#self x joker

[the-muppet-joker]

Narcissism IS a bad thing! Which is why it is considered a disorder!! Narcissism simply stunts you as a person and won’t allow you to become grow. You thinking of yourself as “better” than others does nothing but make you look pretty stupid tbh

The fact that I selfship with the Joker while kinning him does not mean I have Narcissistic Personality Disorder.

[bluerosefox]

Over Tea

A sudden chill sweeps through Gotham, almost like Mr. Freeze had just attacked only thing was the man was currently locked away in Arkham, and was felt by all. And talked by all via word of mouth and on social media as well.

The clouds and smog that covered their dark city shifted and swirled, a rumble beginning deep inside them as the weather turned from smoggy to rain and thunder with no real warning. The strangest thing was the green glow that could be seen when thunder rumbled inside the gray clouds.

Then like a candle being blown out, the rumbling stopped, the rain ended, and the clouds parted all over Gotham.

For the first time in a while Gotham had a clear sky and it felt... it felt like something heavy had been lifted off the city.

It was this sudden shift and the all felt chill that had set off alerts for Batman and his family. Since early morning since the first change and shift happened he was in front of the Batcomputer trying to narrow down where it started.

After hours of searching with the help of Red Robin, Oracle and strangely enough Red Hood, they managed to narrow down where the odd power had been coming from.

Was still coming from, only very low.

The old and abandoned observatory tower.

-x-x-

"More ecto-tea Lady Gotham?" Danny asked, his hand waving towards the steaming pot nearby.

The woman smiled lightly, her dark painted lips curling up to show her sharp fangs for a moment before saying "No but thank you Young Kingling though I would like more cookies if you don't mind. Now where were we?"

Danny nodded towards her and signaled towards a maid skeleton ghost who walked forward with a tray of cookies. The maid swiftly placed a few more cookies on the spirit embodiment of Gotham plate before bowing and stepping away.

"We were just about to discuss the sentience of the Court of Owls." Danny said as he lightly tapped the large almost mountain of paperwork on the table they were sitting at, floating high above the floor as shooting stars and planets drifted around them. Many ghosts floated around as well, servants that had sworn their loyalty to the Young King, and were preparing things like snacks and drinks for two powerful beings in the room as they discussed business. Nearby doors and windows though were ghostly knights that stood tall and alert, making sure no interlopers interrupted the meeting taking place and ready to defend not only Lady Gotham but their King.

"Ah yes them." Lady Gotham grimaced as she took a drink of her ecto-tea. "That will take some time for us to discuss, they've been running around unchecked for to long and even with my limited abilities to hinder them has been less than ideal."

"You, Lady G, were deeply cursed for many, many years and I just broke most of it." Danny cut in quickly, he was not about to let this wonderful and powerful city spirit blame herself for something out of her hands "Due to said curse you couldn't do much so please don't go blaming yourself. Its mostly broken now, so you can freely start healing yourself and your city self now that jerk demon that cursed you is in Walker's prison for his crimes."

Lady Gotham grew silent for a moment, her dark eyes staring deeply at the young King but then warmly smiled, well as warm as she could seeing how she was Gotham itself. "You reminded me of my Knight, Young King, treating me like this. Not afraid to point out the truth and facts."

Danny gave a light laugh as he took a hold of one of the cookies on his plate and gave a bite "I'll take that as a compliment Lady Gotham. Now about those Court of Owls...."

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Caring enough to Kill (part 2)

Part two to this. Jason confronts Bruce and when it doesn't go the way he wants it to Danny is there to pick up the pieces.

tw: Mentions of sex, descriptions of violence, abusive relationships

----

Jason stumbled back into his safehouse, clutching his bleeding throat where Bruce had cut him. He could feel the tears trapped behind the stupid Domino mask and he ripped it off, sobbing as he collapsed to the floor. He had finally done it, he had confronted Bruce, told him it was Joker or Him and Bruce had, Bruce had attacked him! 'Because he took me from you'. So pathetic, Jason had practically begged, and Bruce had nearly slit his throat. So pathetic! to have believed he still even had a father!

He could swear the tears that fell to the floor had a subtle green glow as he wept, he felt helpless, worthless, purposeless! He could feel the Pits churning inside him, burning in his veins with grief and rage that might turn him into a monster for good. He would let it, maybe escaping all this human misery would mean he didn't care so much about someone caring enough to avenge him. Maybe he would finally just be able to kill Joker himself.

A floorboard creaked and he looked up sharply. Danny, sliding through the window after him. He gave Jason a look of sympathy and concern as he approached slowly, his back hunched and his knees bent, making himself as small as he could as he kept closer.

"One of your people saw you running and called me. Jason, what happened?" Danny asked softly, reaching out to touch Jason's face.

Jason couldn't stand, couldn't stand the care, couldn't stand a gentle touch that wasn't from his father. He grabbed Danny's wrist and twisted it, startling a scream out of Danny who so rarely cried out in pain. He shouldn't have, he didn't want to, but he was not in his right mind when he threw Danny to the floor. Danny who did not fight as Jason lashed out at him Again, channeling too much rage and misery into the person who probably deserved it least, but who always let him.

He was barely aware of what he was doing as he hit and kicked, though he knew that for once Danny was actually shielding his head, curled up on the floor. The rage broke suddenly, and all that was left was the sadness and the growing dizziness and nausea of blood loss. He backed away from Danny where he was curled on the floor and slumped into an armchair.

After a drawn out moment of stillness Danny uncurled from where he was laying on the floor, he spat out a tooth and some blood as he pushed himself up to his hands and knees. Jason noticed that he had a black eye that wasn't healing as quickly as usual, had Jason broken something? Still when Danny looked up at him it was with concern not fear.

This time when he approached it was fully on his hands and knees, creeping over to Jason again, who this time stayed still and let him, Danny knelt between Jason's legs and cupped his jaw, Jason tilted his head back and to the side, bearing his neck to Danny so he could get a good look at the injury.

Danny grimaced sympathetically and kissed the corner of Jason's mouth before flitting away to the bathroom, he came back moments later with the well stocked first aid kit and knelt by Jason again. Jason stayed still, allowing Danny to gently clean the wound, stitching it up, besides the small place where it had ruptured his windpipe so the fluids would have somewhere to go besides down Jason's throat. By the time he finished and had bandaged the wound the black eye had healed as well and besides the blood on Danny's face there was no sign of what Jason had done.

There was no sign of it in Danny's behaviour either, as he curled up on Jason's lap, leaning against his chest and wrapping his arms loosely around his shoulders. There was no fear in Danny's posture, no anger. How could he love so unconditionally? Especially someone like Jason, who so clearly didn't deserve it. They stayed there until Jason fell asleep, exhaustion winning out over everything else.

Jason woke up in bed, and confused, how had Danny gotten him here without waking him?! He must have been more tired then he realized. Danny was there too, on his side next to Jason with an arm around his waist. As soon as he felt Jason stir he sat up and reached over to the bedside table where there was a bottle of water, unopened, which he offered to Jason.

He took it and drank deeply, finishing about half before he offered it back to Danny who took a few gulps as well before putting it down and laying back down with his head propped on Jason's shoulder. "I've never seen you that angry," He murmured against Jason's skin who winced, remembering just what he'd done yesterday. Danny had showered, and cleaned Jason up as best he could so there weren't really any signs of it but still...

"I'm sorry," He murmured and felt Danny shake his head.

"It's okay. I'm not upset, just worried. What happened Jason?" He asked softly.

Jason felt tears burning the back of his eyes again and he huffed, biting his lip for a moment, but Danny deserved to know. "It was my father again. I finally asked him outright why he hadn't avenged me, I basically begged him to, even let Me kill him and witness it. And you know what he did? He slit my throat to stop me, he chose the Joker over me." Jason gave a bitter little laugh, and was genuinely startled by the snarl Danny let out, he'd never heard him make a noise like that, but it continued, a deep, inhuman growl that didn't pause even when Danny spoke, creating a dark undercurrent to his voice.

"Who is your father," He asked, and Jason felt a chill run down his spine.

"Batman, but don't confront him Danny. I don't really have a father anymore. He can't change, I'd rather focus on the things I can change."

"Like the Joker's status as living?" Danny said dryly, but the growling did ease off.

Jason winced and sighed before he looked to the side. "As much as I know the world would be better off without him, something is holding me back from doing it. I do a lot of avenging people, killing rapists and traffickers and shit. Is it so bad to want to Be avenged for once?"

"No, it's not," Danny said softly. "Does it have to be Batman, or would someone else who loves you doing it be enough?" 'Would I be enough' goes unsaid.

"Yes, that would be enough."

----------

Jason's throat healed, months passed and Danny didn't mention the conversation they'd had about the Joker. Jason threw himself into work, gaining control of more of the drug trade to make sure his rules were followed. He set up safe injection sites and rehabs. He killed corrupt police, politicians, traffickers and anyone who harmed children, cleaning out his turf in the most permanent way he could, making it safe for the kids, the working girls, and everyone else who called it home without being a Complete piece of shit.

Danny kept him from completely losing himself, dragging him away from work for date nights, meals and to get some sleep. Occasionally Jason got angry, occasionally he lashed out, but Danny never held onto those times. Danny didn't only pull him away from work though, since they'd gotten together he started participating even more in Jason's work. He was no longer just a 'goon'.

He designed himself a costume, with a pattern different shades of brown and red, a muzzle covering the lower half of his face and a colour. The first time Jason had seen Danny in the tight leather... let's just say Danny hadn't kept it on for very long, Jason Really liked the collar. Danny called himself Hyena, like it was a joke Jason didn't fully understand. He was Jason's second in command and he gave orders when Red Hood wasn't around since he knew what Red Hood would want. It was almost like being able to be two places at once and Jason was incredibly grateful to Danny for it.

The Joker still being out there was the only thing that kept nagging at Jason, and as they got closer and closer to the anniversary of his death the worse it got. He thought he might have been imagining it but he though Danny was pulling away a bit too. He was busy more often then usual and distant in a way that made Jason worry he was keeping secrets, though he had no idea WHAT they might be since his life genuinely did seem to revolve around Red Hood and his mission.

When the day of his death came Danny was nowhere to be seen and Jason shut himself up on his office to focus on work, reading reports and writing responses. Doing whatever he could to try not to think about what had happened this day five years ago, and how Joker was either not thinking about it at all, or celebrating.

He had explicitly said for no one but Fox to disturb him today so when there was a pounding at a door he was ready to Fucking Kill someone! Danny never knocked like that, usually he just let himself in, so he knew that wasn't Danny. He got up from his desk so abruptly he knocked his chair over and stomped over to yank the door open.

"Please don't shoot! Hyena is in trouble!" The goon at the door, Marcus he though, cowered. Marcus got along with Danny, they might even friends, he would know.

"What happened?" Jason snarled through the voice modulator on his helmet, but he wasn't about to bite Marcus' head off anymore.

"He left your turf in costume this morning, I tried to tell him not to but he didn't listen to me! We've got reports he's on his way back but the Bats are on his tail! You have a tracker on him don't you?! He's gonna need help!" Marcus said in a panic and Jason grabbed his coat and his phone.

"Ya I do I'm not going to let them touch him," Jason snarled checking his guns before he practically bolted out of the building wondering what the Hell Danny had gotten himself into.

He grabbed his grapple and headed to meet Hyena as quickly as he could. He knew Danny was fast but Bruce and the Replacement would catch him eventually if none of the others were already on their way to intercept.

He heard Hyena before he saw them, the high cackling of the manic laughter Danny tended to lean into when he was in his Hyena persona, then Jason saw him, he planted his feet on a rooftop just inside crime ally and drew his guns. He saw the moment Danny spotted him and slightly adjusted his flight so he landed on the same roof as Jason, rolling to absorb his momentum and skidded to a stop half hiding behind Jason as he grinned at the Bats who had also come to a stop on the roof across from them with the muzzles of Jason's guns trained on them.

"Sorry about this, I knew what I was doing but I don't know the placement of the cameras all over Gotham, I didn't know they saw me," Danny said, resting his hands on Jason's shoulders.

"What did you do Hyena?" Jason asked without looking away from Batman and Robin.

Danny cackled again, the Hyena laugh that made him shiver just a little. He ducked out from behind Jason and got halfway between the two groups in the stand off. He pulled the bag Jason hadn't noticed off his shoulder and reached inside. Jason could tell Danny was smiling at him from behind the muzzle as he grabbed something and pulled out... The joker's head, Jason's breathing caught in his throat.

"Happy death day baby," Danny said fondly, his voice loud enough that Batman and Robin would be able to hear as well. "Someone cares about you enough to avenge you."

It was brutal, and final, it was a decoration of love as surely as anything else and so much better then a dozen roses. Jason thought he would be horrified, fixated on the head, but the Joker was just a lump of flesh now, a horrified expression fixated on his face as if he hadn't actually expected anyone to kill him. Nothing to be scared of anymore.

"Holy shit," Jason laughed and turned to Danny, scooping him up making Danny yelp in surprise and drop the bag, the Jokers head rolling away as Jason twirled a laughing Danny. "I love you so much Cub! This is the best gift anyone's ever gotten me!" He cheered and Danny blushed all the way to his slightly pointed ears, clearly pleased.

It was the first time Jason had said he loved him and Danny felt like he had won the lottery! He couldn't control his purring as Jason put him back down, he snuggled into Jason's side as he aimed his gun and put a bullet in Joker's decapitated head just for the catharsis of it.

"Jaylad," Bruce's voice was soft and betrayed. As if he had any fucking right!

Reminded of his presence Jason's gaze snapped back to Bruce, as did his guns, pointed at Batman and Robin again. "If you're planning to arrest Hyena for this I will not hesitate to shoot. If you take one step inside My territory," Jason snarled at them. "You can take the head if you want, I don't need to keep a lump of rotting flesh, I just needed to know Someone gave a shit." He stepped forward and kicked the head like a football, sending it hurtling at Batman with pretty damn good aim as Danny cackled behind him, high and loud.

Batman caught it, more on instinct then anything, but it was evidence, it was a body, he would take it, and the corpse from wherever Danny had left it. "Now if you'll excuse us, I think we have a celebration to plan!" Jason said before he shot at them, he wasn't aiming to kill, just to make them leave and it worked. They dashed off and Jason turned back towards Danny.

"I love you too," Danny said, soft and warm, pressing himself against Jason's chest. "Now take me home and Fuck me~"

Jason laughed and scooped Danny up into his arms, letting him wrap his arms back around Jason and cling as he set a quick pace towards their nearest safe house.

Part 2.5

Part 3

Masterpost

[starry-bi-sky]

Thinking about the CFAU and marveling at how much Danny and Jason care for one another. Does anybody else figure out that Danny is going to kill the Joker, or is that knowledge Jason exclusive? I can't see Danny being close enough to any other Batfam member to disclose his plans, but I wonder if he drops hints. They're a family of paranoid detectives. I'd be surprised if they don't figure out Danny has a PURPOSE for being in Gotham at some point. Whether Danny's able to disguise it as wanting to be closer to Jason or not is another burning question.

Its def Red Hood exclusive! You're right in that Danny isn't close enough to disclose his revenge plot to any of the batfam members -- hell, not even Sam and Tucker know his true motives for returning to Gotham, and they're his best friends right after Jason! And Red Hood knows only because Danny accidentally slipped up ;].

I do also think that the Waynes kinda think something might be up with Danny -- at least Dick and/or Bruce might since they're the only ones who actually know him beyond brief mentions of him. Tim knows about him due to his stalking, but doesn't really know him -- and Danny plans to keep a healthy, friendly distance from the family so he can carry out his plans.

It's not that he holds any dislike towards them -- quite the opposite. He appreciates what they do for Gotham and recognizes the hard work that goes into keeping their Rogues Gallery at bay (even if he is bitter about Joker, but there's an obvious reason for that) -- but, well. He knows they're the vigilantes, he doesn't want to risk them sniffing out his murder plot before he can even go through with it.

Luckily for him he can excuse any distance he puts between them as just being busy with life and trying to settle in, and they're not close enough to him anymore to find it suspicious. I do think they figure out he's back in Gotham for a reason, Danny's not going to exactly hide the fact that he's back to find some kind of closure -- but what that closure is?

I think the only person who might suspect something sinister going on would be Bruce, who saw the sinking rage in Danny's eyes at the funeral -- it was part of the reason he didn't tell him who killed Jason (beyond secret identity reasons). But that depends on whether or not Danny reveals some of his hand, and the fact that he was still holding onto that rage (somewhat unwillingly) all this time.

[heretherebedork]

Joke's either sacrificing himself or using himself and Jack's shock each time. He's so shaken when he sees Joke's own efforts and lack of self-worth and I don't think Jack understands what he's seeing but Joke does.

(Jack thinks of himself as the one who is always sacrificing to save the people around him and so he doesn't see Joke carving himself into pieces to help him.)

[hyperfixatinator]

I have a DP x DC AU brainworm about Danny and Tim being long lost siblings (twins or otherwise).

Because both of them have faced evil future versions of themselves who've almost ended the world in some way through altering time. If Clockwork had been watching Danny's world-ending timelines, then who's to say he wouldn't keep tabs on Tim's as well?

Imagine that the brothers had to be temporarily separated at a young age to ensure a peaceful future. Danny had to be in Amity Park to gain his ghost powers and become the new Ghost King. Meanwhile, Tim had to stay in Gothem to become the new Robin, something he'd have been less likely to do if Danny stayed in his life.

However, their separation was only supposed to be temporary. What if both Dan and Future Tim were from futures where they never reunited as teens? Heck, what if both of them were from the SAME future?

The Nasty Burger explosion happened, Danny killed Vlad and absorbed his soul, and became Dan. Dan grew too powerful for the GIW to handle anymore, so the government tried reaching out to the Justice League. But oops! Future Tim already killed off and tore down that whole organization, meaning the world no longer had it's protectors to stop this new foe.

Though they were strangers, the future brothers unwittingly collaborated in sealing the world's fate.

Back to the present, the Observants wanted Clockwork to get rid of Danny and also Tim before that timeline came to pass. What they didn't understand was Clockwork's plan.

See, the Infinite Realms needed a new monarch to replace Pariah Dark, but not just anyone would do. In timelines outside of Dan's future, the U.S government would've started a war with the Infinite Realms anyway. One that would guarantee Earth's destruction and offset the balance of other realms near it.

The war is set to start in Amity Park, but the information blackout is preventing it's citizens from getting outside help. Mid-to-late teen Danny can't bring down the Anti Ecto Acts alone. He'd be struggling to keep the Realms beings from invading his home as it is. And the government's iron grip on the city makes it nearly impossible for news to get out to the masses.

Danny being the brother of a vigilante detective across the country is another story.

Batman's mentorship would give Tim the training needed to eventually track down his lost sibling. And through Red Robin's connections to the Justice League, Danny could get help overturning the Anti Ecto Acts while he keeps declarations of war at bay on his end. Danny and Tim's combined efforts could be what's keeping the world at peace instead of ending it.

Long story short: Clockwork kills two birds with one stone by uniting a pair of long lost brothers through the prevention of an interdimensional war.

[sleepyyywriter]

Just You Is Enough For Me

A/N: I’d like to point out that my recollection of the movie is vague because I have only watched it once, but I needed a fix it fic asap. This one is for me but if you enjoy, yay! (Also, might’ve altered or moved events around but, you know. Fiction. Also, also! I did ridiculous research on pleas and whatnot and again, because this is fiction, I used what I liked and ignored the rest.)

Word Count: 8k

Genre: Fluff, fix-it fic

Heads up, this is not the fic for you if you liked Lee's character. Sorry.

Finally, thanks to @soulsdontbreaktheybeeend for listening to me spiral about Arthur and for giving me the space to come up with this idea. Love youuuu! 💜

The pencil in her hand snapped in half as she gazed up at Arthur, her eyes wide and the terror clear as day in them. The biggest mistake he could make at this point was firing them as counsel.

“My client needs a break, your hon-“

Before she even knew what she was doing, she had grabbed at Arthur’s suit and yanked him down, her eyes boring into his and effectively halting his protests.

She wasn’t sure what she was trying to tell him with her eyes, she couldn’t actually say anything aloud, even if she could get her mouth to open, but Y/N needed him to understand what she knew in her heart.

They were his only shot at not rotting at Arkham for the rest of his life. They were his only shot at getting the help he so desperately needed. That he deserved and had been denied his whole existence. She knew that, why didn’t he?

The voices around her sounded so distant as they looked into each other’s eyes, hers pleading and his avoidant.

No. Not avoidant. He was looking for her, no doubt. All he did was look for her, the one responsible for this shitshow. The one who was in it for the fame and publicity that came with being the joker’s girlfriend, or whatever the fuck she was.

Y/N knew about her, who didn’t? And she hated her. She told herself it was because of the harm she was causing Arthur’s case. And because it was so obvious she didn’t actually care for him. Not all of him anyway. But if she were to be honest with herself… Well. There was no time for that right not.

Right now, they had to figure out if there was a way to salvage any of this.

As they made their way to the room they were provided with by the court, Y/N could tell Maryanne was pissed. They had been dealing with the repercussions of everything Lee said and did in front of the media, and Arthur’s outburst could very well be the straw that broke the camel’s back. Hell, she wouldn’t be surprised if Maryanne herself asked to be dropped as counsel.  

As the bailiff shackled Arthur to the table at the center of the room, Y/N intercepted Maryanne at the door, involuntarily cringing at the glare sent her way.

“Let me talk to him first?”

“This is not the place for your stupid cru-“

Y/N yelped and shut the door, hoping Arthur hadn’t heard that from the other side.

“This has nothing to do with that!” she interrupted, lightly shouldering Maryanne away from the door and towards the bench outside of the room. “You need to calm down. If you go in there, guns blazing, he is going to shut down and we won’t be able to convince him to stay.”

“You think we can? You think you can?” she sneered, her lips pursing in anger as she massaged her temple with her fingers.

Y/N smiled tightly and made her way back into the room, “I’m gonna fucking try.”

-----------------------------

She didn’t know how long she had been standing there, arms across her chest as she leaned into the closed door, her eyes on the squirming, hunched over figure in front of her.

A part of her was trying to find the words, nice ones at least, to try to talk some sense into Arthur. Another part of herself, the pettier side, was enjoying how uncomfortable Arthur seemed.

Good. She hoped he knew he had fucked up. She especially hoped he knew how he had hurt her feelings.

She was very aware the crush was one sided, judging by the dopey smile he got on his stupidly handsome face every time Lee was brought up. And that was okay. Really! Her main concern was getting Arthur the help he needed, not any silly schoolgirl fantasies her exhausted brain would concoct right before she passed out on her bed.

Y/N had accompanied Maryanne from day one as she worked Arthur’s case, and she thought they had formed a friendship. Maryanne of course cared for him and wanted to help; she was more centered, maybe even more professional? And that why she was so damn good at her job.

Y/N was the younger associate. She could afford to be swayed by emotions. She could afford the reassuring smiles and the daily jokes and teasing banter. She was the good cop to the clients. And more so with Arthur. She could still remember how skittish he was at the beginning. How accustomed he was to people hurting him or making fun of him, that he didn’t talk to them at all for the first three days.

It wasn’t until Y/N told a joke, a very bad one she profusely apologized for, that he finally acknowledged them. She remembered how her heart ached at the sight of his scabbing eyebrow and his busted lip. How a smile made its way to her lips at the sight of his smile, so child-like and innocent and a perfect match for the twinkling seas of juniper leaves in his eyes.

It was with that memory in her head and those emotions in her heart that she finally moved. She pulled the chair next to him and sat, her elbow on the table as she rested her face on her palm.

“What the fuck, Arthur?” she sighed, her eyes searching his.

Laughter burst from his lips, but she recognized this one. It wasn’t that breathy huff before a genuine smile painted his lips. This was the laughter he couldn’t contain. The one that hurt him and wouldn’t let him get enough oxygen into his lungs. This was the laughter that left him hunched over in pain, gasping for air and afraid.

Y/N pursed her lips, mentally kicking herself for triggering him like this, and placed her hand on his back as she hummed Durante’s Smile, hoping it was as comforting for him as it was for her.

He was always singing something, nothing she ever knew of course. He had once wrinkled his nose in the most adorable way when she had played some of her music for him, her AC/DC and Bon Jovi “too loud” for him. She had laughed and they had both agreed that music could be important to both of them without necessarily meaning the same type of music.

Still, this one was one of the few “oldies” she had in her repertoire, and she hoped it was offering him some comfort.

As his chest stopped heaving and his laughter had been reduced to sporadic bursts that didn’t leave him as breathless, he began to speak.

“Lee is trying to free me. She is helping me, Y/N.”

“Arthur,” she began, her eyes shutting as she tried to keep her distaste for Lee from her face.

“We’re going to build a mountain! We’re going to be happy! And you just want me locked up. She said-”

Her hands balled into fist over his suit, and she had to make a conscious effort to pull away and not pull at his clothes.

“She said what, Arthur?” she asked, her voice tight with poorly disguised anger.

“That you- you don’t want to help. That- that you’re like them. You underestimate me and you think I’m dumb, and you don’t care about me. And-”

She raised her hand to silence him, using the other to push away from the table and get herself to her feet, needing space from him.

“I’m here, jeopardizing my job to beg you to please let us help you. Every day I go home from the office, I have to make sure nobody is following to scream at me, throw rotten shit at me or hit me because I am defending you. Which has happened by the way. And every day, every fucking day Arthur, I go back into that office and stay there until the break of fucking dawn trying to find a way to help you. And you’re telling me I don’t care? Because the one who is actively sabotaging your defense told you so?”

Maryanne came back inside at that, surprise on her face at the tone Y/N had taken which usually only she used when she needed to strongarm stubborn clients.

“You know what? I actually don’t fucking care whether you fire Maryanne or not. I quit regardless.”

Y/N ignored Maryanne’s calls and she certainly didn’t look back at Arthur as she stormed out of the room, with what felt like her whole heart stuck in her throat as she blinked the tears away.

She knew it wasn’t fair to talk to Arthur like that and much less to up and abandon him. Even if that was what he was asking for. She had proved to him once more that everyone left him when he needed them the most, but his words had cut her too deep.

She had poured her heart into doing everything in her power to help. She had called witnesses, she had read over files numerous times, fighting through the tears as she read about every despicable thing Arthur had lived through.

When what she read began plaguing her dreams, she would get back up and continue her work at home, hoping to find the smoking gun that would get the world to see he wasn’t a cold-blooded killer. He was a product of his fucked-up upbringing and the disregard society had for the poor and ill. Arthur needed help, proper help he was not going to receive where he was currently locked up at and so every day she worked. How could he say she didn’t care? How could he believe her? Y/N was in his corner first. Which was a stupid sentiment. Childish even. She still couldn’t stop feeling it.

-------------------------------

Y/N couldn’t remember how she had gotten home. She must’ve taken the right buses because there she was, keys in her hand and her back to her door as she blinked into her dark apartment.

With a sigh, broken and drawn out, she took off her shoes and chucked her briefcase and purse somewhere into the living room. She’d look for them in the morning but now, she was a woman on a mission as she stalked toward her kitchen, two things on her mind. Vodka and ice cream.

As she carried her bowl and the entire bottle into the living room, the phone rang. She groaned and looked down at her occupied hands. There was clearly only one thing to do. Y/N poured a hefty amount of vodka into her ice cream and set the bottle aside as she grabbed the phone and carefully held it between her ear and shoulder.

“What the hell happened to ‘I’m gonna fucking try’?” the voice on the other end laughed.

“I will hang up on you if you’re calling to scream at me. Or make fun of me. I’m off the clock, you can do it tomorrow and pay me for it,” she grumbled, shoveling a spoonful of her special ice-cream into her mouth.

“You’ve been ballsy today,” Maryanne snorted and Y/N rolled her eyes at the sound.

“Can I help you or…?”

“He’s not firing us.”

“Good! Best of luck to y-”

“-on one condition. He wants you back on the case.”

Y/N scoffed, wincing as the too big spoonful of ice cream momentarily froze her brain. “And you told him to fuck off?”

“I most certainly did not. I said we would go up to see him tomorrow bright and early because you have a good head on your shoulders and a lengthy career ahead of you and you’re not going to let a stupid crush keep you from working this case, winning it, and watching your career take off.”

Y/N glared into her bowl, her eyes following the puddle forming around the lump of speckled white, both from the vodka she had added and the heat from her hands that was melting the rest.

“He’s a person. Why can’t we just help him because he deserves it? Not because of what that can do for us?”

Maryanne sighed and her tone softened, “We’re doing that too, Y/N.”

They spent a couple of minutes on the line going over ideas on how to salvage the shitshow that was today before they both agreed to meet at Arkham bright early tomorrow morning.

Y/N had an idea. She thought it would gain sympathy from the jury and get rid of Lee. That would break Arthur, but it would help their case. Even if it meant he hated her for it.

-----------------------------------

Y/N refused to look at him. It was “Mr. Fleck” this and that and even Maryanne couldn’t contain her laugh.

Still, the backstabbing bitch found a way to leave them alone for a bit, something about speaking to the warden about something. Oh, Y/N could’ve killed her.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I-”

Okay, maybe shoving an unlit cigarette in his mouth was childish, but if it kept him from speaking to her, who was actually winning?

Absentmindedly, she lit the cigarette with the lighter she always seemed to carry now. Even though she didn’t smoke. This definitely did not coincide with meeting Arthur.

Arthur sighed and took out the cigarette, putting it out on the ashtray as best he could with shackled hands before trying to apologize once more. “Y/N I-”

“You hurt me. What you said was mean and hurtful. And-” Y/N faltered as she tried swallowing down the knot in her throat. “I know she is, you know. But you know me. You know I care. And you still doubted me.”

Their eyes met and her breath caught in her chest. His eyes had the tendency to change according to his surroundings. The room they were in was poorly lit, but the pale hues of his jumpsuit still found a way to reflect on his eyes. They were favoring the ocean today, the one that used to be in her backyard during her childhood. The ocean that lulled her to sleep and brought her safety and comfort. His ocean was currently twinkling with unshed tears, and she hated being responsible for that.

Maryanne barreled into the office in that moment, not paying attention to them as she slammed a file on to the table.

“She has been lying to you and using you to get back at her rich daddy. And it’s about time you knew.”

Y/N turned to Maryanne, her eyes wide in shock. This was news to her and certainly not the plan of attack they had come up with last night. The plan was to get Arthur to denounce the Joker as a figure meant to incite riots and violence. Y/N figured that the minute that Arthur separated himself from the madness and violence done in his name by people who didn’t know or care about him, Lee would leave. Since she was just in it for the exposure. For Joker, not Arthur.

Arthur was meant to bring attention to who he was. A hardworking, devoted son who woke up day after day and went to work and sought out help and wanted to get better. He just needed a little bit of help to get back on his feet and the death penalty was not the way to go. That was the fucking plan. Not this!

“Maryanne?”

“Y/N? Did you know?”

At this, Y/N found herself at his side, his shackled hand in hers as she gazed into his eyes. “No, Arthur. I did not. Please believe me this time.”

Arthur nodded and Y/N dropped his hand, sending Maryanne a glare before she picked up the file and read on.

She could feel the warmth of Arthur’s body as he leaned into her to read the file as well.

Arthur had told her that Lee had set fire to her mother’s home. She had painted quite a story for him, and Arthur believed her.

Instead, she was a rich girl who hadn’t struggled a day in her life. What’s more, she had voluntarily committed herself for some crazy reason, and had then convinced Arthur it was his fault she was being sent away. The only truth she had ever told him was her name. “That bitch!”

Arthur stiffened beside her, and Y/N gritted an apology through her teeth. That was still his girlfriend at the end of the day.

“I want to talk to her.”

Y/N and Maryanne looked at each other; they both knew that was a bad idea. She would find a way to twist the facts and he would believe her. She would be free to continue wreaking havoc and inching him closer to the death penalty.

Arthur was trusting and more than anything, he just wanted to be loved. To be seen. That was the key to manipulating him. She could do it too. While she knew he didn’t feel the same way for her, she was aware that she become a friend to him and she could use that to get him to do what she wanted him to do. What she needed him to do for his own good.

Just thinking about it made her feel wretched and she knew she couldn’t do that. Especially after she had just begged him to trust her seconds ago. No. She had to do better. He deserved that much.

“Arthur,” she began, turning to him and taking his hands into hers once more, “can you give me a few moments of your attention? No interruptions. No questions. Just listen to me for a minute. And then I promise to listen to you. Can you do that?”

His head tilted to the side as his eyes bore into hers, trying to figure her out. Everyone always brought up his upbringing, his poverty, his low IQ. As if that made him less. As if life hadn’t seen all of that and still deemed it necessary to teach him lessons in the hardest, most despicable ways possible. Arthur had the uncanny ability to see through people’s intentions. He knew when he was the butt of the joke. But he wanted to be loved and so he put up with the taunts and the abuse because a part of himself thought it was a small price to pay to be loved. What a silly, hauntingly beautiful man. God, when had this become more than a crush?

With a nod and a squeeze to her hands, Arthur broke her from her reverie. And so she talked.

She explained how it would be a good idea to hold off on talking to her. How, it was great that they loved each other (that was a lie but he didn’t need to know that) but the public didn’t care for that. How, as much as we shouldn’t care what the world has to say about us, in this instance, public opinion literally held his life in their hands. Finally, she explained how she would not be able to live with herself if they were unable to win his case, if the same society that failed him again and again won in the end and took his life. Y/N begged him to please let her help him in the best way she knew how. She reassured him how Lee and he could go back to being a happy couple as soon as this was over and nobody would be able to tell him otherwise. What she didn’t say, however, was how she didn’t think Lee would stick around when the news outlets and camera flashes stopped following her every move. He could hate her for the rest of his life so long as he was off death row and living the life he always deserved. She could live with that.

“I know it’s not what you want. You deserve to talk to her and ask her to clear this up. I’m asking for the impossible from you, Arthur. But I need you to help me help you. Yes?”

His face was contorted in agony and despair, the lines around his eyes deepening as he furrowed his brows and a part of herself broke knowing she was once again the cause for his pain.

She didn’t speak and neither did Maryanne; they both knew the ball was now on Arthur’s side of the court and whatever he decided would dictate the course of his case.

“How much longer will this go on for?”

----------------------------------

They left with a tentative agreement from Arthur. He wasn’t willing to cut off contact with Lee for too long and so now they had the difficult task of trying to end this trial quickly, and in their favor.

“I have a feeling he would hate this. But… what if we file a written motion for a change of venue?”

“That would push the trial date back, Y/N.”

“Yes, but you know the riots and general unrest in the city are not doing him any favors. Any jury picked from Gotham is going to convict him no matter how good our case is. And-” Y/N trailed off, collapsing into the sofa in Maryanne’s office.

“-and it creates more distance between Arthur and Lee if we move it?” Maryanne finished knowingly, handing her over her own glass of whiskey.

Y/N grumbled a plea for her to be quiet and took a generous gulp of her drink, scowling at Maryanne’s laughter.

“You know, Dent is not going to agree to that.”

At this, Y/N smirked and straightened in her seat, “oh! Did I forget to tell you how he got Sophie Dumond to testify in court?”

“Did you find something?”

“No. But I can.” She begun, shushing Maryanne before she could even get a word in. “Do not ask questions you don’t want the answer to.”

Maryanne nodded and with that, Y/N left her office and made her way to her own, to draft up the motion and call up one of her old contacts.

Fabricated evidence would never hold its own in court, but the threat of said fabricated evidence tarnishing Harvey Dent’s stellar reputation? Well. That would work. Y/N meant it when she said she would do everything in her power to give Arthur a fair shot at the life he always deserved. And he would never know the lengths she’d go to. Because she didn’t need him in her debt. Y/N just wanted him to have his happily ever after. With whoever and wherever.

-------------------

Lee had not taken the forced separation from Arthur well. It had been a week since they had filed the motion and had gotten it approved. Once news outlets caught wind of it no longer taking place in the city and noting Lee’s absence from the hearing, and general cluelessness about everything that was going on, they had lost their interest in her. She was no longer page one worthy news and judging by the number of times she stopped by the office, shouting and shoving at the security guards, she was not handling it well.

Which is why it was no surprise to her when she received a call from Arkham’s high security wing from a contact, letting her know Lee was currently in a visit with Arthur, despite explicit instructions to the warden to not allow her in.

She was in the area and so she quickly flagged down a cab, cursing up a storm and throwing the driver a few extra bills to entice him to break any laws necessary to get her there as soon as possible.

Once there, she knew exactly who had allowed Lee in, if the terrified expression on his face was anything to go by.

“Sullivan, I swear to God I will sue you and every single one of your fucking descendants if you don’t open this goddamn door.” She seethed, satisfaction filling her as he jumped off of his stool, his fingers clumsily clicking and clacking in his rush.

With a final glare, she stalked into the visiting area as soon as the gate was unlocked. She paused momentarily and gave a final warning over her shoulder, locking eyes with the only one who needed to hear it. “And if you take this out on Arthur, I will know. Remind me, what was your lovely granddaughter’s name again? She’s a second grader now, isn’t she?”

She watched him gulp and nod before she gave him a smile dripping with every ounce of distaste she had for him and continuing her trek.

Instantly, she caught sight of Lee’s back. She also saw Arthur. His lips pursed even if his eyes shouted the love and adoration he felt for her. Her heart melted at the knowledge that he was trying to keep his word and not talk to Lee. Even if she was right in front him and there was likely nothing he wanted more.

“What are you standing there for?” She barked at the guard in the corner.  “Get her out of here. She is not an approved visitor, and you know that.”

Arthur’s eyes flew to her face the minute he heard her voice; his eyes wide and pleading, almost as if begging her to believe he had nothing to do with the woman currently in front of him.

Y/N barely had the chance to reassure him before Lee’s hand connected with her face, a sharp smack ringing into the silence of the visitation area.

Her jaw tightened as she brought her hand up to her cheek, her eyes hardening as she wiped away the blood drawn by the ring Lee was wearing.

The silence was cut by Arthur’s shout of Lee’s name and Y/N felt the proverbial butterflies in her stomach at the sight of Arthur’s angry expression directed towards Lee. His eyes, stormy and narrowed as a scowl marred his usually smiling lips; Y/N was ridiculously in love.

“Don’t you get it?!” Lee shouted, struggling against the guards who were dragging her out, “She is trying to keep us apart because the little bitch wants you all to herself!”

Y/N watched as she was finally out of the visitation area, smirking in satisfaction as she hissed after stupidly banging at the iron door keeping her out.

A part of her wanted to stay that way, her back to Arthur as she willed the universe to open up and swallow her whole. She likely would’ve stayed there long after visiting hours were over had she not heard the soft call of her name. Like a moth to a flame, like a sailor falling prey to the siren’s song, Y/N turned and closed the gap between them. As much as she could with the glass in between them, at least.

“Is it true?” Y/N didn’t know if he was asking about whether she was trying to keep them apart on purpose or even worse, about the crush, but answering neither would be of no help.

“I told you from the beginning, everything I do is for your own good. Not because you can’t make decisions on your own, but because I know how things work in these cases and I want to use that knowledge to help you. The power is in your hands, Arthur. You can choose to let me go whenever you like.”

And he could. He could choose to hire someone else. Or worse even, to represent himself. But she didn’t mean it that way and she prayed he hadn’t caught her slip up. Even if it would be good if he did.

Maybe then he could release her from the hold he had on her, a hold he likely didn’t even know about. Maybe then he could stop doing things that were confusing her. Like smiling at her like she was the only person in the world. Or murmuring her name, soft and intimate, like it was made from fragile glass. Maybe then she could get her head out of her ass and behave like the professional she was before she met him. Before she fell for him.

Oh, but sweet, shy, lovely Arthur didn’t catch it. For someone who was as in love with the idea of love as he was, he was quite blind to people who actually cared for him and loved him for him. She hated and loved that about him.

He nodded, his face softening with a smile that lit up her whole world and she cursed him and loved him a little more for it.

--------------------------------

These had been the most agonizing weeks of her life, and she couldn’t even begin to imagine how Arthur had been feeling. Alas, the day was finally here. Today would decide Arthur’s fate.

These last few weeks had been tedious, and Y/N had learned just how high her threshold for hate could go. More than once, she was ready to bash Dent’s head with a chair, that’s how despicable she found him. She didn’t understand how he had built a reputation of a respectable, protector of justice, when he was quite frankly a piece of shit.

Y/N had convinced Maryanne not only to change the venue, but also to move it to a more affluent area. Y/N knew there was nothing rich people loved more than pretending they cared about the little people and with the evidence they had to support Arthur’s not guilty by insanity plea, she knew the rich people who would encompass the jury would be on their side. They would be able to boast about their good deed and feel better about being filthy rich while the rest of the city died.

They wouldn’t be making the wrong call. They had more than sufficient evidence to support their claim, and anybody with half a braincell would agree that Arthur needed help in the form of rehabilitation, not incarceration.

Why then, was it that this pillar of justice was so adamant to lock Arthur up and throw away the key? Almost like he was also just after what convicting Arthur would do for his career. God, Y/N could kill him.

Arthur was a bundle of nerves beside her. She was a tad concerned that he would dislocate a knee with how he was bouncing it. She couldn’t look at him, afraid that he would see how nervous she was as well and that that would set him off, so she simply placed her hand on his knee and squeezed reassuringly.

She heard him inhale to say something, but the jury walked in, the bailiff and judge right after. Her insides origami’d themselves into a gnawing creature as she helped Arthur to his feet and stood as close to him as professionally acceptable.

As the foreman affixed his reading glasses atop his nose and cleared his throat to begin reading the verdict, Y/N sent one last prayer above. This had to go in Arthur’s favor, or she didn’t know how she would live with herself.

“We, the Jury, having carefully considered all the evidence presented in this case, find the defendant, Arthur Fleck, not guilty by reason of insanity.”

Everything else was drowned out in the rush of blood inundating her head and she found herself with an armful of Arthur, his face cradled in the crook of her neck as he cried. She was counting on Maryanne to listen to the rest of the verdict as she clung to Arthur and whispered reassurances in his ear.  

------------------------------

“So what now?” Arthur asked, looking so fragile and small as he sat in the corner of the interview room they had been sent to as they made preparations for his transfer. The minute he had been uncuffed and had been able to decide himself where to go, he had picked that corner to retreat to.

Y/N’s heart broke at the realization that this had been the first time in years he had been able to make a decision as simple as this and she had found herself sitting next to him, his hand in hers as she traced soothing patterns on the back of it.

“Maryanne is drafting a document asking the court to take into account the time you have already served. If we are lucky, you’ll only be required the three-month rule in a state institution, and then your life begins. Well, kind of. You’ll be required therapy for the rest of your life, but that is a good thing. I will ensure that whoever sees you now actually cares and helps. I promise,” she finished with a squeeze to his hand, a smile on her face as he breathed out a soft laugh.

“Will you visit?” he murmured after some time, not quite turning to look at her but she could feel his eyes gazing at her from under his eyelashes, as if afraid of her answer.

“As many times as you want me to,” Y/N reassured, slightly distraught at how vehemently she meant that. Fuck, she was stupid in love with a man who saw her as nothing more than a friend.

“Every day,” he beamed. His eyes finally meeting hers and she marveled at the weight that had clearly lifted from his shoulders. His bejeweled emerald eyes shined brightly in the dimly lit room and for a split second, she forgot how to breathe. She didn’t think breathing was as important as not missing a second of the awe-inspiring sight in front of her. The way his chestnut locks framed his face, or the way his thick lashes dusted the thin, purplish skin of his eyelids. He was beautiful and how she wished to be the one to gaze upon him every day. Sadly…

“Have you talked to Lee?”

Her smile tightened and she cleared her throat, hoping to swallow down the distaste. “I called her myself after the verdict but got her answering machine. As soon as she calls back, I will let you know.”

“I think she’s mad. I hope she doesn’t hate me,” he mused sadly, his shoulders slumping forward.

“You did what you had to do for your wellbeing. She loves you, I’m sure she’ll understand,” Y/N consoled, nudging him with her shoulder. “Besides, you can blame me if you want. That way she can’t be mad at you.”

His eyes searched her face until they settled on the new scar on her face, courtesy of Lee. From the corner of her eyes, she saw his free hand nearing her face, but right before he could make contact, she jumped up. Y/N didn’t know if she could come back from knowing what his hands felt like on her face.

“There is another thing we must discuss, Arthur,” she began, hoping she was successfully playing off how flustered being so close to him made her. “Medication. I know you don’t like the way you feel but taking it will likely be a requirement.”

He slumped over once more, an adorable pout taking over his lips and Y/N cursed the heavens for the feelings lighting up sparks within her.

They discussed the topic a bit more, and Y/N died a little when he admitted he was not aware he was allowed to ask to be switched to other medications until they found a good fit for him. He assumed the lifeless, zombie-state was the norm and Y/N’s heart broke a little more for him. He deserved the world and she wanted to be the one to give it him.

Maryanne came in then, a grin on her face as she sat on a chair, beckoning for the other two to do the same.

Y/N obliged and offered Arthur her hand to help him up, then guided him to a chair and took one next to him. He looked at her then, questioning, but all she could do was shrug as she did not know what Maryanne’s grin was about.

Their questioning looks soon turned to astonishment as Maryanne explained how the judge, who happened to regularly play golf with her husband, had agreed that the time Arthur had served should be taken into account. What’s more, he believed one of the ways society could atone for its sins against Arthur was to waive the three month rule and set Arthur free, to the care of a guardian who would assume responsibility for him. He would still be required to attend counseling for the rest of his life, and follow any guidelines his medical team recommended, but that was of course next to nothing compared to being institutionalized.

Y/N’s mouth hung open; she could almost feel her jaw unhinge as she tried to comprehend the feat Maryanne had just accomplished.

“I- I don’t have anywhere to go.”

Her heart, bruised and battered, broke a little more at the sound of his broken whisper and she turned to him, words of comfort on her lips before Maryanne cut her off.

“Sure you do. Y/N is the court-appointed guardian the judge, Dent and I agreed on.” Maryanne said this nonchalantly, but Y/N could hear the smugness on her voice. “By the way Y/N, verify your address with accounting. Due to your new circumstances, we’ll have to ship a PC to your home. I’m thinking you can do three days at home and two in the office? Or as necessary. We’ll figure that out later. For now, we have accommodations to make.”

She then sashayed out of the room, and had it not been for Arthur’s hand on her shoulder, Y/N would’ve sat there frozen for God know how long.

“Is- is that okay? You can say no, Y/N. I don’t want to trouble you.” He said this with a smile, and she knew that even if she refused to house him and this meant he would lose his freedom and go back to being incarcerated, he would truly not hold that against her. God, he was so good. How could anyone ever think about hurting him? When he deserved nothing short of the world?

“And why would I do that, roomie?”

The grin he gave her was like the sun peaking from the horizon on a freezing December morning. Nothing could’ve ever topped it, except for the tight hug he gave her.

-------------------------------------

It had been a couple of months since Arthur had moved in. The first few days were… a learning experience. She tried to accustom herself to having another person living under her roof, a person she had feelings for but could not act on. And Arthur was trying to remember how to be free again. As free as he could be considering the restrictions he had on him.

Y/N’s heart broke every time he forgot where he was and would wait around for the door to be unlocked and opened for him. As he waited for permission he no longer needed to accomplish mundane tasks, Y/N would approach him carefully and softly, as if afraid to shock him, and she’d remind him that he could move as he pleased. She’d remind him that he was home now (God, how she hoped he felt like he was home) and was in charge of his actions.

Without fail, wonder filled his eyes, and he looked around the room, as if taking it in and reminding himself where he was before settling on her face. And then, then he’d steal her breath as he smiled at her, soft and sweet. Oh, how she loved him.

Lee had seemingly disappeared from the face of the earth. As much as she didn’t want to, for Arthur, she had called in favors to try and find her.  To no avail.

Last she heard, her parents had shipped her overseas to distance her from everything she had said and done in front of the cameras, but that was the last they had been able to find about her.

Arthur was of course heartbroken, but he claimed he was at least happy knowing she was safe. It didn’t matter that she no longer loved him and didn’t want to see him.

For her part, Y/N swore that if she ever saw her, she’d rip her face off and keep it as a trophy.

Today was one of the rare days off they had. Arthur had no session today and she had finished her work for the week. After breakfast, she had asked him what he wanted to do for the day and, without missing a beat, he had suggested a walk around the city.

The area Y/N lived in was on the other side from where Arthur grew up. It was decidedly nicer, cleaner and nobody seemed to know or care who Arthur was. Arthur loved going on walks whenever they both had the time, and without fail, he would steal yet another piece of her heart as he marveled at the most mundane things they encountered on their walks.

She recalled the giggle that escaped his lips the first time they had come across a flock of ducks in the park and Y/N could do nothing more but slip into a bodega to purchase frozen peas so Arthur could feed the ducks. Nothing could put a price on the delight lighting up his face.

And so, the plan was the same today. As they walked out of the familiar bodega, hand in hand and frozen peas secured, Y/N marveled at how good of a life she had.

As they made their way to the park, they stopped every few houses and marveled at the Halloween decorations adorning the streets. It was mid-October, her favorite time of the year, and she loved the way the city looked.

As they approached an empty park bench, she turned to Arthur, wanting to point out the ducks to him only to find him already looking at her.

That had been a recent development and she wished she could ask him to stop. She, of course, couldn’t do that. Not without explaining that her heart threatened to leap out of her chest and into his hands whenever he looked at her like that. Not without confessing her feelings to him, which would be incredibly unfair.

He didn’t feel that way and she had no right to take away the only safe place he had ever had. Arthur deserved a good life, he deserved to experience everything that had been denied from him his whole life and she couldn’t rob him of that by telling him about her silly little feelings.

What was she supposed to do when he told her he didn’t feel the same? Even worse was the thought of him feeling pressured to reciprocate out of fear his new world would be yanked from his feet. No. She would never tell him. But God, how she prayed he would stop looking at her like that. How she wished to dig into her chest and rip out her heart, to lock it in a box and shove it somewhere it could never come back from. How she wished not to feel. Just for a bit.

They sat at the park for what was certainly hours. He talked about his sessions and how they had finally settled on a medication that did not make him feel dead. It made him a bit sleepy, he said. But he could think, feel, and eat.

That she could attest to. He often asked for seconds during meals and just last week, when she was coming out of her room for a mid-day break from work, she had encountered a shirtless Arthur coming out of the restroom after a shower. Recovering from the shock, she turned back to her room with a squeak but not before allowing her eyes to roam his shirtless frame. She had noticed how his ribs were no longer protruding, and there was a softness cushioning his belly that was not there before when she had helped him dress for his trial, which seemed like eons ago now.

In turn, she talked about work without going into many details. Confidentiality and all. And she asked about the at-home nurse that would come in whenever Y/N had to go into the office. Arthur had no complaints and he confessed she almost felt like a mother, a proper one. Y/N grabbed his gloved hand and squeezed, a surprised squeak leaving her lips when he pressed his forehead against hers. If her breath hadn’t abandoned her, and her limbs obeyed her, she likely would’ve pushed him away. Instead, she shut her eyes and allowed the tremors to wash down her back and could do nothing but nod dumbly when he suggested they head back.

--------------------------------

 The walk back had been quiet. She thought she had done well at not making it awkward despite the silence from her part.

A talk would likely need to happen. If she wanted to hold on to the last bits of her sanity, boundaries would have to be set. Maybe she’d take up Sam’s weekly invitations to go out for drinks after work. Maybe that was what she needed to get over Arthur. Or to at least not go into cardiac arrest over physical contact.

He unlocked the door for them, likely realizing her dazed state and gently guided her inside and on to the couch.

Arthur left her eyesight for a bit, and she figured he had gone into his room. Even as she heard clattering in the kitchen, she didn’t turn to look, too lost in her thoughts.

It wasn’t until he reappeared in front of her, a steaming mug of hot cocoa in hand, topped with whipped cream and marshmallows like he knew she liked, that she broke through her dazed state.

“I thought you were cold, so I made this for you,” he began as he set it on the coffee table in front of her. He then reached around and grabbed the blanket draped over the couch and fluffed it before wrapping it around her. “I shouldn’t have made you stay outside this late. I forgot how cold it gets.”

Like a petulant child, she pulled the blanket over her head with a groan, wanting to lovingly punch his stupid face for making her feel feelings. This was too much for her.

Arthur laughed out a ‘what’s wrong?’ as he attempted to free her from her self-made blanket prison, soft giggles leaving him the more she fought against him.

Knowing she wasn’t going to win this battle, she broke free, furrowing her brows as she looked at the giggling man beside her.

Arthur snorted and reached over to smooth down her hair, his eyes twinkling with amusement, his cheeks flushed and lips curled in a smile.

“Arthur,” she began, grabbing his hands and placing them on his lap before folding hers in front of her chest, as if that was going to protect her heart.

“You know I care for you. And I will always be here for you. But-”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I shouldn’t have…” he trailed off. He remained silent for a few seconds before giving himself a reassuring nod. His eyes met Y/N’s briefly before he turned to focus on the long-forgotten mug. “Dr. Sloane recommended I tell you how I feel but- I’m not good with words, Y/N. I hoped my actions could, I don’t know,” he trailed off with a half-hearted shrug.

Y/N, on the other hand, was fighting through the static ringing in her ears as she tried making sense of Arthur’s words.

“How you feel?”

“I’m sorry Y/N. You’re probably just being nice. I knew you didn’t feel the same. But Dr. Sloane said I should try and-”

“Arthur!” she called to him firmly, her hands finding his as she tried to keep him from going down the spiral he currently was. “You have feelings for me?”

Arthur nodded shyly, his eyes on their intertwined hands as he rubbed the tips of his index finger and thumb together, a nervous habit he had picked up now that he was trying to quit smoking.

“You like me? But, Lee?”

“I don’t know if she was real. If what I thought she felt or what I felt for her was real. But you,” at this he smiled, so blindingly bright that for a moment she wondered how he had captured the moonlight in his smile.

“And you haven’t noticed I’ve liked you since day one?” she interrupted him, fighting a smile as his hands stiffened in hers.

Arthur’s head snapped up as his eyes searched hers, trying to decipher whether she was lying or not. She let him look, making sure to let her face and eyes shout about the love for him she had been trying to bottle up for what felt like an eternity.

“How- Y/N, how long?” he whispered, his eyes wide and pleading.

“Since I set foot in that room, shitty joke in my notebook. Since you laughed, so soft and shy and then told me one of yours.”

He made a choking sound and before she could worry about hearing him choke on that laughter that rarely made an appearance now but he still feared, he had closed the distance between them by pulling her into him.

She squeaked and surprised, allowed him to wrap his arms around her. He felt so warm. So safe. So right.

“We’re going to have to talk about this Arthur!” she laughed, succumbing to the kisses being peppered on her face.

“I’m serious, Arthur. We’re going to talk.” Y/N valiantly tried once more, sighing at yet another peck to her nose. Her forehead. And the corner of her lips. God, this man was a fuckin’ tease.

He groaned before cupping her cheeks with his palms, warm and calloused. “We will, later. But can I please kiss you now?”

It was Y/N’s turn to silence him, her lips finding his and her eyes fluttering shut. She didn’t know how the fireworks going off in her stomach had travelled to just behind her eyelids, but as Arthur pressed his lips to hers, urgently yet sweetly, she found she didn’t really care.

In that moment, nothing mattered. Not the road they had travelled to get here. Not where the road would take them tomorrow. All that mattered to her now was how his lips, chapped and warm moved against hers. How his hands felt, one on her back, branding her with his fingertips through her clothes. The other on her cheek, his thumb ghosting over her skin, staking claim to what had long belonged to him.

Nothing mattered but him. Always him. Forever him.

[j0kers-light]

Hey <3 What would Joker think about a reader who speaks lots of languages? Does he speak multiple as well? Would he learn some together with the reader? Or does he not really pay attention to that? Have a lovely day~

Hey hi my love!! 🖤✨

It’s a beautiful day actually and my brain is running a mile a minute to answer this. As someone who is trilingual, (and working on learning more) I find it tricky to answer this ask from Joker’s perspective. 

Because on one hand learning a new language is both daunting and fun; anyone can do it! However it does have a tendency to pinpoint origin and define you as a person. 

Joker knowing a different language (in my opinion) is too risky given his strict, “I have an untraceable past” reputation. If he starts speaking a different language, it can be traced back to his past.

So no. I don’t think Joker would bother learning a different language. He speaks English and sarcasm. Now if it were for the betterment of his Light? He might?

Joker believes that pain translates the same across all languages, so why bother trying to understand what a person is saying as they plead for mercy?

He doesn’t have the need to pick up a new language so English it is!

That all changes when he meets his Bunny who is a foreign speaker. And ohh boy, he wasn’t prepared.

Your accent, the speed in which you talk.. Joker finds it downright sexy! Everything you say has a bit of a kick to it.

He doesn’t know a word you’re saying most of the time and you use that to your advantage when you’re upset with him. 

You stop talking in English and rant in your mother tongue leaving Joker standing there like 👁️🫦👁️

Joker is a certified simp. We know this. He instantly bricks up hearing you speak, especially if you say something during sex that he can’t translate. Horn-Y to the point of no return. 🥵

He is in awe how you speak multiple different tongues in the same conversation, simply because you can. 

One minute you are cracking a joke in English, you pause to listen to someone speak (insert language) and then you reply in a third; effectively blowing J’s mind.

You are constantly translating in your head and thinking of the correct consonants and vowels to use while still engaging in conversation.

It takes a sharp mind and loads of patience that Joker greatly admires. How you do it? He’ll never understand but it’s definitely hot.

Joker finds out that you know to sign and can read Braille too by accident; what are you? A walking Rosetta Stone? At this point what language do you not know?

Imagine his disbelief when he discovers you can sing certain songs in several more languages…

Joker dubs you his Google translate and if he needs assistance, best believe he’s asking for your help. 

You turn to glare at your boyfriend in disdain. He really dragged you out of bed for this. “I don’t know Mandarin, Joker.” You say for the fourth time.

Your response isn’t what J was expecting and his wide grin slowly falls from his face. Tense seconds pass as he hides his disappointment. “Bunny… you know a loT of languages..”

“Yes, but not..” You pinch your nose with a sigh. You are not an automated translator that J assumes you to be. You don't know every language! (that would be so cool btw)

The best course of action is letting Joker's hopes and dreams down softly. “It’s a rather hard and complicated dialect to learn, J.”

“And that mumbo jumbo you sang the other day wasn’t hard?!”

You drew a blank at him cutting you off. “J, what are you talking about?”

“Uhh you sa~ng in the car jusT fine, what's stopping ya now?” He grumbled. It took you a minute to remember what he's talking about and even then, you're still confused.

“Joker. That was Hebrew. Completely different language. Omg, are you really that racist?” You ask.

The poor guy that Joker abducted will just have to wait until you and J finish arguing to confess that he's fluent in English. He's too invested in this discussion to interrupt.

So that was a self insert head canon anon sorry not sorry. 🤣🤣🤣🥴 To clear the air. 

I can speak English, Greek, and Spanish. Although I can read and comprehend Spanish better than speaking it. 😭

I began learning French and Russian when I was in school but dropped it for personal reasons. Oh! I totally forgot that my boss was teaching me Vietnamese for two years back in the day lol.

I can sing certain songs in Hebrew, Danish, Latin, Spanish, French, and Japanese. I also poorly translated a few chapters of a book in German out of desperation until the official release was published in English. 🙃 I'm a menace.

[montimer]

Drawin my favs to make myself feel better

[the-muppet-joker]

I wonder if I will ever find another lover...

Not that Kermit and Joker do not satisfy me, heh.

[jasonsknight3]

The story is in progress and the first chapter will be out soon. However, I had a writing spell today and had a little idea. A small story.

⚠️Warning ⚠️ : Drugs, club setting, a little something, and language.

Not my problem

Jason x reader

You were already home for the day just waiting for Jason to come back from his book shop job. However, he sent you a text saying he was going to be at Roy’s for a while tonight. You didn’t mind, you both loved each other to no end but sometimes you guys like to have time to yourself. Not because you were tired of each other but every once in a while like me time. For a while you watched some movies, and ate some dinner. That's when you had an idea, you’d make some food for and take it over to them. The dinner you made was just delicious sub sandwiches with grapes and chips. A simple but balanced meal. After wrapping the paper plates with the food on them, and grabbing your keys you head to Roy’s.

The drive was a good 20 minutes. The plan was just to drop off the subs, ring the bell and leave. After arriving at Roy's apartment and making way up the stairs. you hear their voices carrying from the open window. Which wouldn’t have bothered you except for your name being mentioned. Pausing, you listen intently. Jason sounded oddly calm and Roy just hummed in response every once in a while.

Jason: “I love her to death but please, if you have a problem you can't just complain. You have to make a change. Take a chance.”

Roy: “hm, yea.”

Jason: “Like the other day she was complaining about how she has no girl friends and can’t just go out and get one because she’s scared. Like, you just have to go for it.”

Roy: “Well, she really is a homebody Jaybird. It is harder for her.”

Jason: “I know, sometimes I just wished she’d just put herself out there you know? Be a little braver.”

That hurt. You only heard a few bits and pieces but it definitely didn’t feel good. Does he really feel bothered by that? Why would he tell Roy and not you? Does he wish you were different? After contemplating and the heartbreaking moment you set down the food. If he wants me more out there…fine. I’ll be out there. You thought. Going home a plan formed. Dressing up and making yourself look good you leave for the club.

Jason P.O.V

Sighing, I continued on “I know, sometimes I just wished she’d put herself out there you know? Be a little braver. She’s amazing and I really think if she could get past the fear she would get out there and make friends. Maybe she’d even see that she can make friends and people would love her like I do.” Roy nodded yea, she’s a great gal. Maybe if you go with her she’ll feel more comfortable and eventually do it herself.” Leaning forward I. The seat I nod in agreement. “Yea, probably.” Getting up I said my goodbyes and headed out. Just as I stepped out the door I heard a squelching sound and nearly slipped on something. Looking down I see a now ruined sub sandwich. “Hey Harper, you hungry?” Roy made her way over to see the destroyed sandwich. “Nah, I’m good. At least it was wrapped though. No mayo on the shoes.” He commented. “It was probably (y/n) that dropped this off. You know how she is.”

After cleaning the mess and saying a second goodbye I officially got on my bike and went home. Opening the door to our shared apartment I called for her. “(Y/N)! I’m home!” Silence. “(Y/N)?” I began looking around the house. She's not in the living room or the kitchen. When I get it to the bedroom I notice a few things. Closet is open, make up out, jewelry out, clear indecisive choice of earrings sense so many pairs were out still. Her silver shoes were gone, purse gone. She went somewhere. But where? I got a weird feeling in my chest. This is…wrong. I contemplated for a moment about checking her tracking device in her phone. The one I put in. “No, it’s not wrong, you are just making sure she’s okay.” I assured myself. Pulling out my phone I looked at her location. “A club? The iceberg lounge no less. By herself?! Hell no!” Throwing onto a brown leather jacket and snatching my motorcycle keys I sped off trying to swallow down the anger and panic. I probably should have been pulled over for speeding. If I was caught.

The lounge was full of acting, loud music, loud voices, lewd dancing among other things in that same realm, drugs and everything else I’d expect. My eyes scan the room for her and then there she was…I would have been doodling if she wasn’t talking to some other guy and or if I wasn’t a little pancaked and angry. Taking a quick breath I approached (y/n) “Enjoying your night?” I asked with a bit of a jealous edge among other things. She looked at me up and down before turning away and returning to her conversation. Did she just- I stepped in front of the guy blocking her view and leaning down to her level. “I don’t know who the fuck you think you are princess, but what you not going to do is ignore me.” I said sharply. The guy behind me spoke up. “Hey pal, the lady was having a conversation with me.” Slowly I turn around to face this mediocre looking rich blonde. “Get lost pal, before you start choking on the teeth I’m about to knock out if you don’t get lost.” He put his hands up and backed off. Turning my attention back to (y/n) her arms were crossed angrily. “So, care to explain yourself?” She frowned, pointing a finger at me, very obviously angry. . “Just doing what you wanted Jason. Not your problem. Go cry about it.” She turned on her silver heels and began to walk away. “Wrong answer.” I said snagging her wrist and pulling her through the crowd, her feet fumbling a little on the way. She definitely was drunk.

Getting to a quiet corner trapping her between myself and the wall I leaned in close. “You better start giving me good answers or else I’m gonna start making assumptions, princess.” Her face reddened a little more than it already was. “I heard what you said. You wished I’d stop complaining about not having friends and should just put myself out there. That’s what I’m doing.” She slurred out. It all suddenly made sense. “Well did you eavesdrop on the rest of the conversation?” She folded her arms over her chest. “No. Didn’t need to. I heard what I needed to. I heard how you felt.” The feeling of panic, annoyance dissipated. “Babydoll, if you would have stayed you would have also heard I said you're amazing and I really think if you could get past the fear you could get out there and make friends. Maybe you’d even see that you can make friends and people would love you like I do.” I explained. “Well I-“ I put my finger to her lips. “Shhhh. No more. We can continue this later. Let’s get you home.” She shook her head, making her earring shake. “No, I’m having fun.” I wasn’t taking no for an answer. “Know you, this isn’t your kind of place for fun love. I’m taking you home.” I retorted, throwing her over my shoulder. “How many drinks did you have anyway?” She didn’t struggle in my grasp. “I just had a Shirley temple.” I pause, she only had one…”did you talk to anyone else besides that guy?” She answered “No.” That made my blood boil. That man will be lucky if he doesn’t get a bullet in the head tonight for trying that on anyone no less than his woman. However, (y/n) was the priority right now. She didn’t fight me at all. I knew deep down even in her drugged state she wanted to go home.

After getting her inside I got her ready for bed to help her take off the dress, no bra, a pleasant surprise, but I dressed her in a tank top and shorts with her “help”. Which was only really raising her arms and trying to stand up. Helpful but not entirely. Using makeup wipes I cleaned her face, brushed her teeth and finally laid her in bed. “Jason.” She sniffled. “What is it baby?” I cooed. “I’m…I’m sorry, I was just- really mad. I thought you weren’t happy with who I was.” Pushing back her hair I smile. “I know, just know. I would never change anything about you.” I say gently. “I love you.”

Not gonna lie, this art for this story is extremely self indulgent. Extremely. Lights and no lights. Jason just like 🤨 “what are you on about?”

[starletem]

Should I write a Q from Impractical Jokers fic, or should I keep it to my delusions…a never-ending battle.

[thesexydancingcrepe]

KnifeRabbit

(Peter White x Oc) ✨️🗡 ❤️ 🐇✨️

I had fun designing my Oc's outfits.

Long story short Her name is Caroline & she's an assassin/retired soldier hired to be Alice's Shadow to protect her out of sight. Caroline & Alice are pretty good friends (it helps that Alice thinks she's just a bodyguard).

When Peter kidnaps Alice at the beginning of the story, Caroline jumps in after them & accidentally becomes part of the world's narrative with Alice. Like in the normal story, everyone loves Alice, but Caroline is only interested in Peter, but like Alice doesn't remember Peter as her Sunday afternoon, Peter doesn’t remember Caroline's presence either.

(Because Caroline has stealth Maxed out)

Caroline's "role" is basically the main character's best friend/confidant, while pining after her friends most devoted but not very likely love interest. She would never make a move on Peter since it is extremely clear he loves Alice & she respects that but even if there was a shot she wouldn't go for it because she feels like she is unlovable & anyone she ever tries to care about will leave her eventually. Unfortunately for Caroline, she has been proven right up until the current present. Everyone gets to be a part of something except for her, meant to always just be a shadow in the room but never the focus. When Alice gets her love interest in the story & and starts pulling away to the point Caroline is treated more like an afterthought, completely forgotten again & left behind by another person.

Caroline decides to completely move on, She steals a kiss one last time before leaving to erase herself from the narrative. She doesn't feel great about it, but at least she has a sweet memory before she disappears.

✨️🗡 ❤️ 🐇✨️

Maybe after a while, Caroline & Peter's story could begin, but is it even possible with Peter's eyes always on Alice, a heart that beats only for her to grow to love someone else? Can someone's heart make room for another & move on? Can Caroline even fathom a world where she could be loved, vulnerable, or even thought of?

✨️🗡 ❤️ 🐇✨️

There might be too much pain here for either of them, but maybe they can make each other stronger & not only love again but for both of them to finally receive love in return.

✨️🗡 ❤️ 🐇✨️

[noirgl0w]

Twisted Chords — The visuals

Being a failed rockstar in the midst of Gotham didn't give you many chances to carve out a space in a society dominated by pop. That's why you were condemned to spend night after night playing at the corner bar, with a recurring audience of three people. Your mistake was not knowing who owned that place, and even worse, not knowing whom you were at odds with.

[knoepfl]

Beyond the Mask

Characters:

- Arthur Fleck / Joker: A man struggling with his identity, grappling with mental illness and societal rejection.

- Reader: A supportive friend who believes in Arthur's potential for change and seeks to defend him against societal judgment.

- Harvey Dent: The prosecutor, trying to establish Arthur as a dangerous criminal.

-Judge: The authoritative figure presiding over the courtroom, tasked with making a fair judgment.

Trigger Warnings:

- Mental illness

- Stalking- Criminal behavior

- Courtroom drama

- Themes of societal neglect and injustice

Masterlist

Word Count: 2559

This was a request from @pedroschka. I am very happy to have been given this honor of writing this^^ I truly enjoyed it and I hope you enjoy it too!

The courtroom was a stark contrast to the vibrant chaos Arthur Fleck had come to embody. He sat at the defendant's table, his Joker attire making him an imposing figure, yet inside, he felt a mixture of anxiety and defiance. He had fired his lawyer, determined to speak for himself, but the weight of the accusations hung heavily in the air.

As Harvey Dent rose from his seat, the courtroom fell silent. “I call the witness, [Your Name], to the stand,” he said, his voice cutting through the tension. You walked up, heart racing but determined. This was your chance to speak for Arthur, the man behind the mask.

Taking your place at the stand, you felt all eyes on you. Harvey leaned in, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. “So, [Your Name], you were friends with Arthur Fleck, correct? You’re aware of his… obsession with you?”

You straightened, meeting his gaze with resolve. “Yes, I was friends with Arthur. And yes, he struggled with his feelings. But that doesn’t define who he is.”

Dent raised an eyebrow, feigning disbelief. “Isn’t it true that his fixation on you led to stalking? Wouldn’t you say that makes him dangerous?”

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself against the gravity of the accusation. “He didn’t intend to hurt me. He was lost, confused, trying to make sense of his feelings. It wasn’t about malice—it was about desperation.”

Arthur shifted slightly, the bravado of the Joker flickering as he listened to your words. You could see the internal struggle within him, the mask of confidence beginning to crack.

“Do you feel safe around him?” Dent pressed, hoping to elicit a more damning response.

“I felt safe with Arthur,” you replied, your voice firm. “He was always kind to me. He just… needed help. The world turned him into someone who felt he had to be something else to be seen.”

As you spoke, Arthur’s expression softened, the mask of the Joker slipping further away. You continued, “He’s not just the Joker. He’s Arthur Fleck, a man who has been tormented by his circumstances. He deserves compassion, not condemnation.”

The judge’s interest piqued, eyebrows raising at your passionate defense. Dent faltered, momentarily caught off guard by your perspective.

“So you believe he’s a victim of his own mind?”“Yes,” you said, nodding. “He’s been pushed into a corner, and it’s a tragedy. He’s not just a criminal; he’s a product of a society that failed him. We all deserve a second chance.”

“Do you think he’s capable of change?” Dent pressed again, trying to catch you off guard.

“Absolutely,” you insisted, looking straight at Arthur. “He’s trying to navigate this world, and the only thing he needs is understanding. Everyone makes mistakes, and Arthur’s mistakes don’t define him. They’re just a part of his journey.”

The judge leaned forward, intrigued by your testimony. Arthur’s eyes shimmered with something unspoken, a flicker of hope that perhaps he could be understood.

As you finished your statement, Arthur’s gaze locked onto yours, and you could see the gratitude reflected in his eyes. For the first time in what felt like forever, he felt seen—not as the Joker, but as the man he once was, the man you remembered. His cocky demeanor faded away, revealing the softer side that had been buried under layers of pain and anger.

You could feel the courtroom’s attention shift. Whispers began to spread as people witnessed the transformation. Arthur, no longer the theatrical figure he had played, was just a man grappling with the repercussions of his actions.

“Your Honor,” Dent said, regaining his composure, “are we to believe that Arthur Fleck is merely a victim of circumstance? That he has no responsibility for his actions?”

You took a moment before responding, your heart racing as you faced the judge. “Everyone has a choice, Mr. Dent. But it’s important to understand the context behind those choices. Arthur was driven to madness by the very society he lived in. He didn’t wake up one day and decide to become the Joker; he became the Joker because the world told him he was nothing else.”

The judge leaned forward, intrigued by your testimony. Arthur’s eyes shimmered with something unspoken, a flicker of hope that perhaps he could be understood.

As you left the stand, you caught Arthur’s gaze once more. There was a spark of recognition in his eyes—a flicker of hope that maybe he could still be more than what the world had defined him to be.

“Thank you,” he mouthed, a small smile breaking through the facade of the Joker. In that moment, you both knew that despite the storm ahead, you would face it together, with the understanding that there was always a choice.

Then, unexpectedly, Arthur leaned forward, his voice a mix of bravado and vulnerability. “What do you really think of me, [Your Name]? Am I just a monster in clown makeup to you?” He attempted to keep his Joker persona alive, but there was an earnestness in his question that cut through the theatrics.

You paused, searching his eyes. “Arthur, you know I see you. Not the Joker, but you—Arthur Fleck. The man I once knew.”

He scoffed lightly, trying to mask the hurt behind his playful demeanor. “Oh come on, we both know I’m not worth saving. I mean, look at me!” He gestured to his costume, a mockery of the figure he had become.

“Arthur,” you said softly, drawing his attention. “You’re worth more than all of this. You’re not just what you’ve done. You have a choice to be better, to be you.”

“Really? You think I can be someone different?” he asked, his façade cracking further. “Someone who’s not just a punchline?”

“I believe that, yes. You’re more than your pain. You’re more than the Joker.” You stepped closer to the defendant’s table, your voice steady and sincere. “You once showed me kindness, compassion—the man I care about is still there, buried deep beneath the laughter and chaos.”

His brow furrowed, confusion flickering across his features. “But what about the stalking? The obsession? How can you still care after everything?”

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his past hovering between you. “Because I know you were lost. You were searching for something, someone, to understand you.

I know what it feels like to be invisible. I was never afraid of you; I was afraid for you.”Arthur’s eyes widened, a mix of surprise and vulnerability washing over him. “You really think I can change?” he repeated, almost as if he needed to hear it again.

“Yes,” you said firmly, your conviction unwavering. “And I’m here to help you remember who you are. The world might see the Joker, but I see Arthur Fleck. The man who deserves a chance to be happy.”

As the realization dawned on him, Arthur’s act faded, and the corners of his mouth twitched into a genuine smile. For the first time, he felt something shift within him—a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, he could embrace who he truly was.

The courtroom, once a place of judgment, transformed into a space of understanding. And in that moment, surrounded by the chaos of his life, Arthur Fleck took a step closer to reclaiming his identity, not as the Joker, but as the man you believed in.

---

As the courtroom settled into an uneasy silence, the weight of the moment hung heavy in the air. The jury deliberated, each member acutely aware that they were deciding the fate of Arthur Fleck, a man teetering on the edge of madness and sanity.

You could see the tension etched on Arthur's face as he sat at the defendant's table, anxiety creeping back into his demeanor. You reached out, your hand brushing against his, offering silent support as you both awaited the jury's verdict. The atmosphere crackled with anticipation, and you could feel the eyes of everyone in the room, including the judge, locked on the jury forewoman.

After what felt like an eternity, the forewoman rose, her expression solemn as she prepared to deliver the decision. “We have reached a verdict,” she announced, her voice steady yet laden with gravity.

The room held its breath as she continued, “In the matter of Arthur Fleck, we find the defendant… guilty.” A gasp rippled through the courtroom, and Arthur's heart seemed to drop.

But the forewoman paused, raising her hand to quell the murmurs. “However,” she continued, “while we acknowledge his guilt in the crimes committed, we also recognize that Arthur Fleck was not himself when these acts occurred.”

You felt Arthur tense beside you, his eyes wide with disbelief. The room was still, every ear eager to hear the next words.

“I plead for the court to understand that the Joker is not who Arthur is,” she stated, her voice rising in conviction. “He is a man who has suffered greatly, a victim of circumstances beyond his control. The chaos that he unleashed was not a reflection of his true self.”

Arthur’s gaze flickered between you and the forewoman, the facade of the Joker fading as a glimmer of hope ignited within him.

“He deserves compassion, not the electric chair,” she concluded, her gaze unwavering as she faced the judge. “We recommend that he remain in Arkham, where he can receive the treatment he needs. We must acknowledge that the man before us is not the monster the world has painted him to be.

”The judge nodded, considering the jury's recommendation. Arthur’s breath hitched, the reality of the moment sinking in. For the first time in what felt like forever, he was seen—not just as the Joker but as Arthur Fleck.

As the tension in the courtroom shifted, you squeezed Arthur’s hand, your heart racing with a mixture of fear and hope. The judge’s gavel came down, and the murmurs in the room faded into a hush.

“Let it be known that Arthur Fleck will remain in Arkham Asylum, where he will receive the care and evaluation necessary to address his mental health,” the judge declared. “This court acknowledges the complexities of his psyche and the impact of societal neglect that led to his actions.

”In that moment, Arthur’s shoulders relaxed, the weight of the world lifting just a fraction. You could see the gratitude in his eyes as he turned to you, no longer the man burdened by the chaos of his alter ego. He was Arthur Fleck, a man given a chance to reclaim his identity and navigate the path toward healing.

As the courtroom slowly emptied, you knew this was only the beginning of a long journey, but for now, you felt a sense of victory—a chance to help Arthur find himself again, beyond the shadows of the Joker.

“There’s always a choice,” you whispered to him as the two of you stood to leave. “You just have to be brave enough to take it.”

---

~A few Months later~

---

The atmosphere in Arkham Asylum was heavy with an air of tension, but for you, it was a place of hope. It had been a few months since the trial, and in that time, Arthur had begun to change. He was undergoing therapy, and although the road was long, you could see the glimmers of the man he once was. The Joker's grip on him had weakened, and Arthur was beginning to reclaim his identity.

Today was a special day. You were finally allowed to visit him, and excitement bubbled within you. You had been waiting for this moment, eager to see the man behind the mask, the man you had defended in court and believed in wholeheartedly.

As you entered the visiting area, your heart raced. The sterile environment felt foreign, but your thoughts were solely on Arthur. The moment you spotted him, your breath caught in your throat. He was sitting at a table, looking more at peace than you had ever seen him. His hair was a little longer, and there were still shadows under his eyes, but his smile was genuine—a stark contrast to the dark persona he once wore.

“Arthur!” you called, rushing toward him. His face lit up at the sound of your voice, and you felt warmth spread through your chest.

“Hey,” he replied, his voice softer than you remembered. He stood up, meeting you halfway, and you threw your arms around him, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. It felt right—like home.

When you pulled back, Arthur looked at you with a mixture of gratitude and affection. “I can’t believe you’re here,” he said, his voice filled with emotion.

“I promised I would be, didn’t I?” you replied, your heart swelling. “I’ve been thinking about you every day. How are you holding up?”

He hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words. “It’s... been hard. But with the therapy, I’m starting to feel like I can breathe again. Like I’m not just the Joker.” His expression softened, revealing the vulnerability beneath his usual bravado.

You smiled gently, reaching out to cup his face in your hand. “You’re Arthur Fleck. You’re not just the Joker. You’re so much more than that.”

A flicker of hope danced in his eyes, and for the first time, you saw a glimmer of the man you had known before everything spiraled out of control. “You really believe that?” he asked, his voice almost a whisper.

“Of course, I do. I’ve always believed in you,” you replied, your heart racing as the distance between you shrank. “I’m here for you, Arthur. I care about you—just you.”

His gaze softened, and the walls he had built began to crumble. “I don’t deserve your kindness,” he murmured, his voice tinged with self-doubt.

You shook your head, stepping closer. “You do. You deserve all the love and happiness in the world. You’re not the monster everyone thinks you are. You’re capable of so much good.”

The sincerity in your words reached him, and in that moment, the connection between you both deepened. Arthur’s hand brushed against yours, sending a spark of electricity between you. “I’m so glad you’re here,” he said, his voice steadying. “I’ve missed you.”

I’ve missed you too,” you confessed, feeling the weight of your emotions come to the surface. “I’ve been waiting for this moment—to see you like this.”

As you both sat down together, the conversation flowed naturally. You talked about everything—the therapy, the progress he was making, the little things that brought him joy. With every word, you could see Arthur relax, the tension leaving his shoulders.

When it was time to leave, you stood up reluctantly, wishing you could stay longer. Arthur caught your hand, holding it gently. “Promise me you’ll come back,” he said, his eyes earnest.

“Of course,” you replied, squeezing his hand. “I’ll always come back, Arthur. You’re not alone anymore.”

As you walked away, glancing back at him one last time, you saw a flicker of hope in his eyes—a hope that had been buried but was now beginning to blossom. You knew the road ahead would be challenging, but you were determined to stand by his side, helping him navigate through the darkness.

After all, he was Arthur Fleck, and you were ready to embrace every part of him.

---

Author's Note:

Thank you for reading! I hope it offers a fresh perspective on Arthur Fleck's character and the struggles he faces. Again thank you for the opportunity to write this. Your feedback is welcome, and I appreciate your support as I continue to write about these compelling narratives.

[cheetahspy]

Ledger!Joker x Diabetic Reader Headcanons

Warnings: Medical stuff, needles/injections (it’s not very descriptive though), slight NSFW mention (labeled at the bottom)

A/N: Heya! I’ve never posted something like this before haha…Kinda new to it and very nervous so don’t judge me too harshly. I actually write quite often but rarely post it, however I really wanna start trying to put my work out there more. Keyword try. 

Anyway, fun fact about me, I have T1 diabetes. I haven't seen anything about that with J so I decided to make my own headcanons and such :) Sooooo here’s that lol…enjoy??

You had been diagnosed with T1 diabetes three years ago. You hated it. The needles, the upkeep, the blood, the appointments. It’s scary, a living nightmare for you.

You were still in your…adjusting phase, and didn’t like talking about your diabetes to anyone. Joker was no exception

So, naturally, J took matters into his own hands and did his own research, learning as much as he could about diabetes (without you knowing, of course). How it works, the high and low blood sugar levels, how to manage it, he even figured out how the insulin pump that you have operates. 

You were shocked the day he offered to change the infusion set for you and knowing how to do so. He ignored you when you asked him how he knew.

You were hesitant but quick to give in and let him inject the cannula into your stomach. He hugged you from behind as he did so; you melted into his touch and your fears were comforted. From that day on you opened up more and more about your medical life to J and allowed his help. 

He enjoys being the one to inject the cannula and dexcom, however he still forces you to do it yourself at times, as to make sure you aren’t getting too used to being dependent on someone else. You’re a strong and brave bunny, he wants to remind you of that. 

He will tease you about your dexcom and infusion sets, saying you must be part machine. 

“I’m uh, still convinced you’re a cyborg.” “J!!”

He also forces you to stay on a healthy diet and keeps track of your sugar intake carefully. He’s definitely not a hypocrite. He rarely lets you eat junk food, even though you’re allowed to and tried explaining that to him

“The doctors told me it’s okay if I eat sugar now and then, as long as I have the insulin for it. It’s the sugary drinks I need to avoid more.” 

J doesn’t buy it, nor does he trust your doctor's input. “Mmm. Nuh uh. Can’T have my little bunny go falling into a coma, hm?” You know he’s just concerned about you (even if he’d never outright admit it), so overtime you stopped arguing with him and avoided junk food to ease his mind. Just don’t let him catch you eating it behind his back.

J absentmindedly fidgets with your insulin tube. Rubbing along it, flicking it around, twirling it around his finger, even constantly feeling the cannula end of it against your stomach as if to reassure himself you that it’s still on and doing its job. Don’t worry, he’s only accidentally ripped it out once or twice, and he certainly makes it up to you when that happens. 

Having a low, but forgot sugar to combat it? Not to worry! Joker keeps a juice box or two in his suit juuuust for you. He’s even stacked packages of juices in your pantry so you’ll have plenty. (Don’t ask whether he bought or stole them, you already know the answer)

The low blood sugar episodes hit you hard, but you’ve found curling up on J’s lap and cuddling against his chest while sipping on juice is very comforting. He’ll stroke your hair and rub your back, holding you closer whenever you shake and cry.

“Shhhh sh sh sh. It’s nothin’ you haven’t beaten before. It’ll pass, angel.” 

You hate looking at your stomach and seeing the previous holes and scars from constant injections. J will run his thumb over them and kiss each of them to comfort you. 

Whenever you have a headache or any symptoms, J will immediately interrogate you about your blood sugar level

“Not every pain I get is caused by my diabetes.”

“Shuuuuush. What’re levels right now? Let me uh, lemme see your pum-p. Give. Right. Now.” 

If you’re low on insulin and the pharmacist is late to sending you new vials, J will meet with them personally to have a little chat. 

He’ll then come home and plop the bag of new vials theatrically down on the counter. “Tadaaaa! More insulin for my sweet little sugar cube.”

“Oh, thank you J! Wow, they gave me a lot this time…” 

NSFW:

During the ✨devils tango✨, J will occasionally rip the cannula out by accident. He’ll immediately put a pin in your lovemaking session to get you a new one. Even if you insist you could go an hour or two without it, he’s not taking any chances. After all, where’s the fun in sex if your partner is dying from a seizure??

“J, I promise it’s okay! We don’t have to sto-”

“Now now gumdrop. I know you’re, heh, eager for me, but my patient needs her medicine first.” 

You’re grateful you don’t have to deal with your disability alone anymore. Who knew the Clown Prince of Crime could be such a good caretaker?