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@onebadday
The Joker by Dan Mora!
Batman & Joker by Bill Sienkiewicz
💚 He's so beautiful 💚
Challenge. Emotions.
7. Batman catches Joker naked // @onebadday
he’s in the shadows of the window, watching. the only thing visible against the light is the very tips of his ears, indistinguishable from leaves in the night wind. joker is skinny, smaller even than he’d imagined without the dramatic pretenses and the gaudy clothes. his bones are prominent, skin almost blindingly white and scarred. it draws him in in a twisted way he can’t explain - seeing his worst enemy so vulnerable.
from here, he can see the cuts and bruises that he himself inflicted, and it brings him a swirling sense of satisfaction to know that he must be hurting. he has too many scars to count from joker, cursed things scattered across every part of his body. it’s only fair that it go both ways.
Joker runs a lithe hand through dark green, wet hair. He shakes out the last remains of water from the strands before moving to a mirror to inspect his fresh wounds off on the side of his rib cage. He’s unadulterated in how naked he is, exposed in a way that seems inconsequential to him. It’s his hideout, he’s alone, what point is there to cover up? He’s gaunt in a way that’s telling, some, if not all of his bones seem near visible through the skin and it’s a wonder how this man, this embodiment of chaos can match blow for blow with the Dark Knight.
It’s unnatural, the allure that ebbs off him in waves as he slides long fingers over the two cuts to his side. It’ll scar like all the others, nothing too dramatic. It’s a moment longer as he stares at the damaged skin before he prods at the open wounds, realeasing a slow and sharp hiss when he digs and causes it to hurt more.
Joker #1
by Raf Grassetti
onebadday:
The world spins when Batman hoists him up and slams him on the ground. The rushing wind and sudden harshness of the floor is enough to cause ringing in his ears. Joker cracks a gurgled laugh, somewhere stuck between his throat and heaving lungs. Seeing double the Bat cracks him up and Joker’s eyes refocus on the heavy anger as a merciless boot crushes his arm. Pain blooms like the Fourth of July, flooding his head with all types of chemicals. He can’t stop laughing. It’s just so funny.
“You won’t get to them in time, Batsy. Give up! What’s a few more rats to be swallowed up by Gotham’s dark prince, Hrm?”
“you’re sick,” he rasps. at least with a broken arm he’ll be less dangerous. marginally. he straddles joker’s legs before pulling aside his coat and digging in the pockets. there’s probably something sharp in there and he wouldn’t if he didn’t have his heavy gloves around his fingers. he’s seen the razorblades they pull out of him when they treat him in arkham.
there has to be some kind of clue. “i’m going to find them. i’m leaving you here for the GCPD.” joker’s been out of arkham for too long. wreaking too much havoc. ruining too many lives, before bruce can catch him and fix the city. sew up one of her wounds, at least temporarily. he pulls as much as he can out of joker’s pockets.
He could eat a turkey whole with the grin Batman leaves on his face. The broken arm is nothing, a blip in the face of his glee to making Batman suffer. Joker watches him shift through his coat pockets, digging for a hint, the key, anything left on him that could give Batman the upper hand in their exchange. He pulls out an assortment of weapons the likes of which could kill anyone else grabbing at his person. Batman is smarter, he’s more clever than the average bear and he wants the treat. Perhaps Joker should give it to him.
“Those fools will lose me the second I’m out of your sight. What matters more to you, their lives or watching me locked up in Arkham?”
Arthur Fleck 🤡
Make me
Cont. || @becomeabat
Joker takes a sharp inhale of air and tries to breath under the blossom of pain that spreads across his chest, it’s slight but it comes and goes as he falls back. The kick has him flat on his ass and the rain douses him like a rat wading through sewage. He still laughs, crazed and amused, feeling the grime cake across his suit, soaking into his skin. It’s everywhere and all too quickly Batman is on him, straddling him. Joker has two seconds to recover before Batman violently grabs his collar and pulls to become a punching bag. Each hit is met with a sick gurgling sound, his mouth full of blood as he laughs and spits in the face of Bruce’s anger.
It’s visceral, it’s alive and it wants to consume him whole. Joker wants to nurture it, to feed it and watch the Bat sink further until he can’t make heads or tails of what’s up or down. “You’re gonna have to try harder than this...Brucey!” He snorts, blocking a punch with his arm, finally getting some bite back into his veins as he loops their fingers together and holds one fist away. “Where’s all that training of yours Hrm? Down the drain?” He mocks just as easily as he squirms pushing back against the weight trying to crush him, turn him into dust.
joker