☆ After getting fired from his job, Arthur takes the subway home. He witnesses 3 men picking on a young woman.. but she isn't just any woman. Is she...? No.. is that (y/n) Franklin? From the Murry Show?☆ (Hell yeah, there's smut)
Warning: highly mature
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Arthur slumped down on the harsh subway seat, eyes staring forward as the train began to move. He wanted nothing more than to go home, take a shower and scream into the couch pillow.
His job. His job that he loved. Gone.
Arthur leaned back against the seat and let his hands fall into his lap. How humiliating. What was he going to tell his mother? She would insist on contacting the Waynes. Like they would do anything.. What was Penny and Arthur to them? Nobodies.
Arthur leaned his head back and closed his eyes, trying to push today's event far from his mind. He knew better than to trust Randall. He knew better.. but he knew his intentions were harmless, even if he teased him relentlessly.
"Hey, come on, sweetcheeks. Have a french fry." Arthur paid to mind to the people at the end of the cart he was in. Not many people in the subway tonight, still, he wished there were none. "Hey.. you're that host from that show. What was it.. ah! The Murry Show!" The guy laughed. "What's a celebrity like you doing down here? Shouldn't you be home with daddy?"
Arthur couldn't help but sneak a look to the side of the cart. Four people. Three men, and a woman. Wait. Was that? Holy shit. (Y/n) Franklin was sitting there, her coat held tightly to her body, her head down to hide herself from the men. The hell was she doing down here? And alone..
"Listen, if you're wanting a autograph, that's fine. I'm really just trying to get home, please." The desperation in her voice made it clear that she didn't want to be bothered. Was she lost? Someone of her status wouldn't be caught dead in these subways, or downtown for that matter. The woman glanced over at Arthur, a pleading look in her eyes.
Arthur felt a leap in his chest, like his heart stopped. This is (Y/n) Franklin. In his eyes, the most beautiful woman alive.
"Goooood evening, everyone! Welcome to the Murry Franklin Show! I'll be your hostess, (Y/n) Franklin!"
Arthur and his mother sat in the bedroom and looked at the screen. Their favorite show. It was comedic, classic and featured what Arthur could only describe as the only light in Gotham. (Y/n) was perfect in every sense of the way. She held her head up high, always engaged with the audience just right and her smile.. God, her smile. What Arthur would give to be the man to make her genuinely laugh.
There was no hiding it. The Franklin girl was her father's daughter. She had his charisma, his charm, his witty mind.. but she sometimes didn't have a filter on that mouth. Strong opinionated and spoke her mind quite often, gaining a disagreement between her father and some of the guests.
"I remember when she wasn't on the show. Back then the show was much simpler." Penny stated, stirring a spoon in her soup. Arthur looked at his mother. He knew she didn't care for the hostess much. It's not that she hated the girl, it was just that Penny believed (Y/n) was on the show because she's daddy's little princess. "You know she's only on the show cause she's pretty."
"It's not just about looks, Mother. She makes some pretty interesting conversation, don't you think?"
"I suppose she does.."
Arthur gazed back at the television screen. God, she was so elegant, so heavenly. Perfect. He couldn't hide it. He was in love with (Y/n) Franklin.
'What I'd give to have a guy like you for my daughter.' He thought he could Murry say to him.
"Hey, he's just tryin to be nice, lady." One of the men butted in, gesturing towards his friend. "You're known to talk alot on stage, saying how you think Thomas Wayne is overrated.." The man sat beside her and laid a hand on her thigh. She jerked away and slide down the subway seat, but the third man sat beside her, blocking her exit.
"Sounds like you're all bark, but no bite." He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her into his chest. She pushed against him and yelled for him to let her go.
At this point, Arthur feels the tickle in the back of his throat. God no, not here..
It's pointless. Arthur can't hold back his snickering anymore. His quiet chuckle soon starts to become an uncontrollable fit of laughter. Pained laughter.
The sudden laughter causes the four in the back of the cart to turn their attention to the clown. The men exchange confused looks at one another before standing to their feet and slowly making their way towards the man in pain.
"What's so funny, bud?" One of the men asked, hanging off one of the subway poles like a dance. (Y/n) looked at Arthur between the gaps of the three men. They don't make eye contact but she can see that Arthur isn't laughing on purpose or to distract the men for her sake. This was something he couldn't stop.
Arthur shook his head, his strained voice trying to get words out. He waved at the three, trying to dismiss himself. One of the men smirked at the clown and started singling an unfamiliar tune. Soon enough the other two joined, sitting down on each side of Arthur. Trapping him as the third kneeled in front of him and tearing the lime green wig from his head.
"I'll ask you again, old man. What's so fuckin funny?"
"I-I.." A forced sentenced left Arthur, one that he repeated often to those who questioned his outbursts. "I have a condition." He fell into spits of laughter again, reaching into his bag to fish out a dismissive card.
One of the men yanked the bag from him, causing Arthur to stand in protest. The other man quickly took a hold of Arthur and pulled him back. The situation now became dire.
(Y/n) shifted in her seat, once uneasy, now terrified. Were these men about to beat this just as frightened clown?
"Leave him alone!" She stood up and stormed up to the french dry man. She shoved him away from Arthur, causing the guy to stumble a bit. The one holding Arthur's bag tossed the satchel aside and grabbed (y/n)'s arm.
"That's not very nice, sweetcheeks." He yanked her easily into one of the subway seats, keeping her seat with his foot on her chest, pressing hard. She cried out, clawing at his pants leg.
Arthur couldn't allow her to put herself in harm's way. She wasn't suppose to be here. She should be at home, safe. The fact that she was being held down by some asshole made Arthur fume. Angered by the action, he leaned back into the guy that bound him and kicked the man off of (y/n). The man fell into the other and they both stumbled to the ground. The kick forced both Arthur and his captor to fall to the ground. Arthur was quick and made it to his feet. He turned to the hostess and rushed to her.
"Hey. Hey, are you okay?" He asked gently, checking to see if she had any injuries. All she did was nod rapidly, obviously still distressed.
"Woow, don't we have a feisty one here.." The man who had offered french fries, shoved Arthur away before delivering a punch to his face. Knocking him to the ground. (Y/n) cried out as her only ally was taken down and was repeatedly kicked by the others.
"Stop! Stop it!" She yelled, getting up and hitting the back of one of the men. The french fry man turned to face her and wiped his backhand across her cheek. She too fell to the ground.
"Shut it, bitch." He went to continue the kicking spree but before he knew it, he was looking down the barrel of a gun.
Bang
The man fell back, his blood painting the subway wall behind him. He caught the bullet right between the eyes.
Arthur didn't know what came over him. He always took the beatings. Always let them beat him. But today. Today was too much. Before he knew it, he turned the gun on the man who held (y/n) down, slogging two bullets in his chest.
Bang
Bang
By now he could vaguely hear (y/n)'s shrieks overshadowed by the ringing in his ears. His vision was blurred a bit, but it didn't keep him from perfect aim. The last man went to flee the cart. Arthur landed a shot to the back of his upper leg.
Bang
The guy was screaming for help. He was lucky that the train slowed down before coming to a stop. He was forcing the doors open and limping away towards the station stars. Arthur was quick on his tail, aiming and shooting the man in the back.
Bang
The man fell onto the stairs, yelling for anyone to aid him. Not tonight. Tonight no one was in the station. Just his luck. Still in a fit of rage Arthur continued to shoot the man until his gun clicked in blanks.
Bang
Bang
--
--
--
Arthur lowered the now empty gun. His hands were shaking, adrenaline pumping. He wasn't thinking straight. He knew what he did was wrong but he argued that these assholes had it coming. You don't hit women.
The clown took a shaky breath before turning. His stuff was still on the train. He had to grab them before it took off again. Arthur went to get back on the train but promptly stopped in his tracks when he spotted her.
(Y/n) stood on the platform as the train passed on, his bag in her hand. She hesitantly walked Arthur's way, setting down the bag by his feet and backed away. Arthur could see the fear in her eyes. She was afraid of him. He just killed three guys. Right in front of her.
They didn't exchange any words. They were both breathing heavily, shaking. They were scared of eachother. Scared he would use the gun on her. Scared she would scream and run.
Arthur reached down and grabbed his bag, shoving the unloaded gun in his waistband, turned his heel and booked it out of there. He left the scared, rich girl standing by the subways stairs. Alone.
He ran down the trainstaion until he reached one of the restrooms, running inside and letting the door close behind him. Arthur tossed the bag aside and leaned against the poor, panting.
He didn't know what he was doing or how to move on from it. He had a witness to his crime. She was his witness. She watched him murder those men. Sure, it was self defense but he could have let the last guy go.. but he didn't..
Arthur let out a frustrated groan and slammed his fist against the door. He really messed up now. She imagined she'd run to the police, tell them he murdered those men and it wouldn't be long till they found him. God, what about his mother. His poor, disabled mother. She would drop dead if she heard about what he did.
"Fuck!"
He slammed in fist into the door again, this time splitting skin.
Arthur looked at his bleeding knuckles and let out a soft chuckle. Like bleeding knuckles was the worst thing that happened today.
He lost his job. Once again got the shit beaten out of him. He shot three assholes. And not just that, but the woman he's dreamed about watched him do it and will most go to the police. He's done for.
Arthur walked to the mirrors of the bathroom and looked at himself. His clown makeup was smeared on his cheek, he had a bleeding nose and a cut on his brow. He looked like shit. How was he going to get home looking like this?
Arthur froze when he heard the restroom door open suddenly. In a panic he pulled the gun from his waistband and pointed at whoever walked in.
He met those eyes again.
Her eyes.
Arthur immediately lowered the gun, showing that he was no harm to to.
(Y/n) let the door close behind her and stood less than a few feet from the clown. He could tell she was tense and yet she still followed him? Why?
"It's uh.. it's not loaded.." he tossed the gun to the floor and held his hands up in defense. He gave her a weak smile.
"I figured.." She was playing with the fabric on her coat. "I.. I just wanted to say thank you.."
"T-Thank you?" Arthur repeated. She followed him, not knowing if he was dangerous, to thank him? She nodded.
"I don't know what they would have done to me if you weren't one that train.."
"What were you doing there alone?" Arthur couldn't help but blurt out. People like her should know better than to come to the dark streets of Gotham alone. She should have known better.
"I.. was taking a walk.." She began, her eyes trailing around the disease infested bathroom walls. "I just needed to get out of the house. I couldn't stand being hobbled in there all day." She went on. Arthur would've have rolled his eyes and left her there. Was she really complaining about how good she had it? If she had been any one else, he would have walked away. But since it was her, just her. He listened. "Oh god, I must sound like a brat.." (Y/n) mentally slapped herself as she went on. Arthur shook his head.
"N-No! You're not.." He took a step forward at an attempt to shut her self insult down. "I understand what's like, ya know?"
He couldn't believe he was talking to her. Face to face. It was actually her. Right? Like, she wasn't just another one of his daydreams. She was real.
They shared a moment of silence. They weren't sure how to go on from this. Clearly, she didn't from him. She was scared, but not necessarily of him. No. (Y/n) felt safe around the clown. He did save her after all.
"You should get home.." Arthur cleared his throat, his gaze falling to the floor. "A girl like you doesn't belong in a place like this.."
"I-I can go wherever I please." (Y/n) stated, sensing he was trying to put her in her place. Even if scared, she had to show she was strong. Arthur gave a hushed chuckle, confusing her.
"Yeah, but.. this is the men's bathroom." He pointed to the sign on the door. (Y/n) looked to see the sign. Graffiti covered the sign but she could see under the chipped paint that he was right. Embarrased that she came off as hostile, she laughed. Arthur gazed at her. Her laugh. Her cute, innocent laugh. His chest felt like to was going to burst and he felt the burning in the back of his throat again. Fuck. Don't do this now.
(Y/n) looked back at the clown, amused. She had been with plenty of men before. Plenty of privileged, stuck up men. They were all the same. Assholes.
She mentally scolded herself for the thoughts that followed. The clown before her... caught her eye. Yes, he was dressed as a damn clown and was bleeding but she couldn't take her attention away from him. His laughter back at the station, his intent to protect her from those men when she was pinned down.. he shot those men. Shot them dead.
"You killed those men.." She finally spoke. The statement cause Arthur to strain back his pained laugh. How he hated it so much. He couldn't hold it back any longer. He would've passed out by holding his breath for too long. His cackling echoed in the bathroom like a haunting.
"I know! I know!" Arthur leaned again the bathroom sinks, his head in his hands. He could feel the warm tears run down his smeard makeup. He just kept messing up. "I would've just.. I would've just let them beat me but then..then he hit you.." Arthur shook his head and he looked up at the woman. Was she getting closer? He could've sworn she was at the door a moment ago. Now she was inches from him. "He hit you and that wasn't.. it wasn't okay.."
Arthur wept in his hands. Hands that were stained with those men's blood. Forever reminding him what he did. But then he felt a pair of hands lay upon his own. He flinched, nearly himself back. (Y/n) stood before him, holding his hands and gently pulling them away from his face.
What was she doing? This was unlike her. She should have ran. She should run to the police, report these murders. Yet she found herself comforting the murderer in the disgusting bathroom of the train station. She knew it was wrong. She knew.
But there something all top exciting about it.
A life of always smiling for the camera, always dolled up for ratings, always on display..
(Y/n) Franklin was tired of always being the trophy daughter.
She wanted to live.
She pulled the clown into a kiss.
Arthur felt frozen in fear that he finally snapped and had lost all of his reality. This wasn't real. There was no way this was real. Real or not, Arthur felt himself take control again. He wrapped his arms around (Y/n) and leaned her back so all her weight was in his embrace. He deepened the kiss, catching her off guard and causing her to make a noise of excitement. Not sure if he hurt her or not Arthur broke away and looked into her eyes. God, those eyes..
"What's your name?" She asked, still in his hold. Her fingers danced on his cheeks, eyes signaling that she wanted more of who he was.
Arthur knew he couldn't give his real name. Not after what happened. It would be stupid of him.
"Carnival.." He muttered. (Y/n) wasn't convinced that was his real name but at the moment she didn't care. She just need something to scream out when he bent her over.
(Y/n) leaned into another kiss, raising her leg up so it rest on his waist. Arthur didn't need to be told where this was going. He had seen the movies enough to know when a girl want you, she's going to have you. Timid however, Arthur gently holds her leg up, his hand easily gripping the bare thigh under the short dress she was wearing.
"Wait. Wait.." He pulled away, cautious. "This... isn't real, is it?" Arthur backed away from her, expecting her to just vanish. She gave him a worried look. A condition. She remembered him saying something about it on the train. Mental illness. Shit. Guilt passed by her thoughts for a moment but the feeling between her legs easily overlooked it. She was use to getting what she wanted. She wanted this clown and she knew he wanted her just as bad. "I mean.. you can't actually want this.. want me.."
(Y/n) started untying the expensive coat around her, letting it slide off her shoulders and onto the disgusting floor. Underneath Arthur pondered why she would simply 'take a walk' in something like this. Heels, a velvet black dress that hugged her curves and man... did they push up her breasts and present them like they were prizes to be won. Arthur's eyes glanced away, embarrassed that he felt his pants become tight around his groin. Fuck, this can't be real.
"Oh, I'm real." (Y/n)'s voice drew him back. He backed up against the sink again, almost afraid. She stood before him, her body pressed against his, making her breasts nearly burst from her dress. She grabbed his hand and placed it on her breast. She smirked, her eyes screaming at Arthur to bend her over the diseased counter and fuck her."You can give it a squeeze, just to be sure."
With that, Arthur did as told and ever so lightly gave her breast a pinch. The woman pressed against him gave a moan. It rang through his head like angels singing.
"Truth is... I got stood up.." (Y/n) admitted. "I was suppose to meet him for dinner... but he never showed.." She stated, her hands running down Arthur's chest, stopping at his belt. That explained why she was dressed so nicely. What Arthur would have given to take her on a date. However... it seemed like it was fate for them to meet tonight. Arthur wouldn't complain. This was a dream come true.
"H-He's a fucking idiot." Arthur pulled (Y/n) in and kissed her, a lot more tension this time. He was angry.
How could someone leave her like that?
Why would anyone give up the opportunity to be with her?
He felt (Y/n) tug at his hair, causing him to groan. He flipped them so that she was the pressed against the counter. She moaned against his lips, her hands starting to unbuckle his belt. She could feel his hard length throbbing against her groin. Was she crazy? The man just shot people. Killed them!
But damnit, it was thrilling. They both needed this. They needed eachother.
Arthur's hands explored her body, reaching down and pulled the dress up enough for him to fit between her legs. With what strength he had, he gripped the back of her thighs and pulled her into his lap. Placing her on the counter he dropped to her knees.
Both of them seemed out of breath and dazed, but they were far from finished with each other. Arthur pulled her so she was the edge of the counter, legs spread and... no panties? Arthur gazed up at her. The heat in her cheeks said it all. She was expecting more than just dinner tonight.
"God, you're beautiful." Arthur muttered, his lips caressing her thigh. He kissed upwards, leaving small red stains from the paint. He didn't know much about pleasuring a girl. Christ, he was a virgin. He could never have the guts to purchase porno magazines from the store or any tapes like that. He dreaded if his mother were to stumble upon them.
Arthur leaned into her groin, his hot mouth and tongue going at her like a starved man. (Y/n) leaned back into the mirror so Arthur had better access to her sex. This was not how she planned her night. Dare she say, it was better.
"Oh, C-Carnival!" Her hands found their way to Arthur's hair again, slightly pulling. The groans from vibrated her, her legs almost closing around Arthur's head. "Fuck, I need you." She sat up, pulling the clown's head back so he was looking up at her. "Stand up." She demanded. Arthur stood up and before he knew it he was thrown against the counter again. He watched her slowly fall to her knees, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. Embarrased, he looked away. He felt so.. vulnerable. Again, he was a virgin. He's never received anything like this before. He doesn't know where to look, who to hold onto. Jesus, he didn't even know how to react.
Arthur's legs left weak and he gripped onto the counter for support. He looked down to find (Y/n) and half of his cock in that tight mouth of hers.
"F-Fuck!" Out of instinct he gripped a handful of her hair. He didn't pull her away or push her further down. He was savoring the feeling of her lips around his length. "Goddamn it.." He felt like he could roll off the edge at any moment. Who knew that (Y/n) Franklin could be such a little slut. "Oh, (Y/n).. ah, fuck.." He slightly pulled her head back, her mouth popping at his tip. "Y-You keep doing that and I-I'm gonna.." He felt too embarrassed to say it. What? That he'd cum? Like it wasn't natural to be aroused.
"Maybe I want you to." (Y/n) rose to her feet and she slammed her lips onto Arthur's. He could subtly taste the precum off her tongue. "You must be a fan." Her hand found his length, her fingers wrapping around it and slowly pumped. "I never told you my name.." She kissed his jawline, sucking on his neck.
"L-Lean against the counter." Arthur requested. (Y/n) complied and lean back against the sink. Arthur, out of excitement, turned her around and bent her over the counter. She was smirking. Hell yes.
"You wanna fuck me, Carnival?" She asked, feeling his hand pull up her dress again, enough to show her ass. How badly he wished for her to say his name. Not his stage name, but his name.
His fingers slipped between her legs and his middle finger grazed her sensitive pearl.
"I wanna do so much with you.." His voice sounded like he a begging. She squirmed against his hand, desperate to feel his digits inside her.
"God, please.." She begged, arching her back so that her ass was pressed against his groin. She could feel his hard cock pressing. "Fuck me. Fuck me till I can't think of nothing else but you.."
Arthur pulled his hand back, grabbed her hips and thrusted himself into her tight entrance.
"C-Christ! Fuck!" Arthur moaned, not stopping until he was fully inside her. (Y/n) cried up, much to her delight, and gripped the side of the counter. "T-Tell me when you're good.."
"Oh, baby, I don't want you to stop."
Arthur pulled out, easily sliding back in. Her slick cunt coated his cock and if he wasn't so determined to make this moment last he would've been cumming the second he thrusted into her.
"I-I'm not hurting you, am I?" So concerned, so caring, it was sweet of him. (Y/n) hoisted herself on her elbows and looked at Arthur through the mirror, watching him as he fucked her. She didn't know getting pounded by a clown was so thrilling, not to mention, a murderous clown. She smirked, blissfully enjoying the sounds of skin smacking against skin and Arthur's moans.
"Oh Carnival, keep going, daddy!"
Daddy
That was new. It felt strange being called daddy. But he liked it. He really liked it. Made him feel like he was in control for once.
She could feel in the pit of her stomach the desire, the need to release. So far, she wasn't far from it, especially the was Arthur kept hitting her spot. He'd make her cum in no time.
"Call me Daddy again." Arthur's grip on her hips tightened as he felt himself reaching his peek.
"Oh Daddy! Daddy!" She repeated, looking at the clown's reflection. She could read the exhausted yet in control expression, even tho covered with a happy expression with paint. "Cum inside me."
"You w-want me to?" Arthur could put two and two together. She was risking a lot if he did so. According to birds and the bees, he could get her pregnant. The sound of it almost made him more aroused.
"Oh please, I'm about to-" (Y/n) cried out a blissful cry as she hit her peek. The high of the climax caused her to hit the mirror with an open palm, it cracked under her palm, splitting the soft skin.
Her tight walls clenched around Arthur's length. As if she could have gotten any tighter, he followed her closely behind. His hot seed spitting into her.
"Fucking, ah! S-Shit!" Arthur's nails dug into her hips as he pushed his hip all the way so he could be as deep as he could. His legs were shaking as he leaned over her so his tattered breath was by her ear. He could hear her soft moaning as she climbed down from her high. "P-Please tell me I'm not imagining this.."
"I'm real, baby. This is all real." (Y/n) chuckled. Arthur sat up, carefully pulling out of her, watching as his cum seeped out of her cunt. He stuffed himself back into his pants and leaned against the wall.
"Fuck.." He breathed, taking it all in. All of this just seemed to happen so quickly. But God did he cherish it.
(Y/n) sat up and and fixed her dress. She hissed a bit when realizing she cut her hand on the mirror. Arthur noticed.
"You'll want to get that checked out. Can't tell you how disgusting this place is.." He stated, studying ber carefully. Now that this was over.. what now?
"I suppose I should go now.." (Y/n) stated, grabbing her coat off the floor. She didn't plan of wearing it back home but she surely wasn't going to leave it here. Arthur nodded, disappointed but how else would this go on? People would notice if she went missing. No, it was better this way.
(Y/n) walked over to Arthur and planted a short kiss upon his lips. Arthur checked and caressed her cheek. How was gonna miss her..
"Maybe I'll see you another time." She pulled away from him, heading to the door. Arthur chuckled, a genuine one. Yeah right. People like him and her would never ben caught dead together. They weren't meant to be.
"Yeah.. see ya around.."
----
Time went by after that night. A lot went down after the night too. So much in a short span Arthur was barely keeping up. Cops showing up to question him, his dreams of a comedian slowly falling down the drain, his mother hospitalized, no not his mother.. he doesn't even know his real mother..and the one guy he looked up to shamed him on television.
The name Arthur Fleck. It was laughed at. Not with. At.
The murders on the train got out. People started to think it was a movement. They couldn't be more wrong.
Arthur couldn't help keeping his mind on (Y/n) Franklin. The night they shared in the dirty restroom. He wondered if she ever thought of him.
Of course, she did. (Y/n) had the scar on her palm to remind her. The night she had with the clown. It was thrilling. It was exciting. She'd do it again.
The name Arthur Fleck showed up often. Her father making a public shame of the name on his show. How humiliating. There was nothing wrong about wanting to become a star.
And then the laughing fit happened.
Her father made fun of his lack of humor and his laughing fits. That familiar laughing fits. (Y/n) pushed the coincidence down and out of her mind. It wasn't him. No way.
And then the news broke out.
'(Y/n) Franklin Is Expecting! Who's The Father!'
The media was going crazy with questions. But the number one question was who the baby's father was.
Of course Arthur new exactly who the father was. It was him. That was his baby. Arthur flew into a hysteria of laughter the day he found out. She was having his baby.
Then Arthur got the call. To come onto the show and be interviewed by the man he was inspired by. It was a dream, right?
Arthur sat in front of the vanity in the dressing room. He was here. Sitting in the dressing room. He felt like a star. But the gun in his waistband reminded him of his true intentions tonight. He had nothing to live for. Nothing to lose. He was finished. Perhaps Arthur Fleck would be a name to remember.
"Ah, Arthur, it's good to finally meet you." The door opened and Murry walked in, accompanied by the director and his daughter. Arthur stood up, greeted by shaking Murry's hand. "Ya nervous?"
"Only a little." Arthur fidgeted a bit. "Listen, I just wanted to say thank you for bringing onto your show tonight. It means alot.."
"Of course, I'm glad you could make it. But I do have to ask.. what's up with the face? The makeup? Are you here to protest with the movement that's been going on?"
"No.. no, I don't believe in that stuff.." Arthur's eyes glanced behind Murry and at his daughter. For a moment he zoned out, Murry and his director-Gene talking about how the makeup could set some of the audience off due to what's been going on.
No, Arthur didn't hear any of it. His gaze met (Y/n)'s and either she recognized him a little or not at all. A concentrated look in her eye. She had seen his face before. Arthur saw how beautiful she was. She was glowing.
"No, it's gonna work. Let him keep the face on." Murry said, catching Arthur's attention.
"Thank you."
"Of course, of course. But I'll tell you the rules real quick. We want to keep I a clean show, ya know? So no swearing and any colorful language at all. Got it?"
"Absolutly, Murry." Arthur nodded, a smile spread on his face. Murry, Gene and (Y/n) went to leave but Arthur stopped them. "Just one more thing before you go... when you introduce me.. can you bring me out as Joker.."
"What's wrong with your real name.." Gene asked, annoyed and impatient with the clown. Murry dismissed him and gave Arthur a questionable look.
"That's what you called me in your last show. A joker." There was a hiss in his voice. Clearly calling out on the man's insult. Murry glanced at Gene.
"Did I say that?"
"You did." (Y/n) spoke up, confirming Arthur's allegations.
"Oh, well.. Joker it is, then." Murry gave a smile to the clown.
"Thank you.." Arthur once again nodded, thankful.
"Alright well, you stay here and we'll have someone come get you when we're ready." And with that, the three left Arthur in the dressing room again.
Arthur.. sat at the vanity once more and pulled out a cigarette. He pondered the thought of what might happen tonight. He had no plan.. just a loaded gun in his waistband and his heart beating for the hostess.
"Goooood Evening, Everyone! Welcome to the Murry Show, I'll be your hostess tonight, (Y/n) Franklin!" She gave a whole hearted smile into the camera, her dress sparkling in the light. "Today we have a very special guest, one that has brought laughter into our hearts! But until then, let me introduce you my beloved father, Murry Franklin!" She walked out of the way so the curtains may be drawn back and her father step into the spot light. The crowd cheered his name as he walked out, introducing himself and greeting his audience. However (Y/n) stayed off to the side and glanced behind the slowly closing curtains. She could see his silhouette in the darkness, smoking on a half finished cigarette. He was look at her, studying the dress she wore, her hair and makeup. All dolled up. He flashed her a smirk before the curtains closed, breaking off her attention.
(Y/n) made her way to the couch and sat down. Silent.
"Now like my daughter said before, we have a very special guest tonight! We talked about his little act he had as a stand up comedian, just take a look."
The screen flashed on and it was the video taken at Pogo's. The video of Arthur attempting at comedy and instead falling under pressure into fits of laughter. The audience found it hilarious. (Y/n) sat rather uncomfortably in her seat, crossing a leg over the other. At first she wasn't sure that it was the same man from the trainstation, but seeing him face to face... that makeup looked all too familiar.
Carnival.
Daddy
She felt breathless for a moment. Flashes of how that night went. The way he kissed her. The way he touched her. He made her feel so good. She craved him every night after that. She couldn't keep him out of her thoughts for too long. She couldn't help it. She craved him. She craved the man that knocked her up.
"Now Ladies and Gentlemen, let me introduce you to Joker!"
The crowd cheered and clapped, pulling (Y/n) from her dreaming. She stood up with her father and the rest of the guest, welcoming Authur to the stage.
No, not Arthur.
Joker.
As soon as the spot light hit him. He was no longer Arthur. No longer that sweet man who couldn't put up a fight. All that was left, was Joker.
It felt like a dance. He was now in motion to the beating of his own drum, no one else's. Joker entered the stage as though he heard nothing else but his own music. In his own little world.
He walked towards Murry, who held out a hand to shake. Joker simply smacked it as a high-five. No longer was he timid. No longer was he afraid. He had nothing to lose.
He greet the other two guests with old shlap stick comedic way, but when we reached (Y/n).. he wrapped his arms around her and like in the train station bathroom, tilted her weight back in his arms and kissed her. Kissed her like they always did in movies.
The audience went wild. Joker could hear cheering, laughing and gasps of shock. He paid no mind. He was cherishing his last moments by holding his girl close and kissing her.
Murry hid his disapproval with a forced smile. It was his little girl that the joker was holding dangerously close.
When Joker pulled away from (Y/n) he could see the daze in her eyes. It made him smile.
"I heard about the good news." He stated, kissing her hands before letting her return to her seat. He took his seat by Murry's desk, one leg cross over the other.
"That was quite the entrance.." Murry pointed out the obvious, eyeing his daughter closely. He could see not only that she was comfortable around Joker but that maybe she knew him a little too well.
"Sorry, Murry. Sometimes I just can't control myself." Joker apologized, his leg lightly shaking up and down, loosening his nerves. He still didn't have a plan.
"Clearly." Murry started, gaining a chuckle from his audience. "Well, I'm glad you could make it tonight, Joker."
"I'm glad to be here. I can't tell ya how many times my mother and I would watch your shows."
"Ah, your mother. The one that told you that you'd be a great comedian?" Murry eyed the camera, again, the audience laughed. Joker could help let a chuckle out as well. He had to keep his anger in control. It wasn't time yet. He had to remain calm.
"Yep. Dear old mom.." He strained, his fingers tapping against the fabric of the chair.
"How is your mother? Is she sat home, watching her boy on the Murry Franklin show?" Murry asked, his hands neatly on his desk. Joker held back a laugh as he shook his head.
"No.. She's dead."
There was an awkward silence. A few audience members scoffed, waiting for him pull the punchline or say that he was kidding. He didn't. The guests shifted on the couch, not sure how they should react.
"Well.. I'm terrible sorry to hear that.." Murry's eyes glanced at Gene from behind the recording booth. Gene raised his hands as though to tell him to change the subject. "But she supported your dreams of being a comedian, yes?"
"Yes, Murry. She supported everything I did, said that I'd be a great comedian.. even if I wasn't funny.." Joker's eyes gazed down at the ground for a moment. Penny Fleck. The liar.
"Sound's like your mother was a kind woman." Joker held a hand laid upon his. He glanced over to meet her eyes. She was giving him a warm smile. She had a kind heart. He could tell. That's what he fell in love with. Her kind heart. Her beautiful smile and silly little laugh. He loved everything about her. He loved it when her tight pussy squeezed around his cock as he pounded into her. He couldn't stop thinking about that night. The night she was his.
"We all love a good mama's boy, don't we folks?" Murry chuckled with his audience. "Can't have too many of those in this world." There was something a little too aggressive in his tone. Joker could pick up on it easily. Murry didn't like him. He didn't like him cause he could tell there was something going on between him and his daughter. "Well I'm glad to hear that your mother supported your dreams of being a comedian, even though you actually have to be funny in order to be one."
"I, for one, don't see why he can't be a comedian. I think he's rather funny." (Y/n) stated, placing her hand back in her lap. It was obvious she was trying to press her father's buttons. She always had to oppose him in some sort of way. It could never be one sided. Always both. " And we don't have many funny people now a days. Especially with the riots and 'Kill The Rich' as they say. And here we are, sitting on a couch, telling a clown he's not funny.." She shrugged her shoulders, her head never lowering to anyone else's opinion. Joker smirked at her.
"Ah, yes.. The terrible murders in the subway. It is a tragedy what happened to those good men."
Joker could help but scoff. Murry noticed but said nothing. (Y/n) shifted in her seat, clearly frustrated. Of course no else would have known what really happened. Those men were assaulting her. But just because some rich asshole is murdered, he's the saint and a martyr.
"Something wrong, honey?" Murry asked, seeing that his daughter is fidgeting in her seat.
"How do we know that those men were good people?" She asked, looking towards the audience. "I mean, how can we really tell that those men weren't vile, predatory monsters and got what they deserved.."
"(Y/n), dear, they had families. Wifes. Children."
"Then why did they need to harass and toy with a woman on the train.."
Once again, the awkward silence came back.
"And let's not forget what they did to that poor clown.." (Y/n) hissed. "He would've beaten him to death.. all because he told them to stop bothering the woman.."
Murry would've gestured for Gene to cut the line and jump to commercial. But his daughter knew more than she led on.
"You know.." Joker chuckled. "You shoulder really listen to what your daughter says.." He glanced at Murry, a smug grin on his face. Murry gave him a look.
"Oh, and you know about this too?"
"Well duhhh.." Joker rolled his eyes as though it was obvious. "I'm the clown she's talking about."
There were rustled chattering in the audience. Joker couldn't hear specifically hear what they were saying, but he knew it was about him. His laughter found it's way out now. He couldn't control it.
"Are you saying.. you shot those men?" Murry asked, now intrigued. "And you think that it's funny?"
"I do."
"And why should we believe you? A clown?" Murry asked. Joker shrugged, confident in himself. Everyone should know who those men were and why they had to die. They were scum.
"I got nothing else left to lose." He chuckled, almost pained. Nothing left to lose. Bullshit. He had a baby on the way. "I'm tired of pretending that those men had tragic deaths when it was them who made it tragic." Joker glanced at Murry. "You should have seen the one by the stairs.. He actually thought he was gonna get away.."
Murry stiffened at Joker's words. Was he actually telling the truth? On LIVE television?
"What was it, to start a movement? Did you kill those men to prove something?"
"Have you been listening, at all?" Joker looked at Murry as though he was a complete idiot. "I don't care about the riots. I don't care about the rich, the Waynes, I don't give a shit about any of it.. I did it cause, little did you know, your little girl was on that train that night.." Murry glanced at his daughter, she wasn't looking their way. She was looking off somewhere else, probably wishing she were somewhere else. "Those men cornered her, touched and they hit her... that's why I killed them, Murry. I killed them because they hurt the woman carrying my child.. And that was unacceptable.."
"Is that true, honey? Is everything his guy I saying true.. the train.. the baby? It's his?" Murry didn't want to believe in. There's no way that this clown is claiming to be the one who knocked his daughter up. "Honey?"
Joker looked towards the hostess that became silent. He reached over and placed a hand on her thigh.
"Honey." He mocked, rolling his eyes. (Y/n)'s silence confirmed that Joker's accusations were true. The three men harassed and hit her. They had to pay. "You know, something, Murry." He lightly squeezed her thigh. Her eyes trailed off to the side and looked at his hand. The way he touched her. She loved it. "Your daughter calls me Daddy too."
The crowd made both disgusted and shocked sounds. Out of all the shows Murry had, this one was the most interesting.
"Is. That. So." Murry was trying to keep his composure but Joker was really pushing it. Joker chuckled, his hand trailing up (Y/n)'s thigh. Right in front of Murry.
"Yeah.." Joker arched his brow. "She loves it when I finger fuck her tight pussy. Makes her purr like a kitten."
"Alright that's enough out of you." Murry was gesturing to get the clown off the stage. Joke just kept chuckling to himself.
"I got another joke for you, Murry."
"No, I think we're done here."
"What do you get.."
"Arthur, I'm asking you politely.."
"When you cross, a mentally I'll loner.."
"To get your hand off my daughter.."
"And a society! That abandons him and treats him like trash!"
"And get the fuck out of my studio!"
"I'll tell you what you get!"
"Someone call the police!"
"You Get What You Fucking Deserve!"
Bang
With perfect aim, Joker took out his gun and shot Murry Franklin right between the eyes. Just like the subway station.
(Y/n) let out a shriek as she stood and ran to her father's body. The audience screamed and began to panic. Rushing towards the exit in fear that Joker would put a bullet in them next. Joker sat calmly in his chair, a chuckle escaping his lips.
"Daddy?! Daddy!!" (Y/n) shook her father's corpse. "Oh God, Oh God!!"
Joker glanced at the camera. It was still rolling. He smirked and got up. He walked over to (Y/n) and grabbed her arm, pulling her into his chest.
"You call me daddy now, babygirl." Joker aimed his gun, shooting Murry's body one more time. Just to get his pint up anger out. He could hear his girl screaming in his hold, struggling to break free. "Now that we're having a baby, we gotta think of names. I always liked the name Damien for a boy. Or maybe Jillian for a girl?"
"Get away from me! You scare the hell out of me!" (Y/n) tried pulling away from the clown.
"Aw, don't say that to your baby daddy." Joker chuckled. "But you really need to calm down, hun, it's not good for the baby."
"Get Away!"
"Put Your Goddamn Hands Up!"
Joker's eyes trailed off towards the entrance of the stage and noticed police ready and aimed at him. Joker chuckled, annoyed.
"Shit.." He slowly let go of his girl and she instantly ran back to her father's body, sobbing into his blazer.
Joker submitted to the police, raising his hands up in surrender. It was all over.
Joker looked out the window of the back of the police car, watching the riots he triggered. The city was on fire. And it was his. This was his world. His city.
Many faces passed by, all the same face, same mask. His face. Joker laughed, one of glee. The cops driving told him to shut it, not like he could follow orders.
Before he could invision his life behind bars, there was a screeching halt-- then the car flipped.
-----
There was a deafening ringing in his ears. A great pain all over his body and the taste of old pennies in his mouth.
Joker coughed and spit out the blood in his mouth. He could hear the faint cheer around him. A current, steady cheer. It was made just for him. He groaned out while leaning on his side, he felt like all his bones were broken. His eyes started clearing up and the bright colors of flames lit up the dark night. Joker found himself in the middle of an intersection about downtown of Gotham. He slowly sat up. His hearing started coming back; the hollering, the sirens and street destructions were loud and clear now. Joker stood on top of the trashed car he had been laid upon. He looked around him. He was surrounded by the people he could know to be his followers. They all wore the same mask. His mask. Joker looked in every direction, they were all there. They were waiting for him. Waiting for him to say something. Give orders. Continue the movement.
Joker never saw a world so beautiful. Gotham was in flames and he had seen nothing more beautiful.
Wait.
Yes, he had.
Where was she? Where were they?
Joker looked around frantically. All the riots. All the destruction. Was she safe? Was she hurt? He needed to find her. Whether she wanted to go or not, she was going with him. He didn't know where they'd go. He didn't know how he would support his new family. But he'd find a way. He had followers, people who would kill for him. He wasn't alone.
Joker turned around and saw a follower begin walking towards him, something--someone in his arms. Joker recognized the dress and it's gleaming sparkle.
When the live broadcast of the Murry Franklin show everyone knew the truth. People were calling it The Spawn Of Joker And if it was Joker's then it was to be returned to him.
The follower made his way to the car Joker stood on and extended out his arms to offer the woman to him. Joker reached out and took her into his arms. Joker chuckled, looking down at the woman he took in the subway restroom. The woman who didn't run. The woman who kissed him first.
He held her in his arms. She was still breathing. Thank God. Joker looked around at his followers. The laughter in his throated started back up again.
He might not know where they would go.
He might not know what he would do.
But he wasn't alone anymore.
And that's all he needed.