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greenglowinspooks · 7 months

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(DCxDP) The obligations of a rogue versus those of a parent (Pt. 4)

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Tw: descriptions of body horror, Dr. Crane has PTSD and Does Not Realize, Crane has an actual panic attack and just doesn’t care, the Riddler makes one (1) sex joke about Batman

Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually

(Pt. 1 here) (Prev here) - (Pt. 5 here)

(Masterlist here)

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Dr. Jonathan Crane is in his lab, the acrid scent of chemicals filling the air, and his hands are shaking.

Danny’s health, for the first week that he had him, had been steadily improving at an extremely quick rate. However, his healing had begun to stagnate. Danny said that it was because his body had run out of ectoplasm, and that while there was a lot of ambient ectoplasm in Gotham, he needed a stronger type in order to heal.

And so, that led Dr. Crane here.

He had stolen the research notes from the Penguin years ago regarding his experimentation on him.

(He quite vividly remembers the sound of bone creaking and groaning as it twisted, lengthened. The squelching of shifting tendons and muscles, the strange fabric-like tightening of skin. The feeling of going from man to monster, of losing all claim to his humanity.)

Danny had called him Liminal, part ghost. He had said that he was transformed by, among other things, a kind of synthetic ectoplasm.

Danny needed ectoplasm.

Crane had the research notes. He had every ingredient necessary. And yet, attempt after attempt failed.

The chemical smell burns his nose. His hands tremble.

Dr. Crane is not afraid.

He doesn’t feel fear anymore. He’s tried to, many, many times, but nothing has worked. And yet, his hands are shaking still.

(The horrifying sensation of vertebrae pop-pop-popping along his spine, growing and lengthening. The unbearable itching beneath his skin as toxin glands begin to form. The feeling of his teeth sharpening and elongating, of his skull growing, of his vision changing and brightening. The awful stench of chemicals. The awful stench of ectoplasm.)

Jonathan takes careful note of his shaking hands, his blurring vision, his accelerated heart-rate and shallow breathing.

(Human hands. Human vision. Human heart and lungs and organs.)

He takes note of them, but he does not let that distract him from the task at hand. Danny is not a chemist, but Jonathan is.

The boy knows enough about chemistry in theory, but he won’t go anywhere near Crane’s equipment. He seems to have some sort of intense fear of laboratory settings, probably developed during his stay with the GiW, and Crane is willing to respect that, if only because he cannot afford to lose him.

As such, Crane is the only one qualified to do this. And, unfortunately, if he isn’t successful the boy may very well die.

He heats the chemicals to precisely the right temperatures, adding each one to its correct container.

Dr. Crane thinks of the Scarebeast, that creature born of cruelty and greed and a sense of superiority. That creature which he tries to ignore is a part of him, that can never be removed. A damage which cannot be undone.

He pours the contents of a small beaker into a larger flask, watching the liquids swirl together. The stench in the air is becoming closer and closer to the one burned into his memory.

Crane’s whole body is wracked with unpleasant sensations. It’s truly unfortunate, he thinks, that despite his mind’s lack of fear, his body still reacts so harshly.

Jonathan’s eyes wander, eventually settling on a purple and green card sitting innocently on the corner of the table.

Right.

Even if they wiped out the GiW tomorrow, and even if Danny could survive without ectoplasm, he would still be in danger.

Crane has to get him back to good health. It’s the only way he can be sure that the boy can defend himself properly.

The solution in the flask begins to foam, and Jonathan does not hesitate as he adds the final ingredient. He pours the mixture into a new container, capping it and placing it into a freezer set to -40 degrees.

Hopefully this time he got the timing right.

Jonathan tries to relax, the ventilation in the room slowly but surely clearing the familiar smell from the air.

He thinks of the letter.

Surely, he thinks, that man can come up with some better material for his jokes. Or, at least something new.

Same old threats, same old attempted poisoning.

Aiming his threats at Danny, though, that was new. New and utterly unacceptable.

Scarecrow did what he had to.

He doubted that his solution would last forever, of course, as with that man it never did. As such, he would prepare both himself and Danny for the inevitable moment that his choices came back to bite them.

However, for the moment, they were safe. Danny could rest and recover, and Jonathan could figure out a plan to minimize possible damages.

Jonathan is no longer shaking.

He’s exhausted. This is his fifth attempt today, and each one leaves an unfortunate strain on his mind and body.

With a sigh, he settles himself into his seat at a nearby desk, opening up his computer and logging his most recent attempt. He still has to wait for it to chill to know if it was successful, but he can always update the logs later.

Once he’s done, he stretches, joints popping loudly as he walks to the freezer.

When he sees the results of his tireless work, the ghost of a smile flits across his face.

Success.

Jonathan picks up the jug of ectoplasm and leaves the lab, which is in all actuality the basement of the new apartment that he moved himself and Danny into after receiving the note. The scrappy old woman who was his landlord had told him that as long as he paid her five hundred dollars up front, she would let him set up in the basement without any questions or cop calls.

And so, the most expensive apartment in the Narrows was his.

At least, he thought, the distance between the basement and the apartment was short enough that Danny didn’t have to sit in while he was doing his labwork.

Jonathan knew that he didn’t exactly have a strong grasp on the concept of ‘lab safety,’ proven by his built-up immunity to almost every toxic chemical he’d ever encountered, and he doubted that Danny should be around such an environment.

He was back to the apartment quickly, not bothering to hide the self-satisfied smile on his face. Danny is sitting in his armchair, trying to read one of his books. Danny looks up, ready to greet him, when he sees the jug in his hands and pauses.

“Is that..?”

“Synthetic ectoplasm,” Jonathan says proudly, “I found the Penguin’s research notes and decided to recreate it, since you said that you needed it to heal properly. I’m not sure if it’ll work the same as what you usually have, but I hope it’s helpful all the same.”

Danny is standing, now, and looking at Jonathan with a strange look in his eyes. He looks, Jon thinks, like he’s about to cry.

Then Danny is rushing forward and wrapping his arms around Jonathan, his scrawny form shaking.

Jonathan is, for a moment, horrified. Did he do something wrong somehow? Why is this child, who’s so afraid of touch, hugging him?

And then he hears Danny’s voice, and he knows that it was all worth it.

“Thank you,” he’s mumbling, over and over, “thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you so much.”

“Of course,” Jonathan says softly, because what else can he say?

The boy cries in his arms for a while, and Jonathan briefly wonders what his life must have been like before, if a person like him can be seen as a comforting figure.

Then, Danny pours himself a small glass of the synthetic ectoplasm, putting the rest into the small fridge which had come with the apartment, and he settles back down, sitting in the armchair once again.

Jonathan sits opposite of him, and they chat with one another as Danny drinks.

Danny talks to him about the stars and tells him about different spaceships, and Jonathan makes sure to pay attention and ask the boy questions.

He doesn’t miss the way that Danny lights up every time he asks him something about his interests. He’s so passionate, so smart, a trait that he seldom sees outside of his fellow rogues, and Jonathan wants to encourage that.

It’s…nice. Peaceful, almost.

And then the front door flies open, because Jonathan isn’t allowed to have nice things.

“Jon,” a familiar voice rings out, “what the hell?!”

Danny is frozen in place, clearly terrified.

Jonathan heaves a sigh, turning to face the nuisance who’s entered his apartment.

“Eddie,” he drawls, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Edward’s face is red with anger as he invades Jonathan’s apartment.

“Oh, I don’t know! Maybe it’s the fact that you sent a bunch of rogues a cryptic message and then dropped off the face of the earth for two weeks! I was worried, Jon!”

Jonathan hums in acknowledgement.

“I didn’t think it was that cryptic,” he says, picking up a book in order to pointedly ignore the Riddler.

“Oh, of course you didn’t, you straw-stuffed hickory dickory dickhead. I swear, you’re always—” he pauses, finally having noticed Danny sitting opposite of Jonathan, “—who is this?”

“My apprentice,” Jonathan replies, dreading the upcoming headache he was no doubt going to develop from Edward’s company, “he’s helping me hunt down the GiW. His name is Danny.”

Edward gasps dramatically.

“You—an apprentice?! And you’re letting him sit in the old man chair?! You don’t even let me sit in the old man chair,” he wails, draping himself over the headrest of the couch with a flourish, “Jonathan, I thought I knew you!”

“Edward,” Jonathan says, “get out of my apartment.”

“Oh my goodness, this is incredible. You’re becoming the bat!”

“I am not becoming the bat, Eddie, now get out.”

Edward has a shit-eating grin on his face as he waltzes over to Danny. Danny, who seemed terrified when he first appeared, is now looking at him with obvious amusement written all over his face.

“I mean, look at him! The hair, the eyes, the scrappy build. If you put him in one of those traffic light vigilante costumes, he could easily pass as a Robin!”

“I’m not doing this with you today, Eddie.”

“Riddle me this, Jon: I am a treasure hidden inside of a chest. You can break me, or steal me, or give me a rest. I can flutter, or pound, or attack, or drop, but if you don’t have me, you’re certainly fucked. What am I?”

Jonathan pauses for a moment before he groans, dropping his head into his hands.

“Eddie.”

Danny sits still, a confused look on his face as he repeats the riddle silently. Then, his face lights up in delight.

“A heart!”

“Jon, I like this one,” Edward says with a smile, ruffling Danny’s hair, “you are correct! A heart, something that I wasn’t aware that our dear Jonathan had!”

“Eddie, stop.”

“No, no,” Edward says, “I was worried about you, you deserve this. I mean, you even missed girls night! You never miss girls night!”

“Girls night?” Danny asks, absolutely delighted.

“Oh, of course,” Edward says, sprawling over on the couch, dangerously close to just laying in Jonathan’s lap, “we have it once a week. I’m invited because of Selina and Jon’s invited because Harley likes him.”

“And what does girls night entail, exactly?”

“Eddie,” Jonathan groans, “please.”

“Well,” Edward hums, “we usually paint our nails, or watch a movie, or gossip about the other rogues, and occasionally, we tell each other about any ‘encounters’ we have with Batman,” he says, raising his eyebrows up and down.

Danny’s jaw drops.

“Edward, shut up,” Jonathan says, an irritated tone in his voice that wasn’t there before.

“No way,” Danny says, “I thought that Batman, like, hated you guys or something. You mean he actually..?”

“Oh, the Bat is much like a bottle of liquor or a cheap cigarette, in that he was made to be passed around.”

Danny chokes on air.

“Edward Nygma,” Jonathan hisses, getting out of his seat and looming over the man, “get the hell out.”

Edward pales.

“Leaving, leaving!” Edward says, dashing away from Jonathan. He pauses, turning to flash Danny a quick smile.

“Remember Danny, I’m your favorite uncle! Not any of the other rogues, me!”

With that, he leaves, the room falling completely silent.

And, as per usual, that silence does not last.

“You full-named him?” Danny asks gleefully, “and it worked?”

Jonathan just sighs, sitting down on the couch and rubbing at his temples.

“Please, don’t take anything Eddie says seriously. He’s a moron.”

“Dr. Crane, please let me come to girls night with you,” Danny pleads, his eyes sparkling, “I promise I won’t embarrass you.”

Jonathan groans.

“Of course you won’t, Eddie will do it for you.”

“Come on, please?”

“I think we’re a bit busy with the GiW at the moment,” Jonathan snaps. He pauses as he notices the crestfallen expression on Danny’s face.

This boy is going to be the death of him.

“Perhaps, though, when all that is taken care of…”

Danny cheers, grinning wildly, and Jonathan is not at all relieved to see him happy again. Certainly not.

The rest of the day is relatively normal.

Danny works on trying to get information from the GiW database while Crane refines his his fear toxin, both preparing for a raid on the GiW base they located in Gotham.

It was only a temporary base, nothing of note, but there was a chance of discovering more bases through it, and that wasn’t something either of them were willing to give up.

Still, something like this would take time. Rushing would only lead to failure.

…

Late in the night, long after Danny is fast asleep in his room, Jonathan pauses.

The GiW are not the only threat out there. They aren’t the only threat to him or to Danny. Perhaps it could be helpful to reach out to someone with greater resources than himself.

He sends a quick message to Red Hood.

Hopefully, he thinks, everything will go smoothly.

—

#dcxdp #dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp fic #liminal scarecrow #Jon’s PTSD is triggered by the smell of ectoplasm because his life is a nightmare #HDJFNDNDNFKDJF #I am the master of emotional whiplash #rip Jon just trying to have some peace in this fucking house #never gonna happen king 🫡#oh also Eddie is not lying that bat can manwhore #and like half the rogues in Gotham know this from experience #and also most of the JL #and some of JL dark #btw Eddie and Jon are besties #they’re both awful but they make it work #when Jon full-names Eddie that just means that if he doesn’t stop whatever he’s doing he’s gonna get a dose of fear toxin #Eddie isn’t intimidating enough to full-name anyone so if he gets mad he just bashes whoever in the head with his cane #Jon is the living embodiment of ‘me and my girl don’t argue she bash me in the head with a rock and I walk it off like a man’#also side note I’m not doing any ships in this #because I don’t want to #they are just Like That #if you wanna read it that way though it’s completely fine #also shoutout 2 that one scriddler fic on ao3 that helped inspire that riddle LMAO

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ignitesthestxrs · 6 months

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there's something about the way people talk about john gaius (incl the way the author writes him) that is like. so absent of any connection to te ao māori that it's really discomforting. like even in posts that acknowledge him as not being white, they still talk about him like a white, american leftist guy in a way that makes it clear people just AREN'T perceiving him as a māori man from aotearoa.

and it's just really serves to hammer home how powerful and pervasive whiteness and american hegemony is. because TLT is probably the single most Kiwi series in years to explode on the global stage, and all the things i find fraught about it as a pākehā woman reading a series by a pākehā author are illegible to a greater fandom of americans discoursing about whether or not memes are a valid way of portraying queer love.

idk the part of my brain that lights up every time i see a capital Z printed somewhere because of the New Zealand Mentioned??? instinct will always be proud of these books and muir. but i find myself caught in this midpoint of excitement and validation over my culture finding a place on the global stage, frustration at how kiwi humour and means of conveying emotion is misinterpreted or declared facile by an international audience, frustrated also by how that international audience runs the characters in this book through a filter of american whiteness before it bothers to interpret them, and ESPECIALLY frustrated by how muir has done a pretty middling job of portraying te ao māori and the māoriness of her characters, but tht conversation doesn't circulate in the same way* because a big part of the audience doesn't even realise the conversation is there to be had.

which is not to say that muir has done a huge glaring racism that non-kiwis haven't noticed or anything, but rather that there are very definitely things that she has done well, things that she has done poorly, things that she didn't think about in the first book that she has tacked on or expanded upon in the later books, that are all worthy of discussion and critique that can't happen when the popular posts that float past my dash are about how this indigenous man is 'guy who won't shut up about having gone to oxford'

*to be clear here, i'm not saying these conversations have never happened, just that in terms of like, ambient posts that float round my very dykey dash, the discussions and meta that circulate on this the lesbian social media, are overwhelmingly stripped of any connection to aotearoa in general, let alone te ao māori in specific. and because of the nature of american internet hegemony this just,,,isn't noticed, because how does a fish know it's in the ocean u know? i have seen discussions along these lines come up, and it's there if i specifically go looking for it, but it's not present in the bulk of tlt content that has its own circulatory life and i jut find that grim and a part of why the fandom is difficult to engage with.

#tlt #the locked tomb #i don't really have an answer lmao this is more #an expression of frustration and discomfort #over the way posts about john gaius seem to have very little connection to the background muir actually gave him #like you cant describe him as an educated leftist bisexual man #without INCLUDING that he is māori #that has an impact! that has weight and importance!#that is a background to every decision he makes #from the meat wall to the nuke to his relationship with the earth #and it also has weight and importance in the decisions that muir makes in writing him #it is not a neutral decision that he's known as john gaius lmao #it's not a neutral decision that the empire is explicitly of roman/latin extraction #it's not even neutral that this is a book about necromancy #it's certainly not a neutral fucking decision that john was at one point a māori man living in the bush #when the nz govt decided to send cops in #like that is a thing that happens here! that is a reference to nz cultural and political events that informs john's character and actions #and with the nature of who john is in the story #informs the narrative as a whole #and i think the tiresome part of this experience is that #in general #americans are not well positioned to understand that something might be being written from outside their experience as a default #like obviously many many americans in online leftist & queer spaces are willing to learn and take on new information #but so much of the conversation starts from a place of having to explain that forests exist to fish

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puppetmaster13u · 4 months

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Prompt 184

“Well damn.”

Jason wrenched his gaze from the mess of red and green spattered across the room, searching for the source of the voice. His head hurt, he wanted his Dad. He wanted Bruce. He… his head hurt. His everything hurt.

“Honestly, didn’t expect them to find another half-breed. Didn’t think there was another halfa out there…”

He tore his gaze away from the floor- when had it gotten there- finally finding the other… person? The person giving him an empty smile through some sort of muzzle and missing an entire arm. Well, he couldn’t judge, he’d torn his nails off while digging out of his grave before… this.

“Hey, kid, don’t sweat it, it’ll grow back,” the man apparently noticed where he was staring, shoulder twitching as he shrugged and more green pouring out. Jason couldn’t stop staring, eyes slipping from the growing pool to the rest of the chains apparently keeping the person on that side of the… room? Cage? Cell?

“Shit, hey, kid, kid, don’t cry, uh, fuck, shh, kid don’t cry-” the person made a noise, some sort of hum or croon that caused him to relax. To his already brain-damaged confusion. “C’mere, away from the door now, shh…”

Oh, when had he started to move? It was like he blinked and was stumbling away towards the chained person, practically tripping over a limb before the person managed to catch him. “Ope, oh you’re just a little baby-” a hand, clawed, carefully ran through his hair, tucking him against a rumbling chest that nearly made him tear up again. He wanted Bruce.

“It’s alright kid, shh, they won’t get you,” the man rumbled, everything about him green to his rapidly closing eyes. Pale skin like a corpse, black scales like rot, hair white like snow, all stained green with blood. “They’d have to kill me again for that.”

#dcxdp #dpxdc #prompts #Instead of spending 3 years with the league of assassins after digging himself out of his grave #Jason spends it in a GIW lab with an adult Danny #Danny is totally doing okay he swears #He’s FINE and definitely didn’t see the scientists Kill Vlad and Dani by taking things too far #He’s definitely Not feral and slowly losing his humanity with every piece taken away #Danny missing half his limbs and restrained but dragging himself forward: U touch my kid and I will bite your throat out ya hear #He’s not going to let them hurt this Baby Ghostling who is Sick and Hurt #There’s going to be so much Angst when Bruce finds out not only is Jason alive but he’s trapped in a lab being experimented on #Danny does his best to protect Jason but stuff happens #halfa jason todd #guys in white #Danny eventually goes from having 2 arms to 4 in those three years #His 'human' body is mutating with every “test”#Where is Clockwork? Trying his best but he can't see Danny's timelines thx to the time medallion & the Observants being Assholes #Also not helped by the many knots the speedsters have created that resulted in several timelines being completely blacked out to him

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ghouljams · 11 months

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My brain does weird things. Anyways, I think Love would steal Liebling’s seed (assuming she didn’t throw it out) and plant it for her. That just seems like a very Love thing to do.

This is really dubiously canon... Love had sticky fingers and her luck finally runs out, or does it?

You stare at the sprout pushing its way out of the dirt in your little terracotta pot. You spritz it with water, and watch the leaves curl happily. Like fingers.

"Hey Si?" You call over your shoulder. You've made some... well you hesitate to call them bad, but questionable decisions in your life. Usually your luck carries you through, but you think it may be running out on this particular gamble.

Simon hums from the couch, half listening as he sketches the monarch wing you'd found into your journal. You don't know if this is really worth his attention. You don't really know what it is. You sort of... stole it.

"Is it stealing if it was technically trash?" You ask, without really thinking. Simon's sketching stops, and he turns to look over the back of the couch.

"What did you steal?"

"Weird seed the bestie didn't want." You poke one of the leaves, letting it wrap around your finger. That gets Simon's attention. He's quick to get off the couch and over to you, pulling your finger out of the plant's grip.

"Christ Love, is that what you've been nursing all week?" Simon looks over your hand with concern, you nod until he kisses your palm giving it the all clear.

"What is it?" You poke Simon's cheek to get your hand back. He lets you go to pick up the pot and inspect the new growth.

"No clue," he tells you, "did, uh- shit-"

"Lieb."

"Works well enough," Simon pokes at the plant, watching the leaves move, "Did she tell you want it was?" You shake your head. He pinches a leaf between his fingers, inspecting it. "Doesn't look dangerous."

"Then I'll keep watering it." Simon shakes his head but settled the pot back on the windowsill.

"We'll keep an eye on it."

"We?" Simon flashes you half a smile, you return it in full force, "I love when we do stupid stuff together."

You don't know how long it's supposed to take flowers to grow, or even how they're supposed to grow, but it feels like this is going really weird.

You stare at the giant flower bud that's blossomed in your little terracotta pot. It sort of reminds you of a cabbage. It feels like a rose when you pet it, the petals under your fingers silky and soft. You don't know quite what to do with it. Simon sets a cup of tea next to your head where you're resting it against the windowsill.

"Looking good Love," You hum at the kiss he presses against the top of your head, "How's the cabbage?"

"She's fine, still overgrown and weird." You sit up, grabbing your mug and letting Simon take over the daily plant inspection.

"Doesn't look deadly yet."

"Yet."

"Yet," he agrees. You both sip your morning cup and stare at your poor decision making skills.

"You haven't put any magic in it to make it big." You confirm for the thousandth time.

"Not a drop, gardener must've dreamt this up." He reminds you, also for the thousandth time.

"Maybe we can enter it in a gardening fair or-"

Simon yanks you away from the bud as the petals quiver and bloom. You're very quickly put behind your very tense partner, forced to look around him at whatever is going on. You've never seen a flower open up that fast, but you think gravity must be doing the lions share of work. The actual rose is huge, far bigger than the bud would've suggested, and heavy enough to finally break the little pot it had been growing in.

Simon is faster than you, grabbing the flower as it's weight causes it to tumble off the windowsill. You tense, your breath caught as you wait for him to do anything, move any muscle.

"What? What is it?" You whisper after too long a moment without a breath.

"I don't-" He mumbles, catching the end of his sentence behind his teeth so he can curse, "Shit."

You peak over his shoulder, hoping you won't see your weird plant smashed to bits. Instead you stare down at a baby. The smallest thing you've ever seen cradled gently in Simon's arms, blinking big brown eyes and white lashes up at both of you. Your heart swells.

"Holy shit," you breath, watching it yawn and wiggle in its rose petal wrap. It's perfect little nose scrunches with the motion and you need a second to adjust to how cute that is. "Did we do that?" You press closer against Simon's back, and reach to stroke your fingers over the downy hair on the baby's head, "I mean she's got your eyes, it's gotta be-"

"I don't know," Simon mumbles.

"Well what are we supposed to-"

"I don't know!" He snaps, and you finally look at him. At the absolutely confusion and concern dripping from his eyes and rolling down his cheeks. You've never seen him cry before, well not like this at least.

"Give her to me," You tell him, sitting back and holding your arms out, he looks unsure. "Please Simon," you soften the ask, pulling a tether so he knows you're sure. He's so careful, if a little clumsy. You have to adjust his hold as he's passing the infant to you and it seems like he's watching the way you shift her in your arms for his own reference later. You hold the baby close against your chest, feeling that strange comfortable purr rise in your throat as she blinks her big eyes closed.

"What the fuck do we do?" Simon whisper yells at you.

"Call Soap right the fuck now and text Lieb that I'm gonna fucking kill her," you coo at the dozing baby in your arms. Simon nod and scrambles to find both your phones.

#fae!Ghost #oc: love #this is fluff for them since they didnt get to experience changelings #idk do we wanna give the disaster couple a baby?#i feel like Love would be the mom from mean girls? like 'if youre gonna drink id rather you do it in the house'#the cool mom that everyone thinks is insane #she is kinda insane tho #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #cod ghost #ghost mwii #cod x reader #x reader #Ghost crying because he doesnt know what to do in the most extreme way anyone has ever not known what to do #i do think hed cry over his and Love's kid though #and i think those could potentially be tears of joy at having a baby with Love even if neither of them know how it happened

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rickybaby · 6 months

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Daniel was in Sydney for DR3 wines (via IG stories and Media-Mode.com)

Ricciardo said his love of wine was a family affair, starting with his grandparents making their own drink with limited success.

“This is something that puts a smile on my father's face because he grew up with an interest and passion for wine,” said Ricciardo.“His parents made wine in their garage, but I used to call it vinegar.“Look, I'm new to this, and I don't expect to know everything, but they've allowed me to pursue the experience I'm looking for.”

“We make sure no one calls it vinegar.” (x)

#I love how everything he does comes from a passion he shares with his dad #even that little snippet about Bono knowing who he is and being excited about it because his dad is a big U2 fan #and how he talked about how his dad looks at him when something unbelievable happens and he’s like I know dad #also loved him talking about being able to get his dad to experience f1 things when his dad has been such a big fan #on that podcast with sir jackie #daniel ricciardo

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cherry-bomb1985 · 1 month

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I feel like The Father and Hell both understand and experience love in all the worst ways.

The Father sought to create a life form that would follow and love him unconditionally. It wasn't enough that he had a great cosmic kingdom of angels who are unquestioningly loyal, no, he needed something that knew suffering and mortality and the threat of oblivion, and would still find love at the end; love for him above all else. But after numerous implied failures at that, in his desperation, he instead created the threat of eternal damnation to force them to love him in order avert that fate. Lucifer's words must have been like a splash of cold water, but by the time he realized sheer magnitude of suffering he had unintentionally set into motion, it was too late. He could not destroy Hell; he could not stop the cycle of violence.

That guilt drove him to seek a death that, from the looks of it, eluded him in spite of the hollowness consuming him. And now he is... somewhere, helpless to stop his experiments from consuming one another and themselves in a glorious show of blood and violence.

And then there's Hell itself, who seems to recognize love as an act of violence and cruelty. It is something that derives joy only from the suffering of other living creatures. God gave it so many toys to hurt and break and reform, and Mankind gave it new ones. Why would it understand love as anything but? It gave Minos a facsimile of the son he is most ashamed of, and delighted when he cast it, once more, into a labyrinth. Gabriel flattened all the souls within it's confines beneath his heel and gave those that did bend false hopes.

Now there's V1, tearing its way through the remaining layers and creating a spectacle of violence like nothing Hell has ever witnessed before. How could it not love them all for all the entertainment they've provided?

But deep within its recesses, hidden away from the eyes of Heaven, there was a Gutterman. A machine built for war, who eventually came to love that which it gave it life at the cost of their own. Enough to give the human welded within their coffin the mercy that both Heaven and Hell had denied them; enough to write a single love letter to them, even knowing that it would never be read by its intended recipient.

So, as things turn out, you /can/ teach a machine to love. And they will understand and experience it more sincerely than God or Hell ever could.

#ULTRAKILL #ULTRAKILL spoilers #Mind you this is all just speculation #We still don't know if Hell is aware that the machines will inevitably try to consume it too once the souls and demons run dry #and if it is then whether or not it has a plan to stop that from happening or if it actually /wants/ to be destroyed #or perhaps--like Father like creation--it simply thinks it /cannot/ be destroyed #and we certainly still don't know where God fucked off to after his suicide attempt or why #If he left to seek the end of his days elsewhere #Or--as the first testament might imply--if he's got a new angle #Sorry 7-S got my brain buzzing and there's not a whole lot of game left to get the answers to those particular questions #If they are intended to be answered at all or simply left unknown by the blank slate boomer shooter protagonist #through which we all experience this wild ride #Anyways not a lot of this fandom talks about the Testaments effectively being God's vent posts #and I find both amusement and mild horror at their very existence

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add1ctedt0you · 5 months

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Sucker for pain

That's for all the writers who look at jiang cheng and decide to put him through other unimaginable woes. <3 As if his life wasn't rough enough lol.

#Like. Most of wwx fic I have read were like:' everyone should be sorry for wwx and acknowledge his grief to the point of being ooc'#'We just want people to love and protect awu innocent xianxian'#And then there are jc fics where authors are like: ohhhhhhh. The stages of grief are five???? Good. jc is going to expiriece 12 stages #of grief!!!!#You blink and the jc is put through non-con. calamities. deaths. tortures. trauma. rough times. in particular wwx-related-rough-time #authors are like: 'he didn't suffer enough: we'll make him experience every pain and woes known to humankind'#And at the end of the fic jc is almost always like: 'time to get up from this puddle of my own blood and see how jl is doing'#It's wild tbh. I've few theories why this happens lmao #If it wasn't clear: keep it up you all!#*mgifs #*stp #jiang cheng

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rhymaes · 5 months

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The Untamed, Ep. 11 // The Untamed, Ep. 48

#you can’t cross the distance to your brother but you can build a doorway to watch the loss through!!!#INSANE SHIT. GOD. HIS FACE. THE TRAGEDY OF LOSING SOMETHING AS YOU HOLD IT #AND MERLIN BADE FAREWELL TO THE KING HE HAD CREATED!!!#THIS HAPPENED LONG AGO NOTHING CAN BE DONE TO CHANGE IT!! FUCK. FUCK!!#Wei wuxian saying the cruelest thing he possibly could to his brother thinking it’s the kindest & just.#the way it world destroy both of them to know that. good. god.#the best part abt rewatching this series is 1.) I can understand what’s actually happening & the foreshadowing SLAYS & 2.) their relationsh #ip & seeing just how badly Wei wuxian backed himself in thta corner & Jiang cheng should have known to help him but he didn’t know how to lo #ok yet. because that came wijt time and experience and not having to build your home back up from the ground where evil people killed your p #arents & tortured your brother & now neither of you can really speak correctly to each other because there’s a gap #you don’t know how to cross because you don’t know yet who put it there #& then 16 years later in a temple you see what it is and why it’s there and that your brother will never #try to cross it because he thinks it’s a kindness #when all you’ve ever wanted was for him to stay.#ANYWAY. CRAZY HUH #the untamed #mdzs #jiang cheng #jiang wanyin #wei wuxian #wei wuxain #I don’t know the right spelling now these tags r making me doubt SO #wei ying

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grandcovenant · 5 months

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carlo's inherent tragedy as a character means that if he hadn't died young he would've gone through something worse. the horrifying realization that he inherited his father's personality <3

#lies of p #geppetto is over and over mentioned and shown to be a very stubborn man.#and the little we see of carlo.... it works.... he was in fact kind of a bull-headed little brat.#and everyone knows how much parents with strong personalities ~loooooooove~ when their kids. get it from them.#i'm not ragging on carlo. the basis of personality that is inherited is not the sole defining factor in what a person is like--#--and what is developed & changed by one's experiences would make them very different people still.#THAT SAID: i do think carlo achieving his little dream of being The Best Stalker In The World WOULD put him at risk of.#going down the same path his dear old man did :^)#there's something about being at the top of your field and what being the unquestioned authority in all that pertains to it can--#--very easily make one close-minded and set in their ways. it's probably what happened with geppetto.#i mean if my timeline is right he fucked with venigni's grand covenant long before he needed to enact mass murder to resurrect his son.#which to me speaks of him considering only himself as a trustworthy authority for a long time.#the tags in these posts really are the main feature now huh. sorry about that i just like talking here better.👍its like a secret post.#anyway. LOVE YOU DEAD BOY

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fedoraspooky · 5 months

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Heck with it *tosses AU where he was developed in the lab as a dragon hybrid onto the massive pile of AUs as well*

Don't look at me, blame @mysticdoodles for this adorableness XD

#littol baby man #this is what happens to comfort ocs they get buried under a thousand what-if scenarios XD ;#baby dragon AU #myOCs #Charlie #cosmic fiasco #probs won't be as fleshed out as canon or cryptid au but i wanted to doodle this so yeah XD #but yeah to explain #basically aria corp experimented with dragon eggs and gene splicing with low amounts of human dna to allow for better control #only two eggs survived- a fire dragon and an ice dragon #the fire egg was lost in transport- Tikki found it and raised the baby dragon that hatched from it #the ice egg hatched in the facility- that dragon underwent rigorous training and a strict upbringing #and was later sent to recapture his firey 'half-brother' (while the eggs were from different nests the human dna used was the same)#after a few fights the ice dragon starts to spend more time spying on his quarry #and realizes hey... fire dragon kinda has a way better life than he does...#basically tikki ends up raising two half-dragons that are constantly bickering with each other lol

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ohmuqueen · 7 months

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Comments from sherlockwols in the SHINee Reddit on the MV trailer that got me even more excited

Edit: more additions to the above comments

youtube

#taemin #lee taemin #shinee #taemin guilty #I’m so blown away #I’m just so so excited and freaking out #like I think my heart rate sped up watching it #and I’m SURE he meant to allude to the military- and it just is so impactful #that he would use his art to give voice to that experience #also I LOVE that this is so narrative based - it makes me so happy that he’s telling a story #not that I didn’t except it but to see it happening I am just ECSTATIC #the narratives of NGDA era were so masterful and the message of advice so impactful I just love to see more storytelling from him 💜#*not that I didn’t expect it #ltmguilty meta

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mollysunder · 5 months

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Time travel is pretty op in League, and doubly so in Arcane, the drawbacks might be devastating tho.

This exchange always comes to mind because it's so ironic, Ekko does that all the time with the Z-Drive he just doesn't have it right now. For the concept to then be straightforwardly called out as dangerous just screams dark foreshadowing to people (Ekko) who practice it.

Ekko even has a real voice line where he jokes about the after-effects of time travel.

#arcane #ekko arcane #ekko #ekko is such a well of angst #it's already a mindfuck to literally experience other timelines none of your companions remember or expeirenced #so you there's a lingering feeling that you can't be sure it happened #but you have this power and you KNOW it did but some timelines are SO horrible why bother believing it happened #now include the possibility of BRAIN DAMAGE #and even if he noticed Ekko would still keep going becuz if he had the opportunity to change things from going wrong he'd take it #look at what happened with cait and the crystal he wanted to use it and was steered away #Ekko's probably going to be more reluctant to listen to other's caution and follow his gut #arcane meta #ekko lol #league of legends

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jasontoddenthusiastt · 4 months

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“Jason should get over being upset about his death” - he has, he wasn’t angry at Bruce or the world because they failed him and he ended up dying, which he made clear plain as day and that’s about the most reasonable a person who went through what he went through could be

anyway I don’t think these people realize how gory being bludgeoned to near death is, and maybe it's because of the limitations of the medium that scene was presented in

#not to mention he had to process the added heartbreak of his birth mother’s rejection/betrayal at the same time #like yeah he was cocky and smiling in the uth movie go Jason go but that’s also the same movie that drastically changed the context #and tone of that scene by erasing Sheila #kelseethe #I remember the first time reading aditf I got flashbacks to a Korean horror movie that still puts me in a weird place #anyway it was about a serial killer who went around killing people by beating their skulls in with a hammer #one of the plots was centered around a victim who didn’t die after the first attack and even managed to escape at first #long story short she was running around trying to get help and the cops were useless + he ended up finding her again and finished the job #sfx brains skull blood and viscera everywhere #and that’s exactly what happened to Jason you just didn’t see any gore because it’s an American comic #nor did you hear his screams and the sounds from metal making contact with bone and guts #and like I said the uth movie was pretty sanitized too same for the titans show which also downplayed his death lol #anyway I think it’s really forgiving of Jason not to blame Bruce or anyone else for the fact that they let the circumstances lead to that #and to instead only criticize how nothing was done in the aftermath #Idk I always found it a bit fascinating how it doesn’t seem to have dawned on most people including his fans #exactly how violent that experience was

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puhpandas · 7 months

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Rabbit Burrow

(3,785 words) Part 1 (part 2 found here)

Tony Becker, one year after surviving the attack from GGY, tracks down Gregory post-SB. But he has to get through Vanessa before he can get to Gregory.

Tony likes to think his detective skills are pretty good. So when he swings a leg over the seat of his bike and wheels it near the entrance, he hopes it's the right place.

He'd tracked down Gregory to this apartment complex somewhere in Gale county. It's still in Hurricane, and Tony had been able to reach it with just a bus ride. The apartment is somewhat run-down, but clean enough to where you can tell it's well kept, just old. The air conditioning units he passes on the way to the front door are brand new.

He'd taken the closest bus to Gale county right after school let out. He'd been restless all day up until finally acting on his findings. Tony has been searching for Gregory for a year. Finally finding something and having to wait for his middle school day to end was agonizing. He just hopes his Mom and Grandma wont be too mad at him.

He'd wrestled his bike he'd ridden to school that day discreetly onto the bus and wedged it in-between his legs and the seat in front of him. The air had been humid and thick all day with the signs of a storm, and Tony had seen the dark clouds and heard the thunder peeking over the treeline outside the bus window on the way here. He ducks inside the front door and beats the rain by seconds.

"Can I help you?" The receptionist asks him, giving him a weird look when he steps inside. Shes a lady with long, styled black hair and covered in jewelry. Tony tries not to look too suspicious as he sends her a polite smile, heading to the elevator on the wall to the left. He would also be wary if someone he'd never seen walked into a resident building.

"Just seeing an old friend." He tells her. He presses the button to the third floor and tries to break her gaze by stepping behind the closing doors. The elevator shakes a bit before moving up.

He tries to take a deep breath. Theres some kind of excitement floating around in his chest at the fact that he's done it, but he pushes it down, lowering his expectations.

Despite his theories, he really has no clue what to expect. Theres some sort of worry mixing with the excitement, and all he decides is that if he escaped once, he can do it again.

It both took too long and not fast enough when he finally reaches the third floor. He double checks his crumpled sheet of notebook paper in his hand once, then a second time, something nervous but anticipating thrumming in his veins.

He steps onto the beige carpet of the long hallway, fresh vacuum marks in it, and follows the number plates by each door before coming to a stop near the middle of the hall.

3-05 The plate reads back to him. He quadruple checks his paper again. Its right.

He sighs out deeply, not even realizing he was holding his breath. Despite himself, his brows crease ever so slightly.

He shakes it away, pushing past it. Maybe digging too deep is what got him into trouble before, but its different now. Tony... Tony's learned things during his search for Gregorys location. If there was any point during his investigation that he would call digging too deep, it would have been months earlier from now.

Besides. Tony has always been bad at staving off his curiosity.

He thunks his knuckles on the white wood of the door quickly after that, three times in succession. He kind of bluescreens for a second when he realizes what he just did, then shakes it off. Waiting with wide eyes at the door, watching for a rattling of a doorknob or listening for incoming footsteps.

Nothing. He waits a few more minutes before knocking again, this time a little louder and harder.

Tony perks up when footsteps finally near the door, and his lips part prematurely when the doorknob rattles, not even put-together words yet on his tongue. They fall away immediately when a woman with blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail opens the door, one of those chain locks keeping it open maximum of three inches. "Hello?"

He stutters for a moment, words lost on his tongue, before he clears his throat, putting on a polite smile. "Hi, there." He says. "Um. Who are you?"

"I should be asking you that, kid." The woman raises a brow at him, never opening the door more than the chain lock allows it. She peers at him through the gap, and Tony tries as discreetly as possible to look past her head and shoulder into the apartment itself. "What are you doing here?"

When he looks back, shes still looking at him in a way Tony can only describe as cautious. The light in the hallway on the ceiling is flickering, and it casts split second shadows on the womans face that makes the bags under her eyes that much more prominent and her face that much more intimidating. "Well?"

Tony realizes he hasnt answered, and coughs slighty. "Oh. Sorry." He says, reluctant to continue. "I'm... I'm looking for Gregory."

Tony watches intensely to see if the name rings a bell or catches her attention. Just as he expects, her face twists ever so slightly in recognition. Tony catches something adjacent to panic or fear in her eyes until it's gone not half a second later.

"Who's asking?" She asks eventually, voice carefully even after a what appeared to Tony to be a mini conundrum in her head.

"His friend." He answers honestly. He ducks his head when the woman scrutinizes him, looking almost angry, but restrained enough to not show it. "I mean it," He says earnestly. "he and I... we were best friends. Last year. I came here to look for him."

Her eyes widen ever so slightly at that, and she studies him, eyes flicking back and forth over his face and his clothes and his hair. Tony doesnt miss the way her eyes linger for a millisecond on his scars. Its silent in the hall save for the two looking at eachother, and the buzzing of the flickering light on the ceiling is enough to save him from hearing his own heartbeat.

"Okay." She says eventually, and Tony subconsciously feels himself sag a bit at the relief that he won't turned away right as he was this close. She shuts the door without a word, and all Tony can do is stare at the peeling landlord white paint on the door as the sounds of the woman unlatching the multiple locks on the other side reach his ears. He waits patiently, until she cracks the door open not much wider than it had been with the lock, but just enough to fit his body in. "Come in. But no word to anyone. Got it?"

About what? Tony's about to ask, but then he steps through the door and the words die on his tongue.

"Oh." He says outwardly when Glamrock Freddy Fazbear sits on the couch. His body is adjacent to the patchwork quilt Tony has on his bed that his Grandma made him, and any of the makeup he had been painted with has long since scratched off.

His eyes are shut, and theres two jump cables attached to his ears that are plugged into a portable something. He doesn't so much as twitch when Tony enters the room.

The woman gives him a look after she re-locks only the deadbolt behind him and passes him into the apartment. "Oh." He repeats. "Not a word."

She nods at him, and it's only now that Tony can see the rest of her that isnt just her face. Shes in her twenties, if he had to guess, and she has a white tank top on with some sort of stain near the collar along with Hello Kitty fleece pajama pants. Her socks are mismatched and her nails are painted a purple color that could rival the deep bags under her eyes.

She collapses into an armchair (which hes pretty sure has a mismatched leg attached to it half-hazardously) and only looks at him silently as he steps further into the house, not so discreetly angling his body to get a peek past walls and open doors across the house.

Shes about to speak when Tony does first, "Wheres Greg?" He asks straight up. "Can I see him?"

Her lips twitch, and she just leans further back into the chair. The TV is playing some sort of Spring baking show, and the droning of the host mixes with the pattering of the rain on the window on the wall by the TV.

Anticipation and impatient-ness buzzes under his skin at being right here, and this woman undoubtedly knowing Gregory certainly doesnt help.

She only hesitates for a moment, but Tony can see the influx of thoughts that undoubtedly ran through her mind. She opens her mouth, taking a slow breath, before, "At school."

"He goes to school?" Tony gasps slightly, eyes widening. He moves to the couch, toeing past Freddy Fazbear as to not touch him even with just a brush of his jeans before sitting down, facing her. "What school?"

"He goes to Raindrop." The woman tells him, seemingly not hesitating this time.

It doesn't ring a bell, but it must be a middle school in Gale county. "...I go to Hailstorm." Tony says. "We both did. Or used to."

She stares at him after that, fingers drumming on the arm of her chair. She says nothing, just scrutinizing him, before, "You sure have a lot of cryptic ways of telling me how you used to know Gregory."

He wants to apologize, because it seems like what to do in response to that statement, but for some reason, that feeling in his gut he's learned to trust as his Detective sense tells him that he shouldn't.

Shes still looking at him intensely, and the rain outside pattering on the window somehow feels louder. There's some thunder outside that rumbles the floor, and the lighting casts a shadow on the living room. A few white lines across the coffee table caused by the blinds covering the window.

Her face doesnt so much as twitch, he notices, and she doesn't blink when she looks at him. Her green eyes bore into him, almost glowing in the shadow cast beneath her bangs. It reminds him of how he'd done to her not minutes ago. What he does to people he wants to analyze. To see how they react to something.

That's what shes waiting for, he realizes. He has a feeling that if he doesnt match her cryptic bluntness and instead apologizes and caves that easily, that it will somehow result in her turning him away.

Theres a glint in her eye when he becomes aware of reality again enough to look, and he thinks she somehow just came to the conclusion that Tony figured it out.

Then, he tries to sit up a bit straighter, and muster up that same glint mirroring back at him. "You sure have a cryptic way of letting me know you dont trust me."

Her mouth twitches slightly, but its all Tony needs to know he'd guessed correctly.

Its silent for a moment, and the woman grabs the remote on the next arm over and pauses the baking show she'd been watching. She shifts in the red velvet seat, as if getting comfortable, before, "Tell me how you know Gregory, and I'll tell you how I know him."

He has a feeling he isnt getting to Gregory unless he gets through this woman first, so he clears his throat, leaning his forearms on his knees.

"Me and Gregory met early last year at the beginning of the school year." He begins. "Right after summer ended in August. He was the new kid, and he sat at our table at lunch since it was mostly empty. Me and my friend arent the most popular, so there was room to spare."

She waves a hand, signaling him to stop. "Your friend?" She asks. He nods. "How many of there were you?"

"...Just me and E-- my friend." He says. "There were two of us, and when Greg sat at our table, we remembered how he looked a little lost earlier in class and we introduced ourselves. Then we just... clicked, I guess. He would partner with us in creative writing."

"Writing, huh?" She smiles slightly.

"Yeah." He replies. "Then, it was just business as usual for the months afterwards." He pauses, fidgeting with the hem of his jacket he loves so much that reminds him of the trenchcoats big city investigators wear. "Then... I had gotten wrapped up in this mystery."

She shifts, crossing a leg over the over and holding her hands together. "A mystery?"

Tony nods, remembering it like it was yesterday. He thumbs the part of arm where a scar is on his arm that his jacket covers. "The three of us would always go to the arcade in the Pizzaplex." He tells her. "And one day, I noticed high scores that seemed impossible to reach, and I became obsessed with solving who it was who had gotten there."

Tony thinks hes very good at reading people. So he doesn't think it's just his imagination when the woman in front of him goes a little rigid in her seat.

Theres some sort of creases under her eyes, Tony notices, that weren't there before.

"What did you do?" She asks.

Tony has a feeling that she somehow knows already. So he doesnt beat around the bush.

"I solved the mystery, eventually." Tony says. "Because GGY had been Gregory, and he'd invited me to the Pizzaplex and tried to kill me."

She sags a bit, looking somehow infinitely more tired, but no surprise detected. "But you survived."

"Not..." He shakes his head, picking at the skin by his fingernails. "I wouldn't have. If not for Greg saving me."

"Huh?"

"He--" Tony searches for the words, looking at the carpet between his knees and remembering that afternoon in every vivid detail he'd looked over countless times before. "He'd tried to kill me, yeah, but... he was almost fighting himself as he did it. He was like having a fistfight with himself."

He doesn't look up at her, he just keeps remembering how Gregory had gone rigid right before plunging the knife into Tony's gut a second time and stopped himself. How it had looked like somebody yanked Gregory backwards, but it had been his own self throwing his body. Just so he didnt hurt Tony again.

"He looked like he was a malfunctioning robot." He recalls. "He was like, hitting himself, and was making noises like he was fighting something. I was too frozen to move at the time, but then he threw me a really high security pass for the Pizzaplex and told me to run."

Then he had collapsed in front of him, like he was holding himself down. He doesn't tell the woman, though.

He looks back up to see her staring, eyes wide in suprise. She looks deep in thought for all but a few moments before shaking herself out of it. "So what did you do?"

"I ran." Tony says. "He had got me already. He stabbed me in the back, the first time. That was how I knew he was attacking me in the first place. But I ran away with the pass, and I went to a room with a ton of monitors and erased the security footage."

Her eyes blow wide as saucers, that time. "You got stabbed," she begins. "and instead of getting help, you erase the security footage?"

"Yeah." Tony nods. "Greg would have gotten in trouble if I didnt."

She's silent, after that. Tony just keeps picking at the skin on his fingers. "I somehow knew that Gregory didnt deserve to be. He just..." Tony trails off. "He didnt seem..."

"Seem like himself?" She suddenly cuts in, and Tony's eyes widen.

He nods, a small tilt of his head, and the woman sighs. "That's what being mind controlled will do to you."

A year ago, probably longer by now, Tony would have never believed that. He would have never thought something so outlandish that is only ever shown in fiction could be a possibility.

Not that he was wrong, to. Really, anyone in their right mind wouldnt think so. But things have changed since then.

And Tony has seen a lot of things during his search that probably nobody else has. Plus, This woman has been so cryptic up to this point. If she told him this straight up, and it's clear that she knows Gregory...

Suddenly, everything that day seems to make perfect sense. And everything he'd found that he'd filed away into his little mental Gregory crazy wall.

(He'd used to call it evidence wall, like normal people do. But, well, at some point, maybe Tony had thought the things he'd been finding were a bit too crazy to deem as normal.)

Theres been a stretch of silence while Tony had been taking that in, and he only breaks it to say, "Is mind control a topic you're familiar with in this house?"

Her eye twitches, a bit. And now that Tony is looking for it, he notices that same strange sheen on her eyes that Gregory had during their friendship. That weird red tinted film that makes their eyes turn a completely different color when the light hits them right.

Tony doesnt yet understand how the mind control Gregory had been under works, but all he can hope is that there are some side effects.

She stares at him, eyes narrow, and theres another roar of thunder outside the window.

"Who are you?"

"Tony." He answers. "Tony Becker. Ring a bell?"

She hums, and she looks at him in a way where he feels like he's being dissected.

"He didnt remember anything for a while." She says eventually. "But hes been having dreams, lately. Sometimes he talks about two kids he used to be friends with."

"Me and Ellis." Tony's eyes widen. It doesn't even occur to him that he shouldn't share Ellis's name.

"He worries about you." She says. "I've heard him say he hopes you're okay. You and that other kid. You must have been close if he remembers being that good of friends with the two of you."

"We were." Tony replies. Memories of him, Ellis, and Greg going to the Pizzaplex and trying to get the most dunks in the basketball hoops flash in his mind. He thinks about when Gregory would come over to Tony's little run down house that he shares with his Grandma, and they write graphic novels together for the fun of it.

Gregory liked to call them comics before he'd suddenly decided that stuff wasnt cool anymore and stopped coming over. It had been like everything Tony saw him enjoy that wasnt painfully average for a child suddenly didn't mean anything to him anymore.

And then Gregory tried to kill him in a dusty back room.

Everything hed given up seems to make more sense now. It wasnt willingly at all.

"He doesn't remember your names." She speaks up suddenly, ripping Tony out of his thoughts. "But he remembers more and more every time he has a dream. Something reminded him of you one day, I guess. That must have been when it started."

Tony opens his mouth, but the beeping of a digital clock interrupts him. He follows the womans arm as it reaches across the seat to turn it off.

The time reads 5:00pm.

He watches as she looks over at him, and nods to the door. "After school activity." She informs him, getting up out of the seat. His eyes follow her as she moves towards the front door. "I'm his ride."

Tony's eyes widen at the implications. "So I just--"

"Stay here." She tells him. She grabs a flannel off of the small coat rack by the front door and slips it on, sliding some Adidas sandals on top of her socks and reaching in the pocket of the coat to grab car keys. She pulls them out, and Tony notices that theres a keychain of a white rabbit dangling from the key ring.

The breath is suddenly stolen from his lungs, and he bolts off of the couch, a buzzing under his skin. "You're bringing him?"

She nods to Freddy Fazbear. "If you can wait." She smiles at him, and it's the first time Tony has seen her smile, instead of the carefully kept nonchalant-ness. "He'll wake up pretty soon once he's done charging. So you won't be completely alone."

Tony doesnt know what to say to that. Thousands of words spawned from the thousands of thoughts hes had about finding and tracking down Gregory are on the tip of his tongue, but he only gets any out when the woman begins to leave the house.

"Wait!" Tony reaches out a hand. She turns around, a brow raised. The door is still slightly ajar, and the sound of heavy rain reaches his ears. "What's your name?"

She smiles a bit at the question. "Vanessa."

"Vanessa," He asks, oddly desperate. "Dont tell him I'm here." He swallows. "I want to see him remember me."

Vanessa tilts her head, but nods after a moment. "Sure, kid."

She smiles one last time on her way out, and says, "Tony Becker."

The sound of the rain outside disperses when the door shuts and locks, and Tony doesnt move for a long while. He just stares at the landlord white door, electricity under his skin and something floaty in his stomach.

Greg. He thinks in his mind when he finally rips himself away and looks around some more, seeing a door propped slightly open down the hall with a bed and a desk with pencils and paper strewn all about. He doesn't dare go in, but stares at what he can see. Its been a while.

The silence is numbing, when he can only hear the faint whirring of Freddy Fazbear on the couch next to him and the rain on the window, he plants himself on the couch cushion next to the animatronic, grabbing the remote and resuming the baking show Vanessa had been watching.

He doesn't listen to a word. He just trembles with anticipation and bobs his leg up and down as he stares at a random corner of the screen.

ao3 link

#i had a lot of fun with this one. if you need help understanding the strange interactions between tony and vanessa #its supposed to be a right of passage i guess. vanessa doesnt want anybody else to get involved #or to drag back any of the vanny & ggy stuff.#not if theyre not serious. so if tony had apologized #it would have shown vanessa that she shouldnt humor him and to just turn him away so he doesnt get involved #because he'd just be a scared kid looking for his friend.#but tony matching her and showing that he understood the test and is still serious about it #& he also matches with gregorys descriptions #shes like alright you can know.#theres meant to be a part 2 to this little oneshot thing where gregory and tony actually reunite #but i still need to plan it out. ive been obsessed with detective rabbit reuniting for a bit now and wanting to write it so #it shouldnt take too long. but no promises lol #just wanted to write tony and experiment with something new and this happened :) it was fun #my fics #pandas writes #tony becker #fnaf gregory #detective rabbit #ggy #tales from the pizzaplex #twoshot #gregory #tony #ellis #vanessa #3 star fam #freddy #also rabbit burrow is a reference to the saying rabbit hole #but i made it burrow because like tony said #he crossed the line a long time ago

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