#joker/original female character

[gotham25052]

Dark Waters Part 8

As the social fabric of Gotham begins to fray and the Joker's intrusion into her life escalates, Anna struggles to maintain control. But is she threatened by the Joker or by something within herself?

Contents: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 9 Part 10

Overall fic warnings: Explicit violence and explicit sexual content.

Chapter warnings: 18+, NSFW, blood, violence, sexual content

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Author's note: Uh oh…

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I think everyone reading is well aware, but I do just want to mention the obvious, that this is a fictional, fantasy story, with the spotlight on two very flawed characters. If you find some kind of wormhole or magic passageway to the fictional world of Gotham and find the Joker there, do whatever you want! But in this world, no level of violence is ok in a relationship. So that's just my little reality check. I'm sure you don't need to hear it, but I'm just making sure.

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Now, let's go through the wardrobe and get back to the story. :)

(I am changing it up a little this week and sharing a very short chapter, compared to the usual overwhelmingly long one, lol).

The Joker came to see Annie often now. Sometimes he came and took her immediately, entering the apartment and bringing her into his embrace so quickly she could feel the cool night air clinging to his purple jacket. At other times he would come in, eat whatever he found on the counter, and talk to her about something he'd seen that day, or lightly interrogate her about her experiences in Gotham.

Sooner or later, they always ended up in each other's arms. He seemed to study her, learning every little reaction from the surfaces of her body. His attention was an unusual luxury, a precious thing that she treasured. But as a person used to finding protection in hiding from the outside world, she was also a little unnerved by his level of understanding of her thoughts and desires.

He was more difficult to understand - so much of him was hidden from her. But anything she noticed that made him call out or catch his breath, she would remember it for him. There was always the possibility he was leading her in the wrong direction on purpose, with his gift for deceit, but generally she felt that he was very straightforward with physical intimacy, almost as if it made more sense to him than other everyday interactions. Maybe because it was more direct, more genuine, more natural.

As the time passed, Annie seemed to adjust to her new reality, balancing out some of the habits of her old self and the newfound freedom she felt when she was with him. He was able to coax her into speaking more often, and she took on the daily tasks that were required to provide life's necessities.

After their first nights together, he had quickly overhauled her limited wardrobe. He must have waited until she was sleeping and then removed every scrap of clothing from her closet. In their place in the morning she found a hodgepodge collection of short skirts, heels, and strappy things - halter tops and backless shirts. Her new underwear seemed to provide decoration more than concealment. Though he wouldn't tell her anything about it, she strongly suspected that his friend Genevieve was somehow behind the choice of clothes. Annie was really quite lost with it all but obediently wore whatever she found there. She had her jacket for going outside, so it didn't matter too much to her what she wore inside. And he seemed to delight in it, finding a hundred ways to take the scant clothing off of her when he visited.

On the day it happened, he walked into the apartment with a distracted look and drew out his knife, alarming her. He extended his arm into the air and then brought the knife down into the cheap countertop, puncturing the poorly made plastic laminate. The force of it caused his hand to slide down the blade, giving him a terrible cut over his palm. He didn't cry out but simply pulled up his arm and looked at the blood oozing from the wound, until she brought a towel and wrapped it around his hand.

She had a hard time staying calm and figuring out what to say, but she finally came out with a shaky "What happened?" as she held the towel firmly over the cut. He looked up at her and then dug into his pocket, bringing out a roughly torn piece of newspaper. She unfolded it as best she could with her free hand and read through the beginning of the article.

The Gotham Gazette Vol LXVIII, No. 23

Mayor Harvey Dent finally scored a victory against the infamous Joker today when the largest arms seizure in Gotham history resulted in the confiscation of six freight cars worth of weapons this morning. Everything from ordinary pistols to military-grade weapons and grenades were found.

Since the food crisis and supply chain disruptions, a nationwide shortage of weapons has been an issue for police and criminals alike, so this large-scale seizure puts the odds back in favor of the Gotham authorities…

She sat by him that evening, making sure his hand stopped bleeding and quietly comforting him, knowing it must have been a devastating blow by his unusual silence. Secretly she hoped that fewer weapons might mean less violence - his obsession with fighting the authorities and tearing down the rules of society was not a passion she shared. But in a world where the backbone of the community - the police, the government, and the law - had largely abandoned her, she didn't feel any sense of guilt or a moral dilemma in comforting him after his loss. This was something about her conservative rural upbringing that did stay with her. The focus on one's own family and the disregard for the outside world, for good or for ill, made her well-suited to be the Joker's companion. Although the hesitation of the women of her isolated community to question the men's actions had often infuriated Annie when she was growing up, that habit had also ingrained itself into her personality and probably contributed to her acceptance of his position as the head of Gotham's criminal empire.

The next day they were on the bed and he was absentmindedly stroking her cheek with his fingertips. She moved to get up and he pulled her back immediately, returning her to exactly the same position, and he continued his repetitive caress. She was probably wise to decide to simply stay where he placed her. He did this more and more often after the weapons raid, seemingly distracted, his eyes focused far away. Sometimes while he was sleeping she washed his shirt and pants by hand, hanging them up to dry in the shower, to maintain some level of cleanliness, as he seemed to be letting himself go much more than usual. But his energy and passion for Annie, if anything, grew stronger, and it felt like he must be escaping from the frustrations of his days in her embrace.

Now he entered the apartment like any other day, but she soon noticed that something was off. He was preoccupied, agitated. He hung up the purple jacket and took off the gloves deliberately, with much more care than usual. She wondered if there was some new development in the shortage of firearms. She had heard his men talking in low voices about their growing weakness in the face of the police and the rival gangs of Gotham.

But when he walked toward her with his jaw clenched and his mouth curved into a subtle smile, she knew that it must be about her.

"It turns out that my kitten has been very bad," he began ominously. "I found out she wasn't the only one who wanted to leave her Church. There were others, but they didn't get out. Kitten did. She left them all behind without a backward glance." He said it in a sing-song voice that contrasted with his menacing expression. "How did she do that?" He wagged his finger at her, a half smile raising one side of his messily painted mouth.

"You know, it's so unusual for someone to be able to escape from the Church. And a woman leaving, no one ever heard of it before you, Annie."

As soon as he had mentioned her past, she stood unmoving, not appearing to even breath. She just stared at him with wide eyes. "I was suspicious early on, when you first told me about it, and I sent one of my men up there to your little town to investigate you. I almost forgot about it, but he got back to me today."

He came closer, close enough for her to feel his breath on her face. "I can't find anything else out about you and your deal. It looks like all the officers and lawyers who worked with you ran away or seem to have been assassinated by your little organization up there," he said, tilting his head to look at her with a sidelong stare.

"I have a theory. I think maybe she spread her sweet little legs for that upstate DA." He put his knee between her legs suddenly, forcing them apart, almost making her fall. "Why don't you tell me about it?" He paused, regarding her terrified face.

"I don't mind, you know. You understand what it takes to survive. I respect that. He was a young man - but maybe not as pretty as Mayor Dent, hmm? Was he a nice lay?"

When he was met with only silence again, he moved over to hiss into her ear, "Tell me about it."

Her mind was racing. She wanted to forget all about that time, and to have him bring it up now brought back her pain, her guilt after taking the deal and leaving the others trapped there.

"Yes, he was a nice lay," she said, the words feeling foreign in her mouth.

He had been running a hand through his disheveled hair but paused immediately when he heard her words. There was a shift in the room. She felt like a hiding animal whose camouflage had suddenly disappeared.

"He was a nice lay? Oh kitten, you're lying," he said, rolling the words slowly in his mouth so they fell with a deadly weight.

He nodded his head, stepping back and surveying her with his merciless eyes. He drew his arm back and slapped her, hard. She hadn't had time to shield herself, and the blow landed squarely on the side of her face. The sound of it echoed in the sparse room. She collapsed to the floor, holding her mouth and tasting blood.

He took a step toward her and grabbed her hair, intertwining it messily in his fingers and using it to pull her to her feet. She cried out from the sudden pain. She still had her eyes closed, trying to keep her head from spinning after the sudden impact of the slap, when she heard the sound of the blade extending from the knife. Her eyes snapped open and her focus stayed on it as he dragged the flat of the cold metal blade lightly over her shoulder and settled the sharp point in the hollow where her neck met her chest.

"Your heart is beating so fast, kitten - I can see it here."

He had miscalculated if he thought a threat of force like the knife was something that would make her share her secret. But maybe he wasn't threatening her as much as he just wanted to see the sharp blade on the soft skin of her neck. Maybe he didn't really know what he wanted at that moment.

In the flurry of thoughts running through her mind, she suddenly realized that holding something away from him like this gave her a rush of pleasure. He knew everything about her: how she thought, the dynamics of her body, what every touch would do to her. But here was something he didn't know.

He used his grip on her hair to tilt her head up to face him. A slow smile formed on her lips. She had some scrap of her life that was hidden - it seemed to give her a small amount of control, and that little bit was intoxicating to her.

"I thought I just found a little fallen angel there on the ballroom floor, but you're much more than that, aren't you?" he said, regarding her strange smile and the remoteness of her icy stare. "I should have known, with the way you looked at me. Those sparkling eyes. You couldn't stop looking at me, could you?"

He retracted the knife and turned his hand to let it drop to the floor. Holding her head steady with his grip on her hair, he pressed his lips to hers. The movement of his tongue mingled with the blood in her mouth in a luxurious warmth as she returned his kiss. Her dizziness after the jolting slap only made it more mesmerizing - she felt she was floating. He drug his hand around her hips to the front of her thighs and pushed up the short skirt she was wearing.

The shock of what had happened made her feel unsteady, but her body adapted to him, listened to him.

"Ok, I'll let you keep your secrets, kitten," he murmured in her ear. She leaned on him for support and he held her securely.

"I'm feeling so generous today," he said, a lustful tremor beginning to show itself in his voice. He let go of her hair and she heard the gentle ting of his belt buckle hitting the long watch chain. He brought his hands behind her and pulled her close.

Author's note: [spoilers!] Don't be mad! Forgive me, remember he is the Joker. You have to give him a little bit of a break, Dent took away all his toys.

It is probably a little bit messed up that if I could ask Heath Ledger's Joker to say any of the lines of the story so far, it would be "Oh kitten, you're lying." :)

This is fanfic, so of course I don't own any characters from The Dark Knight (Joker, Batman, etc.). The main female character is original.

[teejaywyatt1]

✨Chapter 7 of Heat of the Moment will drop on Thursday, November 9th at 2:30PM EST.✨

[missfortuneisblue]

Alice’s Blue Roses tattoos

[cheeseandbretboy]

JOKER (2019) AND JOKER: FOLIE A DEUX (2024) SPOILERS !!!

still trying to sift through my thoughts but i liked joker 2. i dont get how the ratings are so bad?? were people expecting a romance???? a fun movie? i mean even i was surprised by the depressing end but im really glad it happened because thats what joker 2019 was about too. arthur was never the actual 'joker' we see in dc films, and we knew that. his whole story is tragic but a lot of people missed that in the first movie. the second speaks on that to humanise arthur (even though thats what they literally tried to do in the first one?? didnt work i guess) and shame those who use him as a symbol for misogyny and incel stuff. i think what most people are mad about is how hes not as 'villainy' as the other jokers BUT AGAIN he was never the true joker and im confused as to how people missed that !! personally i loved how it shows that even after he's secured himself the identity of joker he's still repeatedly exploited as he was before that, and he has to come to terms with it. harleys character was really surprising for me because usually she's the one being manipulated by joker- in this case it was the other way around. especially interesting was how joker was the one who sung 'bewitched' about harley (the original song is sung about a man, so they had to change he/him to she/her) and the scene of joker and harley's show where she continues singing 'to love somebody' without looking at him, instead basking in the attention the audience gives her. people were expecting a twisted sexy romance between them but instead we were given something really uncomfortable and unnerving- like that sex scene. her character also gives insight into parasocial relationships and how weird and dangerous they can get. she never really knew arthur- she knew joker. the film starts with us finally happy that he 'for once in his life, has someone who needs him' and ends with us absolutely distraught. in the first movie, he says stuff like 'you dont listen' and 'i never knew i existed' and STILL after becoming an infamous killer, getting a show about him, EVERYONE talking about him, he's still not seen. there are just so many things the film points out about its fanbase (incels, parasocial relationships, identity, the glamourisation/sexualisation of violence, columbiners, exploitation etc etc) and i guess people don't like that. they want capitalism=bad, 'men have it so bad', and mm gore! which is fair- i loved it too- but it doesnt hurt to delve into the identity of 'joker' (whatever that is) and how that influences its viewers. its quite meta i like it a lot. they didnt care that the ratings would be awful because they had to speak on what the first movie did to people

oh also the intertextuality is just amazing. the songs are great, like i mentioned before with changing the female and male roles with 'bewitched', and even though i absolutely hate musicals this really worked fo rme. i think it's because musicals often have songs smack bam in the middle of realistic scenes and the singing just ruins it for me- but in joker 2 they're more often a part of arthur's fantasies so it was actually better. i wasnt sure about the musical element at first but after rewatching joker for like the 1000th time i realised how much its intertwined in the first movie- we just never really paid attention to it. the end of 'gonna build a mountain' was amazing (you have to pay attention to the lyrics), 'the joker' was great, and the few instances of violence we see from arthur while hes singing is really entertaining i love it sm. i keep mentioning 'betwitched' but i love it. 'she is cold, i agree, she can laugh, and i love it' ahh. i loved the intertextuality with nolan's the dark knight. a lot of people hate it, but i think people should be more flexible with inspiration and interweaving similar but different stories into films. just because it follows a similar story doesnt mean that it should either perfectly fit the mould of nolan's batman, but neither does it mean they should abandon it altogether either. harvey dent really surprised me, and even though he was a pretty minor character i loved the few references to nolan's batman they give (like his gory face after the explosion at court being a possible villain origin story). most obvious is the end though, where arthur is gutted by that inmate who admires him. the use of the joke was amazing and i was really surprised by how he got stabbed. you can see in this moment that arthur has been relieved of his identity of 'joker' and can finally rest as himself, just a mentally ill guy with a history of tragic abuse. when lee and his fans betray him (the real life ones too hilariously) we realise no one truly saw or loved him, and he couldn't deal with that. so, the identity of joker was passed on to that inmate- "ah, what a fine young son to take my place"- while he cuts a glasgow smile into his face. in felt this was sort of missing from joker 2019, so im really glad they used ledger's joker as inspiration for this inmate.

there's a lot more to talk about, ESPECIALLY gary's reappearance which im so so glad about, it really fleshed out his character. when he walked up to the stand, you can see people whispering and laughing at him- arthur never made fun of him. it really helps to make people question what constitutes a bad person. sure, these people didn't kill 6 people, but how easy would it be for them just not to laugh? it showed arthur's empathy, and how uncomfortable he was with admitting to it when trying to paint himself as the joker. "you were the only one who was nice to me" was said by arthur in the first movie when he kills randal and gary says something similar to him during court.

anyways wow that was great people are mad the 2nd movie is as depressing as the first (if not more). at the end ofthe first, arthur has a whole revolution loving him, and we did the same. at the end of the second we realise we never truly knew him, but exploited his character.

[absolutebl]

Hello! I discovered your blog relatively recently so forgive me if you’ve already done this but would you consider compiling a list of all the times crossdressing has been done in bl? Whether as a plot-device, for comedy, for serious reasons, just all the times crossdressing as a trope has appeared.

In a similar vein if you wanted to explore it I’d also be interested in the breadth of trans rep in bl/queer shows and movies in Asian media and if that ever blends into the crossdressing (maybe also drag would be interesting to throw into the mix as well?). Also just an exploration of Queer Femme characters that are not made fun of or villainized by the narrative would be cool! Basically just exploring femme queer aspects in bl in all its good, bad, and I’m sure sometimes ugly forms!

Hi, welcome! Ooo, crossdressing. Frankly I can't think of many and I don't have great recall on this one so I will have to ask the feed.

BL's With Crossdressing

Meet You At The Blossom (China 2024) - major plot point

Nobleman Ryus Wedding (Korea 2021) - historical, entire premise

Kieta Hatsukoi AKA My Love Mix-Up! (Japan 2021)

Love Stage (Japan 2020) - major plot point (better executed in the anime version)

Love Stage (Thailand 2022) - major plot point better executed than either Japanese version

About Youth (Taiwan 2022)

I Told Sunset About You (Thailand 2020)

Jack & Joker (Thailand 2024)

My Bromance the movie (Thailand 2014)

My Love Mix-up (Thailand 2023)

I Am Your King (Thailand 2017) - this is Mark Siwat's first BL, and yeah, he's the one cross dressing (he plays the femme rich boy in Jack & Joker)

The Sign (Thailand 2024) - historical costume for the girl of the past being played by a boy is a gender mix of female/male attire, it's very clever

YYY (Thailand 2022)

I feel like Gun has crossdressed in one of his. Theory of Love maybe?

Mr Cinderella (Vietnam 2022)

My Sky (Vietnam 2017) - trigger warning

My Lascivious Boss (Vietnam 2021) - major plot point

Moots et al...... other (older?) BLs with cross dressing?

Others worth noting

Either the representation or the BL is in question, or it's not exactly crossdressing it's something else. Still, some obscure ones just in case.

Wait For Me at Udagawachou AKA Udagawachou de Matteteyo (Japan 2015) - may be triggering involves body dysmorphia and fetishization of trans identity, but if you can you should watch this

Spring of Crush (Korea 2022) - this is a bromance

Rainbow Prince (Pinoy 2022)

DNA Says Love You (Taiwan 2022)

Great Men Academy (Thailand 2019)

3 Will Be Free (Thailand 2019)

Love Sick 2024 (Thailand) - made an aggressively male character from the original into a newly out 3rd gender/trans character in the new version, very intentional modernization choice, fascinating. Directly addresses dead naming among other things in the few scenes she has.

Saneha Stories series from Thailand

You should follow Cooheart on IG he does some fantastic gender bending and crossdressing styles. He's the fashion icon gift that keeps on giving.

Thai BL has tons of representation and use of characters/actors of Thai third gender, a lot of which is for comedy. Rarely if ever in BL more like Diary of the Tootsies. I would say my favorite and most beloved 3rd G rep is in The Sign. But that is is different than what you asked for.

Femme rep I have talked about before, most specifically in the context of Daisy in Secret Crush On You......

More Queer Lens & Thai BL 

BL Linguistics & Queer Identity I Am Gay versus I Like Men 

Husband Wife Language in Thai BL (SOTUS, TharnType + a lot of 2022 BL) 

Thai BL Lacks Representation of Butch & Transgender Men (and why this has to do with Thailand's 3rd Gender) 

Thai Military Service & Thai BL

Hope that helps.

(source)

[cosmicmagicgirl]

A NEW DAWN.

Summary: After the traumatic events of Marineford, the world is facing a new generation of pirates and the quest for One Piece continues. The Straw Hat Pirates finally enter the mysterious New World, only to be met with an urgent call to the island of Punk Hazard. A desperate plea for help reveals an imminent attack by a samurai, plunging them into a race against time to face the impending danger. Amidst the chaos, an unexpected alliance arises with the Surgeon of Death, Law. United in a common purpose, Luffy and his crew face unimaginable challenges, including a confrontation with the cruel scientist Caesar Clown and Joker's henchmen. With bravery and determination, they manage to save the children and inhabitants of the island, preparing to move forward with new friends aboard the Thousand Sunny. However, as they prepare to depart, an emotional reunion awaits them on the shores of Punk Hazard, unearthing memories. Pain and loss will be brought to the surface, and it will be painful to have to talk about guilt and mourning. Our journey is one of self-discovery and redemption, facing not only physical battles, but also the complexities of the heart. This is a story permeated by bittersweet loves and bonds that transcend blood.

Contents: Fluff and Angst / Eventual Romance / Blood and Violence / One Piece Spoilers / My First One Piece Fic / Drama & Romance / Childhood Memories / References to Depression / Psychological Torture /  Implied/Referenced Torture / Lost Love / Roronoa Zoro is Bad At Feelings / Roronoa Zoro in Love / Monkey D. Luffy is a Ray of Sunshine / Doctor Trafalgar D. Water Law / Protective Portgas D. Ace  / Brother-Sister Relationships / Wano Arc (One Piece) / Dressrosa Arc / Punk Hazard Arc / Whole Cake Island Arc Spoilers / Roronoa Zoro Being an Idiot / Nami & Vinsmoke Sanji Friendship / Marine Corps / Espionage / Female Friendship / Strong Original Female Character / NSFW.

Masterlist

Chapter 01 

“There is nothing I would not do for those who are really my friends. I have no notion of loving people by halves, it is not my nature.”

A Few Days Before.

The voice came through the Den Den Mushi, cutting through the air with the precision of a rusty blade. It was inquisitive, almost a whisper, but there was something about it — something that made the blood freeze in one's veins.

— Bepo — she said, each word heavy like wet stone. — Tell me where he is.

On the other side of the line, there was a muffled sob. Bepo swallowed hard, his labored breathing echoing through the snail. It wasn’t just simple fear; it was the kind of anxiety that coiled around the throat like an invisible snake. Bepo hesitated. He was a bear, big and furry, but at that moment he seemed small, shrinking before that voice. His paws trembled, and he looked around, as if hoping Shachi or Penguin would appear to save him. They were there, yes, but they kept their distance, their pale faces reflecting the same fear Bepo felt.

She paused for a moment, as if trying to contain a storm within herself. Her fingers gripped the receiver of the Den Den Mushi tightly enough to leave marks, though she didn’t even notice.

— Are you really going to make me say it? Seriously?

She let out a long, slow sigh, the sound echoing through the confined space of the cabin like a door creaking on rusty hinges. Her patience, already worn thin like an old rope under too much tension, was about to snap. But it wasn’t just impatience; there was something else there, something she could barely admit to herself — fear, perhaps, or frustration. Or maybe it was just the overwhelming feeling that the choices made by those around her were slowly dragging them all into an inevitable abyss.

The bear’s reluctance on the other end of the line was almost palpable, like an acrid smell hanging in the air. She could feel it, dense and oppressive, pressing against her already frayed nerves. It was like watching a child hesitate before a scolding.

But she needed to know. She needed to hear the words, even if it meant tearing them out by force.

— Look, miss... I want to tell you — Bepo began, stumbling over the words as if they were loose stones in a muddy river. — But…

A silence hung in the air — thick like fog. She could hear the distant echo of Shachi and Penguin’s voices in the background, but it wasn’t with them that she was speaking now. It was with Bepo, and he knew it.

— But…? — she pressed, her voice low, like the growl of a cornered animal.

Bepo swallowed hard, the sound audible even through the receiver. He was struggling against himself, the words stuck in his throat like thorns.

— But our captain would be really angry… — he admitted finally, the sentence escaping like a groan.

A soft laugh escaped her lips, tinged with tenderness and concern. It was the kind of laugh that comes when trying to ease the tension, even while knowing difficult decisions lie ahead — the warm, gentle sound of someone who cares deeply but also knows they can’t protect everyone forever.

— He’s always angry — she said, her voice heavy with exhaustion. — That wouldn’t be a surprise. Bepo, you’re worried. All of you are; I can feel it. I know how to handle your captain. Now, tell me: where is Law?

There was a pause far too long, as if time itself had stopped to watch them. Then, finally, Bepo responded.

At the Moment

— Punk Hazard. How convenient. — She murmured, her eyes fixed on the horizon beyond the ship's window. The sunlight reflected off the calm waters, but it couldn’t dispel the darkness that seemed to hang over her.

Dante stood beside her, an imposing mink goat with curved horns and yellow eyes that glowed like beacons in the dim light of the cabin. He wore a pristine black coat, and his massive hands held a steaming cup of tea. The sweet, comforting aroma of the tea contrasted sharply with the tension in the air.

She frowned, her fingers tapping absently on the edge of the table.

— What is he planning, Dante? — she asked, without taking her eyes off the window.

— He probably thought he could handle Caesar Clown on his own — Dante replied, his voice deep and smooth, like the distant rumble of thunder. — However, I doubt he expected to run into Vergo as well.

She rose slowly, walking toward the window. Outside, the sea seemed endless, black waves lapping at the ship’s hull like hungry tongues. The sky was tinged with gray, promising storms yet to come.

She turned to him, her eyes narrowing.

— And the children? What have we found out?

— They were brought to Punk Hazard — Dante answered, pouring a steaming cup of tea. The steam rose in delicate spirals. — Nanao hasn’t reported anything yet, but there are more complications.

She accepted the cup, feeling the warmth radiate through her cold hands as she sat back down in the armchair.

— I have a strange feeling, Dante — she said finally. — What was Law thinking, staying here for months? I told him we’d deal with Kaidou together. Is he trying to get himself killed?

Dante didn’t respond immediately. He simply watched her, as if reading something she herself hadn’t yet understood.

— If his goal really is Kaidou… — he began, pausing deliberately, as if carefully choosing his words. — He has a deep hatred for Joker, doesn’t he?

She nodded, her eyes fixed on the cup in her hands. The tea was still hot, but the warmth wasn’t enough to dispel the chill growing inside her.

— That idiot… — she muttered, abruptly rising from the armchair and walking over to the panel of maps and photographs covering the wall. — I’m going to kick his ass when we find him.

Dante smiled but remained silent. He knew the truth behind those words — knew they were just a facade. When they found him, she’d probably hug him with all her strength, overwhelmed with relief at seeing him safe and sound.

— It’s certainly a relief to know they managed to escape Caesar Clown — he commented finally. — That was quite a scare, wasn’t it?

She didn’t respond immediately. Her mind wandered back to the recent past, to the transmission that had left her paralyzed. Luffy and his crew, captured by Caesar Clown. The news had hit her like a punch to the gut, but relief soon followed when she learned they had escaped. As they always did.

Fear coursed through her veins like an uncontainable electric current, pulsing through every nerve ending as the moment of her reunion with Luffy drew inexorably closer. It was as if time had gained weight, pressing down on her from all sides, yet still slipping through her fingers, too fast to control. Though she knew the meeting was inevitable — that it was coming as surely as night follows day — there was a part of her that desperately wanted more time. More hours, more minutes, more seconds to breathe, to think, to prepare. To face the whirlwind of emotions threatening to swallow her whole.

But there was no pause to be had. The weight of guilt was already there, pressing down on her shoulders like an unbearable, cold rock. Each breath felt like a conscious effort, as if the air had grown thicker, heavier, slowly trying to suffocate her. She wanted to scream, to run, but she knew there was nowhere to go. The truth hung over her like a storm cloud, ready to collapse at the worst possible moment.

She tried to convince herself that there was time. Time to adjust the rusty gears of her mind, time to calm the chaos roaring in her chest. But no matter how many times she repeated it to herself, the words sounded hollow, empty. There was no way to delay the inevitable. In just a few hours, she would be face to face with Luffy. And then? What would she see in his eyes? Disgust? Hurt? Or something worse? Something she couldn’t bear?

— You’re worried about how he’ll react when he learns the truth, aren’t you? — Dante spoke, his voice low and steady, cutting through the silence. It was a rhetorical question; he knew exactly what she was going through. There was a comforting calm in his tone, as if he understood that sometimes simply naming the fear was a form of relief.

She didn’t respond immediately. She didn’t need to. Dante knew that silence, that hesitation, all too well. He placed a hand on her shoulder, the touch light but full of meaning. A simple gesture, almost imperceptible, but one that carried silent strength. As if to say: You’re not alone in this.

— I’m sure he’ll understand — Dante continued, his voice filled with a confidence she herself couldn’t muster. — And if he doesn’t understand right away, you’ll have the chance to talk and work things out together.

Punk Hazard.

The toxic smoke that had choked Punk Hazard finally began to dissipate — revealing that the sky, once heavy and oppressive, now bled shades of orange and pink as the sun hesitantly emerged on the horizon, as if afraid to illuminate too much of this cursed place. But even with the soft light of dawn caressing the devastated landscape, the cold still cut through the skin like a razor, a cruel reminder of the horrors that had taken place there. It wasn’t just the chill of the weather; it was the cold that came from within, the kind that settled deep in the bones and soul, echoing the silent screams of those who hadn’t survived.

And yet, despite the scars — both visible and invisible — left by the battle against Caesar Clown, a strange sense of relief hovered over the makeshift camp. It was something tenuous, almost fragile, but it was there: a momentary pause in the storm, a collective sigh among the living. The Straw Hat crew moved with renewed energy — they were tired, yes, but also determined. There was something to celebrate, after all.

Something to share.

In the center of the camp, a wood-burning stove had been hastily assembled, its flames crackling in defiance of the ice that surrounded everything. Sanji, as always, stirred the stew with a concentration that seemed almost sacred — cooking was an art for him, and indeed it was. The rich, comforting aroma rose in spirals, spreading through the air, and hungry stomachs growled in response.

The rescued children — those small survivors of nightmares no human should ever face — played and laughed. Some of them nestled into the arms of the crew members, seeking safety where there had once been only fear. Their smiles illuminated the weight of the victory that had been won. Each childish laugh was a powerful reminder of what had been saved, of what had been protected.

Meanwhile, preparations for the feast continued, and the atmosphere was imbued with camaraderie and gratitude. The pirates of the Straw Hat crew and the Marines swapped stories of their exploits during the battle, their voices blending into an unlikely chorus of laughter and painful memories. Glasses were raised in honor of the fallen, and even those who had never gotten along found a way to share this moment. It was as if, for a few hours, the differences between them had been frozen along with the ground beneath their feet.

In the distance, Smoker and Law observed the scene in silence, seated side by side on an improvised bench. Between them, a steaming bowl of stew rested, the steam rising slowly into the icy air — the aroma of the stew was almost surreal in its simplicity. Law, his gaze lost on the frozen horizon, seemed to be somewhere else — perhaps in another time. His thoughts were a labyrinth, and he walked through them with careful steps, avoiding traps only he could see.

Smoker, on the other hand, observed the surgeon with an inscrutable expression, his dark eyes reflecting the distant flames of the bonfire. He rolled the cigar between his fingers, the ember casting a somber red glow in his weary eyes. He removed it from his mouth with a slow gesture before speaking.

— I know you think I won’t keep a promise made to a pirate — Smoker finally said, his deep voice breaking the silence. There was something in the way he spoke, a weight carried in the words, as if he were trying to convince himself as much as Law. — But if you really wanted to get rid of me, you’ve had countless opportunities to kill me. — He paused, letting the words hang in the air for a moment before continuing. — What do you want with Straw Hat?

Law raised an eyebrow, his ironic smile curving his lips almost imperceptibly. He tilted his head slightly, as if considering Smoker’s observation, but there was something more in his eyes — something sharp, challenging, perhaps even amused.

— I’m taking advantage of him? — Law repeated the question, but there was no doubt in his voice, only a soft provocation. He rested a hand on his knee and leaned forward, as if about to share a secret. — Maybe it’s the other way around.

The words echoed between them, suspended in the air like frozen smoke. Smoker frowned but didn’t respond immediately. He knew Law was playing some kind of game, but he couldn’t discern the rules. It was like trying to see through frosted glass: you know something is there, but the details remain just out of reach.

Then, as if summoned by the thought itself, a fragment of memory flashed through Law’s mind. He saw Luffy again, that idiot boy with the straw hat, talking about his absurd plans with the same naive determination that always defined him. “I’m going to defeat the Four Emperors,” he’d said, as if it were as simple as boarding a ship and sailing to the next port. Law felt a muscle in his jaw tighten. That pirate was a walking storm, a force of nature impossible to ignore.

— I don’t have any special reason not to have killed you, White Hunter — Law said at last, rising with a movement that seemed almost casual. He had already finished his stew, and now the empty bowl rested beside him, forgotten. — By the way, I’m considering heading to Green Bit. — He paused, turning to face Smoker with a look that was half curiosity, half challenge. — I’m curious to see if I can handle the Straw Hats.

Meanwhile, just a few meters away, Tashigi and Nami worked in silence, though the weight of the task before them was almost palpable. They guided the children onto the Marine tanker, each movement careful, deliberate. The children climbed aboard with hesitant steps but carried with them something that felt almost like lightness.

It was as if, after so long under the crushing shadow of fear, the weight had begun to dissipate, replaced by a faint spark of hope. It wasn’t a loud or exuberant hope — not yet. But it was there, hanging in the cold air like breath vapor on a cruel winter’s day. They had faced horrors no child should ever know, and yet, in that moment, there was something beyond pain in their eyes. A new beginning — that idea vibrated between them like an invisible thread, connecting each heart with a silent promise: that maybe, just maybe, they could find peace again.

Tashigi murmured soothing words as she guided a brown-haired girl onto the vessel. Her eyes were gentle, but there was tension in her shoulders, as if she were fighting the urge to look back and check if the danger was still there. Nami, on the other hand, maintained a calm but firm expression. She knew what those children had been through — the fear, the pain, the feeling of being completely at the mercy of something far greater than themselves. And yet, there she was, helping them find a path to safety, even if only temporary.

Smoker crossed the frozen field with firm steps, his imposing figure cutting through the icy wind. The freezing gusts whipped at his coat, stirring small clouds of snow around him, but he seemed oblivious to the cold. His eyes were fixed on Luffy, that absurd pirate with the straw hat, whose presence always radiated an energy impossible to ignore. Smoker’s expression was grave, almost somber, but there was something else there too — something he probably wouldn’t even admit to himself: respect.

When he got close enough for their voices to be heard above the constant whisper of the wind, Smoker stopped. He stared at Luffy for a moment, as if trying to decipher some hidden code in the other man’s relaxed posture. The breeze stirred their coats, creating a strange contrast between Smoker’s seriousness and the carefree smile that danced on Luffy’s lips.

— I thought you were going to take the tanker — Smoker finally said, his deep voice echoing across the open space.

— No, Chopper and Nami said we’re only leaving once the kids are gone — Luffy replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. And then, with an almost casual tone, he added: — Besides, it’d be a pain to wait for the rest of the Navy.

For a moment, Smoker just stared at him. There was something unsettling about how Luffy managed to turn difficult decisions into simple truths, as if the weight of the world didn’t press down on his shoulders the way it did for everyone else. But at the same time, there was a wisdom in that — an instinctive understanding that some things were more important than convenience or efficiency. Smoker noticed it, of course. Perhaps that was why he didn’t push further, simply nodding slowly, as if acknowledging something that couldn’t be put into words.

Not far from There.

Nanao emerged from the depths of the ocean, slicing through the water with a precision that seemed almost supernatural. There was something about her presence that commanded respect — not just because of the evident power in every movement, but because of the unshakable aura of someone who knew her place in the world and occupied it without hesitation. Her teeth gleamed under the faint sunlight, shining like blades ready to strike. Her blue hair floated around her, dancing to the rhythm of the current as if it were part of the sea itself.

Her yellow eyes were like beacons, illuminating everything around her with an intensity that could intimidate even the bravest. But there was something more there, something only those who truly knew her could see: a peculiar, almost cruel humor hidden behind the ferocity. Nanao was like that — a creature of extremes. She loved a good fight as much as she enjoyed the warmth of a bottle of rum at the end of the day. It was this contrast that made her so fascinating — and so dangerous.

When she obtained the crucial information about Punk Hazard, Nanao didn’t waste any time. There was no room for hesitation or uncertainty here — every second was precious, and she knew it better than anyone. With strong, precise strokes, she cut through the icy waters, advancing toward the meeting point with an urgency that seemed to make the very sea grow still in respect. It wasn’t blind loyalty; it was something deeper, something that came from within, like a visceral conviction that what she was doing needed to be done — and quickly.

Meanwhile, atop the icy mountain, the young woman walked slowly, each step echoing against the oppressive silence of the frozen landscape. The wind blew gently but steadily, brushing her face like a cold, distant hand. The sensation was strangely soothing, as if the air itself were trying to calm her before what lay ahead. She moved forward carefully, her eyes fixed on the horizon, where the camp began to take shape—distant, but visible. There was something hypnotic about the way the colors of the sky blended with the icy glow of the snow, creating a scene that seemed torn from a dream—or a nightmare.

She felt the weight of the moment pressing down on her shoulders, yet there was an odd lightness in her chest, as if the wind were carrying away some of her anxiety. Each step brought her closer to the truth, and though that truth might be painful, she knew there was no escaping it.

— Miss — Nanao said, her voice cutting through the air with a tone that left no room for hesitation. — There are no more signs of imminent danger on any side of the island. The chemical weapon is under control for now, and all those affected can still be saved. — She paused briefly, her yellow eyes fixed on the figure before her, gauging the reaction. She knew her words carried weight, that every syllable would be absorbed and scrutinized carefully. — However, they will need to be monitored. All of them.

— Thank you, Nanao — she replied, her voice calm but firm, like the sound of a door being locked against a storm. — Smoker must have already alerted the nearest base. They’ll ensure everyone receives the necessary care… — She paused for a moment, the corners of her mouth curling into a bitter smile. — I’d just love to see the faces of those five old men if news like this leaked to the masses. — Her lips curved into a tense, almost imperceptible smile, but there was something in it—a hint of disgust, or perhaps just exhaustion.

Dante, attuned to the subtext, leaned forward slightly, his eyes gleaming with a mix of caution and curiosity.

— The people have a right to know the truth — he said, his deep voice echoing softly in the silence that hung between them. — Perhaps we should expose what happened here. But… — He paused, choosing his words carefully. — Exposing the truth could mean the end, if done hastily.

The young woman fell silent for a moment, her gaze lost in the distant horizon. The cold wind tousled her hair, but she seemed oblivious to the discomfort. Finally, she shook her head, as if brushing away unwanted thoughts.

— No — she said, her voice taking on a definitive tone, like the strike of a hammer against an anvil. — It’s too soon. Revealing this now would only cause panic. We need to proceed with the information we have and act with caution. The right moment will come, but it’s not now.

Her eyes scanned the horizon, absorbing every detail of the movements below. It was then that a faint smile formed on her lips, almost involuntarily, as she witnessed a scene that touched her in an unexpected way. The Marines were gathered, some with silent tears streaming down their faces, as they bid farewell to the Straw Hat crew. There was no need for words to understand what this moment meant—it was clear how much they appreciated and were grateful for everything the pirates had done.

She observed it all from atop the mountain, wrapped in the icy silence of the environment, but her chest was warmed by something deeper. There was something almost magical about that human connection, something that seemed to dissolve the rigid barriers between differences that once seemed insurmountable. The expressions on the soldiers’ faces were sincere, brimming with raw emotion, and it made her feel a pang of warmth in her chest, as if the air around her had grown lighter.

It didn’t surprise her to see those reactions. Deep down, she had always known that the Straw Hats had something special. Their kindness, even amidst evil, and the spirit of camaraderie they radiated had the power to reach even the hardest of hearts.

Her gaze eventually settled on a specific figure—the one who mattered most to her. She watched him interacting with his crew, his wide, genuine smile illuminating everything around him, as if he could dispel any dark cloud. His relaxed demeanor, combined with an unshakable confidence, exuded a natural leadership that didn’t need to be forced. He simply existed, and the people around him followed without question, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

He had always been like that. From the very beginning. A free spirit, impossible to contain, and a vibrant energy that seemed to pulse through every situation, no matter how dark. She remembered those eyes clearly—eyes that still held traces of innocence and curiosity, as if the entire world was a place full of possibilities and wonders, even when circumstances suggested otherwise.

With a nearly imperceptible sigh, she tore her gaze away from him, forcing herself to focus beyond the horizon. She knew there was much more ahead—uncertain paths and difficult decisions. But for a brief moment, she allowed herself to stay there, caught in that image, before letting the weight of the future settle back onto her shoulders.

Punk Hazard.

The Straw Hat crew was gathered in a relaxed manner, but there was a certain gravity in the air — that heavy silence that precedes farewells. The children had already been taken aboard the tanker, their laughter echoing faintly as they drifted away, and now it was their turn to leave.

Luffy chewed on a piece of meat with his characteristic energy, not seeming particularly bothered by the weight of the moment. He swallowed the last bite, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and said, with that simplicity only he could bring:

— Alright, it’s time for us to go too.

Brook, ever the lively one, adjusted his hat and smiled, his bones gleaming under the dim light of dusk.

— We’re heading to the New World, and the weather is beautiful! Yohohoho! — His shrill laugh cut through the air like an odd echo, but no less comforting. It was impossible not to feel a bit of lightness when hearing him.

Sanji exhaled a puff of smoke from his cigarette, his eyes shielded by his blonde bangs as he gazed at the horizon.

— Well, the sea might be a little rough — he murmured, almost as if talking to himself.

Zoro walked a few steps behind the group, arms crossed and a thoughtful expression on his face. He didn’t say anything, but his eyes were fixed on Law, who was leading the group with firm, calculated steps. When Zoro realized that Law was coming along with them — and even worse, at the front — he stopped abruptly and turned to Usopp, discreetly pointing at the surgeon with his thumb.

— Hey, hold on… Is he coming with us too? — his voice low, but laced with suspicion.

Usopp, who until then had been busy adjusting his ammunition belt, looked at Zoro with a nervous smile.

— Oh, right. We didn’t tell you about the alliance. Yeah, Luffy got us into trouble again.

Zoro let out a short sigh, as if he had been expecting this. He didn’t say anything more, but his posture stiffened, as if he were ready to draw his swords if necessary.

The Marines gathered in small groups, their uniforms marked by combat and the dust of Punk Hazard. The air was charged with something that felt like lightness — not exactly joy, but a silent relief, as if the weight of recent battles was slowly beginning to dissipate. A young Marine, with features too soft to suggest much experience but eyes that seemed already hardened by difficult decisions, stepped forward. He scratched the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable, but soon broke into a wide smile.

— Next time we meet, pirates, I’m going to arrest all of you! — he said, his voice firm but with a lightheartedness that suggested more jest than threat. Some of the other Marines chuckled softly, while others simply nodded in silent approval.

Luffy, who until then had been busy chewing on the last piece of meat, turned to the Marine with that characteristic wide, carefree smile, as if the entire world were a private joke only he understood.

— See ya! — he replied, waving casually, as if they were parting ways after a quiet afternoon.

The comment drew scattered laughter from the Straw Hats, but there was something genuine in the exchange. It wasn’t exactly friendship, but something close to it — a kind of mutual respect that transcended the lines drawn between pirates and soldiers. It was as if, for a brief moment, everyone there shared something greater: the recognition that, despite their differences, they had faced something terrible together and survived.

Law, who until then had remained silent, allowed a faint, almost imperceptible smile to cross his face. It was quick, like a shadow passing over his features, but enough to catch the attention of anyone observing him closely.

And then it happened.

A sudden weight seemed to fall over the area, an invisible but oppressive presence that made the air vibrate with palpable tension. Every member of the crew felt it simultaneously — a sense of imminent danger that sent shivers down their spines. Zoro was the first to react, placing his hand on the hilt of one of his swords, his sharp eyes scanning the surroundings for any suspicious movement. Sanji took the cigarette from his mouth, assuming a defensive stance. Even Luffy, usually so carefree, tensed up, his fists clenched and his body leaning forward, like an animal ready to pounce.

Smoker felt it too. His face contorted into a grimace of alert, and he quickly glanced at his men. One by one, they began to collapse, fainting where they stood, like discarded rag dolls. The sound of a body hitting the ground echoed across the field, leaving only the Straw Hats, Law, and Smoker still conscious.

The silence that followed was deafening, a palpable presence that hung in the air like thick smoke after a fire. It was the kind of quiet that not only filled the space but also seemed to seep into the minds of those present. Law, however, remained motionless, like a statue carved from ice, his breathing controlled and rhythmic while those around him seemed to struggle against the weight of the tension.

He let out a soft sigh, as if he already knew what was coming. His dark, almost unfathomable eyes were fixed on some point beyond the horizon — perhaps on something no one else could see, or perhaps on nothing at all. Still, there was a calculated serenity in his posture, a calm that wasn’t simply natural but deliberately constructed, as if he had foreseen every detail.

But that didn’t mean he was at ease. No, Law carried with him the same shadow that always accompanied him, that oppressive feeling that the entire world was about to collapse onto his shoulders. He knew better than anyone that the future was a fragile structure, upheld by choices made in fractions of seconds. And yet, he chose to face it with a coldness that bordered on detachment. As if everything was inevitable, as if he had already accepted the fate that awaited him.

The snow swirled furiously now, further obscuring the horizon. The silence was almost unbearable, broken only by the distant crackling of ice under the invisible weight of the oppressive atmosphere. Then came the sound — a light step, almost imperceptible, but amplified by the deadly stillness.

All eyes turned toward the source of the noise. Through the gusts of snow, a silhouette began to take shape. She walked slowly, each step deliberate, as if challenging the very air to bow before her. The wind seemed to dance around her body — her black dress rippled with the movement of the air, creating a striking contrast against the frozen white landscape.

When she finally stopped, the deep hood still concealed her face, casting shadows that obscured any human features beneath the smooth white mask covering her visage. Only her eyes remained hidden behind empty, black orbits, giving her an almost ethereal appearance.

Robin furrowed her brow slightly, analyzing every detail of the woman from a distance. There was something familiar about her, something she couldn’t immediately identify but that stirred distant, buried memories in her mind.

Sanji quickly realized that the figure could only belong to a woman. He hesitated for a moment, unsure of what he should do.

But it was Zoro who reacted first. His hand was already on the hilt of one of his swords when he felt the weight of the atmosphere shift. Something in the woman’s posture — or perhaps in her aura — made him pause briefly. However, his suspicion took over. He began to slowly draw his sword from its sheath, ready to strike if necessary.

It was then that three figures emerged from the shadows, as if the very air around them had solidified into human forms. The first to catch attention was a young man whose light blue hair caught the faint light of the environment, giving him an almost ethereal aura. He wore a simple white button-up shirt, but there was something deliberate in the way he wore it — unbuttoned at the collar, the sleeves slightly rolled up. His face exuded an unsettling calmness, as if he were used to being observed but never intimidated by it. It wasn’t arrogance; it was control. He was the kind of person you wouldn’t notice until it was too late.

Beside him stood a girl with lilac-colored hair braided into two long lateral strands, adorned with small floral ornaments that seemed too delicate for the scene. She wore large round glasses that magnified her already expressive eyes, giving her a curious, almost childlike appearance. But there was something about her that contradicted this first impression: perhaps it was the way she held her fan, as if it were an extension of her own hand, or perhaps it was the way her eyes scanned the surroundings, absorbing everything. Her fair skin was speckled with freckles on her cheeks, a human touch amidst the heavy atmosphere. The colorful fur coat she wore over a light pink kimono seemed out of place there, but somehow, it suited her.

The third figure, however, was different. There was nothing soft about him. Tall and slender, with straight black hair that fell over his shoulders like curtains of obsidian, he radiated a presence that made the air feel heavier. His eyes were narrow and calculating, as if assessing every detail of the scene before him, cataloging weaknesses and opportunities. A black mask covered the lower half of his face, hiding any trace of emotion, but leaving exposed eyes that seemed capable of piercing through souls. He was dressed entirely in black, with minimalist clothing that avoided any unnecessary ostentation, save for a few discreetly gleaming silver earrings in his ears.

The three of them remained there, standing still, like living statues. They didn’t say a word, didn’t make a single threatening move. They simply stayed there, vigilant, as if time itself had slowed down just for them.

On Smoker’s side, two figures emerged. The first was a fishwoman, whose imposing presence seemed to disturb even the stillness of the snow around her. Her features resembled those of a great white shark — sharp yellow eyes like blades and teeth that gleamed with predatory perfection under the faint light.

Beside her stood a mink, a tall and robust black goat whose posture radiated a kind of silent authority. He wore an impeccable black tailcoat, cut in the front with silk lapels. The thin fabric of the rear tails swayed gently against the icy wind, while his fitted black pants and polished boots completed the image of someone who not only knew their place in the world but also how to occupy it with dignity. His face was marked by penetrating yellow eyes, which seemed capable of seeing through the souls around him, and long horns that curved backward like symbols of his powerful lineage. He didn’t need to speak to command respect; it was enough for him to stand there, still, observing everything with a reserved expression that suggested he had seen far more than anyone present could imagine.

Both nodded at Smoker with familiarity, like old acquaintances. The gesture was brief, almost casual, but enough to make Smoker relax momentarily — though he still kept his guard up, like a man who had learned the hard way that trust was too valuable a currency to be spent without caution.

The air felt denser, as if the cold itself had solidified around them. When Zoro drew his sword and assumed his battle stance, something in the movement drew tense glances from everyone around. It was like watching the calm before a storm that no one was sure they wanted to face. Law, however, didn’t hesitate. He walked with steady steps toward the central figure of the scene — the masked woman. His gait was calm, almost casual, but there was a weight in each step, as if he carried with him a certainty that the others were still struggling to comprehend.

— Don’t waste time with this — Law said, his voice low and neutral, but sharp enough to make Zoro pause for a moment. The swordsman frowned, torn between suspicion and curiosity.

As Law advanced, the tension grew like a cornered animal about to strike. Usopp was the first to break the silence, his trembling voice escaping in a nervous murmur:

— Wait… wait a minute! This doesn’t feel right…

Chopper, clinging to Usopp’s back, mumbled something unintelligible, his huge eyes fixed on the scene as he tried to process what was happening. Nami, on the other hand, crossed her arms, her sharp gaze analyzing every detail. She didn’t like it. Something about that woman, in that calm and calculating posture, made her instincts scream that there was more to her than met the eye.

Then, it happened.

Law got close enough to be enveloped by the woman’s aura. Before anyone could react, she pulled him into a sudden embrace, surprising everyone. For a brief moment, there was only silence — a silence so heavy it seemed to echo across the frozen field. But the calm didn’t last long. With impressive speed, she delivered a punch to his stomach, strong enough to make him buckle at the knees and collapse, gasping for air. The scene was so abrupt that it left even Sanji dumbfounded, his cigarette dropping from his mouth.

— Trafalgar D. Water Law — She leaned down slightly, approaching the fallen surgeon as he struggled to catch his breath, her words tinged with an almost familiar frustration. — Did you really think I’d let you walk away unscathed after this stupidity? I should punch you again. What were you thinking?

Law, still gasping, looked up at her, his face twisted in a mixture of pain and irritation. He opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by the sound of heavy footsteps coming from behind. Luffy didn’t pay attention to her words. His body was already in motion before any thought could catch up with him.

He charged like thunder, stretching toward the woman with the overwhelming force that always characterized his attacks. She, however, was fast — too fast. With an almost supernatural agility, she dodged Luffy’s blows, each movement calculated and precise, as if she had predicted every attack before it even began.

Meanwhile, Chopper shouted from the other side of the field.

— LAW!!! Are you okay? — The little reindeer ran toward the fallen surgeon, his eyes wide with concern.

Law, still catching his breath, waved a hand as he tried to steady himself.  

— I’m fine — he muttered, though the raspy tone of his voice suggested otherwise. He rose slowly, leaning on one leg as he observed the scene before him.  

And then, suddenly, seeing that Luffy had charged at the stranger, Zoro turned with his sword toward the person standing behind him — the figure with straight black hair and a black mask. But all they did was defend — in a movement so fast it almost escaped perception, the stranger raised an enormous sword to parry the blow.  

The sound of the impact echoed through the icy air, the clash of blades blending with the howl of the wind. Zoro stepped back, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinized the weapon. That sword was unlike anything he had ever seen. The blade was wide, almost absurdly so in size, but the stranger wielded it effortlessly, as if it were a natural extension of their body. It gleamed dully, reflecting the faint light with a cold, almost menacing hue. The guard was simple and practical, designed to protect the hands without drawing attention.  

It wasn’t a katana, nor was it a saber. It lacked the brutal grandeur of a claymore, but it also didn’t have the lightness or balance he expected from something functional.  

The stranger’s posture was strangely controlled; there was no aggression in their movements, only precision. Zoro furrowed his brow, noticing something unusual. He was well acquainted with the weight of killing intent, and the person before him… simply didn’t seem to want to attack. Or, at the very least, they were holding back significantly from doing so.  

Sanji, on the other hand, shifted his attention to the blue-haired boy, who remained standing at a respectful distance, watching everything with a calm expression. There was something unsettling about that calm, as if he didn’t care. The cook adjusted his tie as he approached, his voice smooth but laced with curiosity.  

— Hey, kid, who are you people?  

The young man didn’t respond, but the lavender-haired girl intervened before Sanji could press further. She stepped forward, her fan open in an elegant pose, and spoke firmly.

— There’s no point in fighting here. — Then, turning to the black-haired man, she added: — Aidan, you heard what the young lady said. Put that sword away, or she’ll be upset.  

Aidan hesitated for a moment but eventually lowered the katana. He stepped back and gave a brief bow to Zoro, as if offering silent apologies.  

Zoro’s brow furrowed even more, his sharp eyes darting between Aidan and the lavender-haired girl. Suspicion was evident in every line of his face, but he wasn’t the type to leave questions unanswered for long. With a low grunt, his hand remained firmly on the hilt of his sword as he spoke.  

— None of this makes any sense — Zoro said, his voice as rough as ever. He slightly pointed the katana in Aidan’s direction, not overtly hostile but still far from lowering his guard completely. — If you don’t want to fight, then why did you draw your sword? And now this apology? — He snorted again, though he maintained a stance ready to act at any moment. — I don’t understand anything.  

The girl smiled faintly, as if Zoro’s confusion was almost endearing. Her gaze slid over to Sanji, and she spoke with a calmness that seemed deliberately calculated.

— My name is Kazan'in Ena — she said, her voice soft but firm enough to cut through the icy air around them. — And yes, I know you’re all confused. You’ll all understand soon enough.  

She paused, raising a distracted hand to examine her own nails with a care that seemed out of place. A sigh escaped her lips, laced with genuine frustration but also something subtler — perhaps resignation.  

— Honestly, Haruto — she continued, turning to the blue-haired boy — I would’ve preferred to stay on the ship having tea with Mrs. Mayumi. This kind of thing… — She let the sentence trail off, as if it wasn’t even worth finishing.  

Robin, who had been silently observing everything until then, finally spoke. Her voice was low, almost casual, but there was a sharp curiosity behind her words.

— You seem to know Law — Robin said, tilting her head slightly, as if trying to fit a piece into an incomplete puzzle. — Who are you, exactly?  

Nami, arms crossed and her piercing gaze fixed on Ena, didn’t waste time pressing further. Her voice was direct, without pretense, but there was a trace of caution there too, as if she were testing the ground before taking a step forward.  

— And what do you want with us?  

Ena slowly raised her eyes, as if weighing each of the questions before answering. Her smile was still there, but now it seemed more restrained, almost reflective. She opened her mouth to say something but hesitated for a moment, as if carefully choosing what to share and what to keep to herself.  

— You’ll know soon enough. For now, I suggest we enjoy the scene.  

Nami frowned, clearly dissatisfied with the evasive response. She wasn’t the type to accept vague answers without questioning, especially when it came to the safety of her crew. The navigator took a step forward, approaching Ena with a challenging posture.  

— "Soon enough"? — Nami repeated, her voice sharp. — That’s not an answer. If you know something about what’s going on here, you’d better speak up now. We’re not playing around.  

— There’s no need to be hostile, Nami — Ena said, her voice soft, almost melodic. — I already told you, you’ll know soon.  

Before Nami could say another word, Luffy’s voice cut through the air like thunder, loud and defiant. He was standing, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles seemed ready to burst through his skin, while his eyes blazed with intensity. Frustration radiated from him in waves, visible even in the way his entire body trembled slightly, as if he were holding back something wild within him — something that threatened to explode at any moment.  

— Hey, you! — he shouted, his voice echoing across the area with unusual roughness. — Stop running away and fight properly!  

His jaw was clenched, teeth grinding against each other as he tried to control the torrent of emotions bubbling beneath the surface. It was rare to see Luffy so visibly irritated; usually, his anger was straightforward, quick, and impulsive, but here there was something different. It was as if every passing second added more weight to the fire already burning inside him, fueling his impatience.

There was a hint of disbelief mixed with his fury, as if he couldn’t comprehend why the masked figure kept avoiding him, refusing to face him directly.  

For Luffy, this wasn’t just irritating; it was almost an insult.  

There was no warning, no word or sound to signal his intention — just the crack of the air being sliced by the black blur that was his outstretched arm, lashing out like a live whip toward the masked figure. The world seemed to shrink in that instant, as if all the sounds and movements around them had been sucked into that single moment.  

She slid to the side as if the ground didn’t touch her, her movements so subtle they seemed to defy the logic of the physical world — while Luffy’s strike passed mere inches from her face. The white mask seemed to capture the faint light of dusk, reflecting it back at the world like a cold, distant moon, impassive and detached.  

Her eyes, however, told a different story. Even hidden in the deep shadows of empty, black orbits, they seemed to emanate something that went beyond the visible. There was no fear, no surprise — only a mixture of profound understanding and melancholy that would leave you uneasy if you stared too long.  

Luffy didn’t stop. He never stopped. His body spun like an enraged top, using the momentum from the first attack to launch another blow, this time with a clenched fist, straight at her chest. But again, she simply… wasn’t there. Her body leaned backward as if made of water, bending at an angle that seemed impossible. The punch passed so close that the wind generated by the force of the impact swept a few loose strands of hair from her hood. She didn’t retreat, didn’t try to create distance. Instead, she remained there, like a shadow dancing around a furious flame, always just out of reach.  

The scene was surreal. Luffy, whose energy normally overflowed like a river bursting its banks, seemed to be fighting against empty space itself. Every strike he threw found only air where there should have been flesh and bone. His frustration grew visibly, each guttural roar echoing across the frozen field. He leapt backward, gaining some distance for a brief moment, before launching himself forward again, this time with a spinning kick that seemed powerful enough to knock down a tree.

She ducked down, quick and precise, as if the movement had already been etched into her memory before it even happened. Luffy’s foot passed above her head, so close that the fabric of her hood rippled with the displacement of air. She didn’t raise her hands to block him, didn’t attempt to retaliate. It was as though everything she did was inevitable, as if she already knew every step of the choreography that Luffy improvised with his blind fury.  

The others watched, motionless. Zoro had his hand firmly resting on the hilt of one of his swords, but something kept him frozen. Perhaps it was the woman’s strange calmness, or perhaps it was the fact that, no matter how violent Luffy’s attacks were, she showed no intention of harming him. It was like watching two opposite sides of the same coin: the storm and the stillness.  

Smoker, the cigar still clenched between his teeth, furrowed his brow as he observed the scene from a distance. He took a step forward, his deep voice cutting through the icy air with a direct question.  

— Was it the base that sent you?  

Nanao let out a short laugh, almost muffled, that sounded more like veiled irony than genuine amusement. Her eyes gleamed under the faint light, and she crossed her arms, leaning back slightly, as if the question had touched on something that deeply amused her.  

Dante, however, maintained his respectful demeanor. He adjusted the lapel of his black tailcoat before responding, his voice soft but firm.  

— No, Vice-Admiral. Our arrival at Punk Hazard was initially motivated by the investigation into the disappearances of the children, but… — he paused briefly, his eyes fixed on Smoker with a neutral expression — we eventually discovered that the young lady had personal matters to attend to here. I believe even she didn’t expect the circumstances to converge in this way.  

Dante’s tone was polite, but there was something in it that suggested this explanation was all Smoker would get for now. There was no arrogance in his words, just a calm clarity that made it clear they weren’t there to ask for permission.  

Smoker raised an eyebrow, clearly dissatisfied with the evasive response. He removed the cigar from his mouth and held it between two fingers, studying Dante for a moment before speaking again.  

— Personal matters? — he repeated, his voice laced with skepticism. — That doesn’t sound very convincing. You show up in the middle of a Marine operation, and something tells me the World Government didn’t request this interference. Do you really expect me to believe this is going to end here?

Nanao let out another low laugh, this time not bothering to hide the sarcastic tone. She shook her head slightly, as if finding it amusing that Smoker was still trying to piece together a puzzle he would never have full access to. Dante, on the other hand, remained impassive, simply giving a slight nod of acknowledgment to Smoker’s suspicion without showing any sign of agitation.  

— What do you expect us to say, Vice-Admiral? — Dante responded, his voice still calm but now carrying a firmer edge that left no room for further questions. — We’re here for the same reasons you are: to protect the innocent and uncover the truth. Anything else… — he paused deliberately, his gaze briefly meeting Nanao’s — is secondary.  

The scene was interrupted by another thunderous blow from Luffy, which echoed through the air, reminding everyone that the situation was far from resolved.  

— Luffy! — Nami shouted, her voice cutting through the air like lightning. — Wait!  

But Luffy didn’t wait. He never waited. With a roar that seemed to rise from the depths of his soul, he charged again, this time using both hands in a desperate attempt to grab her. It was a move almost childishly simple in its execution, but it carried the raw brute force of someone who didn’t understand limits. He stretched his arms as far as they could go, enveloping the space around her like a web.  

She spun with a fluid motion, as if the air itself guided her, narrowly escaping his grasp. When she stopped, she was just a few steps away, as calm as before, as if nothing could disturb her composure. The black dress clung to her body like a second skin, the leather corset molded to her waist accentuating every movement with almost surgical precision. The long skirt flared out in an evasé cut that resembled the wings of a resting crow. The tight sleeves, ending in impeccable leather gloves, seemed to absorb the faint light, while the shoulder plates — delicately carved with intricate, tangled patterns — reflected a subtle gleam, suggesting a certain elegance.  

For a moment, Luffy hesitated. It wasn’t fear; he never felt fear. But something about that gesture made him freeze, as if he were facing something familiar, though he couldn’t quite identify what. He furrowed his brow, confused, trying to understand what that movement had stirred within him.  

Then, finally, she spoke, her voice low but heavy with meaning.

— You haven’t changed at all. Your face is still as round and squishy as a meatball.  

The words hit him like a stone thrown into still water, sending ripples of emotion he didn’t know how to contain. Only one person had called him that during his childhood — and only one person had dared compare his face to a meatball. His entire body tensed, and for the first time since the battle began, he hesitated not out of strategy or instinct, but sheer disbelief.  

The woman slowly raised her hand and removed the mask covering her face.  

And Luffy’s mind froze in place.  

His entire world seemed to collapse and rebuild itself all at once. There, before him, stood someone he thought he had lost forever. The white hair, almost invisible against the snow, the smooth brown skin, and those honey-colored eyes, so vibrant he knew them better than his own — it all struck him like a physical blow. He felt as if he were looking at a mirage, something too impossible to be real. His mind screamed that this couldn’t be happening, but his eyes insisted it was.  

Without saying a word, he began walking calmly toward her, as if afraid any sudden movement might make her vanish into thin air. His steps were slow, almost hesitant — something rare for someone like Luffy, whose energy usually overflowed uncontrollably. Each step felt like it weighed tons, yet it carried with it a lightness he hadn’t felt in years. He reached out his hand slowly, as if about to touch a mirage — something too fragile to be true.  

She simply watched him, not moving a muscle except for the growing smile on her lips. Then, when he was close enough to feel the warmth radiating from her, she raised her arms and opened them wide, revealing that familiar gesture buried deep within Luffy’s memories. It was the same welcoming smile he remembered from his childhood, the one that always believed in him and promised comfort no matter what he did.  

In that instant, something inside him broke. All caution, all disbelief melted away like ice under the sun. With a strangled cry that mixed laughter and tears, he ran toward her, forgetting completely where he was or who else might be watching. There were no more barriers between them; only the visceral urge to reach her, to ensure she was real.  

With an impulsive leap, he flew toward her, colliding forcefully against her body as he hugged her with every ounce of strength he possessed. They both tumbled into the snow, the impact soft but emotionally devastating. Her hood slipped off, fully revealing her face. Tears began streaming from Luffy’s eyes, thick and fast, as he held her tightly, unable to believe she was truly there. He muttered something incoherent, words only he could understand, while his body trembled with the intensity of his emotions.  

— You’re real! — Luffy exclaimed, his voice choked with emotion. He tightened the embrace even further, as if trying to merge with her, making sure this wasn’t another cruel dream. — I thought... I thought you were…  

She laughed, a soft, melodic sound that echoed, blending with the wind. Her gloved hands found his shoulders, gently pushing him back just enough to look into his eyes. Tears glistened at the corners of her eyes, but her smile remained firm, radiating a tenderness only he knew.  

The snow began to dissipate slowly, carried away by the wind, and finally the figures of Luffy and the woman became visible to everyone. He lay sprawled over her, crying as if the world were collapsing onto his shoulders. She, on the other hand, embraced him with equal intensity, as if holding onto something precious she feared losing again.  

No one said a word for a long moment. The sound of Luffy’s sobs filled the silence with a feeling no one there could ignore.  

Robin observed everything with a thoughtful expression, as if trying to piece something together. Franky sniffled, attempting to hide the emotions threatening to spill over. Brook, meanwhile, murmured something about “tears of joy,” though no one was sure if he was being sincere or just trying to lighten the heavy atmosphere.  

As for Luffy, he barely noticed the world around him. All that existed for him in that moment was this woman — the person he had sworn to protect but who had disappeared from his life without warning. He held her as if fearing she might vanish again, his tears melting the snow beneath them. In his mind, flashes of the past collided with the present: shared laughter and promises made. He felt anger, relief, guilt, and happiness — all at once, an emotional storm threatening to consume him entirely.  

But above all, he felt hope.

[swamiiyasssss]

Dragonfly In Red

Jason Todd x Vigilante!OfficeSiren!Reader

This Hood would never have thought he'd fell in love with a goddamn suit. Tall, dark and gorgeous, she was the wildest of his dreams. A dragonfly amongst the birds, the bats, standing out too much for his own liking.

The suit's got secrets; He intends to take it all for his own.

Dragonfly In Red by yasswami Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Batman - All Media Types, Batman (Comics), Batman: Arkham - All Media Types, Batman: Under the Red Hood (2010), DCU, DCU (Comics), Red Hood/Arsenal (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Batman: Arkham (Video Games) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con Relationships: Jason Todd/Reader, Jason Todd/Original Female Character(s), Jason Todd/Original Character(s), minor Luke Fox/Reader Characters: Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Damian Wayne, Titus | Damian Wayne's Dog, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Stephanie Brown, Joker (DCU), Cassandra Cain, Tim Drake, Lucius Fox, Luke Fox, Arkham Asylum Inmates, Arkham Asylum Staff (DCU), Riddler (Batman 1966), Jim Gordon Additional Tags: Slow To Update, Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Episode: s01e09 Enemies and Lovers, Lazy Sex, Hate Sex, NSFW, Smut, Angst, Heavy Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Character Death, Canonical Character Death, Vigilantism, Vigilante Reader, Blood and Violence, Psychological Horror, Psychological Torture, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Sex, Emotional Manipulation, Explicit Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Blood and Injury, Blood Kink, Blood As Lube, Recreational Drug Use, Bondage and Discipline, Chair Bondage, Non-Sexual Bondage, Body Horror, Body Worship, Corporate core, Office Sex, Police Officer Dick Grayson, Restraints, Angry Sex, Angry Kissing, Fake Character Death, Survivor Guilt, Power Imbalance, Power Play, Office SIREN reader, suits & bandages, whump, can u notice i got a thing for blood aha

Jason bares his teeth. “ I find a dragonfly, ensnared in my trap.”

Red Hood/You. Dark & Explicit Themes. Mind the Tags.

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

Every Storm Clears Eventually

by RIN_The_Bandit After one too many issues bombard him, Tim snaps while searching for Bruce. He dirties his hands and stumbles upon a new way to bring his father back, Chronomancy. Except, Tim never expected the spell to send him back twelve years? But he's smart, and he might not have the Bats as backup anymore, but he'll make this timeline better than before. Though, he never expected Constantine to get involved, or for the Bats to remember. Words: 37896, Chapters: 21/21, Language: English Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, Red Robin (Comics) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: Other Characters: Tim Drake (DCU), Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Damian Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Stephanie Brown, Cassandra Cain, Kon-El | Conner Kent, Bart Allen, Original Male Character(s), Original Female Character(s) Relationships: Batfamily Members & Tim Drake (DCU), Tim Drake & Original Character(s), Tim Drake & Kon-El | Conner Kent, Bart Allen & Tim Drake, Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson, Tim Drake & Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Damian Wayne Additional Tags: Tim Drake-centric (DCU), Tim Drake Angst (DCU), Tim Drake Needs a Hug (DCU), Tim Drake Gets a Hug (DCU), Good Parent Bruce Wayne, Good Sibling Dick Grayson, Good Sibling Jason Todd, Good Sibling Damian Wayne, Tim Drake is Joker Jr., Tim Drake is Red Robin (DCU), Time Travel Fix-It, Chronic Illness, Tim Drake Has Self-Worth Issues, His parents are still dead, Tim Drake Deserves Happiness, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, no beta we die like tim's parents via https://ift.tt/mH7kgVB

[poisonousquinzel]

Origin

Harleen (2019) [Comic]

Harley Quinn: Mad Love [Novel]

The New Batman Adventures "Mad Love" [Episode]

Villain -> Emancipation Arc

Batman: The Animated Series

"Harlequinade", "Harley & Ivy", "Harley's Holiday"

Batgirl Adventures (1997)

Detective Comics #831

Harley Quinn: Wild Card (Backstories). [Book]

Batman: Gotham Adventures #10

Batman Secret Files: The Gardener

Injustice: Year Zero #7 - #8, #14

Unofficial Continuation Of Harleen (2019)

Harley Quinn (2000) #1, #2, #4, #6, #12

Harley Quinn: Black + White + Red #1, #3, #14

"Harleen: Red", "Get Yer Story Straight", "Fixer Upper"

Harley Quinn: Make Em Laugh #1, #2

"Headshrink", "Housewarming", "The Lady or The Tiger"

Harley Quinn: Black + White + Redder #2

#2: "Origin Stories For Dummies", [skip middle story], "Coffee And Pie Oh My"

Batman (2016 - ) #105

---

Notes {Mild Spoiler Warning}

Batman (2016 - ) #105

This is in the middle of a story arc, but it doesn't really matter. Only context you need for Harley's part is that she, Batman and a kid named Bao (Clownhunter) were knocked out and brought to Arkham as a part of a separate conflict between Bruce and someone. ❤️

Harley Quinn: Black + White + Red

The first chapter, "Harleen: Red", is connected to and takes place in the Harleen (2019) universe. Best read after Harleen and the unofficial continuation.

The continuation is just parts that Stjepan has posted online over the years, I tried my best to put them in an order that flowed. <3

Batman Secret Files: The Gardener

The full comic isn't Harley centric, but I absolutely adore the way Bella tells the tale of Ivy's origin & meeting Harley, it's a cute part showing their relationship.

Harley Quinn: Wild Card (Backstories)

This one is kinda like a somewhat more detailed cliff notes for kids. Parts of her origin is different and aligned with her Rebirth one, but I think it's great to get a feeling of how her character progresses. Though like I said, it is definitely for a preteen & younger audience so some stuff is watered down. Her relationship with Joker isn't as graphically abusive (he's a toxic little bitch, but not shown being directly physical with her.), and her introduction into the Suicide Squad is more chill and something she agrees to do.

But even with that, I love it! It's got pencil sketches throughout, notes from Harley herself which I think is a lovely detail and added bits about her relationship with Ivy over the years.

Harley Quinn (2000)

#6: this is kinda the beginning of a two chapter plot, but I'm including for stuff in this chapter only.

Also, her characterization during one part that involves Bruce's female bodyguard feels ooc imo, especially considering it's the same writer from #2.

[mycrofts-umbrella]

Hiii! 28 fem here, I'm **not** replacing anyone, just looking for anyone who would be interested in more stories with me. I have more time to write so if you are 21+ please don't hesitate to send me a dm! Most random stuff but willing to do original characters as well! I love talking ooc, it helps keep me engaged and I love plotting and collaborating! Can do some days of rapid fire responses, other times it might take a few days. I know real life comes first and I will always be patient so no worries. Would love to hear from you!

Here are some of the fandoms with pairings/tropes I like:

**Spock/Kirk** - Wholesome sci-fi adventures, potential for shorter procedural missions, would ideally want to expand and write other members of the enterprise as needed (such as Bones, Sulu, Nyota, Chekov, Scotty, Nurse Chapel, etc.), would play/write either characters

**Charles/Erik** - Friends to Lovers to Enemies, would do either post xmen first class cherik or would do older versions of them, darker themes, I would prefer to write Erik in this because I don't think I can do the optimistic Charles justice, we need to plot further with this one cause I would be down for lots of ideas

**Deadpool/Spider-Man** - slooooooow burn to even get to friends then maybe 🌈, would mainly start as Deadpool and Spider-Man running into each other doing work/patrols in the city and mexican food, prefer to write as Deadpool but would be willing to write Peter

**Deadpool/Wolverine** - post movie, Logan has nightmares, differences in their timelines, Logan visits this universe's version of the X-Men. Would be open to writing either.

**Harry/Hermione** - my preference would be to start sometime during deathly hallows after Ron left and Harry and Hermione are still dealing with the Horcrux, and writing either is good with me

**Hannibal/Will** - MURDER HUSBANDS 4EVER, post fall, (or I also have very many ideas for this ship, oh man), I would loooove to play Will for once in my friggin life but I would also understand that your sweet soul could not handle Hannibal and I have experience writing hanni

**Lestat/Louis** - set season 2 finale, during the hurricane, sweet *sweet* depressing vampire cuddles while mourning our daughter crying blood, but I get that's a LOT to start so also start of s3 rockstat era, Louis doing Lestat's makeup, would write either, genuinely love these two, tho more experience writing Lestat

**Daniel/Armand** - devil's minion era, or post season 2 TV show devil's minion, Armand IS ALICE au(?), open to writing either (would also do a one shot for Daniel/Louis)

**Crowley/Aziraphale** - I prefer writing Crowley but that's cause I have a very specific view of him and his feelings for Aziraphale, however I do like writing Aziraphale too, post season 2, or lots of different ideas for this one too

**Joker/Akechi** - set p5r term 3, OR Akechi has a palace that they do after Sae’s palace and before Shido’s cause I think Akechi should get to do a patricide, or whenever joker sleeps and goes to the Velvet Room, Akechi is there or they know they are the two tricksters from the start and Joker starts in the metaverse with Akechi and Joker knows about Akechi’s murders but Akechi is his only family until he finally meets the phantom thieves and starts to pull away from Akechi and wants to turn him in

**Lucy/The Ghoul/Cooper Howard** - heterosexuals strike again, post season finale as they track down Kyle McLaughlin and figure out what is happening, would probably prefer to play The Ghoul but I would also like Lucy too so IDK not a hard preference actually

**Hughie/OC** - AU he leaves the boys and lives a normal life and is cherished for ONCE in his ridiculous existence, would be fine with either male or female OC just not starlight sorry Annie January you have a cool name but your powers kinda suck and ur personality is idk I just think him and Kimiko would have been cute 🥰

**Homelander/OC** - again I'm fine with male or female and would prefer to write the OC but am open to it. OC could be someone new joining The Seven or someone he somehow met during his childhood (maybe even Sage or Hughie)

**Tyrion Lannister/Daenerys Targaryen** - rewind a few seasons, take things slower then follow the journey to King's Landing and the Red Keep, maybe when they first met, would write either but have more experience as Daenerys. (Sidenote: I also ship Jorah/Dany and Tyrion/Varys so same thing)

**AU / Tropes** I like and would do with ANY of the ships and characters above or even OCs:

Soulmate AU

Hanahaki disease

Teammates/Roommates

Childhood best friends

Enemies-to-lovers

Coffeeshop (always - one exists in every fandom and ship)

Stockholm syndrome 🕊️

Powers OR (No Powers for fandoms that have supes, mutants, magic, etc. )

Amnesia where person A wakes up and doesn't remember person B but wrongly (rightly) assumes person B is their spouse/significant other or just memory loss of critical moments

If you're interested at all, my dms are open! Thank you! 🖤🫶🏼🩵

[gotham25052]

Dark Waters Part 4

As the social fabric of Gotham begins to fray and the Joker's intrusion into her life escalates, Anna struggles to maintain control. But is she threatened by the Joker or by something within herself?

Image: The Wave, Gustave Courbet

Contents: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Overall fic warnings: Explicit violence and explicit sexual content.

Chapter warnings: 18+, violence, non-consensual touching

Let's just get into it, I love this week's chapter.

Dark Waters, Part 4

He made darkness his secret place; his pavilion round about him were dark waters and thick clouds of the skies. Psalm 18:11

The air was fresh and cool. Annie was sitting on one of the larger boulders in the stone seawall late at night, watching the endless waves breaking against the rocks. It was windy; a storm was brewing. Summer was quickly giving way to fall. Her hair blew free, tousled by the wind.

Gotham was slowly returning to normal as more and more stores opened, and her work had even come back from its hiatus. Restaurant hours were limited and events were few and far between, but there was plenty to do - she was one of the few employees who had stayed in the city and was available to work. With less events, the job was more tolerable, and she almost appreciated the return to a typical routine. But the break from her income meant that she was even further from being able to pay her bills.

In the city, she could feel a shift. Things were not what they had been. A distrust seemed to float in the air. It was invisible, but everyone knew it was there. The leaders and institutions of Gotham had failed its residents. When the food shortage happened, people had at first expected someone would come and rescue them, but no one did. Batman had not been sited since Dent became mayor, and the police were busy looking for the Joker. People felt abandoned. She didn't feel sadness in the air, though - it was anger.

Life seemed surreal for her after the crisis. She now had a constant reminder of the Joker's attention - two of his men had appeared posted at her door for the last few weeks. When she woke up in the morning after the night the Joker had spent sleeping in her apartment, she had been relieved to find him gone but surprised to see that the men had stayed, lounging in the hallway. The Joker had shrugged off the visit from Benjamin, but it seemed that he had decided to take precautions. Seeing the men made her uneasy every time she left her apartment, but she accepted that there was nothing she could do about their presence.

On the days she worked, just as in the past, what she enjoyed was the commute. She felt somehow freer when she was on a bus or walking in the city, and she often visited her favorite spot for watching the water. She had decided to stop today despite the late hour.

Her thoughts drifted to her work. It was all right at the moment, but she wondered how long Gotham Culinary would stay open in this newly unstable world. The hiatus had been devastating for the business, and the current shortages meant that they were not able to meet clients' exacting tastes at events. The wealthy of Gotham still expected all of the same luxuries as before the crisis, and they felt the company was liable for anything that was missing. She sighed, feeling the weight of the consequences if she were to lose her job. She had such a hard time even getting work in the first place when she had arrived in Gotham. Coming from a closed, isolated community, she had no credit, no job history. She shivered to think of what would happen if she could no longer pay the rent and lost her apartment.

Suddenly she became aware of a strange sensation - she had felt the wind whipping her hair around before, but now it seemed like something was gently pulling on sections of it instead. She felt a presence behind her and quickly turned around to face whatever was there.

She gasped as she recognized the figure - it was the Joker, but without any makeup adorning his face. It was jarring to see him without his mask. The normality of his appearance and the perfect symmetry of his features were out of sync with his fiery eyes, opened slightly too widely as he regarded her shocked expression. The lower half of his face was camouflaged by a thick scarf. But now he smiled and the far corners of his protruding scars peeked out on each side of the plaid material. He wore a simple black jacket, a common style for men in the city.

"I've been here a long time, playing with your hair. You must have been thinking about something… important," he said, the familiar voice out of sync with his present appearance.

He leaned in closer to the side of her face, his scarf falling down slightly and exposing his scarred lips. He looked as if he was telling her a secret that was only between the two of them.

"You know, people will think we're lovers, here on the rocks, watching the water." The words sent a chill down her back, and she looked around, realizing that he was right. Only a few people dotted the seawall on this stormy day, but none of them would have taken a second look at the young man and woman sitting on the rocks close together, talking. She felt like she couldn't catch her breath.

"Why don't you turn around so I can play with your hair again, kitten. We can talk like lovers do." He said it with a sarcasm that gave the words a vicious edge.

She turned back to the water, and he began gathering her hair into a ponytail and letting it go again, pursing his lips and making a "pfff" sound, imitating an explosion, whenever he let her hair down. She could feel his fingers touching her ears and neck as he organized the strands and then let them go again.

Her posture was rigid, on alert. After some time he said, "Why do you come here to the water? Why aren't you at home in your snug little bed?"

She was silent, finding it hard to put anything into words as she tried to comprehend the fact that even here, out in the open, he was still in control. The few people who had been loitering on the rocks were gone now.

He grabbed her hand suddenly, interlacing his fingers with hers as if they were simply holding hands, and she felt the familiar end of the nail file outlined on her index finger. She froze.

"Talk to me, ok?"

She nodded, unable to speak. He let her hand go and she made an attempt to say something. She whispered a breathless "I… come here…"

"That's good, I'll give you time, I have plenty to do to keep me busy," he said soothingly. She was always shocked at how quickly he could change his tone. His voice now was like velvet, and though she knew it was all just a show for him, the false softness of it did somehow comfort her and give her some strength to start talking. He was now combing her hair with his fingers, gently raking them through the wind-blown strands.

She started more audibly, "I like to come here to see the waves. I don't know why. At night… I think I like the way the light plays on the surface. It changes all the time."

"Mm-hmm," he muttered, seemingly distracted by a particularly thick section of hair he was running through his fingers.

She had never tried to put into words what she liked about the black depths of these strange waves, but now it seemed she would have to. "The waves at night, they look so solid, like glass - but they are moving, changing shape all the time. I can't see through them, and yet I know there is so much depth to each of them. It's impossible to measure them. If I were to reach in, I wouldn't be able to even touch the other side of the wave. And then I think about how each of them is only just the surface, the water is a hundred times deeper than the wave. And I guess I get lost in the depth and I feel - kind of - lost and free at the same time. Like I've forgotten about everything that has happened, everything that is on my mind…"

He dropped the strands of hair and leaned in confidentially. "Me too," he said.

She was surprised and turned around to see his face, wondering if his words had any touch of sincerity. His dark brown eyes looked at hers unflinchingly as usual and his face was inscrutable. It was impossible to see his thoughts, with or without the makeup.

"Ok, just relax, you don't need to talk anymore. Let's look at the water."

He continued to play with her hair for some time, and whether it was due to the crashing waves, the exhilaration of the wind, or the simple passage of time, she calmed down and her posture relaxed again. She lost herself in watching the churning surface of the water.

Suddenly she came back into the moment, realizing that her head was now being forced from side to side. He had taken to tightly gathering all of her hair, using it to pull her head to one side, and then the other, as if he were experimenting with how far he could turn it. She said carefully, "I don't think this is what lovers do."

"Some do," he said. But he stopped, pulling his hands away.

"Well, we must come here again sometime, but now I think it's time to go," he said with overdone politeness. She looked around, realizing hours had passed and the first rays of morning sun were creeping over the water on the horizon.

"I'll walk you home," he said, leaving her no room for comment. They climbed up the rocks. He straightened his scarf and took her arm in a courteous manner, but he had a steely grip that she knew would be impossible to break away from. And yet she didn't feel trapped with the autumn wind whipping around her and the open, early-morning street in front of them. It seemed so simple, as if he were meant to be walking beside her here. She struggled with the idea, recognizing that she was next to the most dangerous monster in Gotham - he was pulling the city apart even as they strode calmly together in its streets. She felt some sense of relief as she noticed that he was in fact taking her toward her building.

She marveled at how easily such a character could blend into a crowd by removing the garish paint from his face. Other than being slightly overdressed for the fall weather, he appeared as a completely normal Gothamite strolling along in the early morning hours.

He noticed her studying him. "You know, before long, the mayor will have more of a reason to hide his face than I do." The corners of his scars appeared again above the scarf.

Her stomach dropped. She wasn't sure what he meant, but what would things be like if everything was turned on its head, if there was some kind of change in the power structure of Gotham?

"What are you afraid of?" he said, noticing her apprehension.

She struggled to vocalize what was bothering her.

"If things change… I don't know what will happen. I won't be able to go to work, I won't be able to pay my rent…"

He dropped her arm suddenly, stopping his steady gait to turn and look at her.

"Why do you want to live like that? Wearing yourself out every day to barely survive in this city? Are you happy following the plan - the plan that says you need to work yourself to death and live from day to day? That comforts you?" His voice was choked with anger.

She stepped back, surprised by his sudden outburst. His scarf had come undone while he talked, and she could see his whole face now, filled with frustration.

"Is that what you want, Annie? To be born at that little hospital over there," he gestured into the air in the half-light of morning, "and then they'll put you in the ground in that cemetery over there." He gestured into nothingness on his other side. "That's enough for you? They'll just put you in a box and cover you with dirt."

She looked on silently, his words sinking into her consciousness and bringing up thoughts that had come to her before in moments of exhaustion. What was the purpose of all this? Why did she toil every day, seemingly for nothing? If she had been somewhat comfortable, she might be able to blissfully ignore his words, but her everyday survival was pushed so close to the edge that she couldn't turn away. Society had given her nothing to hide behind. No matter what she did, she realized she could never pay the bills. She felt suffocated, like Sisyphus at the bottom of the mountain looking up at his never-ending task.

She felt the breeze on her face again and came out of her reverie. He was starting to draw attention with his loud voice and animated manner. She became alarmed as she turned to see two police officers rounding the corner.

She said quietly, "bend over toward me." Something in her voice made him obey intuitively. She looped the scarf back around his neck and face, covering his identifiable scars. She pulled him down to sit with her on the apartment steps, and they watched the officers walk by, barely noticing the young woman and the man with the scarf. He raised his eyebrows, and she could tell he was smiling.

"I'll… go now," she said, and walked up the steps to her building. He let her walk away, watching her disappear through the open doorway.

She saw the shipments of food outside her apartment building almost every day now. The supplies sent to Lower Gotham had increased tenfold, even though the situation now was not nearly as dire as it had been. She knew why. She had seen it on the small TV in the lobby of the apartment building, she had heard it replayed on her bus rides - a leaked audio clip of Mayor Dent that must have been captured during a phone call at the beginning of the crisis.

There was the muddled sound of someone explaining that the first food shipment to Lower Gotham had been stolen, and then Harvey Dent's voice, clear as crystal: "What happened to the first shipment? Those rats in Lower Gotham, we can't send anything down there. Cut the shipments to Lower Gotham by half, and there will be less for them to steal." An impatient viciousness in his voice made it sound different from his usual public speeches to the people of Gotham, but it was clear to any listener that it was Dent. No one knew who had captured and leaked the audio, but everyone assumed that the Joker had orchestrated it.

The newspapers had a field day. It seemed that once the crowd began to turn against him, there was no stopping the rising tide of bad publicity. The newspaper headlines became more and more outlandish. "White Knight to White Rat: Harvey Dent's downfall," "Harvey Dented: What the Damage Means for the Next Election," "Public Enemy #1: The Joker or Harvey Dent?"

The Joker had eviscerated Dent's reputation and almost certainly ended his political career. The mayor was already on the hunt for him, and this attack on his career was so personal, so brutal, she recognized that Dent would probably do anything to get his revenge. And the thought made her uncomfortable. She struggled to put her finger on why - if the Joker was back in Arkham, that would remove a dark shadow from her life. But something about it bothered her. Maybe it was her aversion to having her own freedom curtailed that made her hate to see someone as wild and free as the Joker trapped in a padded cell. Maybe that's why she had protected him from the police when she wrapped the scarf around his scarred face. She had trouble understanding her own feelings, but she felt a strong uneasiness when she thought of what a power-hungry politician might do after his hopes for success were dashed.

She had been sitting near the window, running over the recent events in her mind, when one of the men stationed in the hallway opened the door. He was carrying a small, old-fashioned suitcase. He set it down just inside the doorway, his explanation offering few details: "He said to use this stuff and put on the dress by eight." The man returned to the hallway immediately after making the announcement.

She had almost gotten used to the Joker's men standing watch outside her door day and night, but they never communicated with her. Now she seemed to have an assignment and felt anxious as she opened the suitcase. In it was a rolled-up garment bag and hair and makeup products. It looked as if someone had walked into a store and quickly emptied the cosmetics shelves into the open case. Her brow furrowed as she realized that was probably exactly how the products came to be here.

She unzipped the garment bag hesitantly and inside saw a glamorous red dress, sparkling with beads and embroidered sequins. She quickly turned away, fear returning as she realized she would have to wear this in front of the Joker. What was his plan? She doubted he was taking her out on a date. Despite her agitation, the thought almost made her laugh. In this world turned upside down, dressing extravagantly and going out with the Joker seemed somehow less distressing than it did a few weeks ago. It was more a surreal image in her mind and less a blank void of terror.

She really had no choice and began to look through the other items in the bag. Although there was every type of makeup imaginable, there were only a few hair products - a dye kit and shampoo. She accepted that he must mean for her to change her hair color.

As the afternoon wore on into evening, the more she prepared, the more nervous she became. At first it seemed like this must just be a dream or a trick of her imagination. But when she saw herself change as she combed the dark auburn dye into her hair, added makeup, and put on the dress, it became much more real. The dress only made it worse, as it was an off-the-shoulder style with a revealing high slit on one side. It was form-fitting but still seemed slightly too loose on the shoulders. The fit was slightly off, just like her always-askew catering uniforms.

She gave the makeup and hair her best effort, but she knew it wasn't perfect. She wasn't used to dressing this way and only used the most basic makeup when she was assigned to serve guests at the restaurant or at parties. She finally gave up and simply sat down to wait for him to arrive. The weight of the unknown pressed down on her, making her wish she could somehow escape but knowing that she couldn't.

"Let's go!" he said as he entered the silent apartment. He flicked on the lights. She had let the room go dark as the sun set, lost in her apprehension for the Joker's arrival. She blinked and looked toward him. He seemed to have refreshed his face paint and looked exhilarated, as if he was ready for a night on the town.

He looked at her closely. "Uh, hmm. This isn't too convincing," he said, noticing her simple hair and basic makeup. "Where did you put everything? I'll help," he said hurriedly. He grabbed the bag and kneeled in front of her as she sat in stunned silence.

"You don't go to many parties, do you?" he asked. He was adding a generous amount of lipstick, and she knew he didn't expect a reply. He applied more color around her eyelids and chose the darkest mascara.

"I almost forgot, I brought something for those eyes," he said. He produced a small container from his jacket. "We should have done this before the makeup. Have you ever worn contacts? Oh, never mind," he said, not waiting for an answer. "Just open your eyes." She did her best to pull her eyelids apart, afraid of the consequences if she didn't do as he said. He put the brown contacts in expertly and was done in a moment. She felt the foreign sensation on her eye, but it was not painful.

"There" he said, motioning to the other side of the room. She crept into the bathroom to look into the mirror and found that he had done an expert job, although it was perhaps overdone. The face appeared strange to her, like it was that of some foreign visitor and not her own.

"Let's go, we'll be late, Annie." He rarely said her name, and it jarred her to hear it as she walked toward the door.

"I'll take care of the keys," he said as he opened the door for her, exaggerating his gentlemanly act. She walked through, and he hurried her out of the building and toward a waiting car.

She found herself in the back seat with two of his men, the Joker sitting up front with the driver. The interior of the car smelled musty, like it had been hidden in an old garage or storage unit for a long time. The Joker seemed to be giving instructions as they sped away. She realized that he was probably guiding them through the streets carefully in an effort to avoid the checkpoints the mayor had set up during the food crisis.

It was clear that they were coming into Upper Gotham, and she looked toward the sparkling skyscrapers. If she hadn't been so nervous about whatever errand the Joker had her on, she would have enjoyed seeing the lights of the city appear to flicker as a flurry of snow blew through. It was a little hint of the season before the real cold set in. She disliked the frigid air of the city in winter, but the sparse flakes falling now were charming, softening the often harsh lines of Gotham.

"Well look at that, we're here," he said from the front. She recognized the building. The catering company she worked for had staffed several dinner parties here. It included a few popular event venues plus a news studio on one of the upper floors. She noticed a sign for a Wayne Enterprises charity ball. Had the Joker come to crash another of Bruce Wayne's events? She thought she had seen something in the news about this being the first event hosted by Wayne since the disastrous fundraiser where she had met the Joker.

"I've worked here before," she said as everyone but the driver exited the car and headed toward the building.

"Well, this will be a different experience for you, kitten. Now you're unrecognizable, you're one of them. You're valuable because your clothes are valuable. You're a rich, beautiful, young woman. They will really… care about you."

"I don't know if I can play that role for you," she said cautiously, knowing she would never blend in with wealthy Gothamites.

"Oh, you can, just wait," he said ominously.

They entered the building and quickly made their way through an empty hallway on the main floor. He brought the two men and Annie with him onto an empty elevator.

"Let's see - 20th floor I believe," he said as if they were going on a tour of the building. She could see from the control panel labels in the elevator that the GCN news station was on the 20th floor. She grew even more confused.

"Don't worry, you'll be perfect," he said, noticing her wide eyes. In one quick motion, he had her in his grasp, his arm around her shoulders and the switchblade to her throat. She wrenched her body to the left, away from the knife, but it was no use. He regained control quickly, as if he was used to this posture. "Hmm," he said calmly as if he was considering what earrings would best complement her dress. He quickly reached up with the knife and cut the tie keeping her hair pinned back. It fell immediately in a messy cascade. She could hear him inhale deeply. "That's perfect," he said with satisfaction. The elevator doors opened.

The news was broadcasting live, so most of the staff were in the newsroom. Very few people were in the hallway. Those who were quickly ducked and ran, noticing the guns the men held and the terrible image of the Joker with a knife to the throat of the woman in the sparkling red dress.

The Joker half lifted her, half pushed her as he strode forward. She tried to move but her reactions were sluggish, as if her body was unable to process what was happening. They entered a large lobby area, also mostly empty. "That was good, very convincing," he purred in her ear as they entered.

He pushed her through the lobby at a quicker pace, and she found herself able to move again, stumbling forward as she came out of her initial shock. As they moved, he kept her held tightly - there was nothing she could do but keep going. He had given her a small forgiving space between the knife and her neck so that she could move her head, but the blade still shined there menacingly.

She realized that there was absolutely nothing she could do - it was as if she just had to come along for the ride. She had a surprising rush of exhilaration and her body relaxed in his arms. Something about being led along like this - she had no power over what would happen or which direction he would choose, and she felt like a heavy weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She didn't get to decide what to do at this point, or even to move under her own power. She had no decisions to make. He lifted her over the few steps from the lobby into the next hallway. She heard a whisper in her ear. "I knew you'd like it."

An uneasiness came over her as she realized he was right. She felt some kind of bizarre freedom in his arms. How many other things did he know about her that she didn't know about herself?

Soon they came to the large glass newsroom doors. He knocked politely, as if the room's inhabitants couldn't already look out and see the disturbing image of the Joker and his companions. One of the Joker's men moved his gun into position to shoot the glass, but someone quickly opened the door, while others panicked and hid under desks and behind camera equipment. They entered the room, and it became deathly silent. "I decided we'd try GCN tonight," he said, sitting Annie down in the news director's chair and motioning one of the men to keep her at gunpoint there.

"Hello, James," the Joker said, grabbing the front of the anchor's shirt and pulling him up from his position hiding under the desk, settling him back onto his stool. "Let's get the cameras going, please!," he yelled as he took a standing position on the opposite side of the desk. One of his men gestured at the camera operators with his weapon and they quickly complied.

"You're on air."

"Good evening! I'm here with, uh, James tonight." The anchor sat there with his eyes unfocused, obviously in shock.

"I was happy to see that the mayor came to his senses and decided to share some food with Lower Gotham. That was really so considerate of him. But it turns out that it's too late. Harvey didn't care about feeding you - why does he need to worry about policing you? All these checkpoints, it's really getting tiring for me and my men. Harvey Dent needs to remove the checkpoints, or I'll get rid of them for him. I'll put on a fireworks show that Gotham will never forget."

The Joker's men motioned to him, letting him know that time was running short. The police had been alerted and were on their way.

He acted quickly, yelling "That's a wrap! Cut the cameras." He turned to the stunned anchor, putting his hand up to the side of his head and simply pushing him off of the stool. He fell in a heap on the floor, still not making a sound. "If the girl wasn't with me, I'd have my men blow your head off for being such a coward," he said in an exasperated voice.

He walked toward Annie and pulled her up by her shoulder, this time producing his gun from his purple jacket. He held it near her head but pointed it upward. She felt her heart skip a beat as she looked out the glass doors and saw two security guards appear with guns drawn, facing them.

The guards opened the doors but hesitated at the entrance to the newsroom. The Joker pulled his arm tight around her shoulders, making her wince. "She looks nice in this color, doesn't she? Would you like to see more red? Do you want me to decorate the walls with her?" he said, his voice sounding completely unhinged. She froze, uncertain of her fate now. Did she really know what he would do?

"She's from one of the most important families in Gotham, attending Wayne's event tonight. Do you want her blood on your hands?" he asked, half-dragging her toward the open door.

The guards were obviously nervous, likely having never seen anything like this before. The Joker pushed toward them with her, seemingly unafraid. When they were within inches of their weapons, the guards finally withdrew. They dropped the guns and backed away, watching the strange figures leave.

They brushed past the frightened news staff on either side of the hallway, half walking and half sprinting out of the building. She breathed a sigh of relief as she saw that there were no police in the area yet, though she could hear distant sirens. "In the car," the Joker commanded the group, and they piled in to the back seat.

The car sped off into the night, unnoticed. The Joker gave quick instructions to the driver, taking them on a different route from the one they had used earlier. She was on the opposite side in the back, and she could see him in profile. He looked like he was making choices about which streets to take and pointing out locations to the man driving. She allowed her eyes to settle on his face as he smoothed back his unruly hair. He seemed to always know what to do, where to go, comfortable anywhere. He looked back at her suddenly, as if he sensed her eyes. She looked away, focusing her attention on the city lights and hoping he hadn't noticed how long she had been watching him.

The circuitous route finally brought them back to her building. She was starting to feel more comfortable now that she was at home, and she thought the Joker would likely move on now that he had delivered his message to Gotham. He unlocked the door for her and she entered the apartment. She felt a wave of apprehension when she turned around to find that he was following right behind her.

"Well, we dressed you so beautifully, but we forgot the best part," he said menacingly, as he closed the door and removed his gloves. She could only wait and watch anxiously. He unbuttoned his purple jacket and took it off, reaching into an interior pocket before he let it fall to the floor. The ruby necklace hung shining in his hands.

"How..?" she trailed off, shocked at the reappearance of the necklace.

"You think I don't have friends in the Gotham City PD?" he asked. Her blood ran cold as she realized he must know that she had talked to the police months ago. He only smiled and said, "Turn around, beautiful, I want to add the finishing touch to your ensemble." The image of him there holding the necklace ends in each hand stuck in her mind ominously, as if he was holding a weapon instead of jewelry.

To turn her back to him made her extremely uncomfortable, but she was even more afraid of the anger that seemed to be always seething behind his fiery eyes. And now he knew about her trip to the GCPD. Maybe simply obeying would satisfy whatever curiosity he had, and he would leave her in peace. She turned and he guided her with slow steps to stand in front of the bathroom mirror.

"Now lift up your hair," he said, his voice close to her ear. She carried out his request, shuddering as she felt his fingers dragging along her neck much more than should be necessary. She looked up, catching his eyes lingering on her skin with a focus that sent a chill through her. His eyes rolled upward to meet hers in the reflection and a slight smile crept over his face. He pulled the chain back against her throat a little too tightly, and her hands went up to her neck instinctively to protect herself.

"Don't worry, kitten, it's just a joke," he said dismissively. He loosened the pressure and simply tied the two broken ends of the necklace into a knot on the back of her neck.

The necklace was dazzling and matched the gaudy brilliance of the dress perfectly. It reflected the light in a thousand flashes onto the mirror and back into her eyes.

"Now that's what I'm talking about," he said, putting his hands on her shoulders as if he was proud of creating her current appearance.

She watched his reflection cautiously in the mirror. She could see his chest moving with deep breaths, and the fire in his eyes seemed somehow muted, clouded over. She could feel the energy in the room shift. His face changed, dropping the fake smile and light demeanor. His hand suddenly disappeared under the sleeve hanging off her shoulder, easily gliding under the bodice of her dress and taking a position dangerously close to her breast. She gasped and froze, breathing rapidly. She desperately searched her mind for some action she could take. He took his free hand and slowly traced the line of the necklace chain from the knot on the back of her neck down to her collar bone. For her it felt like time stopped and his hand would never come to rest. She watched him from his reflected image and suddenly noticed herself, a woman she barely recognized, in the mirror. Her hair tousled and the makeup slightly smeared, combined with the glittering red finery of the necklace - she felt somehow separated from herself.

She lurched backward with her body, in a futile effort to free herself. He easily kept her in his grasp in the cramped bathroom, his strong fingers digging into her ribs. She continued to try to wrench her body away from his hold, but as she struggled, she only felt more exposed.

"I can wait," he said calmly, running his tongue over the corners of his lips. She quieted again, catching her breath. He bent his head down to speak into her ear, never taking his eyes off their image in the mirror.

"Are you scared of what I might do," he said slowly and deliberately, "or are you scared of something…. else." He held her there for another moment, both of them focused on their reflection.

His hands were gone from her body as quickly as they had appeared. He slid out from behind her back and stepped around to face her, covering her view of the mirror with his tall form. She was frozen now, her body refusing to move.

He bent his knees slightly to lower himself so that his face was exactly even with hers. His eyes slowly rolled from her mouth up to her eyes and settled there with a calculating gaze. "How about a kiss?" he said casually, bringing his lips to barely graze hers. She felt chills radiate from the light touch down though the back of her neck and into the core of her body. His closeness was overwhelming. She turned her head away in shame. She couldn't even control her reaction to this man? He parted his lips slightly and backed away, clicking his tongue, putting his hands up in feigned innocence.

"Ok, kitten, I can see you don't want to play."

She leaned on the sink for support and hugged her chest in a protective motion. He put on his jacket, saying, "You can keep the necklace, but you'll need to take off the dress and leave it outside your door. My guys will pick it up. We wouldn't want you to have any evidence of our evening out to take to the GCPD the next time you go talk with them, would we?"

He left, slamming the door behind him.

Additional notes: This is fanfic, so of course I don't own any characters from The Dark Knight (Joker, Batman, etc.). The main female character is original.

[ao3statistics]

This is self-made. Date: 30.07.2024

Honestly, the only result surprising me is the HQ/Bruce Wayne ship...

OFC = Original Female Character(s)

The Jokester: a hero on Earth-3, appearing in the comic series "Countdown" in 2007.

Ivy Pepper: Poison Ivy from the Gotham TV series (correct me if I'm wrong)

Jerome Valeska: a mass murderer from the Gotham TV series who seems weirdly similar to the Joker

Richard "Rick" Flag Jr.: field commander of the modern Task Force X, also known as the Suicide Squad

Arthur Fleck: Jokers (potential) real name in some media

I assume no guarantee or liability for the completeness, correctness and accuracy of this chart despite my best efforts.

Includes fanfictions in all languages available on Ao3, NOT English only.

Includes all fandoms connected to the name "Harleen Quinzel" and her alias "Harley Quinn".

Percentages were rounded up or rounded down to natural numbers for easier comprehension.

Poly ships were included.

More charts will follow. :)

Want to have a chart for different pairings, headcanons etc. in your favourite fandom? Send me an ask!

[missfortuneisblue]

Jax the Chihuahua!

Don’t let his cuteness fool you, he’s a twisted f*cking psychopath!

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

Just started Medjed arc of P5R; here are my current thoughts on the characters I know so far:

Joker: Look, I know people say he's a "self-insert" but I really, really see a few very distinct personality traits in him. He's lost in thought a lot. He zones out. He's really goal-driven. He's clever. He's a risk-taker. He's wary of consequences. He takes a little while to trust people, especially adults. He's suspicious and easily annoyed. He's on your side. He wants to help. He's a snarky little shit. His compassion is as much his defiance as his bitter disdain. He's hesitant. He's confident. He's bluffing. His respect is earned. His assistance isn't. He's free. He's chained. He's larger than life. He's a dumbass dork of a teenager. Incredibly fun character to play as, 10/10. I love that you can actually see him becoming more confident as time goes on. His dialogue options also become sillier/snarkier/more teasing as he becomes closer with people. It's just fun. I have a lot more thoughts on him but I'm going to stop here. I'd love to do a bit of an analysis on him once I finish the game - I'd like to go back through his main story dialogue options and his idle and specific scene animations. Plus, they seriously popped off with his character design. There's so much I could say about that alone.

Ryuji: Ryuji, my beloved. I wish you were less horny in uncomfortable ways in some scenes - I think, as well as Atlus not knowing what teenage girls are like, they also have not... spoken to people raised by single mothers, or mothers who got out of an abusive relationship... but anyways, asides from that, I love Ryuji. I think his desire for popularity makes a lot of sense - he's only ever stood out in a bad way. He just wants to be liked, you know? And he doesn't think he's enough the way he is. He's trying his best. I need him to shut up so bad but also I hope he never shuts up, you know. He's genuinely so funny, and he's the most ride or die of anyone. Ryuji gets angry on everyone's behalf when they can't muster up their own anger yet. Everyone say thank you, Ryuji.

Morgana: I do not get the hate for this not-cat; he's so funny to me. He's becoming a little more aligned to the thieves' morality, which is probably for the best since at the beginning he was definitely down with accidental murder and totally open about his pragmatism. He actually encourages this in Joker. It's just funny. I love my emotional support not-cat bestie who sits in my desk at school then tells me to go strike shady deals with random people in back alleys. You can definitely see a change in Morgana though; he's becoming more excited about helping people for the sake of it (like Joker, he too has gained purpose), but he's also becoming more insecure.

Ann: She remains my favourite of the Thieves. If Ryuji is the original drive and Morgana the original method, then she is the original conviction. The strength to stand with victims. The desire to force those who hurt others to understand the feelings of said victims. She has the rawest fucking lines at the end of the Kamoshida arc. She loves Shiho so much, and I really feel like her and Joker are on the same page when it comes to things deeper than their surface level interests. Get you a friend like Ann fr. It's a shame that later scenes have her mostly just getting mad at the guys when they uhhh... act like horny guys towards her. Feels bad man, especially because I love the aspect of her character that wants to be more comfortable with her sexuality and have that be on her terms. <- That's really cool, actually! Why couldn't we do more with that...? As a note though, I seriously love her admiration towards female cartoon villains and that one mean girl model. I think that's so funny and also such a mood. I do not believe for one second that Ann is straight. I hope she becomes the sexy and confidant morally-ambiguous thief of her dreams, and also that she gets a girlfriend. It's what she deserves.

Yusuke: He's so dramatic. Do you expect me not to love him? I really loved his conflict during Madarame's arc - those revelations were absolutely brutal, and Yusuke really handled things well, all things considered. Again, like Ann, there were some raw lines in there. But then, of course, the slump on the other end, when the adrenaline wears off. That Yusuke's painting only showed the dark side of desire tells me that he is still grappling with the effects of all these reveals. He has a lot to process.

Makoto: I just think she's so cute. Her design is adorable. She's such a sweetheart. On the flip side though, while I don't find her as intimidating as the game seems to, I definitely would not want her mad at me. While, as I mentioned before, I found the lead up to her joining the thieves to be a little janky, the actual moment was great. I love that she has a support system now. She really needed that. I hope there are more scenes with her in group settings tbh. While I'm enjoying her one-on-one dynamics with Ryuji and Ann, I do feel like she doesn't really... gel with the group as well as, say, Yusuke did. I think they need to drag her out to more activities lol.

Sojiro: I still don't know yet? He seems like the tough love sort. I do enjoy getting to learn random coffee trivia from him, and it seems like he cares in a kind of gruff way. He also gets a lot of suspicious people coming by. Guess I'll find out more later.

Maruki: Again, I don't know much still. He's endearing and dorky. That salt bae thing still lives rent-free in my head. I feel his frustration with not being able to help more. I get it man. I will say though, the fact that we get to see scenes with the thieves and Maruki, with no Joker present, is... odd.

Kasumi: I... I don't know how to feel. She's too nice. She's too polite. All of her scenes are so weirdly convenient. I like her just fine, but there's something seriously off. I almost feel like she's an outlier on purpose, like she doesn't blend into the world. Unlike Maruki, who is new to Royal but blends into the story quite nicely, Kasumi really stands out, to the point it kind of feels like that was the intention. She is adorable, though, I won't deny that, and I do want her to succeed and all, I just... hm. I don't know how to feel about her.

Akechi: I could fix him (smack him upside the head). <- okay but seriously, he is so obviously suspicious, he so obviously knows about Joker, he's such a smarmy little shit. I would despise him irl, but he's absolutely the funniest character in the game right now. Everything he says has me either cackling or my jaw dropping at the fucking audacity. He's also really interesting to me. Love a character whose every line means three things rolled into one. He feels dangerous and weirdly endearing at the same time. What the hell is his problem (affectionate + derogatory).

Yoshida: YOSHIDA MY ABSOLUTE BELOVED. I love him so far. He's my favourite confidant right now. He just makes me so happy man I love him so much. Yoshida takes the hard road and he's got the conviction, but you need support from people to really turn your life around. Hey, that's kind of what the game is about, yeah?

Takemi: Oh I love her confidant so far. I don't know that she's one of my favourites, character-wise, but I was especially taken with her dedication to that medicine, and Joker's response to her saying that she doesn't suit everyone coming to her for medical help by countering her with an "it suits you". Very sweet. I'm getting close to finishing her confidant; I just need to level up charm.

Mishima: I'm almost done his confidant too! I actually enjoy Mishima's character. I feel like his downward spiral made a lot of sense, and I like that he's both helpful and made me feel a bit uncomfortable. I especially like that he's pulling himself out of that fame mentality by himself, without his heart being changed. We just gave his shadow something to think on.

Kawakami: Idk how I feel about this, but the perks are good. I'm curious about her though.

Sae: She seems dedicated to her job. Forming a confidant with her during the interrogation was something I did not expect and had me going "ohohoho". But man, some of the stuff she says to Makoto is way out of line... I'm glad she's at least aware as soon as it leaves her mouth, and I cannot imagine the constant stress and scrutiny she's under but... still. Girl. :/

Iwai: I'm going to properly start his confidant soon. He's cool. I feel like he's not nearly as scary as he makes himself out to be.

Ohya: Don't know much about her so far, but she's a disaster, and I will always enjoy a good disaster woman.

Lala: SHE'S PERFECT. I wish there was a mechanic where you could get advice from Lala-chan. She's looking out for everybody. She's good. :)

Chihaya: She told me I'm gonna die... :(

[pinkkop]

Day 57 - 15 Days BL Challenge (part 4)

Day 57 - Female/non-binary identifying actor you want to see more of in BL or GL

This list seems to have become a mix of my favourite female characters, and actors that I don't want to randomly meet and it's not super surprising 😅 Also I do feel like these actors tell you a lot about me and maybe even more than I realized when writing this list. Like @negrowhat said, I do seem to have a type 🤭

Ji Oh - Yu Na in Semantic Error

It's not often we get actor repeats in Korean, maybe because of the smaller volume of BLs being produced, but either way I want more of Ji Oh. She recently had a side character in Jeongnyeon: The Star is Born in which she definitely proved how talented she is, so pretty please, give me more of her in QLs.

Zorzo - Tiffy in Lovely Writer and Rose in Jack & Joker

I think this might be connected to Tiffy being one of my favourite characters 🫣 She's just really great and I really like what she brings to characters.

Lingling - Fahlada in The Secret of Us and Tawan in Only You (upcoming)

She's gorgeous and super talented and I can't wait for Only You!!

Silvy - The Warp Effect and in Laws of Attraction

Both Silvy herself and her characters are so unapologetically queer and I just love that! She's an amazing actor and singer and she adds some much need colour and nuance to the rainbow we see in QLs.

The original challenge is here, part two here, part three here, and four here.

[cut-the-camera]

New Project! - Heat Above

Bojan Cvjeticanin x Male!OC Story

Hi! I wrote this because i was reading a lot of other stories like this that i really liked so i wanted to make something of a similar nature for a more male audience because a lot of them tended to be more female focused but if it makes anyone involved uncomfortable then it will be removed. This is really one of my first big published stories like this so please be patient with me! This story is also posted on Wattpad under the name 'Far Too Young To Die' and account Shakespearean_Prince! (there are a few minor differences between this version and that one mostly because that one is rather old now and I'm really indecisive when it comes to key details lol) Thanks for reading and if you have any comments or recommendations then please let me know!

WATTPAD VERSION

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INTRODUCTION

Kitt Connor as Jack Ledgister

British Eurovision Representative 2023

Wolverhampton, England

3rd September 1998 (Aged 24)

@Jack_DLedgister

Sebastian Croft as Felix Weshoven

Jack's Best Friend and Photographer

Manchester, England

30th September 1998

@Felixweshovenn

Bojan Cvjeticanin as Himself

Lead Singer of Joker Out

ljubljana, Slovenia

6 January 1999

@bojan_cvjeticanin

Other (Original) Characters Mentioned: (AKA refer to this chart when you're reading and you're like 'wait who tf is this')

Dan McAdams: Jack's other friend and ex boyfriend

Rufus Huntley: Jack's childhood friend

Imogen Howe: Jack's other friend

Charlotte Ledgister: Jack's older sister

Estella Ledgister: Jack's younger sister

Harper Davies: Jack's Ex girlfriend

INFORMATION AND OTHER CONTENT

CHAPTERS

Chapter One: United Kingdom

Chapter Two: Pretty Boy?

Chapter Three: Flattalks: Eurovision

Chapter Four: The Message

Chapter Five: Sorry...