aster / he (tme) / 28 / mixed afro-indigenous / au-dhd dissociative system / physically disabled, medically complex, and severely chronically ill / fandom blog / currently on my batfam bullshit / icon by @lostpimplepatch!
hi, welcome to our fandom blog! we are aster & co, lux, or the asterism! you can take your pick on what to call us āŗļø
some info about us:
āØ we're a mentally ill, physically disabled, & developmentally disabled (au-dhd + several learning disabilities) did system! we talk about disability and disabled headcanons a Lot! it's very important to us š
āØ we're afro-indigenous (lightskinned). we talk about race often on here, mostly under the context of headcanons and our experiece of being a poc in fandom.
āØ body is 28! that being said, we have several younger parts and might act younger because of it sometimes.
āØ we are transmisogyny exempt, or tme! we use he/him collectively. if a specific part wants to distinguish themself on here, go with whatever pronouns they list!
āØ we have a lot of different fandom interests. right now, our main fandoms include:
dc (specifically batman, batfam, & captain marvel, though we have a little bit of knowledge about a lot of different dc characters!)
danny phantom (we are mostly into dp/dc crossover stuff these days)
moon knight (both the comics and the mcu show, though we are highly critical of the mcu in general. we have read very few comics because our brain doesn't process the medium well, but we are currently slowly working our way into the spidey/moon knight teamups as a starting point!)
spider-man (multiple mediums! again, though, we don't read comics much. right now we're writing about mcu spider-man, though as we said earlier we've got a lot of issues with mcu as a whole - its just a bit more accessible than the comics at the moment. we love spiderverse too though!)
the owl house (interest for this is simmering in the background right now but it was a major hyperfixation for quite awhile!)
wednesday (also simmering in the background. we don't think about it much lately but we were writing a time travel fix-it about it that we want to get back to!)
there will be other fandoms on here too but they'll probably only be posted about in passing!
we consume all of our interests critically & we do talk about those criticisms quite often. if you have a problem with that, this probably isn't the place for you.
DO NOT INTERACT IF:
āØ you're a dsmp fan
āØ you identify as a map/nomap, are pro-ship, or glorify/condone abusive, pedophilic, or incestuous ships. discussing/examing these dynamics from a critical lens is one thing but it is another thing entirely to glorify and/or sexualize them. do not follow if you are an adult who reads/writes "smut" about child characters either. that's nasty af and we don't want you here!
āØ you're a white person who kins characters of color. we have had some really traumatizing experiences with people who do this and just would rather not interact.
āØ you're a system who has alters who identify out of race, ability, or transmisogyny status. we recognize that you can't control how parts are formed and who they are formed based off of, but we also know from experience that it is possible to work on minimizing harm in these situations by working with these parts regarding self-identification and internal appearance.
okay, that's it for now! bye! hope y'all enjoy our blog :)
Do you think that Bruce sometimes pulls the āmy parents are deadā card? Yes, I get that it was a traumatic and formative event for him but it would also sort of be funny, especially if heās doing it ironically.
Some socialite telling him that he canāt bring his kids to events, asking what his mother would have said and Bruce deadpans and goes, āI think she would have liked to have met her grandchildren. But of course, she never didā
His med school lecturers threatening to flunk him if he doesnāt hand in his essay on blood loss, only for Bruce to say āitās just a touchy subject for meā and the lecturer blue screening because shit
Some rogue tries to kidnap Bruce at some event, holding a gun to his head, just for Bruce to look at the rogue, almost tearfully and be like āi always knew I would end up like my dadā and the rogue just panics because now they are in a room with a bunch of pissed off people because theyāve almost made the Princess Diana of Gotham cry.
Clark gets mad at him over something, yelling at him and of course Bruce is just no listening so Clark just snaps, Ma Kentās favourite phrase of āwho raised you???ā Only to completely fucking choke, pray for the ground to swallow him up because Bruceās expression just slips a little (inside heās hysterically laughing). Clark comes by again with a batch of cookies.
He can't obviously use it on the kids and they can't use it on him.
and see now sometimes ppl are skeptical about Every Character In A Friend Group Being Autistic but from experience autistic ppl tend to flock together. like i don't think i have any friends who AREN'T autistic at the moment - or at least ones i talk to regularly / am close to. we just tend to gravitate towards each other even at different support levels and with different access needs
Tim looks up from his laptop. The boy in front of him looks like he's been dragged to Hell a week ago and just made it back: smudges of soot on his face, his not-so-white t-shirt smelling of smoke, and a nasty looking burn on his hand that he somehow doesn't even pay attention to. Tim thinks back to his mental list of 'Rogues currently on the loose', but it's only Ivy and Harley (who don't even count anymore), and Penguin, who is not known for setting things on fire.
"I can call 911 for you, if you want?" He offers, because this is still Gotham. Despite the fact that a slightly scorched guy casually walking into a coffee shop is not something out of the ordinary here, he's not giving his phone to strangers.
The guy grimaces and starts aggressively rummaging through his pockets.
"No, thanks, ACAB and all that, and they won't do shit here anyway," he says, and then pulls a handful of tangled golden jewelry ā rings, chains, necklaces with various gems in them ā from his pocket and places it on the table in front of Tim. "I need your phone," he repeats.
Tim stares. First, at the gold ā these things look antique, and his parents were archeologists, he knows what he's talking about ā then, back at the guy. He looks... ordinary, sans the dirt and smell.
But the burn on his hand looks significantly more healed than it did just a minute ago.
Thankfully, Tim has already had his cup of morning coffee. Which means he is thinking very rationally when he does get his phone out of his pocket and hands it to the guy, just to see what he does next.
"Thanks," the guy grins at him, plucking the phone out of Tim's hand and unlocking it. Tim's eyebrows shoot up ā there's a password there! ā but the stranger is already dialing in a number and pressing the phone to his ear.
It takes less than a second before someone evidently picks up, and the guy starts talking.
"I have less than three minutes before the phone dies, so listen very carefully. Etrigan is fine, Jason is not, Klarion is still being a bitch. Dora won't help anymore, so you're on your own until Sam makes it there with the staff. I'm in Gotham because, apparently, mazes and I don't mix well together, so if you could summon me back, that'd be cool," he says, a look of mild annoyance on his face.
Tim is back to staring at him. He recognizes some of the names, and, well, one could have been an oddity, two a coincidence, but three is a pattern.
"The fuck you mean you can't, I gave you the incantation two months ago!" The guy raises his voice, his foot tapping on the floor in frustration. "Do you think I just go around giving my summons to people for shits and giggles? Like, yeah, have a spell that unleashes a cosmic being of immeasurable power, use it as a bookmark!"
This interaction, despite Tim only hearing one side of it, gets more and more alarming with every word.
But then, the boy suddenly straightens up and stills, his eyes flashing bright, unpleasantly familiar green.
"You what?" He asks, his voice slipping from just angry to quietly enraged hiss, "Sold it to whom?!" But, before he gets an answer, Tim's phone makes a thin, tiny buzzing sound, and the guy takes it off his ear, looking at the screen.
"No, no-no-no," he mutters, shaking it like that would make it work. To no avail, though: the phone screen flashes a few times and goes black. The guy curses. At least Tim thinks it's a curse because he doesn't understand a word, but the stranger's face and intonation are telling.
"Useless fucking moron of a human, I swear I'm going to drown you in cow shit once this is over," he switches to English, dropping the phone on the table right by the small pile of gold, "I'll bargain your pathetic soul from everyone you've ever dealt with and give it to the Observants, and maybe, after a few millenia of endless Council paperwork, I'll have mercy and sell it back to Lucifer and watch him fry you on a skillet."
...Whoever the boy is, Tim absolutely refuses to ever piss him off, okay. That's an impressive threat to even make, not to mention being able to go through with it.
"Do you need help?" He asks cautiously. If he is getting his context clues right, this is something that involves JLD, and maybe John Constantine specifically since Tim doesn't know any other man who is a magic user, sold his soul numerous times, would care about Etrigan's wellbeing, and could invoke this kind of murderous intent.
The boy looks back at him, his eyes back to normal blue.
"Huh? Oh, no, I doubt this can be helped," he waves Tim off and pinches the bridge of his nose, "Sorry about the phone, but, unless you have a way to yeet me across the globe so I end up in London in the next twenty minutes..." he shrugs, smiling in that helpless 'nothing you can do here' way.
Tim picks up his phone. It's dead, wholly and completely, won't even turn on when he tries.
He really, really shouldn't do that. This is definitely none of his business, and very much out of his capabilities and area of expertise.
But he thinks about the zeta-tube in the Cave.
"Actually," he says, and the guy's eyes snap back to him, a bewildered sort of surprise on his face.
Love seeing fanart of scrawny black haired blue eyed kids in red hoodies every time I try to guess if it's Jason Todd or Billy Batson without looking at the tags and every time I'm wrong
He was supposed to get a retro, jungle themed Guns and Roses shirt, but alas, I got lazy. I didn't finish designing it...or coloring it. I just made the line-art purple and called it a day. I do plan to design the shirt properly next time tho.
As always, inspired by the incomparable Gabriel Picolo
Somewhere in Gotham post War Games and Infinite Crisis thereās a TikTok with a bunch of 90ās skater clothes found at a thrift shop captioned āwho took his sparkleā (itās Tim Drakeās entire wardrobe in some random goodwill)
