#(idk how to word it bc it’s basically Gen Z but only the ones who are too young to have fully developed frontal lobes)

[neonnoir-ao3]

…would you guys think of me as cringey if I started talking about romancing, fucking, and/or general content regarding the Allied Mastercomputer from I Have No Mouth And I Must Scream? pls be honest

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

hi I'm back again. Anyways; as always you don't have to answer if you don't wish! How do you think the residents would react to a young Pureblood MC? (I'm talking about young like a minor.) With that Gen Z in a nutshell personality. Obviously no romantic feelings, just in your opinion how do you think they'd react? all of my questions are just "coincidentally" oddly specific aren't they, totally

Oh shit whaddup I love the idea of Gen Z MC!!! Young pureblood it is, here we go! I’m going to be moving from the assumption that they’re like Comte/Leo; very sympathetic to humanity and sometimes have existential crises (trauma babeyyyyyyyyy). As such, I’ll also be assuming she’s not super close to her family given she rejects the larger vampiric hierarchy/superiority paradigm, memes and modernity, all that jazz

I hope this fits the bill! c:

Under a cut bc is a lonnnnnnng boi~ Click after Napo to see everyone else’s! No explicit triggers that I’m aware of, but if anybody sees anything I missed feel free to let me know

Comte’s reaction:

Absolute baby, he has decided this is his grandchild--no he will not change his mind or take constructive criticism. Get’s ESPECIALLY concerned when he starts to see signs of that “nothing in life matters 😎” nihilism, but doesn’t pester them about it or becomes naggy. Growing up he had similar issues with the prospect of eternal life surrounded by creatures with a mortal lifespan, so he doesn’t judge. He’s more like nah we all hit that vibe, let’s see if we can get their mind off it c: I feel like Gen Z really understand and appreciate the importance of culture and art, so I feel like they would bond a ton over trips to museums/plays/concerts! Invites them to tea time if he ever sees them particularly silent (ah yes, repression) or particularly tired, and does his best to ensure their safety without being intrusive (has briefed the men to escort/accompany her as needed, though Sebas usually does it).

If he sees fangs out around baby he will thrash the shit out of the perpetrator--unless it’s an accident. No excuses. That’s a child. Doesn’t give a FUCK if they’re another pureblood even with all the arranged marriage bullshit. He said what he said. (Remember that biting between vampires or vampire + human relations is considered something that’s only done between intimate partners, so he is having none of that for a minor)

Leonardo’s reaction:

Also certified granddad, but he’s the one that enables shenanigans and is just like “oh worm” when it comes to the existential dread (it’s a Tuesday). At first though Leo is basically that meme like: (Stupidman = Leo, Maddie = MC)

Not all purebloods are necessarily dangerous, but most are either incredibly indifferent to the plight of others (especially humans) or actively range from like playing social mind games to being sociopathic murderers/etc. the list goes on. As such, Leonardo is suspicious to no end until he sees that the kid really doesn’t have any ill will in her. She jokes with Sebas (they quote vines on the daily) and works with him normally; even when Leo asks Sebas he’s just “????? bro she’s just my kouhai, thanks for worrying tho”. One day he’s tasked with escorting her to grab groceries and assorted things for the mansion, and she freezes in place before bolting across the street. Turns out she saw a kid trip in the road and fall, and a carriage was moving fast from the other side--it likely wasn’t going to be able to stop. She scoops up the kid and holds them close, and when the parents try to thank her profusely she just seems more uncomfortable with the praise than triumphant. She didn’t want the kid to get hurt. If she could do something about it, it was as simple as that.

From that point on they’re hella chill and hang out together, usually just bonding in silence. If they’re an artist, he’ll offer them pointers and technique manuals--will help however he can. If not, they’ll just be reading together in the library now and again. If she falls asleep, he’ll tuck her in and watch over her (cue red eye meme when the door opens, but then it’s just Vincent so he c:). He’ll often pay close attention to her eating habits to make sure nothing’s amiss with her health since she’s still a growing pureblood. If she struggles with what she is a lot (given she’s sympathetic to human beings) he’ll synchronize his Rouge drinking with hers to make sure she doesn’t starve herself ;-;. Even if she’s just forgetful about drinking/eating, he’ll do what he can to make her life easier (that’s how he shows his affection uwu)

He will, of course, also tease her about being a baby until she kicks him in the shin while Comte sighs and tells him to knock it off with a smack upside the head

Napoleon’s reaction:

Not granddad energy, but you better believe he’s in a weird territory between sheer admiration and “I am your older brother now, eat your vegetables” “But I don’t even need vegetables” “Eat your vegetables and I’ll take you to a crepe shop” “............deal” 

Basically it’s unlikely MC is super close to her siblings or even has any (pureblood children are a rare feat) so she’s like......wary, but then she just ???? this is.....kinda nice? Just having somebody that cares in a chill way, but still fully encourages her to throw men across the street if they’re hurting women/children (high fives her every time). He’ll often invite her to the swordplay lessons with the kids alongside Isaac’s teaching; she’s free to join in the learning, or honestly just hang out with people closer to her age (he’s v concerned about her having friends that she can relate to and talk to freely). 

Protective in a subtle way, like Leonardo. Escorts her places and helps her carry groceries without fail when Sebas is running other errands. She becomes his crepe shop cover buddy whenever he has an intense hankering for sweets: “wanna go to that crepe shop around the corner” “you’re just too chicken to go alone, fool” “do you want crepes or not nunuche” “............BOKBOKBOK” “aight that’s it **gives her a noogie**” (they go anyway and have a marvelous time rating the crepes from best to worst, they got a whole list goin’) 

Glares Arthur down if he so much as LOOKS in her direction

Mozart’s reaction:

Mozart is just the “what is with this sassy, lost child?” meme. Doesn’t dislike them, but they are just not remotely threatened by his haughty disdain by any extension. And he HATES IT. The MC is always just “Okay, boomer” and he just ?????? He doesn’t know what it means but it’s openly dismissive, so he mad.

Like idk if y’all know this meme, but it’s the same energy as:

It’s only when he notices she’s always punctual and careful with his requests that he starts to warm up. For example, she makes him a mocha by combining the way he likes his coffee and hot cocoa to perfection when he falls asleep at his piano. (She feels bad for him after Comte explains because--though he’s got a stick up his butt--he’s clearly distressed in his new surroundings ;-; Plus, the kind of perfectionism Mozart exudes is an extension of internalized shame, and when she begins to see that she really shifts her approach.) As such, he begins to soften to her presence. He begins to see that she isn’t indifferent to his existence, it’s more that she sees no need for intimidation and believes admiration is earned (basic respect isn’t a privilege, it’s a right). When he figures that out, he stops being so barbed and terse--starts to relax. Offers to let her stay and listen to his pieces if she wants, and she’s honestly touched given his clear struggle with vulnerability. Cuddles with Schelm at the window as he plays, and they become good friends. 

As a result, Mozart becomes fiercely protective despite her sturdier nature as a pureblood and has hissed venom at Arthur about the fact that she is off fucking limits. Doesn’t leave her alone in the same room as the other men unless it’s with Jeanne or Comte; he don’t trust like that.

Arthur’s reaction:

Sweating a lot at the sudden collection of baleful eyes sticking to his back everywhere he goes, but figures he brought it on himself to an extent. That being said, he can’t really get a word in edgewise given she just walks away when he tries to engage in conversation or compliment her.

Tough nut to crack this one, but he doesn’t let it discourage him. The only way she’ll give him the time of day is to play chess--and she kicks his ass soundly every single time. He’s fascinated by her extensive analytic ability, but she keeps silent about her strategies and thinking. Dazai and Theo always love to watch him get his ass handed to him, but he considers it a really interesting experience; it gives him insight into her mind, no matter how much she tries to hide. Patient, efficient, brutal--this kid has seen some shit, probably.

It’s after that point he just concedes she probably won’t let him in, though it doesn’t diminish his curiosity about the future; and perhaps traces of dread. What does the future look like for both her and Sebastian to be that stoic and aloof? It worries him...

Vincent’s reaction:

Vincent is v v impressed by her sense of self, and honestly sees a lot of Theo in her. She’s a little more reticent than Theo, but she has this same commitment to protecting the vulnerable and penetrating through the lies/shitty convictions of others. She is not a person who bends easily, but even so there’s a quiet kind of gentleness to her: she always chats to him v calmly, asks if he needs anything and is doing okay, doesn’t get impatient when he drops things or forgets his apron for the laundry. I think he would respond very positively to her presence, even if it wasn’t intentional. He just brightens up like a little sun and asks her out to picnics for fun; he has no greater intention than enjoying her smile and silly antics (he doesn’t always understand the references, but the way she executes it with so much dry wit--like Theo--makes him laugh). He just feels the warmth of family/familiarity around her ;~;

Ironically, they’re both exceedingly concerned for the other because they’re too self-sacrificing jkashlgdks like this is 100% a case of “I can’t let a young lady risk getting hurt” “Vincent I’m literally indestructible please just let me do this” “But it still hurts” “But I don’t want you to scar--” (This conversation extends so long that the author felt it would be more beneficial to add an etc. here). 

He admires her and trusts in her abilities more due to the nature of her maturity, treats her like a cherished friend and sometimes younger sibling (not condescending but very indulgent; gives her the last of his sweets for example, or pats her on the head when she’s feeling gloomy--more of a wholesome puts her first). But make no mistake, he will throw hands in milliseconds if she gets ganged up on or can’t handle a threat--he just lets her handle most things bc she’s capable~

Isaac’s reaction:

Torn. Because on the one hand, she’s very serious and conscientious about her work--doesn’t want to inconvenience or trouble anyone--and he relates to that heavy.

HOWEVER.

She’s also got insanely chaotic energy when the mood strikes, so when Dazai starts doing his random shitfuckery you better believe MC is upping the ante. (I’m talking AH. ENSLAVED MOISTURE. levels). So Isaac essentially oscillates between thankful for her fortitude to bashing his head against a table for every second he knows her.

In all seriousness though, I would see Isaac as being pretty concerned. Like Vincent, they’re both self-sacrificing to a fault--and he doesn’t want that for her, especially given how young she is. Often tells her not to overdo it or to ask for help if she looks overwhelmed, though it’s not condemning; he says it softly with a neutral look on his face. (He considers it a Certified Mood^TM). He just wants to give back all the care she puts into helping around the house. He doesn’t feel right watching a kid work so hard without reminding her that she should find time to have fun and live for herself too. There will be plenty of time when she’s older to get serious.

He has a fairly easy time interacting with her because of his experience with kids; he takes her seriously (when she’s not clowning) and treats her autonomy with respect. If anything, she’s probably the protective one. She knows he’s an aberrant so she pays laser attention to when he’s suffering and brings him Rouge (not scared because she’s stronger than him and not human lmao, and she sees no need to put Sebastian at risk). When that uni pres pesters him, she goes cold and angry and asks the man to step off when she sees him start to downspiral. They’re essentially on equal footing (he has more life experience, she has more bodily strength/confidence). They're just chill and kind with each other (babies of the mansion, beloved by all).

Theodorus' reaction:

Because he is a manchild, he will be chill/generally indifferent until Vincent starts being indulgent with her (bro-con). He won't be violent or anything like that, but he will pout a storm and try to verbally shoo her away. Because she's a woman, intelligent, and likely a feminist--this will become hilarious because she will not remotely take him seriously. She will just ignore him or roast him in seconds before moving on with her day. Otherwise he doesn't care much because he doesn't have time to play babysitter (unless there's no one else to help).

At the most, he'll make sure she's safe and use the excuse that Vincent would be upset if he did anything less. If she likes/loves dogs and plays with King while she's there, he'll soften up and thank her for taking care of him. If she makes hella pancakes, he'll be the proudest about it--ruffling her hair. If she protects Vincent in any capacity, he'll be torn between jealous, grateful and impressed; he likes a kid that can hold their own and take responsibility within their abilities.

So their relationship is v much like a chill uncle with their niece; fond, but not necessarily super close or spend a ton of time together. He has his priorities, but he won't be an asshat (mostly).

Jeanne's reaction:

Jeanne is confused on so many levels. He doesn't dislike her spunk he's just staggered by her level of sheer reckless, righteous rage. (And he's a bit wary in the face of another pureblood as a potential enemy) but after a bit more time around her he relaxes. She's fairly simple to understand when you get to know her; cares about others to a fault, existential dread, overworks herself. Stays watchful, but he just treats her like the younger kids that Napoleon brings by the weapons shop when they need armor for practice. It can get a little funny because he’ll just be like “uhhhh uh kids like sweet stuff right? Here have some of the macaroons somebody brought by earlier, I don’t like ‘em that much anyway.” And she just “??? Thanks???” He doesn’t mind being around her, just doesn’t really know what to say so they often fall into comfortable silence after exchanging small talk. She likes that he isn’t complicated; what you see is what you get with Jeanne. It’s nice not to have to keep her guard up every second of the day,

When he sees her feeling particularly down, he’ll take her to that little field of white lilies behind the mansion during a full moon night. The silver light seems to make the petals emit an ethereal glow, and she makes him a flower crown in thanks. He listens kindly if she wants to talk, and if she doesn’t--that’s okay too; he’ll just give her a head pat.

Honestly he finds a lot of relief in the fact that she's a pureblood, because he feels less nervous about her being fragile or her getting fatally hurt when he’s not around. Will still be very gentle with her and protect her when she’s in proximity

Mission Status: Fucking Wholesome

Dazai’s reaction:

Big brother time? It’s big brother time!!!! He instantly makes it his subtle mission to look after her, though he’s v lowkey abt it. She takes one look at this depressed mofo climbing in through the window and just goes “aw yeah, this guy FUCKS” and they become besties at a glance. They basically make a game out of who can be the most absurd whenever they’re in the same room. Comte and Leo find it utterly hilarious, Napoleon is digging a grave for Isaac in the backyard (we all know his heart won’t be able to take it. Mozart is probably next. A moment of silence for our fallen.)

I just imagine them like that one post (@/acoolguy):

Dazai: You ever have to shake your leg because there’s a rock in it? MC: That’s your bones Dazai: Every day I learn some more

He’ll always share treats with her and brings her along for walks if she’s feeling wanderlust; he knows how hard it can be, how restless the heart becomes so far from home. He does his best to distract her with their ongoing jokes, but one day it starts raining very suddenly while they’re out. He rushes her under the nearest tree with broad, broad leaves and settles his haori/overcoat over her head. He looks incredibly serious as he looks to the sky--almost glowering at the dark clouds gathering, He doesn’t look at all like his usual fun-loving self in that split second, even though he’s back to his good-natured chirping “Guess we’ll just have to wait out the downpour. MC, are you cold? I should have been more careful.” She shakes her head and shares the coat with him, holding it out insistently until he relents. Their hands brush and she notices they’re freezing, but she doesn’t say anything. She seems to sense he has a lot on his mind, and leans her shoulder against his. The silence feels fragile; she doesn’t want to risk shattering it--shattering him. It is often said that it is an act of great courage to wipe away someone’s tears. But it can also be an act of great gentleness to turn away, to pretend one cannot see them fall (whether visible or not).

One day, after MC returns to her own time, Dazai returns to his room to find two shadows hanging from his window. Though a little crude--they’ve obviously been made by a beginner--it’s clear what they are. Rain ghosts. (Sebastian later explains it was MC’s wish that he have them, and Dazai only smiles very, very gently in response.)

Shakespeare’s reaction:

MC gets one look at him and knows something’s off. She can’t quite tell what it is, but he doesn’t feel like the rest of the family. She can sense something behind him, something lurking; but she can’t quite place it. (Comte has mentioned before that purebloods can sense each other, so I imagine MC knows right off the bat he isn’t a normal sired vampire--she just doesn’t know enough to identify exactly what it is.)

That being said, she is sus. He keeps talking like some kind of weird ass court jester/fae, and she hated his work when she had to do it for school (only enjoyed the Hamlet memes because, let’s be real, that shit is uproarious). When he tries to coax her to see Vlad with him, she says “'Sblood, do you think I am easier to be played on than a pipe? Call me what instrument you will, though you can fret me, yet you cannot play upon me.” And he just freezes in place before he starts laughing. Considers their battle of wills well-played, and warns her not to go out alone--doesn’t bother her again. Though sometimes enjoys listening to her conversations with others for good roast material. (No he is not taking notes, no this new chara is just fire and feral for no good reason--nothing to do with MC)

Sebastian’s reaction:

The l o r e, MC. Give him the forbidden pureblood lore. Will be incredibly curious and ask about what vampires are like outside of the mansion, for science of course. If he senses discomfort though his questions will die down completely--it’s not his intention to make her uncomfortable. He’s just curious! 

Despite his stoicism he’s actually a very, very understanding and warm person.  Will listen to any teenage jadedness or hopelessness with fond patience, recalling the days he was similar. He’ll offer what advice he can. He’s not one to be preachy, but if he sees someone at a loss, he’ll offer what he thinks might be a productive direction for them. Given her removal from her home and parents--even though she’s already well into high school--he’ll sympathize deeply with her position. Will be a firm but gentle guardian (hello Mansion Mom #2), offers her candy every time she does a chore exceptionally well or offers assistance without prompting. She’s sus and takes it reluctantly at first, but after she tries one in private secretly loves them. Sebas is just silently “you like krabby patties don’t you, squidward”. If she’s honest, she’s comforted by the sense of normalcy and care he gives, the harmless joking and easy respect for others (unless otherwise provoked).

When she finds out about his hobby considers him to be a Fucking Nerd^TM and wants to shove him into a locker, but in reality is endeared by how much he genuinely cares about the men. She thinks it’s a harmless fascination, and she senses the oddest...ephemerality about him. Because of this, she becomes pretty protective; he’s a human and he’s too nice for his own good. While she identifies in one sense, she worries in another. Pureblood are sturdy, but humans can’t necessarily sustain that kind of constant self-giving for long...

Also bc my tag game too strong adding it here: #i love the prospect of pureblood MC trying to bring Sebas and Napo together #MC: bruh i got this #Sebas, full of gay panic: wait, MC nO--

Meme tl;dr in the tags also for your enjoyment! I’m sorry this one took a little longer than most to finish!

[ajokeformur-ray]

Hi! ✨ idk if requests are open but if they are: joker is hurt real badly at work and his composure slips the closer he gets to the apartment. you hurry to stitch him up/calm him down but what he’s not telling you is he’s SO upset cuz he saw a woman who reminded him of you getting attacked in the street tonight + he realized he really doesn’t wanna lose you

Omgggg I’m so excited to write this one, as soon as I saw it I knew what to write! I truly believe that Joker would love you even harder than Arthur did, he’d basically be Arthur x 1000000 with you, and an event like this would hammer it all home for him. As such, I’ve done my best to not make this out of character - if I have, please let me know so I can re-write! @rebs-doom and I discussed this a little so I took inspiration from there. Please check out her blog if you have the time to, her writing is just incredible and I love her so much!!!!!

Okay so TW; blood mentions, injured!Joker, reader stitches him up, angst (but also fluff bc I refuse to hurt our boi), Joker dissociates, pain induced confessions which aren’t actually confessions because he doesn’t say anything? That sounded weird but if you read it you’ll know what I’m talking about. Also swearing, obviously. And I have no medical knowledge whatsoever but I don’t care. So please forgive any inaccuracies!

Arthur Fleck/Joker:  @writings-of-a-gen-z @x-avantgarde-x @mapreza1 @insomniabird @mavalenovaninagavi @itwasrealenough @morrisonmercurymalek  @rand0ms-fand0ms @rafaelina-casillas @aclownthing @rebs-doom @vivft @help-i-am-obssessed @autumnaffection @taintednihilist @vladtoly @mg-woolf99 @misstgrey92 @that-s-life @dopey-girl-blogs @seeking-dreamland @sweetheart-syndrome @heartxfdesire @xmusichealsthesoulx @0callmejude0 @the-one-that-likes-riddles @hannibalsslut @folliaght @freeeshavacadoo @bingewatchingmylifegoby @unlovedbyeveryoneandeverything @okamiredfoxx @sp0okysp0oky @the-pandorabox

Word count: 2, 718

Your relaxed plans for the evening were immediately cancelled when Joker almost fell through the front door. He slammed it shut, and you stood up in a panic. There were riots all over the news, talks of gunshots from unknown locations, talks of people getting beaten up and trampled over, the city was on fire yet again and you wondered how long it would be before Joker was able to get proper control over his newfound calling in life.

Your eyes roamed over his form and your heart stopped dead when you saw that, even with his makeup flaking and his skin coming through, he was pale. He was as white as a sheet and clutching his arm. There was blood splattered all over his once yellow waistcoat and you were grateful in that moment that his suit was mostly red; it would make hiding the stains so much easier. You could see straight away that most of the blood on him was his.

You fought back the sudden intense wave of nausea and hurried over to Joker, wrapping a guiding arm around him and leading him over to the sofa. You sat him down gently, quietly, and watched him for just a second. He wasn’t looking at you. No, he was looking through you. His eyes were glazed over with pain, emotionally and physically, his skin still had that ghostly pale pallor, and he was shaking like a leaf. His bottom lip was trembling and you could see how hard he was fighting himself. What the actual fuck had happened to him? Gone was the confident Joker you were used to. In his place was Arthur Fleck, and it broke your heart to see him in so much pain.

Hurriedly did you gather all the supplies from the bathroom that you would need. You didn’t know yet what kind of an injury he had obtained on his arm, but based on his physical signs of his distress and all that blood, it was bad. Knowing from experience that when Joker dissociated, you weren’t even going to be able to ask him to move or to help you, you tenderly removed his jacket, wincing to yourself when his facial expression showed no change but his eyes, oh his eyes were overflowed with tears, which steadily dripped down his face, removing the makeup which stubbornly clung to his skin. He looked a complete mess. Even his vibrant green hair was deflated and sticking to his skin, which had a light sheen of sweat on it. You had never seen him like this and you found yourself wishing that this was all just a nightmare. A really real nightmare you couldn’t wake up from. You forced yourself to concentrate, to think. Now wasn’t the time for you to tap out of reality, either.

As his jacket slid off his body, the rich material getting stuck to the place where the blood was the worst, you gasped in horror. He had been grazed by a bullet or something similar, and the wound was leaking blood at an alarming rate. Could someone bleed out from an arm injury? You thought so, but you weren’t entirely sure. You had no medical knowledge at all beyond the most basic first aid. Quickly did you check the sight for any bullet. Nothing. It was a clean wound in that respect, at least. Still, it would leave a massive scar. Joker had always cared little for how his body looked and though his mind was riddled with scars which had never properly healed, his body was, at least on the surface, completely unblemished at the present time. He hadn’t taken a beating in months, for which you were immensely grateful. You had been happy when he had finally decided to start standing up for himself.

Your first priority was to clean the wound, and then you could bandage it. After that, you could focus on your true problem: getting Joker out of his own head and back with you. You had pulled him out of dissociation numerous times with some difficulty, but you had never seen him this bad, even when he was Arthur. Something had scared him, really scared him, and for Joker that was unprecedented; so laid back he was almost horizontal was he. While you worked, you spoke to him. You kept your voice low and calm, your tone as soothing as you could despite how much you wanted to break down and cry. You stroked his damp, matted hair, kissed his forehead, and you kept talking to him. You made him as aware as you could that you were there with him, that you were real, and that you were taking good care of him. He was safe with you.

When at last his wound was clean and bandaged, and you had cleared away the towels and the flannel you had used, and everything looked like before he had come home, you worked on undressing him. Joker would need to be as comfortable as possible in his body, even with the amount of pain he was in, before you could draw him out of himself. If he came to with something still remaining of the evening’s events, he would stay inside his own head. It was a delicate procedure and you didn’t even know if you were doing any of this right, but you had to try. You just had to try. Joker would appreciate your efforts more than anything else.

You left him shirtless but pulled up those electric blue trousers that were almost comically baggy up his legs. You brushed his hair gently and kept kissing parts of his face, his neck. You washed his face with a flannel using hot soapy water. You were so, so gentle and so tender and you were still feeling beside yourself with how his tears kept flowing, his bottom lip kept trembling, and still he didn’t talk. He only blinked occasionally and kept breathing at a regular rate. His heart rate was fine, too. Physically, Joker would heal.

Mentally?

You had to find out what had happened first. The question was - how? With patience and persistence, was the whispered answer. You shoved it away.

You sat beside him on the sofa, your entire body turned towards him. You were watching his every move, his every breath. You were waiting for a chance to get him back home to you.

You waited for maybe another half an hour before Joker blinked once, twice, three times, four and - a deep breath which moved his entire body. There he was. At last. Tears began to pour faster down his face and you leaned forward and kissed his forehead, holding your lips there as you just breathed him in. You were so heavily relieved that your heart was pounding.

A broken sob. You pulled away from him and pressed your lips together to keep yourself from crying. It didn’t work. Your tears mingled with his as they rained down upon his lap, so close together were you and he.

“Arthur?” You smiled gently at him, your eyes holding his. You only ever called him that when you needed to comfort him, when it was imperative that he knew how safe he was. You saved it for the occasions in which you needed his true name, and as such the effect was almost immediate as the familiar name sunk deep inside his ears, touching his brain gently. You followed his gaze every time he looked away from you, and he blinked again. A slow, careful hand came up and into the air as he reached towards you. You stayed so still, refusing to even breathe, and as his hand touched your face, he gasped lightly and wrenched his hand back.

“Y- Y/N. Are you real?”

You smiled, crying just as hard as he was. “Yes. I’m here, darling. I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”

Joker bowed his head and leaned forward so that he could rest his forehead against your shoulder. He cried noisily, like a small child, and you wrapped your arms around him and just held him. You held him tightly, rubbing his back, kissing the top of his head, your stomach and mind sick with worry as that familiar question kept circling around and around in your head like a destructive hurricane:

What the fuck happened tonight?

Slowly did a hand leave Joker’s lap and come up to touch your face. He was checking to see if you were real and it only added to your distress. You didn’t know how much more you could take of this tonight, so mentally taxed were you. His hand followed the curve of your cheek and you pressed a kiss to your palm. His bloodshot green eyes met yours and your heart shattered all over again when tears continued to fall. That question was still in your head, and now it was on the very tip of your tongue. You couldn’t speak. The answer to your very significant question was written all over his face. It was in his eyes and all at once the horrifying truth slammed into you like a truck. It left you breathless and now your fear was his fear. You had always suffered together as a couple, and just because he was Joker now, that didn’t make it any less true. You felt each other’s emotions like they were your own.

You saw the blood on his clothes, which were now in the bath soaking in cold water. You saw the haunted expression on his face when he had crashed through the door. You felt the way he was still gripping you to him, even now, like he was protecting you from an invisible danger. Pieces of the devastating puzzle all clicked into place and at last, at last, you understood.

Someone who looked like you had been attacked tonight. Joker had seen it and it had distracted him in his overwhelming fear, which had resulted in his injury. His physical injury, a bullet graze, was nothing compared to the eternal mental anguish if he were to ever lose you. Only then, should such a thing ever happen, would Arthur Fleck truly go off the rails.

If such a thing were possible, your every emotion in this moment increased. The room became so much brighter, poorly illuminated though it was with lamps which desperately needed a bulb change but you couldn’t afford it right now, your heart began to roar through your head as though your blood was singing its way around your body, your grip around Joker and his around you grew tighter, until it felt as though you would become one physical body. Everything became clearer, more succinct. Mental clarity came to you and you saw Arthur Fleck. Just like you always had and you always would. Gotham had forgotten about him, it had cruelly abandoned him to a life of abuse of the worst kinds, given him back to his abusive mother and more, but you had never thought him invisible or unimportant. No. Since the day you had met had Arthur been a prominent figure in your life. That would never change.

Joker had found his own truth this night. He had always known just how deeply his love ran for you. He had always known how devoted and loyal he was to you, how much you meant to him and how much he didn’t want to lose you. But now, tonight, when he had seen someone who looked just like you getting violently attacked and lost in the crowd, he had come to know his truth. It had shocked him right down to his core, which was still kind and good and soft, and it had made him retreat inside his own damaged mind; his perceived reality was once more scarier than the infamous and familiar demons in his own head.

He was so fucking terrified of losing you that the mere thought of it had sent him spiralling into a dissociative state that you nearly hadn’t been able to pull him out of. A tsunami of love crashed over you, drowning your shores, and you were lost as your grip on what you had thought to be real faltered. You were the luckiest person on the entire fucking planet and you knew it.

Joker’s palm was still on your cheek, warming you from the outside. He still felt hazy, like he was watching himself through a television screen, but he was coherent enough to be able to see the exact moment you figured him out. His mind was so complex even he didn’t understand it, never mind the supposed professionals he had always been made to see (and a fat lot of good they were) but you had taken the time to try, and you had come to see him. You always did, in the end, no matter how long it took. Your innate understanding of Arthur had always meant the absolute world to him, and he had always made the effort to use his own intuition to see you just as clearly. It was one of your many strengths as a couple. Your continued joint willingness to try was one of your favourite things about your relationship. Anything could happen when you just tried.

Slowly did he lean in to press his lips to yours. Bare faced, his hair slicked back and his eyes shining with a galaxy that, even with its immeasurable size couldn’t quite quantify his love for you, he looked like Arthur. He was Arthur and sometimes you had to take care to remind yourself of the fact that no matter what, Arthur was still himself at his core. He hadn’t changed his truest, most genuine self. He had only grown into it, succumbed to it. You kissed him gently, trying to comfort him without words. Touch was the best way to affirm that you weren’t a delusion, that you were real and he was real and that you were in love and together.

“I was so scared,” He whispered against your lips, tears running anew down both of your faces. “I had to come home as quickly as I could just to see. If I lost you, I’d die - “ His hands, shaking, cupped your face as he fought with himself for control. You were both fine. His injury would heal and in the morning this would all seem like a bad dream, but in the moment he could only let himself feel with the liberation that Joker embodied. 

He was exhausted and you could see it. With steady motions did you stand up, taking Joker with you. You didn’t let your skin leave his for even a second. You took him to the bedroom and the two of you got comfortable in the bed. The mattress protested, the springs creaked and bounced back into place as you moved, but for once your economical situation didn’t even occur to you. You didn’t give a flying fuck about anything but Joker right now. He laid facing you, his legs tucked up so he was in the foetal position. His arms were wrapped around your waist and his face was buried in your stomach as he allowed himself to cry it all out. Crying really did make people feel better. It restored the chemicals in the brain which were unbalanced. It left people tired, though, and you were really tired too, so taking him to bed had been your only option. You weren’t physically strong enough to move him to the bed if he fell asleep on you.

You held him, there was nothing you could do or say to assuage his very real and palpable fear that either of you could one day lose the other from a reason entirely out of your control, and pressed kisses to whichever parts of him you could reach. You remained quiet, letting him express himself, and when he was finally done sobbing, you wiped his tears away and kissed him as tenderly as you could, biting back your own emotions as you had been since he had come home.

Only when Joker was definitely asleep did you allow yourself the luxury of crying. 

I’m actually crying now. Someone send help.

EDIT: PART TWO