#punchline Gothams dark joke

[zapreportsblog]

Punchline: Gothams Dark Joke

➥ summary : (Y/n) is a young adult who attends Gotham's Snyder College where she becomes infatuated with the Joker. After much searching and hacking into the dark web she finds the personal information on the joker even his home and lair address where she then decides to embark on a journey of affiliating herself with the man.

➥ chapter 7: Shadows of Obsession

As (Y/N) delved deeper into the criminal underworld, her psyche underwent a profound transformation. The news of the Joker and Harley Quinn's falling out sent ripples of twisted delight through her being. Gone was the innocent infatuation she once held for the Clown Prince of Crime. In its place grew a twisted and sadistic fascination, fueling her obsession and desire to prove herself to the Joker.

The demise of the Joker and Harley Quinn's toxic relationship represented an opportunity for (Y/N) to step into the void left by Harley. The thought of standing beside the Joker, as his partner in chaos, sent shivers of anticipation down her spine. She had become infatuated with the Joker's wicked charisma, his dark charm, and the chaos he wielded like a weapon.

Since joining forces with the Joker, (Y/N) had eagerly embraced her role within his twisted empire. She ran errands for him, carrying out tasks alongside his henchmen, determined to demonstrate her loyalty and resourcefulness. With each completed mission, her obsession with the Joker deepened, consuming her thoughts day and night.

The intoxicating allure of the Joker's world had permeated every fiber of (Y/N)'s being. She reveled in the chaos, the mayhem, and the wicked laughter that echoed through the night. She yearned to leave her mark upon the city, to be recognized as a twisted force to be reckoned with.

But as her obsession grew, so too did the darkness that surrounded her. (Y/N) found herself drawn to the Joker's sadistic games, his cruel sense of humor, and his disregard for the value of human life. The line between right and wrong blurred, and she reveled in the destruction that followed in their wake.

One night, as (Y/N) stood beside the Joker, a wicked grin stretching across her face, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in a broken mirror. The image that stared back at her was one of distorted delight, a reflection of her twisted desires.

As (Y/N) caught a glimpse of her reflection in the broken mirror, a wave of dissatisfaction washed over her. The image staring back at her no longer represented the twisted persona she sought to embody. If she was to fully embrace the villainous life she had chosen, she knew that her appearance needed a transformation as well. Determined to look the part, she embarked on a journey to create a costume that would mirror the darkness within.

The next day, (Y/N) set out on a mission to craft her new identity. She purchased fabric in shades of black and purple, the colors that symbolized her allegiance to the Joker. With needle and thread in hand, she meticulously sewed together a long, thin turtleneck one-piece as the base of her costume. Its sleek design hugged her curves, accentuating her figure with an air of sultry elegance.

Next, she crafted a black leather dress that laced up in the front, creating a sense of allure and mystery. The laces acted as a symbol of her power, tightly woven together, reminiscent of the bonds that tied her to the twisted realm she now inhabited. The dress exuded a sense of dominance and seduction, enhancing her enigmatic presence.

Completing the ensemble, (Y/N) donned thigh-high leather boots that she adorned with a symbol that held meaning between her and the Joker. She meticulously sewed an "X" onto the top of one boot, representing the unpredictability and chaos that defined her existence. On the other boot, she stitched an "O," symbolizing her twisted affection for the Joker—a love that knew no bounds and danced along the precipice of madness.

To complete her transformation, (Y/N) contemplated a change in her hair color. She decided on a deep shade of auburn, a hue that mirrored the darkness within her soul. With each strand that was dyed, she felt a surge of power, as if the very essence of her being was aligning with the sinister path she had chosen.

Confident in her new appearance, (Y/N) ventured to visit the Joker, eager to showcase her transformation. As she entered his lair, his eyes widened in surprise. The Joker was taken aback by her new look, but his gaze quickly turned into one of appreciation and desire.

"Well, well, well, (Y/N)," the Joker purred, a sinister grin playing upon his lips. "You certainly know how to make an entrance. I must say, I find this new look of yours... absolutely captivating."

A mischievous smirk tugged at (Y/N)'s lips as she replied, "I knew you'd like it, Mr. J."

The Joker's eyes gleamed with a mix of amusement and satisfaction. He circled (Y/N) slowly, taking in every detail of her new appearance. The air crackled with tension as their twisted connection intensified.

"You've truly become a work of art, my dear," the Joker remarked, his voice filled with admiration. "Together, we shall paint this city in shades of chaos and revel in the chaos we create."

(Y/N) basked in the Joker's approval, her newfound confidence radiating from within. She had morphed into the embodiment of her darkest desires, embracing the mask that concealed her true self. The path before her was laden with danger and uncertainty, but she was ready to face it head-on.

As the Joker and (Y/N) joined forces, their souls intertwined in a dance of madness, they embarked on a twisted journey that would test the limits of their sanity. Together, they would leave an indelible mark on Gotham, a testament to their devotion to chaos and the allure of villainy.

[izunias-meme-hole]

"JACK NAPIER"/THE JOKER

"Want to know how I keep smiling?"

HERE'S THE FUNNY BASTARD MAN!!

Despite being a VERY well known gangster before his transformation, "Jack Napier" was a very secretive man, keeping his own history under wraps, and has no actual documentation of a true name, or birth date. However what was known about Napier was that he was the right hand man of Carmine Falcone's rival, Rupert Thorne, and he was often called to either "clean up a mess", or eliminate anyone who went against Thorne. However all of that changed after he got set up at Ace Chemicals, and met The Batman. Napier walked out of that encounter with raw blood red lips, chalk white skin, green hair, and a damaged face, and when he went to get surgery for his face as quick as possible, Napier ended up with a permanent grin. Finding all of recent circumstances absurd, Jack goes completely mad, convinced that life was just some big joke, and if that were the case he'd be the one sharing the punchline. So after killing Thorne and taking over his enterprise, The Joker was not only born, but fully prepared to cause chaos, ruin lives, and share his twisted works of art with Gotham City for his own amusement.

My Joker here is pretty much just a marriage between B:TAS, Batman 89, The Dark Knight, and The Arkham Games. A psychotic gangster who fell into a vat of chemicals, got some facial disfigurement, and began to see life as one bad joke, becoming a literal mad clown as a result.

After meeting Batman again, bro just got worse. Granted he was never truly fine to begin with, but not only did he become more unhinged and destructive after getting his chemical bath, but he became obsessed with The Bat after his second encounter with him. Now what sparked this obsession? Batman deciding not to kill him. Joker was confused at first, but he slowly began to piece it all together, and now had a long "game"... one that he planned on winning.

Harley Quinn is still brought to his side, and he's still a genuine piece of garbage to her, but he ditches her and almost kills her for real the MOMENT she successfully captures Batman all by herself, right under his nose. And they were around each other for 19 years.

This man is responsible for almost poisoning Gotham via a parade, turning Christmas Eve into Batman's most stressful night, a riot at Blackgate, the creation for Two-Face, the creation of Harley Quinn, the near-death of Barbra Gordon (who doesn't get crippled here and isn't Batgirl at that point yet), the traumatization of James Gordon, the death of Jason Todd, the endorsement of Project TITAN, a takeover of Arkham Asylum, the mutation of Killer Croc via TITAN, the traumatization of billions, the deaths of billions, and his final atrocity; turning Tim Drake into a mini-him through torment. This isn't his entire rap-sheet, but it's literally just half of the horrendous shit across the entire franchise along with some new shit that seems like it came from the old school comics. Like this man is likely to fill Gotham PD with actual pigs in cop costumes once as a more harmless prank just a day before doing something actually horrid.

The only limit to his cruelty is that whatever he does has to be peak comedy in his eyes, and if it doesn't reach that he'll actually be annoyed. Like bro didn't even plan on killing Jason Todd, he just wanted to send him back to Batman all broken down and beaten, but he was enjoying it too much and ruined his own work.

He still has some of his connections with the mob, and uses them for some of his schemes, however he's also willing to manipulate some mentally ill fellows from Arkham into helping him.

Enjoys a lil' internet trolling and memeing.

If he had a voice actor (That isn't Mark Hamill because he has retired from voicing the man due to the passing of the GOAT Conroy), it would be either Troy Baker, Michael McKean, Chris Hackney, Joe Zeija, Daemon Clarke, Mick Wingert, Keith Silverstien, Andrew Russel, or Haley Joel Osment.

So yeah. This is My Joker.

[longlivefiction]

Jeremiah Valeska's references to the Arkhamverse:

Anger and cowardice, signs of loneliness: (No, this is not an empathic factor, if not, rather pitiful, Jeremiah spent years fearing his brother, fearing that they would discover his madness, or that he would end up dying, he reacts aggressively to anything that gets in the way on his way to kill Jerome, but deep down he doesn't want the game to end, it gives him purpose Something similar happens with The Joker in Arkham City, who boasts several times as Batman needs, but in the climax of the game The Joker writhes in anguish, terror and dread at the thought of dying, the thought that he will no longer be able to bother Batman, that he will no longer be able to play with Gotham and his personal best friend/toy. Paranoid, it's all over. The only reason I laughed at the end was because of the joke Batman told, but that his primeval reaction to the face of death is such dread is just a sample of how pathetic he is underneath all the babble. , chaos, schemes, and plans)

Using monitors: (Reference to The Joker in Arkham Origins, where the Joker himself uses the monitors in his lair to watch Batman's steps around him and taunt him while trying to catch him)

Immediate obsession with Batman: (Much like The Joker in Arkham Origins, Jeremiah seems to have this moment of epiphany when he first meets Batman, seeing him as a kindred spirit, in both cases, due to his clear unwavering determination and the darkness behind his actions of benevolence)

Post mortem plans in a recording: (The Joker before his death in Arkham City, has made a post mortem plan giving several VHS recordings to educate his followers)

Pretending to be someone else to gain a place in Gotham's underworld: (Reference to when The Joker disguised himself as the Black Mask, taking his identity and his operation to plot to cause chaos and kill Batman. In this case, Jeremiah pretends to be Jerome to cause chaos, and plots to kill Gordon)

Vhs Jerome and paranoid Jeremiah, theater partners: (The way the beats are handled in Jeremiah's punchline, making the revelations that he was Jerome on the tapes, and that he was feigning incoherent madness, is an extended version of the scene from Arkham Asalyum , where The Joker talks with the self from his recording, as if both interact with each other knowing what role to play, then the explosion happens)

You are important, but not THAT important: (Jeremiah admits his friendship with Bruce, and seems to be honest about his fascination but knows that he will have to kill him if he becomes a nuisance, this is similar to how The Joker in Arkham City, despite being able to lose Batman, prioritizes the chance of immortality, both Jeremiah and The Joker have a kind of twisted affection for Batman, but that is always overshadowed by their own selfish interests in his machinations and personal enjoyment)

Blowing up a building because he wanted to: (The Joker in Arkham Origins blows up a building for the purpose of screwing over Batman, Jeremiah blows up the clock tower to show he's going to do more destruction, something along the lines of: "This is just a fraction of what's next, give up." and lose")

Working with Scarecrow: (The Joker in Arkham Asalyum, makes a plan to drive Batman mad, this includes Scarecrow, using his fear gas to drive Batman completely insane, in both cases, he fails of course)

Green inner vest, clown-like design. (In this case, it could be said that it is a split reference, The Joker in Arkham Origins used a green inner vest with artistic designs, in this case, Jeremiah wears a dark green inner vest, which covers a shirt with 2 different design patterns , one checkered, and the other much more circus in style)

Hidden in the theater: (Jeremiah, after being defeated cough cough .. by the power of the script .. *cough * *cough * .. decides to go over his plan in a theater, referencing how The Joker in Arkham City hid in the theater Monarch for his grand finale)

Spiky hair in front. (Jeremiah being hit by Alfred, when he falls to the ground, he has hair similar to his brother's, the difference here is that while his hair is raised like Jerome's in season 4, he does not have spiky hair at the back, being more similar to The Joker from Arkham Origins) Jeremiah has a church as part of his base of operations. (This is a reference to Arkham City, where The Joker had taken over a church as one of his fun houses.

Masked henchmen. (Much like The Arkhamverse Joker with some of his sequels, Jeremiah has at his disposal followers in red and black suits, with masks with different drawings on them, instead of the clown faces, but this clear similarity)

Jeremiah's Clown Prince costume: (Jeremiah wears black striped pants, this is a reference to the Joker from several media at once, by extension, also the Arkhamverse Joker, not including Arkham Origins) 

Romance as fake as your mom saying she wasn't going to hit you if you broke the vase: (Jeremiah and The Arkhamverse Joker, had a kind of very striking behavior towards Bruce, however, it was easy to tell among the many jokes, and the moments in which they showed that behind all "love", Batman made them want throw up, or in any case, just enjoy picking on him because it's fun, though of course, while they don't put it into words, they're not exactly subtle about their contempt)

Chemical Rain: (The Joker, before Arkham Asylum, has this plan to rain down deadly chemicals on Gotham using fireworks to spread them out)

You need me! (I need you, what The Joker says when he is forgotten in Arkham Knight… I don't think I should explain that in both cases it is nothing more than pure self-pity. The pain does not come from not having Batman, but from not being recognized)

What a fast bomb! (Jeremiah, or J in this case, makes a reference to Arkham Origins, with the bomb underneath the model of New Gotham. This bomb ends up speeding up his countdown, though in the end, indirectly thanks to Batman, no one gets hurt. The Joker from Arkhamverse pulled the same trick)

Ledger + Nicholson FUSION!: (J, once he gets out of the asylum, introduces his new look. For starters, he paints his eyes black, which is a reference to at least 3 Jokers, Ledger, Timmverse, and Arkhamverse. Then we have the painted smile, which is more than Arkhamverse style for me, since it's a smile that was determined, not forced, and it's unscarred, just a spread of paint)

[fractualized]

Another month, another Man Who Stopped Laughing (#6)!

Warnings for blood and gore (including the death of an animal).

We spend extensive time with Los Angeles Joker in this one. He's scheduled for a flight back to Gotham, but he decides to take in a comedy set first.

I like the implication that Joker has a higher voice, as that's the kind of Joker voice I prefer!

When the comedian gets a better look at his fan, he is much less amused.

Oh god don't do a riff. DO NOT DO A RIFF. That couple in the back sneaking out absolutely have the right idea. This cannot end well.

But the comedian forges ahead, and he has some good jokes about Gotham.

Until he fucks up.

Joker just got divorced from that flying rat and he does not want to talk about it!!

Of course, per the first image in this post, Joker was always planning to use his drink to acid the poor comedian in the face. Chaos erupts, but then Mr. Waffles shows up.

I really enjoy the dynamic with the henchmen in this issue, how Joker's interactions with them are almost friendly. Mr. Waffles wasn't sure where you were, Mr. J! He was so worried. :(

Before leaving for Gotham, though, Joker has an errand.

Look at your boss's face back there! Don't question him!

I said the dynamic was almost friendly. (Hee, lookit the guy hiding in the red car.)

They then head up to the observatory, where they watch the second part of Joker's farewell to the City of Angels. (Hold on, does that mean something, that Joker is from such a dark city, so of course he's unhappy in the City of Angels?? Eh, maybe not, just a thought.)

Is it insane to look for messages in the smoke? Yes? Nevermind.

Aw, Joker you miss Batsy, don't you? That's why you gotta go back to your roots– except Joker didn't realize where his flight was leaving from and he kinda screwed himself.

The pun on the van is meh but now I'm wondering if Joker thinks of himself as a lettuce head– and oh my god I just realized that icon on that blimp is a Joker face and get the joke.

There's a brief interlude where Jason learns that his clown-killing last issue isn't so clear-cut, and then we're back to LA Joker trying to get to the dang airport through a riot that he started.

But never fear, Mr. Waffles is taking charge!

MR. WAFFLES NOOOOOOOOOOOO

Oh good, he's okay, but you may notice that the van is now on fire, which isn't going to get Joker to LAX. And look at Waffles' concern! He doesn't want Boss to get hurt! :(

And then another interlude…

Goddamn, I guess Protag Joker really did get hit by that train. And now he's stuck getting fed rat blood. Yeeeeeeesh.

This raises the question of when the next issue of Punchline: The Gotham Game takes place. Protag Joker showed up at the end of GG's last issue, and I'd assumed he came across Punchline after dodging the train. But maybe their reunion takes place in Joker's wanderings pre-TMWSL #5, or after Grundy fixes him up? Questions, questions!

Anyway, over in Hollywood, Joker has escaped the riot and is still trying to get to the airport.

He tries to use his clownly wiles for a ride, but it's a no-go.

And then… LE GASP

Okay, no one believes this is the real Batman coming up. I still can't tell where TMWSL takes place in relation to what Bruce is up to. Is Bruce "dead" now? Is Bruce fighting literal demons now? Who knows!

Anyway, Joker's bemusement at Costume Batman is entertaining.

And of course there's a Robin.

wuh oh

Look, Joker still has some post-divorce aggression to work out. He should get home and work it out with his ex!

But not quite yet.

I know nothing about Manhunter but I guess I'll learn next month!

Then it's backer time, and we have a different artist, and I don't know how I feel about it. Francavilla's style really complimented the strangeness of the plot lines. But it is what it is, and it's Ralph!

Joker's henchmen have come to tell Ralph about a death in the family.

Twin brothers, of course! Looking back I'm surprised we didn't get to this clone explanation sooner.

He died almost doing what he loved: riding a bat.

Ralph leaves his family to attend to his brother's affairs.

lol boners reference

Ralph carries out all of Joker's schemes, my favorite being toilet papering Arkham, just because… the simplicity and near innocence of it, I guess!

But then as his duty comes to a close, Ralph realizes he's found a new calling.

Not a huge fan of this backer, perhaps because it makes me think of Three Jokers, which I still viscerally dislike even though I barely even remember why. But this does call back to the idea that Joker is an unstoppable force that Gotham will always need to deal with, and that's fun!

[moonofvandar]

Punchline ~ Rebirth

A short piece I recently wrote featuring Punchline. Set sometime after her trial and after she's left the Joker, but before she hooks up with the Royal Flush gang.

Not my best piece of writing, but I think it's okay and it was more of an experiment to try and get into her head. I might rewrite this sometime.

“Episode fifty-three: Rebirth.”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve recorded one of these. I thought I had finished this little side project. Documenting the history of the Joker? Trying to get to the center of the mysteries surrounding him? God, I was such a stupid girl back then. I never imagined I would end up at the Joker’s side. I never imagin…I never thought th…goddammit.”

With a frustrated sigh, Alexis grabbed her headset, ripping it from her head and tossing it to the floor below. Ever since her trial, ever since she had gotten off scot-free for the crimes she had committed during her time as the Joker’s protege, something had seemed off. Something was bothering her.

She was listless.

She was bored.

Those months she had spent working alongside the Joker, helping bring his particular brand of chaos and madness to the streets of Gotham City…those had been the greatest months of her life. She had never experienced a pure thrill like that in her life, and now that everything was seemingly over, she felt empty inside. She had gotten away with everything and had walked free from Gotham’s courthouse, but in the weeks since her trial, she had been alone. She hadn’t heard a single word from the Joker, nor had she received any sign that he even remembered she existed. 

Honestly, after all her research and studying into him and his history, she should have expected as much. The feeling of abandonment still stung, though. It cut her deeply, almost as if she was being stabbed through the heart with one of her own deadly knives. After everything she had done for him, was this how it was going to end? Forgotten and abandoned as if she was yesterday’s trash?

What a cruel fucking punchline to the joke that had become her life!

With trembling hands, Alexis reached out beside her keyboard, grabbing the crumpled pack of cigarettes she had left lying there. She never smoked at the computer. She cared far too much about her gear and her recording equipment to risk ruining it with her bad habit, but tonight? With the mood she was in? She didn’t care. She honestly didn’t care.

Pulling a cigarette from the pack, she jammed it in between her dark-painted lips, before grabbing her lighter and raising it to her mouth too. Her eyes were drawn to it, emerald spheres watching as the flame ignited, setting alight the thin cylinder that rested between her lips. Tilting her head backward, she then inhaled, taking a long drag before exhaling again, watching the slow spiral of smoke as it rose toward her ceiling.

She had tried again and again to do something, anything. A video for her YouTube channel, to let her fans in Gotham know that she was okay. Short clips for her TikTok. A new episode for her long-since-finished podcast. None of it felt right though. She couldn’t find the proper words, the right message for her work. It was that gnawing feeling of abandonment eating her up. It was throwing her off of her game. How could she talk about herself, how could she open herself up again to her fans when the one person she needed the most wasn’t there?

And there it was. The moment of realization hit her like a ton of bricks, nearly knocking her from her computer chair. Her obsession with the Joker, the single-minded pursuit of him…she had become dependent upon him. She had become addicted to his presence and his praise. She had to laugh at the thought. After everything she had been through in her research of him, she had fallen right into the trap that she had sworn to herself she’d avoid! 

God, she was such a stupid fucking girl!

She took another drag from her cigarette and blew her smoke upward again, her lips beginning to twist into a small smile. Did she really need him, though? What more could she learn from the Joker? She had fought by his side, she had learned his ways, but what had she really learned from him?

He was too single-minded. He could have brought Gotham to its knees and shattered the entire foundation of the city like it was nothing, but his obsession with Batman had led him astray. He was so busy trying to get into the head of one single individual that he had forgotten the game. He had forgotten what his own purpose was. Just like the Joker had let his obsession distract him, in turn, Alexis’ own obsession was ruining her own path.

No more.

It was time for Alexis Kaye to go her own way.

She slowly turned her head toward one side of her bedroom, her smile twisting into a wider grin as she laid her eyes upon the outfit hanging on her wall: her Punchline outfit, clothes she hadn’t worn since the final day of her trial.

She knew what she had to do.

She knew where her future would lead.

She had to spread her own message through Gotham, a message of chaos and anarchy that would make even the Joker stop and stare in awe.

Alexis Kaye had to die, and Punchline had to walk the city’s streets once more.

Reaching down to the base of her chair, she snatched the headset from her feet and raised it up, sliding it back onto her head. She took a moment to adjust her microphone, then leaned forward and tapped the space bar on her keyboard to start her recording program. She waited for a second, and then another, then spoke up, the goth girl’s voice bright and full of an energy it had lacked before as she once again began to record a new episode of her podcast.

“It’s been a while since I’ve done one of these, but so much has happened lately. I felt like I needed to connect with all of you, my lovely and loyal fans, and let you know on a personal level what’s been happening in my life lately.”

“Episode one: Rebirth. Welcome to the Punchline Podcast…”

[laughingmagi]

🔥 on fc

Send me a “ 🔥 “ for an unpopular opinion.

I know you said you meant dc, and auto correct is mean, but I have opinions on fcs, too lmao.

On FCs

I know it's going to sound petty af, but I really hate when people choose a FC that has a very famous role and they insist on using that famous role in their caps. It's like. Okay, Chris Evans as an easy example. He's been in like 30-odd movies aside from the Marvel films. There's no reason to use Captain America, y'know? I mean, I have a fc with a well known role (even though like Ewan had been working since long before Star Wars and Obi-Wan was far from his break out role), but you don't see me using caps from SW. Mind you, I'm talking about the big roles, the iconic ones, right?

On DC

I don't know. Regarding the films, it's a fucking trash fire. It's a goddamned mess. As far as I'm concerned, they should just embrace the chaos instead of trying to get it under control. They should have fired Ezra, I'm sorry. Bar fights are one thing, but the culty shit? Messing about with teenagers? Idek, if they're not going to face any kind of legal consequences, they should at least be given time to sort their head out before throwing them right back into what probably unhinged them in the first fucking place.

I really don't pay attention to a lot of comics. Still extremely bitter that they didn't hang onto Stejepan Sejic with both hands, give him all the money, all the freedom to do whatever the fuck he wanted with Harley, Poison Ivy, Gotham City Sirens, and anything else. I know he's said that there is no bad blood between him and DC, he just decided he was more artistically fulfilled working on his original comics. And that's fine, that's valid, but I don't believe that DC didn't burn him somehow. Idek if that's an unpop opinion lmao, tho. I think anyone who knows him and has seen his work for DC feels the loss keenly.

Do we need a Joker sequel? The Gaga stills in her snoozefest Harley costume that just bubbled up are giving me nothing. I'm not enthused.

A quick encore of my classic Hellblazer/John Constantine unpopular opinions:

The TV show was trash. Yes, I've watched it and every minute was sheer torture aside from when Papa Midnite showed up. He was great.

Both versions of Justice League Dark are bad, though the New 52 series was far worse than the reboot.

There hasn't been a legit good Hellblazer comic since the end of the Vertigo imprint. Merely passable.

The movie is good actually.

Most of DCs attempts to represent John's bisexuality have been either cowardly or shitty jokes (like I'm sorry, no one can convince me that the concept of John dating King Shark was anything but a cheap punchline. Because Harley was right there too and hahaha, wouldn't it be funny if it was assumed that he'd dated Harley but it was actually King Shark??????? Hahahahahahaahooooohaaa SO FUNNY YOU GUYS).

[anxiousnerdwritings]

Ship/Matchup Request: I'm a tall (6′2.8″) 20 years old straight man with brown eyes and ginger/almost copper hair . Like : good joke's , funny people , dark colours , comedies , cooking (although still there is a great room for improvement) , reading books (comedy , horrors, comics).

Dislike : boring people , too much bright colours , melodramas (the ones that are too much of drama) , racism .

Favourite characters from Dc Universe (games, comics and all animation) : Catwoman , Harley Quinn , Poison Ivy , Punchline , Bane , Joker (all of them ) (exept for moments when he mistreating Harley ) (really sorry for Flashpoint Joker / Martha Wayne ) , Scarecrow (thinking that with him from Gotham or Dark Knight we would be a best friends) , Red Hood , Damian Wayne , Raven , Starfire , Cyborg , Beastboy , Terra , Jinx , Lantern corps (any of them) , Lois Lane , Killer Crock, Killer Frost , Young Justice characters .

Can you please do anyone in those female characters??

I ship you with…..Harley Quinn!!!

She’ll definitely make you her new Puddin’! She’ll have you in hysterics with her jokes and puns whenever given the chance. Hell, she’d drop by just to get a giggle out of you. And talk about cooking! Harley would love to cook for you but she’d especially love for the two of you to cook together. She can be just a tad too territorial over you but she means it with the most amount of love she can muster. As long as you stick with her and give her more love, care and appreciation then the Joker ever could then that’s all she could ever ask for.

[goodluckdetective]

But What’s the Punchline: Why the Joker is Being Written all Wrong and Why.

Hello everyone, and welcome to the circus. Yes, I am going to talk about the Joker at length here, making me the biggest clown, but listen, I promise, I have points to make. Just sit down and hear me out. 

So a lot of comic book fans, myself included, loathe seeing the Joker because when he appears, it’s usually a sign some bad writing will commence. The Joker is less than a character these days than a “stakes are raised” flag that a writer throws in to let us know “shit is serious now” like we didn’t just see the Joker a month ago in the same way. In general, his actions follow whatever the plot needs from him, plus a joke or two in a wavy font, but otherwise, there’s not much depth to him. He’s a bit like the “sexy lamp” trope except instead he’s more of a street sign that says “danger” and that street sign is in front of like the smallest pot hole to a full on burning building.

But I digress. So the Joker now kinda of sucks, but he has been good in the past. We’ve all read a story where he is actually interesting. So what happened? Well, long story short, the Joker got a bit lost in translation. 

What does the Joker actually represent? A lot of folks say society but that’s not it. Some say he’s chaos for chaos sake, which isn’t entirely wrong, and some interpretations have written him that way, but I’d argue they’re not good ones. 

I think Moore is a little closer with the idea of one bad day but I think people also really simplify what he was getting at.  Because Moore’s point in the Killing Joke (derogatory, problematic) was that the Joker is wrong. Jim proves him wrong, that’s the point. So it’s not that either.

So let’s take a step back. I think the best way to view the Joker is to start with Batman because the Joker is supposed to be his natural foil, his true nemesis. So to foil properly, you first have to decide what you’re foiling. Batman is an idea, the idea Bruce had a very very bad day and then decided to try to stop bad things like it from ever happening again. He’s not a defense of the “system” per say because Bruce goes against the system a lot because it’s corrupt and doesn’t work. But it’s an idea of justice, that those who are hurt can feel safe and that people can be better. 

It’s the idea that “the world sucks and is unfair and bad things happen, but we get up and try to make it better anyway because it’s worth it” Which fits Gotham thematically: things are terrible and dark but no one gives up, they keep pushing towards that light.

Okay so with this in mind, the Joker is easier to define. He’s not pure chaos. The Joker is destructive nihilism, the idea that “everyone sucks and the world is unfair and bad things happen and because of that, I should burn it all down until everyone else realizes it too, because we will never truly win.” A lot of the things the Joker does when written well come back to this mission statement: futility and despair. There’s no hope to be had so fuck it, let’s commit some arson and laugh because none of this means anything, might as well have fun as the world falls apart. And that fits with his character. Why is he a clown? Tragic comedy duality. Why is his backstory always changing and never concrete? Because nothing matters so who he is doesn’t matter, the city will still burn. Why does he shift tactics so often? Because he doesn’t care about consistency, he sees the world as a doomed sim city and he’s happy to destroy it regardless of what tools he has in the hot bar.

And it’s why he hates Batman so much. The Joker views the world as a bird with two broken wings from hitting the window:it hasn’t quite died yet but will never get better. Meanwhile Batman is the person still trying to bandage each wing, like birds doesn’t break wings every day, like the window isn’t going to cause this problem again, like trying to fix this one doomed bird matters. And the Joker hates him for it. He wants him to stop fighting, admit you can’t fix things and laugh. And yet Batman keeps trying to save every broken bird he can find like that will change anything. Hell, he even tries to fix the fucking window, even though some other asshole will put up another one as soon as he convinces this property owner to replace it. Batman looks at this problem and keeps railing against it, even when the chance of him saving ever bird and replacing every too opaque window is impossible. And the Joker finds that attempt to work against what he views as a hopeless situation the most frustrating thing in the world. 

(This viewpoint of the Joker also helps explain why Harley and others so easily fell for the line: cause chaos cus it’s fun is a harder sell then “we’re all doomed, might as well watch it burn and laugh knowing it was doomed to begin with). 

But instead everyone writes him as their first chaotic evil character in dnd and it’s lazy. It’s boring. It’s a plot device in clown make-up. Use a character who makes sense for your plotline. Save the Joker for what he’s meant for. 

[fleckcmscott]

Coffee & Donuts

Summary: Arthur’s thrilled to be part of a crowd. Though the evening doesn’t go perfectly, Y/N’s flirtations make it sweet.

Warnings: Smut

Words: 4,602

A/N: Alright. After the heart wrenching angst of my last piece (which I love, by the way; don't get me wrong! 😂), I had to write another story in which Arthur and Y/N are happy and together. It's inspired by one of Arthur's visions during their kiss. I hope you all like it! Special thanks to @jokerownsmysoul for beta-ing!

If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask. Requests for Arthur and WWH are open!

Parties and celebrations weren't foreign to Arthur. He'd worked plenty, enough to make him realize what he'd been missing out on. He was well-versed in pin the tail on the donkey, musical chairs, and balloon animals. But as an adult, those activities didn't satisfy. He wanted to be included rather than paid. Connect with people, introduce himself. Discuss his experiences and pursuits. Feel sufficiently at ease to loosen up a little and have a good time.

Now he was a guest - a certified guest - at Patricia Gorman's fifty-sixth birthday party. The first party he'd been invited to since being the weird kid in class who'd rotated between three worn out sweaters and could never afford a gift.

He'd been a tad apprehensive about going to Burnside. Gotham's nicest borough had a reputation for high rents and low tolerance. When Y/N and he had entered 2E, however, Patricia's greeting ("You made it!") and the apartment were thoroughly welcoming. Crocodile brown walls and forest green shag carpet made the spacious living room a cozy hideaway. Marigolds leapt across the polyester of the T-cushion sofa and its easy-chair companion. The floor lamp's amber, crimped glass shades cast the spacious living room in a glow borrowed from warm autumn days.

Patricia's husband, Robert, was out on an emergency call. An HVAC had gone haywire in a residential building in Hinckley. Her daughter, son-in-law, and grandson had been by for lunch. That meant the only other guests were Matt - Y/N's old boss - and a bottle-blonde in a black halter dress and spike heels, who Y/N introduced as Laura. ("She's Matt's ex-wife," Y/N later disclosed. "He's been trying to win her back since I moved to Gotham.") Both shook Arthur's hand when he offered it, and he felt a little thrill whirl his stomach when Y/N laid claim to him by telling the woman, "This is my husband."

A collection of appetizers served as dinner, a fun and novel menu. The slow cooker meatballs Y/N and he had lugged over on the subway were a bit tangy; he still couldn't believe the recipe called for grape jelly. The deviled eggs with paprika, a pleasant mix of savory and sweet, was a dish he'd heard about on television. Cream cheese and cucumber sandwiches were light and airy, a good match for his iced tea. Only the artichoke and spinach dip gave him pause. Its beans and hot sauce made his taste buds wince.

That unpleasant flavor was quickly forgotten when Y/N pulled him to sit next to her on the sofa, so Patricia could open her presents. She proudly showed off the orange, clay ashtray her grandson had made for her. Arthur, having successfully kept the secret of her light smoking from Y/N, chuckled at Patricia fibbing she'd put candy in it. She thanked Matt and Laura for the champagne, wrapped in a silver bow with a simple "Happy Birthday" tag. The bottle wasn't popped. Upon peeking into the large giftbag Y/N placed on her lap, she made a soft sound. The Dazey whirlpool bath, which attached to the side of the tub and had three strength settings, was a hit. She announced her plans to try it in the morning. The dark blue Rexbuilt briefbag was intended to replace her cracked, leather briefcase, Y/N explained. Patricia ran her fingertips along the expanding inner compartments, the personalized planner that included the credential "CLA" after her name, and flipped through the included steno pads, eyes brimming.

She sipped at her cocktail and put an arm around Y/N. Melancholy tinged Patricia's voice. "At my age, the people in your life tend to stay the people in your life. Whether you like them or not." She reached further and patted Arthur's knee. "I'm glad an old dame like me gets to call you all friends." His throat clenched in gratification, though he wasn't daring enough to squeeze her hand and thank her for deciding he was a friend.

Still on top of the world an hour later, Arthur sauntered to the red and white enamel dining table to serve himself a second slice of upside-down pineapple cake. The evening had gone well, better than a guy with a natural inability to mingle could've expected. He bobbed his head to the beat of "Come Fly with Me." It was a happy coincidence that Patricia's taste in music aligned with his. She'd regaled him with tales of seeing Sinatra and Count Basie on her and Robert's honeymoon in Vegas. Arthur took a bite absentmindedly, wondering how long it would take for him to save the money to surprise Y/N with plane and concert tickets.

The daydreaming didn't last long. Matt's plodding footsteps preceded him, followed by a long sigh as he propped himself on the beige stone of the dining area's accent wall, across from the u-shaped kitchen. He held out a Budweiser and smirked. "Marriage is a hell of a lot of work."

Pleased that he was being treated like one of the guys, like a regular husband with a regular relationship who got to speak about his regular wife, Arthur accepted the beer and considered the comment. Matt's sentiment was hard to grasp. Dr. Sally had said marriage could be difficult, and Y/N's first hadn't survived the ripples of her life. But it didn't feel like work with her. Their arguments were minor. Her nagging him to find a primary doctor for annual check-ups, even though he'd survived this long without one. Or back in Missouri, when he'd told her to stop shielding him and trust he could take anything she had to give.

Arthur adopted a similar nonchalant posture and jutted his hip against the table's edge. "I like it. It's easy to take good care of her." He wasn't able to completely erase the smugness of success from his tone.

"You're what? Two years in with the most headstrong woman in Gotham? She's great and all, but she spikes my blood pressure." Matt slapped Arthur's back and let out a hearty guffaw. "Give it five more and you'll be in my office trying to avoid alimony."

"Don't. Say that." Arthur crinkled the can in his grip and glared up at him.

"Hey," Matt started, withdrawing even as he tried diplomacy. "It was just a joke. I didn't mean anything by it."

Flinching, pulling at the cuffs of his red sweater, Arthur fought the surge of anger in his veins. It wouldn't do to lose control and cause a scene. Of course Matt's comment about them splitting up was supposed to be a joke. But Arthur didn't find it one bit funny. Even with his complete faith in her and his firm belief that they were meant to be together, the possibility that she'd stop wanting him hurt. It didn't occur to him that the implication of the punchline could be that he'd get sick of Y/N.

With a muttered apology, Matt walked to the others in the kitchen. Arthur glanced over to see her laugh tipsily, until she grabbed her stomach and swatted Patricia's shoulder, a stark demonstration of how much he and Y/N differed. She always knew how to respond to people, the right comebacks. Appropriate timing and levels of interaction. It seemed she was in her natural element, the loveliest swan on a lake. Whereas after years of therapy and practice with her, he was still a fish out of water, flopping around on the shoreline in hopes some stranger would take pity on him and throw him back into the sea.

Maybe that was the real punchline. Eventually their contrasts would no longer complement each other and instead become a chore.

Scowling, he ambled towards the record player stationed before two double-hung windows. Increased the volume to drown out the intrusive notions. It didn't really work. He settled on a grounding technique he'd practiced, all the while lamenting that he couldn't handle a party without needing it. His attention went to the spinning LP, the needle following its grooves. The bright blue album cover, where Ol' Blue Eyes beckoned him, the scuff marks on the cardboard's corner edges. He acknowledged the spider plants sat on the windowsill, worried a papery leaf until it broke off. He stared out the window, taking in the whole of the city. Pinpricks of light dazzling in the darkness.

"Gotham's beautiful at night," Y/N said from behind him. He glanced over his shoulder to watch her approach. Her cheeks glowed with alcohol and good cheer, the collar of her ivory blouse unbuttoned. "There's a life behind every light out there. Ten million of them. Here. Try this." She offered her hurricane glass, filled with an off-white slush.

He sipped the pina colada with cautious skepticism and grimaced as soon as it hit his tongue. The blend of pineapple and coconut tasted of cheap sunscreen and tropical imitations, the kind advertised in smudged brochures for bad cruises to islands with made up sounding names. "No, thanks."

Snorting, she shrugged and embraced his back at the waist. "How are we doing?" she asked, curling into his side. After a few seconds, she prodded him. "Had your fill of Matt?"

"He was just joking." Arthur rubbed the back of his neck and sighed.  She set the drink next to the record player and brought her hand to his, trailed it over the inside of his wrist, up his forearm. She pecked his chin and nudged him until he turned to her. As soon as their gazes met, the concern in hers told him she'd continue to pepper him with questions. But he wasn't about to let his misplaced doubts spoil her evening. And he knew the perfect way to distract them both.

A new song started. An oldie that sang of Jupiter and Mars, playfulness among the stars. He cupped her cheek, thumb sweeping the corner of her mouth. "Dance with me," he said. Before accepting his proffered palm, she laid a sloppy kiss on him. With a flutter of her eyelashes, she grinned, and his smile grew to match her own. As he held her side, led her in a slow, swaying circle, he marveled at her. At her ability to soothe every molecule, every lingering ache. Self-assurance welled in him, chased away his earlier dejection. He cradled her to his lanky frame, trembled and felt himself blush. She was the only woman for him. That was as certain as his cigarette habit.

Despite Patricia's reassurances she was fine, that Robert working late wasn't unusual, Y/N insisted on staying until he got home. Though Arthur would have preferred they take their leave an hour earlier, being allowed to smoke inside blunted his grumbling. The disarming flirtations she bestowed on him also didn't hurt. She'd pour herself a drink (four in total, if he counted correctly), help Patricia make a plate of leftovers for her husband, then throw him a wink. Whisper and cackle while cleaning, then kiss his temple.

Around midnight, Patricia put her foot down. Ushered them out with a promise to call and a hug fierce enough to crush his ribs. She raised a brow at Y/N's unsteady gait, grasped Arthur's arm, and said with a wry, tired smile, "Make sure you put that woman straight to bed." His dark brows shot up and held. Had she intended a pun? Or had Y/N's spare caresses caused the interpretation? Either way, he liked being trusted to take care of her. And the hint of arousal that flared in his belly.

By the time they stumbled into their apartment, that arousal had reduced to a dull exhaustion. She kicked off her heels on the way to the bathroom, calling a slurred "night!" as she closed the door. Yawning, he put dish soap and hot water in the crockpot, scrubbed burned bits of sauce from its rim, turned it upside down on a towel to dry. Once he'd brushed his teeth for one minute rather than the recommended two, he tossed his sweater, trousers, briefs, and socks in the hamper, and went to the bedroom. He found his blue pajamas in their usual spot, the chair in the corner, and slid them up his skinny but toned legs. Tucked in next to her, he was carried to sleep on waves of fatigue and her quiet, wet snoring.

~~~~~

A tickle threatened to rouse him. Whispers along the waistband of his bottoms. Heat snuggled his back. Delightfully drowsy, he cuddled deeper into cozy, cream-color sheets, already returning to a pleasant, dreamless slumber. But a rumble of exhaust, likely from a bus that needed a new muffler, dragged him to consciousness. Arthur grumbled and tucked his arm under his pillow, not ready to transition to a world of overcrowding and concrete, commotion and bad jokes.

Yet, Y/N's insistent grazes continued, luring him with promises of placid pleasure. Her toes wiggled at his heel until he made space for her to slip her foot between his ankles. The corner of his mouth quirked. He was reminded of last night's playfulness, her endless teasing. The way he'd held the crockpot as a shield to fend off her advances on the train home, her forwardness to the point that he would've preferred having a laminated card to present on her behalf. Forgive my wife: she has a condition. It causes frequent and uncontrollable displays of affection.

Nimble fingers edged lower, loosened the tie of his pajamas before dipping beneath the loose elastic to lace through his dark brown curls, darker than the chestnut hair on his head. Her knuckles ran over him, lazy caresses full of intent. Up and down, up and down. Delicate. Deliberate. The blood racing to his groin, the pleasant swelling, made his abdomen twitch. Soon full and heavy, the sensitive tip straining the cotton seams, he pressed his lips together. When she skimmed the tender skin resting on his inner thigh, he flexed the muscle at the base of his erection. It bobbed and hit her wrist and she let loose a girlish giggle, more intoxicating than wine.

With her left leg draped over him at the knee, she undulated against his rear. Plush lips brushed the boney knobs of his spine, damp breath fanned the nape of his neck, labored, needy. Pebbled nipples grazed his back through the thin nylon of her nightgown, taunting and compelling. He made up his mind to throw an arm around her, to yank her on top of him. To eagerly take part in her seduction.

But she withdrew from his bottoms to palm his stomach and plant a gentle kiss to the shell of his ear, whispering, "Sleep tight." The mattress shifted and she rolled away from him. He furrowed his brows. She rarely relented this easily - other times he'd awakened, hard and aching, enveloped by the captivating wetness of her mouth. What was she up to?

Covers rustled. Her calf bumped his. And the opposite of what he'd assumed occurred. Instead of light footfalls leading out of the room, there was silence, silence that seemed to stretch on and on...

Until a hitched gasp gave her away.

Touching herself. She was touching herself. She'd just been all over him, acted like he was some sort of model on the cover of Vue magazine, and now she was touching herself. Right beside him! Ecstatic to have inspired such brazenness, he grinned and fisted the pillow. Her fleeting, stifled moans tangled him in knots, implored him to give her what they both burned for.

He flipped in her direction, his hand shooting under the sheet to grab hers. "Gotcha."

Eyes wide, she gaped at him in surprise. But adoration softened her expression as she entwined their fingers. "How long have you been awake?" she asked.

"Long enough."

He stretched to rewind the shades, the diaphanous curtains staying in place. Sunlight diffused over them, wrapped around her face, lent her disheveled hair a warm luster. He twirled a feathered lock and pecked her eyelids. "Finishing what you started on the subway, hm?"

"Me?" Y/N brought his knuckles to her mouth.  "You're the one who came to bed without any underwear."

"Well, it was a late night." The pad of his thumb tugged at her bottom lip to reveal the pink tip of her tongue. He bent to claim it. "I was lucky to find my pajamas."

Chuckling, she broke their connection. "Did you have a good time?"

"Yeah. The cake was good. And the music. Everyone was nice."

"Patricia loved having you there. She thought you were very sweet." A pause as she mapped a dimple. "Matt said he'd upset you. Something stupid about breaking up?"

Vague shadows of discomfort flashed through Arthur, a frustration he'd mostly moved on from. He did his best to ignore it, waving her concern away. "Don't worry about it."

"He was just jealous, you know." Her nails ran along the small of his back. "He wants Laura to look at him the way I look at you."

Arthur had spent so much of his life yearning for change, to understand his purpose in the world and improve himself. The idea that a man with a good education, a successful career, and no disabilities could ever be jealous of him was, frankly, bizarre. But he didn't correct Y/N, instead locking her praise within his heart, preserving it for when he needed it most. He boosted himself on his forearm and fiddled with her V-neck, traced its button loops as he slipped the plastic knobs through them. "And how's that?'

A hint of scandal glimmered in her irises. She arched into him as he eased a strap down her upper arm to reveal her shapely breast, the lilac fabric momentarily catching on its taut peak. "Like I can't get enough of you."

He huffed at that, fondled her faintly before his lips met the velvety skin of her chest. A tonic comprised of the musk oil she'd dabbed on before the party and distinct sexual wanting wafted to his nostrils. He licked at her nipple, the bumps on her areola, and drew it between his teeth. She whined softly and lifted the bottom of her nightdress to her waist.

Hurriedly, he yanked on the waistband of her cotton panties, pushed them past her knees. She kicked them off while he knelt to lower his bottoms. Straddling her, he pumped himself back to hardness and opened the drawer of her nightstand. He searched haphazardly until he retrieved a small, glass bottle of lubricant. (She'd ordered it from a mail catalog, both of them a bit too bashful to walk into an adult shop, even together.)

She snagged it from him and poured half a teaspoon in her hand, then palmed herself. He moved between her legs and she grasped his length, coating him with the warm, slippery liquid. He pushed forward into her. Gradually, slowly, savoring every millimeter of her enticing heat. He noted the stretch of her mouth, the jut of her jaw, the lifting of her upper lip. "Mmm..." she breathed and begged him to keep going. When he did, her head tilted back into the pillow, eyelids falling shut. A smile cut across her cheeks as she purred her satisfaction. "Arthur, I love you."

His touch wandered down the curve of her thigh. At the sight of her subtle writhing beneath him, the sway of her slightly uneven breasts in time with his languid thrusts, he pushed her knee into the mattress, splayed her wider. He grunted lowly. "Look at me."

Their gazes met but didn't hold for long; hers dropped to where they were joined. She caressed right above his pubic bone. "I love seeing you like this." Her fingertips walked a line up his sternum to his chest. "And touching you like this." She wrapped her arms around his middle and drew him to her, locked their lips in a greedy kiss. "And making love like this."

He snorted. "I think this is the only reason you married me."

"Well, not the only reason. There's your good hair, too."

"I've been thinking about cutting it. Trying something new."

"Don't you dare." She tugged at his loose curls, wore her best pout. "What else would I hold onto when we're doing this?"

Laughing lightly, he bumped his nose to hers. Falling into her was like falling into his old fantasies, the ones that'd sustained him through years of isolation. Dates at diners, at comedy clubs, at donut shops, at home. Their shapes had changed as he'd matured, his role in them, his aspirations and infatuations. But they'd remained a warm comfort nonetheless, a place that felt like belonging. And now he belonged with her. Hunger filled him. Happiness. And love. So much love, more than he'd ever believed he'd carried in him. He bucked a little harder. "You feel so good," he murmured. "You make me feel so good."

A strained cry left her and her pelvis answered his steady rhythm with demands of its own. Her calves rose to squeeze him closer, encircle his narrow hips. They were pressed together so tightly; it felt like they were one flesh. He never wanted it to stop. But a dizzying euphoria had ignited, one that eclipsed the romantic yearnings of his heart, twisting his desire to last all morning into the desperate drive to possess her. Gasping, Arthur raised himself to his knees, delving deeper with each push. Their foreheads met and he grit his teeth at the scald of her, the texture of her walls. She fit as though she'd been made for him.

He supposed she was.

Pressure began in the base of him, building and building in terrific torment. The muscles of his inner thighs contracted inward. Tingling climbed his shaft, his tailbone, his spine. He wove his fingers into the sheet, his grip a vise that wrested its corner from the mattress. She kissed the spot where his jaw met his neck, all the while murmuring encouragements for him to let himself go.

Bliss shot through him, from the tips of his toes to the follicles on his scalp, and his back stiffened as he whimpered and poured into. Fever engulfed his frame, sublime in its frenzy, leaving him in a heady stupor. Aftershocks made him tremble. Once, twice. Until, sated and spent, he landed on top her. He closed his eyes, ribs rising and falling as he forced air into his lungs.

A minute later, he swallowed and looked down at her. "You didn't come."

She carded through his sweaty locks. "It's all righ-"

"Shh." He slid out of her and settled at her side, reached between her legs to swipe at her core. "I'm not done," he declared, tracing the edges of her entrance, slick and swollen. One of his favorite things about getting her off was demonstrating his prowess in bed, how well he'd learned with her. His thumb met her plump clitoral hood, and he felt her throb beneath his ministrations.

Nails biting his bicep, she rocked upwards. A bewitching blush crept up her breast, her neck, spread across her cheeks. Shallow pants hit his face, short puffs suffused with high-pitched whines, utterly irresistible. He circled her nub at a steady cadence, tapping when she'd shiver, and she clasped the back of his hand. He swirled his tongue around her nipple, sucked the pretty peak, and lowered the other strap of her nightgown to bare her completely. A hushed plea fell from her lips. "Please, please..."

Suddenly, her vulva grew white hot and she seized, her hips stuttering with each flutter of his touch to her folds. She thrusts her breasts towards him, a sharp moan caught in her throat. Liquid pooled against his fingers, proof of her rapture that made him wish, with mild amusement, that he could be an unmedicated young man again. He would've gladly taken her a second time.

Giggling and rubbing her temple, she released a long exhale and opened her eyes. He brushed her hair back and grinned, completely smitten, like the first time he'd heard a joke and understood the punchline. The light brown picture frame on his nightstand caught his attention, and he regarded the wallet size photo in it, one of the shots of Y/N from the booth at Amusement Mile. The last thing he looked at before turning in each night. He lay his head her shoulder and hummed, listened to the drum of her heart.

She smooched his hairline and wriggled out from beneath him to stand. Her nightie had been reduced to a crumpled stripe of lilac cinched about her waist. It felt tawdry and shameless and he wanted to see her in it for the rest of the weekend. But she peeled it down her legs, wrinkling her nose when it got stuck on her thighs, and stepped out of it one foot at a time. She dropped it on the floral bedspread and retrieved her bathrobe from the closet. "Meet you in the kitchen," she said, opening the door.

The sun had risen higher, its beams slanting across the covers. He basked in it, catlike, then swung his legs over the side of the bed. He pulled on his pajamas, got a new pair of socks from their dresser, and made his way to the kitchen. He washed off the remnants of Y/N's arousal from his fingers, popped open a prescription bottle and took a tablet. He poured water into the coffeemaker, grabbed the can of grounds from the second shelf, added three scoops to the paper filter. Their three-tone brown mugs sat in their spot next to the machine, waiting to be filled.

When the glass coffeepot was half full, Y/N emerged from the bathroom, chuckling to herself. She opened the breadbox on the opposite counter and took out a wax paper bag. "Do you have any idea how dull this morning would have been if we'd never met? I'd have read the Sunday paper, had a drink. Probably worked on a file." He handed her a couple dessert plates, watched her put a donut on each one. "I wonder where you'd be. What woman you'd have breakfast with, what jokes you'd be writing, what magic tricks you'd have learned."

"Um..." At first he wanted to ask where this speculation had come from, if Matt had let her in on exactly what he'd said. But the confident slant of her smirk told Arthur she was teasing. He tried to play along but winced. No matter how appealing, how extraordinary she found him, his gut told him there wouldn't have been another woman. There'd be no more stand-up routines, no more Carnival. He certainly wouldn't be taking care of Penny. He'd likely be locked up in the hospital, maybe even dead. Without an anchor, his life would have lost what little sense it had.

Y/N was one of his anchors now, hooked into the sand alongside his material, treatment, the ability to pay bills. He seized her hand and squeezed it tight, unaware he was squishing her fingers. "I don't wanna think about it," he said quietly.

She sidled up to him and pulled him to her side. Rubbed his flank soothingly and pecked the corner of his mouth. "Don't worry." She took his chin and guided him to look at her. The intimate comfort of her smile helped him believe her next words, even before she spoke them. "I'll always be here."

~~~~~

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[wits-writing]

What’s so Funny About Vengeance, the Night, and Batman? – Two Superhero Parodies in Conversation

Back in 2016, the first trailers for Director Chris McKay’s The Lego Batman Movie hit. A spinoff of the take on the iconic hero, voiced by Will Arnett, from 2014’s The Lego Movie. Those trailers spelled out a plot covering how Batman’s life of crimefighting is turned upside down when Robin unexpectedly enters the picture. It was a funny trailer, promising another insightful comedy from the crew behind The Lego Movie. A promise it handily delivered on when it came out in February 2017 with an animated feature steeped wall-to-wall jokes for the sake of mocking Bruce Wayne’s angst filled crusade that can only come from understanding what’s made the character withstand the test of time.

But there was a thought I and others had from seeing that trailer up to watching the actual movie:

“This seems… familiar.”

Holy Musical B@man! is a 2012 fan-made stage production parody of DC Comics’ biggest cash cow. It was produced as the fifth musical from YouTube-based cult phenomenon Starkid Productions, from a book by Matt and Nick Lang, music by Nick Gage and Scott Lamp with lyrics by Gage. The story of the musical details how Robin’s unexpected entrance ends up turning Batman’s (Joe Walker) life of crimefighting upside down. Among Starkids’ fandom derived projects in their early existence, as they’ve mainly moved on to well-received original material in recent years, Holy Musical B@man! is my personal favorite. I go back to it frequently, appreciating it as a fan of both superheroes and musicals. (Especially since good material that touches on both of those isn’t exactly easy to come by. Right, Spider-Man?)

While I glibly summarized the similarities between them by oversimplifying their plots, there’s a lot in the details, both major and minor, that separates how they explore themes like solitude, friendship, love, and what superhero stories mean. It’s something I’ve wanted to dig into for a while and I found a lot in both of them I hadn’t considered before by putting them in conversation. I definitely recommend watching both of them, because of how in-depth this piece goes including discussing their endings. However, nothing I can say will replace the experience of watching them and if I had included everything I could’ve commented on in both of them, this already massive piece would easily be twice as long minimum.

Up front, I want to say this isn’t about comparing The Lego Batman Movie and Holy Musical B@man in terms of quality. Not only are they shaped for vastly different mediums with different needs/expectations, animation versus stagecraft, but they also had different resources at their disposal. Even if both are in some ways riffing on the aesthetic of the 1990s Batman movies and the Adam West TV show, Lego Batman does it with the ability to make gorgeously animated frames packed to the brim with detail while Holy Musical often leans into its low-fi aesthetic of characters miming props and sets to add extra humor. They’re also for different audiences, Lego Batman clearly for all-ages while Holy Musical has the characters cursing for emphasis on a regular basis. On top of those factors, after picking through each of these for everything worth commenting on that I could find, I can’t say which I wholly prefer thanks in part to these fundamental differences.

This piece is more about digging through the details to explore the commonalities, differences, and what makes them effective mocking love letters to one of the biggest superheroes in existence.

(Also, since I’m going to be using the word “Batman” a lot, I’ll be calling Lego Batman just “Batman” and referring to the version from Holy Musical as “B@man”, with the exception of quoted dialogue.)

[Full Piece Under the Cut]

Setting the Tone

The beginning is, in fact, a very good place to start when discussing how these parodies frame their versions of the caped crusader. Each one uses a song about lavishing their respective Batmen with praise about how they are the best superheroes ever and play over sequences of the title hero kicking wholesale ass. A key distinction comes in who’s singing each song. Holy Musical B@man’s self-titled opening number is sung from the perspective of an omniscient narrator recounting B@man’s origin and later a chorus made up of the Gotham citizenry. Meanwhile, “Who’s the (Bat) Man” from Lego Batman is a brag-tacular song written by Batman about himself, even playing diegetically for all his villains to hear as he beats them up.

Holy Musical opens on a quick recap of Batman’s origin:

“One shot, Two shots in the night and they’re gone And he’s all left alone He’s just one boy Two dead at his feet and their blood stains the street And there’s nothing, no there’s nothing he can do!”

We then get a Bat-dance break as the music goes from slow and moody to energetic to reflect Batman turning that tragedy into the driving force behind his one-man war on crime. Assured by the narrator that he’s “the baddest man that there’s ever been!” and “Now there’s nothing, no there’s nothing he can’t do!” flipping the last lyric of the first verse. For the rest of the opening scene the lyrics matter less than what’s happening to establish both this fan-parody’s version of Batman and how the people of Gotham (“he’ll never refuse ‘em”) view him.

Lego Batman skips the origin recap, and in general talks around the death of the Waynes to keep the light tone going since it’s still a kids movie about a popular toy even if there are deeper themes at play. Instead, it continues a trend The Lego Movie began for this version of the character writing music about how he’s an edgy, dark, awesome, cool guy. While that movie kept it to Batman angry-whiteboy-rapping about “Darkness! NO PARENTS!”, this one expands to more elaborate boasts in the song “Who’s the (Bat) Man” by Patrick Stump:

“In the darkest night I make the bad guys fall There’s a million heroes But I’m the best of them all!”

Batman singing this song about himself, as opposed to having it sung by others aims the crosshairs of parody squarely on the hero’s ego. His abilities make fighting his villains effortless, like this opening battle is more an opportunity to perform the song than a life-or-death struggle. Even Joker’s aware of that as he shouts, “Stop him before he starts singing!” This Batman doesn’t see himself as missing out on anything in life, even if he still feels that deep down. Being Batman is the coolest thing in the world that anyone would envy. He’s Batman, therefore everyone should envy him.

The songs aren’t only part of the equation for how these two works’ opening scenes establish their leading hero. While both songs are about Batman being cool, they’re separated by the accompanying scenes. Lego Batman keep the opening within the Joker’s perspective until Batman shows up and the action kicks in. Once it does, we’re shown a Batman at the top of his solo-hero game. Meanwhile, Holy Musical’s opening is about B@man building his reputation and by the end of the song he has all the citizens of Gotham singing his praises with the titular lyrics. Both are about being in awe of the title hero, one framed by Joker’s frustration at Batman’s ease in foiling his schemes yet again and the other about the people of Gotham growing to love their city’s hero (probably against their better judgement.)

That’s woven into the fabric of what kind of schemes Batman is foiling in each of these. Joker’s plan to bomb Gotham with the help of every supervillain in Batman’s Rogues Gallery is hilariously high stakes and the type of plan most Batman stories, even parodies, would save for the climax. Neatly exemplified by how that’s almost the exact structure of Holy Musical’s final showdown. Starting with these stakes works as an extension of this Batman’s nature as a living children’s toy and therefore the embodiment of a child’s idea of what makes Batman cool, his ability to wipe the floor with anyone that gets in his way “because he’s Batman.” It also emphasizes Joker as the only member of the Rogues Gallery that matters to Lego Batman’s story, every other Bat-villain is either a purely visual cameo or only gets a couple lines maximum.

The crime’s being stopped by B@man are more in the “Year One” gangster/organized crime category rather than anything spectacle heavy. Though said crimes are comically exaggerated:

Gangster 1: Take these here drugs, put ‘em into them there guns, and then hand ‘em out to those gamblin’ prostitutes! Gangster 2: Should we really be doing these illegal activities? In a children’s hospital for orphans?

These fit into that model of crime the Dark Knight fights in his early days and add tiny humanizing moments between the crooks (“Oh, Matches! You make me laugh like nobody else!”) in turn making the arrival of B@man and the violence he deals out a stronger punchline. Further emphasized by the hero calling out the exact physical damage he does with each hit before warning them to never do crime again saying, “Support your families like the rest of us! Be born billionaires!” Later in the song his techniques get more extreme and violence more indiscriminate, as he uses his Bat-plane to patrol and gun down whoever he sees as a criminal, including a storeowner accidentally taking a single dollar from his own register. (“God’s not up here! Only Batman!”)

A commonality between these two openings is how Commissioner Jim Gordon gets portrayed. Both are hapless goofs at their core, playing more on the portrayal of the character in the 60s TV show and 90s Burton/Schumacher movies than the serious-minded character present in comics, Nolan’s Dark Knight Trilogy, and other adaptations. Lauren Lopez’s portrayal in Holy Musical gets overwhelmed by everything thrown at him, eventually giving up and getting out of B@man’s way (“I’m not gonna tell Batman what to do! He’s Batman!”) Hector Elizondo’s Gordon in Lego Batman clearly reached the “stay out of Batman’s way” point a long time ago, happy to have “the guy who flips on the Bat-signal” be his sole defining trait. While the characterizations are close, their roles do end up differing. Lopez’s Gordon sticks around to have a few more comedic scenes as the play goes on, where Elizondo’s exist to set up a contrast with his daughter Barbara and her way of approaching Batman when she becomes Police Commissioner.

These opening sequences both end in similar manners as well; the citizens of Gotham lavishing praise on their respective Batmen and a confrontation between Batman and the Joker. Praise from the citizenry in Holy Musical comes on the heels of a letter from B@man read out on the news about how much they and the city of Gotham suck. They praise B@man for his angsty nature as a “dark hero” and how they “wouldn’t want him any other way!”, establishing the motif of Gotham’s citizens in Holy Musical as stand-ins for the Batman fandom. Lego Batman uses the praise of the Gotham citizens after Batman’s victory in the opening scene as a lead in to contrast their certainty that Batman must have an exciting private life with the reality we’re shown. Which makes sense since Lego-Batman’s relationship to the people of Gotham is never presented as something at stake.

Greater contrast comes in how the confrontations with the Joker are handled, Lego Batman has an argument between the hero and villain that’s intentionally coded as relationship drama, Batman saying “There is no ‘us’” when Joker declares himself Batman’s greatest enemy. The confrontation in Holy Musical gets purposefully underplayed as an offstage encounter narrated to the audience as a Vicki Vale news report. This takes Joker off the board for the rest of the play in contrast to the Batman/Joker relationship drama that forms one of Lego Batman’s key pillars. While they take different forms, the respective citizenry praise and villain confrontation parts of these openings lead directly into the number one common thematic element between these Bat-parodies: Batman’s loneliness.

One is the Darkest, Saddest, Loneliest Number

Batman as an isolated hero forms one of the core tenants of the most popular understanding of the character. Each of these parodies picks at that beyond the broody posturing. There’s no dedicated segment in this piece about how these works’ versions of the title character function bleeds into every other aspect of them, but each starts from the idea of Batman as a man-child with trouble communicating his emotions. Time’s taken to give the audience a view of where their attitudes have left them early in the story.

Both heroes show their loneliness through interactions with their respective Alfreds. Holy Musical has the stalwart butler, played by Chris Allen, try to comfort B@man by asking if he has any friends he enjoys being around. When B@man cites Lucius Fox as a friend he calls him right away, only to discover Lucius Fox is Alfred’s true identity and Alfred Pennyworth was an elaborate ruse he came up with to protect Bruce on his father’s wishes. Ironically, finding out his closest friend was living a double life causes Bruce to push Alfred away (the play keeps referring to him as Alfred after this, so that’s what I’m going to do as well.) After he’s fired he immediately comes back in a new disguise as “O’Malley the Irish Butler” (same outfit he wore before but with a Party City Leprechaun hat.) That’s unfortunately the start of a running gag in Holy Musical that ends up at the worst joke in the play, when Alfred disguises himself as “Quon Li the Chinese Butler” doing an incredibly cringeworthy “substituting L’s for R’s” bit with his voice. It’s been my least favorite bit in the play since I first saw it in 2012 and legitimately makes me hesitate at times to recommend it. Even if it’s relatively small bit and the rest holds ups.

That disclaimer out of the way, that conversation between B@man and Alfred leads into the title hero reflecting on his sadness through the musical’s I Want Song, “Dark, Sad, Lonely Knight.” The song’s split into two halves, the first Alfred reflecting on whether he played a part in Bruce’s current condition and the second B@man longing for a connection. The song does a good job balancing between the sincerity over the hero’s sadness and getting good laughs out of it:

“Think of the children Next time you gun down the mama and papa Their only mama and papa Because they probably don’t have another mama and papa!”

The “I Want” portion of the song coming in the end with the repetition of the lryics “I want to be somebody’s buddy.”

Rather than another song number, Lego Batman covers Batman’s sadness through a pair of montages and visual humor. The first comes after the opening battle, where we see Batman taking off all his costume except for the mask hanging out alone in Wayne Manor, showing how little separation he puts between identities. Compared to Holy Musical where the equivalent scene is the first we see of Bruce without the mask on, which may come down to practicality since anyone who’s worn a mask like that knows they get hot and sweaty fast. Batman is constantly made to appear small among the giant empty rooms of his estate as he eats dinner, jams on his guitar, and watches romantic movies alone.

Ralph Fienne’s Alfred coming in at the end of this sequence witnessing Batman looking at a photo of himself as a boy with his parents for the last time. Alfred outlines Batman’s fear of being part of a family again only to be met with Batman denying he has any feelings ever. Pennyworth’s role as a surrogate father gets put into greater focus here than in Holy Musical, as we get glimpses of Alfred reading a book titled “How to Deal with Your Out-of-Control Child.” Also shown in smaller scenes of Alfred dealing with Batman’s insistent terminology for his crime fighting equipment, like calling his cowl an “armored face disguise.”

Batman’s denial of his pain contrasts how B@man wallows in it. Though he’s forced to confront it a little as the Joker’s plan ends up leaving him with no crimefighting to fall back on to ignore his issues. This montage gets set to the song “One” by Harry Nilsson and details Batman, unable to express his true feelings, eventually letting them out in the form of tempter tantrums. There’s also some humor through juxtaposition as Batman walks solemnly through the streets of Gotham City, rendered black and white, as the citizens chant “No more crime!” in celebration, while flipping over cars and firing guns into the air.

A disruption to their loneliness eventually comes in the form of a sensational character find.

Robin – The Son/BFF Wonder

Between both Bat-parodies, the two Robins’ characterizations are as close as anyone’s between them. Each is nominally Dick Grayson but are ultimately more representative of the idea of Robin as the original superhero sidekick and his influence on Batman’s life. The play and movie also both make the obvious jokes about Dick’s name and the classic Robin costume’s lack of pants at different points. Dick’s origin also gets sidestepped in each version to skip ahead to the part where he starts being an influence in Batman’s life.

Robin’s introduction to the comics in Detective Comics #38 in 1940, marking the start of Batman’s literal “Year Two” as a character, predating the introduction of Joker, Catwoman, and Alfred, among others. Making him Batman’s longest lasting ally in the character’s history. His presence and acrobatics shift the tone by adding a dash of swashbuckling to Batman’s adventures, inspired by the character’s namesake Robin Hood, though both parodies take a page out of Batman Forever and associate the name with the bird for the sake of a joke. Robin is as core to Batman as his origin, but more self-serious adaptations (i.e., the mainstream cinematic ones that were happening around the times both Holy Musical and Lego Batman came out) tend to avoid the character’s inclusion. These two works being parody, therefore anything but self-serious, give themselves permission to examine why Robin matters and how different characters react to his presence. Rejection of Robin as a character and concept comes out in some form in each of these works, from Batman himself in Lego Batman and the Gotham citizens in Holy Musical.

The chain of events that lead to Dick becoming Robin in Lego Batman are a string of consequences for Batman’s self-absorption. A scene of Bruce barely listening as Dick asks for advice on getting adopted escalating to absentmindedly signing the adoption paperwork. Batman doesn’t realize he has a son until after his sadness montage. Alfred forces Batman to start interacting with Dick against his will. The broody loner wanting nothing to do with the cheery kid, played to “golly gee gosh” perfection by Michael Cera, until he sees the utility of him. Batman doesn’t even have the idea to give Robin a costume or codename because he clearly views the sidekick’s presence as a temporary measure for breaking into Superman’s fortress, made clear by how he lists “expendable” as a quality Dick needs if he wants to go on a mission.

This makes Robin the catalyst for Batman’s shifting perspective throughout Lego Batman. When Robin succeeds in his first mission, the Dark Knight is hesitant to truly compliment him and chalks up his ward’s feats to “unbelievable obeying.” Other moments have Robin’s presence poke holes in Batman’s tough guy demeanor, like the first time Batman and Robin ride in the Bat-mobile together, Robin asks where the seatbelts are and Batman growls “Life doesn’t give you seatbelts!”, only for Batman to make a sudden stop causing Robin to hit his head on the windshield and Batman genuinely apologizes. They share more genuine moments together as the film goes, like Batman suggesting they beatbox together to keeps their spirits up after they’ve been imprisoned for breaking into Arkham Asylum. Robin’s representative of Batman gradually letting people in throughout these moments.

On the exact opposite end of the spectrum, B@man needs zero extra prompting to let Robin into his life. Nick Lang’s Robin (henceforth called “Rob!n” to keep with this arbitrary naming scheme I’ve concocted) does get brought into his life by Alfred thanks to a personal ad (“‘Dog for sale’? No… ‘Orphan for sale’! Even better!”) but it’s a short path to B@man deciding to let Dick fight alongside him. The briefest hesitance on the hero’s part, “To be Batman… is to be alone”, is quelled by Rob!n saying “We could be alone… together.” Their first scene together quickly establishing the absurd sincerity exemplified by this incarnation of the Dynamic Duo. An energy carried directly into the Act 1 closing number, “The Dynamic Duet”, a joyful ode between the heroes about how they’re “Long lost brothers who found each other” sung as they beat up supervillains (and the occasional random civilian.)

That song also ties into the contrast between the Batman/Robin dynamic and the B@man/Rob!n one. While Holy Musical is portraying a brotherly/BFF bond between the two heroes, Lego Batman leans into the surrogate son angle. While both are mainly about their stories’ Batman being able to connect with others, the son angle of Lego Batman adds an additional layer of “Batman needs to take responsibility for himself and others” and a parallel to Alfred as Batman’s own surrogate father. It also adds to the queer-coding of Batman in Lego Batman as Batman’s excuse to Robin for why he can go on missions is that Bruce and he are sharing custody, Robin even calling Batman’s dual identities “dads” before he knows the truth.

In the absence of the accepting personal responsibility through fatherhood element, the conflict Rob!n brings out in Holy Musical forms between B@man and the citizens of Gotham. “Citizens as stand-ins for fandom” is at it’s clearest here as the Act 2 opener is called “Robin Sucks!” featuring the citizens singing about how… well, you read the title. Their objections to Rob!n’s existence has nothing to do with what the young hero has done or failed to do, but come from arguments purely about the aesthetic of Rob!n fighting alongside B@man. Most blatantly shown by one of the citizens wearing a Heath Ledger Joker t-shirt saying Rob!n’s presence “ruins the gritty realism of a man who fights crime dressed as a bat.” It works as the Act 2 opener by establishing that B@man and the citizens conflicting opinions on his sidekick end up driving that half of the story, exemplified in B@man’s complete confusion about why people hate Rob!n (“Robin ruined Batman? But that’s not true… Robin make Batman happy.”)

Both Robins play into the internal conflict their respective mentors are going through, but what would a superhero story, even a parody, be without some colorful characters to provide that sweet external conflict.

Going Rogue

Both works have the threat comes from an army of villains assembled under a ringleader, Zach Galifianakis’s Joker in Lego Batman and Jeff Blim as Sweet Tooth in Holy Musical. Both lead the full ensemble of Batman’s classic (and not so classic) Rogues at different points. As mentioned before Joker starts Lego Batman with “assemble the Rogues, blow up Gotham” as his plan, while Sweet Tooth with his candy prop comedy becoming the ringleader of Gotham’s villains is a key turning point in Act 1 of the play. Part of this comes down to how their connections to their respective heroes and environments are framed, Sweet Tooth as a new player on the scene and Joker as Batman’s romantic foil.

Lego Batman demonstrates Batman and Joker are on “finishing each other’s sentences” levels of intimate that Batman refuses to acknowledge. Shown best in how Joker’s plan only works because he can predict exactly how Batman will act once he starts playing hard to get. When he surrenders the entire Rogues Gallery (without telling them) and himself to police custody, he describes it as him being “off the market.” He knows Batman won’t settle for things ending on these terms and tricks the hero into stealing Superman’s Phantom Zone projector so he can recruit a new, better team of villains for a take two of his masterplan from the start. Going through all this trouble to get Batman to say those three magic words; “I love hate you.” Joker as the significant other wanting his partner to finally reciprocate his feelings and commit works both as a play on how the Batman/Joker relationship often gets approached and an extension of the central theme. Batman is so closed off to interpersonal connections he can’t even properly hate his villains.

Sweet Tooth, while clearly being a riff Heath Ledger and Caesar Romero’s Jokers fused with a dash of Willy Wonka, doesn’t have that kind of connection with B@man. Though there are hints that B@man and his recently deceased Joker may have had one on that level. He laments “[Joker]’s in heaven with mom and dad. Making them laugh, I know it!” when recalling how the Clown Prince of Crime was the one person he enjoyed being around. This makes Joker’s death one of the key triggers to B@man reflecting on his solitude at the start of the play.

What Sweet Tooth provides the story is a threat to B@man’s new bond with Rob!n. Disrupting that connection forms the delicious center of the Candy King of Crime’s plan in Act 2. He holds Rob!n and Gotham’s people hostage and asks the citizens to decide via Facebook poll if the sidekick lives or dies (in reference to the infamous phone hotline vote from the comic book story A Death in the Family where readers could decide the Jason Todd Robin’s fate.)

With the rest of the villains under the leadership of the respective works’ main antagonists, there’s commentary on their perceived quality as threats. When Holy Musical has Superman talking to Green Lantern about how much B@man’s popularity frustrates him, he comes down especially hard on the Caped Crusader’s villains. Talking about how they all coast by on simple gimmicks with especially harsh attention given to Two Face’s being “the number two.” Saying they’re only famous because B@man screws up and they get to do more damage. Which he compares to his own relationship with his villains:

Superman: You ever heard of Mr. Mxyzptlk? Green Lantern: No. Superman: No, that’s right! That’s because I do my job!

Lego Batman has commentary on the other villains come from Joker, recognizing that even all together they can never beat Batman, because that’s how a Batman story goes. The other villains get portrayed as generally buffoonish, struggling to even build a couch together and described by Joker as “losers dressed in cosplay.” Tricking Batman into sending him to the Phantom Zone provides him the opportunity to gather villains from outside Batman’s mythos and outside DC Comics in general. Recruiting the likes of Sauron, King Kong, Daleks, Agent Smith from The Matrix, and the Wicked Witch of the West, among others. When I first saw and reviewed The Lego Batman Movie, this bugged me because it felt like a missed opportunity to feature lesser-known villains from other DC heroes’ Rogues Galleries. Now, considering the whole movie as meta-commentary on the status of this Batman as a children’s toy, it makes perfect sense that Joker would need to go outside of comics to break the rules of a typical Batman story and have a shot at winning.

The Rogues of Holy Musical get slightly more of a chance to shine, if only because their song “Rogues are We” is one of the catchier tracks from the play. They’re all still more cameo than character when all’s said and done, but Sweet Tooth entering the picture is about him recognizing their potential to operate as a unit, takeover Gotham, and kill B@man. The candy-pun flinging villain wants all of them together, no matter their perceived quality.

Sweet Tooth: “We need every villain in Gotham. Cool themes, lame themes, themes that don’t match their powers, even the villains that take their names from public domain stories.” (Two Face’s “broke ass” still being the exception.)

Both Joker and Sweet Tooth provide extensions of the shared theme of Batman dealing with the new connections in his life, especially with regards to Robin. However, Robin isn’t the only other ally (or potential ally) these Dark Knights have on their side.

Super Friends(?)

The internal crisis of these Caped Crusaders come as much from how they react to other heroic figures as it does from supervillainous machinations. In both cases how Batman views and is viewed by fellow heroes gets centered on a specific figure, Superman in Holy Musical and Commissioner Barbara Gordon (later Batgirl) in Lego Batman. Each serves a vastly different purpose in the larger picture of their stories and relationship to their respective Batmen. Superman reflecting B@man’s loneliness and Barbara symbolizing a new path forward for Batman’s hero work.

Superman’s role in Holy Musical runs more parallel to Lego Batman’s Joker than Barbara. Brian Holden’s performance as the Man of Tomorrow plays into a projected confidence covering anxiety that nobody likes him. Besting the Bat-plane in a race during B@man’s Key to the City ceremony establishes a one upmanship between the two heroes, like Joker’s description of his relationship with Batman at the end of Lego Batman’s opening battle. Though instead of that romantically coded relationship from Lego Batman, this relationship is more connected to childish jealousy. (But if you do want to read the former into Holy Musical B@man, neither hero has an onstage relationship with any woman and part of their eventual fight consist of spanking each other.)

B@man and Superman’s first real interaction is arguing over who’s the cooler hero until it degrades into yelling “Fuck you!” at each other. B@man storming off in the aftermath of that gets topped off by Superman suggesting he should get the Key to the City instead, citing his strength and longer tenure as a hero (“The first hero, by the way”) as justifications. This only results in the Gotham citizens turning on him for suggesting their city’s hero is anything less than the best, which serves both as a Sam Raimi Spider-Man reference (“You mess with one of us! You mess with all of us!”) and another example of the citizens as stand-ins for fandom. Superman’s veil of cocksureness comes off quickly after that and stays off for the rest of the play. Starting with his conversation with Green Lantern where a civilian comes across them, but barely acts like Superman’s there.

One of the play’s running gags is Superman calling B@man’s number and leaving messages, showing a desperation to reach out and connect with his fellow hero despite initial smugness. Even before the first phone call scene, we see Superman joining B@man to sing “I want to be somebody’s buddy” during “Dark, Sad, Lonely Knight” hinting at what’s to come. The note it consistently comes back to is that Superman’s jealousy stems from Batman’s popularity over him. This is a complete flip of what Lego Batman does with the glimpse at a Batman/Superman dynamic we see when Batman goes to the Superman’s fortress to steal the Phantom Zone projector. The rivalry dynamic there exists solely in Batman’s head, Lego-Superman quickly saying “I would crush you” when Batman suggests the idea of them fighting. Superman’s status among the other DC heroes is also night and day between these works. Where Lego-Superman’s only scene in the movie shows him hosting the Justice League Anniversary Party and explaining he “forgot” to invite Batman, Superman in Holy Musical consistently lies about having friends over (“All night long I’m busy partying with my friends at the Fortress… of Solitude.”)

Superman’s relationship to B@man in Holy Musical develops into larger antagonism thanks to lack of communication with B@man brushing off Supes’ invitations to hang out and fight bad guys (“Where were you for the Solomon Grundy thing? Ended up smaller than I thought, just a couple of cool guys. Me and… Solomon Grundy.”) His own loneliness gets put into stronger focus when he sees the news of Rob!n’s debut as a crimefighter, which makes him reflect on how he misses having Krypto the Super-Dog around. (The explanation for why he doesn’t have his dog anymore is one of my favorite jokes in the play and I won’t ruin it here.)

Where Superman’s a reflection of B@man’s loneliness, Rosario Dawson as Barbara in Lego Batman is a confrontation of Batman’s go it alone attitude. Her job in the story is to be the one poking holes in the foundation of Batman as an idea, starting with her speech at Jim Gordon’s retirement banquet and her instatement as commissioner. She has a by-the-book outlook on crimefighting with the omnicompetence to back it up, thanks to her training at “Harvard for Police.” Babs sees Batman’s current way of operating as ineffectual and wants him to be an official agent of the law. An idea that dumps a bucket of cold water on Batman’s crush he developed immediately upon seeing her, though that never fully goes away.

Her main point is that Batman “karate chopping poor people” hasn’t made Gotham better in his 80 years of operating. A contrast to Holy Musical’s Jim Gordon announcing that B@man has brought Gotham’s crime rates to an all-time low (“Still the highest in the world, but we’re working on it.”) She wants to see a Batman willing to work with other people. A hope dashed constantly dealing with his childish stubbornness as he tries to foil Joker’s schemes on his own, culminating in her arresting Batman and Robin for breaking into Arkham to send Joker to the Phantom Zone.

Barbara’s role as the one bringing grown-up attitudes and reality into Batman’s world does leave her in the role of comedic straight woman. Humor in her scenes comes from how she reacts to everyone else’s absurdity rather than anything she does to be funny. This works for the role she plays in Lego Batman, since she’s not there to have an arc the way Superman does in Holy Musical. She’s another catalyst for Batman’s to start letting people in as another character he grows to care about. Which starts after she lets the Dynamic Duo out of prison to fight Joker’s new army of Phantom Zone villains on the condition that he plays it by her rules. Leading to a stronger bond between Batman, Robin, Alfred, and her as they start working together.

The two Batmen’s relationships to other heroes, their villains, Robin, and their own solitude each culminate in their own way as their stories reach their conclusions.

Dark Knights & Dawning Realizations

As everything comes down to the final showdowns in these Bat-parodies, the two Caped Crusaders each confront their failures to be there for others and allow themselves to be vulnerable to someone they’ve been antagonizing throughout the story. Each climax has all of Gotham threatened by a bomb and the main villains’ plans coming to fruition only to come undone.

Holy Musical has Sweet Tooth’s kidnapping of Rob!n and forcing Gotham to choose themselves or the sidekick they hate sends B@man into his most exaggerated state in the entire play. It’s the classic superhero movie climax conundrum, duty as a hero versus personal attachment. Alfred, having revealed himself as the “other butlers”, even lampshades how these stories usually go only for that possibility to get shot down by Bruce:

Alfred: A true hero, Master Wayne, finds a way to choose both. B@man: You’re right, Alfred. I know what I have to do… Fuck Gotham, I’m saving Robin!

B@man’s selfishness effectively makes him the real villain of Holy Musical’s second act. Lego Batman has shades of that aspect as well, where Batman gets sent to the Phantom Zone by Joker for his repeated refusal to acknowledge their relationship. Where the AI running the interdimensional prison, Phyllis voiced by Ellie Kemper, confronts him with the way he’s treated Robin, Alfred, Barbara, and even Joker:

Phyllis: You’re not a traditional bad guy, but you’re not exactly a good guy either. You even abandoned your friends. Batman: No! I was trying to protect them! Phyllis: By pushing them away? Batman: Well… yeah. Phyllis: Are they really the ones you’re protecting?

Batman watches what’s happening back in Gotham and sees Robin emulate his grim and gritty tendencies to save the day in his absence makes him desperately scream, “Don’t do what I would do!” It’s the universe rubbing what a jerk he’s been in his face. He’s forced to take a look at himself and make a change. B@man’s not made to do that kind of self-reflection until after he’s defeated Sweet Tooth but failed to stop the villain’s bomb. He’s ready to give up on Gotham forever and leave with Rob!n, until his sidekick pulls up Sweet Tooth’s poll and it shows the unanimous result in favor of saving the Boy Wonder. Despite everything they said at the start of Act 2, the people want to help their hero in return for all the times he helped them. All of them calling back to the Raimi Spider-Man reference from Act 1, “You mess with one of us. You mess with all of us.”

Both heroes’ chance at redemption and self-improvement comes from opening themselves up to the people they pushed out and dismissed earlier in their stories. Batman takes on the role he reduced the Commissioner down to at the beginning of the movie and flips on signals for Barbara, Alfred, and Robin to show how he’s truly prepared to work as a team, not just with his friends and family but with the villains of Gotham the Joker pushed aside as well. Teamwork makes the dream work and they’re all able to work together to get Joker’s army back into the Phantom Zone but like in Holy Musical they fail to stop the bomb threatening Gotham. Which he can only prevent from destroying the city by confessing his true feeling to Joker

Batman: If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have learned how connected I am with all of these people and you. So, if you help me save Gotham, you’ll help me save us. Joker: You just said “us?” Batman: Yeah, Batman and the Joker. So, what do you say? Joker: You had me at “shut up!”

The equivalent moment from Holy Musical comes from B@man needing to put aside his pride and encourage a disheartened Superman to save Gotham for him. This happens in the aftermath of a fight the two heroes had where Superman tried to stop B@man before he faced Sweet Tooth, B@man winning out through use of kryptonite. That fight doesn’t fit into any direct parallel with Lego Batman, but it is important context for how Superman’s feeling about B@man before Superman finally gets his long-awaited phone call from the Dark Knight. Also, the song accompanying the fight, “To Be a Man”, is one of the funniest scenes in the play. What this speech from B@man does is bring the idea of Holy Musical B@man as a commentary on fandom full circle:

B@man: I forgot what it means to be a superhero. But we’re really not that different, you and me, at our heart. I mean really all superheroes are pretty much the same… Something bad happened to us once when we were young, so we dedicated our whole lives to doing a little bit of good. That’s why we got into this crazy superhero business. Not to be the most popular, or even the most powerful. Because if that were the case, hell, you’d have the rest of us put out of a job!

This speech extends into an exchange between the heroes about how superheroes are cool, not despite anything superficially silly but because of it. Bringing it back to the “Robin Sucks!” theme that started Act 2, saying “Some people think Robin is stupid. But those people are pretentious douchebags. Because, literally, the only difference between Robin and me is our costumes.” The speech culminates in what I genuinely think is one of the best Batman lines ever written, as B@man’s final plea to Superman is “Where’s that man who’s faster than a gun?” calling back to the trauma that created Batman across all versions and what he can see in someone like Superman. So, B@man sacrificing his pride and fully trusting in another hero saves Gotham, the way Batman letting Joker know what their relationship means to him did in Lego Batman.

Each of these parodies ends by delivering a Batman willing to open himself up to a new team of heroes fighting at his side, the newly minted Bat-Family in Lego Batman and the league for justice known as the Super Friends in Holy Musical. Putting them side by side like this shows how creators don’t need the resources of a Hollywood studio to make something exactly as meaningful and how the best parodies come from love of the material no matter who’s behind them.

If you like what you’ve read here, please like/reblog or share elsewhere online, follow me on Twitter (@WC_WIT), and consider throwing some support my way at either Ko-Fi.com or Patreon.com at the extension “/witswriting”

[zapreportsblog]

Punchline: Gothams Dark Joke

➥ summary : (Y/n) is a young adult who attends Gotham's Snyder College where she becomes infatuated with the Joker. After much searching and hacking into the dark web she finds the personal information on the joker even his home and lair address where she then decides to embark on a journey of affiliating herself with the man.

➥ chapter 1: Snyder College and the Seeds of Infatuation

Part 1: The Introduction

The halls of Gotham's Snyder College were abuzz with anticipation as students embarked on a new academic year. Among them was a young woman named (Y/N), a determined and ambitious individual with a thirst for knowledge. Raised in the vibrant yet treacherous city of Gotham, (Y/N) had always felt a magnetic pull towards the enigmatic and often misunderstood figures that lurked within its shadows. However, little did she know that her life was about to take an unforeseen turn that would test her boundaries and ignite a dangerous fascination with one of Gotham's most notorious characters—the Joker.

•••

As (Y/N) stepped foot onto the picturesque campus of Snyder College, she couldn't help but be captivated by its grandeur. Towering stone buildings, manicured lawns, and a sense of intellectual rigor permeated the atmosphere. Determined to excel academically, (Y/N) threw herself into her studies, immersing herself in a wide range of subjects that appealed to her curious nature.

Amidst the rigors of college life, (Y/N) found herself drawn to the unconventional. She sought out elective courses on abnormal psychology, criminal behavior, and even dabbled in the realms of art and philosophy. It was during one of these classes that (Y/N) first caught a glimpse of the Joker. A renowned villain, the Joker was a figure infamous for his chaotic nature and twisted sense of humor.

From the moment the Joker stepped onto the stage, (Y/N) was entranced by his charismatic presence. His manic energy, coupled with his wickedly sharp wit, left the her in the audience hanging on his every word in the amidst of everyone else’s panic. The Joker's ability to blur the lines between sanity and madness fascinated (Y/N) and ignited a spark of curiosity within her. She couldn't help but wonder what lay beneath the clownish façade—what drove him to commit heinous acts, and why he reveled in chaos.

As the semester progressed, (Y/N) found herself attending every lecture in hopes that the Joker would break into her school once more and interrupt her teachers boring lectures with one of his own. She took copious notes, analyzing his every mannerism and turn of phrase. The more she learned about him, the more she became intrigued by his enigma. It wasn't long before her fascination evolved into an unsettling attraction—an infatuation that both thrilled and frightened her.

Intrigued by the Joker's unorthodox worldview, (Y/N) began to explore his twisted ideology through various mediums. She devoured books and articles, studied the history of crime in Gotham, and even sought out individuals who had encountered the Joker firsthand. The more she delved into his psyche, the more she questioned her own morality and the boundaries of right and wrong.

As (Y/N)'s infatuation with the Joker deepened, she found herself torn between her desire to understand him and the nagging voice of reason within her. Friends and mentors expressed concern about her fascination with such a dangerous individual, urging her to distance herself from the Joker's influence. Yet, (Y/N) couldn't shake off the allure he held over her.

The dangerous allure of the Joker began to seep into every aspect of (Y/N)'s life. She found herself captivated by his unpredictability, his disregard for societal norms, and his ability to challenge the status quo. (Y/N) was walking a dangerous path, balancing on the precipice of obsession.

As (Y/N) grappled with her growing infatuation, she was forced to confront the shadows within herself. She questioned whether her fascination with the Joker stemmed from a genuine desire to understand the human psyche or if it was a reflection of her own hidden darkness. The line between curiosity and complicity began to blur, causing her to question her own moral compass.

By the end of the semester, (Y/N) stood at a crossroads, her heart torn between her fascination with the Joker and the fear of losing herself in his madness. The seeds of infatuation had taken root, but (Y/N) knew that she had to make a choice—to either distance herself from the Joker's influence or continue down a treacherous path that could forever alter the course of her life.

As Chapter 1 draws to a close, (Y/N) stands on the precipice of a dangerous infatuation with the Joker. Her journey through Snyder College has not only expanded her academic horizons but has also led her down a perilous path that challenges her understanding of right and wrong. In the subsequent chapters, we will witness the consequences of her choices and explore the depths of her infatuation with the Joker, as (Y/N) navigates the treacherous waters of obsession, morality, and self-discovery.

[two-threads]

ok, so as a teenager, my first jokers were the 1960s live action series, the Killing Joke comic, Arkham Assylum: A Serious House on Serious Earth, and The Dark Knight Returns by frank miller.

so my ideal joker has basically ended up an existentialist, Discordian, flamboyant queer disaster who doesn’t really kill people indiscriminately and laugh about it, so much as a trickster/fool archetype who is mostly harmless. (mostly. usually.)

he exists to be batman’s foil and his chthonic guide to gotham’s criminal underworld. he’s a funhouse mirror--enough like batman to be a reflection, but flipped and distorted. they’re both trying to fix things, in their own ways. they both want justice. where batman is order and control and secrecy, joker is chaos and freedom and illumination. batman seeks to treat the symptoms (crime, suffering), joker wants to treat the cause (modern society is warped and cruel and absurd and unsustainable).

his motivation is to reveal flaws and absurdities--in individuals and in society--not to solely cause pain and chaos for the sake of it. that said, he’s not above doing shit just because he thinks its funny, but all jokes need to have a punchline, or they aren’t jokes. 

he’s not just going to stab the guy who delivers his pizza and be like, “haha! life is cruel and unpredictable! i’m so funny!” there’s no punchline to causing unnecessary suffering to some random dude just trying to get by. he’s going to make up elaborate schemes dripping in irony to punish people who deserve to be punished, or do harmless shit to get people all riled up, and then make them have to confront the ugly ways they act when threatened.

and, batjokes aside, he would never, ever, ever, EVER want batman dead or incapacitated. their folie à deux/pas de deux is too important to him to EVER risk being without his favorite dance partner.

(sometimes, though, he will absolutely do stupid, impulsive shit for batman’s attention. because lbr, that’s a universal constant at this point.)

anyway, i love the joker and i want to see them do more interesting shit with him beyond kooky scary queer-coded murder clown ✌

[ajokeformur-ray]

Could you do headcanons of J with soft reader? Like someone who's really sweet and compliments him all the time? I'm curious with how he'd react lol. Feel free to ignore this

I hope that you enjoy omggg~ 💜 J deserves so much love and I adore the idea of him being who he is and then melting over his s/o ksksksk.

Also, did I reference 10 Things in this piece? Yes, yes I did.

WC: 1, 145.

There’s the mass murdering, terrorising clown which Gotham knows, and then there’s the clown you know. 

You’re the only one who gets to see the subtle but loud and important difference. 

J keeps you safe and protected; no one knows he has a partner because if they knew, you could be kidnapped.

He keeps you in the dark about who he is and what he does, too - he can’t risk you giving anything away. 

J doesn’t doubt you or your ability to protect him in the ways he’ll allow, but he also doesn’t want to give people a reason to target you if somehow they find out about what you have together.

He protects what’s his, the things which he owns, and you’re included within that, though you’re your own person.

Even so, being with J isn’t easy. He’s gone all hours of the day and night, he disappears for days on end without saying anything, he’s a general grump and it’s almost impossible to discern any kind of pattern to his behaviours. 

J can say one thing and do another in the same moment, but through all of this unpredictability, throughout all of the difficulties in reading him and not fully knowing his mood, for all his ideas, for all the ways he could bring Gotham to its knees with a few pushed buttons, for all the ways he could run the city if he wanted to, for all the ways the world is a bad joke and he’s just another punchline, there’s one thing which J does take seriously.

You.

You are J’s greatest and most urgent priority always.

You’re soft. You’re sweet (though you have a darker edge to you which most people underestimate; therefore giving you an advantage in any given situation) and you always compliment J. 

If there’s a reason you can find to compliment J, you’ll use it to its fullest extent. 

“Your greasepaint looks crispy today, J.” When he finally leaves the bathroom an hour after he went in there.

There’s pools of water everywhere, his soaking wet towel in a messy puddle atop his dirty clothes, and the sink is covered in greasepaint. 

Rivulets of red, white and black all blend and merge together as they drip down into the drain and you despair at the state of your bathroom, but that can wait for when J leaves, as always he does.

 His suit is clean and full of weapons, grenades and the like and his hair is fluffy. You want to run your hands through it. He knows that look in your eye and he groans, a drama queen is he, but he bends at the waist and allows you that luxury. 

So feline is he, too, that his eyes slide closed as he leans into your fingers - he does enjoy the things you do to and for him, don’t let his grumpy persona fool you.

“All right, let me, ah - let me go. I got some busi-ness to attend to.” 

And then he’s gone - but he’ll come back. 

J always comes home to you. It’s an unspoken but mutual promise. He knows you worry, he knows you care, and he shows his appreciation for that by keeping himself as safe as he can even when he’s carrying on as normal - he has a reason to go home, now. 

“You’re so beautiful.” This one always makes J scoff, though he doesn’t say much of anything in return of the compliments you give him. 

He accepts them with his silence, even if he’s disbelieving. 

One of the things which J loves about you is that you tell the truth.

If you feel the urge to tell someone you love them, you do it. 

He never questions your compliments, but the most you’ll get out of him is a grunt.

Sometimes... sometimes you’ll say something which is so brutal in honesty but it’s something which even J hadn’t noticed about himself.

He’s got a sharp eye, an even sharper tongue which can cut like the blades he favours, and a mind which is running in multiple directions all at the same time, but even so... you can floor him sometimes.

“Your eyes have a little green in them.” J grunts in acknowledge and then freezes when he is forced to wonder when he’d let you get so close to him, both physically and in other ways. 

J didn’t even realise that he had green in his eyes and when he’s passing a shop window later, he checks his reflection and sees that you were right.

His mangled lips quirk upwards imperceptibly, the gesture hidden by those scars you know well and love so dearly, and he makes sure to snag you a gift on his way home. 

He’ll even skip a few of his ideas just to get home to you sooner.

That’s how J thanks you for loving him, for being there for him and, above all else, for being you:

He’ll protect you. Defend you. Let you hold him when it’s late at night and you just want him there beside you. 

He’ll wind an arm around you when you’re crying and tug you onto his lap. “Shush, shush, shush. I got’cha, Y/N.” His tone is slightly gruff but his full lips press kisses to your forehead, your temple, with an exaggerated mwah as he pulls away, trying to make you laugh.

J lets you cuddle him, climb into his lap. He’ll wrap his trench around you when you’re crying or when you’re napping and you fell asleep without a blanket. He’ll kiss your forehead before he goes in the mornings, he’ll kiss you so firmly when he comes home that you forget your own name. He’ll laugh when you cry because you love him so much it hurts...

J is there for you, his soft and sweet Y/N, and he loves you - he won’t ever say it, but there’s one constant you can rely on with J, and that’s his actions.

People lie with their words, but with their actions... they don’t.

Gotham knows The Joker. The city knows the name, the reputation, but only you know the man beneath the greasepaint, beneath the mystery and the literal and metaphorical layers.

You’ve been through so much in your life but through it all, you’ve stayed you. Your courage and bravery in loving someone as openly as you do is one thing, but for J to be the one you devote your life to, and so sweetly, knowing who he is and what he does?

J’s overall baffled, but he dares not to question it and though he’s rough and there’s so much about him which doesn’t work in a relationship, he stays with you, he stays, and you stay, too.

For every joker needs an ace up their sleeve.

Destructive raccoon boii(tm)  @jokershyena   @anyatheladyclown   @joker-daddy    @rinbyo    @imightaswellnotexistatall    @vladtoly    @joker-is-my-hero    @liz-rdwitch   @enigmaticandunstable        @ledgerskitten    @tsukiakarinobara    @germansarechill      @ezziesworld    @antonija89   @acw1   @sadjesterautumn      @mermaleizroseglasses   @justawriterinprogress     @truthbehindthemysteries  @hotpacino  @call-me-harley-quinn

[jokerownsmysoul]

the extension of two souls shared around a tiny table

Summary: on a sunny spring morning you’re enjoying each other’s presence, your love is stronger than ever while your daughter is looking for Joker to spend some time with her daddy. You’re just… happy.

Pairings: Joker x Reader + biological daughter Content: soft, fluff

Warnings: nothing?? Only fluffy things

Word count: 4453

If you want, for a better atmosphere I was listening to this song.

A/N, just one thing: I got inspired by a dream I had two nights ago about Joker, I was afraid to write it because usually is Arthur having a family, I’ve never read this prompt with Joker. But still in my dream there was Joker, not Arthur, he came to me without me calling him and I didn’t want to change it by putting Arthur instead. I just wondered what Joker would do if he had a family and that’s what came out. It was a long shot to write it because I know that this fluffy version of Joker may not be supported by everyone but I run the risk, in any case I would understand it because each of us see him in his own way I didn’t know fluffy Joker hit me that much and I want to write a second part and a series dedicated to this family so badlyyyy I loved them and the connection between Joker and his daughter. and it makes me sad that he doesn’t have all of this :( This fic opened my heart in half and filled it with flowers and made them bloom and I hope you will appreciate it too.

Also… What are the chances of me finding this pic which shows two important elements I put in this fic, especially the green teddy bear, after I wrote it? I loved this coincidence and I like to think that this fic was just meant to be

A/N: english is not my first language so I apologize for any typos, I’m still learning.

You were happy. On this day, while you were baking a cake, all you could think about was this.

You three were happy.

It was a sunny morning, all the windows of the apartment were open and its long curtains danced in the wind, creating vortices of fabrics that danced in the living room as if they were guests who had snuck into your home. Sometimes you looked up from the cake batter you were preparing to watch their dance, surprising yourself so enchanted that several times you’d even forgotten that you were baking a cake, that the oven, now hot, was waiting for you to bake it and that there was a physical world beyond the magical one you could see in the dance of these curtains.

There was just something in these curtains that you couldn’t explain. It wasn’t just curtains being moved by the wind, you saw something more poetic in that dance. You saw the beauty of life flowing before your eyes, you saw the freedom that could be found in the simple act of being led by someone, by something, like these curtains that were guided by the sunny air of a spring day.

Spring rarely visited this city. The days were often dark, the sun didn’t explode in all its light but it was always faded and covered by a blurry patina, the sky was continuously dyed gray and full of clouds even during the summer.

But the rare times when the sun took space between the clouds and its light exploded, it did so in such a way that no one could ignore its presence, it did in all its luminous power. The sunny spring days in Gotham were rare, but when they arose, they were breathtaking. Sometimes you thought that during these long dark periods the sun preserved its energies to use them all at once in one single day by coloring everything yellow. It wanted to be heard, it wanted to tell you that the sun existed and that it wasn’t gone.

These curtains dancing in the air showed all the beauty hidden in the world that not everyone could see, an entity hidden in everything around you, the natural reminder of the fact that in life not everything is lost and there is always hope for forgiveness.

These curtains were telling you that life was in all things animated and inanimate, it hid on the surface and you had to know how to see it. You saw the beauty of life looking at your freshly washed white silk curtains which smelled clean, dragged by the scented spring air which flooded the apartment with an electric floral smell, and if you had closed your eyes you could have seen a garden full of multicoloured flowers right inside your eyelids.

Joker was sitting on the table next to one of the living room windows and the wind coming in through the window made his strands of green hair dance here and there. The dance maded by these green hair moving in such a way reminded you of the same dance of fresh freshly cut grass which performs following the steps of the wind on spring days like this. Occasionally you looked at him and you were aware that his beauty confused you and distracted you much more than the curtains, no matter how beautiful they might be. Joker was your best distraction. He was looking at his book of jokes, the cigarette he was smoking and the pen took turns in his hand following a precise rhythm, he had a frustrated expression on his face which had appeared after the umpteenth time he had cancelled the punchline of a joke.

“Hard work day, love?” You asked as you watched the curtains dancing behind him, noticing his forehead creased and frowny eyebrows. Joker kept his gaze fixed on the book twirling a strand of hair around the fingers of his hand with which he wasn’t writing and playing with it thoughtfully. “I just can’t finish this joke, it’s harder than I thought.” You nodded by acknowledging the weariness in his face, smiling at yourself for the commitment he still put into his vocation despite everything had happened to him. You’d always admired how much perseverance, how much precision he put on his jokes. Joker was a meticulous man, and you were sorry that no one could see how dedicated he was to all the things he loved. In his jokes, in his job, in his family.

You and your little girl were his first priority. His breath and his whole existence were completely given to the two most important people in his life, you two, and every day he showed it to you with his permanent presence. “Is there anything I can do for you?” Joker looked up to you and met you. Your messy hair, your apron and flour stained face, your understanding look. He could read in your eyes the serenity of this moment and despite he was frustrated by the joke he couldn’t unravel he felt the same serenity as you did on this sunny morning, while the vanilla smell of the cake and the roaring laughter of your little girl from the bedroom filled the apartment. “Would you help me?”

A giggle slipped out of your lips as you wiped your hands on your apron. “Of course I would, you silly.” Joker smiled and put the pen on the table to hold the book with both hands while reciting the joke, but before he could even finish the sentence you were both interrupted by your little girl who had swooped into the living room trotting joyfully. “Who’s ready for cake?” she mumbled with a high-pitched voice and hopping for the too much enthusiasm which wouldn’t let her stand still, not even for a second.

“We’re all ready, aren’t we, mummy?“ he teased you by looking at you with a playful expression and his face wrapped in a smirk. You answered by turning to your little girl ignoring his playful look, but smiling at yourself and making sure Joker would have noticed it. “Of course we’re honey, but the cake isn’t ready yet.” Your little girl frowned for a few minutes enough to decide if this answer would suit her or not. She frowned in the same way as Joker did and a smile spontaneously appeared on your face. After a few minutes his thoughtful expression vanished, her forehead stretched out and she returned to have her face lit with happiness. “It’s fine. Wanna keep playing!”

He trotted to Joker, grabbing a flap of his sleeve in her tiny hand and waving it impatiently. “Daddy wanna play with me?” Joker smiled, stroked her back gently and before he could answer you turned to her. “Maybe later honey, dad is busy right now. I can play with you after I bake the cake in a few minutes.” Your little girl pouted and moved her head frenetically from both sides. “No, I want daddy!” She gave Joker a sulky, sad look waiting for an answer from him, hoping that he wouldn’t say the same thing by supporting your words and that he didn’t really have to work. Joker took one of the strands of her long brown hair held in two pigtails on both sides of her head and twisted it around the index finger, just as he was doing a little earlier with his own green hair in an enchanted expression.

“It’s okay, Y/N.” He said looking at you with a sympathetic gaze, then he turned to your little girl, an accomplice smile had framed his face as soon as their eyes met. “I would love to play with you, sweetie pie.” He laid the book on the table that he still held in his other hand while your little girl was jumping for happiness around him. “Yay! Yayy! I play with dad!” Shortly after she held his hand, it was so small compared to Joker’s big, strong one that it was completely hidden by his palm when he put his hand around her soft, plump one.

No matter how busy he was, he would never deny her to play together.

She suddenly became impatient to play with him and wanted to go straight to the bedroom where were kept all her toys. “Come on, let’s go!” With her short arm she pulled Joker’s one holding it by her hand and he let himself be dragged without resistance, but before they could disappear from your sight Joker looked at you amused shrugging, you smiled eloquently moving your head from side to side. “Look at these two…” You murmured to yourself smiling as you went back to handling the cake, knowing perfectly well that you could never sneak into them.

Joker had a special connection with your little girl that you never could build with her. She loved you both equally, but your little thing had a special bond with Joker and it was impossible not notice how much she doted on him. There was something when they were holding hands, when they were looking at each other and talking to each other that was impossible to explain in words. An accomplice born by itself without either of them went to look for it or tried to build, it existed by itself as an entity to which neither of them had ever managed to resist. You never had such a bond with her and you didn’t even try to have it, because the smile she had every time she stood beside him, which reminded so much his, and the loving look Joker had every time he looked at her, filled your heart with happiness and you were just grateful to be able to witness in the front row this particular bond that only the two of them had.

She was still dragging Joker to the bedroom where all his toys were kept in a large bench, a playful smile dressed Joker’s face while your little girl was more and more impatient and happy to play with him and only with a lot of self-control managed to stop jumping.

She stopped at the corner of the room, right next to the makeup dressing table that once belonged to Penny, where there was a small white metal children’s table set with a pink tablecloth hand embroidered by yourself some time ago and surrounded by four chairs.

“Would you like some tea daddy?” She looked at the tiny table on which a tea service was laid, then looked at Joker, another time at the small table and shortly afterwards looked once again at Joker with a hopeful expression and crossed her fingers in front of her face hoping that he would say yes, sure that he couldn’t notice her fingers crossed; Joker let a laugh slip from his lips at the sight of such naivety. “Of course I’d like to, sweetie pie!” A toothless smile lay on her lips and pointed out the empty chairs. “Where would you like to sit?”

Her attitude had completely changed; she had straightened her back, raised her chin upwards, the movements were more accurate and quiet; even the tone of her voice was no longer ringing as it had been until now but was calm and contained, while she was pretending to be a waitress who had to serve an important client who deserved only the best of the best; she had to fulfill his every wish, spoil him and treat him well. “Why don’t you choose for me? Where would you like me to sit?” She moved her head from both sides, moving her ponytails back and forth, making them bang on her squishy cheeks. “No, dad! The rule is you’re the guest, you have to choose!”

She laugh teasing him because he didn’t know the rules of the game and Joker smiled as he staring the chairs for a few seconds simulating an undecided expression. On a chair there was the green teddy bear gotten during one evening of the last summer, when you had gone to the amusement park. Joker had won at a points game and let her decide which teddy bear to take, she had chosen this teddy bear only because it had the same green color as her dad’s hair; right in the front chair was sitting the doll you gave her to cheer her up when months ago she had a flu which lasted more than a week and just didn’t want to leave and the other two chairs were empty. “I think I’m gonna sit next to Clowny”.

“Clowny! I was hoping you’d sit there because he’s green like you.” Joker giggled knowing and sat down right in the chair closest to the teddy bear; the chairs were for children and very small, and although Joker was a very skinny man he had to bend slightly to be comfortable. Your little girl giggled when she saw him sitting in this funny way, sat down in the last empty chair, took two cups from the tea service and put them in front of both; immediately afterwards she took the teapot and pretended to pour invisible tea into both cups with the same devotion and commitment as Joker did every time he devoted himself to his jokes. She put the tip of his tongue out of his mouth enough to lick his upper lip, a gesture she often made when she was getting involved in something that required her full attention, she had inherited it from you. As he watched her committed to pouring their tea, her tongue coming out as you did and frowning as Joker did, he smiled, seeing you both within her.

The love he felt for this little thing was the strongest feeling he had and would have felt in his whole life. She was literally the real proof that he had truly found the love and happiness he had longed for his whole life, that it had not been a daydream to meet you, that the nights you had made love, with your bodies lighting each other as if one were reflecting the light of the other, just like the sun does with the moon, really had existed, just as had existed the walks while you were holding hands, the first kisses you gave him by taking him by surprise and making him blush, every time you looked for his touch and didn’t think it was possible, and just like every single moment he lived with you which he held in his heart since he met you.

Every happy memory of him involved you, and this was a life for which he believed in the past not to be worthy of living, a life in which he was destined not to be loved. It was hard for him to accept your presence in his life during the first few months of your relationship because he was afraid that you might vanish at any moment. Let alone if he ever thought that in his life he would love another person as much as he loved you, and that you would both love him in the same deep, visceral, boundless way.

When your little girl poured tea into both of their cups she put the teapot gently in its place so as not to spoil it. She treated it with care as a precious gift, and indeed it was so. You couldn’t afford this tea service, but despite that, Joker was determined to give it to her. He saw it in a storefront across the street a few months before and it made him think of her; it was composed of four cups, each with its own saucer and teaspoon, a teapot and a sugar bowl. The tea service was completely white and covered with small blue flowers of various sizes, just the ones she liked in her favorite blue color. All the teaspoons have blue coloured extremities, on the teapot and the sugar bowl were represented two flowers of larger dimensions than the small flowers on the cups, on the saucers and on the edges there were blue and golden stripes running along the circumference of them.

He’d done everything he could to give it to her at Christmas, he’d saved up money for months and months making a lot of sacrifices, he had quitten smoking to save cigarette money and still every day he made small additional renunciations because he wanted to save as much money as possible and give her the gift he wished to be able to give her so much. The jump for joy she had made after unwrapping the gift were priceless and Joker was so happy to see her happy that you would have sworn that night you had seen his eyes wet with tears which he had held within him with all his strength; tears of joy and love.

“Daddy, you drink tea with sugar.” She asked though it was more a observation than a question, since remembering very well that he liked the sweetened tea she had already grabbed the teaspoon with her little tiny hand. “That’s true little thing, I like sweet tea and I’d like to some sugar.�� Joker sat composed and let himself be served, your little girl smiled satisfied and took the sugar bowl of the same tea service, “how much?” She looked him in the eyes curious and impatient of an answer, biting her lip nervously, as if even putting sugar in his tea was an action to be performed perfectly, Joker didn’t let her wait any longer.

“Two teaspoons, thank you!” She glowed and proudly pretended to put two teaspoons of sugar in the cup, immediately after she put the same amount of sugar in her own and sitting more comfortably on the chair she took the cup with her left hand and raised her little finger like a upper-class woman, Joker imitated her and both drank a sip of tea looking into each other’s eyes. Your little girl had bright eyes of a heated happiness, the same green color of Joker’s eyes had extended in hers and Joker, looking into her eyes so much like his, could see himself inside her.

She was the most beautiful part of him. Thanks to her Joker was learning to love himself because into her he read all the beautiful things he had taught her, she was the confirmation that inside of him something good had always been and kept being there even after having made himself called Joker. Sometimes the weight his name carried frightened him but this fear instead of blocking him made him love her even more, to take care of her like no one had ever done with him. In the past his fear would have stopped him, but your little girl gave him the courage to turn over a new leaf and move on, look forward to a future that would only be of love and warmth.

She was the most beautiful part of him and she was the only one through whom he could see himself and recognize that he existed within her but also on his own. Your little girl taught him to love himself in the most spontaneous, light and carefree way he’ve ever felt.

“This tea is delicious, my sweetie pie. You are the best cook.” Your little girl made a joyfull jump on the chair, making it move slightly. “What about mummy?” A toothless smile framed her face as Joker leaned slightly forward. “Mummy doesn’t cook as well as you, but don’t tell her.” He whispered to her and your little girl curled her nose in a knowing and happy smiling face, rose hastily from the chair and approached him putting her little hand on the back of his own. “Our little secret!” She murmured in his ear, imitating him by talking with a whisper of a voice. Joker smiled and popped a kiss on her cheek and while he was wrapping her little body around his right arm she swooped on him and hugged him putting her arms around his neck. Her face buried in his green hair tickled him, Joker squeezed her hard but gently enjoying the hug with his little thing who was the extension of his soul and who at this time smelled of raspberries and talcum powder.

“Daddy?” She babbled with her face still buried in his hair, feeling safe between the arms and the scent of her daddy, tightening his neck with such energy that she let him believe she would hardly melt from this embrace if not for a valid reason. “Yes, sweetie pie?” She moved away from him slightly enough to look him in the eye, but her body was still in the Joker’s arms.

“I love you very much dad” she caressed softly his green strands which rabbed his cheeks, “and also your green hair”. Joker had a watery look because, once again, the evidence of love your little girl gave him every day allowed him to see himself in a different light. A warmer and brighter light.

She loved him so much and therefore everything was not lost, there was still hope for him and he had not lived for nothing, for the very reason that he had managed to love and to be loved in his life, and the best part of him would have kept to exist through her memories and, perhaps, people would have forgiven him. Despite the emotional and grateful expression he tried to muffle, he giggled. Not a single day had passed in which your little girl did not tell him that she loved his green hair, actually several times she also asked you both the permission to dyed her own because “I want to be like dad”.

“I love you too. Very, very much.” Joker approached his face to give her an eskimo kiss and she chuckled. “You’re tickling me!” Then they giggled together and shortly after her face suddenly became clouded while a thought was taking place on her mind without warning. “Dad! We have no cookies for tea.” A worried expression replaced the funny one of just before, she had worked so hard to give him everything that she had forgotten one of the most essential things, tea cookies. Joker rubbed her back tightly with the hand with which he was still holding her to calm her down. “It’s okay, little thin-” she interrupted him, talking shortly after.

“It’s not okay, I want to get it right.” Joker comforted her further, smiling at himself in recognizing his own words in hers, to make her understand that everything was perfect as it was; shortly after the worry disappeared from her face so suddenly that Joker wondered if there had ever been. She smiled showing all his teeth in a toothless smile and jumped proudly. “I got an idea!” She ran out of the room full of adrenaline with the surprised look of Joker staring at her and shortly afterwards returned with a couple of candies in her hands and approaching Joker put them in his.

“We can eat these instead of cookies” she said, proud of the brilliant idea that had came to her. “Perfect, I love candies.” Joker unwrapped one candy for her and laid it in front of her face. “Open your mouth!” Your little girl waved her hands joyfully and opening her mouth grabbed the candy with her teeth, shortly after he unwrapped the other one and ate it too. As she chewed, she approached her little index finger on his face and traced the colored lines of make-up Joker had painted on his face the day before and which, somehow, still were visible even if a little bit faded and smudged. She began to speak with her mouth full, her look was clever and special understanding while she was tracing also the blue triangles.

“Can you paint me like that, later?” An amused smirk landed on Joker’s lips, he should have imagined this question from the way she had weighed her look on his make up while she was tracing it with her tiny index finger. Your little girl liked to paint and most of all loved it when Joker painted her face in his own way, and every time she asked him in such a pleading tone that it was impossible to say no, even for Joker. Actually, even though Joker had never said it out loud, every time they painted Joker’s make-up to one another, he probably had more fun than her.

“Of course, but first we have to eat and do our homework, little thing.” She nodded in an understanding expression as a good compromise and hugged him again tightly, it was her way of thanking him when she couldn’t do it with words. Then she surprised him laying her hand on his head and caressing his green hair in a comforting way, Joker smiled at the simplicity of this gesture. Your little girl reassured him all the time without even knowing it, she just did it because she felt it, she felt him. 

You came into the room shortly after, they were still wrapped in this hug and a smile spontaneously created itself on your face; you laid your shoulder on the door and stared at them for a few seconds before interrupting their game and, above all, their hug. “Hey you two, cake is ready”, you said a few minutes later, your little girl pulled away from the hug and moved her arm energetically towards you. “Mummy, come here! Hug! I wanna a big hug!” She didn’t have to tell you twice because you approached them literally a second later with your arms already opened.

All three of you were hugging, interconnected so strongly, tightly, that it would have been impossible to untie you three. The cake had just been baked and had flooded all the rooms with its aroma, the sun was still radiating his light into the apartment. Joker was wrapped in your warmth and buried between your bodies, which were equally buried in the same way, a tear had fallen down his face like a secret he could no longer hide, drawing a blue painted tear along his left cheek.

He had never thought that after all the hatred and carelessness he had felt on his skin, after all the evil and sins he had committed, he could live an ethereal thing like having a family, an apartment to share with two souls who completed himself and full of love, an apartment which at that time smelled of cake, vanilla and… home.

[soulsdontbreaktheybeeend]

Night shift Part 3.2 | Joker x Reader

Quick summary Night shift in general: You’re working late, enjoying the almost peaceful night in Gotham. Well.. almost peaceful. Little did you know it’s also the night of Jokers escape of Arkham Asylum.

This was harder to write than I thought. I had it all worked out in my head, but damn did I have trouble to write it. I don’t even know why. Now I had the feeling I just have to get it out there because I couldn’t do any better and it’s been so long since I uploaded the last part.

Night shift Part 1, Part 2, Part 3.1

Words: 2,555

picture credit

The sound of the news on television echoed through the living room. Yet there was a haunting silence floating in the room, filling it like a dense fog.

 “Hey, um… can I take one of these?” Your index finger pointed to a pack of cigarettes, set at the small table in front of the couch.

“Sure.” Your friend answered, not even looking at you, still in shock.

 You had quit to smoke for almost one year at that point. Your life and the society surrounding it, burned you out to your bones everyday at anew. Often nicotine had been one of the few things that happened to ease your mind and help you relax for a while. It still felt somewhat unreal, like a wonder, to you that you had actually managed to quit one day. But wonders don’t exist, do they?

 With shaking hands, you opened the small pack of cigarettes and grasped for the lighter right next to it. With one of the cigarettes placed between your teeth, you walked over to the coatrack. You slipped on your black coat and made your way over to the little balcony. You saw your friend walking towards the kitchen. Both of you needed a moment, you guessed.

Stepping out into the cool fresh air of this illusive night in Gotham, you closed the door behind you. It was another cold and freezing night in Gotham City. You put up the collar of your coat to shield your neck, before you lit that cigarette you’ve been craving for so long. The want to leave Gotham for good, that car crash; what you had witnessed on tv really was the last straw that breaks the camel’s back. You expected yourself to cough in the moment you sucked in the cool air mixed with the smoke of fresh burned tobacco. You didn’t. All you felt was this deep relaxation you remembered, for you experienced it so often after a hard and exhausting day. You closed your eyes, blowing out some smoke and tried to shut out every incident that had happened today.

When everything wasn’t black, but oh so colourful on the back of your eyelids, your eyes shot open. You tsk’d at yourself as you rolled your eyes and shook your head, realizing the fact that all your mind was able to fabricate was his painted clown face. Not his face while he was at live television, but the face you had come to meet earlier that day. That face that had been inches away from your own. Your fingers made their way up to lightly caress your upper lip. You could have sworn you could still feel his hot breath against your skin there. His eyes had fixated yours in such a piercing gaze. His eyes. Never would you be able to forget the look in his eyes.

You took another drag of your cigarette, feeling the cool smoke fill your lungs in satisfaction. 

“Ugh, whatever.” You sighed, talking to yourself and decided not to fight your own mind. You closed your eyes one more time.

The image in front of your closed eyes was repeating itself on a loop.

It’s been a rough few weeks…

The man named Joker revealed to the live TV host in an amusing looking way, a few people in the crowd giggled. The corner of you mouth didn’t even flinch upwards. The fact that you had actually seen tears filling his eyes, as the words left his painted fake smile, built up an uneasiness in your guts. Already there in that moment it had you wondering what trauma caused him to feel that way.

  … ever since I killed those three wallstreet guys.

Unlike Murray, you weren’t waiting for the punchline.

He wasn’t telling a joke. He was telling the truth and you knew it from the second you saw his eyes fill with that translucent salty liquid.

  A few manly growls ripped you out of your flashback. The wind caressed the skin on your cheeks in an unpleasant manner. You opened your eyes, stepped a bit forward to look down at the street. There were men, women and teenagers walking in small groups. They were carrying baseball bats and pyrotechnics. Most of their faces covered either in a balaclava, some cloth or a clown mask matching the hair color and painted face of “Joker”. The groups were gathering and walking in the same direction.

 You felt your hands start to almost hurt and get numb from the freezing air. Your right hand came up to your mouth, taking another deep drag from your cigarette. As your left hand made its way to slip into your coat pocket, intending to warm it up there a bit, your gaze still lingered on the crowds that kept coming around the corner. You felt something damp and silky against the back of your hand in the pocket. Then it hit you.

 His page!

 It hit you hard. A flashback immediately rushed through your head again as you felt the familiar touch of the paper. “Arthur!” The voices of the two cops still lingered in your ears. Arthur writhing on the cold concrete, lifting his head to take a look at whom had met him with such kindness he didn’t know even existed. He didn’t introduce himself to you as Arthur nor as Joker, but the cops shouting his name engraved itself in your head.

 You let the small piece of paper slide through your index finger and thumb. Caressing it ever so slowly. A sudden noise almost made you jump, as you looked behind you in fright. You weren’t really a person that got easily startled, which was another sign for how intensely this day had marked your soul.

 It was the balcony door cracking open that ripped you out of your focus on the clown face in your head and the people screaming on the street. The blue triangles and his piercing eyes slowly faded away, the shouting and applauding growing quieter in your ears. By squinting your eyes, you brought yourself back to here and now.

 Your friend stepped out to you on the balcony, closing the door behind her quietly.

“I thought you actually quit smoking?” You could hear them chuckle. They held a glass out to you, “Here…Thought you might like one, too.”

“You think too much.” You joked back, extra stressing the word ‘think’, as you took the glass of booze gratefully in your cold hand, symbolizing a cheers gesture, then sipping at it.

“You don’t say? Give me back my lighter instead of making bad jokes.” Your friend held up one hand.

 You heard the masked and aimed groups of dark dressed people growl even louder. Parallelly you heard the sound of glass being crushed and the scent of gasoline in the air hit your nostrils. Applause and screams filled your ears.

 Could it be?

 Your body went to autopilot, moving completely by itself and driven by a feeling inside you, you couldn’t even describe.

“I gotta be somewhere, I’m sorry.” The moment you shoved your emptied glass back into your friends’ hand, you didn’t mean to be rude. On the contrary, you were grateful. So grateful to have someone in your life you could run to, escape to in every situation you found yourself in, too much to handle on your own. But right then and there your mind went blank and yet it so clear. It was full. Full of him. Your heart did beat fast and the image in your head changing back and forth, flickering, between a painted face and a red suit.

  As soon as you left the building, you were taking a part in the riots. People around you, dragging you right into the direction where the smoke in the night sky of Gotham seemed heaviest.

Men smashing car windows in with their baseball bats and lighting up pyrotechnics. Several shops were robbed, you saw people running around with packages of products in their arms, celebrating their new acquisition. The situation of Gotham resembling a boiling sea out of injustice of the forgotten for so long. People protesting, the gap between the rich and poor growing wider apart day by day. All they needed to start a riot, to make the final step, was a Joker. The final spark to build up a blazing hellfire without an ember in sight. He now was the kind of clown that had started a movement. Even if it hadn’t been his intention, was he the one who had spoken from the heart of so many Gotham citizens. “…don’t werewolf and go wild!” Oh- but they were now.

  The rich on the other hand, you could easily detect them, tried their best to bring themselves to safety, fleeing. Fleeing from signs hunting them. Kill the rich. The one that had been written most often on big and small posters in the hands of all kinds of different people. All sharing a familiar heavy, dark shadow on their chests, just as the clown they watched on television.

Back on the balcony you thought the smell of gasoline was intensive. On the streets it became almost unbearable without shielding your mouth and nose with some fabric. Nevertheless, you kept your hands in the pockets of your coat, the page of his journal firm in your grip. The crowd pulled you in its suction, guiding you right to the fullest gathered spot in the middle of a crossing on the street.

“UP, UP, UP…” You heard people scream again and again. Your body grew tense as you already could almost feel his presence, without even knowing he would be there, for you could not see that much through the crowd because of your height. In fact, you didn’t see a damn thing, but the backs of many people’s heads.

Is that a fucking chair??

It was. They guy right next to you carried a freaking chair, tossing it up into the sky as he yelled with the others. At least that caused other people around him to give the guy a little bit of space around him and his chair, so they wouldn’t get hit by it. Good for you. Finally, you could take glimpse through the crowd, to the person they all yelled at, hailed at. You had hoped it would be him, who else would it be? Still your body stiffened at the sight of him, standing on a destroyed police car. The loud screams and sounds of destruction suddenly seemed to grow quieter around you. He had his back turned to you. His arms angled up to his face until he stretched them away from his body as far as possible. He looked so majestic in this moment, even if you only were able to see his back. It wasn’t something that could hold back your heartbeat from increasing and it didn’t get any better the moment he finally turned around so you could take him in, in full sight. You felt your ears go deaf, fading out all noise of the riots. Your hands shook in your pockets. He was presenting himself to his followers, looking through the crowd. Never taking your eyes off of him, you felt your eyes were about to tear up. A flashback running through your head. You had seen the sadness in his eyes when he was still live on television. You’d seen it there all along. But nothing compared to the look on his face in this very moment on that police car. He cried. He cried, for anybody to see now. The paint of his red, fake smile was now replaced by an even wider smile, smeared with his own blood. It was still red, yet a bit darker, but was it still fake? You couldn’t tell. You could see tears running down his cheeks, but oh did they look proud.

 I pass you everyday and you don’t notice me!

You understood. He was seen now. Seen by so many people and they even hailed to him. You could feel tears of your own run down your cheeks. It took you by surprise as you felt his eyes look with yours, holding the gaze, strongly. His intense eyes bore into yours, as your mouth fell agape. It was getting harder to breath, the longer the two of you shared this moment. Hundreds of people going on the rampage, screaming, destroying cars, setting trash cans on fire. Yet the two of you stood there in the middle of it, completely still. Neither of you moved, at least nothing more than both of your chests heaving up and down heavily. You hadn’t known the slightest thing about this man in the red suit, but you just couldn’t deny there was something about him. Something that pulled you to him, like an invisible string he pulled on to bring you closer to him. In fact, he didn’t. He didn’t bring you closer to him. He brought himself closer to you.

He made his way down the police car, never breaking his gaze on your eyes. His followers around him, still screaming and now touching his shoulders, tapping at them as a sign of ‘you did good’, everybody wanted to get a piece of their new leader. You felt like you were about to take root. Your body was far from being able to move, as he came closer and closer.

  “I remember that face.” You heard his raspy voice say as he stopped in front of you.

The slightest beginning of a smile crept on your lips, as you answered him, not knowing where your confidence was coming from all of a sudden.

“Me too. A bit bloodier now.” Joker let out a high-pitched chuckle that caused his watery eyes to let run down another tear.

You swallowed hard and found your voice again. “Here, you lost something.” From your coat pocket you pulled out the piece of paper and held it up for him to see. You took a quick glimpse at it, before his eyes found yours again.

“Thank you, but you can keep it.” He chuckled again, tilting his head a little.

“I don’t need it anymore.” At his words you noticed his deep sadness again, as if he just had remembered what he had done earlier that night. You wanted to rip him out of his thoughts, as you couldn’t think of anything better than to introduce yourself right in this moment.

“I’m y/n.” You pulled out your hand from your pocket to hold it out to him. You didn’t think this through. When his hand touch yours ever so gently, an oh my god ran through your mind, as you clearly weren’t ready for this.

“Joker.” He brought your hand up to his mouth, placing a soft kiss on the back of your hand. You caught your breath as the mix of the now cold blood and his hot lips, touched the sensitive skin there.

“Sorry about that.” Joker chuckled once more, as he noticed his blood smeared of the back of your hand. You were fascinated, completely under a spell by his complex character. As a succession your following words were,

  “You need a place to hide, Joker?”

 The night shift clowns: @jaylovesbats @arthurscarnival @illusionsinmyhead @nepturn

Also tagging you guys, bc you enjoyed the last part and I wanted to let you know there’s a new one now. I hope you don’t mind, love you guys♥ @pcrushinnerd @jokerismyhubbie @ch4nn3lorange  @daydreamhustler ​ @carnivalou  

[thereelbradbell]

Joker War

Written by: James Tynion IV

Art by: Jorge Jimenez

Publish by DC Comics

(September to December 2020)

Every new Batman writer must have their turn on the most sadistic villain in the history of comic books: The Joker. I imagine that the opportunity to write the Joker is just as enticing to anyone writing a bat book, as writing the caped crusader himself. Scott Snyder Had Death of the Family, Tom King had The War of Jokers and Riddles, and now James Tynion brings us his Joker War.

One of the problems with writing the Joker post Alan Moore’s Killing Joke is that writers feel that they have to constantly up the ante when using the character. The evil plans, and smile seem to get bigger with each passing Joker appearance. In Joker War Tynion aided by the sharp and angular art of Jorge Jimenez bring us the most grandiose and complicated Joker scheme yet, and the evilest version of the character I have read post Killing Joke.

Joker with the help of comic’s latest crush: Punchline have stolen the Wayne fortune, and turned over the city to the clown criminals of Gotham. This feels like a riff on City of Bane, which felt like a riff on Christopher Nolan’s The Dark Knight Rises. The only differentiator being the chaos and anarchy Joker brings to the table in way even Bane could not.

The personal stakes of this story are what elevate it. The Joker knows Batman is Bruce Wayne which adds an entirely different level to the torment. We also get one of the better teams ups we have seen in a DC book recently, as Harley Quinn will stop at nothing to kill Mr. J, even fight alongside the bat family.

Overall the personal stakes of the story do match the ante in way that will make this one of the best Joker stories, even if it is one of the more fun and shocking to read.

*Ratingl: 3.5 out of 5