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obsessivelycapricious · 3 years

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Birds of a feather, stuck together. Jason Todd x Fem!Reader. Part 3.

A/N: This is the largest chapter so far, sitting at the 2.2k word mark. Some of the more sinister warnings come into play in this chapter, mainly because the Joker makes a heavy appearance. Thanks to those of you who have left me some lovely feedback, it's doing wonders for my motivation to keep going with this idea. I go back to work next week, so future updates might be a little slower. I hope you enjoy!

Tags/warnings: 18+ because of explicit violence, rape, torture, canon typical Gotham shenanigans, use of gas and toxins, gaslighting, manipulation, Stockholm syndrome, enemies to friends to lovers, unreliable narrator, the burn is super slow, not Batman friendly, alternating 2nd person POV, Alfred Pennyworth is the best human in Gotham.

Previous parts

It was predictable; Mostly because that’s what you did when you were first thrown in here too.

Joker would be expecting it of course. He wouldn’t make it out.

After the Robin had disappeared from view, you heard a long series of grunts and groans, a snap of bone or two amongst all the yelling. It occurred to you to look, but you decided instead to stay rooted to the floor, the open door making you feel nervous. Joker wasn’t going to be happy about this.

Eventually the noises subsided, either carrying further into the compound or stopping altogether, you weren’t sure.

It was a little while after that that the footsteps came up the corridor again, Big Paulie sporting a pretty dark black eye, his nose broken. He didn’t need to tell you; you knew you were being summoned.

You walk without complaint along the hallway, feet padding against the cold stone, a step ahead of Big Paulie. If you were to guess, and you shouldn’t because time passed funny in a place like this, it had been a couple of hours since the Robin had first charged out of the door of your cell. A lot could have happened in that time.

Through a door, and another, down some steps and through another door. As you get closer, you see more and more of Joker’s men picking themselves up off the ground, tending to their injuries. He had caused quite the scene it seems. You concentrate on your breathing, trying to hold back the impending dread. He really wasn’t going to like this. Eventually you rounded on the final corridor. It led to a large open floor that might have just been used for storage once upon a time. Now, it was used more like a stage.

Entering through the final door, you look up to see two figures silhouetted by the harsh floodlights. The Robin was strung up by his arms on the hook that suspended from the ceiling, just high enough so that his toes grazed the floor, denying him any real purchase. The Joker was a few feet away, gesticulating with his hands, mid conversation, when he notices you arrive.

It gets harder to walk towards them, dread weighing down your every movement, but you force yourself closer. Hesitating would only make things worse.

“Dollybird! There you are. I was just talking about you. How nice of you to join us.” Joker opens his arms wide for you and you step into them, feeling his arm drape casually across your shoulder.

He doesn’t elaborate, leaving you to guess what he might have been saying to the Robin. In lieu of an explanation, he pivots you to squarely face a few feet away from the Robin, bringing his face down so you can feel his breath on your neck. “So, what do you think? Take a proper look. He’s a handsome one, right?”

He probably was, objectively speaking. At least from what you could see of his face; he had a bloodied split lip and a cut above the mask that obscured the final details. From what you could tell he was lean, agile, and as well fed and well rested as you’d expect a Robin to be with Alfred there to take care of them. A pang of loss strikes you at the thought. The suit had seen some upgrades too, you realised. It was kind of similar to Dick’s old suit in shape, but the armour had been modified, padding added. More protection, you thought bitterly. He cared more about this one then.

The Robin, unbeknown to your thoughts, jerks his torso, struggling against the restraints “Hey, fuck you! You piece of shit.”

The Joker cackles, clapping his hands eagerly. “Ooh he’s got some fight in him still.”

“You know Dolly,” He adds, dropping his voice for only you to hear. “He got further, through more of my men than you ever did.” The venom laced tone of his words twists your mind, making your heart sink in self-doubt. He was a better Robin than you? You weren’t sure which you hated more: the thought that he was a better Robin, or the thought that after everything you’d been through, you still cared. You weren’t Robin anymore, and you never would be again. Just the thought of it makes you shudder.

Scrunching his face up in anger, the Robin growls at the Joker. “Leave her alone!”

“Leave her alone!” Joker mocks with glee. He steps away from you to circle around the dangling caped crusader. “You really sound the part, Rob; You look the part, and hey, you know what? You gave it a good old college try today. I can respect that. You did good, kid, for a sidekick.”

“I’m gonna kill you!”

You catch the Joker rolling his eyes, chuckling as he makes his way back to you. “Kill me, ay? Your precious Daddy Bats would be rather disappointed to hear you so eager to break his one golden rule, no?”

“You know,” Joker starts, rounding on you unexpectedly. “Speaking of being disappointed: It’s come to my attention that you haven’t been a very good host, Sweets. You didn’t even try to warn the poor boy.”

Ice floods your veins, setting every nerve into overdrive as you feel yourself begin to tremble. Disappointed. You swallow thickly, fighting the bile in your throat as look up at him in earnest. “I’m sorry Mr J – Sir. I thought you’d want to tell him yourself.”

Joker coos appreciatively, his tone with that harsh edge to it that always somehow gives everything a double meaning, making you question your own sanity. “How considerate. But you see, Dearie, he made quite the mess. It’s spoiled my plans for this evening, you know.”

Crushing guilt makes your voice small and timid. “It has?”

He nods slowly, twisting knives with simple words, looking at you with intent. “Oh yes Pumpkin. I’m not happy with you. Not happy at all.”

A whimper escapes your lips. Nothing good ever happened when he was upset with you. You had really fucked up this time. You had failed the test so quickly. You were useless. Pathetic.

Hastily, you try to fix it. Make him see that you could be good. That you could be useful. Platitudes rush out of you, before you can even think them through. “I’m sorry Mr J – Sir. I’m sorry. I’ll do better. I promise. I’ll teach him the rules.”

You reach out to him, gripping his forearm to emphasise the point you’re trying to make but it’s swiftly rejected as he turns away. “I’m not sure you’re up to the task, Dolly. I don’t want you getting too attached to the boy. Remember that will you?”

Your jaw clenches at the thought. How could you feel anything for him? He was your replacement. Maybe even the reason the Bat abandoned you in the first place. The anger bleeds through your voice as you glare at the Robin. “He’s nothing to me.”

Joker looks back at you, his face split into a wide, predatory grin. “Jealousy looks good on you Poppet.” He nods, walking over to the table against the wall before leaning against it casually. Some of the tension in your body eases, having won back some of his favour. “You’re not looking at the bigger picture though, Sweetheart. How about you try thinking of it like this instead: the Bat lied to him just as much as he lied to you. We need to help him learn the rules – make him realise the truth. It’s the Bat that’s to blame in all this, not this poor birdie.”

You don’t respond immediately, letting Joker’s words sink in with a furrowed brow. He had made a good point. The Bat had filled your head with ideals that you could you be somebody that just simply didn’t exist. Chances are he did that with this one too. This Robin didn’t realise how easily he would be abandoned, how easily he could be replaced. For the first time, you consider that fact that you could maybe help him. Learning the truth had been so difficult for you. Maybe you could make it easier for him.

“You’re crazy.” The Robin grunts out, interrupting your thoughts, his eyes flicking warily between you and Mr J, who was circling back to you again. You’re not sure who the Robin was talking about, but it didn’t matter.

You suck in a breath, as if to brace yourself against this new test. Your voice sounds more determined than you feel though. “I’ll do it Sir.”

The Joker squeezes your shoulder, excitement lighting up his eyes. “You will? Oh goody.” From behind his back, he produces a long, aluminium baseball bat. Did he have that the whole time? You weren’t sure. He offers it to you, his voice dropping to a low register, dangerous and insistent. “Do it with this.”

A sense of Déjà vu washes over you as you take the bat from his outstretched hands with a nod, muscle memory taking over. This was an old game. You’ve played it before. You know how it goes.

It took some goading to convince you to go through with it the first time; You had been trained to save people, to only hurt those who would stand in the way of that. Killing was out of the question. When the Joker first taught you his rules, he had brought you the worst kinds of people: rapists, murderers. It gave you the reasoning you needed to forgive yourself for it after. They deserved it. But once he had gotten you started, it was harder to stop. Gang members, politicians, strangers – he stopped telling you their stories. One notable time, he had duct taped a Batman mask to the poor guy’s head. At some point you had stopped trying to resist, failing to even put up a token protest – it just wasn’t worth the consequences. Sometimes Joker ended it before you went too far but more often than not, he didn’t let you stop until you were covered in their blood, and they’d long stopped twitching.

Gripping the bat with two hands, you square yourself up to take a swing, moving closer to the target. You weren’t sure if you were hoping that the Joker would stop you this time or not, deciding that it didn’t matter anyway. It was easier not having a choice sometimes.

As you pull back, the Robin’s eyes widen, realising what is about to happen. “Wait, Lady. Don’t!”

You don’t hesitate. You follow through, connecting with his ribs, the pained grunt drowning out the noise of the impact. One blow turns into several, your body aching with the strain as you lose yourself in the violent act. All your frustrations and insecurities pour into each swing. This wasn’t just another stranger; this was a Robin. Your replacement.

You could handle it, you tell yourself, if it was just the suit. If it was just the job. But that wasn’t how it worked. It was difficult not to think of this newcomer as some impostor that had stolen something important from you. He had taken the life you naively thought you’d get to keep. You wondered if Bruce had told him he was proud of him. You wondered if they had given him your old room too. You wondered if Alfred –

You cut off your train of thought, rage boiling over into your movements. You roar in frustration as the metal collides with his chin, knocking his head backwards. Gritting your teeth, you raise the bat above your head to bring it down hard against him when a sudden strong grip halts your movement.

On some distant level, it registers that there are tears on your face.

Joker takes the bat from you gently, as though you were an easily startled animal. “Ah ah ahh. That’s enough. I think he’s learned his lesson, don’t you?”

You blink, taking a look at the Robin you realise that he is unconscious, his head bowed and body hanging limp.

Falling back, you try to catch your breath, looking down at your feet. “Yes Sir.”

The Joker’s long fingers tip your chin up to make you look into his eyes. “You did a good job Sweetheart.” He soothes, moving his hand to stroke your hair.

His approving touch settles you somewhat. Unable to look away, you feel raw and overwhelmed, unable to hide away like you really wished you could. Despite it all, you feel grateful. “Thank you, Sir.”

“Although,” He starts, gripping your hair tight enough to sting. “We can’t really blame the Boy Wonder now, can we? Not when you failed to tell him how we play our little games.”

Wincing in pain, you reach out to hold onto the lapels of his suit jacket. “I’m so sorry. It won’t happen again.”

He levels his face with yours, grinning. “Oh, I know you are kitten. And you’re right. It won’t.”

He throws you to the ground by your hair. You cry out from the unexpected movement, pain blossoming in your back from old injuries. Looking up in pure terror you see the bat, silhouetted in the floodlights as Joker raises it over his shoulder. He laughs.

“Please, no!”

Part 4

#jason todd #red hood #robin #jason todd x you #jason todd x reader #reader insert #18+#jason todd imagine #jason todd fanfiction #dc #dc fanfiction #joker #batman

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thattimdrakeguy · 2 years

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the only good part of three jokers was the way jason was drawn imo

To a degree I'd argue even his best characterization in years. Which is funny, because when Under the Red Hood was happening, I thought Geoff Johns did a horrible job writing Jason when he went to Titans Tower.

UTRH Jason is all calm and collected most of the time. He has this personal thing against Batman for not doing anything about the Joker. He only loses it when it comes to the Joker really. He's not going crazy beating up Batman just for the sake of it all the time.

So whys he going after this kid dressed as Robin? That wasn't one of his motivations as far as I recall. That was made up for this story Teen Titans story. Yet he's traveling to the other side of the country to kill a kid, that he's never met, while wearing a new Robin costume, that I assume he had someone make for him, under his Red Hood clothes for some reason.

If he is upset at there being another Robin. Wouldn’t that be based in the fact that Bruce actually did that? So shouldn’t he be more mad at Bruce? I feel like kids being hit is one of those types of crimes that would set Jason off. So it feels unfitting and sort of waters him down.

I have no idea why so many people still talk about that issue. It's a dogshit comic.

But anyways, rant over about that. Geoff Johns' really did a lot better at writing Jason. It's more in-line with his UTRH characterization without doing of that "OOOH, BUT NOW HE'S JUST A VILLAIN NOW" bull crap they kept tryna pull 'til the New 52 made him a generic gun totting anti-hero, with a wacky roommate, and a walking orange sex doll. (That may be too harsh on the Starfire part. It's been a long time since I read RHATO. So she could've been more than that. I'm just saying what everyone complained about.)

Like Jason's pretty calm when it's not Joker related, he's more sardonic then teasing, vicious fighter, and damn good at what he does. And while I don't think they needed to do a romance between him and Babs, I actually liked that they somewhat attempted a more reasonable way for Jason to get better, then just randomly letting him and the Bat-Family back together acting like they get find because "Oh he's using rubber bullets with them", when no he'd still be killing people rubber bullets or not, those things can fuck people up to death when not fired at the appropriate distance. Plus, still, even then.

It gave Jason something to do with his trauma, than measly using it as an excuse for why Jason is, then using it for any real meaningful story bits. So that was nice.

Then you got Babs watching an ad on restless leg syndrome, because HAHA get it, she was in a wheel chair? The fucking odds of that being on the TV while she's exercising. It's so contrived. And then being mad at Jason for killing, then not being so mad 'cause...'cause Jason's not so baaad? I guess?

What thrilling drama that doesn't feel ultimately hallow and pointless, and doesn't go anywhere.

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mable-stitchpunk · 3 years

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Please rant abt fnaf interpretations I am, all ears

.I didn't expect such a positive response! 8D I got a few asks for them, and I'll see if maybe I can reply to a few of them with different interpretations...

...Also-

Let's begin with the rants. You might've seen some of these points before, but I'll bring them back up because I desire to.

1. The ghosts of the Missing Children are evil.

I don't read a lot of fanworks anymore, but I used to loathe when I would find those fics where the murdered children would be portrayed as vindictive little monsters who were going out of their way to ruin everyone's lives. Possessing main characters and forcing animatronics to go against their wishes to attack innocents for little reason.

I find this is the reason I also don't like the "animatronics are sentient and possessed by second consciousness" headcanon. Not all of them are bad, mind, you, but many of them eventually go the earlier route.

Why I hate this is because it's never a situation where we're being led to see the children as sympathetic, or corrupted by time, but a way to make the Missing Children less sympathetic to the audience. Or to raise drama by having a slew of ghosts who feel no sympathy and cannot be stopped.

Other versions show them as being especially bratty or excessively mischievous, which I just find a little annoying.

Funny enough, I don't think a child's soul going rogue is a bad idea. Such as in the case of Andrew, who I feel was massively underutilized. You can just tell when it is a pull to make the reader see in a specific direction. You can tell when there's a subconscious desire to make the murders seem 'not that bad'.

Also, the idea that the ghosts of dead children are evil because they're looking for justice for their deaths is kind of frustrating when so many headcanons try to excuse William's actions by suggesting that something traumatic triggered them.

Of course, in these cases the children are seldom actually looking for their murderer and instead are just circling around someone else.

...Oh yeah, and since we're on it-

2. William killed those children for revenge. (As a defense)

Specifically, when this is NOT used as a plotpoint, but instead used as a blame shield for William Afton. You can usually tell the difference by how the effect is cast on William.

If the tone is: William lost someone and then went on a kamikaze mission to ruin everyone's lives. Then typically it's fine.

If the tone is: William killed a lot of people- but he only did it because he lost his x! Then it gets frustrating.

It's the same boat as that Henry depression excuse, though it's worse in this case because William didn't just murder children, it's suggested that he hunted and tortured them, and then brought them back to continue making them suffer as animatronics.

3. William was a scientist.

Don't give him that much credit. This man didn't start doing science experiments until the plot got so elaborate that they needed to one-up him with himself.

4. Henry was a good father.

I absolutely loathe this one, because it hinges off of the novel's version of Henry, who actively abandoned one of his children to obsess on the other one. To the point of forcibly bringing them back without caring if the other existed- and then ditching that one too.

Sammy Emily does not exist to the FNAF fanbase. He's not a sympathetic character or an important character, he's just a plotpoint that's written out when it comes time for the big Shyamalan twist. He's pretty much totally ignored.

And by his father too. Henry never acknowledges Sammy, never cares about Sammy. He only cares about what happened to Charlie.

...But not enough to do anything about it.

Which is why I think a little acknowledgement that Henry wasn't great just because he died would go a long way. I won't even go into his more egregious actions.

5. Circus Baby's sexualization.

This is one actually backed by canon, but that doesn't make it any better. I hate the constant sexualization of Circus Baby... and especially the hypocrisy that surrounds it.

Let me give you one example of an event I had once.

When I was first writing CGHA and Mike and Mari got together, there were a lot of people who apparently missed the numerous references to the fact that Mari had aged in his many years as a puppet. This meant that Mari was now an adult, but they said since he died as a child that he is still a child. The word pedophilia was dropped a few times.

These are the SAME people who are all gung-ho about Baby dolled up in a sexy human body with skimpy skirts and long boots, dolled up by her daddy. But isn't SHE still a child?

Well, no... Because she's a bad girl, so she doesn't count.

Get off with that.

6: Vanny is in love with William Afton.

Unless we're talking Stockholm Syndrome, I don't think you're going to love a demonic entity possessing you and threatening to break your fingers if you do the wrong thing. I guess you can say that's abusive love, but like Joker and Harley Quinn, people somehow manage to forget that aspect.

I've gone into this before, so I'm not going to rant on it again. Largely because I don't know how FNAF will portray Vanny, and it's not above them to take inspiration from other sources.

Now, unlike some of these other headcanons, I THINK someone could actually write a story and make this work if they acknowledged that it was beyond "toxic". Vanny would have to be emotionally and mentally crippled to respond positively to such treatment, but it is possible if it was backed up with behavioral issues and a backstory.

You'd have to get on Silent Hill 2 levels of backstory, but it is possible if you want to go that dark.

---

I think I'll end it there for now. I know some of these might be hot takes, but I'm just voicing my thoughts here. Again, not saying anyone's wrong for holding these interpretations, but I think they should consider why they hold them.

Because it looks to me like these are used-

1: To make this Missing Children Incident less severe. 2: To make William Afton more sympathetic. 3: To make William Afton look cool. 4: To make Henry a martyr in contrast with William. 5: To have a forced femme fatal. 6: To underplay how gross the possession aspect- especially when it is a middle-aged man in complete control of a young woman's body and actions.

...But hey! That's just me. Rant over, for now. XD

#FNAF #Rant #Interpretations #The Missing Children #William Afton #Henry Emily #Elizabeth Afton #Circus Baby #Vanny #Vanessa

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 3 years

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Will you be writing another fic? Because your previous chapter got me thinking of Marinette being dipped in the chemical thing like Harley and had been and becomes crazy like them.

Yeah… trigger warnings. I don’t really know the words for a lot of triggers but if you’re squeamish around emotional and physical abuse or Stockholm syndrome I would suggest not reading this

Also, fun fact: this actually was an alternate ending for Satisfied I considered but ended up not doing because it was darker than I wanted the fic to go

Also also, you don’t need to read Satisfied to read this one. There are a few references to the story, but really all you need to know is that Marinette is using the horse miraculous to spy on the Rogues

She hummed lightly as she went around the warehouse, gathering her things (Catwoman had a tendency to take her things, then get bored of them and leave them in random places). She was just about to open a portal when Joker spoke:

“Wait, NightMare, could you come back later tonight?”

A chill ran down her spine and Marinette spun on her heel to face him.

“Of course, Joker, sir. May I know why?” She said as pleasantly as she could.

He only smiled wider behind his mask.

She bit down on the inside of her cheek and opened a portal for herself.

Marinette stepped into the warehouse again and hugged herself tightly. There were no Rogues in sight outside of Joker, who was leaning against his cane as he waited for her.

But, while this worried her, what really messed with her was the fact that he was standing on a tarp. She strained to remember whether or not the tarp had been there earlier, because if it hadn’t…

She tasted blood and quickly released her tongue.

The plastic crinkled beneath her as she walked over to him.

“What did you need me for, sir?”

He didn’t answer again.

“Is something wrong?”

The man finally looked at her and icy dread flooded through her veins. He wasn’t smiling.

But she didn’t have time to figure out what his expression meant, because the lights chose that exact moment to flicker and die.

Marinette made two tiny portals and slowly moved them around, using the dim blue light that they gave off as a kind of makeshift flashlight. It was barely anything, she could still only see a few steps ahead of her, but at least it was better than the total darkness she’d just been in.

She looked around for Joker and couldn’t help but panic a little bit when she couldn’t find him. Where had he gone? He was just next to her, and the tarp crinkled underneath her with every step, how had he just up and disappeared without her knowing?

“I’ll go find the fuse box,” she said softly. There was a very low chance that this was a coincidence but she wasn’t going to risk her identity quite yet.

Her eyes peered around the darkness and she started to walk, only to hear the tarp crinkle behind her. She whipped around in surprise just in time to see the mallet coming towards her face.

Her head jerked back so painfully she swore her neck snapped and she found herself weightless.

Or, at least, she felt weightless right up until she slammed into a wall headfirst. She became painfully aware of just how not weightless she was as her body crumpled in on itself.

She slid to the floor slowly. Her head pounded painfully and she could barely see through all the colorful lights dancing in her vision. She tried to shake her head to get rid of them, but it only seemed to make it worse.

Harley came into view and Marinette cursed when she realized that she was the one to hit her with the mallet. The woman wore an uncharacteristically sad expression as she pointed it at her.

“You were really working for Bats the whole time?” She whispered, her voice soft.

“I don’t…” She swallowed back bile and blood. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Please…”

The woman in front of her sighed. “Liar.”

She raised her mallet and Marinette tried to move her body. It was supposed to move, she was telling it to move, why wouldn’t it move?

The mallet came down on her and her eyes rolled back in her head.

God, five senses and all of them sucked.

People were screaming in her left ear. Someone must have manually turned on her comm. Every word felt like a mallet to the head (something that she now could say for certain). Their voices blended together, though, and it was useless to even try to discern what they were saying.

Her nose was bleeding. Every painful breath through her definitely broken nose was accented by the scent of her blood.

She’d tried to breathe through her mouth, only to taste blood instead of smell it.

Someone had bound her in her own lasso, and they hadn’t been gentle. The rope dug into her skin and chaffed against her with every breath.

The lights were back on. She wished they weren’t. The lights were so bright that even having her eyes open a sliver sent pain racing through her skull.

But she needed to see. She peeled her eyes open.

The Rogues were all standing over her, betrayal etched on each of their faces.

Outside of Joker, who looked like he was having the time of his life.

She didn’t really know which was worse.

“So, she’s finally stopped dreaming!” Said Joker brightly. “Now, we have limited time before the bats start tracking you -- if they haven’t already -- so be a doll and tell us which ear your comm is in.”

She opened her mouth to tell him to fuck off, only to choke on her own blood.

“I’d suggest telling us, it’ll be a lot less painful for you,” said Penguin, pointing his umbrella at her.

Marinette glared up at them, lips pressed together tightly.

“Right, we’ll have to guess,” said Catwoman.

Penguin nodded. He tipped his head from side to side as if considering before he positioned his umbrella under her left ear. She could feel the cold blade against her earlobe and horror filled her as she realized what was happening. He pressed down on her stomach with his foot to hold her still and then sliced upwards.

Her ear fell to the floor beside her.

She nearly bit her tongue off to stop herself from screaming. Unfortunately, she couldn’t help the rest of her reaction: her body wouldn’t stop shaking, tears and blood spilled from her head.

Joker leaned down next to her and checked the wound.

“Wrong one!”

Her eyes widened. But it was the right one. Her tear-filled eyes found Harley’s. Surely, she could tell he was lying. That was her thing. Marinette couldn’t tell them -- if she opened her mouth she would sob, and she could not let them hear that -- but Harley could.

But the woman averted her gaze.

And Penguin pressed harder into her to hold her still again and poised his umbrella over her right ear.

And then he chopped that one off, too.

A guttural scream escaped her lips despite her best attempts to stifle it and she thrashed around desperately.

Joker leaned down and gave a mock gasp of surprise. “Oh!” His voice sounded tiny and far away. “Guess I missed it! Oopsies!”

He reached into her left ear and dug her comm out with his gloved fingers. She spasmed around in her bindings, sobs slipping from between her lips.

She couldn’t even manage to stay conscious long enough to watch him smash her comm -- her last chance of being saved -- under his foot.

She woke up to the sound of metal scraping against metal.

It was just Harley and Joker right now, and they were pushing the heavy lid off of a vat of acid.

She was also still tied up, but that was hardly important to her at the moment.

Wait, actually, now that she was trying to get away, it was definitely important to her.

“Oh, look who woke up just in time, Harls!” Said Joker when he noticed her slowly inch-worming away.

She cursed quietly and then shot him a glare. “So, what’s the plan here? Throw me in acid and see if it kills me? It won't.”

Joker laughed, waving her off. “Of course not! This is trial number two of my experiments.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh? An experiment? You have an independent and dependent variable? How are you quantifying it? Where’s your control group?”

Harley shook her head, giving her a look like ‘shut up if you know what’s good for you’.

Marinette, in fact, did not know what was good for her.

“Besides, that implies that you’ve done this before.”

“I have! On Red Robin. Of course, that experiment failed… he didn’t kill Batman like I’d asked him to, but I think I know where I went wrong!”

She raised her eyebrows. She hadn’t heard about this.

“You see, for him I had to be careful how much I tortured him. If I had killed him then it would have been a waste of time and effort. But with you… I can do whatever I want with you and you won’t die.”

Oh. Fuck.

Still, she gave him a cocky grin. “But he snapped out of your brainwashing and everything. Clearly, torture doesn’t work. I doubt the amount you do will make it any different.”

His eyes narrowed.

“We’ll see about that.”

She took a deep breath as he picked her up and brought her to the edge of the vat. She just had to make sure to hold her breath for as long as possible…

Except, the moment her skin touched the acid, she screamed.

It felt like every cell in her body was attempting to break away from her. She screamed until her throat was raw. Every movement pulled another sob from her lips.

She needed to breathe. But there wasn’t anything around her to breathe in besides acid. She tried to hold it off as long as she could, but it was useless. She acid streamed into her nose and mouth and suddenly the pain was on the inside, too.

A different pain started on her scalp and suddenly cold air rushed over her.

Joker had pulled her out by her hair, and was now holding her torso above the acid. Sure, everything still in the acid and her insides were still on fire, but it wasn’t all of her anymore.

“If you want it to stop, just say please.” He cupped his free hand to his ear like he was about to listen to her.

She opened her mouth, prepared to beg despite her pride, but all that came out was acid. Had she forgotten how to breathe? To speak? She tried to force some air into her lungs, she knew the basic motion for breathing, but it couldn’t seem to push through any of the acid.

“Well, if you have nothing to say…”

He pushed her head back under again.

God, she wished she was dead. Her body was trying so hard to die, she could feel it. The problem was the stupid suit she was wearing: the horse miraculous wasn’t about to give up its user without a fight.

She mouthed the words, but it was useless. You have to actually say them. No sound left her lips, so she was forced to remain painfully alive.

She slowly curled in on herself in the acid, unable to do anything besides cry.

And then a hand pulled her out again. This time, to her surprise, she fully left the vat.

She looked at Harley through heavy eyelids and the woman reached out and gently closed her eyes for her.

Joker sounded annoyed as he spoke: “You’d better have some good suggestions, Harley.”

“Of course! I was a psychiatrist, I can break her for you! Here’s what I suggest we do...”

Marinette didn’t get to hear the suggestions, she was too busy falling unconscious.

She woke up on the floor of what appeared to be a lab. Clinically bright lights assaulted her eyes and she had to keep her gaze on the ground to stop herself from crying.

She wasn’t bound anymore. This didn’t mean that moving was easy. Her body shook as she pushed herself up into a sitting position.

“Ah, she’s awake!” Said Scarecrow’s voice.

Her head whipped around to where it had come from, she hadn’t noticed another person with her, and found it was only a speaker on the wall. Oh. That made more sense.

“Now, this is a new batch. I’ve been working to perfect my fear toxin, and I think this is the one! Do tell me about your experience when this is over.”

She watched as the gas flooded into the room. Adrenaline coursed through her as she looked around. She needed a way out.

There! Maybe! Whatever, she had no other options!

She ran to the observation window. It was one-way glass, she couldn’t see through it, but they had to be there. She threw herself at it as hard as she could and groaned in pain when she realized it was bullet-proof glass. Now she knew how Hood had felt when he’d crashed into that window. No wonder he hadn’t moved for twenty minutes afterward. Her body throbbed painfully.

And why should she move? It wasn’t like she was going to be able to avoid the gas.

She closed her eyes as the gas enveloped her.

For a second there was nothing.

She allowed herself to think that, hey, maybe it was a bust. He’d said it was a new version, after all...

And then she heard screaming.

Her eyes snapped open and she watched with horror at the scene unfolding in front of her.

She was at the Wayne Gala, if the fancy outfits and semi-familiar surroundings meant anything. But it wasn’t the calm, posh event that she’d been told about: everyone was running around and screaming at the top of their lungs.

And she could see why.

The Rogues stood at the door, their goons behind them.

And they were all holding machine guns.

“Tikki, spots on!”

She ran through the crowd, pushing past terrified civilian after terrified civilian. She could see the bats doing the same.

And then they opened fire.

People fell to the ground, riddled with holes.

She couldn’t think about it. She ran faster, desperate to do something. Anything.

A shot nailed her in the head.

She was unconscious before she’d even hit he ground.

Marinette groaned as she pushed herself to a sitting position. Just a nightmare, then. Sunlight glared down on her and she brought up a hand to use to block some of it out so she could open her eyes a little.

And god, did she wish she hadn’t. The area around her was covered in bodies. People, the ghost of their last moments of terror on their face, all slumped over each other, motionless. Dried blood coated the grass.

“Oh, thank god, you’re up. You can fix it, right?” Said Tim, and she quickly turned to look at him. She hadn’t been expecting to see him or the rest of the bats there. She breathed a sigh of relief. They were okay, at least…

And then she processed what he’d asked her.

She looked at the floor to avoid their gazes, which was decidedly a mistake. Bile built up in the back of her throat.

So… so much blood…

Damian clicked his tongue. “C’mon, hurry up. They’ve been dead for ages. They’re going to smell soon.”

Her eyes snapped back to him, and she would have been angry at any other time. Now, though, as she looked at them all…

“I… I didn’t summon a lucky charm. I can’t… I’m so sorry...”

Jason’s eyes widened behind his mask, and then he groaned and brought his hands to his hair. “What the fuck do you mean you can’t?!”

She winced.

“You didn’t think to cast a lucky charm beforehand?” Said Damian with a scowl on his face.

She bit the inside of her cheek. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think of it.”

“How? It’s literally your thing,” said Dick.

Marinette felt tears spill over the front of her mask and she brought up a hand to wipe them away, only to find it was coated in dried blood.

“What the fuck do we even keep you around for?” Jason said, pulling her attention back to them.

Dick pinched the bridge of his nose. “We should have known after that whole ‘murdering a clerk’ incident.”

“That was an accident!”

“The only way you could kill someone accidentally is if you were an idiot.”

“I’m not stupid, but it was an accident!”

They weren’t looking at her anymore.

“I told you we should have tried harder to make her give up after the convenience store stuff,” said Bruce with a tiny frown.

“No, what we should have done was never involve her at all,” said Damian.

Marinette hugged her knees to her chest. Every word they’d said was like another tiny knife through her heart, but…

She looked at Tim. He’d been silent for a while. Surely, he would understand. They were friends, after all, had been even before the costumes and vigilantism. At least he had to have some sort of care for her --.

But then he sneered at her. “How did you fail at the one thing we needed you to do? Could you be any more useless?”

Her heart shattered.

“I’m… I’m not useless! I can still do things! I messed this one up… really bad… but that doesn’t mean I can’t still be useful!” She pushed herself to her feet and ran to him. She grabbed his arm. “Please! I promise, there’s still so much I can do! Please --!”

But he pulled his arm from her with a disgusted expression.

She watched the bats walk away and slowly fell to her knees.

“Please… I’m not useless… Please...”

She buried her face in her hands. Tears trickled between her fingers.

“Don’t leave…”

You’d think that, after the third or fourth time, having your friends leave you would hurt less. That you would be numb. But it only seemed to get worse and worse.

Every single time she saw their disgusted expressions, every time she listened to their hurtful words, every time she watched their retreating backs…

It cut deeper and deeper.

She wanted it to stop. Why wouldn’t it? Was there anything she could do to stop it? Or would she be doomed to be alone for the rest of her life?

The screaming restarted.

She sighed and opened her eyes to terrified elites.

Here we go again...

A hand gently shook her awake and she opened her eyes.

This was new. Maybe the fear toxin had decided to get creative this time.

Harley was leaning over her.

Marinette would have screamed if she could, but her throat was raw from crying.

Still, she sunk into the floor as much as she could.

“Hey, darlin’, it’s okay…” said Harley gently. She held out a hand and Marinette flinched. Then she realized that the woman was offering a glass of water.

She frowned. Was it poisoned? She didn’t think she had a deep-rooted fear of being poisoned, but there was no other reason the woman would be doing this for her.

Harley sighed quietly and took a sip, then offered it to Marinette again. “It’s not poisoned, darlin’.”

She raised her eyebrows slightly and slowly downed the water. It wasn’t enough. She felt like she could drink an entire pool’s worth of water and still be thirsty. But she wasn’t going to risk asking for it.

The woman smiled faintly and reached out a hand. Marinette flinched again, but the woman continued on to cup her cheek.

It took everything in her not to lean into the woman’s touch. When was the last time she’d had skin-to-skin contact…?

But there had to be some sort of catch.

“Why?” She whispered, her voice raspy.

“Because it’s been a long few days for you.”

Days? No wonder she felt so awful.

“Aren’t you mad? I was going to betray you…”

“I wasn’t mad, just disappointed,” she said, running her thumb along her cheekbone gently.

God, the little affection felt amazing…

But…

“I’m not going to kill Batman. I’m not of use to you.”

The woman withdrew her hand. Marinette felt like crying. Damn it, why did she have to go and ruin it like that? She could have pretended for longer. No wonder people left her so often. She wasn’t even smart enough to know when to lie...

“But you could be,” she promised.

Her head shot up to look at Harley, but she was already leaving.

The wall opened up and she paused before stepping through to give Marinette an unreadable smile.

“I’ll let you think about it. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

The door shut behind her and green gas began to flood the room.

Harley was back again. This time, she had given her a granola bar.

She scarfed it down. Her face reddened when she saw Harley looking at her and she wiped a few stray crumbs from her mouth.

The woman chuckled and reached out to get some crumbs she’d missed.

Marinette closed her eyes.

“I know you’re trying to ‘break’ me. I heard you tell Joker you would. It won’t work.”

Harley didn’t say anything, just allowed her to continue on.

“The whole ‘psychological torture’ thing isn’t that different from just torturing me physically. It takes longer and uses more resources. Don’t see why you bother.”

She sighed quietly. “There’s more to it than that, darlin’.”

Marinette frowned.

“Wow, weren’t you supposed to be smart?” She made a quiet ‘tsk’ sound and pulled her hand away. “Maybe you were right, you can’t kill Batman. I don’t know why we expected you to be able to beat the ‘World’s Greatest Detective’ when you can’t even figure out what I’m doing…”

She knew it was just to get a rise out of her. She knew it was meant to annoy her. Didn’t mean it didn’t work.

“I’m not stupid!” She hissed.

The woman smirked a little. “Sure you aren’t.”

“I’m not!”

“Really?” Harley laughed. “It’s not like you can prove it stuck in here, and it’s not like you’re going to try and kill Batman. You said it yourself, you wouldn’t do that. So, what, are you going to do taxes?”

She jutted her chin out. “I could. Give me your tax papers. I’ll do them.”

The woman raised her eyebrows slightly and gave an unreadable smile, reaching out and ruffling her hair.

Marinette allowed herself to lean into her touch. Just a little.

She watched the woman leave and broke into a smile.

Not only was she going to be able to prove that she could be useful (she’d done taxes with her parents several times as a kid, she could do Harley’s no problem), she was going to do it without agreeing to kill Batman.

Also, since the fear toxin apparently wasn’t making an appearance this time, she was almost getting bored.

She was going to call the fact that she was about to do Harley’s taxes for her a win.

A few hours later, Harley stepped in and dropped the stack of papers in a half-awake Marinette’s lap.

She startled and looked around wildly to figure out what was going on. Then she relaxed when she saw the woman. She was handed a crayon and she raised her eyebrows.

“Only writing utensil you can’t kill anyone with,” explained Harley. She grinned at her. “You sure you can do this?”

“Of course I’m sure!”

Harley laughed and leaned down, pressing a kiss to Marinette’s forehead. “Good for you, darlin’.”

She beamed as she got to work.

Harley smiled faintly as she walked in a few days later. She offered some coffee and a few cookies. Marinette gave a whoop and took them from her, relishing in the taste a little. Was it at all nutritious? No. But it was a hell of a lot tastier than water and granola bars.

“How’s it coming along?”

“Done!” Said Marinette brightly, handing over the papers.

The woman raised her eyebrows as she flipped through it. Her eyes scanned them and she chuckled. “Wow, it’s all correct…”

“Oh, it’s no big deal.”

It was a big deal. She’d spent days poring over every number she wrote, overthinking even the most basic math problems. But she wasn’t going to say that. Harley looked so proud of her, surely she’d be more proud if she thought it wasn’t that hard.

And, to Marinette’s delight, the woman leaned down and wrapped her in a hug. “Nice job, darlin’! You’ve done so well!”

When the door opened again, Marinette beamed and looked up.

Only for her smile to drop.

Because Joker was with Harley.

She squeaked and attempted to fade into the wall behind her.

Harley made a quiet ‘tsk’ sound with her tongue at Marinette’s obvious horror. “Now, now, darlin’... be nice.”

Marinette hesitated, but she did carefully walk over to Joker and shake his outstretched hand. “Nice to see you,” she strained.

He looked a little bit impressed, though not that much.

Harley, however, openly smiled. She wrapped her arm around Marinette’s shoulders and pulled her into her side. “Thank you.”

She nodded ever so slightly.

They waved at his retreating back and Marinette waited until the door was closed behind him to speak: “I’m not going to kill Batman. Not for you, and especially not for him.”

The woman pulled away from her with a frown on her face.

She tried not to whine at the loss of touch. After all, it was her fault. She’d ruined the moment, once again, by admitting that she wasn’t going to be useful in the one way Harley so desperately wanted her to.

“Really?” She sighed and shook her head. “Maybe you and Joker were right. Maybe I’m putting too much work into this… I don’t know. I’ll let Scarecrow have you while I figure it out. Who knows how long that’ll take.”

Marinette squeaked. “You’re coming back in the meantime, right?”

“I don’t know.”

Nononononono she couldn’t be left alone again! Especially not with the fear gas! That was even worse!

But…

She couldn’t kill Batman either.

She couldn’t.

Right?

She watched Harley leave and fell to her knees. She could see the fear toxin slowly streaming in.

She found she had made up her mind.

The bats had yet to find her, despite it having been around a month from her approximations. If they’d really wanted her back, wouldn’t they have done so by now? Sure, it was made harder by the fact that they couldn’t track her, but weren’t they supposed to be the ‘World’s Greatest Detectives’ or something? They must not be trying.

And, besides…

When she’d broken the news, she’d been wrapped in a bone-crushing hug.

Marinette choked back a sob, though she didn’t know why. She hugged back, burying her face in Harley’s neck.

It felt so good to be held like this. Like she mattered. Like someone cared about her.

She would do anything to keep it that way.

A part 2 has been made

#i call this one 'flexing my psychology knowledge for 4.5k words'#or maybe 'yall are really lucky i only use my psychology degree for writing'#submitted prompt #satisfied #alternate ending #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #harleen quinzel #harley quinn #joker #angst #maribat #alternative ending

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imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 4 years

Text

Dangerous Love (Pt. 08 of 13)

Pairing: Bruce Wayne (Batman) X Harley Quinn's sister!Reader

Word count: 2.9K

Summary: You're Harley Quinn's sister, Havoc, one of the many villain's of Gotham. But you've been caught, and has been tortured constantly for an year in Belle Reve. But when your think your life can't be anything else than the nightmare you find yourself into, Bruce Wayne, the Batman, takes you in for a project. He has a program to rehabilitate villains, and you're his lab rat. But soon enough confusing feelings start getting in the way. You know falling for Bruce is stupid. But can you keep your heart under control?

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{Justice League - DC Masterlist}

Home isn't Always a Place

You're pushed forward, a gun on your back. You step down the ramp, the sunlight blinding you for a while. The headquarters were built here, in some sort of field. There as soldiers everywhere, and they're immediately aware of you. Of course they are, you're a threat. With a gun on your hand, seven bullets means seven men on the ground, crying in pain. You hardly miss.

“Sister!” A yell gets your attention, and you turn to its source. Harley comes running, throwing her arms around you. “So good to see you. Where have you been?”

In paradise. “Same place as I've been for the last year. Isn't it obvious?” Shrugging your shoulders casually, you try not to look to misplaced. Wait. Why would you look misplaced here?

“Well, now we get to have fun and some family bonding.” As she speaks, a soldier walking by gets her attention. “Hey, you. Can you help me with something?” She says in a flirting tone and walks away.

“Now it's a party.” A rough voice says, and you soon recognize the owner.

“Killer.” You greet him with a smile and a quick hug. “Nice to see you'll be here to have my back. Who else is here?”

“Deadshot is arguing with a soldier. Diablo is seated in some corner whining.” He smiles, gesturing at his left. “Long time no see. How's life?”

“Life's fine. As fine as it could be.” You start walking over where Deadshot is, watching as the soldier rolls his eyes. Floyd is gesticulating a lot, which means he's pissed.

“I won't have it like it was the last time. Now go, be a good puppy and tell this to your boss.” He says, turning his back at the man. “Havoc. Hi.” He says, exchanging a glance with Killercroc. “Ready for another stupid mission?”

“It's not like we have a choice, right? I–”

“Listen up, assholes! Your dirty things are in these boxes. So change and let's get the hell out of here. You have five minutes.” A man shouts, and everyone rolls their eyes.

You make your way to your things, and as you expected, your box is filled with your old clothes. All in shades of lilac, purple and pink. As usual, the soldiers just stand around you, not caring too much, as you change. You never liked that. Harley doesn't seem to care, and many eyes lay on her. But you do care. And you care a lot more now.

“Guys. A little help?”

Floyd and Killer grab some of the dark plastic bags that lie on the the floor, as you take a dark purple sleeveless jumpsuit. You move to stand near a wall, and the guys turn their backs at you, holding the bags high so you're shielded from anyone's eyes. They did the same on the first time, and you're very thankful for that.

“Thanks, guys. I'm done.” You tell them, fixing the jumpsuit on your body. The hard material makes you feel strong, like Havoc again.

“You're welcome.” Killer says.

“To the trucks! Now!” A man barks and you have no choice but to do as he says.

All of you go in the back of one of the trucks, together. Harley seems to be the only one excited about it, since she's trying to flirt with a soldier named Tom. You wonder what Joker would think about that. Oh. He's stuck on a bed for the rest of his life. He won't be saying anything, you bet.

As you move through the town, you can't help but think about what you did before leaving the house. The kiss. You can't believe you actually kissed him. What in hell were you thinking? You're very brave to do such a crazy thing like that. And you should've at least stayed to see his expression. To see if he was mad or not. But even if he didn't like it, you trust him enough to know he won't break his promise. He still keep helping you after you beat him up twice, so it's not a peck in the lips that will make him change his mind.

Being sure of this is a weird feeling. Your head is so much clearer now, you're not as scared as you were. And you're liking who you're becoming. This mission is just a inconvenience. It'll be over and you'll head back to the house, back to the way of getting a real life. A good life, a life you'll actually enjoy having.

You stop suddenly, and you're ordered out of the truck. “There's a small group here. Eyes open. They might have put mines here so... Don't blow up.”

You get two guns, one in your hand as you walk the perimeter. Harley stays close to Tom, but it doesn't bother you. You walk near Killercroc and Floyd, your head too far from this place.

“Hey.” Floyd elbows you. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I'm just... Thinking.” Shrugging your shoulders, you need to focus on being casual. “How's you daughter?”

“She's great. Best student of her class and she's in a hella good school. The best of Gotham.” He looks at the sides, making sure nobody is too close. Killercroc is a few steps ahead and he doesn't really care about these stuff anyways. “You will never guess who put her there. And also guaranteed her a good University, any one she chooses.”

“That's freaking amazing, Floyd. Who did all that?” It couldn't be Amanda. She's not that good.

“Batman.” The mention of Bruce makes you blush, your heart aching from his absence. You look down, running a hand through your hair.

“Batman? In like the man you hate with all your strength?”

“How can I hate someone who does that for my kid? No, no. I respect him. Even admire him now, doing this after I tried to kill him half a dozen times.”

“Floyd, he's...” You need to let out out your chest, and having someone to talk about it would be nice. And you know you can trust Floyd, even more now that his hate for Bruce is gone. So the words roll out your tongue in a whisper as you both stop walking. “...Batman is the one helping me... Rehabilitating me.”

“Oh. So the rumors are true. I knew they took you somewhere else, just didn't know where.”

“You two. Walk.” Someone says and you start moving again.

“Yes, he... I'm going well. I...” Floyd looks down at you, raising one eyebrow. “He said it was mostly just me, but he did help. He treated me with kindness, believed me. I don't know how to explain but I'm different.”

“I did notice something was off with you. But I'd never guess.”

“Really? I was trying to keep it cool.” As you speak, three man come from the corner, immediately shooting at you. You duck behind a car, peaking just enough to lay eyes on them and aim. But they're easily put down without you having to shoot.

“All clear!” Harley says, smiling.

“So...” You continue when you start walking downtown again. “I didn't want to come, but he promised me it would be the last time.”

“Uhm... He's making promises?”

“Yes.” You don't get his tone. “He's very kind to me. Unlike anyone else... He even threw me a birthday party.”

“Happy birthday by the way, and sorry it's a little late.” You turn the corner, carefully at first. “How kind?”

“Kind.” What else can you say? That his touch is so soft, so gentle that you couldn't help but fall in love with him? “He... Cares. I think.”

“You fell for him.” Floyd bursts out, and it's not even a question. It's an affirmative. How did he get there so fast?

But you're fast to dissimulate. “What? No.”

“It's called Stockholm Syndrome.”

“It's not like that!” You exclaim. “You know I've been kidnapped before. Twice by the Joker, who kept me hostage for five months... I did spent three of them just to play tricks on his mind and get some of his money but you get what I mean. Batman didn't held me hostage. He spoke to me, helped me get clean of the drugs they used to give me at Belle Reve, he... He won't let the door locked anymore. He wants me to be able to live in society again.”

“I was teasing you. But since you went into great lengths to defend your relationship with him... You did fell for him.”

“Shut up, Floyd.” You mutter, too much on your head. Increasing your pace, you reach Killer, walking beside him.

Your feelings are pretty clear, as much as you don't want to admit it. And hear it like that just makes it even worse. The kiss... All you think is about that kiss you shouldn't have given.

You're thankful when the action starts, because you have something else to focus on. It doesn't resumes in shooting, you eventually get into hand to hand combat. And you can deal with it pretty well. Of course, it's easier because the guys have your back. You guess they somehow noticed you have no pleasure on doing this anymore. Diablo, as usual, doesn't participate much.

When you stop, hours later, you feel your body complaining a little, but you know it'll get worse. But you also know you can deal with that. And you will, because this time you have somewhere nice to return to.

The commotion goes on for a couple of days. It gets messy, and it only gets worse when the granades start falling from the skies. You're all bruised up again, but not as bad as you were in the hell hole. How is it possible that you're in the middle of a war and you're not as much hurt as you were inside a prison?

As you approach the terrorists base, things get worse, and even the soldiers seem to get anxious. So that means they're extra evil to you. One of them denied you a bottle of water, what made Killercroc almost get his head blown out for arguing with the man. That reminds you that you don't have an explosive this time, but the soldiers told you they will put a bullet through your head if you try anything. But they can rest their minds because the only thing you want is to end this soon.

A week later, the soldiers decide to settle for the night, and push you into a half destroyed house. Harley uses all the hot water, so you have to endure the cold. But it feels good to clean up, and you can take a look at your wounds. A few cuts and purple bruises, nothing you can't deal with. The only bad part of the times you stop to rest a little before start moving again, is that your mind involuntary floats back to Bruce. You can't help it, everything comes back. When he left his gala to dance with you, the dreams, the birthday surprise, the kiss... Why can't you take this man out of your head?

You're alone in a room where half of the wall is down. The others are downstairs, but you want to be alone. You can see the stars from here, and you wonder if Bruce is staring at them too. “Hey, freak.” A soldier comes in, throwing a small radio at you, that looks like a very rustic cellphone. “Someone wants to speak to you. You have five minutes.”

Watching as he leaves, you lie back on the floor, approaching the radio from your ear and mouth. You know who it is, and your stomach goes crazy, with a thousand butterflies flying around.

“Hi.” He answers. “How are you?”

His voice is so familiar, like home. “I'm surviving. Enduring. Just want this to be over soon.”

“It will. And you'll be back here.”

“I hope so... We're near their base now. So only a couple of days more and we'll reach it. Take them down.” You close your eyes, hoping that his voice will be enough to make you dream of him tonight. You would give anything to have him here... Or to be back home. You mean, back at his house. “How's everything there?" Stupid question, he's fine, everything is fine.

“It's weird not to have you here.”

A smile comes to your lips. “Is it?” You whisper, taking a deep breath. You're scared you'll lose control, and the words will roll out your tongue. “Our time is almost over but... Thank you, I... It's good to speak to you.”

“Just remember I'm waiting for you.” You hear his heavy breath, as if he's suffering too, tired, exhausted.

Then you hear a little static, and you know he's gone... There's a weight on your chest and you can't help but let a single tear roll down your cheek. You keep the radio near your face, as if you could hold Bruce with a little longer. “I miss you so much.” You say, barely recognizing your weak voice.

“I miss you too.” The sudden answer scares you, your eyes widened.

“I- I thought you hanged up.”

“No, I'm still here. And I miss you very much, sweetheart.”

The pet name makes you lose it, and now you're crying. “Bruce, I–”

“Time's up, Havoc.” The soldier comes back, hand reached out. “Say goodbye to your protector.”

“I gotta go. I... I miss you.” You burst out before another sentence, far more dangerous, leaves your lips. You give the man the radio back, curling up on the floor, bracing yourself.

From tomorrow, you'll fight harder. You need to go back.

• • •

“Their base–” The soldier who announces is shot in the throat, right beside you. You're duck behind the barricades, waiting for the big guns to arrive. You cannot approach with the risk of being blown up, and they're not allowed to spend you just yet.

“That's it. Shoot to kill, that's an order.” The commandant yells, and the bodies start dropping faster. But not from your gun. You keep aiming for their knees, but another bullet always finds the man you leave collapsed on the floor. “Are you deaf, slut?” He barks at you, leaving his post and pulling you up by the shoulders. “Don't you think you can trick me just because the Bat took you into his wings. Do what you do best and kill those terrorists.”

“I don't kill, sarg.” You tell him, making your way back to your post. But the grabs your arm violently, squeezing right on a wound you got. You groan, trying to pull away.

“You don't kill? Nice try. You will do as I say!” He yells right to your face, and you can feel his disgusting breath. But you won't back down, and you won't take a life just because he told you to.

“I don't kill.” You repeat, standing as tall as you can, head up raised up to look the man in the eye.

His gun makes sudden contact with your face, in the apple on the right cheek. Your head jerks to the side, and you're knocked down, a sharp pain spreading through the skull.

“Hey! Leave her alone!” Killercroc comes running, and you see through the corner of your eyes as he engages in a fight with the man.

You're done here. Crawling away from the fight, you hide yourself behind a building, seated on the floor and resting your back against the wall. They seem to be dealing with that very well, so they don't need you. You're tired of fighting, tired of being in pain.

“Havoc?” Floyd calls, startling you a little. “Are you ok? Your cheek is–”

I'm (Y/N). “Yes, I'm ok. But I'm not going back there.”

“You'll have to tell them you're feeling unwell or else–”

“I don't care, ok? I just need to go back home. I'm sick and tired of this shit.” You burst out.

“Home?” He questions, not seeming too excited to head back to the battlefield.

“Yeah, just... I'm confused, I'm hurt. I'm not thinking straight.”

“I have to head back. Sorry.”

Nodding, you close your eyes, taking in the explosions and shooting. The only thing you want is peace now, silence... Bruce's arms. A heavy, cold rain starts falling, and you're soaking wet in a matter of seconds. Your head spins around, and you lie down, eyes closed tight.

Suddenly, you're pulled into a heavy sleep.

• • •

“Lucky bitch. We should be taking her back to where she belongs.” A rough voice wakes you up, and you sit up, eyes opening slowly. You're in a truck, in the back, on the metal floor. Your hands are tied by huge metal handcuffs, that cover both hands, reaching the middle of your forearm. It's heavy.

“Let's teach her a lesson. Just like old times.” A man say, and you recognize two out of six, both were your guards in Belle Reve.

“Don't leave too many bruises. She'll be with Batman in ten minutes, he'll notice.”

Ten minutes... You're going back. This truck in taking you back. Lowering your head, you smile, breathing deeply.

“She was with the Task Force. He'll think she got them there.”

“Fine then.” You're pulled back, a dark, heavy fabric covering your head. “This is just to remind you of who you are, Havoc.”

“And to give you a nice memory of home.”

The beating starts, and your body easily collapses to the floor again. But you're lifted up, again and again. You should fight. You should do something, but you can't. You're not the superpowerful girl you thought you were. You break too, and you get hurt. And you are hurt, with countless cuts and wounds through your body. When you were high on whatever they gave you, you could keep moving. Now you can't. Being vulnerable, weak, feels awful, but there's just no strength in you. You just need to make it through the last ten minutes that separate you from home.

Home.

When exactly did the house became that?

Or is it Bruce? Is he the one becoming your home? Is it even possible? You hope it is.

@redwolf-7 @glitterypinkkitty @mybabyboytony @chipster-21 @agustdpeach @yaakimoon2 @chloe-skywalker

#imagine bruce wayne #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne x reader #batman imagine #imagine batman #batman x reader #ben affleck batman #justice league imagine

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lana-llama-in-pajamas · 2 years

Text

I posted 18 times in 2021

12 posts created (67%)

6 posts reblogged (33%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 0.5 posts.

I added 55 tags in 2021

#creepypasta - 8 posts

#ticcitoby - 7 posts

#masky - 7 posts

#hoodie - 6 posts

#creepypasta headcanon - 6 posts

#ticci toby - 5 posts

#fnaf security breach - 4 posts

#slenderman - 4 posts

#proxies - 4 posts

#creepypasta slenderman - 4 posts

Longest Tag: 47 characters

#not to be a robot furry dilf fucker on main but

My Top Posts in 2021

proxy drabble pt.3

brian thomas/hoodie

I don't care how cannon it is hoodie is gonna be the level headed one

Tallest too

Slender says timothy/masky is the leader but they all know Brian/hoodie is

Loves the resident evil games

Carries around a cop gun everywhere away from the manor

Admits to having matching timberlands with Tim

Probably listens to the studio killers and old big jazz

Quiet in either persona

If he was a animal he would be a capybara, gets along with almost everyone else

Oddly enough the one person that he hangs with the most outside of the proxies is Eyeless Jack. Both are quiet and reserved and tall.

The few things he is conscious about is his height and his ability to be level

Is the designated driver of the “proxy-mobile” Toby and Jeff call it

he doesn't pay too much attention to slender, only when he needs too

There's not much about him, might keep updating this page though, keep in tune

13 notes • Posted 2021-12-13 06:14:23 GMT

EYELESS JACK DRABBLES

Ok so hear me out I had a fever dream like that jacks full name was Eugene Owusu (like genesis Owusu) and he went to a medical school near where toby lives but he was like 24 when he was captured and sacrificed in the woods (like 2004)

Full name Eugene Owusu

Jamaican/American descent

Always wanted to be a doctor, now he's a personal one

Gets shit on by doctor smiley because he's technically a medical dropout

The most human about his feelings and needs

Was 6’2 now 6’6 which he thinks is funny

Has heats like a cat, will lock himself in his basement/living space/medical office for days and gorge himself to chill out and get too tired to be horny

Slender has tried to tell him that if he needed a partner for ‘relief’ he would get the proxies to find someone. Jack immediately will deflect and walk away in shame

Loves patching everyone up

Obviously this has caused opposite Florence nightingale syndrome a few times

He is very charming and kind

Proactively tries to not kill his victims

But has a few times begged the proxies to throw him down a dead body during his heats

Lets just say his fucked up demon mind saw it as a toy and food if you know what I mean

His favorite patients are the proxies and jane (their the calmest)

Uses Slenders blood as a healing substance

In his free time he likes to read physical books in the dusty library or clean it

Has a mini vengeance against Zalgo because he's sure he is the one he was sacrificed to

Close friends with Brian Liu and Jeff

17 notes • Posted 2021-12-19 07:49:50 GMT

Creepypastas saying things I hear at work✨

Toby- y’know I never really knew why my name is what it is

Masky- what does it matter

Toby- who the fuck looked at me and said “yeah name that fucker Tobias Erin”

Slenderman reading- probably your bitch of a father

19 notes • Posted 2021-12-14 06:28:00 GMT

steel wool why

why so

himbo and bimbo

25 notes • Posted 2021-12-22 06:48:36 GMT

proxy drabble pt.1

Let's start with the star child of the pasta mythos tobias eren rogers

I feel like with age all of our perspectives on the pastas changed dramatically from Jeff being like Edward from twilight mixed with a rawr xd vibe to now kinda being the joker on downer pills to me,crazy sure but more chill now that time has passed

But this is about tobes

I feel like he still has the physical appearance and slight mental capacity to a 17 year old boy but knows he's older in years of existence, I'll explain more in head cannons for the “magic” at work i guess

Cheerful ass

Is kind of like that guy at your workplace/school/college that looks dark and mysterious but then you hear him talk and you can already see him watching really loud jacksepticeye videos on full blast

For his cannon voice honestly i think david near my savior is spot on

The fluffy hair is from the fact the poor man can't groom himsellf super well

Lean body strength? Like he's always been skinny but now he has muscle on top

I dont think he likes anyone very much

Went out with clockwork but because she's very brash and prone to jeff like tantrums they broke up to save them both from a different type of insanity

Likes to be outside more than in on clear nights

Slender has to scold him though “I own a perfectly good house and you decide to sleep in a goddam tree like you're a raccoon! young man if you don't get in this manor right now and blah blah…blahh

I wanted to keep his mom alive to fill his story with more spice

Can speak phrases in german? Not well and can't remember what most mean

Bet you forgot this boy's 2nd gen german huh? Yeah one of the few things that stuck with me plus i love fanfics that divulge in it more so here

Loves those overly specific playlists on youtube now

Everyone makes this man handsome sooooo

Handsome and knows it. Will get with someone random just to prove it to the others

Bisexual? Just very straight vibes

Likes cats and raccoons

Waffles are just a comfort food, and like eggo waffles and dollar store frozen ones

40 notes • Posted 2021-12-09 08:55:57 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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heccapeach · 3 years

Text

Since it’s Valentines Day, I guess it’s time for me to share the fictional crushes I’ve had on characters throughout my life:

My Fictional Crushes Throughout History:

Shadow The Hedgehog

Shadow was the first fictional crush that I had as a kid and the one that I can mention at the top of my head with some bravery and expectation of confusion and humiliation from others. I guess after learning of his existence in Sonic Riders (my first Sonic game) and onwards into the Sonic series (and a bit of Smash), I started to develop a crush on Shadow thanks to his design and personality after learning more and more about him. I believe that his portrayal in Sonic X especially had an effect. I mean, I wasn’t the only one to have a fictional crush on Shadow, considering how many fan girls he’s had over the years.

Mephiles The Dark

And then after Shadow, I eventually developed a fictional crush on Mephiles from Sonic ‘06. I believe I was 12 or 13 at the time that I did. I’d say this one is even weirder than the Shadow crush. But if it wasn’t for my interest in Mephiles and well, Solaris as a whole, I probably wouldn’t have discover my interests in the sources that beings like Solaris is based off of, like biblical mythology and other forms of mythology, space-time itself, and the sun and the moon. Therefore, they have been an important and influential character to me as unique as that may be to others. Delving more into Solaris in ‘06, I started to believe that he wasn’t the true villain of Sonic ‘06 as he was an entity whose power was being misused in the wrong hands of a very desperate and selfish human. That being the Duke of Soleanna, who wanted to save his wife from whatever presumed death that she had by harnessing Solaris’ power over time itself and even find a way to give humanity the power of time-travel in order to correct their past mistakes which mind you, is a bullshit and an absolutely dangerous, selfish, and idiotic idea. Perhaps one of the worst ideas I have ever heard in my life. Humanity absolutely does not deserve to be in possession of such abilities at all, PERIOD. Imagine all the recklessness, greed, bickering, fights, and just flat-out stupidity. Ugh, you’re just giving humanity the ability to not only make more mistakes, but potentially worsen their past mistakes. LIKE, WHAT THE HELL WAS HE THINKING?!?! I mean, when you learn that, it’s absolutely no fucking wonder why Solaris got all pissed and went batshit crazy throughout space-time. I mean, I would’ve too if some fucking idiot tampered with my power and form like that. And it didn’t help that Eggman was obliviously trying to repeat the same stupid action that the Duke did. I swear mad scientists tend to be the true evil and the creator of evil in existence. They’re one of the archetypes that do a great job at pissing me off. Well, they’re not called “mad” for nothing.

Solaris is just a misunderstood entity who just needed better guidance and treatment in existence. It’s why I even imagined the possibility of Solaris being saved and given a better chance towards redemption and understanding. After their backstory, I felt so sympathetic towards them as a character. Sure, Mephiles plan could’ve made more sense in the script by being less convoluted and more simple in the script alongside the time-travel plot itself, but we can’t forget that ‘06 was indeed rushed in development so it’s no surprise that writing for the game’s story was also rushed and didn’t have enough time for some scenes and decisions to be reconsidered.

But regardless, Solaris holds a special place in my heart and the inspiration they have given me has been a gift. So even if they’re outside of the existence of the Sonic universe, I shall never forget about them.

Crazy Hand

There was a time where I got really interested in Master Hand and Crazy Hand from Super Smash Bros. After discovering Crazy Hand’s existence in Melee, I suddenly started watching more videos featuring him and Master Hand, even if it was the same few videos. Like I was deeply analyzing the two hands in action. I was so fascinated, yet pretty intimidated by them. I believe that Crazy Hand had fascinated me the most, given the way of how he parallels Master Hand and his personality. Then all of a sudden, I started crushing on him...How utterly weird of me to be crushing on a giant floating disembodied hand of chaos and destruction....

Daxter

Daxter was my top favorite character of the Jak and Daxter series. Not to mention how much the series is a childhood icon to me. I also loved the design of ottsels/precursors. It inspired me in terms of anthro designs. I know, I’m pretty much a furry at this point with these crushes. I guess that I can now relate to Tess, who eventually became an ottsel/precursor just to officially be Daxter’s girlfriend.

Joker (P5)

Back when he was announced to be included as a fighter for Smash Ultimate. It was my first exposure to Joker and Persona 5 itself. And back when his Smash fighter self was still in development, I felt interested enough to research Joker then eventually look into Persona 5. I started to adore his design and silent protagonist self. His fluffy looking hair, glasses, phantom thief design, and personality, and that smile made me develop a crush on him. He’s pretty much the only fictional human character that I had a crush on out of all the crushes here and that’s saying something.

A Fan-made Genderbend Waifu Nightmare From Kirby

Okay....how the hell do I explain this..? So back when I had a peak interest (and fear) in one of the most underrated Kirby characters and final bosses, Nightmare, I looked up fan art of him and discovered this sorta genderbend waifu interpretation of him on the Internet. I was interested in the design, enough to make an original character of mine have their design inspired off of it and that’s mainly where my crush was targeted on. Knowing that this had to do with Nightmare from Kirby of all characters, this is perhaps the weirdest and most embarrassing crush of them all. This would just be the beginning of me getting invested into oneiric (dream) characters.

NiGHTS

When I was starting to really invest into the NiGHTS universe and NiGHTS themselves, I started to appreciate their design and personality to the point where I found it attractive and relatable at times. This crush hasn’t been a constant nor lasting one though, so I see it as a small crush instead.

Wizeman and My Own Fan-made Gender Bend Waifu Parallel of Him, “Wize-Chan”

Ah jeez, here we go again. So, um, like Nightmare, I had a notable interest in Wizeman as a character and was also greatly intimidated by them at the same time. I eventually started thinking that he was a bit cute in the first game. Seriously, why I do I eventually develop crushes on the same characters that I get scared of? Am I a psychological masochist or have Stockholm Syndrome or something? In order to ease my fear, I made the jokes on this platform on Wizeman and the other NiGHTS characters. Sometimes, fear can be a great motivator and that already scares me alone. One of those jokes involved redesigning Wizeman as a Waifu named “Wize-Chan”:

When humanizing the design, I wanted to maintain the surrealism of Wizeman’s design, so I made sure not to humanize it too much. That’s why the shadowy legs are phantom-like and the robe acts more like a cloak than a robe with a presumed shadowy phantom body underneath. Probably think of it how Darkrai from Pokémon has these slim legs that it can make to stand on something. Idk. Jokes aside, I felt that this was an embarrassing thing to make. But recently, I’ve looked back on the design and I started to develop a fondness over it. She was just too adorable to ignore. It motivated me to draw more of her and establish a personality. She still maintains Wizeman’s personality and god complex, but with a tsundere touch to it. She also uses the insult “degenerate” occasionally since I imagined Wizeman in Journey of Dreams using it. (Example: “Eh? You want me to step on you? Ugh, DEGENERATE.”) She can get accused of being a furry, but she gets offended and denies it. There’s never a place for violence in a relationship, but Wize-Chan differs. I suppose Wize-Chan here can be compared to Bowsette, since it’s taking a villain and turning them into a Waifu character. You could look at it that way if you wanted to. Wize-Chan also likes to bully Owl whenever she gets the chance.

Speaking of Owl, I recently designed a Waifu form of him—

Arceus

Just a little bit. It was a minor crush. Afterwards I changed my mind and started seeing them as a mother figure instead. I like to refer to them as “mom”, “mommy”, “Mama Llama”, "o-ka'a-san" (Japanese for mom), and “Mother”. Arceus just naturally feels like a mother figure to me, as weird as that sounds. I mean, it makes sense, considering that they’re Pokémon God and God is always interpreted as referring to his creations as his children. That’s been interpreted the same for Arceus. I mean, it’s okay for your mother or father to be your valentine, right? That, and why am I so invested in creator entities/deities so much?

So over the years, I’ve had fictional crushes on 1 anthropomorphic artificial hedgehog with alien DNA, an anthropomorphic otter and weasel hybrid that also belongs to a race of ancient beings that run the universe as its god, a sun god of time, a giant floating disembodied hand that’s the destructive god of the Smash universe, Pokémon God itself until I started seeing it as my Pokémon mother, a Waifu form of a personification of nightmares, a disobedient nightmaren then eventually just their creator as well as a Waifu parallel of him, and 1 human..huh.

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shadowtarot · 3 years

Note

A few days passed and Ryuji discovers the Nyx cult... and also the "killing hotline" Strega used. If Ryuji realizes that the Phansite and the killing hotline as something was similar. - Chariot's Mystery.

Chariot’s Mystery Part 5

The data surrounding Gekkoukan in 2009 had been getting weirder and weirder the more Ryuji and Futaba looked at it. There was a supernatural phenomena that happened, they were sure of it.

But it’s connections to the Collective Unconscious were as of now...lose at best.

That is, until Futaba and Ryuji decided to do a joint dig that Sunday. Using a private streaming program made herself, she shows Ryuji what she’s digging through in real-time.

“How soon before we tell Ren and the others?” Ryuji asks, lazily watching as Futaba combs through source after source.

“We can’t band the team together on this until we find something that’s an actual active threat. Or if we get threatened ourselves and are forced to band up again.” Futaba responds, not even looking at her webcam as she speaks.

Slumping in his seat a bit, Ryuji lets out a sigh. “I mean I guess you have a point. Most of this shit seems to be in the past, right?”

Suddenly, something flashes on the screen for a few moments. “Whoa wait, Futaba go back three pages.”

Reversing back, a page loads detailing some strange rumors of a cult.

“Cult of Nyx?” Futaba reads out loud. “Sounds creepy.... why’d you want to look at this crummy thing?”

“Give it a scroll, something tells me we might hit a jackpot here.” Ryuji states.

The detailing of this cult seem to imply worship of a being known as Nyx and how it will bring people salvation. The way it was phrased and written seem to feel all too familar.

“Search keywords for this cult...for like...news articles.” Ryuji sits upright in his seat again.

Futaba begins a new scan and reveals newspapers that talk about the cult, showing images of graffiti and like all in preparation for the coming of Nyx.

It also shows who the leader of the cult...

“That guy doesn’t look trustworthy at all..” Futaba states. “Then again, he’s a cult leader. You’re not gonna be winning any trust awards for this.”

“So...we have people suffering from some shit called Apthay Syndrome, a weird ass club at Gekkoukan called S.E.E.S. that no longer exists...and a cult that formed. All within the same year.” Ryuji folds his arms.

“You know Ryuji...I have a working theory.” Futaba states. “What if...all this does involve the CU? They coulda cross-referenced the brief time you appeared on the screen for the calling card, and put you in Gekkoukan for monitoring..”

“Why though?” Ryuji responds. “It’s not like I can do shit if I’m not in the Metaverse...”

“They may not know that...if what Doctor Maruki said is true, then our methods of exploring the Collective Unconscious weren’t the only way you could become a Persona user. Stay on guard at all times...I showed you the faces of the people from 2009...the ones from ‘S.E.E.S.’. Treat them like you would a cop. You don’t speak unless they get in contact with Joker.” Futaba’s tone is nervous, yet serious all the same.

“I’m not about to leak our team’s operations.”

With that, the call soon ends.

“...I have school tomorrow. I gotta get some rest while I can.”

#compendium #chariot's mystery #persona 5 #persona 3

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wolf-heart1197 · 3 years

Note

MASS EFFECT DS9 CROSSOVER PLEASE SHARE SOME THOUGHTS

You have. Opened a can of worms, friend.

WELL.

Ok so as far as set up i was picturing like. Wormhole/space magic shenanigans bringing the Normandy to DS9, set somewhere during that little window after Shep and Co. return from the Suicide Mission at the end of 2, but before Shep turns themself in to the Alliance.

The Normandy, badly damaged, limping up to this mysterious space station theyve never seen or heard of before, don't even recognize the outline or architecture, but hey at least they seem to be friendly? And they're offering to help fix our ship and get us back where we need to be so I guess they aren't all bad?

So then Shep and crew are stranded on DS9 for at LEAST a couple weeks while they try to get the Normandy fixed up, and allllll the shenanigans the respective crews get into, especially once they start interacting with each other

-There's the obvious of course, Shepard and Sisko would get along fantastically, I think. Both the leaders of crews of mixed bags, sometimes trying to get them to work together is like herding cats. Strong cats with guns and opinions, but at the end of the day they really are kind of a family, aren't they?

-Both are able to understand what was supposed to be one (relatively) simple mission turning into way more lives at stake than they signed up for (Shep with. Well. The entire events of the trilogy, but then Sisko too. Bring Bajor into the Federation. Thats it, that was the mission, but suddenly we're at war with a frankly stronger superpower from another quadrant and suddenly one station is supposed to be the head of it all? The pressure. The lives at stake if they fail. Yeah.)

As for the rest of the crew:

-The next obvious, I think, would Grunt and Worf. Very different methods and cultures, obviously. I'm not saying they'd necessarily GET ALONG even, but there'd be a mutual respect there, I think. Both coming from warrior races, fighting is in their blood, its what they know. And theyre both outsiders to their own culture, being raised primarily if not exclusively by Someone Else, having to fight for their right to have a place amongst their own people. There's a shared strength in that.

-Mordin and Garak, and their shared past as spies. Garak's penchant for lying with every other word out of his mouth vs Mordin's tendency to only say about half of the words in his sentences, each trying to weasel the truth out of the other. Each at the very least recognizing that theyve done horrible things in their past, but not necessarily having regrets for them. Well, no regrets they're willing to admit to.

-BUT THEN ALSO Mordin and Jadzia, really just. Best Science Bros. Mordin can be extremely focused, which I think might turn Jadzia off of him at first, up until she catches him singing under his breath while he works. And once their discussions start trending more towards the importance of art and culture alongside scientific advancement is when they really start to shine together. Also I think Mordin would be absolutely FASCINATED by the Trill, the symbiotic relationship and the symbiont carrying memories across hosts, how the symbionts and hosts merge, etc. Nothing like that really exists in the ME universe

-Julian and Dr. Chakwas could talk some about medicine, certainly, barring nothing else about the differences in their respective medical technology. But I think ultimately she would get tired of his attitude, and he would decide she didn't really have anything new to teach him.

-Julian, I think, would be much more interested in spending time with EDI and Legion. I mean, consider how he was in the one TNG episode, when he got to meet Data? He would be over the moon especially for a chance to study legion. The Geth Collective is genuinely an interesting idea, and I think he would be fascinated by the varrying levels of simulated intelligence, but without individuality. EDI would be an interesting study, because this would be before she got the mech body, so she would still for all intents and purposes "be" the Normandy. A ship as a living entity? With emotional attachment to the crew inside? Absolutely fascinating. And if it were a bit alter on that this happens? She has wants! And fears! Absolutely fascinating!

-Dr. Chakwas, on the other hand, would probably end up spending her time with Keiko O'Brien. Swapping stories about their times being forced to be on the relative sidelines, having to watch all the horrible things their loved ones are constantly dealing with and only being able to do so much. Keiko's exasperation with Miles and Chakwas' with Joker. (And Shepard). Plus really i just like to imagine them having tea together ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

-Kira Thane and Mordin I can picture spending hours upon hours deep in discussion, about ethics and morality and religion, and how the hell you're supposed to reconcile it all when you have so much darkness in your past.

-Kira and Thane, especially, have a lot to talk about. Kira fighting in the resistance her whole life vs Thane being raised as a living weapon, both deeply spiritual and refusing to believe that their respective peaces are denied to them, that they can still find their own redemption and make up for their pasts.

-Joker would spend a lot of time trying to avoid Julian, who I think would be very insistent on wanting to study his Vrolik's syndrome, and possibly trying to cure it. Joker really Does Not Like Him.

-Tali would inevitably spend a lot of time together with Miles, because assumedly they'd be working on fixing the Normandy together (when Miles isnt busy trying to fix one of DS9's 50 million other problems). I don't know that they'd honestly have much in common aside from engineering-related stuff, but they're both geniuses in their respective versions of their fields and comparing the 2 universe's technologies alone could take more discussion time than they would have.

-I don't think Jack would. Actually try to get along with anyone. I see her spending the vast majority if her time camping out in a holosuite trying to program it to let her kill simulations of everyone she's pissed at.

-Miranda and Julian. The two genetically engineered kids. Yeah there'd be a lot to talk about there. Parent drama? Feeling like you have something to prove?? Trying to find the "you" underneath the genetic tampering??? Yeah they'd get along.

-Ok hear me out on this but. I really think Garrus and Garak would end up having a lot in common. I mean, think about it: Cardassian military/goverment/cultural structure compared to the Turians? Love of state above all else, everything is for the State (but then family above even that). And on a more personal level? Getting into a profession, a LIFE, to impress your father and then it still isn't good enough, nothing will ever be good enough, so you keep trying and going to more and more extremes to be good enough and still nothing matters. And you haven't given up on your people, no, never, but they sure have seemed to give up on you, in a way, haven't they? Exiled (Garak), ignored at every turn (Garrus), but hey, here's this one human at least that'll listen to you, and maybe even help you where others won't, so maybe things aren't all bad? Garak lies through his teeth at every turn, Garrus knows this, but he knows where to pick up the specs of truth, too.

-Jacob, bless his soul, gets roped into "babysitting" Jake and Nog. Jake distracts him by taking advantage of his chill exterior, just long enough for Nog to set off chaos halfway across the station. Cue montage of Jacob chasing the boys up and down the Promenade.

...that's all I got I am. Definitely willing to discuss more/get add-ons to this/hear other people's ideas!!!

Man this got long ajxhahavxhs

#mass effect #star trek #star trek ds9 #ive been thinking about this since like. november #mass effect is my favorite vg series and i love ds9 w my entire soul so #plus mass effect seems to have taken a lot of inspiration from star trek in interesting ways which. isnt surprising #long post #wolfie gets an ask

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kneamet · 3 years

Text

Angel of cards (11/16)

Trigger Warning: no.

Summary: Joker, Mr. J, anarchist psychopath, Tom Hiddleston. He had many nicknames. Joker was Gotham’s most dangerous and insightful man, with sharp makeup and horribly memorable scars on his face in the form of a smile. He was absolutely crazy and deadly. No one knows his real identity and everyone is afraid of his cruel jokes. But what happens when he becomes obsessed with an ordinary girl?

She belongs to him. No one can take her away from him. Even The Batman.

Chapter eleven: time

"Who's here?" a strong male voice shouted softly. Bruce began to look around slowly, cautiously, through the open windows. The building looked abandoned, which was strange. Abandoned rear in the city center?

He frowned, and people jumped into his eyes. Men tied with a frayed pale rope. They were almost naked. The only thing that made them stand out was their blindfolded eyes and their mouths covered with black tape. They were dressed in the simple white T-shirts that are usually worn under their clothes. They were also distinguished by shorts with black and green shades.

Bruce leaned over and squatted down, giving the men another cursory glance. What are they doing here?

He touched his cheek, which had been cut by a small cut, and pulled back the black tape that prevented him from speaking.

"What happened?" in a steely voice, not without compassion, Bruce said stoutly, his brow furrowing even more.

He saw how the man wanted it, and it was the guy, trying to breathe in as much air as possible. It seems that they were chained up like this not so long ago.

"They took the guns," he said in a quick but clear voice, and then, in a rush, as if he didn't want to be gagged again, he added, "and the uniform."

Bruce pursed his lips and nodded to himself, blinking a couple of times. He stood up, smoothing and tightening his jeans. He turned around and saw the target that was going to be shot at.

Wayne frowned and moved closer to the window. He looked out and then suddenly recoiled. You can see it here.

***

"And accepting this man's sacrifice..." a grown man spoke loudly into the microphone, leaning on the counter with his hands. He spoke cheerfully, steadfastly, and very clearly. What can I do here-the work is mandatory.

The mayor of Gotham City was dressed in an ordinary blue suit with a red tie. Very pretty. The Joker had read somewhere that blue inspired confidence. Or was it white? Or is it still green? It doesn't really matter.

The Joker licked his lips, feeling the unpleasant scars on his face again. He stifled a growl. Terrible scars, he wants to remove them so badly.

But now, playing a simple but trained police officer, he should not think about this. However, looking at the mayor of Gotham did not cause any pleasure at all. And his speech, already prepared, did not arouse any interest at all.

The Joker sighed imperceptibly. Oh, to spend time with his favorite angel right now. She would definitely listen to him and help him cope with his thoughts. How he wanted to go to her.

So pure,so immaculate, so virgin, and so entirely his own. I wonder if his angel understands that he loves her with all his vicious and terrible life.

She is his light, his meaning of life! The man who supports him all the time! Oh, how pleased he is that his angel does not pay attention to his scars... Like an angel.

How the Joker now wanted to see her appearance again, even for a couple of seconds, to talk to her... but this wasn't the time. You need to think about the case.

In general, the Joker did not particularly like it. He didn't feel very emotional about having to go without makeup. No, without makeup, he can only be in the presence of his angel. There is no other option. People are not worthy of his attention. They are too unrequited and vicious.

"...we must remember that vigilance is the price of safety, " the dark-haired mayor of the city continued to speak stoutly and forcefully. The Joker wanted to groan. Well, wasn't it boring? The people who were here now, weren't they bored? And why gather such a huge number of people?

Well, now would be his time. It's time to get ready to shoot the mayor of this city. Everything should go according to plan. Which is there, but which is not.

"Get ready. Guard, " the man commanded loudly into the microphone. Chief military officer. How nice and who is he by rank?

The Joker hadn't seen him, and he could only guess. The voice was loud, clear, and very pleasant. He sounded very melodic, so we can assume that it was more of a grown-up guy, and not some old grandfather.

"Attention. On the chest." no, damn it, on the face. Right now, all the Joker wanted was to be close to his angel.

So does Tom, it seems.

"Get ready! Aim!" Fire! " the soldier ordered, and the Joker's henchmen immediately obeyed the order. It seems that he should say this once or twice more and it will be fashionable to launch an attack.

The Joker gave his "team"a cursory glance. He didn't like that they weren't ready, how could he be so unprepared for such events? The mayor of Gotham is dying, and no one cares? This is, in principle, and logical, people very often do not care about other people. He'd learned the hard way. The Joker also did not quite like the mood and goals of his henchmen. Fools. All.

"Get ready! Aim! " the man said again, nodding his head. It was because of the slight change in his voice, which became normal after a second.

The Joker chuckled as he noticed that one of his subordinates had already fired. The bloody mess is about to begin.

***

"So, you're the best angel of the Joker?" an unknown voice asked in a clarifying tone, lightly smacking pink and mint gum.

Blake's body immediately tensed. Who is it? She quickly opened her eyes and ran a hand through her soft brown hair, bringing her hands down to join them on her chest.

With a piercing gaze, she looked at the man who was sitting on the chair in front of her, chewing gum. She sighed. I think it's bubblegum.

She quickly examined it. Cute. A hundred times more beautiful than the Joker. Ugh. She twisted her face slightly. It is unpleasant to think of such a vile person. Although it is difficult to call him a person.

"Why are you grimacing, Princess?" smacking his lips and winking slightly, the man asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm not a Princess," hissed the girl, maintaining the piercing gaze of the man.

"You're perky," he said, smiling. "I'm Robert, by the way," he said, stroking his black hair. Soft black hair.

The girl looked at the man with disbelief in her eyes. He didn't inspire much confidence in her, but right now she needed a distraction. Spending time with the Joker will not lead to anything good.

She had hoped so much that she wouldn't have Stockholm syndrome.

"I'm ... Blake."

***

"So it turns out that as long as my body is without makeup, I can use it, right?" the little boy asked, sitting down on a wooden chair and starting to swing his legs.

He looked up at the scarred man with the green hair. He didn't always inspire much confidence in him, but he was an excellent conversationalist and a person who would listen. He just smiled and stroked the boy's white curly hair, lightly wrapping the curls around his gloved hands.

"Almost, my dear boy, almost. However, remember that I can appear and conquer with your body if you are angry. Even if you're not wearing makeup, " the man whispered sweetly but slightly menacingly, just smiling.

Why did you believe him, little Tommy?

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