The Joker x Reader Imagines 💚

To The Moon And Back

Trapped between the world of the dead and the world of the living, you couldn't move on without him. Just another ghost condemned to love beyond the grave, unable to find its way towards eternity. The Joker and his Queen were nothing more now than two souls belonging to different planes of existence, doomed to suffer until they could meet again. 

The moment you closed your eyes forever, something inside him shattered to pieces. It wasn't his heart; The Joker only wished he would have been that lucky. It was something else, buried deep inside for a very long time: feelings he thought he didn't have, ignored and neglected until it was too late.

The Queen of Gotham fought leukemia with the best treatments money can buy: J spared no expense in trying to find a cure for a disease that spread despite of all the efforts to contain the damage. He used to get so angry, blaming you for the worsening condition you couldn't control:

"Why aren't you getting better, hm?"

"You know why..." you tried to reason with The Joker despite the fact you realized he was acting like that in order to hide his sorrow.

"Are you doing it on purpose to annoy me?! Get better, do you hear me?" he would shout, frustrated when you just smiled and hugged him:

"Are you gonna miss me?"

"NO! You're a pain in the ass and I can't stand you!"

J would mess around with the cute scarf covering your bald head since he didn't know what else to do.

"Well that's too bad," you softly kissed his lips, sighing. "Because I love you to the moon and back, twice around the world plus this," and you showed him the small gap between your index finger and thumb, waiting for his usual reply. It never failed.

"What difference does this make?!" he pointed towards your fingers.

"It makes all the difference when you measure love," you whispered and he rolled his eyes.

"What a bunch of crap!" he would get worked up for nothing and it made you giggle.

You would stare at each other for a few moments, then you would bring up the sensitive topic:

"I really think I should move out and get my own place..."

J detested the subject, not his favorite. He didn't want to talk about it.

"Why do you wanna move out?" he pretended not to understand what you're aiming at.

"I'm getting worse and worse...You could come and visit me, but I believe it would be easier for both if you don't witness everything. I'll have nurses, doctors, my meds..."

"Shut up!" he would growl, yanking at your waist. "You're not moving out and if you mention about this one more time, I'll get really pissed!"

"You don't want to see me die...do you?" and the sadness in your voice halted his tirade. "Don't you want to remember me the way I was? When I was pretty?"