introdvceanarchy:
the scars that marred his face are a large turnoff for most, his warped mind doing the rest when it came to scarring the strongest of hearts. at the same time those two things pulled everyone in like a chaotic, black hole. his scars peaked a grotesque curiosity and he was charming in the most macabre sense. the chills his smile invoked did not hold a candle to the seductive poison of his words. joker saw himself as horrifyingly beautiful and he would have it no other way. no one could look at him without seeing the darkest parts of their souls reflected back tenfold and he provided the comfort that no one could ever be as mad as him. his fun was shocking the populous out of that illusion by hundreds or one by one, they would all fall down the rabbit hole.
the warmth of her thighs as they framed his own and that daring smirk made him quirk a brow, wondering what little alice would dare to do next. she was more vixen than girl at the moment and not even joker could deny the sliver of want that tugged at his being. being reminded of how utterly human he is was no fun but the clown’s senses were running haywire with the need to pull the brunette further into his reality. a reality that made as much sense as he did. his tongue came out to wet his crimson lips, gentle enough that he rarely disturbed the thick makeup covering his mangled skin. the palms of his hands came to rest on her hips, fingers tapping out a wayward rhythm as he stared into her dark hues. she was a young beauty but beautiful none the less. if she was going to push him this far joker saw no point in not giving her everything she dared to ask of him. “nothing to run from,” he remarked cleanly, smugness leaking from his smile as he leaned forward, breath fanning over her features as he spoke. “show you ?” he released a dim chuckle, fingers digging in slightly to the flesh of her hips. that kiss seemed to erase all lines and boundaries for the young vigilante and joker wondered what the capes would think if they saw their precious alice sitting comfortable in the lap of the murderous clown prince. the thought made him laugh but he cut it short, wanting to remain a man of his word even if he had still yet to promise her anything, he wanted her to believe that he was the only one bad enough to deliver.
joker clicked his tongue, furthering closing the slight distance between their lips as he spoke his last piece. “no funny business this time around.” his grin fell just as he crashed their lips together, drawing her further into his being as his grip slackened, arms sliding further around her waist to pull her against every hard line of his lithe figure. underneath the scars and madness, joker might me considered handsome but this position had nothing to do with his looks. he supposed, in a saner part of his mind, that he should appreciate that but it was silenced as he pressed further, deeper as if he was attempting nothing less than consuming her like the darkness swallowing the last flicker of light in a burnt out candle.
how desperately a mistake they made in ignoring her flaws; the deeper ones, not her volatility nor her impulsiveness, but the fact that she enjoyed the blood that she spilled, that she does not regret killing (and a part of her was thrilled, in the throes of her revenge). they softened her, insisted on her goodness, and then swathed her in love and light; approving of her fight, wanting her to come all the way over to their side. (he’s taken advantage of that, you see? when you’re supposed to fear it, to not acknowledge it, it’s so easy to turn that against you. and he’s done that).
his mouth was savage on hers, chasing away any potential thoughts left towards those she loved. it was unexpected; but then so was everything. an abrupt change from laughter to none, to just the heat of him - so human in a way that didn’t make sense, that particles in lori’s body wanted to reject entirely because there’s a line between the two; of being human and not being human and this... this is the latter, isn’t it? yet his mouth is on hers, and the force with which he did it was rough, wanting, in a way that was familiar but the degree in which he did it was not. she’s been wanted before, yes, by boys in high-school whose endgame was always the same, in lori’s experience. distantly, she remembered nearly killing kyle and dana- and then she gasped into his mouth; a gaping maw, a bottomless, black chasm. being pulled against him, he felt very human; warm-blooded, with flesh and a beating heart. his kiss was deep, warm and dry against her lips and her head was filled with a feeling that was both hot and cool. he was- unrelenting; like a forest fire consuming everything in its’ path, like a riptide dragging everything down below the surface; like every natural disaster lori has ever heard of contained in one man, in the points of contact between them. his grip almost hurt, where his fingers dug into her body, arms wrapped around her that was equally controlling as it was intimate. fingers dug into his green hair, a mess of strands at the nape of his neck. what would he look like without the mask? she thought that once, during the second encounter. she can’t imagine it; when she thinks of- what she associates with him is blood red, deathly white, a poisonous green; laughter upon laughter, and burning and nothing but pitch black. he was everything she should stay away from. but lori was self destructive, like this side of an itch; and she didn’t even really know it. the girl couldn’t stop it. (who was she kidding? that was a lie- she was black alice, terror to all who ride the arcane; she just didn’t want to stop it).
she shuddered, scared to give in. god, if she did, what would happen? if she lost control, who would she become without it? he would be everything, and she would be nothing; and drowning herself in the consuming taste of his mouth was... she was worth more than that. she was worth more than to just be consumed. so instead of giving in, she gives back. her lips move urgently against his, nails digging in, before dragging away, down his shoulders, down his chest. if she was going to do this, she was going to do this willingly. she was going to choose this, choose him; the joker and all his darkness and all his hunger. “take off your shirt.” she murmured, when air became a more desperate need than heat. (admittedly, lori didn’t know what she was doing. but she was going to go through with it, all the way down. she was already there, after all). lori wasn’t going to be snuffed out; she was going to reborn. in the scant space between their bodies, she was going to turn into someone who didn’t need the light. not anymore.
