What's your opinion on Jason and clowns? I don't think he'd necessarily be afraid of them? (There was that one thing where he got dosed by scarecrow and just spent 20 minutes slamming his head into a window because he said he wasn't afraid of anything since he died, but I couldn't tell if that was a joke or something??)
I figure maybe he hates them, the only one we ever really see him interact with is the Joker and we know how that usually goes. I'm not even super sure if he's ever met Harley, from what I've seen, but I'm sure you know like way more.
Okay so I looked through a bunch of things and the only clown I see him interact with the Joker and that time he got Dick to dress up as a clown for a job which I will get to.
So I’m going to assume you don’t count Jason first backstory which was a rip off of dick in the most obvious way possible. Because he would have known a ton of clowns this way. (Batman #357)
So definitely the Joker he fucking hates. Murders him in a non-canon story so pretty clear on his opinion of him. Tho that’s more biblical justice since the joker killed him first. (Batman #428) (Batman: The Three Jokers)
As far as Harley Quinn goes, in the Arkham Knight story (non-canon) age tortures him and I don’t think he’s a fan of hers.
The only other interaction I found was when he had a case with the outlaws in the circus and he talked Dick into joining them as a clown. (Red Hood and the Outlaws vol. 2 annual 1)
So no he doesn’t have a clown phobia. He just really fucking hates the joker which I can’t blame him. There is one interesting note that Dick didn’t wear any face paint. Which is a little unusual. Maybe Jason has divorced the joker from all over clowns. I mean, he’s not even official. But maybe Jason is cool as long as there isn’t any face paint. Or it had nothing to do with the past and the artists didn’t want to cover up Dick’s pretty face. I don’t know.
But no he doesn’t seem to hate all clowns. Just the asshole that murdered him.
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Jerome Valeska x Reader
I'm still tryna speed up events here because I rlly rlly wanna get to the good part i have planned okay
Series Summary: Two lives can start very differently, but it's never the beginning that makes the story. It's the the journey the lives take that eventually bring them down the same path.
Chapter Warnings: mentions of death, fluff, angst, mentions of murder.
After a few days with Galavan's personal health worker, I began to feel like brand new. Jerome had been right by my side nearly the entire time, minus the moments when he and Galavan were plotting the next Maniax strike.
I wished I could attend the big blow out at the police station tomorrow, because I would hate to miss such a big event. I also wanted them to know I was still alive, and that they couldn't just kill me so easily. I wasn't necessarily a force to be reckoned with, but I certainly wasn't a pansy that would die with one shot.
I got up more on my feet with each day since the shot, and I thought myself to be ready enough for the grand mission, though Galavan insisted I stay. As much as it pained Jerome to see the look on my face, he agreed as well.
"You just got the stitches out yesterday, just stay here and I'll be back before you know it." He rubbed up and down my arms. The scene was sweet and momentous, as if a man was leaving his girl for a business affair, and would return for her when he was finished. However the task at hand was far from a business affair.
"I know.... Just promise you'll get that cop that shot me?" I asked, glancing up at him with a sad look upon my features.
"Of course, princess. He'll pay for what he did to you." Jerome's voice got darker when he neared the end of his words, his hand coming down to the spot on my side that was still healing. I couldn't really even feel it anymore, but the pain around it still made me a little sluggish.
"Be careful, I don't need you getting shot too." I said, straightening out his uniform, which was an exact replica of the one's the GCPD wore.
"We'll be okay. Galavan is sending in backup this time, so there won't be any chances." He convinced me, and I knew he would do a great job. He always did. His showmanship, his stage presence, all were charismatic details about him that made him special. He was purely captivating.
"You know, you'd be a good looking cop.... if you were into that sort of thing." I laughed.
"Abiding by the law is not as fun as breaking it, my dear." He said in a sing song voice, turning the end into a long whistle. He was a great whistler, and when I wanted to hear a certain song he gave it every time.
"That's certainly true. Go get em, tiger." I said, pressing a firm kiss to his lips and sitting back on the heels of my feet. He was unsatisfied with that, pulling me back in for one more. "I love you, ya psycho."
"I love you more, ya little maniac." He wrapped his arms around me one last time, holding me close to his chest before he was off. He turned back around from the door, tipping his hat to me and winking.
When he was gone I sighed, leaning against one of the bedframe's giant colums. He was such an amazing boy, truly. He was going to rule the world someday, whether he knew it or not. Gotham was going to bend to his will.
The amount of people that feared him was many, but I had a feeling the amount of people who believed in him would be bigger. Sure, he was a matricidal freak that escaped an asylum where he'd been held since his first murder... everyone has to start somehwhere. He was going to make people see him a little differently.
Later that night, when Jerome was safe and sound, back at Galavan's penthouse, we got nestled down into bed and watched as they rolled the footage of today's massacre on the news. I smiled as I saw the tape recording begin to play. They even put out a viewer discretion warning before they played Jerome's clip.
"Ya hear that? I might be disturbing to some viewers." He laughed his signature maniacal cackle, and already I had a smile on my face.
While watching the video, I couldn't help but admire the way he looked. So happy to be in his element, and simply taking it all in. His little speech to the citizens of Gotham had me in stitches, but also gave me goosebumps. He was quite the entertainer, and he knew it.
The clip ended on his laugh again, and boy did it make me feel things. This crazy ginger did things to me that he didn't even realize. I could go on and on about the way his smile made me weak, or how the way he spoke gave me chills, but in this moment I simply felt like showing him how he made me feel.
I threw my leg over him, sitting up so that I straddled him on either side. He didn't even act surprised, he just smiled and quirked an eyebrow, as if he was somehow expecting this to happen.
"Am I in for it?" He questioned, already knowing the answer but pining for it anyway.
"You have no idea."
The morning after, I awoke to an empty bed. I wasn't disappointed, for I must have overslept by a lot for Jerome to have already gotten up without disturbing me whatsoever. He wasn't really an early riser, so the fact that he was not only awake, but out of bed before me was a shock.
I pulled on the shirt he'd tossed to the floor and a pair of underwear, making sure that the shirt was long enough to cover up without needing shorts. When I found that the shirt hung by my knees, I left the room, content on my journey around the penthouse to find my boyfriend.
I stepped inside the main room to find Galavan and Jerome leaned over a table, discussing important plans. Galavan noticed me enter first, and without shame he looked me up and down. I wasn't necessarily as fun to look at as Barbara, but I suppose in my state of dress I could be found desirable. Too bad I only had eyes for the ginger.
When Jerome caught the stare Galavan was giving me, specifically my legs, he walked over and blocked me from the older man's view. I wasn't sure what the meaning was, for I didn't know the harm that was being done, but Jerome stood in his place unwavering.
"I'm sorry I left so early, but we've got big news." Jerome smiled, grabbing both sides of my waist and pulling me closer.
"Tell me." I said enthusiastically.
"I get to kill my father tomorrow.... and you're gonna help me. After that we're gonna crash a charity ball." He spoke with such fluidity and excitement to the death of his father, who, by understanding, was just as much of a jerk as his mother.
"Murder?" Something changed in my eyes, they became dark and infatuated with the idea of driving his father to the place of death his mother currently was.
"Murder..." he said seriously, with a spooky, eerieness to his tone, but then his smile spread and his laugh gave me small chuckles of my own.
We had a busy day tomorrow.
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