#AND the fact that tim was the stronger one between the two of them cause he got to keep his promise of not writing in the end

[babygirlgellerbing]

for me it’s the fact that hawk said “i won’t” after tim said “promise you won’t write” in 54 and every time they saw each other after that was because hawk reached out. the job offer, the hideout in the cabin, fire island all happened because hawk wasn’t strong enough to keep his promise. strong enough to stay away from tim.

[outoftheframework]

characterization cheat sheet: the batfamily boys

Hey everyone! I had the idea to compile a comprehensive list of different traits and attributes for each member of the batfamily based off of both canon and fanon interpretations. I think this could be useful for new members to the fandom, or those looking to write and/or draw for these characters. Remember that these will have a slight bias considering I, a fanon creator, am creating the lists. But I’ll try to make them as accurate as possible.

Appearances vary from artist to artist, so I’ll try to stray away from general details and add more little things you can consider in your art.

Bruce Wayne:

Age: 35-45

Appearance: Extremely physically fit, but signs of aging and prolonged exertion can slip through. Has a collection of scattered scars varying from fresh to fully healed. Strong, dark features. Conventionally attractive, but can easily switch to be foreboding/intimidating. Well kept in public appearances, but can look like death incarnate when in private.

Personality: Dual personas: “Bruce” (at home, but not as batman) and “Brucie” (public appearances like galas, news interviews). Bruce is stoic, well-read and educated, well-mannered, and occasionally can be witty and laid-back. Smirks rather than smiles. Brucie is loud, spontaneous, charming, and sometimes oblivious. He is the womanizer and scandal-maker. Often the actions of Brucie are motivated by Batman’s interests.

Speech: Bruce was mainly raised by as English butler, so his speech patterns are proper and smooth. Rarely uses speech fillers such as “uh” and “um,” except when interrupted while concentrating. Despite living in Gotham his entire life, he has not picked up the accent. His voice is newscaster American, almost impossible to pinpoint to a certain region. His speech as Brucie changes to relate more to the audience he is addressing. Speeches to Gotham high society will sound different than those aimed to the general public.

Additional Attributes: Bruce Wayne in all of his personalities is fiercely protective, and can easily slip into a deeper voice to intimidate. Bruce can be extremely empathetic and slightly impulsive when it comes to children who have lost their parents. As learned through his training to become Batman, Bruce is disciplined and can work for hours straight.

Dick Grayson:

Age: 23-29

Appearance: Dick Grayson mirrors a young Bruce Wayne despite their not being blood related. This could be a subconscious action by Dick to absorb traits of his father figure. His lean acrobatic body starts to set him apart from Bruce’s image. Dick manages to be well-built but still limber and flexible. His feet and hands are rough and calloused. His hair can get long but usually stays at a length in between Bruce’s and Tim’s. His eyes are bright blue without even a hint of green or brown. 

Personality: In one comic I believe it was Superman who said that Dick Grayson is a universal constant, meaning that on every alternate earth or timeline, you can always rely on him to be good and pure. I think this really sums up who Dick should be. He is kind to a fault, and can sometimes be naive and not think things through. He loves to love, be that in his family, in his romantic relationships, in his friendships, and even in strangers. He is a chronic hero who only wants to see the world as a better place. But it’s important to note that Dick can get angry when pushed, and holds grudges.

Speech: Dick is an extremely interesting study in speech patterns. As a child he traveled with the circus, until he lived with clear-spoken Bruce Wayne and a proper English butler. So influences to his speech and accent come both internationally and locally to Gotham and Bludhaven. As a child living at Wayne Manor, Dick picks up a slight Gotham tinge to his accent with some British flourish in his vowel sounds. He regularly speaks in slang. As Nightwing he is able to suppress his unique speech to sound more evenly American.

Additional Attributes: Dick acts differently around each of his family members as to be what they need in a big brother. For example, he is more fatherly to Damian while to Tim he is more an equal. Dick can fidget and has less of an attention span than Bruce. He can use jokes as a coping mechanism.

Jason Todd: 

Age: 22-26

Appearance: Hair is often long on top and shorter on the sides, sometimes with a white streak as a side effect from the Lazarus Pit. Tallest and heaviest of all the kids, very physically intimidating. Has a lot of scars and burns, and in some fan works he has a “Y” shaped scar the length of his chest from his autopsy. Never skips leg day. Green/blue eyes.

Personality: Jason goes through a lot of character development, but for this list I’m going off a timeline of post-Under the Red Hood, where Jason is on okay, yet still a little shaky, terms with the rest of the family. Jason has a hard time separating vigilante life and civilian life; his death as Robin ended his life as Jason Todd, blurring the lines between the two. Jason is legally dead, so he is basically building an identity back up. He holds some attributes from childhood: brave, impulsive, loud-mouthed, and street-smart. But his experiences post-Robin have made him a hardened loner. He lives modestly and with some semblance of order. He’s hard to foster a relationship with, but can be a passionate friend/family member when he opens up.

Speech: Jason probably has the least influence from Bruce and Alfred’s speech patterns, seeing as though he spent a lot more time with his biological family/on the streets than he did as a preteen in the manor. He is the definition of Gotham vernacular, with a rough edge. So much so that as a child, the high society gala attenders sometimes had a hard time understanding him. Often talks in curt, short sentences.

Additional Attributes: He has trouble expressing his emotions, more specifically anger and/or grief. Can both love or hate furiously. Inherently good, but sometimes does “bad” things. Protective over children, especially those living on the street. Very much a believer in “the ends justify the means.”

Tim Drake:

Age: 17-20

Appearance: Pale skin, dark hair. Sharp cheek bones and jawline, mostly from how skinny he is. His body isn’t technically “built” to be extremely athletic, but he’s forced a nice lean build from stringently working out. Easily loses and gains weight as a direct result of his work, causing fluctuations in his build. Five foot something, will eventually be out-grown by Damian. Long hair that can still be styled to look professional.

Personality: Tim Drake is very passionate in pretty much everything he sets his mind to. He feels as though he imposed himself onto Batman to become Robin, so he works twice as hard to prove his worth. He can be self conscious and deprecating. Tim as Robin or Red Robin is very different than civilian Tim; his hero personas can be bolder and more confident. Despite dropping out of high school, he values education.

Speech: Tim grew up rich, and his speech reflects an intelligence gained from private tutors. Despite this, he knows how to interact with those his age in using less formal language and slang. Often quotes books and movies. Can be awkward and stumble over his words when teased by his friends/family. He can manipulate people easily in business settings by talking fast and confidently while explaining complex topics.

Additional Attributes: Tim’s demeanor is directly tied to his varying levels of confidence and anxiety. Tim is has above-average intelligence and is diligent in detective work, but can still act like a teenager. He can be stubborn to extremes and will patiently play the long con. He does not cope well with loss.

Duke Thomas:

Age: 17-19

Appearance: Short dark hair, shaved on the sides and/or the back. Often wears the colors yellow and black. Around the same height as Tim, but a little taller. Stronger and heavier build more alike to Jason than Dick, but he’s still light on his feet. Expressive face that can give away his feelings easily. Still a bit of a baby face, but he’s still well-proportioned and conventionally handsome.

Personality: In my works, I’ve often described Duke as having a “sun-shiny” personality. He is one to not even think twice about putting others before himself. Duke uses his own personal experiences to guide him as a hero rather than suppress his emotions. Duke went from being an only child to having a large family, so he can sometimes feel overwhelmed. He is on friendly terms with every member of the batfamily, as well as many other heroes. Duke is self-sacrificial and is still learning how to effectively work as a detective.

Speech: Duke grew up in a middle class Gotham family, so his speech is influenced by his parents as well as his city environment. Duke has a mild Gotham accent and speaks a lot in modern slang. He hasn’t had much influence from Bruce and Alfred, considering he hasn’t lived with them for long. It’s possible that as he grows he will pick up some influences from Bruce and Tim’s way of speaking, but will most likely hold onto the accent of his childhood.

Additional Attributes: Duke is a metahuman vigilante in a city where Batman typically bans them, which causes a bit of an insecurity and a perfectionist drive. These are exasperated by the long line of history preceding him, as well as the fact that he involved himself in the Robin movement rather than being handpicked by Batman. He and Tim can relate in that way. Duke is an ardent student of Batman and is dedicated to the cause.

Damian Wayne:

Age: 10-14

Appearance: Looks similar to Bruce when he was the same age, yet stronger and with tanner skin. His hair is expertly cut and styled, but still age-appropriate. He is the shortest of the batkids, but still has a lot of time and potential to grow. He pretty much won the genetics lottery with Bruce and Talia as his biological parents, and is made for athletics. He has some scars that stand out with their pale coloring against his tan skin. 

Personality: Damian is slowly becoming less of a brat, to put it bluntly. He admires his family and tries to mimic them, but will never confess it. Damian is quick to judge and will voice his opinion no matter how scathing it may be, both as civilian and hero. Damian is slowly realizing he may not want the Batman mantle as quickly as he planned. Jon is a perfect foil to Damian, and often makes him a better person when they’re together. 

Speech: His speech is proper and formal. Prefers formal titles: ex. “father” over “dad” and last names over first. Damian is at least bilingual (Arabic and English), and can switch between languages easily. Most of his speech patterns developed from his tutors in the League, and more recently, Alfred. Influences like Jon and Dick have introduced him to a more modern, laid-back way of speaking, which he sometimes utilizes when relaxed.

Additional Attributes: Damian has problems with authority, especially those that he doesn’t respect like his teachers at school. He can be arrogant and childish ever though he often acts like he knows everything. Damian is still a child and has much to learn from batman and family as well as unlearn from his time at the League. Dami was forged to be a ruthless warrior, but now has to find a balance between the hero Robin and the child Damian Wayne.

Hope this helps someone! Feel free to add on if you think I missed anything. Just please remember to be civil and respect different interpretations of these characters. Let me know if you want another one of these posts outlining the girls or other characters.

[dessarious]

How the Sirens Adopted a Ladybug Pt1

So when I was writing the last chapter of How to Not Get a Date it went full blown angst. Since that wasn’t what I wanted for that story and rewrote the chapter that I posted but the other idea decided to blow up into yet another story so here we go again.

AO3   Next

“I don’t suppose I could convince you not to steal that?” Catwoman spun around to find a girl in what looked like a dark red armored suit with black spots. In the Louvre at two in the morning. What the hell?

“And just what are you supposed to be?” The girl just gave her a sardonic smile and Catwoman couldn’t help but notice how tired she looked.

“I’m Ladybug. Hero of Paris.” The sarcastic tone was unexpected and it took her a minute to actually process the words.

“Since when does Paris have Heroes?”

“Since some megalomaniac found a Miraculous and decided to use it for his own selfish desires. If not for the fact that he targets people with strong negative emotions I wouldn’t care what you do. But since the last time the curator of this exhibit was Akumatized it was a three day battle, I would really like to avoid it if I can.” She just continued to frown at the girl. That couldn’t be real.

“Did Harley and Ivy put you up to this?” That just got her confused frown mirrored back at her. She was either a really good actress or she wasn’t lying.

“Look, this exhibit is moving to London in under two weeks. Could you please just wait until it leaves Paris to take whatever it is you’re after?” This was so strange. She claimed to be a hero but didn’t seem to care that Catwoman was stealing, just that it would become her problem. Even most of the bats frowned upon that sort of thing.

“So you’re just going to let me walk out of here like nothing happened?” She sighed and ran a hand through her hair, refusing to make eye contact.

“The police have made it clear that it is not my job to apprehend criminals.” There was a lot of anger under those words. Catwoman walked up to the girl and gently lifted her head so she could study her. Seriously, what was it with black hair and blue eyes? Between the bats and Superman she was starting to wonder if it wasn’t a coincidence.

“When was the last time you slept?” She watched Ladybug’s eyes unfocus as she searched for the answer. “How about the last time you ate?” That produced a flinch.

“I can take care of myself.” Well that wasn’t a good reaction. The girl reminded her a bit of Tim and Jason. The sleep deprivation was all the baby CEO but the amorality screamed mister gun nut.

“I’m sure you can. I’ll tell you what; I’ll do what you want but in return you’ll come with me to meet a couple of my friends and let us feed you.” She hesitated but Catwoman didn’t see any worry in her expression. She wasn’t scared of being alone with criminals so it was likely pride holding her back. “I want to talk to you more about the situation here. It’s odd that I haven’t heard about it.”

“No it’s not. The Miraculous magic is very good at containing itself. Very few people outside of Paris have any idea what is going on.” That tone was odd. There was a trace of bitterness but it was mostly resigned.

“How old are you?” The way she held herself said she was experienced in what she did, but everything else screamed that she was still just a kid.

“Old enough to do what must be done.”  Yep, she was dealing with a baby.

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

“Will you quit worrying? I’m sure everything’s just fine.” Ivy just shot Harley an annoyed glance. She loved the woman to death but she really needed to take things a bit more seriously sometimes.

“She’s two hours late Harls, that’s a time frame for worry. Not to mention I’ve felt off ever since we got here. There’s something wrong with this city and I don’t like it.” She was constantly on edge and her skin felt like it was trying to crawl off her body. Ivy wanted nothing more than for Selina to get back so they could leave. Sightseeing be damned.

“As always your instincts are dead on.” She let out a relieved breath and turned to yell at Selina for trying to give her a heart attack but couldn’t manage to speak once she saw the person with her. Or rather once she felt the power coming off of them. She pulled Harley behind her and prepared for the worst. Selina was just looking at her like she was insane but the girl was studying her.

“Seriously, you’re scared of a kid?” Harley’s words made her really look at the person and that just made her more worried. Given what she felt this girl was capable of destroying the world without even trying.

“How can you not feel that? The energy radiating from her should be enough that even you should feel it.” Harley and Selina both just looked confused but the girl looked surprised.

“You can actually feel it?” Ivy just nodded. “I’ve never met anyone who could sense the Miraculous before. Whatever you sense though, I assure you I don’t mean any harm. There’s only one person I actually want to maim and I have a feeling when the time comes I won’t even be able to do that.” Well that was… odd. Even Harley was eyeing the girl like she had a screw loose.

“This is Ladybug. She’s a hero here in Paris.” Well that at least explained why she was late. “She’s asked me to hold off on my transaction until it leaves Paris.”

“And you agreed? She’s just going to go to the cops and make things more difficult for you later.” Harley’s words caused anger and hurt to flash across her expression before she controlled it.

“I said I wouldn’t. They wouldn’t take me seriously if I did anyway.” Now she saw why Selina brought her back with her. The girl looked like a stray cat. The stiff way she held herself was exactly like a cat who’d learned that people can’t be trusted, but she refused to run or show fear either. Then Ivy noticed the girls hair and eyes and almost groaned out loud. Selina had been spending so much time with her boyfriend that she was picking up his adoption preferences.

“I wanted to talk with her more about what’s going on here in Paris. We should order food since I have a feeling it’s going to be a long discussion.” Ivy saw the girl's cheeks turn pink and took the time to really look at her. She was the kind of thin that came from not eating rather than just being fit. Her mask hid any bags that might be under her eyes, but even standing still her body was swaying a little. The girl looked like she was about to pass out.

“Of course. Here, have a seat.” Ivy made chairs out of plants for everyone and the girl's face went completely blank before she turned to Selina.

“Is that normal for her?” Harley just started giggling but Selina gave Ladybug a sympathetic smile.

“Yes, Ivy has the power to control plants.” Ladybug let out a relieved sigh.

“Thank Kwami. I don’t think I’m up for another Akuma today.” Ivy shared a confused look with Harley. What the hell was an Akuma?

“You’re fighting people that control plants?” The girl blinked at her in confusion for a moment before understanding dawned.

“No, it’s complicated. I haven’t had to explain this to someone in a long time so I might not make much sense.” She sat while Harley went to order food. Ivy sat across from her and noticed how she melted into the seat. She obviously wasn’t used to being comfortable. When Harley came back in the room they were about to start asking questions when a little black cat shaped creature appeared. It was emitting just as much power as the girl.

“I don’t suppose any of you are willing to spring for camembert?” Harley gave out a squeak of surprise but Catwoman just looked stunned.

“Plagg! Are you out of your mind? Not to mention how rude it is.” Ladybug couldn’t seem to decide whether to be annoyed or embarrassed.

“Given that this one steals for a living I doubt they stand on good manners. Besides, you don’t know if you don’t ask.” The cheeky tone caused an eye twitch in the girl.

“What exactly is that?” Selina hadn’t stopped staring at the creature.

“I’m Plagg, Kwami of Destruction. I power the Black Cat Miraculous.” The girl actually threw her hands up in frustration.

“Tikki’s going to kill us both. Of all the people you could have decided to come out for why would you choose criminals?” Poor kid sounded close to tears and the creature flew up under her chin and started purring. Selina was grinning like a mad woman. Ivy had a feeling things were about to get a lot more complicated.

“Everything will be fine Bug, you’ll see. I’m the Kwami of bad luck and I can feel yours shifting.”

“I thought you said you were the Kwami of Destruction?” Selina sounded far too amused. Ivy shook her head at the woman. She still didn’t understand how no one else could feel the danger here.

“I’m both, just as Tikki is the Kwami of Creation and Good Luck, which is the Miraculous that gives Ladybug her powers.” The Kwami suddenly flew right up to Ivy to study her. “You’re an interesting being. Your abilities are inherently creation but you use them to destroy as well. She could be a good influence for you Bug.” Ladybug let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“I’m not using your powers to smite the people you think have wronged me Plagg. And I would really like to stop having this argument.”  

“You act like it’s an opinion rather than a fact. Even Tikki agrees with me there.” The Kwami sounded indignant and more than a little angry. The energy around it was getting steadily stronger. They really needed to divert it’s attention.

“What were you saying about camembert?” The Kwami perked up immediately but Ladybug cringed.

“Kwami need food to recharge and while just about anything will do in a pinch they each have favorites. Plagg’s favorite is extremely smelly and extremely pricy cheese. Which I haven’t been able to provide for awhile now.” Plagg’s expression dropped at her tone.

“Oh kit, it’s not your fault.” The creature flew back to her and began purring again. Ladybug wouldn’t look anyone in the eye but Ivy could feel the guilt and worry coming from her. Whatever was going on this kid needed a break.

“I just need to go change. Then I can run to the store while we wait for the rest of the food.” Plagg looked ecstatic at Selina’s announcement. Ladybug looked mostly worried but there was a bit of relief under that.

“I wasn’t kidding when I said it was expensive. I feel bad enough, don’t let them guilt you into buying something that isn’t really necessary.” Selina scoffed.

“I know exactly how temperamental some creatures are about food and given Ivy’s reaction I’d like to stay on their good side for the moment. Besides, the money isn’t an issue.” She was walking out of the room before the girl could respond. Instead she frowned at Plagg who was still looking after Selina.

“I thought we agreed no more surprises.”

“Tikki and Wayzz agreed, I didn’t. Besides, an opportunity is presenting itself that we don’t want to miss.” Ivy shared a confused look with Harley, who just shrugged at her. Ladybug seemed just as clueless about what they meant. That couldn’t be a good thing.

AO3      Next

[voiceless-terror]

Hey, I hope I'm not bothering you, but I wanted to know if you're still taking requests? My friend cinnamoniic's birthday is coming up (around the seccond week of march) and I know they're a fan! If you have time, could you fit is a short Jontim or Jonmartim? That would be really cool!!! (As a surprise, please only publish this ask if you're able to take the request)

hello, not bothering at all! I don’t know if this is early or late but happy birthday @cinnamoniic !! a silly little jonmartim for my favorite artist!!

Tim is very, very happy to have his boyfriends over for the night.

It’s their first overnight and he’s looking forward to falling asleep in Martin’s arms and cuddling up close to Jon, whatever happens first. And that’s why he’s placed himself right between the two, Jon lying on the side of the bed against the wall and Martin insisting on the edge ‘in case I get up in the night, don’t want to wake anyone up, you need your rest.’ Ever the gentleman.

But it’s been three hours and not once has Martin made any motion to get up. In fact, he’d fallen asleep almost two minutes after they got situated, sprawled on his back and dead to the world. Tim’s glad Martin can sleep so deeply, he deserves it with the hours he’s pulling. But he’s not very happy about the sounds he makes while doing it.

Martin snores. Tim does too, as he’s been told by previous partners, but Martin’s like a goddamn motorboat. It’s deafening. He refuses to wake him and inform him of this fact, though he wishes Martin had warned him ahead of time. Tim doesn’t want to make him feel bad, but it’s getting to be a bit of a problem. It’s not steady enough to be a comforting white noise, as it occasionally turns into whistles or crescendos into loud roars. Martin’s got range.

And if Martin sleeps like the dead, Jon's the exact opposite. It’s not that he’s woken up at all, no, but he’s constantly rolling around, climbing on top of them at strange and uncomfortable angles. Tim wouldn’t mind the clinging so much if he didn’t change position every fifteen minutes with a jab of his pointy elbows.

He also talks.

It’s all nonsense, of course. Snarky little noises, as if he can’t stop being a little shit even as he sleeps. Sometimes it's a steady stream of enthusiastic mumbling, like his sleepy equivalent of an info-dump. Tim hopes he’s got a captive audience in his dreams.

He murmurs something directly in Tim’s ear, having burrowed himself in the crook of Tim’s neck five minutes prior. After imparting this wisdom, he rolls back over to face the wall. 

“You’ve got a point, buddy. He is loud.” Tim sighs, staring up at the ceiling, when a thought occurs to him.

Maybe if Jon’s got a Martin to distract him, he won’t be so bothersome. Martin seems to be a heavy sleeper, and won’t be woken by Jon’s nocturnal gymnastics. With this in mind, he very carefully scoots to the bottom of the bed and reaches for Jon, half dragging, half carrying him closer to Tim’s previous position. Jon immediately clings on to Martin, throwing himself diagonally over his chest with a happy little noise. Martin doesn’t wake. Perfect. Tim shimmies over to Jon’s spot, his back to the wall as he closes his eyes to finally get some rest.

Until Jon’s leg kicks back and hits Tim directly in the stomach. He yelps and struggles to catch his breath, glaring at his two blissfully unaware companions. Jon snuggles into Martin’s arms and the snores reach a new crescendo. This is hell.

Tim tries, he really does. He spends the next thirty minutes curled as far into the corner as he can manage, he puts the pillow over his head. But nothing drowns out the noise and Jon still intermittently kicks at his back, albeit gentler than before.

He truly loves the two of them, more than he ever thought possible. Tim reminds himself of this as Martin attempts to break the sound barrier and Jon puts on a one-man show of Riverdance against his back. But he’s got to get some fucking sleep. 

He considers waking the two of them and voicing his complaints. It’s not unreasonable; hell, Tim would want to know if he were the offending party. But he can’t bear the thought of Martin’s guilty little face, and he knows Jon will use it as an excuse to stay up the rest of the night. He could just slip into the living room, but that’ll just cause a fuss come morning. No, it’s time to do some strategic maneuvering. It’ll be difficult, but Tim thinks he can pull it off without waking the two. And he’s never been one to back down from a challenge.

Tim squirms down to the edge of the bed, flipping Jon’s pliant body back to its previous position. He almost falls out of bed when Jon surprises him with an emphatic “Recording ends!” but he quiets after that, curling into a ball.

“Good job, bossman.” A nickname he can only use when Jon can’t hear. He’s not too fond of it, now that they’re dating. Tim still thinks it’s cute. 

Now for the hard part. For this one, he’ll have to get out of bed entirely.

As he looms over Martin, Tim tries to figure out the best way to go about this. He gives him a gentle, experimental shove but Martin’s dead weight and does not want to move, stubborn even in sleep and now snoring louder in what seems like protest. Tim pushes back the sleeves of his sleep shirt, shakes out his arms. This is why you lift, Stoker. You can do this. A second push: the man budges a few inches, but there’s still not enough room for Tim to slip in. Martin’s always been stronger than him, much to his chagrin, and he’s never beaten him in arm wrestling. He’s built like a brick house, albeit much comfier. But Tim will not let him win in his sleep. That’s just ridiculous, not to mention embarrassing. So he lets out a grunt and gives it his best shot, the push finally managing to get Martin completely on his side.

And directly on top of Jon.

“Shit!” Tim swears, immediately jumping on the bed at Jon’s muffled squeak, his hands starting to pull Martin back when what little he sees of Jon suddenly relaxes, his face going slack. Tim briefly worries he’s killed him but Jon is in fact breathing, an utterly content look on his face as if all he needed to settle was the pressure of Martin’s arm and half of his body. Tim laughs in disbelief, running a hand through his hair when he notices the sudden quiet.

Martin’s stopped snoring. Not entirely, no, but after a minute of hovering over the man, he hears only the lightest of occasional wheezes. God, I’m a fucking genius. He almost wishes someone had been around to see it. He’s debating taking a picture and sending it to Sasha when he glances at the clock- two am. If he wants to wake up slightly rested, and in time to try Martin’s much-lauded pancakes, he’s going to have to cut his celebrations short.

So he climbs back into bed, attaching himself to the large, warm expanse of Martin’s back and burying his face in the softness of his worn sleep shirt. This is how it’s supposed to be, cozy and comfortable and quiet. Just took a bit of trial and error. 

Now to see if it’ll last til morning.

At eight, Martin wakes everyone with a shriek upon finding Jon buried underneath him and takes both Tim and himself off the bed with the force of his backpedaling. They land with a painful thump, Tim swearing as his abused back takes the brunt of the fall. Jon peers sleepily over the edge of the bed and gives the two of them a pleased smile, stretching like a cat basking in sunlight.

“Don’t think I’ve slept better in my life,” he yawns, blinking slowly. “What are you two doing down there?”

“A-are you serious?” Martin stutters, still tangled in the sheets and making no move to get up. Tim can’t help his snicker. “I-I was completely on top of you-”

“We should do that more often,” Jon agrees. “I like having you on top of me.”

It takes Martin about an hour to recover from that statement and around the same time for Jon to realize what he said. And Tim, well, Tim’s just happy to finally get some sleep.

And Martin’s pancakes. He really wasn’t kidding about those.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29931783

[anjuschiffer]

Amira Wayne - Chapter 21

To think this took me two weeks instead of one...oh well...

Chapter 21: Advice

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P.Tag: @theatreandcomicfreak @daminette-is-life @toodaloo-kangaroo @elijahcrevan @vixen-uchiha @nathleigh @startouchedqueen1318

Tag: @we-want-mini-mini @ramos123 @bluesimani @redscarlet95 @greatcatblaze @promiswords @fantasiame @corabeth11 @anonymously-odd @alexandriamw @officiallydarkgeek @galla02006 @maleive07 @jayjayspixiepop

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MASTERLIST | FIRST | PREV | AO3

Amira pushed Damian aside, not having a moment to yell at him before she was engaged into combat by Deathstroke yet again. 

She blocked attack after attack with her staff, having to spring off his blade at one point, connecting the end of her staff to the side of his head, cracking his eye-sore of a helmet. Just as she was about to attack again, she was pushed aside by Damian, Amira rolling and colliding with a destroyed column. 

“I told you to stay out of my way!” Damian yelled at her as he exchanged blows with Deathstroke. Metal grinded against metal as Damian drove Deathstroke into a waltz, the two exchanging attacks, using picture frames and statues in hopes of slowing the other down. 

Amira watched as frames were destroyed, faces distorted as wood flew all over the place, statues crumbling to pieces as they met a blade or the floor. 

When Deathstroke finished introducing himself earlier, Damian quickly launched himself into combat, the two quickly making a mess of the study. Not wanting them to destroy it even further, Amira extended her staff and rammed it into Deathstroke’s back, causing him to plant his face onto the wall. 

“Stay out of my fight.” Damian gritted, Amira not backing down.

“This is my fight as well. This is my home after all.” Amira bluntly stated, watching as Damian huffed at her response. “And I want him out and away from here.”

Before either could continue their argument, Deathstroke was back up and ready to go, which Damian happily continued where the two had left off.

Amira watched as Damian led Deathstroke to the entrance of the manor, even at the cost of the staircase, Tim almost launching himself into the fight before Amira held him back.

“Isn’t your arm injured?”

“Aren’t we going to help him?” Tim asked back, flinching when Amira glared at him. 

“I will be helping him. You stay here.” Amira instructed, extending the staff into its full length.

“I can still fight.”

“Not with that arm you can’t.”

“Let me-”

“Drake.” Amira sternly said, watching as Tim sunk into himself. “Remember how I told you a Robin has to be well rounded and excel in combat?” She didn’t let him respond. “They also have to know their place in a fight, so for you, it means to stay here, at the sidelines.” With that, Amira left Tim alone to provide some type of support towards Damian…

Or at least that was the plan…

Whenever she tried to help Damian, she would get attacked by him or have him collide with her. Or even worse, be his personal shield or decoy. He would then have the audacity to yell at her for interfering and for being merciful. When she would have an opportunity to take Deathstroke by surprise, Damian would get in her way and cast her aside, not caring about having wasted a perfectly good plan.

And that’s how it had been playing out for the past few minutes since then, leading to now.

“Argh!” Damian yelled out as Deathstroke had managed to knock his sword out of his hand and stab his own into Damian’s arm. 

Unsheathing his other sword, Deathstroke was about to use it to pin Damian to the wall only for Amira to catapult her way towards Damian, dropping kicking Deathstroke in the face. 

“I had it handled.” Damian told her as he pulled out the sword from his arm, the blood dripping onto the floor.

“You’re welcome.” Amira threw back, taking out the weapons in the holster she had picked up earlier, watching Deathstroke charge at her.

Deciding to meet him halfway, Amira somersaulted, kicking the hilt of his sword, causing the sword to fly elsewhere.

With a quick motion, Amira stabbed his arm with a blade before cartwheeling backwards.

Deathstroke let out a groan as he took the blade out, not expecting to have the blade pulled away from his hand, letting out a grunt as blood seeped from his palm. But just as he composed himself, he was met with consecutive hits from another rope dart, having to remain still as the force of the hits grew stronger.

Amira continued to whirl her rope, alternating hands to increase the speed and force of her hits, only for it to be deflected in the end. That’s when he noticed it wasn’t a rope dart, but instead a yo-yo.

“Is that all you got?” Deathstroke asked her. She didn’t respond, instead, she redirected her rope dart to swing under her leg, the heavy alloy yo-yo connecting with his chin, causing him to take a few steps back from the impact.

“How’s an 8-lb yo-yo to the chin feel?” Amira asked, catching the yo-yo with ease before wrapping it around the man, causing him to fall to the floor. “I have some questions for you.” She walked towards him, only for him to break free from her grasp.

She froze as he took out a gun, only managing to snap out of it when a small device attached itself to it and exploded, causing Deathstroke to drop it. Judging from its trajectory, it had to have been Tim’s doing.

That and the fact that she doubted Damian would do anything to try and defend her when his pride and ego were on the line.

However, within that second, a kunai found itself digging into Deathstroke’s eye, Amira feeling the sudden urge to retch. She watched as Damian flew past her and dug the kunai further into the eye socket, only then causing Amira to react.

“Stop it!” She yelled, pulling off Damian of Deathstroke and facing him. “You’re going to kill him!”

“He needs to be killed for trying to-”

“We still need to-” Amira grunted as she was forced into Damian, causing the two to tumble forward. 

“Squabbling while turning your back to your opponent? Not a very smart thing to do.” Deathstroke reminded them, taking out another gun and aiming it towards the two of them. While Damian tried to pry Amira off of him, he stopped when he noticed her frozen expression of fear.

Just as Damian was going to roll the two of them away, someone slammed a staff behind Deathstroke’s helmet, causing the thing to split into two.

“Tim.” Damian heard Amira whisper, watching as fear still filled her eyes. She pulled Deathstroke back when she saw him make a dash for a retreating Tim, Tim using that opportunity to drop an axe kick.

Damian watched as the two continued to fight together, Amira calculating every strike, not wasting a single swing. Damian watched as Tim dodged and danced with Amira, not a single word spoken between them as they fought Deathstroke together.

He felt like he was being casted aside...unnecessary...not needed...

As he continued to watch them fight, Damian noticed them leading Deathstroke to the center of the lobby, Damian eyeing the chandelier above them. He then noticed the other rope dart Amira had brought in with her, lying abandoned at the side of the room.

It was then that he remembered the other thing he always found himself carrying with him...

A small plan began to form in his mind, Damian quickly picking up the rope dart to start setting it up.

Tim regretted having missed Amira’s soreness from having been using her weapon for the past ten minutes, watching as her attack barely reached Deathstroke’s face. With an attack having gone to waste, the man used the opportunity to focus on Tim alone, allowing him to throw the boy in the direction he had finished jumping from.

Amira managed to grab Tim before he met the floor, not noticing the incoming attack from Deathstroke. Just as his dagger was about to reach her, something hit Deathstroke in the face, Tim noticing a black case landed at his feet.

“Over here!” Damian yelled, causing everyone to look up, watching as Damian landed perfectly square on Deathstroke’s shoulders, the boy not only wrapping his legs around the man, but also the chain of the rope dart Amira recognized as her own.

Amira watched as Damian kept Deathstroke in the hold, watching as the man was starting to find his way out of it. “Use the thing inside the case!” Damian yelled at Tim, Tim freezing when he saw what was inside.

“I-I can’t use this.” Tim whispered, turning to Amira after having read the label. “We can’t-” He watched as Amira grabbed the case and casually walked up to Deathstroke.

“Don’t worry Tim.” Amira took the needle out of the case, wondering where Damian even managed to get his hands on the venom. “We’re not killing him, just torturing him.”

Without hesitation, Amira stabbed it into a patch of exposed skin (courtesy of Damian’s sword), watching as the man screamed and grunted as he fought against the pain. “After all, we don’t kill.”

“Well said, Amira.” Tim jumped from Amira’s flinch when Bruce spoke up.

The three turned their heads to see Bruce at the doorway, an elderly man with a smile on his face next to him. While a majority of his hair was tied back, tufts of white poked a bit from the side, Amira knowing who he was the minute he saw his eyes…

So he was the man whose eyes she inherited.... 

“Father...Ra’s.” Damian addressed, tying up Deathstroke before going to them, his heart sinking a bit when Bruce walked past him and went towards Amira, not even bothering to acknowledge him.

“Are you alright, Amira?” Amira turned away from her father as he fussed over the bruises and cuts on her face. 

“I’m...fine.” She said, swatting away her father’s gentleness, only then noticing that Alfred had silently joined them. “Grandpere.”

“Amira, my child, look at yourself.” Alfred softly spoke, Amira letting him examine her face. “Lets get those cuts cleaned in the infirmary. Master Tim,” he addressed, Tim flinching when he was called. “That goes for you too. I can’t have that ghastly gash of yours infecting under my watch.”

“Yes, sir.” Tim said with a nod, going to join them when he watched the other elderly man make his way towards Deathstroke.

“To think I treated him like a son once.” Ra’s said, disappointment visible on his face. “To think I ever considered him to be my heir at one point. Never would’ve thought he would be the one to try and betray me.”

“Him?” Damian asked the question in Bruce’s mind. “He was the one who you considered worthy of succeeding you?”

“At one point, yes. But then, you came along...or rather, the two of you came along.” Ra’s said, turning slightly to see Amira’s reaction. The girl mentioned stopped in her tracks. “Two grandchildren, but only one was able to claim the throne.”

“More like only one was considered to be your heir.” Amira spoke once turning to look at Ra’s in the face. “After all, ever since you found out my mother was going to have me, you wanted me dead. Me, a mere infant.”

No one noticed the paleness in Damian’s face, the way his eyes widened upon hearing those words. 

His grandfather...wanted his sister, their own blood...dead?

“I gave your mother the opportunity to let you live.”

“You threatened her to get rid of me!” Amira yelled, remembering her mother’s retelling of Ra’s threat. 

“You, a mere infant who I could’ve easily disposed of myself. But instead, I choose to show you mercy.”

“You kept me alive to keep her in line!” 

“Be grateful, child.” Ra’s snarled, causing Amira to take a step back. “You’re the only being in the world whom I’ve shown mercy to. Because of me, you got to live and learn from your father, a skilled fighter. A great detective. If it weren’t for my generosity, you would already be de-“

“That’s enough!” Bruce sternly shouted, standing in front of Amira who’s eyes were filled with unshed tears. Alfred placed a hand on her shoulder, frowning when he found her trembling as well. “I will not allow you to speak to my daughter that way, nor anyone in my family for that matter.

You said that you came here to leave Damian in my care. To keep him safe until you found your traitor.” Bruce walked up to Ra’s, allowing Alfred to guide Amira and Tim to the infirmary. 

He motioned to the passed out Slade. “Well, now he’s taken care of, so I suggest you continue your way back to the League to ensure that it’s safe enough for Damian to go back home. After all, that was your original goal, wasn’t it?” Bruce and Ra’s stared each other down, waiting for the other to back down. 

Surprisingly, it was Ra’s who broke the contact. 

“Very well.” Ra’s huffed, looking over to Damian. “You got to see firsthand how skillful those who learn under your father are, so just imagine how much you can improve by learning under him as well. I expect you to learn everything you can during your stay. Understood?” Damian nodded. “Good.”

Without a second to spare, Ra’s disappeared into the night, Damian wondering when would be the next time they would see one another. 

—

Adrien lifted his head the minute he heard the apartment door open, hearing laughter fill the room. 

It’s been a few hours -okay it’s been seven or eight since he’s heard about any news about Marinette. Seven-ish hours of being in the dark about Marinette’s whereabouts...since then, he had been by Chloe’s side, making sure she was doing alright.  

He held back a sob, gently pulling himself away from Chloé and headed down only to not find Marinette among them. Walking into the apartment was Dick, Wally and Nino.

“Where’s Marinette?” Adrien asked, everyone’s laughter rescinding. That’s when he noticed Jason, or rather recognized him. Wasn’t he...wasn’t he...the dead Wayne?

“Freund von dir? [Friend of yours?]” Jason asked Dick, Adrien looking at Nino for clarification. He simply shrugged. 

“Nien. Favoritinnen. [No. Favorite’s.]” Dick answered back. “He’s Adrien and the one you met earlier is Nino.”

“Y el novio, cierto? [And the boyfriend, right?]” Jason asked, a grin on his face as he pointed towards Wally. Wally quirked a brow. 

“They’re not quite there yet.” 

“Seriously?”

“Yup.” 

“Gotta do something about that, don’t you think?” Jason asked, causing Dick to chuckle, confusing the others in the room. 

The shattering of a teacup was heard, everyone whipping the heads to see who dropped it. 

“Jason.” Selina whispered, slowly walking towards him, Jason hesitating to move forward. “That’s really you, isn’t it?” She placed her hand on his cheek, wiping away a stray tear on his face. 

“Yea. It’s me, Ma. It’s really me.” Jason let himself get pulled into a hug, letting Selina crush him to death...well not really, but let her hug him until she was satisfied in knowing he was still alive...and with them once again. 

Adrien’s eyes darted between Jason and Selina. Then to Dick. Then back to Jason. 

“Apparently they all know each other.” Nino spoke up, Adrien realizing he had been standing beside him for a while. “Mlle Kyle, Dick, Barbara and M.Bruce...they all know Jason. And apparently, so does Marinette.”

Adrien turned to look at Nino with wide eyes, failing to notice that Barbara had joined the reunion at that moment.  

“What?”

“Yea. Apparently they've known each other for quite some time. Heard Jason telling Dick that he had been catching up with Marinette before she went off to tell their grandfather about...him. Wonder what they meant by that.”

Nino looked at Jason, who was busy annoying a flushed faced Wally. “While their entire dynamic was odd, that wasn’t what had me confused the most.”

“So she’s not here…” Adrien told himself. “And what do you mean by ‘the most confused’?”

“You know how everyone has some type of nickname, whether it comes from a family member or friend?” Adrien nodded. “Could Marinette have another name as her nickname?”

Seeing Adrien’s confused face, Nino continued. “Marinette once told me that her friends have only ever called her two nicknames: Mimi and Baguette.

Wally and Dick call her Mimi while you call her Bugette. So then...why...why was Jason referring to Marinette by Amira when her name is Marinette?” Nino asked.

Adrien froze. 

“Nino...Are-are you sure that’s-“

“Positive.” Nino confirmed, watching as Adrien’s face morphed into a stern expression. “Dude, what-”

“Nino.” Adrien said in a low tone, causing a shiver to run down Nino’s spine. “Whatever you do, don’t tell anyone else what you just told me.”

“Dude, why-“ Adrien placed his hands on Nino’s shoulders. 

“I’m I clear? Don’t. Tell. Anyone.” Adrien enunciated, looking over at Dick ruffling Jason’s hair. “Promise me that.”

“I promise.” Nino promised, wondering what it was that Adrien had found out.

Letting Nino go, Adrien looked at the group of family and friends talking within themselves, as if forgetting about the crisis just moments ago.

Or was it more than that?

Did they trust Marinette being fine even after her kidnapping? And what about the kidnapper? Were they going to let them roam free after what they did to Marinette?

Whatever it was, Adrien knew it had to be linked with the other secrets they held...even the one he found out by complete accident...

—

It didn’t take long to get patched up. It did, however, take very long to convince Alfred and her father to let her leave the Cave, Amira having to use the excuse that she was tired to be able to retreat to her room. 

And once more, everything looked just like she had left it months ago...

She headed to the wall of photos, dragging her hands over them, until she stopped over the one she took of the Parisian night. 

It was already two in the morning in Gotham, meaning it was eight in Paris. She hoped her friends would forgive her, especially Wally. She hopes he would forgive her for scaring him like this for the second time this month. 

Which reminded her, she had yet to tell Grandpere that-

“Amira,” She quickly turned, half wondering if her grandfather could read mind, only that instead of finding Grandpere there, she saw Damian. A scowl found its way to her face.

“How dare you mock-“

“It was the only way to get your attention.” Damian cut off, joining Amira by her wall of photos. “Out of everyone here, Pennyworth is the only one who you-“

“Grandpere is Grandpere. Of course he would have my complete respect. He’s my grandfather after all.”

“Ra’s is also our grand-“ Amira’s scoff caught him off guard. 

“Ra’s is not my grandfather and in no way part of my family.” Amira felt her hands begin to shake. “What I heard from him had portrayed him in a bad light and today,” she quickly dug her nails into her arm to try and prevent herself from trembling. “Today proved those stories to be true.”

“We have his blood-“

“Blood doesn’t just make family, Damian.” Amira sternly said, looking at a new photo she hadn’t placed on her wall at all. It was taken from days ago, one where Dick was trying to engage Amira into a conversation with his other friends. Wally was there beside her, holding her hand in case it was too much for her. “And even if it did, so does trust, acknowledgement. And love.

And while I acknowledge Ra’s to be our mother’s father, our grandfather, I do not trust him. And I never will, as I will never love him either. 

After all, he never dared to acknowledge me as family, so why should I? Why should I bother to respect him when clearly, he doesn’t deserve it?”

Damian stood there, soaking in his sister’s words, because...she had a point, even if he thought it was a point that was stupidly based on emotions. “If that’s all you came to talk to me about, then I suggest you leave. I have a few things to do before I have to go elsewhere.”

“You’re leaving?” Damian asked, wondering where his sister should go at this time of day. “What about your duties as Ro-“ 

He was not expecting his sister to erupt into laughter.

“Duties? Robin?” Amira promptly shut up, weirded out by the lack of envy in herself whenever she would say the name ‘Robin’ outloud. 

“Surely it’s yours, isn’t it? You are Robin, aren’t you? After all, you are father’s-”

“Blood child.” Amira finished for him. “Sorry to say, but that alone doesn’t give you the right to the mantle.”

“Are you saying someone else is the current Robin?” Damian seethed. “Someone who isn’t Father’s blood child is the one by his side, as his successor?”

“Not successor Damian. Partner...and possible candidate towards taking over Bat-”

“Then why haven’t you taken it back Amira? Why aren’t you claiming your birth-”

“Because it is earned Damian.” Amira sternly growled. “Robin isn’t just a mantle, it's a symbol. A symbol of fear...and hope. Robin is a collection of knowledge, passed from one Robin to the next. That knowledge is passed down, refined and added to as it gets handed down.” Damian watched as Amira walked away from her wall of photos. “But what thinks you’re worthy of being handed Robin?”

“I am the better option. I’ve been trained by the League for years, mastered-”

“Mastered being a bloodthirsty and uncooperative person.” Amira finished off. “And that’s based on one fight that took longer than it should have.”

“You were getting in my way.”

“And that’s exactly why you can’t be handed Robin and why you’ll never be Batman.”

“Are you-”

“I’m only telling you the truth. Robin has to be well rounded and excel in combat. They need to know when to stay on the sidelines. They must know when to call the shots.”

“You just contradicted yourself.”

“Did I?” Amira smirked, heading for the door. “Or did you misinterpret my words?” She opened the door, wondering if she would find Grandpere in the kitchen now that she and Tim were fully mended from their injuries. “Until you understand what that means, you will never know what it means to be Robin.”

With those words, Amira left Damian behind, heading out to accomplish the mission she had before the whole fiasco with Deathstroke.

—

Finding and telling Grandpere the news wasn’t the hard part, Amira finding him in the kitchen preparing some much needed early morning snacks. However, she wasn’t prepared for the tears that came afterwards from her usually calm grandfather upon hearing the good news.

After a much needed crying session, Alfred packed some food for Amira to give to Jason, assurring her that she would tell Bruce about Jason’s return at a more appropriate time.

With that done, she headed towards the zeta tube, having finished plugging in her coordinates when she sensed Tim.

“You’re leaving.” He simply stated, looking at her bandaged hands and bandage on her face.

“Yeah.” 

“Shouldn’t you-”

“I need to go back…” Amira easily answered. “And...thank you.”

“Huh?”

“Thank you for saving me back there...I had forgotten that Gotham doesn’t operate like Paris...with the whole no magic and meta business.” Amira confessed. “Also, if you hadn’t done what you did...I could’ve been dead.”

“B-but Bruce said-”

She showed him her bare ears, a single piercing causing Tim to pale.

He had seen Ladybird’s fights, he had seen Amira take punches to the gut without a single drop of blood seeping from her mouth. He had seen her get thrown into a stone pillar and get up without a single sign of pain. She would always get up no matter how many times she was thrown down. She was indestructible...until today…

Today, she actually feared death, something that wouldn’t have crossed her mind despite her upbringing in Gotham. “You... you could have died today, couldn’t you?”

“And that’s why I thanked you, Tim.” Amira ruffled his hair, Tim not knowing how to react to her gesture. “I was wrong about you in so many ways... to think it took me this long to realize it.”

“What exactly do you mean by that?” Tim pried, getting the following as a response.

“Keep up the good work, Robin.”

Tim found himself sending those words to Dick as well as telling him that Amira was on her way back.

—

“Recognized: Ladybird B13.” An automated female voice said out loud, Amira finding herself not irritated by it unlike the previous times. 

Then again, her previous code wasn’t Ladybird but rather MDC. 

It was nice to have a code that actually belonged to her... or at least used to. 

“I’m back.” She told herself as she exited out the telephone booth, not expecting to be pulled into an embrace, feeling her eyes watering when the scent of cat hit her senses. 

“Thank god you’re safe, Amira.” Selina barely whispered, tightening her embrace. “You’re safe.”

What started with a hic soon erupted into muffled cries, Amira burying her face into Selina’s coat, only then realizing the emotions she had been holding in over the course of several hours. She tightened her hug back, her cries growing louder as she let it all out.

Talía watched as Amira and Selina reunited by the old telephone booth, letting a smile appear on her lips despite her aching heart.

“You’ve grown so much Amira. Take care and stay safe and know that I will always hold you close to my heart. Goodbye, baobei.”

NEXT

[creepy-carrion]

Virus | Tim Wright x Reader

hope this is ok idkkkk

You doubted that when Tim said you could come by today, he meant 11 PM. But it had taken every fiber of your being to muster up the strength to come over to that damn house, and if he didn’t open the door on you now, you swore you’d just break a window.

Shifting your weight back and forth nervously, you knocked on the front door again, this time louder than the previous. You didn’t want to be here. God, you’d rather be anywhere than here. But you needed your belongings that were still scattered throughout Tim’s home more than that.

But the speed at which this little situation had escalated still gnawed away in the back of your mind. Tim had always had... issues. That wasn’t a secret, not to you at least. How could he hide it from his significant other anyways? It’s not exactly secretive to people who care about you when you disappear for weeks on end. But he was doing so much better lately, he held a stable job for a while. The medication was working.

But that didn’t change the fact you were standing on his porch to collect your stuff after he dumped you without another word three days ago.

Was it something you’d done? He didn’t sound mad, hell, but why else would he call you, finish it in two minutes before hanging up and blocking your number? Maybe he spiraled again. Usually he wasn’t too hesitant about asking for your help, but he really didn’t sound okay on the phone. Maybe he-

Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard the lock rattle, before the door swung open, revealing your now ex-boyfriend. Though you had to admit, for a moment you had to double-take if that really was him. The circles under his eyes were a deep, purple color, his hair was oily and tangled... Your suspicions were proven to be right. He really did crash.

“I didn’t think you were going to come by anymore.” Tim speaking up was the only reason you realized you’d both just been silently staring at each other. Your nervous habits started taking over as you started fiddling with your thumbs, suddenly awfully aware what you were here for. You hated it. You hated that Tim knew it. You hated that Tim could read you like a book.

You tried to ignore the sensation of his exhausted yet piercing gaze flickering back and forth between your hands and your face, biting the inside of your cheek before stepping forwards. “You never told me when to be here.” was your only reply, before you wormed your way past him into his home.

The smell. You hated that smell. Your mind was conflicted, emotions were swirling around in your gut and for a moment, you contemplated leaving. Then you wouldn't have to yell at that feeling. That feeling that you were safe, secure, loved. The feeling that scent gave you.

But you weren’t about to run like a prey animal with its tail between its legs.

As you stepped into the living room, you almost got a heart attack when you noticed someone standing in the hallway, before recognizing who it was. “You brought him?” You didn't mean to lace your words with that much venom, but you couldn’t help it. And poor Jay, who was originally going for a bathroom visit, decided it was best for that to wait and scurried off down the hallway into the guest bedroom. 

“I didn’t bring him. He’s staying here.” Although you weren’t exactly being scolded (no way, he did not have the balls to do that), the disapproval was practically dripping off those words.

The thoughts in your mind started racing as you considered the many ways you could snap at him right now. Yeah, you were pissed. But you didn’t want things to escalate.

In fact, you said nothing at all, just trudging over to one of the coffee tables and picking up a dumb souvenir you’d gotten on your trip to the Florida Keys. He didn't even gather your belongings for you. Of course he didn't.

You were awfully well-aware of his presence as he just stood behind you, his eyes avoiding your frame whenever you cast a glance in his direction. Though when your gazes did meet, the emotions that swirled in his eyes were complex and unreadable. Part of you wanted to ask him. But that angry, betrayed whisper in your head was louder than any other thought that crossed your mind.

You didn’t bother.

After throwing whatever stuff you could find into your backpack, you realized you’d have to head over there. Postponing it only worked as long as it wasn’t the last option at the last minute. Bag clutched in one hand and the other pushing against the door, you entered the bedroom.

Your bedroom.

The comforting yet anxiety-inducing scent was stronger here than anywhere else. You despised it. You didn't want to be here. 

And again, Tim just shuffled right behind you, not offering to help you pack. His hand just kept moving feverishly to his pockets, trembling fingers attempting to grab the pack of Marlboro, but he never did. In the end, he just ended up biting at what was left of his nails.

You decided to just hurry up the process. Shoving whatever you could find into your bag, you finally zipped it shut so hastily you could swear it almost came off, and crawled back up on your feet. You were ready to head out, back home. But Tim was ahead of you. As you walked towards the front door, you found Tim had unlocked it for you again, and was holding it open for you.

You froze.

This... This piece of shit had done nothing to help you. Nothing. Did not even offer an explanation for anything. 

But he was holding the door open for you.

That got to you.

Your knuckles popped as your grip on your backpack tightened, fingers turning white. Before you even knew it, your mouth had opened and with a hiss the words came out.

“Fuck you, Tim.”

The both of you were caught off guard. Hell, you didn't even know you had it in you to insult him. But now the flood gates were opened, and you couldn’t close them that easily. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you? You break up with me on the phone, block my number, have Jay come over to tell me you want my shit out of your house, and you’re holding the door open?! Fuck you!”

Tim sounded caught off guard. “What else did you want me to do, just watch you open the door yourself?!” 

“The door isn’t the fucking issue, Tim!”

It was quiet for a moment, save for your shivery, heavy breathing as you fought back your tears. Tim just stared at his feet, avoiding your gaze at all costs.

“You were doing fine! At least- I thought so- and you just- what the fuck am I supposed to make of this?! Was it me? Did I bore you? Did you- Did you fucking date me until you got better and didn't need your precious little crutch anymore?!” “It’s not that, you don’t under-”

“I DON’T UNDERSTAND, TIM! I’M FUCKING ASKING YOU!”

You’d never raised your voice at him like that. Your yells echoed throughout the house, choking sobs following suit. Your teary eyes locked with his. If you weren’t so upset, you might’ve seen the hurt flash in them. But all you wanted right now was a goddamn explanation. 

An explanation that never came.

You wiped your eyes on the sleeve of your jacket, your bottom lip trembling. You should’ve known that was why he kept you around. You should’ve known. Your shoulder collided with his roughly as you stormed out of the house, not giving him an opportunity to call after you as you stepped into your car and left.

Tim just stood there, watching the red taillights until they were no longer visible.

“I’m sorry.” Tim turned to Jay, who was shifting his weight from one foot to another uncomfortably. Clearly he felt guilty about this.

“Pack your damn bags, Jay.” Jay nodded and left to the guest bedroom again, his packed bags placed neatly on top of the bed already. He knew what Tim actually meant.

Once he heard the door close, the one string keeping his composure tied together snapped. He pressed his back against the door, rubbing his eyes with so much force he thought they might cave in, high-pitched, scratchy sobs racking his body.

He wanted to scream, cry, anything.

It hurt so bad. It hurt so bad that he couldn't tell you about the hooded figure that had been sneaking into his house. He couldn’t tell you what was going on, hell, knowing you, you’d just put yourself in more danger. But he couldn’t hide what was going on much longer. He couldn't hide the fact he and Jay were leaving tomorrow. He felt like he had no other options.

Tim was the disease. His selfishness had overtaken him. He’d ignored the damage it could do, but he couldn't be any longer, not after what happened to Alex. Not now that he was the cause of Jay’s fucked up life. No, he couldn’t let it spread even further. He couldn't let that happen to you.

He loved you too much for that.

[heartless-error]

Love-Struck

Fandom: DC comics, Batman

Pairing: Jason Todd x Timothy Drake (JayTim)

Rating/Tags: JayTim Week 2020 - Day 1: College AU, Family Feels, Fluff and Humor, Secret Crushes 

Other(s) links: AO3

"Okay." Jason sighed, gathering strength to himself. "You remember… That guy?"

"That guy?" Roy asked back.

"Yes."

"The one you have a crush on and look at him from afar, but you deny it and never take the first step because you’re a dramatic bitch?"

"Yeah."

"What? You have finally talked to him?"

"No."

"Then what?"

"I hit him with the bike."

Roy was silent, looking at him and blinking a few times at the news. But he didn't have to say anything, Jason knew he was totally fucked.

OR:

Based on the prompt "I was distracted looking at my crush and accidentally hit him."

Love-Struck

 It happened on a Tuesday, during the break.

 Tim met Conner and Bart outside his classes to head to one of the coffee shops near the campus, between his mathematical analysis class and his computing class, because he wouldn’t be able to survive that day without a third coffee and in addition his friends would be nearby to make sure he didn’t fall in the temptation to drink a fourth.

 Everything was going well, Bart received him with an effusive hug and Kon patted his back like always. All started walking towards their destination while talking about their classes, how close they were to the finals, Kon’s new game, where they could go to celebrate when they finish the semester, generally normal things that made Tim forget about how he had slept an hour and half, still had four assignments to do, and his parents were waiting for his presence at tonight’s dinner after they returned from their business trip to Dubai.

 Maybe it was because of that hour and half of sleep, or because the little conversation of his two best friends about how Conner was a coward who couldn’t ask Cassie out caused him a slight smile, a warm emotion, and distracted him from his problems and everything around him. But when he crossed the street to the cafe, happy and absent, he didn’t have time to react to anything.

 “Watch out!”

 “Tim!”

 Something hit him and before he knew what, fell unconscious.

 ~0.0~

 “He's alive!”

 That was the first thing he heard when he started waking up.

 Tim found himself confused as he regained consciousness, his whole body hurt, a lot, but at the same time he was somewhat sleepy. He realized he was lying on a bed that smelled of antiseptic and medicine, around him he could hear bustle and people talking next to him, couldn’t feel his leg either.

 “Of course he's alive, calm down.”

 That was Kon's voice. And previously was Bart's. If he remembered well, he was with them on campus, just heading to one of his favorite coffee shops before something hit him on the side and everything went dark. If he had to guess, he would say that he hadn’t passed out from the lack of caffeine but had been run over.

Tim growled annoyed, opening his eyes heavily and blinking because of the whitish light of the hospital room.

 When he was finally able to focus and wake up properly, the sight that received him was his plastered leg held high and his friends hovering over him with a worried gaze.

 “Tim!” Exclaimed Bart, who seemed to be on the verge of tears.

 “What's up buddy? How did you sleep?” Conner asked with a relieved smile.

 When he tried to answer, he realized how dry his throat was, as well as how overwhelmed he was because of the medications and sedatives that would have been administered to him when had been treated. His friends, realizing this, soon helped him to lean him over and give him the bottle of water that was on the next table.

 “What happened?” He ended up asking after recovered himself.

 “You got hit by a motorcycle.” Conner answered bluntly. “And you scared us, man.”

 “Yes! I almost have a heart attack!” Bart exclaimed. He could tell he was holding himself back to not hug him until crush him because he was benched. “We were talking and suddenly you were flying!”

 “Really?” He asked, surprised.

 It wouldn't be strange if the hit had thrown him a few meters away, but he felt the most serious wound he had, was that broken leg, so he didn't think he would have fly for real.

 “No.” Conner denied instantly.

 Yeah, he thought so. What a disappointment.

But now that he was more awake, he remembered certain things clearly.

 “I think I remember listening to the ambulance.” He frowned, trying to remember well.

 “No, that was Bart screaming.”

 “It scared me! Okay?” The redhead excused himself immediately.

 “We could hear you better than the sirens.” His other friend started teasing.

 Tim couldn’t help to smile amused at this, fondly too. Bart used to be loud in general, but him being so concerned about him was very touching. Also, the fact that his two friends had taken care of him, had accompanied him, waited him to wake up and now were there, receiving him, made him remember why he loved and appreciated them so much.

 “I thought it was serious!” The redhead excused himself again.

 “Obviously not.” Kon replied, still amused. “Tim is stronger than we think.”

 “I'm fine, Bart. For real.” He tried to reassure him, he felt it could have been worse anyway. “I'm only a little numb for the medicines, can you call a nurse?”

 As much as he appreciated the ride to the hospital, the treatment and all, he wouldn't like to spend the night there. He didn’t consider his condition serious enough to do so, so he would like to be discharged immediately. He also wants to sleep in his bed, those four assignments weren’t going to be done magically and no nurse was going to allow him to drink a decent coffee. So, hearing his diagnosis and going home was all he wanted now.

 However, when Kon and Bart exchanged glances, something told him that it wasn’t going to be that easy.

 “What?” He asked immediately.

 They didn't answer, just looked at each other again with a slight hint of panic. Which was not cool at all, because it made thousands of unpleasant possibilities run through his mind.

And the worst, the worst of them entered the room before he could ask again.

 The temperature in the room dropped suddenly to below zero as soon as Janet Drake, as beautiful and noble as ever, entered keeping her formal, elegant, and polite composure characteristic of her as the sound of her heels echoed in the room harshly. Her pristine appearance contrasted with her icy eyes -identical to his son’s- and his aura in itself, so cold, lethal, and furious that she seemed to freeze all those who dared to look at her directly.

Everything was quiet and it seemed like the death itself, ethereal and deadly, had entered the room. And Jack Drake, who warmly greeted his son and his friends after saying goodbye to the nurse they had been talking to.

 “Timothy.” His mother said calmly, firm, approaching the bed with safe steps. “Glad to see you’re awake.”

 Tim swallowed hard. He didn’t know what to answer, because now he understood and shared the same panic as his friends. Janet looked angry, was she? God, why he hadn't thought it before? Of course they were going to call his parents after being struck by a bike, and of course it wouldn’t be pleasant for them to receive such news while they were unpacking and planning their dinner tonight. She was angry, right?

 “Thanks for being with him, guys.” Said his father to his friends.

 Conner tried to smile naturally, but it looked like he had just sucked on a lemon. Bart didn't even try; he was as stiff as a board and looking at him like a deer about to be run over.

Sometimes he found fascinating how his mother -yes, only his mother- still had the power to scare them in this way as if they were still the noisy children he met at summer camp and used to visit him. Anyone would think she hated them, seeing the disinterested attitude she always has maintained, he knows they think so too, but after learning the scholarships of both to enter the best programs of the Gotham University were slightly orchestrated by her, he knows it’s not true. Or maybe it was, and she was just doing him a favor by keeping his best friends close to him. He will never know.

 Of course, that doesn't take away the fact that his mother seems furious right now and can effortlessly rip someone's arm off just for the pleasure of doing it.

 “N-Never mind…” Conner tried to say with that nervous smile. “Anything for Tim.”

 “We’re lucky it wasn’t anything serious, was it?” His father said looking at him directly. “The doctor said is just a few bruises and your poor leg, you will recover without problem, son.”

 Tim was a little relieved that the diagnosis was so simple, despite already suspecting it, confirming it didn’t hurt. He saw how his father winked at his friends so they wouldn’t be worried, though they hesitated for a second.

 “U-Um... We...” Bart tried to say.

 “I’m sure you still have classes to attend today.” Janet cut him off. “Don't worry about Timothy, we’ll take care of it.”

 All of that, even from her tone, would have sounded kind if her eyes wouldn’t have been piercing them to the depths of their being, as if she were throwing ice daggers into their hearts. He swears he could see Bart flinch.

 “Ok, see you later Tim!” Bart said trying to hide his panic and saying goodbye with a nervous smile.

 He could have sworn that if Bart could run at super speed, he would have done it to get out of there. Connor, on his part, reached out to him and lifted his hand to ruffle his hair in that loving, gentle way he used to do, but stopped halfway as soon as he felt Janet's murderous aura grow wild and out of control.

 “Get well soon.” He said before turning around and run away like a coward.

 Well, he couldn’t blame them. He will text them later.

 But now he had been left alone, drugged, hurt and with his parents, one trying to be positive and the other willing to kill someone. Who? He doesn't know, but if he survives this, he vows he'll quit caffeine (he won't).

 He felt her mother's icy gaze move from his leg to his face, and he had to swallow hard again to try to speak.

 “We were going to the cafe and then…” He tried to explain.

 “We know what happened.” She cut him off seriously. Of course she knew it, at this point it doesn't surprise him if she knows even the date the bike wheel was created. “Also know who was the responsible. We'll fix it.”

 He didn't know how to take that. On one hand, if they didn’t know who had hit him, at this moment they would be tracing all Gotham with all the resources they had to find it out; But on the other, they knew it, and Tim could only feel sorry for whoever that poor soul was, because they had no idea what was going to come after them.

What's more, he was realizing how his father was compulsively sending messages right now, surely to their lawyers, or to public relations, or whoever, but that wasn’t promising anything good.

 “I’m fine.” He said looking at his mother, hoping to appease the murderous hunger that was devouring her right now. “Seriously.”

 It didn't seem to work, because she didn't move a single muscle and looked at his plastered leg again.

 “I don’t see it that way.” She declared in a soft but deadly tone.

 He didn’t have the will to refute her. He had never had it when it came to such a situation, after all he had always had a fragile and compromised health, which didn’t help to calm down his parents when he ended in the hospital again.

 On the other hand, many people thought that Janet was someone extremely cold and severe to be a mother. Which wasn't exactly true, it’s just... She showed her love in other ways, a little differently. Tim knows when he was born, he was premature, very small, sickly and not the first baby Janet had carried, but the only one who could have born. For this reason, he knows that, although she travels a lot and not many people consider her a model mother, his mother possess an extreme and powerful sense of overprotection embedded in her, and when it’s active threatens to destroy everything and everyone around it. Which was now aimed at the person who hit him, who is going to have to deal with the Drake army of lawyers.

 It’s somewhat unfair and exaggerated to waste such an amount of legal power against someone because of a simple accident, unless it’s a good reason, at least that’s what he thinks. He wishes he had said it, but he knows it will be in vain, they are already in it, and he’s also exhausted, the drugs are probably still working. So, before he knew, he was just falling asleep.

 As he slipped into the dream world, he really hoped that the person responsible for the accident weren’t someone he knows or cares about, because they could end up hating him.

He also felt his mother gave him a light kiss on the forehead, but that only made him smile.

 ~0.0~

 “I have a problem.”

 “Yeah, I’ve figured out.” Roy replied across the table.

 He had only raised an eyebrow and put aside his coffee when he saw Jason enter the room and sit in front of him in panic. Well, Roy couldn't do much after being called there so suddenly either.

 “A big problem.”

 “I felt it when I received your texts.” He said again, more than calm. “Very deep, by the way.”

 Jason snorted. Right now, he was going to explode like a popcorn, many things had happened, so it hadn't been in his plans to write a text beyond the “Help, I fucked up” to his best friend.

 “Roy, c’mon” He scolded him, agitated. Right now, he could feel his phone vibrating in his pocket for all the texts Bruce was sending him, that didn’t help at all.

 “Ok, sorry.” The redhead raised his hands in an attempt to calm things down, then looked at him curiously. “What happened?”

 Jason writhed uncomfortably in his chair at that question, it's not like it's the first time he asked that to him if the redhead was so calm at the moment it's because he was used to doing this. He had come to Roy because he’s his best friend, the one he trusted, who wouldn’t judge him, and the only one who has the privilege to know certain personal information, which had importance at the moment. The thing is, he had no idea where to start, there were so many things at once, he wanted to think about how to explain them all because he could see his friend getting impatient as he hesitated.

 “Jay.” He said, it's not like Roy was very patient to begin with.

 “Wait, I'm thinking.”

 “You're a literature student, you're supposed to be good at words.”

 He's right, but Jason's eloquence was absent since this morning.

 “I don't know where to start, dammit.”

 “From the beginning.” The other said, then looked to his phone. “I have to pick up Lian from school in an hour, so hurry up.”

 Jason sighed and scratched the back of his neck, deciding to say it all at once. He said to himself he does it because he didn’t want to interfere with the single father duties from his friend and not because he was going to explode.

 “Okay.” He sighed again, gathering strength to himself. “You remember… That guy?”

 “That guy?” Roy asked back.

 “Yes.”

 “The one we saw on campus earlier in the semester?"

 “Yes.”

 “The one who's also friends with Kent, the quarterback?”

 “Yes.”

 “Nerd, short, pretty eyes, nice ass and very cute?”

 “Yes. Yes.”

 "Totally your type?"

 “Yep.”

 “The one you have a crush on and look at him from afar, but you deny it and never take the first step because you’re a dramatic bitch?”

 “Yes.”

 “What? You have finally talked to him?”

 “No.”

 “Then what?”

 “I ran him over.”

 Roy was silent. Completely silent, looking at him and blinking a few times at the news. Jason couldn’t avoid wondering if that was the face he did when he found out he was going to be a dad in high school, but he couldn't joke with that because he was too busy panicking right now.

 “What?” The redhead ended up asking to make sure he had heard correctly.

 “I ran him over, Roy.” He repeated, feeling the panic build within him again.

 The other was quiet again, staring at him stunned.

 “I. Ran. Him. Over.” He repeated once more, this time to internalize it himself, because since it had happened, he hadn’t even had time to do it. “During the break, with the bike.”

 One, two, three seconds of silence before Roy dared to say anything, and when he did everything that came out of his bright and amazing mind was:

 “He’s dead?”

 “No!” He yelled in exasperation at that, causing some clients in the cafe to look at him.

 He didn't even want to imagine that possibility, he already had enough.

 “Well, that’s good.” The other tried to say to see the positive point of the whole thing.

 “It’s not. It’s not!” He complained, none of this was okay.

 “If you think about it, you've already broken the ice, Jay.” His friend joked to cheer him up. "Everything that follows is easy."

 “What I broke was his leg.” He sentenced still agitated, he appreciated the attempts from the other for encouraging him but couldn't work for many reasons. “And wait, there's more.”

 “There’s more?” He asked, intrigued, with that face he made every time he heard a gossip that interested him.

 “There’s more.” He confirmed with a nod. “Now I know his name.”

 “You know it?”

 "Yes, I finally know it.”

 “Tell me.” He asked, beginning to smile, like an exalted puppy.

 “Do you want to know?”

 “Yes.”

 “Do you really want to know?”

 “Yes!”

 “Timothy Drake.”

 Roy was quiet again, thoughtful. This time Jason swears that he could see how the gears in his head gave their all -which wasn’t much- to assimilate that name and think where he might have heard it before.

 “Drake?” The redhead ended up asking with a frown.

 “Yeah. Drake.”

 "Like… Drake Industries?”

 “Exactly.”

 "Your father's competitors?!” He asked then, opening his eyes slightly.

 He nodded. His adoptive father, Bruce Wayne, was in charge of the famous and multi-million-dollar company called Wayne Enterprise, which for the past few years had been surrounded by strong rivals in Gotham, such as Drake Industries, for example. Directed by Jack and Janet Drake, who apparently have an only child, a student, very attractive and easy to hit.

 “Yes!” He exclaimed, taking his phone out of his pocket to show it to his friend, the object had started vibrating again nonstop, texts arriving over and over again. “And guess what: They are not happy!”

 “I wouldn't be either if you ran over my daughter.” Roy said as if it was obvious.

 “But you don't have a public image, an army of lawyers and a lot of money!” Technically he had it, because Oliver Queen is not exactly from middle class, but he was not rival of his family and the gossip magazines would not publish the minimum friction that they had. “They've already called Bruce and they want a meeting with those involved, they are going to eat me alive."

 He was sure they would. The Gotham's corporate and high-society landscape had never been his thing, he was just a street boy who knew no manners and bored by math, it had been clear from the first and only sophisticated gala to which he was forced to go and in which he learned that high society were unscrupulous sharks.

Maybe if he had gone to more of those parties, he would have met Timothy Drake before and wouldn’t have to learn his name after struck him with his motorcycle, but you can no longer change the past.

 "Well, yes, you screwed up." Roy finished saying as he nodded, totally convinced.

 What a great support. Wise words.

 “They're going to kill me, if Bruce doesn't do it before.” He thought aloud, they hadn't even made an appointment with the lawyers, and he was already stressed. “Or Fox with the public relations team.”

 He could already see the headlines in the gossip magazines, overshadowing the ones that talked about his older brother's one-night lovers or the ones that mentioned the bad manners the little one had.

 “Yes, you are fucked.” Roy said, nodding and taking in what he had just told him, although after a few seconds he frowned. “But… Bro, just one thing.”

 “What?” He asked, rubbing his eyes, and doing his best not to pull his hair out.

 “How did you end up running over the boy? You are not a bad driver; you are always focus.”

 Now it was Jason’s turn to stay quiet and look at the table, blinking as he chooses an answer that didn't make him look like a fucking mess. He couldn't think of any, so he allowed the silence to continue.

 "Jason?" Roy asked, beginning to lose patience again. “What happened?”

 Still not saying anything, Jay looked down further and felt his cheeks begin to heat up.

 "No…" Roy whispered surprised. Knowing him so well gave him too much of an advantage. “Tell me it’s not true.”

 He couldn’t do nothing more than blushing stronger, cross his arms and shrug. He wanted to deny what he was thinking, but he couldn’t.

 That morning he hadn't expected to see Timothy hanging around that part of campus with his friends as he searched for a place to park his bike. The boy was wearing a wide sweatshirt, but at the same time those tight pants that fit him so well, his blue eyes sparkled in the sunlight, the wind ruffled that ebony hair that seemed soft to the touch, and the soft and loving smile that was directed to his friends as they walked together caused things in Jason that he couldn't explain.

So, in one moment he was looking at him stunned and the next he had lost the course of the motorcycle and was hitting him.

 Shit happens, right?

 Apparently not, because Roy had started laughing. A lot. Had started with a weak and incredulous laugh that had grown to become loud laughter that made the tears jump of his eyes and the people in the cafe look at them again, annoyed.

 “I can’t believe it! Jay!” Roy said loudly and laughing like crazy, he could hardly breathe.

 “It's not funny.” He replied, his arms crossed and his face anger.

 Yes it was, it was very funny indeed. If it had been Roy who had run over his crush for having been too distracted having a gay panic for him, he would have also laughed a lot and wouldn’t have let him forget it for the rest of his life. So, he was sure that his friend was not going to do it too.

 “It's amazing!” The other answered trying to dry the tears away but still laughing. “Bud, you’re really fucked.”

 Jason knew he was saying it just because being so attracted to a guy to the point of running him over unintentionally was a lot, but if they took into account that surely now that boy hated him, along with his parents, friends, and lawyers, whom he would have to meet soon to deal with the consequences of that, yes, that described his situation quite well.

 Jason was fucked.

 ~0.0~

 “I just have one question.” Bruce said to his side, also laying his back on the corridor’s wall.

 One day, only one day had passed. 24 hours since he had committed the serious mistake of being too aware of a cutie with black hair and blue big eyes like a damn puppy, and he was already in the law firm wearing a suit, almost sweating and the man he could call father looking at him sternly. They were both in the hallway which was heading to the boardroom as they waited for permission to enter, and Jason had been trying not think about how he had destroyed his chances of dating the Drake boy before Bruce came up to judge him, again.

He didn't blame him, the man had spent the previous day receiving and making calls on his name, making the appointment as he could while containing his desire to give him a slap. He didn’t need the talk of "we are public figures, we have to behave" again, because he gave it that to him a lot at his younger times, so he had tried to stay out of it. This implied that Bruce didn’t have time to ask him anything before he had to get him up earlier to go to the Drake’s law firm. Knowing this, Jason continued looking at nothing, but he nodded to give him the opportunity to ask that question.

 “There are more than eighty thousand students enrolled at Gotham University.” The man began to say still looking at him. "And of all of them, you have to run over Timothy Drake precisely?"

 Jason seemed to think about it for a few long seconds, although the answer was obvious.

 “Yes?” He answered. No one at the university had caught his eye like Tim had, so he doubted he could have been distracted enough by another person to run them over.

 Bruce sighed deeply, exasperated, and lifting his hand to the bridge of his nose. He had seen him do that gesture of disappointment so many times throughout his life that he could no longer count them.

 "Jason…”

 “It was an accident.” He was also lost count the times he had said that since the day before.

 "I know, son, but it's not me you have to convince.” He finished explaining, taking another deep breath. “It’s her.”

 The tone in which he said that, was uncertain and with severe hints of fear, something he was no longer so used to hearing from Bruce and made a chill run down his spine.

 “Her?” He asked, trying not to break his voice from the stress.

 Bruce breathed again to try to calm down and nodded, the way he looked at him to reveal more reminded him of Alfred when he told him stories as they cooked together in the manor when he was younger.

 “Janet Drake.” He let out that name in a low voice, as if it were forbidden to pronounce it. “You've never met her in person, and I was counting on you not have to.”

 “Why?” This time he couldn't stop his voice from breaking slightly.

 “Don't get me wrong, she is a beautiful woman, very intelligent and talented. Everyone knows that Drake Industries has come this far thanks to her.” He began to say, in a poor attempt to calm him that was not leading nowhere. "But do you know how she is called?”

 “How?” His throat couldn't close anymore, he didn't like where this was going.

 “The Ice Queen.” Bruce announced. “That's how she’s known, but I can assure you is not enough.”

 This time he didn't want to ask anymore, although Bruce would keep talking. Because the ice queen, the ice queen, the ice queen, fucking seriously? No one who has earned such a name in Gotham's corporate and high-society landscape can be kind and understanding. Fuck.

 “I have only seen Janet angry one time.” His father emphasized as he pulled out his tie, as if it were choking him. Maybe he was nervous too. “Many years ago, at a gala organized by the Dumas.”

 It took Jason a few seconds. He tried to link that last name to some wealthy Gotham family, but unfortunately, he couldn't think of any.

 “Who are the Dumas?” He ended up asking.

 Bruce looked him seriously in the eye, returned to pull his tie out and nodded frowning.

 “Exactly.” He replied annoyed.

 Jason swallowed hard and looked back at nothing at the implication in that response. He was going to die, he was going to die, he was to fucking die, there was a beast in Gotham, a fierce and fearsome beast that apparently erased families from the business and social map and he had angered her, he had angered her a lot. He had awakened the beast by harming her puppy, and everyone knew that nothing was more dangerous than an angry mother.

 “Mr. Wayne, you can come in.” They heard the voice of one of the mediators calling them from the door of the boardroom.

 It's hot, why it’s so hot? He's sweating, he's sure he's sweating, or maybe crying, but he can't be sure because Bruce has put his hand on his lower back, trying to cheer him up and is directing him to the room followed by his own lawyers because they can't let the Drakes wait, but Jason felt like he was going straight to the slaughterhouse.

 When he entered, he was greeted by the sight of another group well-dressed, very serious and sitting across the table, lawyers, public relations, and mediators, ready to work and do reach an agreement between the two of Gotham's biggest families with their friction. However, all of them and their greetings were in the background for him when he realized that in one of the chairs was the small, nerdy and adorable boy who had accidentally hit, who looked at him from his seat surprised by his presence and -surely- for being able to put a face to his attacker. He didn't expect him to be there either, he should be resting, but seeing him made the stress he felt ease at least a little.

Both seemed to stare at each other for a few seconds, recognizing each other, and after what seemed like forever, Timothy gave him a slight, almost imperceptible, sorry smile. Jason's heart jumped and he felt warm for a second, his nerves almost disappeared at that gesture, looking at the way in which the boy had combed different this time for the meeting, how pretty he was -as usual-, or how a dimple formed in his cheek when he was smiling, how beautiful that smile was. He would like to see him smile more, smile at him, and does that mean he didn't hate him? He would like to know, and it was all happiness and hope until he realized why of that sorry smile.

 Suddenly he felt cold, so cold.

 Janet Drake was also staring at him, sitting right next to her son in a straight and elegant posture, without taking her eyes off him. Black hair, smooth and shiny, delicate features, neutral and apparently calm expression. Beautiful, but unattainable, because her blue, icy eyes pierced him in a way that froze him inside. The woman sitting there seemed to be able to see his soul and rip it off, everything from him, that could split him in two and rip out every part of his being without any effort. And despite appearing calm and serene, her aura, everything in her posture, in her gaze, screamed danger and misfortune.

 There’s no doubt, she’s the ice queen in all her glory.

 He was wasted.

 ~0.0~

 Tim was wasted.

 When he had got up that morning, everything he had asked for was that the meeting was normal and went without any inconvenient. And as he prepared to attend awkwardly and without receive any help, because half a day was not enough time to get used to using crutches, he mentally reviewed what had been planned for that meeting.

 His parents hadn’t wanted to reveal who had been the responsible for the incident, he didn’t know exactly the reason, but he sensed it must have been someone important, given the deployment of means that had been carried out, it’s not like they also gave him much opportunity to ask anyway. Both immediately went out to arrange the meeting and to arrange things with the hospital so they would give him discharged, and by the time he was allowed to leave he was too exhausted and wasn’t going to say no to anyone when they asked him to rest even more, because he needed it. Hopefully, he had already had an excuse to turn in those assignments later.

So, despite not knowing who he was going to meet, he had decided to do that unfortunate soul a favor and stay in the line that he was fine, surely it had been an incident, and they didn’t have to give it more importance than it had even though his mother wanted to cut heads and stick them in stakes to decorate the garden.

 He was the more affected, his word had to count there... No?

 Anyway, that's what he thought before he saw Jason Todd walking through the door.

 Now, all crushed down, the meeting had started a while ago and he was quiet, serious and sitting in his chair with the Wayne's in front of him, looking at the fine mahogany table and barely listening to the legal conversation that was taking place in his name, although why he fooled himself? Nothing he could say would change anything or appease his parents. But the thing was, why? why is the world so cruel? Jason Todd? really? Of all people, of all motorcycles in the world, it has to be the one from his crush?

 It's not like he'd ever thought he had a slight chance with him after all. Jason was tall, handsome, with that bad boy vibe that he likes too much for his own good, also smart, cult, while Tim was... Tim. They had only spoken face to face once at a gala where a 12-year-old Jason shared a muffin with him and never went to any of them again, sure he didn't even remember it. They also went to different faculties, he only saw him from afar on campus from time to time and they hadn't even spoken, but that didn't stop him from noticing him because he had eyes, thank you. No one knows, except maybe Conner, but beyond a curious sparkle in his eyes after realized that he was drooling over Jason in the distance, he never brought the topic up, so he'd always had that fascination with the Wayne boy in secret and under lock and key. He knew that his parents wouldn't be too happy to find out that he was interested in the son of his greatest competitor, or that he was interested in any boy in general, that topic had never come up anyway and he wasn't going to bring it up.

 Until the boy walked into the meeting room with his father and Tim almost had a short circuit when he realized that what hit him was an attractive literature student in a leather jacket riding that incredible Ducati. Come on, it wasn’t fair, he had always wanted to ride that, and then the bike, but it wasn’t the most appropriate thing to think about when the other one was looking at him surprised that he was there. He was so busy panicking that he only managed to give him a nervous smile that he hoped hadn't ridiculed him, and then when they sat down he could only scream internally because Jason was so handsome in a suit, this meeting might not end well, Jay could end up hating him if he didn't already, and his mother hadn’t taken her eyes off the tallest as if she were a shark smelling fresh blood.

 So, trying to regain his composure and recover from the revelation, Tim sighed, straightened up in his seat, and pretended to listen the meeting while trying with all his might to calm down.

 But he couldn't do it, he couldn’t, because it wasn’t easy. The atmosphere wasn’t the most adequate to do it, he could heard his father laugh and trying to appear friendly and understanding when he knew that it was only a strategy to emphasize the coldness and seriousness of his mother, who, of course, kept looking at the Waynes as if they had committed the greatest offense known to man. He played with his fingers for a moment and peeked to assess the situation, Bruce, or Brucie, kept an eye on the mediator's talk, while Jason… Oh.

 He turned his gaze away immediately, trying to control his blush. Jason was looking at him in a sneaky attempt too, but they had both failed when their eyes met across the table. He didn't know what to think about it. Did Jason hate him? He did? What was he thinking? He would hate him, of course. He was too nervous, and the possibilities started to suffocate him, he needed to get out of there.

 Luckily, his beloved malevolent mother, the perfect model for being a villain in a Disney movie, possessed a sharp sixth sense that was activated at the slightest sign of anguish on his part, which caused her to divert the piercing gaze of the Waynes to center it on him, silently asking what was wrong.

The only good thing about being run over a day earlier by the guy you like is that he could excuse himself from these kinds of meetings without any repercussions or questions.

 “Can I get out for a moment?” He whispered, lowering his head.

 His fear of asking something like that wasn’t exactly small, but Janet seemed to consider it for a few seconds as she carefully analyzed him before giving his approval and nodding, not before turning his gaze once more to Jason.

 Before deciding to worry more about it, he stood up as he could with the crutches and managed to leave the room ignoring the looks on him. His goal was to get to the water machine that was around the hall to pour himself a glass and calm down a bit, but that broken leg didn’t make it easy for him. It was a hard journey; he swears when he got there, he could hear the victory music of Mario Kart playing in his head.

 It would have kept playing, he would even have sang it, if it hadn't been because while pouring that first glass, a voice behind him caught his attention and made him jump and turn around with all the speed he had, which wasn’t a lot.

 “Hey.” Jason had said softly.

 He had to put everything he had together so as not to drop the plastic cup or crush it in his hands. How had he also escaped from the meeting? So much time had passed since his trip to the water machine?

 “H-Hey.” He replied nervously and looking down.

 That seemed to make Jason nervous too, who already seemed to be it before too, as well as a little guilty, because he tried to look everywhere except him until he had no choice.

 “Hi.” Said the tallest.

 “Hi.” He replied again.

 Eloquent. Inspiring.

 They ended up looking at each other closely, at least for a minute before Tim began to fear again and prepare himself for the impending rejection he was going to suffer without even trying. That happened to him for crossing the street without looking before.

But then Jason sighed hard, he tensed and scream in his mind than he wasn’t ready.

 “Listen. I…” He began to say, scratching the back of his neck and looking at him sadly. “I’m sorry.”

 Eh?

 “Eh?”

 The other looked at him confused at his reaction. Although surely, he wasn't more confused than he was, he didn't expect an apology even though it was the most normal thing to do in those situations.

 “I'm sorry.” Jason repeated, frowning in confusion. "It was an accident, really. And I'm glad you're okay."

 If Jason Todd didn’t want him having a massive crush on him this isn’t the way. At all. He had no right to be so attractive to begin with, but neither so good nor kind to him. Before Tim could think better of it, he was already spitting out an unnecessary question:

 “Aren't you angry?” He asked, he knew it sounded a bit stunned, but it seemed weird to him. “For all of this?”

 Anyone would have been upset or angry about all the trouble their parents had been having over something like that, with the lawyers, the firm, and the notaries. If it had been someone else, they would have caused them a lot of trouble, he was aware of it. So, he couldn't help but wonder how Jason couldn't blame him for the legal mess.

 “Shouldn't I be the one asking that?” Jason said raising an eyebrow and pointing at his crutches. “You were the most affected.”

 Blinking, Tim realized what he was implying on that and he quickly shook his head effusively. Jason thought he was angry at him? That he hated him for this or something? That’s why he had been so tense with him?

 “Oh no. It’s okay.” He hastened to explain. “I know it was an accident, I wasn't paying attention either, those things happen.”

 Jason's shoulders seemed to lift as if a huge weight had been lifted from him, and his eyes shone at him in a way he couldn't determine, made him want to smile, this time from relief. Jason didn't hate him, or vice versa. That was a good sign, wasn't it? It meant he had a chance… Right?

 “Thank god.” Murmured the other with a slight smile, clearly relieved.

 “Unless you did it on purpose.” He dared to say with a playful tone, wanting to take weight off the issue. “In which case, it wouldn't be so good.”

 Jason's smile widened and he let out a funny snort, relaxing him was a plus and made Tim compliment himself for that.

 “How would I have met you then?” Jason blurted out, still smiling at him.

 The atmosphere between them changed completely, it was no longer so uncomfortable or formal, but very different, embarrassed, and warm. Tim felt how his heart stopped before starting to beat faster, because that last one, the way he had said it, and the nervous look he was giving him now, was Jason flirting with him? It was real?

 “A-Ah.” He replied mildly surprised. “I don’t know…”

 If he continued like this, his brain would definitely fry, more than it already was. He looked at the hallway wall uneasily as Jason ruffled his hair, also undecided.

 “I'd like to make it up to you.” He ended up saying, looking like he had come to an agreement with himself. “If you don’t mind.”

 “Oh?” He asked, tilting his head curiously, his heart starting to beat stronger than before by the tiny possibility.

 “I can invite you to a coffee, or something like that… It would be okay?”

 This time when Jason looked up, still seemed impatient and nervous, but the slight blush covering his cheeks indicated why. Tim almost exploded right there, and he had to take all of himself to act quickly.

 “Yes. A coffee would be fine.” He also nervously stated, trying to control himself. “It would be a date?”

 The brief seconds Jason took to answer that question born from his desire to know, seemed like hours to him, the longest in Tim's life. But when he ended up nodding, scratching the back of his neck again and totally flushed, he couldn't help but smile excitedly and let his own blush appear this time, feeling warm and happy.

 “Then I'd love to.” He answered laughing, he couldn’t help it.

 “Yes? Really?” Jason asked in surprise again, as if it hadn't been clear from the start that he would say yes. Although by the way they ended up talking, it wasn’t surprising that he doubted his answer, not many people forgave something like a struck with a bike.

 “Yes.” He nodded again, totally sure. “What about now?”

 No, he didn’t want to go back to the meeting, he knew Jason either. It was no longer worth it. And maybe with this they could give the public relations team something else to work with.

Jason smiled at him in that warm and happy way that made him feel dizzy, but he looked to the hallway of the meeting room somewhat concerned.

 “Bruce is used to me avoiding these things, but I don't think your mother would be very happy.”

 After a moment of thinking about it, Tim almost went back to laugh again, happy, funny, almost touched.

 Before that meeting and his departure from it he hadn’t been sure, but with Jason now in front of him there was no doubt. Her mother expressed her love in very different ways, and it was evident that she had an efficient and sharp mother radar, there was nothing that escaped her, there was nothing she didn't know, no matter how much Tim had tried to hide his panic at the beginning of the meeting, or his sexuality itself. He was very sure that by now she had to know, and if she wouldn't have wanted him or Jason to leave the room, she wouldn’t allowed it. If she hadn't wanted them to talk right now, Jason wouldn't be there. It was that simple.

 “I think we'll be fine.” He assured him with a wide smile, taking his mother's actions as a kind of blessing.

 When Jason's eyes shined and he smiled back, he confirmed it.

 Yes, they would be fine.

 ~0.0~

 “You look so pretty today, Janet. You haven’t changed at all since our last meeting.” Said Brucie with his usual smile.

 “…”

 “How much time has passed? Six years?”

 “…”

 “And look at you, beautiful as always.”

 “…”

 “Jack is a lucky man.”

 “…”

 “And Timothy? Oh, I remember when he was little, totally the cutest thing in the galas. Now is a man too, but he looks a lot like you.”

 “…”

 “Kids, uh? Grow up so fast.”

 “…”

 “…”

 “…”

 “Talking about kids, ours have left a while ago, maybe I should go to find th-”

 “Sit down.”

 Bruce sit down and didn’t speak again.

[afni-fics]

Elder Scrolls DC - A Reluctant Dragonborn - Chapter 9: Bleak Falls Barrow - Exterior

Elder Scrolls DC - A Reluctant Dragonborn - Chapter 9: Bleak Falls Barrow - Exterior by C_R_Scott Chapters: 9/? Fandom: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Red Robin (Comics), DCU (Comics) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Characters: Tim Drake, Lucien Flavius Additional Tags: Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Skyrim/DCU crossover, Reluctant Dovahkiin | Dragonborn, Not Beta Read Summary:

Tim and Lucien make their way to the exterior of Bleak Falls Barrow, and Tim has another altercation with the local bandits, though this doesn’t go as smoothly as how it did with the tower bandits.

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

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It took another solid two hours of of hiking along the snow covered mountain path before Tim and Lucien finally caught their first up close sight of the exterior of the Bleak Falls Barrows resting at the base of the mountain peak.

Though the stonework was worn down by weather and age, the decorative stone archways that led the way to the Barrow entrance were still an impressive sight to behold. It was both magnificent and ominous at the same time.

"Wow," Tim breathed out.

He could hear the smile in Lucien's voice behind him. "Oh this is wonderful!" he exclaimed as he reached into his backpack and pulled out a leatherbound journal and what appeared to be a type of pencil made of a thin stick of graphite held in a simple, but effective, carved wooden holder. "I couldn't be certain when I saw the Barrow from a distance back on the road between Helgen and Riverwood, but up this close there's no doubt that this place used to be a temple of the Dragon Cult!"

"Dragon Cult?" Tim glanced back at Lucien

"It was a cult of dragon worshipers who were at their height during the Merethic Era about four thousand years ago," Lucien murmured as was sketching and jotting down notes. "They had a huge presence in Skyrim during that time before the Nords rose up and overthrew their dragon overlords."

"Could they be the reason that a dragon attacked Helgen?"

Lucien paused in his note-taking and looked at Tim. "I... don't think so. The Dragon Cult was destroyed midway through the First Era, which came after the Merethic, again several thousand years back, and nearly all dragons were killed with them during the Dragon War. The dragon at Helgen... Well... I think that might be the first sighting of an actual dragon in these lands since that Era."

Tim shrugged. "Ah well." Then he looked back at the Barrow. "Why don't you stay here to finish your notes. I'm going to scout ahead. See if there are any bandits about."

***

Turns out there were bandits patrolling the exterior of the Barrow. Tim watched the movement of three of them as they paced back and forth beneath the massive stone arches as he hid behind a wall at the base of the stairs. Tim frowned. This was going to be a challenge. Not only did those bandits have the high ground, putting him at a distinct disadvantage, but all three also had bows, which meant if they saw him they could pick him off at a distance.

But Tim had a bow of his own.

Reluctantly, he pulled it off his back and nocked an arrow to the string. Doubt began to creep into his thoughts. He was trained as a Bat, not an Arrow. Though he knew how to use a bow, it wasn't something he ever used extensively like his bo staff. He also didn't have the knowledge yet on how to alter the arrows to make them non-lethal but still precise and functional. Did he even have the skill and precision to shoot one of the bandits from a distance and not kill them?

As one of the bandits paused in their patrol and stood in one place for a moment, Tim brought up the bow and drew the arrow so that the fletching just barely brushed his cheek as he aimed at the bandit. For the first time in forever, he said a brief silent mental prayer for forgiveness if his aim was off before letting the arrow fly.

Unfortunately for the bandit, Tim's aim was off. He had been aiming for the bandit's shoulder, hoping to make it so the man couldn't wield either his bow or the war ax hanging off his waist. But he misjudged the distance and arch the arrow would travel

Instead, the arrow flew far too low and pierced the bandit through his knee, straight through his kneecap. Tim winced at the scream of pain before the bandit lost his balanced, tumbled down the stairs, and knocked himself out along the way. Reflexively, Tim rushed out to check the man to make sure he was still breathing. However, the scream had drawn the bandit's other two compatriots who saw him immediately.

Before he could get to the fallen bandit, Tim saw an arrow just whiz past his face, and he was forced to dive for cover behind a pile of stones. Unable to reach him with their arrows, the other two bandits drew their axes and swords and began to rush down the stairs.

While he was behind cover, Tim swapped his bow for his quarterstaff. As soon as the second bandit was within range, they found themselves with doubled over in pain as the wooden staff swung out and caught them across their stomach. As quickly as he could, Tim followed up by moving out from behind his cover and swept the legs out from under the bandit, causing them to fall to the frozen hard earth with a solid thud.

Before he could follow up and land a blow that was certain to knock the bandit out, the third masked bandit lashed out at Tim with a giant war ax. The world-displaced vigilante tried to block the blow with his staff, but there was too much force behind the heavy metal blade! As soon as it connected with the quarterstaff, the weapon split into two pieces with an explosion of splinters and Tim was knocked backwards to the ground!

Tim could hear a gravelly chuckling from the bandit as he approached to finish the job. The young man looked up to see his attacker raising his axe above his head to land the killing blow. Something shifted in Tim's perception. The image of the bandit was suddenly overlayed by an image of the headsman from Helgen. An icy shard of fear and desperation spiked through Tim as the axe began to fall.

"No!"

Suddenly, there was a moment of blackness in Tim's vision.

Everything was suddenly cold and still.

Slowly, Tim's vision began to clear. He was breathing in ragged gasps. Then he registered that his hands were full of something, and there was a weight bearing down upon his arms. He looked up in in growing horror as he saw an iron sword in his hands, the blade of which was now stained in fresh crimson blood. His eyes followed the trail of blood up the length of the blade until it abruptly ended in the chest of the final bandit.

As the masked bandit fell onto the ground, Tim dropped the sword.

"Oh no... No... No no no no no..." Tim dropped to his knees at the side of the fallen bandit. Frantically, he searched the pouches at his waist and found the one that held several red bottles of healing potion. Then, as quickly as his shaking hands would allow, reached out to remove the bandit's mask from his face.

Tim nearly dropped the potion.

"Croc?!" he gasped as he stared in shock at the unconscious man's reptilian face.

Tim froze for a moment. Thoughts raced through his mind. Killer Croc couldn't be there, could he? How would he get from Gotham to here? Was he hallucinating? Had he finally cracked and lost his mind?

Then he noticed something. He shoved his more panicked thoughts as far down as he could and leaned hard into his more analytical mind.

"His scales are the wrong color," he murmured under his breath. "Croc's are green, and these are brown." Tim took another breath. "Croc is taller, bigger, bulkier... This one's only about as tall as me. This is not Croc." Finally Tim felt the panic begin to subside.

Quickly, he uncorked the bottle and poured the liquid into the reptilian man's mouth. "Please... Please let this work," he whispered as he watched the bandit's throat shift as he swallowed.

The man's shallow breathing began to even out and get a little stronger. When Tim checked the wound through the hole in the bandit's armor, he was somewhat amazed to watch as the awful gaping injury began to mend itself right before his eyes. It appeared he might be alright now.

"Timothy?"

Tim glanced up to see Lucien standing nearby, a very concerned look on his face. "Are you alright?"

Tim set down the bandit's head as gently as he could on cold hard ground. "I think so. Just... caught a little off guard." Slowly he rose to his feet, feeling a little weak in the knees and light-headed. His back and left arm were also throbbing with pain adding to his disorientation. He stumbled a bit as he tried to catch his balance.

Lucien came up and helped to steady Tim. "I should say so," the scholar remarked. "You act as if you've never seen an Argonian before."

"Argonian?"

Lucien nodded. "Yes... They're a race of reptilian beastmen who originate from from the lands of Black Marsh, but they can be found all across Tamriel. Have you never encountered one before?"

Tim looked down at the Argonian as the man began to cough and groan. "Back home I know someone who looked a lot like him," he admitted uneasily. "He... wasn't a good person."

The scholar tilted his head curiously, giving Tim the same appraising look that he had earlier at the earlier bandit's watchtower. "That reminds me. I've been meaning to ask..." Lucien tried to look Tim in the eyes. "Where is home for you anyways? You look like you could be a Breton or an Imperial, but I can't place your accent."

Tim bristled visibly. "I'm no Imperial," he said coldly. Before Lucien could ask any more questions, he distracted himself with the fact that the Argonian was waking up and trying to sit up on his elbows.

"Y-you saved my life," the reptilian man said in a gravelly voice that, thankfully to Tim, sounded nothing like Killer Croc. Though Tim couldn't be sure, the tone of Argonian's voice sounded confused as his gold eyes, with slits for pupils, focused on Tim. "Why?"

Tim's expression softened. "I didn't want you or your people dead," he said simply.

"But I... but we attacked you?"

"I'm no executioner," Tim said. "And I don't know why you and the others turned to crime to survive in this place. Perhaps your reasons are justified, perhaps not? I'm in no place to judge."

The Argonian's pupils went from slits to fully round in an expression Tim assumed could be surprise?

Then Tim motioned his head toward the ruins. "My friend and I are going into the Barrow. Are other bandits inside?"

The Argonian nodded.

"I may not want anyone dead," Tim continued before turning the tone of his own voice lower and foreboding and kneeling so he was nearly nose to nose with the reptilian bandit. "But know that I am not above crippling anyone in order to defend myself and the people under my care." Tim's expression turned cold and menacing, his blue eyes like blades of unmelting ice. "My advise to you and your friends out here... Don't follow us. Just walk away. If I find you in my way again, I will make you regret every life choice you've made up to that point, and I may not have any mercy potions left to spare. Do I make myself clear?"

Once the Argonian nodded again, pupils still blown wide, Tim stood up and looked to the massive doors leading into the Barrow. Then he looked at Lucien, who had been watching the entire exchange with more that same contemplative expression. Whatever questions he had, though, Lucien decided to hold them for a different time as Tim addressed him.

"Did you get enough information for your journal?" Tim asked.

Lucien shrugged. "Sure. I got enough notes about the exterior. Let's move onto the interior."

As they walked away from the bandits, Tim paused to look at the remains of his quarterstaff where it had fallen in pieces. He sighed and walked over them.

"Do you need to borrow my sword?" Lucien offered as he saw the state of Tim's destroyed weapon as they moved up the stairs.

Tim shook his head. "I'll make due."

Then they pushed open the doors to the Bleak Falls Barrows and stepped inside.

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

Warning: This is being pantsed more than plotted, and this is not beta read. We'll see where this journey takes us. Mostly I'm just doing this for my own amusement.

Note1: If you have any questions about the playthrough and Tim's feelings/experiences that aren't described in the chapters, please ask me in the comments. I'll do my best to answer your questions as best I can.

Note2: It just so happened that during this playthrough one of the bandits ended up being Argonian along with the usual couple of human races, so I just decided to run with it with the role play.

Note3: I have also added a new mod to allow for more hand-to-hand combat options for Tim. It's called "Way of the Monk - Unarmed Combat" (https://www.nexusmods.com/skyrimspecialedition/mods/17684). One of the aspects I love about this mod is that, with a solid sneak skills, you can get access to both a "Chokehold" ability and a "Knockout Punch" ability! Woohoo! Using this mod in conjunction with another combat mod called "True Spear Combat" (https://www.nexusmods.com/skyrimspecialedition/mods/10483) allows me to give Tim his actual combat skillset of using both his longstaff and unarmed abilities! True Spear Combat even gives me access to shuriken and throwing daggers, so I can give Tim a ranged attack that has nothing to do with bows.

[armageddon-generation]

Batwoman Could’ve Been the PERFECT Batfamily Show

After Gotham ended so recently, Batwoman should've positioned itself as the Ying to that show's Yang by focusing on Batman's allies instead of his enemies.

The 'Bruce disappears hook is a brilliant way to do this

Kate is our audience entry point into this world

ORACLE + GORDON

Barbra Gordon has already been paralysed via The Killing Joke, and hasn't yet become Oracle - she's still recovering

Comissioner Gordon took an early retirement after his daughter was paralysed, which is why Kate's Dad's private security force the Crows runs the streets

Batwoman and the series' events inspire him to return and reclaim Gotham for the Law by the end of season 1

TIM DRAKE + WE ARE ROBIN

Robin disappeared with Batman, so we can introduce the We Are Robin gang. At the beginning of the season they're just criminals, but after Kate defeats their ringleader she shows them a better outlet for their rage, and inspires them. Duke Thomas (future Signal) is among them

Once the we Are Robins are established Tim Drake returns to Gotham. Kate is surprised - few people outside of Gotham know there have been multiple Robins. This way we can explain the different versions to people not in the know

Just like after Bruce was sent back in time in the comics, Tim has gone travelling the world as Red Robin, searching for him. Tim heard about the Robins causing civil unrest and is concerned about them marring Robin's good name.

Tim and Kate clash over the Robins' chaotic, violent modus oprendi - Tim enforces a philosophy of Robin as the light to Batman's dark - promoting positivity, not violence. A loose adaptation of the Robin War storyline follows where Duke Thomas emerges as the Robins' leader and rallies them to be more controlled and less violent

Tim leaves after this mini-arc, satisfied Gotham is in good hands. He also teaches Kate more about the detective side of Batman - he isn't just a blunt instrument. Tim will be our primary link to the 'Bruce's location' mystery throughout the series

NIGHTWING

Dick arrives in Gotham on a case from Bludhaven. Kate thinks he's abandoned Gotham - he should've taken up the mantle while Bruce was gone.

Explore Dick's troubled history with Bruce (not to F**k Batman levels), how Babs being Batgirl caused him to quit, and the one-two punch of Jason Todd's death and Barbra's paralysis only validated his getting out while he could

Tender scenes between Dick and Babs alluding to thier teenage crushes on each other.

As a cop, Dick hates the Crows being on Gotham's streets and more actively conflicts with Kate's father, driving up the tension between them and Batwoman

RED HOOD

This arc would be like a finale-style thing

Jason Todd returns and starts assassinating criminals with the ambition of 'controlling' crime. Kate is a soldier, more brutal than Bruce, so she has greater sympathy for Jay's methods

Jay is after the Joker. Like in The Dark Knight Returns, the Joker has 'retired' to Arkham since Batman left - he got bored pretty quickly. This arc introduces him properly after a few teases earlier in the series.

Jay learns of Barbra's paralysis (which happened after he died) - even then Bruce wouldn't kill him. A scene where Jason visits Babs (little brother/big sister dynamic).

Both Dick and Tim return for this arc, losing their shit over the Joker. Kate's reaction to the Joker is much like Terry McGuiness's in Batman Beyond: Return of the Joker. She doesn't get why everyone is so scared of this stupid clown.

Tim is the one who figures out how Jason was resurrected; just like in the Red robin comic he's been travelling through the world of assassins and knows about the Lazarus Pit.

I think doing the Red Hood arc without Bruce - the main target of Jason's anger - is super interesting. Most people share his anger at Bruce for disappearing.

It also lets us dig deep into the inter-Robin dynamics - Jason hates Dick because he always had to live up to him (do that thing in the comics where Jay had to dye his red hair black to 'look like Robin')

Jay hates Tim for replacing him, for being proof Bruce didn't learn his lesson, for Bruce treating Tim better, the way he should've treated Jason

Kate is instrumental to this arc because, being outside all the drama, she has objectivity. She forces Dick and Tim to get their heads out of their asses and talk to Jason, forces them to confront the problem.

Instead of taking the Joker to Bruce as he does in the Under the Red Hood movie, Jason takes Joker to Babs, who has suffered the most because of him. Confronted with the man who 'ruined' her life, Babs proves bigger and stronger than him. She refuses to kill him. Unlike Jason, she's moving on and growing past her trauma, not looking for revenge.

Joker (being the Joker) turns the tables on Jay and has him at his mercy. Kate swoops in and, like Terry in Return of the Joker, messes with the Joker's head by refusing to take him seriously. The Joker is distracted, screaming about Kate not being Batman, and Babs gets to knock him the fuck out.

Jason escapes, but not before dropping a clue connecting Bruce's disappearance to the League of Assassins

I know the showrunners admitted they have no clue where Bruce is yet, so in my version he's off on some quest with Ras Al Guhl. In the time since he's been gone he's married Talia and had a kid. no-one in Gotham knows this yet.

VILLAINS

We can explore how Batman’s absence has had a strange effect on Gotham's villains - many have gone into states of hibernation similar to the Joker.

Two Face gets his dark Knight Returns plotline where the attempt to repair his face, 

Mr Freeze has a similar ‘cure’ story a la Batman Beyond

Clayface (as in the Rebirth run of Detective Comics) is trying to go straight - using his shape-shifting gift to make a name for himself in the movie business. He thinks he's finally been accepted, but people are just sucking up to him because of his talent - the reality of their disgust threatens to push him back over the edge

Without Batman there to fight her, Poison Ivy has pretty much taken over Gotham's main park space, but a kind of stalemate has been reached - she won't attack the city as long as the city doesn't move against her plants.

Kate's central dilemma is navigating these unusual waters - she toys with the idea of putting Ivy behind bars and we get an episode of her exploring the micro-climate of the transformed Park. Kate's disturbance makes Ivy threaten the city, and she has to stretch her underused negotiation muscles to talk her down.

I like the idea of Ivy as an ambivalent character, not good or evil. She'll do whatever she wants. Also she and Kate would have killer sexual chemistry.

Harley. Exploring Harley in such a strongly feminist show would be fascinating. Joker has closed off, given himself up. Harley is forced to fend without him, and finds an antihero niche with the Gotham City Sirens (hi, Ivy!)

With Bruce's disappearance, Wayne enterprises is designing revolutionary new weapons for the Crows. It's revealed that they’re using the Riddler to design these. After Batman disappeared it was presumed Nygma went through therapy and was moved away from Gotham - in fact he's here.

This plot point is inspired by the New 52's Zero Year arc. Kate discovers the foul play when the Crow's systems go haywire because of a virus Nygma planted, sending Gotham into a blackout and giving the Riddler control of its municipal systems

Kate finds Nygma and exposes Wayne Enterprises' corruption, but in the process Riddler escapes.

Similar to Ivy, Kate's appearance excites the Riddler and he reactivates his Saw-like trap rooms across the city. Kate has a different, much blunter way of solving puzzles that frustrates him, used to Bruce's genius-level intellect.

This raises the question - is Batwoman a liability to the city?

BATGIRL(S)/BIRDS OF PREY

With Riddler's re-emergence triggers the appearance of Spoiler. In the comics Stephanie Brown is Cluemaster's daughter, but no-one really gives a shit about him. The benefit of a decade-plus old Batman means his rogues gallery can easily have kids - Stephanie had her name changed in witness protection.

Steph helps Kate beat the Riddler in collaboration with Bab's hacking skills. Kate sees potential in Spoiler and sends her to Babs to be trained.

As Batwoman's appearance reawakens super-crime in Gotham, the Crows get desperate. They hire world- renowned assassin David Cain to start taking out targets

Intro Cassandra Cain.

Cass + Steph + Babs are this series' version of the Birds of Prey

Babs teaches Cass sign-language to communicate. Steal her friendship with Clayface from the Rebirth Detective Comics - Clayface leaves the movie business again because it was unhealthy, and is trying to do good

Everyone is very protective of Cass and determined she won't fight

[imalwaysintune]

A Birthday Miracle

“Hey do we remember 161? No direct spoilers but this story follows Tim and Sasha after they throw their little party for Jon.

Enjoy! Hit up my ask box too!

Story under cut!

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“Well, Jon, I hope you enjoyed this little rendezvous I put together. I know you like to pretend you’re a sinister old man, but I can see in your eyes you really enjoyed it,” Tim joked, with a huge smile stretching across his face.

He saw Jon’s eyes scanning the room, making sure that everyone else had left and it was just the two of them. “Yes, Tim, you’re right. It was a very nice gesture,” Jon said timidly, the ghost of a smile passing over his face. “I just can’t believe you, Martin, and Sasha would go through all this for me.”

“Aw, come on Jon. You gotta give yourself some credit. You’re pretty cool when you’re not acting like a grumpy old guy,” At this Jon actually laughed, albeit a little breathy from it’s lack of use. Tim walked over to Jon’s desk where he sat and ruffled his hair, making it go everywhere.

Jon sighed and brushed the hair way from his face. He looked like he was thinking about something before he came to a conclusion. He stood up slowly and threw his arms around Tim, patting him on the back gently. Tim didn’t have time to react to the hug before Jon was already sitting back at his desk, his head buried in the piles of paperwork on his desk.

Tim decided to leave it for now, and slipped quietly into the hallway. He about jumped out of his pants, however, when he was greeted with an unknown figure in the hallway.

“Sasha! Jesus, you nearly made me shit my pants,” Tim breathed, leaning against the wall for support much like a dame.

“It’s not my fault you don’t look where you’re going,” Sasha chastised. “Look, I’m almost finished up in storage. Do you want to go grab a drink after work?”

“Hold on, are you asking me out on a date, Sasha James?” Tim was practically beaming, and couldn’t resist throwing in a bit of flirty banter.

Sasha walked down the hallway away from Tim without saying anything, just cocking an eyebrow before turning to face away from him. Though, he could’ve sworn he heard her say, “Something like that,” before disappearing around the corner.

While Tim was driving towards the bar he was to meet Sasha at, he couldn’t shake the grin that had ingrained itself into his face. He was jamming out on the radio, smiling at other passersby, earning him many looks of bewilderment. It didn’t kill his mood though, and as he parked in the parking lot of the bar, he tried to school his face so he didn’t look like a maniac.

When he stepped inside the establishment, his eyes immediately connected to Sasha’s. Instead of booking it over to her, he remained cool and tried to channel that into his walk. It made him look like a chicken, and Sasha could barely contain her laughter by the time Tim made his way over to her.

“What in the bloody hell are you doing? You look like an idiot,” Sasha said in between laughter, momentarily snapping Tim out of his façade. He sits down at the bar next to Sasha and places his face in his hands.

“Making a fool of myself, apparently,” Tim says through his hands, muffling the sound to the point where Sasha could barely understand him. 

“Oh Tim, you don’t need to do anything special to do that,” Sasha said, taking one of Tim’s hands from his face and lacing her fingers between his. It was the most intimate thing Tim had ever felt, and he had half a sense to not fall over in his chair.

He did keep some kind of composure though, as he held Sasha’s hand at the bar. He used his thumb to stroke her knuckles, internally screaming at the physical contact.

Their conversation was light, not talking about serious things they had to deal with at work. It was nice, and they laughed and drank until they felt like they needed to go somewhere else. 

Both Tim and Sasha stumbled out of the bar tipsy, arms interlocked so they could lean on each other for support. They piled into Tim’s car and turned up the music, going nowhere fast. 

They ran out of gas just as the pair pulled up to Sasha’s house, where Tim was meant to be dropping her off. The car sputtered to a stop in front of her house, and Tim had half the urge to laugh, it was almost as if the universe was setting them up perfectly.

“Shit, Tim, why didn’t you pay attention to the gas gauge?” Sasha asked, her voice light and airy from the alcohol in her system. 

“I was too busy looking into your eyes,” Tim flirted, resting his elbow on the console and putting his chin on his hand.

“And not the road? Damn, Tim you really need to step up your game,” Sasha joked as she mirrored Tim, their faces mere inches from each other. It took every ounce of Tim’s willpower to not close the gap and connect their lips, but he was willing to wait for her.

He could wait his entire life if it meant that he could kiss her once.

Maybe that was the alcohol talking, but Tim was suddenly overcome with an intense emotion. He leaned back in his seat and spoke softly, “I’ll find some way to get home. Thank you for giving me an amazing night, Sasha, really. I’m glad I got to spend Jon’s birthday having fun even if he didn’t want it to be with him.”

“Oh, come on Tim. You can just stay at my place. I have a guest bedroom and all the coffee you could want in the morning,” Sasha said, more sober than she probably intended.

“Ah, so it took you this long to try and get in my pants Sasha? Well, your evil little devil plan won’t work on me, cause I have standards,” Tim said the last word dripping with sarcasm, but he could see the flash of hurt that passed behind her eyes.

“Oh my god, wait, Sasha I was totally kidding, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. You’re totally up to my standards. If anything, you’re way above my standards and I am so lucky to have someone like you like some like me-” Tim was abruptly cut off by Sasha placing a single finger over his lips.

“I know, Tim. It’s just sometimes you need to learn to shut your mouth,” Was all she said, before getting out of the car with a wink.

Tim quickly unbuckled his seat belt and quickly grabbed the keys before getting out of the car and following Sasha, spouting apologies. Sasha just ignored him, walking up to her house, heading inside and expecting him to follow.

He was like a puppy on her heels, and when they finally got inside, he threw his arms around her shoulders.

“Sashaaaaaaaaa, I’m sorry. What can I do to get you to forgive me?” Tim pleaded, “I’ll do anything?”

“Anything?” Sasha’s eyebrow cocked up in a way that went straight to Tim’s soul, not that he’d ever admit it. He gulped as Sasha disconnected his arms from around her soldiers and turned around.

“I want you to prove to me that you love me,” Sasha said coolly, putting her hands behind her back.

“I... w-what?” Tim was short circuiting, Sasha’s words running circles through his head in a way that made him feel like he was going to pass out. 

“You heard what I said. We’ve been flirting back and forth for the past few years Tim. I want to finally give you a chance to give me a straight answer. Do you love me?” Sasha’s voice was calm, much calmer than how Tim felt.

He had prepared for this moment so much. He had run through every kind of scenario where he was finally ready to confess his feelings to Sasha. But now that it was actually here, he had stage fright. He thought he would be ready, he even had a whole speech written that was buried in a journal under his mattress. What he would give to have that speech with him right now.

Suddenly something clicked in his brain, and his body took over. He hooked his right arm around the left side of her waist and pulled her into him. He took a deep breath and looked into her eyes, which were looking expectantly up at him.

He relied on his instincts finally and connected their lips, wrapping his arm tighter around her waist, sliding his other hand along her jaw to cup her face.

It felt amazing. Her lips were so soft, and the way her body fit into his made him go crazy. Sasha groaned softly and gripped Tim’s shoulders, squeezing tightly. She smiled against his lips before moving back.

“There. Was that so hard?” She said, trailing a single finger down his jawline.

The rest of that night felt like a blur to Tim. Sasha showed him to the guest bedroom, sending him off to bed with a chaste kiss on the lips. It made his heart soar, and it took him hours to calm his mind and heart down enough to actually fall asleep.

When he awoke the next morning, the smell of bacon and coffee immediately hit his nose. His mouth was watering as he hopped out of bed and opened the door into the hallway. The smell of a home cooked breakfast was even stronger out here, and he followed the fumes all the way to the kitchen.

“Aw, Tim, you look like a little lost dog. When was the last time you ate?” Sasha asked, flipping pancakes on a griddle she had on the counter.

“Hmm, I guess the cake yesterday at Jon’s party. No wonder I was so drunk with only a few drinks,” Tim walked over to the coffee maker, grabbed a mug, and filled it to the brim. “Yum, my life force.”

Sasha rolled her eyes at this and smiled, finishing up breakfast and serving the both of them. 

“Do you think Jon is going to be any less grumpy today?” Sasha joked over her breakfast and coffee, just trying to make light conversation.

“It’s Jon, that question basically answers itself,” Tim joked back, finishing up his breakfast and helping wash dishes.

At one point, Sasha had turned the spray nozzle towards him and drenched him with sink water, much to his dismay. Soon enough though, the time came when they both had to leave for work or risk using late. Almost like a miracle, Sasha had a spare gas canister in her garage that allowed them to get to a gas station.

Sasha couldn’t stop rubbing the fact that she’s saved him multiple times already in his face. But even as he was rubbing it in his face, all he could do was smile.

Arriving at work, the pair realized how weird it might look if they showed up at the same time together. They agreed that Sasha will go in first, then Tim five minutes later. 

In the end, it didn’t matter though because everyone was too busy actually doing their jobs, much to Tim and Sasha’s surprise. Trying to shed their look of shame, they headed further into the Institute towards the Archives.

When they reached the door, the pair entered without knocking, much to Jon’s surprise. He looked like he had been deep in thought, reorganizing files that were scattered all around the Archives. He looked annoyed, yet almost grateful for the human interaction.

“How ya feeling, Jon? Feelings pretty old yet?” Tim teased, going over to ruffle Jon’s hair yet again. It was soft, surprisingly, and he found he liked touching it.

“Tim, we’re literally almost the exact same age. My hair is already going gray because I have to deal with all of you interrupting my work all the time,” Jon said annoyed, yet Tim could hear the edge of love that was in there.

They all loved each other, in their own way, even if they were all too proud to admit it. They really only had each other in this place, as all the other staff were so far removed or borderline evil that they had no reason to form actual relationships with them. 

So yeah, they loved each other. Mostly.

As if on cue to bring the whole squad together, Martin opened the door gently and froze when he saw the scene in front of him. 

Jon, sat at his desk, hair all messy from Tim. That same Tim sitting on the edge of Jon’s desk, turned towards Jon and laughing at the comment he just made. And Sasha, staring at the two boys with a goofy smile on her face, as if there was nowhere else she’d rather be.

“Oh, sorry, um, was I interrupting you guys? I can come back later...” Martin said, and started to close the door to the office before he heard Tim’s voice beckoning him back into the room.

“Come on in Martin, we were just making fun of how old Jon looks,” He said, picking up a strand of Jon’s gray hair off his head.

“That is not what we were doing at all. You guys were interrupting me, and I was working,” Jon said grumpily, yet he couldn’t hide the smile that was making its way onto his face. 

These are the days that really made Tim happy. It was these kinds of days that were able to chase away the nightmares and the dark thoughts that clouded his mind. But he didn’t want to think about them right now, so he chose to throw his arm around Martin and joke with his friends until Jon kicked them out.

The rest of the day went smoothly, and Tim’s mood was carried by banter with Sasha. Not only that, but Martin and Jon were also in high spirits. Everything felt right for the first time in awhile.

When the work day was finally over, Tim headed towards Artifact Storage to ask Sasha if she wanted to retrieve her car, but was interrupted when he was pulled into one of the hall closets by a dark figure. 

The figure had thrown an arm around Tim’s neck and a hand clamped over his mouth. He was about to scream when the figure leaned next to his ear and spoke, “So Tim, you thought you could start an office romance and fail to tell me about it?”

Tim all but rolled his eyes at the voice that spoke. Elias. He shoved off the older man and looked at him with disgust. “Really Elias? You’ve resorted to kidnapping now? What I do outside of work doesn’t concern you, so I’d appreciate you staying out of my business. This is low, even for you.”

“Oh please, I only care about it when you are distracting my Archivist from doing his work. I don’t care about what you and Sasha do outside of the Archives, as long as it doesn’t interrupt anything going on inside. Am I clear?” Elias purred, getting uncomfortably close to Tim.

Tim made a split second decision, and shoved Elias hard. He stumbled back and, for the first time, he looked taken aback. Anger flashed in his eyes, and Tim decided he didn’t want to deal with the consequences he had just brought upon himself. He shoved open the door to the closet and stepped out into the hallway, closing it behind him and booking it to Storage.

He was met Sasha exiting Storage, and the two collided, knocking Sasha over. Tim reached out his hand instinctively and caught her, but the force of her falling sent Tim toppling after her. They landed hard, with Tim on top of Sasha, though he landed on his elbows to avoid crashing his entire weight into her. It hurt like hell.

Sasha stared up at him expectantly, and Tim was confused until he realized that he was still on top of her. He quickly scrambled into a sitting position beside her and hit his tailbone on the smooth concrete floor. Ouch again.

Sasha stood on her own, brushed off the dust that had accumulated on her from being around old pieces all day, and held out a hand to help Tim up. He took it, bashfully, and slowly stood till he was facing her.

“Hey there, clumsy, you gotta be more careful when you’re making your way through a spooky haunted building, or you might run into a ghost instead of the love of your life,” Sasha said with a wink, before making her way down the hallway. 

Tim quickly followed her, stumbling over his words as he offered to drive her to the bar from last night to grab her car, to which she agreed. 

They piled into Tim’s car, and drove to the bar, the tension in the car becoming so thick you could cut it with a knife. Tim wasn’t sure why conversation was suddenly so hard to make, and the silence was deafening as they pulled into the parking lot. They sat there for a few minutes, just staring anywhere but at each other.

Finally, Sasha broke the silence and turned towards Tim, looking at him for the first time in almost half an hour.

“What are we Tim? What do you want us to be?” She asked. It sounded like the words were being dragged out of her against her will, and it hurt Tim’s heart to hear her speak that way.

Tim had to think about his answer carefully, so he just took a minute staring at a treeline in the distance. “I think... I would love for us to be something, Sasha. You’re such a wonderful girl and anyone would be lucky to have you.

“In all these years that I’ve known you, you’ve always managed to blow me away. You’re sweet, you’re kind, you’re witty. You are so perfect in every way, and it took me a while to realize that. All these years we’ve played this “will they, won’t they?” game and all I wanted to do was finally be like “they will”. I’ve wanted to make you mine for awhile now, I just didn’t know how to go about it,” Tim was pouring his heart out at this point, completely relying on his feelings to get his point across.

“I want to make you happy. I want to give you a life that you can look back on and smile at when we’re old and married. I want to grow old with you. I want to build a house and a family with you, and be able to invite our friends over and have dinner and laugh about stupid shit. I want you to become my life,” Tim felt the tears building behind his eyes. This was the first time he’d cried since his brother had disappeared, and it felt refreshing. It felt right, knowing it was because of his love for Sasha.

From the looks of it, Sasha was also crying. When Tim finished his speech, he saw a single tear roll down her cheek. He brought his hand up to her face and held it, using his thumb to wipe away the tear. 

“Fuck, Tim, I didn’t know you had that little love confession rooting around in your brain,” She laughed gently, and it tugged at Tim’s heart. 

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, hoping against hope that she fully reciprocated his feelings. 

She barely had time to nod before Tim was cupping her whole face and kissing her. He reveled in how soft her lips were, and how well her face fit in his hands. Sasha’s hand circled around Tim’s right wrist and drew him ever closer.

This day just couldn’t get any better.

When they finally disconnected, Tim had the courage to ask her to come over to his place, and, to his surprise, she agreed. He quickly texted her his address and then they were on their way in their respective cars. Tim was giddy again, riding the high of kissing Sasha for the second day in a row. Usually he couldn’t even get a second date, let alone a second kiss.

Most people were turned off at the fact that he worked at the Institute, almost like they believed he was a bad luck charm. All his dates seemed to go wrong in some way, no matter how many different scenarios he tried to set up. It was always once the girl or guy found out where he worked, they seemed to almost... fear him? The dates didn’t last much longer after that. He had basically given up on dating.

Until Sasha.

When they had met at the Archives, it was an instant connection. Conversation was easy between them, and there was plenty of banter to go around between them. It gained them a lot of curious glances from other people at their work, but they knew they were just friends. Until...

Until one day in the Archives, when Sasha was sorting through the Storage to find something Tim needed for a follow up. He had just been idly watching her as she sifted through what he thought was a mess, but she claimed she had a system.

He noticed how well her eyes had matched her outfit that day. And how her lipstick made her lips look incredibly appealing. And how well her body looked in the outfit she was wearing...

And he was suddenly brought back to the moment when Sasha waved the item he needed in his face, making some joke about staring that he couldn’t quite remember. He had laughed it off as a friendly gesture. There was nothing wrong with people thinking their friends were attractive.

But it kept happening. He would notice himself zoning out and thinking about Sasha. The way she looked, the way she laughed. Also, and he would never tell this secret to anyone as long as he lived, he had had a few sex dreams about her that had caused him to wake up more confused than ever.

And here he was, in the present, having just confessed all these feelings he had been holding back for years. He felt light and airy, as if a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. And in a way, a weight had been lifted. He no longer needed to hide his feelings from Sasha anymore. Whether she reciprocated them fully or not was a whole other story. She had barely said anything about it, just kissed him- which was more than enough, but-

Tim smacked himself in the side of the head. He shouldn’t let his thoughts get the best of him. He just needed to hear it straight from the horse’s mouth. Not that Sasha was a horse, of course-

By the time the pair arrived at Tim’s flat, he had gone through every possible scenario that was about to play out. Most of them had turned out bad, but when he tried to reason with his brain why things would end out bad, it wouldn’t give him a solid reason. He almost felt sick, but when his eyes connected with Sasha’s, all was right again.

It was almost like she could read his thoughts and school her expression to respond to his crazy mind. It was another thing he loved about her; she was always able to get him to calm down and see the bigger picture instead of focusing on all the small problems.

He didn’t realize that he had a goofy smile on his face until Sasha walked over to him and looked expectantly with her own smile on her face. He quickly set himself in motion and led her up to his flat, opening the door for her and pretending to be a chivalrous gentleman, even bowing as she passed him in the doorway. 

This earned him an eye roll from Sasha, but the smile hadn’t left her face. She truly was beautiful. As he closed the door, his other hand shot out and caught at her right wrist, spinning her into him and pinning her against the entrance hallway, careful to not knock her into any of the knick-knacks that scattered the wall. 

“Please tell me, Sasha. Tell me you love me and that you want to be with me, or tell me that you just would rather be friends. It’s killing me that you’re playing coy with me,” Tim was practically pleading with her at this point. He couldn’t take the waiting much longer or he might explode. 

“Tim, will you be my boyfriend?” Sasha asked, completely throwing off Tim’s thought process. Apparently he hadn’t thought of every situation, as he had no comeback for this question. What had just happened?

“Sasha I... O-of course I’ll be your boyfriend! Are you kidding me?” He answered, mentally kicking himself in his head for sounding so desperate and taken aback. Sasha, though, was smiling as if she’d just won the lottery.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered,” Was all she said before connecting their lips once again. This kiss was slow and almost agonizing. It’s one that spoke the unspoken word between. It was a kiss that made up for the years of stepping on eggshells around each other when it came to their romantic lives.

Tim was beginning to lose count of how many times things had just clicked for him that day. Everything about it had been perfect. Everything from breakfast with Sasha, to messing around with his friends, and now coming home and actually getting to say that he was Sasha’s boyfriend. He hoped this feeling would never go away.

They sat in Tim’s living room for hours after that, talking about all the signs that the other had missed during their time as friends. The times Sasha had intentionally worn something more revealing to work just so Tim would notice and say something- he never did. The way that Tim’s eyes would linger on Sasha’s face when she was talking about something she was passionate about- she never noticed either.

It was easy for them to laugh at each other for being so obvious, but it was just as easy to laugh at themselves for being so clueless. 

Sometime in the night- they weren’t paying attention to the clock- Tim busted out drinks and made them martinis. Just like he’d hoped, Sasha was impressed and even clapped when he presented her drink to her. When you lived alone and had nothing better to do, you learn odd hobbies just to keep yourself from going insane.

So they drank, but not enough so that they couldn’t pay their full attention to the conversation they were having. 

Tim kept commenting on how beautiful Sasha was, and each time without fail, Sasha would blush and start tripping over her words. Tim thought it was the most adorable thing ever, so of course he kept doing it. He loved the way she would smile, and her ears would flair up red along with her cheeks.

He suddenly longed to touch her soft skin, so he did. Reaching across the small space that separated them on the couch, he cupped her jaw with his left hand, and placed his drink down on the table. 

She leaned into his hand, much like a cat when you pet it. Tim’s heart swelled in his chest and he grinned as he stared into Sasha’s eyes. Her eyes flicked all over his face and he suddenly wanted to know what she was thinking.

As if on cue, she spoke as she reached up to grab Tim’s hand in her own. “You know, I don’t know if everyone in the Archives is even going to be surprised or not. I get the feeling that everyone knew we were gonna get together more than we did,” She spoke, her hand squeezing his tighter.

This made Tim chuckle as he spoke. “I think you’re right. Though, I think we might give Jon a heart attack if we tell him. He’s so invested in his work all the time that he barely pays attention to anything else anymore.

Sasha looked sad at that, sighing before speaking. “Well, guess he can find out when he gets an invitation for our wedding.”

“That’s only if you can get to the status of “engaged” with this sexy fellow,” Tim joked while puffing out his chest and putting on a “big guy” attitude, which earned him a belly laugh from Sasha. It was wonderful to hear.

Abruptly, Tim got up from the couch with bravado and walked over to his Bluetooth speaker. He connected his phone to it as Sasha stared him with a goofy grin on her face. Music began to fill the room, slow and classical.

Tim walked up to Sasha, sat on the couch and extended a hand, which she took immediately. She was swept off the couch as Tim practically yanked her up and into his arms. He was rewarded with a yelp and a look of embarrassment on her face.

“What are you-” Sasha began before Tim started to dance with her. He spun her gracefully, and held her against him as they swayed gently to the music. 

Soon she got the idea and danced skillfully with him, taking the lead sometimes, much to Tim’s surprise. He let her take the lead and laughed heavily when she dipped him. As he was staring up at her, her smile was real and chaotic, and it caused his face to mirror hers. He was so happy. 

He leaned up his body enough to kiss her once more, quickly, and was rewarded with her chasing his lips when he pulled away. 

“Ah ah ah, we can’t be too greedy, now can we?” He said before standing up fully. All of a sudden, waves of exhaustion rolled over him and all he wanted to go to bed.

He reached for one of Sasha’s wrists and held it with both hands. He looked down at the ground and his voice came out weakly. “Will you stay with me tonight?”

Sasha tilted his face up with a single finger under his chin and smiled at him gently. “Of course I will. I just might need to borrow some of your clothes because I didn’t bring my own.”

It took all of Tim’s willpower to not jump around the whole living room. Instead he just nodded and led Sasha to his bedroom, where he threw a pair of his sweatpants and an old t-shirt. She got dressed in the bathroom and when she came out, Tim was shirtless and in old basketball shorts.

Sasha walked over to him and placed both of her palms flat on his bare chest, and the feeling sent shivers up Tim’s spine.

“Thank you for today,” Was all she said before she walked over to the bed and got under the covers. Tim was stuck in place until he finally snapped out of it and also got into bed, turning off the light on the way.

And they slept, better than either of them had in a long time. When they awoke in the morning, they found themselves tangled in each other. Everything was exactly as it was supposed to be, and neither of them were inclined to change that.

The End

P.S. they lived happily ever after and married each other and nothing bad ever happened to them and they grew old together and if anyone says anything otherwise i’ll be mad >:(

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This one took me forever ahh!! I worry that it’s boring in some parts and that they aren’t exactly in character but i’m still proud! I wanted to try writing a longer one and that’s how this was born! I hope you enjoyed and don’t be afraid to hit my ask box! Also show some love to my ao3

Words: 5293

[soveryanon]

Reviewing time for MAG184!

- That domain made me a bit nostalgic? Given how The Corruption had been prevalent in the first season, The Big Bad, The Threat On The Archives, it felt like going back in time and facing an echo of the worms infestation the staff had experienced back then. As usual with the latest season, and the “infinite amorphous blob of terror”: the presence of the swarm of insects directly put to mind The Corruption (which was confirmed by Jon this episode, since he mentioned “The Corruption’s influence” on this domain), but there was indeed a Buried feel to it too, with the narrow tunnels, the ants pressing on all sides and drowning Jordan (also confirmed by Jon when he speculated that “The Buried would flow in to fill the gap” if he were to smite the colony); and I also got a Vast feeling with the fact that the ants were so numerous, that Jordan felt like he didn’t matter much in the domain and was losing his sense of scale, and that Leto was attuned to the fact that he was an ant to the Fears? (“And for a moment Jordan’s sense of scale deserts him completely. Are these tunnels actually sized for him? Or has he himself been sized for this looping, intricate colony?”, “If we are as ants to those things above us that torment and toy with us for their amusement, why should not ants be like us, each with a life as rich and intricate as any person?”, “But no, it is all the same, just the endless maze and ants and tunnels, unnumbered minds, meaningless in themselves but together a being that dwarfs him, that if it wished to end his suffering could do so without a gesture.”)

I like (HATE, THANKS JONNY) how the ants felt like an echo of the worms themselves in the way they could inflict hurt:

(MAG040) ARCHIVIST: It’s the last thing I remember before blacking out. Tens of thousands of… things without mouths screaming as one. […] TIM: There didn’t seem much point staying, so I went into the tunnels. They were cold, dry. You know that worm smell? That earthy rotten smell? ARCHIVIST: Oooh yes.

(MAG055) ARCHIVIST: And there were no… complications? JORDAN: Like… what? ARCHIVIST: Surviving worms that escaped. Uh, movement from the body during the incineration; noises from it, like screams or chanting; weird feelings, l–like a thousand, tiny crawling things are moving across your skin? JORDAN: … Wow. No. Nothing like that. Just the smell, but, I mean, I’ll get to that.

(MAG184) ARCHIVIST: “They shift and roil in dark and shining tides across the walls of the tunnels, pockmarked in their turn by tiny earthen holes from which the things emerge, retreat, and move as one. […] He does not know if this tunnel has the ants that bite, the ones that reek when they are crushed, or the ones so tough his weight does not destroy them, and he can still feel them moving, and squirming beneath his palm.”

They could inflict hurt through the biting, through that awful smell already familiar to Jordan, through the impression that they were indestructible and stronger than you.

I also quickly got the impression that the domain was harsher, even more implacable than previous ones, since at first, hope was absolutely absent from Jordan’s thought; the only “better” scenario was to not be covered by the swarms for a few seconds. In MAG166, the human “worms” were at least clinging to the hope of getting out, even if it was furthering their suffering (MAG166: “for what true fear can exist without hope, without the belief that things might change for the better? To tug at the knowledge that they will only get worse.”), but Jordan… didn’t have that at first, only the motivation of things not getting worse. Same thing with Leto, who was stuck in an impossible situation, with no way to spare the ants. Though, in Jordan’s case, hope finally appeared at the end of the statement, with his illusion regarding a “queen” that might be neutralised, which would stop everything:

(MAG184) ARCHIVIST: “The other man, that bloody omen of doom, is talking again, ranting, spewing nonsense about a queen, about finding her, about killing her. Leto struggles not to laugh; the words rattle around his mind in hollow recognition. There is no queen, he knows that. […] Jordan leaves the man to his despair, the words rattling around in his head. No queen. He knows that, of course, but sometimes he allows himself the smallest flicker of hope… that maybe there is a heart to this place, some core chamber, where the bloated insectile monarch might sit, vulnerable, and waiting. But no, it is all the same, just the endless maze and ants and tunnels […].”

(That was a trace of the Jordan we had met in MAG055: someone who was used to his job, who was fast at identifying causes and at acting upon them, who was used to neutralising pests and invasions. Except his logic and method, here, wasn’t the right one, because the domain operated differently.)

More on a few foreshadowing aspects of the statements, but the fact that Jordan was faced with a ~choice~ between two different tunnels, both of them having the potential to hurt but in different ways? Like Martin’s choice in the previous episode between the two possible roads (MAG183: “For us, there are two ways out. Two paths to London. One would be a long, winding route, we’d see a lot of horrors, but remain… personally untouched.” “And the other is my domain.” “Eventually. It’s a shorter path, with faces we know along the way. Including Helen.”), and Jon’s own decision to either keep going or do something for Jordan this episode? AWFUL, THANKS.

(MAG184) ARCHIVIST: “For a moment he hesitates at a crossroads, two tunnels before him, one large enough he need only stoop, the other narrow. He’d need to squeeze. And for a moment Jordan’s sense of scale deserts him completely. Are these tunnels actually sized for him? Or has he himself been sized for this looping, intricate colony? He shakes off such thoughts. The ants remain as small to him as ever, and as numerous. He chooses the tighter passage. [SCRAPING SOUNDS] Pressed so closely there can be fewer of them inside, and those that come for him will be quickly crushed. Or so he hopes.”

I didn’t understand why Jordan had picked the narrower one at first, before he explained the logic behind it (trying, at all cost, to get the ants out of him)… and I hate that he was right at first, before it backfired. And Jordan’s fear, when he fell into despair?

(MAG184) ARCHIVIST: “He flails, cutting his back against the ceiling, and freezes, the panicked thought gripping him, the image of those ants crawling down into his wounds, into his skin, hollowing him out – and making their colony tunnels of his veins. He screams, a wordless, haggard cry of despair.”

… It was to be turned into a Hive himself, uh? Which stung atrociously, given his own past brushes with The Corruption – John Amherst (who was protective of the ants), the wasps’ nest that had contaminated Jane Prentiss in her attic – and how he had detected a pattern and was suspicious that there could be others like them out there.

(MAG055) ARCHIVIST: So why make your statement now? JORDAN: When I helped incinerate her body, I smelled it again. Like before. Took me a while to piece the two together, but I thought you should know. ARCHIVIST: Are you… saying there might be more out there like her? JORDAN: God, I hope not! I don’t… know. The man from the ants house, he wasn’t like her, not at all. But that smell when they burned, I… think they’re connected, somehow. And that scares me. ARCHIVIST: Yes… yes, it rather scares me too…

Like with MAG163, I found it quite interesting that we got the other side of the story through Leto! I’m usually viscerally upset by violence between sufferers, but I was able to appreciate this one as just plain sad, and I don’t know what that says about me: is it that I’m getting used to it, desensitised to it? Is it because in this case, both Leto and Jordan came out of the encounter in one piece (although the domain would have probably reset them otherwise)? Is it because it felt a bit more clearly like two people stuck in a terrible situation? The first four statements had been extraordinarily violent when it came to victims hurting each other in the domain, but the lower scale (it was just Jordan and Leto, with different experiences and different fixations) and the quiet despair was easier to appreciate without reaching upsetting level for me?

When it comes to Leto:

(MAG184) ARCHIVIST: “Once, so long ago now that it seems almost like a memory of a dream… he knew these creatures, and they had known him. They had covered him, swarmed and embraced him, and he had, for a short, glorious time, known what it was to be loved on an unimaginable scale. For each and every ant was a life, a mind no lesser than his own, guided by senses utterly alien yet as vital as any he possessed. […] for that all too brief a time his senses were attuned to theirs, and he knew them, truly knew them. Unnumbered minds and existences all connected together as one – and they had loved him. When he thinks of it, it prickles his eyes with regret at the loss, the endless rolling mass of love that he had all but begged to consume him. But it is gone. His friends, the minds that he had once known so intimately, had left him. Now he sees them, moving and pulsing around him in a steady tide of tiny bodies, but he cannot reach them as once he did.”

Did he use to be a Hive in becoming? Would something like that have happened to Jane Prentiss if she had still been alive by the time of the Change, would she have been abandoned by the worms and lost her connection to them? The toxic love was another very familiar Corruption motive, here… And it was just sad that Leto was so concerned not to hurt what he still perceived as his friends, that his personal hell was about what he could inflict on them? It was so understandable that, through his eyes, Jordan would look cruel for hurting what mattered to him? It was miserable that what Leto feared the most only happened when he tried to act against Jordan – crushing and killing his friends, and then being stuck in a new impossible situation in which any movement would only cause further hurt, and inaction was the least harmful he could do. WHICH ALSO SET THE MOOD for what Jon would do later.

It was also an example of the domains only following the rules of what would hurt their victims the most (“as they tear at his ragged clothes that never fully rip, and always leave crevices enough for ants to hide.”), of events repeating and of memory potentially being tampered with since the Change (“so long ago now that it seems almost like a memory of a dream”, “the sick familiarity and bitter déjà vu of a cycle repeating itself once again”)!

- Ooooh boy, did that statement feel like a direct call out for both Jon and Martin: on the one hand, we had Leto, stuck in an impossible situation in which every action would cause further harm (hi Jon), and on the other hand, Jordan who still clung to the dream that there was a queen responsible and that killing her would turn things back to normal…

(MAG184) ARCHIVIST: “The other man, that bloody omen of doom, is talking again, ranting, spewing nonsense about a queen, about finding her, about killing her. Leto struggles not to laugh; the words rattle around his mind in hollow recognition. There is no queen, he knows that. There is no single will to command the wondrous expanse of crawling lives: each and every one is their own, and together they are so much more. […] No queen. He knows that, of course, but sometimes he allows himself the smallest flicker of hope… that maybe there is a heart to this place, some core chamber, where the bloated insectile monarch might sit, vulnerable, and waiting.”

(MAG162) MARTIN: Do you think it’ll do anything? Confronting Elias? ARCHIVIST: [INHALE] I… [SIGH] Maybe? MARTIN: No, I’m serious. Do we… [PAUSE IN THE PACKING SOUNDS] Is there a chance that we can undo this?

(MAG174) MARTIN: Hang on, you’re still down to kill Elias, right? Uh, oh, Jonah, whatever. ARCHIVIST: I’m still going to confront him. [INHALE] I don’t know if killing him is something I’m even… capable of, but if I can and I have to, I will. MARTIN: Yeeah? ARCHIVIST: Don’t worry. I won’t hesitate. MARTIN: … Right.

(MAG177) BASIRA: … So what’s your plan? MARTIN: Long-term? Elias. He’s up in that that… “Panopticon” tower thing.

(MAG178) MARTIN: God, I hate all of these… loose ends…! ARCHIVIST: I’m sorry. MARTIN: It’s, it’s fine. [INHALE] We’ll just have to tie them all up in one go! ARCHIVIST: Hm? MARTIN: [SIGH] Around Elias’s neck.

… “There is no queen”, and killing the self-identifying “king of the ruined world” probably won’t solve anything at all. There is most likely no “king of the ruined world” either, and Martin better reach the conclusion himself soon, or he’s setting himself up for soul-crushing disappointment…

- LAUGHING for Martin arguing that nobody likes ants:

(MAG184) ARCHIVIST: Are you alright? MARTIN: Y–y–yeah. I, I–I mean, n–no, I just… ARCHIVIST: Don’t like ants? MARTIN: Obviously not, no-one likes ants, Jon. ARCHIVIST: As the embodiment of all knowledge, I am not entirely sure that’s true but… okay. What is it?

Because Mr “I like spiders. Big ones, at least. Y’know, y’know the ones you can see some fur on; I actually think they’re sort of cute” should Know Better.

But also: precisely, we’ve never seen any spider being Corruption. (It should be possible, if someone’s fear of spiders is related to them swarming and invading their home? Or would The Web intercede to still go “NOP, MINE” in that case?)

But also: sobbing, because the ants were so reminiscent of Corruption and of the worms’ attack… and that was Martin’s first traumatic brush with the Fears, and he had been especially victimised and terrorised by the worms. It was a very personal and visceral disgust for him…

- Martin and Jon had both met Jordan personally before the end of the world, and had their own reasons to be grateful towards him: he agreed to give the jar of Prentiss’s ashes to Martin (who wanted to assuage Jon), and confirmed to Jon multiple times and clearly that Prentiss had died.

(MAG041) ARCHIVIST: It’s… There are, uh… Jane Prentiss is dead. I know this. I have a small jar on my desk of what are supposed to be her ashes, though I don’t believe it for a second. I think… Martin just gave me a jar of dust to try and calm me down. Give me something to focus on, for closure. I hate to say it, but it does appear to be working. A victory for the placebo effect, it would seem.

(MAG055) ARCHIVIST: … Say it again, please. JORDAN: Excuse me? ARCHIVIST: What you just said, can you say it again, so I have it on tape? JORDAN: Oh. Okay. “Jane Prentiss is dead.” ARCHIVIST: … You’re sure? Completely? JORDAN: Yeah. I watched the incineration. ARCHIVIST: And there were no… complications? JORDAN: Like… what? ARCHIVIST: Surviving worms that escaped. Uh, movement from the body during the incineration; noises from it, like screams or chanting; weird feelings, l–like a thousand, tiny crawling things are moving across your skin? JORDAN: … Wow. No. Nothing like that. Just the smell, but, I mean, I’ll get to that. It went well. Nothing left but the ashes I gave to your friend. Which I shouldn’t have, by the way, so… keep it to yourself. ARCHIVIST: O–of course. And… thank you.

So I’m glad that they both were able to identify him.

(MAG184) ARCHIVIST: What is it? MARTIN: N–no, it’s just… You know the guy you were talking about? Jordan? ARCHIVIST: … The exterminator, yes. MARTIN: Oh… [INHALE] I was having a look around and… I found him. A few tunnels over. ARCHIVIST: [INHALE] Yes, I know.

I wonder if Martin actually knew that Jordan had ended up giving a statement to Jon? Martin’s wording gave me the impression that he didn’t think that Jon would identify him as an individual without Martin singling him out, but I’m not sure. I liked (AND I’M SAD) that Jon was so hesitant about it, about what to do about Jordan:

(MAG184) ARCHIVIST: No, i–it’s alright, I, I’ve been trying to… I’m not sure what to do about it. […] I’m still not sure what to do about Jordan. […] Yeah, I just… I don’t usually know them…! [CHUCKLE] Jordan Kennedy did me a favour. He helped me with my own fear, a–about Jane Prentiss. […] MARTIN: … So what are we doing, Jon? ARCHIVIST: I want to see him. MARTIN: Fine, do your “knowing” thing, and then we can– ARCHIVIST: With my eyes.

With Daisy, there was only one thing they could do (Jon had been quick to point out to Basira that he couldn’t save her, and that the only option was to help Basira to fulfil her promise and kill what was left of Daisy); here, Jon might have already been struggling between possible options, instead of having to accept a single possible course of action.

- SOB, I’M SO GLAD THAT IT’S NOW CANON THAT ADELARD DEKKER TOOK AMHERST TO THE GRAVE WITH HIM TT_____TT

(MAG157, Adelard Dekker) “I can’t deny some pride in my solution, Gertrude. In all our discussions of how to contain a being that we could not destroy… I’m not sure we ever hit on a method quite so neat…! I am no builder but, by the end, I think you would have been hard-pressed to criticise how well that concrete had been laid – and Amherst four feet beneath it. […] But I shall not wait for it to putrefy as the rot overtakes me. I have dragged those other afflicted I could find into the Parkplatz, laid them at the feet of that appalling throne, and… taken the last gifts of that… generous construction site: a dozen cans of petrol. I will sit upon that seat, and release these poor souls from their suffering. [INHALE] And hopefully make things simpler, for the ECDC clean-up crews.”

(MAG184) MARTIN: Well… who’s the avatar in charge here then? That… Amherst guy? ARCHIVIST: No, John Amherst was encased in concrete and shrivelled away to nothing after just a few years. If they’d unearthed him before the Change… maybe, but as it was he was so starved of fear…

* I would have been heartbroken if Amherst had eventually managed to escape, but no! Adelard improvised, he improvised well, and his last actions were a success on all accounts (isolating Amherst permanently until he faded away, and at least allowing his last victims a merciful death since there was nothing that could have possibly saved them) TT____TT

(I’m still crossing fingers for anything about Dekker before the end (additional lore? His missing statement from 1991? A tape with his voice?) but I’m at least glad to know that he was successful, that he indeed made a difference before the Change, preventing Amherst from hurting anyone else…)

* Ahahahaha… Jon explaining that a fellow avatar “shrivelled away to nothing” because he was deprived of fear… right after Jon proved that being cut from The Eye was impacting him at Upton House… (Martin had connected the dots, understanding that turning the world back would not be good for Jon, but they also pushed back that conversation and… they really need to have it at some point…)

- Extra-relieved that Amherst is dead, since Martin asked if he was the avatar in charge in this domain: how awful would have it been, for Amherst to rule over the domain trapping Jordan… given that he had been Jordan’s first brush with The Corruption?

(MAG055) JORDAN: Got my first weird call about five years ago. It was ants, or so I was told. Down in Bromley. […] I watched as the door opened and a man stepped out. He was tall, maybe 6 and a half feet?, but it was hard to be sure of his shape inside the huge, brown suit he was wearing. He took one look at me, then the sign on the side of my van that read “Kennedy Pest Control”, and his face began to crease with rage.

I’m concerned, however, that Martin’s first reflex is still to cling to the idea that avatars are a necessary part of the domains, and that destroying them would improve the sufferers’ situation, whereas Jon had quite clearly explained that it wasn’t the case:

(MAG184) MARTIN: Well… who’s the avatar in charge here then? That… Amherst guy? […] So, who then? ARCHIVIST: Well, I’m not sure if… MARTIN: Jon, who is it? ARCHIVIST: It’s the ants. MARTIN: What? Ohhhh, like a, like a huge ant queen or something? ARCHIVIST: No. All of them. As a collective. MARTIN: [FURTHER SOUNDS OF HIS LACK OF ENTHUSIASM] ARCHIVIST: Crawling, devouring, spreading. One colony, one being… MARTIN: [DISGUSTED EXHALE] ARCHIVIST: One avatar. MARTIN: Right. Great. [SHUFFLING, BAG JOSTLING] … Nope. Nope, do not like that one at all, no. Okay. So what happens if you destroy them then? I–I mean, if they’re both the avatar and the domain? ARCHIVIST: The whole place would collapse and then, without The Corruption’s influence, I think The Buried would flow in to fill the gap.

(MAG174) ARCHIVIST: Uh… I’ve done so much damage, an–and anything that might help to balance that is–! [SOFT SIGH] … But killing other avatars, it, it’s not… I, I don’t think it makes anything better. I think it just makes me worse. MARTIN: … You’re removing evil from the world! ARCHIVIST: I, I’m not, though, am I? [STATIC RISES] The tenement fire is still burning; the mortal garden is growing wild; the carousel i–

Martin still hasn’t fully registered that “avatars” don’t matter that much in the new world (domains will keep working without them), and it was also blatant in the way he also concluded that there might be a “huge ant queen” controlling everything. Once again, it makes me afraid of the fallout when he will have to understand that Jonah is likely not the problem nor the thing allowing the apocalypse to keep running, even if he launched it… ;;

- The existence of the ants as both domain&avatar also makes me wonder about Helen: it’s basically the Distortion’s status, too? Jon had even pointed out last episode that she had a place like any other:

(MAG183) ARCHIVIST: Eventually. It’s a shorter path, with faces we know along the way. Including Helen. MARTIN: I thought Helen was her domain, wi–with all the doors and that? ARCHIVIST: She is, but she has a… position within this pseudo-landscape, like any other.

If the Distortion gets destroyed, which fear would “flow in to fill the gap”…?

… Is Jon himself an avatar who is also a domain, in some way…?

- Martin is still the audience surrogate in the way he asks the right questions with the information we were given to try to assemble the pieces together, but it’s also what he is doing for himself – he’s trying to understand! He’s trying to get the logic and narrow down what they can do!

(MAG184) MARTIN: Well… who’s the avatar in charge here then? That… Amherst guy? […] So, who then? […] Okay. So what happens if you destroy them then? I–I mean, if they’re both the avatar and the domain? […] I thought you said Smirke’s Fourteen was a load of bull? ARCHIVIST: I said it was limited, and draws artificial borders, but it does have its use when it comes to conceptualising these things. Regardless, I’m pretty sure we’d be left somewhat… entombed? MARTIN: But we could get out, though? ARCHIVIST: Eventually.

Yay for the Fourteen/Fifteen still being a valid and useful tool >:D (Though with the caution that it’s one reading tool, and not an absolute law.) I also like how Jon’s explanation flowed very well with what we had heard from the statement, when it comes to The Buried being likely to invade the place if The Corruption was diminished? Absolutely no surprise that Martin tapped out of the idea of getting trapped here since:

(MAG015) ARCHIVIST: I sent Tim to check the details – Martin declined to help with this investigation as he’s “a bit claustrophobic”.

So yep. Not up for staying trapped in a Buried domain for long. (And Martin might have thought of Jon’s Coffin adventure, too? Even though he hadn’t been there to witness Jon’s resulting PTSD afterwards. It meant a lot that Jon still offered the possibility given that it could have meant getting trapped in a Buried domain for a while, again. ;_;)

- Martin made some progress in understanding what Jon could and couldn’t do… except in this case, it turns out that it wasn’t exactly what Jon had said:

(MAG184) ARCHIVIST: I’m still not sure what to do about Jordan. MARTIN: I mean… What can we do, really? You’ve been pretty clear there’s no way for us to help the people who are trapped here as victims so… so we leave him here like all the others, and eventually we save everyone!

;_; Martin’s hopes hurt a bit – trying to see the bigger picture, pouring his effort towards a Big Solution, potentially to cheer up Jon by laying out a plan that feels quite simple (and awfully optimistic). Meanwhile, Jon had… not been that firm about his ability in the new world. He had specifically said:

(MAG171) ARCHIVIST: I don’t care. JARED: … No. You don’t, do you? ARCHIVIST: … I can’t… There’s too many. I can’t save everyone. [EXHALE] I c–, I can’t save anyone.

And I had been intrigued, back then, by that “everyone” turning into “anyone”… which wasn’t exactly the same thing.

- The point about them mostly knowing avatars was equally funny and indeed a terrible tidbit:

(MAG184) ARCHIVIST: Jordan Kennedy did me a favour. He helped me with my own fear, a–about Jane Prentiss. MARTIN: I sometimes forget that most of the people we know are avatars. ARCHIVIST: Yes, that… Hmm. Not sure I like that realisation. Our peers… MARTIN: Yeah. [INHALE] Dinner parties are going to be tricky, eh! ARCHIVIST: Hm!

Sob about that “ours peers” (including Martin. Martin didn’t protest but cut that segment shut pretty quickly. The recent news still stings, uh.), and Martin still insisting on “avatars” even though Jon snapped in the previous episode that the term doesn’t describe a clear-cut reality. (Gasp, is Martin implying that they didn’t have dinner parties with Annabelle at Upton House? Jon had mentioned he didn’t want to eat anything brought by Annabelle and Martin had pointed out that she was providing food for them.)

That “most of the people we know are avatars” makes sense story-wise? But it’s also true that all the characters we’ve met were avatars, or victims of the Fears, or touched by them through Jon, something Jon had kind of alluded to in season 3:

(MAG094) ARCHIVIST: Uh, no, I– I just… Ther–there’s been a lot of statements, in not a lot of time. I’m… I’m exhausted. I kind of wish I knew, uh, knew even one person who genuinely wasn’t involved. GEORGIE: Maybe that’s why you thought of me? ARCHIVIST: Hm? GEORGIE: I mean, it’s been years, and there must be other old friends you lost touch with. Maybe you did know? ARCHIVIST: Yeah, maybe. I, uh…

And mmmm… The Web has such a knack for storytelling, for activities revolving around the idea of crafting a story, that the question had to be asked: is it a coincidence? Is it perfectly legitimate given the circumstances of having worked at the Institute for years? Or did something influence Jon&Martin, for the only people they’ve known for the past years to have been somehow connected with the Fears?

- I love how we could perfectly understand that Jon was making a Face here:

(MAG184) ARCHIVIST: I want to see him. MARTIN: Fine, do your “knowing” thing, and then we can– ARCHIVIST: With my eyes. MARTIN: … Okay. But, just so you know, the tunnels to get there are absolutely craw– Yeah, okay. Yes, no, yes, you already know. [SIGH] Lead on.

Martin…

- The soundscaping of the ants this episode was AWFUL, and Jordan’s wails were AWFUL, kudos to Tim Ledsam, I hated it so much, it lasted for so long and was making me so uneasy TT__TT

(MAG184) [MORE SWARMING SOUNDS] JORDAN: [WAILS OF PAIN AND STRUGGLES] MARTIN: Christ… [BAG JOSTLING] Jon? JORDAN: You…! What are–? F–from the Magnus– Ah! Help me! MARTIN: … Jon, what are we doing here? JORDAN: [WAILS OF PAIN] ARCHIVIST: I don’t… I– JORDAN: [ANGUISHED SCREAMS OF AGONY] Help! Please! [SCREAMS]

I was a bit surprised that Jordan could directly see Jon? So far, only the Spider had potentially referred to Jon (MAG172: “It’s such a shame, but I couldn’t do such a thing even if I wanted to! The man in the audience saw to that! [CHUCKLES] I am no more free than you are, little puppet.”), and the Spider was part of the fear, or even the ruler of that domain; Jon had even pointed out to Martin that victims wouldn’t hear them, or at least not Martin (MAG163: “I–ignore them, they’re not… Just ignore them. […] I just mean there’s no point… talking to them. […] They won’t hear you, Martin, they’re all… too busy waiting to die.”). Could Jordan see Jon because Jon was already in a Beholding mode? Because of their connection, since Jordan had given a live statement and had been trapped in Jon’s Beholding dreams for two years, thus initially being Jon’s own victim? It was interesting that in this case, he could directly see and interact with Jon, and I wonder why it could happen…

- When Jon began to intone, I feared for a second that he was going to mercy-kill Jordan, since he had been pleading for help – until Jon reached the “Gaze” part, since… it was reminiscent of MAG120, so something different was happening!

(MAG184) [STATIC RISES: LOW AND SPIRALLING, PRESSURING] ARCHIVIST: Ceaseless Watcher, look upon this man– MARTIN: Jon… ARCHIVIST: –subsumed by terror and gripped with swarming fear. JORDAN: [WAILS OF PAIN] [DIGITAL GLITCHING SOUNDS] ARCHIVIST: Gaze into him, through him… and out of him. MARTIN: What does that mean? ARCHIVIST: Make him a vessel of your hunger… JORDAN: [WAILS OF PAIN] ARCHIVIST: … staring out and harvesting with a thousand, thousand, thousand, tiny, eager, eyes. [DIGITAL GLITCHING SOUNDS] MARTIN: Hang on… JORDAN: [WAILS OF PAIN] [STATIC INCREASES FURTHER] ARCHIVIST: Gift him your power and protection – make him yours. [STATIC DECREASES AND FADES]

(MAG120) ELIAS: “And at last, the Archivist looks up. [STATIC INCREASES] At last, he looks into The Eye that sees all, and knows all, and clutches at the secret terrors of your heart. The Ceaseless Watcher of all that is, and all that was; the voracious, infinite hunger that tears at his soul, invoking him to discover, to observe, to experience all and everything and forever. It stares into him, and it stares out of him, and he is falling into the devouring eternity of its pupil. He wants to cry out in horror – but he cannot.  He. is. whole.”

* Regardless of what Jon actually does when drawing Beholding’s powers, I don’t liiiiike that he’s doing it in the first place, and I don’t liiiiike that it’s about Beholding taking ownership of people and their sufferings (“yours”) ;; Jon had mentioned that the smiting was “making [him] worse” (MAG174), I personally interpreted it as using Beholding’s powers, period, being something that makes him worse, and Jon feels so… frightening when he does this? Long-term, we know it can’t mean anything good ;;

* Martin’s incomprehension during the chant was so satisfying to hear; I found it a bit funny (Martin being absolutely out the loop and wtfh and perfect audience surrogate), and it also brings me relief (Martin reacting and agreeing that it’s something weird and off and potentially dangerous).

* SOB about Jon’s imprecation to turn Jordan into “a vessel of your hunger staring out and harvesting with a thousand, thousand, thousand, tiny, eager, eyes.”: a lot of statements, since the Change, have had mentions of eyes, of the feeling of being watched, as if they were relays for Beholding to feast on… and the idea that it would watch everything through the ants’ eyes is a horrifying thought, which makes so much sense.

Lore-wise: it… wasn’t an absolute surprise that Jon could turn a watched into a watcher, since Helen had pointed out that Jon was able to turn one into the other in the context of the Not!Them’s death, but never said anything about it being a one-direction mechanism:

(MAG166) HELEN: We’re all here, Martin. The Stranger; The Buried; The Desolation; all of us. But The Eye still rules. All this fear is being performed for its benefit. And so, there are now exactly two roles available in this new world of ours: the watcher, and the watched. Subject, and object. Those who are feared, and those who are afraid. And Jon, well… he is part of The Eye; a very important part. And he’s able to, shall we say… shift its focus. Turn the one into the other. And for those of us whose very existence relies on being feared, well… To be turned into a victim destroys us utterly. And very, very painfully.

Helen had also mentioned last episode that they were “all snoops now”, so… not surprising, either, that Jordan’s change (although bounding him to the ants and The Corruption) had to go through eyes…

- Sound effects-wise: same pressuring static and glitching sounds as during a smiting, except that we didn’t get the ripping parts (… since there was no smiting). I hate this static; it’s so well-done but it fills me with dread, “something bad is happening” feelings every time ;;

- Jordan BROKE MY HEART all through the episode, but him being confused and lost after his transformation was extra-painful.

(MAG184) [SILENCE BUT FOR THE ANT SOUNDS, A LOT LESS] [SIBILANT BUZZ, SIMILAR TO THAT OF INSECT WINGS] ARCHIVIST: … Jordan? JORDAN: Wha… Wh–what is this? ARCHIVIST: How do you feel? JORDAN: [QUAVERING] I, I don’t… I, I know you. From the Magnus Institute. What are you d–doing here? What is this? MARTIN: [THIN-LIPPED] Yeah, I’m curious about that myself. JORDAN: What did you do to me? I feel…

Jon and the other avatars we’ve met had to go through a process, with different steps. For Jordan, everything changed in one go – no wonder he was absolutely upset and distressed to get changed and to be suddenly relying on a new source of energy ;_; The new buzzing sound in the background already marking that he wasn’t the same… He was potentially physically transformed, too? Half-insect? How harsh, given that he used to be an exterminator and that Jon still identified him as that…

(As for the hisses-like sounds, I interpreted it as Jordan being directly fed the fears from his domain?)

- Amongst the heartbreaking bits, ALL THE PARALLELS with Jon and his own transformation as the Archivist.

* The fear feeling good and awful at the same time?

(MAG147) ARCHIVIST: What I’ve been doing to these people, it– … It hasn’t been because I was… “puppetted”, or “controlled”, or “possessed”. I wanted to do it. It felt good. … But at least, I know I can stop. I just… [INHALE] don’t know how. I… [INHALE] I don’t… want… to stop… … Goddamn!

(Season 5 trailer) ARCHIVIST: Yes, I, I’m trying not to, but… all of the fear, th–the anguish, i–it just… [INHALE] It keeps coming at me in waves, rolling over me, filling my head with such… awful sights. MARTIN: … I’m sorry. That sounds… [SMALL EXHALE] That sounds horrible. ARCHIVIST: … I wish it was, Martin. I really wish it was. … But it feels… right. [MIRTHLESS HUFF]

(MAG184) JORDAN: What did you do to me? I feel… ARCHIVIST: Better? JORDAN: Sick. [HISSING SOUND] Like I– [HISSING SOUND] [GASP] … What…? What was that? ARCHIVIST: You’re seeing it. Feeling it, the fear of all the others here. JORDAN: All that screaming… They’re everywhere… crawling over them, like they did me… It feels… ARCHIVIST: Good? JORDAN: … Yeah… But wrong. Sick. … What did you do to me?

(With Jordan potentially having his own Corruption-flavour to it? It might have felt “sick” to him because feeding from suffering is a twisted thing, but also because what feels good for a Corruption avatar is precisely what feels like a disease.)

* Jordan wanting to reject what he had become and insisting that it hadn’t been something he wanted?

(MAG092) ARCHIVIST: [EMPHATICALLY] I never chose this. ELIAS: You never wanted this, no. But I’m afraid you absolutely did choose it. ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] ELIAS: In a hundred ways, at a hundred thresholds, you pressed on. You sought knowledge relentlessly, and you always chose to see. Our world is made of choices, Jon, and very rarely do we truly know what any of them mean. But we make them nonetheless.

(MAG184) JORDAN: “Helped me”? I don’t feel right, I, I just– [HISSING SOUND] [GASP] No, I don’t– [HISSING SOUND] I don’t want this! [THE INSECTILE NOISE GETS MORE PRONOUNCED] MARTIN: Jordan? Jordan, just relax, it’ll be fine, you’ll be okay. JORDAN: No, I don’t– I didn’t ask for this! ARCHIVIST: You preferred the ants? JORDAN: … No! ARCHIVIST: Covered and agonised? I know how scared you were, I felt it. JORDAN: It was… It was a nightmare. And I couldn’t wake up. But this is, uh… I don’t understand…

Which made Jon into “the Elias” in this situation (as the person directly responsible for turning someone into an agent serving one of the Fears), and also showed how Jon, precisely, wasn’t Elias: their motivations differ greatly (self-gain versus sympathy/pity), and Jon didn’t try to gaslight Jordan by putting the blame on him via his “choice”.

* Jordan struggling with the idea of hurting others and feeding from their misery?

(MAG152) ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] … When does it stop? HELEN: What? ARCHIVIST: The guilt… The misery… All the others I’ve met, they’ve been… cold. Cruel. They’ve enjoyed what they do. When does The Eye… make me monstrous? HELEN: [LAUGHS AND LAUGHS, ECHOING] Why would it ever do that? […] Helen was like you, at first. She felt such guilt over taking people. Until one day, she realised she wasn’t going to stop doing it. So she chose to stop feeling guilty.

(MAG184) JORDAN: You turned me into what? A torturer? ARCHIVIST: Yes. JORDAN: … Why? […] I don’t… I don’t know how to be this. I don’t want to scare people. ARCHIVIST: No. But you’ll learn.

* Jordan feeling lost about his new status, what would happen from then on, whether he was still himself?

(MAG092) ARCHIVIST: I’m not getting any answers out of this, am I? ELIAS: The easily digestible sort, that wipe away any doubt and fear and neatly organise your new world into happy little columns? ARCHIVIST: [SCOFF] ELIAS: … No. Not from me. These are things you must discover on your own. […] ARCHIVIST: Am I… Elias, am I still human? ELIAS: Jon. What does human even mean? I mean, really? You still bleed, you can still die. And your will is still your own, mostly. That’s more than can be said for a lot of the “real” humans out there.

(MAG184) JORDAN: … Am I still me? ARCHIVIST: I don’t know how to answer that. I can put you back if you want. You could become a victim again? Rather than complicit.

Jon was absolutely sincere in that moment: he had questioned his identity so much in season 3 and season 4, and… hadn’t really found an answer:

(MAG093) ARCHIVIST: You’ve seen monsters? GEORGIE: Not the time, Jon. ARCHIVIST: Right, it’s… it’s just I think I’m turning into one.

(MAG099) GEORGIE: You’re not doing well. You keep apologising and saying you’re changing, but it’s all just the same. […] Look, you’re worried. I get it. But if you really think you’re turning into something… inhuman, you need people around you. You need anchors.

(MAG122) BASIRA: Jon, is it still… you? ARCHIVIST: Uh… Y… yes. Y–yes, I… I think so? I–I don’t know how you’d… prove it, though. […] They can be hard though, sometimes, other–other people. Feelings. I, I’m… I’m trying to focus. Trying to… make sure I’m… the same me as before, but… how can anyone really remember that? How do you know… you’re the same person that went to sleep…?

(MAG126) ARCHIVIST: A “Great Twisting”, that Gertrude stopped at the cost of a single life. … I thought… moving away from my humanity… would have made that seem more acceptable. That sort of sacrifice… But it just makes me sad…

(MAG136) ARCHIVIST: I… [SIGH] I don’t feel like I’m exactly in the best place to judge the… intersection [CHUCKLE] between free will and humanity. Still trying to figure that out myself. […] My memories of the coma are not clear. But I know I made a choice; I made a choice to become… something else. Because I was afraid to die. But ever since then, I… I don’t know if I made the right decision; I–I’m stronger now, tougher, I can… … If I do die, now, or get sealed away somewhere forever… I don’t know if that’s a bad thing. And I don’t want to lose anyone else so, if I can maybe stop that happening, and [MIRTHLESS CHUCKLE] the only danger is to me, I– I’ll do it in a heartbeat; worst case scenario… the universe loses another monster.

(MAG142) DAISY: And of course, for Jon, there’s survivor’s guilt in there, too. He thinks he’s not human. Makes him very… self-destructive.

I feel like, mostly, what happened to Jordan put them both in opposition to Jonah. He had declared that:

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “Why does a man seek to destroy the world? It’s a simple enough answer: for immortality, and power. Uninspired, perhaps, but – my God! The discovery, not simply of the dark and horrible reality of the world in which you live, but that you would quite willingly doom that world and confine the billions in it to an eternity of terror and suffering, all to ensure your own happiness; to place yourself beyond pain, and death, and fear. It is an awful thing to know about yourself, but the freedom, Jon, the freedom of it all…! I have dedicated my life to handing the world to these Dread Powers, all for my own gain, and I feel… nothing but satisfaction, in that choice.”

And we’ve seen through Jon in season 4, and with Jordan right now, that… no. There is no “freedom” in that choice. There is only guilt and despair.

(Jonah, you might have had over two centuries to rot and become like this, but by October 18th 2018, you were trash, and that was all you.)

- I also love/hate the complexity around the “help” that was granted: Jordan was pleading for it. Jordan wanted his hell to stop. Jon answered that call and gave what he could, and it comes after bitterly pointing out that his actions were limited for long, but that he was conscious of his power and would like to help somehow…

(MAG173) ARCHIVIST: I don’t know what you want me to do! MARTIN: I want you to use your power, I want you to help them, I want you to make things better! ARCHIVIST: There – is – no – “better” anymore. MARTIN: You keep saying that, and I hate it! […] What I know is that leaving children here is… i–i–it’s inexcusable, i–it’s monstrous! ARCHIVIST: Martin, tell me what you want me to do, and I will do it! […] MARTIN: The sooner we get back to the Archives, the sooner we can put a stop to this. All of this. They just… [INHALE] They’ll just need to hang on a little longer. ARCHIVIST: … Right. [EXHALE] Right.

(MAG174) MARTIN: … What is it, Jon, what’s wrong? ARCHIVIST: I–I just–! … This whole… “avenging angel” thing, I–I’m not… It doesn’t feel right. MARTIN: … It seemed to feel right when we were avenging all the wrongs done against you! ARCHIVIST: I know. I–I–I know, all right? But, well, th–… [SIGH] That’s kind of the problem, I have all this… power and, and I, I want to use it to try and help, but I… I don’t know, I mean, I do. Uh… I’ve done so much damage, an–and anything that might help to balance that is–! [SOFT SIGH] … But killing other avatars, it, it’s not… I, I don’t think it makes anything better. I think it just makes me worse.

(MAG184) JORDAN: You…! What are–? F–from the Magnus– Ah! Help me! […] [ANGUISHED SCREAMS OF AGONY] Help! Please! [SCREAMS] […] It feels… ARCHIVIST: Good? JORDAN: … Yeah… But wrong. Sick. … What did you do to me? ARCHIVIST: I helped you. JORDAN: “Helped me”? I don’t feel right, I, I just– [HISSING SOUND] [GASP] No, I don’t– [HISSING SOUND] I don’t want this! […] ARCHIVIST: What was I supposed to do? I owed you. Didn’t want to just watch you suffer. […] I’m sorry, the world is… It’s bad all over. I just wanted to spare you what I could. JORDAN: … Yeah. ARCHIVIST: Because… because I owed you.

And Jon helped in a way, made Jordan’s suffering stop, but… on the other hand, Jordan has every right to feel like it isn’t “help” at all, that it was a cruel action replacing an awful situation by another.

Just like with Leto, everything felt like an impossible situation, in which there was no good choice or good action to undertake. Should Jon have asked Jordan whether he wanted to be turned into an avatar, and lay out all the consequences and what it encompassed? Yes; but would Jordan, in the middle of being endlessly swarmed and bitten by the ants, have been in any state to understand and consider it thoughtfully anyway?

Should Jon just have kept going as Martin had initially suggested (without knowing that Jon had another option in mind)? Is it right to leave everyone in hell on their way, to ignore individual suffering when it happens right in front of them, while focusing on the big picture of ultimately saving everyone? Isn’t Jon’s spurt of pity for someone who had helped him in the past (and that he had hurt through his dreams for two years by the time of the Change) understandable, or is it plain favouritism? Meanwhile, doesn’t Jordan have every right to feel upset, given that this person changed his life and existence so drastically and made it another shade of bad without asking him?

Same thing with Jon giving Jordan the choice to be turned back: it’s… just complex for everyone. Jon could do it, it’s an option left to Jordan and Jon is being honest by sharing it with him. It’s the best he could do! … And Jordan’s distrust and disgust is equally understandable: unwillingly, Jon is also making Jordan admit that he would rather hurt than being hurt. But can we blame Jordan for this?

(MAG152) ARCHIVIST: … I’ve been thinking a lot about Jane. She was the first, you know? The first I actually… “encountered” like… [SMALL HUFF] like us. She seemed so… inhuman. Like everything she used to be was… stripped away…! HELEN: And now? ARCHIVIST: … I wonder how much of her was still in there. How much did she choose to be what she was? I read her statement, she was… [SIGH] She was scared. I assumed she’d been possessed completely against her will, but now I’m not even sure that’s possible…! HELEN: It is astounding the sort of things you’re willing to choose, given an unpleasant enough alternative, isn’t it? ARCHIVIST: How much of “willpower” is just… safety. Comfort by another name. The option to choose and be fine.

And, at the same time, wouldn’t the other people trapped in the domain have every right to hate Jordan now that their suffering is procuring him enjoyment?

It was like with Leto: every move, every decision, meant causing hurt, only in a different way. Jon had pointed out in the past that there was “no better”:

(MAG173) ARCHIVIST: There – is – no – “better” anymore. MARTIN: You keep saying that, and I hate it! ARCHIVIST: I keep saying it because it keeps being true, you know that!

(MAG178) ARCHIVIST: No one gets what they deserve. Not in this place. They just get whatever hurts them the most! … Even me.

… and once again demonstrated why.

(With the usual caveat that: Jon’s knowledge and powers are directly given by The Eye, which has already been shown keen on self-preservation with Eric’s tape explaining how to cut one’s ties to it. “There is no better” in Jon’s understanding of the apocalypse: but he’s not fully omniscient, he’s limited by his own point of view and by his own human limitations, and he’s not immune to making assumptions (just like when Daisy was able to hurt him, surprising him). There could still be other alternatives… outside of the box, instead of relying on his Beholding powers, just like Salesa’s camera had been something that Jon hadn’t known anything about before getting an explanation, just like Jon can’t see Georgie&Melanie, just like Jon still can’t see nor know what Annabelle is doing.)

- I am squinting a bit at Jordan describing what he was experiencing as a nightmare from which he couldn’t wake up, since… Jon had mentioned not being able to sleep anymore, back in the cabin:

(MAG161) MARTIN: You should get some sleep. [CREAKING SOUND] ARCHIVIST: I… [SIGH] can’t. I–I–I can’t, I–I don’t think I do anymore… “Sleep”. [EXHALE] How long’s it been, now? MARTIN: I don’t know. It’s not like there are days to count anymore. All the clocks have stopped, and… [DISTANT HOWL] ARCHIVIST: Well, I haven’t yet. I get… tired, but it doesn’t feel the same. [WOODEN CREAKING SOUND] Probably for the best. Sleep doesn’t look… pleasant.

(MAG184) JORDAN: It was… It was a nightmare. And I couldn’t wake up. But this is, uh… I don’t understand…

Is Jon “dreaming” in way, and does he need to wake up, somehow, for everything to stop…?

- I don’t like the contrast between Martin’s and Jon’s description of the current events:

(MAG184) MARTIN: I mean… What can we do, really? You’ve been pretty clear there’s no way for us to help the people who are trapped here as victims so… so we leave him here like all the others, and eventually we save everyone! […] ARCHIVIST: I’ll try to explain. [INTONING] The world is over. Dark powers that feed on fear have transformed everything we know into a twisted hellscape, where humanity is tormented to feed their hunger. We’re all trapped, but I have a certain level of “power” in this new world, so, I– […] I’m sorry, the world is… It’s bad all over. I just wanted to spare you what I could. JORDAN: … Yeah. […] I’d like to be alone. MARTIN: Of course. [BAG JOSTLING] JORDAN: No, wait. I’ll never be alone again, will I? [SILENCE BUT FOR THE ANT SOUNDS] MARTIN: … Come on, Jon. We should just go.

Martin is pretty clear on the fact that he thinks/hopes for a solution… but Jon’s description implied that no, he isn’t believing in anything getting better ever – he’s acting like the current reality will be eternal and won’t ever change. He didn’t even mention to Jordan that they were trying to fix everything, that hopefully, Jordan’s new state wouldn’t last forever because they would manage to turn the world back.

It’s not the first time Jon has acted as if there is no solution, but he had initially left the cabin announcing that he and Martin would “find out” whether it was possible to reverse the Change. Since MAG164, when Jon tried to take a peak at the Entities, it feels like… he has lost all hope in that regard? Does Jon know something that he hasn’t shared, did he deduce it from his Knowing from MAG164, or has he lost hope through lassitude and compassion fatigue…? (Martin! Martin, please, pick up on the fact that Jon’s words, for the last few episodes, are implying that he thinks this world will stay as is! ;;)

- I’m weeping for Jordan understanding parts of his new reality:

(MAG184) JORDAN: Can I at least… go outside? Can I leave these tunnels, the… the ants? Am I… free? ARCHIVIST: You’re part of them now. And they’re a part of you. JORDAN: Oh… […] I’d like to be alone. MARTIN: Of course. [BAG JOSTLING] JORDAN: No, wait. I’ll never be alone again, will I?

Still can’t go outside, still no freedom… And he’s now kinda the “queen” that he was seeking to destroy… he was vainly trying to flee the ants (to be alone!) and is now part of them… and there is still that awful irony of the exterminator becoming an agent of The Corruption…

- Regarding Jon’s powers and what he offered to Jordan:

(MAG184) ARCHIVIST: I don’t know how to answer that. I can put you back if you want. You could become a victim again? Rather than complicit.

* So, he could revert Jordan into a victim… without killing him? That’s interesting considering how Helen had explained what Jon had done to the Not!Them:

(MAG166) HELEN: And so, there are now exactly two roles available in this new world of ours: the watcher, and the watched. Subject, and object. Those who are feared, and those who are afraid. And Jon, well… he is part of The Eye; a very important part. And he’s able to, shall we say… shift its focus. Turn the one into the other. And for those of us whose very existence relies on being feared, well… To be turned into a victim destroys us utterly. And very, very painfully.

Why wouldn’t Jordan – now an avatar, a Watcher – die from being reverted to a victim? Is it because at this point, Jordan had not directly hurt people, or was familiar to their suffering (as a victim himself until a few minutes ago)? Is it because he changed status during the apocalypse, so was “created” as an avatar in the new environment and that changes things? If Jon were to meet him again waaay later, would he still be able to turn Jordan back just fine (like he just offered), or would it destroy Jordan because, by then, Jordan would have fed too much on the suffering? Or is it because it felt right to Jon that Jordan, who hadn’t hurt people and had been good to me, would be able to revert to his previous state without consequences, while in Jon’s mind, previous avatars and monsters were intrinsically linked to the pain they caused, so wouldn’t be able to survive the pain as watched…?

(* … Jon didn’t offer a mercy-kill like he did with Breekon, though ;; I’m glad that he didn’t, but would it have been technically possible…?)

* So, we got Jon turning Watchers into Watched to the point of destroying them (Not!Them, Jude, Jared, Breekon); we now get Jon turning a Watched into a Watcher, and he brought up the possibility of reversing the process once again, non-lethally… So turning someone from Watcher into Watched non-lethally is an available option, and I wonder if we’ll see that one actually happen…

- Although I do understand Jon’s unease about Jordan, I’m worried about his insistence that he “owed” Jordan. It’s… perfectly fine on its own, but it also made me feel like the phrasing and vocabulary of a god…? Because Jon would have plenty of reasons to want to improve Jordan’s situation (or to lessen his pain) without that one, and he had brought up that his motivation to hurt Jude and others had been “revenge”.

Was Jon genuine? Is it a bit of Beholding motivating him (rewarding the ones who had helped him and fed him fears; punishing the ones who had marked him)? … Or is it Jon trying to avoid that he felt guilt? Because Jordan wasn’t always afraid of ants, not initially: he was an exterminator, used to deal with creatures, who happened to brush with the supernatural during his work but hadn’t been terrorised by it. What might have turned the ants into his worst fear might have been… the fact that he gave his statement to Jon and got trapped in his nightmares for two years:

(MAG055) ARCHIVIST: … It’s been months, though. Why are you… just looking to make your statement now? JORDAN: Uh, it’s not really… it’s not just burning her body. I was also the one that was first called in to deal with the nest in her old apartment. ARCHIVIST: Oh… JORDAN: Yeah! But there are a few things I’ve been thinking about, putting some pieces together and I thought, well, you guys should probably know. […] I’ve never really minded. I mean, I guess I could say… killing things is sort of exerting control over them, but I’ve always felt that trying to sanitise my job is somehow a bit… dishonest. Like trying to help people forget that what they’re actually doing is commissioning the death of creatures which we’ve deemed… too disgusting or unhealthy to live. It needs doing, don’t get me wrong, and I’m happy enough to do it. But it isn’t my job to hold people’s hands and make them feel better about it.

(MAG120) ELIAS: “Behind him are the ants. They move like a terrible rolling wave along the hard-packed ground, and he can see every twitching antenna, every clenching mandible. Somewhere, underneath that twitching, burrowing mass, is the exterminator. He is screaming. The Archivist knows he is screaming, can see him screaming, although the sound is lost under the noise of those hundred million ants that crawl and scurry over everything. For a second, a hand breaches the shifting mound, desperately stretched towards the Archivist in supplication, pleading for help. The Archivist watches, as it disappears painfully back into that sea of scrabbling life. Then all at once, the ants are gone, fled in a moment away from the still shuddering form of the exterminator – and a familiar terror finally pushes its way into the Archivist’s heart. […] The exterminator looks to her, then to the Archivist, and it is not certain which he fears more.”

So, in that way, Jon had contributed to turn the ants into Jordan’s worst fear – and that would be reason enough to feel guilt about it, combined with the fact that for two years, Jon had been unable to help him in the nightmares.

- … On the matter of Jon’s dreams, it was noteworthy that at no point at all did Jon mention that he had seen Jordan suffer in them for the past two years. The nightmare zoo is apparently a sore spot for Jon? He had displayed a tendency to… just not talk about them, unless absolutely necessary (and awkwardly!):

(MAG113) ARCHIVIST: I’m not too concerned, to be honest, my dreams are, uh… well, let’s just say I don’t think they’re going be letting anyone else in any time soon. End recording.

(MAG122) BASIRA: How much do you remember? ARCHIVIST: I don’t… Music. Everything was… wrong. Gertrude was there, and then… Dancing – I think? Then… pain. And I was somewhere else. Dreaming. BASIRA: Dreaming. ARCHIVIST: Yes… [PAUSE] You’re… sure, a–about… Tim?

(MAG132) DAISY: I realised you were in my dreams. Reliving t… this. The coffin. You were there. ARCHIVIST: … Yes. DAISY: Didn’t think it was real. Not really… Just my mind putting you there, because I h–hated you but… no.

(MAG136) [SILENCE] ARCHIVIST: … Daisy. DAISY: Mm? ARCHIVIST: It, uh… Hm. Is, uh… Weird question, but… I… [EXHALE] I haven’t seen you in my dreams? The last couple of weeks? DAISY: … Oh, uh, no. I… I work here, now. I figured it seems to protect the others, so… ARCHIVIST: Oh. Right, so… […] So… no more dreams. DAISY: Not of you and your weird eyes. Just the coffin. ARCHIVIST: Is that better…? DAISY: ’T’s mine. ARCHIVIST: … right.

If Martin and Jon are on a journey that is mostly internal, what is Jon’s? Does his guilt regarding his dreams and the pain he directly inflected to live statement-givers (the fact that he fed on their fears, during the act and through his dreams) have to do with it…?

- I’m curious about Jon pointing out that Jordan couldn’t touch them:

(MAG184) [FOOTSTEPS] JORDAN: The ants… If I told them to attack you… could they? ARCHIVIST: … No… Nothing can really touch us anymore.

Since Daisy had been able to (MAG179: “I’m surprised she could hurt you at all…!”

ARCHIVIST: Yes, that… came as a bit of a shock to me as well, actually…! […] I mean, I know it sounds strange but it… it… felt right for Daisy to be able to hurt me.” “Dream logic again?” “Mmm. The… ‘resonances’ from our relationship before the Change carried over and–”). Why was Daisy able to, in the first place? Because of her connection with Jon? Could Melanie&Georgie do it, too…?

Jon sounded SO TIRED at the end of the episode… 

- Martin tried to chirp in here and there, and was clearly peeved about what Jon had done, so I’m guessing they’ll talk about it starting the next episode:

(MAG184) MARTIN: Christ… [BAG JOSTLING] Jon? […] Jon, what are we doing here? […] What does that mean? […] Hang on… […] JORDAN: [QUAVERING] I, I don’t… I, I know you. From the Magnus Institute. What are you d–doing here? What is this? MARTIN: [THIN-LIPPED] Yeah, I’m curious about that myself. […] JORDAN: … Why? MARTIN: Good question. Jon? Care to enlighten us? ARCHIVIST: What was I supposed to do? I owed you. Didn’t want to just watch you suffer. MARTIN: It’s what you’ve been doing for everyone else…! It’s what you’re expecting him to do! […] JORDAN: No, wait. I’ll never be alone again, will I? [SILENCE BUT FOR THE ANT SOUNDS] MARTIN: … Come on, Jon. We should just go.

* (Aaaah for Martin trying to calm Jordan down, hearing his distress, and agreeing that it was a “lot to take in all at once”…)

* I feel like mostly, Martin had been thrown off because Jon hadn’t discussed what he was going to do beforehand? If they had done that, they might have reached the same conclusion, but given how Jon quickly acted, Martin was left to highlight the small hypocrisies (Jon said he couldn’t do anything, before; Jon wanted to do something, but he’s condemning Jordan to watch over his victims without helping them). I do understand Martin’s feelings about that – and also? Jon wielding Beholding powers so impulsively is extremely worrisome, I hope they’ll talk about that bit ;;

* It’s… also contributing to prove to Martin that his black&white dichotomy doesn’t really work in the new world. Since Jordan is now a Watcher feeding from the fear in his domain, since he is now in a technically better place than other victims, is he now entirely blameable? Should Jon smite him? It’s just as uncomfortable as with Callum (and Martin’s own situation, as unknowing Watcher).

- So, interesting that the people who had been trapped in Jon’s dreams weren’t concentrated in one domain, especially since Jon had pointed out that his domain was the-Archives-or-the-Institute-or-the-Panopticon (MAG167: “We all have a domain here, Martin. The place that feeds us.” “Oh. [PAUSE] Where’s yours?” “[MIRTHLESS CHUCKLE] I mean, we’re… traveling towards it.”). In a way, though, the whole world being Beholding’s domain might mean that it’s a bit Jon’s anyway…? I wonder if we’ll meet other old statement-givers on the way to London, then…

- Regarding Martin’s “journey” towards his domain: MAG183 felt Spiral to me, and this one was Corruption, which are two Fears who had victimised Martin too – he had been trapped by Prentiss for two weeks in season 1, he got lost with Tim in Michael’s corridors in season 2. Was it significant? Of other powers that likely left a big impact on him, apart from The Lonely (through Peter), there is The Flesh (Jared’s attack on the Institute when Jon was in a coma), and we already got a second statement for that one… (And perhaps Web because of his affinity for spiders? Vast because he had taken an avatar’s statement? Buried because of his claustrophobia mentioned in S1 + his worry when Jon went down into the Coffin?)

When it comes to the content of his self-journey: it feels to me, more and more, that it might be about his dichotomic view of the world between victims and avatars, his tendency to put the blame on avatars (and Jonah) instead of understanding how this world operates…? As this statement hammered in, there was “no queen”: at this point, I am entirely convinced that erasing Jonah won’t solve anything; he might have caused the apocalypse but his disappearance won’t fix the world. There was a bit of Martin in Jordan’s situation, in the way he had never asked to rule over a domain – yet, was now ruling over one, and was still agreeing that the alternative (being a victim) was worse. Is it about Martin admitting his privilege, accepting responsibility for the hurt he’s benefitting from, even if he’s not directly causing it and didn’t want it to happen in the first place…?

(…………… I mentioned earlier that another configuration induced by Jon’s powers could be to non-lethally turn a Watcher into a Watched, and actually… it could happen with Martin, as a temporary thing? Allowing him to become a victim trapped in his own domain for a bit, to see (and maybe interact) with his victims, learn about them, before being brought back as a Watcher…?)

Next episode’s title is… mmmm. I first thought of Manuela and Helen’s corridors, then of Jess and Karolina… but on the other hand, MAG183’s domain was already the second Spiral domain of this season, and MAG184 had a bit of Buried in it – would we get repeats so soon…? I could also picture End, but we got a second one in MAG180 and that was quite recent too. Title could also work for Agnes/Hill Top Road stuff, if perceived through a Web angle…? For the second meaning, it could mean lore about the world (again), and about Jon’s situation/status…

[zayray030]

3 Times Damian Hated Their Height Difference And 1 Time He Loved It

Summary: Damian hates the height difference between him and Raven but sometimes it might not be so bad.

The height difference between him and Raven never did bother him. Sure sometimes he would be slightly annoyed that she was tall but that's how he felt about literally everyone around him so it didn't count. That's at least until Drake discovered their relationship and had teased him constantly. How Drake had discovered it Damian has yet to find out but he has a suspicion that Logan had told him but he couldn't accuse without solid facts so for now he was stuck not being able to attack anyone.

Anyways, back to Drake. He had made constant height jokes and this time one had struck a nerve.

“So tell me demon, you choose a tall one cause of mommy issues or-” Damian wouldn't have known why Drake would have thought he would date Raven because he had jumped on him before he had a chance.

“Damian! NO!” yelped Dick as he leaped from the couch in the living room and rushed to pry Damian off Tim.

After that incident Drake had stopped making consistent height jokes. Of course he never completely stopped. Sometimes when he was feeling extra spiteful he would make one but he never crossed the line by bringing in Damian's mother.

That was as best as things were going to get.

Damian had decided he wanted to take Raven out to the mall so she could spend the Wayne fortune as she desired for a date. Of course she had protested immediately but he wasn't the son of Bruce Wayne and Talia Al Ghul without a reason. It had taken a little pleading but she had finally allowed it and they were currently in a small cafe, taking a small break.

They were enjoying some cupcakes that Raven had forced him to try when their day went south. A tall, blond guy with bright blue eyes had approached their table, a group of guys behind him, and the look on his face immediately made Damian on edge and when he shot a lazy smirk at Raven Damian had to hold himself from stabbing the imbecile with a fork.

“Hey, baby.” his voice was deep and suited his muscular body. Damian couldn't quite help the jealousy rising.

“Bye, asshole.” she replied immediately after only giving a fraction of a seconds worth of attention before immediately turning back to Damian. Damian felt a flare of happiness go off in his chest but it disappeared when the imbecile still hadn't left.

“Oh come on, baby.” he pouted before he immediately smirked again, leaning over her. Raven leaned back and his face scrunched slightly in anger. “I can show you a good time. Better than whatever thi dweeb is showing you.” he said cruelly, turning to look Damian up and down letting out a slight scoff indignation rose in Damian and before he could attack him he felt a calming presence take and a voice spoke in his mind.

‘Don't worry. I can handle it.’

“I said no. Come on Damian. Let's go. Call your limo driver. We're leaving!” she declared dramatically and he saw the other boy pale. Apparently he had finally realised who Damian was.

Damian didn't say anything. He just picked up the cupcake, called over a waiter, paid for their meal and stood up with Raven. He held out his arm and she took it before practically dragging him away. He could distinctly hear laughter behind them and he ducked his head in shame.

He's supposed to be able to do this. He's supposed to protect Raven. He's supposed to-

“You're not supposed to do anything honey. I love you no matter what.” said his pale lover before leaning down to peck his cheek. Damian didn't say anything. Just leaned into the girl's embrace.

If you accused Damian of using sparring sessions against Garfield he wouldn't deny it. He didn't think he could come up with a convincing enough lie anyway.

This time he was being extra brutal towards Gar and Gar couldn't deny that this time he did deserve it. That didn't mean he wasn't going to complain about it.

“Ow, common dude! I just asked if she- agh!” yelped Gar, barely just ducking away from a knife that was close to taking off his head.

“How dare you!” Damian hissed, anger and embarrassment clear on his face.

“Come on, bro! It was a normal question people ask-” Gar yelped again and jumped away from Damian's sword. He was slowly starting to regret that he had no filter when speaking to the shortest Wayne but he doubted the lesson would stick.

“Don't you dare ask me that again!” hissed Damian, grabbing the front of Gar’s shirt, eyes full of anger and hatred.

“Got it!” squeaked Gar.

Damian quickly got off of Gar before giving him a judging look. “Your form was terrible and if I had been a villian I would have easily been able to kill you. Work better Logan.” he said, scoffing at the end before walking out.

Well that was the last time he was ever going to ask Damian of Raven had ever pegged him.

He couldn't believe it. He couldn't believe that this was happening. If Logan ever found about this he would never hear the end of this.

Those were the thoughts Damian should have been thinking but instead he wondered if the dildo in Ravens hand was going to fit in him.

See, when Raven had noticed her boyfriend on edge she had gone to investigate knowing that he wouldn't tell her himself. In the end after weeks of researching why her boyfriend was on edge she had found out it was because Gar had made a comment about their sexual activities.

Normally, if she had found out he did that she would have stabbed him a million times. But it made her think. And eventually her thinking had led her to buying a strap on.

“Don't worry. It'll fit.” she said, sensing where his thoughts were coming. “If you don't want to do this I-”

“I want this.” he cut her off. He still looked slightly worried but he wasn't lying when he said that he wanted this.

“Good boy. Now, lie down.” she said to Damian. She smirked when she saw him shiver slightly before lying down. She waved her hand and both his and her clothes had vanished, leaving them both as naked as the day they were born.

“Stay still. If you move you won't like the consequences baby boy.” she said huskily.

“Yes, mommy.” he whimpered. Unlike how normally he would hate handing over complete power or control to anyone he was left completely free for Raven.

Raven smirked again before sauntering over to the bedside table and grabbing out a bottle of lube from the drawer. She walked back over to the bed and kneeled over Damian, pale skin contrasting heavily to his darker skin.

“Good boy Damian. Now, continue like this. I don't want you getting hurt honey.” she said.

“He's mommy.”

“Good boy.” she repeated and she saw Damian blushing at the praise. She spread his legs until his small, fluttering pink hole was left in front of her. She couldn't help but admire the twitching gem and brought a hand down to rub at the small opening.

Damian gasped and she could feel the huge effort he was going through as not to buck his hips to meet her fingers. She smiled. He was such a good boy.

She took her hand away and Damian let out a pitiful whine. “Baby. Don't be impatient.” she said sharply.

“Yes mommy.” he said, properly chastised. Raven quickly poured some lube on her hand and she quickly placed her fingers back around Damian's hole.

She took her time fingering him. She would occasionally crook her fingers so she could reach his prostate. Damian continued being a good boy and didn't move as she prepped him.

“You're such a good boy Damian for mommy. Waiting so patiently. Time to give you your reward.” she said.

“Thank you, thank you mommy!” Damian let out a blabbering of thank you’s. He was drooling and cross-eyed from Raven playing around with him while prepping him.

Raven strapped the strap on to her, thankful that she bought one of those dildos that have a vibrater for the person using the strap. Raven lubed up the dildo thoroughly before positioning it in front of Damian's entrance. She looked over at Damian and the only thing she could feel was eagerness. She slowly punched in and Damian let out another loud gasp. If she hadn't been an empath she would have been slightly worried but she could feel how happy Damian was about this.

When Raven finally bottomed out she held still slightly, waiting for Damian to adjust. When she felt him become impatient she started thrusting, failing at hiding a smirk everytime Damian gasped.

Damian was rather disappointed in himself when he came not long after without a hand on his cock but the feeling of shame settled down when Raven came soon after him, rocking into his still sensitive body. He let out a small mewl when she pulled out.

He curled into himself and tried to stop himself from shaking. Raven always made it her mission to make him cum before her and to bring him the highest pleasure.

“You were so good for me, Damian.” she cooed, and Damian felt himself become cleaner and when he finally cracked his eyes open he could no longer  see his semen on his stomach. Raven gathered him in her arms and Damian felt himself relax and he soon went lax against her.

“Thank you, beloved.” he said, finally breaking the silence that had settled into the room.

“Any time baby. Also Damian.” she added, lightly gripping his chin to face her. “No matter what anyone ever says I love you how you are and I never  want you to change because of some outdated rubbish people still believe in, okay.” and it wasn't a question, it was a statement.

“I-” Damian couldn't continue his sentence and just put his face back on her chest.

“It's okay, baby. And anyway, I think you look pretty.” she added.

“Tt. I love you two” he said. “And I like you being taller than I am. Sometimes. When no one makes a comment about it.”

“I love being taller than you as well. Now get some sleep. You're going to need it.”

“How come?”

“I talked to your dad about you feeling insecure about your height.” Damian started trying to twist out of his lover's hold but she was stronger than what she looked. “Don't worry, he doesn't know anything embarrassing. Anyway, he contacted Big Berda and her husband Scott Free. She's going to have a small chat with Gar and Tim tomorrow.”

And in the quiet night, the laugh of two birds could be heard.

[michelles-garden-of-evil]

Ian Martin’s Strange Paradise, Part I: The Top 5 Best Things

SPOILERS FOR LATE MALJARDIN AND BOTH DESMOND HALL ARCS

Hello and welcome again to my Garden of Evil, where this week I’m doing something a little different. Episode 44 having marked the departure of co-creator and original headwriter Ian Martin, we have officially reached the end of an era of Strange Paradise history. No longer will discussions and speculation on Martin’s authorial intent be relevant to the happenings on this show (although I will continue to give my thoughts on the Lost Episode summaries), now that Bob Costello is running the show with a different authorial intent.

Ian Martin’s episodes contrast with the second half of Maljardin in many ways. The pace is slower, the structure and characterizations more like those of a standard soap, and the tone at times borders on comedy. He also appears to have put more thought into the characters’ backstories than any of the other writers, much of which he never got the chance to show on screen. Moreover, of all the show’s writers, he seems to have put the most of his own heart and soul into it, if the death of his first wife six years earlier and his reuse of elements from the series in his later works are any indication.

That brings me to my plans for this week in my Garden of Evil. Before moving on to review Episode 45, I will post my final thoughts on his episodes, first listing what I consider the top five best things about his period headwriting the show. Next, I will make another of the top five worst things about the first 8.8 weeks of Maljardin (because no creative work is perfect). So without further ado, here are (in my not-so-humble opinion) the top five best things about Ian Martin’s Strange Paradise:

5. Clever, memorable dialogue and (sometimes) clever wordplay 

I say “sometimes,” because (as we all know) Jacques loves his puns and Devil jokes, which tend to be as cornball as they come. The (intentional) humor in Ian Martin’s dialogue tends to be hit or miss, but when it hits, it hits harder than the chandelier hit the séance table. Even when the jokes miss, it’s clear that he tried hard to make the show both funny and scary, and some of the worse ones still amuse me in a dad-joke sort of way.

Some jokes from SP that I find genuinely funny:

Jacques: “‘Prisoners’ is such a harsh word, Alison. Now, actually, I prefer the [terminology] ‘detained guests.’“ (Episode 14)

Alison: “I find you and everything you’ve done distasteful and revolting." Jacques: "Methinks the lady doth detest too much." (same)

"I wish my mother was on canvas instead of always on my back.” (Holly, Episode 18)

Dan: "Knowing how much you loved Erica, I can appreciate your display of courage." Jacques: "It was either that or letting myself go to the Devil!" (same)

Jacques: “Such a delightful bedside manner. Why not let her operate?” (Episode 21)

Jacques: “If your room is a prison cell and you are a prisoner, well, I invite you to your last hearty meal.” (same)

Holly: "Would you like to see my scars?" Jacques: "Well, lead us not into temptation...now, that isn't from Shakespeare, is it?" (Episode 25)

Elizabeth: “It seems to be your opportunity to entertain, Reverend. May I suggest Song of Solomon?” (Episode 40)

Also, some things that aren’t jokes per se, but still clever wordplay:

Matt’s name, a reference to the Tarot card The Fool, or Le Mat in French.

Jacques: "Well, Dan, are you going to join me in some kippers this morning, or haven't you finished fishing for the day?" Dan: "Just lowering the line, and I'm afraid you're going to get hooked." (Episode 26)

The whole kippers thing from the same episode.

The scene transition lines.

Two things that Curt pointed out to me a while back: the recurring “little bird” motif and the fact that Jacques, who was “shackled to the Temple” for three centuries was also shackled through the temples with the silver pin. (Thanks!)

Of the later writers, Cornelius Crane (who will write the last two weeks of Maljardin and most of Desmond Hall Arc I) will be the only other to consistently use humor in his SP scripts. His will be a different style of humor, lighter on wordplay and heavier on wit, satire, and snark between characters, in many ways reminiscent of my favorite Dark Shadows writer Violet Welles. While the style of humor in Crane’s episodes has generally aged better, I can’t deny the cleverness and charm in the lines quoted above.

4. A more complex story than later arcs

Compared to all other arcs of the show, early Maljardin has, by far, the most subplots. You have (1) the main plot that revolves around Jean Paul’s attempts to preserve and resurrect Erica, which leads to his desperate attempts to protect the cryonics capsule, Jacques’ freedom and repeated possessions, and Raxl and Quito’s search for the conjure doll and silver pin. Directly connected to this are (2) Jacques’ murder of Dr. Menkin, (3) Alison and Dan’s search for the true cause of Erica’s death and for Dr. Menkin’s missing notes, and (4) the love triangle/square between Dan, Alison, and Jean Paul/Jacques. Then you have the four interconnected plots directly involving Holly, including (5) her romantic pursuit by Matt, Tim, Jacques, and Quito; (6) her conflicts with Elizabeth including direct competition over Jean Paul/Jacques; (7) her torment by Erica’s spirit; and (8) Tim’s subplot about the damned Holly portrait. Then there are (9) the saga of the missing cyanide and (10) the guests’ resistance to Jean Paul’s imprisonment of them on the island. In addition to these, we have (11) the history of Jacques, which may have included innumerable subplots of its own had Ian Martin been allowed to explore it thoroughly. We know that Jacques’ pursuit of Alison and Elizabeth would have connected to this, given their previous incarnations as Rahua and Tarasca, and that Martin originally planned for Tarasca to have her own storyline. If we include the aborted arc about Elizabeth’s possession by Tarasca, that would have made a whopping twelve subplots(!), unless I’m forgetting about something.

For comparison, here are the major subplots from Desmond Hall, during the period when Cornelius Crane did most of the writing: (1) Jean Paul’s possession by the Mark of Death; (2) the coven’s schemes to undermine the Desmond family, which led to the disappearance of Philip Desmond; (3) the Evil Serpent plotline; (4) the Hamlet subplot involving Cort’s conflicts with his mother and dear stepfather; (5) the love triangle of Cort, Holly, and Philip’s ghost; (6) the second love triangle of Ada, Laslo, and Irene; (7) all of Jean Paul’s romantic entanglements; and (8) the attempted possession of his fiancée Helena by Erica. That’s still a lot of intersecting plots, but not quite as many as in early Maljardin.

I know I’ve complained in the past about the recap that makes up about half the dialogue in early Maljardin, but the sheer number of plots may have required it to ensure that returning viewers remembered everything and new viewers weren’t completely lost. I don’t have to like the constant recap, but I must admit that it was probably necessary even for the fans who managed to catch every episode during its original run.

3. Stronger characterizations than under the writers of late Maljardin

Like a traditional soap opera, the first half of the Maljardin arc is character-driven. Most important plot points occur on Mondays and Fridays, leaving the mid-week episodes for (mostly) minor plot points, subplots, and character development. We see Alison’s relationship with Jean Paul evolve from friendly in-laws to potential lovers, only for her to tire of his constant mood changes and withdraw from him. We see Reverend Matt Dawson’s crisis of faith, from his stalking Holly out of an allegedly spiritual love to his questioning his disbelief in demons while trapped on Maljardin. We see Dan lose all respect for Jean Paul as he becomes convinced that his employer murdered Erica and Dr. Menkin. We also see Jean Paul grow increasingly volatile even when Jacques isn’t possessing him, making his prisoners try harder to escape and creating a vicious cycle of repression and paranoia on the island.

After Robert Costello becomes producer, the arc shifts to a more plot-driven narrative. In a span of just four weeks, Erica will be resurrected and proceed to murder most of the characters. Character development will lose its importance in late Maljardin, and the characters of Elizabeth and Holly (and later Jean Paul) will become almost unrecognizable. Although Cornelius Crane was a competent writer who gave strong characterizations to the characters he created, he makes it clear that he didn’t care much for Martin’s creations through how quickly he kills off most of them and alters the personalities of two of the ones left.

2. Actual research

This one is most noticeable in two areas: the scientific subjects discussed and the way that Martin uses the Tarot. Before writing for SP, he worked on The Doctors and The Nurses, both early medical dramas with soap opera elements. Little survives from either The Nurses or the 1960s era of The Doctors[1], but one can imagine that he got into the habit of researching medical topics then--perhaps not including subjects as far-out as cryonics, but maybe some of the others discussed on SP like cellular reconstruction, organ transplants, and eclampsia. Here on SP, he’s referenced specific scientific studies, including Miroslava Pavlović’s study of brain transplants in quail embryos, Kenneth B. Wolfe’s “Effects of Hypothermia on Cerebral Damage Resulting from Cardiac Arrest,” and--most fascinating of all--W. Grey Walter’s robotics article “An Imitation of Life,” whose potential significance to Erica’s backstory I discussed in the final part of my Shadow Over Seventh Heaven review series.

His penchant for research becomes even more obvious when we explore his use of the Tarot and compare it to the way the cards were used on the show’s inspiration Dark Shadows. Despite also having done research on various occult matters--the most obscure being the use of I Ching wands for time travel[2]--DS’s writers were notably lazy in their use of Tarot symbolism, sticking mostly to the Major Arcana, often interpreting their names literally, and using the Tower of Destruction so often that one would think that copies of the Tower comprised half the deck. Not so on SP. Although he did have tarot reader Vangie Abbott use Death literally in Episode 7, and he does portray the Nine of Swords as “the card of death” when it typically means nightmares, suffering because of loss, and inner torment, his use of the Tarot typically shows careful research into the meanings of mostly cards from the Minor Arcana (the suits of wands, cups, swords, and pentacles). He uses it both as a means of giving character profiles and for foreshadowing, although the cards often foreshadow planned events that never took place because of script rewrites.

He did, however, take some artistic liberties with other subjects that he must have researched while writing the serial. I mean to write a detailed analysis someday comparing and contrasting the show’s portrayal of vodou with the reality, but I’m not satisfied with the scanty amount of research that I’ve done so far. I have already written about the Great Serpent and how Raxl appears to syncretize the loa Damballah with the Aztec feathered serpent Quetzalcoatl, but there are other related subjects I want to discuss someday in other posts. The short version: the “voodoo” portrayed on the show is a mixture of elements of genuine Afro-Caribbean religions (worship of a Serpent God, belief in zombies, use of drums in rituals, the titles “Conjure Man” and “Conjure Woman”) and traditional Mesoamerican religious practices (Quetzalcoatl, Aztec human sacrifice, Raxl’s mention of curanderos). The evidence suggests that he picked and chose elements from these traditions for Maljardin’s “Conjure Faith” in a way reminiscent of the real-life phenomenon of religious syncretism. While somewhat problematic, the obscurity of some of the things he picked and chose shows that he must have conducted some research even on these subjects.

1. The best Jacques

Jean Paul Desmond may be the protagonist, but, in the first seven weeks of the show, it’s his devilish ancestor Jacques who truly steals the show. From his evil laugh to his snarky commentary on the happenings on Maljardin to the hilarious and adorable expressions he makes as he plays with his detained guests, there’s no denying that Jacques is the star of Martin’s SP. When he’s absent, the whole show suffers from a lack of his mischief, not to mention that smile that stirs up desires in me that can never be righteously fulfilled. If there’s a Devil, I bet he resembles THE DEVIL JACQUES ELOI DES MONDES in looks, voice, and demeanor--the better to seduce you with (and by you, I mean me). Horns and a pointy tail, after all, don’t tempt half as well as a beautiful black cape and Bissits Face™.

The Jacques of late Maljardin will be a far flatter character, more outwardly evil but less charming and consequently less entertaining. In Desmond Hall, his role will be reduced significantly and he will have very little dialogue, mostly just the same clip of his laughter repeated. He will have a few fun scenes in the second Desmond Hall arc, but the post-Martin Jacques is no devil, just an ordinary man with a slightly different personality, led over to the dark side. This is understandable--the thought of the supernatural embodiment of evil remaining imprisoned for three centuries is quite far-fetched, and Desmond Hall Arc II writer Harding Lemay wasn’t fond of all-evil characters[3]--but I still find the original Jacquet the most fun by far.

That concludes this post on my favorite things about Ian Martin’s Strange Paradise. Stay tuned for my list of some things about his writing that needed improvement.

{ Next: The Top 5 Worst Things -> }

Notes

[1] The Thousand Oaks Library in Thousand Oaks, California has ten of Martin’s scripts from The Doctors from shortly after the series switched from its original experimental anthology format to a traditional continuing soap.

[2] The portrayal of the I Ching as a means of time travel on Dark Shadows almost certainly came from William Seabrook’s book Witchcraft: Its Power in the World Today, where he describes the 49th ko hexagram’s use in a form of past-life regression in New York magick circles in the early 20th century. See Seabrook, “Werewolf in Washington Square,” Witchcraft (New York: Ishi Press, 2015), pp. 164-175.

[3] Harding Lemay, Eight Years in Another World, chap. 3, Kindle edition. In this chapter, Lemay discusses his conflicts with Irna Phillips, the creator of Another World, over how to portray soap opera characters. According to him, Phillips believed that characters should be depicted as either “Saints” or “Sinners,” the only permitted nuance being that female Sinners had to love their children if they had any. Lemay disagreed with such black-and-white characterizations, finding them unrealistic, and made the serial’s characters more morally gray.

[mydeardeath]

Ineluctable (4/4)

This was written almost two years after chaper 3 so it’s not quite the end I had first thought of. Not beta read, so sorry for the mistakes 

                                           ___________

Their search for Damian didn't last long. The following morning his name was all over the newspapers along with the word "Omega" written in capital letter. The title was simple but it was sure to sell. Tim had been stuck in traffic on his way to work when he had seen it. He had stopped in the middle of the road and gotten out, ignoring the cries and the honking to take one of the papers. The fact that Damian's true cast had been discovered was concerning enough on itself but that not what drew Tim's attention. There was more horrifying that Damian's secret being exposed to the whole world.

Ra's had Damian.

The paper showed a picture of Ra's Al Ghul, a "protective" arm slung around his grandson's shoulders. He had presented himself to the Hong Kong's authorities as a concerned grandfather looking out for his omega grandson who was traveling alone with an unmated alpha. Once he had been confirmed that Damian was indeed an Omega he had been put into Ra's care. Cassandra Cain, the unmated alpha that had been traveling with him had been put under arrest to be investigated as well as the whole Wayne family for not only lying about one's cast but also for failing to provide the "protection and education that all Omegas shall receive". Thus, until the investigation was completed, Damian Wayne would remain under his grandfather's care, who had been granted temporary guardianship. 

Ra's told himself appalled by Bruce Wayne's actions and swore he would bring proper care for the Omega. That would cause such a scandal. Bruce and Tim would have to step down from their position in WE. Their funds would probably be blocked during the investigation. But they would need a really good lawyer to win the trial. They were sure they would be one. Ra's had played it smart by making it public. They couldn't just go and retrieve Damian now. Tim felt stupid for not seeing it coming. Of course, Ra's would get involved. This was a golden opportunity.

Tim's hands were clenching hard on the papers and he was brought back to reality by the news-seller yelling at him about reading the papers without buying it. He tossed him a bill and got back into his car. There was no need to go to work today. He needed to get back at the manor before the police came looking for them. It was surprising they hadn't woke then up in the middle of the night. But relations weren't that good between the US and China. Small mercies.

***

Alfred was already opening the door as Tim's car pulled up in front of the Manor. His face was somber. He already knew, had probably heard the news when he was preparing breakfast for the rest of the family. So the others probably knew too.

Alfred led him to the living room. Bruce was standing in a corner of the room while Jason and Dick were sitting on a sofa, close but not quite touching. Dick had come back as soon as he had heard that Damian had disappeared and Jason was soon to follow. As an omega himself, he understood why Damian had kept secret about his cast. People coming from the dead weren't that weird nowadays with all the metas and aliens. Jason could have easily got his identity back. But he would be trapped again, never really free because of his caste. He was far better off with being officially dead.

None of them could hide their worry, not even Bruce. It was his younger son that was concerned after all. And this wasn't anything mission's related. He didn't want to admit it out loud before his sons, but he had doubts. He wasn't sure he could win this. Not his usual way of thinking, but he had no emergency plans for one of his sons being an Omega. He had never thought Damian was one. He was surprised Talia had lied about it. At first, it made sense. She wanted Damian to inherit her father's empire. So she couldn't have him be an Omega. But she could have easily sold him out once he had turned his back on her to stay with her father. She had disowned him. Yet, she remained silent about his true caste. No matter all she had done, she had protected their son from that. So despite all that had happened between them, he felt afraid of what Ra's might do to her for lying to him all of this time. She was not a good person but she didn't deserve to pay for protecting Damian. So Bruce would not only have to make sure that he got Damian back quickly but that Talia was safe as well.

Bruce remained silent for a few minutes after Tim had joined them. He didn't know where to start. He had no plans forming up in his mind. He was unable to come up with anything. He loved Gotham and his country but he knew its flaws. He knew how Omegas were regarded. There had been some progress in people's minds but laws were slow to follow. Omegas still needed a guardian even after hitting 18. They were always under someone's authority, may it be a parent or a mate. And regarding the law, Bruce had failed as a parent.

"So what's the plan, B?" Jason put him out of his thoughts.

Bruce had now the attention of his sons. They all had tried to think of something and were as lost as he was. They looked at him with various ranges of despair, waiting for him to spell out a plan of action. Anything to reassure. To show them that Damian wasn't lost to them, that they would get him back.

"I..." Bruce started, not knowing what to say to them.

At the same moment, Alfred came into the room followed by Jim Gordon.

"Commissioner," Bruce greeted him, straightening suddenly to face the newcomer.

"Misters Wayne," he replied, trying to smile at them but they could see he was tense.

"What bring you here, commissioner ?" Tim asked.

"Damian Wayne," Jim said simply to no one's surprise. "The state has chosen to press charges against your family for housing an undeclared Omega as well as registering said Omega as a Beta in front of the law."

It was clear in his tone that the man didn't like that more than they did. But he did not have any other choice than to enforce the law no matter how bad it was.

"We understand Commissioner, but I would like to point out that as Damian's father that the sole responsibility of..."

"There is no need for that, Bruce. Lying to a representative of the law would bring no good in our current situation."

"Tim..." Bruce tried to interject, no understanding what Tim was getting at.

"Truth is, Commissioner, that Damian is my mate, but as he was ten when he arrived in the family I couldn't bring myself to declare it. I ask them to say nothing until Damian was of age as I did not wish to be tied in this way to a child.”

They all froze at Tim's declaration. They had not expected him to declare Damian as his own. But they all could guess why he had done so. They had all come to the same conclusion: they would lose a trial. Bruce may be Damian's father but Ra's was also family. And he had law and public opinion on his side. Well, maybe that last wasn't entirely true. Omega's right defenders would side with Bruce, but the judges of Gotham were old and conservative folks. That wouldn't win them a trial. The only thing stronger than Ra's claim of guardianship over Damian was a mate claim. Tim claiming Damian as his Omega was the only way of getting him away from Ra's.  So, while they were all trying to think of some kind of plan, Tim had resigned himself to that. He knew it was for the best but he still felt bad for putting Damian in a situation he wouldn't like.

They all still had to follow the commissioner back to the station to give their statements. Well, with the exceptions of Jason, of course. He was still official dead so no charges were pressed against him. He watched them all walk out of the manor, including Alfred. He went straight to the job as the door closed. They all had some knowledge of laws but it wouldn't hurt to get back to the laws about Omega and pack's rights. And it made him felt at least a bit useful and kept him from going crazy while waiting for the others.

***

Damian stared blankly at the wall while Ra's servants busied themself preparing him. He had had no other choice but to follow his grandfather. He had waited until they were out of Hong Kong's authorities' view to try to escape. He was still pretty weak, his heat not quite over even if the worst had passed. But despite his weakened strength, he had put up quite the fight. That's it until his grandfather had pressed his teeth to his neck. Damian had gone slack, trying to put some distance between himself and the teeth.

"Keep fighting and I'll bite. You little Omega slut will be bond to me and you will never be able to be with anyone else." His grandfather had said. Damian had tried to relax his whole body and put his head down to show submission. The idea of being claimed his own grandfather completely disgusted him. He knew that the old man was capable of it. "If you try to escape again, I'll sell you off to the more offering." He had added while finally letting go of Damian.

After that Damian had made no other attempt at escaping. He wouldn't take the risk of being mated. Once you were bitten, your body would accept the person claiming. He had heard many stories of Omega getting claimed and then being stuck with their aggressor. But being claimed didn't force love so the bond often remained one-sided. Sometimes Alpha remained unclaimed but took several Omegas.

Truth is the bond could be broken with time and your body could accept somebody else. But few Omegas managed to get away long enough for that. And even when they managed it, if the claim had been made official then you were fucked. Officially, you would still belong to your first mate and the state would recognize no others (except if said mate was dead since an Omega 'needed' an Alpha to take care of them). Few Alphas would accept an Omega that had been bonded anyway. They would be regarded as outcasts. Most would end up selling their body on the street, the only place that accepted them.

That was not a fate Damian wished to share. So the boy laid still while the servants cleaned him. He didn't even move when they started waxing him. He showed absolutely no reaction when they pampered him to make him look like a "good omega". It went every instinct he had. But he couldn't risk angering his grandfather. He had no doubt that the man was preparing something for him but whatever it was, he was safe for now. Well, as safe as he could be in this place. The only thing he could do now was hope that his father would come to rescue him. He hated having to rely entirely on someone else, to have no control whatsoever over the situation. That's what he had tried to avoid most of his life.

But he could still have some sort of control. Once they had been done taking care of his skin, they had dressed him in traditional, covering most of his body. Unmated Omega shouldn't show too much to preserve their virtue. One of the servants had forgotten a needle, that Damian had discreetly hidden in his sleeve. It wasn't a knife but he could do the job in Damian's hand. Not to attack them and escape. No, there were far too many people and his clothing didn't allow much movement. But if it came to that, he'd rather take his own life than live as someone's bitch. Death would be better than be forever the slave of some Alpha Ra's had chosen for him.

***

Tim was released from the station three hours after they had been brought in. He hadn't seen the others since then. They had all been escorted to different interrogation rooms and the man that had questioned him had refused to tell him anything. The police officer had made a few snide comments about his failure as an Alpha for not mating his Omega. He had not seemed to understand what was the problem of Damian being 10 when they had met. Which was frankly disgusting. He would need to watch that one, Tim imagined he could be involved in some unsavory dealings.

He was escorted to his apartment by another officer, a Beta this time, that didn't utter a word to Tim until they reach their destination and informed him that he was not to leave the state while the investigation was still ongoing and to remain available for further questioning. Tim nodded and left the car under the watchful eyes of the officer. He walked calmly to the front door. Once it had shut behind him, he went straight to his own "cave". He turned on his computer and sent a message to the others, including Steph and Barbara. Less than a minute later, he received a response from the later. She added him to their discussion channel. They were already here. He must have been the last to be released.

"How did your interrogation went, Tim?" Bruce asked

"As well as you can imagine." Tim grimaced. I hadn't gone bad per se. He had said nothing that could compromise them much than they already were. He basically only had to bear their sexist remarks. "They wouldn't tell me what happened to Cass though."

"Cass is well. They're sending her back to America as we speak. Gotham won the right to have the trial even though she was arrested in Hong Kong. She will be authorized to remain with me at the Manor since she doesn't have an apartment of her own ('officially', it went unsaid)," Bruce informed him.

"What about Damian? They didn't tell me more either."

Bruce sighed, "Jim promised he would try to make sure he would be present to the trial. But we don't know if Ra's will aggry to it."

"He will" Tim was sure of it. "He wants his victory to be public. He's enjoying making us watch while we can do nothing."

"We are doing something" Jason spoke up for the first time since Tim had joined in.

"Are we? I don't remember coming up with a plan this morning. And since we all admitted that we lied, the trial will happen shortly from here. We won't have much time to prepare."

"We don't need to prepare. The only thing that will win us the fight is you. You claiming to be Damian's Alpha this morning is the best shot we have."

Tim was about to reply but Jason interrupted him.

"I know. I don't like it either. I'm an Omega, remember? I would never wish to be in Damian's position. But as much as I hate it, it's better than having Damian trap with Ra's." Jason paused. "You can't be much worse than the Alphas Ra's had in mind, Replacement." He joked half-heartedly. Tim gave him a small smile. But it didn't reach his eyes. He was feeling sick. He had still hoped that one of them would come with a better idea but they all remained silent after Jason had said his part.

As there was nothing else they could while they waited, Tim bid them goodbye and turned off his computer. He stared for a while after he had turned black. He was lost with what to do. He couldn't go to WE to distract himself with loads of paperwork and it was far too soon to go patrol. Which they wouldn't probably do for the next days anyway. They couldn't risk getting injured when they were supposed to stay at home and wait for the trial. Jason and Steph would have to do without him until it was over.

Tim was pulled out of his thoughts by his phone. He tried to ignore it but he kept ringing for five minutes straight. As it didn't seem it would stop soon, Tim resolved to take the call. He grimaced when he saw the name but still pressed the button.

"Hey Tam," he greeted her weakly.

"I heard about Damian," she went straight to the point.

"Yeah, it's..." complicated, fucked up? She had met Ra's so she already knew how bad the situation was.

"How are you feeling, Tim?" She asked, unexpectedly. He had thought she would talk about WE. It was her job after all.

"I might throw up soon," he answered honestly. "He's..."

"I'm sure he will be alright, Tim. You've beaten Ra's in the past. You'll do it once more" she tried to encourage him. And he could tell that she really believe it. It was sweet but she was wrong. He wouldn't be able to save Damian this time. But he didn't tell her that. He needed someone optimistic right now. It was refreshing when he felt like his entire world was falling apart. It's not just Damian that would be trapped if he had to claim him. He was the one who had said it, but it meant that he too would need to abandon the idea of finding someone. He wouldn't force a one-sided bond on Damian to go find someone else for himself as other Alphas did. They would be both condemned to never truly mate with anyone. So he kept talking to Tam and let her hopeful words wash over him.

***

Flashes assaulted him as soon as he got at out of the car. Journalists were yelling to try to get his attention, their words unintelligible. He hadn't spoken to anyone in over a week. The servants were not authorized to talk to him and Ra's had not come to see him since the first day. So he had spent the last days locked in a golden cage. He was treated like a prince. He had expected to be locked away in a cell. But the servants and the place they were staying at didn't look like it belonged to the league. Ra's probably wanted people to testify of how good he was treating the Omega and why he should keep taking care of him. Being suddenly crowded by so many people made him feel dizzy. But he took it upon himself to show no sign of distress. He wouldn't give his grandfather the pleasure of seeing him weak.

Ra's escorted him to the courtroom, a hand in his back as if to make sure he wouldn't try to run away. Which would be incredibly stupid in front of the journalists and police officers that had their eyes on him. Stupid and completely useless. Even if he managed to escape, he would be hunted down. He could hide, he didn't doubt that. They would maybe even forget about him in a decade or so. Damian could go live anywhere under a new identity. But Damian wasn't ready to give up his actual life. He was past wanting everyone to know he was the true son of Bruce Wayne. He had actually come to care about the family. Not just his father and Dick. But all of them. He couldn't imagine having to live without them all. Having to live all alone. That's why he had tried to antagonize them. Getting attached was a weakness. And here he was, unable to live them all behind. Ready to be treated like all known Omegas were treated, just to stay with them. He hated himself for that.

Once they entered the room, his eyes fell on his family. Bruce was seated beside Tim and Alfred while Dick was in the next row with Barbara and Cassandra. Steph was not officially part of the family and Jason was still supposed to be dead so they couldn't be there since the trial would happen in closed doors. Damian was thankful that reporters were not allowed inside. It was enough that his secret was now exposed to the whole world, no need to have them present while his fate was decided. They all turned to him when he entered and he could see that his father wanted to cross the room to meet him but they couldn't do that. He tried to smile at them, try to reassure them but he was pretty sure he failed to be convincing. But they were no better. The situation was hard for everyone. Damian wanted nothing more than for it to be over but dreaded what would come to the end at the same time.

Ra's led him to the opposite side of the room where Ra's lawyer was waiting for them. They started speaking to each other in low voices and Damian didn't bother trying to understand what they were saying. The trial would soon begin so whatever they had prepared didn't matter. He just had to hope that his father had thought of something.

Ten minutes after Damian had sitten down, the judge came in and the room fell silent. Ra's side started as they were the accusation. They repeated what they had already told the press about Damian being an Omega and being hidden by his father for years. They showed that Bruce Wayne had declared him to be a Beta and deliberately lied to the state. Ra's brought up evidence of the proper care he could provide for his grandson. None of what was said was a surprise. The only thing that was uncertain was the defense his father would come up with. But instead of his father standing up to talk, it was Tim that came forward. Damian's eyes opened wide. No. That couldn't be it. That wasn't happening. He tensed as soon as the other man started speaking. He could barely hear anything with all the blood rushing to his ear. He fell as if he could not breathe anymore. He knew very well what Tim must be saying. There was only one reason for him to speak up instead of his father. Had Damian been a bit less terrified of Tim claiming him, he could have enjoyed the look on Ra's face. The man had not seen that coming in the slightest. How could he have? Damian knew about Tim but still hadn't expected it to be brought up. He guessed he should have. They didn't have much to go with to win in court.

Damian finally calmed down when he noticed that Tim had stopped speaking. In fact, nobody else was saying anything. Tim was still standing but his eyes were fixed to the door, a look surprise on his face. Damian was as shocked when he turned to see what was happening. He couldn't believe she was here. He had thought she would remain in hiding in fear of Ra's wrath. But no, Talia Al Ghul was standing in the room, her head held high and her eyes unwavering. Damian felt like crying. He had barely spoken to his mother in years and yet she had come for him.

"Sorry to interrupt you like that but I was informed very belatedly of what was happening. Which I find shocking as Damian's mother." Talia spoke strongly, even daring to look right at her father. "I raised Damian in my father's home until he was 10. He presented under my care. I have the document that proved that I was the one to declare his caste. He was my choice and not his father's to do so. In fact, I never informed him of the truth."

"When you are saying your father's home, who are you talking about exactly, Mrs ?"

"I am Talia Al Ghul, daughter of Ra's Al Ghul."

She was convincing. How could she not be when she only said the truth. She had been living at her father's home. He just happened to no really be alive when he had presented. Not that Ra's could tell that to the judge. Plus, her presenting a document that showed she had been the one to declare Damian as a Beta brought up the question of the origin of the document Ra's had shown to the judge to incriminate Bruce. He didn't put him in a good position to have forced said document and lied in court. If the man hadn't intended to track Talia down before, he sure would now. Damian couldn't fathom why she would do such a thing.

The judge asked his mother a few more questions before the jury left the room to deliberate. He saw his father briefly take his mother's hand at the corner of his eyes, showing her his gratitude for going against Ra's to protect Damian. Ra's was throwing them murderous looks, failing to remain cool and hide his reactions.

After only 20 minutes of debate, the jury came back "After deliberation we came to the conclusion that Damian Wayne could not remain in his grandfather's care as we can not be sure of his honesty." Damian felt relieved at that but it was short-lived. "But we cannot either put him back in his mother or father's care as they both failed to bring him the education an Omega needs. We all agreed that he would be better with Timothy Drake, his mate. Once they have claimed each other, Damian Wayne his free to go home." Damian's eyes fell to the floor. He couldn't hold back his tears anymore but didn't want anyone to see. He tensed when hands grabbed him.

"It's me, Damian. Let's go take a little walk while arrangements are made," his mother muttered in his ears.

He let him guide him out of the room. They didn't go far and guards remain not too far from them to make sure they wouldn't flee. They sat down on a bench, his mother's hand still of him. For long they didn't say anything, his mother waiting for him to calm down.

"That's what I had been trying to avoid since you presented. I knew how my father would react. I know how he regards the like of us." She sighed.

"What? What do you mean, the "like of us"?" Damian was looking at his mother as if he was seeing for the first time. Could she be?

"Draw up your own conclusions Damian. I won't confirm anything." His mother had been really great at hiding that part of her. He guessed nobody had ever known (or lived after knowing) that she was an Omega.

"What will do now ?" He asked curious and worried.

"That not for you to worry, you will have enough of your own."

"Why ?" He finally asked what he truly wanted to know.

She looked straight at him "I resented you for choosing your father over me for a long time. But I spent my life fearing what Ra's would do to me if he knew. I have imagined so many things. And imagining you going through that. No, I couldn't do nothing. I guess we both failed to not get attached. But now if you don't mind, I would like to get a headstart on Ra's." He nodded while she got up.

"Mother," he called when she was leaving, "Thank you." And with that, she was gone.

He stayed alone on the bench until Dick came up to him with Barbara. His brother gave him a big hug and for once Damian didn't try to pull him off him but loosened in his arms. His mother's comforting hand had been nice but he had needed more. Dick didn't ask how he felt. He did not need to do that. He knew Damian and he wasn't stupid. He just tried to show Damian that he would be here for him. They were interrupted by the guards. It was time.

***

The ceremony was very formal. They mostly just signed paper. Then comes the bite. It feels weird touching Tim. He had avoided physical contact with Tim as much as possible over the year. The few times they had touched had not been intimate in any way, mostly to tend to injuries. And it's the first time they touch with Damian not wearing sent blockers. He doesn't count the time that brought them here considering he was completely out of it and doesn't remember it clearly. Damian had started trembling when Tim had lowered his head to bring his teeth to his neck and the man had stopped moving. Tim couldn't bring himself to do it when Damian was this distressed. So Damian had brought himself to do it first so it would be over quickly. He had put his hands on Tim's shoulders and the man had tipped his head to bare his neck. Damian didn't let himself time to think and just sank his teeth into the flesh. It barely lasted a second but Damian felt overwhelmed. His body was starting to respond to the Alpha in front of him. He bared his own neck, unable to control it. Tim's bite was just as brief as his own. And yet this act had sealed their union. They had claimed each other. Damian closed his eyes and let the Alpha pheromones washed over him to keep him calm. He didn't want to have a panic attack in front of everyone. Plus he better get used to it. It was his life now.

[awhitehead17]

You Bring Us Together

Tim & Dick & Jason, Magic AU, They all have powers, brotherly Bonding, Humour, Injury, Insecurity, Big brother’s Dick and Jason, Tim over thinks too much. 

Summary: They're family and they're all supposed to look out for one another. It's kind of hard to remember that when all his brothers want to do is kill each other, however when the situation calls for it, they can in fact work together and be a family. It's just unfortunate that one of them gets injured in order for that to happen.

A/N: This is done for ‘AU: Magic’ on my Batfam bingo card.

Also on AO3

Enjoy! :D

“Jason!”

The scream gets Bruce’s attention, causing to look up from the newspaper he was currently reading. He pauses, listening out for more shouts and waits to decide on whether he needs to go and interfere with whatever is going on. He takes a sip of his coffee, ready to go back to the paper

“Stop it asshole!”

He puts the coffee down and sighs. He takes a deep breath and lets it before calling out, “Jason, don’t set your brother on fire!”

Bruce knows exactly what’s happened without even needing to be in the room witnessing it. He knows because he knows his kids. 

“It’s not my fault!” Comes the response. “The little twerp knows to not sneak up on me like that!”

“How was I supposed to know you’d be in this room? I don’t always know where you are!”

“That's a total lie and you know it! You always know.”

Bruce rubs a hand across his forehead, wondering where he went wrong in his life. He loves his kids, he does but sometimes they are a pain in the ass. In the room not too far away he hears a couple more screams and arguments between his middle two sons. One of them had clearly upset the other and now they’re fighting.

Despite what was going on in the room next door, Bruce stays in his seat and ignores the commotion. He’s learnt that sometimes it’s best just to let them fight it out. He’ll check on them and scold them in a bit when things have calmed down.

He was just getting back into reading the paper when he’s joined by another body. Bruce glances sideways as his eldest son comes strolling into the kitchen, picks up an orange from the side before joining him at the table.

Dick wordlessly peels the orange and starts eating the segments, after three he finally speaks up. “So, any reason why you’re in here instead of pulling Jay and Tim apart?”

Bruce hums noncommittedly, “I’ll deal with them in a bit, once they’ve calmed down.”

As if on cue, a loud crashing sound could be heard and another scream. Bruce continues to ignore it in favour of the paper, deciding that it was too early to be dealing with such antics.

Next to him Dick snorts, “Bet you wish you just stopped at one huh?”

Bruce shoots him an amused look with a raised eyebrow in question, “Just one? Most of the time I wished I never started at all.”

Dick looks at him for a moment before pouting, “That was mean.”

He doesn’t give Dick a verbal answer, only a smirk in response and goes back to his paper. He loves all his kids and they all know it, even if he was sometimes bad at showing it. He wouldn’t change his life now for anything else.

It goes silent between the two of them while they do their individual tasks. Bruce sips his coffee and reads the paper while Dick munches on the orange. After a while an audible sigh comes from next to him, “And once again I’m doing your job. You really ought to step up Bruce, you’re lucky I decided to come and visit this weekend. How do you guys all survive without me?”

“We have Alfred.”

Dick pauses from where he was getting up and considers his answer for a moment. He nods in agreement, “Yeah okay, I’ll give you that, but still…”

Bruce watches as his eldest chucks the orange peel in the bin and as he heads out of the room towards where his brothers were still arguing. There was another crash and Bruce lets out another sigh, he wishes he had something stronger than coffee in that moment. Kids. He loves them but they are most certainly a pain in the ass.

----

As Dick heads towards the room his brothers were in, he mentally prepares himself for the onslaught that’s about to come. He stops outside the door, rolls his shoulders back and grabs the fire extinguisher that’s placed outside of the room.

Since Jason developed his powers, they’ve taken to having fire extinguishers in every corridor of the Manor just so they can be on hand as Jason often lost control of his powers, they were helpful in managing the outbreaks.

He walks into the room and finds a scene that was familiar. Tim was crowded on top of the cabinet, shouting curses at Jason who happened to be on the floor shouting back up at him with his hands lit up.

“Come on Timbit! Just come down here I promise I won’t do anything to you.” Jason said after Tim called him something Dick doesn’t want to repeat. Why he doesn’t just teleport away Dick wasn’t sure, unless he’s injured somehow.

Tim’s powers were a little different, unlike Jason who had fire manipulation, Tim had teleportation powers, but if he was injured in anyway then he couldn’t use them. The only explanation for that is because they’re fairly new and Tim was still getting used to them, once he’s older and stronger then he’d be able to do more.

“Fuck off you liar. As soon as I come down, I’m toast. Literally!”

Without even being near his brothers he could feel their emotions and he knew straight up that Jason was planning something harmful to Tim as soon as he touches on the ground. Jason was lying and they all knew it.

His powers were different again, he was an Empath. He has the ability to read someone’s emotion by simply touching them, to a further degree he can manipulate them and a few other things.

“Come down here!” Jason yells, clearly losing his patience now.

Tim doesn’t move from his spot.

“Jason!” Dick calls getting both of their attention. “Put out your hands and let him down. Tim knock it off and get your ass down to the ground.”

Jason’s hands light even more as he turns and glares at Dick, “Oh I see how it is. You come running when he cries for help and makes me look like the bad guy but where were you when I needed help huh? Playing favourites much.”

Dick rolls his eyes, Jason can be so childish and this isn’t the first time they’ve had this argument. Dick sends him an unamused look, he holds the end of the extinguisher up and pointed at Jason, “If you don’t put your hands out I’ll spray you.”

His brother raises an eyebrow, “Wow, such a cold threat Dickie.”

“Just do it.” Tim pipes up his place on top of the cabinet.

There’s a beat or two as both Dick and Jason look at him. Blinking at the teenager who simply stares back and shrugs but doesn’t offer any further comments.

Jason turns back to Dick and lights his hands even more so there were small flames in his palms. “Is this challenge? I will beat your ass and once I beat yours I’ll beat his.”

Dick really wasn’t in the mood to be dealing with his brothers bullshit, or more accurately, Jason’s bullshit. This is the stuff Bruce really needs to sort out, not him.

He gives Jason a deadpan look and says, “No, not really,” before spraying him with the hose.

Dick isn’t going to deny that he didn’t enjoy seeing Jason getting doused with the foam, it was always fun to spray his brother but again he really shouldn’t have to do this. About a minute later he turns off the extinguisher and puts it down to the side before walking over to where Jason was coughing and spluttering. The foam was everywhere and he’d have to apologise to Alfred for the mess but that’s a bridge to cross when they get to it.

While he waits for Jason to get himself together movement catches his eye and he sees Tim starting to climb down from the cabinet. He waits until the teen was on the ground before addressing him, “Don’t even think about it.” He says sternly, halting Tim in his tracks on the way to the door. “Come here.”

He gestures with his hand to Tim who looks at him with wide eyes.

“Tim. Come here.”

The teen reluctantly walks over to him and once he’s in reaching distance he reaches out to grab Tim’s wrist to bring him in close. Dick looks over his brother in concern, “Where are you hurt? And don’t say you’re fine because you aren’t, you would have teleported if you were fine.”

Tim grumbles under his breath but slowly lifts up his t-shirt which was burnt black. Underneath, his pale skin was now a harsh pink colour and looking very sore and Dick winces at seeing it. From where he still had Tim’s wrist in his hand, he could feel his brother’s pain through his powers

Knowing that Tim wouldn’t admit it, he simply says, “That looks sore Timmy, go and see Alfred okay.”

“I’m fine, it isn’t my first burn.” Tim snatches his wrist out of Dick’s grasp and sends a glare in Jason’s direction. “There’s no need to bother Alfred over this.”

Dick rubs a hand tiredly over his face before giving his brother a stern look. “He’d rather you go to him than get some sort of infection or even be in pain. He’ll heal you in under three minutes. Now go.”

They stare at one another for a minute or two. Dick doesn’t back down and eventually Tim relents. He stalks away mumbling unhappily under his breath. Dick watches him go before turning around to face Jason with a disappointed look.

“You could have seriously hurt him you know,”

Jason glares at him, “He startled me. I jumped and reacted in defence and he was in the way. That’s on him, not me.”

“You need to be more careful with your powers.”

“Don’t have a go at me! It’s his fault in the first place for sneaking up on me when he knows he shouldn’t. Why aren’t you having a go at him huh?”

“I’ll have a word with him once Alfred has healed him alright. Just try and be more careful, please.”

Jason narrows his eyes before looking away, quietly and reluctantly agreeing. Again, this is the sort of shit Bruce ought to be dealing with, not him. It probably doesn’t help that they’re all stubborn mules that constantly butt heads but here they all were as a dysfunctional family.

He snorts, “Sometimes this is the reason why I moved cities in the first place, you guys drive me nuts.”

Jason raises an eyebrow, “Oh please, you would be bored if we weren’t here. We keep you on your toes, make things exciting.”

“You certainly do.” he agrees exasperatedly but fondly. No matter what he says he wouldn’t change them for the world. “Now that's been sorted I’m going to go check that Tim actually did go to Alfred and then have a word with him and then one with Bruce while I’m at it.”

 -------

It was halfway through the battle when Tim sees Dick fall to the ground and not get back up again. He knocks the goon he was fighting to the side, whacking him on the head with his staff so he crumples to the ground unconscious before rushing over to Dick’s side. Sliding to his knees, Tim takes in his brother’s form and tries to work out what’s wrong.

“Nightwing? Nightwing!” He scans his brother’s body until he finally sees a small puddle of blood forming at the man’s hip. Being as careful as he can, he maneuverers Dick’s body so he was lying on his back so Tim could see the wound. He tries to not let panic seep in at what he sees.

He raises a shaky hand to his comm, “Nightwing’s down. A bullet wound in the abdominal area, not sure on the severity of it yet but its bleeding profusely. I’m going to try and slow it down.”

He starts getting bandages out of his belt and applying pressure to the wound, he doesn’t know if the bullet is in there or not but a quick glance at Dick’s back, it looks like it went straight through in what was hopefully a clean shot. But something else must have happened for Dick to be knocked unconscious. Tim hopes there wasn’t a head injury to pair up with the bullet wound.

He needs to move him, get him to Alfred who would be able to heal him, but there’s no way Tim would be able to teleport him in this condition. He’s prone to bleeding out before Tim could get them at the cave. Teleporting now would do more harm than good.

“I’m coming Red, don’t do anything ‘til I’m there.” Jason’s voice comes through on his comm and he frowns. What was he going to do beside try to not get shot or let Dick die? He’s not stupid.

What seems like years later, Red Hood was sliding down on Dick’s opposite side. Tim says nothing as he watches the older man do his own examination of the situation.

“I’m going to cauterize the wound, that should hold off the bleeding until you’re able to get him back to the cave.”

Tim blinks up at him behind his mask. “What? Hood, I can’t move him like this! He’s in too of a precious state, it could just end up doing more damage. And I’m not exactly experienced enough to move an unconscious body!”

He was still learning his powers. They hadn’t developed too long ago and Tim was still working out all of the kinks to them. He can barely teleport someone who is conscious let alone someone who is unconscious, he isn’t skilled or powerful enough to achieve that yet!

Opposite him Jason starts tearing away the Nightwing suit to reveal Dick’s bloody and wounded skin. If he wasn’t used to seeing this sort of thing, Tim would have puked. Jason rips his gloves off and lights his hands up, a small flame alive in the middle of his palm.

Tim swallows thickly, knowing what was about to happen wasn’t going to be pretty. He shifts around so he’s pressing Dick’s other side and arm to the floor to try and keep him in place just in case he wakes up and thrashes.

“As soon as I’m done I want you to take him, understand Red?” Tim swallows again and nods in acknowledgement but he refuses to meet Jason’s eyes, or at least the direction of his gaze as his brother was wearing his helmet.

“Red.”

Damn him, Tim thinks. He still refuses to look up, he grits his teeth and says, “Yeah I get it Hood. Just get on with it.”

Understanding what he needs to do is different from actually doing it.

“Right I know what you’re thinking and you’ll be fine, Dick will be fine. Quit thinking with that oversized brain of yours and just focus on getting your ass to the cave along with Dick.”

Tim finally snaps his gaze up, glaring at the man through his mask. “What if I can’t! I don’t know what’ll go wrong with my powers!”

A frustrated sound comes from Jason’s helmet. “Jesus Christ Red, nothing will happen. Do you know where you need to go?”

“How do you know that?”

“Do you know where you need to go?”

“Yes.”

“Then picture it and go there when I tell you to. Don’t think about anything else. Ready?”

Tim grits his teeth again to stop himself from commenting, instead choosing to nod and try to listen to what Jason was telling him. The cave. He needed to go to the cave where the medical bay was. He can picture it, knows the image off by heart. It’s an easy place to teleport too, or should be.

Jason places his hands on Dick’s wound and for a moment nothing happens but then his brother was awake and screaming. His body jerks and thrashes as it tries to get away from the pain but both Jason and Tim hold on, making sure he doesn’t move away from Jason’s hands.  

Then like that it was done, and the lovely smell of burnt flesh hangs in the air. Once again, Tim wants to vomit but he’s able to keep control of his stomach before anything happens. Dick slumps back down on the ground, his body going limp and was breathing heavily, seeming like he’s fallen unconscious again.

“You need to go.” He looks up to find Hood staring at him as he puts his gloves back on, hands clear from any flame or fire. Tim blinks at him, digesting his words. “Red you gotta go.”

“Right, right,” Tim mumbles looking back down at Dick’s body. He grips his brother tightly and wills his powers up. He can do this. He can get them there. To the cave where Alfred was and where the med bay was.

He wills his powers up, letting them wash him as well as Dick and concentrates on the picture of the cave in his mind and powers himself there.

The landing could have gone much better. They sprawl out over the floor in a heap and in a tangle of limbs. Tim squirms away and shoots up looking at their new surroundings, he lets out a cry in relief when he finds that they are in the cave. He did it, he actually did it.

“Red Robin are you alright?” A voice with a British accent speaks out.

Tim turns to find Alfred rushing to them, he gestures to Dick’s limp body, “You need to heal him, quickly, he’s got a wound. Hood cauterized it but it needs proper healing. Please, just help him.”

Alfred doesn’t waste anymore time, he picks Dick off the ground like he weighed nothing and drops him onto the cot. Knowing his brother was now in good hands Tim slumps down to the ground and doesn’t move. A voice comes through his comm, letting him know the battle is more or less wrapped up now.

 About an hour later Alfred tells Tim that Dick will be alright, once he’s had food, got some rest and sleep he’ll be good as new. Tim thanks him and appreciates how lucky they are that they have Alfred and even better that he has the ability to heal people. He’s saved their asses so many times it’s unreal.

Once Tim has showered and had something to eat himself he goes and sits by Dick’s bedside, watching his brother sleep. While today hadn’t been that bad it was still terrifying, it’s never nice when one of them gets injured. Then of course there’s the part with his powers, he had managed to teleport them both with no trouble. That’s great news because it means he’s getting more fine control over them but also now he’s getting stronger.

Tim’s brought out of his head when a hand lands on his shoulder. He jumps and looks around to find Jason grinning at him. The older man moves his hand off his shoulder and ruffles his hair before collapsing into the seat next to him.

“Told you, that you could do it,” he states simply.

Tim snorts and rolls his eyes, “Whatever.” Of course he was ecstatic over that fact, but he wasn’t going to let Jason know that.

“Confidence is key Baby Bird, stop using that too massive of a brain of yours to overthink everything and just get on with things.”

“Only if it was that easy.”

Jason opens his mouth to comment but he gets cuts off by a groan. Their attention moves to the bed as Dick starts to shift and his eyes open to look at them. A dopey grin takes over his face, “Hey guys, how’s it goin’?”

“How do you feel?” Tim asks him instead of answering. Dick blinks tiredly at them and takes a moment to answer.

“Tired, a little achy. I’m fine though.” He pauses as if thinking about something he looks down before looking back up. “Did Alfie work his magic on me?”

Tim nods, “He did. You got shot if you remember, we got you to the cave and he fixed you right up.”

Movement by his hip gets Tim’s attention and he finds Dick’s hand opening and closing, he reaches over to grasp it in both of his, holding it tightly.

“How did you get me to the cave?”

Tim goes to answer but he’s beaten by Jason, who stands up and clamps his hands on his shoulders. “Our little birdie is growing up, he got you to the cave by himself. I had to cauterize the wound with my powers but he got you here to Alfred himself.”

Dick blinks at both of them before another smile crosses his face, “Thank you Timmy. I’m proud of you. I would give you a hug but y’know, not right now.”

Tim shrugs, knocking Jason’s hands off as he does so, “It was nothing. I’m just glad you safe.”

Something else seemed to click in Dick’s mind because he’s giving them both a thoughtful look, “You guys worked together? To help me?”

Tim shoots Jason a confused look, “Uh kind of?”

“I’m so proud of you guys! You can work together, we’re family we all love each other really.”

Tim lets out a chuckle, hearing Jason do the same next to him, “Uh sure Dick.”

“Just this once Dickie,” Jason says, “I ain’t promising there won’t be no more fights after this.”

Dick pouts at hearing that but he seems to resign, “Fine, I’ll take the win while I can. We’ll work on it.”

They both laugh again and let Dick drift off back to sleep. Tim glances at Jason before looking away again, “Uh, thanks for today. It, um, it helped.”

“Not a problem runt. Like I said confidence. Perhaps we could work on it if you like sometime?”

Tim looks back at him with surprise, “Really? Sure if you want to.”

Jason grunts and nods, he stands back up and starts walking away. Tim figures he’s probably had enough feelings for one day. “I’m done for today, talk to you tomorrow about it.”

Tim lets him go without any words, he turns back to Dick’s sleeping body and smiles to himself, feeling stated in a way he wasn’t before. It’s something to look forward to at least, there’ll undoubtedly be hiccups ups along the way but it’s something at least.

[catsupdraw30]

4 Means Sarm Stack, Deca Durabolin O Trembolona

Fluorescently Classified Peptides And Also Amino Acids

Content

Dietary Supplements.

Sorts Of Sarms.

Audio Speaker: Professor Tim Elliot, University Of Southampton.

The Winds Are Altering: Its Time To Attempt Cyclone.

Skin Hydration Capsules.

This lightweight lotion enhances collagen and also elastin production, smoothing away fine lines as well as creases and also raising the skin's all-natural stores of hyaluronic acid. Created by Dr AJ Sturnham this rich moisturiser consists of a proprietary peptide blend which aids enhance collagen manufacturing for stronger, extra supple skin

What does LGD 4033 do?

LGD-4033 is a novel nonsteroidal, oral SARM that binds to androgen receptor with high affinity (Ki of ∼1 nM) and selectivity. In animal models, LGD-4033 has demonstrated anabolic activity in the muscle, anti-resorptive and anabolic activity in bone, and robust selectivity for muscle versus prostate.

Due to this, various safeguarding teams are required, although they are typically based on the benzyl or tert-butyl team. Boc chemistry was very first described in the 1950s and also needs acidic problems for deprotection, while Fmoc, which was not reported for another twenty years, is cleaved under moderate, basic problems. The amino acid N-termini are shielded by teams that are described "temporary" securing teams, because they are reasonably easily gotten rid of to permit peptide bond development. Two commonN-terminal protecting groupsare tert-butoxycarbonyl as well as 9-fluorenylmethoxycarbonyl, and each group has distinctive characteristics that identify their use. Boc requires a reasonably solid acid such as trifluoracetic acid to be removed from the newly added amino acid, while Fmoc is a base-labile securing group that is eliminated with a moderate base such as piperidine. In cell biology, receptor binding or the substrate recognition uniqueness of recently uncovered enzymes can typically be examined using collections of homologous artificial peptides. Artificial peptides can look like naturally happening peptides and work as medicines against cancer and also various other major diseases.

Dietary Supplements.

At the forefront of products scientific research and also engineering, we can also locate peptides, although they do not always show intrinsic bioactivity. In this setting, self-assembling peptides have gained importance for their possible usage as biomimetic structures, such as collagen-like products or parts of synthetic extracellular matrices developed to advertise tissue regeneration. SAP have actually been also discovered as biocompatible vehicles for intracellular delivery of medicines or bio-signaling particles like, as an example, nitric oxide, a powerful vasodilator pertinent in numerous physiological processes.

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Are SARMs injected?

One substantial advantage of even the first-generation SARMs developed to date is that they are all orally active without causing liver damage, whereas most anabolic steroids are not active orally and must be injected, and those anabolic steroids that are orally active tend to cause dose-dependent liver damage, which

Peptides are just one of one of the most talked-about ingredients in the area of anti-ageing skin care. When applied to your skin, they demonstrate exceptional benefits, revitalising your skin and making it more durable and also stronger. But peptides do not possess enchanting buildings, as some brand names assert.

Sorts Of Sarms.

Ultimately, artificial peptides are made use of as requirements and reagents in mass spectrometry -based applications. Artificial peptides play a main function in MS-based discovery, characterization and also quantitation of healthy proteins, specifically those that act as very early biomarkers for diseases. Peptides are used to prepare epitope-specific antibodies, map antibody epitopes and also enzyme binding sites and also to develop unique enzymes, drugs as well as vaccinations. While peptide synthesis made use of to be labor-intensive and generate low yields, enhanced methods of production as well as peptide chemistry have actually made peptide synthesis a lot more readily available for general study applications. Whatever the worry, more than likely, there's a peptide for that.

Best SARMs For Building Muscle & Losing Fat - - VENTS Magazine

Best SARMs For Building Muscle & Losing Fat -.

Posted: Mon, 09 Mar 2020 07:00:00 GMT [source]

You can pick something plumping, brightening, moisturizing-- or all three, if you expensive. Peptides frequently locate it challenging to reach where they require to be; they are large as well as disapproval being around oil so they struggle to fit through the tiny, oil-based spaces between skin cells. Our 30% peptide blend consists of an innovative shipment system which ensures that all our peptides can dive deep right into the reduced layers of the skin for ideal result. As the light-weight serum is rubbed into the skin, the 30% peptide complicated begins its multi-faceted method to rejuvenating the skin. Collagen and also elastin production is improved, fine lines as well as wrinkles are smoothed as well as the skin's all-natural stores ofhyaluronic acid rise.

centrally manage sarms liquid online - pharmagrade.store : Teacher Tim Elliot, College Of Southampton.

The fact is that there is no single ingredient that will deal with all the indicators of skin aging - as well as peptides are no exception. Peptides are a fantastic possession to your skin, however it's best to be reasonable in your expectations to prevent disappointment.

Here's where to buy SARMS body building supplements in our on-line store.

https://pharmagrade.store/product-category/tb500/ have been established to be able to separate out the types results and also produce just the desirable ones.

For sport people this would usually suggest the capability to keep or grow muscular tissue mass without the undesirable side effects as well as without any water retention or fat gain.

These "Careful Androgen Receptor Modulators" work by enhancing androgen levels in the body which results in big rises in performance and also recuperation.

They are also created to be able to be taken by mouth instead of by injection, that makes them simpler medications to utilize.

Figure out moreSARMs UK supplements are an exciting course of supplements which function as choices to prohormones for those seeking something more powerful than an all-natural testosterone booster.

Any terrific anti-ageing skin care routine should have a healthy and balanced mix of skin-replenishing components, anti-oxidants, and various other a healthy and balanced dose of various other anti-ageing components as well as the most effective ones do. A faster route to brightness is to try an at-home peel, which will restore skin, efficiently scrubing to eliminate boring, dead skin cells and also exposing more youthful, plumper skin. We like Natura Bissē Glyco Extreme Peel which combines the exfoliating properties of glycolic acid as well as AHAs with restorative, firming as well as lightening up peptides for glowing skin. There are two variations of this, the initial works when inhibitor peptides are applied to skin as well as communicate to our cells to inhibit the process that breaks down collagen, which essentially quits our skin from noticeably aging. The 2nd kind works by inhibiting nerve signals, to make sure that our facial muscular tissues are incapable to move so effectively, and thus the fine lines that are developed by this activity can be prevented. When used topically to the skin, peptides act as little messengers, setting off skin cells to carry out particular features such as constructing collagen and elastin, urging skin. to look and also act younger.

The Winds Are Transforming: Its Time To Try Cyclone.

The last concentration of acetic acid or ammonia/ammonium bicarbonate allowable will certainly be determined by the use to which the peptide is to be finally placed. If the peptide still refuses to liquify, these unstable buffer systems may be removed by lyophilisation as well as different solvents tried out the same peptide sample. The continuing to be N-terminal protecting teams, all side-chain shielding groups and also the C-terminal shielding group or strong support are removed by strong acid therapy after peptide synthesis is completed.

SARM responds to Speech from the Throne - Farms.com

SARM responds to Speech from the Throne.

Posted: Fri, 04 Dec 2020 08:00:00 GMT [source]

The act of removing shielding teams, particularly under acidic problems, causes the manufacturing of cationic species that can alkylate the useful teams on the peptide chain. For that reason, scavengerssuch as water, anisol or thiol derivatives can be added in excess during the deprotection step to respond with any one of these complimentary reactive varieties. Amino acid side chains represent a wide variety of practical teams and also are for that reason a site of significant side chain sensitivity throughout peptide synthesis.

Peptides have outstanding benefits for skin yet the outcomes will certainly never coincide as an aesthetic treatment. All peptides purchased from us are manufactured by us in our laboratories.

If the peptide continues to be Insoluble, consider Its amino acid make-up prior to continuing better. What proportion of amino acids are hydrophobic as well as the amount of residues are positively billed or negatively charged? If there is a net charge at neutral pH, enhancement of dilute acetic acid or weaken aqueous ammonia or ammonium bicarbonate with more sonication should greatly aid solubility.

N2 - Therapeutic proteins as well as peptides have been determined as showing great assurance for the therapy of mind cancers as well as neurodegenerative illness. Restorative healthy proteins and peptides have been recognized as revealing excellent pledge for the treatment of mind cancers as well as neurodegenerative illness. Perfect for menopausal skin, this super-hydrating, moisturiser is rich in phytoestrogens, peptides and healthy proteins, every one of which collaborate to enhance skin's flexibility and also reduce the signs of hormone aging.

The fibrous nonwoven supplied a structurally robust scaffold, with the capacity to control SAP release behavior. As much as 75% of P11-4 and also 45% of P11-8 were preserved in the fibres after 7-day incubation in liquid solution at pH 7.4. The encapsulation of SAP in a nonwoven system with apatite-forming as well as localized and also lasting SAP distribution abilities is appealing as a prospective ways of achieving economical bone repair work therapy for important size flaws. N2 - Cell-free translational methods are needed to speed up the fixing of mineralised cells, particularly big bone defects, using minimally invasive approaches. Cell-free translational techniques are needed to increase the repair of mineralised tissues, specifically large bone defects, utilizing minimally invasive strategies. According to Gomes, the following action to make Portugal truly competitive in Peptide Scientific research, by drawing in commercial companions working on or with peptides, is a large manufacturing system.

Locate your ideal peptide product to improve your CSA skincare routine; integrating anti-ageing with your details skin requirements. We like to maintain things simple here at Medik8, producing one of the most efficient yet reliable items we can.

Additionally, you can increase your skin's natural brightness with one of our most ingenious formulas; Clarity Peptides. Infused with 10% niacinamide, it works marvels for noticeably relaxing red, swollen or blemish-prone skin. This milky lotion promotes glass-like skin when you need it one of the most, optimal for anyone who feels like life is getting in the way of best skin. The formula includes next-generation Crystalide ™ peptides, which assist to tidy up the skin's waste healthy proteins to advertise a crystal clear skin tone. Quality Peptides is a perfect option to BHAs for tackling blemish-prone skin, especially for sensitive skins. Although peptides are an exciting improvement in skincare they have constraints.

AB - Cell-free translational approaches are required to increase the fixing of mineralised cells, specifically huge bone problems, making use of minimally invasive approaches. Regenerative bone scaffolds need to preferably imitate aspects of the cells's ECM over numerous length ranges as well as enable surgical handling and also addiction throughout implantation in vivo. Both variants of SAP-enriched nonwoven used in this study were shown to be biocompatible with murine fibroblasts and also sustained nucleation as well as development of apatite minerals in simulated body fluid artificial insemination.