#arthur fleck au

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Arthur Fleck x Original Female Character  | Joker AU
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      The heavy front door slammed shut behind her, and Wanda let herself fall forward immediately, only barely landing on her soft leather couch. What a fucked up day.
      It hadn’t been working on a Saturday that ruined her day, nor had it been the underlying sense of stress she’d been feeling recently; her bad mood solely derived from the incompetence and selfishness of the people around her, the people she was forced to work with every day, the nurses and doctors that didn’t give a shit about others, let alone the feelings and lives of the young kids they worked with. Nobody cares anymore.

      Wanda let her hand drop to the hardwood floor and heard her rings jingle together. How can people be so… so self-absorbed, so falsely confident in their actions, how -
      She stopped herself and sat up promptly to look at the quietly ticking clock above her TV. 5:12 pm.
      
Her heart skipped a beat, and she leaned back against the back-rest of her sofa. She’d be seeing Arthur for dinner again at 8. 

      About a week had passed since they’d met and spent the evening in that cutesy little diner, and she’d only managed to go three days with the receipt with his number on it constantly burning a hole in her pocket before she’d called him.
      He’d been somewhat surprised to hear from her, but certainly not opposed to meeting her for dinner on Wednesday, two days later, which had been amazing.
      Sure, Arthur was, for lack of a better word, weird. He was awkward, his sense of humour was twisted and dark and his sporadic fits of laughter had the potential to make her feel fairly uncomfortable, mostly because of the people around them, but he was also extremely honest and genuine, extraordinarily caring and loving, especially when talking about his mother, and just an overall delightful human being. 

      However, regardless of his charming ways of talking, she felt his inner sadness and suffering. He didn’t talk about it much, not even really when she brought such themes up, but Wanda could feel how broken he was and how desperately he needed somebody to talk to - not unlike her.

      As much as she yearned to see him again, after this terrible day she felt like she wanted to do nothing but cuddle up in bed with a steaming cup of tea and cry herself to sleep. Maybe she could convince him to do something else, but go for dinner? Maybe just…

      She had grabbed the phone’s receiver already, her fingers dialling the number slowly, as if savouring every digit, but her heart was pounding as she finished to hear the dial tone. What if he’s not home? What if he is, and he’s mad that you can’t make it? What if -
      “Hello?” The voice that interrupted her nervous spiralling wasn’t Arthurs, but the raspy, weak tone of an older woman. His mum, of course.
      “Hi, u-um, hi, is Arthur there by any chance?” The woman on the other end inhaled sharply, and her voice seemed a little stronger than before, now mostly charged with confusion.
      “Oh, yes, but… who’s there?”
      “Wanda, m-my name is Wanda, I’m a friend of his. Could I p-possibly speak to him?” The woman paused, as if taken aback by her words, then caught herself and continued with an audible smile on her face.
      “Yes, yes, of course, hold on just a second.” Wanda could practically hear the haphazard motion that was made to cover up the phone’s microphone, the sound muffled for just a moment, before she could hear everything clearly again.

      “Happy!” She really calls him that.
      “Yes, mom?” Arthur’s voice called back sounding distant, like a call from far away or a different room.
      “There’s someone on the phone for you, her name’s Wanda?”
      “Oh, sh - !” His reaction came immediately as her name was spoken, a loud clattering, then suddenly a smashing sound, before a squeaking door opened in a rush.
      “Goodness, put some clothes on, Happy, you can’t walk around in a towel, you’ll catch a cold!”
      “I will, mom, I will in a minute, give me the phone, okay?”
      “Who’s Wanda? Is this your girlfriend?” Wanda giggled, and promptly covered her mouth, hoping neither of them had heard her. 

      His girlfriend.
      They had talked for hours over dinner, the food almost completely forgotten on the table between them as they chatted about anything and everything. She’d told him about her job, her flat, her everyday problems, and he’d told her about his work as a clown, his coworkers that he seemed to, at least, somewhat enjoy the company of, even though she’d felt an immediate dislike towards most of them, and his mother, whom she’d thought about increasingly lovingly from the way he’d described her.
      It had been only when the last sunlight ceased to light up the dreary streets outside that they’d stepped out into the crisp evening air.

      He’d offered to walk her home, again, but she’d declined politely, not wanting to be a nuisance, so he’d dropped her off at another bus stop. 

      As easy and natural as their evening of conversation had been going, as awkward had been saying goodbye. They’d stood close for a few moments, unsure of their actions, until she’d wrapped her arms around his slim frame and hugged him.
      Her body had been surging with electricity, her heart beating out of her chest while she’d pressed her face against his shoulder and collarbone, drinking in the closeness and warmth of his body. He’d taken a few moments to reciprocate the hug, and Wanda had found herself surprised by how much she’d wanted him to kiss her as she’d pulled away, even disappointed as he’d merely risen his hand again in a curt wave, turned around and hurried off into the darkness before her bus had even come to a full stop beside them.

      “No, mom, not my girlfriend, just - I’ll tell you later okay, just give me the - hello?” There he was, as clear as if he were standing right next to her, and she felt her heart surge as an immediate reaction to him.
      “Am I interrupting something?” Wanda snickered as she spoke, but Arthur promptly cut her off with his answer.
      “No, no, I was just taking a shower, it’s all good. Is everything okay?”
      Just say yes, don’t be a fucking wuss, Wanda.
      “That’s why I’m calling, I - actually I’m n-not feeling very well.”
      “Oh…” There was obvious empathy in his voice, but also a big hint of disappointment.
      “I’m sorry to hear that, can I - ”
      “But I still - I s-still want to see you.” The shyness was dominating her voice as she spoke, and she hoped it wouldn’t sound quite as desperate as she thought it did. She genuinely just wanted to see him.
      “Oh?”

      “I was thinking maybe we can just… go for a walk? I’m sorry, really, if you don’t w-want to, you don’t have to - ”
      “No, I’d love to. Do you want me to come pick you up?” His immediate acceptance surprised her as much as she felt flattered, and she struggled not to jump up and down with happiness.
      “You don’t have to, let’s maybe just meet at the park?”
      “Now?” She hadn’t thought about a time, frankly not expecting him to agree anyways.
      “I-i-if you want to, yes, I could be there in about 20 minutes?”
      “Yeah, I’ll meet you at the benches out front by the park towers?”
      “Okay, I’ll s-see you then.”
      “Be careful on the way.”

      She was late. Wanda’s eager and naïve estimate of 20 minutes had been easily overtaken by the delayed bus she’d had to wait for about half an hour alone, leaving her in the middle of rush hour on her way to their meeting point.

      Exiting the bus at the park entrance, she could already see Arthur from afar sitting on one of the benches, his leg bouncing up and down in a quick rhythm, his elbows on his knees, head in his hands, directed towards the ground.
      The light was draining away already, the low-standing sun hidden behind a solid layer of clouds and she could feel that pressure suddenly, that familiar feeling of something crawling from the pit of her stomach upwards through her throat and nose into her burning eyes and felt her eyebrows furrow by themselves as she walked towards him. Don’t cry, Wanda, come on, don’t cry.
      There was barely even enough light to cast a shadow onto the uneven asphalt flooring before her, and he didn’t see her as she walked past, his eyes clamped shut under his furrowed brows, all hidden behind a curtain of dark, shoulder-length hair.

      Wanda sat down next to him quietly, her bottom lip quivering so uncontrollably that she had to bite down onto it hard. She folded her hands together and laid them in her lap with the pressure in her chest and stomach increasing steadily, her eyes now feeling like there was a blazing fire burning right behind them.
      She took in a soothing but shuddering breath, and then couldn’t keep herself quiet any longer.
      “It’s all going to fucking shits.”
      “Wanda!” Arthur jolted up, his eyes wide open as he took her in, his shock immediately replaced by worry. The lights around them turned into wavering streaks as she blinked, and she could feel the first tears spilling over the corners of her eyes, slowly running down her cheeks.

      Arthur next to her sat up straighter and turned his whole body towards her, his hands unsteadily extended towards her, as if wanting to comfort her, but not quite knowing how. Wanda clamped her eyes shut and tried to speak, to explain herself or apologise, but something was blocking her, didn’t let her speak, only let her struggle with her unsteady breathing.

      He seemed to have moved closer as Wanda opened her eyes again, she could feel the warmth radiating off of him as the tears kept coming. She raised a hand to her face, wiping them away carelessly, but as she lowered it again, he intercepted, his long fingers closing around her freezing hand. A jolt of electricity moved through her instantly, making her look up at his anxious face.
      “T-this whole fucking town, just one big blob of c-conceited assholes.”
      “What happened?”

      She told him. They got up and walked, slowly, through the adjacent park as she spoke. She told him all about Will and his disease, about the questionable methods of treatment they were using on him, about the rapid downfall of his health and the kids from the other stations, about the other nurses and doctors and the recent enormous cuts in funding - about how nobody cared.
      He walked alongside her, her hand still loosely grasped in his and nodded understandingly every now and again, sometimes offering quick interjections and anecdotes, even a joke that had made her chuckle through her still-teary eyes.

      “All of them only care about themselves, not a single thought wasted on others, such fucking n-narcissists.” They’d sat down on another bench, this time overlooking a narrow part of the Gotham River where filthy seagulls were circling over seemingly nothing in the rolling grey stream.
      “I wouldn’t say it like that.” Arthur smiled sadly, and a thought came to her mind.
      “You don’t swear, do you?” His smile ceased, and he averted his eyes.
      “Sometimes… Just not in front of my mom.”
      “S-she doesn’t like it, huh?” He shook his head, and she thought back to his mother’s pleasant voice she’d heard on the telephone earlier. “She sounds very sweet.”
      “She worries too much.” Who doesn’t? She folded her hands together, trying to warm them up, while his eyes focussed on something far away.
      “T-there is a lot to worry about these days.” He nodded slowly, almost absentmindedly, and she was overcome by the urge to hold his hand again to offer some sort of comfort.
      “I guess.”
      “Sorry to pull you away from her like this, a-after today I just didn’t really feel like going for dinner - ”
      “No, no, I get it! I’m… I’m glad you still wanted to meet up.” He turned back towards her, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards, and she couldn’t hold back anymore. Her fingers slid over his arm, savouring the feel of the soft fabric of his ochre jacket, and almost instinctively, she interlocked her fingers with his, slowly, but purposefully. He was trembling slightly under her touch, she could feel it, but for her that was only to be taken as a compliment, especially as he readjusted his grip and squeezed her hand softly.
      “I’m glad you could m-make it.”

      Arthur insisted on walking Wanda home this time, reiterating that the streets of Gotham were truly dangerous these days and he wasn’t comfortable letting her walk home by herself, especially as her injured ankle had started to act up again.
      Her hands were buried deep within the pockets of her thick winter coat as they embarked on the journey in moderately comfortable silence. She could hear him breathing weirdly beside her, as if struggling to decide whether or not to say something, eventually breaking the quiet.
      “I have a question.” His voice was serious, all of a sudden.
      “Yeah?”
      “And you don’t have to answer it, if you don’t want to.” Wanda turned her head to find him regarding her with a somewhat curious, somewhat careful expression, as if he were observing an animal in the wild. She chuckled nervously as they finished crossing a street and stepped back onto the pavement.
      “Now you’re s-scaring me, Arthur.”
      “No, don’t be - I don’t… Why were you in that alley?” Her feet stopped moving her forward almost instinctively, and she stopped in her tracks.
      “What?” He turned around and hurried towards her, obviously worried he’d said something wrong.
      “I meant - I just meant the alley, where we met. I told you why I was there, but you never… you never mentioned why you were.”
      “Oh.” Oh, indeed. Her head was racing with lies and excuses, like she’d always tried to find when it came to her and Nathan’s relationship. Oh, the bruises? It’s nothing, I fell. The black eye? Just an accident. - You don’t have to tell them the truth.

      She shook her head and walked past him, picking up her speed to their former tempo, afraid, just for a moment, that her mouth wasn’t going to let her speak again, but it did.
      “I w-was… running from s-someone. My ex, he’s… n-not a very friendly guy.” Arthur was next to her at the blink of an eye as he heard her voice, all ears for everything she was saying.
      “What… what did he do?”

      Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say it, don’tsayit.
      “He was - he… have you ever heard about that weird f-fact, that women tend to fall for men like their fathers?” He shook his head slowly, eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “Life works in m-mysterious ways, he… well, he was just like my dad.” She turned her head to the side and observed the buildings they were passing as a distraction, so she could talk more clearly and freely.
      “He was… my dad, he wasn’t a great father, I think I t-told you about him the day we met, he… he hit my mum often, sometimes me. I - I don’t know why I’m telling you this, g-god, I should just - ” Her fingers were covering her eyes as she stopped again and turned away from him in sudden embarrassment.
      “Hey, no, no, please!” She was surprised by his short, but exceptionally easily suppressed chuckle and his warm but hesitant hands on her back and forearm. “I’m not gonna force you to tell me more, but I’ll… if you want to, I’ll listen - I’ll listen to anything you want to talk about.” His smile was loving and encouraging, and they continued walking as she explained.

      “My dad was abusive throughout my whole childhood, and after my parents f-finally split up about five years ago, he m-moved back here. My mother passed away a c-couple of years ago, not long after that, and about two y-years ago I got the news that my dad’s health had started to det-deteriorate as well, and he was in need of help, so I came here - to help.”
      Arthur nodded understandingly, his hands plunged black into the pockets of his oversized slacks, his eyes not leaving hers for even a second.

      “I got him into a fairly n-nice clinic, out of the shithole he was living in, n-n-not that he was thankful for anything I was doing, but now he was at least somewhat c-cared for. I started working here full time again to p-pay the bills and visited him every day, and he seemed to be getting better and b-better. I mean, sometimes he was even n-nice to me for once,” her face was overcome by an absent smile for a second, “and then the city cut their budgets and the clinic closed.”
      He took in a sharp breath, and she concentrated on looking forward and walking the familiar way towards home.
      “I c-couldn’t afford to get him into any of the other clinics, and Arkham State r-refused to take him in because he didn’t have, and I quote, any obvious issues. W-what a load of fucking idiots they are.” They turned a corner, and she could see the memories almost like a movie playing in front of her inner eye.
      “Well, I had to take him into my flat and try to c-care for him there, but it didn’t work. He had mental issues, which, I think, is o-obvious by now, and one day, when I c-came home from work, he was just gone. Had taken all of the money I had left from mum and some I’d managed to s-save up and left. I found out a couple of w-weeks later, completely by ch-chance, that he’d passed away.”

      Wanda took a shuddering breath, and she felt Arthur move closer, so his arm was now pressing against hers as they advanced through the dingy street.
      “I was just w-walking to work, you know, and there he was, on the p-pavement, and there was an ambulance and these fucking asshole paramedics were standing by his side talking shit and - l-long story short, he died of hypothermia out in the open s-streets.”
      “Oh my god - ” Arthur had stopped this time, his eyes wide open in horror, his face even paler than usual.
      “Don’t be sorry for me, I s-suppose it was better that way, both for him and for me.”
      “I don’t - I - First of all, I’m incredibly sorry, but I… I was there…”
      “What?” He suddenly pulled out the journal she’d seen him scribble in sometimes from his back pocket and opened his notes, quickly turning the pages until he seemingly landed on the one he was looking for, about half-way through the notebook.
      “I was on my way home and there was an ambulance and I got curious and I saw him, I saw… I’m so sorry, Wanda.”
      She stepped closer to him, her eyes roaming over the messy pages up to where his fingers were pointing.

      I noticed that there was an ambulance and the paramedics were standing over the homeless man. I walked over because I was interested in what happened to him as I got near them I heard them say “what a way to go on the side walk.” what?? can you imagine that??? dead on the sidewalk with people stepping over you. Maybe he’s happier.

      Her eyes welled up with tears again, and she quickly turned her head away from him, swallowing them up silently.
      “It’s fine, really, just sorry you had to s-see that.”
      “No I’m… I’m the one who’s sorry, really. But then…” His voice was back to the careful, caring guy as he quickly closed the diary and caught back up with her. “What happened with your… your… the guy you were talking about?”
      “Oh, yes, he… I met him after I m-moved here, and as dad got worse and worse, he was really the only p-person I had - the only one that was… there for me, I guess.”
      Arthur nodded, and she thought she could see just a glimmer of understanding in his eyes. He also only had his mum.
      “I thought he was nice and a g-good guy, I didn’t see how he started to manipulate me; how he made me do things I didn’t want by making me feel g-guilty, or how he was constantly lying, I didn’t see any of that - not until he started to get aggressive and v-v-violent with me.” She could see Arthur turning away discretely out of the corner of her eye, his eyebrows furrowed, casting a deep shadow over his usually bright eyes.

      “After my dad had passed, I was crushed. Not necessarily b-because of his death, I told you, I knew it was probably f-for the best, but I suddenly couldn’t see any meaning in what I was doing a-anymore. My parents were dead, I didn’t really have any f-friends, my colleagues hated me almost as much as I d-despised them so all I had left was Nathan, and I knew that s-something was… off in our relationship.”
      They turned a corner to another street, and Wanda could see the multi-story apartment building she was living in in the far right end of her field of vision.
      “Then, one day, he went too far. He’d started to ‘punish’ me every n-now and again for irrelevant things he ge-genuinely saw as mistakes and flaws of mine, and that day he… he locked me in the b-bathroom to teach me a l-lesson with no way of getting out and just… left, for days. He told the neighbours that he was going to have a party, and that they shouldn’t listen to any n-noises they might hear.” S he stopped after they’d crossed the streets towards the white, grimy building, only a couple of metres from the front entrance and shrugged as if it was the most natural reaction.
      “Well, thankfully somebody did listen, and it’s a l-long story, but I got away. Hadn’t seen him for a couple of weeks until that day you and I met, when he s-saw me in the city by chance and t-t-tried to…” She choked on her breath, the feeling of his breath on her ear and his hand on her throat all too real all of a sudden. “Well, I ran, and that’s that!”

      Wanda rubbed her eyes, which were tearing up, as casually as possible, but she could feel him tense up even further beside her.
      “I - I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry, that’s just - that’s really… how could anyone - ”
      Her hand darted forward to his arm in a meagre attempt at stopping his apologetic stuttering and closed around the fabric instinctively.
      “It’s alright, I’m fine now. R-Remember, you asked.”
      Wanda observed his worried expression transform into nervousness as she suddenly realised how close together they were standing. Her back was leaning against the wall and he was towering over her, his facial contour lit up dramatically by the street light just behind him.
      All words escaped her as she felt his warm breath fan over her face, and she could feel her heart beating so fast that it was actively threatening to burst out of her chest. His face was closer than it had ever been, the contours and premature wrinkles all too visible on his pale skin, but his closeness was making her hands tremble and her eyes flicker down to his lips.
      He moved closer, slowly but surely, and just as he was millimetres away from her and she was absolutely certain that he was leaning in to finally kiss her, he took a step back, mumbling a quick goodbye and was gone before she could even turn her head to look after him.
      When she awoke from her trance and turned to open her front door, she could still hear his faint nervous cackle in the distance.

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