#k.requests

"Stood up again, huh?" You muttered to yourself. "Just my luck…"

The crowd around you laughed, and if you didn’t know better, you would’ve assumed they were laughing at you. Rather, they were all focused on the pretentious man standing under the spotlight on the small platform stage. It was a Thursday night at Pogo’s, which meant the mic was open to any comedian daring enough to take on the task of trying to make the dreary people of Gotham laugh. This particular comedian seemed to have knocked it out of the park. Everyone was practically rolling out of their seats with laughter.

Everyone, but you.

You wouldn’t say you were a hard person to please when it came to humor. There were many things you found funny —even a lot of the darker stuff. Your humor just didn’t align with the misogynistic and overall bigoted jokes that seemed to be ever-flowing from this guy’s mouth. Having arrived at Pogo’s nearly an hour and a half ago, you could confidently say that the jokes from everyone else that had taken the stage that night had been no different. Quite frankly, you were bored.

It wasn’t even your idea to come to Pogo’s that night. Your date recommended it, raving about the comedian who went by the same name as the one currently on stage before you. According to him, this guy was the "comedian of the century".

You could feel your eyes threatening to roll into the back of your skull just thinking about it.

Dating in Gotham had left you jaded, and this was one of the many reasons why. You just couldn’t seem to find someone you truly felt a connection to. After being on so many first dates with multifarious characters —all of which never led to a second, you began to lose hope in finding that special someone to share your life with. At first, that reality stung like a hundred paper cuts on your lonely heart. But after some time, the loneliness faded, and you realized you didn’t really mind being alone. You enjoyed your own company better than most others’. And you never disagreed with yourself on things like whether pineapple belonged on pizza, if cereal was a soup, which superpower is the best, which jokes were funny and which were plain bad —you know, the important stuff. Whether or not you found a partner in the future was no longer a top priority on your list, as not only had you given up on the terrible dating pool of Gotham, but you had also finally found contentment within yourself and the prospects of being alone.

That was until last week, when you met the no-show date of yours in person for the first time. Your friend had mentioned him in conversation before, so you weren’t too surprised to find he had joined your scheduled get-together with a few of your other friends that evening. He introduced himself, and the two of you seemed to hit it off quite well. You didn't talk about very much, but you swore you felt something.

The spark, perhaps?

You had always been told about a special spark that you’d feel when you met "the one." However, nobody could seem to tell you what exactly it felt like. All you were told was, "You’ll know it when you feel it."

Unfortunately, you’d never get to find out whether you were right about that spark. You even stayed far longer than you normally would have for a no-show date like this. As much as you had yourself convinced that you were totally fine with being eternally single, you couldn’t deny the fact that you were still a hopeless romantic at heart, always seeking out that special connection, that special spark.

That’s why you stayed as long as you did, suffering through ninety minutes of ridiculously bad jokes —though you seemed to be the only one in the room with that opinion. Looking back, you were glad your date didn’t show. You deserved better than someone who thought the jokes you’d heard all night were the pinnacle of humor.

Cheers from the crowd around you pulled you out of your thoughts and back to the center of the room as the previous comedian could be seen waltzing off the stage. The announcer took his place at the mic, reading off the information for the next comedian in line. A disgruntled huff left your lips. The last thing you wanted was to stick around for another insufferable act filled with the same jokes. Besides, it was getting late, and you’d already waited long enough for a date that was never going to happen.

Getting ready to leave, you took one last sip of your drink and collected your things. You pulled out your wallet, fishing for a tip to leave the waiter, just as the announcer finished reading their script.

"For his whole life, was told that his purpose in life is to bring happiness and joy into this cold, dark world…Uh…Right. Everyone, please help me welcome Arthur Fleck!"

Your ears perked up at those words. That introduction was much more interesting than any of the others you’d heard. Still, you continued to search for the five-dollar bill you knew you had somewhere in your wallet, not paying any mind to the clapping around you or what was happening on stage.

That was, until he spoke.

"Hello, it’s good to be here." His velvety voice was laced with nervousness. He chortled, but it didn’t sound natural at all.

Forgetting about the tip, you glanced up at the man in the spotlight. Your heart unexpectedly fluttered in your chest as you observed the man —Arthur, was it?— closely.

He wore a merlot-colored vest over a white button-up shirt, paired with matching red slacks and brown loafers. His hair was slightly brushed back, little brown curls framing his face that stopped just a couple inches above his shoulders. Dark eyebrows highlighted a pair of eyes so strikingly green that you could distinctly see them from the back of the room where you were seated.

Arthur… He was certainly handsome. What concerned and intrigued you was the veil of pain over his smile and eyes and the underlying strain in his voice. There was something about him that drew you in —made you want to know more. Your wallet laid disregarded on the table as your eyes remained focused on him.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ♡̷̷̷ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Arthur swallowed back the growing lump in his throat. "Not now. Remember your practice." He repeated these words over and over in his head, begging the laughter not to take over again. He had performed this act once before a couple of months ago, but his condition had stolen the show from him, which left everyone laughing at him and not his jokes. He was embarrassed, but he couldn’t help but think, "What’s new?". Yet, after that failed performance, he somehow felt more determined to try again. He practiced and practiced any time he had the chance, often in the mirror or in his living room in front of an imagined audience.

He really felt like he had it down pat this time. All he had to do was get ahold of his laughter long enough to get through it.

Clearing his throat, he glanced down at the journal gripped tight by his trembling hands before looking back up at the audience.

"I h-hated school as a kid." One line down, and he only slightly chuckled. He made sure to smile like he rehearsed.

"My mother would say, 'You should enjoy it; one day you’ll have to work for a living.'"

Arthur could feel his throat closing up again. Sweat began to bead on his forehead from the stress and the hot stage lights above. He took a deep breath, trying to center himself before moving on to the punch line.

"N-No, I won't, ma’, I’m gonna be a comedian!" He held his arms out with a smile.

Scanning the silent audience, he began to feel his confidence crumble. As it did, the laughter became harder to suppress. He awaited his own doom…

A giggle could be heard somewhere in the distance. Arthur felt a bolt of excitement run through him, reviving his dwindling composure as he quickly began searching for the owner of the laugh amongst the dark sea of judging eyes around him.

Finally, they landed on you.

Arthur was immediately captivated by your beauty. You were all dressed up, your hair was done up nicely, and your radiant smile was pointed directly at him. You even laughed at his joke! Or were you just laughing at him like everyone else typically did? He wasn’t the best at reading people, but your smile seemed warm and your eyes friendly. And honestly, with your eyes locked on him in that very moment, he didn’t really care much whether he was misreading that or not. There was something about you that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Something that drew him to you —made him want to keep making you smile like that.

Arthur took his newfound confidence and continued with his act, trying his hardest to illicit more of that wonderful sound you made earlier.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ♡̷̷̷ ⋆⁺₊⋆

For the first time all night, you laughed. Not even a pity laugh, like the few you’d heard sprinkled amongst the quiet. Arthur evidently had some sort of condition he struggled with, but despite that, he was genuinely funny. The more he continued with his act, the more you found yourself laughing. You didn’t even care if you were the only person in the room who found his jokes hilarious. They clearly had terrible taste, and dammit, you were actually enjoying yourself!

It seemed like after he and you made eye contact, his laughter subsided a bit, enough for him to get through things a little more smoothly. Even so, you still felt deep concern each time he seemed to choke on the laughter that forced its way past his lips. You had never heard of such a condition, but it was clear to you that his laughter was not voluntary. You found yourself admiring his bravery and persistence, even when he was continuously cut off by his painful laughter, and eventually, the announcer, telling him his time was up.

You felt your blood boil at the announcer for interrupting his act so rudely. The other comedians had been allowed to finish their full acts, even if they went over their allotted time. They just wanted Arthur off the stage.

A pang of worry hit you as Arthur’s laughter finally got the better of him and came out in full force. You felt the urge to leap out of your chair and help him as he buckled over with his back turned against the audience, covering his mouth as if trying to stuff the laughter back inside himself. You didn’t want to make him any more uncomfortable than he already was, so instead, you clapped. Not once did you clap at the end of the other comedian’s acts that night. But Arthur, he made you truly laugh. If any one of them deserved praise and support, it was him.

You clapped loudly enough to fill the deafening silence in the room, standing up in your chair with a smile. Arthur turned his head to look at you, his lips tugging into a genuine smile that reached his eyes before he was abruptly taken over by another fit of laughter. Your eyes followed him as he quickly scurried off the stage, heading into the backstage area. Your heart tugged against your chest at the sudden absence of him, a sensation that confused you.

It couldn’t possibly be the spark you’d been searching for…right? You barely knew the man.

You didn’t give yourself any more time to think before you tossed a random bill onto the table and rushed towards the backstage area you had seen him vanish into. Your feet moved quickly down the stairs, your eyes scanning around for him. Stopping in an unfamiliar room, you found it to be filled with nothing but framed photos of popular comedians who had performed at Pogo’s and a TV hung in the top left corner by the stairs from which you came. It was quiet and empty, but there was a hallway ahead that you hoped might lead you to the person you were seeking.

This time, you hesitated before moving your feet. Was this weird? Creepy, even? All you wanted was to speak to him face-to-face. Tell him his act was great. But would a normal person come bursting through backstage all for that?

"Hey!" You jumped at the booming voice behind you. "Didn’t you read the sign? Performers only!"

You spun around on your heels, not even looking the person in the eye as you mumbled an apology before quickly racing back up the stairs and heading straight for the exit of the building.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ♡̷̷̷ ⋆⁺₊⋆

For days after, you couldn’t stop thinking about how ridiculous an idea that was. You were certain that if you did happen to meet Arthur then, he would’ve thought you were crazy. You didn’t know him at all. He definitely didn’t know you. All you knew of him was what you observed in less than 7 minutes of his act. You made eye contact a few times, he smiled at you, whatever. Nothing special.

So why was it that you couldn’t get him out of your head?

Weeks passed, and the thoughts of Arthur Fleck persisted. You went over the memory of him from that night about a million times. Not just that, you’d been catching yourself imagining what he was doing at any given hour, as well as what kind of person he was. The thoughts kept coming and coming, frequently hindering your focus and only growing louder in the darkest hours of the night. You were beginning to question your own sanity a little. Obsessively thinking about a stranger you barely knew surely wasn’t normal. You knew this, yet you couldn’t seem to separate him from your mind, no matter how hard you tried.

There was just something about him. The way he shined so brightly against the depressing gloom of the city, despite the odds stacked against him —that which you knew you’d only seen the smallest glimpse of. He was a rare gem in Gotham, and you felt lucky to have witnessed him in person. Your only regret was that you never got to officially meet him.

With Gotham being so largely populated, you knew the chances of seeing him again were slim to none. If only you hadn't missed your chance. You’d debated going to Pogo's again in hopes that you’d catch another one of his performances, but you lacked the time, money, and, quite frankly, the willpower to sit through any more of those other dreadful acts. You may have been bordering on crazy when it came to your interest in this complete stranger, but you weren’t THAT desperate.

So, you let him go. Tried to, at least. He still popped into your head frequently throughout your days, but you managed to accept the grief of never getting to know who Arthur Fleck truly was, telling yourself that he was probably not as special as you made him out to be in your head. Arthur Fleck was just a stranger you projected your deepest desires onto, making him out to be the kind of partner you’d always wanted to share your life with but could never seem to find out in the real world. There was no such thing as the ‘spark', the magical connection people always talked about in the movies and that your friends and family raved about. Maybe it was real for them, but not for you. Foolish, were you, to think otherwise…

⋆⁺₊⋆ ♡̷̷̷ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Arthur had been distracted lately, more so than usual. He frequently spent a lot of time in his head; contemplating life, crafting jokes, having conversations with himself, daydreaming scenarios that helped him cope with the harshness of his reality. But as of late, most of his mind had been consumed by one particular subject.

You.

He didn’t know you. Didn’t even know your name. But something about you left a lasting imprint on his mind for days, weeks after his last gig at Pogo’s.

Your beauty, your smile, the way your eyes perked up when they met his. Even at the far end of the dark room, you stood out so clearly to him. And the things he felt when he heard your laughter...he couldn’t possibly describe in words. Never had he been filled with such warmth from a stranger —and all you did was laugh at his jokes! Nobody ever laughed at his jokes.

Nobody, but you.

And you didn’t laugh at him once. He paid close attention to see if you would, all while hoping with everything he had that you wouldn’t. Instead, he was met with an expression filled with joy and kindness, and at certain moments, deep compassion for him.

If it wasn’t for you, he wouldn’t have been able to get through his act. Your laughter was what kept him going and inspired him not to give up. That’s why he wanted to be a comedian in the first place. To make people laugh. To give people a sense of happiness that he himself had been cruelly stripped of his entire life. As Arthur had regrettably learned time and time again, most people found that sense of happiness in laughing at him, seeing him hurt, beating him down —but not in his jokes. Even his own mother didn’t think he was funny.

But you did. And that mean the entire world to him.

Since then, there was seldom a moment in which thoughts of you weren’t floating around his head. He pondered over everything he could remember about you. He imagined what you were like, what your name was, what made you smile, if you had a partner. He selfishly pretended you didn’t for the sake of the daydreams he created of you and him together, despite knowing that if you were to meet him, you’d probably want nothing to do with him. Hell, he wasn’t even convinced you were actually real. How could someone as perfect as you exist? Nobody in Gotham had a smile that bright. Nobody in Gotham would ever openly show him such kindness and warmth. It was impossible…right?

Arthur carried on with his life, knowing that you were likely just a part of his imagination, and he once again confused fantasy with reality. He had been watching too many romantic films lately, and it got to his head, that’s all.

But that certainly didn’t stop the persistent thoughts of you and the deep desire that you did really exist. That, for the first time, he had been truly seen by someone real.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ♡̷̷̷ ⋆⁺₊⋆

"Shit. Dammit. Come on," you cursed under your breath as you struggled to lock your friend’s car with one hand, all while performing a balancing act with an overflowing box of items in your arms and two bags slung over your shoulders.

You felt lucky to have such great friends —the kind that would let you borrow their car when you suddenly got evicted from your apartment. You weren’t feeling too lucky about that, but at least you had people you could rely on to help you through it.

It didn’t help that it was such short notice, leaving you scrambling to find somewhere else to live. Your friends had offered to let you stay on their couches while you searched, but as it turned out, there was only one place within reasonable distance of your job that you could afford, so your search didn’t last long. It wasn’t a great place, by any means. It looked to be practically falling apart, and it was in a terribly dangerous area of Gotham, but you would take that over being on the streets any day. Besides, it was cheap enough that you would conveniently save a few bucks a month. Not much, but it was better than not being able to afford the rent at all.

After successfully locking the car, you walked carefully towards the entrance of the apartment building. With how exhausted you were from frantically packing everything at the last minute, the last thing you wanted to do was take multiple trips to and from your friend’s car for some basic necessities. That said, you made a mental note to move your friend’s car to a safer location before the end of the day. Apparently, the area was known for a lot of car break-ins and robberies.

You walked through the entrance of the building, not having much time to look for where to go before you abruptly collided with someone in front of you, causing most of the items in your arms to fall onto the dirty checkered floor below your feet.

"God, I’m so sorry! I wasn’t really looking—I mean, I couldn’t really see where I was going, and I...I’m sorry," you said as you rushed to pick up all your belongings off the floor. Wanting to avoid witnessing the stranger judge your frazzled state, you kept your eyes glued to the ground and focused on putting things back together in a way that would allow you to carry it all again.

"It’s alright. I wasn’t looking where I was going either," the stranger responded. They seemed surprisingly understanding, something you were not used to receiving in the merciless city you resided in.

"Sorry. H-Here, let me help," he added, just as you noticed the familiar brown loafers on the stranger’s feet. Suddenly, the rest began falling into place.

Wait a minute…That voice. You knew that voice.

You shot your head up just as the stranger crouched down to help you pick up your things. Your eyes met in that moment, leaving you both frozen in place for an unknown amount of time as you each took in the familiar face of the person before you.

It was Arthur. The man you had been thinking about for an embarrassing amount of time. It had been almost a month since you’d seen his act at Pogo's, and thoughts of him still remained active in your mind all this time later, despite your many attempts to lock them away and forget about him.

The chances of you two seeing each other again were so very slim, and yet, there you were, crouched at eye level on the floor, staring at one another in shock. You felt heat rise to your cheeks as you realized you had been blatantly staring at him for what would definitely be considered too long and scrambled to find something to say.

"You’re Arthur Fleck from—"

"You were the one who—"

You and Arthur laughed sheepishly, heat rising to your cheeks as you looked into each other's eyes.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ♡̷̷̷ ⋆⁺₊⋆

There was that laugh he’d been craving to hear all month. It filled his ears and soothed his soul. Even better, your speaking voice was the most heavenly sound he’d ever heard. The way you said his name was enough to have him on the verge of melting into a complete puddle on the floor, and it took all of his conscious energy not to do just that. He was surprised you even remembered him at all. ‘Memorable’ was not a word Arthur would even think to associate himself with. Arthur was invisible to much of the world around him. But strangely, miraculously, not to you.

Not only that…you seemed to be real. The fact that he was so shocked to find out you were the person he ran into pointed more to the possibility of you not just being a figment of his imagination. Never in a million years had he expected to find you in this dump, of all places.

"Y-Yes, that’s me. I’m Arthur." He nodded timidly. "Why are you here?"

"What a stupid question. You didn’t even ask for their name!" he thought. He tried to think of the right things to say in this kind of situation. He had imagined many scenarios of meeting you, but never like this. It became harder to breathe as he realized he had already said the wrong thing. Now you probably thought he was rude and a loser. Why did he always have to mess everything up?

Surprisingly, though, you laughed.

"I swear, I’m not stalking you!" You joked, putting your hands up in playful defense. "I’m actually moving in today." Arthur felt relief fill his being, but the threat of a laughing fit still loomed over his head. You were just so pretty, and perfect, and so much better than he had imagined. He would never forgive himself if he messed this up.

"I’m Y/N, by the way. It’s nice to officially meet you…I’m assuming you live here?" You smiled at him, radiating the same warmth he had received from you at Pogo’s all those nights ago. If he could bask in it forever, he would.

Y/N… Your name definitely suited you better than any of the ones he came up with in his mind. He avoided the temptation to repeat it aloud in front of you. He wanted to know what it felt like rolling off his tongue.

"Yeah, eighth floor," he said. "What floor are you on?" 

Your eyes grew wide, and you blinked a few times in what appeared to be shock.

"E-Eighth floor…"

Now it was Arthur’s turn to feel shocked. What a strange twist of events that seemingly led you both here. Arthur thought he’d given up on fate, seeing as his life had only been filled with one traumatic event after another, no matter how hard he tried to change things for the better. Either fate had a nasty grudge against him or everything was all random chance, and he just so happened to always be in the wrong place at the wrong time. For Arthur, it was easier to believe the latter. At least that way, he still had some sense of control over his life. He’d take his chances in a battle against bad luck over some divine force that he surely stood no chance against.

As he gazed upon you now, he couldn’t help but feel conflicted once more. Maybe he was wrong about fate. Sure, it was his performance at Pogo’s that caught your attention, but Arthur certainly wasn’t the one that led you to being at the club that night, nor the reason that you were moving here —on the same floor of the apartment building he lived in, no less. Maybe it was luck, maybe it was a crazy coincidence, or maybe it was something more…

A glimmer of hope filled his heart as he smiled at you. Maybe you were real, and maybe fate was too. If all the terrible things he went through were the exact things required for him to end up here in this very moment with you, then it was all worth it to him.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ♡̷̷̷ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Arthur was surprisingly not much different than what you imagined him to be like. He was very sweet, and you found his timidity around you charming. Your heart fluttered every time he smiled at you. The smiles he presented you now were not veiled with pain like the ones you had seen from him on stage. They were soft and sincere, and they accentuated the wrinkles around his pretty green eyes.

You accepted his offer to help you carry your things up to your apartment. He claimed he was headed that way anyway, though you swore he had been exiting the building when you ran into him. The possibility of him dropping his plans to help you instead released a whole swarm of butterflies in your stomach.

Arthur pressed the elevator button for the eighth floor, shifting the weight of the box in his arms as he did so. He had insisted on carrying both the heavy box and one of your bags for you, leaving you to carry a few smaller items and the other bag slung around your shoulder.

"I, um…I never got to tell you how much I loved your act! I wanted to speak to you afterwards, but…I guess I missed you," you said.

"Uh, yeah, sorry about that…" He shot you an apologetic look.

"Don’t worry about it." You smiled. "I’m just glad I get to tell you now. You’re really funny, Arthur. Funnier than all those other comedians, if you ask me."

Arthur’s cheeks turned a rosy pink as he looked down at the box in his arms, a big smile taking over his face. "Thank you. That means a lot."

The elevator door screeched open, and the two of you walked down the hallway of your shared floor, your conversation continuing on the way to your door. You both found yourselves walking slower to avoid the inevitable end of the moment you were so immersed in.

Something about the way Arthur spoke to you made you feel special. His tone was gentle, and his eyes held a deep curiosity for every word that you spoke in return. The more the two of you talked, the more comfortable you began to feel around him, and you could sense Arthur felt the same way; his previous nerves now diminished as he casually walked alongside you.

Eventually, you arrived at your destination, but that did nothing to cease your talking. Arthur amusingly pointed out the fact that your apartment was directly across from his and joked about bringing a shitty casserole to your place to welcome you to the neighborhood. You noticed Arthur’s face brighten even more as you laughed at this.

He even offered to help you gather the rest of your things and bring them into your apartment, which you happily agreed to —not only for the help but for the extra time you’d get to spend with him. You were ever so curious to know more about the mysterious Arthur Fleck, who had nearly consumed your every thought for so many days. He intrigued you more than anyone else you’d ever met, the bright light of his soul drawing you nearer like a moth to a flame.

It was at that moment that you finally understood. The spark you’d been seeking your whole life was neither a thing nor a feeling. It was a person.

Finally, you had found your spark.

And his name was Arthur Fleck.

◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈

‣ If you enjoyed this fic, please like, comment, and/or reblog! Doing so not only keeps my blog alive, but also lets me know what you like and how to improve!

Main Masterlist

◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆

It was just past midnight when J unlocked your apartment door and slipped inside. He was dressed in a casual outfit consisting of a black hoodie and jeans, the hood pulled up over his head and a surgical mask covering the lower half of his face. After locking the door behind him, he dropped the hood and pulled the mask off, shoving it into the pocket of his hoodie as he walked further into your apartment.

“Where’s my little dove?” he called out, announcing his presence so as not to frighten you.

It was becoming more of a frequent habit for Jack to come over to your place, especially to sleep. He’d usually let you know when he’d be coming through call or text, but today he hadn’t the time. In fact, he wasn’t planning on coming over at all today. But after the nonsense he’d been dealing with recently regarding work, he wanted nothing more than to pay a visit to his love to set his frazzled mind back in order. At this point, you were pretty used to him showing up at odd hours of the night to visit you, so he figured it wouldn’t be a problem if he stopped by tonight. You were always complaining about not seeing him enough anyway.

While your romantic relationship was still somewhat new, you’d known each other for quite a while by now. He’d spent months trying to woo you, which proved to be a bigger challenge than he had initially expected. Jack knew he wasn’t the most desirable man in the world, but he could tell that wasn’t the only thing holding you back from accepting his affections right away. There was more to you than met the eye, and he was determined to know all the complexities of you.

Jack had no problem taking his time with you. You seemed to appreciate this, so he allowed you to set the pace of your relationship. You hadn’t expected Jack to be so patient with you, yet he was, exceedingly so. He didn’t pressure you to do anything you weren’t comfortable with, and he didn’t judge you for your “odd” tendencies. As J saw it, he was more than a bit odd himself, so who was he to judge? In taking your time to build your relationship together, he’d learned a lot about the little intricacies of who you were, but there was a hidden part of you he had yet to become acquainted with. A mystery he could never seem to solve, until today.

Knocking lightly on your bedroom door, he found it to be unlocked and quietly turned the handle. You hadn’t responded to his previous call, so he figured you were asleep. His assumptions were found to be correct when he spotted you curled up on your bed wearing one of his long-sleeved button-down shirts and a pair of underwear. He took a moment to appreciate the sight of you before walking over to the other side of the bed. There you lied, facing the empty spot where he normally slept, the lamp you left on providing the perfect amount of light for him to admire your beautiful features. Though, the smile that began to tug at his lips upon seeing your face quickly faded as he noticed the puffiness of your eyes and tear stains on the pillow you were lying on.

Letting out a quiet sigh, he removed his shoes and hoodie and left them on the floor beside the bed before carefully climbing onto the mattress. Successfully managing to lie down beside you without waking you, he silently observed your face. Seeing you upset or hurt elicited the worst feelings in him. The emotion that manifested most frequently in him was anger. But the feelings he felt in moments like these were much more complex than that; so complex he couldn’t fully make sense of them. All he knew was that it made his chest ache and his stomach twist in a way that made him feel sick.

Deciding to take the risk of waking you, he gently brushed his knuckles against your cheek, his painted lips curling up into a fond smile as you subconsciously nuzzled against his fingers before going still once more. He continued, moving his hand down to trail his fingertips over your shoulder all the way to your fingertips. He glanced down at your other arm, that which lied between the two of you with your hand tucked under the pillow that supported your head. His fingers traveled to this arm, about to continue their journey when they suddenly froze in place at the familiar sight of crimson. Upon second glance, Jack immediately recognized this to be exactly what he thought it was. At first, he considered it to be an old stain—it was his shirt, after all, but it was too fresh for that to be the case.

Alarms began going off in his head as he went through all the possible scenarios of how you could have been hurt. It wasn’t uncommon to experience physical attacks in the dangerous city of Gotham—even more likely if anyone were to find out about your relationship with the infamous Joker. This is why J taught you how to physically protect yourself and gave you self-defense weapons to keep with you in case anything were to happen. He was also very careful when it came to keeping your relationship hidden from the rest of the world. Along with these things, he took a handful of other measures to keep you safe, making sure to cover all the bases. His biggest fear was you getting hurt, or worse, and him being unable to stop it. He’d do anything to shield you from any potential threats or harm that could ever come your way.

Yet, he’d never once considered self-inflicted harm to be such a substantial threat to his lover…

As he carefully pulled back the red-stained sleeve, his heart sank. He remained still as he stared at the scars and fresh wounds that covered your skin. At this point, you had awoken and immediately felt an impending sense of doom begin to fill your being at the sight of Jack looking directly at what you had tried to keep hidden from him for so long. You yanked your arm away and quickly sat up, pulling the sleeves back over your arms and hiding the rest of your body with the covers. Tears filled your eyes and panic manifested within your chest as an inability to breathe, the racing thoughts in your mind causing you to spiral even faster.

“I’m sorry,” your voice cracked as you uttered the words at barely above a whisper. You were trembling now, squeezing your eyes closed as your mind fed you every worst-case scenario in the book.

Silence.

Oh, how you hated to hear it.

It only provided your mind with more room to insert its own terrible thoughts and ideas about what J was thinking of you.

Unable to open your eyes, yet unable to stand the silence any longer, you spoke again. “Please…say something. If you’re mad or whatever, just say-”

“No.” His sudden interruption startled you, but you were still relieved to hear something come out of his mouth.

“Look at me,” he spoke firmly, but there was something else to the tone of his voice that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. You were too afraid to open your eyes for fear that you'd see nothing but disgust and disappointment staring right back at you.

You felt the mattress shift beneath you as J moved closer to you. A tear fell from your eyes that was swiped away by the pad of his thumb before your chin was gently grasped between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your head up slightly. This time, you bravely opened your eyes to look at your love before you. Instantly, you were met with a strange look in his eyes. Different than any look he’d ever given you before. One filled with so much love, yet carried with it a lingering sadness. This look alone pierced your heart and made it even harder not to crumble to bits into his lap.

“I’m not mad at you. Ya got that?”

The truth is, he was mad at himself. Particularly for not recognizing sooner. He was so observant when it came to you and yet he had completely missed this. It made his stomach turn to think that you had been struggling alone this whole time, unbeknownst to him.

Now everything made sense. All the “odd” tendencies you exhibited on a frequent basis. The way you avoided certain intimate interactions with him. He always thought you just didn't like to be touched that much, so he used his touch sparingly with you and only in ways he knew you were comfortable with. The way you remained so covered up, even when it was blazing hot. In his mind, he assumed you were just insecure about your body and after bringing it up once and seeing you shut down in response, he chose not to press on the subject again until you were ready to talk about it. So many things he could now link directly back to this. How stupid he felt for not being able to piece it together sooner. He could’ve been there for you this whole time and he wasn’t.

But as he looked at you now, your lip quivering as you nodded in response to him, he realized that what really mattered was being there for you now.

“Alright. C’mere.” He held his arms out and you blinked at him, unmoving.

"Do ya want a hug or not? Hm?"

Upon hearing this, you wasted no further time diving into his embrace. He pulled you close, one hand cradling the back of your head and the other wound securely around your waist. You finally burst into tears and clung to him tightly, making his attempt to move the two of you into a better position much more of a struggle, but he managed.

"Hush-ush-ush, it's okay, doll. I got ya,” he cooed softly at you.

He was ever so careful now with where his fingers touched you, choosing to keep them stationed at your back where they gently ran up and down your spine. This soothing touch paired with the sound of him shushing you softly between pressing kisses to your head was enough to calm you down much faster than you normally would have on your own. Now your sobs had dwindled down to mere sniffles and your tears were slowing their pace.

Recognizing this, Jack finally decided to speak again.

"Ya know, I'm always here for you, doll. You might think this changes how I feel about you, but it doesn't. Not one bit."

He could feel your body shake with quiet sobs in response to his words, his shirt being further soaked with your salty tears. He squeezed you a bit tighter.

"Will you let me help you? I'm not sayin' I have all the answers or that it'll be easy, ‘cause it won't. But we're in this together now, toots. I'll do whatever it takes to get ya through this. I mean it."

You were silent for a moment before you looked up at him and hesitantly nodded. The vulnerable look on your face was enough to break what was left of your clown’s heart as his eyes begin to sting slightly. He clenched his jaw to hold back his tears and pressed his lips to your forehead before pulling you closer against him. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he continued to speak.

"We'll figure it out together, hm? Ya got me now. So you better come to me when you're feeling like doing it again. Doesn’t matter what I'm doing. Ya know I’ll drop everything for you."

"It's…hard for me to do that in the moment,” you confessed quietly. J nodded in understanding and gave you another small squeeze of reassurance.

"Try your best, doll. That's all I'm askin’. I don't expect ya not to slip up from time to time. I'll still be here when you do. But ya gotta help me help you. Alright?"

"Mhm…” You nodded in agreement.

"That's my doll." He kissed the top of your head, leaving traces of face paint in your hair. "I love you, and all that sappy shit,” he muttered.

You let out a small breathy laugh and pressed a kiss to his chest before squeezing him tighter. "I love you, J. Thank you."

J scoffed, but a tiny smile tugged at his lips all the same. "Yeah, yeah. Listen, I don't need your thanks. I just need ya to be strong for me. Think you can do that?"

"I'll try my best.”

"Good. You do that and I'll take care of the rest. I got your back, toots.” He kissed your head and squeezed you again for good measure, his fingers traveling from your back, up to your cheek, grazing over your tear-stained skin. He stared at you affectionately as you nuzzled against his touch.

Looking up at him once more, you offered him the best smile you could muster in the moment. It was weak, but you were trying. And that was enough.

◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆

‣ If you enjoyed this fic, please like, comment, and/or reblog! Doing so not only keeps my blog alive, but also lets me know what you like and how to improve!

‣ If you’d like to join the taglist for L!Joker/Jack Napier, or be tagged in all of my future writings, let me know by sending me an ask/message!

I write as an adult, about adults, for adults -including all my SFW content. All the characters I write are 18+, or aged-up to be 18+. Please understand, this is not a space I carefully curate for minors’ eyes, though I am very mindful about tagging NSFW content as best as I can (you can choose to block these tags -listed below). I ask that all minors please respect my rules and do not personally interact with my NSFW content!

At the end of the day, you are in charge of your own media consumption. I know I cannot force you not to find ways to look at my blog/consume my content. Therefore, I trust that any minors that decide to view my content understand their own limits and will immediately stop consuming anything that brings them discomfort.

Please do not message/interact with me on a personal level -outside of liking/reblogging SFW posts and whatnot. For the sake of yours and my safety, I respectfully do not wish to be friends with you or interact with you personally in any way! I still wish you the very best, though!

Lastly, PLEASE do not lie about your age! It is so important that the adults you are interacting with know whether or not you’re truly an adult as well. Lying can not only put you in a lot of danger, but it also can get people in some serious trouble!

*Thanks for respecting these boundaries of mine! 😊

➡OTHER INFORMATION:

Please do not repost or translate my work onto any other sites (even with credit).

If you like my fics, please like, comment, and/or reblog! Doing so not only keeps my blog alive, but also lets me know what you like and how to improve!

I am always open to constructive feedback! I’m here to learn and grow as a writer, so anything would be greatly appreciated!

My fellow mutuals, don’t hesitate to send me an ask/message anytime! I’d love to talk and be friends! 💖

➡LINKS TO STUFF:

About Me

Main Masterlist

Request Info

➡TAGLISTS:

*I will not add you to any of my taglists if I do not see an adult age/age range or obvious adult age implication (i.e.- 18+/minors dni/etc) listed in your bio or pinned page! By asking to join my taglists, you’re confirming that you’re 18+!

» Taglists include all writings in relation to the character (one shots, series, headcanons, drabbles, etc.).

» If you would like to be added to the taglist for a particular character(s), please let me know by sending me an ask/message specifying which character(s) that is and let me know which of the following you’d prefer:

ALL writings for said character (including SFW + NSFW)

SFW content only (may include suggestive content)

» If you would like to be added to my forever taglist (be tagged in all my future writings), let me know by the same method above. Make sure to specify whether you’d prefer ALL content (including SFW + NSFW), or only SFW!

» You can opt out of any taglist by sending an ask/message asking to be removed!

➡TAGGING SYSTEM:

» These are the personal tags I use, in case you want to search for something specific or want to block them out.

» All tags in relation to a specific character/fandom will simply look like #character name or #film/show/etc name. I try my best to tag all my posts/reblogs accurately.

*Here is a tutorial on how to block/filter specific tags.

NSFW Tags:

k.smut (full nsfw content)

k.spicy (suggestive/soft nsfw content)

Other Tags:

kalistawrites (all my fics/writings)

k.masterlist (all of my masterlists)

k.drabbles/k.thoughts (all of my drabbles/thought pieces)

k.answers (responding to your asks)

k.requests (about/responding to requests)

k.info (important info/announcements)

k.recs (fics from others I recommend)

k.talks (posts about random/personal stuff)