The King and The Quinn
To some, he's the Clown Prince of Crime, but to me, he is my king. His bleached skin matched to mine so translucent under the tattoos, the green, flashy eyes, so huge they could eat your whole soul out in a blink of an eye!
I know it's strange for others… You look at us and all you see is an abusive relationship. You're probably thinking "she's mad, what's wrong with her?" - Oh well, what's wrong with me is the same that's wrong with him. After all, his madness is mine and my madness is his he's my madness.
I am his and he is mine. And not even Batman can get between us.
It was a nice, stormy night, and by "nice" I mean your usual cold, dark, blood-stained sky stormy night. He was sitting on his throne and I was by his side, loyal, submissive, quietly watching him sketch his deathcraft in a huge piece of paper. - Oh, what a joker my Puddin is! -. I lean over to better observe his art. The lines are forming the image of granades and flowers, all put together. He calls me out:
-…Harley? - His voice is heavy like a thunderstorm, indulgent in his deadly, bright-green-eyed stare, one eyebrow raised. I look to him, confused. - What do you think you're doing?
- N-nothing, Mr. J… – I turned my eyes from his, lowering ny head. – It's just that I wanted to see what my sweet Puddin is working on. – Maybe if I were sweet enough, his temper could be controlled.
- Oh, Harley… – He laughed. – Sweet, innocent Harley. Daddy's got work to do, and he can't work if you keep shadowing the paper – His eyes, for a strange reason, shined as they rolled towards me. - You don't want your "Mistah J" to ruin all his sketches, do you, my little sweetheart? – The threat as subtle as the Joker could ever be, devouring every inch of my soul with fear, yet excitement. But I knew just what to answer.
- N-no, Mr. J. – I looked away, almost coming down from the table. That's when curiosity spoke louder to me. -… It's just that I found the idea of the flowers so beautiful… Will you send them to B-man? – He laughed, psychotically, the way only my Pudding knows to do. His laughter, may I say, is the most beautiful melody one could ever hear… A true piece of mad art, I just adore to see him filled with joy.
- To Batsy? – He laughed again, the high pitched screams filling the room, as he stood up and looked into the window. – Oh, Harley, you're full of great jokes. – He suddenly turned to me. – I love a great joke, you know? – He slowly caressed my cheek, making me shiver inside. Was it fear? Was it passion? What's the difference after all? He turned to the paper. – What day is it, my dear?
- February… 10th? – He giggled.
- Yes, Harley… February 10th. What happens in 4 days, dear? – He looked to me. What should I answer? Should I risk giving in to my instincts? Should I pretend I didn't understand him? Should I just play along?
- Valentines day…? – Yes. Playtime. – You're gonna give B-man a valentine gift? - I could see his veins pumping under the translucent skin, his eyebrows weighting over his angry eyes. Mr. J's might be The Joker, but I know how to joke too.
-… No, Harley… – His eyes burned in green flames as our eyes met, and he knew the game had started. – This… This is for you, you silly. – He giggled as he pulled me to his lap. – You see. – He pointed to the sketch. – This is the bouquet, and inside there are little grenades. So we go to a public space, any place you wish, full of those little lovey-doveys, and I give it to you. So you pick up the flowers to smell em, and pull up the valv-
- And then I throw the bouquet really far and we run away as it all goes BOOM! – I couldn't hide my excitement. How could I? It's the BEST. GIFT. EVER! We laughed together as I layed back on his chest. We stood there, laughing it off for a few minutes, until he looked into my eyes.
- You always make me laugh, Harley. – He gave off a last giggle. In a normal world, this would probably mean we're just loonies, but in our world, this was his way of saying "I love you". And I loved him too.
In a matter of 5 seconds, his hands, wide open, were strangling my neck, as our lips passionately touched in a share of madness. I was his, and he was mine.
He devoured my soul through my thongue, as grip took away all air from me. I didn't need air to live… All I needed was my Puddin, and he was the life now inside of me. Suddenly, he was on top of me, pinning me down to the table, laying me on top of the sketches. His strong grip on my wrists, those cold, long fingers wrapped around em like ropes. I could feel him devouring me, his clownish smile sharing our madness in a kiss. I rolled over him, desperate for his touch. The wooden table was cold and hard, but I didn't care. I wanted him inside me…I needed him inside me.
He started touching me, his slender fingers running to my breasts, grabbing them with all his strength as the pain rushed through my body, giving me life. Giving me him. My lips reached for his neck, when I heard a funny moan escaping his mouth:
- Does that feel good, Mr. J? – I smiled.
- Oh, Harley, yes… – He giggled. – Yes, it does… But do you know what feels better? – He looked at me with malice.
- What, Mr. J?
- THIS. – He turned tables as he slapped my face and pushed me to the floor, only to pull my legs, wide open, towards him.
He quickly took of his shirt as he pulled off mine, his eyes feasting on my body like a lion's on its prey. I reached for his face, pulling him towards me. I needed him, I needed him – GOD! How I NEEDED him! -. I couldn't control myself any longer: I reached for his pants as his heart beat faster with every single stroke of my fingertips.
He took off his pants as he spread his legs, kneeling on top of my chest. He pulled my hair and forced my mouth onto him. My eyes wet and teary, as he choked me with every thrust of his body. And I loved every single second of it. "Oh, Harley…", he moaned, as he took my shorts off. "Mr. J…", I replied.
He pulled back my head, his sharp teeth carving down my neck. Reaching for his pants on the floor, he pulled out a knife of his pocket:
- Do you wanna play a game, Harley? – His shiny eyes stared into mine, as he caressed my cheek with the blade.
- W-what game, Mr. J? – I was terrified. And loved it. That sense of unpredictability, wilderness, the freedom only he could give me…I loved it.
- It's a very fun game, you see… – His wicked smile sent shivers down my spine. – I will touch you. If you move your body, I will cut you. If not, I won't. - I smiled back.
- Bring it. – I bit his lip in a kiss, as he slowly slid the knife over my body. I was shaking, trembling inside and outside. He smiled as his left hand crawled between my legs. He touched me as I moaned, almost giving in to my instinct of moving.
- Don't move… – His voice, so deep, warned me. – You don't want Daddy to hurt you, do you? – He looked to me. – Or do you?
The knife started to shake as he laughed, and I forced myself not to move. It wouldn't be fun if I gave in easily, would it? His fingers gently teased me as I accidentally moved my legs. Suddenly, I felt the blade sliding unto my skin. It burned so sweet, I couldn't help but to bite my lips in na useless attempt not to smile.
- Oh, you like pain, don't you, Harley? – He maliciously whispered into my ear. – I enjoy hurting you too. – He moved the blade towards my breasts, carving my skin in the words "Joker was here". – Life is no fun without a little pain, isn't it, Harley? – He laughed.
Gosh, how beautiful he is! The lunacy in his eyes gives him life, give that shine. Sweet, sweet shine…
He didn't wait any longer, thrusting his fingers inside of me. I couldn't hold it back anymore. My moan filled the dark, cold room, as my body shaked in spasms.
- Enough with the games. – I pulled his face towards my kiss. – I need you. Please. PLEASE! – My nearly psychotic scream echoed. I needed him, I needed him, I needed him… He was my ultimate obsession. And I needed him. He hit my left cheek as he put the blade to my neck, laughing in his insanity.
- Oh, you really don't wanna piss me, little girl… - He giggled, his eyes burning like cold, green flames from hell. - You just don't know how to joke! - He started to cut my cheek.
- Puddin! Wait! Please…- I was shivering inside - Please don't kill me. - His psychotic laughter filled the room once again.
- Harley…My sweet, innocent Harley… What makes you think I'd do such a thing? - For a second, a stroke of hope hit my heart. - I'm not gonna kill ya… - He slid the blade through my skin. - I'm just gonna hurt ya…Really, really…bad.
He smiled, his eyes shining with the joy of seeing me cry. My hot tears slowly ran down my scarred cheek, as he kissed the fresh, superficial cut. I wanted to run, but I wanted to stay. I needed him. I loved him. Even with his madness, I adored everything he said and did.
He suddenly cut off my underwear, pulling me by my hair, forcing my face to the table.
- Puddin, don't! - Turning me around and laying me on the desk, he gagged me before I could scream. Finally thrusting into my body. I could feel my insides burning as I tried to beg him to stop. I cried and I cried while he choked me, and happiness invaded my heart as I saw his beautiful, twisted smile on his stained, red lips. All I ever wanted was to make my Puddin happy, and I had accomplished it so far.
It us a few minutes of kisses and fists before he reached his edge. He pulled my hair back, scratching my back. (The scrathes still burn, in fact). We layed there, on top of the desk, for a few minutes, hearing the thunders striking the sky.
- I love you, Mr. J… - I said, as I kissed his cheek.
- I love you too, Harley… - He smiled.