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cherrycocaineee · 5 months

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38. Joker - A Love Story For The Books

* Warning: powers/abilities, murder, torture, kind of follows the storyline of Harley Quinn. *

* Synopsis: Even with your telekinetic powers, you’ve always wanted to remain normal to the world and what better way to be normal than to become a psychiatrist like your older sister, Harleen Quinzel. What you didn’t expect was to ever sit in on one of her sessions with the Joker, and neither did Harleen who had done everything in her power to keep you and him away from each other for your own safety. With your new found infatuation with the criminal clown and his amusing interest in you, what could possibly go wrong? Or right, in your opinion. *

Harleen’s dull gray heels drummed against the cold concrete that the two of you were currently walking on. The sound of her heels were accompanied by her flipping through pages on her clipboard. It had been almost thirty minutes since your older sister had spoken a single word to you but you could hear the slow huffs of her breathing as she grumbled in frustration. Harleen wasn’t angry with you, no, in fact she was more worried about you than anything; instead, she was pissed off at her boss who assigned you to her side today knowing that she was working with the Joker. Even though Harleen was seething with frustration, worry, and anger, you were ecstatic. You were tired of the same old same old everyday and you swore if you had to listen to another person talk about something that lacked any real interest again, you might actually blow your own head up. Of course you understood that not every crazy case was going to be off the walls in terms of interest but because of Harleen’s persistent worry for you in this field of work, she’d made it her life’s mission to keep you with all the snooze fest patients.

You were so lost in your rambling thoughts you hadn’t noticed Harleen had stopped until you smacked right into her. A yelp left your dusty rose lips as you quickly drew your hand up to your nose that was now throbbing in pain.

“A warning next time would be great,” you grumbled.

“Sorry,” she replied shortly, “Now listen up, okay. Whatever he says in there, you can’t listen to him. He’s going to make up some sad story about his childhood, it’s fake so don’t fall for it.”

Your eyebrow arched up quizzically, “Then why do you let him tell you something if you know it’s false?”

“Because you learn more from the patients who lie.”

Harleen didn’t say another word before placing her keycard against the lock. There was a quiet chime before the red light switched to a green light, then the sound of metal scraping against metal abused your ears as the lock came undone. The noise was so loud, you almost flinched. When the noise subsided, Harleen pulled the door open and walked inside, leaving the door open so that you could go inside too.

On the inside of this cell it was like any other cell here; there was a single bed sitting in the corner of the room with a thin mattress that didn’t even have a sheet on it; a small, paper thin blanket for them to cover up with laid folded at the end of it as if it had never been used before; in the opposite corner was a desk attached to the wall with a singular, shitty chair for sitting at. Other than those things, the room was pretty bare but most of them were. Occasionally there would be a few patients who had wall art hanging up from their family members or from themselves but it was rare.

As Harleen made her way to the rickety chair in the corner to sit down at, you finished closing the door, waiting for the lock to click. Through the window there were two guards standing at their post which was protocol when a psychiatrist entered a room with any of the patients; they were all criminally insane and at any point in time they could do something to cause harm.

There wasn’t another chair for you to sit in, so you ended up standing beside Harleen. Your eyes had been so busy everywhere else you’d failed to see the Joker sitting at the edge of his bed completely swaddled in a straight jacket. His icy blue eyes pierced right through you causing you to swallow hard on the build up of saliva collecting in your mouth. Harleen’s pen clicking was what helped you to switch your gaze away from him but you could still feel him looking at you.

“Dr. Quinzel,” the Joker purred, “I’ve been looking forward to seeing you. And I see you’ve brought a lovely guest. What’s your name, doll?”

You didn’t get a chance to answer because your sister did for you.

“You’ll address her by Dr. Quinzel too, Joker,” Harleen stated promptly, not even looking up from her clipboard.

“Two Dr. Quinzels!” He hollered delightfully, “Aren’t I the lucky one?”

When Harleen didn’t reply to his outburst, you gave him a small smile.

“I’m her younger sister,” you added, “Y/N.”

“Y/N Quinzel,” he mulled over, a grin plastered on his painted lips, “I like the sound of that.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his compliment, at least that’s what you thought it was.

“That’s enough,” Harleen said, “it’s time to get started.”

You couldn’t blame Harleen for trying to stick to her questions, she had always wanted to be a psychiatrist and she took her work incredibly serious. You pulled out the copy of questions your sister gave you and readied yourself to follow along with the conversation. You didn’t need to write anything down, that was Harleen’s job, all you needed to do was listen in and learn. It was a practice run so that eventually you could start talking to patients by yourself.

“Now, Joker,” Harleen started, “why don’t we start where we left off.”

“Right,” he chuckled, “where did we leave off, Dr. Quinzel?”

Turns out they left off talking about the Joker’s father. Like Harleen had told you, the story was sad and in your opinion, it was overly sad. And he kept changing things, making it almost impossible for you to keep up with the conversation. What you did notice was the way his eyes watched you. You weren’t sure if you should say anything, your sister’s head buried in her papers where she couldn’t see anything. Maybe that was her way of keeping things professional, she didn’t stare at her patients too long or at all. The Joker didn’t seem to mind her not paying attention to him, his gaze was fixed on you and he had no intention of looking anywhere else for the entire session. It was weird to you because even though his eyes should have been making you squirm where you were standing, it wasn’t; in fact, they felt nice. There was no other way to describe it because it was nothing you’d experienced before. It was almost predatory like but there was a hint of possessiveness. Now there was no way you were paying attention to the actual reason you were here and judging by the smirk on his ruby stained lips, he knew it too.

Before you knew it, the session was over and Harleen was thanking the Joker for his time; something she did with all her patients. She was also the first to leave the room, leaving you behind which worked out perfectly for you. You stole another glance back at the Joker, his eyes still resting on you. You swallowed hard, turning on your heel to leave, the door closing behind you. It was odd, once the door closed and locked you found yourself missing his presence. Sighing heavily, you shook your head and ran after Harleen, grateful that you had worn converse instead of heels like she did.

For the next couple of weeks you joined Harleen in her sessions with the Joker; after about the fifth session, you’d been upgraded to a chair which worked for your aching feet. Harleen was gathering her belongings when the Joker decided to press his luck in having an actual conversation with you.

“How are you liking your chair?” He questioned, “I’ve noticed you swaying on the balls of your heels for the last couple of sessions. Couldn’t see you in any pain any longer so I asked one of the guards to bring you your own chair.”

You hadn’t noticed before but you had even started massaging your ankles trying to remove some of the swollenness, even now you were doing it even though you’d been sitting. Though sitting in this chair for a mere hour didn’t compare to the rest of the day when you were on your feet.

“Oh,” you said, meeting his eyes and pulling your hand away from your ankle, “thank you, that was very kind. It actually feels nice to get off of my feet for even just an hour.”

“That’s so good to hear.”

“Y/N.”

Harleen’s voice sliced through your conversation like a freshly sharpened knife causing you to flinch.

“It’s time to go.”

She was holding her notes against her chest, staring at you knowingly.

“Right!” You said, hopping out of your seat, “right. Let’s get moving then.”

Before you and Harleen had left the room, the head doctor, Dr. Louis, poked his head in. There were two guards accompanying him for his own protection; a lot of these psychotic criminals would enjoy getting their hands on him so he needed to be watched over constantly.

“Ah, I thought I’d find the two of you here. I just wanted to let you guys know that from now on Y/N will be taking the Joker as her patient. Harleen, you’ll be seeing after our newest patient.”

“What?” Harleen and I said at the same time.

It wasn’t in the same tone: Harleen’s was more disbelieving while yours was more exciting. You had started working here a year ago but had never been allowed to take on patients by yourself. You always accompanied another doctor with their patient which is why you were so damn bored with it. Unless you were a high level doctor like Harleen or Dr. Louis, you didn’t get to see the incredibly dangerous criminal patients that they harbored here at Arkham. It astonished you that Dr. Louis was trusting you with the most dangerous patient here. Of course it might have something to do with your telekinesis, you could easily apprehend the Joker with your mind if you wanted to.

“We have a new patient coming in, she’ll need a lot of your attention, Harleen. I’m sure with Y/N’s skills, she’ll be able to handle this clown with ease.”

You stole a glance at the Joker who was now laying back on his bed with an amused look on his face, unbothered by Dr. Louis’ choice of words.

“You hear me, Joker,” Dr. Louis added, “your new doctor will now be Y/N Quinzel, so get use to seeing her face.”

He grinned wickedly, “I look forward to a fresh, new, beautiful face.”

Dr. Louis left the cell with Harleen running after him in protest, leaving you alone with the Joker for the first time. You turned to the table where Harleen had thrown her things down at the sudden news. All of the papers were scattered now, some even littering the floor, making you huff.

“My,” the Joker chuckled, “she’s trying so hard to keep you away from me.”

“Don’t pay her any mind,” you said, kneeling down to pick up her discarded papers, “she’s just protective of her little sister, is all.”

He didn’t say anything and the silence between the two of you was peaceful. You finished gathering all of Harleen’s papers before standing up and turning to him.

“Guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” you state.

“Guess so,” he sang, still grinning from ear to ear.

For the first time since you’ve been sitting in on these sessions, you smiled back. The way you went about things was completely different from your sisters: whereas she was cold and distant, you felt that it made things easier to be friendly towards the patients, it helped them trust you just a bit more. Without another word, you gave a slight wave and left the room, listening as the doors locked behind you.

The next day you were over the moon since it was your first day being alone with the patient. The night before you stayed up planning every question you could possibly think to ask. You had to ignore Harleen’s countless calls because you knew she was only calling to warn you once again about the Joker’s routine antics. It felt like she didn’t think you could do this but it was ridiculous because you knew you were more prepared than anyone could be.

Pulling an all nighter was probably the worst thing you could have done, on top of the two large coffees that you had plus a third. All of that caffeine was making your heart beat fast but you ignored it, not wanting to be sent home or to the ER on your first day. Like usual, you entered the Joker’s cell, this time alone, and saw the shadow of two guards outside the door. The Joker was sitting in his bed in an upright position as if he had been waiting for you for hours, though you knew that wasn’t true.

“Good morning, Dr. Quinzel,” he greeted.

“Good morning, Joker,” you returned, “and please, just call me Y/N. I’m not really into formalities.”

“Then it’s only fair that you call me Mister J,” he smiled, “it’s what all my friends call me.”

You smiled. “Then let’s get started, Mister J.”

Your first therapy session with the Joker went as well as you expected, of course you didn’t think anything he said was the truth but it amazed you that he could come up with so many different ways to lie about his family life. You didn’t mind the lies, it kind of felt like a new story being read to you everyday which is what you wanted in the beginning.

As you were writing down what the Joker said, you noticed the Joker squirming around his spot.

“Everything okay?” You asked, folding your writing hand over your clipboard.

“Sitting like this for so long makes you kind of stiff,” he grumbled.

His discomfort seemed genuine and you hated it when people were uncomfortable.

“Is your…your jacket too tight?” You asked.

“A bit. But nothing I can’t handle, doll. Now where were we?”

You took a deep breath, thinking of probably the stupidest thing you’ve ever thought of. Only the guards had the keys to the most dangerous criminals white jackets but with your telekinesis you could easily undo it and give him a bit of freedom.

“I could help you.”

He brought his icy blue eyes up to meet your gaze.

“And how could you do that?” He questioned curiously.

“I could remove your jacket. Just until our session is over, then it’ll have to go back on.”

He didn’t seem to understand, everyone knew doctors didn’t carry keys to undo the jackets as well as they didn’t care if the patient was uncomfortable. The question for him was how were you planning to remove the jacket without a key and why would you do something like that?

“How?”

The Joker watched your eyes flutter shut before he realized that his white jacket was starting to undo itself. There was the soft clinking of the locks before they clattered to the floor, the fabric started to untangle itself too, giving the Joker some room to even just wiggle around. That left another question in his head: were you doing this with your mind?

Soon the entire jacket had been removed from his body leaving him shirtless; the jacket was now neatly folded and sitting beside him on his bed. For the first time in months, the Joker was able to move his arms. Standing to his feet, the Joker stretched his arms and popped his back. By then, you had opened your eyes again and were watching his every single move. Not because you didn’t trust him but because it fascinated you to see even someone like the Joker finding satisfaction in being able to stretch his arms out. You honestly didn’t think anything bothered him but clearly you were wrong.

“Feeling better?” You quizzed, pulling yourself up from your chair.

It had been awhile since you had used your telekinesis so it made you dizzy to stand up so fast. You swayed a bit on your feet before tumbling forward, only to be caught by the Joker with his newly free hands. It was the least he could do since you took his chains off.

“I feel fantastic, doll,” he hummed, grinning from ear to ear, “how are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling fine,” you muttered, steadying yourself on your feet, “I haven’t done that in awhile.”

“And what exactly was that that you did?”

“I used my telekinesis to remove your jacket. And later, I’ll use it again to put the jacket back on you.”

Finally you were able to stand on your own so you released the Joker’s broad arms, smiling a thank you to him.

“We have twenty-five minutes left until our session is over, so you have that long to get in as much exercise as you need. We can talk while you do so, it won’t bother me.”

So that’s what the Joker did. As the two of you spoke about his falsified childhood while he did whatever exercise he needed to do. When those twenty-five minutes were up, you quickly put on his jacket before the guards came to escort you out like they did at the end of every session.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Mister J.”

“See you tomorrow, Y/N.”

And that’s how it went for the next couple of months. You would sit with the Joker and discuss a new family situation, never really getting anywhere new, while he was able to freely roam around in his cell while working out his arms from all the knots that were in them. What you weren’t expecting was to fall in love with him. He was kind, sweet, and always asked how your day was going like he actually cared. You didn’t know if he truly did or not but the interest in his voice was much needed, especially lately.

“Oh, kitten,” the Joker purred, getting closer to you, “you seem in a foul mood today. Is everything okay?”

You tore your eyes away from your papers, there weren’t many questions today and it seemed like the questions list was dwindling more and more everyday.

“Uhm,” you cleared your throat, “I’m fine. There’s just a lot going on at home.”

Despite how hard you had been working, you never seemed to meet your parents’ expectations and their expectations were high considering they wanted you to be exactly like Harleen. And more frequently you’d been going over there with Harleen to have family dinners and somehow you never seemed to get the same praise you felt you deserved. Instead, your parents were always finding ways to critique your work, never seeming to understand that you had earned your patient’s trust rather than ignoring their basic needs as human beings. They had said on countless occasions that they wished you were more like your older sister, and you’d be lying if you didn’t say it hurt your self esteem a bit.

“No need to worry yourself about my home troubles, Mister J. Tell me-”

“Ah, ah,” he said, his fingers gripping your chin so you couldn’t look away, “I’m more interested in what you have to say. You can tell me.”

For some reason it really felt like you could tell him. So all of a sudden you found yourself crying out your complaints to the Joker as he consoled you; it was like he was the therapist and you were the criminal in need of some real mental help. And the way he soothed you made you fall in love with him more and more. He patted your back while you wiped away a few tears; you were grateful that you skipped wearing any makeup today even if you looked like you hadn’t slept in weeks. The Joker had his hooks in you and he knew it. By the next session, you’d be ready to give him anything he asked for and he knew just what he needed to make his escape.

The next session, you felt better than before and you had a little more pep in your step too. You were clenching your notepad in your arms as you sped off towards the Joker’s cell. You couldn’t help the feeling in your chest that made you excited to see him and honestly you hoped that he felt the same way. Today you brought him a present, something to brighten up his little area and hopefully make him smile some more. Once again you heard the slow, loud clicking of the metal locks before you pushed the door open. As routine, the door closed behind you and the guards stood outside ready for whatever. However, the inside of the room was just a bit different. There was a table now in the center of the room with two chairs sitting on either side of it. It was a new accessory that was a bit different then what you were use to. The Joker was already sitting patiently at one end of the table, a grin plastered over his painted lips.

“Dr. Quinzel,” he said, “my favorite part of the day.”

“We’ve been over this, Mister J,” you laughed, “just call me Y/N.”

That made his smile wider.

You took your seat across from him, your notepad finding its permanent spot in front of you on the table.

“I got you something,” you said happily.

“What have you got?” He purred.

“Got you a kitty.” You pulled out the stuffed cat and started playing with its little paws.

“So thoughtful.”

As usual, you used your telekinesis to undo his jacket giving him free range to move around. However, he didn’t get up and move around like usual, instead, he sat in front of you just eyeing your every move. You felt nervous under his gaze, a light blush sketching into your cheeks as you tried to look away. You finally built up the confidence to make eye contact with the Joker.

This therapy session wasn’t going anywhere near how they normally went. He was much more flirtatious than usual and you found yourself watching him with eyes filled with admiration, care, and love. You were so lost in his eyes and words that you didn’t realize how close the two of you had gotten, your face merely inches away from his own. You don’t know how it happened but you had fallen in love with him, and despite your brain telling you how stupid it was to be in love with him, your heart yearned for him. There was nothing you wouldn’t do for him and he knew it.

“Should we get started?” You asked, trying to put some space between the two of you.

“Actually Doctor,” the Joker hummed, “there’s something you can do for me.”

“Anything,” you said a bit too excitedly before correcting your tone, “I mean, yeah, of course.”

He shifted. “I need a machine gun.”

The request caught you off guard and your head was screaming at you to stop listening to him like your sister had told you to.

“A machine gun?”

A big, toothy grin stretched from ear to ear.

You knew you shouldn’t do it. That you should warn the guards about his plans. But the way he stared at you, you felt intoxicated and ignored every rational sense you had.

You just weren’t expecting what came next.

You had used your telekinesis to sneak the Joker a machine gun late in the evening, as well as distorting the cameras so you didn’t get caught. You figured he just needed the machine gun to escape, go back to his busy life causing chaos in Gotham. But he had other plans before he went back to his normal shenanigans.

Before you knew it, gunshots were flying through the halls of Arkham as people dressed in animal costumes. Guards were falling down as more and more bullets pierced their skin; you ran, trying to find some coverage while you repeatedly asked yourself what you had done. This wasn’t what you wanted, not even in the slightest. You tried to sneak away, but in the end you were snatched up by some guy in a suit and another guy in a costume. You screamed, thrashing yourself around trying to loosen their grip but they were too strong for you physically. You don’t know why it didn’t come to you, your mind running so fast that you completely overlooked your telekinesis.

The two men strapped you down to what you think was a gurney.

“Get off me!” You snapped through gritted teeth, trying with all your might to push them off.

But in the end, they got the best of you and were able to strap you down. It was only then did you remember your telekinesis, however, the Joker made an appearance distracting you entirely.

“What do we have here?” He grinned, waving his hands around.

He positioned the light above the gurney in front of your face causing you to squint momentarily.

“I did everything you said,” you rasped, “I helped you.”

The Joker just watched you for a second before laughing quietly, anger prominent in his voice as he spoke.

“You helped me by erasing my mind? What few…faded memories…I had left!”

With each word, he slammed his fist against the cushioned gurney. You’d have flinched if you hadn’t loved him so much. You watched him run a hand through his messy green hair.

“Oh. You left me in a black hole of rage and confusion. Is that the medicine you practice, Dr. Quinzel?” He snapped his purple glove.

You shook your head.

“What are you gonna do? You gonna kill me, Mister J?” You asked.

He reached beside you, taking hold of the equipment that some doctors used to erase patients memories of traumatic events in their life. You swallowed a lump in your throat.

“Oh, I’m not gonna kill ya,” he grinned, rotating the shock sticks beside your head, “I’m just gonna hurt ya. Really…really…bad.”

All of a sudden, the small amount of fear you felt in your body was gone. You no longer felt anything but a want to prove that you could handle what he dished out.

“You think so?” You asked, your body no longer shaking, “Well, I can take it.”

The Joker snapped his belt off and folded it in half making a snapping sound as he tightened it. Then he placed the leather material into your mouth making a barrier between your teeth.

“I wouldn’t want you to break those perfect, porcelain cap teeth when the juice hits your brain.”

Then all of a sudden you felt the electroshock surge through your head and you tensed up, your back arching off the gurney. Your telekinesis had a mind of its own while you were incapacitated; the leather straps holding you snapped themselves in half, a table was thrown against the wall, and the lights shattered. It all excited the Joker more and more, making him understandably curious about you but knowing that this was the end of the line for both of you. He’d always have you sketched into his brain and he knew he had left a permanent mark in yours. He just failed to realize that you wouldn’t give up on him just because he caused you a lot of pain.

You practically made it your mission to seek him out; you quit your job much to your families surprise, and you spent every waking day mumbling to yourself as you searched for the Joker. He wasn’t a hard man to track down and when you did manage to find him, he always seemed to need something that involved your telekinesis. You didn’t mind but you had hoped that all of your help would make him consider taking you in and making you his. But it never seemed to work out that way and you were finally getting frustrated, even desperate for him to acknowledge your love for him.

One night you were waiting on the side of the road outside his club, hoping he’d come out and see you. However, you were left disappointed again when you saw him in his purple Lamborghini, driving to God knows where not even sparing you a second glance. You had half a mind to flip it over, show him you aren’t someone to ignore but you didn’t want to hurt him, instead you stole someone’s motorcycle, using your powers to shatter the chain that was used to keep it from being stolen. The owner didn’t know he’d have to protect his bike from thieves with telekinetic powers. And who could blame him as these abilities weren’t common, even in Gotham.

You followed the Joker on the bike, speeding up so that you could catch up to him. Finally you were able to pull up beside him, looking his way in hopes he’d notice you. He did, of course, but his reaction wasn’t one that thrilled you. He pulled his hand up beside him as if trying to block you from his line of sight. Hurt and anger surged through your veins as you let out an irritated yell. You sped up, taking the lead in front of him. Little parts inside you could feel his annoyance creeping across your skin but you didn’t care. Once you were a good distance away, making sure by looking back, you turned the motorcycle on its side and let it scrap against the midnight black paint. Sparks flew and you were positive that the paint on the side was done for. When the bike came to a stop, you hoped off of the part you had been standing on and planted yourself firmly in front of it, any fear in your bones having been erased that day in Arkham.

To anyone looking at it, it looked like the Joker had no intention of stopping but instead had every intention of running you down in the road. However, with an annoyed grunt and a roll of his eyes, he came to a quick, jerky stop.

“You…”

“You’re not leaving me. You’re not leaving me!” You yelled, slamming your palms into the metal of his vehicle.

“You…you really are a pain in the ass.”

Just as the Joker exited his vehicle, an eighteen wheeler pulled up behind him.

“I have done everything you said. Every test, every trial, every initiation. I have proved I love you. Just accept it.” You pleaded, tears pricking the corner of your shining eyes.

He lifted his hands, “Got it, got it, got it, got it. I am not someone who is loved.”

He clapped his hands in front of your face.

“I’m an idea. A state of mind.”

The eighteen wheeler started honking while the Joker spoke. But it didn’t deter him.

“I execute my will according to my plan and you, doctor, are not part of my plan.”

He had done a complete circle around you and was now standing back in front of you, so you pulled your hands up to touch his face. His skin felt nice against your own, almost like they were made for each other and you wondered why he didn’t see that.

Once again, the eighteen wheeler honked this time more frequently.

“Let me in,” you pleaded, “just let me in. I promise I won’t hurt you!”

He had pulled himself away from you, laughing at your words just as the trucker exited the drivers seat of the eighteen wheeler.

“A promise, promise…ha…ha…ha…”

“Hey dickface!” The trucker yelled, “Mind screaming at your bitch somewhere else.”

The Joker continued to laugh, completely ignoring the trucker. Your mind moved on its own and soon the Joker’s personalized gun was removed from his leather jacket. It floated through the air before your mind pulled the trigger, shooting the asshole who was interrupting your conversation. His body fell to the ground with a thud.

“I was gonna say,” the Joker said, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

He had stolen a quick glance at the dead trucker before returning his gaze to you, this time the floating gun pointed directly at him. The cool metal barely grazed his deathly pale flesh. He rested his forehead against the barrel of the gun and raised his hands up playfully, grinning.

“Don’t hurt me,” he joked, “I’ll be your friend.”

You held your gaze, never tearing your eyes away from the gun letting it continue to float as your mind willed it to do. The Joker hummed, his voice deepening as his smile and joking behavior disappeared.

“Do it. Do it, do it, do it, do it, do it.”

“My heart scares you,” you gritted, “but a gun doesn’t?”

“Do it!”

But you couldn’t and he knew you couldn’t. So within a mere second, he snatched his gun out of the air and your mind stopped buzzing. A headache growing from the overuse of your ability. You were mentally exhausted and the Joker could only laugh, pushing his own gun against the side of his head.

“God, if you weren’t so crazy, I’d think you were insane.”

He was glaring at you now, his expression dark and uncalculating. A few tears slipped off of your face and dropped onto the ground as you stared at the man you told yourself you loved. Even now.

“Go. Away.” He said.

He left you standing there, getting back in his Lamborghini and driving off. You choked back a few sobs, using the back of your hand to wipe away your tears before walking in the opposite direction he had driven off in. What you didn’t see was the Joker watching you through his rear view mirror. Even though he kept trying to deny it, you were interesting and the more interesting he thought you were, the more captivated he felt by your presence. He knew you loved him but he wasn’t sure how he felt about you. He took his eyes off of you for a split second and when he tried to look at you again, you were gone. It was almost like you had never been there, at least that’s what he would have thought had the dead trucker not been laying in the road still.

Grumbling to himself and slamming his hands against the steering wheel, the Joker pulled a sharp u-turn, the tires screeching against the cement road. Hitting the gas pedal as hard as he could, the Joker sped off to find you, wondering why he couldn’t keep you out of his own thoughts.

He found you not too far away from where the two of you had conversed. You had your arms wrapped around your body as you walked, sulking harder with each step. Quickly, almost harshly, the Joker yanked his car in front of you causing you to stop walking. Your eyes widened as he climbed out of the driver's seat and made his way to the passenger’s seat. Quirking an eyebrow upwards, you watched as he opened the door and looked at you.

“Well,” he muttered when you didn’t move, “get in.”

It was a small gesture, even after your conversation with him just a second ago, but you still smiled hard and hopped into the passenger’s side. He closed the door behind you, got back in his own seat, and sped off, not telling you where the two of you were headed.

You weren’t expecting to be taken to a chemical plant. The words “Ace Chemicals'” faded into the building walls telling you this place had been out of use for some time. It smelled too and you had to hold your breath until you could stomach whatever that stench was.

The Joker watched you intently as your eyes wandered taking in everything it passed. He was fascinated by how curious your little head could be but he wasn’t going to tell you that.

Finally the two of you reached a room that was layered with nine vats of chemicals at the bottom. The Joker and you were standing on top of the black, metal that held you above the acid. The metal was slick with water from whatever but really it was as safe as could be. You followed the Joker to the edge before peering down at the vats of chemicals that covered the floor. They were bubbly and made weird hissing noises making you wonder if they were incredibly hot.

“Question,” the Joker started causing you to look away from the chemicals and up at him, “would you die for me?”

“Yes.”

You didn’t even hesitate with your answer.

“That’s too easy,” he muttered, “would you…would you live for me?”

The question meant something so different than his first. Life was cruel and there were so many things to hate about life, dying was easy because there was no suffering. So in a sense, he was asking you if you’d suffer for him. Which you would.

“Hmm?”

“Yes.”

“Careful,” he whispered, “do not say this oath thoughtlessly.”

He brought his tattooed hand up to your face, his fingers grazing your cheeks causing you to shiver. His touch had you so intoxicated that it felt like you were drunk from a whole day's worth of drinking.

“Desire becomes surrender, surrender becomes…power.”

His fingers traced over your face, slowly sliding down the sides of your cheeks barely gripping your chin until he rested his finger against your lips. His eyes flickered hungrily at your mouth and you desperately wanted to close the gap between the two of you.

“You want this?”

Again, you didn’t hesitate. “I do.”

He tilted his head back, keeping his hand on you.

“Say it,” he rasped, “say it. Say it. Pretty, pretty, pretty…”

His voice got softer until it faded and you felt your heart throb with both love and lust.

“Please,” you whimpered.

“God,” he chirped, “you’re so…good.”

He gestured to the edge of where you two were standing. You walked over to it and peered down at the vats of chemicals again. Your logic was screaming at you to change your mind but you couldn’t afford to listen to it. You were almost there, he was almost yours entirely. All you had to do was fall into the chemical and he’d have you. You turned to face the Joker, his eyes watching you intently. You extended your arms before falling backwards letting gravity carry you. The cool air felt nice against your skin as you plummeted; your eyes fluttered close as you thought about all of the things that you were about to experience. While most people would be terrified if they were in this current situation, you found peace with it.

The Joker peered over the edge and watched your body splash into the dangerous liquid. He had finally done it. He’d gotten rid of you. He turned on his heel and headed towards the exit. However he wasn’t able to make it past a few steps as he remembered all of the kind things you had done for him throughout his time of knowing you. Using your telekinesis, you had given him a small amount of freedom from the straight jacket he’d been chained up in for months. You didn’t snap at him or say anything to him out of anger like most the doctors did, you seemed to actually care for him. Even after he tricked you into giving him the machine gun and using the electroshock therapy on you, you still wanted him. And for some reason that filled the Joker with a sense of guilt that he didn’t even think he could feel. With a low growl, the Joker removed his leather jacket hurriedly and went back to the ledge where he jumped in after you.

He reached forward and took hold of your sinking body, pulling you tightly against his body. You fit perfectly against his muscular frame. The two of you floated back to the top, the Joker’s lips on yours filling your lungs with life. You let out a soft gasp as he pulled away, your eyes staring into his as you searched for a trick but you couldn’t find one. He leaned down again, your fingers finding their way to the back of his head, and the two of you kissed.

After only seconds, the Joker pulled away, keeping you wrapped in his arms, and started laughing. The color from your clothes mixing with his. You smiled, pulling yourself closer to him. He was yours, and you were his. Forever.

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samantha-rae-velcher · 1 year

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Pretty

Joker x Fem reader

Requested by: anon

Warnings: swearing, threats, violence, joker being joker.

A/n: if you don't like the warnings, please don't read

Request: Can I request a Leto!Joker where the reader is Harley’s younger sister (she is telekinetic) and she is a pyschiatrist and she secretly loves J. One day the reader is in one of J’s sessions with Harley but J keeps looking at the reader until J breaks out and does everything that he did to Harley to the reader. J and the reader go to Ace Chemicals to make their relationship offical (you can add the rest) thank u :)

___

Joker sat across from the sisters in a straitjacket. Y/n felt a chill roll down her spine every time he looked her way, but there was something about him that intrigued her. He was handsome, and there was something she saw in his eyes everytime they locked with hers, it wasn't crazy. He knew what he wanted, he knew what he was doing. No amount of therapy was gonna help him, he was perfectly sane. He just wasn't normal, he had a dark side and he chooses to live in his own shadows, behind the mask that is the Joker.

"So who is this?" He asked, nodding towards Y/n.

Harley looked over at her younger sister and smiled.

"Oh, this is my sister, Y/n. She's training to be a psychiatrist, so I thought it would be a great learning experience if she sat in on our session."

The Joker just nodded and kept staring, the session went on and Y/n didn't pay any attention. She at there sketching him on her note pad.

"I'm curious." She said. "Do you feel anger towards anyone here?"

Joker slowly looked over at her. Fuck this man was terrifying, she didn't know how Harley couldn't get up and bolt for the door.

"No."

"Okay, just asking." Y/n went back to sketching the man.

Over the next few weeks Harley and Y/n went back and forth with the sessions, they made a schedule on which one of them would be evaluating him on this day and that day. Harley began noticing changes between the two, y/n had even told him the secret that only the two of them knew about.

"I like your sister." Joker said. "She's innocent."

Harley looked up from her papers, she knew what this man could do to y/n, he could brainwash her and get her to do his bidding. Joker could play the "I was framed! Poor me!" Act to make her feel bad and let him out. Or worse she could fall in love with him.

"Yeah well, she's not coming here anymore."

"Why is that?" He asked.

"I don't want you using her. She's not who you think."

Harley got up to leave, she got to the door and stopped when she heard The joker speak.

"Telekinesis is a new one in Gotham. You think I'd use her to get to her ability?"

Harley felt rage as she flung the door open and stormed out of the room. She wanted a transfer, she was done with this psychotic clown.

Y/n entered Arkham and walked down the hall towards Jokers cell. She ducked behind a filing cabinet when she saw Harley come plowing by.

Y/n had one of the guards unlock his cell and let her in, Joker smiled and leaned against the wall.

"I thought your sister didn't want you near me?"

"Harley doesn't know I'm here."

They sat down, she didn't ask the normal questions. Instead, they had a real conversation.

"I need a machine gun." He said while leaning over the table.

"A machine gun?"

Joker smiled. "You can get it for me can't you?"

"But-"

The Joker stood and came to her side of the table. He gently touched her cheek and leaned in, whispering in her ear. This man made her feel scared, but she wanted more. She was addicted to this man and she didn't know why. Was this love?

"I need a machine gun, Y/n. Can you get it for me?"

"I...yes."

___

Y/n was in her office at Arkham when the gunshots could be heard, the screams rang through the hall as running feet fleeing for the exits came flying passed her door.

Two men busted it down and came at her, she struggled but they had her in a tight grip. The brought her into another room and slammed her down on a table. She felt them strap her down, the room when quiet all but the screams that could be heard outside.

"What do we have here?" Joker yelled.

He walked into the room, he was wearing nothing but pants, shoes, and rubber purple gloves. Joker came closer and aggressively lowered the lamp, blasting her in the eyes with the light.

"What the fuck!?" Y/n pulled at the straps. "I helped you!"

"You helped me?" He asked. "By erasing my mind? No you left me in a black hole of rage and confusion. You and your spiteful bitch sister."

Joker smiled and turned to the table beside him, he began rummaging through items.

"The sister who tried to keep you from me." He moved his head back and forth, cracking his neck. "like she could ever keep us apart."

He picked up two metal things attached to cords. Fear struck Y/n, she started pulling at the straps again, trying to get away.

"What are you planning?" She asked. "You gonna kill me?"

"No, I'm not gonna kill ya, Sweetheart. I'm just gonna hurt ya, really really bad."

"Yeah? You don't know me that well then. Cuz I can take it."

Joker smiled and took off his belt, the sound clanking of the metal going right to her core. He straighted it and had her bite it.

"This is gonna hurt, so I suggest you don't spit this out. We don't want you breaking your teeth now do we?"

J turned in the machine and pressed the metal devices to both sides of her head. Pain shot through her making her bite the belt so hard it hurt her jaw.

All she could hear was the screech if the machine, gun shots ringing through the halls and the joker laughing.

___

Y/n was looking down at the giant barrels of bubbling chemicals. Joker paced back and forth behind her, he gently gripped her hips and turned her to face him.

"Would you die for me?" He asked.

"I-"

"That's too easy....would you...would you live for me?"

Y/n looked him in the eyes as she answered, she wanted him to know she ment it.

"Yes."

"Careful, my dear." Joker circled her. "Don't say this oath thoughtlessly."

He leaned in close, their lips nearly touching.

"Desire becomes surrender, surrender becomes power." He gently places a kiss on her lips. He stayed close. "Are you ready to surrender to your fate? To me?"

She slowly backed up towards the edge, Y/n could see he didn't believe she's do it. He thought she was too weak. Y/n smile and blew him as kiss before letting herself fall over the edge.

Joker watched her sink into the green liquid. He turned and began slowly walking away before he stopped. Joker tilted his head side to side, cracking his neck before he pulled his leather jacket off and jumped over after her.

Y/n felt the air being forced back into her lungs as her eyes shot open, Joker was holding her close and looking at her with hunger in his eyes. He leaned in and closed the gap between them, the kiss was passionate. He pulled away slowly, he smiled and whispered.

"Pretty pretty pretty pretty."

THE END ❤️

I'm gonna make a part 2

#fyp #foryou #fanfic #foryoupage #x reader #requested #jared leto joker #jared leto #joker x fem reader #joker x oc #joker x y/n #joker x reader #joker suicide squad #suicide squad #suicide squad x reader #suicide squad joker

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itsragnary · 1 month

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the boy is mineeee :3

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starpunz · 13 days

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“Every second we waste is another second Aquaman gets to live.”

Utilizing the curse he was given from the sea to his advantage, he traded his eyes for the sake of having power to kill a god, Aquaman. His power, unbeknownst to everyone, dwells from the heating depths of the trenches under Atlantis, with his intellect, he was capable of figuring out the magic behind the process as mere science, knowing everything had a solution.

His corals are integrated into his skin as a cooling system for his lasers, his hair allowing adaptations in his skin to the environment, effectively camouflaging.

His fins are tailor made to withstand the pressure of the ocean currents pushing against him, his entire suit is a testimony to human adaption, all for hatred.

(A design for Suicide Squad: X, a dnd me and my friends are doing)

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duckyhowls · 9 months

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(Part 1/8) The Joker - "Our Cell"

WARNINGS: None THEMES: False Imprisonment, Innocent Cohabitation, Mafia/Gangster, Criminally Insane, Belated Love Epiphany, Protective Joker, Possessive Joker, and "Sunny vs Dark" Pairing. CHARACTERS: OC, Warden Jones, Officer Hans, The Joker, and Bruce Wayne (mentioned). SYPNOSIS: An innocent woman was in the wrong place at the wrong time and was framed for murder and thrown into Arkham. What makes it worse is that the asylum is experiencing an overflow of patients and Esme has to room with the Joker. How will an innocent girl survive in this place if she was stuck bunking with the most criminally insane guy around?

“Wait, no…” Esme began, staring right at the document on the old desk in front of her, her pale green eyes wild with shock as she read the words printed in black-and-white. “You can’t be serious!”

The man seated across from her in an expensive looking leather seat pressed his hands together neatly. Warden Jones was a thin man, nothing really special about him other than the one missing finger on his right hand. His pinkie, to be precise. Ever since Esme had met the man a few minutes ago, ‘how’ he had lost it had been on her mind. That was until she was given the document to see.

“I am extremely serious.” Warden Jones readjusted his reading glasses and pointed to the section at the bottom which had been signed. “It was approved by the Wayne Health Department of Gotham. With the way the cells are overflowing with sick patients, there is nowhere else to put you but with him.”

“Surely, not…” Esme wasn’t stupid. Sure, she was small and looked easy to be considered passable to bend under authority, but she wasn’t brain dead. There was definitely reasons why the Joker himself didn’t have a cellmate yet, and the thought of being next made goosebumps rise on the back of her neck and arms.

“I’m afraid I have no choice,” Warden Jones sighed, though he didn’t sound regretful. “The CEO of the entire company, Bruce Wayne, himself, signed on it. It is out of my hands.”

“But this isn’t right!” Esme shouted, beginning to panic now. “I’m a woman. You can’t room me up with some guy. Plus, you’ve heard the stories – hell, you probably have seen them with your own eyes! Warden Jones, the guy is one of the most criminally insane-”

“And you’re not?” The wardens eyes were narrowed dangerously. “The same girl who blew all those kids up down south?”

“I told the judge and I’ve told everyone else!” Esme hissed, her throat closing up at the horrible memories of nobody believing her in that courtroom. “I wasn’t apart of anything. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time! Framed!”

Warden Jones pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose and let out a breath of exasperation. “Even if that were true, it is as I said. It’s out of my hands, Ms. Rye. The guards will escort you to the cell now.”

“But this is-”

“The sooner you meet him, the sooner this gets over with Ms. Rye.”

You mean the sooner I get put out of my misery! Esme thought bitterly.

Behind her, Officer Hans, a plain, shortish man with reddish-brown stubble and brown eyes, grabbed her upper arm to pull her up to her feet. Esme didn’t care he was touching her, though. Out of all the patients she could have been paired with, it just had to be the most dangerous man in Gotham City – The Joker.

From what Esme had heard from her peers and the chaos she had seen on the TV; the guy was one of the craziest to exist in the city, maybe even the world. The Joker was described by many as an unpredictable terrorist, that the Joker was a psychopathic criminal and was extremely volatile, especially when it came to conducting his illegal business.

Though, Esme herself had never met the man or even seen him up close, it was definitely someone she really didn’t want to meet. Esme preferred to steer clear from all the risky stuff, thanks. Though, even her cautiousness couldn’t protect her from getting framed for murder and ending up in Arkham.

The warden barely even wished her luck as Officer Hans escorted her out of the office and down the steps to a long hallway which led in the E-BLOCK district. This was where they held the most dangerous of patients such as Jervis Tetch and Jonathan Crane. It’s where they held the Joker. And it was when they neared her new cell that Esme realised that this was actually happening, and that it all started because she decided to go out for once in her life and take a fucking walk.

Esme flinched out of her anxious train of thoughts by the sound of Officer Hans’ jingling keys unlocking the cell door and opening it with a loud, whiny creak. He then shoved Esme forward harshly, almost making her lose her footing and fall to the cold concrete ground.

“Have fun in there girlie.” Officer Hans gave her one last sneer before locking the door closed again and the sounds of his fading footsteps tapping against the laminate flooring in the hall disappeared with him.

Esme’s heart was beating so fast, and her blood felt hot under her skin the longer the eerie silence went on in this dark room.

In the dimly lit shadows of the cell, there was a flash of fluoro green that glinted in the small dapple of light coming from the door, and Esme froze. He was there, at the back of the cell, watching her. She could see him now that her eyes adjusted to the change of lighting. He was sitting on the bottom bunk, leaning forward to eagerly look at her. He was wearing the typical orange scrubs Arkham made all the patients wear, and his pale complexion contrasted vastly against the dark tone of the cell.

The quietness between them frightened her. Esme found that she could barely move as she watched him like some deer in headlights.

Then, a wide, red smile grew on his face, and the light glinted against his broken teeth which had been fixed and filled in with silver replacements. Creepy, yet, startingly nice looking at the same time. Like Esme had noticed, the Joker stood out against the dark vibes of their shared cell, and it was now that he stood up and slowly stepped closer that she could see the various scars and tattoos littered here and there on his face and arms. Despite that strange uniqueness, he was sort of nice looking…

“And who are you?” He purred, cocking his head to the side a little.

Esme bit her lip and closed her eyes as her anxiety flooded through her chest. She was desperately hoping that he wouldn’t just buzz out and try and kill her.

When she opened her eyes, Esme was startled when he was now only a few inches in front of her. The Joker’s grin, if it were even possible, just got even wider at the way she flinched.

“I think I’m gonna like you.” He grinned.

Well, that’s concerning.

[PART 2 COMING SOON]

#romance #fanfiction #wattpad #oneshot #joker #suicide squad #arkham #dc extended universe #innocent cohabitation #belated love epiphany #roommates #mafia/gangster #joker x reader #joker x oc #joker oneshot #part 1

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scrapnick · 1 month

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When the parasite comes off is Magdalena just bald under it?

It’s intergrated with her spinal cord so if it comes off, so does her head and spine! :D

#asks #answered #anon #the suicide squad oc #magdalena seymore

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saltysideblog · 8 months

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It’s Delilah’s birthday!!!

Hard to believe the OC that started this blog is already two years old 🎉

#happy birthday #wallflower #delilah krill #dceu oc #the suicide squad oc #self insert

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captastra · 4 months

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Commissioned @negativesd09 for this adorable chibi of Rick and Renée 💗!!!

With how often Rick is away, these two can never get enough of each other when he does return home.

Thank you so much for bringing them to life!! I adore it 🥺🥰

#dceu #suicide squad #oc: renée watts #rick flag #ship: a grounding force #rick x renee #dc oc #commission #negativesd09 #arr

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somewillwin · 7 months

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Kofi request by @captastra of Rick flag and their oc ♥️ thanks for the support ✨

#Rick flag #oc #dceu #dc comics #suicide squad #myart #kofi event

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cherrycocaineee · 1 year

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35. Joker - Safe With Me

*Warning: I’ve incorporated characters from both Gotham and Suicide Squad. Mention of Violence. Abuse. Legal Age Gap. Whatever else is considered a warning.*

Synopsis: After one of the most intense beatings she’s ever experienced by her father, Paisley runs away; only taking a pre-packed backup with her and ditching her cell. Not wanting to go to the Joker, afraid of what he’d do to her father if she did, she goes to an abandoned building instead. But being the property of the Joker means that he knows where she’s at at all times.

* Paisley’s p.o.v *

It was the worst it had ever been before; and even though it had been two hours since I had just experienced the most gruesome beating in my life, the pain was still fresh. The bruises formed almost immediately, and there were popped blood vessels in my eye coloring the white part red. My face was sticky with old tears, new ones adding to the mess as I looked at the mirror in my room. I hadn’t done anything wrong that warranted this type of outburst, in fact, it had nothing to do with me at all. Apparently, dad was going through some things at work that had him considering leaving Gotham; which I found out meant that he might lose his job if he stayed. He was so stressed out that he drank too much before coming home to take his drunken frustration out on me to make himself feel better.

I moved some of my blonde hair out of my face; dry blood had crusted into my hair from the cut that it hid. My other hand reached up and touched my busted lip, wincing as I felt the sting of how fresh it was. I tried not to look at the thousands of bruises littering my body or the sharp pain in my ribs that might indicate a broken bone. The only thing I could think of the entire time I cried and looked at my wounds was that I couldn’t do this anymore, and that I deserved better than what I was getting. So I quietly opened my closet door, listening intently to the television downstairs, then grabbed my pre-packed bag out from underneath a few extra quilts and blankets. I was never worried about dad going through my belongings, I was worried about Freddy going through my things and finding stuff that I didn’t want to have to explain to him or my dad.

I didn’t plan on taking my cell phone with me, so I made sure to block the Joker’s number and hope that when I did see him again, he’d understand. I even deleted our messages so no one could go through them when they realized I was gone. I opened my underwear drawer and pulled out a wad of cash that I had been saving up from allowances. Once I had everything that I needed, I opened my window and crawled onto the extended tree limb that normally helped me sneak back in after my nights with Mister J. As soon as my feet touched the ground, I took off down the streets as quietly and quickly as I could. I didn’t want to catch anyone’s attention. All I wanted to do was get away from this man who was no longer my father.

There really wasn’t anywhere I could go where someone didn’t recognize me; the whole city practically knew who my dad was, even the criminals knew. I’d go to the Joker later but right now, I was afraid of what he’d do once he saw me in this state. In the meantime, I dodged anyone I thought could recognize me and call home to inform my dad that I was wandering the streets of Gotham late at night. After some time, I had managed to walk my way into some abandoned building that I’d never noticed before. Glass covered every inch of the ground, mixing with the gray sand and dead grass, all of the windows were boarded up and I wondered if maybe the windows were broken on purpose when they closed down. It also could have been teenagers breaking in, similar to what I was doing. I could read the sign that was painted on the moldy bricks because it was too faded.

“God,” I mumbled, “This is definitely how people die.”

But even that was a better fate than being alive and beaten.

Taking a large breath, I made my way into the building. There were no lights on but the small cracks in the foundation allowed a few slips of moonlight to give me direction. In the distance, I could hear a small bubbling sound coming from a room. A green, illuminated light peeped underneath the door that contained it. Swallowing hard, I shuffled to the door and pushed it open; an eerie creek echoed off the empty, damp walls. Leading through the room was a high pavement of metal that looked wet like everything else in the building, however, surprisingly it wasn’t rusted. I placed my foot on the metal carefully and listened for anything that would indicate I’d fall to my doom. When I was reassured that it was safe, I started walking further into the room. Underneath the walkway were enormous vats of green, steaming liquid that I recognized easily; the only reason I knew what it was was because of the lesson we did in chemistry class. It was acid. I was quickly reminded of Harley’s beginning, how it all started for her here. Part of me always wondered if the Joker kept me around to fill in the hole Harley left, if he really cared about me at all or was he doing it all to help him then toss me to the side. I was afraid to tell him that, to see what his reaction would be. Would he hit me like my father did when he was angry? Would he just leave me? Would I ruin something that I considered perfect in its own way?

I eventually made it to the edge of the path and peered down at the rolling acid beneath me. I remembered telling Mister J that I didn’t want to end up diving into a pit of acid and becoming the new Harley, and he had been okay with it but I still wondered if that were the case. Sighing gently, I sat down and let my feet dangle over the edge. The drop looked further than it probably was, like if I was peering down at the mess beneath me from a tower. More tears slid down my cheeks and I buried my head into my hands as I started to sob uncontrollably like I had at home.

Time seemed to speed by while I sat alone, crying and wallowing in my own self pity. When I was officially cried out, I wiped all of the tears away as well as the small amount of snot bubbling at the end of my nose. I was so preoccupied that I didn’t notice the door opening or feet approaching me until I had a feeling someone was standing behind me. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, sending a rush of fear rolling through my body. I was afraid that my dad had found me here and that I would receive more than what I’d gotten earlier. But that fear was tossed out the window when I heard the Joker’s voice.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He hissed, angry by the fact that I had blocked his number.

“I just needed some time to think,” I whispered, never making eye contact with him so he couldn’t see my face.

“You blocked my number,” his breathing was huffier, angrier, “Is that your way of telling me you’re done with me?”

That time, I couldn’t even form the words to explain myself. All of the emotions resurfaced as I began to choke on sobs again, covering my mouth to quiet them to no avail. Mister J kneeled beside me, gripping my shoulders hard and forcing me to look at him. His eyes were cold and hard, dangerous and calculating; probably all of the ways to kill me. Then they softened and relaxed when he saw the condition I was in.

“I had to leave,” I cried, “It was so much worse than…than before. And I had to block your number so he wouldn’t see I’d been speaking to you, in case he found me.”

“Why didn’t you come to me, Paisley?”

“Because I don’t want you to kill him! He’s my fa-father!”

I buried my head into the silk of his shirt, gripping the leather of his jacket while more sobs escaped. Drool started gathering onto his shirt creating a wet stain but he didn’t say anything. Instead, Mister J wrapped his strong, thick arms around me in comfort while brushing my hair with his fingers. When his fingers found the blood tangled in my hair, he froze but still kept whatever was brewing in his head to himself. Once again, I felt cried out so I pulled away, wiping away the drool and tears from my face as well as his shirt, at least the best I could.

“I sh-shouldn’t have blocked you,” I croaked, “but I didn’t know what else to…to do. I’m so tired. Drained.”

Mister J sat beside me, keeping his arm around me firmly.

“Luckily,” Mister J muttered, his voice still rough with anger, “I know exactly how to find someone when I need to.”

“How did you find me?” I asked, sniffling.

“Someone I work close to saw you walking down the street with a frightened face. I figured it was because you were scared of me finding you but now that I’m looking at you, I know that wasn’t the case.”

Mister J pulled his cell phone out of his jacket pocket and clicked around before putting the phone to his ear. I stared up at him, wondering who he was calling right now.

“Frost,” he said, answering my unspoken question, “Go to Paisley’s home and collect the rest of her things to bring back home. And take her dad too.”

My eyes widened and I tried to tell him no or anything else that would get him to leave my dad alone. When he hung up on Frost, I pushed him off of me angrily.

“I told you I didn’t want you to kill him!” I snapped.

Mister J stared at me with a large grin on his face. His silver teeth glowing in the moonlight and the green, illuminating acid. I shook my head; it felt like he wasn’t taking any of this seriously. I climbed to my feet and grabbed my pre-packed runaway kit then started to leave. Mister J was quick to his own feet and grabbed my arm to keep me from leaving.

“He hurt you and he continues to hurt you. He wants to take you away from me too, and I can’t allow that. I won’t allow that. As long as you and I are together, Paisley, you belong to me, and I won’t allow anything to happen to you like with Harley. Especially when I could have put an end to it. I listened, I didn’t go near him and I didn’t kill him like you asked but enough's enough.”

My bag slipped off my shoulder, hitting the metal with a loud thud.

“But I…what will I do?” I whispered.

“You’ll come stay with me like we’ve talked about.”

“People will come looking for me.”

“We’ll fake your own death. They’ll think you and your dad died.”

“What if I want to go out and get coffee or just for a walk or to pick something up?”

“Then you’ll go with the guards so they can watch and protect you, otherwise, you’ll be with me. You’ll be safe, Paisley.”

I wiped away the remaining tears and looked up at his icy blue eyes with my own. He was watching me, reading everything he could off my face to see if I’d agree or not. How could I say no? He’d always taken care of me before, he listened and didn’t act when he discovered my dad was beating me or that he wanted to take me out of Gotham. Mister J had never given me a reason to distrust him, even his anger and the way he acted sometimes didn’t scare me because he didn’t take his anger out on me. In fact, he treated me like a princess all the time.

I reached out and took the hand that wasn’t grabbing onto me. It was covered in tattoos and thick calluses. I led him back to where we had been sitting and pulled him down beside me. I rested my head against his shoulder and sighed. Our outer thighs touched and I kept our hands entwined with one another.

“Okay,” I said, “I’ll come stay with you. But I swear to God, if you ever lay your hands on me the way he did…”

No more words left my mouth as Mister J burst into laughter, the sound stretching across the room creating an echo.

“I’m serious,” I protested.

“I know,” he laughed, “that’s what makes it hilarious because you think I’d stoop so low as to hit someone as pretty as you.”

“You’re so unlike yourself when you’re around me.” A giggle left my own lips.

“Is that so?” He hummed.

I nodded.

And it was true too. Everyone knew how the Joker really was to people; he was a ruthless killer who had no problem manipulating his way out of any situation so he could get what he wanted. But that had never been the case with me; he had approached me, he asked me to be with him, and he continued to see me afterwards without asking for anything besides my loyalty. I didn’t even have to get him out of Arkham when he wound up in there, I just had to promise to come see him on the days I visited my mom and had to be with him once he got out. It was like our relationship was purely based on a need for someone to love him because he didn’t have that anymore. How he ended up falling in love with me was still a mystery but I knew how I fell in love with him. And I didn’t regret being in love with him. If Mister J swore he was going to take care of me and treat me the way I deserved to be treated, then I didn’t mind the darker side of him.

“Paisley,” Mister J called out.

I looked up at him and hummed in acknowledgment.

“I love you.”

It was the first time he had ever said that to me before. I smiled, nibbling on my bottom lip as I felt happiness erupt inside me.

“I love you too, Mister J.”

He climbed to his feet and held out his hand. I didn’t hesitate to take it and he easily pulled me off the metal platform. Not another word was spoken between the two of us as we left the abandoned building. And for the first time in a long time, I knew I was going to be able to sleep peacefully without the fear of being woken in the middle of the night to be punished.

It was refreshing.

Taglist: @w4nt-h1s-d1ck @leaveitbythewave @ellatitanium @gaymistakeboi @erika-solic @weepingwitchofthewest

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r4mdisk · 2 months

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If the ssktjl was way lamer you would 100% see my lame supervillain self insert here! Submitting him for twink of the year award lmao. Thanks to my amazing friends for helping me design him 💗💗😭

Any name suggestions?

#dc #dc comics #suicide squad #supervillian oc #supervillain #suicide squad kill the justice league

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practically-an-x-man · 14 days

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Whatever Keeps You Around (Rick Flag x Eris)

Summary: Based on this prompt, Eris runs into an immortal surprise in a very mundane place. (Title from First Time by Hozier)

Word Count: 2.1k

Tags: Mild jealousy, mild possessive themes, some mentions of violence.

____

"Go see if they have any bread you like, hon."

Eris nodded, ducking past him and half-jogging up to the shelf of artisanal bread in the corner of the store. This was why he'd picked this store, even though it was small and pricey and overly-organic: Eris claimed it was the only place in New Orleans that made bread the right way, whatever they in their mind deemed the right way.

All Rick knew was that it cost about eight dollars a pop and was loaded with spices he couldn't identify, and that Eris could go through three loaves a week if he let them. Usually he did. The one perk to working for Amanda Waller was the paycheck, and that allowed him at least enough wiggle room to buy the right kind of bread.

She jogged back up to him, two loaves wrapped in paper in her arms, just as Rick had finished thanking the deli clerk for his cold cuts and cheeses. Eris tucked the bread into the shopping cart almost delicately and promptly plucked the deli bags from his hands to inspect his selections.

"Oven-roasted turkey? Not the herb kind?"

"Outta stock. I've got thyme and stuff back at the house if it really bothers you," Rick replied, "What kind of bread did you pick out?"

"Honey-rosemary and something they call rustic medley," Eris muttered, "I'll be the judge of that."

"Sounds pretty good," he agreed, "Maybe we can make butter to go with it."

Eris tilted his head, something Rick stupidly misinterpreted as a lack of understanding.

"I saw it online, you just put heavy cream and a little salt in a mason jar, shake it u-"

"I'd be willing to bet I'm more familiar with making butter than you are, Flag." Eris cut him off, sharp as always, "But why?"

"I dunno. Seems like fun."

"You have a real strange idea of fun. And this is coming from someone who lived through tapestry being the popular hobby." they jeered, but tossed a carton of heavy cream into the cart as they passed the dairy case. Rick tried to hide his smile. If anyone was the definition of 'actions speak louder than words', it was Eris.

He stayed close to Rick's side as they wandered the store, occasionally tossing things into the cart on what looked like pure whim. Cans of tomato soup, the ones Rick remembered mentioning were his favorite because they reminded him of his childhood, made their way in alongside pretzels and peanut butter and bars of high-cacao baking chocolate. It was far too bitter for his tastes, at least in anything other than baked goods, but Eris could snack on it like a Hershey bar. She liked it for the same reason she liked the artisanal bread, he thought. Nostalgia, or the closest thing to nostalgia they could find.

"Lasagna tonight? Or should we just find something to stick in the oven?" Rick asked, frowning at the prices of the pasta boxes on the shelves. Eris was back at his side in a moment, moving so quickly and silently that he would have jumped if he wasn't used to it.

"Hm. Neither. Make your pot pie." he decided, and Rick felt him lean in against his side, "I have a taste for it."

His mother's recipe, the one he'd tried so hard to get right after her death, now lived on as a favorite in the mind of a centuries-old metahuman.

That one made him feel good.

He knew Eris wasn't one for public affection, but he still couldn't resist wrapping his arm around their shoulders and pressing a kiss to the top of their head. He pulled back quickly, before Eris could wriggle away or complain about looking soft, and waved a hand at the produce aisle they'd left in their wake.

"Go grab me a bag of baby carrots and some green beans, then," he said, then paused and corrected, "In a bag. Not just loose green beans."

"I know that, smartass." Eris huffed, rolling her eyes at him as she walked away. Rick suppressed a chuckle.

There was someone else in the produce aisle, apparently trying to decide between a starfruit and a cherimoya. They were half a head taller than Eris, with wavy brown hair halfway down their back and a flowing blue sundress swishing around their knees.

Rick didn't pay them much mind, and was about to turn and grab a can of biscuits when Eris froze in his tracks.

"Julius?"

The taller figure whipped around so fast it must have given them whiplash, and their eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. Rick could see, even from afar, that their features had the same strangely archaic look as Eris' own, though perhaps a continent and a few centuries apart.

"Oh my- Eris?" they stammered, then gestured vaguely at themself, "And it's- er, Wisteria now. Wisty."

"Wisty." Eris repeated, as if testing out the name, "You're... very not dead, for someone three hundred years old."

"Made a deal with a witch a while back. And you're... very tame for how I remember you."

That made a grin flash across Eris' face, quick and sharp and promising only dark things.

"Try me."

But Wisty didn't flinch. She just smiled right back, though this one was nostalgic, almost soft.

The thought struck Rick like a bolt of lightning.

Eris had a type.

Underneath the flowing fabric of her dress, Wisty had to be at least as tall as Rick himself was, and just as stacked with muscle. Old scars littered what bare skin was visible around her clothing, like she'd been a fighter in a past life- or perhaps still was. And she knew not to flinch at those shark-smiles Eris threw at her. Just like Rick did.

The thought made something strange bubble up inside him. He wasn't sure he liked it. As strange and twisted as Eris' affections could be, he'd never before had competition for those affections. It was actually one of the best things about being with them, knowing they'd always drift back to him at the end of all the chaos.

It wasn't Wisteria's arrival alone that had him so tense. What really got him was the set of Eris' posture as he spoke to her: leaned back slightly on his heels, shoulders loose, head tilted ever-so-slightly in curiosity. Casual. Relaxed. The only time he'd ever seen Eris truly relaxed was when they were alone with him.

"We should catch back up." Wisty decided, a smile slowly growing on her face, "Go... spar like the old times or something. I'm a lot tougher than I used to be."

"I don't doubt it." Eris said, their spine automatically straightening at the promise of a good challenge.

He deserved this, Rick thought. This was some sort of cosmic payback for those two years he spent pushing her aside in favor of June, for snapping at all the times they suggested making him into a metahuman like them - it was all to keep him safe, to keep him around.

Well, here was someone who'd stuck around. Who'd played the long game, the centuries-long game, the way Rick was always so afraid to commit to. Who could hold their own against Eris, when she still had to pull her punches against him.

"What do you think? My lance and your spear, or hand-to-hand?" Wisty asked, playfully throwing up her fists with a broad grin. Eris returned the gesture, bouncing on his toes a little.

It was like he'd forgotten Rick was there, just ten feet back. And even as much as he wanted to call out, to remind them... he couldn't move. All he could do was watch it all unravel before him, the can of biscuits still held tight in one hand. Suddenly his mom's old recipe didn't seem to matter much.

"It'll be like before. You and me," Wisty said, "The old war god and the king's footsoldier."

Then there was a different kind of tension in Eris' posture. The shift was sudden, her chin lifted and her shoulders drawn back, all joviality transformed into something more guarded.

"I'm with someone." he said, each word crisply spaced, and brushed past Wisty with smooth, disciplined steps. They grabbed a plastic bag and shoved a handful of green beans into it, pausing only to pluck a few wrinkled and undesirable vegetables from the lot and toss them back. Wisteria turned, fixing them with a tilted expression.

"You told me you wouldn't love another. You told me love was too painful. You told me... that I was the last one."

Eris snatched a bag of baby carrots, holding them tight in her hand as she turned.

"I was wrong." they said, chin set and eyes blazing, "And if you do a damn thing to him, if you hurt him thinking that'll bring me back to you, I'll kill you where you stand. And I will feel no remorse."

With that, he stormed his way back to Rick and tossed the vegetables into the shopping cart.

"You were staring." they muttered, taking the can of biscuits from his hand and dropping it into the cart alongside the rest of the groceries. Then, to his surprise, they folded their fingers into his own. For Eris, that was the equivalent of a public strip tease. Rick gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

"Yeah, I know. Couldn't help it." he admitted, knowing better than to try and duck around it, "First time I've ever seen one of your old friends. Didn't realize there was anyone else... like me."

"She wasn't like you." Eris huffed, ducking around his arm to give the cart a brisk shove, "Nobody's like you."

"It's alright if she was." Rick argued, "I know I'm not the only person you've loved, doll. That's okay."

Eris opened his mouth to respond, then reconsidered and shook his head. It must've been a lot to explain, or something they couldn't bear to speak in such public company. Their posture was still tense, shoulders stony, and they didn't spare so much as a single glance back at the produce aisle.

"Nobody's like you." she just repeated, even more set and sullen. Rick decided there were two ways he could take that: a sign that this love was real, or a sign that the pattern would end up repeating itself in a few years. He decided to take it as the former. The latter, true as it might be, felt far too pessimistic.

"Rome!" a voice called from behind them, and finally Eris turned. Wisteria had caught up, and fire a glance between the two of them. Rick met her eyes calmly, and found something strange swimming there. She returned her gaze to Eris, unflinching. "A hundred years. Rome. Then we'll have our fight."

Rick could hear the other half of her words: because he won't be around by then. Maybe he should have been offended by the implications. He didn't bother. He'd always known there would be someone after him. He didn't expect to meet that someone, but... this was life with Eris. He'd learned to get used to things like this.

"Fine." Eris agreed, though the firm look never left her eyes, "I will meet you on the steps of the Colosseum in one hundred years exactly. We will have our fight."

Their grip tightened on his hand unexpectedly, right on the verge of being painful. Wisteria's eyes fell straight to it, and she frowned a little. Eris must not have been any more affectionate in their prior life.

"But you will get no love from me then." they concluded, "They will bury my heart when they bury him."

Rick saw hurt bloom across Wisty's face, a shocked and helpless sort of pain, but Eris just spun and gave the cart another brutal shove towards the checkout lanes. Rick found himself pausing an extra moment, looking into Wisty's shockingly crestfallen eyes and debating an apology.

In the end, he just shut his mouth and trailed after Eris, leaving Wisty where she stood. He had a sense that speaking to her would only make things worse. It was better just for him to be, in her mind, some speechless nameless thing at Eris' heels. It was probably safer for the both of them.

He caught up to Eris just shy of the checkout lanes, right as they set a rotisserie chicken in the front basket of the cart. She glanced up at him as he approached and offered him something like a smile. It was a little pointed, a little irritated, but he didn't mind that too much.

"You're mine." she muttered, possessive like a wolf to its mate, "Until they put you in the ground, you're mine."

"I love you too, wartime."

#my ocs #oc eris #my writing #oneshot #shortfic #the suicide squad #rick flag #oc x canon #light angst #happy ending

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