#Joker does say 'I love you' in Broken City but then he says 'I hate your guts so badly' in Cacophony | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

blackkatmagic · 4 years ago

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In labyrinths of reflections?! So excited!

I would love to see a drabble of Harley and Ivy reunion after Marc helps Ivy out of prison. ^^

There's ice cream melting over her fingers, a buzz of green in her veins, and a darkened shack in the middle of the park that’s filled with the sound of hitched breaths.

Ivy tightens her grip on the Arkham-standard prison clothes, takes a breath. The trees around her bend inwards, shivering, and she has to close her eyes against the surge of hope and relief and vicious glee that’s beating like a tattoo in her chest.

The Joker is dead. The Joker is dead. He’s dead and gone and an old god ate his heart, so it’s safe to say that he’s never coming back.

Just for that, she would walk barefoot over broken glass and take a swim in weed killer, the moment Moon Knight asked her to.

Harley is crying, and Ivy should likely feel worse, should mourn the pain if not the man. But she doesn’t, she can't. Harley is free of him, Gotham is free of him, and it’s a fierce, bloody, vicious joy in Ivy’s chest, the knowledge that he died and suffered. Not just for what he did to Harley, but—

That doesn’t matter. He’s dead, because Moon Knight killed him. Moon Knight is like her, like them, mentally ill but forged into a weapon, functionality and purpose and intent, and he killed the Joker. Harley is free because of Moon Knight.

A muffled, trembling sound, and Ivy pushes forward, through the darkened doorway hung with wilted vines and into the moon-striped interior.

There's no movement, no sign she’s been seen. Harley is curled in the corner where Ivy’s bed is half-collapsed and covered in the wild tangle of her citrus trees run rampant, face tucked into her drawn-up knees, her hair down. She’s in loose clothes, Ivy’s baggiest sleeping clothes huge on her small frame, and she’s not audibly crying, but she might as well be.

Silently, Ivy sets both cartons of half-melted ice cream down on the floor, then crosses the small shack and pulls herself up onto the listing mattress. Without pause, she leans in, wraps her arms around Harley as tightly as she can and just—breathes. Lets her hair hide them from the world, just for a moment.

“Hey, sweetheart,” she whispers, and Harley’s breath catches on a sob. She grabs, hauls Ivy in and wraps her arms around her, and Ivy kisses her forehead, her cheek, the corner of her eye as Harley buries her face in her shoulder.

“Red,” she gets out, and the word cracks. “Red, Mr. J is dead. Someone killed him. I'm—I'm so relieved but I'm so sad, an’ I can't stop crying.”

Ivy never attacked the Joker, never confronted him. It would have made Harley angry, would have upset her, and Ivy could never risk losing her. Could never risk pushing her back to the Joker permanently, shutting down her one avenue of escape. She’d wanted to a thousand times, had thought about arranging accidents, or slipping him some poison, but—Harley is clever, and Ivy isn't a good enough actor to fool her. Harley would have realized what she’d done, and maybe the Joker would have been dead, but Ivy would have lost the one person she gives a damn about in the whole world. The trade-off was never worth it.

“I'm not sorry,” she whispers, not about to hide the truth. Harley already knows how she feels, anyway. “I'm glad. Him being dead makes me happy.”

Harley chokes on a sob, fingers bruising against Ivy’s skin, but she doesn’t pull away. Ivy doesn’t try to move, either, just leans in with a sigh, stroking Harley’s limp hair. “Moon Knight broke me out of Arkham,” she says quietly, and Harley stills, frozen, conflicted. There's a long pause, and then a watery breath, and Harley lifts her head.

“’S good,” she says, wiping at her eyes with the heel of one hand. “I know—I know how much you hate bein’ away from the sun, Red. I was gonna try to break you out, but the Bats were keepin’ an eye on me, an’ then Mr. J—”

“I know,” Ivy says, and shifts sideways, pulling Harley down onto the sagging mattress with her. The broken frame creaks dangerously, but Harley snuggles closer, tucks Ivy’s head under her chin and hangs on the with desperation of someone drowning. Gently, Ivy strokes her back, closing her eyes and thinking of a flare of white in the darkness, glowing eyes under the dark shadows of a hood.

When she’d first seen Moon Knight in the hallway, she’d expected a henchman come to break out their master, or maybe a new mercenary hired for a hit. Had only thought about charming him, tempting him in and then using him to escape. And maybe some part of her, impossible to turn off, is still thinking about the benefits of knowing him and the advantages he can provide, but—

He’s like them. He was in an institute at thirteen, and Ivy remembers all too well the long hours sitting in a psychologist’s office when she was a child, head bowed as she listed to the man and her mother talk. Remembers six months in the hospital, alone, desperate, after Jason Woodrue experimented on her.

The incident drove her insane, the files say. Ivy knows; she’s looked them up, torn through them to see what the Bats whisper about her in the darkness, and she’s seen those words printed starkly in black enough times to be burned into her brain. The incident drove her insane, like everyone in the world is one tragedy away from becoming mentally ill. Like Ivy was just sad and angry and that alone was enough to make her unstable. Like being in Arkham will fix her, or do anything but make her angrier. None of the doctors there give a damn about the patients, about anyone, and the ones who try turn out like Harley.

Moon Knight breaking her out and talking to her like a person, looking at her like she’s real and reasonable and not either a crazed villain or a mindless sex object did more to help steady her than her whole stint in Arkham. A little bit of understanding, a touch of his strange, brusque respect, and Ivy felt like she could breathe.

He’s like them, and he does what he thinks is right, not what the laws tell him to do. He’s like them, a little broken and a little crazy and a little good.

With her eyes closed, Ivy can feel the whole of Gotham breathing, the roots beneath the city and the branches spread through it, the weeds creeping up through the cracks in the sidewalk and hundreds of thousands of stately old trees, young and verdant trees, ivy and roses and flowers carefully trimmed and confined. She can feel each step that crushes the grass, the careless cruelty of a tree cut down, the gasping breaths of plants trying to breathe through the pollution. And, if she focuses, she can find a heavy pair of boots, moving more lightly than most across the park. The brush of a white cloak, the way he feels like moonlight on the grass, how the trees bend towards his presence. Like he’s carrying fresh air with him, as clean and cool as a wind across the desert, completely untouched by the smog and rot of Gotham around him.

Moon Knight, she thinks, and smiles, thin and wicked against Harley’s skin. Tightens her arms around Harley, then shoves, rolling them over and straddling Harley, knees locked against her ribs. Harley gasps, but she reaches for Ivy, tangles her fingers in Ivy’s hair and pulls, and Ivy kisses her, kisses her, kisses her, and never wants to let her up for air.

Moon Knight gave her this. Gave them this, even if Harley will never see it as the gift it is. He killed the Joker, set her and Harley both free, and Ivy’s laugh vibrates low in her throat as she cups Harley’s face between her hands.

Like them, she thinks. Moon Knight is one of theirs, one of hers. Ivy’s never been good at limits; everything she’s ever let go of has claw marks in it, and she’s willful, wicked, doesn’t have or want a code of honor of any sort. But—

“I think,” she whispers against Harley’s lips, still smiling, “that I just found my very own knight in shining armor.”

Harley laughs, too, even if hers is a little watery. “Don’cha mean your own Knight Light?” she jokes, and Ivy snorts and kisses her again.

She’ll keep one eye on Moon Knight, whenever he appears. Batman doesn’t like their kind, and he’ll like that Moon Knight broke her out of Arkham even less. Ivy doesn’t accept anyone easily, doesn’t take to strangers, but watching Moon Knight in the park, she felt…different. Wanted something other than to walk away and leave him behind. He’s an ally and an unknown and a god on earth, and Ivy knows a little bit more about that than she should.

He’ll need them eventually. That favor Ivy owes him will be called in. And—it’s not an entirely selfless thing. A steppingstone, maybe, to draw him closer, to pull him in.

Moon Knight doesn’t realize it yet, but if he tries to leave them—leave her—behind, he’s going to have claw marks in him, too.

[On AO3]

#my writing #harlivy #dc #marvel #marc spector #harley quinn #pamela isley #Anonymous #kat answers

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jeromiah · 4 years ago

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Any twinkleska headcannons? 😍

this is so broad because i live in an entire twinleska world of @nostalgic90s ‘s creations lmaoo but here:

✦ when they’re kids, jerome is the protector. he shields jeremiah from lila’s abuse, attacks anyone who picks on him, makes sure he eats enough and sleeps ok.

✦ when they’re adults (post-spray i guess if we’re following canon, well except jerome doesn’t die), jeremiah is the protector. the guy’s got like, 2 emotions so he doesn’t really feel guilt for the lies he told about jerome over the years or abandoning him, but he does understand that jerome is way more broken than he is, more tired, more heavy-hearted, and jeremiah + emotions isn’t a functional relationship but he understands them objectively and sees how they affect his brother. so he protects him, holds him when he needs to be held, attacks the media who villainize him, lets him talk and responds adequately to his emotional cues. he makes sure jerome eats enough and sleeps ok and takes his medicine.

�� they often take trips out of gotham, i imagine to like canada or something. toronto, montreal, vancover. large, beautiful cities with architecture that makes jeremiah’s mouth water. and since they don’t really look that much alike anymore (jeremiah still wears “normal” makeup in public but without contacts, he lets his eyes and his hair be free) they’re able to hold hands in public. jerome wants to kiss jeremiah so badly in front of everyone but jeremiah doesn’t want to ruin his makeup. let’s just say that as soon as they get back to their hotel room, jeremiah’s makeup gets ruined.

✦ i have to imagine that once jerome catches jeremiah, there’s no reason for him to live underground anymore, especially if gordon knows where he lives, so together they design a house they want to live in (or, if you also love bruce wayne like i do, i also imagine them just moving in with bruce for kicks.) and construction is done lickety-split, jerome carries jeremiah over the threshold as much as he hates it. they have one enormous bed and yet jerome feels jeremiah curled right up against him every night. jeremiah designed stupid fun rooms for jerome to entertain himself with while he works, like a skydiving room and a target practice room. it’s like a funhouse, except it’s a house! wowie

✦ two boys + daddy issues = daddy kink. jerome is daddy. you can’t change my mind on this one.

✦ i think it would be really cute if jerome became jeremiah’s harley. i also love the like “two jokers in a trenchcoat” concept ofc, but i like the existing headcanon that jerome’s really good with animals because of his circus upbringing, so he loves the hyenas he gets and they don’t rip up the house. he’s also wonderfully chaotic still but jeremiah (as part of being hyper-protective) doesn’t want him wreaking havoc on his own anymore and convinces him that being his sidekick would allow him to do more chaotic damage while jeremiah carries out the real scheme, and at the end of the day they’d still be primarily after jeremiah.

:-) love my dumb clown boys

#ask #twinleska #ask to tag

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forevercloudnine · 4 years ago

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arkhamverse riddlebat ship meme

(Continuing with the questions that @heroes-etc picked out for me, this set being from this ship meme.)

3. who is more afraid about the other leaving them?

Edward, hands down. Arkhamverse Riddler is maybe the neediest take on the character I’ve ever seen. Which is saying something, because the panel from “Questions Multiply the Mystery” where he writhes around on the floor begging for attention is permanently burned into my mind. He also clearly doesn’t take rejection well, as evidenced by the graffiti in his cell shown in a promotional image for Arkham Asylum (2009). J'ai aimé, j'ai souffert, maintenant... je hais. “I loved, I suffered, now I hate.”

It didn’t make it into the game proper (too subtexty, maybe, given a general lack of non-Batman people this could be referring to), but from my perspective it might as well have, since I experienced all the games second hand by sitting on the couch next to my brother while he swore at the Riddler challenges. Anyway, if perceived rejection has you writing French poetry on your cell wall in what looks concerningly like bodily fluids, then you probably won’t deal well with the concept of actually being dumped.

5. who is more likely to drunkenly confess?

Also Edward, given that he’s calling Bruce every five minutes. And if he’s not calling Bruce directly, he’s talking ABOUT Bruce in a public broadcast to all of Gotham. Eddie is the king of freudian slips sober, so one can only imagine what he would say in vino veritas. If he does get drunk, let’s hope for his sake that he opts to communicate through his private line to Batman rather than over every screen in Gotham.

6. who is more likely to push the other away (for any reason)?

Bruce, also hands down. Arkham Knight really goes out of its way to hammer in that Batman’s callous treatment of Riddler has wreaked havoc on Edward’s psyche, even if arguably Eddie had it coming. Riddler’s mole in the GCPD talks about this:

JT Walker: It used to be funny, you know [...] And then one day, it just wasn't funny anymore. It was pathetic. He stopped taking care of himself, got that crazy look in his eyes. I swear man, he's broken. You broke him.

Bruce’s subconscious gets a dig in on this topic via Joker hallucination.

“Joker”: Good for you, Bats! Eddie doesn’t need help. No, no, no. Beat ‘em up. Lock ‘em up. That’s the best medicine.

Even my brother, who would attempt to stab Arkhamverse Edward in the face War-of-Jokes-and-Riddles style if the games let him, felt guilty on Bruce’s behalf when Eddie started ranting about his photographic memory.

Riddler: I can summon your sneering features at will. That is, when they don't burst unbidden into my brain [...] I can remember every time you've hurt me. Sometimes I wake up, Dark Knight, to the feel of your hands around my neck, your carbon fiber created fists smashing my solar plexus.

I think because of this trait, one of the only ways this ship would work in Arkhamverse is if they came to an agreement during Arkham Origins (since Edward is... more or less... a vigilante in that game, albeit one that Bruce considers distasteful), well before their relationship gets to where it is in Arkham Asylum. The other way is if Bruce actually took the lesson Arkham Knight hammered over his head and tried to fix the damage done after faking his death. (In my mind there exists a many chaptered fanfic where after Batman “disappears” he moves to the second Batcave the games put under Arkham Asylum and takes on Joker’s “Eric Border” persona from the comics to become an orderly there. Whether it’s scarebat or riddlebat varies depending on my mood, but what’s consistent no matter what is that I have five WIPs on ao3 and I can’t write it until I finish at least one of them).

7. who picks fights more often?

Obviously Arkhamverse Edward is the most irritating person who has ever lived, so he kind of wins by default. But Bruce definitely holds his own in instigating unnecessary conflict with loved ones in this continuity. I’ll cut him some slack during Arkham Knight because one could argue that he spends most of the game half-possessed by an evil clown ghost, but it’s not like he’s much better in ANY of the other games. The bit in Arkham City where he lies to Talia’s face about being willing to spend the rest of his life with her so that she’ll give him access to the Lazarus Pit — even though if he was just honest and asked for it she probably would have helped him anyway, given that she DIES protecting him in the climax — is probably the best example of how he will infuriate people who love him for no logical reason. It’s a symptom of the post traumatic hyper vigilance, probably.

So if Edward did get the closeness to Bruce that his subconsciousness seems to be gunning for, he could look forward to the physical violence and public humiliation being replaced with the same well-intentioned gaslighting and emotional manipulation Bruce gives everyone but Alfred in these games. Actually, is Alfred the only one who’s even aware that he’s alive after Arkham Knight? Bruce, please tell your kids that you aren’t a pile of ash in the crater that used to be Wayne Manor.

9. who is more likely to withhold their feelings for the other?

The obvious answer is Bruce, because he keeps his emotions locked in a lead box buried like twenty feet beneath the floor of the Batcave (probably along with a bunch of kryptonite, since Superman is flying around the Arkhamverse somewhere). But honestly Bruce doesn’t seem to have a problem getting it on with supervillains in this continuity. He and Talia chat pretty casually about a recent romantic rendezvous in Metropolis when they meet in Arkham City. His emotional distance from Selina in Arkham Knight seems less like him withholding his feelings from her, and more like him not being over Talia’s death (or Joker’s, which... the narrative certainly focuses on more than Talia’s...).

So I think Edward would actually be more likely to withhold his feelings for Bruce. Even if Bruce approached him first, he’s too obsessed with the possibility of Bruce humiliating him to take any positive interaction (especially a romantic overture) at face value.

Riddler: You left me battered and demeaned in Arkham City. I am the Riddler, Batman. I don't suffer humiliation. I pay it back.

He’s not really wrong, either. Batman does humiliate him in Arkham City (by misleading Edward into thinking he’d let him die, no less); it’s the same embarrassment Edward inflicts on his own victims, so it’s not like he doesn’t deserve it per se, but it’s definitely not Bruce taking the higher ground.

Sticking him in his own trap is pretty vindictive, and Riddler’s weird commentary about not letting Batman have bathroom breaks during his revenge trials in Arkham Knight hints that Cash and the other guards might have made his (clearly unlawful!) punishment even more humiliating than we see on screen.

Riddler: Rule the seventh. Bathroom breaks will be administered on a discretionary basis. Should we find ourselves at a pivotal moment in your arduous journey to self-realization and defeat, I expect you to hold it in. Rule the eighth. Any accidents resulting from my strict enforcement of the seventh rule are to be considered your fault entirely.

So would Edward withhold his feelings for Batman? Yeah, probably. And it would probably take a lot of time and effort for Bruce to convince Edward that any feelings on his part weren’t just an attempt to humiliate Riddler further.

#riddlebat #edward nygma #riddler #arkhamverse #ship meme #every day #every day i think about the checkmate line

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why-this-kolaveri-machi · 4 years ago

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Dick and Jason are Robins at the same time

(titans ‘verse. au after 1.06)

(tagging @superohclair and @cautiousamber!)

dick has to admit that it’s not the worst arrangement: jason continues to be robin in gotham, and dick travels across the country with his little family while running from a homicidal cult, wearing the costume every now and then when he has no choice but to fight. this way batman is covered, dick still has access to some advanced gear and weaponry now that he needs it, and internet sleuths are kept on their toes when robin shows up in different ends of the country on the same day.

so what if reading news coverage of batman and robin in gotham feels like being punched in the chest, or hearing jason’s stories about learning new things from bruce everyday makes dick want to scream into a pillow? he is fine with this.

he. is. fine--

(kory knows he’s fraying at the edges. she watches, and she says nothing.)

the fight to help rachel and defeat trigon is long and hard, and involves painstakingly unravelling kory’s memories. they manage to find her spaceship, and it becomes their base for a good long while. they stay there long enough that dick loses some of the tension that’s had him on edge for... well. the better part of the last five years, to be honest.

dick begins training rachel and gar in earnest. kory is able to coax some memories of tamaranean cuisine and culture out, and dick is reminded more and more of the team that he lost everyday. despite his best efforts he’s invested now. he cooks and dances with kory (good thing he’s so flexible because the tamaranean version of a waltz is like a particularly sadistic game of twister), teaches rachel algebra and does yoga with gar. he even manages to forget about bruce for a bit.

jason shows up quite often when he figures out where they’re based, and after some initial tension, he becomes an unofficial member of their team (though at this stage dick is still reluctant to use that word). dick and jason patrol in the nearby city some nights, then go for ice cream later. dick’s even starting to see the strategic (and frankly comedic) potential of two robins on the same patrol.

time and familiarity softens how dick perceives jason: less reckless asshole and more bright young kid full of curiosity and a need to prove himself. he continues to tend towards gratuitous violence, but dick learns his triggers and helps jason recognise them as well. he soaks up the info on alien cultures and battles on kory’s ship faster than dick himself could hope to, and there is a terrible sort of tenderness to how he talks to the people he saves while on patrol. terrible, dick thinks, because he doesn’t know if he comes across like that now at all: soft and empathetic instead of aloof and shaking, too caught up in his own neuroses.

here’s the thing, the crux of it, the faultline that’s always threatening to break dick apart: he’s so afraid that he’s taken robin, his legacy, the ideals and persona that he modelled as a tribute to his parents, and made it into something so dark and broken that only batman could pass it on. jason showing up as his replacement one day only seemed to affirm that fear. but now, swinging through the skies with this kid who’s taken robin as an opportunity to learn and grow and be better, dick’s reminded of the best of his early days in the costume.

for the first time in what feels like forever, dick feels good about putting on the robin costume again.

(are you asking if dick tried to call home? of course he did. he chickens out and cuts the call to bruce after only a few rings, and feels a sad sort of vindication in noticing how bruce never attempts to call him back.

alfred picks up his call on the second ring, and dick feels like the smallest person in the world when he hears the genuine warmth, joy and relief in alfred’s voice as he greets him. there’s no excuse for dick refusing to talk to the man that practically raised him after his parents died and he knows it.

they talk for an hours while skirting around anything to do with bruce, which is an impressive feat all in itself. they finally talk about jason, and there’s a wistful sort of fondness in alfred’s voice as he says, “you’ve been a good influence on master jason.”

dick laughs. “he’s been a good influence on me.” it’s the first time he’s said it loud, but it feels true.

“you mustn’t underestimate the ways in which you change people, master dick,” alfred says. “you have been a light in our lives for so long.”

dick’s jaw clenches. all his memories of batman smudge together in never-ending shadow; when he thinks of bruce, he can only remember that remote expression on his face, that expression dick can project all his disgust and loathing and disappointment onto. maybe people should start considering how they influence me, dick wants to say. sometimes i can’t recognise who i’m seeing in the mirror every day and other times i hate him so much i want to--

“i miss you, alf,” he says instead, softly.

“my dear boy,” alfred starts, but he sounds choked. it’s ok. dick understands.)

things get worse, quickly. their enemies find and destroy their spaceship base, and they’re not nearly ready to take on trigon yet. they’re on the run again, alternating between motel rooms and empty warehouses.

the cult finally catches up to them; they are kidnapped and tortured for days in an abandoned asylum. they eventually escape, the building and the organisation in flames behind them, but the scars from the experience are deep: rachel is anxious and tearful almost all the time, gar’s usual cheer is replaced by a quiet, simmering self-loathing, kory refuses to talk about her experience but flinches at every touch, and dick... he feels like he’s been flayed, his mind and body laid raw and bleeding until nothing recognisable, nothing human is left. he can’t think, he can barely feel. half the time it feels like he’s observing what’s happening to him like it’s happening to somebody else entirely.

they’re a mess. he can’t do this, not when he feels like--like this. he resists calling anybody for help, but one night he breaks down and calls donna. he doesn’t remember what he says on the call, but wakes up the next morning, eyes raw, tear tracks on his face, and a text from donna that says: i’ll be there in a day. stay put, bw,

“wow you’re a mess,” jason says from a corner of the room. any other time, dick would be on his feet, demanding to know how jason found them. now though, he’s feeling out of his body again, and so he says, “i kind of am, aren’t i?” and watches the words float, parting the air above him.

jason sighs.

being with donna helps get his head on straight, even though at first her appearance threatened to bring back even more traumatic memories. she’s a soothing, sobering presence not just for him, but for the others as well. they continue to motel-hop as they prepare for their big final battle against trigon.

jason continues to find them, somehow. (dick wouldn’t put installing a tracker on one of them beyond him, but he’s much too tired to feel angry about that.) he chats with dick and sometimes they bond by watching a movie together or swinging from buildings in the chill, crisp night air, jason’s cackling laugh echoing in dick’s ears.

jason always leaves as quickly as he appears, but dick is grateful for his presence.

they defeat trigon, and there’s a party. even hank and dawn show up. jason is conspicuous in his absence.

after several unanswered texts and calls, dick bites the bullet and calls alfred. “hey alf,” he says when the man picks up, “is jason there?”

there’s a long pause at the other end of the line. then: “did master bruce not tell you?” his voice sounds uncharacteristically hoarse.

dick’s stomach starts to sink. he steps away from the others and into a quiet room. “tell me what?”

“master jason...” alfred sighs. “he--he was killed by the joker two months ago. the funeral was last week.”

dick stumbles back to sit on the bed. the phone threatens to fall from his numb fingers even while his heart thunders against his ribs. “that’s impossible,” he manages. “i saw him five days ago. we saw--” there’s a hysterical laugh building in his chest, howling like a thunderstorm, “fuck we saw moulin rogue together. he told me how much he fucking loves musicals, i--”

alfred’s voice is suddenly distant and tinny. dick looks down to see his phone on the floor. he’s suddenly very, very aware of the dryness of his palms, the hot flush at the tips of his ears, the tears that are starting to slide down his cheeks, the way his lungs are burning with shock and grief and rage--

“hey, dickie,” jason says, smiling at him. “glad you finally caught up.”

( send me an au and i’ll give you 5+ headcanons! )

#this got completely out of control #yikes #titans #my fic #dick grayson #jason todd #a byronic cupcake #a tragic jalebi #cw mental illness #ptsd #please let me know if i should tag/warn for anything #sillierthanasillylaugh

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into-crazy · 4 years ago

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My thoughts on J with a s/o that plays video games

I was inspired by @loveletterstoledger and their wonderful hc's on gaming. I just wanted to share my own concepts. I based and wrote this from my own experiences- from what games I like to play and how I play. This ended up unnecessarily long, but what can I say? I have no regrets. Anyways, enjoy my fellow(and non-fellow) gamers💘

Warnings- Cursing & brief mentions of violence

There were many things about you that never cease to amaze and humor Joker. Like the time he found you on the couch, intently staring at the flat screen with a game controller in your hands.

You loved playing video games, especially the graphic and violent ones. Call of Duty, Grand Theft Auto, Mortal Kombat, Twisted Metal, House of the Dead: Overkill Extended cut, and Street Fighter were a few you often played on two different consoles. Especially online where you could play with/against others.

Without bragging, you've become a fairly proficient player. Playing them over some time, always finding ways to improve your skills. The more you played, the better you got.

J never shared your interest in such games simply because he lives them out in real life on the daily. Gunfire, explosions, and violence are already apart of his dangerous lifestyle. So why waste his time watching or acting it out on a TV screen when he could go out and do all of that himself?

However, that didn't stop him from watching you play sometimes. Whether he was sitting next to you on the sofa fiddling with his knives, or glancing over while he'd work on some wild contraction on your kitchen table.

"Think you're good at that, huh? How about coming with me tonight? I'll give ya that same gun an' we can ah, test that out." He'd slyly remark, laughing when you’d agree to take him up on it.

It amused him to see how competitive you'd get, so invested in the game you were currently playing. Which you were quite good at, he thought to himself.

He didn’t peg you for as the “gamer” type, and he found it interesting that you were into that violent stuff. Then again, you were with him, so it didn’t come off as much of a surprise.

He especially found entertaining the frustration you exude when things weren't working well for you in the session/lobby. Whether it was lag or you getting your ass kicked.

Now you're not much of a sore loser, in fact you're actually a chill and clean player. Although, you do have your moments. Muttering and sometimes even shouting profanities aloud like, "Idiot!" // "Damn it." // "Fuck me!"

"What? Here, now?" Would J playfully tease you, snickering when you'd shoot him an annoyed glare. "Sheesh, you're rather feisty, bunny. Gettin' all worked up over a measly game."

"Yeah, one that I'm losing!"

The ones he likes to watch you play often are GTA and COD. At times he was helpful, and other times he was purposely obnoxious.

"Watch the health bar." // "Reload the gun." // "Look to the left. Shoot! He's right there!" // "Ah, see? Had ya just listened to me, ya would have won. I would've."

"It's because I was listening to you that I got my ass whooped." You'd argue back. "I'd like to see you have a go at it! If you're so confident in that statement, then prove it. Play me a round."

That was a clear challenge, and J does enjoy himself a challenge. A wide grin splits his painted cheeks, scars bunching up in genuine amusement as he'd cackle. "You ah, sure about that toots? Because, I'd have no problem in beating you at your own game."

But you paid no mind, already handing him the spare controller, donning a confident smile of your own. "Postive."

You set it up- COD one-on-one Team Deathmatch, twenty minutes. Player with the most kills at the end wins. You briefed him of the remote buttons and special moves. He chose the map, and you started.

The first half, you took it easy. Let him ease into the game. Right off the bat was he running around the map and shooting wildly. But J was a fast learner, he quickly got the hang of it.

"I'll bite, this is a little fun.."

After killing you a couple times, he became too cocky. "Come on, doll. I've seen ya play better than that. Go hard, huh?"

He asked for it. Switching back into gamer mode, you showed no mercy. Headshots, sniper shots, melee attacks, you name it. Soon racking up kill after kill. Now, it was your turn to laugh and J didn't like that.

His cackling stopped and he grew irritated. Hands tensing around the controller, you thought he was going to break it. Frustrated growls left him each time your count went up. He was losing, and he hated to lose. Which ended up being the case once the round was over.

"I don't like this game." He grumpily mumbles, carelessly tossing the controller to the side.

"Awe come on J, don't be such a sore loser." You'd sprinkle salt on the wound, mimicking his tone from earlier back against him- "It's just a game."

That point on, he made it his goal to beat you. Or at least give you good competition. But mostly just to beat you so he could have the satisfaction in winning. Joker had to win.

When he wasn't busy terrorizing the city, messing with Bats, drawing up a plan, or spending quality time with you- he was on your console. Playing against others online, just how you would. Practicing, getting better.

You've actually walked in on him a few times, his focused eyes glued to the screen. It was a funny sight to see, and you wondered if that's how you looked when you played.

One evening you came home to find a large, opened box containing a bunch of game controllers on your table. "Um J, where did you get these?"

"I found 'em." He stole them. Off to his side there were already two broken ones. "Oh- which reminds me," he hands you a brand new copy of your signature controller. "I sort of uh, used yours." In translation, he got mad and broke it.

Once he knew he mastered his skills, which didn't take him long, he challenged you to a proper rematch.

You gladly accepted, thinking this oughta be good. And no doubt it would be, you've watched him, he's going to be a real competitor.

"What do ya say we take it up a notch, hm bunny?" To make things more interesting, Joker thought it would be fun to raise the stakes and you couldn't agree more. Wagering a bet of whatever the winner desires. You each laid yours down and finally agreed.

Everything was set up the same as last time. While the screen was loading, you looked towards J who held a half smirk. He was gonna play dirty, you were sure of it. Anticipating it even. Sometimes, it's fun playing dirty. He always made it such.

You grinned, offering words of encouragement. "Good luck J, may the odds be in your favor~"

I was in a writing rut, and this was really fun to do. I hope I didn’t write him too out of character, if I did.

#into-crazy #ledger joker #heath ledger joker #ledger joker imagine #l!joker #ledger!joker #tdk #the dark knight #the dark knight joker #ledger joker x reader

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dontbesoweirdkira · 5 years ago

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Dating Jason Todd would include

-YOU ARE LITTLE PRECIOUS BUNNY I SWEAR YOU BRING OUT THE SOFTEST PART OF THIS BROKEN MAN

-like this dude will literally let you get away with ANYTHING and no one better stop you

-“Hey Jay I just robbed a bank and took a lollipop from that kid next door.”

-“Aww you’re so cute, Doll. Let me put out this cigarette and I’ll help you count the money, okay?”

-“Jay, Dick said I can’t have anymore ice pops!!! I really want some, it’s not fair!!”

-“ He said what?! hOld On iM gEtTinG mY Gun nO OnE TelLs mY lItTle Babe sHe caNt haVe anY iCe popS.”

-wearing his thick leather jackets that smell like cigarettes and expensive scotch

-Stealing his 1/16263819827 Red hoods and waddling around the house while he’s out on patrol

-“Hey I’m RedHood and I have DaDdY IssUes, prepare to diEee!!! *pew pew*”

-“is that how I sound to you?! Because I don’t *pew pew* I *brrraaatratratatataaa* get it correct Y/N”

-Your tough edgy boyfriend

-If he has an off day, he’ll take you on a ride on his motorcycle to wherever you want to go. If it’d make you happy, he’d drive to Paris for you if he could.

-You guys usually end up drifting by the waterside, taking in the longing smell of the sea, feeling the subtle warmth of the setting sun and melting into the welcoming breeze

-There’s this really good Sandwich stand by the oceanfront and you guys always get a large one, and share it with a nice cold bottle of Coke. There’s also this really nice private beach that you two have no business being on, you guys would sometimes just sit on one of the lifeguards stands for a while and just enjoy each other

-“Hey Jay Jay?”

-“What’s up, Love bug?

-“Your eyes have a hint of Aqua Green in them. It’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. I just wanted you to know that, that’s all.”

-IN HOME CONCERTS EVERY SATURDAY AND OR FRIDAY.

-every week you guys make a list of your favorite classics and you build a Spotify playlist and dance around the house screaming *cough* I-i mean singing on the top of yalls lungs.

-weird adventures around the city! Like you guys sometimes go to weird parts of the city to see some weird crap to laugh about later on.

-“Why is he wearing a tutu and dirty socks-“

-“keep walking baby girl don’t question it.”

-monthly movie nights where you guys watch a movie that has crappy 1 star reviews while eating a bunch of unhealthy garbage all night.

-“but why did he do that?”

-“according to ‘moviecridictbooiiii12’, he’s an uncultured swine who has no Character development, 1/10 trash person totally.”

-If you guys are just sitting in a comfortable silence, just cuddling, he might open up a bit about his childhood or maybe talk a bit about how he’s feeling. But that’s a rare rare occasion he doesn’t like talking much about it.

-This sometimes can cause a bit of a rift because it almost feels as if there’s a lack of trust but you understand he’s been through a whole lot and if it were you, you’d probably be the same way

-he does not like pills in the house but if you have health issues and have to take them, he won't crucify you because of it, but he will monitor you and make sure there is no drug abuse. He wants to make sure history doesn’t repeat itself. He doesn't wanna lose you that way.

-He’s a depressed crackhead

-“Hey Y/N, can you tell me what’s in the drawer in the kitchen. The one next to the sink”

-“Hmm? There’s nothing in here Jason.”

-“Nothing you say? Just like my relationship with Bruce haha.”

-“Are you okay?”

-“No I am not and neither is my sleep schedule.”

-Oh yeah this Poor boy barely sleeps. Mainly because he’s out on patrol all night and when he finally gets home, he’s being called back out. Or sometimes he’s just so restless thinking about everything he needs to do. Other times he’s just scared to sleep.

-Yeah he’s pretty reluctant to go to sleep. He’s scared to have a bad dream and wake up in a vulnerable state. Or to accidentally wake you up from tossing and turning and wails of agony.

-You lost a lot of hours of sleep already do to comforting him at night so as much as he can function without a nights rest, he’ll do it to spare you

-You hate when he does this because you actually don’t mind comforting him, it makes you feel like he trusts and can rely on you.

-nightmares about the joker or the pit. Cryinggg this boy is really traumatized

-��Shhh, Jason it’ll be alright. I’m right here love.”

-Even though he avoids sleep at all costs, this doesn’t stop him from napping on the recliner or at the kitchen table from time to time.

-He’s a bit self destructive with drinking, smoking, betting himself up, not sleeping or eating properly. You really have to help him and work with him. Be patient and kind pLz.

-He doesn’t like exposing you to the stuff he does, he doesn’t like you seeing all the gore or what not so he doesn’t try to come home bloody much actually. He might stop at dicks house or some other friend’s house to clean up a bit before coming to you

-Todd doesn’t like you to see and be around all that. He wants to keep that life very very separate, he even tries to keep the news off and away from you. Although you already know and if it bothers you it not, it’s not much you can do to stop him.

-The only time you might see him bloody or hurt is when he can’t make it to a friends house and he needs you to patch him up and put him to bed quickly.

-argurmentssss

-Yeah you guys do little annoying antics back and forth but it’s not something super crucial. The only time where it heats up is like if something he’s doing really really bothers you, like his killings or if he does something super reckless. The arguments usually end up with

- “I’m sorry Doll, I’ll do better for you.”

- “Sorry JayBird, I wasn’t being fair”

-The worst an argument had ever gotten was when he didn’t come home for weeks without telling you he was out on a mission and you were scared out of your mind and ended up cursing him out for scaring you.

-You didn’t talk to him for about a week and he was a wreck

-“JASON DONT YOU DARE TRY TO KISS ME OR HUG ME I THOUGHT YOU WERE F*CKING DEAD OR WORSE! YOU COULD'VE TOLD ME SOMETHING LIKE I LITERALLY HATE YOU RIGHT NOW I COULDN'T SLEEP FOR WEEEKS JASON I WAS WORRIED SICK-“

-“Hey, it’s okay Y/n- I’m here no-“

-“NO IT'S NOT LITERAL I DON'T WANT TO TALK TO YOU ANYMORE, GET AWAY FROM ME.”

-He cannot stand when he breaks your heart or makes you upset like he beats himself up a whole lot. He will apologize to you and do anything to make it up.

-“Stupid Todd? How can you upset the one person that seems to be so patient and loving to you? Ugh you idiot.”

-yeah he literally kissed up to you for months he felt so bad even after you apologized for overreacting and told him he didn’t need to do anything

-Yeah speaking of kissing up to you, he Buys you anything you want just ask. Looking at that super nice outfit in the mall? Check your room, it’s on your bed with a cute little note. Want an ice cream sundae? Yeah he got extra fudge/caramel for his princess.

-He just loves you like so so much he doesn’t care what you look like, how big or how skinny, how light or how dark you are. He literally adores you and wants to protect you with all his heart. He’d buy the whole world for you.

-“Jason, literal listen to me. 600 dollars for a charm bracelet I liked in the mall is too much, go return it”

-he’s a bit overprotective with you. Not in a “HEKDJEHEHEHINEEDTOKNOWWHEREYOUAREATALLTIMESSENPAI.” Kind of way but in a like “Check in every once in a while will ya babe? I wanna make sure you’re okay.”

-He doesn’t let you go outside after a certain time for ANYTHING unless it’s an emergency. It’s too dangerous in Gotham for you to be out scrolling going to a convenience store at 10pm at night. So if you need something from the store he’ll go get it for you or already have it in the house.

-Will 100 throw hands for you

-actually makes sure you can defend yourself and trains you a bit every month to make sure if trouble comes and he’s not there, you can protect yourself

-Intimacy

-Honhonhon. Although what many believe Jason has a high sex drive and wants it a lot or what not. I don’t think it’s 100% true

-I believe that like if his partner wasn’t the type of person who wanted it, or didn’t feel comfortable with it, he’d be okay with it. Like he doesn’t need it to survive although you look hecking good in that outfit today

-I feel like he’d be more kissy and rough touching than the full 100 yards with a more soft/standoffish sexually significant other.

-Yeah if he gets from a stressful mission or just needs to feel you, he’s gonna wanna kiss and touch on you but if you’re not into all that then like he’d back off because he respects you enough

-neck kisses and thigh kisses

-“jaybirdy I wanted to wear that new skirt I got yesterday, now I got your bites all over my legs.”

-he's a totally Dom and that’s on that period boo

-dAdDy KiNk I’m sorry

-His voice somehow becomes super raspy when he’s aroused?!?!

-He will tease you to a point you moan out his name and then turn around and act innocent

-“let’s watch Frozen! What’s with that face dear? You didn’t think I’d let you have it that easily now did you?”

-*wears anything short*

-”WOOOOO DAMMNNNN Y/NNNNNN LOOKING FOINE TODAY I SEE YOU! CAN I GET YOUR NUMBER?!?! YOU GOT A BOYFRIEND BECAUSE I KNOW HE'S DAMN LUCKYYY!”

-Highkey finds it so hot when you sit on his lap like damn it feels so nice to him like you know you’re his and that’s like arousing to him. Will play with the hem of your skirt if your wearing them and your thighs aren’t safe

(Anyways I ain’t trynna make this NSFW but I might do a little something for my 200 follower special)

-On a softer purer note, you guys are like the roasters of the fam, okay! Like no one is safe, especially Damian.

-“Tch- Todd and his little pet.”

-“Dami, didn’t know you’d be here, and apparently your hairline didn’t know either.”

-*Jason, Tim and Dick were dying*

-“Hey you little accident, why you standing like that, you look like you’re bout to enlist in the army.”

-“shut up Todd, at least I have good posture unlike you.”

-“Hey leave Damian alone, Jason. Dami just has a pole in his ass that makes him stand in first position all the time. It’s a serious condition, y’all need to stop laughing.”

-“Hey Selina! Your Sugar Daddy is in the kitchen, try not to steal anything though because he might cut down your weekly allowance.”

-“Haha Y/N and yours is in the living room getting drunk, careful he might end up with me tonight.”

-“Hmm, a gold digger and a cougar? Wow you got your careers set don’t ya! Ooops you should check in the mirror tho! I think your Botox is drooping.”

-yAlL CAnT sTop ROaStinG PeOpLe anD it’S wOrse When yaLls DruNk

-You’re actually pretty close to The BatFam and like Bruce Adores you he thinks you’re a wonderful influence on Jason like you changed him a lot. Dick sees you as a baby sister and like he literally baby’s you so much it’s sad. Tim and you like to joke around a bit and talk you guys get along decently. Although Damian would NEVER admit it, he actually is kinda fond of you even though you guys insult each other. He might stab someone for like hurting you or something. But watch your back because he might stab you as well.

-going to Bruce’s Galas and charity events like by force.

-“yYyyYYyyY/NnnNnNnNiEeeeEEee PLEaSE COmeEeeee sO iWOnT DrInk MySelF ouT oF tHeRe!!!”

-“Jason let go of my leg.”

-You don’t actually mind it too much, you’ve made some nice connections and plus it’s a little date night with Jason so Win Win!!

-He actually wears a nice Tux and styles his hair real nicely. Might even be wearing that nice watch Bruce gave him a long time ago on his birthday.

-*sniff sniff* is that Cologne? *sniiiiiiffffffff* *HIGHLY* Expensive cologne he’s wearing?! And *pat pat* HAIR GEL OH BOIIII

-He actually picks out a dress for you to wear. One he’s been dying to see you in. The super expensive one he found while shopping with Dick and Bruce one day.

-If some rich guy try’s flirting with you, it’s over for them. Jealous Todd Mode activated!

-“Doll Face, I found you. Love wandering off don’t you babe? When we get home, I’ll make sure you won’t want to wander off again,” He kisses into your ear hungrily “wHo’s tHiS, Y/N? Is he bothEriNg yOu?” He asks like he didn’t see him there

-“No but Jason you are.“

-“:o”

*later*

-“I DON'T UNDERSTAND WHAT I DID WRONG Y/N!! HE WAS FLIRTING WITH YOU AND I HAD TO INSERT MY DOMINANCE.”

-“JAY HE WAS A BUSINESSMAN LOOKING TO INDORSE ME AND MY WORK! YOU JUST EMBARRASSED ME AND MADE HIM FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE!! LITERALLY NOW HE THINKS I HAVE AN OVER POSSESSIVE BOYFRIEND.”

-“oh-“

“YEAH ‘oH’! serIouslY I CanT stAnd yoU.”

-Jason’s drinking and smoking. Let’s just say you’re not the biggest fan of it because of his health, you’re so worried about it. He’s already taking shots and stabs but like the drinking and smoking on top of that? You’re worried about him

-You always voice your concern and he’s never too phased and he’s always like

-“Don’t worry L/N, I’ll be okay. If this kills me, don’t let Dick take my meat stash in the freezer. Tell him I’m coming back to life in like 3 months give or take and I’ll be hungry for steak.”

-Actual best boyfriend! Like if you’re insecure about anything he’ll make you feel so much better, in every way possible. He makes it so know how much he loves you it’s so sweet and super cute like I’m crying.

-makes weird faces at you randomly and it somehow gets you to laugh?!?!

-cooks breakfast or dinner for you every once in a while but messes up a few times

-“sorry y/n I accidentally burnt the cookies I was trying to make for you. I-I can go run and ask Alfred to make some? I know how long you’ve been waiting to have some.”

- Did I mention he’s best boi? Like ugggghhhh he’s so blind to all that superficial mess people get caught up in. You talk down about yourself and he’ll like attack you in love I swear he will. He doesn’t like the self deprecation you do. He completely detests it.

-“Say you’re ugly one more time I’ll slap you with this heart of mine. Don’t make me do it Y/N. I’ll give you so much love, the only thing you’ll be able to say is “Omg I love myself so much like damn I’m so sexy and so fine and my personality? Perfect! thanks to my totally handsome boyfriend, I see myself so clearly now.”

-You guys Also like spend his birthday with just each other. But it’s really special to him and he always looks forward to the small marble cake you make, that has strawberries on top. He loves when you sit on his lap with your face in the crook of his neck, whispering into his skin ever so gently telling him to ‘make a wish old man’

-something about the birthdays you spend with him, brings him back to a happy place he once felt as a child. Or wanted to feel. He always wishing for the same thing…..to always see you happy

-“Jay I love you.”

-“I love you too Y/N. Remember that okay?”

(Request open)

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kibastray · 4 years ago

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Can Thieves Fix a Broken Heart?

Mlb x P5

The Phantom Thieves of Hearts go to Paris.

This could be as a vacation or them setting up shop in a new location. (IDK yet)

The PToH do their thing. Going into the Metaverse and exploring both the Mementos and any Palaces they come across

It all goes well for the PToH team.

The Akumas are weird. but it seems that Ladybug & Chat Noir can deal with them.

It helps the team find their next mark

Needless to say the Palaces the team come across in Paris are all unique compared to what they were in Japan.

(while Japan were based off of the Seven Deadly Sins. It seems that Paris’ Palaces are based off Saints and Virtues... maybe could be fun)

One Palace they haven’t yet to find the treasure of belongs to one Lila Rossi. From what they have come to understand is that she has already been akumatized several times

Her Palace is what the team expects in all honesty

Ornate and shiny, full of fake gold and other such things

They have seen this type of person before back in Japan

To the team she is self-centered and views herself as a queen of her own little world

It will only be a matter of time before they find the treasure and can steal her treasure, changing her heart for the better hopefully

For the most part the team adjust to Paris fairly quickly

That is until one day the get a notice from the Metaverse Navigator about a Palace that is near by.

It is unprompted and has all three keywords needed to enter.

Name: Marinette Dupain-Cheng

Location: Boulangerire Patisserie

Distortion: St.(saint) Seraphim of Sarov Correctional

(personal note: idk any of the saints so please forgive me if this ins’t right. Reason why I chose this)

1: it is the saint of self-control

2: after google searching “saint of self-control” I found it and it spells S.o.S... which is perfect for this story

They all agree that having a Palace pop up unprompted AND already having all three keywords to enter is a bit odd, but they wave it off.

because there is a lot in Paris that hasn’t made a lot of sense, so they don’t question it.

The thing about this Palace, it is MASSIVE.

Biggest Palace in all of Paris. easily. Ranks up there pretty high when they compare it to all Palaces even including the ones from Japan.

It is themed like a Prison/insane asylum.

This Palace is different from all others they have come across in Paris.

Unlike others that show off its opulence in some way, this one doesn’t and even seems a bit bland with its brick and mortar.

The team get the feeling that this Palace is a subconsciously constructed one. Just like Futaba’s was

When they make it in the Palace their hearts sink into their stomachs

Every minor shadow of the Palace, more like Prison, is of the same girl.

And each and every one of them are held up in a room/jail cell. Each of the countless doors they have come across have a window looking in.

Some of the ones that stick out to the team are:

One is mad and hateful, bound in chains

She lashes out out anything she thinks could be dishonest

On the door is a phrase “Take the High Road.”

Another is scared and clearly trying to stop herself from crying at the jeers and insults blaring at her from the in-room speakers

the door says “Set a good example”

Another still is making all sorts of heart shaped things, obviously love struck for someone.

but instead of giving them away she stacks them to the side with a sad expression

On the door “don’t be jealous.”

Others range from a mad-hatter-esk girl worrying about maintaining schedules and deadlines, to a sleuth trying to find out ‘Who is he’

The last door they come across is the only double door so far

on one is the girl’s name “Marinette” on the other is the name of a local hero “Ladybug”

On Marinette’s door it says “Our everyday Ladybug” and on Ladybug’s it says “Must never faultier”

When the team go in they see a stage with two of girl on it.

Marinette is keeping up a smile and using niceties while a ball and chain is on both ankles

Ladybug is capturing an akuma, purifying it, then releasing it.

With everything they have seen and with what is in front of them, the Team’s heart break a little

Every Palace before this one was of someone lording their position of power, or hiding a secret.

this girl’s Palace doesn't show any desire at all. It looks to be actively policing any desire the girl may have.

This isn’t a Palace at all. this is a Prison locking and sealing away the very heart that created it.

The Thieves don’t get long to dwell on that revelation as a third version of the girl passes by them with a quick “Pardon monsieurs, mademoisells.”

Other than that she doesn’t pay them any attention

This version of the girl is obviously the true shadow self of the poor girl

She looks well dressed and business like.

Similar to Caroline and Justine’s outfits if not a rank up from that though

No hat, but her hair is done up in a bun

A plain porcelain mask with a kind smile hides everything but her eyes

draped over her shoulders is a, shoulder length, cape that has the world’s continents stitched into it.

She is the de facto warden of this Palace turned Prison

She addresses the two on stage with a cool and calm demeanor

She tells them how to correct what they are doing and how to do it right

The pair on stage repeat their actions they did before as the warden has them do it again until it is perfect

The team can’t help but think that it is like a pair of puppets being placed and posed to be set in the perfect position

Seeing enough the Phantom Thieves try and deal with the warden

it could be through combat like the game, or just talking to her (either way it ends the same)

The mask falls off the warden and reveals the same girl they have seen this entire infiltration.

When the mask hits the floor it flies straight to the Marinette on stage.

When it does the two girls outfits change instantly.

The new warden walks off the stage and chastises the new Marinette for loosing focus.

“if Ladybug can handle a jab like that, then so can you.”

It is a sickly calm to her voice when she speaks. (and it sounds wrong to the team)

The new Marinette gives a shaky “R-right” before she gets on stage and takes the old marinette’s place, practicing the same scene as before.

The Warden looks at the band of thieves “How may I help you?”

with her yellow/golden glowing with intensity and the calm way she says it sends a chill up their spines.

“There must be some way I can help you correct those errant behaviors of yours.”

As she says that, and with her eyes on them, do the Phantom Thieves understand that this will be their toughest fight/heist yet.

And they are right, because when they try and reengage the Warden they lose ground quickly and have to retreat.

Each time they defeat a warden the mask flies to another Marinette and the fight starts anew with a refreshed Warden.

While running to safety a little red mote light leads them to a safe room.

the red light is formless (it’s Tikki, but they don’t know that)

She tells them that; she had been trying to help Marinette but there is only so much they can do to off set all the negativity/chaos in Marinette’s life.

The team thank the little light and head out to find the treasure of this Prison

Sneaking around they meet other motes of light, all willing to help the team out (guardian Mari gets all the Kwami)

Even with the help of the little lights the team still have to retreat and regroup from the Prison. Because the Warden is too strong any time they come across her

Once in the real world the team agree to learn more about this girl and how to help her.

To do that they need to get to know Marinette.

Skull and Panther meet her at the bakery.

( Ryuji and Ann). as both can play off the tourist looking for good food and light conversation

They find her to be very nice and well meaning. even going as far as to offer places to visit in Paris

Fox and Queen meet her at school as teacher’s aids

(Yusuke and Makoto) they are the most likely to be able to actually be of help to the teachers and students

They find her to be the class-president that rivals Queen’s own work ethic back when they were all still in school.

Noir and Crow meet her when she is touring the city.

(Haru and Goro) are the best at one on ones in their own right.

Find out about her passion of being a fashion designer (maybe add in her sketches of the Phantom Thieves’ outfits with little changes here and there)

Oracle (Futaba) looks up her online presence

She finds out that Marinette is connected to every major personality that has roots in Paris some way or another. and that the girl’s fashion website is top tier.

Joker & Morgana (Protagonist and mascot) meet her during her nightly patrols as a hero.

Ladybug was suspicious of them at first but when they calmed her down and reassuring her that they aren’t akuma they find out exactly what is going on in Paris and find out who the main villain is.

They all see the same thing however.

A young girl with the weight of the world on her shoulders.

Worse part is that she hides it so well behind that mask of hers.

The one with a kind smile and friendly tone.

(side note just because I couldn’t figure out a way to put this in: the Phantom Thieves are immune to Hawkmoth. I am gonna say that their Personas keep them safe by destroying/purifying the akuma right away or hiding them from Hawkmoths perception)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I would like to thank @miraculous786 for letting me bounce another idea off of them.

1) I don’t know to much about Persona 5, just the basics. 2) When I came up with this it turned into a POV from the Phantom Thieves 3) It is more geared to be a sad/angst fic, au, prompt. 4) anything that doesn’t make sense as far as references go (realworld or otherwise) is because it was the end result of a quick google search. Please forgive me if I don’t have it right.

Edit: reorganized things a bit.

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watchtower-feed · 5 years ago

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Death Do We Part (Part 13)

SSA Spin-off ✧ Jason Todd ✧ Physical Link ✧ 1 ✧ 2 ✧ 3 ✧ 4 ✧ 5 ✧ 6 ✧ 7 ✧ 8 ✧ 9 ✧ 10 ✧ 11 ✧ 12 ✧ 13 ✧ 14 ✧ 15 ✧ Words: 4,300+

Jason kisses you again, holding on to your face, and then grudgingly lets you go. He lies on the couch with his hand draped over his eyes as you gather your clothes and get dressed. You kneel beside his head and say his name.

“I can’t, Y/N-- If I see you, I won’t have it in me to let you walk out of here.”

So you kiss his cheeks with quivering lips and your tears warm his skin before you leave the Todds’ old apartment.

Jason’s whole body flinches at the sound of the door closing. He lets his own tears mix with the ones you left. Then he harshly rubs them away as he sits up to face the sun that’s slowly peeking over the cityscape from his window.

He takes in three deep breaths before he finally gets up and puts on his clothes, leaving the stench of Gotham on his skin along with the scent of you. It’s armor he tells himself. With you on his side he knows he can’t fail.

He takes out his phone and dials. He puts it on speaker and places it on the counter to pack his gear. The moment the ringing stops, he speaks first, “I want everybody in the bunker. Now.”

There’s a slight groan and hint of annoyance from the other side, “You can’t be--”

“Don’t make me wait.”

Jason hangs up. When its lights turn off, he can see his reflection on the black screen of his phone. His white bangs are hanging down, half covering his glowing green eyes. He touches the skin under them and wonders if you noticed. Did it scare you? As he looks into his mutated eyes watching himself, he snarls.

“Focus!”

There’s far too much at stake tonight to be daydreaming now. The sooner he finishes this mission, the sooner you can leave this town. Jason takes one last look at his phone before he leaves their old apartment.

He’s the first one at the bunker in the Arkham district and proceeds to check on the armory in the backroom. He puts on his domino mask and then his helmet. Then breathes in to give his mind and body time to adjust to his other role, his other identity.

When he gets back to the main room, there’s a couple of thugs spread out on the floor and some of the big players sitting at the big table in the middle.

“What’s the big idea calling us in so early in the morning? Most of us work nights you know!” Penguin’s nasally voice is already giving Jason a headache.

I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be here!

Jason clams his mouth shut inside his helmet and walks up to the table.

“Are you listening to me-- or is that blasted thing on mute--”

He slams his hands on the table and waits for the echo to stop, making sure all eyes are on him. “We’re doing it tonight.”

He watches as the big crime lords of Gotham widen their eyes and turn to each other like shoolchildren.

“Tonight? Are you fucking kidding me?” Black Mask is standing now and circling the table to act like a menace but always making sure there’s somebody else between him and the Red Hood.

“Are your men not ready?” Jason asks.

Black Masks flinches and the sides of his nose twitch. “Of-of course they are--”

“Good. Because we’re taking out Batman and the Joker tonight. If you’re not ready then you’re out of the deal.”

The deal. The deal Jason’s been waving around at the noses of these dredges of Gotham City. One night. One final night to get both Batman and the Joker out of their lives.

It’s not surprising a lot of them want to get rid of the Joker. The maniac’s a loose canon that’s not fit for any alliance and if you tick him off, you won’t know what to expect.

“Have you figured out how to get the lunatic out of the asylum?” Dent speaks up from the wall he’s been leaning against. “The new vault is Wayne tech but they outsourced it from an anonymous--”

“Oh, I never said anything about me breaking him out.” Jason cuts him off because he already knows this. He doesn’t like it when people repeat shit he already knows. It was never like this when he worked with Batman. “Don’t you worry your pretty faces over it. I’ve already got the perfect girl doing the dirty work for me.”

“Right,” Penguin snorts, “Because you don’t actually do any work--”

“When do we get to kill the Bat?” Bane’s menacing voice vibrates within the room, even terrifying Jason behind his mask.

“Now that’s what I like to hear,” he yells out almost shakily, but your scent on him is trapped inside his helmet and it’s helping him keep calm, keep up appearances. “You, Killer Croc, and Clayface will come with me to the bridge.”

“How do you know he’ll show?” Bane interrupts and Jason wants to show them a smile that says ‘leave it to me’. Instead he keeps quiet with his eyes on Bane who only narrows his eyes with scrutiny.

“Right. Right. Of course,” Black Mask groans as he walks around more freely. “You’ve got another slutty little streetrat doing the work--”

There’s a loud bang. Everyone in the room watches as Black Mask falls to the floor with a smoking hole in his head. Jason is heaving heavy breaths under his helmet and his eyes are wide and trained on the dead man who just said shit about you, while his hand is holding the gun.

Once his composure is under control, he turns to Dent, talking to him with the gun slanted to the side. “Congratulations. His men are now yours.”

Dent stares at the crazy bastard in front of him before he grins.

As soon as the meeting is over, Jason is the first one to leave. He heads off to a small diner in the central business district, one of those small eateries at the heart of the city that are slowly dying.

Happy to have the helmet off of him, he eats his food quietly while staring at his arm that’s propped up on the table. His last words looking back at him. “What did she do-- tattoo it on her skin?” he teases as he pokes it with a fork, smiling at the thought of you reading it over and over again.

Someone slips into his booth. It’s enough to alarm Jason because he should’ve noticed anyone walking toward him. When he looks up, he finds his replacement in front of him.

“Dick rewrites it every day with industrial-strength markers.”

Jason’s other hand reaches for another weapon concealed in his jacket. Tim sits upright in front of him with both of his hands under the table. Jason only guesses he’s pointing something at him, too. They stare at each other for a while before Tim finally speaks up.

“Fuck you.”

The corner of Jason’s lips twitch. He almost wants to laugh. Heck, he does laugh. “Fucking rude--”

“You slept with Y/N and then you sent her back to Bruce to ask him to let you kill the Joker.”

Jason’s eyes widen. What were you thinking? Jason knew you were going to tell Bruce his plan that’s why they had to do it tonight. But he never asked you to stand up for him. He doesn’t want you to be involved in this. Why would you go and do that?

Tim clenches his teeth as Jason continues to stare dumbly at him. “What kind of sick joke are you playing at? She’s in love you with you and you’re--”

“Hey.” Jason’s voice is low and he’s staring into Tim’s eyes, blue like his, almost like his used to be. Did you gaze into them before you kissed him? Did they remind you of him? “You should learn to mind your own fucking business, kid.”

“You--”

“Thanks though.”

Tim eyes Jason curiously, wondering what he means. Then he feels it, the kick of a tranquilizer rapidly invading the nerves of his body. Before his head hits the table, Jason is already by his side and placing his head on his shoulder.

“You should’ve waited for the party but I guess you just saved me a lot of time.” Jason nods his head to the waitress walking by. Then he takes out his phone and calls Penguin.

“What is it now, Hood?”

“You should be happy to know that I just did some dirty work ahead of schedule.” Jason relishes the angry snort Penguin gives him before he continues. “So I’ll be helping you with the bombs later this afternoon.”

There’s a long silence on the line before Penguin finally replies, nervous. “Are you sure this will work?”

“Trust me. After tonight, when those bombs go off, you’ll be the only kingpin left in this city. No more Falcone or Dent.”

After Jason hangs up, he pays the bill for his food and drapes his jacket over Tim, making sure his face is hidden as he hauls his body over to Arkham district.

Finally, night came. Tim is tied up. The bombs are in place. The Joker is being broken out. And Batman is driving over the bridge. Jason is fighting every urge to tap his foot on the ground, or clench his fist, or rub his arm where his last words are written.

All day he’s had to fight the urge to write to you, something you haven’t done in almost a year. But the fact that you haven’t written anything to him made it easier. You understand that everything is going down tonight and you’re giving him space.

Now all he has to do is focus. Everything will go according to plan. It’s time for the theatrics, just like Batman taught him.

“Sorry, Batman! This part of the city’s closed for the day! Public execution and all!” Jason is surrounded by cheering thugs finally rejoicing at the thought of a Bat and Joker-free city. Everything will be theirs for the taking.

Jason watches his temporary alliance follow through with the plan. He whistles as Bane lands on the bridge. “You sure know how to make an entrance.”

“Time for your exit, boy,” Killer Croc hisses as he passes by Jason.

Jason sees no point in talking back. He presses the button for the EMP and waits for the lights of the batmobile to go out. Then he nods to Croc and Clayface and disappears into the crowd. Once out of the frontline’s range, he uses his grappling gun to reach higher ground.

“Still bait. Need to make sure they see me.”

Jason hides among the shadows to watch Bruce and Dick work. Bane’s the first one to go down. “Taking down the biggest threat first. Efficient and predictable, Bruce.”

“Hoody! You double crossing son of a bitch!” One of the most annoying voices Jason has ever heard screeches into the comm in his ear. But it’s not really Harley he hates, it’s the other guy that always comes with her presence.

“What? Code didn’t work?”

“Oh it worked alright, you smarty shit helmet. I finally got mista J out of that stinkin place but guess who was waiting for us, huh? Guess!”

“You don’t know, do you?”

“You--”

Jason hangs up on Harley because he knows. He asked his friends from Eth Alth'eban for a couple of last favors until they can finally call it even. “Good. The appetizer’s already at the club-- Oh! Time to go.”

Nightwing had spotted him and now Batman is in pursuit. Jason leaps from one rooftop to another, making sure Batman can still see him as he turns at each corner.

Clayface and Croc never were much of a threat in an open space, away from their element. Dick could handle them with his eyes closed. But Jason busted some of his ribs so dealing with those two should keep him occupied all night.

The sound of Bruce’s grappling gun hisses in the air and Jason waits for it to wrap around his legs. Before it tauts, Jason turns mid-air and cuts the line before he free falls to the road. He lands on his feet and rolls over to lessen the impact. He whispers a small apology to you in case your body couldn’t handle it.

Bruce watches Jason run through the streets and follows from above. Jason can see his swift shadow casted by the foggy moonlight. He suddenly can’t help the stupid grin growing on his face. “Feels like old times, old man!”

When Bruce sees another bridge, he already knows which building the Red Hood is headed for. Batman perches a block away and tries to contact Nightwing.

“Status report.”

Dick nervously laughs. Bruce can hear the exhaustion in his voice. “Seriously dandy. Croc and Clayface almost can’t keep up.”

Bruce can’t see it but you can. Dick is barely standing on his own two legs, busted knees, exhaustion, and you know he’s emotionally overwhelmed. You’ve monitored enough of their videos to know that Dick isn’t at his best. You suddenly can’t help intervening.

“Bruce, turn back. You have to help Dick.”

“I’m fine,” Dick interjects. “Just get Jason.”

“Jason’s not the one in trouble right now, Dick--”

“Y/N.” Dick’s voice has suddenly gotten sharp. “Batman needs to make it this time.”

Your eyes widen as you watch Dick throw himself back into the fight. He’s exhausted but his opponents are in worse shape. Finally resigned, Alfred wraps his arms around your shoulder, bracing yourselves for what’s next.

As soon as Jason walks into Black Mask’s new club, he’s met with absolutely no one. He quickly prioritizes before he panics and checks the two large boxes on the dance floor.

A phone starts ringing loudly inside the deserted club, distracting him from the cape that flies in from the overhead window. Jason answers it and he hears Penguin’s unmistakeable nasally voice.

“Hello, Hood.”

Jason grits his teeth. Something isn’t right. “Where are you and Dent?”

“Sorry, Hood,” he snorts and chuckles. “We knew something was up. Found the bombs you snuck into my place. So you’re on your own.” He can hear boisterous laughter in the background and loud music. They’re celebrating prematurely at Penguin’s club. “But hey, if you manage to take the Joker and Batman to hell with you, good for us!”

The dial tone fills up the empty club and it feels like it’s getting louder inside Jason’s head. He yells in frustration and throws the phone against the wall.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

Jason is bent over, hands on his knees and hyperventilating. The helmet is suddenly suffocating. He takes it off and throws it across the dance floor. Batman stops it with his foot, making Jason look up and glare at him.

“Looks like you’ve run out of criminals to do the dirty work for you.” Batman’s voice brings Jason’s focus back to his own breathing. Things are not going according to plan but just the thought of putting this off for another day, makes his hands tremble. He wants to leave. He wants to run to you and leave this godforsaken city.

Bruce looks at his son with nothing but worry. He extends a hand to him. “Jason, it’s time to stop.”

Jason winces. He takes in one loud inhale and then lets it out in the form of boooming laughter. “Oh, but it’s just begun, and we’re so close to the climax already.”

Like a child lashing out when everything has gone wrong, Jason runs and jumps at Bruce, a fist aimed at the side of his father’s head. It’s sloppy. Easy enough for Bruce to block and secure Jason in front of him.

“Let’s go home,” he urges.

Bruce watches the trembling scowl on Jason’s face. Jason kicks off of Bruce’s chest. When he lands on his feet, he runs at him again to kick his side.

Bruce catches his leg and firmly holds it against his body using both of his hands. He glares at him, “Jason, stop!”

Jason snarls and punches the side of Bruce’s face. Then another one against the tip of his nose. Bruce immediately lets go of him, holding his nose while ringing permeated in his eardrums.

When he brings his hands down, there’s blood. “Jason, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“That’s too bad, pops.”

You have been too mesmerized by the one-sided battle between Bruce and Jason, that you forgot to watch Nightwing’s feed. When Alfred and your face are kissed by a bright glow coming from the other side of the screen, your eyes widen and your lips tremble.

“B-Bruce!” your voice echoes in his earpiece and he can already hear the panic. “The br-bridge! Dick was on the bridge and it just blew up!”

Jason notices the slight change in Bruce’s demeanor. He watches cautiously when his father clenches his fist and looks at Jason with a snarl. He starts walking toward Jason, letting him hear his every word.

“Forgive me, Y/N.”

And you brace yourself for the onslaught of pain that’s sure to come. You close your eyes and bury your head in Alfred’s embrace. He holds you tightly, both of you dreading and waiting. But the pain never comes.

You open your eyes and turn back to the monitor. Bruce is standing still in front of Jason with a fist just inches away from his son’s face. Jason’s eyes slowly open.

“I can’t,” Bruce confesses in a trembling voice.

Jason frowns as he watches the resignation on his father’s face. But it’s quickly replaced by a scowl as he remembers, remembers why they’re here. “I should be so flattered,” his voice hits Bruce like a blow to the chest. “Too bad you extend this same mercy to your enemies.”

Jason walks away from Bruce to stop in front of one of the boxes. He kicks it in and then he drags out a tied up orange clown into the middle of the club.

“To scumbags like him!”

The Joker shakes his head, trying to get rid of the sudden disorientation. He had been hearing their family drama from within the crate. But when his eyes settle on the black cowl and pointy ears, he grins and rises to his feet. He takes a quick look at Jason and recognizes him immediately.

“Oh! Is this my welcome back party? I’m underdressed.” The Joker looks down at his clothes from Arkham and winces. “Orange really isn’t my color. Blegh!”

His care-free attitude is only making Jason angrier. Everything has gone wrong. He has thrown himself against Bruce and almost got you hurt. And now, now the clown is treating all of this like a fucking party.

Jason kicks the Joker onto the floor and keeps his foot on his back. He keeps his head down as he snarls at the maniac beneath him.

“I don’t know what clouded your judgment worse…” His foot presses harder on the clown’s back before he looks at Bruce, glaring. “Your guilt or antiquated sense of morality.”

You watch with your hand over your mouth. Jason’s breathing has been labored this whole time and you don’t know if it’s because of all the running or the emotional toll of it all.

Jason looks at Bruce and he sounds broken, “I forgive you for not saving me--”

The Joker scoffs and nonchalantly interrupts Jason, “He couldn’t have saved you, boy. The timer was a dud. The warehouse was only rigged to explode once Batman stepped onto the property.”

Batman’s eyes widen with guilt but Jason already knew that. He knew that Bruce had come for him with 10 seconds to spare on the timer. More than enough time to get him and his mother out of there safely. To save you, too.

The Joker’s eyes widen with glee as he watches the taut lines on Batman’s exposed jaw. “You didn’t know, Batsy? My my!”

Jason almost feels sorry for Bruce as he desperately looks at his son’s eyes and then to his hands, thinking he was the one who had killed him. Jason puts more pressure on the Joker’s back and shouts, “Do you see?”

Jason takes off his mask to stare Bruce in the face, to look him in the eye when he finally asks the one question that has been eating at him alive. “So why! Why on god’s earth is this psychotic filth still alive?”

Jason’s outrage and their father-son confrontation is only making the Joker laugh in amusement, splintering his lips against the hardwood. “Gotta give the boy points! He came all the way back from the dead--”

Jason harshly turns him over and slaps a gag into his mouth, pushing it down and ties it until the Joker is choking.

More aggravated now, he’s heaving in breaths like he’s running out of air. Jason turns back to Bruce, gritting his teeth. “Ignoring what he’s done in the past. Blindly stupidly disregarding the entire graveyards he’s filled. The thousands who have suffered. The friends he’s crippled--!”

Jason watches as Bruce’s jaw clenches. They never talked about that. After that night, even when Barbara was released from the hospital, the family completely turned their backs on her, willing that the incidents never happened.

The memory only makes Jason’s blood boil and his heart clench in his chest. It’s so strong that you can feel it.

“I thought… I thought I’d be the last person you’ll ever let him hurt. If it had been you that he beat to a bloody pulp. If he had taken you from this world--” Jason pauses, surprised at the tear falling from his eye. He knows it’s not his but this has never happened before. You’ve never shared tears before.

Jason clenches his fist and yells at Bruce again, “I would have done nothing but search the planet for this pathetic pile of evil death-worshipping garbage and sent him off to hell!”

Bruce’s head is spinning. He sees the man he despises the most in this world and the boy he’s failed, both in life and in death.

“Jason... All I’ve ever wanted to do is kill him. A day doesn’t go by when I don’t think about subjecting him to every horrendous torture he’s dealt out to others. And then… end him.”

Bruce’s confession doesn’t appease anything in Jason. It only confuses him more.

“So why--”

“But if I do that…” Bruce gently interjects, “If I allow myself to go down into that place… I’ll never come back.” He takes a few steps forward and extends his hand to Jason with his palm facing up. “You’ll never come back, son.”

Jason stares at the hand extended to him before he finally snarls at his father. “Why?” he sounds like a child, broken and betrayed, “I’m not talking about killing Penguin or Scarecrow or Dent. I’m talking about him. Just him and doing it because… because he took me away from you.”

Bruce watches as Jason harshly wipes away the tears that keep coming. Jason doesn’t get mad at you. He doesn’t blame you. If he wanted to, he would let out everything as well. He almost wishes he could when Bruce finally answers him.

“I can’t, Jason. I’m sorry.”

You feel Jason’s nails dig into his palms. You watch as he narrows his eyes at Bruce and points the gun at the Joker.

“Well you won’t have a choice.”

Jason shoots the Joker in the head. The sound echoes in the silent club while Bruce stands still as the Joker’s body goes limp on the floor.

You watch as the mad clown who terrorized your dreams for over a year lies on the ground, unmoving and staining the floor with his blood. Dead. But you don’t feel a single drop of satisfaction from it as you follow the trail of smoke coming out of Jason’s gun.

“You don’t understand, Bruce,” he finally says. “I don’t think you’ll ever understand until someone spells it out plain and simple for you.”

Bruce takes a step forward with his hands up but Jason’s points the gun at him next. “You can’t protect us-- much like you can’t protect this city from every disgusting dredge that lurks at its every corner. Ra’s and your failure taught me one thing true about this world: it’s better to grab evil by the tendrils and burn it before it settles its roots.”

It feels like a hammering is slamming down on Jason’s chest. The exhaustion. The emotions. Finally everything is so close to its breaking point. You can feel it.

“This is what all this has been about, Bruce. This scum,” he kicks the Joker’s body, making it skid away, leaving a trail of his blood. Then he points the gun at Bruce and places his free hand on his chest. “You. Me. And him!”

Jason kicks open the other box in the club and harshly rips out a struggling Robin. Tim is tightly gagged and his eyes are wide open.

“Tim!”

You don’t know who shouted. You or Bruce. You watch as he struggles against Jason’s grip. He tightens his hold on Tim and presses him against one side of his body to prop him up for Bruce to see him in full view.

“Now is the time you decide.”

Jason throws the gun to Bruce, the one he used on the Joker. “If you won’t, I’ll kill him. If you want to stop me, you’re going to have to kill me.”

Bruce stares at Tim’s wide eyes and then at the gun in his hands. Tim is fiercely struggling against the Red Hood’s hold. The Red Hood. Jason. He looks at his once dead son and sees unfamiliar green eyes looking back at him. His answer comes softly with regret.

“You know I won’t--”

This only makes Jason angrier. He takes out another gun and points it at Tim’s temple, startling all of you.

“It’s him or me--”

“Stop!” You shout from the safehouse, suddenly standing and urgently looking for anything to write with, not wanting to watch anymore. But you can still hear him.

“You have to decide--”

Your soulmate.

“Think about Y/N!” Bruce shouts, making you stop and stare at your hands, a pen hovering over Jason’s last words.

Jason’s grip falters. Of course, he’s thinking of you. Every single minute of every single day, all he’s done is think of you. All of the things he’s done is for you. You and him. That’s why he has to do this.

His voice comes out like a low growl. “Decide now... Do it.”

Bruce is shaking his head and holding the gun with both of his hands, shaking. Jason glares at him and pushes the barrel of the gun harder against Tim’s temple.

“Him or me! Decide!”

✧ 1 ✧ 2 ✧ 3 ✧ 4 ✧ 5 ✧ 6 ✧ 7 ✧ 8 ✧ 9 ✧ 10 ✧ 11 ✧ 12 ✧ 13 ✧ 14 ✧ 15 ✧

✧ Watchtower Masterlist ✧

#...#ssa #superhero soulmate au #Jason Todd #Red Hood #Jason Todd fanfiction #Jason Todd imagine #Jason Todd x reader #Red Hood fanfiction #Red Hood imagine #Red Hood x reader #DC imagines #DC fanfiction #DC reader insert #watchtower-feed #atbucud

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peterbitxs · 4 years ago

Photo

[ CHARLES MELTON , MALE , HE/HIM ] it’s nice to see you [ CLYDE SHAW ] ! the last time i saw you, it was at the last town meeting, and you were acting a bit [ WITHDRAWN ], i have to say. but i’ve also seen you around being really [ LOYAL], especially when you get called a [ THE DESPONDENT ]. so i totally get it – everyone has their bad days ! how’s it been, by the way, working as a [ LANDSCAPER ] at just [ TWENTY NINE ] years old ? i hope it’s been good – you were so excited to start there ! hopefully they didn’t ask about [ AFTER AN ACCIDENT AT WAR HE WAS THE ONLY SURVIVOR, HE SUFFERED MAJOR INJURIES BUT WHEN HE GOT BACK HE FOUND OUT THAT THE MEDIA PICKED UP HIS STORY AND PEOPLE THINK THE MISSION HE SURVIVED SHOULD HAVE BEEN A SURE THING. BUT INSTEAD HE WAS THE ONLY ONE TO WALK AWAY. HE’S HIDING IN GLORY VALLEY ]. but i promise i’ll keep that between us.

tw: blind/deaf, war, ptsd

GENERAL INFORMATION.

full name clyde shaw

alias shaw

age twenty-nine

date of birth august 19

place of birth pheonix, arizona

zodiac leo

gender cismale

nationality korean/american

religion non-practicing catholic

orientation straight

relationship status single

PHYSICAL ATTRIBUTES.

face claim charles melton

height 6′1′’

weight 172 lbs

hair color black

eye color brown

voice claim charles melton

tattoos joker playing card on sholder

distinguishing marks scars on the side of face and ear, down leg, arm. he has very deep scars from the war.

outfit/clothing style anything really. doesn’t care for appearance

BACKGROUND INFORMATION.

hometown pheonix

current residence

past residences nevada

spoken languages english, mexican, german, ASL, korean

financial status lower

education level high school, community college

occupation landscaper

B I O:

his mother was an exotic dancer in pheonix butshe started in korea and his father was a product of a loss of casualty at war. it his the family hard but that didn’t stop his precious mother for making just enough money to get her son across the border to live his life in america,when he grew old enough he just moved out to live with a family friend, rodrigo and his wife cassandra. away from his mother and younger sister who he didn’t even know how to connect with; whether it be the age difference or just how different they were.

he did his mother proud, getting passing grades in school, not letting the hard life of being alone get to him he had friends, went to parties. he was a typical boy, and grew into a strong and very independent young man.

at nineteen he felt the need to fight for the country, just as his father did to fight in the war. and he was sent off to climb the ranks until he had face the ultimate hurtle. he and his team were sent out to an unmarked city, there to make grounds and start a set up for their next ground camp. only it was littered with landmines and he made the wrong step sending he and his team blasting into the air. he lost great soldiers and would never forget the looks on their faces as he tried to save each one.

through the shock of the explosion though clyde didn’t realize how hurt he had gotten. not until he passed out and woke up in a hospital back in nevada. they told him to take things calm. to take in the new surroundings as they came to him; only, not all of them did.

in the explosion he had lost hearing and sight on the left side of his body, the explosion destroyed his ears, left him with a limp, and he was smacked dead in the face by shrapnel leaving a scar and such damaged tissue they had to remove his eye. he wears a glass one now but the scaring has been hard for him to get over. (rodrigo calls him the phantom of the opera when he wants to piss clyde off.)

it was in the hospital after waking up from the explosion that he realized something strange. he woke up with a flash; camera men swormed him daily for being the only survivor in the accident. he was depressed and overwhelmed and needed to escape if he wanted to heal; and dealing not only with trying to live with a healing body and a broken one at that the male walked out of a hospital not in nevada as he had thought. no, he stumbled out of the doors and made his way to gory valley where he hides off of the media. only now not only is he the only survivor, but they found out that the mission was supposed to be a one and done, only something happened that no one can figure out and they think clyde is behind it. now he really is trying to hide from the people who hate him.

he has had to deal with 78% of his hearing taken from him and 50% of sight. along with his mental breaks of PTSD, depression, and survival’s guilt.

M O R E

physical training was hell for him. he refused help and grew angry with himself for letting himself make such a huge mistake after all the training he went through. but worse of all he blames himself for the solders who didn’t make it home.

he walks with a limp but tries to hide it no matter how badly it may hurt him some days.

he may be angry at himself but just as he pushed himself not to let the pain get to him as a child he tries to be positive; still kind to people and as helpful as he can be. he never wants to be a burden on others so even though he constantly wants to help others he refuses any help for himself.

he picked up gardening as a form of therapy and even if he’s not the best he does have a pretty decent collection of herbs he grows in a soap box and a few house plants

when he arrived to glory valley he joined a program to get a guide dog, the rush of the city was new to him so he needed to get a little help as much as he didn’t want to admit it.

he acts like his dog isn’t that big of help but honestly he loves he loves him more than anything. he is a GOLDENDOODLE almost complete with training that he named CHINO

as landscaper he takes his job seriously

#about #intro #please DM me if you want ant connections or plots

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hysteriium · 5 years ago

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Dazzling Devil;

(A/N): I made this for @jokerfleckk because she had an amazing idea and I couldn’t resist???? Also just want to say @pennyship is my BABE AND I LOVE HER SM FOR GOING OVER THIS BEFORE I POSTED!

Summary: Literally rewrote the whole Murray sequence lol rip.

Pairing: Joker x reader

Warnings: smutty themes (not entirely), violence, swearing!

////

Anxiously, you tugged at the threading of your dress. The loose strings which, although hidden for the most part, twisted between your relentless digits, acting as an escape from the simmering pressure of your surroundings. Though, as the enthusiastic, high-spirited melody of the live band, to your right, resonated in one explosive blow, this momentary retreat was short-lived.

“We’re back with our guest, Dr. (L/n)!”

His introduction speedily brought you back to reality, and you promptly dropped the hem of your dress, eyes snapping towards him.

“Now!” Murray paused, immediately, turning to you.

His expression was beaming as he leaned forward in his chair, “you gotta see our next guest for yourself. Will you stick around? Maybe you can help, I’m pretty sure he could use a doctor.”

“Oh,” you paused, brows furrowing, “does he have sexual problems?”

“He looks like he’s got a lot of problems.” Murray retorted, and you internally cringed at his mocking tone. You weren’t sure who his next ‘guest’ was, though if what Murray said was in some way true, you couldn’t imagine being ridiculed for it made the mystery guest very happy.

The audience, as always, laughed.

“You’ll see,” he grinned, pointing towards one of the monitors.

“Play the clip!”

Everyone, the audience included, watched as the monitor transitioned from Murray to a man on stage. In what you assumed was provoked by his nervousness, sweat coated his forehead, trailing down his face.

It quickly became apparent that the man had pseudobulbar affect, a condition while you knew of, weren’t particularly acquainted with – your field mainly contrived of sex therapy.

You watched, sadly entranced, as his hands desperately clenched at his throat, trying to force his planned jokes out, only for a flurry of broken phrases to wryly pass his lips. Composing himself appeared to be an arduous task, and the dread that built up at the sight of those making fun of him, of those laughing, neared its peak. The sensation was a prominent discomfort in your gut; his suffering was deemed as a hilarity – an oddity to poke fun at – and you were the only one who empathised; who understood the anguish lost in the gloss of his eyes. Murray was wrong for making fun of this man, wrong for making fun of someone who had a condition.

As you gazed at the audience’s thundering hysterics in shame – reflecting on the filth Gotham had become, the video ended shortly after. Murray’s voice returned once more.

“Okay, you may have seen that clip of our next guest when we first played it two weeks ago. Now before he comes out, I just want to say that we’re all heartbroken and sensitive to what’s going on here in the city. But, honestly, I think we’re in need of a good laugh, and this is how he wanted to come out. So, please welcome, Joker!”

On cue, the audience prompts flashed, begging for applause. The public complied and projected their excitement while the band played its specific introductory piece.

A man strutted on stage, and an abundance of adjectives filled your mind. ‘Colourful’ had been one among the heavy flow, ‘confident’ was another and following short behind, dare you say, ‘magnetic.’

Within nanoseconds, your eyes had snapped to the male, drinking in his features. Even though they were hidden behind a thick coat of white greasepaint, as well as the ever so widespread symbolism of the clownish makeup, it wasn’t hard for you to conclude that the man who prowled his way on stage in an ostentatious manner, like a lion, was damn near gorgeous. The clip truly hadn’t done him justice.

‘Joker’ as Murray had called him, was a name which failed to relinquish its robust hold on your thoughts; a metronome – repetitious and in tune.

With a certain finesse, the man, after flicking his cigarette behind him uncaringly, propelled himself to his right in a series of twirls. His striking pine green hair floated behind him, and the carmine jacket followed similarly.

Joker’s entrance secretly had you squirming in your seat.

It was something you hated to admit, let alone acknowledge. You barely knew the guy – yet there was something about him that had you aching for more. Maybe it was the air of danger which stuck to him like a potent kind of glue, fabricating his demeanour. Or perhaps it was how those frozen eyes snapped towards you; harsh and determined, forcing you to scramble up from your seat.

Shit, maybe you needed a doctor.

You didn’t have time to dwell on it because once he halted the rhythmic snapping of his fingers and shook Murray’s hand, he strode right for you. The flickering twitch of his right eyebrow, complemented with his heart-stopping grin, was the last visible feature of his face as he grabbed your own with large, delicate hands.

When he so unexpectedly pressed his painted lips to yours, you glaciated. Slender were his digits, majority sliding behind your ear, while his ring and pinky pressed up against the distinctive bone of your cheeks. His thumbs occasionally stroked the skin of your neck obliging a deep, thrilling, full-bodied shiver.

Immediately, the peculiar tang of his face paint flooded your senses, and this only worsened when you kissed back. Eyes long since fluttered shut, you felt his surprise when you responded, a gentle vibration – a grunt – tingling against your lips. The fury of the crowd’s applause, wolf whistles and shouts included, were lost on you as you focused on the softness of Joker’s lips, his rhythm slow and sensual, taking their time to sync with yours.

When he suddenly pulled you closer to him, a sultry growl left his lips; a noise riddled with an enticing hunger. No longer were those hands at your chin, they had slithered down your body, seizing your waist with an abrasive squeeze.

To say your body was on fire was an understatement.

You’re unsure as to whether Joker had noticed the applause dramatically stop at his bold movements, the room worryingly silent except for the occasional awkward cough. To this, you were conscious of, very much so, but the lingering exhilaration coursing through you like a fever – at the prospect of millions of eyes watching the two of you clinging to each other – had you grinding against him. It was a move equally as brazen, though one he was equivalently pleased at; reciprocating. As he pushed up against you, a muffled moan left your stained lips, swollen, as you felt the outline of his stiffened cock in his trousers. You were completely, and utterly, devoid of shame.

What you were both unaware of, however, were the producers signing desperately to cut the show. Many, too shocked, upon weirded out to do so, had missed the infamous ‘t’ signal, hypnotised by the bizarre scene ahead.

Fuck you, Murray.

When you opened your mouth a little wider, Joker, not missing a beat slid his tongue past, hardly asking permission. Well and truly, the slickness between your legs had built up, and you were hyper-aware of it pooling in your panties. Giddiness was hardly the feeling you would associate with your shared moment, more accurately a carnal lust; a need displayed in the fervid movement of your leg and how it moved against his hip. The very same hands which were once gentle, eagerly maneuvered to your thigh, supporting the limb. Then, without warning – the other.

The swift movement had you breaking away from the man – only for a second – with a titter. Furious steps, which sounded more like stumbles, filled the silent room, then a frantic voice.

“We’ll be right back folks!”

At this, Joker, with a dramatic roll of his eyes, pulled away to look at the hollering mystery man. His make up was smudged beyond belief – namely his lips, though his sinful grin seemed to be something that couldn’t be rubbed off. When he directed his attention back to you, his tongue trailed over his teeth, placing you down. With a dangerous glint in his eye, he turned towards the audience, adjusting his waistcoat and his lapels.

“Y-you – uh – alright...doctor?” Murray asked you, bewildered.

You refused to look at Murray, while you were red-faced and fidgety, it was hardly because you were embarrassed.

Joker’s eyes hadn’t left yours as his nose wrinkled in laughter.

////

If you knew of the events which would inevitably transpire that night, there would have been a small part of you that wished you never met Joker. That you were never given the opportunity to swallow the pill that so willingly established your addiction. He was unlike any man you had met before.

Wild, eccentric, unafraid.

Mysterious.

Curiosity killed the cat, however, and before you knew it, you were at Joker’s side. The havoc of the studio was nothing compared to the blaze raging within his eyes. He was chaos, beauty and grace – a madman all wrapped into one.

His hand reached out to yours, Murray’s bloodied corpse an afterthought. The Joker, who had thrown the gun somewhere, a move similar to the cigarette he had tossed prior, was void of concern. While you had been shocked at the violent move, Murray’s blood splattering across your dress, a morbid interest had you reach out for him.

His exuberance, almost child-like, heightened when you interlaced your hands together. Yet to depart from the camera’s view, he pulled you up from your seat and spun you around, then, finally dipped you. His hands had once again snaked your waist. His lips were mere centimetres from yours as his breath, warm, tingled against yours; teasing. You wanted to kiss them again – badly – and you knew he could tell from the wicked grin contorting his face.

Oh, how absolutely enthralled you were.

“Burn Gotham with me,” he whispered.

It was almost comedic. The way that poisonous phrase was uttered like it had in fact been something so innocuous, the way his eyes glistened with a newfound hope; hell, you would have thought he had asked you to prom.

Perhaps a demagogue, perhaps not; what you did know was that he had changed Gotham. Propelled it into chaos with the deaths of those three men. Tension had been building up for God knew how long, but he had been the catalyst for the end. Gotham had finally reached its boiling point.

Without thinking, you breathed an agreement.

And, at that moment, you had sold your soul.

To the dazzling devil.

#joker x reader #joaquin phoenix joker #joker 2019 #joker imagine #joker x you #the joker x reader #dc x reader #dc #joker headcannons #my writing #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck #arthur fleck imagine

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darknessisafriend · 5 years ago

Text

Since the beginning

Pairing: Arthur/Joker x Reader

Warning: rough sex, bloodplay and very long fic XD

Prompt: Where the Reader has been in a relationship since before his decent into madness and she is at the apartment when Arthur is on the Murray Franklin Show. She watches the whole thing and is terrified, too scared to even move. When she does find the strength, she decides to pack everything and get the hell out of Dodge. Then, as she finishes and is getting ready to leave, Arthur comes home. He manages to escape the cops and comes back to get her? He's still post-car accident. He has blood all over and his makeup still on. Arthur is all creepy and everything as he tries to get the reader to go with him, saying "you love me, don't you?" And all that shit. In the end, the reader submits, and they have rough-ish sex?

You have more empathy than most people, not very talkative, introvert and nervous in crowded places, you always saw details and noticed thing others didn´t see. The homeless grandma, trying to sell little knitted objects to have food, a warm and safe place to spend the night; the sexually harassed student in the subway not daring to move or say anything, that nobody see or feign not to see. You often thought that it´s probably because people don´t see you either that you notice these details.

You had recently graduated from university but you couldn´t find a job related to your background, and you had your student loan to pay back. You wondered, `what’s the point of studying for this kind of result? ´, so you took the first job you found, cashier at a porn cinema. Most of the time it was ok, but as you worked on the night shift, you could meet pervs, asking you to do all sorts of things as if working at a porn cinema included prostitution; you didn´t feel safe either when your shift ended at 5:00 am, it was still dark outside, most of the streets were desert, except for some criminals, you were just lucky nothing had happened to you yet.

You met Arthur in the streets, the day when he got beaten up; you were passing by, going to work. Your boss had asked you to do extra hours, you couldn´t refuse it, you will be able to buy yourself warm clothes for winter. It was going to be quite a long day; it was around 3pm when you approached from your place of work. You were looking to the ground while walking, lost in your thoughts. Suddenly on your left your heard muffled noises, to realize it sounded like a mix of punches and groans. As you turned you head in the direction of the sounds, you saw a group of kids running, leaving someone lying still on the floor. `Shit´ you thought as you started to walk rapidly towards the victim. The man was dressed as a clown, breathing rapidly, curved into a ball, his sign broken into pieces. He slowly moved onto his back, making his prank flower throw a spurt of water, as if he was trying to cheer himself up. He quailed as he saw you approaching; he probably expected another series of beating. Poor man, you crouch down, your hands in front of you.

“I mean no harm” you told him as softly as you could, giving him a reassuring smile.

“I´m Y/N, what´s your name?” you asked him, he looked at you in the eyes, like you were an alien, what happened to him to end up so surprised by such question?

“I´m Ar…Arthur …” he stuttered; his voice broken. He sounded like such a sweet guy. You could feel anger rise in your chest, why did everyone were so mean these days? But now wasn’t the time to get pissed.

“Arthur, are you okay? Can you move?” you asked him, extending your hand for him to take. He seemed to hesitate as if it was another sick joke. You gave him an encouraging smile. He gently took your hand, you squeezed it reassuringly.

“I´m alright” he answered, still looking at you, wonder filling his blue eyes, they were one of the most beautiful you had ever seen. You helped him stand up, he rolled his right shoulder, he probably took a heavy punch there, and one of his legs seemed to hurt him as well. He was about to bend to reach the pieces of his sign, you were faster than him.

“No, don’t worry, I´ll pick it up for you” you added, gathering them, and giving them to Arthur. He was throwing you quick glances.

“Thank you, Y/N, I´m… I´m sorry to bother you…” he said with a guilty tone, looking on the ground. You automatically reach for his gloved hand.

“You didn’t! Wasn´t gonna leave you like this. Nobody deserves to be treated like that, believe me” You said with a smile. He seemed awestruck; your heart skipped a beat as a small shy smile formed on his lips. You will arrive late at work this day but it didn´t matter, for the first time you had met love.

And it was love at first sight. Only a few days after meeting him, you were dating. You liked your relationship with him, the both of you took things slow, there was not rush, for now kisses, cuddles and holding hands was all you needed from each other. Arthur, was perfect for you, he was not afraid to have fun, just like you; it was nice to share this with someone, because most of your friends and family would often tell you to stop having fun the way you did because `it´s not of your age anymore, dreaming is for children not adults´. Your imagination was the only place where you were happy, until Arthur entered your life.

His life wasn´t easy either, worse than yours, but you were there to support him, make him smile and laugh; laugh of fun and joy unlike his condition which was painful and caused him to be rejected even more by society. When he had one of those laughter outbreaks, you would hold him, caressing his back, whispering soothing words in his ear. You were doing your best to share moments with him, comfort him after a bad day where people would be rude to him, making fun of him.

“I hope my death makes more cents than my life” you had read out loud one day, as you leaned over his shoulder, you chuckled, wrapping your arms around him, your chin resting on his shoulder, kissing his jaw. “I like that one, but please don´t die too soon”, you added, it made him smile, he kissed your hand “As long as you love me, no chance” he had answered sweetly.

Days went on happily. One day, as he came back from work, he had told you he carried a gun with him, he knew he wasn’t supposed to but a colleague of his, Randall, had insisted, telling him it was essential to keep him safe. It was a nice gesture of him, it could at least serve a dissuasion if some thugs were to attack Arthur.

And unfortunately, you didn’t have much time to see each other during the week as you mostly worked at night, but you did your best. Over the weeks, you started to bring some of your belongings to his apartment to spend more time with him. You would spend your day sleeping on his couch, to be woken up by his kisses as he came back from work and you had to start your night shift. Despite his exhaustion, he always insisted on escorting you to work to make sure you were safe. To this point, you could say that you were living with him more than at your home. His mother Penny was very nice but very sick. And Arthur had so much weight on his shoulders, sacrificing his own health for her, so when you could, you insisted on helping them financially. Sometimes you would accompany him to watch stand-up comedy and honestly you didn’t understand how people could laugh to such sexist and stupid jokes, it was nothing like Arthur’s dark and sophisticated humor, which you absolutely loved.

Despite the happy moments you shared with him, life continued to push him down. Just like this day you’d remember your entire life. He left for work, all excited because his gig was to happen in a children hospital, he loved kids so much, and they loved him too, never mocked him in anyway. You had a day off, staying at your flat, preparing yourself for a date night with him. However, when he came knocking at your door that night, he was panting, his nose bleeding, his hair disheveled. He had told you everything, how he got fired whereas he didn’t do anything wrong but carry something to protect himself; then how he got beaten up by those assholes, and he shot them. It was self-defense, these jerks only got what they deserved, you had told Arthur. He had come to you, knowing you’d be there for him. You will cover him, and support him. It was also the night were the both of you made love for the first time, as a sign of trust and love you had for each other.

You learned how to hate Wayne, when the next day, all he had to say was that the less fortunate people in this city, were stupid, not able to make decisions of their own, clowns that needed guidance from some fucking rich guy like him. It made you happy that people were reacting to this and were supporting Arthur, maybe that’s what Gotham’s need after all.

Still, since that day, Arthur changed, he was different; it felt like he wasn’t sharing everything with you. One night, he came back from therapy more upset than usual, angry even. “Arthur, you know you can talk to me, right?”, but that night, he didn’t.

Life went back to normal. He had decided to do his first stand up comedy, you wouldn’t miss for any reason. He had entered the stage smiling, but the laughter attack came, you just wanted to stand up and soothe him, but you knew he wouldn’t want that, because he wants to perform; he just had to get through this outbreak first. So, you smiled encouragingly, hoping that between his gasps for air, he would see you and that it would help him. And he did, it gave him the strength to push past his nervousness, and he was good, very good, each of his jokes made you laugh, even though you knew them by heart. As he finished the show, and people were clapping, you hurried backstage, and greeted him with a passionate kiss.

“I’m so proud of you, you were the best” you had told him between kisses. The lovemaking after that had been incredible, passionate; Arthur was becoming more confident taking the lead, you liked it and did not hesitate to tell him how good he was. You probably had an impact for sure, but you didn’t know he wasn’t taking his medication anymore and that had deeper impact on him. The following days he continued his show every night, despite how much you wanted to be there you couldn’t, still working at night.

One particular day, you went to see him and Penny, but he wasn’t there, and his mother was in a worst emotional state than usual, cops were there, what was going on? and then everything happened fast, Arthur was still missing. Until the ambulance came.

As the doctors took Penny to reanimation, you were waiting outside with Arthur; he was pacing back and forth, anxious.

“Arthur! Come sit here please.” He seemed to come out of his trance, and sat next to you, you passed one arm around his shoulders.

“She´s gonna be alright, they´re going to take good care of her.”

As they brought her in a room, the doctors explained she had a stroke, the both of you stayed by her side.

“Arthur, where were you? What happened? Looked like a fight happened there” You asked him, keeping your voice down, he looked to the opposite of you.

“Nothin´, just went for a walk.” He answered tiredly.

“Arthur…why aren´t you telling me the truth? You´re lucky that I was passing by to talk to you, I found her unconscious with those cops…”

“I don´t wanna talk about it Y/N…” his tone final, you sighed, you felt hurt that he didn´t trust you enough to share whatever happened.

“I´m gonna get a coffee, want one?” you asked him, standing up, he nodded, you gave him a kiss on his temple and went to the cafeteria.

The following days got worse, you just felt Arthur slip away from you, and you simply didn´t know what to do, except to be there for him. When Penny died you were there too, for the burial he wore a red costume, smoking a cigarette; that´s when you saw him smile in front of the grave, a big smile, this disturbed you, was it some kind of nervous reaction? Then, he flicked the cigarette onto the tomb making you gasp.

“Good, now let´s get out of here.” He said on a joyful tone, walking away, he is showing no signs of caring about his mother´s death, he looks happy.

“What´s wrong with you?!” you exclaimed, maybe it was his way of coping with the shock of her death, but it wasn´t a reason to show her disrespect.

“Nothing´s wrong with me!” he yelled, pointing a finger at you. You froze; it was the first time that he raised his voice on you.

“I´ll just leave you alone for now. You know where to find me…” You answered, swallowing down, trying to suppress the tears prickling into your eyes, it´s probably for the best that you give him some space. He doesn´t even try to go after you. So, you went back to your place, `I guess I´ll be spending the rest of the week alone…´.

You were truly worried for him, he was behaving strange for the past weeks, and for some reason he refused to open up to you; you feared that he was really going crazy and that he would end up harming himself.

Two days passed, without any news from him, this was eating you up. You were so used to his presence. Today you had to go outside to run some errands. As you opened the door, you spotted something on the floor, a bunch of synthetic flowers and an envelope. You instantly recognized it was from Arthur, he had showed you his magic tricks where he would pull out these flowers. This made you smile; you took both item and retreated back in your apartment, excited to read the letter.

My love,

I´m sorry for my behavior last day,

Please be at my flat for Murray Franklin show, you will watch me on TV, I was invited!

You´re going to like it, it´s going to be so much fun!

Never forget that I love you,

Arthur

Your excitement slightly came down when you finished reading the letter. You had seen the video, you were with him when Murray played his video on TV and mocked him. Arthur was devastated this day, he cried for hours, the only thing that made him happy had betrayed him. If he was going there naively, thinking that people will be nice to him or that Murray will show him sympathy for everything that has happened to him in the past few weeks, he was wrong. If only you had money to afford a ticket for the show, you would have joined him right away. You prepared yourself to go to his place, there was 2 hours left before the show, you had time to buy what you needed to cook dinner, he surely will need it after the show.

On the way to his place, you felt nervous, people outside were getting excited, wearing clown mask or paint, felt like seeing Arthur´s `Carnival´ clown on every face. You totally supported this upbringing, you simply hoped this wouldn´t end in a blood bath, you didn´t want anyone to be killed, this could not legitimate your fight.

As you entered his apartment, you realized that it was a mess, for some reason, the food and compartments of the fridge were thrown out. You noticed that the doorframe of the living room was damaged like something had violently hit it, several times. You assumed that he had been very disturbed by his mother’s death and he took out his anger and helplessness on the flat itself.

You hoped that being at his place will enable the two of you to talk at open hearts, you wanted to know how he felt, what happened…

As you finished setting the table, you sat legs crossed on the couch, wrapped in Arthur plaid, holding a mug of hot cocoa. You were feeling a mix of excitement and pride to see your lover on this show, it was his dream after all; but you also felt scared because knew that he was certainly invited for the wrong reasons, and this was going to break him even more.

The protest was getting stronger outside, you could hear people screaming, and chanting slogans; from time to time you were hearing firecrackers exploding, and well you hoped it was firecrackers.

“You gotta see our next guest…” that’s Arthur! He was going to appear on TV!

“I’m pretty sure this guy could use a doc”. You winced at his mockery, Arthur wasn’t even there that they were already making fun of him. To make things worse they showed the video again, “bastards, you’re only showing his laughter attack.” You said to the TV already irritated. Your mind goes to your lover watching this backstage…

“Joker!” You hear Murray calling. A figure comes out dancing, that’s Arthur?! He’s spiraling, confident, shaking the hand of Murray like he sees him every day. ‘Why is he wearing his makeup?’ He has a very flashing costume similar to the one he had for Penny’s burial. You had to admit that it suit him very well, it reflected his personality. Then he kisses the doctor, ‘wait what!?’, you can’t believe it your eyes, almost dropping your mug, it’s so passionate and…provocative, the crowd is cheering.

As he sits down, the camera zooms on his face, he is beautiful like this, he even looks younger; despite the weirdness of the situation, you can’t help but feel pride at knowing him, he is being so brave in this moment. He pauses, Murray asks him if his ok “Yeah, this is exactly how I imagined it”. You smile at this, it was his dream to be invited on the show.

The interview starts, Murray refers to his look, Arthur cleverly answers almost mocking himself “I’m just trying to make people laugh”

“And how’s that going for you” replies Murray mockingly making the public laugh, Arthur’s reaction was also laugh like one of those he has during a laughter attack, but it feels forced, ‘was he mocking himself?’ you wondered, slightly frowning at the scene.

“Wanna tell us a joke?” the public is cheering “Yeaah?” ask Arthur, you can tell he’s excited, he has a bright smile, he’s even playful as he gets out his book of jokes, now was the time to show them his talent.

“You got a book? A book of jokes” the public his laughing, ‘fucker’ Arthur goes through the pages, he seems lost in it “Take your time got all night” another mockery from Murray.

“Ok, here’s one, knock knock.” He’s smiling like he’s eager to hear people laugh at his joke.

“And you had to look that up?” comments Murray, the public and guest burst into laughing, mocking him once again, you find yourself pleading for them to stop this free nastiness. The smile Arthur had since the beginning faded, his mask of confidence is cracking, he adds “I wanted to get it right”, you are starting to feel uncomfortable, how can people watch this and mock his situation.

“Knock, knock” repeats Arthur. “Who’s there?” asks Murray.

“It’s the police mam, your son has been hit by a drunk driver, he’s dead” Finishes Arthur, chuckling, the public is outraged, you’re surprised, you never heard this one and for once, it wasn’t funny.

Arthur apologizes “Yeah, I’m sorry it’s just, you know it’s been a rough few weeks Murray”, he chuckles again, you can tell it’s nervous.

“Ever since…I killed those 3 Wall Street guys” he says looking at the crowd, you froze, why is he confessing! ‘He didn’t plan on coming back home’ you start thinking, maybe all that happened is too much and he wants end it, you see it in his eye, he ‘s speaking like it’s something surreal that happened, you start bouncing your leg, ashamed that you weren’t enough to help him get through all this.

“There’s not punchline, it’s not a joke” the public is dead silent.

“You’re serious aren’t you, you’re telling you killed these 3 young men on the subway? And why should we believe you?” investigates Murray, ‘why aren’t they stopping the live?’ you wonder.

“I got nothing left to lose…nothing can hurt me anymore… my life is nothing but a comedy” he said smiling, but you can tell by his eyes and the way he moves that he is suffering, not far from crying actually, you pinch your lips together, your eyes watering ‘what about me?’.

“Let me get this straight, you think killing those guys is funny?” asks Murray.

“I do, and I’m tired of pretending it’s not, comedy is subjective Murray, you know what they say ‘all of you, the systems that knows so much, you decide what’s right or wrong, the same way you decide what’s funne-eh! or not” You can feel Arthur growing tired of hearing about those guys, those exposed as martyrs whereas they were the criminals who abused him. You know he’s right.

“Ok…I think, I might understand you did this to…start a movement, to become a symbol?”

Arthur scoffed “Come on Murray, do I look like the kind of clown to start a movement? I killed those guys because they were awful” he clenches his jaw. ‘tell them Arthur, tell them what they did to you!’

“Everybody is awful these days, it’s enough to make anyone crazy” he sounds bitter, eyes filled with hate.

“Ok, that’s it, so you’re crazy, that’s your defense? For killing 3 young men?” Arthur smiles again.

“No, they couldn’t carry a tune to save their lives” he says mockingly, somehow doing a reference how people treated him because they don’t like his jokes. The crowd gasps. Arthur lets out an exasperated moan “Oooh, why is everyone so upset about these guys. If it was me dying on the sidewalk, you’d walk right over me! I pass you everyday you don’t notice me! But these guys because, what Thomas Wayne would cry about them on TV!” He is starting to lose his temper; his eyes are wet.

“You have problem with Thomas Wayne?” Murray keeps pushing him.

“Yes, I do…have you seen what it’s like out there MurRAY? Do you actually leave the studio? Everybody just yells and scream at each other, nobody is civil anymore! Nobody thinks what it’s like to be the other guy…you think that men like Thomas Wayne ever think what it’s like to be someone like me? To be somebody but themselves? They don’t! They think we’ll just sit there and take it like good little boys! That we won’t werewolf and go wild!” Adds Arthur angrily. Despite being dead worried for him, you can’t help but nod, because it’s what’s happens every goddamn day of your life.

“You finished? I mean there’s so much self-pity Arthur, you sound like you’re making an excuse for killing those young men, not everybody and I’ll tell you this not everyone is awful.” You huffed, probably the only smart thing Murray said today. Arthur shot him a deadly glare, squeezing his lips together, he’s was betrayed by Murray, he hated him now.

“You’re awful Murray”

“Me? I’m awful? Yeah and how am I awful?” was Murray so stupid that he didn’t realize the harm he’s done?!

“Playing my video, inviting me on the show, you just wanted to make fun of me, you’re just like the rest of them.” Arthur growled, keeping eye contact with the host.

“You don’t know the first thing about me pal, look what happened because of what you did, what it lead to, there are riots out there, two police men are in critical condition, someone was killed today” You took a deep breath, Murray was being way too provocative right now, he shouldn’t, you feel Arthur is close to break, you feel he could do anything; he laughs.

“Someone was killed today because of what you did” Joker scratched the back of his head, you know he does that when he’s under strong stress.

“I know! How about another joke Murray?” ‘Shit, he’s not gonna make it’

“What do you get, when you cross, a mentally ill loner, with a society that abandons him and treats him LIKE TRASH! I’LL TELL YOU WHAT YOU GET!” his voice broke making you tear up, “YOU GET WHAT YOU FUCKING DESERVE!”.

Then, there’s a loud bang, it takes you several seconds to realize what just happened, he shot Murray, he’s bouncing his legs, he laughs, you understood better than anyone else how Arthur felt but why did he killed him, it’s not, it can’t be the solution! Right? He gets up and shoots him once again, this makes your blood run cold, you don’t recognize the man you love, your Arthur. He comes towards the camera, looking directly into it “Goodnight…and always remember, that’s…” the show cuts.

You lay your head on the back of the couch, passing a hand though your hair. You feel like shit, for being the closest person to him and not having been able to protect him ‘no I wasn’t part of this, I didn’t make him like this, fuck that’s my fault’.

You stayed in front of the TV for what seemed an eternity, everything had happened so fast, you are staring into emptiness. What now? You had just witnessed the person you cared the most about, give into madness, kill someone out of anger; this wasn’t self-defense anymore. He had become uncontrollable. You’re blaming it all on yourself, your breathing is starting to become frantic, and you feel a panic attack rising, kicking the plaid out of your shoulders, you try to calm yourself ‘I’m not worthy of him I failed him’ it’s so hard to breath, you can only hear the heavy beats of your heart ‘why did I leave him alone, I should have skipped work, been there for him, even if he didn’t want me to’. Then a darker thought crosses your mind ‘Is he going to kill me because I didn’t see how bad he was doing? he loves me right?’ you want to say yes but your instinct is screaming the contrary ‘what if he told me to come here to make it easier for him to kill me?’

“I have to leave.” You to say to yourself. You quickly got up, looking around. You need to pack up things you had brought here, the police doesn’t have to know.

You hear in the background the news repeating the same thing over and over again, Arthur heartbreaking words, that he was arrested.

You enter the bedroom, looking for a book you gave to Penny. From the corner of your eyes you spotted one of Arthur´s cardigan, you took it in your trembling hands, burying your head in it, inhaling his scent; you burst into tears, hugging the piece of clothing. You love him so much, now you lost him. Taking the cardigan with you, tears continue to run freely as you gather your things. You go back to the living room, to get some of your clothes in the closet.

“What the…!” you scream, falling to the floor. In front of you lies the corpse of a man, a pair of scissors in his eye, blood everywhere, you frantically crawl away from this horror `I have to get out of here! ´, getting back up you take your bags, and run to the door.

As you opened the door, you came face to face with him, `shit he´s supposed to be under arrest! ´. He was panting like he ran to come here and get you, drops of sweat were prickling on his temples. The first thing you see is blood, his face covered by his own blood coming from the gash on his forehead and his mouth, the painted smile is different, darker, you realized it´s made with his blood. He laughs openly, pupils dilated, he´s excited like a kid on a fair.

“Wasn´t I amazing?! Y/N come, see outside!” He reaches for your hand, you take a few steps back, you´re searching his eyes, trying to find Arthur in this man, you´re scared, your heart beats widely. His laugh dies immediately, he doesn´t understand, why aren´t you jumping in his arms? Then, he sees the bags you’re holding, were you leaving him!?

“Y/N what are you doing?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous. He walks inside, closing the door and leaning on it. You were trapped.

“Arthur…there´s…there´s a dead body in the closet…” you say with a trembling voice, finding the strength to look at him in the eyes, he chuckles passing a hand through his green locks, marching to you.

“Yep, that´s Randall, I wasn´t gonna leave him the middle of the room, could have used your help to move him by way.” You couldn´t believe it. Was that the only thing that bothered him?

“That´s all you have to say? You can´t just kill…Arthur you can´t do that!” you whimpered frantically agitating your hands around.

“Oh, come on Y/N you´re freaking out, besides he deserved it” he muttered, pouting like a child being scolded. You throw your hands in the air and let out an exasperated noise, tears started to run down on your face again, this was too much to handle.

“Just let me go please.” You pleaded softly. To this, his head abruptly shot back up.

“No, you´re not leaving me…you´re not leaving me!” he groaned almost shouting. He angrily took out a cigarette, lighting it and taking a quick drag. He returned his attention to you, pointing his cigarette at you.

“You love me don´t you?” this destabilize you, you weren’t expecting this question. Still you already knew the answer.

“I do Arthur b…”

“But what? You loved me out of pity, to satisfy your need to help those beneath you? You seemed to like me recently! But no, you actually prefer poor pathetic Arthur huh!” he cut you off, losing his temper. His words hurt you, what if he was right, no he wasn’t…

“I didn’t mean for this to happen!” you whined. If only you could fix him, bring back the man you knew. “We didn´t have much but we still had something” you add, wiping away the wetness of your face with the back of your sleeve.

“I´m doing this for you, wouldn´t you want to be free, not struggle, have more than this?” he asserted, looking at you intensely. You don’t answer, looking at your feet, of course you would like it.

“Don´t you want me to be happy, don´t you want us to be happy?” he prompted irritably. You shake your head “Of course I want you to be happy, but killing like this is not…”

“Don´t say that, you covered me for those 3 guys remember? what did you say? `Assholes like them deserve to be shot´. The others hurt me too, I am the victim here.” His voice breaking, his eyes watery, he’s standing at arm’s length to you. You frown, you don’t know what to say, because he’s making sense…

“Tell me how it made you feel hmm?” he pushed, circling around you.

“Proud…” you fretted, still not meeting his eyes.

“Louder Y/N” you startled at his raised voice.

“Proud! You were finally fighting back against the world.” You add, shivering at your own confession. You heard him chuckle as he came to stand in front of you, slightly bending to meet your lowered head.

“You said Randall deserved to die for what he did to me” he dramatically gesture his arms in the direction of the closet. “You did well, there’s nothing wrong with that baby…you said Murray, didn´t have the right to mock me, that you hoped something bad happened to him, wish granted…” he claimed. You don´t move, trembling, you don´t dare to look at him in the eyes, he is so right, you’re feeling angry, how could you be so blind?

“Don’t act so shocked, I know you liked it, this whole show your giving me, it´s a comedy, you´re just too scared to admit it, to become what you´ve always been, deep down you were like this since the beginning, you were just suppressing it.”

He pushes you strongly against the wall, arms next to your head, blocking any chance of escape. He´s very close to you, his nose brushing against yours.

“Tell me you didn´t like to see me shoot Murray” He seized your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. He’s grinning like he already knows the answer. He doesn´t need to know that right now, so you try to find as much conviction as you can.

“I hated it.” You dared. He chuckles darkly.

“Liar” He purred, leaning in to kiss you. You don´t like what he is saying about you, you feel naked. You bite his lip; licking yours, you taste his blood, salty, throwing him a dark look. He laughs “oh you, I like it when you´re wild like that, you know what they say, truth will set you free but first it will piss you off.” You answer with a sneer. His face is deadly serious.

“Now…you made me upset Y/N, don´t you deserve to be punished?” He buries his fingers in your hair, this makes you gulp, even though you’re still scared, another feeling emerges in your chest, excitement, anticipation…it´s wrong you shouldn’t feel this…

“I do deserve it Arthur…” his grip on your hair tightens, his eyes growing darker.

“Arthur’s dead, call me Joker.”

“I deserve it…Joker” you repeat, the name feels strange on your tongue. The clown release an excited breath, he’s smiling.

His mouth goes to your neck, nibbling your skin, sucking it to leave hickeys; then his mouth goes right under your ear, his warm breath gives you goosebumps.

“I am going to fuck you. I’m going to fuck you so hard, and it’s going to hurt.” He purrs into your ear, slightly biting your ear lobe, your heartbeat increases.

His other hand slides across your body to go between your legs, caressing you over your clothes, applying more pressure from time to time, you can already feel the need for more rising. And you want to touch him too, your hands go on his torso, he immediately pushes them away, smashing painfully your arm on the wall, blocking your hand above your head.

“Did I say you could touch me?” he groans, he stops touching you. The hand that was in your hair goes to your throat right below your jaw, he squeezes, not much, just enough for you to feel it, his mouth crashes against yours in a painful kiss, his tongue sucking yours. It feels good, being under his mercy, you can taste is blood again, metallic, delectable. You like his passion, his new-found confidence when he kisses you. As he run out of air, panting, his mouth a few inches from yours he orders “Face down on the couch. Now.” He’s dangerous but you want to push it, because you’re starting to like it, you want to see how far it can go, defy him, so you just smile, a sweet smile but your eyes are provocative.

“You’re going to regret that sweetheart.” He chuckles menacing, he yanks you on the couch with a force you never suspected. Before you can react, you’re facing him, he’s onto you now, sitting on your hips, straddling your legs with his, holding your arms above your head with one hand, he kisses your neck again but this time hard, he stops at your most sensitive spot, making you gasp as he increases the pressure of his teeth, a sharp pain spreads in your neck as you realized he’s biting you, you moan, it hurts but you never thought you’d like it this way. You can feel a few drops of blood coming out of the bite, then his tongue, smooth and warm, hungrily licking the liquid, soothing.

Then, he looks at you, laughing loudly, “You like that don’t you”. You can feel blush creep on your cheeks, you want this to continue. You nod to him. Out of his pocket he takes a knife, your breathing increases, wondering what he was going to do with this knife. Still looking at you, he slowly slides the knife under your shirt, the cold of the blade making you jump. He clicks his tongue, ordering you to stay still. The blade continue its way until it reaches the top of your shirt, you feel the tip of the knife tickling your chin; in one sharp motion, Joker pushed the knife back to him, tearing up your cheap clothes. He does the same with your bra but this time he’s almost considerate like a craftsman working on his sculpture.

“So fucking pretty”, he flattered looking down on your exposed breast. Releasing your hands and setting the knife aside, he takes off his jacket and throws it away. Now he slowly opens each button of his shirt, taking pleasure in seeing you hypnotized, your eyes hungry. But impatience is growing in you, you want to play too. As soon as the last button is off, you quickly sat back, taking him by surprise, yanking him beneath you, kissing him hard and messy, caressing his naked torso.

You lift your head looking at him in the eyes, you can tell he’s intrigued. Your hand comes to slowly caress his cheek, a small grin appears on your face as you think about what you’re about to do. Then, you slap him with all the strength you have, he groans ready to return the favor “That´s for pushing me out the other day” you cooed, finishing with a grin. He burst into laughing, you shut him up by smashing your lips against his, his moans muffled in your mouth.

Taking advantage that you´re distracted, he makes the both of you tumble off the couch, your back and head landing hard on the floor, his hands go to your pants, taking it off, you help him by lifting your hips and pushing the clothes out of your legs. You can feel his erection hard against his fabric rubbing along your spot. His hand slides along your body to arrive to clit, he’s being teasing circling around your lips, alternating the pace but never going directly to your soft spot, gosh you hate him right now, you can’t help but move your hips to lead to more satisfaction. “shush, don’t think that I’ll give you satisfaction just yet…”

His mouth goes to your jaw, your chin and never to your mouth, your craving for him to kiss you, feeling his tongue play with yours. He gradually increases his attention between your legs, finally taking care of your sweet spot, even sliding fingers in your wet pussy. You can feel yourself coming close, closing your eyes, your whole-body trembling. But then Joker stops his marvelous work, your body twitches, looking for more, you were so close. He giggles at your state.

“I’m going to remind you exactly who you belong to”. He whispers, nibbling your nipples, sucking them, tightening his teeth around their tip.

“Then mark me” you find yourself asking, panting. You were always his, time to make it official. You see him reach for the knife, planting kisses on your chest, he chooses the area below your left breast. As he applies pressure, you feel the blade piercing your skin, slowly sliding like dancing on your body, he is carving his name in your flesh, you close your eyes, biting your lip, the soft burning is relieving, forgetting your frustration. Your mind follow your senses, first the J, then O, K is making you wince a little, more painful, E, finally R, you release a shaky breath, satisfied by the sensations it gives you.

The clown collects some of the dripping blood on his fingers, licking them with his tongue, then putting them in his mouth, tasting you one more time, closing his eyes in delight. His fingers dance once again on your sensitive marks, almost burning. He accumulates more blood on his thumbs, and lay them on the corners of your mouth, painting a smile on your face. You want to kiss him so bad, you straighten yourself to reach his lips, griping his hair roughly. But this time the kiss is tender and longing.

“Scar me; I am yours as much as your mine.” He asks you against your lips, his pupils dilated, he’s looking at you intensely, determined and serious.

You position yourself to be sitting on his lap, you take the blade, his hands are resting on your hips, caressing your butt cheeks, you brush your lips against his torso, posing wet kisses on his collarbone, yes, the perfect spot. Gently you engrave your name, he closes his eyes, rejecting his head back, softly moaning your name. It looks perfect, your name on his skin, until the end.

When you’re finished, he lays you down, a devilish smile appearing on his lips. Unbuttoning his pants, he lets out his throbbing erection, you gulp in anticipation. In a sharp movement of his hips, he penetrates you, making you gasp of pleasure, your frustration surging back.

Then, his hands are in your hair, yanking them so tightly. You arch your back underneath him. He gets hold of your bottom lip and bites it, hard; you drag your nails even deeper in his shoulder blades, trying to leave marks for him to wince tomorrow. His thrusts inside of you are fast, hard, violent, his breath coming in big ragged gasps. You wrap your legs around him, gripping his hair, pushing him further and deeper into you, you bite his lobe as you breathe and moan of pleasure in his ear.

“You belong to me you get it?” he groans, his voice husky, reinforcing his statement by rough thrust, making you cry out.

“Y…yes Joker…” you manage to articulate, you were coming close again, this time he doesn’t stop, increasing his speed, his fingers gripping your thighs.

“I’m gonna come, fuck…” he moans is head buried in the rook of your neck, muffling his groans of pleasure, you reach climax before him already overstimulated, your body jolting, he follows you a few seconds after, breathless, he collapses on you, his head resting on your breast. The both of you are laying like that for a couple of minutes, trying to gain back your senses. ‘Well that was something’ is the first thing that comes to your mind, making you giggle, you kiss the top of his head.

“We can’t stay here…” you say after a while. His answer comes out as a sleepy groan, you smile, he already had a plan, for the first time you felt free, free of the world, of your own rules, and happy.

#joker #joaquin phoenix #arthur fleck #arthur fleck x reader #joker x reader

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