The clown prince of crime stared out the condensed window, admiring the gloomy weather along with the dusky lights of Gotham. It was his city, for he was the king. He returned to his desk, glancing at the endless pages of scattered jot down notes and various scribbles. "HA! HA! HA!" carved into the wood of his desk, along with the spray painted walls of his abode. His conscious was clear, for Y/N was dead. She sure had a pretty face, and she sure made a good hostage, but it was nothing more. The Joker ran his fingers through his green hair, frustrated at his lack of ideas. The crime rate was going down, and well someone had to keep it up. Sure, he could rob a few banks or steal some jewelery, but he needed something with a kick to it.A knock on his door interrupted his train of thought, Frost walking inside.
"What do I owe the pleasure, Frosty?" He grinned wildly, showing off his shimmering metal teeth.
"The girl survived." Frost stated. The Joker instantly got up, walking towards the door.
"Whadya mean she survived?" The smile wiped clean from his face. He prowled towards the door furiously.
The Joker marched down the stairs, Frost trailing behind him. Y/N's unconscious body sprawled on a couch. Several of his goons gathered around her, wrapping her injuries in layers of gauze and tape. "Enough." He barked out a single order and waved the guards crowded around you away. "I tried to be nice about this Frosty, but sometimes people just don't know when to die." He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a pistol, aiming it at Y/N's sleeping body.
At the faint sound of the gun being pulled, Y/N shot awake, scrambling to see the butt of a gun directly pointed at her temple.
Y/N POV
The all to familiar sound jolted you from your slumber. There stood the clown himself, except with a pistol at your forehead. "Hey! Woah!" You flinched, holding your hand up in the air blocking your face. Never in your life had you been more confused. Your head swirled with a mix of vibrant colors and illusions. You began to focus on the scenery around you. To your left, your arm had been gashed open, blood seeping into a gauze wrapped around the injury. Your leg had a wrap around it as well, along with your side. "What's going on?"
"What a pain in the ass." He rolled his eyes, looking down at you.
"So you're gonna shoot me then? Is that so?" You scoffed, furrowing your brow.
"Afraid so, doll. Don't exactly need you around here anymore."
"Then why don't you let me go?"
"What am I, a charity case?" he let out a mad laugh.
You narrowed your eyes at the rude remark. "I call your bluff, clown." Immediately you regretted what just spewed out of your mouth.
He began to laugh, his voice loudly bursting with energy throughout the house. "You call my bluff? You call my bluff?" He mocked you, swaying his hands in the air in his typical over exaggerating style. Your false sense of security was immediately replaced with fear. He threw his head back, releasing one more cackle as he returned to you sharply, cocking the gun in his hand.
He paused, his finger laying on the trigger. "You know what, Frosty? I think with all the trouble this one has put me through, she deserves a bit more than a bullet to the brain, dontcha think?" He clapped his hands as an idea ignited into his twisted brain. He reached into his pocket and yanked out a large dagger, metallic lights shimmering from it's shiny surface. Fear. All you knew was fear.
He prowled towards your weak body on the coach, knife gripped tightly in his hands. "Wait, now. Joker... Joker... JOKER." Your voice rose as you attempted to negotiate an ounce of sanity into him, but you knew that was far from possible. You scrambled up, attempting to move away from the attacker. Tears became to form in your eyes. You always said you weren't afraid to die in his presence. Anything could be worse than him. Yet in reality, you were heartbroken. You tricked Batman, you jumped off a building... all for him. You helped him with robberies, you unbuckled your seatbelt... all for him. The gun pointed at your head was but a small factor in your decisions in the past. You knew you would have done whatever he proclaimed... no matter the gun. When you woke up, you expected praise. You expected freedom. You expected him. Yet you awoke to a gun to your head, and your soon awaited death. You awoke to the anger in his eyes, and the pure uselessness he saw in you. You were used, used like a tissue. He thought he had killed you, and he didn't even mind. It was all one big joke.
You closed your eyes and let out a bloodcurdling screech. Your body shook as your vocal chords bursted like a flame. This was it. This was how Y/N would die. Away from home, away from family. No kids, no career... you hadn't even lost your virginity. Yet none of it mattered. Your life had been just another blob of clay in which the Joker had formed, toyed with, then squashed away. You would be but another body on his infinite list of murders. Here came the knife. You were ready for it.
He leaped over the couch and gripped one hand around your throat, the other yielding the sharp blade. You were ready. This was death. You could handle it. You kept your eyes shut, not bothering to gasp for breath under the Joker's tight hold. You were going to die. Yet your eyes fluttered open, eager to live your last few seconds on this planet. Your eyes intertwined immediately with his icy blue orbs, staring into the endless pool of colors and wild emotions. You didn't want to die. You just couldn't bear it. Yet there he was, hovering over you, knife hovering over your rapidly beating heart. He was grinning wildly, looking down at you as he was on top of you. Psychotic. You both were breathing heavily. Your instincts began to take over. You would live these last seconds to the fullest... madly. The tension between you rose as he looked into you, you looking into him.
He made a sudden movement and you flinched.
It was the death of you.
The movement that ended it all.
On this very day... after this very moment, Y/N was no more. Simply a fictional matter, lingering only in memories.
However the Joker didn't need a knife to end you. He didn't need any weapon to end you.
all it took was a kiss.
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CLIFFHANGER IM SORRYYYYYYY
ILL TRY TO WRITE LONGER CHAPTERS TOO BTW LIKE 1 OR 2K WORDS
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Property of Joker
Fanfic// (Jared Leto) Joker x Reader // POSSIBLE SPOILERS SO BE CA R E FUL ( suicide squad ) I TAKE REQUESTS ⚠ POSSIBLE ( poorly written ) SMUT SO WATCH OUT ⚠ ( I know we're all here for that though don't even deny it ) ______________________________...