#A Harley without a family is a dreadful Harley | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

poke-me-with-a-stick · 1 year

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Chapter 17 of 'Artificial Wingman!'

For the full story, click Here!

Enjoy!

(Warning! Violence, blood, and a bit of spite)

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Damian crouched next to the broken skylight, watching his target pace the concrete floor of the abandoned warehouse. Red Hood perched next to him, staring at the man with the same mixture of contempt and rage that he was currently feeling. The teen would bet that his eyes were glowing Lazarus green under his helmet.

“What’s the plan?” He asked the man, his eyes never leaving the limping clown below them. He ignored the small bit of satisfaction he gained from the fact that the man was already injured. Most likely by one of his two hostaged. Harley, if he had to name who he thinks did it.

“Why do you think I have a plan?” Jason glanced at him, his voice gruff. Damian couldn't help but to roll his eyes. He really didn't have the patience for Todd's humor right now.

"Tt, you are the one who told me that we needed a plan before 'charging head first' into the situation. So I ask again, what is the plan?" He did tear his eyes away from the man this time, turning to stare at his brother.

Red Hood huffed and shook his head, but looked back through the window again. "I don't see them in there right now. He had to have moved them, right?" Damian nodded, turning back to observe the room as well. "But they have to be somewhere close. I say we search that side room over there first."

The teen thought it over. While he wanted to go for a more… violent approach, Todd's plan made much more sense. If they could find Danny without letting Joker know that they were here, then they had a better chance of getting the teen out unscathed. Also meaning that they could be gone before Batman made his grand entrance.

It would be in their best interest to be gone before his father showed up. Until he had this love potion situation with Danny sorted out, he did not want nor need his family's involvement.

Shaking himself, he gave Red Hood a nod before slipping through the broken skylight, landing nimbly on the support beam below. Hood followed close behind, his thick boots making soft, metallic thumps on the metal as he landed mere inches away. Quickly, the two made their way across the beams, keeping to the shadows to avoid being spotted as they trapeze over their enemy's head.

When they were right above the door, both vigilanties paused, their eyes snapping over to Joker as they climbed down as silently as possible. Thankfully, the man seemed much too busy examining his arm. What he was looking at, Damian couldn't tell from this angle. If he were to guess, he would assume it was some sort of injury, based on the pained grimace that scrunched up his painted face.

Ducking behind a large crate, Damian spared a glance back at Todd before focusing his attention back to the main room. He trusted the man to pick a lock.

From his hiding spot, he observed the clown, taking note of the way he seemed to favor his right leg, as well as the injury on his arm. A bit of pride welled up inside him as he realized that Danny had probably caused at least one of those wounds. Dread welled up right after it. 'If the Joker was injured, how was Danny right now?'

The teen was pulled from his thoughts as three goons entered the room. He ducked further into the shadows, throwing a glance back at Todd. Thankfully, the man didn't seem to have thrown all of his concentration into picking the lock, being fast to slip behind a rather large barrel as the three came to a stop in front of their boss.

"Well?" Joker growled at them, an uncharacteristic scowl etched into his palored expression.

The men shifted nervously for a few moments until one seemed to gather his courage. "No sign of them, sir." He said, taking half a step back as he fiddled with his clown mask.

Joker sneered at the man, pulling a gun quickly and shooting a round into the man's shoulder.

The goon dropped to the floor with a guttural scream, clutching the wound as he curled up in a ball. Joker rolled his eyes and gestured to the man with his gun. The remaining two men leaped into action immediately, hoisting up their injured comrade. "Go. And don't come back until you find them!" The clown shouted after their retreating figures. He growled to himself, putting his gun away before he began pacing again.

His gaze didn't leave the man as Jason went back to the lock, only looking back when he heard the telltale click. "Psst!" His brother's modulated voice hissed at him. He turned and nodded at the man, slinking backwards slowly as he cracked the door open. Silently, they both slid through the doorway, quickly closing the door behind them.

Breathing a quiet sigh, Damian straightened from his crouch. Todd stood as well, slipping his lock picking kit back into his pocket. Taking a moment to regroup, the teen pulled one of his knives free of its sheath. Hood mimicked him, sliding one of his pistols out of it's holster, holding the weapon alertly as he began moving forwards.

The room they had entered was dark, no windows to light up the place. Not that the dark was much of an issue, considering the variety of functions a bat suit has. A night vision setting for his domino was basic compared with some of the things Drake had added to it.

Space was taken up by more large crates, these stacked high enough to be considered walls. Both vigilanties moved silently through the maze they made, shadows as they searched for signs of active life.

After what Damian knew was only a few minutes, they did find active life. Just… not who they had hoped to find. In the middle of the crate maze, was a table. A single light bulb hung over the cheap wood, making the five masked men sitting idly around it very obvious.

Hood gestured for him to stop, pulling him down when one of the men glanced in their direction. The goon's eyes passed over them, going back to the table as another slapped down a card.

"Humf," One of the clowns grumbled, shuffling his own cards around. Damian ignored the men, his gaze intently searching the room for any sign of Danny. 'Not here.' Several choice words flashed through his mind, not slipping out solely because of what Alfred would do if he ever heard.

Glancing back at Todd, he inclined his head towards the men, a silent question. The man seemed to think about it for a moment before nodding. He didn't waste any time slipping away, ducking and weaving around crates and barrels until he was across the room. His gaze caught Todd's, understanding passing between them.

At the same time, they both leaped forwards, striking the men fast and hard. All five men were knocked out cold before they could even react. Damian worked quickly on tying them up, not really caring that the zip ties might be cutting into their skin a bit harshly.

"I don't think he's in here." Todd pointed out, peering around a few crates just to be sure.

"Hmph." Damian grumbled. "Son what now?c the teen questioned, crossing his arms. He did his best to remain impassive, trying not to show how anxiety was beginning to eat at him.

"If he isn't here, then we need to find out where he went." The man stated, stalking past the teen as he made his way back the way they came. "Looks like you might get to put those blades of yours to use." He called over his shoulder. Despite the helmet, Damian knew the man was smirking. Not a smile, but the sadistic tilt of his lips he did when someone got what was coming to them.

While that smirk usually irritated the teen, he couldn't help but feel a stirring of anticipation at his brother's words.

Unlike on their way in, the two didn't go for stealth as they came back out. Jason pulled one of his pistols, clicking the safety off before landing a harsh kick to the door. The wood creaked dangerously, the hinges protesting loudly as the door slammed into the wall. The noise immediately caught Joker's attention, the clown pulling his gun and turning towards them.

Todd fired a shot at the man, hitting the hand wrapped around the weapon. With a hiss, the Joker dropped his gun, pulling his now-bleeding hand to his chest. Damian saw the look of recognition flash through the clown's eyes as he realized who was stalking towards him, gun clicking as he cocked it again. A strained smile pulled at the man's pale face. "Well well well, didn't expect Batsy to let you loose tonight." The man chuckled, his eyes never leaving the gun in Red Hood's hand. "Does your Daddy know you're here?" He sneered, obviously trying to get a rise out of him.

To his credit, Todd didn't react to the taunt, keeping a steady pace as he wordlessly stalked closer to the villain. With such an obvious threat in front of him, it was incredibly easy for Damian to sneak up behind him. One quick and ruthless strike to the back of his injured leg had the man falling with a pained grunt. He tried to hurriedly push himself back up, but Damian's well-placed foot on his back effectively stopped the motion.

Todd crouched down in front of the man, his gun clutched loosely as he stared down at the man. The man managed to project an air of lazy confidence, despite the rage that Damian knew was festering behind his calm facade. "Alright." Todd started. "This is how it's gonna go. You," he pointed at the clown, "are going to tell us what we want to know."

An unnerving grin spread the clown's painted lips. "And if I don't?" He questioned. Damian had to hold back a scoff. Of course the Joker would act flippant in a situation with his life at stake. It didn't matter though. It wasn't his problem that the man didn't realize just what kind of danger he was in, faced with the two most violent members of the Bat Family.

Todd tilted his head, observing the man with obvious disdain. "If you don't? Well, in that case, you'll get a new job! How does being a human pin cushion sound?" The faux cheer coming through his voice modifier was as fake as could be, something that would have no doubt grated on Damian's nerves in any other situation.

The teen took his brother's words as a signal, immediately sinking one of his blades into the concrete right beside the clown's head. Satisfaction curled in him as red slid down the blade's edge, welling from a fresh knick in his ear. Joker hissed, his head flinching away as he eyed the blade warily. Taking his gaze away from the blade, he sneered at Hood. "Oh please, are you even really trying?" He rolled his eyes. "You'll have to do better than that if you're threatening me. Everyone knows that Batsy wouldn't let you do any actual damage."

Damian couldn't help but smirk as Hood shifted, resting his gun on his thigh as he readjusted. "Who said Batman knew we were even here?" The growl in his voice was almost a purr as he spoke, and Damian didn't need to see his face to know the sadistic smile he was wearing. Beneath him, the teen could feel the clown stiffen. 'Good,' Damian thought, putting more weight onto his foot. He was finally realizing what situation he was in.

The two vigilanties stayed quiet, waiting patiently for a response. The silence stretched on for a few minutes before he finally broke. "Okay, okay!" The man's voice shook. "What do you want?"

"That's more like it!" Hood laughed, leaning back on his heels. He grew serious as he settled again. "Now, what we wanna know. Where are the hostages?"

The Joker scoffed in disbelief. "Seriously? That's what you want to know?" Damian fought the urge to draw another knife.

"Yeah." Todd tilted his head down, staring at the man as he stood up. "That's what we wanna know. So, Harley and the boy. Where are they?" He rolled his gun from palm to palm in a deliberately absent sort of way.

The Joker ignored the silent threat. Instead, he let out an incredulous huff, disdain clear on his face. "I don't know." He growled.

"You don't know?" Todd's voice took on a dangerous lilt. "Now, I find that hard to believe." He stalked closer, until his boot was right in the man's face. With a rough movement, he slid the toe of his boot under the man's chin, angling in upwards until the Joker's neck strained, forced to look upwards.

"It's the truth." The man spat, his voice strained by the action. "I don't know where they are." Hood didn't say anything, glaring down at the man for a long while. With a staticky huff, he suddenly yanked his foot away. Neither of them felt bad when his face fell hard into the concrete.

Hood crouched again, gripping his oily green hair tightly, pulling his head back up. "Talk." He growled.

"They left!" The words tumbled out with a pained wheeze. "That feral brat bit me, and Harley got loose, and they left!" Todd hummed, but said nothing. His lackluster response egged the villain on. "I don't know where the bitch took him, but they're long gone by now. Who knows what hole they've crawled into."

Todd loosened his grip on the man's hair, standing again with a weary sigh. "And we're back to square one." He muttered walking towards the exit. Louder, he called over his shoulder. "I'll be outside! Tie him up when you're done!"

Damian nodded, but stayed silent until he heard a door close. He knew Todd hadn't really left, more than likely he had found a door to slam before climbing back into the rafters to watch. But his words invoked the intended reaction from the man Below him.

"Ha!" The Joker laughed. "Did he leave you behind to deal with me? He's more of a coward than I thought." Anger welled up in Damian as the clown insulted his brother, but he stayed as he was. 'A diversion tactic,' he told himself. 'He's just trying to drop your guard.'

Sure enough, only a moment later, the man attempted to sit up quickly. Probably aiming to knock him down long enough to dive for a weapon. Unfortunately for the clown, Damian was a step ahead of him. His weight shifted on the man's shoulder, shoving him back down quite forcefully. Before he could try again, Damian had a knife out. With one swift movement, the sharp blade pierced through the man's hand, hitting the concrete below it with a sharp tink sound. The man howled in pain, trying to curl his legs beneath him. There was much more Damian longed to do, much more violent things that he hadn't done in years, but he didn't have time for any of that. They had the information they needed, as dissatisfied as it left him, and there was no need in sticking around. One sharp kick to the temple, and the Joker was out cold.

Pulling his blades free, he re-sheathed them and pulled out some zip ties. Once the man was restrained, he stood, heading the way Todd had left.

Just as he predicted, his brother dropped from the rafters just before he reached the door. "Nice one." He commented as they exited the building, pulling their grapples and launching themselves onto a nearby roof. They hung around until they could hear the sirens in the distance, taking off at the first sign of lights. The entire time, Damian paced the rooftop, impatience blatantly obvious.

"I'm surprised." Todd told him. "Honestly, it seemed like you would do more than stab him."

"Tt." Damian scoffed. "I would have, but we have more pressing matters to attend to." He crossed his arms, foot tapping in the gravel. "Not to mention, we have no way of knowing when the others will show up. It would be harder to escape the manor a second time." Todd hummed in agreement.

"So, what now?"

Damian shot him a look. "Why are you asking me?"

Red Hood shrugged. "There are several ways we could go about this." He pointed out. "We could search the city by hand. Or we could head back to the apartment to regroup and tell Jazz what happened. We could ask Ivy if she knows where Harley is, assuming she didn't drop Danny off somewhere." He ticked each option off on his fingers as he spoke. "It's up to you. What do you want to do, Demon brat?"

Damian scowled at the nickname, but said nothing as he thought each option over. Searching the city by hand would take too long. Heading back to the apartment had its merits, but that's assuming Jasmine could find the teen without any sort of trackers. It would be a lot different than pinpointing a broadcasting signal. And calling Poison Ivy would be a bit of a gamble. Yes, the chances that she knew where Harley wasn and if she still had Danny with her, were high, but getting her to share the information might be tricky depending on her mood at the time.

Sighing, Damian came to a decision. "We might as well head back to the apartment. If Jasmine cannot find him, we will contact Ivy."

Todd nodded. "Alrighty then. Lead the way!" Despite his words, he launched himself ahead of Damian, letting out a cackle at the irate noise he made.

—

Ivy sneezed suddenly, blinking in surprise. Beside her, Harley glanced over. "You okay?" She asked, setting down her pizza slice. Ivy waved her off.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She told the woman.

"S'mone's talk'n 'bout you." Danny pipped up, talking around the slice of pepperoni he was messily shoving into his mouth.

"Danny, don't talk with your mouth full." Jazz scolded him, dabbing at the mess of sauce on his face. He grumbled a bit, but made no move to stop her. Harley cooed at the scene they made. Ivy rolled her eyes and took another bite of her slice.

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(There might be some grammar/spelling mistakes. It's okay because I tried my best!)

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#danny phantom #dc x dp #danny phantom x dc #batman x danny phantom #batman #dead serious #danny phantom x batfam #danny phantom x damian wayne #love potion #miscommunication #Aritficial Wingman #fic on AO3 #fanfic #anger management #long post

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volantium · 1 year

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when the light is sweet & heavy

a small halloween fic for @sheps-shepherd ily 🎃🧡 | read it here on ao3

The season turns into October, when the light is sweet and heavy. Orange leaves are carried to their final resting along the breeze. It is the month for resurrection, to cast off the year as it approaches winter, to begin anew without consequence. Without fail, Harley finds himself dreading the possibility of it all over again.

Harley’s never really been one for Halloween.

Mainly, cause, well, his father walked out on them close enough to the day that Harley always thought it was some elaborate trick or treat thing, a horror movie with a happy ending where he would come back with the world’s fill of candy with him just to see his kids smile. But he never came back, and Harley took Abby down to the square cause Ma worked thirteen, fourteen hours to make ends meet in the aftermath.

They were young, that first year, and each year since has been an exercise in not thinking too hard about where his dad is now. If he has other kids he’s taking out trick or treating, while Harley’s left to trail along behind Abby in her homemade fairy costume, the only one looking after his kid sister in a town where Halloween is a family affair.

Rose Hill is small. Small enough that all the neighbours know about the Keener kids, small enough to whisper behind their hands whenever they spy Harley and Abby, for reasons even Harley doesn’t understand anymore.

He thought it would’ve got old by now.

At least school calmed down. Probably helped that Harley has anger issues and a protective streak a mile long and been in detention more times than he can count. Harley’s calmed down a little, too, after Tony Stark crash landed into his life and decided he’d pay for this random kid’s therapy.

Abby’s on the edge of fourteen now, young enough to still want to dress up and go out but old enough to insist she can absolutely go by herself. And when little Miss Annabelle Keener wants something, by God is she going to get it. Normally. This year, Peter makes all the difference. She absolutely cannot wait to drag Peter around the town, and Harley tries not to let his guilt show.

Harley’s still not really sure how they swung it. Peter should be in New York at some party and Harley should be alone to trail behind Abby as she goes door to door. Instead, they’re here, together in Rose Hill—a rarity in itself that Harley’s stopped looking the proverbial gift horse in the mouth. Peter’s only been here for a day and a half, and yet his presence is enough to soothe something in Harley’s soul. But it is Halloween, and Harley’s never been able to fully shake the shroud that falls around him each and every October.

Harley begs Peter’s forgiveness, one night, when they’re curled up together in Harley’s single bed. It’s far, far too small for the both of them. Harley’s pushing six foot two and Peter’s got too many pointy elbows and knees for them to be truly comfortable. But they make do, with Harley plastered against the wall and Peter tucked into his side, playing with Harley’s fingers in the cool fall night.

It’s not overly late. The sky is still a hazy, faded blue twilight out the window. Dinner is cooking, slowly in the oven. Harley wishes he could spend his whole life in this moment. He’s so rarely content in this house anymore.

Harley doesn’t know what makes him say it. Maybe it’s the way he’s noticed Peter watching him, when he thinks Harley isn’t aware, or it’s the way there’s only Halloween decorations around where Abby is most throughout the house. Maybe it’s just Peter and the fact that Harley’s never been so singularly understood by another human being before.

“I’m not—I’m not dressing up for Halloween,” he says, voice catching over the admission.

Peter’s fingers still, twined gently with Harley’s. Peter blinks up at him, brown eyes warm as caramel. Harley knows he’s ruining the moment. Can feel the slowly built peace of the evening crumble around him like sand. Peter is so excited for Halloween, bouncing-off-the-walls-only-beaten-by-Abby kind of excited. But something sits just below Harley’s breastbone, pushed tight into the very curve of him that’s ready to snap.

“You wanna tell me why?”

Harley shrugs, as much as one can when laying sideways. “You know the shape of it,” he says, because Harley’s made too many self-deprecating jokes about his absent father that Peter doesn’t not know the general story. “Dad left around this time of year. It’s always been... Difficult, I guess.”

Peter hums in the back of his throat, a sound that Harley’s come to recognise as Peter’s way of just letting him talk, of letting Harley feel out his own thoughts aloud. He tells Peter the immediate reaction–his mom’s, Abby’s, his. That first Halloween, when Harley sat by the door all day waiting for his dad to appear. That night, taking Abby out, because she was too young to know any better, walking behind her with his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, waiting patiently at the end of every driveway. Even as young as she was, Abby shared her precious haul with her brother, has done so each year, and it’s one of the few things that makes Harley smile in October. Runs roughshod over everything since that first Halloween, the way Ma disappeared for a while, the way the town seemed to make a mystery out of the Keeners, or what was left of them. How it’s all tangled up in the knot in his chest and in the parts of him that make him Harley, and how he doesn’t think he’ll even get dressed up for Halloween ever again.

He sighs, heavily, at the end of it, the story told.

“It’s just not something I do,” Harley finishes, lamely, suddenly self-conscious.

Peter doesn’t say anything for several minutes, which doesn’t help Harley’s growing anxiety. Harley opens his mouth, probably to make a fool out of himself, but before he can speak Peter’s hand is untangled from his and is cupping his cheek, Peter’s fingers sliding into the wheat-blonde hair around Harley’s ear.

Peter kisses him, then, soft and gentle, easily, like he doesn’t even realise that Harley’s world stops revolving every time. Harley sighs into it, draws the moment out, curls his own hand into the fabric of Peter’s collar, just to hold him there.

When they pull apart, Harley taps his forefinger against Peter’s collarbone, an absent-minded tick, settled by the warmth of his boyfriend’s skin.

“Darlin’?”

“Yeah?”

“I haven’t ruined your Halloween, have I? I’m sorry.”

“Of course not,” Peter replies, instantly, much to Harley’s relief. “The fact we get to spend Halloween together means the world to me. The how doesn’t matter. There’s nothing to apologise for, baby.”

“Okay,” Harley’s voice is unsteady even to his own ears, as if he can’t quite believe his luck.

“Hey,” Peter says, just as low, just as carefully. “I’m so proud of you. And it’s okay that you’re not going to wear a costume.”

Harley presses his own kiss to the centre of Peter’s forward. “Thanks, darlin’,”

“I guess that ruins MJ’s idea of us going as the Scooby gang, though,” Peter muses, eyes flickering over Harley’s face. “You’d make a good Daphne.”

“Oh, shut up,” Harley says without any heat, smiling.

They lay there in comfortable silence, until they eventually have to get up and finish making dinner. They’re halfway down the stairs when Peter breaks the quiet.

“Well, you know what, I’m still wearing my suit,” Peter declares. “I think it’s hilarious.”

Which leads them to now, a day later; Peter, pulling on his old pyjama-looking Spider-Man suit. It looks like it hasn’t seen the light of day in several years, which probably makes it look more like a costume than anything practical or used by a superhero, which is rather the point.

“Tony will have your ass if he finds out you’re wearing that,” Harley points out.

“You better not tell him, then, Keener,” he shoots back. “Besides, there’s going to be a million other kids dressed up as me, it won’t even matter.”

Harley huffs a laugh, more at the fact that Peter thinks there’ll be a million other kids in Rose Hill (population approximately one thousand, four hundred and seventy-three) than that there’ll be kids dressed up as Spider-Man. Harley’s sure they’ll see some. Maybe like one, or two.

Harley rolls his eyes, voice skeptical. “Right.”

Harley shoves on a beanie and his tattered denim jacket, and follows Peter out to the porch steps, where they find Abby patiently waiting, pillowcase in hand.

She’s dressed up as a zombie pirate this year, in a fashionable array of paraphernalia that Harley has no idea where she got from. Probably the school drama department.

“Finally!” She exclaims at the sight of them, jumping up. “We’re losing daylight people, let’s go, we need to get to the Johnson’s before all the good stuff is gone.”

“Who are the Johnson’s?” Peter asks.

“They’re—” Harley begins, only to be cut off by Abby.

“Walk and talk, come on!”

“Oh my God, okay,” Harley says instead, grabbing his keys and herding his sister out the gate, Peter bringing up the rear. “The Johnson’s are Rose Hill’s premier Halloween connoisseurs,” he throws over his shoulder, putting on a stuffy accent.

“And they have the best candy,” Abby chimes in.

“And they have the best candy,” Harley confirms.

It’s not a long walk, about twenty minutes until they start hitting the houses all bunched together near the town centre. Abby points her plastic sword in the vague direction of the Johnson’s, and sets out with a very determined bounce to her step.

Harley falls back to watch Abby point out each house they pass to Peter, the ones they’re all going to visit on the way back home. The old man who only has gumballs each and every year. The couple who pretends they aren’t home but have always sent Abby on her way with chocolate when she knocks. The street is teaming, vampires and witches and one Frankenstein running back and forth between the houses.

The Johnson’s place sits right on the corner, prime real estate, and also the busiest house by far. Their front yard is full of skeletons and tombstones, a witches brew full of candy by the front door. The miracle of the Johnson’s place is that it’s a free for all—the Johnson’s themselves are probably elsewhere with their brood.

“Wow,” Peter says, taking in the house, the fake cobwebs that cover the roof, the red lights in the weeping tree that make it look covered in blood, the giant carved pumpkins that frame the doorway.

“Yeah,” Harley replies. “It’s like this every year.”

Abby takes off, nearly diving headfirst into the giant cauldron of candy to get at the best bits. The Johnsons always have Warheads, which is what Abby’s truly after.

Peter watches her go. “She really likes Halloween, huh?”

“She really likes the sugar rush.”

Peter snorts, and then wades in after her. Harley watches as Peter’s marginally longer arms are utilised to their full effect as Abby makes him reach down to the very bottom, hand emerging with at least ten packets of Warheads.

Harley waits at the end of the driveway, like always, hands in his pockets. It’s not that he hates Halloween itself. He used to love it, too, before everything. But now it’s just an unnecessary reminder of all the other happy families in this God forsaken backwater.

Peter returns to his side, passing a Snickers bar to him. “They really do have good candy.”

Harley agrees, unwrapping it to take a bite.

“Where’s Abby?” He asks around the mouthful of chocolate.

“I think she ran into her friends,” Peter says, and points over to where their zombie pirate girl is, standing with a clown with a knife through her head and a fairy princess.

Harley nods, about to tell Peter which is who when a voice behind them calls, "Harley!" and turns to see PTA mom Miriam Johnson in the flesh.

Before Harley can say anything, Peter slaps a hand across his chest. Harley looks down at said hand, then to Peter, down again, back to Peter.

“Babe, what—”

Peter shushes him. “Look.”

Besides Miriam is her son, Zac, dressed up as Spider-Man.

There’s a beat of silence, where Harley watches his boyfriend go wide-eyed. For all of Peter’s confidence about the suit earlier, Harley knows there’s a part of him that is worried. Worried that wearing the suit would make him stand out, so far from New York. Halloween is about being somebody else, and here’s Peter, with his secret identity on display, without even the mask to hide behind.

Harley knows Peter still melts at the sight of little kids looking up to Spider-Man, too. One day he’s going to convince Peter to see himself the way the rest of the world does, the way Harley does.

“I know, Pete,” he murmurs, low enough that Miriam nor Zac can hear him, as mother and son come to stand in front of them.

Zac points at Peter; Peter points at Zac; Harley can’t help himself and completes the triangle in perfect meme mimicry. Zac’s only like, eight, but he’s a funny kid. Harley used to dog walk for the Johnson’s before he started working at the mechanics.

The three of them laugh, and then Peter’s dropping into a crouch in front of Zac.

“Hey, there,” Peter says, holding out his hand. “I’m Peter.”

Zac looks at Harley, then up to his mom. Miriam gives his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“Go on, kid,” Harley says. “He doesn’t bite.”

Peter flashes a look over at Harley, but then Zac shakes his hand with childlike enthusiasm, “I’m Spider-Man!”

“Me too, buddy,” Peter says with a private smile. “You out here keeping Rose Hill safe?”

“Yep! And I have candy!”

Peter fishes a piece out of his own pillowcase, one he stole off Harley’s bed, drops it into Zac’s outstretched hand. “Here you go, Spider-Man.”

“What do you say, Zac?” Miriam says.

“Thanks, Peter!”

Peter stands back up next to Harley. “You’re welcome.”

“Hi, Mrs Johnson,” Harley says, polite to a fault. “You guys having fun?”

“Yes, Harley, thank you,” Miriam says, kindly. “Who’s your friend?”

It’s not that Harley particularly cares what Miriam Johnson thinks, or the rest of Rose Hill for that matter, but there’s a moment of stomach swooping anxiety, so far ingrained into him by growing up in the Bible Belt. But it’s Peter who answers, unaware of Harley having a low-grade panic attack next to him.

“I’m Peter,” with hand out again in repetition. “Harley’s boyfriend.”

Miriam’s eyes flicker back to Harley, in that way only straight white women do when they suddenly find out someone they never imagined would be is queer. The butterflies in Harley’s stomach settle when all she does is shake Peter’s hand.

“Oh!” She exclaims, and the butterflies kick back up again. “I didn’t know Harley was dating anyone, Macy didn’t even tell me.”

Harley knows with utter certainty that his relationship status will be common knowledge within the next couple of days, but in that moment, he’s never loved his mother more.

Harley shrugs when Miriam looks at him, as if he owes her some explanation.

Peter laughs, awkwardly, recovers quickly enough to ask, “How do you know Macy?”

“We went to school together,” Miriam answers, which is typical for almost the entire population of Rose Hill at one point or another. “Where are you from, Peter, you don’t sound like you’re from here?”

“He’s from New York,” Harley chimes in. “A regular ol’ city slicker.”

“Isn’t that where your Spider-Man is from, Zac, darling?”

Zac nods his head, several times, looking at Peter with a newfound sense of awe. Peter shoots a poorly concealed look of panic Harley’s way.

“Zac,” Harley calls, grabbing the kid’s attention. “Peter’s even met him, once or twice.”

“No way.”

“Yes way,” Harley replies. “Haven’t you, Pete?”

“Uh—sure, yeah, I have,” is Peter’s fumbled response. “He’s really—cool.”

Harley smothers a laugh.

“Whoa," says Zac, bright and wide-eyed.

“Isn’t that exciting!” Miriam says, utterly oblivious.

Peter stands there like a stick in the mud, and Harley’s left to wrap things up.

“Anyways, we better go find Abby before she takes your whole stock of Warheads,” Harley says.

“I made sure there was extra just for her,” Miriam says, smiling at Harley. “Tell your mother I said hello, Harley.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“And it was nice meeting you, Peter.”

Peter gives her a hundred-watt grin. “Likewise, Mrs Johnson.”

Zac waves in their direction as he and his mom walk off. Peter turns to him with that grin still on his face.

“What did I tell you, Harl?” Peter says, as they head back into the fray to find Harley’s sister. “I’m not the only one dressed up as Spider-Man.”

“Tony’s still going to kill you, man,” Harley replies, but there’s a smile creeping over his own face in light of Peter’s delight.

They find Abby conspiring with her knife-clown and fairy princess friend, swapping sweets in the orange light of the carved pumpkin.

“Abby,” Harley calls, grabbing her attention. “You want to go to some of the other houses?”

“Can Lucy and Cam come, too?”

Harley nods. “As long as their parents are fine with it.”

“We already asked,” knife-clown pipes in. “They’re cool.”

They trek out of the Johnson’s yard and back into the street. The sun is starting to disappear below the horizon, gilding the red leaves with gold. Harley and Peter walk ahead of the girls, hand in hand. They can hear the girls talking, can hear Abby explain who Peter is with a ‘and they’re holding hands! gross!’ Peter and him snicker together, and their kiss is greeted with a chorus of bleughhhhh behind them.

It’s the first Halloween in a long time Harley remembers being happy.

The girls and Peter go from house to house while Harley meanders along, thinking about how this year everything is different but not really at all. The melancholy’s still there, lingering perpetually underneath the surface, haunting him like a ghost. But waiting at the end of the driveway for his sister and his boyfriend seems easier this year, compared to the past.

They get honeycomb candy from the couple who pretends they aren’t home, run into Abby’s (and Harley’s) old teacher dressed as a witch, somehow manage to shove too many gumballs into already teaming pillowcases. Knife-clown and fairy princess shout their goodbyes at the end of the last street they walk down, hours after they found each other at the Johnsons. Dusk has given way to dark night across Rose Hill, and even Harley’s starting to feel it.

Abby breaks first, plopping herself down on the side of the road. “I’m tired.”

Her overly large pirate hat is slipping down across her face. She yawns big and wide.

“C’mon, bug,” Harley says, dropping down into a crouch, his back facing Abby. “Let’s go home.”

“Okay,” Abby says, not even putting up a fight, and hands off her sack of candy to Peter.

Abby clambers into the piggyback half asleep, her arms loose around Harley’s shoulders. Harley stands, carefully, hitching her into place for their walk home.

“Hey, Harley?” Abby whispers, voice quiet but still loud enough for Peter to hear. “I had a lot of fun this year.”

He hums in acknowledgement.

“You should keep him,” she says, and Harley doesn’t have to ask who.

“I’m planning on it, bug,” he whispers back, catching a glimpse of Peter’s small smile from the corner of his eye.

“Oh,” Abby’s head comes to rest against Harley’s shoulder, her voice sleepy. “That’s good.”

They’re back on their own street, the house down the very end. The light on the porch is visible even from this distance, glowing sepia yellow in the night.

“Bug?” Peter murmurs, after a while, looking at Abby, fast asleep.

Harley glances at his boyfriend. “She went through a period right after Dad left when she refused to answer to Abby or Annabelle, not even to Ma. Bug was the only thing that worked, and even then, it was only me who could use it to any effect.”

Peter nods, once, and Harley knows he’s slipping that thread of the story into the elaborate tapestry that makes up the Keener siblings. Neither of them point out how it’s only Peter who’s allowed to use Harl.

“I’m glad she had fun,” Harley says, some small admission that isn’t lost on Peter.

“Did you?” Peter asks. “Have fun, I mean?”

Harley takes a moment to really think about it. He leans over, presses a kiss to Peter’s cheek.

“Yeah, darlin’, I did.”

October passes between one breath and the next.

Peter smiles at him, as warm as the sun.

#parkner #parley #harley keener #peter parker #drabble #p: parkner #u: mcu

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ariaachillesaphrodisia · 1 year

Text

The Red Means I Love You - DC Vs. Vampires Fanfiction

An alternate ending to DC vs. Vampires Issue #12, in which Barbara makes a very different choice.

WARNING - THIS STORY CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR DC VS. VAMPIRES ISSUE #12, ALONG WITH THE REST OF DC VS. VAMPIRES.

She never knew a heart could beat this furiously until the moment she was walked into his castle.

She wanted to tell herself that it was nerves. That she was worried that her plan wouldn’t work. That something would go wrong, and either she would die, or Harley would die. That they wouldn’t be able to do what they came there to do. She wanted to tell herself maybe it was also partly that she was afraid. She could accept that. After all, they were marching into the home of the Vampire King, and being led around by his right-hand woman. Who also happened to be one of the strongest people she knew, even prior to becoming a vampire. Not only that, but since becoming one of the undead, Diana, AKA Wonder Woman, happened to have developed quite the taste for human blood, and for violence. She was honestly surprised that Diana hadn’t already attacked them. They were very clearly armed, her and Harley, and it wasn’t as though Diana didn’t know what they had come there to do. She wondered whether Diana wanted to kill them. Suspected she likely did. Whether out of loyalty to her king, or whether it was out of boredom, she wasn’t sure, but she was fairly certain that, if the king hadn’t ordered them to be brought alive… she wouldn’t be here dealing with her wildly pounding heart.

The Vampire King…

Nightwing…

Dick Grayson…

Her ex-boyfriend.

Her… her love.

She knew that was part of the reason why her heart was beating like a drum in her chest. She hated it. She wanted it to only be nerves or fear, but… but she knew it wasn’t. She… still loved him. And as much as she hated to admit it, and as much as she hated herself for it… part of her… was looking forward to seeing him again. She didn’t want it to be so. And part of her did dread seeing him again, because it wasn’t Dick. Not her Dick Grayson, at least. What he was now was something else. What he’d been for so long was someone else. He was a monster, she told herself. A murderer who killed without remorse. He hunted down people in Gotham for the fun of it. She should hate him more than anything. And she did. God, she hated him. But… she loved him too. And it didn’t matter how much she hated him and hated herself for loving him, she loved him all the same. Nothing could make it go away. She had tried. Oh, how she had tried. She told herself to stop thinking about him. Then she told herself to hate him. But even when doing either of those things… her heart still fluttered at the mention of his name. It sank and shattered too, but the flutters were still there. The image of his gentle eyes still came to mind at the mere mention of him. The sound of his sweet laugh. Memories of dates and moments they’d spent together before… everything. It all consumed her thoughts despite her best efforts to push them out. The dreams certainly didn’t help either. She was furious at Dick for those dreams. He already took up so much of her waking thoughts, so why couldn’t he just leave her sleeping ones alone?! She was owed that much, wasn’t she?

She couldn’t tell anyone about this dilemma, of course. What would she say? How could she ever explain to them that she was still in love with Dick, even after everything he’d done? She could barely admit it to herself, let alone figure out the rationality behind it. She supposed though that there likely wasn’t any. Was love rational? No, she thought, it wasn’t. So how was she supposed to deduce any rationality from her feelings for Dick? But it wasn’t as though that made it any better. She couldn’t simply tell them that she had no control over her feelings. Some might get it, and some might accept it but others… they would never look at her the same way. Damian… he’d hate her. Dick had killed the kid’s entire family in front of him. Had turned him into a vampire against his will. Damian would never forgive her for still having feelings for Dick, no matter how out of her control it was. And she didn’t blame him. If she was in his shoes, she’d never be able to forgive herself either. She hardly did in her own shoes.

So she was left alone with this secret. She’d told people about the dreams. Felt it was important. Dick was sending her messages, after all, and if they were going to have a shot at taking him down, all cards had to be laid out on the table. She’d left out the exact details of the dreams though. She didn’t feel they had to know those… and couldn’t bare the thought of how they’d look at her if she had told them everything. It was just another thing she’d have to deal with on her own. She was used to that now though.

There was so much she wanted to tell someone. Anyone. So much that she was keeping solely in her own head, and it was destroying her. She just wanted someone who could… help. Who she could talk to, and who understood her. But there was no one like that now, and so in silence she suffered. It was a small price to pay, she thought, compared to what so many others had lost. So, pay it she would. She could figure out what to do about her conflicting emotions later. Figure out what to feel about Dick later on. Right now… she had a job to do.

She, Harley and Diana entered a large, nearly empty room. There were tall windows covering the entire wall, and she thought that, perhaps once, it would have looked beautiful with the sun streaming in through them. But now there was no sun, and the windows only made the room feel colder. It didn’t help that there was very little in the room the distract her from the coldness of it all. She saw a couple pieces of furniture, along with a side table that had wine bottles and glasses on it. She shuddered at the thought of what could be in those glasses and tried to put them out of her mind. Instead, she turned her attention to the only area where a draft was coming in from. The balcony. She could see even from where she was standing that it overlooked nearly the entire city. She wasn’t surprised by this. He’d settle for nothing less, she thought to herself. She wasn’t surprised to see him standing on that balcony either. Always one for the dramatics.

“I’m so glad you finally made it, Barbara,” he called to her, turning to face them all. The second she saw his face, her heart gave that same flutter it did whenever someone mentioned his name, and she wanted to vomit. He looked… so much like he did before. For a moment… just a singular moment… she swore she could see those baby blue eyes she adored so much. The ones that were always so gentle and sweet. But then the moment passed, and they were replaced by the crimson color she despised. She snarled at him.

“I killed a lot of your kind to get here, Dick,” she spat. She expected this to get some sort of reaction from him, but he merely swirled the… liquid in his glass and looked over to her.

“As I knew you would,” was all he replied. He said nothing more on the matter, instead turning to Diana and saying, “Diana, you can go. And take Ms. Quinn with you, please.”

“She stays,” Barbara ordered without hesitation. She needed Harley there. Not only for her plan, but also because she needed Harley there for support. She… she wasn’t sure she could face Dick alone. Wasn’t sure she trusted herself enough to do that.

“My Lord, they are both armed…” Diana began to protest, but Dick cut her off swiftly.

“If Barbara wants her to stay, she can stay. Now leave us,” he instructed. Without another word, Diana left the room. Barbara had honestly expected her to put up a little bit more of a fight on either letting Harley stay in the room, or letting them both remain armed, but she supposed that Diana likely knew better than to fight Dick on this. He could be stubborn, she knew. Once upon a time, Barbara had loved that about him. There were so many things she’d loved about him before…

“Did you come here to kill me, Barbara?” Dick asked her.

“Is that why you are coming?”

The memory of the dream Barbara had had could not help but bubble to the surface, and Barbara shook her head. She had to focus. She couldn’t allow herself to be distracted. Not by her dreams. Not by her memories. Not by her feelings.

“I came here to stop you. If you can be stopped,” she admitted, seeing little to no point in lying to him about why they were there. She was surprised he even had to ask. She hesitated before speaking, unsure whether it was worth saying what she wanted to, but it was gnawing at her, and so she decided to ask, if only for her own resolution. “Dick, make it make sense to me. Please. How could you do all this?”

“How could I not? We have always surrounded ourselves with people who chose what was right and what was wrong, and used their strength to enforce their will. Am I really that different from Superman or Bruce?” Dick tried to argue, and Barbara felt her blood boiling.

“Bruce didn’t eat people,” she shot back.

“Who is Bruce?” she heard Harley call, and she was taken aback by this for a moment before realizing that it was an entirely fair question. She had forgotten in the heat of everything that not everyone knew that Batman was Bruce Wayne and vice versa. She contemplated answering, but then Dick began to speak again.

“No, he didn’t. But he didn’t need to, to survive. Do you remember our first date? You took me to Big Belly Burger. I don’t remember what you ordered, but you seemed to not mind eating those weaker and less intelligent…” he started, but she wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of finishing that sentence.

“Stop it! It’s different and you know it!” she screamed at him. She wanted to punch him.

“Is it? We choose moral lines for ourselves. I eat people who are vicious and cruel to others,” he tried to justify, “You eat innocent cows and chickens that never did anything…” he continued on, and she scoffed at this. If she wasn’t so tired and fed up with him, she could have laughed at how ridiculous everything he was saying was.

“The people you’re killing, all of you are killing, they aren’t all villains. They’re not monsters,” she interjected. She expected him to continue arguing his point, but instead Dick just waved her off.

“Barbara, stop it. We’ve both been doing this long enough to know… these people you care about, they’re all just one bad day away from becoming everyone’s worst nightmare,” he said, and his voice was… softer now. He sounded tired almost. Some part of her was saddened by this. He sounded so much like her Dick Grayson in that moment, and it took everything in her to remind herself that he wasn’t.

“You’re proof of that,” she hissed at him. The sadness from before had been replaced by anger. Anger towards this fake Dick Grayson who had stolen away the man she loved and replaced him with a cold, dead husk of someone who used to be so… alive. Dick paused for a moment and drew in a sharp breath.

“That hurt. But you’re right. We were too aggressive with all this. I’ve thought it since the start. Even though I didn’t have the courage to say it. That’s why I need you. Your conscience. Your compassion. Think of how many people you could still save,” Dick said to her. It was Barbara’s turn to freeze. Save? What… what was he talking about? He sounded sincere. His voice was low and soft again. He could have been lying, of course. Trying to manipulate her… but… he didn’t… if he was… she wasn’t sure why. What he gained from this.

“What are you…” she began, but Harley interrupted her.

“Pull yourself together here, girl. He’s doing some dead-guy mind trick. Messing with your head,” she cut in, and Barbara sighed. She turned away from the balcony. Away from Dick. Harley was right, of course. He was just toying with her emotions. Playing off her feelings for him. That was all… wasn’t it?

But part of her couldn’t help but entertain the possibility that maybe, just maybe, he was telling the truth. Maybe he really did want to fix things. Maybe there was a part of him that wanted to change how things were. There was no saving the world. She knew that. They could turn it back to how it was before but… that wasn’t saving the world. That was just saving those lucky enough to not be turned currently. And what about those who had lost loved ones, either to the bite of a vampire or to being turned? How many people who had been turned against their will like Damian would die? They’d protect Damian if – when – the world turned back to normal. Make sure he was somewhere out of the sun. Ensure he could find food until they found a cure. But not everyone had those resources or the knowledge. How many would die if they did manage to turn things back? How many would die before they even got close to developing a usable cure?

“Help me find the path to where we can all coexist, in a humane way. If anyone can find it, it’s you,” Dick called to her from behind. Should she believe him? Believe he really did want to change the way things were? Believe that he truly did seek a way for humans and vampires to coexist? Maybe he knew that the casualties would be high should this war continue? For both sides. Regardless of whether her side won or his, the losses that both would suffer would be substantial, and perhaps he was aware of that? But still…

“You think you can just fix what you did?!” she snapped without turning towards him.

“I think we can. It might take years. Centuries even,” he elaborated. She was about to tell him that he could not undo the damage he had done. Even if he could in terms of what he’d done to the world, the emotional scars ran too deep for some quick fix. But something in his sentence caught her off guard.

“Centuries? But…” she began, trying to explain to him that she didn’t have centuries. He might. He might have all the time in the world, as far as she knew. So long as no one killed him, of course. But… but she didn’t. She was human. Did he… no… but… could he mean to…

“Babs, you damn idiot! He eats people!” screamed Harley as she flung herself through the air, pushing Barbara away from Dick and launching herself at him. Barbara’s eyes widened in horror as Dick caught her easily mid-air, grabbing Harley and hoisting her up by her throat.

“ENOUGH!” he growled. His long, sharp fangs were visible now. Despite her best efforts not to show it, Barbara could see the stark panic and fear in Harley’s expression as she looked over at the other woman.

“A little help, Barbie? We’re trying to kill the bad guy, remember?” Harley wheezed out, and Barbara raised the stake she had been carrying, aiming it at Dick. Part of her screamed at her not to do it, but she couldn’t let him kill Harley.

“Killing me will change nothing. Diana or Clark will just take my place,” Dick shouted at her, fangs still extended, “You’ve lost so much already. Think of what you can gain. Think of the good you can do if you join me.”

“I get it. He’s a pretty boy with a great ass. But he’s brainwashing you, lady,” Harley reasoned, but Barbara felt her hands quivering around the stake. Was he just lying to her? Brainwashing her, as Harley claimed? Or… was he being sincere? Could they… could she do good if she joined him? Could they make things better?

“Look in your heart, Barbara. You know I’m not. I would never do anything to control you,” Dick cooed. His voice was back to being sweet and gentle like before. It was so tempting to believe him. She wanted to believe him.

“But… my dreams…” she whispered, her grip on the stake still tight despite her shaking hands. She was looking down now, not trusting herself to look him in the eyes. The room was silent for a moment, only the sound of Harley’s wheezing and her own quick breaths breaking the stillness. Then, finally, Dick spoke.

“I visited you because I missed you. But I never made you do anything. And I never told you anything that wasn’t true. Because I love you,” he told her, and Barbara thought she might collapse right there and then. She’d prepared for so many things. A battle. Capture. An altercation. But not that. Not those words. Nothing could have prepared her for him saying those words to her. She fought tears and the rising nausea, and tried her best to keep her composure.

“Get off of her,” she hissed at him, trying to keep focused on the task at hand: saving Harley. To her shock and surprise, he did as she requested, dropping Harley to the floor without any hesitation.

“As you wish,” he responded, hands up in the air dramatically. He had one foot on a small side table, still standing close to Harley. However, despite the theatrics of it all, Barbara could tell he was keeping his distance to show her he would abide by her wishes. She was relieved by this. Harley, on the other hand, seemed less at ease.

“Took your time there,” she gasped, still trying to catch her breath. Her eyes were wide, and she was holding onto her throat. Barbara could imagine the adrenaline was still coursing through her body, and she couldn’t blame her for that panic either.

“What now? You kill me?” Dick asked her, hands still in the air. Barbara hesitated.

“I… I don’t know…” she answered in a quiet voice.

“I would never hurt you. You know that,” he tried to assure her, “But if you must kill me because of who I am…” he started, but she cut him off.

“Stop, Dick! Just stop,” she demanded, and this time, it was his turn to fall silent. “You just… you ruined everything. You took everything from me. My father. Bruce. Everyone I cared about. My whole world,” she breathed, removing her mask so she could let the tears, which were now flowing like waterfalls, fall freely. “I’m just so tired. So tired of fighting, Dick. So tired of losing,” she admitted. To him. And to herself.

“I know, Barbara. I am too,” he confided, and she knew he was telling the truth. She could hear it in his voice. The exhaustion. The heartbreak. The sorrow. All the things she was feeling… but had never been able to voice.

“Gordon, do it now!” Harley was shouting to her, and she knew she should but…

But she couldn’t.

She truly was so, so tired of fighting. She’d been so tired for so long. Couldn’t remember the last time she felt… free. She looked over at Harley, who was frantically motioning for her to stab Dick. Harley was counting on her to do it. Everyone was counting on her to do it. Everyone expected so much from her. The weight of all of it rested on her shoulders, but they were starting to ache. No, not starting. They’d been aching for so long, but everyone was counting on her, so she’d hid it from them. From all of them. Hid her pain. Her sorrow. Her fears. Her conflicting emotions. She had no one to confide in. Everyone had things they wanted from her but… no one cared about what she wanted. What she needed. She didn’t even have time to think about what it was she wanted and needed because she was just so busy doing what everyone else wanted her to do. Stop the vampire apocalypse. Save the world. Kill Dick. All these goals, all these expectations… all the pressure… and no one to confide in about any of it.

“I see how it is weighing on you, Barbara. I see the way it gnaws at you. I know that pain,” Dick told her, walking towards her now. She held the stake up defensively but didn’t move as he placed his hands softly on her arms. “I never asked for this. I was changed. I never desired this. I… I tried… tried to do the best I could…” he was looking at the ground now, and she swore she saw tears falling down onto his trench coat. “There was so much pressure. Everyone… expected so much from me. I was their King. They expected me to lead them. To be the symbol of their freedom, but I… I never asked for this life. Never wanted it. I just wanted…” Dick was silent for a moment before continuing on, “I just wanted my life back. But I knew once I’d become this… there was no going back. So, I gave into the pressure. To what they wanted. Embraced it because I thought it was my only option. Assumed it was all I could do,” he explained to her.

Then he reached up and took her hands in his. He made no effort to remove the stake from them. Didn’t even try to encourage her to drop it of her own free will either. He just clasped his hands around hers as a lover might do if their love was holding onto a cup or a phone or some other mundane object.

“But I never lost hope. Even… even when… when I thought… when I knew I could never be the man I once was… when I knew I was beyond saving… I had hope that maybe there was still a chance things could be better. I had hope that we could make it better,” he spoke in a tone that made her heart weep. “Barbara… I might be the King of Vampires, but I’m not strong. I was weak, and I cracked under the pressure. But you… look at you…” he started, and he lifted his face up to look into her eyes. His expression was one of admiration and devotion, and she could now see that he had, indeed been crying, “Despite all the pressure you have faced… all the battles you have had to fight… you came here. You fought your way here and never abandoned your fight. You never let the pressure break you. You risk your life for those you love time and time again. It is one of the many things I love about you,” he told her, and the twinkle in his eyes reminded her of the look of young love. “We can stop this, Barbara. Together we can end the fighting. The pain. The pressure. I want that for this world. I want it for us. And I know you want it too. I can see it in your eyes,” he said, his voice cracking and making it sound like a plea rather than a sentence.

“Dick…” Barbara began, but Dick gripped her hands tighter. Not enough to hurt or damage, but so that the hold was firm.

“Tell me I am wrong, Barbara. Tell me that I am wrong. Tell me that you don’t want that too. Tell me that you don’t want to try to change the world together. To fight side by side like before. Tell me that you don’t want to be by my side… and… and I shall not ask again,” he set out. The tears were streaming faster down his face now, and Barbara knew that they were doing the same on hers.

She wanted to tell him that he was wrong. She wanted to tell him that she hated him. That she wanted nothing to do with him. Wanted to tell him that she could fix the world without him, because it was true. She could. She had friends and allies who would help her. That is what they came there to do, right? Kill Dick and save the world. Bring back the sun and set things right. She could do it without him. It could be done without him. Even if he was right about him just being replaced by whoever was next in line, they could just kill them too. Keep going until whoever was in charge would listen to them. It would be exhausting work, but they could do it. There had to be some vampire who would work with them. Who could take over Dick’s position and be willing to assist them in trying to turn the world back to how it was before everything happened. But… but even though she knew it was possible…

She knew as well that she couldn’t tell him he was wrong, because it would be a lie. She did want that. She longed for it. She had tried to fight that truth for so long but now… with him right in front of her… it was hard enough just to breathe, never mind trying to convince herself she didn’t want this. Didn’t want him. Because she did. God, she did. She loved him. Wanted him. Craved him. It was wrong and she knew it was but that didn’t stop her from wanting, craving, and loving him. Didn’t stop her from wanting to accept his offer. Maybe he was telling the truth? If he was… then… then the fighting could stop. They wouldn’t have to kill anyone. They could work with the vampires to bring about a world where vampires and humans could live together in peace. If any tried to resist, Dick could simply order them to stand down. There would be no more need for bloodshed or death. No more fighting and killing. They could… finally rest. They could save the world together… help build a new, better one… and he didn’t have to die. He was offering her a way that she could still help everyone who was left to help… all while not having to sacrifice her desires to do it. He was offering her a way out. Out of the pain and misery. Of the overwhelming, crushing, suffocating pressure that threatened to destroy her. He was offering… everything.

“As you command, my Queen.”

It was true, wasn’t it? He really was prepared to give her the world, wasn’t he? He’d done everything she requested so far since they’d arrived. Had made no move to attack her or harm her. He’d been polite and kind to her. He’d been understanding. He… saw her pain in a way no one else did. She thought about the dream she’d had a while back. The one where he’d called her his queen. The one where he was going to turn her. She’d woken up in such a state of panic but not because she hadn’t enjoyed the dream… but rather because she had. She’d wanted him to do that. To turn her. To make her his queen so she could be by his side. Rule with him. She wanted it, and she despised herself for wanting it but… but here… standing in front of him in reality… with it playing out like the dreams she’d had so many times before… she wasn’t sure that she could resist it any longer. She was so tired. Of all of it. She just… wanted to give in to it.

And so, give in she did.

“Do it,” she whispered to him, and she watched as his eyes widened.

“What?” he stammered, and she had to hold back a laugh. He looked so confused and shocked. Goofy almost, like the old Dick Grayson. It seemed out of place with his whole “Vampire King” outfit, but it made it almost more amusing.

“Do it. I… I want you to do it,” she repeated, and she saw him smile.

“As you wish,” he softly spoke, and then he lifted her chin with one hand, tilting it to the side so he could have access to her neck. She expected him to go right in for the bite but instead he began to pepper her neck with passionate, gentle, loving kisses. His other hand rested on the small of her back, holding her close to him. Like a lover’s embrace. He left a few more kisses before moving back only a little bit. “Are you certain this is what you want?” he asked, and she nodded. She felt him nod as well, and then, gentle as he could, he sunk his teeth into her neck.

The pain was not as terrible as she had thought it would be. It stung at first, despite his best attempts to minimize her discomfort, but then the pain subsided. It was a strange sensation, feeling the blood leaving her body. Her head felt slightly light as he drank from her, and she was grateful that he was still holding her, as she wasn’t certain she’d be able to keep herself balanced without it. Time felt as though it was inching instead of moving at its normal pace, and while she was sure he was only drinking from her for a minute at the most, it felt much longer than that. Not only that but… the world around her seemed to fade into nothing. Before she could hear Harley’s shouts of protest but now… it was quiet. She did not feel the breeze from outside, nor did she hear the swishing of the curtains. It was as though the only things which existed in that moment were her, Dick, and her transformation.

Eventually, Dick stood up and stepped in front of Barbara. Barbara collapsed to the ground, suddenly feeling extremely weak. As though she had been starving for weeks. As though she had no nutrients in her body. Her world felt as though it was spinning, and she groaned.

“You’re dying. Drink,” she heard Dick instruct. His voice sounded hazy and muffled, and when she looked up, her vision was blurred. She could make out the outline of his wrist though, and she fumbled around, managing to grab hold of it. She sunk her teeth, which were now as sharp as his, into his wrist, and heard him stifle a grunt of pain. She drank a little, the taste much sweeter than she’d expected. Her stomach growled for more, and so she indulged her thirst. He allowed her to continue for quite some time before gently tugging his wrist, signalling for her to let go. She did, and the change was instant. Her body felt alive. More alive than she’d felt in… well… ever.

“What did you do to her, you monster?”

Her attention was brought to Harley, who was looking at Dick with hatred and anger in her eyes. Dick snarled at her, fangs visible once more and anger in those dazzling crimson eyes of his. She saw him opening his mouth to speak, but she jumped in instead.

“He gave me what I wanted, Harley. What I’d asked him for,” Barbara told her, and Harley looked… betrayed. It was a look that stabbed Barbara deep in the heart.

“But…” Harley started, but Barbara raised her hand.

“I know… but this is for the best, Harley. We can help people this way. Make a better world,” she explained. Harley shook her head.

“Oh, Barbie… can’t ya see he’s playing you for a fool?” Harley winced, and Barbara shook her head. She wanted to explain everything, how she knew Dick wasn’t lying, how she trusted him… but she knew Harley would never understand. And she’d made her choice. There was no going back. She could only hope now that, with time, Harley would come to understand her decision. She looked to Dick, hoping he’d understand what she needed, and he nodded.

“Diana!” he called, and Wonder Woman entered the room. “Please see Ms. Quinn out. Ensure she and her companions make it safely out of the city and inform everyone that they are now off limits. Inform them that a truce has been made…” he began, before pulling Barbara close to him and kissing her passionately, “And tell them that they now have a Queen along with their King.”

“Yes, my Lord,” Diana replied, bowing her head before grabbing a protesting Harley Quinn and dragging her out of the room. Barbara looked down at the ground, the pain of seeing her companion so distraught over her decision still stinging deeply.

“She will understand. They all will. Once they see the good we will do, they will understand why you did what you did,” Dick comforted.

“You did mean what you said, right? About wanting to better this world?” she asked, and he nodded.

“I did. And with you here… I think we can do it,” he replied. She smiled, but then it turned into a frown as a question came to mind.

“Dick… if… if you… if you wanted to make a truce all along… to try and make things better… why not just tell me that? Why do the round-about thing and be so cryptic? Why not just tell me when you had visited me in my dreams?” she asked him, and he coughed awkwardly. He stepped back and rubbed his neck with one hand.

“About that… I was going to ask earlier but… dreams?” he responded, and she blinked in surprise and then furrowed her brows.

“Yes. Dreams. The ones you’ve been sending me. The ones about… well… this. You know. Me coming here to kill you. You telling me I didn’t actually come to kill you. You convincing me not to kill you. You biting me and turning me into the Vampire Queen…” she elaborated. She thought about what normally happened in the dream after that, and a deep blush covered her face. She figured that he likely didn’t need all those details. That he’d figure it out from what she’d said. But Dick only shook his head.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you are talking about,” he told her, and she gapped at this.

“What? But… you… you said you visited me!” she cried out, and he chuckled nervously.

“Yes… I… might have lied about that…” he admitted.

“WHAT?!??!”

“I had no idea what you were talking about, but if you recall, I was in the middle of dealing with Ms. Quinn, so I might have made up a small fib to… move things along…”

“Oh my gosh…” Barbara groaned in annoyance. She placed her head in her hands, took a moment to breathe, and then looked back up. When she did, she saw that Dick was smirking at her. It was an amused smirk.

“So… you were dreaming of me, were you?” he teased, and Barbara rolled her eyes.

“How are you still this irritating and immature? You are the Vampire King,” she shot back, and he gasped dramatically.

“Excuse me. I am not the one who assumed that her boyfriend was sending her magical dreams with his vampire powers to try and lure her to his castle,” he responded, and she groaned again.

“Well, when you say it like that…” she sighed, but that sigh was quickly cut off when he made his way towards her with impressive speed and pinned her to the wall behind her. He used one hand to lift her chin up, and his eyes sparkled in the dim lighting.

“I am curious though… earlier when you were talking about these dreams you’ve been having… you blushed quite deeply. Tell me…” he leaned in closer to whisper, “Was me turning you all that happened in those delectable dreams of yours?”

“I…” Barbara began, her mouth dry and her thoughts jumbled.

“Because if your blush was any indication, I would guess that becoming the Vampire Queen wasn’t the only desire that found its way into your dreams, was it?” he purred, and she bit her lip.

“Maybe not…” she half-admitted, and he chuckled. The sound seemed to bounce off every wall in the room and reverberate through every cell of her body.

“Well… seeing as you did come here to kill me… and I did convince you not to… and I did turn you, and now you are the Vampire Queen… I see no reason we can’t make all your dreams come true, my Queen,” he cooed sweetly, and she shivered. Memories of the dreams she’d had night after night came flooding back, and if her heart still beat, she was sure it would be fluttering madly. She swallowed hard, but then licked her lips, drew in a breath, and answered.

“I don’t see any reason we couldn’t do that either,” she whispered to him, and she felt him smirk against her skin. He moved back and then dove in for a passionate kiss. Barbara shut her eyes, allowing the world around her to fade away. Allowing herself to be entirely in the moment. As his lips pressed against hers, and hers against his, she let herself go. Let go of the pressure. Of the stress. Of the strain. She did not know what the future held for them. For the world. For anyone. But now… she didn’t have to. Now all she had to focus on was the here and now. The noise was drowned out by the serenity of the moment… and Barbara didn’t care if that moment would last a second or a lifetime. She didn’t worry about the future or the world outside that room. All she focused on was her and Dick and what they wanted to do, because she knew that they had an eternity now to figure out the rest. There was always a tomorrow, and now, thanks to what they’d done, they had plenty more of those to fix everything. So for now… Barbara was going to do what she wanted to. Tomorrow she could worry about everything but for today… for now… she was more than happy to be wrapped in the tender embrace of the man who she adored, and who adored her in kind.

She felt his fangs pierce her lip and when he pulled away from the kiss, she saw her blood on his lips. But the sight did not bother her, nor did it frighten her. For those fangs were no longer something she had to fear, but rather something they both had. The thirst for blood was no longer something alien to her, but now something they shared. The sight of blood was no longer something that bothered her, but rather now it was something that thrilled her. That made her crave more. But more so than that… when his tongue ran over that blood and he smiled at her… she knew it was not from hunger or blood-lust… but rather from love and affection. Tasting her blood meant “I love you”. The red of her blood… it wasn’t just food to him… no… now… with their new bond… their new connection… she knew what the red meant to them. What it meant now that they both shared a need for blood. Now that they were both forever changed. The red wasn’t just food… no…

The red meant “I love you.”

And with that thought in mind, she pulled him close, tasted her own blood upon his lips, kissed him deeply, and eagerly awaited what the night had in store for the Vampire King and his new Queen.

#dc comics #dc vs. vampires #vampire king dick grayson #dick grayson #barbara gordon #vampire dick grayson #dc vs. vampires issue 12 #gothic romance #fanfic #fanfiction #creative writing

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cupidquinn-moved · 2 years

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A few things to know about my treatment of Harley and the DCU (ie: the movies and shit)

— For as much as I still like the og Susquad for the sake of it being just...ridiculous and a lot of the aesthetic (look, we can go back and forth about Harley and sexualization until the planet’s heat death, but Harley has always been portrayed as a sexy girl that wore sexy outfits, and you can say that Ayer was probably not thinking about her agency as a person to dress however the fuck she wanted, but it’s how I choose to interpret it. Now, I’m not saying it’s wrong to interpret her as an oversexualized character, but I also think we need to sit down and have a long conversation about women simply existing in society is often sexualized without putting her in high heel sneakers and booty shorts), I felt really weird about the implication that she was somehow involved or complicit in Jason Todd’s death. Which oh boy, let me talk about that. Harley wasn’t even a character yet when Death in the Family came out, so it’s often ignored in her canon/fanon as a general rule. Now, most of the comics I’ve read with Harley in them hasn’t broached the matter, and in fan discourse, her involvement in it seems to be written off as a) it was before they got together b) it was the straw that broke the camel’s back and she bounced before things got crazy (and she feels bad that she wasn’t strong enough at that point to take Jason with her) or c) it was during one of their breaks, the whole situation actually attributed to the Jarley trope that Harley was the voice of reason between the two. ie: Had they been together, Harley would have never let it go that far, and because they’re broken up, Joker indulges in his darkest urges. Jarley shippers tend to take it a little further and say that Joker is in berserk mode as a way of coping with the breakup with Harley, like murder and mayhem is his ice cream pints and sad songs. Anyway, my point is, I super do not ascribe to Harley being any part of Jason’s death. Generally I just go with it happened before her or while they were on a break.

— I really like Birds of Prey so I’m pretty okay with referencing back to it if I’m rping with someone. Honestly, I will never know how to feel about Black Mask in that movie. I love it because I love Ewan and the aesthetic, and I like what he brought to the character. Yeah, yeah, evil gay, but I think we deserve the evil gays as much as we deserve the good gays in representation, and it should absolutely be noted that he never portrayed him as a predatory gay. He was never a threat because of his sexuality; he was a threat because he was a dangerously unhinged mob boss with a psychopath with a thing for knives and cutting people’s faces off at his beck and call. And yet......as much as I loved it, I also felt the dread of how chud nerds would bitch. Of course I forgot that they would be too busy being mad about women leading the film. lmao. Anyway, yes, my point is, I dig BoP

— Gunn’s Susquad is perfect and even though I have no idea where it sits in the DCU timeline, I’m kind of okay with it. I’ve watched the Susquad animations and read some comics, and it just kinda sits in its own little world. So I’m kinda whatever on how I fit it in to my canon. Oh look, I don’t have a lengthy tangent to go on.

tl:dr: Really, we’re all just vibes here.

#i am so sorry for how unhinged this is #meta

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0thsense · 7 months

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9/30/2023

When I'm feeling down, I am vigilant to find fault in others, because it makes me feel like I have something over them. A stupid act of desperation.

The time limit is approaching. I am not doing well. What does it mean to give up? I want to run myself to death.

Could I survive losing all of my family and friends? Should I prepare myself for it? It'll slowly happen at this pace. Was I wrong about things all those years ago? Maybe I should quicken the pace.

I can't open up to anyone. Noone will understand, and everyone will think they understand. Hell, some people probably think they understand already without me saying anything. Maybe the easiest way to be happy is to presume you understand about unhappiness you've never felt.

I wanted to understand my emotions. It might be too late, because now all I ever feel is anger and frustration. Base, useless, devastating emotions.

Some girl I used to know followed me on Strava the other day. Simply because she connected her account and auto followed all of her contacts. And I held onto that for the whole day. Pathetic.

Do I feel good when I beat myself up like this? Honestly it's a little cathartic but I'm not sure if it's healthy. I spend so much time thinking about the past, it fills every undistracted moment of my life. Will it ever stop?

So dramatic for someone who has lived such an objectively easy life. I don't really believe that, more just unsure. But everyone else would surely mock me for thinking I have such insane struggles in my circumstances. So I can't open up. They'll think I'm even more pathetic than they already do. A good way to get some one time pity and then having them slowly drift off. A bad way to quicken the pace.

Maybe I just need to get better at slapping on a smile and enthusiasm, so that it doesn't take so much effort every time. Just get good at it so it doesn't take all my energy, so I don't dread it every time. Just... become an automatic liar. Perfect.

I'm not looking forward to going to Japan soon. I'm worried my shell will break over those 2 weeks. Maybe I'm even more worried that it won't. Maybe I will just be boring because I'm getting tired having to put on enthusiasm all the time. Perfect.

My legs hurt from running today. Good. I wonder if how I feel right now is accurate. If I look back on this post it will probably read pretty terribly. Have I made no progress? Perfect timing to be depressed again for the holiday season. Last time I showed up one time and they thought I was fine. Because I guess I'm good at faking enthusiasm. Fuck you.

If I think rationally about it, it's my fault. It's hard to tell when someone's depressed, and it's even harder when I've been putting on masks for my whole life. But I can't tell them either. Probably the worst cases of depression are the ones where they have noone to tell. Because they can't trust anybody to care enough. I'm doing fine everyone.

God and I hate it even more because I become so self absorbed. Making me lose one of the few things I prided myself on: empathy and thinking of others. And I kept that pride even though it became unjustified. It hurts.

Maybe I can try to think of others in this post. Harley decided she wants to move back home, because of RTO. I wonder how she feels about that. I wonder if I chose that just because it's semi relevant to me. My dad might also be kinda depressed, I'm kinda worried. Probably partly due to me.

God, I can't think of much when I try to remember caring about others recently. You don't just feel worse, you become worse. Please let me care for others again. I am an asshole. I'm not willing to sacrifice myself to help others. I find something in them to condemn and justify this. Nobody helped Jerry, and everyone sure loves beating down on him.

Endroll was a nice game.

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crimeloyalty-arch · 2 years

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❛ i always kind of accepted that that’s all i’d ever know . ❜

today’s the day ⸻ the day the last child leaves their home. bryce moved into gotham u a week ago, and they’ve just finished moving jackie into her dorm in blüdhaven. the car feels so empty when they climb back inside -- and it’s not just the absence of bedding and pillows and notebooks that makes it feel that way. there’s no laughter, no arguing teenagers, no annoyed ‘mooooom’s, no ‘seriously’s when she leans over the center console to press a soft kiss to joker’s cheek as he puts the car in drive.

harley’s been dreading this day since the twins turned thirteen, the better part of five years filled with anxiety. it’s not the kids growing up that makes her uneasy -- harley would do anything for jackie & bryce, loves her children more fiercely than anything, but has hated being a mother. she won’t stop being one now that they’re in college, but she hopes that the shift from children to adults will ease things for all parties. in that regard, she’s relieved. it’s not the kids, not being an empty nester -- it’s that she asked the man beside her to make her a promise eighteen years ago, and he did, and now that’s over. i stayed because you asked me to. i’m here because you asked me to be.

it’s only in the last few years that she’s settled into this marriage, that she’s stopped waiting for him to sharpen their family into a blade. part of that is because she’s accepted that there is an expiration date to this -- that there are a finite number of nights where she’ll come home from the hospital to a house full of children and a husband. there’s some peace that comes with that, too -- the anxiety she feels when thinking about losing this, about selling the house, about being alone again is a dull throb, not the sharp pain she’s used to with him. he’s given her this. given her all she’s asked for. given her eighteen years. joker doesn’t love her like she always wanted him to -- not in the sweep her off her feet, take her to bed, tell her she’s enough for him way. but harley’s finally come to believe that he does love her, has loved her enough to stay, to have this family with her. that’s finally become enough for her, just as it’s all ending.

part of her wishes that bruce was here, if only because she knows she won’t lose him, even if she loses j. but the other part is glad to have one more moment that’s just the two of them, just this quiet silence where there’s finally no need to talk. harley turns on the radio, flips to some station touting its sinatra hour like it’s the most unique thing in the world. she wonders what it would be like to live a life without always thinking of endings.

they pull into their garage and harley climbs out of the passenger seat, heading up the steps to the door. “ i’m gonna shower, ” she calls over her shoulder, and she wishes so desperately that she could clue her younger self in on this great secret. she’d spent the first decade of their on-again, off-again relationship trying to coax joker into bed, convinced that if he wanted her enough, he would be able to love her. she’d believed wholeheartedly that desire and obsession would be enough to fix what was broken inside of her, that any kind of passion on his end would warm her freezing soul.

now she knows. this kind of quiet domestic intimacy has always been what she has needed -- having someone to whom she can announce the most mundane of tasks, knowing j will still be here when she steps out of the shower.

when she’s finished, when she’s dry and dressed, leggings and an oversized sweatshirt that she made bruce buy just so she could steal, she makes her way downstairs to his office.

“ hey, ” she says, settling onto the small couch across from his desk. it’s one of the many ways they’ve found to make this work -- she’s happy as long as she’s near him, he tolerates her so long as she stays mostly quiet on the couch. she’s got her laptop with her, setting it on her knees. she mindlessly clicks through amazon, looking for things to send to jackie & bryce. “ do you think jackie needs a microwave ramen cooker? ”

harley makes her way through a few more buzzfeed lists of ‘college essentials,’ then looks up from her laptop.

“ have you decided? ” she asks softly, no judgement in the question. “ if you want a divorce? now that it’s done? now that it’s just christmases and summers? ”

divorce is a tricky word -- they’re not legally married ; they never have been. joker doesn’t exist on paper -- it’s bruce’s name on the twins’ birth certificates. but he knows what she means -- separate homes, separate lives. it’s a prospect that had terrified her, months ago -- sent her into a spiral that had culminated in her pleading for another baby, another eighteen years. she’s glad, now, that he said no. glad he didn’t let her put herself through this all over again. harley knows she wouldn’t have survived a second pregnancy.

now, the prospect of divorce just makes her heart ache. still, she longs for the finality of it : yes or no. she doesn’t want this hanging over her head anymore -- wants to start putting herself back together again, if he no longer wants to share this life with her. she’s tired of grieving something that’s still alive.

“ harley, ” he says, not looking up from what he’s working on.

“ j, ” she responds, just as soft as the first time. there’s no anger, no accusation, no attempt at guilt. it’s just a question. this is just a question. “ did you ever think we’d end up here? ”

he finally looks up at her, pen still in his hand. she feels seen -- feels like she’s seeing him. it’s something she never thought would be possible -- peace.

❛ i always kind of accepted that that’s all i’d ever know, ❜ he offers, and she knows exactly what he means. before the twins, she had felt trapped in an infinite cycle of cruelty. one of them would break it, only to be dragged back in by the other. she’s old enough now to admit that it wasn’t always him -- that sometimes, she pulled him back under just as he was coming up for air.

harley nods, slowly. eighteen years -- that’s what they’d agreed on. they’d both imagined eighteen awful years, always at odds. they hadn’t expected to find a way to live with each other -- she realizes that he doesn’t know, either. doesn’t know what comes next.

she stands, tucking her laptop under her arm, then walks over to his desk and kisses his forehead.

“ okay. well -- i love you. and i like living with you. but i’ve got bruce either way, so -- let me know when you decide, okay? ”

for just a second, she puts her hand on his shoulder, squeezing softly -- and then she’s leaving, but not before she calls, “ i think i’m gonna order thai food and watch love island reruns. text me if you want something, ” over her shoulder

#there's not ( probably ) technically a college in blüdhaven but i don't care #i'd just like to disclaim that this may /entirely/ be the fantasy joker that harleen has constructed in her head #but i support her - girlie has to do what it takes to survive !#⸻ i rewind the tape but all it does is pause — writing.#⸻ i’d give you my wild ; give you a child — v * crimefamily.

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kitty-of-mischief · 2 years

Text

House of the Rising Sun

(Ask and ye shall receive. Sorry in advance for teasing the romance XD Chapter 3 will have it I promise.)

@vulgar-display-of-escapism here it is 😁

Chapter 2

Kat's interview went smoothly and with the help of having to stay a couple weeks at the clubhouse while waiting for a place, the girls were moved into two little houses next door to each other that were just right for the time being. Gabrielle easily found a job at the hospital in administration while Kat was enjoying her start at the bakery. When the girls were not working, they were under the watchful eyes of the SamCro family. Once the girls were settled, as promised with an extra incentive of good nature, each of the girls were allowed to pick a car from Darby's lot. Kat went with a hunter green Dodge Journey while Gabrielle went with a black Honda CRV, both fully decked out and towed from the car lot by the Sons. The girls protested this as they were riding back in the trucks for the want of driving their cars.

"Sweet jesus, you're so awful. Mature and yet so not at the same time." She giggled as he kept his hand on her side and she leaned her head over on his shoulder while they drove.

"If he fucks us with these cars, his balls are gonna be on a first class trip through the mail system to his kids." Kat said colorfully as she sat in the middle by Chibs as he drove.

"Luffie, it's fer yer own protection. I'd hate fer that purdy lil everything to be hurtin' cuz of something not done by ol' Chibs." He smirked while resting his free arm around her waist and making her squirm and audibly emit graphic sounds of happiness as he ghosts his fingers on her right side. He captured her heart without effort but he still knew every way to make the butterflies run wild in her stomach.

"Honestly darlin, ye make me feel young at heart. I thought ye was eyeing on Opie and didnae think I had a shot in Hell." Chibs admitted.

"You got this little lass wrapped around yer wee pinky and then some, Chibby." She grinned as he squeezed her to him.

"Mmm ah love it when ye start that accent, sounds so sexy and natural when ye do it." He beamed proudly.

"Oh I know you boys are doing what's best. Just dreading the long night shift tonight at the hospital." She drags her hands down her face in annoyance

"I know you wanted to drive your car sweetheart." Dan looked apologetic as Gabrielle pouted in the seat beside him in the second truck. "We gotta make sure this isn't an inside thing trying to hurt you girls."

"Aww that's right I forgot you were working tonight. We get to spend a little time together before your shift yeah?" Dan looked at her for a second before slowly turning a corner behind Chibs as they got to the garage.

"Of course we will. Why what's up?" She looked up at him curiously.

"We're going on a charter run over in San Juan. Be gone a couple days again." He sighed, holding his arm around her as he pulls up beside Chibs in the parking lot to drop the car and truck off.

"Well that kind of works out sweetie. I'll be pulling overnight shifts all weekend until I'm off on Sunday and Monday." Gabrielle slipped out of the cab as he opened the door for them to get out.

"Perfect actually. We'll be back Sunday morning." He keeps his arm around her as Chibs and Kat approach them. "What time are we leaving tonight?"

"Righ' at seven, boyo. Got a bit o'er three hours to spend with yer lass." Chibs smiles, pulling out his wallet and hands over a few bills, "Dinner's on me tonite."

"Lookit, he's such a sook." Kat grins while hugging on Chibs' waist with both arms around him.

"Chibs really? Aww man thanks. C'mon Gabrielle!" He grinned as he pulled Gabrielle with him towards his bike.

"You should reward him for being so generous to us, sis!" Gabrielle wiggled her fingers as her and Dan climbed onto his black and chrome Harley, speeding off out of the parking lot.

"Ye heard the lass, reward yer ole man." He grinned his cheeky grin with his dimples pronounced knowing full and well what it did to her.

"Well then let's head to my house and I will. Don't forget to tell them to have our vehicles ready before tomorrow." She moves around in front of him and lets her hands grab his firm backside.

"Aye, love." He returns the favor to hers before pulling her with him over to the garage before they head out.

"Should we have told him our plan to order in or nah?" Dan said as he pulled Gabrielle closer to him as they were in their skivvies under the sheets.

"Nah, we'll go out to make sure he knows it was very very appreciated." She giggles while laying her chest against him and kissing him softly before snuggling under his chin. "Unfortunate that we have to part again for a couple of days."

"It should be alright sweetheart. Just a quick run and we'll be back before ya know we're gone." He ghosts his fingers over her arm and shoulder absent-mindedly as they just lay for a bit longer before the cursed alarm goes off that it's an hour before Gabrielle's shift.

"Oh I'm not worried just gonna miss you as always." She sighs while sitting up and pulling his shirt on as she walks into the bathroom for a quick clean up and change.

"You know I'll be thinking of only you the whole time I'm gone." He pushes himself up and goes about getting dressed as well.

"I know, Daniel. You better be good while you're gone." She grinned as she flung something at him from the bathroom.

"Agh." He laughed before his cell started vibrating and blasting in his pocket, he picked it up, "Hey, I'm fixing to be- His words stopped when Jax interrupted him on the other line.

"There's been a little change of plans. Can you get up here quick?" Jax said on the phone to him.

"Yep, just gotta throw on my socks and shoes! Go get her warmed up for us." Dan smiled at her reply as he headed out the door, still confused by Jax’s statement.

"Yeah, I'll just be dropping Gabrielle at the hospital for her shift."

"Alright, see you soon." Jax hung up before Dan could even begin to question his tone. "You ready love?"

The group was gathering outside of the garage as they had just finished giving the girls’ vehicles a once over.

"I think it's smarter this way if they have someone watching them while we're gone." Clay sighed as they were standing between their vehicles. "Good that they were not messed up but still, I don't trust Darby even if he didn't know."

"I'm glad that our vehicles are good to go before y'all have to leave." Kat sighs while laying her head still on Chibs' stomach while they stand in a circle talking around the vehicles.

"Lass, ye weren't frowning fer the last two hours, chin up. Ye know I'm comin' back ta ye." He rests his arms around her, rolling his eyes with a smile as the others chuckled at her attitude.

"Ah but ye forget. I'm a spoiled little brat because of the last two hours too." She turns her head up to face him with a shit-eating grin.

"Well I mean if ya have to sit this one out Chibs to put your old lady in line..." Clay raises his hands with a mess of a grin. "You'll get your cut when we get back."

"I dannae. Ah like the idea of a lady waiting on me fer a change." He grins down at her as he caresses her cheek.

"Hmph." She huffs while burying her face in his kutte as Dan was just pulling in at the clubhouse. Dan slowly rolled to a stop, parking the bike and dismounting after he shut it off.

"Hey kiddo, ye get to stay back this time to keep yer eye on the girls if ye wannae." Chibs said as he pulled Kat with him and over to his bike.

"Seriously?" He said, smiling really wide, "I mean. Yeah I can do that, look after the girls. I know that would make Gabrielle's morning when she gets off work."

"Aw lookit." Chibs chuckles at his excitement. "Now ah'm gonna miss my lass even more."

"Yep. You're staying too, Chibs. Tig, gather the others and get them ready to ride. You two, keep the girls safe because we know they're coming back around." Clay patted the two members on the back before he, Jax, Opie, Tig and a few others lingering went to their cycles to get ready for the ride.

"Lass, yer gonna be bad for bizzo." Chibs smiles, thankful he got ordered to stay with her as she squeezes him excitedly in a hug. "C'mere give yer old man some love." He peppers kisses on her cheeks and lips for a moment.

"See? The pout gets anything done if I want it. C'mon." She pulls him over towards his cycle, "I gotta get up early for work." No protests from Chibs as she allowed him to lead but he caught a glimpse of a couple of odd fellows walking near the gates. All dressed in black and taking glances over at them and he couldn't shake the feeling something was off about them.

Gabrielle yawned as she was heading out the door of being off at 7 AM for another shift done. With a groan, she half expected Kat to be late for her morning break of usually picking her up when Dan was gone but when she turned to see Dan standing there in a rolled up sleeved white shirt, black denim and a bouquet of flowers next to his truck. She couldn't hide the squeal she had and surge of energy as she ran over and jumped in his arms with him catching her and holding her tightly to him.

"I thought you were going on a run!?" She leaned up, excitement strewn all over her face in surprise.

"Surprise babygirl, I'm here to pick you up and-

As they were talking two loud explosions rang out which startled them to turn and look in the direction of the sound. Black smoke started to billow up into the sky and without hesitation, they climbed into his truck and immediately headed off for it. When they found out where it was, Gabrielle screamed as she saw her house and her sister's house up in flames. Dan held her as she buried her face into his chest as he stopped a ways from it.

"Oh shit." Dan mumbled as he rolled his window down as Chibs was rolling up on his motorcycle with Kat behind him.

"Mibby it wa' a gud thin we stayed kiddo." Chibs said as Kat was sobbing on his shoulder while they sat there and stared at the scene while sirens started to blare to signal that the cops, firetrucks and ambulances were hot on the scene. "Call Jax, I'm calling Clay." Chibs and Dan both flipped their phones out dialing frantically. Gabrielle got out the truck on the opposite side and Kat climbed off the back of the bike and both girls embraced in front of the truck and Kat turned her head towards the blaze, unsure of what they were about to face.

Dan stood near the scene of first responders with his arms around Gabrielle, trying to comfort her in any way he could for the moment.

Kat was leaned against the police car as she watched the smoldering remains of her house billowing smoke out under the water of the firehoses. A spark of venom flowed in her veins as she watched her memories going up in the smoke and Deputy Hale came over to talk to her but she ignored every word he said. She simply glanced at him and moved away from the car to walk down the road away from it all. Even Chibs couldn't make this hurt go away right at the moment and her feet carried her a few blocks away from the scene.

"We're gonna do everything we can to find out who did this." Gabrielle had her face leaned against Dan while Deputy Hale spoke to her. "I don't like to get you boys involved in things like this....but we might need to."

"Whatever you need, we'll do." Clay said as him and the rest of his crew walked up to the scene. "Get her back to the clubhouse, Dan. Where's Kat?" They all looked around, finally realizing she was not near them at all.

"Ah shite." Chibs scrunched his face up at the deputy, "She wa' talkin' ta Hale. Whir's Kat?"

"She took off walking down Cherrybrook Lane, I don't know where she went after that. She didn't talk or say anything that would help the case." He crossed his arms in slight annoyance.

"Fer fecks sake, ye let ma' old lady dander off?" Chibs started to go at him but Opie and Jax walked up at the opportune moment to get a hold of him. "Yer lucky. Tha' badge saved yer life today, eejit."

"Come on, let's go find her Chibs." Jax patted his back while glaring at Hale. "We always got to to keep their messes cleaned up." The three of them went to their bikes and took off down separate roads to try to locate Kat.

When the boys met up on their cycles at the park, they saw her sitting on a swing with her back to them, very lightly moving in the swing. She stared at the ground, a mixture of anger and pain on her face with tears streaming down. Though she was aware of the engine noise, she wasn't aware they had stopped at the park. Exchanging glances, Chibs nodded to the two and they backed out and drove away while he shut his bike off and parked it, digging out a smoke from his pack and lighting it up before walking over to the swings.

"Hey, beautiful." His soft but rugged tone brought her back to reality as she glanced up from the ground, smiling to see him but carrying so much pain in her eyes. "Gonnae no dae that again, love."

"Chibs." She mumbled mixed with a whimper as he knelt down in front of her and she whispered in fear of someone hearing, "What is so bad about me and my sister that people are trying to kill us?"

"Not a damn thing. Ah'm thinkin' someone hurtin' ye to get to me lass." The pain reflects in his eyes and she reaches out to embrace him, clinging onto him. "Ah'm sorry."

"It's not your fault. Whoever is trying to hurt you already hurt me worse." She leans back to look at him, "I'm with you, Filip." She rolled his name off her tongue and made him smile.

"Tha gràdh cho mòr agam ort." He spoke to her which made her eyes widen in surprise. "Wut?"

"Speak like that more often please even if I don’t understand." She met his face with a soft kiss, "And thank you for coming to find me."

"Well Jackie boy and Ope were with me but I sent them on to the clubhouse. Ye ready to go sugartits?" She squealed at the nickname and squirmed around in his arms as he held her while walking towards the bike. "Wha? They're sweet n juice, luffie."

"As much as I would love to you to defile me in luxurious debaucheries right now to make my pain go away, we gotta go back to the clubhouse don't we?" She sees his eyes widen at her words.

"Keep talkin' that way darlin, I migh' defile you at the clubhouse." He pulls her to him and lays a sweet, gentle kiss on her lips which stirs up those wild butterflies in her stomach. Letting him pull her along, they head back to his bike and drove off for the clubhouse.

Gabrielle sighed as she clung onto Dan while they road back to the clubhouse, her head laying on his back and for a moment, her fears and worries were disappearing in the wind. 'Who wants us dead and why?' She thought as she pondered anyone and everyone she had come into contact with before Charming. When they rolled up into the parking lot, he occupied his usual spot and they both walked in to join the rest of Samcro. Gabrielle rushed over when she saw Opie and Jax had already made it back.

"Did you guys find my sister?" She asked them.

"Chibs brought her back, they're in the other room with Clay right now. Something going on bigger than we thought." Jax informed them, "You two might want to go join them."

Cautiously, Dan pulled Gabrielle towards the meeting room where Clay and Chibs were talking and Kat was sitting at the back of the room but listening to every word. Gabrielle kissed Dan's cheek before going over and sitting with her sister while he joined them at the table.

"Dan, you and Juice are good with that computer shit right?" He nodded to Clay, "You and him start running surveillance on the girls wherever they go. Someone has to be following them to know who they're with and where they are. If able to, get access to any of the cameras in town and where they've been."

"It's gonna take a little bit but I'm sure we can get it done. Why would someone be trying to hurt the girls?"

"Dannae yet. We goan check a couple hunches but nothin' solid yet." Chibs looked at Clay like he was unsure to say the hunches to him just yet.

"So, ladies. Come here please." Clay beckoned for them and they got up, going to their respective men's sides to occupy the seat. "Talk. What, where and when the last three days?"

"Work, the clubhouse and home with Chibs. There was a guy who was unfamiliar at work and he had an Irish accent but I didn't think anything of it. He's been there the last three or four mornings that I've worked." Kat saw the change in Chibs' breathing and behavior when she said "Irish".

"Aw shite." Chibs muttered under his breath. "Clay, ye know whit happens when them bastards show up in Charming."

"Exactly what has been happening only this time, no one has died....yet." Clay rubs his face in annoyance.

"Wait....this time?" Gabrielle chimed in. "Start talking someone! Are we gonna die? Like..." Dan placed his arm around her shoulders protectively.

"No one's dying on my watch. I think it's best you girls stay at the clubhouse so we can protect you and when you have to leave, we will have protective detail with you. I know the hospital isn't a big fan of us, Gabrielle, but it's to keep you alive."

"You gonna explain this to me later?" Kat said while turning Chibs' face towards her, the pain written all over it. In response, his silence as he pulled her close to him and buried his face in her shoulder made her a bit apprehensive of the situation. "I'm gonna be alright, I got my Scottish prince charming to keep me safe."

"Aye, true enuff lass. It doesn't make me worry any less." He pulled his head back and rested his hand to her cheek. "Those clarty Irish bastards are dangerous."

Gabrielle found little peace in the knowledge that someone was after them and despite Dan and a few other Sons keeping watching on her, she felt a sickening feeling something bad was going to come of this soon. More time she spent working, less time she spent outside of the hospital except for rest and food at the clubhouse. After a few days, it finally got to her and she had to get out and get some space to clear her head. She was heading out the clubhouse like she was going to work but instead, she turned the opposite way and found herself driving towards the city limits of Charming. A motorcycle hot on her tail made her sigh as she found an empty parking lot to pull into and parked, getting out of the car with Dan pulling in behind her and parking his bike.

"I can't. I can't take the stress, the paranoia, the wondering if I'm fixing to die!? Like how can someone live with that feeling every single day?!" Gabrielle sighed while gripping his kutte and burying her face into his chest. "This is madness."

"What are you doing!?" He walked over and just pulled her into his arms, Gabrielle breaking down in his arms.

"I'm so so sorry. I'm sorry you have to deal with this right now but I can't protect you if you leave and I wouldn't know what to do if I knew you weren't safe." He rubbed circles on her back. "I could come with you and we can go for a few days. Do it the right way so we know that we can get it eased off your mind."

"You would do that? Just leave with me for a while until this blows over or getting the all clear? I mean....could we?" Gabrielle looked up at him and he nodded.

"Let's go get our things and we can find a safe place to go for a while." He brushed her hair back from her face. "We can do this."

"I'll go work tonight and turn in my vacation time. We can do it all the right way." Gabrielle smiles through the pain she feels inside.

"I love you, Gabrielle." Dan whispered while stroking her cheek softy. "I got you."

"Love you too Dan." She whispered back, "Meet you at the clubhouse?" They both dashed to their vehicles. Gabrielle turned her key and the car didn't do a thing, she tried again and hear a hiss and ticking. She screamed and ran from the van towards Dan on his bike. He looked up just in time to see the explosion knock her into him and he flew back off his bike with her.

"WHO?" Kat had her arms crossed as she sat in a chair surrounded by the Samcro family in the waiting room of the hospital. Her sister and Dan had been taken to St Thomas while Kat was at work. She left and practically ran down the streets of Charming to get to the hospital before anyone could even catch up to her with the adrenaline rush she got from hearing that a car bomb had went off on her sister. "Who the fuck is trying to kill us?"

"Not here, Kat." Jax mumbled but the glare was deadly as she turned her gaze on him and he slunk back in his seat quietly.

"I better get a fucking answer tonight. My sister and Dan are in the hospital. No more of this "keeping you safe" bullshit." Kat got up from the seat and went straight out of the ER doors to the corner of the building and sat down on the curb, lighting up a smoke and trying to calm herself down enough to level out.

Chibs felt it was his responsibility to go and tell her. He looked around at the boys and Clay gave him the nod. He got up from his chair and walked out the doors to go find her. He slowed his pace when he saw her smoking and sitting on the curb at the edge of the building. With a sigh, he rubbed his face as he approached her and sat down next to her.

"Ye deserve the answers, darlin. So it's aboot to get uglier than it seems." He looked off and took a deep breath. "The bastard that's been comin' in the bakery, lass. I saw him there today. He's bad news and he's supposed to be on good terms wit us. IRA." Kat's eyes grew in size as she finally turned her head towards him. "I was excommunicated from em and moved here away from family and such. We started dealin' guns for em."

"Baby." She interrupted him, "I don't have to know anymore if you don't want to tell me. So we're targets because they're pissed off."

"No, Ye gotta know love. Dan and me both were part of em but Dan left as well. He was good friends wit my son. I've not seen the lad in years." Chibs looked down, feeling shame for not telling her things sooner. "I kept it from ya cuz I thought I wa' protectin' ya. Looks like it wouldnae mattered either way."

"You have told me now." She scooted over to raise his chin up to look at her. "It's not your fault they chose to hurt us, they decided to hurt us because it hurts you and Danny boy. So now, what we gotta focus on is bringing you boys to the bakery. Sit down in neutral territory and figure this shit out because me and my sister are under the protection of SAMCRO."

"Ye got an idea there, sugartits." He looked at her face cracking into a smile and he felt a bit of relief.

"C'mon. Let's go check on my sister and Dan." She stands up and holds her hands out to him which he looks up at her and grabs her hands, pulling her down to straddling his lap and holds her there for a moment.

"Let me hold ye for a moment and then we will." He mutters softly, laying his forehead to hers, drinking in all of her with his eyes as he holds her like it's the last time he might.

#soa #sons of anarchy fic #chibs telford #fanfiction

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poetry-protest-pornography · 2 years

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A preview of an angsty (with a happy ending) dreamsharing WinterIron thing I'm working on:

The Space Between

Something… strange started happening while he was in cryo in Wakanda.

In general, James remembered very little from his time in Hydra's freezers; there was the occasional flash of pain, hints of bloody memories that the chair missed but time in storage would take care of eventually, and when he was taken out, the constant, lingering cold.

He didn't dream. He didn't notice the passing of time. He wasn't aware of anything at all.

So this new thing is... strange.

Stranger than he thinks the considerably kinder treatment and voluntary nature of his current situation can account for.

Because for the first time since he was drafted, James is dreaming, and they aren't nightmares.

His dreams are filled with friends and laughter and sun-warmed days, and a sense of family and belonging he only barely remembers but revels in in this dreamscape. There are quiet, lazy days, and hazy impressions of flying.

There are missions, where he fights alongside people he knows are the good guys, and he knows he's a part of them.

But weirder than that, is the fact that by his side in all of that, without fail, holding his hand, leaning into his side, laughing with him, holding him, filling up his space with an overwhelming feeling of security and love… is Tony Stark.

And though he was never before aware of time spent in cryo, the time in between these blissful dreams are sometimes now painfully lonely and empty, spent missing a life he's never lived, and is aware he never will.

But something about them feels like so much more than a dream; they're more like how memories feel while you're making them. It's in the familiarity in Tony's smile, and the comfortable teasing he and Rhodey do, and how Peter and Kamala and Riri and Harley all call him "old man" and pester him while he's cooking. In real life, James doesn't even know these kids, but he feels such a deep affection for them that that feels wrong. And it's that feeling that nags at him. That makes him wonder if these aren't some conjuration of his broken mind, if maybe they could be a sign of something good in him.

So he holds on to each dream desperately when he's aware enough, gratefully living a life he wants more and more, and dreading the in between.

#winteriron #tony x bucky #dream sharing

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harleyification · 2 years

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One time I read someone saying that a reason why Harley Keener couldn’t become Iron Lad was because he didn’t hate Tony, and Nathanial hated the guy a lot.

And I just sat there, for a good minute or two. And then, I thought. “Huh. So these people really do not understand Harley at all.” Cause let me tell you, that boy is constantly one Tony-ate-the-last-pineapple-pizza-slice step away from loathing the guy with every single bone in his body. Tony could forget to have Happy buy Harley’s favorite juice when he stays over for the summer, and that would be his villain origin story. Tony could say one wrong thing, and Harley could ignore him for MONTHS. Now, imagine Tony genuinely fucking up badly with the kid.

“Harley doesn’t hate Tony”, BUT HE CAN!!! AND HE WILL!!! VEHEMENTLY!!!! DOWN TO HIS SOUL LEVELS OF VITRIOL!!!! HARLEY COULD HOLD A GRUDGE LIKE NO ONE’S BUSINESS!!!

#I read fics where Harley immediately forgives someone and Im just like #Who. Are you writing. This aint him.#Harley is megamind levels of dramatic and petty #I Said this once and Ill SAY IT AGAIN:#Harley without a family is a dreadful Harley!!#Harley Keener #headcanons #Mcu #Marvel #Tony Stark #Irondad

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dreamylyfe-x · 3 years

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11x04: NIMBY Reactions

Oh my God, that’s the good stuff right there. I’ve been hanging on for the middle of the season, where I have felt pretty certain the tone -- with Gallavich particularly -- might shift and I was NOT disappointed.

So first thing’s first: though Mickey had barely anything to do with the A Plot (Milkoviches Next Door) I still thought this episode was the best Mickey-being-Mickey-as-I-know-and-love-him episode we’ve had yet. (Though fair warning, I thought 11x03 had some quality classic Mickey in it -- just mostly the scenes without Ian.)

Before we get started on Mickey, though, this is the second episode in a row where I’ve enjoyed the Frank plot? Granted, it was LARGELY Liam that I enjoyed, but I was still watching the Frank plot and that is a major shift from season 10, where I barely bothered.

But yeah. Ok. Mickey. This episode was such a great Mickey episode from start to finish. One of the things I love about Shameless is the whole thing where normal for kids living in desperate conditions, while very different from most people’s normal, is still normal for THEM. And I really enjoyed Mickey watching the Milkoviches move in while giving the Gallaghers key intel on exactly what they were seeing. And kinda understanding how messed up some of it was in real time. That’s a real experience people have -- being mid-story and suddenly thinking “Yeah. This is way more fucked up than I realized.”

I also enjoyed the several moments in the episode where Mickey overtly acknowledged that his family is insane, he just doesn’t like the Gallaghers looking down on him. Which: valid.

Speaking of -- finally we find out the state of the Mickey-Terry relationship. Which is: there isn’t one. Another thing I loved is that Mickey shares the desire to see his family move on, but he’s not going to bother engaging with it. He’s going to work on getting him and Ian out of there, and pay hardly any attention to his family. Love that for him.

I also love love LOVE that, now that he has a bead on something to do for money that doesn’t fill him with dread, Mickey is taking the same attitude he had when Ian was working and he wasn’t -- which is that he’s going to take care of things. As someone who was baffled at Mickey’s inaction and willingness to let Ian do all the work in the first few episodes, I really loved this. Because it’s consistent and it indicates that his world view just kinda like... Someone has to be taking care of the money part, and that might shift back and forth between him and Ian, but the result of the effort is going to be shared between them. I understand where Ian was coming from -- especially when Mickey kept returning to criminal enterprise -- but it’s nice to see a little more of how Mickey views things.

Also, I know this is very well observed, so I’m retreading well-worn ground, but the scene with the cereal. Gah. I love it. Ian regressing -- I know they gave us the shot of the bottle of Jamison, but I felt like they were getting their point across with the cereal and the cartoons. And Ian not answering or responding to Mickey right away was extremely evocative of Ian’s history of depressive episodes. I loved how forthright Ian was about how awful the prospect of finding another job was, because it’s covertly agreeing with everything Mickey was saying in the first few episodes, too.

There are so many little things I like about this scene. Mickey coming down the front stairs instead of the back, like he intuitively knows where Ian is at. Ian watching Harley Quinn cartoons, as both an in-joke AND as a believable cartoon choice. Mickey picking up the bottle, checking it’s weight and then just... moving it a little to the side. Mickey putting himself between Ian the TV. Mickey already having a plan for Ian. Just so much good stuff in there.

Also, let’s talk about Ian for a minute here. One reason I hesitate to call anything OOC with these two is that the book generally isn’t closed. I really didn’t get the “I’m on my honeymoon” stuff, but after this episode, it folds in a lot better with what is going on with these two. Another thing that folds in better is Ian’s mounting frustration -- which is VERY Ian. He starts out with this forced buoyancy -- we’re going to get out own place, you are going to get a legal job so you can stay out of prison, I am going to make this warehouse gig work, and even though I’m frustrated and losing patience, I’m still trying to talk things out, and touching your hand and trying to ground everything in the fact that we’re together and we love each other -- and then we see that get chipped away at. Ian’s paycheque reveals that he’s being scammed out of a living wage. Mickey takes the road less travelled and immediately brings in more money that he’s every going to be able to get through the jobs he can currently get as a parolee. Mickey isn’t gracious about this, and the tension ramps up and that four episodes later he’s just walking around with a well-established and throughly justified black cloud over his head.

The Milkovich’s really arrive like they’ve bought a White Trash in a Bag collection from Target. They seem to even have brought mattresses expressly for the front yard.

OMG, Mickey got a scene with Sandy (and Debbie). But honestly, my favourite beat is the look Franny gives Mickey after he says kids are idiots. I also love how Sandy joins Mickey in just not seeing a point in waging battle against their family.

Lip, this is a little thing, but you aren’t supposed to eat breakfast, brunch, lunch and dinner. Brunch ideally REDUCES the number of meals you eat. But the key brunch move is to order something you can’t/wouldn’t make at home. Do not pay $14 for eggs and toast.

So. Ok. I have seen some people very annoyed that Ian is so focused on Mickey not going back to prison, but I can’t see what is wrong with this. He just flat out isn't wrong to worry about it. It would be devastating if that happened. Mickey and Ian are extremely fortunate that he’s out at all. It’s a truly bizarre turn of events and I do not fault Ian for having a lot of concern about anything happening to jeopardize Mickey’s freedom. I also think this is confirmation that Ian just flat out doesn’t want to be without Mickey. I think he’s depressed -- and therefore extremely pessimistic -- in this episode, but there is far more indication that Ian wants Mickey around than that he doesn’t, so of course he’d be extremely focused on this concern. Also Cam puts some tremor onto “get sent back to prison” that really grabs my heart and squeezes.

Cam in the towel is just good news. Mickey’s adorable with the gun. This scene is cute.

This is the episode where I gave up on side-eying the Gemma-is-Superior running joke and just accepted it as kinda funny. Something about third-party confirmation. I dunno.

I enjoy the fact that Debbie apparently doesn’t know Sandy lives with them? Also, that feels like an Ian move. Gets boyfriend, moves in with boyfriend.

The fact that Mickey is low-key playing Ian to get him to join him in this MUCH more promising venture is my absolute favourite. Bless the director for that foreground Mickey shot. Bless Noel for that nuanced facial expression. Bless everyone involved in that moment. It is one of my favourite things ever.

I love that Ian’s whole reason for these outfits is so that Mickey will LOOK dangerous and not have to defend himself, thus staying out of trouble. That’s deeply, deeply sweet.

Another sign that something is even more wrong with Frank than usual when he fully forgets the entire trip to visit the Brotherhood.

I didn’t love V vs. Debbie but I really did enjoy Kev aligns with Frank, and also has a scene with Mickey. And that they weren’t silo’ed off on their own.

So the eventual reveal we get that the old lady loves having rough sex with Terry was not a surprise to me because a) Shameless, but b) because of Christian’s face. Christian’s facial expressions are among my favourite on the show right now.

I love this gif set by @sickness-health-all-that-shit. What can I say except “look! Ian is smiling!”

Mickey should be a better liar, but you know. He isn’t.

I do like that, in this moment, the things they both bring to the enterprise come together to create a new possibility. This is pretty much exactly what I HOPED was going to happen and I love to see it.

I think I’m going to ignore the Tami storyline because it was gross (not bad, but ... gross.) Also @fiona-fififi already wrote something that is much more comprehensive... I get the frustration, but just no part of me thinks Ian would allow himself to go where Tami did in examining what happened to her. Not at this point in his life. Which is sad, but very much in line with how Ian handles himself.

Um. Yeah. Carl. Glad you’re not fully participating, Carl. But this is untenable.

Overall, I am all the way in on this storyline for Ian and Mickey -- and pretty into the idea of V getting involved with politics. I think we’re getting all the seeds of where this show is going to leave the characters. And I haven’t loved every moment, but I do feel like the overall show is working for me better than last season.

That might be faint praise. But I really liked this one. Best yet.

#Shameless reactions #11x04 #NIMBY #gallavich #shameless season 11 #shameless spoilers

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regrettablewritings · 4 years

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How They Spend the Quarantine (Tadashi Hamada, Lucifer Morningstar, Dewey Finn, Wade Wilson, Harley Quinn, & Benoit Blanc)

Just a fun (?? is that even responsible to say?) little thing I’ve been thinking about while slogging through this neverending hellscape of an extended lockdown.

Tadashi Hamada

When San Fransokyo was ordered to go into a lockdown, there were mixed feelings.

At first, Tadashi had a hint of optimism that this would mean more time to work on his prospective projects . . . But then he quickly realized that his projects mostly required tools and space offered by the campus. He could technically make do at home, but it wouldn’t quite be the same considering the garage was considered Hiro’s space.

Somberly had to clean out his lab and take whatever he could home.

Cue the rest of the group (sans Fred and Hiro) griping that at least his style of science could travel well enough to be somewhat continued off of university grounds.

Helps do delivery for The Lucky Cat. It helps him get out the house, and it’s simply helpful altogether.

Uses Baymax frequently to make sure everyone down to Mochi is sanitized, and nobody’s running a fever.

Nearly as frequent a sanitizer as Aunt Cass.

He starts most days prepared to be productive, only to stop and poke fun at Hiro, who’s almost always got his eyes trained on a video game.

Tadashi realizes three hours later that he, too, has been playing the game as Player 2.

Learned how to make facial masks with Aunt Cass. He already knew how to sew a little but frankly, making the masks made him realize he could have a new hobby on his hands. He’s currently trying to figure out how to make Mochi a little vest . . .

Lucifer Morningstar

B o r e d. A s. F u c k.

At first, he thinks everyone being forced to go home would work in his favor -- surely some rule-breakers would sneak out and try to bunk up with the Devil, right?

Well . . . Kinda? Once Chloe found out and scolded him about it, the idea died real fast. Plus, he realized he wasn’t quite fond of the possibility of being around someone who could pop up with a disgusting human sickness at any point during their time with him. Smearing their snot all over, coughing into his Egyptian cotton sheets . . . Nope, never mind, he is perfectly content having the penthouse to himself, thank you very much!

Except he’s not.

The poor bastard is going crazy by himself -- he’s just not used to being without some kind of company!

“At least in Hell, you could tell there were people around you based on the screaming!” he’d whine at his phone during his hourly video chat with Chloe.

Oh yes: The video chats. He tries to make them hourly with anyone he can get a hold of (namely, his long-suffering detective) but this clearly never plays out as he would like for it to: If he had it his way, everyone would respond in an instant and let him bounce mainly one-sided conversations off of them -- basically, what he did before all this went down.

What usually winds up happening is he gets hung up on or nobody answers him at all out of sheer annoyance over his clinginess.

Ironically, he’s not exactly crazy about when Amenadiel initiates those “family calls”. He insists it’s healthy and normal for them to do this and even calls Luci out on the hypocrisy, but let’s face it: Lucifer finds it obnoxiously gushy and weird.

He works his way into Linda’s video appointment books to help him cope with his boredom and admitted need for interactions. She doesn’t mind offering him counsel, but once Lucifer starts attempting to butt in during others’ appointment calls, it becomes an issue.

Has, at some point, gotten buzzed down in Lux and streamed himself attempting to pole dance. It drew quite a bit of attention.

He’s managed to gain a bit of a following and some companionship by streaming himself playing piano and singing. It’s not the same thing as having an actual audience, in his opinion, but it will have to do for now.

He’s never been one to binge with regards to TV shows or movies, but after the first week, he decided to binge watch every work action star Wesley Cabot was ever in.

Makes sure his staff still gets paid well. After all, he’s pretty well-off; there’s no need to make an innocent bartender’s life a living hell just because some other rich bastard fucked up, yeah?

Going off this, should he need to order to-go or anything, we already know he tends to tip as handsomely as he looks.

Dewey Finn

Kids were being sent to Horace Green on tuitions worth more than what some people saw in half a year -- of course the school was going to continue classes online!

While technically an afterschool instructor, the program is popular enough for parents to expect it to continue, and for Dewey to be kept on payroll.

Initially, he was pretty smug: He’s one if, if not, the youngest teacher-figure at Horace Green, so surely that means he’s more tech savvy than his older, stiffer coworkers, right? For once, he’s ahead of the curve!

Wrong: Figuring out Zoom was a headache, and then there was the realization of just how dependent his classes were on actual physical presence.

Plus, let’s be real: Dewey’s Internet connection was decent on its own, but craptastic when compared to those of his wealthier students. The lag is strong with this one.

Has definitely accidentally messed up the background on his screen. Somehow wound up with the Beetlejuice background and got so frustrated, he wound up keeping it there for two whole sessions.

In spite of the slight issues regarding lag, they pull through and try to resume lessons as best they can.

Tries to keep optimism by pointing out how this is a new form of entertainment they could be pioneers in.

Some days, it’s just going so wack or everyone’s so bleh that Dewey just assigns for them to watch a music documentary or something.

“Okay, kids, Mr. Finn’s hungover and clearly Summer is the only one who went to bed before 3am. So what I’m gonna have you do is watch . . . Prrrbbbb . . . Amadeus.” “How is Amadeus rock-related?” “It had a rock single, shut up. Anyway, we meet back next class and talk about what we saw, m’kay? M’kay. Over and out.”

Next class, he’s filled with dread as Summer produces an in-depth analysis of the relationship or lack thereof between character and the presence of talent as evidenced by Mozart’s abilities juxtaposed with his immature presentation and -- Dewey just can’t keep up. Sure, Summer, why not?

When he’s not busy teaching, however, he’s using the lockdown to work on some new material. Or just screwing around.

Otherwise, let’s be real, Big Boy’s living the high life in a place of his own: Playing video games (Animal Crossing, recently got back into Team Fortress 2, is trying to finally finish Ocarina of Time); eating a not very great diet; staying up late, napping at weird times; all in the name of quarantine.

If he orders delivery or to-go, he tips the best he can.

Wade Wilson

On one hand, murking never goes on lockdown. But on the other . . . He’s already technically not well, why risk that even with his mutation?

Oh, fuck I just remembered he lives at the X Mansion, never mind turn back turn back oh god give us free --

The situation is tense to say the least. There’s Wade, who’s sensible enough to know why the quarantine is in place . . . and then there’s everyone else, who knows Wade’s full of shit.

And by everyone, I “coincidentally” mean Colossus, Nega Sonic, Yukio, Domino, Cable, and Russ because the already small world of the sequel just got smaller by the fact that everyone is bound to a large but nonetheless single estate whose size has probably decreased from that of the First Class timeline.

You know those videos of the usual Quarantine Characters? Wade is somehow yet still unsurprisingly all of them, save for the frequent sanitizer. He raids the pantry frequently, sleeps at all hours, considers scooting a swivel chair down the halls exercise for the thighs, blasts video games, and so on.

Going back to the sanitizer thing, it’s not that he’s just not exactly known for being tidy. Colossus occasionally does drag him out of bed at a decidedly decent time (read: any time before 11am) to try and get him excited about cleaning up around the mansion, but it rarely ends well. At this point, the safest option is to just remind Wade to wash his hands for 20 seconds as necessary.

Has acquired a Switch and visits everyone’s island, often to bonk them on the head with a net or gift them with weird crap they don’t necessarily want. For the “friends” from Sister Margaret’s, he has somehow acquired their Dodo Codes. Nobody knows how he did this.

Facetimes Dopinder frequently.

“Precious, you’re the beacon of light in this cold, cruel world.” “I miss you, too, DP --” “Sshshsh! I’m having a moment . . .” *weeps*

On the many occasions he orders delivery, he tips by giving the delivery person something expensive from the mansion that they can sell. Prof. X is loaded, after all. Plus, he more or less isn’t even present in this universe, it’s not like he’s gonna miss anything he can’t see/probably doesn’t even know exists in his house. The problem is, Colossus does exist and does notice and does care when things go missing. Leading to many a delivery person getting caught up in shenanigans at that weird school in the boonies that they either don’t get paid enough to deal with or couldn’t pay to make up.

“Oh, pawn shops are closed?” asks the man who looks like a skinned avocado if avocados had human skin. “Don’t worry, lemme hook you up -- I know some guys --” “DEADPOOOOOLLL!!” roars a Russian accent from inside the house. “WHERE IS THE BRONZE BUST OF THE PROFESSOR!?” The poor delivery person’s eyes widen as they realize that the odd cargo they’ve been presented with apparently holds some value of some kind. But before they can flee, the avocado man blurts, “Shit! Leave the pizza in the bushes, look me up on my Youtube page, byyyeeee!!”

In his defense, Wade does hold up his end of the deal. Much like the Dodo Codes, nobody knows what strings he pulled. They just accept it and move on.

Harley Quinn

Surprisingly compliant.

She’s crazy, not stupid: Staying at home may suck, but what sucks more is making things harder on people who may not fair so well. Besides, she’s spent time in a maximum security prison -- she can handle staying cooped up in her own home. At least home has TV, books, and snacks.

When she hears people are still going out without masks or plotting to have a protest, she strongly considers firing up the old Fun Gun and popping the next sign-carrying Karen she sees with a tit full of cadmium yellow powder.

Seriously, stay the fuck home and fuck up your own hair; this is the perfect time to make mistakes with your looks, it ain’t like you got anywhere to be or anyone to impress.

“STAY THE FUCK HOME, BITCH!” P O W!!! “JUST GO GREY ALREADY, WE ALL KNOW YOUR HAIR AIN’T THAT COLOR ANYMORE, YOU’RE THREE YEARS FROM BEING IN THE GODDAMN AGE-BRACKET!!!” P O W!!!!

Only leaves her new apartment to grab groceries and to take Bruce on a walk. She actually refuses to steal or cause a scene during this shitshow because she may be a bad guy, but she sure ain’t evil.

So far, there haven’t been complaints about the fact that she’s walking a hyena down a public street. Maybe it’s because there’s hardly anyone out? Maybe it’s because Gothamites just can’t be bothered to be fazed by it . . . Or maybe it’s because she made him a little mask for his snout.

“In this house, we wash our hands for at least 20 seconds, kid.”

Lets the forest reclaim the earth, so to speak. She was never really shaving anything for anyone but herself before, but now it just seems especially pointless.

Spends almost every day in a kigurumi. To give her a semblance of routine, she has a pink bear one she calls her “Sunday Suit.” She doesn’t know it’s not Sunday because the days just blur but Cass just doesn’t have the heart to tell her; she seemed so proud of herself . . .

Like everyone else, she’s gotten Animal Crossing. She’s trying to create an all-preppy island with a few exceptions (Astrid = Aesthetic, m’kay?)

Tips nicely when ordering delivery.

Benoit Blanc

As young and spry in nature as the gentleman sleuth would like to think of himself, he would really rather not test the dangers of the situation and go about all foolhardy -- he’s staying home!

In theory, it’s only logical and therefore perfectly fine. But in practice . . . God, he wishes he’d invested more in things to occupy himself with when home.

It wasn’t that Benoit was never home, he just never felt too much of a need to invest in a fancy entertainment center -- the fanciest he ever got was an iHome.

The beginning of the quarantine served as the perfect time for him to read over case files, catch up on paperwork, even catch up on some reading he’d been putting on hold since God knows when due to cases popping up left and right. But that dried up quicker than he’d assumed, and that’s when he was faced with what a man of his mind dreads the most: Boredom.

Finally caved and decided to hook up Amazon Fire.

Expected to use the one-month free trial on Netflix and be just fine but once the lockdown in his area got extended and he realized he wasn’t going to be able to catch up with Crazy Ex-Girlfriend at this rate, he caves even further and buys a subscription.

Fully delights at the influx of platforms uploading Broadway recordings; when The Show Must Go On put on Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat, followed by The Phantom of The Opera, it was a treat, I tell you!

Sanitizes often, despite hardly ever leaving his house besides to have a smoke or to go grab groceries. Honestly, it’s less about cleaning at this point so much as it is finding something to occupy his focus when he feels there’s nothing else to so.

Takes zinc after every meal to help lessen the intensity of any ailment that might hit him.

Definitely owns a facemask. There’s a good chance it’s from Marta or one of his relatives, and there’s another good chance the pattern is as flamboyant as his clothing. He’s delighted.

Benoit tries not to rely too much on delivery, as he’d much rather just cook. On the rare occasion where tipping comes up, however, he gives as generously as he can.

Bonus: There’s a slight chance he might have acquired a companion to foster early on in the quarantine. Benoit hadn’t had a pet since childhood, a crime of which he was admittedly melancholic of his own involvement. However, his surprisingly busy lifestyle just wouldn’t suit a four-legged friend, now could it?

Well, now there’s time to. Besides, it would certainly ease the potential feeling of loneliness to have someone or something with whom he could interact with.

Admittedly, when shelters began encouraging people to invest time in taking home a companion, he’d been looking more for a comrade on the canine side of the spectrum -- but darn, if Duke wasn’t a handsome cat.

A lovely grey-and-white cat with eyes that matched his own, Duke has become the one Benoit monologues to (because in all honesty, the man is a performer at heart, in need of an audience to speak his mind to and portray a thought before). Plus, he doesn’t appear to mind it when Benoit finds himself belting out in tone-deaf notes to showtunes while washing the dishes: The mark of a true companion.

At this rate, he’s probably not going to keep fostering Duke when things calm down -- he’s probably going to just straight up adopt him.

Stay safe & healthy!

#just a dumb little thing #anyway stay safe and healthy #regrettablewritings #tadashi hamada imagine #lucifer morningstar imagine #dewey finn imagine #wade wilson imagine #harley quinn imagine #tadashi hamada #lucifer morning star #dewey finn #benoit blanc imagine #benoit blanc

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dyanlzbb · 4 years

Text

Batmom

Part 1 of 5

Batmom x Batfamily.

Warnings: None.

----

Gotham was never left unprotected. It was an unwritten rule. Even if Batman wasn’t in Gotham, he leaves the Calvary at the ready to patrol and cover all the patrol routes. In fact, it was strange that Bruce Wayne leaves his beloved city at all. However this time he had to attend unavoidable important business matters abroad, which meant he had to leave his extended family of vigilantes to take care of the city while he took care of Wayne Enterprises.

Bruce’s return to Gotham was programmed for still another two days from tonight, which had him somehow wary of the situation back at home, not because he didn’t trust his trainees, but because they have been working on a case that had been giving them mixed signals confusing the team and they got notice that the shipment of fear gas they have been tracking was scheduled to arrive tonight. Knowing that he couldn’t supervise firsthand the operation, he called the Batcave to have an update about the mission.

Of course he had called his wife earlier to have their daily conversation; however she denied him all information on the plan for the night, alleging that he should trust their kids to handle the situation and that he had prepared them for these kinds of operations. And she also mentioned that now he knows exactly how she feels every night when they go out. It is to mention that she had been beside Bruce since not long after he took Dick under his care, so his wife had a perfect idea of how he felt. However he promised to be pending of his mobile in case something goes wary and he had to take an emergency trip back to Gotham to assist the boys. But she assured that they would be fine.

Nonetheless, Bruce was uneasy about the mission. It seemed all too convenient that they got a good lead after checking diverting leads there and there for two months. He dreaded that a situation like the one with Jason many years ago could be repeated and he knew that once again he doesn’t have time enough to reach the boys before they get injured or worse. He was wise enough not to let his wife to know about this particular fear.

That night the operation was supervised by Agent A, that is Alfred, who was monitoring the trajectories of Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin and Robin that took them to the warehouses in the borders of the Narrows and the docks. As they entered the one with the mark they were following according to their lead, they found everything in the darkness and the place was mainly empty, there was no sign of the cargo they were trying to get.

“Hey Agent A, it seems like it was another dead end.” Nightwing appointed himself as the leader of the operation due to his longer trajectory as hero.

“Damn it! I am sick of these leads to nowhere… we should/” What Red Hood wanted to suggest was cut abruptly when the light went on around them revealing a set that looks only too familiar and unpleasant for the second robin.

Alfred’s voice resonated in the comms of the batboys since they interrupted their phrases. “What is happening? Please report back.”

“Well, well, well… what do we have here? Look Harley, I got a flock of birds right into my cage, how about we have a little fun with the trapped birds before we blow up the place Dear”. Harley just giggled in amusement at the words from the Joker.

The whole set of fake leads was a trap from the Joker who wanted another epic battle with Batman. He knew that in order to get the Bat’s full attention he needed to treat his Robins, and so he did when he noticed that there were fewer reports of sightings of the Batman.

Unbeknown to Alfred, Mrs. Wayne was listening to every word since the boys left to follow the track they were left to. She too was uneasy about the kids going out. Perhaps she too had extreme confidence that Bruce could deal with everything and being without him left a void in Gotham. She wished she was wrong, that they didn’t need her husband as much as they truly did, but now her sons were in danger.

Alfred heard the surprised gasp that Mrs. Wayne let out when she figured out the situation. He knew she had suffered deeply the loss of Jason many years ago, but right now they needed to understand the situation so they could all get out from there in one piece. “Madame, do not engage in the situation, I can assure you that the boys are perfectly capable of getting out of the trap of Joker without casualties, after all, they have been trained by Batman”. Alfred knew as well as Mr. and Mrs. Wayne that the boys had overcome the direst situations because of their extensive training.

However Mrs. Wayne was first and foremost, the mother of those kids. “Alfred, you know I love you so much and I know your good judgement keeps this place running like clockwork, but I won’t let the Joker hurt any of my babies again.” And she hurried away from the batcomputer where Alfred was following the action right to the changing room.

There she opened one of the lockers belonging to her. It was strange that they had many lockers just for the six of the regular occupants of the training room; however no one questioned the decisions of Bruce because, after all, he was a billionaire and had permission to be eccentric. In her locker she stored a suit that she hopped to never wear again, it was one of the early versions of the Batsuit her husband wore. It didn’t fit perfectly and it was more of a purple tone than a black and gray combination that he had been wearing lately, but it was enough for her.

It took her less than five minutes to change and be ready. She was about to ignite the motorcycle when she heard Alfred. “Madame, the coordinates are already in the motorcycle’s GPS, you’ll be there in 10 minutes. Once you’re out I will synchronize the lights so you don’t have to stop and hopefully, you’ll find light traffic. And Madame… please… be safe.” Alfred’s heart was on the line that night. He couldn’t risk losing another boy, nor Mrs. Wayne, that would devastate Bruce beyond reason; however he understood that their only chance of survival resided now on Batmom.

“Alfred, you are pure gold!” And she revered as fast as she could to hit the road and reach the warehouse in time to save her sons.

#batmom x batfamily #batmom #batfamily #Jason Todd #dick grayson #tim drake #batman

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starfirette · 4 years

Note

Hello! Can u please write Helena Bertinelli with a Fem!reader tomboy that's a muay thai fighter and look like super cool and cold,but in the apartment its a very soft and lovely girlfriend with Helena? (And how the birds will react when them met her) Thank you,I Love you writing and HELENA IS SUCH A BAE!!! THIS GAL NEED MORE LOVE AND SUPPORT!❤

masterlist | word count: who fucking knows | 🏷 @kurreapormaranet @emofairygay | a/n: ;0 There are some things you might want to look up on youtube so you have a general idea of what’s happening. Clinch positions, tactical stand ups, thips

The rink’s seats filled massively, stretching to every wall that bounced the cheering back and forth.

The overall mission seemed simple, but it had Helena dreading this moment since Harleen explained what needed to happen.

The trust fund brat of the devilish Rossini family kidnapped the Rossini’s pride and joy: their little baby girl, Ayala. Ayala Rossini, four years old, is the Brat’s younger half sister and the new written in heir of the Rossini fortune. The Brat, Carmen, had been written out of the will after she kidnapped the new little bird Batman was keeping under his wing. She’d been sloppy and left behind all marks of her family’s (unbeknownst) involvement. She made serval costly mistakes which included Batman’s uncovering of the Rossini family’s plans of Gotham, Star, and Jump city. Half the family became arrested.

Carmen was all but disowned by her father, whom she already resented for marrying another woman so quick after the death of her mother. To get her revenge, she kidnapped Ayala.

So, Mr and Mrs Rossini employed Harley and her rag tag team of anti-hero thugs.

To get Ayala back, the girls would have to go undercover.

Their heroic deed would get them 30k each, so that was good enough. The Rossinis are precise and focuses; they’d been willing to pay as much as they had to in order to ensure the safety of their little crime lord baby.

Now Harley had her connections. She knew a guy who knew a guy who saw a friend with a girl outside of the 31 Flavors ice cream shoppe, and this girl just happened to know that Carmen spends her free time hosting epic fights in the secret tunnels of Smallville.

It’s a long ways away from Gotham, but is a perfect place to host such gatherings. The fights are frightfully violent and brutal. Also very illegal. No one would ever know that beneath the wheat and corn fields of Lil’ Ol’ Smallville county lays an intricate mafia maze.

Carmen Rossini is notorious for entertaining the winners to a “fine dinner with wine”. The rumors go that she runs an entire harem of Thai Fighting women, using them for sexual favors and personal security.

The entire mission is actually depending on that rumor.

The plan was to send in Dinah as a participant in the rink and hope she would win and earn the attention of Carmen.

But then Dinah got bronchitis. It was a nasty case, too, in which she wouldn’t stop coughing and hacking up green stuff into tissues.

The entire thing would have been called off if you hadn’t admitted that you are, in fact, trained in Muay Thai.

You’re positive that Helena would have rather kept this a secret, because she doesn’t like putting you in harms way. It’s a nuisance to have the world’s most protective girlfriend. Heaven forbid you even get a paper cut, else she’d make you wear rubber gloves while you read a book.

The entire group (save Helena) jumped for the chance to replace Dinah with you. You’d do perfect, Harley said, sounding so confident.

You intended to be flawless in the ring.

You’d not competed since high school, when Muay Thai was still just a recreational hobby. You’d had your wins and losses, but that was before you grew up to spend majority of your time fighting mafia crime lords.

Once Dinah officially relinquished her role of the mission, you took to the heavy bags. The repetitions became intense and harsh in the following weeks. You spent every night limping into bed.

Your sweet whispers that begged Helena for a soothing massage fell onto her deaf ears. She is stubborn, and she had been attempting to force you out of this competition since the day you’d agreed to it.

You were not afraid of Carmen, or anyone else she’d make you fight against. For the sake of the little Ayala, you would do this. Besides, you tell yourself, what’s the worst that could happen? With the Birds and their abilities, there isn’t much that could happen.

Nothing would slide through the cracks.

Hopefully.

The day did come faster than you’d imagined, though. The drive to Smallville was tense, especially in the backseat where Helena was frostily ignoring you.

Harleen was road raging, passing every trucker on the two way road that didn’t exceed 65 miles an hour.

“You know the speed limit is 45, right?” Montoya asked after she had taken a long drag of a cigarette. She had her legs propped up on the dash. Between her and Harley sat Cass, who was oblivious to the chaos around her as she sang along to a pop Spanish song. “Yeah, and?” Harley quipped. She cast her bright eyes towards Montoya, a wicked smile playing on her lips.“You gonna arrest me?”

Montoya couldn’t do much but sigh in defeat. If Harley didn’t mind crashing, then she didn’t either.

Between the bickering and the loud singing of the three front passengers, you and Helena were sitting silently in the very back seats. Your head was leaned up against the window which rattled as the tires of Harley’s ‘64 Starfire rolled across the gravely road.

Helena had been refusing to speak to you since the fight you got into last night. It was a real fight. She’s made it clear that she’s against you fighting in Carmen’s ring, and is especially against you joining her harem.

You’d first thought she was afraid of disloyalty; you had promised her that you wouldn’t ever cheat on her, even if it was for a mission. But it became revealed that’s not what Helena was worried about.

She feared for your life. She fears for your life every single day. No matter how small of a task, she can’t help but worry. She lost her mother, father, brothers, sisters, cousins, aunts, uncles; everyone. She’d been so helpless. She could only watch as she became the sole Bertinelli.

Helena couldn’t live on if something happened to you.

The fight ended on a confusing note. It didn’t end, per say, and you two did sleep in the same bed. However, neither of you has said a word to each other. You tried this morning, but she’d given you the snippy, cold shoulder.

As much as you hate putting her through so much anxiety, you know that you can’t back down. A girl’s life is at stake; it’s not the money you care about. Not to mention Carmen Rossini is about to make the top 50 worst criminals in Gotham County.

Harley rolled the car to a stop around a patch of gravel and dust. Everyone climbs out, rocks crunching under their shoes as they stretch and look around.

“Where is it?” Cass asks, shoving her hands in the pockets of her loose denim jacket. Her chapped lips are stained blue from the tootsy pop that she’d crunched on in the car. The soggy stick now hung from her lips, as if she had been imitating Montoya’s cigarette.

Harley locked, double checked, then re locked, then triple checked her car. She turned around, using her hands to shield her vision as she scanned the open wheat fields. “Dunno,” she admitted. “I guess I supposed someone woulda been here to meet us.”

You shifted on your feet. You wanted to try and make Helena happy before you’d at least go inside and get in the ring. The only issue is, she’ll only be happy if your forfeit now.

You would not.

Across the way, by a few yards at most, a rustling came through the wheat that came at least up to your hips.

A young man emerged; he approached the Birds with a guarded look that furrowed his thick, blond eyebrows. “You are Carmen’s guests, yes?”

He spoke with a thick accent. His honey blond hair contrasted his coffee brown features. He had a handsome face with a strong jaw, but something about him seemed off. He seemed intimidated despite being taller and broader than most.

“We are,” you answered for the Birds. “I am Y/n. I am the contestant.”

The man beckons you all forward. Helena glared at him, her hand steadily tapping the outside of her thigh. She was prepared to draw her gun and shoot anyone that could get in her way. In your way.

You tasted a bitter foam in your mouth as you attempted to stop Helena without raising too much attention.

“We––I––am here for the Carmen’s...event.”

The honey blond man tallied the Birds on his fingers, visibly distressed. “I do not thinka’ Miss Rossini expected so many of you...”

After a brief, strangled silence, the man shook his head and waved his arm along to escort you. “The bunker is just this way,” he explained. Harley and Cass walked after him.

Helena meets your eyes. Her gaze is firm, and maybe even angry. No way could you defuse that situation while still heading into the rink.

The wheat and grass crunched under your boots as you marched across the pace-by-pace clearing. A trap door in the ground lifted up swiftly, silently, as if they grease the hinges every damn day.

You remembered how this turned out for Suzie Salmon; casting one more look over your shoulder, you assured yourself with the presence of Helena.

Down the hatch, under the ground, you, Harley, Cass, Helena, and Mr Cannoli over here shuffled down the hall to a big dressing room. The entire layout felt more like a stadium then an underground crime rink. The dressing room has lush sofas and fur blankets; in the corner a SodaStream is mounted on an Ikea book table.

“Miss Rossini will join you shortly,” Cannoli-guy told you, nodding his head regally. He bowed out of the room, shutting the heavy oak door after him.

Cass jumped on the sofa. She sprawled out over the furs, kicking her muddy Chuck Taylors up. “Luxury.”

Harley snipped to Cass to get her dirty little feet off the merchandise.

You took a seat in the swivel chair in front of the large mirror. It looked like pure Broadway with the heavy lightbulbs that wreathed the glass.

“Can’t say they don’t know how to entertain a guest,” Harley squealed as she migrated to the SodaStream. “They got homemade cream soda!”

Cass jumped off the sofa to run after Harley.

Instead of facing you, Helena took a heavy seat on the couch. Her legs spread out, looking spectacularly muscular in her tight, black pants.

Unfortunately, you’re too annoyed with her to go lounge in her lap.

As much as you’d like to make amends, you know the only way to do that would be to back down. You’re going into that rink.

The door flew open at the second Harley had poured herself and Cassie a drink.

Carmen Rossini strutted in and you stared in awe. You tried not to let your jaw drop. Tall, voluptuous. Her hair is wavy auburn, her eyes deepest green.

She looked at you immediately. Reaching out for you as if you were the messiah, she chuckled. “You’re even cuter in person! Oh, sweetie, you––you do know how to drive a hard bargain. Your agent Harleen contacted me, where is she?”

Harley waved her hand from the corner. “That would be me. Ain’t Y/n a real figure?”

Scowling, Helena crossed her legs. She glared up at Carmen, and you remembered that Carmen is doing what Helena hates the most; complimenting you.

It’s not so much that Helena doesn’t like that you receive compliments; it’s just that she prefers giving them to you.

“I’m so happy to see you all here tonight,” Carmen said, clapping her hands loudly. “There’s nothing more exciting than tonight’s event. Did you know,” she cooed as she ‘boop’ed your nose, “that I’ve got people betting about two million dollars that you’ll win? I am so, so pleased that you’ve chosen to make your debut in my arena.”

You nod, your neck stiff. “I guess I’m excited?” you mumbled.

Carmen snapped her fingers. She signaled to one of her lackies to come forward. A box Is presented at your feet.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I brought you a little something. A uniform of your own, courtesy of moi. Don’t you love it? I had your photos analyzed by a fashion expert, and they designed your shorts to compliment you perfectly.”

The high waisted, Thai shorts are a deep ivory shade, with black flowers sewn into the design. They’re the most beautiful Thai shorts you’d ever seen! Your own were cute, but simple, considering that you didn’t usually think to be a fashionista while working out.

“They’re amazing,” you admitted. Over the top? Definitely. Did you expect anything else? Honestly, you’re not sure. You weren’t sure what to expect.

“Oh! I almost forgot.” Carmen, as she smiled, reached into the deep pocket of her red silk kimono-blouse. In her hands is a thickly wound prajoud, made of fine threads and paracord. The black and red jumped out at you like an old friend.

“I hope I got the rank right?”

“You did,” you say as you took the prajad from Carmen. “I could have brought my own if you’d asked.”

“It’s really not a big deal, my darling,” Carmen purred. She ran her hand through your hair, taking note of the silky feeling of each strand. “I will be watching. There will be people outside the door waiting to escort you to the arena when you’re done dressing.”

Her fingers are heavy with her bejeweled rings. The heavy tear shaped gems get tangled in your hair.

“You have ten minutes,” Carmen adds.

Helena glowered after her as she flitted out of the room. Her heels clacked down the hallway following the click of the door shutting in place.

Montoya took a long drag of her cigarette before she chortled.“You just gonna let her mark her territory like that?”

Helena didn’t say anything.

“Oi, Katniss,” Harley said loudly.

Helena’s cloudy eyes finally look to her friend. “What?”

“Carmen Rossini basically stole Y/n from you, and you let her!”

As you pulled out of your jeans, you sent Harley a little glare. “No one owned me to begin with,” you snapped.

“Hey, I’m all for women’s rights,” Harley exclaimed. “But it just seemed like—,”

“I know what it seemed like,” you snapped. “That’s the entire goddamn point, isn’t it? Get in her good graces?”

Case choked back her soda. “If that’s your idea of getting in Carmen’s creepy ‘good graces’ you gotta do better than that. You didn’t act sexy or flirt back at all!”

Helena stood to her feet. She brushed down the front of her black zip-up sweater. “I’m waiting outside,” she declares before stomping out with a frown wrung on her mouth.

Harley grimaced as the door slammed shut.

“Kid, come on,” Montoya sighed.

“I’m right,” Cass scowled. “You know that I am. We knew from the start that in order to get the little girl back, sexual favors would probably have to be granted.”

You pulled up your shorts. “Can everyone shut up?” You asked.

“What’s that?” Cass proceeded to ask, given she couldn’t talk about Carmen anymore. She pointed at the arm band that lay over the counter.

“Prajoud,” you tell her. Thank you pulled out of tour shirt. The heavy duty sports bra was already in place, but it gave you major uniboob.

“What does it do?” Cass asked again. Unable to contain her curiosity, she grabbed it off the vanity and fiddled with it.

“It’s like a belt,” you explained. “Instead of wearing a black belt, I wear a black prajad.”

“Who come up with that?” Cass asked.

“Uhm, Thai people?” Harley said as though it should be obvious. She snorted and jerked her thumb towards Cass. “Get a load of this guy.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s alright to ask questions, guys, just try not to be annoying. ‘M a little stressed out already.”

Harley took a final gulp of her soda. “Well, I guess we know who’s not getting action tonight. And that’s Y/n!”

“Why is Helena so upset anyways? Because Carmen was flirting?”

“No,” Harley explained. “See, she’s angry because Y/n’s going out and doing this fight, one, without asking her to begin with, two, for some other little kid, and three, with a evil Italian mafia tigress. She’s projecting her childhood fear that she’ll never be able to protect anyone she loves. She’s also rash, irritable, and possessive, so it’s just a cherry on top that the plan includes Y/n using her charms to sway Carmen.”

“Bravo,” you plainly say. “It’s almost like you’re a doctor or something.”

“Yeah,” Harley grinned. “Or something.”

You pulled the prajad over your forearm. You pulled the band tight, holding the laces in your mouth so you could knot it tight with one hand. You looked in the mirror, unsure of what to think of yourself.

You kicked your boots off next.

In socks, you turned to look at Harley and Cass. “Let’s do this,” you sighed.

Helena had been waiting loyally outside, leaned up against the jamb. Her eyes flitted up and down your figure, before rolling up towards the ceiling. “Let’s do this,” you said, sounding as if you’d already lost.

Marching down the hall in tow of the honey blond Italian, you tried to make eye contact with Helena. She was good at ignoring you. You’re not sure if it’s because she’s angry, stressed, or both.

Riddled with anxiety, you wish that she would look at you, or hold your hand at the very least.

At the entrance of the arena, you could see it was filled massively to the brim of its walls. You hadn’t realized how far underground you really are until you looked at the expansive seating. The rink’s seats filled massively, stretching to every wall that bounced the cheering back and forth.

You stepped to the stairs that wound up to the cage. You could smell the sweat and the matts; above the sound of the crowd cheering, you could hear your blood rushing fast in your ears.

“Find Ayala,” you muttered in Harley’s ears. “I don’t want to be here longer than we have to be.”

Her blue eyes sparkled with mischief, but they were momentairly dulled by a silent question. “I thought...?”

“No,” you said firmly. “We shouldn’t be here any longer than we have to be,” you tell her. “I’ll stay here, I’ll do my thing; you take everyone and look for that girl. If you’re not done by the time the match is over, I’ll distract Carmen.”

Harley couldn’t respond by the time you were dragged up the stairs. Outside the cage’s gate, you were given a little table at which you could rest at. It had a pitcher of ice water, some glasses, a washcloth, and a bottle of brandy. You took a large drink of the brandy first. You peeled off your socks.

It felt like a blur as you stepped into the cage.

Your opponent was your size; she looked your weight, too. You suppose that’s fair, at least. It’s not like in the movies. The real competitions are done by weight and height.

You turned your head to give one last glance to your friends.

Helena stood beyond the cage, her hand resting over the gun holster. Her eyes were fixated on you.

You had to look away.

Tying your hair up in a tight bun, you walked out onto the mat. Your opponent did the same; meeting you half way, you two shook hands.

You didn’t exchange names; that would only make it harder.

“The rules,” a voice boomed around the stadium, “are there are no weapons to be permitted in the arena. Please watch as the fighters return to their corners then begin the match on the sound of the bell. The match will consist of two rounds, each lasting seven minutes.”

You hovered in the corner of the cage. You stretched and jogged in place. You have enough training for this. You do. You know that you can do it; hopefully, you will.

The bell rang. You take a massive sprint out into the middle of the ring where your opponent had already paced out.

You wound up a punch. Your feet lifted off the mat as you leap into the air, and you delivered the blow to the side of her face.

Her teeth crunched under the impact. It was such a hit that you saw it spew out of her mouth, and hit the cage.

The crowd exploded into a frenzy.

Hovering at your face your hands remained in constant motion. Her kicks were well calculated and her movements tactical. She gave away all of her tricks, though, by looking twice at the target she would next go for. If she looked at your side once too many times, you would crouch and use your arms to block your ribcage.

The sweat that built up made the more precise attacks difficult. Your punch began sliding off her face, keeping you staggering forward, and in her wide open range.

You were struck once, twice, then thrice on your left cheek. It sent blood and saliva dribbling down your chin.

Your prajad began to slip as you struggled to regain your balance.

The girl’s long leg extended forward. Her foot jabbed a strong thip into the center of your stomach, practically digging against your bladder.

The bell rang, then, marking the end of the first round.

You fell into your corner with a wheezing gasp. You crawled for the little table. You drank directly from the pitcher.

You looked back to the crowd, half expecting to see a flash of unfamiliar faces.

Helena still remained at the ringside. Her hands are clenched through the cage, and her eyes are desperate to meet yours. You were confused. Why hadn’t she left with Harley? Did Harley not need her? Or did she want to stay and watch?

You felt stronger with her just a few yards away.

You staggered to your legs, where your knees wobbled like jello on a plate.

The two minutes of rest time had ended, and the bell rang once more. You slid back rather than go for her first.

She sauntered to you like a bear, her shoulders hunched and her fists close to her face. She swung hooks and uppercuts that you could just barely dodge. You were close to slipping backwards a few times.

“Y/n, watch out!” Helena shouted suddenly.

You couldn’t see the girl racing towards you like a battering ram through your blurry vision. Her fist slammed over your temple. You swore you could feel your brain tumbling around your skull as you fell to the floor.

You clutched your ear with your bare hands. Pain gushed out of you like water. You thought you could see it, visibly, as it poured down bright green and crystalline.

It wasn’t there; it was the spots dancing in front of you. Disorientation is a real bitch.

One tactical standup later, you’re back up on your feet. You pushed yourself forward, forcing the remaining energy you had out of your hands. You grabbed the girl by her long pony tail and dragged her into a tight clinch. She attempted to swim out of it; the friction of her wrists against your neck burned.

You tugged her down, driving a sharp knee into her stomach. She stayed in your clinch for a long time, gasping for air as she couldn’t evade the knees. You finally released her. She staggers back. She falls onto her ass, visibly shaken up and at a loss for breath.

The crowd began to scream at you. Some did a countdown, others urged the other girl to get back up.

It was too late for her.

The bell rang, marking the end of the seven minutes, as well as the second round. She had lost, and you had won.

You limped towards her. Despite your own pain, you lifted the girl onto her feet.

“Good game?” she rasped.

“Hell yeah,” you wheezed.

It felt like the ultimate orgasm to go back and gulp down the water. The cold, damp washcloth made a good compress for your busted lip. You judged by the twitching of your left eyelid that you had a pretty sizable welt there.

Helena ran to meet you as you limped down the stairs out of the cage. She threw her arms around you tightly. “You’re alright,” she gasped.

You tried to hug her back. Your arm hung loosely over her lower back as you tried to laugh. “Did you doubt that I would be?” you asked her. “Where’s Harley and Cass? Montoya?”

“They went to find the girl,” Helena said in your ear. “I couldn’t leave you...I had to stay and watch. I had to make sure.”

She pressed a kiss into the crook of your neck. “Let’s go,” you said firmly, “before Carmen comes for us.”

Helena helped you leave the arena. By the time you vanished, the stadium was already announcing it’s second match, featuring a woman named Selina. The people went into a hectic frenzy of excitement when Selina’s name was announced over the speakers. You knew as you were walking out she would never be able to escape this place.

Honey-blond-haired Italian guy jogged to keep up with you. “Miss Carmen asks that you wait in the dressing room,” he called out. “Yeah, yeah,” Helena called out. “We’ll be there.”

He followed you down the hallway, keeping several paces back to maintain a steady watching distance. He paused as he watched you and Helena head straight into the dressing room.

Sitting on the sofa inside is Harley, Cass, and a little girl sleeping in Harley’s arms. You were shocked. For a four year old girl, Ayala was incredibly small and fragile looking. Her olive skin and auburn hair is just like her elder sister’s. The hollows beneath her eyes are dark and colored by her greenish veins.

“Let’s scadadle,” Harley hissed as she rose to her feet, though struggling to keep Ayala in her arms.

You all rushed out of the hallway, quickly as to make it before Carmen could come back from the arena.

“Where’s the exit?” Cass asked.

“It’s this way,” Helena says. She pointed straight down the hallway. “The car’s waiting for us above the trap door.”

“Yeah, unless someone stole it,” Cass mocked. “What if we get locked in? Like in Hotel California?”

You could hardly begin to understand what Cass was saying. Her words were jumbles of sounds and her figure a blur of her dark hair and red jacket.

“We’re not getting locked in,” Harley exclaimed. “Let’s just get outta here!”

Helena climbed up the ladder first. She punched the door up, then open. “Give me the kid,” she said quietly.

Harley struggled to lift Ayala up.

Helena scooped her easily into her strong arms. Ayala stirred awake and whined as she became more and more aware. “I want to go home,” she mumbled, her voice quiet and empty.

“We’re taking you home, pumpkin,” Helena assured the little girl. “I’ve got you.”

As Cass was going up the ladder, a loud clatter arose down the tunnel. “Uh oh, spaghetti-os,” Harley whistled. She pushed you up the ladder next. “I’ll meet you guys up there,” she promised, sounding entirely confident. “Montoya,” she whistled between her teeth. “Feel like doing some target practice?”

It was the first time all day that Montoya smiled.

As you climbed up, you heard Harley’s shrill laugh between the shots of two, little handguns.

“Into the car,” you wheezed to Cassie. She looped her arms around your waist to help you limp into your seat. “Buckled in?” you heard Helena ask the little girl. She looked so shy despite all that’s going on. The curls of her hair were brushed behind her ear as Helena held her tightly. “You’re going back to your parents.”

Harley came running out seconds later. “Let’s get this show on the road,” she exclaimed.

“You have the keys!” Cassie shouted back.

Harley jumped into the drivers seat. She honked the horn loudly. “Renee, let’s move it!”

Montoya was limping a few feet away, struggling to keep up Harley’s pace. She crawled inside and as soon as she did, Harley pressed the gas, and sped away.

“Smoking is so bad for you, you know that, right?” Harley chastised. “Maybe if you just used the nicotine patches I bought you for Christmas, then you wouldn’t have so much trouble keeping up with us.”

“Take the patches,” Montoya huffed, “and shove them up your ass.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. You leaned back into the headrest of the rear seats. Helena held Ayala beside you, stroking her hair gently as she held her cellphone to Ayala’s ear. Her parents were on the other end, and you could hear the cries of relief.

You met Helena’s gaze, and you managed a smile on your busted mouth.

“I love you,” you mouth to her.

“I love you, too,” she replied.

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