his first laugh || arthur fleck x reader

chapter 9 - memories

"where are we?" I let out a mumble as we walked further. His warm, soft hands firmly laid on my closed eyes as he led me through leaves and moist air. His shaky breathing filled my ears, but I couldn't feel his anxiety. Usually, it would be too easy to spot if Arthur was panicking, but it seemed like this wasn't even Arthur at all.

A cold breeze caressed my skin as we strolled further. The leaves that brushed against my skin felt rougher and the moist air that I was unfamiliar with was starting to grow on me as the scent of its dead past slowly came back to life in my mind.

"Arthur, what the—"

"Let the feeling take over your body... your soul," he whispered softly into my ears as he slowly loosened his grip on me.

Torture. Anger. Hatred. All those feelings mixed up into a feeling of bewilderment and being unwanted. Being 'just a maid'. My heart was pounding with all those negativity I couldn't tell what was real and what wasn't. I couldn't differentiate the time anymore, it felt like three years ago. I felt angry tears gathering around my bloodshot eyes the more those memories flashed in my mind.

"Arthur, no..." my voice croaked as I slowly opened my eyes, revealing the familiar, wicked building I once called prison. My throat felt like as if it was about to throw itself out of my body. My emotions were choking me as I desperately gasped out for air, completely breathless.

"You have to face.. your demons," his hoarse voice roughens as he spoke the last word.

I shook my head, refusing to follow his instructions, but he couldn't take that as an answer. It felt like I was in 1977 all over again. That hellish dream. That endless nightmare. It was all coming true. The feeling of protest washed over me like a wave hitting its rock, completely soaking it with exhaustion and frustration.

I couldn't even squeak his name as I knew it wasn't even him that was with me.

But for Arthur, I needed to be strong.

"Wh-why are you doing this?" I turned around to face the man who I loved, but to see an expression I never thought I'd ever see in his face: power. Leading all my worst traits, strengthening my hatred.

His glance was elsewhere, but he seemed to put his mental focus on me. "You need to do this, for yourself."

"For... Carla."

That was it. One word that could utterly destroy me inside and build me up stronger. With a sharp exhale, I gathered myself and glared at the sly man behind me, my blood boiling with madness.

Before I could think, I subconsciously marched right into that house, then the aura of sickness and negativity surrounded me like an intimidating group of disrespectful, horny men. I looked around, everything was exactly the same— the vases, the portraits of her and her tiny, sick-looking husband. There wasn't a single, small change done to the house. I shook it off as I scanned around the room for Joker, but he was nowhere to be seen. He didn't even come into the house, but at that point that didn't matter.

My conscience was practically screaming at me to get out of the house, and honestly I really did want to leave, but my body just stood frozen like how I used to be in that very spot when Dameria would threaten me and mentally abuse me with her sharp, vicious words. It felt like I was back in that exact situation to the point where I could feel her dreadful presence right in front of me, grinning slyly like a demon. It felt... too real.

But I wasn't afraid. Not anymore. I couldn't be. I killed her, so I had the power.

"Dameria..." my shivering breath called out as my words echoed upon me. "You stupid bitch, your spirit is still trapped her, you can't leave."