Hey guys! I'm so excited to start writing this I have big plans for this in the future! I'm going to put a summary here for mobile version users, because I know myself I go through and open tabs of stories I want to read and when I get to them I forget what the stories about. Also just a warning I probably will be switching between third and first person.

Disclaimer: The only thing I own is my OC (her name will be revealed later)

RATED M BECAUSE ITS JOKER (duh) and things are going to be pretty vulgar and graphic and sexual innuendos and sexual themes and maybe possibly eventually sex scenes. I'm digging deep with this one guys.

Reviews fuel my writing!

Summary: What if...What if there was someone out there who was just as insane as The Joker? Someone who laughed at the stinging pain left from a knife and moaned at the thought of the light leaving someones eyes. Someone who killed as if it was just picking flowers and thought it was beautiful as a boquet. Someone who plans everything out to the smallest crucial detail yet never rolls with a plan. Someone who had meant The Jokers match and just so happened to find him. Joker/OC

Chapter Warnings: contains nudity, self harm, mentions of self harm, mentions of eating disorders, mentions of abuse, mentions of rape, mentions of murder, suicide, and finally mental illness.

Again one more warning: As the first chapter this starts out the story pretty crazy and gets pretty disturbing. Just a caution.

She stared into the cracked mirror in front of her with her grey bloodshot and empty eyes staring back at her. The dingy florescent lighting that hung in the old cracked tile bathroom made her pale skin seem an unhealthy grey color as it flickered trying to stay alive and lit. She let a small giggle pass through her lips as her eyes glanced to the light for a second. That's all everything seemed to be doing, even the inhuman objects were trying to stay alive. She let another giggle out at the thought. Looking at her reflection her eyes wandered around the image, black hair that could rival a starless sky, that would look beautiful if it hung around her in clean fresh curls but instead it hung in greasy strands and clumps of knots to her elbows. Her eyes were naturally doe like, if she were normal they'd almost be thought to be doll's eyes with how big and innocent they could be, but she was anything but normal or innocent. They were staring wide and always moving, quick little glances, darting everywhere, and never stayed in the same spot at once. Her eyes held a strange glint and a permanent glaze to them that was rather hard to decipher, it was dangerous yes that was easy to tell but what sort of danger was the hard part. A danger to herself or to others; or perhaps both one couldn't tell no matter how hard they stared into her eyes. Her eyes held the illusion of being sunk into her skull, the bags and dark circles under her eyes looked as if she had intentionally put them where with a precision brush and eyeshadow.

Under her eyes where her soft cheekbones that would just added to her sweet and innocent facade, but it looked rather disturbing with them hollowed out and as she stared on with her uneasy chaotic eyes and her lips twitching up every once in awhile. In the center of her heart shaped face sat a small pixie nose with a scar on her left nostril, left by from when she yanked her nose ring out due to a long stretch of boredom. Her right nostril however held a small silver hoop that had yet to be pulled out. Her lips were thin, dry and cracked, dried blood sat in some of the worse splits but yet they kept their pale pink hue. Her eyes glanced to her lips and she pulled part of her bottom one in between her teeth biting and chewing quite roughly, a rather bad habit that she'd always had. With a quick rip part of the dry and chapped skin of her lip split once again and blood slowly pooled out of the small injury. Her eyes brightened at the sight and her lips pulled up into a wide, deranged smile tugging at the splits edges more causing the pretty crimson to leak out and dribble slightly down her lip. She let slip a third high pitched giggle as she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth again chewing in different spots and pushing the red droplets farther down her lip.

Her eyes glanced briefly at her neck, it was pale and slender like the rest of her body, but only if you looked closer would you see the surprise; small and sometimes jagged pale smooth lines were scattered in random areas of her neck that floated down around her collar bones that were easily visible as they jutted out her pale scarred skin stretching across them. There was a long thick scar that started just behind her left ear and stretched in wild jagged lines like a lightening bolt down her neck and ended just above the small barely there swell of her right breast. Her upper chest(that being the space above her breasts but below her neck) seemed to hold the most visible scarring at a first glance, her long left sided scar seemed to clash a silver color against her pale skin and it was rather smooth as she trailed one slender pointer finger down it's path.

Whoever had stitched it up had known what they were doing. An actual laugh bubbled up from her throat at the thought of it. It sounded hoarse and scratchy but you could definitely tell it was feminine by the pitch there was no fighting that. Her giggles could be described as light and airy bell tinkles except it had a breathy maniac twinge to it and her laughs would be rich and sultry even except that hoarse scratchiness made it somehow frightfully insane and rightfully so. Her finger ran back up the path of a scar grinning widely as more blood pooled and dribbled from splits in her lip. One had to know what they were doing if they were studying to be a trauma surgeon after all. As her finger trailed down the scar once more and ended at her breast she frowned for a second. Her breasts were small, as to accompany her small petite body, she stood at about 5'3 with thin arms and legs. She was probably an A cup if she had to guess, but she wouldn't know she didn't wear bras, they were uncomfortable and she didn't have much of a reason to wear one.

She was rather under developed for a 25 year old, when she was 18 people always assumed she was much younger, 15 was the normal age they'd place her at. Now people tended to place her age at around 21 or so if they had to guess. Her skin wasn't flawless no it was filled with dark spots and moles on her arms and freckles that lightly dusted her face. Small bumps littered her arms and her face along with a couple acne scars on her chin. Her skin was a pale color yes, it was the kind of skin tone that you'd expect to see on a flawless person but she was filled with flaws both visible and unseen.

As her finger fell from her scar and trailed down the side of her breast and past her stomach to drop at her sides she watched as her skin bubbled into goosebumps where her finger had been causing her nipple to perk and harden. Her eyes trailed past the perked flesh that matched her lips in color to her ribs that showed so perfectly through her skin you could count 4 of them on either side. The right side of her ribs were colored a yellowy green and blue color, faded bruises splotched along her side and as her eyes swept to the left side there were fresh ugly bruises were starting to form over old faded and healing ones. Her eyes glanced back up to her upper chest as she reached out and grabbed the stained rag from the sink to her left and rubbed across it. The pain was where, the flesh was still tender, but she didn't flinch as she rubbed the wet rag across her upper chest and pulled it away to reveal more splotchy yellow and green healing bruises. The rag was stained a creamy peach color as she set it back in the sink deciding not to rub off the rest of the makeup that covered her body. Along with the healing bruises more small little silver pale scars were revealed and her eyes once again traveled to her big scar. She had originally started with taking the makeup off her face and she had worked her way down to her neck but she stopped mid way not seeing the point of it much anymore.

They'd be here soon anyways.

So she kept observing herself. She had always been thin, she assumed it was natural maybe something from her mother but she wouldn't know about that, after an incident shortly after she was born her mother was sent away to a "mental hospital" they had called it. A "mental rehabilitation center" where society's name for it when in all honesty her mother had been put in an asylum. The loony bin. The crazy box. A psych ward. The nut house. She briefly wondered what it'd be like in an asylum, on the outside they made it seem like everything was clean and pristine, everything was top notch and no one was treated bad. But she had assumed it was all lies and that it was dirty, the food moved on it's own, and you were left in horrible rotting conditions to rot away yourself. Her eyes glanced at the full body mirror in front of her and her gaze moved to the spot right beside her head to see the reflection of the door.

She'd know soon enough.

She also wondered what it was like in the infamous Arkham Asylum. It was perceived in many ways, some it was clean and pristine but creepy looking, others it was filthy and horrible and still creepy looking. Her eyes glazed over in wonder of who her doctor would be, would it be Dr. Crane the Scarecrow himself? She smiled big at the idea a drop of blood having collected from her constant lip chewing dropped onto her chin and finally off her lip. Her and Scarecrow oh boy oh boy oh boy they could have some fun. Another deranged little giggle escaped her bloodied lips as she thought of her days in Arkham. Maybe she'd get Dr. Harleen Quinzel, the one to fall in love with The Joker. Was she even still a doctor there? Or was she a patient? She didn't know, but the fact that she could possibly meet the infamous joker that loved causing chaos for poor little batty make her grin stretch even farther. Her smile dropped off her face and she blinked the haze that had accompanied her little fantasy cleared when one small little detail came into play.

It was all fiction.

The world of fiction she loved so much she could get lost in; her favorite comics, her favorite books, her favorite movies, the city of Marvel New York and her favorite anti-hero Deadpool, the city of Gotham that she seemed to love oh so much that held if not one of her favorite villains The Joker.

Was all fic fic fic fiction.

Shed never get to have the chance of being a patient of Dr. Crane or Harley Quinn or even Dr. Arkham himself, she'd never have the chance to meet The Joker and gave her own fun with him, she'd never get to whisper Batman's true name into his ears and watch his eyes light up with glee. And you know why?

"Because it's all fiction." She sneered looking at herself in the mirror. Her actual voice was strange to see on someone like her. Her voice was deeper than most girls voices but you could still definitely tell that it was feminine, it was sultry like her laugh but the hoarseness in her throat was still there in every sound that came out of her mouth. Her sneer was a few pitches higher than her normal voice and she said it with so much disdain, she'd probably murder the word if she could. Her deadly eyes, thoughts, and tone suddenly melted away at that thought and a smile broke out on her lips.

Ah murder.

It was her favorite word after all.

Her eyes regained focus as she stared at herself again, she wasn't finished scrutinizing her body. Her eyes passed to her stomach and where under various coats of make up where more small little scars and faded bruises. It was flat and seemed flawless but she knew better, under the make up she knew what scars littered her stomach, Especially the ones she had stitched together with such precision she took them out and completely redid them because they weren't perfect to her. She looked at her hips and knew that resting between them would be one large surgical scar and that on her right hip would be one long, ugly, and bumpy scar; the complete opposite to the one on the left side of her neck. She stared down at her thighs, between the makeup was more scars, scars that she had oh so carefully carved into her thighs herself. As her gaze lowered down her legs the make up started to fade away. She didn't need to apply it there so why bother? As the make up skin faded into normal skin shapes and blotches could start to be made out on her calfs and shins. Tattoos decorated her legs and arms but was only ever really seen by herself, her arms were completely covered in makeup. She stared at her arms in the mirror and she could see the tiny scars that went up from her neck, around and down her shoulders to her wrist. She could see the many vertical and horizontal scars that ran thick and bumpy,thin to smooth, thick to smooth, and thin to bumpy underneath her make up like it wasn't even there. She could see the various tattoo's that graced her thin arms and smiled softly for just a moment at them.

Done staring at her thin naked body she sighed and looked around the small bathroom she was in, it was a real shit hole honestly the entire apartment was. She glanced into the sink and she took note of the stained rag, the creamy peach color stained some parts of the rag along with a light pink and red stain from where she had washed the blood off her hands and face. she looked down on the floor and in a pile where her previous clothes; a pair of grey sweatpants, a pair of plain purple underwear, and a small green T-shirt and all of it was stained with dark red blood. She shuffled around the bathroom before stepping over the bloodied clothes and opening the door that led to the rest of the crappy apartment. She could hear the sirens coming closer in the distance and a wicked grin spread across her face.

"It's almost showtime." She chuckled to herself as she walked across the filthy and scratchy carpet. She made her way to the kitchen and once her bare foot set foot on the tile she looked down. Her foot stepped in a puddle of blood and she wiggled her toes in it giggling. It was still warm. She looked down at the body of the man who laid on the floor in a puddle of his own blood, his throat had been slit and he had been stabbed in the gut repeatedly. She smiled as she admired her work. That filthy man didn't deserve to live.

She remained silent as he threw her against the drywall. She stared up at him blankly as he stood towering over her, his face was contorted into an expression of rage and she wasn't going to ask why. It was normal of her father to be like this and she had accepted it ever since she tried to move out at the age of 19 and got a large shard of glass from his broken beer bottle suck in her shoulder blade.

"Only a body a father could love" He'd tell her as he beat her and kicked her multiple times.

"Yes Daddy." she'd always respond, crying the first 2 years it had started and after just a monotone response was recited robotically. Although if she said anything else or didn't reply her beatings were always worse and she'd end up with a concussion. And this time was no different. He'd come home from the bar drunk and angry as per usual and as soon as he saw her in the kitchen putting away groceries he was on her; pushed her shoulders roughly into the wall by the bathroom door, screaming and cursing at her his words slurring together she couldn't understand what he was calling her.

"YOU LIL' BITCH. WHYS YOUS LOOKIN AHH ME LIKE DAT? HUH? HUH LIL' SLUT?"

A punch to the ribs.

"HUH WHAHS THE MATTER SWEETHEART? YOU GOT DAT SAME LOOK ON YOUR FACE AS YOUR BAH SHI CRAZY MOTHER YA KNOW THAT KID?"

A slap to the face.

"I DUN LIKE IT!"

Another punch to the ribs.

"I'LL TEACH YOU NOT TO ACT LIKE YOUS MOM YOU LIL' SLUT!"

He reached to undo his belt.

This was also a normal thing that occurred though it was only on 'special' occasions. She looked to her left to the counter that held the large kitchen knife she had used to cut the plastic off some of the items.

It was just freshly sharpened.

She looked at the man in front of her as he drunkenly tried to undo his belt, button, and zipper on his jeans. She quickly leaned stretched her arm out grabbing the blades handle and placing it between the skin of her lower back and the waistband of her sweatpants. She watched as he grew angrier and angrier at the clothing and finally, he gave up.

"ARGHH. YOU. ON YOUR KNEES. AND GET THIS OFF. NOW." He yelled in her face, breath that smelled strongly of alcohol fanned over her face and flying strands of saliva landed on her face. She didn't move at first she just stood there for a couple seconds and he didn't like that. He kneed her in her stomach and as she curled inwards she bit the inside of her cheek to keep her face straight. He pushed her to the ground and she fell onto her side, before she had the chance to shift onto her knees the kicks came. The kicks came and the yelling came.

"HOW."

Kick.

"DARE."

Kick.

"YOU."

Another kick.

"DISOBEY."

Kick.

"ME."

Kick.

The knife in her waistband scraped her skin each kick. He pulled her up by her hair and her eyes watered at the pulling pain in her scalp. He dropped her on her knees and she reached up to undo his belt and unclasp the jean button and she stared at the bulge that had grown since she was beat.

This was it.

She unzipped the zipper and pulled his pants down a tad and stared straight, the waistband of his boxers stared back at her. I reached forward and pulled them down with his jeans. I watched as the ugly thing sprang out and twitched.

She would do it this time.

"Suck it." He grunted and she stared up at the man in front of her a sneer had made its way across her features.

He slapped her.

She grinned.

He froze.

It reminded him so much of the woman that was her mother, not his wife no. Just some crazy woman he had slept with and kept around because she was a good fuck and she made good food.

Her grin of hers wasn't a normal grin no, her chapped cracked lips were stretched wide over her teeth and her eyes held a crazed look.

"Yes Daddy, Because I have a mouth only a father would love." She started out sweetly but ended in a wicked sneer up at the man and fear flashed in his glossy drunk eyes. She noticed it and her grin stretched even farther up her cheeks.

"What's the matter Daddy? You looove my mouth don't you?" She asked looking up at the man. Her grin had now been traded for a pout. The man's eyes flashed uncertain while hers still held that crazed glint. The man above her started to feel feat and uneasiness for the girls actions and he didn't like it, not one bit. How could such a tiny pathetic girl do this to him? He growled and he bawled his hands into fist as he punched her face. He watched as her head snapped to the hide and he felt pride flood through him. The girl's head snapped to the side and her eyes widened and a dangerous glaze slid over them. She stayed that way for a few seconds before it started. The giggles came out and she couldn't stop them, hell she didn't want to stop. The giggles started out as small little hitches in her breath, then to breathy chuckles, and finally the giggles bubbled out some louder than others and she snapped her head to look at him and her giggles progressed into full laughter as she saw his face. Suddenly her face darkened and her laughter stopped completely as she lurched her body forward and her mouth wrapped around his head. She stared up at him and that strange stretched smile found its way up on her lips again and she bit down.

Hard.

He screamed as the bitter iron tasting liquid filled her mouth and she giggled crazily as he launched himself away from her and she spit the chunk of meat out of her mouth and launched herself at him pulling her knife from her waistband blindly bringing her arm down. He yelled as the knife came down on his bare thigh and she giggled madly as the blood squirted across her face and ran down his leg, He fell to the ground and she quickly crawled on top of him and brought the knife down repeatedly one time after another on his stomach and she laughed happily as she got splattered with blood, His screams turned to yells and he was still moaning in pain as she giggled above him licking the blunt edge of the knife moaning and shivering.

"Only a father could love this." She whispered down at him smiling that smile that made his stomach clench (pun intended) before she took the knife and slid it deeply across his neck. She laughed as she had done it and giggled above his body a bit before she heard the neighbors beating on the door which only made her laugh harder as they informed her they had called the police.

With the memory of her father's murder fresh in her mind she giggled again and soon her giggles had turned into full blown high pitched laughter. Gone was her normal hoarse laugh but what replaced it was a high pitch insane laugh and she loved every bit of it. Her laughter didn't stop as loud heavy pounding was heard on the door.

"OPEN THE DOOR IT'S THE POLICE!" Was shouted through and that only sent her into another fit of giggles.

"Oh excuuuse me. I'm uh, I'm ah ah ah bit uhm a bit uhh messy right now and I can't answer the door. I'm afraid that you'll uh have to come back at a more uh convenient time." She called to the police officer at the other side of the door and she was sent into another laughing fit by her own words. She walked over to her father and grabbed the bloody knife that laid next to his head and she giggled as she picked it up and kicked his head. She made her way to the bathroom chuckling to herself as the police managed to get the door off it's hinges and 4 men ran inside the apartment.

"Iiinnn heeerrreee" She sang loudly out to them giggling as she stepped over her bloodied clothes. She heard their boots coming closer to the bathroom and she giggled as she looked in the full bodied mirror again her eyes trained on the doors reflection. It was pushed open harshly as two of the men stood their guns trained on her back as she laughed loudly eyes wide, grin stretched across her face and she quickly put her knife armed hand up to her throat and yanked it across deeply. She had slit her throat so deeply that the top half had collapsed in on itself and she was breathing shakily through the deep cut smiling wide and staring at the ceiling, she didn't realize she had fallen.

She was completely insane.

And she welcomed it with open arms, a wide eyed smile, and a giggle.

She opened her eyes and blinked blearily her eyes darting around her when she found she couldn't move her neck.

She was in a hospital.

Her arms were full of different plastic tubes and needles and she grimaced trying to move but she found her body ached and she whimpered but that only set fire to her throat and she laid there miserably. She wasn't sure how long she laid there until the room door opened and a nurse stepped through. When their eyes meant the nurse seemed startled and she hurried over to her, her heels clicking rapidly on the tile.

"Hello, I'm nurse Anderson, you were found in the streets a couple nights ago do you know where you are?" She asked and the girl on the bed stared at her in confusion. She tried to shake her head no but the big clunky neck brace thing she had on made it impossible and it just made her ache more.

"Oh oh I'm sorry here I'll get you some pain medicine to put on your drip, Ma'am you're in Gotham General Hospital and the doctor will come and meet with you shortly.

Did she say...

Gotham General Hospital?