#but that's kind of grandiose even for me

[sacrilegious-skeletal-scribe]

People have this boundless and terrible propensity for wonder, that shows us fear, and drags our first nightmares to worn pillows and makes us look into sunset into our eyes burn, and it’s one of my favorite parts of humanity, as a whole, I think. But as someone who’s belong to a fair few schools of thought, who’s watched people I care for trudge down that spiral of quicksand that is nihilism, that man-eating tar pit that I dragged myself out of on screaming elbows, and I can’t help but want to… wave semaphore flags, launch red flags into the stratosphere, fall to my knees and beg, ‘Please, I know it’s easy to fall into, I know because I was you, for four years, and if I can save you half of what I did to myself, please, let me try.’

Because when you turn over to the evening news to watch your species tearing itself apart, when you find a working balance between empathy and being able to sleep at night only to watch a hail storm kneecap your desperate future, it’s terrifyingly easy to slip into that morphine drip of, ‘Nothing matters, everything is cold and hateful, and we’ll all die anyway.’ With the heat death of the universe constantly looming over the concept of legacy, of lasting impact, that’s the conclusion, isn’t it? That’s the end of the yellow brick road, just a mass grave and a high dive, so we might as well get our swimming suits on now, right? 

And maybe it’s overstated, maybe I’ve simply carved my place into this rock tunnel too firmly to get anything more than the crystal warped echo of events from the mouth of the cave, but I can’t seem to strap on enough shame to stop myself from shouting down every saline-drenched hallway, every screen door that’ll never close quite the right way again, every all-nite laundromat cracking apart at it’s concrete seams, that love, for the sake of itself, is the point. That neutral has never slept in the same bed as cruel, that there’s such a yawning abyss of distance between an uncaring universe and a hostile one. 

Because once you get far enough out from your paralyzing grief, and guilt, and fear, there’s so much life, happening everywhere! All at once! And you had nothing to do with it, and that’s beautiful! There’s this… fucking epiphany that happens in your sleep, and on your couch, and across the dinner table from someone you never would’ve gotten to see again if just one of those plans, those backups, those bad days had gone a little bit farther, a little bit worse then it did. That just because some of those stars sit so distant in time they’ve been dead for millennia, does not mean they don’t matter. Everything matters, so damn much, because none of it has to. We decided to care, we decided that this life was ours and full of energy and dread and passion and grief and we decided, it’s not nirvana but it’ll have to do, and then we built lives here!

Love’s been the point since we had the words to wrap around it with inexperienced fingers, it’s been the point since two sets of eyes could meet each other and know that the thing staring back was worth just as much to the wriggling membrane beneath it as to wrench hearts from their chests should that quiet distance be enforced further than the other could go. It’s been the point since death became a barrier, rather than a stage in existence, when tears were shed for the first time for love, for happiness, for shame, for the aching separation of an ever-silenced pulse. 

Insignificant and worthless are so, so far from each other. And once that comes naturally to you, once that winds itself around your small intestine and pokes around every few weeks to make sure you remember it’s still kicking around down there… You can find this want to share it with somebody, anybody else. Because the love’s what makes this worth it. Not because we were born with it, not because there’s a greater fate pulling strings into a majestic, tragic tapestry to be remember for eons, worn around the shoulders of god-kings!

But because we saw the wickedness of our fellows, because we saw the unfairness of snarling natural disasters and unforgiving animal kingdoms and unstoppable aging, the pain caused by time itself, and said to each other, ‘Yeah, but… We’re already at the party, and that six-dollar wine isn’t going to drink itself. It might swallow us whole, in an hour or two, but the stars look incredible from the bottom of this pool, and it’s a hell of a view to waste.’

[isfjmel-phleg]

Here's the tentative outline of the TSG paper, as okayed by the professor whom I've been discussing the project with:

intro to the trend of recent adaptations/retellings reframing TSG as a story about grief

an assertion that the book is really about healing from childhood e m o t i o n a l n e g l e c t (CEN) (my thesis?)

defining CEN and distinguishing it from traditional grief

an analysis of CEN in the text

how this interacts with what these adaptations/retellings are doing

conclusion about the importance of the text’s depiction of CEN and why it’s worth acknowledging/exploring

It's a relief to pin this down and be able to go into this with some kind of focus. I've already got a start on the first paragraph. I'm trying a method of drafting by just constructing the basic argument and then working in all the evidence and research later. My college papers tended to take forever to write because I drafted them with Finished Perfection in mind for each sentence, which is stressful and easy to get bogged down with. We'll see how it works. The paper needs to be completed by October, probably the end of the month at the very latest, but I'd like to get it finished in enough time to fully polish and not have to stress about a tight deadline.

I can do this. Probably. It's been a few years but I might still have it in me.

[greenfiend]

So I went on Reddit (big mistake I know). And it’s honestly so fascinating to me, like from a psychological perspective, how adamant 99% of them are that there’s zero evidence for Byler/Mike being queer.

When there’s actually more evidence for Byler than so many other ships out there? (For comparison sake, I shipped Ron/Hermione back in the day, and I was fairly confident they’d end up together (they did). Though, there was not as much evidence… I’d argue.)

Like, do just a few minutes of research and you’ll find evidence in the cinematography, the music, the costume design, the script, the acting choices, and more.

To be fair, I *try* to look up evidence to the contrary… and what do I find? Shallow, surface level evidence… “Mike said he loves Eleven” (completely ignoring how lying is a major reoccurring theme in the show…)

Then you have them all echoing that Bylers are delusional. And I’m not even upset. I’m just fascinated. The lack of insight is astounding.

[rotisseries]

yes I think mlvn sucks and they're both gay and in love with their best friends but also I think making an elmike playlist and putting sad breakup songs on it is hysterical

[paintalyx]

planning a relationship between two ttrpg characters will have you discovering tropes you never would have considered going insane over. every addition is a galaxy brain moment

[pepprs]

the mortifying ordeal of not having to participate in redacted this year which means no one can call me out for being a passive people pleaser as has happened every time ive participated in this activity dating back to the first time i ever did it in 2018 but then hours later getting myself in a stupid fucking situation that is basically the equivalent of attaching a giant neon sign to my body that says “passive people pleaser” and then getting called out for it and spending the next 3 hours having to facilitate while trying not to cry or make myself explode!

[roughentumble]

Geraskier sci fi au, Geralt is a "surveyor" meant to check out planets that are marked for potential settlement and give detailed reports. He's gotten a few physical enhancements to make this easier, some planets should NEVER have been considered to say the least, but while he is fully stocked up on all the chems he could ever need, he finds this place is fairly calm and seemingly untouched. Until he finds a broken android, dressed in strangly fancy garb. His curiosity takes over, and he sets about tinkering to fix him up. He's always been left to fix his ship himself, so he has plenty of experience in the matter. To his surprise, the android wakes up, in a way that he's never seen before, with a curt question as to what, exactly, Geralt was doing with his hands around "these parts". After the rough introduction, the android introduces himself as "Jaskier, Poet Among The Stars!" and then seems to recognize Geralt from "back on Terra Firma" and apparently, several other places and times over the past few centuries. Geralt becomes a little disquieted by this and attempts to shake off the android during his survey, but it seems to be fixated on getting Geralt to "remember". Eventually he goes by a month without the android popping up again, and it had become such routine that he found himself a little worried. He backtracks and finds the android broken once again, and once again he fixes it. It becomes clear over the months that the android cannot "survive alone" so when the survey is over geralt is faced with the decision of taking it with him on Roach or not.

!!!!! SCREAMMMM I LOVE THIS

[roachliquid]

Man. It really bites seeing Maximus (from the Fallout series) be so heavily overlooked by the fandom, when he is such a well-written character. Bar none, he's one of the best fictional examples I have ever seen of someone raised in a high-control group.

The Brotherhood of Steel, in their entirety, are given all the classic traits of a cult or HCG. They boast about having these grandiose ideals, all of which revolve around controlling other people's behavior. They use those same ideals to justify abusing lower-ranking members, implying all the while that it serves some greater good. And despite their supposedly rigorous beliefs, they're happy to turn a blind eye to unsanctioned abuse - because it serves the same purpose of keeping people "in their place".

Then we're introduced to Maximus - a young man who has made the mistake of taking those ideals seriously, but due to the environment he's been trapped in, was never taught how to act on them in a real and meaningful way. And in the process of figuring that out, he fucks up. (He fucks up a lot, because the Brotherhood wouldn't dare teach him anything that might help him function without their support.) But he genuinely wants to do the right thing, and we see that come through time and again as he slowly learns how to be his own person.

And yet, even with all that growth under his belt, getting away from the group isn't that simple. Because, like any high control group worth its salt, the Brotherhood doesn't want you to leave. Sure, they'll threaten to kick you out (or in this case, kill you) - because it keeps you in line. But they'd much rather have you under their thumb, so he still has to deal with the threat of getting sucked back in.

As a cult survivor, I rarely see people like me depicted accurately in the media. We're almost always either scheming sadists or helpless barefoot victims - you rarely see a nuanced depiction of how a regular person, with both good intentions and the skills needed to get away, can still end up trapped in that kind of group. Maximus is an incredible example of how that can play out, and I hope more people come to appreciate both him as a character and how well that dynamic was handled.

[theghoulshat]

domestic pre-war!cooper, pretty please~ 👀

Unchained Melody

Pre-War!Cooper Howard x F!Reader pinned info — send me a request — masterlist MDNI 🔞 established relationship, domestic fluff, mentions of alcohol use, some suggestive themes, cooper is a divorcee, supportive janey, talks of a marriage proposal, teeny tiny bit of angst. word count: 1,744

Lonely rivers flow To the sea, to the sea To the open arms of the sea, yeah

The sun's rays spill through the gap in the curtains, alerting Cooper to the new day. He wakes up groggily, the party from the night before finally hitting him like a truck. Sometimes being a well-known actor meant you had to go out from time to time, to keep up your public image. Cooper was always willing to meet a fan, but that many in one night? He was socially drained by the time he'd come back home, and into your arms. He was fairly drunk too, but that was besides the point.

Lonely rivers sigh "Wait for me, wait for me" I'll be coming home, wait for me

His eyes gaze over at you, and he can't help but smile at how gorgeous you looked. With the way the light covered you, you looked like an actual angel. Cooper couldn't believe he had been so lucky to find you after his divorce from Janey's mother. He appreciated that you loved him for him - and not for the money that came with his kind of fame. He couldn't help but wonder if you were a gift specifically crafted for him, by God, or if he was just in the right place at the right time when the two of you met.

Either way, he was going to make sure to keep you around for the rest of your lives. The ring that was hidden away in his bedside table was ready and waiting for the right time for him to propose to you. You had been together almost nine months, and he felt like you had been together for far longer than that.

He wanted to tie the knot with you, but he had his doubts. Would you even want to marry a divorcee? There was a stigma about it, but you were not the kind of woman to care about something like that. So long as he loved you, and wanted to be with you, why did it matter that he was married once before, and had a kid?

Woah, my love, my darling I've hungered for your touch A long, lonely time

He didn't know that you had seen the box while you'd done a bit of spring cleaning. He was away for a whole month while he filmed on the other side of the country. It was for another Western, called 'The Man from Deadhorse'. He couldn't tell you much about it, for confidentiality reasons, but you had both planned to watch it on its release day in the local movie theatre. With Janey, of course.

You loved that little girl with all your heart. She may not have been yours biologically, but you still considered her your own. You'd recently sat her down, with her father there to listen, as you explained that you were never going to replace her real mother - but you still wanted her to know that you were there for her, if she ever needed you, and that you were perfectly fine with the idea of her calling you 'mom', so long as Cooper's ex-wife was fine with that too.

Janey had been surprisingly supportive of your union with her dad. She just wanted him to be happy, especially after seeing how heartbroken he was after the divorce with her mom. She thought you were an amazing woman, for being able to make her dad smile again after the dark period he had found himself in. It tore her heart apart whenever she'd catch him with the mask off. Especially the way his eyes would lose their light as he stared off into the distance, whiskey in hand, when he thought no one was looking.

His charming smile never felt the same after the divorce, but you brought that light back into his eyes, and the genuineness to his smile, and both Janey and Cooper appreciated you greatly for it. They couldn't really put it into words, but you felt it. You were the not the kind of person to expect anything grandiose from either of them. You loved them, and they loved you - that was all you wanted, and needed, from them.

And time goes by so slowly And time can do so much Are you still mine?

The moment of silent bliss was interrupted by the soft groan that leaves your lips as you slowly awaken, the sun's rays disturbing you from your slumber. Cooper can't help but chuckle a little to himself as he watches you struggle to wake up. His arms wrap around you and pull you into him, his body heat not helping your struggle to wake up properly.

"Good morning, sweetheart." His morning voice was so sexy. If Cooper didn't have somewhere to be, you would have suggested that you two have a quickie while the two of you cuddled in bed. It certainly would have helped wake you up for the day.

"Mornin'..." You drawl out, nuzzling your tired face into his neck. "How can you wake up so easily?" You whined, wrapping your arms around him tightly, not wanting to let him go.

"Waking up and seeing your beautiful face in the morning... that's how, darlin'." He presses his lips against the crown of your head, and you find your cheeks tingling as you blush at his words. He was such a charmer.

You both lay there in silence for a few minutes, listening out for Janey's alarm clock's jarring chime. You two didn't want to part from each other's arms, but your little girl would need some breakfast and her clothes ironed for the day ahead. Cooper opted to cook, while you opted to iron. The way you both worked in harmony was a sight to behold. And Janey watched you both move around her, and each other, with a large grin of admiration on her face.

I need your love I need your love God speed your love to me

The song 'Unchained Melody' plays low in the background as the two of you finish with your tasks. Cooper dishes up the pancakes with butter on top, while you help Janey get her freshly-ironed clothes on. "Breakfast's ready!" He calls out, just as the two of you emerge from Janey's room. "Are my two favourite girls hungry for some pancakes?" He grins wide as Janey cheers, rushing towards the table with your hand in hers.

As the three of you sat at the table, breakfast in your bellies, you checked the clock on the wall and audibly gasped: "Oh no! You two are going to be late! I best get your hats-" You rushed out of your seat to find their respective cowboy and cowgirl hats. You were careful holding them as you returned to them. They were both standing up from their seats, waiting patiently and calmly - a complete contrast to how rushed you felt.

As you passed Cooper his hat, you gave him a soft peck on the lips. "Knock 'em dead, honey." You both smiled lovingly at each other before you turned to place Janey's hat on top of her head, careful as to not squash her bouncy curls too much. You find your hands brushing at the girl's shoulders as you inspect her blue and yellow outfit. It was the spitting image of her father's costume, and you couldn't help but gush at how cute she looked when she first put it on.

"Make sure to listen to your father, alright? And maybe try to make some new friends with the kids at the party?" You playfully pinch at her round cheeks, making the young girl groan in feigned annoyance.

"Okay, mommy, I'll try." She says it so nonchalantly, you almost miss it - but you don't. You straighten up, your wide eyes glancing over at Cooper's own, as you process it together. Janey seems none the wiser about the way you want to grab hold of her and cry from the sheer joy you felt at being called 'mommy'.

Tears form at the corner of your eyes, but you blink them away with a wide smile as you watch Janey skip excitedly towards the door. "I'm going to get Sugarfoot ready!" She calls over her shoulder, leaving through the front door of the house. "Be careful, honey!" You call after her, doubting she even heard you over the door closing.

"Coop... did she really just call me that?" You can't help but feel like you were still dreaming. He looks to you and smiles softly at you in an empathetic manner. He leans towards you, his hand on your elbow, as his lips peck your cheek.

Squeezing your elbow, he gives you his signature smirk and winks at you. "I'll be seeing you later... mommy." You let out a hearty laugh, swatting at him for saying it out loud like that.

"Go on, Coop, you're both going to be late! And Janey's handling Sugarfoot all by her little self - she'll need your help." You chuckle and shake your head as you shoo him through the front door.

He stops and turns one last time, giving you one more peck on the lips. "I'll see you after this Roy kid's birthday party, alright? I have a surprise lined up for tonight." He tips his hat at you as he parts from you, and you can't help but swoon a little at the move.

You watch quietly from the open door as they both clamber on top of Sugarfoot. "You better bring some of that cake back with you!" You jokingly call out to them as you wave them both goodbye. "Look after each other!"

You knew what Cooper's surprise was going to be. You had been waiting for it since you'd accidentally found the box in his bedside drawer.

But what you didn't know, however, was that they wouldn't be coming back. Not because they didn't want to, but because they wouldn't be able to. The image of them sauntering off on top of the white horse would be the very last memory you would have of them.

All because it was October 23rd... the day that the world would change forever. And you would find yourself witnessing that change, without the ones you loved most by your side. Fear in your aching heart, as you knew that you would never get to see them again...

[livelaughlovesubs]

Incubus fyodor 1

Dom!priest!reader x sub!incubus!fyodor

Warning: pegging, CNC, against a wall, in a church lol, also taking virginity??

Sometimes I use strap, most of the time dick or whatever. Then anyone can feel included? Idk?

This was requested by 🍮 anon, like a loooong time ago. Gonna repost it now :> (was too lazy to do so but now that you are back-)

Fyodor was just wandering around, looking for his next victim. It was boring to keep staying at one place, he always craved something grandiose and better. One day he ended up at a church after going around town, he detested those places due to his nature. But then he saw you through the windows, a diligent priest working for god. Proud, hard working and kind. What a sight, you must have never known the pleasures of the flesh. Oh how he pitied you, guess he will just ‘enlighten’ you then~

The incubus was wandering inside the building, looking everywhere for you. Until he found you in the chancel, the sacred place. Perfect, let's see how sacred it will be after he defies god’s little helper. Protecting one’s innocence? How laughable.

Fyodor walked inside, wrapping his hands around you and holding you from behind. Hands running all over your torso, grinning in delight as he said, “come on, let's have a little fun~ I can fulfil all your fantasies...” before he could even react to it, you took hold of his hands, turning around and twisting them in the process. “aAHH-”he yelped, falling backwards and taking a few steps back, his body hitting the wall. Your hand pinning his wrists over his head, knee pressed against the wall in between his legs. He felt you apply pressure to his crotch.

The boy gritted his teeth, showing his fangs. "Are you a demon?" You asked nonchalantly, while he struggled against your strength. Fuck, why were you so strong? “Yea and? What, gonna exorcise me? Haha.” “An incubi probably, by the way you were touching me.” You came to that conclusion, not an ounce of emotion present in your voice.

Continuing on as if you didn't hear him, thinking for a second. “I suppose you wanted to feast on me?” He stared at you with a skeptical look, why did you seem so interested? Before he got the chance to ask you, you commented, “I'm sorry that you were born this way, having to rely on such sinful acts to survive.. what a pitiful being.” “What, oh no you are the pitiful thing here, I bet you don't know what pleasure is, all because of some prideful faith. Want me to teach you?” Fyodor said cheekily, grinning as he looked up at you, his knees bend slightly due to the position.

“Don't get me wrong, I don't detest your kind. God has taught us to accept anyone. In fact, i’d be willing to help you, so that you don't need to bother other innocent souls. It's the duty of a priest.” He didn't understand what you were hinting at, for him you were talking garbage. “You aren’t going to seal me or anything?” The demon was genuinely confused, you want to help him? Why? “No need to fear anything, I'm sure you have experience in this field after all.” Next thing he knew you turned him around, his back arching like a crescent moon. “What are you…” suddenly you pulled his pants down, exposing his plum butt. “Huh?! wha-" poor him, that incubus was super confused now, this can't be what he thinks it is right?

Seems like his worries came true, it was what he feared, he knew when he felt your tip press against him. “Hu-huh? Wait a second..! I-I thought you were...” “I've learned many ways to deal with succubus or incubus, don't worry I'm quite experienced too.” Then you entered him, yearning a surprised moan from the male. “Ahh..!” Fingers desperately gripping the wall, looking for anything he can clench onto, eyes looking back and trying to understand the situation. He was getting… topped? By a priest nonetheless??

Him? Up until now he has only ever been on top. What experience, this is his first! Fyodor felt another push from you, the strap slowly driving into him. “You are so tight... ah, what's your name?” “Why do you care, pull it out!” “I'm sorry, I can't do that.” “Why?!” “Because I have to subdue you first, to make you submit.” Your voice was serious as you said that, pushing more of your dick inside him. “UgHh! Slo-slow down...gentle, gentle! Ah, hu-hurts..” the boy whined now, crying softly as his dick twitched in excitement. “Oh? It is your first? Maybe you aren’t as dirty as I thought.” Still using the same emotionless voice as before, you kept unintentionally leave snarky remarks behind. All while your free hand collected the slick around his rim, covering the toy with it.

“So wet already, more than many others of your kind.” Were you mocking him? He wanted to insult you, if only the dick wasn't making his mind go blank. “Ahh...you, I won't-mhm! Fo-forgive you.” “I don't need your forgiveness, only gods.” You said, before starting to move and trust into him. Then you explained, “in order to excuse this sin I had to commit due to your existence, we will have to work hard to beg for forgiveness.” “AhHh! Ah-aHh.ah. Oh-uhh..uhm! Nghh..!” Each trust was paired with whimpers or a moan. Cute squeaking sounds escaped him, face and shoulders flushed red and figure covered in sweat now. His filthy fluids were running down those slim and shaky legs, eyes rolling into the back of his head. What was he doing, didn't he plan on fucking you at first? So how was he getting dicked down now. It was still too hard to comprehend. Yet it felt so good.. it was melting his brain, he has never felt anything this amazing before.

“Such inappropriate noises you are letting out, i guess you are enjoying yourself?” The hand which you used to collect his slick was now on his hips, holding him in place since he kept trying to wriggle his way out, trying to escape those blissful sensations. “Ah..wait..ah-Uhm! This is..no-no good..stop aHh!” He whispered, shortly after tears started rolling down his blushing face. You only picked up your pace, going faster and rutting into him roughly, sometimes you'd brush against his prostate which made him cry out even more. “Ah-aAhhH! OOHh! I'm c-close.. m’gonna cu-cum.” Fyodor breathed out, his entire being quivering in pleasure. This was heaven. Don’t get him wrong, he knew nothing of heaven but this is how he'd imagine paradise to be like. He was filled with pure ecstasy, it was damn addicting and he doesn't think he will ever get over it.

“You have to beg for forgiveness, and to excuse your pathetic self.” You whispered into his ear. Like a spell he couldn’t disobey, he immediately began pleading with.. whom? God? You? Ugh.. to think he had come this low. “AhhHhAA!! ohHh! For-forgive meHHnghh~..!!” His release came in torrents, coursing through his veins and making his legs go weak. He felt so helpless, so exposed and vulnerable with you. And it was the best feeling he has ever experienced, never in his life did he knew something like this was possible. Those noises were filled with desire and longing, loud and clear as he painted the wall white, “aAhHahhhH~!” A shudder ran down his spine, hole clenching down onto you.

The slick was all the way down to his knees now, and he was still lost in subspace. Guess the climax was pretty intense, rendering him to such a whiny mess. You weren't sure if he could understand you, but you tried it anyway. “So, may I inquire the name of you pitiful thing?” There were no answers, only breathy whines and pants. Eventually he gasped out his name meekly, mumbling, “fyo-fyodor…” After blinking a few times, you leaned down to his ear and uttered in a seductive, as well as sadistic voice. This was the first time he heard your tone change. “I'm going to keep you here, so that you wont cause troubles for others. You don’t mind being my pet fyodor, isn’t that right?” And you let go of him after finishing your sentence. Hands leaving his body. Ahh..another shiver travelled down to his core, how could he ever refuse such an enticing offer? Without your help, his legs finally betrayed his body as he crashed down onto the ground. Sitting there looking all ravaged while a sticky white puddle formed beneath him. Fyodor looked at you over his shoulder while panting heavily, tongue hanging out from his blushing face like a dumb little pet.

Part two

[victorialovesstiles]

There’s something so subtle about the way Hua Cheng loves Xie Lian.

(Hold on, hear me out...)

In fiction, when we have a character who loves someone as deeply as Hua Cheng loves Xie Lian, we usually see the ugly side of that affection rear it's head eventually.

Adoration turns into obsession (any positive thing can turn ugly in excess). Obsession can drive behaviour that most of us cringe at; one worst case scenario is stalking, but even a best case would be the expectation (or worthiness) of reciprication.

This obsession can also be followed by huge, grandiose actions that leave the object of the affections no room to guess at the other's feelings and intentions.

Hua Cheng doesn't do any of that. His love is akin to worship, or rather, it literally is reverance for a god. No expectation, no indignance - just pure adoration untainted by the usual consequences of human love.

His love is so subtle, in fact, that Xie Lian can't even begin to guess at his intentions. Even going so far as to wonder continuously in the beginning why Hua Cheng spares so much time and kindness for him.

Hua Cheng expects nothing from Xie Lian - he demands nothing from Xie Lian, not even in the way a worshiper might. This type of god-worshiper love is so hard to fit into the mould of a romantic relationship.

Watching it unfold is so beautiful, complex, and fragmented. It's not the innocent love story you would expect, and honestly it's part of the reason why I love their relationship so much.

You rarely see such pure, unadulterated, and selfless love written this perfectly in fiction.

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

Please let Astarion meet Tav's family and have a younger sibling like 6 be like im gonna marry the prince points at Astarion.

Tav : Sorry, im married to the prince

NO IM GONNA MARRY THE PRINCE

That's so fucking cute kill me. But I just realized AFTER I finished it I read this wrong 😭😭 I read it as "marry" instead of "married" so whoops now it's an asking for your hand in marriage fic.

Also, I'm going to make this a weird little, unofficial, alternate reality, off shoot of this fic to explain away why Astarion can be in the sun without ascending because I am ~lazy~

Quick summary if you didn't read it, Tav serves Selune, gets a blessing for all the good work, and uses it to cure the anti-light issue of the vampirism (but not all of it). It's not a literal extension of that fic but I'm stealing my own plot explanations. That's it! Now here we go:

~

Astarion wasn't nervous per se. He was just... on edge. And the two-week journey it took to get here wasn't helping things, not when it gave him so much time to ruminate in his thoughts. He never expected to be in the position of "meeting the family," let alone in anticipation for asking for someone's hand in marriage.

Astarion wasn't even quite sure how his life got here. He had always fantasized that a life without Cazador would be one of selfish hedonism, not one where he would be legitimately concerned about a damn six year old sibling's first impression of him.

But then you came along, effortlessly shattering all of his grandiose plans with a batt of your eyelashes. Perhaps the entire journey of falling in love was more complicated, but it felt like it was that simple. In hindsight, he never stood a chance against you, but it was hilarious that there was a time he ever thought he did.

All of his prior dreams and fantasies felt like nothing in comparison to just being with you. It had been a year since you both saved the Sword Coast, a beautiful, fantastic year. That had ended with him somehow more in love with you now than when he first confessed. Selune's blessing had certainly helped with that he was sure. He still couldn't quite believe that you would use a god's blessing on him of all people, but gods, was he appreciative. Because being able to walk in the sun again meant that he could live the life he wanted, with no restrictions. He could be the partner you deserved, the kind that a father would happily say yes to when asking for your hand.

Which brought him back to his current dilemma. Perhaps he hadn't seen any of your family members in the time you'd been together, but he had heard plenty. You loved them all to death, especially your little sister. You wrote to them constantly, the mere sight of a letter from your parents enough to put you in a great mood for the rest of the day. He was aware that your mother was supposedly a saint, a fact that your own father had instilled in you often. He knew that they had a wonderful, loving marriage and were both higher ups in the Church of Selune. A fact that Astarion didn't particularly enjoy.

As grateful to the moon goddess as he was, he was aware that you were an expectation to the very normal belief that vampires were bad. And that marrying one was one of the stupidest things you could ever do from an average person's perspective, let alone a Selunite.

Why you hadn't done the smart thing and lied about what he was, Astarion would never know. But he did know that the thought of their rejection over his admittedly sordid history was putting him in a tailspin.

"They're going to love you," You said for the hundredth time, giving his hand a squeeze as you led him up the steps to your childhood home, "You have nothing to worry about sweetheart. I promise."

Astarion highly doubted that, but you were already knocking on the front door before he had a chance to argue. The door instantly slammed open, a beaming child already launching themselves at you before Astarion could process what was happening.

But you were more prepared them he was. You effortlessly caught them in your arms, laughing at their excited shouting, "Titi! You're late!"

So this was the famous Arabeth.

"No, I'm not!" You laughed as you settled her on your hip, "And what happened to my little girl's manners huh? You haven't even introduced yourself yet."

The child glanced over at him, like she was just realizing for the first time that someone else was standing over there. She looked a little shocked at the sight of him, staring at him with wide eyes. Wide enough for Astarion to start to wonder if something was on his face.

He gave her a little wave only for her to bury her face into your shoulder, peeking out at him with her lips pursed. Which was not the best start to the whole making his darling's family actually like him plan.

"Well, as you've probably guessed this is Arabeth. She's just a little shy," You reassured as you stepped inside, muttering a quick invitation inside under your breath. He appreciated that, he didn't need the whole house to be reminded of his... limitations.

"But she'll get over it soon enough," You continued as you called into the house, "Mom? Dad? We're here!"

And just like that they were rushing into the room, acting just as excited as your sister had been. Your mother wasted no time in smothering your face with kisses while your father swept you up into a hug. It was a rather impressive display of coordination, considering how they hadn't managed to knock you and your sister to the floor in the process. Astarion was pretty sure they were both saying something along the lines of We missed you! But it was hard to tell with all of you so tangled up in each other.

It was heartwarming to see, in all honestly. Of course such a loving person would come from an equally loving family, what else would he expect?

Though he certainly hadn't been expecting for your mother to throw her arms around him next. She brought him into a tight hug before looking him up and down, "So you're Astarion huh?"

She turned back to you, grinning ear to ear with her hands set on Astarion's shoulders, "He's so handsome! Selune help us, do you remember the last boy you brought home? He had a nose the length of my arm-"

"And that's enough of that," You said with a strained laugh, pulling your eccentric mother back a few inches, "And we've talked about the impromptu hugs. What happened to asking for permission?"

"Sorry, sorry!" She said with a wave of her hand, "Let me try again. I'm Seliras, and this is my husband-"

"Marcoul," Your father interrupted, putting his hand out for Astarion to shake, "It's been awhile since we've met a boyfriend."

"He's a little more than that," You said with a sigh as everyone exchanged pleasantries.

"We'll be the judge of that," Marcoul said with a sharp but friendly grin, the grip he had on Astarion's hand briefly tightening before he let go, "From what we've heard, you're quite the character aren't you?"

Ah, so the interrogating was starting early then. It was nothing that Astarion hadn't expected. Besides, turning up the charm was his strong suit, even when he was uncharacteristically nervous.

Astarion smiled back at him, "You've heard right. And I'm more than happy to answer any questions you might have."

"Oh gods please don't say that," You groaned, but it was too late. Your parents were already leading him to sit, rapid-fire questions coming out of their mouth.

Where are you from? How did you meet? Are you serious about our Tav? What's your religion? Where's your family? What are your plans?

But Astarion answered them all, with only mild censorship for the child's sake. The child who suddenly couldn't stop staring at him. It wasn't exactly easy to sell himself as a future husband when he was a vampiric ex-slave, but he made do.

It was an overwhelming experience to say the least, but not necessarily an unpleasant one. That was one good thing about trying to marry into a family of zealots, it was a lot easier to convince them of your virtue when you received a personal blessing from their goddess.

By the end of the night, they were all throughly appeased, enough so to get off the topic of him for a moment.

"You look a little young to have a thirty-year old child," Astarion said to your mother. He was actively trying to compliment her for obvious reasons, but he was also genuinely curious. She barely looked a day over 40.

"Oh we breed young," She said with a laugh, "We had Tav in our teenage years. Arabeth came much, much later. Our favorite little surprise. Gods, I can't think of a single person in our family who didn't have kids young. Our little Tav is the only exception to the rule."

"But maybe not for much longer, huh?" Marcoul added with a grin, yelping when you lightly smacked him over the head for the comment.

"Do not start the kid talk again!" You hissed out, cheeks red, "We've talked about this!"

Astarion couldn't help but grin at your reaction, charmed by your embarrassment. Though... the idea of the two of you having children together sure was an interesting thought.

Astarion felt a tug on his sleeve while you were distracted arguing with your parents. He turned, smiling when he saw your little sister standing there, still staring at him with wide-eyes.

She took a deep breath before blurting out, "You look like a prince. Are you?"

"Not exactly," Astarion said with a small laugh. That couldn't be further from the truth, "There's no blue blood in my veins."

She frowned, cocking her head at him like he wasn't making any sense. But then an idea obviously struck her as she excitedly asked, "But if you married a princess, then you'd become a prince too. Right?"

"I suppose?" Astarion answered with a shrug.

"So if I become a princess, and I marry you, then you'll be a prince?"

This conversation was quickly becoming out of his depth. But luckily enough for him you were swooping in to save him.

You laughed at her question, turning your attention back to the two of them, "No offense Bethy, but I'm going to be the one marrying this particular prince."

But Arabeth wasn't having it. She crossed her arms, looking at you like she was the one talking to a child, "You can't. Because if I don't marry him, he won't be a prince. So there. I have to do it."

She looked so serious, her facial expressions incredibly similar to your own. Astarion was holding back a loud laugh as you tried and failed to reason with her, "I can marry him without the royal status-"

"No! I'm marrying the prince!"

Your parents were doing a much worse job at hiding their reactions, both of them opening giggling behind their hands as you came up with a compromise.

"Okay, okay," You said with a sigh, kneeling down to look the small girl in the eye, "How about this? I marry him first. But only until you become a princess. Then he's all yours. Sound fair?"

She thought about it for a moment before nodding to herself, "Sounds fair."

Well Astarion wasn't going to get a better set-up then that. He turned to your father, his nerves coming back for a brief appearance, "I'm assuming now might be a good time to ask what I came here to ask. Though I do promise I only intending on asking for one of your children's hand in marriage."

Marcoul nodded slowly, his face unreadable as he spoke, "I mean no offense when I say this Astarion, but you aren't exactly who I imagined for my daughter."

"Dad don't-"

"Darling, let him finish," Astarion gently interrupted, his eyes still locked with your father's.

He took a deep breathe before continuing, "That said, I've never seen her so... herself with someone else before. So yes. The two of you can marry. On one condition."

"Anything," Astarion said instantly, nearly giddy at the fact that he was so close to the official yes, "Just name it."

"You have to have the wedding here," Seliras answered for him, a massive smile on her face, "No ifs, ands, or buts."

"And I get to be flower girl!" Arabeth chimed in, her past indignation completely forgotten as she climbed all over you, "And there has to be chocolate cake!"

"Oh gods, help us," You groaned, but Astarion was already nodding along. He couldn't give less than two shits where it happened or who was involved. He could scarcely believe that it was happening at all. But that was the last thing he had needed.

He already had the ring, the most amazing person he could ever fathom being with. Who actually wanted him back.

Now all he had to do was ask.

[livwritesstuff]

When Steve returns with Hazel from one of her evening dance classes, Hazel is crying.

Eddie hears it from all the way upstairs and she’s still crying when Eddie makes his way down to greet them and sees that Steve is balancing her on one arm as she sobs into the collar of his t-shirt, her little dance bag slung over his other shoulder.

Steve looks like he’s trying very hard to ignore Hazel’s ongoing weeping, which probably means that whatever she’s upset about isn’t exactly a new issue.

“Hazel!” Eddie exclaims, lifting her chin off of Steve’s shoulder so he can get a look at her face, “What’s wrong, baby?”

Hazel doesn’t manage to get out much more than, “Papa didn’t –” before she devolves into blubbering tears again.

“Papa?” Eddie repeats as he pulls Hazel into his arms, “What’d Papa do to my Hazy-Jay that's making her so upset?”

He says it all dramatic and grandiose because it usually makes Hazel laugh. Not today though, and Steve fixes him with a look that says please don’t make this worse than it already is, so…a swing and a miss on all fronts.

Oh well.

“What the hell happened?” he tried again, directing the question at Steve this time (and in his normal voice).

“Uh,” Steve starts, “Yeah, she’s all kinds of mad at me because I didn’t pull over and stop traffic on a highway off-ramp to let a family of ducks cross over to the reservoir.

Eddie blinked.

Okay, so maybe he can sort of understand Steve’s dilemma.

Hazel has always loved animals, but ever since she was tall enough to see out the windshield, she’d become somewhat of a wildlife protection sergeant in the way her eyes were always peeled for little (and not-so-little) critters that could be in need of assistance. It’s not like Eddie hadn’t been braking for animals before, but if there was a turtle on the side of the road, he probably just carefully detoured around it.

Not anymore.

Now they’re pulling over on the side of the road and helping it get across safely, which is fine, obviously. It’s just not always possible, like on the highway at seven o’clock at night.

Their four-and-a-half-year-old daughter might not be able to see the nuance there quite yet.

“So are they…” Eddie trailed off.

“Let’s change the subject, please.”

[tiyoin]

pt 1 | 📍pt 2 | pt 3

“floyd you fucking dick” was all you said when you entered his house. a plastic bag in hand as you looped the car keys around your neck.

the house, bigger than jade’s didn’t have the same aesthetic. instead of presten marble floors, there was black quartz with white streaks and blobs. the house almost reminded you of a deep sea palace instead of a mansion with all it’s colors, architecture, and furniture.

his furniture was all brand new, and there were different family pictures lining the grandiose staircase. mounted in the teal wall were big photos, large photos, and even larger photos.

all leading up to the statement piece of a painted family portrait. from the quick glance in jade’s house, he had one too. yet it was only of him and his wife, while floyd’s was of him, his father, his mother, and jade.

no wife.

“ne, it’s not nice to barge in shrimpy, don’t ya think?” you heard his voice echo from somewhere in the house.

rolling your eyes, your footsteps thundered through the house as you stormed upstairs. you couldn’t help but feel angry. but there were too many things to be angry about. you were angry at floyd for setting this up when he knew about jade. you were angry at his wife, which you shouldn’t be because she’s his wife, which technically makes you the other women. and more than anything, you were angry at jade. for moving on, for doing nothing, for letting her touch him like that…

you clenched and unclenched your hand, now standing in front of the golden lined portrait.

from the looks of it, this was taken years ago, when they were younger. maybe 3 years ago? you weren’t sure. but you were able to make some sharp inferences.

like the ring on jade’s finger, the bags under his eyes, the slight dishevel of his hair.he looked horrible, but to the untrained eye, he looked perfect.

calculating eyes that stared into your soul. it felt like even here he had some kind of hold on you. sly smile, the one he’d get while screwing someone over. and his sharpened jawline only seemed to make the dangerous man all the more siren like.

you lost your grip on your bag, yet that didn’t seem to matter to you as you drank up every flaw, every imperfection the leech brother had. you weren’t sure if you were greedy- after all, you were listing over a married man. yet there was some small part of you that wanted to make sure everything was still there. that he hadn’t changed.

the stray hair in his eyebrow was gone, the slight sneer in his smile was gone- his heterochromia eyes, the thing you loved about him the most- seems almost dull. not full of life and wonder like they were in highschool.

he looked… different.

you frowned.

eyes looking down to the golden plaque on the bottom of the painting. ‘Leech Family’ is what it said, below that it listed all their names.

and yet… “irene is her name”

gasping from shock, you stumbled back towards the painting and saw ja- no, floyd.

floyd was grinning like a sea-urchin as his eyes flicked over your tensed body. “hehe, i forgot how fun you were y/n”

sending his good well, you let your shoulder untighten- only a little bit, as you were in floyd leeches house. alone.

and who knew what would happen.

“what happened to shrimpy?” you fought the cracks in your voice as you cleared your throat, your turn to study him.

you couldn’t tell if he grew taller as he was usually leagues above you in the height department. his hair was still messy, but in a cool, slicked back way… and yet, he wore nothing but red plaid pj pants and an off-white shirt which you knew costed much more than the money you had in your pocket.

his smile sharpened, nothing but pure glee on his features as he stalked closer. “ehh? wasn’t it you who told me to stop calling you that?” he raised his eyebrow in faux thought. even though his finger was tapping against his chin, you could tell from his leering that he wasn’t remotely serious.

“yeah, but that was years ago. and things change”

“like jade?” he stopped once you started craning your head to see him.

“like jade…” you finished softly. unable to meet his unnerving gaze, you ran a hand through your hair, yet every time you tried pushing the strands away from your hair your fingers would get tangled. like a mess of limbs in the sheets-

“heh, shrimpy looks worse than me” his teasing voice softened a bit. although you kept your gaze down, you tried watching his shadow through the floor, tried looking for his reflection-

yet there wasn’t one from how dark, the cold marble was.

a tingle shot through your arms as you felt a large, warm hand on yours. as gently as the merman could, he worked on untangling your hair from your hand. he’d pick at your scalp, caress your locks, even encase his hands over yours.

he’d move your head in every which way as he worked. but he made sure the last view you had was of him, smiling down at you. there was a crinkle on the side of his mouth, one that came with age. yet floyd couldn’t have been past 25. and mermen were known to have fantastic skin.

gripping your wrists, you flinched, eyes looking up towards the crown of your head before returning back to his.

slowly, he lifted them up over your head, his smile never quite waivering. you knew he could sense the internal panic in your bones, the frozen response in your muscles nothing new to him you realized.

thinking about high school days while you were about to get pinned to the wall was counterproductive. gasping a little when your hands made contact with the painting, you stared holes into his exposed collar bone.

he stayed there for a second before he spread your arms. slowly, he lowered them, extended, to your sides. each movement was slow, sensual. intimate.

you shook your heads from the cobwebs.

“eh, seems like you’re in your own little world again” you looked back at his face. the same gleeful expression was still there, yet his teeth were shining through the gaps in his lips.

once he reached your hips he stopped. looking down at you trapped in his gaze.

“i’m glad you’re back y/n” he said, eyes softening just a bit. you could tell he meant it, as someone like floyd was too genuine to lie. too bored to keep up with charades to trick you.

still, you tried budging, tried leaving his grip. yet with every struggle his smile only seemed to grow sharper and grip tighter.

unable to break free from him, you sighed. craning your neck to look at the painting behind you, you stared at him. at jade.

“not sure if i can say the same…”

—

i don’t think you guys understand how devious floyd is in this mini series. cause oh my god. even tho i wrote this as i came up with it, there’s definitely a few itchings of foreshadowing 😝

—

potential tag list? :

@hopefully-not @dmiqueles @ryuuisthecutest @kiwibirdmother

i tagged the people who seemed interested in another part. lmk if you want to be removed/ added

i also think this is trash and a quickly put together scenario but i’ll definitely add, and revamp it at a later time

[dreamgrlarchive]

Dear dream girl, I really want to be my dream girl but I don’t know where to start. I feel unmotivated most of the time and I only get a burst of motivation at like 3 am. I just what to glow and radiate good energy for myself and find/do what I like

Oh, So You Wanna Be a Dream Girl? 🎀

starting your dream girl journey

Congrats on choosing yourself and your tiara; I am so proud. Prepare to not be liked, to be judged, and to stand out. It’s lonely at the top.

*this guide is for starting the process, not reaching the end result because my version of my own dream girl is inevitably different than yours. bare in mind i’m not holding your hand. i’m nudging you in a good direction.

what is a dream girl?

a dream girl is a girl that has finally fallen in love with who she sees in the mirror. she’s the girl that she can depend on. she has her desired look and she’s on the path to self actualization actively. she’s aware of her branding. she holds herself to the standards she holds other to; and they are HIGH. her self worth isn’t contingent upon a love interest, amount of money, or social status. she’s simply that girl.

do some healing.

yes, i said it. healing. like i’ve said before, you cannot put glitter on literal garbage. that’s not even the slightest bit appealing. you’re gonna journal about your childhood, your biggest influences in life, your biggest fears and how you feel life has treated you. this calls for shadow work. shadow working really helped me figure out some of my toxic traits and how some of the things that were considered normal to me as a child have affected me in the long run. you’re also gonna write hypothetical letters to your loved (and not-so-loved) ones, including yourself. let it all out. say everything you want that person to know. around you or not, dead or alive. prepare to clam up, cry, get angry, feel anxious. good. you should. you feel clammy, hot and sometimes pain when your body is fighting off and healing from a physical sickness. now you’re dealing with the developmental, mental, and emotional parts. you’re doing yourself a disservice choosing to stay the same toxic, nasty, mean, or victimized person you’ve always been.

what do you want?

before you can start to even do the smallest improvements, you have to have a clear goal. or else you’ll just be running around in circles (heh) over grandiose blurry wishful thinking. ultimately resulting in you giving up and choosing to be basic bc it’s easier. what do you want out of life? how do you want to be treated? what do you want to do? what makes you happy? and most importantly, how do you want to feel? see, it’s more than just the frills and glitter. you have to know what you’re trying to get to, internally and externally.

grab a diary, adorn it with pretty little details and commit to it. pair it with your fav writing utensil. outline all of your goals. every single last one of them. you can categorize them, scale them from short to long term, easy to hard. it doesn’t matter. do absolutely what you want to do to make a concrete record of your goals that’s digestible for you.

what are you going to do?

*fabulosity by kimora lee simmons*

compare your dream reality to the one you’re currently experiencing. what is she doing that you aren’t? that’s it. do that. anyone can read blogs about the process and other people success stories but those posts aren’t gonna change your life unless you get up and go for what you want. i don’t know what exactly you desire out of life. you do. so you have the instructions for this journey. the first part was easy, this is simple but not nearly as effortless. it’s up to you and not anyone else. you teach others how to treat you. improvements you can make include better: hygiene, self talk/treatment, outward energy, work ethic, discipline, health, consumed content, relationships, looks, habits.

the work

it’s time to apply yourself. get up everyday and actively work towards your goal. be kind to yourself. take yourself to the doctors. get active. eat right. find your passion. DO THE HEALING.

everyone’s journey is SO different so i’m just going to do a quick rundown of the importance of each of the ten facets of your dream girl journey (that build upon each other. ie; looks do not benefit you when your hygiene is insufficient):

*these facets are loosely based on maslow’s hierarchy of needs

health - are you taking care of yourself? please treat yourself how you would your loved ones. you’ll be surprised how physical issues manifest mentally, and vice versa. get adequate sleep. take baby steps if need be. some of these adjustments may be huge to you. be gracious with your journey.

consumed content - everything you engage in is your diet. the company you keep, food you eat, music you enjoy. you get the idea. do you feel light and ready to take on the day? or do you feel drained and sick more often than not. make some adjustments wherever you see necessary.

hygiene - extremely important. stick to a routine for your hygienic needs. you should have rituals you engage in everyday. don’t forget that your health and hygiene go hand in hand. oral and feminine hygiene is so crazily important. please don’t neglect yourself. i talk about my routines in detail here.

habits - daily habits are so crucial to your lifestyle. adjust these and consciously break your bad habits by supplementing your life with equal and opposite habits.

self talk/treatment - simple. be kind to yourself. hold yourself accountable for flaws and mistakes while loving yourself enough to be patient with the journey of improving.

outward energy - be very aware of the vibes you’re permeating. again this is so a huge determination of how you will be treated and how you will live your life.

work ethic/discipline - it’s gonna take serious accountability to escape the desire to stay comfortable. you have to tell yourself that you deserve *your desired end result* so you will *make specific change/adjustment.* it’s that simple (again simple doesn’t mean easy).

relationships - if you don’t like the way you’re treated by those in your life, those relationships need to be reevaluated. you can make some trims on your circle, have some honest conversations, or adjust your behaviors (because sometimes, YOU are the problem).

passion and career - in order to feel fulfilled in life, we all need a purpose. discover yours. incorporate your passion into your daily life.

looks - develop your signature and hone in on it. looks are very important to your perception (self and public). check out this guide to help with this part. however you wanna feel is how you should display yourself.

be a dream girl!

you’ve discovered all the facets of creating your dream self and reality. now it’s time to apply what you’ve learned. start showing up in life in the fashion you want to be seen in.

that’s it! the rest is up to you!

- xoxo, dreamgrlarchive 🎀

[rad-batson]

Damian Wayne: Figure Skater

or: Damian Wayne Fluff Because Damian Wayne Deserves Joy and Happiness <3

Damian Wayne prides himself on being good at everything he does. He never half-asses anything.

Damian has tried tons of different skills before. He’s mastered dozens of martial arts, become fluent in over thirty languages, earned several PhDs, and he’s not even a teenager yet. Why? He needs to be the best or it’s not good enough.

But there are only so many skills that give him the same joy as when he started. Studio art is his favorite and has always been a constant for him, but he’s yet to find something else. Something that truly invigorates him.

At 12, Damian watches the Winter Olympics with Dick. It’s his first ever time viewing the Olympics, and he doesn’t really know what he was expecting, but Damian is…kind of underwhelmed.

Everyone talked about how the Olympics are supposed to be this grandiose display of the world’s talents, but most of it’s pretty boring.

Curling is boring. Alpine is slow and monotonous. Bobsledding is repetitive, and sled dog racing seems unethical.

But then figure skating comes on. And Damian is captivated.

Without even realizing, he moved right in front of the television and watched an hour of figure skating uninterrupted. Dick notices and smiles.

“Aren’t they cool?” Dick asks. Damian, with his eyes still glued to the screen, nods. “Wanna go to the local rink with me and try it out? It’s even more fun than it looks.”

That pulls Damian out of his trance, and he closes himself off. “No. I don’t need to.”

He just thought it was cool, okay? And he totally doesn’t want to try it himself. And he totally isn’t worried that he won’t be good at it and fall like an idiot in front of his older brother if he does.

It’s just that…it’s so cool!!

Damian knows agility, okay? He can do flips and tricks with ease, and he knows how to do it with both grace and poise. But these people? They can do it on ice! With blades on their feet!!

OF COURSE DAMIAN WANTS TO DO COOL TRICKS WITH SHARP BLADES STRAPPED TO HIS FEET

Admittedly, he goes through a two-month-long period of pretending he isn’t dying to try it. He almost completely forgets. Then, by complete coincidence, Cass and Duke invite him to an indoor skating rink, and he caves. Maybe it’s not that hard.

Spoiler: Figure Skating is Hard

Within five seconds, he falls flat on his face. How do people do this? Cass and Duke say it’s normal, but he still refuses to leave the wall the whole time out of shame.

Once they’re home, however, Damian realizes how stupid that was. He’s Damian Wayne Al Ghul. He can’t just give up! What would the rest of his family think?! What if they go back one day, and he just falls flat on his face again? There’s no excuse the second time, and he doesn’t want the others to think he can’t do it.

So that night, he sneaks back into the rink after hours and tries again. And again. And again. And again.

On the fifth try, he is able to make it all the way around the rink. He realizes that he’s distributing his weight wrong. (Stupid mistake, of course. He’s essentially balancing on knives.) That makes it a lot easier, but he’s still flapping his arms around like a bird.

He spends two more hours improving his balance, then decides that’s good enough. He did what he came here to do, and he doesn’t need to come back.

Two days later, he comes back. (I mean, who knows? Maybe, he’s gotten better.) He didn’t, obviously. But what harm is there in spending some more time on the ice? Other than the collection of bruises he acquires.

He falls way more than he’d like to admit, but once he teaches himself how to do that safely, it’s actually kind of fun. He circles the rink countless times, figures out to start and stop (though it is admittedly a very ungraceful way of stopping.) He can even kind of control his speed.

So he’s done, right? He did it! He can now ice skate to a degree that isn’t mortifying for a beginner. He doesn’t need to come back.

The Short Program

One week and four visits later, he admits that he is hooked. He wants to see how far he can go with this. But he can’t just improve without proper guidance, so he decides to take Tim’s advice for once and use the internet.

That’s when he really starts improving. Exponentially. He pours over articles and videos and diagrams about gliding, stopping, pivots, crossovers, and finally some simple spins. Just basics, of course.

He also purchases his own pair of skates because the rental ones he’s been “borrowing” suck. And they smell. And he forges a membership card (you know, so there’s no paper trail.)

His original goal is to make it to free skate level, but once he’s there, he can’t stop. It’s just so gratifying to add another skill to his repertoire. If he can do front crossovers, then he can surely master them backward. Closed Mohawks shouldn’t be that bad if the open Mohawks were so easy. Before he knows it, he’s spending hours every week developing his skills.

After a few months, his improvement plateaus because the jumps prove difficult. He doesn’t know how to build up the speed, and his stealth and fighting techniques (which he’s been borrowing from thus far) just make him wipe out. So he works on that for a bit and tries to figure out what he’s doing wrong.

During a JL meeting, The Flash happens to mention a rogue who used to figure skate. Lisa Snart, or the Golden Glider, is a famous figure skater from the 90s, but she was kicked from the Olympic team due to her life of crime. Now, she jumps between both petty crime and vigilantism.

Damian tracks her down and claims to be researching the sport for a school assignment. Yeah, it’s a bit thin of a cover story. If she wanted to see through his lie, she’d only have to break into his school and check his teacher’s assignment book, but once he laments about how every other skater is busy, and he was so surprised to learn that she was no longer skating when she’s clearly so talented, Lisa happily tells him all of the secrets to the sport.

For a few months, he applies her techniques and even asks her to skate for him a few times, recording her from multiple angles. “I value the quality of my education,” he explains. She sees through the lie but doesn’t say anything. (And somehow, he doesn’t particularly care.)

In the coming year, Bruce notices a change in how Robin moves during patrol. If he had to describe it…well, there’s a lot more power behind his movement. He redistributes his momentum with ease, which proves extremely valuable. There’s more height to his jumps and speed in his attacks. On top of it all, he can reorient himself quicker.

Bruce praises Damian once they’re back at the cave and even allows him more freedom during missions. Damian totally doesn’t cry about it in his room.

The Free Skate

Damian refuses to let anyone watch him practice for YEARS to save his pride. I mean, yes, he’s at free skate level 5—thanks, Lisa—but he’s not at level 6 yet! And that won’t take too long, right? Maybe they can know once he’s mastered his quad axel (which is a totally doable goal. He’s not overachieving. He’s Damian Wayne Al Ghul.)

Next, he works on transitions. At first, he copies other skaters’ forms, then he slowly develops his own. It’s sharp in some ways and fluid in others like he’s been on ice his whole life but he’s got places to be.

At about 15 or 16, he invites Jon to come with him one day. He shows him “a few spins” (triple axels) and Jon immediately starts encouraging him to join some kind of showcase or competition.

Damian’s response is “No! I’m not good enough yet. I still can’t land a quad axel. That’s insulting.”

Cue Jon’s family-friendly “bitch please” face. He says, “Okay, but you need to show someone else. I can’t be the only person in the world who knows.” so they get Billy in on it.

He’s obviously good at keeping secrets, considering he hid his age and the fact he was homeless from the JL for five years.

Billy also loses his shit, but he’s more understanding about the “I don’t want to tell anyone else” thing. Thus, Jon and Billy become Damian’s cover for every time he’s caught sneaking out. (He was running out of excuses anyway.)

Bruce hears that Damian is hanging out with Jon and Billy every week, gives him a look, and tells him he’s proud that he’s making friends.

Damian nods along, thanking all the gods in Billy’s head that his secret is safe. If Bruce doesn’t have any reason to snoop, then he won’t. Simple as that. The greatest detective in the world doesn’t need to start snooping.

During the next Winter Olympics, Damian watches every single skating performance from the comfort of his room. (Tim can hear him yelling at his TV through the walls but doesn’t have the energy to question it.)

Jon and Billy are his cheerleaders. They go out for lunch then head to the rink with him and mess around while Damian practices. Sometimes, they spend all day together. Doing homework, gossiping, playing fun little games.

Damian keeps mentioning the quad axel to them until Jon looks it up and says, “Um, hey Dami? Apparently, the quad axel is like…almost physically impossible. You know that, right?“ “If Lisa Snart and Ilia Malinin can do it, so can I.” “Okay, Mr. PhD.” Still, they don’t doubt him for a second.

Damian teaches them some stuff during a public skate in Fawcett City. Jon cheats multiple times by floating a tiny bit to keep his balance. Billy falls a lot.

As much as he likes being with his friends, though, Damian finds himself skating more to clear his head rather than to improve or socialize.

When he has a bad patrol or gets into some trouble he could have avoided, he’ll sneak into the rink alone and skate for hours.

He’ll pour all of his frustration into the music and carve it out into the ice until he’s exhausted and lying down with the cold surface against his back, letting it sink some sense into him.

It’s a good outlet. Kind of like his art, but there are only so many pencils you can snap in anger before your dad cuts your art supply budget. Bruce doesn’t know about this yet.

Six months later, when Damian lands his first quad axel in front of Jon and Billy, they all scream for five consecutive minutes and celebrate with hot chocolate and sorbet.

“What’s got you in such a good mood?” Tim asks when he’s back home. Damian tries to hide his smile but fails spectacularly. “Oh, nothing.” He’s never had a problem with schooling his emotions before, but anything is possible now. Even a quad fucking axel.

Competition Season

During patrol one day, Dick sees Damian spinning on the roof and says, “Hey, where’d you get those sick ballet moves? Did Black Bat teach you that?” Damian immediately stops and says, “Uh yeah.” Thankfully, Dick doesn’t ask Cass to confirm.

At 17, Jason catches him sneaking out at 10 pm and unknowingly opens an entire can of worms.

Damian, too tired to make a good excuse: “I’m seeing Jon.” Jason: “Like a date?” Damian, dying inside: “…Don’t tell Baba.”

At 18, he’s able to reliably land the quad axel and do it with style. It’s almost more gratifying than punching criminals in the face. (Almost.) That’s when Jon and Billy finally bring up the idea of telling others about it.

Damian is still hesitant, but he thinks about it.

I mean, he’s made a lot of progress in six years, hasn’t he? The only other thing he’s spent so long practicing was his assassin training, then his vigilantism, and his art. But this one is special because it’s just his. (And Jon and Billy. Kinda.) And getting to show off to them is fun, especially when he perfects another element, and they got batshit crazy together over it. That would be nice, wouldn’t it? Having a few more people to mess around with in the rink?

He just doesn’t know if it’ll be impressive enough. After all, his entire family is great at stuff. Bruce is the world’s greatest detective—how he hasn’t learned about this yet, Damian doesn’t know. Dick is a beyond incredible acrobat. Jason has one of the highest proficiencies in marksmanship ever. Tim is the best bo staff user on this side of the Atlantic...

...And Damian can do jumps and tricks on the ice. Wow, cool. Good job, Damian.

But then he’s twelve again. And he’s sitting in front of the TV watching Yuzuru Hanyu and Yuna Kim do triple axels, and Dick is inviting him to try it out together. And Cass and Dick are taking him to the rink because they thought it’d be fun. And Lisa is rambling about how she misses skating competitively. And Bruce is telling him he’s proud of the progress Damian’s made both inside and outside of patrol. And Tim is telling him he looks happier than usual.

He is happier.

Yeah. Maybe, they deserve to know.

He agrees to sign up for a free skate competition. But not one in Gotham. And only a small one. He wants to test out the waters first. They find one that’s a month away, and Damian signs up.

When the day comes, Damian is shaking in his skates. He did not account for a “small competition” still having over two hundred people watching. What the fuck was he thinking?

What Jon and Billy don’t tell him is that they snuck Dick into the crowd to watch. Dick has no idea what he’s doing there until he sees Damian skate out to the middle in a red and grey top with black pants and matching skates.

He performs to Beggin’ by Måneskin and starts the performance out with his quad axel.

Everyone loses their shit.

He looks so genuinely excited when he’s skating. He completely ignores the hundreds of people watching, doesn’t count points. He just jams out to the song until he’s breathless, spinning and gliding and jumping and turning to the beat, mostly showing off to Jon and Billy like he always does.

When it’s over, he just hears this massive crowd of people screaming, and then overtop of it, Dick shouts, “THAT’S MY BABY BROTHER!!” and Damian almost falls flat on his face.

Dick uses the Emergency Group Chat to send a video of Damian skating then screams into the phone to Bruce, who immediately drives out to the rink with the rest of the family, and his siblings make Damian do it over once the place is cleared out because they can’t believe they missed it.

Dick: When did you learn to figure skate?! Damian: After we watched the Olympics together. Dick: You’ve been hiding this for SIX YEARS?!?! Damian: …It looked fun.

Of course, Damian is still the son of Bruce Wayne so tabloids eat it up.

“Damian Wayne: Figure Skating Prodigy” “Wayne Prodigy Wins Gold at Regional Figure Skating Competition, Baffling Judges” “Is Damian Wayne fit to represent the US during the next Winter Olympics??”

A swarm of coaches ask Damian if he would like to skate competitively but he declines. He just likes doing it for fun.

Thankfully, the performance was recorded by the competition holders (after a suspicious request from the CEO of Wayne Enterprises last week. Wow, wonder why)

Leave it to Damian to spend his rebellious phase becoming an Olympic-level athlete.