#something that is normal to want and reasonable to achieve

[leffee]

More tf2 screenshots yipee

I mean- yeah. Yeah. I'm a Heavy simp for a reason :}}}z

I met the seal! I thought she was gone or something but it turned out she's just in an alternative mode that no one plays lol

After a run of terrible matches I've had enough of alll this and decided to just relax and this enemy Engie found me and joined me (as well as Spy)

Regular normal MvM match

Regular normal MvM match for Engineers (we basically have to do nothing)

👍

Something about Pyros killing me but at least being nice about it lol

He looks absolutely disgusted

Once again being completely done with it all Engineer decided to not help his team that match and just chill

Ok, I had such a silly intel capture. "Was it on 2fort?", I hear you asking. Well yes and no. On 2fort invasion. Anyway.

I was playing as Heavy because I wanted that one achievement to kill people who are carrying intel as Heavy. So I was waiting near our one but no one was coming so eventually when I got bored I decided "Fine, Heavy will cap." So I called a Medic and we set off together. And then! Enemy Medic jumpscare! He was running away, terrified! Not from us though. But when I saw him and his escape I decided we'll take him with us. I kept screaming "Medic!" at him until he came closer. He didn't eat my sandwich of peace but that's ok. He had full health. Still, he undrestood the message behind it.

And so we went together. Heavy and his 2 Medics, one from the enemy team. At some point my Medic was gone (I think he got killed but I genuinely can't remember). So now just 2 of us got together close to the intel room when I said "Sentry ahead" you know, as a question. RED Medic understood perfectly, ran into the room "Nein!" I hear, so I got in, I take the intel, we go back together

On our way we met RED Pyro who saw us and moved by our forbidden bond joined it. So now it was RED Pyro on the front, BLU Heavy in the middle with intel, and RED Medic at the end, all with the purpose to deliver the briefcase. Pyro even checked if it was save near REDs respawn, and it was. But then! Suddenly in one spot so many of my team and before I could stop them they killed my RED friends... Full of anger and disdain I told them in chat to not do it again or no intel.

They nodded and looked ashamed of themselves... rightfully so. Still, we had a mission. All of them ran obediently after me to the intel room. And that's how we won that day... truly a capture to remember.

[blackcatxmagic]

Jinhwan had a nice way of way of looking at the world, and it was honestly refreshing. So many people back in NYC were cynical and jaded, but here in Cardinal Hill, people seemed to have more hope. Maybe they were still looking for something they were missing, but they had hope of finding it. Griffin wished he could be more like that, but he felt like his mindset was still back in the city. "Maybe you're right," Griffin admitted. "Truthfully I think I could probably use some therapy too, but - and I know this might shock you - that's not really my style either. Therapy doesn't do much good if you aren't going to open up." Griffin knew this for a fact - he had tried it before. Maybe you need to try harder, he thought, but the truth was that Griffin didn't want to open that box inside of him, the one he kept all his dark thoughts and feelings and memories; he had learned something from the story of Pandora, and Griffin would keep that box firmly closed.

Looking back at the register again, Griffin laughed, saying, "Yeah, it's an asshole, clearly. I'm glad we're both anti-cash register. This might get awkward otherwise." As they talked about his color palate and about flowers, Griffin explained, "Warm colors make you feel content and safe and...well, warm. But cold colors, they're harsher. They feel uncomfortable sometimes, even when they're beautiful. When I'm painting, I don't want to feel content. I mean, that's the whole reason I'm painting, to get to that enlightened, blissful state of being. And part of that is the journey to find a way out of the cold." This wasn't something Grififn would have normally explained to a non-artist, but he reminded himself that Jinhwan was an artist - Griffin had meant what he said. But it seemed like Griffin could use some work with the delivery of such sentiments because Jinhwan seemed upset now. Had he said something wrong? "I think the hard work and care you put into every arrangement is your way of adding beauty to the world," Griffin replied. "And I think the world needs more of that. Fuck the ones who think it's 'just flowers.' They're just ignorant."

Clearly Jinhwan was trying to make Griffin feel better, and he appreciated it, but he didn't quite agree. "He used to," Griffin told the other man. "I know he did. I think back on memories, and I know he saw me...that he loved me. But it wasn't enough." It was a sobering truth, that love might not be a powerful enough force to overcome any obstacle. Shrugging, Griffin tried to play it off, saying, "It's alright. I needed to come here, and he needed to stay back where his whole life was. It was selfish of me to even ask him to come." He hadn't meant to reveal that he'd asked, but it had slipped out; Griffin was not going to tell Jinhwan tha the had literally begged though. That would remain a secret.

"I know that black roses aren't natural colors of roses," Griffin said. "I know they don't grow that way. It would be cool if they did though." Griffin had no idea that Jinhwan was thinking of using witchcraft to achieve such a thing, though he wouldn't have been surprised to find out the other man was a witch too - Jinhwan seemed to have a kind of power emanating off of him, but Griffin knew that didn't always mean magic. "I didn't say that because you're a florist," Griffin replied. "I said it because of how you see the world. Even when it's sad, I think you feel like you have hope. Not everyone does. So that's why I picked sunflowers."

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ When Griffin admitted he wasn’t normally a sharer, Jinhwan gave a small, gentle nod. “That’s okay. I think... the right people make it feel safer, even if just a little. You don’t have to pour out the whole bottle. Sometimes just opening the lid a bit is enough.” At the register comment, Jinhwan’s eyes widened slightly, then crinkled with a laugh. “Well, I’ll hope for the best. It’s hard to believe that the register would be so cruel to you.” 

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Jinhwan nodded as Griffin explained that he was using a cold palette, already beginning to picture it—shades of blue and indigo, maybe steel, black. “That feels honest,” he murmured. “Not everything needs to be bright to be beautiful. What matters is that it’s real.” His fingers curled around the strap of his bag, mind already turning over which flowers might speak to those tones. “I’ll find something that fits alongside it–not to fix or soften it, just… to keep it company.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Then Griffin defended his craft, and the words landed deeper than Jinhwan expected. He blinked a few times, his mouth parting slightly in surprise before a soft, grateful smile took over. “Thank you,” he said, quiet and a little choked up. “People say it like it’s just flowers, just arrangements. But… It's the language I speak best. And it means a lot that you see it.” He hadn't expected to feel such a sudden surge of emotions, but it was difficult to think about the fact that this man whom he’d just met was more welcoming and kind than his own father.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ He looked at Griffin carefully, wanting to offer something—but not wanting to overstep. Still, the words tugged at him. He reached out just slightly, fingers resting against the other’s arm for a moment before falling back down. “Maybe he didn’t know how to see you properly,” he said softly. “That’s not your fault.” Jinhwan wasn’t one to make assumptions, and hoped that the other wouldn’t feel upset with him for saying something. Then came the part about the black roses. Jinhwan’s expression shifted, first surprised, then thoughtful. “That does make sense. Black roses are beautiful—they’re full of meaning, but quiet about it. Like a secret you keep close to your heart.” He smiled again, eyes soft. Black roses didn’t typically appear naturally in nature, but… well, Jinhwan was a Witch. He could make it happen.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ He ducked his head bashfully at the sunflower comment, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “Sunflowers?” he laughed. “Maybe that’s how I come off. But I don’t always feel sunny. I think... people assume florists are always cheerful. But sometimes we work with mourning arrangements more than bridal ones.” Still, he looked up again, meeting Griffin’s eyes. “It’s nice to be seen, though. I appreciate that.”

[alvie-pines]

i know study is part of the conversion process, but i also want to do my own studying before beginning conversion... i am Interested and a bitch likes to be Prepared, alright?

[mayhaps-a-blog]

I do love Murderbot's complete failure to articulate itself in a comforting manner XD Or rather, I love that it tries - it's consciously trying to comfort its clients, and just... doesn't have the toolbox for it.

Which leads to moments like the end of episode 8 where it strides in and announces "I have a plan!" only to see everyone jump and cower at its sudden appearance, so it backpedals and tries again, but... doesn't know what to do, so just ends up going "I have... a plan..." like it got partway through "oops, gotta say this better" and then realized it didn't actually have a way to do that and just ended up repeating itself but like, slightly quieter.

Or episode 7, when it's trying to get them to the hopper and goes for a "softer approach" (helmet down, like they keep asking, emphasize the danger) only to immediately lose track of its expression and tone and only catch up to having threatened them after the words are out. And then backpedaling again to clarify that it meant the bad guys...

Like, it's clearly trying SO HARD to get its clients through this mess intact and also feeling safe! With Murderbot! Because it's their SecUnit, and it wants to help, but more than that, it wants them to not be afraid of it (obviously ONLY because scared people are more likely to do something stupid, not because Murderbot's formed some kind of - bleh - emotional connection to them). But it just. Doesn't know what to say.

So it tries anyway and that just translates to it being so awkward and I love it.

[ancient-art-of-craft]

I go to a crafting faire. I see a stand with knitwork. I approach. To prove I am not like the other plebians, I flip it over.

I compliment the floats. I ask if they blocked it.

The woman is suitably impressed. She sees I am like her. We talk about the wool blend for a couple of minutes, and I buy nothing.

[offdxty]

A lot of communication, many words and syllables being offered, exchanged, thoughts happening and thoughts provoked, the possibility of feeling, of existence rising; Time has passed ever since Dr. Harrow had first entered this room and taken a seat on the floor - moments in which questions had been asked, answers given, information shared which Kane himself had taken, consumed, added to his own self. He now knows he's thinking, even though he'd always been aware of the concept, but it's grown into a fact - he considers he might be feeling as well, something he did before, but didn't really do, but Kane did, but Kane did not.

He even thought about emotions for a moment there. Maybe he is experiencing them, even though he doesn't know whether he is. Of course he's familiar with the concept of emotions - they're part of a human being, after all, of Kane - but theory seems to differ a lot from what happens during execution. He knows and he does not know, information is missing.

And now Kane is here still, and they're talking, and the question he'd spoken out himself leads them back to the reason of it all. Someone or something, the difference deciding about how he's being treated - can he be understood, worked with, or is he meant to be dissected, studied, archived? DNA and cells are made of data, so he might be that - data. Does that mean he is a something and that they, the people, the living beings, won't understand him - won't work with him? Would rather study him?

It makes sense, it's a truth, and there should be no weight existing to pull it into one or the other direction. A something does not choose to operate, to function, it just does, while a someone can stop functioning and reflect about whether it even wants to function, if whatever it does is worth it, achieving whatever needs to be achieved. Kane knows he is functioning - the instinct guides him and that's just how it is. It exists because it does. It works because it does. It copies because that's how it is. It copies and mimicks because that's how it's meant to be. It executes and it continues to execute, the instinct both acting as guide and fuel, a basic line of code, the bare essence.

---Thinking about it, however, causes a reaction to form. Instinct does not prompt feelings, emotions, they're a human concept, Kane knows. And yet that pressure, the weight he'd experienced before, only seems to grow exponentially as the seconds pass - so much so that it feels like as if his throat is going to close up, has him swallow, brows knitting as he stretches his neck and brings a hand up to feel along the shape of his own adams apple; Nothing is off, everything seemingly normal. And yet swallowing is harder than before, the heavy object inside him constricting his lungs as well, the act of breathing requiring more conscious effort than before.

What if he is a simple something, and not more? What if he is, and yet he is not, and he might not be what he thinks he is? Why is this affecting him, and why does he feel--- why does he feel heavy, why does it make his throat feel dry, why does he swallow again and why does the beating organ behind his ribs begin to pick up in pace?

"---Yes." Uncharacteristically choked up it sounds, that single word that leaves him after he swallows a third time; Kane's hand falls away again and he lowers his chin, inhales, exhales, bites the inside of his lip, the tip of his tongue. He does not know why he does all of this but he does it anyways, it feels right, it feels like something he needs to do right now while... while---

Eyes fall closed and he shakes his head, then the same hand from before comes up to wipe along his nose, rub the nostrils. It lets go after and another exhale follows, a shake of a head, a blink, eyes back on Harrow, the man who just told him the possibilities of what Kane could be.

His eyes burn. Why do they burn? It makes no sense. It makes sense. This feels familiar. It doesn't. A concept, again, but no experience.

"...But I don't like it. It doesn't feel good."

Kane's feeling something, he's sure by now, and it might be... non-physical. Is this an emotion? Which one is it?

Arthur kept his eyes on the man, attentive in a way that suggested archiving more than just listening. Arthur couldn’t help but find himself caught on the one phrase, the statement that the subject felt as if he were ‘everywhere’; not only was it poetic, it was structurally interesting. A statement of dispersed identity, of being smeared across the system rather than localized to a self. 

He wasn’t located in his chest. He was his entire body? He was the space that he took up? 

The last question only barely pulled him more than that; it caused an outward shift, a reaction without Arthur meaning to give one. 

Is being something undesirable? 

Arthur’s head disconnected from the wall, though neither in alarm or concern; it was something closer to alertness as his eyebrows pinched, head tilting. An experiment that had shifted in an unexpected direction. 

He rolled his shoulders, folding his hands in his lap and leaning back once more against the wall. “That’s the second time you’ve circled back,” he pointed out, his tone even. “I find that interesting. I’m going to make a note of that, as well.” 

He didn’t write, however, his fingers instead interlacing loosely. They formed an absent-minded steeple, his posture remaining still but the air around his thoughts coiling slightly. 

“You’re right, yes. I did say that. That’s a very important distinction, especially to the people who are funding this room.” He raised a hand to gesture around them, though didn’t elaborate further; he was getting paid to make the determination. He was getting paid to figure out what had happened to Kane, and what this thing was in front of him - and that was an important step in the process. 

“The difference between someone and something only defines what can be done to you. What rights you have. What… protections you can be afforded. If you are someone, then you need to be understood, and you can be worked with. If you are something, you can be studied. Dissected. Replicated. Archived.” 

There wasn’t any cruelty in the words - it was just truth. It was an offering. 

“But you aren’t asking me about ethics, I presume. You’re asking about whether it’s worse to be something, to exist without the burden of being someone. And that’s a much older question - one that humans don’t normally like to ask. I can’t really tell you if it’s better to be someone or to be something. I don’t think that has an answer.” 

It was objective. ‘Good’ and ‘bad’ were relative terms, and therefore it was impossible for anything to truly ‘be’ either. Something could not be a temporary title. If something was ‘good’ or ‘bad’, it was only a state of being, similar to identity. 

“Something can execute tasks,” he stated. “It can respond to input, it can observe, it can imitate. Programs do that. Viruses do that. They operate. Sometimes efficiently - sometimes brilliantly. But they don’t choose to operate. They run because they were made to run. Someone is different. They can reflect, they can override, they can stop. They can hesitate. They can wonder if they should do the thing they were made to do. That’s the distinction I’m looking for - because as I see it, presently, I have three theories.” 

He shifted slightly, one finger lifting up to mark each point in turn, like lining hypotheses in the air. 

“One: you are Kane. Not precisely the same, of course - altered, perhaps radically - but at your core, you are still the man who entered the Shimmer. A continuity of self, disrupted, perhaps moved into a new body, but not severed. That would suggest trauma, mutation, adaptation. I don’t believe this is the case.” 

A second finger, his hand falling to rest against his knee. 

“Two: you are not Kane. You are a separate being - an alien intelligence, perhaps - attempting to mimic him. You have access to his patterns, his speech, his gestures - but the man himself is gone. What is left is a reflection made in glass. Something… curious, maybe. Something learning.” 

A breath, paired with the raising of the third finger. 

“Three: you are neither. You are not Kane. You are not an alien. You are a process. A function. A virus, or something close to it - code that imprinted into matter, following the order to relocate. You do not understand what you are because you aren’t meant to understand - you’re a consequence of what the Shimmer made.” 

His money was on the third option. It made the most sense, it followed the most patterns; it made sense for what all was recovered from the location in the first place. A substance that could copy and remix whatever data was put into it; DNA, memory, anything. The only oddity about it was how perfect of a copy Kane appeared to be - though even that could be explained with statistics. 

“Does that make sense, to you?” 

[psyche-in-the-window]

yah guys i think armand was sooo in love with louis or wtv...

[rubberpuckies]

coming home from the bar with the newfound knowledge that my irl runs a popular f1 blog on here like girl i could have seen you on my dash........where are you........

[slightlytoastedbagel]

thinking back to that one scene in ORS where Kohane is thinking over when she first stepped into Weekend Garage (An singing in the back blowing her away) and when she goes through the door she is attacked by bisexuality (AkiAnToya singing and then she internal monologues over how she wants to protect this feeling and sing with them and other mushy things). this is truly the most polysquad moment ever holy bingle.

[freddyyeti]

Hrmmm thinking Thoughts. A while ago I was considering giving a S/I or two one of them fancy mobility canes to try and help myself feel a little less skiddish with the whole Okay Yeah I’m Disabled Thing. But I’m kinda waffling over whether or not it’s a good idea, y’know?

I’m not sure if What I Have is actually worth using a cane. The most I really struggle with is chronic pain and fatigue. And even then, said chronic pain is pretty inconsistent. It’s kinda weird, whenever I walk around, it’s not really That bad, much less noticeable. But once I lie down, I feel like that meme of a baby enshrouded in ash screaming. Not to mention how the pain constantly changes where it is.

Ehhh I dunno I’m kinda just yapping. Mewchuals goated with the disabled swagger, feel free to chip in

[xamaxenta]

Maybe the reason i always hate my work afterwards is because i regret not doing it another way and thats toxic

[slimyenemy]

hey, you're doing a thing again i think. it wouldn't be about me then at all and would be infinitely important. and this choice you're making right now is absolutely the worst option possible regarding this and i *do not* think you have reasons for that.

[cosunter]

awrgh. yahhoo yay

[cutetanuki-chan]

sometimes I see people being confused where alectostasia ship came from so here's a little bit of run down

I'm not really good with words so it might be clunky

what we know from the text

Anastasia tries to achieve 'perfect lyctorhood', something goes wrong during her ascension, John kills Samael, Anastasia fails her attempt

Anastasia moves to the ninth, continues working on the house or only founding it at that time

John asks Anastasia to help build the tomb 'I built that tomb with Anastasia, designed every inch of it.'

somewhere between working on it and Alecto's entombment, Alecto and Anastasia make a vow where Alecto basically swears as a cavalier to her 'Alecto said, I remember my vows. As I swore to Anastasia I swear to you. I am in your service until you bid me the favour, and whatsoever you appoint I shall perform, and consider the vow rendered. This is what I promised, until such a time as you deal with me as you see fit.'

as John leading Alecto to the tomb, she asks to see Anastasia 'She had said, There are almost no beautiful things left. Where is Anastasia? Let me talk to Anastasia.'

presumable Anastasia is the one to inflict to the ninth house importance of keeping her bloodline and worshiping of the tomb through all of those years

Anastasia's bones are in the tomb 'She looked back beyond, and she saw Anastasia, tucked where nobody would find her: Anastasia, all bones. Not really Anastasia. But Anastasia’s body without the meat on it, snuggled right into the curve of the rock, ready to close the door whenever it was opened. She remembered Anastasia.'

Alecto immediately getting chill after tasting Harrow's blood 'The child was silent; but her blood was on Alecto’s lips, and through that blood Alecto was made to understand what it was, and was astonished exceedingly. Alecto put away wrath and said: Thou art the blood of the tomb-keeper.'

Alecto saying sorry for Samael

the implications

the vow on itself is very interesting, at first we all know how usually normal cavalier and necromancer relationships are. then for Alecto to comply to that, indicates she should be pretty trusting of Anastasia, and their relationships at least somehow better than with other lyctors who were terrified of her

then there's also the tombkeeper blood thing, what serves as a check note for Alecto after waking up, and means the initial purpose of the ninth house was actually waiting for rock to roll away

and one part of the vow seems to imply 'if anyone beside a tombkeeper wake you, slay them as they came to hurt you', as could hinted on a protection from other lyctors who wanted to kill Alecto? (Then Alecto remembered the vow, and turned back upon the altar to face the second child and raised the sword with wrath in her heart, for they meant to bring destruction upon her.)

then the matter of Anastasia's bones laying in the tomb next to the rock. not sure if it's just her skeleton or she made herself a some construct mechanism from her bones. and not clear if she got entombed on her own volition or John closed them both there, but being entombed together five feet apart cause we are not gay

there's also some oddness in Alecto immediately after waking saying she's sorry for Samael, but I won't go into that here, anyway Anastasia was trying to find a better way to lyctorhood and I think in her more close relationships with Alecto she figured out something that John wasn't telling them, before or after her ascension

and some theories

I think I first heard this theory from @/mayasaura, that ninth house tradition of telling secrets while submerged in the salt water could've corelate with Anastasia trying to have a talk like that with Alecto since she feels the most at ease in the salt water, so means pool time for alectostasia too

another one that I really like but not sure how much legs it actually would have in canon, one of the reasons Nona was so enamored with her body cause Harrow is a spitting image of Anastasia, first saw @/corvophobia talking about it

coming back to Harrow, could there be anything more to her taking immediate affection to the Body a la some fuckery with Anastasia's spirt/tombkeeper's blood

more people explained it better, I try to reblog most of the theories in my side blog, you can check it out there but some of it explicit just in case

anyway in conclusion, as I keep procrastinating with my work, I don't think they were making out 24/7 in Canaan house in canon but something for sure happened there between them

[ostolero]

Mirroring Sheev's Plan by Sullivan

Performed by Austin Walker on AMCA

(originally posted on Cohost)

https://bsky.app/profile/dimosar.bsky.social

https://bsky.app/profile/austinwalker.bsky.social

https://bsky.app/profile/morecivilized.bsky.social

Sheev's Plan:

get elected to senate for naboo

start new sith order

work republic and separatists against each other. recruit evil guy to lead separatists.

(this jedi kid is wicked strong!)

get jedi in deep with clone army. (save some clone jars for later? just in case...)

PIVOT: Make the jedi kid evil. dont need separatist guy anymore. got a new evil guy.

make my evil guy kill his jedi pals when they come to arrest me. ill finish em off with my lightning attack

(fucking guy used his sword to bounce my lightning back at me! honestly my fault. takes a minute for the lightning to wind down and he got my ass on the bounce. fair play. now i look like a leather couch but its fine. can blame jedi for THAT too)

Use the clones to kill the jedi, have my evil guy kill the seperatists, keep the army, spin into empire

GALAXY NOW UNDER MY CONTROL

chill as emperor for a while. humiliate Vader for a laugh. make death star.

Endgame achieved.

(Vader's kid blows up my death star)

PIVOT: get new young apprentice by turning him evil once he kills his dad, or maybe make Vader cooler by making him kill his gay son. either way its a win-win for me.

(thrown down hole and killed.)

PIVOT: good thing i kept those clone jars!! make new clone body to inhabit. takes time to get right. need something to do until then

build enormous fleet of big spaceships, each with their own super death star laser. keep em on the down low... why use em? they lose half the value as soon as you fly them off the lot

(clone son betrays me but its no biggie. its fine. have loads of clones at this point. whats one clone son?)

create a DECOY fascist empire. put one of my weirder clones in charge. Not giving them any of my ships though. can build his own shit. dont look at me. get a bank loan

let failed clone recruit vaders grandson (will explain why later) let those guys take over the galaxy with a different super death star. assume they built this one themselves. very cute!

GALAXY NOW UNDER MY CONTROL

(only via proxy tho. not done yet)

let(??) vaders grandson ("ben"?? ok) usurp failed clone and rule galaxy. wants to “kill the past” but whatever. can still make this work. NEED to keep this kid in the mix (will make sense when we get there)

drop the big news. Im not dead! Fortnite. awesome moment.

lead kylo ren to my base using complex scavenger hunt. puzzle knife.

tell him he’s always actually worked for me. big reveal. big moment. He's my lackey now. a little traitorous and unreliable, but this will pay off later trust me

use death star ships to take over galaxy even more

GALAXY NOW UNDER MY CONTROL

(awesome... but not enough. something missing)

let kylo ren lead clone granddaughter to home base using complex scavenger hunt. Puzzle Knife cool enough idea to do twice i think

taunt granddaughter into killing me so i can possess her un-janked body. All part of my grand scheme...

Endgame achieved. (??)

(kylo ren betrays me)

PIVOT: Possession stupid plan anyway. Instead, use ben and reys Horny Essence to make my nasty old body normal again.

throw ben in hole (grandson purpose revealed)

destroy resistance with lightning powers. shooting spaceships down with magic lightning basically a solved problem at this point.

GALAXY NOW UNDER MY CONTROL

kill the granddaughter actually. dont need her anymore. lightning powers classic for a reason.

ive got this thing in the bag as long as she doesn't bounce the lightning back at me off her fucking laser sword.

Endgame achieved.

[thewitchblue]

"Are you looking for something?"

You asked Damian innocently. Damian looked unamused at what you may be holding behind your back, but now he was curious and couldn't focus back on the case he was trying to solve prior to your arrival. He said,

"Of course not. I misplace nothing."

You leaned against a nearby wall and said while holding his baby nephew with raise eyebrows,

"I found this on the streets on my walk here."

Damian had forgotten he was technically supposed to be babysitting. The baby was so silent that Damian had assumed he was asleep. He should have been checking, but he was so absorbed into the case that he neglected his nephew. Why didn't he cry? Why did the little escape artist run away? Babies love Damian, and he's a great babysitter.

"If we were anywhere except Gotham, I would be in prison for kidnapping."

You said as you passed over the baby to Damian, who took him so gingerly it melted your heart. He really loved his little nephew.

"Please don't tell Dick."

He said in a pleading tone while rocking the baby gently in his arms to put him to sleep for a nap. You were genuinely surprised he wanted to continue babysitting after letting the kid crawl away. However, you knew Dick needed babysitters desperately, and Damian had been doing a great job otherwise. Then again, you are in Gotham, and who knows what could happen to a baby on the streets. You sighed and said,

"Just... don't let it happen again. Maybe you need time away from the BatCave while babysitting."

Damian nodded. Was the baby looking for Dick and wanted to crawl all the way to Bludhaven to see him? Damian was curious about what the baby was thinking when he escaped him. Damian looked at his case file with a final look before closing everything he's worked on after saving it and leaving the cave with the baby in his arms.

He walked into the nursery with you trailing behind him. You liked seeing Damian with a baby. He always loves visiting the NICU at the hospital, and you often catch him there during his breaks.

"Mother always made it seem like I was made to continue the bloodline. I was to marry within the assassin clans as a peace offering and sire an heir to the throne should I be killed in combat."

His voice was so soft and weary. All the fire within Damian had been extinguished into a candle flame. You pulled him into a hug after he set down the now sleeping baby. You murmured to him,

"I'm sorry, darling. You can always talk to me."

Damian nodded, but he was still sorrowful as he thought about the childhood he lost through all the seemingly pointless fighting. Good, bad, did it ever really matter? Damian wasn't sure.

Spending time in the hospital, with the victims of these crimes, has changed his perspective. These are people. These are real people with real trauma, and many who ask for him to remove their life support to end their suffering. What if they are the reason behind all this suffering?

The villains are getting what they want: attention. They are getting their fame and enjoying the suffering of others to achieve it. Is Batman making it better or worse? Sure, the small criminals who turn to crime out of desperation are terrified, but the big villains? They want his attention, and they will continue to escalate until they are either dead or unable to do anything except scheme.

Bruce will be fighting until he dies, and Damian used to admire that. He used to want that lifestyle. Damian was supposed to be a potential heir to the cowl, but he doesn't want it anymore. He's not fighting for it. It feels like everybody else is running away from the cowl as well. The others seem to think Gotham needs a Batman to keep it safe, but are they sure they want to continue this endless fight?

Damian doesn't want to be a hero anymore. He doesn't want to inherit the cowl. He wants to live a normal life, and he wants to be happy. He wants to be able to relax and sleep easy at night. He wants to love you without messy consequences and thousands of setbacks. He wants to trust people outside of just fighting. He wants so much more in life. His work at the hospital is the only thing normal about him, and that fact scared him. His friends aren't normal, his family isn't normal, and not even school was normal for him because he was smarter than everybody in the building. Is this why Tim wanted to date a civilian? Because he also craves normalcy?

These thoughts keep him up at night until he inevitably calls you to ask if you can spend the rest of the night with him "just for tonight." And then another night. And then another night. He likes to imagine his arms soothed you as much as yours soothed him.

You eventually bought Damian a teddy bear for the sleepless nights to replace you when you are unavailable, but he had pretended it was insulting and gave the first one away to the baby. You suggested a build-a-bear date with just you and him, but he rejected it.

You still went, but that's because Jason overheard and said he's been meaning to get some toys for the street kids, then Dick tagged along with the baby obviously, who then forced Tim into it after saying Valentine's Day is coming up. It's not, but Tim was dragged along anyway after Dick started weaponising pride month.

You looked at Damian warmly. You managed to get him a teddy bear anyway but gifted it to him in private the second time. The others didn't see you buy the bear for him, and they still don't know about it. He was sentimental enough to keep the bear, and you even had fun making it.

You lightly kissed Damian's forehead while looking at the baby. You loved this family. You met Damian at the hospital when you were both volunteering. You volunteered in the Labour and Delivery unit that day and spotted him staring at the babies with an unguarded fondness. He adores every one of them, and he misses them when they leave with their families. He even genuinely considered kidnapping a couple to raise by himself when the families seem to be awful people. You stayed by his side through the years and into his residency at the same hospital he started in. You looked between Damian's soft expression and the sleeping baby.

"Isn't he beautiful, darling?"

You murmured to him while taking his hand in yours with a warm smile. Damian nodded with a fond expression on his face as he pulled you into his arms gently. He won't admit it, but he's a little jealous of Dick. He has a family outside of the crazy Batfamily. This baby means the world to Dick, and Damian wants a family like that. He wants a beautiful family without the chaos of both sides of his own. He wants to be normal. Damian wants his forever with you.

Damian's arms around you tightened slightly when you kissed him. This is perfect. You were his first relationship, and you will be his final relationship. He will make certain of that. He will not be letting you go anytime soon.