#arthur fleck hurt comfort

[sorry-i-got-the-jams]

Acta est fabula

Acta est Fabula - A Joker Fic

"¿El mundo ardía por su culpa? Pero un mundo así, un mundo que le hacía esto, que permitía que se hiciera esto, ¿no merecía arder? Todos ellos debían morir. O quizás era Arthur el que tenía que morir para que todo terminara. Pero nunca acababa, nunca, nunca, nunca…

Arthur regresa a Arkham tras otro intenso día en el juzgado. Su cabeza da vueltas, torturado por la declaración de Gary, el vértigo dominándolo mientras se cuestiona quién es realmente y hasta dónde está dispuesto a llegar. Lo único que desea es sumirse a sí mismo en la inconsciencia y que todo termine de una vez, pero los actos tienen consecuencias y sus palabras improvisadas frente a las cámaras están a punto de recibir una respuesta que Arthur ni siquiera podía imaginar".

Here you have it, my first fic for this fandom! It's angsty and heartbreaking, so be ready to enjoy this emotional trip!

[fleckficgirl]

Heartthrob | Arthur Fleck x reader 💗 CHAPTER 13

Summary: Attempting to conceal her checkered past, a young dancer in Gotham (Y/N) lands a job at Ha-Ha’s and finds herself increasingly drawn to a shy, lonely clown named Arthur Fleck.

Warnings: sex, age gap, language, violence, mental illness, assault

Word Count: 2651

Chapter List: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12

Arthur called immediately after you hung up the phone with Tina and Chantelle and asked you to meet him at City Central Station at noon.

“I have to go out to Long Island,” he said, a heavy undercurrent of apology in his voice. “And I wanted to ask if you’d be willing to come with me.” 

“Sounds perfect,” you’d replied instantly.

Arthur laughed, surprised. “I, uh…well, I know it’s not very romantic. But it’s kind of an emergency and-”

“I’m there,” you said. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, yes,” Arthur said. He sounded tense, flustered. You wished you were in the same room with him so you could put his arms around him and calm him down. Comfort him with your body. Among other things. 

“Nothing’s wrong,” Arthur assured you. “I’m not hurt or anything. I can explain everything to you on the train. I’m sorry, I-”

“Don’t be sorry, Arthur,” you stopped him. “I’m happy just to spend time with you. No matter what we’re doing.”

You heard Arthur pause, releasing a relieved-sounding sigh on the other end, his tone softening. “I…I couldn't stop thinking about you last night,” he confessed. “I think I even dreamed about you.”

“Really?” you felt an uncontrollable smile spread across your face. Only Arthur Fleck could make you smile like a complete loon. 

“Sorry. Is that weird for me to tell you that?”

“No!” you blurted. “In fact, I dreamed about you!” 

Arthur laughed. “You did? Last night?”

“Uh…not last night, exactly.” You felt your cheeks heating up and felt glad Arthur couldn't see you blush. “Earlier. Like…maybe after the first time I saw you?”

“That’s sweet, Y/N. Was it a nice dream?”

“It was…very nice.” 

If only Arthur knew the true carnal nature of that first dream. You’d get around to telling him someday…hopefully sooner rather than later. 

And now, one hour later, here you were: one hour standing on the train platform waiting for him. 

You glanced around Gotham City Central Station at all the bustling people - still rushing, still hustling, still rat-racing on a Saturday morning. They were like hamsters on one big gigantic wheel in a cage called Gotham, and although you knew you were one of them, having a day off gave you a refreshed perspective: Exactly who was winning this race? Why did normal people have to work themselves into the ground just to scrape by? 

It seemed the winners of this race had already been called a long time ago. 

Among the noise, traffic and images vying for your attention all at the same time, you locked eyes with a poster of Thomas Wayne. You shook your head. He was on television all the time these days. People seemed to think Wayne could “fix” Gotham and wanted him to run for mayor. 

To put it bluntly: you thought those people were delusional. 

There was no denying Gotham was a broken place. But was the wealthy mogul Thomas Wayne really the one to fix it? How could he know what the people of this God-forsaken city needed to get back on their feet? How could someone born and raised with an endless supply of silver spoons in his mouth possibly relate to living on the fringes of society?

The crowd parted and Arthur appeared, holding a newspaper under his arm. He spotted you and smiled. You ran up to him and leapt into his arms. Arthur caught you, spun you, then dipped you over and kissed you. The two of you were living in your own musical fantasy in the middle of a dirty, overcrowded train station.

“I’m so sorry that this is our second date,”Arthur said as he lowered you to the ground. “I wanted to plan something more romantic…a walk in the park, or maybe a trip to the-”

“Arthur,” you stopped him. “Anytime we’re together is romantic. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in the world right now but here.” 

He smiled shyly and gave you a tender kiss on the cheek.

The graze of his lips against you triggered a slew of wants. You wanted to kiss him again. Properly. In fact, you wanted to do a lot of things to him. The memory of the soft pull of Arthur’s lips against yours the night before had stirred within you like a fever since then - but you were worried that if you started, you wouldn't be able to stop. And there were too many people around. You’d have to behave yourself. At least for the time being. 

“So where exactly on Long Island are we headed?” you asked. “And what’s this mystery mission you couldn’t tell me about on the phone?”

Arthur drew in a heavy breath. “It’s…look, I don’t want to sound crazy. I’m not sure if I believe it myself, but last night…”

He was interrupted by your train pulling loudly into the station. 

“That’s the one we want,” he jerked his head towards it.

“Oh shit!” you exclaimed. “I just remembered, I didn’t buy a ticket!”

“Don’t worry,” Arthur fished into his jacket pocket and pulled out two small pieces of paper. “I got yours.” 

After finding two empty seats together, you placed your hand on Arthur’s and listened. Listened as he told you everything: How his mother had been writing letters to Thomas Wayne (funny how you’d just been thinking about him…though to be fair, his smug face was plastered all over the city). How he hadn’t paid his mother’s compulsive letter-writing much mind. She was set in her ways and tended to overfocus on things that were of little to no consequence. And finally: how last night after coming home from your date, an unexpected burst of curiosity had cajoled him into reading one of her letters…

…in which his mother had disclosed something totally unexpected. Something shocking.

“Thomas Wayne?” you repeated, raising your eyebrows. 

Arthur nodded.

“Your…father?”

You blinked. This was so out of left field, it had gone past left field and back to right again. You struggled to pick a reaction; there were so many coursing through your mind and heart. You could only imagine how Arthur was feeling. 

“How did your mother even know him?” you asked, agog.

“She used to work for the Waynes. As their housekeeper. Just before I was born.”

You shook your head in stunned disbelief. “I have to say, I don’t know what to think. Do you believe her, Arthur?” 

Arthur was silent for a moment, and you gave him space to find the words.

“At first I didn't, really. She hasn’t always been…the best at telling the truth. She thinks things are real that aren’t. I wonder sometimes if I get that from her.” 

He unfolded the newspaper on his lap and began leafing through the pages.

“But now, when I look at pictures of him - and his pictures are everywhere - I can’t help but see a resemblance. Maybe it’s all in my head, I don’t know.” 

Arthur landed on a picture of Wayne and his wife, gazing admiringly up at him as he waved to a crowd. He tore out the photo and creased back the edges so you both could see it more clearly. 

“Do you think I look like him, Y/N?” Arthur asked. 

“I don’t know…” You scoured the famous man’s face. The curve of his cheekbones, the arch of his eyebrows. 

Like a bolt of lightning, it struck you.  

“Shit, Arthur. I don’t know if I’m going crazy, but…now I do kind of see a resemblance!” 

“I know,” Arthur said. “Now that I see it, I can’t stop seeing it.”

You peered in closer. 

“But why wouldn’t she say anything until now?” you leaned back in your seat. “Why wait all these years?” 

“She said she signed some papers promising she would keep it a secret. It was to protect me as their child, some big scandal coming out. But she said they loved each other. They just couldn’t be together.” 

“Jesus,” you sat back in your seat. Through the window, the entire world seemed to blur as the train lurched away from the city. “What a fucking rollercoaster.” 

“I have to go see him,” Arthur’s voice broke into your racing thoughts. “Talk to him face to face.”

“Of course,” you agreed. “Go to his house and confront him. It’s the only way to get to the bottom of this. ” 

You’d been to Wayne Manor only once before: a field trip in the second grade at Burnley Elementary School. Over a decade later, all you recalled about the visit were the Waynes’ dobermans that barked at you and your classmates the entire time. Like you were intruders even though the Manor was a historical landmark with paid tours.

The Waynes were a piece of work. 

“Come on,” you took Arthur’s hand as you exited the train station. There were no cabs around like in the Gotham, and the walk from the train station to Wayne Manor would take at least half an hour on foot. 

Long Island was worlds apart from the city. Away from the endless, screeching roar of Gotham, you could actually hear yourself think. 

You and Arthur made your way down the tree-lined roads. It was autumn and the leaves were beginning to turn gold and fall to the ground. You liked how Arthur made a point to always walk on the outside of the sidewalk, creating a buffer between yourself and the street. Maybe his mother was crazy, but there was no denying she had raised a gentleman. 

Arthur seemed to relish holding your hand, the sound of dry leaves crunching beneath your feet. 

“So what was that dream you had about me?” you asked playfully, giving his hand a light squeeze. You looked over to see his cheeks flush. His shy smile swept you off your feet.  

“Oh,” Arthur gave a small laugh. “I dreamed you were onstage with me.” 

“Doing your comedy act?” you giggled. “Like a singing, dancing comedic duo?”

“No,” Arthur shook his head. “I mean yes. Kind of. We were singing and dancing together. I was in my red suit and you were…”

He paused. You shot him a quizzical look.

“I was what?” you prodded. 

“It’s embarrassing.”

“What was I, naked or something?” 

“No,” he shook his head. His face was even cuter (if such a thing was possible) when it was all embarrassed and flushed.

“You were wearing your Snow White costume.”

Not the answer you’d expected. You let out a laugh. 

“I guess that makes sense,” you conceded. “Given you’ve seen me in it at the children’s hospital.”

“It’s not just that,” Arthur confessed as you walked along. “It’s because…well, I didn’t tell you this at the time because I thought it would be weird. But Snow White was the first movie I ever saw in the movie theater.” 

“That’s not so strange,” you replied. “It’s a classic, after all.”

“Well…she was also my first love. Snow White, I mean. I saw her up there on the screen and I fell in love with her.”

Now you were blushing. And as stupid as it was, you also felt a pang of jealousy course through you. Yes, you were jealous of a cartoon princess Arthur’d been infatuated with as a child. It was beyond ridiculous, but the truth was: hearing Arthur loved anyone besides you made your heart pound with envy. You just hoped he still didn’t have a thing for her. 

“You know…” Arthur’s voice broke into your racing thoughts. “I hope this isn't weird of me to say, but…I'm honestly surprised you would ever be interested in someone like me.” 

You stopped in your tracks. Was he trying to give you the brush off? Tell you he was still in love with a childhood celluloid dream? Your heart was jumping up and down, side to side. You couldn’t imagine going on without him in your life. 

“What makes you say that?” you asked, measured tone and breath, trying specifically not to sound as psycho as you really felt.

Arthur shrugged. “I’m…older than you, I live with my mother. I have no money. And you…”

You wanted to protest everything he was saying, but reminded yourself to wait patiently for him to complete the thought. 

“...you’re a college student.”

“I was a college student,” you corrected him.

“You deserve to live in a beautiful place like this,” Arthur said, gesturing at the verdant surroundings. “Someone who can give you that.”

“Are you breaking up with me?” you blurted. You could feel another episode coming on and as much as you trusted Arthur, you really didn’t want to lose it in front of him again. You especially didn’t want to lose it because he was dumping you. And on Long Island, no less. Crazy behavior was normal in Gotham, but here they’d have you arrested for so much as a shriek here.

“No!” he shook his head immediately. “Not at all. I just…don’t want you to feel like I’m keeping you from a better life. You know I have all these problems…”

You breathed a silent sigh of relief. He wasn’t breaking up with you. He was just concerned, thoughtful, putting your needs ahead of his. 

It only made your feelings deepen for him even more. 

“Does it bother you?” Arthur asked. “That I’m older than you?”

“No,” you replied. “Does it bother you? Have you ever been with someone younger?” 

Arthur pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and shook one loose, bringing it to his mouth as he fished around his other pocket for a lighter. 

“I haven’t really dated at all,” he said with an embarrassed wince. “I’m not someone most people would…ever be interested in.” 

“That’s not true,” you said, still reeling from the shock that this beautiful, sweet, tender man had never dated. Though to be fair, knowing he’d loved anyone else would have triggered more jealousy. At the same time, you couldn’t wrap your head around how no one could see how amazing he was. 

“I’ve never dated, either, Arthur,” you pointed out. 

“But that makes sense. You're a lot younger than I am.”

You grinned slightly. “Have you been doing the math? How much?”

Arthur inhaled the first drag of his cigarette, and it billowed out into the clean Long Island air. 

“You told me what year you graduated last night. If I’d stayed in school, I would have graduated in 1964. Which means I'm fifteen years older than you. It took me a second to do the math. That was never my strong subject. None of them were.” 

You shook your head, then suddenly found yourself laughing. “Actually…”

Arthur looked up at you with big, worried eyes. “Yes?”

“I like that you’re older than me,” you confessed.   

“You do?”

“Is that weird?” Now you felt a little embarrassed. You didn’t want Arthur to think you were a freak, but you were just being honest. “I don't like guys my age.”

“You didn't meet anyone you liked at school? I'd think lots of guys would be interested in you.”  

“‘Interested’ is a relative term,” you scoffed bitterly. “The guys at Gotham U are…let's just say a lot of them are book smart. And come from rich families. But they act like fucking animals.”

Arthur frowned. “Animals? How do you mean?”

You shook your head. “I'll tell you about it some other time.”

Arthur nodded respectfully.

“The truth is, Arthur,” you continued. “I never liked anybody that way…until I met you.”

Arthur smiled at the ground as you plodded along in sync, then silently took your hand.

“I feel the same way about you,” he said. “When we’re together, it just…feels right.” 

“I know,” you said, giving his hand a squeeze. “So many things in my life haven’t felt right…haven't been right. But this does. And if it feels right, nothing else matters.” 

💕💕 If you enjoy my writing and find it valuable, please consider leaving a tip to support my work. Thank you! @ghastella xx 💕💕

💗 Tag List (dm me to be added): @fallon779 @mama-ferret-art @cherryboss713 @lolwey @jokeringcutio @luckypurins @fruitcupsworld @skaravile @filmsandlovers

💗Master List

[milkywaygalaxygurl]

Caught - Arthur Fleck

request: Could you write an angst to fluff Arthur fleck x reader? Maybe reader catches him self harming or regressing into depression or something and reader comforts him, only asked because I saw you said you will write for darker topics and the idea just popped into my head. Please and thank you!

i wasn’t sure on how to end this, sorry if this sucks!

Pairing: Arthur Fleck x Reader

Warnings: talk of self harm, reader finds arthur about to self harm, probably slightly sad, a little angst, reader and arthur take a bath together but it’s nothing sexual

Word Count: too lazy to put it

You hadn’t expected to find Arthur hunched over on the bathroom floor with a knife in his hands when you came home from work, but here you were.

“Arthur!” You call out, immediately stepping forward to get the knife away from him. He was already crying, but at the sight of you he begins to sob.

“What are you doing?!” You say, putting the knife on the bathroom counter before sitting in front of the man you love.

“I-I don’t know, the pain. It’s too much.” He speaks between sobs, breaking your heart.

“Oh, Arthur.” You reach for him, pulling him close to you. You cradle his head, holding it to your chest while you rock him slowly.

“I love you so much, you know? I don’t want you to be hurting yourself, ever. Please just call me next time.” You whisper, still rocking him back and forth.

“I-I’m so sorry.” He sobs out, breaking your heart further.

“Shh, it’s okay. It’s okay, my sweet boy. I love you so much, I promise I’m not mad. I’m just worried.” He pulls back to look at you and your heart fully shatters in that moment, seeing your sunshine with his face stained with tears.

“I love you too, thank you for stopping me.” He sniffles, smiling weakly.

“Of course, my love. Let’s get you up and run a warm bath, hm?” You knew it helped Arthur to take baths when he got like this, so it was your first course of action to try and help him. You stand up with him, taking him into your arms for another tight hug before letting him sit on the closed toilet.

You turn on the water, making sure it’s just the way Arthur likes it before plugging the drain. Once it’s full, you help him undress before undressing yourself and getting in behind him. You hold him close, whispering sweet nothings to him and telling him how much you love him. By the time the water is cold and Arthur is cleaned up, he’s stopped crying and even tries to crack a few jokes.

“I love you so much, you know?” You whisper to him once you’re out of the bath and in bed with him.

“I do.” He whispers back, kissing you softly.

[star-dust-stuf]

Arthur Fleck x fem!reader

title: baby, think you’re bad?

warnings: violence, harassment

a/n: I wanted to write this because I think I’d be flattered if someone killed for me tbh, sorry for any typos, as always enjoy!

-

it was the last place I wanted to be, about nine at night on an empty bus- I wish it was empty all there was where three men sitting across me laughing like they where drunk and a man dressed as a clown a little farther from me but he didn’t seem to bother me as much as the drunk men across me. All the man in the clown suit did was mind his business, didn’t even look at me half the ride but he did when the men started to bother me and he saw it.

“Hey?” One of the men said, waving his hand to get my attention. I didn’t look up from my lap that my purse was sitting beside me and I was gripping on edge.

“Hello?!” He was getting angry I could tell by his voice, didn’t look.

“He’s trying to be nice, hey?” The other one day next to him, I saw by his shoes.

I turned my head slowly to the clown, a tear formed in my eye from fear and he saw this. He glanced at me and the men, again and again before on of the men threw a piece of rolled up paper at me that he grabbed from his pocket. I mad wit clear I was crying and they began to mock me.

“Aw, don’t cry!” They mocked, one of them touched my shoulder and slid next to me, he touched my thigh.

I tried to get up but he grabbed my wrist and sat me back down. “Let go of me!” I didn’t sound scared as much as I was.

All the sudden my attention was drawn to the man far from me, he began to laugh uncontrollably it seemed he couldn’t help it. “Something funny?” The man sat up and got towards him.

He still laughed and covered his mouth, they mocked him, laughing along and on of them even sat beside him, talk his wig off showing his brown hair that gleamed in the dim light as it flickered.

“I- have a- c- condition!” He laughed as he reached for his bag.

“This your friend?” The man said looking at me.

I didn’t say no or yes, I was too busy with the man next to me, he took it upon himself to put his hand on the back of my head, when my tears grew stronger he pulled my hair hard enough for me to yell out in pain.

Laughing, the man got up after the others knocked the bag from his hand, he heard me cry and felt to do something. I saw him reach in his back pocket but the man knocked him to the floor. The two men kicked him, the clown stayed down, not fighting, he was building the courage I saw on his face he was.

Holding himself he got fed up. A loud shot echoed and a yell escaped on of the men who slammed his body on the wall of the train, leaving a blood trail that stained. The other two men jumped, this time the clown had the gun pointed at the man next to me. He got up, hands in the air and he didn’t hesitate to shoot him down.

I screamed aloud and got to the floor, dragging myself to the door and putting my knees to my chest, my head faced down. One last man ended up making to the other part of the train and of course the clown followed, I heard the shots far from me.

Crying as the tears stained the floor under me, it was silent and all I could do was stay still, I had no choice but to pray to myself. Rocking back and forth I felt a gloved hand on my bare knee. I jumped.

“It’s ok..” I heard the clown say, he breathed heavily, his gun lied beside him as he was on his knees. His makeup was ruined, sweat drowned his makeup the blue was on his chin and the red stained his neck.

I looked at his gun, my tears swelled. “No- it’s ok I won’t hurt you!” He pushed his gun behind him.

He softly put my knees down, then putting my dress down over them to make me more comfortable, he was polite, and kind. He looked at me with his eyes, his so soft eyes. He was scared for himself, he’s never killed anyone and I saw that in his face.

“T- thank you.” I whispered to him.

He glanced at me, he was overall shocked. “What?”

I chocked, “thank you…”

He tilted his head, “why?”

“You helped me.”

“But I killed them.”

I shrugged, wiping the tears from my cheeks, “and?” He smiled, “is that really a- a condition?” I sniffed.

He tripped on his words. “Yeah.”

I nodded, “are you ok?”

He noticed I saw him being beaten on the ground. “Yeah…”

“Can I walk you home?”

“I killed three men, and you want to walk me home?”

I nodded, I wasn’t even thinking about what he did only why he did it, why did he do it? As we walked up the steps and I to a long tunnel to the city I wanted to know. He was tripping over his oversized shoes and I couldn’t help but smile.

“Why did you- do that?” I held my arms in the cold.

“They wouldn’t leave you alone, I guess I did it for myself too.” He saw me shivering.

Reaching into his bag he grabbed his oversized coat as well, matching his overall outfit. He put it over my shoulders and his sweet smile shined through his makeup. “Thanks.”

“Why aren’t you scared?” He questioned me.

I shrugged, “I guess I’m just grateful someone was there or it could’ve been worse.” He looked down at the wet pavement and smiled to his large shoes.

[knoepfl]

A Fleeting Fantasy ||

Characters: - Arthur Fleck: The troubled, lonely man yearning for connection and understanding. - Reader (You): A gentle, compassionate presence in Arthur's life—a woman who sees the beauty in his soul, though she exists only in his mind.

Trigger Warnings: Mental health themes, hallucinations, loneliness, implied depression.

Masterlist

Part 1

Words: 1184

---

After the turmoil and chaos of the night, Arthur sat alone in his dim apartment, the darkness pressing in like an embrace that threatened to consume him. He barely felt the weight of his mother’s death, not yet, as if his mind had built a barrier to keep out the full impact of what he’d done. The silence felt too thick, and his thoughts tumbled in disjointed fragments—images of the hospital, the creak of the chair beside her bed, the sound of her last breath. He couldn’t decide if it was real. He had barely returned to his apartment, and already everything felt disconnected from him.

Arthur’s eyes shifted to the worn spot on his couch where he had always imagined you sitting, smiling up at him with that quiet understanding that had soothed him so many times. His heart ached, yearning for that fleeting comfort, knowing it had been nothing more than a trick his mind had played on him. The ache of loss settled in, a strange sorrow filling him as he thought about how alone he was, how alone he’d always been. He closed his eyes, sighing heavily.

Then, softly, gently, a familiar voice broke the silence.

“Arthur.”

His eyes snapped open. There, standing before him, as real as he remembered, was you. You wore the same clothes he had pictured you in that first night on the bench outside, your eyes soft and warm as you looked at him. Every detail was so vivid—your hair, the curve of your smile, even the way you held your hands together, like you were waiting for him to respond.

Arthur felt a surge of relief and disbelief all at once, the ache in his chest loosening as he looked at you. But then the rational part of him, the part that still held on to a thin thread of reality, whispered that this couldn’t be possible. You had never been real, just a product of his own loneliness. But here you were again, like a miracle in the darkness.

“Y-you’re… here?” he stammered, his voice catching.

You smiled, that same gentle, understanding smile that had captivated him from the start. “I never left, Arthur. I told you—I’ll always be here for you.”

Arthur swallowed, a strange mixture of sadness and joy tugging at him. “But… I thought you were gone. I thought… I thought I made you up.”

You took a step closer, your presence steady and warm. “You’re hurting, Arthur. And when you hurt, I hurt. I came back because I couldn’t bear to see you like this.”

He felt a tear slip down his cheek, his emotions raw and tangled. He had just done the unimaginable, taken a life—the one life that had meant something, even if it had brought him pain. He had expected to feel free, to feel unburdened, but instead, he felt a hollow emptiness that gnawed at him from the inside. And here you were, the only person who had ever made him feel seen, offering solace once again.

Arthur reached out tentatively, his hand trembling as it hovered in the space between you. He didn’t know if he would feel anything if he touched you, if you were real in any way, but he couldn’t resist the need for connection, for comfort. You took his hand, your touch warm and gentle, and he felt a strange, bittersweet sense of peace wash over him.

“I know it’s been hard,” you murmured, your thumb brushing over his hand, grounding him. “But you don’t have to face this alone.”

He let out a shaky breath, his voice a broken whisper. “I… I thought I’d be free. I thought it would feel better… without her.”

Your expression softened, filled with empathy. “You’re hurting, Arthur, more than you even realize. But it’s okay. You did what you thought you had to do. And I’m here for you, no matter what.”

Arthur squeezed your hand, holding on as if you were the last solid thing in a world that had become a blur. He wanted to believe, even if only for a moment, that you were truly here, that he hadn’t just conjured you from his mind out of desperation.

“You… you don’t hate me?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Your gaze was steady, unwavering. “No, Arthur. I could never hate you.”

As the night wore on, he talked to you, pouring out everything he had held inside—the anger, the sadness, the unbearable loneliness that had haunted him his entire life. And you listened, just like before, with that same gentle patience that made him feel as though he mattered, as though he were worth understanding.

He told you about his dreams, the small flickers of hope he had once held onto. He confessed his desire to make people laugh, to bring joy into a world that seemed determined to break him. And when he spoke of his mother, the pain that laced his voice was raw and unfiltered. He had loved her, in his own way, even though their relationship had been a twisted mess of dependence and disappointment.

“Maybe I was never meant to be happy,” he murmured, his voice laced with resignation.

You shook your head, a soft sadness in your eyes. “Don’t say that, Arthur. You deserve happiness, just like anyone else. You’re… you’re more than what the world sees. They just don’t understand.”

Arthur felt a lump rise in his throat, a feeling he could barely put into words. You were saying the things he had always longed to hear, the words he had needed his whole life. And even though he knew, on some level, that you weren’t real, that you were only here because he needed you to be, he found himself clinging to the illusion. Because in this moment, you were all he had.

Hours passed, and still, you stayed with him, your presence a quiet, unwavering comfort that he couldn’t bring himself to question. You sat with him in the silence, your hand still holding his, as if promising that you would never let go.

Finally, as dawn began to break, he looked at you, his gaze searching, pleading. “Will you stay?”

You smiled softly, your eyes filled with a tenderness that soothed the ache in his chest. “As long as you need me, Arthur. I’ll always be here.”

Arthur nodded, a fragile sense of peace settling over him as he closed his eyes, leaning his head against yours. The world outside was cruel and unkind, a place that had never accepted him, but here, in this moment, he felt a strange sense of belonging. He didn’t know how long he could keep this illusion, didn’t know if it would last, but he didn’t care.

Because in this fleeting fantasy, he wasn’t alone. And for a man who had spent his life feeling invisible, that was enough.

As the sun rose, casting a soft glow over the room, Arthur drifted off into a restless sleep, your presence lingering beside him, a silent promise that you would never truly leave him..

---

[arthurflecksgirl]

"Halo"

Word count : 3000

TW : Quick mentions of injury/Jail life

Summary : This scenery is inspired by some scenes from the teaser trailer but Harley free. Reader is visiting Arthur in his cell, comforting him which ends up being a healing experience for both of them.

The smell of garbage and hopelessness was hanging in the air like thick smoke. The instant chattering of the inmates impossible to keep you from feeling it in your bones. You begged for some white noise, for a sound less tormenting. Soon you will be able to hear his voice. Soothing, even if it was cracking. Only a few more steps down the stained hallways, passing some more guards, hearing some more screams and shouts. Laughter coming from a cell nearby. It wasnˋt him but you could tell it was some other inmate trying to mimic his cries. They probably didnt even know it was a cry. In here, he was the man who laughs. Always. The mocking sound send shivers down your spine. It  hurt you deep down in your heart, which was so full of love for this man, it didnt had any capacy left for anything else. You could tell by the way they tried to imitate his laughter, that they didnt knew about the painful source it was emerging from. That he had to fight it all his life. To endure it when he felt it crawling up his throat when in reality he was begging for a single tear to run down his cheek. Sometimes the tear would come but only from fighting so hard against the laughter. To them he was the man who never cried. Humiliation? He would be the man who laughs. Tasting someones fist and his own blood? He would be the man who laughs. Eletroshock therapy……

You fought for a long time to be allowed to visit him in his cell. Without the cold, stained glass between his skin and yours. Sometimes when the glass got all foggy from his breath you envied the surface for being covered with what was part of him. You wish it was your skin feeling the moist fog coming out of his mouth after he was cracking a joke that would only make you laugh.

You didnˋt notice your fingers starting to crumble the letter you were holding. The one you wrote for him  a week ago, so he had something to hold on to when you were back home again. Home. Who were you even kidding? Home was where he was, and if that meant home was a filthy cell in Arkham state hospital, then so it be.

 You would take off your clothes, fold them and put them under his sleepy head at night. Arthur rarely had been sleepy before,insomnia was holding him tight in itˋs claws, but the doctors made sure to keep him calmer. They made sure the man who laughs isnt laughing all through the night.

Even though it was never quiet in the hallways. Never a moment of rest, you knew that on his side, with your sweater functioning as a shared, tiney pillow it would work out somehow to find some peace. Even if only for a moment, even if only for a lullaby long. You would hum and sing him to sleep while youˋre touching his unwashed, curly hair. And his tiney body would soon stop shaking underneath your loving hands.The shakyness would come back in waves with every glimpse of a nightmare but you would be still awake,making sure he will be comforted by your hand on his forehead. A sweet, warm kiss or two or countless to make him drift back to sleep, even though he promised not to fall asleep to not miss a minute with you.

 But sleeping in your arms was not wasted time. It was the most precious gift under the sky. Especially in here. Your arms, a shelter within a cell. A tent within a harsh reality that wasnˋt able to effect him as baldy anymore. He knew that if he reached out to his own head he would find your hand. He would have proof the sensation of a hand in his hair wasnˋt just a dream. There was an arm and a shoulder to lie on. There was you.

„Miss,you now have an hour with Mr. Fleck.“ The Guards voice woke you out of your thoghts and you realized what you did to the letter in your hands „Dammit, what was I thinking?“ you cursed as you tried to even out the paper. The letter was important. It was something real, something physical to touch.

The door made a heavy sound as it opened. You could get a glimpse of Arthur through the small window which said „E258“.

Was that all he was to them? A number? While his name sounded like a poem to you, this number written on the door of his cell seemed like an insult which tried to strip him off his personality. You wondered who the other inmates were before they had been put in here and given a number. What their story was and what dreams they had before they ended up sounding like one pile of unbearable noise.

You wondered about if anyone in here was treating Arthur nicely. If he made some friends.

„Miss?“ the guard nodded as he pointed inside the claustrophobic space.

Then you saw him.

His gloomy eyes deperately searching for something that feels real. His tiney frame cradeling itself back and forth. There was so comfort here except a vivid dream world in your own mind. The memory of a song you used to love when you  were still able to see the blue skies whenever you wanted to.

 You hoped that he still had this amount of imagination. To make the black and greys his favourite colors. To make the mocking laughter coming from the other cells his favourite songs. You wondered if he ever danced around his cell on sleepless nights , imagining you between his arms. You craved to be the ghost of Arkham staying with Arthur night and day. Less like a spirit but more like an guardin angel wrapping him in golden, protective light.   

When the door fell open Arthur was barely reacting. He doubted it to be happening like everything else around him, including himself. The guard told you something else but you  werenˋt listening. All you could hear was Arthurs silent hum. Quiet as it was,to you it seemed more dominant than the arguments and fights going on a couple of feet away. It was like the place was filled with Arthur. His hums and heavy dreams, his sweat, tears and breath.

„Hey, my love“ you said, you could barely stand to be still a couple of steps away from him, but you wanted to give him a moment to realize you were real. Arthurs white undershirt was hanging loosely on his skinny body. He must have lost even more weight since last time you saw him.

Arthur was looking at the dim light that came from the ceiling. As if your voice was coming from there. He looked exhausted from always dreaming but never sleeping.

„Darling?“ you carefully kneed down beside him. His hands still wrapped around his knees, while he as sitting on the floor beside his so called bed. For a moment you thought that seeing him in his cell was actually worse than getting to see him behind the glass window. Wittnessing the reality of his every day life in here was unbearable. You desperately wanted him to get out of here. To bring him dinner to a sun flooded kitchen table, to wrap him into a fuzzy blanket.

„….is love, sweet love…“ he hummed quietly as he finally looked at you. His eyes trying to adjust his new reality.

„Y/N?“

„Yeah, its me. I am here now, Arthur. Do you hear me? Itˋs okay. I am here“ You placed the letter on the small table.

Arthur closed his eyes and smiled as if he was trying to absorb the information. To see if it would still be real when he opened his eyes again.

You started at him, waiting for him to do so. Desperately longing for looking into his eyes. He still kept them closed.

„…its the only thing…..“

He continued cradeling himself

„….there is just…….“

„Arthur? „

„….too little of….“

He quietly chuckled as he re opened his eyes. An emerald green universe of dreams. He opened his arms , waiting for you to get into his embrace. Eyes awkwardly focused on nothing. But his grin spoke more than words. He knew. He knew it was you.

You threw yourself into his arms within a second but yet you felt weightless, almost non existend as you fell onto his body. Did you become a dream the moment he held you? Part of his wold that was created out of imagination and hopes? Arthur was still hoping. For colors, for music and love. He was still craving after all he had to endure in here. Craving to be held.

His hold was surprisingly strong despite his weak body. You felt it while your own body seemed to disappear. You wanted to be real for him but if you were a dream……oh boy, if you were a dream you could stay with him forever and never had to leave for a single moment in time again. Time, space, cellar doors or rules……Nothing could effect you anymore. A dream can stay with you in every situation. Asleep or awake. You so desperately wanted to be his.

��Youˋre…here?!“

He needed this to be real.

You needed this to be real.

For once.

You coudnt talk as you opened your eyes. Can dreams talk back to you? You bet they can.

He needed your body to be something to touch. Not just a shilloutette of light standing beside his bed at night. Like an angel. Like something heavenly he made up in this hell that was these four walls.

The light coming from the ceiling crowned his head like a halo as he adjusted his position to hold you tighter. How ironic that this place which treated him as a dangerous criminal made him look like a saint.

Arthur shifted into your arms. The halo was gone. He wasnt standing in the light anymore.

But he was the light. He was tenderness. Holding him might have lasted a minute or an entire lifetime. It didnt matter as long as it lasted. Arms around bodies and  souls merging. Time is nothing.

After a little eternity of holding his little frame he stood there with his arms hanging from both sides of him. As if he didnt knew what to do with them anymore, now that they didnt held you.

„Arthur?“

„Hmm?“

„Could you….maybe take a step to the left side?“

He looked confused

„Is there something wrong?“

„No, ist just….I wanna see the real  you“

And as your right hand gently pushed Arthur  into position, the light  coming from the ceiling was crowning his head, making his curls look lighter in color. Making his halo shine.

Arthur smiled. Every single line that was carved into his handsome face moved, getting deeper.

„Perfect“ you whispered.

Arthur didnt even ask. He trusted you. He didnt move until you came towards him and hugged him again. This time you wanted to hold him tighter but you didnt dare to. Fragile as he seemed you were afraid to hurt him. Telling from the exposed skin on his chest and arms he suffered multiple bruises and cigarette burns.

„Who did this to you,love?“ it was hard to hold back the tears now.

Arthurs hands didnt move,lying on your back like they had always been there.

„I….um…I….canˋt remember“ he mumbled into the crook of  your neck.

„…but ist….fine…Iˋm getting…I think I am getting better. You know i´ve been thinking of some real good jokes. Of songs even. I was wondering if I could mix the two? Music and comedy and come up with a funny tune to make the days go by easier….and…I was wondering if….“

His voice cracked

„If what, Arthur?“ you losened the embrace to hold his face in your hands.

He swallowed hard „….Nevermind“

„You can tell me“

„I know“

„But itˋs okay if you canˋt right now“

Arthur nodded gratefully. Somehow all he needed was silence shared with you. The chattering down the halls became ore and more distant. Mutet even. By the music he was hearing when he looked at you. He wonˋt tell you. Not for now. But one day he will. One sweet day he would tell you about the song that was you.

„I wrote you a letter. Its actually not even close to what I have to say. But…“

„I am sure ist just perfect“ he muttered with a crocked smile. Eyes more focused now. „Thank you“.

You noticed a small wound on his temples ,placing a gentle kiss upon it.

„You know they say laughter is  the best medicine“ he said „But I disagree with them here. This is.“

You started kissing every inch of his face. Every wrinkle, every pore, the scar on his upper lip. You felt his mouth forming a smile when you did. And even if it was just wishful thinking, it felt like he was healing in your hands. Arthurs hand searched for yours while he hesitated about kissing you back. He was not used to this. The two of you had kissed before but he still remained rather insecure about being physical. He wasnˋt sure about how to act around someone he  was in love with. What if the way he was talking to you was not the way he was supposed to? If he said something wrong that would make you like him less? But then again….he knew deep inside that if there was one person in the world he could be himself with, it was you. If only he knew himself better. Sometimes he didnˋt knew what to do, how to act or who to be. But with you he felt like you truly saw something in him. And he wanted to be this man you saw when you looked at him.

The man with the halo.

Arthurs hand was holding yours inside his palms now. Carefully at first until it grew into a tight grip.

„You came“ he breathed into your face.

„Of course I did, darling.“

He let go of your hand „Iˋve made something for you“

Arthur nervously turned around to reach for a small object lying on the floor underneath the tiney window which barely let any sunlight in. He kept it in his left hand while he lit himself a cigarette.

„Oh, what is it?“

Arthur exhaled some smoke as he opened his hand.

„Um…we are not allowed to keep a lot of stuff in here….but….Iˋve collected some stones and Iˋve been carving this one here until it looked like a ….um…heart. Well…It was more like Iˋve been rubbing it against stuff because obviously we canˋt keep any sharp objects here. So….it….does not even look like a real heart… I am sorry….Itˋs….probably just some random, fucked up stone…Iˋm…“

You took the small object and kissed it. It was the most beautiful gift youˋve ever receiced.

„Itˋs beautiful…“

Arthur laughed. It was a geniue laugh.

„ Y/N? Are you crying or what?“

Now you had to laugh too.

„I guess I am“

„Iˋm glad you like it but itˋs really not that special“

„Oh, Arthur, belive me. It is.“

You carefully put the stone that had been carved by Arthur very own hands into your backpack. You will keep it under your pillow, once you arrived  at your apartment that should be the apartment of the two of you. The home that kept him save and sound. The kitchen that tranformed into the perfect venue for a waltz at 3 am. The smell of home cooked meals and tangerines filling the air.

„Will you lie down with me for a bit?“ Arthur puffed away his cigarette as he pointed to the dirty bedsheets „Iˋm sorry itˋs not that cosy. I wish I could offer you something more…“

As you crawled under the sheets with him, he lay on his back, his head turned to the side so he could face you, watching as you took your sweater off to place it gently under his head. He twitched when you accidentally touched his wound.

„Oh, Iˋm sorry my love. Better?“

„Yeah“ he whispered, as he pressed the cigarette butt into the ashtray lying on the worn out bunk bed.

He buried his face into the fabric. It would be so much easier to cope having a piece of you to sleep on.

You worried about how it was probably not allowed to gift him a sweater you brought but for now his lovely head was resting on it while a peaceful look crossed his exhausted face and that was all that mattered.

You lay down beside him, using his chest as your own pillow, able to feel his sharp ribs sticking out. His hollowed out belly rising up and down with every breath.

„Did you eat something today?“

He didnt answer, afraid to worry you even more.

„Do you think I am allowed to bring you home cooked meals?“

Arthur sighed „Umm…I donˋt think so…Itˋs okay. Iˋm not even hungry“

A silent tear rolled down your cheek. Half of worry half of happiness to have him near.

„I like my new sweater pillow. It smells just like you“ he smiled, trying to hide his own concern that it might be taken away from him soon.

„You know, Iˋve got a lot of time in here. To dream I mean. To work on jokes in my head and think of songs. Sometimes I can hear the music coming out of the lamp on the ceiling. But only when the lights are on. Strange isnˋt it?“

You combed his hair with your fingers „Arthur, when you are out of here…One day you will be telling all these jokes in crowded comedy clubs and singing all those songs in Gothams most famous Jazz clubs. And I will be there clapping along with the audience before you go off stage to grab my hand and go home to our kids who watched it on live tv and are so proud of their dad.“

Arthur started humming  an unknown song that he made up in multiple versions . Each song lyric with a different kinda ending. There were so many options to choose from and he liked that.

„This sounds like my favourite version“ he whisperd bewteen the hums.

And for a moment you could have sworn the light coming from the ceiling started flickering and flooded the grey cell in golden spotlights.

[these-written-reveries]

Just You and Me

‣ Pairing: Arthur Fleck x GN!Reader

‣ Summary: You show up at Arthur’s door, struggling and in desperate need of him and his love. Don’t worry, Arthur will take good care of you.

‣ Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort

‣ Warnings: Emotional breakdown, heavy feelings (no specifics mentioned)

‣ Word Count: 1,363

‣ A/N: This fic is dedicated to @ajokeformur-ray and anyone else who is struggling and in need of a bit of Arthur lovin’. Allow yourself to be present in this moment, just you and him. Forget about the rest of the world. You can let it all go, at least for now. I hope you can find a little solace in this piece. ♡

Song of Inspiration: “Don’t Worry” by The 1975

‣ Have an idea for a fic you’d like me to write? Send a request here. But first, make sure to read my Request Info!

Arthur Fleck/P!Joker Masterlist

Main Masterlist

◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈

There you stood, tired and dejected, in front of apartment 8J.

You had found yourself face-to-face with this door so many times that it was practically routine at this point. Whether it be to visit Arthur during the day, or in the evening to watch Murray, to check up on him, share leftovers, or to meet up for your weekly dates. Many times, you came to give Arthur his mail that was frequently placed into your mailbox by mistake. You lived just across from Arthur, and it had become apparent that the mail person didn’t care to actually look at the proper apartment numbers when placing mail in your boxes. You didn’t mind, in fact, you looked forward to such mistakes as it always gave you yet another reason to see your lover’s sweet face again. Who could complain about that?

This time, though, was different.

You had no mail to deliver, no leftovers, no smile, or warm greeting. You could barely muster the strength to bring your trembling hand up to knock on the old paint-chipped door. You hesitated. The last thing you wanted was to burden Arthur with more heaviness and pain. If Arthur was in your head, he would be ever so quick to shut those thoughts down. You knew this, but it didn’t stop the feelings burrowed deep within your chest; the same ones that almost stopped your hand from knocking upon the steel wall separating you from him. Your heart so ached for him. You needed him.

Three feeble knocks nearly went unnoticed by Arthur’s ears. It was late and he was immersed in his own mind, a pen in his hand as he wrote down a joke he had been mentally crafting all day onto the scribbled notebook page before him. Despite this, he still managed to be pulled from his focus enough to realize someone was at the door. The thought of it being you instantly sent his heart into an eager frenzy, his body moving out of his chair and towards the door without him even commanding it to.

He always looked forward to little visits from you. Opening the door to reveal your beautiful face and warm smile was the highlight of all his days. The two of you had a running game in which you’d show up at each other’s places with the most random of reasons as to why -all of which were highly important and definitely not just excuses to see one another.

But this time was different.

The moment Arthur opened the door, he sensed the grave importance of the situation, and so quickly did his smile disappear; the eager fluttering of his heart mutating into a throbbing pain at the sight in front of him. Your hunched shoulders, head hung low, hands trembling at your sides, hair covering your face. He didn’t need to know what your face looked like to know exactly what was going on. He knew, but oh god, did it still crush his soul to pieces when you finally did bring your teary eyes up to meet his. Despite his best efforts to say anything, do anything, he was frozen. All he could do was stare with a face overflowing with concern for his love.

It was your weary, somber voice that finally kicked him into action.

“Can I come in?” You quavered, looking up at him with desperation in your eyes. He could see so clearly. You needed him.

Arthur nodded quickly, stepping aside, and pulling the door open wider so you could enter. You looked so fragile, he felt scared to even touch you in fear of breaking you as he led you to the couch for you both to sit, hastily moving the blanket and TV remote to make room for you. Only when you were settled, did he allow himself to sit beside you.

He wanted so badly to wrap you up in his arms and shower you with loving words and kisses, but he found himself holding back from doing so. This was a delicate matter and the last thing he wanted was to make the wrong move. Instead, he chose to be ever so careful with each touch and word that he offered you, allowing you to guide the situation as to what you needed from him. Whatever it was, he would give it to you, without question. Anything to soothe the pain and suffering you were experiencing.

Gently embracing one of your shaking hands in both of his own, he glanced up at you, trying to meet your eyes, though they remained focused on your lap.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong? You can tell me,” he spoke tenderly and right away you felt the last bit of composure you had left completely collapse to dust.

Soon you were a mess of sobs and tears and between them, your words came spilling out, albeit a little hard to understand, but Arthur did his very best to listen intently to every one of them. Not once did he utter a single word himself, only nodded and gave your hand a little squeeze here and there. At one point, he placed a hand on your back and began rubbing soothing circles into it.

If it hadn’t been for the constant flow of tears blinding your vision, you would have noticed his face contort as different emotions filled his being. Jaw clenched, forehead wrinkled with tension, lips drawn down into a frown, tears pricking his eyes. At times, his tightly knitted brows would raise with concern in response to something you said. Other times, a spark of anger flashed in his eyes. He couldn’t help but find himself indignant at the circumstances that led you to this much suffering and he held an even greater resentment against anyone who hurt you. Whatever was so heavy on your soul filled Arthur with the most intense desire to strip it all away and take on the weight of it himself. And he would, in a heartbeat.

There was a brief moment of silence after you finished speaking as Arthur tried to collect his words. Finally, he let out a sigh, and shifted himself so that he was directly in front of you, knelt upon the green rug on the floor. Looking deeply into your eyes, he gently wiped a few stray tears from your face before speaking.

“I’m so sorry, honey. You know…it’s okay to feel that way. I think anyone would in your situation. If I could take it all away and make it better, I really would, baby.”

Holding your right hand in his left, he once again reached up to wipe your tears away, his right hand cradling your face as his thumb softly caressed your cheek. You let out a shaky breath as you relaxed into his touch. Arthur felt a small smile tug at his lips.

“I can’t make it all go away, but I can take care of you. Will you let me take care of you, please?”

He looked up at you with warm, loving eyes as he brought your right hand to his lips, placing the softest kiss atop it. You nodded your head, feeling a new wave of tears prick your eyes as your heart burst with love for the man who was literally on his knees for you, practically begging to take care of you, to make you feel better, to love you.

"C'mere, sweetheart," he cooed, his arms reaching out to you.

Arthur didn’t waste any more time as he wrapped you up tightly in his arms. You melted into his peaceful embrace, allowing him to move you both into a more comfortable position on the couch, where he finally indulged in showering you with kisses and loving whispers. He traced his fingers up and down your arms and spine; occasionally caressing your hair and face and banishing any tears that escaped your eyes with his lips.

“Don’t worry about a thing. I’ve got you. Just you and me, baby,” he murmured into your ear before pressing a tender kiss to your temple.

And for the first time since you’d knocked on the door of apartment 8J, you didn’t.

◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈

‣If you enjoyed this fic, please like, comment, and/or reblog! Doing so not only keeps my blog alive, but also lets me know what you like and how to improve!

‣ If you’d like to join the tag list for Arthur Fleck/P!Joker, or be tagged in all of my future writings, let me know by sending me an ask/message!

[johannabarkerstan]

//SPOILERS FOR JOKER FOLIE A DEUX//

This is an incredibly personal post and I might delete it later. But here you go.

Does anyone ever experience character grief? I’ll explain

I saw the new Joker movie last weekend, and Joaquin Phoenix’s Joker/Arthur Fleck has been such a major comfort character for me since I first saw Joker(2019). I know it’s a really odd character to find comfort in, but I do and it’s been that way for me for a few years. Especially with my dodgy mental health history but we don’t need to get into that. But watching him completely fall apart after his life was finally looking up and then witnessing him die in such an awful and tragic way really hit me. Like hit me to the point where I started full on sobbing crying after walking out of the theatre to my car. Just watching a character you love and root for so much end that way is such a hard and painful thing, especially for me since I have adhd and get EXTREMELY fixated on certain characters for long periods of time it just really hurt. As if I was watching someone that I knew personally die like that.

Idk if this makes sense. But I felt like I had to get that out. I loved the movie tho, very very fun time.

[meadow-selfship]

We all got our price - first meeting: Joker x Hannah

Title: we all got our price (a first time for everything)

Summary: Joker and Hannah's first meeting. S/I intro for Hannah here. No warnings (yet)

Wordcount: 1433

A/N: 'My' version of Joker lies somewhere between Ledger's Joker and Arthur Fleck. I got the idea to do a retelling in this vein from one of the Joker comics that's just titled 'Joker', the one w the big grin on the cover, where it's Johnny Frost who gets him and becomes his right hand for a while. Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The crime idiots were arguing again. I turned my back to them and popped a paracetamol out of the strip, quickly taking it with a good gulp of water. Fuck, I hated these quiet shifts at the bar - mostly when those idiots were around. I heard too much, and at night I couldn't get my head to quiet down. I cleaned the coffee machine as I listened to them talk.

To them I'm just some background extra, and reminding myself of that was oddly comforting. Sometimes I fantasised about selling information to the cops and getting them all in jail, but then who would be left to tip me well? Tomy landlord it doesn't matter that there's blood on the bills, so why should it matter to me?

"Well, someone's gonna have to get him."

"That doesn't mean it has to be me," said the other. 

"I've had too much to drink to drive," said the bald one, immediately met with scoffs.

"Oh, so now is the time you start caring about traffic safety - very convenient."

They went back and forth for a while. The big dude - wasn't his name Tony? - eventually interupted their bickering. "It's gonna have to be one of us, and it better be one he likes - he's bound to be pissed we didn't try to get him out sooner," he said, looking over his men, all four of them, with a hawk's eye. Behind the bar, I set the wiskeys on the tray and went over to them. Tony's eye fell to me. "You. Would you like to earn a couple extra hundreds tonight, girl?"

My heart skipped a beat as he adressed me, but I carefully set each of the glasses in front of the men, trying my best poker face. I blinked. "Doing what, exactly, sir?"

"Nothing illegal," his grin was like a shark's. "I just need you to get someone and bring him back here. Someone we do business with."

So; a criminal. I righted myself again and collected the empty glasses, ice tinkling as I picked each one up. "From where?"

"It's an easy job, really. He wouldn't hurt someone as... insignificant as you, and you'd make a quick buck," his hand slipped a hundred dollar bill inside the pocket of my apron. So, they're scared whoever they need to do business with will be pissed at them, and will kill them. But I'm not them, so I should be fine. It did sound like good money. Not like this'd be the first time I do something weird and half legal for these idiots.

Tony must've seen the change in my face as I decided, smiling lazily up at me. "Pick him up from Arkham Asylum. It's a bit away, but we can cover for you here - Marco, go man the bar," Tony barked, then continued: "and that note should be enough for gas money. The rest you'll get when you get back here."

I've done similar things before, one time I even had three guys in the back of my car, one handcuffed and with his head in a burlap sack. About that one I made a fuss too, demanding triple the pay for triple the guys. Apparently it's true that everyone has their price, huh. "Will he be waiting? I better be sure who I'm getting for you, or I'll bring the wrong guy over," I joked, which was met with chuckles across the table. Dropping the tray onto the table, I let Marco handle it.

Tony sucked on his teeth. "Oh, you'll know it when you see 'em. He just got out today, and he's aching to do business again. You be good now, sweetheart. I'm sure a gal like you can handle herself." He smacked my ass as I walked off.

My heart beat a mile a minute the whole drive there, so much so that I thought it'd take years off my life. It was late at night, and as anxious as I was, every other car still driving this late immediately seemed suspicious - but that was just projection. When I drove across the bridge to the asylum island, I knew there was no way back. A determination set in. When I stopped the car, there was a figure waiting for me by the asylum gate, one hand in his pocket, a cigarette in the other. The smallest light of the lit end of the cigarette provided enough light to see a glimse of his face. White greasepaint and a wide red lipstick smile. Joker. Fuck me. I got out, quickly checking if there was anyone else around, and went up to him.

"Joker?" I asked, voice surprisingly normal. "Tony sent me to come get you, for business."

He looked at me, taking another slow drag, lazy like a cat in the sun. "Aw, is he too scared to come get me himself?"

I shrugged and motioned to the car. He still made no move to follow me, so I just turned around and went ahead anyway. If he didn't wanna come, I won't make him. It'd be the safer option too - to have as little to do with him as possible. I opened the car door, got in, and as soon as I put the key in the ignition, the other door opened and Joker got in. Good. 

"What business does Tony want with me?" he asked, his tone changed to something lower, less playful.

"No idea, I'm not one of his guys, just the chauffeur," I turned the key and the car sputtered to life. "Don't smoke in the car, please."

Joker cackled, and looked me up and down. "No, you're not 'one of his guys' alright - I mean, look at you. What a sight for sore eyes. Tony sure knows how to butter me up."

I glanced at him and accelerated, eager to get back to the bar soon, passing cars here and there. "I take it you haven't seen many women during your time in Arkham."

He laughed again, the sound of it was infectious, and I smiled along with him. "Do I make you nervous, doll?" He leaned in, bridging the gap between our seats and leaned an arm around my shoulders.

"It's not every day I meet someone this famous," I said, words carefully chosen.

"Or one as dangerous," he purred by my ear. 

I chuckled. "That's debatable. Tony's one of Maroni's guys I think." I took a right, the sound of the turn signal grounding me in its familiarity. "I just work at the bar they frequent, I'm a nobody."

He clicked his tongue. "Aw, don't say that, doll. Of course you're somebody."

We're nearly halfway there. I controlled my breathing, ignoring the feeling of his hand petting at my hair in the back of my neck. Rather a sensitive spot, too. "Sure, I'm the chauffeur and the bartender."

"And does this chauffeur have a name?" he teased, tugging a little at the babyhairs, and I hoped he wouldn't notice how my eyes fluttered shut for the briefest second in from the sensation.

"Not one important enough for you to remember."

"Stop the car," he demanded, suddenly sitting up, at full alert. Alarmed at his change in tone, I did so immediately, stopping in the middle of the street. He pointed to the corner shop. "Lend me some money, will you?"

I leant back in the seat, staring him up and down, considering my options. The only cash I had on me was the hundred dollar bill Tony tucked in my apron earlier - good thing I didn't take that off. The silence was heavy between us as I considered him, his impatience growing by the second. Then I wordlessly plucked the money from my pocket. He snatched it from my hand, and with a "Wait here, doll," he shut the car door with a thump.

Within ten minutes, he returned, several bottled drinks under his arms, a sandwich and a croissant in a clear plastic bag dangling from his hand. He slammed the car door shut so harshly it made the car shake, but with the grin of a kid in a candy store.

"Here, I got you some," a packet of cookies landed in my lap. "Oh, and this," with his goods on the dashboard, he plucked a stack of cash from his inner coat pocket and tucked it in my apron.

"What? You robbed the store? What did you need to lend the money for, then?"

Joker cackled with laughter. "I suggest you drive before the police get here, doll."

[artiefleckypookkie]

To all of my Arthur Fleck moots I just want you all to know that I’m here for you all this is a very difficult time watching Arthur suffer and it’s affecting all of us. My heart is breaking for the Arthur fans. I see all of your posts and it hurts my heart to see you all suffering 💔💔 my heart is so shattered to see my favorite person in the whole wide world suffer Arthur Fleck has saved my life he has been my comfort character for a while now and it is destroying me to see him suffer💔💔💔 the Lee fans don’t understand our pain and it makes the hurt worse…they don’t care about Arthur but we do and that all that matters Arthur has us and I just wanted you all to know that I’m here and I haven’t gone anywhere. I will be posting more about Arthur on here and I know you guys are sad for now have this adorable collage of Arthur looking squishy and adorable I hope it cheers u all up at least a little 💔💔💔😢😢😢

[montimer]

"I'll come running to save you"

Arthur x spider-!reader

(In that universe reader is spider/man/women/other)

= means time skip

Ur clothes are not mentioned

Warning:none ig

A lot of people knew you. Since you started saving people from others. In Gotham there were a lot of crime makers. And since you got ur powers,and the police wasn't a big help, you decided to help the city.

========================

You heard laughing and yelling from the streets. So you immediately run to were the sound came from.

When you got there, a group of teenegers were beating up a man dressed as a clown. You were a bit confused,but you did what you had to do.

But when they saw you they ran away. You were relieved you didn't have to hurt those kids.

You looked down at the man.

"Hey, you good there?"

He opened his eyes, he looked hurt. "Y-yeah,thank you"

"No problem! Thats what i do"

You helped him up.

"Should i take ya home? Its easyer than walking"

"My boss would get angry if i wont show up at work. I already broke the sign.." he pointed at a broken sign. You looked back at him.

"Don't worry. You're hurt, he will understand. For now,let me take ya home" he smiled at that and nodded.

You hugged one of ur arm around him. "Hold onto me,i wont let ya fall" he akwardly hugged you.

"Ready?" "Um,i guess- whoa"

You shoot ur web at a building and fly up there. You put him down.

"I forgot, tell me where do you live?"

========================

You put him down at the doorstep.

"Well here we are. Did ya liked the flight?"

"Yeah!...i mean,it was nice. Thank you again."

"Of course. What is ur name?"

"Arthur..Arthur Fleck"

"Well then, see you around Art!"

He waved as you fly away.

'See you around' did you mean you will come back? He was so happy and exited,he has to write this down on his journal.

Bonus hc's!

Aaand yes,you did come back to meet him

Sometimes you guys are just talking while walking on the streets

You keep an eye on him. Making sure he wont get hurt again

He feels so honored, you from all of people decided to be around him

You also hear him out and comfort him

He blushes when you hug him

He asked you akwardly if you want to see him at the comedian club, and ofc you said yes. He was so happy

You randomly bring him food. And you say you will be offended if he doesn't accept it.

He's very upset if you get injuried. He want to patch you up, and if you let him,he will keep on doing it.

You will show him around the city,flying w/ ur webs. Thats the excuse. But both of you want to be close to each other. He loves to get held by you

His heart beats faster when you put an arm around his shoulder and defend him

When you laugh at his jokes,comfort him,save,love and care for him,he can't help but to fall for you

He tells his mom ab you. And if she doesn't believe it. You will come over (thats ur excuse)

Or when his mom is sleeping you come knocking at his window to let you in. He will make ya coffee or tea. And if you let him,he'll like to dance w/ you

He is also jealous, all those people try to get to you. Little does he know,you have fallen for him too ;))

Here's my idea

Should i make part 2?

[sorry-i-got-the-jams]

...Plaudite!

The Worst Place in Gotham, third chapter of my fix-it fic ...Plaudite! is finally up! Take a look at it, I promise is worthy!

[jokeringcutio]

Ok more angst 😈 Arthur and joker reacting to their injured partner ending up in the hospital. Maybe it was an unlucky car crash or maybe his enemies hurt them, up to you on how they got hurt 😈

"It happened way too fast. In hindsight, you should have seen it coming. He should have. But now, standing at the end of your bed, looking down at your pale form, he regretted that he hadn’t acted more accurately, more swiftly. That he had not been as aptly as he thought himself to be. You seemed so small and helpless beneath the white sheets, the hospital gown making your cheeks look even paler.

He grunted and tweaked the unlit cigarette from between his lips, folding his fingers around it tightly till they had formed a fist, the cigarette crushed inside. He’d get those bastards. He get them, and no revenge had ever been as sweet as this."

[ Headcanons below ]

Hi Anon, mun here, your local Jokeringcutio. This makes for so many great drabbles! I encourage any and all clown-loving readers to send me situation prompts to write a little drabble about. [ example: Arthur As Carnival arrives at the hospital to find his s/o injured. ] My hands are itching. Of course, I have a drabble in mind for Arthur needing to rescue the reader, as in one of the previous asks. But I would love to be given one of these scenarios and write a bit more about it. (Same goes for any of the filled-in headcanons ). Now without further ado:

Headcanons Joker/Arthur reacting to their s/o injured and in the hospital

Now, there are many scenarios for this:

Unlucky Car Crash:

Arthur Fleck: Let’s start nice and dramatic sweet. When it happens, there is nothing you can do to prevent it. The news reaches Arthur on the job. He has just finished performing and is in the process of taking his makeup off when he hears the devastating news. You are in critical condition, they say, and he doesn’t even take the time to wipe everything off his face. He just runs, hails a cab, and spends his last few bucks to reach you – clown paint smudged and still half on.

Seeing you in the bed is devastating to him, yet another confirmation that he isn’t allowed to have good things happen to him. He will hold your hand, and, when you regain consciousness, he will try his hardest to make you feel loved and comfortable, to make sure you know he is there for you, always. He will smile kindly at you, encouragingly, and talk in a soft and gentle voice.

He’ll bring you books, and sweets, and remains at your side up to the point where he'll fall asleep in the chair next to your bed, exhausted.

This man doesn't leave you. But the experience will not leave just you with scars. He’ll be traumatized by it for the rest of his life, always worried about losing you, always reminded of this one time. He’d stick close and try to be your guardian angel forever. And if he can’t and can’t arrange for something to put his mind at ease to ensure your safety – honestly, it’s becoming a little suffocating to always have him watch you – and something does go wrong – even if it is just a papercut to your finger – he’ll flip and blame himself. He wasn’t there to protect you. Arthur’s fragile like that, and this would be another heavy blemish upon his fragile mind.

Joker: Now, he'll cause havoc. Doesn’t matter if it is just an accident, he’ll be on it. The one initiating the accident? He’ll find that person. And you’ll find out later on that this person is dead. Probably after Joker has managed to threaten, frighten and steal money (emotional compensation etc) from them. He’s not leaving any stone unturned.

At the same time, he’ll still be doing his Arthur moves. He’ll be devastated, sit at your bedside and plot. He’ll forever be worried about losing you after the accident, holding your hands more and more often, gently rubbing his thumb in comforting circles as he holds your hand, hug you more, hold you close, try and keep you in safe locations.

And of course, he will not lose sight of you. Even if he isn’t with you, one of his men is shadowing you to make sure no harm will befall on you again.

Enemies Involved:

Arthur does not have the backbone to react properly to this threat. If someone hurts you because of him, he’ll try and tell them off, but he wouldn’t get away with it. He will not be the one ending victoriously on top. He probably will end up with a bloody broken nose and enough bruises to ensure he can’t sit and walk properly for days.

Such enemies are most likely to be youth harassing him while he is as Carnival – and you step in between to shush them.

Or perhaps Wayne’s men, because he cornered Wayne about the man actually being his father. Wayne knows this is true, and has Arthur shadowed. To intimidate him, he has his men send after you.

Arthur might not win this, might not properly take his revenge for you and punish those who hurt you – but if he gains just a little more confidence, his revenge will be all the sweeter. Seeing you in the hospital will tip him over and bring out the Joker in him. Now, the Joker, on the other hand, he will be victorious.

Joker. If his enemies aim at you it is purely by accident that they found out about you. You are supposed to be Joker’s little dirty secret. And he will be unforgiving when it happens. Especially as the attack will probably be made in front of his eyes.

As the Joker – do I really need to write this out again? – he will hunt down the culprits and make sure their deaths are slow and agonizing. Some kind of twisted torture might be applied. And as is natural for him, he will not let you know the full details about what he has done. Just tells you they have been taken care of. And if you are the curious type, you can find out on your own later what their fates have been. That is, if you want to dive back into the newspaper archives to find out about it.

He’ll send out a sign to any of his opponents that his s/o is not to be touched or toyed with. It is a clear warning. You are his. One wrong move, and they will pay with their lives.

He hurt you:

On the rare occasion that you end up in the hospital because he got too rough with you, he will be in a state of disbelief. Because, you are here, because of him?

It might have been an accident, part of a game between the two of you that went wrong? Practice with fighting or weapons that he has been teaching you how to use? Him being angry, perhaps not even at you, and you stepping in between and taking the brunt of it.

He will be repenting. He’ll sit with you in the hospital, seated next to your bed, elbows on his knees and head hanging. His hands folded in front of him like a prayer of forgiveness. He’ll whisper words, begging for your forgiveness. His makeup will be smudged by the tears spent and his eyes red because of all the crying.

He’ll be like this as well if you are in there because of having to give birth (if you are a s/o who can carry), and there have been complications, or a c-section has to be performed. Because dang, he blames himself for having you go through all of that.

And he’d be pretty much the same as in any other of these scenarios. Except there is no one but him to blame. And he’d be trying to gain your forgiveness for years to come – even if you actually told him everything was okay. AN: Hope you liked, feel free to send in scenarios for drabbles or imagines. To the anons who have sent in prompts: This is a busy week, but I will be on them. I have a few for Mr. Gold and for Arthur Fleck/Joker, and a personal prompt or two about Arthur Harrow for @nicktremblaywayfu and one for Albert Shaw especially for @myers-meadow. Now I just need the time to write them all. Have you seen my recent Captain Hook x Reader HC? I am over the moon someone suggested it <3

[jbcomic]

a mini rant about joker

todd philips took so many easter eggs from comics joker then also brings harley with the worst character as lee while he plays these games he made a sequel to assassinate arthur fleck it's not a tragedy for him he had a smile on his face we saw him laughing in interviews he knew exactly what he was doing he had no empathy for mental health issues he mocked it for his creativity

the first joker movie had a strong message about mental health and childhood trauma the reason audience felt connected to arthur fleck and gave him the sympathy they didn't follow his footsteps and choose violence as joker but understood the reason why he snapped after the traumatic events, most of the joker fans found comfort in him they felt their voices were finally heard by the society

arthur fleck brings hope in the darkness and his light saved many fans while social media has the habit of trending things for fun and entertainment the reason one idiot called this joker as an incel movie which is rubbish

joaquin is the soul of joker his acting felt so real we forgot arthur fleck is a fictional character and he deserved all those awards including the academy best actor award, the sequel has no story but again joaquin proved he doesn't need a script to save arthur he did it with his acting and proved haters wrong

the controversy about arthur being the real joker keeps getting worse while my opinion is he is the joker and i can explain the word joker means clown he was a party clown carnival who later turned into the joker we have so many comic references in the first movie but at the same time we never had a proper origin story of joker we can assume this is the first joker who committed crimes to defend himself not to hurt people around him and that arkham inmate jack got inspired by him

todd philips original joker script had arthur being a rude and evil person but joaquin changed him into human with feelings and emotions and i am glad he choose it we found the best comfort character of joker which doesn't exist in the comics but if u want him to be the joker origin story u can create a new issue with arthur fleck on the cover he deserves one for himself

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

Bitter kiss [ARTS]

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/mzSUNdY by MrLianf Quick sketches about Arthur Fleck/Young Bruce Wayn Words: 0, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Joker (2019), Batman - All Media Types Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Underage Categories: M/M Characters: Arthur Fleck, Bruce Wayne Relationships: Arthur Fleck/Bruce Wayne, Joker (DCU)/Bruce Wayne Additional Tags: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Don't Like Don't Read, First Kiss, Shotacon, Pedophilia, Grooming, Hurt/Comfort, Age Difference, Size Difference, Kissing, Underage Kissing, Extremely Underage, Digital Art, Digital Painting read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/mzSUNdY

[brokenmagxc]

SNOW SHIFTS AND MELTS IN PASSING SILENCE. crystalline flakes gingerly take place as they danced upon the window, dipping arthur's face in flecks of tiny shadows. a pale hand rests on the rising and falling of his chest. the quiet is not unwelcomed — in fact, it is almost comforting knowing that he is not the only one with some semblance of hesitance. they did not bother to tackle unknowns until now ; a change of pace that arthur would not admit he enjoyed. such scrutiny is oft hard to avoid, and yet, neither man seems particularly interested in indulging in it. that is, until the circumstance calls for it.

brown hues watch in subtle curiosity, head tilting to further smear brunette hair against tile. the deep thought was palpable, though arthur isn't sure if that is because it was obvious or because he was naturally invasive ( leeching off such emotion as if it were fuel for his own ). the man looks away from him. such action draws a small twitch of the lips, some kind of nervousness settling at the agent's chest. he felt that too — anxiety, unsettledness, and arthur is once more unsure if that is because he truly feels that way or he is simply mirroring those feelings from his partner.

warmth at the face gives way to that answer. hues twist and contort into ambers, as if fire ignites upon his soul and bursts where his pupils rest. the other finally speaks but arthur looks away, letting his shifting gaze stare at the window, light catching against his own. the snow melts a little faster under such pressure.

“ can't be a one way street. ” he speaks, and it is the burn of irony that pushes against his lungs knowing that he still hides even when basked in clean white light. it isn't until chestnut browns find his face again that he turns and offers will a small smile. hand over chest curls into small fist, bunches fabric for comfort. as if being exposed hurt, and perhaps it did. but he was willing, and that showed with the left over glisten beneath the lashes. “ alright, soft ball topic. let's say we go to that little bar off of 5th — what are you ordering ?? ”

the quietest chuckle curls up the back of his throat from those few simple words uttered from the quiet man on the floor. touche. left side of face still remains tucked into shadows, mostly, as he turns attention down to the smaller male. arthur wasn't the worst company to have while snowed in -- he quite liked the other agent. no other assigned partner was able to keep pace with him until now. it felt... nice to have that for a change -- someone reliable he could count on when the morning started.

thumb of right hand restlessly traces over that scar tucked into a left palm hidden from sight -- arthur had his cigarette's, graham has his self induced scar. fishing accident gone wrong. but his mind doesn't stay adrift to that for much longer when the offer is tossed into the gentle air.

take turns? a quid pro quo of sorts? it had been some time since the profiler had indulged in such activities. singular blue-hazel optic flickers back to the cold tile beneath feet, contemplating a serious answer to that offer. the silence hangs heavy as a fog over those cold tiles, swirling with the soot &&. ash smeared near him. he takes longer to speak than arthur did, simply giving himself time to weigh every pro &&. con for the matter at hand.

when his voice does finally thunder out at a low gravel, it's softly spoken, the sentiment he wishes to speak, "you aren't the only one not that interesting, arthur." there comes a brief pause, nodding slightly as he turns slightly to better face the man -- that scar to the left portion of his face, curtesy of francis dolarhyde, just barely visible beyond the corner of his lips. "but a quid pro quo is okay with me."