#writing so focused
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peachgea · 11 months ago
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cn server... how are you holding up
those christmas/holiday cards have my brain going haywire
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redysetdare · 7 months ago
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enough stories about how someone learns to truely be happy through love. i want a story where someone is desperately seeking out love thinking it's the only way to be happy only for them to learn by the end that happiness is what they make of it and they don't need love at all to make it.
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idiosyncraticrednebula · 10 months ago
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The more "empowered" Disney tries to write their heroines as, the less interesting and charismatic they become, ironically.
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satelliteduster · 2 years ago
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oh my god i forgot to post my absolute favorite strip from gay comix (issue #2, 1981)
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dekariosclan · 10 months ago
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Imagine Gale as a talented and impressive young man, able to compose the Weave at will, skilled in a way that few can match, and favored by the Goddess of Magic herself. Imagine that because of these accomplishments, he’s caught the eye of a few up-and-coming magic adepts, and he falls in love with one of them—his first real love. Gale isn’t one to toss the ‘L’ word around lightly, so when he tells them he loves them, he means it; he gives himself over to them completely.
And in return, they love him for his potential. For his status. For the magic he can command. They love the wizard they see on the surface, but not the man underneath. They are attracted to his power, but not to him.
So of course the relationship fails, after the thrill of his magic wears off. But because Gale is a resilient young man and he’s caught the eye of so many, he soon falls in love with another.
And then it happens again. And again.
And each time Gale’s heart is ravaged, his ambition to become a better wizard grows, because he’s being shown time and time again that his magic ability is all that matters.
So much so that, by the time Mystra decides to elevate him from Favored to Chosen to Lover, he welcomes her with eager, desperate arms. Because if all his worth is in his magic, and that’s all he has to offer, and that’s all anyone wants from him, who better to love him than the Goddess of Magic herself?
Except…there’s a nagging voice in the back of his head that whispers she doesn’t really love him. There’s anxiety in his heart as time passes, and he reaches both the limit of what his talents can do and what Mystra will allow him to do. And most troubling of all: a growing panic that, just like his other lovers, she will soon grow tired of him and discard him if he can’t improve his magic any further.
He tries pouting, and pleading, and begging her to let him take more power, to let him be more for her, but she refuses. Smiles patronizingly. Tells him to be patient. But Gale can’t be patient when his power is tied so closely to his self-worth; he can’t be patient when doing so in the past has only ever lead to heartache.
So he does what he believes will be a Grand Romantic Gesture, one that will finally put him on equal footing with the woman he loves. Instead, it turns out to be a folly that dooms him and destroys his talents. And just as he’d always feared, Mystra tosses him aside the moment his magical gifts are gone—because what’s left of him holds no value for her.
————
Imagine Gale in his tower, alone, afraid, the ever-hungry orb in his chest, with only his tressym there to help him. No other friends to speak of. His colleagues forced to keep away for their own safety. His magical talents utterly stripped down, so that even when he does try and distract himself with illusions, he’s bitterly reminded of what he used to be capable of. Waking every morning wondering if it will be his last, ending every day full of loneliness and disappointment.
…and then he meets Tav.
At the lowest point in his life, at his most vulnerable, when he knows he’s going to be considered a burden, he meets this stranger and their group. So he does what he can to be useful—assigning himself to be camp cook, offering up his (now meager) magic skills, turning the charm up to 11—as he desperately hopes this will somehow work out. He’s pleasantly surprised when, after providing only minor details of his condition, Tav agrees to help him. He’s even more surprised when they actually follow through.
Imagine how Gale feels as Tav treats him kindly. As he grows to trust Tav, and then grows to like them. Imagine his surprise as he opens up and shows them more and more of himself, and they don’t turn him away.
But then his condition worsens. And he has to reveal everything: the foolish mistakes he’s made, and how dangerous he is as a result. He clings to Tav’s hand as he shows them his folly. He’s at their mercy now, and he knows this might be the last time he’ll ever feel the touch of another being, if they decide—and Gods, why wouldn’t they decide?—to cast him out.
…but they don’t. They don’t. Instead, they tell him to stay.
Imagine the relief Gale feels. The gratitude. And perhaps…just a hint of something more. Something that he dare not name, but that flares to life every time he thinks of how warm their hand was in his. Something that feels dangerously close to jealousy, when he’s had too much to drink and sees Tav smiling at another…
But he knows these are all foolish thoughts, because he has nothing to offer Tav. They are wonderful just as they are, but he…he is an empty shell of a man, a discarded husk of a wizard, and while they might tolerate him, he could never believe they might actually want him.
And besides, he still thinks of Mystra. He still longs for Mystra. She who cast him out, but to whom he still feels tethered. Sometimes he needs to cocoon himself in the weave, just to try and calm his fears and bring some joy back to his life, because magic is his life. And sometimes he just needs to see her face, even though that hurts as much as it heals.
One night he’s lost in thought, having conjured Mysta’s image after settling down at camp. Thinking that even if she hadn’t ‘loved’ him—certainly not in the way he’d loved her—she’d given him enough otherwise, hadn’t she? She’d amused him and been amused by him, they’d shared countless pleasures, why hadn’t he been satisfied with that?
Gale is so lost in thought he doesn’t realize Tav has come up behind him. Until they ask a question, startling him out of his trance. He’s a bit shaken, so he tries to turn the conversation from Mystra to the weave itself. And then a wonderful idea occurs to him, something that he’d been toying with already: what if they were to conjure the weave together?
He can show Tav how important magic is to him, let them experience what he does, perhaps even impress them a bit. But most importantly, share a moment with them. As friends would do…
He’s elated when Tav agrees. He leads them through the steps effortlessly, and they’re a surprisingly good student, following his instructions correctly (if a bit clumsily). He’s as excited as they are—perhaps even more so!—when they succeed in channeling the weave.
It’s such a pleasant, familiar feeling for him, like coming home to his tower in Waterdeep. Even as the weave connects him with Tav and makes them one, he’s easily able to hide his innermost thoughts, because he’s done it so many times before.
…but he’s forgotten that Tav has not.
————
Imagine Gale knowing every romantic partner he ever had only wanted him because of how he could raise their status, or how he could amuse them, or how he could command magic for them. And, each time, he was happy to oblige them, even desperate to oblige them, because if that was the price of their love, then he was sure it would be worth it.
But it still all came to nothing.
Now imagine Gale connected in an intimate way with someone he likes very, very much—while being what he considers his lowest, most worthless, and most humbled self. As far from the powerful, impressive wizard he once was as he could ever be. And suddenly a vision enters his mind from the lovely creature standing next to him. Only, to his complete and utter shock, it isn’t one where he is providing them with a service, or wowing them with his magical ability, or granting them some kind of power from one of the spells he commands.
Instead, when he sees their desire laid bare before him, it’s a vision of kissing him. Of holding his hand. The two most basic forms of affection and physical connection. The two things that he would still be able to offer them even if every last ounce of his remaining magical abilities were stripped from him. The two things he could share with them even if he was no longer Gale of Waterdeep, and just plain old Gale Dekarios instead.
Imagine the embarrassment and trepidation he feels at first, because surely he is mistaken?…and then the elation when he realizes that he is not. So much elation that his concentration is broken, the weave dissipating as he forgets about channeling it, as he forgets about Mystra. Because all that matters to him now is the image before him—the most pleasant and welcome image he’s seen in a very, very long time.
Imagine how that would feel…and how besotted, enamored and completely devoted he’d be to Tav afterwards. To know that someone finally—finally—just wants him.
Just imagine.
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lunar-system · 5 months ago
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Edward Teach: The Star.
Adapted from the traditional Ride-Waite-Smith tarot, this version of the Star shows Ed kneeling down serenely by the spring of life, bare to the world, ready to heal after tumultuous events.
Stede as the Sun to follow, Izzy as the Moon can be found here.
Longer exploration of the card's symbolism under the cut.
***
The Star: Hope, openness, especially after a crisis. Renewal, healing, restoration.
Rachel Pollack writes: "This is the calm after a great change, whether it comes after a drastic planetary shift or a personal upheaval. There are still difficult times ahead, but the Star tells us to trust."
In the card Ed is depicted with a short, growing beard. Multiple personal upheavals and great changes have already happened, and he is settling into a new reality. Who is he when he is stripped from titles, uniforms and roles? In the space of the Star, he has enough trust to try and find out.
Pollack continues: "In Star, we find our inner strength and belief. The Star teaches us to accept whatever it is, to drop all our shields, to believe. The water poured out signifies healing, emotional and physical."
Ed as the Star is learning to shine his own light after witnessing Stede shine as the Sun. Trust and belief don't come easy, but as the Star he can be vulnerable enough to try again. The water flows from an infinite source, letting the emotions come and go.
Even though the Star opens up towards a bright future, Ed carries his history with him. His tattoos, pictures from other tarot cards, tell about his past:
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Chest: Three of Swords, the infamous card of heartbreak. "Trust no one."
Left side thigh: the face of the Devil from the Devil card. One of the largest tattoos he has, projecting his self-image. "I'm the devil."
Right side thigh: Lobster from the Moon card, a beast that lurks under the surface, in the unconscious. "I'm the Kraken."
Right side: wolf from the Moon card. In my depiction of the Moon, Izzy stands for the wolf. Here the loyal wolf is cast to the side, left howling after the broken heart.
Belly: Ram from the throne of the Emperor, a symbol of masculine power. The placement on the lower belly suggest a trans reading of the character.
Chest, around the heart: birds from Ace of Cups, suggesting new beginnings even for a broken heart.
With his past carved to his skin, Ed is kneeling at the edge of land. One of his feet is planted firmly on the ground while the other graces the water. In Tarot, earth is often connected to the material, such as the body, and the conscious mind. Water is the element of emotions and the subconscious. At the edge of the water, Ed is in balance, grounded both in his body and in his emotions, the conscious and the subconscious. The water he pours rejuvenates them both.
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TL;DR: After great personal upheavals, Ed as the Star is ready to heal and trust. He carries his past with him, but is ready to shine his own light and have faith in himself and for the future. He is vulnerable and at peace, and he is connected both to the ground and the water, nourishing them both with the water he pours.
***
Sources
Image source: Pamela Colman Smith, 1909, republished as Tarot of A. E. Waite, 2016, AGM-Urania, Germany
Text source: Rachel Pollack, A Journey of 78 Steps, 2011, as cited in the booklet for instruction and guidance of Tarot of A. E. Waite, 2016, AGM-Urania, Germany
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dotssu3 · 3 days ago
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i honestly forgot how to draw dawg wtf
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dragonsareverycool · 7 months ago
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A Brothers Reunion
The small summoning circle lit up, casting a soft green glow, as two eyes watched it with weary hope.
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Two demons argued violently about a soul, and Danny sighed from his spot on the throne that fully claimed him a month ago. While he still found it hilarious how thoroughly this guy managed to swindle so many of the high ranking demons, it had started to cross into annoying territory. Danny was seriously considering making a whole office dedicated specifically to hold all the paperwork one ‘John Constantine’ was seemingly generating with his very presence. Suddenly, Danny felt a soft tug on his core, much gentler then the summoning rituals of all those crazy cultists that keep popping out of nowhere used. More like the circles he gave to Sam Tucker or Jazz. But he could feel the summoner’s emotions, and the poor guy on the other end felt like he was about to cry.
Danny mentally went through everyone he’s given his personal line to. Then, he shot up and called for Fright Knight to send the demons away while Danny quickly allowed himself to be pulled through the summoning circle to where his brother waited anxiously.
——————————————————
The circle flared, and a large eldrich like figure quickly crawled through. Then, a very familiar voice muttered
“Man I wish these things weren’t so dramatic. I already scared the shit out of the justice league because of it” as the being’s form shifted to the more familiar form he took when seeing Damian for the first time in a decade. His white hair looked a little longer now, and his eyes a less toxic green.
“Danyal” Damian said stiffly. Danny looked up, making eye contact with Damian before responding
“Damian” in response Damian lunged, pressing a blade to Danny’s neck before asking a question only Danny could answer.
“What’s the last story you told me?” Danny simply smiled nostalgically,
“There’s the Damian I know. I told you about Canis Minor 16 days before I died the first time.” Damian heasitated before putting away his weapon and paused before he quickly started to hug Danny, who returned the hug.
“… first time?” Damian asked, still in Danny’s arms.
“Mother didn’t tell you what happened to me after, did she?” Danny asked into his twins hair. Damian didn’t even bother to say anything and just turned his head to look at Danny balefully, before Danny sighed and said
“Of course she didn’t. I was dunked into the Lazarus pits, before mother dropped me off in the middle of nowhere America, where she forbade me from ever talking about my old life or ever attempting to contact you.” Damian paused to process this, before saying
“And the second time?” Danny sighed at that, his face set into a grimace. Damian started to move, bringing Danyal over to his bed, where Danny realized Damian had summoned Danny in his room. Damian sat them both onto his bed, and curled further into Danny’s arms, while gesturing to continue.
“I was adopted by a couple who claimed to be ‘ectobiologists’ who already had an older daughter named Jazz. She’s my sister.” Damian nodded solemnly at that, mentally adding ‘Jazz’ to his list of siblings. Danny pulled out his brick of a phone and started showing Damian pictures of his adoptive parents, his sister and everything else as he spoke about it. “They’d been working on a project in their lab since before they adopted me, longer then they’re had Jazz even. When I was fourteen, they finally tried to turn it on. It failed. It was a portal to what they called ‘The Ghost Zone’, but that realm is much more. The Infinite Realms are the glue that holds all universes together, and its a kind of afterlife. They didn’t know half of that, only that some souls of humans who died stay there, and even then, they thought that these ghosts were only a husk of their former selves, and couldn’t feel pain.” Damian started to connect the dots at that and asked
“You’re one of these ghosts?” It was almost a statement, but Damian wasn’t going to make many assumptions. Danny nodded before continuing
“I had two friends who convinced me to show them the failed portal. I walked inside of the portal we assumed was completely defunct, and I tripped over one of the many wires on the floor. When I tried to stabilize myself, I hit the on button.” Damian’s eyes widened, and he froze while Danny paused. After a moment, Danny continued, saying “My adoptive parents had connected the portal to the towns power grid, and the portal opened up on top of me. Electricity and ectoplasm, what ghosts and the Infinite Realms are made of, clashed inside my body, killing me and reviving me repeatedly until the portal finally spit me back out. I only half died that day.” Danny put his phone away and focused on playing with Damian’s hair. Damian reveled in his brothers affectionate touch like when they were small.
“Half?” Damian asks after a minute or two.
“Half. I technically have several ghost forms, and I have a human form” Damian looked up from Danyal’s arms, his eyes asking the obvious question he was a little afraid to ask, though he’d never admit it. Danny smiled at the unasked question, and rings of light formed around him, before dissipating and revealing a very much alive eighteen year old Danyal Nightingale. He grabbed one of Damian’s hands and pressed it against his neck, allowing Damian to revel in feeling his former dead brother’s pulse. Damian tested Danny’s wrist, and put his ear against Danny’s now warm chest.
Damian will deny the appearance of tears to his death, but Danny didn’t say anything, he just held Damian closer. After a while Danyal started to talk about the stars. Filling the silence with quiet but passionate rambling about stars and space. It was familiar. It was safe and warm and then Richard ruined the moment by slamming open Damian’s door yelling about a ‘Family Game Night’ and got a knife for his troubles. Of course he dodged with practiced ease, but then he realized Damian wasn’t alone in his room. Time seemed to freeze at the stand off. Dick had frozen, as the joy on his face seemed to leach away at the realization that there was an intruder.
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writeastorywhere · 2 years ago
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It always grinds my gears when a writer doesn't seem to have any love for human beings. Everyone is inhospitable, or too stupid to function, or too much a stock archetype to develop in any meaningful way. Not because I personally think that human beings are intrinsically good ("good" is a useless designation for real people anyways) but because real human beings have the fucking range.
Most people aren't going to be inhospitable to random strangers, because that's not a useful way to live your life--being needlessly cruel is a good way to get your shit pushed in. If someone is being stupid about one thing, chances are there's something else they know a lot about, because nobody is blanket bad at everything. And of course most people are going to subtly contradict any stock archetypes they're assigned.
That's not to say that people can't be cruel and stupid and predictable; it's just that they're kind and intelligent and chaotic in equal measure, and when I see a writer forgetting that, it frustrates me, because that's good drama you're missing! You could be taking advantage of all that. And what are you doing instead? cheap bullshit. boring asf
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bamsara · 8 months ago
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i miss solar lunacy ngl. it randomly activates in my brain like a sleeper agent and then i go to the word document, write some and then disappear again
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uhbasicallyjustmilex · 2 months ago
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the cutest little bag of nerves 🥺
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varpusvaras · 2 months ago
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Jason always breathed better in the kitchen.
There had been a few rooms in the Manor that had been more or less his. His own room, the library, and the kitchen, at the top of the list. Everyone had quickly learned how much having his own room meant for him, and they had learned to knock and wait for his permission to come in, instead of just barging inside, with loud words and harsh hands. Even Dick respected the quietness of the library, and if Jason had been in there, reading, no one had dared to disturb him, at least most of the time.
Still, Jason's favorite place had been the kitchen.
Maybe because Bruce and Dick had been squarely banned from ever coming in, giving Jason a space to go to if he truly wanted to be left alone by them. Maybe because that was where Alfred was, and Alfred was always safe, with no reason or intention to lecture Jason or argue with him. Maybe because in the kitchen, with the cupboards and the fridge full, and a cup of tea always ready for him, no matter the time of day, Jason had felt like everything would be alright the most.
There was no Alfred in the Queen family kitchen, it was open for everyone in the house, and there was no tea.
Still, Jason felt a little better as he leaned against the counter and breathed.
He could still hear the others in the house, somewhere, and if Jason really concentrated, he could, for a moment, delude himself into thinking that if he just stayed in the kitchen, he would cease to exist for the rest of them for the time being.
Not that Jason...wanted them to forget him, but it was easier that way, just for a moment. In a moment, Jason would be able to come out of the kitchen, and the day would continue like normal, and Jason could again pretend that he belonged there.
Jason breathed in. Lian and Mia had baked snickerdoodles earlier, and the kitchen still smelled like warm sugar and cinnamon. Jason imagined that they would go great with tea. Everything went great with tea. There were teacups in a cabinet on one of the kitchen walls. They didn't have the same pattern as the ones Alfred always used. The ones in the Manor had a golden rim and a red ribbon around them, and Jason had always been terrified to touch them. The cups in the cabinet had teal flowers on them, and they looked like they hadn't been touched in a long time.
There wasn't an Alfred in this kitchen, after all.
God, Jason missed Alfred.
He missed the kitchen in the Manor, with Alfred in it, Alfred who would not lecture him or argue with him, Alfred who always had a cup of tea for him, no matter the time of the day.
If Jason could just magically appear in the kitchen and skip the rest of the Manor, he would go there in a blink of an eye.
But he could not.
So not kitchen with Alfred and tea in it for him.
Jason breathed. Warm sugar and cinnamon. Teacups with teal flowers. Voices somewhere in the house.
How much longer it would take, to him to not have this either?
They haven't kicked you out yet, a hopeful voice in his head told him. They haven't told Roy to not bring you with him, either. That has to mean something.
Bruce also offered Jason help, once, Jason reminded the voice. And that Jason had said no.
But you haven't said no yet, the voice pointed out. You haven't said no a single time Roy has asked you to come here with him.
No, Jason admitted. He hadn't.
But it didn't mean anything.
Sooner or later, they would realise that Jason was not one of them. That there was no place for him here.
Just like Jason had realised that he wasn't part of the family anymore.
They wouldn't, the hopeful voice said. Look, Roy is happy here, he can come here, despite-
No, Jason shut the voice down. Do not bring Roy into this. Roy was sick and hurting. Roy needed help. Nothing about it was Roy's fault. Don't you dare compare yourself to Roy ever again.
The voice understood what was good for it and stayed quiet.
Jason breathed. Warm sugard and cinnamon. Teacups with teal flowers. Voices somewhere in the house.
Jason, in the kitchen, desperate the follow the voices.
Jason breathed. Warm sugar and cinnamon. Teacups with teal flowers. Footsteps, coming towards the kitchen.
Jason snapped his head around, tearing his eyes of the cabinet with the teacups.
Oliver stepped into the kitchen.
"There you are", he said, like seeing Jason in the kitchen was something he had hoped for. "Dinah is taking pictures."
Jason could not decipher the way Oliver had said the latter words.
"Yeah?" He said. "Roy said so."
All the kids were in the house, and Dinah wanted to take pictures with them all in it, to update the photowall in the living room. Roy had jokingly complained about it when he had mentioned it to Jason earlier, in a way that made it clear that Roy didn't actually mind sitting down and posing for the camera with the others. That he actually liked it, having his picture taken with his family in said picture with him.
Roy had left to fetch Lian, in order to make sure that she would be presentable for said pictures, and that had been Jason's cue to leave. To find somewhere that would be just for him for the time being.
Of course, the kitchen here was not the same as the kitchen in the Manor. It was not a place just for Jason. Jason had known that.
Oliver raised his brow, and Jason felt, for a slip second, like he was fourteen again, standing in the Manor's kitchen instead of this one.
"Yeah?" Oliver said back to him. "Chop-chop, everybody's waiting. Lian wants to have more cookies, and Roy promised her those after dinner, and Dinah wants to take the pictures before that."
Jason blinked.
"Oh", he said, because his brain was suddenly empty, and he couldn't think of anything else to say.
Oliver looked at him for a few seconds longer. There was something softer in the way he looked at Jason, now, like Jason, standing in the kitchen by himself, was something to be given softness.
Then Oliver stepped closer, and threw an arm around Jason's shoulders, like it was the most normal thing of him to do, and he dragged Jason out of the kitchen.
Jason tried not to think too much about how good it felt.
Everybody was gathered in the music room, which Jason knew most of the pictures already on the wall were taken in. It wasn't used much for playing music anymore, and it had the best lighting during most of the day, as far as Jason had understood from the house tour he had gotten when he had visited the house for the first time. The couch, which usually sat against the wall nex to the window, had been dragged to the middle of the room.
Roy, Lian, Mia and Connor were already sitting down, with Dinah standing next to the camera, checking the settings on it. She paused when she heard Oliver and Jason coming in.
"And there's the rest of them", she said, giving Jason a quick smile. "Jason, sit next to Lian, so she's between you and Roy."
Lian grinned at that, and quickly scooted closer to Roy, and she patted the empty space next to her eagerly.
Jason nodded, a little numbly. Connor scooted closer to Mia as he made his way towards the couch, giving Jason more room to sit down, and he sat on the edge of the couch, resisting the urge to clench his fists.
Lian leaned lightly against him.
"Jayjay, come closer", she said, wrapping her hands around Jason's forearm and tugging. She had lately started calling him just Jay more often than Jayjay, like she had when she had been a bit younger, and Jason immediately relented. He shifted closer to her, situating himself a bit more properly onto the couch, instead of right on the edge of the seat.
There was weight again on his shoulders, where Oliver's arm had been the whole way from the kitchen to the music room. Roy had thrown his arm over Lian's head and onto Jason's shoulders, boxing him in with them.
It was grounding, the weight of Roy and Lian, both pressing against him, the presence of Connor and Mia just on the other side.
Jason breathed in.
He dared to look over at Dinah, who was still adjusting something on the camera.
"This would be much easier to do with a phone", Mia said.
"We can take more pictures with a phone later", Dinah said. "I want a good-quality one for the wall, especially since this is the first one with the whole family in it."
Jason blinked.
There was a lump of something, in his throat, and the breathed around it.
Roy tapped him lightly on the shoulder, and Jason turned to look at him.
Roy didn't say anything. He just looked at Jason, with a gentle smile on his face, the one he used every time he wanted to say that everything was alright without using any words.
Lian slid one of her hands into Jason's and wrapped her fingers around Jason's. She squeezed.
Jason squeezed back.
"Okay!" Dinah said. "Everybody look alive."
She and Oliver moved to the couch as well, with Dinah coming to stand next to Mia, while Oliver made his way behind the couch. Jason watched him pat Roy on the shoulder, and Roy hummed happily under his breath. It was a nice sound, and Jason savoured it.
Roy was looking at the camera, and Jason turned to look towards it as well. Roy squeezed his shoulders, and Jason felt him lean a little closer to him.
"Smile, Jaybird", Roy whispered, his own smile still evident in his voice.
Jason breathed. Roy's arm was a comfortable weight on his shoulders, Lian's hand the same in his hand, and in that moment, Jason could make himself truly believe that he belonged, right there.
Jason breathed, and smiled.
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thorough-witness-enjoyer · 23 days ago
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(Small, frivolous rant incoming, apologies)
One thing I wish the Destiny fandom did more of was dabble in the utter horror this universe holds, especially when it comes to portraying the vile atrocities committed by many of the cosmic level characters.
Destiny‘s T rating holds it back so much in my opinion (but it still manages to lay down excellent foundations for horror and more mature themes!!) and I really wish there was more fan works that explored the unimaginable tragedies that occur in lore!!
When you really dwell on the scale of many of the disasters that happen in lore, it really dawns on you just how sinister and monstrous many of the larger villains are. Antagonists like Eramis are much more grounded, certainly not saints though, but some of the antagonists we have encounter are truly odious in their behaviors, even if they are deluded into thinking what they are doing is correct (like the Osmium siblings ravaging whole star systems in pursuit of the sword).
For example, it’s no secret that I LOATHE the Witness like no other. This wicked entity has me fighting bile at the mere thought of it and I truly think the way it delivers cruelty with such a sense of compassion and righteousness to be the most stomach wrenching form of being baneful. I could not think of an entitlement more deplorable than the Witness‘ and it’s existence is a travesty that has caused irreparable harm that spans EONS.
Yet, in my experience, I never see much content that taps into the horrors experienced by those touched by the Witness and its pawns, such as the Noesis and humanity during the collapse. There are INCREDIBLE artistic and written works that tap into the psychological horrors of exos and the unethical hell Clovis was putting people through, but not as many on the more cosmic horrors from what I have seen!!
This may just be a me thing and the personal reasons why I want the Witness put under a hydraulic press speaking, but I often see plenty of depictions of the Witness being uncharacteristically soft and having deeper feelings towards its disciples, but works about its vengeful rage, simple mindedness, violation of the autonomy of others, and predatory grooming are quite barren.
I wish to see just how HEINOUS it is displayed in all its turpitude and how it leaves a festering rot on everything and everyone it touches. I love the Witness because it is so evil in it‘s actions and my heart SINGS any time I see people tap into the trauma it causes, especially for characters like Rhulk or Savathûn!!
There is so much room for exploring just how vast the Destiny universe is when you decenter perpetrators in stories and focus on the incomprehensible number of victims.
Destiny genuinely has a character running around with the title „The Final God of Pain“ haunting people and refusing to permanently die, but there is only so much a T rated game can do and I feel like Destiny enjoyers can go beyond what’s in game in such creative ways!! Just thinking of the fall of Torobatl has me going „Wow, I’m actually so sick to my stomach, I need to honor Caiatl and really capture the pain of such an event!“
The latest lore on the Qugu? My chest HURTS.
Some of the hive experimentations? The hive in general? Hell is not hot enough for what the Witness lead them into.
But you know what they say, be the change you want to see in the world! Create the content you want to enjoy and promote the content you do enjoy!! I wish to dabble into the darker areas of lore, and of course, promote Witness hatred any chance I get!! Hopefully I get more time to write about these things and really value the work the Destiny writers have put into portraying such strong feelings of loss time and time again!!
And also!! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE read The Garden‘s Witness by Titanmaster_117 !!! ESPECIALLY THE FIRST CHAPTER, I COULD RANT ABOUT THIS BEAUTIFUL PIECE OF PROSE ALL DAY, IT GENUINELY MADE ME CRY!! PROMOTE THE CONTENT YOU ENJOY ALL DAY, EVERYDAY!!
But this is just something I’ve been thinking for some time now. This isn’t condemning anyone in the fandom or saying there is an issue, just a desire I would love to see (and hopefully fulfill if I ever get back into writing for Destiny!) If you guys have any recommendations for Destiny works that are horrific, focus on themes of loss and devastation, or hate on the Witness, feel free to mention them so other people can find them!!
Not enough Witness hate going around for my liking… this looks like a job for me.
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physicallyimprobable · 6 months ago
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what's the 3-dimensional number thing?
Well I'm glad you asked! For those confused, this is referring to my claim that "my favorite multiplication equation is 3 × 5 = 15 because it's the reason you can't make a three-dimensional number system" from back in this post. Now, this is gonna be a bit of a journey, so buckle up.
Part One: Numbers in Space
First of all, what do I mean by a three-dimensional number system? We say that the complex numbers are two-dimensional, and that the quaternions are four-dimensional, but what do we mean by these things? There's a few potential answers to this question, but for our purposes we'll take the following narrative:
Complex numbers can be written in the form (a+bi), where a and b are real numbers. For the variable-averse, this just means we have things like (3+6i) and (5-2i) and (-8+3i). Some amount of "units" (that is, ones), and some amount of i's.
Most people are happy to stop here and say "well, there's two numbers that you're using, so that's two dimensions, ho hum". I think that's underselling it, though, since there's something nontrivial and super cool happening here. See, each complex number has an "absolute value", which is its distance from zero. If you imagine "3+6i" to mean "three meters East and six meters North", then the distance to that point will be 6.708 meters. We say the absolute value of (3+6i), which is written like |3+6i|, is equal to 6.708. Similarly, interpreting "5-2i" to mean "five meters East and two meters South" we get that |5-2i| = 5.385.
The neat thing about this is that absolute values multiply really nicely. For example, the two numbers above multiply to give (3+6i) × (5-2i) = (27+24i) which has a length of 36.124. What's impressive is that this length is the product of our original lengths: 36.124 = 6.708 × 5.385. (Okay technically this is not true due to rounding but for the full values it is true.)
This is what we're going to say is necessary to for a number system to accurately represent a space. You need the numbers to have lengths corresponding to actual lengths in space, and you need those lengths to be "multiplicative", which just means it does the thing we just saw. (That is, when you multiply two numbers, their lengths are multiplied as well.)
There's still of course the question of what "actual lengths in space" means, but we can just use the usual Euclidean method of measurement. So, |3+6i| = √(3²+6²) and |5-2i| = √(5²+2²). This extends directly to the quaternions, which are written as (a+bi+cj+dk) for real numbers a, b, c, d. (Don't worry about what j and k mean if you don't know; it turns out not to really matter here.) The length of the quaternion 4+3i-7j+4k can be calculated like |4+3i-7j+4k| = √(4²+3²+7²+4²) = 9.486 and similarly for other points in "four-dimensional space". These are the kinds of number systems we're looking for.
[To be explicit, for those who know the words: What we are looking for is a vector algebra over the real numbers with a prescribed basis under which the Euclidean norm is multiplicative and the integer lattice forms a subring.]
Part Two: Sums of Squares
Now for something completely different. Have you ever thought about which numbers are the sum of two perfect squares? Thirteen works, for example, since 13 = 3² + 2². So does thirty-two, since 32 = 4² + 4². The squares themselves also work, since zero exists: 49 = 7² + 0². But there are some numbers, like three and six, which can't be written as a sum of two squares no matter how hard you try. (It's pretty easy to check this yourself; there aren't too many possibilities.)
Are there any patterns to which numbers are a sum of two squares and which are not? Yeah, loads. We're going to look at a particularly interesting one: Let's say a number is "S2" if it's a sum of two squares. (This thing where you just kinda invent new terminology for your situation is common in math. "S2" should be thought of as an adjective, like "orange" or "alphabetical".) Then here's the neat thing: If two numbers are S2 then their product is S2 as well.
Let's see a few small examples. We have 2 = 1² + 1², so we say that 2 is S2. Similarly 4 = 2² + 0² is S2. Then 2 × 4, that is to say, 8, should be S2 as well. Indeed, 8 = 2² + 2².
Another, slightly less trivial example. We've seen that 13 and 32 are both S2. Then their product, 416, should also be S2. Lo and behold, 416 = 20² + 4², so indeed it is S2.
How do we know this will always work? The simplest way, as long as you've already internalized the bit from Part 1 about absolute values, is to think about the norms of complex numbers. A norm is, quite simply, the square of the corresponding distance. (Okay yes it can also mean different things in other contexts, but for our purposes that's what a norm is.) The norm is written with double bars, so ‖3+6i‖ = 45 and ‖5-2i‖ = 29 and ‖4+3i-7j+4k‖ = 90.
One thing to notice is that if your starting numbers are whole numbers then the norm will also be a whole number. In fact, because of how we've defined lengths, the norm is just the sum of the squares of the real-number bits. So, any S2 number can be turned into a norm of a complex number: 13 can be written as ‖3+2i‖, 32 can be written as ‖4+4i‖, and 49 can be written as ‖7+0i‖.
The other thing to notice is that, since the absolute value is multiplicative, the norm is also multiplicative. That is to say, for example, ‖(3+6i) × (5-2i)‖ = ‖3+6i‖ × ‖5-2i‖. It's pretty simple to prove that this will work with any numbers you choose.
But lo, gaze upon what happens when we combine these two facts together! Consider the two S2 values 13 and 32 from before. Because of the first fact, we can write the product 13 × 32 in terms of norms: 13 × 32 = ‖3+2i‖ × ‖4+4i‖. So far so good. Then, using the second fact, we can pull the product into the norms: ‖3+2i‖ × ‖4+4i‖ = ‖(3+2i) × (4+4i)‖. Huzzah! Now, if we write out the multiplication as (3+2i) × (4+4i) = (4+20i), we can get a more natural looking norm equation: ‖3+2i‖ × ‖4+4i‖ = ‖4+20i‖ and finally, all we need to do is evaluate the norms to get our product! (3² + 2²) × (4² + 4²) = (4² + 20²)
The cool thing is that this works no matter what your starting numbers are. 218 = 13² + 7² and 292 = 16² + 6², so we can follow the chain to get 218 × 292 = ‖13+7i‖ × ‖16+6i‖ = ‖(13+7i) × (16+6i)‖ = ‖166+190i‖ = 166² + 190² and indeed you can check that both extremes are equal to 63,656. No matter which two S2 numbers you start with, if you know the squares that make them up, you can use this process to find squares that add to their product. That is to say, the product of two S2 numbers is S2.
Part Four: Why do we skip three?
Now we have all the ingredients we need for our cute little proof soup! First, let's hop to the quaternions and their norm. As you should hopefully remember, quaternions have four terms (some number of units, some number of i's, some number of j's, and some number of k's), so a quaternion norm will be a sum of four squares. For example, ‖4+3i-7j+4k‖ = 90 means 90 = 4² + 3² + 7² + 4².
Since we referred to sums of two squares as S2, let's say the sums of four squares are S4. 90 is S4 because it can be written as we did above. Similarly, 7 is S4 because 7 = 2² + 1² + 1² + 1², and 22 is S4 because 22 = 4² + 2² + 1² + 1². We are of course still allowed to use zeros; 6 = 2² + 1² + 1² + 0² is S4, as is our friend 13 = 3² + 2² + 0² + 0².
The same fact from the S2 numbers still applies here: since 7 is S4 and 6 is S4, we know that 42 (the product of 7 and 6) is S4. Indeed, after a bit of fiddling I've found that 42 = 6² + 4² + 1² + 1². I don't need to do that fiddling, however, if I happen to be able to calculate quaternions! All I need to do is follow the chain, just like before: 7 × 6 = ‖2+i+j+k‖ × ‖2+i+j‖ = ‖(2+i+j+k) × (2+i+j)‖ = ‖2+3i+5j+2k‖ = 2² + 3² + 5² + 2². This is a different solution than the one I found earlier, but that's fine! As long as there's even one solution, 42 will be S4. Using the same logic, it should be clear that the product of any two S4 numbers is an S4 number.
Now, what goes wrong with three dimensions? Well, as you might have guessed, it has to do with S3 numbers, that is, numbers which can be written as a sum of three squares. If we had any three-dimensional number system, we'd be able to use the strategy we're now familiar with to prove that any product of S3 numbers is an S3 number. This would be fine, except, well…
3 × 5 = 15.
Why is this bad? See, 3 = 1² + 1² + 1² and 5 = 2² + 1² + 0², so both 3 and 5 are S3. However, you can check without too much trouble that 15 is not S3; no matter how hard you try, you can't write 15 as a sum of three squares.
And, well, that's it. The bucket has been kicked, the nails are in the coffin. You cannot make a three-dimensional number system with the kind of nice norm that the complex numbers and quaternions have. Even if someone comes to you excitedly, claiming to have figured it out, you can just toss them through these steps: • First, ask what the basis is. Complex numbers use 1 and i; quaternions use 1, i, j, and k. Let's say they answer with p, q, and r. • Second, ask them to multiply (p+q+r) by (2p+q). • Finally, well. If their system works, the resulting number should give you three numbers whose squares add to 15. Since that can't happen, you've shown that the norm is not actually multiplicative; their system doesn't capture the geometry of three dimensions.
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wolfjackle-creates · 2 months ago
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I took part in the Demon Twins Who Wrote That game over on the Haunting Heroes DPxDC server and author reveals were today. So now I can finally post the fic I wrote for it!
No Place Left to Hide
Danny is on the run. He wants nothing more than to see his family, but they're out of his reach at the moment. Then he sees a magazine article and accompanying photo of Damian Wayne. His long-lost twin brother. Maybe he does have some family he can check on. Just to spy from a distance, of course. Getting too close would only make his situation worse. But when he gets caught in the halls of Gotham Academy, he might not have a choice in the matter.
AO3 Link
Word Count: 3.1k
Rating: T
Warning: a trans Danny mentions his deadname to Damian
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Danny stared down at Gotham Academy. Damian was just inside those walls. All he’d have to do was go intangible and he’d be able to see his twin for the first time in eight years. The thought made his core ache, a throbbing that echoed in his still-healing injuries.
He was descending before ever consciously making the choice to actually see his brother.
It was stupid. What if Damian caught him? Told Talia, or worse, Ra’s? Then it wouldn’t just be the Fentons and the GIW after him, but also the League of Assassins. And he was already injured.
But he had to see. He hadn’t seen Damian in years. Had lived half his life without his twin at this point.
He should leave. He shouldn’t be here at all.
A moment later, he’d phased through the roof and floated invisibly in the middle of a locker-lined hallway. He allowed gravity to once more take control of him and his feet settled on the linoleum floor.
Now, to find Damian. Just to see him, make sure he was safe. The rest of his family were out of his reach; the GIW was monitoring them too closely for Danny to risk visiting. Or even just check in from a distance. And Danny’s core was demanding he check on his loved ones.
He’d been debating risking a visit to them regardless of the risk when he saw the magazine article: Wayne Boy Volunteers at Animal Shelter. The attached picture brought a smile to Danny’s face. One of the few genuine smiles he’d worn since being forced on the run. In it, Damian was glaring at the camera, but his arms were gentle as he cradled a puppy. Behind him stood Bruce Wayne, grinning widely. In the article, Bruce talked about how proud he was of his youngest son and his big heart. Back when they’d been with the League, Danny had been the only one to know of Damian’s gentleness.
Reading the article, seeing the picture had healed something in Danny. Damian had gotten out. Something he’d thought impossible when he left half a lifetime ago.
And now he was here to confirm it. To check on the twin he’d left behind. Make sure he was healthy and safe and happy. He’d never seen Damian be any of those things before. Not beyond fleeting moments carved out in secret.
Though… He looked around the empty hallway and bit his lip. The school was huge and he had no idea what Damian’s schedule looked like. Where should he even start?
Footsteps echoed down the hall and Danny instinctively moved to the side to let whomever it was pass.
Only to feel a hand grip his shoulder.
Danny just barely kept himself from twisting and throwing a punch at the person. He wasn’t able stop himself from jumping a foot in the air, though. And if he hung in the air a bit longer than gravity should’ve allowed, well, Danny could only hope the person gripping his arm didn’t notice.
“Wayne, why are you in the hallways out of uniform rather than in your class?”
Danny blinked in surprise. “What?” he asked. This guy couldn’t actually have mistaken him for Damian, could he have? They weren’t identical twins. They didn’t even have the same skin tone!
Though Danny did suppose he’d gotten more tanned lately. Being on the run meant he was spending much more time outside than normal and he always did tan pretty well, one thing to thank Talia for he supposed.
The hall monitor rolled his eyes. “Where are you supposed to be right now?”
Danny opened his mouth, then shut it again. Should he disappear? But what if the teacher reported it? Would the GIW come to investigate? Would Damian, growing up around Lazarus pits, ping on their sensors?
He stayed put and he stayed silent.
The teacher sniffed and pulled out his phone. After tapping a bit, he announced, “History with Mr. Binder. I’ll accompany you back and we will be contacting your father about this behavior.”
He grabbed Danny’s shoulder again and marched him through the hallways. Danny allowed it, not sure what else to do. And still so desperate to see his brother.
When they reached what must be Damian’s classroom, the man knocked once, then pushed the door open.
“Sorry for the interruption, Mr. Binder. But I found one of your students wandering the hallways.”
Danny had barely glanced inside the classroom when his eyes fell on Damian. Everything else fell away. He didn’t see the other kids, didn’t hear Mr. Binder’s response. All he could see was Damian.
Even sitting, it was clear Damian was taller than Danny. His hair was shorter, his muscles more defined. And he was holding his pencil like it was a dagger he was going to throw through Danny’s throat.
Danny grinned and, speaking a language he’d barely used in eight years, said, “It’s been a long time, brother.”
Damian’s eyes narrowed further, but he kept his posture relaxed. Except for his grip on his pencil. “You’re no brother of mine. Who are you?” asked Damian, also in Arabic.
Danny clutched his hands to his chest. “How could you not remember me?” he wailed. But he couldn’t keep up the feigned offense for more than a second and grinned. “Though, I suppose you did used to call me sister. A lot’s changed in eight years, brother. Liat died in the league; I go by Danny now.”
At Danny’s mention of his deadname, the pencil fell from Damian’s hands. The sound of it hitting the floor was loud in the otherwise silent room. But when Damian spoke, his voice was steady. “Prove it.”
Danny inclined his head in a mock bow. “If you insist,” he said, switching to English. “The sun did not shine, it was too wet to play. So we sat in the house, all that cold, cold, wet day.”
Damian stood, sending his chair tumbling to the floor. “Enough!”
Danny obediently stopped reciting and grinned at Damian.
Damian hated The Cat in the Hat. Danny had heard it when he’d been sent to a daycare on one of his first missions to slip a child a mild poison that’d leave her sick for a few days and a letter for her father, a man who’d been planning to betray the league.
Danny had fallen in love. He’d smuggled the book out with him when he’d finished his task. The idea of a cat in a hat coming to the league and causing a bit of destruction helped him withstand the endless trainings and trials. Besides, their grandfather and mother deserved it. And Damian just didn’t see.
Though now Danny realized that was because Damian had never been allowed to glimpse what life could be outside the League. Danny, on the other hand, had been trained in spying and infiltration. Which meant he had to understand how kids his age worked and thought and acted. So he had to be around them with some regularity.
What he’d learned was that he wanted their lives, not his own. A lesson he tried, and failed, to teach Damian.
Before either Damian or Danny could think of something to say to each other, the History teacher cleared his throat. “Damian, what is going on here?”
Damian immediately stood to attention, just as Talia had taught him. “I apologize for the intrusion. My… brother came for an unexpected visit. May we be excused to the office so I can call my father?”
“I wasn’t aware you had another sibling your age,” said the teacher with a raised eyebrow.
“He’s from my mother’s side,” said Damian.
Danny hummed. True enough, he supposed. They did share a biological mother. Even if Danny refused to ever acknowledge her as such ever again.
He really didn’t have much luck with mother figures, did he? Maddie had turned out to be just as bad as Talia.
In the end, the teacher really didn’t have a choice but to let them go. Though the hall monitor who had caught Danny insisted on accompanying them all the way to the office despite Damian’s protests that he knew the way.
Danny hid a scowl at the situation. He’d had no intentions of meeting Bruce Wayne and now it looked like he’d either have to reveal his powers and run or meet his biological father. His core ached at the thought of leaving Damian, though. And he couldn’t risk letting Ra’s or Talia find out about his powers.
He ignored the longing he felt at the potential for a true family, for a father who loved him unconditionally. He was zero for three on parental figures. No way was he going to try for a fourth.
“How are you here?” asked Damian in Arabic as they walked.
Danny shrugged and answered in the same language. “Didn’t have anywhere else to be. Saw you in a magazine and figured I’d check in.”
“In a—” Damian cut off with a noise of frustration. “I thought you were dead. Did Mother put you in a pit?”
“As far as I’m aware, both Talia and Ra’s are also under the impression I am dead-dead. Though now that we’ve had contact, I don’t suppose that will last much longer.”
“How did you survive?” demanded Damian.
Danny stared ahead and bit his lip. After a moment, he said, “I did try and take you with me, you know. You were the only thing I regretted leaving behind.”
The resulting silence lasted until they reached the front office. Danny didn’t know how to break it.
They were instructed to sit in plush seats facing the office staff where they could be observed as Damian spoke to their his dad.
Damian pulled out his phone, but before he dialed, asked, “How did you get caught? Have you forgotten all your training?”
Danny didn’t bother to try and hide his blush. He’d been relying on his powers and must’ve let his invisibility drop by mistake. It was just…he’d been on the run for almost two months now. He was hungry and tired and in pain. If Jazz knew, she’d scold him for neglecting himself. He should’ve expected something like this would happen the moment he got distracted.
But how to explain that without explaining everything? “The last few months have been hard,” he settled on. “Due to certain circumstances, I am no longer welcome at the place I’ve called home the last few years and had to leave suddenly. Thus, I am not currently at optimal physical health. I grew careless.”
Damian frowned and looked down at his phone. Rather than answer, he opened his contacts and dialed the one labeled “Father.”
Danny probably should be more cautious. He probably shouldn’t trust Damian. But this was his brother. The only good thing from his early childhood.
And he was so, so tired.
Danny let himself slump against Damian’s side. Damian tensed for just a moment before he relaxed.
“Hello, Father,” said Damian into the phone.
Danny let his eyes drift shut as he listened to Damian’s side of the conversation.
“No. I am well. But there’s been a situation.”
Danny snorted at that description, and Damian pinched his thigh.
“It is not something I can explain over the phone, but I need to be picked up from school. Immediately.”
Bruce Wayne’s voice was just indistinct enough that Danny had a hard time understanding it, though he could hear the worry in it.
“It is a family matter. You will wish to be here quickly as there is a strong possibility we will not have the chance again.”
“Think I’m that good, do you?” huffed Danny under his breath. Damian just pinched him again with a tut.
“Could you stop and pick up a smoothie on your way in? With extra protein powder?”
Danny’s breath caught. Was Damian asking on his behalf? It’d been so long since he’d been around Jazz or his friends. He hadn’t had anyone look out for his wellbeing in months.
He screwed his eyes tight against the burning and focused on keeping his breathing steady.
The rest of Damian’s conversation consisted of stilted goodbyes and promises of explanations once they got home.
Despite his apprehension at meeting Bruce, sitting in a comfortable chair leaning against his brother after months of being on edge was enough for him to slip into a shallow doze. Damian would keep him safe. Whatever disagreements they’d had as children, that had been a constant. Danny was vaguely aware of the office staff talking and making noises. Damian’s shoulder shifted slightly as he did something on his phone. But Danny was more asleep than awake.
Until Damian tensed and shrugged his shoulder. “Father’s here,” he whispered in Arabic.
Danny was instantly awake, though he kept his posture relaxed. Bruce Wayne was someone who had attracted the attention of Talia al Ghul. Whatever face he presented to the public had to be a lie, and Danny didn’t know what to expect from him.
One thing Danny did know, though, was that he refused to go back to who he’d been with the league. The formality was so exhausting. And his very core rebelled at the thought of going back to a life of violence and suffering. He’d left to be a regular American kid, and that was what Bruce Wayne would meet.
Maybe his second death made that life impossible, but while he still had breath in his lungs and a heart that beat, he was going to cling to the dream.
So, rather than follow Damian’s lead and sit up straight and formal, Danny stretched his arms up and yawned loudly. “Ope, sorry for falling asleep there on you Dami,” he said in his strongest Midwestern accent.
Damian shot him a look, but didn’t respond. Still, when he stood, he offered a hand to Danny to help him up as well.
Danny grinned as he took it. Then he took a fortifying breath and turned to face Bruce Wayne, his biological father.
Bruce stared at him, face blank. His eyes lingered on where Danny still clasped Damian’s hand. To his disappointment, Damian let go at the look.
The stern look only lasted seconds before Bruce smiled broadly and his body language became relaxed and open. “You must be a friend of Damian’s! I take it this is for you?” He held out the smoothie for Danny.
Danny hesitated. His stomach ached with hunger, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. This was his biological father.
Damian misunderstood his hesitation and grabbed the smoothie himself. He took a deep swallow and in Arabic said, “It is safe, brother.”
If Danny hadn’t been staring so intently at Bruce, he would’ve missed the small twitch the man made at the word “brother.”
Danny grabbed the smoothie and took a long drink. He couldn’t stop the quiet sigh at the taste. It was the best thing he’d had in weeks. “So, what’s the plan?”
“I’m parked right out front! Let me just sign you both out and we can be on our way.”
“Oh, you just have to sign out Damian. I’m not a student.”
“Well, I suppose that explains the lack of a uniform! How do you know my Damian, then?”
“Father,” hissed Damian. In Arabic he said, “I will explain what I can in the car as I promised.”
Danny just took another sip of his smoothie and remained silent.
Bruce’s eyes flicked to Danny, gaze sharp. But he remained relaxed and ruffled Damian’s hair. “Of course, of course.”
Damian glared at him as he smoothed his hair back down.
Bruce laughed with the office staff and signed the requisite paperwork, then the three were making their way outside.
The car out front was a fancy sports car. Danny hesitated a moment before entering. He glanced down in both directions, but knew a school like this would have too many cameras to hide from.
And now that he had Damian in front of him, he was certain his core would protest if he tried to leave.
Damian made a sharp gesture to him, ordering him into the car. Danny slid in. The door shut behind him. He gripped his smoothie with both hands to mask their shaking and took another sip.
“Father,” started Damian. “This is…” he broke off.
“Yes?” prompted Bruce after a moment.
“This is my twin brother, Danny. Your other biological son.”
Bruce froze. Danny didn’t even think he was breathing. One hand rested on the gear stick where he’d been planning to put the car in drive, the other dug into his own leg.
“What.” Bruce’s voice was hard and flat, not a hint of the jovial man from the office.
“In his defense,” said Danny. “He thought I was his twin sister. And that I was dead.”
Bruce’s eyes closed and he took several deep breaths. “Your name is Danny?”
“Yep.” Danny popped the p. “Chose it myself six years ago.”
“It’s…a good name.”
“Thanks! It was my dad’s dad’s name.”
“Your dad?” asked Bruce.
Danny hummed. “Yeah. Got myself adopted after I ran away from Talia and Ra’s. But that living situation fell through a few months ago.” Which, really, understatement of the century, but Danny wasn’t going to go into it. “So I had to leave. Thought I’d check up on Damian. Mind if I come over to visit after Damian gets out of school for the next few days? I’ve got a hotel room lined up in the city,” he lied. Squatting was way easier when you were half-ghost.
Damian broke in at that. “You will be staying with us, not in some hotel,” he spat the last word. “And not just for a few days. Live with us.”
“Can’t stay more than a few days, I’m afraid.” The GIW or his parents would definitely find him if he did. “But if no one minds, I won’t turn down a room if you’ve got a spare.”
“Father’s house is large,” said Damian. “There are plenty of spare rooms.”
“Damian is right,” said Bruce. “I insist you stay with us. We can discuss more over lunch when we’re comfortable.”
Danny shrugged. “If you insist.” He’d disappear, of course. Too risky to stay and lead the GIW to Damian when he still wasn’t sure of the connection between ectoplasm and the Lazarus pits.
Bruce let out a long sigh and put the car in gear. “I do,” was all he said.
Danny watched the scenery go by, pretending not to notice the two pairs of eyes glued to him.
After several long minutes of uncomfortable silence, Bruce spoke again. “I am glad to meet you, Danny. I’m happy you came to Gotham.”
Danny hummed. He supposed time would tell if any of them would come to regret it.
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Hope you enjoy!
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jjkyaoi · 3 months ago
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people on twitter are pissing me off about their takes on izuku. “he doesn’t have his quirk anymore, he didn’t get his girlfriend, his friends don’t talk to him, he works a nine to five, he’s a LOSER!!!! 🫵” first of all. he was always going to lose one for all. even if it was years and years in the future, just like all might, the embers would’ve eventually faded. and you’re conveniently looking past the fact that at the very end they make a point of saying he’s going to become a hero again. even as a quirkless one. so what???? you’re just a powerscaling dudebro and upset that he isn’t your mega strong #GOAT anymore?? second of all, im sick of you guys just assigning ochako’s only worth as being izuku’s girlfriend. get her name out of your mouth. third of all, the comment about his friends directly translated to/basically meant that it’s HARDER for izuku to get to see them because of their conflicting schedules. not that they don’t see him at all. you don’t think that ochako, one of
izuku’s best friends, would make an effort to see him?? iida??? KATSUKI??????????? you really thought they’d just ghost him? come on now. and he really really loves working at UA. you are more upset about him not being able to be a hero than he is. i get that it seems unfair and abrupt, but that is not the end. you are conveniently ignoring the fact that HE IS GOING TO BE A QUIRKLESS HERO QUIT REACHING FORBTJINGS TO BE UPSET ABOUT!!!!OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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