#jokersenigma fan fiction

[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

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

Christmas Fan Fiction Advent Calendar 2017 (Batman Universe)

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2Bs7NO7

by JokersEnigma

Ok, basically I have come up with a little challenge for me to celebrate Christmas this year where I will produce one piece of fan fiction for every day of December based around the DC Batman Universe. This will be made up of one-shots, mini series' and continuations of my current series. I really hope you enjoy - though based on time restraint I can't guarantee the best quality writing! Haha I've placed them all in this 'new story' to keep the collection together i.e. each new chapter will be a new day! Hope you enjoy! Merry Christmas!

Words: 5792, Chapters: 1/25, Language: English

Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/F, F/M

Characters: The Joker, Poison Ivy, Harley, Bruce Wayne, Oswald Cobblepot, Edward Nygma, Victor Zsasz, Robin (DCU), Alfred Pennyworth, Reader

Relationships: Joker X Reader, Bruce Wayne x Reader - Relationship, harley x ivy - Relationship, ed nygma x reader

Additional Tags: Christmas

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2Bs7NO7

[thejokersenigma]

Joker x Reader - Deadly Voice Part 47

Hi guys!

Sorry it's taken so long for me to get this out but I had a bit of writer's block on this particular story and I've lost my inspiration and enthusiasm for it a bit (probably because I feel I've lost the Joker's real personality a bit now) - but I was not going to give up on the story - especially as I think there's only 2-3 more parts left of this series now!

So here it is - it took a while and I've just spent the last 3ish hours trying to work out all the kinks so I apologise if it's not the best piece! :S

Enjoy anyway and thank you to everyone who continues to support my writing! You guys mean the world to me!

 MASTERLIST

I woke to an empty bed next to me again. It didn’t surprise me, use to it by now and my head too preoccupied by the events of last night that came rushing back to me. I closed my eyes tightly against the replay, the regret achingly painful.

I had been an idiot. An absolute idiot.

What had I been thinking?! Why didn’t I walk away when I’d seen Penguin? That alone should have triggered enough in me to cause me to run screaming from the room.

Even after that, why hadn’t I left when the Joker had been in a bad mood? When he’d completely ignored me and clearly shown he hadn’t wanted me there with him – any logical person would have taken this as enough and just up and left – why had I stayed?

I guess I knew though. I’d admitted it to myself several times before now.

I liked the damn clown.

And in that moment, when I had seen Penguin sat on that sofa, puffed up like the proud bird he was, that sickening smile on his face, I had been sharply reminded of what I had been through before - that damn contract. And I was suddenly aware that snarling green haired man opposite him had been the one to get me out of it without – it seemed so far –  asking anything in return.

I guess something in my heart went out to him in that moment, contrary to the constant reminder I chanted almost hourly that this man was in fact a villain, a murderer, and a lunatic. Even with that thought still firmly in my mind I couldn’t walk away from him in that moment.

But then I had stepped in it. Whilst trying to break through his sullen mood I had nearly slipped my control on my ‘Bobby’ half, nearly confessing to the rage I still felt at Penguin. I couldn’t help it – that bird-like man had caused my temper flare. I’d hoped that Joker was still ignoring me at that point, but – of course – he’d picked up on it immediately and questioned me over it, causing me to fall back to my old, nervy self, and barely managing to string a sentence together in my embarrassment I refused to admit my lack of control to the Joker - God knows what he’d do with that information.

But - thanks to the abrupt return of my timid, introverted self - I then could not find the bravery within myself to turn down the flow of drinks that followed after that.

And then we’d danced. And then I’d smiled. No. I hadn’t smiled. I had grinned – beamed - even giggled.

I hadn’t giggled since I was a little girl.

Why?!

Pointless question. I knew the answer. It had been the happiest I had felt in a long time.

The cold truth this morning though, was the fact it was probably all a lie.

True, last night I had felt special for a moment - for a silly drunken moment. I had felt like the Joker had actually wanted to dance with me – like he actually wanted to be around me and might have even enjoyed it himself for a moment.

But now I could see that wasn’t possible.

I opened my eyes so that I now stared up at the ceiling, the room already bathed in daylight, only muted slightly by the still-drawn curtains. I had questioned how he would make me smile, but now I knew.

I hadn’t expected him to be so cruel, and angry tears burned in the eyes. But he was - after all - the Joker. He could make anyone believe anything - a master manipulator and player of the game – and I should be angry at myself for thinking anything more of him. How could I have even let myself think for a moment that it might have been true? But, though I could blame him for the waves of shame that now rolled over me as I lay in the bed – as he was the one who had manipulated these feelings in me – it was really my own stupidity that had led me astray – why wouldn’t I think the Joker would sink to such tactics as making me fall for him to win? It wasn’t like the man had morals.

And I knew it was true. I had fallen for him. Properly. Completely. Because, even now when I should hate him with every inch of my body, I could only hate myself. Something in me stopped me from blaming him. Told me it wasn’t his fault. That it wasn’t right to be mad at him.

I let out a long, loud groan, placing my hands over my eyes and scrubbing vigorously at my face before rolling onto my side.

I was ridiculous.

I removed my hands from my face, my vision focusing once more on the empty bed across from me. This too, only brought back the painfully mortifying memory of late last night and I let out another pathetic groan, recalling how I had caved into my urges and actually curled into him – it had been too tempting an offer last night in my drunken naivety  – when I didn’t want the night or that blissful feeling of happiness to end.

Now it was a foolish error on my part and I screwed my eyes tighter against the pain in my chest, causing the hot tears to roll down my face.

I then lay there for a while, my head buried into the pillow as I tried to calm myself a bit. But eventually I knew I couldn’t put it off much longer. I couldn’t deny that the Joker had ‘won’ our bet and I now had to face what happened next – whatever that was.

I must admit I was surprised he hadn’t hung around this morning to gloat at me and claim whatever it was that he wanted. I shifted in the bed so I faced the clock and suddenly realised the time. It was almost midday. I shouldn’t really be surprised thought -that’s what alcohol did to me. I rarely got hungover, but I always slept late the next day and chances were, I’d be a bit light headed for a bit.

I pushed myself so I sat upright in the bed, correct in my previous assumption when I felt my head spin. I hung my head for a moment, trying to steady myself once more. I had options – true - but none of them appealed to me. I could stay here all day – hiding from the inevitable. I could try to run - but he was bound to catch up to me and then the consequences would probably be even worse. Or, I could just face the music and go and find him.

I grimaced at my lap as I let my head hang, the wooziness subsiding. I tried to work through things in my head, searching for any loopholes I could find in the agreement we had made.

Eventually I pushed myself out of bed, getting dressed slowly to prolong the confrontation and buy me time to find a way out of this. However, all too soon I was heading to the block, my spirits low and my heart panicky.

I stopped outside the heavy dark wood door that led to the Joker’s office. In that moment I hated myself. I hated that, though the fate of my own life hung with the man behind the door I still really wanted to see him again, a part of me couldn’t wait to open the door and see that pale face, that slicked back green hair, that signature bloody smile. There was something about him that continued to drag me back, something that made me want to be around him – even when he’d played and hurt me.

I paused, taking a deep breath and steeling myself, before I knocked lightly on the door and, without waiting for a response, pushed the door open before I could talk myself out of it.

I slipped into the room quietly, carefully closing the solid door behind me so it only made a soft thud as it fell back into the frame.

The room was quite dark and I had to wait for my eyes to adjust before I could take in my surroundings. It has hard to make out the colour of the walls as shadows lurked at the sides of the room, but the floor was a plush carpet under my shoes. On the opposite wall to me, heavy-looking curtains covered the large windows, the only light from them coming from a small slit down the middle of the window. The main light source came from a lamp sat on the huge wooden desk directly across the room from me. Behind this desk, the Joker sat in a dark red shirt - the top buttons undone as usual - pouring over numerous papers spread out over the table top.

“Morning, doll.” He greeted, disinterested and not moving his gaze from the papers in front of him. I didn’t say anything, I just stood there questioning every reason I had for being in here. The whole room was intimidating, let alone the man sat before me. I was feeling increasingly embarrassed again.

“Doll?” He inquired at my silence, glancing up from his work with a raised invisible eyebrow. I still didn’t say anything, remaining in place and unable to make eye contact, my gaze focused on the bottom of the desk where it sunk into the thick, golden carpet. At my lack of response, J straightened up, abandoning his work and looking at me properly.

"Clown got your tongue?” He teased, and I finally looked up at him, his eyes intense even across the large distance between us, the jesting not meeting his eyes or his mouth his remained in a frown.

He must have seen something in my eyes – perhaps the hopelessness I felt – because I thought I saw something flicker in his blue eyes when I met their gaze.

“You said it last night.” I spoke finally, stepping into the room a bit further, the waver in my voice giving away the emotions I was trying to keep in check, but I was still determined to not look as weak as I felt. “You won.”

His face lit up with recognition. “You’re right, doll...” He drawled, a lazy smile appearing on his face, “I did.”

He didn’t say anything else, just looked at me, mischief shining in his eyes. I frowned at him, confused. Did he expect me to do something? Was he trying to mess with me even more?

But just like that, he turned back to his work, as though our conversation was over. I didn’t move – was that honestly all he was going to say to me? No explanation or even hint as to what he wanted? What was I supposed to do now?

I took a step forward, trying to subtly get his attention. He didn’t look up, still ignoring me. I cleared my throat slightly, though my nerves stopped me from making it very loud, but in it still felt like it resonated in the silence of the room. Still nothing. I shifted my feet impatiently.

“If you have something to say, doll…” The Joker warned, and I could almost hear the jaw clench in his voice as he spoke down at the papers, still refusing to make eye contact with me.

“Yes.” I declared, startled that I suddenly had his attention, even if that was what I had been trying to do. “I – uh – I want to know what happens now.” I stated, firmly, though the nerves in my voice was all too clear.

“Nothing.” He said, his face hidden from my view as he remained focused on his work.

“Nothing? What do you mean nothing?!” I demanded in surprise, causing him to shoot me a warning look, his eyes dark. I ignored him, “You’ve won!” I cried.

“It’s time then, doll,” He sneered, “To get a high score.”

I just stared blankly at him, “What?”

“That’s the whole point in a game isn’t doll?” He asked mockingly, baring his shining teeth at me, “It’s not just about winning – it’s about who gets the highest score overall.”

I was more than confused now. “Those things are mutually inclusive.” I pointed out, against my better judgement, “And besides, that only works if you’re playing against someone.” I grumbled.

“Are we not playing, doll?” He asked with a raised invisible brow.

“No.” I retorted sharply. “I don’t want to be a part of your messed-up games anymore! I only agreed to this on the off chance I got my life back! Now I’ve blown it all because you –“ I stopped mid-sentence. I could see he was intrigued now, but my mind was elsewhere. I’d suddenly realised something. “You cheated…” I muttered my eyes wide open in sudden realisation.

“Cheated?” repeated the Joker, with theatrical innocence, “You think I cheated, doll?”

“You promised not use sexual advances on me!” I exclaimed, my mind whirling, “And I class last night as a sexual advancement!” I said quickly, clinging to this little idea I had which might get me out of this, “I smiled – sure,” I admitted, “- but you cheated so it doesn’t count!”

The Joker’s eyes darkened, no smile on his face. He rose from his chair and stepped around his desk slowly but purposefully, “I think, doll,” he growled darkly, “that we need to define what a sexual advancement is.” He began to move towards me with lithe, prowl-like movements.

I gulped and everything in me told me to turn tail and run the opposite direction, but I was stuck in place by his eyes again – the danger clear in them, despite the main light now behind him and most of his face in shadow. “I don’t think that’s necessary.” I protested quickly, managing to move a step back.

“No, no.” He tutted, his voice low but smooth, “We don’t want any more confusions, do we? He purred, a slow, sinister smile spreading across his face, though it didn’t reach his eyes.

He was in front of me now, looking down at me hungrily. “Now, doll.” He purred, “Is this a sexual advancement?” He was only about a foot away from me and I could already feel my throat drying up. “I suppose not.” I croaked about, determined to remain in control and steeling against his behaviour, but a part of me was screaming for him to come closer, for it to be like last night.

His hands suddenly grabbed at my hips, “What about this?” He asked, not breaking eye contact with me.

“Definitely.” I said, swallowing when I felt his touch prickle my skin, heat seeping out from his palms and warming my entire body, feeling the redness in my cheeks.

He pulled me sharply, taking me by surprise and unbalancing me so I was forced to step forward, flinging my arms out and catching myself on his chest, my body now pressed up against him.

“Now?” He asked, his face so close he breath brushed against my face.

“Yes.” I croaked out. Trying to ignore the feeling of every inch of his body pressed against mine. I had entered this room hating him and cursing his name for his tricks and games, but now I was being sharply reminded of why I had so easily fallen for him when my defences were down last night.

His hands, still at my hips, began to move so I shifted where I stood, rubbing against him, the feeling causing every inch of me to burn and I had to fight back a moan, my fingers instinctively tightening on his chest so I gripped at his shirt. I could feel the muscles under my hands tense and Joker dipped his head toward mine as he leant towards me and I felt his breath travel across my cheek and down the side of my face, feeling a sharp pain as he nibbled at my earlobe, causing my pulse to pound against my skin.

“And this?” He purred seductively into my ear.

What was he asking again?

“Umhum.” I managed, swallowing thickly. Great I was losing the ability to form words now. It only just occurred to me that I wasn’t breathing and I quickly took a deep breath. He stilled my hips, now running his hands up my body, causing every nerve in my body to tingle. I didn’t move, afraid he might do something if I did, but also afraid he might stop.

He pulled his head back, away from my ear, as his hands travelled to my neck, brushing the sensitive skin forcing me to hold back shivers even as my body burned. His left hand then wrapped around my neck, gripping, but not hard enough to cut off any air to my lungs. His other hand continued to roam, moving to my cheek and running along my face until he reached my lips, the cool, pale fingers, tracing them gently. His eyes were focused solely on his task and I watched him in rapture, unaware of anything else in that moment except his stormy eyes and the rich scent that filled my throat and tasted of smoke and cologne.

I made the most of our close proximity, taking the time to study every inch of his face, my eyes falling on his own lips which were partly slightly where his harsh breaths escaped and cooled my own damp lips. I was suddenly acutely aware that it would only take a slight head tilt from either once of us for our mouths to meet. I was tempted - so tempted.

Suddenly his gaze flickered to mine, the movement catching the corner of my eye and I lifted my gaze to his, knowing from his look that he knew exactly what I was thinking. His eyes flickered back to my mouth and I thought he was going to do it then – to close the gap between the two of us. He inched closer and I closed my eyes, feeling his lips only millimetres from my own.

“I win, doll.” He purred against my lips.

It took a while for the words to perforated my fogged mind but then my eyes shot wide open, every previous sensation in my body plummeting in realisation. I finally dropped my hands from his chest and I tried to pull back, panicked by what he said, but he gripped my throat tighter, holding me fast where I was. What did he mean he won? How? I tried to look anywhere but in his eyes, humiliated once more that not only had he seemed to have outsmarted me, but he’d easily turned me into a weak, fluster fool and I had no alcohol to blame it on this time.

His grip tightened even more and I gasped as my breathing became restricted. I brought my hands up to my neck, grabbing hopelessly at his fingers to try to alleviate the constriction, finally looking up at him.

The minute I made contact with his eyes once again, he released some of the pressure on my neck, though I didn’t drop my hands, just in case.

I watched him, frightened what he’d do next – after all, I was completely at his mercy in this position. But he looked calm, calculating, though I thought I could still see a trace of the hunger in his eyes that showed he had been a little effected by the previous moment between us.

“If I remember correctly, doll.” The Joker sneered down at me, still helpless in his grip. “I asked you to dance…” he drawled. “And you accepted.” I didn’t say anything, wondering where he was going with this, but too concerned that he might snap at any moment and continue to throttle me.

“There was no ‘toying’, doll,” he jeered, “No ‘playing’.” A knowing, malicious grin spread across his face, and he leant forward, closing the distance between us once again, “You wanted it.” He purred seductively, his faces centimetres from mine, “I win.”

I couldn’t think straight. All that ran through my mind was a series of curse words, my mind too panicky to actually think straight. Focus. There had to be a way around this – something to prove he’d somehow cheated.

Nothing. I couldn’t think of anything. I had to face the fact. He hadn’t cheated. He had won fair and square. I had been foolish enough to let my guard down not once, but twice now, and I had to pay for it.

The Joker must have read the defeat in my eyes because he finally released my throat.

As soon as I was released I stepped back, rubbing at the tender skin on my neck where I was sure I’d get a bruise.

The question now was. What did the man who had the power to get anything, want from me?

The Joker was watching me with hard eyes, as I tried to plan multiple scenarios that could now happen and what on earth he could possibly want from me. “You look like you’re thinking too hard, doll.” He teased, but his face was serious.

I hesitated before I spoke, “I – I’m just trying to figure you out.” I admitted.

He let out a sharp bark of laughter, a knowing smirk on his face, “Don’t do that, kitten - too many people have tried already,” He said, “And they end up more insane than me!” He exclaimed wildly, his eyes flashing.

I watched him warily, but I believed him – his mind was not a rabbit hole I wanted to fall down.

He grinned as I conceded to this, turning back to his desk.

“So, what happens now then?” I called to his back in a moment of bravery, my voice raspy from the bruising.

He paused for a moment. “As I said, doll,” He began, sitting himself back down at his desk, facing me, “it’s time to get a high score.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” I asked, impatiently, feeling braver now he was on the opposite side of the room again.

“I’ll see you tonight, doll.” He told me ignoring my last comment, his head already back down and focused on the papers still on his desk.

I scowled at him, about to protest, but I knew that it would be a lost cause and I didn’t want to push my luck - my throat painful enough for one day.

I showed myself out of the office, pausing in the corridor when the door closed behind me.

I honestly had no idea what was going on anymore. Had he won? Yes – that was clear to me now. And yet he wasn’t claiming on the bet? Why not? Was that what was happening tonight?

But then, what did he mean by getting a high score? Was he intending to keep trying to make me smile anyway? But he’d already done that once - what was the point?

I jumped when three henchmen suddenly appeared at the bottom of the staircase in front of me, all three of them covered in a chalky dust and a two of them carrying documents of some sort. They jogged up them remaining steps and I side stepped them quickly before they bowled me over in their attempt to reach the office door. I frowned at them in confusion, wondering what they were up to, but then I thought better – bound to be some sort of criminal act I didn’t want to know about – and I began to move off down the hallway. A gun shot sounded behind me and I spun around facing back down the corridor. Nothing. No movement. It must have come from the Joker’s office. I gulped, thankful I wasn’t in there anymore, before I turned back around and continued along the hallway – certain I didn’t want to get involved.

What on earth was I supposed to do now?

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

[thejokersenigma]

Joker x Reader - Deadly Voice Part 46

Hi guys, next part is ready (thanks to a late night of writing last night). I'll apologise now for any poor editing on my behalf - but I was determined to get it finished so I could post it this morning.

Its really long (over 5000 words) so I'll also apologise for that, but I couldn't see a great way to split it up so *shrug*

Also there's bits in here I'm not sure why I included them (which is probably why its soo long haha) but I just felt like writing it!

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

For those interested I will work towards the next part of Strictly Business before I write the next Deadly Voice (otherwise I'll keep putting it off) so if there is a little bit of a longer delay for the next part, that's why.

As always I love all your messages! (they make me feel loved! :D) and if anyone wants to chat I'm always here, and any requests I am more than welcome to give a go! :)

MASTERLIST

WARNINGS: Its long. Its SO FLUFFY (sorry)

We slept that way for the next few days. Come each morning the Joker had vanished and seemed to then spend the whole day out of the house from what I could gather - though come the night I would always hear him enter the room and get into bed next to me. He never said a word to me, but he was always there without fail.

I, myself, spent my days in the little piano room or the library mainly - I even took up cooking as a new way to entertain myself. Though it was an easy existence in the house, it was quite boring and lonely – most of the henchman leaving with the Joker so only a few were scattered around the halls (and they generally refused to speak to me).

Once, I had made an attempt to leave the house – there was no rule that said I was under house arrest after all – so I had waited until most of the men were out of the house, then snuck out the front door and wandered down the long street that wound down the hill to the rest of the city. I had never made it to the city centre - the distance too far for foot alone really - but I had found a small street that lead off the main road which had a newsagent’s, hairdressers and a small coffee shop and so I sat in the little café for a while, relishing the change of scene.

That was until half an hour later, when two 4x4s with tinted windows came rumbling down the street and had pulled up outside the window I had been sat by. The little shop had then been invaded by a bunch of armed men who had demanded I return to the house.

Apparently, it was a rule that I was under house arrest for the whole week.

It was my 5th day in the house when I awoke to yet another empty pillow next to me. The light from the large glass doors poured onto the bed and I squinted as I tilted my head toward the light source. I let out a small groan as consciousness worked its way through my mind, dispelling the sleepy haze and pushing my dreams aside.

Though I knew the Joker would be long gone, I did what I always did each morning, dragging myself up until I sat in bed, the covers hugged tightly to my body even though I still wore my improvised pyjamas of the Joker’s shirt and sweatpants – a suitable alternative still not found. I then searched the room for any sign of, but – as usual -  the room was silent and unmoving, the bathroom door flung open wide and no light on in the closet.

I relaxed slightly, happy that I was the only one in the room, and lay back down in the bed, yawning widely and then sighing contently as I relaxed back into the cushion behind me. I could honestly just lie here all day - why shouldn’t I? It wasn’t like I had anywhere else to go, or anything else to do.

That thought made we wonder back to my job – one I was sure I didn’t have anymore – I didn’t know if the Joker had just accepted my resignation when I had agreed to stay here, or maybe he still expect me to go? Either way I wasn’t going to. That job felt tinted now what with everything going on between me and him, and with the weird memory of Bobby still lingering at that bar.

I scrunched my eyes up at the thought of having to go back there and I rolled over so I now lay diagonally across the bed, my face pressed into the pillow that the Joker occupied each night. Immediately his scent hit me, the smell of him lingering on the bed sheet and filling my mind – the smell of cologne, gunpowder and sex.

I was lost in it, sucking it through me with every breath. I was wrong – this - this was where I could stay all day.

Then what I was doing hit me and I immediately swung myself away, back to my side of the bed, breathing quickly to try to dispel what was left of the scent in my nostrils. I was being weird. And creepy, but now I knew the smell, I could almost feel it working its way across the bed towards me which only coupled with the hint of him still on my makeshift pyjamas.

I sat myself up again, deciding that being locked in this house was slowly driving me insane and I just needed to get out of bed and clear my head. I swung my legs over the side of the mattress, about to push myself to my feet when a folded piece of paper on the bedside table next to me caught my eye. It had a knife rammed through it and embedded into the wood beneath.

I was certain that hadn’t been there last night and I felt uneasy to think someone had stood that close to me with a knife, ready to stab – if only into the dresser next to me.

Not that was normal - in anyway. I told myself harshly. There was nothing normal about stabbing a knife through a table as a crude paper weight. It was important to me that I remembered this – otherwise I might start thinking other things were normal - that the Joker was almost normal - almost sane. And that was a dangerous rabbit hole to get sucked down.

I stared at the knife a bit longer - and I would be lying if I said I didn’t check for sign of blood on the blade as I sat there. Eventually curiosity got the better of me and leant over, pulling at the knife. It stuck fast - having been rammed deeply into the wood - it must have took quite a bit of force, and I recalled again how close I must have been to the person wielding this weapon.

After wiggling it around a bit, I managed to tease it out of the table and I placed it on the bed cover to the side of me, my attention now on the paper which I picked up and unfolded, reading the brief, scrawled message written in purple ink.

Meet me at the club tonight. No cheating remember.

I smirked at the last comment, rolling my eyes at the paper. The whole message was straight to the point – classic Joker. It clearly wasn’t a question of whether I wanted to or not, I had to. But there was no indication of which club, or when to meet him. I frowned, at the wall in front of me, was I just supposed to guess? I doubted that would go down well with the Joker – I imagined he appreciated punctuation – well apart from his own anyway.

I looked back at the knife that lay beside me. What was the point of stabbing the table after all? There was no breeze in the room – it wasn’t like it was going to blow away.

Was it a way to make up for past nights? To make me remember he was still the insane psycho I knew - even if for a moment the other night, he had been almost nice and understanding? Was it a way of saying to still be afraid of him? To remind me of how dangerous he was? Or had he just been angry? Had he had thought about stabbing me, but controlled himself at the last moment? Or was he just insane and felt this was a reasonable thing to do?

The different scenarios played through my mind - each sounding completely plausible – until I eventually had to sigh and shake them out of my head. I could sit here forever coming up with new explanations for the behaviour, but the truth was, I would never know – I would never understand the Joker.

Even so, I stayed on the bed a few moments longer before I could fully pull myself together. I got dressed and headed down the now-familiar corridors to the kitchen where I ate my breakfast alone in silence. And my lunch. And my dinner.

The whole day I wasn’t interrupted by anyone. I caught the occasional glimpse of a henchman, but generally even they made themselves scarce. The day passed quickly and slowly, the minutes dragging, but the hours flying by. And I couldn’t decide which I wanted more.

I was dreading tonight and facing the Joker again – and that was only if I could get to the place on time. If I didn’t manage to it would probably be an even worse night so the last thing I wanted was the hours to race by. But at the same time, I dreaded it so much I just wanted to get it over and done with so I prayed for the time to fly, the clock instead, dragging its hands.

So, I tried to avoid staring at the clock for the day as - no matter what I saw - I didn’t like it. Instead I remained in my little piano room with my stack of books again, and spent the time to make myself proper meals rather than just snacking.

I had retired to the library that evening to while away the evening in the shadow of the books, my only light source being the small table lamp sat next to me. I wasn’t sure how long I had been there when there was a knock at the door causing me to practically jump out of my own skin.

“Hello?” I asked called out, my voice faltering as I sat up, alert in the armchair I had folded myself into, my heart beating loudly in my ear. The door opened, the hinges creaking slightly with their age, and Frost stepped into the room. I immediately relaxed back into my seat.

Frost flicked on the main light in the room, the brightness painful compared to the lamp and I had to shield my eyes with my hand, temporary blinded.

“You’re not dressed?” Frost asked, alarmed, as he looked at me curled up, my legs tucked underneath me in the old, worn armchair that I presumed had been left here from the previous tenants.

“What?” I asked, confused by the question – I was dressed, I thought, looking down at my jeans and t-shirt.

“The club?” He suggested, trying to jog my memory “I’m here to take you.” He told me.

“Right now?!” I asked alarmed. Frost nodded. I looked back down at my jeans and T-shirt which now looked ten times worse than then had a minute ago. Shit.

“How much time do I have?” I asked desperately, already flinging myself to my feet.

“Less than 10 minutes.” Frost told me gravely.

“Ahhhhh…” I moaned now on my feet and pacing, my mind panicking about what I should be doing first and my feet confused where to go. “Give me a few minutes!” I cried and fled the room, taking the staircase two at a time and dashing to the Joker’s room.

I threw myself into the walk-in closet and swung all the wardrobes open on my side, staring blindly at the many dresses, skirts and tops that hung before me. I groaned at the selection – now was not the time to be trying to work out what was decent. I ran back out of the room and into the hallway again. “FROST!” I yelled as loudly as possible. There was a pause before I heard the footsteps practically running towards me.

He arrived, hand on his gun, body tense and alert, ready for any threat. When he saw me stood there unharmed he relaxed a millimetre. “What is it?” He demanded, tense.

“You have to help me!” I told him, yanking at the arm on his gun, taking him by surprise and pulling him into the room, “I have no idea what to wear!” I explained desperately, hauling the bewildered Frost to the door of the closet. “Help me!” I demanded urgently.

Frost wits seemed to return to him and he dug his heels into the carpet so I was unable to move him, no matter how much I pulled at him. “What the hell do you want me to do about it?” He demanded in surprise at my plea, his professionalism lost in my odd behaviour.

“You’ve been to these sorts of things plenty of times! And with the Joker!” I pointed out, “You know better than I do what I should wear!” I explained, still hopelessly tugging at his immobile figure. “Now go in there.” I puffed, now trying to push him - the exertion of trying to get him to move getting to me - “And find something – anything – for me to wear!” I pleaded.

Frost considered me and my desperate state for a moment before he begrudgingly entered the closet. “Thank you!” I cried after him in relief before rushing to the bathroom to get ready where I could.

When I came back out, refreshed and more presentable, there was a dress laid on the bed in front of me with jewellery laid next to it and on the floor beneath.

Frost wasn’t in sight. He must have left before I demanded anything else of him.

I picked up the dress, holding it out and surveying it sceptically. It looked short, tight and revealing and definitely not something I would have chosen myself. I had half a mind to put it back but I didn’t have time and I couldn’t do that to Frost after I had just begged for his help.

I swallowed my fear and put it on. It fit perfectly. But it fit like a glove. A very tight, revealing glove. It was a relatively simple deep purple dress, simple straps that started thick at the shoulder and thinned as they reached the dress that hovered just over my bust. It hugged every curve of my body, finishing only halfway down my thighs making me tug at it self-consciously.

I didn’t have time to worry too much though, so I hung a long silver necklace around my neck, the large pendant falling just past the top of my dress, then put on the matching earrings and a single silver bangle on my wrist, before stepping into a pair of dark purple high heels which made me feel 2 foot taller. After dressing myself with everything Frost had laid out, I headed back into the bathroom to finish applying my makeup.

There came a knocking at the door to the bedroom as I emerged from the bathroom, just finishing running a brush through my hair – I had opted to leave it down, not having the time to mess with new styles.

I opened it to find Frost waiting. He looked me up and down and must have approved because his face didn’t change to the look of alarm he had given me earlier. “We need to go.” He said bluntly.

“You look beautiful too Frost.” I said sarcastically stepping out of the bedroom and closing the door behind me.

“You look more than beautiful, [Y/N].” Frost told me and offered his arm for me to take. I blushed hotly at the comment and dropped my eyes, glad the darkness of the corridor would hide most of my redness.

I was glad Frost had offered his arm to me as I worked my way out of the house - I only ever wore heels this high when I was on stage and I tended to just stand still if I opted for this height. Without Frost to lean on, I was sure I would have toppled down the large staircase at least 5 times.

The car journey took place in silence – Frost not one for small talk and me too nervous about the upcoming night to want to make much conversation with him.

Eventually the car stopped and Frost got out. I went to follow, but before I could, the car door was pulled open and Frost offered a hand to pull me out. Once back balanced on my heels I thanked him and noticed another, shorter man stood beside me, holding the door open. I thanked him too. Frost handed the shorter man the keys to the 4x4 and led the way forward, this time not offering his arm and forcing me to navigate my way on my stilts without him.

A little bit of me had been worried the Joker would be at Club 52 – the club I use to run -  and I really hadn’t wanted to go back there. But the club in front of me was one I hadn’t seen before, though I had certainly heard of it – it was the Joker’s most famous club – the Circus.

I myself had never been in, but when you’re in the nightclub business you always hear about the best ones – you need to know your competition after all. It was said to have different theme each Saturday night until the circus theme came around. When it was circus night you either had to be really brave, stupid or insanely drunk to spend a night there. I never quite got why, but I’d heard people went missing on those nights.

I was really glad it was a Thursday.

I followed Frost inside the nightclub and down some stairs until he led me onto the main dancefloor. He easily cleared a path through the mass of bodies writhing and grinding around us and I hurried after him, making sure I stuck as close to him as possible to avoid getting lost behind the wall of people that closed up around us as soon as we moved on.

The blaring music from the giant speakers pounded in my ears and made me deaf to the noise from the people around me trying to make conversation. I was shoved and jolted a few times, narrowly avoiding drink spills and once being knocked off into another person who tried to push me back. I would have become a human pinball if Frost hadn’t grabbed my armed and pulled me back upright. He kept a hold of me after that, tugging me through the room and into a ‘staff only’ corridor on the opposite wall.

Behind the heavy sound proof door, the music was blocked out to a low rumble and my ears rang with the remnants of the strong vibrations. Though I was enjoying the sweet silence, Frost didn’t pause, continuing down the hallway and I followed quickly after him.

He led me up a couple of flights of stairs and then down a dark corridor until we stopped outside a door. He knocked smartly, paused a moment, and then pushed the door open, stepping into the room with me following on close behind.

“Not now Frost.” I heard the familiar snarl from across the room as the Joker brushed Frost’s presence away. Frost has stepped aside to wait, revealing me in the doorway behind him. Now I had a clear view of the room and the people in it. Directly in front of me was a long table with at least 10 chairs sat to the side – probably for any meetings I imagined. Past this I could see the back wall was similar to one in my old club as it seemed to be made of one-way glass that looked out over the rest of the club.

In front of this, on a slightly raised dais was a large, throne-like office chair with a large, slightly curved desk and - pressed up against the one-way glass window – was a large cushiony sofa which faced the desk and high-back chair.

I understood the arrangement immediately. The Joker would sit in the large chair and would see the person in the sofa, but also the whole club. If he then spun to the door I stood in he would be placed at the head of the meeting table, even if he was a good 15+ foot away.

I was too busy taking in the room to initially notice the people in the room, it was only as I searched the room a second time I froze on who sat on the expensive couch.

The Penguin.

Though it had taken me so long to notice him, his gaze was already on me, probably noting me as soon as Frost had stepped aside. Shock nailed me in place, my heart sinking and blood running cold. What was he doing here? Was there a plan against me? For me? What was happening?

The Joker seemed to realise something was wrong in the sudden loss of the portly man’s attention and spun his chain, leaning around the edge of the high-back to follow the Penguin’s eye line.

His eyes noticeably darkened on seeing me stood there and I noticed his hand that I could see clench on the arm of the chair before he turned back to the man before him. “Let’s leave this happy reunion there shall we?” He asked and I could see his face splitting into a sickly-sweet grin – clearly not a truthful smile of pleasure.

The large man nodded, “Of course.” He agreed, pushing his plump figure to his feet and reaching for his hat that was perched on the cushion next to him. He fitted the formal headwear back onto his blading scalp and hobbled his way past the desk and in my direction.

The Joker followed his movements, his eyes laced with hatred and danger.

Frost suddenly caught my attention as he stuck out an arm in front of me and I looked down to see him presenting the Penguin with his cane. I assumed it had been seized on entering the room due to its weaponization.

He thanked Frost and made to hobble to the door, but paused beside me. I turned to him, taking in his greasy hair, beady eyes and large pointed nose with revulsion, “And you - my little dove - are looking more lovely than ever.” He praised in his oily manner before he limped his way from the room, the door closing behind him.

I shivered in disgust at the interaction and turned back to the Joker, but he had spun his regal chair back around to face the window - though I didn’t need to see him to feel the anger and menace rolling off him in waves. What was I supposed to do - just stand here? Did I go to him? Or was that risking my life? Was I risking my life by not going to him? I looked to Frost with pleading eyes, begging to know what to do. Frost gave me the tiniest of shrugs – clearly, he was at a loss too.

I swallowed heavily and tried to muster some courage – this could be brave or foolish – and I walked up behind his chair, trying to appear confident in my decision. As I got closer though, my nerves got the better of me and I hesitated at the side of the desk, not looking directly at him, but letting my hair fall over my face slightly and peering through the strands. From what I could see he was staring stonily out into the club.

“Are you ok?” I asked hesitantly, immediately cursing myself – what a stupid question – especially to a crime lord and certified insane person who was looking like he wanted to stab someone.

His eyes flashed to mine and the murder in them was so clear that I couldn’t help but recoil as though he had slapped me. But I didn’t turn and run as I probably should have, instead I treaded my way softly around the side of the desk to the sofa, sitting on the opposite cushion to that which the Penguin had occupied a few moments ago.

I stared uneasily at my lap where I had clasped my hands together, every inch of my body telling me it wasn’t safe be here right now – it was like trying to approach a rabid dog or sleeping lion – one wrong move and he’d snap.

“I – um – never thanked you for getting me out of that contract with him.” I said down at my sweating palms and – though he made no acknowledgement of my comment – I was sure he had heard me.

I probably should I have stopped there - quit whilst I was ahead – but my mouth was running now, the nerves getting the better of me. “I just – I see him and I want to –“ I growled out, my jaw clenched in suppressed anger and I gripped my hands together tightly, my nails digging into my skin.

I thought I caught movement in front of me and I braved a look up at the Joker. My last faltered sentence seemed to have broken the Joker out of his trance of death and violence and he was now looking at me with something odd in his eyes, “Do go on, doll…” He purred darkly.

 “Uh –“ I stammered, my anger had melted the moment I had become aware of what I had said and who I had said it to, and now I was too surprised he was talking to me again.

He smirked at my look of bewilderment, “Come on doll, I want the juicy details – tell me what you’d do to that puffed up pengie.” He growled with a dark grin, his teeth still clenched in anger at the large well-dressed man.

“I – uh – well – I – I don’t know.” I stuttered out, my mind wiped clear of what I had been going to say and I was too embarrassed now even if I had known.

“Hmm,” The Joker considered me and the bright red colour I had become, “Frost,” He called behind him without removing his eyes from me, the henchman appearing at his shoulder in an instant, “Get us some liquid courage.” The Joker growled menacingly.

I gulped at this, “Uh – no – it’s alright I –“

The Joker held up his hand at me, “Doll, it’s going to be a long night if you can’t come up with full sentences all evening.” He told me seriously. I shut my mouth then, reluctantly agreeing that this was probably true - I’d only have a couple of drinks after all and I’d be fine.

  A few hours later I wasn’t sure what I’d drunk or how much, but there always seemed to be a steady supply of new drinks sent up to us and my drink was constantly being refilled so I was never sure when I had finished a glass.

This wasn’t without a certain amount of protest however - especially at the start - but no one could disagree with the Joker for long so I had always conceded to ‘one more’ until my resistance was completely worn down with the warming alcohol feeling. I wasn’t the only one - the Joker was matching me drink for drink most of the time - though he seemed to be dealing with it a lot better than me.

“Do you want to dance?” He suddenly said to me. I had been lost, sat on the arm of the soda, staring out at the vibrant lights that pulsed on the dance floor below and people watching as they danced and chatted to one another – I could get the tone of the conversations thanks to the expressions I caught on their faces when a light flickered across them.

I didn’t bother to turn when I answered, keeping my eyes on the scene below me. “Not really my scene.” I admitted - maybe I wasn’t that drunk? I might have run a nightclub, but I didn’t generally participate as a customer at them.

“Not even with me, doll?” He asked, and I could hear the mocking sad plead in his voice.

“What?” I asked, finally turning to face him where he stood watching me by the long table which now held a collection of different glasses from our many drinks.

I wasn’t sure I had heard him right.

He rolled his eyes at my bewildered face, “Dance with me, doll.” He repeated, in a bored tone as though it was the last thing in the world he wanted to do.

I frowned. “You sound so enthusiastic.” I told him sarcastically, but I still stood up from my perch on the sofa to face him. He growled at me, but I could tell it was playful – even if it wasn’t I think I was too far in my alcohol induced haze to care.

I turned back to the night life visible through the one-way window, “You actually want to?” I asked, not believing him.

“Not out there.” He said, having followed my eyeline, “I have a reputation to uphold afterall…” he growled lowly. His voice growing ever closer and I could almost feel him prowling towards me behind my back.

Suddenly he grabbed my upper arms from behind, his mouth at my ear, “But back here,” he purred seductively, “I can do whatever I like.” With that, he spun me around so I was face to face with him, a devilish grin on his face.

If I had been in my right mind I might have pulled away at that point.

Maybe.

Though I couldn’t be sure.

“Now, dance with me, doll.” He said, holding out a pale hand in the small space between us.

“You are so controlling.” I scolded him, but I took his hand anyway, more than a bit intrigued what was going to happen.

“That’s what you don’t get though, doll” he said, tugging my body so I fell forward into him, his other hand at my back, ensuring I stayed pressed against his chest. “I don’t want control.” He purred in my ear. “I want spontaneity, thrill and chaos…”

The music that pounded its way up from below was muffled but a generic club song with a fast beat made for jumping and grinding too. This didn’t seem to faze the Joker who instead moved me around the office floor in a waltz-like movement with such accurate steps and sways I wondered if there was a particular piece of music playing through his mind.

His previous words resonated with me as he pulled me round in our dance. I kept up with him as well as I could but he was light and limber on his feet and I always felt a few steps behind him - though we still seemed to move effortlessly – mainly because I clung to him tightly as he swung me around faster, twirling us both across the floor, in a controlled chaos – one false move could send us both flying, but I just held on, oddly trusting the Joker.

The music must have come to a climax in his mind because the Joker suddenly spun me out from him so I whirled under his arm. As I spun the world around me blurred at the speed apart from his grin which stayed focused in my mind. I couldn’t help but smile widely at the sensation - I felt careless and free in my intoxicated state.

When I eventually fell out of it I stumbled drunkenly backwards into his chest, disorientated, giddy and giggling childishly. I leant my head back against his chest, tilting my head up to see his face, a wild grin stretching my face and I was vaguely aware of not having smiled this brightly for years now.

The Joker looked down into my beaming face and grinned back at me. But this time it was different. This wasn’t his usual menacing grin that sent chills through people, that hid its true meaning behind red lipstick and metal teeth. No, this one looked genuine and happy and - in that moment -  I felt stone cold sober.

I didn’t remember clearly what happened the rest of the night. After that, I had called for more alcohol and drowned myself in it, scared of my own feelings.

The next time I was conscious of what I was doing was back at the mansion in the Joker’s bedroom, the cold evening air having driven away some of the alcohol’s warmth. I remembered being exhausted, somehow getting dressed, and then collapsing into the bed.

I had wrapped myself into the duvet before I felt another person get in the bed next to me. Then cool warms wrapping around my body and pulling me back against the Joker’s chest. I didn’t resist, instead allowing myself to fit snugly in the shape of him, relaxing against him and the safety I had felt in that moment.

I could feel the warm haze of the alcohol wearing off even more as I lay there, but I let myself enjoy the moment, a small smile appearing on my lips as I drifted into a heavy slumber.

I felt the Joker shift behind me, then felt his lips on the top of my head, “I think, doll.” He purred lazily down at me, “That I win.”

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

[thejokersenigma]

Joker x OC - Strictly Business Part 1

Hi guys, so this was a request I was given at the beginning of the week:

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.

There were a few particular they wanted, but that would make this a long post (longer than usual) so I'll leave it at that!

After beginning to write this I figured it would be better as a 2-3 part piece, and as the Anon didn't specify if this was suppose to be a oneshot or not I've decided to spilt it up (otherwise it would be huge because I'm really bad at writing small pieces of work! haha

Anyway, hope you enjoy it!

Thank you to the Anon for the asking for the request - I hope it's what you were after - let me know if it's not and I can try again!

Masterlist

Strictly Business MASTERLIST

  I shuffled together the mass of papers that were splayed out over the expanse of my desk, shoving them into a neater pile and tapping them on the flat surface until they were inline, then placed them to the side of me.

I straightened up, hyperextending my back and feeling the ache ring through my muscles – maybe I ought to take up Yoga again – hunching over a desk wasn’t helping my posture or my back.

I pushed myself to my feet, the sun already beginning to fade behind the skyscrapers that filled the view from my large office window. It was getting late and I needed to get going.

I picked up my now-uniform pile of papers and nestled them into the crook of my arm, moving around my desk and heading for the door, grabbing my handbag and coat from the hook on the back of the door.

I locked the office up behind me, dropping the keys into the expanse of my back, before straightening myself out and walking the brief distance across the open floor of offices to the only other room as large as mine on this floor - and the entire building – my husband’s.

I knocked smartly on his door, pausing only a moment before I heard the faint acceptance into the room and I pushed the door open.

Though the room was as large as mine, it was decorated completely differently. Whilst mine took on a more modern look and was decorated to look sleek with its metals and sharp edges, Mathew’s took a more traditional, old-fashion design of dark wooden furniture and dim lighting – as close to a hunting lodge as he could get.

My eyes met my husband’s first when I walked into the room, he sat behind the large dark oak desk, his attention momentarily diverted from the folder in front of him. I gave him a small smile of greeting before turning my attention to his visitors who sat on matching dark leather armchairs on the opposite side. I nodded to them in greeting and they returned warm welcomes, knowing full well who I was.

“My apologies, gentlemen.” I said quickly, striding past them to my husband, who stood up to greet me. “Just some last-minute paperwork before I get ready for the gala tonight.” I explained handing the papers over to Mathews waiting hand.

“Off already?” He asked, surprised.

Ah Mathew – always the one to burn the midnight oil.

“It’s already getting dark.” I pointed, knowing full well he probably hadn’t looked at the time for at least 3 hours – too busy wrapped up in meetings or papers to ever look around his environment. He could work in the sewer and not care as long as the work kept coming in – it made me wonder why he’d bothered with such a nice office space. “Besides, I have to make sure everything is running smoothly,” I said, with a smile at the men sat across from me then smile in agreement, “and then I have to get ready myself – not all of us can just throw on a suit and turn up.” I added with a wink in the direction of the other men who chortled at my teasing.

“Fine, fine.” Mathew brushed me off with a slight hand gesture, too busy for my gentle ribbing right now and already flicking through the papers I had given him, his mind quickly becoming lost in them. “I’ll see you this evening then?” He asked, but I could tell he was already lost in the documents, so I gave him a small nod and headed for the door. “St. George’s?” Mathew suddenly called out to me and I turned to see him looking at me. I nodded again – his memory for things other than work rather poor. “Tonight then.” He said, half to himself, immediately re-immersing into his reading. over the corner of the dark wood desk to.

I gave a small smile to the other men and left the room.

I spent the rest of my evening darting around the venue for the gala later that night, checking the alcohol had arrived, the servers present, the decorations in place and any other little problem that was handed to me. It was a bit later than I hoped that I finally headed back to my flat. I spent the last few hours getting myself dolled up and ready to host, whilst also answering the phone that continued to ring for my attention – I never stopped working.

Work ruled my life now. It hadn’t always. I used to be young and foolish, carefree like many others in their 20’s. But then reality had hit me at 21 when I lost both my parents and soon found myself without any money. That had been a cold hard slap in the face at a time where I was used to having spare cash to throw around as I pleased. Suddenly I was forced to work to survive and I could no longer afford to be frivolous or waste my time on anything but improving my prospects.

But now I was better off than I had ever been – I made more money than anyone in my family had ever done, thanks to now owning one of the largest business in Gotham, rivalled only really now by Wayne Enterprises.

Yet I still worked constantly.

There had been a time when I was taunted by my colleagues for never 'letting my hair down', but I had simply regarded them as childish, they didn’t know me – no one really did, I had no friends left from the tie before my parent’s death – and no one could understand what my work meant to me.

I think I found enjoyment in it. In my work.

Before it had been a way to get money, to survive and then to be comfortable, and then secure.

Then it had become a coping mechanism to deal with the tragedy in my life, I had kept myself buried in the work load from the start to keep my mind busy on anything but what I had lost.

Now it thrilled me – the tense waiting for a deal to come through, the rush when you pulled off the biggest merger, the power of manipulation of those who hadn’t been in the game long enough to realise they could be so easily swayed by a few choice words.

It kept me going.

If I didn’t have my work - if I stopped for even a moment – I would surely collapse under the weight of everything I had been putting off for so long.

 After applying the last touch to my makeup I grabbed my clutch and shrugged a thin shawl over my shoulders, before I headed out into the night. I hailed a cab and sat silently in the back, tapping away at my phone and relishing in the peace behind I had to endure a night of socialising.

 I wasn’t a huge people person. I dealt with them because I had to, not because I wanted to - If I could have it my way it would be just my job and me, no one else. Not even Mathew.

Maybe that was why I didn’t mind manipulating and conning people the way I did, and maybe that was why I didn’t care that I never went out, my social life only comprising events like tonight - which was really just another night of working for me. After all, it was events like tonight where all the huge deals were make - there was at least one merger that hung in the balance this evening.

So that’s how I tricked myself into putting up with these things – it was just a large, slightly oddly laid out, meeting room, full of people to be seduced and persuaded into giving me their money and their businesses.

My problem was, few other people saw it like this.

And that’s how I ended up where I currently was.

I had entered the large venue room relatively late for the hostess and worked my way around a few of the groups of businessmen and socialites, chatting away where necessary, laying the foundation for further, more serious talks later. Eventually I had found my husband on the other side of the room, already engaged in a deep conversation with a couple of Bruce Wayne’s employees.

I had strode up to them, greeting the group of men warmly. Mathew had given me a small peck on the cheek – the obligatory mark of a man greeting the woman he was lawfully wedded to – no romance and little tenderness in the gesture, simply something to keep up the show of our relationship.

I had stood with them for a while, happily chatting about the ever elusive Mr. Wayne and how their company fared with the recent drop in certain stocks and rises in other areas, both of the sides staying just as closed up and carefully as the other.

If I could stay speaking to the men all night like this, these evenings were generally fine – all of us enjoying the discussions of numbers and profits. However, all too often I was singled out by my gender and driven over to the other women in the room – the businessman’s wives.

These ladies had no idea what a profit margin was or the difference between fixed and variable costs and instead insisted on talking about their family lives and the gossip amongst the rest of their little group.

My problem was, I didn’t care that Junior had just started walking, or Mary had just made it to high school, I didn’t care that Mark had just proposed to Sue or that James seemed bored of Kim. I had no interest in children – other peoples or my own – and I didn’t care about romantic partners – despite marrying Mathew.

But that had never been romantic – it had never been for ‘love’.

When I was younger my parents had always pushed that they wanted me married, and I had fallen for everything a young naïve child does about love at first sight and the hopes of being swept off my feet by a handsome stranger across the room.

Of course, that had gone with the rest of my foolishness after my parents had passed, but the question of marriage never seemed to leave the conversation - in fact, as I got older, the question of my single-hood became more and more repetitive.

That was about the time I had met Mathew. He had been in charge of a company of similar size to my own and we had been on the war path for quite some time - always trying to outdo one another. I had seen nothing there but two businesses fighting it out to be on the top.

Mathew had not.

After a particularly heated meeting between our two sides he had pulled me aside and waved a white flag, asking me to drinks that evening. I had seen it as a chance to ply him with alcohol and get some information from him and had accepted.

Information was not what I got however. I got a marriage proposal.

I thought it had been ridiculous at the time  – a simple whim from the man after too many whiskeys. But - ever being a business woman - I had not turned him down straight away. I let the offer linger.

The next few days I had considered my options, planned and reworked every outcome possible from the different sides of this ‘deal’ as I called it. I couldn’t see a reason not to say yes – if he agreed to my conditions.

And so, we had struck a deal. Our companies would merge, both of us would be joint, equal partners with it, and I would marry him - thereby removing the pressure of society off my back.

I never truly understood what he got from it – had he wanted the companies merged? Surely there was another way around other than marrying me? Had he ‘loved’ me? I was never sure and I still wasn’t sure of anything but that he definitely didn’t ‘love’ me anymore.

“So, any sign of children on the horizon for you, Leah?” The voice forced me to focus back in on the conversation around me as the 3 elegantly dressed women in front of me chattered away. This was the new repetitive question to replace that of marriage.

For the millionth time I shook my head, “We’re both so busy people.” I explained, “We don’t think it would be fair.”

“Me and Harvey thought that initially, but our nanny is perfect!” Explained the tall, stick thin woman to my right. I nodded and smiled as the conversation now switched to everyone’s current or previous nanny and nursery services.

I downed my glass and excused myself for a new drink, making my way over to one of the many small tables laid out with refreshments, in case the servers were busy elsewhere. I grabbed a fresh glass of champagne and found myself stood by the entrance to the vast room, hidden away from the pressing crowd behind a pillar.

I sipped at my drink, watching the tendrils of bubbles swirl and waltz in my champagne, as I recuperated from the suffocating mass of bodies.

A movement to my right caught my eye and I turned my head to see a man walking through the large double door entrance way to the room. He wore a tuxedo that fitted his frame perfectly, with no tie or bowtie and the top few buttons of his shirt undone to leave the muscles around his neck clearly visible. He carried a cane with him, occasionally using it, but mainly swinging it at his side in his white gloved hands.

This is in itself was unusual, but was not what initially caught my eyes. No, my eyes had been dragged by his long vibrant green hair that was slicked neatly back in place and the bright red lips that were only emphasised by his very pale, almost alabaster skin.

I couldn’t seem to look away from him, I was too intrigued by his appearance and the power he seemed to just exude as he stood there surveying the room. There was something very odd about him and I was certain he couldn’t have been on the guest list – so how did he get in?

He looked almost bored as he glared out into the room. He held himself different from anyone else, with a vast amount of self-confidence that suggested he was far more important than any of the other millionaires in the room and he seemed to be almost assessing the room, like a lion assessing a herd of prey. The look in his eyes made me shiver.

The movement seemed to catch his eye and his gaze darted straight to mine. I was used to people trying to stare me down to intimidate me - and I was good at holding my own -but the intensity of the look he gave me seemed to burn my eyes and the itch to drop my gaze was agonizing.

He started to step toward me, and even his walk was different, it was precise and graceful and it felt like he was stalking me. It was only as he got closer that his appearance became stranger, he didn’t have any eyebrows, and there was a ‘Damaged’ written in cursive on his forehead and a small J under his left eye.

“Well hello there...” He growled, eyeing me up and down, swinging his cane as he approached. “Aren’t you… Beautiful…” He snarled, his voice sounding sinful and - though I scowled at his vulgarity - I wasn’t nearly as disgusted as I should have been, instead I could feel my temperature rise by a few degrees. He held my gaze a bit longer, the icy blue seeming to trap me.

“Why don’t you be a doll, doll, and go get the man in charge.” He purred at me, breaking the eye contact off and surveying the crowded room.

"You’re looking at her, doll.” I mimicked, not amused by his patronising comment.

He raised his invisible eyebrows at me, “Hmm,” The pale man seemed to consider me with interest, “Fiery little cracker aren't ya, doll?” He asked, stepping closer towards me with a sneer on his face. I read the power play in his movements, many a man having tried this on me before - even Matt had attempt it when we first met. I stood my ground, reminding myself repeatedly that I could have this man thrown out of here easily – though I would prefer not to make a scene.

“No, sir.” I replied firmly, not amused by his childish mocking, “ I am just a woman hosting an important business gala with a very strict guest list. And I am certain that no child entertainers were required.” I told him sternly, eyeing him up and down with a look of distaste - though I had to admit some of it was forced - the sight in front of me not wholly unappealing.

The man’s upper lip curled at my comment, “Oh I can show you entertainment doll,” He purred threateningly, stepping even closer.

“Another step, and security will be in this room in less than 2 seconds, I guarantee it.” I warned him fiercely, standing tall and confident in my heels, determined now not give in under his intense blue stare.

He didn’t come any closer, but he also didn’t retreat, he just stood, a wide grin now stretching across his face and showing metal caps on the visible teeth, the shiny surface glinting in the overhead lights.

“So, tell me doll…” He growled lowly, placing his cane in front of him and leaning over on it so he came closer to me without taking a step, I scowled at him. “Who are you?”

“Who are you, and why are you here?” I asked instead, not willing to play his little game.

He grinned at me, “You don’t watch a lot of news do ya, doll?” He asked, a knowing gleam in his eyes that I didn’t like. I scowled at him moodily, “jeez doll, are you always this grumpy? He asked with a hint of mocking in his tone. “Won’t give without a take, hmm?” he asked with a tilt of his head, “Alright doll, first you, then me.”

I stared at him coldly, still refusing to be ordered around by this unusual man.

“Fine!” He moaned dramatically, exaggerating his eyes roll at my stubbornness. “I'll start.” He said, “I'm here to rob the place.”

At first, I thought this was just more of his seemingly twisted humour, but he sounded so serious…

“I'm calling security.” I stated, no longer wanting to put up with this strange man, and I made to move past him, heading towards the  service phone I knew was out in the hallway.

“Ah ah ah, doll.” He tutted at me, swinging his arm out to catch me as I strode past him. He was stronger than his thin, chiselled face led me to believe and I could feel the muscles in his arm flex under his jacket as he wrestled me backwards. One step back from me was all he needed and he swiftly pulled his arm back, now pushing a sharp point into my stomach. I gasped, tensing my stomach, trying to withdraw it from the point, but too scared what he might do if I moved. “Don't be such a tattle tale,” He sang playfully in my ear and then placed more pressure on the knife, the point digging through my dress and into my skin. I was forced to step backwards, and he only eased up when I was back to my original position.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” I demanded, though keeping my voice low to avoid making a huge scene over something I hoped I could handle.

He held up a finger to me, gesturing for me to wait, then, keeping the knife against my stomach, he used his other hand to dig into his jacket pocket to pull out a playing card which he handed over to me face down.

I took it wordlessly, wondering if he suddenly wanted to perform a magic trick. I frowned at him confused and turned the card over to reveal a joker.

I shook my head in confusion, “I don’t –“ I began, when I suddenly remembered. It was true, I didn’t watch a lot of local news, especially if nothing to do with stock markets – I didn’t have the time, I usually had someone else just produce a summary for me of all the daily costs and profits that would come in due to local occurrences – but I had heard the name Joker. An escape of Arkham Asylum and a crime lord on the streets of Gotham.

Was it time to get someone’s attention now? Should I scream?

Suddenly there was a finger inches away from my face, “Not a word doll.” He purred, pressing the knife harder into my stomach and I gasped.

“You're going to rob this place on your own?” I scoffed through the pain, trying to keep my cool, even if I was at knife point.

"Never underestimate a man without a plan!” He grinned sadistically at me and I could see the true sick and twisted nature in his eyes.

“Now doll…” He snarled dangerously, “Shall we continue?” He asked, his voice suddenly sickly sweet and painfully pleasant, “What is your name and what is it you do?”

I swallowed, trying not to move my stomach against the weapon too much. I was truly afraid for my life now, the truth of my situation only too clear now. “My name is Leah. I'm a partner of INK.” I quoted out as the knife bit into my skin.

“Wow, doll. A real successful business woman.” He seemed impressed, “Who are the other partners?” He asked, pushing even harder on the knife.

“Just my husband.” I gasped, scrunching my eyes closed at the pain, the pressure forcing me to bend over slightly.

He retracted the knife slightly, giving me a small amount of relief, “Your husband, hmm?” He asked, as though generally intrigued, “And where is he?”

I didn’t know why the psychotic clown wanted to know and I definitely didn’t want to answer – I wouldn’t sell out my husband to this criminal clown, but I also knew I was about to be skewered with a knife if I didn’t tell him. “Whatever you want with him you can take up with me!” I told him fiercely.

“Brave, doll, I see.” He muttered, nodding, “But that wasn’t an answer to the question, was it?”He snarled, “So, I’ll ask again,” He said, a fierceness in his voice this time that made me cower until his gaze, “Where. Is. He?”

I swallowed again, trying to embrace the pain like I knew some people were able to. I continued to refuse to answer, staring at him in a stubborn silence, fighting against the tears of pain that were threatening in the corners of my eyes.

“Come on now, doll.” He urged, his teeth clenched together like he was restraining himself from doing something, “It’s only a simple question of interest,” He sneered, “Promise I won't harm him.” He pleaded mockingly, but at the same time I felt the knife again, and I scrunched my face at the pain.

What was I going to do? He had promised not to hurt him after all. Sure, I doubted an Arkham patient and crime lord was going to be a man of his word, but it was better than nothing right? Or was that just the pain and alcohol talking?

I didn’t want to be the reason Mathew got hurt, but here I was being basically tortured into giving information.

Whilst I debated in my head, eyes on the floor, and partially doubled over in pain, the Joker leant over me, bending down to my ear, “If he was in your position, would he be as gallant for you?” His warm breath brushed past my ear and I wasn’t sure if I trembled or shivered, the movement causing the knife to cut a bit deeper.

Would he, though? I wondered. I wanted to say I couldn’t be sure, but deep down I felt like I knew the answer.

I pulled myself upright slightly, ignoring the protest of my skin as the blade point scraped down my skin. At the movement, the Joker released some of the pressure on the knife, giving me a brief relief from the pain, though the now-tender skin still stung with the memory.

I didn’t say anything, feeling the knife drop away completely as I turned my back on the Joker. I scanned the crowded room until my gaze fell on a group of three men in suits stood chatting, each holding a small glass of an amber liquid. My eyes focused on the tallest man, neatly shaven, his brown hair combed neatly back and in a smart black suit with a crisp white shirt underneath.

“Ahh...” the Joker breathed behind me, confirming that he had seen the man. “Now tell me doll, has he even spared a moment for you this evening, hmm?” He asked quietly in my ear, another shiver passing down my spine at his breath on my neck and how close he was behind me.

 My eyes were glued to my husband’s figure, begging him to turn around and look at me, see the fear and panic in my eyes, if only for a moment.

But he didn't feel my gaze on the side of his face, or if he did, he chose to ignore it, continuing his conversation animatedly, without a care to the trauma his wife was experiencing across the room.

“Shame.” Purred the Joker behind me and I felt his hand drift to my hip, the knife point now digging into my back.

tags: @carouselcurls @6fish6 (I wasn't sure who wanted to be tagged in this as it's not Deadly voice - but the 2 I have tagged seemed to enjoy all my work so I thought you might want to read it?)

[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]

Fan Fiction Masterlists

DC

The Joker

The Riddler

Jervis Tetch

Gotham

Batman and Family

Sirens (Ivy/Harley/Selina)

Batman TellTale Series

Marvel

Avengers (General)

Loki Laufeyson

Tony Stark

Bucky Barnes

Peter Parker

Steve Rogers

Thor Odinson

Star Wars

Kylo Ren

IMAGINES MASTERLIST

[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 Strictly Business Masterlist

Summary: A request I was given: 

‘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.’

There were a few particular they wanted, but this was the rough idea

After beginning to write this I got carried away and as the Anon didn’t specify if this was suppose to be a oneshot or not I’ve decided to spilt it up into multiple parts to give it justice! (otherwise it would be huge because I’m really bad at writing small pieces of work!)

Anyway, hope you enjoy it!

PART 1

PART 2

PART 3

PART 4

PART 5

PART 6

[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

[thejokersenigma]

Joker x Oc/Reader You're Insane - Part 2

Hello guys,

So this will be my new fanfiction series I'll focus on once Deadly Voice is finished, but because I'm having a momentary lapse in imagination and ideas for Deadly Voice I thought I give this one a go for the moment as I still wanted to write.

Firstly - yes this I've changed the name - it use to be called That's You, but I didn't like that name (I'm not sure about this name either but we'll see)

Secondly - I am writing this as a Arkham Joker Fan fiction, but tbh, if you can imagine it working for any other Joker I won't take offense if you want to see it as a Jaredleto Joker or whatever other Joker you want (personally Arkham Joker is just my favourite)

Thirdly - Yes I have changed from third person to first person - I just naturally write in first person so I stopped fighting it - sorry if that's annoying, i'll keep it in first person from now on!

Fourthly - Yes I have put a name to the character in the first chapter - I will keep it, but feel free to turn it into a reader fan fiction in your own mind!

My writing is what you make it!

Anyway, I think that's it - hope you enjoy! :)

MASTERLIST

You're Insane MASTERLIST

 I was fed up.

I had been sat at my new desk all day working non-stop - not that the desk was new – in fact it looked to be the oldest and most worn out one in the entire room. This was not made any better by the fact the view was terrible – there was none - it was literally a pillar. A pillar.

If I wanted to see the rest of the room I had to crane my neck around the huge thing. This meant that I missed out on all the interesting things that actually took place around me – like the thugs brought in or the brawls that broke out amongst the criminals in the holding cells. I felt so left out from the rest of the things going on I even wished I could see the other officers arguing over whose case was whose or who had taken the last donut.

But no.

It was just me and the pillar.

Great.

I let out a long sigh in defeat.

I had honestly really hoped that I’d have been put on a case straight away – a foolish hope I now realised. The captain of GCPD had done exactly what every other male in the room had done when I had walked in. Tagged me by my gender and decided I would have to prove myself to some extraordinary standard that no man ever had to.

That meant I was not yet ‘good enough’ – despite my rigorous training and high grades to land this job in the first place – to be put on a case. Instead, I had been landed with all the paperwork that the older officers couldn’t be bothered to do.

So, whilst they were out roaming the streets and responding to calls, I was sat writing out all their reports they felt were too boring to waste their own time on. I couldn’t complain though. That would only set me even further away from getting a chance on a case – no one liked a whiner. Especially no a girl.

So, I had spent the entire day slowly whittling my way through the pile I had been given, writing up document, after document of petty crimes and inappropriate behaviour which only ever added up to a night or two in a cell.

I pulled the next blank report in front of me, shaking my right hand where it was cramping – and had been for the last two hours. I glanced back at my pile – at least I was now over 2/3rds of the way through, I observed thankfully. This would be the last for the day, I told myself.

I had hoped to get them all done before I left, but the evening was wearing on and I was already the last person in the main hall - most of the officers off on evening duty or already retired for the night. I peered around the large stone pillar and noted all the empty desks sat forlorn in the darkness, the only decent light in the room coming from the small lamp sat on the desk next to me, pouring a warm glow on my paperwork.

I had been debating staying late to finish the work, but I had overestimated my ability, my eyes dropping, my mind making mistakes, and my handwriting becoming messier as the muscles in my hand protested.

My plan was simple for this place was simple - complete all the menial tasks I was given as quickly and thoroughly as possible until they eventually ran out of things for me to do – then they would be forced to let me on a case.

I rubbed at my eyes, trying to fight back her heavy lids, God knew how long it would take though for my plan to work. I stretched my arms up over my head, feeling my joints click from the lack of movement. I glanced back down at the empty document in front of me, waiting to be filled, and let out a loud groan in defeat.

I dropped my arms back down, shuffling unenthusiastically through the papers on my desk for the sheet of notes complied for me to fill in the documents, pulling it into place to the side of me. I then turned back to the blank report and filled out the usual details - the report number, the date, the address, the officer that reported to the scene etc. Then I read the next box on the report.

NAME OF OFFENDER:

I yawned widely, turning to the notes on my left.

UNKNOWN

I frowned. Weird, I thought, maybe this was a new criminal that had refused to disclose their identity – maybe they were running his prints or researching into him.

I turned to the next box.

ALIAS:

I glanced once again at my notes,

JOKER.

I could feel my eyes widen and my heart rate increase excitedly. The Joker. This was the case Harvey had refused for me to look at earlier. I couldn’t help but grin – finely something interesting - maybe paperwork wasn’t so bad after all – I might even enjoy filling this one in

I shifted in my seat, more awake now, and settled myself in to read the report as I copied the notes across.

TARGET: Gotham General Hospital

Why attack a hospital?

POINT OF ENTRY/EXIT:  Entry – Unknown              Exit – 2nd Floor Window

Jeez, I thought, he’d jumped from a 2nd story window? I kept reading, really intrigued now.

METHOD OF ATTACK: chemical/gas, Knife.

Chemicals? Gas? I had more questions than answers now.

NARRATIVE:

The Joker was reported to have been seen at Gotham General Hospital at 02:56. Upon police arrival all exits were blocked off and the hospital was stormed. Security reported blocking the assailant into the left wing of the hospital. Upon gaining access numerous staff members were found poisoned by the so-called ‘laughing gas’ or stabbed to death, others had wounds that may still prove fatal.

Upon my command, all rooms were searched by officers of the GCPD – no patients appeared to have been harmed by the attacker, but it was noted that a graffitied letter had been written above numerous beds (See attached picture).

I stopped my writing to dig through my notes once more. Sure enough, there – attached to the by a paper clip to the back of my notes - were several photographs, each of different rooms and each with a letter written above them in bright red paint that spelled TOLGELOWBEM.

I then noted a small black number in the right-hand corner of each of the photos that indicated the room number each picture was taken in. I immediately rearranged the photos in the order they would have been in, had you walked down the hospital corridor, soon realising it was spelling something out.

GET WELL BOOM

I was left with one last picture.

This one wasn’t of a patient’s room, but of a door whose lock had been busted open by something that had singed the wood around it. There was no letter this time either, instead - drawn with the same red paint – there was a large red smiling face, much like a emoticon or sticker you’d get from a teacher at school -  but this face had eyebrows drawn on, low and pointed, which gave it a menacing, almost bloody thirsty look.

I turned back to writing out the report,

The message led me to believe a blast was planned and I directed fellow officers to evacuate patients immediately.

Unfortunately, the explosion occurred only moments later, and – though the explosives were deemed to be small scale and destroyed only the medical supply closet and the room’s adjacent – we still lost Officer Raden and 2 patients. Others sustained reasonable injuries.

The Joker’s whereabouts were confirmed to me later when I approached a fellow officer amongst the patrol cars outside Gotham General, who informed me that witnesses had seen a man jumping from the 2nd floor before the explosion had occurred. By the time any officers reported to this area there were no traces of the criminal.

Later the patient’s rooms were searched again for evidence, however the only thing that was found was a playing card under the pillows in each bed. (see picture).

I flung my notes around again, looking for the missing picture. Finally, I saw it hidden beneath my finished pile of reports. I pulled it out. It was a picture of a playing card – the Joker card. Clearly, he left a calling card.

I placed the picture aside, and continued with the report.

STOLEN VEHICLE: N/A

RECOVERED BY: N/A

STOLEN PROPERTY: UNKNOWN

TOTAL STOLEN: UNKNOWN

TOTAL RECOVERD: N/A

TOTAL DAMAGED: PROCESSING

I finished off writing up the rest of the little nitty gritty boxes – though I felt like I was filling in UNKNOWN or N/A a lot – and finally signed it. I leant back in my rickety chair, staring at the finished document, my imagination whirling with the information, painting the scene in my own mind.

Damn, I wished I had been there. I had spent my whole life – particularly the last few years during my studying - just reading about these things. Now I was finally in the position to be a part of it and I was still held back, forced to sit here and write till my hand no longer functioned.

I scowled at my desk, now thoroughly fed up. I definitely needed to go to bed.

But at the same time, I knew now sleep would escape me, my mind too busy working on the case.

Why make the effort to write the message on the wall? I wondered. Why hint at what was about to happen? Why not just do what you came to do and get out of there before the police had come? The guy had wasted precious time by doodling on the walls and door – it was risky and unnecessary – so why?

And what had he actually been there for? The report gave no indication if anything had been stolen but there had been a few deaths – had he been there to murder someone? But if he had, why an explosion? Why not just slip into the room – like he had obviously been able to do – and kill them with the knife or this ‘laughing gas’ poison – whatever that was – instead of taking out a huge chunk of the hospital? He might have even been able to get away with that and be miles away before every knew. And why leave the playing card behind?

It was a weird crime. An odd crime. Nothing really made sense. I didn’t know if it was due to the lack of details or the just the crime itself.

I read through the report again. Every aspect seemed confusing to me, excessive, theatrical. It was like the crime alone was too boring for the guy, he had to make it more dramatic.

This man was definitely intriguing, I thought with a frown - nothing he did made any sense. I just wished I could know a bit more about him, but Harvey had been adamant about keeping the case file away from me.

Suddenly I sat up, glancing around the pillar and surveying the room again. No one in sight. I knew there was a chance some people were still in the building – the forensic team seemed to be the type to stay late - but the main hall that I – and Detective Bullock’s desk – sat in was empty.

I stood up abruptly, stretching again, letting a few more joints pop, before I gave the room another glance around, and then headed for my target across the room.

 It was a long shot that it would be there, but it wouldn’t hurt to check.

His desk was a mess. There was a cup of cold coffee sat at the top of the desk, next to which, sat an empty takeaway container which seemed to have been home to something rather greasy. I wrinkled my nose in disgust at the lingering scent coming from the polystyrene box, trying to focus my attention on the rest of the desk which was filled with papers stamped marked with coffee stains and completely out of order.

I wasn’t a neat freak, but this was ridiculous.

I carefully sifted through the papers, trying not to move them too much from their original position – though I doubted he’d notice – all the time searching for one key word – Joker.

I had no luck on the desk top, so I turned to the few drawers underneath, praying that Harvey was as lazy and cocky as he looked, and wouldn’t have bothered to lock them.

My suspicions were correct and the first draw I pulled at opened easily, revealing note pads hidden amongst a number of chocolate wrappers. No sign of the file.

I frowned, dropping down to the next drawer. This one was stiffer and I had to wriggle it a bit to work it open. Eventually it slid free and I dug around amongst a few scraps of paper and memos to finally find a pile of case files.

I lifted them out all out, flicking through them until, there - the fourth one in – was the ‘Joker’s’.

I grinned triumphantly, carefully replacing the rest of the pile back in the drawer and sliding it closed again, before I skipped quickly back to my desk – though the chance of anyone catching me was slim – her heart pounding from the risk I had took and the excitement of my find.

Safely seated back in my uncomfortable wooden chair, I unfolded the file on my desk.

The first thing that caught my attention was the lack of picture of the person in question. It surprised me for a moment, but it was possible that whatever photo they had was being used to hand out to people when questioning for his whereabouts.

I didn’t waste too much attention on this peculiarity, focusing instead on the rest of the file.

NAME: UNKNOWN          ALIAS: JOKER

GENDER: MALE                 HEIGHT: 6’5”                      WEIGHT: 192IBS

ADDRESS: UNKNOWN

PREVIOUS CONVICTION(S):  THEFT, ARMED ROBBERY, MURDER, ARSON, KIDNAPPING … –

He was a criminal – that was sure given his very extensive list of criminal acts – but why had Harvey been so insistent on not letting me see this information? As far as I could see, there was nothing that unusual about him – so what made him different to any other criminal? Or was Harvey going to act like this about every case? Did he just think I couldn’t handle the ‘big scary criminals’?

I read the file again, the information was vague and not very detailed – maybe people knew him enough about him it didn’t need to be written down?

The only odd thing I could see was that he had no name – did he really have no name? And – something that just caught my eye – he was an escapee from Arkham Asylum – the looney house just outside of the city.

That might explain the oddness of his most recent crime.

But how had a mad man managed to escape from the prison-like asylum? And surely a raving lunatic running around the streets of Gotham wasn’t difficult to find, right?

So why had he been free for – I glanced at the date of his escape – over 2 months!

Surely someone had seen him by now? Tracked him down?

I raised an eyebrow at the file in confusion - was I missing something?

I spent a few more moments reading over the case file and the report again, only becoming more frustrated with the increase of questions in my mind and the lack of information I had.

Eventually I gave up. I tidied up my desk ready for my return the following morning, dreading the pile of work that still remained on my desk. Finally, I reluctantly closed the Joker’s case file – after convincing myself there was no way I could get away with taking it home - and returned it silently to the drawer in Harvey’s desk.

I grabbed my stuff and headed out of the old building and back to my flat, my mind still filled with the enigma that was the ‘Joker’.

I was sure of one thing.

I wanted in on this case.

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

(so this is a newish fan fiction of mine and I wasn't sure if anyone was interested so I tagged my Deadly voice list - let me know if you don't want to be tagged in this one and I'll remove you from the future list!)

[thejokersenigma]

Joker x Reader - Deadly Voice Part 42

Hi guys, okay this one I wrote quite quickly and tbh nothing really happens in that is particularly exciting but I wanted to write this scene and its already 2000 words (probably because I describe things waaaayyy too much) so I'm going to cut it off here otherwise it would be a really long part.

So anyway, yeah, sorry it's not particularly exciting - the next one will have the Joker and probably be a bit more interesting!

Enjoy anyway! :)

As always let me know if you want to be tagged!

Masterlist

 I sat in silence as Frost drove us to the ‘safehouse’. I didn’t know where we were going and I couldn’t make anything out particularly through the windows - the night still too dark and the street lights only illuminating small patches of pavement and walls.

I stared, without really seeing, out of the windows, my mind elsewhere and my eyes slowly growing heavy – the fact it was still the early hours of the morning catching up on me.

I must have fallen asleep at some point because I suddenly snapped my head upright, opening my eyes to find Frost turning the car into a garage, am automatic light having sprung on and lit up the driveway.

“Where are we?” I asked, my voice croaky from lack of use, and I glanced around in an attempt to get any sense of bearings.

“The mansion.” Frost told me, “Boss thought this was the best place for you.” He parked the car and got out, hitting a light switch somewhere in the dark that caused a sudden eruption of harsh artificial light to fill the garage and temporarily blinding me. I blinked rapidly, waiting for my eyes to adjust. Finally, I could see we were in a huge garage that was filled with numerous other vehicles. I climbed out of the car, staring wide eyed at the collection before me. There were at least 4 other 4x4s, a couple of motor bikes and several very expensive-looking sports cars that were probably worth even more than the mansion itself.

Frost didn’t linger, leading me straight to a small, discrete door in front of us. I followed him down a short passage and up a small flight of stairs before we reached another door which Frost unlocked, and opened into yet more darkness. I followed blindly behind Frost as he strode out without hesitation, hitting another light switch on his left. The sudden light dazzled me again, but it didn’t take as long to recover this time and was soon able to look around at the new room, quickly realising we had just come out from a door positioned under the grand staircase I had seen the first time I had been in this house. The wall of knives I remembered was on my left, the hilts jutting out at odd angles from where the blades were embedded in the plaster, some obvious gouges out of the wall where a knife had clearly hit but not become stuck in the wall.

I continued on behind Frost as he led me around the stairs, revealing the familiar scene of the large entrance hall to the mansion, multiple doors leading off from the left, the stair case to the right and the front door directly in front of me. The walls were still as I remembered, riddled with bullet holes and decorated in graffiti. And he wanted me to stay here?

Frost didn’t stop, leading me across the marble floor and up the wide stair case. I was slightly out of breath when I reached the top but Frost didn’t let up, showing no outward sign of fatigue and continuing down a long hallway. He finally stopped outside a door at what I believed to be the back left of the house. He unlocked it with a small key he already had in his pocket pushing it open and standing back to let me in first.

I warily stepped into the room and was amazed by the sheer size of it. The walls were dark green with gold embellishments swirled in a chaotic pattern. Directly in front of me were two large glass doors framed by dark curtains, which appeared to lead onto a white stone balcony. To my right was a huge queen four-poster bed with a purple and gold bedspread that matched the dark purple curtains hanging from each bed post.

To my left were two doors which I quickly discovered were a large modern en-suite and a walk-in closet. It was - as I stood in the spacious closet (which was probably the same size as the room in my flat) that I suddenly remember I didn’t have any of my possessions.

“Frost!” I called from the doorway of the closet, turning to where he had stood silently, just inside the doorway, whilst I had explored, “I don’t have any of my things – don’t I need to go get them?”

He shook his head at me, “No. Everything will be provided here.” He told me. “Of course, I can send someone to get any odd possessions you feel you need.”

“But what about clothes?!” I exclaimed, “I don’t have anything but this!” I said, gesturing at my current outfit, which - now I looked at it – was a bit worse for wear. The knees of my trousers were scuffed and dirty from where I had knelt on the tarmac, my blouse twisted and missing a few buttons and quite grubby.

“Have you actually looked in there?” Frost asked, nodding at the closet behind me. I frowned in confusion. Of course I had. I went back into the closet which had a huge full length mirror at one end, a long pouf-like seat in the centre of the room and numerous wardrobes and drawers lining the walls either side. This times however, instead of just standing in awe, I opened one of the many ornate doors to the wardrobes. Inside was a large array of blouses and shirts in varying colours and styles. I stared at it for a few moments before I closed the door once again. Now I moved across choosing instead to open one of the drawers which I soon found out to be full of jeans.

I had a whole new wardrobe.

I practically ran around the whole room opening each drawer and closet door, finding all manners of clothing ranging from lingerie to dresses and jumpers to shoes and even some things I wasn’t sure what you were supposed to do with.

It was only when I reached the left side of the closet that something hit me. I was seeing suits, shirts, ties and men’s shoes. And - in particular - a very familiar looking coat.

This was the Joker’s wardrobe as well.

I froze where I was before I quickly closed the door to the wardrobe. “Frost?” I called, my voice shaking slightly with the sudden realisation.

“Yes?” He asked and I spun around in surprise at how close his voice was, realising he was now stood in the doorway.

“Who’s room is this?” I asked.

“Yours.” He replied simply.

“Who else’s?”

He hesitated, but clearly knew there was no use trying to hide it. “The Boss’s.” He admitted.

I didn’t say anything, letting it sink in. I was expected to not only live in his house, but also share his room?! Then it got worse. There was only one bed. I had to share a bed with him?!

I shook my head, “You’re kidding, right?” I practically begged. “There’s hundreds of rooms in this house! Why can’t I stay in one of those?!” I demanded

Frost shook his head, not looking over joyed at the situation either - or maybe it was the fact he now had to deal with a distraught woman. “They haven’t been used in years and haven’t been made up.” He explained, “We didn’t know anything about this until we were given the orders earlier this evening.”

“But he never stays here, right?!” I demanded, “That’s what you said before!” I knew I was clutching at straws now - anything to make this situation better.

Frost shrugged in response, “I don’t know. He never used to.” He said, though he didn’t sound convinced.

It was enough for me now – it provided a small bit of comfort.

“I imagine you’re tired,” Said Frost brusquely, “so I’ll leave you to it.” And with that he had turned and left me alone in the huge room, clearly not wanting to handle me and my questions anymore. I didn’t blame him – it had been a long night and, now he mentioned it, I could feel the tiredness starting to drag me down.

I turned back to my side of the room of the closet, returning once more to opening the drawers - this time searching for the one with pyjamas in them.

When I eventually found the correct one I pulled out a few pieces of clothing, holding them up to examine them in the light. “You’ve got to be kidding.” I breathed. They were the smallest, skimpiest thing I’d ever seen. “This is what they think constitutes pyjamas?” I asked myself, screwing it into a ball and dumping it on the floor. I dug deeper into the drawer but could find nothing but silky or satin pieces - none of which would even reach half-way down my thigh.

I sighed, giving up on finding anything more practical in the drawer. As much as I hoped the Joker wouldn’t come back here I wasn’t fooling myself there wasn’t a chance he could. I was also well aware that there was likely to be henchmen wandering the place - and I doubted Frost would give me the key to my door to lock myself in. I didn’t trust any of the other men as far as I could throw them - they were thugs after all. The last thing I wanted to do was to wear something so revealing – it made me feel even more vulnerable than I already was.

And so, I returned to the other drawers, rummaging through the rest of my side in search for anything comfy and loose that might serve as makeshift pyjamas.

Nothing.

All the trousers were tightly fitted, the tops and dresses all skin tight. I groaned at the cabinets, getting increasingly tired and fed up and wondering what to do now. I wasn’t going to sleep in my underwear – that definitely come under ‘too revealing’.

Then I remembered. The Joker’s side.

I moved over to his drawers, pulling them open quickly, trying to find what I was looking for but paranoid someone might walk into the room and catch me rummaging through the Boss’s stuff – or maybe even the Joker himself. “Come on, come on.” I muttered under my breath as I searched.

“Bingo!” I exclaimed quietly, pulling out and holding up my find. The trousers unfolded to reveal the Joker’s blue sweatpants with ARKHAM printed down the left leg.

I held them up to my body. Large and baggy. Perfect.

I slung them over one arm and continued my perusal through his cupboards, finding a rack of shirt and picking the softest one. I hurriedly changed into my improvised pyjamas, throwing my old clothes into a pile in the corner of the room. I head to the bathroom - not surprised when there was no lock on the door -  and washed some of the grime off my face and freshening myself up a bit with what was available.

Finally, I returned to the room and stared at the large bed.

It was so inviting.

But even as I stood there, dreaming of the comfy pillow only a few metres away from me, I still couldn’t get over the fact that the Joker could wander in at any moment - and I certainly didn’t want to end up sharing a bed with him!

But what else could I do? I thought as I stood in the middle of the large room staring at the bed.

Frost had said there was other rooms - they just hadn’t been made up – but I wasn’t in a position to quibble over whether something had a sheet on it or not. Just a sofa would do me right now.

So, I opened the bedroom door quietly, peering out onto the landing to see if anyone was around. The immediate area appeared empty so I stepped out, quietly shutting the door behind me, and I made my way along the corridor once more, waiting a while before I started trying doors.

Frost was right - it was like a large portion of the house just wasn’t used anymore. Some rooms were locked and those that did open were completely empty of all furniture. It took quite a few trys before I managed to find an open room with a bed and mattress.

I snuck in, closing the door silently behind me and fumbling for a light switch in the dark. When I finally found it, the small chandelier-like light bathed the room in a soft gold glow and illuminated the cobwebs caught amongst its brackets.

The room definitely hadn’t been used in a while, some of the furniture covered in white sheets, those exposed were coated in a thick layer of dust. There was no en-suite or a walk-in closet in this room, but the bed looked just as functional and still as inviting even without any bed sheets.

Before I succumbed to the bed however, I took one last precaution towards the inhabitants of the house and used my remaining strength to push the nearest piece of furniture - an old (luckily empty) chest of drawers - in front of the door. Hopefully I wouldn’t get any unwanted visitors overnight now.

I turned off the main light and stumbled my way to the bed, collapsing onto the bare mattress and momentarily wishing I’d thought to bring a blanket or something from the other room. Instead, I just pulled the Joker’s shirt tighter around my body, snuggling into the fabric and the soft bed - soon fast asleep.

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

[thejokersenigma]

Joker x Reader - Deadly Voice Part 41

Hi guys, next part is about ready, I've been messing around with it a bit, but decided this one is probably better off shorter than normal. The start is a bit rough (I just couldn't figure out how to write it) but it gets a bit better after that!

Anyway - hope you enjoy and thank you for you continual support!

As always - if you want to be tagged in the future let me know.

Also if anyone wants me to try requests I am happy to have a go! Be it imagines, one parts or multi part fan fics! :)

Masterlist

 There were a couple of reasons my head ached in that moment – one, the lingering effect of whatever knockout drugs had been given to me, and two, the snap decision I had made to work with Bobby and get her back in my head.

I was regretting that now.

A weird sensation had overcome me when I shoved into her – like someone had poured a bucket of cold water over me – and then there had been the intense feeling of my head ripping open, though I felt no pain. Now I was still crouched at the back of the 4x4 in a cold sweat and shivering as I stared at the dead body lying in front of me.

Had Bobby done that in the transition? I had been attempting to do it myself, but I couldn’t seem to ready the gun in my panic - that’s what had finally decided for me to work with Bobby – to save my life.

I had expected chaos to ensue at the gun shot - for the other guards to start yelling, running at me or firing their own weapons -  but it was completely silent, no movement apparent out of the corner of my eyes as I stared at the body.

I could see the perfectly round hole in his skull and watched the blood that trickled down the side of his face, pooling somewhere in the dark on the tarmac.

I swallowed dryly, did Bobby really make me do that? At least she was gone now, safely back in my head. I’d done it for my best interest really – at least that’s what I had told myself. At the time, I needed to be able to do something about the henchman coming at me, now I felt like I would need the confidence and strengths of Bobby to deal with the Joker. And, if what she said was true, I would feel far more in control of what I was doing this time – not just when I got angry – I just needed to embrace it properly. However, judging by the corpse in front of me, I wasn’t sure if she’d been telling the truth.

But yet, the bullet hole -  still oozing a dark blood that glinted in areas thanks to small patch of light in front of me -  was in the back of his head. How could I have shot him in the back of his head – unless somehow the bullet had gone completely through his skull.

But had I even been aiming at his head?

Just then, a cold cackle broke the alley’s silence.

I knew that laugh, it made my heart drop and my body tense. And it was coming from directly in front of me.

I snapped my head, and - sure enough - the Joker was stepping into the patch of light in front of the 4x4, his eyes on me.

“You should see yourself doll…” He purred lowly, “Like a deer caught in the headlights!” I saw his eyes drop to my hands where I still cradled the assault rifle, the safety still off and barrel still pointed in his direction.

A grin spread across his face, knowing and humoured by my actions. “Ah, I see you’ve come prepared... But, ya’ know kitten, it’s rude to take what’s not yours.” He told me and suddenly my weapon was seized from behind me and yanked roughly out of my hands causing me to fall over onto my hands and knees on the road, the gravel biting into my palms.

I had been too busy worrying about the Joker in front of me I hadn’t clocked the two-hulking henchman that had appeared behind me. A glance back over my shoulder now showed the vague outlines of the two large men, one of them fiddling with my gun and expertly removing the loaded magazine. Damn.

"That’s a bit better.” Said the Joker pleasantly and I snapped my head back round to see him swaggering his way toward me, the light from the headlamps only exaggerating the dark shadows around his eyes and his sharp jaw line. “Don’t want anyone to get hurt now do we?” He asked as he moved to the edge of the lit area, his face falling into shadow but I could still see his hand beckoning me to him.

I hesitated too long and was harshly yanked to my feet by one of the henchmen behind me. I pulled away angrily from the man’s grip, shooting a death glare into the darkness behind me where I could just make out the facial features of a large brutish man.

I returned my gaze to the Joker who had remained where he was. Waiting. I walked slowly towards him, not giving him the satisfaction of thinking he scared me - though my heart racing under my skin gave it away.

I stepped into the pool of light with him and I noticed what the simple white shirt he wore was only done up at the last few buttons, exposing his toned chest and the gold chains that draped his neck. I was also acutely aware of the gun holsters that hung over his shoulders. “[Y/N],” The Joker greeted, and I returned my gaze to his eyes, “As beautiful as always.” He grinned slyly at me and I eyed him suspiciously, knowing I probably looked at state and nowhere close to my usual standard, let alone beautiful.

“Joker, as charming as ever I see.” I retorted, much to my shock.

Joker beamed at me in delight however, his metal teeth catching the yellow light. “Maybe we ought to drug you more often, doll.” He said, “You seem far more…” He searched for the word, “Amiable.”

Whilst I couldn’t deny that my head still felt particularly uncomfortable and groggy, I was afraid that in my right mind I probably still would have said that. This new-found confidence was scary, but thrilling -  just like being around the Joker.

“What do you want?” I asked out right with a frown, not willing to play his little games.

"I love it when you sweet talk me, baby.” He grinned devilishly, leaning in towards me, trying to make me uncomfortable with the lack of personal space. I remained unfazed, now quite use to his little quirks, and continued to scowl at him. His smile dropped, “Fine, kill the fun.”  He said, waving a hand in dismissal and straightening himself back upright again. “I have a proposition for you, Doll.” He finally declared.

I immediately didn’t like the sound of this and the Joker must have noticed because he wagged his finger warningly at me, “Ahh Ahh Doll. Hear me out – you’re gonna love this.”

I couldn’t help but be a little intrigued and I crossed my arms over my chest, waiting for him to continue. He raised his invisible eyebrows at my attempt to seem blasé and unconcerned, but let it pass. “You, doll, are going to come with me and stay in one of my safehouses for…” He rolled his neck, his eyes searching the darkness as he thought it through, “Let’s say a week.” He decided.

I frowned at him in confusion at this ridiculous suggestion, “Why on Earth would I do that?” I demanded, the weirdness of the request cracking my uncaring façade.

“I told you, Doll…” He drawled, taking a step forward and reaching out with one hand towards my face, and I instinctively flinched back, even though he paused halfway. “… I need to see you smile.” He purred, smiling his metal grin at the word and twisting the wrist of his outstretched hand, his fingers closing one by one into a fist. He paused a moment, his eyes lingering on my lips before he snapped his gaze back to mine. “So we’re going to have a little game.” He purred, pulling his hand back, “A week to get you to smile – or laugh – I’ll take either.” He grinned menacingly.

“You’re making me want to laugh at the very idea.” I told him, teasing but not breaking out of my serious expression.

He looked almost shocked at what I had said, “Don’t toy with me doll, if I didn’t know better I’d think you were trying to be funny.”

I shrugged, slightly amused by his stunned expression. “So, what happens if you don’t make me smile within a week?” I asked.

“Well here’s the real fun, doll.” He said, his smile returning, “We’re going to place a little bet. If I can’t make you smile by the end of a week then I’ll give you what you want. I’ll leave you alone for good.” I was shocked. Was the Joker actually offering me a way out of this silly charade we’d been playing – a way to get away from him forever without having to resort to previous extremes? And all I had to do was to survive one week with him and not smile? That surely wasn’t hard to do. His humour wasn’t particularly in my taste and a lot of the things he did would make most people scream or break down, not smile.

I frowned, not convinced on how sincere he was being – what was the catch? “What happens if you win?” I asked, “If you did manage to make me smile?”

He grinned widely at me, “The one thing that I want.”

And what’s that?” I asked, almost afraid to know.

“Well, we’ll just see wont we?” He told me with a wide grin

I didn’t like the sound of that. Who knew what he wanted from me.

But if I said no – if I thought the risk was too high - what would happen then? Would he just let me go here and now and we return to normal? Or was there no actual option here – was it more of a demand that this was happening whether I wanted it to or not? It wasn’t like I could do anything – I was stood maybe 2-3 foot away from the Joker himself and I knew that lurking in the shadows was at least 5 henchmen - if not more. So, did I really have a choice?

But if I did agree, could I guarantee that I wouldn’t smile for a whole week with him? I would have thought it was easy to not smile around him. And surely, being a busy crime lord, he wouldn’t be around that much anyway? He definitely wouldn’t want a pathetic girl hanging off his shoulder all day, every day, so would I just be alone most of the time anyway?

All the time I considered this the Joker watched me intently - maybe trying to predict my response - though he must know that he had me stuck and there was really only one proper answer.

So, what’da’ya say, doll?” He asked, leaning toward me again, “I’ll give you good odds!” He grinned innocently.

I scowled at him before finally admitting what I knew I’d have to say all along. “Fine.”

A roguish smile spread across his face before it widened to a grin. “Wonderful.” He purred, “Frosty will escort you to your new home.”

“Where are you going?” I asked, once more surprised by my boldness.

The Joker also seemed surprised at the question, already heading back into the darkness of the alley and pausing with his back to me. I panicked, worried I’d gone too far and he’d turn around with a gun or a knife.

Instead he turned his head back over his shoulder at me, “I have a few more bits of business to clear up.” He told me darkly, his eyes were dangerous but I knew it wasn’t aimed at me, none the less I felt myself shiver. With that he had turned back and strode off into the blackness, out of sight.

There would be a few more bodies in the morgue tomorrow – I could guarantee it.

Suddenly I felt a hand land on my shoulder and I jumped, spinning to face my assailant only to see Frost stood behind me, slightly taken aback by my reaction.

“Sorry, [Y/N].” Frost apologised quickly, holding his hands up in surrender, “The cars over here.” He told me, gesturing behind him with the thumb of his right hand. I followed him in silence, trying to let the new situation sink in.

We reached the car – another 4x4 – and Frost opened the passenger door for me. I hesitated before sliding in, “Frost, can I ask…” I started, lifting my gaze to his face as I folded myself into the car. He nodded, “What have I got myself into?”

Frost paused, “I honestly don’t know, [Y/N].” he admitted before closing the car door on me with a thud.

Tags: @viraldragonrider @6fish6 @theartistdetective @carouselcurls

[thejokersenigma]

Deadly Voice Masterlist (COMPLETE)

Summary: The Reader is employed by the Joker as a singer and has just destroyed one of his clubs. She now seeks shelter from the consequences only to start working for another major criminal - the Penguin. The Joker isn't far behind however and has a way of turning up wherever the Reader is, those he no longer seems intent on killing her...

(Sorry im really bad at summaries - especially as I don't even know where I'm going with this story!)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14

Part 15

Part 16

Part 17

Part 18

Part 19

Part 20

Part 21

Part 22

Part 23

Part 24

Part 25

Part 26

Part 27

Part 28

Part 29

Part 30

Part 31

Part 32

Part 33

Part 34

Part 35

Part 36

Part 37

Part 38

Part 39

Part 40

Part 41

Part 42

Part 43

Part 44

Part 45

Part 46

Part 47

Part 48

Part 49

Part 50

Christmas Edition - Epilogue Type Thing

Let me know if anything doesn't work! :D

[thejokersenigma]

Joker x Reader - Deadly  Voice Part 40

Wow. 40 parts. I didn’t even mean to make it 20 parts long…. Opps.

Well here’s the next bit, I’ve played around with how this was going to work a bit so I apologise if there is a few mistakes or some things that don’t make sense - I probably missed it when I was editing.

Good news though - I think I’ve finally figured out how to end the series so there will probably be about 2-3 more parts….maybe. I don’t know, I always say that and then make it twice as long, but we’ll see, I’m going to try to start winding it down now!

Thank you to everyone one who still reads my work! :D

Masterlist

When I woke up I was calm. For a moment at least.

And then consciousness began to flood back to me, bringing with it my memories. I snapped my eyes open in alarm at my sudden recollection of everything and panicked even more when I came face to face with a wall of darkness.

Where ever I was, it was pitch black.

I almost jumped when a masculine voice sounded behind me and I could feel my heart racing in my chest.

“-bloody stuck here! Babysitting!” It cried in annoyance, “You had to go and hit her with both, didn’t you?” Clearly addressing another person, “Couldn’t have fuckin’ chosen one like you were supposed to?!”

Sure enough, another voice came out of the dark, this one closer, as though the man was directly behind my head. “I panicked!” It defended, “Frickin’ Johnny messed me up and then she wouldn’t stop bloody moaning and holding her head!”

They were talking about me. About what had knocked me out. I listened in carefully, trying to gain any bits of information from that might explain what had happened and what was going to happen now.

“You’re so dead, mate.” Muttered the first voice with a slight dark chuckle.

“Don’t you fuckin’ joke about something like that, man!” Cried the other man indignantly.

“Who said I was joking? You’re the bloody idiot that hit her with two loads of knockout drugs.” Pointed out the first man, “When boss man finds about all of this shit you ain’t gonna live to see tomorrow, mate.”

“But she’s just a bloody girl - ”

“Harv.” The other man interrupted him, “Give it up, man. If she was ‘just a girl’ he wouldn’t go through this shit to get her.” There was a lull in the conversation, ‘Harv’ possibly thinking through his actions and how he could justify it to the ‘boss’. “Face it man. Get your affairs in order now.” The other guy told him, now seeming to take pity on the other guy.

“She’s just a fuckin’ girl, Stu!” Harv protested desperately, not accepting his sealed fate, “And she’s fine!”

“You think.” Pointed out ‘Stu’, “She’s been out for far too long and – dude - you could have killed her with that shit load of knockouts.”

“If anyone should get the blame it’s fuckin’ Johnny!” Harv insisted heatedly, “I had two options – drink or cloth. I was supposed to make the bloody call! But Frosty went ahead and made the frickin’ drink anyway before I was ready!” Harv exclaimed.

“So why the hell did you give her the cloth as well?!”

“Because she then bloody went and collapsed into her own hands, groaning in pain! Then, of course I had fuckin’ Frosty signing at me across the room to do something! I did the first thing that came to me and…” The silence indicated him miming something to Stu.

“Mate…” Stu groaned in exasperation at Harv.

“I didn’ know it was gonna bloody be like that!” Harv protested, “The batch must’ve been stronger this time or something!”

“You really think Boss is gonna care that your bloody drugs were a bit fuckin’ stronger than usual?” Demanded Stu, “Good luck even getting a bloody word in before there’s a bullet in your head.”

“Ah man Stu, I’m fucked.” Breathed Harv, finally seeming to accept his fate.

Stu murmured a confirmation and then they fell into silence, Harv probably trying to find a way out of the early grave he’d dug for himself.

I had listened to every word they had said and a few things had fallen into place in my mind

I had been knocked out by this man ‘Harv’ with both a spiked drink and a cloth of some sort of knock out agent – probably chloroform or similar. ‘Harv’ seemed to have been working with Frost which probably meant I had been knocked out by the Joker for some reason and the men behind me were henchmen of his.

My main question was: why?

I didn’t think I was going to get an answer very quickly, especially not stuck here in the dark – wherever here was.

The silence persisted and I didn’t want to waste the time I had so I tried to see what I could gather from the little area that was available to me. I slowly moved my hands over whatever I was lying on. Leather. Odd.

My eyes had now adjusted somewhat to the dark around me and I could make out the outline of the edge of what I was on above me. It seemed to be some sort of sofa or chair. I glanced down at my feet, attempting to move as little as possible to avoid the notice of the men behind me. There was a window about a foot or 2 above my legs. It suddenly became clear to me.

I was in a car.

I cautiously returned my head to its original position and it was now obvious to me that I was lying along the back seat of a car and the blackness in front of me was back of the leather passenger seat. That meant that the men I had heard talking were sat in the front seats of the car, directly behind me.

There was, however, no sound of an engine or any vibrations coming up through the chair so we must be parked up somewhere. Why? Were we waiting for something?

And what did I do now with this information?

I considered my options for escape. If I tried anything I highly doubted I would be able to overwhelm the two men in the car with me and - even if I did - I couldn’t be sure that there was no one waiting outside of the car. I also had no idea where I was to even try to run for safety – I didn’t want to end up lost or cornered with the Joker’s entire mob hunting me down.

I had to face the fact that I didn’t really have any plausible options of escape yet. I would have to wait here and hope for something to happen that might provide me with a chance to do something more than pretend to be unconscious. So instead I focused on remaining as still as possible and trying to keep my breathing even and slow, as if I was still sleeping.

I don’t know how long I lay there waiting for something to happen but all of a sudden interior of the car was lit with a yellow glow, beams of light moving across the small section of the car roof I could see above me.

“Looks like that’s them.” Came Stu’s voice and Harv grunted in acknowledgement. I could hear a car engine approaching and the light brightened as the engine growl got louder. Then we were plunged into darkness again but the noise continued, indicating the car had passed us. Suddenly the seat beneath me vibrated and our car choked into a loud roar of life before it settled into a low rumble, the seat beneath me slightly bouncing.

I could feel my heart racing again, were we following them? Were we going to a new location? Where were we going? What would happen then?

However, instead of the car moving forward like I had planned, I heard both of the men behind me click open their doors before they were then closed with a soft thud.

I braced myself - waiting for them to open one of the doors to get me - but nothing happened.

After waiting a few minutes with still no sound of anyone near the car I decided I was probably safe enough to warily push myself upright a bit. When I lifted my head felt like it was stuffed with cottonwool, the grogginess from the drugs not having completely gone. I squinted as I pushed myself up a bit further, my head still aching dully, but I tried to ignore it.

I tried to stay low, partially so I could drop to my original pose should anyone suddenly appear, and partially due to my weak muscles in case they no longer felt able to support me.

I shuffled to the window by my head, breathing out an sigh of relief when I recognised that the window glass was tinted and a quick glance at the rest of the windows also proved this. Thank god – no one would be able to see me moving about in here.

I returned my attention to the window in front of me, now pulling myself up so I sat completely up, partially collapsed against the back of the seat and the car door. My whole body still felt numb apart from my head that pounded at my forehead. I peered through the window, anxiously scanning the visible area. It was pitch black outside most of the car, the surroundings only dimly lit by the headlights of the car which had come on when the men had started the engine. From what I could gather with the use of the poor lighting, I was facing some sort of brick or concrete wall.

I frowned. That wasn’t particularly helpful.

I slid my way to the window on the right hand-side of the car, repeating my action. I quickly ducked when I noticed a group of about four men standing together a few metres away, illuminated by the light from the headlamps.

Folded down onto the back seat and hidden behind the bulk of the car door I let my heart rate calm slightly, before I remembered they couldn’t see into the car and I chided myself for my stupidity before rising once more to the window.

I took my time now. Glancing to my left the headlights illuminated the men and further on the tarmacked road disappeared into the darkness, no noticeable road markings apparent to me. Were we on a minor road?

In front of me the weaker outer rays of the headlights caught another wall opposite. Were we in an alley?

I glanced to the right before realising my view was limited and I shuffled along the back seat to look out the rear window. At least 100 metres away was a rectangle of light. I could just make out the outline of the pavement and a building directly opposite. That must be the road.

So, we must be down one of Gotham city’s many alleyways.

If I could make it to the main road out there I could probably find a place to hide or evade the men.

My problem however was the fact I was still stuck in the car.

I glanced back to the men that still stood chatting, their breath catching the limited light as it rose around in the chilly darkness. They didn’t look heavily armed, but they all must have at least a gun and/or knife with them and I was sure they wouldn’t hesitate to shoot me if I made a runner.

That was if my door was even unlocked in the first place, I thought, glancing down at where I knew the handle was hidden in the dark, the light not quite reaching back behind the front seats.

So what did I do? Just sit here, hoping that a chance presented itself for me to escape? Or try and get out somehow without them hearing me?

I glanced around the car, hoping to find something I could use to help me. The car interior looked expensive and from what I could gather it looked to be one of the many large 4x4 vehicles the henchmen often used. I checked the checked the pockets attached to the back of the front seats. Empty. I dug around in the compartments in each of the passenger doors. Nothing.

“Morning.” Came a feminine voice suddenly from the front of the car and I felt my heart skip a beat as I jumped at the noise, “Jeez!” I gasped, my hands gripping the leather seats as I stared directly at Bobby who now sat, looking very relaxed, in the driver’s seat.

“Sorry hun – again.” Said Bobby with an apologetic smile. I stared at her with wide eyes - after all I’d been through tonight, she was still here?! She was in her usual attire of a dark pink skirt, black shirt and netted fingerless gloves, her glasses perched on the end of her nose.

“What do you want?!” I hissed at her, before chastising myself for talking to a figment of my imagination.

“Well I figure,” She said waving her hand around the car as an explanation, “You could use some help.”

“Oh yeah?” I retorted quietly, trying to keep my voice to a whisper – I didn’t know how sound proof the car was. “And you think you can?”

“Uh-huh.” She nodded, pushing her glasses back into placed. “Check  –“

“No.” I snapped, cutting her off “You’re just a very vivid thought process – you can’t possibly know anything I don’t! So, you can’t be any help!”

She fell silent but she looked at me with pity. I scowled at her before turning back to my previous search, ignoring her.

I push myself to my feet, ignoring the light-headedness that washed over me, and stepped toward the centre of the car, trying to reach the front seats where I prayed there might be something useful. However, as I lifted my back foot I caught it on something and I flailed helplessly before I fell into the foot well. I cursed myself and my now bruised knee.

I kept my red face directly away from Bobby – who I was glad to hear, remained silent - and instead looked to see what I could possibly have tripped over. I groped blindly under the chair for the obstacle before I settled on some sort of metal or plastic which I pulled at. After a few tugs it came free and I looked at it in shock.

An assault rifle.

“For the henchmen in emergencies.” Bobby explained over the top of the seat, clearly already aware of their existence. I scowled down at the weapon before shooting a glare up at her from where she peered at me.

“And how the hell did you know this was here?!” I demanded.

“I may ‘just be you’,” She quoted back at me, “But I’m a very distinct part of you – a part that thinks of things like hidden weapons in the bad guys cars and the part that might hear things subconsciously that you never really tune into!” She said cheerfully, obviously proud of herself.

I glared at her again before returning my attention back to the gun in my hand. I had never properly trained with an assault rifle before, but I had the basic idea of how to use it. I glanced around again - if there was a gun there was bound to be ammo somewhere.

“Compartment under the foot mat.” Chimed in Bobby. I paused, not wanting to take her advice, but I couldn’t let my pride delay my escape so I looked anyway. Sure enough, in a box in the floor of the foot well lay at least 10 magazines. I grabbed one, smoothly clipping it into place and ensuring the gun was on safety for now - I didn’t want to shoot them if I didn’t have to. “You sure?” Came Bobby’s voice with a knowing smile and I shot another glare back up to her.

“Get outta my head!” I snarled quietly. She simply giggled at my impossible demand.

I turned my gaze away from her, now focusing on what I had to do. I eyed the left car door which had looked out to the brick wall. That was my best bet, then I had the cover of the car to hide behind straight away and if I opened the door quietly enough the engine noise should hopefully hide the sound.

I took a deep breath, preparing myself.

“Wait!”

“What?!” I snapped rounding on Bobby.

“I can help.” She suggested.

“No.” I said, the idea ridiculous to me. I couldn’t trust her, not based on her past record where she’d already made me threatened, stab and shoot people, let alone flirting with the Joker. She was a loose cannon and what was worse, there was times when I enjoyed it. No, I couldn’t let her free again, she might hurt more people or become too reckless and get me killed. I had no control. “Definitely not.” I confirmed sternly.

“[Y/N] listen to me! Your treating me like I’m another person - a stranger. I’m not. I’m you. I’m a part of you whether you like it or not!” She cried, her usually chilled, cheerful self disappearing, instead she had a fiery passion. I sat in a stunned silence and she made the most of this, “Now,” She said, giving me a small smile and returning to her calmness - glad I was now listening, “we can either work against each other, you fighting and supressing me until you’re too tired to do it anymore and I break free for a few hours. OR you can finally accept me and we can work together – both of us in control, no more fighting.” She reasoned.

I turned away from her, staring at the darkness that engulfed the floor, running through what she had said. Finally, I glanced up at her and she looked hopeful at me. I took a deep breath but then abruptly turned and opened the car door.

I breathed a sigh of relief when it unlocked and I pushed it open, slipping out so I crouched down to the tarmac. I could hear the men now, all talking animatedly with each other, none of them seeming to have heard the door open. I cast a last look back into the blackness of the car but Bobby was gone. It didn’t reassure me.

I pushed the door shut, trying to keep it controlled and quiet, but I made a fatal mistake in releasing the door too soon and it closed with a thud.

I froze the moment I realised my mistake. Shit.

The men immediately fell silent. “Did you guys hear that?” Came Stu’s voice

“Sounded like the car.”

“Couldn’t be. Probably just a cat in a dumpster or something.”

“Yeah you get noises like that all the time down these alleys.”

“I think I saw something move.” Said Harv

“Probably just a rat” Dismissed another guy.

“Yeah, you’re probably jumpy because you’re a goner.” Said Stu suggestively, humour colouring his voice and the other two men burst in laughter, sharing in an inside joke.

“Whatever, I’m checking it out anyway.” Mutter back Harv, not appreciating the joke on his behalf, and I heard footsteps advancing towards the car and me. I panicked, retreating to the back of the car and fumbling with the rifle in my lap, my mind going blank.

Suddenly Bobby was crouched next to me leaning against the bumper between me and Harv. “Let me help!” She demanded. I ignored her, trying to focus on what I was doing with the weapon.

“You know what you need to do!” She told me, “Nothing I have ever done has made our lives worse! I’ve only ever made it better!” She persisted, whispering frantically in my ear as the footsteps got closer.

“I’m not the bad guy [Y/N]! He is!” She cried pointing to around the edge of the car where Harv was advancing on us, “Let me help!” She insisted urgently.

 “Ergh!” I cried in frustration throwing my shoulder into her and I followed the momentum round so I crouched, gun pointing around the side of the 4x4 at the man advancing. The darkness hid my position and he moved without hesitation toward me.

I aimed, clicked off the safety and –

Gun fire went off and he fell forward in front of me, bleeding out from a hole in the back of his head.

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