity -- that they might have died but maybe they didn’t, maybe they’re all right and happy and we can decide for ourselves -- i love that i got exactly what i wanted, that i get to have my cake and eat it too, all the angst of a jmart death and still the possibility of happiness... i am going buckwild. i love it. the longer i spend with this ending, the happier i am with it. i really really loved it

on another note... i do have some reservations about the finale and the season as a whole. i understand peoples’ irritations with the finale, and while i’m trying to focus on the things i did like, i definitely have some irritations. for one, i definitely wish the finale had been longer. i would’ve loved to see more of what wtgfs and basira were doing, and the actual lighting of the archives, etc. and while i completely understand why the scene at the panopticon went as quickly as it did -- it comes off very much as wild, frantic impulse in the heat of the moment where they’re in danger and trying to protect each other -- i do wish it had gone a little slower. 

in my mind, the biggest issue in season 5 ended up being pacing. and this might be a personal preference thing -- there’s a lot of things within the show that i don’t personally vibe with, but i don’t necessarily think they’re badly written. but i do think season 5 was slow. and while slow things can certainly work in a certain context (season 4 comes off wildly slow til you listen to 160), i wish more of what actually happened in season 5 had been baked into the end game. the season felt like it had a lot of filler, which drives me mildly crazy, because the end game feels rushed and i don’t think it NEEDED to be. i liked a lot of what season 5 did -- there’s some impeccable episodes, the character interactions are weirdly lighter and softer than they have been in previous seasons, and i wouldn’t trade a lot of the things that it’s given us (all the jonmartin interactions, jon and georgie briefly rebuilding their friendship, martin and melanie friendship, wtgfs scenes and intimacy, backstory, lore, etc) for anything. but i do think it could’ve been structured and paced a little differently. i also think it could’ve given some more screentime to the character stuff we got from episodes like 161, 170, 186, 190, 191, 192, 199... i absolutely love both martin centric monologue episodes, but i hate that we didn’t get anything like that for jon. (or for melanie or georgie or basira...) the best episodes of the season, imo, are the ones that broke from traditional form of domain statement domain, and the ones that focused in hard on backstory, lore, character introspection, character interaction... i wish we had more of this. 

when it comes to the jonmartin arc... i know this has been a point of contention with a lot of people, but i don’t hate it at all. maybe it’s just because i relistened to the majority of the season back in january, but a lot of the more grating moments that seemed large week to week (martin pressuring jon to smite people, the disagreements they had earlier in the season, jon using martin as bait in 176, etc etc) come off a lot more minor when you’re binging. personally, relistening to act i made those interactions come off as things they were struggling with through continued support and reassurance. there were absolutely things i wanted addressed, especially with the “kill bill arc” -- the disagreements early in the season, and how it seemed to turn on its head in the argument they have in 194. (i didn’t like martin blaming jon for the kill bill arc and i was hoping it would get brought up.) i also wanted to see a discussion of martin going with annabelle in 194 -- i wasn’t really ever mad at martin for doing it, but i did want to see them talk it out. 

but! after relistening to 200, i think i have a better handle on why that couldn’t have happened. martin goes behind jon’s back to go with annabelle and they don’t talk about it; jon goes behind martin’s back to sabotage the plan everyone agrees on in order to prevent the fears from spreading. if they’d had a big talk about trust, and working through martin going off with annabelle, and then jon turned around and did the same thing, more or less... it would’ve completely soured that discussion. jon and martin needed to be in a place of discourse for this ending to work. 

honestly, the more i’ve thought about this final JM arc, the better i feel about it. sure, jon and martin are in a bad place, and they’ve gone behind each other’s backs and been somewhat selfish, but i don’t think this ruins their relationship. for one, martin’s break in trust comes from a place of wanting to save jon and the world. and for another, jon genuinely feels he is doing the right thing, making a decision he can live with. (i have my own opinions as to how ethical jon’s decision was, but that’s another post. and i think the muddy ethics of this ending are on purpose -- it’s horror, a genre that often doesn’t offer ethical decisions.) their final decisions and final moments come from a place of love and protectiveness, and they change their decisions for the other. they still love each other, through all of it. i don’t think these late stage betrayals equivalate jonmartin necessarily being doomed as a couple (not that anyone has said that, but it’s worth saying). and i think it’s important to remember that this is still a relatively new relationship. it existed for approximately three weeks before the literal apocalypse, and it’s been under an immense amount of stress, as well as the constant fear that one or both of them would die. (which they did.) i’m not saying that excuses certain things they’ve said or done, but i am saying i don’t think the relationship is doomed. i think, if jon and martin have survived, they’ll need to work through things. they’ll need to talk it all out. and they’ll be able to! they’ll heal from this one way or another. the tragedy isn’t that jonmartin is doomed, or toxic. it’s that these moments of betrayal are what dooms them. and the beautiful undercurrent of it all is that they still manage to come together, and make decisions that mean they stay together. and that wherever they are, they’re still together. 

all in all, i don’t think season 5 has been perfect, and i can make my peace with that. (tma’s worst is a hell of a lot better than most shows’ best.) (i also think it might be worth considering how covid could have affected certain aspects of how the season was written -- pandemics are stressful, and i can’t imagine what it’s like to finish an enormous, in the works for years project like this in the middle of that. personally, i’m impressed they’ve managed to finish the show through all of this and keep it to a similar quality.) i think critiques are valuable and worth discussing. and i think plot aspects aside, there are several other critique related things that could be brought up about this season that people have articulated much better than i ever could. but i also, personally, want to walk away from the show feeling satisfied. i tend to be weirdly positive about things i love (the x files finale was horrendous, but i managed to get to a place where i was happy with it, for example), and i think that applies here -- even more so because i really did love so many aspects of that finale. i don’t necessarily want to linger in my own mind over what i disliked, especially considering the show is over. although i did want to air out my thoughts. 

i still love this show. i loved a lot of episodes this season, frustrations aside. season 5 will forever be my only live tma experience, and it got me through one of the worst years of my life, and i am very grateful for this. i genuinely did just want to air out my thoughts and get them all down on paper. these are just my opinions -- i don’t want to criticize anyone who feels differently about the finale, or the season as a whole. everyone’s opinion is their own. 

i feel a lot, lot better about mag 200, to the point of genuinely loving it. i hope my appreciation only grows as i get further from that frenzied first day and have more time to sit with it. and i can’t wait to see all the art and read all of the amazing fics that are going to come out of this ending (and write some of my own). it’s been a wild ride. i’m glad i was here for it.

[hookingminor]

Halloween prompts. Number one “mortal enemies accidentally showing up in matching costumes every year” with Vince Dunn ??

mortal enemies accidentally showing up in matching costumes every fucking year

-

Un-fucking-believable.

God had some personal vendetta against you or thought this was the funniest running joke in the history of mankind, apparently, because you were about two seconds away from strangling someone.

“No, absolutely not,” you groaned when you saw Vince’s costume, “Go change right now.”

“Hello to you, too, babe,” Vince said cheerily, pulling you in for a side hug and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“Don’t ‘hello, babe’ me, we did not come together,” you scoffed, pushing him away by the chest before people saw you and presumed you were a couple.

Vince was wearing the complementary Scoops Ahoy costume to your Robin set, and you couldn’t understand how this happened. For the fourth time, you’ve unknowingly showed up in matching costumes with Vince.

The first time was set up by your friends, thinking it would be hilarious because the two of you hated each other.

The second time was accidental. Actually, you had showed up in a different costume, but due to someone spilling their drink on you, you had to shed some layers and slipped on an old NBA jersey the homeowner had. Coincidentally, Vince had worn the same jersey, deciding on a lazy look that year, and once again you were matching.

The third time, it technically wasn’t matching as you two had intended for different looks, but it looked similar enough that everyone just assumed they were matching. You had done your makeup intricately and wore a tattered wedding dress, going as Corpse Bride from the classic Tim Burton movie, and Vince had gone as Abraham Lincoln, though he lost the beard and top hat within twenty minutes and looked like a standard groom.

This year, however, you were so careful. You had told none of your friends your plans. You wanted no possibility of information leaking to Vince somehow about your costume.

God, it seemed, had other plans because here you were again.

“I think the universe is trying to tell us something,” Vince chuckled, following you into the kitchen where you had escaped in an attempt to avoid him.

“That you’re an annoying asshole who will go to, literally, any length to piss me off?” You suggested, pouring yourself an extra strong drink.

“I was thinking more along the lines of ‘maybe we should get together,’” Vince shrugged, and you rolled your eyes.

“Over my dead body,” you snorted, taking a long chug. Vince waited for you to toss your drink back before he spoke again.

“Do you really hate me that much?” He asked, and you swore you saw his face fall just a little bit.

“As much as you hate me,” you replied with a forced smile. Vince gave you a dramatic eye roll to let you know you were being ridiculous.

“I never said I hated you,” he said, and now it was your turn to roll your eyes.

“Your actions say enough,” you muttered.

From the moment you’d met, you’d never gotten along. There wasn’t a definitive reason or instance that made you hate him, but you always clashed at every turn. Every time you suggested dinner, he was never in the mood for that type of food. Every time he wanted to go out and do something, you hated all his ideas. Little disagreements like those just continued to build up and over time, it just got to the point where the two of you refused the other’s suggestions out of spite. You were too proud to admit when he was right and he would never apologize to you so you both let it simmer and stew.

Not wanting to continue conversation with him anymore, you pushed your way past his body and into the party in hopes of disappearing into the crowd.

You’d managed to avoid him for a half hour or so, but even with him somewhere else, he was still with you.

“I saw your boyfriend earlier,” the guy that you thought you’d been flirting with said after a few minutes, “I love your guys’ costumes.”

“Oh, he’s not my boyfriend,” you chuckled awkwardly, “It was purely coincidental.”

“I just talked to him a little while ago, and he definitely insinuated that you were his girlfriend. He was asking people if they’ve seen you. It sounded like he was looking for you,” the stranger explained, but you were already seeing red by the end of his first sentence.

“I’m sorry, you’ll have to excuse me,” you politely excused yourself with a strained smile.

Walking away with purpose, you roamed the house in an angry stomp until you found Vince tucked away near the pong table, clearly caught in the middle of a game.

You strode up to him with furrowed brows and a clenched jaw when you heard him laughing with his friends. You stopped next to him, reached up to grab him by the ear, and dragged him behind you as you searched for a quiet space to kill him in.

You walked all the way to an abandoned bedroom at the furthest corner of the house and, quite literally, threw him in the room before slamming the door behind you.

“What the fuck is your problem, Dunn?” You exclaimed as you turned on him with crossed arms, “Do you think it’s fun to cockblock me all night?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” He asked instead, deciding to play dumb.

“Telling other people we’re together? Is this a joke to you?” As the seconds passed, you were getting progressively more upset.

“It’s kind of funny,” he muttered under his breath with a light laugh, and you swore you never wanted to strangle anyone more in your entire life.

“You’re unbelievable,” you scoffed, “You know what? Do me a favor and ignore me for the rest of the night.... Actually, no, for the rest of your life.” Turning on your heels to leave the room, you reached for the door with one hand, but Vince was leaping forward before you could exit.

“No, wait,” he rushed out quickly, pulling you back around to face him, “I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry? That’s all you have to say?” His cheeks heated instantly, and he averted your gaze.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, okay? It was childish and stupid,” he confessed, but it only confused you more.

“Why?”

Vince took a few seconds to respond, but he still held onto your wrist. You raised your eyebrows as you waited for him to continue.

“Ikindofhaveacrushonyou,” he mumbled quickly.

“What?” You asked, not sure if you’d heard him correctly.

“I have a crush on you,” he admitted, “and I acted like an asshole because of it.”

“What?” You repeated, though this time it was more in disbelief and shock than misunderstanding.

“I know I deserve it, but you don’t have to be a dick about it,” he said timidly. In all your time knowing Vince Dunn, he never got shy. Until now.

“I’m not being a dick, I’m just genuinely confused,” you said softly. Probably the first time you’d ever spoken to Vince with a soft tone.

“I thought you were cute and that we had a good banter going, but at some point I probably took it too far which lead to all of this,” he gestured vaguely between the two of you, “and then the only relationship we had was when we were fighting, so I kept it up.”

“That’s the worst way to show a girl you like her,” you replied in a monotone voice. If it weren’t for the slight smile that quirked at the corners of your lips, Vince would’ve thought you were about to kick him.

“I know, it was dumb,” he chuckled, “but then some guys were talking about you, so I acted before I could think.”

“Did you plan all this? All these years?” You questioned.

Vince gave you a slight shrug, “The first two times, no. The third time, yeah a little bit.”

“And tonight?”

“I may have asked your roommate to find out. She only agreed because she knows I’ve been after you for a while now.”

“You know if you had just asked me out like a regular person, I probably would have said yes,” you replied, “I thought you were cute when I first saw you too.”

He lifted his eyes to meet yours.

“And then you opened your mouth.”

Vince laughed heartily at that, the tension in the room dissipating as you joined in with him. Taking a tentative step closer, you took the hand that was still holding your wrist to grip your waist as you felt your way up his shoulders. His eyes widened at your close proximity, and you could see him take a deep breath in.

“Ask me now,” you stated, curling your hand around his neck.

He released the breath he was holding in.

“Y/N, would you like to go on a date with me?” Vince asked.

You pretended to ponder your answer for a moment before you finally replied.

“Yeah, I guess. I have nothing better to do.”

“God, you’re insufferable,” Vince groaned, dropping his head against your shoulder in defeat. You let out a small chuckle, and you felt his lips smiling against your skin.

Pulling his head back up to eye level, you gave him a warm smile.

“I’d love to go on a date with you, Vince.”

[dalekofchaos]

Harbinger and The Illusive Man

Something I think would’ve fixed Mass Effect 3 while also keeping the plot and the dynamic of The Reapers and Cerberus as the main threat is making Harbinger the big bad and The Illusive Man as his puppet or as The Illusive Man could’ve put it his “partner”

My other ME3 metas

ME3 mistakes

ME3 ending fix

I cannot state how much I hate that Harbinger is almost nonexistent in this game. 

The thing that annoyed me most about ME3 is the fact that Harbinger is not the main threat. The Illusive Man is. Harbinger has been built up as the big bad since ME2. "YOU HAVE FAILED. WE WILL FIND ANOTHER WAY." He says as he discards the Collectors. Then his speech to Shepard as the base blows up. "Human, you've changed nothing. Your species has the attention of those infinitely your greater. That which you know as Reapers are your salvation through destruction. You will surrender your potential against the growing void. We return, and you will rise. We are the harbinger of your perfection. We will bring your species into harmony with our own. Your species will be raised to a new existence. We are the beginning, you will be the end. Prepare for our domination. Prepare for our coming." Then in Arrival, he came pretty damn close to unleashing quick subjugation and harvest upon an unprepared galaxy. Upon Shepard foiling his plans. "Shepard. You have become an annoyance. You fight against inevitability. Dust struggling against cosmic winds. This seems a victory to you. A star system sacrificed. But even now, your greatest civilizations are doomed to fall. Your leaders will beg to serve us. Know this as you die in vain: Your time will come. Your species will fall. Prepare yourselves for the Arrival." The perfect final villain right? Unfortunately, Cerberus was more focused on than The Reapers. My problem with Cerberus and no Harbinger is Too many Cerberus, too few Reaper forces in plot. We fight Cerberus more often than the reapers. Hardly any boss fight and the one with Reaper Destroyer on Rannoch was more an interactive movie than fight. During the Horizon mission in Mass Effect 2, Harbinger was solidified as the Big Bad. It was menacing and ominous, with just the right amount of annoying. It taunted us throughout the game, telling us how insignificant we were, and how our actions were pointless. It was willing to posses drones through the Collector General to fight us personally, and when we killed the host, it tossed them aside. Harbinger even gave the typical “You haven’t seen the last of me!” villain rant. It made any fire fight frustrating, and that made me want to kill it even more; I hated Harbinger. Many games fail to do that. Harbinger was an enemy which I looked forward to defeating. I had the desire to annihilate. In Mass Effect 3, I got a codex entry and a cameo. Harbinger just swoops in at the last second and blows my friends and I to hell(and lets the Normandy save them), then flies off. Personally, I would have loved to hear Harbinger’s menacing monologue, it drove me on. I would have felt a deeper motivation to take the fight back to Earth if it told me how much destruction the Reapers were causing, how many lives were lost. I felt cheated when I got to the final mission, only to suddenly realize it was largely absent from the game. Harbinger has been replaced. Replaced by the Illusive Man and Kai Leng. The former is an old acquaintance, albeit one now controlled by the Reapers. The latter is a space ninja from a terrible book.

I will admit. The Illusive Man is a worthy foe and someone worthy enough to be Harbinger’s Saren. Kai Leng however is a terrible counterpart for Shepard. 

Kai Leng. Sucks. Period. Here is a long in depth version on why he sucks. Even in the novels Leng is a terrible character. He’s a edgelord racist.  He couldn’t even kill Anderson, he almost got taken out by an aging Drell with stage 7 Drell cancer. Oh but he has snarky one liners and he sent that stupid fucking email after Thesia. KAI LENG SUCKS! He is not even interesting. I genuinely fucking sighed when he was introduced. When he killed Thane, all I could think of was “really?”. When he sent that little email I just rolled my eyes. When I saw him at the temple all I could think of was “not you again”. When he “beat” me on Thessia(I would have unloaded my N7 Typhoon and sent his whiny ass into oblivion, but game mechanics said I couldn’t) I just felt angry that such a stupid character ever made it past the writing board. Oh and BULLSHIT. Thane and Kirrahe would have killed Kai Leng. Even near his death bed, Thane could still kill Kai Leng. Kirrahe is a hardened veteran, he is AN STG MAJOR! Kirrahe would have killed Kai Leng in a blink of a fucking eye.  Here is my take on Kai Leng. He should have been killed on Priority:Citadel. If you do not save Kirrahe or don’t talk to Thane. Shepard should kill Kai Leng. If you saved Kirrahe but don’t talk to Thane. Kirrahe comes out of cloak and bombards Leng with Scorpion rounds and Leng blows up. If you talked to Thane, Thane would blow Kai Leng’s head off. The only reason why Leng is presented as a threat is cutscene logic and bad one liners. 

But back to The Illusive Man and Harbinger

To make Harbinger work as the big bad, we need to have Harbinger constantly “ASSUME DIRECT CONTROL” 

Near the end of the first mission, before Shepard contacts the Normandy, we would see Harbinger’s hologram appear like it did in Arrival. Harbinger taunting Shepard. that the harvest begins. 

Instead of suggesting Control, The Illusive Man is basically saying The Reapers can uplift Humanity and ascend them and dominate the other races. With Harbinger’s help, Humanity will be the ultimate force in the galaxy

Everytime we fight Reaper forces, Harbinger is there to “ASSUME DIRECT CONTROL”

Kai Leng dies on The failed coup on the Citadel. The Illusive Man does not care as he is close to finding The Catalyst 

On Rannoch, instead of a Destroyer Reaper talking to Shepard, Harbinger’s hologram will appear. Harbinger will continue to taunt Shepard, but Shepard shows that everyone is coming together to end the Reapers once and for all. Harbinger would not say that the Reapers are needed to keep synthetics from killing organics. He would say The Reapers are there to ascend and are your salvation through destruction. Harbinger’s end quotes from ME2 is basically the premise of The Reapers end goals. That's all it needed to be.

On Thesia, The Illusive Man will explain to Shepard that Harbinger chose him. After The First Contact War, TIM found a Reaper artifact. In that artifact, he was contacted by Harbinger. He lost his human vision, but awakened to the truth and because of Harbinger’s guidance, he founded Cerberus. Strength for Cerberus is strength for humanity. TIM believes he and Harbinger together they could uplift and empower humanity over the lesser races. The Illusive Man is to Harbinger, as what Saren was for Soverign. He will then tell Shepard, he plans on using the Crucible to finish what the Collectors started. Completing the Human Reaper. Then TIM sends a group of Phantoms, Nemesis and Cerberus Dragons to face Shepard in place of Leng. Thesia falls. 

Sanctuary is used to create Husks and harvest humans to help create the Human Reaper

At Cerberus Headquarters, TIM says Harbinger knew more about the Citadel than Soverign. There is more than one Conduit and he found it. Vendetta will reveal that the Citadel was moved by Harbinger and taken it to Earth to complete the harvest

The confrontation between Shepard, Anderson and TIM happens but we know how TIM is on the Citadel and if you read my ending fix, you will know that Anderson would’ve went to the beam with Shepard and they are transported to the same place

Shepard will ask “Why didn’t Harbinger kill me?” “Because, we need you to understand and we need you to believe”

Same confrontation ends with either Shepard shooting TIM dead or TIM killing himself after Shepard uses paragon or renegade to reveal that Harbinger used him all his life

After Anderson passes. Harbinger “Assumes Control” over TIM’s dead body. Harbinger will explain the purpose of the Harvests. The explanation is the original ending of Dark energy. The Reapers as a whole were ‘nations’ of people who had fused together in the most horrific way possible to help find a way to stop the spread of the Dark Energy. The real reason for the Human Reaper was supposed to be the Reapers saving throw because they had run out of time. Humanity in Mass Effect is supposedly unique because of its genetic diversity and represented the universe’s best chance at stopping Dark Energy’s spread. We have a choice either Sacrifice humanity, allowing them to be horrifically processed in hopes that the end result will justify the means or use The Crucible to destroy The Reapers and find a way to stop the dark energy from spreading and it shows it is hopeful with a united galaxy. However, if we choose destroy, Harbinger will attempt to stop Shepard. A Reaperfied TIM appears and Shepard fights him, while The Normandy fights Harbinger. If we choose sacrifice humanity, Shepard will be the final catalyst to completing the Human Reaper.  But obviously no one will choose that choice as the entire point of the trilogy is to destroy The Reapers. So we get a hopeful ending. The united galaxy will work together to stop the spread of dark energy, as Hackett said “If we can put aside our grievances long enough to stop The Reapers, imagine what we can do together” 

There, I came up with a way to have the best of both worlds. Harbinger and The Illusive Man as the big bads. 

I also made The Reapers motivation to actually work. They are there to control the chaos. The harvests end with a creation of The Reaper and The Reapers are the pinnacle of evolution Harbinger’s speech at the end of ME2 was enough for a motivation. The Reapers are our salvation from the coming void. They want to ascend humanity to perfection. That makes complete sense and makes more sense than destroying everyone to save everyone????? WHo fucking wrote this Starchild garbage???

The point is, The Reapers and The Illusive Man could’ve worked as the big bads collectively together.