Prompt(sent a similar one to more people): You are a princess at a charity and Arthur is a clown.
AN: Might do this in parts.. here goes… Reader x Arthur Fleck/ Joker
____________
The Princess and the Clown
———————-
You knew this charity event would be different than any other. You knew this, because today you’d be entertaining children who were ill, some even terminal, and making them smile was a real big challenge.
Your heart constricted in your chest at the sight of them. Too young, you thought. Too many. Yet you forced a smile on your face and delicately waved your hand, as if you were truly happy to see them.
You were happy. Though more than happy you felt privileged. Because you carried the important task of making these children forget, if just for an hour or two, about the world around them. And you’d give them your all.
With a gentle movement of your hands you lifted the layered skirts of your princes dress. Next to you, a girl you knew was actually called Chantal but who was dressed as Cinderella, let out an exasperated sigh through gritted teeth. “Mind if I stick to you?” She asked, her smile never faltering though. “You look the part. The other girls aren’t that great.”
You knew she was picky about who she wanted to work with. For this charity event, several girls had been asked to come and perform as princesses, and not all of them had accurate costumes or manners. You wondered if they were all up to play the part to be honest.
“All right.” The two of you mingled with the crowd. Gotham Hospital suddenly didn’t seem much like a hospital any longer, but rather like a fairground. With the large gardens around the hospital decorated with balloons and flags and with little stalls scattered about with toys and food.
The two of you found yourselves talking and laughing with the children and their parents, and soon you were forgetting how ill some of these children really were. It was just you and the kids, waving, bowing, doing small talk, asking them about their favourite characters, colours, favourite anything. You remained polite and kind whenever you bumped into any other characters, but Chantal was less than pleasant. She greeted them with a fake smile and sneered behind their backs once they had passed. The girl was starting to work on your nerves and so you decided to ignore her as much as the job allowed you to.
You were already on the job for about twenty minutes when suddenly, Chantal came to a halt and pointed at a group of people ahead. “Oh look, they brought in the clowns,” she said, her voice flat.
Your gaze followed hers as her eyes drifted to a single clown. A loner, by the looks of it. He was bending forward to tell a joke to a handful of children. His bright green hair, attached to a very obvious and cheap wig cap, wobbled. You heard Chantal’s voice, “I never found them funny.”
You took a swift glance at the group in the distance and then looked back at the single clown again. You silently agreed. Clowns had never really made you smile. But you weren’t going to tell that to Chantal. Instead, you shrugged and started to make your way over to a child who had just caught your eyes and was waving at you. “I’m sure they will bring a smile to many children’s faces,” you replied, and then you were on the job again.
An hour and a half later and the event was nearing its end. You and Chantal were walking around with four children on your hands each. They looked up at you with heart-eyes and seemed to have vouched to never let your hand go. Chantal relished in it, enjoying the way the children worship her. You, on the other hand, started to feel that familiar sadness again deep inside of you. That sadness that resurfaced at the realisation that these children will have to let you go at one point. And perhaps they would not be here a next time to hold hands again.
That was when you heard the choked laughter. Chantal heard it too. You could hear her coo to the kids on her hand to ignore the clown who was laughing. “Clowns aren’t as sophisticated as princesses anyway,” you heard her say.
You turned to look at the laughing clown to see it was that very same loner again. The one with the bright green hair. The one who was standing alone. The children standing around him seem to love him. They inch closer to him, some were tugging at his clothes like he was some kind of huge teddy. As you looked at him, you accidentally locked eyes with him, and that’s when your breathing stopped.
His eyes were the purest green. As green as the fake hairs on his head.
And now that he had caught you staring you felt obliged to say something to acknowledge his presence, to show you appreciate him working here, for these kids.
So that is what you say.
“The kids really love you.”
His eyes widened at your statement. Or was it a compliment? You don’t even know yourself.
Chantal had walked on ahead of you. The children at your hand were tugging for you to come along and follow Cinderella to one of the fake carriages that had been placed there as décor.
Knowing you couldn’t stay behind and that you had to fulfil the wishes of the kids, you quickly flashed the clown another apologetic smile. And, as good manners bid you to do, you did a very princess-like bow. Your dress swirled behind you when you turned to leave the man to do his job. But his laughter had died down and though you expected him to, he never replied.
___
AN: More parts? And what? Dark? Angst? Fluff? Comfort? SFW? NSFW? Any desires?