The Joker x Reader Imagines 💚

Monsters

Monsters are made, not born. Monsters forget they were once loved, nothing in their mind besides darkness and vengeance against the world. Monsters know no remorse, regret or sorrow. Monsters exist inside every person. And they will never disappear.

As soon as you enter the office with your three year old daughter, The Joker signals his henchmen to leave. After the last one exits and the door closes, he gives you a mean glare, definitely not excited about your presence.

"I thought I told you to stay away!" J sneers, tapping his fingers on the glass desk. "Why are you here, hm?" the annoyed tone makes you even more self-conscious about your situation.

"I...I need help..." you gather the courage to speak while Evie clings to your leg, scared by the strange looking man. You protectively hold her close to you with one hand, hoping she won't start crying: that would certainly irritate The King of Gotham to the point of kicking you both out before you can explain yourself. "It's not for me, it's for my little girl," you quickly add when The Joker rolls his eyes.

"Oh, you need money?" he sarcastically smirks but you know what that smile hides.

"My daughter is sick," you inform, taking advantage of his momentary silence. "Her medications are very expensive; I work and my insurance covers some costs, but not everything. I only..." and you pause, gulping. "...I only have medications for one more week before she runs out and I don't know what I'm going to do. Can you please help me? I'll pay you back," the desperate mother pleads.

"How? Are you gonna sell your body on the streets?" The Joker bluntly asks.

You really don't want to be here; it's so humiliating and you feel out of place.

"I'll find a way," you whisper, caressing Evie's bald head.

The Joker at least realizes you're not lying; your child does look sick: shaved head, scrawny and pale, wearing a yellow summer dress that accentuates her frail frame.

How would he know how many times you skip meals in order for your daughter to have enough to eat? Or how you struggle to pay the bills and rent, every month one step away from being homeless? How would he know how much you hate being here asking for money when it's clear he won't lift a finger to help? You are truly out of options, otherwise you would have gladly used another source.

"Don't you have a boyfriend or a husband to share the burden with?" J huffs, interrogating the hopeless parent. "Where's her father?"

He sees the tears coming down your cheeks and your voice breaks when you answer:

"My husband...passed away... a while ago."

"Well..." The Joker pretends to debate on the reply he received," ...one mouth less to feed, right?"

You sniffle, reaching for your daughter and lift her up in your arms: your only comfort after the cruel remark.

"Let's go baby," you kiss her forehead before she wraps her tiny arms around your neck.