toothybat - Tumblr blog

[toothybat]

🚨 artist looking for help🚨

last year I was hit with an eviction after losing my job to disability, only to lose housing again to a house fire back in February

to say the least I am not doing very well, and need help staying where I currently am as I regain lost documentation and look for better employment

anything helps, I am at the end of my rope

[toothybat]

I love the expression on Joker’s face he’s so sweet

[toothybat]

I like how this implies that Batpony’s cutie mark either changed when he became the Pony Who Laughs, or it was always Joker’s smile <3

Also, LOVE the choice for Joker’s mark T_T

🤨

[toothybat]

Silly Joker, your hands are WET and you climb a ladder one-handed? He need a hands-free phone fr heheh

Batman : I'm here. [chapter 1] : part 1

[toothybat]

rip my chest open and squeeze my heart why dontcha

Was anyone going to tell me about alternate dimension lobotimized Joker, or was I just supposed to find that well of opportunity out by watching the episode A better world in Justice League?? Like my dudes, this is amazing batjokes real estate here. *slams Joker like the hood of the batmobile* The potential alone. The angst. Superman lobotomizing Joker to put a stop to him finally as he has done to numerous others. Batman thought that he was ready for this. That it had to be done. The voice in his head says that this should be everything he's ever dreamt of. The Joker stopped. He's not dead, either.

Surely. Surely this is what he's always hoped for.

But it isn't.

And it's far too late to return to how things were. All of the rogues gallery are lobotomized. They're calmer, and they don't cause any trouble. One can even say that Arkham is a home to them now. It's certainly nicer without all of the screaming and the mad cackling.

At first, he comes to visit him. The few doctors there treat this as his curiosity, but Batman is sceptical that the treatment worked. Surely, the Joker’s mind is unlike any other. A part of him he doesn't dare call hope wants the Joker to be faking his mellowed behaviour, his eerie calmness. He doesn't laugh, but he does smile when he sees Batman. And there's such a tragic layer behind the looks he gives him. No. It's tragic because the Joker has been stripped of the ability to hide. What Batman sees when the Joker looks at him now is the most raw display of love the clown has ever donned. When you strip away the guns and the knives and the acid and the gas, the purple suits and the maddening laughter - this is what's left: his deepest, sincerest form of love out for Batman to see. To judge. And he can't even hide behind a joke.

Even lobotimized, even after Superman destroyed the Joker - he couldn't destroy this.

Batman sees the Joker move gently, shyly to cup his hand in his. Over the glove. Batman’s breath hitches. He braces for impact, for when the Joker will take a knife out from his sleeve or a razor edged Joker card to slice at him with.

But it doesn't come. How could it? Those two lobotomy marks on his forehead, from where Superman's laser vision did its work, they glare.

"Batman," his smile doesn't reach his eyes, it doesn't even stretch wide enough for teeth to show. But what teeth are left to show? Have they not defanged the Joker?

Quiet and obedient are two things that don't suit the Joker. And Batman feels bile rising in his mouth. He feels anger at himself for letting this happen. But if Superman could kill Lex Luthor, surely this compromise is something Batman can accept.

"Joker, how do you feel?"

He blinks. Trying to think. "Half a brain lighter," he says and shrugs.

Batman dares to hope. But the laughter doesn't come. The Joker doesn't even wink. He yawns, exhausted, or too medicated. They're pumping him with more drugs than is necessary still. Precautions.

Batman grasps hold of the Joker by his wrist. Tighter than he intends. No flash of panic or excitement or even anger flashes across the Joker’s face. Nothing that can let Batman know there's anyone under that hollow mask, that face.

He's killed the man under the acid bleached skin and left something neither here nor there. Is this what might happen to him if the man under the cowl is to die?

"What do you like to do?" Batman asks him, controlling the way his voice sounds. Everyone is listening. Everyone is watching.

"I don't know. No jokes, though. They say I can't tell jokes anymore. But, um, well," he looks sheepish in this light, and normally Batman would say it's a ploy. But now he knows it isn't. So the honesty in the Joker’s expressions is worse than anything he's ever seen. "I don't really remember if I ever liked to do that. Did I ever make you laugh?" It's with childlike wonder that he looks at him now, inching closer than is allowed, but Batman can't find it in himself to push him away or to raise his voice at him. To remove him from himself and send him off to therapy or to his cell. His room. Wherever.

He won't be able to look at Superman again without seeing this.

"Yes." The admission comes at a cost.

The Joker’s eyes crinkle with happiness. "That's good." He grasps hold of his gloves hand and squeezes it. Not to hurt him. Just to feel him. Batman will never be able to return to Arkham. He will never be able to see this man again.

But it's too late anyway. The man he wants to see was ripped through those two marks on his forehead.

"Thank you." The Joker says. He's clasping both hands over his and smiling up at him. This is not the Joker you know, this will never be the Joker you knew. Nor will it ever be the one you wanted to know, the one who willingly went through rehabilitation.

But. But. The voice in your head goes on, louder, quicker: this needed to be done. How many people would need to die at his hand for you to realise this? Be happy Superman took this difficult task from your hands. You didn't kill. You still haven't killed.

The Joker mumbles something.

"What?" Batman barks, his voice flooded with wretched pain he hopes comes across as anger.

It doesn't. Even lobotomized, the Joker can tell: "Hush now," he comforts, patting his hands and humming, "you don't have to explain anything to me. You don't owe me anything, o Justice Lord."

The bile in Batman’s mouth is worse than any acid the Joker might have thrown at him. There is not a hint of irony in the Joker’s voice.

He rips his hands away from the Joker and stands. He isn't shaking only because he is a master of control, and he knows everyone is watching. Everyone is always watching.

It's heartbreak, pure and simple. "You aren't coming back, are you?"

"What's there to come back to?" Batman asks, hollow in his heart, looking at a hollow man. A shell of someone he doesn't want to think about. Because if he does think about him, he'll wonder if this really needed to be done. And he can't have such thoughts. Not when everyone is watching.

The Joker nods his head. He doesn't have the capacity for anything else. "That's all right."

Where is the fanfare? The fireworks? The theatrics?

Batman cannot recognise the man in front of him. So he turns around, cape billowing behind him. He cannot look back. But unlike what was promised to Orpheus, even though Batman doesn't turn around, the Joker never returns by his side.

Diana stands next to him. She puts a hand to his shoulder to ask him something, but he slams it away and growls: "I don't need anything from you."

Her eyes harden to steel and he knows that he said too much.

So he amends it: "I need some time. To recuperate. This is... a lot to take in."

Her voice is gentle when she speaks to him: "Of course. I am here for you."

"Yes." Batman says. Anything longer and he might let something else slip in his voice that he can't allow.

It is easy to disappear in the Batcave. It is easy because the other Justice Lords are all very much happy to be in the spotlight.

Batman obsesses over the man in Arkham. He never comes back. But he knows, because it is his business to know, that he is a model patient. Even entrusted to help out run Arkham. He loves being around people. But too much excitement tires him out. To pass the time he paints or he spends time with Ivy in the garden. Harleen Quinzel sometimes visits them.

Any footage he can find of the cctv in Arkham depecting the Joker has him subdued. He has scoured so much footage without seeing him shake with laughter. At most he smiles and shrugs his shoulders.

Alfred doesn't say anything. But he makes him tea and he brings it to him more frequently, trying to help him in any way he can. It feels similar, Batman takes the tea and drinks it, to how the first cup of tea tasted like after he had come home that night.

The Justice Lords attempt to get him to leave the Batcave and help them, but Batman tells them he is busy dealing with something important.

He watches the Joker attempt to put puzzles together with Edward Nygma. It's a 12+ puzzle. They're struggling.

Harleen Quinzel brings them 5+ puzzles next time. She sits with the Joker and she tells him about her day, about her new job at a different clinic. About how she wised up. Then, mushing her head in hand: "It was either I wised up, or I became like you and Ivy. Not much of a choice."

The Joker has given up on the puzzle. He tells Harley about this butterfly he saw in the garden. He has nothing else that stood out to him. It was purple. He thinks he likes purple.

Harley scoffs. "Now that's funny."

The Joker shrugs. "Sorry."

"What for?"

He shrugs again. And he manages to look into the camera. And how many times has he looked into Arkham cameras and left messages just for Batman to decipher? Is this something he remembers. Is this something he wants to tell Batman?

"Sorry." He looks at Batman. But Batman thinks that this is the Joker telling him he has nothing to be sorry for.

Batman cuts all contact with Arkham. He does not look at cctv. He does not read any news or any reports.

Alfred still brings tea and he still doesn't say anything. What can he say?

Nothing. So Batman doesn't waste words. He instead pursues research that leads him to finding alternative realities.

Watching himself is not something Batman is interested in. It means nothing to him to see Bruce Wayne or Batman or some amalgam of different circumstances.

And he is just about to step away from the computer and put an end to this research - when he hears it.

It's loud and maniacal and freeing and mad.

It's angry and despicable and outrageous.

It's dangerous and intelligent.

It's him.

Batman stares at the Joker, clad in purple and green, holding a laughing gas bomb and aiming it at the Batman of his world, with a grin so wide it must hurt. "Batsy, just in time for the punchline!" He throws the bomb and laughs.

[toothybat]

How has no one done this yet

[toothybat]

breaking danville. official crossover . yes i plan to do more of these and u should be afraid about it

.

more shitposts n doodles under the cut 👇

feel free to send me asks and comments about this cursed au i have lots of thoughts

[toothybat]

How has no one done this yet

[toothybat]

This gave me an idea:

What would be cool is if Joker sometimes had “false” memories, and made references to things that Batman has no clue of. Because he remembers things that happened over various iterations of his own character. Like, Joker getting confused and making a Nolanverse reference about the two boats in a canon where that never happened. Or mentioning his surfing contest with Batman in the 60’s tv series, to Bruce’s eternal confusion.

And then feeling extremely gaslit and insane after realizing some of his memories never happened in the current canon, or are contradictory to the reality he currently lives in. Like, how can his memory of Riddler being dead (Telltale) be true, if Riddler is standing right in front of him (and looks way different than he remembers)?

And maybe that’s one reason why he clings to Batman so hard. Bats is the most consistent thing in any of his memories. Whatever else happens, Batman is always there to stop him.

It would be so cool to read a fanfic like that.

Reminder from 2002 that when Joker killed Jason, it actually kinda messed Joker up.

[from Harley Quinn (2000) #25]

[toothybat]

Whenever I get into a ship, I end up downloading the entire tag for the ship. The whole thing. I have a Calibre library dedicated to all the fics, and a system for sorting out my favorites. I’ve been burned by fics being deleted far too many times. I am now a bona fide archivist. I’ve even downloaded fics off of livejournal and archive.org for websites built back when geocities was a thing.

I also download art— ever since 5 of my favorite artists deleted their art. (https://hydrusnetwork.github.io/hydrus/index.html this program is a godsend for storing and downloading images, btw)

Further commentary:

I find that the fics that tend to get deleted the most are the fics that feature the most controversial, taboo, transgressive, and/or dead dove tags. I suspect author gets spooked about writing something that goes against the grain, and eventually that fear makes them delete.

Which actually sucks because some of my favorite fics have been fics with tags like that. For example, there was this one Doki Doki Literature Club fic that was a character study about Yuri and her masochism that eventually broke the forth wall and started becoming commentary on the kind of people who read fanfiction like this. It was one of the most unique and interesting things I ever read, and I immediately downloaded it because I knew in my heart the author was gonna get spooked and delete it eventually. And they did. I called it.

People are prone to self-censorship in their writing out of fear of being accused of supporting the things they write irl. Or of being monsters. Of whatever. Being an outcast. Facing the music of being a non-conformist transgressive degenerate. And that sucks, because some of the best writing comes from stuff that breaks convention. That is brutally honest and unafraid and bold and personal.

Another story that got deleted was one in which during the Fantastic Beasts era of time, Dumbledore gets interrogated and the authorities find out he’s gay. And that Grindelwald was his lover. And then Dumbledore gets thrown in prison for this. Grindelwald rescues him, and Dumbledore ends up having to make more moral compromises than he’d like in order to make the world a better place. It was brutal the way Dumbledore was treated and judged for being gay. It was awful seeing him accept that the world wasn’t made for a person like him. The story didn’t hold back.

That’s also part of why I download things I haven’t even read yet now. Sometimes I just scroll through my library and find the stuff that I know is prone to getting silenced and self-censored. Then I check AO3 and just like I thought, it’s gone.

Another reason people frequently delete is that they’ve grown as an author and start hating the fics they wrote before for being less good than their current skill. Which also sucks! Because those fics are some of my favorites as well!!

ok was talking to a friend and now i’m crazy curious:

expand on ur answer in the tags if you want & rb for more answers pls pls pls !!!!

[toothybat]

Whenever I see this panel, I think of this awful meme I made

i think i've reblogged these panels already but idc i don't think people make a big enough deal out of this. like i know joker says a lot of insane shit and he gets progressively more unhinged over the course of no man's land but this is just. ahdhdjfhj??? openly admitting that he's been lonely without batman and saying he's "been waiting for him like a little puppy waiting for his master" LIKE. HELLO? HELLO???

also the "giant, extra-special death trap" thing is so fucking funny. "he'll love the lasers" this is the equivalent of a zookeeper giving a meat-stuffed pumpkin to a tiger at the zoo. he's actually just providing Enrichment to batman's environment

[toothybat]

I had a dream about Batman and the Joker was there. And he— my brain came up with this design for him which I’d never thought of before but now I love. And idk how to describe it. Because most of the change was in the personality, and god, it was weird but amazing?

Bruce Wayne was in Bruce Wayne form, and, Joker was threatening him. And he said something like “what’re you gonna do? Beat me up, Mr. Wayne?” And Bruce punched him in the face and head a truly obscene amount of times. Grabbed that dude by his collar and fed him way too many knuckle sandwiches. Bruce was unhinged.

And the way Joker reacted was... he looked, so human? He was giggling and laughing kind of shyly, like someone trying to save face while being humiliated. Like he was uncomfortable. But at the same time it was like he was owning his discomfort and turning it into something he had control over by enjoying the pain. So it was as if I was watching not a monster who is immune to pain, but a human, a person choosing to take that pain and transmute the violation to his body into something he wanted and intended.

Like, “if I’m gonna get punched, then I’m gonna laugh because at least that way I have some agency over what’s happening to me and I can show you that you may break me with your fists but you can’t break me.” And after Bruce finally stops, which was what felt like 10 minutes but was actually more like 15-20 seconds. Joker looks at Bruce all doe-eyed and in awe, and says, “I love you.” And Bruce hates it so much, but he can’t do anything, because he already punched the heck out of Joker and it didn’t work— and that’s the whole point. Joker was taller than Batman, and gangly, and kind of awkward in his own body because his limbs were just all over the place. He seemed to lack social ability in the sense that his giggles wouldn’t flow with the mood or rhythm of what was happening. They would be jarring because they would interrupt things. It would make everything around him awkward. It was like the world just wouldn’t accommodate a person like him, but he existed anyway. Like, Joker in the comics and in everything seems to have this power and confidence to him that is utterly innate to him. But this one in my dream was like— it was like he was fighting for every scrap of it. It was awesome.

His laugh, it wasn’t loud and commanding. It wasn’t even creepy. It was just awkward and... how do I even describe it? I remember thinking in my dream, “wow, no wonder his laugh is so iconic that it came to be feared. Not because it’s a scary laugh by itself, but because there’s no way you could hear it and miss that it’s Joker.” It was sort of like he was laughing without his own permission. Like a person trying not to laugh at a funeral. But not in the Arthur Fleck way at all. Just awkward.

He was like if you put SpongeBob in Hannibal Lecter’s universe. No wonder he didn’t feel like anyone else was real when he feels so unreal in comparison to everything else.

[toothybat]

I just realized that the fact the mask and cape are beat up and ragged means they might have been stolen from the actual Batman LMAO

Which means, Joker steals pieces of Batman’s costume just so he can give them to his henchman to roleplay with.

Page 8, 9

Pure madness 

Support : https://www.patreon.com/KlausWanderer

[toothybat]

LMAO this is hilarious

Joker just wanted some belly rubs 😭

Well... My roleplays with AI led to some interesting...plot choices...

– Joker, are you a good doggy?

– Ha-ha-ha! No!

– Dogs can't speak.

– Woof-woof!

[toothybat]

Old ““friends””

[toothybat]

No joke, but I hadn’t watched a SINGLE Batman movie. Hadn’t played a single Batman game. My only exposure to the franchise was the Starkid parody musical. I impression of Joker was a cringe icon the dudebro wannabe alpha males championed as an icon.

Then I stumbled on this clip of the game on YouTube and I plummeted right into Batjokes hell. I was a goner. Bruh. I mean INSTANTLY. The second that Joker said, “nobody serenades you but me, Bats” it was a done deal. No escape. Batjokes got me in a chokehold.

Now I own ~100 lego Batman minifigures. Urgh.

Thank you for drawing this clown giving his Broadway best. He’s lovely.

guys is it gay to be serenaded by your enemy?

[toothybat]

Bruh the very idea of Joker writing in his Morse code journal the things he can never bring himself to admit out loud. Every confession. Every depressing thought he won’t let himself dwell on otherwise. A purge of everything about himself he hates, that goes against who he thinks he is. Who he thinks he should be. A great heaving expunging of his own humanity, tapped on the walls of a solitary cell, deep in the chasms of an insane asylum.

Maybe he hates solitary, not because of the sensory deprivation. Of the lack of stimulation. The isolation. No, those things are bad. But they aren’t what scares him the most. No. What he finds in that lonely, maddeningly silent cell… the thing that awaits him, like a gasping, dying creature reaching out to pull him into a black hole he’s terrified he’ll one day not find his way back out of… the thing he tries so hard to erase, to excise, to amputate… when you strip away everything, and leave him with nothing, no distraction, alone. All that’s left. Is the human part of himself. Weak. That knows it’s broken and worthless because it’s beyond saving. Pointless.

He hates the reminder.

Batman sees a monster, whenever they fight.

But in that cell, he sees a person.

What if, whenever he's sent to solitary, entirely restrained and trapped with his own thoughts, Joker writes diaries.

It's canon that he knows Morse code, and that he's used it to communicate with other inmates through the walls. And it's also canon that he's the kind of guy who draws and scribbles and writes down thoughts and schemes. It definitely helps organize the chaos in his head... and if sensory deprivation gets thrown in, there's no doubt Joker goes a little more insane each time he's left utterly alone. He needs stimulation, and being made unable to move freely and given nothing for his mind to chew on must be torturous.

So maybe he writes journal entries in Morse code, tapping away with whatever limb he's got available. And maybe one day, entirely by accident, Bruce hears the pattern. He goes back to the Batcomputer and has it analyze all the data from Joker's cell that's available, has it translate the Morse code into text.

Bruce buries himself in the Cave for days on end, reading. What if there's some kind of crucial clue in there, after all? But they're all either letters to Batman, or to Joker himself. Sometimes they're entirely disjointed and make no sense, other times they're painfully self-aware. They're sad and contradictory, either describing Batman's death in graphic detail or begging him to come back, to save him, to kill him-- and Bruce won't ever be able to look at Joker the same way.