#joker fan fiction

[gothamite-rambler]

Jason Todd later finding out that not only did his brother beat Joker to a pulp he did kill him... until Bruce stepped in.

Dick: Jason… How are you feeling, bud? I know it's a lot to learn.

Jason took a deep breath as he kept his head down, pinching the bridge of his nose, before reacting explosively.

Jason: Are you kidding?! That's unfair! He wasn't even the-

Jason paused closing his eyes and pulling a dagger out of his pocket, gripping it tightly. Dick's eyes widened in shock, but Jason was able to relax as he took a deep breath.

Jason: I need to calm down. Everything's fine... I'm an adult.

Cass sat next to Jason and patted him on the shoulder while sipping her smoothie.

Dick (nervous): That's a big dagger in your hand right now.

Jason (calm as he gripped the hilt of the knife): This? It's my support dagger. I’m not going to stab anyone. I'm just furious at the jackass who thinks everyone in this family should follow that rule!

Dick: Come on… I felt guilty afterward.

Jason: Oh God, you and your big heart. Let me handle him next time.

Cass: Jason, no.

Jason: You won't have to be there when I do it. I'd kill him for you or Dick, even Bruce.

Cass: I doubt taking his life would be what you truly wanted.

Jason: Okay, but what if it's an accident? I could accidentally push him down a flight of stairs where he'll fall onto a knife.

Bruce: No! No you won't!

Jason: Why the hell did you revive him?!

Bruce: Murder is wrong!

Jason: For you! For you! And Cass, but she's my favorite. At least she killed someone and felt regret.

Bruce: I… Okay, sure. What do I know? My parents just died—

Jason: We’ve all lost our parents! You're not special!

Damian: Mine haven't… Wait.

Bruce: Don't worry about it Damian. I’m… kind of sorry. I can make it up to you.

Jason (crossing his arms): No, you can’t!

Bruce rolled his eyes, then pulled out his phone and sent Jason some money. Jason checked his phone and huffed in annoyance.

Jason: Well, this kind of fixes it.

[sp7-mr]

[pinkiemachine]

GOTHAM FILES: MOVIE FINALE

THE TIME HAS COME! BRUCE IS GETTING MARRIED!!!!!

Somebody get some flowers! 💐 Somebody get a ring! 💍 Somebody get a chapel and a choir to sing! 🎶

Somebody get an organ to play! Cause somebody’s getting married today! 🔔 💕 🔔

This literally could not be a bigger deal! No one, and I mean NO ONE expected Bruce to ever get married. Alfred is so proud of him. He’s come such a long way. They all have.

Buuut…

Guess who’s slighted that he wasn’t invited? It’s Joker.

He’s pretty ticked at Batman. He’s taken Harley, he’s taken half his vision, he’s taken most of Gotham from him… and now he’s gonna stand up at that alter, being all happy? No no no… he’ll give him something to REALLY smile about…

So, the film goes about how you’d expect. Relationship drama, family drama, trying to put the wedding of the century together drama, and in the background, Joker’s ramping up to cause trouble. But also also in the background… Bruce is reminiscing hard on his past. He goes to visit his parents in the cemetery. He says he thinks they’d be proud of their grandkids. He just wishes… he’d finally been able to find the man who did it… who took them away from him. But then… he decides to take another look at that case… there might be some new evidence that’s come forward recently…

Anyhoo, that doesn’t last long, because: Joker.

Naturally, he hijacks the wedding, nearly stops the marriage entirely, but this time… this time, it’s not about the whole family coming together to fight a common foe. I mean, they’re all there, helping in their own ways, but… when it comes to Joker… this is it. This is the final showdown. Just him and Bruce. The way it was always meant to be. And this is the last time he tries to murder his kids, or his soon-to-be wife, or his friends. This is the last time he escapes Arkham. This is the last time he attacks Gotham.

Technically, it was Joker’s own fault… but Bruce didn’t exactly go rushing in to save him…

Either way…

…the Joker is finally dead.

Thus marks the end of an era.

The wedding continues (everyone’s a little banged up, but otherwise okay) and Bruce and Selina are officially husband and wife!

Later, at the reception, Bruce looks around at everyone… all his friends and family… and he can’t help but feel overcome with a bittersweet joy. He stands and makes a speech. He says that… when he was a boy, he thought he had lost everything. He thought his life was meaningless. He thought he would get lost in that darkness forever. But it turns out, he was never truly alone. And now, life had blessed him tenfold.

Alfred, who had never wavered once over the course of his life, and had always been there with a shoulder to cry on, or a pat on the back, or a quick scolding. The man who always believed Bruce no matter what, and who had become a father to him. He wouldn’t be the man he was today without Alfred.

Dick, the goofy kid he found years ago, and who barrelled into Bruce’s life so unexpectedly… he had been Bruce’s first guiding light. His first Robin. His first son. And he had made Bruce so proud, seeing the man he had become. A far better man than he was.

Barbara, his first Batgirl, and an unwavering ally in the fight. Her bravery and quick-thinking had saved Bruce on numerous occasions, and she had become a good friend. Not only that, but a good mentor as well. She would surely go on to do many more amazing things.

Jason, who never once stopped making him laugh. (Something Dick was always jealous of.) Jason, who they almost lost… but found his way back home. He doesn’t regret taking him in for even a second. He’d do it all over again the same way, just to see that smile of his… and although they differed in philosophy… he was proud of Jason, too.

Tim, who barged in unannounced, but ended up being the most welcome. The light he needed most during the dark days. Without Tim, Bruce might never have recovered… if it weren’t for his intelligence and determination… this wedding might not even be happening. So thanks, Tim. Thanks for all your hard work and sacrifice over the years. Bruce couldn’t be more proud.

Steph, the bravest, boldest, and loudest of them all. The glue that held them all together when all else had failed. The last bit of energy and optimism that he and Tim needed to get over those hurdles… she was just as much a blessing as any of the other Robins, despite how short her time with the title was.

Cass, who was hiding in the darkest corner of the room because she’s very antisocial, was another welcome surprise. She was growing into a fine superhero, and a wonderful person, and Bruce was happy for her.

Duke, the newest member of the family, who had never stopped working hard to help them achieve their goals and who single handedly helped keep Gotham afloat while he was away. He was proud of him too.

Of course, there were all his friends in the Justice League—Clark and Diana especially—not to mention Lucious, and all his years of hard work, Commissioner Gordon, Luke, Catherine, Harper, Claire, and so many more…

…but the person he was most thankful for was Damian. He had grown so much over these last five years. He had matured and made difficult decisions, had taught Bruce more lessons than he could count, had brought many new animal friends with him, and he had made Bruce so immensely proud to call him his son. If Thomas and Martha could see him now… Bruce knew that Damian would continue to grow into a great man. A good man. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind about that.

So here’s to family. Here’s to the long nights and the hard conversations. Here’s to the breakups and the reunions. To the first kisses, the newborn babies, the long walks and good times. Here’s to love… and here’s to the future. If it’s anything like these past 17 years… then Bruce can’t wait for it.

And now, there’s one final loose end.

After the speech, Gordon takes Bruce aside. He says, he’s got his wedding gift with him and he might want to take a look at it now. They’ve finally been able to determine who the Waynes’ killer was.

Bruce discreetly excuses himself from the party for a moment…

He goes to this quiet part of Gotham and the address listed brings him to an apartment… there’s a woman inside… and a baby… The file says that this man had been arrested for various unrelated crimes and went to prison for a total of thirty-five years. Now it seemed like he was trying to get his life together. He didn’t at all resemble the man in the alley from that night. And now that Bruce had found him… he was faced with a big question. What should he do? He watched the man eat dinner with his wife and clean up after his baby boy… they were living in a low-rent district… they looked like they didn’t have much… but they were trying. Trying their best. As much as it hurt… Bruce was happy for them. Happy that this man was in a better place. Happy that he had faced some form of punishment and had taken that as a good wake up call.

He left the apartment, no one having seen him.

Back at Wayne Manor, the reception was still carrying on down on the grounds outside. Bruce was in his study. He seemed tired. Tired, but happy. Selina came in, wondering where he had disappeared to. It was time to take off for the honeymoon. Bruce just smiled and took her hand, leading her back out. As we pan down to Bruce’s desk, we see Thomas and Martha’s case file… and on that file are written two words:

Case Closed.

Part 9 👇

[temperamentalaquarius]

"Why doesn't Dick tell Jason he killed the Joker" because taking a life is one of Dick's greatest regrets and to Dick perpetuating the cycle of Joker's violence does not prove that he loved Jason or cared that he died, it just shows that Dick is capable of the same cruelty and disregard for human life as the evils he fights against when pushed. Moreover I don't think Jason would react positively to that info because

a. The Joker is still alive which would again prove to Jason that his death didn't have an impact and

b. Jason wanted Bruce specifically to kill the Joker to prove that he loved Jason/cared that he died, so if anything finding out that not only did someone, who was not Bruce, kill the Joker but that Bruce resuscitated him would probably just hurt Jason more.

TLDR it's not about Jason's catharsis that would not occur it's about Dick's regret at breaking one of the core tenants of his moral code

[trixie-in-wonderland]

Event Theme Song 🎵

my main account: @trixiegalaxy

a fanfiction TWST Christmas event based off the game, Bridge to Another World: The Christmas Curse, with a female reader/MC.

Plot; After boarding the Polar Express, (Y/N), Grim, Ace, Deuce, Epel, Vil, Rook, Azul, Ruggie, Kalim, Lilia, and Idia find themselves in the north pole where a huge Christmas festival is being held. But the festivities come to a halt when Santa's evil twin brother, Krampus, attacks the village and starts turning people into christmas ornaments. Later on, it's revealed that Krampus intends to seize control of all the magic in Twisted Wonderland in addition to destroying Christmas forever. Will (Y/N) and her friends be able to stop Krampus? Or will this be the last Christmas in Twisted Wonderland?

Story Info (Please Read!)

Book 1 Chapters - 1, 2, 3, 4

Book 2 Chapters - 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

Book 3 Chapters - 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 [final]

Christmas Event Card Drawing Challenge

I thought it might be fun to add a drawing challenge along with my fake event, where you can draw your TWST OC or Yuusonas in your own event outfit. Please read my story and the challenge's rules before drawing anything! Event outfits are in Book 1 - Chapter 3 of my fanfiction story.

Challenge Rules:

If you do this challenge, please reblog this post!

you may tag your TWST artist friends when you post your drawing to see if they also want to do the challenge. But it's entirely up to them if they do it or not! And please do not tag an artist who has already been tagged!

When you post your drawing, please add the tag "A Twisted Christmas Story Event" and a link to this post.

Your drawing must be in the form of a character card! If you do an R card, just use the regular R card background. If you do an SSR card, you can draw your own picture or background for it. If you do an SR card, please use the following picture for the background (it was made by @k-looking-glass-house ):

You may add a full-body picture of your character's outfit in your post, along with your character card.

If you want, you can draw a Groovy version of your event card. You can also write your own Vignettes and voice lines to go along with your event card.

Please don't add any inappropriate words or pictures on your outfit! Such as curse words or nudity pictures.

Please do not add blood or gore to your drawing!

Do not draw someone else's OC unless you get permission or they commission you! If you do get permission or commission, please add who the OC belongs to in your post.

You can also add headcanons about what it would be like if your OC was in the event.

You may do more then one character for this challenge, but please post their event cards separately!

You may also make an event card of canon TWST characters wearing the event outfits, including the characters I add to my fanfiction story (but put them in the outfits I chose for them, it took a long time trying to find the perfect Christmas pajamas for each of them 😭).

Your character's event outfit must be in the form of Christmas theme pajamas. The pajamas can be in the style of a two piece or onesie. You can also do a night gown, but if you do, please give them pajamas pants underneath! The pajamas shirt must have long sleeves and the pajamas pants must be long legged.

The theme of your pajamas can be anything Christmas related: candycanes, christmas cookies, snowman, hot cocoa, penguins, Santa Claus, polar bears, etc. You can also mix themes together, for example: snowman & reindeer, Santa Claus & candy canes, or hot cocoa & christmas cookies.

The color scheme of the event outfit can be anything you want.

Your pajamas top can be replaced with a pull-on hooded sweat jacket, but the jacket must be the same Christmas theme as your pajamas pants.

You can make your character's outfit similar or the same as any of the event outfits I gave the TWST characters in my fanfiction story.

If you want, you can add a scarf, earrings, or necklace to your outfit.

Your character's hairstyle can be whatever you want.

Your outfit must include the following items (they don't have to be the same color or style as the following picture):

A santa hat - you can make the hat any color you want. you can add antlers, christmas lights, or anything like that to your hat. But if your OC is wearing a hooded onesie, you don't have add the hat, and just have your OC be wearing the hood on their head instead.

Mitten style gloves

An open front winter vest or sweater or sweater vest - But if you have replaced your pajamas top with a pull-on hooded sweat jacket, then don't add any of these.

Slippers that have soles on the bottom - the slippers can be plain winter ones or the cute character theme ones.

I'm tagging for this challenge; @cheekinpermission , @oya-oya-okay , @terminuslucis , @tickledpink31 , @cheerleaderman , @clovenoko , @deppytwistverse , @rizdoodls , @cozymochi , and @sunnysidesevenup

[stacydrumartist]

A few dc female comic characters. Oils

[frankencanon]

Stupid DC x OP Crossover Idea:

Buggy the Clown winds up in Gotham and is extremely offended that people keep mistaking him for a minion of this green-haired poser

-

Jason, finding out some clown from another dimension one-shot the Joker because he "wasn't clown enough": 😃

(Anyone who unrepentantly one-shots the Joker is a-ok in Jason's book—even if they happen to be a shitty clown...)

-

The Bats: [confronting Buggy]

Jason: [waving in the background]

Batman: We'll help you get back to your home dimension, but we don't condone killing—

Buggy: yeah, ok

Batman:

Batman: what

Buggy: I mean, sure, it'll be annoying to have to workaround and get things done without killing people but, like, I can do it. I'm a Big Boy

Buggy: I mean, it's not like I kill for funsies or as a hobby or anything. It's not a necessity

Batman:

The Bats:

Jason "Everything Is A Competition" Todd: 🤔

[jslittlebirdie]

pairing: ledger!joker x GN!reader

summary: You and J spend Halloween together carving a pumpkin and playfully teasing each other.

word count: 679

warnings: slightly graphic language, a bit of innuendo at the end of the drabble

A/N: I haven't written and posted anything in forever. The burnout is hitting hard. So I'm not sure if this little thing turned out well or not. But I want to try to somehow get my creativity and inspiration back. Maybe someone will like it a little bit.

taglist: @alittlesmartcookie @ajokeformur-ray @these-written-reveries

Carving Time

A loud, wet squelching noise echoed through the room as he plunged the blade deeper and deeper into the soft flesh. A greenish strand of hair stuck to his forehead where the sticky, thick liquid had splashed into his face. He frowned in concentration, but his toothy grin gave away just how much he enjoyed it. You watched him with wide eyes, following every single one of his skillful movements. Anyone else would have been frightened by this sight, but not you. You were almost hypnotized, perhaps staring a bit too much at his hands.

A few more well-aimed knife stabs and the sinister deed was done. He smacked his lips in satisfaction and put the knife down. Almost immediately his attention was back on you, dark brown eyes piercing into your soul, causing you to look away, caught, and making him chuckle with amusement. Heat rose in your cheeks, but you tried to ignore it. It was silly and endearing that after all this time he still had the same effect on you. He would probably never say it out loud, but he loved it.

"Was that it, toots? Or is there more I have to take care of, hm? Just say the word and I'll make sure that nothing else will bother ya."

Something in his voice made you shudder, but you leaned in to give him a small peck on his cheek. If you listened carefully enough though, you could hear him softly grumbling under his breath. You would probably have to give him some proper kisses later to make up for it. Especially considering what you were planning to do. "No, no. Thank you, J. I can do the rest alone."

Thanks to his help, you could finally open the cavity. A sweetish foul scent flooded your sinuses and made you cough. But you shrugged it off. Maybe it was a little too unorthodox, but you preferred to use a big spoon to get rid of the guts. And when nothing helped, you stuck your hand in the opening to remove the last remnants. A sensory nightmare, the way the masses felt between your fingers. Slimey and gooey. You grimaced in disgust.

J cackled next to you when he noticed your reaction. You were just too adorable. "Seems like ya need some more training, doll."

You decided to just ignore him. You would get your sweet revenge soon enough. You paused to examine your work and when you thought it was good enough, you reached for the knife. But J was quick to grab your wrist and stop you. He tsk-ed at you and shook his head when he saw your questioning look.

"Not this one. Don't wantcha to get hurt." He rummaged in one of the countless pockets of his royal purple coat until he pulled out a small ordinary kitchen knife. "That's way better."

You huffed. But at the same time, it made your heart feel all warm and fluffy that he cared so much about you. For a brief moment, you questioned your idea. But it was just too good to stop now. Why should it always be him teasing you? Why not the other way around? You smiled innocently at him and then took the smaller knife from him. Luckily, this part of the work didn't take too long. Only a few more cuts were needed to get the desired result.

Finally, you turned around the fully carved pumpkin so that he could see it. You watched him closely, a mischievous grin tugging at your lips. And you got exactly the reaction you expected, it seemed like he liked your Batman pumpkin. His smile immediately dropped and his gaze snapped to you, dark eyes even darker than usual. Once again, anyone else would have been frightened by this sight. But you trusted him. You knew him good enough to see the playful and challenging glint in the darkness of his beautiful eyes. It made you giggle and squeal with anticipation.

"I'll give you a ten second head start. One, two..."

[youngbounty]

JJ: Really thought I buried this place… but, I should’ve known better.

Batman 666: Drake!

JJ: Nothing ever stays dead.

Batman 666: Are we alone!?

JJ: For now… maybe forever… You wanna know a secret? Joker thinks he made JJ, with all his torture and shock therapy. “Exercise your doubts, JJ. Be what they fear, JJ.” As if everything he said could somehow push me to be his Mini Me to his Doctor Evil. But HE didn’t make JJ… you did.

Batman 666: …. I’m sorry, Drake. I never meant to leave you.

JJ: You never left. I always heard you. Shadows in the streets. Prickles on the back of my neck. Your… voice… pushing me… picking me up when all the colors were black… You’re the reason I’m still alive.

Batman 666: I spent so many nights in that fucking prison on that freezing floor hungry, bloody, counting the hours… the only thing… the ONLY THING that kept me going… was the thought of getting back to you.

JJ: … are we… still… brothers?

Batman 666: Nothing is ever going to change that.

[jesterfairy]

.♠︎.💜 𝐀 𝐏𝐨𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐈 𝐂𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭 💚.♠︎.

Chapter 12: The Things That Hurt

___. ♡ ✦ ♧━━━♢ ✦ ♠️ ✦ ♢━━━♧ ✦ ♡. ___

Chapter Word Count: 4,362

Fic Summary: Alina Vale dreams of escaping her dead-end life as a diner waitress, finding solace in painting Gotham’s haunting shadows. But when a routine trip to the bank turns into a living nightmare, she finds herself face-to-face with the Joker—a man as captivating as he is terrifying.

As his twisted games unravel her defenses, Alina is forced to confront the pull he has over her, a collision of fear and desire she can’t control. Trapped in his world of chaos and power, survival means facing not only him but the darker parts of herself he’s brought to life.

A story of obsession, control, and the intoxicating allure of letting go.

Genres: Dark romance, Gothic romance, Stalker romance

Pairings: TDK Joker x Female OC

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: non-con, extremely dubious consent, violence, psychological manipulation, kidnapping, stalking, slow-burn, toxic relationships, trauma bonding, childhood trauma, graphic sexual content, stockholm syndrome, dead dove do not eat

___. ♡ ✦ ♧━━━♢ ✦ ♠️ ✦ ♢━━━♧ ✦ ♡. ___

Chapter 12: The Things That Hurt

Alina stared at the cracked wall, feeling herself dissolving into the silence. The Joker hadn’t returned yet, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she felt a sliver of relief.

The new bedding had been a cruel paradox—a small mercy wrapped in humiliation. For the first time in ages, she'd slept deeply, the thick flannel sheets and plush comforter cocooning her in warmth. But the comfort felt like a violation, each thread a reminder of his control.

She tried to distract herself, opening her favorite book, Jane Eyre, eyes scanning the familiar pages. But the words barely registered. No matter how hard she tried to focus, her mind kept circling back to what he'd done—the violation replaying in vivid detail.

Worse still, she couldn’t stop thinking about him.

His voice. The way it had thickened with pleasure... 

The guttural groan he’d made when he marked her. 

Her stomach clenched, bile clawing up her throat.

But beneath it, somewhere deep—somewhere she didn’t want to look—something even worse coiled in the dark.

Something ugly.

Something forbidden—

She couldn’t stop replaying it.

"God, you're so perfect like this, doll."

The way he had said it—raw, wrecked, thick with hunger as his eyes raked over her exposed body...

Her breath stilled, fingers tightening around the book in her lap.

No. She shouldn’t be thinking about this. She had never felt more powerless, more defiled—

So why was her pulse hammering so fast?

Why was she trembling—not just with revulsion, not just with rage—but with something she couldn’t even bear to name?

The memory of his voice—the way it had broken when he'd come undone—sent a shudder through her so deep she swore she could still feel it.

"You have no idea how hard it is... not to touch you right now."

Her breath caught, her entire body recoiling as the words slammed back into her, dragging something monstrous to the surface.

Because it hadn’t just been a game to him.

Hadn’t just been another way to humiliate her—

He wanted her.

Not just as a victim. Not just as something to break.

No.

He wanted her in the most primal, uncontrollable way.

A tremor rocked through her, violent enough to nearly knock the book from her grip.

Stop it. STOP It!

She clamped her hands over her ears, as if she could physically crush the thoughts before they could take shape.

But it was too late—the knowledge was already inside her, slithering through her mind like poison.

She had made him lose control.

Not just anyone. Him.

Gotham’s nightmare. The man who owned fear. The man who had nothing human left inside him...

And yet, when he had looked at her, when he had come apart over her, there had been nothing but hunger.

Unrestrained. Unrepentant.

Primal. Dangerous. Raw.

It was filthy.

And the most revolting part? Some small, wretched piece of her had thrilled in it.

Because he wanted her.

Not in some vague, teasing way. Not like when he had toyed with her, sat her in his lap, whispered filth into her ear just to watch her squirm.

No.

This had been deliberate. Planned.

He had wanted to mark her like this. To humiliate her. To make sure she felt it—knew it.

And that should have destroyed her. It should have made her want to claw her own skin off.

So why—

Why was she still thinking about it?

Why was she sitting here, breath too fast, stomach twisting, thighs pressed together so tightly it hurt?

Her body was betraying her.

It was sick. Wrong.

Something inside her had split wide open, jagged and raw, a wound she couldn’t stitch back together.

She clenched her teeth so hard her jaw ached, nails biting into her palms. But it didn’t matter.

She could feel it.

Something had shifted, something had changed, and she couldn’t force it back into place.

She couldn’t unhear his voice.

Couldn’t unfeel the weight of his desire.

Couldn’t erase the knowledge that Gotham’s monster had come apart over her.

And now, he was inside her. Tangled up in her mind, her skin, her pulse.

There was no undoing it.

And that terrified her more than anything.

She wanted to rip the knowledge out of her skull, bleed herself dry if that’s what it took to erase it.

Because if she couldn’t erase it—if she couldn’t stop feeling this—

Then what did that make her?

She sucked in a sharp breath, pressing a trembling hand to her mouth.

No. She had to stop this. She had to focus.

He was gone. He had left.

And maybe—maybe—he wasn’t coming back.

The thought hit her so suddenly, so violently, that for a moment, the sick, spiraling mess of emotions inside her stalled.

Maybe he wouldn’t come back this time.

Maybe he had finally managed to blow himself to bits, or get taken out by a rival, or captured by Batman.

The idea of him being gone—really gone—flickered through her mind, and for a fleeting moment, she let herself imagine it.

Perhaps it would be better to be left here, never to see him again, even if it meant her own death—

A mercy compared to facing him once more and discovering what fresh horrors he had in store for her.

Her stomach twisted, nausea slamming into her.

God. How could she have ever allowed herself to see him as almost human?

In those fleeting moments when they’d discussed her books, she had noticed the exhaustion in his eyes, had even wondered what kind of pain might lurk beneath his madness, what haunted him in the dark.

But no.

He wasn’t human.

He was a shell—twisted, sadistic—a monster whose heart pumped nothing but venom and hatred through his veins.

Every breath he took was poison.

Every word a toxin designed to destroy.

Whatever humanity might have once lived inside him had long since rotted away, leaving behind a creature that thrived only on chaos and pain.

The thought of his return made her stomach twist, her heart pulse with dread.

The dim, flickering light barely held the darkness at bay, casting long, sinister shadows that crawled up the walls like waiting phantoms. Every sound—the steady drip of a leaking pipe, the groaning of the ancient building—echoed unnervingly, making her flinch at the smallest disturbance.

She wasn’t safe.

She'd never be safe again.

Even in his absence, his shadow coiled around her, pressing against the walls, curling into the cracks of this place like something alive, waiting.

A heavy silence settled over the room, so deep that even the constant dripping of the pipe seemed to stop.

It was unnerving.

Unnatural.

Like the building itself was holding its breath.

Alina’s pulse quickened, her eyes darting to the door, half-expecting it to burst open.

But nothing happened.

The silence stretched on, oppressive, as if the room itself was waiting.

Her mind raced with possibilities—had he left her for good this time? Was she finally free?

Or, was this just another one of his twisted games?

She swallowed hard, forcing herself to breathe.

Her heart pounded in her chest, every beat growing louder in the unbearable quiet.

And then, faint but unmistakable, she heard it—

The distant tap of shoes on concrete.

Her breath hitched, and the silence shattered.

The door groaned open behind her.

---

His footsteps echoed ominously as he entered the room, slow and deliberate, but she kept her eyes fixed on the floor. Her whole body was taut, every muscle coiled with tension.

Don’t look at him. Don’t let him see what he’s done to you.

She could feel the heat of her anger building, but she held it down, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

As he casually sauntered in, Alina sat rigid on the edge of the mattress, every muscle taut with tension. Her silence was deafening, a wall she had erected between them, cold and guarded.

The Joker, however, noticed everything. He took in her stiff posture, the way her jaw clenched, the way she avoided looking at him.

His grin widened.

“Still mad at me, doll?” he teased, leaning casually against the wall. “You’re not gonna hold a little fun against me, are you?”

Alina’s fingers curled tightly into the fabric of the blanket she's degraded herself to get, her knuckles whitening. She didn’t respond, keeping her cold, emotionless mask firmly in place.

But inside, she was boiling. Her mind screamed at her to stay silent, to hold onto the last shred of control she had. She knew he wanted this—wanted her to break.

The Joker’s eyes flickered with amusement as he strolled further into the room. “Come on, sweetheart. Don’t tell me you’re still sulking over what happened. I didn’t even touch you. Not really.” His voice was mocking, his grin wide and wicked as he reveled in her silent rage.

That was it.

Something inside Alina snapped.

She shot up from the bed, her heart hammering in her chest as she finally let the fury spill out. “You’re sick!” she spat, her voice trembling with the force of her anger. “You think humiliating me like that is some kind of game? You think you can just—”

The Joker threw his head back and laughed, a deep, wild sound that filled the room. He was enjoying every second of her outburst, his eyes sparkling with twisted delight.

“Oh, I know it’s a game,” he said, grinning at her with manic glee. “And the best part? You’re playing right into it.”

Alina’s chest tightened, her hands shaking with fury. “You think you’ve won just because you can make me feel this way? You’re nothing but a sadistic—”

"Ohhh, there she is."

His voice dropped into something almost reverent, eyes gleaming as he took a slow step toward her.

"My angry little doll."

The words slithered into the air, thick and indulgent. Like he was tasting them, savoring the shape of them in his mouth.

"Alina on fire. I love when she comes out to play."

She barely had time to process the words before she realized—he was close.

Too close

Not touching her. Not quite. But standing just near enough that she could feel the heat of him, feel the ghost of his breath brushing the edge of her cheek.

A shudder threatened to wrack through her, but she locked her body rigid, refusing to give him the pleasure.

His gloved fingers twitched at his side. Just barely. Just enough for her to notice.

Like he was holding himself back.

Like he wanted to grab her.

Her stomach twisted violently at the thought, her pulse thrashing.

He chuckled, breath slow and thick, dragging out the moment like he was soaking in every last drop of her reaction.

“Mmm, you get so pretty when you're mad,” he purred, almost thoughtful. "That little tremble in your hands... the way your lips tighten, all pink and tense..."

His grin sharpened, voice dipping lower. Hungrier.

"And you know what's funny?" He tilted his head, watching her like a puzzle he was piecing together. "I don’t even have to touch you to make you feel this way, do I, sweetheart?"

Alina’s breath hitched.

She could feel it again—that twisted, horrible pull he had over her.

The way he didn't just get under her skin—he burrowed deep, carved himself into her thoughts until there was no way to scrub him out.

And then, for just a breath—a fleeting, unbearable second—his eyes softened. The grin faltered, almost imperceptibly, as if he felt it too.

Her chest tightened. No.

But the question slithered in before she could stop it...

What if he did touch me?

She clenched her teeth, horrified by the thought, horrified by the way his words slithered through her, curling tight around something dark and restless inside her.

Her fists balled at her sides, fury burning through the shame.

“You’re vile.” The words were raw, nearly spat from her mouth. “You make me sick.”

Joker exhaled sharply—almost like a laugh, but softer. Intimate. His tongue flicked out to wet his lips, eyes half-lidded as if savoring something just beneath the surface.

“Ohh, Alina," he murmured, voice dropping into something thick and pleased. "Now you’re just making me blush.”

He winked, mocking her, teasing her, drinking in her disgust like a fine wine.

She wanted to kill him.

She wanted to claw his face off, spit at his grin, anything to make him stop looking at her like that.

But she couldn't.

She could only stand there, seething, heart slamming against her ribs as he inched back, his gaze still locked on her like a predator waiting to pounce.

And then, he grinned. That goddamn grin.

Like he’d already won.

Like he knew something she didn’t.

She couldn’t believe how much he was enjoying this—how he seemed to feed off her emotions, reveling in every ounce of hatred she threw his way. It made her stomach turn, but it also terrified her. He was twisted beyond anything she had ever imagined, and the more she fought back, the more he seemed to love it.

He took another step closer, his gaze locking onto hers with an intensity that made her blood run cold. “Come on, doll. Don’t stop now. Tell me more.” His grin stretched wider. “Tell me how much you hate me, you know how it gets me going.”

Alina’s clawed back the urge to strike him as she glared back at him. The defiance still burned within her, but she realized with a sickening clarity that no matter how much she fought, no matter how much she lashed out, he would always twist it, always turn it into something he could use against her.

He thrived on her rage. Her hatred only fed him.

Alina's pulse still hammered in her chest, her body stiff with fury and confusion. Her outburst had done nothing but fuel his amusement.

Then, without warning, the Joker stepped back. The wild glee in his eyes dimmed slightly, and his grin softened, if only by a fraction.

He just… watched her.

His eyes, sharp and calculating, dragged over her face, drinking in every flicker of emotion, every ragged breath. A slow, measured study.

"Mm, that fire. God, I love it when you fight me." A slow, deliberate pause. Then, just as she opened her mouth to hurl another insult, he tilted his head, the corner of his mouth twitching, as if some new thought had just occurred to him.

A thought that pleased him.

"But you know, dollface… maybe I do owe you an apology."

Alina blinked, thrown off by the sudden change in his demeanor. She didn’t trust it. 

"What?" she asked, her voice thick with disbelief.

He chuckled softly, a sound far less maniacal than before. "I’ve been... rough on you, haven’t I?" He rubbed his chin as if contemplating something serious. "Maybe I’ve been a little too focused on the fun and games." He waved a hand dismissively, as if brushing aside her earlier anger.

"How about we start over? No tricks this time."

She stared at him, unsure of what to make of this sudden shift. It felt like a trap. It had to be.

But before she could form a response, she heard the soft rustle of plastic. A bag. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him pull out two white takeout boxes, setting them carefully on the table. The scent hit her first, warm and mouth-watering—so different from anything she’d smelled in days.

The Joker noticed her shift, a small grin tugging at his lips. “A peace offering,” he said with a shrug, opening the first box.

Inside was a fluffy, golden omelet, so perfectly cooked it seemed to melt into itself. Next to it, crispy hash browns, fried to perfection, glistened with just the right amount of oil. Two slices of toast, already buttered, sat next to a bundle of jam packets tucked around the side—her favorite kind, strawberry.

Alina’s stomach clenched in hunger, the aroma overwhelming her senses, but he wasn’t done.

He opened the second box, and the sweet scent of pancakes filled the air. A stack of them, perfectly browned, thick and warm, sat neatly in the container. Several extra packets of butter and syrup were nestled beside them, promising indulgence beyond anything she’d had in what felt like forever.

And as if that weren’t enough, he reached into the bag again and produced two styrofoam cups—one warm, one cool. The first held hot tea, steam curling invitingly from the small hole in the lid. The other cup was filled with cold, refreshing apple juice, the condensation beading along the sides.

She couldn’t tear her eyes away. The food looked and smelled amazing, almost too good to be true, like something from another life. Her mouth watered despite herself.

She looked at him, her voice tight with skepticism.

"What do you want?"

His grin returned, but this time it was subdued, almost gentle. "Nothing, doll. Just talk. I’ve been curious about you, and I think we’ve had enough... excitement for today." He chuckled softly, pulling up a chair and gesturing for her to sit at the small table.

Her instincts screamed at her not to trust him, disgust rising in her throat as her eyes flicked to the very spot where she had been pressed against the rough wood. The memory of his mocking tone echoed in her mind, and she felt a wave of revulsion so strong it almost stopped her in her tracks.

Could she really sit there, act like none of it had happened?

But the scent of the food was too tempting, gnawing at the desperate hunger she'd been trying to ignore.

She moved slowly, watching him closely, waiting for the inevitable twist in the game.

She forced herself to sit at the table, even as a shudder ran through her body, the rough wood beneath her hands triggering flashes of the degradation she’d endured. She could barely bring herself to look at it, let alone touch it, but the Joker pushed the containers toward her, his eyes fixed on her with a strange intensity.

"Go on, eat. It’s real."

With a defiant glare, Alina snatched up the fork, stabbing the omelet with unnecessary force, as if it could bear the brunt of her fury.

She shoved a bite into her mouth, refusing to savor it—but the taste, the warmth—it was all too real. Against her will, her body responded, the simple comfort of food pulling at her defenses.

"You know," the Joker began after a stretch of silence, leaning back in his chair, "I don’t just... do this for anyone. Most people, I just take what I want, and that’s the end of it. But you..." He paused, studying her. "You’re different."

Alina swallowed, her heartbeat quickening. "Different how?" she asked cautiously.

He smirked. "You're a conundrum, dollface. Timid, quiet... like you're trying to disappear most of the time. But then, out of nowhere, there's this fire in you, something fierce." His gaze flickered with intrigue. "It’s rare, finding someone like that. Someone who doesn’t give up. Doesn’t break, no matter how hard I push."

He tilted his head, studying her with a dark fascination. "That’s what makes you interesting. You don’t fit in one box. You’re not just scared or tough, timid or fierce. You’re both." His eyes gleamed. "Makes me want to know more about you... what else you’re hiding in there."

Alina’s mind spun. This had to be another manipulation, another game. But the way he spoke, the way he seemed genuinely intrigued—it threw her. She couldn’t tell if he was playing with her or if there was something more to it.

She hesitated, unsure of what to say. But as she ate, as the warmth from the food spread through her, the tension in her body began to loosen. For the first time in days, maybe weeks, she didn’t feel like she was on the verge of collapse.

The Joker’s eyes never left her, but his grin had faded into something more unreadable, something that unnerved her even more. He seemed patient, waiting for her to open up, to say something.

"Why are you doing this?” Her voice was quieter now, almost hesitant. “Why the sudden... kindness?”

He tilted his head, as if he hadn’t fully considered the question himself. “You’ve been through a lot, doll. Maybe I’m just feeling generous.” He leaned back, the intensity of his gaze pinning her in place.

Her stomach churned, but not from hunger. This didn’t fit—the Joker she knew thrived on fear and pain. Yet here he was, offering her food without demanding anything in return, watching her with an unsettling curiosity, almost like she was some sort of experiment.

The omelet turned bitter on her tongue.

And then it hit her.

She was grateful. Grateful for the food, for the reprieve, for the fact that he wasn’t hurting her.

The realization was suffocating.

But worse than that—far worse—was the fragile comfort his presence brought. The warmth of the meal. The absence of pain. Her body, traitorous and weak, relaxed under his watchful eye, as if beginning to crave this twisted version of mercy.

A wave of revulsion crashed over her.

She should want him dead. Gone. Anything to end this nightmare.

But beneath the disgust twisting in her gut, she couldn’t ignore the horrifying truth: some part of her wanted this—the brief, sick illusion of safety he gave her tonight.

And she hated herself for it.

Her throat tightened, but she forced herself to focus on the food, desperately hoping it would distract her from the truth festering in her mind.

The meal was warm, comforting. Too comforting. She forced herself not to savor it, but each bite was better than the last. She felt herself loosening, just a little, the tightness in her chest easing.

And he didn’t seem in any rush to ruin it. That was the part that got to her—the waiting, the wondering when he would shatter this fragile peace, what game he was playing, and what would come next.

“You know,” he said, breaking the silence, his voice casual but laced with that unmistakable edge, “I noticed something interesting in your apartment.”

Alina tensed, fingers tightening around her fork. She knew he’d been there—he'd made it impossible to forget—but hearing him say it so lightly, like a shared memory, sent ice down her spine.

"What did you notice?" she asked, careful to keep her voice steady.

He leaned back, watching her with a glimmer of playful menace, like they were merely discussing the weather. “Oh, you know…” He shrugged, that crooked smile tugging at his lips. “Your art.”

Her stomach twisted. Not that. Of all the things he could have fixated on, why that?

"I gotta say," he continued. "I had no idea you were so... talented." His voice lowered as he spoke, the words rolling off his tongue with a strange mix of mockery and sincerity. "Lots of pain in those strokes, huh? Darkness... But you’ve got something going on there." His tongue flicked out, licking the corner of his mouth.

"Something... beautiful."

Alina’s pulse quickened. Beautiful? Coming from him?

She opened her mouth to argue, to deny it, but he kept talking, and it felt like he was slicing through her defenses with every word.

"You’re not just slapping paint on a canvas, doll," he said, almost sing-song, his voice taking on that playful lilt that made her heart race. "You’re working through some stuff, aren’t ya?" His grin widened as if he’d uncovered some delightful little secret. "There’s... brokenness in it. Yeah, lots of pain... but the good kind." He chuckled softly.

She gripped the edge of the table tighter, her breath catching in her throat. Why was he doing this? Why was he talking about her art this way?

"You’re painting what’s inside," he continued, tapping his temple with a gloved finger. "What’s really inside. Most people don’t have the guts for that." He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whisper.

"But you do, sweetheart."

Alina stared at him, her chest tightening.

Why was this getting to her? Why did his words feel so sharp, so cutting?

"I paint for myself," she muttered, her voice tight, trying to deflect, trying to hold onto her defenses.

"Of course you do," he replied, his grin widening, the playful tone never leaving his voice. "But doesn’t it feel good to know someone else gets it?" His voice was sweet, deceptively tender. "That someone sees the... truth in it?"

She swallowed hard, her throat tight. How did he know? How could he see her so clearly when no one else ever had?

No one had ever really acknowledged her art like this. No one had ever seen it that deeply.

"You don’t have to say this," she whispered, her voice trembling. "You’re just... messing with me."

His laugh was soft. "Oh, dollface, believe me, I mess with a lot of things, but I don’t mess with art." He wagged a finger at her, almost scolding. "Art’s where the soul gets laid bare, where all the little secrets come out to play." He tilted his head, eyes gleaming with mischief.

"And you... you’ve got a lot of secrets, don’t you?"

She clenched her fists in her lap, trying to steady the tremor in her hands.

She hated how close he was to the truth

"It’s like... I don’t know," he mused, waving his hand theatrically, "a Gothic novel, yeah? A little tragedy here, a little beauty there. That’s what you’re after, right? You’re painting the stuff everyone else looks away from. The broken, ugly parts of life. The stuff that... hurts."

Alina’s breath hitched. Gothic. Tragic. Beautiful. He was saying all the things she had always hoped someone would see in her work, but had never dared to believe anyone would.

"I don’t care what you think," she managed to say, but the words lacked conviction. She knew he heard it.

His grin grew wider, his eyes gleaming with delight. "Oh, come on, sweetheart," he purred. "I see through you. You don’t have to pretend with me." He gestured to the air between them. "We’ve already got this... connection. You can feel it, can’t you?"

She wanted to deny it, to shove him away and reject everything he said. But the truth clawed at her, insidious and undeniable.

There was something between them—something twisted, unspoken, that had sparked the moment their eyes met in the bank. He had seen through her defenses, her pain, and even the darkness she kept hidden.

He saw her in ways no one else ever had—he understood.

And that terrified her.

"Most people," he continued, leaning back casually, "they’re too scared to face the ugly parts of themselves. They shove it down, hide it away, slap on a happy face. But you..." He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "You get it. You see the world for what it is, and you’re not afraid to paint it."

Her heart pounded in her chest, her thoughts a tangled mess. How was he getting to her like this? How had he broken through so easily?

"You paint what you feel," he said, his voice low and deliberate. "You paint what hurts. And that’s why it’s beautiful." He stood up slowly, his eyes still locked onto hers, that unsettling smile never leaving his face.

"That’s why I like you."

His stare left her feeling stripped bare, vulnerable. What was happening? She couldn’t tell if this was manipulation or something else. Yet the way he spoke... it was as if he could see straight through her, as if he understood her better than she even understood herself.

And that scared her more than anything.

"You don’t know me," she whispered, her voice trembling, her hands shaking in her lap.

He chuckled, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. "Maybe not. But I know enough." He tapped his head again, smiling. "And the more I know, the more I like."

Her breath caught in her throat as he turned toward the door, his casual steps sending chills down her spine. He paused at the threshold, his hand resting on the handle as he looked back at her.

"Get some rest, dollface," he said, his voice soft but laced with that familiar menace. "We’ll pick up where we left off later."

The door clicked shut behind him, and Alina sat there, the air suddenly too thin. Her breath shuddered in her chest, her heart pounding hard enough to make her head spin.

She stared at her trembling hands.

What had just happened?

He had gotten inside her head—deeper than anyone ever had—and it terrified her. She wanted to dismiss his words as part of his twisted game. He was the Joker, after all—a monster, a master manipulator. None of it could be real.

But it was.

He had seen her. Not the mask she wore for the world, but the raw, broken pieces she poured into her paintings—the parts no one else had ever truly understood.

And as much as she hated it, hated him… a small, broken part of her felt relief.

Relief that someone finally saw her.

The thought made her stomach churn.

She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the feeling away, but it lingered, heavy in her chest. He had reached into the darkest parts of her and pulled them into the light, and instead of recoiling, she felt seen… and understood.

Her breath hitched.

And then came the worst realization of all—

She hadn’t wanted him to leave.

Her body went rigid. No. That couldn’t be true. She hated him.

But the more she told herself that, the more the truth festered—raw and reeling.

Because in his absence, the room felt colder. The silence, more unforgiving.

And the memory of his voice—that low, mocking purr—echoed in the hollow spaces he’d left behind.

Her mind betrayed her, conjuring the phantom heat of his presence, the morbid comfort of knowing exactly where the danger was… instead of fearing when it might return.

What had he done to her?

She didn’t know where the hatred ended and the twisted connection began.

She buried her face in her hands, the weight of her confusion pressing down like a vice. This was what she wanted—freedom, escape. But in the suffocating silence, all she could think about was him.

And that realization shattered her.

More completely than anything he had ever done to her.

___. ♡ ✦ ♧━━━♢ ✦ ♠️ ✦ ♢━━━♧ ✦ ♡. ___

A/N: Sorry this one took a bit to get out! The last chapter left me so shook that I just had to skip ahead and fully write and edit the first official smut chapter 😂!

I know I’ve been dragging this slow burn out, but don’t worry—the next chapter? Things go down. And the one after that? Pretty sure it’s going to make us all scream (because writing it almost killed me, lol).

Alina’s in deep, and things are only getting messier. The lines between fear, desire, and control are blurring. Poor girl has no idea what's coming...

Thank you so much for all the love on the last chapter! Your comments seriously motivated me to keep writing and perfecting this story. Knowing real people are out there enjoying this means everything. So please, if you’re up for it, let me know what you think of the story so far! Even a simple emoji makes my day! 💚☺️💜

___. ♡ ✦ ♧━━━♢ ✦ ♠️ ✦ ♢━━━♧ ✦ ♡. ___

Taglist: 💚 (please let me know if you'd like to be added)

@furisodespirit

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[gothamite-rambler]

Jason after returning from the 'Batman who laughs' universe where Batman killed Joker and... Stuff unfolded.

Damian: Jason, how was the other world-

Jason hugged Damian tightly surprising the young boy who patted him on the back confused.

Damian (flatly): All right, confirmation I died there.

Jason pulled away and chuckled.

Jason: Not really, you were alive, but not yourself and terrifying. Not in a cool way either.

Damian: Oh... Okay well thank you for the hug then.

Bruce woke up having fallen asleep at his computer and went over to Jason.

Bruce: Jason how was-

Jason hugged Bruce as well. Bruce eyes shifted his eyes confused but quickly figured out what Jason saw.

Bruce: Right... I was evil in the place you landed.

Jason: Mm-hm.

Bruce (smirking): By killing who?

Jason (chuckling annoyed): Just take the hug.

Bruce shrugged, patting Jason on the back and silently knowing he was right about never killing the Joker himself.

[xilinjiangart]

Tired of defending myself, I’ve come to terms with replying to batjokes/joker hate the way they expect.

Like, “joker killed jason todd!!” Good for him. He should do it again, once was actually not enough.

It is probably not the best way to approach these things, but it IS funny lmao

[terracebatman]

Batman Fan Film with comedy twist.

[ladyeckland28]

Batman: Shadows Of Madness (Part 2 of the shadows saga)

A fan fiction by Ecky

**Disclaimer:**

"Shadows of Madness" is a non-commercial fan fiction story created by and for fans of the Batman franchise. This work is not affiliated with, endorsed, or approved by DC Comics, Warner Bros. Entertainment, or any other official entities associated with Batman and related characters. All characters such as Batman, Joker, Penguin, Riddler, and others from the Batman universe are the property of their respective trademark and copyright holders.

The original characters of Ms. Racey Rhymes, The Chimera, Revan (Samantha Faith), Hannah, and Sarah are creations of the author and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or other fictional characters, is purely coincidental.

This story is intended solely for entertainment purposes and is not for commercial use. No infringement of copyright or trademark is intended.

The Characters:

Batman as himself

The Joker as himself

@raceyrhymes as Ms Rhyme's

@solesofwonder as Hannah and Sarah

@samcrosfaith as Samantha Faith aka Revan

And introducing @smallzster as Chimera

The cold, sterile room buzzed with an undercurrent of malevolent energy. Batman, the Dark Knight of Gotham, found himself strapped to a chair, his utility belt gone, surrounded by an array of ominous machinery. Before him stood Ms. Racey Rhymes, her eyes gleaming with a manic intensity that sent chills down his spine.

"Welcome to the grand stage, my caped muse," Ms. Rhymes purred, her voice a discordant melody. "Are you ready for your starring role?"

Batman's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing behind his cowl. "Whatever you're planning, Rhymes, it won't work. Gotham has faced worse than you."

A giggle escaped Ms. Rhymes' painted lips. "Oh, my dear Dark Knight, you misunderstand. I'm not here to face Gotham. I'm here to remake it. And you, my brooding bat, will be my masterpiece."

She snapped her fingers, and a figure emerged from the shadows. Tall and lithe, with features that seemed to shift between masculine and feminine, the newcomer exuded an aura of calculated menace.

"Allow me to introduce my collaborator," Ms. Rhymes said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "The Chimera. A true artist of the mind."

The Chimera stepped forward, their face hidden behind a mask that seemed to morph and change with each passing moment. When they spoke, their voice was a disorienting blend of tones and pitches.

"Hello, Batman. I've been looking forward to our session."

Batman's mind raced, trying to place this new threat. "You're one of Crane's students," he growled. "I remember the files. You disappeared years ago."

The Chimera tilted their head, the gesture unnervingly birdlike. "Very good, Detective. But Dr. Crane was merely the beginning of my journey. Now, I'm something... more."

Ms. Rhymes clapped her hands together in delight. "Enough chitchat! Let the performance begin!"

The Chimera moved to a control panel, their fingers dancing across the keys. Suddenly, a fine mist began to fill the room, and Batman felt his senses beginning to blur.

"What... what is this?" he gasped, fighting against the rising tide of disorientation.

"Consider it a cocktail of my own design," The Chimera replied, their voice seeming to come from everywhere at once. "Fear toxin, mixed with a dash of hallucinogens and a sprinkle of my own special additions. We're going to peel back those layers of sanity, Batman. One by one."

As the mist thickened, Batman's vision began to swim. The room around him warped and twisted, melting away into a nightmarish landscape. The last thing he heard before succumbing to the hallucinations was Ms. Rhymes' singsong voice:

"In shadows deep and madness vast,

Gotham's hero breathes his last.

A mind once strong, now torn apart,

Welcome, Batman, to your new start."

* * *

Across town, in an abandoned warehouse that served as their temporary base, Hannah, Sarah, and their unlikely ally Revan – now revealed as Samantha Faith – pored over maps and documents.

"We've checked every known hideout," Hannah said, frustration evident in her voice. "Where could Rhymes be keeping him?"

Sarah placed a comforting hand on her partner's shoulder. "We'll find him, Han. We have to."

Samantha, her mask off but still cutting an imposing figure, studied the map intently. "Rhymes is theatrical. She'll want a stage for her 'performance.' Somewhere significant."

"Like what?" Sarah asked, her brow furrowed.

"Wait," Hannah said, her eyes widening. "What about Arkham, not the new one? The old asylum's been abandoned for years. It's perfect – isolated, symbolic..."

Samantha nodded slowly. "And with a history of madness. It fits Rhymes' MO."

As they began to plan their assault on Arkham, Sarah couldn't help but voice the question that had been nagging at her. "Samantha... why are you helping us? You were working for Rhymes."

Samantha's eyes hardened. "I was hired to do a job. To test Batman, to challenge him. Not... this. There's no honor in breaking a warrior's mind."

Hannah studied the woman before her. "And the whole Revan persona? The baseball bat?"

A small smile tugged at Samantha's lips. "Every warrior needs their weapon. And sometimes, the best disguise is one that plays into people's expectations."

As the trio finalized their plans, the air was thick with tension. They all knew that time was running out for Batman – and for Gotham.

* * *

In the depths of his toxin-induced nightmare, Batman found himself in a twisted version of Gotham. The sky above was a sickly green, and the buildings seemed to breathe and pulse with malevolent life.

"Well, well, well," a familiar voice cackled. "Look who's come to play!"

Batman spun around to find himself face to face with the Joker, his grin wider and more manic than ever.

"You're not real," Batman growled, his fists clenching. "This is all in my head."

The Joker's laughter echoed off the writhing buildings. "Oh, Batsy! Don't you know? The stuff in our heads is the realest thing there is! Now come on, let's have some fun!"

Suddenly, Batman was surrounded by a horde of grinning, laughing maniacs, all wearing the Joker's face. As he fought them off, each punch seemed to make two more appear.

"You can't win this one, Batman," the Joker taunted. "Why not join us? Think of the laughs we could have together!"

Batman gritted his teeth, fighting against the rising tide of chaos. "Never," he snarled. "I'll never become like you."

But even as he said it, a small voice in the back of his mind whispered, "Are you so sure?"

* * *

Back in the real world, The Chimera monitored Batman's vital signs with clinical detachment. "Fascinating," they murmured. "His mental resilience is truly remarkable."

Ms. Rhymes peered at the screens, her eyes glittering with malicious glee. "But he's cracking, isn't he? I can almost hear the fissures forming in that rigid psyche of his."

The Chimera nodded slowly. "Yes, but we must be cautious. Push too hard, too fast, and his mind might shatter completely. We want to remake him, not destroy him utterly."

Ms. Rhymes waved a dismissive hand. "Details, details. Just keep pushing, my dear Chimera. I want to see what lurks in the deepest, darkest corners of the Bat's mind."

As they spoke, neither noticed the small drone hovering outside the window, its camera capturing every moment of their sinister collaboration.

* * *

Hannah, Sarah, and Samantha crouched in the shadows outside the old Arkham Asylum, their eyes fixed on the crumbling structure before them.

"I'm picking up heat signatures on the top floor," Hannah whispered, consulting a handheld device. "Looks like that's where they're keeping him."

Sarah nodded, her grip tightening on her escrima sticks. "So what's the plan? We can't just burst in there. Who knows what they've done to Batman's mind by now."

Samantha's eyes narrowed behind her mask. "We need a distraction. Something to draw their attention while we extract Batman."

Hannah's lips curled into a grim smile. "I think I have just the thing. But you're not going to like it."

As she outlined her plan, Sarah and Samantha exchanged worried glances. It was risky, borderline insane. But then again, in a city like Gotham, sometimes insanity was the only sane response.

* * *

Deep in the labyrinth of his own mind, Batman stumbled through a nightmare version of Crime Alley. The walls seemed to weep blood, and every shadow held a pair of gleaming, malevolent eyes.

"Why do you keep fighting, Bruce?" a voice whispered on the wind. Batman turned to see his parents standing before him, their forms flickering like old film.

"Mom? Dad?" he croaked, his voice breaking.

Thomas Wayne's face twisted into a sneer. "You've failed us, son. Failed Gotham. Look around you – the city is as dark and corrupt as ever."

"No," Batman protested, shaking his head. "I've made a difference. I've saved lives."

Martha Wayne's laugh was cold and cruel. "Saved lives? Oh, Bruce. How many have died because of your crusade? How many have suffered because you refuse to do what's necessary?"

As his parents' accusations rained down upon him, Batman felt something inside him begin to crack. A small part of his mind screamed that this wasn't real, that it was all a toxin-induced nightmare. But the doubt, the guilt, the fear – it all felt so terribly, painfully real.

* * *

In the control room, The Chimera's eyes widened as they studied the readouts. "Remarkable," they breathed. "He's accessing trauma so deeply buried, I doubt even he was fully aware of it."

Ms. Rhymes leaned in close, her breath hot on The Chimera's neck. "And what do we do with all this delicious trauma, my dear?"

The Chimera's fingers danced across the controls. "We amplify it. We twist it. And then, when he's at his most vulnerable, we offer him a way out. A new identity, free from all that pain and guilt."

Ms. Rhymes' grin was positively feral. "A new Clown Prince of Crime. Oh, I do love poetry in motion."

Suddenly, alarms began to blare throughout the asylum. The Chimera's head snapped up, their eyes narrowing. "We have intruders."

Ms. Rhymes' face darkened. "Deal with them. I don't care how. Just make sure our performance isn't interrupted."

As The Chimera hurried from the room, Ms. Rhymes turned back to the monitors, her eyes fixed on Batman's twisting form. "It's just you and me now, my dark muse. Let's see what other horrors we can conjure up, shall we?"

* * *

Outside Arkham, chaos reigned. Hannah's "distraction" had taken the form of a series of explosions around the perimeter of the asylum, each one timed to draw attention away from their true goal.

As Rhymes' goons scrambled to respond to the perceived attack, Samantha, Sarah, and Hannah slipped inside through a service entrance.

"Remember," Samantha whispered as they made their way through the asylum's twisted corridors, "we don't know what state Batman will be in when we find him. Be prepared for anything."

Sarah nodded grimly. "Let's just hope we're not too late."

As they ascended to the upper floors, the sounds of conflict echoed through the building. Hannah's lips curved into a small smile. "Sounds like our diversion is working."

Suddenly, a figure stepped out of the shadows before them. The Chimera, their mask seeming to ripple in the dim light.

"Well," The Chimera said, their voice a disorienting blend of tones, "it seems we have some uninvited guests. How... intriguing."

Samantha stepped forward, her baseball bat held at the ready. "Stand aside. We're here for Batman."

The Chimera tilted their head, the gesture unnervingly birdlike. "I'm afraid I can't allow that. You see, we're in the middle of a very delicate procedure. Any interruption could be... catastrophic."

Without warning, The Chimera lashed out, a spray of some unknown substance erupting from their sleeve. Samantha managed to dodge, but Hannah and Sarah weren't as lucky. As the mist enveloped them, their eyes widened in horror.

"Run!" Samantha shouted, charging at The Chimera. "I'll hold them off! Find Batman!"

As Samantha engaged The Chimera in a fierce battle, Hannah and Sarah stumbled away, their minds already beginning to cloud with hallucinations.

"We have to... have to keep going," Hannah gasped, her vision swimming. "Batman... we need to..."

Sarah gripped her partner's hand tightly. "Together," she said firmly. "Whatever happens, we face it together."

As they staggered down the corridor, the walls seemed to breathe and pulse around them, The Chimera's toxin taking full effect. But still, they pressed on, driven by a determination that ran deeper than any fear.

* * *

In the depths of his fractured psyche, Batman found himself standing atop Wayne Tower, the city spread out before him like a diseased corpse. The sky above was a roiling mass of green and purple, punctuated by flashes of sickly lightning.

"It's quite a view, isn't it?" a voice said from behind him. Batman turned to see the Joker standing there, but this time, the clown's face was a perfect mirror of his own.

"What... what is this?" Batman growled, his voice hoarse.

The Joker-Batman grinned, the expression grotesque on the familiar features. "This is liberation, Brucie! This is what happens when you finally let go of all that guilt, all that responsibility. When you embrace the joke that is existence!"

Batman shook his head, trying to clear the fog from his mind. "No. This isn't real. I would never..."

"Oh, but you would," the Joker-Batman cackled. "You will! Think about it – how many times have you been one bad day away from becoming just like the monsters you fight? How thin is that line you walk?"

As the Joker-Batman's words washed over him, Batman felt something deep inside beginning to give way. The weight of his mission, the endless parade of tragedy and horror he'd witnessed – it all came crashing down at once.

And for the first time in as long as he could remember, Batman began to laugh.

* * *

In the control room, Ms. Rhymes watched the monitors with growing excitement. "Yes!" she crowed. "Yes, that's it! Laugh, my dark knight! Embrace the madness!"

She was so engrossed in the spectacle before her that she didn't notice the door opening behind her. Hannah and Sarah, their minds still reeling from The Chimera's toxin, stumbled into the room.

"Stop... stop this," Hannah gasped, her voice barely above a whisper.

Ms. Rhymes spun around, her eyes widening in surprise before narrowing in anger. "You! How did you get past The Chimera?"

Sarah raised her escrima sticks, though her hands shook with the effort. "It doesn't matter. We're here to stop you."

A cruel smile spread across Ms. Rhymes' face. "Oh, my dears. You're far too late for that. Batman is already falling. Soon, he'll be reborn as Gotham's new agent of chaos. And there's nothing you can do to stop it."

As if to punctuate her words, Batman's laughter echoed through the room, growing louder and more unhinged with each passing moment.

Hannah and Sarah exchanged a desperate look. They were running out of time.

* * *

In the corridor outside, Samantha and The Chimera continued their fierce battle. The Chimera's fighting style was a disorienting blend of techniques, their body seeming to flow like water around Samantha's attacks.

"You're good," The Chimera said, their voice a mix of admiration and malice. "But you're fighting for the wrong side. Can't you see the beauty in what we're creating?"

Samantha's eyes narrowed behind her mask. "There's no beauty in breaking a warrior's mind. Only cowardice."

The Chimera laughed, the sound echoing off the asylum's walls. "Oh, my dear. We're not breaking his mind. We're setting it free!"

As they fought, the sounds of Batman's laughter grew louder, more manic. Samantha felt a chill run down her spine. They were running out of time.

* * *

In the twisted landscape of his mind, Batman stood on the edge of Wayne Tower, teetering between sanity and madness. The Joker-Batman stood beside him, arm draped over his shoulders like an old friend.

"Come on, Brucie," the Joker-Batman cajoled. "One little step. That's all it takes. One step, and all the pain, all the responsibility – it all goes away. Isn't that what you've always wanted?"

Batman looked out over the nightmare version of Gotham, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts and emotions. Part of him knew this wasn't real, that it was all a toxin-induced hallucination. But another part, a part that had been buried deep for so long, whispered that maybe, just maybe, this was the answer he'd been looking for all along.

*****

Batman stood on the precipice, both literally and figuratively. The Joker-Batman's words echoed in his mind, a siren song of chaos and release. For a moment that seemed to stretch into eternity, he teetered on the edge.

Then, with a laugh that started low and grew into a manic cackle, Batman stepped off the ledge.

As he fell through the nightmare cityscape, his laughter echoed off the twisted buildings. The world around him began to blur and shift, colors swirling together in a dizzying kaleidoscope of madness.

* * *

In the control room, Ms. Rhymes watched the monitors with growing excitement. "Yes!" she crowed. "Yes, that's it! Fall, my dark knight! Fall into the abyss of chaos!"

Hannah and Sarah, still fighting against the effects of The Chimera's toxin, struggled to make sense of what they were seeing.

"We have to... have to stop this," Hannah gasped, her vision swimming.

Sarah reached out, gripping her partner's hand tightly. "How? We can barely stand..."

Ms. Rhymes turned to them, her eyes glittering with malicious glee. "Oh, my dears. You can't stop this. You're witnessing the birth of a new era for Gotham. The fall of its greatest hero... and the rise of its most terrifying villain!"

* * *

Outside in the corridor, Samantha and The Chimera's battle had reached a fever pitch. Both combatants were showing signs of fatigue, but neither was willing to give an inch.

"You're fighting a losing battle," The Chimera panted, their mask seeming to ripple with each breath. "Even if you defeat me, you can't undo what's been done to Batman's mind."

Samantha's eyes narrowed behind her mask. "Maybe not. But I can make sure you pay for what you've done."

With a burst of speed, Samantha feinted left, then brought her baseball bat around in a vicious arc. The Chimera, caught off guard, couldn't dodge in time. The bat connected with their mask with a sickening crunch.

The Chimera stumbled back, their mask cracking and falling away in pieces. As it did, Samantha's eyes widened in shock.

"You... you're..."

But before she could finish, The Chimera lashed out with a hidden blade, forcing Samantha back. Taking advantage of her momentary surprise, they turned and fled down the corridor.

Samantha hesitated for a moment, torn between pursuit and the need to help Batman. With a growl of frustration, she turned towards the control room. Batman had to be the priority.

* * *

In the swirling vortex of his mind, Batman continued to fall. As he did, he felt his very identity begin to unravel. Memories flashed before his eyes – his parents' murder, his years of training, his countless battles to protect Gotham. But now, each memory was tinged with a manic hilarity, as if every tragedy in his life had suddenly become the punchline to some cosmic joke.

"That's it, Brucie!" the Joker-Batman's voice echoed around him. "Let it all go! Embrace the madness!"

As he fell deeper into the abyss of his own psyche, Batman felt something fundamental shifting within him. The rigid moral code that had defined him for so long began to crack and splinter.

And still, he laughed.

* * *

In the control room, the tension had reached a breaking point. Ms. Rhymes stood before the monitors, her arms spread wide as if conducting some twisted symphony. Hannah and Sarah, still reeling from The Chimera's toxin, struggled to formulate a plan.

Suddenly, the door burst open, and Samantha charged in, her baseball bat at the ready.

"Step away from the controls," she growled.

Ms. Rhymes spun around, her eyes widening in surprise before narrowing in anger. "Revan... or should I say, Samantha? I must admit, I'm disappointed. I thought you understood the beauty of what we're creating here."

Samantha's grip tightened on her bat. "There's no beauty in this. Only madness and pain."

As they faced off, the room filled with the sound of Batman's laughter, growing louder and more unhinged with each passing moment.

Hannah, fighting through the haze of the toxin, stumbled towards the controls. "We have to... have to shut it down..."

But before she could reach them, Ms. Rhymes pulled out a small remote. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," she said, her voice dripping with malice. "One push of this button, and Batman's mind is wiped clean. Everything he was, everything he believed in – gone in an instant."

The room froze, the tension palpable. Samantha's eyes darted between Ms. Rhymes and the monitors showing Batman's writhing form. Sarah, supporting a still-woozy Hannah, glared at the madwoman before them.

"What do you want?" Samantha asked, her voice tight.

Ms. Rhymes' smile was all teeth. "Want? My dear, I want what I've always wanted. To show Gotham – to show the world – the true face of chaos. And what better way to do that than to turn its greatest protector into its worst nightmare?"

As she spoke, the monitors behind her flickered. Batman's laughter had reached a fever pitch, and suddenly, it cut off. The silence that followed was deafening.

All eyes turned to the screens. Batman's body had gone still, his face hidden in shadow.

"No," Sarah whispered, her eyes wide with horror.

Ms. Rhymes' grin widened. "Yes. Watch closely, my dears. You're about to witness the rebirth of a legend."

* * *

In the depths of his fractured psyche, Batman stood in a void. The swirling chaos around him had stilled, leaving him in a space of perfect, empty blackness.

"So," he said, his voice echoing in the emptiness, "this is madness."

The Joker-Batman appeared before him, but now, instead of a mirror image, it was a swirling, ever-changing figure – sometimes the Joker, sometimes Batman, sometimes a nightmarish blend of the two.

"Not madness, Brucie," it said, its voice a cacophony of laughter and growls. "Clarity. You've finally seen the joke that is existence. The futility of your crusade. The utter absurdity of it all."

Batman looked down at his hands, watching as his costume began to shift and change, colors bleeding and swirling.

"And now?" he asked, his voice utterly calm.

The figure before him grinned, the expression stretching beyond the limits of a human face. "Now, you become what you were always meant to be. Gotham's darkest knight. Its clown prince of crime. Its harbinger of beautiful, perfect chaos."

As the words washed over him, Batman felt the last vestiges of his old self falling away. In its place rose something new. Something terrifying. Something... free.

He threw back his head and laughed, the sound echoing through the void and beyond, into the world of the waking.

* * *

In the control room, all eyes were fixed on the monitors as Batman's body began to stir. Slowly, he sat up, his movements fluid and unnaturally graceful.

"No," Samantha breathed, her bat slipping from nerveless fingers. "What have you done?"

Ms. Rhymes' eyes gleamed with triumph. "I've given Gotham its new god of chaos. Behold, the birth of a legend!"

On the screen, Batman turned towards the camera. As his face came into view, a collective gasp filled the room. His cowl had split and peeled back, revealing a face that was a nightmarish blend of Batman and the Joker. His skin was pale, almost white, with streaks of black that mimicked the design of his cowl. His lips were stretched in a grin that was too wide, too full of teeth to be natural.

But it was his eyes that truly chilled the blood. They burned with a manic intensity, swirling with colors that shouldn't exist in nature.

When he spoke, his voice was a blend of Batman's gravelly growl and the Joker's high-pitched cackle. "Gotham," he said, his grin widening impossibly further, "your Dark Knight has fallen. But fear not – a new protector rises. One who understands that the only way to save this city... is to embrace the madness."

He stood, his costume rippling and changing. The blacks and greys bled into purples and greens, while still maintaining the silhouette of the Bat. The result was a terrifying fusion of Batman and the Joker, a creature of nightmare made flesh.

"The joke's on you, Gotham," he continued, spreading his arms wide. "You thought you needed a hero. But what you really need... is a little chaos."

With that, he threw back his head and laughed. It was a sound that contained multitudes – the deep, restrained chuckle of Bruce Wayne, the gravelly growl of Batman, the manic cackle of the Joker, and something else. Something new and terrifying.

In the control room, Ms. Rhymes drank in the sight with undisguised glee. "Beautiful," she breathed. "Absolutely beautiful."

Samantha, Hannah, and Sarah watched in horror, the full weight of their failure crashing down upon them. They had come to save Batman, to stop Ms. Rhymes' plan. Instead, they had witnessed the fall of Gotham's greatest hero and the birth of its most terrifying villain.

As the newly reborn Batman-Joker hybrid continued to laugh, his voice echoing through the asylum and beyond, a chill ran down the spines of all who heard it. For in that laugh was a promise – a promise of chaos, of madness, of a Gotham reshaped in the image of its fallen hero.

The Dark Knight had fallen. And in his place rose something far deadlier – a creature of shadow and laughter, of justice twisted into madness. Gotham's new Clown Prince of Crime had arrived.

And the city would never be the same again.

As the screens went dark, plunging the control room into shadows broken only by the eerie glow of emergency lights, Ms. Rhymes turned to her stunned audience, her eyes gleaming with triumphant madness.

"And so," she said, her voice dripping with malicious glee, "the curtain falls on this act of our grand performance. But fear not, my dears. The show is far from over. In fact..." Her grin widened, becoming something feral and terrifying. "It's only just beginning."

The asylum echoed with the sound of mad laughter – Ms. Rhymes', the newly reborn Batman's, and perhaps, most chillingly of all, the laughter of a city teetering on the brink of total chaos.

In the growing darkness, as the weight of their failure pressed down upon them, Samantha, Hannah, and Sarah exchanged grim looks. They had lost this battle, but the war for Gotham's soul was far from over.

The question now was: in a city without its Dark Knight, who would rise to face the coming storm?

[trixie-in-wonderland]

To celebrate the release of my Mysterious Joker × Twisted Wonderland fan fiction story, Miracle Maker In Twisted Wonderland, I decided to make this tag/drawing challenge where artists draw their TWST OCs or Yuu/MC character(s) as Phantom Thieves!

These drawings will be in the form of character cards. Here are the background pictures for the R and SR cards (if you want to draw your character as an SSR card, then you can draw your own background for it)

R: SR:

Challenge Rules 👇

There is no need to have any knowledge of the Mysterious Joker fandom to do this challenge.

Please reblog this post if you are doing the challenge (you don't have to tag anyone)

When you post your drawing, please add a link to this post and add the tag "Gathering Of TWST Phantom Thieves Challenge"

Your characters' outfits must be based on other phantom thieves (or regular thieves) outfits. But the character you based your outfit on don't have to be from Mysterious Joker (for example: Kaito Kid from Magic Kaitou 1412, or Sampo Koski from Honkai Star Rail)

Here are some phantom thief outfit examples from Mysterious Joker:

The outfits color scheme must be the same as your OC's dorm color scheme. But if you're doing a Yuu/MC character, then you can do whatever color scheme you want.

You may give your character a mask or monocle to wear on their face.

You can draw more than one character for this challenge. But please post them separately.

If your Yuu/MC character(s) are from different fandoms, you are still allowed to do a drawing of them.

You are allowed to make a drawing of canon TWST characters for this challenge.

You are allowed to draw groovy versions of your cards.

Do not draw someone else's OC or Yuu/MC character(s)! Not unless you get permission or they commission you. If you are commissioned or given permission, please tag the owner of the OC or Yuu/MC character(s).

Do not add gore, blood, or nudity to your drawings.

Artists who are tagged don't have to do this challenge.

Do not tag an artist who has already been tagged.

Tagging: @oya-oya-okay , @bunnwich , @tickledpink31 , @cheekinpermission , @cozymochi , @ashipiko , & @cheerleaderman

[crypticpawpoems]

Joker Acronym

Just the greatest and most

Outrageous psychotic

Killer! He is

Everything you could ever want,

Right down to his ruby red smile.

---------------------------------------------

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