bataranged

billybogshank  asked:

* A TV-Headed apparition appears in a shiver of static, floating serenely at eye-level with The Disco-Douche, head titled inquisitively to the side as they regard the boogieman skeptically, given a strong impression of arched eyebrows, despite having no visible eyes.* "Oi, Disco, I've been thinking, and I'm wondering if you've thought this little scheme of yours through? See, if you 'putrefy this wretchedly lively world', what'll happen to everything Jon and ol' Batarang hold dear?"

YOU SUFFER FROM THE MISPLACED THINKING LIVING BEINGS LIKE YOU USUALLY SUFFER FROM. I AM NOT AN AGENDA, I AM AN INEVITABILITY. I AM THE FACT OF THE UNIVERSE OF THAT WHICH HAS BEEN BORROWED MUST BE RETURNED. FOR A FLEETING MOMENT YOU ARE AN ASSEMBLY OF LIFE, BUT YOU’RE ONE IN A LINE AND OTHER MOTHERFUCKERS NEED THEIR BODIES TOO. MY POWER TAKES BACK WHAT YOU OWE. BUT THE GAME OF LIFE AND DEATH IS NOT A CYCLE BUT A DOWNWARD SPIRAL. THIS UNIVERSE IS PARTYING ON BORROWED TIME. AND WHETHER I COLLECT NOW OR LATER MAKES LITTLE DIFFERENCE…BUT A FEW MILLENNIA MAKES A BEING IMPATIENT.

AND ‘SIDES. WHO NEEDS ANYONE OR ANYTHING ELSE WHEN I GOT WE~<3

Some random injury/wound headcanons!  Obviously none of these but one are canon because, well, just lookin’ at him in the movie tells you that lmao but w/e it’s my joker and lbr here someone who lives a life like his is probably super dinged up

1. His left eye was GRAZED by a BATARANG shortly after the murder of Jason Todd.  It was thrown with the intent to KILL but Joker managed to dodge juuust enough for it to only irreparably damage his eye.  Needless to say, his vision AIN’T what it used to be.

2. He’s the PROUD owner of a BAT BRAND on his back, just below his left shoulder.  Received in Arkham during a particularly INTENSIVE interrogation session during Batman’s hyperviolent period following Jason’s murder.

3. A chunk of CARTILAGE is missing from his right ear after a BOTCHED explosion.  Looks like Joker ain’t gonna be wearing any more of them STYLISH shades!  It HAS affected his hearing a bit, unfortunately.

4. Years of being PUMMELED by a costumed vigilante has cost him MOST of his teeth – as such, he’s replaced those he’s lost with SOLID METAL.  Said PUMMELING has also left him with a PERMANENT limp in his right leg.  Joker occasionally compliments it with a GAUDY cane, because of course he would.  Being the Joker, his cane ALSO serves another purpose in hiding a KNIFE in the handle.

5. DAMAGED tattooed on his forehead.  Not a tattoo he CHOSE but was rather FORCED on him.  One escape from Arkham left a FEW TOO MANY bodies in his wake and, upon his return, the guards thought to teach him a lesson.  Holding him down in a quiet corner of the asylum, they forcefully tattooed DAMAGED smack dab on his forehead and proceeded to beat him bloody.  He DIDN’T succumb to his wounds, unfortunately, and came to OWN his new ink as a part of him.

arcanaxcix  asked:

Basing off this theory (youtubeDOTcom/watch?v=kqC3JyyRb68) it's probable that Bruce's gem would be placed on his forehead or maybe the part of the head that's suppose to be between the top of your forehead & your hair? At first when adjusting to Earth with the JL & the Batfam, he doesn't care about it showing off LIKE SPOTLIGHT; but once he's got a deeper understanding(?) / use to Earth, he prefers hiding it behind his hair from most because he wants to be known for WHO he is, not WHAT he is

IS THAT WHERE HE CAN HIDE HIS FUCKING BATARANGS?

YOU THINK YOU CAN TAKE MY BELT AND I’M USELESS?!?!

*fished a fucking gun out of his head*

I WON’T HESITATE BITCH!

@believeinxtheimpossible

Terry sat the perfect vantage spot in jitters, having a birds eye view of the building across the street. He fiddled around on a laptop, mainly just occupying his time, waiting for the mark to step out. He had been sitting there for three days now, though curiously leaving before sundown. 

A story of the ‘ Batman’ of Central City played on a TV on the wall in front of him. It featured a distorted black and white video of a criminal running down and alleyway with a bag of money. The criminals bag was cut open by a Batarang. Money split out, reason ruined he opted to charge at the Batman. 

Batman ran in, sliding, knocking the crooks legs out from under him. He spun back around and leaped on the man as he tried getting up. The images got progressively blurry as the tape was damaged, so the stills were strips with white flashes. There was definite mentions of a beating, followed by the photo of the man, thoroughly beaten. 

BTW I never properly freaked out about Henry posting a pic of Ben the Bat’s birthday cake. Like, did he bake that himself? It looks like it could’ve been store bought but I’m not 100% sure. Also did he steal the Batarang from the props department or did he get that at a party store or something?

Most importantly: “I have two bats in my life” what does this mean Cavill!?! Does Ben the Affleck know about this? Do you talk about the Bat, did he get a piece of cake? Who did you share that cake with Henry?

Hallucinations(chapter 17) is now complete.

As always, dawn found him in the dark. The bats squeaked, the sound an easy symphony. Pieces of the suit lay scattered on the floor, red gouges on his skin. Blood dripped down, creating abstract patterns on the floor. Fingers slipped on the keys, an analysis running on the far left. To the right, an alert flashed, red and glaring, its sound muted.

The sound of footsteps on the stairs, a batarang embedding itself into the wall, strands of black hair falling.

Dick raised his hands, felt his hair and frowned.

“You could have just told me I needed a haircut,” he said, stepping into the cave. "Batarang haircuts are awful.”

He tugged at the strands, holding them up to the light for inspection. Bruce turned back to the computer, the analysis beeping. The alert was still flashing.

"Take a little off the ends and you’ll look fine,” he said.

Dick frowned and dropped the strands, stepping forward.

Clack

One of the armoured shoulder plates rolled away from his foot. He looked down at the pieces of the suit scattered across the floor, up at the way the cape was drawn tightly around Bruce’s shoulders.

“What happened,” he asked, quietly.

“Ivy,” Bruce growled, jabbing at the keyboard. The alert flashed again and he swiped it away, other hand scratching at his skin.

“She’s combined her pollen with fear toxin“

Blood dripped in the corner of his eye, glimpses of pale flesh burning and a laugh that seared through his soul. Heat on his skin, nails dipping into cuts and widening them further, Dick’s face twisting into Jason’s, his parents, his own.

The bats screamed as he fell backwards, chair crashing to the ground, the vine around his ankle yanking him upwards.

Rain sizzled on his the bare parts of his face, vines sliding away to leave him gasping on the ground. Bare skin met cold tile, wind blowing through the torn open ceiling. The cowl lay on his face, heavy and sticky.

He reached upwards, steel manacles branding themselves into his wrists, the sharp smell of burnt flesh. Hands slid up his legs, tugging at him, the friction burning.

"Finally, I have the Bat”

The voice from the bank, him.

A tongue flickering out to stab his skin, stab into him. The cowl yanked off and stuffed into his mouth. The sound of the zipper tearing itself open shattering his ears.

Pain

Water piercing his eyes, rising to fill him up and mixing with the fluid inside. Eyes closing, mouth opening to gulp down water, a slowing heartbeat.

Opening his eyes again to a dark sky lit with falling pieces of wood and traces of mad laughter on the wind.

He stepped through the wreckage, booted foot landing on a hand, smashed up bone jutting out of blackened flesh. Something landed on his head, hooking onto one of the cowl’s ears and dangling down; the Robin mask, frayed at the edges, pieces of skin stuck to the opposite side.

He dropped to his knees, the impact forcing his teeth together, held the mask in his hands and screamed.

The earth cracked open, the void swallowing him, eating away at his skin. His blood fell, eating away at the pile of bones beneath him, bat and human.

There was a man in front of him, wearing all black with a cape of blood, a white s on his chest.

"Your blood is tainted,” he said, “you are tainted.”

Cold metal in his hand, the batarang embedding itself into the man’s face, him breaking apart into bats that flew around.

His knees thumped onto wet cobblestones, the weight of a gun in his hands, the glint of light upon white, round beads in the dark, his fingers pulling the trigger. The gun dropped, his mother’s name and his own scream reverberating through him.

A still beating heart in his hands, the Joker’s body lying beside his. Jason and Barbara standing in front of him, arms crossed across their chests.

“There is one more person left,” they said in unison.

He looked up at the theatre in the distance, a showing of Zorro at 9pm, then at the alleyway around him. There were no bodies here. The gun was in his hands again, cold metal freezing his hands and weighing him down.

"The Bat was born here,” his voice muttered as he raised the gun, settling it just beneath his ribs. "The Bat shall die here.”

Fingers pulled the trigger, body falling backwards becoming rain. The sky ripped open, mirroring his skin; his own voice sobbing apologies, words blurring together, turning into light that dissolved him.

There was rain on his face, on the parts where cowl gave way to bare skin. The air smelled of freshly tilled earth and jasmine, cloying. He took a shallow breath, lungs stabbing and raised his head to look at Ivy.

Ivy stared back at him, wide-eyed. Her eyes flickered down, towards the gouges in his neck. Vines slid away from him, tangling over each other in an attempt to escape.

He got to his feet, ripping off the dangling skin at his wrists. Breathing abraded his throat and dried blood flaked off his hands.

"What happened to you?” Ivy whispered, stumbling back at the look in his eyes.

He stepped away from her, turning his back.

"You don’t need to know. “

The darkness closed its ranks around him as he walked away, footsteps a steady beat. Far behind him, Ivy’s plants drew closer as she shivered.

flowland-180 said: okay but: Bruce playing fetch with Krypto with a dull batarang and Krypto just not coming back with it and Bruce being kinda frustrated but “oh well at least Clark won’t find out” and when Clark is like “Bruce omg Krypto got a batarang somehow I’m so sorry” Bruce is just like “yes… somehow… no idea how….he can keep it i suppose….” 

sgfgsd that’s EXACTLY what I was thinking happened.

I just can’t get over the part in the justice league trailer where bruce throws a batarang at barry allen–it’s such a Ridiculously Efficient way to shortcut that entire potential conversation and it’s so clever and dramatic and it says so fuckin much about Bruce in so little time and I can’t…I’m just so impressed with everything about it. If that’s how they play his Reveal to barry in the actual movie (if it plays as shown in the trailer and isn’t just edited that way) then I’ll see the movie at least three times for that alone. The implications in the rest of the trailer that bruce tailors his appeal/Reveal to each of the people he tries to recruit in such subtly-but-impressive ways and just everything they show us instead of telling us/spelling it out has made me So Goddamn Hyped for this movie.

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@perspiicaci ❀ THE BATGIRL

Ivy almost had a right to be insulted. Not only does she get batarang’d by the ankles and strung upside down like a party favor– when she was legitimately minding her own business for once– it’s one of the Bat’s  w h e l p s  that does it!

Clearly Tall, Dark and Jawlined was losing his touch. Did he even train them anymore before sending them out to make fools of themselves?

Crossing her arms across her chest, Ivy levels her best glare in the cowled kid’s direction. “Wrong Rogue, Batpup. Now cut me down before you spend your prom pushing up daisies.”

As always, dawn found him in the dark. The bats squeaked, the sound an easy symphony. Pieces of the suit lay scattered on the floor, red gouges on his skin. Blood dripped down, creating abstract patterns on the floor. Fingers slipped on the keys, an analysis running on the far left. To the right, an alert flashed, red and glaring, its sound muted.

The sound of footsteps on the stairs, a batarang embedding itself into the wall, strands of black hair falling.

Dick raised his hands, felt his hair and frowned.

“You could have just told me I needed a haircut,” he said, stepping into the cave. "Batarang haircuts are awful.”

He tugged at the strands, holding them up to the light for inspection. Bruce turned back to the computer, the analysis beeping. The alert was still flashing.

"Take a little off the ends and you’ll look fine,” he said.

Dick frowned and dropped the strands, stepping forward.

clack

One of the armoured shoulder plates rolled away from his foot. He looked down at the pieces of the suit scattered across the floor, up at the way the cape was drawn tightly around Bruce’s shoulders.

“What happened,” he asked, quietly.

“Ivy,” Bruce growled, jabbing at the keyboard. The alert flashed again and he swiped it away, other hand scratching at his skin.

“She’s combined her pollen with fear toxin“

Blood dripped in the corner of his eye, glimpses of pale flesh burning and a laugh that seared through his soul. Heat on his skin, nails dipping into cuts and widening them further, Dick’s face twisting into Jason’s, his parents, his own.

The bats screamed as he fell backwards, chair crashing to the ground, the vine around his ankle yanking him upwards.

Rain sizzled on his face, vines sliding away to leave him gasping on the ground. Bare skin met cold tile, wind blowing through the torn open ceiling. The cowl was on his face, heavy and sticky.

He reached upwards, steel manacles branding themselves into his wrists, the sharp smell of burnt flesh. Hands slid up his legs, tugging at him, the friction burning.

"Finally, I have the Bat”

The voice from the bank, him.

A tongue flickering out to stab his skin, stab into him. The cowl yanked off and stuffed into his mouth. The sound of the zipper tearing itself open shattering his ears.

Pain

Water piercing his eyes, rising to fill him up and mixing with the fluid inside. Eyes closing, mouth opening to gulp down water, a slowing heartbeat.

Opening his eyes again to a dark sky lit with falling pieces of wood and traces of mad laughter on the wind.

He stepped through the wreckage, booted foot landing on a hand, smashed up bone jutting out of blackened flesh. Something landed on his head, hooking onto one of the cowl’s ears and dangling down; the Robin mask, frayed at the edges, pieces of skin stuck to the opposite side.

He dropped to his knees, the impact forcing his teeth together, held the mask in his hands and screamed.