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#but this is the gist

when-a-humble-bard · 10 months

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Here’s the thing about Radovid. He’s not stupid.

He wants people to believe he is. He wants people to believe he is gullible and in over his head. He wants people to think they can manipulate him. But he’s not actually stupid.

And I want for Jaskier so bad to have a love that loves him back. But Radovid is not stupid, and he definitely got Jaskier away from Ciri.

#Witcher #the witcher #jaskier #radovid #I have many more thoughts on this #but this is the gist #I’m side-eyeing radovid hard

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variousqueerthings · 4 months

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I think often about rose as a linchpin for the tenth doctor's Being from the doctor's perspective -- that is, you push away all the sorrow and ptsd and fucked up past, and live through someone else's joy and excitement, and that happens to be a mayfly, and you know it's a mayfly, and when that mayfly is gone, you fall to pieces even more spectacularly the second time around, and thus we get... the doctor's cycle in the first combined era of nu!who

but from rose's perspective that ending doesn't get explored in the text, because rose gets left behind (three times, the third for good)

take a young girl who's just about given in to an unexciting life in which she is considered unexceptional -- kind, honest, brash, brave, but none of that is important in this world -- who is swept up into something fantastic, has a magical being create itself -- and in some ways create the universe via the journeys it takes her on -- around her, and know that if she isn't there anymore this being may not be able to cope, and she has an inkling that this day will come, she has several very blunt reminders that this day will come, but she ignores it and how it will affect her and the being, and ignores (or forgets or exists with a cognitive dissonance about the fact) that this being isn't human and perceives reality in a way that is so materially different from her that it could (it has once before by changing its face, twice if you then count the sarah-jane narrative) twist her reality into an entirely different shape that she wouldn't be able to recognise, even become some version of self that perhaps isn't made for her anymore, that this is a blink of an eye for it...

how that changes a person, how it makes her feel special but only if this fragile reality that they inhabit is treated very very gently, how it could (if it had gone on for long enough) have made her something not-quite-human herself, how it was in the process of pulling her away from her family, from the values she once had, from even being able to perceive where she came from and what life is for most people, and she's spinning and spinning on and on so as not to see what's coming up around her, inevitably, and there are no words in the world that she possesses to frame all of this awe and terror and changing through other than "love" that must be the word, because how else can something so big be encompassed by her?

and then to have that stripped away in an instant, but with enough left over that she claws her way back, only to find that the being did it again -- it twisted reality into a new shape, and said "this version of me is even better and I am no longer able to be for you, but take this better me instead," without giving her time to consider, to make a real choice, to even be able to fully comprehend what the new reality is and what her choice would mean. and that's the end, except for the way she's a ghost to that being now, just a story

which is why I'm revolving rose tyler's narrative around in my head forever, like a fairytale with an ending that's eerie enough that you're not sure that and then they lived happily ever after is warranted

#rose tyler #doctor who #dw #i have a much longer post in my drafts about her #but this is the gist #it's so important that the doctor models himself for her the second time around it's sooooo messy and interesting

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dateamonster · 10 months

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because i feel like if i keep answering those i should provide some context, heres a quick rundown on the scifi cyberpunkish concept im goofin around with at the moment:

in a near future already largely under corporate control a company called sunco rapidly becomes one of the major tech powerhouses after bringing the world back from the brink of devastating ecological disaster and energy crisis with its bountiful solar energy solutions. they save the world but as a result are able to replace massive amounts of pre existing technology with their various smart devices and lobby to override the already flimsy data privacy laws so that everything from cellphones to doorbells becomes a potential way for the company to spy on its expansive worldwide userbase.

years later, a spy specializing in corporate espionage is hired by a member of the antitek resistance movement to steal back the Ghost of her dead partner, whom she believes was killed because he discovered something sunco either wanted to know or wanted to keep quiet. the spy goes undercover in the office of one of sunco's subsidiaries and very unintentionally attracts the attention of the companys pet prodigy, a young woman who was adopted and raised from childhood to manage sunco's advanced computer learning division.

after a fateful confrontation, a reverse kidnapping, and a car chase through the desert, the pair end up on the run together.

#its very very much in first draft mode #i might change some names and stuff later idek #but this is the gist #ungodly screeching #kind of off topic but i figure enough ppl on here might appreciate anyway #plus u know theres gonna be some of that fun existential ai and cyborg shit later on

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natjennie · 1 year

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no you're absolutely right to question it and i was hoping someone would ask.

so this has to come with a disclaimer because i love the witcher a lot but as far as knowledge goes? i've seen the netflix show, the first season like 3 times and the second season only once, and i've read a good deal of fan fiction. that's it. so you'll have to work with the fact that that's all i've got for canon understanding on the witcher end of things. on the ofmd end of things? i'm. a lot more confident.

anyway! ed and stede are very similar characters when you get down to it. when you think about themes of abandonment and solitude and loneliness and longing and survival, they're extremely similar, so i'm not actually that opposed to flipping the roles. but, what matters to me is looking at where they start versus where they're going.

it's easy to look at geralt as a strong powerful monster hunter who's this famed hero that everyone loves and fears in equal measure: you'd want to slap ed on there.

but that's like. not really who he is. especially not before jaskier. geralt is a loner, he's done things differently his whole life, he's ridiculed and mocked and ostracized from civilization. he's not a powerful mythical figure, he's a weird wet horse guy who sleeps in the swamp. but we can call him to get the rats out of the inn sometimes.

and jaskier's background isn't really shown in the show but i know he went to a top school, he's brilliant and clever, he's a viscount. again, easy to paint stede in that role, right? i get it.

but he's bored and lonely and looking for inspiration and just so happens to come upon something different. something real. for once. so he drops everything and attaches himself to geralt's hip and drags himself through the mud and the muck, walking while geralt gets to ride, just to be a part of his story.

sound like someone we know?

and then there's the little things! the silly small character details that make them who they are.

stede's kind of a cunt! he's kind of selfish sometimes. he doesn't think highly enough of himself to believe people care about him, which gets them hurt in the process. hello?? geralt?

and ed's a poet! hes a theater kid, he sings, he writes lyrics. in canon. he wants to be able to slow down and appreciate life and live a little instead of being bound to duty and stede is just getting started.

and i hate this comparison bc they're both both in my opinion but. it's like stede:autism:geralt and ed:adhd:jaskier.

also! geralt is actually a wicked nice guy. like he cares so much about humanity and about other people and he wants them to be safe and happy and assumes that doesn't include him. he takes on missions no one would dare he doesn't hesitate to go back into the fire if it means saving someone else. very stedelike behavior if i do say so myself.

and jaskier is living on the edge he's got a name to spread an image to build a reputation to uphold. he's a scoundrel and a rapscallion and he's fucked and fucked over more people in this specific village than you could count.

and if you think about their experiences with violence! stede raised a sword against izzy. he doesn't resort to violence and he doesn't like it but he's not afraid of it anymore when it comes. he's ready and willing to look it in the eye to make things right and protect his crew. geralt.

and ed on the other hand hasn't killed anyone in decades. outsources the final blow. he deceives and tricks to get around it. jaskier.

stede adored plants and animals, he knows all about teas and moths and flowers. ed hates nature. geralt and jaskier.

geralt leaves jaskier on that mountain. jaskier gets depressed and writes a meltdown breakup song (burn butcher burn). i mean. in canon stede leaves ed on that dock and he gets depressed and writes a meltdown breakup song (life's a hard sad death).

i mean i could go on. but basically i think it's fine to do it the other way, i get it. i just think that's a really basic and uninspired reading of both shows. i think if you really dig into the core of the characters, it's much more interesting and pertinent to map stede as geralt and ed as jaskier.

#this went wicked long #and i still dont know if i said everything i wanted to say #but this is the gist #ofmd #the witcher #edit: i bolded the key parts so it should be easier to read

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yesterdaysnewts · 2 years

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aright saf fandom this was, and frankly still is, a big post about an au i had but im impatient and want to share it so im dumping this at your feet and running off

an saf x pacrim au where Curt and Owen are jaeger pilots but then Owen 'dies' so Curt quits. The end of days draw near and Curt discovers that Owen hadn't died but became a scientist for the PPDC

#I have this massive long post in my drafts #and its not even done #and its so much more complicated than this #but this is the gist #spies are forever #saf #spies are forever au #saf au #agent curt mega #owen carvour

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laurencin-draws · 1 year

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Hi! Absolutely adore your art, especially how you draw hair! Do you have any tips on how to draw it or a tutorial perhaps?

thank you very much!! I don't really know how to do a tutorial on it because so much of it is just like... go crazy go stupid, but the basic idea is that you want to locate the hairline and the way the hair parts on your undersketch. from there you look at your reference material and try to discern how the hair would have to fall in order to create the shapes it does, and then you just kinda... do your best to recreate those patterns! It takes awhile to get the hang of it, but breaking it down into its parts like that helps for me. i'll try to put together some pictures for a tutorial when i get a chance!

#i actually kind of struggle with hair a lot bc im very particular about it #and hair for me is the part that gets changed the most between concept and final #but this is the gist

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mymanymerrymuses · 4 months

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Some info about Kagari's Hazbin Hotel au, because design decisions got kind of made and I'm excited.

He's forced into the role of Hound more literally, since his new Sinner form is very reminiscent of a Shiba Inu. He's embraced this as much as he can, renaming himself 'Four'. He was 'Hound 4' in life, and if he can't escape what the world made him, why not go all in?

There's also a slight look of smoke about him, with his death having left pretty much nothing behind, Kagari almost seems to be evaporating, smoke coming off of him and rising up.

Much to his own disappointment, having new, fluffy ears on top his head did not make his hearing any better. Kagari is still pretty much entirely deaf. He can sign, and he's pretty good at lip reading (not always helpful in hell, where some people don't even HAVE lips and other people's mouths are SIDEWAYS), but without hearing aids, he can't hear a thing.

He is still a short king, 5'5 with his ears and hair spikeys, and he's still definitely chaotic. Granted, his new 'freedom' is a lot more limited than he would like.

#guard dog extraordinaire (kagari)#my merry me (ooc)#Some design features may change #But this is the gist

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red-hood-vigilante · 1 month

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s1 is just. i love you grainy unfocused shots of cemeteries and foggy roads no one travels. i love you john’s journal as a bible. i love you sam driving the impala casually with dean sleeping in the passenger seat. i love you dark motels with neon signs and dusty libraries with huge lore books. i love you side character serving as a mirror to the winchesters. i love you cleaning guns and wounds and sharpening of knives and gas stations and flip phones and laptop stickers. i love you small towns where time stands still with something unknowable and hungry lurking in the shadows. i love you angry psychic kid sam and dean trying his best with a leather jacket too big for him. i love you looming presences of john and mary. i love you homemade and flawed equipment. i love you horror and tragedy and blood. i love you dramatic lighting and silhouettes. i love you folklore and local legends. i love you -

#supernatural #sam winchester #dean winchester #HELP I'M DOWN SO BAD RN #iben spoke #spn2024 #there's so much more i could add to this. but that's the gist of it

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mybro-oncesaid · 7 months

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"Frankly, the pigeons here scare me. They look like your typical corrupted power hungry Chinese old man."

#my BRO once said #i forgot what exactly she said #but this is the gist #noted with thanks bro #i did not need to know the thoughts plaguing you about those innocent birds #but you do you!

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buggachat · 5 months

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does anyone else form their headcanons of marinette and adrien largely on the basis of "they have to be opposite each other"? like, creation and destruction, yin and yang, etc. like Marinette being late all the time and sleeping through her alarms? so she's probably a deep sleeper? So that means, by the laws of my lovesquare headcanons according to my brain, Adrien has to be a light sleeper. Marinette is a chaotic creative person and I can imagine her just having so much STUFF all around and living in organized chaos. so therefore Adrien likes his spaces neat and clear. (also something something creation and clutter vs destruction and emptiness) you know??? ???? ? adrien and marinette headcanons just cant be independent of each other in my brain. they are always intrinsically linked

#not to say they have to have opposite Opinions or Values or anything. just. personality traits and quirks #the more meaningless the headcanon the mroe they have to be opposite in me brain #adrien is a morning person so marinette is not. adrien picks at his food when stressed so marinette stress eats.#adrien drinks his coffee sweet in my brain so therefore marinette drinks hers unsweetened. this is the law #marinette tosses and turns at night so adrien sleeps stiff as a board #YOU KNOW!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!? not necessarily having all the same headcanons as me but the gist of being opposites

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foldingfittedsheets · 10 months

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So one thing I’ve noticed is that people’s DnD characters may vary but there is usually an underlying thread that they all have in common. This thread is typically related to what that person struggles with the most.

For instance, my betrotheds DnD characters: a bitchy warlock we had to bust out of two different pacts, a sassy barbarian, a reformed drow cultist, and a sunshine fighter cleric.

All these characters were wildly different but at their very core struggle was them grappling with their self worth. My betrothed struggles with their worth a great deal and even with different facets showing their characters all have that too.

Mine all tend to contend with different themes of loneliness and acceptance. Surprise, surprise, the little autistic gremlin yearns to have been met with more love and lasting friendships.

So we’re at breakfast. I am meeting a new friend of my betrotheds for the first time. It’s been twenty minutes since I’ve met this man. I say my theory. He laughs. He starts to describe a few of his characters but specifies that he often has healing aspects. He gives a very broad overview of their character arcs.

I ponder for a moment then said, “Would you like to have my assessment?”

He laughed, “Sure!”

“We’ve just met. It’s gonna get real.”

“Bring it on.”

“I think your struggle is that you feel you must offer something of value or service to people to be worthy of their love.”

His jaw dropped. His fork froze midway to his mouth. A potato fell. He stared into space as this sank in. Quietly he said, “Oh.”

#dnd #ramblies #dungeons and dragons #ffs foibles #he kept repeating it through the rest of the hang out and I got less coherent as I tuckered out but the gist was there #he also mentioned in his dating history how he’d always felt girls he’d dated were moving too fast #and without thinking I laughed and said yeah cause you’re gay and you desperately didn’t want those relationships to go anywhere #you just wanted to be loved but not romantically #and he looked shooketh #and I apologized cause I usually try to limit my deep psychoanalysis of people to one per hangout but he wasn’t upset

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hughmanbean · 3 months

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Loving Threats

Inspired by a song and its remake. But I am trash at syncing lyrics to storybeats.

Danny and Jason met in the ghost zone when Jason was dead, but he forgot it all coming back to life. When the two of them were together, they went through the entire song and dance (literally) of asking each other out.

I'm serious. There were like 10 different musical scenes with varying themes. It was Fenton Romance at its finest. And Jason's old school romance heart was certainly played a large part too.

It was their love language. Dramatic acts, vague threats and all.

Post revival and reconnection with the Batfam, Jason spots a familiar face. A flood of memories wash through him, and with it a bout of giddiness. Though he's currently dressed as Red Hood, Danny'll be able to tell who he is and keep quiet. Just have to greet him in a way that he'll recognize.

---

Danny is out taking the kids for a walk. Dan was grumpy since he wasn't allowed any ecto chips, for both his health and as punishment for severely beating a guy who tried to mug Danny without permission yesterday. Ellie is quite cheerful, since she's going to visit the Crocodile and Zombie sewer-dudes when Danny's not looking.

All of a sudden, Red Hood, casually wielding a gun, approaches Danny. He makes an overly familiar gesture, wrapping an arm sideways around Danny's waist. He whistles under the hood, a faint green glow from the white eyespaces.

"Well who do we have here? You look half dead, honey."

Danny looked at him. Horrible pick up line? Check? Thin veneer of confidence? Check. Zero self control around Danny? Check.

Jason. The rancid ecto signature is new, though. Honestly, not surprised he's a crime lord now.

"Well, you know how it is. The kids have been running me ragged. And you sure haven't been any help."

Danny puts on an innocent smile. Jason sidles closer. A few bystanders watch them with varied expressions.

"Well you don't need to worry about that now. How about you and I go somewhere more private?"

---

"A crime boss, huh?"

Dan is raiding the fridge. Ellie is watching a fight on TV.

"It was a... necessary step. I promise I would've visited you sooner if I had known."

"It's fine. What else happened while you were gone?"

"Well..."

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc prompt #dc x dp #dc x dp prompt #The Drama Kid Jason #Meets Commit To The Bit Danny #de aged ellie #de aged dan #danny is mama #dead on main #Jason sees Danny and goes for it no hesitation #I want to make this work but I am struggling #I had this in my drafts for two whole weeks #Basic gist/outline was Jason greeting Danny and Danny reciprocating #While everyone else saw it as Jason losing a bit of sanity around Danny - Batfam #Or the Red Hood coercing a civilian to date him using his kids as bargaining chips - Other #misunderstanding

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starry-bi-sky · 4 months

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There are two things that Damian knows that he knows Father doesn’t.

He has an older brother

He was dead

(And a secret third thing: Damian was glad he was dead. They did not get along.)

Well. No, correction, they were two things that Damian knew that Father didn't. Past tense. Strange magic swirled through the air and created a mirage before his eyes, and immediately a scowl forms across his face.

The mirage shifts and shimmers like the light hitting a slowly turning prism, and then it settles into a memory. One that Damian does not recall. Like looking into a tv screen, it shows, faintly, a room, with most of the magic going into the image of a crib.

His mother was standing on one side, and next to her, standing on his tiptoes was a small five year old boy looking up at her. With dark hair and skin that was only few shades lighter brown than Damian's, the little boy's resemblance to Damian was undeniable.

However, his eyes were blue. Not green. Damian's scowl deepens, and he sinks back. "Danyal." He mutters, and feels eyes turn on to him.

Danyal Al Ghul. Damian's older brother. A prodigal swordsman like Damian, and five years his senior. He'd be fifteen if he was still alive. His memory of the last time he saw his brother was still clear in his mind.

(A sword to Danyal's neck. Stars were glittering through his window. Damian was five, Danyal ten. He is not sure why Danyal had snuck into his room, all he remembers is hearing a sound and on instinct reaching for his sword.)

(His brother had intercepted easily. But had not shoved the sword away. Moonlight hit his blue eyes, and Damian remembers seeing the pupils shrink to let the light in. His eyes looked almost silver.)

(His brother bares his teeth at him. Damian wants to slice his neck more than anything, and he bares his teeth back. "Good." Danyal says, his voice low in a hiss, "Your reflexes are good, little brother.")

("Of course they are," Damian remembers snarling, and presses the sword closer. But it does not budge. "I am an Al Ghul.")

(Something unrecognizable passes through his brother's eyes, and his mouth twists into something like a smile. "I know." He says, and tilts his head downwards at him. "And you will be great.")

(His brother shoves the sword back, causing Damian to stumble. And like the wind, he is gone.)

(The next morning, he goes on a mission with mother and a few others. Mother is the only one to return with Danyal's sword, and a red-eyed look in her eyes. Damian does not mourn. Now there's only one of them.)

"Momma." The little Danyal-mirage speaks, a furrow between his childlike brows as mother lowers a bundle into the crib. His blue eyes watch her, and lifts onto his toes to peer into the crib as she sets the baby down. "Who is this?"

Their mother's hand comes to rest along his back. "This is Damian, my son." She murmurs, voice low. "He is your little brother. Protect him well."

Damian scoffs internally -- not likely. He remembers every spar he ever had with Danyal, every harsh word and insult. His pushing, pushing, pushing for Damian to get up. To try again. Do it again. The only kindness he ever showed him was when his fingers bled. And even that was harsh, firm. Rolling gauze around his wrist and scolding him, telling him how to wield his weapon better.

(It was the same as everyone else, but somehow it hurt worse coming from his own brother.)

But he watches his older brother's youngest self tilt his head to the side, and then reach his chubby hand through the crib's bars. He runs small, blunt fingers over the baby's arm, and the baby jerks. Through the crib's bars, Damian sees himself grab Danyal's fingers.

And he scowls even deeper.

And Danyal's eyes... widen. He lets out a little gasp, and a small smile Damian's never seen him wear tilts at the corner of his mouth as he looks up at their mother. "Mother," he whispers, "he grabbed me!"

Damian... his scowl falters, for a moment.

He doesn't wait for a response, he looks back to the baby with sparking eyes. His expression melts like sugar as he bounces the finger being gripped tight by the small hand. "Hello, little brother." His brother says, voice its of usual firmness, but there's more fondness underlying it than Damian's ever heard. "My name is Danyal."

The mirage shifts before Damian can comprehend his older brother's voice. It shows the crib again, appearing as if a few days had passed. There is night lilting through the nearby window, and a creek of the door. The baby doesn't stir.

Danyal sneaks in, still wearing his training clothes and a sword strapped to his side. Damian's scowl returns, watching him creep over to the crib. Of course -- the last night he saw his brother wasn't the only time he'd snuck into his room.

Would he go so low as to attack an infant? Damian wonders, watching his brother cross the room to his crib. But while his fingers rest against the hilt, they never curl to unsheathe.

His brother peers into the crib again, and there it is again, that smile wider in the corner of his mouth. It's not a full one, but its as uninhibited as it gets. Dripping honey-sweet with awe. "You are so tiny." Danyal whispers, and pokes a finger back through the crib. It wriggles, then pokes Damian's cheek gently. "Was I as small as you when mother gave birth to me?"

There is no response from the baby. Not a coherent one anyways, the little thing snuffles and turns his head, mouth open to latch. Danyal stills, his eyes grow ever wider again.

Danyal says nothing else, just rests his cheek against the crib and watches the baby sleep in silence. The affection never leaves his young face.

Damian feels unsettled. Off-foot. This Danyal is foreign to him... He wonders what happened to have changed his brother's mind on him.

There's a scuffle, quiet, but there. Danyal picks up on it just as Damian does, and his head pricks up like a deer, head already turning away from the crib. The affection leaves his face, falling away like water into something serious. His blade is already slightly unsheathed.

Two assassins, belonging to grandfather, burst out of the shadows. Their swords swinging into the air and ready to strike.

Danyal kills them both, his back to the crib. It's not without struggle, and when the two assassins lay dead on the floor, the baby is wailing at the top of his lungs. Danyal has a laceration cleaving down diagonal of his cheek. It's close to his eye, just barely missed blinding him.

Damian never knew how he got that scar. He does now. (He doesn't know how to feel about it.)

His brother clutches his bleeding face, sheathing his sword as tears well up onto his face. But he turns towards the crib, and hurries over. "You're okay, you're okay, you're okay." He hushes rapidly, the League-drilled seriousness fallen away to reveal a panic-stricken five year old. He sticks one hand into the crib, the one not clutching anything, and grabs little Damian's hand.

Their mother comes bursting in that moment, and Danyal turns his head towards her. "Mother." He says, his voice cracks un-wantingly. Their mother steps over the bodies of the assassins easily. "They tried to kill Damian."

"But they did not." Talias says, kneeling down next to the crib to inspect Danyal's face and Damian's well-being. When she finds nothing of concern beyond the injury, she continues. "You killed them before they could, Danyal. Well done."

The mirage of his brother nods, his eyes teary and red.

Damian... is discomfited. he never thought Danyal would kill assassins for him. He would have thought his brother would sooner look the other way. The mirage shifts again, and it quickly shows time passing.

Danyal sits in Damian's nursery every night, after that. He lays at the foot of the crib with his sword, a pillow and a blanket with him. Some nights there is nothing but peace -- or as close to peace as a baby could achieve -- and some days assassins break in.

Danyal kills each one.

The mirage shifts again, and it shows more memories of Danyal interacting with Damian during his youth too young for him to remember. His first steps, his first words.

"Danya." The small toddler of Damian says, arms reaching for Danyal.

A frown curls across Danyal's face, and pulls Damian into his lap. "No, no, little brother." He scolds, voice firm but.. softer. "It is Danyal, Damian. Danyal."

"Danya!"

Damian's brother sighs, but there is that same-small tilt at the corner of his mouth. A glimmer in his eyes. A glimmer... that Damian is finding he recognizes.

(He always thought his brother got that look in his eyes when he was mocking him. Was he wrong?)

The mirage shifts again, and this time it shows only mother and Danyal, alone. Danyal is older, taller. Seven, if Damian had to guess. Mother has a stern look on her face, her hands tight on his shoulders. "Damian will be starting training soon, my son."

Ah, then close to eight then. Training starts, always, at three years old. He watches Danyal nod, his expression mimicking their mother's. His arms are folded, always folded, behind his back, always neat.

"You can no longer have the relationship with your brother as you did before." Mother says.

Danyal's expression... falters. It shifts, it fluctuates. He looks surprised, thrown off. Like he isn't quite sure he heard what mother just said. His brows furrow. "What... do you mean, mother?"

"I mean what I said, Danyal." Mother says, stern, "Ra's will be keeping a closer eye on Damian now that he is of age to begin his training. He will not like if he sees you both getting along."

"I am sorry, my child. But your relationship with Damian ends here. You are rivals now, not brothers." In a cruel form a gentleness, mother raises her hand and tucks a stray curl out of Danyal's face.

Of course. Damian never had a relationship with his brother because of Grandfather. Of course. No, he's not feeling a little bitter. No. There's not an inner child that still, like a candleflame, wishes that he'd had a bond with his only flesh and blood.

Danyal is dead now. So it's not like it matters. He's happy about this.

Danyal frowns, and he steps back. He looks lost in thought. "We are still brothers, mother," he says, argues, and looks up to meet mother's eyes. "Let me train him, I will make sure he gets the skill he needs. If we must be rivals, then I will teach him how to defeat me. If he can defeat me, he can defeat anybody."

Their mother, and Damian, both blink in unison. Then mother smiles something sharp, calculated. She folds her hands behind her back. "Then do it. But you will make him hate you."

"...So be it."

Damian.... Damian is silent. His world axis has been tilted on its head. He is sliding, and sliding, and sliding down. Spinning. Many things click into place at once.

More memories from the mirage show. It shows Danyal training Damian. It shows their arguing, their bickering. It shows Danyal going to their mother to praise Damian and his skills, how fast he is picking up on the sword. How one day he will surpass even him.

It shows Danyal sitting outside Damian's bedroom door every night, listening in for anyone who dares to break in. His knees drawn to his chest, his sword at his side. Sometimes he sneaks in, sword drawn, when he hears a sound.

Some nights, Damian wakes up. He remembers those nights. Danyal standing over his bed with his sword unsheathed and tight at his side. He remembers the instant terror as he immediately reached for his own weapon.

His brother always scolded him for his lack of vigilance. That had he been anyone else, Damian would have had his neck cut. He would've been dead already. It only made Damian's hatred of him grow.

But he understands now. Because there were assassins in the room that Damian, four years old, three, did not notice. Not until later. He always assumed the attacks on him after Danyal's death had been because now there was a new heir to target.

It had been the only lesson he'd been even somewhat grateful for.

Then finally the mirage shimmers, and it shows Danyal, ten years old, in one of the training rooms, mid-spar with Mother. It's fast, sharp, impressive and like a blur. Damian is unsure if at ten which one of them was the better swordsman. Some of the assassins who have never met Danyal said Damian was, but the ones who had said it was Danyal. He'll never know.

In a lull in the fight, when their swords are crossed, mother speaks. "Ra's wants you and Damian to fight." She says, teeth grit into a deep scowl. The cross breaks and Danyal jumps back, he frowns.

"We have fought, mother." He says, and dives in first, swinging for mother's feet. Mother dodges, and slices at his arm. He swerves out of the way, twisting on his feet like a dance. "We are always fighting, doesn't he see our spars?"

"Not a spar like that, my son." Mother says, a snarl in her voice. She lunges, and Danyal blocks her blade. "A fight to the death. Father has grown tired of having two heirs."

That gets Danyal's attention -- or, more accurately, it distracts it. His eyes widen, and his sword lowers for a single moment. A mistake. "What?" Is all he gets out before mother has him on his back, her blade pressed to his throat.

He freezes. As does Damian. Danyal's brows furrow, then unfurrow, only to knot up again. "Mother, what do you mean a fight to the death?" He flips to his feet when mother removes the sword. She walks over to grab her water.

"Must I repeat myself, Danyal?" Mother snaps, rubbing her forehead before swigging from her canteen. "Father wants to find out which one of you is the stronger heir, and so you will fight to the death after your training in a few days."

Danyal's tan face loses a shade of color, he looks ashy. "There must be some mistake!" He exclaims, his arms gesturing out as he peers around mother. "There is a five year disparity between us, Damian has only just started training two years ago. It would be an unfair fight!"

"Do you think me unaware?" Mother whirls on him, and there is a grief-stricken look on her face. Like she is already mourning Damian's death. Damian feels ill. "Your skill is far beyond what Damian can accomplish right now, and there is nothing that I say that can convince Father otherwise."

Danyal wears an expression like he is scrambling for answers. A white knuckle grip on his weapon. There is a long silence, and his lower lip curls up. His throat bobs, he swallows. "Is there really nothing we can do?"

Mother makes a frustrated sound, pushing her loose hairs out of her face. "Not unless Father changes his mind, or I send one of you away. But Father would surely send someone to look for you or Damian."

"What if one of us faked our death?"

Mother stills. As does Damian. No, he thinks, stiff as a rod, no way. These mirages were lying, nothing but figments of an imagination. Of some quiet what-if that Damian had not yet stomped out.

Mother's expression shifts, and then turns contemplative. Danyal notices, and keeps pushing, he looks as hopeful as he could get beyond his usual unwavering, stone-like expression. "One of us could go to father--"

"No." Mother cuts off, voice sharp. Danyal wilts, confusion flittering across his face. Damian, from the corner of his eye, sees Father tense as stone. His white-slit eyes have not left the mirage. Nobody's has.

"Father will undoubtedly check there first, it would not be a good idea. You or Damian will have to go somewhere where he would not think to look. Someone unaffiliated with the League."

Danyal's face falls, shutters, and then closes up again into stone. Mother begins to pace, and Danyal's blue eyes follow her. "So a stranger?" He asks, and there is disgust lilting into his voice.

Mother nods, and she looks just as offput as Danyal.

The mirage of Damian's brother rolls his shoulders back. "Then I will do it, mother." He says, voice unwavering. There is a stubborn note behind it all, one that Damian recognizes. "I will fake my death, and Damian will stay here."

Mother's eyes turn sharp on him, and she stops in her spot. She pivots. "Are you sure?" She asks, eyebrow raising, "There is a chance you will never meet your Father if you leave. Nor will you see I or Damian again, if you do this."

Something like fear flickers across Danyal's face, eyes widening momentarily -- as if that very thought had not crossed his mind. But then it smooths over to sharp determination. He nods. "It would be the same for Damian if it was him instead. I will do it, Mother."

Damian feels ill again. Father has a strong set in his jaw, his teeth grinding.

Mother stares at Danyal, and then her expression softens. And like before, it is grieving. "In a few days time, I and another member of the League will be going on a mission to the American States. I will tell Father that you will accompany me, once there we will dispose of the other member and then orchestrate your death."

The American States. Danyal was here, in the country. He was out there somewhere -- but no this was fake. It had to be. Danyal was dead. A fool who got himself killed on a mission with mother and left the title of Heir to Damian.

Or maybe it had been his plan all along. His and mother's both.

...Was mother ever going to tell him?

The mirage of Danyal nods, sharp. Understanding. There is a gleam in his eyes that is not pride, it is tears. And when Mother leaves the room and leaves him alone, the stone-like expression on his face crumbles and falls.

His brother, ten years old, curls up his lip in an ugly way. It wobbles as the tears in his eyes do, and he brings up his hand to slam it over his mouth. And sinks to his knees, a yell-like sob muffled behind the skin.

His brother, ten years old, looks smaller than Damian remembers him being, and cries.

Damian has never seen Danyal cry. Not once in the mirage of memories, nor in his own.

The memory holds for a minute, and then disappears. And no new one shows up. The magic is gone, and it leaves a silence in its wake. Heavy, staticky, and full of revelations.

So there are two things that Damian knows that his Father now knows too.

He has an older brother

His older brother is alive.

(And a new secret third thing: Damian wasn't sure how to feel about it.)