by reason of insanity (JOKER X READER) ❌

chapter 1: new arrival

who do you think you are? ha ha ha, bless your soul- you really think you're in control

author's note: hi! here we are again! if you're here from my last joker fic, welcome back! i'm super excited for this story, and i hope you are too <3

some other things to know about this fic:
- reader is gender neutral
- this story has violence, swearing, terrible treatment of mentally ill people, various offensive statements, toxic relationships, death, mentions of smut, and probably some gore (you'll be warned beforehand)
- haven't decided on smut yet
- trigger warnings at the beginning of chapters that they're needed in

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"You've got to be kidding me," you said, looking up from the sheet of paper being shown to you through the bars of your cell to the guard holding it. His name was Banks, and he was a short, stocky guy with tanned skin, brown hair, and a beard. He was smirking at you obnoxiously as you tried to make sense of the words on the paper.

"Oh, it ain't a joke, L/N," he drawled. His vaguely Southern accent was grating on your nerves. "The warden himself signed off on it. Ain't like we got anywhere else to put the guy."

"How about fuckin' maximum security, huh? Where he should be?" You adopted his accent for a moment, mocking him with it. "Put him wherever you want, Banks, but you can't put him here."

"I can put anyone anywhere I goddamn please," Banks snapped. "Last time I checked, L/N, you ain't in charge of nothing around here. You're lucky I'm even giving you a heads-up."

Making enemies with guards was a bad idea, so you ducked your head and conceded the argument. "Yeah, yeah. Alright. Thanks."

"Sure. Once the evaluations get done, he's gonna bunk in here with you. Feeling lucky?"

"Not really," you said dryly. "Hey, Banks, can I see that paper?" When he hesitated, you said, "It's not like I can hurt anybody with it. Or myself. 'S a piece of paper, worst I'd get is a paper cut. Besides, he's gonna be my cellmate, I got a right to know 'bout him."

"What don't you know about him?" Banks asked, but slipped the papers through the bars anyway.

"Thanks," you called after him as he walked away. Then you sat cross-legged on the floor and stared down at the paper, barely reading any of it except for the name of the inmate who was going to be your cellmate at the very bottom.

Joker.

Everybody knew the Joker, of course. He was one of the craziest people to walk the face of the earth, and that was saying a lot, considering some of the people you'd run into here. He was violent, probably psychopathic, and incredibly dangerous. Every so often, one of the new patients admitted to Arkham would be a groupie or copycat of his.

And now, instead of being locked up somewhere so far down he'd never see the sun again, he was getting tossed in here with you.

But why? The place was full to bursting with nutjobs, sure, but all of Joker's previous cellmates were either dead or terrifyingly insane. You'd heard their gruesome stories, and you weren't looking to become one yourself.

You got up, pushing the paper aside and starting to pace. If Joker was in evaluations now, it wouldn't be too long before he got here. A day at the very most. Almost no time at all to figure out how you would survive him, and it terrified you.

You didn't sleep much that night, just sat on the bottom bed of the bunk bed in the cell and thought of nothing at all.

Around four in the morning, you jolted awake (when had you fallen asleep?) to the sound of your door opening. Two guards were there, shoving a figure in typical orange Arkham scrubs into the cell. In the faint light from the hallway, you saw a flash of green hair. You heard Banks's voice as the door slammed shut again-

"Good luck, L/N." And then the sound of his laughter, then silence once again.

The silence was unnerving, and you found yourself frozen, unable to move as you watched Joker climb to his feet just a foot and a half from you.

His laugh, when it came, was low and sinister. "So, you're the... unlucky one staying with me."

"I think you're staying with me," you said, too tired to watch your mouth. You closed your eyes, knowing full well it was a mistake. But you were tired, and scared, and Joker was probably going to kill you anyway.

He laughed again. "It's my asylum, sweetheart. I might be locked up, but I own this place."

Then you heard his footsteps, just three of them until you could feel his body heat through your uniform.

You opened your eyes, peering through the darkness at the Joker. You could barely see him, but what you could see was... startlingly attractive. His pale skin and green hair stood out in the dim light, and you could see various black tattoos littering his arms and chest. His smile glinted with a metallic sheen. And he was standing barely a foot away from you.

"Who are you?" He purred, gripping your chin and tilting your head back so he could see you. "You're a feisty one, aren't you- and pretty, too."

"I think I'm going to like you."