#tbh when i thought of mob

[that-was-anticlimactic]

universe of constant spinning, every end a new beginning

“So, do you have an umbrella? That was like, your thing, right? At Claw?”

Ah—not again! He can’t keep zoning out while talking to people—especially his boss.

But… why was Reigen still here? It was late and he always got to work early. It wasn’t his job to stay and coddle his employees. “I—uh—no,” he stuttered, fingers twisting anxiously. “Mine was, uh, "is” broken, sir.”

‘Broken’ was a mild way to put it. More like it got destroyed.

[or, reigen gives serizawa an umbrella]

☔️2,651 words | serirei☔️

#corey writes:) #HOLY TRASH #no guys last year i challenged myself to write and post one fic a month so that i made sure i was still taking time to do what i enjoy #and not lose myself to school work right? aND I DID IT!!! so i challenged myself AGAIN this year and none of the stuff i've been working on #is fully done and i had time so i started this last night and worked on this on my down time during student teaching and when i got home! #this prolly isn't Great but it's short and something i've been thinking about since the minute i finished s2 sooooooo #and the brainrot has been SO real and actually tbh i'm pretty surprised that the fic i wrote isn't r.itsu centric lol but this idea would #NOT leave my head and i knew it wouldn't get super long like all of my r.itsu and kiddo ideas ijuhbgfvbhyuio #mp100 #mob psycho 100 #serirei #serizawa katsuya #reigen arataka #mp100 fanfic #serirei fanfic #guys it's about the m.lb umbrella scene okay #idk maybe this has been done before but also i. do not care because Feelings and i diD IT even tho its at the last minute lol #oops i need to shower i'm teaching all day tomorrow and my supervisor is coming to observe me ahhhhh send good thoughts pls jiuhygtfghuijoiu #okayyyyy i'll stop now i ramble when i am sleepy or nervous and i am Both i just don't want this fic to be bad but ig i panic a bit before #posting any fic haha gonna go shower now MWAH love y'all <333

[tennessoui]

Just got done playing Red Dead Redemption 2 for like the 10th or so time. Very heavily story and character based and fun video game to play. Anyways, I was thinking of an Obikin AU set in during the 1890’s with Obi-Wan being the muscle behind the gang like Arthur Morgan is like they both of Scottish heritage and look similar. Then Anakin bring an elite member of society and they somehow always meet under circumstance fall in love. However, it’s hard for Obi to leave his gang since he shoulders the majority of responsibility for his gang and idk go from there I suppose.

(checks my notes) well let's see i have a regency au, i have a pirates au, i have a mob au (....many mob aus, a GROSS amount of mob aus) but i don't have a historical mob au.......

this has very little to do with red dead redemption 2 as i got halfway through reading the second paragraph of the wiki article and then realized it'd be pretty embarrassing if i researched this more than i researched my star wars fanfictions. anyway enjoy this adjacent au called my 1899 au:

(1.7k)(sorta dark because this is their first meeting and obi-wan does hold anakin at gunpoint):

Anakin has almost gotten used to the jostling movement of the train enough to go to sleep when it screeches to a halt on the tracks. He blinks open his eyes in indignation at the cessation of movement, getting ready to stand and demand answers from the conductors.

Then he hears the first gunshot, accompanied by loud exclamations, and he quickly realizes that demanding anything from anyone is suddenly not his job anymore. Even if he’s riding in the first class carriage.

It actually seems to be a very bad idea to be riding in the first class carriage right now, considering how sure Anakin is that the train he’s on is currently being robbed. 

He’d heard of this happening—his mother is one of three judges of this territory, a role second only to that of the governor, of course he’s heard of the train bandits currently terrorizing the Western frontier. But—in the chaos of his…forced relocation, he hadn’t even thought that he might not even arrive at his new prison cell at all.

Train bandits.

His heart is in his throat as he stumbles to his feet in the silent carriage. Distantly, he can hear voices, but nothing so close that he could not…slip away into one of the working class carriages. His clothes would not fit into the population there, but perhaps he could offer some silent bribery to the other passengers in exchange for not turning him over.

Train bandits love the elite, of course. Anakin has heard the horror stories. No. That will not be him. Shmi Skywalker’s son would never allow it.

Perhaps he can steal a cap from one of the other men. His hair suddenly feels too nice, too clean, though it’s been days since he’s been able to wash it. The train ride from New York City to the American Frontier is harsh, but now he’s suddenly worried that it is not harsh enough. Will he stick out? Is he in danger? Will he be hurt—or worse, killed?

He has no parameters to judge that future. Well. Only the one. But then, he’d been behind the blade, not on it. Would it hurt? Clovis had not seemed fond of the experience, but would it hurt to die? To—

His hand grapples with the lock of the carriage door, just as it’s pulled open.

Anakin blinks into the face of a bandit.

“Going somewhere, love?” The man asks with a smirk, eyebrows raised slightly. When he steps forward, Anakin steps back automatically. Everything about this man, from his worn leathers, patched clothing, sweat-stained bandana round his neck, this-side-of-unkempt beard, and black ink of tattoos swirling up and down his forearms spell danger.

“Are you a hero then, love?” the man asks with something akin to interest in his voice. “Rich boy, ready to save the day?” One hand falls to rest on the grip of his gun. 

Anakin swallows. “No,” he mutters. The man tilts his head slightly, as though in agreement.

“No,” he repeats. He has an accent, though it’s hard to place. British almost, but a drawl as well. Anakin hadn’t been aware that any of the British had ever made it this far into the Western territories. But this man looks as if he were born to wear the desert on his skin, no matter how pale he still is. Freckles dot the expanse of his face and forearms, and his cheeks are stained slightly red. Even then, he fits here better than Anakin ever could.

“Leave,” Anakin says. He tries to demand it. It’s very hard to demand anything in front of this redheaded scoundrel. But it’s second nature for him. If he wants something, it’ll happen. That is the nature of his life. “I demand that you—”

“Sweetheart, maybe you don’t understand the situation,” the man murmurs. He kicks the door of the train shut behind him as he walks forward until Anakin is pressed against the glass of the train’s window pane. Then he draws his pistol and presses it carefully against the thin skin of Anakin’s neck.

He should do something. He needs to do something. He is going to die if he doesn’t do something.

“I’m going to make the demands here, love,” the bandit says. “And you’re going to….acquiesce.”

Anakin clenches his eyes shut and turns his head to the side. He can feel the bandit’s breath on his face. He can smell him, all sand and sweat and sandalwood.

“Oh, no need to look so afraid, darling,” the man coos. What a strange thing to say when one is holding a gun to someone’s throat. “I just want your nice things.”

“I don’t have nice things,” Anakin mutters, refusing to turn his head back to look at him. The man starts to scoff, and Anakin can feel the barrel of the gun pressing harder against him. “I don’t.”

“Pretty boy like you don’t have pretty things?” The man asks, and a hand comes up to grip his jaw, to turn him forcefully to face him. “Now I doubt that.”

Anakin grinds his teeth together, working his tongue furiously, trying to find the words.

He doesn’t have nice things. He murdered a man. He murdered his best friend’s fiancee and then couldn’t even bring himself to marry her. He should be in jail, but that’s not how this America works. He’s been sent out to act as a mayoral warden for settlement Tatooine, Utah because you can’t jail the son of one of the judges of the territory for a duel that got out of hand. You can only strip him of his wealth and send him to the ass-end of the very world, a place so sandy and miserable that you make him almost wish he’d been imprisoned instead. 

Instead of saying any of that, he rears back and spits in the face of the bandit, who blinks at him uncomprehendingly for several seconds before slowly and carefully wiping the insult off his skin.

“You ain’t from around here, are you?” The bandit asks without asking. His eyes gleam in the low light of the carriage.

“And thank the good God for that,” Anakin replies, even when it gets him what will surely become a livid bruise on his neck—if he lives long enough.

“Ain’t no good god here,” the man murmurs. “And I reckon you don’t quite understand the situation you’re in or else you’d be doing everything I tell you.”

“Like what?” Anakin challenges as though he doesn’t currently have his heart in his throat.

“Like taking every single ring off your finger and giving them to me on the double,” he responds, and Anakin’s breath catches in his throat. But—but it’s alright. Fine. Yes, he can survive this loss.

He’s only shaking slightly when he starts to remove the rings from his fingers.

“Thank you darling,” the man says, holding out his hands for the jewelry. Anakin glares down at it, but drops the metal into his palm. It’s absurdly large. Anakin is absurdly angry abou this fact.

“I heard gunshots,” he mutters as he works. “Have you killed anyone?”

“Probably,” the bandit nods. “You know, these train robberies, they do tend to bleed together, you see….”

Anakin sneers. “Not for the people you hurt,” he replies, glowering down into the bandit’s eyes. 

The bandit looks like he’s considering Anakin’s words. “I suppose not. How interesting. And here I was thinking this was getting a bit dreary.”

Anakin opens and closes his mouth a few times, no sound escaping at all. “Dreary—-”

He wonders if this man even knows about dreary. Dreary! Anakin’s life was dreary! Anakin’s life was a series of parties and chatter and fake laughter and insipid smiles and hinted marriage proposals. This bandit’s life couldn’t be more different.

“Hm,” the bandit agrees. “And, darling, what do you have there just around your neck?”

Anakin’s now-bare hand flies to his throat, carefully avoiding the barrel of the gun. “Nothing.”

“Now, sweetheart,” the man tsks, sounding so disappointed that Anakin feels the absurd urge to shy away, “if you’re going to lie to a liar, at least do it well.”

Anakin swallows. “It’s—please. Please, sir. It’s my mother’s.”

The bandit narrows his eyes. “I don’t seem to recall caring. Show me.” The gun presses harder against his skin, moving up to rest against the underside of his jaw.

“Japor,” Anakin breathes out because he’s not an idiot, and he doesn’t want to die. He doesn’t. He should take the necklace off now. He should. He should give it to this thief. But—but it’s his mother’s. It’s the last tangible reminder he has that she loves him, not when she could not even look him in his eyes while the governor ran his trial. It was Governor Palpatine that decided his exile. Shmi had not said a word.

The bandit is silent, and Anakin chances a look under his eyelashes at him. He seems…considering.

Two callused fingers come up to play with the cord of the necklace, and Anakin tilts his head back to let them. Japor is rare in the Americas. It’s expensive. He will lose this today. He will lose this now.

“Hm,” the outlaw says, pressing so close to him that there’s no part of their bodies that isn’t touching. “Hm. Can’t see such a sweet boy lasting long out here,” he murmurs, ghosting his bearded jaw along Anakin’s to mutter into his ear. Anakin contains the most inappropriate shiver he’s ever felt. “I know where you’re going to get off, Mr. Skywalker. We do our research around these parts.” 

At the mention of his name, Anakin’s breath freezes his throat.

The bandit chuckles slightly. “And one day soon, if I still want it, I’m going to pick that necklace off your corpse. Sweet and soft don’t survive around here long. Mark my words.”

He lets Anakin go so suddenly that the release in pressure makes him sag back against the window. His chest heaving with every breath, words of the man still ringing in his ears, Anakin forces out his one burning question: “Who are you?”

From the doorway of the train compartment, the man smirks. It’s a mean thing. The bandit flourishes into a bow. Anakin’s stolen rings glint in the low light from where they’re now placed on the man’s every finger.

“Obi-Wan Kenobi,” the outlaw responds. “At your service.”

#asks #obikin #obviously i wanted to write a cut to scene bit where anakin makes it to his new house #and he wakes up in the middle of the night to bandit-mob boss obi-wan smoking in his window and looking at him #and obi-wan tells him that he's run this town for years #by figuring out what the guy in charge/mayor wants #and either giving it to him or threatening to take it away from him #and he's like 'it's just a matter of time before i figure out what you want darling' #before leaving through the window #and leaving anakin with the strange thought--'you. i want you.' #prompt fill #1899 au #i was this close to just wrriting that second haalf #and i would later if anyone wants tbh #i do think it's funny how all my dark obi-wans just DO stuff to their anakins #like that is just so so so opposite of how i love them when it comes to canon #so it's always so funny to me tbh

[personne-reblogs]

AUTISTIC SWEEP

The shouts of the crowd are fading into white noise. 

The curtains are closing. 

The lights are dimming. 

The air still feels filled with static, though. 

This is a fight Donatello had known he couldn’t win, logically. The competition had been all fun and games, but this challenger was another story. No amount of support or hype could make up for such a gap; the bone deep certainty didn’t leave room for hard feelings. 

Struggling to catch his breath, battle shell against the wall, Donatello looks up from where he’s been getting some rest - not passed out rest, mind you. More like a beauty nap.

He lets out a genuine chuckle. 

Shigeo Kageyama is simply standing there, as he has been for most of the fight. 

“Sweet Marie Curie,” he puffs, keeping his voice level. The roar of the crowd hasn’t entirely died down, but he knows he is heard. “You don’t even have a scratch.”

The one they call Mob is giving him a stare. He still seems a little out of it. 

“You fought well,” he states calmly, and Donnie giggles. 

“Oh, please. I’ve been losing tournaments at home for as long as I can remember. You don’t need to feel sorry for me.”

At that, Mob flashes a grin. “I’m not sorry,” he says bluntly, coming over in lazy steps. “But it hasn’t been easy, either.”

He sits down, legs stretched out in front of him, and Donnie can now see that his breathing is a little heavy. He feels himself get cocky. 

“Well, I wasn’t about to just let you win. If I had to go down, might as well give ‘em a show, right?”

Mob sends him a sideway glance. “You really are all about dramatics.”

“What can I say?” Donnie sighs theatrically, proving his point. “This whole competition is about being swag. I could hardly disappoint.” 

“I don’t think you could," his opponent utters. “You’re very expressive.”

Donnie raises a perfectly drawn eyebrow. This is something he hasn’t often been told. He looks over to Mob, and the tension in the boy’s shoulders makes him hum in thought. 

“I don’t know who’s next, but you are going to crush them,” he provides. When Mob gives him a nonplussed glance, he goes on. “And even if you don’t, it’s still the last one. How good does that sound?”

“... it has been getting a bit much, to be honest.”

“Yeah, this is wild,” Donnie agrees. “Anyway, what are you gonna do with your trophy once you get it?”

Mob’s smile is a little shy, but he seems happy with the distraction. “I don’t know, actually. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten one. What would you do?”

“Well, you see, there was this one time I won the Lair Games…”

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

In the next room, a very proud sensei and three worried brothers are getting impatient. 

The student and the sibling don’t seem to care at the moment. 

The crowd is gone. 

The curtains are closed. 

The lights are off. 

For now, making small talk with a former rival is just enough.

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

EDIT: there is now a sequel!

YOOO IT'S BEEN SUCH A WILD RIDE

Disclaimer: I have never read/watched mp100 and I deeply apologize for making him probably very ooc. Just wanted to celebrate this beast of a match in my own way, which is wishing I could draw and deciding to heave words on a doc instead lol

CONGRATS ON MOB!! The final match between mp100 and undertale is gonna be soooo funny but I think Mob's gonna win this thing like it's nothing tbh (he has my vote at least)

@autismswagsummit thank you for reblogging all that Donnie propaganda, I genuinely think he never would've made it this far without the signal boost!

All my thanks to the Rise fandom for these past few days! You guys have made such powerful content and there's been so much hype I'm shocked. SHOCKED I TELL YOU

#donnie sweep #mob sweep #autismswagsummit #donatello #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #save rottmnt #unpause rottmnt #mob psycho 100 #mob psycho #mp100 #mob #writing #my writing #original content #i dunno how i tag these anymore

[viridwns]

The way I've been daydreaming about an innocent and go lucky darling slowly being caged by demon!Chrollo.

Also I wrote this at 2 AM so expect spelling mistakes and the plot making no sense. Tbh this sounds like regular Chrollo as well.

Demon!Chrollo, who was summoned by some low ranking mob boss. The idiot thought that with a demon by his side, he would quickly rise the ranks.

Demon!Chrollo, who manipulated said boss in summoning his troupe as well. After he didn't even need to flick his wrist or bloodsplatters already tainted the walls

Demon!Chrollo, who has waited millenias to be summoned again. Being locked away by the zoldyck's for messing with their affairs was a greater problem than Chrollo would've liked.

Demon!Chrollo, who kept a low profile, preparing him and his troupe to start hoarding things from the human world again. Especially rare ones that were not easy to obtain. He was crazy about that.

Demon!Chrollo, who slowly but surely gained power again, wreaking havoc on everyone who did him wrong. He stayed in the shadows while he did, pouncing on human souls when they least expected it. Oh, how he missed feeding of the people from earth.

Demon!Chrollo, who first saw you in your pretty white sun dress wearing a big white bow in your hair to match. You were sitting by a window reading in a smalltown bookshop. He had been planning on taking over this town soon enough. He needed to gain as much strength as he could before terrorizing the big cities like York New.

Demon!Chrollo, who grows curious of you. The bookshop itself was deserted. It also didn't help that you were wearing something so bright in contrast to the dim shop. Even the town was somber, so why were you dressed all pretty and light?

Demon!Chrollo, who couldn't help but focus intensly on your soft face. You honestly looked like the human version of a bunny. Is this what humans meant with cute?

Demon!Chrollo, who is amused by your lack of awareness. He's been standing in the middle of the shop for 10 minutes staring at you, and you were totally captivated by your book

Demon!Chrollo, who can't help but clear his throat. Biting back an involuntary smile when your head moves into his direction, but your eyes stay on your book a while longer.

Demon!Chrollo, who says he didn't mind when you apologize vigorously for making him wait once your focus shifted on him. He finds it strange how he didn't kill you yet. You were alone in a deserted place, this was the perfect opportunity, but yet he can't help to find out more a about you.

Demon!Chrollo, who finds out you were the owner of the shop, but business has been running slow. You were still weirdly upbeat, even when you were on the verge of going broke.

Demon!Chrollo, who buys a few books based on your recommendations, you just keep rambling on to him, not a care in the world. He lets you reach for books on the highest shelves, just to see you stand on your tippy toes. Your frilly dress lifting ever so slighty for him to see where exactly your stockings stop. Mid thigh. He swoops in last second, when you were about to get a ladder, leaning over you from behind and getting the book; apologizing for letting you do so much work.

Demon!Chrollo, who can't get enough of your soft smiles, small giggles and your sunny personality. When you're from a world that has only seen the worst of mankind, you were a welcomed refreshment.

Demon!Chrollo, who thinks it's stupid how fast you trust him, but it bothers him more to think about how quickly you would trust others. You just don't seem to think you can get hurt.

Demon!Chrollo, who takes the initiative to visit you every day. He must protect his angel.

Demon!Chrollo, who is surprised by how little you know about the actual world. You see the world in rainbows and glitter, not having seen what's out there beyond this smalltown life. When he told you one of his 'adventures' (leaving the not so pleasant details out) you couldn't get enough of it.

Demon!Chrollo, who has to hold back when you listen to him with your eyes wide and big, your mouth slightly parted, and your overhelming load of questions.

Demon!Chrollo, who secretly wants to corrupt you. Every time you wear a pretty bow or a white dress with lace stockings hugging your legs so nice, he can't help the urge to bend you over the cashier, lift up your so easily accessible dress to find out you are wearing silk panties and fuck you so hard your purity ring shatters right off your finger.

Demon!Chrollo, who wants to show you what he is, what an angel like you has been spending time with. He wants to drag you with him to hell, to consume your soul and make you like him.

Demon!Chrollo, who likes to show off just a fraction of his strength to you by moving furniture where you want it. Or who uses his speed to steal some of your stuff from right under your nose. You won't know it was him, you're too oblivious.

Demon!Chrollo, who never had such intense attractions to a human before. He wasn't inexperienced when it came to mates, but those were all to quench his needs. He couldn't help but want to lock you up and keep you at his side forever.

Demon!Chrollo, who uses his alluring voice to make you do what he wants. You won't even remember the next day. Thinking the bruising on your thighs is just from bumping into too many corners (even though some bruises look like very clear bitemarks of something that has sharp canines)

Demon!Chrollo, who won't penetrate you just yet. He wants you conscious for that. He uses his outwordly looks to seduce you. You're very playful, he finds. He never knows if you are flirting or just being...you. When you steal his book from him and he responds with cornering you, coming up all nice and close in your face, but you only respond with giggles, slapping the book in his chest and booping his nose before escaping his trap.

Demon!Chrollo, who also wants to keep you the way you are. Who wants to keep you as his little human who fills his day with a lovely smile. He wants you at his side as he destroys town after to town, as he becomes stronger and more powerful.

Demon!Chrollo, who keeps his cool with you but slowly cages you in. You don't leave the bookshop that much anymore, not when he is there most of the time, keeping you company and somehow taking care of your every need. He has taken a personal claim on your pure soul, and demons are very posessive of what is theirs.

#viri can't help it #yandere chrollo lucilfer #yandere chrollo #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere hxh #hxh #hunter x hunter #chrollo lucilfer x reader #chrollo #chrollo lucilfer #chrollo x reader #yandere chrollo lucilfer x reader #yandere chrollo x reader

[definitelynotshouting]

Idk if this is Hunger AU canon or my own personal fanon but

one of the "calling cards" that the Watchers used in Evo was bedrock

bedrock is unbreakable by a player

perfect for trapping the player you're using as a Watcher incubator

and the texture looks rough af

when you get desperate you often try to do stuff to escape even if it's impossible, right

so what I'm saying is

probably one of the last things player!Grian did was tearing his hands to shreds trying to break bedrock out of sheer desperation

which makes all the passages in your fic where he's staring at his hands even more *gestures vaguely*

(idk why I typed this out in this format but it felt right so I'm going with it)

MAN OKAY THIS IS SUPER COOL i especially adore how youve connected it with the way i keep having Grian stare at his own hands???? which ftr is smth ive only just now realized i do all the time AKDBWKDJKSSJ this is JUST like the scarian jaw kisses thing HELPPPP 💥💥💥💥💥💥💥😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 but thats such a cool thought!!! And utterly angsty i love it >:]

Its also made me realize i dont think ive ever actually told yall what did happen during that interim where Grian was captive as a Player before he died and became a Watcher, so buckle in i guess as i try to explain this one to yall (obligatory cws for captivity, parasitism, violated autonomy, body horror, and major character death discussion)

Yknow the world borders the life series has?? It was like that, but tiny. Maybe a couple chunks' worth of space to move around in. He spawned into a savannah biome and the Watchers specifically in charge of keeping an eye on him (pun intended) penned him in with the borders, implanted the specially-coded larva, and then retreated back just outside the server's barrier code to, well. To Watch.

So post Evo dragon fight the Watchers convinced Grian to join them without telling him what that entailed. They then proceeded to whisk him away to the server cluster's dev crystal, which is where the remnants of this Watcher colony made their semi-permanent home. There, held together basically only by the Watchers' ability to manipulate code, they had Grian make a brand new server.... and immediately trapped him in it.

He spent a year there slowly dying, eaten from the inside out by a parasite that was collecting his memories, copying over his stats and personality, with very limited space and resources to get by with. I know he built a tiny house out of acacia, but it never got any bigger than a starter base. He lived off of mostly bread and the meat from a few animals that spawned in with him; he primarily used stone tools, because those were what was most readily available. It was a very terrifying and lonely year, where all access to the outside world was cut off, and he was meticulously watched over to keep from dying while the larva inside him continued to grow and destroy him.

The Watchers were mostly hands-off in terms of interaction, but they did do regular check-ins to ensure the larva was alive and that there was no danger present to its host. Hostile mobs were carefully warded off, and Grian spent most of his time alternating between begging them to let him go (they never responded), trying to figure out ways to escape (it never worked), and tending to baseless chores just to keep from going out of his mind as his body grew weaker and weaker and more unstable around him.

I have a lot of feelings about this tbh, bc its just such a bleak scenario to think about-- trapped in a tiny cage with something killing you from the inside out, and your captors wont even talk to you about it properly. Being left otherwise to your own devices, with the terrible, lingering knowledge that, even if it was under duress, you still agreed to this. The fact that, after a certain point, after your questions and pleas are summarily ignored and brushed aside, you finally realize: you aren't meant to survive this. You are going to die.

A juvenile Watcher's first meal are the emotions during their host's last few moments. Grian was no exception; he cracked his way out of his own ribcage, and, without meaning to, amplified and feasted on Player!Grian's agony and terror as he died. With their memory codes finally disconnected, Grian had to watch himself through the eyes of a stranger as his terrified consciousness dissolved and his body fell apart into nothing more than loose strings of code.

Only then, still weak and flailing and helpless, was he was brought into the colony proper, in order to teach him how to be a Watcher. It wouldnt be for another few years before Grian gained the strength, control, and insight required to make his desperate escape. In total, i wanna say he spent somewhere between.... 4-6 years??? with the colony against his will. It would take another 4 for him to finally scrape together the courage to contact Mumbo and finally ask him for an invite into the Hermitcraft proper

One of these days i do plan to write that reunion, actually, which i'll add to the series as another prequel just like all the words that i forgot to say, which takes place roughly 6-8 months after Grian finally joins Hermitcraft. And if yall want to read an absolutely fantastic fic that deals with the moment Watcher!Grian was born and Player!Grian died, you should absolutely check out my friend @raichett 's fic Divergency, which ive pretty much canonized bc it REALLY hits the nail on the head for that situation.

Okay this got a lot longer than i meant it to sidhskdjej also those timeframes are a little squiggly bc i havent fully settled on where they fall on the general timeline. I wanna say Grian had been a Watcher for abt a decade by the time Mumbo got him onto Hermitcraft, though, so thats the loose timeline im working off of when i talk abt this :] anyway thanks for giving me an excuse to write this all out!!! while your idea about the bedrock isnt necessarily canon, i absolutely ADORE it and can totally see Grian just tearing up his hands while scrabbling against the world border.... utterly heartbreaking we fucking LOVE to see it. Thanks for sending in your ask!!! I always love seeing what you have to say about hunger au!!! :DDD

#shouting speaks #asks #hunger au #grian #watcher grian #evo watchers #UHM. LORE AHOY???? ITS A DARK ONE THO GUYS IM NGL #txt

[parkerflix]

— ethan landry hc’s

a/n: i literally cannot stop the ethan brainrot it is never ending (send help), not proofread tbh just a dump of thoughts

sfw! might do nsfw later idk lol

- ethan is the sweetest friend ever

-definitely has a crush on you, he’s very much friends to lovers even idiots to lovers

-like he’s so painfully oblivious to when people like him it’s not even funny ): he just thinks that people don’t really notice him

-what he doesn’t know is there are so many people who think he’s attractive (you’re also one of them)

-definitely you who has to make the first move he absolutely is a horrible flirt (he’s so lame i’m in love w him)

-his preferred first date is something lowkey, i feel like he would be so content just like going for coffee & going on a walk, nothing too fancy

-dream date of his is definitely going to the library and picking out books for each other and then discussing them together (AHHHHHH)

- he’s also a huge fan of just staying in and watching whatever you want while eating takeout

-this man would cook but he legitimately only knows 5 dishes. he cannot cook at all.

- he prefers your place over his, chad’s just always in the way and always inserting himself, your roommate literally just lives at their s/o’s place

-on the topic of watching movies & shows, he loves bad reality tv shows, but he won’t admit it, you catch him watching them after you had binged one season of a show (you don’t tell him, his blush & stuttering when he gets caught makes you smile)

-tbh i feel like he’s the type to ask you to be his s/o after a few dates, like you’re friends beforehand so he knows you, but he probably just wants to be cautious and make sure that you are on the same page

-chad gives him horrible advice on how to as you to be his s/o

- chad: “do a flash mob, that’ll get their attention”ethan: “absolutely not.”

-he eventually asks you out in the sweetest way

-take you to your favorite place and he prepares a cute love letter & mixtape for you, like on a cd

-he’s a romantic wbk idk i love him

-he definitely panics and forgets what he was gonna say when you just look at him and tilt your head in confusion

-“uhm… so as you know… uhm…”

-once you let him know he’s okay and you’re not gonna laugh, he finally asks and i swear he probably blacks out when you say yes

-“can you repeat that, i think i blacked out”

-he LOVES coming up behind you and just wrapping his arms around your waist, laying his head on top of your head

- definitely loves you in his clothes (also would never admit to this), but you notice he starts to buy more sweaters & shirts

- he writes you love letters every month, even if they’re just short and sweet, so that you always know you’re loved

-he’s kinda a klutz sometimes so you gotta patch him up, you notice sometimes he “falls” just to get a kiss from you

-gets you little presents whenever he can, even if it’s just coffee or something

-always let’s you know you’re loved, literally never lets you not hear it

-all in all he’s a sweet boyfriend man i love him

#ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x you #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry #jack champion x y/n #jack champion x reader #jack champion #scream 6 #scream imagine #scream fanfic #scream headcanons #ethan landry headcanons #ethan landry fluff #ethan landry fic #scream #jack champion fanfic

[mediumgayitalian]

fic rec friday 3

hi!! welcome to fic rec friday. every week, i pick five fics i have bookmarked and rec them with a little review. check them out!

Memories Made by zjass06

"Hi! I'm Will! You're my new neighbour!" the blonde boy beams; Nico frowns in turn, peering curiously at this Will. "My ma' says not to talk to strangers," Nico replies as he sits himself upon the grass. Will plops himself down next to the dark haired boy, who giggles so purely it makes his smile contagious. "I'm not a stranger, I'm your neighbour! You live next to me now and we can be friends!" Or A few snippets of Nico’s life and how his friendship develops with Will, all within a much treasured treehouse.

childhood friends to lovers will ALWAYS be elite. to me. and the centrality of this treehouse in this fic is so fucking cute bc they absolutely are the type of nerds to have a treehouse they use well into their late teens lol

2. Mafia by @buoyantsaturn

Nico is the most terrifying mob boss in New York, and Will is his live-in doctor. A Mafia Au

MY FAVE SOLANGELO SERIES TBH. like is it toxic a little bit? yeah. did the second one make me squeamish? yeah. in the 6/7 years since its been posted, have i read it literally DOZENS of times?? you betcha. idk man theres something about the danger of it all. the insane mob boss and the doctor hes whipped for. SO SO much fun and so so so romantic

3. you stormed into the battlefield (of my heart) by fedyaism

“Doctor Solace,” he says, “would you be willing to tend to a foe?” Will blinks. (He had practically expected everything but this.) “I’m sorry?” “I need you to heal an enemy for me. Can you do that?” Grace asks in a tone that lets Will know that he wasn’t really asking. “An… an enemy, sir?” “Yes. I will send him to you.” “Of course, General.” (What else could he say?)

this ends ambiguously but i am Choosing to believe they find each other again and live happily ever after for ever and ever bc im a weenie. its just...man fuck the military and i got no fondness for war BUT this isnt real and ergo i can sigh dreamily at love that is inherently kind of tragic and all the more desperately beautiful for you, yknow??

4. It's a Process by @oh-hush-its-perfect

When Nico comes out to Hazel, she really isn't sure how to react. Of course, she loves her brother to pieces, but something is holding her back. It takes a while to get over old beliefs. It takes a while to become accepting. It takes Hazel a while indeed. A.K.A. Nico is gay and Hazel can't wrap her head around it.

contrary to what the summary may lead you to believe, hazel is NOT at all homophobic in this fic. in fact her number one goal at all times is to be supportive, even as she struggles, and you know what? thats more important i think. her love for her brother is so transparently obvious in this one, she spends like 8k words doing everything she can to make SURE she is loving and accepting!!! hazel i love you. also the campfire scene had me giggling fr

5. three times everyone thought they hated each other by lizamarri

and the one time everyone realized they didn't ~ ft. capture the flag, big three kids sparring, will healing nico and being sassy about it, and more. enjoy!

NOTHING hits as hard as flirt fighting. truly nothing. also 3+1s are my weakness i stg, theres just something about outside pov and the sheer clarity of how much they love each other and love driving each other up the wall lmfao

thank you for joining me this friday!! happy reading!!

#is it easy going thru the entirety of the nico/will tag starting in 2014?? #no. #but are there some SHINING GEMS in there?? #absolUTEly omg #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #hoo #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #solangelo #will/nico #nico/will #nico di angelo/will solace #hazel levesque #hazel & nico #nico & hazel #nico di angelo & hazel levesque #fluff #angst #hurt/comfort #banter #fic rec #FRF #fic rec friday #longpost

[keirawantstocry]

If you're up for prompts I have a quick little idea.

Fit and/or pac realizing they like tubbo, or tubbo realizing he likes fit and pac. I just crave poly morning crew tbh..

I have never tried the poly from anyon other then tubbo’s pov so for you beloved mutual i will try 

also it got away from me a little i didnt expect it to be this long LMAO

Fit knew he liked Pac. To be honest it took a really long time to come to terms with it but he knew. He knew he loved how strong the other man was, how capable yet kind. That damn smile that spread across his face like the sun rising across the horizon on an early morning. So yes it took a lot of getting used to, there was a lot to get over, a lot of fear left over from 2b2t, but he knew. He knew how he felt about his son. He loved his son and would die for him. It had taken him a while to warm up to him, attachments were hardwired in him to be a danger sign of weakness. He knew how he felt about nearly every single person on the island. What he wasn’t sure about was how he felt about Tubbo. 

Every moment they spent together was fun, whether that be something chill like hanging out or something absolutely batshit like running full force at mobs to get into fights for no reason. Tubbo had energy. Infectious energy. During their time together, Fit felt that energy seep into his own body until he was just as energized. It was infectious and made him happy in a way that made him mad. He was frustratingly aware that his emotions about it didn’t make any sense. Finally after an incident where his frustration got the best of him and he nearly snapped at Tubbo, he caved and went to Phil. 

“Hey Phil?” he called out as soon as he landed beside the waypoint. 

There was Phil, kneeling in the soft dirt planting another flower that Tallulah had probably given to him. “What’s up mate?” 

Fit plopped beside him heavily. “I’ve been… feeling a lot lately.” 

“About Pac?” Phil asked with a laugh, his eyes twinkling with mirth. 

“No. About Tubbo actually.” 

“Oh?” Phil asked, his eyebrows going up in surprise. He laid down his equipment, abandoning the flower for the time being to focus his attention on Fit. “What do you mean?” 

“I’ve… been getting really frustrated lately? Not mad at him, just frustrated when he’s around? I feel like,” Fit tried to desperately rack his brain for an explanation. “He gets under my skin. That grin he does to Sunny when he first sees her. That laugh he does that turns into a wheeze as he struggles to breathe? It makes my chest hurt. I don’t. I just don’t fucking get it. I love him. Why am I so bothered by little things?” 

Phil took a long moment to consider it while he brushed off his dirty hands on his pants. “Fit, can I be completely honest with you right now?” 

“Of course.” 

“Have you considered that he’s not getting under your skin in an upsetting way but that that’s the only way you know how to react?” 

Fit blinked at him. “What do you mean?” 

Phil sighed. “There’s different definitions of getting under your skin. They aren’t all negative.” 

“I mean,” Fit laughed. “What else could it be?” 

Fit felt like his entire world flipped on its head when a completely unexpected question escaped Phil’s lips. “Have you ever thought about kissing him?” 

Stunned silence stretched between them. Fit’s mind was racing and his jaw agape. Now that was all he could think about. Gently kissing that wide smile, feeling it against his mouth. Being the one who received that smile in the morning. Being the one who caused that laugh the most, brought out that joy in him. “Holy shit,” he said softly. 

Phil chuckled slightly. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” 

“Holy shit!” Fit said again as his world fell back into place, as everything started to make a little bit more sense. “I have to find Tubbo.” 

#poly morning crew #qsmp fitmc #fitbo #techincally lmao #my writing #thank you for your ideas #kissing you on the forehead

[monsoon-of-art]

This isn’t related to anything you’ve posted lately I just had the thought and wanted to share it with someone who likes the characters of PL:A so I thought of you, sorry if that’s weird:

Kamado always says “people are still suspicious” when you finish quests and stuff, and I think most everyone reads that as “I, Kamado, am still suspicious” but what if he’s being literal. There are people in the village who saw you fall from the rift, who still fear the unknown deity that launched a humanoid into their mix, who think you are a witch. You have, from their view miles away, sent golden bolts of lightning into sky to exacerbate the rift. Now the sky has turned to blood due to your actions and they demand Kamado kill the witch. They line the street to watch you be marched out to your execution.

But instead of killing you, Kamado gets you out. He tells you till the sky is fixed you are banished. He specifically has his master swordsman accompany you as you walk out, to protect you from the mob. He “turns a blind eye” to you still using the camps to rest. He had once introduced you to the new arrivals as one of his best surveyors, he had complimented how you have made Hisui safer with Pokémon. He knows you’ve survived in the wild before.

Then he tries to help you by stabbing god himself while you’re away.

If Beni wanted to kill you, he could have knifed you in the back. Beni was DELAYING you. Delaying you to keep you away from the mad god and away from any armed Security Corps who may have turned their blades on you if you had shown up while Kamado handles it. Kamado is doing what a leader should—facing a threat himself instead of sending a child. Notably I don’t think he ever asked you to quell Kleavor, just observe, and he only assigned you to quell the others after you proved you could do so. In the same vein, when you proved to Kamado you could stop the mad god yourself he stands down, and immediately welcomes you back. Now that an audience has SEEN you stop a mad god, they know you aren’t against them now. The rumors are defused.

It makes as much sense as anything else. Why else would he so easily let you pass if he has a sword of his own, unless he never hated you to begin with?

Those are really fun interpretations! And honestly I'm getting tired of people painting Kamado and Beni as villains, tbh

Like yeah Kamado's decision is kinda shitty but like there's a little nuance here guys-

[hellolulu]

MAN Shigeo has grown.

[WARNING Another long post about Mob Psycho 100. Contains spoilers for s3 of the anime]

In season 1 any small situation was cause for a sudden +30% or more, and any danger immediately overwhelmed him and put him straight to 90%-100%. He was so easy to upset and anger, and we know that's because a. he's a teenage boy, b. he's not like the other kids, and c. he was always subconsciously trying not to feel anything, so as to not cause anyone any trouble. And anyone who has ever done this knows it is absolutely the best road to destruction.

Then in season 2 he started thinking more about himself - his place in the world and what he wanted. Accordingly, his % climbs (though still fast) were smaller, or at least took a longer time before hitting 100%. He had more control over his feelings but was still easily overwhelmed or swayed by the thoughts and feelings of others.

I think something that goes a little unnoticed is that during season 2, when he met Mogami, who was stronger than him and technically won their battle (but technically he gave up to Mob's ideals instead, which definitely impacted Mob's thought process of "I can help people by talking to them" which he never gives up on) - he learned an extremely interesting and unnoticed lesson from the guy; sure, he re-learned that he loves his friends, aw, but also, he learned that he of all people is easy prey to become an evil spirit - I think that's a big reason he spends the whole season considering his own feelings more, enough to argue with Reigen, based on Mogami's story, but I can talk about that in another post or this will get REALLY long. He also met that spirit family and realised some spirits just Live Here, which definitely pushed him to question his ideals on spirits and people blah blah (this happened before meeting Mogami, in case u need the refresh, and once again, I can talk about this in more detail another time).

He also met Suzuki senior in season 2, someone that he felt he could have an equal fight with. He enjoyed the fight, and finally got to have a feel for his powers. For a moment, he stopped ignoring the extent of them, truly feeling his powers out and letting them be destructive, even if only for one battle (the manga readers will understand my deeper meaning that the whole story is literally teaching him how to handle the final arc, anime watchers hold onto your hats - it's Good.) He was grinning and having fun, fighting someone that could match his energy (until he couldn't aha Suzuki senior loser moment) but when he remembered the people who needed him to protect them, he calmed himself down. And he really did!! Underrated Shigeo moment! He remembered his goals and he refocused himself toward them after being carried away by his feelings for much much longer than ever before!! Boss energy!

So in short, he spent the whole of season 2 questioning what his powers really mean to him, how much they are a part of him, and how despite them, he can live as a person just like everyone else. He's discovered that it is possible to be an esper and a person, and he goes into season 3 balancing these two sides of his life much better.

And now we already see in season 3 (there are only 5 episodes so far as of writing this) that Shigeo is not only able to think coherently about how he feels, and able to contemplate on much more complex, abstract thoughts, but he's also consciously able to choose how he wants to express them. He uses his powers in a new way through the season, moving and thinking at the same time, confident in his powers AND the way he wields them (the first instance of his gentle-but-powerful power show was probably during the end of the separation arc tbh, using it on all the cameras and such in front of a big crowd of people - able to show his powers in front of people, knowing with confidence that he's in control of them. Again, I can elaborate later).

And geez, the things he's encountering in this season would have made s1 Shigeo climb to 100% in a heartbeat - Hanazawa earnestly trying to fight him again despite being his close friend; everyone he knows being brainwashed in a way that leaves them intact but makes him their enemy; Dimple trying to push him to fight while also pulling his punches - the complexity of these situations are things s1 Shigeo definitely wouldn't know how to deal with: season 1 mob would be a mess. And WHEW, he would NOT have been able to calmly move past Ritsu getting brainwashed (regardless of Reigen's impact on him, s1 mob would have handled it much worse).

But s3 Shigeo is out there, consciously trying to understand the situations he's encountering, his own feelings, and the complex feelings of those around him, figuring it all out while he's in the moment. The extremely slow incline of 1% at a time again and again throughout this episode (s3e5), is so new to see, but it proves that he's got himself handled, and it's a true testament to his growth! He's in control of his own actions and feelings now, because he knows with confidence that he won't use his powers to hurt people unless he makes the conscious choice to - and he knows when it's appropriate to fight, to talk, and to run. He won't hurt people because he chooses peace.

Man, just, he's grown so much from the boy who was afraid of losing control at any given moment, and I'm really proud of him. That's one cool protagonist.

Side note: I cannot WAIT for the people who haven't read the manga to see what's coming in the rest of the season - it's incredible and I'm already losing my mind with excitement.

#mob psycho 100 spoilers #mp100 spoilers #mp100 #mob psycho 100 #shigeo #shigeo kageyama #kageyama shigeo #mob #mp100 shigeo #mp100 mob #lulu on the mic #I'm proud of all the characters and I cannot WAIT to write a post about ritsu too #give me a character and I will write an essay #mp100 I love u #mp100 s3 #essay #mob psycho 100 essay #mp100 analysis

[vitzi9]

Pretty gifts

Joker X GN!Reader

TW/CW: reader is androgynous, murders, talking about kys, work in catering (it needs its own warning), reader curses a lot, mention of vomit, stalker, reader throws up, racism, Gotham is hell and fuck capitalism, blood, violence

tbh i'm a little sad bc nobody ever give their opinion on my works. I put another divider (like the red heart below) in the middle of the story, not really to separate as it's following directly but bc some people find my stories too long so it's like a checkpoint. So when you leave, you know where you were. (It's really long)

also the end is a little weird bc I have no idea if this fandom is still alive so, yeah :) if people are reading, I might continue it. Thing is some ppl find this Joker ugly so...

I hope you'll enjoy this. (19/02/2024) (17k)

You weren't weird by any mean, okay ? Life in Gotham is just really hard. You got harassed, robbed and assaulted more times than you can count. And each time by a new profile type ! Old, young or teen, it doesn't matter, everyone is desperate.

Some of your colleagues at work are prostituting themselves and you for sure considerate selling feet pictures.

That's how life is in Gotham.

But weird ? You stare at the angry man before you, unimpressed. You can't believe he called you weird as well as an incestuous result. You're neither of these. Fuck, how is weird and incestuous his first thought when insulting someone ? Like, he could've called you a fucker, a bitch... Anything !

Your aggressor, if you can even call him that after this, shows you his middle finger while walking background. Quickly though, he loses his balance and fall on the ground. Well, at least he didn't beat you up !

You already got assaulted for your money, which you don't even have, you got two jobs and barely reach the minimal wage. But at the end of the day they, well, stole the few you have, you know ? When you think about it, he strongly smelled like alcohol. That's probably why he failed his attempt.

Even stealing is death here. You never know who you're facing. Hell, just yesterday a guy was killed because he tried to assault some big chief of a mob. Someone with a clown face. TV says the man's limbs were still not all found.

Shit, getting killed by a clown must be mad humiliating too.

You sigh, trying to ease your tired traits by passing your hand on your face. At least the day is over, right ? Another day closer to death. You drag your suddenly much more heavier body on some few meters/yards more, silently praying that no one else will bother you.

Thankfully, your cries were heard. Pushing the old creaking door of the building, you rush to the mailbox. Never have you been comfortable staying long here. The door is only behind you and you don't know if someone is able to enter with bad intention.

Speaking of the devil...

No mail except for this weird card yet again. It's cardboard displaying a drawing of a joker, withdrawn from a poker package. It's certainly not the first time someone pull this kind of joke on you. Though, you have no idea who this is and it creeps you out a little. You turn the card to see if a message was left and sadly, (or not) you were right.

You've been trying to understand who this was for a long time now but in a big city like yours, with god knows who or what ? It's just impossible.

As always, you hate to think this because you don't want this creepy card to become part of your habit, a messy handwriting greets you in black ink.

"I'm everywhere in this city, no one can touch me yet some are fond of me."

You stopped school kind of early so your IQ is probably not high enough for you to understand that. Plus, you don't fucking want to.

You grab the card with you in order to throw it once at home and rush to the stairs (some says someone got killed in the elevator plus it's not working since months so you're not taking it anymore). Finally home. Your hallway still smells like piss and a deadly cold reign here (Nobody knows why). Two of the four bulb of the ceiling has burnt out and a faint static noise is resonating in the whole property.

This building is not even in a neighborhood that bad. But in Gotham, not that bad is still bad. Because bad is sleeping to the sound of gunshot and broken windows. While here, there's still these but not as often as in bad neighborhood. But you can add the moans hearable in the night in it as well.

Your building is really old though, which explains (partially) the bad state it's in.

Taking out the key off your pocket, you start to unlock the door. Unconsciously, your mind goes back to the card of the day. "I'm everywhere"... What's everywhere? There's air. But they specified 'in this city' so air might be too simple.

No one can touch me yet some are fond of me.

You can't touch air and you're not sure people are fond of it particularly. Like, air's fine. It's cool as fuck but are you fond of it ? No. Then what is it ?

You didn't even realize you were looking at the card again, your door wide open while standing in the middle of the hallway ridiculously. Slapping yourself mentally for being so careless, you enter and close the door and all your locks shut.

Some are fond of me, huh ?

In Gotham, what are people even fond of ? Misfortune you'd say. These fuckers love to see others suffer and even make sure they do by engaging in others people life.

But you don't know if that's really the answer. Damn, can't they just give you simple question? Or even better: stop giving you any ?

You drop your bag on the floor, slouching your shoulders and throwing yourself on the couch. Fuck, you hate your life. Why are you even here? You don't deserve this life. Nobody does !

Haphazardly moving your hand, you end up successfully grabbing the remote. You need to empty your mind, or have a background noise at least.

The screen lights up displaying you the newest information girl. The last man disappeared after he made the mistake of letting show his politic side. It's obvious everyone is corrupted here but the mystery in this story is ; who erased him ? It could be mob, politics themselves, everyone.

This city is lost.

The woman is talking about the incessant inflation and how numerous factories and business saw themselves forced to close for good. You just hope your business won't shut down, you need money. What if it does close, though ? You were already sweating trying to live with two jobs, but what if you end up jobless ?

It'll be impossible for you to pay anything. To keep your apartment. To eat. What are you supposed to do if this happens ? You already thought about that and all of your long reflection session always end up on one conclusion: kill yourself.

Because there's no way you're living without job in Gotham while being in the streets. You would have left the city if you had money or even family out there but it's not the case. So yeah, killing yourself that is.

Sure it looks a little extreme but isn't earth overpopulated anyway ?

It's better than being killed. At least, you choose your death ! But you're gonna hope this still won't happen. Up to now, your job is yours so taking such drastic measures won't be necessary. And you hope it'll stay this way.

Damn, you're depressed again. You drown out your worries by hiding your face in your couch's pillow. Man, what capitalism is doing to one.

You switch the channel without looking where your fingers pressed, this time a man is talking. He's saying something about a criminal and quoting every one of his crime. It was going crescendo, at first robbery, assault and burglary but just next to all of that was terrorism and mass murder.

You want to turn your head and watch the profile of this man but are too weak to move. So you simply listen closely to the man voice to get answers.

"Yes, he's a dangerous criminal and he's in town. He already break free from Arkham asylum twice now. If one of you see this man; do not engage, hide and call the police immediately. He is incredibly unstable and may not be alone. If you think you can win against him, you're wrong. He's a manipulative man and a mastermind. If you're seen by him, you better start to pray. Ends the man on a serious tone. Man, this guy knows how to reassure people...

-Indeed, a true monster. But please do not scare our audience. Batman was able to capture him twice, we'll be fine. The man chuckles but does not sound really honest. To answer all the questions you've been a lot to send us, we'll have the pleasure of meeting mister Harvey Dent here, chief of the police department to answer your worries. Harvey Dent ?"

And the voice switched to the other man. You like Harvey Dent. You like to think he's the only man in Gotham who's not corrupted. He's helping the citizens. Unlike that Wayne man. This guy could single-handedly resolve the poverty problem, but does he do it ? Of course not. He's rich after all, why should he care for bum like you ?

Harvey Dent is talking but you're not listening. All you know is that he's trying to ease the population. The men on TV are always saying the same things: empty promises. How the police is already taking care of the problem, that it'll be better soon. Like the police isn't already too fucking busy harassing the wrong people.

Harvey Dent is your last hope. The only man who can change things.

You deeply hope his promises aren't as empty as the other man before him. You turn off the TV and relax in the silence of your flat for a moment, breathing in the perfume impregnated in your couch.

There's screams outside. You can't tell if it's the neighbors or someone outside. Either way, you stand up feeling your eyelids getting heavier by each passing second.

But before leaving to your room, you stop in front of your window and stare outside for a moment. It's nighttime now. The city won't go to sleep, oh no, it's just waking up. The police can already be heard in the distance with its loud sirens. This city really is chaotic. It's just everywhere, you can't escape it. Touching it isn't even possible, you can't grasp it, nor resolve it completely; it's in the air. You can't fight against it. Nobody fights against it.

Fuck, it's like they're fond of it, here.

Chaos, it's scary when you think about it. Because you can't guess what's going to happen. There was a time when you thought that anarchists could be right but if anarchy looks like this, you don't want it anymore. You just want some peace and respect. But it seems too much to ask for Gotham.

You fucking hate chaos.

The next morning, your limbs were so sore you almost didn't make it on time to work. Your boss reprimanded you about your delay, pressuring you by recalling you the time one of your colleagues got fired for it. You were only late of something like one or two minutes but it didn't matter to him.

He only wanted to feel superior. He didn't even need real reasons to yell at you.

The restaurant wasn't packed. Only the usual rich families wanting to spend a pleasant day. They were here to eat breakfast. You try not to think too much about the fact that one single of their jewelry is equal to your salary.

The streets were alive; people running, cars honking. Your colleague hitting your shoulder to bring you back to earth, everything is normal.

"You think you can ask Mike to make another one ? she asks you with a sweet voice. The kid threw a tantrum. It's not salted enough and he hates sausages.

You lift up your eyes towards the crying kid in the back. Cold eyes stuck to his face. You're sure he specifically asked for sausage. You're the one who wrote down his order. And the salt ? Can't he just fucking put some himself?

-Don't question it. They're regulars. Plus, I don't think having beef with a kid is good for our reputation." Tells you your friend after seeing the death look you were giving him.

So you take the plate that looked absolutely perfect and delectable to bring it to Mike. Mike is an old man once passionate about cooking. Now he's forty three and stuck cooking eggs and toast to some crying kids.

"No fucking sausage and more salt please. you say, throwing the plate on the counter in a loud clatter. The man laughs at your anger and don't even need to ask to understand. 'Got it boss !' is your answer.

You lay your weight on the counter, back meeting the freezing temperature of it. Different smells invade your senses; fresh bread, warm oil and eggs. Well, lot of different smells were here as well but they're the one that really stuck out to you.

"You were late this morning right ? Did the client touched their plate ? You can eat it otherwise, it looks fine.

-Because it is, it was made by the best cook of Gotham after all.

The man laughs, mimicking someone blushing by putting his hands on his cheeks. He tells you that you're lying and that you're saying that to flatter him only. Mike had buzzed his hair a few months ago but they were back already; small rough curls mocking him.

You sigh and look back at the plate, it did look really fine. The kid hadn't even touched it ! The eggs and the bread were intact, left in the same state it was neatly put in earlier.

You spend your sweet time talking with Mike before your boss comes in infuriated, ordering you to come back at the front. And you're forced to do so. Grabbing a water jug on your way and putting on a fake smile, you walk towards a new family sitting so straight your back hurts just looking at them.

All of them laid down their menu and are waiting. You arrive, apologizing for the wait. 'Have you decided ?' you ask while putting the water on the table. The man takes the menu and start listing his orders without a smile nor even a look in your direction. The woman is busy keeping her children calm and asking them to calm down. The other tables are side-eyeing her while the husband doesn't even acknowledge his wife.

"Noted, you smile and turn your head to stare at the woman for her to start ordering.

She smiles awkwardly, and tells you her kids orders before ordering for herself. You thank them, "I'll be right back." and you leave to the kitchen. You sigh, scotch the orders on the wall, grabs the plate left for you to take and head back to the crying kid from earlier. The demon who ordered fucking sausage before saying he hated them.

But as soon as you place the plate before him with a smile, the kid slams his fists on the table resulting in his glass of water to splash on you and break on the floor. The mother gasps while the dad gives a slap in his son's head without even you registering the whole situation. Your clothes are completely soaked, you want to say something but his mother is sending daggers at you with her eyes and you know not to mess with this stupid fucking family.

Did he did it on purpose ? Yes. Are you gonna say something ? No.

"It's okay, I love children." you don't.

And you leave. Deeply humiliated. But you can't do anything. Because you're no one compared to them, they're gonna win. Always. Your friend asks if you're okay, you shrug. She's unable to question you further as she has to continue working. You head to the back in search of a broom.

The small closet is all the way behind the kitchen and you're already tired just thinking about it. Once you're in, you frenetically search for your item only for a shelf to fall apart behind you and destroy itself on the ground. You bite your lower lip with all your strength to retain you from crying and cursing the whole world.

It's okay, it's just a shelf. It's okay, you try to think but it's hard when it's not even noon and too much shit already happened to you.

You crouch down and start gathering everything you can when your eyes falls upon another one of these poker card. You frown and take it in your hands, examining it deeply. Uh, wow, okay. It's a little weird. You just happen to receive these daily in your mailbox and suddenly there's one here. Okay, totally normal.

You stand up, looking around you for an answer, trying to see if a camera is here somewhere. But nothing. So you turn the card to read the new message: You need one to live, I often rip it apart and yours is mine to steal. A heart ? you immediately think. You definitely need one to live and the sentence 'steal your heart' is kinda famous. But rip it apart ? Is it, like, a metaphor ? Glancing back quickly, you notice a small note left in the bottom right corner of the card. It reads: what a shitty shelf.

You laugh nervously, your breath getting stuck in your throat. What the actual fuck ? it's not even funny, what the hell ? Sorry for the fucking shelf ? They knew this was going to happen ? You definitely have to talk to someone.

You pass your hand on your face, rubbing it strongly as if to wake you up from a bad dream. Then you take the broom and head back.

Rushing to the kitchen, you accidentally pushes someone in your haste. You see Mike from afar and don't even need to approach him that you yell your question for everyone to hear:

"Mike, do you happen to play poker ?" the man faces you, his confused expression told it all, he didn't. And from the other's cook faces, they probably all thought that you were crazy. None of them looking guilty. But you'll investigate that later.

Not wasting any seconds, you almost run to the main room to find your friend. Luckily for you, she's cleaning glasses at the bar.

"Hey, is it yours ?" you're a little out of breath when showing her the joker card. Your friend simply shakes her head. When you asked her if she knew if one of your colleagues was playing poker, she shrugged and told you she didn't know with an apologetic smile.

"Why ? she asks.

-It's complicated." you say.

It can't be from the same person, right ? If it is anyway, that probably means one of your colleagues is the one putting these at your place. Which is a terrifying idea because you sure never gave your address to anyone here. Trying to see the bright side of it all, that means that you may know your 'joker'. And if that's the case, there's a way for you to stop them. It's better than the cards coming from a total stranger, because you can't act against them. You'll probably leave some clues at work to see and trap your joker.

The rest of the day was terribly hard. You were dying from the inside. Your tummy was growling like a beast; you did not have the time to eat. As you're juggling between two jobs, your boss thought that he had to exploit you as much as he could before you left. Because you're joining the bar, your second working place, at two pm.

"You're gonna leave in the middle of the day, when most people are coming. I'm losing money here, you see ?" he had said to you that day. Yeah, he does not give you any breaks because to him, you don't need one as you leave earlier. Of course you tried to negotiate and he was agreeing with you, on the condition that he pays you less.

"Mike, I'm leaving. you tell him, taking off your apron. Have a nice day, say hi to your kids for me." he smiles warmly to you, wave and you're out of the room in a quarter of seconds. You already bid goodbye to your friend so all you had to do now was to leave.

Putting on your jacket, your thoughts can't stop but think back about this other card you found. Yours is mine to steal. In what sense ? You could've thought it was some creepy flirting but it's just too much. You found these at home, at work. Everywhere. Are they going to rip your heart apart, too ? Are these threats ?

Hopping in the bus, you try to stay away from Gotham's crackhead as much as possible but it's hard when they're drunk and staring at you like they want to beat the shit out of you.

Fortunately, your stop arrives and you hurry to get out. It's 2:36 PM (14:36), the bar is not open yet but cleaning and organizing everything is part of your contract.

It's at five pm (17h) that you open the bar, standing behind your counter and waiting patiently for clients to arrive. You're happy Sean is here. He's a big man of 2m3 (~6'8), practices combat sport and knows how to handle different weapons. In a neighborhood like this, you're more than grateful to have him.

He's also the son of the owner. So it's really just the two of you here. The first persons starts entering the place and it quickly fills up entirely. It's quite a famous area, cops never comes here as mobs are doing their own laws. Sean puts on some background music you can't even hear anymore over the loud voices of the men laughing cavernously.

You're busy serving people's drinks. Moving as fast as you could but it being hard when your thoughts are plagued by cards and your mind is not here. Who's this joker man ?

The street lamp are all finally on, meaning it was past seven already. You didn't even see time pass, the incessant flirting and bickering of the men here enough to keep you from being alone with your thoughts.

"Thanks baby." says a young man when you give him his beer. He has a really bad scar going from his forehead to his lower lip. It's no surprise, you saw men with less limbs, other talking unknowns languages, some with sight or hearing completely lost. Sometimes normal people like you would come, women even but more rarely as the men here were true animals.

You wonder what type of people there is with you tonight. You're not naive enough to think all of them are innocent, in fact, you're sure 85% of your client here are criminals. This bar is situated apart from the city, in a corner more secluded with abandoned looking buildings and scary dark alleys you certainly don't want to visit at night, or even at day for that matter.

This place sucks.

Honestly, with your cards problem, you even considered engaging a spy to see who put these creepy notes in your mailbox. But two things prevented you to do so; first, you do not want to do business with criminals, second; there was a chance that your joker was one of your client.

Some of your clients here probably have mental illness as well, worsening their state. And maybe someone fixated on you and decided to follow you home. It'd be really awkward to engage a man to scare your joker away, only for him to be the same person you're trying to avoid.

But now this idea starts to disappear. You found a card at work after all, your boss is not stupid enough to let anyone break in. So the criminal track wasn't the one. It's one of your colleagues. There's just no way one of the bar's client could have followed you home and at the restaurant.

But on the other hand, it's difficult to see one of your colleagues following you home too. Because after working at the restaurant, you're not heading home right away. You're working here. Is it possible they waited outside until you finished ?

"A whisky for me." is what tears you away from your misery.

You do not look up, instead turning your back to him and reaching the shelves to search for the bottle. You grab a glass, throwing ice cubes in it and pouring the harsh liquid in. You then slide it to him, he nods and drink a first long gulp.

You follow his arm to his face before blocking on it. It's a man with a skin so pale it's getting worrying. His eye bag are terribly dark that you thought he had put black eye-shadow on them. And for a second, you truly thought it was the case. He had really bad scars going from each corner of his lips up to his cheeks, like a badly drawn smile. In the small crevices of his scarred skin, there was faint white and red paint, or make-up that did not left during shower. Is he like, a mime or a clown ? He looks like he haven't showered for a while, no judgements or anything, but his green hair are greasy.

He continues to savor his drink quietly while you're here, astonished by such weird scars. You saw scars, a lot of them. But they all looked accidental, caused by self defense or anything. But his clearly looked volunteer. You could clearly see that the goal was to create some sick form of smile, whether it is successful or not. What the hell happened to this guy ? Has he been tortured ? Did he make these to himself ?

'You got some nasty scars' you want to say. But the wicked grin he gives you is enough to make you gulp and smile awkwardly. Of course he saw you looking at him, you did not move an inch/millimeters. And he does not look like the type of guy to be nice.

"D'you like them ?

-Sorry ? you blinked.

-My scars. Do you like them ?

-Uh, yeah, yeah.

Fucking creepy. What the hell ? What did he do to have those ? Why is he even asking you this ? Why is he looking at you like that ?

-Do you want to know how I got them ?

-No." you answer at the mere second he ended his question, by pure fear he was going to destroy you. Or try to recreate those scars on you. Hey, you never know.

The man grins and chuckles at the quickness of your answer and stops talking for a while. Did you just escape death ? You think so.

He stopped drinking, though. You try to look busy but you're just organizing and disorganizing things on loop. Sean is having the time of his life chatting with the clients towards the tables area. But you, you're stuck behind the counter. You can't even count the times you got your ass slapped or got whistled. Plus, some of these guys often try to threaten you with knifes to make you give them free drinks.

It could've work if Sean wasn't here.

But it's comical in a sense. The morning, you're busy being the little dog, the little slave of these stuck rich people crying when their plate arrives one minute late, with prices on the menu so high it's clearly a scam for some eggs and bacon. With a ground so perfectly clean you could lick it.

And at night, you're here. Surrounded by criminals, drunkards and God knows who. With bad music taste rumbling in the background and place so dirty you could throw up and not even see it through the trash lingering on the ground. Well, in your defense, because you're the one cleaning, it was clean before. But everyone arrives with their disgusting shoes or bleeding and then they spill their drinks, and they fight and, yeah. At the end of the day, this place is a mess.

Your back is still facing the mime guy but you know he's staring at you. You know it because you can't stop shuddering. Your works are sure keeping you in touch with reality at least, you've seen both extreme.

"What's your name ?" You face him, afraid to offend this weirdo.

Telling him your name out of all the people ? Never. Smiling the best you can, you tell him your coworker name from the restaurant. He grins like a Cheshire cat, his smile accentuated by his prominent scars, nodding. You know better than to ask him back his name, he's probably, surely, a criminal. You don't have a death wish at the moment. You usually don't like to lie but this job at the bar taught you better.

-You know, he starts again and you pray he does not start to harass you with questions, he licks his lower lip before continuing. There's one thing I truly hate in this world. He pauses. You wanna know what ?

-Tell me. You say reluctantly, not wanting to anger him.

He lays one of his elbows on the counter, raising a brow and looking around him as if going to tell you a secret he wants no one else but you to know. Then, he looks at you again, a mysterious glint in his eyes.

-Liars.

Oh.

-They're such... he squints his eyes, moving his hand in the air to the flow of his thoughts. Vicious, little bitch, you know ? If we want to change things, he licks his lips, they're the first people that have to go. Don't you think ?

-Yes, I'm with you on that. you hurry to answer, nodding frenetically, feeling your blood run cold and a sweat cross your spine. Myself I really can't stand lying, you know ? Liars are really bad, they're manipulative and all. you were just trying to save your ass at this point. You received a lot of threats in your life, but this man right here ? There was something deeply wrong with him. He was fucking traumatizing you. You did not want to mess with him.

The only thing plaguing your thoughts is; does he know ? Does he know you lied about your name ? Because he specifically asked this question right after you presented yourself. Does he know ? No, no he doesn't. How is he supposed to know you ? You don't even have any name tag on.

The man chuckles deeply before you, licking very briefly his lips again; is that a tic ?

-What's his name ? he asks, looking straight to Sean, as if judging his soul. Does he have to stare at people like he wants to kill them all the time ?

Now you understand. He scared the shit out of you to ensure you wouldn't be lying to him. And now he's testing you. Why, you don't know. But you answer honestly this time. He smiles mischievously. Maybe that wasn't even his plan, maybe he's just deeply weird and unsettling. Maybe he doesn't even know you ever lied to him. Maybe you see things where there's none.

If there's one thing Gotham has taught you, it's to be wary of everyone.

-Are you fucking him ? he asks again, still looking at Sean laughing with the others.

-Why ? this thought never even crossed your mind before. Why would you fuck Sean ? He's nice, he's good looking but, you don't know, you wouldn't fuck him. You just, don't want to ? He's a friend.

-He's quite the tall guy. Are you fucking him ? he insists, ignoring completely your question.

Wow, that is getting incredibly uncomfortable and personal. You know you're supposed to entertain them and all but damn, this guy is killing you. You throw a glance in Sean's direction, hoping to catch his attention so he could help you but he's busy laughing with other clients.

-Why're looking at him ? I'm the one talking.

-I don't think this is appropriate, Sir. It's quite the personal questions you're asking me here. you laugh nervously, hoping to relax the mood but the man before you doesn't even react. Can I maybe offer you another drink ? It'll help...

-You got something to hide ? he licks his lips.

What. The. Fuck.

-I have to stay mysterious in order for you to come back, right ? you do not want this weirdo to come back, but that's the default sentence you usually say to avoid answering intimate questions.

But the make-up man does not insist, he gives you a cheeky grin.

-You want me to come back ? How flattering.

Most of the time, what you implies when saying this is that you want them to come back to consume more, so you have more money because you're kinda the bartender of this place. But this guy just plainly wants to fuck you up. Where's Sean when you need him the most ?

It's like no one around you is seeing you. They're all drinking their sadness, trauma, day away, not caring that a creepy guy is keeping you in his weird conversation you clearly do not want to participate in.

-Do you want to play a game with me ?

-I'm... Quite busy, actually. So...

But he knows you, now. He knows you're a bad little liar. Listening to you is now optional to him; he clearly doesn't care. The man stands up and you start to get scared. What is he going to do ? Is he going to hurt you ? Your hand is holding firmly the bat under the counter, fingers shaking with adrenaline. You never used a weapon before, less against someone. You never hurt someone, intentionally at least.

Sean, move your ass over here, now.

The man grins, eyes trailing your arms. He knows you're hiding something under this counter, but can he blame you ? You're surrounded by criminals, he's one himself ! It's impossible to know what to expect. Honestly, you're ready to scream to get attention and get helped. Even if there's high possibilities for a general fighting to start resulting in this poor bar to be destroyed.

But the man does not try to hurt you, he smiles, put his hands in his pocket and you now realize how well he's dressed for someone like him. A nice and well maintained purple suit.

"It makes me live and follow you at dark, keeps me up at night and makes you fall apart."

No...

-Who am I ?" He ends slowly, torturing you.

Your shoulders slouched down, tension leaving your hand on the bat. Your body become a big, useless puddle. Eyes as big as owl ones.

"I-I don't want to play. Your stutter had gave away your uneasy feeling, you step back, eyeing this man from head to toe.

You've come to despise those damn riddles. You don't want to hear more of them.

-But this one's so simple sweetheart. He mocks you. It starts with a pretty little O and ends with a N. I'm sure you'll find out.

You shake your head slowly; no, it's not simple, no, you don't want to find out, no, you don't fucking want to listen to him. But he simply chuckles, relatively amused by such a big reaction. Well, with that kind of huge revelation, you can't quite control yourself.

He's rummaging through his pocket, heart almost leaving you. What is he searching for ? A weapon ? What is he thinking ? But against all odds, the joker man takes out something so small you can't even see it behind his palm. You know he's doing it on purpose, hiding it from you to destroy you more, to see the look of surprise, fear or shock, or... Whatever, on your face.

-That's my business card, as a little... Reminder." You deeply doubt someone like him own any business, less business card. So what is he going to give you ?

He lays gently his hand on the counter right before you, not letting you see what he was hiding until he removed completely his hand, confirming your theory of him hiding it on purpose. You'd recognize them anytime. Your heart is beating faster, so fast you're scared it might explode. Nothing is written on the side you're staring at, you grab the cardboard, praying that it's just a crazy coincidence even if the drawing of the joker smiling stupidly on the card is taunting you.

But when you turn the card, the answer is given to you. For the first time since you've started to receive these.

-Obsession." you sigh, breath getting stuck in your throat. You were petrified. "You're... You're the joker man." you say in a shaky voice. Was it finally him ? Answers, you needed answers. But when you looked up, the man had disappeared. Leaving you with nothing but deep fear.

Silent tears slide on your cheeks, you bring your hand to your mouth in order to hide your muffles. Looking back at the card, you feel your legs give up under you when your real name is written in bold black letters in a bottom corner. Bile is rushing to your throat.

It's him. He's the one sending you these.

But you don't know him. You don't fucking know this man. And he's a criminal. You're fucked. Smiling like a madman, you start to laugh nervously, not realizing the situation. It's a joke, right ? You cough, progressively choking on your saliva. You bite your lower lip so hard it starts bleeding. You pray, you pray so hard this man isn't your stalker but you're lying to yourself. It's literally the worst case scenario that could happen.

You've never seen this man in your entire fucking life. Where does he even come from ? Why you ? Why him ? With his fucking creepy scars and fucking riddles. He knows your address ! Your name ! What else does he know ?

"You okay there ?" You nod without even looking at the person talking to you. You choke out a quick answer before rushing to the back towards the private toilet.

Immediately collapsing to the ground, you throw up everything you had in you, which wasn't a lot to begin with. You barely even ate anything. But you can't stop. You empty yourself, only vomiting water.

Sean finally comes get you, he rubs your back and help you get up. "What happened ?" He asks you.

"I don't fucking know." Is the only thing you can muster.

What you do know however, is that you're scared to go home.

"Are you heading home tonight ?" You ask him, voice hoarse. "Well, yeah" is his answer. So you asked him, begged him to come with you. Because you were horrified by the mere idea of going home alone. Maybe he would be here.

"You can come to mine if ya want." he offers. And you think that the guy from yesterday probably was right, you were weird. Why aren't you going to the cops, after all ? Probably because they'll think you're lying, that you're insane. A joker ? Harassing you with riddles ? You'll end up in a asylum in no time.

But wouldn't you be safer in a asylum ?

When Sean and you closed the bar, it was already well past one am. You didn't had the strength to redo this all over again tomorrow. But Sean was of good company, cheering you up and trying to ease your mind. Multiples times he tried to ask what was wrong, but he guessed it alone. "Was it that weird customer in purple ? The one with the suit ? I saw him lingering a really long time at the counter." You shrugged when he said that, completely worn out. What could he even do against him anyway ? The Joker man wasn't known to any of you. It was a lost cause.

Chatting with your friends wasn't even crossing your mind, you were terrified. The long walk to his apartment was as quiet as a church. What the fuck were you going to do now ? You were dead, yes, you were just dead at this point. What can you even do against some psycho following you around ? Fight back ? Yeah, if you have a death wish. You have to get out of this city, there's no other plan. But how ? And to go where ?

"We're here." says Sean. You've never been to his apartment's before, and to be honest, you would have preferred for it to happen in other circumstances. Trying to escape a criminal wasn't in this year plan.

Before you stood a tumbledown grey building, not much different from yours in reality. After all, Sean's not that rich, he's payed like you and live with his dad's payment. Though, you're pleasantly surprised to see the coziness of his place.

Warm lights were turned on, his sofa looked quite mellow and the general smell of the apartment was lovely. Not that you're judging him, but you wouldn't have thought he was such a clean guy. Because he's like, well, some kind of mafia man. So, yeah, he often smells like sweat and dirt himself, it's a surprise his place is so neat. Sure, it's damaged by humidity then and there, there's cracks in the walls but so do yours. The paint is peeling in some areas as well, you're used to it enough to not notice it. You take off your shoes, but keep your jacket. Probably in search of a safe feeling, maybe by fear of being vulnerable.

"You can sit on the couch, I'll order something.

You don't even have the will to eat right now, the ugly feeling everything entering your body might be threw back out instantly bothering you too much. However, you did sit on the couch. It smelt like him; you hated it. You were violating his property, his intimacy. You shouldn't be here.

But do you really have a choice ?

Sean is talking in the background, on the phone, yet, not a single word is understood by you. It's like he's speaking a whole new language. The red flowers on his TV stand keeps reminding you of the joker's card and his damn hat.

He hung up, that you heard, and left for another room. You hate to bother him, he probably only wanted to go home and sleep after a hard day but you messed up his plans. Grabbing the remote, you turn on the TV to empty your mind. You search for series, documentary or cartoons, only to be disappointed at the sight of obnoxious ads.

You end up watching the news, it being the sole channel not drowned in ads. A woman is speaking in a professional neutral voice, wearing a white shirt. She talks about the inflation killing our country before going onto her next subject; the outgrowing insecurity. The two preoccupation of the government, or at least, what they want you all to think about.

From what she says, a hold-up happened in a bank yesterday, in plain sight. (Why do they talk about it now, you don't now.) The building stank laughing gas. Only one man declares having seen the main suspect. Her chair slides to the side, leaving space for the video to appear and for the victim to testify; "Green disgusting hair and some fucked up clown make-up. That's the only thing I saw. He has no value, I'm telling you, criminals used to believe in things ! He has no respect for anyone, he killed his own team ! He's gonna come back for me, I'm sure of..." and he's erased from the screen at his outburst, for everyone to forget his trauma.

Did he say clown ?

"Indeed, the woman vigorously resumes, a faint smile on, was she laughing at the victim ? green hair and clown make-up is on brand today as everyone only talks about this mysterious criminal. After disappearing for months, the troublemaker is back in town and seems unstoppable. But has he truly ever gone away ?

It's not the same man, right ? No, no of course not. If he's a famous criminal, he has better things to do than harass insignificant useless civilians like you with stupid riddles. He robbed a bank ! Why would he even look in your direction? Fuck, what if he thinks you have some kind information? What if he think you're related to a criminal ? What if you are ?

-He calls himself Joker, always wears his clown make up and has a habit of wandering at night." The woman straightens her posture and clasps her hands together. "After yesterday's fiasco, the famous criminal already perpetrated his next attack. Earlier, at noon, the biggest hospital of the city was targeted. Cops were able to evacuate everyone urgently. Gotham is in shamble, people are afraid and angry. The police is trying to calm the crowds, in vain." Images are shown behind her of people running, yelling, stretchers evacuating and flashing cops car during her speech.

She continues talking but you stopped listening when finally a picture of the Joker was displayed on the screen, his face horrifyingly reminding you something. Too many information are going to your brain in so little time. You try to rationalize everything but it's hard when your mind is too tired to cooperate.

He's called the Joker. And you happen to receive joker cards. He wears make up. The man at the bar looked like he did. Hyperventilating is the only thing seemingly still possible from your body. You stand up, inking, sinking, learning, engraving his face to memory.

Two big scars, both going from each corner of his mouth to his cheeks.

Like a badly drawn smile.

"Sean !" you call. Your friend runs out of the bathroom, disheveled, shirt loose and no pants, only in underwear. He rushed out, scared something had happened. Your shaking pointer aim at the TV screen, at the face of the man on it. "It's him. He was at the bar."

When Sean looks at the man, a chill runs down his spine. He understands what might have happened earlier. He could see the purple suit the man had on on the picture, which was the exact same one he saw at the bar. Fuck, it is the same man. He knows the Joker, hell, everyone knows him here.

And that's bad news.

He's everywhere in everyone business. He has no sense of loyalty whatsoever, killing even his best allies and no one has the slightest clue what he wants. At the bar, he probably scared the shit out of you, he probably threatened you, too. Why, it's impossible to know. He's quite the unpredictable.

-Don't worry, he says, he probably forgot about you already. He's a scary man, likes to shock people a little. He always attack for a reason and you're not a criminal, so you're good."

But you couldn't believe it. He does not have all the information. He doesn't know about the tons of cards you received until now. Eyes completely stuck to the screen, you observe the face before you, knowing you probably wouldn't be able to escape him.

Somehow, this emission confirmed to you that he was real, that you weren't dreaming. And that you really were in it deeply.

Sean insists you shower to relax a little bit, you're holding onto the remote for dear life, nails digging in your palm. When in the bathroom, your eyes automatically gravitates towards the mirror, discovering your new face scarred by sleepless nights and cries. You're almost scared of your reflection. Sighing, your hands find themselves in your pockets alone but you're startled by the coldness they are greeted with. What have you in your pocket that is freezing like that ?

Your unease comes back in a rush when you take out another one of these cards from your jacket. Are you for real going crazy ? What is going on ? When did this get here ? How did it get here ? It's your damn jacket ! You had it in the work closet all day !

You're tired and doing this little fucked up game is not doing any good. A greasy almost wiped red is the first thing you see, his lips, you guess. He wears some kind of paint as lip stick, he fucking kissed the card, creepy bastard.

Turning the stiff paper, your eyes meet once again one of these painful riddle.

"I'm everywhere, you can't escape me and I'm coming for you. Who am I ?" tears slide quietly on your cheeks, the only sane reaction your emotionless state can give. You're not even moving, eyes staying fixated on the card; the tears are just physical. Body exhausted from it all. What is this now ? You know he's not talking about an object anymore, he's talking about himself. It's not riddles, it's threats. He's coming for you, what is he going to do ? Kill you ? Torture you, or worse ?

The shower did nothing to ease your nerves, you've never been so tensed in your life. What could you even do against this man ?

When Sean called you to eat, you let him know you weren't feeling the slightest hunger. He said nothing, simply keeping a plate for you on the kitchen counter.

You did not even blink an eye that night, paranoid at the slightest noise, a knife slept cautiously under your cushion. The windows and doors were completely shut and you would have loved to do the very same thing to your brain. You fell asleep, eventually, when you should have been up.

Sean was still asleep when you awoke the next day. You were late, and terribly so, the clicking clock on the wall warning you. It was already way past nine. You don't like to leave his house without even thanking him for his hospitality once again. But you'll see him tonight, at the bar. You'll probably have to quit, though. Not yet, as you have to secure another job. You can't risk being here without money, after all. Joker knows where you work at, no way you're staying more than necessary. But... he has to know about your restaurant job too, somehow.

You had a card in the closet, with his stupid shelf trap, after all.

You're safer there, maybe. It's quite the chic area. There's camera, people. Socialites are here, nobody attacks socialites. Usually, at least. Doubts subsists, the journalist on the TV affirmed the Joker attacked in the middle of the day, in plain sight. Would he attack the rich ? They're untouchable, their lawyer always know what to do and they know everyone. You can't kill a famous advocate, right ? It's like attacking the mayor. Remembering his face, you keep the unsettling impression he could kill anyone.

Fuck.

You take a piece of paper, write a few words on it, scotch it on the fridge and leave, dashing outside to not worsen your lateness. You were dead, oh you were so dead. Late couldn't even describe your situation by now. You boss was going to kill you, de-materialize you and send you in another world.

You ran until your legs couldn't support you anymore, people were side-eyeing you in the streets. Certainly thinking of you as some kind of thief or at the very least a criminal of some sort.

Jumping in the nearest bus, your legs being too weak to support you anymore, you finally arrive at your workplace ten minutes later. It was quarter to ten.

You're breathless, rushing once again to the rear of the restaurant. You push the back door open but to your surprise, it won't budge. What ? The guys never lock the door that early in the morning, they know you'll arrive, eventually. You knock a few times, knowing you had the key anyway but if someone was passing by inside, it would be quicker.

You don't have to wait that long as your boss himself is the one opening it for you, as if waiting beside it until your entry. He probably was. He crosses his arms on his chest, eyes glaring holes in you. Damn, you'll have to fight with him, again. You promised him you wouldn't be late anymore, he will never trust you again.

Well, it's not like he trusted you much before to begin with.

"Listen, I'm terribly sorry I'm late but... he scoffs.

-As If that was the only problem ! The man tightens his jaw, talking between his teeth. He approaches his head to yours, almost colliding your forehead together; he talks lowly, scared to be heard. You know damn well what's wrong.

Wow, okay. You were not expecting his reaction to be that dramatic. You're just (incredibly) late. It's not new. What's gotten into him ? You squint your eyes, at a loss of words.

-I was just... You start, ready to recite him once again your preposterous apologies.

-I don't give a fuck about you being late, he cracks, get out of here now ! You are not to put a single of your foot in this restaurant anymore ! You're gonna scare my customers ! In the process, a postilion left its house to attack your cheek. You cringe, immediately wiping it with your sleeve, shuddering in disgust.

-What ?

-What, what, he mimics you with a grimace and a weird voice, Get out of here ! He articulates each words slowly as if you were a foreigner, except his tone was harsh and firm. Haven't you seen the news ? If they hear a criminal is working here, I'm screwed.

-A criminal ? But I'm not... I'm, what the hell ? I'm not a criminal Tony.

-Yeah, yeah, and I'm rich ! Get the fuck out of here or at least, do me a favor and let me turn you in to the police." his face changes to disdain, suddenly thoroughly repelled by your being. "Man, you have to be some dirty criminal to have 600 000$ put on your face. What kind of shit have you done, huh ?

Six fucking what ?

-Uh, listen, I think there's some kind of misunderstanding here. I'm no criminal and I'm definitely not worth that much money.

Hell, in all your life, you did not even earn that much money !

-Hey, his tone changed to deviously adopt one sweeter. I don't want any problems okay ? With you, the cops or whoever is fucking wanting you dead. I'm an honest citizen.

What a hypocrite, he was literally yelling at you seconds ago.

You frown, trying to even understand what he's implying. You scratch your cheek, eyeing him from head to toe. He's in a tux, like always. He never do shit here, settling for bossing everyone around while trying to make you believe he's an irreplaceable element in the team.

Judging by his eyes, he is not kidding.

Is he for real firing you ? Just like that ? For some imaginary story he just made up ? Jobless, you will be jobless. He is firing you. A nervous chuckles escapes you, earning you a raise of the brow from Tony. No, oh no no ! You have this job, you did nothing wrong ! Life is already more shitty than it ever been ! Stalker, debts, fucking serial killer wanting your ass and now you lost your main job ? No, that won't do.

You were already planning to leave the bar, how are you supposed to find back two jobs ? One already was an ordeal.

-Honest citizen ? Are you blind ? You were more so than him at the moment. You don't even have an ounce of honesty in your fucking body ! Are you even aware of everything I did for this shitty place ? You can't fire me and you won't because no one else want to be your fucking slave ! Your job is slavery ! I don't want to be some kind of toy you throw away after you've had enough fun with it !

Tony was outraged you could talk to him like that. He was similar to a bourgeois in the eighteenth century, acting shocked after being the most gruesome person alive, putting his hand displayed on his chest and playing innocent.

-Me ? You should be honored to even be working ! You never understand, do you ? You are wanted, that's it ! There's nothing more, nothing less. You are fired. I am not hiring trash.

You hope the worst criminal of this town gets you, right here, for his fucking ugly disgusting restaurant to be destroyed to the very last crumbs. You'll use his body as a human shield while you're at it, after all, what else can he be useful for ?

Your body is boiling like lava. Hitting, jumping, crying, you don't know what you want, need, to do to externalize all of these toxic feelings. Never in your life have you felt more used, humiliated.

You knew he was an asshole, of course. Everyone does, but hell he fired you ! After years of being his toy !

You understand why people in Gotham are crazy. You understand why they suddenly breakdown and fall into crime. Their life, just like yours, was wasted by some self centered prick like him. Some self centered prick who are not even much richer than you, but think they will be when disrespecting you.

Your face isn't even warm, it's seething.

Your life is flashing before you, old friend, family, home, Mike. You won't even be able to pay your rent ! Of course chaos would be loved in a city where trash rules. Why the manifestation are so violent, why insecurity and banditry are prominent ? Because everyone is tired but nobody is listening. Because nobody wants to talk, they think they're at the top of the food chain.

And he won't change his mind. You're fired, that's all. Nothing can alters his decision. It's too late. He probably just created some poor excuses to get you out, you know it. Because you're not a criminal, and no one is giving away 600 000$ for your ass; he's lying. It's too farfetched.

You muster the calmest voice you can get while in such a boiling state, and God knows how hard it is. Wasting more time here is useless, he'll pay but not now, and not by you. You have a new problem: you need to find a job.

-Why don't you kill yourself, Tony ? Right now ? your eyes were empty against his outraged ones. That's why your wife left you, by the way. That's why she left you and took your damn kids. You don't even deserve to live, really, kill yourself, jump, it'll be better for everyone."

You shrug and turn away to never come back. You really hope he disappears forever.

And without anything else to do with your day, you went back home, body functioning by its own. With no diploma and no driving license, how were you supposed to find a job ? You had little experience, mostly having worked in little jobs everywhere. Cashiers, cleaner, babysitting, gardener (you really just cut bushes and mowed the lawn), security guard, fuck, you did it all. Plus, you have a second job and companies hate to arrange their schedules according to yours, in their point of view, you're the desperate one, you should manage your life.

It was safer to wander in Gotham now, the sun was bright in the sky. It was a clear day, really pretty. A shame you couldn't enjoy it.

You open the always creaking door of the building, feeling the freezing temperature inside. Truly a mystery, though a benediction in the hottest summer. A night out and it's like you already don't know this place anymore. You stand in the middle of the hall, staring at each crack in the walls, each suspicious stains, inhaling the disgusting smell emanating from it all.

Yeah, you hate this place.

Sighing and rubbing your tensed shoulders, you approach your mailbox. Opening it, you're pleasantly surprised when no cards is in sight. Maybe he finally got bored ? Your reaction back at the bar probably wasn't what he expected, not satisfying enough so he gave up. You hope so.

What's inside however is a A4 white sheet folded in two. Thinking a neighbor might have wanted to contact you, you open the paper. Yet, on it, the photo of your identity card in huge format, above it, your whole legal name with just below a price, written 'wanted' for treason. A chill run down your spine.

Okay, that is not funny. What the hell ? Did Tony did that ? If yes, how and why ? You pass your hand on your face, harshly rubbing your eyelids to wake you up. This is a joke, everything's a joke.

An echo brings you back on earth when someone goes down the stairs, upon seeing you, your neighbor halts. You offer him a tight lip smile out of pure politeness, which is a an act he does not even try to imitates as he eyes you as if seeing an animal. Do you look that bad ?

Awkwardly, you shift your weight on your feet to ease the tension growing in you. Why is he still looking at you ? The man, even though you were already well far away from him, distances himself and instead of going straight to the door to leave, bothers to make a detour in order to skirt you completely, without daring to approach a millimeter. Does he think you're going to bite, or what ? You two have talked in the past, briefly sure, but still. Fuck, his behaviour does not comfort you one bit.

When the door shut, you're left standing alone once again.

Things are definitely going in a direction you don't appreciate, you may need to hurry up before something really bad happens. Your hand fetches your phone in your back pocket, calling Sean. When he answers, he does not even bother to greet you.

"You okay? You left really early. You're at work ?

-I got fired, long story. I really need your help, again. I'm truly sorry I myself don't quite understand what's going on and... you stop your ranting, breathless and a lump in throat.

-It's okay, really. I don't mind. Tell me everything, how did you get fired ? Why ?

You called him for several reasons. The first being that he's kind of the only friend you have. The second being that Sean's family know people. They're all criminal at different degrees, whether it is gang leader, small thief or hitman. He's the only one actively trying to live an honest life.

-It's complicated and I'm still pissed about it. you tell him seriously, walking in circles in the hall. I have a question and I really need your answer.

-Not stressing at all. He tries to ease the mood, in vain.

-Am I wanted ?

Sean doesn't answer for twenty seconds too much. His silence is starting to worry you, why isn't he saying anything ? Is he confused ? Does he know ? Please, may he not hide something from you. Wanting to distract yourself, you take the stairs to join your flat. Your fingers were creasing the paper sheet in your hand so hard you could have ripped it.

-In like, he finally starts with a strained voice, a personality kind of way ? Relationship ? He chuckles awkwardly while you frown. Well, no offense but uh, I don't think I am attracted to you, I like you but I wouldn't say I want you, you know ? But you shouldn't be insecure, you're a really great person you know, and I mean, you're not ugly so...

-Sean, what the fuck ? You finally cut him when it hit you that he wasn't answering. You were on the floor just below yours, wanting to walk and not quite go home for the moment.

-I'm sorry, was that mean ? That was definitely mean. He clears his throat. Listen, what I meant was...

-No Sean I'm not insecure, everything's fine. I did not mean... Argh ! You're in this kind of environment, you should know !

-What environment ...?

You want to pull at his hair and shake his head back and forth to punish him for being so stupid. Or maybe you were just not being clear, it was surely that. You were incredibly stressed. Traveling between the different floors or the building to stretch your legs.

-Like, criminals, mafia, I don't know. It's... You sigh, your anger dissipating when you realized you were being a little harsh to him. Weird things keep happening to me and I think I'm going crazy for thinking I may have a price on my head.

-Oh, wanted wanted. No because I thought... He coughs. Never mind. I can definitely tell you that. But honestly, odds are low. No offense but you have nothing to give to anyone. You don't have a lot of money. So I don't think anyone wants you.

Damn.

-Why do you think that anyway ? he asks.

Very briefly, you explain to him why Tony had fired you, still using the stairs and floors as a distraction. Of course, you then told him about the paper you found in your mailbox and the weird encounter with your neighbor.

-I'm just really fucking lost, Sean. I'm sorry, you've been nothing but nice to me and I keep snapping at you, I-I don't know what's going on.

-You're freaked out, it's normal. I don't blame you. I'll help you, send me the wanted poster you got. Maybe it's fake."

Of course, you tell him. You'd do pretty much anything to get out of this situation. You want it to be fake, but there's just an accumulation of bad things that tend to make you believe it's true. Looking around you, you notice to be on the last floor of the building. Flattening the paper sheet back, trying to erase all the creases, you lay it on the dirty floor of the hallways. You tear your phone away from your ear for a simple moment to take the picture. You press send.

You wait impatiently for him to say something, anything. But his reaction is clearly not the one you were waiting for:

-Oh fuck.

-What ? you panic, feeling your heart rises in your throat. What do you mean 'oh fuck' ? Sean ?" But the nauseating ringing of the call being cut short echoes in your ear.

He hung up.

You bite your lip, shutting your eyes as hard as you can. Your fingers find your closed lid, pressing on it as if calming an upcoming headache. What the fuck is going on exactly ? Why did he hang up ? Did you say something ? Did he see something ? You can't keep doing that, nobody answered any of your questions since this morning. You are tired.

You give up. You'll go back home, sleep a little. Research a job in the newspaper and hope for things to get better. Sighing, you walk the stairs once again, only this time to really move on.

Has everyone given up on you ? It feels like it, no one seems akin to want to help you. You never did any wrong to anyone. You always hold the door open to people, you give the few you have to homeless people in the streets. You payed what an old woman lacked in money for her groceries. You work everyday of the damn week, with no holidays.

What have you done ?

Sure, you're starting to break down, you told Tony to kill himself, you yelled at Sean. What the hell ? Never would you have done that in your life. What's happening ? It's getting scary out there, yet, no one's here for you to confide in.

You never should have left your hometown, you punished yourself.

The first thing you do once inside your home is falling head first on the couch. Feeling tears filling up your eyes. You don't fight them, letting them slide freely along your cheeks. After all, it's the good part of having a place to yourself, you get to cry alone in the safety of it.

You'll have to give it up, though. Without necessary money, you'll eventually need to move. Probably find a roommate and live in a red light district.

You spent the next hours trying to read classified ads, key word being 'trying' as your watery eyes didn't allow you to see much. And you ended up watching TV, like you always do. You couldn't fathom the idea of being that alone. When did it all go wrong ? Are you a horrible person ?

The news-woman kept talking and talking without stopping, saying the same things as yesterday and probably tomorrow as well. Inflation, criminality, inflation, criminality. Where were you in all of this ? What about the population ? Where were the solutions ? Is this city really stuck in a loop of chaos ?

The screen now displays a cop in a police station, sharing his feeling and impression about the improvement of the city. You don't listen to him, more struck by what's behind him: a poster on a cork board. Yours. It's your face, with the price, 'treason' shit and everything. The exact same poster you had in your mailbox. The situation is that bad, huh ? Your wanted poster is right next to The Joker one. Is there a link ? Are they hoping to find him after finding you ? They're wrong, then.

You wait, impatiently trying to decipher whether the policeman will talk about you or not. But he does not, so you lay back down on the couch. How does wanted people live freely ? You've been researched for a few hours and you're already going crazy with the feeling everyone's watching you.

Do you even know a criminal in this town ? Well, the only one you do know is Sean. You briefly meet them at the bar, as part of your job. Befriending them is not for you though, so you have no useful information to give the Joker. Then what does he want ?

The doorbell rings through the flat, screaming at you to get up and do something with your life. A chill run through your body, breath stopping for a second out of fear to be heard. For a while, you don't move. Who could it be anyway ? Surely bad news. Now that you're wanted, it could be anyone. But the rings echoes again, forcing you to get up. Slowly and as quietly as possible, you slide to the door. Eye staring through the peephole, you're surprised to discover Sean standing anxiously outside.

How did he get your address ?

Opening the different locks on your door, you however keep the small chain closing it. It wasn't much of a protection to be honest, but you needed to lie to yourself a little bit.

"You hung up on me. Is the only thing you say when your eyes meet.

-I know, I'm really sorry. Are you okay ?

-How did you get my address ? It's weird.

He explains to you how your information are given on your work file. You stand inside, judging him from head to toe. He welcomed you at his place, you have to be polite or you'll really look like an opportunistic. But it's hard when you don't know his exact thoughts.

-Why did you hang up ?

-I talked to my uncle, he has a bar in the center of Gotham. Every criminal goes there, he knows everything.

-And ?

-You're safe, it's false. You're not wanted. He... He didn't see your poster. So it was a bad joke. Silence, you don't believe him. I promise. You're not in danger.

Then why is your face plastered in all Gotham ? Is he completely sure about that information ? You hate to act this way but, it's too late for him to tell you that anyway. False or not, the poster of your head is everywhere. People will try to find you. The veracity of it all doesn't matter anymore.

Though you can't shake that uneasy feeling inside you alerting you of his lie. You saw your face on TV, in a police station. It's not nothing !

-How are you so sure ?

-I told you, you have nothing that could interest such a dangerous man as the Joker.

He's right, on the other hand, something's definitely wrong.

-What do we do, now ?

-You could let me in ? I want to help you but we can't talk if I stay outside.

Halfheartedly, you let him in. He thanks you, admires a few seconds his surroundings before plopping down on the couch. You stay standing even after closing the door shut, crossing your arms on your chest and awaiting his arguments.

Should you tell him you saw your face in a police station ? No, you need to know what he's going to tell you. He's lying, you know it now. But why ?

You thought he could be a friend, turn out you can't trust him that much. Or are you losing it ? Policemen are quite dumb here, they are completely capable of believing everything they see and considering they're desperate to catch the Joker; they could have took your poster as a track.

-What's your plan ? you ask.

-It depends on what you want.

Well, you want a lot of different things. Money, happiness, freedom, family, equality, peace. Right now though, one will be enough.

-I need a job, I can't pay my rent this month otherwise.

-That one's easy. He crosses his arms on his chest, sinking into the sofa cushions. Try ask your bank, they'll lend you some.

-No they won't Sean, I'm indebted. Seriously, did he really think life was this easy ? Did he really think you haven't thought of doing just that ?

He sighs and shrug, crossing his legs, he put his feet on the table. Your eyes are enough to tell him to put them back on the ground. He's a little bit too comfortable for your liking.

-It's these immigrants my friend. We lack money because of them.

What ?

-No, it's just poor distribution of resources. With the ongoing inflation and such, it has literally nothing to do with immigration. You frown, confusion lacing your tone, answering him as if asking a question, because what ? That was so out of pocket ? It's stupid to think like that, it's too easy to accuse others. They're as fucked as we are, you know ? Don't say that.

That's what Gotham thinks ? That each one of their problem is caused by others ? Industries, Government, Politics, they're the one causing all of this. How does someone get to this conclusion ? You thought Sean was good, hell, his family was poor. They survived thanks to drugs and banditry. He's bold to think immigrants are the problem: His family literally embezzles money.

-Jeez, calm down.

Well, it's difficult to be calm towards this kind of stupidity. But at least it keeps you in check, you know who he's voting for. Never trust anyone. It's true you don't know him that well, after all.

-You want my help or not ?

It's harder to see him in the same light as before after this, but if he's the only one willing to help, you can't waste this chance.

-Yeah. You sigh, ashamed with yourself. I need people to forget about me.

-Good, meet me at the back of the bar at the end of our shift. He's not waiting for an answer as he gets up to leave.

-Wow. No ?

He stops in his tracks as you block his way.

-What do you mean, 'no' ?

Is he serious ? With everything you risk ? Criminals at the bar know you, hell, some of them see you every night. No, you are not joining him in the dark in a creepy alley late at night when people want you dead. Also, you need to think a little before jumping straight back to work, it's dangerous.

-Because I don't want to die ?" You need to tell him. "Okay, Sean, I may not understand everything but I know you're lying to me. Am I wanted or not ?

He already lost every ounce of respect you had for him. First with the lying, then with the whole immigrants things.

-You don't believe me ? Is he trying to make you feel guilty ?

-I saw my fucking head on the TV. I believe that's enough proof for me. You cut the conversation straight, not wanting him to keep lengthening things uselessly.

Sean doesn't answer, seemingly hesitating. What is he thinking ? He has to respond. He's constantly trying to avoid the subject and it's getting frustrating.

-That means I'm in danger, right ?

-Yes." he finally answers. Thank God, you think, God why, you also think. "But not because of the Joker. He's not responsible for what's happening to you. All the cards and riddles are from him, yes, but someone saw you two talking at the bar and thought they could get to him by killing you.

You entirely stopped trusting him after he mentioned the cards and the riddles. Because never, in all your discussions, have you mentioned receiving these. He knows too much.

You don't bring it up, of course.

-Explain.

Who could have told him about the riddles, if not you ? The one sending them ? Yes, but Sean's terrified of him. Plus, he couldn't talk to him, even if he had the courage to. It's the Joker, from what you understand, you don't approach him easily. He's not the small local criminal. He's something more.

-The Joker's well known. Everyone wants to defy him. And someone saw you.

-Who ? you ask, finally getting some well deserved qualitative answers.

-His name was, uh, Korej I believe.

-Ko...Rej... you repeat, unimpressed, frowning.

Is it you or does it sound vaguely similar to Joker, but with the letters all mixed up ?

-It's his pseudonym." He hastily answers. "But his real name is John, he lives in the richest part of Gotham. He's a mob leader. He fucking despises the Joker, that's why his name is Kojer.

-Korej, you corrected.

-Yeah, it's difficult to remember. It's quite the shitty name.

He really think you're dumb, right ? You clasp your hands together, catching his drifting attention.

-Okay, well, thank you for everything Sean. It was a pleasure, truly. But now I'm gonna ask you to leave.

-You don't believe me ?

No, no you don't. Everything he ever said to you since he first came here was either weird or false. And sometimes weirdly false.

-Please, leave my house.

You'll go to the nearest police station, ask for help. And if nobody helps you, you'll find a way out of here. This city is dead anyway, there's nothing for you anymore. It's too late.

-Don't you want to talk about it ? he asks hurriedly, displaying his open hands in the air as if ready to grab your shoulders.

-If you want us to talk, okay, you yield. But choose somewhere safe, with a lot of people. I am not joining you at the back of the bar at night where everyone could kill me.

You're going crazy. Why are you even accepting this ? It's not a dream, nor a joke, you really are wanted. People want to kill you. There is money on your head. Sean is deep in thoughts before getting the enlightenment he needed, suddenly vigorously saying:

-Shopping center.

-What ?

-Let's meet at the shopping center, in two hours. I have things to prepare, people to call. You have my number, I'll call you. Is it good for you ?

His behaviour is screaming danger, on the other hand, a rendez-vous in a crowded shopping center at 3PM is not as risky as the bar. And if things turn bad, you still have a chance to run away, hidden in the mass. You hope the things he'll prepare will help you, and not worsen everything.

"Okay. You yield, once again.

-Thank you so much, he exclaimed." Why is he thanking you ? "You're a real sweetheart. It will be worth it."

And with these last words, he left.

You won't go. Of course you won't go damn, you don't want to die. He's so suspicious ! Why so much relief ? He's the one supposed to help you, you're not doing anything for him. You absolutely changed your mind. Yesterday, he was that nice man who saved your life, welcoming you home warmly. Today, he's, well, you don't know who he is anymore. You want to understand, discover what's wrong, but at the same time, it's not yours to do.

Fuck, you need to empty your mind. It's tiring, to be suspicious of everyone, to always have to thoroughly think about everything you do. You plop down on your couch, grabbing the remote and turning the TV on. There's a cartoon going on. Tom and Jerry, a cat chasing, or at least trying to, a mouse. But the mouse's well smarter than the cat. 

Each time he thinks he'll catch it, the mouse finds a way to turn the situation to his advantage. Because in fact, the cat will never win. He has the illusion of strength because of his height, when the mouse is vicious, malign. 

Also, if the cat caught the mouse, well, the show wouldn't have any interest anymore. 

On the screen, the mouse finds a way to slam the door in the cat face, who's dizzy. To illustrate it, stars and birds are rotating around his head.

You don't know why the mouse does all this, maybe to survive. The small animal found the comfort of a warm house with good cheese and doesn't want to leave. The cat, however, is forced to chase it all day. As his owners force him to. It's his role, as the house guard, to chase rodents. Otherwise, he'll be replaced. 

You have to be really damn fucked for you to start analyzing a stupid cartoon. 

Jeez, it's a cat chasing a mouse, it's silly, it's fun to watch. You don't think, just turn off your brain and have fun. Why can't you do just that ?

Sighing, you change channel, trying to find something worth watching. You end up watching the news, it keeping you grounded. It helps you think you're not the worst case, that there's always worse somewhere. It's deeply selfish, but hey, you can't do much about it. Your life is pretty much ruined at the moment. 

What's today's problem? Well this time, the subject is centered around climate change and its catastrophes.

"Global warming. Today, in Spain, alarming news. The national temperature has increased considerably by 46°F (5°C) since last year. The Spanish are revolted, the world is encountering a record in warmth. Their main claim, she reads her notes, "It's summer's weather when we're in autumn." She briefly gulps her saliva. "Indeed, the local heat reached 86°F (30°C) while 73°F (23°C) at night. IPCC's report is alarming, something has to change. Is the world government going to act ?" She quits her serious tone and changes the subject. "Local news; what's happening in Gotham today ?"

Ah, here you go. You turn up the volume. 

"Earlier in the main avenue today, several store signs were vandalized by a group of masked men, it is thought to be perpetrated by an illegal organization. It's a real raid that happened, terrorizing the passers-by and owners. The identity of the delinquent stays unfounded. We know that the police department is currently working on..."

You mute the TV. Vandalizing stores, now ? They didn't even steal anything, who does that ? On the screen, a replay of surveillance cameras showing masked men running, pushing people and only stopping to draw weird shapes on a few of the stores. It's bad, but not quite as bad as your case. Putting the sound back, you're perfectly timed with the conclusion of the event. 

"Where is Batman ? Has the vigilante abandoned our city ? We hope for his prompt return in time for him to apprehend the Joker." 

Batman, right. You forgot that man was even existing. While some wonder who is hiding behind the mask, you're left questioning yourself on which side is he. If he's with the cops, is he a good or bad man ? Police is part of the problem, certainly. But Batman sometimes helps people, although you never encountered him yourself. But is he really with the police ? 

Who is he working with ? And why is he what he is ?

"Whatever... You rub your eyes."

Why do you even keep thinking about that, it's not your problem anymore. You're leaving. Gotham has nothing left for you. Batman can do whatever he wants, for all you care. He doesn't know about your insignificant existence, why waste it thinking of him ? 

But are you really leaving this place, though ? 

Are you really about to leave your life and flee like a coward ? Yes, is the obvious answer. You could think about it, is the less obvious answer. 

Yes, your life is at stake. On the other hand, Sean could really be useful as you're still in danger as long as you stay in Gotham, he's a considerable ally in this story. And not only Sean but his family as well could help you. 

You know about his aunt. That woman is quite well known. A powerful gang chief. You could pay her to get escorted outside of Gotham. You're already indebted anyway, you have nothing to lose anymore. Moreover, nothing guarantees your safety once outside of Gotham. If the Joker is as feared as shown in the media, changing city won't be enough. Which is why you need to clear the problem directly from the root. 

Okay, you won't lose anything in going, right ? Maybe your life, but it's worth a try. You'll join Sean. Yes, you'll join him. 

When the time arrived, you couldn't shake that uneasy feeling taunting you all while preparing yourself. What if someone chases after you ? What if you get kidnapped ? You won't, of course you won't. Sean will be there when you arrive. He's dissuading enough. He's a big man. 

You found yourself before the gigantic mall before even being able to process it. It was crowded, people entering and getting out every second. For a moment, your eyes search for Sean in the rabble only to find no one. He's probably inside, it's safer. 

Tightly holding the hood stuck on your head, you stare intensely at whoever crosses your path, trying to gain enough courage to finally enter the building. 

It's scary to be wanted, the displeasing impression everyone's looking at you is suffocating. You could get killed, right now. Abducted, even. 

When the automated doors open, you're greeted by the cold air conditioning. It's autumn, why the hell would someone want to freeze to death ? 

Checking your phone, there's still no sign of Sean. He couldn't possibly stand you up, right ? He's the one who insisted for you to come. It wouldn't be logical. He's just late.

You can't really afford to be waiting in your situation, every second matters. You don't know what will happen. And, yeah, you're kind of starting to freak out. You don’t know where your wanted poster ended up. Maybe you’re already dead, and, shit, you're alone in such a vulnerable position. Fuck, why did you come ?

You’re trying to stay rational, thinking of every possibility as to why he’s not here. You nod your head to yourself, trying to ease your nerves. He'll come. You just need a little patience. He said he needed to prepare things beforehand, that's why he's late. He's late because he'll help you. 

You miss the mall, it's been long since you last came here, too preoccupied with your two jobs. You used to like watching people but quickly stopped. First, you once or twice made an awkwardly long eye contact with a man who then wanted to beat you up for provoking him, "like a pussy". Then, the second reason is that people are just... Mean. You'd look at a pretty woman only for her to spit on the ground. In the street is already disgusting enough, but the mall ! You'll look at a man hugging a woman, just to realize that they both don't know each other and that he's drunk out of his mind. 

Maybe you do need to get out of here, actually. 

Your phone still hasn't buzzed, you need to do something with your body or you’ll go crazy. It’s obvious staring daggers at your device every second won’t help. He's not here yet, you need to accept it and wait. You'll walk a little to not get noticed, your tensed and motionless body language is screaming suspicious and people are starting to side eye you. 

It’s only natural of your legs to start bringing you to the places you used to go to, only to realize that one of your favorite stores closed permanently. Of course, with the crisis. It’s not surprising. 

"Fucking morons..." Mutters a man to your left. Upon looking in his direction, you meet the owner of the voice standing on a stepladder, trying to energetically scrub with a sponge his store's sign. Key word being 'trying' as it's not successful. 

Right, earlier's vandals. 

He's cursing to himself, scrubbing progressively more aggressively the almost intact big black 'O' tagged on the sign mocking him. 

"Can I know who did that? asked your curiosity. 

-Fucking assholes, he answers without even looking your way, that's who did that. 

-What do they looked like ?

-No idea, he grumbles. They all had that stupid mask on. All white with some blue and red. No idea what that was supposed to be. Ask the other owners if you're so interested, but you're late. Journalists already left. 

Oh, right. He thinks you’re a journalist. 

-Thank you, have a nice day sir.

-Yeah yeah…”

You heard several stores were vandalized, where are the others ? Letting your legs wander, you get your answer a few meters/feet away. A sign is hanging by an electric thread. 

It’s a shoe store, but its signboard was now displaying a big black 'O'. You lift a brow, confused about its meaning. Usually, tag either insults or convey a message. Anyhow, there's a sense. Now though, you can't quite pinpoint it. O, what starts with an O. Optimism, oppression, obedient omelette ? It can be anything. Maybe it's not a letter, but a signature? 

Two stores away (you see it out of the corner of your eye) another of these is vandalized, this time, a bold 'B' was written. What word could this correspond to? B for Batman ? It's not a word, mostly a name. Baby, maybe. Bomb, bag, anything. Hell, it could even be badminton for all you know. 

Next letter is directly after the previous one, a 'S' hiding the dress logo the sign was exhibiting prior. The paint is dripping a little and one or two drops can be seen on the ground. 

"Those damn scum." a man grumbles, who you think might be the owner of the poor store. He crosses his arms on his chest, looking up disapprovingly. 

You ignore him, now thrilled by all of this. You want to discover all the tags. It's not like you have much better to do anyway. Sean still hasn't answered you. You know what to do to wait: find words for each letter. S makes you think of sabotage, skull and soup. 

You see the next letter from afar, this time, an "E" welcomes you. Though, this one was partially erased. You guess the owner found the right product. It's now possible to read the sign and enjoy the sweet sight of what seems to be a sex shop sign. Is it even legal ? There's kids coming into this mall. Anyway, a lot of words start with E; Electric, Ebola, education, eagle. 

You don't find the next letter right away, needing to walk a little to find it. But when you do, you're weirdly excited. It's just a bunch of words on some signboards, yet, it's fun. Like an orienteering race. But mostly because you don't get to have much fun today, and this being out of your quotidian, it's easy to be ecstatic.  

Further away, it's not one but two letters that greets you; two "S", entwined like snakes. Shit, is it a nazi kind of tag ? It looks like the police's symbol there was back then. If that’s the case, you don’t find this as exciting as before. Not a good thing to write. There's already so much chaos here, you pray nazis are not going to be added to it. You think of the word 'Swiss' for this letter.

Next letter is an 'I'. Investigation, investment, ice. A woman bypasses you, hitting your shoulder with her. You squeal out of surprise, the woman doesn't even notice you. What a shitty town. You check your phone again, making sure Sean didn't try to contact you. No reply. 

Walking ahead, the next vandalized store needs you to turn to the left to be seen, it's an 'O', again. But you don’t have the time to think of words that you already see the next letter. It’s a ‘N’. Night, Nemo (as in the movie) and nuisance. You already found words starting with ‘O’ anyway. It seems to be the last one as you walk and turn but no others appear. Disappointment lingers, sad it ended so soon. 

What is it, does it form a word at the end ? Like street art ? Maybe, a shame you already forgot all the previous letters. It was fun, though. You'd do it again, it's entertaining. Like a track game where you follow a path. Vibrations are bringing you back to reality, rushing to take it, you rotate to leave the place in order to find somewhere calmer. In your haste, you bump straight into someone. You freeze for a second, phone in hand.

They’re wearing a mask, a clown mask on their black hair. And a really ugly one. It’s shiny, like plastic and it surely is. Their eyes are the only thing you see through the holes. Whoever that is is staring right into your damn soul. Their eyes are empty, so empty you might think they’re on some kind of drug. The big red nose in the middle of their face is mocking you, laughing at you to be scared of something so ridiculous. Two small tufts of green hair are standing on each side of his head, the false bloody teeth drawn on the mask is the final touch that tells you to leave.

“Sorry.” you mumble, avoiding eye contact.

Your hands are holding your phone so tightly that fear strikes you that you could actually break the screen. The clown does not move when you walk past him, and you realize right then and there that they were well too close to you for it to be normal. You hate clowns, you hate them so much. All of this because of that stupid Joker. That person probably wasn’t even related to him, maybe he was one of the vandals. You don’t know, you don’t want to.

When you pick up Sean’s call, he apologizes for being late and plans an area for you to meet. You’re before the sex shope tagged by the “E” by the time Sean joins you. You’re not as convinced as before to destroy the problem from its root after the clown encounter. You’re not a hero, not a criminal. You’re nothing, you don’t have anything to prove to anybody. You should leave.

“You okay ? You look like you saw a ghost ? He laughs, but he’s not your friend so you don’t.

-So ? Got out much more coldly than you intended it to be.

-Jeez, you’re impatient. I’ll help you, I told you I would, right ?

You did, doesn’t mean you really will. You cross your arms on your chest, approaching him for him to hear you more clearly.

-Do you have any information ? Ways to get me out of here ? To resolve this ? Anything ?

He sighs, stepping back as if you’re the plague and looking elsewhere in the crowd. He seems conflicted, forehead creased by his worry.

-I can’t tell you now, walls have ears.

-Then why the fuck would you tell me to join you here ? If you’re so scared to be spied on, we could have continued this discussion at my place.

Your tension is building up. It’s fucking frustrating to talk with him. He starts teasing you with interesting information, then, he retreats and acts as if nothing happened and you’re just impatient. He told you to come here, he told you he’d help you.

-At least answer my questions, you plead, I don’t even know who… Who is the Joker ? Who is he exactly ? He physically tensed, his shoulders literally hunched forwards. What the hell ?

-Well, uh, it's complicated.

Damn, even that couldn’t be answered. Why are you still here ?

-What do you mean it's complicated ? Is he a terrorist ? A thief ? A gang leader ? A serial killer ? It's a simple question.

-He's a little bit of everything, truly.

Why does he always seem so nervous talking about him ?

-Sean for the love of God, he’s not here ! people are starting to look in your direction, but you couldn’t care less. You can calm down, he won’t kill you ! You gotta breathe a little, man. Aren’t you the one who literally told me he wasn’t after me ? It’s not the first time you’re lying to me and I’m starting to lose it. Why am I here ? Tell me, why are we fucking here if you’re not gonna help me ! Who is this man and what does he want ? Why does he want to kill me ! It’s…” a gunshot whistles in the air, cutting you in your sentence straight away, screams erupting from all sides.

Your body acts before you can think, throwing yourself on the ground. It’s hard to understand what’s going on, but in a way, you don’t try to. You get up quickly and lose yourself in the running and yelling crowd. Your paranoia is not helping, was this gunshot aimed at you ? Sean is somewhere in the mall, but it’s too late. You gave him a chance, he wasted it.

Another gunshot echoes, followed closely by the sound of a glass breaking. Your senses are overwhelmed; names, insults, orders are being yelled. Is the Joker here ? You need to get out of here, now. Bodies are pushed against yours, your clothes are being tugged on. But when you were about to reach the exit, someone harshly grabs you out of the crowd, pulling you aside. It’s panic in your head, survival instinct kicking in. You yank your arm out of the person’s hold but freeze upon seeing Sean threaten you with a gun.

“Sean, you start with a shaky voice, what the fuck ? his eyes are cold, you don’t recognize him. He looks at you as if you're nothing, as if you're no one.

-He’s here, he states, looking paranoidly to the sides. He’s… He’s going to kill me if I don’t bring you to him.

-Bring me to who, Sean ? But you fear you might already know.

-The Joker.

Of course he’d betray you. Who are you kidding ? You knew, you knew he would trap you. Your eyes can’t leave the sight of the gun barrel, following each of its movements. He’s shaking, you realize. Is he scared, hesitating ? Or motivated by a hatred so pure he can’t even control his own feelings ?

-Sean, you try nonetheless, he’ll kill you either way okay ? He’s a sadist, we can… you gulp, throat suddenly burning dry. We can leave together, we’ll leave the city and…

-You don’t understand, do you ? He’ll track you, he’ll track us down. And then, he’ll slaughter us like pigs. You hear me ? He’ll slaught…

-I get it ! I get it ! you scream, shutting your eyes in order to erase those images from your head.

How can you even change his mind ? You doubt he’d fold with some speech about your friendship. It’s not like you two were that close to be honest. Sure, you liked him but that changed since the beginning of the Joker catastrophe.

-He promised me money, he explained himself. As if you’d forgive him after hearing his justification. A lot of money. You can’t understand what it’s like to… when you see him lower his weapon, you interrupt him, drived by your anger.

-How can you be so stupid ? He was, he truly was an idiot for believing the Joker. You haven’t known that beast for long, but each time someone defined him, it was always along the lines of wicked, treacherous, vicious and ruthless. So yeah, he was stupid. Was your life worth something as insignificant as money ? Has he ever liked you ?

-Shut up ! I’m done living like a fucking tramp !

Tramp is a big word coming from him, daddy pays him everything ! You’re tired of his tantrums, he is a grown man, ten or fifteen years older than you and he’s acting like a child. Suffering is your quotidian as well, but you would’ve never betrayed him. In fact, that is your problem. You’re not a scumbag like him, that’s why you can’t stand him. You have no value similar to his, if he even has some. By what right does he think he can use you to get, what, a few dirty money ?

If you're going to die, at least you'll die telling him every resentment you had towards him.

-You think I am happy ?! Your life’s better than mine ! Fuck you Sean, you’re an asshole ! You’re a fucking asshole ! You’re the one that should die !

-Shut the fuck up you whore !

A burning pain sliced through you along a sharp sound, legs losing all strength and making you fall on the ground. Your ears are ringing and your breath is cut for a few long seconds. What happened ? Is the first question popping in your head, but the atrocious pain coursing through your leg answers you. Your hand touches your hurting limb, but retreats it instantly at the pain. So you look down.

Blood, there’s blood everywhere.

It’s yours. It’s… It’s your damn blood, you’re bleeding. You have a hole in your leg and it’s gushing out blood. He shot you. Fuck, oh God, oh God, you’re bleeding. You’re fucking bleeding and it hurt like hell. It hurt so damn bad, why, why did he do that ? Your eyes are stinging and soon, tears fall down your cheeks. Are you going to die ? Here ? With nothing accomplished ? Alone ? Shot by the only man you thought was your friend ?

-I believe alive was written on the contract.

You recognize that voice, you hear it in your nightmares.

-Joker ! I… She tried to run away, I had to immobilize her !

It’s weird, your body is exhausted, yet, the pain is keeping you well awake. Your head is heavy when you lay it on the dirty ground of the mall. Eyes trailing slowly to the two men talking. Finally, he’s here before you. He’s shown himself. Even if it’s only the second time you see him, you talked and heard about him so much these past hours it feels like you’ve been with him for months. And maybe you were, in a way. Sean walks past you, not glancing towards your drained body on the ground. He’s scared of him. He plays the big man with you, but he’s a little bitch.

How is Sean, a man built like a fridge, so terrified of someone so ridiculous as the Joker ?

Who is he ?

The pain in your leg makes it feel numb and at the same as alive as it never been. The Joker sighs exaggeratedly, he tilts his head to the side to look at you. Shivers shake your whole body. Is that it ? This is the man who’ll abduct you ? You’d rather get killed instantly.

-And right on Valentine’s day...” mumbles the Joker.

It’s not, it’s autumn. Valentine’s day is in February, in winter. From your position, police sirens are heard and red and blue lights are flashing, reflecting on the windows. The Joker takes out a gun out of his long purple jacket and aims it towards Sean.

“Please ! He yells. I-I did what you wanted ! She’s here, please don’t kill me ! I’m a hitman, I’ll work for you !

Is he, now ? He's barely a barman.

-Do I look like I'm searching for employees ? He asks, opening his arms and bending his hands for his palms to face the ceiling before looking around him for confirmation. Because I’m not.”

You're torn between relief and horror at the sight of Sean falling to the ground after another gunshot, bathing in his own blood. He did betray you, he brought you here, he brought this upon you, upon himself. But he’s dead. You wished him to, but now that he is you’re horrified.

It’s then that you realize that The Joker is surrounded by his masked goons. Probably the one who vandalized the store, now that you think about it. You walked right into his trap.

“Well ? What are you waiting for ? he asks almost comically. Bring the package to the car !

When several men surrounds you, you're left yelling and fighting to get out of their holds, in vain, of course. The blood gushing out of your hurting limb isn't helping much, anyway. You feel your strength slowly evaporate from you.

Shotguns echoes, but your ringing ears prevent you to precisely locate it. Soon, they throw you in the back of a car and close the door, leaving you in the dark.

Gotham killed you.  

#heath ledger joker #Joker #ledger joker x reader #ledger joker #heath ledger joker x reader #the dark knight #vitzi9writings #i am losing it

[reticent-writer]

Hello! I hope you are well! Can i request a headcannon for mob psycho about mobs s/o stealing his hoodies please?

You can do additional characters if you want to, if not that's okay! 🤗

Thank you! Please be safe in whatever you do!

◡̈⋆ʜᴇʟʟᴏ(●’◡’●)ﾉ I am well, thanks for asking.

---

Mob

Tbh I don't think he would notice at first

One day he would just look into his closet and see his favorite sweatshirts gone

At first he thought dimple had something to do with it

Until later that day he saw you with it on

"Oh it was you." It said with a slight blush on his face while twittling his fingers.

You hummed in confusion tilting your head to the side making him blush harder.

"M-my hoodie." He nervously

"Oh sorry I forgot to give it back when you lent it to me." You said while playing with the strings.

"It's fine you came keep it. You look cute in it." At the realization of what he said the poor boy passed out from embarrassment.

Reigen

He knew it was you

But instead of saying something like a normal person

He decided to show up at your place in the middle of the night and make a scene

One flaw tho

You were asleep in the hoodie

"Babe" he whispered while snacking you slightly "y/n wake up."

After a few minutes of shaking you finally started to open your eyes only to be startled by the man. You nearly fell of your bed.

"That's my hoodie."

#male reader #female reader #gn reader #mob x reader #shigeo x reader #mob psycho x reader #reigen x reader #reigen arataka x reader #reticent writes #reticent-writes

[quirkle2]

the angst in your zombie au bREAKS MY HEART INTO PIECES (I LOVE IT VERY MUCH)

okay, okay, so!! if the kagebros got separated from reigen and teru when mob is still fine, i imagine that their reunion would be hEARTWRENCHING also, i'm a bit curious, would mob still be able to recognize teru and reigen? or would he thought about them as strangers?

(tbh, following your lore, i imagine mob would act a similarly like nezuko from demon slayer? but instead of little hums, his zombie sounds would more like babbling and incoherent mumbles :"D)

the reunion is fuckin AWFUL man it's SO gut-wrenching. both reigen and teru feared this for Months while looking for the brothers; pretty much the worst case scenario was that mob or ritsu or Both turned—a lot of humans prefer death over being a zombie any day, so the idea of ritsu or mob having to go through that and wander around aimlessly until starvation or smth else gets them,,,

it hurts them so much to think about. teru forces himself not to dwell on it and he's pretty good at that but reigen thinks abt it a lot and he's honestly not sure what scenario is worse. best case is that they're both alive and unturned, obviously, but what's the worst case? you'd think it's both of them getting killed, or turning, but reigen also knows that if One of them got killed/turned, the other would probably lose their mind, especially if they had to watch. the fact that they're kids makes this all three times worse and reigen has to act like he's Not worrying himself sick over the brothers while he tries to keep teru in high spirits

the reunion itself is rly fuckin gut-wrenching for them. they see mob from afar, wandered off just a bit from ritsu and tome who are just around the bend looting a place, and they book it bc ofc they do, it's mob!! but then they see how pale he is, and when he turns around they don't see that light in his eyes that's usually there and the red is dulled and dead looking,, teru almost moves in for a hug before he realizes mob looks vastly different when he Rly takes him in, and mob doesn't rly react too much besides staring at them blankly. the obvious answer is almost too horrifying to even consider, so it takes them a minute to rly,,realize what's going on

tome comes around the bend and shouts, cuz when humans and zombies mix it's usually guns pointed at zombie heads. ritsu comes running out after her and when he sees reigen and teru his thoughts go, in order: holy shit is that reigen and tero ohmygod oh my god they're alive they're alive ohmy god i could fucking cry, and ohmy god they see shige ohno oh no oh no

ritsu sounds like a lunatic when he pulls mob away from them on instinct and says that he's safe to be around and that he's "still him" and he's "not gone" and he's very aware of that. he's very, intimately aware that he sounds fuckin crazy, bc ofc he does, this is what all the crazy people in zombie movies sound like. but he doesn't care, he doesn't care if reigen or teru dismiss him as nuts—he has to make them understand that his brother is still in there somewhere

and yeah, they both kinda think that ritsu's lost his marbles a little bit, but while teru is focused on that and the fact that mob doesn't look like he's rly tuned into Anything that's happening rn, reigen is a bit more focused on the fact that both ritsu and mob look awful? they're both very skinny and very dirty, obviously barely scraping by. they're cut up and ritsu's jacket is basically blood and dirt with a little bit of green fabric mixed in. and just by the look in ritsu's eyes, reigen can tell, man ... reigen can tell ritsu is like.not okay at this point he's kinda lost it.

i think the most painful thing about this whole reunion in general is that later that night, when reigen and teru r finally like ok we get it he's,, he's still mob. we believe you (they want to believe him... [they Do believe him, later, wholeheartedly]) and they settle down someplace safe, teru asks how long mob's been like this. and ritsu has to answer "since we got separated" and they both have that to stew over while everybody else sleeps

they realize that ritsu likely watched mob turn, watched the entire process, and that process takes a long time. it's at least a week of deteriorating motor functions and cognitive skill, and the fact that ritsu stayed for that to keep mob company is .ough. and it doesn't end there bc ritsu obviously stayed after that too

given how these things usually go, ritsu probably did think about killing mob. it probably did cross his mind, bc that's basically what everybody's been told to do. kill them before they have a chance to do any more damage. and it's obvious that ritsu did not have it in him

ritsu not only did not have it in him to kill him, he didn't even have it in him to leave him there. the kid fucking took him with him. a zombie. and he's somehow made it work, for months. and the next few days are filled with watching him still treat mob like a brother and take care of him and gently steer him away from a bird he tries to follow down the wrong street.ritsu is as gentle and kind as he's ever been with his brother. and even tho they're both hungry and tired and barely making it, ritsu is doing a rly good job taking care of mob with what he's been given

the kid obviously wholeheartedly believes in a cure and that mob is still There. he's gone through the trouble to take care of him, and the grief of continuously seeing a loved one that many would consider effectively dead, to get him that cure. to get him his brother back. and mob doesn't seem to be in any pain or distress, so reigen and teru think that this path ritsu has followed is probably infinitely kinder than the mercy kill method they've been taught to do

i think they have a new respect for ritsu, after that reunion

#qktalks #anon #zombie au #and also yes!! mob Would indeed recognize them and not attack them #i've never seen demon slayer but im assuming ur talking abt the main character's ??little sister?? smth like that #but yes i adore the idea of mob saying rly weird incoherent sentences that Almost sound like real words but like slightly to the left #bein a zombie rewires ur brain completely man .his mind is struggling a lot to say what it wants to say #it takes mob a moment to rly catch onto who's in front of him during the reunion but when he does realize there Is recognition in his eyes #fun fact; if u hug zombie mob muscle memory kicks in and he hugs back! #reigen and teru don't find this out until a few days later. they're a bit.. scared of him snapping at them for a while #but once they see that mob never once snaps at ritsu Or tome they're a little more willing to get near him and touch him #teru finally hugs mob and mob hugs back and it makes teru cry VGEAYEAV #(ritsu has hugged zombie mob enough to where now mob leans into his hugs.just giving u smth to sob over) #still related to the reunion but focusing more on ritsu: #after they reunite reigen notices that ritsu has a lot more..authority in his tone. he's a lot more comfortable taking charge #but he also notices that ritsu looks Exhausted and for a while he has trouble relinquishing the lead role to reigen aka the only adult #and it's entirely bc ritsu is just so used to doing things on his own now that he Forgets he has people to lean on #so it takes a bit for him to remember he has an adult to take care of him now #bro definitely overworks himself a lot in his haste to take care of mob :( #ritsu eventually lets himself lean on reigen when he's tired #poor kid melts into that kind of care after so long of not having that and being the sole provider for him and mob #when tome came around it got easier. but that also meant it was another mouth to feed so.only a little bit easier </3

[sculkapologist]

I have plenty of other projects I should be working on BUT then Mochi started building a shop to fill in the huge wall of dirt between the greenhouse and the boardwalk by the water, and I became CONSUMED with the need to join in and decorate a bunch of tiny houses.... SO!! TOWNHOUSE TIME!! You can also see buildings that Boo (the lime green)and Mochi (the grey and prismarine shop) have been working on in that first image… there's still a bunch along the boardwalk that's under construction, too. I built three townhouses and decorated the upstairs of mochi's shop, many more images under the cut!!

The blue townhouse was the first one I made, with the exterior inspired pretty directly from mechitect's townhouse design tutorial.

it's pretty simple! It's when I started to discover alcoves are interesting with these tiny buildings, since you're sort of dependent on what the house next to you is doing. Oh, also, that painting is one of my custom maps.

The pink townhouse was a little more ambitious - this one has a little kitchen, an aquarium idea I got from klay_designs_mc on instagram and TWO tiny bedrooms (one for the grownups and one for the kids), which may seem very straightforward but actually i took a great deal of psychic damage arranging them to fit in this little 8x8 space

we have some kind of resource pack on our realm that makes every mob drop mob heads occasionally, and I just really like sticking them on shelves as like... some kind of toys or figurines or plushies.

Anyway, while I was excitedly showing my progress to my friends, Mochi asked if I'd be willing to decorate the upstairs of his flower shop -- the building next to my blue townhouse. He wanted it to be a living space above the shop, and mentioned that the large windows might be nice for a kitchen, and other than that left me to my own devices.

TREMENDOUSLY PROUD OF THIS ONE TBH...!!! bed design was inspired by a bluenerd tutorial, and the little hearts are as always inspired by my fav builder CroissantCat, though honestly my entire minecraft portfolio should just have "inspired by bluenerd and/or croissantcat" on the first page. (the lamps are those mob heads again btw -- you can do this with the existing skeleton heads, but if you HAVE glow squid heads like... WHY NOT USE THEM)

anyway at this point I had obviously completely lost my mind, so my third townhouse has an upstairs, a basement, a home office, AND a bathroom. (it wasn't going to have a bathroom originally, but Boo saw the downstairs and gasped in excitement b/c he thought it was a bathroom, sO LIKE.... OBVIOUSLY AFTER THAT I HAD TO ADD A BATHROOM)

watched a WHOLE BUNCH of blendigi Modern Interior Design tutorials for ideas here, including some armour stand crimes to make THAT INCREDIBLE OFFICE CHAIR???? but im still very pleased with my decision to use the one Long Painting as a TV screen lmao

there were actually a whole bunch of planning scribbles for this... it started out with just a little layout of 3 possible designs for townhouse facades, and then turned into MANY floorplan attempts as I tried to figure out how to fit everything I wanted into these smaller spaces:

Anyway, I think that's everything!! Thanks for joining me on this tour of my townhouses lmao, hopefully this has sated my craving for interior design for a bit!!

#minecraft #block game liveblogging #minecraft screenshots #minecraft build #mineblr #minecraft aesthetic #bsl shaders #this was SO fun tbh #SOMETIEMS U JUST NEED TO BUILD.. A LITTLE HOUSE....

[bkdk-art]

Spoilers for BNHA Season 6 Episode 22 ahead

Look at our pretty, all serious blond!!

(who is also hiding his eyes like he always does when he's emotional and is talking about something close to his heart like arggggh my heart, I'm dead)

I also think about the scene a lot, right before Katsuki attacks Dictator and yells "Shit!". I haven't tought about that moment too much when I read the manga but the thought of Katsuki seeing Izuku getting attacked, almost devoured by the controlled mob just gets me. The anxiety that must have been creeping up on him - I don't want to even think about it. Whether you ship them or not, you probably agree - witnessing something like that must be devastating.

So, I really like what the animations has done for me in that scene.

And Katsuki telling Endeavor how Izuku and All Might teaming up is the worst idea ever - the way Nobu-san voiced this, like!! Yes, give us all the emotions, tysm!!

However, I do have a complaint, tbh.

Where's Iida's hand on Katsuki's shoulder, guys??

And in general, why are they all standing so far from one another. I know, Bones has the habit of putting distance between characters but uff, still makes me sad, robbing Class A off their bond and shared experience. I won't ever get used to it, I guess.

Okay, and now the last screenshot of the day:

Even though I hate seeing Izuku beaten up and isolated like this, I have to say, this frame right here is lit!

Can't wait for next week's episode!

#bnha #bnha spoilers #bnha anime #mha #my hero academia #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #bkdk #bakudeku #mha class 1a #classa

[russenoire]

here, i'm gonna spill some more ink over studio bones' decisions adapting ???% in mob psycho 100's confession arc... in a lighter color, perhaps.

some manga readers are upset at the lack of separation between '???%' and 'mob' in the anime vs the clear separation in the manga. that separation doesn't exist in the original japanese.

mob's 声優 (seiyuu) setsuo itō's voice acting in this scene from MP100's first season is by turns startling and visceral (tbh, most of the VA work in this scene is amazing, but i'm only referring to mob here).

given the above, i expected a voice come up from the depths of hell for ???% in the confession arc, but bones and itō-san did not indulge my whims here. what they gave us instead...

...actually reflects the source material.

while there is an audible distinction between ???%'s nonchalant contempt and mob's considerably-more-animated (thanks to all that emotional growth we've seen over the course of the story!) upset, they sound like the same person in the anime... because they are. i thought this a tidy way to convey that fact, and this subtle distinction is not that different in feel from what we see on the page in the original language.

inside the teenager's mind, shigeo (???%) and mob quarrel in the same font. tails on their speech bubbles eventually disappear as they continue to argue with each other. i found this pointed lack of separation a little confusing on first read, but eventually became used to it.

(for a breakdown of this full conversation in the manga, check out @exilepurify's awesome translation post.)

shigeo chafes at the thought of considering others' needs. he scorns mob for bending himself into a shape he thinks will suit tsubomi, mocks mob's desire to blend into the background and somehow escape notice. his own wish for tsubomi to accept him in all his explosive vainglory doesn't take her wishes into account, either.

and yet. his desires are subordinate to mob's.

he wants what mob wants -- only without that whole pesky 'consideration for other people' thing -- and he wants to keep mob alive. their full conversation reveals just how much shigeo actually loves mob.

for all practical purposes, any distinctions between shigeo and mob -- private vs public, subconscious vs conscious -- only exist in the boy's head. even then, they have been unfairly imposed... by mob himself.

the teenager laying waste to seasoning city? the teenager his friends and family love? one and the same.

his loved ones and allies address him with the names by which they know him; they assume he's the same person, just experiencing an involuntary loss of control and in need of some help. it's important to emphasize that. drastically different voices for shigeo and mob would have drawn a hard line between them where there is none.

studio bones removed and/or internalized ???%'s lines, apparently robbing him of speech. but ???% is talking to himself, and no one else can hear him.

in the manga, shigeo seizes control of the boy's speech centers and speaks out loud as ???%, in a scratchy, rough font meant to evoke a harsh voice. (it's the same font used for ???%'s last brief, conscious takeover when mob discovers the crispy fried corpses of his family in their merrily crackling home! you can hear itō-san's delightful interpretation of it in episode 9 from the second season.)

he says:

｢僕の好きにやらせてもらう。」 boku no s'ki ni yarasete morau. 'i'll be free to do whatever i want.' or more literally: 'i will take [from you] the allowance to do as i please.' his use of 貰う here emphasizes that he is forcing mob's hand.

this line and the shift in viewpoint serve to highlight the exact moment where shigeo gains the advantage in his argument with mob.

mob and shigeo squabble for external control for a while; ONE shows this by letting them both speak aloud in this same rough voice. both sides of the fight between the two (at least after 'i'll be free to do whatever i want') can actually be heard from the outside. we only get a few small panels of this as it's happening, but it's unnerving.

shigeo, who is winning this battle, not only gets far more lines as seen from without, but his harsh rasp even colors mob's external speech. this is mob's only line the mangaka lets us see in that font, and it's heartbreaking:

｢だって… もしこれが本当の僕の姿だっていうなら…」 datte... mosh' kore ga hontou no boku no sugata datte iu nara... 'because... if this [???%] is what i really am, as you say...

the line continues within:

｢本当の僕になんて誰も近寄らない。誰も…　誰も助けてくれない。そんなの嫌いだ。」 hontou no boku ni nante daremo ch'kayoranai. daremo... daremo tas'kete kurenai. sonna no kirai da. 'no one will come anywhere near the real me. no one... no one will be there for me. i won't have that.'

the full takeover, which happens a bit later, is marked by:

shigeo's dissolution of and absorption of mob's consciousness into himself;

reigen's ｢すまない｣ (sumanai, 'i'm sorry') for not knowing the nature of what his deshi was struggling to contain;

???%'s last glance back at the man before pressing on towards his goal... as reigen begs him to wait, running after him.

thereafter, we see ???% from without. we get two short glimpses of shigeo's internal perspective before dimple's reappearance, then rejoin him inside for his last explosion with mob.

the anime depicts the moment of full takeover thusly:

shigeo's dissolution of and absorption of mob's consciousness into himself;

a ｢すまない｣ from reigen, who senses something has gone even more wrong with the boy and renews his pursuit... begging him to wait;

shigeo's turning his back on reigen and walking on. we see him spurning his mentor from the inside, his face hardening against a stark black backdrop.

the outward shift happens on-screen too. while it eventually returns to an internal view just as the manga does, it largely stays there, owing to a serious expansion of the scene where shigeo indulges his thirst for revenge on reigen.

except for an audible sigh when teru remarks on how normal his friend's losing control of himself actually makes him, anime shigeo speaks to no one.

???% is alone when he speaks in the manga; reigen is nowhere within earshot and shigeo is only addressing mob. in other words, he's talking to himself. shigeo never utters a word to anyone else in either manga or anime, as if he owes no one an explanation for the choice to sack his hometown or injure his friends.

as bone-chilling and unsettling as ???% speaking out loud is on the page, as much as it enhances the reading experience... in my opinion, it adds nothing new to our understanding of this situation on the screen. viewers can see for themselves that:

an internal takeover has occurred in this boy's mind,

???% is sentient and human and ever so divinely enraged at having been chained up for so long;

???% is finally free.

so why should studio bones belabor this point by having him shout, in the middle of a tornado, to no one in particular? if a boy speaks in a tornado, and there is no one around to hear it, does he make a sound... ?

i also don't know that this would translate well to film. in real life, talking to oneself like that usually carries connotations of psychosis, and resolving it as is done here would honestly be an insult to real-life sufferers. i love it to pieces in the manga but understand why this was cut.

the only things removing ???%'s outward speech loses for me are:

one last opportunity for itō-san to flex that audible jump-scare STOMACH-TWISTING SNARL (oh, i will miss it so);

a slightly-less-vague sense of how shigeo might make his wishes known to tsubomi, were he to present himself to her like this... he wants her approval so badly, and is terrified of not getting it. would he be able to speak to her at all? in the manga the question becomes what would he even say to her?

#mob psycho 100 #mp100 #mp100 meta #mp100 anime #mp100 manga #mp100 manga spoilers #sometimes adaptations give you new perspective on the source material #and pose new interesting questions #1-cour anime adaptations are summaries and should be appraised as such #what would ???% say to tsubomi if he met her in this state? #would he be able to speak to her at all? #???% talking to himself is unsettling AF #???% is fun to think about #this is a long post #thanks for reading #let me be clear #i am not uncritical of the anime confession arc #翻訳 #manga translation #if a boy speaks in a tornado #and there's no one around to hear it #does he make a sound... ? #i like that ???% isn't entirely silent in the anime #just nonverbal #which also raises a whole host of fascinating implications #to be tackled in another post #kageyama shigeo #分析