i loved the way his jacket moved idk

An Arkham Love Story - Leto!Joker x Reader

So I decided to fulfill two requests at once. I know it’s been a while since I wrote something other than a chapter for the Beginning and I hope you like this. Enjoy. -J.xx

The joker and reader and in arkham together and he toys with her mind a bit (I prefer him in the straight jacket for some reason. I like the way he has to sway when he wants move? Idk. Totally put your own spin on this) can end however you choose. Or like maybe like he draws her closer and closer and kills her 🙃 what? Idk. I love you so much 💕 

Could you do a jokerxreader for leto in arkham and he falls for another inmate? Maybe she’s in the cell next to his 


Three months, four days, and seven hours since she was first escorted into the cell across the hall from his. Three months, four days, and five hours since she first piqued his interest. And two hours since he killed her.

It had been an uneventful day when they brought her in. He had been sitting in the corner of his cell, restrained in his straightjacket, arguing with himself over something he couldn’t even remember now. After the orderlies had finally walked away, he shimmied himself across the floor, pressing himself up against the glass door.

In the cell across from him looked to be a young girl, her back facing him. He banged his head on the glass a few times to get her attention. She finally turned after he had given himself a sufficient enough headache, looking at him with complete disinterest. And it was with that look that he knew he was hooked.

Over the following weeks, he got to know her better. Her name was Y/N, and that’s all anyone knew. Or at least, all that they wanted any of the other inmates to find out about. But he had connections in the asylum so it wasn’t long before her found out her story too.

A couple months before Y/N was admitted to Arkham, she experienced a psychotic break, trapping her family in their house and setting it on fire. She had killed her parents and three siblings, and when the police arrived on the scene, they found her rocking back and forth on the lawn in front of the burning home. She was unresponsive to the authorities, and before long, they sent her to the asylum.

“Hey, fire girl,” he called to her one day, smiling one of his signature smiles and swaying slightly, “So why did you kill your family?”

“Suck a dick.”

“I’m kinda stuck,” he said, wiggling around in his straightjacket and trying to bend forward, “Can’t reach myself.”

“Then hang yourself.”

“I’d like it better if you burned me,” he laughed, but she didn’t seem to think it was very funny.

Shrugging, he scooted back over to his corner, calling back to her, “You’ll change your mind soon enough.”

“And you can’t die soon enough.”

But not long after that exchange, she had managed to break herself out of her cell and get into his. She first used the straps of his jacket to strangle him, but soon was pressing her mouth over his. They rolled around on the floor of his cell for a while, fighting for dominance, before she crept back into her cell when they heard the guards making their rounds. The pair quickly fell into a routine after that, Y/N sneaking out of her cell to be with him the second the guards rounded the corner out of their hallway.

This morning had started out like any other day, lots of incoherent ramblings and pacing the length of his small cell after another sleepless night. But then he decided that he didn’t want to be in Arkham anymore. So he managed, after much struggle, to get his straightjacket off and pulled back the piece of metal wall that concealed the wires for the door.

Y/N was just coming back from her weekly therapy session when he saw the way she was looking at one of the guards. She had that look on her eye that she always had when she snuck into his cell at night. It immediately made his blood begin to boil inside his veins.

“Take notes, sweetheart,” he called to her before connecting the right wire ends to open the door.

Within seconds, he had both guards incapacitated; one snapped neck, one makeshift shank to the forehead. Y/N stared at him with wide eyes, never having seen him in action until now. And before she could utter a word, he had her pushed back into his cell, grabbing his straightjacket and wrapping it around her neck this time.

“Was I not good enough for you? Huh? Why were you making googly eyes at the guard?” he grunted, squeezing the jacket tighter and tighter.

Y/N clawed at his face, drawing blood but he didn’t mind. He continued to strangle her, his screaming becoming more and more nonsensical. He didn’t know when exactly she died, and he didn’t know when exactly they came to take him away.

But now here he was, strapped to an upright metal gurney as they pumped tranquilizers into him in attempts to calm him back down. But he had built up a tolerance for them over the years so he just continued to laugh, and laugh, and laugh, and laugh.