#joker x oc fan fic

[rose-and-thorn-fanfics]

THE DARK KNIGHT FANFIC: Joker x OC (Part 6)

Lottie woke up while it was still dark outside. She spent a few moments gazing at the city lights, then got up and got dressed. Slipping on a pastel pink mini skirt, white lace tights, and a white long sleeved sweater, she gazed at admired her appearance in the bathroom mirror. 'Now my mom isn't here to force me to dress like a middle aged business woman. Now I can be myself.' Lottie thought, applying baby-pink lipstick and brushing out her hair. She left the bathroom and took a seat on her bed, sending a picture of herself to the Joker, and then calling Maya Gardner's cellphone. 

     Maya answered immediately. "Oh my god, I've been so worried about you. My mom told me your maid got murdered and your parents disappeared." She said, relieved to be answering her best friend's call. She paused, then asked the inevitable question. "Did you do that?"

     Lottie grinned. "Surprisingly, no. Not this time."

     Maya sighed. "Ok, then who?" 

     "That's not important. Anyway," Lottie said. "I need some more clothes, and was wondering if you'd like to go with me on a shopping spree on 3rd Avenue, no money required on your part."

     "Uh, yeah. But you're saying you're treating? Didn't your mom close down your credit card account?" 

     "It's not my treat, you can thank Gotham's most eligible bachelor for funding our little outing." Lottie said, unable to conceal her happiness. 

     Maya squealed with excitement. "You're one lucky bitch to have Bruce Wayne as your cousin. Are you staying with him right now? I assume you aren't still at your parent's penthouse."

     "Yup! Alright, I gotta go. I'll pick you up when the sun rises. Ok?" Lottie said, noticing a notification of an incoming text from the Joker. 

     "Yay! Alright, bye!" Maya said. 

     Lottie hung up and opened the text. The text read "Enjoying your new accommodations, I see? You look beautiful, doll. -J" She blushed, typing a response. "Only for you. :) Thanks for the birthday gifts. You never fail to surprise me! xoxo" She pressed sent, and it was immediately read. Then the Joker sent her a picture. Lottie clicked on it, zooming in. It was her mother and father with their throats slit, bleeding dark puddles of crimson next to some old boxes in a warehouse. Their faces were painted with white grease paint like the Joker's makeup, with a bright red smile. Lottie blinked, studying the picture. 'He must've done this in that old warehouse a few blocks from the Thrills strip club.' She deduced, then smiled, quickly writing a response. "Nice touch with the makeup." 

     There was a knock on the door of Lottie's bedroom, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. Sighing, deleted the chat and turned off her phone. "Alfred?" 

     "No, it's me." Bruce said through the door. "Can I open this up?"

     "Sure! I'm dressed." Lottie replied.

     The door opened, and Bruce stepped inside, holding a cup of coffee in his hands and taking a seat in the chair by the bed. "I was thinking, and with everything that's happened, I think you should take someone with you when you go shopping." He took a sip of his coffee, then rubbed his eyes, looking exhausted. 

     "Don't worry, I'm going to take Maya Gardner, my friend from University!" Lottie replied. 'Damn, Bruce,' She thought. 'You look like haven't slept in years. Typical bachelor, probably hungover from last night's inevitable partying.'

     "You can bring her, but I also think you should bring someone else too. Someone who is a responsible adult." He said, staring out at the skyscrapers of Gotham as the sun began to rise.

     "Like... who? You look like a zombie, no offense. And Alfred seems busy with who knows what. Those are the only responsible adults I can think of." Lottie said pointedly.

     "I know of someone. You've met Rachel Dawes, right?" Bruce asked. "I feel like I introduced you to each other at an event last year."

     "You mean the District Attorney's girlfriend?" Lottie asked.

     Bruce winced, clearly upset at the mention of who Rachel Dawes was dating. "Yeah. Anyway, She's someone I trust-"

     "-And love ." Lottie added, teasingly. 

     Bruce ignored her comment. "And I really think you two would hit it off. Plus, I'd just feel safer if you and your friend weren't wandering Gotham alone, after what happened to your parents."

     "You know something, don't you." Lottie said, studying her cousin's expression. "Is that why you didn't sleep last night?"

     Bruce looked alarmed. "What? No. I mean, yes. I guess I saw the police report. You would've seen it too if you had been watching tv with me, but you'd already gone to bed." He sighed. "I hate to say this. And I know there's nothing I can really do to make this easier to hear, but your parents were found dead in a warehouse downtown. I suggest you don't look up the details if you don't want to see the disturbing images the detectives took."

     Lottie looked down at her hands, brain going a thousand miles per hour as she tried to figure out what to say and how to act. Her mind was blanking, and she began to panic. 

     Her cousin looked at her with concern. "You knew?"

     'Damn it.' she thought frantically. "What? No! I'm just- I don't know what to say... If I look scared it's because I am scared." She said. 'Scared you'll figure out I don't give a shit...' She thought.

     "I'm scared too. For you." Bruce said, a shadow casting over his face. "But you should be safe if Rachel takes you and your friend shopping. Maybe that'll help get your mind off of it."

     "Yeah... I guess. Hey, thanks for being understanding and caring about me, Bruce." Lottie said, tearing up. The tears had nothing to do with her parents. It's just she hated lying to Bruce for some reason.

     "I lost my parents too, you know." Bruce said sympathetically. "I love you, and I feel responsible for you now."

     "I know." Lottie sighed. "Speaking of which, I told Maya I'd pick her up when the sun rises, so you should probably call Rachel and see if she can come soon."

[thesandsofelsweyr]

20 Questions for Fic Writers!

TY for tagging me @zeroducks-2 😘 Passing to torch along to @blahwesome, @baesonjason, @niphredil-14, @scaryscarecrows, @mrsd-writes, @igotanidea, @artzysyam, @thejasonandsladeagenda (no pressure ofc!)

How many works do you have on AO3? 11 on SandsOfElsweyr, 2 on my other top secret account 👀

What’s your total A03 word count? 47,475

What fandoms do you write for? I've written fic for Dragon Age and Skyrim, but my only published fics are in the Jason Peter Todd fandom 😉

What are your top five fics by kudos? (Only including my SandsOfElsweyr fics)

✧ The Sus Boy Next Door (ao3) 229 Kudos ✧

After coming back from a terrible blind date your asshole neighbor is the last person you want to see right now. He doesn’t have his signature scowl for you tonight, however. Tonight he seems terrified.

✧ Hollowed Out (ao3) 194 Kudos ✧

When Jason saw that photo of Batman and his new Robin, the thin cord of hope holding him together had snapped and he had broken into a million pieces. No one was coming for him. Not one single person on the planet cared whether he lived or died, or how much he suffered, or how loud he screamed. No one except the Clown. He was Joker’s now, and he would say or do anything to get a reprieve from the torment and the pain, even if it meant letting himself be reduced to something less than human.

✧ Remember Jason Todd? (ao3) 114 Kudos ✧

Joker reminisces to Batman about one of the happiest years of his life: the year he spent breaking Jason Todd.

✧ The Wrong Cell (ao3) 96 Kudos ✧

When Harley comes to fetch Batman’s annoying little sidekick from his cell in Arkham Asylum she finds someone unexpected in his place.

✧ His (ao3) 82 Kudos ✧

Jason has been beaten half to death with a crowbar, shredded by barbed wire, strung up for so long his shoulders ripped from their sockets, shocked, starved, branded… It's only a wooden paddle, it can’t hurt more than any of the Clown’s other toys… right?

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? I get behind sometimes but I try to reply to every comment I get. If you take the time to leave me a comment, I'll take the time to give you a reply! Fun fact: I love replying with reaction gifs, hehehe

What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? lol. Almost every fic I write has an angsty ending 😂 I suppose Hollowed Out (ao3) is the angstiest so far.

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Touch (ao3) or Cocoon (ao3)

Do you get hate on your fic? I'm sure I do but I've thankfully never seen it!

Do you write smut? Yes. Badly 😂 But I'm learning! Practice makes perfect~

Do you write crossovers? Personally not a fan of crossovers 🙃

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I know of

Have you ever had a fic translated? Nope

Have you ever co-written a fic? Nope

What‘s your all-time favourite ship? Probably SanSan (ASoIaF). Then there's Shakarian (Mass Effect), Surana x Alistair (Dragon Age), and AK Jay x my OC 💕 Also can't forget AK JokerJay and Thramsay (ASoIaF), muwahaha 😈

What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I don't want to answer this and jinx myself!

What’s your writing strengths? Putting men through the ringer.

What’s your writing weaknesses? Overcoming my perfectionism 😪

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I have to phone a friend!

First fandom you wrote for? Probably Mario? I've been writing for a looooooooong ass time, heh.

Favourite fic you’ve ever written? Hollowed Out (ao3) ❤️❤️❤️

[narrators-journal]

Hi ٩(｡•́‿•̀｡)۶ Can your write a Persona 5 x F!reader with this idea?

So reader workers together with Akechi in both the metaverse and detective work and since she works with Akechi and goes on tv with him a bunch of his fans ship them together and Akechi actually has a big crush on her but she doesn't have a crush on him because she's also part of the thieves and has a crush on Joker so Akechi is super jealous of Joker because Akechi can see how much reader likes Joker, she works at crossroads and is friends with Ohya and also works through Shido too and Shido also sees her like a daughter and doesn't know that she's joined the thieves in Kaneshiro's palace.

She joined in Kaneshiro's palace because Kaneshiro is actually her dad and figure out he had a daughter after he hired a hitman to kill reader's mom because she used to be one of the girls he used to have around him but reader didn't know how bad he was until she heard from Ohya that Joker was looking into Kaneshiro so she went and talked to Joker and convinced him to let her join them in the metaverse and is surprised that she already has a metaverse outfit but she just is trust worthy so the thieves welcome her abord because she gets them into the palace, she also has 2 personas Aphrodite and Peresphone and because she has Aphrodite everyone thinks she is super beautiful and she;s also super powerful because she has two personas she can use at the same time. She also inheirates also all of Kaneshiro's wealth after Kaneshiro changes his heart so she can also pay for all the things that the thieves want which makes them trust her even more. Also Haru has a crush on her because reader saved her dad by pleading with Akechi to not kill him so Okumara has a change of heart actually.

When Akechi joins he gets even more jealous of Joker because reader and Joker are really close and she's basically Joker's right hand woman and helps with all the plans and Joker notices how jealous is Akechi but he doesn't say anything because reader already told them all about Akechi's plan to kill Joker because she doesn't want to betray the thieves and she ends up pleading with Akechi to not kill Joker so when Akechi comes in in the interrogation room he doesn't shoot Joker but actually helps him out because he just wants to help reader that much and reader vouches for him so that the theives don't hate him then they start working on Shido's palace and reader helps them get in and gets them all the letters that they need because Shido sees her like a daughter so she just has to ask. Then when Yaldobath takes over she helps Joker get everyone out of the velvet room because Yaldobath didn't break her spirit and then in the final battle reader gets a third persona who is Nyx and she and Satanael take down Yaldobath together and every one is saved.

How do you think the thieves would think of her?? Would any of them have crushes on her other than Akechi and Joker? 🥺 I would like a oneshot but headcanons are also ok I love your writing!! I'M SO SORRY THIS IS SO LONG THANK YOU 😊

I know you wanted a one shot, but your ask seems to be requesting a big ol' rewrite of the entire p5 plot, which, even without Royal's additions, is a massive game. So, I instead encourage you to write out your own fic! I'm sure it'll be quite the fun read if you do!

As for the ask, I feel like you're lowkey asking for an OC ask, but I can't be sure if you just want a really specific reader, or if you have an OC with this story. So, I just took your ending question and am gonna just do some headcanons or thoughts off of it.

Now, this isn't meant to be 'mean' or anything personal, I'm just taking from what I know of the canon personalities. Which, I admit is probably not completely accurate, but I tried my best. I also can't go through all of the confidants bc I know NOTHING of them, but ye! I hope this makes you happy, and if this was meant to be a big one shot request with an oc, I don't take OC asks. Tho, I do encourage you to have fun and try your hand at writing it for yourself in that case!

Akira: Akira's the hardest to guestimate a personality from. I know for a fact that Akira would be confused and lost at a reader with two different persona, but In canon, he's left kinda blank so that the player can choose the options they like and basically paint him however they want, so beyond that shock, I don't know. But in my head, Akira's a very friendly person when you give him a chance, but isn't trusting. He's been backstabbed by the law system, he's not a very trusting person. So, I do think Akira'd hang onto a shred of suspicion for the reader if they had a metaverse outfit already without a story like Akechi had. And even then, I don't think the thieves exactly trusted Akechi despite needing to work with him. So the reader would fall into a same issue for a good while. It'd be slow going. Especially for being a target's kid while being so eager to help.

Akechi: I. Know very little of Akechi's in-game personality, but from what I know from my boyfriend who's played the game a lot, he's even less social and approachable than Akira. So, outside of using them and maintaining power, Akechi doesn't like anybody. He doesn't like Akira, he doesn't like the thieves, he arguably likes Sae? But he doesn't seem to gt close to anyone since his goal is to take down shido no matter the cost. As for the multiple persona, Akechi would hate the reader like he hates Akira for that. Akira's already a threat to his self esteem as a person, but at least Akechi would feel he has the upper hand with loki. Another person with multiple personas would anger him further.

Yusuke: Yusuke is the first one that would have a reaction beyond shock or rage at a reader with two personas. He'd likely be confused, but his initial reaction would probably be in admiring their beauty and form, likely wanting to draw them. Beyond that, he'd probably go off of Morgana and Akira's judgement for that reveal. He'd likely play devil's advocate for the reader, but they've got a lot of explaining to do. As a person though, so long as the reader is pretty, Yusuke's not going to be an asshole. He's a rather nice guy, if a bit awkward, so he'd be easy to befriend, especially if you let him draw you. Of all the people in the thieves, Yusuke would be one that is likely to crush on the reader if they're artistically appealing at all.

Ryuji: Unlike Yusuke, Ryuji'd be a bit hostile and distrusting from the start. A stray persona user with an outfit already and two different persona? That's a little suspect. However, unlike Akira, Ryuji'd be easier to convince. He's easy going, so with a good enough explanation, he'd be okay with the reader. As for if he'd crush on a reader, maybe. He might crush a bit at the start like he did with Ann, but as time goes on and the reader works more with them, They'd probably go the route of Ann too. Be seen too much as a baby sister or brother, not a romantic option. Plus, he wants to know how you get multiple persona, so he's gonna want to know.

Ann: The reader being a girl would help a lot with befriending Ann. She'd be a little suspiscious, and shocked to find out the reader has multiple persona and is their target's kid, but otherwise she's pretty nice, she'd give the benefit of the doubt. I don't know a lot of Ann's in-game personality, so I can't really go in-depth, but she'd in general try to give the reader the benefit of the doubt and be the first to extend some trust to them.

Morgana: Morgana is admittedly far worse than Akira on the not trusting angle of things with the reader. Not exactly because of them having a costume and awakening so randomly, but moreso because of the dual persona. That's a wildcard-specific thing, normal users do not have more than one persona in his knowledge, so them having more than one would put him firmly on edge. He'd be not very nice to the reader with the whole context of their person. The odd awakening, the multiple persona, and her being their target's kid? I++t would just rub him the wrong way.

Makoto: Makoto would be SO suspicious of a user just wandering around like you. She'd downright interrogate the reader on their awakening and motives, why they have two persona, all of it. She wouldn't quite be astounded or upset at you having more than one persona, Akira has one, so it's not unreasonable. her biggest concern is the reader's connection to Kaneshiro and her help being a trap, not the personas.

Futaba: Taba would be super interested in reader-chan when they meet! Two persona? Yet you're not like Akira at all? She'd definitely hack into the metaverse to investigate. Since she comes after Kaneshiro, she wouldn't really have the instant distrust the others would get. So, she'd be easier to befriend then the others. Though, the reader being Kaneshiro's daughter would be a little sketchy to her, just because Kaneshiro is sketchy.

Haru: Kaneshiro being the reader's dad would actually win some points with Haru. Not that it isn't sketchy and a bit odd, but she's got her own daddy issues. Granted, hers isn't a sleazy, womanizing pimp, but still, there's something to bond over. This would slightly win the reader a benefit of the doubt on their lack of an awakening, especially since Haru's own awakening was odd. She has no stance on the persona though, unable to choose if that's a bad sign or not, but she'd likely go off of Morgana's vibes about it, so she'd keep an eye on the reader. But! She'd also gladly be friends with her as well, maybe just date a little, y'know?

All around, the group would be fairly suspicious and unnerved by the reader and her connections and oddities, but most would give her a chance, and her standing with them is very open to change as time goes on, so I can't say anyone, except maybe Akech's insecure ass, would outright hate reader-chan.

[thejokersenigma]

OC/Reader x Joker - Your Insane Part 3

Hi guys, sorry its taking me so long to get my writing out! My life feels really busy, and yet I'm getting nothing done!

So here is the next part of this series! I am hoping that the next chapter will actually have the Joker in it! haha

Hope you Enjoy!

P.S I would appreciate it if you would leave a comment or something! I feel like my inbox is pretty lonely and I want to know if I should continue this series!

Also, if you have a request just send me a message saying what you want and I'll happily give it a go! Any fandom is welcome!

MASTERLIST

I sighed heavily as I tossed another document on my pile of completed papers to my right before then throwing my pen down next to them and rubbing in exhaustion at my face. I was already feeling the effects of my very early morning start. I peered through my fingers at the rest of the large hall filled with other people’s desks, craning around my good ol’ pillar to get a decent view. Most of the desks were still empty, but the room had slowly filled up since I had arrived in the early hours and a few people milled around, in no rush to start the day.

I dropped my hands and turned my aching eyes back on the still-to-do pile on my left. It was smaller, but it was still going to take most of the rest of the morning at least. I had got here early in an attempt to catch up on the intimidating pile of work I had been so kindly given yesterday. I had hoped that the sooner I got this paperwork out of the way, the soon I could get onto something more excited – or at least the sooner I got some free time to dig further into this Joker character. Plus, there couldn’t be anything wrong with showing I was willing to work hard for this job - earn some brownie points.

Every time the main door opened I found myself glancing around the pillar at it, watching the officers come in for their shift. I tracked the newest man now as he made his way across the large room, I didn’t know the man’s name yet but my procrastinating eyes followed him anyway, until a woman crossed his path and my eyes shifted to her instead as she strode back the way the man had come from. She didn’t exit the precinct, instead she took a left and disappeared down a short corridor before I heard a quiet thud as a door closed behind her. Bingo. That had been what I was waiting for.

I didn’t get up immediately. I didn’t want to seem too eager - after all Hatty had clearly only just come in. Miss Hatty Hawkins, the keeper of the files.

I was getting fidgety as the minutes ticked by, I didn’t want to rush in there as though I had been waiting for her to arrive – although I had been - but I also knew I had a limited amount of time to get what I needed.

I left it 20 agonising minutes before I felt safe to ‘causally’ wander in to the file room.

“Morning Miss Hawkins.” I smiled warmly as she bent over her desk, gathering up a pile of files. She glanced across at me, still bent over.

“Good morning, Fran.” She replied back formally, though not unkindly. She was a polite, rule follower, never questioning what her duties were or how to do them. This might be difficult.

I waited until she had finished her arrangement and had straightened back up. “What can I do for you this early?”

I gave her a small smile at her observation, “I just need all the files you’ve got on the Joker.” I said.

Hatty’s kindly face clouded over, a slight frown shadowing her face. “You know I can’t give you those, Fran, you’re not cleared for them.”

“Oh, no I know!” I said quickly, a look of surprise on my face at the suggestion that I would want them. “They’re not for me, they’re for Detective Bullock.” I explained.

“So why isn’t Detective Bullock here, picking them up?” She asked suspiciously.

I raised a single disbelieving eyebrow at her, “Come on, Hatty.” I said, “It’s Bullock. I haven’t been here all that long, and even I know what he’s like.” Of course, this was all I guess. I hadn’t been at the precinct that long, but I knew the Harvey Bullock character and I could predict his behaviours just from the few brief encounters I’d managed to get with him.

Hatty grimaced at the truth in words, nodding her head from side to side in agreement before she headed deeper into the recesses of the room. I waited patiently at the desk as I heard filing cabinet drawers slide up and shut and the flicker of paper as she thumbed through the folders. Eventually I heard her heals clicking back down the room towards me and she emerged once more clutching a small stack of files.

“These are all the cases he has been associated with.” She told me, handing the pile over, “Bullock already has his general information file.” She pointed out.

I thanked her and headed back to my desk, trying to make sure I was walking like I wasn’t stealing criminal documents.

I got about an hour with the files before Bullock appeared at my desk. I was quite impressed, I thought he wouldn’t be in for at least another half an hour. Maybe he hadn’t actually got drunk last night – as hard as that was to believe.

“According to Hawkins,” He said as he strolled up to my desk, “you have something for me.” He raised his eyebrows in expectation. “That you should have delivered hours ago.” He added with a grumble when I tried to look at him with blank innocence. I rolled my eyes, clearly having been caught and gathered up the files, handing them reluctantly over. “Congrats on your initiative.” He quipped, grabbing the papers from me, “Next time work on your punctuality.” He began to move away but paused, glancing back, “And stay away from this case.” He said grumbled. “I’m sick of saying it.”

I smirked at his back as strode away. “Tough luck Harv, your punctuality was no better.” I muttered quietly to myself once he was out of earshot. If he had actually come to work on time, he might have been able to stop me, but, despite my short time with the random patches of information, I felt like I had gathered something – even if it was just a snippet. Too bad I wouldn’t be able to pull that move again.

Several months later, I might have forgotten the Joker if there hadn’t been several identical hits on hospitals, one a week after the first attack, then several more scattered through the last few months.

But there had been no new information. No new leads. No better idea of what he was after. No idea why he was doing this.

And me? The months I had been working here? All I had been given was more paper work than I had ever had during my years at school. It was getting ridiculous. I knew I was a rookie, but I would be a rookie forever if they didn’t let me get some experience out in the field. The most I had got was a short bought of traffic work a few weeks ago thanks to staff shortage. Admittedly, I would take that over the huge stacks of paperwork that always appeared on my desk each day, but I still craved more.

I continued to try to work hard on the papers – hoping somehow it would prove my worth to the precinct. But I could feel my fuse burning out, and I was beginning to procrastinate more and more, my mind still turning to the unsolved case of the Joker. I didn’t care that I wasn’t on it - I had made my bed with that - but I hated how long it was taking these well experienced, weathered police officers. Why hadn’t they found anything? Surely they must have had some break through?

Yet I had still heard nothing about it - and I was keeping all my ears out for even a whisper relating to this mysterious criminal.

And so, my mind kept coming back to the hospital attacks. There was something odd about it all. All the attacks had been the exact same. He always created an explosion in a storage cupboard, then vanished into thin air before anyone could get close, always leaving a calling card behind in the form of a joker playing card.

I pulled my head away from the page of work I had been trying to read whilst these thoughts turned in mind. I had no idea what I had just supposedly read, and I pushed the folder away in frustration. Why the hospitals?! I demanded in my head, staring at the pillar directly in front of my desk. The Joker had even gone back to the hospitals he’d already attacked, and, even with the increased security, he had done the exact same thing in each of the wings – always escaping before anyone could catch more than a glimpse of him. It was like he was toying with us – like he was finding some perverse fun from all of this.

But that couldn’t only be it. He couldn’t be going through all this effort for ‘fun’. Sure, I might believe the psychopath capable of that if it was a one off, or a couple, but this was clearly following a pattern and something about it felt strategic.

I grabbed a notepad and scribbled out a list of everything from the crime scenes that I could remember was the same. The bombs. The cards. The storage room. The disappearing act.

I tried to justify each other point: He had to disappear, or he’d get caught. Tick. He needed the bombs to create enough distraction to escape. Tick. The playing cards were just his calling card, his signature to say it was all his work. Tick. The storage room. Why always a storage room? Easy place to plant the explosives and camp out till he was ready to set them off? Tick.

I pursed my lips in frustration, before turning my attention to the single drawer in my worn little desk. I pulled it open, extracting a very crumpled, well used piece of paper. I unfolded it, reading the word I knew off by heart, the few scraps of information I had gotten from the Joker’s folder before Harvey had taken it from me, I had written it from memory, though I knew I was missing things.

Most of what I had read, and memorised, was on the effects of his so called laughing gas. It wasn’t much to help me to track him down, but at least it was some information. It mainly listed the different subtypes of the gas the joker had produced, and the varying effects they had on people - some knock outs, some poisons, some instant, some slow, and painful. All had the same characteristic signs – uncontrollable laughing and a permanent grin left on the victims face at death.

This gas was fascinating – as much as it was nasty. This Joker character was quite a chemist. But it made me wonder how he did it. What was this gas?

Wait. Of course. The gas was made of multiple different chemicals. That means that he’d need a supply. Maybe he got them off the black market - maybe he stole them. Both were just as risky as the other.

But where were there always certain gases? Especially knockouts. Hospital storage rooms.

But it was only a suspicion. I needed some proof. There was nothing to say that he was stealing gas canisters. He might have just destroyed them all in the explosion and I was completely barking up the wrong tree. Maybe I was just thinking too much. Maybe he was just insane.

I needed to figure out what was in those storage cupboards and what was in that laughing gas.

It didn’t take much digging to find out what was in each storage room of the hospital – anaesthetic gas canisters, pure oxygen and – surprisingly – nitric oxide. I frowned at this piece of information – a toxic gas in a hospital cupboard? - but after further research I found an article published by the medical researchers at the Gotham General Hospital that said there was new medical research that suggested poisonous gases such as nitric oxide could be used in small doses to aid the healing of wounds.

My next question was, what was in this Joker venom? I only knew one place where I might get this information.

I knocked on the doorframe of the open doorway to the police lab. “Hello?” I called into the empty room.

“Eh huh?” I heard a man’s voice call back from somewhere.

I stepped in, glancing around for the source of the voice, taking in the chemical equipment lining the sides and the locked cupboards of chemicals. I was examining what appeared to be a slide of blood when I heard a cough behind me. “Can I help you, ma’am?”

I spun around to see a man with shaggy sandy hair in a lab coat, his hands clothed and stained. “Uh, yes. I need to ask a question.” I said.

“Shoot.” He said, folding his arms and leaning back on the counter behind him, dangerously closed to a corker beaker of yellow fluid.

I folded my arms and leant back on the table behind me, mimicking his posture. “What happens if you combine nitric oxide with the Joker’s toxin?” I asked outright - no good beating around the bush.

“You mean the Joker’s poisonous gas?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yep.”

The man eyed me suspiciously. He bowed his head before lifting his head to meet my eyes again. “Wouldn’t know,” He admitted. “No one know what is in that laughing gas.” He told “– except maybe batman.” He joked with a slight smile.

I played along, giving him a small smile. “What if I got you a sample?” I asked.

He frowned at me like I was joking. “Good one.” He smirked, “No one knows where his warehouses are or where he gets it from. It’s impossible to track down the source.”

“I can be very persistent.”

He quirked a half smile at me and I couldn’t help but think he looked pretty handsome, the light overhead catching in his curls. “You’re that new girl aren’t ya?” He asked, readjusting his seat on the counter.

“I wouldn’t say new anymore…” I teased him, “I’m Fran.” I said pushing myself off from the table, stepping toward the man and holding out my hand in greeting.

He smirked at my actions, before copying me, “Sam.” He said, gripping my hand firmly, but kindly.

I chatted with Sam for a while longer, though we didn’t touch any further on the Joker gas. I asked about some of the odd chemicals around the room and he let me rant about the frustrations of being confined to a desk.

I left the lab feeling slightly more cheerful – after all I felt I had finally made a friend at my work – though I hadn’t managed to get any further with my idea on the Joker’s toxin. I was however, still determined to get to the bottom of its components, even if I had to make the thing myself.

As I walked back to my desk I suddenly a hand grabbed my shoulder from behind and bring me to a halt, causing me to stumble back slightly. I glanced over my shoulder to the owner of the hand and came face to face with a familiar, rough beard and weathered features of Bullock.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to, kid.” He warned, glaring down at me with suspicion in his eyes. “What did I tell you about digging into this?” he demanded, his tightening his grip and causing his fingers to bite into my skin.

I turned to face him fully, causing him to release my shoulder. “I don’t know what you mean, I was just chatting to Sam.” I said innocently, trying to ignore the ache left in my shoulder.

“Don’t think I don’t know that you’ve been sneaking around and eaves dropping.” He snapped.

I knew he wasn’t buying any act of mine. “Look, Harvey.” I began with a heavy sigh, “I really think I’m on to something now.” I insisted, pleading with him to hear me out.

“He’s insane kid, he’s not up to anything.”

“He’s not though! Don’t you get it – it’s an act!”

He snorted dismissively, “And how do you know this, hmm? Do you know this freak? Are you buddies? ‘Cause if so, speak up, you’d be the key to finally catching that psycho!” He exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. I did saying anything, lowering my head in defeat. Harvey saw he was winning and pushed on, “Now, that man is a cold-blooded psychopath who doesn’t do anything for any reason other than to cause chaos and suffering.”

“But he’s doing something behind all these hospital hits!” I insisted, “– there is a purpose behind all of them!”

“If there was, don’t you think we would have found it by now?” Demanded Harvey. “Keep your nose out of things you know nothing about and stay away from this case - or I’ll have you permanently benched by the commissioner.” He warned.

“You can’t do that!” I cried out angrily.

“No,” He admitted, with a tilt of his head, “but I can get you benched for at least the year – an uncooperating, disobeying, mouthy little rookie like you – easy to convince that you’d be dangerous sin the field.” He pointed out, “And I’ll just suggest that a little time out would be just the right thing to teach you a lesson - I’m sure my good friend Commissioner Gordon would agree.” He said slyly. I stared at him hard, trying to find the bluff in his words, but the triumphant smirk on his face made me know I wouldn’t find anything. I sighed heavily, feeling deflated and beaten. Harvey patted my sore shoulder heavily before beginning to amble off to his desk.

“Oh.” He called, stopping and turning back to me, “By the way, kid - stop showing everyone up with your speedy paperwork - no one likes a teacher’s pet.” I scowled at his back as he strode away, pleased with himself.

Now I felt really deflated.

[loverhymeswith]

What a Wicked Game | One

[Rick Flag x OC]

Word Count: 4,395

A/N: This fic was born because Rick Flag deserved better. And I have been truly inspired by all the amazing Rick fic already out there. You guys are giving me life. I haven't written anything like this for a long time, so I just hope I can do the man justice.

Rick.

Rick Flag is no stranger to putting himself in mortal peril.

He’s the leader of the goddamn Suicide Squad after all. Fighting his way out of deadly situations is just another day in the office. Still, this might be the most reckless thing he’s ever done.

One thing’s for certain, Amanda Waller is going to kill him.

That is, if Gotham’s Clown Prince of Crime doesn’t beat her to it.

Nothing gets past Amanda “The Wall” Waller, least of all the meta-human inmates of Belle Reve Correctional Facility. The nano-bombs implanted in their brains are supposed to ensure that. And yet here’s Rick, driving through the back streets of Gotham City in the dead of night, with one of Waller’s very own meta-human prisoners by his side.

For some time now he’s been promising the woman next to him that he’s going to take care of things, make things right. But as they approach their destination, he’s beginning to doubt his ability to deliver.

The odds are stacked against him in every direction.

He only has a few hours until Waller notices not all her toys are back in their box. And here Rick is, about to make a deal with the Devil.

He glances over at his passenger. Her head rests against the window of his Jeep; strands of her silver-blonde hair have escaped their braid, framing the soft angles of her face. On nights like this her name seems incredibly fitting.

Her eyes are closed, but he can tell Angel’s not sleeping. Just like Rick, she can never sleep after a mission. Strung out but still wired with adrenaline, knowing her freedom is slipping away with every passing second.

All Task Force X missions are tough. It’s the very reason the covert black-ops team exists in the first place; why Rick was assigned as their leader. They’re here to take care of the shit that no-one else wants to deal with. Why get your hands dirty when the Suicide Squad can do it for you?

This mission was worse than usual. They’re bloody and bruised; broken physically and mentally, and down three team members less than when they started. Rick hates losing any team members, even if most of them are convicted felons who are far more concerned with saving their own skin than the success of the assignment.

Angel is different though.

She’s still a convicted felon, with a fair share of blood on her hands, but like Rick, she puts her life on the line time and again. Gets him out of some real scraps. And for what? Twelve meagre hours of freedom for each successful mission. A sliver of reward for not dying. It’s not good enough.

It will never be good enough.

And it’s been building up for a while now, this reckless desire of Rick’s.

Each time he escorts her back to the cell, he can feel Angel losing another piece of herself. Belle Reve does that to a person. He would know. He spends enough time with its inmates to see it first-hand. How the prison slowly chips away at your sanity, until the person you once were becomes nothing more than splinters in the wind.

Only the truly crazy seem to survive Belle Reve. Harley’s proof of that.

So, Rick needs to get Angel out of Belle Reve and Task Force X before it’s too late, and he’s convinced himself that tonight must be the night.

Angel finally shifts beside him, pulling his attention away from the road.

“Where are we going tonight, Rick?” She asks hoarsely, eyes still shut. Angry purple bruises bloom around her throat. A reminder of how close they came to failing. How close he came to losing her.

His fingers grip the steering wheel a fraction tighter.

It’s become a habit, these late-night, post-mission drives. Ever since Waller assigned him as Angel’s chaperone – a stipulation of the twelve-hour bargain.

Angel likes being on the road. She tells him she finds the gentle hum of the engine calming. The soft rumble of tires on the highway sooths her fraying nerves. The neon signs and gleaming headlights remind her there is a world away from Belle Reve, away from the endless death and destruction.

Rick enjoys the company.

Just the two of them. Going as far as her curfew will allow, never the same place twice.

Except for tonight.

He doesn’t want to lie to her, but he doesn’t want to tell her the truth either. Not just yet. Because after tonight, everything’s going to change.

He’s also not entirely sure she’ll want to go along with his plan once she knows who’s involved. Hell, even Harley tried warning him against this. But Rick is all out of options.

“Rick?” She grumbles. He hasn’t replied yet.

“We’re getting that damn thing out of your head, darlin’. You’ve just got to trust me, ok?”

Angel’s eyes fly open. Alarmed, her bright blue gaze settles on him. “Tonight?”

They’ve talked about it before, sure, about breaking Waller’s diabolical hold over her, but she’s never really believed he’s being serious. It’s always seemed like more of a pipedream than anything truly possible.

She underestimates just how strongly Rick feels.

“Can’t wait any longer. Nearly lost you back there.”

Today was a wake-up call if ever he needed one. The missions are becoming deadlier, the squad crazier, Waller more powerful. It’s time for Angel to get out.

After his relationship with June ended, Rick swore off love. If he’s being honest with himself, he’s not even sure if it really was love, but it hurt like hell when she left, and he doesn’t want to feel like that ever again.

Whatever he feels for Angel is different, but it scares the shit out of him all the same. It’s not love, at least he doesn’t think so. Hopes it isn’t. All he knows is that he can’t let anything happen to her. Can’t let anything else happen to her.

He drags his gaze from the road again to find her watching him intently, her bright blue eyes reflecting the glow of the passing headlights. His own eyes wander back to the finger-shaped bruises around her delicate neck.

“Is this about earlier? It wasn’t your fault you know.”

Rick shakes his head. She’s wrong.

He’d been distracted. Careless. Forgot to switch off the goddamn power dampeners.

The chopper had barely landed when they were ambushed. Someone had sold them out. But that was a problem for another day. Because Angel had been caught by those assholes, and she couldn’t even protect herself. The most valuable member of the squad, the only one of them with the gift of life as well as death, and he’d left her weak and defenceless.

Rick hadn’t bothered to stop Waylon from tearing the bastards in half when he got his claws on them.

He grits his jaw, eyes returning to the road ahead. He doesn’t deserve this - her kindness, her understanding.

“It’s my job to protect you. I failed.”

Because he’s their leader. Colonel Rick Flag. He’s responsible for the outcome of every mission, for making the difficult decisions, keeping the delinquents in line, ensuring no one is left behind.

When Angel replies, the resolve in her voice killshim. “You didn’t fail. I’m here. We’re both here, in one piece.”

“But for how much longer?” he asks her, gruffly. “It’s only a matter of time before our luck runs out. One day there’ll be no more close calls, no more second chances. Look at what happened to…”

“Rick.” She sighs.

He knows she worries when he gets like this. Anxious. Agitated. Agonising over the deaths he feels he could have prevented. Should have prevented.

“You can’t save everyone.”

How many times has he heard that? Logically, he knows it to be true. Doesn’t make it any easier though. Waller says he just wants to play the hero. Surrounded by villains day in and day out, maybe she’s right.

And maybe he can’t save everyone.

But he can save Angel.

“Seriously, where are we going?”

She still doesn’t believe him. Thinks she can change the subject and distract him from his melancholy. Usually, it works. But not tonight.

His stomach, his skin, every inch of his body is crawling with snakes, spiders and all manner of horrid things as he thinks about what he needs to do. He can feel Angel’s eyes on him, but he keeps his own fixed firmly on the road. Can’t bring himself to see the look on her face when he tells her.

Rick tries to clear the lump in his throat as he makes a turn off the main road. “We’re payin’ a visit to an old friend of Harley’s…”

They’ve reached the worst part of Gotham now, so he knows it’s not far. That is, if Harley’s scribbled directions are correct. He can’t quite put his finger on when exactly he started trusting the former psychiatrist, but now’s not the time for doubt.

Speaking of which, he tunes out the tiny inner voice that’s been screaming all night this is a terrible idea. It might be a terrible idea, but it’s the only one he’s got.

“Harley?” It only takes a beat of silence before he senses Angel stiffen. The penny drops. “You don’t mean…?”

He nods once.

She turns in her seat and for a moment he thinks she’s going to grab the wheel. Or him. The power dampeners have long since been discarded. She could put a stop to this right now if she wanted to. All it takes is one touch.

“What the hell, Rick!? Have you lost your mind?”

Probably, he thinks, but it’s too late to worry about that now. They’ve almost arrived.

“You’re gonna have to trust me darlin’. This is our only choice.”

He slows the car to a crawl, peering out of the window into the mist covered night. After the prison, Gotham is one of his least favourite places. Always feels like he’s stepping into a nightmare. Difference is, tonight the nightmare’s coming true.

“No, it’s not.” She protests. “We can go back to Belle Reve.”

“You are not going back there.” He’s gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turn white.

“Rick.” Angel reaches for him, her fingers brushing the back of his hand.

It’s only the slightest of touches, but he doesn’t flinch at the contact anymore. He still isn’t quite used to it though and she knows it. She’s always so careful around him. He trusts she won’t hurt him, but it’s not natural, you know, what she can do with that touch.

“What about giving me a choice?”

Rick’s boot comes down on the footbrake, her question demanding his full attention.

She has a point. How is he any better than Waller right now? Forcing Angel into a plan of his own making with no thought as to what she might want. This isn’t the person he wants to be.

“I’m sorry, I just…” He sighs, searching for the right words in his scrambled-up brain. He’s always found it difficult to articulate himself, to explain his emotions. Just knows he feels too much sometimes. “I can’t stand you being locked up in that place. It’s not right. You’re too… good.”

“But isn’t he worse than Waller? How can we trust him?”

She stares at him with those big blue eyes, and he feels his chest tighten, finds it harder to breathe. Where did all the oxygen go?

“Do you trust me?” His voice is rough and rasping, thick with emotion. He hopes she doesn’t notice. He’s always been careful to conceal his feelings around her. Whatever those feelings might be.

“Yes, but…”

He takes one hand off the wheel and without thinking reaches out to grip her fingers tightly. The absolute contact sends shockwaves through his body, but it has nothing to do with her gift.

It’s the first time he’s touched her like this, without the power dampeners on.

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

Angel.

Despite her better judgement, Angel allows Rick to coax her out of the car. She can tell something’s been bothering him for a while now, even before the disastrous mission. He’s been quieter, more angsty than usual. She knows better than to pry though. He’s never been one for sharing his feelings. And it’s never been her business.

Until now.

Now it is quite literally her business. If she’d known all this time that he was concocting an insane plan to remove the nano-bomb implanted in the base of her skull she would have…well…she’d have tried talking some sense into him.

The problem with Rick is that he’s like a dog with a bone. Stubborn, determined, unwilling to admit defeat. A martyr. Because this ridiculous idea of his might just get them both killed.

But he’s asked her to trust him. She can do that, surely? She puts her life in his hands on every mission and when has he ever let her down? No matter what he thinks, today wasn’t his fault.

She follows Rick along a dimly lit alley that smells like death, through a pair of rusting iron gates and into the loading yard of an abandoned warehouse.

Yes.

She’s going to trust him.

With every step forward her panic rises, but somehow she manages to hold it together. Because if she’s honest with herself she wants this too. Wants to be free, from Belle Reve, from Waller, from wondering each day if it’s going to be her last.

She hangs back while Rick knocks loudly on a boarded-up door. Someone has gone to great lengths to make the place look deserted. She’s always pictured something…flashier. Then again, what villain in their right mind would want to advertise their secret lair with a billboard sign and flashing lights?

Then she remembers.

This villain isn’t in their right mind.

Somewhere above them a flood light switches on, bathing the yard in a sickly yellow glow. The door swings open on invisible hinges, revealing a pair of tall figures in matching black suits. Angel’s not sure what’s worse, the hideous fanged grins painted on their masked heads, one black and one white, or the huge automatic guns pointing at her and Rick.

She takes a step back involuntarily, but Rick doesn’t move, just stares back at the monstrous pair, shoulders squared as he speaks.

“Tell your boss that Rick Flag is here to see him.”

The figures exchange a look with one another. At least, she thinks it’s a look. Hard to tell given the fact that there are no eyes in those hideous masks.

“Rick…” She edges closer to him, conscious of the figures watching her every move. Rick’s not a small man, but these freaks dwarf even him.

Before she can beg him to turn around and leave, the white mask lurches forwards and grabs Rick roughly by the shoulder. Pushes him inside without saying a word, leaving Black Mask with a clear path to Angel.

To hell with this, she thinks, holding up her hand as the creature starts to prowl towards her. “Don’t bother, I’m coming.”

Angel finds herself bundled inside what appears to be the inner loading dock. A flickering tube light illuminates the small area and her eyes dart around, searching for Rick. Her relief at finding him is short lived though, as White Mask has him up against the wall while Black Mask begins to relieve him of his weapons.

If it wasn’t for the perilous circumstance, Angel would find it amusing, the number of firearms and blades Rick manages to conceal about his person. The assault rifle remains in the Jeep, but he has a pair of handguns in his shoulder holster, two Glocks tucked into his waistband and at least one knife in each boot.

Once Rick is completely unarmed, the freaks move on to Angel.

“It’s ok Rick. Here.” She pulls her own single gun from the waist of her bloodied combat trousers and hands it over to White Mask. It’s never been much use to her, even after all the lessons from Deadshot. She just doesn’t have the coordination.

“She’s not armed,” Rick insists, putting himself between the masks and Angel.

He seems to forget they still have their own guns trained on him and one wrong move might put a swift end to this great scheme of his.

Her skills are more… unique. But less precise.

Perhaps she should have told Rick to put the power dampeners back on. She doesn’t want to cause a major incident by accidentally taking out one of these henchmen.

After Rick’s little exhibition, the freaks are taking no chances and they proceed to pat her down roughly. She takes a deep breath. Reminds herself she is here by choice. It’s not like before. Before Belle Reve. Before the Suicide Squad. She’s a different person now. She’s in control.

Isn’t she?

The moment the radio falls silent, both masked freaks separate out. Despite their size, they move startlingly fast. Before Angel can react, Rick is being manhandled out of the room by White Mask.

Satisfied the pair are unarmed, one of the freaks produces a radio from somewhere about his person and the sound of crackling static fills the air. An alien-like voice proceeds to splutter out a series of incomprehensible commands.

Angel glances over at Rick who looks just as bewildered. His hazel eyes are wide, wary. The brightest thing in this dark room. She focuses on those eyes. Uses them to keep her grounded. Reminds herself he’s got her back.

Always.

She shouts after him, afraid. Doesn’t want to be left alone. Doesn’t know where he’s being taken. Tries to follow, but the door slams shut in her face.

Probably not.

In pain staking slow motion the black-masked figure turns to look at her. Again, she assumes he’s looking at her, because you know, no eyes.

Distantly, she wonders if he’s ever allowed to take off the mask. In fact, as she’s trapped there in the claustrophobic loading dock, she starts to wonder a lot of things. Like whether she can reach Black Mask’s heart before he can pull the trigger.

And where would that leave her? Where would it leave Rick, who’s bargaining away goodness knows what to secure her a future she’s not even sure she deserves.

A large hand grabs her roughly by the shoulder and shoves her out of the dock. Marches her forwards until they reach the centre of the room, where, surrounded by an assortment of disturbingly masked figures, stands Rick.

It’s hard to say how much time passes, but when a sharp whistle finally pierces the cloying silence, Angel nearly jumps out of her skin. Ever the obedient lackey, Black Mask opens the door that Rick disappeared through, revealing a wide-open chamber, presumably once the centre of the old warehouse.

Fluorescent green lights have been installed, casting the area in a sickly glow. She should be terrified, but all she can think about is Rick. How much she needs to see him again, needs to know he’s ok.

Any relief she feels about him still being in one piece soon shatters when her eyes land on the individual next to him.

The Joker.

Here before her, in the flesh, for the very first time.

He’s shorter than she expected.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Amanda Waller’s very own ‘Angel of Death’.”

Rick moves to take a step towards her, but the Clown Prince stops him with a swift hand to the chest. “Colonel Flag, you didn’t tell me that it was this particular meta-human you want to save.”

When Rick doesn’t reply, the Joker flashes him a menacing grin. “Whatever happened to June Moone?”

Angel isn’t surprised to hear June’s name on the Joker’s lips. Of course, he’s keeping tabs on the Suicide Squad, especially after Midway City. After Harley. He probably hates the idea that she’s finally made something of herself without him.

Angel doesn’t like the flicker of pain in Rick’s eyes. She knows how much it still hurts him to think about June. After everything he went through – they went through – to bring her back.

Rick growls. “I told you we have a time limit, Clown. Are you going to help or not?”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist, Flag.” The Joker cackles, his pale green eyes gleaming with barely concealed excitement as his cronies close in around Rick.

Narcissistic bastard.

The green menace stalks towards Angel and she notices for the first time his immaculate attire. Crisp white shirt loosely buttoned, offering a glimpse of tattoos; their dark lines harsh against his sallow skin. Black dress pants, gold rings on every finger.

For a sadistic psychopath, he seems to take an awful amount of pride in his appearance.

Pausing a few feet away, the Joker cocks his head. A predator sizing up his prey. “It’s only polite to get to know someone before cutting their brain open. Wouldn’t you agree, Angel?”

Her mouth falls open, his words dousing her in fear. “Wh…what?”

Rick elbows his way through the goons and plants himself between Angel and the Joker. The thick, muscled wall of his body a welcome shield. “He’s lying.”

Before Rick can elaborate or the Joker can disagree, another figure enters the room.

Unlike the rest of the henchmen, this one is unmasked.

Familiar.

Wearing a white lab coat.

“Is that...?”

“Dr. Van Criss.” The Joker leers. “Yes, you might well recognise him as the very man responsible for putting that bomb in your head in the first place. Fortunate that he works for me now, don’t you think?”

This is Rick’s plan; Angel realises with a jolt. How long has he known that Van Criss is on the Joker’s payroll?

They’ve all heard the rumours: that after the scientist was blackmailed into removing Harley’s bomb, he disappeared from A.R.G.U.S. Some say he was terminated by Waller. Not a huge stretch of the imagination after experiencing first-hand what she did to her team in Midway City.

But no, the doctor lives. He’s probably just too great an asset for the Joker to let go of. All those government secrets squirreled away inside his brain.

There’s something just too easy about this though, Angel thinks. After all, nothing comes for free. Especially not in Gotham. Not from the Joker.

What’s the price?

She wants to ask, but the Joker side-steps Rick with a flourish and his lean arm comes to hover over around her shoulders.

Almost touching. But not quite.

Is he… scared?

He leans in close, his bitter breath tickling her cheek as he croons. “Tell me, Angel. Can you really kill a man with one touch?”

Angel ducks out of his almost-embrace and bares her teeth. “Would you like to find out?”

She could do it.

And that’s what really kills.

She could stop his heart if she wanted to. Could leave him dizzy and sweating, stricken and gasping for breath, until the very last minute. And then, if she’s feeling generous, bring him back from the brink of death.

It’s a shame his goons would get to her first.

Because she needs time. That’s the thing. Time to constrict the arteries, time to squeeze the air from his lungs.

Everyone thinks it’s instant, this gift of hers. That all it takes is one touch. Even Rick. It’s why he’s so reluctant to touch her.

What he doesn’t realise is that there’s never been anything to worry about.

Angel’s control over her power has always been tentative at best. That’s how she ended up in Belle Reve; let her emotions gets the better of her. But the human body is a complex machine, and sure, she might be able to quicken a pulse here, or heal a scratch there, but it takes a huge amount of concentration, will power, raw emotion, for her to do any real damage.

So, Rick might not want to touch her, and she can’t blame him for that. But she would never hurt him.

The Joker is delighted. He looks over at Rick, amusement tugging at his dark lips until they part obscenely, revealing a row of silver capped teeth.

“This one’s got claws, Flag.” He turns to Angel. “How’s about I get that bomb out of your head and you come work for me? I’ve been in the market for a new pet since Harley left.”

Everyone in the room, including Rick, knows he’s bluffing. They wouldn’t be here if there was any alternative and Angel has finally accepted this.

“Enough, Joker.” Rick snarls.

It looks as if he’s going to launch himself on the clown, but that sliver of self-restraint that always seems to keep Rick alive sees his feet rooted to the spot.

“We do this now, or we’re leaving.”

“Oh, I don’t think that’s going to happen Colonel. But seeing as I am in the habit of protecting my investments, let’s get to it. Doc, the floor is yours.”

The Joker gives Angel a final appraisal before turning on his heel and heads back towards his circle of henchmen.

Van Criss holds out an arm, gesturing for Angel to join him but she remains frozen in place, staring at Rick with uncertainty. “What does he mean by investment?”

Rick shakes his head. “Nothing for you to worry about, darlin’. Come on. Let’s get this over and done with.”

He offers her his hand, another first, but for the second time this evening his hazel eyes betray him. There’s something he’s not telling her.

“I’m afraid it’s a rather rudimentary procedure,” Van Criss explains as he guides them to what appears to be a makeshift medical bay. “Without having my original instruments to hand I’m going to have to make a small incision to remove the device.”

Angel wants to put her foot down, to insist on being told the full story, but like Rick she is painfully aware of the clock ticking. If she doesn’t make a decision now, Waller will happily make it for her.

So, with no small amount of trepidation, she takes Rick’s hand and lets him lead her over to the waiting doctor.

Angel notices how he doesn’t call it a bomb.

[pcrushinnerd]

The Cat

Synopsis: Attempting to catch a fleeing feline leads to a chance encounter between two Gotham neighbors that will change their lives forever. [[Completed]]

Relationship(s): Arthur Fleck x OC/Arthur Fleck x reader

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

The story is also available on Fanfiction.net as a strictly 3rd person story. I also created a Spotify list with the music mentioned in or which generally inspired the story as I was writing it.

[imjusthereforbatfam]

Master List of My Nonsense

All links lead to tumblr posts unless otherwise specified. I'll try to keep up-to-date 😅 Also this is a side blog so all replies in notes come from my main, @jaygrl22.

Fic:

Never-Ending Encore (Jason/Red Hood x oc)

Okay. Ignoring all the death and dying, Eden Smith is a fairly normal person. So maybe not everyone grows up on a farm and gains a new “sibling” every few years, and— I mean, yeah, most people don’t have a mother who definitely used to kill people for a living, or have a father who walked out when they refused to become a superhero, or ran away to Gotham without telling anyone they know, or— or— Okay, FINE! Maybe Eden ISN'T entirely normal. Can’t you just let her eat her cookies and die a couple times in peace? Sheesh!

Ch1 (ao3) — Most recent update: Ch 11((on ao3)), updated 7/28/24

Fan art(!?!): Eden, silly 😂, ch1 cover

TikToks:

ooc faq: fanworks? Job?

Daily Gothamite Things - Part: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, finals week, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️, 21, 22, 23, 24, 24.5, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 🏖, 30, 31, 🎃, Kris Gothe, 32

The Gothe (& Mett) Cousins: 1,

Falling for him💕

Batfics

The visiting Gothamite

Robin 2

Gotham vs Metropolis

Arkhamverse!Riddler vs Gothamite

That rent tho

Book club!

@ non-Gothamites

Joker's never dead

Gotham's not that bad

Gothamite couples be like

Overheard in Gotham

Ask Gothamites: Wonder Woman x Batman?

The Gothamite's batfic adventure

What would you do..?

Here comes the 💕boy💕

Kidnapper vs Gothamite, 2

Welcome home!

Welcome to Goth-Mart

Ooc: when a suggestion hits a little too close😅

Collab with d0ublebac0n

Gothamite's Criminal Dad: part 1, Part 2, part 3

At the library's After School program

Trying, Still Trying

2's Day

The Batman 2022: Riddler

Living in Gotham: Nightvale

Fridays, right?

[naromoreau]

Ship-a-thon

I was tagged by the always amazing @rpgwarrior4824, thank you bb!

Tagging: @starsandskies @thot4stacipratt @outranks @seedsplease @deputyoneill @alyssalenko @juleshawke @briarfox13 @occorner @somanyjacks @lexieheron @leavenopathuntaken @sml8180 and everyone who wants to do this.  1. First ship you ever wrote fic for:

F!Shoker. Mass Effect was what brought me into fandom. 

2. Ship you write the most now: 

F!Deputy x Sharky Boshaw. My babies. 

3. Ship you read the most now: 

Deputy x Joseph, Deputy x John, Deputy x Jacob and of course Deputy x Sharky. I’m very into Far Cry 5 right now. 

4. Newest ship: 

F!Deputy x Sharky Boshaw. 

5. Rare ship you wanna read more of: 

I haven’t actually thought about this, but probably Fane x Sebille from Divinity Original Sin 2 and maybe, just maybe @alyssalenko would cater to my wishes.  

6. Your taboo ship: 

None that I can think of. 

7. They never met in canon ship: 

I don’t have one like that, sadly!

8. Your unexpected ship: 

Sharky and Deputy. I mean I started playing Far Cry 5 because I was smitten by Joseph and when I played I was like akjsdhaskj Sharky kasjdhaksj. I still remember I told @starsandskies OMG LÚA, I’M GONNA EAT SHARKY. I wasn’t expecting it. That’s for sure. 

9. The ship you always forget to give love to: 

Again Sebille x Fane, my DOS 2 OTP. 

10. Ship your OC with a canon character (if applicable): 

Don’t have one.

11. Ship you’re embarrassed to ship: 

I proudly ship them all. 

12. Your most romantic ship: 

Probably Joseph x F!Deputy? or Joker x F!Shepard? I haven’t thought about this tbh. 

13. Your sexiest ship: 

Maybe, maaaaaaaybe Sharky x F! Dep? 

14. Your most tragic ship:

All of them in Far Cry 5. I’M BIG CRY. 

15. A ship you want more content for: 

A lot! Sharky x F!Dep, Sharky x Dep, Zevran x Alistair (I’m a big fan of this ship since I read the amazing Unraveled by @somanyjacks, and I have to say I reread it almost once a month askjdhasdj, I just love it.) 

[bagog]

Bagog’s Mass Effect Fic Directory, 2015

I write a lot of Mass Effect shorts that get posted once and then never again. Been asked a few times to make a Master List of all my fanfic stuff by year, so here we go!

++

Original Works

New Skill Set Post-war, Shepard confronts his trauma and masters all new skills to be a good father for his and Kaidan’s son, Sean. Fluffy, sweet, and domestic.

An Expert on Bad Dreams Unconventional Swim Instructor

Post-War Parallels A series in which the ‘same story’ is alternated between a universe where Shepard did not survive the war, and one where he did. Angsty, bitter-sweet lovey dovey, and angsty, respectively.

One New Message Waiting Someone’s Waiting Backlogged Messages

N7 Hoodie - Kaidan sorts through Shepard’s belongings after he has died. Short, angsty.

Ask Box Fills

I am always super stoked to fill any random request that comes into my ask box, and in 2015 I posted a lot of Ask Memes. Below are the meme’s filled according to character and then prompt. They range in length from 100-1000 words.

MShep x Joker -Surprisingly popular and the fans are great.

“Going to Need You to Put Some Underwear On...“ “Leave Me to Die--No Wait! Just Kidding, please help!”  First Time Cooking For Each Other

Mshenko - Much love for the OTP

‘Shh, that’s the Sound of Me Falling in Love with You‘ ‘Paid to Punch You in the Face’ Continued here... The Fake ID with @gayscottryder​‘s Cal Shepard OC Falling asleep on a date Trembling Hands Comfort Food, More Comfort Food When Words Aren’t Enough Coming Home, part 2 Yawn and Stretch Fire, Flames and Excessive Heat One Missed Call

Other Prompts

James and Kaidan and the Cat Legion - The Skirt is Short on Purpose EDI - Someone’s Greatest Fear

Archives of Special Runs

Where I try as often as possible to engage in theme weeks/months or make my own mini-series when the right request strikes me.

OTP Surrealism Prompt - Mshenko Kaidan Appreciation Week -2015Kaidan Appreciation Week Scraps Sleeper Pods Super-Short Series - Mshenko N7 Month - 2015 Merry Mshenko Christmas, 2015

Thread-Meddling

Sometimes I see a someone else’s headcanon and just start writing.

Kaidan and Shepard both Make it to the Citadel... Kaidan and Shepard, SoulMate AU Same Old Places -  a drabble based on @ltleflrt‘s Feels Like Home AU Kaidan and Shepard - AU Shepard is the one who gets hurt on Mars

More below the cut!

Longer Prompt Fills

These fics are gifts or prompt fills that got longer than intended and became proper one-shots. Many are cross-posted to AO3, though some are not. AO3 links will be provided through the tumblr link, should you wish to see them there. They are Mshenko unless otherwise stated.

Things that Change, Things that Stay the Same

Inspired by @shepard-alenko‘s story Household Hoodies, a number of thematically connected threads showing the progress of their relationship and Shepard’s healing post-war, centering around the boys wearing and sharing each others’ hoodies

Thinking Back

Ben Shepard and Kaidan lie in the snow, and consider when they first knew they loved each other.

Two Rings

Far future where Shep and Kaidan have been married for years, and are still on missions together... sort of.

Pillows and Photographs

Post-war, Shepard is finally ready to sleep in a bed again. Kaidan has been making himself sick keeping a watchful eye over his recovery, but now they can both rest.

In London

Post-war, Shepard and Kaidan are making a modest living, thinking about Kahlee Sanders and David Anderson. Flashback to the first night Anderson moved into his Citadel apartment.

A Perfect Memory

In a conversation with Thane, Kaidan realizes why all of his memories of Shepard are so muddied and hard to make sense of. He realizes he is in love with Shepard.

There Are Things I wanna Say

The end of the end. After a long and wonderful life together, Shepard attends Kaidan at his deathbed. It was always a gamble who would reach the finish line first and who would go on alone.

Starting From Scratch

Post-war, Shepard and Kaidan take a well-deserved camping trip to settle down and get to know each other. Fluffy and warm.

Interspecies Cooperation

Reapers defeated, Javik reflects on his relationship with his own kind and with other races at a post-war conference for interspecies cooperation.

There, that’s all of 2015! Always love knowing what your favorites were, what you might like to see more of, or hearing requests!

I’ve had some requests to post more of these on AO3, does that seem like a thing I should do? Or would that be muddy and complicated? Any thoughts welcome. Thanks very much for always supporting me and for taking part in this game that has meant so much to me.

[fyrapartnersearch]

Fandom Search; Always Looking

With the holiday season slowly rolling in, I will have some more free-time, besides the amount I already have to write. I’d love to find someone who would like to write within one of the fandoms I shall list below!

First, I shall off run over a few things I keep in mind, when I write with someone. Some could call them rules, but I digress.

*I am in EST, just in case you were wondering.

*I mainly write in third person, past tense. Though, third person is my preferred POV, I am up to debate for perhaps first person.

That being said, I do not mind internal monologing or thoughts being written within first person.

*I tend to stick with canon characters, but OC’s can be discussed. Though, again my prefer method is canonXcanon

*I love to double, and use multiple characters, if the story/fandom calls for it. I won’t force you, but it is always an option if you chose so!

*When it comes to Fandom Rping, I usually think of the RP as an AU.

Of course, if you wish to stick to canon stories, and change one or two things here, fine with me. Though, I am for a more what-if sort of idea, of expanding on a different outcome of an event.

*I tend to write in a paragraph style, roughing around three-to-five per post. Of course, some require more, some less. Just no one liners, or quick snippets please.

Now, the Fandoms I am interested in writing/discusing ideas about:




*DC TV Universe/ Arrowverse. : 
This includes all the CW shows- Arrow, Legends of Tomorrow, Flash, SuperGirl, or even a cross-over.

—-One idea I have, I have been dubbing it, Conquest of the Multiverse And it deals with an aspect introduced in the Crisis On Earth-X event. The Earth-Xers will be out to rull over the whole multiverse, leaving Earth-1 for last. This could be a very long-term thought, exploring many different parallel earths, if anyone was intested.


 *DCEU/DC Cinematic Universe: 
 Recently viewing Justice League, against some opinions- I had a blast watching it! I can recognize problems with the film of course, however there was never a part I was disappointed with.

With that in mind, I’d love to go back to the start, go through the events of the film a bit different. It is clear, within the movie, scenes we cut. I’d love to flesh out characters more, and perhaps make SteppenWolf more to do. This could have us change some events within the DCEU. This really up to a lot of discussing before we started.

Or, we could move passed the film and perhaps have Batman out looking for more possible members, for the ‘round table with six chairs but room for more.’

*Dragon Ball Z:

It is no secret that I am a big comic-book hero fan. Along side that, I grew up watching DBZ, and as I love the series as a whole, one particular mini arc/character I want to roleplay around, is the best of DBZ and comic-book stuff!

—-The Adventures of the Great Saiyaman!: We can have this set before the World Marital Arts Tournament, or after during some time period of mostly peace. Though, I’d like to focus on Gohan’s time as the superhero, and maybe Videl trying to figure out who is under the mask-prolong that bit of the story. Every good comic character has someone trying to find out who is under the mask. Perhaps we can have it set when Videl is also helping with the 'Saiyamaning ’ around the cities.

*Kingdom Hearts (Series) : 
Who doesn’t love Disney with Final Fantasy, with the touch of organial characters also thrown in? I have two suggestions for this series.

—-Day to day, for some ice cream: 358/2 Days is my favorite title within the series, mainly due to my love of the 'Organization.’(Quotes around that, for anyone fully caught up.)

I’d love to base it close to the manga of the same title, a bit of slice of life, the day in, day out Roxas and his trio going on missions for Xmenas.

—-The Way-finders: Besides Roxas and his trio, I love Aqua and hers. I don’t have many ideas for them however, so feel free tos guest!.

*The Melancholy Of Haruki Suzumiya:

Gender bent Haruhi, ideally we would share the members of the SOS, and play through he events of the series, while adding our own little twists and turns along the way!

*Star Wars Battlefront II (EA)/ Inferno Squad:
 
Like Justice League, recently I have been reading and playing BFII, so I would love to craft a story with the Empire’s Special Forces team- Inferno Squad.
Iden and her team are a fun group, or that’s the feeling I get when reading the novel. We can have it set before the events of the game, but after the book or an AU. 


*Persona 5: 
You’ll never see it coming!



—-The Redemption of Goro Akechi:

Goro, is by far one of my favorite characters of the game. Reading a few fan fics, and the ideas from a roleplay I attempted with someone (before they ghosted me), I have been itching to this idea! It goes off the idea, that the Phantom Thieves, perhaps during the end of Haru’s father’s palace, or during some time through Sae’s, that they discuss Akechi has a palace of his own. Being the people they are, they decide to head in!

We can discuss what Akechi’s palace would be, I have a few ideas already but it is up for debate.

—-Groundhogs’ Day, Phantom Thief Edition.:

Going off the concept, that Joker failed to get Sea to believe him, and ends up dead. Igor, or 'Not-Igor’ is too interested in this game, so decides to send Joker back to the start of the game. (Think New game plus), however, he is the only one with his memories. Will he try to do things different, run into his team in a different order?


 *Power Rangers Universe(s):

—-Power Rangers 2017: 
We can continue where the film ended off, with the inclusion of a new Green/sixth ranger. Of course, adapt a backstory to the more modern stories give to the Rangers here.



 —-Power Rangers Super Mega Force (Retelling) : 
Being a fan of the source material, Kaizoku Gokaigers, I was a bit disappointed in Super Mega Force. Perhaps we can start over from that season, and go a different route, or create a new team who earn the key powers.

—-Power Rangers- HyperForce (Tabletop RPG Team based): 
Now, I have only watched the first episode, but loved it anyway. I love the idea of a time-traveling team of Rangers, and feel it opens to have a lot of fun with.


 Now, the ideas I listed, are only suggestions. If you don’t like them, no worries! We can discuss anything you might have in mind! Thanks for reading!

If interested, feel free to message me here, or email me at: jakerocksok@gmail.com

[a-wayne-at-heart]

HYPNOTISED: A Jason Todd/Red Hood x OC Fan Fic

Summary: Snippets of a blossoming romance between Jason Tood/Red Hood and an original character (named Ima), with other DC characters in supporting roles. Jason falls for a waitress at a diner he frequents with his best friend, Roy Harper. When she is caught in the crossfire between him and Black Mask, he is determined to protect her at all costs. What he does not expect is her falling for him, too. And how much she becomes a part of his - and the Batfamily’s - life.  

** Not strictly canon. Romance + fluff + minor angst. A lot of Batfamily feels. Title from the Coldplay song. Currently 8 chapters long, each one to be posted separately due to length. Editing may occur, depending on inspiration. :) **

Chapters: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight

Seven

He had been patrolling for sixteen hours straight and decided to take a much needed break. Well, partially. This was a stakeout. Three weeks had passed since the warehouse incident and not a day went by when he was not on Black Mask’s trail. The creep was becoming increasingly difficult to track, even for the Bat family’s standards, so he was patient with every lead, no matter how small.

And in spite of having already gathered a mountain of evidence, he was hungry for more, or at least enough to lock Black Mask and his crew away for far longer than the crooked justice system allowed. Enough so that, this time, the powerful Gothamites could no longer bear the shame of their alliances with him. This was personal.  

Bruce would be proud. He chuckled at the thought that he was being more “detective” than “brawler”. Maybe the old man did rub off on him, after all.

"She checks out." Speak of the…

He almost fell off the gargoyle he had been straddling atop one of Gotham's ancient banks. His favorite. With his helmet off, he was about to chomp on a braaibroodtjies, when a familiar black cape whooshed in beside him. Only a few people could sneak up on him like that, and they all belonged to one family.

"Wh-"

"That young African-American waitress you've been harboring in your safe house," Bruce said gruffly, eyes firmly planted on the streets below and setting up a scoping device on the concrete balcony within seconds using short, well-practiced motions. His swiftness would still put men half his age to shame.

"Wait, what? How'd you...?"

"Why does this still surprise you, Red Hood?"

Jason shook his head. This was Batman he was talking to.

"That's, um... good to know. Thanks."

"Although, I'm surprised you didn't look into her background yourself."

"I guess I've just been... preoccupied." He did not have it in him to admit the real reason for it: he felt wrong going behind her back like that. He trusted her, was maybe even in… never mind. He did not need to hear another lecture on how emotional attachments affect “the misson”.

“Hn.” Maybe he already figured it out, anyway.

"The bounty. Which is why you and Arsenal are working together again." It was not a question, rather a statement of fact.

Jason still had connections to the criminal underworld, which was how he had gotten wind of Black Mask’s ominous offer: his and Roy’s heads for a measly billion dollars each. How original. A death threat was nothing new to him. Neither was death itself. If anything, he was more worried about his best friend.    

"Yeah. Good ol' Roy. We've got an international rogues gallery after our asses.” How many superheroes could brag about that?

When Bruce remained silent, he continued. “So, I guess Luke filled you in on the warehouse incident.” This face-to-face conversation was long overdue, with Bruce having just come back from a mission with the new Justice League of America he was mentoring.

“You were careless.” What, no cigar for not dying that time?

“We improvised.” He had only been following Batman’s no-kill rule. He wanted to argue that showing mercy was what got them into that mess. But this was not the time to sass. “I’m surprised you didn’t sic your new Watchtower pals on us.” Okay, maybe just a bit.

"It looked like you two had it under control." Ha. Right. Wait, did he hear that right? Apparently, Jason was not the only one uncharacteristically trusting as of late.

“See, I’m not so sure about that anymore. This girl, Ima… She saw everything, Bruce. She didn’t mean to, had no idea the exchange was happening. She’s innocent, but I doubt that matters to a sociopath like Roman. There may not be a bounty on her head right now -”  

“He may want to deal with her himself.” Bruce’s assessment made him cringe. Over his dead-again body.

Bruce listened patiently as Jason gave him updates, while still monitoring a local pharmacy for any suspicious activity. Although he did not get an invitation to the stakeout, he was grateful that his former Robin did not push him away this time. In spite of having been openly welcomed back into the family, Jason kept his distance, haunted by his past mistakes. He had a hard time accepting their affection, believing he did not deserve it just yet. Knowing that made Bruce’s heart ache.

The last time he saw Jason smiling the way he was now, as if he had not a burden in the world, was before Joker… No. He wanted to tell his son that he was proud of him for having outgrown (most of) his demons, for having become so much more than he gave himself credit for. That he loved him. But there were more pressing matters at the moment. And he did not want to scare him away.  

“... And she and Roy are getting along really well now, which is great! Less headaches for me. Plus, I mean, it’s not like it’s hard to like her, y’know what I mean? She’s pretty, and silly, and - and -”

Jason felt his cheeks turn red. Shut up.

“So, yeah, she’s great,” Jason finished sheepishly. How long was he gushing?  

He cleared his throat before becoming serious once again. If Bruce were at all annoyed by the waste of time, the man sure hid it well. Wait, was he grinning?

Jason slowly ran his hand through his hair, and sighed. “I don’t mind being on the run. I’ve been doing it almost my entire adult life. It’s bad enough that Roy got dragged into it, too. Well, okay, no - he gets half of the blame. But, Ima? I don’t know how I’m supposed to protect her without keeping her a prisoner in that safe house. Her brother gets murdered in cold blood before her own eyes, and she can’t even visit his grave to mourn him. I’m sure she gets lonely, too. And if anything were to happen to me, I don’t know how I’ll be able to -”  

"She can stay."

" - keep her... What?"

"At the manor."

"The manor?"

"Indefinitely."

Jason was rendered speechless. Just like that?

"I'll trust her because I trust you, Jason. You've always had good instincts, only you used to act brashly upon them."

"Bruce, I'm -"

"Not that person anymore," the older man finished for him. "Besides, it could give you an excuse to drop by more often."

It took Jason all of two seconds trying to process what he had just been told, until the sound of a grappling hook whizzing past him brought him back to reality. The cowl and cape were gone. Classic Bruce.

Oh, the old man had conveniently left the scoping device, too.

"Thanks, B."

[thejokersenigma]

Joker x Reader - One Shot Request - No one disrespects the Queen.

Hi guys,

Some I' really excited for this piece of writing because it's my very first request! Thank you to whoever posted this for me to do by the way - I like writing for someone!

This was the request:

Could you perhaps write a oneshot fanfiction with Joker where the reader is badly anorexic? I know it's a touchy subject it's just I personally am struggling with it and feel unlovable. Most people tell me I'm a skeleton and look disgusting. If you are willing too I'd really like to read something like that as I adore your work and reading your fanfics makes me happy. If not it's understandable... Like where J realises she never eats and sees how deathly she looks and tries to help her?

First of all, I was more than happy to write this because I myself have been through anorexia and so I really wanted to cheer this anon up in anyway I could. With that in mind I do apologise if you can't relate to this fic very well, I'm sure everyone who has anorexia goes through things differently, but ive written it the way that I went through by using what I felt and what I experienced.

Other point to make, this is not exactly like what the request asked for as it focuses more on the lack of energy etc. side of it and more of just before help, not the help techniques. If you would like a one shot more on what you asked for feel free to let me know and I'd happily write it but I got caught up in this storyline in my head and didn't want to make it 10,000 words by putting in anymore than what ive done here.

But like i'd said, I'm happy to carry it on if that's something people are interested in.

Sorry about the really long blab above ^^^ I'll get on with the story now.

MASTERLIST

One-shot MASTERLIST

 WARNING: TRIGGERING! Please do not read if anything about anorexia is in anyway way triggering!!!! You have been warned! Pls don't put yourself through pain to read this! xxxxxx

You've been warned!

When I looked at my phone, the clock read nearly 4:30am.

There was a dim light in the room, the summer sun already having risen. I could feel a presence behind me as I lay in bed, and a quick glance over my shoulder confirmed my suspicions – my boyfriend was home.

He hadn’t been 2 hours earlier when - yet again - I had woken up, but now I turned over to watch him, his green hair - usual so neatly styled – dishevelled and fanning out around him on his pillow, his pallor face peaceful, and, though the rings under his eyes still dark, the features on his face were softer somehow.

He was beautiful in his own way, I thought as I admired him lying there. To some people his appearance was terrifying, others found him almost intoxicating. I was one of those. His vibrant red lips, only a short distance away, were addictive and even now I wanted to reach out and trace them. His eyes, hidden though they were in the dark under his eyes lids, were a captivating blue that could pierce into you and I had to stop myself from waking him just to see them.

I didn’t get to do this often. Just be with him. He was always busy doing something, sometimes I wondered if he acknowledged my existence at all or if I was just a convenience, available when he needed me, but otherwise not there.

When we were together I still didn’t feel like we stopped to savour anything, he was always such an urgent person, he didn’t savour many things. So I liked times like this, even is he wasn’t really part of this. I felt like I could step back and just admire him.

As I revelled in his perfectness, I couldn’t help the thoughts now turning to how much I wasn’t perfect. How I was nothing like the man before me. Personality or beauty.

So why was I here?

Why was I the one lying next to him in this huge queen-sized bed in his penthouse?

Was I just a convenience?

I was always waiting for the day he didn’t bring me back here. Or the day he just turned a gun on me. You’d think I’d be scared that this was technically a possibility, but it was weird, I had never felt in danger with him. He clearly trusted me, I thought as I watched his chest rise and fall rhythmically, or else he wouldn’t put himself in such a vulnerable position with me.

But why?

There was nothing about me particularly enticing, nothing to draw someone in – I was a plain girl, untalented, chubby, ungraceful and nothing compared to what he could have.

The minute I once more turned my thoughts down this path, I could feel the invasive thoughts taking other once again, That’s right. The voice said to me, you need to be better. They were right and I was now painfully aware of how many hours I had been lying in the bed. I had to be better.

I rolled back over, sitting up and about to swing my legs over the edge when I felt a strong, muscular arm wrap around my waist and pull me backwards.

My head landed on the Joker’s solid chest and I heard the sleepy mumble close to my ear. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Can’t sleep.” I replied, pulling against his restraint. The voice in my head was louder now. Demanding. I needed to be on my feet now or else I was lazy. Failing.

I pulled against my restraint, almost violently, and J wasn’t expecting it so he released me. I moved back to the end of the bed, immediately pushing myself to my feet. I hugged my arms against myself, instantly freezing when I got out of the warm bed - even in the middle of July. I noticed movement behind me and I turned to see the Joker making a move to get out of bed as well.

“No J.” I told him, leaning over my side of the bed and placing my hand on his chest – immediately the invasive thoughts were back, battling with each. Was this bad? Am I using energy if I’m not supporting my full weight on my legs? But I’m using my arm muscles to keep myself up – so that’s alright – I’m just using different muscles. “You need to sleep.” I said, trying not to show the inner battle inside me.

“And so do you doll.” He retorted grumpily.

“I went to bed early.” I lied, watching him carefully, begging him in my mind to believe me. “J, I’m fine.” I insisted, “Just because I can’t sleep doesn’t me you shouldn’t.” He stared back at me, his eyes clear and penetrating even in the darkness of the room and I was worried he would see through my lie and put up a fight.

He dropped back down onto the bed without a word, turning over so he wasn’t facing me. That hurt a bit, but I was glad he was letting me go. I didn’t hang around, leaving him to get some rest as I walk out the room in silence, grabbing and jumper and then closing the door as quietly as possible behind me.

I wandered from room to room slowly as I pulled my hoody over my head – it was 2 sizes too big for me now.

I didn’t know what to do with myself.

I had all these extra hours now that I didn’t sleep as long, yet nothing to do with them.

I tried to remember what I used to do, but few things appealed to me anymore.

I remembered I used to read a lot, book after book – sometimes finishing a huge novel in a day if I got really into it. Now nothing seemed to hold my attention for long – it was too much effort to get invested in a book and pay attention to it.

I remembered once wanting to write. Now had no imagination, and no will to sit at a computer for hours at a time. Besides I couldn’t now - I would have to stand.

Instead I turned to one of the few activities that I found myself enjoying now – so much so it was what usually got me through the day – watching the cooking channel.

It sounded lame, but for some reason I loved it and found it fascinating. I made my way to the living room, switching on the TV, not surprised when it was already on the right channel (J didn’t watch much TV – he was too busy). And so I watched rerun after rerun of a cooking competition, enthralled in the concoctions and the food porn on the screen.

I didn’t sit on the expensive sofas that graced the high-end flat though, instead I stood, leaning on the back of the chair until I realised maybe I ought not to be leaning – the voice telling me that it wasn’t doing enough –  and I reluctantly pushed myself up so that my leg supported my full weight, my feet already protesting.

No pain, no gain, I thought, shifting my weight from foot to foot to try to relieve the ache a bit. After a while I pulled out my phone and returned to my second favourite pastime – looking at websites for health tips, weight loss tricks and recipes.

I don’t know how long I stood there flicking through tabs and watching Jamie Oliver teach me to roast a Turkey just right (it was a Christmas special on in the middle of July) – probably at least an hour before I couldn’t ignore the pain in my feet anymore and I needed to move.

So I switched to the last thing in my repertoire of hobbies – cooking.

So the rest of the my very early morning was spent cooking up a breakfast for J and any henchman that had to stop by the flat for business.

The oven clock read 8am when I finally allowed myself to have my first meal of the day. (I was ready to eat at 7:56, but it had to be exactly 8 before I allowed myself anything – otherwise the voice told me I’d get too hungry too quickly). I prepped my food – an apple – cut into the thinnest slices I could manage so I felt like I was eating more – and weighed it – 50g = 26 calories. I typed this into my calorie counting app on my phone then proceeded to remove 10g from the scales and threw them into the bin - just to be safe that I wasn’t definitely eating no more than 26 calories.

When I had remeasured the food at least 2 more times to check it was definitely the number I had read I finally allowed myself to sit down on one of the kitchen stools and eat.

I ate away at the thin pieces of fruit, trying my best to eat slowly and make the most of the food, cursing to myself that I couldn’t have waited until later to eat. The problem with getting up early was I had to acknowledge the hunger earlier -  if I managed to sleep later, I could eat later. That then meant that got hungry later and might even be able to skip lunch.

I suddenly felt a shiver wrack through my body even with my oversized jumper and thick pyjamas, and I yearned for a hot drink to warm me up a bit. I could smell the coffee beans that J had from the other side of the room. Even as I considered the temptation of making a cup I was doing the calculations in my head. I couldn’t afford the calories – all 2-9 of them (depending on who you asked) I always counted each cup as 18 calories because that was the highest result I had gotten when I had searched it and I couldn’t risk being wrong.

So instead I stood back up, my feet immediately sore again, and boiled the kettle, pouring myself a mug of hot water. This would do I thought as I sipped at the hot water. It felt wonderful.

My breakfast finished, and still no movement from J, I thought about what to do now. Today was my day off my usual work out – but that didn’t mean it was my day off exercise. I didn’t want to wake J up, but I needed to get out of my pyjamas so I dug around till I found the pile of laundry, clean but not ironed.

I changed in a bathroom down the hall, pulling a fleece over my goosebump riddled arms. I couldn’t believe it was July. Must be global warming or something.

I took the private elevator down to the ground floor and then headed across the large entrance way to the exit. I got a few weird looks on the way out of the building but most of the people around at this time of morning on a Tuesday were business men rushing to meetings and I was too self-conscious to keep much of my gaze higher than the floor immediately in front of me.

I said I would go for a walk. Told myself I would. But I knew I was really going for a run. The good thing about running was – besides the obvious calorie burning – I could run past people before I caught them staring at me.

I started running the minute I stepped onto the pavement. I ran and ran until I couldn’t anymore. Then I would slow to a walk for a few moments before I ran again. I continued this the whole run. I couldn’t run any less than the last time – it always had to be the exact same or more. If it was more – then I would have to meet that next time.

I ran for a good hour. 1:13 to be exact. I did a circuit so I ended up back at the suite.

It was only when I walked back into the pent house, still catching my breath, that I realised the door to the bedroom was open and, when I looked in, the bed was empty. J must have finally got up and probably now working – I wondered if he found the food I’d made him.

I moved to the bathroom, turning on the shower and undressing, having to pause for a moment when I felt a wave of light-headedness wash over me. I sat on the side of the large bath tub, soon letting myself slip off and sink to the tiled floor, my knees folded into my chest and my head in my hands as I tried to breathe evenly, momentarily terrified something bad was happening to me.

I kept breathing myself through it – maybe I’d been overdoing it recently? After a few moments, everything felt fine once more and I pushed myself wearily to my feet – the voice in my head only justifying that I could sit that long thanks to the run I had just done.

Standing upright made me feel woozy again but I persevered anyway, slipping into the shower and moving slowly until I felt a bit better – though it was probably the speed I always moved. Everything I did was now was slow. But everyone had days like that right? When you didn’t have the energy or motivation to move any faster than one slow pace. That was just life – I just happen to do it a lot lately – but was it really slow after all – was I just being silly?

As I stood pondering this I felt cold arms wrap my stomach. I flinched at the contact on an area I felt sensitive about, gasping in surprise, at jumping at the cold touch. “Jeez, doll, this water is boiling.” I spun around to come face to face with the Joker still fully clothed, behind me.

“What are you doing?” I asked in disbelief looking at his shirt which hung open as though he had been in the middle of getting dressed, the water now soaking into the sleeves.

“Trying to see if my little kitten wanted to get hot in a different way then pouring lava on her skin.” He growled teasingly with a wide grin on his face, his hands trailing over my skin and making me goose bump in a non-sexual way. I couldn’t help but shiver against him.

“Ooo doll, do that again.” The Joker purred, pulling me closer so I was pressed against his muscular chest, his cold skin against mine seeming to pull the heat from my body.

“No, J.” I said almost harshly, pushing away from him and stepping back under the powerful shower, hugging my arms to myself and embracing the heat that washed over me.

“Excuse me, doll?” Asked J incredulously, his grin dropping and his eyes becoming dark – like they did when anyone refused him something. But I trusted him to control himself around me.

“I’m sorry J,” I apologised none the less - I didn’t like disappointing him. “I’m just not in the mood.”

He grumbled something indistinctly, his eyes still dangerous, and left in a huff. I was left standing alone in the shower, even colder than before.

  We didn’t really clash for the rest of the day – mostly, I believed, because J did his usual of shutting himself away in the office all day as he carried out his business.

Our relative peace only lasted till that evening however, when J asked invited me to go with him to the club for the evening.

“No thanks, J.” I said, giving my familiar answer as I lounged on the sofa (my first sit down in over 2 hours).

He frowned, his eyes darkening immediately again, not that I noticed – I wasn’t looking at him. He didn’t say anything in reply but he didn’t move either. I had expected him to get his answer and leave – maybe in a huff, but I didn’t have the energy to care. When he didn’t however I turned my head to look at him, frowning at him in question.

“It wasn’t a request this time, doll.” He growled at me in warning.

I was shocked by what he was saying, was he forcing me to go out? “I don’t want to go, J.” I told him calmly, but with a sternness to it.

“I don’t care what you want, doll.” He purred dangerously.

“You can’t force me to go out with you.” I told him, but my voice faltered slightly under his gaze and I knew I could feeling my pulse under my skin. He was starting to scare me.

“Kitten,” He warned, “you’re pushing me and I’m not sure you want to.” There was no smile on his face, his lips a dark red and pressed into a thin line, his eyes looked fierce.

I was frightened now, J hadn’t been like this with me before. Had I pissed him off? I was always worried because of my low mood that I was being moody or annoying to people, but I couldn’t never seem to do anything about.

Now I was stuck in my own mind. I hated that I was letting J down by not wanting to go with him, but I was tired – physically and mentally exhausted. The voice seemed confused too. If I went to the club then I the movement was burning more calories than staying here. But I hated the feeling of exhaustion I got when I was out in public and the fact I would have to make it through the whole night trying to look alive, whilst also coming up with a new reason why I couldn’t have one of the club’s cocktails. J had already asked me several times if I was pregnant. I wasn’t willing to say yes to that to get out of a drink – not yet anyway.

But I hadn’t been to the club in over a month now. J went nearly every night to one or another of his businesses.

I didn’t know what to say to J now. He was still frightening me and I was scared to push him further and unsure what I could say to placate him. All that was running through my head at the moment was the same lame excuses as to why I didn’t want to go – I’m too tired, I don’t even drink, you don’t need me there, it’s not like I’ll do anything but sit and wait for you to finish anyway. I knew J didn’t care about my excuses.

I couldn't meet his eyes anymore, keeping my gaze down. He couldn't stop glaring darkly at me and - if I looked at him now - I was sure I would see the anger darkening his eyes to a stormy blue.

When the silence between us became too much, and I had to look up at him just to try to gage what he was feeling, it was worse than I thought. I was worried what I was seeing was not truly anger, but hurt, as though he was in some sort of pain.

That sight burned me, broke me, and I had to look away, concentrating back onto the thick carpet under my socks, tracing the pattern with my eyes.

“I’m sorry, J” I mumbled at the floor.

“You’re sorry?” He whined, mimicking me cruelly. “You’re sorry?" he asked again. “Your apologies are like cheesy pop songs doll, they just keep playing till people are sick of them!” He sneered.

I didn't know what to say to that - clearly an apology wouldn't be right - so I continued to stare at the floor. It was comfier like this. I liked the fact my neck hung loose, no energy needed to hold it up. I liked the fact I was collapsed on the sofa, all day I wished I could have done it.

“Look at you.” he snarled venomously, gesturing to me as I sat - probably looking like a rejected puppet collapsed against the arm of the sofa and lost amongst the many layers of baggy jumpers and hoodies I wore, "pathetic."

"You’re weak.” He spat, “No spark, no flare, no energy. What is the use of you anymore?" he demanded.

I shook my head at the carpet, each word stabbing and shooting through me like he was firing the weapons I knew were in his pockets. What was the point in me? What was my use anymore? I could feel the tears forming in my eyes and I tried to hold back the tide that now threatened to overwhelm me, covering my face with my hands as if somehow that might help to hold it all back.

“Pathetic.” He snarled again before he spun around and stormed out of the room, leaving me curled into the sofa, no longer able to hold back the emotions. I let out one hiccupping sob and then everything poured out until I was blubbering into the expensive sofa arm.

It wasn’t long before I heard the roar of an engine and the screech of wheel that told me the Joker had left and a new, more intense wave washed over until I was gripping fists of my hair and pulling in misery and frustration.

In a moment of mental clarity, I had a thought.

What was happening to me?

I went to bed early that night, unable to concentrate on anything but on low I was feeling. How nothing was right. How I was starving and wanted food. How I was in pain and hated my workouts, dreaded them every day. How I hated that I hurt people around me – especially J. I didn’t blame him for going off on me, everything he said had been true. I was weak, I was pathetic.

With all these things replaying in my head I slept fitfully that night – never seeming to manage for than 30 minutes before I was awoken by my own mind.

That was why - when the Joker finally returned to the suite at 4am the following morning - I was lying awake. Hungry, thirsty, depressed and stressed, yet too exhausted to anything about any of these things, I just lay staring up at the ceiling in the dark.

When I heard the front door open I knew it would have to be him – security was tight around here, very tight. Not even a henchman was allowed up here if he wasn’t here. None the less I panicked and my every sense focused on his movements through the pent house as I tried to detect when he was getting close to the room.

After a few long agonising minutes, the hallway light was switched on illuminating the outline of the door directly in front of me. I heard the door open and one crack of light enlarged as the bedroom door opened to reveal J’s dark shadow in the doorway. I blinked at the sudden brightness that filled the room.

The silence between us stretched on. I didn’t move and neither did J.

I could have pretended to sleep. Delayed the conversation, maybe even removed the chance to have it.

But I was tired, achy, depressed and starving.

“Help me.” I whimpered into the dark.

I thought the shadow would leave me then. Turn and walk away from the pitiful girl lying on the bed, unable to find anything within her to even sit up. All I do was wait for the shadow to leave the doorway and for the sound of receding footsteps.

But they didn’t.

The shadow moved, but not away. It came into the room, his steps softened by the thick carpet underfoot. I closed my eyes, no longer sure I wanted to do this now.

The next thing I knew I was being scooped up by strong arms and pulling me upright with very little effort until I was cradled in his arms. His chest was hard and cold, but I found it comforting and solid.

“I thought you would have left.” He murmured so quietly I almost couldn’t hear.

I shook my head – hard as it was to do when I was pressed so tightly to his chest.

“The one time, kitten, that the I’m glad you’re not like you use to be.” He said, and I pulled my head up to look him in the eyes, frowning with confusion.

“The old you would never had let me get away with the shit I said to you, doll. You would have up and left whilst preaching about some right you had or something.” He chuckled quietly to himself.  I just cuddled back into his solid chest, showing him in my own silent way that I had no intention to leave. His arms tightened around me even more.

We stayed like that in silence for a while, happy to be in each-others company. It was what I had always wanted between us – for him to slow down for a moment, and I guess I needed to as well. It was a rare kind of sincerity with the Joker.

“I just want to be perfect for you J.” I finally admitted, lifting my head slightly so I could speak.

He didn’t say anything and I wondered if he heard me. I buried once more, embarrassed for confessing something so personal when he didn’t even care to listen.

“You think I would waste my time on someone who wasn’t already perfect?” He asked, and I felt the vibration of his voice through his chest, it comforted me.

I pulled myself away from him again so I could look up at his face, “But your always around all those pretty girls at the club – I’m nothing like them.” I pointed out.

“You don’t think I know that, doll?” He demanded with a frown and I let my head drop – he was annoyed that I wasn’t like them then. “I’m glad you’re not, doll. I’ve been around those sorts of girls for a very long time and none of them have ever come home with me.” He told me, “The first night I saw you I made sure you did.” There was a another pause of silence, both of us lost in our own minds. “That was a long time ago though.” J reminisced, “A time when you looked very different.”

“But why - ?” I pressed, confused by what he was saying – it didn’t make sense to me.

“Because doll, I chose you for more than you’re looks – which I hasten to add are more than adequate!” He said hotly, as though annoyed at my continual denial of this, “And I’ll be sure to correct you when you say otherwise.” He added. “But doll, the first thing I saw with you wasn’t your killer dress or your murderous curves,” He purred teasingly, running his hands up my body as he still held me upright and I squirmed under his touch, uncharacteristically trying to hold back giggles, “it was your personality, your humour, your energy. All of which you are now severely lacking in, kitten.” He pointed out.

At least words any happiness I had built being with him crumbled. “I’m a failure.” I blubbered, feeling myself close to sobbing again.

“You’re not a failure doll,” J said, almost softly, though there was firmness to his voice, “I’m afraid you’re just sane.” He said solemnly, “It’s a terrible disease that grips you – it makes you care too much, it makes you gullible, it makes you greedy for something better and never content to revel in the present.” He rattled off passionately. He switched his arm placement around me so he supported me with only one arm, the other he brought up to my face and tenderly wiped away the tears on my cheeks, “It’s a terrible disease,” He repeated, “It always makes you look for the reason to cry, not to laugh.” He added with a sad smile that I could just make out in the poor lighting.

I gave him a weak smile in return, probably looking a state even in the darkness, and my smile dropped again at the thought. J must have noticed because he moved his hand from my cheek to my chin, tilting my face up so I looked at him in the eye. “That why I’m here though, doll.” He said with a small smile, “I’m the opposite of you, you’re my sanity doll, and I’m your crazy.” He purred lowly, tilting my face more and pulling me up as he leant down and he kissed me.

“I’ll help you.” He promised, “No one disrespects my Queen, especially not the Queen herself.”

tags: @carouselcurls

[thejokersenigma]

Joker x Reader - Deadly Voice Part 45

Hi guys, next bits ready-ish.

Hope you guys enjoy it, I might be a bit busy this week so the next part might be bit delayed, I'll see how I do! :)

Enjoy!

As always -  I'll happily take any requests you want me to give a go. Also if you'd rather read this on something other than tumblr I am on Fanfiction.net, Wattpad and AO3 under a similar username :)

Also if you want to be tagged, just let me know! :)

MASTERIST

 I didn’t see the Joker for the rest of the day. I spent the rest of the afternoon and evening hiding amongst the other rooms in the house, occasionally sneaking into the kitchen for snacks, but generally gravitating to the smaller front room with the piano. I ensured the door was closed and, once I had made a trip to the library – I had a small collection of books to amuse myself with.

Eventually it reached the point that my eyes blurred too much from reading the small text and I gave up for the night, placing my books to the side for tomorrow when I would no doubt return and continue.

I headed straight up the stairs, debating with myself what I should do. Did I return to the Joker’s room? Did I find a new room to sleep in tonight? Either as I considered that though, a new wave of exhaustion washed over me as I climbed the staircase and I doubted I would get away with and I was far too tired to want to put up much of a fight to whoever came to find me.

So, I returned to the Joker’s room, my feet dragging along the carpeted corridor – except from outside the Joker’s office which I made sure to hurry past. I wasn’t sure why – maybe I was worried he’d catch me out there, or maybe I was worried I hear my voice again.

I reached the bedroom door without incident and I stepped into the room, closing the dark heavy door behind me firmly. It was only as I turned to face the rest of the room again that I realised there was a chance I wasn’t alone in here. A quick scan of the room showed no one, but I still snuck quietly around the rest of the room, checking the smaller roads that led off. Only when I confirmed these to be clear, could I then allow myself to relax a little.

I headed back to the walk-in closet, this time clocking the fact that the heap of clothes I had left earlier that day was missing. I dug back through the cupboards, searching for the Joker’s shirt and sweatpants – assuming someone had tidied up after me – but they had vanished completely from the room.

“Fine,” I muttered under my breath, “I’ll just sleep in what I’m wearing.” I huffed in annoyance and left the closet, refusing to give into the frilly small pieces of fabric that still sat in my side of the wardrobe.

Once using the bathroom and ready to turn in, I headed to the large 4 poster bed. I stood at the side of it, eyeing up the large, heavy queen-sized duvet. The bed almost looked intimidating to me and it was weird to think I was going to willingly climb into the Joker’s bed – everything about my situation right now told me not to do it, but I felt I had no other option right now – the Joker had made that clear to me and Frost had confirmed it when he seemed to think I had narrowly missed a far worse consequence last time.

Besides, the pillows did look comfy.

I pulled back the duvet partially - ready to climb into the tall bed – when I discovered a small pile of clothes in front of me on top of the sheet. I frown in confusion, reaching for the piece of clothing on the top, unfolding it and holding it up in front of me. My heart jumped a bit when I realised it was the ARKHAM sweatpants I had borrowed last night, and, yes, now I looked down at the neatly folding shirt left on the bed – that was the same shirt I had worn last night.

My eyes widen in surprise and a I felt a small smile rise on my face. I quickly caught it, stamping it down. Shit. At least the Joker wasn’t here to see it – who knew that him just letting me wear the clothes I’d stolen would make me that happy.

Stupid. I cursed before grabbing the clothes and changing into them – relishing in the bagginess compared to the skinny jeans and tight-fitting T-shirt I had been wearing.

I climbed into the bed, relaxing onto the cushiony pillow and thick spongy mattress. I revelled the luxurious softness around me as I lay there, staring up at the dark canopy above. My mind wide awake.

The Joker sat at his desk reading and rereading the same blue print, his mind unable to concentrate - the voices unusually loud in his head.

He grabbed at his head, curling his fingers into claws into his hair, growling angrily. “Shut up!” He snarled, pulling at the green strands, not caring or noticing the pain in his scalp. The voices didn’t listen though, if anything they increased through his frustration.

He clenched him jaw, his teeth protesting under the force. They had seemed louder all day since the silence of last night. It made it impossible to think straight – not that he usually did - but to plan a heist needed some clear thoughts. He blamed [Y/N]. She had taken away his blissful ignorance. She had quietened them for a small moment, just long enough to show him what it could be like and now they were back – louder than ever. It was torturous.

Speaking of [Y/N].

Her voice was echoing around his large office along with the keys of the old piano, as he replayed the CCTV camera footage from the front room earlier this afternoon. The Joker pressed a button on the keypad on his right and one of the many screens in front of him flickered, the music cutting out and now there was a different camera footage of a different room of the house, the icon blinking in the upper right-hand corner showing it was live.

It was his room.

He had heard her pass his office as she had headed up the stairs and along the corridor – her light footsteps completely different to the thudding of the henchman that he usually heard outside his door. He watched as she entered into the room from the bottom of the screen, moving slowly around the room and obviously suspicious, before she disappeared back into the walk-in closet. He smirked to himself – he liked how he made her so uncomfortable and nervy.

He waited for her to return - his eyes not leaving the black and white screen – and a few moments later she did. He wasn’t surprised to see that she hadn’t got changed – the girl was stubborn if nothing else. He watched her walk across the room, never breaking his gaze from the moving image.

She paused at the bed, hesitating before pulling back the cover and then pausing again. The distance of the camera meant he couldn’t see clearly what the black smudge on the bed was, but the Joker knew. Per his orders, the staff of the house had tidied up the clothes left in the closet and had laid out [Y/N]’s makeshift ‘pyjamas’ on the bed for the evening.

The Joker couldn’t be sure, but he thought the pixels of [Y/N]’s face had formed a brief smile.

I tried to sleep for hours.

I finally managed to drift off to sleep for a few moments, before I awoke once more. I looked at the time and groaned in annoyance when I found I had been asleep for no more than 20 minutes. I turned over for the billionth time, groaning again into the pillow.

I wished this night was over. I was sick of lying in this bed and not getting any sleep when I felt so exhausted, yet my mind would not silence long enough for me to sleep.

After a while of lying face down in the pillow I found my breathing becoming restricted so I turned my head, lying so I stared wake awake at the empty pillow across from me.

Where was the Joker? – Not that I wanted him here – But it must be at least 2am by now – was he sleeping somewhere else? Or was he just not going to sleep at all?

I remembered the tired look in his eyes that I had noticed earlier, the dark shadows that framed his cheeks. That man needed some sleep – maybe then he’d had fewer mood swings all the time.

Before I knew what I was doing, I was climbing out of bed and making my way to the bedroom door, swinging it open and striding out into the hallway. Without much of a falter, I took the right direction down the dark corridors and began to head to the staircase.

Now would be a good time for common sense to break through and for me to actually stop and think what I was doing.

But I didn’t.

I just continued on my path, pushing any thoughts, apart from the direction I was heading in, out of my mind.

That was, until I bumped into a solid post.

“Ah!” I cried as I stumbled backwards. I probably would have overbalanced and fallen over my own feet as well if it wasn’t for the fact that a strong hand reach out and grabbed one of my arms. I was yanked back upright – none too softly – and I toppled forward instead, colliding once more with the hard post in front of me.

I flung my arms out to save myself and ended up wrapping them around the pillar – only to find it wasn’t a pillar or a post.

It was a man’s body.

I abruptly pushed myself off the poor man I had just assaulted, mumbling a quick apology. Somewhere in the dark corridor a light was hit and a dim light came on over our heads – though even this was blinding to my eyes for a few moments. I squinted at the man in front of me and, even though my vision was still not quite clear, the green hair and pale skin could only belong to one person.

I had just collided into the Joker.

“Where do you think you’re going, doll?” He asked smoothly, but his voice held a warning in it and he hadn’t released my arm.

“Um – uh – I - .” I stuttered, the surprise encounter making me lose my chain of thought.

“Spit it out doll.” He pressed, irked by inability to speak coherently and he pulled my arm impatiently.

“Well you see, Mr Joker, I –“ I began, my exhausted mind finding an explanation that didn’t sound ridiculous difficult and deciding being cringingly polite was the right way to go about this.

“J.” He corrected.

I frowned up at him, “What?” I asked crudely.

“Call me J, doll.” He clarified, “None of that formalness.” He brushed away my previous remark.

“Ok – well, ‘J’” I started again, “I couldn’t sleep and I –“

“Thought you’d take a moonlit stroll, doll?” He asked snidely.

“No, I –“

“Thought you’d go sightseeing?” He interrupted again. “Secret admirer waiting for you?” He kept pressing, each question more sounding more scathing then the last.

“No.” I snarled, “I thought I’d see if you were going to sleep at all tonight!” I cried out, angrily, annoyed at his sardonic attitude when I was just trying to be nice to my host. “But I can see you’re just going to snarky and rude – so goodnight!” I snapped and spun back the way I had come, snatching my arm free from his hand.

There was pause for a beat as I headed off down the corridor, back the way I had come, before my upper arm was grabbed from behind, “Aww, but doll.” The Joker protested as he pulled me to a stop. I refused to turn around, so he stepped around me till I was forced to face him. I dropped my gaze, even though I couldn’t actually see his face very well now, having left the light behind us in the few strides I had taken. “My snarkiness is only redeeming quality.” He explained teasingly to the top of my head, until he gripped my chin, pulling it up, “Don’t make me get rid of that!” He cried dramatically, but I refused to be placated, keeping my frown in place.

I wrenched my chin from his grip and went to push by him. But he caught me as I moved past, winding his arm around my waist and holding me in place whilst he stepped behind me and held me against his chest.

“I’ll make you a deal, I’ll go to bed, if you go to bed, what da’ya say?” He breathed into my ear, his voice suddenly laced in a seductive tone. His warm breath in my ear and the promises in his voice made me weak and giddy, though I knew it was all wrong.

“I’d say why does everything have to be a deal with you?” I asked shakily, trying to sound strong - though I was anything but that right now – and trying to inch my body away from his own, worried it would betray me.

“Because then I know you’ll uphold your end of the bargain, doll.” He purred, running his free hand down the side of my body, keeping his face close to my ear and pulling me tighter against his chest as he felt my resistance.

“Fine.” I said quickly – anything to get out of this situation right now – and pulling against him again. This time he let me go, staying in place whilst I stepped ahead, turning back to him. “I’m going to bed.” I told him firmly and hurried off down the corridor, practically fleeing and half hoping he wouldn’t follow me.

Why couldn’t I have just stayed in bed? Now I didn’t know what was going to happen but I was pretty sure I had just convinced an insane murdering lunatic to come and sleep in bed next to me.

I was messed up.

I found the room quickly, closing the door behind me – as though, somehow, that would be a deterrent to him – and climbed into bed in the dark. I pulled the covers over me and curled into a tight ball - pretending to be asleep, or at least close to asleep – praying for the slimmest hope that the Joker might just leave me in peace then.

I heard movement down the corridor outside the room and my heart raced. Then the door opened, the bottom scraping along the thick carpet, and then it closed with a frim thud. I screwed my eyes closed tightly but I couldn’t help my ears focusing on every little noise, the tread of footsteps on the carpet, the sound of the tap turning on in the bathroom.

Finally, after many tortuous moments that seemed to take far too long, the bed sunk behind me and I felt a body lie next to mine. I tried to keep my breath even and slow like I was sleeping and I thought I was safe when nothing happened for a few moments.

I jumped, however, when I felt something brush my back and then familiar arms snuck around me, pulling me back against the same hard chest as earlier.

“Why so tense, doll?” J breathed into my hair, making a shiver shoot down my back. I could feel every muscle was wound ridiculously tight, unsure what was happening or would happen next. “Relax.” He breathed again next to my ear. I needed to get his hands off my body. This was wrong. This was why I hadn’t wanted to sleep in this room in the first place.

But I didn’t do anything. It was like I was frozen in place, waiting for something to trigger me into action.

“Speaking of deals…” He purred, referring back to our conversation a few moments ago, “I know a sure way to put a smile on your face…” He purred suggestively, pulling me closer and running his left hand down my body.

I could feel myself trembling under his touch, “No.” I said firmly, trying to pull away as much as I could, but slightly afraid to as well - not sure what he would do at my refusal, this was a crazed murderer after all. His hand froze on my hip at my reaction and I was worried what he was about to do, but then he withdrew it slowly, as though not to spook me.

“Doll?” He asked, but I didn’t move for a few moments, I couldn’t hear any anger or danger in his voice, but I was still afraid in case I set him off. “Doll?” He asked again, moving to grab me, but I shuffled away from him slightly before I then sat up, looking down at my lap. I took a breath and collected all the courage I had left.

I turned to him with confidence I didn’t feel, a professional air about me as though we were in one of his meetings, not both in bed together. “How about we make another deal.” I proposed. He watched me in the darkness, “You accused me that declining your offers out was cheating, right?” I asked quickly before he could interrupt me, the darkness hiding his face which helped my confidence a bit. I thought I saw him nod, “Well,” I continued, “I won’t cheat by refusing to do things, if you don’t cheat by making sexual advances on me, deal?” I asked hurriedly and I wondered if he actually understood a word I had so, or if I had spoken too fast.

He seemed to regard this in silence for a few moments and I was petrified he’d say no – I didn’t have any other ideas to get out of this situation I had made. “You drive a hard bargain, kitten.” He drawled, as though still thinking about his options, “Deal.” He finally declared, his voice not giving away any emotion.

In the dark I felt him shift on the bed so he no longer faced me, I lay back down, staring up at the darkness once more.

“Um – J.” I asked into the darkness.

“What doll?” He asked, sounding a bit irked and a bit tired.

I hesitated a moment, worried it was a stupid question and he’d just get angry – but I wanted to know, “Why are you still in your clothes?” I had felt the buckle of his belt on my back and his shirt on my skin when he held me.

“I sleep in the nude.” He told me, “Didn’t think you’d appreciate that, kitten."

“Uh – no.” I stuttered in surprise. “T-thanks.” I could feel my cheeks burning and I was glad for the darkness and his back being turned. None the less I swear I heard him chuckle at me.

 tags: @6fish6 @carouselcurls @theartistdetective @viraldragonrider @white-chocolate-mocha-fan @toxic-ink

[thejokersenigma]

Joker x OC - Fan Fiction Request - Strictly Business Part 2

Hi guys, this is the part 2 to the fan fiction request I got from an anon:

Hi there! I have a request if you don't mind ;) How about Joker got obsessed with a married woman? I'm just dying to see what he's going to do. I don't want to limit your imagination, but still a little application... I just see that marriage was more like marriage of convenience in a good way. Maybe this woman and her husband are like business partners too.

I apologise now, I felt like I was losing the Joker character a bit, so if you feel that I do apologise - I'll try better in the next part!

I hope you enjoy anyway and that it's still what the anon wanted! :S

P.S If you want to be tagged in any of my work let me know (and which pieces you want to be tagged in!)

Also, I welcome any requests you'd like to throw in my direction, be it Joker or other fandoms - I'll give anything a go! :D

MASTERLIST

Strictly Business MASTERLIST

The Joker’s breath on my neck was sending shivers down me, his hand at my hip heated the skin beneath and the knife point dug into my back. I tried to shift away from his contact - the sensations from his touch overwhelming me in a way that alarmed me, almost pushing the knife to the back of my mind. I tried to shift my body away from him - but his grip just tightened on me, holding me in place. I bit my bottom lip, to hold back any noise as the knife dug deeper into my lower back, my eyes still on the crowd, focused on my husband on the other side of the room, still attempting to get him to look at me.

“He doesn’t notice, doll.” Purred the Joker, “He doesn’t care…” He drawled sardonically, like a devil on my shoulder, his warm breath heating my neck and the warming sensation running down my entire body. Suddenly I no longer felt the knife on my back, instead his now-free left hand reached for my other hip. “He doesn’t appreciate you like a real man should…” He growled huskily, his hands running up my sides and burning their own path up my body.

I swallowed thickly, closing my eyes and losing sight of Mathew, embarrassed by how turned on I was by this man that just a moment ago had wielded a knife at me. I had always prided myself on being clear and calculating at all times -  straight minded, never gullible. But this man – this criminal – he was able to just touch me, say a few crude words and I was at a loss as to who I even was or what I should be doing.

I should be frightened, terrified for my life. And I was. But that was very quickly fading to be replaced with something I had never experienced before and – though it alarmed me – I couldn’t deny the fact that I liked it. Wanted it. In this very moment, nothing else crossed my mind but the sensations running through my body and the little niggling fact that this was really wrong. Though, right now, I couldn’t remember why. The ability to protest and attempt to move from his touch – even if he let me – was severely lacking.

His left hand had now moved to my bare shoulder and he slid his palm down my arm - the touch leaving goosebumps in its path - until his pale fingers enveloped mine.

“How about I be your stand in man for the night, doll?” He asked in my ear, and I could almost feel the roguish smirk on his face behind me.

“What?” I asked surprised, causing me to open my eyes, his words only having just gained meaning in my clouded mind. A moment ago, he had been declaring to me he was about to rob the place, now he was asking – what was he asking?

“A little service I’ll supply, kitten, if you keep your pretty lips shut on the robbery.” He murmured seductively at my neck.

I kept my gaze ahead, refusing to look at him in case my mind was only further clouded, “W-why would I want that?” I asked in surprise – though every part of me screamed that I wanted that.

With a soft tug at my hand, he signalled for me to turn and I let him pull me round until I faced him. I didn’t immediately look at his face, keeping my gaze low at his exposed chest – not that the view was helping me focus any better. He didn’t say anything until I looked up, meeting his clear blue eyes more and forcing myself to swallow again as my throat went dry.

Content that I was looking at him again, he continued, “You can be my queen for the night,” He purred down at me,” His eyes bright and excited, “And I’ll be a bit of candy for your arm,” explained, with a devilishly grin and a wink, “I’ll make your little ex-man jealous.” He added, and I thought I saw his eyes darken slightly at the mention of Mathew.

I scowled at him, “Mathew’s my husband, not my ex!” I told him, confused why he would say that.

“Oh?” He said, raising his invisible eyebrows in question, “I don’t see a ring on your finger.” he said innocently, pulling up the hand he still held until it was between us. He released enough of my hand to show that my fingers were bare. I frowned in confusion - I was sure I had been wearing it. I didn’t wear it a lot, but at any event like this it was always reliably found on my left ring finger, I even remembered putting it on earlier because it took me a while to find it.

The Joker watched my confusion, his face innocently impassive, but I saw the humour shining in his eyes and I scowled at him suspiciously. He released my hand completely now and I let it drop as I watched him open his empty left hand, palm facing me. He then flicked his hand so quickly I barely saw the movement and - by some sleight of hand - he now had my wedding band between his thumb and forefinger, a wide grin on his face.

“Now you’re single, doll.” He said with a smirk, “How about a dance?”

I wanted to say no. Didn’t I?

No words left my mouth as I fought an inner battle. Everything in me was screaming not – he was criminal – a crime lord in fact – who had threated to, and still could easily, carve me up with the knife in his pocket if I made a false move. But something about him seemed to appeal and fascinate me, sparking a new voice in my head to want to agree to his offer – a voice which was loudly having a tantrum against any reason given by the sane parts of my mind.

Despite the war in my head, when the Joker held out his hand for mine I had the urge to be young and carefree again and I roughly shoved aside my common sense and took the hand that was offered - deciding to do something risky and poorly thought out one more time in my life.

The Joker gripped my hand firmly - as though sealing my fate and preventing me from backing out of my decision - and he pulled me along with him into the small group of couples who were spinning aimlessly on the dance floor.

The Joker stopped in an empty space and pulled me toward him, his left hand taking my right and lifting his up, his other right hand finding my back as I gingerly placed my hand on his shoulder. He noticed my hesitation, “I won’t bite, doll.” He promised, before bending down to my ear, “Unless you beg for it.” He breathed, and I could feel my temperature rise by a few degrees as my cheeks flared. I couldn’t meet his eyes, instead, keeping my gaze to my feet as I tried to recall the steps for this dance, attempting to ignore the chuckle from the man in front of me as he laughed at my embarrassment.

 “Does your hubby dance with you, doll?” He asked and I brought my gaze back to his to see a grin on his face that suggested he already knew the answer.

I scowled at him and his smugness, “If I’m going to do this with you,” I told him, “You’re going to have to not bring him up.” I warned.

He raised his eyebrows dropping his face in an aggregated frown, mocking my seriousness, but also seeming to understand he had hit a tender spot because he agreed grudgingly, “Alright doll, new topic.”

He gazed around the hall before his wide smile sprang back into place, causing – I noticed – the dark shadows under his eyes to lighten slightly, “So tell me doll,” he began, still facing into the crowd, “who’s worth the effort of robbing in this puffed up parade.” He asked, glancing sideways at me with interest, the live band to my right just finishing the song.

I looked at him, outraged – so he was still set on robbing the place - “I’m not telling you that!” I cried indignantly as the next song started up behind my back and the Joker kept us swaying.

“Come on now, doll, play the game!” He whined, his eyes teasing, “Make me guess and I’ll get it right,” he warned, and the gleam in his eyes told me he was telling the truth, “Now’s your chance to change that – take control of the pieces and rig the game for yourself.” He said, spinning us around in time to the music.

My hair danced on my shoulder, a few strands flying out to the side as we twirled, and I realised he was right. I liked to think I had a slightly unique take on this world – one few others in this room had because I hadn’t been born into money. I hadn’t been granted my high-ranking job because of my money and power, I had crawled from nothing to everything. I knew how to play the game and I saw things the rest of them didn’t. Like how the man in front of me didn’t quite fit into this sort of company, but they just didn’t see him or his brightly coloured hair – he wasn’t an important CEO or tradesman so they were blind to him – he might as well no existent. They had eyes for the deals. I had eyes for everything and anything I could use to my advantage.

I had the rare opportunity here to directly affect a few choice individuals whose losses would only give me more gain. I stared over his shoulder at nothing as I thought things through. I then my gaze back to this where he had been watching my face intently, I gave him a hard stare and then slowly and deliberately turned my gaze to certain individuals, letting my eyes linger on them for a few moments on each of them.

The Joker watched my every movement, noting the people I highlighted, “Much appreciated, doll.” Chuckled the Joker with a grin, clearly pleased by my willingness to play along.

I comforted myself with the fact I hadn’t actually ‘pointed’ them out - I had just happened to look at them a bit longer - no words had left my lips.

They would probably only lose a few hundred grand after all -  nothing for these people – but maybe just enough to knock them off their high pedestals and allow me to seize a few rare deals that might suddenly become available.

We continued to dance for the rest of the song until the Joker slowly stepped us to the side of the open floor, “Sorry, doll - duty calls.” He grinned devilishly before disappearing amongst the crowd, blending in with the many suits even with his vibrant hair.

I remained where he left me for a few moments before I gathered myself together and wandered to one of the refreshment tables, seeking a strong drink to try to knock some sense back into me.

The moment had been nice whilst it lasted, I thought, as I sipped my glass of whiskey, but now I needed to think straight again. The alcohol heated my throat and burnt a hot path down my body as I swallowed. All to similar what he had made me feel with his touch alone, I thought, immediately regretting my choice of drink and downing the rest quickly, making a face at the punch of sharp alcohol on my taste buds. I reached for a glass of champagne instead – maybe I needed to drink myself through this whole thing, I thought to myself as I pulled out my phone and started checking my emails.

Just then Mathew approached my side, I gave him a weak smile of greeting, but he didn’t return it, instead he immediately turned so he was directly in front of me, his back to the rest of the crowded room, “Who was that you were dancing with?” He asked, trying to act nonchalant but I could see through him.

Now was my chance to say. Now I could stop the thefts, save everyone a bit of money – be a hero, maybe even get the police here in time to catch him red handed. I didn’t bother to look up from my phone at him. “No one.” I answered simply.

I heard Mathew huff beside me, immediately accepting my answer as truth, “Next time try to catch someone who could actually be of use to us.” He scolded me. I didn’t show a sign of listening – deciding to ignore him this time like he had ignored me earlier when I had needed his help.

He remained in front of me for a few moments as I typed away at my device and I knew what he wanted – he wanted me to ask how his talks and bargaining had gone – probably because he had managed to make a deal he wanted to brag about. But I wasn’t in the mood to boost his ego anymore, to be honest I wanted him gone.

It didn’t take long for him to leave – though I doubted it was due to my subtle hinting – returning to his schmoozing of the more important people in the room.

I hadn’t let my expression change when he had stood next to me, but now I allowed myself to feel the harsh sting. Was that all I was now? I thought to myself - just a body to throw at possible clients or CEOs to seduce them into deals? I was quite happy using myself for that – it was my choice – but when someone else was using me that way it kind of hurt. I had more to offer than that. What about all the times I had come in with right word just at Mathew was about to blow a deal, or riled someone up too much? And what about all the success I had managed before he had arrived on the scene a year ago? Was that worth nothing anymore?

I kept my eyes on my phone, trying to distract myself with the screen, but I was shocked when I felt a tear roll down my cheek. I hadn’t cried in years – I couldn’t afford to – there were no feelings in this game, it made you weak – especially if you were a woman, men were looking for any reason they could find to feel superior over females in this world.

I blamed the Joker for making me this pathetic – for making me feel again. Or maybe it was my fault – maybe, against my better judgement – I had thought my marriage was based off more than a list of conditions and a signed contract – no longer just a simple mutual benefit - but of something else?

But clearly not.

Huh, I smirk glumly to myself, looked like I had gained feelings for Mathew as he had lost them toward me.

I picked up one of the napkins next to me, wiping at an invisible lipstick smudge in the glass window behind me, quickly bring it up to brush at my eyes so no one saw my weaknesses on display.

A hand suddenly grabbed my upper arm and I jumped at the touch, immediately spinning around to come face to face with a familiar pale, tattooed face again.

“Not bad tonight, doll.” He praised with his familiar grin, and - if he saw my tears - he didn’t comment on them, “but I know for a fact that you cheated me out of some serious buck.” He continued, eyeing me seriously, though he didn’t seem too disappointed about it, and his eyes held no danger. “So, doll - tell me – who is the richest in the room?” He asked with a sly grin, intrigued.

I was glad he hadn’t seen my tears, or was choosing to ignore them, I didn’t want to explain myself – it would be embarrassing, complicated and a bit of me worried I would go down in his opinion. I sniffed once, blinking away any remaining waterworks and emotions before facing his question with my usual composure.

I knew I shouldn’t answer truthfully – should lie – but I also knew that when I was around him my morals seemed to go out of the window – he seemed to spark odd behaviour in me, a crazy and daringness that I never usually felt. And right now, when I was slowly feeling myself crumble under my new realisations and the alcohol in my system – I really needed something like that. I was feeling reckless.

“You’re looking at her.” I said simply with a smart smirk.

A light lit up in his eyes that I couldn’t understand and he grinned widely at me. “In that case, doll, you owe me another dance.”

I knew the last thing I should do was spend more time with the criminal, but I also didn’t want to stand on the side-lines with my thoughts right now. The truth was, I wanted to be lost in the moment with him again like I had been earlier, where I hadn’t had a thought for anything but the unusual and alluring man in front of me.

I didn’t get a chance to reject his offer however - even if I wanted to – as the Joker took advantage of my hesitation and grabbed me, pulling me back onto the dance floor. I followed after him, and he pulled me back up against him, resuming our previous position, but this time he seemed to hold me closer and tighter than before – but maybe that was just me.

We danced in silence for a few rotations around the floor, this time I initiated the conversation, “so have you done it?” I asked, looking up at him, intrigued.

Humour shone in his eyes, “Ooh, kitten, are you taking an interest in my work?” He asked with a mischievous grin, “Yes, doll, it’s all set up.”

“So now you make your grand escape?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

He laughed, the sound slightly haunting and causing me to shiver, “That’s the plan, doll.”

“How are you going to do it?” I asked as though I was wondering nothing but how he was going to afford a new car, or catch a taxi. I was truly feeling careless and free with him, my insecurities and worries gone with his presence and one too many glasses of champagne.

“There are plenty of options, doll.” The Joker grinned as we continued to sway to the music, I could just walk out the same way I came in.” He purred, his breath brushing the top of my head.

“Boring.” I said simply, my eyes staring, unseeing over his shoulder and my voice catching in my throat as the warm air fanning through my hair.

“I could kill you and a few others,” he proposed, “and disappear in the ensuing chaos.” The growl in his voice rumbled through his chest and resonated through my own body that was closely pressed to his.

“Boring.” I said, again, not deaf to the darkness in his growl, but still unfazed by the comment on my possible murder. His words meant nothing to me whilst I was here in his arms, I felt safe despite his words and, when I pulled back enough to see his face clearly, I could see no danger in his eyes.

His eyes seemed to grow hungry then as he studied my face and reaction, “I could take you as a hostage,” He growled, “Bet your pretty husband over there would pay a hefty sum for you.” He snarled, a strange anger seeming to overcome him.

At the mention of Mathew, I could feel my face drop, suddenly reminded of my earlier pain, “Good luck with that.” I scoffed, still hurt, “I doubt I’m important enough for that. You’d be better off with someone like Bruce Wayne,” I suggested bitterly, “he’s all my husband cares about at the moment.”

“Ah, but is he here in my arms, doll?” Joker teased with a grin, though this eyes still seemed to have a shadow over them.

I ignored his joking, turning my head so I now gazed out the large glass window to my left, the view extending over the sprawling city lit up below us. “Even if he did pay, that would be it.” I mused glumly, “He wouldn’t bat an eyelid at the amount you demanded – he’s rolling in it.”

I paused as I stared out at the city, thinking things through in my mind, I was surprised when the Joker didn’t say anything, happy for me to sit in my thoughts as we twirled across the floor. “And that’s not what you want,” I said after a moment, turning back to face him and eyeing him in thought. He sneered at me, entertained by how serious I suddenly was, clearly working something out in my mind. “You want something that’ll shake them, not just hit their wallets,” I predicted his excitement infectious, “you want to throw them into chaos so they all start to claw each other apart.”

I didn’t notice the flicker of surprise in his eyes, too busy now staring at the floor at my right, my mind calculating. “No,” I said, more to myself than to him, “In a room full of money it’s image, not cash, that is the most powerful.” I muttered. I then abruptly turned back to him, “For the people in this room I recommend bribery.” I told him formally, “Far more lucrative.” I added. “And what you have before you is a women who has been forced into many gossip sessions, group therapy and scandalous Chinese whispers for many years - I know dirty secrets on at least half of his room which would cause at least a few rifts.

“Suggest you can reveal those,” I said, “and these people will grovel at your feet.”

He eyed me seriously, his eyes dark and menacing and I wondered if I had over stepped an odd boundary he had. His eyes were hard and calculating as he thought through what I had suggested.

Suddenly – as though someone had flicked a switch – he changed, his eyes now excited and hungry again, his grin spreading back across his face. “Fancy a duet, doll?”

I gave him a sweet, misleading smile, “Sorry, no, doll.” I said with an exaggerated pout, relishing in the grin dropping from his face. He gripped me tightly as we spun, pinching my skin, but I refused to flinch or recoil from the pain. I could see his eyes darken as he caught on, but I continued anyway. “You see, whilst you were off setting everything up for your big ‘heist’, I was also busy,” I explained, “- busy locating all the men you had waiting in the wings ready for the main event. After all - I knew you couldn’t do this all on your own.” I added with a cheeky wink, the Joker’s eyes stormy under the dark shadow of his brow.

“I have alerted security to your plan and informed them of your men’s whereabouts and - given their average response time – I would imagine they will be descending on them at any moment.” I predicted and, as I spoke, sirens erupted in the distance. I couldn’t stop a smug grin appearing on my face as we kept spinning on the dancefloor, the Joker’s eyes dark, but his face emotionless.

He seemed to be lost in his own mind for the moment and he let me direct our dance without resistance, so I headed the back of the room, breaking off our dance at the edge of the room by a fire exit.

I turned back to him, my face serious, “As a thank you – however - for the dances, I’ll give you one chance to escape.” I told him firmly. “If you take the hall to the right you’ll find the coat closet – take a hooded one and get out of here.” I instructed before turning back to the party, ready to leave this behind me.

Just as I went to step forward an arm coiled around my chest, roughly pulling me backwards and I stumbled into his chest. I flinched as I felt a familiar blade at my exposed throat, I struggled against him, trying to crane my neck as far away from the offending weapon as I could. “What’s to stop me slitting your pretty throat right now, doll?” He hissed in my ear and now I was terrified, no longer safe in his arms.

“N-nothing.” I croaked out honestly, the movement in my throat only pressing my skin into knife. I panted in his arms, still using all my muscles to stay away from the edge of the blade.

Suddenly the knife was gone from my throat and I was pulled roughly around until I faced him again, the momentum momentarily unbalancing me, giving him enough time to take me by surprise and yank me forward until his lips were on mine.

His lips were cool on mine, firm and possessive, and I melted into them in that moment that seemed to last forever, and yet was over all too quickly.

He pulled back just as abruptly, his eyes still dark and hungry, but now he wore a mischievous grin on his face as he stepped backwards towards the exit, “See ya’ around, doll.” He promised with a low growl before he disappeared through the fire exit.

A moment later, security burst through the front door, the police at their heels, all armed and alert, aiming their guns throughout the room, calling for the crime lord who was just escaping in a stolen trench coat down the fire exit, before jumping onto the nearest room top and running off on foot into the night, leaving the screaming sirens behind him.

I never got my wedding ring back.

tags: @carouselcurls @aqswdefrgthzjukilop @toxic-ink @6fish6 @theartistdetective @white-chocolate-mocha-fan @blondieinthecity @cybergingersalad @viraldragonrider

(sorry if you didn't want to be tagged - I thought I'd just do my Deadly Voice list! :) )

[thejokersenigma]

Joker x Reader - Deadly Voice Part 44

Hi guys, back for the next part!

It's quite a long one, but nothing much exciting really happens, but you'll be glad to know that the part after this is nearly finished so it shouldn't take too long to get the next bit out!

Anyway, Enjoy! :)

(Thank you so much for all the encouraging likes and messages you guys send me! I literally live off all of your support! xx)

I you would like to be tagged let me know, or if you have any requests I will happily give them a go! :)

P.S If you've asked to be tagged and I haven't done so on this piece can you let me know again? I am trying to make a list but I can't remember who's asked me! Sorry I'm really forgetful!

MASTERLIST

When I work up I briefly noted how bright the room was before I then closed my eyes again, snuggling back into the bed, drawing the covers tighter around my chilled shoulders, intent on trying to cling to the remains of my slumber and maybe fall back to the peace that was my sleep.

But I couldn’t stop the brightness penetrating through my thin eyelids and I could feel I had lost that small hope of sleep and I drifted back to reality once again. I still refused to open my eye though - enjoying just lying in bed – and I began my usual ritual of running through the list of today’s tasks I needed to get done.

That was when my memory flooded back to me.

I felt the panic surge through me, my heart pounding. Shit.

What was going on?!

I shouldn’t have a duvet. I shouldn’t a pillow.

I should be in a bare room filled with old dusty furniture and I should be lying on a bare mattress.

I opened my eyes now - cautiously in case I wasn’t the only person in the room – to see that I was lying on my right side facing a wall of familiar dark green wallpaper with gold swirling patterns. I glanced down the length of the bed and - sure enough - there was the large glass doors that led onto the balcony.

I was back in the Joker’s room again.

I cautiously turned over, searching for anyone else in the room with me. No one. I was alone. But this was definitely the Joker’s room.

Maybe one of the henchmen had moved me - maybe it was Frost. If I could find him quickly I could - not only talk to him about personal boundaries - but also convince him not to tell the Joker I had disobeyed him. I didn’t really want him to know if I could help it. Maybe then I could talk to him civilly about new sleeping arrangements if I ever saw him within the next week.

Whatever I was going to do, I wasn’t going to get anything done lying here. I shoved myself upright and began to shuffle myself to the side of the bed, just swinging my legs over the side when the bathroom door swung inwards, my head shooting up at the movement, the rest of me freezing on the bed.

The Joker stood in the doorway of the bathroom, hair wet and slicked back with a few strands falling out of place across his face. He wore nothing but a towel on his hips, my eyes drawn to the many inked illustrations on view which seemed to move with each flex of his muscles.

“Afternoon, doll.” He greeted at my figure, frozen in the act. I barely registered that it was the afternoon and I must have slept at least half of the day away, too stunned by his sudden appearance to do much more than stare at him in shock. “Enjoying yourself, doll?” He asked with a lazy grin, breaking my day dream and I snapped my eyes up to him, feeling the blush heating my cheeks.

“Yes I am.” I respond defiantly, shocked at the words out of my mouth. The Joker laughed and I wasn’t sure if it was because of what I said, or the look of pure surprise on my face that I had said them.

“I trust you slept well, doll?” He asked pleasantly, with a sickly sweet smile, sounding genuinely intrigued.

I frowned at him quizzically – that was very out of character for him. “Uh, fine thanks.” I answered - did he not know that I had left the room? Had no one told him? A large grin spread across his face at my answer – as though he shared an inside joke – so he did know? I frowned in confusion at him.

“My night was fine too doll, thanks for asking.” He teased sarcastically stepping into the room – He watched me for a moment as though waiting to catch something in my eyes, but I tried to hide any guilt that might be there and I thought I had got away with it, but then his eyes turned steely, “Imagine my surprise though, doll.” He started, stepping further into the room and waving an arm about theatrically, “when I return to the house last night to find my honoured guest had scorned all the luxuries I had provided!” He cried dramatically, “Choosing instead to stay in an old dusty room with a worn-out mattress and no bed sheets - not even a pillow!” He cried in false distress, one hand to his heart, now stood before me at the foot of the bed.

“You had arranged for me to sleep in your own bed!” I defended strongly, not amused by his little theatre production, “I didn’t think that was appropriate.”

“Tell me then doll,” He said, leaning in toward me, causing me to recoil from his close proximity, his large Cheshire grin too close for my comfort, “why did you think it ‘inappropriate’ to sleep in my bed, and yet you’ll happily wear my clothes?” He asked pleasantly.

Shit. I looked down at my lap – sure enough I was still in his shirt and tracksuit bottoms. I could feel the red in my cheeks increase. Maybe I had crossed a line there – some people were precious about this kind of thing. But, thanks to my new confidence, I wasn’t backing down that easily, “Maybe if you’re going to insist on providing people with clothes you ought to include a more modest section for those whose careers don’t rely on a pole stuck in the floor!” I retaliated sharply.

I thought I’d gone too far then, and I dropped the scowl on my face quickly, panicking that his famous temper would flare at me. He paused a moment, his face serious and considering, then he broke into laughter, pulling himself upright again and chuckling to himself as he disappeared into the walk-in closet to this right.

I scowled at his muscular back as he left me sat on the bed, confused by his almost amiable behaviour and unsure what to do now. Was this how he was going to get me to smile? Just be a bit nicer to me? Well it wasn’t going to work, I thought defiantly, scowling to myself.

The door to the closet remained open, the Joker hidden behind it, but I could hear the sound of drawers opening and sliding shut. I didn't know what to do. I was still sat, half under the covers in the joker’s bedroom – in his clothes -  whilst the man himself was now getting dressed in the room opposite.

Out of context this situation looked a lot different to the one it was.

And now the idea of the Joker probably naked just behind that door was stuck in my mind. My thoughts wandered for a moment as to what that looked like, but I quickly shook my head away from that path – that was not a thought trail I should be going down.

I looked around the room desperately – what could I do? I felt extremely awkward just sat on the bed – unsure where to go or what was expected of me and the Joker only a few metres away. My eyes fell on the bathroom door. There was no lock on it – I remembered that – but I could still at least hide in there for a bit – I felt too vulnerable here.

I slid out of bed silently and crept quickly, but silently to the bathroom door, trying not to catch the Joker’s attention if I could help it and practically jumping over the threshold into the bathroom, closing door sharply behind me.

I leant against the wood for a moment, my heart racing. I was safe – well safer anyway.

I had no way of telling how long I hid in that bathroom.

I tried to just act normal to start with, brushing my teeth, washing my face, just taking my time with each and keeping half an ear out for the sound of the bedroom door to tell me the Joker had left.

That was the longest time I had ever spent brushing my teeth.

I thought I had heard the door go, but I was worried my ears were lying to me when I thought I heard another sound in the room. Eventually I couldn’t stand it any longer and left the bathroom, sneaking silently around the room, peering into any space I thought the Joker could hide in until I was convinced the room was empty.

I laughed shakily to myself at the extremes I was going through as I got dressed – managing to find a few pieces of clothing that covered at least some of skin and weren’t see-through or torn in strategic areas.

Now I stood in the middle of the room not sure what to do now. I was starving, but where was the kitchen? And was I just allowed to go there and help myself to what I wanted? And where was the Joker?

I remained there for a few moments unsure how to proceed till I gained the courage to leave the room. I wandered the house blindly for a time, trying to retrace the steps I had taken with Frost the day before, until I eventually reached the top of the grand staircase where a couple of armed henchmen stood guard outside a door.

I asked for directions from them and then begrudgingly instructed me to the kitchen which I followed and, after still managing to make a few wrong turns, I finally found my way to it.

Similar to the rest of the house, this room too, was huge. It had clearly been originally designed to be a historic-looking kitchen, once having the large fireplace, enough room for a huge farmhouse table in the middle and any other contraptions you wanted. But now it was revamped, a huge island with bar stools taking up the middle of the room and all the counters and technology having a very modern and metal look to them.

I wandered around the large room, opening drawers out of sheer curiosity and stumbling upon gadgets I didn’t even know existed. It was an oddly stocked kitchen for a house that was supposedly never used.

I hadn’t been in there long when Frost had found me, materialising in the doorway and making me jump. Though he seemed just as surprised to see me as I, him. He looked me up and down, as if looking for something.

“Frost?” I asked, when I’d managed to get my heart into my chest, “What’s up?” I asked, confused by his expression.

He pulled himself upright, resuming his professional stance – I guess he was working after all, “Just surprised to see you still standing.” He told me.

I looked at him confused, “Why wouldn’t I be…” I began, then it hit me, "Frost, what happened last night?”

He furrowed his brow, confused I didn’t know. “I wanted to ask you the same thing.” He said cryptically.

I frowned back at him, “You don’t know?”

“I know you didn’t stay in the room assigned to you.” He admitted, “Boss was pretty mad when he found out.”

“So he does know?” I asked grimacing, “Were you the one that moved me?”

Frost looked at me confused, “Moved you? No. Boss sent us all away once we tracked you down. He closed the door after that but I’d seen that look before on his face and I didn’t think you would make it out alive, let alone unharmed.” He admitted, his mind somewhere else.

Wonderful. I had been asleep in the same room as a pissed off psychotic murderer.

“So how did I get back in the Joker’s room?” I asked, more to myself than to Frost. But I already knew the answer.

Frost shrugged anyway, “He must have carried you back.”

I couldn’t believe it. I stared wide eyed at the kitchen island in front of me. The Joker had carried me, sleeping, in his arms. I could feel my face burning red. Did I snore? Had I had bad breath? Was I heavy? Oh my God this was mortifying.

I knew I should be annoyed at him – pretty pissed actually – that he had forced me basically to sleep in the same bed as him. But right now, all I could feel was an intense burning embarrassment. I was no longer worried that I had been that close to being murdered, I was too busy worrying if I’d made a fool of myself whilst unconscious.

And – wait. He’d been in the same room as me this morning. Did we sleep together? I could feel my eyes widened as the events of last night became clearer. Oh no.

“Ergh!” I groaned in frustration and humiliation, placing my hand forehead in disgrace.

Frost watched me uncomfortably, clearly not sure what to do, “Look,” He said, trying to break through my anguish, “I need to get back to work – I only came down because George said he’d seen you wandering around and asking for directions.” He told me. “Help yourself to anything around the place, no room is off limits but I would stay away from the room directly opposite the stairs – that’s the Boss’s office.” I nodded at him as I took the information in, remembering the door with the men outside, wondering if one of them was ‘George’.

Frost gave me a small smile and quick apology before making to stride off into the house. “Oh,” he recalled suddenly stopping in the doorway, “Boss would like you to join him this evening for a drive.” He informed me.

“Tell him no thanks.” I muttered, “Not sure I have the energy in me to deal with him tonight.” Frost frowned at me, clearly not happy with my response, but gave me a quick nod anyway before continuing back into the depths of the house.

I contemplated the consequences of my decision as I helped myself to some food. Would the Joker be mad I had turned him down? Of course, he would. Would he do anything about it was more what I should be concerned about.

I shuffled around the cupboards as I thought, once again surprised to find that the kitchen was stock to the brim with fresh produce and I had to wonder if it was because of me, or if they always had to keep it stocked in case the Joker made a sudden decision to spend some time here.

The whole time I was in the kitchen I saw no one else – so much so I did consider spending the whole day in the kitchen - but I decided I couldn’t spend a whole week in this huge house just hauled up in this one room, so, after I was done eating, I set out to explore the rest of the maze-like mansion.

There were so many rooms.

There were at least 3 rooms that appeared to be lounges with different arrays of entertainment kits, a large fancy dining room that looked like it was never used, a few rooms that seemed dedicated to drinking alone, the large garage I had arrived via last night and – I noted for future reference – a large library stacked from floor to ceiling with shelves of dusty books.

I was glad to see that none of these rooms seemed to have undergone the redecorating that the hall had, no green paint or bullet holes in sight.

I continued around the ground floor of the house, finding many rooms empty or so dusty that I couldn’t stop sneezing upon entering. I paused when I came across a large conservatory-like room at what must have been the back of the house.

It was humid in here, the rain pattering lightly on the glass roof above. Through the wall of windows in front of me lay a large green lawn with neatly trimmed hedges around the borders, the boundaries stretching out of sight over a hill and the bare outlines of skyscrapers just visible in the distance against the grey sky.

“You know, doll, it’s rude to turn down your host when they offer you a night out?” Came a voice from behind that sent shivers down my back. The voice sounded soft, but dangerous and I turned slowly to meet the Joker standing in the double door entrance to the room.

“Got plans already, huh?” he mocked, “Shame.” He pouted at me cruelly, “Maybe tomorrow night.”

“No thank you.” I managed out, though my voice was croaky and faltered slightly. “I don’t particularly want to do anything with you.” I said bravely.

“No?” He questioned, feigning surprise, “Come now doll,” he teased, “if you keep refusing to even let me try to make you smile, that’s cheating.” He purred dangerously, holding my gaze and his eyes seemed to become stormier, his mouth breathing louder and harsher. I swallowed thickly, regretting my previous words.

“Boss?”

The Joker snarled and span to face the henchman that had appeared next to him, brandishing a piece of paper at arms length as though it was a white flag. The Joker snatched it from him, his eyes darting over the paper as he read it. His jaw clenched and he crumpled the paper in his fist, grumbling something under his breath that sound like ‘If you want something done you gotta do it yourself.’ He gaze shot back up to mine swiftly “Later then, Doll.” He said before departing, the henchman following quickly on behind.

I didn’t linger in that room, just in case the Joker decided to pay me another visit and finish whatever he wanted to do a moment ago. Instead, I continued to wander the house until I finally found my way back to the familiar entrance way, the harsh graffiti and knife art no longer really bothering me anymore. I headed immediately for one door in particular, pushing it open, surprised to see the room hadn’t changed in the slightest.

The large, plump arm chairs still sat next to the unlit fireplace, the dark wood bookshelves still pushed up against the back wall, and the decanter with its matching crystal glasses still sat on the small coffee table between the chairs. And, of course - still sat nestled under the large window that looked out over the front lawn - was the beautiful piano.

I drifted into the room, able to take my time now to examine every inch of the room without the fear from the last time. It was a beautiful room, practically tiny compared to the rest of the house, but still very large compared to anything I had ever lived in.

I sat myself down in one of the cushiony armchairs, admiring the detailed patterns that adorned the fireplace and surveying the rest of the room. Eventually though, I could no longer resist it anymore and stood up, heading straight for the piano. I hesitated, admiring the instrument from afar before I sat gently on the old, faded stool stroking the key cover and lifting it up, a strong sense of déjà vu overcoming me.

The keys, yellow with age, lay out perfectly just begging to be used and I stroked them with longingly.

Frost had said help myself to anything I wanted - there was no one around to disturb here anyway.

So I pressed a key. The noise sounded ridiculously loud to my ears that were so used to the echoing silence of the large house. I waited a few beats, to see if anyone responded to the noise, but when nothing happened I took that as enough reassurance to push another key. I waited again.

I slowly grew in confidence with each passing moment of no response or movement from the rest of the house, soon playing more and more keys until the notes no longer sounded painfully loud to me and I eventually began to play a silly little tune I had been taught when I learnt to play.

My fingers danced over the keys fluidly until I made the tune more complex and intricate, soon forming the music of a song I knew. It didn’t take long before I got caught up in the melody, beginning to hum the song and then sing the words quietly at first and then gaining in volume, though never louder than normal talking level.

I continued to press away at the keys, not taking a break between one song and the next, just playing continuously.

That was until I heard a floorboard creek outside the door. I jumped, my hands slipping on the keys and making a painfully out-of-tune noise. I instantly spun around to the source of the noise, only to find the Joker stood framed in the doorway.

Déjà vu indeed.

He surveyed me for a moment in silence and I wondered if he would continue with what he had wanted to say earlier or if he was going to berate me for making too much noise or daring to be in this room when there was a strict rule, that I was unaware of that, prohibited it.

Or maybe – given he was the Joker and wholly unpredictable – he might just crack a joke at my expense and leave.

However, he did none of these things. He just stood there in silence, the dark shadow around his eyes showing that - though he slept last night - it wasn’t nearly enough.

He lingered only a few moments longer and then he was gone as suddenly as he had come.

I watched the empty doorway for a few moments but he didn’t return. I got up and closed the door quietly - not wanting anymore unexpected audiences - and returned to my music, my heart was still erratic from surprise, and half an ear open for any more footsteps on the floor outside the door.

It was only later that day, as I climbed the stairs to explore the top of the house, that I heard a familiar sound.

Was that my voice.

It was soft and quiet but I could definitely hear it. I back tracked down the hallway till I reached the top of the stairs again. There were no men outside the door this time and I could press up close to the wood.

Sure enough, there it was - quiet but still audible - me and the piano from earlier playing out quietly in the Joker’s office.

I didn’t know what to think about it, so I pushed it to the back of my mind and hurried down the corridor out of sight before I got caught again.

tags: @carouselcurls @6fish6 @viraldragonrider @theartistdetective @white-chocolate-mocha-fan

[thejokersenigma]

Joker x Reader Deadly Voice Part 43

Hi guys, sorry it's been a while since I've managed to get a part out!

This one is quite a bit shorter than usual, but I have started the next part - I just though this bit would be better on its own!

I'll apologise now - this piece is probably REALLY bad because I've just felt very uninspired recently and I feel like I've lost my idea of the Joker at the moment (especially Jaredleto joker) - I think I might need to have a movie binge night to get back into character!

So the warning for this part is EXTREME FLUFF. I'm not kidding - this probably isn't everyone's cup of tea and I don't know why I made it so fluffy (maybe I just need a hug). I don't even know why I wrote this part. In my head it was better.

So if you want to skip this part I understand - I'll try to get back on track for the next part!

Enjoy anyway!

Thank you again for reading and all your support! Feel free to send request etc. to me - I don't mind which fandom - I need to branch out a bit! :D

MASTERLIST

“Where is she?!” The Joker demanded, advancing on the three men in front of him.

“Sir?” Asked one of them.

“The girl!” The Joker snarled furiously, launching at the henchman with his metal teeth bared, grabbing his shirt collar and shoving the barrel of his gun into the man’s throat.

It was 5am and he’d finally returned from his ‘little discussion’ with Jackson out at the docks about an overdue shipment. It had ended with 7 men dead and Jackson himself sporting a new set of scars as a little debt reminder.

But now the Joker needed sleep. He hadn’t slept for over 5 days and it was beginning to take its toll on him – not on his mental clarity, which remained its usual sharp-witted tangle of mess and noise – but physically he was exhausted, even now his legs ached and protested under his weight.

When he had entered the large house, he’d found all his men wary – more than usual – around him and excusing themselves from any room he entered. He didn’t bother to waste his energy on them now – they’d still be in there in the morning when he felt more refreshed – and he get his attention solely on his path to the bed at the top of the house.

When he had arrived at the door he had opened it quietly, knowing there was a chance the girl [Y/N] would be asleep and - though the idea of seeing that little scowl on her face once again sounded appealing - he wasn’t in the mood to really mess with her right now - he had plenty of time to do that later after all. The thought of this had made his lips twitch into his signature grin.

As he had opened the door, the dim light of the corridor had faintly lit the blackness, throwing shadows across the room, and providing just enough light to make out the outlines of objects. He had immediately headed to the bed but stopped dead when he found it empty. Pristine. As though no one had even touched it.

Where was the girl?

He searched the room, the only trace of [Y/N] being a pile of her clothes in his wardrobe.

How the men in front of him were blathering excuses, though the one beneath his grip remained silent and still, knowing his best option now was to not say anything.

The Joker wasn’t listening to their droning voices – he had too many of his own in his head to pay attention to theirs. He didn’t care what they had to say unless it provided him with new, useful information.

And it didn’t.

A gunshot went off and the Joker could feel the man under his hand tense and flinch at the sound.  But it wasn’t him that dropped to the floor. It was the man to his left. A clean bullet hole to the head.

The Joker looked past the man he held to the body now on the floor. He hadn’t planned to do that. The voices suggest some interesting things sometimes. He regarded the body in boredom – this wasn’t one of those times.

Silence filled the room, the remaining two henchmen too scared to say another word and too terrified to move a muscle in case the boss instinctively shot at them, the man held recoiling from the gun now on his shoulder.

“Frost.” The Joker growled - the tall, suited man already on route to the Joker’s side at the sound of the gunshot.

“We’re combing through the CCTV.” Frost informed him quickly, unfazed by the new stain gracing spreading on the floor.

“Search everywhere. Find her.” The Joker ordered through clenched teeth before he released the henchman in his grip and strode off past Frost into the dark hallway. “And clean that up.” He called back to the three remaining men.

There was a cold insane cackle from the clown before he disappeared into the shadows.

As much as sleep pulled at the Joker’s mind and body, he remained awake. He sat on the edge of the large queen-sized bed, his shirt handing completely open, his gun holsters hanging loosely from his shoulders and his hair messy from his own hands. He stared blindly into the dark at where the patterned wallpaper would be. But his mind was making’s its own pattern, its own maze to continue to get lost in.

The knock at the door was like a cannon through his mind’s chatter and the gun was instinctively pointed at the door as it opened to reveal Frost, his hands up in the air by his chest in a surrendering gesture – knowing his boss’s reflexes.

“Where is she?” The Joker growled lowly, forgetting about the loaded gun pointed at his head henchman.

Frost however, sensed the danger was over - even with the weapon still pointed directly at him -  and lowered his hands. “The 5th room.” He stated, knowing J didn’t want any more information than that.

The Joker was up and pushing past him before he’d finished.

 The Joker strode briskly down the dark corridors, his anger fuelling his weary muscles. He arrived at the one of the many identical doors that filled this side of the house and snarled at the men that surrounded the doorway. Most fled, but a few stayed behind for further orders, simply shrinking against the wall opposite.

The Joker stepped through the doorway, immediately noting a large chest of drawers pushed halfway into the room. Had she tried to block up the door? Clever, doll. He scowled, striding into the room, ready to wring her neck for her insolence.

But then he saw her lying on the bed.

She was curled onto her right side, some of her hair falling onto her face, the rest of it fanning out behind her. The rectangle of light from the hallway fell across her body and illuminated her face. It was the first time he had seen it looked soft. Whenever she saw him she was always frowning, worried or scowling. But now her face was smooth, no angry lines creasing her face. He had never seen her so peaceful. So relaxed. And she was in his clothes he realised, as his eyes travelled down her body.

It should anger him. It should make the voice flare to a deafening pitch until he did something reckless and murderous. But it didn’t.

If he didn’t know better it looked like they’d just slept together.

He liked her in them. It suited her. Looking like his.

Movement behind the Joker caused him to spin around, “Out.” He snapped harshly at Frost now in the doorway. Frost hesitated, worried what the Joker might do to the poor girl asleep on the bed, but the look in the Joker’s eyes was something you didn’t challenge and Frost soon backed down, retreating with the rest of his men.

The Joker moved back to the doorway and closed the door silently behind the men, plunging the room into darkness. It didn’t take long for his eyes to adjust to the new blackness and he turned back to Y/N.

Now was his chance.

Her vulnerable throat lay exposed to him ready for the strong grip of his hands to crush it or for the glint of his blade that he could feel heavy in his pocket.

His hand slipped to the knife, pulling it out and flipping it open as his mind urged him on. He perched on the edge of the bed and continued to watch her, her chest rising and falling with each deep breath.

It annoyed the him. Annoyed the voices.

He wanted to snuff it out. Stop the movement.

But his eyes continued to follow the rise and fall and he suddenly realised how quiet the room was. The insistent white noise was gone. Like following the rhythm had calmed his mind.

In the new silence, only the harsh breath through his lips could be heard, her own breath sweet and quiet. She looked soft delicate.

The Joker was lost in his mind’s new silence, only the voices now vying for his attention now. He brought the blade to her skin, running it along the outline of her exposed arm where the she had rolled up his shirt’s sleeve. He didn’t withdraw the blade as she shivered her sleep from the contact of the cold metal, leaving it lying against her skin until she lay still again.

When she relaxed once more he continued to trail the tip of the knife up her arm, watching it catch on the rucked-up fabric of the shirt sleeves, until he reached her throat, relishing the feel of her skin under the blade.

He could put pressure on it now if he wanted to. End it.

But instead he trailed the blade along her skin, admiring the goose bumps that rose on her skin under his touch.

He hadn’t realised how close he’d leant in towards her until he felt her breath brush against his cheek. It caught him off guard and he couldn’t help flinching slightly causing him to momentarily lose control of his hand and nick her skin with the point of the blade.

He withdrew the knife but couldn’t see the damage in the dark. He dismissed it. He’d barely touched you after all.

[Y/N]’s breath continued to float across his cheek and now he expected it was almost a nice feeling.  Like it blew away another voice from his mind. One in a whole crowd might not feel like much, but he could tell it was gone and it felt good to gain another small chunk of silence in his usually chaotic mind.

The Joker pulled back, repositioning himself on the bare mattress so that he lay alongside her on the other side of the bed - still careful not to touch her - his sleep deprived body sighing in relief at the feeling of rest. He closed his eyes - hardly at peace - but better than he had been for a long time.

Peace only found him when [Y/N] shifted in her sleep, turning so she faced him and curling into his side, an arm draped across his chest, and a small dreaming smile on her lips.

tags: @carouselcurls @viraldragonrider @6fish6 @theartistdetective @white-chocolate-mocha-fan