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Since Joker is about a man turning into a villain after being battered and bruised by society too many times, then I present to you its reverse : ARTHUR (2021). A romantic comedy where a criminal mastermind tries his best to be a lawful member of society after falling in love with Sophie Dumond during a bank heist.
6
I’m the only person in any Joker screening that I have seen… who laughs maniacally when Phoenix says the line, “I fucked up..” to the guy behind the screen at Arkham. It can’t be helped. The delivery of that line is genius, and it will always make me laugh, or even years from now, smile. It’s just how he says it. It’s like one of those jokes that only I can get, or something… lol. Everybody else is sitting there, stoic, maybe confused what someone thought was funny there, maybe scared, who knows… lol. It can’t be helped. You wouldn’t get it. DeNiro laughing at Problem Child in the movie theater in Cape Fear is what it feels like.
0‘Til Death Do Us Part
Chapter 6
Prompt by: https://sagyunaro.tumblr.com/post/188879565007/prompt-for-anyone-wishing-to-write-it
Pairing: Arthur Fleck/Joker x Female Reader
Warnings: Sexual Content, Anger Outbursts, Injuries, Blood
Summary: You were getting used to your new life and job, as you noticed people following you. Arthur can’t stop dreaming of you and you have a shot-lived conversation with Sophie.
* // READER’S POV // *
You just left from your first official day at your new workplace. It was a nice beautiful coffee shop, you discovered the other day and you really loved the rustic atmosphere, the jazzy music and the heavy scent of grounded coffee in the cafe.
You went there a few times until you noticed, they had a job offer hanging by the entrance door and applied immediately without consulting Mrs Parker.
It felt good, so you did it. You didn’t need the approval of anyone for doing, what made you happy. She was a nice woman, but you noticed how she kept walking on eggshells around you and you hated it more than anything else.
She was probably pitying you and there was no way you were going to reinforce her behavior, by acting like you couldn’t do anything on your own.
Your boss was a guy in his forties, dressed nice, telling you he was glad he found somebody for the job that didn’t just leave school, like most of the other applicants obviously did, bringing no experience or even the ability of friendly and polite behavior to the workplace. He was obviously very dedicated in keeping his coffee shop’s pleasant environment.
Your colleagues were all pretty nice, no assholes, as far as you could tell after your first day there. Most of them were women your age or above, only two or three guys, a few talking about their families, others about hanging out together. You felt really enthusiastic about the atmosphere there, hoping it would stay like that.
The payment was good enough, that next month you could not only afford paying your rent and support your household all by yourself, you could also buy a bit of furniture and clothes.
Paying off the debt Mrs Parker provided would take a few months, although you set the monthly ammount to pay back really high already. It wasn’t perfect by any means, but things were starting to look better now.
It was early evening and you walked down about four blocks, when you noticed that two guys had been following you for some time.
They looked shady, wearing sunglasses and dark clothes. You doubted they were very good at shadowing somebody, it couldn’t really get any more obvious than how they did it.
They kept their distance to you and you figured to be absolutely sure about their agenda, you’d walk a circle around the block. Your anxiety was building, although the situation didn’t seem like they wanted to approach you.
The streets were full of people at this time, most people going home from work, it was unlikely somebody would dare to harm you all out in the open in front of so many people. But then again, this was Gotham, one could never be sure.
They were still following you, even if you were going nowhere. You tried not to look at them directly. Your heartbeat was starting to race and somehow you just wanted to run.
You didn’t. Instead you picked out the next best place to go inside, finding a Chinese restaurant that offered full service and take out. You wanted to see if they’d follow you inside or stop in front of the door.
Noticing, how hungry you were, you decided to actually get some takeout then, as a reward for having mastered the first day at your new job, choosing fried rice with chicken.
Waiting for your order, you took a look outside, smiling at some kids passing by and throwing a quick glance at the two suspicious guys, actually standing on the opposite side of the street, having a smoke. They talked to each other, obviously waiting for you to come back out. Bingo.
Plotting on how to get rid of them, you decided on looking for an exit in the back of the restaurant.
You asked politely, if you could use their toilet and the woman working behind the counter didn’t mind at all, giving you the food in a plastic bag and showing you the way to the guest bathroom.
When she left, you took a careful glance outside the hallway, to avoid anyone noticing you were sneaking around.
The restaurant was actually pretty nice, not rundown at all, so it wasn’t too difficult to sneak past the closed door to the kitchen and find an exit sign at the end of the hallway.
Opening the door and leaving the two guys behind on the street, you hoped they would wait their asses off in the cold.
Your pulse was still racing. Your little adventure obviously gave you an adrenaline rush, you felt giddy and proud of yourself for being able to escape their view this effectively.
You wondered, if you had done something like this before? It felt really familiar. And of course not anyone just panics when being followed like that, but usually people would, right?
You felt like you were a little too calm in that kind of situation and the strange familiarity of it all, left you wondering.
Walking down a back alley, you were asking yourself once again, what happened before the accident, what your life might have been like. It made you kind of sad.
But how could you be sad, if you didn’t even know, what you were missing? You just felt like something important had been there before and was missing now and thinking about stuff like this always left you feeling like there was a big hole in your chest.
Noticing steps behind you, you turned around and spotted the two guys. Again. Really?
It was slowly getting dark outside and they had taken off their sunglasses. Taking a good look at their faces, memorizing them, you turned around, hearing them behind you, following still, although they had been spotted. Amateurs.
While walking, you put the food inside your backpack, putting it back on and zipping up the cheap jacket you wore. You couldn’t use anything bothering you with what you planned to do in a second.
Turning around the next corner, leaving their sight, you started sprinting.
You were wearing shoes, that didn’t produce a whole lot of sound hitting the pavement. That would buy you some extra time to get away from them until they noticed, you were bolting.
You tried to take back alleys. Running through the crowds on the main roads would have little effect, only hindering your speed.
A headache started forming behind your temples and your back didn’t feel too good either. The doctors told you to avoid physical strain in the coming weeks. Well. Getting away was more important than worrying about your still healing body.
You must have ran a few blocks by now, not knowing where the fuck you were, you didn’t recognize anything. But at least you couldn’t hear them anymore, so you stopped, catching your breath while leaning on the next best wall.
You felt like shit. You should avoid doing this again, your spine was aching horribly and your head throbbed.
You walked out on the street, still keeping your eyes open in case they’d catch up to you again, as unlikely as that was.
It was fairly dark now, and suddenly it started raining. Great. Now you had about enough with this day, sighing heavily and you started to go on, wandering.
You tried to estimate where you were, to start your way back home as soon as possible, but you felt completely lost.
* // ARTHUR’S POV // *
*
‘Arthur… No matter what happens, you’re going to be okay. I’m here with you’, you said with a soft voice.
He was laying on the bed his mother used to sleep in, she was in the hospital now. He had just come back from her being admitted.
You sat right next to him on the edge of the bed, slowly stroking his back. He felt the warmth of your hand through his clothes.
'It was my fault.’, he said in a broken whisper.
'Darling, no! It wasn’t your fault, your mother has been ill for a long time, please don’t blame yourself for it.’, you said, pulling his shoulder back so you could take a look at his face.
'You know it all happened because of me! The police officers came here to talk to me. And I wasn’t there. It IS all my fault. She wouldn’t have had to talk to them, if I had been here.’, he explained in a frustrated and sad tone, tears rolling down his face.
'Arthur, this isn’t…’
'No, Y/N. You don’t understand. I killed those men in the subway and this is the result, it’s all coming back to me and people around me are suffering for it!’, he sobbed, now having sat up to look at you directly, gesticulating wildly.
'No, I want you to stop doing this to yourself!’, you said, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him.'They attacked you and they were horrible people. I’d never want anyone to beat on you and I feel better, now that I know you can stand up for yourself! You did what you had to do and I’m glad I got you back safe, instead of being beaten all to hell and hiding from me what happened, like you did any other time!’, you practically yelled, looking infuriated and insulted.
He was speechless after what you told him.
Yes, he had tried to hide his injuries more times than not, never wanting to tell you how often people beat on him. He felt weak, like a loser and he didn’t want you to worry.
You had found out almost every time, seeing it in the way he moved. Then you always treated his injuries without commenting on it, helping him with anything he needed.
'I wish I had taken the beating instead of my mother being in the hospital because of what I did.’, he said with a frown, his eyebrows furrowing, eyes casting down to his lap.
You looked at him angrily, at a loss of words. Then you stood up and bolted out of the bedroom.
Anxiety bubbled up in his chest, along with a laughing fit. Giggling, he threw off the blanket and stood up, running after you, feeling like he was about to choke on all the nervous energy inside of him.
He couldn’t take it, if you left him right now.
'Y/N… Please! C-Can you wait for a s-second?’, he managed between bursts of laughter, he tried to control desperately, while you were already putting on your jacket.
He hated, that the fits always tended to happen when he could use them least. It was a curse.
'For what??’, you yelled, tears in your eyes, looking at him desperately. 'To watch you crumble and take everything honest and strong about you away, just to put others first all the time? Darling, I love how caring and sensitive you are, but it makes me SO ANGRY when you blame everything that happens on yourself. You don’t deserve that. And I hate that you said, you should have taken that beating! I’m not going to listen to this any longer!’, you yelled, tears rolling down your flushed cheeks.
He looked at you in shock, never having seen you so angry and shaken before. Then as you turned around to leave, he grabbed your hand and pulled you back, still giggling, looking at the floor.
'Arthur, let go. I will leave now. I won’t listen to you talk like that about MY HUSBAND! You don’t even realize how much it’s hurting me, when you say things like that! I’m glad, you killed those guys, I wouldn’t want to have it any other way, not for your mother or anyone else in this fucking world! You’re all I have!!’, you yelled, trying to pull your hand out of his grasp.
But he wouldn’t let you. He held your wrist in a vice grip, an utter calmness washing over him all of a sudden, the laughing stopped and his breathing evened out.
You were scared. And you were right.
He didn’t consider, how you might feel about what he had said, being too lost in his own guilt and sorrow. He failed you as your husband. This, you standing in front of him angry and sobbing, was his doing.
And he had to make it right.
'Y/N. I want you to stay.’, he said in a confident tone of voice, his grip tightening. You looked at him in irritation.
'Arthur, I swear to God, let go of me. I will leave now.’, you said, getting angrier by the second.
'No.’, he said, looking straight into your eyes, a determined expression on his face.
You tried to wiggle out of his grasp, failing miserably. Then you approached him, shoving him against the wall in your struggle.
He lifted your hand up, spinning you skillfully, as if this was a dance, so your back met his chest. His other arm coming around you as well to hug you tightly, not being able to move.
'Arthur, what are you doing??’, you questioned, out of breath from struggling so hard.
He didn’t even know. He hated getting physical. And he felt horrible, keeping you from leaving.
But he couldn’t make it up, if you were gone. He couldn’t let you leave like this.
Lifting you up from the ground, he carried you back into the bedroom, while you complained loudly and kicked your legs. Releasing his grip and shoving you onto the bed, he closed the door behind him hastily.
You looked at him in shock, completely dumbfounded by his reaction. It took you a second to react, then you crawled to the edge of the bed, attempting to get up.
Either this would work, or he would regret it horribly.
He approached you fast, pushing you down on the bed by your shoulders, got on top of you, straddling your waist and leaning down to kiss you passionately. His hands were holding your face now, not gentle, but not painful either.
Suddenly, you started wiggling under him, taking your hand up to the collar of his shirt, grabbing it hard. You pushed him away with a gasp.
Your eyes were wide open, lips parted and swollen, the tears drying on your cheeks. One seconds, two. The both of you staring at each other heatedly.
His lips parted to say something, explain himself, apologize, literally anything.
But before he could start speaking, you pulled him back in, a hand grabbing at his neck, kissing him hard.
He moaned into you, your taste was driving him insane. Every thought of apologies forgotten now.
This was different. He felt different. And you obviously liked it. Usually you two making love was intimate and soft and slow, there has rarely been a spark like this.
The last time something similar happened, was after he killed the three guys in the subway and came home to practically jump you and you went right along with it.
Testing the limits, he worried your lips with his teeth, biting down hard and pulling your hair, which made you moan and close your eyes in bliss.
He grabbed your jaw roughly now to turn your head sideways, allowing him access to your neck.
His other hand was wandering lower, touching the curves, hidden beneath your jacket, eagerly.
He heard you whine and gasp beneath him, baring your neck. You let his hot tongue caress the sensitive skin on the side of your neck, sucking marks into it.
He loved leaving marks on you. He wanted more, so he bit down on your neck hard.
It made you writhe in pain and pleasure and he never expected to enjoy seeing you like that so much.
You moved your hand down from his hair to his back, desperately pulling on his shirt, the other one wandering to squeeze his thigh and inching closer to his crotch, until your hand touched him through his strained pants.
It had him growling.
'A-Arthur…’
*
He woke up with a loud gasp, breathing heavily.
'Shit!!’, he yelled, practically jumping up off the couch and needing only a second to settle on what to do.
He flipped over the couch table. It wasn’t enough. He ran to the kitchen, pulling out the cabinet drawers forcefully, then going back to the living room, deciding to thrash the couch table completely.
He kicked it hard a few times, the wooden pieces coming apart, which he took and threw around the apartment. Then he took the plate of the table, lifting it up and crashing it down onto the floor violently, until it broke.
His breathing labored, he sat down on the floor, leaning his back on the side of the couch.
These dreams were killing him. It’s gotten so much worse, since he escaped Arkham. The drugs they gave him there were horrible, but they usually tended to knock him out cold at night. No dreams. Just plain black unconsciousness. He was missing that a little.
He had taken a nap in bright daylight, not having been able to sleep that good the past night. Now the sun was already gone, leaving behind a dark and rainy world outside.
Looking down at his legs, he noticed his right foot was bleeding. He had probably stepped into one of the shards on the floor, left behind by the last resident a long time ago.
Also he noticed he was sporting a massive hard-on, begging for attention.
'Yeah, right. Absolutely not.’, he said to himself. He wouldn’t do anything about it. Not here, not now and not alone. It would only frustrate him even further, thinking about you…
Then he got up, being careful not to put too much weight on his cut foot, and noticed one of the wooden floorboards sticking out weirdly.
He knelt down to inspect it more closely, seeing some plastic foil beneath the wood.
Taking a piece of wood broken off of the table, he worked the floorboard up completely, only to be met with the sight of a big stash of money, wrapped in a plastic back.
He laughed loudly and freely, the situation being too fucking ridiculous not to.
Still giggling, he pulled the money out and started counting. It was more than enough.
Luck was on his side it seemed and he figured to put it to good use. It was time to get going.
*// READER’S POV // *
You walked around in circles, swearing you had passed that building you were at already.
You had no idea where you were and how to get back to the lively parts of Gotham. And you were drenched from the rain. This was horrible.
You’ve been walking for almost an hour now and it led to nothing. The buildings around you were obviously apartment buildings.
Suddenly, one of them catched your eye. It seemed familiar somehow. The building’s facade looked rundown and there was graffiti everywhere.
Your head started throbbing again. As if you were in some kind of trance, you walked up the few steps to the buildings entrance and thought nothing, only static in your head.
Opening the door, the feeling of familiarity became worse. Standing inside the hallway, you noticed the mailboxes. There was an elevator as well. Apartments on both sides of you. You heart rate was picking up and you started feeling dizzy.
Suddenly, you heard steps approaching from behind you.
Turning around, you saw a woman approaching, her hair was in an updo and she looked about the same age as you, her dark caramel skin glowing in the neon lights.
She had a little girl with her, maybe her daughter. She was laughing at something the little girl said, holding her hand.
That was a beautiful smile. And somehow it made you angry. Why were you angry at someone being happy? What was wrong with you? You continued staring at them, while you started to feel more and more nervous.
The woman stopped mid-step when she noticed you and met your gaze, the smile instantly dying on her face, her eyes widening. She seemed… scared? Worried? You couldn’t really place it.
'Oh, h-hi!’. She stuttered, faking a smile, that was just a touch too wide, not reaching her eyes.
'Hello.’, you were at a loss of words at what you felt while looking at her.
'Uhm, you haven’t been around in a long time. H-How have you been?’, she asked, seemingly anxious, trying to make her way past you slowly, keeping some distance. Also she kept her little girl somewhat behind her, pulling her close.
'What?’, you asked dumbfoundedly. Did she know you?
Suddenly the headache got so much worse, you wanted to scream.
'What are you talking about?!’, you practically yelled, sudden anger bursting out of you while a hand moved up to press into your temple, easing the pain a little.
The woman jumped a little at your loud voice. 'Sorry, never mind!’, she answered in a shriek, quickly making her way to the elevator, pulling her child with her.
You were left standing in the hallway, feeling dizzy and frustrated and angry.
You had no idea what this was all about. You had to go home. Right now.
You practically ran out the door, onto the street. Being fed up with not knowing where you were, you stopped one of the very few cars passing by, right in the middle of the street, asking which direction the inner city was.
It startled the driver, but you got what you wanted and didn’t stop running, until you were back on safe grounds.
The streets began to look more lively, more cars driving in the streets and as soon as you spotted a street name you recognized you felt relief wash over you.
You were exhausted and more than a little disturbed by the little encounter you had with that woman.
Going home, you remembered, that you still had the takeout in the backpack and felt glad you had it. You weren’t going to be able to manage anything else than eat and go to bed as soon as you were home, that was for sure.
You felt like the woman was a danger to you, somehow. And you sure as hell would go back to see her again. But not today.
__________________________________________
I hope you enjoyed!😘
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11Footage captured of Heath Ledger behind the scenes during filming of The Dark Knight (2008)
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