#there was actually a story i've heard before

[strangeshoepatrolbandit]

Breakup Breakdowns.

Summary: Rafe Cameron has a reputation. Violent and untrustworthy. After some neglected communication, his girlfriend stands up for her worth.

Warnings: Rafe himself, rumors, mentions of a gun, mentions of drugs, unhealthy dynamics, love bombing(?), Barry himself, manipulation, Rafes mood swings, breakup.

This is my first time writing for Rafe. I'm sorry if he's a little OC.

𓇼

Rafe Cameron has had his own fair share of issues that have been present since he was just a boy.

You've heard all of the stories. Beating random Pogues, having bits of rage, and being coked up most of the day. You're familiar.

Despite that, you found yourself wanting to give him the benefit of the doubt.

He was kind to you, acting all sweet, giving you the attention you needed. When asked if he was busy, he'd always reply with "I'm never too busy for you."

Maybe that's what lured you in. The image of what would be the perfect boyfriend for you. The one who would take care of you. The one you would marry.

Rafes act only lasted for just a few months.

Soon, he was missing dates, calling you to say, "I'm sorry, baby."

Even then, calls started to dwindle as well. Now he just left quick text messages while you're in the middle of getting ready. Sometimes it leaves you at home alone, or just going out with friends and pretending like you're fine with plans being rescheduled again.

When he's with you, sitting with his thigh touching yours, he seems out of it, like he's somewhere far away. He's distant. Like always. You don't know where this came from. Maybe this is how it was always destined to be. Maybe it's from that cross you always hear him talk about.

-

A week. It has been an entire week since you have seen your boyfriend, Rafe Cameron. And only a few days since you've talked to him on the phone.

You texted him last night, but got no response.

You heard of some parties around Figure 8, and a big part of you thinks that is where your boyfriend was. You would text Topper if he was still on good terms with Rafe, and you would talk to Sarah if you believed that she actually knew where her brother was.

You woke up early this morning, deciding you were officially done with Rafe Cameron's shenanigans.

Barry's or Tannyhill first? You asked yourself.

Barry's, just to be sure.

The drive felt longer than usual just because of the weight on your heart and shoulders.

You never liked Barry, finding it weird that a grown adult drug dealer was your boyfriends best friend. You've seen how he treats his customers. He's intimidating and manipulative. You feel as if some of it had rubbed off of Rafe.

You closed your car door with a slam, already zeroing in on the man who's outside.

"Heyyy." His smile was almost like a smirk.

"Have you seen Rafe?" You cut to the chase, not wanting to be around the man for longer than you have to be.

"Country club?" Who else? If you didn't know Rafe and Barry, it would sound like he'd suggest that as an idea, but that's just Rafes nickname. "Naw. I haven't seen him since last night."

A laugh escapes the man, like he knows something you don't.

"That's all I needed." You sighed, already getting back into your car.

Barry raises an arm, waving you off for a second, just to get back to licking the blunt he was previously wrapping before you pulled up.

Hopefully Rafe is at home.

Here's another dreadful ride for you.

To the upper north side of Outer Banks you go.

-

When you step into Rafes bedroom, you notice him still sleeping in his bed. He's sleeping on his stomach, one arm under the pillow he's lying on. Even after you knocked.

You grab one of the other pillows that are on Rafes bed, raising it up before hitting him with it a few times, making him groan and jolt.

"What- what? Fuck..." He sighed, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

"I've been calling you." You start off. No 'hello', no 'good morning'. "I've even been texting you."

"I was sleeping." He states, a little annoyed at you for waking him up.

A bitter laugh escaped you. "Well, apparently you weren't when I texted you last night. You were with Barry." Rafe knows how much you dislike Barry.

"He's my friend. What do you want me to say?" He grows defensive, standing up from his bed. He's shirtless, only in his boxers. That leaves you to suspect that he probably stripped after coming home during the early hours of the morning. He looks down at his floor, reaching for the shirt he threw down. You were right.

"Unbelievable." You mumbled, shaking your head as you turned away from him with a huff.

"What the fuck is your problem?" Here we go.

You immediately spin back around in order to face him, pointing a finger. "My problem is you!"

"Me?! What did I do?!" Your voices travel around the room, and if anyone were to pass by, it's clear that an argument is happening inside.

"Hm, I don't know." You reply sarcastically. "Maybe it's the unreturned calls and texts. Maybe it's the fact that I never know where you are. Maybe it's the fact that you're constantly bailing. Maybe it's the fact that you hang out with shitty people."

"Come on-" Rafe puts his hands up, now working on trying to calm you down. Rolling his eyes as he looks to the side.

"Or maybe it's the fact that we only see each other when you need something!" You're definitely not calming down. He needs to be held accountable. "I'm not your therapist!"

Rafe stayed quiet, swallowing whatever was in his mouth. He wouldn't be lying if he said he didn't feel something dark sitting in the back of his mind.

"I'm done!"

"What do you mean by that?" He was on guard now. You just want to leave him?

The two of you stared at each other for a few seconds, right before you turned away from him, throwing open his bedroom door and storming out.

"Hey!" Rafe yelled, following right behind you. "You're just gonna leave? You're being dramatic. Psychooo!"

He dragged out his words, just saying things to try and make you look like you're blowing this out of proportion. It wasn't until you were downstairs and opening the doors to leave his family's home, where it finally caught up to him.

Rafes chest tightened when he felt that familiar sense of abandonment. "Wait- baby, don't leave. Don't leave me!"

He followed you to your car, his eyes stinging the second you climbed I'm and locked the doors.

"Please don't leave! Y/n!" He pulled the driver side handle a few times before realizing he couldn't get in. He put his hands on the windows, staring inside while watching you start your car. "We can talk about this!"

You didn't even wait for your car to warm up before switching out of park and leaving Tannyhill. You, too, felt the tears in your eyes. You loved Rafe, but sometimes you have to put yourself first.

Rafe put his hands on his head, letting his tears fall.

His sadness and fear soon turned to anger. He turned his body quickly, screaming into the air.

"Fuckkk!"

______________________₊ ⊹𐙚

Heyyy, guys...

Like, I've been gone for a while. I may have gone into psychosis and abandoned everything.

Heres a year old draft. Im honestly cringing.

I'm still nowhere near ready to return, my mentality is still fragile. But I understand my struggles and how leaving could have been jarring. I'll speak more of this when I actually continue posting again.

I'm sorry. - Shoe.

[marimayscarlett]

Hello Maria!🌺

You mentioned that once Richard left studio crying after a serious argument with Paul. Could you please share something more? I've never really heard about this. I read there was a fight with fists involved before Richard flew to USA in the early 2000s (presumably between the guitarists), but the source of this was less than unofficial.

Hi 👋🏻

I've read some years ago about Richard and others of the band (apparently Paul being the main opponent) being involved in a verbal conflict during the recording of 'Mutter', which culminated in Richard leaving the studio in tears apparently. I say 'apparently', since I can't manage to rediscover the source of it, and I already combed through the internet and old forums. So take it with a grain of salt, yet I do clearly remember this story.

I doubt that at any point a conflict in the band resulted in violence. Richard himself denied this, yet didn't seem totally opposed to the idea as some sort of an 'equalizer':

Q: How intense do such conflicts get?

Richard: "Well, we’ve never actually come to blows, even though we came close a few times. Honestly, I sometimes even wished for it, because I think a good honest fistfight can sometimes solve things — like in the Wild West. (laughs) But no, that never happened. We always managed to resolve things through communication — the Buddhist way."

(Rolling Stone 2011)

The Mutter conflict put the band through a lot, and the fact that it was brought to the public quite strongly in some interviews didn’t do the band — or Richard in particular — any good. To this day, some fans still place a lot of blame on him and his past behavior still clings to him in some eyes in the form of a reputation as either an egoistic person or a drama queen. I think what matters most now is seeing how well the two guitarists get along these days 🤲🏻

[forestclan-clangen]

Hello! The lore dives are super interesting and i love this story so much. It's amazing!

I do have a question. I've been wondering for a while about the outsider perspective of forestclan. It's been made pretty clear that others think forestclan is a weird ass violent cult and i'd love to learn more about that

I'm actually not 100% sure if I'll do a lore dive on how outsiders view ForestClan, for one reason alone: a part of ForestClan's central plot WILL be how outsiders react to ForestClan as both a perceived threat, AND ForestClan having to prove themselves as a changed group! You'll discover how outsiders perceive ForestClan as time goes on, and how those prejudices result in a lot of conflict between story arcs, including within the Clan itself (Riversnow, Tree and Olive ARE former outsiders, after all!)

For what it's worth though, it's best to remember that before Redstar's leadership, ForestClan held apprentice trials (literally sending apprentices alone in the woods to see if they were "worthy" of apprenticeship), called their leader & medicine cats "secret keepers" and "protectors of secrets", had a literal tyrant as a leader who used to yowl so loudly at her clanmates that outsiders could sometimes HEAR her scream "Go and feed the woods" from across the border, AND apparently speak to their dead ancestors who allow the leaders to die NINE TIMES. If you were just a mere housecat and heard any of this - wouldn't YOU be supernaturally terrified of ForestClan?

Like. If ANY Warrior cats Clan was suddenly discovered by the SCP Foundation, the Foundation would absolutely label a Clan as an SCP. They WOULD have containment procedures for the highly social and intelligent cats that have religion, medicine, and a leader that literally has nine lives.

[stuckinthesprings]

"Oh, I don't mind. As long as it's shotgun and not the driver's seat. Trust me, you do not want that," she promises, gritting her teeth into a momentary grimace for some dramatic flair. "Sure your girlfriend won't mind?" It's absentminded, slipping by without even a second thought. She's been the homewrecker before— probably not as fun when you're not, like, twenty years old with a coke problem, and she's not willing to test that hypothesis at her big age. It's a question that just comes out easy, at this point. A less direct, more fun way of asking what you really wanna know.

Sometimes, taking a chance and talking to someone new makes her feel like she's in Legally Blonde. Except, she's not at Harvard after elbowing her way in, she's in the middle of nowhere after unequivocally fucking up her life, but the sentiment stands. She's nothing but nice, says her piece, and all she gets is a rather rude look of complete befuddlement in return, like she just showed up to a party dressed as a Playboy bunny while everyone else is in fucking business casual. It's a different planet, and one she has no idea how her dad came from. Zelda makes much more sense, especially after sticking around for so many years, but Dad? He knows the city like the back of his hand.

When she was a kid, he used to talk about home in this fantastical way, as if his description were straight out of a book with castles and princesses and all that jazz. Even then, his accent had faded, but he'd put it on just for kicks. Now, it couldn't shine through if it wanted to, but she can still remember. She can hear the accuracy. You ain’t never heard of one of those, huh?

And then he's explaining fucking lawn mower races to her with all the same wit and allure of a bedtime story— not staring at her like she's a big dummy who clearly doesn't belong here. And everything he says is so ridiculous that it's doomed to be interesting, something close to amazement washing her features as she smacks a hand against the table a few several times. "What the fuck? I haaaave to see that," she emphasizes, briefly wondering if anyone ever actually has lost a limb but figuring the answer is either no (snooze) or yes (which, yikes, how do you revive a conversation after that?). She's not as interested in ending this conversation as she originally thought she'd be, is the main thing.

"I'm honestly down for anything new. Feels like I've already seen, like, everything here, even the stupid forest. You think I can steal one of those, actually?" She points to the cigarettes sticking from his pocket with a glittery nail and a simper.

He listens to her talk, the edges of a grin tugging at his mouth again, even as he tries not to let it get too obvious. Hell, maybe it is. There’s something about the way she tells a story, unfiltered, easy, every word spilling out like it’s been waiting its turn. Most folks around here lose that somewhere along the way. Work, bills, years that get quieter as they stack up.

And he’s caught himself, more than once now, wanting to see what else she’s got in that head of hers.

The way she brightens over a busted fair ride and her sister screaming herself hoarse, it damn near pulls a laugh out of him. So, she's got herself a sibling, too. Shouldn't be shocking, and it's not. Not really. Just sets his curiosity to itch, wondering what her life outside of these Springs used to look like. Wonder what her sister looks like, if she was a dead ringer for the girl sat beside him. Lots of folks say he and Frankie were spitting images of each other growing up — same jaw, same eyes, same gotta-help-if-it-kills-me streak as their late father. Huck never did see it. But maybe that’s just how it goes when you're stuck inside your own skin too long.

"If you don’t mind sittin’ up front in a truck that’s got more hay in it than paint on it," he says, voice dropping into that same low, easy murmur, the huff and gruff of his laugh stifled for the moment, "you’ve got the seat." He reaches up, absently plucking at the curl that’s fallen between his eyes, letting it bounce once, twice, watching the way it recoils from his fingers. "First of the season’s in a couple weeks. If you really are interested."

His hand drops, palm brushing his knee, and when he turns to look at her, he catches the tail end of that grin she’s wearing, like she’s already picturing the whole damn thing in her head. He can't help but feel caught a little off guard again by how easy it is to look at her. City girl, finding some kind of joy in the life Huck’s always thought was as dull as a can of beans. Pretty smile.

“You ain’t never heard of one of those, huh?” he says, a little incredulous, and damn if it doesn’t make his grin twitch up at the corners again. He huffs, a dry sound from deep in his chest, fingers drumming across the tops of his knees. “Jesus. Alright. You ever watch NASCAR?” He waits for the flicker in her expression, that spark of recognition. "Now it's that mess, but everybody’s on a... mower. A real mower. Old ride-behinds, push-starts, even a couple zero-turns if somebody’s feelin’ real fancy."

He leans back against the bench, arm draping over the back like they’ve got all night. "Couple of 'em got engines swapped outta junkyard bikes. One year, a guy from two towns over slapped a four-wheeler engine in his and damn near lapped the whole field before it flipped and landed him right into a girl's lap. They'll have been married three years this September." He snorts at the memory, shaking his head. "Mostly it’s just seein’ which fool can stay upright the longest without losin’ a limb."

He tilts his head at her, that dry grin lingering as he scratches at the stubble on his jaw. "It’s real dumb."

[sp-growingpains]

Rowan B. ☆

Its the eldest of the goobers, Rowan Broflovski! He's finally drawn out! I've drawn so little of him, and what a crime that was! Sweet, tired son boy!

Harper | @patchoululi

📓 - As mentioned before, he was the first twin to make an appearance! Absolutely something he will never let Ronnie forget!

📓 - The more introverted of the two. Most of the time he has major resting bitch face, most of the time it is on purpose.

📓 - This does change when he's around Ronnie. It's a very small change, but his brows tend to relax more and he's more likely to smile.

-> This changes more when they're older. He finds himself actually smiling and able to be a goober in public.

-> Ronnie acts a bit like a security blanket for him. That thing when you're with your friend and can just relax because at least someone there gets your sense of humor

📓 - Dry! The most dry humor you could have in a human being! There's a bit of a gallows humor in there, too. Which doesn't always go over well with other people, so he tends to keep to himself.

📓 - While he got Jean's hair, he inherited his dad's nose and eyes. He relates to his father more on personality, too.

-> He didn't really get his father's temper, just that no patience for bullshit attitude. Ronnie tends to pick on him when he tries to give him the stare ™.

"You know you look like Dad when you do that, right? You have no power over me. Put it away."

"I hate you."

"No~ you~ don't~"

-> That being said, the boy struggles with depression at a pretty young age. The tired look isn't always because he's bothered.

-> He's introduced to medication pretty quickly, something Jean is immediately on top of. As he gets older, he stays with his therapist for as long as he can.

📓 - Does very well in school. He has a heavy hand in Ronnie passing any of his classes. Rowan will accept nothing less than perfection. Straight A student the whole time.

📓 - He's got a small phobia of failure. A small compulsive need to be the very best because messing things up stresses him out. He gets caught up in his head over the slightest fuck up.

📓 Hobbies Inclide-

🎸 - Rowan plays bass! He loves music just like his brother! But unlike Ronnie, he doesn't just stop at one instrument.

🎹 - Piano is his guilty pleasure. He loves classical music sure, but just about anything that can be played on those ivory keys puts him at peace. He'll often use this to calm down if he's going through it.

⚾️ - Rowan found himself really enjoying baseball! He likes basketball, too, but only when he's playing with his family. But with baseball, it's his. He doesn't share that with anyone else. A lot of nights when he's supposed to be sleeping spent at the field.

📓 - Writing! Writing! Writing! Oh god does the boy write! Poetry, stories, lyrics, even plays! You name it, Rowan dabbles in it!

⛺️ - And of course, just like Ronnie, he loves camping. It's quiet. Most of the time, it's relaxing. Most of the time, he's alone. No expectations. Just nature and maybe finally getting some sleep.

📓 - He sleeps very poorly. A lot of that comes from that he feels like he's wasting time when he's asleep. Rowan can't accept anything less than perfection as stated above, so that means every moment MUST be dedicated to doing something.

📓 - Most times, you'll find him with his headphones in. He's not shy about it either. He buys the big ones that go over your head so you know he doesn't want to be messed with.

-> That isn't to say he doesn't want the company. He very much does. He's just afraid.

-> Living with depression is hard. Especially when you have your downs. Rowan often feels like he's too much to deal with, so he doesn't let many people get close.

-> That part of him that feels like he needs to be good at everything he does doesn't translate well with social encounters. He often feels he's not as good as Ronnie is, so it stresses him out.

-> Eventually, if he's around you enough, he'll loosen up. It just takes time.

📓 - His relationship with his grandparents is very special to him. As is his relationship with his religion. Rowan keeps to himself about it for the most part. After all, it's his relationship with his religion... no one else's.

📓 - Spends a lot of time with his grandparents, helping them with the holidays and learning as much as he can from them. He loves his grandma Sheila very much.

📓 - As much as Ronnie is a mama's boy, Rowan gets along with their father more. Kyle is one of the few people where Rowan can just be at peace around.

-> So his relationship with Jean isn't rocky, like Ronnie and Kyle's is. It's more like... both of them are walking on ice around each other.

-> There's a lot of times when Rowan feels like he can't compete with Ronnie. He sees how his twin brother and his mother get along so well, and it kind of hurts sometimes.

-> Jean fully blames herself for any and all of Rowan's mental health. She struggles with depression and now her baby boy has it. It's heavy stuff.

-> So these combined insecurities just cause them to dance around one another. But, just like how Rowan had to call his brother out, Ronnie calls him out for it when they're older. Telling him to talk about it and stop holding it in!

📓 - Rowan does, however, think his "Uncle" Stan is the coolest guy ever! He grows up listening to all of those old Crimson Dawn albums. Steals his mom's old shirt and watches every recording.

📓 - Even though Ronnie gets the reputation for being a bit of a flirt. It's Rowan, who's a bit of a heartbreaker. He turns a lot of people down, usually using the excuse that he's too busy. (The real reason is that fear mentioned above.)

📓 - Rowan is demisexual. It's takes him a while to get comfortable with another person, even more so when it comes to romance. Like his twin, he doesn't care what gender you are...it's who you are that matters.

-> He is very protective over his people, though. A very big, protective older brother figure.

-> But when he falls, he crashes. If he catches feelings, that's it. He's done for. There's a tight feeling in his chest, he mistakes for anxiety, and he's a certified fumbler.

📓 - His voice claim is the singer Sawyer Hill! A few of his songs are on Rowan's playlist for a reason!

📓 - He very much wants to be an author when he's older. I definitely share the headcanon that Kyle becomes a professor later on in life, namely English.

-> But I think Rowan puts that to the side when he's a young adult in favor for Ronnie's dreams.

-> It's not something he'll ever bring up to his twin, but Rowan sacrifices a lot of himself for his brother.

-> The whole reason he picked up bass in the first place was FOR Ronnie. The bass is often the instrument that holds the band together, but it takes more of a background role to say, the guitar. Even though he was named after Dio's guitarist.

-> And that idea sort of represents their relationship as a whole. Ronnie relies on Rowan to keep him grounded and put together. While Rowan relies on Ronnie to sometimes take that step into the unknown, to remember to breath.

-> A lot of Rowan's personal story is growing up too fast, and like his brother, finding your own identity in all of it.

-> On a more uplifting side, it's also about accepting that your feelings are valid and depression is a struggle, but you're so very strong for overcoming it. For learning to live with it!

-> Rowan often feels indebted to his brother. For as much as Ronnie thinks he needs Rowan. He feels it to be the other way around.

Hey, once again, thanks for reading this far! I truly adore you, and I'm floored every time I read those kind tags! I hope you enjoyed it and thanks for sticking around! Here's a Playlist for your troubles!

[bookshelf-in-progress]

Once again, I am SO EXCITED to show you guys a retelling, but unfortunately I have to write it first.

[bubblegum-gf]

videos from the gay chicken universe

[queenlucythevaliant]

'Yes, that old oak with which I saw eye to eye was here in this forest,' thought Prince Andrei. 'But whereabouts?' he wondered again, looking at the left side of the road and, without realizing, without recognizing it, admiring the very oak he sought. The old oak, quite transfigured, spread out a canopy of dark, sappy green, and seemed to swoon and sway in the rays of the evening sun. There was nothing to be seen now of knotted fingers and scars, of old doubts and sorrows. Through the rough, century-old bark, even where there were no twigs, leaves had sprouted, so juicy, so young that it was hard to believe that aged veteran had borne them.

'Yes, it is the same oak,' thought Prince Andrei, and all at once he was seized by an irrational, spring-like feeling of joy and renewal. All the best moments of his life of a sudden rose to his memory. Austerlitz, with that lofty sky, the reproachful look on his dead wife's face, Pierre at the ferry, that girl thrilled by the beauty of the night, and that night itself and the moon and ... everything suddenly crowded back into his mind.

'No, life is not over at thirty-one,' Prince Andrei decided all at once, finally and irrevocably. 'It is not enough for me to know what I have in me- everyone else must know it too: Pierre, and that young girl who wanted to fly away into the sky; all of them must learn to know me, in order that my life may not be lived for myself alone.

From War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy

[asleepinawell]

every time i overhead smash something with my giant hammer i imagine it's this pop up

[valiant-portabella-pirkko]

alright, time for some post-beta screens:

Inventor Irvyn - Engineer (Holosmith)

Glaucia Razetalon - Revenant (Renegade)

Postumus Skyslicer - Ranger (Soulbeast)

and a bonus dabbing Ruju that absolutely nobody asked for:

[quaranmine]

If you can't get a friend to go with you, why don't you just go by yourself? It will be fun and I'm certain nothing terrible will happen /j

No but please don't actually go by yourself lmao...

Surely I wouldn't face any problems at all on the sketchy washed out dirt forest service road that everyone in reviews says is closed half the time in an area with more than likely no cell service ??? 😁

[tragicclownwrites]

🤡

[walterdecourceys]

therapy is not the number one cure for anxiety common misconception actually. the real cure is EVERYTHING'S ALRIGHT from JESUS CHRIST SUPERSTAR

[redshiftsinger]

what the fuck what the fuck what the FUUUUUCCCCCKKKKK

What are dead man walking tornadoes? :O

it’s a multi-vortex tornado. i dont remember the tribe it originates from (i think it was cherokee), but there’s a native american legend…? saying? that goes “if you see a man in a tornado, you are about to die.”

the most infamous shot of a dead man walking tornado hit jarrell, texas in 1997

it did so much damage to the town it caused the scale that tornados are measured by, the fijita scale, undergo revisions, and it made anchoring buildings in the tornado alley region pretty much mandatory. (it took the entire town off the map. only those who had taken shelter outside of the town or in underground bunkers survived.)

two more examples of dead man walking tornadoes looking like a person are a tornado from 2011 that hit cullman, alabama

and a tornado from 1975 that hit xenia, ohio

[apatheticsunday]

Dead Serious Arranged Marriage

AKA "Damian al Ghul and the High King of Infinite Realms, Space, and the Dead are married because of some ritual Ra's al Ghul did when Damian was a baby. The Batfam only find out because Damian casually mentions his husband and they're like?? WHAT???" prompt idea!!

Loosely inspired by this post where Billy Batson & Danny Fenton accidentally get married and Billy spills the beans in front of the JL.

I love the idea of Ra's al Ghul knows Danny because of the Lazarus Pit; maybe Ghost King!Danny came to Ra's and was like, "You know unsanctioned resurrection is forbidden, right? You have to submit an Undead Appeal form in the afterlife. I'm gonna have to confiscate your Goop." But Ra's is a master manipulator and gets Danny to agree to a truce... a marriage with his grandson in exchange for continued use of the Lazarus Pit. Don't ask me how it happened; Ra's "wins" either way because his grandson gets married to a High King and he gets to keep his Goop.

(Because Danny's young, okay? Logistically speaking, he's not going to outsmart an immortal cult leader. Maybe sometime down the road Danny gets tired of Ra's talking circles around him and just, like, punches him in the face or something. Makes "Redemption Arc" Dan take care of it. Who knows?)

But for now, Danny is now married to a literal baby. He's confused as hell how this happened. He's like, omg, am I a groomer now?? Am I one of those creepy ancient kings that get married to 12 year old girls?? What the fuckkkk!!! So, he runs to the Ghost Zone. Goes off-world, maybe he gets swept up in Ghost King duties and totally forgets about it. The thing about the Ghost Zone is that the time dilation is different: a couple of days/weeks/months in the Ghost Zone is actual years on Earth. That's why Danny is still so young despite depictions of him going centuries back (time is even messier because he can actually time travel, too, so there may be paintings of him during the Aztec civilization but only because he was there for maybe a week or two.)

This leads to everybody on Earth thinking he's an Ancient Being. Ra's is elated that his grandson, the heir of the League of Assassins, is married to the equivalent of a God (he doesn't know that 99 percent of the time, Danny's lounging on Sam's couch in sweats and eating cheese puffs, watching melodramatic reality TV with Tucker).

And Damian grows up hearing about this legendary marriage, how this Great Ancient Being is his husband, and is... maybe scared? A little angry, resentful? He's had the choice taken from him from before he could even conceptualize it. He was a kid growing up thinking this All Powerful Being was watching his every move, judging him for not being the best like his Grandfather says, and waiting. He trains harder, learns more, maturing faster than anyone his age. And he's still waiting. Because the High King doesn't show up. Not when Damian's four, six, ten, twelve, fourteen. Damian thinks maybe he's not good enough yet despite vastly outdoing even the most seasoned senior assassins in the League.

Danny comes back to Earth and is like, oh, shit, I need to check on my baby!!! Except when he drops in on the League of Assassins, he's met with an angry, resentful, offended Damian al Ghul who's the same age as him. And Damian's met with.... some guy?? What the hell?? This can't be the High King of Infinite Realms, Space, and the Dead, Ancient Being, etc. He's heard so many stories of his husband, spanning centuries of different culture and in varying dead languages.

Needless to say, their introduction doesn't go great. But Danny wants to explain himself and make amends, and Damian's just baffled enough to listen. ("What do you mean, the Undead Siege of The Great Wall wasn't you???" "Yeah, that was the previous Ghost King. I've never risen an army of the dead before.") But as they talk, Damian begrudgingly accepts that his husband is... actually pretty cool (despite the god-awful sweatpants). Danny's recounting his various tales, usurping the previous Ghost King, and Damian even starts to respect Danny.

So, they keep talking. Keep meeting, learning about each other, becoming friends, and eventually becoming more. Damian originally thought Danny was too stupid for words, but quickly realizes that he's a great strategist, knowledgeable about a vast amount of stuff, and is incredibly loyal. Danny thinks Damian's deadpan bluntness is hilarious, understands Damian's pathological need to be the best (courtesy of the Demon Head's traumatic teaching during childhood), and is almost single-mindedly, unconditionally loyal. He's also incredibly petty, which is also hilarious.

Maybe years pass and they're now lovers, Danny sticking around Earth because he's scared if he goes into the Ghost Zone, he'll unintendedly come back when Damian's 90 or something. So, Danny's there when Talia takes Damian aside and says, "Bruce Wayne is your father. I'd like you to train under him before you become the new Demon Head."

Damian goes and Danny follows. When he worries about Tim usurping the title of Heir, Danny's there to say, "You don't make friends by attacking them, Dami! He's your family, not your enemy." The whole "Damian trying to kill Tim" thing doesn't happen. When he worries about disappointing his Father, Danny's saying, "He's your dad. He missed your childhood so he wants to get to know you - just be yourself." Damian doesn't act violently, aggressively, or is offensively provocative; he's still petty, painfully blunt, and exasperatingly self-confident, but he's also honest and thoughtful.

Damian transitions into the Batfam easier with Danny beside him (invisible, only showing himself while in Damian's room or when they're alone). Because Danny wants his husband to feel accepted, appreciated, and get the unconditional love that he never received while living with the LoA.

Let's imagine several months go by and the Batfam are totally comfortable with Damian. He's truly like their annoying younger brother. So, they're at family dinner, maybe Dick is discussing his relationship with Barbara and Steph makes a comment about when are you going to propose already?? Tim and Jason are ribbing him about commitment issues (Bruce is suspiciously silent, likely knowing that if he says something, his kids are going to verbally tear him apart for his Situationship with Selina).

And Damian says, "Many feel apprehensive to marry. I was not, of course, but my husband was very trepidatious."

The whole Batfam are like... what?? What do you mean the youngest kid of the Wayne household is the first to be married?? (Aside from Alfred, who's since divorced.) Is this even legal???

But Damian just continues on, "Perhaps discussing the progression of your relationship with Miss Gordon would be beneficial. Marriage should be consensual." (Damian learned that from Danny, who had offered to null their marriage in the early days. It was a heated conversation, Danny feeling guilty because he'd trapped Damian into this relationship and Damian feeling betrayed because what do you mean you're leaving me? This is unacceptable! They shared their first kiss after realizing neither one wants to end the marriage.)

And the Batfam, as comfortable as they are with Damian, knows he's a little like a feral animal. He doesn't share things about himself often. They don't want to scare him off by prying, even if Bruce is gripping the table cloth, sweating, and is looking pale. Because his child is literally married and God, please don't let it be to one of those old assassins in the League, please. So, Dick just says, "Uh, yeah. That's - thanks, kiddo, that's... a good idea."

Damian continues to make occasional comments about his husband, but nobody knows who it is. He doesn't use Danny's name. And Danny has to leave to do Ghost Stuff (despite being terrified of losing track of time, but Damian's now living with a loving family so he's kind of okay with being dragged off for his Kingly Duties). So, nobody's ever actually seen Danny.

Until the Joker decides to make his mark on the newest addition of the Batfam. He's already killed one Robin, traumatized the hell out of another, and paralyzed Batgirl. He's eager to add another of the Batfam to his roster.

Joker nor the Batfam anticipate the High King of Infinite Realms, Space, and the Dead to straight up portal Joker's ass into Frostbite's territory (aside from Damian because he absolutely knew what was going to go down the second he saw a glowing green aura illuminate the warehouse). One minute Joker is threatening a civilian Damian, whos' still dressed in his Gotham Academy uniform, and the next he's being violently yanked into a massive swirling void of green.

And who steps out? Ghost King Danny, in full kingly attire, including a wreathy crown of white-hot, broadsword hung on his hip, and a skull mask over his face. The Batfam are scrambling to get Damian's chains unlocked and haul him away from whatever-the-fuck that is. They get Damian unlocked, but he just snaps for them to desist your hysteria, Richard, 'that' is my husband.

(Cue the very tense family dinner afterward. Danny's in Damian's sweater and ripped jeans but the Batfam are just squinting at him like, how is this the same as that Thing from the warehouse?? Danny's totally oblivious, holding Damian's hand and saying, "Mr. Wayne, I love your home! The painted ceiling in that one from on the second floor is amazing, the constellations are actually super accurate!" He forgot that the Batfam had no idea he's visited Damian literally hundreds of times since he moved into Wayne Manor. Bruce looks like he's gained several greys in the last hour.)

(Bonus points if at some point Damian can be seen lovingly feeding Cheetos to Eldritch Monster Danny and the Batfam are just like that's... definitely not pants-shittingly terrifying... Bruce tells himself he's just glad his son isn't married to an LoA member.)

[partiallysame]

I'm sorry if this is a weird request, I love your writing a lot and you bring me great comfort, and I've been binging ur stories after my ex cracked me in the face (enjoy jail Ryan)

how do you think poly 141 with a civilian s/o who comes home from work, not expecting them to be home from deployment, with a bloodied lip and black eye, a tear across her forehead that slowly oozes blood. Maybe her own knuckles are bruised and split from where she had fought off the two men who jumped her. Her pants were torn at the knees from where she grappled on the ground. Johnny's jean jacket he let her borrow was nowhere in sight left in dust as she ran for her life.

I love your writing again, I hope ur safe and please eat well and rest ❤️❤️ don't let anyone get away with putting their hands on you.

First and foremost fuck you Ryan rot in jail and hell bitch

The adrenaline had finally started to wear off as you pulled your car into the driveway, only to start to panic again when you realized your husband and your boys were home early. Like two weeks early. You sat in your car for a few moments trying to wipe the blood from your face, your hands, your knees, trying anything to look like what just happened didn’t actually happen. But the second your car pulled in they all made their way out, too excited to see their Missus to wait for her to come inside. Johnny was the first to reach the car, always so eager to see you. You sat still in your car. He tried to open the door but it was still locked. Crouching down to motion for you to open the door, maybe you were on the phone or something and that's why you hadn’t gotten out yet. But as he lowered himself to see you, only to be met with a nightmare sight. 

“Sweet’art open the door.” Voice serious in a way you had never heard before. His hand reached behind him to wave the rest of the men over, not wanting to yell for them and scare you more than you already seemed. You shook your head no. They weren’t supposed to see you like this. You were fine. You made it home, you were safe now, you were gonna fix up all your wounds and be healed before they got home. But here they were trying to coax you out of the car as tears streamed down your face. Fingers slowly pressing the unlock button, both the drivers and passenger side doors were swung open. Johnny reached over you to unbuckle your seatbelt and scooping you up out of the car. 

“Bring me my wife.” It was an order that MacTavish was not going to follow until you were pulled from his arms. “M’sorry’s” poured from your mouth between sobs as you clung to your husband and were brought into the house and set so gently on the kitchen counter, allowing the four men to get a full view of your beaten body. You sat, body shaking slightly from the adrenaline and pain that was starting to set in as they stared. Stared and the dark purple forming around your eye. Staring at the gash across your cheek and your split lip. Drops of blood on your torn shirt, jeans shredded at the knees, wet bloodied fabric stuck to the scrapes on your knees. They were all looking at you so differently. You thought your husband was going to cry, Johnny too. Kyle looked so broken. You had been working so hard for Simon to soften to open up to you and he was, but the look on his face scared you. 

Working in perfect unison the men started to undress you, removing your bloodied clothes. A first aid kit was set next to you as they each took a portion of you to care for. Apologizing when you’d wince at the pain of being cleaned up. Johnny was holding an ice pack up to your eye as Kyle took off his shirt for you to wear. None of them were willing to leave your side long enough to just grab new clothes from down the hall. Another “I’m sorry” fell from you and your husband felt like he was going to snap.

“My Love, please stop apologizing. It’s not yer fault honey. Can ya tell us what happened?” You nodded and recounted how two men had cornered you after work, wanting your purse. How they thought you weren’t handing it over fast enough. 

“But I’m a captain’s wife you know? Not just gonna take it lying down now am I? You should see the other guys.” You tried to joke and motioned to your split knuckles that Simon had so carefully wrapped up for you. 

“Where?” Simon’s voice came out harsh and the men snapped their heads toward him, a warning to calm down. (They’d find who did it later but rn the focus is on their Missus)

“I’m sorry Johnny.” You turned toward the large scot still holding the ice pack. He lowered it because he wanted you to see his face when he told you there was no reason to apologize.

“But I was wearing your jacket. You know the jean one you left for me. The one that smells like you. The one you look so handsome in. It came off and I left it there.” Your breathing picked up again, tears threatening to spill at losing his favorite jacket. You barely finished your confession when he was pulling you into his chest, strong arms feeling so warm and gentle around you.

“Don’ care about a fuckin’ jacket. You came home lovie. That's what I care about.”