#joker x oc fanfiction

[mistahjs-jester]

Joker x Oc (Part 8)

I scream into the night after awakening to his voice. The dream was a blur of being captured and abused. The ropes burned on my wrists, his lips searing my skin and his eyes burning a hole in my soul. It was so damn real…

    Jonathon hurries into the room and finds me sweating and hyperventilating. He immediately gets to the bed and asks softly. "Would you like me to stay with you tonight?" 

    I stare at him and sigh. "If you would like." He examines me and finds I'm a bit passive. "You're suppressing emotions again." I don't say anything. He states. "You've worked so hard to feel things again, Sage." I nod silently. "Then why not take this as a learning experience? You need to feel what Joker made you feel properly. You have to process it to move forward." He says.  

     I look at him blankly. "Not really. I'd rather not deal with emotions."

    Jonathon exhales a breath and goes to take my hand, catching me off guard. He immediately decides against it and let's it go, recoiling. 

     I watch him carefully as he fights himself. He finally speaks again. "You really need some rest. Let's go back to bed. Therapy later." And with that he lies down next to me, a distance away on the king sized bed and goes to sleep, leaving me to stare at his form as he drifts off to sleep. 

     I decided to get up and do something so I went to go take a shower and put on some grey sweats and a simple black tank top then slipped on some ankle socks before putting on a pair of black and white converse. Taking my phone, I decide to go take a drive to the store to get some things. I put a black hood over my head and a black mask over my mouth and nose, making it seem like I'm sick. After anxiously getting behind the wheel of the vehicle I decide to drive to the old Gotham mart on the outskirts of Gotham near the Narrows. 

      Making it safely to the store, I decide to grab the things to make a lasagna along with breakfast foods and lunch, some wine and chocolate. I maneuver the aisles carefully and as I find some of the things I came for I remember I hadn't told Jonathon where I'm at yet so I decide to shoot him a call. Realizing it was only 5:30 in the morning I curse myself and decide against it, going for all the items I need. We were completely out of everything.

      After making it to the checkout counter unnoticed, I pile my items up and they get scanned one after another gently.

      My heart beats hard as the last item is scanned and I find the cashier is an old friend. I mask my voice, answering the droll questions he asks then finally I head out with my cart to the car without being noticed. 

     Sighing in relief after making it to the car I unload and quickly abandon the cart near the place where they belonged, not wanting to fool with it. I practically speed out of the parking lot and careen down the road until I make it back finally by 7:30 a.m. to a fully awake and absolutely concerned Jonathon Crane.

      Jonathon crosses his arms and looks at the bags in my hands. "You went SHOPPING and FORGOT to tell me in any WAY, SHAPE or FORM?!" His voice was cross and he watched as I wordlessly sat a bunch of bags down, going for more. "You're going to IGNORE ME?" I grab more bags, bring them in and look at Jonathon. "I just figure I get the things in THEN you yell at me for being careless." 

      He sighs loudly and helps me get things in then says loudly. "Something could have happened to you! Did you bloody think of that?! What if someone recognized you under that shitty disguise?!" I roll my eyes and smile under the mask. "It's not that shitty." 

       He glares at me before asking. "What did you get?" I answer lightly. "Lasagna makings, breakfast items and other items for lunch, etc. Oh! And some chocolate." He smiles a little before laughing. "Chocolate? You risked your life for chocolate." I laughed. "I guess I did. I got other things too though. Now we won't starve." He sighs. "I could have gotten one of my men to get you things to cook with."

       He was right but I felt trapped. I explain gently. "I felt confined. I needed to get out." He relents. "Fair enough. We have been staying in an awful lot."

      Relieved he agreed I made breakfast, we sat down quietly enjoying it. The monotony wasn't so bad with him.

[cherrycocaineee]

41. Happy Birthday, Slut - Joker

*Synopsis: It’s Athena’s 19th birthday, it’s also been a complete year since she ran away with the Joker after he killed her abusive father. The Joker wants to make the day special for Athena, wants her to have a good birthday since it’s been awhile. And her birthday present…he’s got something special planned for that.*

*Warning: nsfw, 18+, dumbification, degradation, praising, rough sex, choking, restraints, legal age gap, daddy kink, semi-public sex, whatever else you wanna consider a warning lol.*

*A/N: just a reminder that I’ve changed the character name to Athena bc I had my daughter five months ago and named her Paisley.*

*Athena’s p.o.v*

Rays of sunlight pierced through a crack in the black curtains that covered the large panel glass windows in the room. I groaned, stretching my bed over the black, silk sheets. The Joker wasn’t lying beside me but that was normal most days, he was probably down in his study or something. I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes before throwing my legs over the side of the bed. I flinched when I touched the cold floor. The floor was always so cold, I really needed to get some slippers.

   I push myself up and head to the master bathroom, turning the light on. I turned on the hot water before slipping out of my silk nightgown. It slipped off my body with ease, then I took off my underwear and climbed inside. Hot water cascaded down my small frame, soaking my hair as I rinsed off. I grabbed my loofah and washed my body, then moved on to washing my hair. After my shower, I turned off the water and grabbed my towel, dried off then wrapped it around me before grabbing another towel to dry my hair.

As I walked out, I noticed the bed was remade and there was an outfit sitting out on the comforter. I looked around the room but didn’t see anyone. Either Mister J or one of his henchmen, Frost, did this. I walked over to the outfit and looked at it. It was a short sleeve, red dress with white polka dots and a low v-neck; it was also thigh high and I was sure if I bent over it would live zero to the imagination. There were a pair of white platform pumps that were absolutely gorgeous, a pair of ruby red earrings, and a small white handbag. It was a lovely outfit. I threw it on before going back into the bathroom where I straightened my hair and did my makeup.

   My heels clicked against the marbled floor of the house as I walked down the stairs and headed towards Mister J’s study. Frost was just coming out when I arrived.

 “Good morning, Frost.”

He looked at me and smiled. “Good morning, Athena.”

  “Is Mister J in?”

He nodded his head before opening the door and letting me inside. I thanked him as he closed the door. Sitting behind his desk, Mister J was scribbling some stuff down on some papers; he looked up when he heard my heels. A grin stretched across his painted red lips.

  “Ah, good morning, darling.”

  He stood up from his chair and approached me, his tattooed hands immediately finding my hips. I smiled at him.

 “Good morning, Mister J.”

Mister J leaned down and pressed a sweet kiss against my lips.

 “Happy birthday,” he added against my lips.

 My eyes widened, I couldn’t believe I had forgotten my own birthday. I giggled and touched his chest, my fingertips grazing over the opening of his blood red, button up shirt as well as the ink on his pale skin. He watched me.

  “I’d completely forgotten,” I laughed.

  Mister J laughed too, his fingers touching my face before his fingers gripped my chin and he crammed his lips onto mine. He kissed me for what felt like forever but when he pulled away it felt like the kiss had barely been there.

  “Have you had breakfast yet, birthday girl?”

 I shook my head “no.” He took my hand in his and led me out of the study down to the kitchen. I smiled as he looked at me.

 “You look stunning in your new outfit, darling.” Mister J said.

 “Thank you.”

In the kitchen, Mister J gestured for me to sit down on the barstool before he started making me breakfast. I watched him cook, it was rare for him to be in the kitchen making our own meals. He’d normally tell one of the cooks to do it.

  “Well, aren’t I special,” I giggled

  “You are special, darlin’.” He grinned.

When breakfast was cooked, Mister J placed my plate in front of me and stood behind me with his arms around my waist and his head on my shoulder. The food looked amazing. He had made me waffles with fresh blueberries and strawberries on them, scrambled eggs because he knows I hate runny yolk, and some breakfast sausage. It was absolutely perfect.

 “You aren’t going to eat?” I asked him, shoving a bite of egg in my mouth.

He grinned and shook his head, “no, I’ll be saving my appetite for later this evening.”

I was about to ask him what he meant but then his hands squeezed my exposed thighs. I knew exactly what he wanted, it’s what I’ve been wanting too. Mister J and I hadn’t had sex the entire time we were together and that was because he had been so busy with so many things that he was tired. That and I was a virgin, so the thought of having sex immediately after we just got together didn’t seem appealing to me. I had been afraid that after I gave him what he wanted, he’d leave. But after awhile, I longed for him to touch every part of my body, to feel his cock inside my cunt, and the sounds he would make while he was fucking me.

  Mister J tapped on my head. I hadn’t realized I had froze in deep thought.

“What’s running through that pretty, little head of yours, Athena?” He grinned.

I chewed the remainder of the egg in my mouth before swallowing it. I turned and looked at him, our blue eyes staring into each other. God, he was handsome, no one could convince me otherwise.

  “Do you think that we could…uhm…” God this was embarrassing to ask for.

Mister J watched me intently, waiting for me to say what I was gonna say. I gulped, feeling my cheeks turn red.

  “Come on, sweetheart,” Mister J teased, “Can’t give you what you want if you don’t use those pretty words of yours.”

A tease. He was a ginormous tease. He knew exactly what I wanted.

  “Can we…can we please…please don’t make me say it.”

 “Oh, well then you must not really want it.”

Asshole.

Mister J kissed my neck and I shivered as I felt him move along my neck. His hands squeezed my thighs and I moaned. He chuckled.

 “Mister J,” I whimpered, “I need you.”

 “Need me to what, darlin’?”

 “N-need you to fuck me.”

He grinned wider than I have ever seen. He was waiting for this day just as much as I was. I bit my bottom lip and he stared longingly. He chuckled and looked at me.

 “I sure can, but you’ll have to wait for tonight after all the fun birthday things we do. Now eat your breakfast, you’ll need the energy for what I have in store for you.”

  Mister J walked away from me and headed off probably back to his office. I huffed. He was really making me wait until the end of the day, that was totally rude. I sighed and started finishing my breakfast. After I was done eating, I cleaned my dishes even though the cook insisted that she would do it. I shooed her away, telling her she does enough for me already. When I was finished cleaning my dishes, I headed to a different part of the house but was stopped by Frost.

 “Miss Athena,” he said, “Mister J has asked me to tell you to go out to the car, he’ll be waiting for you there.”

 “Oh? Are we going to his club?” I asked.

 “No, he has something different planned.”

  Frost didn’t say another word to me, he just walked away. I tilted my head and went outside to find Mister J waiting in his purple lamborghini. I approached the car, Mister J pushed the passenger’s side open for me like normal and I climbed in, closing the door.

 “Ready, princess?”

 “Where are we going?” I asked, curiously.

 “Thought you might like to go shopping, get yourself whatever you want. You don’t really spend a lot of my money, so I figured this might be a treat. I’ll go with you so I can make sure you’re actually spending a lot.”

 “You want me to spend a lot?” I asked, with wide eyes.

 “Sweetheart, if it doesn’t say you spent the length of a phone number, I’ll be quite annoyed.”

My eyes widened. He wanted me to spend that much money. I did the math in my head and gasped.

 “But the size of a phone number is like a billion dollars.”

 “Exactly.”

  Mister J started driving towards Gotham. He asked which store I’d like to go to first. I looked down at my phone wondering how the hell I was going to spend a billion dollars or if he was just exaggerating and I didn’t actually have to spend a billion. I perked up. This phone was the same phone I had since I moved to Gotham, Frost had picked it up when he went to get my belongings and kidnap my dad.

 “I would like a new phone, if that’s okay.”

 “‘Course it’s okay!” He laughed before driving me to a phone store.

People in Gotham didn’t really pay any attention to anyone unless they were being robbed or some other criminal act was being performed, mainly violence. So I wasn’t shocked when Mister J walked around the phone store with me, our hands clasped together, and no one jumped to call the police. I was looking at all the phones that they had on the floor while the Joker watched me. Finally I picked an Iphone 13 in a pink color. The Joker paid for it and we headed back to his lamborghini. For the remainder of the day, Mister J took me shopping at various different stores before taking me out to dinner later that evening. The restaurant he took me to was absolutely stunning. There was a chandelier directly above the entire restaurant that illuminated a soft glow over all the tables. Mister J and I were escorted to a VIP section so that neither one of us could be bothered. I was staring at all of the beautifully, expensive art that hung on the walls, the mahogany brown color that mixed with the egg shell white. The restaurant was gorgeous. We sat down and the waitress came in to take our order. Mister J ordered himself a large steak and I ordered myself a grilled chicken salad. I looked at Mister J.

 “Thank you, for all of this today.”

 “You’re welcome but the day’s not over and I’ve got one more thing for you.”

  He had a mischievous grin on his face and I felt my heart rate speed up. He knew what he was doing, that asshole. Our food came and we started eating while chatting about random things. I couldn’t keep my eyes from staring at him. He was handsome. From his green hair, to his ruby red lips, to his tattoos, and his muscular body. God, he wasn’t just handsome, he was sexy. I slowly chewed my food, it tasted good but I didn’t want it right now. Mister J looked up from his steak.

 “You alright, darling?” He asked, grinning.

 I didn’t answer him, I just stood up and walked over to him. I climbed into his lap and he looked at me, a grin stretched across his ruby red lips. I smiled back.

 “Someone couldn’t wait, hm? Impatient little thing.”

“How can I wait when you’re sitting across from me looking so good,” I point out.

 “Well who can argue there, doll?” He laughed, his hands moving to my hips, rubbing small circles against my exposed skin, “I can’t keep my eyes off you either.”

 “Then why are we waiting?” I whispered seductively in his ear.

Mister J ran his hands down my hips to my exposed thighs. I shivered from his touch, my eyes wandering down his exposed chest. He always wore his shirts slightly unbuttoned, giving me a perfect view of his pretty, tattooed chest. I was getting so tired of fantasizing about him fucking his cock into me while I touched myself, I needed it. I ran my fingers down his chest before I started unbuttoning his shirt exposing more of his skin. I sighed softly as I leaned down and peppered his tattooed chest with kisses, leaving behind a trail of dusky rose lipstick against his pale skin. Mister J groaned. That sent a shiver up my spine. I loved how deep his groans were even if I’ve only ever heard them when he was frustrated with his work or someone was pissing him off. This was different, this was a groan of pleasure that I was giving him.

 “Like that?” I asked, my eyelashes fluttering as I looked up at him.

 His hand went to my throat while his other stayed on my thigh. I grin as he moves closer to me.

 “You know I do, doll.”

His grip on my thigh and my throat tighten just a little bit; not enough to hurt me but enough so he was holding me tight. I could feel my cunt practically drooling. Mister J slammed his lips against mine and we kissed feverishly. I wrapped my arms around his neck and deepened the kiss. He wrapped his arms around my waist and I moaned, his tongue running over my bottom lip before slipping it into my mouth. He tasted like steak, obviously, but I could also taste expensive scotch, smoke from his cigars, and just…him. I moaned as I grinded my hips against him, my aching cunt desperate for some type of friction. I was sure I was leaving behind a wet spot on his pants but he didn’t seem to mind. He moved his lips from mine and started kissing and sucking on my neck. I moaned again, my movements becoming rougher as I felt his hard cock through his pants.

  “So pretty,” he whispered before he lifted my dress revealing my black, lacy panties. He grinned softly. “Look at you. All ready, wrapping yourself all pretty for me.”

 I moaned at his words. He grinned and pushed my dress up more until it was completely off of my body. My black, lacy bra being revealed. He growled, his eyes darkening in desire and lust. He pulled me closer to him, his lips attaching to my own. His tongue ran over my mouth and he groaned. I gasped as he squeezed my breast, my eyes rolling back as I filled his bulge pressed against my cunt.

 “Mister J…”

 “Ah,” he interrupted, “what’s my name?”

 “Daddy,” I corrected; his grin stretching further across his face.

 “What can daddy do for you?”

 “Fuck me.”

A low chuckle rumbles from his chest as he grips my breast again and I moan. He held me close to his body, his piercing blue eyes staring into my lust filled eyes.

  “Such a dirty slut wanting me to fuck you in this restaurant,” he grinned, “you like the idea of the waiter coming back in here seeing me stuff your sweet little pussy, huh?”

 His words made my cunt even more wet. I moaned and nodded my head. Whatever got me railed sooner. Mister J pulled me off his lap, making me stand up. He got to his feet too, unclipping my bra with one hand, my breast fully exposed as he tied my wrist behind me back with my bra. The fabric was tight against my skin but I liked it. Once my hands were secured behind my back, Mister J pushed me down to my knees. His shirt was still unbuttoned, but not completely off; he unbuckles his belt and pulls it off before setting it down on his seat. I watched him with doe eyes as he undoes his pants and pulls out his cock. It’s already hard and standing at attention, the tip of his cock already leaking with precum. Drool slips past my lips and he grins.

  “Open wide for daddy, baby.”

  I don’t even hesitate or think about it, I just open my mouth. He guides his cock into my mouth and I moan as he fills my mouth. He moves his hips slowly, his cock moving in and out of my mouth each thrust getting rougher and rougher as the tip of his cock hits the back of my throat. Mister J groans as he grabs my head pushing himself deeper into my mouth. I felt tears prick at the corner of my eyes, my hands struggling in the restraints he had me in. It was my bra so you’d think the fabric would be easily tearable but not for me. Mister J growled.

 “That’s it, baby, suck daddy’s cock.”

 The back of my throat made squelching noises as he fucked my face. I felt tears stream down my face but I was enjoying every moment of it. I ran my tongue over every inch of his cock, groaning as I felt every vein that decorated his cock.

  “Fuck, you’re so good at this.”

I moaned around him. Mister J grunted before pulling me off his dick, I started gasping for air. He turns me around and pushes the food onto the floor before pushing me down on the table, my back facing him but my ass out. He grabs the fabric of my panties and rips them off, tearing the fabric easily. I moan. He kneeled down and pulled my ass cheeks apart, my eyes rolling back as he gave himself a perfect view of both my cunt and my asshole. Mister J spits on my pussy before devouring it, his tongue and mouth slurping and licking at my soaked cunt. I moaned, pressing my head against the table as he ate me out. My eyes rolled to the back of my head as he nipped my clit.

 “Oh fucking god,” I moan out, I grip the side of the table.

  Mister J keeps eating me out, his tongue pushing into my cunt. I tighten around his tongue and he growls. I try to move my hands but can’t. My legs started shaking and I knew I was about to cum.

 “Daddy,” I moaned out, “I’m gonna c-cum.”

 Mister J moved his mouth from my cunt, his chin dripping with my juices. He rubbed my clit harshly, the sound of my arousal echoing in the room mixing with both our heavy breathing. I moaned more as he looked up at me, grinning.

  “Come on, baby, cum for daddy.”

 “Oh fuck, cumming, daddy.”

  My knees buckled as I came hard, my eyes rolling back as a silent scream left my lungs. When I was done cumming, Mister J stood up and picked me up and placed me on the table, spreading my legs. I was still panting from the previous orgasm. Mister J spit on his cock before rubbing it over it and positioning himself in front of my pussy. I propped myself up the best I could so I could see him shove his cock inside me. I moaned as he pushed himself inside me, his cock stretching me out to his width. Mister J groaned.

  “Such a tight, fucking pussy, doll.”

 “Yeah, daddy?” I moan, he nods his head as he starts moving his hips faster and harder. I groan as he pounds into my cunt. Mister J reached his hand up and grabbed my throat and squeezed tightly as he fucked me. His hips moved at an animalistic speed, the table shaking back and forth, his hand on my throat was the only thing that kept me on the table.

 “Holy shit,” I moaned, “you’re so f-fucking deep.”

 Mister J grinned as he continued to fuck himself into me. I fall back on the table, my hands still secured behind my back. With each thrust, my breast bounced. Mister J leaned down and sucked on one of my nipples, the speed of his hips never faltering.

“Such a stupid whore,” Mister J growled roughly, sweat collecting on his body. My own body glistened with a small film of sweat. Mister J grabbed one of my legs and threw it over his shoulder allowing him to go deeper. My eyes rolled back and drool started spilling from my lips and collecting on the table I was one. Mister J watched me, a grin on his face as he continued to move his hips roughly. My heart was hammering inside my chest as adrenaline and pleasure soaked every inch of my nerves. I couldn’t focus on anything else, just the way he cock stretched me out and the sounds coming from my wet cunt each time he drilled himself into me.

  “Look at that,” Mister J grinned, “now we’re getting somewhere.”

 My entire body was buzzing and I was approaching my climax once again. I moaned and arched my back the best I could with my hands behind my back. The fabric of my bra rubbed my wrist raw but I didn’t care.

 “G-gonna cum,” I managed to pant out.

 “Panting?” The Joker laughed, “like a bitch in heat. You wanna cum, doll, beg me for it.”

  His words were so lewd, it was only gonna get more intense from here. I moaned and looked up at Mister J the best I could through teary eyes. I wasn’t crying from pain, but from pleasure.

 “Please, daddy, wanna cum.” I whimper.

He laughs. “You can do better than that, baby. Beg daddy and I’ll let you make a pretty mess on my cock.”

  “Daddy!” I moaned louder as he rubbed my clit at the same time as he fucked me, “f-fuck, please, please let me cum. Need it, need it so fucking bad. Wanna cum, please, please.” I didn’t care if the words made sense or anything, I just needed to cum. Mister J reached down and grabbed by my neck with his free hand and yanked me closer to him, his cock still working its magic. I moaned again.

 “Cum.” It was an order. Either I cum now or not at all. So I came hard all over his cock, my legs shaking and my eyes rolling back. I might have looked like the main character from the exorcist. A scream was ripped from my lungs as my juices coated every inch of his cock, my pussy squeezing around him. He groaned too but didn’t stop. Instead, he pulled me up and sat down on his seat.

  “Ride me.”

 “T-tired.”

  “Don’t think so, doll, you wanted to be an impatient brat, ride me.”

I moved myself up and down on his cock. His hands were on my hips as I bounced up and down. My hair bounced with the movement. My sweaty skin caused some strands to stick to me.

 “That’s it. Ride daddy.”

 “L-legs getting tired, daddy.”

  Mister J looked up at me and smacked my face, not enough to physically cause me pain but enough to tell me that he didn’t care. He was right, I wanted this now and was too impatient to wait when I got home. There was a knock on the door and I covered my mouth. Mister J laughed and pulled my hand down.

 “What is it?” He laughed.

The door opened and the waiter walked in. His eyes practically popped out of his head when he saw me riding the Joker’s cock. Mister J pulled me off of him and bent me over the table.

  “W-was just coming to check on you two,” the waiter stuttered out, I could see the growing tent in his pants.

 “Hold on a second, kid,” Mister J said, he removed one of his golden chains and wrapped it around my neck before pulling on it. Not tight but enough for the cool metal to dig into my hot skin. He slammed himself in from behind and I moaned out again. By now I knew, without actually seeing, that I was completely fucked out. The waiter’s eyes met mine, which were teary eyed and my eyeliner and mascara probably smudged to hell. 

  “See that, kid. This dumb whore likes that you’re watching her get fucked. Her pussy is practically suffocating my cock.”

 The waiter couldn’t move or say anything, he just stood there and watched; his mouth slightly open.

 “Oh my fucking…” I couldn’t even finish my sentence.

 “What a dumb slut,” Mister J laughed, “gonna cum on my dick again in front of this man?”

 “Yes daddy.”

 “Then let’s see it baby. Give this man a show.”

I moaned louder this time as I came hard on his cock for the second time, this being a total of three orgasms in I don’t know how long. Were we here for an hour, two, maybe it was closing time and that’s why the waiter came to check on us. Mister J rubbed my clit quickly and I felt a different type of pressure before I released and ended up squirting for the first time.

 “Ohhh, fuck,” I cry out.

  In front of me, the waiter now had a wet spot on his pants meaning he probably came too. Mister J smacked my ass roughly before grabbing it and continued to fuck himself into me.

 “Gonna breed this cunt, baby, ready?”

 I nod vigorously, still moaning and panting. Mister J fucked himself into my cunt a few more times before he growled and released his cum into my pussy. My eyes rolled back as I felt his entire seed push all the way inside me, deep. Mister J rutted against me, groaning as he watched my greedy pussy take all his cum before he pulled out. He zips himself back up and looks at the waiter.

 “Bring the check.”

 “Y-yes sir.” The waiter ran off and Mister J helped me to my feet.

He untied my hands from my bra and grinned down at me.

  “Get dressed doll, sorry about your panties and bra. Looks like you’ll have to walk out of here with my cum running down your leg.”

 He wasn’t actually sorry but I didn’t mind. In fact, I moaned at the thought. He wrapped his arms around me.

 “Happy birthday, sweetheart. Let’s get home so I can rough you up some more.”

 I giggled and nodded as I got dressed. Mister J paid for the food that we didn’t eat, the waiter refused to make eye contact with either one of us, and we left. I was excited to see what more he had in store for me when we got home.

Tags: @w4nt-h1s-d1ck

[bqu1nns]

intermittently - brian q.

my first fan fic ever!! [clap] [clap] in this fanfic, brian is a minor, 16-17 years old???? and the reader is a minor as well so no freaky stuff!!! leave comments on how i can improve PLEASEEE i love ya bye bye !

word count : 713

january 29th 1992

“i think i love you”, brian says to you, as the confession echoes through the late winter air. his words are pouring out more than he would have hoped. his gaze remained focused on your eyes only, observing your reaction with a mixture of embarrassment and uncertainty. 

he is certainly not the type of highschool teenager to get all shy and nervous around other people but whenever he was around you, brian's demeanor shifted in your presence. he became a gentle and caring soul, a stark contrast to his usual self. from the first day you stepped into high school, he took it upon himself to ensure your well-being, guiding you through the hallways and making sure you found your classes.

the place of confession, in all honesty, isn't ideal. but, it does hold sentimental value – just right outside the back doors of your highschool that had witnessed countless moments between the two of you. from accidental hand touches in the cafeteria line, exchanging silly faces in the hallway and sharing lunches by the football field, this place held a trove of shared memories.

 you always thought to yourself that it was impossible to ever get bored of him. brian had a knack of turning uncomfortable moments into wholesome jokes, gently caressing your shoulder in hopes of making you feel better. everytime he leaves those innocent touches against your skin, you can't help but blush, trying to change the subject as quickly as possible. 

with the help of the cold january breeze nipping against your neck, you snap back to reality. the very boy that you've liked for a year just said the words that you've spent nights fantasizing and giggling against your pillow about. the soft wind tousled his soft brown hair, revealing his furrowed eyebrows, still awaiting for an answer while you were daydreaming.  

a subtle tension lingers in the air between the two of you, like a red string tied to the both of you. brian senses that you felt contemplated in the moment, took a step back, and let you figure out what you were going to say next. he places his hands over his face in complete embarrassment, letting out a nervous laugh and says, “look, i didn't mean to put you on the spot or anything. i just wanted to let you know how i feel for you since i've been sensing some things have changed between the two of us.” 

god! hes sickeningly sweet.

“i.. i never would have expected this,” you say, trying to control your heart from jumping out of your chest. you finally look up to brian to see how beautiful he looks. the winter sun had casted a soft glow on his face, accentuating the sincerity of his brown eyes. 

i wanna kiss him. badly. 

brian, who can't stop smiling, stood in front of you, softly brushing the hair from your face with his fingers. his hands then moved down to your jacket, anxiously playing with the zipper. the awkward silence was filled with unspoken emotions. 

“you know, brian,” you begin softly, “this might sound crazy but, i've been trying to muster those words for the longest time myself.” his lips part gently, waiting to hear what you’ll say next. 

“i love you,” you confessed. his eyes, wide with surprise and joy, met yours, and the entire atmosphere shifted. brian’s mittens, warm against your gentle skin, cupped your cheek. “i've been waiting to hear those words for so long,” brian whispered against your forehead, pressing a kiss against it. 

a moment of hesitation flows through the both of you as your bodies are close against one another. everything is silent except for the sound of the two sounds of breathing and giggles leaving the both of you. he leans in closer to your face, merely inches away. without any needed words, both of your lips met in a kiss. 

you finally feel the lips you've been wanting to kiss ever since the day he lended you his coat when you were feeling a “bit cold”. since the day he held you gently in his arms as you cried in his arms. since the day he “accidentally” kissed your cheek when you accomplished something that you've been wanting. 

since forever. 

[knoepfl]

A Christmas Dance with Arthur

Characters:

Arthur Fleck: A shy, modest man with a surprisingly good sense of rhythm when he lets himself relax.

Reader: A spirited and caring person who treasures moments of joy and togetherness.

Trigger Warnings:

None. This story is pure holiday fluff with a gentle romance.

Masterlist

Words: 761

---

Back in your cozy apartment after a magical evening at the Christmas market, you glance over at Arthur as he settles into the warmth of the room, a shy but relaxed smile softening his features. The evening has been a dream, filled with laughter and closeness, and you want to end it on the perfect note.

You head over to your old record player, selecting a lively classic that fills the room with unmistakable holiday cheer—Merry Christmas Everyone. The familiar beat and upbeat tune make you grin, and you glance back at Arthur with a mischievous sparkle in your eyes.

“Care to dance?” you ask, offering your hand.

Arthur’s eyes widen just a bit, but he doesn’t hesitate for long. He chuckles, taking your hand with a slight shake of his head. “I’ll try to keep up,” he says with a modest grin, but there’s a spark of confidence in his voice.

As the beat picks up, he moves with surprising ease, his steps smooth and effortlessly in rhythm with the music. You watch, delighted, as he twirls you out and pulls you back in, his movements graceful and natural.

"Snow is falling, all around me, children playing, having fun…” you both sing in unison, your voices filling the room. Arthur grins, swaying to the rhythm as his voice, soft but steady, blends with yours.

“You’re a good dancer, Arthur!” you exclaim, laughing as he dips you playfully, keeping time with the beat.

He laughs, his cheeks a bit pink but his eyes bright. “I, uh… I might have picked up a thing or two,” he says, his voice laced with humor. For a moment, he forgets all his usual hesitation and simply lets himself enjoy the moment.

"Time for parties and celebrations, people dancing all night long…” Arthur twirls you again, singing the line with surprising ease, his voice growing a little stronger with each note. You beam up at him, amazed at how relaxed he seems, completely in the moment.

As you both sway and spin around the room, Arthur surprises you again, keeping perfect time to the song’s beat and even adding in a few moves that make you giggle. When the chorus hits—“Merry Christmas, everyone!”—you both sing it loud and joyfully, laughter spilling from your lips as Arthur holds you close.

When the song ends, you’re out of breath, cheeks flushed as you look up at him with admiration. Arthur, too, is glowing, his smile unguarded and filled with a joy that feels almost childlike.

“You know,” you say softly, reaching up to brush a lock of hair from his forehead, “I love this side of you.”

His expression shifts, a hint of his usual shyness returning as he chuckles, trying to regain his cool demeanor. “Oh, really?” he says, though he can’t quite keep the soft smile from his face.

You nod, leaning closer. “Really. There’s so much to love about you, Arthur. And tonight… tonight is just the beginning.”

Arthur’s eyes shine with a deep, quiet happiness as he holds you close, and for a moment, the world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you together in this perfect, unforgettable moment.

Arthur’s smile softens, and as he holds you close, you feel a quiet warmth settling between you, a perfect stillness that seems to fill the room. His gaze meets yours, and for a moment, neither of you speaks, lost in the unspoken connection that lingers in the air.

Slowly, he reaches up, his hand brushing against your cheek, his touch gentle and hesitant, as if he’s still surprised that this is real. You close your eyes, leaning into his touch, and before you know it, he leans forward, his lips meeting yours in a soft, tender kiss.

It’s gentle and unhurried, filled with all the words he can’t say, and you respond with a quiet warmth, your hand resting on his shoulder, pulling him closer. Time seems to stop as you lose yourself in the softness of the moment, each of you breathing in the presence of the other.

When you finally part, he looks at you with a mixture of awe and happiness, a quiet joy that shines through his usual shyness. He smiles, his voice just above a whisper. “Thank you… for tonight.”

You smile back, your hand still resting on his, fingers intertwined. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

And in that moment, as you stand together, the gentle warmth of your first kiss lingering between you, you know that this is only the beginning of something truly beautiful.

---

Author's Note: Thank you for joining Arthur and the reader in this soft, heartwarming Christmas moment! This story was all about joy and connection, inspired by the season’s magic. If you enjoyed this little holiday romance, I’d love to hear your thoughts. Wishing you a very merry Christmas and a cozy, love-filled holiday season!

[misssharrington]

— ✧ ˚ · bad luck !!

. . . ࿐ྂ ❝ zero | prologue ❞

wattpad | playlist

The beginning of his life is hazy for Leon. The most he can remember of his mother is that she was more than often unconscious. He can remember scavenging their apartment for food, and being scared of the needles he'd find scattered about. He can remember the strange men that would come in and out of their home. He can remember that at age eight he was old enough to understand he was not safe in his own home, and that he had to protect his sister and leave.

He was envious of Lina, he had to admit. She was four years younger than him, too young to have any recollection of what they had to endure by themselves. Starving when they had no food. Freezing when they had no shelter. And no one ever came for them. In a world full of superheroes, they had to save themselves. 

It was a few years into their homelessness when they were found. The city of Gotham was a divided one. It was the birthplace of crime and corruption. There were no more heroes or villains, but groups of people who opposed each other, and would do anything to destroy each side. With hearts full of pity, they were taken in. They gave them food, shelter, and taught them how to fight. More and more lost children came, and soon enough, there were so many children, they became a society of their own. An underground generation, being raised to bring a revolution among the people of Gotham that had ignored them. 

Leon soon realised that Lina and himself were not like the others. Heightened senses and reflexes could've given it away, if it wasn't for the claws and fangs the siblings had both grown into. They discovered that they were metahumans, people born with genetic mutations that gave them certain controversial abilities. The two became an infamous pair among their peers, the Beasts of Gotham.

But as they grew, Leon could sense a difference between himself and his sister. She seemed to be more - fascinated - with violent methods, while Leon had always thought that violence was never an answer. You can't solve violence with violence, he would tell her. Then nothing's different. Nothing's changed. Everything stays how it was, and no one knows any better. And when she replied, in her sweet, innocent voice, No one listens unless you make them listen. You know that. He knew that the cycle of violence was real, and he feared that he was losing her to it.

remember to like and reblog !!

[igot-the-juice]

The Scarred - Chapter 11 🩸🔥🔞

Masterlist

Summary - Penelope Miller works at a florist shop in Gotham, barely getting by in the corrupted city. Her life is shrouded by trauma and judgement with little light to find her way with. However, when a certain painted face starts making himself known to her, things take a turn.

Warning - This chapter contains smut but can be read without it. Smut will start after the second banner. MDNI/NSFW!

The smell of iron filled her lungs, the blood stuck to her face invading her senses as the man now lay still on the floor below her. With a crazed look in her eye, she kicked away the arm that was now detached, heavy as it slid across the stained floor. 

She began to breathe heavily, unable to decipher whether or not she had really done it. But the smell alone brought her to the reality of the situation. 

As the men began to pick up what was left of the body, she began to smile, then it turned into a chaotic giggle. She turned to face the Joker and it immediately dropped.

He stared at her with such an intensity that turned her to stone, eyes somehow darker than they ever were. Her lips parted in a silent question, worried about whether or not she overstepped. 

She heard the doors shut behind her and suddenly, in a few large strides, he approached her and aggressively pulled her into him. His lips crashed down onto her own blood stained ones, not possibly caring less in that moment as he practically suffocated her. 

At first she was stiff, baffled by his sudden behavior that seemed completely out of character for him. 

Then she finally let go and accepted it. 

Her arm reached up around his neck, reciprocating the affection with equal intensity. Nothing was held back by either of them, his hands wandering over her figure as she kept her own planted, choosing to focus on the sensation of his scarred lips. 

She sighed once he pulled away, eye slowly opening to gaze into the hazel gems before her. 

“J?” Penelope whispered, the nickname slipping out without a second thought. His expression faltered when it reached his ears, but their usual spark soon followed after. 

He didn’t correct her. He didn’t snap. Instead, a low chuckle rumbled from his throat, rolling into a sharp, sinister laugh that echoed off of the concrete walls. His gloved fingers came up to her face, tracing the scarred side with surprising gentleness, his grin stretching impossibly wide.

“Well, well, well,” He rasped, voice dripping with twisted delight. “Look who’s getting familiar now, hm?”

Penelope tensed but didn’t pull away. There was something unsettling in his gaze, a wildness dancing just beneath the surface. Yet there was a strange acceptance, too. As if she’d unlocked a piece of him. Something private. Dangerous.

“Ya know, doll,” He cooed, the nickname rolling off his tongue mockingly, yet with a hint of genuine fondness. “Most people aren’t brave enough to give me nicknames.” He licked at his lips. “Ya might want to be careful, though,” He leaned in close, his lips brushing her ear. “Calling me that? That’s… close. And close gets people hurt.”

His fingers dropped from her face, drifting lazily down to her shoulder, lingering on the edge of her missing arm. 

He pulled back just enough to meet her gaze again, those crazed eyes searching hers, trying to see if she’d flinch. But Penelope held her ground, her heart racing, something in her stirring. A newfound sense of chaos, creeping up, waking.

“I’ll take my chances,” She whispered, her voice steady despite the flutter of fear and excitement in her chest.

The Joker’s smile returned, wider than ever. He threw his head back and laughed, a sound that sent chills down her spine.

-

When she entered her apartment, she ignored the presence she knew would already be there, prioritizing a shower to get the now dried and crusted blood off of her. His questions of concern were muffled as she mindlessly wandered to her bedroom to pick out her pajamas. 

“Penelope!” Liam finally yelled, gripping firmly onto her shoulders and turning her to face him. For once, he was truly speechless. Unable to hide his worry for what inevitably came to be his best friend, brow furrowed.

“I’m fine, Liam.” She offered a genuine smile, resting her hand over one of his own. She brushed past him towards the bathroom to turn on the shower and closed the door. 

Questions flooded in his mind as he impatiently waited on the couch, the TV now completely blocked out. His leg bounced anxiously, biting at his nails. He practically jumped out of his skin when the door opened and she walked in, acting as if nothing even happened. 

She searched through her cupboards for something, plastic crinkling in her hands as she opened a pack of popcorn and popped it into the microwave. 

“Penny?” Liam cautiously called to her. She simply hummed in response. He stood and gradually made his way over to her. “Did he hurt ye?” 

“Quite the opposite.” Penelope answered casually, unloading the dishwasher as she spoke. 

“Penny. Ye know ye can trust me.”

“I killed a man, Liam!” She finally blurted out as she whipped to face him. “He found the man that caused this,” She motioned to her deformed body. “And I killed him.” 

The two of them stood silently, searching the other for any sign of distrust or betrayal. While she overthought his reaction, Liam had assumed it was only a matter of time before it happened. As soon as the Joker made himself known to her, he knew it was over.

“The scary part isn’t even that I did it. It’s that I enjoyed it. I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to. Not after what he did to me, Liam.” Her voice began to break, lip beginning to tremble. “Not after…” She sniffed and wrapped her arm around his torso, relieved that his warm comfort was provided without a moment’s hesitation. 

He gently hushed her, cradling her head while his other hand’s thumb caressed her back. “It’s alright, lovin’.” He whispered. 

Liam pulled away, hands gently taking hold of her face to look at him. 

“There is nothin’ wrong with ye. Nothin’ wrong with what happened, ye understand? He got what he deserved, yeah?” 

Penelope nodded as he wiped away her tears, grabbing the popcorn from the microwave before leading them to the couch. She wrapped herself in a blanket, opening the bag and nibbling on a small handful. 

“Did he scream?” He asked in a joking tone once she calmed down more. To his relief, she giggled. 

“Like a pussy.” 

-

The flower shop was quiet, the soft scent of roses and lilies filling the air as Emma arranged a bouquet of daisies behind the counter. The bell over the door jingled softly as Penelope stepped inside, her movements slow and careful. Emma’s eyes lifted to greet her, but the smile faded slightly when she saw Penelope’s face—pale, drawn, and distant.

“Hey, hun,” Emma called gently, setting the flowers aside. “Everything okay?”

Penelope gave a half-smile, but it didn’t reach her eye. “Yeah, just couldn’t sleep.”

Emma frowned, watching her carefully. She knew Penelope had been through a lot, but lately, something had shifted. The girl had always been quiet, but now there was a tension beneath the surface, as if she were on edge, waiting for something. Emma noticed the slight twitch in Penelope’s remaining hand, her fingers trembling for a moment before she shoved them into her pocket.

“I’m gonna go handle the new shipment.” Penelope asked, her voice strained.

Emma nodded slowly but kept her eyes on her as she made her way to the door leading into the back room. “Of course, sweetheart. You sure you’re feeling alright, though? You’ve been… distant lately.”

Penelope stiffened, her back to Emma as she began unpacking a box of tulips. “I’m fine.” She said quickly. Too quickly.

Emma bit her lip, the maternal instinct in her stirring. She walked over, placing a hand on Penelope’s shoulder. “Look, I know things have been hard for you, but if something’s wrong… you can talk to me. You know that, right?”

Penelope flinched at the touch, though she tried to hide it with a small shrug. “I know. But really, it’s nothing. I’m just tired.”

Emma’s brows furrowed. She didn’t believe that for a second. There was a darkness in Penelope’s expression, something haunted and restless. Emma had seen it before in people who were hiding something, something dangerous. She couldn’t help but feel a knot of worry tighten in her chest.

“I just want to make sure you’re safe, Penelope,” Emma said softly. “You’ve been acting off. And it scares me.”

Penelope hesitated, her fingers gripping the edge of the box. “I’m fine, Emma.”

But Emma wasn’t convinced. Her heart ached as she watched her, knowing that whatever it was, Penelope was shutting her out. 

“I’m here if you need me,” Emma said quietly, retreating back to the counter. “Just… don’t push yourself too hard, okay?”

Penelope nodded, but Emma could see the flicker of guilt in her eye before she turned away.

A little while passed and eventually it was close to closing. Penelope sat behind the counter scribbling away in her journal, however more aggressive than usual. The door chimed as it opened, a sigh of relief falling from her lips when she saw it was only Liam. And it didn’t go unnoticed by Emma. 

“Ey there, Penny.” He greeted, giving a simple nod to Emma as he charismatically leaned on the counter in front of the former. “Day treatin’ ye right?” Penelope shrugged. Emma decided to disappear into the back, but took care to listen in on their conversation.

“As much as it can, I suppose.” 

“Ye still up fer the range?” He asked, concerned about whether she was too tired or overwhelmed. 

“Yeah, I’ll be okay. Don’t think I’ll be up for being there as long, though.” 

“No worries about that, I figured as much.” He glanced over at the clock and Penelope did the same, packing up her things to leave. She walked over to the back room and leaned in the doorway. 

“I’m heading out, Emma. Text me if you need anything, okay?” The brunette gave an appreciative smile. 

“I will. You take care now, okay? Be safe.” 

“You too.” Penelope offered a smile of her own before meeting Liam at the door to leave. 

The range was rather large, hidden away in the outskirts which she appreciated. With how big it was, she was surprised that they were the only ones there besides the owner at the front. 

They stood in a separate room where the actual range was, handguns aimed down range and firing. After finishing an iteration they took their ear covers off, the pressure of them irritating her head. 

“She doesn’t know about what ye’ve been up to, does she?” Liam suddenly asked, catching her off guard. Penelope hesitated before answering. 

“No.” Liam leaned against the nearby wall, eyeing her. 

“I’d be careful about her if I were ye.” 

“Why’s that? She doesn’t know, and it’s going to stay that way so long as I can help it.” Penelope readied her gun for the next iteration, then set it back down carefully.

“Ye see, that’s the thing. Ye don’t trust her enough to tell her. And that says a lot. Ye told me and yet ye’ve barely known me for half as long.” 

Liam pushed himself off of the wall and began making his way towards her. 

“Ye don’t trust her as much as he think ye do, Penny. She may be a friend, but she’s not loyal. The second she gets even a hint of what yer up to, she’s gonna get curious and try to find out more, and when she does, she’s goin’ straight to the cops.” 

“She wouldn’t do that to me -“

“But she would.” Liam spoke sternly, urging her to believe him. “I’ve dealt with plenty of her kind and it never ended well. Even just today, I saw the way she was eyein’ us. She’s already suspicious.” 

Liam raised his hands to rest on her shoulders.

“Ye need to be careful around her. I know it’s hard, she’s yer friend, I get it. I do. But I’m speakin’ from experience. As much as it hurts to hear, ye can’t trust her.” 

Penelope cast her gaze downwards, struggling to take in all that she was being told. 

“Come on. Let’s keep goin’.” He nodded towards the targets in front of them, taking notice of the turmoil going on in her head. 

As always, he walked her to her apartment when finished. Both because he was right down the hall and it was just the right thing to do. But just before she opened her door, he stopped her. 

“Just think about what I said, yeah? I’m tryin’ to keep ye safe.” Penelope paused, thinking. Then she finally nodded and Liam smiled at her, patting her shoulder before walking to his apartment. 

Penelope turned back to her door and opened it, a familiar smell reaching her nose making her sigh as the door softly clicked shut behind her. She looked over at her couch where the notorious clown-like man sat comfortably. He lounged back like he belonged there, flipping through channels with an air of indifference, his lips twisted into that familiar, unsettling grin.

Her heart raced. She didn’t know what to feel. Fear, confusion, curiosity? The same mixture of emotions had been bubbling inside her since that night. The night she’d felt his lips on hers, tasted the madness, and the thrill of what she’d done. The blood on her hands still felt so fresh.

“You’re here.” Penelope finally said, breaking the silence, her voice hoarse but steady.

Joker didn’t look away from the screen, but his grin widened. “Where else would I be?”

She swallowed hard, moving slowly towards the couch, her eyes never leaving him. “I don’t know… plotting, terrorizing people. Laughing at something burning, maybe?”

He chuckled, the sound low and dark, and patted the seat next to him. “Sheesh, can’t a guy just catch a break sometimes? Hm?” He jested, eyes still fixated on the TV. “Sit down, toots, we’re watching a comedy.”

She hesitated, glancing at the TV. Some mindless sitcom played, laugh tracks echoing. She took a seat, keeping her distance but not too far. The cushion sagged slightly under her, and she found herself staring at him, trying to read something - anything - in his chaotic, unpredictable eyes.

“What’s so funny about this?” She asked, her voice soft, unsure whether she meant the show or their entire situation.

Joker’s eyes slid over to her, sharp and amused. “Oh, nothing about the show. It’s the idea of it. People trapped in their boring little lives, pretending everything’s fine.” He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “It’s hilarious, don’t ya think?”

Penelope’s gaze shifted from the TV to him, searching his face. She couldn’t understand how he saw the world. He terrified her, fascinated her, made her want to crawl away and stay close all at once. Her fingers traced the edge of the cushion nervously. “How do you live like this?”

“Like what?” He asked flatly, his eyes glinting as if her question was a challenge.

“Like…” She struggled for the right words. “Without… rules. Without a plan. Just… chaos.”

He laughed, leaning back, stretching his arms over the back of the couch, his fingers brushing her shoulder. “Well, I wouldn’t say I live in chaos.” His voice was soft now, almost soothing, but there was still a biting tone to it. “Yeah, I cause chaos. But live in freedom. Freedom from their rules. Their endless nagging, the ‘don’t do this, do this’, ya see? You’ve tasted it, haven’t you? The freedom. The power.”

Penelope tensed, the memory of that night creeping back in. The rush of adrenaline, the way her hands had trembled… then steadied. “That’s freedom…?” She whispered. 

Joker’s grin faltered for just a second, and he tilted his head, watching her closely. “You did what you wanted to do. Without worrying about consequences. Their consequences. The consequences of everyone trying to control you and be someone that you’re not.”

She bit her lip, looking down at her lap. “How can I be sure there won’t be consequences?”

“You’re lookin’ at it, toots.” Joker said, his tone playful but condescending. “You can choose to pretend everything’s fine, just like everyone else. Go back to being quiet, timid little Penelope. Or…” He leaned in close. “You can be free.”

Her pulse quickened, and she turned to face him, searching his eyes.“Why do you want me to change?” She asked finally, her voice quiet.

Joker’s gaze softened, just for a moment, as if he was considering her question seriously. “I don’t want you to change. I want you to stop pretending. I see potential. Potential that is greater than you’d ever know. And I finally got a taste of it. And so did you. The real question is…” He shifted his body to face her. “Can you live with it? Because once you go down this road, doll, there’s no turning back. Your cute little world will not be there for you anymore. It’ll show its true colors. You’ll see. And once you do?” He threw her a look with an accompanied gesture. “I can guarantee you won’t want to go back.” 

Penelope wasn’t sure what to do, what to think. She couldn’t help but believe him. Everything he said had some resemblance of truth. Was the freedom truly worth it? Was it worth throwing everything away? Emma? Liam? If the way she felt that night at the warehouse was only a taste of it, she could only imagine how she would feel if she just completely let go. 

She was sure Liam would understand, he was supportive of her every step of the way. No matter if it was morally questionable. 

But Emma? 

Penelope thought about what Liam had told her. Emma was a close friend. A mother figure, even. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe Liam was right about her. She kept telling herself that she never told Emma any of what was happening for her protection, but could she have just been lying to herself to prevent her own guilt? Did she truly trust Emma, or did she just cling to the brunette for lack of options? 

A tear trickled its way down her cheek, not even noticing beforehand as she was lost in thought. She looked Joker in the eye and spoke with a trembling voice. 

“I don’t want to live like this anymore…” Penelope shook her head. “I’m tired of feeling stuck.” She noticed a subtle shift in his expression, hardened. He suddenly rose to his feet with newfound determination. 

“Get up.” He demanded, catching her by surprise. After a moment, she stood and he grabbed her wrist, pulling her into the bathroom and facing her towards the mirror. “Ya want to stop living by their rules, hm?” Penelope nodded in desperation. “Take off the bandages.” 

Her eye widened in disbelief, breathing halted. He stepped closer to her, his warmth pressed against her. 

“Break their norm. Show them you’re not theirs to control anymore. Stop trying to be like them.” He leaned in next to her ear. “Send a message.”

Penelope took a shaky breath, meeting Joker’s eye through the mirror. Her heart raced, blood rushing in her ears as her hand fought to leave her side. Slowly but surely, it raised. Her hands caressed the edge of her bandages, toying with the fabric until she finally began to pull them off with care. 

She refused to look at herself, tears now streaming down her cheek as a sob left her lips. She felt cool leather grip her jaw, forcing her to look at her reflection in the mirror. 

The sight seemed foreign to her no matter how many times she took them off. The texture was soft, yet uneven. It was finally healed with skin covering where her eye should have been.

“Now that… is a doll.” 

His knuckles caressed down her neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. The tickling sensation caught her breath, head leaning back against him. This enigmatic man made her feel alive, made her want to embrace the freedom he spoke of as his hands slid down her slim figure, igniting something within her. 

"There ya go." Joker whispered, his breath hot against her ear. 

Penelope's gaze fell on her exposed scars, and for the first time, she felt truly wanted. She felt beautiful. 

"Now how about that freedom?" He growled, hands slipping under her shirt and caressing her soft skin. As his skilled fingers found her hardened nipples, Penelope's breath hitched. His marred lips mixed with her own textured neck, covering it with nips and licks as he practically worshiped her scars. She wanted this man, wanted to feel his touch. She yearned to explore this new, uninhibited side of herself that he was awakening.

Joker’s hands then lifted her shirt, pulling it off over her head and soaking in the sight of her with a heated gaze. 

More scars littered her left side, similar to what was on her face. He felt her begin the retreat, but his hands quickly snatched her wrists to keep her where she was. “None of that. Got it?” He threatened and she nodded in response. 

He then unclasped her bra and tossed it away, hands moving to cup and toy at her breasts. One hand began to travel lower, unbuttoning her pants and sliding them down her slender legs. Once she stepped out of them he turned her around to face him and pushed her until she was leaning against the bathroom counter. Her legs opened, inviting him to stand in between them. One of his thighs pressed against her radiating core, flexing his muscle until her head leaned back with a sigh. 

He released a feral growl and reached around to the back of her head, pulling her into him so their lips clashed against each other. The kiss was rough and full of need, Penelope lightly moaning into it as she ground herself against his thigh for some much needed relief. 

“Yeah? Ya like that?” Joker taunted before snatching her thighs and setting her on top of the empty space of the counter. “C’mere.” He dropped to his knees, his hands pulling down her panties and spreading her pussy lips, revealing her glistening, swollen clit. He inhaled her scent, a mix of desire and her unique musk, before plunging his tongue deep inside her, making her gasp and grip the edge of the counter.

Joker’s tongue was a skilled weapon, licking and sucking at her clit, sending waves of pleasure through Penelope's body. He teased her entrance, dipping his tongue just inside before pulling away, only to return with renewed fervor.

"J -" Penelope moaned, her head thrown back. "Please, don’t stop."

Joker hummed, the vibrations sending shivers through Penelope. “Dangerous thing to beg me like that, doll.” 

He warned before he continued his oral assault, bringing her closer and closer to the edge of orgasm. Just as she was about to climax, he pulled away, leaving her breathless and desperate.

"Thought it’d be that easy, hm?" He said, standing. 

Penelope, wild with desire, reached for Joker’s trousers, undoing them with tremulous fingers. Once unbuttoned, her hand tremulously reached inside to grasp his hardened cock, pulling it free from its confines.

Joker’s cock was thick, the head glistening with pre-cum as she stroked it, her touch tentative yet eager. "Like whatcha see?" He asked, his voice hoarse with desire.

Penelope nodded, her eye never leaving his cock as she continued to stroke it, marveling at the power she held in her hands. "Please, J…" She whispered, her voice thick with need.

He didn't need to be asked twice. 

He gripped onto her hip tightly, spreading her legs wide as he positioned himself at her entrance. 

“Now what’d I say about begging?” With one smooth thrust, he filled her, his cock stretching her pussy as he slid deep inside.

Penelope cried out, her body welcoming the invasion, her pussy clenching around his cock as he began to move, his hips thrusting in a steady rhythm. He leaned forward, his lips finding hers in a hungry kiss. 

Joker’s hands gripped her thighs, spreading her wider as he pounded into her, his cock hitting her sweet spot with each thrust. Penelope's body trembled, her orgasm building with each delicious stroke.

"That’s it," He growled against her lips. "There ya go, toots. Come on, show me how much you want it.” 

His words were like a trigger, and Penelope's body exploded in a cascade of pleasure. She cried out, her pussy clenching around Joker’s cock as waves of ecstasy washed over her. He followed her over the edge, his cock throbbing as he emptied his load deep inside her, filling her with his hot cum.

As their heart rates slowed and their breathing returned to normal, Joker leaned back, watching as one of his hands ran over her scarred body. When their eyes met, Penelope smiled. Eye sparkling with newfound confidence. 

[duckyhowls]

(Part 1/8) The Joker - "Our Cell"

WARNINGS: None THEMES: False Imprisonment, Innocent Cohabitation, Mafia/Gangster, Criminally Insane, Belated Love Epiphany, Protective Joker, Possessive Joker, and "Sunny vs Dark" Pairing. CHARACTERS: OC, Warden Jones, Officer Hans, The Joker, and Bruce Wayne (mentioned). SYPNOSIS: An innocent woman was in the wrong place at the wrong time and was framed for murder and thrown into Arkham. What makes it worse is that the asylum is experiencing an overflow of patients and Esme has to room with the Joker. How will an innocent girl survive in this place if she was stuck bunking with the most criminally insane guy around?

“Wait, no…” Esme began, staring right at the document on the old desk in front of her, her pale green eyes wild with shock as she read the words printed in black-and-white. “You can’t be serious!”

The man seated across from her in an expensive looking leather seat pressed his hands together neatly. Warden Jones was a thin man, nothing really special about him other than the one missing finger on his right hand. His pinkie, to be precise. Ever since Esme had met the man a few minutes ago, ‘how’ he had lost it had been on her mind. That was until she was given the document to see.

“I am extremely serious.” Warden Jones readjusted his reading glasses and pointed to the section at the bottom which had been signed. “It was approved by the Wayne Health Department of Gotham. With the way the cells are overflowing with sick patients, there is nowhere else to put you but with him.”

“Surely, not…” Esme wasn’t stupid. Sure, she was small and looked easy to be considered passable to bend under authority, but she wasn’t brain dead. There was definitely reasons why the Joker himself didn’t have a cellmate yet, and the thought of being next made goosebumps rise on the back of her neck and arms.

“I’m afraid I have no choice,” Warden Jones sighed, though he didn’t sound regretful. “The CEO of the entire company, Bruce Wayne, himself, signed on it. It is out of my hands.”

“But this isn’t right!” Esme shouted, beginning to panic now. “I’m a woman. You can’t room me up with some guy. Plus, you’ve heard the stories – hell, you probably have seen them with your own eyes! Warden Jones, the guy is one of the most criminally insane-”

“And you’re not?” The wardens eyes were narrowed dangerously. “The same girl who blew all those kids up down south?”

“I told the judge and I’ve told everyone else!” Esme hissed, her throat closing up at the horrible memories of nobody believing her in that courtroom. “I wasn’t apart of anything. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time! Framed!”

Warden Jones pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose and let out a breath of exasperation. “Even if that were true, it is as I said. It’s out of my hands, Ms. Rye. The guards will escort you to the cell now.”

“But this is-”

“The sooner you meet him, the sooner this gets over with Ms. Rye.”

You mean the sooner I get put out of my misery! Esme thought bitterly.

Behind her, Officer Hans, a plain, shortish man with reddish-brown stubble and brown eyes, grabbed her upper arm to pull her up to her feet. Esme didn’t care he was touching her, though. Out of all the patients she could have been paired with, it just had to be the most dangerous man in Gotham City – The Joker.

From what Esme had heard from her peers and the chaos she had seen on the TV; the guy was one of the craziest to exist in the city, maybe even the world. The Joker was described by many as an unpredictable terrorist, that the Joker was a psychopathic criminal and was extremely volatile, especially when it came to conducting his illegal business.

Though, Esme herself had never met the man or even seen him up close, it was definitely someone she really didn’t want to meet. Esme preferred to steer clear from all the risky stuff, thanks. Though, even her cautiousness couldn’t protect her from getting framed for murder and ending up in Arkham.

The warden barely even wished her luck as Officer Hans escorted her out of the office and down the steps to a long hallway which led in the E-BLOCK district. This was where they held the most dangerous of patients such as Jervis Tetch and Jonathan Crane. It’s where they held the Joker. And it was when they neared her new cell that Esme realised that this was actually happening, and that it all started because she decided to go out for once in her life and take a fucking walk.

Esme flinched out of her anxious train of thoughts by the sound of Officer Hans’ jingling keys unlocking the cell door and opening it with a loud, whiny creak. He then shoved Esme forward harshly, almost making her lose her footing and fall to the cold concrete ground.

“Have fun in there girlie.” Officer Hans gave her one last sneer before locking the door closed again and the sounds of his fading footsteps tapping against the laminate flooring in the hall disappeared with him.

Esme’s heart was beating so fast, and her blood felt hot under her skin the longer the eerie silence went on in this dark room.

In the dimly lit shadows of the cell, there was a flash of fluoro green that glinted in the small dapple of light coming from the door, and Esme froze. He was there, at the back of the cell, watching her. She could see him now that her eyes adjusted to the change of lighting. He was sitting on the bottom bunk, leaning forward to eagerly look at her. He was wearing the typical orange scrubs Arkham made all the patients wear, and his pale complexion contrasted vastly against the dark tone of the cell.

The quietness between them frightened her. Esme found that she could barely move as she watched him like some deer in headlights.

Then, a wide, red smile grew on his face, and the light glinted against his broken teeth which had been fixed and filled in with silver replacements. Creepy, yet, startingly nice looking at the same time. Like Esme had noticed, the Joker stood out against the dark vibes of their shared cell, and it was now that he stood up and slowly stepped closer that she could see the various scars and tattoos littered here and there on his face and arms. Despite that strange uniqueness, he was sort of nice looking…

“And who are you?” He purred, cocking his head to the side a little.

Esme bit her lip and closed her eyes as her anxiety flooded through her chest. She was desperately hoping that he wouldn’t just buzz out and try and kill her.

When she opened her eyes, Esme was startled when he was now only a few inches in front of her. The Joker’s grin, if it were even possible, just got even wider at the way she flinched.

“I think I’m gonna like you.” He grinned.

Well, that’s concerning.

[PART 2 COMING SOON]

[snazzynacho]

Wrong Number

Bojan Cvjetićanin x Fem!oc

In which a woman accidentally texts the wrong number, and it might be the best mistake she's ever made.

Chapter 1

Chapter Two:

Bojan's phone chimes.

"Look who didn't turn off notifications during rehearsal. Again." Jan drags out the sound of each word, making fun of Bojan.

Bojan holds his hands up in protest. "Sorry! Sorry!"

Kris is closest to their bags and sees the lit-up phone screen due to the recent notification. It shows the first sentence of the new text and he freezes. It's from an unknown number for a start, and it says 'Your girl made it to Liverpool'...

He quirks an eyebrow up at Bojan, holding the phone out for him.

"Your girl has messaged you," he can't help but giggle, and suddenly the whole room is staring right at Bojan. Jan, Jure and Nace all glance at each other inquisitively, trying to hold their laughter.

"What?" Bojan doesn't mean to snatch his phone out of Kris' hand but, damn, what the hell does he mean? 'Your girl...' His girl? Bojan has a girl? Even Bojan himself was not aware of that.

Bojan taps in the code for his phone, unlocking it. He taps the green iMessage icon and proceeds to read the new text from an unknown number. The band huddle around him, giggling at the situation.

"Bojči! You have a girlfriend and you never told us?!" Jan calls out, making the others laugh.

"Yeah, what does the text say?" Nace asks, but he doesn't wait for an answer as he towers over Bojan and the rest of the band, so he uses the opportunity to snatch his phone.

"Will you all stop snatching my phone, please!" Bojan exclaims as he watches the chaos in front of him.

Nace reads out the text "Your girl," he glimpses up at Bojan with a teasing look in his eye, "made it to Liverpool. I can't wait to see you. KISS KISS KISS!" He gets louder and louder as he finishes reading aloud the text. "KISSES, BOJČI! KISSES?! Who is this mysterious lady?"

Bojan grows red in the face, embarrassment seeping through his features, though he doesn't know why. He doesn't have a girlfriend!

"I don't know," he pathetically says.

"Oh come on Bojan. You can tell us," Jan places an arm around his shoulders, and whispers. "Is she good���?"

Bojan pushes him away and laughs. "I seriously don't know who she is or how she got my number, guys.”

"It is from an unknown number..." Jure backs him up.

"Exactly!"

"Well, she's pretty and in Liverpool..." Jan mutters curtly.

"Jan, she could be a stalker!" Nace clamours and Kris nods quickly in agreement.

"Thank you! Finally, someone cares about my safety here." Bojan sighs and sits down on the nearest chair.

If this really was a stalker, is he safe enough to perform?

"Look I'm sure it's fine. See she's replied to you now!"

"Replied? But I haven't replied to her—?" Bojan begins before he realises exactly what Jan has done. Jan has messaged his stalker.

Everyone seems to have the same collective realisation too, as they exclaim "Jan!" disappointedly.

"Whaaaat??!!" he acts as if he's innocent.

"What did you text her?!" they ask while Bojan grabs his phone back reading aloud the text Jan sent her from Bojan's number.

Wrong number, sweetheart.

But I'm not complaining. x

"Fuck you, man," is all Bojan says, though he begins to laugh about it. It seems like such a charismatic thing he would have said anyway. Still, it doesn't make the situation any easier.

[virtualtrashcollector]

🌼 Kisses & Brownies

Joker x Female (Dark Knight Joker) 18+ only

Summary: As a young kinky British woman working as a mechanic in Gotham for the Joker, one night you see him looking rough after a fight. You decide to invite him into your office to patch him up.

Warnings: 18+ VERY EXPLICIT. This story features lots of dirty words and situations! Reader discretion is STRONGLY advised. No minors please. Enjoy!!

Word count: 7,198

Note #1: I will post each chapter separately as some are quite long. 6 chapters in total.

Note #2: This story takes place between 'Joker Comes for a Sleepover' and 'Meeting the Joker'.

Note #3: My OC has several body mods, including a split tongue, a pierced septum, and pierced naughty bits.

Chapter 1:

It was a cold and windy Thursday night in downtown Gotham as the three of you worked away in the garage. Richie and Michael were in the machine shop while you toiled away in your office. It was a smallish room tucked in the upper left hand corner of the shop. Thinking you heard your name, you approached the door and pushed it open slightly. Standing quietly in the doorway you listened in. A grin slowly spread across your face as you overheard the two men talking to one another.

"Daisy's way hotter than that other chick was." Michael said while tightening the bolts on a large tire.

"I'm not arguin' that with you, just saying she had a bigger rack that's all." Richie exclaimed as he rifled through a large metal toolbox.

"That she did, those tits were huge." Michael responded as he finished the tire he was working on.

"Haven't you two talked enough about tits for one day?" You inquired stepping out into the shop. Both men stopped what they were doing and turned to look at you. Richie smiled and replied,

"Don't think so. Maybe you would care to join in, ya know? Maybe a little show and tell?" His Italian accent was very strong and you had always found it very sexy. He had dark brown hair, brown eyes, and an incredibly sweet smile. Both men were wearing dirty shop coveralls and were stained head to toe with grease. You wore the same coveralls as they did, along with your regular steel toed beige colored workboots. The shop smelled like sweat, gasoline, and balls.

"I'm good thanks, maybe later. That is if you two get all of your repairs done." You teased making your way over to the counter for the blueprint you needed. Snatching it up, you started back to your office as they resumed their work.

"Now that's what I call incentive." Michael exclaimed while rolling another tire over to his station. You made eye contact with the buff heavily tattooed man, and held it for a moment. Damn he looked good tonight. You just might have a little fun with these two later.

"And someone please turn on the fan, it smells like sweat and ballsack in here." You said while waving your hand in front of your nose. As you approached your office the backdoor next to you opened, and in stepped J.

He seemed to notice you at the same time you noticed him. The other two men seen as well but quickly looked away once he glanced in their direction. He looked roughed up, almost as though he had just been in a nasty fight. His long green hair was a mess and his suit was dirtier than usual. Approaching him you inquired quietly,

"Everything alright sir?" He was slightly out of breath and was gripping a small black knife in his right hand. He was also hunched over a little more than usual.

"It is now." He replied closing the knife and putting it back inside his coat pocket.

"Just had to deal with a couple of...... disturbances." As he said this he stepped closer allowing you to get a proper look at him. Inspecting his jacket it didn't take long before you noticed the red stain underneath.

"You're bleeding." You said lifting the fabric to see a sizable crimson spot. J looked down.

"We'll...... what do ya know." He licked his lips and continued.

"Thought maybe one of those assholes got me, but I wasn't sure." You found yourself feeling genuine concern for your new boss. The thought of him being hurt very much made you want to care for him.

"I've got a first aid kit in my office, I'll get you fixed up good as new." You said gesturing towards the door. He grinned and quickly headed inside.

Luckily Richie and Michael hadn't noticed J slip into your office. Inside the steel room was a desk, a mini fridge, a coffeemaker, a few filing cabinets, and a couple of chairs. A large mural was stamped onto the metal wall behind your desk, and a ceiling fan spun perpetually above. There was also a metal shuttered window that opened up right into the shop, should you choose to have it open. You had placed a few plants around the room to make the place feel a little nicer. It was relatively dimly lit. The only lights were a floor lamp, a table lamp, and a candle.

"Didn't know you had an office." He remarked clicking his tongue. You shut the heavy door and locked it behind you. Approaching your desk, you removed your laptop and set it off to the side on the concrete floor.

"Have a seat." You encouraged him while gently patting the desk.

"Yes ma'am." He said hopping up on the dusty surface. Grabbing the nearby first aid kit you opened it up on the desk beside him. His legs were parted slightly allowing you to easily slip between them. His feet dangled freely in the air. J slid his tongue over his lip as you moved in close. You were now virtually eye to eye with one another.

"I like this....." He said reaching out and touching your large steel septum ring.

"Thank you sir." You responded softly with a grin. Carefully you removed his heavy purple suit coats. He watched closely as you peeled off layer after soiled layer. Now down to his dirty dress shirt, you untied his tie, slid off his suspenders, and unbuttoned his shirt.

The faint sound of an air compressor leaked through the thin walls of the otherwise quiet room. J was now shirtless allowing you to instantly spot the wound he had obtained earlier. Right at the base of his ribs on his left side, there was a painful looking gash most likely caused by the tip of a blade. Reaching for the gauze and disinfectant, you dabbed a little on the material and poised to press it onto his skin.

"This is going to hurt love." You warned him softly while placing your free hand on his thigh. He nodded his head slightly and took in a breath. Making contact with his soft tan flesh he barely even flinched. Thankfully the laceration didn't look deep enough to require stitches. After sufficiently cleaning the area you put on a fresh bandage, making sure to secure it good and tight. It took a few minutes to clean up some other minor cuts and scrapes on him as well.

"There we are." You said packing up the first aid supplies.

"Thanks doll." J said with a crooked smile. With the supplies away, you used your fingers to lightly touch a blackish bruise on his muscular bicep. There were at least a half a dozen more bruises you could see scattered about his arms and torso. He also had a number of scars in an assortment of sizes and shapes. Standing close to him, you could feel the heat coming off of his body. His dark eyes seemed to observe you hungrily. He smelled like sweat and dried blood.

He seemed to notice your left hand for the first time. You had lost your middle finger a few years ago.

"Never noticed this before." He said gently gripping your hand and observing your wound. He looked sympathetically at you with a questioning expression.

"Nothing too strange, I simply flipped the bird to the wrong person. Before I knew it my finger was on the floor. Learned my lesson that day." You answered him. He felt the nub where your middle finger should have been.

"Damn. This makes my injuries seem..........trivial." He exclaimed with a soft chuckle.

"Not trivial. Just not so severe." You told him with a small grin.

"Unfortunately I can't really do anything for these." You said tracing his various bruises with your fingertips.

"But there is one thing I can think of that might make you feel a little better....." As you said this you trailed off purposely. Your lips were nearly touching his as you felt his hands slip around your waist, pulling you closer still.

[thesandsofelsweyr]

For the guessing game: blood, pet, and/or collar

(from Fanfiction WIP Guessing Game)

These three are excerpts from early drafts of fics in My Arkhamverse series 🙃

Pet:

The room is filled with sunlight. He’s still lying on a cold, hard floor. But it isn’t the filthy floorboards of his cell. There’s a pillow under his head and a blanket draped across him. As the fog of unconsciousness lifts, his mind starts to clear as he takes in his surroundings. He’s lying in front of a toilet. Remembers trying to eat some food, real food—how much it had hurt to chew with broken and missing teeth—and immediately puking then passing out. That’s when the fever took him. He doesn’t know how long he was out of it. Tries to sit up too fast. Head is spinning, throbbing, and he winces as a piercing ringing noise fills his ears, drowning out all other sounds. His hand immediately slides into his hair, over the scar where the bullet grazed his skull. He applies pressure, breathing shallow until the ringing and pain both subside. Terrible memories flood over him. He fights the instinct to crawl in a corner and hide, breathing deep, reminding himself that his tormentor is thousands of miles away, that he has finally escaped. But as always, thinking of escape brings back Joker’s terrifying warning of the consequences he’d face, the mutilation he’d suffer. Panic starts to creep in again, illogical panic fueled by the months he spent as a prisoner. Joker had beaten it into his head—physically and mentally, literally and metaphorically—that he was an object, not a human being. That Jason was his pet: his puppy, his “little bird”...

⚠️ cw: smut, mild dubcon (⚤)

Collar:

Aww, that’s adorable, little bird. You think she actually cares about you.  It’s not the Clown speaking. It’s his voice. It’s him.  A part of him. The part that crawled out of the pit, not the one who fell in. He sounds so much like the psycho who tortured him for over a year of his life. Who taught him everything there is to know about pain. Who taught him how to hate.  She’s using you. Oh God but it feels so fucking good.  Taking what she wants from you. She’ll leave you all alone. Broken. And you’ll just let her do it because you’re too weak to say no.  It was always easier to submit, to obey.  Look at her. She’s beautiful. And what are you? Just a miserable failure covered in scars. She knows it too. She knows you’ll follow her around like the pitiful little puppy you are.  The dog he trained me to be. He even gave me my own leather collar!  The memory makes him burn with rage. He digs his short, ragged fingernails into her flesh. Look at how little she is. How easy it would be to overpower her.  You could make her do whatever you want. She’ll be helpless to stop you. You remember what that feels like.  No one’s going to want me… Hurt her like she’ll hurt you—you know this will never last. Take what you want before she abandons you. Just like everyone else. 

Blood:

“Are you okay?” That voice again. Softer. Concerned.  The Clown is there, doubled over in a fit of raucous laughter. “Leave me alone!” He shouts, voice dripping with anger, hatred, pain. At the Clown. At her.  “Please, let me help you…” “GO AWAY!” He roars He still can’t breathe. Can’t catch his breath. Vise is still firmly locked around his skull. The invisible hand is still cranking it, tighter and tighter.  He runs a trembling hand through his wet hair, feeling for the scar, the bullet hole, feeling for but not finding fresh blood. He’s desperate to escape this misery.  The agony is weighing his body down so much he can’t even crawl. He’s dragging his body across the floor, pulling himself with his hand. Where? Somewhere, anywhere, to escape the pain.  “Oh, little bird, this is too much! Even I couldn’t couldn’t come up with comedy as good as this!” “Someone actually wanted you and you’re screaming at her to leave!” “A beautiful broad pops your cherry, and here you are, curled up on the floor, boo-hoo-ing like she hit you with my crowbar.”  “Comedy GOLD I tell ya!”

[prettyyoungandbored]

Becoming Mrs. Wayne [The Dark Knight] Thirteen

Pairing: Christian Bale!Bruce Wayne x OC

Summary: Demetria Gallagher knew her cozy life would change the second she became engaged to Bruce Wayne. But what she doesn’t know is she’s getting more than what she agreed to. (I am trash at summaries.)

Warnings: Panic attack symptoms. Angst. Everyone’s fucked up. Well, almost everyone.

Taglist: dragonballluver, disgraceful-marvel-trash, barikawho, claudiahxrdy , @christianbalefanatic, @librarianafterdark​,  @rosegxoxo​, @lilizia​, @t0uch-starved-h0e​, @barikawho​

Author’s Note: I apologize for the long wait. 

Previous

Never in a million years did Demetria ever think she would wind up in this situation.

She stared at the suitcase, rubbing her chest and silently begging her body to give her a break tonight. She cursed herself for not locking Bruce out of his own room and instead choosing one of the guest rooms. 

A million different scenarios played in her head. All contained the same concerns, Bruce, her mom and brother’s safety, and her own safety. 

He should’ve ran after her and promised her everything was ok even though she knew it wouldn’t be. But he didn’t. He left her and her overwhelmed state to fend for themselves. 

“Care for some company?” 

Demetria turned her head to see Rachel poking her head in, a sympathetic smile on her face. She nodded her head as the brunette closed the door behind her. 

“What’s on your mind?” she asked.

Demetria snorted. “That’s a loaded question.”

“I’ve got all night.” She eyed the suitcase. “I don’t know your timeline though.” 

“A moment of weakness. No matter how many times I try, I can’t seem to go through with it.” She glanced up at Rachel. “You’re the sane one in this situation. What should I do?” 

Rachel cracked a tiny smile. “What do you want to do?” 

“I want him to realize he’s not doing anyone any favors by revealing himself, but you and I both know he’s not going to listen either one of us.” 

“He’s stubborn that way.” 

Demetria eyed her engagement ring, twisting it. “Makes me question a lot of things.” 

“Such as?” 

Tears began to pool in Demetria’s eyes as she realized what it was she was about to say. It was the question that plagued her mind throughout their relationship and into their engagement, but had continuously pushed back as far as she could. 

“Why ask me to marry him?” she finally said. 

Rachel folded her arms across her chest. “There’s something you need to know. Long before you came, Bruce wanted him and I to be together.”

Demetria couldn’t move. A calm confession had managed to knock the absolute shit out of her.

“I told him I couldn’t because of Batman, but that when the city no longer needed him that maybe we could,” Rachel continued. 

Demetria blinked and somewhere in the silence that fell between the two women, realized it was her turn to say something and that Rachel had been waiting on baited breath for some sort of reaction. 

So, she started with a deep breath. “Wow, ok. This…explains a lot.” She glanced up. “I’m not mad. Not that I would have any right to be. I just…I’m processing a lot of information right now and I...” 

Maybe this why Bruce went after her. She was Harvey’s best friend and he must’ve assumed something romantic was going on. Maybe that was why he went to lengths to keep their relationship quiet. Maybe he wanted to show-

“Its been over since he met you,” Rachel said. “After that lunch, he asked me about you. I told him you were off limits. I said that if he messed with you, Harvey would ruin him. That’s how he figured out you were at Harvey’s fundraiser. He came for you.” 

She ran her hand through her hair. “How do I not know he wasn’t with me to try to-.” 

“I told him I was in love with Harvey and that nothing was gonna change my mind and that if that was a problem, he needed to deal with it alone without hurting you.” She paused, smiling a bit. “Then he said he was outside your apartment, making sure you were ok. I realized he took time out of his Batman patrol to check in on you. He also said that if I ever hurt you he’d let me kill him myself.” 

A tiny smile played out on Demetria’s lips. “Time to make good on your promise then,” she said, motioning to the door. 

“He loves you so much that losing you scares him an when he’s scared, he pushes away,” Rachel assured. “He knows you can do better. But I know you’re exactly what he needs.” 

Demetria opened her mouth when Rachel cut her off again. “If he goes through with it, I will take care of you and your family’s protection. I know a lot of people who owe me favors. Just promise me you won’t leave him. You’re his one hope for a normal life.” 

Demetria shut her eyes, letting the tears fall. “Ok.” 

Rachel put a gentle hand on Demetria’s forearm. “Go to him, ok?” 

She went to leave when Demetria said, “Rachel?”

The brunette turned to see Demetria smiling at her. “Thank you.” She wrapped her arms around her. “If Harvey hurts you, just know I’ll murder him.” 

Rachel laughed. “I’ll hold to you it.” 

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

After wiping her tears, Demetria made her way to their bedroom where Bruce stood, looking out the window. 

The sound of the door closing behind her grabbed his attention. He turned to her, their eyes meeting for a moment before she made her way to her nightstand. 

Her throat started locking in when she grabbed her medicine and opened the cap. She popped the pill in her mouth and made her way to the bathroom, filling up a crystal glass with water from the sink and then taking a large sip. 

Setting the glass back down, she closed the bathroom door and went back to her nightstand where she pulled out her notebook and a pen. 

“Ok, I need you to tell me what areas need to be cleared out in this apartment so Alfred and I can take care of it,” she said. 

Bruce just stared at her. Demetria exhaled softly. “Babe, we have so many goddamn rooms and only so little time so please, for once tonight, help me out here.” 

“What’re you doing?” he asked. 

“What does it look like I’m doing?” She looked down at the notebook. “Ok, so guest room four is clear. I know that after-.” 

Bruce then took the notebook and pen from her, throwing it off to the side. He gently grabbed her forearms. “I need you to leave in the morning.” 

“Bruce-.” 

“I don’t want you here while this goes down.” 

She tilted her head, glaring at him. “So now I’m being considered?” 

His face softened. “What?”

“Why didn’t you consider me in this decision?”

“I told you I did.”

“Don’t lie to me. Why didn’t you consider me in this decision?”

“Demetria…”

“You considered what you were gonna do with me. What you didn’t consider is how this would impact me.”

“Rachel knows people who are gonna protect you.”

“Lawyers can protect in a court. What about outside of that?”

She took another step. “What about my mom and my brother? You don’t think people are gonna come after them?”

The silence was deafening.

“There are a lot of people who want to kill you for what you’ve done,” she went on. “A handful of those people think that killing you won’t be enough and that’s when they’ll come after everyone associated with you.”

“You don’t think I didn’t think about that?” Bruce retorted. “You don’t think that haunts me?” 

“I don’t because you won’t talk to me!” she told him. “You just keep pushing me away.”

She wiped the tears away. “You want to make this easy on me? Tell me you don’t love me. Say it and I’ll go. I’ll leave and when I’m asked why, I’ll tell them you said it.” 

Bruce’s blank expression made her wonder if he was contemplating. She pulled her lips back, nodding her head. “Go ahead. Say it. Say it.”

Bruce took a step forward to her. She didn’t move. “Say it, Bruce.” 

He held her face in his hands as she closed her eyes, mentally preparing herself to lose him, her whole heart. The world, the future she had romanticized because of him, ready to leave in flash. 

“I love you, Demetria.” 

[mistahjs-jester]

Joker x Oc (Part 4)

      "How does that make you feel, Sage?" My lanky therapist asks seriously. I take in a deep breath and try to be as honest as I can. "It… It makes me distressed, Dr Crane. I just.. I love him so much but I don't. They aren't my emotions. He seems to know when I'm present and when I'm not and it's eerie. I… I just try to BE ME. It's like another force is changing me." He starts writing some things down on paper and looks up at me pensive before noting. "You clearly have symptoms of a distressing disorder. I am diagnosing you with Dissociative Identity Disorder." 

      I blanch and then blank out. The dead silence causes the man in front of me to adjust his glasses and continue waiting for a reaction. He got one soon after as he watched my behavior shift. The blackness took over and I felt very strange, feeling as if I'm watching everything from the backseat of a car. I speak with a voice that isn't mine. "Ah, so you've finally figured it out. Ah, that's good. I was waiting for someone to rather than J. It makes for more fun. Now we really go over why she's in here in the first place, Jonathon."

     Jonathon wipes off his glasses with no expression on his face and states silently. "So it was never her. It was always you." Laughter erupts from my lips without my control and the voice interrupting me says giddily. "Isn't it exciting?! Another personality to liven things up, hm?" 

     His body language showed he was rather uncomfortable but intrigued by the one speaking to him. 

      "I believe you haven't introduced yourself to me properly yet. You know my name but what is yours? If you're willing to share, that is?" The answer that comes from my lips surprises me. "Rose. Not short for Roseanne or any of that nonsense but just plain Rose and I'll have you know I go by nothing else so don't try me doctor." 

      He raises his brows and tries not to smile. "Rose it is then. Nice to meet you." Rose replies. "Likewise doctor." And with that I completely zone out, unaware of the conversation happening further until the session ends and I come to in confusion. 

     Jonathon notices my disoriented state and asks if I'm ok. I respond lowly. "I have a headache and I don't really remember a lot. I'm sorry Dr Crane." He answers politely. "Quite all right Sage but I'm afraid our time is up. Until we meet again." I nod and get up shakily, going towards the door where the guards lead me back to my cell. What an odd session.

[cherrycocaineee]

38. Joker - A Love Story For The Books

* Warning: powers/abilities, murder, torture, kind of follows the storyline of Harley Quinn. *

* Synopsis: Even with your telekinetic powers, you’ve always wanted to remain normal to the world and what better way to be normal than to become a psychiatrist like your older sister, Harleen Quinzel. What you didn’t expect was to ever sit in on one of her sessions with the Joker, and neither did Harleen who had done everything in her power to keep you and him away from each other for your own safety. With your new found infatuation with the criminal clown and his amusing interest in you, what could possibly go wrong? Or right, in your opinion. *

Harleen’s dull gray heels drummed against the cold concrete that the two of you were currently walking on. The sound of her heels were accompanied by her flipping through pages on her clipboard. It had been almost thirty minutes since your older sister had spoken a single word to you but you could hear the slow huffs of her breathing as she grumbled in frustration. Harleen wasn’t angry with you, no, in fact she was more worried about you than anything; instead, she was pissed off at her boss who assigned you to her side today knowing that she was working with the Joker. Even though Harleen was seething with frustration, worry, and anger, you were ecstatic. You were tired of the same old same old everyday and you swore if you had to listen to another person talk about something that lacked any real interest again, you might actually blow your own head up. Of course you understood that not every crazy case was going to be off the walls in terms of interest but because of Harleen’s persistent worry for you in this field of work, she’d made it her life’s mission to keep you with all the snooze fest patients.

You were so lost in your rambling thoughts you hadn’t noticed Harleen had stopped until you smacked right into her. A yelp left your dusty rose lips as you quickly drew your hand up to your nose that was now throbbing in pain.

“A warning next time would be great,” you grumbled.

“Sorry,” she replied shortly, “Now listen up, okay. Whatever he says in there, you can’t listen to him. He’s going to make up some sad story about his childhood, it’s fake so don’t fall for it.”

Your eyebrow arched up quizzically, “Then why do you let him tell you something if you know it’s false?”

“Because you learn more from the patients who lie.”

Harleen didn’t say another word before placing her keycard against the lock. There was a quiet chime before the red light switched to a green light, then the sound of metal scraping against metal abused your ears as the lock came undone. The noise was so loud, you almost flinched. When the noise subsided, Harleen pulled the door open and walked inside, leaving the door open so that you could go inside too.

On the inside of this cell it was like any other cell here; there was a single bed sitting in the corner of the room with a thin mattress that didn’t even have a sheet on it; a small, paper thin blanket for them to cover up with laid folded at the end of it as if it had never been used before; in the opposite corner was a desk attached to the wall with a singular, shitty chair for sitting at. Other than those things, the room was pretty bare but most of them were. Occasionally there would be a few patients who had wall art hanging up from their family members or from themselves but it was rare.

As Harleen made her way to the rickety chair in the corner to sit down at, you finished closing the door, waiting for the lock to click. Through the window there were two guards standing at their post which was protocol when a psychiatrist entered a room with any of the patients; they were all criminally insane and at any point in time they could do something to cause harm.

There wasn’t another chair for you to sit in, so you ended up standing beside Harleen. Your eyes had been so busy everywhere else you’d failed to see the Joker sitting at the edge of his bed completely swaddled in a straight jacket. His icy blue eyes pierced right through you causing you to swallow hard on the build up of saliva collecting in your mouth. Harleen’s pen clicking was what helped you to switch your gaze away from him but you could still feel him looking at you.

“Dr. Quinzel,” the Joker purred, “I’ve been looking forward to seeing you. And I see you’ve brought a lovely guest. What’s your name, doll?”

You didn’t get a chance to answer because your sister did for you.

“You’ll address her by Dr. Quinzel too, Joker,” Harleen stated promptly, not even looking up from her clipboard.

“Two Dr. Quinzels!” He hollered delightfully, “Aren’t I the lucky one?”

When Harleen didn’t reply to his outburst, you gave him a small smile.

“I’m her younger sister,” you added, “Y/N.”

“Y/N Quinzel,” he mulled over, a grin plastered on his painted lips, “I like the sound of that.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his compliment, at least that’s what you thought it was.

“That’s enough,” Harleen said, “it’s time to get started.”

You couldn’t blame Harleen for trying to stick to her questions, she had always wanted to be a psychiatrist and she took her work incredibly serious. You pulled out the copy of questions your sister gave you and readied yourself to follow along with the conversation. You didn’t need to write anything down, that was Harleen’s job, all you needed to do was listen in and learn. It was a practice run so that eventually you could start talking to patients by yourself.

“Now, Joker,” Harleen started, “why don’t we start where we left off.”

“Right,” he chuckled, “where did we leave off, Dr. Quinzel?”

Turns out they left off talking about the Joker’s father. Like Harleen had told you, the story was sad and in your opinion, it was overly sad. And he kept changing things, making it almost impossible for you to keep up with the conversation. What you did notice was the way his eyes watched you. You weren’t sure if you should say anything, your sister’s head buried in her papers where she couldn’t see anything. Maybe that was her way of keeping things professional, she didn’t stare at her patients too long or at all. The Joker didn’t seem to mind her not paying attention to him, his gaze was fixed on you and he had no intention of looking anywhere else for the entire session. It was weird to you because even though his eyes should have been making you squirm where you were standing, it wasn’t; in fact, they felt nice. There was no other way to describe it because it was nothing you’d experienced before. It was almost predatory like but there was a hint of possessiveness. Now there was no way you were paying attention to the actual reason you were here and judging by the smirk on his ruby stained lips, he knew it too.

Before you knew it, the session was over and Harleen was thanking the Joker for his time; something she did with all her patients. She was also the first to leave the room, leaving you behind which worked out perfectly for you. You stole another glance back at the Joker, his eyes still resting on you. You swallowed hard, turning on your heel to leave, the door closing behind you. It was odd, once the door closed and locked you found yourself missing his presence. Sighing heavily, you shook your head and ran after Harleen, grateful that you had worn converse instead of heels like she did.

For the next couple of weeks you joined Harleen in her sessions with the Joker; after about the fifth session, you’d been upgraded to a chair which worked for your aching feet. Harleen was gathering her belongings when the Joker decided to press his luck in having an actual conversation with you.

“How are you liking your chair?” He questioned, “I’ve noticed you swaying on the balls of your heels for the last couple of sessions. Couldn’t see you in any pain any longer so I asked one of the guards to bring you your own chair.”

You hadn’t noticed before but you had even started massaging your ankles trying to remove some of the swollenness, even now you were doing it even though you’d been sitting. Though sitting in this chair for a mere hour didn’t compare to the rest of the day when you were on your feet.

“Oh,” you said, meeting his eyes and pulling your hand away from your ankle, “thank you, that was very kind. It actually feels nice to get off of my feet for even just an hour.”

“That’s so good to hear.”

“Y/N.”

Harleen’s voice sliced through your conversation like a freshly sharpened knife causing you to flinch.

“It’s time to go.”

She was holding her notes against her chest, staring at you knowingly.

“Right!” You said, hopping out of your seat, “right. Let’s get moving then.”

Before you and Harleen had left the room, the head doctor, Dr. Louis, poked his head in. There were two guards accompanying him for his own protection; a lot of these psychotic criminals would enjoy getting their hands on him so he needed to be watched over constantly.

“Ah, I thought I’d find the two of you here. I just wanted to let you guys know that from now on Y/N will be taking the Joker as her patient. Harleen, you’ll be seeing after our newest patient.”

“What?” Harleen and I said at the same time.

It wasn’t in the same tone: Harleen’s was more disbelieving while yours was more exciting. You had started working here a year ago but had never been allowed to take on patients by yourself. You always accompanied another doctor with their patient which is why you were so damn bored with it. Unless you were a high level doctor like Harleen or Dr. Louis, you didn’t get to see the incredibly dangerous criminal patients that they harbored here at Arkham. It astonished you that Dr. Louis was trusting you with the most dangerous patient here. Of course it might have something to do with your telekinesis, you could easily apprehend the Joker with your mind if you wanted to.

“We have a new patient coming in, she’ll need a lot of your attention, Harleen. I’m sure with Y/N’s skills, she’ll be able to handle this clown with ease.”

You stole a glance at the Joker who was now laying back on his bed with an amused look on his face, unbothered by Dr. Louis’ choice of words.

“You hear me, Joker,” Dr. Louis added, “your new doctor will now be Y/N Quinzel, so get use to seeing her face.”

He grinned wickedly, “I look forward to a fresh, new, beautiful face.”

Dr. Louis left the cell with Harleen running after him in protest, leaving you alone with the Joker for the first time. You turned to the table where Harleen had thrown her things down at the sudden news. All of the papers were scattered now, some even littering the floor, making you huff.

“My,” the Joker chuckled, “she’s trying so hard to keep you away from me.”

“Don’t pay her any mind,” you said, kneeling down to pick up her discarded papers, “she’s just protective of her little sister, is all.”

He didn’t say anything and the silence between the two of you was peaceful. You finished gathering all of Harleen’s papers before standing up and turning to him.

“Guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” you state.

“Guess so,” he sang, still grinning from ear to ear.

For the first time since you’ve been sitting in on these sessions, you smiled back. The way you went about things was completely different from your sisters: whereas she was cold and distant, you felt that it made things easier to be friendly towards the patients, it helped them trust you just a bit more. Without another word, you gave a slight wave and left the room, listening as the doors locked behind you.

The next day you were over the moon since it was your first day being alone with the patient. The night before you stayed up planning every question you could possibly think to ask. You had to ignore Harleen’s countless calls because you knew she was only calling to warn you once again about the Joker’s routine antics. It felt like she didn’t think you could do this but it was ridiculous because you knew you were more prepared than anyone could be.

Pulling an all nighter was probably the worst thing you could have done, on top of the two large coffees that you had plus a third. All of that caffeine was making your heart beat fast but you ignored it, not wanting to be sent home or to the ER on your first day. Like usual, you entered the Joker’s cell, this time alone, and saw the shadow of two guards outside the door. The Joker was sitting in his bed in an upright position as if he had been waiting for you for hours, though you knew that wasn’t true.

“Good morning, Dr. Quinzel,” he greeted.

“Good morning, Joker,” you returned, “and please, just call me Y/N. I’m not really into formalities.”

“Then it’s only fair that you call me Mister J,” he smiled, “it’s what all my friends call me.”

You smiled. “Then let’s get started, Mister J.”

Your first therapy session with the Joker went as well as you expected, of course you didn’t think anything he said was the truth but it amazed you that he could come up with so many different ways to lie about his family life. You didn’t mind the lies, it kind of felt like a new story being read to you everyday which is what you wanted in the beginning.

As you were writing down what the Joker said, you noticed the Joker squirming around his spot.

“Everything okay?” You asked, folding your writing hand over your clipboard.

“Sitting like this for so long makes you kind of stiff,” he grumbled.

His discomfort seemed genuine and you hated it when people were uncomfortable.

“Is your…your jacket too tight?” You asked.

“A bit. But nothing I can’t handle, doll. Now where were we?”

You took a deep breath, thinking of probably the stupidest thing you’ve ever thought of. Only the guards had the keys to the most dangerous criminals white jackets but with your telekinesis you could easily undo it and give him a bit of freedom.

“I could help you.”

He brought his icy blue eyes up to meet your gaze.

“And how could you do that?” He questioned curiously.

“I could remove your jacket. Just until our session is over, then it’ll have to go back on.”

He didn’t seem to understand, everyone knew doctors didn’t carry keys to undo the jackets as well as they didn’t care if the patient was uncomfortable. The question for him was how were you planning to remove the jacket without a key and why would you do something like that?

“How?”

The Joker watched your eyes flutter shut before he realized that his white jacket was starting to undo itself. There was the soft clinking of the locks before they clattered to the floor, the fabric started to untangle itself too, giving the Joker some room to even just wiggle around. That left another question in his head: were you doing this with your mind?

Soon the entire jacket had been removed from his body leaving him shirtless; the jacket was now neatly folded and sitting beside him on his bed. For the first time in months, the Joker was able to move his arms. Standing to his feet, the Joker stretched his arms and popped his back. By then, you had opened your eyes again and were watching his every single move. Not because you didn’t trust him but because it fascinated you to see even someone like the Joker finding satisfaction in being able to stretch his arms out. You honestly didn’t think anything bothered him but clearly you were wrong.

“Feeling better?” You quizzed, pulling yourself up from your chair.

It had been awhile since you had used your telekinesis so it made you dizzy to stand up so fast. You swayed a bit on your feet before tumbling forward, only to be caught by the Joker with his newly free hands. It was the least he could do since you took his chains off.

“I feel fantastic, doll,” he hummed, grinning from ear to ear, “how are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling fine,” you muttered, steadying yourself on your feet, “I haven’t done that in awhile.”

“And what exactly was that that you did?”

“I used my telekinesis to remove your jacket. And later, I’ll use it again to put the jacket back on you.”

Finally you were able to stand on your own so you released the Joker’s broad arms, smiling a thank you to him.

“We have twenty-five minutes left until our session is over, so you have that long to get in as much exercise as you need. We can talk while you do so, it won’t bother me.”

So that’s what the Joker did. As the two of you spoke about his falsified childhood while he did whatever exercise he needed to do. When those twenty-five minutes were up, you quickly put on his jacket before the guards came to escort you out like they did at the end of every session.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Mister J.”

“See you tomorrow, Y/N.”

And that’s how it went for the next couple of months. You would sit with the Joker and discuss a new family situation, never really getting anywhere new, while he was able to freely roam around in his cell while working out his arms from all the knots that were in them. What you weren’t expecting was to fall in love with him. He was kind, sweet, and always asked how your day was going like he actually cared. You didn’t know if he truly did or not but the interest in his voice was much needed, especially lately.

“Oh, kitten,” the Joker purred, getting closer to you, “you seem in a foul mood today. Is everything okay?”

You tore your eyes away from your papers, there weren’t many questions today and it seemed like the questions list was dwindling more and more everyday.

“Uhm,” you cleared your throat, “I’m fine. There’s just a lot going on at home.”

Despite how hard you had been working, you never seemed to meet your parents’ expectations and their expectations were high considering they wanted you to be exactly like Harleen. And more frequently you’d been going over there with Harleen to have family dinners and somehow you never seemed to get the same praise you felt you deserved. Instead, your parents were always finding ways to critique your work, never seeming to understand that you had earned your patient’s trust rather than ignoring their basic needs as human beings. They had said on countless occasions that they wished you were more like your older sister, and you’d be lying if you didn’t say it hurt your self esteem a bit.

“No need to worry yourself about my home troubles, Mister J. Tell me-”

“Ah, ah,” he said, his fingers gripping your chin so you couldn’t look away, “I’m more interested in what you have to say. You can tell me.”

For some reason it really felt like you could tell him. So all of a sudden you found yourself crying out your complaints to the Joker as he consoled you; it was like he was the therapist and you were the criminal in need of some real mental help. And the way he soothed you made you fall in love with him more and more. He patted your back while you wiped away a few tears; you were grateful that you skipped wearing any makeup today even if you looked like you hadn’t slept in weeks. The Joker had his hooks in you and he knew it. By the next session, you’d be ready to give him anything he asked for and he knew just what he needed to make his escape.

The next session, you felt better than before and you had a little more pep in your step too. You were clenching your notepad in your arms as you sped off towards the Joker’s cell. You couldn’t help the feeling in your chest that made you excited to see him and honestly you hoped that he felt the same way. Today you brought him a present, something to brighten up his little area and hopefully make him smile some more. Once again you heard the slow, loud clicking of the metal locks before you pushed the door open. As routine, the door closed behind you and the guards stood outside ready for whatever. However, the inside of the room was just a bit different. There was a table now in the center of the room with two chairs sitting on either side of it. It was a new accessory that was a bit different then what you were use to. The Joker was already sitting patiently at one end of the table, a grin plastered over his painted lips.

“Dr. Quinzel,” he said, “my favorite part of the day.”

“We’ve been over this, Mister J,” you laughed, “just call me Y/N.”

That made his smile wider.

You took your seat across from him, your notepad finding its permanent spot in front of you on the table.

“I got you something,” you said happily.

“What have you got?” He purred.

“Got you a kitty.” You pulled out the stuffed cat and started playing with its little paws.

“So thoughtful.”

As usual, you used your telekinesis to undo his jacket giving him free range to move around. However, he didn’t get up and move around like usual, instead, he sat in front of you just eyeing your every move. You felt nervous under his gaze, a light blush sketching into your cheeks as you tried to look away. You finally built up the confidence to make eye contact with the Joker.

This therapy session wasn’t going anywhere near how they normally went. He was much more flirtatious than usual and you found yourself watching him with eyes filled with admiration, care, and love. You were so lost in his eyes and words that you didn’t realize how close the two of you had gotten, your face merely inches away from his own. You don’t know how it happened but you had fallen in love with him, and despite your brain telling you how stupid it was to be in love with him, your heart yearned for him. There was nothing you wouldn’t do for him and he knew it.

“Should we get started?” You asked, trying to put some space between the two of you.

“Actually Doctor,” the Joker hummed, “there’s something you can do for me.”

“Anything,” you said a bit too excitedly before correcting your tone, “I mean, yeah, of course.”

He shifted. “I need a machine gun.”

The request caught you off guard and your head was screaming at you to stop listening to him like your sister had told you to.

“A machine gun?”

A big, toothy grin stretched from ear to ear.

You knew you shouldn’t do it. That you should warn the guards about his plans. But the way he stared at you, you felt intoxicated and ignored every rational sense you had.

You just weren’t expecting what came next.

You had used your telekinesis to sneak the Joker a machine gun late in the evening, as well as distorting the cameras so you didn’t get caught. You figured he just needed the machine gun to escape, go back to his busy life causing chaos in Gotham. But he had other plans before he went back to his normal shenanigans.

Before you knew it, gunshots were flying through the halls of Arkham as people dressed in animal costumes. Guards were falling down as more and more bullets pierced their skin; you ran, trying to find some coverage while you repeatedly asked yourself what you had done. This wasn’t what you wanted, not even in the slightest. You tried to sneak away, but in the end you were snatched up by some guy in a suit and another guy in a costume. You screamed, thrashing yourself around trying to loosen their grip but they were too strong for you physically. You don’t know why it didn’t come to you, your mind running so fast that you completely overlooked your telekinesis.

The two men strapped you down to what you think was a gurney.

“Get off me!” You snapped through gritted teeth, trying with all your might to push them off.

But in the end, they got the best of you and were able to strap you down. It was only then did you remember your telekinesis, however, the Joker made an appearance distracting you entirely.

“What do we have here?” He grinned, waving his hands around.

He positioned the light above the gurney in front of your face causing you to squint momentarily.

“I did everything you said,” you rasped, “I helped you.”

The Joker just watched you for a second before laughing quietly, anger prominent in his voice as he spoke.

“You helped me by erasing my mind? What few…faded memories…I had left!”

With each word, he slammed his fist against the cushioned gurney. You’d have flinched if you hadn’t loved him so much. You watched him run a hand through his messy green hair.

“Oh. You left me in a black hole of rage and confusion. Is that the medicine you practice, Dr. Quinzel?” He snapped his purple glove.

You shook your head.

“What are you gonna do? You gonna kill me, Mister J?” You asked.

He reached beside you, taking hold of the equipment that some doctors used to erase patients memories of traumatic events in their life. You swallowed a lump in your throat.

“Oh, I’m not gonna kill ya,” he grinned, rotating the shock sticks beside your head, “I’m just gonna hurt ya. Really…really…bad.”

All of a sudden, the small amount of fear you felt in your body was gone. You no longer felt anything but a want to prove that you could handle what he dished out.

“You think so?” You asked, your body no longer shaking, “Well, I can take it.”

The Joker snapped his belt off and folded it in half making a snapping sound as he tightened it. Then he placed the leather material into your mouth making a barrier between your teeth.

“I wouldn’t want you to break those perfect, porcelain cap teeth when the juice hits your brain.”

Then all of a sudden you felt the electroshock surge through your head and you tensed up, your back arching off the gurney. Your telekinesis had a mind of its own while you were incapacitated; the leather straps holding you snapped themselves in half, a table was thrown against the wall, and the lights shattered. It all excited the Joker more and more, making him understandably curious about you but knowing that this was the end of the line for both of you. He’d always have you sketched into his brain and he knew he had left a permanent mark in yours. He just failed to realize that you wouldn’t give up on him just because he caused you a lot of pain.

You practically made it your mission to seek him out; you quit your job much to your families surprise, and you spent every waking day mumbling to yourself as you searched for the Joker. He wasn’t a hard man to track down and when you did manage to find him, he always seemed to need something that involved your telekinesis. You didn’t mind but you had hoped that all of your help would make him consider taking you in and making you his. But it never seemed to work out that way and you were finally getting frustrated, even desperate for him to acknowledge your love for him.

One night you were waiting on the side of the road outside his club, hoping he’d come out and see you. However, you were left disappointed again when you saw him in his purple Lamborghini, driving to God knows where not even sparing you a second glance. You had half a mind to flip it over, show him you aren’t someone to ignore but you didn’t want to hurt him, instead you stole someone’s motorcycle, using your powers to shatter the chain that was used to keep it from being stolen. The owner didn’t know he’d have to protect his bike from thieves with telekinetic powers. And who could blame him as these abilities weren’t common, even in Gotham.

You followed the Joker on the bike, speeding up so that you could catch up to him. Finally you were able to pull up beside him, looking his way in hopes he’d notice you. He did, of course, but his reaction wasn’t one that thrilled you. He pulled his hand up beside him as if trying to block you from his line of sight. Hurt and anger surged through your veins as you let out an irritated yell. You sped up, taking the lead in front of him. Little parts inside you could feel his annoyance creeping across your skin but you didn’t care. Once you were a good distance away, making sure by looking back, you turned the motorcycle on its side and let it scrap against the midnight black paint. Sparks flew and you were positive that the paint on the side was done for. When the bike came to a stop, you hoped off of the part you had been standing on and planted yourself firmly in front of it, any fear in your bones having been erased that day in Arkham.

To anyone looking at it, it looked like the Joker had no intention of stopping but instead had every intention of running you down in the road. However, with an annoyed grunt and a roll of his eyes, he came to a quick, jerky stop.

“You…”

“You’re not leaving me. You’re not leaving me!” You yelled, slamming your palms into the metal of his vehicle.

“You…you really are a pain in the ass.”

Just as the Joker exited his vehicle, an eighteen wheeler pulled up behind him.

“I have done everything you said. Every test, every trial, every initiation. I have proved I love you. Just accept it.” You pleaded, tears pricking the corner of your shining eyes.

He lifted his hands, “Got it, got it, got it, got it. I am not someone who is loved.”

He clapped his hands in front of your face.

“I’m an idea. A state of mind.”

The eighteen wheeler started honking while the Joker spoke. But it didn’t deter him.

“I execute my will according to my plan and you, doctor, are not part of my plan.”

He had done a complete circle around you and was now standing back in front of you, so you pulled your hands up to touch his face. His skin felt nice against your own, almost like they were made for each other and you wondered why he didn’t see that.

Once again, the eighteen wheeler honked this time more frequently.

“Let me in,” you pleaded, “just let me in. I promise I won’t hurt you!”

He had pulled himself away from you, laughing at your words just as the trucker exited the drivers seat of the eighteen wheeler.

“A promise, promise…ha…ha…ha…”

“Hey dickface!” The trucker yelled, “Mind screaming at your bitch somewhere else.”

The Joker continued to laugh, completely ignoring the trucker. Your mind moved on its own and soon the Joker’s personalized gun was removed from his leather jacket. It floated through the air before your mind pulled the trigger, shooting the asshole who was interrupting your conversation. His body fell to the ground with a thud.

“I was gonna say,” the Joker said, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

He had stolen a quick glance at the dead trucker before returning his gaze to you, this time the floating gun pointed directly at him. The cool metal barely grazed his deathly pale flesh. He rested his forehead against the barrel of the gun and raised his hands up playfully, grinning.

“Don’t hurt me,” he joked, “I’ll be your friend.”

You held your gaze, never tearing your eyes away from the gun letting it continue to float as your mind willed it to do. The Joker hummed, his voice deepening as his smile and joking behavior disappeared.

“Do it. Do it, do it, do it, do it, do it.”

“My heart scares you,” you gritted, “but a gun doesn’t?”

“Do it!”

But you couldn’t and he knew you couldn’t. So within a mere second, he snatched his gun out of the air and your mind stopped buzzing. A headache growing from the overuse of your ability. You were mentally exhausted and the Joker could only laugh, pushing his own gun against the side of his head.

“God, if you weren’t so crazy, I’d think you were insane.”

He was glaring at you now, his expression dark and uncalculating. A few tears slipped off of your face and dropped onto the ground as you stared at the man you told yourself you loved. Even now.

“Go. Away.” He said.

He left you standing there, getting back in his Lamborghini and driving off. You choked back a few sobs, using the back of your hand to wipe away your tears before walking in the opposite direction he had driven off in. What you didn’t see was the Joker watching you through his rear view mirror. Even though he kept trying to deny it, you were interesting and the more interesting he thought you were, the more captivated he felt by your presence. He knew you loved him but he wasn’t sure how he felt about you. He took his eyes off of you for a split second and when he tried to look at you again, you were gone. It was almost like you had never been there, at least that’s what he would have thought had the dead trucker not been laying in the road still.

Grumbling to himself and slamming his hands against the steering wheel, the Joker pulled a sharp u-turn, the tires screeching against the cement road. Hitting the gas pedal as hard as he could, the Joker sped off to find you, wondering why he couldn’t keep you out of his own thoughts.

He found you not too far away from where the two of you had conversed. You had your arms wrapped around your body as you walked, sulking harder with each step. Quickly, almost harshly, the Joker yanked his car in front of you causing you to stop walking. Your eyes widened as he climbed out of the driver's seat and made his way to the passenger’s seat. Quirking an eyebrow upwards, you watched as he opened the door and looked at you.

“Well,” he muttered when you didn’t move, “get in.”

It was a small gesture, even after your conversation with him just a second ago, but you still smiled hard and hopped into the passenger’s side. He closed the door behind you, got back in his own seat, and sped off, not telling you where the two of you were headed.

You weren’t expecting to be taken to a chemical plant. The words “Ace Chemicals'” faded into the building walls telling you this place had been out of use for some time. It smelled too and you had to hold your breath until you could stomach whatever that stench was.

The Joker watched you intently as your eyes wandered taking in everything it passed. He was fascinated by how curious your little head could be but he wasn’t going to tell you that.

Finally the two of you reached a room that was layered with nine vats of chemicals at the bottom. The Joker and you were standing on top of the black, metal that held you above the acid. The metal was slick with water from whatever but really it was as safe as could be. You followed the Joker to the edge before peering down at the vats of chemicals that covered the floor. They were bubbly and made weird hissing noises making you wonder if they were incredibly hot.

“Question,” the Joker started causing you to look away from the chemicals and up at him, “would you die for me?”

“Yes.”

You didn’t even hesitate with your answer.

“That’s too easy,” he muttered, “would you…would you live for me?”

The question meant something so different than his first. Life was cruel and there were so many things to hate about life, dying was easy because there was no suffering. So in a sense, he was asking you if you’d suffer for him. Which you would.

“Hmm?”

“Yes.”

“Careful,” he whispered, “do not say this oath thoughtlessly.”

He brought his tattooed hand up to your face, his fingers grazing your cheeks causing you to shiver. His touch had you so intoxicated that it felt like you were drunk from a whole day's worth of drinking.

“Desire becomes surrender, surrender becomes…power.”

His fingers traced over your face, slowly sliding down the sides of your cheeks barely gripping your chin until he rested his finger against your lips. His eyes flickered hungrily at your mouth and you desperately wanted to close the gap between the two of you.

“You want this?”

Again, you didn’t hesitate. “I do.”

He tilted his head back, keeping his hand on you.

“Say it,” he rasped, “say it. Say it. Pretty, pretty, pretty…”

His voice got softer until it faded and you felt your heart throb with both love and lust.

“Please,” you whimpered.

“God,” he chirped, “you’re so…good.”

He gestured to the edge of where you two were standing. You walked over to it and peered down at the vats of chemicals again. Your logic was screaming at you to change your mind but you couldn’t afford to listen to it. You were almost there, he was almost yours entirely. All you had to do was fall into the chemical and he’d have you. You turned to face the Joker, his eyes watching you intently. You extended your arms before falling backwards letting gravity carry you. The cool air felt nice against your skin as you plummeted; your eyes fluttered close as you thought about all of the things that you were about to experience. While most people would be terrified if they were in this current situation, you found peace with it.

The Joker peered over the edge and watched your body splash into the dangerous liquid. He had finally done it. He’d gotten rid of you. He turned on his heel and headed towards the exit. However he wasn’t able to make it past a few steps as he remembered all of the kind things you had done for him throughout his time of knowing you. Using your telekinesis, you had given him a small amount of freedom from the straight jacket he’d been chained up in for months. You didn’t snap at him or say anything to him out of anger like most the doctors did, you seemed to actually care for him. Even after he tricked you into giving him the machine gun and using the electroshock therapy on you, you still wanted him. And for some reason that filled the Joker with a sense of guilt that he didn’t even think he could feel. With a low growl, the Joker removed his leather jacket hurriedly and went back to the ledge where he jumped in after you.

He reached forward and took hold of your sinking body, pulling you tightly against his body. You fit perfectly against his muscular frame. The two of you floated back to the top, the Joker’s lips on yours filling your lungs with life. You let out a soft gasp as he pulled away, your eyes staring into his as you searched for a trick but you couldn’t find one. He leaned down again, your fingers finding their way to the back of his head, and the two of you kissed.

After only seconds, the Joker pulled away, keeping you wrapped in his arms, and started laughing. The color from your clothes mixing with his. You smiled, pulling yourself closer to him. He was yours, and you were his. Forever.

[teejaywyatt1]

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

[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

Words: 1462

---

Arthur first sees you on a quiet evening, sitting alone on a bench outside his apartment building. You look up and catch his gaze, giving him a small, understanding smile, one that melts through the ache he constantly carries in his chest. Unsure of what to do, he freezes, hesitant but drawn to you, this stranger who seems to know him.

You look over with gentle eyes, as if you see past the makeup and the mask he wears every day, past all the jagged pieces he tries so hard to keep hidden. “Are you all right?” you ask, voice soft and warm, cutting through the silence of the evening.

Arthur’s breath catches in his throat. No one ever asks him that—no one cares. “Y-yeah,” he stammers, trying to match your kindness. “I just… I live here.”

You smile at his shyness. “Then I guess we’re neighbors.”

For the first time in a long while, he finds himself laughing softly, genuinely. There’s something about you that feels comforting, like a gentle warmth on a cold night. You introduce yourself, and he stumbles over his own name, feeling foolishly nervous.

After that first meeting, you’re always there, somehow appearing when Arthur feels his lowest. You sit together on that same bench every few days, and he talks to you in ways he’s never felt able to talk to anyone else. You listen without judgment, nodding and offering small words of encouragement, and your gaze never wavers, even when he confesses his fears, his failures, and the burdens that feel so heavy.

One night, he tells you about his job as a clown, his laughter trailing off with embarrassment. “People… they don’t really see me, you know?” he says quietly, almost ashamed to say it out loud. “I’m just… invisible to them. And sometimes I think… maybe I deserve it.”

You reach out, placing a gentle hand on his, and his breath catches at the warmth of your touch. “I see you, Arthur,” you say softly, looking at him as if he’s the most important person in the world. “You’re more than you know. You’re kind. You have so much inside you that’s… that’s beautiful.”

Arthur feels tears prickle at his eyes. No one has ever spoken to him like this. No one has ever seen him this way, as someone worth knowing, worth caring for. And in this moment, he believes you.

Over time, he falls for you in the quietest, purest way. Every time he sees you, his heart races, his hands growing sweaty with nervous excitement. You laugh together, share quiet stories, and he begins to feel that maybe—just maybe—he’s worth more than he thought. He even starts to sleep a little easier, with your soft words echoing in his mind, soothing him as he drifts off.

One evening, he musters up the courage to ask, “Would you… would you go to Pogo’s with me sometime? They have comedy shows every weekend. I-I could get us tickets.” His voice trembles, both hopeful and fearful of your answer.

You smile, nodding gently. “I’d love to, Arthur.”

The night of the show, Arthur arrives early and waits eagerly at the door. He straightens his clothes, smoothing down his collar as he anxiously glances around. He waits, watches for you, his heart thudding with anticipation. But the minutes tick by, and there’s no sign of you. His mind reels, doubts flooding in, and he begins to wonder if he’s just made it all up.

But when he returns home that night, exhausted and heavy-hearted, you’re there, sitting on his sofa, waiting for him. Arthur feels a mixture of relief and confusion, unable to understand why he hadn’t seen you at Pogo’s. But you simply reach out, taking his hands in yours, and look at him with that same sweet, unwavering gaze.

“I’m here, Arthur,” you say, your voice gentle, comforting. “I’ll always be here for you.”

Arthur nods, breathing a sigh of relief. He doesn’t know why he doubted you, why he thought he might lose you. He clings to your hand, feeling a warmth he’s never known, a love that fills the emptiness inside him.

As the days pass, Arthur begins to notice strange things, moments when people stare at him as he talks to you, as if you’re not there. But he brushes it off, too afraid to question, too afraid to let go of the one good thing in his life. In his heart, you’re real—the only real thing he has.

Because even if the rest of the world refuses to see him, you do. And that, to Arthur, is all that matters.

---

After weeks of blissful companionship, Arthur had grown used to the comfort you brought him. Every day, you seemed to be there, waiting for him when he came home, listening to his stories, sharing your thoughts, and filling his life with a sense of warmth he’d never known.

But one day, he came home to silence. The apartment felt hollow, colder somehow, as if the warmth had drained from it entirely. He searched every room, calling out for you, but no soft voice answered, and no gentle presence greeted him. At first, he told himself you’d just stepped out, maybe to run an errand. He tried to wait patiently, sitting on his couch, eyes flicking anxiously toward the door.

Hours passed, and you didn’t return.

The next day, you were still gone. Arthur’s worry grew, consuming him, gnawing at his mind. You’d never left him alone like this, not for so long. The thought of you out there, somewhere in the city, all alone and unreachable, terrified him. He had to find you—he couldn’t stand another moment in this empty silence, haunted by the absence of your voice, your smile.

With his heart pounding in his chest, Arthur went to the address you’d once mentioned to him, the place you’d said was your apartment. The building wasn’t far, a modest complex tucked away on a quiet street. He walked up the stairs, each step echoing in the empty hallway as he approached the door you had described to him.

He knocked softly, then louder, pressing his ear against the door, waiting to hear your footsteps on the other side.

Nothing.

Arthur hesitated, then turned to a nearby neighbor who was unlocking his own door.

“Excuse me,” he stammered, feeling his pulse race. “Do you know if anyone lives here? She… she was supposed to be here.”

The neighbor gave him a strange look, eyebrows furrowing. “This apartment’s been empty for months,” he replied. “No one’s lived here since last year.”

Arthur felt his heart sink, a deep, crushing weight pressing down on him. "No," he mumbled, shaking his head as if the words could somehow be wrong, as if reality itself had made a mistake. He stumbled back from the door, his breath growing shallow, his mind spinning.

He staggered out of the building, barely seeing where he was going as he walked, his mind unraveling with each step. Memories of you flashed through his head—your laughter, your voice, your touch. Every moment you’d shared, every word you’d spoken to him, it all replayed in his mind, each memory more painful than the last.

But a horrible, gnawing realization took root deep inside him, clawing at his heart. You weren’t real. You’d never been real. Everything—the laughter, the kindness, the love he felt—had all been in his head. A cruel illusion, a hallucination born from his own loneliness and desperation.

He stumbled back to his apartment, feeling the weight of the emptiness, the silence pressing down on him harder than ever before. The room felt darker now, more desolate, every shadow a reminder of the void you’d left behind. The very spot where you had once sat now seemed hollow, mocking him with its emptiness.

Sinking to the floor, Arthur clutched his head in his hands, trying to push away the agony that twisted inside him. He had let himself believe in you, had let himself hope, and now he was left with nothing. The crushing loneliness that he had thought you’d filled now consumed him entirely, overwhelming him as he sat alone in the dark.

In that moment, Arthur realized just how deeply he had fallen for you, how much he had wanted you to be real. And though he knew you were gone—had never truly been there at all—he couldn’t stop himself from missing you, from longing for the warmth, the love, and the solace you’d brought him, even if it had only ever been a dream.

And so, he sat alone, haunted by the memory of someone who had never truly existed, trapped in the agony of a love that had been only an illusion.

---

[gotham25052]

Dark Waters

Part 1

Part 1 summary: Anna moved to Gotham to disappear, but an encounter with the Joker takes away her anonymity and throws her life into disarray.

Notes: I'll be posting new chapters each week. I've had so much fun writing, hoping that maybe a few others out there will enjoy reading!

TW: Some violence, heavy themes including contemplation of death, major invasion of personal space

She immediately dropped the tray upon hearing the gunshot - it reverberated in the large ballroom, which had excellent acoustics. She was on the far side of the room, away from the activity, yet she had a good view of the group as they walked in.

Her heart seemed to stop, seeing the man in the lead. It wasn't hard to tell who he was, with the white face paint, black eyes, and jarring red lips. It was the Joker, the face she had seen in the newspapers and televised clips, striking fear into the heart of Gotham with his antics and erratic crime spree.

This was a world that was far removed from her everyday routine of work and survival. The gray hues of her sparse apartment in lower Gotham, the days and nights spent carrying dishes, washing, cooking - the debt she owed weighing her down and keeping her on the edges of life in the city. The physical toll of working constantly in a fast-paced kitchen gave her a kind of alertness that wasn't based on rest but instead on pure adrenaline and necessity, giving her the ability to perform well but also an unrelenting fatigue that plagued her.

She wondered why of all days, today she had been assigned to serving the guests instead of working the line in the kitchen. Since Bruce Wayne, the host of the event, was known as quite a ladies man, she had wondered if perhaps the catering manager wanted more women to be serving at this high-class event. Her simple ponytail and sparse makeup helped her dissolve into the background, but her striking, somewhat unsettling blue eyes may have influenced the manager's decision to add her to the service staff.

But in this moment, she forgot everything. Watching this man was utterly terrifying and also strangely captivating. She couldn't take her eyes off him. It was as if a streak of violent color was splashed onto her horizon. She hadn't noticed his bizarrely red lips in the grainy security footage that ran in news clips, but now when he was on full display, he seemed like a lightning bolt in red traveling across the white ballroom floor. She wasn't alone - the stunned crowd were all seemingly mesmerized by his shocking appearance and the turn the evening had taken. But as he drew near to each group, they looked away, afraid to make eye contact with this man and his goons. She watched until she could no longer see what was happening from her vantage point. The crowd seemed excited and she heard murmurs of 'Batman' - had he shown up to fight the Joker?

She could hear a shot and breaking glass, and then a deadly silence fell around her. The crowd seemed to be pressed down by renewed fear. Was the Joker still here? Was Batman gone? Her mind was reeling in confusion, her thoughts slowed by panic.

Despite herself, she couldn't help looking over to see what was happening. The tall figure in the purple jacket soon reappeared, his goons surrounding him, taunting the crowd. He had appeared frustrated before, but now he looked perfectly composed and at ease. He strode through the ballroom where most people now cowered to the floor, but others seemed stunned and unable to move from their original positions. He was almost to the elevator when he stopped abruptly and turned his head - toward her. Was this possible? Somehow he caught her gaze from far away, and now he was looking straight at her. It was as if he had somehow felt her eyes and seen her thoughts. And now he was turning to walk to her precise location. She thought she must be in some kind of nightmare - it didn't make sense, why would he be striding toward her instead of leaving the building? The police would be on their way.

And still, she couldn't break eye contact. She was like the prey frozen in front of the predator - somehow she was fascinated seeing her inevitable demise walking toward her.

She was nobody, why was he focusing on her?

His strides were unrelenting, breaking the space between them into smaller pieces until he stook right in front of her, far too quickly. He loomed large above her petite frame, looking so much taller up-close. She had the odd sensation that he was a protective figure, simply because her head was level with his shoulders - as if he were an older brother or a father. But looking up at him, she was shocked out of her temporary illusion. It was clear he was the Joker, the gaudy paint brighter and messier the closer he came. Her eyes met his again and for a moment she was lost - flecks of green and brown seemed to be dancing there, shifting all the time, like a fire was kindling in the darkness. She quickly snapped out of her trance and backed up to the wall to make a feeble attempt at escaping, her fear causing her to collapse to the floor when she could no longer move backward. She was like a prisoner on execution day, losing her ability to stand and walk to the gallows. She could hear others around her backing away, relieved that they weren't the ones singled out.

He simply came in closer, pulled her back to a standing position with one hand, and pressed his body up to hers, easily pinning her to the wall. One thing was certain, no one was going to make a daring attempt to rescue her. She was a non-VIP, a young woman in a cheap catering uniform - she would be a low priority for Batman and the police, even if they did manage to arrive. Her mind was still teetering on the horror of upcoming death and utter confusion as to why he had come to her. As someone who blended into the background, perhaps her one strength was her invisibility, and that was lost now. Time seemed to stop for her. She could feel the buttons on his vest, the rough texture of his jacket. She could smell him, feel him breathing calmly. As someone who lived a solitary life in the city, she was overwhelmed by this strange sudden intimacy, her senses overloaded. She tried to comprehend the fact that she likely only had moments left to live.

He wordlessly took his knife from his pocket and had it shining beside her lips in the next moment. But he turned away, his attention taken by his henchmen signaling that the police were closing in on the building. In that split second, something changed for her. She didn't want to be carved up in front of a crowd, and if he was going to kill her, she preferred for him to just do it and be done. She accepted her fate, and a strange calm enveloped her. She held up her free hand and gently guided his with the knife to her throat, away from her face. Something in the misery of her life, her deep fatigue, and her strange fascination with this wild animal in front of her led her to accept the end. He felt her body relax and turned back toward her, tilting his head slightly as if he was watching some unusual natural phenomenon.

She was surprised that he allowed her to move his hand downward until it rested on her neck. He seemed almost curious to see what would happen. He still hadn't said a word to her, nor her to him, but he looked into her eyes again and she felt that he could see the bleakness of her past and her struggle to survive in Gotham - as if he knew every thought. But somehow he could see this and yet no warmth, no empathy clouded his eyes. She could still see the uninterrupted flames there in his gaze. He seemed to take it all in with one unfeeling blink. A slight smile flickered on the edges of his bubbled cheeks.

He broke the silence. "Did you know, we are the only ones here?" Before she could think of any way to respond or even process his strange statement, he had loosened his grip slightly and with one hand, pulled a vial out of his pocket. He reached backwards to grab a napkin from a nearby table and soaked it with the vial's contents. It smelled terrible, like alcohol and gasoline mixed. Her terror came back with a rush as she realized this had something to do with her. She had prepared herself for death; she wasn't prepared for the unknown that could happen now. She squirmed between his body and the wall, but he easily resecured her so she could barely move. He placed the soaking cloth up to carefully cover her mouth and nose. Despite his men rushing around him, preparing to escape, he looked into her eyes, observing the fear behind them like a scientist watching an experiment, his expression blank. She was afraid of what would happen if she breathed, afraid of losing control.

She kept her gaze fixed on his eyes, still fascinated despite the lack of comfort there.

"Just breath," he said with some exasperation, exhaling forcefully on the word "breath." On his command her body gave up and finally took a desperate breath, and she immediately felt herself fading away. Her eyes went black even though she knew that they were still open, and as she lost consciousness, she felt the side of his face brush roughly against hers and heard him begin to whisper something in her ear.

"You…" But now she was gone, sliding into pure nothingness, her body collapsing to the floor as he took a calculated step back.

"Pour it out, let's go, let's go" the Joker called out loudly, his voice echoing off of the ballroom ceiling. A second wave of his men had entered the room, carrying what looked like gas cans, roughly painted in purple. They strode around the room, splashing the gasoline everywhere, adding an extra sheen to the shining marble floors. The scene was one of chaos as many partygoers struggled to find exits while others stood motionless, caught up in the unexpected shock of the events they saw unfolding around them.

"I'll take this one," the Joker said, loudly and gleefully, as he threw the unconscious woman roughly over his shoulder, her feet held in front and her head and arms swinging on his back as he took large strides toward the elevators. His companions had secured a way out for him in a stolen car that their allies in the police force would ignore. He paused for a brief moment and lunged out with his free hand to pull a sparkling ruby necklace off of a woman's neck as he passed by. "And may I have this, please?" he said with feigned politeness. She winced in pain from having the necklace snapped off her neck and cowered down to the floor, stunned. He swiftly pocketed it and picked up his shotgun.

"I bid you adieu," he said mockingly to those still watching the chaotic scene as he stepped onto the elevator. One of his companions lit a match and threw it onto the gasoline-slick floor.

His goons rushed around him to escape the building into their surrounding cars, while the Joker walked further on into a nearby alley. He unburdened himself of his human cargo and dropped her to the ground. He turned around, glancing at the building, now ablaze. He adjusted the position of her head slightly and quickly slipped the necklace into her uniform pocket. 'Take care' he said with a joyless grin as he ran to the car that had paused to pick him up nearby. The driver, one of his long-time companions, assumed the woman was probably dead, but his boss talking to unresponsive bodies was nothing new. He heard the boss humming as they peeled away and skidded through the streets of Gotham, to the part of the city where the Joker reigned supreme and no one would dare to interfere with him. The boundaries of that 'safe' zone for criminal activity were constantly expanding.

***

She woke up in a sea of black, not knowing where she was or what had happened. The first thing she could make out was the blurry orange glow above her. She blinked and slowly came back to herself. The glow came into focus and she heard the cracking flames - one of the upper floors of the building in front of her was burning vibrantly. Firefighters and police were running frantically on the road in front of the alley she found herself tucked away in. She was out of sight but perfectly positioned to watch the flames. Her body felt numb, like her arms and legs had yet to wake up, and she didn't want to enter the chaos of the bystanders and officials around the building's perimeter. She lay there motionless, the flames flickering on the sparkling surface of her eyes. She remembered the stories she had listened to as a child, about Sodom and Gomorrah.

"Then the Lord rained down burning sulfur on Sodom and Gomorrah —from the Lord out of the heavens…" She had shivered in fear as a child, thinking of the flaming rocks hurtling down to burn an entire city. In contrast, now the flickering flames seemed to spread warmth from her eyes to the rest of her body, as she slowly came back into consciousness. There was something almost beautiful about the way they hugged the stark edges of the building and licked the corners of the windows.

She jarred suddenly, realizing that the burning building in front of her was where she had been working, and everything came back to her. All the people in that room, had they escaped before this inferno? She felt like she couldn't breath as the details of the night returned - the group of men entering the room, the shots, the streak of red framed by white and black on his face - she remembered his face, so close to hers with its garish colors, the knife shining in front of her lips. Her strange decision to die quickly and his even more bizarre actions afterward. She remembered the horrible smell when he put the napkin to her face and the crushing pressure of his body.

She struggled to remember, had he put his face alongside hers, and whispered something in her ear, as her consciousness faded? Then it came to her, as if she was hearing it again, clearly enunciated and hissed into her ear, "You are the water, I am the ink." The strange words were somehow chilling, even though they made no sense to her, and she thought it was most likely that she had imagined it - maybe she had imagined everything? She instinctively put her hand up to the side of her face where she had felt his skin brush against hers. She brought her hand down, and in the intermittent light of the emergency vehicles and flashlight beams, she saw white and red makeup smears on her fingers. Her breath quickened in panic.

She forced her body to move and stood up unsteadily, her voice barely audible. "I think I need help. Something happened, please, can I talk to someone?" She pushed herself forward into the crowd of gathered onlookers and emergency personnel. She tried to direct her pleas to the officers she saw rushing by, pushing herself to say the words more audibly, "I think I need help." She was holding her hand with the makeup as if it was hurt - as if the colors had rendered it useless. An officer finally noticed her wondering confused in the crowd and seemed surprised when he saw her. He looked at her hand and touched her face. Pulling it back, he muttered, "It's just makeup." He motioned for an ambulance worker who was coming toward them to go back. "I don't know what you're up to, miss. Go home. We have lives to save here." He dismissed her pleading eyes and went back to directing the rescue operation and managing the crowds rushing up to watch the dancing flames.

She walked unsteadily to the train station, still holding her hand - she was far from her area of town, and she struggled to remember how to get home from here. Blue line, to L6, switch to the green line, 56th and Brooks. She mechanically switched trains and tapped her token on the gates, somewhat surprised she was able to complete the commute. She was relieved that it was early Sunday morning. This was the quietest time for Gotham's roads and transport. This was the one reprieve that went with her job - often she had to work through the early morning hours at late-night parties for Gotham's elite on Saturdays, but this quiet journey back to her apartment was a slight benefit that offset the exhaustion she felt every day after work. She made it up the stairs to her apartment and unlocked the door. She could often overhear fights and smell cigarette smoke in the hallways outside, but in the morning, it was sometimes calm like this. She just wanted to collapse into bed. The shadow of whatever drug she had inhaled hung in the back of her head, giving her a throbbing headache that was getting worse by the minute.

Her memories of the night seemed to be fading away, replaced by exhaustion and familiarity with her surroundings. The glimmers of luxury in the ballroom, the sudden ring of shots, that face… All seemed to be far away, in upper Gotham, where important people made important decisions. She wandered into the bathroom, thinking she should try to at least change her dirty clothes before climbing into bed. She stopped dead in front of the sink. In the mirror, she saw it, the white and black smear across the side of her face and a fat red streak from her cheek to her ear. She screamed and stumbled backward, her head striking the tile wall as she fell to the floor.

***

It was late in the day before she woke up. Despite the traumatic events she had been through, sleep had restored her somewhat. She realized that her work would begin in only a couple of hours, so she had to prepare to return to upper Gotham for another catered event. She decided to shower and eat something, replacing the rollercoaster of the night before with the regularity of her daily routine. It was a comforting thought, but also daunting. How would she work through the night cooking and washing dishes at the usual demanding pace with all that she had been through?

Luckily, she did have an alternate uniform to wear. She began to undress, but then felt that something was in her pocket. She didn't remember having anything in her pockets - what was this? She reached in, feeling the cold metal against her skin. She pulled out the ruby necklace, sparkling with a hundred shades of red, the gold links on the chain glittering in the fading sunlight from the window. It looked utterly foreign to this apartment, and in her hands - she had never held anything like it in her life. She had no memory of putting this necklace in her pocket, and noticed that the clasp on either end had been torn apart. She thought back through the events of the evening and her breath caught in her throat. Someone must have put it in her pocket, and it must have been the Joker's goons or the Joker himself. She sank down to the floor, disturbed and also finding herself in a new dilemma - should she take the necklace to the police? She saw how little they paid attention to her words the night before, and she worried that they would think she had stolen it herself. They might find it hard to believe she had innocently found it in her pocket. She would have to decide some other time - she needed to go to work now. She placed it awkwardly in a small bag in the closet, getting it out of sight to help clear her mind.

***

She couldn't return to normalcy. Every day she came back to her drab apartment with the faded carpet and wondered what to do with the broken necklace. She sometimes took it from the bag in her closet, turning the beautiful jewel so that it radiated like the sun, even in the cheap fluorescent lighting. Even though it reminded her of what had happened, seeing something so dazzling felt like a breath of fresh air in her suffocating life. She glanced at the pile of bills on the counter. She had to carefully calculate and juggle them, to pay some and leave others, so that she could keep the wheel turning and not lose her apartment.

Seeing the bills reminded her of the reason she was in this impossible situation. She remembered the court case with bitterness - the state had stepped in to help her dissolve her marriage and escape from the radical Christian sect her family had brought her up in, but in the end the legal costs all came back to her. She left her small town to seek solace in the anonymity of Gotham, but with nothing, and a pile of legal bills to settle. It was a miracle she had an apartment and a job at all. Even though she had read nearly every book in the small local library of her hometown, her closed upbringing left her with no formal education, not even a high school degree, making it nearly impossible to find work.

She sighed and collapsed onto the bed, thankful for at least the small comfort her home provided. She fell into a restless sleep.

***

Today was one of her easier days - she got to go in early and work at the catering company's restaurant instead of staffing a late night event. She purposely took the train and bus so that she could walk by the water on her commute. She loved to see the waves splashing onto the rock seawall, and it was one of the few things that gave her some comfort in her lonely world. When she had a rare chance, she would stop here day or night to watch the ceaseless movement of the waves. The night had a special charm, when the city lights glinted off the water and she was almost hypnotized imagining the unseeable depths of the dark waves. But today it was early evening, and she needed to move on to be at work on time. She caught the bus as usual. The still heat in the city seemed oppressive, making everyone sweat on the unairconditioned bus. She managed to crack a window that stubbornly allowed in a languid breeze from outside. She looked up at the power lines - they were covered with blackbirds. There were so many, they seemed to be weighing down the wire so that it might finally succumb and break under their weight. An ominous feeling crept over her, like the birds were some kind of evil omen…

"Benton street! Benton street!" the bus driver yelled, and she realized she was about to miss her stop. She pulled the wire hurriedly and the bus screeched to a halt. The driver grunted in frustration as she left, closing the door and speeding away the second she was on the street.

She trudged on to the restaurant, now visible and cheerful with its lights inviting guests in to dine. She entered through the back door in the alleyway. She stored her things in the locker and quickly tied on her apron.

"Hey Annie," she heard, and noticed the kitchen staff were all gathered around a small television screen perched high on the kitchen wall. "The Joker's taken over the channel 9 news." Everyone watched with rapt attention, as they could see the Joker's goons herding staff away from the anchor desk, leaving the chief anchor there alone. Someone was moving the camera closer to the desk to zoom in. And then there he was, the Joker, appearing from behind the camera and pulling a chair up to the side of the counter opposite the stunned reporter.

"Well hello there, Mike," he said, seating himself as if he was being welcomed onto the show for an interview. The anchor sat stunned and silent.

"I came here today because I have some concerns about lower Gotham," he began. "I think the city needs to leave well enough alone. The mayor and police chief in their cozy offices in upper Gotham, they don't know what's going on down here. They try to enforce their idea of order with extra patrols and I think it's just not good for ordinary citizens, like you," he said with emphasis, bringing his hand up to point at the camera lens and looking straight into it like a deranged politician.

His tone changed, lighter and casual now, turning back to the anchor.

"You know, Mike, I've been studying the city and learning so many interesting things lately. Gotham has a population of nearly 10 million people, and most of them live in lower Gotham. And did you know, he paused and turned again to face the camera, his voice hanging in the air icily, "Did you know, there are over 16 thousand people named Anna in Gotham city? Isn't that… crazy?"

She collapsed into a nearby chair, putting her head into her hands, as everyone in the room turned to look at her.

"That's weird, why would he say that?" someone commented. Everyone seemed to dismiss it, but she remained sitting for some time, the weight of his words crushing the little sense of normalcy she had tried to weave around herself since the events in the ballroom. What did this mean? Was he trying to threaten her? Why? Why would he even spend one moment targeting her? Her mind spun in confusion and a headache began to throb between her temples.

"Uh, Annie, we need some help in the kitchen," a voice shouted. She hastily got up and walked to the sink, helping with the washing, dishes piled high in front of her.

My original ink drop video, sorry about the auto-focus. :)

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