There's a method to my madness...

Fic: Unnoticed (3/5)

Mon, 09 Nov 2009 22:41:50 GMT

Title: Unnoticed
Author: DayDreamer64/MadWanderer
Fandom: Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen
Pairing(s): Leo/Simmons, hints of Sam/Mikaela, Sam/Bee, and Sam/Bee/Mikaela
Part: 3/5
Genre(s): Slash, Romance, Gen, humor, fluff
Rating: PG for language
Word Count: 2,865
Summary: Leo thought he'd been kidding about the partners thing. Apparently he wasn't.
Disclaimer: Full disclaimer here.
Note: So, so, so, sorry about the lateness of this chapter. The story is quite finished and written out, I just have not found time to type it up. :( Yes the evilness that is school has taken hold of me and will not let go. But anyways here is the long awaited next part and the longest part so far! Some credit though for lyrics that appear here: “Gay Bar” by Electric Six, “Where are you Now?” by Michelle Branch, and “Yellow” by Coldplay.
Also I'm a bit wary about the characterization of Simmons and Sam in this one. Just towards the end at least when they're all... well you'll see what I mean. Or maybe not. I don't know. Now without further ado andiamo to the fic~

Part Three: Jumped Across for You

Leo knew Simmons would firmly stand by his excuse that it was an accident but he knew better. One. Sector Seven Agents didn't make mistakes- it wasn't an option they could afford (the guy had spent an entire five hours drilling that into his head after he mixed up two files). Two. How the hell do you manage to spill a single drink on two beds (it was just unheard of!)? And Three. Why had he been drinking in the first place when Leo told him not to whenever he was around (he knew he felt tempted by drinking just as much as the next guy!)? Thus this “accident” would remain as something done on purpose. Why? Why did he have to share the remaining bed with Simmons? Why? He chose not to know.

Tugging on the sheets he tried to ignore the snoring man's arm currently draped over his waist. He tried to ignore the back-flips his stomach did each time the other moved closer and vowed never to buy hot dogs ever again (certainly they were the reason his stomach couldn't relax). He tried to ignore the breath playing over his neck that made him shiver and attempt to move away. All rather unsuccessfully. If he moved over any farther he was sure he'd topple over. Though at this point, falling out of the bed would be welcomed so long as the other would wake up and stop now.

Oh shit! Leo's eyes widened as the mouth that was already close enough, landed on skin. His skin. He felt his jaw slacken with shock. What... wha-...Okay calm down, chill man he's just... just...

The arm around his waist tightened and pulled. Their bodies were pulled flushed against one another and warmth spread and pushed away out the bedroom chill. Clouded by confusion and an odd sense of safety in those arms Leo drifted off to sleep. He didn't realize that the man's breathing wasn't the gentle rise and fall normal people had upon slumber. No, Simmons' breath was erratic and his eyes were open and watching.

‡

Leo didn't want to wake up. In fact he had every intention of staying longer than usual in bed. Simmons would wake him when he was needed right? Well he was wrong. Simmons didn't wake him up. Laughter and giggles did.

Had he left the television on last night? Probably. He scooted further into the covers and the warmth they gave him. Still the amusement persisted. Frowning he opened his eyes and saw a pair of blue green eyes staring back at him.

“So this is where you sleep, huh?” Sam smirked.

Leo shot up with a squeak. He quickly realized that the laughter wasn't coming from the TV but from outside and inside the room. Maggie and Mikaela stood off to the side, giggling and waving at him. In the doorway he could see the twins, Wheelie and Bumblebee peering in at the sight which was... holy shit!

The younger agent jumped as his eyes landed on a bare-chested Simmons curled up beside him. One arm still held his waist while the other lay behind him. So that's where the warmth came from...

Flushing he raised his hands defensively, “it's not what it looks like.”

“Really?” Maggie grinned. “So boys regularly sleep together in nothing but boxers?

“No! We just... I-” Leo ran a hand through his hair. “Simmons had some drinks and-”

You! I want to take you to a gay bar! I want to take you to a gay bar, gay bar, gay bar!

Everyone began to laugh again at Bee's excellent timing and Leo felt himself blush harder.

“Couldn't take him 'cause he can't drink.” Simmons yawned from beside him.

Jumping he scrambled away and promptly fell out of the bed with a yelp. The older agent raised a brow at him in mid-stretch. He stared and scooted away further. Simmons just shot him a grin. Leo watched, horrified as Simmons crawled over to him, slowly. He couldn't help but shiver when fingers reached out to grip his chin and tilt it up.

“Bet he wouldn't even be able to keep his liquor...” the other man commented softly.

“I bet I can!” Leo snapped back instantly forgetting his current predicament.

“Yeah, right.” Simmons scoffed.

The younger agent glared as the older agent leered down at him. For a few moments their fierce gazes held until a cough reminded them they weren't alone. Blinking Leo turned back at the people gathered at the doorway.

“Well when you boys are done here, maybe we can get to work?” Maggie suggested lightly. “Of course you two can always some alone time...”

Leo's indignant sputters were lost amid the laughter and snickers that ensued. Really. It wasn't what it looks like. Turning back to Simmons to shoot him another glare, he was caught off guard by the speculative look he shot him. Swallowing, he averted his eyes. Okay... maybe it was what it looked like. But in any case it was all on Simmons' part- not his. Really.

‡

The three Sector Seven Agents got to work immediately after a quick breakfast and plenty of innuendo but once work was issued all tomfoolery was pushed aside. Simmons was trying to deal with the twins while Maggie sat in the briefing room with Mikaela and Wheelie. The youngest agent found himself working with Sam and Bee in a corner by the computers.

“So...” Sam began. “You and Simmons seem to be getting along well...”

Leo scowled as he checked over them Camaro's files on his computer, “you could say that.”

“Oh C'mon, you two seem...well you seem like friends.” Sam shrugged. “not that I really like it.” he scrunched his nose in mild disgust. “The guy is still an ass.”

“He's...okay but you're right he's still an ass.” Leo kept his eyes and mind carefully trained on the screen in front of him, refusing to look over it where he would see Simmons standing with his back to him. No, no, no he was not thinking about his ass...Jesus that picture was never to be touched again. “I mean do you remember how he decided he had to be a hero? The guy was going to get himself killed!”

“Yeah I remember,” Sam nodded. “In fact the twins told me all about...” he coughed suddenly. “...a little um tender moment you two shared just before the pyramid incident.” Leo stilled, waiting for the rest. “In fact they said you were extremely stressed about it.”

Leo felt his cheeks burn and he couldn't help it, he looked over at his present roommate (he was scowling up at the annoying twins) then back to his ex-roommate (he was staring at him with an odd look in his eyes) that sat upon his guardian's hand. He turned fully to them and he opened his mouth yet found he had nothing to say. What could he say? He couldn't really deny the words could he? Because they were right weren't they? Choosing not to go further into this train of thought he averted his eyes to the ground.

“That idiot was going to die...Was I not supposed to be stressed?”

Sam merely smiled and looked up at Bee. Leo ignored this and returned to work, allowing Bee to fill the room with soft music.

It makes me think I'll never have the chance to figure out...what it's all about...

‡

It was the twins fault. Completely and totally their fault. Not his fault. Not Sam's. He couldn't even blame Simmons for this one. Oh no, the blame was all for the twins. After all who were they to hook up to one of the computers and install a karaoke game (and another thing where did they get the mikes?)? Leo had to fight back a scream as the twins sang a duet in off key tones. Maggie and Mikaela sat off the side laughing at them while Wheelie struggled to contain his hearing circuits from exploding. Sam sat with Bee (they were obviously used to the twins attempts to sing) debating over which song to choose for Sam's turn. As for Simmons he stood by the mini-fridge drinking. He was shaking his head but the grin on his face displayed his obvious amusement-

Wait what? Simmons was enjoying himself?! Leo did a double take and found that no the agent wasn't watching the twins anymore. Instead his eyes were occupied elsewhere. Those brown eyes were trained on him. He jumped and felt his cheeks burn at the lazy grin Simmons hot him (shit, was he drunk?) and the mock toast he raised to him.

It was then that Leo decided that yes. Yes he was right. Simmons was drunk. Otherwise he would have never have grinned at him because Simmons? Show affection to him? Not even in his wildest dreams...not that he dreamt about it. Oh God no... Well okay maybe, a little- wait, shit, no he didn't!

Blushing he turned away to watch as the twins finished and Sam took his place up by the mike on their makeshift stage. Sam grinned at Mikaela and took a moment to dedicate the song to her and Bee. His girlfriend smiled graciously as Bee kicked the floor in an almost human-like sheepish way. Leo had to smile.

In a way it was endearing to see how well the three got along. Same loved Mikaela but he also loved Bee, and the other two were fine with that. Bee took care of Sam. and Mikaela did too. He couldn't say he was jealous of them though (Wheelie had expressed his envy repeatedly). Leo did feel happy for them... he just didn't understand how they did it. So if he had a wistful look on his face as he watched them there was nothing anyone could say about it (because no was looking at him).

“Cute huh?

“Who?”

“Those three.”

“Oh. Yeah.”

Leo's eyes widened and turned to see Simmons standing beside him. Staring at him for a few moments he rolled his eyes and threw his hands up in the air.

“You're never going to stop that are you?”

“Of course not.”

“Then can I ask you to warn me?”

“You may.”

Silence.

Then Leo rolled his eyes as he realized his mistake. He turned fully to the smug man beside him, “will you warn me next time?”

Simmons clapped a hand on the younger man's back with a smile, “not likely my young friend.”

Look at the stars. Look how they shine for you. And everything you do. Yeah they were all yellow.

Leo had to turn back to look at Sam. He couldn't help it- he smiled. So this was the song he'd chosen. Huh... It certainly did fit. Mikaela was smiling and Bee has tuned his radio in sync to Sam's singing (which Leo was surprised to hear wasn't so bad). Then, as if sensing he was being watched (oh geez, please no, he silently begged. Not him) he turned to see Simmons eying him (so much for prayers he scowled inwardly).

“What?” He asked defensively.

“C'mon,” Simmons' steely grip on his arm left no room for argument. “Let's get a drink.”

“Wait... you offering me a drink?” Leo stopped and stared. “This is something new.”

“Well I've decided I don't want to wait till you get the hint on your own so I'll get you drunk to make it easier to take advantage of you.” Leo gaped in horror while Simmons merely rolled his eyes and yanked on his arm. “Oh shut up, and come on.”

“But, you- I-”

“I was just kidding.”

“Oh. Ah. Okay.”

That was not disappointment in his voice, it was totally relief. As Leo tried to convince himself of this he completely missed the look of agitation that crossed his companion's face.

Your skin, oh yeah, your skin and bones turn into something beautiful. You know for you I'd bleed myself dry. For you I'd bleed myself dry.

‡

Leo knew he was just the right side of tipsy but not exactly drunk enough to forget what would happen tonight. Still he had had enough to drink so that he had immediately agreed to playing Twister, with everyone. In fact he'd been with the twins, chanting for the others to play. Everyone else had conceded except Maggie and Wheelie whom decided to sit it out. Maggie for wearing a skirt and Wheelie for fear of being crushed. The twins and Bee took up different forms (after Alice's appearance the rest of the autobots had been inspired to try the same as well, creating their own human disguises through holoforms which were practical and close to perfection after months of practice) and readied themselves for the hilarity that was sure to ensue.

Sam ended up going first with left foot on red and right hand on yellow. Then Mikaela with right hand on green, left foot on blue and so on. Soon enough after a couple more turns Leo found himself laughing at their current positions. The twins were busy wolf whistling at the way Mikaela was hovering over Sam while Bee hovered beneath him. Leo found himself pressed against Simmons while the twins curled about next to them.

“Someone had better fall soon.” Simmons gritted his teeth. “I can't feel my damn arm.”

“Oh relax old timer.” Mudflap replied.

“Yeah, it's your turn anyway... Okay you've got right hand blue, left foot green.” Maggie called out with a laugh.

“Where is that?” Simmons peered beneath the entangle of limbs.

“You've got one over here.” Maggie pointed to Leo's right. “Um...” she grew quiet.

The twins and Bee gave cat calls as the agent removed his arm and leg and crossed over to hover over Leo. Leo in the meantime held his breath as the arm snaked over him and landed on a circle next to where his own hand had landed minutes before. He felt the leg brush his hips as it landed not far from his own. He looked up to see the agent flexing his body, trying to adjust to his new position. But even as he did so, Leo felt him tense even further as their bodies touched. He shivered slightly. Something that the other man obviously caught for he snapped his eye to his face and stared intently.

Parting his lips in surprise at his own reaction he looked back at a lose for words. He dimly heard the others laughing as Bee moved to a new position underneath Sam. The picture was obviously amusing to everyone because next thing Leo knew Mikaela was toppling down onto Sam, who in turn fell into Bee. The fall caused a chain reaction of further falls that had Simmons on top of Leo. He gasped at the sudden pressure, unsure if it was of surprise or something else

Leo couldn't explain it (not even later when he found himself throwing up alone in the bathroom). He felt as if his senses had been sharpened ten times to the point that he could feel ever curve of the man sprawled over him. He could feel every intake of quick breath and if he listened hard enough he even caught the steady heartbeat jumping in sync to his. He looked up and jumped at the feeling of bare skin on his neck. It was only the lightest of touches but Leo felt the soft curve of a cheek perfectly against his throat and wet hot breath tinged with what he was sure was alcohol.

And then the feel was gone as Simmons moved away. It was at that moment that he realized their predicament. The older agent was straddling his hips and both his hands were set firmly on the ground beside his head. He blinked at the sudden movement and looked over to see the others in several compromising positions. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back, in exhaustion. He was so going to regret this fiasco in the morning.

“...You really have no idea what you're doing to me do you?”

Leo cocked his head to the side and looked up at Simmons curiously, “Huh?”

The agent merely looked at him and shook his head, “forget it kid.”

Simmons moved to get up and away but Leo simply followed by sitting up himself. He didn't quite know what he was doing. He just knew that he wanted to know what those words had been. He had heard some but not all...

“But... you said I 'have no idea...' but of what?” Leo scratched his head. “Maybe if you gave me a clue I'd have an idea.”

The other just looked at him, studying. Then he grinned, “kid, you need another drink.”

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Poem: Recuerdos de otro tiempo

Sat, 10 Oct 2009 23:14:12 GMT

Note: Wow, it's been a while since I posted here (has it really been over two months?!) O_O; I didn't mean to neglect any fics as long as I have but school has been totally killing me. Certain stories should be updated but haven't been and yet other things are being written. Such as this little poem. Mostly the inspiration came from the song I was playing and from Kirk/Spock in TOS. ~~Yeah, who HASN'T been absorbed by that fandom?~~ I began writing the poem in English and it was already finished as a poem in English but then as I read it over I didn't like it. And for some strange reason, the words began to change in my head so I translated most of the basic structure and added in more lines.
However this is my first try at rhyming in Spanish and I'm not entirely happy with how certain lines came out. Still, it's a nice poem and I wanted to share ~~and find an excuse to actually get on LJ when I shouldn't be~~. Most of you won't understand and if you try translating it, the feeling will just be gone. I couldn't feel it in English yet in Spanish I could and I happen to like that. :)
Disclaimer: This poem belongs entirely to me, so no reproductions of any kind are permitted without my explicit consent.

Recuerdos de otro tiempo

Recuerdame mientras que la mañana amanece,
Y abraza la nostalgia que te induce.
Recuerdame mientras te despiertas,
Y de los momentos que conocías.
Recuerdame mientras que buscas como sonreír.
Aunque ya no me puedes oír...

Te recuerdas como nos besábamos entre risas?
(Tus manos tan lisas...)
Te recuerdas como nos quedaríamos en la cama por horas?
(Por favor, no lloras...)

Recuerdate y sonríe porque yo lo sentiré
(En tus ojos luminosos me perderé)

Vamos a un lugar lejos de aquí donde estaremos juntos los dos,
(De este infierno aprenderemos)
Vamos a un lugar donde todo esta perfecto.
(Cuando todo esta resuelto)
Vamos a un lugar en otra vida,
(Esto no es nuestra despedida)
Vamos a un lugar para recordar.
(Lo podemos soportar)

Recuerda todo estas cosas y todo estará bien.
(Esperemos hasta que las cosas cambien)

Recuerdame,
Espérame.
Recuerdate de nosotros
No de los otros
Recuerda, por favor,
(Mi amor)

Drabble: Never say Never

Mon, 03 Aug 2009 20:28:57 GMT

Title: Never say Never
Author: DayDreamer64/MadWanderer
Fandom: Boys Next Door
Pairing: Adrian/Lawrence
Genre: Romance
Rating: G
Word Count: 230
Summary: Falling in love is okay so long as he's with Lawr
Disclaimer: Full disclaimer here.
Note: I don't know where this came from honestly. I was just listening to the song and suddenly I found myself rereading BND and writing this.

There are moments when he knows he's falling. Falling deeper into something he doesn't talk about with Lawrence. This is something neither of them name. Why name this when it's easier to just feel it? So Adrian allows the hugs and bursts of affection from the young man. He allows it all. Just so long as he gets to be with him.

He knows it's a feeling he's learning to accept. Because Lawrence is here and his presence makes it all the better. His presence is comforting. He speaks to him about he feels when he comes to meet him after school. He ponders to him where it is he'll descend into.

Lawrence merely smiles and holds his hand.

Don't let me go.

It's all he thinks when he knows he can see that smile so bright and pure. The being that has forgiven him and given him what others could not. He wants him. He needs him. He loves him. And it is all he can think about as he stands before him.

He sees the balloons and he smiles because he remembers. He knows how important it is. He brings so many with him as a promise. A promise to stay and be with him. He knows he won't leave. Not this time. This time he'll stay.

Adrian smiles at him and embraces him fiercely.

Let's fall Lawrence....

Like what you read? Friend madwanderer~♥

Fic: Unnoticed (2/5)

Fri, 31 Jul 2009 18:50:51 GMT

Part Two: I'm with You

“Where are you going to sleep?” Sam asked.

“Somewhere,” Leo replied distractedly. “pass me that last box will you?”

“Yeah, but- damn what the hell have you got in here?- you sure about this?” Sam heaved a box into the truck where Leo stood inside, arranging his belongings.

“Just some magazines and stuff.” Leo muttered as he attempted to yank the box on top of another. “And yes, I'm sure Sam.”

“Yeah man but... what about college?”

“No need.” Leo successfully dumped the box where he wanted it and stood back to admire his work. “Simmons said I'll have this job for the rest of my life if I wanted it.”

“Ah... I forgot.” Sam smirked. “The two of you are both into aliens and-”

“-and getting paid for it.” He grinned happily. “Look at this way... You'll have the chance of having a normal roommate now.”

“What, you mean a jock who's got more brawn than brains and tries to hit on my girlfriend? Because that's what you left me with.”

“Oh cheer up,” Leo jumped out from the truck and pulled down the latch. “You've at least got a girl and a car. Me? I've got nothing! I had to rent this pile of crap because Simmons refused to let me take one of the cars. And Maggie isn't interested- I tried.”

“Yeah because I could use Bee for all the stuff you're taking. I knew you had a lot of stuff but isn't this too much?”

“Most of it is stuff that my staff decided to give back to me after borrowing. Obviously they want to lighten the load for their move.” Leo rolled his eyes.

“So they're coming with you then right?”

“Yeah just next semester. They were able to work out an agreement with Simmons since their mothers want them to have more time at college before they decide on a lifelong career.”

Leo turned to appraise the college campus one last time. This would no longer be a home to him. It had never really been that way for him anyway but now it never would be. His home laid elsewhere. He turned to his ex-roommate and extended his hand. The other smiled and shook it.

“It's been an honor Witwicky,” he grinned. “I'm sure we'll keep in touch.”

Sam snorted, “Of course we will, you'll probably want to interview Bee just like the rest of them right?”

“Definitely.” Leo nodded.

‡

Over the next few days Leo installed himself in the sole available room currently at headquarters. However despite initial thought that it'd be free he found he'd be sharing again with none other than-

“Oh hell no!” Leo roared. “My posters are going up whether you like it or not! I've spent more time in this room than you have so I have dibs on the walls!”

“Hey, hey, hey! I'll be your highest commanding officer presiding in this headquarters and that includes this room. So what I say goes!” Simmons snapped. “Not only do these posters clash with the decor but they take up space-”

“-They're plastered on walls, what space-?”

“-they are vulgar-!”

“-they are not-!”

“-and unnecessary.”

“-'unnecessary' my-”

It was how Maggie found them two hours later, yelling themselves hoarse over posters. She watched in amusement as the fight transformed into something more altogether. Leo's posters were long forgotten and up next was personal space and attire rules enforced mostly by Leo.

“That thong you flashed me-”

“-you liked the view, don't deny it-”

“-I never- oh eww no-”

“-I'm showing you more of what you didn't see that time-”

Maggie expertly took her leave then and vaguely wondered if the two would ever realize how alike they were. If the ensuing shouts (and not shrieks Leo would later stubbornly say) were anything to go by she guessed they would take a while. Closing the door behind her she grinned at the prospect of their eventual discovery. Things would definitely get interesting then.

‡

“Status report?” Simmons prompted.

“Just starting up the installation process for-”

“-installation? For what?”

“For Ubuntu of course!” Leo replied brightly. “Have you seen their interface? It's sexy-”

“You should have been researching that car not-”

“Is this how they always act?” Mikaela asked.

“Pretty much.” Maggie nodded.

“Did Simmons really get pissed about the posters?” Sam sipped the coffee the Australian girl had presented him.

“He did.” Maggie grinned in spite of herself. “Of course until Leo started talking about personal space then he started to well... divest himself of clothing.”

“Look Linux is awesome and all but Ubuntu has my heart,” Leo frowned.

“It's a system!” the agent retorted angrily.

The three watched as the two men argued back and forth, eyes rolling and pouts (mostly on Leo's part) thrown here and there for good measure. Sam and Mikaela chatted with Maggie for a while longer before they left, intending to grab bite to eat before running the interview with Wheelie.

The two remaining agents lapsed into silence, anger and annoyance deflated as they ignored each other. Simmons retreated to the meeting room while Leo sat before his newly personalized computer. Quickly giving it a quick scan for any other programs he might need, he called it a job well done and sat back to relax a bit... until he got bored of course. The room was bereft of any person he might show off his computer to so, grumbling under his breath, he set off in pursuit of the older man.

Leo found him sitting at the head of the table, shifting over photographs and reports. He stood in the doorway, watching the agent in his element. The man was so absorbed in his work- he never took his eyes off the table where his precious litter of files were spread out over the wooden desk. The younger man watched the way the arms moved (the agent had slung his suit jacket over the chair next to him and had rolled up his sleeves, the top buttons of his shirt were casually unbuttoned, exposing skin) with every flick of a pen or a shift of paper. He marveled at the scrutiny of the eyes laid bare before the stilled images. It was... strangely mechanic yet graceful. The never-ending shifting of eyes from left to right as the hand holding the pen skittered across notepads in fluid rapid motions. The curve of the fingers as they held the pen at a slanted edge-

“You going to stand there all day or do you have something to tell me?” Simmons asked.

Leo jumped and flushed. He... he didn't even remember why he'd come here in the first place. So he did the only logical thing that came to mind: he fled.

Muttering a low, “I'm going to get something to eat,” he escaped the room. Had he been paying the same careful attention as before he'd have noticed the tight grip the agent exerted on his pen and the nervous hand that ran through his hair instead of pushing it out of his line of vision. But he didn't. When he shut the door behind him, Simmons let his pen fall to the table and sat back in his seat. Sighing heavily he closed his eyes and bit his lip in frustration.

‡

The younger agent ended up walking to the park hoping to find a hot dog vendor. Sure enough he did. With his bun and sausage he headed over to a bench overlooking the immense fountain. Upon wolfing it down with a can of soda he felt himself relax ever so slightly. Slouching he held his head up with his elbows propped up on his knees. People ran by him with dogs or children, couples held hands as they passed by- the park was busy as usual. People were lost in their own little normal worlds swallowing the lies of the media whilst he knew... He knew and he was just watching them, knowing he could never be part of their world. Not anymore. Sighing he rubbed his eyes.

“Enjoy the hot dog?”

“Yeah, it was good.” Leo replied without thinking.

He leaned back into he bench, frowned and did a double take. Yelping at the person he found there, he scooted over to the other side of the bench.

“Why do you do that?!” He hissed.

“It's fun,” Simmons shrugged smirking.

The older agent sat with his legs crossed, arms stretched out to hold the bench. Rolling his eyes at the man's way of sitting he returned closer to him and leaned back into that arm. He sighed.

This...was nice. Leo briefly wondered when was the last time he's just enjoyed the other's presence in complete silence. It must have been that time after...-

-a hug friendlier than man's should be. A comforting warmth indicating sure presence. He wasn't gone and that was all that mattered-

He eyed the man out of the corner of his eyes and watched the way those eyes stayed straight ahead. He waited and watched as those eyes flickered back and forth in near agitation. Finally they turned to meet his. He held the gaze and opened his mouth.

“Don't you dare try to die again.”

Simmons stared at him in mild surprise, brows going up before settling into a mocking tilt. He nodded, never breaking eye contact.

“Like I'd leave you alone with Sector Seven,” the older man replied.

Leo didn't really hear the last three words and he could tell they weren't meant to be there. He smiled shyly and averted his eyes, completely missing Simmons' warm smile.

“C'mon kid, let's head home. We should get some extra hours of sleep, since Maggie will want us to help her tomorrow.” Simmons stood.

Leo nodded and fell into step with his roommate as they headed back to headquarters together. The casual brush of hands as they moved made Leo shiver. He was here... Simmons was alive and here with him and not-... he had to hold onto that. Keeping his eyes firmly on the ground before him, Leo felt and odd tug in his stomach. He decided he'd blame it on the hot dog.

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Like what you read? Friend madwanderer~♥

Fic: Unnoticed (1/5)

Fri, 24 Jul 2009 19:55:10 GMT

Part One: Still As Visible as Yesterday

“You're crazy,” Leo said flatly.

It had been- at most- a handful of weeks and days since his last encounter with the ex-agent and sure he... sort of missed him. Sort of. But the words coming out of his mouth were something he preferred not to linger on. Especially given what they implied.

“I have better headquarters than you do.” Simmons flicked over one of his magazines in distaste.

Leo rubbed the bridge of his nose. Already signs of a headache were intruding into the peace he'd managed to slip into for a couple of hours. He opened his eyes to watch the man stalk his room. He snorted at his stiff posture and the clenching and unclenching of hands. He could tell the man wanted to investigate further (probably some sort of old habit he had from his old days as an agent).

Flopping down on Sam's bed (he'd gone home for a couple of days. Luxuries of having an extraterrestrial robot for a car, Leo scowled) he gestured for Simmons to take a seat across from him

“I'm not doing this to my staff. For two years we've pinned your site as our enemy. A couple of governmental orders and offers won't change their mentality so easily.”

“Then fire them.” Simmons replied easily.

Rolling his eyes Leo sighed, “They view me as their leader and if I leave them they'll-”

“-get over it.” the ex-agent cut in firmly, “besides you act as if they'll refuse. It's not like as if they won't appreciate the facilities I'll be able to offer them.”

Leo didn't like the look in the old man's eyes. They held a hungry sort of glint to them and that grin he wore was practically feral. Narrowing his eyes he asked: “What sort of facilities are we talking about?”

Simmons grin simply grew wider.

‡

“State of the art computers complete with dual boot Linux operating systems and six gigabytes of memory, high speed Internet, Microsoft Office Enterprise- don't ask how I got it, I won't tell you- and photoshop.” here he pulled up two images of Leo with signs of before and after (Leo glared at the after image of himself wearing a pink tutu while his friends laughed. He could tell Simmons was fighting back a smile). “The entire structure is soundproof so if a project goes crazy, no one will hear your failure. To your right we have one room for 'crashing the night' complete with five beds, over in the corner we have a kitchen and a fridge complete with food and alcoholic drinks for my use only.” Here he leered down at the college boys. “The lavatory facilities are located right before you complete with a tub and shower room. To your left a briefing room where meetings will be held and reports will be given daily. Any questions?”

Leo who had been listening intently to the entire monologue raised his hand and asked loudly, “yeah, who's she?”

Simmons chuckled and beckoned the blond over. Heels clicked with each step as she came away from one of the computers and into their midst.

“Maggie Madsen,” Simmons informed them. “At your age she discovered the signal of the evil N.B.Es”

“N.B.E?” Leo blinked.

“He means the Decepticons.” Maggie explained with a smile.

“Placed among us per suggestion of the ex-Secretary of Defense.” Simmons smiled. “Quite the cyberpunk if I may say so.”

“You may,” Maggie grinned, “as it's true.”

Leo watched the two in disbelief. Of all the things he'd heard about the ex-agent, politeness was not his strong point. Yet here he was: openly complimenting the girl (sure it wasn't much of a compliment but still it held the right tone and meaning). She turned her eyes to appraise them and he jumped, startled when she spoke to him, a smirk tugging on her lips.

“So... you're the famous Leo Spitz I've been hearing so much of. Talk says you've been on RoboWarrior's tail for two years now. Huh... you really aren't bad looking either...”

Leo fought down his blush savagely and tried to pull forth an ounce of confidence to smile back at her. He found he really couldn't. She was just too beautiful. And oh gosh did Simmons say she discovered a signal made my aliens? That was so hot-

“I also heard you saved Simmons' ass.” She grinned. “Nice job.”

Blinking he turned to the sputtering old man and shrugged, “yeah it was no big deal.”

“So I take it your being here means you've accepted right?”

“Accepted what?” Leo asked, frowning.

“Well, to become new agents of Sector Seven of course.”

“What?”

‡

“The government has finally taken notice that many if not all of the cases closed in Project Black Knife have a certain level of plausibility to them. They have expressed interest in knowing all they can about these files and wish for others to pursue any and all possibilities they might hold for our race and that of the N.B.Es... aka aliens.”

Leo listened to all this with rapt attention but the luxury of the room didn't escape him. A long narrow desk, lined with leather chairs on both sides, stood before a huge screen. Leo sat in the front seat with Maggie sitting across from him. His staff sat on his right side as Simmons paced in front of them at the head of the table.

“The new Sector Seven will be a smaller organization composed of very little agents propelled only towards the investigation of aliens and the possibilities of them living amongst us in disguise.” Simmons clicked the remote and immediately images of old machines (Leo had seen these pictures before) came into view on the screen. “The government wants us to reopen the cases and search all possibilities of future invasions. We will be working directly with Operation N.E.S.T and they with us. Optimus Prime has agreed to tell us of the history he knows and tell us more about the Decepticons particularly Megatron. Any and all information concerning aliens will be at your disposal for the next... oh eight to twelve years? Should you accept of course.”

Leo gaped openly. This... this was absolutely huge. It was everything he could have ever dreamed of and more. His life was practically set as far as he was concerned.

“What exactly does this... Sector Seven job entail though?” Sharsky asked.

“You'll be allowed to finish this semester at Princeton but past that you'll be working with us.” Maggie replied.

“So you mean... we'd have to leave?” Fassbinder's eyes widened.

“Precisely.”

“Aw man...” Leo's staff looked at one another and he frowned at them. “My mom would throw a hissyfit.”

“Ma's already got it in her head I need college before a job,” Fassbinder agreed.

“I understand,” Maggie nodded. “We're giving you all a choice. You can choose to accept this lifestyle or you may choose to return to your daily lives.” She folded her hands and eyed them all evenly. “I won't lie- things could get ugly and any accomplishments we make may and will go ignored by the general public...You have no promise of fame or mass recognition or anything of the sort. This job requires complete secrecy and total acceptance on your part to say nothing of what you do or see. You will be unnoticed by everyone.”

Silence ensued during which Simmons turned away from them. He was looking at the photos up on the screen. Leo watched him and eyed his uniform- it was old but the agent still wore it as if he'd never taken it off. In fact he would go so far as to say those clothes were meant for him. From his point of view he could look at the man's face and on it he could see easily the hint of hope and need raging on those features. With a jolt Leo realized the cranky old man he knew from before was different. This man wasn't RoboWarrior anymore. No, this was Agent Simmons, the same who had risked his life not too long ago in order to shine as best as he could, offering up his knowledge and life. Simmons, who was curious to know and be a more active part in alien conspiracies. He wanted to be more than just a leading website owner of a fanatical website. He needed to be more. But what Simmons needed was people. People who could relate to his thirst for knowledge outside this planet. People who shared his passion and drive in wanting more than uploading poor quality videos on websites before others did. People who would spend endless all-nighters scavenging for more clues and research. People... Leo realized, like himself.

For a few moments the lights dimmed until at last they flickered to life. All the while Leo watched Simmons. He kept a careful eye on those hands he knew gave hints to how he was feeling. Fists. White knuckled and digging into the leather seat he sat upon. They caught each other's eyes, and as the lights illuminated the room once more, they held. Then the agent averted his eyes and the moment was broken.

Simmons turned back to the rest, turning off the screen behind him, “For now, you'll be left to yourselves. You will tell us your answers by the end of your semester.”

‡

Leo didn't need to think it through another day. He was sure he wanted this. He went back the headquarters (conveniently set up in the city, not too far from campus) every weekend and spent his time with Maggie. He learned about the files and about her life as a computer junkie. He even helped reinforce the firewalls on the computers after hearing how fast the Decepticons had hacked into the government's system two years previous.

A month after that meeting and he felt as sure as he could be in his decision of joining. The mystery and promise the files held were mesmerizing. He loved crashing over at the headquarters and finding Simmons there the following morning, making coffee, going over the news headlines. They sometimes sat and talked about the cases, eyes lighting up at the prospects of encountering new life forms never seen before.

Maggie would appear sooner or later, with Starbucks, Dunkin' Donuts or some other obscure coffee shop she'd come across. Together with donuts or other pastries the three would go over new cases only Simmons had see and they'd begin to surf the net coming up with new research and reports to write up (they had to delete and hack into accounts that held proof of the Autobots and destroy them). Sometimes his staff would come along but they would often do nothing but ogle at the wonders that the Agency would provide them (and at other times the two would trail after Maggie like lovesick puppies). Leo understood them (in both instances because dammit Maggie was hot). He would often do nothing in the mornings but bask in the glory of such a job offering coming his way.

Since his whole life had been turned upside down and he'd become aware of some of the conspiracies as truth- things had become difficult for him in his ordinary life. He respected Sam's desire to be normal but he couldn't do it himself. A revelation such as the Autobots and Decepticons could not just easily be swept behind him. His life had changed and he couldn't just sit and go back to college.. not when there was so much more out there.

‡

By the time Thanksgiving rolled around Leo was already introducing his parents to the idea of leaving college in order to pursue a government job. At first they were appalled at the very suggestion but Simmons was more than happy to help in convincing his family. He knew he should have known better than to bring his future boss to the same table as his family.

Leo groaned at the way his parents 'ooohed' and 'ahhed' at the story of how the agent had saved the world from “outside evil forces.” Honestly his parents believed anything. Though the story did hold some truth, he was pretty sure that Simmons didn't have any sort of gun on the pyramid nor were there any sign of Decepticons he had to fight off single-handedly. If there had been any they would have killed him with one swipe.

Glad that Simmons was at least doing as he promised he turned away from the picture of Simmons re-enacting his climb on the pyramid, using his glass as the radio. Sighing and in need of some quiet he headed upstairs to his room and crossed over to the other side to stare out the window. Stars winked at him in the darkened sky and the moon gleamed amidst the clouds. He recalled moments in his youth when he'd come up here to watch the people... That was before he got into Star Trek and Star Wars and all those things that involved space. After that he'd come to his window to look at the sky. He'd spend hours here, just looking up at the stars. Even after all this time, he was still just as fascinated. So lost was he in his stargazing that he never heard the door creak open behind him, nor did he feel the man creep up beside him.

“Nice night,” Simmons observed.

“Yeah.”

A beat.

Then Leo shrieked and jumped away, clamping a hand to his mouth. He pointed frantically from the door to the agent and back again, opening and closing his mouth in shock.

“How? You...-?”

Simmons chuckled and returned his gaze to the window, “I've still got it.”

Leo glared.

“Stop pouting.”

“I am not pouting.” (Leo's not-pout deepened further)

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I'm not.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Leo stopped frowned and once he understood he scowled. Simmons just laughed, “Yeah I've still got it.”

Silence.

Then a tired sigh, “Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“The pouting. It's distracting.”

Leo stared, bewildered. How the hell was pouting (not to say that he was!) in any way distracting? He shrugged and returned to his place beside the older man. They stood there together for a while, watching the sky, unnoticed by the eyes downstairs clamoring loudly as they ate their dinner.

<< Prequel | Next >>

Like what you read? Friend madwanderer~♥

Fic: Sprints and Crawls

Wed, 22 Jul 2009 20:17:11 GMT

Title: Sprints and Crawls
Author: DayDreamer64/MadWanderer
Fandom: Errr... see pairing
Pairing: Mac/PC
Genre(s): Gen, fluff, slight angst
Rating: G
Word Count: 554
Summary: They are apart as they are together. Mac is to PC as Verizon is to Cable.
Disclaimer: Full disclaimer here.
Note: Random I know but what can I say? I ship it. xD; Annnnnnnnd I'll crosspost everything tomorrow and maybe I'll post some more fic tomorrow.... Maybe.

Mac knows PC can be slow sometimes... okay maybe all the time but that won't ever stop him from speaking to him and being his friend so to speak. No, no, no. It just spurns him on to try and help him. He wants to see th3e admiration from him, not grudging respect and pointless scowls. That's the reason he continues to expand and become faster so PC will at least notice.

Sooner or later he does but he's never happy about it. Through all these upgrades and commercials he can't help but think he's going about it the wrong way. Then when he tells him he's going Pro, he knows it's not one of awe but of annoyance.

He wishes he would hurry up already and catch up because he knows he can't slow down- even if he wanted to.

‡

PC knows Mac is too fast. He knows he'll probably keep on going and keep getting better, stronger, younger. Him? Oh PC will stay old and linger behind with the rest. He'll continue on with his problems and bugs (he's beginning to collect several of them actually). He'll continue to try to keep up with Mac. He'll keep on trying.

But he knows he can't keep on for much longer. The viruses are getting to him and his researchers have no idea how to compete. He's slowing down rapidly and he can't stop it- he'll fall behind soon enough.

He sometimes wishes he would at least slow down so he can catch up because he knows he can't go any faster- it's much too late for that.

‡

In some far off future...

Mac hasn't fallen from his pedestal. He probably never will but at least PC is somewhere along the way. PC can keep up now. He smiles at him whenever they pass each other in the hallways and during commercial recordings there is real humor and laughter shared.

It's nice to have him around to talk to and walk around with about the Apple building. Sometimes they talk about their new upgrades and about PC's possible new firewalls. Mac wishes PC was protected like he was but he isn't. So whenever a virus hits he just makes sure he's there.

And PC is happy.

PC is catching up. He's not so slow anymore. A kind scientists approached him to guide and help him. The new work being accomplished is extraordinary and his technicians really care now. He almost feels young again. Almost.

But things still happen. Crashes are inevitable. More memory is needed and at times a new battery. But it's okay because Mac stays with him. Oh sure he's still faster but at least he stays when he can.

And Mac is happy.

‡

Together the two will go grab a bite to eat. They'll laugh and talk and then they'll go home. They live together now- they're no longer apart. It's been proven you can bring the two of them together in on place. You just need to know how.

They figured out how and they've done a pretty good job of staying together despite divided opinion on their new relationship. So what if they were once rivals? So what if they're sort of cheating by helping each other? So what?

They're happy and that's all that matters.

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Drabbles: Multi-Fandom

Wed, 22 Jul 2009 20:04:50 GMT

Author: DayDreamer64/MadWanderer
Fandom(s): (in order of appearance) TDS/TCR, X/1999, Batman/Nolanverse, Digimon, & Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen,
Pairing(s): in order of appearance) Jon/Stephen, Seishirou/Subaru, Hikari/Takeru, & Leo/Simmons
Genre(s): pre-slash, lime, crack, smut, fluff, romance
Rating: Ranging from G to hard R
Disclaimer: Full disclaimer here.
Note: Okay since the beginning of summer break I have been writing. A lot. I just haven't posted up most of it since it's all mostly hardcopy. ^^;; A-anyways I wrote drabbles for friends on my flist thus you get to read five shiny new drabbles from me and a future TRC!Sei/Sub one for sute_hikahika ~~once I actually get around to writing it >.>;;~~ coming soon~!

Missing
Jon could say that he loved Stephen. He could say he would never change anything about him. He could say he would accept everything about him. But there was some things he just couldn't let slide by so easily. All right, all right the shave was for the troops he understood that. But still, why?

"Jon, it'll grow back," Stephen sighed rolling his eyes.

"I guess..." Jon eyed the head out of the corner of his eye as he tried to unsuccessfully keep his eyes on the television screen.

They continued like that for a few moments. Jon alternating between staring and then making nonsensical scribbles in his notepad. Stephen sighing, rolling his eyes and scooting closer to his friend. It was disconcerting to watch the way his head moved without his hair. Jon was grateful that Stephen had come back, but he hadn't come back in one piece. No, a piece of the comedian had been left behind. A piece that Jon had grown so used to.

"Jon, will you cut that out?"

"I'm not doing anything!" Jon's eyes swept back to the TV.

Silence. Then without missing a beat Stephen turned to him and asked:

"You want to touch it?"

Sweet Nothings in the Passenger Seat

Subaru didn't like planes. He didn't like their overly-pretty and polite flight attendants. He didn't like their food. He didn't like the chairs in first class either. They offered so much space and often people there would want to talk to you. All that paled in comparison though to their bathrooms. He was in first class, and the bathroom was still a pitiful small stall with barely enough elbow room for one person let alone two.

But Seishirou would never listen to him complain about that. In fact as far as he was concerned none of that mattered much. He was bored and he wanted to have some "fun." Subaru should have known better than to ask "what kind of fun?" To the other man this was a direct invitation to entertain him.

No one had bothered to stop them when they saw a twenty year old man roughly manhandled into a bathroom by a twenty-nine year old man. They didn't even blink at the yelp he gave when they were pushed together in the confined space. No flight attendant seemed bothered by the moans and banging that ensued. In fact no one raised a brow when a disheveled Subaru made his way back to his seat closely followed by an impeccable and smug Seishirou.

Subaru shivered at the invading tongue now nipping at his ear. Whispers and promises of more to come later made him squirm in his seat. No one even noticed. Maybe planes weren't so bad.

Emotion

Joker loved to watch the Batman. He loved to watch him fight his henchmen. He loved to watch the shows he put on for others to see. He loved watching. But what he loved more was being part of the act. He loved to bring forth the emotions that everyone would see. He loved to tease out the emotions that no one else was allowed to see. That's why when it was was his turn to please his bat, he wanted to try something new.

Bats was a take-your-clothes-off-slam-in-fuck-and-repeat sort of guy. The process never got boring, especially since sometimes the positions and the places were worth it. That one time on the top of the building in the Narrows had been pretty hot. Plus he was pretty sure they were the ones responsible for the cracks that appeared afterward (as well as the rumors of screaming ghosts that ensued). He liked the dance they had but every once in a while Joker liked to take charge (usually without warning) and he'd make their times memorable and probably even sexier if he said so himself.

The toys had been on sale for a while now and he'd been awfully tempted to try them out. Especially after watching the Batman beat up those stupid first timers at that bank heist. The way he moved just invited sex at that moment. So he'd taken him hostage... so to speak.

"What do you think you're going to do?"

Joker merely chuckled as he slipped his shirt off, settling himself on Bruce's hips, "oh you know. Fuck you and suck you off till all you remember is my name on your lips- that kind of stuff."

The glare he received in return sent him into a fit of giggles. Bats never did like his sex talk- too blunt he'd say. But what did that matter? He wasn't going to go all flowery and romantic on him now. Oh no... He picked up the bag off the side of the floor beside the bed and dumped the object on the other's chest. He smiled, spreading out his scars at the way the dark knight squirmed at the sight of the dildo with wings at the ends of it. He chuckled darkly at the expression on his lover's face. Oh yes Bats he leered, this is going exactly where you think it is.

Joker knew toys had to be teases not fulfilling. He had practiced with the toy himself just earlier today and it had left him... oddly displeased. Bats was both bigger and more pleasing. Still it would have to do. He had prepared the man bound before him and he was growing impatient. The show needed to get started now.

So he pressed the tip of the toy in first, twisting and turning slowly, all the while catching the subtle flickers of expression on his lover's face. He was the Batman, he wasn't supposed to show emotion. Yet he did whenever he was with him. He was able to pull a laugh out of those lips. He was able to bring rage seething in those dark eyes. He was able to bring out the pain-pleasure flutter that passed over his face.

So he watched as the Batman's eyes widened in shock until that feeling soon faded into arousal. The arousal turning to restlessness. Restlessness forming into complete desire. Desire into desperate need. He trailed his lips over the face and whispered into the other's ears. He mouthed the ear and nipped at his neck relishing in the gasps and tightness of his own pants.

"...Please..."

The word fell away into a guttural moan as he passed his hand over the bunched muscles presented before him. He trailed farther and farther until a cry escaped from the other's lips. He laughed and removed the toy shhing the whimper from the other man. He continued to watch the man as he stripped. The sight was breathtaking and dizzying. He had bound this man to the bed, aroused him to the point of desperation and in doing so turned him into something more. This was Batman. This was Bruce. This was undeniably his.

With a growl he slammed inside and moved his hips in easy thrusts, working the other into a frenzy of emotions and feelings. Drowning them both into a deep abyss of sensations where their awareness locked on each other's presence. There was nothing else but Joker and Batman and their emotions playing off of one another, in the room filled with sex, sweat and slicked hips slapping hard into each other. They rose up to meet each other and clashed for dominance with swirls of tongues and teeth. Finally they rose higher until the stars broke before their eyes and screams filled their ears. Sated they fell into one another and felt for the other's hand. They held and took the moment to breathe, emotions settling into overwhelmed bliss.

With you I fall so fast

It wasn't long before Patamon and Gatomon found out. In fact they hadn't shown any surprise at all when they were told their human partners were going out. It hadn't even surprised any of the other digidestined. And sure that didn't bother Takeru exactly but he was a little embarrassed by not having gotten together sooner.

They didn't see anyone. They were always together. And they talked constantly. They were just naturally drawn to one another so to speak (which made sense since light and hope were endlessly intertwined with one another). It was so obvious, Mimi had said and everyone had agree even Daisuke had had to grudgingly agree.

Hikari had taken it all in stride and said the "thank you"s that Takeru still couldn't quite manage to reply whenever people said they looked great together. In fact he still couldn't fight back the urge to mentally kick himself for not noticing Hikari's reciprocation earlier. Things might have been different now. Instead of just sitting close here on the beach they might actually be kissing.

He blushed slightly at the thought and looked over at his friend and girlfriend. He would definitely like to kiss her but were they even up to that sort of thing yet? Well they had held hands and hugged and given each other little pecks on the cheeks but an actual kiss. Not yet. To be honest he was a tad bit worried about trying.

"Takeru," Hikari's voice interrupted his train of thought. "stop thinking about it and just kiss me already."

He jumped and the giving her a sheepish grin he leaned into her smiling face.

Take Me Away from Here

When Simmons forced Leo down on his knees, he wasn't quite sure what to expect. Their sex life up until now had mostly consisted of hand jobs and the occasional fuck but blow jobs? He was nervous to say the least because A, he'd never done this before and B, because he honestly had no idea if he would do it right. Privately freaking out in his mind he didn't even notice the way the older man smirked down at him.

"Suck it," he ordered.

Leo wasted no time in doing as he was told. He forced himself to open his mouth and take in his lover's member. Using his hands and tongue he pumped the ex-agent and forced himself to breathe. This wasn't that different from their usual antics in the bedroom. In fact if the noises he was hearing above were anything to go by he was doing pretty good. The little moans, whispers of "oh fuck I love you"s, and the head flung back into the wall accompanied by hands curling into his hair was... fascinating.

He was completely unprepared by the stream of cum that exploded in his mouth. Was he wrong or didn't Simmons usually last longer...? Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand he smirked up at his boyfriend.

"Wipe that grin off your face and get up here." Simmons whispered hoarsely

Leo complied and as they shared a kiss he pulled back long enough to whisper, "Looks like I'm better at this than you are old man."

"Is that a challenge?" A brow arched up at him.

"I bet I can last longer than you did." Leo replied nonchalantly.

He was completely unprepared for the rough push that followed and the rapid movements that Simmons became as he tore off his jeans and pushed down his boxers. He gasped and stared down at the other man.

"I'm betting you won't," Simmons whispered.

Leo's intelligent reply was lost as it turned into a shout of "Oh fuck!"

Like what you read? Friend madwanderer~♥

Drabble: Faithfully I trace your name

Thu, 25 Jun 2009 21:27:27 GMT

Title: Faithfully I trace your name
Author: DayDreamer64/MadWanderer
Fandom: The Bartimaeus Trilogy
Pairing: Bartimaeus/Ptolemy, hinted Bartimaeus/Nathaniel
Genre(s): Angst
Rating: PG
Word Count: 376
Summary: I muse a lot because I can’t sleep or rest. I just keep on thinking.
Disclaimer: Full disclaimer here.
Note: Inspired by the song “Still Holding Out for You” by SheDaisy.

I knew every curve, every muscle of his body. My years with him gave me that knowledge. I knew him like no other and he knew me. I, sometimes in my bitterness, wish I hadn’t. There’s nothing I wouldn’t give to have seen him grow old and wise.¹

His ghost still haunts me in the night. His laughter. His eyes. I can still remember clearly how young he was when I first came to him. I try to imitate his features for my own pleasure but the mirror doesn’t reflect what I remember. It doesn’t stop me from trying.²

It’s not fair either than humans only live for a short time. Those of us that they manage to befriend are always left behind with nothing but memories. I once remembered a female magician telling me it was better to have recollections rather than live a life without them.³ It doesn’t make my pain lessen but I suppose she was right.

Still- call me a child⁴ or whatever you like- I just don’t think it’s fair. I helplessly allowed two of my masters die in my place. They gave me the gift of a life without them. And it’s not fair.

Sure Nathaniel was arrogant and stupid but he was honest. And his backtalk nearly rivaled my own.⁵ As for Ptolemy… he was too young and (dare I say it?) pure. They both were.⁶

I was doomed to remember Ptolemy alone while everyone forgot him and now I’ll have to do the same again, with Nathaniel.

It’s just not fair.

¹ I would have looked forward to a few more years of peace in this world, with his chats and experiments.
² Go ahead say it- I’m a sad, sad djinn. I’m not. I just want a glimpse of him again even if it’s not really him.
³ She was a weird one though. Liked to play pranks too much. Rarely serious but pretty amusing, for a human.
⁴ Though I do have to remind you that I am nothing of the sort nor will I ever be. Can’t say the same for some magicians though.
⁵ Not many can say that, you know.
⁶ Only young in Nat’s case. He was corrupted at the edges.

Like what you read? Friend madwanderer~♥

Oneshot: Realize

Thu, 25 Jun 2009 16:57:17 GMT

Title: Realize
Author: DayDreamer64/MadWanderer
Fandom: Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen
Pairing: Leo/Simmons
Genre(s): pre-slash, gen
Rating: PG for language
Word Count: 1,332
Summary: RoboWarrior turned out to be more than Leo expected
Disclaimer: Full disclaimer here.
Note: Saw them together in the movie and their interaction was hilariously amusing and definitely very shippable. I love Simmons to death already but these two together probably made me love him even harder. And wow first fic for this fandom go easy on me?

Him? He was RoboWarrier? He was his arch enemy in conspiracy theories? This… old guy that lived with his mother? Leo had to admit he was expecting something younger. And more geeky too. Well obviously, someone like him (always beating him to everything in videos and evidence of aliens) had to be more of a loser than he was. Not to say he was a loser. After all he was pretty damn sure he had better luck with the chicas¹ than this guy. Though he had to admit- grudgingly- that being an ex secret agent of a secret organization funded by the government was kind of cool- even for an old guy.

He looked at the stacks of papers and files in something close to awe. This…did impress him to a certain extent. Not even with his group of friends and loyal staff could he have uncovered this much information on aliens. He reached out for a folder and-

Slap!

“Hands off the goods kid.” The ex-agent warned.

Leo gaped as he held his slapped hand. Quickly recollecting himself he snapped back, “Looks like a bunch of papers to me. Probably worthless.”

“Papers though they may be they are highly classified and are no doubt staying a good deal away from the likes of you.”

Leo glared and the old man glared back. Great he was a cranky old man.

‡

A thong. The man wore a thong. No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight. That…no. Just no. The old man caught his stare and quirked a brow in his direction.

“See something you like or do you just regularly stare at men’s undies?”

Sputtering Leo glared, “you’re a sick twisted old man.” He pointed at the undergarment in disgust. “Who the hell wears that?”

Simmons merely shrugged turning back to the task at hand. Oh ew. Leo blanched shutting his eyes to the view. Of all the crazy things that had happened to him in the last twenty-four hours this had to be the worst thing that had ever happened to him. This and Alice’s real alien identity.

“You’re going to have to take your pants off.”

Leo jumped at the voice suddenly breathing down his face. Eyes widening he gaped openly. What. The. Hell. The old man ignored his reaction as he leered down at him. Leo had the dignity to swallow loudly as his heart raced wildly. Oh yeah, definitely worse than Alice.

‡

Dazed though he was, he recognized that face and that voice. A steady grip on his arm dragged him out of the bathroom, pants still down past his ankles. A grunt and a curse were uttered above him as coherency began to flood back to him.

“Didn’t know you swung that way kid,” Simmons muttered appearing before him. “Should have known from the way you were checking out my ass.”

“Wa..ss not.” Leo mumbled.

The old man chuckled as he hoisted the boy by the shoulders pressing him up against a wall. As Leo stumbled to steady himself he let an audible squeak escape him as the other man went down on his knees before him.

Blinking and blushing furiously he watched as the man grinned up at him and tugged his pants up, ever so slowly raising his body in time with his moving hands. The guy was close. Too damn close and oh fuck was he breathing in his ear?

Eyes glazed over with anxiety, he heard the sound of the zipper clicking and the soft brush of fingers on his abdomen as his jeans were buttoned then-

“Let’s go.” Simmons whispered.

-and he was gone, leaving Leo to pant out huffs of unsteady breaths.

‡

Leo watched the ex-agent pace back and forth in the room, muttering under his breaths and staring wildly. The guy had been going over the message for over an hour now, sporadically speaking out loud to him (just when he was falling asleep too, he thought, gritting his teeth in annoyance) and then to himself. Seriously he just wanted to rest. Today had been much too exciting for one day and he needed some damn shuteye.

“The three kings-"

“Man, give it a rest and just sit down already!” With that he reached over and grabbed the man as he paced by.

Yanking him into the seat next to him he rolled his eyes at the glare thrown his way

“Look I know you’re all insane about this. I am too, but dude, just get some sleep already.” Grumbling he turned in his chair attempting to get comfortable.

Without missing a beat he caught the man’s arm just as he was about to rise and muttered a sleepy “don’t even think about it” before he closed his eyes. Instantly he fell straight off to sleep, completely missing the way the man’s glare faltered and edged into something of a smile.

‡

Warm… Very warm. Leo decided he’d never get up from here. Nope, not even some stupid alien robots could wake him up now. He was damned comfortable here and dammit he’d had enough of them already. Noisy and destructive and-

He woke up with a start at Sam’s voice and clung to the nearest thing available. Mmm cozy. He leaned into the cushion further until he realized with a start that it wasn’t a cushion but an arm. He looked up and stared in horror before jumping away at the same time Simmons did as well.

Running a hand through his hair he chose not to think on the situation any longer. He dismissed the warmth quickly dissipating from his body as he slipped back into his sudden cruel reality.

‡

Live. Live. Live. Live. Leo thought furiously as he held onto the railing. No, he was not going down like this. Hell no. He was going to live and have a happy life filled with conspiracy theories, ladies and tons of friends that were just as obsessed as he was.

Holding onto the other man was difficult at best but he held on, refusing to let him go.

They looked at each other as the chaos raged on and Leo had to control himself from crushing the man’s arm. He didn’t want to let this guy disappear into that machine…thingy. It seemed too horrible of a death to him.

‡

Leo watched anxiously as the blocks of the pyramid continued to tumble downwards into the sand. The black speck he had been watching carefully had long since disappeared from view but he continued to watch in growing horror.

Damn it Simmons you can’t die on me. He thought, chewing his lip nervously. RoboWarrior or not you’re too good for that.

Gripping his hands into fists he ignored the jeers and coos from the twins. He did not need this right now. Helplessly he continued to watch, hoping against hope that that idiot hadn’t killed himself yet.

‡

“So I was thinking we could join forces and combine our websites making it one-”

“Stop trying to change the subject. You are an idiot!” he hissed, leading the man out of the medical tent. “Pulling off a stunt like that… what the hell were you thinking?!”

The ex-agent shrugged, “I did what I needed to-”

“-nearly committing suicide was needed-?”

“-What, you worried about me?”

Leo shut his mouth and glared. Simmons laughed and looped an arm around his neck dragging him closer than necessary for a man-hug. Oddly enough Leo felt nothing wrong with that. The guy could manhandle him all he wanted now- he was safe. For now.

“Admit it you would’ve missed me.”

“Shut up or I’ll kill you.”

“Whatever you say partner.”

Leo rolled his eyes as he heard the laugh. The laughter was bereft of malice and contempt for once and he felt oddly pleased about that. Sighing he ignored his fluttering heart and leaned into the other man’s touch. He’d kill him later.

Sequel >>

¹ chicas means girls/ladies in Spanish

Like what you read? Friend madwanderer~♥

Oneshot: The Investigation

Thu, 18 Jun 2009 22:42:20 GMT

Title: The Investigation
Author: DayDreamer64/MadWanderer
Fandom: Nolanverse/Earth-3
Pairing(s): Batman/Joker mentions of Owlman/Jokester
Genre(s): Gen, pre-slash, slash
Rating: PG
Prompt: Other Character POV
Word Count: 603
Summary: Owlman sees their relationship and compares it to his
Disclaimer: Full disclaimer here.
Note: I'm on a streak for Owlman I guess. ^^;; Also quotes from The Dark Knight might not be completely accurate so bear with me. And crap I'll tag/edit tomorrow. >_>;;

“You know we should really stop this fighting otherwise we're going to miss the fireworks!”
“There won't be any fireworks!”

Owlman looks on, completely intrigued with what’s going on below. Using the shadows to keep his presence a secret he moves in closer. It's... feels slightly surreal to watch this. He's watching in a way that feels different from how he usually stalks about at night. The way in which he's seeing and not seeing. The scene is just... it's so familiar and yet so different.

The one in black- that's himself. And the one in purple- that's him. He's found them just like he expects him to- locked in a battle that disregards everyone else.

But they're different in this world. In this world, they're on opposite sides of course and they are still arch nemesis yet they're not the same. This world's Bruce is on the good side and this world's Jackie is on his side. He's come to find this out through newspapers and a bit of researching in the public libraries. This world's Bruce underwent a completely different life than he did.

“By the way you want to know how I got these scars?”
“No, but I know how you're going to get these!”

He doesn't know what to make of it so he merely watches as they fight. The relationship has always been based on their fighting. In his own Gotham Jokester and he would fight constantly without holding anything back and the damn clown just wouldn't shut up. It seems the case is the same here. This Jackie is new in town and he's a complete stranger to the other. Yet the way in which they fight suggests a sense of familiarity. As if they've been doing this their entire lives and not just recently in the past weeks.

The bare bones of their souls are there. Jackie is annoying. Bruce is easily annoyed. They still... complete each other. And the thought that this is true even here in another world (and in possibly other worlds) makes him jerk away from the scene.

It just doesn't make sense.

He doesn't know where his clown is but when he does he hopes to get them out of here as soon as possible- the idea of two clowns does not please him in any way whatsoever. But he can't just stop watching. He needs to see what happens.

So he turns back to the other two.

“Oh you... You couldn't just let me go could you?”

The clown is thrown over the building and Owlman watches struck speechless when the other Bruce saves him. This... isn't what he should have done and the other knows it. Bruce should have let him die. But he doesn't.

Would you kill your own clown?, a familiar voice asks in the back of his mind.

Owlman doesn't bother answering. He merely watches, fascinated at the way this clown acts and talks. It's nothing like his own. Nothing like the clown he's had pinned beneath him, against a wall, against a bed, against the floor. This isn't his world. This isn't his life. This isn't his.

I think you and I are destined to do this forever...”
“You'll be in a padded cell forever!”
“Why don't we share one?”

And in his mind he hears a voice telling him, he wants to stay. But he can't. He has to keep looking for his clown so they can renew their dance. Their dance that's all their own.

He has to find his life again- it's not here.

Like what you read? Friend madwanderer~♥

Oneshot: Wine Red

Tue, 16 Jun 2009 20:59:53 GMT

Title: Wine Red
Author: DayDreamer64/MadWanderer
Fandom: Earth-3
Pairing(s): Owlman/Jokester, mentions of Jokester/Crane
Genre(s): Lime, Dark, Violence
Rating: R for blood, language and sex.
Prompt: Owlman has panic attacks.
Because it would be funny. Also, he initially refuses to admit that they are panic attacks and insists there must be medically wrong with him.
You can write it as enemy interaction where Jokester mocks Owlsie when he wigs out during combat, but I like the idea that the Jokester is his not-so-sympathetic or tactful lover.
What has caused the anxiety is up to the author - perhaps the fact that he's in an established relationship with his nemesis is causing him to question the fundamentals of his villainous identity? Perhaps it's a femme!Jokester and she's pregnant? I don't know, I just roll with it...
Word Count: 3,385
Summary: The prompt is enough of a summary.
Disclaimer: Full disclaimer here
Note: I know, I know this is two days late and I would have had this done sooner but blah exams so I fail at getting things done and tweaked on time. I tried to make this cracky but holy crap did that backfire on me. I hope the requester doesn't have a problem with what did come out though. And yes I did do research on panic attacks and their symptoms and I'm pleased to say I know most of them. Also holy crap this is my first fic in the fandom o_o;; go easy on me. Also for those interested in symptoms of panic attacks I suggest the three following links:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Panic_attack
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fight-or-flight_response
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Panic_disorder
They were very informative and helped me describe most of Bruce's feelings.

Bruce paces the waiting room for a long time, feeling his fingers itch for something to do. Waiting was always his specialty but lately things he used to be have changed. Drastically. He doesn't like it but at this point he can’t worry about it. He has other things to worry about. Things such as the health of a stupid clown that had come into his room, bleeding from his gunshot wound and laughing. Laughing of all things in the face of death that hadn’t been provoked by him.

He clenches his fist as he stares at the door where the clown had disappeared into over half an hour ago. He still remembers the way the doctors looked at him as if he had suddenly grown another head (which in all likelihood he wouldn't doubt given the fact that the Jokester was now involved in his life and would probably have something to do with it) but they had followed his orders to save him promptly just like he paid them to.

He still doesn't know what caused the injury of the clown but he knew he was going to find out sooner or later. And when he did, he would make sure that person paid dearly for daring to mess with something everyone- everyone- knew was his.

Just as he turns back around to pace once more a doctor emerges from the swinging doors of operation. He turns to him abruptly, waiting. He watches as his eyes widen before the doctor asks, “excuse me, but are you all right? You don't look very well.”

Bruce freezes in place, feeling the sweat gathering at the base of his neck with anger and a sense of burning start up around his throat. His heart races as he stares at the doctor in question. He honestly has no idea how to respond. He decides maybe he should try for the usual.

However he can't bite out the words, “what do you care?” Instead he feels his chest tighten for a moment as he regards him. He takes a deep steadying breath before asking, “Is he all right?”

The doctor considers him for a moment and he doesn't know why. But the burning is horrible and now... there's trembling and sweat. What the hell?

‡

There were a set of must-do's that Bruce tended to follow in his life. One was time management. Two, was organization. Three was of course, perfection. Over the course of his life he'd been able to integrate these three things perfectly by executing them in his life on a daily basis.

Bruce had his own internal clock that he studied mentally whenever given the chance. He organized and reorganized his schedule as things came up. He tweaked with his agenda when he had a murder to attend. Usually it this was when they took longer than expected. Reason being that he’d be busy watching the person writhe under his touch (he had done this on several occasions but he’d always been able to get back on time and finish all that he needed to do).

Then of course there was the separate time he left for just watching. He liked to watch his prey die from his inflictions of pain. He liked to hear them scream and sometimes he found himself listening to their choking sobs for hours on end. He didn't have these sessions often but whenever he did, he always managed to make up for lost time in his usual way- organizing evil thoughts into action.

Sometimes he walked into the hospital to choose a patient at will. He took the victim, then another and another. Sometimes he emptied the entire ward of patients, giving the nurses the day off (though most had sufficient intelligence to run away).

His schedule was always perfected in his head just before the start of any day and he never had any reason not to stick to it.

At least not before the freak came along.

In a way he almost knew on instinct that things would come down to this. His obsession to possess the man he had marked, bordered so very close to carnal desire that he knew it was only a matter of time before he took the lithe body.

The blood was worth it.

The new level it brought to their relationship was not.

‡

Bruce waits almost anxiously as the doctor regards him in silence. He feels his head spin under flashes of possibilities he knows are impossible because, no, no the damn clown can't die of a gunshot there's no way he'll ever go down that easily. Not when he knows how stubborn that man can be when it comes to living.

“He's gone into a coma.”

Bruce stiffens and falls heavily into a chair. No, this isn't what was supposed to happen. This isn't what he's been expecting the doctor to say. This- the clown can't do this to him. He can't destroy his world like this.

Wait, what?

Was he just-?

He buries his face in his hands and forces himself to breathe. This is not happening... And yet it is and Bruce knows he can't stop it. He's never felt more angry and helpless as he has in this moment. He has no... no control over the man. He's always prided himself on being able to keep the freak in check but now? Now he can't even be in control of when he dies or not and that...

That makes him so angry and his chest tightens again from worry and another emotion he can't identify. He has no desire to name his emotions either way. Now is not the time to examine new things about his mind.

“You my go in and see how he is...”

Bruce nods and stands and feels the walls close in around him. He swallows a groan and follows the doctor into the ward where they have set the Jokester up.

‡

Rough, slick thrusts of the hips was the only warning he gave the already limp Jokester before he comes. The scent of blood rose all around them and Bruce could taste it in the back of his tongue as he pushed forward again releasing a strangled whimper from the man beneath him.

His mind cleared for one blissful second of everything- order, time- this here; this sexual gratification is simply perfection. And soon it's over and he's moved away and slumping down into the body he has marked everywhere with his being. He lifted a hand to trace the bite marks he has left on the other's neck and wraps around it easily. A contented sigh escapes the usual annoying lips that are now shut.

He let his other hand trail down and curve under the shoulder until- stop. He narrowed his eyes and for one wild moment tries to think it's just his imagined when he's already pressing into the flesh and that elicits a throaty moan from the clown. Growling he gets up and turns the man over wildly.

The clown is already laughing when the realization sinks in. Son of a-

“Oh come on, Owlsie you're not jealous over a couple of scars are you?” Jackie shots him a grin over his shoulder. “Besides Jonnie was nothing like you-”

Owlman doesn't say anything after that because in the next second he sees red and he can't breathe right. Chills pass through him as he presses down into the man, listening to the way his cracks the bone out of place. A strangled shout that is followed by laughter follows and soon after he rears back and attacks his prey.

‡

The patient has been left in a room for observation to keep a close eye on his heartbeat and brain waves. The doctor explains to the villain that there are times when coma can and has led up to heart failure and- or he adds grimly- brain failure and inevitable vegetation state. The best they can do is watch him and hope for the best- that his body will ride it out and come back to them.

This speech does nothing to ease Bruce's nerves (it's because of the other's proximity to death that bothers him, nothing more) as he watches the nurses check his signs and record it on clip boards. The feeling in his throat constrictions considerably and for one blind moment he can't breathe at all. He needs and he wants air and familiarity and it's no where in this place.

The hospital reeks of cleanness and it's so foreign to him the way the walls feel against his fingers- suddenly this place is not like before. The killings he's done here feel so long ago- as if in another life- and he doesn't know what to do anymore except to rush into the room where the clown is lying unaware of anything beyond his closed eyes.

He flickers his eyes over to the man and wonders whether he can feel his presence. He's seen it in stupid cliché movies that girlfriends would take him to when he was younger. The person in the coma wouldn't be able to tell who it was that was there but they would react to the person in other ways. Sometimes with small moves of the fingers, a twitch or even a smile?

Bruce hardly believes any of that will happen but it doesn't matter much to him so long as the damn clown knows he's here and he's waiting. Yes, he's used to waiting for his prey to emerge from their holes before swooping in for the kill. It'll be no different.

Somehow though he knows that that isn't true.

Sighing in frustration he runs a hand through his hair feeling the room shrink just a tad. Something has been going on with him concerning these... sudden sensations and he doesn't know what it is. All he knows is that he's getting pretty sick of them and he wants them to go away already.

They're annoying the hell out of him...just like the damn clown does.

‡

Bruce doesn't bother with keeping up appearances when his lover comes over late at night. He’s gotten used to his sudden impulses to join in him bed. He’s pounded him senseless into the couch, the bed, the floor, the bathroom tiles, the living room table (which incidentally he has left sitting broken as they had left it last). What he hasn’t gotten used to is how easily the stupid clown can throw him off schedule.

The first times were fine because really, he doesn't like working with Ultraman much to begin with so missing out on jobs with him weren't much of an upset to him. He liked to work alone and get things done on his own. Those first few times left him immensely satisfied anyway. But then things began to get out of hand.

It’s as if someone had just flipped the switch from clean and tidy to messy and dirty in his home. He knew fully well that his home wasn’t like this last night. No, if he recalled correctly he caught every single vase that had fallen off of its pedestal while he and Jackie made their way to his room. So there was no reason for him to have woken up and finding the vases laid on the floor, broken. And the coffee stains on the couch were definitely not his doing.

He curled his hands into fists and saw red for a few moments. His mansion had been trashed. Trashed and he- he sucked in a breath when he noticed his... his nemesis snoring loudly to the television turned on high to the loudest action movie available at this ungodly hour. For a moment he was unsure whether to turn back around and head back to bed or beat the living daylights out of the idiot. He staggered at such a thought and shook himself. He knew what to do. His pupils dilated with anger and his stomach dropped sickeningly as he rushed forward, eyes suddenly out of place from the sudden movement he exerted on them.

The Jokester is laughing within a few seconds and all Bruce can do is cause more bruises to calm himself down and feel the headache leave with each contact of fist against flesh.

“You-”

Punch.

“-are-”

Punch. Punch.

“-cleaning this-”

Kick. Punch.

“-shit up-”

Punch.

“-now.”

“Oh come on Owlsie can't you call up room service and have them fix it for you-oooww!?”

The question died on a howl Bruce isn't sure was from amusement or pain. He threw in another punch just for good measure

‡

A day. A whole fucking day. And still the damn clown isn’t awake. He’s still in a coma and he’s still stuck here. He vaguely remembers having something important to do (but it’s not important anymore otherwise he’d be gone from here) but he can’t remember. He doesn’t bother trying to. It’s not long before Clark shows up, looking extremely angry.

“So, this is what you’d rather be doing?”

Bruce doesn’t bother looking up at him. He hasn’t slept for nearly twenty hours and his body has been alert and tense, waiting for some sort of sign. He can’t stop sweating. He’s pretty sure the air conditioning is on but somehow it’s not enough for him.

“We had a plan today.”

“So?” Bruce replies.

“So,” Clark narrows his eyes and crossing his arms, continues, “I think you have just jeopardized our mission and all that we stand for.”

“Just for not showing up to one job?” Bruce looks away from the mess of bandages and sneers. “Don’t tell me that you need me that bad.”

Clark scowls and retorts angrily, “this has been going on for more than two months and you and I both know it.”

“I never denied it.”

“You’d rather be sitting here waiting for a dead man to wake up rather than doing what you stand for?” Bruce says nothing and merely turns back to his charge. Clark steps back for a moment. “I don’t think I even know you anymore.”

Bruce merely shrugs and replies, “Well now you know who you’re working with.”

He knows he should probably care more but he doesn’t. He has more pressing problems to deal with. Namely the man currently lying on the hospital bed. He turns to watch the other villain go and briefly wonders if maybe he is changing a little too much…

He growls angrily and turns away. He knows he has changed and that’s all because of this idiot here. Sighing he closes his eyes against the familiar ache between his temples. He just hopes the clown will wake up soon. He can’t go on like this for much longer.

‡

Bruce had done his rounds for the night and he was heading back home. He was ready to lie down and sleep. But that doesn’t happen tonight.

He had set one foot inside of his home when suddenly the scent of iron filled his nose. He doesn’t know whose it is and for a second he thought maybe he brought it into the house. Then he remembered he cleaned himself before. Suspiciously alert to any sounds, he stepped inside and sought out where the source was.

He found it.

In his bedroom.

Jackie laid there, breath coming out in wheezes. He caught sight of his face and he realized with a jolt that he was laughing. Owlman felt his stomach drop as he stepped forward to examine the wound. It was meant to kill but it missed. He reached over and grabbed the man but stopped. A hiss of laughter turned pain.

This was worse than he thought.

He called up the hospital. He ordered an ambulance at another address and he took the man with him. He doesn’t want the public to know about his home yet.

The ambulance arrived and took the clown and him along. They had protested at first but one look at him told him they wouldn’t argue further. The flurry of movement towards the hospital is lost amid memories he would catalog and organize later. All he does is watch the man’s green eyes, hazy with pain as they kept themselves locked on him.

He couldn’t help but feel slightly angry when those eyes closed.

‡

Bruce counts the hours now as the first day fades into the second. Still no sign of the man waking up and doctors aren’t extremely hopeful. The nurses take care not to go in alone because they know he’ll be watching them for signs of information. The information about the clown’s state has been mostly kept from him. Doctors offer nothing. Nurses scamper away from him and he has no option except to wait.

This bothers him more than it should. He knows he’s excellent when it comes to patience- years of discipline have taught him to sit still when waiting- but he’s not now (nor is he ever when it concerns the Jokester). He’s tapping his foot without realizing it, he’s sweating even more and his face looks more weary and worn out with each passing hour. His breathing becomes shallow and he can pick up things from outside despite the glass.

How long will he sit there?

Who knows?

Doctor, he doesn’t look well.

Which one? Owlman or Jokester?

Both.

He’s trying to stop listening to them but he can’t help it. He continues to listen and hope theses conversations going on outside will bring him some sort of solution to the Jokester’s fate. He was always in control before. He was always perfect but now he’s a wreck and so is the other.

It’s bothersome and he can’t do this for much longer.

The room is closing in on him again. He can’t breathe. His chest tightens with pain and he looks back at the clean face of the Jokester before he stops.

“Hey Owlsie.”

‡

Bruce leans against the wall, waiting as the doctors rush in and check his vitals to ensure that the Jokester is all right and re-stabilizing. They had rushed in on his orders and now they're doing their usual routines. It's not long before they switch him to another room where he is now out of observation and hooked up to only one IV that continues to monitor his heart. He studies the nurses arranging his sheets while Jackie makes idle chat with them.

He watches and he waits before the nurses take the hint and leave before Jackie can ask them for their numbers. There's an uncomfortable silence as Bruce breathes in deeply and shuts his eyes for a few moments. He can finally feel the tension easing away just a bit.

He's alive. He's not dead. He's alive.

“Heyyyy Owlsie how long was I out?”

“Two days 3.6 hours,” he responds automatically without thinking.

The clown whistles and nods, scratching his chin, “hmmm... Jason's gotten better at his aim- you teach him?”

“Of course.”

Bruce doesn't like the direction of the conversation. He doesn't like that the damn fucking clown was so close to dying and it wasn't because of him. He's angry and just a tiny bit.... scared? He sighs and rubs a hand over his face. It's been a long time since he's slept obviously his judgment has been impaired.

“Owlsie you better get over here unless you want to fall asleep standing,” Jackie murmurs strangely quiet for once.

Bruce doesn't argue. He pulls up a chair next to the bed and sits down. The clown reaches out and pulls his head forward. At any other time before this Bruce would stiffen, pull back and punch him; later on, after things had changed he would have leaned in suspiciously keeping alert constantly; now he does none of that. Instead he leans into the touch and allows for the Jokester to thread fingers into his hair as he leads Bruce to lay his head on his lap. The steady beeping signaling the clown's steady heartbeat lulls him into a sense of serene bliss. He feels the headache dissipate quickly.

Head finally resting on a soft surface after days of discomfort, he closes his eyes just for a moment and rests.

Like what you read? Friend madwanderer~♥

Fic: Taste of Skin

Sun, 14 Jun 2009 20:01:01 GMT

Title: Taste of Skin
Author: DayDreamer64
Fandom: Batman/Nolanverse
Pairing: Batman (Bruce)/The Joker
Rating: R for violence and blood
Word count: 2,478
Summary: Bruce gets sick and only Joker can nurse him back to health
Disclaimer: Full disclaimer here.
Note: Lyrics used from various songs by The Hush Sound meant as pure inspiration/spur of the moment. Written for by_starkiller @ slashfest

( I like the taste of blood )

crossposted to batfic, batmanjoker, darkknightfic, knivesandlint

Fic: Been Wondering (Nat/Bart)

Sun, 14 Jun 2009 19:53:18 GMT

Title: Been Wondering
Author: DayDreamer64/MadWanderer
Fandom: The Bartimaues Trilogy
Pairing: Bartimaeus/Nathaniel
Rating: G
Word count: 1,000
Disclaimer: Full disclaimer here.
Summary: Bartimaeus think it’s about time he taught Nathaniel some history.
Note: First fic in this fandom and I hope you like it. It's short and relatively cute I think. But that's just me. Written for angelicfruicake @ slashfest

( History Lessons )

cross posted to rarelitslash, bartimaeusfic, and _bartimaeus_

I was just wondering...

Fri, 12 Jun 2009 20:17:32 GMT

I have quite a few people on here friended and I'd like to know just what fandoms you're here for. Please leave comments on what you'd like to see as well, I'm open to new fandoms :) Oh and leave pairings/ships you'd like to see of the fandoms I'm already in! I'm more than willing to cross ship and dabble in new relationships.

View Poll: What are you here for?

Drabbles: "Top," "Insufferable," "Just for Men," & "Wingman"

Fri, 12 Jun 2009 20:08:35 GMT

Author: DayDreamer64/ MadWanderer
Fandom: TDS/TCR
Pairing: Stephen/Jon, “Stephen/Jon, “Stephen”/Evie
Disclaimer: Full disclaimer here.
Note: Just posting some random drabbles I've had written around on pages of paper. Hope you enjoy~

Title: Top
Genre(s): Fluff, Humor/Crack
Rating: PG-13 for man-kissing
Word count: 158
Prompt: (508) “I didn't talk to you tonight because I've decided you look like a man.” From http://www.textsfromlastnight.com/
Summary: Stephen decides he can’t be with Jon anymore, Jon thinks otherwise.

Stephen crossed his arms angrily, letting a pout form. Jon sat across from him trying to coerce him into a conversation but every time the man asked a question he was met with pointed silence. Jon began to fiddle with his tie until Stephen couldn’t take it anymore-

“We can’t see each other anymore.”

“Why?”

“Because… you’re a man.”

“So?”

“It’s wrong.”

“Let me get this straight…” Jon sat up a little straighter. “You don’t want to talk to me because I’m a guy? You’ve been talking to me for ten years Stephen. You knew I was a man. Why the sudden change?”

Stephen mumbled and Jon had to lean forward to hear. When he caught the words he laughed. Moving around the desk, he pulled Stephen up to his feet and pulled his pouting mouth (it was so adorable sometimes) into a kiss.

When they pulled apart he whispered coyly, “You can top tonight if you want.”

Title: Insufferable
Genre(s): Gen, AU
Rating: G
Word count: 217
Prompt: Let go - Frou Frou “Drink up, baby doll/ Are you in or are you out?/ Leave your things behind/ 'Cause it's all going off without you/ Excuse me, too busy...you’re writing your tragedy/ These mishaps/ You bubble wrap/ When you've no idea what you're like”
Summary: Stephen doesn’t like it when Jon puts himself down.

There were times when Stephen seriously wanted to just strangle Jon. His self-depreciation was killing him every time they would sit down for a talk. It was just one of those regular talks couples (or at least couples like them) had when they were trying to figure things out after an argument (honestly who talked about). Everyone knew things had been bad when tosses had ceased for longer than three weeks. Jon was just… being completely insufferable. Everyone had noticed and they’d all asked him what had been going on. Stephen gave them one look and they didn’t ask. And everyone knew not to ask Jon.

One of these days he’d just end up punching his best friend in the face. Maybe that way he’d realize just how wonderful he was. Anything. He’d even resort to the literal sense of knocking some sense into him if he had to.

Then again Stephen didn’t think he had it in him to do it. Especially now. Things were moving and he wanted to keep that the same way. He’d show Jon sooner or later that he wasn’t completely hopeless. So what if he was a insufferable know-it-all secular Jew? That insufferable know-it-all secular Jew was his after all. Besides the arguments they had always had great make up sex.

Title: Just for Men
Genre(s): Gen, Fluff, Humor/Crack
Rating: G
Word count: 323
Prompt: 24snowli_chan and I were talking about our love for Stephen and she and I began to daydream about Stephen with gray hair. She asked for fic and she received. Originally posted here (f-locked)
Summary: Jon doesn’t like Stephen getting white hairs

Jon wasn't having the best of days. He could hear the eager murmurs of interns follow him all down the hall as he made his way to Stephen's office. It wasn't that he was jealous. Okay well maybe he was- he couldn't deny himself that he was a little jealous... A little. But he wasn't jealous of Stephen's hair. Quite on the contrary, he thought it looked good. He did however have a problem with it.

Oh he believed them when people said that Stephen's grays would make Jon run for his money. Hell, when he first saw that man, he knew straight away that he'd look good at forty. And he'd been right hadn't he? No, what people didn't realize was that he didn't believe them. People had always talked about his hair as if it were something great but it wasn't. He didn't like the attention people gave him for his supposed good looks. He was just a short self-depreciating Jew who liked some things and disliked others.

Seeing Stephen gray was definitely on his list of "dislikes." It wasn't that he was stealing his style. No, that was the least of his problems. No, it was more so the fact that people were paying more attention to him than usual. And the fawning over him was too much for him to bear.

That's why he was going to put a stop to this once and for all.

‡

He slammed the box of Just for Men on Stephen's desk with a glare. Brown eyes looked up at him with mild amusement.

“Dye it back,” he nearly pouted.

Stephen chuckled at the adorable picture of his friend's pitiful expression. Nodding he got up and moved around the desk to pat his old companion on the back.

“Looks like we're getting old eh geezer?”

“Shut up, you're not old.”

“Oh so my grays are just-?”

“Signs of stress.”

“Whatever you say Jon.”

Title: Wingman
Genre(s): AU, Angst, one-sided romance
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 525
Summary: Jon is always there for Stephen. No one is there for Jon.

Memories of past nights like this haunt him. But he’s with company then. He’s not drinking those times. It’s him doing the drinking then. He’s always here after a dump and Jon has to carry him up to his apartment (“It’s closer,” he whispers). The scent of alcohol reaches his nostrils, mingling with the familiar tears. He’s never been the one to get drunk, he is.

Jon isn’t quite sure how he got to the bar in the first place. It’s not like him to come here after he finds someone. How on Earth did he get here? He knows why of course. He knows the reason he sat there at a stool in a bar halfway out of town drowning bottle after bottle of cheap beer. He knows and understands the reasons completely.

But that doesn’t stop him from hating them (sometimes).

It had been a pretty dark haired girl tonight. A girl with clear intelligence but utter blindness when they met his eyes. Jon didn’t blame her. He still remembers his first encounter with them. He had asked for an introduction and her eyes had lit up with eagerness when they made their way over.

“C’mon Jon be my wing man for this one!” He had quickly whispered when he caught sight of her

“All right.” He had agreed.

Evie. Her full name had been waved off by his announcement that it was too long and he didn’t want to tire his muscles out too early in the night (he did that eyebrow waggle- the one that drove him crazy). She had laughed as she happily agreed. He began the talks and then he’d jump in impressing her and forgetting all about him.

Jon remembers him whisking her off and winking back at him as he retreated. He remembers how he weakly returned a smile as he waved him off, trying to be happy. He remembers his stomach plummeting from the intensity of this new blow. It had been stronger than the rest and Jon doesn’t quite understand why

He doesn’t know how he makes it up the stairs on his own. He’s so used to carrying another body up with the ever present reek of too many drinks. As he reaches into his back pocket for his keys he dimly hears the phone ringing inside. He doesn’t hurry.
Once Jon is inside he catches the last few words of the message (he always calls to give him gross exaggerations of his conquests):

“Jon, she’s wonderful! She wants to meet my parents and family already- she wants everything to be formal and I, of course agreed. She’s an elegant well brought up woman. Thanks for being there. It means a lot to have someone there to make me look better. You were great tonight.”

Jon feels his insides churn (this message sounds too honest…) as he hurtles into the bathroom. When he comes up for air the message has long been done and the machine is reminding him that he has one new message with its ever present beep. He rubs a hand over his face wiping away tracks of tears.

“You’re welcome Stephen.”

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Oneshot: Tocarte

Mon, 08 Jun 2009 22:59:09 GMT

Title: Tocarte
Author: DayDreamer64/MadWanderer
Fandom: Batman/ Nolanverse
Pairing: Batman/ Joker
Genre: Lime
Prompt: Kink
Word Count: 630
Disclaimer: Full disclaimer here.
Summary: Bruce wanted to try something new, Joker agrees
Note: For round two of the GI contest over at the batmanjoker community. I know I had fun with this- blood, rimming and bondage involved. Also this song, totally inspired this. :D♥

Joker wants to touch him. Touch him in a place where he’s almost sure no one else has touched him before. He wants to hear him scream. He wants to hear him moan. He wants to hear those sounds cut through the air and slice open the air molecules into sweat and sex. Break the air with your voice Batsy, yes, that’s it…

Joker remembered having it done to him once before. He remembered how good it felt. He still remembered the goosebumps he felt when that tongue probed his insides as the clamp was slipped on. He had screamed. He had arched his back and gasped for air, trying to-

-Shhh calm down.

How?

Breathe in deep breaths. Deep breaths.

Okay I’ll try-

Joker wills his thoughts to stop. He’s hearing too many things and if his mind keeps going over memories and sounds going on all around him, he’ll never really get this done. He wants to do this so badly and he wants to make sure he gets it just right… Otherwise, how else will he get to hear that scream?

Joker remembered his own feelings about it. His initial fear… then the thrill of excitement soon replacing it. The wonderful feeling of having another lick him and fuck his ass like that- it was sick and sexy-

-What, you’ve never touched yourself like this?

No-

Bruce is panting and gasping for air as he struggles against his bonds. Joker casts his eyes leisurely over the figure above him. He watches how those muscles quiver and curl within each other as he ghosts his fingers over them, raking his fingernails and digging deep to draw blood.

“Fuck.”

Just a word, but it’s enough to tell him that he’s definitely enjoying this. Joker purrs and the vibrations from his mouth make Bruce gasp and tighten his hold on the ropes that are holding him upright on the bed.

It was a special bed. A bed that most would never think of having… He once had one…just like this.

He flicks his tongue in deeper, sucking on the skin with his lips. He knows the torture the man is probably going through from the clamps on his nipples. He knows how painful they can be. Oh he knows…how they can almost kill a person.

Kill him from lust and heat and pleasure. Pain- deliciously, excruciating, and whirling all around him as he bites on the precious skin he has come to revere and love. He hears the scream and he reaches around to cup the member in his hand. It’s throbbing in his hand. He swipes a thumb over the pre-cum gathering at the tip.

Bats is groaning and pushing back into him. Joker laughs as he spreads the blood a little, forming little figures on the ass before him. He giggles as he sits up on his knees and pulls on his hair, forcing the head back towards his lips.

“How much do you want it…?”

“Just…just... fuck me.”

He makes a sound of approval before he complies

‡

He grins as he pulls back to look up at Batsy.

Joker can’t help but feel extremely pleased with how messed up he’s made Bruce. The tousled hair, the blood trails, the nails marks- all the little details that everyone should always pay careful attention to. He leans over and unclamps the contraption over the man’s chest. He slowly unties the ropes and brings the man slowly down on the mattress to lie beside him. He licks the red marks serving both as a reminder of ownership and pain.

“You…you fucker.” Bruce whispers, pulling on his green hair, as he forces his eyes up at him.

He rose a sly brow at him “you said you wanted something new…”

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Oneshot: World Spins Madly On

Fri, 29 May 2009 23:23:10 GMT

Title: World Spins Madly On
Author: DayDreamer64/MadWanderer
Fandom: DC-verse/Nolanverse
Pairing: Batman/Joker
Genre(s): General
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: Action
Word Count: 2,091
Summary: Joker made a promise he knew he wouldn’t keep.
Disclaimer: Full disclaimer here.
Note: For the Gotham Idol Contest over at batmanjoker. I based it off of the One Year after Infinite Crisis when Batman, Superman and Wonderwoman return after a year of absence. I haven’t read it all yet so I based some of my facts on Wiki hope it’s still enjoyable. ;;~;;

Joker thought of himself… as a director. He knew what happened in his city. He knew what wouldn’t happen to this city. He created the scenes in his head and he hee oh ha would bring in the special effects whenever they were needed. Since he took over he was always calling the shots. No one else would. He knew every little detail about the city’s occurrences and he followed them closely, watching the horror and decadence unfurl before him, making sure they appealed to his taste and were made just right. The sheer corruption found in every nick and cranny of Gotham. It was all because of him and his… directions and orders.

It was… just one big… movie (and a joke)!

And as both the director and the only audience he had to work double time. Of course there was always Bats to get in on the action. The bat in black was always, always, always welcome. But he never liked his fun. He never even tried to hide his utter disgust and that look of anger…- Joker shivered and giggled as he skipped down an hallway twirling his knife. He enjoyed their fights- there would never be another partner like him. Their wonderful dance of push and pull…

Obviously as the force of action he would do the pushing but the Bat he was doing the pulling. Because as much as he liked to believe he was a rock solid object like his earlier assumption (Gravity can only be defied for so long…sooner or later what goes up must come down…) he was wrong. Batman was falling. Falling since he had gone sane and had cracked. Falling since he had come back to him.

The dark knight had come back from the desert and had acted so odd. He had refused to come to him. He had even refused to properly fight him. He had just left him there to bleed and didn’t even bother with taking him back to Arkham. He had simply… left. The damned man had disregarded if he held any other objectives for that night and had left him there. Now Joker was no expensive dress left for a one time only party.

No, no, no. He wasn’t an object at all! In fact his own comparison to an object was a insult in or itself (but he forgave himself like always)! No, no, no Joker was… real. The only real thing left of this city after what those idiots had tried to do without him… Had dared attempted to accomplish without his presence. Oh, they had paid dearly for that…

Joker knew Batman. He knew him better than anyone else. He knew how he fought, how he would come to him in the night to his lair and beat him- unleashing the monster that craved action. Those beatings never led to anything much to contrary belief (for a time Harley had been jealous when he screamed a little too loudly but he had reassured her, he did nothing for the Bat except bring him down…to their level- she had understood afterward) and often left him sated days on end. After one particular beating he had looked up at him and told him, “I’ll stop.”

Batman had understood and left. He never came back to his lair after that. He never showed up to continue their private performance. The next day Joker surrendered publicly, and became a very sane clown running around playing tricks on people. They loved him…But it wasn’t long before Joker caught wind of how Bats had broken down. He had run off to try and find him (Strangled breathing and clicks of shoes on pavement as a broken joker ran up the path to the manor- maybe, maybe he’d find him). Had tried and failed. The butler informed him of his disappearance. Told him not to find him strictly by orders of the dark knight and he had obeyed.

He did nothing. He preformed no wrongful deed and had remained inactive. It had been so boring playing as an unemployed actor who had gone into hiding. An actor that had to sit back and watch as his colleagues triumphed without him. But just as soon as Bats made his return known to Gotham he had gone off and killed the head leader of the one who had dared defied him as the owner of this city. He had stopped being the sane clown everyone had grown to love and became the insane Joker they all knew and feared. He had returned to his wonderful pollution of anarchy and directed the moves. He found a new loyal pack to follow him and waited for Batman to come back to him.

Just as soon as he had the chance he constructed a new lair. And he waited… Bats came. And the sheer meaning behind the action made his senses tingle with life. Now here he was standing before him in an empty room in the abandoned apartment building. He prepared himself and grinned his eternal grin. He waited. The time never came. Bats just stood there and watched him. They watched each other. Joker didn’t like it. Not one…bit. He waited a little more. Still nothing. Tick tocks of the clock and still it didn’t stop. The silence was deafening. So he lashed out at him. Tackled him and toppled them over into a heap of purple contrasting black.

But the monster remained dormant. The Batman just stared intensely and Joker shivered at the way those brown eyes kept themselves trained on him. He had craved this attention once upon a time ago but now, he didn’t want it. He wanted to bring him down again. He wanted to see that monster. He wanted it! He wanted to see him! He had brought out that beast before, he could do it again!

He growled low in his throat and slipped his knife up to the skin exposed to him. Still no response. Nothing. He wanted something. Anything. But no, the Batman wasn’t moving. He didn’t even flinch when he pressed his knife harder into the skin and blood began to ooze out of his wound. He felt his resolve fading and a sort of fear crept inside of him (Please…Please…No you can’t do this to me! You can’t! You’re not allowed to!). Why wasn’t he moving? Why wasn’t he hitting him? Why wasn’t he trying to get through? There could be no scene if there was no one to fall with him. They had to fall together just like it was destined.

Could Batman see the fear in his eyes? Could he possible guess what was going through his mind at this very moment frozen in time? Could he even know what he was doing to him? Joker…couldn’t be the only one falling. He wouldn’t fall alone. He and Bat- Joker and the Batman…that, that was-

And suddenly movement out of the corner of his eyes brought the alertness back into his eyes. He darted his tongue out quickly and flicked his eyes to the side as he watched a hand reach up and cup his cheek.

He froze.

Gentleness…Batman was offering him gentleness. His eyes widened as he pushed himself away and stared in shock at the man… No, no, no! He wasn’t! He couldn’t. He crawled back over to him and screamed wildly. He beat his fists against him uselessly, trying to gain a response- anything. Hands reached up to close around his wrists, stopping him. He looked down, breathing in harshly, felt his heartbeat increase rapidly with anger, fear and confusion.

Batman began to speak, softly:

“Did you mean it?”

Joker stared at him and felt his stomach lurch. He..he couldn’t be- oh but he was…

(A promise to himself. A promise he didn’t know quite well why he was making…I’ll promise. I’ll tell him I’ll stop)

Joker laughed. It was…just so funny. No, he couldn’t possibly think he still would- tears began to stream down his face. He continued to laugh, disregarding the way he was ruining his makeup. He rested his head against the suited chest and tried to regain himself. But he couldn’t. He continued to shake with laughter and felt the man beneath him tremble along with him- but those were not the Bats, they were his own, passing through into his body and recurring back to him in waves.

He looked up and let out a last giggle before getting up and turning away to lean against the wall. It was a sufficient answer because in the next second Bats was up and angry. Yes… back to his usual self. They stood in that room, regarding each other in silence. Joker looked at his nails in a bored manner and without looking up began:

“You know things will be harder for you now.”

“I know.”

“I’m not going to make things easier.”

“I know.”

“Every time you come out to try and save Gotham I’ll be out wrecking the city and when you’re not around, I’ll blow up even more things.” Joker’s eyes flickered to those calm brown ones for a moment then returned to his cuticles, “I don’t expect you’ll lock me up now…ah will you?”

“You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Not yeeettt…” Joker replied in a singsong voice.

Joker watched as Batman moved to leave. He called out to him and he looked back at him, “You know, I won’t tell he others…to well… stop their plans... I don’t control them.. They make up the script as they go.”

Joker grinned at his inside joke and watched as Bats nodded- he got it. He just didn’t agree with it. That’s what they were. Joker and Batman- two opposite forces colliding with each other again and again like some cheesy opera where destined lovers would always find one another against all odds- the comparison made Joker laugh a little. He had told him this was their destiny and no promise he made a year ago wouldn’t change that. Still, when Bats left he looked… disappointed? Or was that sadness? He had never been good with those emotions. He had felt other negative ones such as anger but sadness? Not anymore. He had once but that was so long ago that he didn’t really remember anymore and besides it’s not like they mattered did they?

He shrugged and began to walk out of the room. He would have to get out of here soon to ensure that Bats wouldn’t come to try and find him. Hmmm... a new headquarters was in order- new decorations too since these- he made a face at the plain fading walls- were a little to blegh for his tastes. And probably some new henchmen. These were fine and all but… He shuddered at the memory of how they all wanted to touch him- the way they had looked up at him, with admiration in their eyes. He didn’t care for fans but they… they were a little too insane for his taste. Besides they tried to steal his underwear once- who does that?

He needed new men on his side now. Other people with minds… easier to manipulate and wouldn’t try any fishy business. He touched the blade of one of his knives and wondered to himself for a while. Yet... he had to get rid of these first… and how to get rid of these? Oh the ways that he could rid himself of their existence- from his life and of this world… the other times he had done the very same to others who had proved to be insufficient…

(A kick to the crotch. They were on the ground now. Hit them again in the stomach- now the knife. A sharp plunge in the ribs, then the stomach and the ripping of flesh would be heard- screams would ensue and they would do absolutely nothing because then they would find their tongue ripped off and-)

He grinned at the memory and began to hum a little tune to himself as wandered out down the stairs towards the rooms of his sleeping men. Time to act.

Like what you read? Friend madwanderer~♥

Fic: Perdición (4/?)

Fri, 22 May 2009 22:37:18 GMT

Title: Perdición*
Author: DayDreamer64/MadWanderer
Fandom: The Dark Knight/Nolanverse
Pairing: Batman/Joker
Part: 4/?
Genre(s): AU, Crack, Smut
Prompt: “Carve your name into my arm.” –Every me and Every You
Word Count: 2,078
Summary: Captain Joker isn’t pleased with his captive.
Disclaimer: Full disclaimer here.
Note: Now this is my first full blown AU fic and the premises of the world goes back to my other fic Magnolia. It is not necessary to read that in order to understand this but comments would be appreciated :D Anyways the basis of this AU is that Joker is a pirate and Bruce obviously is not- he’s an officer. In the little history I gave for them in Magnolia, Joker was captive and Bruce was the captor now it seems the tables have turned...
Also for those who are wondering what type of a ship Joker commands I suggest you look up Frigates. It’s very. Very interesting to see the pictures. *g*

Harvey stared at Joker. He had not just said what he thought he said had he? There was no way he could think of a retort fast enough before those two were at it again devouring each other’s mouths and bodies. Harvey felt the need to scream and die at that very moment. They couldn’t think of doing this to him could they? No, no, no he wasn’t going to watch he-

Bruce’s hands were reaching underneath the purple shirt the Joker usually wore and pulling it up higher to reveal skin and scars. He heard a groan as tan hands reached up to pinch a nipple. The perked flesh was then given attention to as Bruce’s mouth covered it. Joker was clearly enjoying this from the sounds he was making. It was…-

Harvey tore his eyes away and concentrated on the ceiling above him. He wouldn’t keep watching this. But no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t just ignore them. They were so alluring with their sounds and frenzied movements that soon before he knew it Harvey was watching them, feeling a smug satisfaction in the back of his head (he tried to ignore it) that Gordon had been cheated out of his favorite toy.

Joker was busy ripping away the clothing his other was wearing while Bruce had already quickly disposed most of the articles that got in the way. He watched the flurry of actions and watched in almost awe as the Joker was taken without preparation and without warning. The Joker arched his back, lifted himself off the floor and gasping as he looked up at the ceiling. Bruce circled his arms around the waist and pulled him closer, perfecting the image of an angel and demon in this middle ground where they busied themselves with pure and sinful pleasure.

Bruce didn’t even wait for those muscles to get used to him; his hips just began to thrust in and out as the Joker let out howls. The pain must have been excruciating but Joker showed no expression of hurt, instead he took it all and clawed at the back of the other man’s back, gasping and moaning at the slap of hips against his. The perfect rolling over, the angle and-

Oh fuck, Harvey felt his own arousal begin to perk up in the front of his trousers. In a split second between trying to decide whether this was sick or not Harvey gave up and reached down, trying to think of something else, of someone else here beside him who would have held him…

Rachel.

He stroked his member slowly, willing out any of the other images before him out. He tried turning off to the side, trying to rid his mind of the other two having sex right in front of him.

‡

Joker knew that Harvey wasn’t watching anymore. He had peeked a while ago when he had wrapped himself fully around Bruce, fitting his head in the crook of his shoulder and riding the explosion he had caused. He rained scratches down the man’s back, meaningless circles and bites all along the skin exposed to him. The waves of hips and thrusts, made him gasp as Bruce hit that spot. He felt his whole body shudder with anticipation and the officer didn’t disappoint.

Once Bruce heard that strangle noise in the back of the captain’s throat he drove into it again and again, hitting that same spot, angling his thrusts to match the body greeting him with each move. He could feel his release coming soon and it would be no use if-

-that hand wrapped around his, sure and expertly aware of his needs and desires. It was like a new dance every time. No matter what happened, each time was better than the last one. This little officer was now his and he wasn’t going to let him go back to another lover. Much less that stupid king. The very king that has thrown him out of the country years before. No, Bruce deserved better than that. Joker knew what would be perfect for him and what wouldn’t be. He knew this man and he new what he liked. He doubted very much that King Gordon knew what a monster this man could be.

Soon the release was coming nearer and neared. The tension and sex in the air added to the smell of fish and salt water that permeated through the ship’s walls. He could feel it. It grew in his belly then ran straight down to his balls where he felt them tighten and give way to the orgasm that Bruce had brought him to. He gasped and stayed still, waiting for Bruce to join him. And the other man did. Together they sat there suspended in this euphoria they had created because of a challenge.

This moment brought on by jealous and lust had been far better than the others. In fact as Joker slumped back against the floor, Bruce following him he felt a scratching along his own back. He writhed exquisitely underneath the touch. He didn’t feel what he was scratching into his skin and it felt wonderful. He felt alive and wonderfully full.

Then a whisper by his ear signaled him that Bruce was coherent enough already (that was fast):

“I think I am yours…”

Joker felt an odd tugging in his chest as he looked over at the other man. He stared, unsure of the statement’s meaning. He didn’t bother to ask though because Bruce was kissing him again. He’d as later though… when they were alone in his quarters.

‡

Harvey wiped his hand on the wall and slumped back against it waiting for the other two to come out of their post-sex coma-like status. He glared hard at them. They would pay dearly for making him endure this. He knew Joker was sick, but he didn’t know he was that sick. Ugh of all the crazy ones Bruce could have gone to, it had to be the insane pirate who owned his previous lover’s ship. Well at least said lover was getting his back stabbed.

And that thought seemed to comfort Harvey for a bit as he watched those two kiss again. He sighed and looked back up at the ceiling again. He needed to get the hell out of here.

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* literally translated from Spanish to English is "undoing, ruin of someone"

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Fic: Perdición (3/?)

Fri, 22 May 2009 22:05:27 GMT

Title: Perdición*
Author: DayDreamer64/MadWanderer
Fandom: The Dark Knight/Nolanverse
Pairing: Batman/Joker
Part: 3/?
Genre(s): AU, Crack, Smut
Prompt: “Carve your name into my arm.” –Every me and Every You
Word Count: 2,078
Summary: Captain Joker isn’t pleased with his captive.
Disclaimer: Full disclaimer here.
Note: Now this is my first full blown AU fic and the premises of the world goes back to my other fic Magnolia. It is not necessary to read that in order to understand this but comments would be appreciated :D Anyways the basis of this AU is that Joker is a pirate and Bruce obviously is not- he’s an officer. In the little history I gave for them in Magnolia, Joker was captive and Bruce was the captor now it seems the tables have turned...
Also for those who are wondering what type of a ship Joker commands I suggest you look up Frigates. It’s very. Very interesting to see the pictures. *g*

Joker watched as his cronies enjoyed their bounties and returned to their normal daily lives of whiskey and rum. The sun was rising and they were making their perfect getaway. Nothing could possibly go wrong… Joker stopped there and narrowed his eyes towards the horizon.. No, no sailor ever said that without something… anything occurring. It always happened. Always. It was like some sort of weird little joke life had. No matter how optimistic you looked at it, it would always end up beating you up in the end. And that’s what was bound to occur after he had just uttered that statement in his head. He turned around briskly and looked back at the shores they were leaving.

Well… looks like he was right. Grinning he eyes the boats coming their way. None of his other henchman had seen them but he had and he was about to give them the ride of their lives. Not long now before the other men would notice. One of them- of the smart ones at least- just had to see what his captain was busy looking at.

A shout alerted the others and running to the other side of the boat as they squinted to see the boats. Joker calmly walked away from them and headed up the stairs to the main deck where he settled for waving at the men he hoped were spying at him through a spyglass. He grinned at the thought before yelling, “Hoist the sails, fill the canons, ready your arms. Boys, we’re going to have fun today!”

The other pirates yelled their agreement and rushed about their captain’s orders. Joker knew this was definitely going to be fun.

‡

Harvey waited patiently for Bruce to wake up. He knew the man well enough to know he couldn’t sleep well especially not with the entire racket those pirates were making. He smirked at the faces Bruce was making in his sleep and wondered vaguely if Joker had already taken to sleeping with him. Those rumors spread fast though and everyone was bound to know if Bruce…

Well no, Harvey paused for a moment and stared up at the ceiling, thinking. No, people wouldn’t have known if Bruce had been captured… if that’s how it was then… people wouldn’t know. And that would explain why he was done in this cage. Bruce had been with Gordon. His Majesty… He rolled his eyes at the way the name sounded in his head. Nope, it just didn’t fit. Gordon was just Gordon.

He wasn’t fitting of being a king. Not after he had allowed all those… those pirates to come ashore and they had ended up burning the entire town… They had destroyed everything. His life, his dreams, his family. He burned with anger at the thought. Of course, Gordon was much too busy fucking Bruce to even bother with his little town. Now he must be busy looking for him, trying to figure out where his dear lover was.

He was too busy trying to find his darling Bruce… Well now, Bruce was right in front of him. Bruce, the cause for why Gordon had refused to help him before and had thus effectively ruined his life. He would get back at Gordon this way… This way so that Gordon would never even know. His lover would die out here at sea. In this tiny little cage with no way out.

Just as the plan began to formulate in his head Bruce began to stir. The canons above them were blowing and he could tell there was another battle going on.

Bruce took a while in collecting himself but when he did Harvey noticed the way his eyes widened in near horror. Yes, he must look a wreck now. Go on, stare… Like everyone else did (Harvey suddenly realized that Joker had never bothered to stare at him longer than a second). He flipped his golden coin easily, forgetting Bruce’s blatant staring for a moment:

“Morning Bruce.”

‡

Joker laughed at the way the other ship began to sink. Their canons had been no match for his. He jumped up and down with glee as the sailors on it jumped ship. He ordered his men to shoot and they obeyed. This was his ship. His Gotham and no one would ever dare do anything against his wishes. He was the Joker, always ready to bring chaos and anarchy into any mix. And his pirates loved him for that. None of them would have wanted it any other way. It was just what they wanted.

Some of them had been thrown away from the eyes of society for their thoughts and their ways. Joker himself had left but they, they had been kicked out. They had been destroyed within that city and that government. He hadn’t allowed that here. Here he had accepted them for the insane, and wrong people they were. They were his henchmen and they would do his bidding just because. They even tried to understand his philosophy despite knowing they never would.

They just weren’t like him… Not completely at least. In some ways they were. In other ways, they weren’t. That’s why he had never taken any of them to bed even though so many of them had wanted it. He had seen it. The way their eyes would follow him as he passed by them. The way they would stare at his hands once they were free of the purple gloves he wore. He was amused by it to say the least but he wasn’t interested.

They… just didn’t have it in them. Besides it was a bad idea to sleep with one of your own crew. He had learned that the hard way when he decided to fuck one of them one night. Her pillow talk had been bad. Her moans were corny and the names. Ugh. But that wasn’t why he had killed her. She had said she would tell all of the crew so they would get jealous and-

He had sliced her throat. Right then and there. Slipped out of his room, stark naked right onto the deck where his other sailors were. He didn’t even bother looking at them. But they looked at him, in shock and awe. He had thrown her body off the ship- no need for a burial here- and walked back to his cabin easily.

They would never ever see him without clothes again. At least not that openly. They would catch him sometimes with one of his other lovers but they always ran away. He would enjoy their eyes though. He’d enjoy the way they squirmed when he got to close to them but not close enough. That’s why they would dock in a town, to rest once a month all the while trying to ignore the fact that someone else was pleasuring their master.

Hmm he wondered whether now was the time to go check on his prisoners.. Bruce had been a good boy up until now. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad bringing him up to his cabin. He seemed to enjoy the sex and the violence that came with it. But now… now he wanted to have that man pound him into a mattress.

Hey maybe that other guy could watch.

‡

Harvey watched as Bruce began to inch forward towards the front of his cage. He stayed where he was. Leaning up against the wall of the ship.

“Har…vey? Is that… you?” Bruce asked incredulously.

Harvey rolled his eyes, “No, I’m not. You the hell do you think I am?”

“It’s just.. well you- your face it’s-”

“Burned off. Yeah what of it?”

“…How?”

“I don’t feel like talking about it Bruce. Actually now that you’ve asked me three questions, I do believe it’s fair that I ask you three questions in return… Question number one, what the fuck are you doing here? Two, are you fucking the Joker? And third…aren’t you supposed to be fucking Gordon?”

At each question Harvey wasn’t surprised to see a blush creep onto Bruce’s face despite the cool aspect of his manner.

“Fair…First, I was captured by Joker…Two and three, what the fuck do you care?”

“Bullshit. That’s not all there is to the story Bruce, you’re sweating thus you’re lying.”

“It’s hot down here.”

Bruce and Harvey looked at each other before Bruce let out a sigh and scratching the back of his head he replied, “Okay yes and yes…”

“See, was that so hard?”

“Shut up.”

“So… while you were fucking the Joker and while Gordon’s been searching for you everywhere…” Harvey didn’t care about telling lies anymore. Besides Bruce deserved to suffer like he did “I had half my face blown off. Rachel died in a fire and my daughter did as well. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“Rachel died?!” Bruce stared in horror, gripping his bars angrily. “No, she.. no I would have-”

“Well, well, well… I’m gone for a few hours and already I’m learning new things about you Brucey…” Joker’s voice drifted in from above them. “Funny... I never would have pegged you as two-timer.”

‡

As he descended down he heard voices. The two prisoners were talking. They… knew each other? Huh, it could be. The possibility was there. Still they seemed to be arguing from the sounds of it. He waited for a few snatches to conversation to fill his ears. As he waited there in the dark, revelations came to him. Bruce had been with Gordon. Of all people! No wonder he had defended this ship as belonging to that fool.

He felt something twist in his chest at the thought of that man touching Bruce… Feeling him and receiving his thrusts. Probably on a soft bed and in cool clean sheets. Never on the floor of a ship. Sex with him. Actual sex and-

Joker walked in, detaching himself from the shadows. He stared at Harvey for a moment before looking back at Bruce who was now staring at him in open horror. He shrugged and took out a key. Bruce instantly scrambled back up the wall to allow the cage to creak open. He slipped inside and blinked at the way the officer shrank from him and his touch. Growling he turned to look at Harvey who stared back coolly.

“Harvey… Harvey, Harvey… you just messed up everything!” Joker reached out and snaked an arm around Bruce’s neck. “Don’t you see? He has to forget… everything.”

“And why is that?” Harvey regarded him coolly.

“Because,” Joker made himself comfortable in Bruce’s lap, “I’m not letting Brucey go. Brucey is mine.”

“You intend to make him leave behind Gordon? The King himself?” Harvey laughed cruelly- his skin on his right side moving with the amusement while the left eerily just showed open teeth structure. “Good luck with that. I heard that man was a real winner in bed.”

Joker growled and tightened his grip around the other man. This man before them was doubting the very basis of their relationship. Their sexual encounters. Grinning widely, stretching out his scars he looked up at Bruce with a leer.

Apparently Bruce got the message. He arched a eyebrow at him in challenge. Joker raised his own challengingly. He let his hands wander down away from the neck he had latched himself onto and began to fondle the man’s body. He knew the curves, the right spots. A light ghosting over his stomach and suddenly Joker found himself on his back pinned. He grinned at Bruce and arched his neck invitingly.

Bruce leaned down and bit down on his pulse, drawing blood and a cry from him. He felt his arousal growing as he clawed at the officer’s back. He found his mouth and kissed him hard, angling his head for better access and more tongue action. He growled in approval when teeth bit down on his lip and licked away the blood.

A cough signaled Harvey’s evident discomfort and Joker released those lips to allow them to trail down his neck, he looked over to the left at him and asked with his eyes.

“Do you guys mind?” Harvey muttered, looking anywhere but at the other men.

“No.”

“At least get another fucking room.”

“Hmmm I don’t think so.”

“What? Why the hell not?” Harvey snapped his eyes back to the Joker.

“Because,” Joker replied grinning widely, “you’re going to watch."

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* literally translated from Spanish to English is "undoing, ruin of someone"

Like what you read? Friend madwanderer~♥

Oneshot: New

Fri, 22 May 2009 20:12:30 GMT

Title: New
Author: DayDreamer64/MadWanderer
Fandom: The Dark Knight/Nolanverse
Pairing: Batman/Joker
Genre(s): Smut
Prompt: “Carve your name into my arm.” –Every me and Every You
Word Count: 2,044
Summary: Joker was going to mark him in ways that no one ever had
Disclaimer: Full disclaimer here.
Note: Song used is “Dark Congregation” by The Hush Sound. For round nine of batmanjoker.

Sometimes he’ll just lay there and wait. Sometimes he’ll get up to pace. Sometimes he won’t come at all. But that doesn’t matter, one way or another he always shows up. Sometimes he’ll be on TV or cackling out in the night, waiting for the dark knight to come chase him.

It’s always the same building. It’s always at night. It’s always in the dark. But one of these days he wants them to be out in the open. One of these days he’ll watch that body in the proper light. He wants to see those eyes when they burn with anger, lust and passion.

So Joker decides he wants to see them tonight.

Things have to be perfect. He has to break him- bring him down to another level and force his monster out. He would make him into that. He knew he could

‡

A red rose
Fell upon the soft snow

‡

It’s winter and snow falls slowly to the ground. The citizens of Gotham feel safe. Their dark knight will protect him. Joker sneers at them as he leans over a roof building, head propped up on his elbows. They are so boring… When are they going to leave?

He raised his head and looked up over at the park infested with children. They al wore a variety of red, green, blue, purple, pink- the park was a colorful rainbow! It actually looked kind of pretty.

From afar.

Up close he was sure those children would reek of flowery fake fantasies. Their petty ideals glosses over with meaningless hopes, and dreams. Sooner or later they’d be shoot down and they’d be gone forever. All they needed was the right push.

He sometimes wondered about the Batman and what pushed him to dress up as a bat every day. He’d wonder about his own fall. The stress in his home. The way mother would cry and the way father would yell. She’d secretly love it though. She told him so in a closet where they hid from him. She’d been crying and she was bleeding but she quietly held him so tightly in her lap. She talked quietly in small whispers while he played with her beautiful golden hair.

“I love you. I love him. I love you. I love him. I love you. I love him.”

But that love had quickly turned to hatred as soon as he found them. The scream she let out was nothing to his guttural growl as he pulled him away from her and slammed him against the desk. He was small but the blow to the desk was enough to send him falling, pictures placed there teetering and falling over. The family portrait laid before him, destroyed. The glass lay there shattered.

He reached out a tentative bruised hand towards it. If he could just reach out and-

“Mommy!”

The shout of a little boy in red interrupted his thoughts. Looking at himself he realized that in his deep reverie he had begun to enact it out by reaching out into the air. Shaking his head with a sardonic smile to himself he pulled it back. He looked down and saw that the boy he’d seen earlier had fallen to the ground. Apparently he had been knocked down or he had just tripped. Either way the mother came rushing up to him, picking him on his feet and dragging him out of the park.

Soon many other mothers were picking up their children and leaving. The sky was turning a light shade of lavender. Despite how safe the city was now, many of them still feared being out alone in such weather. There would be another snow fall tonight.

Joker sat up a little straighter and glanced at the surrounding streets- they were empty. It was time to act. He had sent the message to the bat already, telling him to meet him here. He headed to the park with a spring in his step. Maybe he’d get to play in a park now.

‡

Our breath rose in the cold
Like a hundred souls

‡

The tricky thing about snow was that the whiteness would become so bright despite the darkness all around. And it was cold. But winter was always like that so what difference did that make? Joker could see his breath rise up above him, forming a slight ghost of a cloud. He giggled at the formation it made- it look like a bat… or that may be because the bat was currently standing in front of him.

He smiled at him happily and waved, “Well hellllloooo.”

“What do you want?”

“We always spend some alone time Bats.”

“Not here.”

“And why not?”

“It’s a playground. Someone could see”

“Oh soo… let me get this straight. You’d rather fuck me in an abandoned warehouse… where no one can walk in on usss just to make you feel better? Just so that way you can…. hiiide me? Do you really- ah think you can do that?”

(Joker watched the way their breath rose up with each word spoke- open mouth, cue breath, close mouth, cue breath in front of you- it was practically clouding his vision)

“…”

“What’s that Bats… cat got your tongue? Or…” Joker smirked at the way those eyes narrowed ever so slightly in his direction. “Are you just so angry you can’t even speak…? Are you mad that I’m bringing out into the open what you’ve been so carefully trying to hide? Are you?”

“…”

“Because that’s what I see. Every time we’re somewhere by ourselves, you never bother… really um looking at me do you? You don’t want to see. But oh…” Joker inched forward. “You’ll be sure to see tonight I bet. Look around you Bats!” He twirled around on the spot. “Gotham doesn’t care. I don’t care. Go on, see if you can pretend I’m your old squeeze when I’m right in front of youu.”

Batman lashed out and grabbed him by the neck, pushing him against a tree. The wind howled, telling soft stories of sorrow. Joker smiled, raising his eyes brows at the man pinning him.

“Don’t you dare talk about her.”

Joker just laughed. So this was one of the finer points of Batman’s buttons that needed pushing. Interesting…

‡

If I could I’d lock you up
And toss out the key- it’s just you and me

‡

He pushed Batman back and scrambled forward to bring up the rope he had hidden in the snow before. He bound those hands as tight as he could, knowing that either way the dark knight could and would get out. Except… the batman made no move to try. He led him towards the trees where the park faded away to the trees. He found the large tree he had chosen earlier and tugged him towards it. He picked up the rope and lifted it above to tie around a branch.

Joker took careful note of the way the Batman allowed all this and did nothing to stop it. He took the plates off his lower body easily, already having committed to memory (Bat had never realized he could see him) the way they moved on and off. He smirked at the erection the other man sported and tugged at it playfully, earning a moan from above him.

“Do you like thaaat?” he whispered.

“Yes…” one of the things Joker liked about Bats was that he never lied about his pleasures. He would voice out his real wishes with those easy slaps of the hips and that beautiful groan when the explosion came.

He moved over to him and pulling him closer brought their lips together, feeling the way those teeth grazed against his own. He bit and tore at the flesh presented before him, loving the way his makeup and his lover’s blood tasted on his mouth. He lapped at the mixing substance and moved lower to his jaw, nipping and leaving a trail of blood and red lipstick.

Reaching into his own pants his pushed away the zipper easily and began to stroke himself. Just a light touch at just the right angle and just the right flick and oh! He was practically jumping out of his pants in his excitement. He didn’t bother to prepare. Didn’t need to. He went down on his knees and took the member in his mouth, working his throat muscles to relax.

Listening to the groan above him made him smile. He moved lower, positioning himself right underneath those spread legs. He licked down past his lover’s balls and reached his opening. He gave a tentative lick at first just to see the reaction. The Batman jumped and Joker saw his member twitch slightly. It was imperceptible to the normal eye but Joker was close to it and he could see the way it throbbed. Pleased with the reaction he received he licked again, only this time he worked on Batman’s member with his hands, pushing his tongue further into that hole.

The strangled cry above him left him hungry for more. So he pushed in deeper, bit lightly at whatever skin he could reach and twisted his hand in a slow even tempo. He could tell the Batman would want more action soon and he was prepared to give it to him… only he didn’t want that. No, he wanted him to come with his mouth inside of him as the bat fucked his hand.

He increased his strokes and his tongue became quicker, flicking over the opening, sucking slightly as his lips closed around the wrinkled skin. Another stroke, another flick and already the bat was coming hard. He felt it build up and spurt out in this hand as the throbbing member twitched and came. He smiled and moved away to listen to the pants and huffs of his lover. Quietly he licked the cum off his hands, all the while looking up at him. He reached down with the same hand and stroked himself. He knew all the right tricks he liked. The right way his member would react when he touched it the right way. His breath came out uneven and he let out a small moan as he fluttered his eyes closed. He bit his lip hard, drawing blood. He was soon coming quickly, spilling into his hands. He huffed out an exhausted and sated sigh before looking up to see the Batman coming down to his knees before him.

He knew it wouldn’t be long before he would get free. And now he was right there in front of him, kissing him and devouring his body with those wild hands, touching him and holding him tight against the suit. He went willingly, unable to stop himself from the gentleness the Batman now offered.

Joker was sure no one had touched him like that before…

‡

We are alone
I know you’re gone.

‡

Joker wrapped his arms languidly around the Bat and leaned on him hard. He pushed them over into the snow. He picked away at the plates and before the Batman could even stop him, he already had his chest exposed to him and the cold, knife steady in his hands. He loved the shiver that ran through the other’s body as he pressed the cool steel to the warm hot flesh. He traced it lower to his arm and stopped. There were new scars there… scars that he hadn’t given him. He glared at them and growling he pressed his knife over them.

He ignored the gasp from the vigilante and pressed into the skin (he knew how deep he had to go to leave a scar) carving out his name.

Joker.

Mine. He thought possessively as he wondered who had done this to his other half. Who had dared stain his property? He would find out soon enough. Pushing away from the bat he pulled up his pants and walked away. He had other business to take care of now.

At least Bats knew who he belonged to.. and if that person left marks on him again, then he’d carve over them and leave no question about who he belong to. The Batman was his.

Like what you read? Friend madwanderer~♥

Fic: Stripped

Mon, 18 May 2009 04:02:34 GMT

Title: Stripped
Author: DayDreamer64/Madwanderer
Fandom: The Dark Knight/Nolanverse
Pairing: Batman/Joker
Genre(s): General, Denial, Humor
Rating: soft R
Prompt: 1350. The Dark Knight, Batman/The Joker. Bruce Wayne sees himself and Batman to be two separate people. So when Batman finds himself responding to The Joker's advances, that doesn't mean anything about Bruce Wayne, does it?
Word Count: 5091
Summary: He would bring him down to his basic needs sooner or later.
Disclaimer: Full disclaimer here.
Note: This got waaaaay out of hand. Also this was my first time really writing using Bruce's voice. It was pretty hard since I'm so used to Joker by now but I think it came out okay...I think. |D;; Also this was inspired by Striped by Shiny Toy Gun. ♥

Bruce had endured many things since he was young. He had seen the face of death, injustice and anger. He had once had friends to hold close to his heart. Those friends were gone. Those youthful days filled with laughter were gone. And that little boy people had come to see as young master Bruce Wayne was now long gone. He was now Bruce Wayne, rich playboy and Gotham’s most notorious bad boy. He bought sports cars, went out with supermodels, and wasted his money away as if it were nothing. He attended parties and held them amongst people of high class deemed by the press as “worthy” of his booze.

Tonight was one of those nights. A rich lady whose name he’d forgotten had invited him to come to an extravagant restaurant in order to celebrate her birthday. There were many women around him now, starting up conversations about meaningless topics that he held fairly. No one would have guessed how bored he was and how anxious he was to finally rid himself of this ridiculous suit and enter another one. Last he had heard another robbery was taking place and he had to go quickly to put a stop to it. Alfred had made him promise to stay at least a few moments to at least wish the young lady good luck but he didn’t know who she was.

He gave up the party as a lost cause and left, detaching himself from the beautiful ladies that had handed him their phone numbers. They were pleasant enough to carry a conversation but Bruce doubted he would choose any of them up on their offer. There had only been one woman he would have ever taken seriously and now she was long gone.

Now all he did was flirt jokingly and dated for fun. He wasn’t looking for a serious relationship with any other women. No one could tempt him otherwise.

‡

Let’s get away
Just for one day

‡

Joker decided now was the time to act. He had his henchmen ready and waiting for him outside of Arkham. He knew where they would position themselves. All they needed was for him to get out. And of course he’d get out. He was just taking along a small tail to help him along.

“What are you planning on doing to him?” Crane asked narrowing his eyes.

“Me? Plan?” Joker laughed. “I don’t plan! Never have and never will. I’m not a schemer like those incompetent fools,” he pointed at the doctors and nurses watching them intently, “Their plans are bound to fall in on them. No, no I just do.”

“So I see.” Crane nodded and shrugged. “So when shall we proceed?”

“Tonight.”

‡

Batman leaned over the ledge of the building, watching the police round up the men he had captured, into police cars. They were still intent on chasing him but that didn’t mean they didn’t appreciate the little jobs he did for them here and there. Sometimes though, they would chase after him instead. They should have learned by now, he wasn’t going to stop doing the things that this city needed. He was the only one who would do anything for Gotham. He wouldn’t let this city go to pieces or allow its destruction in foreign hands. His parents had died trying to help this city, and if worse came to worse so would he. He had grown up here and he would be fine with dying here as well.

Spreading his cape to catch the wind, he jumped to another building as he continued his patrol. Villains were popping up more and more these days and that meant more time as Batman and less time as the playboy billionaire of the city. Not that Batman was complaining. Still, he should have realized the amount of attention he would be drawing to himself and to the city when he came out from the darkness. This wasn’t what he planned. This attention was… unwanted. The best thing for Gotham was to drive away villains not attract them. Could he have stopped it though? In order to stop these people he had to become a symbol for all to see.

He was drawing the awareness out from this decadent city. He was calling out to her and telling her to pick herself up. He was trying so hard to save her from the evil that was lurking within the shadows. But the city hadn’t answered his calls immediately. No, instead another type of person had answered and called out back to him. His muscles visibly tensed at the wind slapping his face.

The Joker.

It had been a couple of months since he’d heard of him but since he last escaped Arkham he’d been acting rather… odd. Batman shook his head as he made his way back to the penthouse. He couldn’t really say the Joker was odd because the truth was he wasn’t; he was insane. That man needed to be left in a padded cell to rot. There he would cause no more harm to the people of this city. In those closed walls where he would be kept from thinking too much about his next bomb explosion.

At least in that place he wouldn’t bother him anymore. As it was, knowing that the Joker was out there, lurking didn’t make Batman any happier (not to say he was). Especially after their last encounter, he didn’t need a repeat of that again…

‡

Gordon had called him up to inform him that the crazy man had escaped and that he was holding a doctor hostage. Batman had immediately set off to right what was wrong only to find that the doctor that had been taken was actually Crane. It had all happened so fast in a whirl of laughter and toxin that he didn’t even realize when the ex-psychiatrist had left him and the Joker alone on the roof of that abandoned warehouse.

He’d felt those legs pinning his down preventing his movement (since when had this clown become this strong?) and arms wrapped around his neck as lips whispered by his ears tantalizingly:

“Noooww…doesn’t this feel goood?” The Joker smacked his lips, taking care to stifle his rising giggles. “Doesn’t it feel so good to just lay here and…resss-t?”

Bruce had lain frozen on the ground, unsure of what to do as two personalities raged inside of him. Batman had noticed. He had always noticed these sort of things but Bruce? Bruce was now left alone as Batman took over the situation as best as he could. This crazed maniac had killed his only hope of a normal life but he was also the only one he could have- the only constant he would always have. And now Batman was responding to this. Bruce tried to push the man away but he couldn’t. This was the dark knight’s time to play and live and Bruce couldn’t come and intrude.

Those legs were so perfectly tangled up in his, hovering in just the right places. He couldn’t help but feel the need rising up to reciprocate the one-sided touches. The raging battle inside of his mind was intense with Bruce yelling about justice and morale and-

-that’s when Joker hit him, aiming straight for the head.

He had awoken alone, cowl still placed on his head. He sighed in relief at the thought of keeping his real identity safe. He had gone back to his lair and felt the guilt begin to settle in.

Batman and he were two entirely different entities. Batman was a beast who allowed him to bring the right to this city through his suit while Bruce was a mere man; a man that could do just as much for the city but not enough. That’s why he had to become another person. Another being altogether within his own body had to exist for him to defeat men like the Joker.

But did Batman have any say over his body and desires? Bruce didn’t pursue that thought any further as he sank into a chair and looked up at the monitors showing the city’s streets. Batman was the beast and Bruce was the man. Bruce had a control over Batman didn’t he?

‡

That night still stood out vividly in his mind even after nearly two months without seeing the crazed maniac. He was completely fine with his disappearance but the point was that the whole situation left him on edge and constantly alert to any new dangers and suspicions that might cross him, concerning the Joker. It wasn’t like the clown to just up and leave especially not after a stunt like that. After nearly a year of fighting him and learning his strengths and weaknesses (he really had little to none) he was almost sure of what drove this man- chaos.

So, for the man that had been so intent on destroying him and the rest of the city, to suddenly leave was nothing short of bizarre. The Joker was practically part of this city just as he was, and he couldn’t just disappear into the night. He was bound to come back.

And that’s what worried Bruce the most. The fact that he was just waiting for him to appear. He would never admit it to himself but every time he saw the signal in the sky and he donned his suit, Batman had been expecting to find the clown. But every time he had been disappointed.

‡

We’ll lie on the grass
And let the hours pass

‡

“You aren’t going to kill him?” Crane asked bending down over the unconscious man before them.

“No, of course not. If I did wouldn’t I have asked you for a different type of toxin?” Joker replied straddling Batman easily. “He’s… just too much fun.” Joker trailed his knife lovingly over the exposed skin. “No one is allowed to kill him but me.”

Crane didn’t reply. He just stared at the two men hard, gears turning quickly. His calculating gaze left them and he shrugged. Turning to leave he threw over his shoulder:

“Do as you like. I suppose I’ll see you around.”

Not likely, Joker mused.

‡

Another two months had gone by and things about the city had become a certain sense of normal. That is until Bruce got a call from Commissioner Gordon.

“The Joker-”

That was all he needed to hear before he growled in return,

“I’ll be there.”

Bruce couldn’t have guessed what was up the Joker’s sleeve this time. Too much time had gone by and he had almost forgotten about him. Almost, but not quite. The man’s laughing face was forever burned into his skull.

He slipped the suit on, and prepared himself to face the man. He wouldn’t let him get the upper hand this time.

Yet nothing could have prepared him for this sort of predicament. This time would be different from the last time. Very different…

‡

Take my hand
Come back to land

‡

Joker knew all about the right times to do anything. Time was of very little importance in general but he had to do everything at just the right time. Otherwise the show would begin late! And he was never one to be late. No, no, no he was a man of his word. When he said he would start at seven pm he would start at seven. When he said a man would die tonight, a man would die tonight.

No one would defy his words. Not even the Batman. Besides, he was doing this for him tonight.

His permanent grin stretched widely as he stared out of the warehouse’s small windows above him. How long had it been since he’d played with old Batsy anyways? Three months? Four? He whistled under his breath with a giggle, sure was a long time since he’d pinned him down on the roof..

I bet you missed me Bats.

The idea of the brooding bat freak worrying over him caused him to laugh. And that’s all he needed to set him off for soon he couldn’t help it. He was laughing and laughing and his henchmen had no idea why.

‡

Batman felt his skin crawl as the Joker began to dance over the dead clown. He didn’t know what had happened and he didn’t need to. All he knew was that the anarchist was plotting something that could very well bring about the end of Gotham.

A video had been sent to Gordon and he had watched it alone.

“I bet you guys all…ahh.. missed me didn’t you?” The Joker winked coyly at the camera, letting out a giggle. “Well seeing as how you’re all sooo boring, I’ve decided that time was right to blow you all up! Then it’ll be Batsy and me. You see kids, mommy and daddy need some allll-ooone time. ”

He hadn’t even bothered to finish watching the rest of the video when he headed to the place where Joker had told him to come. Gordon had set up a perimeter, waiting for his call as he sneaked in through the roof.

He watched as some of the clowns fell by the maniac’s knife. None of them even raised hands to defend themselves. They were completely willing to die so long as it was the Joker. He felt disgust at the way these men worshipped him. How could there be so many of them?

‡

Let me hear you
Crying just for me

‡

Joker grinned cheekily at the hero before him. Just on time! He felt the blow deliciously cut open his lip. He moaned before letting out a bark of laughter, eyes glittering with life as the dark knight picked him up.

“What are you up to now?!”

Batman felt his blood begin to boil at the laughter that protruded from the mouth of his enemy. He shook him again and threw him up against the wall. He would put an end to his plans the first chance he got. He would find out where those bombs where, deactivate them and-

-he blinked in surprise as the clown began to move up against him, coaxing his legs around him.

“Come on, Bats. Don’t tell me you didn’t miss me!” Joker leaned in to chance a lick at the cheek close to his. He whispered close by where guessed his ear to be: “I know I did…”

Joker could feel those muscles tense beneath him as he pulled the man closer to him. The feel of the suit against his thin clothing was absolutely exquisite. He needed more though. He needed violence, anger, and that voice. He needed to hear it growl just like before when the man had held their faces just inches apart back in that room back at the MCU.

Batman dropped him to the ground, backing away in horror. He…he had-

Joker laughed at the face of the man. He rolled around; tears of amusement streaming down his face. The bat was just so amusing.

“You’re disgusting.” Batman growled.

“Oh- come on.” Joker wheezed. “Don’t tell me you didn’t like it.”

His tongue flicked out to lick his bloodied lips and he watched with interest as the Batman stared at his lips. He grinned and licked them again, watching the way those dark eyes followed his every move. He slipped a hand through his disheveled hair and threw back his head, exposing his neck.

Not long now…

Batman felt his throat tighten at the image of the Joker before him. He closed his eyes against the tantalizing man and drew in a deep steadying breath before opening them only to find the man standing right before him, ready to pounce.

He fell over not expecting the weight of the man and groaned as those lips attacked his. The kiss was all tongue and teeth. Crosses of moans and giggles escaped the clown’s mouth and he was surprised to hear a growl slip from his own. This… this wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be.

And yet it was. Joker was devouring his very soul and his mind was wiped blank as this presence dug underneath his suit and breathed heat throughout his entire body. An intake of breath and soon the man’s tongue was tracing his teeth, sliding along his own pink one. He touched the tongue, hesitantly at first before he raised his hand to pull tightly on the green hair, forcing it at an angle so he could kiss him properly.

It wasn’t until a pair of fingers began to creep under his mask that his eyes sprang open and the reality of his actions struck him. He stopped, and reached down into his utility belt. He wasn’t going to allow anymore of this.

‡

A few hours later and Bruce found himself back in his penthouse, standing underneath the showerhead. The warm water soothed him as he went over the events of last night.

Batman had personally sent Joker back to Arkham. No bombs had been found and Joker had admitted to activating none.

“I just wanted to have a little fun!” Joker had giggled.

He shook his head and sprayed water all over the stall. He had had enough of this. The Joker had gone too far last night.. That kiss..-

He shut his eyes and glared at the soap in his hands. How had Batman become so weak as to let that happen? Batman had been in complete control last night and Bruce had been nowhere near in sight.

It felt good. A voice whispered at the back of his head.

Bruce ignored it and shut off the water angrily. No, Batman couldn’t have liked that kiss. He didn’t. It was a kiss from the man that had killed Rachel and Harvey- a kiss from the madness that had killed his own parents. And Batman… had accepted it.

He looked at the clouded mirror for a moment, losing himself in his reflection. This… was so wrong.

‡

Let me hear you
Speaking just for me

‡

Joker whistled a tune under his breath as he laid on his bed. Last night had gone wonderfully. He hadn’t expected that of course but hey, he wasn’t complaining. The Batman had been a good kisser after all. And besides it was just what he wanted and more. Who knew when the dark knight would allow a slip like that again?

He hoped it would be soon.

In fact… Joker’s grin widened as he sat up on his cot. He would make sure it would be soon. He began to whistle again, ideas and fantasies pulling at his mind as he closed his eyes.

Now all he had to do was wait for his henchmen to come and-

-an alarm began to go off throughout the building.

He smiled to himself. Well that was fast.

‡

Pearl Tyrone was a blonde woman of considerable wealth and was very beautiful. However she bored Bruce Wayne to no end. He sat at the table, sipping his wine carefully not allowing any of the liquid to make its way into his mouth. He watched the way her eyebrows moved up and down with her hands as she carried the one-sided conversation.

Idly, he tapped his fingers on the tabletop and eyed his cell phone hopefully. He just really, really needed something to get him out of here so he could-

Ring!
Ring!
Ring!

Gordon’s number appeared on the screen. Bruce thanked whatever being up there had heard his thoughts and achieved his wishes. Smiling apologetically to the woman sitting before him he pointed to his cell phone. She nodded gracefully and resumed her meal. He got up and headed to the bathroom where he dialed Gordon’s number.

“What is it?” He asked.

“It’s the Joker. He and Crane- they’re threatening to put the entire city to sleep within two hours if you don’t appear at this restaurant called Olive Osteria-”

“I’ll be there.” Bruce growled.

He clicked the phone off and headed back to his table. He stood before the woman and began:

“I’m terribly sorry about this but something urgent has come up and needs my undivided attention-”

“You don’t need to apologize to me Bruce,” Pearl smiled. “It’s not like I didn’t expect it anyway.” She sighed and sipped idly at her glass. “I bet he must be pretty lucky…”

“ ‘He?’ ” Bruce echoed in confusion.

“Well obviously he must be a he. I’ve noticed the way you ignore us women,” she grinned. “And I can’t blame you- guys sure are a wonder sometimes.”

“No, no you’re mistaken I-”

“Oh don’t Bruce.” She waved her hand dismissively. “I’ve heard all the other girls from the agency talk about it. You always arrange for a fancy date with one of us and then you leave halfway through it after you get a phone call from this mysterious man. And you always claim something urgent has come up.” she sighed lazily. “Don’t think we haven’t noticed. Just tell me something, is he cute?” she winked cheekily at him.

Her coy manner sprang up memories of the clown and he started uneasily. He rubbed the back of his neck. He had to get out of here and go save Gotham. He had no use for standing here and listening to the silly observations of a woman he hardly knew.

They’re true though, a voice whispered.

Are not, he mentally scolded the voice angrily.

“Look,” Bruce began again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about but-”

Bruce took one look at the woman’s smile and the arch of her elegant eyebrow and he stopped. There really would be no fooling the woman. Something about her reminded him of the way Rachel would look at him when she knew he was lying and was expecting him to come out with it. Their mannerisms were the same but their soul was not. Sighing he slumped his shoulders and looked at her- he wouldn’t be able to do anything to change her mind. Somehow though, that didn’t bother him as much as he thought it would.

She shrugged and went back to her meal.

“The limo will take you home,” Bruce stated, trying to regain control over the situation. Her amusement was enough to tell him that his attempt was for nothing. “I… had a good time.”

“I did too,” she replied cheerfully. “I finally get to say that I was taken out by the famous closet case known as Bruce Wayne.”

Bruce held back a groan and smiled as best he could. He had a feeling rumors about this had been circulating for far too long.

“Goodnight Pearl.”

“Goodnight Bruce.”

‡

Where everything’s ours
For just a few hours

‡

Batman stood in a small empty restaurant. The fading yellow wallpaper was decorated by little sailboats. He looked around and found the Joker sitting alone at a small round table drinking a glass of wine. He had said he’d be waiting for him here. No policemen had followed him this time; they were all awaiting instructions back at the MCU. They had begun to trust him again.

“Wellll,” Joker greeted. “Nice of you to join me Bats!”

Bruce clenched his fists and stared at the clown. Something had happened to the city. He didn’t need to even ask. As he had driven through the city, all had been quiet. Much too quiet.

Joker watched the man before him impatiently. Come on Batsy, get on with it! He tapped his fingers on the table. You know you want to…

“What did you do?”

Joker grinned up at him. Yes, there it was. That demanding voice just waiting to be appeased with an answer. He sat back in his chair and motioned for the bat to sit down. He did so. Leaning forward he licked his lips he smiled, “I ahh… put them to sleep!”

Bruce stared. No, he had to be kidding. The clown let out a peal of laughter. He wasn’t. He glared hard at the maniac and asked, “why?”

“Why? Well, to have some alone time of course! Didn’t you remember what I said before in my last video? I told them… mommy and daddy needed some aloneeee time.”

“You have me here. Now wake them up,” Bruce replied.

“Not yet.” Joker whispered. “We still have plenty of things to do.”

‡

Bruce watched as the Joker got up and made his way over to him. He didn’t know what was going to happen. He had some idea but the Joker wouldn’t do it…would he? He felt a hand curl shut tightly on his shoulder as the Joker neared him. A small whisper by his ear was all the warning he got as the clown sat on his lap.

The make-up looked so surreal up close. The careful touches here and there prevented any skin from peering out at him. He felt the man shudder at the contact. The face neared his and soon before he knew it the clown’s lips where on his for the second time this week.

But this time he expected it. He grew into it and he kissed back just as hard. Through his gloved hands he could feel the man tremble in his arms from suppressed laughter. Growling low in his throat he pushed him up against the table, lifting up his hips and slamming his back onto the table.

The Joker laughed.

‡

You’re breathing in fumes
I taste when we kiss

‡

Joker was having the time of his life. Those hands were strong and determined. No more hesitation and no plan formulating in the bat’s mind. No, he was just acting now. Purely acting like the beast he was. He had brought it out again. He had awakened the desire within him. It hadn’t taken much…

All it takes is a little push.

He felt hands roam his body and his skin was on fire. Bruising fingers dug deep into his arm and he gasped at the touch. It was perfect. Just the right amount of pain counteracting the pleasure the mouth was offering him. He opened up to the Batman, offering his soul as the Batman dove into this dark pit.

There would be no turning back. The Batman was his now. Only his.

‡

Batman felt himself falling. The Joker had won. Is this how things were to be from now on? No. Things couldn’t be this simple. He held the man’s lower lip between his teeth and bit down hard. The wanton moan that escaped those lips left him hard. He could feel his steely resolve to save Gotham first dissolve quickly.

The only thing that mattered now was the body lying below him, pressed up to his, crawling hands pulling him closer. He must have been suffocating the Joker. The idea pleased him. The eyes of his enemy were drowning with lust and insanity. They were no longer just Joker and Batman anymore- these were two vessels carrying the souls of great deities performing the ritual of pure sexual desire.

He trailed a gloved hand lower and felt the intense arousal of the man before him. Never, never, had anything like this occurred with any other person. He had never been with a man. But did Joker qualify as a man?

Batman forced the thought away as he gripped the man’s pants, forcing them down below his knees. He didn’t prepare himself or the Joker; he just pushed away the plates concealing his own erection and shoved himself in, drawing out a scream from the clown. Bruce could feel the blood trickling down from the man’s ass but he gave it no further thought as he pushed into that tight opening.

Was this what it was like to connect with another?

‡

Bruce awoke in bed to the sounds of Alfred leaving his breakfast on a nearby table. He stared up at the ceiling for a few moments before heading over to his window. The city was busy bustling about its usual business. He sighed heavily and leaned his forehead against the cool surface. Gotham was safe. And that’s all that mattered.

He covered his face and breathed in deeply. Last night… Last night Batman had done something…- no, Bruce and Batman. There was no longer a difference was there? Especially not after last night when both of them had been there to witness and take part in the… things that went on.

He swallowed hard at the memory of the Joker. He had been…so beautiful.. There was no other word for it. He had done that to him. He had brought that sort of life in him. The evil doll he had once seen the clown as was gone. He had been replaced by passion and sensuality. It was a crude sense of sex but it had been sex nonetheless. And it had been good.

He shook his head and turned back to his breakfast. He had had sex with his enemy… He had enjoyed it. He- both as Batman and Bruce had gone crazy over the act that they had preformed.

Sighing he discarded his breakfast and went to take a shower. Wayne Enterprises was expecting him at a meeting.

‡

Let me see you
Stripped down to the bone

‡

Joker laid on a roof staring up at the clouds.

Hmmmm, that one looks like a bat. And that one looks like a bat. And that one, and that one and-

Vaguely he wondered how well Batman was going on this morning. He smiled. Hopefully he was doing great. Especially after last night. He had stripped him down to his basic elemental needs. He had brought out into the open the carnal desires and lust for another being from the hero- and that being had been him. He had fulfilled the part well and well, Batman did okay too.

Joker laughed as he remembered the way the dark knight hastily retreated after the act was over. Just like he thought he would. He knew it would happen. The Batman was still one mess of pure chaos- what he would give to look in on his mind right about now. Just to see what kind of hell was swirling around in there.

He sat up and winced slightly. Then he grinned- the pain had definitely been worth it.

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Fic: Perdición (2/?)

Sat, 09 May 2009 03:05:26 GMT

Title: Perdición*
Author: DayDreamer64/MadWanderer
Fandom: The Dark Knight/Nolanverse
Pairing: Batman/Joker
Part: 2/?
Genre(s): AU, Crack, Smut
Prompt: "All the world’s a stage, And all the men and women merely players: They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts." --As You Like It (Act II, Scene VII)
Word Count: 1,521
Summary: Captain Joker isn’t pleased with his captive.
Disclaimer: Full disclaimer here.
Note: Now this is my first full blown AU fic and the premises of the world goes back to my other fic Magnolia. It is not necessary to read that in order to understand this but comments would be appreciated :D Anyways the basis of this AU is that Joker is a pirate and Bruce obviously is not- he’s an officer. In the little history I gave for them in Magnolia, Joker was captive and Bruce was the captor now it seems the tables have turned…

Joker felt himself grow restless as he ascended the deck. The men were working hard and doing what they were supposed to do as it should be on his ship. What he didn’t like was that everyone seemed to be whispering and gossiping. He had never heard his crew members be like this before and it bothered him immensely to hear them like this. It was odd and nerve-racking to see them talking one second and then shutting up the next. He didn’t like it.

He sighed and walked back to quarters feeling the need to be alone rising fast. He didn’t want to be with these people for a while. There were once times when he would yell at them and eavesdrop to find out but now he just wasn’t that interested. He had more pressing matters at the moment that needed resolving. Such as the solution of what the heck he was going to do with that man downstairs. The little sailor that obviously wasn’t what he seemed.

The guy was… just different in a way. He seemed to know something and he wanted to know what it was. The way those pretty eyes looked at him whenever he moved and seemed to totally amused with his actions of trying to engage him in conversation. Of course he knew that the man was hard to talk to but still, he didn’t need to be so patronizing in his serious manner. It was as if he knew his attitude was bothering him to no end and he was enjoying every second of it. Now, fair was fair the man was indeed observant but it was almost as if he knew exactly which buttons to push to get a rise from him.

Any sort of rise that usually ended up with blowjobs and angry fucks. The man was insatiable. It was if the sex slave had suddenly turned to master and decided when he wanted sex and when he didn’t. These days Bruce wanted sex all the time… it was if he was making up for lost time or just trying to get the most out of him and-

That damn little fucker was manipulating him. He glared at the oil lantern dangling before him. He was one of those schemers who was intent on keeping him tied to a certain place. He wanted to keep him or something and-

Joker stood up and strode out of the door and walked deeper into Gotham towards the brig. He had allowed the prisoner to remain unguarded and unchained since the last time he had come down and now he was sitting on the ship’s floors playing with a deck of cards. The request had come as a bit off to him- he didn’t peg the man as a player of cards. But apparently he was and he was very good. He lifted the keys off the rack and opened the gate to move in to see him. He sat down before him and eyed the game curiously. Another round of solitaire it seemed.

He sat there until Bruce finally decided to look up at him with a quirk of the brow, “Yes?”

“Nothing…” Joker replied innocently. “Just watching.”

He really wasn’t in the mood today and the man wasn’t going to force him to fuck him. if he wanted a fuck, he’d have to top this time- he was tired. Apparently as if the damn sailor could read minds, the prisoner crawled over to him, disregarding how he was all over the cards, ruining his game. The sailor laid his head in the lap before him, waiting. Joker growled in warning as he looked away. Bruce, however was having none of that.

He reached up and yanked the man down into a fierce kiss that was all teeth and anger for being ignored. Joker let out a small squeak in surprise. He knew Bruce could be forceful when he wanted to be- often exerting his physical strength to help him in their wild fucking- but this was a whole new side he didn’t know. He could feel rough hands exploring, taking and demanding as his mouth was devoured. He let out a noise of approval as the man pushed him up against the cage.

Now this was more like it… He liked a little fight in them. More than that- he loved it.

‡

Joker reached out to twirl his fingers in the chest hair on his prisoner’s chest. He felt so tired and satisfied. Bruce had been rough, hard, and demanding. He had screamed once or twice- really was he one to keep count?- and that had gotten a few of his henchmen to come down. However once they saw their captain was in no immediate danger they ran back up to the deck as fast they could.

It was amusing to lay here like this and feel those strong arms encase his entire body. There was just something about it that felt almost… comforting? Nah, that wasn’t the word for it. It had to be something else. But what?... Oh wells, it didn’t matter much. He had to get back up on deck and-

“Where are you going?”

Joker looked back at Bruce raising a brow at him. He was questioning him on his ship? What th- did he have to give the man another talk about the rules of his ship… well there were no rules. But- oh fuck whatever-

“I’m going to bed,” Joker replied evenly.

“Mind if I join you?”

“Quite on the contrary, I’d love it.” Joker grinned. “Only problem is how do I know that you won’t jump ship and leave little ol’ me all alooonnne?”

“I won’t.”

“Liar, liar, liaaaarrrr. Don’t make promises you can’t keeeep Brucey.”

Joker stood up, and stretched, noticing how those eyes looked him over hungrily. He grinned as he bent over to reach for his trousers only to have a pair of hands grab him and press up him against the wall, turning him around to kiss him. He laughed. This certainly was interesting…

‡

Joker would only allow Gotham to come in shore when he needed supplies and right now he needed them. He had sent a boat full of useless vermin off to get what they needed and come back as soon as possible. He had expected them back before dawn’s first rays. He had expected them to full of gunpowder and kegs of beer. He expected them to be drunk and carrying some girl they had managed to steal. What he didn’t expect was to find a man with a mangled face, flipping a gold coin in his boat.

But apparently he had willingly come along to join his crew of evildoers. Joker looked him up and down and then sent him off to the brig. He didn’t care much for new recruits. He’d shove him off in the middle of the sea the first chance he got. Right now he had things to take care of. Other things that needed attending and destroying.

He was sure the fleet of King Gordon would be on their way soon and he was intent on having fun with them. He still hadn’t figured out if his little prisoner belonged to them or not but he didn’t care. He was here now and that’s what mattered. And even if he had been part of that world, he should know by now that he wasn’t anymore. Especially after their numerous sessions down in the brig. There was no way in hell the man would even think of going back. He wouldn’t allow it.

The man was his now and even if he was suspicious with the way he acted. He was going to figure him out, get a real genuine laugh, and then kill him. That’s what he always did. First he’d have his fun then he’d dispose of him just like with all the rest. Bruce would be no exception no matter how good he fucked.

‡

Harvey Dent knew all about Joker. He was a man with no plan, no sanity, and no rules. After watching how his wife and children had died in a fire, he had been his first real option to escape. So, things didn’t go out as well as he had planned. At least he was out of there. Gordon was sure to be after him to try to comfort him and all that lying bullshit. He didn’t care for any of it. He wanted to be away and be where no one would recognize who he was… or rather who he had been. After all, no would be able to see him if half his face was burned off.

He had wanted to run away from his past. He hadn’t expected to catch up with it- of all places- on the Gotham. He sat across from the cage, an amused smirk playing on his lips as the prisoner snored on. Well, well, well if it wasn't him... Hadn’t he been up with the court fucking Gordon? That’s what everyone else had been saying. He chuckled darkly, flipping his coin as he watched him with his good eye.

“…Bruce Wayne… fancy that.”

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* literally translated from Spanish to English is "undoing, ruin of someone"

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Oneshot: Something About Us

Sat, 09 May 2009 02:06:51 GMT

Title: Something About Us
Author: DayDreamer64/MadWanderer
Fandom: DCverse/Nolanverse
Pairing: Batman/Joker
Genre: Smut
Rating: hard R
Prompt: All the world’s a stage, And all the men and women merely players: They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts. --As You Like It (Act II, Scene VII)
Word Count: 2,121
Summary: Joker knows this is different. But he didn’t expect it to be this different.
Disclaimer: Full disclaimer here.
Note: Huh.. it was supposed to be PWP but then something happened that made me change it up a bit.

Joker’s been watching him for far too long to not know who or how he is. That disguise doesn’t fool him. It never did. Sometimes he’d like it until he grew angry with him for trying to change himself and hide whom he was. But Bats couldn’t do that well enough. Neither of them could. They couldn’t change who they were or become someone else so easily- it was much too hard to conceal their true personalities.

Oh he had been able to remove the makeup and cover the scars back when he had tried to kill the little mayor. He had even dressed up in a nurse’s outfit once when he visited Harvey. He had taken up a different sort of role then and it had certainly been fun. After all he never knew what freedom he could feel between his legs by wearing a skirt. There were many times he had acted the part of the masses that infested his city. He had done that sort of stuff plenty of times but changing who he was? Never.

So when he saw the dark knight dress up in something other than his bat suit he hated it and loved it at the same time. Joker was almost sure that Bats had never worn a costume like that for anyone but him but then again… he was hiding his identity. His true nature of being a bat freak flying about Gotham. And he didn’t like that…not one… bit.

That’s why he was absolutely seething when the brooding man came to him with those dark glasses and that fake mustache. He growled in warning when the familiar mouth sucked on the back of his neck leaving a huge mark, traces of teeth causing shivers to rain down his back. He arched into the touch when those teeth sank into skin- he could feel the blood trail down slowly, unheeded.

“Get-…that-…that idiotic costume off.” Joker growled, panting slightly. “Now.”

He could feel the smirk against his skin as hands trailed over his body. “You sure you want me to do that?”

Joker stood his ground and shifted his arms lifted over his head, caught in a tight fist above him. He looks over his shoulder at the man he knows to be his and is now someone different. He glared.

“Take it off.”

The dark knight looked at him leaning in close, “Impatient today are we?”

“Shut up. You know exactly why I’m saying it.” Joker was slowly beginning to feel the strands of anger spinning closely together.

Bats was grinning again, using his free hand to fondle the body held captive before him, loving the curves and pinching as he nipped at the skin on the back exposed to him. Joker had most of his lower clothes on but his shirt had been lost somewhere amidst the chaos that ensued once the other man had walked in and flew at him. He regarded the sudden attack from behind as an unfair advantage as he had been busy trying to prepare for his lover. Had he seen the way the man was dressed he would have fought back and not allowed him back until he was changed.

The thing is, Joker didn’t like seeing the large bat without his suit on- he felt too… real and human. They certainly were anything but human. He didn’t need reminding of how as deities they had been confined to such weak vessels. Seeing the man in ordinary clothes disturbed him because it reminded him of just how vulnerable Batman really was. He didn’t want to know that during the day his lover could be killed out on the street and he would never even realize it. He didn’t like the idea at all and so he would block that out of his head no matter how much it took out of him.

Joker didn’t like the idea of fearing for the well being of the dark knight but if he didn’t want him to worry then he should wear his suit. He was comfortable with it and-

-…those hands always knew how to stop him from thinking. They were large, strong calloused hands. And the body pressed up behind him- when had Joker stopped to notice how easier it was to feel the man’s body in simple clothing? The suit always got in the way but plain clothing like this? Ohh it felt glorious. And was that…?

Well since he was wearing a detective disguise…-

Joker looked over at him, mischief clearly dancing in his eyes, “is that a gun in your pocket? Or you happy to see me?” *

That got the dark knight to look up at him in mild amusement. He just grinned back and raised a brow coyly at him, “Take off that silly costume and I’ll let you put your gun to good use.”

“I thought you didn’t want it.”

Joker’s smirk turned into a scowl, “I do, I just don’t like your choice in clothing. Honestly of all things you decided to pick it had to be that. And what’s worse you came here in it!”

“It’s not like as if anyone followed me.”

“You could be wrong there.” Joker growled. “Anyone could have followed a clean man like you here in the Narrows. You don’t get it do you? The way you look tonight would make you a perfect target for any mugger ‘round here.”

“Oh shut up.”

Bats was obviously rolling his eyes behind those glasses but Joker never got to really see them because in the next second, the man had forced him to turn back around again to face the old fading wallpaper of the run down motel. He jumped slightly at the feel of cloth trail over his back. He watched as the man let go of his hands and waited for the moment when the cloth would come up to bind his wrist together- they had done this a couple of times already. Only it didn’t come.

Instead the cloth came up to cover his eyes. He tensed, feeling the fold over his eyes and felt a tug on his arm. A hand pushed him down and he went willingly, sinking into the bed, bending to the other man’s will. This… was new.

He could hear the rustle of clothing as he sat on the bed before the dark knight. He was undressing. Somehow the thought of the man before him stripping and lightly touching himself if those sighs were anything to go by made him oddly jealous. He wanted to see. He needed see. He couldn’t stand to be like this for the entire time that this happened. He inched a couple of fingers into the cloth and was surprised to feel a hand slap over his, stilling his actions. He growled in warning as he looked up at the place where he imagined the man’s face to be.

A deep chuckle was granted to him in return. Soon he felt hands pushing at his pants, easing them away. The socks stayed on. Somewhere along the way of their uneasy relationship the other man had grown to love the feel of his socks wrapped around his waist, scratching at him and feeling him up. Joker had always left his socks on no matter where he was. It was part of him.

Bats was pushing him backwards into the mattress, pressing kisses over his chest. He wanted to see. He needed to know he was still there and wouldn’t leave..He reached down and curled his fingers into the dark hair. He yanked hard on them when a hot mouth covered his nipple. He moaned at the bite and flicking of tongue. Bats still knew how to please him. Somehow Joker was sure he had always known.

The weight that had been comfortably settled on his chest was suddenly lifted. Something about this was different… Joker could feel something twist inside his stomach as those fingers moved under his back and pressed him upwards into the strong chest he knew so well. This was… gentle. Much too gentle. And… it didn’t sit right with him. It felt too intimate and close and-

More bites and scratches now. He sighed in relief. Yes, this was something familiar… He wrapped his legs comfortably about the waist he had grown so accustomed to. He could feel their erections bumping and rubbing against one another. He didn’t want that. He wanted-

Slicked cool fingers reached behind him, pressing inside of him quickly. He groaned at the sudden painful intrusion of the fingers. This is what he needed. Pain. Something close to what they usually had. Images of alleys and quick fucks into a motel bed without disposal of the suit flashed before him and suddenly it occurred to him that this was the first time they had ever properly had sex… no this was… no, no, no it wasn’t that. It could never be that.

His hips were lifted up and he was entered roughly pulling out a throaty moan from his mouth. Rough thrusts began without permission of his internal muscles. He screamed as the pain flowed through him. Just the right spot, just the right angle, just the right position. Those strong hands held his hips and helped him in lifting off- smacks of hips moving together and meeting resounded about the room. It was fucking glorious. It was all he could hear and he could imagine it. Clearly in his head now.

His soul mate watching him beneath hooded eyelids, aroused and determined to bring him to the edge as he pumped him and fucked him expertly. He could see the angle of his arms as he pushed off them in an effort to help. He could feel his balls tightening and his stomach tensing as he stopped moving along with his partner, throwing his head back and letting out a howl as he came. He was in a state of total disorder and mayhem as his mind left him and flew from the room, reaching the sky. He felt himself falling now. The stars he was told he would land on soon fell away as he began to reel back to earth. Oh fuck.

But the Bat was still moving his hips, growing erratic as he searched for his own release. Joker let out small whimpers, feeling his own euphoria begin to dim. Soon the man below him was coming as well. Stopping in mid-thrust as he poured himself inside of him. He groaned and leaned into the strong arms before him. He bit at the skin, listening intently to the sound going on around him. It was so little and so much at the same time. He could hear the heartbeat of the man beside him, beating to the same rhythm as his own. He could hear the uneasy breathing of the man.

Sounds from outside the motel were beginning to seep in as well. There were sirens and shouts and shots. But for once the Batman was ignoring them and enjoying this small rip in time. He was here, with him. He hadn’t left. He still couldn’t see him. He wanted to see him… but did he really? Joker frowned slightly, if he did see him then that would mean he’d finally know… Did he want to know at all about the man he had grown so accustomed to bedding with? Or did he never want to know?

He could feel the man shifting before him, moving out of his body and pushing them back into the bed. The sounds of bed sheets shifting filled the room. He could use his hear as a way to know. But I wasn’t… enough.

“Joker…Take it off.”

He stared from behind the cloth and frowned. The.. Bat was asking him… to take the blindfold off? But, didn’t he know that-?

“Just do it.”

There was that familiar growl again. The voice he used when they were performing for the city. He could tell that he was serious. Then again he was always serious and he always tried to get him to-

Hands reached up to pull at the cloth impatiently. He shut his eyes, trying to calm his breathing. This… there was something wrong about this picture. He… this wasn’t supposed to be happening! They were enemies and-

“Joker. Open them.”

He took a deep breath and slowly allowed his eyes to flutter open. He stared. This… this was his face. He reached a hand up to trace his fingers over the skin. So… so smooth. Was this the first time he had touched it properly as well? So… so beautiful. It was.. different and-

“Bruce… Wayne.”

* Quote by Mae West

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Ficlet: Faithfully I trace your name

Tue, 05 May 2009 01:55:34 GMT

Title: Faithfully I trace your name
Fandom: Original (Helpless-verse)
Author: DayDreamer64/MadWander
Pairing: Tristan/Alexander
Genre: Smut~
Rating: R for wanking
Word Count: 554
Summary: Tristan walks into Alex's room and finds a surprise waiting for him.
Note: Written for the mmom since I'm bored.

( I'm still holding out for you )

Link takes you to my Fictionpress account

Ficlet: Idée fixe

Sat, 02 May 2009 03:01:10 GMT

Title: Idée fixe
Fandom The Dark Knight/ Nolan verse
Author: DayDreamer64/MadWander
Pairing: Batman/Joker
Genre(s): Smut..ish
Prompt: All the world’s a stage, And all the men and women merely players: They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts.
Word Count 518
Summary: When Joker watches them, he thinks of him
Warning(s): Wanking.
Disclaimer: Full disclaimer here.
Note: Takes place during the missing year after the end of Infinite Crisis- a year without Superman, Batman or any of the other Superheroes everyone knew. For mmom ;D & batmanjoker

Joker watches them. He likes to be an observer sometimes. Oh he'd much rather be the show but sometimes he just wants to sit back and watch how others try to blind themselves with their reality that is merely fantasy. The carefully weaved lies are just so...amusing to watch.

They think they're safe...they're not.

Because their precious little crusader isn't there to save them. Oh no, oh no oh noooo. He's off somewhere that they don't even know. All these villains have risen once more and he's trying to find himself. Because he's cracked! Like a doll!

Batsy's gone. But he'll come back. He'll be a fixed doll then. And he'll be a fixed clown. Right now he's nothing without him. He's... just a brilliant crazy clown running around doing... nothing. He had nothing to do. No one to really entertain himself with. The humans he had come to love to mess with had just...moved on? No, that wasn't the word.

Joker bit his tongue trying to think of the correct word for it. No, they hadn't moved on. They had just become so dull and lukewarm- the fire that had once ran through the veins of Gotham was now turning to ice. So cold. So very cold. And so very boring.

Feeling his thoughts wander away from the decaying city he fixed himself on the thought of his dark knight. Ah yesss that man really was a true freak. A man with some serious problems. Honestly who leaves Gotham in a state like this after promising all those lies to them of justice, honor and blah blah blah blah.

But that wasn't what he was thinking of. He was thinking of those arms coming down on him in fierce punches and blows to his heads (always the head, he never really learned to start anywhere else). Shivers ran up and down his spine at the thought. He hadn't really gone completely sane. Joker still had his kinks and his obsessions and... his real mind.

A hand had unknowingly sneaked down to his crotch and began rubbing slow sensual circles over the bulge there. He looked down in mild surprise at the new journey his hand was taking. Well... it had been a while... His carved grin grew larger as his hand delved into his pants.

The hand was an expert at pleasure. Years of isolation and sexual needs had helped in this little feat of his. His hands were needed to him in every aspect of his character. While one hand did one thing (spit slicked and running languidly up and down twisting at the tip at just the right angel and ooohhhhh feels so good) the other hand... did something else (his right hand went up to travel between his unkempt curls, moving to the back of the neck before trailing softly down over his collar).

Soon he'd be near. And the only image in his mind. There was only one. The target of his obsession. the one that had left Gotham for a total of thirty-one weeks now. Only him.

"The Batman."

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