#Heath ledger joker x reader

[montimer]

Oh, and you can also write headcanons Ledger!joker with a very gentle reader

Righto

Ledger!Joker x gentle reader

Warnings: none just pure fluff

He loves it that ur gentle, when you touch he's scars so lovingly.

Pet his head,give him a hug, he will melt into ur arms.

If he feels like it he will put his head on ur shoulder or neck and stay like that, especially if you caress his head.

He can't get mad at you even if he comes home angry, you calm him down. He won't say it out loud but his more than happy to have you around.

Shower his face with kisses, he'll hum and pull you close.

If you hug him from behind he will just chuckle and smile to himself "Missed me doll?".

Imagine the two of you ab to go to the bed and you stop and open the door for him "Ladies first" he will raise an eyebrow at you. But then he goes in and all he says is "What a gentle/man/woman" and you chuckle and follow him.

He doesn't understand how you could make his heart beat faster even when you just smile at him. He can't wait to get home to you and see you run to him.

[love-fictional-ppl]

Heath Ledger’s joker as a bf

Pairings: joker x fem!reader

Warnings: language, joker (he needs his own warning) marijuana, blood, criminal activities🥸 smut, etc.

A/N: requested by my home girl😭🤞 (h/c) is hair color

SFW:

On the occasion he gives you a gift, just remember he didn’t pay for it

Both of you dying your hair together and then getting into a hair dye fight where in the end both of you are covered in green and (h/c)

Will force you to rob a bank with him atleast once

If, IF he showers he will make you join him

He smokes/takes Eddies so going to McDonald’s in the middle of the night is a routine at this point

Nighttime, dancing in the rain in Gotham together

Batman impersonations are your inside joke

Sharing your intrusive thoughts with each other and laughing about it like it’s the most normal thing ever

He will not go to the hospital unless he’s shot really badly so most the time he will have you help clean him up after getting into with Bruce.

If you ask him to do his hair or make up (not clown make up) he might say yes but only after a certain exchange iykyk

Will not tell you his real name until like 8 months into your relationship and he does it in the most random and casual way ever. It makes me giggle so lemme play it out for you😭

You’re sat at the table in the kitchen eating cereal while reading the newspaper, Joker sleeping still or so you thought.

“Jack.”

You jump out of the chair landing on the grown, on your ass. Looking up you see the joker standing in the doorway. You annoyed now half-shout, “Who tf is jack?!”

“Me,” he responds simply, “my name is jack.”

“Oh. Well next time don’t scare me!”

Randomly asks shit like “would you rather your brain in a cockroach’s body or a cockroach’s brain in your body?”

Does not filter himself in public so strangers do get details about your sex life

AND SPEAKING OF WHICH

TIME FOR THE NSFW PART

NSFW:

He definitely is a fan of doggy style, when you do doggy he like to put you in a chokehold

Likes to tie you up

He’s dominant that’s a fact, if you want to top him you gotta plead a little bit

Will ask to try new things a lot

Loves getting head more than giving it I feel like

Likes to cum in you or on your stomach

Overstimulation king 👑

Has a mushroom tip🫥

Tbh gives no fucks about ppl being around like he has fingered you in front of a train full of people

He hates condoms but doesn’t want kids so you better be on the pill or ready for the consequences

Degrades you and call you shit like:

“Slut”

“Whore”

“Cock sleeve”

“Cum dump”

But he also will mix nicer pet names in like:

“Pretty girl”

“Hot stuff”

“Sugar”

“Baby”

“Good lookin’”

He sucks with aftercare ngl

Most he’ll do is bring you water and cuddle a bit

Tbh that’s all I can think of😭😭😭

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Broken Glass On The Floor - Joker X GN Reader

Title: Broken Glass On The Floor

Joker X GN Reader

Additional Characters: Batman (Mentioned)

Requested by @getmesomethingreal!

WC: 2,592

Warnings: Fighting (verbal), angry J, J doesn't like feelings, J also hates being wrong, death mentioned, the ending of TDK mentioned, J's in love and he hates it, anxiety, hurt/comfort, angst, and a fluffy ending

You hummed a soft tune as you adjusted the beautiful bouquet of flowers into your favorite vase. The vase was a tall one, with lovely shades of blues and greens to complement the pale yellow roses that sat inside perfectly. It sat in front of your window overlooking the small garden behind your home. A few pots of sunflowers and irises were scattered throughout, giving off a relaxing scent. It felt perfect for the springtime season. The vase was your most prized possession, it was the first item you bought when you got your first apartment, and it had been with you for years ever since; plus, you greatly admired the way the blue and green swirled and contrasted against each other. You smiled at the memory as you put away the remaining flowers, turning to see Joker enter your home from the back door, slamming it shut.

Your smile dropped, watching as the Crown Prince of Crime stalked angrily to his office, completely ignoring you, slamming the door shut. Your shoulders drooped, biting your bottom lip as you wondered what happened while he was out. You wanted to do something for J, to make him feel better, so you wandered over to his office door. You paused at the door, letting out a small breath before you knocked. Now, you weren't scared of J, you never would be, J never turned his anger toward you so you didn't hesitate in helping him when he was angry. Normally when he did come home angry, you'd let him calm down a bit and ask him if he needed anything, or even, rarely, you'd hug him. Even though he normally didn't hug back, you felt like it helped him; to an extent.

You slowly opened the door, spotting J sitting hunched over at his desk, hands in his hair; the dim light made the room a little eerie but you ventured in nonetheless. You hated seeing J so upset, you loved him, so you wanted to help him in some way. "J?" You softly, not wanting to startle him. His head whipped up, his eyes dark as he glared at you, slightly startling you but you continued, "Was it the Batman again?"

Joker practically growled as he dropped his hands and clenched his fists, "Are you trying to mock me?" He asked through gritted teeth as he drew out his words, voice rough and laced with anger. 

You frowned, "No, I'm not, J." You said, walking slowly to him. "I'm just worried about you. If you need anything, or if there's something wrong, you can talk to me-"

"I don't need your help. In fa-ct," He licked his lips slowly, "I don't need you." Joker interrupted, standing abruptly as you bit your lip to try and hold in your tears of confusion and rejection.

“You… You don’t need me?” You asked softly, voice breaking slightly before J pushed past you and out of the office. 

You turned, following, your heart hammering in your chest and eyes widening as J stormed back over to the back door, backhanding your precious vase off the windowsill, causing it to shatter on the ground below. J then left the house, leaving you all alone again. You stood frozen where you stood in the hall, staring dumbly at the shattered pieces of glass and petals in front of you. You couldn't believe what just happened. Tears pricked your eyes as you sank to the ground, burying your face in your hands. This isn’t fair... You thought, tears spilling down your cheeks as you sobbed quietly, mourning over your now broken vase.

~~~

J didn't come back for the next couple of days, probably staying over at that abandoned warehouse, and you were actually glad he wasn't home. You didn't want to see him. Even though he broke your treasured vase, you still loved him. You would never stop loving him.

You sighed, staring blankly in your bed, unconsciously cuddling J's pillow to your chest, curled up into a ball as you replayed over and over your vase falling to the floor. You sniffled, tears stinging your eyes once more. “I can’t believe he broke my vase…” You mumbled to yourself sadly. “I really loved that vase...” You trailed off, sighing sadly once more. J had never done anything like that before, yeah, sometimes he let out his anger, but he never broke things.

Sitting up, you sit back against the headboard of your bed, lazily grabbing the tv remote and turning it on; maybe your favorite show or movies are on. Flipping through channels, you stopped at the news when you saw a glimpse of your Joker on the screen. You watched as police helicopters recorded Batman dropping J off the high skyscraper, before catching him with some device and just letting him hang there. You felt as if your heart fell to the pit of your stomach. J almost died. He was caught by Batman, his plans were foiled, that was why he was so upset. 

You shook your head, that was no excuse for J to snap at you and break your vase. You sighed again, feeling defeated. You didn't know what you should do or what to think. What you did know was that you still didn't want to see him, no matter how much you missed him. 

~~~

The next day, J finally came home. His gloved hand holding a piece of paper, he went straight to his office. Dropping the paper on his desk, he exited and looked around the living room, not seeing you anywhere. The room was deathly quiet except for the sound of the occasional car driving down the neighborhood road. You didn't even have the radio playing. J narrowed his eyes in thought, normally when he came home you were doing something in the main room, reading, cleaning, watching tv, dancing even, humming while you put those flowers away in that dumb vase of yours... J turned his head to where the vase had been, the windowsill was empty and the wooden floor underneath was clean. J didn't mean to break your vase, he was just blinded by his fury and the vase was just there. Batman had ruined his plans and destroyed everything he worked so hard for... He was just so angry he needed to do something.

But J would never hurt you. Never. You were his and only his. Though he would never admit this out loud to you, and it bothered him just thinking about it, he cared about you, enough to probably call it love, but J hated that word. And he knew you loved him too, since you told him all the time. But, he hated how weak it made him feel, he hated how weak you made him feel. It was disgusting. It made him feel terrible, he'd get this weird icky feeling in his stomach around you, and his heart would hammer in his chest from just you smiling at him. Disgusting. Though the thought of you with someone else made his blood boil, he wouldn't let anyone else touch you, he wouldn't let them get close. You were his. Only his and no one else’s. 

So, where were you?

J wandered around the home, slowly, his defense up just in case, J checked each room, before stopping at the bedroom. The door was closed and J tilted his head to the side as he stared at the dark oak door. It was usually open during the day, so why was it closed? J licked the scars on the inside of his cheek, glaring at the door as he heard a tv playing on the other side. You were there. Normally, J would just enter the room, but when J tried to turn the door handle, it wouldn't budge. Locked? He thought, staring at the door a little bit longer before heading back to his office.

A few hours later, heading to the bathroom, J passed you in the hallway. Stopping he turned and watched as you ignored him, making your way down the hall and to the kitchen. J continued to stare as your body turned the corner, confused, before he continued to the bathroom.

A couple hours later, J couldn't find you again, and you weren't in your room, his mind racing as to where you could've been before he found a Post-It on the fridge . At least you told him you were at the store. He'd have to send a goon or two to watch over you.

And only later, when you came back and were reading in your favorite chair and he had entered the living room, only then did Joker realize that you were actively avoiding him as you got up from your chair and left the room, almost as quickly as he entered. 

Now, Joker hated being wrong, being stubborn,  but what he hated more was you ignoring him. After spending so long getting used to your presence after all these years, you were always with a hand on his arm or doing some sort of physical contact, only to now be ignoring him... It was irritating. He hated it. It made his skin itch. No matter how much he hated it, he knew he had to do something to try and get you to talk to him again; look at him again. He was becoming restless. Obsessed with the thought of you as he thought up a plan. So, J did what J thought was best, went out into the Gotham streets.

~~~

You sat in your chair, a few hours since J had left again, and you let out a sad sigh. You had been finding it harder and harder to distance yourself from J, but you had to do it. You hoped he'd understand that you were angry and that you were hurting because of him. You did want nothing more than for him to apologize, but you didn't want him to make an attempt to comfort you if he didn't actually mean it, you didn't really care anymore. You knew deep down under that hard exterior, under the mask, J loved you. You knew it. That was all you could ask for.

You sighed, watching the sun begin to set over the horizon, turning the sky a pinky-blue. You wanted J to come back and hold you and kiss you... And tell you that you were his, something you took as his way of showing that he loved you; along with his very actions alone, the way he held you told you everything. You didn't want an apology, all you wanted now was for your Joker to come home and for things to get back to normal.

As the minutes passed and your eyes began to droop, you heard the back door open. Opening your tired eyes, you slowly blinked, your neck straining as you sat up in your chair after falling asleep oddly on it. Looking over at the back door, J stood there, watching you. You felt your stomach flutter softly at just the sight of him, you were happy he was back. You both said nothing as you adjusted awkwardly in your seat, pushing your legs out from under you as you stood, eyes raking over him as you looked at his overall appearance. His hair was all over the place and the grease paint on his face was cracked and slightly smeared. Looking closer, it seemed that he was holding something, his arms up in an odd way that looked like he was crossing his arms; dare-say like he was holding a baby. 

You watched as J slowly walked over, stopping before you as you looked up at him with a small frown. You stared at him as he did the same to you, silently asking him to speak up first, along with asking him where he had been. With no answer, suddenly, J opened his arms slightly, revealing a small gray kitten with little black stripes and bright blue eyes. You gasped lightly, staring at the baby cat in his arms as the kitten meowed; looking up at J, you could tell he was uncomfortable with the little animal on him, so you took the cat into yours. The kitten meows again as you hold it to your chest, feeling the kitten nuzzle its head against you. You couldn't help but smile down at the little one, before looking up at Joker, who just stared at you and the feline in your arms.

"J..." You whispered out, tears forming in your eyes as you tried to push them down, only for J to let out a gruff hum in return, reaching his finger up to gently poke the kitten on the head, as if he was trying to pet it. It was adorable. You then looked down at the kitten, your mind racing with different name ideas as you thought about all the things you now needed to get, like cat food, a fluffy bed, treats, toys, a food dispenser, and maybe even a cool cat tree. You looked back up at J, a small shy smile growing on your face, "Thank you." You went on the tip of your toes to press a soft kiss onto his lips, your cheeks flushing as his hands immediately reached to your sides, pulling you flush against him, one hand going behind your back and one hand weaving through your hair as he possessively kissed your soft lips. Your eyes slid shut as you melted against him, kissing back as passionately as he kissed you. As the kiss slowly died down, you let out a small laugh, J's finger coming up to brush against your bottom lip, smearing the red grease paint that transferred there.

You hummed happily before hearing the kitten meow, looking down, you scooted the kitten to one arm, the kitten's tiny claws digging into your sweater lightly as you grabbed J's arm with your free hand. 

"Let's go to bed. I'm going to make the baby's bed and find him some food." You spoke, your voice mimicking a child's as you merged to talk to the kitten, "Yes, you are so cute, the cutest of cutes. Who wuvs you, I wuv you!"

As J watched you from the doorway of the bedroom, he placed a hand over his heart, rubbing the purple suit slightly as he felt the faint rapid beating of his heart. His eyes almost softened as he continued to watch you interact with the kitten, seeing that smile on your face, the red grease paint still on your lips, he wished you would keep that paint there forever, showing that you were his. J swore he would protect you from anything and everything, not even Batman could get close to you. Mine, mine, mine, mine. With those words echoing in his head, he entered the bedroom, getting rid of the grease paint on his face before joining you on the bed, and taking you in his arms. You smiled as J buried his now clean face in the crook of your neck.

"I love you." You mumbled, your hand going behind you to brush your fingertips against his cheek briefly as your eyes began to drift close, sleep beginning to take over.

J kept his eyes shut as he felt your breathing slow into a soothing, peaceful pace before he opened his mouth only to close it a moment later; pulling you closer into his chest.

[jokeringcutio]

would you ever write for TDK joker? craving something reader/ledger joker - would you ever write for him? maybe she asks to see him without his makeup and she’s totally dazzled by him, tells him how beautiful he is, touches his scars gently (I mean, he is heath ledger with some scars without it, so it tracks���😅) and he softens

Yes. (Short Drabble follows below:)

Rating: Mature? No Explicit Smut (yet). Just some loveliness. ~*~

You watched from the shadowed corner of the hide-out, the dim light flickering across the Joker's slouched silhouette as he shuffled in. Exhaustion hung on him like one of his tailored jackets, shoulders sagging, his chaotic day etched into every line of his body.

"Rough day?" Your voice cut through the stillness, a blade wrapped in velvet.

He grunted, a non-committal sound that vibrated against the peeling walls. He faced away from you, hands reaching up to smear away the clownish facade with a stained cloth, movements slow and deliberate. The smeared white gave way to tired skin beneath, the green paint-streaked water darkening the basin.

"Chaos reigns," he murmured, the words almost lost as he wiped the last vestige of makeup from around those sleep-deprived eyes, revealing the man beneath the monster.

You stepped closer, the space between you charged with an electric current. The air felt thicker as your gaze traced the contours of his face – yellow teeth, the sallow skin, the embodiment of neglect. No wonder he had never dared to show you his face before, how he kept himself hidden from both you and the rest of the world.

A shame, really. The rest of the world was missing out.

Seeing his unmasked visage, there was something painfully human about him that took your breath away.

"Joker..." It wasn't just a name; it was a revelation, whispered with a reverence that surprised even yourself. "You're beautiful."

The word clung to the damp air, a truth laid bare. You saw him, truly saw him beyond the chaos. Not just the demon that the world portrayed him as, but someone who touched upon the divine. There was beauty in his darkness, a captivating allure in the raw edges of his insanity.

And for a moment, just a fleeting moment, the agent of chaos stood still under your gaze, the world outside the decrepit walls of the hide-out fading into nothingness.

Your hand reached out, tentative as a whisper. Fingertips grazed the jagged landscape of his scars, grotesque and tender all at once. The touch was featherlight, tracing the history written in his flesh, the story of a smile carved by brutality.

He softened.

“Why hide this from me?” The words came out in a breathless whisper.

The wordless exhale of breath, a silent surrender. There, in the dim light, the Joker's eyes flickered with something unnamable. Not joy, not peace. A flicker of humanity amidst the turmoil.

"Liar,” he breathed, the sound a caress against the stillness.

"Beautiful," came the echo of your own voice from moments before, now reflected at you in his voice. His hand lifted, the gesture slow, purposeful. Cold fingertips danced across your cheek, a stark contrast to the warmth blooming within you.

Laughter bubbled up, nervous, shy. Your heart a staccato against ribs. You let him draw you nearer, his grip ghostly on your hand.

He was touching your face with such reverence, studying you with his darkening gaze. It made you feel like jelly under his touch. He had called you beautiful before, but this time, to hear it as an echo of your own words, felt wrong. You were no liar. You’d spoken the truth.

Joker was, without anything to hide behind, beautiful. The most beautiful man you ever saw.

His lips met your palm. Scar tissue, rough and uneven, pressed into your skin. A delicious shiver coiled down your spine, your core pulsing with desire.

"Beautiful," he murmured again, his gaze holding yours captive. And in that look, the world tilted, madness and sanity blurring into a heady mix.

"Joker..." Your voice faltered, drowned in the intensity of his eyes.

"Shh," he silenced you, the sound soft as the brush of moth wings. "Just feel."

And you did. You felt everything.

You trembled, the room's chill a stark contrast to the fever in your veins. "Make love to me," you whispered, the words a loaded gun.

He didn't speak, actions speaking volumes as he moved with a predator's grace. Clothes discarded, whispers of fabric falling to the floor. A hush before the storm.

Your bodies collided, a crash of thunder in the silence. His hands, commanding, insistent, mapped every inch of you, claiming territory. You arched into him, a willing conquest, the world reduced to the space where skin met skin.

Passion flared, raw, and unbridled. Each movement was a sentence in the story you wrote together, punctuated by gasps and moans. The Joker – no longer a specter of chaos but a man ablaze with desire - moved with a singular purpose.

You clawed at the sheets, each breath a plea, each touch a promise. He complied, a give and take that danced on the knife-edge of madness and euphoria.

And then, stillness.

Afterward, you lay entwined, a tangle of limbs and labored breaths. The silence was delicate, a gossamer thread weaving through the aftermath.

"Did you ever imagine..." your voice drifted, a feather on the wind.

"Imagine?" he echoed, his chest rumbling with a low chuckle.

"Us. Like this." Your fingers traced idle patterns on his chest, daring to explore the man beneath the monster.

"Never," he admitted, the word almost lost between you. "Chaos doesn't plan."

"Yet here we are," you mused, the irony not lost on you.

"Here we are," he agreed, his eyes searching yours for a truth you hadn't spoken.

"Will you show me your face more often?" you asked tentatively, seeking his eyes.

"Why would you want that?" The question hung in the air, a thin veneer over deeper inquiries.

"Like I said,"  you whispered. “Beautiful.”

A grin curled his lips, the scars uncurling like the petals of a flower. Gorgeous, your mind provided.

“If your reaction will always be as intense as this, I just might.”

"Good." A simple affirmation, yet it carried the weight of worlds colliding.

"Good," he repeated, tucking you closer to him.

The kiss he placed on top of your head felt like heaven. ~ AN: I haven't been well enough, but once I am, I definitely want to write more for this man. I love his little insane ticks, the licking of his lips, all his mannerisms. Definitely would love to write more about him. But to everyone who didn't get the memo, I am ill (it isn't a flu or a broken leg or something that will go away on its own, it won't go away in a few days, it needs treatment and possibly surgery and time, so keep your fingers crossed that everything will end well so I can write more for all of you lovelies out there.) ♡

[angelkissiies]

Closed hand or open fist

the joker x reader

TW : massive trigger warning for most things in this story. implied non-con. male masturbation. blood kink. extreme violence. trauma kink. stockholm syndrome development. glorified abuse. cutting/stabbing. branding in a sense. im sure there’s more im forgetting but please proceed with caution! minors dni, 18+ please.

part 1/?

word count : 2709

The breath caught in your throat, chest heaving with enough force to send you to the ground if you hadn’t been strapped painfully tight to the freezing metal chair. What was just a normal night shift at the hospital turned into everyone in Gotham's worst nightmare, as you clocked out and headed out to your car- you were chloroformed and stuffed into the trunk of a nearby Cadillac. Which brought you into the moment now, half aware and half filled with terror at the sight of the man in front of you. You knew of him, seeing as his men had hired you for a job and by hired, you meant that they threatened to kill your family if you didn’t follow through with his orders. That being said, you had never actually seen the man. As you took him in, your eyes lingered on the harsh protruding scars around his mouth. No amount of describing would ever be able to properly illuminate the aura of darkness that shrouded the man, from head to toe he exuded terror.

His voice carried through the desolate room, devoid of all signs of human life. You'd have thought this was hell if you didn’t know any better. The smell of standing water and moss filled your nostrils as the door swung closed behind him. Well, well, well.” He licked his lips, giving a rugged smile as he bent down to your height momentarily. “I thought... No, I know... I told you.” tsk, tsk, tsk. In the same fashion a parent would scold a child, his words were filled with something more than disappointment, regret if you didn’t know any better.

“Please, I messed up. I’m sorry.” You whispered, words hanging helplessly in the dim light of the nearby window. From the island, you could hear the noise from the city. Honking, sirens, things you'd probably never hear again. It had been your one job, to get your hands on the interface for WayneTech. The interface would’ve given his men the ability to find the signals The Batman was working off of and take him down, that was if they could even get their hands on it. That's why it was your job, from the outside you were just a nurse- but over the past couple of years, you had begun to secure a gig as a house call nurse for Bruce Wayne himself. That gave you the access, you just had to manage to pull it off. Obviously, you had failed.

The Joker was known for his thin patience, which only made sense now as you finished your sentence his fist made contact with your jaw, sending the chair and yourself teetering backward. He managed to snag it before it fell, jerking you upright at a nauseating speed. “Nuh-uh, nope. Not this time, doll.” He chuckled, cracking his knuckles as he stretched his fingers out. They were covered in bruises and dried blood, his movements opening recent cuts. He didn’t seem to care, his eyes focused on the blood that had begun to pour from your mouth. It was an unnatural red, like the red he painted his lips searching for the dopamine rush that followed fresh blood.

You felt dazed, in all honesty- you’d never been hit before and god, it was much worse than you could’ve imagined. Your head spun, the iron leaving a sickening feeling on your tongue as it fell from your lips to stain your scrubs. “Pl..-” You tried to form words but the ache in your jaw was too painful, sending shooting pain as you opened and closed your mouth. Was he going to kill you? Maybe. He was known for playing with his food and toying with his victims before finding the worst possible way to end their lives. You could only imagine the horror awaiting you as he paced back and forth, his eyes never leaving your mouth.

He bent down close to your face, hand grabbing a chunk of your hair and yanking back to make you look him in the eye. He inched closer and closer until you could feel his breath fan against your face. The proximity made your stomach churn, moving your eyes from his in an attempt to distance yourself. “You…” He muttered, barely audible as his tongue flattened out against your jawline, lapping up a stream of blood that trailed to the corner of your lips. A guttural sound left his lips as he pulled away, now tinted a darker red than normal. “You taste almost too good to kill.” He smirked, using the pad of his thumb to smudge the blood along your obviously broken jaw. It hung bruised and limp, trembling slightly due to your anxiety.

“Do you know what you’ve cost me?” The man prodded, moving to grip your chin roughly. That itself prompted a painful scream to fall from your lips, the striking ache in your jaw magnified by ten times. It was enough to make you begin to cry, the tears had been fought off for so long because of the shock of it all but as the pain sank in, that all changed. There were streams of hot tears running down your face as the man watched in pure delight. Your pain was a drug to him. Every scream, every whimper, every tear. It was orgasmic.

You gave him a feeble nod, spitting blood out of your mouth to avoid choking on it. “I’ll.. fix.. It.” You manage, shuttering as you feel the blood run down your neck. It was a disgusting feeling, even though it was your own blood. It was thick and hot, mixed with saliva to some degree. It just felt violating to be marinating in your own bodily fluids. “I… I swear.” You meant it, if he let you live, you’d do whatever it took to get the interface. Hell, you’d even sleep with Bruce if that's what had to happen.

The Joker licked his lips, smirking lightly as he jostled your face slightly before jerking his hand away. Soaking up the look that crossed your face as you bit back another scream. “Oh yeah? You mean that?” He took a step back from you, eyes narrowing as he took in the sight of you. A disheveled mess, but not nearly as black and blue as he liked his women. What a shame, he could surely fix that with no problem, right? Before you could even suck in a breath, his fist made a home in your eye socket with the force of god himself.

The pressure was enough to make you almost vomit, the chair shaking erratically on two legs as it fought to stay upright. Your vision went in and out, blurring due to what you could only assume were a couple of broken blood vessels in your eye. Ragged gasps left your mouth, your body trembling as the throbbing began. It took only a few seconds for your eye to swell up enough to make it impossible to open or close. Your hands pulled at the restraints, wanting badly to curl up in a ball and comfort yourself.

“Look at me.” He demanded, wiping away some sweat from his brow that in turn wiped away some of his face paint.

Barely able to lift your head, you looked at him. One eye was swollen shut and turning a sicky blue, your jaw hanging limply with a bruise the size of a peach blossoming, you were covered in a thick layer of sweat and blood that stained your work scrubs and tinted your skin. If he’d hit you anymore than he had, you’d probably look like a walking corpse. The thought almost made him giggle, that was, if he wasn’t thinking about the way your blood had tasted on his tongue. His thoughts had strayed from pure torture to his own form of torture porn. His brain was developing sick fantasies of ways he could utilize you. With a broken jaw, he thought of just how wide your mouth could open. Of the pain you’d feel as he throat fucked you as rough as he could, getting off at the sound of your cries as his cock hit the joint that had cracked under his pressure.

The man pushed your shirt up, until it rested on your chest- uncovering your stomach only. The exposure made you shiver slightly, goosebumps rising on your skin as you watched his movements. From his pocket, he pulled something silver that glinted in the light the window provided. “Have you ever wondered how farmers figure out which cattle are theirs when they share communal fields with other farmers?” He asked, the question seeming completely random at such a time.

“No?”

“Well, they use something to mark their cattle. Some farmers like brands, others use tags. Understand? It’s not about making the cattle comfortable, but making them noticeable. You have to know it as soon as you see them or else it's a failure.” The man was so close you could feel the way his hands shook, and telling from his expression it wasn’t out of fear or pain, but out of excitement. Pure adrenaline coated joy was the source of his tremors, which didn’t make sense until you felt something sharp and cold press into your ribcage.

The tip of a knife.

From his pocket, he had drawn a switchblade which he now held to your warm skin- a nagging temptation to just end it now. The ache in his hands begged him to plunge the knife in, to watch the horror on your face as life drained from your body. The idea made his body tense up, blood flooding his cock as it grew in his dusty slacks. The images flashed through his head, fucking into you as you slowly bled to death. Your last living memory of being used by The Joker himself felt like the ultimate sin, it was something he could barely get his mind off of as he pushed the tip of the knife into your skin.

A feral groan left his mouth as blood began to pour from the open wound. It was so fresh, the warm liquid coating his fingers as he tore through the flesh. Every movement made you cry out, adding to his mental store of mastubation material. Your body shook under his touch, cringing away from the pain as he kept going. He was taking his time, going slowly to draw out the raw ecstasy he felt listening to your pathetic whimpering. “You are my cattle now, doll. Understand?” He grunted, chest heaving as he pulled the knife away. On your ribcage sat a capital ‘J’ as a claiming brand, you now belonged to The Joker. One of his many pets, someone he was going to manipulate for the rest of your days on this earth. God help you.

“Y-yes.” You sputtered, taking shallow breaths as the blood loss began to set in. Black spots clouded your vision as you swayed in and out of consciousness. On the floor around you was a large puddle of your blood, more than the amount that was healthy to lose in one sitting- you knew that for sure. Even if you weren’t a nurse, that was still way too much. If you could look in a mirror, you were more than sure that you looked like death itself. A walking reminder of who ran this city.

A sinister smile took to his lips as he nodded gently, “That’s a good girl.” He praised the faux care in his voice causing a knot to form in your stomach. You hated him but you were made to worship him. From the moment you’d begun to work for him, all other things dissolved away. Your life revolved around him now. “Oh boys!~” He sang out, his voice echoing through the empty halls of the old Arkham Asylum.

Was it over?

Two large men in masks came through the door, guns strapped to their hips. They said nothing as they moved across the room, avoiding eye contact with their boss as they unstrapped your arms from the chair. They were the same men from earlier tonight, the two that had haphazardly tossed you into the trunk of a car to bring you to this hellhole. They brought you to your feet, hoisting you up as they drug you out of the room. The ache had begun to settle in your bones, exhaustion coated terror clouding your mind as your slipped from consciousness- left to the mercy of two masked goons.

The Joker watched them take you away, jaw clenching as he saw the way you slumped into their arms. As the door closed, he released a shaky breath. He was alone now, the building had only occupied him and his two men he’d requested to work tonight as his sole goons. Usually, he’d have his entire group here, but he was beyond happy for the solitary confinement of it all. It gave him time to think, it was disgusting- he knew that. That’s why he liked it so much, he was much more of a sicko than most of Gotham knew. He knew one thing for sure, he couldn’t stop fantasizing about the way your blood would coat his cock like a makeshift lubricant. How he could fuck your throat no problem with how much blood had collected in your cheeks, how he didn’t even have to get you wet to take his cock. All he had to do was rub your blood down the shaft and force it in. You’d loosen up eventually for him. You’d grow accustomed to his size and the pain would subside, though he wasn’t sure he wanted it to. He was dying to hear the cries for help that would leave your lips as he bent you over the window seal- pushing you dangerously close to the edge as he took advantage of you. So far from the city that no one could hear you, but so close you could hear the distant sounds of life.

He stepped toward the chair you had been taken from, sitting down in the puddle of your blood that had begun to dry on the metal surface. It seeped into the material of his pants, the now cooled liquid dripping down his thighs as it searched for its home on the floor. His hand trailed down to his crotch, his slacks painfully tight. The man pulled his belt off, discarding it absentmindedly as he made haste to pull his cock free from its restraints. The cool air made him tense up, goosebumps arising on his exposed skin. A deep groan left his mouth as he spread the precum that accumulated on the tip, the sensation sending a jolt through his body. His hand dropped down onto the floor, fingers dipping into the puddle of blood before reconnecting with his stiff cock. The dark red liquid dripped down the shaft, the sight itself enough to make him come unraveled.

His free hand searched his front pocket, pulling out his phone. He turned the camera around on himself, hitting record as he began to pleasure himself. Hand pumping up and down on his cock, elicitng the most erotic noises he’d ever made. The blood was so slick, he could almost imagine how fresh blood would feel. His stomach contracted, head falling back as he recalled those noises he drew out of you earlier. Every whimper you’d let out from his touch, the way your screams sent a thrill throughout his body. He wanted that again, he wanted you back. If he didn’t stop himself, he probably would male his men bring you right back. The idea of locking you up here with him, no escape and no way to say no. A moan slipped through his lips, abs tensing as strings of hot cum shot from his cock. He kept stroking himself, milking every ounce of cum he could. The phone trembled in his hands slightly as he stopped the video, letting himself slump back against the chair. He looked no better than you did, coated in cum and blood as he thought about his next moves.

“Fuck.”

[vitzi9]

Pretty gifts

Joker X GN!Reader

TW/CW: reader is androgynous, murders, talking about kys, work in catering (it needs its own warning), reader curses a lot, mention of vomit, stalker, reader throws up, racism, Gotham is hell and fuck capitalism, blood, violence

tbh i'm a little sad bc nobody ever give their opinion on my works. I put another divider (like the red heart below) in the middle of the story, not really to separate as it's following directly but bc some people find my stories too long so it's like a checkpoint. So when you leave, you know where you were. (It's really long)

also the end is a little weird bc I have no idea if this fandom is still alive so, yeah :) if people are reading, I might continue it. Thing is some ppl find this Joker ugly so...

I hope you'll enjoy this. (19/02/2024) (17k)

You weren't weird by any mean, okay ? Life in Gotham is just really hard. You got harassed, robbed and assaulted more times than you can count. And each time by a new profile type ! Old, young or teen, it doesn't matter, everyone is desperate.

Some of your colleagues at work are prostituting themselves and you for sure considerate selling feet pictures.

That's how life is in Gotham.

But weird ? You stare at the angry man before you, unimpressed. You can't believe he called you weird as well as an incestuous result. You're neither of these. Fuck, how is weird and incestuous his first thought when insulting someone ? Like, he could've called you a fucker, a bitch... Anything !

Your aggressor, if you can even call him that after this, shows you his middle finger while walking background. Quickly though, he loses his balance and fall on the ground. Well, at least he didn't beat you up !

You already got assaulted for your money, which you don't even have, you got two jobs and barely reach the minimal wage. But at the end of the day they, well, stole the few you have, you know ? When you think about it, he strongly smelled like alcohol. That's probably why he failed his attempt.

Even stealing is death here. You never know who you're facing. Hell, just yesterday a guy was killed because he tried to assault some big chief of a mob. Someone with a clown face. TV says the man's limbs were still not all found.

Shit, getting killed by a clown must be mad humiliating too.

You sigh, trying to ease your tired traits by passing your hand on your face. At least the day is over, right ? Another day closer to death. You drag your suddenly much more heavier body on some few meters/yards more, silently praying that no one else will bother you.

Thankfully, your cries were heard. Pushing the old creaking door of the building, you rush to the mailbox. Never have you been comfortable staying long here. The door is only behind you and you don't know if someone is able to enter with bad intention.

Speaking of the devil...

No mail except for this weird card yet again. It's cardboard displaying a drawing of a joker, withdrawn from a poker package. It's certainly not the first time someone pull this kind of joke on you. Though, you have no idea who this is and it creeps you out a little. You turn the card to see if a message was left and sadly, (or not) you were right.

You've been trying to understand who this was for a long time now but in a big city like yours, with god knows who or what ? It's just impossible.

As always, you hate to think this because you don't want this creepy card to become part of your habit, a messy handwriting greets you in black ink.

"I'm everywhere in this city, no one can touch me yet some are fond of me."

You stopped school kind of early so your IQ is probably not high enough for you to understand that. Plus, you don't fucking want to.

You grab the card with you in order to throw it once at home and rush to the stairs (some says someone got killed in the elevator plus it's not working since months so you're not taking it anymore). Finally home. Your hallway still smells like piss and a deadly cold reign here (Nobody knows why). Two of the four bulb of the ceiling has burnt out and a faint static noise is resonating in the whole property.

This building is not even in a neighborhood that bad. But in Gotham, not that bad is still bad. Because bad is sleeping to the sound of gunshot and broken windows. While here, there's still these but not as often as in bad neighborhood. But you can add the moans hearable in the night in it as well.

Your building is really old though, which explains (partially) the bad state it's in.

Taking out the key off your pocket, you start to unlock the door. Unconsciously, your mind goes back to the card of the day. "I'm everywhere"... What's everywhere? There's air. But they specified 'in this city' so air might be too simple.

No one can touch me yet some are fond of me.

You can't touch air and you're not sure people are fond of it particularly. Like, air's fine. It's cool as fuck but are you fond of it ? No. Then what is it ?

You didn't even realize you were looking at the card again, your door wide open while standing in the middle of the hallway ridiculously. Slapping yourself mentally for being so careless, you enter and close the door and all your locks shut.

Some are fond of me, huh ?

In Gotham, what are people even fond of ? Misfortune you'd say. These fuckers love to see others suffer and even make sure they do by engaging in others people life.

But you don't know if that's really the answer. Damn, can't they just give you simple question? Or even better: stop giving you any ?

You drop your bag on the floor, slouching your shoulders and throwing yourself on the couch. Fuck, you hate your life. Why are you even here? You don't deserve this life. Nobody does !

Haphazardly moving your hand, you end up successfully grabbing the remote. You need to empty your mind, or have a background noise at least.

The screen lights up displaying you the newest information girl. The last man disappeared after he made the mistake of letting show his politic side. It's obvious everyone is corrupted here but the mystery in this story is ; who erased him ? It could be mob, politics themselves, everyone.

This city is lost.

The woman is talking about the incessant inflation and how numerous factories and business saw themselves forced to close for good. You just hope your business won't shut down, you need money. What if it does close, though ? You were already sweating trying to live with two jobs, but what if you end up jobless ?

It'll be impossible for you to pay anything. To keep your apartment. To eat. What are you supposed to do if this happens ? You already thought about that and all of your long reflection session always end up on one conclusion: kill yourself.

Because there's no way you're living without job in Gotham while being in the streets. You would have left the city if you had money or even family out there but it's not the case. So yeah, killing yourself that is.

Sure it looks a little extreme but isn't earth overpopulated anyway ?

It's better than being killed. At least, you choose your death ! But you're gonna hope this still won't happen. Up to now, your job is yours so taking such drastic measures won't be necessary. And you hope it'll stay this way.

Damn, you're depressed again. You drown out your worries by hiding your face in your couch's pillow. Man, what capitalism is doing to one.

You switch the channel without looking where your fingers pressed, this time a man is talking. He's saying something about a criminal and quoting every one of his crime. It was going crescendo, at first robbery, assault and burglary but just next to all of that was terrorism and mass murder.

You want to turn your head and watch the profile of this man but are too weak to move. So you simply listen closely to the man voice to get answers.

"Yes, he's a dangerous criminal and he's in town. He already break free from Arkham asylum twice now. If one of you see this man; do not engage, hide and call the police immediately. He is incredibly unstable and may not be alone. If you think you can win against him, you're wrong. He's a manipulative man and a mastermind. If you're seen by him, you better start to pray. Ends the man on a serious tone. Man, this guy knows how to reassure people...

-Indeed, a true monster. But please do not scare our audience. Batman was able to capture him twice, we'll be fine. The man chuckles but does not sound really honest. To answer all the questions you've been a lot to send us, we'll have the pleasure of meeting mister Harvey Dent here, chief of the police department to answer your worries. Harvey Dent ?"

And the voice switched to the other man. You like Harvey Dent. You like to think he's the only man in Gotham who's not corrupted. He's helping the citizens. Unlike that Wayne man. This guy could single-handedly resolve the poverty problem, but does he do it ? Of course not. He's rich after all, why should he care for bum like you ?

Harvey Dent is talking but you're not listening. All you know is that he's trying to ease the population. The men on TV are always saying the same things: empty promises. How the police is already taking care of the problem, that it'll be better soon. Like the police isn't already too fucking busy harassing the wrong people.

Harvey Dent is your last hope. The only man who can change things.

You deeply hope his promises aren't as empty as the other man before him. You turn off the TV and relax in the silence of your flat for a moment, breathing in the perfume impregnated in your couch.

There's screams outside. You can't tell if it's the neighbors or someone outside. Either way, you stand up feeling your eyelids getting heavier by each passing second.

But before leaving to your room, you stop in front of your window and stare outside for a moment. It's nighttime now. The city won't go to sleep, oh no, it's just waking up. The police can already be heard in the distance with its loud sirens. This city really is chaotic. It's just everywhere, you can't escape it. Touching it isn't even possible, you can't grasp it, nor resolve it completely; it's in the air. You can't fight against it. Nobody fights against it.

Fuck, it's like they're fond of it, here.

Chaos, it's scary when you think about it. Because you can't guess what's going to happen. There was a time when you thought that anarchists could be right but if anarchy looks like this, you don't want it anymore. You just want some peace and respect. But it seems too much to ask for Gotham.

You fucking hate chaos.

The next morning, your limbs were so sore you almost didn't make it on time to work. Your boss reprimanded you about your delay, pressuring you by recalling you the time one of your colleagues got fired for it. You were only late of something like one or two minutes but it didn't matter to him.

He only wanted to feel superior. He didn't even need real reasons to yell at you.

The restaurant wasn't packed. Only the usual rich families wanting to spend a pleasant day. They were here to eat breakfast. You try not to think too much about the fact that one single of their jewelry is equal to your salary.

The streets were alive; people running, cars honking. Your colleague hitting your shoulder to bring you back to earth, everything is normal.

"You think you can ask Mike to make another one ? she asks you with a sweet voice. The kid threw a tantrum. It's not salted enough and he hates sausages.

You lift up your eyes towards the crying kid in the back. Cold eyes stuck to his face. You're sure he specifically asked for sausage. You're the one who wrote down his order. And the salt ? Can't he just fucking put some himself?

-Don't question it. They're regulars. Plus, I don't think having beef with a kid is good for our reputation." Tells you your friend after seeing the death look you were giving him.

So you take the plate that looked absolutely perfect and delectable to bring it to Mike. Mike is an old man once passionate about cooking. Now he's forty three and stuck cooking eggs and toast to some crying kids.

"No fucking sausage and more salt please. you say, throwing the plate on the counter in a loud clatter. The man laughs at your anger and don't even need to ask to understand. 'Got it boss !' is your answer.

You lay your weight on the counter, back meeting the freezing temperature of it. Different smells invade your senses; fresh bread, warm oil and eggs. Well, lot of different smells were here as well but they're the one that really stuck out to you.

"You were late this morning right ? Did the client touched their plate ? You can eat it otherwise, it looks fine.

-Because it is, it was made by the best cook of Gotham after all.

The man laughs, mimicking someone blushing by putting his hands on his cheeks. He tells you that you're lying and that you're saying that to flatter him only. Mike had buzzed his hair a few months ago but they were back already; small rough curls mocking him.

You sigh and look back at the plate, it did look really fine. The kid hadn't even touched it ! The eggs and the bread were intact, left in the same state it was neatly put in earlier.

You spend your sweet time talking with Mike before your boss comes in infuriated, ordering you to come back at the front. And you're forced to do so. Grabbing a water jug on your way and putting on a fake smile, you walk towards a new family sitting so straight your back hurts just looking at them.

All of them laid down their menu and are waiting. You arrive, apologizing for the wait. 'Have you decided ?' you ask while putting the water on the table. The man takes the menu and start listing his orders without a smile nor even a look in your direction. The woman is busy keeping her children calm and asking them to calm down. The other tables are side-eyeing her while the husband doesn't even acknowledge his wife.

"Noted, you smile and turn your head to stare at the woman for her to start ordering.

She smiles awkwardly, and tells you her kids orders before ordering for herself. You thank them, "I'll be right back." and you leave to the kitchen. You sigh, scotch the orders on the wall, grabs the plate left for you to take and head back to the crying kid from earlier. The demon who ordered fucking sausage before saying he hated them.

But as soon as you place the plate before him with a smile, the kid slams his fists on the table resulting in his glass of water to splash on you and break on the floor. The mother gasps while the dad gives a slap in his son's head without even you registering the whole situation. Your clothes are completely soaked, you want to say something but his mother is sending daggers at you with her eyes and you know not to mess with this stupid fucking family.

Did he did it on purpose ? Yes. Are you gonna say something ? No.

"It's okay, I love children." you don't.

And you leave. Deeply humiliated. But you can't do anything. Because you're no one compared to them, they're gonna win. Always. Your friend asks if you're okay, you shrug. She's unable to question you further as she has to continue working. You head to the back in search of a broom.

The small closet is all the way behind the kitchen and you're already tired just thinking about it. Once you're in, you frenetically search for your item only for a shelf to fall apart behind you and destroy itself on the ground. You bite your lower lip with all your strength to retain you from crying and cursing the whole world.

It's okay, it's just a shelf. It's okay, you try to think but it's hard when it's not even noon and too much shit already happened to you.

You crouch down and start gathering everything you can when your eyes falls upon another one of these poker card. You frown and take it in your hands, examining it deeply. Uh, wow, okay. It's a little weird. You just happen to receive these daily in your mailbox and suddenly there's one here. Okay, totally normal.

You stand up, looking around you for an answer, trying to see if a camera is here somewhere. But nothing. So you turn the card to read the new message: You need one to live, I often rip it apart and yours is mine to steal. A heart ? you immediately think. You definitely need one to live and the sentence 'steal your heart' is kinda famous. But rip it apart ? Is it, like, a metaphor ? Glancing back quickly, you notice a small note left in the bottom right corner of the card. It reads: what a shitty shelf.

You laugh nervously, your breath getting stuck in your throat. What the actual fuck ? it's not even funny, what the hell ? Sorry for the fucking shelf ? They knew this was going to happen ? You definitely have to talk to someone.

You pass your hand on your face, rubbing it strongly as if to wake you up from a bad dream. Then you take the broom and head back.

Rushing to the kitchen, you accidentally pushes someone in your haste. You see Mike from afar and don't even need to approach him that you yell your question for everyone to hear:

"Mike, do you happen to play poker ?" the man faces you, his confused expression told it all, he didn't. And from the other's cook faces, they probably all thought that you were crazy. None of them looking guilty. But you'll investigate that later.

Not wasting any seconds, you almost run to the main room to find your friend. Luckily for you, she's cleaning glasses at the bar.

"Hey, is it yours ?" you're a little out of breath when showing her the joker card. Your friend simply shakes her head. When you asked her if she knew if one of your colleagues was playing poker, she shrugged and told you she didn't know with an apologetic smile.

"Why ? she asks.

-It's complicated." you say.

It can't be from the same person, right ? If it is anyway, that probably means one of your colleagues is the one putting these at your place. Which is a terrifying idea because you sure never gave your address to anyone here. Trying to see the bright side of it all, that means that you may know your 'joker'. And if that's the case, there's a way for you to stop them. It's better than the cards coming from a total stranger, because you can't act against them. You'll probably leave some clues at work to see and trap your joker.

The rest of the day was terribly hard. You were dying from the inside. Your tummy was growling like a beast; you did not have the time to eat. As you're juggling between two jobs, your boss thought that he had to exploit you as much as he could before you left. Because you're joining the bar, your second working place, at two pm.

"You're gonna leave in the middle of the day, when most people are coming. I'm losing money here, you see ?" he had said to you that day. Yeah, he does not give you any breaks because to him, you don't need one as you leave earlier. Of course you tried to negotiate and he was agreeing with you, on the condition that he pays you less.

"Mike, I'm leaving. you tell him, taking off your apron. Have a nice day, say hi to your kids for me." he smiles warmly to you, wave and you're out of the room in a quarter of seconds. You already bid goodbye to your friend so all you had to do now was to leave.

Putting on your jacket, your thoughts can't stop but think back about this other card you found. Yours is mine to steal. In what sense ? You could've thought it was some creepy flirting but it's just too much. You found these at home, at work. Everywhere. Are they going to rip your heart apart, too ? Are these threats ?

Hopping in the bus, you try to stay away from Gotham's crackhead as much as possible but it's hard when they're drunk and staring at you like they want to beat the shit out of you.

Fortunately, your stop arrives and you hurry to get out. It's 2:36 PM (14:36), the bar is not open yet but cleaning and organizing everything is part of your contract.

It's at five pm (17h) that you open the bar, standing behind your counter and waiting patiently for clients to arrive. You're happy Sean is here. He's a big man of 2m3 (~6'8), practices combat sport and knows how to handle different weapons. In a neighborhood like this, you're more than grateful to have him.

He's also the son of the owner. So it's really just the two of you here. The first persons starts entering the place and it quickly fills up entirely. It's quite a famous area, cops never comes here as mobs are doing their own laws. Sean puts on some background music you can't even hear anymore over the loud voices of the men laughing cavernously.

You're busy serving people's drinks. Moving as fast as you could but it being hard when your thoughts are plagued by cards and your mind is not here. Who's this joker man ?

The street lamp are all finally on, meaning it was past seven already. You didn't even see time pass, the incessant flirting and bickering of the men here enough to keep you from being alone with your thoughts.

"Thanks baby." says a young man when you give him his beer. He has a really bad scar going from his forehead to his lower lip. It's no surprise, you saw men with less limbs, other talking unknowns languages, some with sight or hearing completely lost. Sometimes normal people like you would come, women even but more rarely as the men here were true animals.

You wonder what type of people there is with you tonight. You're not naive enough to think all of them are innocent, in fact, you're sure 85% of your client here are criminals. This bar is situated apart from the city, in a corner more secluded with abandoned looking buildings and scary dark alleys you certainly don't want to visit at night, or even at day for that matter.

This place sucks.

Honestly, with your cards problem, you even considered engaging a spy to see who put these creepy notes in your mailbox. But two things prevented you to do so; first, you do not want to do business with criminals, second; there was a chance that your joker was one of your client.

Some of your clients here probably have mental illness as well, worsening their state. And maybe someone fixated on you and decided to follow you home. It'd be really awkward to engage a man to scare your joker away, only for him to be the same person you're trying to avoid.

But now this idea starts to disappear. You found a card at work after all, your boss is not stupid enough to let anyone break in. So the criminal track wasn't the one. It's one of your colleagues. There's just no way one of the bar's client could have followed you home and at the restaurant.

But on the other hand, it's difficult to see one of your colleagues following you home too. Because after working at the restaurant, you're not heading home right away. You're working here. Is it possible they waited outside until you finished ?

"A whisky for me." is what tears you away from your misery.

You do not look up, instead turning your back to him and reaching the shelves to search for the bottle. You grab a glass, throwing ice cubes in it and pouring the harsh liquid in. You then slide it to him, he nods and drink a first long gulp.

You follow his arm to his face before blocking on it. It's a man with a skin so pale it's getting worrying. His eye bag are terribly dark that you thought he had put black eye-shadow on them. And for a second, you truly thought it was the case. He had really bad scars going from each corner of his lips up to his cheeks, like a badly drawn smile. In the small crevices of his scarred skin, there was faint white and red paint, or make-up that did not left during shower. Is he like, a mime or a clown ? He looks like he haven't showered for a while, no judgements or anything, but his green hair are greasy.

He continues to savor his drink quietly while you're here, astonished by such weird scars. You saw scars, a lot of them. But they all looked accidental, caused by self defense or anything. But his clearly looked volunteer. You could clearly see that the goal was to create some sick form of smile, whether it is successful or not. What the hell happened to this guy ? Has he been tortured ? Did he make these to himself ?

'You got some nasty scars' you want to say. But the wicked grin he gives you is enough to make you gulp and smile awkwardly. Of course he saw you looking at him, you did not move an inch/millimeters. And he does not look like the type of guy to be nice.

"D'you like them ?

-Sorry ? you blinked.

-My scars. Do you like them ?

-Uh, yeah, yeah.

Fucking creepy. What the hell ? What did he do to have those ? Why is he even asking you this ? Why is he looking at you like that ?

-Do you want to know how I got them ?

-No." you answer at the mere second he ended his question, by pure fear he was going to destroy you. Or try to recreate those scars on you. Hey, you never know.

The man grins and chuckles at the quickness of your answer and stops talking for a while. Did you just escape death ? You think so.

He stopped drinking, though. You try to look busy but you're just organizing and disorganizing things on loop. Sean is having the time of his life chatting with the clients towards the tables area. But you, you're stuck behind the counter. You can't even count the times you got your ass slapped or got whistled. Plus, some of these guys often try to threaten you with knifes to make you give them free drinks.

It could've work if Sean wasn't here.

But it's comical in a sense. The morning, you're busy being the little dog, the little slave of these stuck rich people crying when their plate arrives one minute late, with prices on the menu so high it's clearly a scam for some eggs and bacon. With a ground so perfectly clean you could lick it.

And at night, you're here. Surrounded by criminals, drunkards and God knows who. With bad music taste rumbling in the background and place so dirty you could throw up and not even see it through the trash lingering on the ground. Well, in your defense, because you're the one cleaning, it was clean before. But everyone arrives with their disgusting shoes or bleeding and then they spill their drinks, and they fight and, yeah. At the end of the day, this place is a mess.

Your back is still facing the mime guy but you know he's staring at you. You know it because you can't stop shuddering. Your works are sure keeping you in touch with reality at least, you've seen both extreme.

"What's your name ?" You face him, afraid to offend this weirdo.

Telling him your name out of all the people ? Never. Smiling the best you can, you tell him your coworker name from the restaurant. He grins like a Cheshire cat, his smile accentuated by his prominent scars, nodding. You know better than to ask him back his name, he's probably, surely, a criminal. You don't have a death wish at the moment. You usually don't like to lie but this job at the bar taught you better.

-You know, he starts again and you pray he does not start to harass you with questions, he licks his lower lip before continuing. There's one thing I truly hate in this world. He pauses. You wanna know what ?

-Tell me. You say reluctantly, not wanting to anger him.

He lays one of his elbows on the counter, raising a brow and looking around him as if going to tell you a secret he wants no one else but you to know. Then, he looks at you again, a mysterious glint in his eyes.

-Liars.

Oh.

-They're such... he squints his eyes, moving his hand in the air to the flow of his thoughts. Vicious, little bitch, you know ? If we want to change things, he licks his lips, they're the first people that have to go. Don't you think ?

-Yes, I'm with you on that. you hurry to answer, nodding frenetically, feeling your blood run cold and a sweat cross your spine. Myself I really can't stand lying, you know ? Liars are really bad, they're manipulative and all. you were just trying to save your ass at this point. You received a lot of threats in your life, but this man right here ? There was something deeply wrong with him. He was fucking traumatizing you. You did not want to mess with him.

The only thing plaguing your thoughts is; does he know ? Does he know you lied about your name ? Because he specifically asked this question right after you presented yourself. Does he know ? No, no he doesn't. How is he supposed to know you ? You don't even have any name tag on.

The man chuckles deeply before you, licking very briefly his lips again; is that a tic ?

-What's his name ? he asks, looking straight to Sean, as if judging his soul. Does he have to stare at people like he wants to kill them all the time ?

Now you understand. He scared the shit out of you to ensure you wouldn't be lying to him. And now he's testing you. Why, you don't know. But you answer honestly this time. He smiles mischievously. Maybe that wasn't even his plan, maybe he's just deeply weird and unsettling. Maybe he doesn't even know you ever lied to him. Maybe you see things where there's none.

If there's one thing Gotham has taught you, it's to be wary of everyone.

-Are you fucking him ? he asks again, still looking at Sean laughing with the others.

-Why ? this thought never even crossed your mind before. Why would you fuck Sean ? He's nice, he's good looking but, you don't know, you wouldn't fuck him. You just, don't want to ? He's a friend.

-He's quite the tall guy. Are you fucking him ? he insists, ignoring completely your question.

Wow, that is getting incredibly uncomfortable and personal. You know you're supposed to entertain them and all but damn, this guy is killing you. You throw a glance in Sean's direction, hoping to catch his attention so he could help you but he's busy laughing with other clients.

-Why're looking at him ? I'm the one talking.

-I don't think this is appropriate, Sir. It's quite the personal questions you're asking me here. you laugh nervously, hoping to relax the mood but the man before you doesn't even react. Can I maybe offer you another drink ? It'll help...

-You got something to hide ? he licks his lips.

What. The. Fuck.

-I have to stay mysterious in order for you to come back, right ? you do not want this weirdo to come back, but that's the default sentence you usually say to avoid answering intimate questions.

But the make-up man does not insist, he gives you a cheeky grin.

-You want me to come back ? How flattering.

Most of the time, what you implies when saying this is that you want them to come back to consume more, so you have more money because you're kinda the bartender of this place. But this guy just plainly wants to fuck you up. Where's Sean when you need him the most ?

It's like no one around you is seeing you. They're all drinking their sadness, trauma, day away, not caring that a creepy guy is keeping you in his weird conversation you clearly do not want to participate in.

-Do you want to play a game with me ?

-I'm... Quite busy, actually. So...

But he knows you, now. He knows you're a bad little liar. Listening to you is now optional to him; he clearly doesn't care. The man stands up and you start to get scared. What is he going to do ? Is he going to hurt you ? Your hand is holding firmly the bat under the counter, fingers shaking with adrenaline. You never used a weapon before, less against someone. You never hurt someone, intentionally at least.

Sean, move your ass over here, now.

The man grins, eyes trailing your arms. He knows you're hiding something under this counter, but can he blame you ? You're surrounded by criminals, he's one himself ! It's impossible to know what to expect. Honestly, you're ready to scream to get attention and get helped. Even if there's high possibilities for a general fighting to start resulting in this poor bar to be destroyed.

But the man does not try to hurt you, he smiles, put his hands in his pocket and you now realize how well he's dressed for someone like him. A nice and well maintained purple suit.

"It makes me live and follow you at dark, keeps me up at night and makes you fall apart."

No...

-Who am I ?" He ends slowly, torturing you.

Your shoulders slouched down, tension leaving your hand on the bat. Your body become a big, useless puddle. Eyes as big as owl ones.

"I-I don't want to play. Your stutter had gave away your uneasy feeling, you step back, eyeing this man from head to toe.

You've come to despise those damn riddles. You don't want to hear more of them.

-But this one's so simple sweetheart. He mocks you. It starts with a pretty little O and ends with a N. I'm sure you'll find out.

You shake your head slowly; no, it's not simple, no, you don't want to find out, no, you don't fucking want to listen to him. But he simply chuckles, relatively amused by such a big reaction. Well, with that kind of huge revelation, you can't quite control yourself.

He's rummaging through his pocket, heart almost leaving you. What is he searching for ? A weapon ? What is he thinking ? But against all odds, the joker man takes out something so small you can't even see it behind his palm. You know he's doing it on purpose, hiding it from you to destroy you more, to see the look of surprise, fear or shock, or... Whatever, on your face.

-That's my business card, as a little... Reminder." You deeply doubt someone like him own any business, less business card. So what is he going to give you ?

He lays gently his hand on the counter right before you, not letting you see what he was hiding until he removed completely his hand, confirming your theory of him hiding it on purpose. You'd recognize them anytime. Your heart is beating faster, so fast you're scared it might explode. Nothing is written on the side you're staring at, you grab the cardboard, praying that it's just a crazy coincidence even if the drawing of the joker smiling stupidly on the card is taunting you.

But when you turn the card, the answer is given to you. For the first time since you've started to receive these.

-Obsession." you sigh, breath getting stuck in your throat. You were petrified. "You're... You're the joker man." you say in a shaky voice. Was it finally him ? Answers, you needed answers. But when you looked up, the man had disappeared. Leaving you with nothing but deep fear.

Silent tears slide on your cheeks, you bring your hand to your mouth in order to hide your muffles. Looking back at the card, you feel your legs give up under you when your real name is written in bold black letters in a bottom corner. Bile is rushing to your throat.

It's him. He's the one sending you these.

But you don't know him. You don't fucking know this man. And he's a criminal. You're fucked. Smiling like a madman, you start to laugh nervously, not realizing the situation. It's a joke, right ? You cough, progressively choking on your saliva. You bite your lower lip so hard it starts bleeding. You pray, you pray so hard this man isn't your stalker but you're lying to yourself. It's literally the worst case scenario that could happen.

You've never seen this man in your entire fucking life. Where does he even come from ? Why you ? Why him ? With his fucking creepy scars and fucking riddles. He knows your address ! Your name ! What else does he know ?

"You okay there ?" You nod without even looking at the person talking to you. You choke out a quick answer before rushing to the back towards the private toilet.

Immediately collapsing to the ground, you throw up everything you had in you, which wasn't a lot to begin with. You barely even ate anything. But you can't stop. You empty yourself, only vomiting water.

Sean finally comes get you, he rubs your back and help you get up. "What happened ?" He asks you.

"I don't fucking know." Is the only thing you can muster.

What you do know however, is that you're scared to go home.

"Are you heading home tonight ?" You ask him, voice hoarse. "Well, yeah" is his answer. So you asked him, begged him to come with you. Because you were horrified by the mere idea of going home alone. Maybe he would be here.

"You can come to mine if ya want." he offers. And you think that the guy from yesterday probably was right, you were weird. Why aren't you going to the cops, after all ? Probably because they'll think you're lying, that you're insane. A joker ? Harassing you with riddles ? You'll end up in a asylum in no time.

But wouldn't you be safer in a asylum ?

When Sean and you closed the bar, it was already well past one am. You didn't had the strength to redo this all over again tomorrow. But Sean was of good company, cheering you up and trying to ease your mind. Multiples times he tried to ask what was wrong, but he guessed it alone. "Was it that weird customer in purple ? The one with the suit ? I saw him lingering a really long time at the counter." You shrugged when he said that, completely worn out. What could he even do against him anyway ? The Joker man wasn't known to any of you. It was a lost cause.

Chatting with your friends wasn't even crossing your mind, you were terrified. The long walk to his apartment was as quiet as a church. What the fuck were you going to do now ? You were dead, yes, you were just dead at this point. What can you even do against some psycho following you around ? Fight back ? Yeah, if you have a death wish. You have to get out of this city, there's no other plan. But how ? And to go where ?

"We're here." says Sean. You've never been to his apartment's before, and to be honest, you would have preferred for it to happen in other circumstances. Trying to escape a criminal wasn't in this year plan.

Before you stood a tumbledown grey building, not much different from yours in reality. After all, Sean's not that rich, he's payed like you and live with his dad's payment. Though, you're pleasantly surprised to see the coziness of his place.

Warm lights were turned on, his sofa looked quite mellow and the general smell of the apartment was lovely. Not that you're judging him, but you wouldn't have thought he was such a clean guy. Because he's like, well, some kind of mafia man. So, yeah, he often smells like sweat and dirt himself, it's a surprise his place is so neat. Sure, it's damaged by humidity then and there, there's cracks in the walls but so do yours. The paint is peeling in some areas as well, you're used to it enough to not notice it. You take off your shoes, but keep your jacket. Probably in search of a safe feeling, maybe by fear of being vulnerable.

"You can sit on the couch, I'll order something.

You don't even have the will to eat right now, the ugly feeling everything entering your body might be threw back out instantly bothering you too much. However, you did sit on the couch. It smelt like him; you hated it. You were violating his property, his intimacy. You shouldn't be here.

But do you really have a choice ?

Sean is talking in the background, on the phone, yet, not a single word is understood by you. It's like he's speaking a whole new language. The red flowers on his TV stand keeps reminding you of the joker's card and his damn hat.

He hung up, that you heard, and left for another room. You hate to bother him, he probably only wanted to go home and sleep after a hard day but you messed up his plans. Grabbing the remote, you turn on the TV to empty your mind. You search for series, documentary or cartoons, only to be disappointed at the sight of obnoxious ads.

You end up watching the news, it being the sole channel not drowned in ads. A woman is speaking in a professional neutral voice, wearing a white shirt. She talks about the inflation killing our country before going onto her next subject; the outgrowing insecurity. The two preoccupation of the government, or at least, what they want you all to think about.

From what she says, a hold-up happened in a bank yesterday, in plain sight. (Why do they talk about it now, you don't now.) The building stank laughing gas. Only one man declares having seen the main suspect. Her chair slides to the side, leaving space for the video to appear and for the victim to testify; "Green disgusting hair and some fucked up clown make-up. That's the only thing I saw. He has no value, I'm telling you, criminals used to believe in things ! He has no respect for anyone, he killed his own team ! He's gonna come back for me, I'm sure of..." and he's erased from the screen at his outburst, for everyone to forget his trauma.

Did he say clown ?

"Indeed, the woman vigorously resumes, a faint smile on, was she laughing at the victim ? green hair and clown make-up is on brand today as everyone only talks about this mysterious criminal. After disappearing for months, the troublemaker is back in town and seems unstoppable. But has he truly ever gone away ?

It's not the same man, right ? No, no of course not. If he's a famous criminal, he has better things to do than harass insignificant useless civilians like you with stupid riddles. He robbed a bank ! Why would he even look in your direction? Fuck, what if he thinks you have some kind information? What if he think you're related to a criminal ? What if you are ?

-He calls himself Joker, always wears his clown make up and has a habit of wandering at night." The woman straightens her posture and clasps her hands together. "After yesterday's fiasco, the famous criminal already perpetrated his next attack. Earlier, at noon, the biggest hospital of the city was targeted. Cops were able to evacuate everyone urgently. Gotham is in shamble, people are afraid and angry. The police is trying to calm the crowds, in vain." Images are shown behind her of people running, yelling, stretchers evacuating and flashing cops car during her speech.

She continues talking but you stopped listening when finally a picture of the Joker was displayed on the screen, his face horrifyingly reminding you something. Too many information are going to your brain in so little time. You try to rationalize everything but it's hard when your mind is too tired to cooperate.

He's called the Joker. And you happen to receive joker cards. He wears make up. The man at the bar looked like he did. Hyperventilating is the only thing seemingly still possible from your body. You stand up, inking, sinking, learning, engraving his face to memory.

Two big scars, both going from each corner of his mouth to his cheeks.

Like a badly drawn smile.

"Sean !" you call. Your friend runs out of the bathroom, disheveled, shirt loose and no pants, only in underwear. He rushed out, scared something had happened. Your shaking pointer aim at the TV screen, at the face of the man on it. "It's him. He was at the bar."

When Sean looks at the man, a chill runs down his spine. He understands what might have happened earlier. He could see the purple suit the man had on on the picture, which was the exact same one he saw at the bar. Fuck, it is the same man. He knows the Joker, hell, everyone knows him here.

And that's bad news.

He's everywhere in everyone business. He has no sense of loyalty whatsoever, killing even his best allies and no one has the slightest clue what he wants. At the bar, he probably scared the shit out of you, he probably threatened you, too. Why, it's impossible to know. He's quite the unpredictable.

-Don't worry, he says, he probably forgot about you already. He's a scary man, likes to shock people a little. He always attack for a reason and you're not a criminal, so you're good."

But you couldn't believe it. He does not have all the information. He doesn't know about the tons of cards you received until now. Eyes completely stuck to the screen, you observe the face before you, knowing you probably wouldn't be able to escape him.

Somehow, this emission confirmed to you that he was real, that you weren't dreaming. And that you really were in it deeply.

Sean insists you shower to relax a little bit, you're holding onto the remote for dear life, nails digging in your palm. When in the bathroom, your eyes automatically gravitates towards the mirror, discovering your new face scarred by sleepless nights and cries. You're almost scared of your reflection. Sighing, your hands find themselves in your pockets alone but you're startled by the coldness they are greeted with. What have you in your pocket that is freezing like that ?

Your unease comes back in a rush when you take out another one of these cards from your jacket. Are you for real going crazy ? What is going on ? When did this get here ? How did it get here ? It's your damn jacket ! You had it in the work closet all day !

You're tired and doing this little fucked up game is not doing any good. A greasy almost wiped red is the first thing you see, his lips, you guess. He wears some kind of paint as lip stick, he fucking kissed the card, creepy bastard.

Turning the stiff paper, your eyes meet once again one of these painful riddle.

"I'm everywhere, you can't escape me and I'm coming for you. Who am I ?" tears slide quietly on your cheeks, the only sane reaction your emotionless state can give. You're not even moving, eyes staying fixated on the card; the tears are just physical. Body exhausted from it all. What is this now ? You know he's not talking about an object anymore, he's talking about himself. It's not riddles, it's threats. He's coming for you, what is he going to do ? Kill you ? Torture you, or worse ?

The shower did nothing to ease your nerves, you've never been so tensed in your life. What could you even do against this man ?

When Sean called you to eat, you let him know you weren't feeling the slightest hunger. He said nothing, simply keeping a plate for you on the kitchen counter.

You did not even blink an eye that night, paranoid at the slightest noise, a knife slept cautiously under your cushion. The windows and doors were completely shut and you would have loved to do the very same thing to your brain. You fell asleep, eventually, when you should have been up.

Sean was still asleep when you awoke the next day. You were late, and terribly so, the clicking clock on the wall warning you. It was already way past nine. You don't like to leave his house without even thanking him for his hospitality once again. But you'll see him tonight, at the bar. You'll probably have to quit, though. Not yet, as you have to secure another job. You can't risk being here without money, after all. Joker knows where you work at, no way you're staying more than necessary. But... he has to know about your restaurant job too, somehow.

You had a card in the closet, with his stupid shelf trap, after all.

You're safer there, maybe. It's quite the chic area. There's camera, people. Socialites are here, nobody attacks socialites. Usually, at least. Doubts subsists, the journalist on the TV affirmed the Joker attacked in the middle of the day, in plain sight. Would he attack the rich ? They're untouchable, their lawyer always know what to do and they know everyone. You can't kill a famous advocate, right ? It's like attacking the mayor. Remembering his face, you keep the unsettling impression he could kill anyone.

Fuck.

You take a piece of paper, write a few words on it, scotch it on the fridge and leave, dashing outside to not worsen your lateness. You were dead, oh you were so dead. Late couldn't even describe your situation by now. You boss was going to kill you, de-materialize you and send you in another world.

You ran until your legs couldn't support you anymore, people were side-eyeing you in the streets. Certainly thinking of you as some kind of thief or at the very least a criminal of some sort.

Jumping in the nearest bus, your legs being too weak to support you anymore, you finally arrive at your workplace ten minutes later. It was quarter to ten.

You're breathless, rushing once again to the rear of the restaurant. You push the back door open but to your surprise, it won't budge. What ? The guys never lock the door that early in the morning, they know you'll arrive, eventually. You knock a few times, knowing you had the key anyway but if someone was passing by inside, it would be quicker.

You don't have to wait that long as your boss himself is the one opening it for you, as if waiting beside it until your entry. He probably was. He crosses his arms on his chest, eyes glaring holes in you. Damn, you'll have to fight with him, again. You promised him you wouldn't be late anymore, he will never trust you again.

Well, it's not like he trusted you much before to begin with.

"Listen, I'm terribly sorry I'm late but... he scoffs.

-As If that was the only problem ! The man tightens his jaw, talking between his teeth. He approaches his head to yours, almost colliding your forehead together; he talks lowly, scared to be heard. You know damn well what's wrong.

Wow, okay. You were not expecting his reaction to be that dramatic. You're just (incredibly) late. It's not new. What's gotten into him ? You squint your eyes, at a loss of words.

-I was just... You start, ready to recite him once again your preposterous apologies.

-I don't give a fuck about you being late, he cracks, get out of here now ! You are not to put a single of your foot in this restaurant anymore ! You're gonna scare my customers ! In the process, a postilion left its house to attack your cheek. You cringe, immediately wiping it with your sleeve, shuddering in disgust.

-What ?

-What, what, he mimics you with a grimace and a weird voice, Get out of here ! He articulates each words slowly as if you were a foreigner, except his tone was harsh and firm. Haven't you seen the news ? If they hear a criminal is working here, I'm screwed.

-A criminal ? But I'm not... I'm, what the hell ? I'm not a criminal Tony.

-Yeah, yeah, and I'm rich ! Get the fuck out of here or at least, do me a favor and let me turn you in to the police." his face changes to disdain, suddenly thoroughly repelled by your being. "Man, you have to be some dirty criminal to have 600 000$ put on your face. What kind of shit have you done, huh ?

Six fucking what ?

-Uh, listen, I think there's some kind of misunderstanding here. I'm no criminal and I'm definitely not worth that much money.

Hell, in all your life, you did not even earn that much money !

-Hey, his tone changed to deviously adopt one sweeter. I don't want any problems okay ? With you, the cops or whoever is fucking wanting you dead. I'm an honest citizen.

What a hypocrite, he was literally yelling at you seconds ago.

You frown, trying to even understand what he's implying. You scratch your cheek, eyeing him from head to toe. He's in a tux, like always. He never do shit here, settling for bossing everyone around while trying to make you believe he's an irreplaceable element in the team.

Judging by his eyes, he is not kidding.

Is he for real firing you ? Just like that ? For some imaginary story he just made up ? Jobless, you will be jobless. He is firing you. A nervous chuckles escapes you, earning you a raise of the brow from Tony. No, oh no no ! You have this job, you did nothing wrong ! Life is already more shitty than it ever been ! Stalker, debts, fucking serial killer wanting your ass and now you lost your main job ? No, that won't do.

You were already planning to leave the bar, how are you supposed to find back two jobs ? One already was an ordeal.

-Honest citizen ? Are you blind ? You were more so than him at the moment. You don't even have an ounce of honesty in your fucking body ! Are you even aware of everything I did for this shitty place ? You can't fire me and you won't because no one else want to be your fucking slave ! Your job is slavery ! I don't want to be some kind of toy you throw away after you've had enough fun with it !

Tony was outraged you could talk to him like that. He was similar to a bourgeois in the eighteenth century, acting shocked after being the most gruesome person alive, putting his hand displayed on his chest and playing innocent.

-Me ? You should be honored to even be working ! You never understand, do you ? You are wanted, that's it ! There's nothing more, nothing less. You are fired. I am not hiring trash.

You hope the worst criminal of this town gets you, right here, for his fucking ugly disgusting restaurant to be destroyed to the very last crumbs. You'll use his body as a human shield while you're at it, after all, what else can he be useful for ?

Your body is boiling like lava. Hitting, jumping, crying, you don't know what you want, need, to do to externalize all of these toxic feelings. Never in your life have you felt more used, humiliated.

You knew he was an asshole, of course. Everyone does, but hell he fired you ! After years of being his toy !

You understand why people in Gotham are crazy. You understand why they suddenly breakdown and fall into crime. Their life, just like yours, was wasted by some self centered prick like him. Some self centered prick who are not even much richer than you, but think they will be when disrespecting you.

Your face isn't even warm, it's seething.

Your life is flashing before you, old friend, family, home, Mike. You won't even be able to pay your rent ! Of course chaos would be loved in a city where trash rules. Why the manifestation are so violent, why insecurity and banditry are prominent ? Because everyone is tired but nobody is listening. Because nobody wants to talk, they think they're at the top of the food chain.

And he won't change his mind. You're fired, that's all. Nothing can alters his decision. It's too late. He probably just created some poor excuses to get you out, you know it. Because you're not a criminal, and no one is giving away 600 000$ for your ass; he's lying. It's too farfetched.

You muster the calmest voice you can get while in such a boiling state, and God knows how hard it is. Wasting more time here is useless, he'll pay but not now, and not by you. You have a new problem: you need to find a job.

-Why don't you kill yourself, Tony ? Right now ? your eyes were empty against his outraged ones. That's why your wife left you, by the way. That's why she left you and took your damn kids. You don't even deserve to live, really, kill yourself, jump, it'll be better for everyone."

You shrug and turn away to never come back. You really hope he disappears forever.

And without anything else to do with your day, you went back home, body functioning by its own. With no diploma and no driving license, how were you supposed to find a job ? You had little experience, mostly having worked in little jobs everywhere. Cashiers, cleaner, babysitting, gardener (you really just cut bushes and mowed the lawn), security guard, fuck, you did it all. Plus, you have a second job and companies hate to arrange their schedules according to yours, in their point of view, you're the desperate one, you should manage your life.

It was safer to wander in Gotham now, the sun was bright in the sky. It was a clear day, really pretty. A shame you couldn't enjoy it.

You open the always creaking door of the building, feeling the freezing temperature inside. Truly a mystery, though a benediction in the hottest summer. A night out and it's like you already don't know this place anymore. You stand in the middle of the hall, staring at each crack in the walls, each suspicious stains, inhaling the disgusting smell emanating from it all.

Yeah, you hate this place.

Sighing and rubbing your tensed shoulders, you approach your mailbox. Opening it, you're pleasantly surprised when no cards is in sight. Maybe he finally got bored ? Your reaction back at the bar probably wasn't what he expected, not satisfying enough so he gave up. You hope so.

What's inside however is a A4 white sheet folded in two. Thinking a neighbor might have wanted to contact you, you open the paper. Yet, on it, the photo of your identity card in huge format, above it, your whole legal name with just below a price, written 'wanted' for treason. A chill run down your spine.

Okay, that is not funny. What the hell ? Did Tony did that ? If yes, how and why ? You pass your hand on your face, harshly rubbing your eyelids to wake you up. This is a joke, everything's a joke.

An echo brings you back on earth when someone goes down the stairs, upon seeing you, your neighbor halts. You offer him a tight lip smile out of pure politeness, which is a an act he does not even try to imitates as he eyes you as if seeing an animal. Do you look that bad ?

Awkwardly, you shift your weight on your feet to ease the tension growing in you. Why is he still looking at you ? The man, even though you were already well far away from him, distances himself and instead of going straight to the door to leave, bothers to make a detour in order to skirt you completely, without daring to approach a millimeter. Does he think you're going to bite, or what ? You two have talked in the past, briefly sure, but still. Fuck, his behaviour does not comfort you one bit.

When the door shut, you're left standing alone once again.

Things are definitely going in a direction you don't appreciate, you may need to hurry up before something really bad happens. Your hand fetches your phone in your back pocket, calling Sean. When he answers, he does not even bother to greet you.

"You okay? You left really early. You're at work ?

-I got fired, long story. I really need your help, again. I'm truly sorry I myself don't quite understand what's going on and... you stop your ranting, breathless and a lump in throat.

-It's okay, really. I don't mind. Tell me everything, how did you get fired ? Why ?

You called him for several reasons. The first being that he's kind of the only friend you have. The second being that Sean's family know people. They're all criminal at different degrees, whether it is gang leader, small thief or hitman. He's the only one actively trying to live an honest life.

-It's complicated and I'm still pissed about it. you tell him seriously, walking in circles in the hall. I have a question and I really need your answer.

-Not stressing at all. He tries to ease the mood, in vain.

-Am I wanted ?

Sean doesn't answer for twenty seconds too much. His silence is starting to worry you, why isn't he saying anything ? Is he confused ? Does he know ? Please, may he not hide something from you. Wanting to distract yourself, you take the stairs to join your flat. Your fingers were creasing the paper sheet in your hand so hard you could have ripped it.

-In like, he finally starts with a strained voice, a personality kind of way ? Relationship ? He chuckles awkwardly while you frown. Well, no offense but uh, I don't think I am attracted to you, I like you but I wouldn't say I want you, you know ? But you shouldn't be insecure, you're a really great person you know, and I mean, you're not ugly so...

-Sean, what the fuck ? You finally cut him when it hit you that he wasn't answering. You were on the floor just below yours, wanting to walk and not quite go home for the moment.

-I'm sorry, was that mean ? That was definitely mean. He clears his throat. Listen, what I meant was...

-No Sean I'm not insecure, everything's fine. I did not mean... Argh ! You're in this kind of environment, you should know !

-What environment ...?

You want to pull at his hair and shake his head back and forth to punish him for being so stupid. Or maybe you were just not being clear, it was surely that. You were incredibly stressed. Traveling between the different floors or the building to stretch your legs.

-Like, criminals, mafia, I don't know. It's... You sigh, your anger dissipating when you realized you were being a little harsh to him. Weird things keep happening to me and I think I'm going crazy for thinking I may have a price on my head.

-Oh, wanted wanted. No because I thought... He coughs. Never mind. I can definitely tell you that. But honestly, odds are low. No offense but you have nothing to give to anyone. You don't have a lot of money. So I don't think anyone wants you.

Damn.

-Why do you think that anyway ? he asks.

Very briefly, you explain to him why Tony had fired you, still using the stairs and floors as a distraction. Of course, you then told him about the paper you found in your mailbox and the weird encounter with your neighbor.

-I'm just really fucking lost, Sean. I'm sorry, you've been nothing but nice to me and I keep snapping at you, I-I don't know what's going on.

-You're freaked out, it's normal. I don't blame you. I'll help you, send me the wanted poster you got. Maybe it's fake."

Of course, you tell him. You'd do pretty much anything to get out of this situation. You want it to be fake, but there's just an accumulation of bad things that tend to make you believe it's true. Looking around you, you notice to be on the last floor of the building. Flattening the paper sheet back, trying to erase all the creases, you lay it on the dirty floor of the hallways. You tear your phone away from your ear for a simple moment to take the picture. You press send.

You wait impatiently for him to say something, anything. But his reaction is clearly not the one you were waiting for:

-Oh fuck.

-What ? you panic, feeling your heart rises in your throat. What do you mean 'oh fuck' ? Sean ?" But the nauseating ringing of the call being cut short echoes in your ear.

He hung up.

You bite your lip, shutting your eyes as hard as you can. Your fingers find your closed lid, pressing on it as if calming an upcoming headache. What the fuck is going on exactly ? Why did he hang up ? Did you say something ? Did he see something ? You can't keep doing that, nobody answered any of your questions since this morning. You are tired.

You give up. You'll go back home, sleep a little. Research a job in the newspaper and hope for things to get better. Sighing, you walk the stairs once again, only this time to really move on.

Has everyone given up on you ? It feels like it, no one seems akin to want to help you. You never did any wrong to anyone. You always hold the door open to people, you give the few you have to homeless people in the streets. You payed what an old woman lacked in money for her groceries. You work everyday of the damn week, with no holidays.

What have you done ?

Sure, you're starting to break down, you told Tony to kill himself, you yelled at Sean. What the hell ? Never would you have done that in your life. What's happening ? It's getting scary out there, yet, no one's here for you to confide in.

You never should have left your hometown, you punished yourself.

The first thing you do once inside your home is falling head first on the couch. Feeling tears filling up your eyes. You don't fight them, letting them slide freely along your cheeks. After all, it's the good part of having a place to yourself, you get to cry alone in the safety of it.

You'll have to give it up, though. Without necessary money, you'll eventually need to move. Probably find a roommate and live in a red light district.

You spent the next hours trying to read classified ads, key word being 'trying' as your watery eyes didn't allow you to see much. And you ended up watching TV, like you always do. You couldn't fathom the idea of being that alone. When did it all go wrong ? Are you a horrible person ?

The news-woman kept talking and talking without stopping, saying the same things as yesterday and probably tomorrow as well. Inflation, criminality, inflation, criminality. Where were you in all of this ? What about the population ? Where were the solutions ? Is this city really stuck in a loop of chaos ?

The screen now displays a cop in a police station, sharing his feeling and impression about the improvement of the city. You don't listen to him, more struck by what's behind him: a poster on a cork board. Yours. It's your face, with the price, 'treason' shit and everything. The exact same poster you had in your mailbox. The situation is that bad, huh ? Your wanted poster is right next to The Joker one. Is there a link ? Are they hoping to find him after finding you ? They're wrong, then.

You wait, impatiently trying to decipher whether the policeman will talk about you or not. But he does not, so you lay back down on the couch. How does wanted people live freely ? You've been researched for a few hours and you're already going crazy with the feeling everyone's watching you.

Do you even know a criminal in this town ? Well, the only one you do know is Sean. You briefly meet them at the bar, as part of your job. Befriending them is not for you though, so you have no useful information to give the Joker. Then what does he want ?

The doorbell rings through the flat, screaming at you to get up and do something with your life. A chill run through your body, breath stopping for a second out of fear to be heard. For a while, you don't move. Who could it be anyway ? Surely bad news. Now that you're wanted, it could be anyone. But the rings echoes again, forcing you to get up. Slowly and as quietly as possible, you slide to the door. Eye staring through the peephole, you're surprised to discover Sean standing anxiously outside.

How did he get your address ?

Opening the different locks on your door, you however keep the small chain closing it. It wasn't much of a protection to be honest, but you needed to lie to yourself a little bit.

"You hung up on me. Is the only thing you say when your eyes meet.

-I know, I'm really sorry. Are you okay ?

-How did you get my address ? It's weird.

He explains to you how your information are given on your work file. You stand inside, judging him from head to toe. He welcomed you at his place, you have to be polite or you'll really look like an opportunistic. But it's hard when you don't know his exact thoughts.

-Why did you hang up ?

-I talked to my uncle, he has a bar in the center of Gotham. Every criminal goes there, he knows everything.

-And ?

-You're safe, it's false. You're not wanted. He... He didn't see your poster. So it was a bad joke. Silence, you don't believe him. I promise. You're not in danger.

Then why is your face plastered in all Gotham ? Is he completely sure about that information ? You hate to act this way but, it's too late for him to tell you that anyway. False or not, the poster of your head is everywhere. People will try to find you. The veracity of it all doesn't matter anymore.

Though you can't shake that uneasy feeling inside you alerting you of his lie. You saw your face on TV, in a police station. It's not nothing !

-How are you so sure ?

-I told you, you have nothing that could interest such a dangerous man as the Joker.

He's right, on the other hand, something's definitely wrong.

-What do we do, now ?

-You could let me in ? I want to help you but we can't talk if I stay outside.

Halfheartedly, you let him in. He thanks you, admires a few seconds his surroundings before plopping down on the couch. You stay standing even after closing the door shut, crossing your arms on your chest and awaiting his arguments.

Should you tell him you saw your face in a police station ? No, you need to know what he's going to tell you. He's lying, you know it now. But why ?

You thought he could be a friend, turn out you can't trust him that much. Or are you losing it ? Policemen are quite dumb here, they are completely capable of believing everything they see and considering they're desperate to catch the Joker; they could have took your poster as a track.

-What's your plan ? you ask.

-It depends on what you want.

Well, you want a lot of different things. Money, happiness, freedom, family, equality, peace. Right now though, one will be enough.

-I need a job, I can't pay my rent this month otherwise.

-That one's easy. He crosses his arms on his chest, sinking into the sofa cushions. Try ask your bank, they'll lend you some.

-No they won't Sean, I'm indebted. Seriously, did he really think life was this easy ? Did he really think you haven't thought of doing just that ?

He sighs and shrug, crossing his legs, he put his feet on the table. Your eyes are enough to tell him to put them back on the ground. He's a little bit too comfortable for your liking.

-It's these immigrants my friend. We lack money because of them.

What ?

-No, it's just poor distribution of resources. With the ongoing inflation and such, it has literally nothing to do with immigration. You frown, confusion lacing your tone, answering him as if asking a question, because what ? That was so out of pocket ? It's stupid to think like that, it's too easy to accuse others. They're as fucked as we are, you know ? Don't say that.

That's what Gotham thinks ? That each one of their problem is caused by others ? Industries, Government, Politics, they're the one causing all of this. How does someone get to this conclusion ? You thought Sean was good, hell, his family was poor. They survived thanks to drugs and banditry. He's bold to think immigrants are the problem: His family literally embezzles money.

-Jeez, calm down.

Well, it's difficult to be calm towards this kind of stupidity. But at least it keeps you in check, you know who he's voting for. Never trust anyone. It's true you don't know him that well, after all.

-You want my help or not ?

It's harder to see him in the same light as before after this, but if he's the only one willing to help, you can't waste this chance.

-Yeah. You sigh, ashamed with yourself. I need people to forget about me.

-Good, meet me at the back of the bar at the end of our shift. He's not waiting for an answer as he gets up to leave.

-Wow. No ?

He stops in his tracks as you block his way.

-What do you mean, 'no' ?

Is he serious ? With everything you risk ? Criminals at the bar know you, hell, some of them see you every night. No, you are not joining him in the dark in a creepy alley late at night when people want you dead. Also, you need to think a little before jumping straight back to work, it's dangerous.

-Because I don't want to die ?" You need to tell him. "Okay, Sean, I may not understand everything but I know you're lying to me. Am I wanted or not ?

He already lost every ounce of respect you had for him. First with the lying, then with the whole immigrants things.

-You don't believe me ? Is he trying to make you feel guilty ?

-I saw my fucking head on the TV. I believe that's enough proof for me. You cut the conversation straight, not wanting him to keep lengthening things uselessly.

Sean doesn't answer, seemingly hesitating. What is he thinking ? He has to respond. He's constantly trying to avoid the subject and it's getting frustrating.

-That means I'm in danger, right ?

-Yes." he finally answers. Thank God, you think, God why, you also think. "But not because of the Joker. He's not responsible for what's happening to you. All the cards and riddles are from him, yes, but someone saw you two talking at the bar and thought they could get to him by killing you.

You entirely stopped trusting him after he mentioned the cards and the riddles. Because never, in all your discussions, have you mentioned receiving these. He knows too much.

You don't bring it up, of course.

-Explain.

Who could have told him about the riddles, if not you ? The one sending them ? Yes, but Sean's terrified of him. Plus, he couldn't talk to him, even if he had the courage to. It's the Joker, from what you understand, you don't approach him easily. He's not the small local criminal. He's something more.

-The Joker's well known. Everyone wants to defy him. And someone saw you.

-Who ? you ask, finally getting some well deserved qualitative answers.

-His name was, uh, Korej I believe.

-Ko...Rej... you repeat, unimpressed, frowning.

Is it you or does it sound vaguely similar to Joker, but with the letters all mixed up ?

-It's his pseudonym." He hastily answers. "But his real name is John, he lives in the richest part of Gotham. He's a mob leader. He fucking despises the Joker, that's why his name is Kojer.

-Korej, you corrected.

-Yeah, it's difficult to remember. It's quite the shitty name.

He really think you're dumb, right ? You clasp your hands together, catching his drifting attention.

-Okay, well, thank you for everything Sean. It was a pleasure, truly. But now I'm gonna ask you to leave.

-You don't believe me ?

No, no you don't. Everything he ever said to you since he first came here was either weird or false. And sometimes weirdly false.

-Please, leave my house.

You'll go to the nearest police station, ask for help. And if nobody helps you, you'll find a way out of here. This city is dead anyway, there's nothing for you anymore. It's too late.

-Don't you want to talk about it ? he asks hurriedly, displaying his open hands in the air as if ready to grab your shoulders.

-If you want us to talk, okay, you yield. But choose somewhere safe, with a lot of people. I am not joining you at the back of the bar at night where everyone could kill me.

You're going crazy. Why are you even accepting this ? It's not a dream, nor a joke, you really are wanted. People want to kill you. There is money on your head. Sean is deep in thoughts before getting the enlightenment he needed, suddenly vigorously saying:

-Shopping center.

-What ?

-Let's meet at the shopping center, in two hours. I have things to prepare, people to call. You have my number, I'll call you. Is it good for you ?

His behaviour is screaming danger, on the other hand, a rendez-vous in a crowded shopping center at 3PM is not as risky as the bar. And if things turn bad, you still have a chance to run away, hidden in the mass. You hope the things he'll prepare will help you, and not worsen everything.

"Okay. You yield, once again.

-Thank you so much, he exclaimed." Why is he thanking you ? "You're a real sweetheart. It will be worth it."

And with these last words, he left.

You won't go. Of course you won't go damn, you don't want to die. He's so suspicious ! Why so much relief ? He's the one supposed to help you, you're not doing anything for him. You absolutely changed your mind. Yesterday, he was that nice man who saved your life, welcoming you home warmly. Today, he's, well, you don't know who he is anymore. You want to understand, discover what's wrong, but at the same time, it's not yours to do.

Fuck, you need to empty your mind. It's tiring, to be suspicious of everyone, to always have to thoroughly think about everything you do. You plop down on your couch, grabbing the remote and turning the TV on. There's a cartoon going on. Tom and Jerry, a cat chasing, or at least trying to, a mouse. But the mouse's well smarter than the cat. 

Each time he thinks he'll catch it, the mouse finds a way to turn the situation to his advantage. Because in fact, the cat will never win. He has the illusion of strength because of his height, when the mouse is vicious, malign. 

Also, if the cat caught the mouse, well, the show wouldn't have any interest anymore. 

On the screen, the mouse finds a way to slam the door in the cat face, who's dizzy. To illustrate it, stars and birds are rotating around his head.

You don't know why the mouse does all this, maybe to survive. The small animal found the comfort of a warm house with good cheese and doesn't want to leave. The cat, however, is forced to chase it all day. As his owners force him to. It's his role, as the house guard, to chase rodents. Otherwise, he'll be replaced. 

You have to be really damn fucked for you to start analyzing a stupid cartoon. 

Jeez, it's a cat chasing a mouse, it's silly, it's fun to watch. You don't think, just turn off your brain and have fun. Why can't you do just that ?

Sighing, you change channel, trying to find something worth watching. You end up watching the news, it keeping you grounded. It helps you think you're not the worst case, that there's always worse somewhere. It's deeply selfish, but hey, you can't do much about it. Your life is pretty much ruined at the moment. 

What's today's problem? Well this time, the subject is centered around climate change and its catastrophes.

"Global warming. Today, in Spain, alarming news. The national temperature has increased considerably by 46°F (5°C) since last year. The Spanish are revolted, the world is encountering a record in warmth. Their main claim, she reads her notes, "It's summer's weather when we're in autumn." She briefly gulps her saliva. "Indeed, the local heat reached 86°F (30°C) while 73°F (23°C) at night. IPCC's report is alarming, something has to change. Is the world government going to act ?" She quits her serious tone and changes the subject. "Local news; what's happening in Gotham today ?"

Ah, here you go. You turn up the volume. 

"Earlier in the main avenue today, several store signs were vandalized by a group of masked men, it is thought to be perpetrated by an illegal organization. It's a real raid that happened, terrorizing the passers-by and owners. The identity of the delinquent stays unfounded. We know that the police department is currently working on..."

You mute the TV. Vandalizing stores, now ? They didn't even steal anything, who does that ? On the screen, a replay of surveillance cameras showing masked men running, pushing people and only stopping to draw weird shapes on a few of the stores. It's bad, but not quite as bad as your case. Putting the sound back, you're perfectly timed with the conclusion of the event. 

"Where is Batman ? Has the vigilante abandoned our city ? We hope for his prompt return in time for him to apprehend the Joker." 

Batman, right. You forgot that man was even existing. While some wonder who is hiding behind the mask, you're left questioning yourself on which side is he. If he's with the cops, is he a good or bad man ? Police is part of the problem, certainly. But Batman sometimes helps people, although you never encountered him yourself. But is he really with the police ? 

Who is he working with ? And why is he what he is ?

"Whatever... You rub your eyes."

Why do you even keep thinking about that, it's not your problem anymore. You're leaving. Gotham has nothing left for you. Batman can do whatever he wants, for all you care. He doesn't know about your insignificant existence, why waste it thinking of him ? 

But are you really leaving this place, though ? 

Are you really about to leave your life and flee like a coward ? Yes, is the obvious answer. You could think about it, is the less obvious answer. 

Yes, your life is at stake. On the other hand, Sean could really be useful as you're still in danger as long as you stay in Gotham, he's a considerable ally in this story. And not only Sean but his family as well could help you. 

You know about his aunt. That woman is quite well known. A powerful gang chief. You could pay her to get escorted outside of Gotham. You're already indebted anyway, you have nothing to lose anymore. Moreover, nothing guarantees your safety once outside of Gotham. If the Joker is as feared as shown in the media, changing city won't be enough. Which is why you need to clear the problem directly from the root. 

Okay, you won't lose anything in going, right ? Maybe your life, but it's worth a try. You'll join Sean. Yes, you'll join him. 

When the time arrived, you couldn't shake that uneasy feeling taunting you all while preparing yourself. What if someone chases after you ? What if you get kidnapped ? You won't, of course you won't. Sean will be there when you arrive. He's dissuading enough. He's a big man. 

You found yourself before the gigantic mall before even being able to process it. It was crowded, people entering and getting out every second. For a moment, your eyes search for Sean in the rabble only to find no one. He's probably inside, it's safer. 

Tightly holding the hood stuck on your head, you stare intensely at whoever crosses your path, trying to gain enough courage to finally enter the building. 

It's scary to be wanted, the displeasing impression everyone's looking at you is suffocating. You could get killed, right now. Abducted, even. 

When the automated doors open, you're greeted by the cold air conditioning. It's autumn, why the hell would someone want to freeze to death ? 

Checking your phone, there's still no sign of Sean. He couldn't possibly stand you up, right ? He's the one who insisted for you to come. It wouldn't be logical. He's just late.

You can't really afford to be waiting in your situation, every second matters. You don't know what will happen. And, yeah, you're kind of starting to freak out. You don’t know where your wanted poster ended up. Maybe you’re already dead, and, shit, you're alone in such a vulnerable position. Fuck, why did you come ?

You’re trying to stay rational, thinking of every possibility as to why he’s not here. You nod your head to yourself, trying to ease your nerves. He'll come. You just need a little patience. He said he needed to prepare things beforehand, that's why he's late. He's late because he'll help you. 

You miss the mall, it's been long since you last came here, too preoccupied with your two jobs. You used to like watching people but quickly stopped. First, you once or twice made an awkwardly long eye contact with a man who then wanted to beat you up for provoking him, "like a pussy". Then, the second reason is that people are just... Mean. You'd look at a pretty woman only for her to spit on the ground. In the street is already disgusting enough, but the mall ! You'll look at a man hugging a woman, just to realize that they both don't know each other and that he's drunk out of his mind. 

Maybe you do need to get out of here, actually. 

Your phone still hasn't buzzed, you need to do something with your body or you’ll go crazy. It’s obvious staring daggers at your device every second won’t help. He's not here yet, you need to accept it and wait. You'll walk a little to not get noticed, your tensed and motionless body language is screaming suspicious and people are starting to side eye you. 

It’s only natural of your legs to start bringing you to the places you used to go to, only to realize that one of your favorite stores closed permanently. Of course, with the crisis. It’s not surprising. 

"Fucking morons..." Mutters a man to your left. Upon looking in his direction, you meet the owner of the voice standing on a stepladder, trying to energetically scrub with a sponge his store's sign. Key word being 'trying' as it's not successful. 

Right, earlier's vandals. 

He's cursing to himself, scrubbing progressively more aggressively the almost intact big black 'O' tagged on the sign mocking him. 

"Can I know who did that? asked your curiosity. 

-Fucking assholes, he answers without even looking your way, that's who did that. 

-What do they looked like ?

-No idea, he grumbles. They all had that stupid mask on. All white with some blue and red. No idea what that was supposed to be. Ask the other owners if you're so interested, but you're late. Journalists already left. 

Oh, right. He thinks you’re a journalist. 

-Thank you, have a nice day sir.

-Yeah yeah…”

You heard several stores were vandalized, where are the others ? Letting your legs wander, you get your answer a few meters/feet away. A sign is hanging by an electric thread. 

It’s a shoe store, but its signboard was now displaying a big black 'O'. You lift a brow, confused about its meaning. Usually, tag either insults or convey a message. Anyhow, there's a sense. Now though, you can't quite pinpoint it. O, what starts with an O. Optimism, oppression, obedient omelette ? It can be anything. Maybe it's not a letter, but a signature? 

Two stores away (you see it out of the corner of your eye) another of these is vandalized, this time, a bold 'B' was written. What word could this correspond to? B for Batman ? It's not a word, mostly a name. Baby, maybe. Bomb, bag, anything. Hell, it could even be badminton for all you know. 

Next letter is directly after the previous one, a 'S' hiding the dress logo the sign was exhibiting prior. The paint is dripping a little and one or two drops can be seen on the ground. 

"Those damn scum." a man grumbles, who you think might be the owner of the poor store. He crosses his arms on his chest, looking up disapprovingly. 

You ignore him, now thrilled by all of this. You want to discover all the tags. It's not like you have much better to do anyway. Sean still hasn't answered you. You know what to do to wait: find words for each letter. S makes you think of sabotage, skull and soup. 

You see the next letter from afar, this time, an "E" welcomes you. Though, this one was partially erased. You guess the owner found the right product. It's now possible to read the sign and enjoy the sweet sight of what seems to be a sex shop sign. Is it even legal ? There's kids coming into this mall. Anyway, a lot of words start with E; Electric, Ebola, education, eagle. 

You don't find the next letter right away, needing to walk a little to find it. But when you do, you're weirdly excited. It's just a bunch of words on some signboards, yet, it's fun. Like an orienteering race. But mostly because you don't get to have much fun today, and this being out of your quotidian, it's easy to be ecstatic.  

Further away, it's not one but two letters that greets you; two "S", entwined like snakes. Shit, is it a nazi kind of tag ? It looks like the police's symbol there was back then. If that’s the case, you don’t find this as exciting as before. Not a good thing to write. There's already so much chaos here, you pray nazis are not going to be added to it. You think of the word 'Swiss' for this letter.

Next letter is an 'I'. Investigation, investment, ice. A woman bypasses you, hitting your shoulder with her. You squeal out of surprise, the woman doesn't even notice you. What a shitty town. You check your phone again, making sure Sean didn't try to contact you. No reply. 

Walking ahead, the next vandalized store needs you to turn to the left to be seen, it's an 'O', again. But you don’t have the time to think of words that you already see the next letter. It’s a ‘N’. Night, Nemo (as in the movie) and nuisance. You already found words starting with ‘O’ anyway. It seems to be the last one as you walk and turn but no others appear. Disappointment lingers, sad it ended so soon. 

What is it, does it form a word at the end ? Like street art ? Maybe, a shame you already forgot all the previous letters. It was fun, though. You'd do it again, it's entertaining. Like a track game where you follow a path. Vibrations are bringing you back to reality, rushing to take it, you rotate to leave the place in order to find somewhere calmer. In your haste, you bump straight into someone. You freeze for a second, phone in hand.

They’re wearing a mask, a clown mask on their black hair. And a really ugly one. It’s shiny, like plastic and it surely is. Their eyes are the only thing you see through the holes. Whoever that is is staring right into your damn soul. Their eyes are empty, so empty you might think they’re on some kind of drug. The big red nose in the middle of their face is mocking you, laughing at you to be scared of something so ridiculous. Two small tufts of green hair are standing on each side of his head, the false bloody teeth drawn on the mask is the final touch that tells you to leave.

“Sorry.” you mumble, avoiding eye contact.

Your hands are holding your phone so tightly that fear strikes you that you could actually break the screen. The clown does not move when you walk past him, and you realize right then and there that they were well too close to you for it to be normal. You hate clowns, you hate them so much. All of this because of that stupid Joker. That person probably wasn’t even related to him, maybe he was one of the vandals. You don’t know, you don’t want to.

When you pick up Sean’s call, he apologizes for being late and plans an area for you to meet. You’re before the sex shope tagged by the “E” by the time Sean joins you. You’re not as convinced as before to destroy the problem from its root after the clown encounter. You’re not a hero, not a criminal. You’re nothing, you don’t have anything to prove to anybody. You should leave.

“You okay ? You look like you saw a ghost ? He laughs, but he’s not your friend so you don’t.

-So ? Got out much more coldly than you intended it to be.

-Jeez, you’re impatient. I’ll help you, I told you I would, right ?

You did, doesn’t mean you really will. You cross your arms on your chest, approaching him for him to hear you more clearly.

-Do you have any information ? Ways to get me out of here ? To resolve this ? Anything ?

He sighs, stepping back as if you’re the plague and looking elsewhere in the crowd. He seems conflicted, forehead creased by his worry.

-I can’t tell you now, walls have ears.

-Then why the fuck would you tell me to join you here ? If you’re so scared to be spied on, we could have continued this discussion at my place.

Your tension is building up. It’s fucking frustrating to talk with him. He starts teasing you with interesting information, then, he retreats and acts as if nothing happened and you’re just impatient. He told you to come here, he told you he’d help you.

-At least answer my questions, you plead, I don’t even know who… Who is the Joker ? Who is he exactly ? He physically tensed, his shoulders literally hunched forwards. What the hell ?

-Well, uh, it's complicated.

Damn, even that couldn’t be answered. Why are you still here ?

-What do you mean it's complicated ? Is he a terrorist ? A thief ? A gang leader ? A serial killer ? It's a simple question.

-He's a little bit of everything, truly.

Why does he always seem so nervous talking about him ?

-Sean for the love of God, he’s not here ! people are starting to look in your direction, but you couldn’t care less. You can calm down, he won’t kill you ! You gotta breathe a little, man. Aren’t you the one who literally told me he wasn’t after me ? It’s not the first time you’re lying to me and I’m starting to lose it. Why am I here ? Tell me, why are we fucking here if you’re not gonna help me ! Who is this man and what does he want ? Why does he want to kill me ! It’s…” a gunshot whistles in the air, cutting you in your sentence straight away, screams erupting from all sides.

Your body acts before you can think, throwing yourself on the ground. It’s hard to understand what’s going on, but in a way, you don’t try to. You get up quickly and lose yourself in the running and yelling crowd. Your paranoia is not helping, was this gunshot aimed at you ? Sean is somewhere in the mall, but it’s too late. You gave him a chance, he wasted it.

Another gunshot echoes, followed closely by the sound of a glass breaking. Your senses are overwhelmed; names, insults, orders are being yelled. Is the Joker here ? You need to get out of here, now. Bodies are pushed against yours, your clothes are being tugged on. But when you were about to reach the exit, someone harshly grabs you out of the crowd, pulling you aside. It’s panic in your head, survival instinct kicking in. You yank your arm out of the person’s hold but freeze upon seeing Sean threaten you with a gun.

“Sean, you start with a shaky voice, what the fuck ? his eyes are cold, you don’t recognize him. He looks at you as if you're nothing, as if you're no one.

-He’s here, he states, looking paranoidly to the sides. He’s… He’s going to kill me if I don’t bring you to him.

-Bring me to who, Sean ? But you fear you might already know.

-The Joker.

Of course he’d betray you. Who are you kidding ? You knew, you knew he would trap you. Your eyes can’t leave the sight of the gun barrel, following each of its movements. He’s shaking, you realize. Is he scared, hesitating ? Or motivated by a hatred so pure he can’t even control his own feelings ?

-Sean, you try nonetheless, he’ll kill you either way okay ? He’s a sadist, we can… you gulp, throat suddenly burning dry. We can leave together, we’ll leave the city and…

-You don’t understand, do you ? He’ll track you, he’ll track us down. And then, he’ll slaughter us like pigs. You hear me ? He’ll slaught…

-I get it ! I get it ! you scream, shutting your eyes in order to erase those images from your head.

How can you even change his mind ? You doubt he’d fold with some speech about your friendship. It’s not like you two were that close to be honest. Sure, you liked him but that changed since the beginning of the Joker catastrophe.

-He promised me money, he explained himself. As if you’d forgive him after hearing his justification. A lot of money. You can’t understand what it’s like to… when you see him lower his weapon, you interrupt him, drived by your anger.

-How can you be so stupid ? He was, he truly was an idiot for believing the Joker. You haven’t known that beast for long, but each time someone defined him, it was always along the lines of wicked, treacherous, vicious and ruthless. So yeah, he was stupid. Was your life worth something as insignificant as money ? Has he ever liked you ?

-Shut up ! I’m done living like a fucking tramp !

Tramp is a big word coming from him, daddy pays him everything ! You’re tired of his tantrums, he is a grown man, ten or fifteen years older than you and he’s acting like a child. Suffering is your quotidian as well, but you would’ve never betrayed him. In fact, that is your problem. You’re not a scumbag like him, that’s why you can’t stand him. You have no value similar to his, if he even has some. By what right does he think he can use you to get, what, a few dirty money ?

If you're going to die, at least you'll die telling him every resentment you had towards him.

-You think I am happy ?! Your life’s better than mine ! Fuck you Sean, you’re an asshole ! You’re a fucking asshole ! You’re the one that should die !

-Shut the fuck up you whore !

A burning pain sliced through you along a sharp sound, legs losing all strength and making you fall on the ground. Your ears are ringing and your breath is cut for a few long seconds. What happened ? Is the first question popping in your head, but the atrocious pain coursing through your leg answers you. Your hand touches your hurting limb, but retreats it instantly at the pain. So you look down.

Blood, there’s blood everywhere.

It’s yours. It’s… It’s your damn blood, you’re bleeding. You have a hole in your leg and it’s gushing out blood. He shot you. Fuck, oh God, oh God, you’re bleeding. You’re fucking bleeding and it hurt like hell. It hurt so damn bad, why, why did he do that ? Your eyes are stinging and soon, tears fall down your cheeks. Are you going to die ? Here ? With nothing accomplished ? Alone ? Shot by the only man you thought was your friend ?

-I believe alive was written on the contract.

You recognize that voice, you hear it in your nightmares.

-Joker ! I… She tried to run away, I had to immobilize her !

It’s weird, your body is exhausted, yet, the pain is keeping you well awake. Your head is heavy when you lay it on the dirty ground of the mall. Eyes trailing slowly to the two men talking. Finally, he’s here before you. He’s shown himself. Even if it’s only the second time you see him, you talked and heard about him so much these past hours it feels like you’ve been with him for months. And maybe you were, in a way. Sean walks past you, not glancing towards your drained body on the ground. He’s scared of him. He plays the big man with you, but he’s a little bitch.

How is Sean, a man built like a fridge, so terrified of someone so ridiculous as the Joker ?

Who is he ?

The pain in your leg makes it feel numb and at the same as alive as it never been. The Joker sighs exaggeratedly, he tilts his head to the side to look at you. Shivers shake your whole body. Is that it ? This is the man who’ll abduct you ? You’d rather get killed instantly.

-And right on Valentine’s day...” mumbles the Joker.

It’s not, it’s autumn. Valentine’s day is in February, in winter. From your position, police sirens are heard and red and blue lights are flashing, reflecting on the windows. The Joker takes out a gun out of his long purple jacket and aims it towards Sean.

“Please ! He yells. I-I did what you wanted ! She’s here, please don’t kill me ! I’m a hitman, I’ll work for you !

Is he, now ? He's barely a barman.

-Do I look like I'm searching for employees ? He asks, opening his arms and bending his hands for his palms to face the ceiling before looking around him for confirmation. Because I’m not.”

You're torn between relief and horror at the sight of Sean falling to the ground after another gunshot, bathing in his own blood. He did betray you, he brought you here, he brought this upon you, upon himself. But he’s dead. You wished him to, but now that he is you’re horrified.

It’s then that you realize that The Joker is surrounded by his masked goons. Probably the one who vandalized the store, now that you think about it. You walked right into his trap.

“Well ? What are you waiting for ? he asks almost comically. Bring the package to the car !

When several men surrounds you, you're left yelling and fighting to get out of their holds, in vain, of course. The blood gushing out of your hurting limb isn't helping much, anyway. You feel your strength slowly evaporate from you.

Shotguns echoes, but your ringing ears prevent you to precisely locate it. Soon, they throw you in the back of a car and close the door, leaving you in the dark.

Gotham killed you.  

[ransprang]

how about heath ledger's joker and corruption kink? hehehe

Kinktober 2023

Joker x Corruption Kink

Joker’s eyes widened as he smacked his lips in amusement looking down at his phone. You stood before him with your face contorted with worry as your eyes brimmed with tears and cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. “Please keep your phone down…”

Joker looked up at you “this is horrendous, horrible, might I say degenerate.”

He continued “didn’t know you are such a misfit y/n” he laughed loudly chucking the phone at the table in front. You looked horrified, Joker had found your tumblr.

You walked up to him and held his arm “that was supposed to be my little secret…” hoping this won’t make the man leave you. Joker looked you in the eyes his expression suddenly all serious “you’re filthy muck of this society, you could never be one of them. Pervert.” He smacked his lips as he cupped your face intimidatingly in his hands, Joker brought his face close, his nose touching yours as he said “Why…so serious?”

You were shocked as the man instantly pulled away and laughed while howling “you really thought that would disgust me? Come on now? I’ve thought worse for Batman.” He continued while getting breathless from laughter.

A sigh of relief escaped your mouth, you smirked back. You were disgusting and he loved that. “What kind of thoughts do you have for Batman?” You said twirling your hair hoping to draw ideas for your next post.

Joker now laying on the couch hopped up with a jolt “y/n you won’t understand them, no no no you won’t” he walked around the room shaking his head.

- “haven’t you seen my content? Of course I would.” You retorted.

Joker smacked his lips now bringing his gaze to your eyes “filthy filthy y/n let me share with you a story.” He twirled and continued “there was once a man who had a fantasy, of tying another to the walls of his house and kissing till both were breathless. As his hot thick penis throbbed to enter the walls of the human in front, he teased his own tip, cuz FUCK the pleasure of other people.” He began laughing.

You looked at him invested, now sitting down on the dining table with your face cupped in your hands. Looking at him starry eyed. “Please tell me more!” Joker immediately stopped laughing as he cleared his throat. “ah yes, well then he rubbed his bare chest on the soft skin, the chest of the one tied on the wall. The friction made his heart beat faster, his Dick throbbed. Ached to be rubbed. Hands struggled against the ropes, as I touch myself and start stroking my shaft, looking at the nude body in front of me.”

Joker stood by the window, staring into the twilight sky. It looked like he was searching the horizon, as he spoke in a low voice “I increase my stroking speed rapidly as I feel the burning desire within my body, the chains clank as the body whimpers. Oh to deprave someone of touch when they want you so badly, I feel my tip tingle as my stomach contracts and I release my thick white cum.” He takes out a cigarette and smokes it blowing the smoke into the light breeze outside the window as his smile is now gone.

You get up fascinated, you have respect in your eyes. You love this man, he inspired you. You ran and hugged him from the back tightly, knowing you were going to write many fanfics thanks to your dear boyfriend. “I love you” you whispered. He continued smoking…as you said again “can we please do this today?” Joker shuffled his feet and turned around to face you. He hugged you back and calmly said “I’ll get the ropes and chains out” As he walked away.

your joker,

admin sav

[black--cherryy]

🃏 Joker x Reader Imagine 🃏

You guys know I love realism so no..The Joker won't cuddle u till u can't breathe.

⚠️Trigger Waring! Contains suicide attempts and depression ⚠️ No smut!

POV: Joker saves u from an suicide attempt

—

You were sitting in your room, with an open window with your back leaned against the wall and one leg hanging out.

You were staring without any emotions at the busy streets. Your apartment was number 20 so pretty far up.

You were heart broken. He (Joker) played a game with you. Played with the most fragile part of your body. Your heart. You thought you finally found someone who truly loved you and even tho the whole world was telling you he was fooling your naive heart, u still loved him and believed in his love for you but you were so wrong.

The past trauma and everything that happened to you plus now this, gave you the last kick. You lost hope for true love. That was the end. You've been played enough.

"I want to free myself from this world..From the pain.." You thought and your body automatically made it's way out of the window, more and more. You didn't blink once, still staring at the same spot you've been staring at for hours.

Your body was hanging out of the window and suddenly you slipped out, just falling with closed eyes..The wind was hitting your whole body.

~Meanwhile~

While Joker was hoping for batman to hit him he noticed something strange coming from one of those apartments. He saw you. Flying down.

He was just standing and watching, thinking of how you would hit the ground but he came to his sense, shook his head and run over to catch you. Standing there with his arms open so you could fall directly into them. You were falling with such speed that it knocked him to the ground.

Instead of feeling the cold ground under you, you felt two strong arms. Your head was laying on his shoulder, making you feel his soft fabric. You still had your eyes closed as one tear escaped your eye and dripped down your cheek. You breathed out and let your weak body sink into his arms. You started sobbing quietly while laying in his arms. You were so scared even tho you wanted to end yourself. Maybe you even regretted it.

He was just staring at you completely frozen before carrying you to a sidewalk and sitting you down.

You opened your eyes but didn't want to look into his. You were really hurt by him but he came back. He came back to save you. Apparently you meant a lot to him as he didn't have a problem with dropping Rachel.

I can't say if he loved you but he cared for you and that's already much for a guy like him. Almost impossible.

Tears were running down your cheek. You closed your eyes again. He stroke with his thumbs over your cheek and your eye bag area, wiping away your tears. He then moved them down to hold up your chin so you opened your eyes and looked into his.

"Whatever that was, don't do it again. Although..One question. Why?" He whispered the why.

You looked away not wanting to tell him but he forced your head up to look at him.

"Don't listen to them.." He figured you were heart broken bc of him but he never meant to hurt you. Everyone manipulated you against him and his actions were weird as he was confused himself. He didn't want to accept that he might have feelings for someone.

He stroke over your lips and came closer focusing his eyes on them while licking his. Then he looked back up into your eyes before getting 0his lips closer to your ear and whispered.

"Wait for me."

He then let go of you and walked away.

You were sitting on the sidewalk, hugging your knees with a soft smile on your lips.

"Even if the whole world is telling you to give up your hopes, don't give up on them. See how the whole world was ensuring you that he won't come back but he came back with the love everyone was ensuring you to be fake." You thought.

You looked back but he was already gone.

"Wait for me.." You repeated it in your head with a smile on your face.

"I will." You whispered while looking at the empty street.

—

Im wondering if someone's gonna read that lol

[sl4sh3rs]

Competitive Love

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

: ̗̀➛ Joker x villain!Reader

CW: obsessive joker, stalker4stalker, m*rder/harmful topics, degrading Batman, fluff;

He thought you two were competing for the spotlight. Competing for his attention… Bruce was dumber than he looked. He thought blowing people’s heads off was a signal of someone trying to get his attention. For the Joker, sure it was, but for you.. You just really wanted to annoy the bat.

The Gotham moonlight illuminated on your face as you taunted the masked man. He could hear your mind-numbing voice, just couldn’t see you. It made him quite angry. “You’re an angry man aren’t you?..” Your voice echoed through the street. “Let go once in a while..” A chuckle added onto your sentence.

“You’re just like him.” The Bat uttered. You seemed to know who he was talking about. An idol of yours, the person he thought was your competition. “Is that a good thing, or bad thing?” You spoke softly, finally meeting his gaze, emerging from the shadows.

“Are you really asking that question?” He looked at you, squinting his eyes. You shrugged your shoulders and the sounds of your footsteps echoed. “Theres no such thing as a dumb question, right?” Your head cocked to the side. A smirk plastered on your face, and he absolutely hated it.

He hated it so much that his fist had to come in contact with your face. Your head jerked back and your feet stumbled on the ground. You touched your bleeding lip, smearing the blood on your lips. “Am I making you mad?” You asked, your gaze focused on his eyes.

The Clown Prince of Crime had eyes for you. His goons would show him the chaos you caused to this city whenever they found new information about you. Seeing yours and his face plastered next to each other on the news always made him grin widely.

Sure, you felt the same exact way. Before you stepped into the spotlight, you were watching the news each night seeing what he did to Gotham that day.

He made sure his goons always had an eye on you. He knew where you were at all times, and you always knew where he was. You two always planned to crash where the other was going, the bat absolutely hated it. He could barely deal with 1 Joker, he couldn’t deal with 2.

“C’mon.. Hit me like you mean it!” You said, shouting at the vigilante. “You don’t want to, do you?.. You know he’s going to show up.” He growled at you. His posture adjusted and he started to leave. “Now that I mentioned him, you’re leaving? You’re a pathetic hero. If you’re just gonna walk away, should Gotham even trust you to protect them?” He ignored you, or at least tried to.

Clapping could be heard in the distance, echoing through the alleyways. You could hear his laughter, the sounds of his goons laughing too. “About time you joined the party.” “Oh I’ve been watching the show for a while..”

“You adore me that much, huh?” He chuckled and walked closer, staring into your eyes. He grabbed your chin, making you look at him (like you already weren’t (ｰ ｰ;)) before wrapping his other arm around your waist.

“I think you already know that answer.” He said, adding a chuckle onto his sentence. You wrapped your arms around his neck, one hand messing with his hair. You could hear one of your female henchmen in the distance whisper-screaming, “It’s about to happen!!”

You grabbed the back of his head and pulled his lips into yours, his grease paint smearing all over your lips. You felt his hands travel up your back into your hair, before he dipped you into another kiss..

Finally, you knew what his lips felt like. His scars felt nice, felt comforting.. Your lips separated from each other and you felt lovestruck, “I’ve wanted to do that for a while.” He stated and you looked at him with a smile.

“I know.”

[anitalenia]

━━ 𝐉𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐑 (𝐃𝐊) ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

⋆˙⟡♡ 𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐒. ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

RATINGS — s , smut | f , fluff | a , angst | d , dark content

none yet…

⋆˙⟡♡ 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒. ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

none yet…

⋆˙⟡♡ 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒. ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

none yet…

[montimer]

can i request a tdk joker and how he would react to a reader who was kidnapped by a enemy, or batman, or something like that. and how he would react to the reader being severely injured from it (like maybe they end up in a coma or something). (but the reader survives) 💞💕

Sure!

Reader getting kidnapped

Tdk Joker x gn reader

Warnings: mention of death(of others) + injured reader,

Hes suprised when he doesn't find you home this late.

Then he founds a letter 'We took y/n,pay up or see the consequence. It won't be nice'

He is outraged. Anyone that gets his way,he will kill them. Hes too angry to deal w/ their shit

He would send his best people to find you,also he will find you himself

After saving you. And ending the kidnappers life not so nicely

His heart hurts to see you,in blood,beaten up. He swears you won't get hurt like this again. You can see in his eyes,like he is about to cry. He won't. But almost.

His voice is so soft while talking to you. Telling you it's gonna be okay. That he will save what's his.

He will patch you up. Help you shower. Anything. He will bring you anything you need.

He will shower ur face w/ kisses. Give you big hugs. Sloppy kisses to ur forehead.

He will come home to you more often. Tell his hench mans to keep an eye on you,and if anything bad happens to his Y/n he won't forgive them.

He will keep you safe.

[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.

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Strange - Joker X GN Reader

Title: Strange

Joker X GN Reader

Additional Characters: N/A

Requested by Anon (Thank you for requesting! this was a cute one to write, I hope you like it!)

WC: 1,177

Warnings: Reader gets lonely, J doesn't like feelings but J likes you, knives mentioned, J trying to be threatening, possessive J, slight angst, and fluff

The night was young. The soft sounds of the city could be heard throughout the quietness of your room. You continued to flip through your magazine, shuffling deeper into your bed, head resting on your soft pillow as you read something about the top ten trending hot topics. Halfway through the article, you began to get antsy, shutting the magazine. You let out a tired sigh, tilting your head back to look at the ceiling. You stared at the ceiling fan, spinning round and round as you just sat there. Looking beside you, you brushed your fingers over the cold side of the blanket; a deep purple, almost royal. It reminded you of him. You looked over at your door, slightly ajar.

You felt an immense feeling of loneliness sweep over you. It was strange that it came with such ease. J was still in his office, working on some plan to terrify and terrorize the entire city of Gotham. You sighed again before pulling yourself from your bed and walking over to your door. Pushing it open you slid your tired feet across the hall, being careful not to actually slip against the hardwood floors as you gracefully headed to J's office. 

Your hand hovered above the handle, hesitating for a moment. J hated to be disturbed when he was working, but you wanted to see him, you needed to see him. Turning the handle, you slowly slid the door open, peeking your head inside. J was hunched over his desk, scribbling down something as he worked. His desk was dirty, covered with piles of papers, maps, and even one of his knives just haphazardly tossed around. J didn't look up as you wandered over, hands clasped behind your back as you walked around his desk, peering down at his work as you stood beside him while rocking on the balls of your feet.

Your hands were itching to touch him, it had been hours since he came home and shut himself in the office, and you wanted to cuddle with your Joker. "Hey," You said quietly as you leaned down and kissed him on the cheek; hopefully not getting any of his grease paint on you. J only grumbled, giving you a glare with his dark chocolate eyes before he resumed his writing. You bit your lip before you threw caution to the wind and grabbed J's free arm, lifting it up as you ducked under; sitting down on his lap. J growled, almost threateningly, before you let yourself get settled, wrapping your arms around his neck. His free arm looped around your waist, holding onto you tightly; possessively.

You snuggled closer to him, the smell of gasoline, gunpowder, and grease paint; It calmed you down and made you feel safe. You smiled softly as you sighed, the tips of your fingers running through his slightly greasy hair. "You need a shower, J… And new dye." You commented only to get a low hum from J as he concentrated on the notes and maps on the table before him. His fingers tapped against your waist, beating to an unknown rhythm as he worked. Oh, how you wished you could see into that brilliant mind of his. To see the inner workings, and find out what he was really thinking. You shook your head lightly before nuzzling into his cheek, inhaling deeply; enjoying the smell of smoke.

His eyes flicked away from his notes momentarily, "You got somethin’ on your face, doll.” He mumbled deeply, before going back to his work. 

You sighed, leaning closer to him, closing your eyes. "Don't care, just want to be close to you."

J clicked this tongue to the roof of his mouth, "Well, aren't I lucky." He trailed off almost sarcastically, but you knew he felt differently as the arm around you gently tightened.

You grinned softly, your chest and cheeks feeling warm before leaning back further, your legs draped over J's. "I missed you…" You mumbled, your lips brushing against his shoulder, the material of his green vest scratching against your lips. Your voice sounded so small, like a child's. J grumbled, going back to his work, scribbling more nonsense down on a piece of paper fiercely. You sat there, your cheek resting on his shoulder as you shut your eyes; sleep slowly, peacefully overtaking you entirely.

~~~

J let out a small sigh, dropping his pencil on his desk as he looked down at you. Asleep in his arms. He felt his heart skip a beat as you shifted slightly in his arms. His fingers reached on their own accord, gently tracing your flushed cheek, watching as your eyelashes fanned over your cheeks; ticklish and fluttering. He scowled deeply, pulling his hand away. He hated the way you made him feel. Hated the way you got under his skin. How easily you could make him melt with just a look or whisper of your voice. Hated how he had no control over himself when you were around him. But most of all, J despised how much he cared about you. He felt weak.

He wasn't going to leave you though. You were his. No one else's. Ever. J gently moved his arm underneath you, scooping you into his arms bridal style before heading for the bedroom. You stirred briefly in his grasp but stayed asleep. The corner of his lips quirked up, eyeing the sight of his white grease paint on your lips and your nose. His eyes glinted mischievously, he'd wait until the morning to say anything. 

Setting you down on the bed, more like tossing, you somehow stayed asleep as J grabbed the blanket and tossed it over you, making sure you were covered. J watched as you softly snored, turning in your sleep to his side of the bed unconsciously. J sighed, heading to the bathroom; shutting the door as he showered and washed off all the grim of the day away. Only fifteen minutes later did he emerge from the bathroom, hair dripping and a small towel around his neck. His purple t-shirt clung to his chest slightly as he tossed the covers open on his side, getting in bed beside you. 

J laid on his back, staring up at the ceiling as he quickly felt you slide closer. Your arm wrapped around his waist, one of your legs hooking onto his waist as you practically laid on top of him. J pursed his lips, his tongue running along the scar lines in his mouth as he thought, before, like he usually did, wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly to him. His breath hitched a little as your hair tickled his chin, smelling strongly of strawberry shampoo. J nudged your head up with his nose before pressing a big wet kiss to your forehead. “Mine.” He grumbled lowly, staring down at you as you mumbled and smiled in your sleep, cuddling further into him. J felt that strange warm feeling wash over him again, filling every empty space he never knew existed. 

[misfitgirlwrites]

I've been thinking about going through some old stories and re-writing them! Why not start with the one that put me on the fucking map 🤸🏽‍♂️

If I made a x reader version of We'll Laugh Together, would anyone be interested?

[angelkissiies]

Open hand or closed fist

(the joker x reader x bruce wayne)

part 3/?

CW/TW : paranoia, fear, mentions of trauma and injury, some fluff and bonding. other things I can’t remember so please read with caution because this series is not for the faint of heart or minors.

word count : 3136

a/n : my deepest and most sincere apologies for how long this took, im so sorry if it’s not what you expected. I hope you enjoy ! Also I did not proof read bc damn this is long.

part two here

Sharp chills ran down your spine as you hesitated at the door of Bruce’s car. The weather had taken a plunge into the negatives as you’d been recuperating in the hospital, yet the chills weren’t from the harsh cold. It came from the realization that your life would be coming to an end, that you were walking directly into the hands of the man who wanted nothing more than the interface. One life to him meant nothing.

“(Y/n)?” Bruce spoke, hand coming to rest on your shoulder. He’d been with you through the entirety of your hospital stay, making sure you weren’t bothered by the GCPD during your recovery. He wished he could say that was his only angle, to be the support you needed- but if he did that would be a lie. He knew there was more to the story, more he needed to uncover to understand what The Joker could want with you. Was it just a random selection? Or was there something else locking you to the clown, something he couldn’t see. Despite everything, he was the perfect company. Card games and movies every night, lunch and dinner provided by some caterer that was much too expensive, and enough understanding of women to know when you needed some time alone.

His voice washed the intrusive thoughts away, like a bucket of cold water had been poured over your brain. “Yeah, sorry.” You apologized, ducking into the car. It was a nice contrast, seeing as you had begun to go mad at the endless off white of the hospital walls. His car was black, the interior a sleek gray- and it was made by some manufacturer you’d never even heard of. Typical though, he was, after all, a billionaire- it would make sense for him to have something expensive.

Bruce nodded gently, closing the car door with a soft click before coming around to the driver's side. The time with you had been fun, but not at all what he’d hoped. No new information could be expelled from you, nothing he didn’t already know so to speak. His only hope was the time you’d spend at the manor, somehow he needed to get you to confide in him. It made him feel guilty, he cared for you more than he’d be willing to admit and what he had planned felt like a massive betrayal. Some things required a filthy conscience. He slipped into the car, quickly closing the door to fight off the cold breeze. “All ready to go?” He asked, sending over a smile.

It took everything in you not to jump out of the car. “Yeah, we should hurry. We might be able to get there before the snow does.” Your body was ridgid, despite the warm air circulating through the car. You thought of the sleepless nights, jumping at every bump in the night. The persistent feeling of impending doom that had yet to subside in the weeks you’d been away, been safe. Something within you knew that you’d never really be safe, even within the fortress that was Wayne manor.. “I heard from the doctor before we left, they think it might turn into a blizzard.”

The car lurched forward, sending the two of you onto the main road. It was slick with patches of black ice, though that stopped nobody from speeding. The city was more alive than usual, the sound of sirens carrying through the streets as more and more people were bested by the elements. “Good thing Alfred stocked the pantries this weekend, or else, I fear we’d be reduced to cannibalism.” He joked, nudging you gently with his free hand. It was his best attempt, you had to give him some credit.

A light laugh fell from your lips as you threw him a smile, “I don’t suppose Alfred and I stand a chance against you.” It was true, the man was much taller, much faster, and much stronger than the butler and yourself.

“Oh definitely not.” The man boasted, taking a sharp turn onto the desolate road that led away from Gotham and towards the Arkham bridge that would take you directly to the main island. The road was barely ever used now, so much so that the Mayor considered closing off the road completely to avoid vandalism to the old asylum. It was pretty much immediately shot down, considering the other islands surrounding Arkham island would be almost completely inaccessible by car. Bruce was one of the voices opposing the shut down, more or less for the fact one of his family's homes sat on the land. “I don’t think I’d eat you though, you know too much about anatomy- you’d be too useful. I don’t think i’d be able to figure out which parts you can eat and-” He paused, letting out a slight laugh. “And I think I might be thinking about this too much. I promise I'm not a cannibal.”

You looked at him incredulously, letting out a deep belly laugh that sent a shooting pain into your ribs. “Bruce, I don’t think you could hurt a fly. Let alone eat someone.” It genuinely was one of the funniest things you’d ever heard, the man was probably the last person you could see yourself being scared of. The only hindrance in your joy was the aching that followed. Your ribs had taken to a steady throbbing pain, worsening with every deep breath- somehow, no matter what you did or even didn’t do, the constant reminder of the joker nipped the joy you felt.

Bruce had a content look on his face, biting back the urge to make a comment that might out him as the city's vigilante. It felt different after all this time, even though you were still the same person you were before the assault, he could feel something pulling you away from him. A nagging savior complex wanted to fly you away, somewhere far from this shithole of a city, though internally he knew The Joker had no limits to his insanity. He’d scoure the earth until he found his prize heffer. “So, have you been to Arkham Island before?” He asked, filling the silence that had settled thick between the two of you.

The trees passed by in a blur of white and green, the land around the cursed asylum finally beginning to heal. “Once, a long time ago. Wasn’t pleasant.” You responded, hugging your coat tighter as the frosty pane of the window came into contact with your hand. Even after all of this time, even after setting on the fact that Bruce could never know, you still had to resist the urge to confide in him. He’d stuck by you the past few weeks, sparing no expense to get you the best care, the best entertainment, the best company. He’d become a better friend than you’d imagined was possible, yet there was no way you could trust him enough to endanger his life.

Was anything really ever worth a life? Was your life worth this much effort? Why couldn’t you just end all of this? Whatever that might entail. Whether it be seeking The Joker out to live your life as he saw fit or taking matters into your own hands. Both were equally horrible outcomes, though they both seemed to be endgame. Which was the both of two evils, and would you ever be sure?

From the road you could make out the silhouette of a looming fence, the dark silver poking out of the snow like a sore thumb. It looked old, dated in style- which solidified your fears. This house wouldn’t be as protected as Wayne Manor would've been, sub par security from back before the Wayne’s were murdered and a lock and key gate made for a bad situation. Your eyes focused in on the tire tracks that laid ahead, the snow packed down where Alfred had arrived a day earlier. You had to admit, the idea of seeing the old man again lightened your heart. He had become a close friend during your stays at the manor, offering you tea whilst you worked on repairing the millionaire or steaming your coat without asking to make sure it would be warm for you before you left. His kindness was unmatched for the most part.

As Bruce parked outside the gate, he dug through his pockets- pulling out a key the size of an iphone before pushing his door open. “Just one second, the locks on the place haven’t been changed in awhile, so key it is.” He smiled, stepping out into the nippy winter air, the car door closing behind him. The man felt uneasy, though he played it off to his best ability, the creeping feeling of uncomfort being chalked down to your curious eyes that peered at him through the windshield. His hand shook slightly as he pushed the large metal key into the lock, turning it with a great deal of force before it gave way the the locking mechanisms yielded. The smell of copper filled his nostrils, making him cringe before pushing the gate inwards, as he mentally noted the fact that this place needed an upgrade. Truth was, he hadn;t been back here in years. The old place had been left to the elements, and with the sight of the manor, he definitely could tell the wear and tear was taking over the exterior.

The manor looked much larger than most would’ve imagined, built of stone and dark oak- it resembled that of a hunting lodge in the mountains. The rough stone had been left to the forest as moss began to creep up the sides of the building, creating a beautiful entanglement as if the history of the island had not tainted it yet. As you squinted towards the house to see more, a figure in the window caught your attention. The small lengthy frame belonged to Alfred, who stood waving the two of you in from the warmth of the manor. The sight brought a small giggle to you, imagining how long he had been there trying to catch the attention of the billionaire.

Bruce returned to the car only seconds later, causing a huff of freezing hair to rush in- violating the pleasant warmth that had settled on your skin. His hands were shaking slightly and his fingers had gained a bright pink hue from the harsh cold of the gate. “So, what do you think?” He asked, shifting the car into drive as he began creeping down the driveway.

You gave a small nod, letting your eyes explore the property. It was different, to say the least. After being stuffed inside of a dreary hospital room for so long, this was like being in a completely different country. The snow was pristine white, untouched. Unlike the melting, blackened snow you’d seen on your way out of Gotham. The air held silence, thick and looming in the absence of life. From the moment you;d crossed from the bridge onto the island, you’d heard nothing but the soft hum of the engine and Bruce’s voice. It was almost as if Arkham had become completely different in the weeks since your ‘visit.’ It was scary anymore, you could see every abandoned driveway and empty house. Hell, even the snow reflected that nobody else had been out this way, no tire tracks or footsteps as far as the eye could see. “It feels serene out here, It’s really lovely.”

A small smile tugged at his lips as he came to a stop at the front entrance, “I’m glad you like it,” He said, turning the car off with a slight twist of the ignition. “It’s you and me, roomie, till further notice.”

As if on cue, Alfred scurried out of the manor bundled in one of the largest coats you’ ever seen. Anything you might’ve thought had completely vanished at the sight, the poor man could barely bend his arms in the thing making it a rather funny sight as he attempted to open the car door. You let out a small chuckle before opening it yourself, allowing the man the chance to step out of the way.

He graciously took it as he held the door open, “Welcome! I’m glad you two made it safely.” He spoke, offering his hand as you stepped out onto the half frozen ground. The snow crunched under your feet, prompting a small smile from the man before you. “Isn’t it lovely? I’ve been trying to get Master Bruce here to visit for ages.” Alfred let his eyes move to Bruce, squinting as he poked fun at him.

Bruce groaned in annoyance, the hint of a smile evident on his rosy cheeks, “Yeah, yeah. Thanks for that, Al.” He moved around the car, ushering the two of you up the stairs like a cattle dog before the conversation went on any longer. He knew how carried away his butler could get, which would lead to the pair of you getting hypothermia. As the two of you disappeared into the home, he lingered at the front door for a moment, he could feel something. Though there was no reason to, he found himself looking over his shoulder, peering back to watch for a threat. Something didn’t feel right, though maybe it could all be summed up to the feelings that arose in connection with his family's manor, but he couldn’t be sure. After all, the whole reason any of you were here was to ensure your safety. The Joker could be around any corner, watching through thousands of hidden eyes, awaiting the perfect moment to strike- so if there was one thing he knew without a doubt, it’s that he couldn’t get comfortable here.

Upon entering the home, you were hit with the strong scent of apples. It wafted through the hallways from the kitchen, the smell alone was enough to make your stomach grumble.”Alfred, It smells incredible in here, what are you making?” You wondered, taking in the decor of the house. It was definitely fancy, but it looked as if someone had a strong affinity for artwork as more than half of the walls were filled with beautifully painted pieces accompanied with framed family photos.

Alfred chuckled, turning briefly to make eye contact with you. “Apple strudels, they’re one of Bruce’s favorite sweets.” With that, he turned back and led you through a confusing labyrinth of a corridor. After a couple minutes of following the leader, he stopped before the bottom of a staircase which led to the left wing suites on the second floor. “I would accompany you up to your room, but I don't want to risk burning our snack. Your room is the third door down the right hall.”

You could tell he felt guilty, so you gave him a smile, nodding complacently. “Thank you, Alfred. Are my things up there by chance, I was wanting to maybe grab a shower.” During your hospital stay, the doctor was very adamant about keeping your stitching dry- so you’d only been able to shower three times, which left you feeling incredibly gross. The idea of being clean again was enough to make your entire night.

“Of course, The bathroom is also stocked with some things you might need.” He confirmed as he began back towards a door adjacent to the one the two of you had come through. He seemed to know this place better than Bruce did, which didn’t seem as much of a surprise- as he’d been with the family for more years than you could count.

The silence began to set in as you began up the stairs. It was reminiscent of your trek up to your apartment in Gotham. You’d spent months making the most out of the six floor hike up to your place, as the elevator had just completely given out randomly, so this was a piece of cake. Before you knew it, the landing was a few feet away littered with boxes filled with what looked like more framed photos. It was peculiar because the boxes looked old and worn, as if the Waynes had begun to pack up the house long before their deaths had transpired. ‘Not your business.’ You had to remind yourself. The topic had always (and would always) be a tender spot with the duo downstairs. You wrapped your arms around yourself tightly, taking the right turn down the hallway you’d be staying in. It wasn’t hard to pick out the door that now belonged to you, as it was the only one not covered in a thick layer of dust.

Upon first glance inside, you took note of the two bags that sat in the middle of the king sized bed. Undoubtedly, they were filled with fresh clothes and the other miscellaneous things you’d asked to be picked up from your apartment. As you gazed around you noted that the room was warmed by a fireplace, which sat burning behind a grill to keep the debris from entering the room. It all was incredibly beautiful, as the room took a rich red hue. Linens and decor alike were painted in shades of red and black, giving the room a gothic feel. You moved inwards, allowing the door to close behind you with a thud.

You sat down on the edge of the bed, moving to grab one of the bags. As you pulled it to yourself, a small box fell to the floor by your feet- seemingly after being wedged somewhere between your belongings. “Now, what is this?” You asked aloud, to no-one in particular, as you used your foot to bring the thing closer. Once within reach, you took it from its resting place on the floor. It was a small red box that had been tied shut with a white ribbon. It held no markings or branding, which is why you spared no time pulling the ribbon loose and gently removing the lid.

You felt yourself choke, letting the box fall to your feet once more. There was no way, this place was safe. It was Bruce Wayne’s house for Christ's sake. It hadn’t been empty since Alfred arrived yesterday, which meant that whoever snuck this in- was here when Alfred was, how else would they be able to get the box into your things? Your heart was hammering in your chest, eyes jumping down to land on the contents of your supposed ‘gift.’

A small silver chain with a dainty ‘J’ charm attached lay almost hidden in the carpet, the red hue enveloping it like a pool of blood. Inside the lid, which remained on the bed, was a note. With shaking hands, you unfolded it.

God, how you wished you’d never read it.

[love-fictional-ppl]

Miscellaneous Master List

*=smut, !=angst, #=fluff, (16+)= not exactly smut but not appropriate for under 16

[Joker]

[headcanons]

*#Heath Ledger’s Joker as a bf

More coming soon…🙏🏻