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cherry-glade · 4 years ago

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only ever pain (until you)

pairing: jason todd x reader

summary: it’s been a while since this has happened—jason’s been having a good run—but life is always out to get him, and soon enough, he's curled up into a ball of nothing but pain, aching muscle and brittle bone. luckily, like the last few times, he has you now to help him get through it.

warnings: some angst, jason being mostly touch-averse in this, jason also being quite self-deprecating, sensory overload, hurt/comfort, ptsd and hallucinations, chronic illness (fibromyalgia).

w/c: 4786 words

Jason doesn't know why it happens—maybe it's a side effect of either the Lazarus Pit, or of living in a world that he doesn’t belong in, where he should technically be dead, or perhaps it's just the trauma from the Joker's beating coming back to haunt him—but some days, it's as though all Jason is capable of feeling is pure, unadulterated pain.

He knows that it’s going to be one of those days from the minute he wakes up, wincing and turning away as the sun peeks through the window and makes his eyes sting, even though they’re still closed. He tries to roll over onto his stomach, not realising that the sheets are tangled up around his legs, and ends up falling off the bed with a dull thud, knee bashing into the floor.

Shoving the sheets away, Jason pushes himself up into a sitting position, stretching his leg out and noticing the faint redness to his skin, but he doesn’t take much note of it as he rubs at his surprisingly sore knee, preoccupied by the sudden throbbing pain in his head and behind his right eye, a sure sign of an incoming migraine.

Groaning, he stands up, damn near clinging onto the bedside table for support as he picks up his phone up and taps on the screen to check the time. It’s nearly noon, so you must already be at work. Jason usually wakes up on time though for you to kiss him goodbye, and the fact that he didn’t today is just another sign that things are probably going to end up going to shit.

Jason’s legs feel weak as he walks to the bathroom. He swears he can feel each individual fibre in the carpeting, rough against his feet. Jason pushes on and relieves himself before washing his hands and splashing cold water onto his face, nearly collapsing into a heap on the floor, but he manages to catch himself before he cracks his head open on the sink.

”You look like a piece of shit that got turned into roadkill, and are very lucky that Y/N isn’t here right now to witness this,” Jason says to his reflection in the mirror above the sink as he leans forward, noting his bloodshot eyes and the bags underneath them, skin paler than usual.

He blinks hard at the mirror and then stumbles out towards your kitchen, regretting not putting any socks on first as his bare feet come into the contact with the tiled floor, cold and leeching any remaining heat from his body. Jason fills the kettle up with water and switches it on, studying the darkening bruise on his knee as he waits for it to come to a boil.

Surprisingly enough, the bruise is already reddish in colour, almost verging on purple and tender to the touch as Jason prods at it with his fingers like a curious child, hissing at the pain radiating from it. He tries his best to ignore the dull ache as he makes himself a quick cup of jasmine tea, specially bought for him by Alfred, fingers trembling all the while.

Jason has to pick up his mug with both hands, taking a moment to let the warmth of the tea seep through his body, and then makes the mistake of taking a step back towards the bedroom. He vaguely recalls having a conversation with Tim and Damian, a while ago now, about if he would rather walk on heated coals or a trail of Legos. Remembers Damian absentmindedly mentioning that he’d already done the former as part of his training in the League of Assassins.

Remembers chiming in himself and saying that he’d done the same, then having to squirm away from Dick when he’d gotten that oddly sad look on his face as soon as Damian mentioned it—that look that said Jason was going to get a hug whether he liked it or not. Jason had barely escaped by pushing Damian into Dick’s arms instead, and Dick had apparently been appeased by that as he curled around Damian like an octopus, still giving Jason puppy eyes.

This, right now? Taking this single step? It feels infinitely worse than both options combined.

Jason grits his teeth and forces himself through walking the few paces to your shared bedroom, feeling like he’s about to collapse onto the floor the whole way. He has to take a break when he reaches the doorway, clinging to the doorframe with one hand, and tries to keep his other hand to stay as still as physically possible so it doesn’t spill, even as the handle of the mug feels bruising against his palm.

Jason takes a moment to breathe in deep, resisting the urge to claw at his own neck and chest as his pulse quickens and his heart beats harder against his ribs, as the insistent buzz under his skin grows even more insistent, like it’s trying to seek his attention over the throb of his migraine, over the ever-growing pain in his knee and his trembling hands and his dry throat and chapped lips and the keen desire to have you by his side.

Jason isn’t even exaggerating when he says it feels like it’s been years when he finally reaches the bed, practically falling down onto it. With shaky hands, he brings the mug to his mouth, breathing in the subtle sweetness through his nose before taking a sip of the tea, regretting it immediately when it feels as though molten lava is being poured down his throat, clogging it up to the point that Jason’s nose burns when he tries to force down the urge to choke.

Instead of being stupid and trying to drink any more of it, Jason decides to set the mug down on the bedside table so he can wait for it to cool down, his hand jerking when he sees something other than tea in it. Jason stares helplessly, frozen in place as liquid spills over the rim of the mug and trickles down its side, leaving a faint stain on it, the colour reminiscent of dried blood. He blinks when his eyes start to water, and the tea is its usual colour again, a rich, golden caramel.

Jason stares for a little while longer and then decides to get back into bed so he can wait, for both his tea and you. Curling up into a ball is easier said than done, especially when he can feel every single hair on his body rubbing against the sheets when he pulls them close to his chest, then yanks the covers over his head like he’s trying to smother the pain as he squeezes his eyes shut.

His last thought before unknowingly succumbing to the darkness of sleep, selfish as it might be, is that though he hates being so reliant upon you, though it makes him feel weak and not so different from a leech, asking for everything from you and giving nothing in return, he wants to hear your voice telling him that he will get through this, and that you’ll be with him every step of the way.

***

Jason awakes from his restless slumber to the sound of someone knocking on the bedroom door, even though he remembers leaving it open. He knows it’s you though, because you’re the only one who ever bothers knocking anymore, even if the door is open, in an attempt to give him the space he sometimes needs. He tries his best to focus through the pain and realises that you’re knocking in a pattern, the same pattern you established with each other a while ago to ask if he was okay.

Jason nearly bites through his lip to stop himself from crying out as he reaches an arm out from under the covers to knock on the wood of the bedside table thrice, the nauseatingly coppery taste of blood lingering on his tongue. He wants you to tell him everything is going to be okay, even though he knows it isn’t going to be that way for a while, if only to delude himself into thinking so.

“Jay? Are you having a day?” You call out softly, and the ringing in his ears doesn’t stop him from hearing you shuffle your feet. Jason ignores the sound of his teeth grinding together as he summons the energy to peek out at you, squinting at how you’re stood in the doorway, one hand on the doorknob with both feet firmly outside of the room. Somewhere deep inside him, past all the parts that scream with pain and hurt and anger, it warms him to see that you’ll still respect his boundaries.

He nods at you, regretting it when his migraine comes back with a vengeance. It feels like someone’s hammering at the inside of his head, trying to break out of it. “You okay with touching?” You whisper, finally stepping into the room.

He isn’t sure. Touching his thumb to his chin makes his skin burst into a flurry of sensation, and Jason only refrains from scratching at his face because he knows that you know he wants to do it, going by the stern look on your face. “Can try, but… not skin,” he rasps out, wincing at the way his voice sounds. It’s hoarse and raspy, like he’s been screaming for hours. He could’ve been, in his sleep.

You come closer, casually tugging a pair of gloves out of your pocket and sliding them on. Other than the fact that they’re very soft, the gloves aren’t anything special. When you first found out about the pain, it had been Jason wearing them so he wouldn’t scratch himself, but both of you quickly found out that the material was far too itchy against his sensitive skin, and now it’s you who wears them so that you can help him without accidentally touching his skin and sending him into a frenzy.

Jason watches you as you step in front of the bedside table and curl your hand around a mug that he hadn’t noticed until then. “Jasmine tea?” You ask him, and Jason holds his shaking hands out to take it, but you move it away and put the mug back down, shaking your head. “It’s gone cold. You must have made it before you went to sleep.”

“I—don’t remember,” Jason murmurs, suddenly feeling very lost. He thought you had made it for him. Your mouth twitches into a small frown as you study his face, and your hand rises like you’re about to touch him, faltering midway before falling back down to your side.

“I’m going to get you some water,” you say, waiting for Jason’s nod before leaving to do just that, and Jason knows you’re coming right back, but he somehow misses you even more now than he did when you were at work. His shoulders are tense until you return to his side with a small glass, half-full of water.

“Do you want me to hold it for you—”

“Can do it myself,” Jason interrupts you, insistent on doing at least this without having to be so dependent on you. But once the glass is in his hands, water keeps sloshing over the sides, his teeth clacking into it because of how much his hands are shaking. Your gloved hands come up to support his, holding the glass steady, and he does his best to shoot you a thankful look as he takes a careful sip. He’s sure it’s lukewarm, but it feels like shards of ice scraping against his throat, almost making Jason choke.

Once the glass is empty, you set it down with a clink and crouch down next to the bed, facing him. “Have you eaten?” You ask, and Jason just about manages to shake his head, feeling sick. Your frown deepens momentarily before smoothing out entirely as you stand up again, taking a few steps back so that you’re not looming over him.

His skin is itchy. He feels dirty. Jason doesn’t realise that he’s scratching until you say his name sternly, startling him when you place a gentle hand on top of his. Your eyes scan over his face, and you must see something on it because you straighten up, a somewhat determined look in your eyes as you slowly peel the covers off him, baring Jason’s body to the cold darkness of the bedroom.

“Bath time,” you tell him, a small smile on your face. Jason shivers violently.

“Dirty? Am I dirty?” He asks, vaguely aware of the fact that he’s slurring his words, focussing more on how hot his face feels. Your smile wavers and it feels like his blood is boiling inside him as you shake your head, muttering something to yourself about him getting worse.

“But—”

Jason looks down at his hands, which only shake even more when he sees crimson pooling in the crooks between his fingers, staining his cuticles red and drying into the lines of his cracked palms. Red drips from his fingertips, staining the sheets beneath him. He doesn’t want to touch you, to dirty you with his red hands.

“They’re dirty,” Jason says, showing you his hands, and you shake your head again.

“You’re not dirty,” you say out loud this time, looking Jason in the eye. “You’re having a bath because it’ll help with the pain,” you explain to him like he’s a child, but Jason can’t find it in himself to get annoyed. He shivers again, but this time it’s because of the sudden cold he feels, because of the goosebumps rising along the surface of his bare arms as the buzz under his skin roars for his attention.

“I’m not?” Jason asks, still hesitant, and you repeat yourself as your eyes flicker over his face, telling him that he isn’t dirty.

“Come on,” you gently coax him until Jason eventually pulls himself out of the safety of the bed, a whimper escaping from between his clenched teeth when his feet touch the floor and pain shoots through his body. Your eyes are glued to him, concern clearly written all over your face as Jason battles his way to the bathroom and then starts to undress as you fill the bathtub, resisting the urge to scratch as the fabric of his clothes drags uncomfortably over his skin.

He studies his trembling hands as you pour some odd-looking powder into the water, dipping your hand in and swirling it all together until you’re left with a slimy mixture. You turn to him with an expectant look on your face like you’re waiting for him to do something, and then it clicks, and Jason’s nose wrinkles as he presses his lips together in a thin line.

“Sweetheart, you need to actually get in for it to have any effect,” you remind him, a teasing undertone to your voice. Jason pulls a face and steps up to the tub, wincing as the muscles in his legs sprain when he tries to swing his leg over the edge to do as he’s been told. But you come up next to him, holding one of his hands as lightly as you can to support him as he manages to climb into the tub, slowly sinking down until he’s sat down and almost fully submerged.

For a moment, it’s almost too overwhelming for him, and then the continuous sensations of hot and cold and pain and numbness, of all too much and nowhere near enough, they all slowly ease. Jason sinks a little lower into the water, hands shooting out of the water to grip onto the sides of the bathtub so he can ground himself as he closes his eyes and leans his head back against the wall, slowly breathing out through his nose.

Jason isn’t sure if he’s relieved or terrified by how easy it was to get his body to just shut up, but doesn’t ponder on it, revelling instead at how he can now simply feel without hurting so much.

He must zone out for quite some time though because he ends up tuning back in to the sound of your voice, smooth and familiar as you tell him about your day at work. You aren’t holding his hand anymore, but are still sat on the rug next to the bathtub, watching him with sharp eyes.

Once again, Jason is reminded of the fact that you’re too good for him, too good for someone with blood on his hands and vengeance on his mind, for someone who is capable of feeling nothing but anger in his heart. Once again, he wonders why you choose to stay, why you keep choosing him even though everyone else in his life does the opposite.

There’s an odd look on your face when Jason turns to look at you. You don’t say anything, not pushing him, but wait for him to speak in his own time. He’s fiercely reminded of how much he loves you and swallows down the lump in his throat which threatens to choke him.

“They’re red,” he finally croaks out, and his tongue feels too big for his mouth. “My hands are red, and they’re always gonna be red with people’s fucking blood, because that’s all I’m good at. That’s all I can do.”

“Jay—” you start, frowning, but he cuts you off with a shake of his head which makes him feel like he’s about to throw up.

His bloody hands shake. “I’m never going to be clean,” Jason whispers, but even that is too loud for his overly sensitive ears. “When people look at Red Hood, at me, that’s all they are ever going to see. Blood on my hands.”

“Jason, baby,” you murmur, and Jason doesn’t think he’s ever heard your voice so soft before. He turns his head to look down when your gloved fingers graze the tips of his, even though it makes him feel like his brain is pounding violently against the inside of his skull.

You’re asking if you can hold his hand, and Jason takes in a deep breath as he slowly uncurls his fingers from the death grip they previously had around the edge of the bathtub, then flips his hand over so his palm is facing upwards.

You don’t cover it with your own like he’s expecting, but manage to slide yours underneath Jason’s so that you’re cradling his hand. He has to fight hard against the instinct to snatch it back.

“You wanna know what I see?” You ask as your eyes fall to his hand, but it isn’t really a question, and if it is, it’s clearly rhetorical. Your gloved fingertip traces over the lines in his palm, and it doesn’t hurt as much as Jason had thought it would. Instead of thousands of tiny needles piercing through the surface of his skin, it just feels like sharp little pinpricks of sensation.

He looks up at you, and you look right back at him with soft eyes and a softer smile. Jason’s pretty sure his heart skips a beat in the same way it always does when you smile at him. “I see strength, and I see kindness, and I see good.”

Your eyes lower to look at his hand again. “I see scars and callouses and bruised knuckles, and fingers that haven’t healed right after being broken. I see the hands of a man who has worked hard every single day of his life, who doesn’t stop working even though it hurts sometimes, because he’s just like that.”

Your eyes meet, and Jason has to take in deep breaths after seeing the fierce look in your eyes, even though his chest is painfully tight. “I see hands that disarm bombs and shoot guns and break assholes’ noses. Hands that help and protect and love, so, so much.”

Jason exhales shakily through his nose, eyes stinging. He doesn’t deserve this, he knows that. He’s known that he doesn’t deserve you since the moment he met you, since the first time he dared to utter your name with his unworthy tongue, to touch you with his undeserving hands.

But you make him sound like this wonderful person, somebody who actually deserves to have you and love you, and Jason doesn’t know how you can see him like that. He’s killed and tortured and hurt people, both physically and emotionally, he’s not good at all, but he couldn’t bear to lose you if you ever came to the realisation that you’ve been wrong about him all along.

Loving you is the best thing he’s ever done, the greatest choice he’s ever made, and the closest he can get to being good is being good to you. If that’s taken away from him, he’s doomed to an eternity of making the wrong choices.

“When I look at you, I see someone who is brave and gentle and strong. So strong,” you emphasise with the gentlest squeeze to his hand, almost like you think if you put too much pressure on it, his bones will cave in and shatter beneath your touch into dozens of tiny pieces, just like Jason’s heart does whenever you say things like this to him, like you actually mean it.

“I see a man who has been hurt by the world around him so many times, but he’s come out fighting every time.” Jason flinches at that, turning away so he can watch the condensation slowly forming on the tap, a single water droplet threatening to spill from it.

“Jay,” you whisper shakily, and he can hear the swell of emotion in your voice. But Jason knows that you’re not asking him to turn back and face you again, though he feels like he should so he can lean in and kiss any revealing traces of wetness off your face, even if it makes his lips feel like they’re being seared right off his face as he touches them to your soft skin.

“I wish you could see what I do when I look at you,” you admit, eyes no longer burning into the side of his face as you steady your voice again, sounding like you’re determined to prove it to him, that he’s worthy of your love and time.

“You deserve every good thing in this cursed world that we live in, and I wish I could give you that, but I can’t,” you say, voice cracking halfway through your sentence, and you sound truly heartbroken about it, about the fact that—that Jason deserves more, and he’s not getting it.

The water droplet leaks from the tap and lands on the bottom of the tub with a faint splat. Jason doesn’t hear it because he’s too busy staring at your glossy eyes, tears threatening to spill over the delicate tips of your eyelashes and down your face.

You blink and a tear runs down your cheek, just one, leaving a faint streak on your face as you breathe in deeply through your nose, trying to pull yourself together before you speak again. “All I can give you is my love and my time, and hope that that’s enough for you.”

You look back down at his hand cradled in yours again and there’s a faint smile on your face, like you know something he doesn’t. “These hands which you think are red? The same hands which you think will only ever ruin everything they touch? They’ve never hurt me.”

“These hands right here?” You say, shaking his ever so slightly, but not so much that it hurts. “They hold me when I’m happy and when I’m sad, when I’m angry and when I need to feel safe.” Your eyes meet his again, bright with warmth and determination. “My heart is in these hands, Jason, and you’ve never done it wrong. Ever.” Jason briefly considers arguing with you but he really doesn’t have the energy to—this bath is making him strangely sleepy.

But you must see the intent in his eyes because you shake your head and continue, just as stubborn as he is. That isn’t a bad thing, not at all. It’s why you work so well together.

“When I got into a relationship with you, I trusted you to take care of my heart, and that’s exactly what you’ve done,” you explain. “So all I’m asking is that you trust me to take care of you, because I know you deserve it, whether you agree with me or not.”

Jason stares at you and you stare right back, your smile growing ever wider as Jason’s eyes dart away and his cheeks warm slightly. He loves you so much.

“I think you ought to know,” Jason starts, meeting your eyes as water trails slowly down the back of his neck, making him want to claw at his skin, to press his nails into it and drag them along the surface until it’s raw and itchy and as red as his bleeding heart. “If it weren’t for the fact that the thought of touching someone’s skin makes me want to peel the fucking flesh right off my bones, I’d be kissing the shit out of you right now.”

Your wet eyes go soft again, as does your trembling smile. “I appreciate the sentiment,” you laugh, undeniably fond, and even after all this time, it makes Jason want to squirm a little. He refrains, but just barely.

You stare at each other for a little while longer until you speak up again, asking if you can wash his hair. It’s not that he needs to have his hair washed, but he enjoys the feeling of your fingers in his hair, adores the sound of your voice as you tell him a story or sing to him to replace the silence or distract him from the thoughts racing around his mind.

So naturally, he agrees, and soon enough, he’s facing the wall with you balanced on the edge of the bathtub, warning him before you scoop up a handful of clean water and pour it over his hair. You start to hum a simple song, briefly pausing to tell that you’re going to shampoo his hair before continuing.

He tenses up, trying to prepare himself for the feeling of being overstimulated when your hands land in his hair, but warmth tingles through him instead in the same way that it does whenever you touch him with no plans other than to love him, and really, Jason was a fool to expect anything else, seeing as you’ve only ever touched him with the best intentions in mind.

“I love you,” Jason murmurs quietly, and you don’t tease him by telling him you know that like you sometimes do. Like Jason himself did when he finally became comfortable with the fact that he loves you and you love him too.

In fact, you don’t say anything at all, still humming that same song as you gently massage your fingers through his thick hair, paying particular attention to his white streak. It occurs to Jason that maybe you didn’t hear him.

Or maybe you just somehow know like you always do that this was something he needed to say, that it was something he needed to learn for himself without finding out that you knew how he felt before he did, something that he needed to come to terms with so he could finally put a name to the way you make his heart try to punch out of his rib cage and right into your hands whenever you smile at him or say his name or praise him, or kiss his tears away and take him into your arms after he’s had a nightmare without a word of complaint.

“I love you,” he repeats anyway, hoping for you to understand, and you try your best, leaning in to press your mouth to the wet skin on the back of his neck, mouthing words against it that Jason can’t quite make out, but he’s pretty sure he can have a good guess. It makes him shiver again, but in a good way this time.

“I love you,” he says a third time, and now you get it. Now you hear what he’s really saying.

I love you. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for always choosing me. Thank you for helping me through this.

Your mouth curls into a smile against his skin. “I love you too, Jason,” you whisper, voice tender. And Jason hears what you’re saying too.

I love you. Thank you for letting me.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #dc #sfw #my fic

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roguish-gallery · 4 years ago

Note

Did you ever make that joker tier list, I always like seeing what people think of all the different ones. Though if they put Romero last I can no longer respect them.

LMAO I DID! I think I’ve made it kind of obvious in this blog but I... don’t... particularly... care... for... the joker.... unless he’s, y’know, fun to watch. Cause he’s a clown, and clowns are supposed to be entertaining. But since you politely brought it up, and and because I have a deep respect for mutual Romero-lovers, I guess this would be a good time to explain my rankings and just discuss my general thoughts on each clown:

General Thoughts:

For the most part, I don’t really care for the Joker. This is hardly an uncommon opinion here on tumblr, but I definitely fall on the side of the fandom that feels that he gets too much attention from DC. I get WHY they use him so often for films and comics, and I don’t have anything against *most* folks who consider them their favorite Batman villain, but at this point he’s used more for shock value and as a crutch instead of anything interesting. Like, instead of giving attention to the other Rogues, writers (at least for the comics) will try and make up some bullshit story that they can shoehorn the Joker into, ‘cause it sells. It’s tiring, and I feel like the character has lost his meaning; I can only read so many stories about the Joker, I don’t fucking know, wearing a suit made from dead babies and Jason Todd’s flayed corpse before I get sick of it.

I’m at the point where I’ll like any Joker who’s just fun to watch. I genuinely respect those who prefer darker interpretations of the character, but that isn’t me; I vastly prefer the lighthearted takes on him, because... at this point... writers who use the “cleaner” version of him tend to be more creative, since they actually have to write a Joker story that doesn’t rely on gore/torture porn.

TIER ONE:

Joker Baby: Self explanatory. Joker Baby is thematic, thoughtful, and intense. Everytime I watch this video, I shiver with fear and pleasure; something primal in me awakens whenever Joker Baby runs his fingers through his spray-on dyed hair, and ends up smearing green paint on his forehead- it represents the inner turmoil, the chaos, that resides within the disturbed body that is Joker Baby. Nothing can ever hope to top the artistic and cultural impact Joker Baby has had on society.

TIER TWO:

Batman Ninja: I genuinely believe that Batman Ninja is one of the most fun, organic, and creative things to come out from the Batman side of DC comics in like... hmmm... a decade, maybe (I could talk for hours about how much I love this movie but that’s something for a future post). This Joker is easily, and unironically my favorite interpretation of the character, period. I love his energy, his design, everything. This is the most fun I’ve ever had watching a Joker on-screen, and for that I’ve gotta give the film credit where it is due.

Batman ‘66: I looooove Caesar Romero. Batman ‘66 in general is one of my favorite pieces of Batman media, and I absolutely adore this Joker. The show is pure, genuine fun, and it’s nice to turn my brain off and watch a show where the entire cast was allowed to goof around. This Joker is just a cute, goofy little clown-man who likes to commit crimes, go surfing, turn Gotham’s water reserve into gelatin, and have wild orgies with Penguin, Catwoman, and the Riddler. I massively appreciate the hustle. I love his little mustache and his facial expressions. I’d give him a chaste little kiss on the cheek if I could.

The Batman: EXTREMELY CONTROVERSIAL TAKE BUT. I think TB!Joker is better than what people will give him credit for. I can only imagine how stressful it must have been to be the first Batman cartoon to follow BTAS and the writers for this show knew they were gonna be fucked no matter what they did with the Joker, so they just decided to try something completely different with him. Personally, I appreciate the new direction- he has a fun, unhinged energy. I’ve placed him higher than BTAS/BTNA!Joker simply because The Batman was the show that got me into the Rogues in the first place, and I’m just a bit closer to this Joker because of it. Also his vampire form was cool as FUCK in Batman Vs. Dracula and the scene where he gets drenched in blood at a blood bank is fucking awesome.

Batman the Animated Series/The New Adventures: Everyone loves BTAS’s Joker, and I’m no exception. Mark Hamill is fucking great, and the writers clearly knew the character well enough to create a version of him that can be fun and threatening. As an aside, I unironically like his redesign in BTNA- I remember Hamill mentioning somewhere that he thought it was neat that this Joker looked more like a shark (I’ll see if I can find a source on that... I think he said it in an interview with Kevin Smith?) and I kinda agree with him. the redesigns in the final season are hit or miss, but I didn’t get why so many people bitched about the Joker’s new look.

Batman Unlimited: Hear me out... Hear me out... Clown... funny... and cute... He wears a little crown and gives Solomon Grundy a little smooch on the cheek and it is as delightful as it sounds. Yes the Batman Unlimited films literally only exist to sell toys but that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy them on some ironic level.

TIER THREE:

Lego Batman: He’s a gay icon. He has the range. Enough said.

White Knight: This is just a genuinely good, original take on the character, and the art in White Knight is absolutely gorgeous.

Arkham: My friends and I joke that this Joker is basically a more unhinged version of BTAS! Joker and... yeah. I’m glad Hamill and Paul Dini got to fuck around with the character more, but I never really dwelled on the Joker parts of the games like I might have for other characters. I definitely liked him the most in Arkham Asylum, as he was more fun to watch. Arkham City was fiiiiine, but I think I replayed the game so much that I kinda got fatigued with everything about it. Genuinely hated his part in Origins, and I was pissed that he stole the attention from Black Mask and Bane (who’s the best fucking part of Origins IMO). I’ll admit that I... Haven’t... played... Knight yet (I have it on PC but my laptop is too wimpy to run it) but like... He’s dead at that point, so I’d assume he isn’t the main point of that game anyway. I love Mark Hamill and the fact I can personally beat the shit out of this Joker, so he’s ranked up pretty high for those reasons.

TIER FOUR:

Batman ‘89: TBH this Joker should be a rank higher, but I’m too lazy to hop onto PicsArt to change it. NIcholson was an excellent choice, and I apprecaite how this Joker makes use of the playful and unhinged aspects of the character. Also, his outfits are cute, and I love the museum scene.

Brave and the Bold: Technically this Joker SHOULD be ranked higher since he’s literally based on the more lighthearted comics in the 60′s but... ehhh... I haven’t really watched BATB so I don’t have any strong opinions on the show and how it handles the character. he’s ranked this high through beause I appreciate what they were going for.

Golden Age: The quality of comics are always subjective, based on the creative team behind them. Some I’ll like more, others less so, It’s kind of hard to rank the pre-52 comic version of the Joker because of this.

TIER FIVE:

Killing Joke: Read it, didn’t care for it. I acknowledge how massive the impact this comic had on... everything, but just because I recognize how important this graphic novel is, doesn’t mean I have to like it.

The Dark Knight: Ledger did an excellent job with the role, but uhh... I’m kind of sick of the alt-right chuds who are out there sucking this Joker’s dick. The fanbase definitely ruined the character for me.

TIER SIX:

99′: Eh

Endgame: No

Suicide Squad: NO

Death of the Family: Hate him. Despise him. Lame stupid dumb little edgy bitch.

Gotham (Jeremiah): I don’t particulary care for Gotham in general, but the only reason I ranked this Joker over Jerome is beause I thought it was kinda funny to see that they made him a little rat-man, and I liked watching all the fujoshi on here cry and complain that they can’t ship this version of the joker with the pre-pubescent Bruce Wayne in the show bc he’s too ugly.

Gotham (Jerome): stop shippping this freak (who is fucking eighteen years old) with a literal twelve year old child. what the FUCK is wrong with yall.

UNRANKED:

The Joker (2019): I don’t plan on watching this film, nor will I ever. I know this is ironic, coming from someone who runs a Rogue blog, but stuff that focuses primarily on a character’s deteriorating mental health makes me reaaaaallllllyyyyy anxious (it’s kind of a phobia) and considering that I don’t particularly the Joker, I have no reason to watch something I know will only give my dumb ADHD-ass intrusive throughts.

#tier list #this was nice to finally write out- I don't typically write Joker stuff unless someone prompts it #the joker #gonna tag this as discourse just to hopefully keep it out of ppl's feed #bc i know how... defensive... joker fans... can get...#discourse #long post

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diyunho · 7 years ago

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The Joker x Reader - “Mommy” Part 4

It was a well known fact The Joker’s girlfriend left him with four young children and disappeared. It was also known that his ex stepped up and took care of them even if she didn’t have to. The King of Gotham might have lost his woman, but he never lost his Queen.

Part1 Part2 Part3 Part 5

Another fight with The Joker and you didn’t have the patience to wait for the elevator; you just took the stairs, wanting to be far away from him as fast as possible.

“Mommy left,” Kase whispers to his siblings, noticing you stormed out of the penthouse.”She took Emma,” the six years old reports to the other children that stopped playing and look at their father, knowing that he must be the reason why this happened again.

“Don’t come back!!! Do you hear me?” J shouts, going back inside his office. He continues to mumble and slam stuff around even if you are not there anymore to participate in the fight.

“Whe’s mommy?” Mia squeezes her doll, stepping over the toys scattered around in the left corner of the living room.

“Mommy’s gone,” Kase repeats and Zane whimpers, already upset:

“I want my mommy. Where did she go?”

His twin is on the verge of crying:

“Is she coming back?”

Zane lifts his shoulders up, confused.

“Oh,” Mia bends over and picks up one of the teddy bears laying on top of a pile of Legos, handing it over to Aiden: the little girl saw his teary eyes and tries to soothe her brother.“Fo’ you, ok?”

Aiden wipes his eyes, accepting the gift from his three years old sister.

The kids don’t like it when you’re not around: they are very fond of their mother and old enough to understand daddy says things that make her go away.

You actually drove straight to your house, grabbed some baby supplies and went to the mall with Emma. After aimlessly walking around for about an hour, you retreat to a quiet lounge and start breastfeeding her. You love looking in her bright little eyes and kiss the tiny fingers while she eats. You couldn’t do this for the other children since you are not their biological mother; they were raised on formula because Anya didn’t like to take care of them. And it suddenly hits harder because this was on your mind since you left the penthouse: the kids probably wonder where you are.

A mother needs her babies. All of them.

You take your cellphone out of your jacket, careful not to disturb your three weeks old and press on the first name in “Contacts”: The Joker. He answers instantly.

“It’s me…I want to talk to the children.”

“NO!” and he hangs up.

Great, he’s going to be a total jerk…

You try again. He picks up after the first ring.

“J, let me talk to…” “NO!” and you get the dial tone once more.

You sigh, evaluating your options. Not too many.

You call him again.

“Where’s my daughter?” he barks before you have a chance to say anything.

“She’s with me, of course!” you mutter through your clenched teeth. “Where else?!”

“Bring her back!” “I don’t want to see you, J. I just want to talk to the children!”

“Don’t think so!!” he yells in the phone and hangs up again.

“Seriously?!” you talk to yourself at this point, staring at your cell.

Back at the penthouse, The Joker tosses his phone on the desk, irritated you keep on bothering him. Why do you want to talk to the kids?! You’ve only been gone for about 2 hours.

Like he understands your need to hear their voices and the fact that you already miss them.

After half an hour, J realizes something is weird: so quiet in the penthouse…too quiet. It’s never this silent with a bunch of offsprings around.

“Kase?” he shouts, carefully listening.

No answer.

“Aiden?”

Nothing.

The Joker gets off his chair and goes to the living room. The children are not there. He looks around, going to the second floor. No trace of them. Did they take the elevator? They know they are not supposed to use it. Nope; still there, the doors opened. Balcony? Nobody there either. Did they take the stairs? Better check, it’s the only other option. J keeps on descending until he hears them talk, quickens the pace and finally catches up with them.

Kase is leading the pack, carrying a small bottle of water; probably the oldest figured out they need some kind of supplies for their quest. Behind him, Mia is stepping down the stairs just one at a time since her feet are too small. Zane is holding her right hand and Aiden her left, helping the little Princess. They have been gone for a while, yet only made it to the 24th floor: it’s a slow process.

Surprisingly, none of the henchmen bumped into them yet – they are required to patrol the whole building regularly.

“Where are you guys going?” the kids hear their father and stop, turning to face him. The Joker notices they have no shoes on, just socks.

“To find mommy,” Kase candidly answers.

“Why, is she missing?!” J sarcastically asks and the kids are too young to understand his sassiness.

“I want my mommy…” Zane whimpers and The King of Gotham realizes the boy’s jeans are wet:

“You are The Joker’s son !” J huffs, “and you peed your pants?!”

If you were present you would probably roll your eyes and make a comment similar to: “What does being The Joker’s son has to do with anything?! He’s only four and a half and accidents happen ! ” Since you’re not here though, nobody to underline the obvious.

“Sorry daddy,” Zane remorsefully sniffles, upset his parent is interrupting the search party.

Mia sticks out her tongue and J sneers, displeased.

“How dare you?! Got your mom’s attitude, hm?” J snatches the little girl, aware she is the weak link and it will take forever if he waits for her to walk upstairs. “And straight into the bathtub with you, understand?” he addresses Zane. “As soon as we get back home, you’ll spend 10 minutes in time out, got it?” The Joker announces the punishment to his daughter and Mia’s eyes get big.

You actually came up with this: when the kids don’t behave, you make them face one of the corners of the penthouse for a limited time; they are not allowed to talk or look at each other. For some reason, they believe it’s the worst thing that can happen to them, which works when discipline is needed.

The three boys are silently following their father, worried they will get in trouble also.

Mia wiggles in J’s arms, fake crying for a few seconds; J pretends not to hear. She wraps her arms around his neck tighter, kissing his cheek.

“No, da’yy, no corner, ok? Mia’s good, ok?”

Every time she says ”ok”, her voice goes really high pitch.

“How are you good?! You showed me your tongue!”

“Noooo, da’yy, no, no, no…” she pouts, caressing his face. “Mia’s good, ok? No corner, ok?”

“You sound like a broken record,” the Joker mumbles and the little Pumpkin puckers her lips, not understanding what he means.

“ I ‘ove you da’yy, ok? No corner for Mia,” and she rests her chin on his shoulder, waving at her brothers. The Clown Prince of Crime feels warmer and the only thing he can remember for the moment is how disappointed and mad he was after finding out Mia wasn’t his daughter.

“Nice strategy,” J gently pats her back and she whispers in his ear:

“So’yy da’yy, OK? No corner, OK?”

The Joker takes a deep breath, oblivious she got under his skin a long time ago.

“Why did you stick out your tongue?… Show me again!” he growls and Mia obeys, shyly blinking.

“Such a nerve, just like your mom,” a frustrated parent concludes, reckoning you should be there to witness the ordeal.

Finally back to the penthouse and Zane is send to undress for his bath. The cute Doll is set free and she runs to the other two brothers, returning by her father’s side after a few seconds.

“Da’yy, I need to go potty.”

“Well…go!” J urges and Kase speaks up:

“She needs help daddy.”

“Great!!” the drama takes a new turn but the exasperated parent grabs her hand, heading towards the second restroom downstairs. “Where’s your mother?” comes out of his mouth for the lack of a better sentence. Such a useless question: your boyfriend knows exactly where you are and why you left in the first place; entirely his fault, not that he would admit to it.

After helping the little girl, J goes to turn on the water in the other bathroom where Zane awaits in the bathtub; the water gets higher and the splashing exponentially intensifies.

“Hey, sit down and behave!” The Joker admonished and his son giggles, splattering in his dad’s direction. Water gets on J’s brand new Armani outfit: dark purple pants and a silver shirt, half unbuttoned of course.

He gasps, stunned.

“On my new clothes?!”

More water aimed his way and patience runs out:

“You asked for it brat !!” and he leans over, splashing Zane, not because he wants to play around, but because he wants to pay back such an affront. The little one screams with delight, jumping up and down in the huge bathtub which prompts his siblings to check on the noise. Oh my God, why weren’t they invited to the party?!

The other three children run directly in the bathtub with their clothes on before J can stop them. They laugh and scream, excited and happy to horse around, pushing one other and splattering water all over the place. At this point, The Joker is soaked and so are the kids; takes him a good 20 minutes before he manages to calm them down and get them out of the water.

He has to go change his clothes and dress the four misbehaving mini-Jokers with dry clothes too. Clearly not what he had in mind for today!

“Daddy, I’m hungry,” Aiden fidgets while J finishes putting on his t-shirt.

“Stay still !” the struggling parent yanks at his son’s outfit. “I’ll get you something to eat, alright?”

Big surprise: apparently everybody’s hungry, including himself. He gathers the kids at the big table in the living room, placing a bunch of food in front of them. J starts eating and the children look at each other, confused.

“What now?!” The Joker sighs, chewing on his chicken salad.

“Ummm…Mommy cuts the crust,” Aiden shows the clueless father the stack of sliced bread.

“So?! Just eat, it’s fine!”

There’s whimpering, some faded protesting and explanations, prompting J to lose his cool.

“Fine! Fine! I’ll cut the crust, are you happy now?!” he angrily fulfills the request, watching them take a few bites before the kids stare at him again, waiting.

“Yeeees?” he exhales, giving them a mean glare.

“Mommy puts the olives in cups for us,” Kase bites on his lip.

“Why can’t you eat olives from your plate, huh?”

More justifications, whining and reasons he does not understand, enough to make The King of Gotham annoyed.

“Yeah, whatever! Just eat ! Or do you want to spend a few minutes in time out?”

The kids listen to him and munch on the food, scared they will be punished.

“I want my mommy,” Mia rubs her eyes, upset.

“Me too,” Zane sniffles, chasing a cherry tomato on his plate with the fork.

“Mommy!!!!” Aiden shouts, seeing you enter the living room with Emma in your arms. Nobody heard the elevator: too preoccupied with the eventful day and your absence.

All four children rush and hug your legs, talking in the same time; something about bread crust and olives, difficult to understand since voices overlap.

“Just look who decided to grace us with her presence,” J stabs at his salad, impertinence surfacing right away.

“Why didn’t you answer your phone?! I was worried something happened!” you bend over to kiss the kids and they cling to your neck, fighting to get your affection.

You’ve been trying to reach him without success for the last hour and a half.

“I was busy, OK?!” he points his finger at you, mad. “I thought I told you not to come back!”

You wouldn’t know, but J is relived you returned without further action from his part.

“I came for my babies!” you frown, limping towards the table since the four brats won’t let go. “I was afraid they got hurt or something!”

He wouldn’t know how happy you are to see the children; you missed them and… sort of missed him also. Just a little bit, almost inexistent urge…

“Maybe you should have worried about it before you left !” J spits out, signaling for Emma. She’s awake, looking completely adorable in the yellow onesie with lady bugs and pink flowers. You hand her over wishing to make some comments, yet the kids keep on talking and reporting what occurred in the measly 4 hours you were gone.

J keeps on gazing at Emma, loving the fact that she has blue eyes. He doesn’t realize you made the kids sit at the table and you’re eating with them now, too absorbed by his three weeks old. Blissfully unaware she got under his skin the moment she was born, just like the rest of his children. How could he know? The Joker always thinks he hates everybody, no other feelings inside his heart besides disgust and animosity towards the world.

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

He is back in the office, but the non-stop giggling going on in the living room is very distracting. J stops typing on his computer and peeks outside, curious to find out the source of the commotion.

The five munchkins are lined up on the floor, from the youngest to the oldest and you are doing push-ups on top of them, moving from one child to the next. Every time you go down, you kiss them and blow raspberries on their necks, prompting laughter and impatient screams. Emma is the only one not overjoyed with what her mom is doing, way too young to savor the game. She is cozy on her fluffy pillow, eyelids getting heavy.

Behind the cracked door, The Joker is pleased to see you are wearing the new work-out outfit he got you last week with matching Adidas shoes. J decides to join his family, indifferently bringing one of his laptops and crushes on the couch, spying on the fun.

He couldn’t stay away from the chaos in his life even if he’d try.

Seems you are done with the push-ups and Mia is the first one to get up, approaching her father and trying to get his attention. She softly steps on his shoe, waiting.

“What is it?” he asks, confused.

The little girl does it again.

“They like to imitate what I do when I work out,” you disclose, not necessarily wanting to talk to him. “You know I’ve been trying to teach them self-defense before I got pregnant and I now can reprise my routine; she’s showing you what she’s learned.”

“Great skills,” J smirks, tucking Mia’s hair behind her ears. “Are you going to defend daddy if Batsy comes?”

“U-hum !” she nods a yes even if she has no clue what he’s referring to.

“Good girl,” the smirk gets wider and he kisses her forehead, somewhat amused. The boys see their sister is getting attention from daddy and come over, climbing on his knees. There is not enough space and they start fighting. Surprisingly, The Joker doesn’t chase them away and closes his laptop, setting it aside while striving to make space for all four.

This is something to be taken advantage of.

“Can you please put the kids to sleep?” you take Emma in your arms, the precious treasure already napping. “ I’m going to take a shower,” you lay her in the baby basket, covering the tiny body with the warm blanket.

“Yeah… I will,” J agrees and you are fast to go before he changes his mind.

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

It took The Joker some time to put the overly energetic offsprings to sleep, but he achieved tonight’s goal. How come you didn’t show up yet?!

You actually fell asleep downstairs in your recliner after the shower, wanting to watch TV; didn’t even make it to the first commercial break of the movie and you’re out, exhausted. Very tired these days, especially with waking up at night every 2-3 hours to feed Emma. And four more kids to take care of, plus a difficult boyfriend to deal with. He’s lucky you love him, that’s all you have to say about it.

“Hey Y/N, wake up,” he taps on your cheek. “Come on, let’s go upstairs.”

You mumble half words and turn on your side.

“Come on,” he pulls you in his arms and strains to lift you up. “Jesus, woman, you’re heavier,” the complaint follows and you wrap your legs around his waist, not opening your eyes.

“I just had a baby,” you keep your head on his shoulder, yawning.

“I didn’t say anything about that; you’re making up things,” J gazes at your face close to his, studying your features; he really liked the glow you had when you were pregnant with Emma.

Such a strange feeling in his heart while carrying you towards the master bedroom… Is it love?… Impossible. Absurd. Ridiculous. Not in a million years! Hate?…Probably. Unmistakably. Definitely. What else could it be?!

Your legs weaken around him as you lose your grasp on reality and he lifts you higher, making you open your eyes.

“Mmmm, lemme sleep,” you protest, almost at the destination.

“Hey Y/N, I think we should have another baby,” he whispers and you’re suddenly alert, lifting your head to look at him. That smile blooming on your face makes him uncomfortable.

“You mean it?” and it sounds you’re about to cry.

“Being a mother suits you so yes, I mean it,” The Joker gets you in bed, crawling besides his girlfriend. You can’t utter another word and he has no problem continuing the conversation on his own. “If you have a second baby, will things get saggy? Will your boobs get down to your knees?” You burst out laughing, still emotional about his proposition.

“Maybe just down to my bellybutton.”

“I can deal with that,” J chuckles to hide how mesmerized he is by your teary eyes.

“There is nothing I wouldn’t do for the children,” your smile gradually fades under the burden of anxiety. “ I fear for them, because of who they are…”

“I know…” he traces your lips, sulking. “But I’m here and you’re here…right?”

“Nowhere else I’d rather be,” you admit, cuddling to him.

“Except the mall,” The Joker teases and hears you snicker on his chest even if you’re still worried. “Go to sleep,” he turns off the lamp, only the baby monitor blinking in the darkness.

The same eerie darkness surrounds a deserted warehouse outside the town where several parties are meeting to plot the murder of everyone closest to The Joker: his children and his woman. And maybe take him down also if the occasion arises.

Gotham has no idea what The King and Queen of Gotham are capable of in order to protect what’s theirs, but the damned city is about to find out.

Also read: MASTERLIST

http://diyunho.tumblr.com/post/153664676321/joker-x-reader-masterlist

#the joker x reader #the joker fanfiction #the joker jared leto #the joker imagine #the joker #jared leto #joker #joker fanfiction #the suicide squad #joker suicide squad #joker x reader #mister j #mistah j #mr. j #puddin #dc #dc comics

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burningcollectionsandwich · 7 years ago

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telltale batman headcanons

• John went slightly insane with a soap dispenser he finds in the train station bathrooms, sending bubbles everywhere, until Harley comes in, smashes the soap dispenser with her hammer and drags a disappointed john out by the arm • The reason why bane never takes his mask of is because his facial muscles have become that large that his mask is literally stuck on his head • Whenever Mr freeze is talking about science stuff, riddler would get jealous over how smart Mr freeze is then he is and would immediately shout “shut up papa smurf!” • John falls out of bed every morning due to Harley waking him up by slamming her hammer on his room door just to scare him • Bruce would sometimes get lost in Wayne major and has to call Alfred to come get him • When the pact gets bored, they would play games like arrow roulette (it normally ended with bane pulling a muscle and tripping over, Mr freeze landing in a puddle freezing it in the process, cat woman watching where the arrow is and ends up running into a pole, john is stood in the middle laughing until Harley has to run back in and drag him out the middle, and riddler ends up getting hit by the arrow) • Every time he lost to a game of checkers, john would flip the table, sending playing pieces everywhere. The same thing happens when he wins. • When Harley applies her makeup, she would sometimes sneeze, sending makeup powder everywhere • John acts younger than his actual age because due to him not remembering his past/name/age, he thinks he’s younger than he actually is, hence the reason why he acts younger • Bane would sometimes drive up to the country side just to steal tires off tractors, due to the tires he punches repeatedly breaking • John played a lot of pranks on riddler (sometimes with the help of Harley if she wasn’t in a bad mood). For example, pouring water on him then throwing flour on him, or drawing moustaches on his face when he was sleeping, and that’s why riddler spent most days in his secret hide out. • Harley has tried to diagnose john with a mental disorder after they joined the pact, but has repeatedly failed due to his behaviour around her and others. She gave up on the case study • John doesn’t really realise what he’s wearing/dressed like due to not having a mirror in his little house. He just grabs random clothes, forgets to tuck the other side of his shirt in his trousers, puts on odd shoes and socks, and slicks his hair back, missing a small speck of hair while thinking “meh, this will do” • Whenever the pact needs to create a distraction in order to get past agents/guards, john would automatically jump up, playing really loud songs on his phone and start randomly dancing (sunglasses included) while the others sneak past (it would probably be something like that family guy safety dance diversion scene except not with a fake moustache, just his gold/brown sun glasses) • When Bruce visited john in Arkham, he gave him a get well soon card similar to the card john gave Bruce at the funeral, which caused john to automatically randomly start crying (john cry’s a lot in the game) • When a store worker realised that some clothes were missing from the display, they found a little note saying “FOR THE GREATER GOOD – joker” • After the end fight on the vigilante root, I can imagine joker and batman just sitting, staring awkwardly at each other, until joker says “sooooooo………isn’t it weird how I can still move my fingers with a batarang through my hand?” edit I had this weird thought, "what would bruce do if he found an extremely drunk john (like more drunk then the scene in Harley's office) at the bar?" and I came up with the scenario: bruce walks into the bar and sees john sat at a table whos rocking back and forth a little bit. bruce sits down opposite john, and john looks at him with his eye half shut as if hes about to pass out at any moment. I can imagine john hardly saying anything because hes that drunk, just talking in slow motion with slurred speech like "...........bbbbbbbb......bbbrrrrrrrrrrrrruce". all the sudden john hiccups and face palms the table, bruce asks if hes alright and john gives him a thumbs up, with his face still on the table. the scene just ends with bruce helping john actually stand up outside the bar with a cell phone in his hand talking to Harley like: Harley: "heya rich boy" bruce: "uh Harley we have a umm a bit of a problem" Harley: "did john get out and get drunk at the bar again?" bruce: "..........yeah" Harley: "*deep sigh* alright ill be there in five minutes, make sure he doesn't wonder off" bruce: "I......don't think that will be a problem..." i can also imagine johns favourite song being "bat out of hell" by meat loaf, and when he plays the song, he plays it really loudly on his phone while playing air guitar when he's in his little house or home/train station alone (for whoever doesn't know what air guitar is, its like your playing guitar.....but without the guitar. yar I'm not good at explaining stuff) when i was playing telltale batman season 2, my brother walked and randomly asked "does that train station have any baths or showers? because everyone looks really clean" and I paused the game and I just sat there looking at him like ".....................why the hell are you asking me this?", so me and him made up a scenario: john is sitting in his little house, his clothes covered in dust, dirt and cobwebs due to the train station being kinda old, reading a book until Harley walks in and says "hey john, come out here for a sec". so john follows and Harley tells him to stand in place and don't move. johns confused but he doesn't question it, until hes knocked over by a massive blast of water, cuts to Harley holding one of those hoses that you find on fire engines, that connected to a fire hydrant. john stands up, completely drentched and harley just turns around saying "whos next?" and it just cuts to bane, freeze and riddler running away. and that's why john wears different outfits in season 2. (john with wet hair probably looks like jokers hair from injustice 2 or something or when the jokers hair does infront of his face when Barbra shouts in his ear using a megaphone in the lego batman movie (john and the lego joker are the same person I swear to god)) when ever john gets angry or sad/upset in Arkham, dr Leland would confort him (stuff like pat on the shoulder or back, hugs, words. I don't know) as dr Leland is the only doctor john can actually stand in Arkham

when the villain joker was shaving his eye brows, he sneezed and ended up shaving one of his eye brows off

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i-should-be-drawing · 8 years ago

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LEGO BATMAN HEADCANNONS - PART 2

oh wOW I DIDN’T EXPECT FOR PEOPLE TO LIKE THE FIRST BATCH SO MUCH???? plus I love making these so I really wanted to make more so here we go:

Dick is afraid of downwards escalators. This came from him getting his cape stuck while going for a step and getting stuck. It was only for a few seconds but he may as well be scarred for life. He’ll only ride them if Bruce is there.

For some reason, doctors actually have to give Bruce twice as much anesthetic during operations. This can only go as well as you might expect, with him acting drunk for ages until it wears off. This is a lot of fun for his friends, however. Barbra makes sure she’s recording at all times and insists on taking him to parties everywhere to watch him go crazy, “hhEEYYY, THIS BUILDING IS SO... big” “that’s your company building Bruce”. He insists on laying with Alfred like he’s five and constantly gives him hugs (he called him dad once.) The first time he saw Dick he started to cry and kept saying “my beautiful baby son. look at u. my child.” until he saw a picture of Joker. Everyone lost it once he started drunk-hitting on the picture and uses the video they took of it as blackmail.

Barbra takes Dick shopping with her because he gives the best fashion advice. “GURL, THAT DRESS IS SO YOU!” “Honey this isn’t your color” She jokingly calls him Randy, after the show they watch together (Say Yes to the Dress) because of his godly advice.

If you’re anywhere near Wayne Manor on April Fool’s Day, r u n. There is an ever-going prank war going on for the next 24 hours and it’s dangerous.

Also, bat/bird puns???? All day. Every day. It could be the absolute worst thing you’ve ever heard but both of them die at each one. “Look, those crooks are ROBIN’ the bank again!” “Bat they might be armed, it’s too dangerous!” You could hardly believe how they manage to do their jobs.

Try to play any Queen song near the batfam. They all instantly explode into song and go the whole way through. They have the parts picked out already, too. “Toxic” is also a popular one.

Joker cries over fandoms with Harley at least once a week. They live for the sweet discourse in almost any fandom imaginable. Cartoon, music, movies... their lives are ruined.

Every villain in Gotham would fight Batman at every possible chance, but they won’t lay a finger on Robin. Not only will Batman beat the crap out of them if they do, Robin is buds with almost anyone and they enjoy his company too much to actually harm him. They turn into stormtroopers and miss every single shot on purpose if Robin’s too close.

Joker constantly imagines himself inside of dramatic music videos and acts them all out in real life.

When Bruce gets sick his voice does a complete 180 and he sounds like a chipmunk. He tries not to go and fight crime like this since it’s possible his opponent with die laughing before any one of strikes does the job.

Bruce will only plant a kiss on Dick’s head if, and only if, he’s sleeping. He’s not yet comfortable to do it while he’s awake and tries to keep it secret, but Alfred sees all. One night, right when Dick is about to fall asleep, Alfred whispers, “Don’t worry, master Bruce, I’m sure you’ll make his year.” Bruce isn’t afraid anymore.

Bruce insists on taking Robin to every party he gets invited to just to brag about him to his friends. He is hellbent on the fact that no child could ever surpass Dick, and even if one could he could always beat them in a fight to the death anyway so it doesn’t even matter.

Bruce and Dick often reenact the “when mom isn’t home” (saxophone guy and his kid) video. Dick broke the oven door going on three times now.

When the batfam can’t decide on what to do they always resort to “Don’t Laugh” challenge. Alfred is the reining champion. Barbra usually comes close, but ends up failing listening to the others desperately making noises to hide their laughter. Dick never gets past the first video as he’s just too happy all the time, and surprisingly neither does Bruce. Something about the whole situation just makes his willpower melt away and turns him and Dick into giggly maniacs.

Bruce calls Dick a bunch of pet names whenever he cries. “Baby Bird”, “Red Robin” and of course “Boy Wonder” work the best. Dick has names for Bruce too, such as “Batty”, “Masked Millionaire” and “Murciélago”.

Robin is at the top of his Spanish class.

#lego batman #the lego batman movie #tlbm #lego batman spoilers #batjokes #headcannons

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boyshoujo · 7 years ago

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julian gets friendzoned in asra's route

does this mean they never dated or did asra dump him……………………..i’m tired n honestly ready 2 knock out so i’ll play it tomorrow lol

i just found out that michael jackson is a virgo and i kinda feel better about my sign??

and beyonce !!!!!! 💃💃💃 wait why did u ever feel bad about being a virgo??? 👀 virgo is the BEST SIGN ????? TBH ???? virgos r fun and hip ?????? 👏 👏 👏 👏 👏

WHUT THE FUCK I TAKE THAT BACK I DONT WANT THIS SIGN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BASHAR AL ASSAD IS A VIRGO TOO AND IM DISGUSTED WITH MYSELF AND THIS SHITTY SIGN!!!!!!!!!!!! WHY DO I HAVE THE SAME SIGN AS SATAN YIKES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

he’s unevolved????? and canceled???? like raphael?????? he’s a disgrace to the virgo brand???????? there’s bad people in every sign but they’re just Bad and unrelated?????? christopher columbus (first european guy to ‘’’’discover’’’’ the americas) was a scorpio but also a mass murderer, r*pist, slave trader and UGLY ASS HOE but imma glo up??? and be better than him????? and piss on his grave????????? he’s off brand and #Ugly and canceled????? aT LEASRT YOU’RE NOT A CANCER????? lol

k but i think its weird that i have the same birthday as muriel(the bucky guy with tiddies)??????

wow…… hes ripped, got a choker/chains n his nips r out ? virgo icon :/ apparently he’s 6′10??? what the HECK LMAOwait i just checked his tag in the official blog….. is ur birthday on september 10th??????……….. 👀 wow happy belated birthday ??????? 🎉🎉🎉

i don’t even know u but here i am telling you my “suffering stories” and the drama in my life and honestly, i talk about the drama in my life whenever i meet someone new and i don’t even start with “normal talk” like hobbies and boring shit like that, i straight up tell them about that time my aunt “accidentally” got lost and how she blamed me and my brother??? saying that we were “mean” to her even tho we were just 8!!! and we didn’t even talk to her!! so anyway why don’t u tell me abt urself??

FLKKJFLKJSF ur asking about me but ? i dojn’t even know her??? i’m a boring ass b*tch who likes talking about the weather and hobbies????? (i’m so boring that i don’t even have hobbies lmao??????) i don’t know??? i’m a 20yo art student from ca, usa ??? i can’t read?? i like the smell of newborn babies and dog feet and hospitals???? when i was in kindergarten or something i saw a news report of some grown ass children who had to go the ER bc they got beads stuck in their noses, and i was like WOW WHAT A BUNCH OF DUMBASSES LOL I WOULD NEVER and then 3 days later i had to go to the er to get a bead removed from my nose last year i went to the ER because i had eye issues and this HOT 🔥🔥🔥 doctor had to give me numbing eye drops and was touching my eyes and stuff which is HOT in concept but horrible irl lmaoi somehow convinced myself that i was gonna die or somethin and was crying but then he comes back in and sighs and tells me i have a stye lmaoit was embarrassing but it’s ok bc i caught a bunch of pokemon in there

tbh i only like dc and its bc of batman, like when i was a kid he was literally my hero and whenever i was about to do something wrong i always asked myself: “would batman ever do this?” and the answer was no, and i hated the joker?? cuz i had a lego batman game and the joker was one of the antagonists in the game and whenever i reach the last level (it wasn’t the last but yknow what i mean) this fucker would throw bombs and shit and i couldn’t beat that m8……….. but i managed to in the end

“would batman ever do this?” FKLJFLKDJDF now whenevr u send werid spaghetti fucker asks i can say “would batman send this to me? would batman be proud of you rn? :/ (no)”

#Anonymous #arcana anon

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diyunho · 7 years ago

Text

The Joker x Reader - “Mommy”

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

You had no idea why The Joker kept on getting her pregnant; she definitely didn’t like to take care of their children nor had any interest in them. But it was none of your business so you kept your mouth shut. J wanted you to continue to work for him and you had no objections: he trusted his ex and you loved what you were doing so it was fine.

They were always fighting and his girlfriend disappeared for days and sometimes even weeks without a phone call or text. The Joker would ask you to babysit Kase while he searched for Anya; the baby was adorable and you didn’t mind.

Even when she was home, you still had to keep an eye on the little one because that woman would simply neglect to change or feed him. J would snap and they would get in such heated arguments you were surprised they didn’t kill each other yet. If The King of Gotham was the one realizing his kid was lacking the proper nurture, you clearly don’t have too much going on in the motherhood department.

It broke your heart when you would go over to the penthouse and find Kase crying in his crib, hungry and really needing his diaper changed. J was gone with business and she would wonder off God knows where as soon as you stepped inside.

“Oh great, you’re here!” Anya would roll her eyes and sneaked out, leaving without any other explanation.

“Hey buddy, don’t cry. I’m here now,” you used to comfort him and the baby would stop crying as soon as he was changed and fed. Kase sure got a lot of kisses and snuggles since you felt sorry for the poor tiny soul. I mean, what fault did an innocent child had in any of it? None. Absolutely none.

One month after giving birth to the twin boys, Anya was nowhere to be found: three small beings left at their absent mother’s mercy. This time, J didn’t have to ask you to get involved: you offered and he didn’t object. It was exhausting to tend to a toddler and two newborns but you had all the supplies you needed plus help whenever required.

The Joker searched for his woman like crazy and finally found her in Los Angeles and brought her home again. At that point, you were basically staying at the penthouse, raising kids that weren’t yours yet you couldn’t help it. You were attached to them and had the feeling they would end up dead without somebody to care for them.

“Why is she here, hm?” you would hear Anya shout in the middle of the night, the argument escalating with alarming velocity. “Are you fucking her again?”

“I’m not fucking her !!!” he would yell back and it was true. “My ex-girlfriend is here taking care of our children because you don’t !!”

“Why don’t you take care of them? I didn’t get pregnant on my own now, did I?!”

You were sleeping upstairs in the same bedroom with the twins and had to close the door in order not to hear anything anymore. Thank goodness Zane and Aiden were actually pretty good babies, didn’t wake up very often and noise didn’t seem to bother them.

But it pissed you off she was such an ungrateful person! Anya had no idea how many dates you canceled in order to be a surrogate mother to her kids. Your boyfriend lost his patience and dumped you simply because you couldn’t abandon your self-imposed maternal duties.

You and Frost were in charge of J’s security, but you found yourself in charge of his offsprings also. And the bitch was getting on your nerves with her irresponsible and entitled behavior.

When she got pregnant the third time, you got mad. Another kid ??!! Because, you know, things were so great with the first 3!!

Mia was born on a Sunday and Anya vanished two weeks after having her. You were the one that find the note on the kitchen table: “Don’t try to find me, I’m not coming back. Keep the kids.”

The Joker had a terrible fit but didn’t pursuit the idea of going after her, which surprised you in a way. Who knows what was going on in his mind; you didn’t bring up the sensitive subject and J didn’t elaborate more than a few sentences about it.

The Clown Prince of Crime definitely wasn’t the epitome of fatherhood, but he made sure the babies had everything they needed. This desire was mostly coming only from his strong sense of possessiveness: he just knew that they belonged to him and that was it. Besides that, J was completely lost and unable to show anything but very basic emotions, if you could even call them that.

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

When you are away, the little ones miss you. You just came back after a 5 days trip to New York so the kids follow you around the penthouse like ducklings, wanting attention: a four year old and two year old twins. You are holding the seven month old Mia in your arms and the boys clench to your long dress, stumbling into each other, but not wanting to let go.

“Moooommy,” Kase whines, jealous his sister is getting kisses.

“Mommy, kiss !” Zane pulls on your gown and you have to stop and get down on your knees.

“Who wants kisses?” you smile, letting Mia crawl on the carpet while the boys pucker their lips, impatiently waiting. You snatch all of them in your arms and randomly start kissing them in a frenzy while they giggle, ticklish.

The Joker mutters something on the couch, watching TV. You have an idea about what he might be: he probably made a comment again about the children calling you mommy. You told them to stop calling you that, but they continue to do it. After all, you are the only woman constantly around, taking care of them.

“J ?”

“What?” he bitterly answers.

“Did you even hold them while I was gone?!” you sigh, having a feeling he didn’t since they are so clingy.

“I was busy,” he grumbles, scratching his Batsy tattoo.

“You don’t seem busy now,” you get up, taking Kase’s hand and leading him to his father.”Here,” you help the young boy sit in J’s lap and wrap his arms around his son.

The King of Gotham is not very excited about your move; still he takes a deep breath and asks:

“What’s going on, kid?”

Kase’s eyes get big; he just couldn’t wait for his parent to show some interest in him. The boy starts talking up a storm, something about Legos and his toys. The Joker tries to understand every single word but some are mispronounced and he kind of gets the point, but not entirely.

“U-hum,” he nods his head and the boy rambles on, excited, playing with J’s gold chains.“A-ha, “ he agrees again, intrigued.

“OK daddy?” the question pops up and The Clown Prince of Crime takes the easy way out:

“Ummm….yes?…”

“Yaaayyy, daddy!” and J gets a kiss on the left cheek, then Kase jumps off his lap, running around the living room, screaming and making airplane noises.

“Y/N, what did I just agree to?” a very confused Joker needs to know.

“More toys, especially Legos,” you bring to his knowledge, urging the twins to follow you and you place them on J’s knees.

“Oh, great, because they don’t have enough!” This time he holds them while they bounce their legs, enthusiastic, bickering about who should get more of their father.

“Aiden, don’t slap your brother! How many times did I tell you not to hit each other? If you do that again, you’ll be in trouble!!! Don’t make me repeat myself! J ?? Are you just going to sit there and not react?!!” you scold, picking up Mia since she crawled back to your feet again.

“I think we’re in trouble,” The Joker whispers, rolling his eyes. “Stop fighting I guess,” he enunciates without any trace of enthusiasm. The kids chuckle, pushing one another and cuddling to J’s chest in the process.

“Com’ere, chubby,” the little girl gets a few kisses on her rosy cheeks and she babbles, yawning. “Are you sleepy? I guess it’s time for your nap, hm? Hey J, did the boys eat?”

“Yeah,” he answers, bored and you go to the kitchen, prepare some formula and bring the Princess back. You signal the twins to go play and you place Mia in The Joker’s arms, handing him the bottle.

“Here, feed your daughter.”

He scoffs, not thrilled but does it anyway.

“Aiden, don’t put that in your mouth!” you rush to take the shoe from him and he yells, running to his brothers, taking refuge with everyone under J’s purple coat. They all hide, whispering and thinking that if they can’t see you, you can’t see them either.

“Brats!” you mumble, letting them be for the moment and open the pantry in the hallway. “J ?” you get annoyed, “why do we still have a bunch of baby food with carrots and peas? You know Mia doesn’t like it, I told you to throw it away!”

“I forgot, woman! Give me a break !” he huffs, quite immersed into his current task. The little girl’s eyes wonder off, searching for you and stops sucking from the bottle until she sees you, then begins eating again.

“Moommyyyy,” whining is heard from under the purple coat,” Zane bit me!”

“Don’t bite your brother!” you raise your voice and there is fighting going on and more complaints.

“Mooommyyy, Aiden pinched me!”

Muffled laughter and more quarrel.

“Don’t pinch your brother!” you admonish, taking Mia away from The Joker since she’s fussing and refuses the bottle. “Come on, nap time for everybody!”

The boys emerge from under the jacket, tossing it on the floor and trampling on it, while their father gasps:

“That’s my favorite coat!!!!”

“Moommmyyyy, ice cream?” Zane follows you and you don’t have time to reply because J grouchily interrupts:

“Quit calling her mommy!! She’s not your mother!”

It feels like a slap in the face.

You abruptly stop and the boys bump into you. You turn towards The Joker, your blood boiling with indignation.

“I didn’t teach them to call me that and you know it ! I told them to stop and they won’t ! What do you want me to do, hm?! Glue their lips so they won’t talk?! I know I’m not their mother, you don’t have to remind me!”

J has some elaborated comeback but he doesn’t get the chance to continue because you literally burst out.

“Do you think it’s easy for me to take care of children you had with another woman?! Do you remember what you told me when we were together and I brought up the subject of having kids? You told me you don’t want any!!!! And then you met Anya and you had four !! Which means that you just didn’t want to have children WITH ME in particular ! Do you know how much that hurt?! But I stepped on my pride and raised them for the last four years because I realize they have absolutely no blame in this circus! You don’t like it they call me mommy??! Then bring back that trash-excuse-of-a-girlfriend and make her take care of them!!!!”

The boys shove themselves into you, startled and Mia whimpers, uneasy. You start walking again and J is speechless.

“What the hell was that, Y/N?!” he shouts and you can’t let it go so you extend your tirade. He’s really getting on your nerves.

“In all these years, did you ever thank me for everything I do?! Not even once!!!! And don’t think I’m not aware you sabotage my dates! I know you are saying things to the guys I like, don’t try to deny it!!!!” and you stump up the stairs, get everyone in the twins’ bedroom and slam the door shut.

J takes deep breaths, staring at the ceiling, talking to himself and nothing sounds nice. A few minutes pass and he decides to go after you and barges into the bedroom without knocking. Mia is almost asleep on top of you and the boys are gathered around your body, ready to doze off. They pout, frowning at their father: all they know is daddy said something that upset mommy. You truly look like Mother Hen with little chicks to shelter from the world.

“Building yourself an army with my kids, hm?” J sucks on his teeth and the boys give him mean glares. You reach to kiss the top of their heads, ignoring his remark. “I have a date tonight so I need you to babysit. I hate it when I have to bring others to watch them.”

“Fine, I don’t care. I missed them anyway,” you grumble, getting comfortable; might as well take a nap also.

“OK, done deal,” The Joker lingers in the doorway, debating on a simple idea that came to him while he was downstairs.

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

You enter the kitchen and notice the table full of boxes: Chinese food delivery from your favorite restaurant. J is already at the table, sitting on a chair and apparently waiting for you to show up.

“Don’t you look dashing,” you make an effort to start the conversation since you are still mad at him.

“I always look dashing,” he scoffs, pushing a chair towards you with his foot. “Sit!”

You hesitate and he insists:

“I said sit!”

Great, you will have to listen to him lecture you now. You do as asked, keeping your composure.

“It’s 8pm, aren’t you going?” you tap your fingers on the table, smelling the delicious food and it makes you hungry.

“As soon as the kids are tucked in and asleep,” he gives you a stupid reason, pretending to give a damn.

“They are asleep, just changed Mia and placed her in the crib.”

“Eat,” J leans over the table and gives you chopsticks. “I ordered your favorites,” and you seem a bit confused when he grabs a pair of chopsticks, opening a box and calmly begins to eat.

“Didn’t you say you have a date?” you bring it up, wanting him to disappear so you can relax and enjoy some quietness.

“I do,” he growls and your reaction is not a happy one when you realize what he means.

“Uggghhh,” you strain to contain your displeased attitude.

“Shut up and eat !” he kicks your chair and you drop the piece of sushi you took a bite from in your lap. “ You made me feel sorry for you since apparently you are not interesting enough to keep a man,” he smirks, pleased he can elaborate on his favorite subject.

“Yeah… right…” you stab your plate, poking a piece of fried calamari. “You’re the one chasing them away.”

“You have proof?”

“I know you are!”

“Ha! I don’t have to, Y/N. You’re just boring.”

You exhale, aggravated, changing the subject.

“Any news from The Queen?”

Anya randomly calls him from time to time.

“She is no Queen !” J’s eyes suddenly lose their glow, his voice getting husky. “In order for a woman to be my Queen she has to earn my trust; you stopped being my girlfriend a long time ago, but you never stopped being The Queen of Gotham.”

The unexpected disclosure almost makes you choke. The Joker hears you sniffle and sees the tears rolling down your cheeks.

“You need a binky? We have plenty lying around.”

“N…no…” you barely chew on your food, not wanting to cry.

“Anya did call while you were in New York,” J admits and you lift your gaze, interested. ”She said she wants Mia. Ha!Ha!Ha!Ha!” he sarcastically laughs, “Like I’m going to engage into a custody battle of some sorts with her? Our children don’t even legally exist ! You know what else she said?”

He’s getting worked up and you assume the worst.

“She said she wants Mia because she’s not mine! Can you believe that?!” he slams his fist on the table and it makes you anxious.

“What?… No way! Of course she’s yours,” you wipe your watery eyes, the new revelation making you alert again. “The children are all yours !”

You surely don’t like the new twist on this night and leave your chair, going around the table and cup his face, wishing to calm down the demons before they break free.

“Look at me,” and the blue eyes meet yours. “All four are yours. Don’t listen to her; you know how she lies and manipulates things!”

“Mommmyyyyy,” you hear from upstairs. “Moommyyyyy!”

“I think Zane had a nightmare again. I’ll be back,” you caress his hair for a few seconds then leave, insecurity already creeping up in his mind.

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

The next day you are going out with Alex, one of J’s smugglers. He is picking you up at the penthouse and hangs out with The Joker in the living room, waiting for you to get ready.

“Alex?” J casually scrolls through his phone, smacking his lips.

“Sir?” the guy’s body stiffens, not knowing what to expect.

“If I hear that you upset Y/N in any way, besides the fact that she will break your neck first, I will PERSONALLY make sure your body is never found again. Do we understand each other?”

This is what J always tells to all the guys you date: his way of being protective and he genuinely means it.

“Y-yes sir,” Alex nervously gulps, praying you’ll hurry up so he doesn’t have to be around The Joker’s menacing presence anymore.

An hour into your date and his cell rings. He picks up.

“Hey J, how are the kids?”

Alex’s voice is heard in the background, cracking up about something.

“The kids are fine!” J snaps and hangs up.

How rude, you think, returning to your drink at the bar and partner.

Another hour and a half pass, you call him again.

“J, it’s me. How are the kids?”

“They’re fine woman; go back to your date! The guy is gonna dump you tomorrow and then you’ll blame me again!” and he hangs up.

Jesus, what’s wrong with him? you crack your neck and go back to the table at the restaurant.

Two more hours and another call. This time you don’t even get to say a word before J screams:

“They’re fine!!!!!!” and he hangs up.

Wow, so ungrateful, and you wave Alex to come over on the dance floor since you really want to have fun.

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

As soon as you get back to the penthouse in the early morning, you go upstairs to check on the children. They are sleeping and you wonder where J went since he is not in his room. You search around and don’t have to go too far: he’s on the balcony. It’s snowing and the pale dawn makes Gotham sparkle under the heavy snowflakes.

“I’m back,” you announce and bundle up inside your coat; it’s chilly and windy. “Insomnia?” you address him, noticing the dark circles under his eyes. He stares at the city he owns, the tall buildings still lit. “Are you ok?” you touch his hands resting on the railing and they are as cold as ice.

“She’s not mine…” J utters, frozen after being outside for hours.

“Huh?” you get closer to him to hear better because his lips barely moved.

“Mia is not mine,” he digs in his coat’s pocket, giving you a few papers and you turn the pages, stunned: they contain paternity test results. It is a match for the boys but no match for the little Princess.

“When did you do this?” you inquire, still in disbelief.

“While you were gone, after she told me. I wanted to make sure and I got the results yesterday after you went on your date,” J sighs, a sharp ache clawing at his heart. “She’s not mine…what am I supposed to do with her now?”

You don’t like the question.

“What do you mean?”

“Mia is not my daughter. I obviously have no use for her; I don’t want her here,” The Joker’s poisonous comment gives you goosebumps.

“How can you say that?! She’s just an innocent baby! It’s not her fault!” “I don’t want her here!” he barks, lifting the collar of his furry coat.

“Well, I do!” you take action, scared of this new idea of his. “If you don’t want her, I’ll take her! She’s my little girl,” you start crying, hoping to change the outcome of his plans.

“None of the kids are yours!” he pushes you away and storms inside, leaving you petrified on the terrace.

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

You couldn’t sleep for a second so you spent the last three hours organizing documents and ammo in the basement. You go up to the penthouse again, checking to see if the children are awake. The boys are still dreaming, but when you step inside Mia’s bedroom, her crib is empty and your hearts stops.

“Oh my God!” you immediately wake up from your sluggish state, frightened. “Love bug? Where are you?” and you sweep the room – of course she’s not there.

Your legs are getting shaky as you go downstairs, desperate to find her.

“Jaaayyy? Jaayy?” you call his name and surprisingly he answers from his office.

“Yes?”

“Where’s Mia?” you run around, panicking.

“I dropped her at the orphanage downtown, told you I don’t want her!” he snarls from beyond the cracked door and you grab your car keys in a hurry, scared to death. The Joker hears the elevator going down and comes out of the office, holding Mia in his arms.

“Where the hell did that crazy woman go?! It’s a blizzard out there!” J lifts her higher on his hip and she baby talks, smiling so innocently he feels awkward and since there is nobody around, he kisses her forehead repeatedly, squeezing her more to his chest. “Oh, shit, you think she went downtown?!” he asks for the little girl’s opinion like she understands him. “That crazy woman!” The Joker huffs, “She completely lost her mind!”

Mia wiggles in his arms, cooing and making cute sounds.

“I’m glad you agree,” J take his cell out of his pocket and dials your number but the phone goes off on the coffee table: you left it there and he can’t reach you. “Great!” he hums, dialing Frost’s number and his henchman picks up.

“Frost, we have to drive downtown.”

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

It was very hard to drive on the stormy weather, but you made it to the orphanage and your heart stopped when you heard no child was abandoned there this morning. Did he leave her outside in the cold snow and someone took her?! You circle the huge building several times, bawling your eyes out because there is no trace of Mia. You even ask a few people brave enough to walk in the tempest but no one saw anything.

You don’t even know where to go; how could he do something like this? Discard such a sweet angel like an unwanted object when you made it clear you would take her. Where is she? Did she crawl somewhere and she is buried under the snow?!

All these thoughts race through your mind as you make your way around the building one more time, cold and tired but not giving up.

You hear heavy steps behind you and The Joker’s voice echoes in the white stillness:

“Are you looking for this?”

You turn around and there she is: he is holding Mia, the baby bundled up in her pink furry coat, wearing that adorable cat ears hat.

You almost trip and fall in the snow, but get to him and snatch her from his grip, distancing away as fast as you can.

“My little love bug,” you keep on kissing her, running towards your car, feverish and anxious while her tiny hands clutch to your jacket.

“What are you doing?” you hear The Joker approaching and you walk faster.

“I’m taking her away!” you shout, struggling to find your car keys and he pulls on your hood, slowing down your movement in order to catch up with you.

“Away? Where, to the penthouse?” J pants, not willing to chase after you again.

“No, away from you where she will be safe! “

“What about the boys?” the problem arises and you become more nervous.

“You left her here in the cold?” you punch his shoulder, trying to pass him but he walks in front of you.

“Are you insane?! Of course I didn’t abandon her in the cold; she was in the office with me!” The Joker growls, pissed.

“You’re a terrible person! I was so worried!” you begin to cry again and Mia winces, uncomfortable in your tight hold.

“We have to go back; the storm is only getting worse. I am fucking freezing since I had to leave the penthouse in a hurry wearing just my purple coat and a shirt, looking for a crazy woman downtown Gotham in this snow storm!! Come on, we’ll send for your car later. Frost is parked across the street,” he gestures, pointing at the black van.

You hesitate and J needs to bring out the mommy in you.

“The boys are probably up by now, wondering how come you’re not there to make them pancakes. You want them to starve to death?!” he over exaggerates, flaring his arms around.

“No, of course not,“ you mumble, following his steps, convinced nobody else on the planet makes better breakfast than you.

“Then hurry up, your kids are waiting!” he has an outburst of clarity while you lean on him for balance, careful not to slip.

You didn’t even realize he referred to his children as yours too, but this is probably why your heart is beating faster. And all you can think right now is what else you can cook for breakfast.

That’s what mothers do.