Fic: your screams in my fantasy [standalone]
Title: your screams in my fantasy (are like music to me)
Author: xDawnie
Fandom: he Dark Knight
Warnings: pg-16, general screwed-upness and the Joker being a freak. Slash.
Rating: PG16
Disclaimer: The Joker and Batman belong to DC, but this version of the Joker in particular belongs to Christopher Nolan.
Dedication: None
Beta: chaoschild92
Summary:The Joker has no origin. No place has he called home that he can remember, no lovingly abusive parents, no best friends, older brothers he worships or younger sisters to bully. He has no traumas he can recall, no childhood enemies, no childhood. He simply was.
A/N: haven't written anything new in a while that doesn't have to do with school... And this fic was sort of hard to write. Maybe I'm just looking a little too hard into the Joker's character
What is your satisfaction?
I’ll give you all you need.
...
I want you to notice
what you've been missing...
I want you to notice
What you’ve been missing.
obsession; Innerpartysystem
‘Some people take things a little too… seriously.
Lives, for example. One man gets threatened and the whole city goes crazy! It’s such a boring response. Just one - one man. And everybody runs around like useless, headless creatures. Surely they could tap into some other reflex. Like me! I don’t start panicking when one of my men is threatened, oh no. In fact, I welcome it. A sacrifice… for another attempt in the future.
And of course, the whimpering gets annoying after a while. So I just let them take him away…
It’s not like they know much. Ignorant dogs are the best kind.
They’ll never understand me. No, they’re too low for that. There’s only one man who could… if he tried.
The Batman.’
The Joker has no origin. No place has he called home that he can remember, no lovingly abusive parents, no best friends, older brothers he worships or younger sisters to bully. He has no traumas he can recall, no childhood enemies, no childhood. He simply was.
He does things on a whim, does them because he wants to, or because he’s bored. He’s a car-chaser, and a happy one at that. He likes where he is, what he’s done, and what challenges there will be to face and defeat, until the world is beautifully, blissfully broken. With him as its pioneer.
He has his fetishes (pain, screaming, so beautiful), his guilty pleasures. Makeup is not one of those, but the butterfly knife (that he still can’t perform tricks all that well with) is. He eats like everyone else, sleeps occasionally and knows things. Sees them happen. Makes them happen.
He doesn’t lie, he speaks half-truths and lets the dogs run around figuring out the wrong things while he does what he actually means.
He’s a good man, really. Aside from the occasional homicide. But those are necessary. Experiments, if you will, to understand the human mind.
Just call him Doctor Joker. First name The.
The Batman is a man of mystery, of intrigue. If he was a little less aggressive with every meeting, the Joker might invite him out to tea. He’s a curious person, but not curious enough to want to be beaten to pulp by an enormous bat.
Maybe once he’s got the Batman under his heel he’ll have a nice little chat with him. Wouldn’t that be simply charming. He’ll offer tea and biscuits - he’s even planned what kind to get.
He hasn’t seen anything like the way he moves - almost a shadow, but not. A man.
The Batman.
Such a lovely coincidence, sharing first names. Even if isn’t his real one.
Maybe the Joker’s a little obsessed with the big Bat. But he’s just so big and strong, how can he ever resist? How can anyone?
Of course it was never planned. Nothing with the Joker ever is. The obsession simply means a reason. The Bat isn’t simply an obstacle anymore, he’s an equal. The Dark Knight against the one with no rules.
It’s a romance in the making - they fight, and eventually, eventually one of them will be pinned and pleading, begging to be fucked into the floor, into the wall. And the Joker will give it to him, if only to break the Bat, humiliate him further. And then he’ll break him differently, nice and slow, and throw him out in the streets with blood running down his legs, pooling around his wrecked physical form. Then the Joker will watch from afar in triumph and glee as the destroyed hero tries to pick himself up...
But it’s really just a fantasy. He’d never break him, oh no. Where would the fun be in that? Right now the Bat is so much fun to play with, like a cat with a ball of yarn. But this ball of yarn rolls towards the paw instead of away. And the Joker loves it.
One day, though. One day he’ll get tired of all of the Bat, be able to predict each and every movement with whatever he does.
One day.