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ohbo-ohno · 7 months

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Kinktober Day 15 - Noncon

Ghost x Reader - 4.6k (on ao3)

summary: You find yourself cornered in a Maze of Mirrors. (Reader POV)

cw: noncon everything, face fucking, pussy slapping, degradation, kinda a wedgie? like a front wedgie? is that a thing?, orgasm denial

note: if you like this (or hate it but like the concept) read Halloween Haunt by Harley Laroux <3 her erotica is top tier

You’ve always loved Halloween - always been the kid with the scariest costume in class, always had the house decorated with uncomfortably realistic decorations. When your sorority sisters dressed up as black cats and sexy witches, you spent hours painting the most realistic zombie makeup you could. (Your sisters complained for months that you ruined the pictures, but the frat boys had all thought your makeup was far more interesting than theirs. God, you do not miss college.)

Regardless, you’ve always been known to love any and everything scary. There’s something about the thrill of a scare - the creeping horror as you start to realize what’s coming, the ultimate reveal - that always gets you a little squirmy in your seat. Your first crush was Skeet Ulrich in Scream - specifically the scene where he’s covered in blood, licking his fingers.

You get all those ooey-gooey good scared feelings as your friend drags you through the decently crowded fairgrounds. The actual fair - the one that comes yearly, that no one ever calls anything but the fair - had left only two weeks ago, so this travelling fair had set things up in mostly the same arrangement and, you suspect, to trick certain people into thinking they were the same company.

You’ve already forgotten what your friend said the event was called. She hadn’t needed to give many details to convince you - you heard travelling circus, horror themed, interactive workers, and you were in. The branding isn’t very strong anyways, the only place the name was displayed was the entrance booth, and none of the workers seem to wear any sort of logo, so you don’t feel too forgetful for letting it slip your memory so easily.

You’re not very impressed with the fear factor so far. You hadn’t done too much makeup (hadn’t wanted to risk being mistaken for a cast member) but since it’s the night before Halloween you’ve got a half-done costume on - a clown. Just some white face paint, black lips, and overdrawn triangles around the eyes, a little smudged to make it look like you’ve been chasing someone down and working up a sweat. Your hoodie and tennis skirt look a bit out of place, but you’d wanted to be comfortable since you hoped you’d be spending your night running from actors.

But even a face full of makeup feels like it might’ve been too much effort for this place. Most of the costumes look like they’re from Party City at best - some of them even look very lazily hand-made - and none of the workers seem particularly interested in scaring people. Still, the crowd is easily amused and even a wave or a feint towards a customer has shrieks ringing in the air every few minutes.

You sigh a little disapointedly as you and your friend linger on the edge of the fairgrounds, off to the side and in the dark so you don’t have to deal with the crowd. She pulls out a cigarette and offers you her light.

“I’m sorry,” she says, lighting the stick between your teeth when you lean forward. “I really thought it would be scarier than this. Some of the posters…” she exagetates a shiver. “I thought they’d at least have better costumes.”

You eye a man in a werewolf mask across the pathway, pissing into the dirt. He’s got a flannel and jeans on, and the mask is a little bit crumpled like he pulled it out of a Walmart bin this morning. You’d bet money the flannel was just a happy coincidence he noticed when he showed up for work.

“Yeah,” you sigh, blowing out a lungful of smoke and watching the actor try not to get his dick stuck in his zipper. “Not really your fault, though, these things always look scarier in the ads. Wanna get out of here soon?”

You pass the cigarette to her. “In a bit,” she replies. “I want to try and find some food first. You hungry?”

You shake your head with a grunt. “I wouldn’t trust anything cooked here, honestly. Might just pick up something on the way back.”

She passes you the cigarette for one last breath. “Well I’m too hungry for that. You good on your own for a bit?”

You crouch down a moment to stub out the cigarette, leaving the butt in the gravel. “Yeah, sure. Might see if these fun houses have anything worth seeing in them.”

“You should!” She smiles over her shoulder at you as she starts off to a more well-lit section of the fair. “You never know, maybe they stick the real scares in there!”

You give her a final wave and shout, “Here’s hoping!” at her back as she leaves.

You linger outside for a little longer, scanning the few structures nearby to decide which one you want to waste a few tickets on.

There’s a Freak Show, but you already know you’d be horribly disappointed if you went in there, something labeled a “House of Horrors” that you’re sure is as much a scam as the freak show, and a few games that have cheap prizes lined up above them.

Across from you, with no lights around it and just one attendant - slumped over, hopefully sleeping - at the front, is a House of Mirrors. Figuring it’s the least likely to be a waste of time (and knowing the kid won’t wake up to charge you), you head over to the building.

The closer you get the more you worry about if he’s asleep or dead, but his snores rattle the little tickets resting on his desk so you figure he’s just a slacker. It’s almost too easy to get by him with all your tickets safe in your pocket. There’s no one else around the darkened corner of the fairgrounds, but you’re quite sure no one would bother snitching on you this late at night. All the parents with little kids left hours ago, leaving mostly teenagers and adults of varying ages left to wander the park.

There’s music playing from speakers that you can’t see, an old clown-themed song that sounds like it’s playing on a scratched up DVD. You’re pleasantly surprised as you make your way through the dusty lobby and into the main section of the building, creatively labeled MAZE OF MIRRORS.

Their branding could definitely use some work, but you’ll give them points for ambience - the lights are turned so low that it’s nearly too dark to see, making all of the mirrors even more difficult to spot. You find yourself a little spooked as you start to make your way through the maze, grinning to yourself.

It’s a shockingly difficult maze, you quickly discover. The music is so loud in some spots that you can hardly hear your thoughts, and so faint in others that you think it might be turned off. The maze itself is a series of either tight, tiny hallways or large open rooms. Whoever designed it clearly knew how to take advantage of the space they were given, the maze feels ten times bigger than it looked on the outside as you wander through.

You know the trick to mazes - keep one hand on the right wall and eventually you’ll find your way out - but it’s fun to just wander around the place, so you let yourself get stuck wandering in circles. You’re glad your friend isn’t here to see how many times you manage to walk into a mirror fully confident that it’s not there, only to whack yourself in the face. For how low maintenance the rest of the fair is, you’re surprised that the hall of mirrors is what they focus their upkeep on.

You’ve been in the maze for about five minutes when you see him.

He scares the shit out of you at first. You spot him behind you in a mirror - one you’d just walked into, which is the only reason you can see well enough to notice him - standing at the entrance to the hallway you’d turned down. He’s clad in all black, except for the skull mask over his face. You think he’s just something taped onto the wall with the way that he blends in, but then that mask titls to the side and you’re struck with the bone-deep knowledge that you’re being watched.

“Shit!” You shout when it first registers that he’s not a piece of paper, one hand coming up to clasp at your erratically beating heart while the other steadies you against the mirror. He doesn’t move past tilting his head a bit further, and after a moment you relax.

You don’t turn around, but you study him a bit in the mirror. It’s too dark to see much more than the outline of his body, but he’s big. He looks like he’s wearing a long sleeved t-shirt and jeans with the mask, and he must be wearing gloves to cover his hands since you can’t see them.

You huff out a laugh as you let both of your hands fall to your sides.

“You got me good,” you call, glancing over your shoulder. You almost jump again - he’s closer than you’d realized, but too far away for you to touch. “I didn’t even see you follow me in here.”

He doens’t say anything. You turn around more fully, leaning back against the mirror and crossing your arms across your chest.

“You gonna start chasin’ me now?” You ask, cocking an eyebrow. You’re playing up the sass, but it’s always fun to mess with theme park employees.

The man takes a few steps forward, heavy boots thudding against the cheap wood flooring. He really is an intimidating bastard, far scarier than any of the other actors you’d seen so far.

“Well?” You call out, standing up from your spot. “Do I get a head start?”

Still no answer. He rolls his head on his neck, then steps to the side and walks into one of the connecting hallways without sparing you a glance. When you step closer to see which direction he’s chosen, he’s already gone.

You huff another laugh to yourself, shaking out your limbs and bouncing a few times on your toes.

Now that you know there’s someone in here with you, the thrill of a scare is starting to get you worked up. You hope they don’t have any rules against physical contact between actors and customers, just imagining the skeleton man tackling you has shivers running up your spine.

You don’t bother to be any quieter as you keep wandering through the maze. You bump into just as many mirrors, continue to question the speaker placement, and keep an eye out for any skeleton masks lingering behind you.

You see him a few more times, always behind you, always just out of reach. He gets progressively closer everytime you spot him. You're reminded of the Weeping Angels from Doctor Who - every time you look away, he gets closer.

It’s fun. More fun than you’ve had all night.

He finally catches up to you what you guess is about half an hour later. Youre just turning another corner, thinking about how it’s been a bit since you’ve seen your shadow, when a hand plants itself firmly between your shoulder blades and shoves.

You’re sent to the ground with a cry, palms scraping against the floor. There’s a gloved hand collaring your throat before you can think to do much more than catch your breath, hauling you up and holding you in the air.

Your eyes fly to the mirror less than a foot away, staring wide-eyed at the image reflected.

There’s you, in your messy clown makeup and hoodie, being held up by a giant swath of black behind you. He’s not ducking down at all, his feet planted on either side of your splayed legs as he towers above you. The way you’re being held up, your head doesn’t even reach his belt buckle. The contrast of your shock and discomfort to his plastic mask has your thighs clenching, just a bit.

He doesn’t duck lower, just tilts his head in that now-familiar way of his and pulls you a little further up. His hand is absolutely massive, thumb resting beneath one ear and his fingers resting below the other. You choke a bit as you’re lifted, knees scrambling beneath you.

This close to the mirror you can see his eyes - bright blue, surrounded by black paint, and staring back into yours.

He lowers his head, his free hand tugging your hair until you lean back and look straight up. The hand on your neck shifts to hold you in that position, his other hand lifting to pull the black part of his mask up.

He’s white, with thin lips and a broad jaw. You pant as you stare up at him, incapable of processing what’s going on.

His jaw works for a moment, lips twitching, and before you realize what he’s about to do you feel something wet splatter against your cheek.

He spit on you. Who the fuck does that? Being tackled and manhandled is one thing but spitting? You recoil reflixivley, lips curling as you reach up to try and wipe disgusting liquid off.

“What the fuck-” You start, but before you can even finish your sentence you’re yanked forward by your neck.

You yelp as you’re thrown from between his thighs, hips twisted awkwardly and head slamming back against the mirror. You cry out at the sharp pain at the back of your skull, but before you can think of doing anything there’s a hand around your neck again, a body crouched in front of you - over you - keeping you from doing anything.

You gape up at the actor, panting and surprised. None of the other employees even got close to touching customers - half of them didn’t even look like they wanted to be there - what the hell is this guy’s problem? Does he just take his job way too seriously

He’s far too close to you now, your nose nearly brushing where his shoulder be, his boots on either side of your thighs, his chest pressed so close that you can’t do anything with your hands.

The hand not around your neck comes up to your cheeks, grabbing them both in one hand and pinching until your lips pucker up. You squirm, letting out a noise of surprise and pain when his thumb and pointer finger dig in between your teeth to force your mouth open. One eye squeezes shut at the ache, but there’s nowhere for you to go with him caging you in.

This time when he spits, it lands right in the little hole he’s made for himself. With how close he is, you see the way his lips twitch up in the corners.

You try your best to get out from under him, hands pushing at his shoulders and legs desperately kicking. But he’s like a statute above you, hard as stone and immoveable.

He leans so close that his lips nearly brush yours, meeting your glare with a spark of amusement.

“Like how it tastes?” He purrs, chest rumbling against yours.

You make a noise somewhere between offended and annoyed, trying to throw yourself every which way for even an inch of freedom. All you manage is a tighter grip on your jaw and neck, leaving you wincing.

“Lots more where that came from,” he promises.

It’s insultingly easy for him to manhandle you, and you curse all the times you swore to yourself you’d finally start taking self-defense classes. You can barely manage a single blow, and when your hands or feet do make contact he doesn’t even flinch.

There’s absolutely nothing you can do as you’re wrestled to the floor. He gets you flat on your back then kneels over your head, his knees so close that you worry he’ll squeeze them together and pop your head like a berry.

He doesn’t give you a chance to sit up, planting one heavy hand in the center of your chest and leaning his weight forward, knocking the air out of you. You finally regain the ability to speak when his other hand moves to his belt, undoing it right above your face.

“What are you-? No, no, get the hell off me!” You shout, desperately pushing at his arm and trying to get enough leverage with your feet to squirm away. “Don’t you fucking dare- help! Somebody help!”

Your screams go ignored, blending right in with that stupid clown music and bouncing off the mirrors just to come straight back to your ears. Your noise doesn’t deter him at all, and he’s got his belt off and jeans yanked down despite your resistance.

“No, no, no, don’t- stop, please, you can’t-” you gasp, eyes flying wide as you find yourself staring up at his cock above you.

He doesn’t give you any warning, just grabs your jaw, holds it open, and sheathes himself down your throat.

Your limbs spasm, every instinct in your body screamin to get away as he slips right past your gag reflex. You’re terrified that you’ll vomit and choke on his cock, the fear dousing you in icy cold and leaving you limp for a minute. All you can think about is breathing around the intrusion in your throat, finding some way not to suffocate and die on a sticky mirror maze floor.

“Finally,” you hear him grunt from above you. He grabs both of your wrists, easily ignoring your weak pulls and tying them together with his belt. “Somethin’ to shut you up.”

You try and make a sound around his cock, yanking your hands away and panicking even more when you feel how firmly tied they are. You make another sound, insitively trying to cry out even with something stuffed in your mouth.

He moans above you, lowering himself to his elbows over your body. “Yeah, just like that,” he pants. “Mouth feel’s fuckin’ heavenly.”

You go silent, determined not to give this piece of shit anything he wants. Tears pour down your temples and across the tops of your ears, and your throat burns.

His hips move slowly against your face, grinding himself as deep as he can get before pulling out just a few inches and sliding back in. He’s got an unfairly large cock, and there’s already an ache developing in your jaw from just seconds held so wide open.

His foreskin catches on your teeth when he pulls the whole way out just to fuck back in, and you’re sharply reminded of the fact that you have teeth.

When his cock bottoms out, his balls resting against your eyes, you bite down, praying it’s enough to break skin.

It’s not. Instead of blood pouring into your mouth and a screaming man falling off of you, you hear the man snarl, pulling his dick out entirely and slamming it back down your throat so harshly that it feels almost like he’s punched you in the face.

“No fucking teeth,” he snaps above you, and you feel his weight shift back onto his knees, then his hands grab at your thighs and throw them open. He flips your skirt up and before you can think to bite down again lands a stinging slap against the gusset of your underwear.

You nearly scream around his cock, hips snapping closed to try and smother the pain. He only growls another sound, using one hand to hold you open and the other to rain down a series of progressively harder smacks.

Your breath hitches as you sob, hardly able to get any air in around his thrusts as he starts them back up again. Every time he buries himself to the hilt inside of you, he lands another hit to your poor pussy. You can’t help but wail around him.

“There it is,” he moans, the sound loud and unrestrained. “God you feel good screamin’ around my cock. Good fuckin’ hole, huh?”

He punctuates the last four words with slaps, leaving his length inside your throat and going back to that horrible grinding against your face. You go silent again, using all of your willpower to keep from screaming. What little thought is left in your head is used to figure out how best to breathe through your nose without choking on snot.

He doesn’t smack you again, but you feel his fingers trace around the edges of your panties. Your hips wiggle against your will, just trying to get away from the violation. One of your legs is pinned to the floor by the thigh, but the other oscillates between going limp and trying to get leverage and force your body up.

His fingers hook around the gusset of your underwear, but before you can even worry about him touching you there, he pulls them up towards your body.

He does it with such force that you’re left squealing, hips flying off the ground to try and lessen the pressure against your clit. His hand pulls so far up that you feel it resting nearly at your belly button. You can’t help the little gasping, gagging noises as he starts to thrust in and out of your mouth again.

You hear - you feel - him laugh, swaying his hand from left to right. Your hips try to follow naturally, just desperate to alleviate any of the pressure you can.

“Like a little puppet,” he murmurs, yanking even further up, moaning when you scream.

He lets them go only a few thrusts later, big hand smoothing the fabric down over your cunt. You can feel that it’s stretched out, a little looser around the meat of your pussy, and the thought only makes you cry harder.

But you go silent again. It’s the one thing left in your control - even pinned to the floor, hands tied, legs useless, mouth stuff, you can decide how much noise you make.

He doesn’t like that. He groans a little when you go quiet again, tapping your thigh sharply.

“No, come on, make your little noises again. Feels real nice on my cock.”

This time you’re ready for the smack against your vulva, and you remain silent. You stay silent for the next three too.

His hips work with a little more force again, balls smacking against your face and leaving you to squeeze your eyes shut. After the next slap his hand doesn’t lift again, just rubs over your vulva slowly.

It’s pure luck on his part that he happens to rub over your clit. It’s a pure lack of luck on your part that you moan at the sudden and unexpected pleasure, completely taken off guard.

He stills above you, then slowly repeats the movement. You’re helpless to the little whimpers coming from your throat, and you curse the fact that you’ve always been loud during sex. He zeros in on exactly how to rub your clit unreasonably quickly, fingers sure through the fabric of your underwear.

“That what you need?” He rumbles a laugh above you. “Pain won’t make you noisy, but pleasure will? I can work with that.”

Before you can even begin to question what that means, your underwear are tucked to the side, and there’s a face buried in your pussy.

He doesn’t bother taking any time to explore or try and learn your body, just dives tongue-first to your clit. His technique of lick first, figure out what feels good later unfortunately works on you, and you’re left writhing beneath him, eyes rolled back in pleasure and moans muffled.

He groans agaisnt you, too, lips vibrating against your clit in a horrible and delicious way. “There you go.” You can barely hear him over the sounds of your own choking, especially with his own voice muffled in your folds. “That feels good, keep going.”

You don’t want to, but the magic he works against your clit leaves you no choice. You can’t help the hitched cries spilling from your lips, even if they make you cry all that much harder as you hear them.

He doesn’t take much longer to come, and you’re torn between resenting the fact that it’s your sounds that get him off and being glad that he does so he can get off of you.

He comes with a loud groan, sent right into your cunt and dragging you far too close to an edge you do not want to see, and sends thick ropes right down your throat. It’s almost a kindness that you can’t taste him, only have to swallow as quickly as possible so you don’t choke. The movements of your throat only draw out his orgasm though, and you’re locked in a terrible cycle for what feels like an eternity.

He doesn’t get you off. You’re not sure if you’re thankful or not.

You gasp when he finally pulls out of your throat, taking uninhibited breaths for the first time in far too many minutes. You can’t shut your jaw from the pain, but you also can’t kick your legs when he kneels up more fully.

He’s silent as he takes back his belt, and no matter how much you beg your arms to move, they remain still on your stomach. He shifts off of you, and you whine wordlessly when he grabs a handful of your hair, wiping his flaccid cock off in it.

Still, you don’t move.

He stands and redoes his belt silently, the jingle loud even with the clown music still playing. You stare up at him, and he holds eye contact with you. For some reason, you can’t look away.

He crouches down again before he leaves, and you can’t help but flinch away. He doesn’t touch you sexually again, though, only reaches out and pushes your jaw closed with two firm fingers.

You hate that he still has the mask pulled up, because it means you can see his smirk.

“That was fun. Maybe we’ll do it again sometime.”

He’s gone before you manage to understand what he’s said, and the tears start all over again when you do.

—

It takes you a while to scrape yourself off of the floor. You only catch sight of yourself in one mirror before you stare at the ground.

Your makeup is ruined, teartracks running down your temples and both cheeks. There are smudges along your jaw where his hands grabbed. Your lips are swollen and red. It could not be more obvious what’s just happened to you.

You plant one hand on the wall to your right, and keep your eyes firmly planted on your sneakers as you leave the maze. You feel almost detached from yourself, unable to truly understand what happened, what it means.

The throbbing between your thighs is distracting. You worry you might chafe from how soaked your panties are.

It doesn’t take long to find your friend once you finally make it out. She takes one look at you and laughs, teases you about having fun without her. You can’t bring yourself to correct her, and she picks up on your tone quickly, dropping the subject.

The two of you walk silently to your car. You hate it, but you can’t help but scan every actor. Thankfully - or maybe not thankfully? You don’t know anymore - none of them are even close to as big as the masked man in the hall of mirrors was.

You tuck your hands beneath your armpits as you finally make it to the parking lot, walking as quickly as you can get away with without running. Your limbs go a little looser as you get to your car, mind relaxing as it recognizes how close you are to safety.

You freeze when you finally make it to the driver’s side door, lungs going still and heart beating so quickly you worry it’ll pound right out of your chest.

There, sitting in the driver’s seat, is a skeleton mask sewed onto a balaclava.

#this is not very edited but i am BEHIND #this was originally gonna have like two more scenes but then it started to annoy me #i am coming to you again to confess: i did not read through this #ghost riley x reader #ghost cod #call of duty fanfic #cod fanfic #kinktober #kinktober day 15 #bo writes #ghost x you #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #kinktober 2023

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min1check · 4 months

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Leto! Joker x side chick! Reader ig…

1248 words

Barely proofread ts so i’m so sorry if u see errors

pt 2

Description: You work at one of Joker’s clubs and he starts to take an interest in you….

Every night there would be presents and money left on my small table in my small ass kitchen in this small ass apartment.

It all started when I finally learned the real identity of my boss’s boss’s boss at the club I worked at. I really needed money desperately for my family who lived out of the country. I’m currently working on the papers so they can gain legal presence but until then I need to work hard and study hard.

At the club I worked at, they paid me better than most places and I would be able to go to university in the daytime and work at night.

The club was pretty high class, there were many high profile politicians who were VIPs. Given that they were even at a club, they were most if not all sleezebags who tried to hit on the staff to the point that I could file sexual harassment charges. But nevermind that.

The club was so high class and full of VIPs that I didn’t expect it to be owned by the biggest crime lord in this city, the Joker. This whole city was corrupt in and out. Even if I tried to file those sexual harassment charges I would’ve been shut up instantly.

When I saw this head of green hair and his pale deathly looking skin and his red lips that I couldn’t tell if it was lipstick or blood, I tried my best to not be noticed by him.

Though he looked like a corpse he was extremely attractive. Maybe in another universe I would actually try to get at him. Well and if his fellow Clown Queen of Crime didn't exist. She frightens me even more than Joker. Well actually that’s a lie but as a girl I can say that we’re ruthless when it comes to boyfriends and husbands and such. Too blind and in too much love to use actual reason.

Harley’s beautiful though they genuinely look good together.

I went over to Joker’s table where he was talking to (or more like taunting) his client to drop off the drinks. It seemed that everyone else already knew what his regular drink was and his client’s.

I tried my best not to mess up or to not loudly drop the drinks because at this moment I could actually not stop my whole body from shaking. They continued talking about their deal without even looking at me. I kept a friendly smile on my face.

I walked off a bit quickly because I was terrified. Yet I felt like someone was staring right at me. I quickly turned my head and all I could see in that moment was Joker with his usual devilishly grin looking straight at me. My blood ran cold.

When I was out of his sight I closed my eyes and started to pray.

‘Dear God, please forgive me for any sins I have committed for I do not want to die tonight. I have too much to live for so please don’t let me die. Thank you for everything you have blessed me with Lord, amen.’

I was crying internally.

Literally was gonna kill myself right then and there. But I brought myself back to reality and back to work.

Whenever I would come to work the Joker would be there with Harley.

I literally think I’m going crazy because I think he keeps looking straight at me…. With his girlfriend/wife/partner in crime which was even worse. Yeah he was hot but cheating men are scum of the Earth. And Joker’s a mass murderer and other stuff. To be honest I kinda forgot I’ve been too busy with school to care about politics….

I finally got a shift off and a day off of school today. I’m just gonna sleep and lounge around and be fat. I got out of my bed to go get some more ice cream in my kitchen.

It felt a bit unnerving when I was in the kitchen, like someone was watching me. I shook off the feeling because I had locks on every single window and door. The crime in my country is a bit bad so Gotham wasn’t that much different.

As soon as I turned around to go back to my bedroom with my ice cream in hand…

“Boo!”

“What the fuck?!” I screamed so loud that I dropped my bowl of ice cream and it shattered.

“The look on your face doll… it’s so… funny!” The intruder was the Joker and he couldn’t and wouldn’t stop laughing at my reaction.

“…” I just stood there in silence thinking about how that bowl was so expensive…

I didn’t want my floor to be sticky so I started picking up shards of the really expensive bowl.

“Aww~ Are you.. mad doll~?” He teased me with his usual grin.

“Not really, I’m just a little sad because this bowl was really expensive.” I sighed to myself.

“If that’s it then here.” Joker tossed money at me.

“Um… It’s okay I’ll just work for it back.” My mom always taught me that I shouldn’t accept money and that I should always offer to pay so I gave that money back to him.

“Just take it Doll, think of it as my~ first~ gift~ to~ you~” he really emphasized on the last part like really.

He got comfy and sat down on a table chair as I cleaned the floor from the sticky mess.

That sounds a little wrong, I just mean my ice cream trust…

After cleaning it all, it occurred to me…

Why and how did the Joker get into my apartment…

My blood ran cold. I feel like I could turn into a reptile with how much my blood goes cold.

“I liked seeing you at my club but I like seeing you in this shaggy apartment more.” He looked at me.

“Um… how did you get in here?” I spoke quietly afraid I would somehow strike a nerve.

“It was easy! I broke your window.” He spoke like he just finished climbing Mt. Everest.

My mouth dropped to the floor.

Like I tried to close it but it just wouldn't.

“…”

“What~? Cat got your tongue Doll?” He grinned.

I’m actually going to kill myself.

At this point I hope he pulls out the glock 19 and shoots me….

Wait but all my windows are barred up…

I looked into my living room and realized there was glass everywhere and the metal bar was stretched apart enough where it would fit the Joker perfectly.

Calculating the cost in my head I actually started to cry. Tears ran down my face.

I would be fine if I picked up a few extra shifts but I had to study more because finals were coming up. I’ll have to cut down on food and sleep…

The Joker awkwardly patted my back.

“Here’s some more money Princess.”

“I.. Cant accept it.” I said between sniffles and pushed his money back to him.

He suddenly grabbed my head with both his hands and made me stare him in the eye.

“Take. The. Money. Princess. Or else I’ll shove it down your throat.” His face was way too close to mine.

“Thank you…” I tried my best to smile while he was still manhandling my head.

He kissed me out of literally nowhere.

My blood went cold again.

I don’t want to be a mistress or some side bitch….

And Harley’s gonna kill me……

Yet it felt so good.

#jared leto joker #joker x reader #leto joker #leto joker x reader #the joker x reader #jared leto joker x reader

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mylifeisfruk4ever · 8 months

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"What the fuck?"

Selina felt that those three words were enough to describe her whole relationship with Bruce Wayne. First as Batman, then as Bruce.

She had thought there might be something between them. Luckily it had passed, and a weird friendship had developed between them. Which might make some people turn up their noses since she was a thief and he was a vigilante but Bruce hasn't been so uptight lately and as long as Selina didn't kill and steal only who deserved it, they were fine.

Still, what the heck?

"Oh, Brucie is growing up," Harley said, all too pleased.

She was upright on the bed, while Pamela sat on the other side trimming her nails, seemingly ignoring the ongoing conversation.

Fuck house arrest for both of them. Why had she accepted? Oh yeah, they were friends.

Alsp, Bruce hoped that with her, Pamela and Harley could direct their impulses towards more correct forms of fighting for their principles, without involving innocent people.

So far it wasn't going to be great, but at least Harley had dumped her clown ex, for good this time, so it was a win.

(Probably more thanks to Pamela than her, but details.)

"Let me get this straight…you, mister, I don't look anyone in the face and if you talk to me for more than five minutes I'll start crying, you want….I can't believe I'm about to say it…learn how to seduce a man."

"Exactly," Bruce replied, as he petted one of Selina's cats.

"Just…why?"

"Who cares?" Harley broke in.

"He finally wants to step outside his boundaries! You have my respect!"

"It's not about going outside my boundaries. It's about planetary security."

"Really?" Selina said, half joking.

"Superman is powerful enough to destroy the planet."

This knocked Harley over, and Pamela finally stopped pretending not to pay attention.

Selina didn't know whether to laugh hysterically or slap him on the head, "Do you want to seduce Superman?!"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"To discover his weaknesses and use them against him when his powers drive him insane."

"Wow, talking about trust issues," was Harley's comment.

"I like to be prepared," Bruce said.

"What did the boy scout do to make you fear that he might become world dictator at the slightest provocation?"

The man pouted adorable, and grumbled. Selina still wasn't an expert at translating each other's mumbling but she swore it was something like smiling too much, and I don't trust him, he's got something to hide.

Harley said, "Isn't Superman having an affair with that reporter? Lois Lane?"

"She is General Lane's daughter. A close relationship is not advisable."

"She seems to know him well. Why don't you ask her?"

"She wouldn't answer me, so as not to betray him. Everyone says he's a hero."

"And you obviously don't believe it," Selina suspected.

"No."

"What makes you think he might be interested in men?" Selina asked him.

Harley laughed, "Cupcake, no completely straight man would wear pants that tight."

"Same conclusion I came to."

Oh good. The fate of the world was entrusted to a pair of tight trousers.

"Besides, I've done some research on him, and I might be his type. At least physically. What I lack is the ability to seduce him to lower his defenses and believe me harmless."

"Ability you think we have?" Selina asked, not sure whether to feel offended or not.

"Gotham is very sexist," Bruce said.

"You did your best to manipulate men who thought they knew better."

Pamela smiled, "I'm liking this one."

“I told you Brucie's one of the good ones,” Harley genuinely smiled as she said it.

"And he's a weirdo, like us."

Selina wanted to moan. This is what happens when you make friends with strange vigilantes. She said, "So Superman has a thing for brunettes. Good to know. Have you thought about what to do in case your brilliant plan fails?"

"It won't fail," he said confidently.

"You don't know," she insisted, trying to give him some common sense. A futile undertaking, it was Bruce she was talking to.

"Superman is overconfident. He will fall into the net."

"Definitely not dressed like that honey," Harley commented, taking a long look to Bruce.

"What's wrong with the way I'm dressed?"

"You look like a creepy stalker," Selina said. Army jacket, hat, scarf to cover her face and mascara for her eyes. Bruce was a walking fashion insult. They're definitely going to have to fix his wardrobe, make him wear things that flatter his body and…

Oh god, she was totally on board with that plan, right?

#fanfiction #books #au #quote #superbat #superbattinson #battinson #the batman #gotham #gotham sirens #selina kyle #bruce wayne #harley quinn #pamela isley #the batman 2022 #autistic bruce wayne #batman fanfiction

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poisonousquinzel · 7 months

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you were never as sweet as my memories made you seem

or: dcau scenes that get taken out of context to appear as cute "ship" moments

Batman: The Animated Series | Harley & Ivy

"I'm only staying long enough to collect what's mine." [Squeals, only for him to grab for her stash] "Hey!"

Batman: The Animated Series | Mad Love

"Aw, come on, Pudding. Don't you wanna rev up your Harley? Vroom, vroom."

[shoves her off the desk]

Batman: The Animated Series | Harlequinade

[Was in the midsts of abandoning her to be blown up by an atomic bomb he planted]

"Hi, pudding. Miss me?"

"You clever little minx. How did you escape from Arkham?"

"Batman sprung me so I could find you. Had me all locked up in his bad old car, too."

"Aww."

Batman: The Animated Series | Beware The Creeper

Justice League | Wild Cards

"Wait... We can't let everything we have be ruined by a silly misunderstanding."

"And just what is it that I'm not understanding?"

"That we're two of a kind. That you'll always come back to me."

"Yeah... I guess I do, don't I? But-"

"Like the swallows in Capistrano. And there's one other thing you're not getting,"

"What?"

"That You Led Batman Right To My Doorstep!"

[Backhands her]

"And that's not all, Mr. Happy. I'm stealing your girl, too." "I swear, Mr. J, I didn't encourage him."

[He grabs her by one of her cowl tails & pulls her over]

"That's okay, pooh. I know you're a one-man loon.

[Uses the grip on her cowl to yank her to the side and discard her behind him]

There's only room for one clown prince in this town."

#harley quinn #harleen quinzel #dc comics #batman the animated series #btas #dcau #♡ my gifs ♡#tw clown boy #tw abuse

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cherrycocaineee · 5 months

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38. Joker - A Love Story For The Books

* Warning: powers/abilities, murder, torture, kind of follows the storyline of Harley Quinn. *

* Synopsis: Even with your telekinetic powers, you’ve always wanted to remain normal to the world and what better way to be normal than to become a psychiatrist like your older sister, Harleen Quinzel. What you didn’t expect was to ever sit in on one of her sessions with the Joker, and neither did Harleen who had done everything in her power to keep you and him away from each other for your own safety. With your new found infatuation with the criminal clown and his amusing interest in you, what could possibly go wrong? Or right, in your opinion. *

Harleen’s dull gray heels drummed against the cold concrete that the two of you were currently walking on. The sound of her heels were accompanied by her flipping through pages on her clipboard. It had been almost thirty minutes since your older sister had spoken a single word to you but you could hear the slow huffs of her breathing as she grumbled in frustration. Harleen wasn’t angry with you, no, in fact she was more worried about you than anything; instead, she was pissed off at her boss who assigned you to her side today knowing that she was working with the Joker. Even though Harleen was seething with frustration, worry, and anger, you were ecstatic. You were tired of the same old same old everyday and you swore if you had to listen to another person talk about something that lacked any real interest again, you might actually blow your own head up. Of course you understood that not every crazy case was going to be off the walls in terms of interest but because of Harleen’s persistent worry for you in this field of work, she’d made it her life’s mission to keep you with all the snooze fest patients.

You were so lost in your rambling thoughts you hadn’t noticed Harleen had stopped until you smacked right into her. A yelp left your dusty rose lips as you quickly drew your hand up to your nose that was now throbbing in pain.

“A warning next time would be great,” you grumbled.

“Sorry,” she replied shortly, “Now listen up, okay. Whatever he says in there, you can’t listen to him. He’s going to make up some sad story about his childhood, it’s fake so don’t fall for it.”

Your eyebrow arched up quizzically, “Then why do you let him tell you something if you know it’s false?”

“Because you learn more from the patients who lie.”

Harleen didn’t say another word before placing her keycard against the lock. There was a quiet chime before the red light switched to a green light, then the sound of metal scraping against metal abused your ears as the lock came undone. The noise was so loud, you almost flinched. When the noise subsided, Harleen pulled the door open and walked inside, leaving the door open so that you could go inside too.

On the inside of this cell it was like any other cell here; there was a single bed sitting in the corner of the room with a thin mattress that didn’t even have a sheet on it; a small, paper thin blanket for them to cover up with laid folded at the end of it as if it had never been used before; in the opposite corner was a desk attached to the wall with a singular, shitty chair for sitting at. Other than those things, the room was pretty bare but most of them were. Occasionally there would be a few patients who had wall art hanging up from their family members or from themselves but it was rare.

As Harleen made her way to the rickety chair in the corner to sit down at, you finished closing the door, waiting for the lock to click. Through the window there were two guards standing at their post which was protocol when a psychiatrist entered a room with any of the patients; they were all criminally insane and at any point in time they could do something to cause harm.

There wasn’t another chair for you to sit in, so you ended up standing beside Harleen. Your eyes had been so busy everywhere else you’d failed to see the Joker sitting at the edge of his bed completely swaddled in a straight jacket. His icy blue eyes pierced right through you causing you to swallow hard on the build up of saliva collecting in your mouth. Harleen’s pen clicking was what helped you to switch your gaze away from him but you could still feel him looking at you.

“Dr. Quinzel,” the Joker purred, “I’ve been looking forward to seeing you. And I see you’ve brought a lovely guest. What’s your name, doll?”

You didn’t get a chance to answer because your sister did for you.

“You’ll address her by Dr. Quinzel too, Joker,” Harleen stated promptly, not even looking up from her clipboard.

“Two Dr. Quinzels!” He hollered delightfully, “Aren’t I the lucky one?”

When Harleen didn’t reply to his outburst, you gave him a small smile.

“I’m her younger sister,” you added, “Y/N.”

“Y/N Quinzel,” he mulled over, a grin plastered on his painted lips, “I like the sound of that.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his compliment, at least that’s what you thought it was.

“That’s enough,” Harleen said, “it’s time to get started.”

You couldn’t blame Harleen for trying to stick to her questions, she had always wanted to be a psychiatrist and she took her work incredibly serious. You pulled out the copy of questions your sister gave you and readied yourself to follow along with the conversation. You didn’t need to write anything down, that was Harleen’s job, all you needed to do was listen in and learn. It was a practice run so that eventually you could start talking to patients by yourself.

“Now, Joker,” Harleen started, “why don’t we start where we left off.”

“Right,” he chuckled, “where did we leave off, Dr. Quinzel?”

Turns out they left off talking about the Joker’s father. Like Harleen had told you, the story was sad and in your opinion, it was overly sad. And he kept changing things, making it almost impossible for you to keep up with the conversation. What you did notice was the way his eyes watched you. You weren’t sure if you should say anything, your sister’s head buried in her papers where she couldn’t see anything. Maybe that was her way of keeping things professional, she didn’t stare at her patients too long or at all. The Joker didn’t seem to mind her not paying attention to him, his gaze was fixed on you and he had no intention of looking anywhere else for the entire session. It was weird to you because even though his eyes should have been making you squirm where you were standing, it wasn’t; in fact, they felt nice. There was no other way to describe it because it was nothing you’d experienced before. It was almost predatory like but there was a hint of possessiveness. Now there was no way you were paying attention to the actual reason you were here and judging by the smirk on his ruby stained lips, he knew it too.

Before you knew it, the session was over and Harleen was thanking the Joker for his time; something she did with all her patients. She was also the first to leave the room, leaving you behind which worked out perfectly for you. You stole another glance back at the Joker, his eyes still resting on you. You swallowed hard, turning on your heel to leave, the door closing behind you. It was odd, once the door closed and locked you found yourself missing his presence. Sighing heavily, you shook your head and ran after Harleen, grateful that you had worn converse instead of heels like she did.

For the next couple of weeks you joined Harleen in her sessions with the Joker; after about the fifth session, you’d been upgraded to a chair which worked for your aching feet. Harleen was gathering her belongings when the Joker decided to press his luck in having an actual conversation with you.

“How are you liking your chair?” He questioned, “I’ve noticed you swaying on the balls of your heels for the last couple of sessions. Couldn’t see you in any pain any longer so I asked one of the guards to bring you your own chair.”

You hadn’t noticed before but you had even started massaging your ankles trying to remove some of the swollenness, even now you were doing it even though you’d been sitting. Though sitting in this chair for a mere hour didn’t compare to the rest of the day when you were on your feet.

“Oh,” you said, meeting his eyes and pulling your hand away from your ankle, “thank you, that was very kind. It actually feels nice to get off of my feet for even just an hour.”

“That’s so good to hear.”

“Y/N.”

Harleen’s voice sliced through your conversation like a freshly sharpened knife causing you to flinch.

“It’s time to go.”

She was holding her notes against her chest, staring at you knowingly.

“Right!” You said, hopping out of your seat, “right. Let’s get moving then.”

Before you and Harleen had left the room, the head doctor, Dr. Louis, poked his head in. There were two guards accompanying him for his own protection; a lot of these psychotic criminals would enjoy getting their hands on him so he needed to be watched over constantly.

“Ah, I thought I’d find the two of you here. I just wanted to let you guys know that from now on Y/N will be taking the Joker as her patient. Harleen, you’ll be seeing after our newest patient.”

“What?” Harleen and I said at the same time.

It wasn’t in the same tone: Harleen’s was more disbelieving while yours was more exciting. You had started working here a year ago but had never been allowed to take on patients by yourself. You always accompanied another doctor with their patient which is why you were so damn bored with it. Unless you were a high level doctor like Harleen or Dr. Louis, you didn’t get to see the incredibly dangerous criminal patients that they harbored here at Arkham. It astonished you that Dr. Louis was trusting you with the most dangerous patient here. Of course it might have something to do with your telekinesis, you could easily apprehend the Joker with your mind if you wanted to.

“We have a new patient coming in, she’ll need a lot of your attention, Harleen. I’m sure with Y/N’s skills, she’ll be able to handle this clown with ease.”

You stole a glance at the Joker who was now laying back on his bed with an amused look on his face, unbothered by Dr. Louis’ choice of words.

“You hear me, Joker,” Dr. Louis added, “your new doctor will now be Y/N Quinzel, so get use to seeing her face.”

He grinned wickedly, “I look forward to a fresh, new, beautiful face.”

Dr. Louis left the cell with Harleen running after him in protest, leaving you alone with the Joker for the first time. You turned to the table where Harleen had thrown her things down at the sudden news. All of the papers were scattered now, some even littering the floor, making you huff.

“My,” the Joker chuckled, “she’s trying so hard to keep you away from me.”

“Don’t pay her any mind,” you said, kneeling down to pick up her discarded papers, “she’s just protective of her little sister, is all.”

He didn’t say anything and the silence between the two of you was peaceful. You finished gathering all of Harleen’s papers before standing up and turning to him.

“Guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” you state.

“Guess so,” he sang, still grinning from ear to ear.

For the first time since you’ve been sitting in on these sessions, you smiled back. The way you went about things was completely different from your sisters: whereas she was cold and distant, you felt that it made things easier to be friendly towards the patients, it helped them trust you just a bit more. Without another word, you gave a slight wave and left the room, listening as the doors locked behind you.

The next day you were over the moon since it was your first day being alone with the patient. The night before you stayed up planning every question you could possibly think to ask. You had to ignore Harleen’s countless calls because you knew she was only calling to warn you once again about the Joker’s routine antics. It felt like she didn’t think you could do this but it was ridiculous because you knew you were more prepared than anyone could be.

Pulling an all nighter was probably the worst thing you could have done, on top of the two large coffees that you had plus a third. All of that caffeine was making your heart beat fast but you ignored it, not wanting to be sent home or to the ER on your first day. Like usual, you entered the Joker’s cell, this time alone, and saw the shadow of two guards outside the door. The Joker was sitting in his bed in an upright position as if he had been waiting for you for hours, though you knew that wasn’t true.

“Good morning, Dr. Quinzel,” he greeted.

“Good morning, Joker,” you returned, “and please, just call me Y/N. I’m not really into formalities.”

“Then it’s only fair that you call me Mister J,” he smiled, “it’s what all my friends call me.”

You smiled. “Then let’s get started, Mister J.”

Your first therapy session with the Joker went as well as you expected, of course you didn’t think anything he said was the truth but it amazed you that he could come up with so many different ways to lie about his family life. You didn’t mind the lies, it kind of felt like a new story being read to you everyday which is what you wanted in the beginning.

As you were writing down what the Joker said, you noticed the Joker squirming around his spot.

“Everything okay?” You asked, folding your writing hand over your clipboard.

“Sitting like this for so long makes you kind of stiff,” he grumbled.

His discomfort seemed genuine and you hated it when people were uncomfortable.

“Is your…your jacket too tight?” You asked.

“A bit. But nothing I can’t handle, doll. Now where were we?”

You took a deep breath, thinking of probably the stupidest thing you’ve ever thought of. Only the guards had the keys to the most dangerous criminals white jackets but with your telekinesis you could easily undo it and give him a bit of freedom.

“I could help you.”

He brought his icy blue eyes up to meet your gaze.

“And how could you do that?” He questioned curiously.

“I could remove your jacket. Just until our session is over, then it’ll have to go back on.”

He didn’t seem to understand, everyone knew doctors didn’t carry keys to undo the jackets as well as they didn’t care if the patient was uncomfortable. The question for him was how were you planning to remove the jacket without a key and why would you do something like that?

“How?”

The Joker watched your eyes flutter shut before he realized that his white jacket was starting to undo itself. There was the soft clinking of the locks before they clattered to the floor, the fabric started to untangle itself too, giving the Joker some room to even just wiggle around. That left another question in his head: were you doing this with your mind?

Soon the entire jacket had been removed from his body leaving him shirtless; the jacket was now neatly folded and sitting beside him on his bed. For the first time in months, the Joker was able to move his arms. Standing to his feet, the Joker stretched his arms and popped his back. By then, you had opened your eyes again and were watching his every single move. Not because you didn’t trust him but because it fascinated you to see even someone like the Joker finding satisfaction in being able to stretch his arms out. You honestly didn’t think anything bothered him but clearly you were wrong.

“Feeling better?” You quizzed, pulling yourself up from your chair.

It had been awhile since you had used your telekinesis so it made you dizzy to stand up so fast. You swayed a bit on your feet before tumbling forward, only to be caught by the Joker with his newly free hands. It was the least he could do since you took his chains off.

“I feel fantastic, doll,” he hummed, grinning from ear to ear, “how are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling fine,” you muttered, steadying yourself on your feet, “I haven’t done that in awhile.”

“And what exactly was that that you did?”

“I used my telekinesis to remove your jacket. And later, I’ll use it again to put the jacket back on you.”

Finally you were able to stand on your own so you released the Joker’s broad arms, smiling a thank you to him.

“We have twenty-five minutes left until our session is over, so you have that long to get in as much exercise as you need. We can talk while you do so, it won’t bother me.”

So that’s what the Joker did. As the two of you spoke about his falsified childhood while he did whatever exercise he needed to do. When those twenty-five minutes were up, you quickly put on his jacket before the guards came to escort you out like they did at the end of every session.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Mister J.”

“See you tomorrow, Y/N.”

And that’s how it went for the next couple of months. You would sit with the Joker and discuss a new family situation, never really getting anywhere new, while he was able to freely roam around in his cell while working out his arms from all the knots that were in them. What you weren’t expecting was to fall in love with him. He was kind, sweet, and always asked how your day was going like he actually cared. You didn’t know if he truly did or not but the interest in his voice was much needed, especially lately.

“Oh, kitten,” the Joker purred, getting closer to you, “you seem in a foul mood today. Is everything okay?”

You tore your eyes away from your papers, there weren’t many questions today and it seemed like the questions list was dwindling more and more everyday.

“Uhm,” you cleared your throat, “I’m fine. There’s just a lot going on at home.”

Despite how hard you had been working, you never seemed to meet your parents’ expectations and their expectations were high considering they wanted you to be exactly like Harleen. And more frequently you’d been going over there with Harleen to have family dinners and somehow you never seemed to get the same praise you felt you deserved. Instead, your parents were always finding ways to critique your work, never seeming to understand that you had earned your patient’s trust rather than ignoring their basic needs as human beings. They had said on countless occasions that they wished you were more like your older sister, and you’d be lying if you didn’t say it hurt your self esteem a bit.

“No need to worry yourself about my home troubles, Mister J. Tell me-”

“Ah, ah,” he said, his fingers gripping your chin so you couldn’t look away, “I’m more interested in what you have to say. You can tell me.”

For some reason it really felt like you could tell him. So all of a sudden you found yourself crying out your complaints to the Joker as he consoled you; it was like he was the therapist and you were the criminal in need of some real mental help. And the way he soothed you made you fall in love with him more and more. He patted your back while you wiped away a few tears; you were grateful that you skipped wearing any makeup today even if you looked like you hadn’t slept in weeks. The Joker had his hooks in you and he knew it. By the next session, you’d be ready to give him anything he asked for and he knew just what he needed to make his escape.

The next session, you felt better than before and you had a little more pep in your step too. You were clenching your notepad in your arms as you sped off towards the Joker’s cell. You couldn’t help the feeling in your chest that made you excited to see him and honestly you hoped that he felt the same way. Today you brought him a present, something to brighten up his little area and hopefully make him smile some more. Once again you heard the slow, loud clicking of the metal locks before you pushed the door open. As routine, the door closed behind you and the guards stood outside ready for whatever. However, the inside of the room was just a bit different. There was a table now in the center of the room with two chairs sitting on either side of it. It was a new accessory that was a bit different then what you were use to. The Joker was already sitting patiently at one end of the table, a grin plastered over his painted lips.

“Dr. Quinzel,” he said, “my favorite part of the day.”

“We’ve been over this, Mister J,” you laughed, “just call me Y/N.”

That made his smile wider.

You took your seat across from him, your notepad finding its permanent spot in front of you on the table.

“I got you something,” you said happily.

“What have you got?” He purred.

“Got you a kitty.” You pulled out the stuffed cat and started playing with its little paws.

“So thoughtful.”

As usual, you used your telekinesis to undo his jacket giving him free range to move around. However, he didn’t get up and move around like usual, instead, he sat in front of you just eyeing your every move. You felt nervous under his gaze, a light blush sketching into your cheeks as you tried to look away. You finally built up the confidence to make eye contact with the Joker.

This therapy session wasn’t going anywhere near how they normally went. He was much more flirtatious than usual and you found yourself watching him with eyes filled with admiration, care, and love. You were so lost in his eyes and words that you didn’t realize how close the two of you had gotten, your face merely inches away from his own. You don’t know how it happened but you had fallen in love with him, and despite your brain telling you how stupid it was to be in love with him, your heart yearned for him. There was nothing you wouldn’t do for him and he knew it.

“Should we get started?” You asked, trying to put some space between the two of you.

“Actually Doctor,” the Joker hummed, “there’s something you can do for me.”

“Anything,” you said a bit too excitedly before correcting your tone, “I mean, yeah, of course.”

He shifted. “I need a machine gun.”

The request caught you off guard and your head was screaming at you to stop listening to him like your sister had told you to.

“A machine gun?”

A big, toothy grin stretched from ear to ear.

You knew you shouldn’t do it. That you should warn the guards about his plans. But the way he stared at you, you felt intoxicated and ignored every rational sense you had.

You just weren’t expecting what came next.

You had used your telekinesis to sneak the Joker a machine gun late in the evening, as well as distorting the cameras so you didn’t get caught. You figured he just needed the machine gun to escape, go back to his busy life causing chaos in Gotham. But he had other plans before he went back to his normal shenanigans.

Before you knew it, gunshots were flying through the halls of Arkham as people dressed in animal costumes. Guards were falling down as more and more bullets pierced their skin; you ran, trying to find some coverage while you repeatedly asked yourself what you had done. This wasn’t what you wanted, not even in the slightest. You tried to sneak away, but in the end you were snatched up by some guy in a suit and another guy in a costume. You screamed, thrashing yourself around trying to loosen their grip but they were too strong for you physically. You don’t know why it didn’t come to you, your mind running so fast that you completely overlooked your telekinesis.

The two men strapped you down to what you think was a gurney.

“Get off me!” You snapped through gritted teeth, trying with all your might to push them off.

But in the end, they got the best of you and were able to strap you down. It was only then did you remember your telekinesis, however, the Joker made an appearance distracting you entirely.

“What do we have here?” He grinned, waving his hands around.

He positioned the light above the gurney in front of your face causing you to squint momentarily.

“I did everything you said,” you rasped, “I helped you.”

The Joker just watched you for a second before laughing quietly, anger prominent in his voice as he spoke.

“You helped me by erasing my mind? What few…faded memories…I had left!”

With each word, he slammed his fist against the cushioned gurney. You’d have flinched if you hadn’t loved him so much. You watched him run a hand through his messy green hair.

“Oh. You left me in a black hole of rage and confusion. Is that the medicine you practice, Dr. Quinzel?” He snapped his purple glove.

You shook your head.

“What are you gonna do? You gonna kill me, Mister J?” You asked.

He reached beside you, taking hold of the equipment that some doctors used to erase patients memories of traumatic events in their life. You swallowed a lump in your throat.

“Oh, I’m not gonna kill ya,” he grinned, rotating the shock sticks beside your head, “I’m just gonna hurt ya. Really…really…bad.”

All of a sudden, the small amount of fear you felt in your body was gone. You no longer felt anything but a want to prove that you could handle what he dished out.

“You think so?” You asked, your body no longer shaking, “Well, I can take it.”

The Joker snapped his belt off and folded it in half making a snapping sound as he tightened it. Then he placed the leather material into your mouth making a barrier between your teeth.

“I wouldn’t want you to break those perfect, porcelain cap teeth when the juice hits your brain.”

Then all of a sudden you felt the electroshock surge through your head and you tensed up, your back arching off the gurney. Your telekinesis had a mind of its own while you were incapacitated; the leather straps holding you snapped themselves in half, a table was thrown against the wall, and the lights shattered. It all excited the Joker more and more, making him understandably curious about you but knowing that this was the end of the line for both of you. He’d always have you sketched into his brain and he knew he had left a permanent mark in yours. He just failed to realize that you wouldn’t give up on him just because he caused you a lot of pain.

You practically made it your mission to seek him out; you quit your job much to your families surprise, and you spent every waking day mumbling to yourself as you searched for the Joker. He wasn’t a hard man to track down and when you did manage to find him, he always seemed to need something that involved your telekinesis. You didn’t mind but you had hoped that all of your help would make him consider taking you in and making you his. But it never seemed to work out that way and you were finally getting frustrated, even desperate for him to acknowledge your love for him.

One night you were waiting on the side of the road outside his club, hoping he’d come out and see you. However, you were left disappointed again when you saw him in his purple Lamborghini, driving to God knows where not even sparing you a second glance. You had half a mind to flip it over, show him you aren’t someone to ignore but you didn’t want to hurt him, instead you stole someone’s motorcycle, using your powers to shatter the chain that was used to keep it from being stolen. The owner didn’t know he’d have to protect his bike from thieves with telekinetic powers. And who could blame him as these abilities weren’t common, even in Gotham.

You followed the Joker on the bike, speeding up so that you could catch up to him. Finally you were able to pull up beside him, looking his way in hopes he’d notice you. He did, of course, but his reaction wasn’t one that thrilled you. He pulled his hand up beside him as if trying to block you from his line of sight. Hurt and anger surged through your veins as you let out an irritated yell. You sped up, taking the lead in front of him. Little parts inside you could feel his annoyance creeping across your skin but you didn’t care. Once you were a good distance away, making sure by looking back, you turned the motorcycle on its side and let it scrap against the midnight black paint. Sparks flew and you were positive that the paint on the side was done for. When the bike came to a stop, you hoped off of the part you had been standing on and planted yourself firmly in front of it, any fear in your bones having been erased that day in Arkham.

To anyone looking at it, it looked like the Joker had no intention of stopping but instead had every intention of running you down in the road. However, with an annoyed grunt and a roll of his eyes, he came to a quick, jerky stop.

“You…”

“You’re not leaving me. You’re not leaving me!” You yelled, slamming your palms into the metal of his vehicle.

“You…you really are a pain in the ass.”

Just as the Joker exited his vehicle, an eighteen wheeler pulled up behind him.

“I have done everything you said. Every test, every trial, every initiation. I have proved I love you. Just accept it.” You pleaded, tears pricking the corner of your shining eyes.

He lifted his hands, “Got it, got it, got it, got it. I am not someone who is loved.”

He clapped his hands in front of your face.

“I’m an idea. A state of mind.”

The eighteen wheeler started honking while the Joker spoke. But it didn’t deter him.

“I execute my will according to my plan and you, doctor, are not part of my plan.”

He had done a complete circle around you and was now standing back in front of you, so you pulled your hands up to touch his face. His skin felt nice against your own, almost like they were made for each other and you wondered why he didn’t see that.

Once again, the eighteen wheeler honked this time more frequently.

“Let me in,” you pleaded, “just let me in. I promise I won’t hurt you!”

He had pulled himself away from you, laughing at your words just as the trucker exited the drivers seat of the eighteen wheeler.

“A promise, promise…ha…ha…ha…”

“Hey dickface!” The trucker yelled, “Mind screaming at your bitch somewhere else.”

The Joker continued to laugh, completely ignoring the trucker. Your mind moved on its own and soon the Joker’s personalized gun was removed from his leather jacket. It floated through the air before your mind pulled the trigger, shooting the asshole who was interrupting your conversation. His body fell to the ground with a thud.

“I was gonna say,” the Joker said, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

He had stolen a quick glance at the dead trucker before returning his gaze to you, this time the floating gun pointed directly at him. The cool metal barely grazed his deathly pale flesh. He rested his forehead against the barrel of the gun and raised his hands up playfully, grinning.

“Don’t hurt me,” he joked, “I’ll be your friend.”

You held your gaze, never tearing your eyes away from the gun letting it continue to float as your mind willed it to do. The Joker hummed, his voice deepening as his smile and joking behavior disappeared.

“Do it. Do it, do it, do it, do it, do it.”

“My heart scares you,” you gritted, “but a gun doesn’t?”

“Do it!”

But you couldn’t and he knew you couldn’t. So within a mere second, he snatched his gun out of the air and your mind stopped buzzing. A headache growing from the overuse of your ability. You were mentally exhausted and the Joker could only laugh, pushing his own gun against the side of his head.

“God, if you weren’t so crazy, I’d think you were insane.”

He was glaring at you now, his expression dark and uncalculating. A few tears slipped off of your face and dropped onto the ground as you stared at the man you told yourself you loved. Even now.

“Go. Away.” He said.

He left you standing there, getting back in his Lamborghini and driving off. You choked back a few sobs, using the back of your hand to wipe away your tears before walking in the opposite direction he had driven off in. What you didn’t see was the Joker watching you through his rear view mirror. Even though he kept trying to deny it, you were interesting and the more interesting he thought you were, the more captivated he felt by your presence. He knew you loved him but he wasn’t sure how he felt about you. He took his eyes off of you for a split second and when he tried to look at you again, you were gone. It was almost like you had never been there, at least that’s what he would have thought had the dead trucker not been laying in the road still.

Grumbling to himself and slamming his hands against the steering wheel, the Joker pulled a sharp u-turn, the tires screeching against the cement road. Hitting the gas pedal as hard as he could, the Joker sped off to find you, wondering why he couldn’t keep you out of his own thoughts.

He found you not too far away from where the two of you had conversed. You had your arms wrapped around your body as you walked, sulking harder with each step. Quickly, almost harshly, the Joker yanked his car in front of you causing you to stop walking. Your eyes widened as he climbed out of the driver's seat and made his way to the passenger’s seat. Quirking an eyebrow upwards, you watched as he opened the door and looked at you.

“Well,” he muttered when you didn’t move, “get in.”

It was a small gesture, even after your conversation with him just a second ago, but you still smiled hard and hopped into the passenger’s side. He closed the door behind you, got back in his own seat, and sped off, not telling you where the two of you were headed.

You weren’t expecting to be taken to a chemical plant. The words “Ace Chemicals'” faded into the building walls telling you this place had been out of use for some time. It smelled too and you had to hold your breath until you could stomach whatever that stench was.

The Joker watched you intently as your eyes wandered taking in everything it passed. He was fascinated by how curious your little head could be but he wasn’t going to tell you that.

Finally the two of you reached a room that was layered with nine vats of chemicals at the bottom. The Joker and you were standing on top of the black, metal that held you above the acid. The metal was slick with water from whatever but really it was as safe as could be. You followed the Joker to the edge before peering down at the vats of chemicals that covered the floor. They were bubbly and made weird hissing noises making you wonder if they were incredibly hot.

“Question,” the Joker started causing you to look away from the chemicals and up at him, “would you die for me?”

“Yes.”

You didn’t even hesitate with your answer.

“That’s too easy,” he muttered, “would you…would you live for me?”

The question meant something so different than his first. Life was cruel and there were so many things to hate about life, dying was easy because there was no suffering. So in a sense, he was asking you if you’d suffer for him. Which you would.

“Hmm?”

“Yes.”

“Careful,” he whispered, “do not say this oath thoughtlessly.”

He brought his tattooed hand up to your face, his fingers grazing your cheeks causing you to shiver. His touch had you so intoxicated that it felt like you were drunk from a whole day's worth of drinking.

“Desire becomes surrender, surrender becomes…power.”

His fingers traced over your face, slowly sliding down the sides of your cheeks barely gripping your chin until he rested his finger against your lips. His eyes flickered hungrily at your mouth and you desperately wanted to close the gap between the two of you.

“You want this?”

Again, you didn’t hesitate. “I do.”

He tilted his head back, keeping his hand on you.

“Say it,” he rasped, “say it. Say it. Pretty, pretty, pretty…”

His voice got softer until it faded and you felt your heart throb with both love and lust.

“Please,” you whimpered.

“God,” he chirped, “you’re so…good.”

He gestured to the edge of where you two were standing. You walked over to it and peered down at the vats of chemicals again. Your logic was screaming at you to change your mind but you couldn’t afford to listen to it. You were almost there, he was almost yours entirely. All you had to do was fall into the chemical and he’d have you. You turned to face the Joker, his eyes watching you intently. You extended your arms before falling backwards letting gravity carry you. The cool air felt nice against your skin as you plummeted; your eyes fluttered close as you thought about all of the things that you were about to experience. While most people would be terrified if they were in this current situation, you found peace with it.

The Joker peered over the edge and watched your body splash into the dangerous liquid. He had finally done it. He’d gotten rid of you. He turned on his heel and headed towards the exit. However he wasn’t able to make it past a few steps as he remembered all of the kind things you had done for him throughout his time of knowing you. Using your telekinesis, you had given him a small amount of freedom from the straight jacket he’d been chained up in for months. You didn’t snap at him or say anything to him out of anger like most the doctors did, you seemed to actually care for him. Even after he tricked you into giving him the machine gun and using the electroshock therapy on you, you still wanted him. And for some reason that filled the Joker with a sense of guilt that he didn’t even think he could feel. With a low growl, the Joker removed his leather jacket hurriedly and went back to the ledge where he jumped in after you.

He reached forward and took hold of your sinking body, pulling you tightly against his body. You fit perfectly against his muscular frame. The two of you floated back to the top, the Joker’s lips on yours filling your lungs with life. You let out a soft gasp as he pulled away, your eyes staring into his as you searched for a trick but you couldn’t find one. He leaned down again, your fingers finding their way to the back of his head, and the two of you kissed.

After only seconds, the Joker pulled away, keeping you wrapped in his arms, and started laughing. The color from your clothes mixing with his. You smiled, pulling yourself closer to him. He was yours, and you were his. Forever.

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badass-queer-couples-battle · 6 months

Text

Gay wrongs tournament, round 2.5 of the major bracket

Propaganda:

For Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy:

Best murder wives

They have both canonically committed crimes and murder individually and also together. They are a gay power couple :) who commit crimes.

Supervillains in love.

Both are respected criminals of their own making: eco-terrorist and out for revenge on mankind and rescue of plant life & psychiatrist turned murderous harlequin for her patient (a psychotic gay clown who has a thing for bats) and proceeding to dump him with style and fireworks and reinventing herself from scratch on the fly

They just love each other so much and will just do immoral and illegal things for and with each other, like Poison Ivy will straight up eat a rich guy and Harley's a proud girlfriend and yeah.

For Joe and Nicky:

Immortal mercenaries they first met when fighting on opposite sides of the crusades. They killed eachother many times but came to understand eachother as the years passed. Eventually they fell in love and have been inseparable since. They live, love, fight and die together and have done so for hundreds and hundreds of years.

That is your pfp, dear pollrunner, and yet they don't have an automatic submission??? For shame! :D :D :D [Mod note: Honestly they should have :D They're no longer the pfp, though]

They definitely commit crimes, including murder. Their goodness or badness "depends on the century." There is an exchange in the comics about what crime they'll commit that night (they end up dancing gayly in a place where that's illegal but that wasn't the crime they originally planned on)

#the old guard #dc #harley quinn the animated series #harlivy #joenicky #harley quinn #poison ivy #nicolo di genova #yusuf al kaysani #tog #gay wrongs tournament round 2

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samantha-rae-velcher · 1 year

Text

Pretty

Joker x Fem reader

Requested by: anon

Warnings: swearing, threats, violence, joker being joker.

A/n: if you don't like the warnings, please don't read

Request: Can I request a Leto!Joker where the reader is Harley’s younger sister (she is telekinetic) and she is a pyschiatrist and she secretly loves J. One day the reader is in one of J’s sessions with Harley but J keeps looking at the reader until J breaks out and does everything that he did to Harley to the reader. J and the reader go to Ace Chemicals to make their relationship offical (you can add the rest) thank u :)

___

Joker sat across from the sisters in a straitjacket. Y/n felt a chill roll down her spine every time he looked her way, but there was something about him that intrigued her. He was handsome, and there was something she saw in his eyes everytime they locked with hers, it wasn't crazy. He knew what he wanted, he knew what he was doing. No amount of therapy was gonna help him, he was perfectly sane. He just wasn't normal, he had a dark side and he chooses to live in his own shadows, behind the mask that is the Joker.

"So who is this?" He asked, nodding towards Y/n.

Harley looked over at her younger sister and smiled.

"Oh, this is my sister, Y/n. She's training to be a psychiatrist, so I thought it would be a great learning experience if she sat in on our session."

The Joker just nodded and kept staring, the session went on and Y/n didn't pay any attention. She at there sketching him on her note pad.

"I'm curious." She said. "Do you feel anger towards anyone here?"

Joker slowly looked over at her. Fuck this man was terrifying, she didn't know how Harley couldn't get up and bolt for the door.

"No."

"Okay, just asking." Y/n went back to sketching the man.

Over the next few weeks Harley and Y/n went back and forth with the sessions, they made a schedule on which one of them would be evaluating him on this day and that day. Harley began noticing changes between the two, y/n had even told him the secret that only the two of them knew about.

"I like your sister." Joker said. "She's innocent."

Harley looked up from her papers, she knew what this man could do to y/n, he could brainwash her and get her to do his bidding. Joker could play the "I was framed! Poor me!" Act to make her feel bad and let him out. Or worse she could fall in love with him.

"Yeah well, she's not coming here anymore."

"Why is that?" He asked.

"I don't want you using her. She's not who you think."

Harley got up to leave, she got to the door and stopped when she heard The joker speak.

"Telekinesis is a new one in Gotham. You think I'd use her to get to her ability?"

Harley felt rage as she flung the door open and stormed out of the room. She wanted a transfer, she was done with this psychotic clown.

Y/n entered Arkham and walked down the hall towards Jokers cell. She ducked behind a filing cabinet when she saw Harley come plowing by.

Y/n had one of the guards unlock his cell and let her in, Joker smiled and leaned against the wall.

"I thought your sister didn't want you near me?"

"Harley doesn't know I'm here."

They sat down, she didn't ask the normal questions. Instead, they had a real conversation.

"I need a machine gun." He said while leaning over the table.

"A machine gun?"

Joker smiled. "You can get it for me can't you?"

"But-"

The Joker stood and came to her side of the table. He gently touched her cheek and leaned in, whispering in her ear. This man made her feel scared, but she wanted more. She was addicted to this man and she didn't know why. Was this love?

"I need a machine gun, Y/n. Can you get it for me?"

"I...yes."

___

Y/n was in her office at Arkham when the gunshots could be heard, the screams rang through the hall as running feet fleeing for the exits came flying passed her door.

Two men busted it down and came at her, she struggled but they had her in a tight grip. The brought her into another room and slammed her down on a table. She felt them strap her down, the room when quiet all but the screams that could be heard outside.

"What do we have here?" Joker yelled.

He walked into the room, he was wearing nothing but pants, shoes, and rubber purple gloves. Joker came closer and aggressively lowered the lamp, blasting her in the eyes with the light.

"What the fuck!?" Y/n pulled at the straps. "I helped you!"

"You helped me?" He asked. "By erasing my mind? No you left me in a black hole of rage and confusion. You and your spiteful bitch sister."

Joker smiled and turned to the table beside him, he began rummaging through items.

"The sister who tried to keep you from me." He moved his head back and forth, cracking his neck. "like she could ever keep us apart."

He picked up two metal things attached to cords. Fear struck Y/n, she started pulling at the straps again, trying to get away.

"What are you planning?" She asked. "You gonna kill me?"

"No, I'm not gonna kill ya, Sweetheart. I'm just gonna hurt ya, really really bad."

"Yeah? You don't know me that well then. Cuz I can take it."

Joker smiled and took off his belt, the sound clanking of the metal going right to her core. He straighted it and had her bite it.

"This is gonna hurt, so I suggest you don't spit this out. We don't want you breaking your teeth now do we?"

J turned in the machine and pressed the metal devices to both sides of her head. Pain shot through her making her bite the belt so hard it hurt her jaw.

All she could hear was the screech if the machine, gun shots ringing through the halls and the joker laughing.

___

Y/n was looking down at the giant barrels of bubbling chemicals. Joker paced back and forth behind her, he gently gripped her hips and turned her to face him.

"Would you die for me?" He asked.

"I-"

"That's too easy....would you...would you live for me?"

Y/n looked him in the eyes as she answered, she wanted him to know she ment it.

"Yes."

"Careful, my dear." Joker circled her. "Don't say this oath thoughtlessly."

He leaned in close, their lips nearly touching.

"Desire becomes surrender, surrender becomes power." He gently places a kiss on her lips. He stayed close. "Are you ready to surrender to your fate? To me?"

She slowly backed up towards the edge, Y/n could see he didn't believe she's do it. He thought she was too weak. Y/n smile and blew him as kiss before letting herself fall over the edge.

Joker watched her sink into the green liquid. He turned and began slowly walking away before he stopped. Joker tilted his head side to side, cracking his neck before he pulled his leather jacket off and jumped over after her.

Y/n felt the air being forced back into her lungs as her eyes shot open, Joker was holding her close and looking at her with hunger in his eyes. He leaned in and closed the gap between them, the kiss was passionate. He pulled away slowly, he smiled and whispered.

"Pretty pretty pretty pretty."

THE END ❤️

I'm gonna make a part 2

#fyp #foryou #fanfic #foryoupage #x reader #requested #jared leto joker #jared leto #joker x fem reader #joker x oc #joker x y/n #joker x reader #joker suicide squad #suicide squad #suicide squad x reader #suicide squad joker

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yandere--stuck · 3 months

Note

if you have any more thoughts on the Joker Junior extending the family take I'd love to hear them!! Would J be interested in having Nightwing with them? Or Alfred? I'm not sure how well either of them would take to the venom, but if they have Batman anything's possible

Less ideas and more of an actual fic, oopsie!

---

Three weeks. Three long, agonizing weeks without Tim. Three weeks of hoping beyond all hope that he was somehow fine. That they'd all look back on this and laugh.

But, no. Eventually, Bruce was able to get word that The Joker and Harley had holed themselves up in the abandoned Arkham Asylum, and something in his gut that made him sick knew there was some correlation.

Part of him hadn't wanted Barbara to come along, but he also knew he wouldn't be able to stop her even if he tried. So, the two of them traversed through the crumbling asylum together and followed the echoing sound of Harley's voice singing a lullaby.

“Hush, little baby, don't say a word,

Mama's gonna buy you a mockingbird,

And if that mockingbird don't sing,

Mama's gonna buy you a diamond ring….”

Closer, closer. It took both of them every bit of will they had not to sprint through the halls as fast as their legs could carry them. As Harley’s voice grew even louder, Barbara split up to find another way in while Bruce took the lead. His heart nearly leapt from his chest with anticipation as he closed in on her location.

“And if that diamond ring is brass,

Mama's gonna buy you a looking glass,

And if that looking glass gets broke-”

The moment Harley saw him burst through the double doors, she perked up, greeting Bruce with a smile. She was cradling a flower vase in her arms, which she set down onto a covered table. Craning her neck, she shouted over her shoulder. “Puddin’, Hubby's home!”

Bruce’s eyes followed Harley’s gaze, spotting Joker on the second floor where he rested on a recliner. With a flourish, The Clown rose to his feet, turning away from his rabbit-eared television set and popping a pipe from his mouth, tossing it aside.

“Well, hello, dear!” Joker strolled down the stairs, stopping just shy of Batman. He wrapped an arm around Harley, the two of them smiling sweetly at their bat. “Welcome home.”

Bruce all but snarled in their faces, leaning close and baring his teeth. “Where's Robin?”

Both clowns shared a quizzical look.

“Robin?” Joker repeated with a quirk of his head. “There's no Robin here!”

“Maybe he means our little J,” Harley offered.

The Clown Prince of Crime snapped his fingers. “Of course! That's it.”

Meeting the Bat's eyes, smiling back at his scowl, Joker gestured to the other side of the room. To whatever was being concealed behind the large blue curtain. And Bruce couldn't help his rage, shoving the couple aside roughly as he moved to cross the room.

The Joker stumbled back, recovering with the shake of his head and click of his tongue. “He must be so stressed out from work.”

“I hate it when he gets like this. He never knows when ta relax,” Harley shook her head and reached underneath the table, pulling out a bazooka from beneath the tablecloth. She fired, and a band of ribbons erupted from the muzzle, knocking Batman to the floor with a hard thud and wrapping him up like a gift - bow and all.

“Good thing he has us. Hmm, now what say we bring this little gift of ours back to the bedroom to unwrap?”

Joker's grin stretched just a little wider as he noticed the movement of Batman's hand - holding it up just so as if to signal someone, just out of eyesight, to stand down. Joker's eyes crinkled. Perfect. He wondered, was it the eldest birdboy? Or maybe they'd be getting two bats with one stone?

“Y'know, Bat's, we've been doing this little run around for years,” Joker spoke again, approaching his prone enemy. “It's been loads of laughs! But the sad fact is - none of us are getting any younger.”

Harley joined his side, patting her stomach. “That ol’ clock's a tickin’!”

“Quite right, Pooh! So, Harley and I were thinking it's about time the three of us finally settled down together.”

“But rather than experiencing the joys of pregnancy, we decided the best way would be to just marry into the family.”

Hand-in-hand, the clowns walked over their Bat's prone form to each rest a hand on the curtain in front of them.

“But no matter how happy we are to join you, we were a bit disappointed that we didn't really have the chance to nurture them, too,” Joker lamented. “And after all, what better way to officially join the family than to impart a little bit of our personalities to the kiddos? He needed a bit of molding, of course, but-”

The couple yanked on each side of the curtain, the blue cloth sliding and billowing out as it parted - revealing a child strapped to a medical examination table.

“... What kid doesn't?” Joker finished with a grin, drinking in the Dark Knight's reaction.

Bruce couldn't help the exhale of ‘no’ that left him. Couldn't even blink, too horrified to look away from what had been done to Tim. The horror set in all at once, like freezing water flooding through every nerve in his system.

Joker brought Tim forward with the click of a button, the table rolling forward and bringing the boy into the light.

Tim...

His face an acid-washed white. His hair an unearthly green. His Robin costume now replaced with an exact recreation of Joker's own suit. And his face… Contorted in a pained smile and his eyes wide and afraid, unblinking.

“Say hello to Dada, JJ,” Joker cooed.

Tim's eyes, seeming to glow red in the light, shifted from Joker to Batman. He leaned further into the light, locking eyes with Bruce, and laughed. He laughed in a way Bruce had never, ever heard before. He unbound himself from the table, leaping to the floor on scrawny legs - God, how much weight had he lost in such a short amount of time. What had they done to his boy?

All at once, the cold shock and dawning horror inside Bruce shifted - and his whole body was alight with rage, like a fire inside threatening to escape through every orifice as he ripped through his bonds. The shout he made was near inhuman, launching a batarang he had cut the ribbons with directly at Joker's head, only for the Clown to dodge it with ease.

Harsh giggles flooded from Joker's throat, wiggling a finger in a ‘come hither’ motion before jumping onto the now vacant medical table, rocketing off with the click of a button, causing Bruce to almost stumble and reorient himself to take off after him - and leaving Barbara to deal with Harley.

—

Giggles bubbled from Tim JJ's throat as he stared unblinkingly down at his father, body crumpled on the floor, cape draped almost protectively over his prone body. And with giddy glee, The Joker Papa J hopped down from the giant building blocks he was perched upon, where he had sliced at Batman and sent him tumbling down only seconds ago.

It was all a blur for Bruce. The chase. The horrific videos of Tim… Tim's torture. Three weeks. Three weeks of that Hell. Electrocution. Beatings. Torment. Starvation. And it was all his fault. He'd failed him. The rage that had filled him nearly completely, made him seen red, had all been snuffed out.

First Jason. Now Tim. And Bruce still couldn't bring him to end this. His vision swam, and he could barely even focus. Not on Tim. Not on the man who tortured him. But… Wait. Where was-?

With a final hop, Joker landed in front of Batman in a crouch, hovering over him with a sly grin.

“You've lost, Bruce,” He rasped, and just hearing the name on the clown's lips made JJ seize up, his forever-smile momentarily twitching and a flood of nervous giggles escaping him. The clown continued, voice low. “Robin is mine… And now, so are you.”

And with a hearty heft, Joker lifted Bruce up by the scruff of his cowl and cape, as if presenting him. The grin of his face, the look in his eyes, as he looked down on his enemy. So proud of himself, so smug.

And Bruce. He looked in a daze, lost and beaten. Blood dripped from his lips.

This isn't what Papa promised. He said everything would be okay now. That he'd see Dad and Dick and Babs and Alfred again and he wouldn't be mean or hurt him again, because Papa knew he would be good now…

But when Joker met his eyes, something in them changed - his smile warping to somehow become comforting, happier. The darkness in his eyes dissipated, replaced with an excited shine. And with a free hand, The Clown grabbed for a large gun that looked more like a toy than anything.

“Here ya go, sonny-boy!” He said, tossing the weapon.

JJ scrambled forward to catch it. He couldn't help but notice how light the gun felt as he cradled it in his shaking, gloved hands. For a moment, he couldn't look away.

“Make him one of us,” The Joker urged, voice like a hiss.

It wasn't a conscious decision to aim the gun. It just happened. Like one minute, JJ was there and gone and back again. His hands shook so hard that he could hardly keep the weapon straight. Could barely even look at him. At the mask. At the man behind it.

“Tim…” Batman breathed. JJ had never heard his voice sound so small.

JJ would swear he couldn't breathe if it weren't for the rapid rise and fall of his chest and the wheezing, giggling exhales that escaped him as he struggled to calm down. Tears threatened to pool from his eyes.

This wasn't right. But, Papa knows best. He said everything would be okay afterward. He said he wouldn't be punished again. But, he couldn't. But, he couldn't run, either - too scared. Too weak. He wanted to be home. He wanted his family. He wanted to stop crying, to be able to breathe, to run into his fathers’ arms-

“It's alright now, JJ,” The Joker soothed, recapturing the boy's attention. “Just pull the trigger, and everything will be okay.”

JJ wanted his Papa to be telling the truth. He just wanted everything to be okay. He just wanted it all to stop. Bruce, please forgive him.

His finger squeezed around the trigger-

Joker's laugh filled the room, just as a green mist began flooding from the gun’s opening. It spread through the air and quickly covered both men. Joker laughed long and loud as he clung to Batman. He pulled his Bat into an embrace, a smile so bright and wide it made the corners of his mouth rip, as Bruce began to choke and hack.

The man seized up and shook in Joker's arms. Slow at first, but soon trembling and writhing in agony, barely restrained and pained chuckles escaping him. So much hurt flooding through every nerve and system that almost faculties left him. His lungs burned, his face ached, he couldn't feel his extremities and wouldn't have been able to hold himself up without Joker's hold on him. Bruce wasn't sure if he could speak or even breathe anymore, but somehow his body found it in itself to betray him, forcing laughter from gritted teeth.

Joker took a knee, gently laying Batman to the ground. The bat spasmed and jerked. Tears began to fall from behind his mask, shining on his cheeks in the light. Gloved hands caressed the sides of Bruce's face. Green eyes glinted in the light as they watched each movement of the other man - every sputter, every gasp, every choked out laugh, every pained, slowly blooming smile that wobbled onto his face.

“You must be so scared, aren't you, sweetheart?” Joker cooed. “You've been scared this whole time, haven't you? Ever since that night in the alleyway...”

Batman didn't reply - couldn't. His eyes crinkled as his smile grew involuntarily. All he could do was return the man's gaze with a manic smile that wasn't his own.

Joker stroked the top of his cowl lovingly. “But it's okay now, Bruce. You don't have to be scared anymore. You don't have to be strong. Don't have to hold yourself back. Me and Harl will build you back up to what you were meant to be. We'll be brave for you now. And do you know why?”

Bruce couldn't respond. For one, the agony of whatever this was, whatever Joker had planned for him, blotted out almost all thoughts in his mind completely. Could only tremble and writhe and cry and laugh. Laugh. Laugh. The laughing made it hurt just a little less. But he could still barely even register what the other man was saying. What he could register, though, was the image of Joker slowly leaning down to press his lips to Bruce's cloaked forehead.

“Because we love you.” Joker finished.

—

“Ohhhh, Harley!” Joker's voice rang through the cavernous halls of the abandoned asylum. “Barbie's turn!”

Barbara's stomach sunk to her feet and her heart skipped a beat. Barbie? No. No, there was no way, he could have known her name. Oh God, what happened to Bruce-?

In the middle of her ruminations, Harley caught her by surprise. A jab to the face, the pull of her leg to trip her up leaving her scrambling to correct her fall- only for her to feel hand grasp tightly at the nape of her neck, coiling painfully at the root of her hair. She was shoved onto her stomach, face-to-face with the dirty, cracked tiles of the former asylum’s floor.

“You know what that means! C'mon, Barbie,” Harley grunted, fingers twisting in the roots of her hair. She lunged forward, slamming her face to the floor with a sick crunch. “Let's go party!”

And everything went dark.

… Barbara awoke with a groan. The smell of pennies flooded her nostrils. Her vision was bleary and swam as she struggled to open her eyes.

A dark figure entered her vision from her periphery, and it loomed over a figure clad in purple. And for a moment, just one moment, she allowed herself to hope.

But, that hope crumbled just as quickly as Joker's voice entered her ears.

“You're okay, Bruce, you're okay, sweetie. You're gonna play nice now, right?”

Barbara couldn't help but shudder at the sound of Bruce's laugh in reply.

Hands found their way to Barbara's hair again, this time much softer. Not grabbing, just brushing and stroking almost soothingly.

“Wakey, wakey, eggs ‘n bakey,” Harley sang as she carded her hands through the younger woman's hair. “Y'know, I've always wanted a daughter. A little girl of my own. You think you'd ever want Mama to braid your hair for you? It's so pretty!”

“Ah, welcome back to the land of the living, Barbie,” Joker greeted. “Your Dad and I were just talking about you. A real chip off the ol’ block. Now all we need is to make it official.”

Barbara watched as Tim approached Bruce, pushing a gun of some kind into his hands. The Batman held it in his hands, smiling down at the weapon - but seemed almost hesitant. Unsure. Like he knew this was wrong. Like the weapon would somehow come alive and bite him.

“Batman, listen to me,” Batgirl pleaded. “Don't do this. Whatever they've done to you, this isn't you.”

“Oh, but it is! And soon it'll be you, too,” Harley corrected, walking back to give herself some distance.

“I know you're torn, Batsy, but I promise this is for the best,” Joker rubbed circles into the other man's back. “We'll all finally be together. Once we get Barbie here, then we'll get Dick and Al. And we'll be a family! They'll never be hurt again. You'll never be hurt again, sweetheart. I won't let anything bad happen anymore. You'll get your happily ever after. You won't be afraid ever again, I promise.”

Tears stung at Barbara's cheeks as she begged. “Batman, please!”

And for a moment, she thought she somehow got through to him. They locked eyes and Bruce smiled at her with a smile that isn't his own. But, she thought she could see understanding or recognition or something in his eyes, and was sure he'd toss the gun away and start kicking Joker's ass.

But, she was wrong.

With a hiss, green toxin flooded all around her. Even over her screams, the sounds of Joker, Tim, Harley, and Bruce's laughter smothered her completely. And soon after, so did her own.

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madlittlecriminal · 10 months

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Hey! I saw you were writing for Dick Grayson and I am a huge simp. 😭 I was wondering if you would write a fic where the reader is pregnant and stuff and ducks brothers want a boy but it ends up being a girl during the gender reveal. Just overall chaotic batfam :) thank you so so much

Baby Grayson ⥇ Dick Grayson × Pregnant!Female!Reader

trust me, im a simp for this man too. i have two McFarlene Toys of him and I love it lol. i hope you enjoy!

Warnings: batboys banter, i made harley be with Ivy sue me, selina and bruce are also a thing

Pregnancy was difficult, but thanks to your boyfriend and his brothers, it was a bit easier. However, they were a handful sometimes, especially when arguing about the gender of your baby.

"I have my bet on the little one being a boy!" Tim said with a grin on his face. "Well, Bruce does have some luck with boy, doesn't he?" You asked, causing the four boys to roll their eyes. "First of all, I'm the only one who is actually related to him by blood. The rest of them are not." Damian crossed his arms, and you chuckle at the young Wayne. "Relax, Damian. Plus, don't you already know the gender?" Dick raised a brow at his little brother, and he shook his head. "I gave the paper to dad since I knew Tim would try to get it out of me and well, Jason is sneaky, so he would've found the paper if he really wanted to know the gender."

Jason shrugged. "Probably a wise decision. Now that I know though, I might sneak around Bruce's room to find it." You shake your head. "Jason, you know he's smart. He probably gave it to Alfred or Selina." Jason groaned at your words, knowing you had a point. Dick snorted. "I wouldn't put it past him if he gave it to Harley. After her and that clown broke up and she's gotten with Ivy, she's nicer, but still bad."

"Master Bruce gave me the slip, gentlemen. However, he has instructed me to not say a word until he and Selina arrive from their outing." Damian rolled his eyes. "Why do we always have to wait? We've been waiting since we found out (Y/N) was pregnant and then we had to wait two more weeks because they're always away!"

"That could've been avoided if you didn't give me the sheet of paper, Damian." Bruce entered the living room with Selina by his side. "You feeling okay, (Y/N)?" You nodded. "Thanks Bruce. If anything, I'll send Dick to get me what I need." Jason snorted. "Walk him like a dog, (Y/N)!" All of you laughed and Bruce shook his head. "Well, since Selina, Alfred and I know the gender, I want to know what you all think?"

"Boy," the boys said in unison and you gasp at Dick. "Really?" He chuckled. "Yeah! Even if our baby isn't a boy, I'll love them anyway." You rolled your eyes. "Well, I don't care. As long as they're healthy, that's the only thing that matters to me." Bruce gives you a small smile. "That's good. Anyway, the boys are wrong. It's a girl." The boys' jaws dropped, and you smiled so hard, your cheeks began to hurt. "Congratulations Dick and (Y/N)! Dick, if you're going to teach her acrobatics, let her decide if she wants to be in this life, okay?" He nods. "You got my word, grandpa!" He chuckled. "Yeah, but this grandpa still got it, don't you think, Sel?" She giggled and nodded. "You got that right, babe." She winked at him and the boys gagged. "Oh grow up! Especially you Dick, you're literally going to be a father! I don't want to hear it from you!"

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson x you #dick grayson #nightwing x reader #nightwing x y/n #nightwing #nightwing x you #dc universe #dceu #dcau #asks #ask #anonymous asks #anon asks #anonymous #anon ask

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haveihitanerve · 3 months

Text

Dad

His mouth tasted like ash. His nostrils burned with the smell of gun powder and his eyes felt caked in mud. “Dad!” There was a voice to his left, a voice he knew. His eyes slowly adjusted and he tried looking around, but could barely move. What he did see made him frown. This wasn’t the park. The boys had been unable to come to an agreement on what to eat, so Bruce had taken them out to the park to grab food from whatever food trucks were around while Selina stayed back with the girls. It had been peaceful and while the boys had fought occasionally Bruce had felt whole. And then it had all gone wrong. They were in a large warehouse, by the looks of it, and the only source of light at the moment was the wide open doors on the other side of the room. “Chum?” He rasped. By the sounds of relief made around him he could tell all his sons had awoken before him. His eyes adjusted to the faint light and he tried to move his arms but they were wrapped in a rope and tied above his head. Dick, Jason, Tim and Damian were all lined up in a row in front of him, hands tied behind their backs. “Dad!” Dick called again. Blood began pounding in Bruce’s ears. They weren’t in costume. He wasn’t Batman with his sidekicks and allies. He was Bruce Wayne with his sons. Tires screeched and a van appeared in the open warehouse door. “Well well well. What do we have here?” A high pitched voice came. Bruce could feel his face drain of color. Jason was staring at the floor, mouthing words desperately, squeezing his eyes tight. Jason, who had never gone to church, who didn’t believe in god or anything else that he couldn’t see. Was praying. Bruce looked at Tim. His third oldest son was staring straight ahead, not moving a muscle. Bruce swallowed hard. He was dimly aware of goons surrounding them, but that was nothing as the Joker stepped through the doors. He couldn’t know. He couldn’t. But why else had he kidnapped Bruce Wayne and his sons? “You’ve been quite the pain in my ass lately Brucie.” The clown said, stalking forward, a pistol held loosely in his hand. Bruce glared at him. “What do you want Joker?” He snarled. Joker laughed and Tim flinched. Dick reached his tied hands for his younger brothers and they linked fingers. Damian shuffled, pressing his thigh against Jason’s. There was fear, pure, plain fear written across all of their faces. Except Damian and dicks were more afraid for their brothers than themselves. “You’ve stopped quite a few of my plans with your donations and goody two shoe acts,” the joker drawled. “And I thought, what better way to get back at the orphan adopting billionaire than to kill one of his poor orphans!” The joker let out a loud cackle. Harley had gotten out of the van as well and stared at him in shock. “Kill the kids puddin?” She asked. Joker turned to her. “Why yes of course. He can just replace them, the way he has before.” Jason and Tim turned green. Harley bit her lip. Joker started to walk behind the four boys. “But the question is who? Who who who WHO?”

He cackled again. “The heir?” His gun knocked against dicks skull. His oldest son winced but didn’t give anymore of a reaction. Despite the circumstances Bruce felt a sense of pride welling up in him. “The prodigy?” Joker went on, tapping Tim’s head with the butt of the gun. Tim was frozen. “The blood son?” Joker asked, twirling his gun around Damian’s head. “Or the forgiven son?” He pressed the gun against the back of Jason’s head. His son was trembling, eyes closed and lips pressed tightly together. Something seemed to flicker over his second oldest son's face and when he looked up, pure determination and resignation was in his face. “No!” Bruce pulled at his ropes. Joker let out another laugh. Jason bit his lips, eyes tight. “No!” Damian whimpered, tugging at his ropes. Bruce looked at Harley. She was watching the whole thing, biting her lip. “Please.” He begged. Joker laughed again, believing the plea had been aimed at him. Harley’s eyes snapped to him. “Please.” He begged her. She looked away. Dick met her eye. His lips moved and Bruce could hardly breathe. “Please Auntie.” He had mouthed. Harley’s face flickered with something and she looked back at Bruce. Firm resolve spread across her features. Casually, she started to walk towards him, taking a place behind him. The goons immediately spread away. Before he could register the cool knife that pressed against his arms, cutting the rope, Joker turned his attention back to him. Harley froze, but kept cutting, sending Joker what Bruce figured was a flirty smile. “But then I thought, why not inflict real pain? I’m sure you pretty spoiled boy have never felt that. So-!” He aimed the gun at Bruce’s leg. “Noo!” To Bruce’s surprise, the shout came from Harley. But it was too late, the joker had pulled the trigger. Bruce braced himself, waiting for the pain as the bullet shredded through his thigh, through muscles and veins and tendons, but it never came.

He looked down. Harley was laying in front of him, a hole in her side. She had doven in front of the bullet for him. She had taken a bullet for him. “You useless bitch!” Joker snarled, reloading his pistol. Harley let out a whimper of pain, scooting backwards. “Stupid useless cow!” He muttered, cocking the gun. “Since you’ve ruined my fun with Brucey I have to now move fast.” He glared at her, before turning and aiming the gun at Damian. The crack as he pulled the trigger reverberated deep in Bruce’s bones. But it was nothing compared to the ice cold feeling that squeezed his heart as Damian closed his eyes in resignation and Jason dove in front of his little brother. Jason hit the dirt like a sack of potatoes, blood pouring out of his chest. A scream, horrible and bone chilling and agonizing, filled the warehouse. It wasn’t until a rag was stuffed into his mouth that Bruce realized it had come from him. Joker stared at Jason a moment, then shrugged. “Oh well. At least one son is dead.” He smiled at Bruce. “Toodaloo!” He called and started to laugh, hopping into the truck and driving away. Bruce spat out the rag and pulled. Dick was working the rope with his mouth, ready to free them all but bruce moved first, pulling. The already frayed ropes gave easily under his strength and he ripped free. Dick looked at him with wide eyes and quickly bit through his own, moving to Jason. Damian hadn’t moved. He was just stuck, staring at his older brother. “Harley-!” Bruce began, turning to his old friend, but she shook her head. “Help him.” She pleaded. Bruce nodded, rushing to his son's side.

“Cal!!!!” He bellowed, skidding over the gravel on his knees as he reached Jason and Damian. “Cal!!!!” He didn’t care if Gotham heard him. He didn’t care if the world heard him. Jason was so pale. “Come on. Come on.” Bruce muttered, reaching for his pulse. It fluttered against his hand, faint, but there. “Cal!!!” Bruce bellowed again. There was a whoosh and Superman arrived. His face paled at the scene. “Take him to the hospital! Now!!” He barked. “Get Leslie!” Clark nodded and, gently, as though picking up a newborn, lifted Jason into his arms and took off. Bruce speed dialed his number on impulse. “Barry please!” In seconds the speedster had arrived. “Take Harley to the Batcave. Alfred will heal her.” The flash nodded, eyes darting around in concern, but willing to wait until things were less dire to ask, and lifted her effortlessly, speeding off. Bruce wrapped his arms around Dick and Tim, pulling them closer. Damian was just sitting there, blood covering his hands, staring at the pool of blood Jason had left behind. “Damian. Baby. Come here.” Bruce pleaded. But Damian didn’t hear him. Clark returned a second later. “Take Damian next!” Bruce told him. Clark looked at them all, then nodded. Damian didn’t even react as he was lifted and flown off. Flash arrived again. “I can take you all to the hospital.” He said softly. Bruce nodded, lifting Tim into his arms. “Take Dick.” “Dad-!” Dick protested softly. “No. This is not an argument. I’ll be there in a bit chum. Please.” Dick nodded and allowed Barry to lift him. Clark returned and lifted them both, flying to the hospital.

“Where is my son!” Bruce asked the second he touched down. “Where are my kids?” “Bruce!” Bruce frowned, turning to the door. Selina Wayne had arrived. “Baby.” He whispered. She rushed to him, the girls and Duke following a second after. “Hey. How’re you here?” “Cal told us.” She said softly. “Where is he?” Bruce shrugged, helplessness filling him again. “Hey. It’s alright.” Selina cupped his face with her hands. “It was Joker.” Bruce whispered. Selina brushed her thumbs under his eyes. “He came for me. For them. It wasn’t even because of the mask. Just because I was Bruce Wayne. Because I had donated and-!” His breathing was getting labored and he was rambling so Selina reached up and gently kissed him. “Hey. It’s okay.” She whispered softly. “Mr and Mrs Wayne?” A doctor came out. “Your sons are ready to see you.” She eyed Tim, passed out in Bruce’s arms. “Does he need to be checked?” She asked softly. Bruce nodded. She tilted her head to the hallway and they followed. Another nurse came out of a room and Bruce allowed tim to be taken away and checked for injuries. “They’re in there.” The nurse said, nodding at the next room. “And Jason? The one who was shot? Where is my son?”

Cass, Steph, Duke and Babs paled. Selina pressed a hand to her mouth. Clark clearly hadn’t given them all the information. The nurse hesitated. “We have him in critical condition. Dr. Leslie is working on him right now.” She hesitated, looking around. “Mr. Wayne,” she lowered her voice. “I don’t know what connections you have with Superman but whatever they are, they saved your sons life. It’s not clear yet if he will live but we’re more hopeful. Your alien friend scanned him and gave us some medical information which allowed us to start operating right away instead of having to scan him. It may be the thing that makes a difference.” Bruce nodded, swallowing. “Thank you.” She smiled, taking a few steps back. “I think he deserves the thanks. They’re right in there.” And she turned and left. Bruce pushed open the door and rushed to his sons. Dick was sitting on a chair, Damian cradled in his lap, still staring at nothing. They had both been cleaned of blood but Bruce knew they still felt the phantom touch of it. “Hey kiddos. You alright?” Dick looked over and his face immediately relaxed. “Mom!” Selina rushed to them. “Oh kitten.” She murmured, pulling both against her for a hug. The hug seemed to awaken damian slightly and he clutched at her shirt, burying his head in her shoulder. “Oh baby.” Selina whispered, cradling him close. The door creaked open and Bruce turned, smiling in relief when Tim walked in, also in new clothes and cleaned. “Tim!” Steph rushed to him and he managed a faint smile, linking his fingers with hers. Selina stood, taking damian with her and so Babs walked over to Dick and took his place, murmuring softly to him. He just nodded, wrapping his arms around her and burying his head in the crook of her neck. Cass touched Damian’s back gently and the tears started flowing. Selina smiled sadly and handed her youngest over to her daughter, allowing Cass to comfort him. She walked over to Bruce and took his hand. “Jason?” She whispered.

At his name all the kids looked over. Bruce sighed. “They caught us at the park and tied us up. Joker arrived. Said that I had ruined some of his plans by donating and such. So he said,” Bruce swallowed. “He said he’d take one of my sons from me. Because I would just replace them anyway.” Steph inhaled sharply and wrapped an arm around Tim. He relaxed against her. Bruce swallowed. “Harley tried to cut through my ropes and.” He stopped. “She took a bullet for me.” Selina squeezed his hand. “She should be alright. I sent her to Alfred with Barry.” Selina nodded. “Then he aimed it at damian-“ Bruce cut off, blinking hard. Damian buried his face deeper against Cass and she rubbed his back soothingly. “But Jason jumped between them.” Selina took a shuddering breath. Damian let out a sob. “Hey. Prince.” Bruce crossed over to his son and lifted him into his arms. “It is not your fault. Okay? Jason chose to jump in front of you. He chose to protect you. It’s not your fault. It’s jokers. Alright?” Damian sniffled, but nodded. Bruce kissed his nose. “Good.” “Bruce?” Leslie appeared in the doorway. “He’s stable. You may go in but be careful. He’s not awake yet.” “Will he make it?” Bruce asked, handing Damian to Selina. Leslie smiled. “Yes. We are very hopeful.” Bruce breathed a sigh of relief. They followed Leslie over to the room Jason was staying in and filed in, but Bruce paused. “Bruce!” Clark came hurrying towards him, wearing regular Clark Kent clothes. Bruce wrapped his arms around him. Clark blinked in surprise, then hugged him back. “What’s wrong?” He murmured, squeezing him. “Shit sorry I know what’s wrong.” “Thank you.” Bruce whispered. Clark frowned against his shoulder. “The doctors said that you gave them information that they needed so that they could immediately start operating. He wouldn’t be alive without you. Thank you.” Clark smiled, running a hand through Bruce’s hair. “Always.” Bruce pulled away and smiled too. “You messed up my hair Journo. That’s off your salary.” Clark rolled his eyes, reaching for Bruce’s head again. The man dodged him, walking to the door. “Come on. Leslie said we could talk to him.” Clark followed him into the hospital room, slipping his hat off of his head.

Bruces heart clenched at the sight that greeted them. Jason was lying in the white plastic hospital sheets, face almost as pale. Tubes were stuck in his arms and his eyes were closed. But he was breathing, and according to the heart monitor, his heartbeat was steady. Dick was seated on a chair on the left side of his bed, holding his left hand, while Selina sat perched on the right, holding Damian with one arm as Tim leaned against her side. Babs, Steph, and Duke sat at the foot of his bed, staring lost at his face. Cass was seated on the windowsill, looking out. Clark politely moved over to her side, offering his silent presence but nothing more. Bruce moved to Selina’s side, tugging Tim to lean against him. “He’ll be alright.” He murmured, more to reassure himself than anyone else, but it worked. Tim released a quiet sigh of relief, and the others even managed faint smiles. Dick just clung to Jason's hand. Bruce didn't know how long they all stood there, staring at him, but after a while Selina started herding the kids to the empty bed on the other side of the room and Clark left and returned with blankets and some better than hospital food, along with an update that Harley was recovering, and soon six of the kids were tucked into bed together. Bruce didn't know how many of them were actually asleep, but all of them had their eyes closed, and were curled together so cutely that had it been under any other circumstances he would have cooed. Dick still sat at Jason's side, holding his hand, and Cass had moved to his side, also refusing to try and sleep. “Im going to go check on Harley.” Clark murmured to Bruce. “Holler if you need anything yeah?” Bruce nodded, pulling his friend in for another quick hug. “Thank you. Tell barry thanks as well from me.” Clark nodded. “I will.”

Selina wrapped her arms around his waist and Bruce sank into one of the uncomfortable hospital chairs, letting her rest her head against his shoulder as he stared at his son. Despite his attempts, Dicks eyelids started to drop, and soon he and Cass were snuggled up together on their chairs, snoring softly. Selina smiled and stood, lifting them and carrying them over to the bed to sleep, tucking them in gently. “He could've died Lina.” Bruce whispered. She came to his side, brushing a strand of hair behind his ear. “But he didn't.” “we weren't in the suits.” Bruce croaked, voice hoarse. His eyes blurred with tears. He hadn't allowed himself to cry this whole time, knowing he had to be strong for his kids. To be their rock. But now, with just him and Selina. Selina gently wiped the tears away, sitting on his lap. “Its okay.” she whispered. “He’s going to be okay. We’re all going to be okay.” She murmured, kissing the top of his head. Bruce buried his face in her neck, wrapping his arms around her tightly. “Dad?” someone croaked. Bruce shot off his chair and reached for his son. Jason's eyelids were fluttering open slowly, and he squinted. “Hey. Hey buddy.” Bruce whispered, taking his hand. Selina took a seat next to him, stroking jason's hair. “How're you feeling kitten?” she asked. Jason frowned. “Like i've been shot.” he supplied helpfully. Bruce managed a faint laugh. “Oh bud you scared me so bad.” He scooted closer, wrapping a careful arm around his son to pull him closer, pressing a kiss to his head. “I know.” Jason whispered. “Im sorry. But he was gonna kill Dami. i- i couldn't let him kill Dami. Or tim. I was so awful to them. I couldn't let him-” “you're an ass and a damned idiot.” tim choked out, appearing at the foot of the bed. Damian stood at his side, clutching his hand. “Nice to see you too Replacements.” Jason greeted, smirking. “Fuck you.” Damian squeezed out. “Prince!” Bruce chided. “Language.” Selina laughed, lifting him onto the bed. Jason opened his arms and both boys crawled over, cuddling against their older brother. “Im okay you mother hens.” he muttered, laughing. “Ol’ Joker cant kill me twice.” The boys managed a laugh at that, and the other kids woke. “Jason!” Jason grinned as dick threw himself at him, barely holding back from squeezing him because of his injuries. “Hey dickwad. Im alright. Promise.” “You scared us Tampon.” Steph said, punching his shoulder lightly. “I know.” Jason said quietly. “Im sorry.” “forgiven.” Cass signed. “Just don't do it ever again.” Duke added. “Or ill leak all of your search history.” Babs warned, leaning over his head. Jason laughed. “Understood. No dying again. Got it.” “that goes for all of you.” Bruce grunted. “No more dying on my watch okay? I cant handle any more gray hairs.” Dick laughed. “You drive a hard bargain old man. But okay.” “i guess we’ll just have to find new ways to give you gray hairs then.” Tim said with a grin. Bruce laughed, pressing another kiss to Jason's head. “Thats fine by me kiddos. Just no- no more dying okay?” The kids all nodded, cuddling closer to Jason and their father. “Promise.”

#batfam #bruce wayne #good dad bruce wayne #let bruce be a good dad dc damnit!!!#this is my attempt at writing a proper bruce reacting to his kid almost dying #and obvi i had to throw in some batcat #selina kyle #batkids #batman

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