#but I want someone to break my brain

[spiralingswitch]

Why can't my brain pick if it finds doms or subs hotter? Like, on the one hand, I want to call them a good little girl. On the other hand, I want to be owned and not have a single thought

[aq2003]

like the important thing you must keep in mind about ten when you see him do literally anything is that he's soooooooooo so so so bad at actually isolating himself from other people. so TERMINALLY bad at it. he thinks to himself "i don't need human connection because everything i do causes pain and destruction to those around me :(" but then he experiences a crumb of human connection and his heart starts to spill out of his chest

[starry-bi-sky]

Childhood Friends Danny and Jason: Ch2 Remastered

-------------------------------------------------------------- late at night when the stars don't look quite right -------------------------------------------------------------- there's something burning in the empty room inside of my head fill it up with doubt let it in, let it spread

Jason nearly falls flat on his face when he sees the photo of Danny. He’s in a warehouse, finishing up with a gang selling drugs on his turf. The guys he’s got tied up are cursing up a storm at him, throwing every insult under the sun his way that he’s all heard before. His eyes drag over to them, and silently Jason adjusts his jacket to reveal the guns strapped to his thighs, his hand hovering over the handle of one. 

They all fall silent, and Jason moves his hand away. His phone in his other hand, texting Oracle to alert the police. Jason hates that he has to; these guys will be out of their cells in a matter of months, and nothing will change. 

But he’ll play nice. 

And then his phone buzzes, and when Jason looks down he sees a banner from Tim. A message he planned on ignoring, but his eyes skim over the text on instinct, and suddenly the air is stolen right from his lungs, and his thumb is hitting the screen before he can really think it through.

[Hey Jason, your best friend just appeared in Gotham for the first time since your funeral.]

Impossible. He thinks, yanking his phone close to his nose, as if that will make it any less real or fake. Danny hasn’t been in Gotham in years, Jason checked. But then the image loads, and then he’s staring Danny Fenton in the face. And then he’s greedily tracing every minute, new detail he can find. The gang left half-forgotten in his mind.

Danny’s got an undercut, it looks self-done. It looks good. He looks taller. He’s got piercings in his ears, gold and jewels lining up the sides like a magpie’s find. He’s got an eyebrow piercing. 

Something old, something new; Danny is smiling and it still looks just as Jason remembers it. Crooked, lopsided, warm like the sun and belying the mischief underneath it. He remembers to breathe in that moment, and the sound comes in sharp. Danny’s eyes are as blue as they’ve ever been. 

(“I don’ get why books talk so much about peoples’ eyes.” Danny complains to him one day when he’s visiting the manor, his legs thrown over Jason’s back like an anchor tied to its ship. They’re sunk into the mattress of Jason’s bed, sunlight peering through the windows. “They’re just eyes! I don’t need t’know that they’re ‘as blue as the sky,’ or- or the ocean, or whatever blue thing in the world there is.”) 

(Jason’s smile comes to him like breathing, and he twists around to lay on his back. His arms trap Danny’s legs to his stomach. “Pretty sure it’s jus’ for emphasis on how much they’re noticing the person’s face.”)

(Danny’s face scrunches up, and Jason’s smile splits into a grin, heart swelling three sizes on instinct. “I think it’s stupid, s’just some fuckin’ eyes.”)

(“Eyes are windows to the soul, Dan.” Jason retorts, barking out a laugh when Danny gives him a deadpan look. His hands creep for a pillow, one of the soft downy ones wrapped in silk, and he throws it at Danny’s face. “And besides, speak for yourself! Your eyes are the bluest thing I’ve ever seen.”) 

But most importantly, Danny looks tired. 

Hiding is something that comes free with the purchase of living in Gotham, and Danny’s good at hiding things, he always has, but Jason knows him like the palm of his hands. He looks tired, and Jason wants to reach through the screen and ask him why. There’s an age-worn look there, catching in the flint of his iris, where his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. 

Jason gets the ETA from Oracle, then leaves as fast as his legs can carry him and his grappling hook can zip through the air. He needs to see Danny with his own eyes, to confirm himself that Danny was here, and that it wasn’t his mind playing tricks on him. Or that it was Tim playing a cruel joke on him — and if it was, he’ll have to rethink his whole killing thing. 

Gotham’s air is warm and suffocating, but her winds bite at him as he soars through it.

It’s second nature for him to find the west end balcony, and Jason finds himself with his feet locked in place on the building beside it. Grappling hook in hand, and a balloon in his lungs, all swelled up and squishing the air out of him. 

It’s just his luck —with whatever he has left— that Danny is there as well. In the same spot he’s always been, with a cigarette caught between his teeth. He’s stuck halfway, head tilting, eyes closed, with the shadows of Gotham on his back and the light of the gala at his front. 

For a moment, for a fleeting, terrifying moment, Jason thinks Danny’s going to tilt himself back off the side.The thought has him blindly tilting himself forward with his heart in his throat. Hands reaching for his grappling hook, swinging down to drop down beside him.

Danny is staring at him before his feet even hit the ground, face nigh unreadable beyond the small, wary furrow of his brows. Danny’s never looked at him like that before, it feels like  stumbling on the last step of the stairs. 

Then, like fire to black powder something flashes and ignites in Danny’s eyes. Mouth curling, eyes burning, for a moment, just a moment, they’re kids again, getting into fights and turning soft hands punch-rough. Danny looks at Jason like he’s going to tear him to shreds.

Jason’s mouth runs dry like a desert in the summer, but his blood chills in fear cold in his veins. Why are you looking at me like that? His mouth opens, but his tongue is leaden in his throat, and no sound comes out. It’s me. Don’t you recognize me?  

Danny yanks the cigarette from his mouth like it burns him, his free hand gripping onto the railing like it’s the tether to a leash, nails threatening to turn into talons. “Red Hood.” He says, voice low and timbre, smoke dripping from his lips like dragon’s breath.  

Oh.

That’s right. Jason suffocates on his heart as it sinks and soars with relief. Danny doesn’t know it’s him. In his tunnel vision, he forgot that simple, easy fact. It’s not because it’s Jason that he’s angry. It still doesn’t explain, though, why Danny looks at him like he ought to sink his teeth into his throat and rip him open. 

He’s half-distracted by that, and then distracted by the need to drink in the sight of Danny again. A photo is one thing; the real person is another, and with his fear subsiding, Jason rakes his eyes over his best friend and swallows him whole. His eyes are bluer in person, his memory and Tim’s photo doesn’t do them justice, and Danny inherited his dad’s height. He’s gotten so tall. They both have. They both used to be such scrawny kids. 

So distracted is he, that he forgets to respond to Danny, to say anything. Not until Danny tries to dismiss himself, and Jason kickstarts into gear. White hot panic fills in his lungs, burning him up like magma. No, no, no, he’s moving without thinking, always when he’s with him, and he nearly latches onto Danny. Nearly wraps his hands around his arm to hold him in place. Don’t leave. You’re finally here; don’t go. 

Danny stays, but he stares at Jason’s reaching hands like he’ll bite them off, stares at Jason with his eyes burning, watchful. Jason’s excuse is lousy and he knows it, but he wants, wants, wants to stay and figure out every new thing about Danny. 

And he feels like he’s losing something. Time bleeds together beside him and Jason feels trapped behind a glass wall of his own making. Something old, something new. The distance of which Danny keeps him at is foreign to him. He hates it. 

Tell me everything, he thinks, because he can’t find the words to say it. He hands Danny a cigarette instead, and hopes that it’s enough. Tell me everything and more, tell me what I’ve missed. 

In the end, he still feels like he’s losing something, but he also feels like he’s missing something. Answers that are water, and that water is slipping through his fingers. Danny leaves him with more questions than answers; something that’s never happened before, and Jason watches him walk back inside with a spinning mind. 

What do you mean you spoke to my ghost?

I told you that the Joker killed me?

Have I told you anything else? Have I already told you everything I’ve wanted to?

What happened while I was gone? 

Is that why you’re scarred?

Because Jason isn’t blind, he’s never been. Not in Crime Alley, not as Robin, not now. And not when it comes to his best friend. He sees the silver lightning scars ripped jagged up Danny’s arm, sees that they disappear under his sleeves. He saw, faded as they were, invisible until the light hit right, as they spread like tree roots up his throat and across the side of his face.

Scars that Danny’s never had before. Scars he didn’t have when Jason was alive the first time. Scars he didn’t have the last time Jason saw him. Or — what he remembers to be the last time he saw him, because apparently he saw him as a ghost. He sees the curve of his ears and how they point more than a human’s should, he saw the glint of his canines, sharper than they should be; sharper than he remembers. Metaphorical fangs turned real.   

Jason should’ve asked where he got them from, should’ve taken Danny by the front of his collar and stopped him from leaving. Who did this to you? He should have said, a fire burning in his chest and wrapping around his throat, pulling his voice into a snarl. He should have said, his guns weighing heavy on his sides; Who did it. I’ll take care of it. Just tell me who. Tell me everything. 

Instead, something crawled into his mouth and died, and his tongue is glued to the roof of it. And he doesn’t say anything, because saying something means telling his best friend who he is. It means having to take off his helmet and mask. It means telling his best friend that he’s alive, that he has been. That despite being two halves of a whole, Jason spent five years letting him think he was dead. 

He can’t tell him, not when he’s in too deep already. Not when Jason is so unrecognizable to who he used to be that if he told him, Danny would hate him.

And Danny is still grieving him. So plain as day mourning, still angry over his death. Angry enough that he wants the Joker dead, angry enough that he wants to hang the noose and kick the chair out himself. 

Jason wishes he told him that he looks tired. 

Instead he’s standing alone on the balcony, trying to get his thoughts in order as music blares muffled through the gold-light door. He’s left staring at the crushed cigarette laying on the ground, Gotham’s ambience at his back and a poem hanging in the air that he has no words for. It’s already there. Like stars on a painted ceiling.

And there are so many questions he needs answers for. 

Like his ghost. His ghost.

What did Danny mean by his ghost? 

Does he really want to kill the Joker himself? Was it just the grief talking? Jason knows — or thinks he knows — Danny like the palm of his hands. He’s been through everything with him, he’s seen him say something and then immediately follow through with it. He knows when he’s being serious, he knows when he’s not. 

Danny wants to kill the Joker. Stealing is one thing; murder is another. And Danny wore a look on his face that looked like he meant it when he told Red Hood that he wanted to kill Joker. But saying and doing are two different things. Jason doesn’t know what to think.  

Something old, something new. Danny is still the same, and yet he’s changed so much. 

What did Danny mean by his ghost? 

Jason doesn’t ever remember being a ghost. But Danny knows the Joker killed him. He knows how he killed him. Danny’s parents are ghost scientists, and Jason remembers the letter he got one day telling him about the portal they were building in the basement. 

He remembers thinking about telling Bruce — this was something beyond the glowing green samples stored in the fridge, giving life to the food inside. This was beyond the weapons, the inventions they made that only saw the light of day when the Drs. Fenton brought them up to showcase them.

And he didn’t, because if he hadn’t told Bruce about everything before, he wasn’t going to start. He admits, it was part fear that Bruce might intervene and prevent him from seeing Danny that he didn’t.  

Neither of them had expected it to work — but it sounds like it did. 

(Jason has avoided Amity Park for a reason. He knows he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from going there if he didn’t. But now, he just might have to look into it. He’s missed too much.) 

And Danny wants to kill the Joker, and Jason isn’t sure if he means it or not. Because the look on his face when he said it is oh-so familiar. It’s the one he wore when he needed Jason to distract the clerk while he snuck behind the counter to steal cigarettes from the shelves. It was the one he wore when an older kid cornered them near one of Gotham’s many alleys, threatening them over something Jason can no longer remember clearly. 

(He remembers puffing himself up, rearing for a fight. Danny, with glass in his teeth and blood between his fingers, lands a square kick to the spot between the kid’s legs. His knees hit the ground, and Danny’s hand found Jason’s to drag them both out of there.)

It’s the look of a boy, Gotham-touched grime in his soul, soft fingers turned calloused and scarred, about to do something he’s not going to regret. It’s the look of a boy that has set his mind to something and is going to do it. Some might call it the eyes of a cornered animal, but Danny’s never been cornered, not when Jason’s been with him. 

(But Jason hasn’t been with him. Not for the last five years. So can he really say it wasn’t the eyes of a cornered animal?...Yes.) 

Jason gets off the balcony before he can be seen, and he shouldn’t, but he loiters. He should get back to patrol, the night is never over. Not in Gotham. But he stays, hidden atop the roof nearby.

—---------------

An hour later, Danny walks out the doors with a man Jason recognizes as Vlad Masters — another new mystery for him to uncover. The paparazzi have long since left. Gotham’s nights are dangerous and everyone knows that, not even the vultures would stick around for a scoop, not unless there was something worth seeing. 

A black limousine pulls up beside them, and Masters walks around the back to reach the other side. He’s bristled like an angry cat. “I thought I told you not to embarrass me.” He hisses, eyes snake-narrowed.

Danny, for the most part, just looks unbothered, his hands shoved into his pockets without a care. But he narrows his eyes right back, an expression made of stone. “You have a pretty low bar for what you think is embarrassing.” 

Masters just scowls, “I don’t understand you, I would have thought you’d spend the whole time mingling with the Waynes, badger.” He says. Danny ruffles at the nickname, lips curling into a snarl. Jason finds himself unconsciously mimicking him. “And yet, I find you sequestered away in the corner like a little fly on the wall. Were they not up to your standards?”  

‘Sequestered’ Danny mouths mockingly, eyes burning like he was going to claw his hand down Masters’ face. Instead, his hands dig into his arms. “I did talk to them, that’s more than I can say for you. You couldn’t even keep Mister Wayne’s attention for more than a minute.”  

Jason frowns, and Masters scoffs, puffing up like an owl with its ego bruised. “Regardless, I am not the one losing here. Or did you forget what you promised me?” 

Jason’s frown deepens. Danny doesn’t promise anything. At least, he doesn’t promise with just anyone. He deals; he repays; he indebts. But he does not promise. Promises were power, with only one side benefiting. It was trust to promise someone something. Danny doesn’t trust easily, neither of them do.

Something that hasn’t changed. Danny rears up angrily, mouth twisting, teeth baring, snarling out a fury sound. A wire cut live and sparking. He grabs the door handle and yanks it open harshly. “I didn’t promise you anything, Vlad.” He hisses, Jason strains to hear him. “I offered and you agreed. Do not fucking twist my words.” 

There it is. Jason should’ve known better, guilt string-plucking in his chest for his doubt. Danny doesn’t promise things; not to people like this Masters guy, at least. 

Danny grabs something from the car and throws himself back. “Don’t wait up.” He snarls, a wild thing just as Jason is, and yanks on a red hoodie over his arms. It zips up, and hangs off him, smothering the vest and button-up beneath. “I’ll meet you back at the hotel.” 

Then he slams the door shut, shoulders hunched and with a scowl carved into his face. They’re both made of broken glass; independence — disobedience — and rebellion cut into them from every broken beer bottle shattered on the streets.

(Jason makes a mental note to look into Vlad Masters — Danny’s never told him about him, so they must have met after he died. The man leaves a rot in Jason’s mouth, and there is a greed festering inside him that Jason knows has left him in decay.)

(He doesn’t like how close Masters acts with him, doesn’t like the affiliations between them both. Masters reminds him of Luthor and every other rich socialite with their hands in something dirty. He hates even more that Danny is making deals with him. What has he missed?)  

Jason follows after Danny, partially concerned that Danny is wandering Gotham alone. Regardless of what he can do, Gotham is still dangerous. It is bone-rotting, lung-choking and unforgiving. Danny knows this, Jason knows he does. He’s partially curious to know just where he’s going, and whether or not it was important enough to visit in the dead of Gotham’s bloody nights.

Danny surprises him — slipping between alleyways, sticking close to the shadows. Someone taught him how to be stealthy — or, at least, refined what stealth Danny already had. More new things that Jason needs to learn. More things he will never get to know. 

Who taught you that? 

Just what, exactly, have I missed?

I want to know everything. 

Five years is a long, long time to be away from someone. If a caterpillar can become a butterfly in two weeks, then what can five years do to a human? It’s a long time to change, to become something else entirely. Jason’s become someone new, and he thinks, so has Danny. 

Dread pools in his ribs, into his lungs, and weighs heavy on his heartstrings. The urge to drop down in front of Danny, to grab him by the arms and ask him to tell him everything, returns with a vengeance. This is why he avoided Amity Park. 

Will I still know you like I used to? Jason trails behind Danny from the rooftops, like a ghost. Do you still love the stars? Do you still take tea over coffee? Will you tell me, if I ask? 

And if he doesn’t? If he doesn’t ask, like he isn’t right now? 

If he doesn’t ask about his ghost — something that still boggles his mind, because it means the Fentons were right and that portal might have worked, and Danny found Jason’s ghost? If he doesn’t ask what his ghost told him, if he told him anything else? Did his ghost tell you that he was Robin, like he always wanted to?  

He will just have to keep his questions to himself. He will just have to tuck them into a folder in his mind, and file it under all of his other regrets.  

He feels like he’s Robin again; keeping secrets and hiding things from his best friend because it simply wasn’t safe enough for him to know. It’s maddening.  

Why has nothing changed since he died? Why has nothing changed, now that he was alive?

—---------------

Danny leads him to the Gotham Cemetery. Jason freezes outside the gates. Oh, he thinks.

Oh.

He thinks back to what he thought earlier. 

What could possibly be so important that he’d go to it in the dead of Gotham’s night? The cemetery. Of course. Something old, something new, something bittersweet sets over his tongue that he swallows down. 

Jason forces himself to follow. 

“Hey.” Danny says as Jason settles behind a tree, voice gentle in foreign familiarity. He’s standing at Jason’s grave, his hands shoved into his pockets. The light is low but it doesn’t stop Jason from seeing the starlight-soft look in Danny’s eyes and his half-tilted smile, the smile that Jason is more familiar with than the wary scowls. “Sorry I’m late.”

Guiltish misery wraps its hands around Jason’s lungs. Pin-prickingly, stabbing at his heartstrings, Jason’s mouth moves on its own; “It’s okay.” but no sound comes out. Danny doesn’t hear him, and neither does Jason himself.  

Danny sits down before Jason’s tombstone, groaning low and tiredly as his legs fold beneath him. He’s older than Jason, and immediately his mind switches over to all the jokes he used to lob him with. 

(“Need help crossing the street, old man?” Jason, eight years old, asks with a grin so wide and painful across his face; giggles in his chest. He hooks his elbow with Danny, and keeps him tight against his ribs. “You’ll need all the help you can get in your ancient age.”)

(“I’m not that old.” Danny says, glaring at him before they scurry across the street with the light still green. Traffic laws are a joke in Crime Alley, it’s like a game of frogger as the sound of honking horns and screeching tires follows their heels. “We’re six months apart!”)

(“Six months and four days, actually.” Jason corrects when they reach the other side, snickering as they race down the sidewalk. Drivers lean out their windows and curse them out as they get away, Danny dodges an empty soda can thrown at his head. “Can’t forget the four days.”)

“I would’ve come sooner.” Danny tells him, pulling him from child-fuzzy memories and back into reality. Jason peers around the tree to see him running a hand through his hair, head ducked down. His palm splaying against his neck. “Sorry I didn’t. I got scared.” 

Scared? Jason blinks, he leans against the bark and bumps his helmet against the wood. The thunk is loud in his ears, but Danny makes no indication that he heard. Of what? 

But Danny doesn’t say what, he drops his hand and glances off to the side. He sits like a man who isn’t quite sure what to do, his mouth pressed into a thin line, his eyes scrunched. Grief carves into the lines of his face like a sculptor carving into marble. 

“I was gonna get you flowers on my way here.” Danny continues. His voice cracks, begins to wobble, and Jason sees Danny’s jaw tighten and his eyes close for a moment. When they open, there’s a wobbling sheen on his bottom lashes; tears threatening to bleed.   

Danny flicks at the tears with the nail of his thumb, it does nothing. It just makes his breath hitch. “Um, but they- uh, didn’t have any open on the way here.” He says, giving Jason’s grave a tremulous smile. “Sorry, I’ll make sure to pick some up on my next visit.”   

Next visit. Jason’s heart squeezes uncomfortably, before he reels at the words. Danny’s going to be visiting again, after five years of being out of Gotham? Next visit, why are you visiting again? Was this the reason he came to Bruce’s little charity ball with Vlad Masters? So that he could come visit Jason’s grave?

It couldn’t have been. There are other ways to get to Gotham that don’t require making deals with shady rich men. Danny’s smart, smarter than Danny himself gives him credit for. He’s brilliant. Why did he need Masters’ help to get him to Gotham?

There had to be another reason why.

God, there were so many questions that Jason wants the answers to. He’ll find them, one way or another. 

But, he focuses in again. Danny is only here for the night. One night, and he doesn’t know when he’ll be back again. Jason wants to commit every detail of his best friend to memory before he leaves. 

“You like zinnias, right?” Danny pets the grass at his side absently, and yes. Yes, Jason does, and Danny remembers. Even five years from his death, he remembers. Of course he does. 

“Yeah, you do. You used to pick the petals up off the sidewalk from those uh, fuck — the vendors. The Victorian flower language too, I think. Got a book on that somewhere. I’ll get you red an’ yellow ones.” 

Grief traps in Jason’s chest, and he barely tamps down the bitter laugh forcing itself out of the chokehold of his throat. You fucking sap, you big fuckin’ sap.

Red zinnias. Steadfast beating of the heart. The irony. It’s got double the meaning now, now that he’s alive. But Danny doesn’t know that, so the heart that’s beating could only belong to him. But even with Jason alive, he’s hiding. Between the both of them, the only one here with a beating heart is Danny.

(Between the two of them, the only heart here is one that's made between the two of them.)

Yellow zinnias. Daily remembrance. Of course. That doesn’t need any explanation, the writing is right there on the wall. Raised, so that even the blind may read it. It doesn’t need to be said what that means, Jason can hear it on the wind, in the grass, in the trees. His heart crumpling like a rag being twisted out to drain the dirty water soaking in it. 

I miss you.

I miss you. 

I miss you. 

I’m right here. Is what Jason wants to say. It’s what he should say. He should step out from behind the tree; should speak up and say something. To announce his presence. To do something to let Danny know that he’s speaking to someone who is more than a ghost (who feels like one anyways) and a corpse in the ground. 

Here I am. Here I am. HERE I AM.

His feet are gravebound to the dirt, his tongue cut out of his mouth and shoved into a jar. He feels, in some way, like he’s clawing out of his own grave again, but the dirt keeps falling and his arms are burning. His lungs are filled with more soil than air. He’s not getting out. 

Shame burns cigarette smoke in the back of his throat, shriveling up what little remains of his tar-filled heart. It should be his lungs, and it’s got that too. His feet are grave-bound to the floor.

Danny’s begun to cry, much to Jason’s horror. It should be more incentive for Jason to step out. He doesn’t. His best friend sniffles and scrubs at his face, soaking tears into his hoodie’s sleeve. “I’m sorry for not visitin’ sooner,” he says, voice spiraling with grief, “I don’t have an excuse. I should’ve come sooner. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” 

Don’t be, Jason thinks. Finds himself surprised by the truth of it. He should be upset. Five years and not a single visit. He abandoned him like everyone else. Except he didn’t. 

He’s not upset, he can’t be. Not when Danny’s finally here. Not when he’s still crying over him five years after the fact. Not when he’s going to put flowers on his grave that means he thinks of him daily. Not when Danny knows who killed him and wants him dead. 

Jason isn’t sure of what to think of that still. He wants Bruce to kill the Joker. More importantly he wants change in Gotham. He wants something to be done. He doesn’t know if Danny is being honest or not — and honesty doesn’t mean anything if someone doesn’t act on it.  

Danny continues talking to his grave, his voice full with sorrow. He talks about the gala, about running into Bruce and talking to him again. 

Jason listens in dutiful silence, soaking in Danny’s voice like a sponge. This is what he was expecting on the balcony; this easy conversation. Except it’s not a conversation, Danny is talking and not expecting a response. Jason feels like a stranger imposing on his own grave.He should slink away, let Danny have his peace on his own.

He refuses to move. He can’t bring himself to.

If he closes his eyes, he can pretend that he's sitting in front of him. He can pretend he’s thirteen again, with him and Danny crawled under the bed at the manor and trading all the stories they couldn’t fit in their letters. Danny tells him about another fight he had with Dash Baxter, eyes rolling but smug teeth flashing in a stifled smile. Then he tells him about something Sam and Tucker did; about one of Sam’s protests she led against the biology lab, and Tucker coding his PDA to play Doom. Easy, stupid middle schooler shit.

They’d sneak out to the balcony for their vices, Danny clutching a carton of cheap cigarettes in hand. Alfred always finds the ones Jason hides, so they usually share whenever Danny comes to visit. Jason tells him about Gotham Academy, about the people there and the classes. Prep school is another beast entirely, he likes seeing Danny’s reactions to the politics that goes on inside. 

Or, further back, they’re eight again, climbing a rickety fire escape to the rooftop and hanging their feet over the edge to find Batman and Robin. Danny was in the lead before he left for Amity Park. Jason remembers it clearly; they’d spent all night outside on that rooftop. 

Jason doesn’t close his eyes.

Jazz decided to change career goals; psychology’s become more of a hobby for her, and she’s going to go to med school instead. She’s thinking of doing an internship in Metropolis. Danny says he’s glad that it’s not Gotham, and when he told Jazz this, she laughed at him and told him that she was going to save that for later. 

She’s Gotham-touched too, she knows it’s blood just as much as Danny does. She wants to help the people there, but knows what Gotham’s like. She knows what she can and cannot do. Determination doesn’t equate skill, it just means the willingness to learn. 

Sam is staying in Amity Park and doing online classes for college, but Tucker got a full ride scholarship in software engineering. Danny’s thick with pride as he tells Jason’s headstone. Jason’s happy for him — they weren’t close, not like he and Danny were, but they were still friends. 

Jason soaks it all in; tell him more. He wants to know everything. 

"I don't know what I want to do." Danny says when he’s finally done talking about everyone else, his chin laying on his knees. “S’not like I can be an astronaut anymore, but there’s not anything I can see myself doing.”

The corner of his mouth coils, sardonic. “I’ve had five years to come up with somethin’ new, and I’ve come up with nothin’ at all.” He huffs. It’s a rough, bitter sound. Gotham has been steadily seeping back into his voice since he arrived in the graveyard, and now it comes out thick, like it never left. 

Danny’s face falls slack, like a puppet losing its strings, and he sinks into himself. “I guess I…” He exhales slow. “I’ve just been distracted.” A faraway glaze eclipses his eyes, and before they close, tears begin to bleed onto his eyelids. Again, grief mars the lines of his skin, settling into the curve of his mouth and threading between his brows like second nature.

Fuck, it’d be so easy for Jason to just step out. Move. His best friend is grieving. He could save him the pain of it and tell him now. Move, move, move. 

He doesn’t move.

For a while, there’s nothing but silence, just Jason hiding in his shame; a rat on the street would be bolder than him. Danny’s eyes don’t open. Eventually, his head tilts and slumps into his knees, Jason almost thinks, somehow, that he’s fallen asleep — but Danny’s hand threads into the hair on the back of his head, his finger beginning to tap an invisible beat into his skull. 

It’s the perfect opportunity for him to slip away. Danny’s distracted; lost in his thoughts. He won’t notice if Jason slinks off now. He could go and hide away on a roof nearby, ensuring that Danny gets his rightful privacy without leaving him to the teeth of the streets.  

Jason still doesn’t move. 

Danny begins to hum. It’s a low, breathy sound, and it shakes unevenly. There’s no discernible melody, but a breeze picks it up and travels it through the air anyway, rooting Jason to his spot. His throat swells, and his back sinks into the bark behind him. 

For a full minute, maybe two, Danny just hums. It’s a simple tune, but it fills the graveyard with the sound. When it goes up, he sharpens, when he goes down again, it flats, and sometimes it wobbles.  

When he lifts his head, when he finally opens his eyes, he’s still humming. Soon it dies down, and the next time Danny exhales, it comes out tumultuous and slow. His hand slips heavy from his head and drops into the grass. 

“Where’d you go, Jay?” Danny mutters, and despite his voice coming flat, he still sounds so tired. Danny’s eyes flick up, lifting off the grass to burn into the headstone. He’s not even looking at him, and yet Jason still freezes up, he still feels pinned under the weight of his stare. “I know you’re still out there, somewhere. I know it.” 

Jason breathes in shakily, a sting deep in the back of his throat. He gives no answer; guilt is an animal with claws, and it burrows deep into Jason’s heart to make itself a home between the tendons. He’s right here. 

Silence falls over them again, and this time it’s only the sound of the city around them that bleeds into the air. Danny stares at Jason’s grave, staring like he’s expecting an answer. He doesn’t get one. 

Danny sighs out low, and stands. His knees tremble slightly, and he rubs his sleeve into his eyes, catching the stray tears falling from his lashes. Like breaking a spell, Jason jolts from the fog of sorrow hanging in the air. 

“I’ll see you later, an’ I’ll make sure to bring you those flowers you like.” He tells him, and miraculously, a shadow of a smile flits over Danny’s mouth. “Y’better be here when I get back, alright? I’ll kick y’fucking ass if you’re not.” 

Jason bites back a huff, his mouth upturning in a wobble. I will, he thinks, and watches Danny trail out of the graveyard with his hands in his pockets. He waits until he’s disappeared behind the gate before following.   

Guilt is a thing with claws, and Jason leaves the cemetery with it eating his tongue. But he makes sure Danny gets back to his hotel safe before he slinks back to Crime Alley; he might not be a ghost anymore, but he can still trail behind Danny like he is. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

ayy i finally got chapter 2 of CFAU/TMWS edited/redone! It had to get rewritten because a lot of stuff became obsolete in the wake of the new chapter 1. and also it just kinda. fucking sucked imo lmao

(you can also read it here on my ao3!)

[equalseleventhirds]

things which, while not universally hated, are often treated with disdain by some ttrpg players:

pvp

dungeon crawls

resource tracking

unwinnable fights/situations

metagaming

gm not preparing the adventure details beforehand

things am trying to put in my games

pvp

dungeon crawls

resource tracking

unwinnable fights/situations

metagaming

gm not preparing the adventure details beforehand

[i-really-like-phrogs]

When someone else’s art is so good you physically can’t look at it because of artistic jealousy

[girlmetalsonic]

something that is like the baseline of amys entire character to me is that shes lonely. shes clingy and physically affectionate in a way none of her friends really are, shes always getting pushed aside and left behind. yeah, she helps out people she doesnt know because shes a nice person, but also, she sees part of herself in them. she wont leave someone else behind because she knows the feeling —and more importantly, hates the feeling. if she doesnt have somebody to stand by her and be there for her, then shes going to be that person for everybody else. something something her obsession with sonic is really just like a manifestation of that desire for closeness with someone, and she thinks that romance is the only way to get that. idk... this hedgehog can have so many abandonment issues.

[marxism-transgenderism]

.

[puppyeared]

ive made myself more wet and pathetic

[bleue-flora]

Ok sooo, I can’t stop thinking about the line from this post [here] by @swordfright , “Sam is a builder and dream is the ultimate engineering project: challenging (psychologically taxing to guard), important (to the stability of the server), rewarding (on those sporadic occasions when dream obeys him without question), and ceaseless (because the ideal prisoner always needs a warden to keep them in line.)” Because the idea that Dream is Sam’s “ultimate engineering project” really got me thinking about the definition of the duties of an engineer as per the Code of Ethics, which I studied in college.

As an engineer it is basically our responsibility to maintain sustainable development, which The National Society of Professional Engineers (NSPE) defines [here] in the Code of Ethics as, “meeting human needs for natural resources, industrial products, energy, food, transportation, shelter, and effective waste management while conserving and protecting environmental quality and the natural resource base essential for future development.” Even further, as a civil engineer (which I am and Sam is as a primary builder) it is our job to help provide the infrastructure and necessities to life, (shelter, water and by extension food +) with civil engineering encompassing the engineering fields of Structural (bridges, buildings, dams… etc), Utilities (power, gas, water, waste water… etc), Geotechnical (analyze and maintain that the ground can support projects), Environmental (protecting the stability of the environment like for example protecting the habitat of an endangered species), Transportation (roads for cars, train tracks, airplane runways… etc). Pretty much the necessities of civilization (lol hence civil). And I found this interesting because it is Sam’s job as the warden to provide the fundamental and basic necessities of Dream’s life in every way. So, in this way Dream would actually be the society Sam’s engineering is meant to benefit from and depends on (which he obviously denies and uses to abuse.)

But on the other side, interestingly a 2004 definition, [found here] of civil engineering based on Thomas Tredgold’s 1828 original is, “the art of working with the great sources of power in nature for the use and benefit of society”. And oh, the use of power here could very well be a good representation of Dream, making him actually the engineering project. Further, The NSPE Code of Ethics states, “Engineering has a direct and vital impact on the quality of life for all people. Accordingly, the services provided by engineers require honesty, impartiality, fairness, and equity, and must be dedicated to the protection of the public health, safety, and welfare.” In this sense, Sam’s position as the warden was dedicated to the protection of the public health, safety, and welfare, which by keeping Dream locked up, weakening him physically and mentally he was in essence trying to protect the server as well as working to strip the sources of power Dream had over everyone. And when his methods didn’t work, he let Quackity in, which funnily enough goes along with one of the The Institute of Industrial and Systems Engineers (IISS)’s summarizing stated [here] fundamental canons, “Engineers shall perform services only in the areas of their competence.” And clearly Sam was not competent in getting the book from Dream, so he teams up with Quackity, his contractor, to finish the project as is typical in the engineering industry.

All this to say, that Sam as an engineer, while not sworn to follow a defined code of ethics, still followed the general defined duties of engineering and strived to work for the betterment of the server. A personality and behavior, that Dream saw in him as they grew as friends and worked to build the prison - Sam’s passion for helping, to provide for and develop the necessities of society. His passion for wanting to use his skills to improve the world and help people. His strong principles of dependability, efficiency, justice, work ethic. If Sam was given a job to help people he was going to see it through to the best of his ability. He would not abandon his post, he would protect and serve the common good. - His strong engineering attitude made him a good choice in Dream’s mind for the warden, because of these qualities, which makes sense. What Dream did not realize is that he was not included in the society and all people Sam felt obligated to serve and provide for.

Instead, Dream was but a resource of power - the revival book - needing to be made efficient and accessible, so that everyone could benefit and share that power. Dream thought he’d be provided for and taken care of, but he was the project instead. Sam’s “ultimate engineering project” he deemed too damaged like a bumpy road or crumbling building that wasn’t worthy of patching and filling in the cracks or reinforcing, that’s too eroded to be fixed and preserved. So, Sam strived to tear him down to the bedrock so he could remake, remold, and reengineer Dream according to his design for the common safety, public health and well-fair. He was such a good engineer just like Dream knew he would be, he just forgot the whole teeny weeny ethics part of being an engineer that kind of comes with the job description… Oh well. ;)

[moongothic]

Yeah hello hi I've been falling deep into the Crocodad Rabbithole and my brain is being consumed by small crocodile-shaped worms

So I've done what any reasonable person would do, I went back to rewatch some scenes from Alabasta and Marinford to psychoanalyze Crocodile and try to figure out what the fuck his deal is because genuinely the more I think about it the more questions I have and the more I want answers. And because I'm deranged I need to write all my thoughts down into an incoherent essay and release it into the world

So please, come along with me while and let's be Extremely Normal About Sir Crocodile Together and speculate about his ~Secret Past~

Quick note, my quickest access to some of these episodes is either through unsubbed episodes (not bothering with getting screenshots since there's no subs, also my Japanese is plenty good enough to not need it here) or through Ancient, Questionable Fansubs so don't get too hung up on the phrasing in the subbed screenshots- like they're not entirely inaccurate but y'know

The reason I want to do this is just that... Like I've been a fan of OP since 2008, when I was in middle school. I don't think I ever really tried to think deeper about this series in general at that time, because I was a kid. For a long time to me Crocodile had just been Some Greedy Asshole who tried to take over a country to obtain a tool of mass destruction and IDK destroy the world? Just a very classic Bad Guy McVillianMan, because I had not bothered to think about his character and question anything before.

But now I have brainworms due to the Crocodad Theory, and this is fucking One Piece, you never fucking know how deep a rabbithole can go with this bloody series. So let's go, let's try to figure out what the fuck is Crocodile's deal, because I need to get these brainworms out of my fucking system

I just want to start with this one quick throw-away line because it's kind of a sidenote. Also like. This is such a funny fucking thing for Crocodile to say if he is Luffy's dad. Like.

That's so fucking funny if he's Luffy's dad holy shit

But what really gets me here is that like... Like while I'm like 70% sure Crocodile is trans, there's still a part of me that's like "there's no fucking way Crocodad is real". Let alone, this be some kind of a hint Oda planted to suggest that this early on. Like it sounds absurd. And yet at this point in One Piece, Oda had already started planning out and laying out the groundwork for so many lore and plot-relevant concepts, ranging from shit like everything about Robin, the Poneglyphs, the Ancient Weapons etc. He had already started the "Prince Sanji ARG" (aka dropping the tiniest fucking hints to Sanji's Hidden Backstory that people were able to pick up on and make accurate predictions with about Sanji's backstory). There's fucking Laboon, and about a bajillion other things. And possibly most importantly, by this point Oda had already revealed both Luffy's father and grandfather to the readers, not to mention he even introduced Ace and vaguely hinted at Sabo! It's not like Oda had everything perfectly planned out from the very begining, that is objectively not the case at all. But it also literally would not be unlike Oda to drop hints to a character's backstory like this. He has been doing that for years, and had already started by the time we met Crocodile. Like it feels insane and yet it's perfectly plausible. And if he had Luffy's dad, grandfather and two siblings planned out in his head already at this point, it should not be that much of a stretch to believe that Oda knows and no doubt has known for the past two decades who Luffy's mom is (regardless of if that's Crocodile or not)

All this to say. Crocodile's comment about what Cobra said to Vivi when they reunited is a funny, sarcastic comment. But it would take a whole new meaning if Crocodad was real. Because it really would be perfectly normal if he did/had wondered what he would say to his long lost child if they were ever reunited. And really that just makes his roast turn sad.

Anyways

In Alabasta, we do get a very clear image that Crocodile does not like the World Government, not just because he's a Big Meanie Pirate who wants to conquer the world, but because he does seem to look down on how the Marines + World Government do their "justice" (which, y'know, knowing what we know now about the Government. Fair. That's entirely fair.)

He also dislikes Vivi's "idealism" of wanting to save everyone without bloodshed or anyone losing their lives (especially for her sake)

We learn that he is a broken man with broken dreams. Also he seems to be aware where he (supposedy) belongs in the Grand Line's power hierarchy, as in, he needs Pluton because he knows he's not strong enough in combat that he could take down anyone, let alone the World Government by himself (though he would still make a beeline for Whitebeard's head the second he saw him at Marinford, which, y'know, bold move)

And of course, we learn in Impel Down that Crocodile and Iva-chan have some beef. We can not say for 100% sure what that beef is (like the theory he's trans is very obvious and plausible, but until Oda spills the beans we won't know for a fact what the beef is), but we know that they knew each other. And if Crocodile knew Iva-chan, a high-ranking founding member of the Revolutionary Army, then it is genuinely plausible that Crocodile could also have known Dragon and/or been a member of the Revolutionary Army as well.

Since overthrowing the World Nobles and the Government are the Revolutionary Army's goal, the fact that they're trying to obtain weapons and people for their cause etc, Crocodile's view of the Government and his "Operation Utopia" does kind of align with the Revolutionary Army's

But we did also learn from Iva that "Crocoboy" isn't quite trustworthy. Needless to say, even if Croc used to be a part of the Army, he most certainly left YEARS ago, and clearly not on good terms.

Also, an interesting note, is that at Marineford when Luffy and co finally arrive at the battlefield (episode 466, 17:25 minutes in), when Garp spots the group, he makes a specific comment about Crocodile being there together with the revolutionaries and the prison escapees, believing they can't all be here to fight for the same cause. Which is an interesting thing for him to point out specifically. Like Jinbei was another powerful person who entered that battlefield at the same time, and while Jinbei did clarify to Sengoku that he's quitting being a Shichibukai and was there to save Ace, it's still maybe a little odd Garp didn't think it was worth mentioning that Jinbei had also "allied" with the prison escapees and the revolutionaries to enter the battlefield. Like it was Crocodile only whom he thought needed to be pointed out. I don't think Garp's comment adds at all to Crocodad because it would frankly make little to no sense (like we're all assuming Crocodile didn't know Dragon's lastname, which is why he never realized Luffy was his son (despite knowing Luffy's lastname), but if Crocodile knew Garp was Dragon's father then surely he'd realize Dragon's lastname would be Monkey, right), but it could maybe add to the idea that Crocodile might've been a part of the Revolutionary Army in the past, as Garp could be aware of something like that, thus he'd be puzzled by Crocodile's presencee. Point is, it's an interesting comment, make of it what you will

EDIT 2: Ended up going back to reread parts of Marineford and turns out ^that^ was an anime-only addition from Toei. Like Garp does make a comment about how these people probs aren't at the battlefield for the same reasons but did not specifically point out Crocodile or anything. So. I wasted enough time adding these paragraphs to the post, I ain't deleting 'em. But y'know.

EDIT: Minor addition, because I just remembered how Crocodile really went like out of his way to taunt Vivi about how she "can't stop the rebellion" and save her people. Which, y'know, is a perfectly normal Villian Thing To Do. But we know Crocodile does not think fondly of the World Nobles just like he dislikes the Government. Even if Cobra was a "good monarch" who genuinely cared for his people, he was still a king, and the Nefertari family and the Kingdom of Alabasta were a part of the World Government. The thing Crocodile specifically wanted to destroy. And this is just another one of those "surely that wasn't somekinda foreshadowing" but god fucking dammit what if Crocodile telling a(n unknowing) representative of the World Government that she can't stop "the rebellion", or the revolution if I may, (regardless of if he's allied with them or not) was actually meant to be like foreshadowing. Oda I swear to fucking god---

Anyway, so, Crocodile might've been a part of the Revolutionary Army at one point (the army was formed after the Ohara Incident 22 years ago, and for Crocodad Theorizing, Luffy was born 19 years ago), but if he did he must have left on bad terms for unknown reasons, and we can tell that although his goals in general could vaguely match that of the Revolutionaries, his methods most certainly don't.

Whether or not his methods and his worldview tie to his leaving the Army is unknown. Because we don't really know when and how his worldview was formed.

Like did Crocodile leave the Army because he became a cynical asshole who was willing to make any kind of sacrifice for his goals (thus he no longer fit in with the rest of the Revolutionary Army), realized he was far too weak to ever become Pirate King and thus decided to go looking for Pluton? Or did Crocodile suggest to the Army they should try to obtain an Ancient Weapon to keep casulties to a minimum (still in line with the Army), only ending up getting kicked out (big weapon bad), and soon realizing he had no chance at making a change in the world without "cracking a few eggs"?

Like it doesn't nececarily make a massive difference,, since the end result is still the same, but it does kind of affect the context and how one might view him, right

Of course, there's then the Forbidden Third Option, that Crocodile left due to

Gender issues (internalized shame of being trans and not having it in him to stay around people who had known him)

Postpartum depression

Dragon just divorced Crocodile either due to being straight (in a sad, accepting way) or due to being simply unaccepting and frankly homophobic, regardless, Crocodile leaves with a broken heart

Something else and/or a combo of the above, really, we could speculate endlessly here about what could've happened

(Though I will say that Crocodile's '"trust issues"' and how he views people as disposable could like. I dunno. Be explained if he had gone through some heartbreak and was left permanently unable to open up to people, let alone trust anyone)

I dunno, there's a lot of options, a lot of things to considder.

But there is one more thing that I do want to note on as it could potentially debunk the Crocodad Theory entirely.

It's that Iva-chan didn't know Dragon had a son.

(Episode 441, 9:50 minutes) By which I mean, Iva-chan wasn't shocked to find out Luffy was Dragon's son, rather, they were shocked there was a son to begin with. (To the point they thought Ace was also Dragon's son until Luffy cleared it up for them later) While it's not a massive leap to believe that Crocodile and Dragon knew each other (since Crocodile knew Iva-chan), nor is it a massive leap to believe that Iva-chan transed Crocodile's gender after having Luffy... It does become a bit of a leap to believe Iva-chan didn't know about Dragon having a child with Crocodile before giving Croc the Magic HRT. Like if they had a relationship that resulted in a baby and a divorce, how did Iva not know about any of it, especially when it's more than likely that Iva could not have transitioned Crocodile until after the baby was born (let's not think about how Iva-chan's powers would work on a pregnant person too much)

We do also get this flashback (in episode 441, immidiately after Luffy reveals his dad's identity to Iva) where Iva-chan questions Dragon about how he always stares out towards East Blue when the wind blows, wondering if Dragon has family out there whom he's thinking about (Dragon refusing to comment on it). This does very much confirm that regardless of who Dragon had Luffy with, Iva has no fucking clue who, where and how any of that happened. And althought I personally feel like Iva not knowing would debunk Crocodad, if Crocodile still somehow was Luffy's dad, Iva-chan would canonically not know about it. If Iva didn't know Dragon had a relationship that resulted in a baby, then regardless of if Iva even knew Crocodile got pregnant once, they would not be able to connect those dots.

Now let's be clear, there's many potential scenarios where Crocodad could still be real, scenarios that could explain why and how Iva-chan didn't know about Luffy nor about Dragon and Crocodile having a relationship*. Like it would not be difficult at all to come up with an explanation for it. But in my mind, I feel like the more you have to figure out and explain how the theory could still be plausible, the less plausible it actually feels. Like the more I need to go out of my way to explain it, the more forced it seems.

*(For example, maybe the two kept their relationship a secret, and when Crocodile got pregnant he """left on a mission""" that happened to take like 4-10 months, during the time realizing he was trans. Once the baby had arrived he returned the baby to Dragon in secret for him to deal with, got a divorce for one reason or another*, and sought out Iva-chan to start a new life, Iva thus never found out about anything, just knew that Crocodile left one day after coming out. Like that's one plausible scenario.)

*Hey remember the potential Forbidden Reasons to why Crocodile might've left the Army? What if it was Dragon's and/or Crocodile's idea? Remember how when Jinbei is trying to escape Marinford with the unconcious Luffy, Crocodile tells Jinbei to do better job at "protecting those he wants to protect", a line that felt really sudden and odd coming from Crocodile of all people? What if the two knew their child would be in grave danger if he was ever raised within the army (absolutely not a place for a baby)? What if they knew their baby would become a target for the World Government to hunt, much like Roger's lost child was, if the Government found out Dragon had a baby? What if they wanted to make sure nothing bad ever happened to their baby and were willing to do anything to protect the baby? Even if it meant they'd never see their child grow up? Even if it meant hiding your child from your best friend, pretending to have a horrible fallout with them and transing your gender because Oda doesn't know what gender dysphoria is? Just so nobody would ever find out you had a child?

Mind you. I do not want anybody to think this is an actual argument for Crocodad. Like I could write a dozen different fanfics about how Crocodile could be Luffy's other dad, and they would all be just as much pure speculation with nothing to support them as the above suggestions. It is an example of what could have happened, and a deeply interesting thought, but it is just a theory at best.

In the end, it doesn't really matter though, because until the day Oda reveals Luffy's mom and/or Crocodile's backstory to us, we will truly never know for sure What The Fuck Crocodile's Deal Is

And I'll be just stuck with these brainworms, making myself sad by thinking about sad scenarios where Crocodad could be real, because truly, if it's canon, ain't no way it won't be sad

EDIT 3: Originally I thought it'd be good enough if I just rewatched some parts here and there, but in the end I just fucking absolutely caved the fuck in and went and reread The Good Parts of Marineford. Mainly because I knew I was forgetting things and Toei adding/changing things can affect a character reading. Also it was just going to be easier to go through the manga and literally just all of Crocodile's scenes into an image folder for easier browsing, mainly because there's so much shit that happens between those scattered scenes it can be hard to like focus on one thing (especially if you're trying to specifically FIND those scattered scenes and appearances)

So yeah. Coming back a few days later to add shit to this god forsaken post. I need help

Actually changed my mind and made a separate post to continue this nonsense, enjoy

[yuripira4e]

I want to preface this post by saying that I love the cat king as a character, especially one that has such a major impact on Edwin and his relationship with his queerness and learning to be okay with it; HOWEVER, I also believe that everyone that genuinely believes he should be a love interest for Edwin should read this. (Also if you just like the cat king as a character and want to understand his character better and why his and Edwin’s relationship is not something that would be healthy or “real” for either)

[skunkes]

unsure how to word this but there is something about having ocs with unsavory events happening in their past where it's like. talking about it, even when asked, seems almost gratuitous and inappropriate. and i'd much rather describe it through the oc themself and/or draw Them saying it. which is like. fitting for the subject matter? like of course its weird to talk about somebody else's business...!

and falls back into humanizing em/exploratory writing and development where u consider the impact of words said/words unsaid/HOW those words are said etc etc

[acrobattack]

another thing i was thinking about while zoning out at work last night is i’m a little surprised there’s no like. Name for characters who are based off the girls’ particular character model and powers. They’re so distinct from every other design in the show and they tend to gain the most popularity but there’s no real catch-all term for them, canon or otherwise

[cerise-on-top]

Haiii! I love your work :D

Could you possibly do a gaz x reader? When him and reader are celebrating their anniversary:), that would be really cute :’))

Hello! Thank you, I hope this is enjoyable as well! I went with a more fluffy route this time, I just wanna see Gaz happy and healthy and as far aways from any and all danger as possible! This request was really cute, I love Gaz! I'm glad there are several of us who do! Though I think I went a bit overboard with this, but how could I not when people are requesting best boi!

Celebrating Your Anniversary with Gaz

For the sake of this request, we’re gonna go with the idea that Gaz was able to be with you during your anniversary and didn’t end up being somewhere in the world, having to fight tooth and nail for his survival. We’re gonna go the fluffy route with this!

His memory is really good, Gaz would never forget something as important as your anniversary. Doesn’t matter if you’re together, doesn’t matter if you’re married. He has it memorized, he wrote it down on his phone, he noted it on several loose papers lying around just about anywhere. Trust me when I say he’s the last person to ever forget something like this. Although he would appreciate it if you remembered as well, he’d probably love it even more if, just once, you forgot about your anniversary, that way he could properly surprise and absolutely spoil you rotten. He wants to make your anniversaries days you can remember, so he will tailor them to your liking. You like going to arcades or amusement parks? A bookshop date? You just wanna go to McDonald’s? It’s all yours, and don’t you dare even think about paying, your wallet will not be strained on such a holy and sublime day.

The day would start off simple. You’d sleep in, if you can, cuddling for as long as possible, until one of you needs to get up for whatever reason. He’ll nuzzle into you, holding you as close to him as possible. He wants you to feel his warmth, how alive you make him feel, he wants you to feel how his heart beats for you and only you. Gaz has a beautiful voice, it’s fairly low and very calming to listen to. He’d hum your favorite tune that’s a bit calmer. He wants you to be as relaxed for him as possible, maybe even fall asleep in his arms again, even if he definitely wouldn’t mind you staying up to chat a bit with him as well. He’s gonna be all over you, making sure to touch you wherever he can so you feel secure with him. And when you’re drifting off to sleep again, that’s when his plan begins.

Gaz will plant a kiss on your neck or your forehead, whatever he can reach as he excuses himself to the bathroom. However, this sly dog will actually head for the kitchen to make you some breakfast. He’s a good cook, so whatever it is you like, he’ll make it. French toast? Scrambled eggs? Eggs and bacon? Your wish is his command, even if you never uttered a single order. He just hopes you won’t wake up or, even if you do, will at the very least stay in bed. This breakfast isn’t for you to enjoy in the kitchen or the living room, you’re to eat it in your bed. He even got you a nice tray so he can carry it to you without making a mess. Orange juice and all. You will be spoiled.

It’s then that he’ll wake you with another soft kiss to your temple, maybe shaking you awake a bit, so you can enjoy your breakfast together. Might even feed you a bit, just to be embarrassingly cute while he’s at it. The more content you look, the better. Afterwards, he’ll leave for the kitchen again, putting the tray away and decorating the living room a bit. There will be the most gorgeous roses you’ve ever seen in a vase, alongside several other flowers, each of which tells of a different kind of adoration. And when you finally follow suit and spot the flowers, he’ll just smile and claim that they looked very pretty. If you understand flower language, then you can tell he just really wanted to say he loved you in as many different ways as he could.

It’s then that he’ll ask you to get ready for the day, to brush your teeth and hair, and put on some clothes. You don’t need to look particularly fancy, he wants you to be as comfortable as you could possibly be. This is when he’ll take you to a place you like which, as mentioned before, could be just about anything. Waterpark, roller skate rink or just a lovely walk in the park, he’s open for everything. You will be accommodated accordingly. Those places are where you’ll be spending the majority of your day, grabbing something simple to eat for the time being, such as some fries or maybe some toast at a good cafe or pub.

When day meets night, he’ll take your hand in his, taking you to a fancy restaurant you’ve been to a few times. Preferably one where the both of you can look down at the city and see all the beautiful lights it has to offer. You’ll spend another two hours or so there. At the very least, you’ll be there until it gets dark, eating good food, having a good drink, maybe some wine as well. It doesn’t matter what you choose, all Gaz wants is to see the twinkling city lights dance in your eyes afterwards. When the evening is starting to roll over into night, he’ll take you to a ferris wheel. A big one where you can see the entire city from.

He’ll watch you as you excitedly look everywhere, taking in as many sights as you can, hoping that the ferris wheel stops at just the right time. Ideally, that would be right at the top. But he won’t be too picky if it’s somewhat to the side as well. As long as he gets to see your mouth agape at all the pretty lights, he’s content. While the ferris wheel stops, he’ll shoot his shot. If you’ve been together for a few years but aren’t married yet, he’ll propose to you. If you’re already married, he’ll still get down on one knee, take your hand in his and kiss its back tenderly, like a knight in shining armor. It’s embarrassingly sweet, but he knows no one but you is going to see it, so he does it anyway. You’re royalty in his eyes, you’re his to protect and care for, and he needs to show his loyalty however he can. Once he’s done kissing your hand, he’ll get up, holding your hand still and pulling you up with him, just so he can hold you close once again. Another tender kiss to your lips, and then he’ll get out a small box. Either the proposal ring or, if you’re married already, he’ll gift you a lovely little necklace made of pure silver. Something you can wear that will always remind you of him.

Once you’re down on the ground again, he’ll take your hand in his and lead you home, conversing with you about how much he loves you, how happy he is to have you in his life and how he hopes he gets to spend many, many more years like that with you.

If it’s not too late yet, you might watch a movie and cuddle on the couch. But you’ll likely both be tuckered out after today and just snuggle up in bed, ready for the next day.

And this is how Gaz’ ideal anniversary would go.

[melancholyfleurs]

hey cuties in my phone. i just want you to know i love you very much and life is so fucking hard but so worth living and if it’s dark for you rn just know i am rooting for you and i hope things get easier <3.

[purple8cat]

I THOUGHT THIS PART FROM VNC CHAPTER 62 LOOKED FAMILIAR

i mean they're not. the exact same but they are very similar to each other!!

Also this could just be me but I feel like that these two have a lot of parallels. Break's family are the Rainsworths, who are not his biological family. Johann's family is Dante and Riche, who also not his biological family.

When someone they care about dies/gets threaten their first instinct is murder. When the Sinclairs died Break killed 116 people to bring them back, and when he thought Reim had been permanently dead he killed Fang. When Vanitas had threaten to kill Dante, Johann told him that he'll kill him if he meddles with his family.

Another thing they have in common is that there both, how do I put this, angry in some way/some point in their life? Break had been bitter and depress after returning from the Abyss but then learned to smile again because of Shelly. Johann... Okay, I can't say much about Johann because not much has been revealed about him yet BUT he definitely is sketchy!! With how the Dhampirs are treated it wouldn't be far off to say he would be angry at the world/society. He also has been shown to not like Noé much. Johann has also been shown to be very protective of Dante and Riche, so it's possible that he could've been similar to how Break had acted in the past, and now has something to live for and would do ANYTHING to protect it.

Another thing I'm just now realizing and probably should've brought up first but they have similar vibes/atmospheres. Though Johann is more flirtatious and Break is more... Weird. I guess. Eccentric, if you want a fancy word. They're also have this whole... How do I explain it? They're good at observing/analyzing things is I guess the best way to explain it?

I think I'm gonna stop there, there was something else I kind of wanted to talk about but I think it was a little bit of a stench fkdjgfjdf. I could be wrong about some of these, I didn't mean to write this much so basically all of it I wrote on a whim. Whatever my brain thought of I wrote down which resulted in this (which reading over it might be noticeable considering this post is kinda a mess kgjkfjgjfj). There's also the fact that some of the Johann stuff was just speculation, which could 100% be wrong. But I do think some of it I'm right about!!