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Posting it here too cuz I thought it was a fun trend. I kinda hate the aesthetic I did cuz Pinterest wasnât working with me.. but I tried my best đąđąđą
TDK Trilogy: Imagine the Joker taking an interest in you at one of Bruce Wayneâs parties.
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PARTY CRASHER
Bruce definitely liked to host parties, even at times like these, when a literal killer clown was at large, and he had already barged into one of his parties. But this was his birthday, and it was different in his opinion. But Bruce was being reckless if you were asked, the problem was that you didnât find the idea of confronting your boss very appealing. So you just kept on smiling as you laid down glasses of champagne and wine into tables and practicing occassional small talk.
But the moment you exited the living room and out of the sight of the guests, your smile died and you started muttering your frustration to yourself. Bruceâs friends werenât all his actual friends, some were his businness partners and their whole energy just bloomed with arrogance and that they held your worth as low as they thought of a street dog. You were nothing, just a servant who doesnât deserve even a thank you when you laid them a plate of medium steak.
You swung the door to the linen closet open and threw the rag to the laundry basket, before walking over to the shelf to get a new one.
âYou look, ah, not very service-friendly,â you suddenly heard from behind you and whipped around to see the very person you had been afraid of to barge in. The Joker had stood in the corner of the room, but was now taking slow steps towards you.
âHow did you get in?â you squeaked out, trying to seek out the emergency button with your hand, but The Joker noticed your hand wandering and immediately grabbed you, pulling you flush against him and pressing the knife against your cheek.
âNow, thatâs very nice to greet a, ah, guest,â he murmured, his foul breath fanning against your face.
You swallowed, staring at the tip of the knife that was dangerously close to your eyeball. âYouâre not Mr. Wayneâs guest.â
He grinned. âIâm not his guest. I came to meet, ah, you.â
You blinked. âMe?â
He shifted slightly. âI saw you earlier. You have fight in you, frustration against the elite of Gotham.â
You frowned. âWhere didââ
He tightened his hold on your face. âShh, does it matter? I saw you, I saw the potential in you, and thatâs something, ah, I want to have.â
The blade pressed on your cheek so hard now that it was just about to draw blood. You felt tears coming up, maybe from the pressure on your face, maybe from fear, maybe because your heart thumped so fast and it messed up with your tear canals somehow. He swiped his gloved thumb under your eye. âAw doll, donât cry. I just, ah, want you to know you would do better than this, serving the so-called elite of Gotham.â
You trembled slightly in his hold, before he finally released you and dug out the inside of his coat, before showing one of his many Joker cards. âHereâs my card, in case you, ah, want to find your true potential.â
He leaned over, laying the card on the table behind you, before brushing his hand over your cheek again. Then, he walked out of the door and disappeared, likely the same way he came from, because you didnât hear any sounds of commotion. You leaned against the table behind you, breathing fast, feeling the imprint of the blade on your cheek. Every single cell of you told you to pick up the card and run to Bruce, but instead, you picked it up and stared at it⊠before you pocketed it.
You werenât even sure why, but you had a feeling things were changing soon.
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