Chapter 3-

Hey, look at that, we're back again. X)

Super sorry this didn't appear yesterday! I screwed up and got my tablet taken away for a day. D: I know right? Anyways. Back now. X)

So one of the biggest criticisms that you guys had was that the last chapter was incredibly similar to the movie. You are correct, and this did bother me as well. The problem was that they did have to have a relatively similar backstory or they wouldn't have turned out the same. Now, though, I plan on changing it up. We're gonna skip ahead a year and see how our swapped characters are doing.

And, yes, I promise I'll start to vary the storyline some more. I'm just nervous because it's my first time writing these characters. Sorry everyone. :)

But! Maruharukaru has given me permission to change as I wish! XD So expect some drastic changes from now on.

A reminder, this story will only be Joker and Harley POVs. They might vary one and a while, but for the most part it's all going to be circled around Joker.

So, who else wanted to know how the Joker came across his tattoos?

Shall we?

"This just in, there are multiple casualties at the Arkham Asylum this morning, where reports have it that Patient 104 : Harleen Quinzel escaped from custody in an all-out gun barrage on the facility. One employee, whose name hasn't been released to the public, has also gone missing in the attack."

"Quinzel is described to have platinum blonde hair, blue eyes and usually wears both red and blue eye makeup. She is legally mentally unstable. If spotted, do not approach, call authorities immediately. I repeat, if spotted, report to the authorities immediately. Quinzel is armed and dangerous."

"On other news, while the identity of the missing person from the Arkham Asylum attack last month will not be released, it is confirmed that the victim is male, last seen with brown hair and dark blue eyes. He was last seen in a white lab coat, maroon button up and black slacks."

"Police have released reports of a break in at Ace Chemicals, a local chemical plant in Gotham City. The break in is believed to be connected to the Arkham Asylum massacre, where Patient 104: Harleen Quinzel escaped and is yet to resurface."

"Locals are still advised to alert authorities if the missing man is spotted. Back to you Barbara."

The Joker tilted his head.

He didn't believe anyone would recognize the missing man if he was seen out on the streets. He could waltz right down and the only reason people would call the authorities would be that he had a gun in his hand and a smile on his face. The chemicals he'd leapt into only a few months ago had affected the roots of his hair, burning them an almost neon green. His eyebrows had been singed off.

It wasn't just the chemicals, either. Harley had a hand in his transformation. She loved his smile. She always had. But sometimes—mostly when he had those pesky thoughts about life before Harley, or turning himself in—he didn't smile. She never liked that.

One day she had dragged him over to one of the many apartments she had scattered throughout the city, and pulled out a tattoo gun.

She'd tattooed across his abs, a wide grin, and told him playfully "Puddin', I love your smile, but you never show me it, so I'll have to look at this one instead." She smiled widely as he stared at the new tattoo.

He didn't mind it, really, it wasn't that bad.

The only major problem in life was the Bat that showed up a couple days after their first major massacre in downtown Gotham. What a joke, that guy, and this was coming from him. The Joker had fought for a bit, knife versus fists, while Harley took a few strong swings with her bat and fired a few rounds from her gun. They'd ended up leaving when the party got boring. That night they'd returned to the most permanent home they owned, and had a bit of fun.

"What'd'ya think?" The Joker jumped to the top of the glass living room table, a look of dead seriousness on his face. He pulled his arm across his face like he'd seen the Bat do. "Do I look like Batman...?" He asked with a gravelly tone.

Harley cracked up at that. "Too much like him!" She remarked with a giggle. "Come 'ere."

She drew him down and pulled out the tattoo gun once more, scrawling a large grin on his forearm. Once finished, the Joker showed off his new ink with the pose again.

"There," she nodded happily. "Let's see how the bat likes that."

It soon became a weekly process. One tattoo every week. Sometimes every other day.

At the beginning it was all Harley's doing, and a collaboration of their choices. More smiles, mainly. One crossed over the back of his left shoulder, and another found its home on the upper right of his back. A robin, one of Harley's favorite birds, had been added to the collection on his right bicep.

His first choice, made alone without Harley, was a deck of cards drawn across the left side of his collarbone. His second was a small "J" under his left eye. After that it was a skull in a jester's hat over the right side of his chest. The name "Joker" in big letters in the middle of his torso. He penned in "Ha" three times under the deck of cards while looking in the mirror. Three more. Another three. It still didn't look right. Eventually the entire left side of his chest covered in "Ha's" and then so was his left forearm after his chest began to burn unbearably.

The "Ha's" were still healing that day.

The day when Harley introduced him to the concept of murder. It wasn't that he was unfamiliar to it, because Harley killed people all the time…but this one was different.

"Say it, asshole!" She swung her decorated bat low, and hit the man square in the ribs. A loud crackling couple of snaps found their way to Mr. J's ears. "Apologize!" Another swing, another crack.

The Joker barely heard what was going on, relaxing on a bar stool to the left of the action and peering over the counter at a mirror behind the bar. He ran a hand through his rough green hair and tilted his head backwards slightly to see himself from another angle. He rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, revealing the healing tattoos that dabbed his white sleeves with blood. A side glance was thrown at the dead bar tender, who was sprawled across the floor, brains spilling out onto the tile.

The place was practically empty as far as company went. There was Harley, himself, the man on the ground, the dead bartender and a group of mobsters with their hands on their heads. The group belonged to the man that Harley was brutally beating, about 20 guys total. A couple of Harley's guys made up the last of the room's occupants, guns pointed at the mobsters and keeping them in place.

"Apologize to my Puddin' for what you said!" growled Harley as she brought down the bat again, this time on the guy's ankle. The man cried out and a loud snap sounded.

The Joker couldn't help but not care. After all, he was no "Green haired freak" and certainly not "one sick fuck" so the man deserved it.

"Say it, you worthless—" the bat was brought down and the man released another cry. "—mother—" another swing. "—fucker!" Again.

"I'm sorry!" burst he man suddenly.

Harley threatened the bat and the man whimpered. "Sorry, who?"

"I'm sorry—" the man hesitated. "Puddin'?"

Harley smiled as if impressed and happy, but it quickly turned to her baring her teeth. "You don't call him that!"

The bastard was crying now. Mr. J was impressed he held out that long. A mess of broken bones, blood and tears in a heap on the floor. Sobbing his eyes out because of a couple fractures. What a pussy, he thought with bored eyes.

"I'm sorry, Mr.J!" the man shouted.

"You're lying!" snapped Harley, eyebrows furrowed.

"I'm not!" begged the man.

Harley pulled out one of the spare guns and the man's eyes widened.

"Listen, you sick bitch! I'm not lying!"

Narrowing her eyes, Harley suddenly spun the gun gunslinger style on her finger, catching it by the barrel. Her eyes remained glued to the man, but the gun was pointed at Mr.J. He raised a brow, pressing two lipstick covered lips together (Harley thought it brought out his smile). Stepping off of the barstool with an elegant hop, he carefully took the firearm in his hand, weighing it with a mask of seriousness over his concern.

He readjusted his grip, pointing the gun at the mobster's head, knowing that he'd never be the same if he did this. Would he be guilty? After this he wouldn't be the victim on TV, he'd be a new criminal on the wanted list. A crime lord. Lord. That sounded ridiculous. He was no lord. He was a prince.

And this was his kingdom.

In an instant the trigger had been pulled and the man was dead.

With a slowly growing smile and narrowed eyes, the Joker stepped over the corpse, blood painting the bottom of his shoes as he walked over to the group of mobsters in the corner. He pulled the trigger again, sending another man to the ground. The smell of gunpowder filled his nostrils and he narrowed his eyes further, mouth opened slightly in concentration.

He fired again and again. A wicked grin appeared as he took out every last one. Wait. Last one? No. There had to be more. Trigger happy and enjoying himself completely, he fired into the corpses again, reloaded in a second and spun, sending a bullet into each of Harley's henchmen's foreheads. They crumpled, the smell of iron and gunpowder breaking Mr.J from his trance.

"Next time," he said breathily. "I'll have to try that bat a' yours." Harley giggled.

"Maybe we should getcha one of your own, huh Puddin'?" she smiled.

He sent her a smirk, liking the idea. Maybe not a bat. He needed something fit for a prince. Something elegant. Something professional. A cane of sorts perhaps. He raised his hands and let the gun slip from his fingers, clattering to the ground. He held out his hand.

"M'lady…?" He thought for a moment. "Shall we…take our leave?" He asked with the voice of a madman.

Harley bounced over, professionally skipping over bodies and puddles of blood, bat in hand. She took his arm. He'd just seen a mass murder. The memory would never leave him. And the best part?

He'd pulled the trigger.

Okay everyone! So this is PART 1 of 2! I was super intrigued by Joker's tattoos in the movie, and so I decided to write how I thought he received them and the ideas for them. The next chapter explains the remaining tattoos (the hand smile and a few others), so I hope you're excited. :)

Please let me know what you think and feel free to drop a review about what you'd like to see or what you'd like me to explain (for example, I just explained how he got his tattoos). :)

Thank you all for reviewing, favoriting and following! It means so much to me, because this is the first time that my inbox has been spammed consecutively over a few days.

I'll update again tomorrow!

-AG