i take your jewels

PROBLEM (part one)

* saw Suicide Squad the other day, and fell in love with the Joker, so I was inspired to make this mini-series.

PLOT: Gotham’s Most Successful Female Crime Boss, Y/N, gets a visit from the Clown Prince of Crime, The Joker.

WARNINGS (for future): Joker sexiness, murder, crime, a lavish lifestyle you can only dream of, blood,cold hearted killing.

DISCLAIMER: The OC/You is insane, like Joker fucked up, if that upsets or unnerves you, don’t read. I love writing OC characters as villains, who doesn’t like to be the bad guy?


Originally posted by flyngdream

“Johnny! Be a sweetheart and open the gates for me!”

Just like that the gate started to swing open; you drove forward, parking up at the front of the house. Johnny ran to the side of you and opened the door for you, putting his hand out to help you, allowing you to step out onto the concrete. He placed a kiss on to your overly jewelled hand, smiling. “Hello Y/N, I take it your trip was well?” you squeezed his hand.

“Of cause it was well, thank you for keeping me informed.” You began to walk up the stairs, your fur coat trailing behind you. Your heels clicking on the marble floor,

Originally posted by iheartswagdouble

 “Welcome back, your highness.” You grinned; you’d never get bored of that. He handed you a glass of red wine, as you walked through the big, golden double doors. You made your way to the main living area; your henchmen stood waiting for your arrival.

“Hello boys. Miss me?” you asked, taking a seat at the top of the balcony, they cheered your name and clapped at your arrival.

The music was blaring out, the strippers were giving your guys a good show, it was like you had never left.

Your most trusted workers, Lilly and Tom sitting beside you on the blood red plush sofa. “So what have I missed?” you asked, looking at Tom on your left. “Well. You have another client that wants to talk with you.” He stated, reading from his diary. “Have I? Who is it?” you asked, curiously. “He’s waiting in your office. Been here for a while, he seems very interested in working with you.”  He smirked. You got up and walked towards your office. You opened the door to see the Clown Prince of Crime, himself.

Originally posted by dumsvolturi

“Joker, to what do I owe the pleasure?” you purred, walking towards the chair opposite him. You grabbed a cigar from the tray on the coffee table, offering him one also. “Y/N, Gotham’s most notorious crime boss.” You smirked, lighting the cigar between your lips. “In the flesh.” You leaned across, passing over the silver lighter.  He took it from you, “I hate to admit it, but I am having trouble killing the Batman.” He confessed. “And I would care, why?” The amount of problems you had, getting involved with Batman was the last thing you were planning on doing. He laughed, “Because, sweet Y/N if you help me, I will make it very worth your while.” He grinned, his silvery smile showing, grabbing your chin, so you were eye to eye with him. You weren’t going to lie, this could be a good opportunity to show who was the real queen of Gotham. Working with the Joker but showing your crew’s skills and solidifying yourself as the top boss in the city.

Maybe even killing him off after. God, your so evil.


PART TWO

2

Lydia the manticore
Substitute ambassador in Mew York for Gnawth

Sand

Sculptures of heroic figures stand upright against the walls, and the cold, polished marble floor reflects the sunlight let in by a large bay window set at the back of the room. Had you not already known this was an office, you would have thought it a small museum, or some kind of tribute to Gnawthian gods and architecture.

The desk at the back of the room is of the same stone material as the statues to either side of you, and contains several visible flaws. One of its legs is propped up with books, and cracks run every which way along its surface. It must be expensive to repair, otherwise the ambassador probably would have seen to it.

There is no chair for you to sit in, only a pile of rubble in front of the desk, which in all likelihood was a chair in a previous life, perhaps as short as a day or so ago.

As you approach the desk, minding the debris on the floor, you realize that every statue in the room is pointed in your direction. Their faces are all set in various states of despair, and you feel as if they were real people at one point, frozen in stone at the pinnacle of their suffering. You can’t be sure if you actually feel their collective stony gaze upon you, or if it’s just your imagination. The ambassador is supposed to be a Gorgon, right? Better not think too hard about it.

No pun intended.

“Hmm. Sit down. Sit up straight, and don’t slouch. Maybe if I keep you in here long enough, the rest of your kind will grow bored and leave. I would love for that to happen. I don’t really even want to be here. I’m an ambassador now, and I have to stay in this office? This tiny box? Pathetic! I should be out spreading my influence, not here helping a couple of homeless vagrants. All of you will just take everything this city has to offer and leave nothing in return. I’ve seen it before. Everyone is the same.


"You’re here because I need to process your paperwork. I don’t know why you have to be here. I can fill out your papers just fine without you being in my presence, disturbing me. Why are there even so many forms? What’s the point if you’re automatically granted citizenship? All of you should just be able to write in your names on a piece of paper and send them in. Mayor’s taking your word on faith alone, so why not your written word? Ridiculous. Wasting my time. I bet you’re enjoying this, too, huh?


"The ambassador before me was pitiful. Scrooge McGrouch, she was. I told her not to sleep with the windows open, but she refused to listen to my advice, and now she’s sick with some kind of tropical flu. Bullshit. Probably just made it up to not have to be here to deal with all of you. I know that’s what I would do if I were in her shoes.


"I don’t even want you to be on the same continent as me, let alone the same city. You look filthy, you look like you haven’t slept in days, you look unkempt, disheveled, untidy. Your appearance offends me, and I won’t have you looking like that if I’m to fill these papers out with your info. If we weren’t so pressed for time, I’d drown you in the river. At least then you’d be clean. Forever.


"Just be quiet and entertain yourself while I finish these. Actually, no. Entertain me. Maybe I’m too bored today to properly fill these out. I should go home, really. I feel the slightest bit of fever coming on, and it wouldn’t do to have me spreading the cold to everyone out here. Maybe if there was some really good act to amuse me, I would forget all about having a possibly contagious flu.


"Sickening. Your idea of entertainment disgusts me, and I hope your time here on this continent is short. I hope your new life is a brief one. If I could, I’d ship you right back to wherever the hell it is you came from. Glissod? Jewell? I don’t care about either of those. Take your papers and get out. If you don’t figure out where to file them, you’re not going to be a citizen. Figure it out yourself. I’m too busy to do it for you. Send the next baby in here while you’re out there.”