#joker x reader christmas carol
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thatgordongirl · 2 years ago
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My BBC Ghosts Fanfics  
Oneshot Collections -
Easter Oneshots 
Christmas Oneshots 
Spooktober Oneshots 
WIPs - 
Never Anything Quite So Special (3/4)- Fanny’s son returns to Button House as a ghost 
If I Lived There (2/8) - Pat and Julian survive and meet as living people
This Whole Time - Captain has a flask on him, cue boys night 
A Rainbow (6/8)- The ghosts as the colours of Kitty’s rainbow
Everybody Talks (1/4) - Captain starts to see Julian in a different light, leading to conflicting feelings
Patcap - 
You Matter To Me - Captain has an existential crisis, Pat tries to make him feel better 
Loverman (Oh Where Can You Be?) - Captain builds up the courage to tell Pat how he feels
1944-Lieutenant Butcher - Pat goes back in time to 1944, being assigned to the Captain
Paper Butterflies - Alison introduces the group to a therapy technique 
Capulian - 
Thank You For Being A Friend - Julian is gloomy on his death day, Captain sympathises 
Keep Me Safe - Julian helps Captain cope with PTSD
Couldn’t Escape If I Wanted To - Alison had another party, so Julian distracts Captain
You Are The Best Thing That’s Ever Been Mine - Captain and Julian have an emotional affair 
Things I Would (Could) Never Do - Captain meets an alive Julian Fawcett, he’s not impressed
I Get A Little Bit Genghis Khan - Julian and Cap get into an interesting routine
Indulgence - Captain & Julian and Captain & Pat
War Poetry - 
Alone Again - Captain comforts Thomas during a difficult time 
Our Little Secret - Thomas is more observant than the others know 
No Man Left Unconcealed - The ghosts decide to play hide and seek, Thomas and Captain end up stuck together
De-Cap-itation
The Perfect View - Humphrey and Cap meet up for the night guard
Multiple ships/No pairings/One off pairings - 
Hopelessly Devoted To You - Thomas/Isabelle, Humphrey/Sophie, Julian/Margot, Pat/Carol and Captain/Havers 
Captain x Multiple -
Ghostly Support - Pat/Captain, Thomas/Captain, Captain/Julian, Humphrey/Captain and Robin/Captain
Thomas-centric -
What Writing Can Do - Thomas reflects on the importance of his profession 
Reader Insert -
Families Aren’t Always Blood - Teen reader insert can see the ghosts
Pat/Carol -
Love Is Like - Pat/Carol
Theodore-centric -
When Soft Voices Die - Captain’s great nephew decides to learn more about his heritage
Multiple -
In Case You Don’t Last Forever - Daley & Pat, Pat/Captain, Captain/Havers, Julian/Robin, Isabelle/Thomas
It Was Funny - Captain & Fanny & Robin & Humphrey
Fanny & Stephen Button centric - 
She Used To Be Mine - Fanny teaches Alison how to dance 
Rachel & Margot Fawcett centric - 
We Go To The Stars - Rachel and Alison have a talk on the roof 
I’m Sorry For Your Loss - Margot and her relationship with death
In Nature Nothing Exists Alone - Rachel relates to plants more than people 
Informality Of Family - Cap’s great nephew Theodore and Rachel Fawcett meet
The Joker And The Queen - Theodore gets shot and Rachel goes to comfort him
Nobody Else (But You) - Some good Rachel and Theo bonding
Forget - Rachel and Daley have a midnight conversation
New Year’s Kisses - Pat/Captain, Pat/Julian, Julian/Margot and Daley & Rachel
Exceptions - Rachel doesn’t like most people
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thejokersenigma · 7 years ago
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Christmas Fan Fiction Advent Calendar 2017 - Day 17 - Joker x Reader - Christmas Carol Part 3
Ok, so it’s nearly midnight - sorry its taken so long to write this, but my laptop had a melt down and deleted all my editing, so I had to go back through and do it all again.
I apologise that the joker is a bit out of character - I’m blaming my lack of a break from writing (It feels like I’ve been writing non-stop for 17 days now!)
Hope you enjoy anyway!
MASTERLIST
J was surprised when he suddenly woke. He hadn’t realised he’d fallen asleep – hadn’t even realised he had been drifting off. He didn’t think he could have slept for more than a few minutes, but the clock told him it was close to one o’clock.
J hoped that the brief sleep might have helped to clear his mind somewhat from all of these hallucinations. It was true that he nearly always had voices screaming different things in his head, and yes, rarely he saw things that weren’t actually there, but - even more seldom – did he get these repeat illusions.
Maybe his last trip to Arkham and their aggressive ‘cures’ had pushed his brain that bit further into the realms of complete insanity.
One thing J was certain of was – if the Marlo hallucination was right and he was expecting two other illusions tonight -  he wasn’t going to be caught by surprise again by one of the phantoms his brain conjured up. So, he remained sat in his chair, ignoring the alcohol now, watching the office door, waiting for his next visitor. But nothing happened, and he couldn’t help feeling oddly more tense because of this.
J was just beginning to think maybe he should listen to one of the voices saying he ought to retire to his bed to catch up on some clearly much needed sleep, when the clock on the mantle chimed for the hour and, as the single faithful dong struck out, the office was filled with same brilliant light that had illuminated it previously. Only, this time, it didn’t come from the window behind him, instead this light seemed to be emitted from within the pent house, outlining the office door where it shone through the surrounding cracks.
J was forced to squint at the brightness, holding one hand up to shield his eyes. He wasn’t one to hesitate, or fear, and he had thrown caution to the wind a long time ago – so he rose to his feet and strode to the door, ready to confront whatever his mind had chosen to conjure this time.
The minute his hand touched the handle of the door, a familiar voice said his name, but it wasn’t Eddie this time. J knew exactly who it was, and he rolled his neck in annoyance. It was that pompous black-market dealer Oswald Cobblepot.
The Penguin called for him to enter as though the Joker had been polite enough to knock on his own door.
J scowled at the door, but pushed it open none the less - his curiosity getting the better of him. However, he paused almost immediately by the sight that greeted him beyond the door. What should have been the hallway of his penthouse, no longer was. Instead, he seemed to have somehow opened the door into the unused penthouse dining room. To check he hadn’t somehow managed to completely blank out the hallway, J glanced backwards, seeing his desk, chair and shelves of books. He turned his attention back in front of him, and, sure enough, there was still the neat, unused table and chairs by the floor to ceiling windows that made up the dining room.
The Joker hesitated, but only for a moment, before he stepped into the room. The door immediately closed behind him, even though he gave it no shove, and when J glanced back at it in surprise, the door seemed to melt into the wall until there was no trace of it. Maybe he was dreaming this time.
But that didn’t matter to him at the moment, and he turned his gaze back into the room, seeming to see it with fresh eyes now. It wasn’t just his unused dining room, it had been luxuriously decorated with Christmas decorations of holly, golden tinsel, wreaths of orange and cinnamon, and a large decorative runner that ran along the length of the table, embroidered with red, green silver. At the head of the table sat Oswald Cobblepot, as large and regal as ever.
The Penguin regarded the Joker down the end of his nose with distaste. “Ah, the clown has finally arrived - though we all knew punctuality has never been your strong point.” He sniffed.
“What do you want, Ossie?” Drawled the Joker, barely managing to supress a snarl.
“I am the Ghost of Christmas Present.” Said the Penguin, as if that explained everything. “Take a seat.” He said, gesturing with a flick of his meaty hands to rest of the table, but the Joker didn’t move. “Never mind then.” Dismissed the Penguin, uncaring. “The present can’t wait much longer.”
Penguin rose to his feet from his chair, which the Joker now realised was not a chair, but a pile of suitcases over flowing with cash and bags of coins and jewels.
This must be a dream.
The rotund man, made his way over to the Joker, but something seemed wrong about the man. J couldn’t place it until the man held his umbrella out. Penguin wasn’t limping. His path to him had been smooth and unencumbered by his twisted leg.
“Take hold of the umbrella.” The Penguin ordered.
The Joker had basically made it his life not to follow rules or instructions, but he had gone unwillingly with his last hallucination, and the experience that it had showed him seemed to have lightened his mind somehow - though clearly not removed his hallucinations – and was J’s intrigue was peaked with what this phantom would show him. He said no word, but lightly gripped the material, Penguin’s hand remaining on the top of the curved handle.
Just then, a cold, strong wind seemed to blow in through the windows which now appeared to hold no glass. The Joker tried to release his grip on the umbrella, but his hand seemed to be stuck fast, his fingers unable to uncurl and he was forced to keep a tight grip on the umbrella. The wind seemed to pick up more, blowing out the lights, despite the fact they were electric, and then seeming to blow out all the furniture and objects around them as well. Everything dissolved into a thick smoke that swirled around them, not choking, but obscuring everything until it faded to a light mist that settled around their feet where they stood on one of the many snowy streets in Gotham City.
J spun around, taking in the surroundings. The night didn’t seem to have changed much from the last time he’d been out here only an hour ago, except they were now stood on a street lined with tall office blocks or flats, and a cold drizzle of snow blurred J’s vision. The Penguin though, only had eyes on one thing, and the Joker followed his line of sight. It was a tall, rather grim looking block of flats that towered directly in front of them.
“What is this?” The Joker asked.
The Penguin turned to him, half obscured in the snow. “This is the present.” He said simply. Then a short gust of wind blinded them with a flurry of flakes, and, when it cleared, they found themselves in hallway lined with numbered doors that must have been flats. Joker looked at the door directly in front of them. It was dark grey with a chipped golden 23 screwed into the wood. As J was about to ask what the point in all of this was, the number 23 door swung open inwards. Except Penguin hadn’t touched it, and there was no one on the other side of the door. Instead, J had a clear view into the apartment within. It was furnished with minimal, basic furniture that had probably come with the place and it lacked any personalisation from the owner in any way except for a few plastic bags and takeout containers on the table by the sofa.
Penguin stepped in and the Joker automatically followed.
They walked past the small living room area and a small dining table, reaching the doorway of the kitchen. Here they found a young woman - probably in her late 20s - desperately trying to stop a pot, of what looked like potatoes, from boiling over.
The Penguin said nothing to explain why they were there, nor did the Joker ask, both of them just watching the scene before them as the woman – having just rescued the potatoes by lifting them off the hob – threw the saucepan back down again when the oven timer went off, grabbing instead for a pair of oven gloves on the counter near her.
The woman dove into the oven and removed a rather dry looking chicken which she quickly shoved onto a spare bit of work surface, shaking her hands where her oven mitts had thinned. Just then, the potatoes began to hiss and spit as they boiled over again as she had thrown them back onto the hob without thinking.
The woman quickly rescued her potatoes once more, moving them to safety by shoving a few dirty utensils out of the way on the sideboard. Happy that everything was safe once more, the woman lent against one of the counters, exhausted and wafting her face with her hand at the heat that had built up in the kitchen.
Before she had much time to relax, a young girl, about 6, appeared in the doorway next to the Joker, holding a worn and battered teddy. “Mummy!” She cried, “When’s Uncle Johnny coming back with Jimmy?” She whined, not noticing her mother’s flustered state.
“He should hopefully be back any minute, honey - God knows mummy needs his help.” She muttered as an aside.
The girl grinned at this positive answer and skipped straight past the two criminals watching the scene without seeing them, and into the living room area to obsessively watch the door, listening intently for footsteps.
The little girl didn’t have to wait too long, as within 5 minutes there was the sound of heavy feet on the hallway outside and then a key in the lock. The young girl jumped excitedly to her feet and raced to the door bouncing up and down with uncontrollable energy.
When the door opened, the Joker let out a breathy growl. Frost.
He had a young boy - who looked to be a similar age to the little girl - sat on his shoulders, gripping either side of his face.
“Frosty!” Screamed the little girl and ran at him, still clutching her teddy. Frosty knelt down and scooped up the girl as she hurtled towards him, lifting her easily.
“Hiya lottie, did ya miss us?” He asked with a grin, placing the girl on his hip. The man in front of J now looked nothing like how he knew him. Instead of his usual suit, tie and emotionless face, Frost as wearing jeans, a Christmas jumper and a grin as he looked down at the little girl.
“No. Not at all.” The little girl lied, but she couldn’t keep it up for long when she saw the look on her Uncle’s face - which was a dramatic look of devastation at this claim – and she soon burst into a fit of girlish giggles.
“You lied to me?” Frost asked in dramatic disbelief. The girl nodded through her giggles. “Can you believe that Jimmy? The porkies your sister tells!” Frost cried, lifting his head slightly to the boy perched above him.
Jimmy laughed at Frost’s clearly fake outrage. “Come on, let’s find your chair, and mummy.” Frost said, carrying both of the children into the flat and finally closing the door. The ‘chair’ in question had been pushed out of the way behind the sofa and Frost wheeled it out now, going to deposit Jimmy into it, but the young boy protested violently, wishing to stay on his Uncle’s shoulders instead.
“Ok, but make sure you duck when I go through a door, ok?” Frost said, “Or at least tap my head to make sure I remember to duck.” He teased, and the young boy eagerly nodded. They head for the kitchen then, Lottie skipping on behind them. “We’re back!” Called Frost to his sister who was still struggling with the Christmas Eve meal.
“Oh, thank God, Johnny!” She exclaimed, a look of relief in her eyes when he appeared. “I honestly suck at cooking!” She exclaimed, gesturing to the mess the kitchen was in, used plates and bowls scattered on every surface, stray pieces of food on the floor where they had fallen.
“And you think I’m any better?” Asked Frost with a laugh. His sister couldn’t help but smile at his good mood. “The fact you tried is what matters.” He reassured her with a hand on her shoulder, “I’ll give you a hand in a minute.” He added. “Now come on you two, let’s set the table.” And he pulled the children out of the kitchen again, grabbing a pile of plates and handing the cutlery to Jimmy on his shoulders.
He lay out the plates, calling up to Jimmy for the cutlery he needed which was promptly handed down to him - narrowly missing his nose a few times, but Frost didn’t mind -  and continuing to ask Lottie to remind him how many people he was laying the table for, keeping her giggling.
The Joker was lost in the scene before him. Frost was so good with the kids and they were on their best behaviour for him in return. The young Jimmy stayed on Frost’s shoulders as he set the table and still remained there when Frost went to help his sister in the kitchen. The young girl, Lottie, was also a constant shadow to the large criminal, asking to help where ever she could.
Eventually they all sat down to a slightly dry, over cooked dinner, but no one complained and all the dishes were finished – the children overcome with delight when a microwaved pudding was brought out for dessert.
The Joker and Penguin stayed there the whole time, listening to the conversation and – though they must have been there for hours – it barely felt like any time before they were watching the kids being packed off to bed.
The two adults settled on the small sofa afterwards with a strong drink.
“That was a wonderful meal, Lucy, really.” Said Frost, toasting to her.
“Don’t thank me!” She protested. “It was you who payed for it! And who saved it in the end!” She said, raising her glass to him.
“I guess we should thank the Joker, really, otherwise I’d be stuck in prison with no money and no use for my cooking skills.” Joked Frost.
“I will not raise a glass to that insane criminal!” Said Lucy moodily. “I know what sort of a man he is – even if you choose to ignore it! You wouldn’t have ended up in that prison if it wasn’t for him anyway!” She snarled.
“Woah Lucy! Cool down.” Frost said, gesturing for her to tone it down. “You know better than anyone else that I was destined for prison years before I met the Joker – I had nothing else and always got in trouble! Plus, what other job would I get on with a criminal record, hmm? Nothing that pays this well! I’d end up in a fast food joint on minimum wage and I wouldn’t be able to help you out with supporting the kids.” Frost pointed out. Lucy scowled, but remained silent, resigning herself to the truth.
“He’ll miss you when we go.” She said suddenly, “Jimmy.” She clarified, taking a sip from her glass. “And Lottie – they’ll both miss you.”
“He’s a good kid – they both are.” Said Frost, his face no longer showing any sign of the happy, laughing person he had been only an hour ago, now he just looked very tired.
“He loves being on your shoulders.” Lucy said, reminiscing to her son’s smiling face early. “He hates that bloody wheelchair almost as much as I do.”
“Have you spoken to the doctor about crutches?” Asked Frost, “At least then he’d be trying to use his legs more – might help.”
“The doctors say his arms are too weak and frail – he wouldn’t be able to support himself on them for long.” Lucy said sadly. “But they also say if he doesn’t start to use his muscles soon, he’ll only deteriorate - and he’s depressed enough as it is…” She trailed off
Frost looked at his sister sadly, placing a large hand on her knee in comfort. “You know you’re always welcome to stay here.” He said.
“You know I’d take that up in a heartbeat, Johnny – you’ve always been such a help – but I can’t do that to you - you do enough as it is. Besides, this place isn’t big enough for 4 people – especially when two of them are hyperactive kids.” Lucy murmured, her eyes showing her hopelessness.
Frost knew she was right and just gazed sadly off, sipping at his glass.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, a sharp blast of snowy wind cut across the Joker’s vision, blurring the scene before him and it dissolved before his eyes.
“Tell me, Ossie…” Drawled the Joker as the snow sped past them, “Do you know what’s gonna happen to that kid?” Despite this having to be created by his brain, he felt the hallucination was likely to know more about this then he consciously did – they seemed to be quite otherworldly and omnipotent – and the Joker had the odd urge to know a bit more about this young boy’s future.
The Penguin regarded him with an unimpressed look and a raised eyebrow. “If nothing changes, then he won’t live to see his high school graduation.” The Penguin muttered, sounding anything but interested.
The snow finally cleared and J was able to see more than an inch in front of him again. It didn’t take long for the Joker to recognise their surroundings even in the darkness of the early morning. They were on the outskirts of Gotham and directly in front of them was a bungalow.
“Care to tell me, why we’re stood on a toxic waste dump, Ossie?” Snarled the Joker, trying to keep himself civil to the hallucination, but the anger in his voice was obvious behind his restraint.
“Always so foolish.” Tutted the Penguin. “You’re safe.” He muttered, though he didn’t sound pleased about this fact. If this had been the real Penguin, J probably wouldn’t have believed him, but this should all just be a hallucination anyway - so he should be safe. Yet, everything up till now had been so real that he had panicked when he saw the familiar swamp-like surroundings, the darkness making it even more menacing. He had to admit Pamela had style – and good security.
The two men wandered closer to the bungalow that – from the outside – look abandoned like all the other buildings in this area, expect for the fact that it had numerous colourful lights draped around it.
That wasn’t Pamela’s style. Which only meant she wasn’t alone.
The men stopped outside the main front window which showed into the rather small living room with a couple of sofas, an electric fire and a TV. The room was decorated quite extravagantly with lights, tinsel and festive ornaments. And, sure enough, curled up on one of the sofas was Pamela Isley, her arm wrapped around none other than Harley Quinn. Both in thick, fluffy pyjamas watching a movie -  Harley close to drifting off in Pamela’s arms - looking completely content with life and missing no in their own little world.
“Why are you showing me this?” Demanded the Joker, turning to the Penguin next to him.
Penguin shrugged, “Maybe to show you that no one needs you in their lives. That if you choose to leave them, they live on and they will be happy. But you will always be alone.”
The Joker scowled darkly at the plump man. He could talk – J doubted anyone would miss ol’ Ossie here if he happened to vanish - except maybe his customers.  Joker hated to admit it, but the man was a half-decent smuggler and dealer.
As J thought about this, the lights in the room in front of him suddenly went out. He frowned at the window, the light suddenly flickering back on, but this time J’s view into the room was blocked by a large Christmas tree decked in golden lights and different coloured baubles.
J blinked, and the next thing he knew he was stood in the hallway of a rather large house. On his right was a doorway through which he could hear voices. He peered through and saw a small gathering of 6 people on comfy sofas, enjoying a strong drink after having retired from their evening meal. The fire was roaring in the hearth and, sat against the window, was the large tree that had blocked J’s view a moment ago.
Suddenly his attention was caught by a laugh that seemed to drown out all other voices in the room  “[Y/N]” He growled and his eyes snapped to the source of the sound, finding [Y/N] chuckling away to something the man next to her had said.
“That was a wonderful meal, by the way, [Y/N].” said one of the ladies on the other side of the room, raising her sherry glass to her. Even from this distance, J could see her blush.
“Yes, delightful!” Cried another person in agreement.
“Shame that the 7th person couldn’t make it.” Added another one, clearly not knowing who it was that was missing.
“Well… Yes…” Said [Y/N] uneasily.
“Didn’t you say he was awfully rude about it though?” Asked a rather uptight looking lady close to the fire.”
“Yes, he was bit…” Muttered [Y/N], clearly not happy about the direction the conversation had now turned. “But I guess he didn’t miss much though.”
“Only a great meal!” Cried one.
“And wonderful laughs!” Called another. “Bah humbug to him too!”
“Oh, there’s no need for that!” Cried [Y/N]. “I believe the man is miserable enough without it.” She said. “Besides, I don’t hate him for how he rejected my invitation.” She explained, “No matter how rude he was. It just makes me sad to think of him all alone, missing better company then he could ever have in that head of his, stuck in that old office.” [Y/N] mused. “I do however, mean to continue to invite him here each year - despite his uncouth words. I feel like I am defying him and his bah humbugs that way – the fact that each year I return in good temper to ask once more.  And maybe I incite the smallest amount of a Christmas in him by doing so – and that is enough for me.” [Y/N] finished, taking a large gulp of air. Clearly, she had been thinking about this matter a long time, and this line of conversation had finally brought it out of her.
“Hear, hear!” The room called jovially to her speech.
“You truly are a sweet person. [Y/N] – you just embrace the meaning of Christmas!” Cried one of the younger women. “I would probably have slapped that man silly by now!”
[Y/N] laughed heartily, “Don’t think I haven’t thought about it!” She teased.
The scene then seemed to ripple like water and a clock tolled two o’clock in the darkness that then consumed them. The Joker didn’t even realise he had closed his eyes until he opened them again and found himself back, once more, in his office.
The Penguin was nowhere in sight.
J didn’t bother to search for the man. He was starting to get the gist of when his hallucinations were over. He didn’t even bother to reach for his drink this time either. No amount of alcohol was going to help this, and it would probably only make it worse if he were to drink himself into a stupor.
Besides, he knew someone else was going to come now. Marlo had warned J of 3 hallucinations and J believed there would be 3.
So the Joker wasn’t surprised when he turned away from the office door and saw a tall, dark, cloaked figure silhouetted in the window behind his desk.
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daddysfangirls-marvel · 7 years ago
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Polyamorous: Restaurant pt2
Pairing: Steve Roger x fem! reader x Bucky Barnes/ Stucky x reader
Warning: language
Summary: The mask falls 
First kiss | First touch | Moving in | The day they left | Found you | The day Stark found out| Big Change | The Train | The Plane | Alone | Unfortunate Sequence of events | I know her | Restaurant Pt 1| Restaurant Pt2 
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"Bucky, Bucky" Steve kept screaming into the earpiece but Buck wouldn't budge. He said they were changing the plans but didn't elaborate any further.
"see the woman over there Ms. Vanschitch when it happens follow her" Bucky said as he began to turn and leave Clint stopped him "when what happens". On the East side of the building second floor, there was a large explosion that shook the whole building. 
"that" Bucky said leaving Clint and Sam. They did as were told and followed her.
"I'm going in," Steve said picking up his shield and he was gone before anyone could stop him. Natasha announced him coming and followed. Tony, Wanda, and Thor following her. Only ones left being Vision and Bruce.
Bucky walked by each individual cell letting out certain people innocent people or people he knew wouldn't go on a killing spree, and told them one thing "fight your way out". The few who were left begged for release but Bucky knew better than to let them out.
"please, please ... help me" one woman begged she had light blonde hair the ends were dyed blue and red around her neck was a collar that read 'Joker'. If she was his then she most definitely wasn't getting out. "I'll kill you. I'm going to FUCKING KILL YOU. KILL YOU, KILL YOU, KILLLLL YOUUU" she screamed as he walked away from her in the distance he could hear her banging her head on her cell barriers. Yeah, he wasn't letting her out.
Upstairs was in utter chaos guards vs. pets vs. Avengers. The guards were getting their ass handed to them and pets were fleeing like crochet in the light. Bucky made his way back upstairs into the destruction. He saw Natasha chasing someone "let them go," he said approached her “we can’t  let them get away”
“and they won’t but right night we’ve got a mission. Sam, Clint?”
“second floor heading for the North exit” Sam answered
“got it”.
The team found them all running down the main hall to the north exit photo shoot. Their shoes, and thrusters, the only sounds echoing down the hall. Turning the corner they were found “BUCKY!” “NAT!”
Natasha was unconscious on the floor Bucky stood over her with Ms. Vansnitch and their target behind him. Bucky turned around. He stood tall and dangerous in front of them his head low.
“ Bucky?” he looked up This was not Bucky  “Убей их“ Vansnitch said.
In one swift move Wanda, Thor, and Tony were on the floor and out of commission, electrified. Clint pulled out his hidden bow arrow and began firing at the Bunny girl who easily dodged all of them one actually ricochet and hit Sam knocking him out with an electric shock. She did a flip kick on Clint hitting his chin but he was still up. She knocked his bow out of his hand “shit” he said then flung an arrow at her. On the floor not far Bucky and Steve were struggling. Steve was trying to talk some sense into Bucky. The said  something they both, (y/n) and Bucky, thought they’d never hear him say again.
“I’m selfish and that’s why I love two”.
Bucky stopped struggling with Steve and the Bunny girl with Clint.
All three of them were curled up on the couch under a mountain of blankets, sickly Steve in the middle. Outside the store Christmas lights lit the snowy streets. Carolers could be hear down below everyone was outside listening. These three were curled up warming each other.
“I’m sorry” Steve said shivering “you should be down there listening with everyone else instead you’re taking care of me”
“what’s the point in listening if you can’t hear” (y/n) kissing Steve’s forehead
“Besides pal, you’re always trying to fight for us. Sit down let us take care of you with complains or apologizes for once you selfless ass” Bucky said pulling Steve closer.
“Bucky you’re selfless too. And (y/n) is -”
“selfish not selfless” (y/n) stopped Steve before he finished “I’m the definition of selfish, I’m selfish and that’s why I love two” she kissed both their lips and giggled 
“(y/n) selfish (l/n)”
Clint took her moment of hesitation and kicked her in the chest making her stumble back and her mask fall off.
“(y/n)?”
With a sudden shock she collapsed into Thor who stood behind her. She hazily looked around eyes falling on the place where Ms. Vansnitch once was she uttered one word before blacking out.
“Mama?”
Request tags 
Polyamorous tags 
@ruinerofcheese @seargantbcky @ugh-supersoldiers @permanent-lines @hailqueenconqure @thenightkillers @ale-r14 @demonlover87 @shockwavee @angielollipop
Permanent tags 
@sexysamsungl @totallyweirdsam @geeksareunique @lovely-lollipops-blog @lilylovelyxo @that-random-emu @iamwarrenspeace
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1-800-imagines · 8 years ago
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Masterlist
Finally Finished! Here’s the full Masterlist in all its glory!
Suicide Squad
The Joker
1
2
3
4
5
Doctor / Part 2
Harley’s Sister
Boss Man
Joker’s Daughter
Stolen NSFW
Concert (Preference)
Bad Day NSFW
Being a Daddy (Preference)
Jealous
Phone Calls NSFW
Boss Man
Materials
Scars
Digger Harkness ‘Captain Boomerang’
Fluff
1
Chato Santana ‘El Diablo’
1
2
True Blood
Eric Northman
1
2
3
4
5
6
Hurt
Fluff
Jealous
Alcide Hervaux
1
Jealous
Fluff
Jason Stackhouse
1
2
Family (Preference)
Fluff
Sons of Anarchy
Jax Teller
Addictive (Semi NSFW)
Jealous NSFW
Downwards Dog NSFW
1
2
3
4
5
Ice Cream
Fluff
Family Fluff
Boxing NSFW
Drabble
Chibs Telford
Little Sister
Jealous
Baby
1
Juice Ortiz
1
I love you (preference)
Being his wife (preference)
Chibs’ Niece
Happy Lowman
1
Competing 
Fluff
Opie Winston
1
Herman Kozik
Baby Girl
Competing
Tig Trager
Flangst
Shameless
Carl Gallagher
1
2
3
4
5
6
Lip Gallagher
1
2
3
4
5
6  (Halloween)
7 (Dad!Lip)
8
9
10 NSFW
Ian Gallagher
1
13 Reasons Why
Justin Foley
1
Dating him (Preference)
Montgomery de la Cruz
Dating him (Preference)
Supernatural
John & Dean Winchester
Choices
Dean Winchester
Serial Killer
Proverbial Dog House
Meeting Daddy / Part 2
1
2 (Dad!Dean)
3
Fluff
John Winchester
Angst
These Days
Sam Winchester
1
Random
Turkey Day
Being Bobby’s Daughter (Preference)
Game Of Thrones
Jon Snow
Homecoming
1
2
Leaving
Flangst
Twin
Jaime Lannister
Flangst
1
2
xStark!Reader
Tommen Baratheon
Hurt
Fluff
1
Being Married (Preference)
Unique / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4
Tyrion Lannister
Book Room
Stealing Books
1
Robb Stark
Dating Him (Preference)
Birth
Flangst
Grenn
1
Lost
Theon Greyjoy
1
2
Trapped
Sansa Stark
1 NSFW
Sandor Clegane
Mine NSFW
Fluff
1
Oberyn Martell
1
Angst
Bran Stark
Fallen
Come Back to Me
Lots of people
Making you cry
Original Character
Lyanna Baratheon
The Walking Dead
Daryl Dixon
Daryl’s Baby
Dating Him (Preference)
Jealous
1
Saving Grace
Shane Walsh
Dating Him (Preference)
Carol Peletier
Her Long Lost Daughter
Carl Grimes
Dating Him (Preference)
Negan
Marvel
Tony Stark
First Christmas (Preference)
1
OC Hadley Stark
Family Fluff
Loki Laufeyson
1
Thor Odinson
Fluff
Clint Barton
1
Peter Quill
Fluff
Headcanon
How they fight for your attention
Riverdale
Archie Andrews
1
Jughead Jones
1
The Vampire Diaries
Damon Salvatore
1
2
Klaus Mikealson
1
2
Grey’s Anatomy
Alex Karev
Anxiety Attack
Oh Baby
Daughter 2
Shooter
1 / Part 2 NSFW
Derek Shepherd
Car Crash 
Teen Wolf
Isaac Lahey
1
The Outsiders
Sodapop Curtis
1
Headcanons
Cuddling
Reign
Francis
1
Twilight
Carlisle & Esme
Being Their Daughter (Preference)
Paul Lahote
1
Star Wars
Kylo Ren
1
Dirty Dancing
Johnny Castle
Be My Baby
Here ya go lovelies! Enjoy.
276 notes · View notes
thejokersenigma · 7 years ago
Text
Christmas Fan Fiction Advent Calendar 2017 - Day 24 - Joker x Reader - A Christmas Carol - Part 4
All I’m going to say is HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO EVERYONE and THANK YOU VERY MUCH! to all those people that have been reading this work.
I honestly can’t believe I did it haha
ENJOY!
MASTERLIST
The shadowy figure moved silently forward, passing directly through the wooden desk in front of it without any change and stopping a few feet from the Joker.
The illusion must have been masked in complete black because he seemed to merge with the shadows, and the closer he got to the Joker, the more an odd sense of dread with the clown.
“Are you supposed to be the next one?” J asked the apparition who loomed in front of him. The figure said nothing. “Let me guess…?” Drawled J, “The Ghost of my future?” It still didn’t answer, but simply raised an arm, pointing hand towards the Joker and past him. The faint light in the room allowed the Joker to make out that the hand was gloved, but that was it.
J eyed the finger sceptically with a raised eyebrow, following where it pointed to the office door behind him. “Are we ‘off’ again…?” The Joker asked – who really at this point was feeling more tired than he had felt in a very long time.
There seemed to be a slight movement of the head in the darkness and J presumed this was a nod.
Although he was pretty much getting use to his constant hallucinations at this point, this illusion seemed to strike J more for some reason. He was rarely afraid, but this thing seemed to radiate horror - like there was something behind the shroud of shadows that was truly horrifying.
“Ok, ‘spirit’” J muttered, “though you don’t look as friendly as my other hallucinations, I presume you are here for a similar purpose… to show me… something?” He asked, spinning his wrist, annoyance in his voice. No matter how relaxed he sounded though, he could almost feel himself cowering - something about this hallucination was really affecting him – maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the lack of sleep?
The shadow still didn’t speak, continuing to point past him. J rolled his neck in frustration, when he faced the phantom again he was grinning. “Well, lead on then…”
The figure moved towards him at that, and J recognised the creature also as soon as he caught the light almost immediately. He knew those pointy ears, sweeping cape and plated armour anywhere. The batman was his illusion.
J automatically stepped aside to let him pass – not sure if the hallucination would be able to pass through him or not. No of course it would! That was stupid to think otherwise – it was just a figment of a very detailed imagination - that was all.
Joker followed in intrigue as the ghost led the way, when they passed through the office doorway they did not end up in the hallway – and J was starting to seriously question if he still had one – but instead, Gotham city seemed to spring up around them like daisies.
The streets were empty like they would be at this time of night, but the bat - his gloved hand still outstretched -  continue to walk the direction he pointed, crossing a silent road and stopping at the mouth of an alleyway, still pointing down into it. J looked down the line of the illusions finger, seeing a small group of bedraggled criminals hunched together in the darkness.
Even from this distance he seemed to be able to hear them as clear as if he was stood right next to them.
“-n’t know how – just heard it from Snapper.” Muttered one, rubbing his dirty hands together against the bitter cold whistling through the alley.
“When did it happen?” Inquired another
“Snap’ said las’ night.”
“’ow did it ‘appen?” asked yet another man, pushing forward into their huddle more, placing a cigarette to his lips. “I thought he’d neva die.”
“Dunno.” Muttered the first guy again.
“Wats gonna ‘appen to all his power?” asked the one with the cigarette who was now digging into the pocket of the guy next to him, pulling out a lighter.
“Dunno.” Said the guy again, “Didn’t ‘av anyone to han’ it over to, did he? Certainly wan’t me!” He barked out a laugh and the other chuckled along with him.
When they calmed down, the fourth man of their party who previously had remained silence, now finally spoke up. “They’ll be a war now, lads. Mark my words. Ain’t gonna be a safe place in the city when there’s that much power at stake.”
There was a pause of silence at this thought. The guy with the cigarette took a long pull and puffed it out. He looked thoughtful. “Don’t reckon they’ll invite me to the funeral do ya?” He joked and they all laughed with him heartily again.
“I could use a free meal!” Chimed in another and soon the lads were all bent over chuckling away like this man’s death meant nothing for them anymore than for a bit of gossip.
Joker glanced to the bat whose exposed mouth and shadowy eyes showed no emotion, instead he moved on and J followed until Batsy paused further down the street where two men convened together in thick expensive coats and scarfs on the snowy pavement by a shuttered shop.
J knew these men – he used to be good mates with them when he worked for Marlo, and he now always cut them into deals where he could - though he hadn’t personally spoken for a very long time.
“How are you, Nicky?” Asked one, grabbing ‘Nicky’s hands strongly like a close mate, placing his other hand other the top.
“Bloody freezing, Den. Bloody freezing.” Nicky grinned back, placing his free hand on top of the other man’s. The men both chortled together, though they both looked much older and worn than J remembered them
“Did ya see that old C’s bit it?” asked Den.
“So I hear. Hell’s gonna break loose.” Muttered Nicky. There was a slight pause as each man thought about this, then, “Did Georgie like her Christmas present? Took me ages to get that shipped over!” “Oh, aye, she did.” Said Den with a smile. “And she wants to give you a kiss for it – careful man I’ll get jealous.” He teased, and they both laughed again, Nick placing his hand on Den’s back, steering him down the street away from J and the illusion, chatting companionably.
The Joker was confused by this. What was Batsy playing at? Why did he need to see that? Getting one back for the amount of times he had toyed with him, maybe? Or was this supposed to have some profound meaning behind it that J wasn’t getting?
When he looked up at the Bat, the eyes were focused on him now and it made J rather unsettled, and he suddenly felt the bitter cold around him.
They left that part of town, heading out towards the waterside where J knew there were more slum-like, poorer areas, but where he personally never went.
The scenes were disgusting: overflowing industrial bins, graffitied walls and broken, smashed windows, nests of mouldy newspapers - that were clearly people’s beds -  walls lined with empty alcohol bottles, some whole, but most smashed and would make a quick and easy weapon for anyone around here.
The bat led him through a door that hung diagonally on its hinges and creaked when the wind battered against it. The room beyond was - if anything -  colder than it was outside. It was empty except for a counter that sat on the opposite side of the room where a man stood with a worn, patchy coat and a filthy woollen hat pulled tightly over his head and ears.
Just as J and the ghost entered in, two women and a man came in behind them. “Hey Joe!” One of the women called happily despite her unfortunate circumstances that was apparent from simply looking at her -  as well as the other two - there wasn’t a single clean piece of skin on them, their clothes looked to be sewn together rags and they had the twitchy, chaotic look of someone who liked the illegal stuff a bit too much.
The first women slapped a heavy canvas bag down on the counter in front of ‘Joe’ who looked taken aback by the heaviness of it. “Had a good hall, kids?” He asked in surprise.
“Aye, that we ‘av - we hit up ‘is death bed didn’t we, lads!” Grinned the women, turning back to the two that hovered behind.
Joe raised an eyebrow at them, impressed, and nodded his head, “Let’s have a little look then.”
“Abs – you first.” The first woman beckoned to the younger girl behind her who was no less grimy - though maybe not so twitchy in the eye.
‘Abs’ heaved her own bag onto the desk. It looked slightly smaller than the other woman’s and she emptied the contents onto the counter. A brooch, a pair of cufflinks and an inexpensive knife clattered onto the wood.
Joe appraised the items carefully, eventually handing over what he would pay for her.
“Next?” Joe called with a friendly smile. The woman beckoned up the man. He emptied the contents of his bag which consisted of a few towels, some smart looking shoes and a few pieces of silver. Again, Joe determined the value and handed over the coins the man was entitled to.
“Now open mine, Joe.” Pressed the leading woman excitedly.
“Alright Maz, give me a chance.” Joe said with a chuckle, now turning his attention on the much larger bag that the woman had swung onto the counter. He untied a few knots that were holding it together and then reached a hand in, unrolling a large, thick piece of expensive material.
“What on earth is this?” He asked in surprise, “Bed curtains?!”
“Uh huh.” Nodded Maz proudly, “Bed curtains.” She confirmed.
“You mean, you went in and just took them from the room whilst he lay in his death bed?”
“Yes, I do.” She said. “And why shouldn’t I?”
“You, my dear, were born to make your fortune.” Muttered Joe.
“Be careful with that pen – don’t get ink on the clothes!” Cried Maz.
“His clothes?” Asked Joe.
“Who elses?” Maz cried, “There won’t be a stain or thread out of place on those shirts I tell you – they’re his best. They’d just have been wasted if it hadn’t been for me.” She declared.
“What would you call ‘wasting it’?” teased Joe, admiring the cloth.
“Well, they would have gone and dressed the man and buried the clothes 6 foot under the Earth with him!” She declared in outrage. “Somebody was stupid enough to do it, as well, but I just took it off again! If a flannel shirt ain’t good enough for that, it ain’t good enough for anything!” She declared. “He can’t look any uglier anyway.” Maz added.
The Joker listened to this in amazement. He knew these things existed, but he’d never sought them out – what would he want with beggar’s scarps that were exchanged for a measly few dollars or bites of food? But these people were the lowest of the low in J’s opinion.
The women let out a mad bark of laughter at the large pile of money pushed her way by Joe. “This is the end of it!” She declared to the room around her as she snatched up the cash. “He frightened everyone away when he was alive, all to profit us now he’s dead!” She cackled, lifting the cash high in triumphant.
The Joker turned away. “Ok, Batsy, I get the picture, can you get that hag out of my sight…” He snarled.
Suddenly the run-down old room and the people within it were gone, and now J was in another room, knelt right next to the side of a bed. The rest of the room was pitch-black, so he could hardly see anything else around him, but some odd light seemed to filter down onto the bed before him so he saw, upon the naked mattress, a body lain beneath a thin white sheet.
No one else was in the room, mourning the man and J could make out no signs that anyone had been. He watched the shape in silence. He had never been one to fear death – that didn’t work in his line of business and often he accepted it with open arms, only to be sharply pulled away from it - but now, in this room with the silent body before him - the features and detail of the man hidden from his sight - it was actually affecting him, and in a far more striking way. He almost longed to withdraw the sheet that covered the body’s face, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
The Joker abruptly stood up. His head hammering. “I’m going.” He growled, not looking at the phantom nearby that had watched him this whole time.
The ghost said nothing to dissuade him, but when J looked at him, he was silently pointing a finger at the bed.
“I know what you want.” Snarled the Joker, “But I am not doing it…” He growled. Then his face fell, and he looked tired and vulnerable. “I can’t do it.” He muttered to himself.
Again, all the Bat seemed to do was stare at him.
“Does anyone truly feel any tenderness towards a death?” J asked eventually, his voice sounding tired - more to himself as a comfort, than anything else.
The Bat then reached for his cloak, spread it out wide so it seemed to encompass the whole room, and then, when he pulled it back into himself, the room had changed - J now finding himself back in a familiar flat. Frost’s flat.
Frost’s sister, Lucy, walked into the room, her eyes red and puffy and she sniffed slightly and she threw herself down on the sofa, rubbing at her face in exhaustion.
“Mummy…?” Came a quiet sleepy voice from behind J, and the girl J recognised as Lucy’s daughter, Lottie, appeared in the hall behind him. She looked a good few years older than she had done the last time he’d seen her.
“What is it, hun?” Asked Lucy, glancing over the back of the sofa at her daughter, “you’re supposed to be in bed.”
“Nightmare.” The girl mumbled through a yawn and waddled over in her yellow pyjamas to her mum.
Lucy gave her a small smile, “Come here then.” And pulled her up on the sofa next to her, the girl immediately cuddling into her side.
They were silent and peaceful for a few moments like that, then Lottie spoke up. “Were you crying mummy?”
“Why would you say that?” Her mum asked kindly
“Because I heard you, and,” The girl lifted her face to look at her mother, “your eyes are all puffy.”
Lucy smirked at the compliment. “Ok, maybe I was. But mummy gets a bit sad at the moment.”
“Is it because of Tim?” Asked the girl, intrigued.
“Yes, it’s because of Tim.” Murmured Lucy, kissing the girls head as she snuggled back into the crook of her mum’s arm. “But don’t tell your Uncle Frosty.” She murmured into the girl’s hair.
Lottie shot back up. “Why not?” She whispered excitedly.
“Because I don’t want to make him sad too – and mummy being sad makes him sad.” Lucy explained carefully. “So, can you promise not to tell him?”
“Yes.” Lottie nodded importantly.
“Thank you.” Lucy smiled gently.
They cuddled against each other for a while until Lottie fell asleep in Lucy’s arms and, eventually, the door to the flat opened and Frost stepped in looking tired and much older.
“Hi Johnny.” Lucy whispered. Frost glanced over, confused at her quiet voice, but Lucy just gestured to Lottie fast asleep in her arms. Frost nodded, took off his coat and made his way to the sofa, lifting Lottie into his arms and carrying her down the hallway to her bed.
He returned a few moments later with a tired smile to Lucy. “You alright?” He asked, collapsing into the armchair to her right.
“Yeah, I’m coping - what about you?”
“I went to check out how it was all going,” He said, “they said they’d be done before Sunday.”
Lucy nodded at this.
Frost continued. “You should have seen it Lu, how green it is…” He murmured, lost in thought, “and you’d be able to visit often. I promised him I would walk there every week…”
Suddenly Frost seemed to break under everything and he left the room. J had never seen his head henchman liked this. Never seen him with any emotion, let alone all of this. The Joker followed him into the hallway where he disappeared into his room, closing the door lightly behind him. J found him crouched next to Tim’s old wheelchair where he then put his hands on either of the arm rests like he was still looking at the young boy sat before him. He gave a weak, small smile and then stood up and walked out, looking much better for having done it.
“Sorry.” He apologised to Lucy, who quickly wiped away a few tears before Frost could notice.
“Don’t apologise.” Lucy said with a small smile.
They fell into easy conversations about their days and how Lottie was, and Frost suddenly mentioned [Y/N]. Joker suddenly perked up with interest.
“I bumped into her on the street. She grabbed me from behind – I didn’t even realise I had walked past her.” He explained. They had barely spoken before that really – Frost made it a rule not to talk to his Boss’s girls too much - in case the Joker took the wrong way - but [Y/N] had approached him in the street when she thought she had seen him look rather ‘down’ as she had put it.
When Frost had explained the passing of little Tim, she had exclaimed how terribly sorry she was to hear of it, and how sorry she was for Lucy having lost her son so young. [Y/N] had then proceeded to exchange numbers with Frost and begged him to call her if she could help him in anyway as she wasn’t too bad off herself even now.
“She sounds very nice.” Lucy murmured, smiling at the kind gesture.
“She is.” Muttered Frost. “Shame that the Boss messed it up with her – I was kind of rooting for that one – she was by far the best for him.” He said in thought. Suddenly he smirked. “Tim thought so too.”
“Did he meet her then?” Lucy asked, confused.
“No.” Frost said with a small laugh. “He just thought she sounded nice.” The two adults just smiled sadly to themselves as they thought back to memories of the little boy that had brought them so much joy, and now so much sadness.
The Joker turned back to the Bat beside him. “Ok, Batsy, our time must be up soon, so tell me…” He drawled, watching the man carefully. “Who was the man who was dead?”
Suddenly the flat around them dissolved and he was stood exposed on a hill on the outskirts of Gotham. The wind whipped around his shoulders and he glanced around at what he now saw was a graveyard. The hallucination stood a bit further up the hill from him in the snow, pointing down to one grave in particular. The Joker slowly strode up the hill to it, his feet slipping in the slushy ice underfoot.
The batman had always been a symbol of fear to the people of Gotham, but now there was something even more foreboding in his solemn figure.
“Everything that you’ve shown me, Batsy…” Started the Joker carefully, as he advanced slowly up the hill. “Is that what is to be, or what may come?” He asked lowly, too quiet for the illusion to hear, had he been a normal person but, somehow, J knew that he could hear him, even though the Ghost made no sign of it and remained pointing his gloved finger downwards.
“Tell me that, if something changes, these scenes change as well…” Growled the Joker - aggravated at the silence from the hallucination.
Still the Bat did not move nor speak.
None the less, the Joker advanced on towards him still, though his jaw was tense with his frustration at everything he had seen, and the answers he couldn’t have.
Finally, J was close enough to read the engraving on the stone before the phantom. It was a neglected grave, strewn with moss, and no flowers or tributes lay upon the earth at it’s the feet. The headstone simply read ‘THE JOKER. THE ONCE CLOWN PRINCE OF CRIME’
“This is me?”
The finger moved from the stone to J and back again.
“No.” Growled the Joker.
He looked at the Bat figure that now somehow seemed even taller and imposing then before and almost leered over him.
“I am not the man you have showed me!” growled the Joker. From what he had seen tonight he could tell something needed to change. “You wouldn’t torture me with this if there wasn’t something I could do about it!” He snarled.
There seemed to be a twitch in the Bat’s mouth and his hand looked to be shaking. “You have to tell me what to do, Batsy.” He growled at the illusion. “The three of you have led me this far… now you need to tell me the rest…” He snarled, grabbing at the now trembling hand - in that moment not realising that he had somehow grabbed an hallucination. The Bat tried to pull back from him, but J held on tightly until a strong wrench from the illusion finally freed his hand and he seemed to grow even taller before J until he collapsed into himself into a pile of coats, leaving only J’s office chair in his place.
J was back in his office, kneeling by his chair in exhaustion. Morning light streamed in through the curtains which had been thrown open, his desk sat next to him and - as he looked around - the rest of the room was the same as he remembered.
He got to his feet and strode to the office door and threw it open, finding - not Gotham city, not the dining room - but his usual penthouse hallway outside. He ran around the penthouse manically, throwing open every door to see it exactly as it had been at the start of the evening.
He stood in the middle of his penthouse, grinding his teeth and growling to himself. Marlo. That man. Even in death the old man liked to always prove J wrong. But there was a good reason for that – the old man was always right.
The Joker suddenly walked quickly to his room, the curtains were still in place around the bed - not pulled down by that thieving hag - the room was bright with light from streaming through the curtains, and his own body did not lie under the sheets, instead, the covers were thrown back where he had got out of bed in the middle of the night to go to his office.
It suddenly occurred to J that he had no idea what time or day it was. He looked at his phone which read 10am 25/12. Christmas Day. It had all happened in one night? He hadn’t hallucinated his way through several days?
J looked down at himself, almost unable to believe he himself was real, and he suddenly remembered he was in the same clothes as last night. He threw on fresh clothes, making himself look smarter than he had in a while - a new energy in him he hadn’t had felt in a long time and he found his hand almost shaking as he tried to button his shirt.
The next thing he knew he was down in the lobby of his building - not caring who saw him. He approached the desk and rang the bell on it. A man appeared behind it, and instantly stiffened at the sight of the Joker, pulling himself up straighter. “Y-yes, sir? Can I help you?”
“I need you to buy every Christmas food item you would think of and send it here.” He said gruffly, handing over a piece of paper with an address. “Don’t say who it’s from - and don’t let them turn it down.” Before the young man could argue, the Joker had walked away. An order from the Joker was an order you followed out, despite what logic there seemed for it.
J then strolled outside, his coat collar high and his head down as he walked through the snow flurry. He could have called a guy to pick him up and get him where he wanted, but he wanted to walk - he felt he needed to clear his head if possible.
How he knew where [Y/N] lived he couldn’t be sure. He vaguely recognised her house from what little his illusion had shown him – and for some reason he trust them - and somehow his feet carried him there and he found himself stood outside the familiar house with the large Christmas tree in the main downstairs window.
He stepped up to the door and rapped sharply on it.
[Y/N] answered it and her eyes widened when she recognised him. “J?” She breathed in amazement. He nodded, grabbed her hips and pulled her up against him, kissing her with a burning urgency. She melted instantly into the memory of his lips and kiss him back almost as intensely. Finally, she pulled away and looked shock at what had just happened.
“No.” She muttered stepping back and pulling the door in front of her, so it was a shield against the clown. “I can’t do this again J. No.”
J took a deep breath, “I don’t know what I am doing, doll.” He admitted, and she was surprised how vulnerable he sounded. “I know that I messed you. I know I hurt you. And I can’t fix that so I’m not going to try.” He said. “I’m here to tell you I’m going back to having fun and causing trouble - and I want you there when I do.”
She studied his face intently, looking for a sign that this was a trick just to get her back, but she couldn’t deny the honesty and almost tenderness in his eyes as he looked at her. She pulled the door open again. “Do you want to come for Christmas?”
He gave her one of his old familiar wide grins and followed her into the house.
The next day, J waited in his office for Frost to arrive. He was at least 20 minutes late now.
When he did finally show he reported to J as he always did first thing in the morning.
“Where were you.” Growled J, not looking up from his papers.
“Sorry I’m late, Boss, we got a bit too merry yesterday.”
“I don’t care what you do in your free time.” J snarled, “But I expect you here when I need you.” He glared. “It is with a heavy heart, Frosty – “ He said, reaching into his jacket and Frost could picture the gun he was reaching for and had to resist the urge to close his eyes – he would meet death head on “- that I raise your salary.”
Frost froze. “Excuse me, Boss?” Frost stuttered, as J drew out a cheque from his Jacket, placing it on the edge of the table closest to Frost.
“I believe the word, Frosty, is ‘thank you’.”
“And Merry Christmas.” Added a voice from behind Frost who turned in surprise to [Y/N] walking into the office in a one of J’s shirts with a mug of coffee. “J wants to help with your family situation – though he loathes to say it.” [Y/N] explained and J shot her a glare, though she just ignored him. “J would like to pay for physio for your sister’s son – Jimmy, right? And the kids are always welcome here any time, isn’t that right J?” She elbowed him, and Frost looked to him with his mouth slightly open.
J rolled his eyes, “Sure… but their mother better be here too…” He drawled unimpressed, though he shot a wink at [Y/N] who grinned at him.
“Oh, and, Frosty?” Called J as the henchman went to leave, still looking quite dazed by it all. “Ring up those men with those blueprints – tell ‘em I’ll fund it and anything else they feel they want to try – I‘m feeling generous.” Frost nodded and went to leave again.
“But none at Christmas!” Called [Y/N] after him. Frost paused and glanced at J for confirmation of this and J looked up at her with an adorning look in his face.
“Yeah, none at Christmas.” He agreed and [Y/N] smiled back at him, leaning down to kiss him. Frost left them alone and went to fulfil his orders with the weight of the world off his shoulders.
24 notes · View notes
thejokersenigma · 7 years ago
Text
Joker x Reader - A Christmas Carol Masterlist
Hopefully the title explains this series enough - basically my take on a Joker themed A Christmas Carol (contains other fellow Batman characters)
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
I wrote this as part of an advent calendar challenge so it’s a bit rushed!
16 notes · View notes
thejokersenigma · 7 years ago
Text
Advent Calendar 2017 Day 1 - Joker x Reader - A Christmas Carol Part 1
So here it is! The first of a series of 25 fanfictions, some connected, some not!
They will be of varying length (and quality haha) and I will do my upmost to get them all out on time!
In return could I ask a favor? No payment. No presents. Well maybe one. Could you leave a comment? I understand if you don’t have the time or inclination, but I miss the little comments I use to get and the little inbox messages.
My inbox has been empty too long so I’d appreciate it if you made my Christmas!
Thank you and I hope you enjoy then next 25 days!
MASTERLIST
The heat from the building’s entrance way engulfed J as he stepped back into his building. The air was almost suffocating, but he barely noticed as he pushed on through the lobby and into his private elevator that stood out of way through a private staff corridor. He elbowed past anyone who dared to get in his way, snarling at anyone who then turned to reprimand him before they realised who it was and quickly backed away. People knew he owned the building, but the chances of ever actually seeing him were so slim, most were still brave enough to use it.
J threw the door to the private corridor open with one hand, the other holding a piece of card, now crumpled in his fist. He stormed into the elevator, ramming the up button. He needn’t be more specific than that, the elevator only went to one floor. His floor.
J’s jaw was clenched so tight his teeth ached, though he didn’t feel that either, his eyes bore holes into the doors in front of him as he listened to the sound of air rushing past either side of him. He didn’t look at the card again, just kept his eyes straight ahead.
The building wasn’t the tallest in Gotham – that award would always go to the Wayne Enterprises building that sat smugly in the middle of the grimy city – but it was definitely a strong competitor for second place, most office blocks falling away beneath the penthouse windows. J couldn’t enjoy the view now; didn’t get the powerful feeling he often did staring out at the sprawling landscape before him through the floor to ceiling windows that lined the north facing wall. Instead, his mind was seeing the words that were scrawled neat on the card which was now a creased mess in his palm.
He wished she didn’t this every year. He hoped that this would be the year she forgot. That she gave up. Who was she to continue to contact him? Anyone else wouldn’t dare to be this annoying to the ‘Clown Prince of Crime’ as they nicknamed him. But she could. She always had. Yet the rest of the year he heard no word from her.
But this?! His grip tightened even more, compressing the screwed-up paper even smaller.
He never had mail delivered to his penthouse. Ever.
Few knew his address and he never had any deliveries made to the building, J ensured that any packages were sent to a secret off grid location, and never the same place twice. There could be no way to track anything to one location. No way to find him.
So, when Frost had informed him of mail waiting for him down at the front desk, J was ready to shoot whoever messed up.
Then he’d seen the handwritten address.
He had stepped outside at that point – after retrieving the envelope from the front desk – he hadn’t felt the bitter cold against his exposed arms from where his shirt sleeves were rolled up. He hadn’t cared that people were gasping at him, or abruptly turning and hurrying away, the screams of terror didn’t even make him blink. He had eyes only for the envelope in his palm.
Frost had heard the commotion however, and had followed him out, abruptly steering his Boss – surprisingly without complaint - out of the way of eyes and into a back alley where deliveries were unloaded to supply the building and those neighbouring.
J had opened the letter then, to be greeted with a polished, expensive piece of card, the edges frilled and bordered with a golden piece of string tied in a bow at one corner. Inside this gold frame was a picturesque Christmas scene of an old Victorian village, snow coating the pavements and roads, street lamps spotted along it with candles glowing dully behind the frosted glass, children running down the pavements, leaving footprints behind them as they dashed past a butcher shop with meat hung in the window, and made for a glowing shop full of old fashion jars of traditional sweets. In the centre of the card was a couple, both in typical Victorian era dress, wrapped in thick coats and scarves, with fluffy hats perched on their heads, wandering down the middle of the street, their backs to J, arms entwined in a classic couple’s walk.
He has stared at the card, absorbing the details and then flicking it open.
Dear J,
Hope you’ve had a good year, and aren’t alone this time of year – you know what you’re like.
Wishing you a Merry Christmas and A Happy New Year.
All the best.
Y/N x
 J was brought back to himself in the penthouse, staring down at the same piece of writing - now slightly less legible, thanks to the abuse the card had suffered by his crushing hand. Reading it again, only refreshed the anger and pain. He crumpled the note once more, less resistance this time, and tried to fling the paper across the room behind him. It, however, caught on the air created by his arm and fell limply to the floor only a few feet from him. He growled out loud in frustration, crushing his teeth together as he snarled at the offending card.
“Boss?”
J shot his gaze up to face Frost, the man have seemed to have apparated in the doorway, dressed in his usual simple black suit and tie with a trimmed beard and hair combed neatly back. Frost’s face was an emotionless mask, deciding it best to show no reaction to J’s behaviour or the fact that his chest was heaving with a strong emotion.  “A message from the front desk has just been sent up. Someone is asking to come up.”
“Who?” J demanded moodily. He had no important meetings planned with anyone.
“I don’t know. They didn’t say.”
J scowled, not in the mood for any surprise drop in’s from Cobblepot or Eddie. But, maybe that was what he needed, to let his frustration out on someone else. “Send them up.” J muttered, already heading towards his office, fiddling with his pistol in its holster. Frost was slightly surprised by this request, expecting to have to turn them away, but he said nothing, heading off to fulfil his order.
J fell into the large, leather chair, laying his pistol out on the large wooden desk in front of him. Knowing his luck, it was probably Harley coming back to beg for him again, J rolled his eyes at this thought. The girl was annoying, but at least she wanted to be around him, unlike – it seemed – someone else.
J didn’t have to wait too long until there was an impatient knock on the office door. He grunted an acknowledgement, not bothering to look up from some papers he’d been flicking through, until Frost cleared his throat. J glanced up then, watching as he stepped aside to reveal a woman stood straight and proper behind him.
[Y/N].
J’s expression didn’t change, the emotionless mask still perfectly in place, but in his head the voices were screaming at him.
“Merry Christmas, J.” [Y/N] smiled warmly from the doorway, as though this was just a lovely social visit. J’s facial expression still didn’t change, a permeant frown of indifference.
“Bah, humbug.” He muttered quietly, turning his eyes back to his work.
“J!” She reprimanded, crossing the room as Frost quickly made an exit from the office, closing the door behind him. “You don’t mean that.” She told him crossly.
“I do.” He sulked, refusing to raise his eyes like a petulant child. [Y/N] stopped directly in front of his desk, crossing her arms, annoyed. He lifted his gaze then, almost having to smirk. He used to love annoying her until she folded her arms at him.
He swallowed everything down though, “And what right do you have, doll, to stroll in here,” He said, waving a hand at the path she had made across his office, “and demand me to have a merry Christmas?” He asked with a raised invisible brow. “Why are you so merry, hmm…?” He pressed What do you have to be merry about...?” He said with a malicious sneer before returning his gaze back to the papers on the top of his desk.
“What right do you have to be so grumpy?!” [Y/N] demanded angrily, “I know you’ve had a successful run of heists - none of which the bat has managed to foil! I also know that you’re about to be declared the most powerful crime boss in the city!”
“Keeping tabs on me, are you kitten?” J teased cruelly. “Humbug.” He repeated simply again, knowing it would only dig into her more. She treated that word like it was a profanity, like a personal insult to herself as a person.
“Stop it J!” She demanded moodily.
“Why, doll?” Drawled J, acting truly intrigued, and leaning lazily back in his chair. “Why should I act any differently when every idiot in the city is acting like the world is suddenly the most wonderful? When apparently every low life and piece of scum is now supposedly fill with good peace and joy? Hmm?” He asked, politely, gesturing, his palms open, in comedic confusion. “Last time I checked it was the same world as last month…” He looked to be thinking about this statement very hard, “Nothing has changed…” He continued to muse, “… And yet people suddenly seem to care about how you are and what you’re doing, even if they haven’t spoken to you all year…” J kept his eyes away from Y/N in an exaggerated thinking posture, but he knew he’d hit home with that mark and almost felt her flinch.
“Personally, princess,” J concluded, shifting his gaze back to her, steepling his hands together, “I believe everyone running around and crying Merry Christmas to every soul ought to be shot in the head before they infect others with their fake, pointless cheer.”
“J!” [Y/N] cried, and he thought he noticed her eyes were wet. But in that moment, he saw her bristle, toughening herself up for what was to come next. “I would have thought you of all people would embrace this time of year.” She pointed, only the faint trace of emotion left in her voice. “Forming your fun little pranks, wrapping the bat in miles of enforced tinsel or trapping robin in a giant bauble!” [Y/N] suggested wildly, throwing her arms in the air in exasperation. “I’d almost encourage all of that over this!” She exclaimed, gesturing around at the dark office, J not bothering to open the curtains and the only light coming from the dimmed lamps scattered around the room.
“If you don’t like it, doll, I suggest you leave.” J grumbled, grabbing for his papers again.
“J.” [Y/N] said, trying to get his attention back, “I came here to ask if you would like to spend Christmas with me.” [Y/N] said, refusing to be dismissed so easily. Her voice was calm again, almost slowed, like she was trying to spell out reason to a sulking child.
The voices got louder in his mind, but J didn’t bother to look up, ignoring her. She had left 4 years ago and now she suddenly wanted to spend Christmas with him?
[Y/N] lost her temper then. “I’m am asking anything from but your company, J! And not even for my sake – but for yours!”
“Good evening, doll.” Was all J said in return, his eyes still on the desk.
[Y/N] was silent for a moment. “J…” Her voice cracked slightly.
“Good. Evening. Doll.” He said through a clenched jaw, still refusing to look up. He heard [Y/N] let out a loud sigh.
“Merry Christmas, J.” She whispered down at him one last time before she then left the office, leaving the door open. J heard her bid Frost a merry Christmas, which Frost returned enthusiastically to her, whilst J scowled in the dark. Even Frost was infected with the seasonal ‘good cheer’.
J heard the main door to the penthouse close behind [Y/N] and growled and muttered at himself.
“Boss?” J rolled his eyes down at the desk before he lifted his head to Frost once more. “Jacobs and Kens are here.” Frost informed him. J inhaled sharply. “They say they have an idea.”
“They do, do they…” J grinned nastily. Maybe he had finally found something to take his mind off [Y/N]. Frost knew that look and so let the men through - he wasn’t one to stand in the way of his boss’s entertainment.
The men stepped awkwardly into the doorway, one of them rapping nervously at the open door. J raised his gaze to them in answer. “Uh, hey boss – uh –“ One man led the way, the other followed silently behind. “Me and - uh – Ken ‘er,” the first man began, gesturing behind at his companion, “we ‘ere ‘oping to speak with Miss [L/N] – “
“Miss [L/N] has not worked with me for 4 years now…” Drawled J, watching them coldly, and the men stopped dead in the centre of the room.
“Oh.” The first man said in surprise, “Uh – well – well- ma’be we can speak with you then, boss?” He floundered, Ken behind him staying silent. “Ya, see we’re ‘ere to propose a li’l scheme that we thin’ would relly work over this ol’ seas’n!” the man said excitedly.
“Is Eddy boy busy?” Inquired J politely. The two men looked at him confused, then realised who he was referring to.
“Uh – no, sir, not that I know of.”
“And what about ol’ Harvey boy?” He asked as though genuinely intrigued.
“No, sir.” They answered simply, though confusion was evident in their voice.
J nodded along to these answers politely. Suddenly he stopped, now staring at the men and they noticeably flinched. “Then why, my fine gentleman, have you chosen to muddy my carpet to bring me nothing but words?”
“Well – boss – we know that you’re the – the most powerful man in Gotham at the moment – “
“At the moment, hmm?” J snapped, pushing to himself suddenly to his feet once more, “Do you mean to say your loyalty lies in power alone, hmm?” J growled, “The minute someone makes a move to rob me, you change sides is that it, boys?”
“N-N-No, sir.” The first man stuttered, and Ken was violently shaking his head.
“Then I suggest you stick to your jobs description…” J drawled, “And your rank… And do not try to interfere with my business...” J growled, lowering himself back to his seat. “You’re not paid to think above your station and are you not paid enough?” J asked, daring them to answer wrongly.
“No – of course not, sir, the money – the money is good.”
“Just good, hmm?”
“It’s great, brilliant.”
“Well in that case maybe I should reduce it!” J suggested brightly, toying with the men. Their faces were priceless - such looks of alarm and fear he had to cackle at them. “Oooo I tease!” He chuckled and they weakly laughed along with him.
And then he stopped, suddenly dead serious. “But, boys… Let us get this straight… There will be no more ‘work’ until I say so. That does not mean, though,” He added as a look of joy crossed their faces at the prospect of time off – “that there are not other jobs that need doing – like shifting some rather valuable items out of the city.” He hinted. They nodded along obediently, trying to hide their disappointment from him.
They remained standing there, as though waiting for more instructions until J raised an invisible eyebrow at them and they realised they were being dismissed. They then quickly took their leave, walking quickly out of the office.
Just when J thought he had peace, another shadow appeared in the still open doorway. J growled at his paperwork again.
Frost didn’t even flinch at the noise, but he knew to tread carefully.
“Boss?” Frost began warily - you didn’t want to show J weakness, but you needed to show respect towards his temper. J snapped his head up to the slightly taller man. “Sir, it’s Christmas day tomorrow. I was hoping I could have the day off.”
“And what could you possibly want that for?” J demanded. “It’s not like you have a family.”
“Actually, sir. It’s my sister. She’s visiting with her children.” Frost explained, knowing J didn’t care and already knowing the answer.
But J didn’t answer, instead he eyed Frost carefully, searching his face as though daring him to show an inch to the fact he was lying.
“It’s just the one day, boss.” Frost insisted. He had, of course, hoped for more – having no seen his sister in 3 years, and her being not so well off and with 3 kids to handle – but that would be pushing his already thin luck.
“Fine.” J snorted. It wasn’t like he was planning anything any time soon, and Frost was loyal, J needed him to stay that way. He wanted respect and fear, not hatred. Hatred sparked betrayal.
“With pay?” Asked Frost. It wasn’t for him. Most of his pay went to his sister, and this time of year he wanted to save up as much as possible to give her a good Christmas and let her forget her troubles for a few days.
“Fine.” J growled. And Frost knew that was all he would get and quickly vanished from sight before J could change his mind.
J returned his gaze to the paperwork, but his head was pounding heavily, and he rubbed at his pale temple before he clenched his jaw and shoved himself up and away from the desk, heading towards the whisky decanter on a small table in the corner of the room. He poured a large glass of amber liquid into an ornate crystal glass and headed out of the room, heading to his large bedroom, passing windows that framed the icy streets and snow that had begun to flutter past the window panes. The image of the Victorian scene in the card flashed in his mind, but he pushed it down. He hated what [Y/N] could do to him.
She’d always loved this time of year. When they’d been together she had made him promise every year to not pull any crime within the 2 weeks around Christmas – she had wanted the whole month, but he’d managed to talk her down – it was his job after all he had pointed out. There had been strict rules for this – he would be allowed to spend the 2 weeks doing general admin and moving supplies around, and she had to keep him distracted, which she happily obliged with, spending all her time around the penthouse filling it with her Christmas spirit.
But that had started 9 years ago. She had been gone 4 years now.
Yet he still stuck to his promise - though there was nothing to entertain him any longer. In a spout of bitter hatred, he had specifically not stuck to it the year she had left, but he had been reckless and careless, and after only a short time he had landed himself in Arkham for 6 months, too depressed to do much about escaping.
Harley had busted him out eventually - hoping to gain some favours back - but he had ignored her and it didn’t take too long for her to give up and run back to Pamela.
Now he stuck to his promise – he couldn’t find a reason not to in his confused head. [Y/N] confused him. And Christmas was [Y/N] to J. So Christmas confused him. He was normal the rest of the year, but once December hit he practically hibernated away till after New Year.
He had tried to get [Y/N] back of course. Tired the minute she left. He’d sent Frost and his men out every day for a year trying to find her, yet they always came back with nothing. J had taught her well. She had vanished off the grid from him.
Eventually J had stopped asking for updates on the search and the men had got the gist and stopped bothering to look, things returning to normal like she had never existed.
But J always got a Christmas card from her. He would always forget until the day it arrived. It was like she was wiped from his memory until the day the envelope turned up, then, for a brief moment, she was back in the form of a basic wish of a Merry Christmas before she vanished again. Out of reach.
By now J had downed the glass of strong alcohol and reached his room. He paused at the door and stared blindly at it, the voices loud and all too real in his mind. He could hear Y/N’s voice loud and clear, all the others nameless voices except for one - old Marlo’s voice.
He shook his head. He never heard Marlo. Not since he died 5 years ago.
He angrily shoved the door trying to make as much noise in the real word to drown out the incessant noise in his ears. J headed straight to the decanter he knew was on his bedside table, once again pouring himself another large drink which he quickly downed like a parched man, and refilling it once more.
He could feel the alcohol warming its way through his body and slowly numbing the ache in his head. He walked to the window and stared out into the dark, the street lights showing late night shoppers and couples heading back from the centre of town. Prime meat for petty criminals. Not for J. He sipped now at the amber liquid, his eyes falling on his reflection rather than the city behind the glass.
He didn’t jump, or abruptly turn when the other face appeared behind him in his reflection. There was no way there was anyone else in the room with him, but it wasn’t the first time he had hallucinated, and the strong alcohol surely wasn’t helping.
“Evening, Marlo.” He greeted pleasantly to the ghostly figure in the glass, not surprised to see the old gangster after hearing his voice. The figment gave him a forced smile in greeting, clearly not pleased about something. “How’s life – sorry” J smirked, clearly not sorry for his ‘accidental’ slip up, “- how’s death?”
“We need to talk, lad.” Came the familiar rough voice. But this time it wasn’t in J’s head, it came from directly behind him. His hallucinations never talked back. He’d rather they didn’t. He let his gaze drop from the window, before looking back to the glass and finding Marlo still in the glass. That wouldn’t do, this figment was persistent.
J turned now, back to the room, and away from the haunting glass. Except he stopped almost instantly when he came face to face with Marlo - exactly where he should have been if he was real. Joker kept the shock from his face, his expression the well-practised mask of blankness.
His hallucinations must be getting worse. All the more fun for him. He took another large gulp of alcohol, hoping that oblivion would overpower his constantly buzzing mind and he would be able to rid himself of this ghost and fall into an abyss of exhaustion that was calling for him.
He attempted to ignore the hallucination of the dead man and pushed forward, walking straight through him. A cold wave of something travelled through him as he did it and it made J stiffen, but he continued to the wingback chair on the other side of the room, grabbing the bottle of whiskey from the bedside table on the way and refilling his now empty glass.
“Look, lad.” Came the voice and he reluctantly looked up at the figure that had moved closer, now standing at the foot of his bed. “I don’t ‘ave much time.”
“I don’t believe you have any time.” Growled J back, not in the mood for his own mind’s games. “I believe your time was up when that bullet hit you in the chest 5 years ago.”
The figment smirked reluctantly, “Always so funny.” He muttered as J dropped down into the chair in front of him still holding the whiskey bottle. “Still chuggin’ on the good stuff as well I see.” He pointed out.
“Clearly I have no imagination if all you’re here to do it observe everything I’m doing...” J drawled.
The man frowned, stepping – thought it looked more like floating - forward a few more foot. “You think I’m one of ya hallucinations, don’t ya boy?” He inquired. J ignored the ‘lad’s and ‘boy’s, knowing that was Marlo in his mind, and nothing was going to stop him treating J like the young man he had been when Marlo originally met him. J stoppering the decanter in his hand and placed it on the small table next to him - only one glass left in the bottle now. “I guess that’s the problem with visiting a man who’s already ravin’ mad.” The phantom pointed out.
The Joker continued to be silent, but he sipped the drink, watching the hallucination carefully. He was trying to decide if he was glad to see Marlo or not. He couldn’t help the fact that he missed his character, he was, after all, his old mentor from when he was a petty criminal.
“Think of me wha’ ya want, boy” The figment of Marlo, told him, mistaking his far-off expression, “but I hav a message and ya need to lis’en.”
“When have I ever listened to you?” Joker grinned over at his old friend, hallucination or not.
“Never.” Marlo admitted with a small smirk, “And it some’ow worked out for ya. But I’m beggin’ ya to listen jus’ this once.”
Joker rolled his eyes, waving his hand impatiently, the sooner he ‘listened’ the sooner the figment would vanish.
The figment moved even closer, taking a seat in the identical chair next to him. Just like J knew him, he didn’t beat around the bush. “When I died I tol’ ya to rule it all, didn’t I lad? Aye, I remember the words. I knew ya’d be able ta. Easily.” Marlo said, his eyes looking at J, but not seeing him, lost in memories. “I told ya ta do it because I ha’ tried, and I ha’ failed.” J cold eyes watched him calculating. “And though ya say ya never listen, lad,” he teased, like he did when J was younger, “I know ya did.” J didn’t say anything, too focused on the ‘ghost’. Marlo sighed heavily now and he suddenly seemed to be weighed down strongly by something. “But I’m now askin’ ya to forget it. It’s not you, lad. It never has been. My goal was riches and power. Yas never was. Ya the Joker!” He exclaimed gesturing at the criminal across from him as if that explained everything.
J continued to stare at the man and the man watched him back. When he spoke again, his voice was lower, almost husky, like it was after he had yelled at J when he caught him disobeying orders.
“Ya losin’ yaself in the need to fulfil what I asked of ya.”
“You might have asked me, but that doesn’t mean I had to do it.” J growled, “I’m not doing anything because of you.” Marlo had a look of pity that J remembered all to well from years ago when J had been half the man he was now – when he’d been lost and ignorant.
J could say what he wanted to Marlo, but the man knew him too well to buy his bullshit. “You’ve looked better, old man.” J pointed out with a grin, changing the subject to get rid of that look of pity. It was true though, the figment before him wasn’t like the man J had once known, his clothes were torn and dirtied, and J now noticed the large hole in Marlo’s chest which was surrounded by a particularly large stain. Where the bullet had hit.
J wished he’d been there. He would have tortured the man that did it. It had been during a gang fight for power - a cause that Marlo had dedicated his life to -  and J, having at this time moved on from Marlo’s teachings, had been on the other side of the city. By the time he got wind of the new and had arrived on the scene, reinforcements had already arrived and dealt with the killer with a simple shot to the head. Too easy. Too nice. J had found Marlo left to bleed out and barely alive, no hope of survival.
“Ya don’t look much better, yaself.” Marlo gently ribbed, gesturing to the messy hair where J had ruffled it by repeatedly running his fingers through the green strands, and the dark shadows that lay under his eyes. He didn’t even begin to comment on the sheer number of drinks he knew the clown had downed that evening.
J grunted something unintelligible sounding like ‘careful’.
Marlo chuckled quietly. “I’d like ta say ya’re the same lad I knew, but ya aren’t.” J watched him, waiting for him to explain himself. “Ya more like me now.”
“Yeah, well you were always good at your job.” J pointed out lazily, reclining back in his chair.
Marlo nodded sadly, “My job, but nothing else, lad” He said. “Money and power was all I had. Nothing else to my life…” He trailed off and seemed to be lost in his own mind, a vacant, far off look in his eyes. “An’ now I’m dead. An’ I’m alone. Always alone.” J said nothing, but Marlo could sense the scepticism.  “Yeah, it sounds sappy,” he brushed off, “ – an’ I didn’t believe it at firs’ – but I’ve been there, hell I’m there righ’ now!” Marlo explained, his face looking older and more haggard. “But I’ve learn’ the ‘ard way tha’ – when ya’re dead – ya’re only companions are those that loved ya in yar life, and who ya in turn loved - they ‘re who ya’ll spend eternity with, lad.”
J let out a long, cold, emotionless laugh. “That’s rich! Tell me another sob story, bring some tissues this time.” He cackled.
“I would have laughed too if I wan’t stuck in it.” The look on Marlo’s face made J stop mid laugh. He may be a phantom, but J could still read the truth in his eyes, just like the man had taught him.
“Aww, come on Marl!” J joked, leaning forward, but the cold seriousness on Marl’s face made him relent, “Ok, say it’s true…” He sneered, “What about your own mother?”
“Does ya mother love ya?” Marlo asked in return, but he didn’t wait for the answer, instead he shrugged, “I showed ‘er no love, she showed me none in return.” He said simply.
“No wives? Girls that took an untimely end?”
“Never marrie’. Never kept a girl more than a week.” He admitted. “’ope they’re all alive anyway. I didn’t know them, though, lad. Didn’t care enough.”
“Surely Finn and Hugh have some weird… man crush on you.” The Joker pointed out with a smirk.
“Even if they did, they aren’t dead yet – seen Finn out by the Harbour, an’ Hugh’s left town.” Marlo informed him, “But can’t say by the en’ that I loved ‘em in return, lad. He admitted sadly, “Power does that ta ya - makes you anxious, nervy. Ya push people away. Even those loyal ta ya.” He looked at the man across from him, but J couldn’t understand the expression in his eyes.
“That’s why I’m ‘ere lad. Ya don’t have ta do tha’, or end up like this.” He said, gesturing to himself. “Ya ‘ad that sweet girl – Y/N.”
“She’s gone.” J growled sullenly.
“No, lad, she ain’t.” Marlo stated. “Ya’ve pushed ‘er away, but she never left ya’. Make it righ’, boy.”
“You’re a love expert now, hmm?” J questioned with a raised cocky eyebrow.
“I don’t claim to be, but forever is a long time alone - even if ya think you like ta be alone.” The figment said with a knowing look in his eye, easily able to read J. “There’s no distractions once ya’re dead, lad. Nothin’ to take your mind off the emp’iness ya’re hiding from righ’ now.”
“Right….” Dragged J, rolling his eyes, “Thanks for the therapy session…” He smirked lazily falling back into the cushions behind him, about done with this conversation now.
“Look, lad. I’m not a hallucination - contrary to what you migh’ like to kid ya’self, and I don’t know why you can see me now when the truth is I’ve been watchin’ you for over a year. Why I can suddenly speak ta you, I can’t be sure, lad, but I can make the most of it and warn ya – because – lad – as much as I never said it, and as much as you’d ‘ate for me ta say it – I actually care abou’ ya lad.” Marlo suddenly got to his feet. “Ya ‘ave a chance to avoid wha’ I’m going through and I strongly sugges’ ya take it.” He said, beginning to walk towards the window, though the way he was speaking it was clear he wanted to stay longer, but something was propelling him to the window. “For some reason ya’ve been given a change, lad. Take it. Get Y/N back. If no one else – get ‘er.” He almost begged, “The firs’ one ‘lll be ‘ere at 12 an’ –“
With that the voice was lost from the phantom, though his lips continued to move, and his feet walked him right into and through the penthouse wall, his body merging into the glass. J watched, cursing his over active imagination, as what appeared to a silvery gas seemed to rise off the window into the black night outside and drifted up into the air, like smoke from a chimney, blending amongst the snowflakes that continued to fall.
J remained in his armchair for a few moments, sat in thought, before he glanced sharply at the last mouthful of drink in his glass and ignored it, placing the crystal on the table and heading for the bed. Clearly his mind was past the point of any small glimpse of sanity for this evening and he didn’t want to encourage it further with more alcohol.
He fell asleep to the numbing heat of the alcohol in his system, and the sound of the sharp cold wind outside the window that reminded him of Marlo.
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thejokersenigma · 7 years ago
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Christmas Advent Calendar 2017 - Day 9 - Joker x Reader - A Christmas Carol Part 2
Phew, managed to finish with 2 minutes left until midnight! I’m tired and so this may not be the best! But I hope you enjoy anyway!
MASTERLIST
When J awoke the room was still completely dark, yet the clock by his bed read 23:07. It couldn’t be 11pm -  it had been 2am when J had left his office for his room.
It wouldn’t have been the first time that J had slept a whole day away, but the date on the clock still read 24/12. Maybe his head was still clouded with the alcohol.
He pushed himself to his feet, not feeling particularly rested, and made his way to the large windows that made up one of the walls of his bedroom. He ripped the heavy curtains away, the night outside still clearly pitch black despite the frost on the glass, blurred lights of the nearby buildings the only thing he could obviously see.
The Joker was wide awake now and stalked out into the rest of the empty penthouse, heading into his office where he firmly closed the door behind him and poured a large drink, the odd hallucination from earlier that evening still haunting his chaotic mind.
He sipped his drink moodily, sat at his desk staring blankly at the solid black door in front of him, only the small dim lamp producing any light in the room. Every time he thought of Marlo he kept thinking how something had been off about him. There were certain things he did that none of his hallucinations ever did. They rarely ever spoke back, never really listened to him like Marlo had, and certainly didn’t sit next to him for a chat. But it could only be a hallucination, nothing else – maybe Frost had just brought him the good stuff this time and so his hallucinations were, in turn, stronger than usual.
The Joker remained lost in his mind for the next hour, vaguely hearing the chiming of an antique clock that sat on the mantle piece of the unused fireplace in his study. It hit 12 and the dull chimes echoed through the empty rooms.
Suddenly a large light – similar to that of a flood light - illuminated the room making J shield his eyes. He had to wonder if the police had finally got lucky and found him out, thinking the light to be that of a search light of a GCPD helicopter – if they had any of those left after J’s latest stunts.
J spun to look at the window behind his desk, but the light was too bright to see anything, forcing him to shield his eyes. Just as soon as it had come, the light was gone, and the room was plunged into darkness – even the small desk lamp having somehow gone out.
J turned back to face the rest of the room again, finding himself blind thanks to the sudden darkness, and unable to make anything out through the glass. He glanced across at where he knew the lamp was on his desk. Was it purely coincidental that the bulb had gone out, or was this someone’s idea of trying to intimidate him?
He let out a echoing laugh into the darkness at the very idea and took another sip of his drink as the lamp flickered back on next to him. Must be a lose bulb instead then. He’d have to remember to yell at Frost in the morning. No. Frost had tomorrow off now. He clenched his jaw in annoyance at the thought.
But then something distracted J. A figure stood in the shadows of the room, too far back to for the small lamp on the desk to reach his figure.
“Can I help you?” The Joker asked dryly, not at all impressed by the disruption, his hand reaching into the drawer of his desk and retrieving the pistol store there.
“I am the Ghost of Christmas Past.” It said in familiar voice.
The Joker let out a loud, empty cackle, absent of any humour. “How the hell did you get up here, Eddie?” The man stepped into the light, dressed in his usual bright green suit, white shirt and dark tie, a matching bowler hat on his head and his hands gloved in purple, holding his usual golden staff, the end twisted into its characteristic question mark.
The Riddler said nothing in response to the question.
“You’d better have a good reason for disturbing me…” Joker growled in annoyance at Ed’s disrespect.
“I am here to help you.” He said simply, though his voice sounded more hollow than usual and he didn’t appear to be his usual cocky and flamboyant self.
“I would have thought it would have been more helpful if you let me have my drink and return to bed.” The Joker pointed out contemptuously.
“Your reclamation, then.”
“Smaller words Eddie…” Joker drawled, bored of the late-night visitor and wishing he’d take him and his riddles out of here. “Why couldn’t this wait till tomorrow?” Joker asked in annoyance, tilting his head back and leaning it against the back of the chair. He was feeling tired for the first time in a long time. All these hallucinations were taking it out of him.
Suddenly his chair was spun violently around, halting sharply so he faced the window again. Before he could even comprehend what was happening, he was yanked out of his chair by something pulling around his waist and landed nimbly on his feet despite the few drinks he’d had.
A glance down at his torso confirmed he’d been pulled by the Riddler’s staff, somehow unwrapping out of it’s usual solid shape to curl around his waist. The gun was still in his hand he now aimed it directly at Nigma’s chest.
“Huge mistake Eddie.” He snarled with a wide, sinister grin, not even bothering to wonder how Eddie had moved that fast, or how his cane how somehow been modified. The staff was unhooked from around the Jokers waist and returned to it’s usual size and shape in the Riddler’s hand.
“Come with me.” Was all the Riddler said, curling his fingers on his outstretched hand, his eyes not even bothering to look at the gun now pointing at him, as though he hadn’t even seen it.
“I don’t believe you’re in any position to tell me what to do, my wordy little friend.” Grinned the Joker madly, still aiming the gun – and people said he was crazy.
The Riddler ignored this too though, grabbing J’s arm that was outstretched with the gun, and dragging him towards the window. The Joker was slightly taken aback by the man handling, but barely hesitated before firing the gun at the exact point that he was pulled through the penthouse window.
When J’s eyes focused again he was stood in what appeared to be an old pub. It was completely impossible. Must be another hallucination and J growled something to himself. He’d never known them to be so vivid as to create a how new scene around him as well as a person – as he was now certain the man next to him could possibly be real. The Riddler stood next to him, completely unharmed and as uncaring at J’s presence as before, despite the fact that the Joker was certain he had shot him. Even now the man’s eyes weren’t on him, but straight ahead of where they stood.
The Joker was about to demand what was supposedly going on in this hallucination as he followed the fake Riddler’s gaze, but he was silenced by what he saw.
It was him. An old him – in the way that he was in fact younger. And his skin was normal. His hair wasn’t green. And he was wearing a dark, rather tatty and worn suit with a rather crinkled shirt underneath which was done up to the highest button.
Joker knew this moment from his past. But why was it playing out around him now? ‘The Ghost of Christmas Past.’ Was he dreaming rather than hallucinating? But he’d had never thought of this moment since he’d been dunked in those chemicals all those years ago.
There was one way to differentiate between hallucinations and dreams.  J reached into trouser pocket and pulled out a pen knife, flicking it open and, without hesitation, slicing into his left palm. The wound oozed blood sluggishly, quickly clotting. The Joker let out a loud cackling laugh at the sheer ridiculousness and impossibility of the situation.
“Alright Ghosty!” The Joker went, going along with the whatever his mind wanted him to see. “Whatta we here for?” He grinned.
The Riddler pointed at the front door as it opened to reveal two men. They walked casually into the bar like it was their regular place – which it was – grabbing a drink from the bar before they wandered over to where the younger J sat.
“Jacobs and Gamphrey….” Drawled the Joker, reaching out a hand to grab Gamphrey’s arm, but the hallucination walked straight through him, both men continuing on none the wiser, and taking a seat next to the other J and playfully elbowing him in the side. You couldn’t see it on his face – even back then he was good at putting on a mask – but the Joker knew he had been anxious that night. It had been Christmas eve. The night before the big heist. J’s first real heist that he had planned himself. It had taken a long time to get to that point thanks to lack of funds for it or anyone willing to take him seriously about the idea, but he had managed to cobble enough resources together with the help of the men now sat with him.
The Joker almost felt sorry for those men that had come to his office earlier that evening suggesting a series of blueprints for heists over the holidays. He had been in a similar position once.
“What is it, Joker?” Came the Riddler’s voice next to him as though he could read his mind. The Joker growled at him, clenching his jaw and not saying anything. Instead, he watched the naïve joking faces of the three friends. Jacobs and Gamphrey wouldn’t see the next morning.
“I always liked those guys…” The Joker mused, feeling himself soften slightly at the memories, but the creepy grin spreading on his face hid any emotions he had at the memory.
The Riddler nodded his head, a far off look on his face. “You will always find me in the past, I can be created in the present, but the future can never taint me.”
J shot Eddie an annoyed glance, but quickly returned his eyes to scene before him, only to find it had changed. The two men were gone, and the young J now looked slightly older, his hair neatly brushed and his suit replaced with a nicer one. He downed a glass of something as the Joker watched, then gestured for the bar tender for another, far more confident in himself now than he had been a moment ago.
The J in the memory was making eyes at a few of the women at the bar and they were flicking their hair behind their ears encouragingly. He gave them a smile - completely different to the one he frequently wore now – more cocky and arrogant.
Suddenly a man stood directly in the young J’s line of sight. “Odd way to spend ya Christmas, boy.” The Joker heard the man say in a familiar voice. The Joker looked at the man carefully, but only when he turned to take the seat next to his younger self, did he recognise a younger Marlo.
Marlo gestured to the barman as well, and, without a word in the way of an order, a bottle of strong port was delivered to the table.
“Ah, Wiese and Krohn…” Grinned the Joker happily to himself. “The man always liked his shitty port.” He told the Riddler, not caring what he said to them – after all, he was only a hallucination. They watched as Marlo poured two glasses and the young J sipped at it, making a face at the taste and Marlo laughing at his expression.
“He always told me I’d grow to like it.” J said, “Never did.” He admitted. “That was the night he asked me to join his little group. Said he saw potential in me!” The joker giggled manically. “I was too big for my britches though, turned him down flat! Didn’t think I had anything to learn! Until I lost everyman I had!” J laughed chaotically, closing his eyes and shaking with mirth at the memory of his failure and stupidity at that age.
When J opened his eyes again they weren’t in the pub anymore, they were outside a bar in the wintery night, the cold wind whipping through J’s hair, throwing it all over the place and biting at his exposed skin. His imagination was really working on overdrive tonight. He had to wonder if someone had spiked his drink.
“You know this place?” Asked the ghostly Riddler.
“Oh course…” Grinned J, picking up on the familiar décor. The place burnt down years ago thanks to a hit from a rival gang, but J would have known the place anywhere. It was Marlo’s original place of business. J had spent a large proportion of his life in this club.
It had been before the chemical bath that had warped his features and his life. Before he had changed.
He had tried to work alone for a long time - tried to set his own gang - but could never accomplish much more than a few small heists and petty crimes. Then one heist had gone horribly wrong and he’d lost all his men and had been unceremoniously kicked off his high horse.
After that he had sought out Marlo again to take him up on the offer from all those years ago. Marlo hadn’t let him in without a good bit of humiliation for J – which probably had done him good – but soon after became one of Marlo’s henchman, eventually working his way up to his right-hand man.
This club had been his home. He walked in without thinking about it.
The scene before him was one of the Christmas Eve before J had been plunged into the acid. The club was loud with the music of the era and the laughing and shouting of the dancers as the strobe lights flashed throughout the club. The Joker saw the memory of himself stood at the back of the club, tall and intimidating, next a booth where Marlo lounged with his usual glass of port, surveying the scene before him, a beautiful girl nestled under his left arm. Marlo’s girl. Marlo’s wife.
Her name had been Georgia and the two of them now cushioned up together had been inseparable and a team. She’d never looked that tough, but J had only underestimated her once before he had never done so again. She had been a force to be reckoned with and reminded him distinctly of [Y/N].
Back then J had liked one night stands just as much as the next guy, but he wanted to be like Marlo, and that meant having a girl like Marlo had.
It only took a dunk in some acid and a fried brain to get rid of that idea. No one would want him looking the way he did. But he hadn’t care anyway.
Until [Y/N]. She liked him before and she liked him afterwards. Well, up to a point.
Speaking of the girl, she now wandered up in the hallucination towards the booth. The Joker watched her movements across the club, unable to stop his eyes raking over her body, knowing each detail intimately and to the smallest degree, but still drinking them in anyway.  She hadn’t really changed from all those years ago, unlike him. She still held the same beauty and grace, walking with a sense of power and knowledge, always like she was one step ahead of you.
The Joker watched her glance across at the younger J who stood on guard by the booth with an emotionless mask over his face. Her gaze lingered on him in interest and a small smile turned her lips before she slid into the booth next to Marlo, kissing him and his wife on the cheek. Greeting her parents with a Merry Christmas before ordering a drink
J remembered how hard it was to keep his mind on his job that night, and his eyes.
After a short while, [Y/N] whispered something in her father’s ear, he glanced an expression of question down at her, but then nodded, straightening. “Lads!” Marlo called, and the surrounding henchmen gathered in front of the booth’s table, awaiting their orders. “My daughter has so kindly reminded me it is Christmas,” He told them, gesturing at the young girl by his side, “and so, she has persuaded me to give all of you the night off.” He exclaimed, and a ripple of murmurs broke out amongst the men. “You may do what you please, but under the condition that I insist you stay on the premises in case of a sudden requirement for you.” Marlo added.
The men nodded eagerly, not believing their luck. Marlo’s club was hard enough to get into on a normal night, let alone the Christmas Eve party – this was a night not to be missed, none of them wanted to leave anyway and they had soon disappeared into the crowd to enjoy their night.
Marlo was always generous to them, often at the cost to his own power or money, and J almost regretted how he treated Frost sometimes.
The Joker could have watched his younger self throughout that night, but he already knew what he did the whole night with his smitten heart. He had kept stealing glances at [Y/N]. He sometimes thought she had met his eye too, but she had never left her father’s side that night.
As the Joker he watched [Y/N] in the booth, the lights in the club faded out and he was stood in the cold night air once more.
“What are you doing?!” The Joker snarled at him angrily, because somehow, he knew all these changing scenes were the Riddler’s fault. When the Riddler didn’t answer, the Joker clenched his teeth and looked around, realising with a small shot of alarm, that they were stood the roof of a skyscraper. When he looked back round he suddenly saw Harley Quinn stood in front of him looking battered, beaten and exhausted.
“No, puddin…” She whimpered, “Please…!” Her cheeks were wet with tears and her makeup smeared. She reached out and ended up falling to her knees. J looked down at her in confusion until he heard a hard, cold laugh behind him and spun to see himself - now an exact duplicate of his current self, except maybe ever so slightly younger – pointing a gun at the sobbing psychiatrist.
J knew this memory. This was the night he had finally rid himself of Harley. He had meant to kill her. Seemed the perfect place, could even push her off the edge and make it look like she’d done her usual acrobatics and just fallen – not that he cared if people knew it was him or not.
“You never did get the joke did you, doll?” Asked J cruelly as he pointed the gun at Harley’s bowed head. He removed all but one bullet from the revolver. “Let’s play one last game. That’ll decide the winner.” He purred, clicking the safety off. He aimed the gun again and pressed on the trigger.
Yet the Joker heard nothing. He turned back to see Harley but she wasn’t there. The cold night was gone as well, instead he saw [Y/N], the pain in her eyes so similar to those of Harley only a moment ago. They weren’t on the roof anymore, they were in his office.
The Joker turned around to see himself again, but he was no longer pointing a gun, he was sat at his desk, bored and unbothered about the distraught women before him, his face down and studying a pile of documents instead.
“Goodbye J.” He heard [Y/N] whisper.
This wasn’t his memory. It couldn’t be. J had never heard [Y/N] say it. He’d blocked her out by that point, drowning her voice with the false ones in his head, sick of the truth she was spitting at him, killing his punchline over and over.
Suddenly the scene seemed to rewind.
“I’m going to leave J.” [Y/N] declared, her voice wobbling with emotion. “I know you don’t want me anymore, so I’m doing you the favour and leaving.”
“When have I ever said anything like that, doll?” He demanded with a growl.
“Never.” [Y/N] admitted, “But I can see it in you and everything you do. You think I’m holding you back.” She told him, “And maybe you’re right.”
“Doll…” The Joker protested tiredly.
“Tell me that - f you were single now and you saw me - you would want me. Try to win me.”
The Joker watched himself stupidly hesitate, opening his mouth slightly.
“You wouldn’t, J! You wouldn’t because you’ve changed – you’re not the same man!
“I’m not that boy anymore you mean.” He growled back at her, his eyes dark and dangerous.
“No, I meant what I said!” [Y/N] snapped back at him. “You’ve replaced me with your want for power and I can’t do this anymore. You’re not funny anymore.”
“Life isn’t funny,” J spat back across the desk. “Life is about power over others, doll! Understanding and mastering the corruption that rules everyone’s pathetic lives! There is always someone higher up! Someone at the root of it all! And that is someone I aim to be!” He declared heatedly, banging his fist angrily on the desk.
[Y/N] didn’t flinch at the action, keeping herself steady despite J’s temper. “That right there, is my father talking.” She pointed out angrily. “Now I know you loved him – don’t lie to me J.” She snapped when he went to protest. “But I don’t want you to be him, and I know you don’t want to be him either.”
That was the point J had blocked her voice, letting her rattle on whilst he focused all his thoughts on the job details in front of him, bowing his head and getting to work.
But now. Through this hallucination or dream or whatever it was, her was hearing her words. Hearing her tell him that was her late father’s ideas. That J didn’t want that. That J had never cared about power. He cared about having the last laugh. Cared about the chaos and giving people the truth even if it involved slaughter and torture. Showing people that life was just one big joke. That there was no way you could avoid the punchline.
He was hearing her now. Hearing her tears. Hearing her goodbye.
And then he was watching her leave through the door again, whilst he sat at his desk doing nothing.
Joker watched the door shut on her figure, his jaw clenched tight. “That’s enough.” He growled back to the ghost slightly behind him.
“I am the beginning of the end, as well as the end of time and space. I am essential to creation and I surround every place. What am I?”
“I DON’T CARE!” J spun on him. But he was gone. It was an empty office and the clock to the side of him continued to chime 12.
How could it still be 12 after all of that.
J didn’t know if his drink was spiked or not, but she still poured himself another one and collapsed exhausted into this chair, rubbing tiredly at his pale face as he downed the glass.
21 notes · View notes
thejokersenigma · 7 years ago
Text
Joker Fan Fiction Masterlists
Series
Deadly Voice  (Joker x Reader) [COMPLETE]
Strictly Business (Joker x Reader)
Your Insane (Joker x Reader/OC)
Plan B(ruce) (Joker X Reader x Bruce)
A Christmas Carol (Joker x Reader) [COMPLETE]
Christmas Hatred (Joker x Reader) [COMPLETE]
Frost’s Secret (Joker x Reader (Frost’s Daughter))
Whiskey Courage (Joker x Reader)
Need Me (Joker x Reader) [COMPLETE]
Love at First Sight (Joker[HeathLedger] x Reader)
OneShots
No One Disrespects The Queen (Joker x Reader) (Trigger Warning-Anorexia)
Addiction (Joker x Reader)
Day Off (Joker x Reader)
What you Want (Joker’s Son x Reader (Frost’s Daughter))
Fatherly Advice (Joker x Reader (Joker’s Daughter))
Playing Pool (Joker’s Son x Reader (Frost’s Daughter))
Deadblot. (Joker x Reader)
Two Guys - Oneshot Request (Loki x Reader x Joker)
Daddy (Joker x Reader (Frost’s Daughter))
Our Plan (Joker’s Son x Reader (Frost’s Daughter))
Movie Night (Joker’s Son x Reader (Frost’s Daughter))
Christmas Pup (Joker’s Son x Reader (Frost’s Daughter))
The Blanket Fort (Joker x Reader)
Neighbours (Joker x Reader)
New Contract (Arkham-Joker x Reader)
Heroin (Joker x Reader)
Wrong Hiding Place (Joker x Reader)
Do we Have A Problem? (Joker x Reader)(Trigger Warning-Abuse)
Kiss Bang (Joker x Harley x Reader)
Drabbles
Welcome to Arkham (Joker x Reader)
350 notes · View notes
thejokersenigma · 7 years ago
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Christmas Fan Fiction Advent Calendar 2017 - Day 22 - Joker x Reader - Christmas Hatred Part 3
Ok, so I had no idea what i was going with this part and its quite out of character and pretty damn fluffy - so... sorry..?
Hope you Enjoy anyway!
MASTERLIST
[Y/N] felt like she ought to get the Joker back for suggesting the whole ice skating fiasco, but she couldn’t think of anything clever to suggest – everything she could think of would be painful for him – but it would also be painful for her as she had to do it as well. Why put herself through it?
So, instead, they ended up wandering quietly through the streets, both cringing away at the carol singers crying out the usual cliché tunes, and wincing at the horribly tacky Christmas displays in the large department store windows.
“I know why I don’t like Christmas.” [Y/N] stated. “But why do you hate it?”
The Joker glanced at her with a raised eyebrow and she suddenly remembered who she was talking to – and how stupid a question that was. “Right – yeah – psychotic murderer. I remember.” She muttered, more to herself than to him
The Joker let out a bark of laughter at it none the less and [Y/N] couldn’t help but smirk.
“So why do you hate it then, doll…” The Joker broached, though he kept his gaze ahead of them.
[Y/N] wondered whether she should answer that or just tell him to keep his nose out of her business. She was silent for a while as she thought this through. “It’s a long story.” She eventually said. “A long, complicated story.” She sighed, shaking her head up at the dark cloudy sky.
“Say no more…” The Joker growled lowly, “I get those.” And he didn’t push the subject any further. [Y/N] almost smiled – few people would just let her drop the subject like that – it was nice. Almost like he understood.
“Ok, doll.” The Joker finally said, stopping in the middle of the street, and pulling her to a halt next to him. “How ‘bout we call this quits – unless of course you want to go sit on Santa’s lap or something?”
“I think that would be excruciatingly painful for both of us.” [Y/N] joked.
“Hasn’t this whole evening been, kitten?” He countered.
“I dunno – I thought you looked quite happy out on that ice.” [Y/N] grinned.
“Only because I was too busy laughing at you, doll, to take notice of anything else.”
[Y/N] scowled at the memory. “Thanks.” She muttered.
There was a moment of awkward silence – at least it was awkward for [Y/N]. “Uh – well then –“ She stuck her hand out to him, “Thanks for the clothes and what not - and – I guess – this.” She said gesturing around.
The Joker looked at her hand then at her with his raised eyebrow again. “Oh, doll, if you think you’re getting away that easily, think again…” He growled.
“What?!” I asked, surprised, “But you just said –“
“I said, we should call this,” He copied her gesture to their surroundings, “quits, not this.” He now gestured between them. “You can’t get rid of me that easily, princess.”
[Y/N] was looking at him in bewilderment when a car suddenly pulled up beside them. “This is us, doll.” The Joker grinned from beneath the shadow of his disguise. [Y/N] looked over at the car with wide eyes, and then to the hand the Joker was offering her.  She didn’t move, her mind desperately flashing for any excuse but all it seem to keep coming up with was a cycle of ‘What?!’ and ‘No!’.
“You know, doll, if you don’t come willingly, there are other ways to make you get in the car….” He drawled. He didn’t reach for his gun this time, clearly not thinking he needed to, but [Y/N] remembered it well and that it was hidden in one of his coat pockets.
She didn’t take his hand – keeping her pride – and instead, marched past him to the car on her own. The same man who had driven them earlier this night suddenly appeared at her side, opening the door for her. She could see no other option and only faltered slightly before she slipped into the car. The Joker had strode to the other side and now slid in next to her.
As soon as he was out of sight in the car, the Joker took his hat off and threw it into the back of the car, then shuffled out of the long overcoat. Suddenly [Y/N] found herself face to face with the full Joker again – makeup and all. It was terrifying, and she immediately tensed at his bright green hair, alabaster skin and bright red lips. She had almost been getting use to the criminal that she had been hanging around with for the last few hours, now she felt a fresh wave of fear run over her.
The Joker didn’t seem to notice her sudden change in behaviour – or if he did – he probably put it down to nerves and her lack of cooperation previously.
[Y/N] wasn’t sure how the Joker had even managed to call the car – she had never seen him on a phone. She also wasn’t sure how the driver knew where to go, as the Joker had never given him any directions either. That didn’t seem to faze the driver who carried on through the night and – by the looks of the slow reduction in the number of lights outside her window - out of the town.
Was it going to be like one of those cheesy crime movies where the killer drives the body out of town to bury it? But [Y/N] wasn’t dead. Yet. And the Joker struck her as someone who would have someone bury his bodies for him.
All these ridiculous ideas and counteractions ricochet in [Y/N]’s head as she stared out the window, trying not to look at the Joker too much, or get too close to him. He suddenly felt like a completely different man to the guy she had spent her evening with.
Both of them were silent the entire drive – which seemed far too long and far too short at the same time – [Y/N] didn’t want to be in this car anymore, but she also didn’t want to stop and have to talk to the Joker again.
When the car did finally pull up, the Joker got out immediately, whilst [Y/N] hesitated once more, until the driver opened her door again and a white hand appeared in front of her face. She faltered only for a moment before she took it this time and was pulled out of the car.
They appeared to be out of the city now - on one of the hills that was a backdrop to Gotham and largely covered in wilderness. Why on Earth were they all the way out here?
The Joker had released her hand now, and had begun to walk up a gravelly track which curved out of sight. [Y/N] glanced back at the driver who was now returning to his seat, before she followed after the criminal. She soon realised the track she was walking up was in fact a driveway. It led up to a large, intimidating, but beautiful log cabin. Log cabin didn’t really seem to suffice for this building though as there wasn’t nothing small or primal about it – it looked like a wooden mansion.
“What is this?”  [Y/N] breathed, gazing up at the pristine logs that made up the walls, the wooden door, and windows complete with shutters. The Joker didn’t say anything – whether he was ignoring her or didn’t hear her, she wasn’t sure – instead he walked up the steps to the porch and opened the front door without the need for key.
[Y/N] paused for a moment, could she make a run for it? This had horror story written all over it. Quiet cabin in the middle of woods, no one else in sight. She could run, but she had no idea where she was or where to go. The Joker knew where she lived after all, so that was a no go. He always probably knew these woods far better than she did. And he had a gun. No, maybe she should run.
Instead, she followed him into the house, trying to remember the guy she had spent the evening with – the guy she had almost kind of liked that guy – and not the criminal striding in front of her.
When [Y/N] stepped through the front door that the Joker had left opened, she stepped into a large open plan living space. On her right was a set of large, cushiony sofas arranged around a huge stone fireplace which already had a roaring fire. Beyond that, the floor was raised and let to a table and chairs that sat in front of a wall of floor to ceiling windows that let in the night from outside. [Y/N] could just make out a stone archway next to this area that must lead to a kitchen.
“Wow.” [Y/N] breathed out, no more than a whisper, as she gazed around in awe. She was fighting the urge to run around and explore the amazing house, the large staircase on her left calling her to it. But instead, she turned her attention back towards the criminal who was walking across the room.
The Joker stopped in the centre of the room and turned to where [Y/N] still stood in the doorway.  “You can come in, doll.” He beckoned. [Y/N] shut the door behind her and stepped warily into the room.
“Is this your house then?” She asked cautiously, not able to make eye contact with the man.
“One of them.” He answered and [Y/N] nodded along with this like it was completely normal to have multiple houses and not just a dingy flat like she had.
“Just you?” She asked, intrigued.
He eyed her for a moment. “Most of the time.” She wasn’t sure what to make of that – did he mean he had his henchmen with him sometimes, or did he mean girls? And why did she care?
She was near the centre of the room where he was still waiting, but [Y/N] didn’t look at him – staring into the fire instead, as though the flames were far more interesting.
“You can’t look at me, can you, doll?” He asked, and his voice sounded like he was grinning.
“I can.” [Y/N] protested, though she didn’t take her eyes from the fire – it was easier when she wasn’t looking at him to remember that he was the same guy from earlier.
“Then do.” He growled, and his tone sent a chill of fear through [Y/N]. She turned towards him, her eyes level with his throat.
“See.” She muttered at his Adam’s apple.
His hand suddenly gripped her chin and lifted her gaze up so she was forced to meet his eyes. [Y/N] caught his gaze for a split second before she dropped her eyes down to anywhere but his eyes.
“Doll…” The Joker growled, and [Y/N] felt his fingers tighten on her chin. She reluctantly raised her eyes again, meeting his vibrant blue ones. “Better.” He grinned devilishly.
She couldn’t help but roll her eyes at this and he cackled at her before he suddenly stopped, as though he’d seen something in her eyes.
“You’re scared of me, aren’t you, doll?” He asked, a twinkle in his eyes.
[Y/N] frowned at him. “Of course, I am! Anyone in their right mind would be! I know who you are!”
“Ah, ah, ah, doll.” He tutted, wagging a free finger at her, “I know when people are truly afraid of me – and you haven’t been for most of the evening…” he growled, “But now you are…”
[Y/N] felt herself swallow thickly. The Joker’s voice was low and gravely, but seemed to be almost seductive to her ears. She was tense in his grip, but his eyes still seemed to be turning her to liquid.
“Why am I here?” She suddenly asked.
The Joker seemed to ponder this for a moment. “Well… Doll… I don’t know about you…” He purred looking her piercingly in the eyes, “But I needed a drink after all that ‘Christmas Spirit’.” He said, with a slow grin. He then released her walked over to what she now realised was a fold-away bar behind the sofas.
“Ok…” [Y/N] said, nodding along with this, “But why back here?” She asked with a raised eyebrow.
He turned to her again, “Come on kitten…” He purred, “Did you really want to sit in a heavily festively decorated bar with their cringey music?”
[Y/N] made a face at the idea and the Joker smirked. He handed her a tumbler of an amber alcohol and she took it despite her apprehensions. “Thanks.” She murmured sheepishly, keeping her eyes on the liquid in the glass rather than him as he poured himself one too.
She stood awkwardly in the middle of the room as he walked back towards her, and she twisted from side to side with nerves. He tossed down his drink in one gulp, throwing his head back, then placed the glass on a nearby coffee table. [Y/N] followed suit.
His eyes turned back on her then, where he could now clearly see how wound up she was. “Relax, doll…” He purred, his hands moving towards her. She had to stop herself flinching, but he simply unzipped the coat she still wore, pushing it off her shoulders and then throwing it over the back of the sofa next to them. “That’s better…” He growled, his eyes roaming her up and down and she could feel herself go stiff under his gaze.
His hand moved back towards her then, but this time he reached for her wrist, easily encircling it with his hand. He pulled at her and she had no choice but to follow him as he headed through the house with her in tow, her heart race increasing with each step.
They headed through the dining area to the large windows where he hit a switch on the wall, and the window frames began to fold up one on top of the other, sliding to the left and revealing a veranda in front of them.
He pulled [Y/N] through and took her towards the edge. Her nerves were on high alert now – what was he going to do?!
He pulled her to a stop so they face each other. The wind whipped around them, and she wondered why he’d taken her coat off. He grabbed for her other wrist to stop any attempt at moving away from him. [Y/N] struggled in his grip, beginning to panic.
He growled in annoyance as he wrestled her arms down, his grip like iron cuffs, forcing her to stop. “Kitten…” He snarled through clenched teeth. “Stop fighting me, or you’ll regret it.” [Y/N] believed him and she went limp in his hands, dropping her eyes to her feet in defeat. He was right – she was only going to make it even worse by annoying him.
The Joker made a noise in his throat, and she snapped her eyes back to his. “Better.” He praised, then he did something unexpected, releasing [Y/N] hands and stepping behind her, laying his hands gently, yet firmly, on her upper arms instead.
She felt the muscles under his touch tense. “Now, doll, clearly, you’re not used to the look of me -  but you are used to my voice – so let’s work with that.” He purred in her ear. [Y/N] swallowed against her fear, but he was right - his voice didn’t scare her anymore – if anything it was soothing – it was his appearance that sharply reminded her who he was.
The Joker’s hands began to track up her arm to her neck, lingering there as he leant down and breathed in her scent, making her shiver from more than just the cold. His hands then continued up to her face, over her cheeks until they finally slid over her eyes and remained there.
[Y/N] could feel herself stiffen again. The Joker steered her around, so she now must be facing out over the view from the terrace. “What are you doing?” She asked desperately, her voice shaking.
“Even you, princess, can’t deny there is a certain…beauty… to Christmas lights.” He purred in her ear. “Personally, I don’t like the crowds and noise that come with it…” He growled, and his breath tickled her skin, “So I have this, instead.” He then removed his hands from her eyes and she could suddenly see the view before her.
It was beautiful.
From this distance and height [Y/N] could see nearly the whole of the city of Gotham before her in a stunning panoramic - and all the lights that came with it against the black night.
She could feel her mouth hanging open slightly at the sight and she made no protest when the Joker’s hands dropped to her hips, and then shifted up, his arms encircling her waist and pulling her back against him.
Every fear she had about him seemed to vanish in that perfect moment – like smoke into the night. She was being silly. The Joker had done nothing all night to hurt her, showed no inclination to cause her any harm. In fact, everything he’d done had been surprisingly sweet.
“Maybe Christmas isn’t so bad after all.” [Y/N] murmured, tilting her head to look at the Joker behind her. He gave her a sinful grin and then lowered his head to hers, but it was her that closed the distance between their lips.
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thejokersenigma · 7 years ago
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Christmas Advent Calendar 2017 (Mixed Character)
Day 1 - A Christmas Carol Part 1 (Joker x Reader)
Day 2 - Christmas Memories Part 1 (Harley x Ivy)
Day 3 - Decorating the Batcave (Bat Family)
Day 4 - Strictly Business Part 6 (Joker x Reader)*Part of another series*
Day 5 - Christmas Hatred Part 1 (Joker x Reader)
Day 6 - The Great Christmas Trap Part 1(Batman Rogues)
Day 7 - Opposites Attract Part 6 (Ed Nygma x Reader)*Part of another series*
Day 8 - IMAGINE (Gotham) - Victor Zsasz decorating Frozen-Ed
Day 9 - A Christmas Carol Part 2 (Joker x Reader)
Day 10 - Christmas Scenes at The Sirens’ (Ivy x harley x Selena)
Day 11 - Two Lives Part 1 (Dick Grayson x Reader)
Day 12 - Your Insane Part 4 (Joker x Reader) *part of another series*
Day 13 - Rogue Carolling (Bruce Wayne x Rogues)
Day 14 - Christmas Memories Part 2 (Harley x Ivy)
Day 15 - Perfect Present (Oswald x Zsasz)
Day 16 - Christmas Hatred Part 2 (Joker x Reader)
Day 17 - A Christmas Carol Part 3 (Joker x Reader)
Day 18 - IMAGINE - Hanging Mistletoe - Reader x (whoever you want)
Day 19 - Two Lives Part 2 (Dick Grayson x Reader)
Day 20 - Plan B(ruce) Part 2 (Joker x Reader x Bruce Wayne) *Part of another series*
Day 21 - The Great Christmas Trap Part 2 (Bruce x Rogues)
Day 22 - Christmas Hatred Part 3 (Joker x Reader)
Day 23 - Deadly Voice - Christmas Edition (Joker x Reader)
Day 24 - A Christmas Carol Part 4 (Joker x Reader)
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