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Cookie Run:Kingdom Official!
Fai_Ryy
Today's Document
Andulka
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
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cherry valley forever
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
Claire Keane
bliss lane
#extradirty
Mike Driver
hello vonnie
d e v o n
titsay
Jar Jar Binks Fan Club
Cosmic Funnies
seen from Germany
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seen from Vietnam
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@clownprinceoflunacy
DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT
Came a man shaking the Earth, came a man raging the Sun!
He laughs at the Heavens, He laughs at their Son!
Cloaked in a grin, where shadows run red,
He jests with the living, He dances with the dead.
He dances under the pale moonlight,
He tramples and takes the crowd by fright!
He dances, and dances all night.
(°•)(°•) —J.Fenwick★
"JOKER!!!" Bruce cried out before he immediately lunged after Joker, like hell he'd let this clown get away. Like hell he'd lose the only thing that he couldn't understand, He grabbed the Joker by the arm as they fell. Cape flapping in the wind, Joker wouldn't survive this fall but Bruce could... So he did the only thing he knew how, he used his grapnel gun. He wrapped the cord around Joker and let him get launched through a window, His head spun as he continued falling. He couldn't reach his cape to glide down, so he fell... And kept falling until he felt the impact of the ground against his broken armor...
"We're both crazy.." Bruce wheezed quietly, laying on the ground... Staring up at the night sky, His body ached and hurt with each breath.
Yet he'd keep living, for Gotham... For his family... For Joker... Bruce could feel his blood starting to gush anew, the fall had caused his wounds to open again...
Joker bolted down the fire escape in a blur of purple and green, cackling the whole way. He hit the alley floor just in time to see Batman hit it first — a sickening splat that echoed off the bricks.
For a split second, something almost like concern flickered across the Joker’s painted face. His grin faltered. He knelt beside the crumpled Dark Knight, tilting his head like a curious dog.
“Oh Batsy…” he sighed, voice unusually soft. Then the grin snapped back into place, wider than ever.
“You fell like a goddamn pancake! Flat, pathetic, and hilariously undignified!” He threw his head back and laughed, the sound bouncing wildly through the alley. “You better not be trying to replace me, though. I’m the only comedian in this city!”
Joker rubbed his chin, eyes gleaming with manic delight. “Hey, you’re not allowed to die on me yet. I still have to tell you who I really am… or was it what? I always forget.”
He dipped a gloved finger into the blood pooling beneath Batman’s suit and brought it to his lips. A slow, theatrical lick.
“Mmm! Tastes like vintage billionaire money. Five-star syrup, darling. Then that means your one of those rich assholes who doesn't pay his taxes!”
SLAP!
Joker smacked Batman hard across the face. “Bad Batman! That’s for not paying your taxes!”
He slapped him again for good measure, then paused, finger tapping his lips. “Then again… I don’t pay mine either.” A dramatic gasp. “Oh no, what if the IRS comes for me? I don’t even have a real job — unless tormenting you counts as gainful employment. HAHAHAHA!”
With surprising strength, Joker hoisted Batman over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
“Up, up, and away!” he sang, skipping toward the nearest alley.
He stumbled. Batman went flying.
CLANG.
Straight into an overflowing dumpster.
Joker winced. “Yuck. You’re gonna reek now. Not very ‘dark and brooding’ anymore, are we?”
He yanked the unconscious vigilante back out, brushed off some rotten banana peels with exaggerated care, and resumed carrying him toward one of his many rotting hideouts.
“Don’t worry, old friend,” he whispered cheerfully. “We’re just getting started.”
>. The past couple of weeks, Binary had taken it upon herself to scout out areas that she hadn't been able to easily access through distance alone. It was a tiresome and dull process, going from block to block to set up the online grid, but she knew that it would eventually pay off.
Emphasis on eventually.
But there were some areas she had initially avoided for a reason. To think of it, there was never not a time where she hadn't been aware of the Clown Prince's hold of Gotham. He was the big bad, the one to avoid at all costs.
Yet...Now, with a newfound boost of arrogance and determined trust in her skills, she found herself drawn to his territory. It couldn't hurt, right? Worst-case scenario, she had to make a run for it. And out of all places to keep tabs on, it had to be his.
"---Show me what you got..."
First impression? Great. At least for her. Every device she could find nearby had zero security on it -- which meant she could break through every firewall and code barrier like eggs against a kitchen counter. Nothing stuck out to her at first -- all until a new IP address came alive in the nearby area.
"Oh-hoh. Come to mama."
Considering the person in question must've just opened their brand-new computer...They deserved a little welcome greeting to the internet. How kind of her!
[ A C C E S S G R A N T E D ] >> . . . >> . . . >> . . . [B1N4RY >> UNKNOWN]: nice system . i personally would run smth a little more extravagant than internet explorer but who am i to judge . [B1N4RY >> UNKNOWN]: i was always taught to respect my elders . : )
No way this could backfire.
....Right?.<
Ah... tracking people down.
One of the Clown Prince of Crime's lesser-known talents.
After all, a man did not simply materialize upon the doorstep of every soul who had ever earned his ire through blind fortune alone.
No.
Every living creature left a trail.
Without exception.
The true art lay not in discovering those trails, but in discerning the precise moment their owners convinced themselves they had ceased to leave them behind.
"C'mon..."
The Joker drummed his fingers idly against the keyboard.
"...there's gotta be something."
Technology.
What a tedious little necessity.
He had always preferred instruments of a far more honest persuasion—crowbars, dynamite, and the invigorating simplicity of a hostage situation. Steel and explosives possessed a certain sincerity that modern machines forever lacked.
Yet the modern world had seen fit to imprison itself within glowing rectangles and invisible networks. Information no longer lingered in filing cabinets or whispered conversations; it floated ceaselessly through wires and satellites, waiting for anyone sufficiently patient—or sufficiently depraved—to pluck it from the ether.
Fortunately, mastery of computers had never been a prerequisite for hunting fools.
One merely needed to understand people.
And people...
People were creatures of astonishing predictability.
They overshared.
They reused passwords.
They photographed every passing moment as though existence itself demanded documentation.
They tagged locations.
They complained.
They boasted.
With blissful ignorance they scattered fragments of themselves across the digital landscape like breadcrumbs through an ancient forest, utterly persuaded no predator possessed the wit—or the patience—to gather them.
The Joker's smile broadened.
"Wolves are amateurs."
His fingers resumed their lazy rhythm across the keys.
Keith.
One of his own men.
Gone without a whisper for more than a week.
The apartment had been stripped nearly bare when Joker paid his unexpected visit, so desolate that even an abandoned cathedral might have envied the illusion of life it retained.
Ordinarily, such disappearances warranted little contemplation.
Men fled.
Men hid.
Men died.
Such was the natural order of Gotham.
But Keith had vanished immediately after their most recent performance with Batman.
An unfortunate coincidence...
...or a most intriguing one.
Perhaps the Bat had caught him.
Perhaps fear had loosened his tongue.
Perhaps the poor fool had entertained the delusion that life might somehow lengthen by changing employers.
Whatever the explanation...
Should Keith have elected to conduct business behind his employer's back...
Well...
The Joker had always believed loyalty deserved recognition.
And betrayal deserved an even grander reward.
With a delighted chuckle, another browser tab sprang open.
"Let's see..."
Keith had children.
That much lingered in memory.
Teenagers, if recollection served.
An age uniquely blessed with two magnificent afflictions.
They believed themselves invisible...
...and possessed an irresistible compulsion to announce every waking moment of their existence to the entire civilized world.
"Oh, children..." Joker chuckled. "The internet was a terrible invention for your generation."
The search unfolded with almost embarrassing ease.
A handful of social media profiles.
Photographs preserved for strangers.
Careless comments exchanged beneath smiling faces.
Then...
A blog.
"Bingo."
He clicked.
A little reading.
Several familiar names.
A conveniently linked profile.
Another account.
Another breadcrumb.
One thread became two.
Two became six.
Before long, an entire web revealed itself—not through brilliance, but through the quiet arrogance of ordinary people convinced no one would ever bother looking.
His smile widened by imperceptible degrees.
"There you are..."
The account itself belonged not to Keith.
It scarcely mattered.
Human beings insisted upon fastening themselves together more tightly than strands of Christmas lights. Tug upon a single bulb, and eventually the entire string revealed itself.
Location histories.
Metadata.
Mutual acquaintances.
Carelessly shared photographs.
Every tiny oversight became another stepping stone leading ever closer to the truth.
His fingers danced with increasing confidence as the trail narrowed to its inevitable conclusion.
"So close..."
The cursor settled above the final trace.
One final click...
The monitor flickered.
Darkness swallowed the screen.
"...Hm?"
For the briefest instant, nothing remained save the reflection of his own ghastly grin, suspended in the glass like the face of some grinning specter.
Then...
The darkness yielded.
A stark monochrome screen emerged from the void.
Lines of text materialized with deliberate, almost theatrical slowness.
The Joker blinked once.
"...Well."
A grin slowly crept across his scarred face.
"Now that's interesting."
He began to read.
And as the meaning of those words unfolded before him...
The smile did not vanish.
It sharpened.
Something buried deep beneath the painted grin had taken offense.
>> . . .
>> . . .
>> . . .
[𝙳0𝚠𝚗𝚝0𝚌𝚕0𝚠𝚗 >> 𝙱1𝙽4𝚁𝚈]: 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚗'𝚜 𝚌𝚒𝚛𝚌𝚞𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚓𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚍𝚞𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 . . . 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚝 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚛 ? 𝚘𝚠 . 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚕𝚘𝚠 . 𝚒'𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚏 𝚒 𝚑𝚊𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚞𝚙 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚘𝚏𝚝𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚎 .
[𝙳0𝚠𝚗𝚝0𝚌𝚕0𝚠𝚗 >> 𝙱1𝙽4𝚁𝚈]: 𝚊𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 "𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚢 𝚎𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜" . . . 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 . 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎'𝚜 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎 . 𝚘𝚛 , 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚎 . . . 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚞𝚝𝚎𝚛 .
[𝙳0𝚠𝚗𝚝0𝚌𝚕0𝚠𝚗 >> 𝙱1𝙽4𝚁𝚈]: 𝚜𝚘 . 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚎𝚡𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 ? 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚖𝚎 , 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚟𝚎 𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚞𝚙𝚝 𝚖𝚎 .
[𝙳0𝚠𝚗𝚝0𝚌𝚕0𝚠𝚗 >> 𝙱1𝙽4𝚁𝚈]: 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚏𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 . . . 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕 . . . 𝚒 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚗'𝚝 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚎𝚝 .
Yes... his dick is white
Yes... his dick is white
"You're right... I am afraid, afraid of what could happen if I loosen my grip on my family, afraid of losing my grip on my morals, afraid that one day I'll kill someone... The world is shades of grey, yes... But your reality is just as flawed as mine." Bruce retorted.
His hands shook with each admittance, he was losing control of himself and for what.. Understanding of the man who drives him batshit crazy?
"You want to bash my skull in and fill it with your gospel, then take a GODDAMN SLEDGEHAMMER AND SHOVE THOUSANDS OF IDEALS IN!!! I just want to understand why..."
Bruce pleaded, his gaze not firm but looking to understand the clown in front of him.
The Joker's grin stretched wide as he drank in the sight of the Caped Crusader pleading before him.
"You're pathetic."
He said it right to his face. No venom — just fact.
"Not worried someone might see us? Might hear us?" He let the words hang, savoring them. "Hear you? You're practically on your knees, Batsy. ha ha."
One gloved hand reached out and cupped Batman's cheek. The armored cowl was hard and cold against his fingers — but he didn't pull away.
"This sentimental little orchestra you're conducting..." He sighed, almost dreamily. "...music to my ears."
Silence fell between them. The Joker's face twitched — calculating, churning — and then something snapped behind those green eyes.
"HA!" He reeled back, clapping his hands together. "You want to understand me? Then there's only one way, Bats — you'd have to become me!" He jabbed a finger toward the edge. "Now get your heinie moving and scram!"
It was as though Batman's desperation had been a shot of adrenaline straight to the heart. The Joker spun on his heel, arms wide, laughing — and without a shred of hesitation, danced straight off the building.
He cleared the railing in one wild, gleeful leap.
"CATCH ME!"
Joker
Bruce grabbed the clown by the shoulders and stared him down.
"There's always time... If you want it."
It almost felt like Bruce was reaching out to a part of himself that felt nothing but rage... And he wouldn't give up yet.
"You want me to lose my mind and destroy Gotham?.. You want me to finally reach 'enlightenment' of there being no need for justice?... Then help me understand you, Make me understand."
He shouldn't have said that but by now, it was too late to take it back.
Joker laughs as Batman shakes him.
“Oh, fickle-minded rat!”
Joker dramatically breaks free from Batman’s grip.
“Alright! I plead guilty! Rightly as charged. You think I’m crazy? Think again! All these years, I’ve been trying to get through that thick cowl of yours so I could slowly peel back every layer of your skin until I reached your skull, and then bash it open—”
He makes a dramatic crushing gesture with his hands to get his point across.
“And fill your mind with my gospel. The tragedy of reality is that there is no reality.”
Joker leans closer to Batman.
“All this… is a game. A joke. A show we put on. I’m trying to tell you, Bats, that we’re no different. It’s just that you’re afraid. You can see the world the way I do, but you choose not to. By clinging to this reality, you deny reality itself.”
“He he HA HA HA HA IT'S KILLING ME”
My better half by Marielle Heessels and David Ducharme
The sculpture won first place in the doubles division at Parksville’s annual Canadian Open Sand Sculpting Competition (2015).
Amazing Art!
"There has to be more to it than that, Joker... What made you this way?"
Bruce almost pleaded, almost... Why was he so desperate, why couldn't he stop himself...
Because He was the only man who mattered in this moment.
"Let me help you..."
Bruce murmured under his breath, the words nearly drowned out by a thunderclap..
The macabre grin falters at those words. This again.
"How many times do I have to tell you? There is no helping me."
Joker pinches his eyes shut in frustration. The act is slipping.
"It's far too late for that."
A heavy silence falls between them.
"Jeez! You sure are a party-pooper, Bats! I was having so much fun, and you just had to reopen old wounds— HA HA!"
He laughs it off, the mask sliding back into place.
"Who washes your suit for you? I could have my laundry done by them too, but... you probably won't trust me with their address. I’d very likely kill them if I got bored."
Batman slowly rose to his feet, His cape billowing behind him through the winds... Bloodstained armor on display... Staring at the presented hands like a forbidden proposal... His mind raced, wondering why Joker would easily give up...
"Why?"
The word escaped his lips before he could stop it, Bruce mentally berated himself... He couldn't let this Clown get away with disturbing his mind, He was the World's Greatest Detective for god's sake.
Yet some part of him was curious, some part of him needed to know Why...
Maybe due to his curiousity, it prompted another question...
"Why?... Just... Why should I?"
Bruce's voice a quiet rumble, the audio nearly drowned out by the rain...
"Hm..?"
Joker pursed his lips and tilted his head in feigned confusion.
"I don't think I quite understand what you're asking, Batsy."
He moved one foot in front of the other like a ballerina, creeping toward Batman in an unsettling, doll-like manner.
"Aren’t you the hero? Shouldn’t you be bringing a criminal mastermind such as I to justice for his crimes against the dull law enforcement? For splashing a bit of colour on their mundane grays?"
Joker answered in a mocking tone. As always, he was tugging at that string—that invisible thread that had always tied them together. The maniac toyed with it, just to see how far he could pull.
"Don’t tell me, Bats, that you’ve forgotten how this works?" He was still keeping up the act.
Joker pointed a finger at him—not accusatory, just enough to mess with him.
"HA! Your mind’s constipated, isn’t it, Batsy?"
"I... You know what I meant, Joker... Why do you do all of this, some sick thrill?? Or do you enjoy testing my limits?... Why do you keep pushing, because for all it's worth... You're the only thing on this... This GODDAMN planet, that I can't understand!"
Batman snapped back, he didn't mean to... It just happened, as the push and pull of their fights grew stronger... Bruce's conscience couldn't let him just finish this fight, and it sickened him to his core...
"You don't understand how many times I held myself back from just... Snapping."
Shut up, Bruce. Why are you telling him these things?!
Batman's mind echoed, He couldn't stop the overwhelming confusion and anger from spilling out of the chipped cup that was his deteriorating mind.
The wind whipped around the two, rain droplets pattering against the bloodstained concrete... Bruce stood there, holding his torso as to numb his pain...
“God, sheesh! You heroes are sooooo dramatic!” He rolled his eyes, then laughed.
“Heh, heh… I think the crowbar to the head did a number on ya.”
He twirled around, circling Batman with long, leisurely steps, sizing up his prey.
“Ah, man, you know, walnuts apparently help enlarge your puny problem—your mind, of course! Having a few twice a day might help you stop asking stupid questions, Batsey. I’ve had mine today—that’s why I’m bouncing off the walls like I’m nuts!”
He suddenly stopped in his tracks and rubbed his chin. “But yeah… why am I doing this?” he mused, as if genuinely wondering. “Don’t know! I just think it’s fun—HA HA!”
The madman flashed a toothy grin. Rain dripped down his face, soaking his dirty suit. If the white on his face weren’t his skin but makeup, it would have ruined his appearance even more—and perhaps made him slightly vulnerable, if he had the face of a normal man. But it’s better this way. Joker isn’t vulnerable… he’s a showman.
DC Speechless! #5
Batman slowly rose to his feet, His cape billowing behind him through the winds... Bloodstained armor on display... Staring at the presented hands like a forbidden proposal... His mind raced, wondering why Joker would easily give up...
"Why?"
The word escaped his lips before he could stop it, Bruce mentally berated himself... He couldn't let this Clown get away with disturbing his mind, He was the World's Greatest Detective for god's sake.
Yet some part of him was curious, some part of him needed to know Why...
Maybe due to his curiousity, it prompted another question...
"Why?... Just... Why should I?"
Bruce's voice a quiet rumble, the audio nearly drowned out by the rain...
"Hm..?"
Joker pursed his lips and tilted his head in feigned confusion.
"I don't think I quite understand what you're asking, Batsy."
He moved one foot in front of the other like a ballerina, creeping toward Batman in an unsettling, doll-like manner.
"Aren’t you the hero? Shouldn’t you be bringing a criminal mastermind such as I to justice for his crimes against the dull law enforcement? For splashing a bit of colour on their mundane grays?"
Joker answered in a mocking tone. As always, he was tugging at that string—that invisible thread that had always tied them together. The maniac toyed with it, just to see how far he could pull.
"Don’t tell me, Bats, that you’ve forgotten how this works?" He was still keeping up the act.
Joker pointed a finger at him—not accusatory, just enough to mess with him.
"HA! Your mind’s constipated, isn’t it, Batsy?"
His eyes narrowed with a bit of annoyance, Batman's voice a low rumble through the loud thunder.
"Have you stopped being a psychopath?..."
The rhetorical question tinted with a small amount of amusement, though The Dark Knight would never admit it... He lifted his head to face the Clown Prince of Crime's gaze...
The poor man, unable to understand why.
The more sympathetic side of Batman thought, He swiftly brushed those thoughts aside. Now wasn't the time to sympathize with the enemy.
"You need to stop... Before it's too late and you do something you regret, Joker." The Caped Crusader beckoned calmly, his arm wrapping around a wound or two on his torso.
@clownprinceoflunacy
“Heh… heh… heh…” It was undoubtedly risible of the Dark Knight to warn the Joker.
“HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA!”
He pushed himself off the rickety metal railing and moved closer to the costumed vigilante with a hunter’s gait—deliberate, predatory, eyeing up his rival.
“Regret? Me?” he said, as if genuinely offended—taken aback by what Batman had spouted.
“World’s Greatest Detective… and yet so slow…”
The mockery dripped like venom from his words, yet sounded as sweet as honey all the same.
The pale man dusted off his wine-shade, double-breasted coat and straightened it, maintaining his formal appearance—even though it hardly mattered now. His clothes were marred and bloodied from their confrontation.
“C’mon, darling~… take me.”
Joker extended his hands, offering them to be cuffed.
@thedarkerknightofgotham
For those who are waiting for my replies, sorry, but there's a problem with my firefox so I'm unable to cut my threads. I will post my replies back as soon as I fix that problem!
The muppet joker is my favorite joker
Are you a replacement? A second d lister joker?
“Re-replacement?! Buddy… I’m not the understudy—I’m the opening act, the headliner, the whole damn show! I didn’t replace anything… I started it. And nobody—nobody—replaces me.”
