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Title: Turn to Chaos
Author: Miss Kass
Fandom: Batman
Rating: NC-17
Characters: Joker/Two-Face
Word Count: 2058
Summary: The Joker knows a little more about some things than people think he does. Two-Face wishes he didn’t have to find that out firsthand.
Spoilers: If you haven't seen the film, there's reference to who Two-Face used to be that you may or may not want to read. xD
Disclaimer: I have nothing to do with the film or comics or characters or… anything else. I’m just a humble purveyor of smutty things.

Notes: I don’t know anything about Arkham. xD So… sorry if this rapes comic canon. Also, written for the Batman Kink Meme prompt:

Pairing: Joker/Two-Face [Nolanverse]
Kink: ArkhamNurse!Joker straps him down and ensues the practice of 'medicine', the Joker way. Would be a plus if it involved scalpels and pantyhose.

It does indeed involve scalpels and pantyhose and violence and sexual situations, just as a warning.



---

It wasn’t that difficult to get in, which didn’t particularly surprise him. Arkham Asylum was notorious for breakouts, and all the money that went towards getting their ‘criminally insane’ back into lockdown must have been taking away from that which they would otherwise spend on security. Ah well, no matter. It meant his job was far easier.

Surprisingly enough, it wasn’t that difficult to get hold of a nurse’s uniform, either. The pretty little thing he ran into in the hallway was all too willing to give up her clothing, especially when the flash of a shiny blade was brought into the equation. He had even managed to secure her pair of pantyhose, and coupled with the short skirt and remarkably flattering shirt (which he thought were ridiculous things to be wearing amongst society’s most maniacal, but then again it was her life on the line), he looked the very double of her. Of course, the hair and the greasepaint makeup only served to dampen his efforts, but no matter; where he was going, he didn’t need to hide everything.

And so he meandered through the hospital, not sure entirely where his friend would be trapped, but after snatching the nurse’s keys, it didn’t matter where said friend was. He would always be found.

Luckily, he must have been deemed to be not a particularly savage danger to society, because he was only a few levels down, nowhere near the breed of criminal that was so sorely lacking in today’s society. Must have been because all of those criminals were under lock and key far down in the bowels of Arkham, he thought to himself as he gleefully rapped on the window of the little room.

“Well hello, stranger,” he called brightly, grinning his incessant grin through the tiny glass window.

“Joker.” The man inside almost refused to acknowledge his name, spitting it out as though the word was poison. He turned away from the door then, and the Joker took his chance to open it quickly and slip inside, fingering the syringe in his pocket as he relocked the door and turned around to find that the other man had backed up against the wall.

“Ah, Harvey, you don’t seem like you’re happy to see me. You don’t need me to make you smile, do you?” The Joker spoke his name breathily, imitating a woman’s higher-pitched voice as he moved across the room, swaying his hips. Harvey turned away, disgusted with the sight before him. Who had the Joker violated to get those clothes? What poor nurse had he stripped, down to her panties (or maybe even less, Harvey realised, he had no way to prove that the clown hadn’t stolen her undergarments as well), just to torture him?

“Maybe you’d respond if I called you Two-Face.” This time the Joker sang his name, close enough now to reach out and touch Harvey’s face and pull it towards himself. “Would that make Gotham’s White Knight smile?”

Harvey smacked the Joker’s hand away, grabbing his wrist in the process. “Don’t you dare taunt me, clown.” The Joker merely laughed, extracting his hand from Two-Face’s grasp and slipping it gently into his pocket.

“Well, we can’t have that kind of behaviour in here. Sleep tight, sweetheart.” He pulled the syringe out and plunged it into Two-Face’s neck, pumping him full of a fast-acting tranquilliser. Whistling, the Joker tore strips off the bottom of Two-Face’s Arkham-issue shirt and bound his wrists together, tying them to the metal bar at the top of the bed. He also tied Two-Face’s ankles, separately, to the bar at the bottom of the bed. The Joker then slid down against the wall, landing rather ungracefully on the floor, and pulled out the scalpel he’d threatened the nurse with. He grinned to himself, as he was the only conscious person in the room, and watched the blade glimmer in the dull light of the only globe in the room until Two-Face woke up.

It took half an hour before the other man awoke, and by that time the Joker had carved maniacally grinning faces into the wall of the room, and taken a swipe at Two-Face’s calf, just because he felt like it. Two-Face attempted to move his arms and legs, and finding that they were bound, snarled at the Joker.

“Ah, the White Knight awakens.” Another snarl. “No, no, no. As your attending nurse, I’ve deemed you to be too violent, and that it’s safer for me if you can’t fight back.” The Joker stood, watching Two-Face struggle, and visually checking that his knots were still secure.

“Get out, Joker,” Two-Face growled, in a voice reminiscent of Batman’s. The Joker only laughed once more, dusting his skirt off and straightening the pantyhose so that the seam ran carefully up the back of his legs.

“Not yet, Two-Face. Because, you see, as your nurse, I not only have to make sure that I’m safe, but I have to make sure that you’re safe, you see? That means I have to heal you.” The Joker sauntered towards Two-Face, straddling his legs and twirling the scalpel between his fingers. Two-Face squirmed, uncomfortable about being under the man who made him the way that he was now, but the squirming only made it more obvious that though the Joker was wearing pantyhose (which reminded the part of Two-Face that was still Harvey Dent oh-so-much of Rachel), he was still undeniably male.

“Have you ever heard of the healing power of the orgasm?” Two-Face’s single working eye widened almost comically, but neither of them were laughing. The Joker drew the scalpel gently over Two-Face’s exposed stomach, pushing hard enough to leave a line of blood behind the shiny blade. Two-Face jerked away from the blade, pressing his back into the bed, but that only spurred the Joker to press the scalpel harder, and it wasn’t until Two-Face relaxed that the blade relaxed too.

The Joker grinned. “I suppose you haven’t, then. Well, I think I should tell you all about it,” he said in a sing-song voice, removing the blade entirely from Two-Face’s skin, but pressing his fingers into the shallow wound he had left. With his other hand, the Joker began to slice through the pantyhose he was wearing, talking aloud (half to himself, and half to Two-Face) about all the good that could come from total pleasure.

In Two-Face’s mind, all he could think of was the need for his coin, but the Joker was still talking, his manic voice infiltrating Two-Face’s mind, and the wound on his stomach still being aggravated. “… raises your heart rate, and makes all that pain just disappear.” As the Joker finished his little speech, he also finished cutting the pantyhose off his legs, which were now covered in long cuts from the blade. He removed his fingers from Two-Face’s stomach and tore the nylon fabric off himself, drawing it over Two-Face’s skin before tossing it away. That was one thing that Two-Face was glad for, because now the memories of Rachel’s flattering dresses and her soft, beautiful skin were gone, replaced with the here and now of the Joker’s leg hair catching on the rough fibres of his pants, the greasepaint makeup flaking gently off and covering his chest.

“Are you done yet, clown?” Two-Face growled, looking up at the fabric binding his wrists pointedly. The Joker shook his head, bouncing lightly on Two-Face’s knees.

“Not yet, Two-Face,” The Joker repeated, shaking the scalpel in front of the other man’s eyes, “I still have to administer my treatment so I can make you all better.” The Joker used the scalpel to shred Two-Face’s pants, shredding the man’s thighs in the process. Their legs now both oozed blood, coating the thin sheet below them with a red stain, and infusing the air around them a strong metal tang. Two-Face tried to buck the Joker off, but he stayed firm, and grew particularly firm in the one place Harvey (and even Two-Face) had never wanted to go. He made a noise of disgust in his throat, which the Joker picked up on, grinning.

“Don’t be afraid of my instruments, Two-Face. They can’t hurt you. In fact, they’ll make you all better, and then you can come out of this place again. I hear the Batman is looking for a new toy to chase around, like the stupid beast he is.”

Slowly, slowly, the Joker hiked up his skirt, giggling like a schoolgirl as he exposed the lacy panties he had stolen from the nurse. Two-Face spared a single thought for the poor naked woman before realising that the sight was making him just as hard as the Joker clearly was. He was disgusted with himself, squeezing his eye shut and thinking about everything he could imagine that would turn him off, but nothing worked. And he didn’t know why.

The Joker, however, was immensely pleased with what he saw, and grabbed Two-Face’s cock in one hand, jerking him off roughly as he pressed the palm of his hand into his own cock, the scalpel pressing against his stomach as he rubbed against the fabric. Two-Face tried to convince himself to turn away, but his cock had it’s own priorities, and his hips were thrusting mindlessly into the Joker’s hand.

Suddenly, the hand was gone, and there was the sting of a blade being drawn over his chest, joining with the now-clotted cut on his belly from before, which was opened again with a quick swipe of the Joker’s wrist. Two-Face grimaced as the Joker then used the scalpel to cut through his panties, flinging them in the same direction as the totally ruined pantyhose. He jerked himself a couple of times before turning his attention back to Two-Face, speaking for the first time in what Two-Face felt was forever.

“It’s just so nice when my patients comply with my treatment,” the Joker said happily, running his thumb over the head of his cock and spreading precome into the blood on Two-Face’s stomach. “But now we get to the fun part. Now is where we see how long it takes for my treatment to work.”

The Joker grasped his own cock and shuffled slightly closer to Two-Face, grabbing both of them in one hand and jerking slowly. “If I do this correctly,” he mused nonchalantly, as though none of what was happening was happening at all, “you should begin to feel your heart rate speeding, and that all those little scratches I’ve given you will no longer be important.”

Though he didn’t want to believe it, Two-Face found the Joker to be speaking the truth. He could hear blood rushing in his ears as the Joker stroked his cock, and the numerous wounds covering his body weren’t hurting as badly. A few more thrusts and the Joker came; the bastard had probably been half-hard as soon as he’d arrived at Arkham. Two-Face took longer, though, and while his cock was certainly eager for what the Joker was giving out, his brain certainly wasn’t, and he screamed internally while he groaned externally as he came minutes later. He would later convince himself that he couldn’t possibly have contained that groan.

“You see,” the Joker cocked his head, scars stretching as he smiled indulgently, “I do know what I’m talking about. But, now it’s time for me to go. Other places to be, other patients to see, you know how it is, right?” He launched himself off Two-Face, who was beginning again to feel the effects of the Joker’s scalpel. “I hope you know that I believe in you, Harvey Dent,” he said as he smoothed out his skirt and shirt once more. “I know you can get better.”

And with that he skipped over to the door, unlocking it and leaving, but not before flicking a card into the air. It landed face-up on the panties, revealing a joker card as usual, with the left half of it blacked out. Two-Face didn’t even bother struggling against his tethers, not particularly caring who would find him the way he was and when. All he wanted to do was forget that the last hour or so had ever happened; that for once the Joker had been in total control of something instead of letting everything turn to chaos.
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March 2011

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