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vaguely-concerned · 3 months

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I understand and agree with a lot of the frustrations about the shortcomings of Inquisition as a story. but sometimes when I hear people complain about the chosen one narrative in it I do want to just be like... you know it's a deconstruction of the concept more than anything, right. the inquisitor isn't actually chosen by anything except stumbling into the wrong (right?) room at the right (wrong?) time because they like, heard a noise or whatever. or if you think they are chosen, as many do in-universe, that's something you have to take on faith, the maker-or-whoever moves in mysterious ways indeed-style. the Inquisitor isn't actually a Destined Chosen One, they're a Just Some Guy in a fancy hat, self-delusions of grandeur to taste as you'd prefer.

a running thread that goes through all of the personal quests of the companions is the concept of a comforting lie vs. an uncomfortable truth, upholding old corrupt structures vs. disrupting them, and the role of faith in navigating that. (blackwall the warden vs. thom rainier the liar and murderer. hissrad vs. the iron bull, or is that the other way around? cassandra and the seekers -- do we tell the truth about what we find, even if it means dismantling the old order of the world? and so on.) and your inquisitor IS at the same time a comforting lie (a necessary one, in dark times? the game seems to ask) and an uncomfortable truth (we are the result of random fickle chance, no protective hand is held over the universe, it's on us to make a better world because the maker sure as hell won't lift a divine finger to help anyone, should he against all odds exist). faith wielded for political power... where's the point that it crosses the line into ugliness? is it before it even begins? what's the alternative? will anyone listen to the truth, if you tell it?

interesting how you also get a mix of companion agency in this -- you have characters like dorian who ALWAYS choose one side of the comforting lie vs. uncomfortable truth dichotomy. he will always make up his own mind to go back to tevinter and try to dismantle the corruption of the old system no matter what you say, or how you try to influence him. meanwhile iron bull is on the complete opposite side of the spectrum -- so psychologically trapped and mangled, caught in an impossible spiritual catch-22, that his sense of identity is left entirely to you and your mercy. you cannot change dorian in any way that matters; you can be his friend or not, support him or not, but he is whole no matter what. you are given incredible and potentially destructive-to-him power over bull's soul. it's really cool (and heartbreaking) to think about.

this is a game about how history will eat you even while you're still alive, and shape you into whatever image it pleases to serve it, and for all your incredible power right now you are powerless in the face of the gravitational force of time -- of more than time, of History. you won't recognize yourself in what History will make of you, because you belong to it now. you don't belong to yourself anymore and you never will again. the further you were from what it needs from you to begin with, the more you will find yourself distorted in its funhouse mirror. (why hello there inquisitor ameridan, same hat!)

and to me this is so much the core of what Dragon Age is about right from the Origins days -- how and by whom history gets written, the inherent unreliable narration of it all. I hope you like stories, Inquisitor. You are one now.

I do think it's probably still the weakest of the games narratively, and it's hampered by its structure and bloated systems. but I also find it disingenous to say that there's nothing deeper or actually interesting going on with it, thematically. if you're willing to engage with it there is Some Real Shit going on under the high fantasy-tinted surface.

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #it's so weird to have been around long enough to see the 'worst of the series!!' sentiment change targets from da2 to da:i haha #I was a 'da2 rules' truther before it was cool and by god I am a 'da:i does some cool shit' defender now that she's fallen from grace #I am an underdog supporter at heart I suppose #dragon age meta #meta #baby I'm yet again thinking insane galaxy brain thoughts about adoribull as thematic mirrors it's good to be back #I was never truly off my bullshit but I am completely back on it again now

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luxaofhesperides · 2 months

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the lost brother - damian

There is static in his ears.

There is a baby in his arms.

His niece. His niece from a brother dead before he was born. The daughter of Danyal, his mother's greatest regret, the ghost haunting his childhood, the brother he never got to have.

She is so small in his arms. Still. Quiet.

It frightens him, cradling such a fragile life in his arms. He's not good with most people, let alone a baby.

Danyal must have been truly desperate to leave her with him.

"Robin."

The voice makes the world come rushing back into place. Damian moves before he thinks, turning his body to shield his niece from danger, but it's only Red Robin standing before him. He stares, wide eyed, until Red Robin pushes his cowl back and Drake stands before him, expression carefully neutral. He doesn't look at the baby in Damian's arms. He only looks at Damian.

"Robin, come on. The Batmobile is right below us."

Damian hesitates, then follows Drake to the edge of the roof. He takes the fire escape down, landing carefully so he doesn't jostle the baby in his arms, and Drake grapples down a moment later, carefully maintaining the distance between them.

He knows it's to keep Damian from feeling trapped, and he's stupidly grateful, though he'll never say so.

The rest of the family will be a pain to deal with. They will demand answers he doesn't have, invade his space, insist on taking his niece from him. At least Drake is quiet and willing to observe without interference beyond getting them all home.

As promised, the Batmobile waits for them in the alley. Drake holds the door open and Damian slides in, adjusting his niece to make sure she's comfortable. She blinks up at him with dark blue eyes.

How strange. He had expected them to be green.

Drake drives them, speaking in short bursts into his comm. Damian brings a hand up to his own, realising rather belatedly that it's muted. Oracle must have grown annoyed at the barage of questions heading his way and silenced them for him.

He'll have to thank her later, once things have settled down.

For now, all his attention is on his little baby niece. What did Danyal say her name was?

Ellie.

Ellie Ellie Ellie.

She reaches up with a small hand, curious, and Damian offers a finger for her to latch on to. Her grip isn't strong, and her hand is small and barely warm.

He holds her closer for the rest of the ride home.

Father wants to take Ellie away for tests. Damian refuses to let go of her, going as far as leveling a sword at anyone who tries.

Drake is the only one who offers to only draw the barest minimum amount of blood for a DNA test, all while Damian holds her.

This, he accepts.

The others hover in his periphery, muttering amongst themselves, but Damian cares little for their thoughts and judgements. He was given Ellie for the sole purpose of caring for her. He will not fail in his duty. If it comes to it that he has to hide away with Mother for the rest of them to calm down, then he will. Surely she'll want to be involved with her granddaughter.

He'll have to tell her about Danyal, anyways.

Father stays at the computer, watching as the results load. He does not look away from the screen to even greet Ellie.

Damian pushes down his bitterness. He knows well the kind of man Father is, now. This is expected of him.

It's Richard that stays by him, hurrying across the Cave with an armful of diapers and baby clothes.

"I wasn't sure what to get, so I got a bit of everything," he explains, setting everything down on the cot where Damian sits with Ellie. Richard cut his patrol short as soon as Danyal left and made an emergency run to the nearest store with baby supplies, pulling sweatpants and a jacket over his Nightwing suit. The collar of the suit peeks out from beneath his jacket, and Damian is sure that it's only the late hour that kept anyone from asking too many questions while Richard was shopping.

"Thank you," Damian mutters. He sets Ellie down carefully, and she blinks up at him with tired eyes. Her face is round with baby fat, but not by much. "How do I…?"

"I think I know how to change a diaper," Richard offers, already pulling a fresh one out of the pack. He gets a small pack of baby wipes out of his pocket and quickly undoes the diaper on Ellie, wiping her down. Damian watches carefully, committing each step to memory as Richard changes her diaper and makes sure she's comfortable.

They're all out of their depths, Damian realizes. Have any of them actually cared for a baby? Pennyworth might have had some idea, and though he died a few years ago, the loss of him aches sharply even now.

"We'll have to figure out how old she is before we get any food for her," Richard murmurs, reaching out to brush a finger against her cheek. His eyes are soft, sad, and Damian lets out a slow breath, relived to know he can trust Richard with Ellie. "What happened?"

It's the question everyone's been asking him, and Damian has refused to answer each time.

But he will answer Richard.

"I saw a person on the edge of the roof as I patrolled. I went down to bring them to safety. He was… I had an older brother who died before I was born. But I know what he looks like. It was him, on that roof."

"You think he came back to life?"

"He must have. He was placed in a Lazarus Pit, but Mother said it didn't bring him back. Perhaps it just took time."

"What made you think it was him, if you've never met him?"

Damian thinks back. The man on the roof was a few years older than Drake, thin and worn-down. His eyes caught Damian's attention first; al Ghul's have very distinctive eyes, and it seems they both inherited that trait from Mother. Beyond that…

Lazarus Pits have magic in them. They wouldn't be able to do what they did without it. Those revived by Lazarus Pits carry some of it with them; it's not Pit Rage, which fades within an hour, but something else that leaves them on the boundary of inhuman. Damian grew up around the Pits and people who used them. He knows what the magic of the Pits feels like, and he could feel it in Danyal.

"I just knew," Damian answers. "Should Mother ever meet him, she'll be able to tell you the same thing: that was Danyal. And this is his daughter."

"Do you know why he left his daughter with you?"

"He asked if Batman was a good father. If I was safe here. Only then did he give Ellie to me."

"He could have stayed to," Richard says, sadness coloring his tone.

Damian doesn't respond. What could he say? Yes, Danyal could have stayed and joined them. He chose not to, for whatever reason. They have not found him yet, and Damian doubts they will find him any time soon.

Danyal is the first son of Talia al Ghul and Bruce Wayne. He will not be found until he wants to be.

Damian will have to wait until then.

The DNA results come back after eight rounds of testing.

Ellie is indeed Damian's niece.

The closest matches to her in the database are Damian and Bruce, which all but confirms that Danyal is indeed the first blood son of the Bat.

Father stares down at Ellie with an unreadable look on his face. He doesn't try to hold her; Damian doesn't know if he should be grateful for this or not.

"I have another son," he says. "And neither you nor your mother ever told me."

"He was dead," Damian answers, "What use would a dead child be to you? Even I never met him until tonight. He was gone long before I was born."

"He's still my son!"

"He's a stranger," Damian bites back. "Why do you pretend to care now? He has never been a part of our lives before. You won't even hold his daughter."

Father flinches back, just slightly, but it's enough to know that the barb hit. Damian gathers Ellie up into his arms and heads for the stairs. "I will be going to sleep now. Ellie will stay with me. You are welcome to stay down here to search for Danyal, or you can get some rest to join me in shopping for Ellie. I will call Mother. Good night."

The others don't have the decency to wait until he's completely out of the Cave before they begin shouting amongst themselves. Damian clicks his tongue and looks down at Ellie, who's sleeping peacefully.

"Let's hope you grow up to have more sense than them," he says to her.

He lays her on top of the blankets, then curls up next to her. It's a long time before he's able to fall asleep.

Mother calls first thing in the morning. Damian's barely had time to brush his teeth before his phone is ringing, and he has to rush to catch it before the call ends.

"Is it true?" she demands as soon as he answers, "Was it Danyal?"

Damian bites back a curse. He said he'd call her. It would have been best if he had been the one to break the news, rather than anyone else, but it doesn't surprise him that no one listened.

"It's true," he says. "Danyal was in Gotham last night. He left his daughter in my care before disappearing. I was unable to speak to him more."

"How can that be," she says, breathless, "It's been decades since his death. The Lazarus Pit never returned him to me."

"It was him. That's all I know."

There's a pause as his mother gathers her composure. Then she says, "I will be in Gotham in a week. I will not be kept out of my granddaughter's life."

"I will make sure we have a room ready for you."

"Good. Take care, habibi."

The call ends without any other fanfare. Damian drops his head with a sigh and tosses his phone back onto his desk.

On his bed, Ellie is sitting up, watching him curiously.

"You and your father have caused a lot of trouble already," he tells her, and she claps her hands together.

When he goes downstairs, he immediately makes note of Drake and Brown's presence with displeasure. His hopes for a quiet morning are dashed before he even reached the kitchen.

"There you are!" Brown says far too loudly. She bounds up to him, ignoring his scowl, and peers at Ellie. "Hm, I'd guess around nine to eleven months, accounting for FTT and some malnutrition."

"FTT?" he repeats.

"Failure to thrive. If infants aren't care for properly, which includes cuddling, then they just… don't grow as they should. They end up smaller and weaker than is expected for their age."

"I imagine she was not taken care of properly, wherever she was before. She wouldn't have been left with me otherwise."

Brown looks troubled, but she blinks it away and smiles when Ellie reaches up to grab at her nose. "Hello there," she says in a soft voice, "I'm your favorite aunt. Don't forget that, alright! I'm your favorite."

Damian pushes her away. "She has no favorites."

"Not yet, but it'll definitely be me when she does!"

"Don't you have anything better to do than bother me?"

"No. But, in all seriousness, me and Tim are here to help. He gave me a rundown and what happened and I still have a bunch of stuff from my pregnancy classes that can help you. We also got some baby food and milk and formula for the baby, since she'll need to eat and be burped. I can walk you through all of that so you can start getting some experience in baby care."

Ah. He had forgotten that Brown had once been pregnant. That she gave away her own baby.

It must be hard for her to be on the other end of that situation, to watch someone take in a baby whose parent couldn't properly care for her, to muster up a smile and all the information she has to make things better.

"I would… appreciate that, Brown."

"Good! Well, lesson one starts now."

She throws open the door to the kitchen, where Drake is pressing the tip of a feeding bottle against the inside of his wrist. "Come here," he says to Damian. "Hold out a hand."

Curious, Damian does as told, and watches as Drake pressed the warm tip of the bottle against his wrist, where liquid splots out onto his skin. "That's about how warm it should be when you feed her. Here." He presses the bottle into Damian's hands, and it takes some adjustment before he can feed Ellie, who starts off slowly, then with more energy.

Brown tosses a rag over his shoulder, and instructs him on how to burp Ellie once she's finished eating. She coughs up some formula, then settles back into his arms, eyes closing as she begins to doze.

"I'll handle shopping," Drake says. "You need a crib, right? Maybe some toys… Just text me a list, I'll get everything."

"Why are you doing all this?" Damian can't help but ask. "We are not exactly… close."

Drake blinks at him, as though he's confused. "Because a baby is a big responsibility. And just because we don't always get along doesn't mean we're not family. She's my neice too. Doesn't she deserve to have more people in her corner?"

Damian can't argue with that, so he nods and lets Drake go to buy whatever he thinks is necessary. Brown lingers in the kitchen, making breakfast for them both in between sneaking glances at Ellie. Usually being watched so obviously would have him on edge and snappy, but he understands the urge to keep looking; he also can't take his eyes off of Ellie.

For someone so small to go through such hardship already… he doesn't understand how anyone can look at her and not want to keep her safe.

He wonders if anyone is keeping Danyal safe.

As much as he wants to go after Danyal, search for his resurrected brother, Ellie takes priority.

She's the one who's here to stay, after all.

Father doesn't come up from the Batcave all day.

Damian tries not to hate him for it.

He doesn't think he succeeds.

(masterpost for all parts)

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #demon brothers #the harmless series #dcxdp fic #my writing #now comes complicated family!!!! hehehehe #yes alfred is dead. this takes place a few years after his death. so damian's around 15 and danny's about 24 #this will be explained more later. just know he was in that lab for a very long time.

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