#i do not like the joker mouth lol

[stranded-ziggy]

Higgs Monaghan || Death Stranding 2 (Trailer)

[vse-kar-vem]

unearthed this ancient (may/june 2023) unfinished drawing of the demoni album cover

[jeonscatalyst]

Someone just told me that if a joker says things like…

“Jikook are in their own world”

“Jungkook pays attention to Jimin”

“Jungkook does whatever Jimin wants”

“Jungkook gives Jimin princess treatment”

“Jungkook doesn’t know what to do with himself when Jimin is not around”

“There is no platonic explanation for Jungkook having Jimin’s name on his chest”

….A taekooker is found kicking, screaming and popping veins somewhere. Their insecurities have gotten so loud that jokers cannot even make throw away statements or harmful jokes about Jikook anymore because what do you mean you are having a whole mental breakdown on your blogs because jokers say “jungkook treats jimin like a princess”? Whose fault is it that Jungkook gets back from a trip and cooks for Jimin? Whose fault is it that Jimin that when Jimin tells Jungkook he wants to do a travel show Jungkook accepts? Whose fault is it that Jungkook was walking around in a towel with a big “Jimin” written accross his chest? Whose fault is it that everyone noticed how different things were when Jimin was around Jk in AYS and when he wasn’t? You don’t see jokers going crazy when the cult says that Jk was snoring in Tae’s bed at 3am or when they claim that the Dream premiere (where Jk went back to his own house after and started a Live at 4am) was a taekook soft launch! 💀

Taekookers can say the most unhinged things like, Tae gave his wooga squad ring to Jk to wear on his pinky on his way to debut, or they can make up things in their heads and believe like claiming that Jk went straight to Tae after he got back from a trip (even though now we know for a fact that, that is true for Jikook) but jokers cannot even say cute and harmless things about jikook without the cult going screaminf their heads off? Lol.

Even now, they cannot handle everything AYS has shown them so they are lashing out and saying nasty things about Jimin and even Jk, while also claiming that Tae, Jimin and Jungkook lied about Tae inviting himself and that the staff asked him to join the show to make it more interesting or that Jimin begged him to join the show😂😂😂😂. These are things they do yet we are the jokers? How can Taehyung open his own mouth to tell you that he found out about a trip 2 days before it started from a groupchat and then said he wanted to join yet you sit on your blogs openly claiming otherwise? I mean what kind of madness is this?

Blatantly ignoring everything he said and making up your own reality just because you cannot deal with the truth is WILD!

This is why the cult will never be satisfied with anything because reality is never enough for them. Reality doesn’t validate their beliefs and that is why they change it every single time. They have to turn their own faves into liars to be able to sleep at night. Imagine going on everyday about how Taehyung is honest, and has integrity and doesn’t like to deceive people yet you are the first one to call him the biggest liar when his words don’t match your delulu. Taehyung says he invited himself to a show and you say he was casted by producers to make the show more interesting? How was him being ok his phone almost the entire time adding to make the show more interesting?

Just a friendly reminder to people who have succeeded in gaslighting themselves to believing that the boys live their entire lives as liars and actors… Your narratives and conspiracy theories do not change reality. They might work in your heads to help you feel better about a non existent romance but in the real world, the truth will always be the truth and there is absolutely nothing you can do about it. Taekook fucking each other 10 ways from Sunday might exist in your minds but that doesn’t mean it exists in reality and if the only way you can make your ship make any lick of sense is by constantly branding them liars, actors and pretenders, then that is when you should know that you are chasing the wind.

[dairy-farmer]

Reverse Robins Damitim (this one is romantic as opposed to sexy. Although it could definitely get sexy afterwards 😘)

Damian was in love with his younger brother/father's ward Timothy. At first he had been angry and unsure when his father agreed to take it in the neighbor boy after the horrific accident that killed his mother and injured his father - partly because he was worried about losing his father's regard, also partly because Tim basically blackmailed them with his knowledge of Batman so that he wouldn't go into the foster system.

But those feelings went away pretty quickly as he got to know young Timothy. He was sweet and intelligent and clever and so hard working it was hard not to love him. And then he started to get older and Damian realized he was also beautiful. But of course Damian couldn't do anything about these feelings: Damian was a full grown adult and Tim wasn't even 15 yet, and Damian was supposed to care for and protect him, not take advantage of him. It doesn't matter if he swore he saw love and Timothy's eyes or that he sometimes blushed when he saw Damian shirtless.

...And then Jack Drake wakes up from his coma and takes Tim away. Drake industries was in some trouble what was the coma and everything, so Jack makes the insane and suicidal decision to work with the Joker. Joker had been all 'Batsy has a son and sidekick, so why should I?!?" Jack, give me your son. Also I'm going to shoot you dead just for the LOLs!

Tim is put through torture and conditioning and druggings in order to turn him into Joker Junior. Batman and Nightwing are caught and brought to Joker on the top of a partially constructed building. Joker orders Tim to shoot Batman but Tim kills the Joker instead and takes the bomb (because of course there's a bomb) and jumps with it down an elevator shaft, dying from combination fall and exploding, while sparing Bruce and Damian. Both are obviously distraught. Because of Jack's actions, even though Tim wasn't officially adopted, he gets buried in the Wayne plot with Thomas and Martha and their ancestors.

A few years pass and Bruce meets a little tire thief who manages to make him laugh for the first time in what feels like forever. He adopts Jason and eventually makes him the third Shrike (Damien definitely wouldn't have chosen 'Robin' or 'Batboy' as his name, because he'd want something cooler). And then? News of the new crime lord/antihero/vigilante(?) in Gotham: Phoenix (I don't think this Tim would want to be connected to Joker again, and a phoenix is a bird and something that can come back to life and they're related to fire like dragons (Drake)(Yes, I do feel clever ☺️)).

There is something disconcerting about Phoenix. There's just something so oddly familiar about them, but no one can quite place it. And then he ends up saving Jason. Phoenix wears a combination of gas mask/face filter and domino mask (like the current Red Hood outfit), and the eye mask gets damaged enough that Jason sees that Phoenix's eyes look the same shade of green that people who come into contact with the Lazarus pit usually end up with.

Damian starts gathering evidence, putting pieces together, and eventually just straight up marching into Nanda Parbat and yelling at his Mother and Grandfather until he gets his answers. He rushes back to Gotham and shares what he learned: Phoenix is Timothy.

Now that they know at least some of what happened, they are all determined to find him and bring him back home. It takes a while, a lot of hard work, and no small amount of luck but eventually they managed to corner him. Damian takes point, and approaches the restrained Phoenix. He gets the mask and filter off, and there is Tim. Older, with Lazarus green eyes, almost impossibly pale skin, and faint, barely noticeable scars extending from each corner of his mouth, but it's definitely him.

There's a moment of silence while the Bats process the fact that it really is him, and maybe Tim takes the silence the wrong way and snarkily asks Damian "What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost. Is this face too repulsive for you?"

Damian gently holds Tim's face in his hands, presses a gentle, tender kiss to his forehead, and whispers "You are as beautiful as the day I lost you."

Needless to say, that pretty much takes all the wind out of Tim's sails and destroys all his worries about being rejected or hated or forgotten after how things ended. Bruce is obviously not a fan of the killing and stuff, but figures they can work on it (it's not like he doesn't have practice deprogramming League Assassins). Jason is also so excited to meet his other big brother: He's heard so many things about Tim, and Tim also rescued him that time!

There are lots of conversations between Bruce and Tim, and Tim and Damian; there are so many old fears, guilt, and miscommunications that need to be dealt with. And Damian barely lasts a week before dragging Tim somewhere private and finally confessing to the feelings he's held onto all these years: he refuses to be a coward anymore, he already lost Tim once without the chance to confess his love. He refuses to do it again. It's definitely a good thing he does, because Tim had been worried that Damian had simply meant everything he said in a platonic way and he had just been reading too much into it. Tim confesses back, and they share a long, slow kiss and gentle embrace that seems to last for hours.

Things are quiet, calm, and fairly happy in the family for a while... And then they all go to the circus.

~❤️🦇

(And yes, this is based on that scene from How to train your dragon 2)

reverse robins is sometimes too much for my tim-loving self😭😭😭 but that ending!! things are finally getting better, the family is tentatively together and damian is not letting fear hold him back from telling and showing tim exactly what he means. the circus comes to town and they just want to go out together as a family, it had been tim's idea to go. both damian and bruce were hesitant because circus meant clowns and tim's issues with the joker are...complex. not to mention that tim's path to healing isn't linear- he hasn't lived life outside a mask in years and with his very prominent and visible facial scars...more than one small child has startled and started crying at the sight of him and it hurt them to see how tim would recede into himself when that happened.

so tim asking to go out as a family, to go somewhere public, somewhere happy but where there will be clows? they're worried but they don't want to make tim feel worse so they go. they buy tickets and cotton candy, they go to their seats, and they watch a family die and leave their son orphaned.

and its a hard night.

damian and bruce and jason get to work but tim- tim stays in the circus. he stays and waits with little dick grayson until the paramedics arrive and the police swarm the scene.

and dick clings to tim, sobbing desperately and whimpering and even days later when dick is in the manor with them, because tim had refused to let social services shuffle him to juvie because the foster homes and orphanages had been to capacity, he still clings to tim.

he doesn't run at the sight of him, isn't frightened of tim or his face and too pale appearance.

dick is a deeply sad little boy and tim is a deeply pained individual but they connect. and tim is made a little bit more whole with dick around.

[romana-after-dark]

Keep Cry'n

Joel Miller x reader

Join dark!Romana's tag list Dark!Romana's Masterlist

Shout out to the girlies in the Whorefully yours discord for encouraging my dark side lol

Summary: Joel kidnapps you, but can't even wait long eough to put his dick inside you to cum. (Reader is rather Little One coded but this is a completetly separate fic from The Wrong Way)

Warnings and Content: NON CON, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT !!!!!! Hair pulling, kidnapping, masturbation, cumming on face, dirty and degrading talk, crying, dacryphilia, Joel is really psycho in this, maybe a lil off his rocker. Implied future abuse. Literally like so much crying.

DONT LIKE IT, DONT READ! If you do not wish to see rape on your feeds at all, i suggest blocking the tags such as non con, dddne, dead dove do not eat, and depending on preferences maybe dub con, yandere, or dark fics. No judgement if its not your thing!

*****************

Your head hurts. So bad. That was all you could think about as Joel dragged you off his house and up the porch by your hair with no regard for how you were supposed to keep up with his long stride. Scalp on fire, you scramble to stand but it seemed he would purposefully yank at you just to make you stumble. 

You can hear him smiling as he speaks, the outline of his cheeks giving away the wide grin if you can look up long enough to catch a glimpse. “Pretty fucking girl. Gonna make such a nice little toy.” 

He doesn’t care that you're crying. He doesn’t care that he took you away from everything you know. He doesn’t care that you are scared. He wants to use you.

Your hands are tied behind your back so you fall on your face when he trusts you onto the shitty mattress, dirt being inhaled into your lungs.

“Just gotta be good for a few days, pretty baby, ‘till I get tired of you and move onto the next shiny thing. Think you can manage that?”

Sobbing, you nod. You can do this. You can…

Your confidence wavers as he stands above you, palming himself and moaning. “Oooohhh fuck, such a pretty little baby, uuuuuuuuhhhhhhhuhuhuuuh” Joel sucks his breath in through his teeth, then shutters it out. “Get the fuck over here.” Joel reaches over and yanks on your hair again, pressing your face up against his jeans-clothes crotch. His musk was strong, the smell of his dick was sweaty and masculine and you could not help but feel just a little turned on. You couldn’t help it; it was biological, primal, evolutionary. 

With your hands still tied behind your back, you were helpless to the way Joel ground your face up against himself, his hard cock prominent despite the stiff material. Fingers entangled in your hair, Joel trust his hips up in your face as you sob, “Fuck baby, keep cry’n, I can feel your tears on my dick.” Joel pressed you tightly up against his crotch, your mouth pressed over the outline of his member and muffled your cries as they turned into attempts to scream. You wanted to bite but you knew better.

When he finally let go, allowing you to sit back on your haunches and breath, Joel unzipped his pants and thrust them and his tighty whitey’s down in one go, his massive cock hanging heavy between his legs. A sick man, Joel gripped your face in his large, rough hands to gather up the wetness before he fucked his fist. 

“God, I need to cum right fuck’n now” He grumbled to himself as he furiously pumped the extensive length. “Ain’t got time to- oh fu-u-u-ck, ain’t got time to fight your pants off.” Joel lets out a loud groan, bucking his hips as his breath shutters before looking down at your crying and shaking figure. “Oh fuck, you look so scared!” He has the audacity to chuckle, smiling at you as he gently nudges you with his boot just to see you cry more. He jerked harder and harder, his cock red and throbbing inches from your face. “There we go, fuuuuuck! Uh, uh, uuuhhhggg” Ropes of white began to spurt out of him, Joel grunting aggressively mixed with huffed out chuckles, a wide, joker-like grin on his face as his eyes sparkled with mischievous possibilities for the future.

Joel took his softening dick and wiped your tears and his cum with it. “Pretty little thing… goddamn… make’n me cum without even touching me, fucking fantastic.” 

You feel the wetness on your face, a mixture of fluids painting you up like a picture. 

Joel pushed you down onto the bed, not even bothering to pull up his pants as he pulled you on his naked body, sighing. He takes a knife out of his pocket, however, and cuts off your ties. Instinctively, you wrap your arms around him as you cry. You just wanted to be held, to feel touch and comfort and you didn’t care who it came from. “Oh god, princess…” He’s panting still, a crazy grin plastered upon his face as he stared up at the ceiling, laughing to himself. “Such pretty skin, such a pretty face…” Joel chuckled, long fingers massaging down your still-clothed body. 

“Gonna be a lot of fun playing with it.”

*******************

First dark! joel one shot ina while, woozers.

Love me my crazy man.

Got a cool ask today for a dark triple frontier Will Miller that I loooooove that I will be working on after a few other WIPS.

Also got an idea for a dark!joel sugar daddy yandere vibes fic, a dark!William Tell, and a dark!Nathan Bateman. I also plan to work on a short series (3 parts maybe?) of a darker ending to tww where Joel wins.

If you like this, click the link at the top to be added to my ongoing tag list!

@fandxmslxt69 @moriartyyouwhore @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

@hereforthepedrofanfic @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin and maybe @toxicanonymity might enjoy.....

[klbwriting]

If you can, any domestic Jason Todd headcanons (or fic) would do. I image something along the lines of them getting married, so what it would be like -the emotional state he would be in lol-, being pregnant with their first child two years later and emotional turmoil pt2 😭 and the child is definitely a girl because Jason is a certified dads girl ™️ perhaps a little snippet of how it would be (in terms of emotions) for him to see his family/child grow up, after such a bad upbringing and feeling at peace. At home, because he knows he is safe and loved unconditionally

OOOOO I LOVE THIS! Ok, here goes, I hope you enjoy!

Jason would be absolutely the most nervous man on the planet to even ask you to marry him. He would plan how to ask for months, carrying the ring in his pocket, a ruby of course, with black diamonds around it. He would be waiting for the perfect moment, a dinner at the nicest place he could find, a picnic on the grounds of the manor, a show that you loved, but every time he would be too nervous, his insecurities and self doubt plaguing him until finally you were the one who brought it up.

You and Jason were sitting on the couch, just hanging out watching some bad reality tv, and you looked at him. He looked back at you, the look in your eye scaring him. You were thinking about something serious, your mouth a thin line, eyes narrowing a little, and he was scrambling to figure out what he had done wrong. Was this it? Did you finally decide to leave him? Then you smiled at him. "Jason?" you said. "Yes sweetheart?" "Are you going to ask me to marry you or is that ring you're carrying around for your other girlfriend?" Jason was floored but honestly, what better time? You were looking more gorgeous than ever before, relax in your sweatpants and one of his shirts, smiling so sweet he couldn't wait another second and got down on one knee right there.

The wedding was somehow more stressful than popping the question. Jason kept expecting you to come to your senses and break everything off, leave him for someone with less baggage then him, someone who wasn't worried about the backup plans for your wedding in case Joker or Bane attacked the city. But the day arrived and Bruce brought in backup to make sure no one messed with his son's big day. Clark Kent said a quick hello to Jason before getting a call about an important story and needed to leave early, but he would send a gift. Then Diana Prince showed up, telling Bruce and Jason that she had just spoken to you and you looked amazing, just gorgeous. Then he was at the top of the aisle and watching you come towards him he didn't think his life could be any more perfect.

You pretty much spent the first couple years married in a constant state of perfect happiness. Jason was an even better husband than boyfriend, and he still somehow kept protecting the city. He was amazing and you felt so lucky that he was in your life. Then you found out you were pregnant and Jason almost spiraled. It was rough for the first couple months as he adjusted to the idea. He never honestly pictured himself as a father since his had been so epically bad. He could not imagine he would be any better. He got reckless in his patrolling, making you stress out until finally you had to tell him what was happening. The stress from him being out and not being careful was making you sick, maybe hurting the baby, and Jason realized one night when came home to find you sobbing on the bathroom floor that he needed to pull himself together. You were going to be a great parent and he would have to work on himself to be on your level. He got some help from a therapist, from Bruce, who maybe wasn't a perfect father but he was better than Jason's real father.

The birth of his daughter was the greatest day of Jason's life. You were amazing, bring a new life into this world, the beautiful little girl who stole his heart. He kissed your head, watching you hold the baby, tears in your eyes. "She's perfect," you said softly. Jason smiled and kissed her little head. "You both are perfect," he whispered. Somehow, all the fear he had had when he found out about the baby was gone, all he could think about was how he was going to be the best father he could. This girl would grow up happy, loved, and accepted for who she was.

Jason thought the first day of school was the worst day ever. His baby, his little angel, old enough to go off on her own. You thought you were emotional until you saw Jason not even holding back the tears, watching his daughter enter school for the first time, turning one time to run back and hug her daddy. He gripped her close before letting her go and gently pushing her towards her class. "What do you think?" you asked him. He swallowed hard, watching her turn and wave again, smiling wide, so confident in herself and so happy. "I feel happy, like everything is finally perfect," he said softly, heart feeling at peace for the first time.

[gh0stly-pages]

Out of Our Minds (Part Four)

Ledger!Joker x Harley Quinn-esque f!reader (18+)

CW: swearing, mentions of blood

Words: 5.9k

Chapter Summary: More sessions pass and while you learn more about the Joker, the pull you feel towards him grows stronger. Yet this time, it feels like everything is starting to change...

Previous part: Part 3

Notes: We back, and things are really picking up this time. Hope this distracts everyone who might be going through a tough time right now. <3 Things really pick up in this one, and I'm already excited to drop the next part lol. Have fun with this one!

With every session your infatuation for the Joker only grows.

At first, you tell yourself it comes from your want (well, need) for him to progress, both for the sake of actually seeing him healed and for the sake of your survival. Then eventually, you think it comes from the fact that his mind truly is incomprehensible, and you want to know what’s going on inside of it, want to crack open his skull and see every gear. But now, you’re not even sure what it is exactly that keeps you feeling empty anytime you’re not in a session with the Joker. You don’t know what you’re chasing anymore. Everything is just one big mind fuck.

Slowly, the Joker becomes more and more human to you. Where others still see some kind of raving, homicidal madman, you see a person. 

As your sessions carry on, you tell him more things about you, and you learn more things about him. He likes junk food. He is skilled with almost every gun known to man. He owns over thirty blades. His sleep schedule is so all over the place that he doesn’t even know what day it is ever. He prefers nights over mornings. He drinks his coffee with lots of creamer. Every fact you’ve tucked away in your mind and you’re not sure for what.

You like it when he tells you something personal about himself, but he likes when you do it even more. “I was a gymnast for a long time,” you told him once, much to his surprise. Even you hadn’t expected to get into that part of your life. “I had to stop once I started going to school, just got too busy, but I was real good at it.”

“Gymnastics, huh?” He said, grinning, and you figured he must be imagining you, usually so rigid, flying through the air. It sounded like a joke. You were surprised he wasn’t laughing. “So, you’re pretty, ah, light on your feet?”

You smiled to yourself, thinking of all the memories. It had felt so nice to throw yourself into all that hard work. When you were flipping in the air, you felt free. “Guess you could say that. Certainly hasn’t come in handy though, in my line of work.”

“It may come in handy with mine. You’d probably make a good fighter, Doctor l/n.”

The thought of you fighting anyone made you laugh out loud. Have you thought about fighting people before? Of course. All your life people have hurt you and you wanted to hurt them back. But in the end, you had decided that wouldn’t do any good. Now, however, as you kept imagining it, the Joker appeared at your side, and you were winning this fight, him laughing maniacally beside you. It sent a sort of thrill through you. You didn’t like it. “Luckily, I’m not in your line of work.”

He had winked. “You can always change your mind.”

Alongside learning bits of things about him, he also taught you a few new skills, probably antsy to test them out considering he’s strapped to a bed most of the time. He (as best as he could still cuffed to a table) tried to teach you to pick a lock, how to get a perfect shot with a gun, how to rig up TNT. It was nothing you needed to know, nor anything you thought he should be thinking about, but you went along anyway because it was best he knew you were there to support his interests. As dark as they were…. You’d work on that. 

After your last session, you decided to bring something up to Mr. Dale.

“Doctor y/n, your progress has been very minimal,” he had commented as you walked up to him, before you could even open your mouth.

You frowned. “It’s the Joker, sir. It’s not going to move very fast-“

“Well, I am tired of waiting. The longer he sits in that cell I fear the worse he’ll get, and then what? He snaps and tries to kill us all?” He cleared his throat, adjusting his collar. You wanted to smack him. “Is there any way you could hurry up the process?”

Don’t rush me, was what you wanted to scream, but that wasn’t going to get you anywhere but kicked to the curb. “I do think I have an idea,” you said, trying to direct him to why you came up to him in the first place. “You need to let me bring in his makeup.”

Mr. Dale’s eyebrows shot up. And, of course, he began to laugh. If it weren’t for growing used to the Joker doing it so often, it would really piss you off. “You want to turn him back into a clown? Miss l/n, I fear that would only encourage him.”

“First off, it’s Doctor l/n,” you point out sternly. You’ve had enough of him treating you like less. If there’s another thing the Joker has taught you, it’s to not take shit from others. “And second, I want him to embrace himself. If he can be this clown persona he sees him as, we can take this persona and shape it so that it’s less… violent. Then, the makeup will no longer be something he associates with villainy. Please, Mr. Dale, I know what I’m talking about.”

You smiled wide as Mr. Dale’s face fell, absolutely shattered by your words. He wiped a few beads of sweat from his forehead. “Alright, Doctor l/n, I will allow it however if it ends badly-“

“It wont.” 

“You’re getting too comfortable. It’s his fault, I’m sure. I was right, he breaks people.”

You wish you could grab him by the collar and pull him close, but instead you settle on a deadly glare, looking him right in the eye. “I’m not broken. J isn’t broken.”

“Well, you’ve changed.”

You scoffed and turned away. “See you later, Mr. Dale.”

You have changed. You’re not sure if it’s for the better or not.

—————————

For your session, you walk in with a gentle smile, the tubes of makeup in your bag clinking together. You’re going to keep it a surprise, for later in the season. You’re not really sure why you feel giddy, but you do. It sort of outweighs your exhaustion, you’d run to the store late that night to pick up the same paints the Joker was said to have used. And when the guards finally let you in through the door, your smile grows even wider at the sight of the Joker, who is already smiling back at you. Not just because of the scars, it’s an actual smile. At first, his smiles had been menacing, but now you feel they’re actually kind of… nice. “Well, hello, doll face. So lovely to see you again.”

“Hiya, Mr. J,” you respond, taking your seat. “How are you doing today?”

“You know me, Doctor l/n, your presence puts me in a much better mood.” He props his chin up on his fist. “You look beautiful today.”

The past few sessions, Joker has certainly grown more flirty. It’s not something you’re a stranger to, the other patients have tried their hand at it, usually to try and get on your good side, but it’s different coming from Joker. You know he likes to rile you up, but you can’t help but feel the words are mostly genuine. “I look like this everyday,” you point out, not wanting to show him how his words affect you. 

“And you are, ah, beautiful everyday, doll.”

“Mr. J, refrain from flattery, please.”

He bows his head, pretending to be upset like a kicked puppy. “Oh, you’re no fun sometimes, Dr. l/n. You know I like to tease ya.”

“Some of the guards told me you’re allowed to roam around your cell now,” you say, trying to switch the subject before he can completely throw you off course. He’s good at that. “How are you liking that?”

“Hmmmm, well, I, ah, went from being stuck permanently standing in a small cell and now I can walk around the cell. Once you’ve walked it once you’ve, ah, seen it all.” He looks to one side of the room. “A wall there.” His head swerves to the other. “Oh, and one there too! What a surprise!” He chuckles to himself. Nothing makes Joker laugh more than his own nonsense. 

“So, not much better?”

Joker shakes his head. “Nah ah ah, not one bit. Can barely even make a ruckus too, the doors conceal all my banging and kicking and laughing. The guards can’t even get annoyed with me.”

You bite your cheek. “You really like being a nuisance, huh?”

“I do like to make people tick.” He wets his lips. “Especially pretty psychiatrists with sharp minds.”

Already, you can feel your cheeks warming. Embarrassment, that’s all it is. You, once again, try and take the conversation back to what you actually need to be in there for. “How about we get started, huh?”

Joker nods, smacking his lips together. Despite how much he licks them, they’re always chapped, the skin cracking. “What am I in for today? I feel we’ve talked about everything we possibly can.”

“And yet you’re no closer to getting out of here, are you?” You smirk at him as you bring out your clipboard. “I feel like I’ve been keeping it too light these past few sessions. I’ve learned a lot about you but you still won’t let me reach past the barrier.”

“What barrier?”

“The barrier between you and whoever you were before you became the Joker.”

His lips twist into a frown. Again, his past touches a nerve. “Dolly,” he warns, “I’ve told you, whatever came before doesn’t matter. I’ve always been the Joker. You won’t find anything past that.”

Once again, Joker is being a stubborn ass. As much as you enjoy talking with him, he also drives you nuts. “You’re saying your life started once Batman came to the scene?”

“He gave me purpose. What’s a joke without the punchline? Batman is the punchline.” 

“You were a child once, Joker.”

“Like most people, yes.”

“And how was your childhood?”

He ignores your question, grumbling as he stares at his cuffed wrists, rotating them as you sit there expectantly. You realize he’s not going to answer you and groan. So, he doesn’t want to dive into the past. You’re not going to force him. Prying was never the best way to go about things. You’d leave it alone again… for now. “Okay, sorry, Mr. J, we can move on. Is there anything that you’d like to talk about?”

Joker raises an eyebrow, not confused but suspicious. “You’re just gonna turn it into some kind of analysis moment, aren’t you?”

He knows me too well. “Well, that is my job. But no. Just, talk to me.” You hold your hands together, resting your chin on them. “About anything.”

“Hmmmm.” He looks like he’s having trouble thinking of something. “I’ve been thinking about Batman.”

“B-Man.” Of course. “What have you been thinking about him?”

“Those last moments I saw him, his expression. He looked so shattered.” You’re not really sure what he’s talking about, and you’re sure your face betrays this but he goes on anyway. “Oh, I’d live for a moment like that again. Seeing Batman react to my schemes, it’s so pleasing.”

“Do you consider your vendetta against Batman more for yourself or on behalf of the people of Gotham?”

He points at you. “There’s the analysis question. You can calm down there, Doc.” Joker coughs. “Behalf makes me sound like mister tall, dark, and dorky,” he snorts. “I’m trying to pull back everyone’s mask, but especially the Bat’s. I mean I, ah, already broke down Harvey Dent.”

That makes you go still. You hadn’t thought much on Harvey Dent, or how what Joker did may have affected him. You’re not sure if broken is the right word. Maybe scarred. Figures.  “The explosion. Right.”

“Poor, poor Harvey Dent. Gotham’s White Knight broke right in half. All because of me!”

You frown. “Harvey Dent died a noble man, Joker. Batman killed him all because Harvey was trying to do good.”

Joker’s eyebrows shoot up. “Harvey Dent is dead? And Batsy killed him?”

Oh, fuck. You clap a hand over your mouth, shaking your head. You weren’t supposed to say anything. It was an accident, you hadn’t meant to let it slip. “I… no, I mean, yes but-“ you stumble to try and cover it up but there’s no going back. Joker knows. And, honestly, who cares? He was going to figure it all out eventually. You take a deep breath. “Yes. Harvey Dent is dead. Batman killed him and five other people. And then Batman… he disappeared.”

Joker shoots up from his chair, and it takes you aback, causing you to squeal. You instinctively push your back into the chair while Joker looms over you. You’re not sure what he’s feeling, his mouth a thin line, his nostrils fuming. “Doll, why didn’t you tell me this earlier?” he hisses.

“I… my bosses didn’t want me to. They were scared of what you’d do. That this would inspire you…”

You wait for him to yell, to react violently, but instead he laughs. This time though, it isn’t a creepy giggle or a small chuckle, it’s a full body laugh, the kind that contorts his body. It sounds like it hurts. “Batsy killing people?” he chokes out. “I don’t believe it. No, I don’t believe it-tah one bit.” He clutches his stomach. “Batman is a very hard person to break, believe me.”

“You… you don’t think he killed all those people?”

“Ha! Absolutely not. He would’ve killed me too, he had me in the perfect place to do it, multiple times. No no no, something’s wrong about this…”

Slowly, you loosen your posture, moving back closer to the table. You’ve never even thought that any of that mess could have been something made up. “I’m confused,” you admit. 

“Doll, do you know how hard I tried to get Batman to kill me? He won’t do it! He just won’t. He’s got his, ah, one rule, his precious little moral code. He had me in the perfect position to kill me so many times yet he didn’t take any of those chances. Yet now he says he’s killed off five people including Gotham’s little savior? Puh-lease. There’s more to this story than they’re letting up.”

You hadn’t thought about it that way at all. Well, probably because you had no reason to. Joker knew more about Batman than any Gothamite did. You didn’t know much about him other than his attempts at stopping crime. Who were you to know Batman supposedly didn’t kill? You admit, it was strange that he had a streak of getting rid of criminals in ways that didn’t involve killing, then suddenly turned and killed a few people? “Are you sure you didn’t… break him?”

“No, if I did I’d know it. I’d feel it. The Bat is about as stubborn as me, doll. And now he’s in hiding?” He sniggers, a hand gently touching his lips. “Sounds like some kind of, ah, twisted joke. The Bat is hiding something.”

“I’m sure he’s hiding lots of things.”

“Whatever this is though I’m curious about it.”

Of course. You just ignited a flame in him. Idiot. “Curiosity killed the cat, you know.”

“Good thing they got nine lives.” 

The more you think about it, the more intrigued you are. Batman has always been shrouded in mystery for you. Was he good? Was he bad? And now it turns out his story is all over the place, that it doesn’t make sense? You kind of wanted to know now too. “Do you think it has to do with Harvey?”

“Only one way to, ah, find out.”

“Which is?”

He looks at you like the answer is obvious. “Drive the Bat out of hiding, of course.”

There it is. Mr. Dale was right. You shouldn’t have told him. He was going to find out eventually but now was not the time. Shit. “J, you can’t-“

He cuts you off. “You don’t like the Bat, do you?”

“Well, no, but-“

“Then don’t you wanna know what his little secret is? It must be somethin’ real special if he’s, ah, abandoned Gotham. Doesn’t sound very heroic to me. Sounds rather dull.” 

You know Joker’s dead set on getting back Batman for his own amusement, but what of you? What reason would you want to go find him for other than to expose him? He locked up Joker and left him here to rot. He killed five people plus Harvey Dent. He gets to hide away while people still root for him, safe from consequences. Everyone else suffers. Maybe Joker has a point. “I’m just a psychiatrist working Arkham asylum, Mr. J, trying to seek out the Batman is far above my pay grade,” you finally say, snorting, trying to get the idea out of your head. “B-Man can’t hide forever.”

“You’re right. Because we’ll drive him out.”

“We?”

“Well, you like to do good, don’t you? Little miss Mother Teresa, over here. You’ve already offered me friendship. So come on, help me, help Gotham, help us all!” He shows you his yellowing teeth. “Or, are you not as good as you think you are?” He reaches out with his hands suddenly, moving towards you. They only reach about halfway across the table, stopped by his cuffs, but you still jump. “What’s behind that mask, dear? Tell me what you really want. Let. It. Slip. Every dirty detail.” 

You’re trembling now. Like a rabbit caught in a trap. “I… I’m not sure I’m following.”

“You’re not as good as you think you are, dolly. I can see it! I, ah, can sense the darkness looking beneath your white coat.”

What the hell was Joker going on about? That you were as rotten as he was? You weren’t. You had dark thoughts sometimes, yes, but you weren’t crazy. You weren’t crazy. You weren’t. You weren’t bad you- “I don’t know what you want from me,” you whisper.

As your voice gets quieter, Joker gets louder. “Is that it? You feel all fine and dandy in this shitty life of yours, locked up with me in this madhouse? The people out there don’t care about you, they don’t care about any of us. But you’re fine with it, huh? Like a little pet pooch nipping at their heels. You’re just being optimistic!”

“Joker-“

“Tell me,” he demands, “what you really want! I want to break Batman! I want to strip all of Gotham down to its rotting core! And you want to keep yourself beneath their boots? Dolly, please, you’re much much more than that.”

Heart thumping, you can’t take his words anymore. You stand up abruptly, slamming your hands on the table. “Fine! You wanna know what I want? I want to hurt every single person around here who has done me wrong! Every single person who ignored me or disregarded me, everyday I wish I could just rip them apart. I- I hate everyone. I hate this stupid fucking place because everyone treats me like shit and at first I was only trying so hard at this because I can harldy survive and they told me that if your sanity improved then I’d get a raise!” What is with you today? You clap your hands over your mouth, hands shaking. Fuck, Joker was going to be pissed. Oh, goddammit. “J… I- I didn’t…” You struggle to find the words, trying to keep looking him in the eyes. They give nothing away. He is silent. “Mr. J-“

Then, out of nowhere, he cackles. He throws his head back, neck exposed, and laughs into the air, the howls of his laughter echoing throughout the room. Immediately, you’re caught off guard. You can’t tell if he’s laughing because it amuses him or because he’s angry. Even when he calms down enough to look at you and smile, you still can’t tell, and you continue to shake. “Doll,” he begins through his laughs, “that’s exactly what I’m looking for.” He doubles over with howling laughter again and you’re not sure if you should be scared or confused. “This whole time you just wanted a raise! So you took on little old me?”

There’s a lump in your throat. You swallow it down. “I didn’t have much of a choice but yes… it was that or be fired. But I did really want to help you, Mr. J. Are- are you mad?”

“Mad? No! I am, ah, lovin’ this side of you. It’s so cruel.”

That certainly took a weight off your shoulders, and you finally took a long breath in. Fucking hell, Joker was confusing. Guilt still gnawed at you. “You’re right, I’m just as selfish as you say people are,” you mumble.

“Exactly,” he hisses. “But it takes guts to admit it, especially to someone who, ah, doesn’t exactly handle things very nicely.”

“I’m so sorry, J.”

“Don’t apologize. It doesn’t mean anything to me.”

“Then I don’t know what to do now. You’re set on getting Batman out of hiding, I’m going fucking crazy right now, everything feels so weird.”

Joker seems to find the utmost pleasure in your unraveling. “Doll, what’s in the bag?”

The question takes you off guard. “What?”

“When you came in, you were all giddy, and I could hear something moving in your bag I haven’t heard before. What is it?”

Ever so perceptive. “Oh… uh,” you fumble through your bag, bringing out the three tins of paint. “Your paint. They… they let me bring it for you.”

Joker’s smile falters a bit, yet he doesn’t look upset, just surprised. “My paint… You really brought it for me?”

You nod. “Y-yes.”

His voice dips low. “Put it on me then.”

Now that takes you by surprise. More than anything else that’s happened to you today.

The Joker is so guarded off, yet he’s inviting you in, allowing you to not just touch his face but apply his makeup. It feels sacred. This is a part of him that makes him not just recognizable, but feared. And here you are, being asked to put it on him. It’s so wrong it feels… right? It scares you.

“Are you sure you-?”

“Put it on me, y/n.”

If this is a test, you’re not exactly sure how to pass. But his look is unnerving and so you stand up, pulling yourself onto the table between you, a lump in your throat. You feel frazzled as you move close to him, bending your legs to the side of you as you settle on your thighs. This is the closest you’ve ever been to him. You can see every line of his scars, every wrinkle and crease on his face. “Okay,” you say, more to yourself than to him. You grab the white paint to the side of you, screwing off the lid and taking a large glob of the substance.

You loom close to him, your fingers wet with white paint, waiting for a sign that he’s okay with this. You don’t dare breathe, scared that any movement, any sound, will shut him down. But to your surprise, he doesn’t back away, he nods. Keep going. Your fingers finally land on his cheek, right beneath his eye, and you gasp at how warm his skin is. Joker shows nothing on his face to reveal how he feels except for the way his eye twitches slightly at your touch, his cheek twitching along with it. As you start to paint around his face, everywhere but his scars and lips, you wonder if his reaction stems from a disdain of being touched or from not having been touched so gently in so long. 

“Mr. J,” you whisper, and you can feel your hands start to shake again but you quickly steady them. Once his face is fully white, you dig into the black paint. He notices this and closes his eyes, letting you rub the dark paint in circles until each of his eyes look like they’ve settled into two, painted voids. When he opens his eyes again, they’re still trained right on you. “What am I doing?” you ask to no one in particular.

Joker doesn’t answer your question. He doesn’t have one for you anyways other than the obvious. “The red now, doll.”

“Y-yes, of course.” Quickly, you grab the red paint and stick your fingers in, moving them towards Joker’s lips but stopping. Putting the makeup on his face had been intimate enough but… his scars? That was a whole different kind of territory. “J…”

“Do it,” he murmurs, and it’s so quick you still wait, your hand just in front of his mouth shaking. This had to be a test. Some kind of sick joke. “Doll, can you, ah, hear me? I said ‘do it’.” 

You want to protest, but for what? He made it clear what he wants. So, you begin to smear the red across his lips, moving first to the scar on his right, your entire body shuddering as your fingers touch the sunken in skin where the carvings were made, the mangled flesh around it, every bump and curve. You don’t understand why anyone would ever find these scars ugly. To you, the way they healed, the way they are a part of him, there’s something hauntingly beautiful about it.

Godammit, J is beautiful.

As you continue to smear the red paint, he looms closer. “Do you wanna know,” he whispers, “how I got these scars?”

“I…” Of course you do. Everyday since you’ve met him, you go home and you can’t help but see his smile. See those scars. And you can’t help but wonder how they got there. You imagine a blade ripping across his mouth, drawing so much blood it drips down his chin. You’ve imagined him screaming in pain. You’ve imagined him uttering not a peep as the blade pierces his skin. So many possibilities. This was the barrier you’d been hoping to jump. “Yes,” you finally rasp.

“I can, ah, never get the story straight. It’s like a black hole, doll. A black hole in my mind. There’s so many ways I could’ve gottem, so many ways I think I gottem. What’s real? What’s not? Who the fuck cares?” Even with a furious growl in his voice, he laughs. “I can’t remember what it really was that did it. There was a horrible father. A wife who I tried so hard for. There was war, and violence, the mob, and so much pain. I’ve seen a lot. Maybe they’re all real memories, maybe they’re not, doesn’t matter! I hated the scars at first, I really did, but now? I embrace them because there is just so much to smile for. I’ve got so much left to do in this city. So much fun left to have. But there’s something I’ve been missing.”

You rub your thumb over his right scar, drawing in a shaky breath. “What is that?”

“I have all these plans, all these ideas and feelings over what I do and yet I’ve never thought anyone good enough to share them with. People, ah, will only be good to you for a while before runnin’ off with your secrets, it’s just human nature. I didn’t feel a kinship to anyone until you came along, Doctor l/n.” When he smiles, you feel the movement beneath your finger. “Look at you. So lonely. Letting everyone spit on you. Yet here you are, being so kind to me. I’m sure you imagined I could’ve killed you for keeping me along for a stupid paycheck, but you admitted it to me anyways. You are pulling back your own mask, right in front of me. You know you couldn’t fix me, right?”

You can feel tears welling in your eyes at his words, guilt gnawing at you. “I wanted to try at first. But now… I- I don’t want to fix you. I like what you are.”

“That,” he growls, “is exactly why I’m so drawn to you. I know, doll, that you crave something more than what you have now, this world kicking you down over and over and over again. I know the feeling. You’ve got nothing and everything to lose. Yet you manage to smile amidst the darkness. You smile in the face of pure chaos.”

“I don’t understand,” you mumble. 

“I want what’s best for both of us, doll face. You were right. I do need someone by my side. As I was saying, what I’ve been missing this whole time, was you.”

Your eyes grow wide. “Me?”

He nods. “You stuck with me this long. Even for a paycheck, that’s somethin’ no one else would do. And yet the big Arkham bosses are out there now, laughing at the both of us. Ain’t that unfair?”

“Yes.”

“Doll, stick by my side, and we’ll let them all know just how corrupt they truly are.”

Your arms break out in goosebumps. Every word the Joker utters is dripping with venom, an edge to each syllable. You’ve tried to ignore him, the way he crawls into your rib cage, into your mind, finding your weaknesses, your dark desires and whims you push away. Yet here he is, getting you to reveal them, and trying to get you to go along with him. It’s working. “Let’s show them, then.”

You look down at your fingers, covered in red, and it almost looks like blood. 

He grins. “That’s the spirit.” With a curl of his finger, he gestures for you to move closer. You do, and he cranes his neck towards your ear. “If you really wanna help me,” he whispers, his breath hot in your ear, “then tomorrow is the day you get me out of this place.” Every t is pronounced as sharp as a blade. “You’re smart, doll, I know you can think of something.”

Breaking Joker. Out of Arkham. A few weeks ago, you might have grabbed your remote and hit the red button but now? You think you might just take him up on that. You move back to look him in the eye. “You won’t help me think of something?”

“I’m sure you’ve got something in that, ah, pretty mind of yours.”

You huff. “J, I’m serious. This is Arkham. It’s constantly guarded and protected. And I’m just me.”

“Exactly.”

“What?”

“You’re you, sweets. No one’s gonna suspect you.”

Oh fuck. He’s right. No one gave a shit about you. You’d fly right under the radar. That part was easy. But everything else? This wasn’t exactly your forte. You didn’t know what to do. “I’ll try my best,” was all you could offer.

He reaches his hand out, and at first you think he’s trying to grab you, but instead he goes after one of the paint tins. The red paint. Agonizingly slow, he removes the cap, getting his fingers wet with paint. “Doll, you and I are gonna make something special. I always knew you had it in ya. C’mere.” You tilt your face towards him, and Joker smears the red across your lips, a mirror of his own striking smile. “Don’t forget to smile,” he says.

“Never.”

_______________

Later in the night, Joker stares at himself in the reflection of the small, grimy window of his cell door. His face is painted exactly the way he likes it, maybe just a bit different, but he could care less. This, this person he’s looking at, is the person he is, the person you have given back to him. He touches his face and he can still feel your phantom touch, the way you had run your finger over his face, his eyelids, his scars. You hadn’t backed off, or avoided them, you had touched them so softly. Soft. You were soft. 

You made Joker feel soft and he hated it.

Yet, he couldn’t fathom getting rid of you. It would be easy, definitely. If things actually went well tomorrow and you managed to get him out of Arkham, he could easily kill you off. No one would look for you. And even if they did, helping him break out of Arkham would mark you a criminal, and Gotham would curse your name forever. But Joker doesn’t want to do that. Even the thought of your death makes him angry. He is used to wanting to hurt people, yet when he comes across you now, he feels… protective. He knows how the world hates him, yet somehow you showed him sympathy. No, even better, you were showing him loyalty by offering to help break him out. And if you really went and did it? God, he almost breaks into chills.

When he looks at you, he notices his body reacting strangely. His heart speeds up, his hands feel sweatier, his mind feels like it’s going to split right in half. This isn’t the kind of insanity Joker usually basks in, this is something worse. He doesn’t want to put a name to it. You were so good, and yet when you let your mask slip, Joker couldn’t help but feel pulled in even more. What lies beneath you is dark and spiteful, and Joker wants to see all of it.

You won’t let him down tomorrow, Joker is sure of it. 

A voice on the intercom comes through the crack under the door, crackling through the speakers placed along the hall outside. “Shutting lights off. Everybody get to bed.”

Joker grunts, moving to plant himself down on his metal “bed”. He’s not going to sleep though, how could he? Chaos was coming, and you were bringing it straight towards him.

________________________________________________

When you get home, you stumble into the bathroom, quickly turning on the sink faucet and drenching your face in water. You let the ice cold water drip down your face, crying out as you try and get a grip on things. Your fingers are still covered in Joker’s face paint, the water hardly washing any of it off. It’s like he’s on you forever.

Why, for fucks sake, do you almost want it to never wash off?

You look at yourself in the mirror now, the makeup that Joker spread smeared down your chin. This is you now. Mr. Dale was right, you have changed. But fuck it, it was for the best. This change, this thing radiating beneath your skin, it’s something dangerous yet powerful. It moves you. You’re not crazy, you’re insane. 

You can’t tell what this feeling is towards Joker. It almost feels like… love.

Love for the Joker.

The Joker. The Joker. The Joker-

He was right. He was always right. People were going to walk over you all your life. You were tired of it. Nothing was going to change if you didn’t change it first. You couldn’t stand around and watch these people, with their pockets fat and their reputations swell, walk around with such pride when you knew they were all phonies. This city, your city, you’re going to unveil it. No longer will it crush you. You’re going to crush it. 

You were going to be Joker’s partner in crime. And you loved it.

Taglist: @lightsabergirl / @knoepfl / @jeffswh0re / @itsmrshamilton / @heath-ledger-jokers-wife / @lolwey / @ilovetoomanymen / @amazingzou/ @ronniesweetkisser / @emberhatesthemoon

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[mydarlingbat]

Batman lunges his arm back into the water, getting the Joker out. However the Joker isn't breathing. Now Batman makes a decision to bring the Joker back by doing CPR on him.

What i can't understand you thought about letting the Joker died, but when he was actually practically dead you bought him back to life? And this man is trying to blow every thing out of him to bring the Joker back. I mean look at that man's cheeks. Lmao. It's also funny Batman said that he couldn't hardly breathe. He said how it hurt, yet he's blowing air into the Joker's mouth with everything he's got.

After the Joker's is back. Bruce still stays behind him to make sure he's alright.

Batman was already thinking about saving the Joker. He claims it's only for one, and yet he takes a small drop, saving some. This is the same thing he did on Batman Arkham City the game. He's even looking down at the Joker, and then the Joker asks him do you got medicine.

The Joker laying down so flawless. Lol

I mean yeah, we knew you couldn't really cope with the Joker dying.

The Joker telling Batman he's not going let it end like this, and then Batman saves him. It says a lot.

Batman even chose to let the joker know he will live, so no baby!! Batman won't let you die.

[vashtijoy]

Hi! Pre-emptive sorry for the long ask- I don't know if you've answered this before but I was scrolling through your blog and in one of your posts you note that the brief bit we see of Akira's hometown has high rise buildings, which implies it's a city. I could've sworn there was in game dialogue calling him a country boy though or referencing him being from a rural area? Is there something in the Japanese text to suggest these are meant to be taken as jokes (I.E. protag is from a city, but it's not as big as Tokyo so he's playfully considered 'rural') or is this a case of the game devs simply not considering what buildings they had in the background of that scene?

Hello! First of all, I think it's insanely unlikely that the game devs just forgot Joker was meant to be from a shack on top of a mountain and accidentally put him in a city. Maybe they didn't have time to design a farm and shoved him in a random cityscape instead? Well, maybe. I would at least have pasted in a couple more trees.

So what do we know about this?

Sojiro calls Joker 田舎もん inakamon, short for 田舎者 inakamono—someone from the countryside; someone provincial. This is what's translated as "country boy", or "country bumpkin". Chihaya uses it about herself, and Chihaya I think is certainly meant to be very rural. The Adorable Woman and Rural Young Man in Shibuya Station use inaka a lot:

His name did not originally use inakamono or similar, by the way—he's the 上京してきた青年 joukyou shite kita seinen, "the young man who's moved to Tokyo". Note the moving-up kanji there, 上, lol—this is not a sideways move, it's a definite move up.

so what is the inaka?

In short, the inaka can be the remote countryside—but it can also just be your hometown, of any description. It can be legit anywhere that isn't Tokyo. Here's Tofugu:

My mouth was hanging open and I know I was being rude, but it was really hard to pull myself together. The woman I was speaking with was from one of the top Japanese Universities. She has had international relationships, traveled the world, and done work that most foreign anime fans would kill to see. Someone with her experiences, to me, should be open-minded about other cultures and lifestyles. Just the same, I can't help but to be bothered by what she said: "I feel like anything outside Tokyo's 23 wards is inaka." [...] Often, people usually just use what they read in the dictionary, but I learned fast that "countryside" in American English is much different than in Japanese English. For me, countryside means farms. Countryside is driving to see your closest neighbor, riding tractors for work and pleasure, and being able to immediately tell who's from your town just by looking at them. When I say this to Japanese people and ask them to explain inaka, the joke is always the same: "Inaka is anything outside of Tokyo." Osaka and Kyoto, for many, aren't inaka, but Sapporo, which is one of the few parts of the country where this legendary thing called "insulated housing" exists, is inaka. [...] So you might be wondering how "bad" it really is out here. Truthfully, I'm living in a city, at least by American standards. Great bus and train systems, tons of malls and movie theaters, some of the major stores people visit Tokyo to see, game centers, golfing… and a few rice paddies. Not many, but there are some. Imagine a fashionable mall, famous manga store, well-respected school with a strong baseball team, and major supermarket, all within walking distance, with maybe one field of rice. Honestly, the place is so city that I don't think I would willingly eat any rice that grew in that field. I swear, it's in front of a bus stop.

So, tl;dr: if you aren't in Tokyo, Osaka or Kyoto, you're probably in the inaka—at least to someone's mind. You can be somewhere that looks to us in every way like a city, and be in the inaka. And if you pick up sticks and move to Tokyo? Then you have a good chance of being jibed about being a "country boy".

so what is joker's inaka like?

[Joker] 田舎に帰りたい inaka ni kaeritai I miss the country... [lit. I want to go back to the inaka.] Ryuji ハハ、都会の洗礼ってか? haha, tokai no senrei tte ka? Hah. Not used to the big city yet, huh? [lit. Haha, so this is your first time in the city?]

We don't get a huge amount of detail in-game about Joker's home. Besides Sojiro's "country boy", Ryuji has a couple of comments. Here's another:

Ryuji あれ? お前ン家ってわりと田舎? are? omae n uchi tte wari to inaka? Wait a sec, your hometown isn't near the countryside, is it? [lit. isn't your place relatively countrified?] Ryuji いや、大自然でランニング練習とか気持ち良さそうだなーって。 iya, daishizen de ranningu renshuu to ka kimochi yasasou da naa tte I was just thinkin' it'd be great to run an' train somewhere out where it's all big, naturey open space. [lit. no, I thought it seemed like it'd feel great to train in the great outdoors and stuff.]

(I think something may be off here with that translation of daishizen, which seems to connote "the great outdoors", "a vast wilderness", etc, as well as just meaning "nature" (the sort you get out into) more generally". The word has been split up as if Ryuji was just saying "big nature" for some reason, like if you thought "the great outdoors" meant "the outdoors is great :D".)

But we can see from Ryuji's statement that Joker's home is wari to inaka, "relatively countrified", "kind of countrified"—it's more the country than Tokyo is, but it's probably not the ass end of nowhere, either. It's somewhere Ryuji pictures getting out into nature—but even if that's accurate and not just in Ryuji's city-boy head, that again doesn't connote "ass end of nowhere"; a lot of very built-up places are startlingly close to farmland or to nature, as with the putative rice field at the bus stop that we read about earlier.

the artbook picture

There is, of course, a picture of Joker's home in the artbook:

That doesn't scream "rural" to me—though it's also not the built-up area we see him in with Shido. It backs onto a cliff, it's very green. It's clearly a row of houses on a street, maybe in a fancy suburb on the edge of the city?

It's a nice house, at any rate. Joker moving into Sojiro's attic, with his clothes in a box, will have been a harsh step down.

Another detail from this image before we move on:

Look at this board. We can make out what it says. We can even, just possibly, make out a town name there...

日立自治会 掲示板 hitachi jichikai keijiban Hitachi Neighbourhood Association noticeboard

自治会 jichikai—neighbourhood associations. As you'd expect, they tend to be organised at the very local level—so Hitachi is likely to be a small district within a larger city, rather than (say) the city of Hitachi in Ibaraki Prefecture.

his city has a name guys i can't believe it lmao

the coup de grace

But there's one question I think really puts the nail in the coffin here: WTF was Shido doing in the middle of nowhere?

It's totally plausible that Joker came from a remote farm in the country, or a tiny village in far northern Honshu. But what is there in that to attract Shido? Like... Shido seems kind of an indoor guy, y'know?

He goes where his business is. He goes where the money is. It's difficult for me to picture him going to random rural areas with nobody to schmooze, with what I'm sure he'd consider to be poor facilities and shitty hotels.

Even if he did stoop to visit somewhere like that, by the time he was on his off hours getting pissed (in both senses) and attacking women, wouldn't he have gone back to civilisation?—back to the city?

conclusion??

This place Joker is wandering after dark doesn't look like The Country. It looks quite built up. I'd say it's the centre of a regional city or large town—with those nice houses we just looked at set off in suburbs along its edge. Look at this place:

It really does look like a less cramped version of Yongen-jaya, down to the trees. I don't think they spent too long on this area, but I also don't think it's inaccurate.

By the way, that "Hometown Neighbourhood" was originally 実家近くの住宅地 jikka chikaku no juutakuchi—"residential area near home". So this is not where Joker lived with his parents; it's an area close by. Like he says, he's on his way home late.

Where was he? We never find out. He has what looks like a school bag, well before his nasty crime days. Maybe he was visiting a friend we never hear about again. Maybe he was at cram school. But he's gone to this built-up part of town to do something there.

My guess would be that he lived in some prefectural capital or other. That's why Shido is there. I'd also guess that it's one of the Kanto prefectures, since the further you go from Tokyo, the less likely it becomes that Joker would have been sent to Tokyo for his probation, whether Sojiro was a friend of a friend or not.

As ever, all of this is for information only, and if you want to do something else superior in every way, you definitely should. At the end of the day Joker's a silent protagonist player insert, who can be from absolutely anywhere and as gay as you like. Let a thousand Jokers bloom.

revision history

Click here for the latest version.

v1.0 (2024/01/17)—first posted.

[bepoucorp]

two questions ☆

1. are there any specific rules to the pfp contest? characters one must have or colors?

2. do you have any tips on drawing the poker's hair and Batemans mask?

-♧

nope! no specific characters + colors! just as long as it's batman related its fine! (if you have more questions about it check the #server-pfp-contest-★ channel! or send me another ask LOL)

as for tips... uhhh... be loose when you draw joker's hair? when I draw his hair in like 3 parts? and I follow the widows peak of his hair to help with this

batman is like,, so hard for me to draw LMAOO i say the same thing tho,, it's a lot of shape language and whatever that i cant explain? his mouth/chin area is heart shaped tho!

made a diagram LMAOO,, hope this helps? my process of drawing them always changes if im being so fr

[spidernuggets]

Oh my gosh! THANK YOU! Fics of Jason Todd, Jason Freakin Todd using the readers body as no more than a slab of meat, saying horrendous things to her, her being no more than a hole for him to spill into. Some of the fics-like firstly are y'all okay!? And secondly you could offer him the Jokers head or a million dollars he's not going to disgrace your body if he's with you he values you, sorry lol

I'm not a maniac I understand the concept of fiction, write what you wanna write but for some characters that just doesn't make sense

On another note and in all seriousness some smut fics make me genuinely concerned and perplexed, writer will be like 16/17/18 saying things about themselves that sound like they came straight out of the mouth of a porn-addicted-woman hating-misogynistic who believes all females are the devil and need to be lobotomised via his penis. Like miss girl I understand your brain isn't fully developed yet but yikes

ABSOLUTELY FACTS ANON!!!

I had this sorta general convo with a friend, not necessarily on Jason Todd, but where I draw the line at dark fics.

But knowing Jason Todd, he would NOT participate in any of these dark fics. Like no the fuck he would NOT plant cameras in your bathroom without you knowing or put his cock in your mouth while youre sleeping??

like if you're into that shit, i dont really care, you do you. And ik this sounds like gatekeeping, and jason is a fictional character bUT PLS. Even ooc asshole HBO live action Red Hood Jason Todd wouldn't do fucked up shit like that.

and ive seen like a misogynistic Jason Todd?? Like no hate to the writer, yous have like really good writing skills!! but Jason would have like an immense amount of respect to women. Like idm the degration kink that people write for him, but sometimes it could be taken a little too far...

But even when he was in a romantic relationship, like Artemis or Rose, he's shown to actually value them as a person.

Seeing as he's spent so long making amends wjth Bruce, even when they still domt see eye to eye, if he were to be in a relationship, mans would be fucking paranoid that he's still the crime lord he was resurrected as. He'd be doing more than the bare minimum to make sure you're comfortable in a relationship. And i think if you were into that dark shit, he'd be uncomfortable with it, knowing he doesn't have your verbal consent to do anything to you because he wouldn't want to hurt you

idk, again, I know jason todd isnt a real person, and I may be gatekeeping n shit, but it is kind of fucked up in my view that people would hc Jason doing dark things when he's someone who has experienced dark things...

[theyellowhedgehog]

This is the character design I have in mind with the Reverse Robin + Parallel AU. Let's name it Ripple Effect AU. PART 1, 2, 3,

PART 4

Damian Wayne

So, Damian as you can see in my previous post, I colored his skin pretty pink. That's because I wanted him to be one of those kids that got darker as they grow older. You know ? Those babies that look like dumplings and got super tan afterwards? 🤭 Just imagine Damian after taking off his cowl and got a tan line around his mouth,lol.

Yellowhedgehog, where is Damian's green signature color?

I think he got his color as green because of his eyes or because of the Al-Ghul color.

But listen, our boy Damian falls out with his best friend *ahem* (which he will deny) due to Joker. So, I don't think he would even want to be near green.

Thus, I made him a color which contradict green, which is red. Which is also the color of his hero moniker, Cardinal, the bird.

Why Cardinal? That moniker was mainly used for Tim in his fandom.

Well, Cardinal is a bird that in some belief represents an angel that guide souls.

Damian's character development in this AU is to become one with Gotham, work with her and not against her, even though he wasn't originally from Gotham.

After Tim and Joker incident, he got it pretty bad because his best friend although survived, their friendship died. Since there was no physical body to bury it , he carries it in his moniker, likes a Cardinal is said to guide souls to a better place.

It will make sense later on when I introduce Jason and Dick.

Tim Drake

Yellowhedgehog, what did you do to Tim!

Yes, I made Tim bald, or like a fade bald? Yes, there is a reason.

After 3 days of captivity in the hand of Joker, the drug that he got injected makes his hair grow green for several years. Tim didn't like that. He didn't like hearing Joker's laughter in his head or be reminded of Joker when he saw the J Joker carved into his skin.

So he took back control the only way he could think of. He torched himself on his cheek to let it be a reminder that he survived Joker and not because Joker lost interest in him after the madman successfully got Batman's attention.

He buzzes off his hair because he will not let Joker controls him when he looks into the mirror and see someone who is not him.

So yeah, I hope that explanation brings answer.

Why is Tim's color the same as Nightwing?

I made Tim's color dark blue, but I'm not sure what color will represent Dick yet.

Blue is associated with green to some aspect. They are close to each other on the color spectrum. So why doesn't Tim chose a color far from Joker?

In physic, there are three main colors, Red, Green and Blue.

So my thought process was, Since a blue filter absorbs green and red, its perfect for Tim.

And while Joker's color represents craziness and chaos, Tim's dark blue represents calmness and stability. (Can anyone guess what Tim's future will be?😏)

Therefore, I made Tim, blue so he can swallow Joker whole.

What are some small details you also add to Tim and Damian?

There's no way it might come up in the plot but!

Damian has finally got a pet! It's not a dog tho! It's a hedgehog! *Nervous chuckle in self-insert*

Tim got addicted to cigarettes. This is because he uses nicotine to relieve stress and to ease his phantom pain from Joker's torture. He is trying to quit tho, cus Damian don't like smokers around the children.

Remember the goldfish in Part 1? Tim still has it! He named it D.A.L.F (Danger.Avoided.Lucky.Fish). He thinks it suiting because the goldfish was save from Damian's hand. Tim built a whole ecosystem for his goldfish. He took the goldfish when he moved away too.

Those are all the details I have thought up for now.

Thanks for reading!

[tmwcs]

could you please do heeseung seeing y/n wearing another guys shirt? maybe like jake had let heeseung borrow his clothes but heeseung forgot to give it back, so heeseung goes ethan mode when he sees y/n wearing it without realizing it’s the shirt he forgot to return to jake.😭😭 this just popped up into my head before i went to bed so sorry if my explanation skills are ass rn lol.

Edit: so i totally forgot to add the title and warning label. apologies, i'm still recovering from being sick and am not 100%

"Daddy's Shirt"

Warning: Roughness hinted, Heethan gets a little jealous/filled with rage, misunderstanding, some softness, yandere love....yandere traits. Some....choking.....

“You wanna Netflix and chill pretty?” He asks as you both enter the room.

“I’d like that baby.” Stretching your arms, you sigh out as you release the roughness of the day. It felt so long, and the amount of study sessions further drained you of all your energy. Changing over, your back remains facing him as you dawn only your panties. With your back bare, Heeseung flashes a glance and bites his lip.

“God damn she’s magical…..if there was anything her parents did right, it was making her.” He thought as he watched you slip on one of his t-shirts. He loved seeing you in his tees, with no bra and just a simple pair of panties….it’s no wonder he takes you as often as he does. You were drop dead gorgeous and so easily accessible for him to grip his hands on. Watch you, all the while staring at your derrière, you slowly turn to walk over to his bed, when you noted the sudden shift in his features as he sees the front side of the tee shirt.

“THATS…..NOT…….MINE……” with the face of Ethan quickly appearing, wide eyed and sadistically glaring with anger in his eyes, shoots forward, scaring you to death as you grabs your wrists and rams you against the wall. “Whose is it and WHY are you wresting it? “ he snarls rather maliciously. His glare was muderous and twisted as he snarled a very eerie smile….imagining all the torturous acts he would do to whomever was the owner of this piece, and teach you a lesson with a rather harsh punishment.

grabbing onto you jawline, he grips gently, but firmly as he forces you to remain facing forward and directly at him. “Fucking open that sweet mouth and start talking…..BABY….DOLL.” Gritting his teeth while flashing a devious smirk, much like the jokers smile, you felt yourself falling into the depths of ultimate fear as you witnesses Ethan nearly unhinged.

“wait….wait….it’s not….it isn’t like that…” you stuttered as he gripped your neck tighter, licking his lips and eyes you up and down.

"Baaaaaaaaby........you need a reminder on who you belong to?" he grits his teeth once more, his fingers digging into your skin and his grip tightening to the point where you started to feel your air intake becoming restricted.

"E....Ethan......its....its hard to breathe...." you softly gasp out as your lips remained pursed open, yet he foudn you so delectable and amazing like this. Especially when you were due for a punishment.

"Good.....fucking choke on it some more." gritting his teeth harshly, he leans in and kisses you with the heated passion you have yet to feel coming from Ethan, or Heeseung. He kept his grip steady, neither loosening nor tightening it, keeping it at the medium it was so as to not hurt you, yet causing you minor discomfort to reflect his current emotional rage.

"Ready to get fucked princess?" he smiles as he reaches his thumb upwards, pushes your bottom lip down, spits inside, and orders you to....

"Swallow."

With glossy eyes, you did as he bid and gulped down his own slaver matter, feeling it travel down your throat as the cooler temperature reflects its foreign entry.

"Pl...please.....Ethan.....its.....its not......what you think." wincing as you felt pulses of his grip tightening and loosening, you reach up and stroked his hand, cooing him the best you could loosen the grip permanently. Knowing that fighting or struggling wouldn't work in your favor, since the man was significantly stronger than you, the only option you had was to show him love....because he needed it.

"Its.....its a shirt H/N bought......ugh!" feeling his grip slacking, he raises a brow and silently with his gaze demands that you elaborate.

"She....ugh......she bought it for Jake but....she got the wrong size...and asked if i wanted it......i wore it to surprise and ......and give....it to you.......ugh!" gasping, he releases his grip entirely yet kept his hand planted around you.

"Is that so?" he deeply and calmly asks. You nod eagerly with tears forming in your eyes, somehow you felt terrible that the wrong impression was delivered, and you felt bad that things went this way, but what got you the most was that for a moment in time, the man you loved the most...the one that took care of you and adored you before anything else, including his own well being, was hurt. You never wanted to hurt him.....yet you inaverdently did so. Keeping his hand loosely wrapped around your neck, he takes out his phone and dials in Jake.

....................

"Hey Heeseung whats up?"

"Hey....question......did h/n recently get you a shirt in the wrong size?"

"oh yeah, the one that has the bears on it? yeah, its cute but its too large, i told her to ask y/n if she'd want it to give it to you."

"mmhmm...."

"is everything good?"

"everything is fine.....now.....just wanted to clarify. thanks. "

"yeah man, see you later."

......................

Turning his head and tossing his phone on his desk, he turns back to you as his hand drapes downward to your shoulder, where he gently grabs your arm. Looking at the teary, wide eyes staring back at him, with the look of fear and sadness in them, he looks down and brings you in to his chest.

"dont cry.....i'm sorry...." he calmly whispers with a stoic face.

You gently sobbed into his chest, feeling guilty. You should have just presented it to him rather than wearing it, considering it was a man's tee shirt, one that was unrecognizable to him, no wonder he drew to the wrong conclusion.

"I-.....i'm sorry.......i should have just given it to you...." you stuttered out in between your quiet sobs.

Petting your head and shushing you, he presses his lips against your head. "Shhh.....dont apologize. You didnt do anything wrong, i overreacted." he paused and gulped for a second before he continued....

"I dont like the thought of losing you....i was scared......and when i get scared......i go crazy........" he admits as he holds onto your waist tightly.

Nodding your head, you return the embrace and felt reassured that things were okay now. You should have known better, for as long as you've been with your man, you knew that his obsession and insane love for you was abnormal. It was scary, horrifying even.....it was abrasive, rough, controlling, mentally abusive even...with the way he was always clinging onto you and creating rules that restricted your freedom in the relationship.....his everlasting presence around you...no matter where you were or where you go......restricted your freedom...yet.....because of these traits.....he was also protective....he always brought you home and rescued you from danger....he loved you hard, he loved you softly, he loved you....just you...only you.....and he showed countless times, that he was willing...and has always been willing, to do anything for you. There was not a thing you would change about your man.

Gently pulling you back and stroking the pieces of your hair away from your face, swooping all of your locks over to one shoulder, he eyes you up and down and admires the tee shirt you had on.

"So you thought of me when h/n showed you this?" he gently speaks as he places one hand on the side of your neck, his thumb gently stroking on the areas where faint prints of his fingers were left from his previous hold. The other hand caresses your cheek as he smothered you with kisses in between his words.

"Mmhmm....." you innocently hummed into his kiss.

"Yeah?" he kisses you again. "Yeah baby? you're always thinking of me?" he kisses you two more times.

"Yes......i am..." you utter out in between his kisses.

Pulling you harshly in by your waist, he deepens the kiss and rolls his tongue aggressively in your mouth as he forces you to arch your back, planting his free hand on the back of your head to pull you in more.

The tee shirt wrinkles in his grasp, the white fabric feeling soft against his hand. The adorable logo in the front crinkles as he raises the hem of the shirt to snake his hand in between your legs, where he begins to take his performance to a heightened level. Pausing the kiss for just a second, he whispers.....

"I like it...........and i love you." continuing, he proceeded to do everything you ever thought imaginable in the aspects of loving someone....and fucking them......Ethan redeemed himself the moment his finger, tongue, and his member entered inside you and brought out the womanly spirit out of you as usual.

The next morning, you woke up and heard him typing away. Raising up, still nude and covered by the sheets and blanket, you sit up with your legs over the edge and gently rub your eyes as you look over his way. A smile softly appears on your face with a gentle chuckle accompanying it.

"you're wearing it...." you smile.

He smiles back as he eyeballs the screen on his laptop, while blowing you a kiss and tells you.

"I am.....i like it. Think i'll fuck you in it again later....." sighing in his palm as he rests his chin and props his elbow on the desk, he gives you a sly side eye under the hood of his matching white cap, and winks before giving you that infamous dashing smirk.

Enjoyed this piece? Show love and treat your girl to a cup of coffee. ♥️  ☕ Ko-fi: ko-fi.com/reinbow

[mistymisfit]

So long, Marianne I

Summary: Reader is a spy working undercover in Gotham when she meets Jason Todd, who despite her better judgement she forms a very close friendship with. This story follows their escape from Arkham asylum, their fall out and the times they run into each other as they get older.

Relationship: AK!Jason x Meta!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of violence (I'm serious, tho- in canon it's also pretty violent), angst, hurt/no comfort (for now), this series is just my excuse to write angst lol.

A/N: *CIPA means Congenital insensitivity to pain and anhydrosis aka people who are unable to feel pain. see the end for more notes :)

Word Count: 4,2K

Read on AO3

Part 2- Masterlist

He repeats his question one more time before kicking your stomach again, "Who are you?". He's been asking the same thing for the past... month? Time gets blurry when you're kidnapped. Fuck, undercover work sucked no matter who you did it for. Whether it was your actual boss or the big bad bat himself, they should all make it up for making you endure this--make it up by dying, you thought. God, whose stupid idea was it again? Letting yourself be kidnapped by the Joker so they could track his lair and see if he had any connections to your current case, ah yes... your boss. Not even Batman would ask you to do that, at least the man had some moral code he hung onto, maybe a little too tight. You've earned an early retirement after this assignment, almost two years living in Gotham, out of everywhere. But what neither you or your boss expected was that he'd know your "secret identity" was fake, that he would torture and kill the agents who worked with you and pretended to be your family--or that they'd sell you out. You whisper, they were not even words just an unintelligible sound. He lowers down, putting his ear close to your mouth to be able to listen better and asks you to repeat yourself. You bite him, as hard as you can and draw blood, lots of it which you spit out with a smirk.

"Fuck you" You taunt and he just laughs, holding his wounded ear. The laughing is excessive, it reverberates around the entire room and you brace for the next impact. But it never comes.

"I think it's time you met a friend we have in common" His smile makes dread set in on you, who? By his standards it could be anyone, from someone you actually knew to someone you've never met but was there to pick up on his dirty work as he went to do other things. He pushes you with his feet until you lay on your stomach and begins to cover your hands, you count the layers. First some kind of cloth, then plastic wrap, then aluminum foil, then a bag to hold it all together. Right, you let everyone believe your healing abilities could only work with your hands.

He drags you up, grabbing one of your arms as he walked you to a different room. The side of his head still bled, and you watched the blood fall down and how it got no reaction from him. He must be used to pain or there must be something wrong with his pain nerves. Maybe not enough to be CIPA* because you have seen him wince and experience pain before. Your feet fail you, you can barely take steps due to how weak you are. Every bite of food you've been forced to take ended up being spat or thrown up moments later. You can feel how chapped your lips are, how tangled your hair is, how deep the bags under your eyes must be, the way your arms hurt from being tied behind your back for too long, how much you must look like shit. He opens a door to a mostly dark room, you can only make out a figure sitting on a chair under the singular light in the entire room. He--yeah, it's a guy definitely, you think--he's got his head low, his posture isn't close to being okay and upon further inspection you realize he's tied to the chair. He's pushing to walk in his direction, and you recognize that hair, even though less dirty, and that side profile way less hurt. You knew that person, you knew him maybe a little too much for your mission.

Jason Todd was once your friend, possibly the only friend your age you've ever had. You met him when he was Robin, being instructed that working with Batman may end up being beneficial at the end of the line you were told not to antagonize him. Even helped him every once in a while to get at least his respect. The first time you ever talked to Jason-- or rather Robin at the time, was when he sprained an ankle one night. You were there, trying to gain info on an illegal arms shipment that was arriving that night "We just have to know who bought it" they told you. You weren't there to stop them, you barely were allowed to actually stop bad things from happening and sometimes you envied that in them. They were their own person, they could have lives, make their own decisions, have agency of their own. Instead you, poor you, you had nothing but your work, no family you knew of, no goals of your own, nowhere to go if you wanted to quit. You healed him, at least that you could do. Maybe word would get out of a new vigilante with "unspecified healing abilities", they didn't have to know you actually manipulated time and just turned time back to a moment they weren't hurt. And from that moment on, unknown to you, he had a crush on you.

He started following you around. It's not stalking he'd justify it, he was just investigating. Making sure whose side you were on because after all you were on the harbor the day he stopped some local gangs from getting their hands on bigger guns. But he found no more than your cover story, neither he or Batman could leave a secret identity be secret. He believed your cover story, no one had any reason to question it. You were just Marianne, a simple girl. A simple girl with superpowers who healed his ankle. Later, when you became closer, sitting next to each other on the rooftop of a building looking down on the city lights, and the traffic that still moved late at night, you explained to him that your powers came from a freak accident in a lab when you were a kid. That much was true, most of the things you told him were true. At the time you felt he was someone who understood you, and he felt the same. And that's how the both of you started developing feelings for each other. It was more than just a crush and the need to have the other closer kept getting stronger. You kept reminding yourself that you couldn't, that you were being so unfair to him, keeping him in the dark about who you really were, if he knew the truth he would never have trusted you. So when you were told he died, how Batman was so sure of it, you regretted everything. You were so decided on telling him the night he disappeared, why didn't you do it before? You've been living with that ever since, the regret, the guilt. And it only got worse when you found out he was dead, knowing he died not knowing your real name, he died believing your lies.

"No," you try to stop, not to get closer to his corpse. "what kind of trick is this?"

"Ah, come on- he's still your friend, isn't he?" You struggle, not letting him move you and putting your entire body weight into it, every strain of energy you had in trying to stop it. How sick is he? He kept his body all this time. Tears fell on your face just thinking about it. How much he suffered, how violent his last moments were, how he didn't get justice or a proper burial.

"You can't even respect the dead," You cry "I'm gonna rip your heart out of your chest with my bare hands, do you hear me? I'll make your death so violent even Batman will feel sick"

Your threats started falling out of your mouth faster than the logic in your brain could work, you shouldn't be saying those things. You couldn't be making empty promises like that, you knew you couldn't kill him. You would never be allowed to do it. He laughed, and laughed and pushed you to fall on your back right at the feet of your dead friend. You looked up, just a peak to see his face one last time but he didn't look decomposed, in fact he even had fresh blood on his face. You also saw his chest moving up and down very slowly, was he sleeping?

"Ah, how sweet of you" The man awes, pretending to be flustered by her death threats "but I didn't kill him"

He steps closer and slaps Jason's face, yelling "Wakey, wakey! You have a visit!"

You watch in shock at how he his eyes open so fast, how his head shoot up and the fear in his expression starts to settle in. He wore an orange jumpsuit, as if he was just an inmate more, his cheeks were stained with tears, there was dry blood on one of his nostrils and his lower lip had a cut. Not to mention the "J" scar on his face too.

"What did you do to him?" You ask, sitting up from where you were.

"We were just having fun together, right Jason?" He grabs his head from behind him to make him shake it, saying yes. "and you and I can have just as much fun, soon as you start telling the truth"

"Ma-Marianne?" His voice is rough and low, it was the first time you heard him scared.

"Yes," You crawl closer to him, and look up at him before resting your forehead in one of his legs to hide your face as you started to weep inconsolably "I'm so sorry, they said you were dead, that-"

There is a deadly silence filling the room , where you can only hear your ugly sobs. Jason doesn't respond and you didn't expect him to, but at least they let you cry in peace. Taking in the fact that he'd been alive all this time, thinking about what he's been put through as you mourned like an idiot when you should've kept looking for him. How you abandoned him, how everyone abandoned him. And that made you feel even worse than your initial thought of Joker not letting him rest after he died, because in that case there was nothing you could've done but now... You felt his leg move lightly and you looked up, maybe you were making him uncomfortable and this was his way of saying it. He mouthed a little "I love you" when he knew your captor wouldn't see it. Just then as you gave him a small nod and mouthed "I love you too" you saw he was crying too. Soon his tears fell on you, and he moved his shoulder and turned his head to wipe them off as he sniffed.

"Aww, isn't it romantic, Mr J?" Harley's voice sounds from behind you but you couldn't bring yourself to look away from him. You were getting out there tonight, fuck your cover, fuck your job, he was the only thing that mattered right now.

"Young love," He sighs, dreamy, as if he knew what he was talking about. Like he knew what love felt like at all in any way, shape or form. "We'll have a little menage a trois, It'll be fun dont cha' think?"

And soon enough you felt Harley's arms holding you down as he put a rag over your face and proceeded to throw water. Jason screamed, asking them to stop, that you had nothing to do with them. You coughed when they stopped, at least maybe your face was clean and free of the blood you bit from him earlier. You could handle getting waterboarded, you've been trained to endure all sorts of torture methods. What you couldn't handle was hearing and seeing him like that.

"Now, your little girlfriend hasn't been entirely honest with you"

"I don't know what you're talking about, I've already told you who I am" You insist, this time actually desperate.

"Ah- and who are these two then? Liars?" He shows him, not you, a picture of your fake parents dead. Then he shows it to you, of course Jason thought they were your parents, you gave him no reason to believe otherwise. "Cause you see, I thought you were just another annoying kid, getting in the way of my game with the bat- but you're much more than, you're too good"

Silence, you were trained better than this. They put the cloth on your face again, trying once more to get the truth out of you.

"Hey, maybe he knows" He switches up quickly, and takes a piece of broken wood to hold it over Jason "Come on tell me, who's her? And why is your old man protecting her?"

"Her name's Marianne, and he's protecting her because she's my friend"

"Ah-" He imitates a buzzer noise, like he was in some game show "Wrong answer" He hit him.

"Stop it!" You yell, as he repeatedly hit him. You struggle trying to break free from the woman holding you. Until you managed to hit her with my head somehow. You feel the pain in your scalp from her teeth hitting you too.

"This is useless mista' J," Harley spoke, doubt filled her voice. Maybe you were telling the truth, maybe you were just who you said you were and he was too lost to see it. "the girl's been saying the same for months, and her parents weren't even that convincing when they said they weren't her folks"

You watch them leave, him being visibly angry at her for questioning him. Only for him to come back moments later, almost bolting to Jason saying "I have a show to run outside, could you two behave and wait for me here?" Like you had much of a choice, then he said "And hold this for me, boy" before stabbing him. Of course he couldn't stop by without leaving him with an open wound of any sort. You rushed to him before the door was even closed, you removed the knife from the wound with your mouth, your hands still tied behind your back and wrapped up in multiple different layers in a failed attempt to stop you from using your power. Your eyes lit up as you healed him, his pained grunts eventually coming to a stop.

"I bet I look like shit right now" You joke, resting your cheek on his thigh once more. T rying to hide the fact that, despite the situation you were in, you were still a bit embarrassed that he saw you like that.

"You're the prettiest girl I've ever seen in my life" He confesses, not a single strain of joke or sarcasm in his statement and it makes you blush before you move to the back of his chair to untie him.

"You only say that because you want me to free you" You say before grabbing the rope with your teeth, taking longer to undo the knots than it would with your hands on your back and not being able to see what you were doing. If only they didn't think your powers worked from your hands.

"His ear, you did it?" He asked, getting a muffled sound of confirmation from you. "That's my girl"

The scoff in which he said it made you blush again, your cheeks were heating up tonight. He knew if anyone was ever getting him out it would be you, not Batman. His mentor probably started to look for a replacement as soon as he went off the grid. He knew you would never betray him, that's the only thing the Joker couldn't torture or manipulate out of him, the one thing he could hold on to. His kidnapper was wrong, he was never Batman's or his. He's always been yours, probably since you healed his ankle. The ropes around his arms loosen until he's free again, his muscles were sore but soon the adrenaline would kick in and rid him from all pain. He frees his legs in a hurry as you stand up in front of him, he stands up too again. The stretch felt good, moving on his own felt good, and seeing you again felt even better. You turned around, it was his turn to get rid of the ropes now. He grabbed the knife that you couldn't use and cut through your bindings. Still he couldn't help but think about the worried look on your face, what are you thinking about? How to get out? Him? Whatever it was, he took a moment and the second you turned to face him again he wrapped you in a hug. Feeling your warm body against him for the time in so long, you return the affection hugging him just as tightly. He feels relieved, finally a gentle hand lays on him, a hand that he knew could never hurt him.

"Jay, I-" You hesitate, hiding your face in his chest while trying to hide and get the courage to tell him at the same time "I have to tell you something"

"Can it wait until we get out?" You shake your head no, he had to know so you could break out from there. I mean, it was kinda hard to break out of Arkham without help.

"No, uhm, we need to call for help" You start "There's a chip on me, I need you to cut me and take it out"

"What? Help from who?"

"My agency" You admit in a whisper, and just as fast as you got him back you feel how you're loosing him a second time. He lets go of you, and you can feel the distance he's putting between you two more than any torture Joker put you through.

"Where is it?" He asks, his tone cold and detached. You try to hide how hurt you were, you should've expected it he had every reason to be mad.

"Here" You lift your shirt up and point to the place where the tracker was, on your lower stomach right above your hips, on your left side.

He nods, and you lay down on the floor so he can get to work. He touches you, only to get a feel of where it was and you try not to think that this will probably be the last time you feel him so close as you put your arm over your mouth to stop any noise that may come out of you. He cuts your skin, and you bite your arm and hope it's quick. With the end of the knife he swiftly pulls it out in between all the blood coming out of you. You tell him to step on it so it gets destroyed and sends the message, as you heal yourself. He wasn't even watching you, his eyes were fixed on the door processing yet another betrayal.

"Jay, I wanted to tell you-" You try to explain but he cut you off shooting a serious glare at you.

"I don't care," He was cold, his voice severe and it even scared you "get me the fuck out of here and we'll talk"

You nodded on the verge of tears, then deciding that holding on to the hope than when you two were somewhere safer he'd be open to have a conversation was your safer bet to maintain some sanity. Maybe then he'd listen to your apologies. At this point you weren't hoping for absolution but a truce would suffice. Why did you have to go and fuck it up? Why did you have to go and fall for him? You knew who you were, a spy trained for most of the life you remembered who worked undercover in Gotham, you knew you were not supposed to have any ties or emotional connections. You cursed at whoever gave you feelings and made you human, instead of whoever turned you into a machine.

"We should get moving, get to the extraction point"

He just nodded, it was short and formal, so unlike what you were used from him. He followed behind you as you carefully opened the door. There were no guards outside, so you moved. Soon an alarm started to blare through the rotten and worn down asylum wing, that's why the hallway was so empty. Two inmates run past both of you, pushing you to a wall in the process. You reach to grab Jason's wrist to make sure he's behind you but stop halfway through. Probably being touched by you was the last thing he wanted. So you just walk, decidedly pushing through this situation you were in. Armed with nothing but your fists you take out a man twice your size, you easily dodge his punches and swiftly move around him to hit him in key points that he leaves open. Jason watches, and realizes as you jump to the man's shoulders and snap his neck that you had been holding back all this time. He understands you have been capable of using lethal force but chose not to, though he doesn't know the reason for that. Was it because of Batman? Was it because you were ordered not to? He pushes down the thought, as he should be more focused on the guy he was fighting instead of you. You keep moving, going up to were a helicopter would be waiting for you. What you didn't expect was the Joker's backup plan, Death-stroke, pointing a gun right at your head. Shit, you didn't even tell him about your powers yet, he was going to be even more pissed if you didn't find another way out of this soon.

"Out of my way kid" He tells you "I'm only getting paid for not letting him leave alive, but I don't mind wasting a bullet"

"Oh, fuck off" you sigh tired, you just wanted to get out of there. You were exhausted, you wanted a shower and to sleep on a real bed and if it wasn't too much to ask maybe see the light of the sun. So you froze him, time stopped for the man in front of you. "move, it won't last long"

Jason wants to ask, he's itching to know. How did you do it? How did healing people translate into what you just did? He had so many questions for you, about you. Every time a new question came into his head he felt even more offended, he thought he knew you so well and turns out you'd made him out to be an idiot. He feels like an idiot and for that he's even angrier at you for lying, for keeping things from him when he had been so vulnerable to you. That you knew everything about him yet he knew barely anything about you and even what he knew he doubted it was even real at all. But out sheer stubbornness he wasn't going to ask, he'd rather take the curiosity to his grave.

The loud noise of a helicopter becomes more clear as you head up, and then you recognize the all black uniform and standard weapon of your agency. Confusion painted your face, why would they send backup instead of it just being an extraction team. Usually they didn't have a care in the word if you got out in time or not, even going as far as leaving you behind once. They weren't usually this helpful, or willing to use resources on a simple rescue mission. The help didn't last long since you heard the gun shot coming from where you came from. Shit, it wore off you better leave quickly. You tell him to run, to keep up the pace and he does, promising himself this was the last time he would trust you. It was all fine and well, you could see the escape route clearly you almost made it when you heard it. Jason held the bleeding wound from the bullet, stumbling until you helped him. You stole a gun from a passing agent, they wouldn't notice since it was just their back-up, and shot at the mercenary. Your aim was just a little off, since you were also holding a person with your other arm but you managed to hit his arm. The bullet just grazed him, your friend didn't have the same luck. You shot again, just to create some cover so you could move. It worked, you made it to the helicopter before he passed out from the blood loss. Sadly you couldn't heal him since the bullet was still there, so in tears as you took off you managed to stop his bleeding until you got help.

Of course your supervisor wasn't happy about you escaping earlier than expected or that you bought him along. But after some promises and insisting, they agreed not to let him die and took him to the closest headquarters. You knew the conditions they put on you were harsh but you thought nothing was worth more than his life, so you agreed. Even if it mean never seeing him again, why did it matter anyways? It's not like he wanted much to do with you after today.

A/N: Like I said on the notes on ao3, I'm sensitive and this is my first time posting what I write in a LONG time so have patience with me lol.

[beelsnack]

Imperfect - Obey Me! Boys and an MC With Scars

Continuing my trend of hyper-specific self-insert fics lol

This is me projecting a little bit, I have quite a few scars. I'm diabetic, so I don't heal very well. Also, the scenario described in Mammon's part actually happened to me, so...yeah, ya boi is projecting.

There is a part two in the works, I just don't want to make this post too long.

Content Warning: Mention of self-harm in Belphie's part.

-----

Lucifer: “Can I ask you something?”

The two of them were enjoying a rare moment of peace, sipping on hot drinks together in the early morning. Most of the occupants of the House of Lamentation were still asleep, or the ones that were awake were busy doing their own thing. For once, it felt like the world was allowing them to take a break.

Lucifer set his coffee cup down and regarded them with the soft, fond look that he seemed to reserve for them alone. “Of course, my dear.”

“If you could…” the human cleared their throat, shifting their weight around nervously. “If you could get rid of my scars, would you?”

Lucifer’s expression hardened, and for a moment they were worried they had made him angry. An apology was halfway out of their mouth when Lucifer stood, making his way over to their side and cradling their chin in his gloved hand.

“If you wished it, it would be so,” he rubbed a thumb over one of the pock-marks on their cheek. Not only had cystic acne left a constellation of marks across their face, they had always bruised easily so even the mildest of injuries left scars. 

“But you are exactly the way you need to be as you are,” Lucifer continued. “And I wouldn’t change a single thing about you.”

Mammon: “Did it hurt?”

At first the human thought that Mammon was attempting to use a cheesy and potentially blasphemous pick up line on them. But when they looked up from the TV show the two of them were watching while curled up in their bed, they realized that he was looking at the faded red-purple marks adorning their legs.

“Well, it didn’t fucking tickle.”

Mammon flushed. “I didn’t - I mean - uh, shit, um - “

They shoved him good-naturedly. “Don’t worry about it.”

Both of them sat in silence before they decided the awkward tension was too much. “You wanna know how I got these scars?” they asked, in a terrible Joker impression.

“Not if you’re gonna sound like Heath Ledger while telling me.” 

The human snorted. “It’s not even that cool, honestly. I was helping move some furniture, and the house had a pretty long set of concrete steps. I was going backwards down the steps, lost my footing and ate it from about six feet in the air.”

“Fuckin’ hell,” Mammon hissed, wincing in sympathy.

“I have one on my arm, too, but that one’s a bit more faded,” they held up their forearm. The discolored patch of skin was barely visible in the dim light from the TV, but Mammon could still tell it couldn’t have been a pleasant experience. “Had a split second to chose between bashing my head in or fucking up my arm.”

“...I’m glad you chose your arm?” Mammon shrugged.

“Me too,” they laughed.

Leviathan: He was staring.

The human was starting to get a little uncomfortable with how intensely Levi was looking at their face. They knew the scar on the left side of their face was intense - it had been a constant reminder of the house fire they had survived when they were younger. But Levi didn’t have to stare at it like he was committing it to memory.

“I’m just thinking…”

“Thinking about what?” The human wished they had a hood to hide behind or something, they were starting to get angry. 

Levi must have realized his error, because he suddenly turned bright red and looked away, hand covering the lower half of his face in embarrassment.  The human felt a little bad, but at least Levi wasn’t gawking at them anymore.

“...y’look…lrpzuko…”

“...Come again?” 

“I said you look like Prince Zuko!” Levi blurted before pressing his hand harder against his mouth. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, I’m just gonna - “

“Wait,” the human pulled up their phone camera. “...I kind of see it, holy shit.”

Satan: “So where did this come from, anyway?”

He knew it probably was committing some sort of social faux pas to ask, but Satan was a curious creature by nature, and he figured that he and the human were close enough. Figuratively and literally, considering they were laying with their head in his lap while the two of them were reading.

When they made an inquisitive noise, he idly drew a clawed finger down the long, jagged scar decorating their forearm. He felt them stiffen against his legs, and when he looked up he saw the apprehension on their face.

“I…God, it’s so stupid…”

“Come on, it can’t be that bad,” Satan urged. They hesitated a bit before sighing.

“I was fighting with this kid in…it was either middle school or early high school. I went to walk away because I was kind of getting sick of arguing with the moron, but when I turned around they shoved me hard enough to knock me over. I kinda like…flung my arm up, to protect my face, y’know? And since it was outside it got all scraped up. Never healed fully, I guess, so now I have this.”

Satan hummed thoughtfully, tracing the outline of the scar. It was faint, barely visible in dim lighting, but it was obvious that the human wished it wasn’t there.

“You fought back, right?”

“Duh.”

Asmo: “You seem very focused there, darling. Don’t quite know your shade?”

The two of them had been standing in the foundation section of the local Dephora for a while now. Asmodeus knew the store like the back of his hand and had already scooped up all of his favorite products in addition to a couple new drops that had made their way onto Devilgram. The human, however, hadn’t moved for about 20 minutes.

“I mean…I know my shade, but…” they hesitated, hand idly drifting towards the side of their neck. “Coverage is more what I’m worried about.” 

Asmo’s brows furrowed. The human had a scar from when they got splashed with hot oil as a child, and they were notoriously self-conscious about it. Aesthetically, Asmo understood - it wasn’t pretty, it looked like it had hurt and if he could he would use every bit of his magical power to get rid of it completely. But it was part of the human, and Asmo loved it regardless.

He slipped a hand overtop of the humans, causing them to look up at him with worried eyes. Asmo’s own eyes softened, and he leaned over to press a gentle kiss to their forehead. “Darling, if you do want to cover it up to boost your confidence, I will gladly help you pick out foundation and concealer. But you know you don’t have to if you truly don’t want to, right? That I’ll love you no matter what?”

The human looked away, but Asmo still caught the shy smile they wore as they leaned into his hand. “I know.”

Beelzebub: “Can I help you?”

Admittedly, the human was a little paranoid about whether or not people were staring at them. But this time, it was very clear that Beelzebub was staring at them, and they weren’t sure how they felt about it. They were cooking dinner, after all, they might not even be the thing that Beel was staring at.

“That mark on your shoulder.” 

Immediately, the human tensed up. They had thought that the shirt they were wearing covered up the conspicuous birthmark on their right shoulder, but apparently not. “What about it?”

Beel paused for a moment. “It looks like a potato.”

They turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow. “Does it? I can’t really see it all that often.”

“Mm,” Beel nodded before unfolding himself from the stool he was sitting on and coming up to hug the human from behind. He leaned down to nuzzle affectionately against the mark, and the human felt their apprehension begin to bleed away. “I like it. It makes you, you.”

They remained silent for a moment before a small smile tugged at the corner of their lips. “Thanks, Beel.”

Belphegor: “Did you do that to yourself?”

It took a minute for the human to realize what Belphie was talking about. They had just changed into their pajamas, and they honestly had thought Belphie was asleep. But apparently he had been awake enough to notice the evenly-spaced cut marks along the insides of their thighs.

“...Yeah,” they muttered, hiding their face in his chest. So much for a peaceful night’s sleep. “A while ago.”

“Why?”

They shrugged. Honestly, thinking about that particular time in their life wasn’t something they did often, at least not consciously. Every time they did, their heart rate increased, their breathing sped up, and it suddenly felt like they were in that dark room again with nothing but their spiraling thoughts - 

“You don’t have to tell me,” Belphe muttered against their hair. “Stay with me, now, okay?”

He ran a hand up and down their back soothingly, and it would never surprise them how gentle Belphegor could be for a demon.

“You want to know what I think?” Belphie allowed his fingers to trace the marks along their thighs, but the touch was distinctly platonic. 

“Mm?”

“I think,” he pressed a kiss to the crown of their head. “That you were going through a lot, and those scars are proof that you made it through.”

The human stilled, processing, before they snuggled deeper into Belphie’s embrace. “You think so?”

“Mm-hm,” he hummed sleepily, hand stilling against the small of their back. “Not that I’m glad you have them, mind you, but nobody goes through hell completely unscathed and you shouldn’t feel ashamed of them.”

[aztarion]

hiii jez, your sol tag is incredible and i love everything about her!! best aesthetic & best most fucked up vampire bbgirl of all time <3 do you have any interesting facts or random tidbits of lore about her that you are willing to share or link me to? wish to know everything & more about her asap tysm 🥰

whaaaat hi bree!! 😭 that oc tag is so thrown together and unorganised girl youre insane putting yourself through that but omfg its til death do us part now 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

i dont really post writing with my ocs much on tumblr but i blabbered for like an hour here im so sorry in advance i hope its a little entertaining…. tw for ed mention and self harm but its just your regular vtm stuff if youre familiar with the background ttrpg

soledad is her courier alias, she usually goes by that or the inevitable nickname sol, which doubles as a small remnant of her old life — her real name is solona ^^

she is first gen mexican-filipina, grew up in california before moving to arizona

didn’t care for academics much; preferred working with her hands — she dropped out of studies as soon as it was acceptable and went into business training under her dad and older brother as a mechanic

very laidback, easygoing, quietly contented; never had sprawling ambitions or aspirations and she was cool with that (was and is a little bit of a perfectionist with her work tho). this created a wedge with her mom who did nawt like the notion of her only daughter wasting prime years and a pretty face in a dingy garage. (i never get it *exactly* how i want in art & have never found a faceclaim i love, but i kinda picture her overall look as like. a timeless, slightly restless sort of dark beauty; like her eyes are always trying to tell you something in spite of herself, even when she looks totally serene lol)

anyway! one of moms fears are realized — sol ends up with a very noticeable facial scar (semi glasgow smile? mouth to under ear and a little further than that even, cheek just super spliced) due to an accident in the garage. sad! oh well she’s the joker now (or she will be after julian)

wait actually while im yapping about backstory i deviate a little from the game options just to make things more juicy and personal but! to me she first meets julian having to work on his suzuki and they hit it off. pre-night road as mentioned she is very easygoing — easily charmed and is herself charming — they def get along like a house on fire. julian would no doubt mentally take note of her whole roll-with-the-punches, laissez-faire attitude — naturally that just seems like a quality that might come in handy when you bite someone and turn them into a creature of the night. also the attentive, methodical approach she takes to her work, and when needed, her on the spot workarounds — he doesn’t want some dumb unreliable chump childe. and alright bear with him here: so it’s not relevant strictly in terms of her being thee potential great american embrace candidate he may be planning for right now, but man shes kiiiiinda cute and the scar is kiiiiiiiinda badass and its kiiiiinda hot that she knows exactly what she’s doing under the hood.…….Julian’s of course no slouch but he prefers it when others are doing the dirty work for him and she knows her stuff. so he’s thinking yeah this might work out. wait did she just say she plays nintendo too — oh this is definitely working out.

well it didn’t work out — sol ends up caitiff. julian accidentally botched her embrace 👍 whoops. but he teaches her blood sorcery as soon as possible — she can fly under the radar as a regular banu haqim. so it does work out! the sire/childe bond likely did some heavy lifting in terms of their relationship but sol was still pretty dopey heart eyes for julian in the beginning, like truly thought he was brilliant and funny and followed whatever he said no questions — really trusted him, figured with him being more experienced and so whipsmart and knowledgeable that he was utterly infallible. julian knew best and like didn’t he keep her safe trying to cover for the whole clanless thing……how could he have anything but Good Intentions dot dot dot……

in the decade after julian goes MIA, sol’s entire demeanor takes a nosedive. in the ingame text, julian and d’espine are described as being ‘fledgling-like’ in that they still have that liveliness to them, like a constant subtle Blush of Life effect. sol had that too in the years w julian, but after so long alone and having to maintain that isolation in order to ghost by in both the human world and undead while drugrunning & couriering, she gets cold — corpse and mind. outwardly she’s very composed; there’s little to no animation (no once-effortless smile, not even a ghost of the dimple in her unscarred cheek ! ) but her inner monologue is distrustful, has aged — is honestly a little paranoid and bitter sometimes — and overly nervous where she once would never have been. when julian returns it’s noted how young he still seems in comparison. that doesnt help the grudge she holds

i think her nerves skyrocket even more so when she feels aila stir. while u cant choose merits/flaws in night road like the table top, i feel like she would have the bulimic derangement that causes a kindred to gorge or throw up blood at random after feeding due to stress — she’s literally just THAT internally anxious. the game makes a point ensuring youre well fed on your next visit to tucson’s elysium since you showed up starving at the beginning, but after the office confrontation with lettow asking what happened to aila — which despite going successfully & having an excellent relationship with him — sol still probably LEGS it out of the viper once dove interrupts and ends up vomiting in an alley before jumping in her car🤦‍♀️ so much for paying alexander to acquire blood and making a good impression this time…..what a waste. and u know what Riga probably saw the whole mortifying ordeal too smh

ok im sorry i could talk abt the entire game like this i have so many headcanons

ooh straight up just facts & a little tldr:

so she’s 5’8; long pretty neck, slim hourglass figure with soft heavy curves, distinctly confident arms and legs, various tattoos: depictions of scorpions and snakes, the sun, spanish and tagalog script in black and red ink. she’s around whatever Julian’s human age wouldve been, i guess mid twenties range

is Julian’s Childe but due to a botched embrace ends up caitiff. masquerades as a banu haqim that, when in the presence of more prejudiced vampire society, in turn masquerades as something traditionally camarilla-fronting: malk/toreador/ventrue, whatever. it’s complicated! por los clavos de cristo does she wish she was back in that shitty little garage 20 yrs ago

throws up when nervous; is constantly a little hungry and risking an oops moment but for the most part maintains iron composure — its become a whittled and useful hard shell

learns blood sorcery right off the bat from julian, learns protean from lettow after staking reremouse w him. she usually keeps things clean and impersonal with a gun and deft precision (and elena with more guns!) but she still likes working with her hands: in close combat, especially when it involves other supernaturals, she keeps elena out of the fight and doubles up that weird combo of blood sorcery + protean — is frankly just a messy blur of slit wrists bloody sigils and slashing claws. (ough wanna draw this ugly visual so bad but omg i just know it wouldn’t work out w my skillset rn)

omg i feel like ive gone on forever in a bunch of directions while saying nothing helpp. ill stop here and spare you! thank you so much for asking bree!! :D <3 you have to tell me about your courier now!!

^ us night roading