Batman: Something Different
Title: Something Different
Author: Magick
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Joker/Batman
Warnings: RAPE
Summary: The Joker thought that Batman was something different, but he was wrong.
Bruce shook his head in effort to clear it but found the fog clouding his mind too thick to be shaken away. After a moment of concentration he gathered enough willpower to open his eyes-but immediately wished he hadn’t. The room he was held captive in was blindingly bright and even the protection of his mask was not enough to shield his eyes. A quick mental scan of his body told Bruce that he was lying on a lumpy mattress with his hands and feet shackled to the bedposts. His armor was still intact and his mask still in place-leaving the billionaire quite confused about his captor. Who would kidnap him but not seek out his identity?
Then the door opened and Bruce was given his answer in the form of the Joker-wearing a white nurse’s dress and carrying a tray of food. The odd man shuffled over to the bed and sat the tray down forcibly then threw himself onto the bed along side Bruce.
“Fancy meeting you here. Are you hungry? Would you like some breakfast?” The Joker asked, his voice uncharacteristically mild.
Bruce watched as the Joker grabbed a bowl off the tray and stir it with a spoon before scooping some of the thick porridge out of it and bringing it to Bruce’s lips.
“Come on Batman, surely you’re hungry after such a fight! You punched and kicked and even threw a dog or two! It wasn’t until I threw a smoke bomb and you fell-hitting your poor widdle head-that you finally slept.” The Joker laughed as he tried to thrust the spoon between Bruce’s tightly closed lips but he only succeeded in smearing the tacky mess all around his mouth.
“Fine, you’re not hungry then!” He exclaimed, upending the tray and laughing as it slammed into the opposite wall.
“If you’re not hungry, then what are you?” The Joker asked, pulling a knife from the open V at the neck of his dress and straddling Bruce’s hips.
“You must be something under all this armor! You have a nice, masculine jaw but it’s a pity that that’s all you get to see.” He continued with a dark chuckle.
The Joker trailed his knife down Bruce’s chest plate and around until he found a vulnerable spot right at his hip. Grinning he plunged it between the protective plates and sliced upwards-delighting further in the way Bruce winced when the knife cut him.
He worked diligently until the armor began to come off in small pieces. He pulled the dark material off in sections until Bruce was left only in his bracers, shin guards and mask. The Joker smirked as the toyed with the ears on his mask but he did not take it off.
“Well, you are a man underneath all that money after all. How disappointing! I was hoping you were something more, something different, strange-even alien.” The last word was emphasized by the Joker pressing the knife forward to cut just his cheek just below his mask.
“Are you curious as to why your mask is still on, Batman? I don’t want to know who you are. I’m not Harvey Dent or the scared public-I am the Joker and you are Batman. You complete me because I’m the crazy evil guy who’s blowing things up! And you’re the hero coming in to stop me! Do you see the pattern Batman? I kill someone, you chase after me! But this time, I have captured you.” The maniacal laughter Bruce had come to associate with the Joker became quiet as he teasingly traced circles on his chest with the knife.
“Now, now, now, what shall we do with you?” The Joker said softly, tossing his knife aside and running his dirty hands down Bruce’s torso. He was bleeding quite freely from several cuts-though nothing serious and the Joker seemed to be gathering the warm liquid in his hands.
“You know, a sign of insanity is answering your own questions but since you’re being so quiet I guess I’ll have to answer for you.” He smiled grimly at Bruce before climbing off the bed and slowly unbuttoning his vest and shirt.
Bruce’s mind blanked for a second. He couldn’t imagine what the Joker would need to remove his clothes for-then was shocked out of rational thought by the sight of the mans body, scarring covered almost every inch of his chest and Bruce could see that many of them wrapped around his sides. Some of the tissue looked like knife wounds, but more looked like burn scars.
“I bet you’re wondering where I go these scars. Well, you see, my mom only liked two things-smoking and hurting me. She’d combine her hobbies by taking her cigarettes and putting them out with my body. So, one day she falls asleep on the couch with a cigarette in her hand and I make sure it falls into something very flammable. The house goes up like a match but I’m caught by some of it. But that was nothing like what my dad used to do to me.” The Joker paused dramatically and grinned, but he after a moment of silence he seemed to decide not to continue. Bruce was confused by his sudden change in demeanor-the man went from raving to shaking his head angrily and muttering quietly to himself in seconds flat.
“You’ve got me dwelling on things that I don’t like to remember, Batman.” He said suddenly as he leapt back into the bed. He licked his lips then grabbed his belt buckle and shucked his pants, singing merrily to himself as he kicked the confining material to the end of the bed.
“I’d rather dwell on nicer things.” His smile was different this time and Bruce shivered nervously.
A tendril of fear slithered down Bruce’s spine as realization finally kicked in. He was chained to a bed, naked, with a psychopathic murderer astride his hips. He tried to tell himself that it was not Bruce Wayne that was in imminent danger of being raped but instead Batman-but his mind did not work that way. Bruce Wayne was Batman. And because of that fact, Bruce knew that he would be aware of this invasion to the very core of his being. To the Joker it was funny; he could literally fuck his foil instead of figuratively. For Bruce it was much more than that.
The blood that the Joker had scraped together a moment earlier was beginning to dry in Bruce’s bellybutton so the insane man hung off the side of the bed for a moment as he scrambled to find his discarded knife. He cried out in triumph when he hands found it and he pulled himself upright. Laughing once more he brought the red stained blade down haphazardly, careful not to mortally wound his prisoner but ensuring that bloody flowed freely from the wounds. Bruce withstood the attack as stoically as he could but he was dismayed to hear himself shout in pain.
“That’s more like it, Batman. Yell, beg me to stop. Maybe I will if you ask me nice enough-say the magic word.” The Joker chuckled at his own joke before once again tossing the knife aside and gathering up Bruce’s blood.
The Joker waited until he had Bruce’s full attention before bringing his blood slickened hands down to his erection. He smeared the warm liquid liberally on his cock-reaching up to gather more as Bruce’s terrified heart beat faster. Then the painted man scooted down and positioned himself between Bruce’s legs.
“I always like fucking people this way. I like to be face to face so I can see their expressions. Unfortunately, you’re a bit covered up but I do like you this way.” He licked his lips again then leaned down to lick Bruce’s.
Bruce gagged at the stale smell of the Jokers saliva on his face but otherwise kept himself in check. Then the Joker thrust forward and Bruce lost all control over his body.
A scream was torn from Bruce’s throat as fire ignited in his arse and rocketed up his spine. Without pause the Joker pulled back and slammed back in, forcing Bruce’s head to hit the bars and his shoulders to cramp up. It was almost too much for him and he saw his vision began to grey around the edges-but then the torture stopped and the Joker paused still sheathed inside of him.
“That’s it Batman-scream for me.”
The Joker set a brutal pace, giggling madly as his skin slapped forcefully against Bruce’s until the billionaire was sure that there would be bruises. Bruce was sure he’d pass out soon but every time he’d feel his consciousness begin to slip away the Joker would stop and wait for him to become lucid once more. After what felt like hours-but could have been just a few minutes-the Joker went taut and cackled madly as he came deep inside Bruce’s body.
The Joker slumped forward for a moment then pulled himself upright. He didn’t bother cleaning up, instead he grinned at the way semen and blood mingled on his and Batman’s bodies. He stood and began to dress, his entire demeanor dismissive to Bruce.
“I hope you don’t expect declarations of love Batman because while I do need you…” He let the sentence trail off with a dark chuckle.
Everything seemed dim to Bruce and he barely understood the Jokers taunt. The world tilted sickeningly on its axis causing Bruce to choke back bile just as he lost his hold on consciousness.
The Joker watched Bruce slump awkwardly in his manacles and rolled his eyes. With a put upon sigh he unlocked the caped crusader and arranged him carefully on the bed. He stood back to admire his work and couldn’t help thinking that something was missing. Inspiration struck him suddenly and ran his fingers through the bright red paint then traced Bruce’s lips. Painstakingly slow he drew a bright red grin on Batman’s face then quit the room in a dramatic flourish and ringing laugh-though the effect was lost on Batman. Slightly put out that his wonderful exit had been so wasted, the Joker peeked back into the room just long enough to blow a sarcastic kiss at the hunched form before leaving the room silent once more.
Author: Magick
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Joker/Batman
Warnings: RAPE
Summary: The Joker thought that Batman was something different, but he was wrong.
Bruce shook his head in effort to clear it but found the fog clouding his mind too thick to be shaken away. After a moment of concentration he gathered enough willpower to open his eyes-but immediately wished he hadn’t. The room he was held captive in was blindingly bright and even the protection of his mask was not enough to shield his eyes. A quick mental scan of his body told Bruce that he was lying on a lumpy mattress with his hands and feet shackled to the bedposts. His armor was still intact and his mask still in place-leaving the billionaire quite confused about his captor. Who would kidnap him but not seek out his identity?
Then the door opened and Bruce was given his answer in the form of the Joker-wearing a white nurse’s dress and carrying a tray of food. The odd man shuffled over to the bed and sat the tray down forcibly then threw himself onto the bed along side Bruce.
“Fancy meeting you here. Are you hungry? Would you like some breakfast?” The Joker asked, his voice uncharacteristically mild.
Bruce watched as the Joker grabbed a bowl off the tray and stir it with a spoon before scooping some of the thick porridge out of it and bringing it to Bruce’s lips.
“Come on Batman, surely you’re hungry after such a fight! You punched and kicked and even threw a dog or two! It wasn’t until I threw a smoke bomb and you fell-hitting your poor widdle head-that you finally slept.” The Joker laughed as he tried to thrust the spoon between Bruce’s tightly closed lips but he only succeeded in smearing the tacky mess all around his mouth.
“Fine, you’re not hungry then!” He exclaimed, upending the tray and laughing as it slammed into the opposite wall.
“If you’re not hungry, then what are you?” The Joker asked, pulling a knife from the open V at the neck of his dress and straddling Bruce’s hips.
“You must be something under all this armor! You have a nice, masculine jaw but it’s a pity that that’s all you get to see.” He continued with a dark chuckle.
The Joker trailed his knife down Bruce’s chest plate and around until he found a vulnerable spot right at his hip. Grinning he plunged it between the protective plates and sliced upwards-delighting further in the way Bruce winced when the knife cut him.
He worked diligently until the armor began to come off in small pieces. He pulled the dark material off in sections until Bruce was left only in his bracers, shin guards and mask. The Joker smirked as the toyed with the ears on his mask but he did not take it off.
“Well, you are a man underneath all that money after all. How disappointing! I was hoping you were something more, something different, strange-even alien.” The last word was emphasized by the Joker pressing the knife forward to cut just his cheek just below his mask.
“Are you curious as to why your mask is still on, Batman? I don’t want to know who you are. I’m not Harvey Dent or the scared public-I am the Joker and you are Batman. You complete me because I’m the crazy evil guy who’s blowing things up! And you’re the hero coming in to stop me! Do you see the pattern Batman? I kill someone, you chase after me! But this time, I have captured you.” The maniacal laughter Bruce had come to associate with the Joker became quiet as he teasingly traced circles on his chest with the knife.
“Now, now, now, what shall we do with you?” The Joker said softly, tossing his knife aside and running his dirty hands down Bruce’s torso. He was bleeding quite freely from several cuts-though nothing serious and the Joker seemed to be gathering the warm liquid in his hands.
“You know, a sign of insanity is answering your own questions but since you’re being so quiet I guess I’ll have to answer for you.” He smiled grimly at Bruce before climbing off the bed and slowly unbuttoning his vest and shirt.
Bruce’s mind blanked for a second. He couldn’t imagine what the Joker would need to remove his clothes for-then was shocked out of rational thought by the sight of the mans body, scarring covered almost every inch of his chest and Bruce could see that many of them wrapped around his sides. Some of the tissue looked like knife wounds, but more looked like burn scars.
“I bet you’re wondering where I go these scars. Well, you see, my mom only liked two things-smoking and hurting me. She’d combine her hobbies by taking her cigarettes and putting them out with my body. So, one day she falls asleep on the couch with a cigarette in her hand and I make sure it falls into something very flammable. The house goes up like a match but I’m caught by some of it. But that was nothing like what my dad used to do to me.” The Joker paused dramatically and grinned, but he after a moment of silence he seemed to decide not to continue. Bruce was confused by his sudden change in demeanor-the man went from raving to shaking his head angrily and muttering quietly to himself in seconds flat.
“You’ve got me dwelling on things that I don’t like to remember, Batman.” He said suddenly as he leapt back into the bed. He licked his lips then grabbed his belt buckle and shucked his pants, singing merrily to himself as he kicked the confining material to the end of the bed.
“I’d rather dwell on nicer things.” His smile was different this time and Bruce shivered nervously.
A tendril of fear slithered down Bruce’s spine as realization finally kicked in. He was chained to a bed, naked, with a psychopathic murderer astride his hips. He tried to tell himself that it was not Bruce Wayne that was in imminent danger of being raped but instead Batman-but his mind did not work that way. Bruce Wayne was Batman. And because of that fact, Bruce knew that he would be aware of this invasion to the very core of his being. To the Joker it was funny; he could literally fuck his foil instead of figuratively. For Bruce it was much more than that.
The blood that the Joker had scraped together a moment earlier was beginning to dry in Bruce’s bellybutton so the insane man hung off the side of the bed for a moment as he scrambled to find his discarded knife. He cried out in triumph when he hands found it and he pulled himself upright. Laughing once more he brought the red stained blade down haphazardly, careful not to mortally wound his prisoner but ensuring that bloody flowed freely from the wounds. Bruce withstood the attack as stoically as he could but he was dismayed to hear himself shout in pain.
“That’s more like it, Batman. Yell, beg me to stop. Maybe I will if you ask me nice enough-say the magic word.” The Joker chuckled at his own joke before once again tossing the knife aside and gathering up Bruce’s blood.
The Joker waited until he had Bruce’s full attention before bringing his blood slickened hands down to his erection. He smeared the warm liquid liberally on his cock-reaching up to gather more as Bruce’s terrified heart beat faster. Then the painted man scooted down and positioned himself between Bruce’s legs.
“I always like fucking people this way. I like to be face to face so I can see their expressions. Unfortunately, you’re a bit covered up but I do like you this way.” He licked his lips again then leaned down to lick Bruce’s.
Bruce gagged at the stale smell of the Jokers saliva on his face but otherwise kept himself in check. Then the Joker thrust forward and Bruce lost all control over his body.
A scream was torn from Bruce’s throat as fire ignited in his arse and rocketed up his spine. Without pause the Joker pulled back and slammed back in, forcing Bruce’s head to hit the bars and his shoulders to cramp up. It was almost too much for him and he saw his vision began to grey around the edges-but then the torture stopped and the Joker paused still sheathed inside of him.
“That’s it Batman-scream for me.”
The Joker set a brutal pace, giggling madly as his skin slapped forcefully against Bruce’s until the billionaire was sure that there would be bruises. Bruce was sure he’d pass out soon but every time he’d feel his consciousness begin to slip away the Joker would stop and wait for him to become lucid once more. After what felt like hours-but could have been just a few minutes-the Joker went taut and cackled madly as he came deep inside Bruce’s body.
The Joker slumped forward for a moment then pulled himself upright. He didn’t bother cleaning up, instead he grinned at the way semen and blood mingled on his and Batman’s bodies. He stood and began to dress, his entire demeanor dismissive to Bruce.
“I hope you don’t expect declarations of love Batman because while I do need you…” He let the sentence trail off with a dark chuckle.
Everything seemed dim to Bruce and he barely understood the Jokers taunt. The world tilted sickeningly on its axis causing Bruce to choke back bile just as he lost his hold on consciousness.
The Joker watched Bruce slump awkwardly in his manacles and rolled his eyes. With a put upon sigh he unlocked the caped crusader and arranged him carefully on the bed. He stood back to admire his work and couldn’t help thinking that something was missing. Inspiration struck him suddenly and ran his fingers through the bright red paint then traced Bruce’s lips. Painstakingly slow he drew a bright red grin on Batman’s face then quit the room in a dramatic flourish and ringing laugh-though the effect was lost on Batman. Slightly put out that his wonderful exit had been so wasted, the Joker peeked back into the room just long enough to blow a sarcastic kiss at the hunched form before leaving the room silent once more.