In the beginning, she shoots a man standing in a doorway as a security guard from across the street. The bullet goes straight through his back and out his chest and miraculously he’s still managing to breathe even with all that blood sputtering out of his mouth when they make it inside. She starts to cry right then and there, a drab swirl of black and white greasepaint running down her neck while the man desperately clutches at her booted ankle. He grabs her face in his hand, tears her eyes away from the spit-sputtering mess on the floor and makes her look at him instead.

‘We only cry on the in-side, pumkin. Even the harlequins.’ He releases her face from his iron grip and she stumbles backwards. Her heel skids through the blood oozing from generic rent-a-cop number one and she plummets to the floor, her face landing inches from her victim’s.

That night, she sits on the roof and doesn’t sleep.

He doesn’t hear her cry though, either.



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Ok, that ^...was from something I've been writing for months now and frankly, it's not even that long. I entertain myself with the idea of writing fanfiction for JHQ but I don't know if I ever will (aside from this blurb of course)

The reason I posted that was because it was all I could think about when I was doing this picture. It's all very tragic for Miss Quinn and I wanted to demonstrate that through a manipulation of what she was to what she is.

The idea that Quinn had brown hair as a doctor is a nod at the jokerblogs who I can't WAIT to see what their Harleen actually turns out to look like.

Anyway, not much else to say except enjoy?

*oh, and the fic is in the Joker's pov if you couldn't tell. The writing is cold and unfeeling to add more to a Joker-esque perspective which was fun to do as I'm used to being a romantic and writing with a lot more feeling.