#shuddup harley

[softneonnblm]

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youve got to be fucking kidding me

#ask #shuddup harley

[guardian-rocket]

Of all my time here I wanted to share some of the favorite plots/RPs we’ve had of of all time, in no particular order.

Rocket getting in a drunken fender bender on Earth and drunk dialing DareDevil as his one phone call in jail and somehow getting him as a lawyer 

Bowling with Ego

Harley Quinn x Rocket (because they’re great together, shuddup)

Rocket being Nova’s adoptive dad 

Going to a Pride event with Vision (such purity, Rocket loves corn dogs) 

Rocket meeting himself and being completely logical about it.  “So… what are you exactly?  Future me? Clone? Other dimensional?  Or am I just hallucinating?”

Being in Duckburg (crossover) 

Anything with Yondu

#ooc #shitpost #mun thoughts

[crowley-in-arkham]

I fell asleep on my couch half way through Bride of Re-Animator, I think. I'm not entirely sure. Last I remember is, "He's a wife beater, Dan! Use the gun!"

I was snuggled into a blanket on the couch, legs drawn up against my body. I blinked my eyes open to a real scare: Scarecrow loomed over me.

Sunken black eyes, a wide rugged burlap grin. A hat shrouded his full upper body in darkness and straw shot out of his shoulders, like broken limbs frozen in time, from beneath heavy layered leather and burlap.

He laughed hollowly, bringing theatrically a long boney finger to the lips of his mask and cooing a "hush, child," in an eerie ridgid tone, as opposed to the smoothness I were accustomed in his voice.

The massive spectre leaned down towards me, bending at the hips like a stiff clockwork marionette. Branch-like fingers gripped hard the couch, black steel blades that looked like claws jut out from distressed holes in his gloves. I caught my breath in my throat.

He seemed to float above me, caging me between him and couch--just inches from my face. I breathed in shakily, peering into the shrouded ice-blue gaze that lingered within the mask.

"Boo."

Suddenly a piece of candy was dropped onto my cheek from a hidden hand behind the couch which made me smile.

Jon took the hat and mask off then returned to his full height. He chuckled, "Christ, damned hard to scare you with cheap tricks, huh?"

I rolled over, onto my back, then stretched out, "Already time? We were so lazy today." I groaned pathetically. I looked up at Jon with a dreamy hazy gaze, "You look good," I smiled up at him.

Chuckling at myself I added a jagged groggy, "Jesus," as I stretched and yawned.

"Coffee?"

I smiled, dazed, stumbling up to Jon. Suddenly, I wrapped my arms around him, which was met by a widened gaze and an expression any onlooker would denote as horrified.

"Boo," I cooed.

I let go of him and stretched again, "I am very much interested in that coffee."

"Why did you-"

I smiled a playfully and purred: "Because nothing scares the Scarecrow except the thought of someone getting close to him."

Jon stared at me for a moment before I waltzed down the hall to get changed.

When I got dressed, I slipped a respirator around my neck; as it was Halloween and I might as well celebrate it among the Gothamites.

I rushed out and sped to my coffee when Jon chuckled, "'O' course, yer a prepared gothamite."

Estatically I exclaimed, opening up my arms with a sudden burst of post-nap energy: "We're like a PSA!"

Jon rolled his eyes and snickered, "Shuddup."

I clamored down the stairs to flick on the hallway light and the light outside. I then unlocked the front door and the outside gate.

Jon followed behind me in a short lag watching as I was a whirlwind, the candy bowl in his hands.

"You're jus' a little energetic ball, ain't'cha?" Jon snickered, "The kids are just comin' out."

"It's Halloween," I said in a higher pitch and looked up at him, "I'm excited."

Jon raised a brow and huffed amusedly, "Christ."

The door of the complex was knocked on, and I absolutely lit up. I plucked the candy bowl from Jon and exclaimed:

"It's showtime, Jonny!"

Jon tilted his head and smirked, "Gotham's takin' it's toll on you, hun. Yer startin' to sound like Harley."

I smiled, and pulled my mask over my lips, and flicked off the hall lights, shrouding Jon, as the Scarecrow, in darkness.

I smiled softly and nodded, opening the door and letting it creak on it's hinges.

I was greeted by an air of Halloween excitement, clenching the orange bowl of candy in my hands. I smiled with my eyes at the kids dressed in an assortment of costumes: A Dracula, a witch, a superman, and a batman, greeted me at the door.

The chaperones, an adult couple in like-themed costumes, cooed softly at the kids, "What do you say?" The guardians were dressed in delightful Victorian gowns with blood dripping from one's lips and faux fangs, and the other with a bloody mess on her throat.

The kids, gleefully, said, "Trick or treat!"

I leaned down with the candy bowl, and smiled, "Well, here's a treat!"

Only for the little batman to gasp, drawing the attention of the crowd away from me.

My stomach fluttered in excitement when the boy exclaimed, not in terror but, rather, fascination--a starstruck expression on his face: "The Scarecrow!"

The women suddenly paled in the face, and behind me Jon loomed, towering over me, and, as Scarecrow, over everyone.

With a low guttural ominous chuckle he said: "Not a trick."

The ladies stared at Crane in horror, stepping back and pulling the children by the arms gently away from our door. "L-let's go, we have more houses to visit!"

"Happy Halloween," Scarecrow smiled with a slow disjointed wave as the group hurried off.

"I like your costume, Mr. Scarecrow!" Called back the little Dracula. I waved estatically at the kids as they were dragged off.

I turned and squealed at Jon as the family trailed out of sight, "Awe! They really liked you!"

"Ya see that couple?" Jon chuckled itching his skin through the burlap mask, "I thought their souls left their damn bodies soon as that kid said sumthin."

I popped my respirator, and took a fresh breath. "Oh no," I said dramatically, "I've been attacked by the Scarecrow! He's gonna get me."

Jon rolled his eyes, "You wouldn't even complain, jackass." He leaned forward and looked at the mound of candy, "Whatcha got in that bowl?"

I raised a brow, "Didn't you buy this candy?"

"Yeah, but I kinda grabbed blindly, ion know what the hell is in that."

I rolled my eyes, "Good lord, just paw through."

I watched him pluck out a small caramel candy and pop it in his mouth.

He smiled at me as another knock rung on my door, "Didn't think you'd get any trick or treaters this close to Arkham."

"I'm not that close to Arkham, besides, Otisburg is a straight shot from Wayne Manor. Everyone knows Alfred always gives the best candy in Gotham."

"Alfred?"

"Oh, Bruce’s butler."

"Bruce? You on a first name basis with Wayne?"

"He and I are-- acquainted," I chuckled, "In those few years you were in Arkham I got to know Harvey through work, then we became friends. So, by proxy, I was aquainted with Grace and Bruce."

I turned on my heel and opened the door greeted by another round of "Trick or Treat!" This time Scarecrow loomed with a different tone, sending the chaperone flying down the street with the two middleschoolers they were taking care of.

I turned and raised a brow.

"Grace?" He asked.

"Harvey's ex-fiancée."

"That man was almost married?"

"Yeah," I responded quietly. "Yeah, he was. You weren't aware?"

"Mina, I was in prison."

"You were in rehab, Jon."

"A rehabilitative penitentiary."

I shrugged, "Same difference."

"Hardly."

Jon leaned in, unusually invested, "How close are you and Bruce?"

"If you're asking if I was involved with him," I stared at Jon, slightly annoyed by his insinuation, "Absolutely not."

"Nah, I just meant how well you--" He was cut off by a knock on the door, "More kids."

I sighed and shook my head, lifting up the bowl of candy before being startled by another knock.

The knock was much louder, then a familiar voice squawked through the door:

"Mina? Mina! It's Oswald!" Oswald "The Penguin" Cobblepot called through the door in his nasaly voice. There was a pause as I heard him mutter to himself, "Right, right. I forgot she's on the second floor."

There was another pause.

Jon and I looked at one another in confusion. When I heard my phone ring upstairs, I shook my head, accepted Oswald Cobblepot was knocking, then opened the door to Oswald hunkered over his phone. He looked up and nearly leapt out of his skin.

"Good lord!" He let out his breath, "Oh, of course. Scarecrow."

Jon snickered, "Happy Halloween to ya too, Penguin."

"What are you doing here?" Oswald asked Jon, I hesitated.

"Observation. Doctor's orders," Jon stated flatly.

Oswald raised a brow.

"I-" I sighed, "I had an episode at Arkham, Jon's staying with me until I'm sound."

Oswald looked at me with a dark brown gaze, dissatisfied with my answer.

"And your patients?"

"Under either Jeramiah or Hugo's care for the time being."

"Why're you here, Penguin?" Jon had taken his mask off and folded his arms, staring down at Oswald with a raised brow.

"I have a name, you cretin," Oz snapped.

"Sorry, "Oswald", lemme reiterate: What the hell're you doin' here?" Jon spat.

I was confused, and irritated, by Jon and Oswald's hostility towards one another.

Oswald fixed his bowtie and chortled a nasaly laugh: "I was passing through on my way to Mr. Wayne's Halloween party this year. I thought I'd stop by and check in on my favorite doctor. Of course, not you, Jonathan."

"Oh, right," I said through clenched teeth. Bruce hosts a party every Halloween, and without fail, he puts me on the guest list every year. I very seldom go: I'm not fond of parties.

"Why I sense bullshit, Cobblepot?" Jon stared at Penguin with a hard expression, his voice growing more rigid.

"Of course," Oz muttered. Oswald sighed and rolled his hand in a gesture, dramatically saying, "Because you're paranoid, Jonathan! Afraid of having someone usurp all that control of yours, right, Crowley."

"D'I needa show you why I'm the master a' fear?" Jon growled, making pinch the skin between my eyes before I stepped between the two birds in my apartment building and motioned a yield in hopes of quelling the incoming.

"Oh, don't get your panties in a bunch, you mutated hay bale."

It didn't do much.

Jon seethed in his spot, shooting a, by all accounts (save oswald's), terrifying look at the shorter man. I'm surprised he seemed so unbothered by it, I'd probably have recoiled into my skin.

"Let's relax," I stated flatly, knowing full well the irony of the frustrated tone of my voice, "Oswald, we should catch up another time;" I said, "I don't want you to be late to Bruce Wayne's affair because of me, after all."

I motioned Jon up the stairs, which he followed: looking like a prickling cat. Then, I basically shoved Oswald out the door of my apartment complex with a fractured smile, "Sorry, Oswald, I just can't deal with an angry Scarecrow tonight: uh, tell Bruce I said hello, would you? And-- tell Alfred that I'm terribly sorry I couldn't make it again this year. I'll visit soon."

Oswald chuckled, and motioned dramatically, "Of course, of course, Crowley. You should make it to the Iceberg Lounge sometime! Bring your dog too! Why not? I'm sure he could do well taken down a few notches."

I sighed, "If I have the time, I'll stop by. Preferably without my Arkham babysitter."

"You sound like Harvey saying that," Oswald joked.

I mumbled to myself, "In more ways than one."

Oswald turned on his heel and gestured dramatically: "Iceberg Lounge, Miss Crowley! I've a few things to discuss with you about, perhaps the future of Arkham Asylum? Perhaps the future of Gotham? My electooooral campaign?" He chortled, "I'm always free when it comes to you, my dear. Just stop by, have a drink!"

I closed the front gate as the matte black car sped off. I closed the door, and shut the lights off to the downstairs.

"He never stops in," I said, entering my apartment and closing the door behind me, "What was that about?"

"Probably knew I was here," Jon said. He sat haphazardly on my couch again, this time the mask sat beneath his hat on the coffee table.

"He knew you weren't a-"

"He's been in on it the whole time."

I pinched the skin between my eyes, growling quietly before bursting out: "How deep does this fucking lie run? If you're going to be crashing on my damn couch for the next week-- Christ, or in my bed again! I need you to cut the fucking bullshit, Jonathan. Just be fucking transparent for one damn moment in our relationship, is that so much to ask?"

Jon looked at me with a surprised expression, stumbling over what to say momentarily.

"Mina I-"

"Just- be quiet," I massaged my right temple with the pads of my fingers, "Things just don't change, do they?"

I turned on my heel and made my way to my bedroom; Victor glued to my ankle. I closed the door.

It was that soft blue darkness it was the night before, kids still sounded out the window. I sat on my bed, before flopping onto my back, Victor opting to lay directly on top of me.

"Hey buddy," I said to the fluff, "You never really hear me yell, do you?"

A duet of big green eyes looked down at me.

"I'm sorry," I sighed, ruffling the hair between his ears, "I just-- expect him to be better than he is."

The cat looked at me blankly and I chuckled, "Yeah. It's dumb, isn't it? I'm asking a lot out of a former terrorist."

Victor purred, blinking slowly at me.

"He was never a good man," I chuckled, "but he was-- and is a man I respect."

I moved Victor off of me, and curled into a more comfortable spot on the bed, Victor rejoining me.

"Am I just holding onto the memory of a man that never was, Victor?"

The cat didn't react.

There was a sound of a chattering beak, followed by a disjointed, "Yes, you are."

I let out a sigh, and pulled a blanket up, placing a kiss on the cat's head. "I'm sorry for rattling off. Goodnight, Victor."

I closed my eyes, pulling the blanket over my shoulder at another chattering sound.

"Goodnight, Carrion."

#crowley in arkham #arkham asylum #batman rogues #dc comics #batman villains #dc universe #working at arkham #gotham rogues #jonathan crane

[intercoursefluids]

Grumpy Cat

“ Kit Noir? What are you doing up here?”

Robin lands on the roof behind her, she usually runs away whenever she catches sight of him, something that he never understood in the first place.

Approaching Harley Quinn’s “Apprentice” Robin can’t help but have his guard up.

Kit Noir has never attacked him, she’s always stuttering and tripping over her words, before throwing whatever it is she had been attempting to steal at him and bolting away.

Her silence was…

Unnerving.

“Noir? Is something the matter?”

Nothing.

“Noir~ Are you even listening?”

Her tail flicks behind her, her false (He has his doubts) Cat ears twitching towards him.

So she is listening.

She just wants to be a brat today.

“Are you going to tell me what's wrong or should I start arresting you now?”

She whips her head around to glare at Robin, cat eye narrowing behind her mask (There's no way in hell her ears, tail, and eyes are all fake, they move too well for that).

“Excuse me?! What the hell did I do to you? Why on Earth would you arrest me?!”

He raises an eyebrow, completely unimpressed with her response.

She did respond though…

Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to push her buttons just a little…

“You have had a warrant out for your arrest for 3 months now, Noir. Why wouldn’t I be arresting you? It’s my job.”

He walks closer, tilting her head up with a finger under her chin.

“Although I suppose we can use a different kind of handcuffs, if you want to that is. I may even need to tie you up some, you know, to make sure you don’t escape.”

As expected a bright blush rises to her cheeks, her pupils visibly dilating as she stares at him.

What was not expected was how the blush almost immediately disappeared and her cat ears flattened against her head.

Robin pulls his hand away from her chin, instead placing it against her cheek.

“Not today?”

Kit Noir pushes her face against his hand, her own coming up to wrap around his wrist.

“Not right now at least.”

A tentative smirk reaches his face, not sure if she would be mad for what he was about to say or if she would find it funny.

“Oh~? So maybe later then?”

She snorts.

“Shuddup Robin.”

She pulled away from him and sat at the edge of the building.

Sitting beside her he gently taps her arm waiting for her to turn towards him.

As soon as she does, he opens his arm wide in a silent invitation.

She practically melts against him, leaning all of her weight onto him in the hug.

He takes her hair out of the braid and runs his fingers through it, taking the chance to appreciate the city skyline.

...

Wtf is that rumbling noise???

It's not like any bike he’d ever heard, not like that Batmobile either…

Wait a minute…

“Are- are you… purring ?”

She freezes against his chest, the rumbling stuttering for a minute before starting back up louder than before.

She groans burying her face in his chest while he tries not to laugh at her embarrassment.

“Shut your trap, Robin. You’re hearing things.”

A snort escapes him as he rubs her shoulder.

“Well aren’t you one Grumpy Cat, or should I say, a Grumpy Kitten.”

…

Maybe he’s been spending too much time with Nightwing.

Kit Noir wines from her position in his lap, tilting her head up to meet his eyes.

She purses her lips, glaring and letting out one very decisive word before collapsing back onto him.

“Shut.”

#daminette #maribat community #Daminette December #maribat event #ml x dc #maribat #maribat fluff #maribat fanfic #dc x mlb #damian x marinette #maribat au

[starshineandbooks]

Things are better if I stay...

word count: 4,105

Title from Helena by My Chemical Romance

Ao3

Warnings: MAJOR CHARTER DEATH! Angst, dealing with the death, after life, trauma, blood, gore, attempted murder, accidental murder, successful murder, Murderous! Virgil (He isn’t the killer) LOGAN ANGST! Fuck it, everyone hurts. Also not beta read

Pairings: LAMP, Thomas/Harley (Heart)

For @tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors‘ Laoft au LOGAN ANGST

Summary: A coup gone wrong ends Logan’s life early, even by human standards, he dies and his loved ones are left to pick up the pieces. 

AKA: I got sad so I took my emotional support character from not only the fandom but the LAOFT AU specificaly, and killed him. Oops.

Logan wasn’t supposed to be there, he never was. It was meant for his husband, for Virgil. A plan made by drunken faeries to throw a coup, and try to over through Virgil.

   Virgil who was at home with their daughter. Virgil who was the faerie prince. Virgil who would later be very very murderous.

   Logan strides through the door of the faerie hill,making sure he has everything in his satchel, eyes falling to the crunching leaves under foot. He sighs, the autumn air chilly this evening, just this side of unpleasant.

   The next time Logan has to go and get Bell’s lesbian out of trouble he’ll have to have a real coming to Jesus with Bell. Logan shakes the thought from his mind, he must be spending too much time with May.

   “Help!” A voice calls, and Logan goes still.

   Logan is not delusional, he is still in a decidedly Fae part of the woods, and voices from an unseen source are definitely not to be trustable.

   “HELP ME!” It rings again.

   A second voice sounds, “No, you’ll draw attention.”

   The second voice sounds like that of an injured man.

   Logan swallows, he can’t leave them here. The voices, they’re those of his mortal husbands. Logan could never just leave them there.

   Logan has never been very good at rationing things when he is distressed for a loved one.

   He doesn't care, he runs to the right suddenly, following the calls for help that are in Patton’s voice, broken and brittle like glass shards. Scared, almost as chilling as when he’d been confronted with the Roman the serpent king owned, the night Roman.

   Logan doesn't feel the first arrow until the second one is hitting.

   Each arrow goes to his chest, hitting vital organs, and making him bleed entirely too much. He feels each arrow, fifteen in total, hit him, piercing through his skin and muscles, flowers growing from his wounds and hurting him further.

   Logan crumples and hears an exchange of words that worry him.

   “Oh fuck- That’s snowmelt! Oh we are so dead!”

   “You are so dead, I didn’t shoot the arrows.”

   “That won’t matter when the witch hears about it.”

   Logan swallows hard, eyes glazing over and heart racing, what if they get Virgil next?

   “Virg-” HIs throat is too full of sharp bloody shards of pain to continue.

   “Logan?!” Virgil calls, appearing, it’s pretty hard for the magic in Logan’s bracelet to not let Virgil know of Logan’s condition.

   Virgil scans the area just long enough to feel terrified before he looks to the ground and feels something far, far more potent than the terror of a few seconds before.

   “Logan- This- This isn’t funny! Come on, get up! Get up, get up you- you- you incredibly wonderful man, get up!” Virgil shrieks, knees feeling weaker than they have in years.

   “Get up.”

   Logan swallows hard and manages, “I would like that very much, yes.”

   “Then get up!”

   “It seems as though I cannot at the moment, darling.” Logan coughs hard, lungs rattling and blood coming to splatter his face and arm as Logan tries to cover his mouth.

   “Logan,” Virgil says, sinking to his knees in a surly undignified matter.

   Not that Virgil could care in even the slightest with Logan bleeding out on the forest floor, in front of him no less. This isn’t right. This isn’t okay. Nothing is okay and he’s going to lose Logan isn’t he?

   What is he going to tell PAtton and Roman? Kai, Sloane, Remy, Emilie, everyone else? What will he tell Linda? Or Dot and LArry?

   God, what will he tell Thomas?

   “Pretty stars tonight,” Logan rasps, eyes falling from the sky back to Virgil, “darling?”

   “Yeah,” Virgil nods, he’ll alway agree with his husbands.

   But right now Logan could say he’d never loved Virgil, and wanted to marry the serpent king but married Virgil to spite the unseelie, and that Logan had never loved anyone, and that Virgil deserved to be tortured, and Virgil would agree. Virgil would agree to anything.

   “Don’t be sad, love.” Logan says weakly, reaching for Virgil.

   Except that.

   How could Virgil ever possibly not be sad over this?!

   “Logan,” Virgil sobs, eyesight blurring at an alarming rate. But he takes Logan’s hand between his own two gently, “Logan don’t, I can get us to May.”

   Virgil focuses everything he has on taking Logan to May, the shadows closing in around them, he won’t lose Logan too. Never, Logan isn’t- Logan’s not even old enough to die by human standards!

   A startled shriek from Patton on the couch followed by a gasp and a call for mAy in about three voices.

   Virgil’s own, if anyone was really listening, was distorting and turning decidedly non human, and much more eldritch horror-y than not.

   “Shhh,” Logan shushes, “Don’t -Linny’s asleep.”

   Virgil snaps back around to give Logan a very dirty look, how dare Logan shush him when Logan is literally dying. Oh god, Logan is dying- this isn’t right. Nothing is right-

   “Everyone get the hell away from Logan.” May snaps, stomping forward with a black bag with pastel paisley embroidered on it and her duck slippers.

   Virgil growls low, in the back of his throat, and not even he is sure what the sound most resembles.

   May stares at Logan and she shakes her head with a sigh, “Logan, baby, why on God’s green earth would ya decided to become target in target practice, ya mongrel!? Are ya tryin’ ta kill me early?”

   Logan stares just a little more blank than anyone would like at May’s face, “Nana-”

   “Don’t you dare start some goodbye speech.”

   And as if the moment could not get any worse, as if the universe hadn’t just done the not only unthinkable, but the also unforgivable by promising Logan chronic pain if not death, banshee shrieking starts up in the yard.

   The snarl that leaves Roman as he drags Patton into the yard is much more threatening than Virgil thinks he’s ever heard.

   “‘M sorry.” Logan rasps, a gurgle following before he swallows as hard as he can, “nd I love you, and all o’ them. Don’- d-”

   “Logan don’t you dare,” May snaps wetly, “Don’t you dare! Just hold on!”

   She sets a hand on his shoulder and starts digging through her bag hastily with the other.

   “Don’ let them be too sa-”

   “Logan, I’ll kill you if you do this.” She growls, pulling a bottle from the bag and opening it quickly before doing her level best to get it down Logan’s throat.

   Logan swallows the liquid as best he can around the lack of control over his muscles he has going on. His eyes fall to Virgil’s, trying to plead Virgil to do something. To ease the pain.

   And what Virgil wouldn’t do for those quick silver eyes.

   “Have I told you about how I love you? Well, I’ll tell you again.” Virgil’s voice starts to lessen in distortion and grows more and more alike to the moon breaching the broken ice of a pond.

   Logan’s breathing becomes more and more shallow, and even harder to keep up. His lungs rattle with every breath now, and his blood collects in his throat.

   And Virgil talks, he isn’t quite sure what he’s saying, and from the looks of it, neither is Logan. May has turned her back on them, oddly quiet.

   Then, “Vatti?”

   A small voice, a girl’s voice. Linda’s voice.

   As if shocked, Logan tries to get to see his baby one last time, figure out why she sounds so broken.

   Linda slowly steps forward, “VAtti, what- Is he-”

��  “Go upstairs, Linny.” May says, voice making Virgil think on those spiky balls from the trees everyone uses around christmas, sometimes called a witch burr, but as miserable as wet socks.

   “Mamaw-”

   “Upstairs Linda Marie.”

   Linda casts a look to Logan and chokes, “Papa-”

   “He loves ya, now go upstairs.”

   “Mamaw-”

   “Now. One.”

   “But-”

   “Two, Miss Linny I’ll tan yer hide if ya make me get ta three.”

   “I love you papa,” Linda says before running upstairs to try to pray this all into some twisted, dark, horrendous nightmare.

   Virgil looks down just in time to watch the life and fight leave Logan’s eyes, and oh, that’s a rather dull look in those eyes. Isn’t it?

   “What’ll we tell Thomas?” Virgil asks after a pause of who knows how long, but more than he could bear.

   “The truth, I’d imagine.”

   “You want to tell Logan that his brother was murdered in cold blood in the middle of  faerie?” Virgil growls, then growls lower, “He was killed in the middle of my land.”

   “So he was.”

   “I have business as soon as we finish telling the others.” Virgil sneers, “Someone is going to answer for all of this.”

   May turns after a moment, “You won’t be going alone.”

   “We’ll see you hag.”

   “Shuddup.” May scoffs.

   And if the two are teary or maybe even crying, neither says anything, just this once.

   ----------

   Virgil doesn't know when Patton and Roman came in, only that he hadn’t gone to bed yet. Having instead opted to sit in Logan’s garden, out back.

   “Virgil?” Roman asks after a moment, sitting on the ground beside his husband. “Did- Was he in pain-”

   Virgil snorts, “No, he was only murdered and shot full of arrows, he wasn’t in-” Virgil promptly shuts his mouth before sighs, “I- I am sorry. That was cruel.”

   “Just- just a little, sweetie.” Patton ists on Virgil’s otherside, and Virgil isn’t sure when that happened either.

   “We have to tell the others, his parents. We have to tell Thomas,” Virgil croaks, “How are we meant to tell Thomas?”

   “Linda said she saw him.” Roman supplies, “So, uh, there’s that.”

   Virgil forces himself to look at Roman, and he nearly screams when he sees the look upon Roman’s face. Whether in protective rage or broken sobs, Virgil’s isn’t sure, so he bites it back.

   “He uh- God!” Virgil mutters something unkind under his breath about himself and words before managing, “He said we shouldn’t be sad. What the fuck does that mean?!”

   Patton gives a laugh, and the underlying tone of a glass bell breaking as it rings isn’t unnoticed by Virgil. Virgil turns his head to see Patton and that was also a bad choice. It seems Virgil is only capable of making incredibly, spectacularly horrid decisions tonight.

   “Just like him,” Roman shakes his head, setting his hands palm down on his knees and squeezing, “always so dismissive of his own worth!”

   A thick, suffocating, decidedly sharp silence settles over the three. None of them quite touch the others, but they all want to.

   To everyone’s surprise, it’s Mamaw who breaks the silence by walking into the backyard. Hands on her hips, “It’s three thirty in the morning, get yer asses in bed. This ain’t gonna be an easy recovery but we all know Logan’d have our hides if we let it tear us apart.”

   “Mamaw,” Roman croaks weakly, turning to see his grandmother, “You can’t mean-”

   “I mean what I said, Roman. Get yourselves in the house, or the faerie hill or somewhere else, but ya better sleep. We’re all going over to the Sanders house as soon as the sun comes up, because tonight’s a full moon and I am not going ta loose more o’ ya.”

   “We should go there now.” PAtton says softly, “They’ll be angry if we put it off.”

   “But-”

   “I’ll go.” Virgil pushes to his feet, eyes finding the moon, not technically full, tomorrow night it will be though.

   “Virgil-”

   Virgil turns to face the humans, his humans, “You could come, if you like. I would not blame you if you stayed though.”

   “We-”

   “You two are decidedly human, yer stayin’ right here.” May says sharply, “and Virgil will be back by breakfast.”

   “Yes, by breakfast.” Virgil says, though he isn’t sure when it is, or whether it will be this particular breakfast.

   May nods, corralling PAtton and Roman into the house, and onto the couch, because she isn’t fool enough to think they’d sleep in the bed all four shared. Three now.

   ----------

   Thomas shrieked when Virgil appeared in his bedroom, waking a worried Harley with said shriek.

   “Oh- goodness! Virgil-”

   “I didn’t mean to come to this room.” Virgil whispers softly, “I’m sorry.”

   “It’s fine, force of habit, I mean, Logan used to share this room with me and-”

   Virgil gives a choked sob at his husband’s name.

   “Is Logan sick or something?” Thomas staggers out of bed quickly, grabbing a shirt from the floor.

   “They-” Virgil shakes his head, “He’s dead. Dead, dead, dead.”

   Thomas goes silent and Harley mutters a curse word.

   “Well, I suppose we’d better go downstairs then.” Thomas sighs, shaking his head, “And, you’re sure he’s y’know, gone?”

   Virgil gives an indignant sound, “As if I didn’t watch it happen.”

   “Okay.” Thomas walks to stand by Virgil, and he just pulls the taller man into a hug, “It’ll be okay.”

   “How are you so-”

   “Calm?” Thomas gives a laugh, “I'm not awake and haven’t processed it yet, give me a bit.”

   “O-oh.”

   “I’ll go get- uh- yeah.” Harley finishes lamely, striding out of the room.

   Brian rushes into the room, “Linda’s upset, she said-”

   “I heard,” Thomas sighs, “Brian it’s threey forty ish, why’re you even awake?”

   “Had a nightmare, ‘nd I didn’t wanna bother anyone, but kitty’s always there.”

   Virgil sighs, finally wrapping Thomas up in a hug. “I’m sorry.”

   “It wasn’t your fault.”

   “You can’t know that!”

   “I do. You’d never hurt any of them, let alone kill.” Thomas says thickly, “”mon then, we’d better go tell mom and dad.”

   “I’m still sorry.”

   Virgil is led downstairs and sat on the couch, in Logan’s spot on the couch. And if that doesn't just make him want to scream, cry, or through a tantrum he isn’t sure what does.

   He is vaguely aware of voices, and a conversation happening, but he couldn’t tell you who was speaking or what was being said.

   “Virgil,” Logan’s voice insists urgently, and he knows it’s just his mind being cruel. Logan can’t be here, Logan’s gone.

   “Virgil!” Thomas says louder, setting a hand on his shoulder, “Hey bud- we uh-”

   “We- was he in pain.”

   Virgil just nods slowly, “Uh- yeah, arrows do that.”

   “He was-” Dot swallows hard.

   “Y-yeah. Well, I should go. I’m sorry I don’t uhm- I don’t wanna intrude-”

   “You can stay.” LArry offers weakly, “You’re family.”

   “I have business to attend to.” Virgil says finally, “The sooner I start the sooner the bastards that killed him are found.”

   “O-oh.”

   “Hey uhm….” Thomas sighs before he just goes for it, “You’re family Virgil, don’t disappear on us. Please. And don’t you dare disappear on your daughter and husbands.”

   “But-”

   “You better come back on friday, we’ll have a big family dinner, all the gang.”

   “But.”

   “You’ll be here.” Thomas says, “And you’ll do it.”

   “Thomas-”

   “Go home, see your husbands.” Harley says finally, “It’ll do you some good.”

   Virgil looks to Harley, startled, “But-”

   “Go.”

   ----------

   Virgil appears in the kitchen to his own house after a stop to demand Bell and white to start an investigation. It involved Bell and WHite berating him for abandoning the living husbands.

   Virgil finds Patton and Roman on the couch, tangled to gether. Tear tracks staining their faces, but their breathing deep and even, they’re asleep.

   Virgil goes about lifting them, and carrying them to the guest room, curled together and clinging to each other in his arms.

   He sets them on the bed and sits on the edge, he won’t be sleeping tonight, or maybe ever again.

   Linda stands in the doorway, “Vatti?”

   Virgil turns, he’s never been good at ignoring, let alone denying his daughter anything, especially such a thing as comfort.

   “C’mere liebling.” Virgil says gently, holding his arms out.

   Linda rushes forward, burying herself in Virgil’s arms and chest, clambering into his lap. Virgil hugs her as tight as he can while she still breathes.

   “Vatti, I- Will he come back like Gretta did?”

   “No.” Virgil says, “No.”

   “Oh. Good. But uhm…. Are you all going to leave too?”

   “No liebling.” Virgil says, “I would never leave you.”

   “But- what about daddy and pop?”

   “Oh, liebling,” Virgil hums gently, “Not on purpose. But they’re human, they’ll die eventually. You and I will still be here though.”

   “O-oh.” Linda says weakly, “But why-” she cuts off and a sob wracks her body.

   “Because liebling, life isn’t fair.” Virgil says, not quite sure what she was going to ask but knowing it wasn’t about to be pleasant.

   “I hate this.” She whispers, “It’s- it’s- it’s atrocious.”

   Virgil gives a cut off sob at her choice of words, “Oh liebling, you’ll be the smartest one in the family as you get older.”

   “Don’t wanna be the smartest, I want my papa.” She says petulantly.

   “I know.” Virgil says gently. “I know.”

   ----------

   Logan wakes up. To his surprise, in no pain and under a blue sky with those puffy white clouds. A large dog barks excitedly at him, so he pushes to his feet and tilts his head, watching the creature.

   It barks again, turning tail and running to the edge of a tree line before turning to bark once more. Ah, Logan supposes he’s meant to follow the dog?

   Logan shrugs, then laughs at himself, no one is around to see such a slip of self control after all. He follows the dog, noting the trees to be apple trees.

   As the dog leads him he finds himself wondering where his husbands are and- oh. Yes. He is dead then?

   He looks up to a startled gasp, finding a woman with inky hair and her hands on her hips.

   “Logan Sanders.” She snaps, cuffing the back of his head, “You left them?!”

   “I didn’t mean to.” Logan says, rubbing the back of his head in an attempt to soothe it, “Who are you and why did you hit me?”

   “You’re a moron, you know that?!” The woman scoffs, “Askin’ who I am, if Virgil didn’t-”

   “You’d be Gretta then.” Logan snorts, “You look better than last time I saw you.”

   “I’d hope.” She crosses her arms stiffly, glaring at Logan.

   Logan sighs, “He uhm…. Virgil misses you still. A lot, and as someone who ate your biscuit recipe product, may I just ask, do you know how spices work?”

   Greta scoffs, “If it ain’t broke ya don’t fix it! Yer insufferable.”

   Logan shakes his head, “I am sorry it was rude to say that I suppose I’ve spent too much time with Kai and Virgil.”

   “It’s fine, Logan.” Gretta shrugs, “I figure I have eternity to make you like my cooking.”

   “I see. Yes, I suppose so. But first, if I truly am dead, I think I have a snake to slap.”

   “What?”

   “I am less and less fond of the snake king every time Roman reveals another bit of past, I wish to slap the bastard out of the usurper.”

   “Oh.” Gretta blinks, a cheshire grin spreading over her lips, “Let me get Trudi and we’ll all go with ya.”

   “Very well.” Logan nods, eyes observing the people in the distance.

   “I think,” Gretta says, “This is the start of a wonderfully elaborate prank on my brother. Don’t you?”

   “Maybe.”

   “Well, c’mon, we’d better hurry up, I know Abbey’ll wanna see you. Not sure why, you aren’t nearly as pretty as Virgil was, but he wasn’t shit either.”

   Logan laughs softly, “Oh, you’re a little softer than he said-”

   Gretta cuffs the back of his head again, “Shut up ya overgrown pixie.”

   “O-oh.” Logan freezes, ‘Oh god Virgil- I left them. All of them- Thomas, my husbands, my parents, my friends.”

   “Oh, yes, crying fixes it.”

   Logan grabs Gretta’s wrist tightly, “No, you don’t get it. I left all of them, but I also left my baby. She is ten. My ten year old daughter saw me just as I was dying.”

   “Oh.” Gretta blinks, “That’s uhm- Let’s go get Abbey, she’ll be better equipped for emotions.”

   “I just want to go home!” Logan snaps, “Please?!”

   “Ya can’t, Logan. Yer here now.”

   “Thanks, I hate it.” Logan croaks, his voice cracking like thin ice over a lake, and he plunges into the darkness below.

   “Oh- ABIGAIL GAUGE!”

   “YEAH?!”

   “C’MERE WOULD YA?! LOGAN’S HERE EARLY AND HAVING A PITY PARTY AND I CAIN’T HELP ‘IM!” Gretta calls, flinching as Logan collapses into her.

   She awkwardly wraps her arms around him, patting him stiffly, “There there. Strange faerie I don’t know well who’s sobbin’ inta my shirt.”

   “Virgil used to talk like that.” Logan says miserably, “I miss him.”

   “Ah, I know, little gremlin weaves his way into your heart and then you lose him.” Gretta mutters, “C’mon Logan you can’t mean to cry forever.”

   “I might.” Logan petulantly mumbles.

   “Logan, baby, that you?” A second woman’s voice sounds, “God, you’re bigger than I remember for sure.”

   Logan turns slowly, finding a fiery redhead, “Who- Who are you?”

   “I go by Abbey,” She shrugs, “I’m Roman’s mom.”

   “Mom and dad talked about you sometimes.”

   “Ye-ah, well, I talk about them sometimes too.” Abbey holds a hand out, “C’mon baby, we’ll get you settled and calmed down, then we can go wherever you like.”

   Logan takes Abbey’s hand, flinging his arms around her, feeling an oddly deep connection he didn’t know existed with this woman who looks just enough like Roman to hurt.

   And maybe it takes Logan a while to settle, sometimes it still hurts. But he does end up slapping Durrant, multiple times, Gretta, Trudi, and Abbey also join the slapping the bastard out of Durrant party.

   Virgil sees the poor faeries who killed Logan to a public execution. But it doesn't do anything to fix the ache Logan’s loss created. He’s more protective of his loved ones, each and every one of them. Especially Linda.

   Linda who may not look like Logan, but shares in the ability to grow plants. Linda who has taken up the habit of reading herself to sleep with dictionaries. Linda, who will outlive Virgil, god willing that is.

   Patton heals slowly, they all do, but Patton lost not only his husband, but his very first friend. Patton lost the man who he did his first play date with. Patton lost a lot when Logan left them, but he healed slowly.

   Roman becomes more reckless at first, he couldn’t care less, if he dies he can see Logan again. He eventually, through therapy Emilie provides -who else?- realizes that he still has so much to live for. It gets a little easier, but Roman internalizes it, that two men he’s loved dead, what if Patton aor Virgil is next?

   Virgil, Patton, and Roman’s marriage is strained at first. They still love each other, and that would never change, but the dynamic changed. They were mourning, and breaking, and not talking about it. Again. After a year and Linda sobbing and asking if they’re going to break up and leave her too, they go to counseling, which, helps. It isn’t perfect, and they’ll alway be missing their last piece, they won’t be whole. But, they’re better, they’re marriage isn’t strained.

   Thomas withdrew from the world, only really talking to Harley and Brian. He lost his best friend in the whole world, his barley younger but still baby, brother. He lost his partner in crime, his childhood memory. Now Thomas only knows half of everything, where as before Thomas knew half of everything, so did Logan, so they knew everything.

   May got crankier. May lost another kid she’d loved to a horrible accident. Another kid she couldn’t save. May lives in the past for a while, but she knows the drill, she’s probably the best prepared.

   Dot and Larry stop going in public when avoidable. They cry together, and the gp to therapy. They lost their child, and so much more. They lost not just Logan, but almost Thomas too.

   Kai doesn't make fun of Logan anymore, he misses the nerd.

   Sloane and Corbin try to keep Thomas company when they can, but they all have lives of their own.

   Elliot spends a lot of time with Virgil, maybe they weren’t as close to Logan, but they did count him a friend.

   Remy and Emilie while they mourn and definitely are a little strained and weary, they make sure the others have groceries and therapy. They do their level best to help the others when they can.

#sanders sides #laoft #major character death #blood #arrows #gore #after life #sanders sides angst #DEAD! Logan Sanders #romantic lamp

[dorkygurl-89]

Future plans for dorky cause i'm not patient enough

(Yes i know her outfit is based off of Harley's outfit. Shuddup.)

So, when dorky is about 17, i actually want her to be more deranged and dangerous thanks to some not so helpful advice from shadow dorks. And i plan for something to happen to her when she's 16 that'll make her embrace her royalty side (hence why her hair is bleached at the tips since we established that her real hair color is blue). And i also want to go into more adult themes as well. But until then, we'll just have to deal with the blue jacket dork.

(i might go back to the blue jacket. I already miss it TmT)

#fnw39 #timeline #future plans

[cinawolf]

HARLEY X IVY STANS ,,THE HARLEY QUINN AND POISON IVY your hatred humanity and men and the lesbians genocidal maniacs, false heroines  and that she and eco-terrorist not welcome here by justice league touch finger on son of krypton like KA-EL, CLARK KENT, SUPERMAN and while not admitting and accepting the truth ,honesty ,innocent and bisexual and  now you undestand?

Oh shuddup, you didn't notice that this one is of a blog who simps Riddler/Edward Nygma(Edward Nashton) and you will leave me alone or i will report your bloody f***ing rude ask about it and you'll never stalk me again. Listen; i headcanon Harley Quinn/Harleen Quinzel & Poison Ivy/Pamela Lillian Isley bisexual; i pair them with womens and mens, and too me they're still villains. My honestly opinion is i see Clark Kent/Superman hetero but i low-key ship him with Bruce Wayne/Batman. I'm respecting other's opinions.

Okay rude anonymous now leave me alone!

#TW Swearing #THIS GUY NEEDS TO LEARN RESPECTING LESBIANS! #Nice anonymous are welcome to me but not rudr anonymous

[kiillerthighs]

“For the sweet love of Kylie! Shuddup, Harls! You’re making my head hurt!”

HARLEY WAS GETTING annoyed with Boomer not paying attention to her plans. He says she makes his head hurts? Now it's about to hurt for real. She picked her bat and swinging hitting on his head, not to killing him, just enough force to knocked him out. Besides, he'd get over it. ❛ That's a killer migraine, I'll tell ya, 'cuz I've got that a long throughout my life. ❜ So much concussion... The jester was planning on put him on her car, and bring him home. Maybe she could count on Nanaue to carry Boomer to the car.

@captainboomer

#captainboomer #i'm sorry boomy #tw: violence

[bubblegumxbullets-blog]

Old Habits Die Hard.

Well, this was...interesting. Harley hadn’t planned to spend her night meeting up with someone, let alone J. Ooh..if Ivy ever got word....bah, she wouldn’t. What she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. Right? Right. She was always encouraging her to make her own decisions anyway, and she was. 

Plus, Harley needed something to do. She was going stir crazy all cooped up in her apartment, something was bound to happen anyway. Chaos was more fun in pairs! 

It didn’t take her long to get ready, he’d said he was sending her something to wear so she’d opted for something simple clothing wise until she reached her old stomping grounds. And by 9:00? She’d managed to pack a bag and be on her way. The place on Cony Island had a few of her things still there, enough for her to finish whatever outfit he’d dropped off for her. 

“Alright, alright....stop here.” The henchman raised a brow but stopped the delivery van that served as her transport vehicle. “...Er, ya’ sure this is the place boss? I mean...it don’t look like no hideout..” Harley’s eyes rolled as leans to open the passenger's side door. “S’cause it ain’t one.” The goon looks confused. “I used ta’ work here, sorta’...it’s’a long story. Jus’..wait fer’ my call, kay?” She slips out of the van and quickly opens the back doors of it to retrieve her bag, which she slings over her shoulder before slamming the doors shut and making her way to the front door of the apartment building. Of course, she lets herself in and makes her way up to the second floor.

Good, she’d made it. The door to her old apartment is quickly located and before anyone else can notice her, she’s making her way over to it. There’s a package in front of her door. Aw...he really did send her something to wear. What a sweetie.  Ah, no. None of that. Harley scoops the package into her arms and makes her way into the apartment. What was it? Was it a pretty dress? Her bag is dropped and she practically leaps onto the couch and unwraps the package--- Oh. This was interesting. 

“A...costume?” She blinks. Oh wait, she recognizes this. Isn’t this one of those...yes! It’s a Robin costume. What was he planning? Whatever it was, Harley could tell it was going to be fun.  The costume looks pretty standard, but the colors have changed. Instead of off red and green and gold colors, there are blues and pastel pinks. Immediately she strips and slips the costume on piece by piece. The belt’s a Little big, so it hangs slightly loose around her waist but honestly, it only adds to the charm...and what-ever-the-heck the bottom of the costume was made her legs look great. So, she’ll abandon the leggings for a pair of fishnets. Which, of course, she’d brought with her. Along with a few other random bits and pieces. 

It takes her a good fifteen minutes to touch up with some basic makeup, which for Harley means a white face and candy apple red lipstick. She looks good. She always does, and man she sure hopes he thinks so.....    Goddamnit no. This was a friendly playdate. Not a romantic one. 

She can do this. It’s going to go great. They’ll meet up, blow something up, and she’ll be on her way home.  

It was just about time to meet him, and if her driver zoomed like she’d told him to...she’d be there with a few minutes to spare. Her mallet is retrieved from her bag along with her gun, which she shoves sloppily into a thigh holster and then attaches that to her leg. Gun? Check. Mallet? Check. Phone? ...She pats down the costume as if it had pockets before bending and scooping her phone up from the floor. She shoves it into one of the pockets of the utility belt and then opts for the fire escape for a way back down to the street. Soon enough she’s back in the van and grinning. “Yer’ pretty excited about this huh boss?” The grin turns soft and she nudges the goons shoulder. “Shuddup’ and drive. I don’t wanna’ be late.” 

#ic #long post #face to face #|this took forever #sorry #also sorry for the book lol #| #Joquer

[softneonnblm]

How have you been as of late?

hiii im doing alright! lifes pretty boring rn, wish i had someone to hook up with :/

#shuddup harley

[softneonnblm]

i think amab queer people deserve to be soft and dainty and pretty and beautiful

#i know this is an nblm blog but i want to talk about being nonbinary and sometimes transfem for a sec #too often with amab bodies society portrays them as rough and tough and refuses to associate them with traditional beauty #i think we should be able to be considered beautiful bc i dont want to present fem in public and have my body be seen as messy and unkempt #in fact im very lazy and i dont want to spend a lot of time and effort into doing a shitton of work to be considered pretty! #natural amab bodies deserve to be seen as pretty and beautiful and i think itll benefit society as a whole if we start doing that #mlm #nblm #trans #nonbinary #shuddup harley

[softneonnblm]

as a queer person of color, its tragic and painful that none of the queer people i know arent white, because theres a specifiic, uniquely interconnected relationship and experience with queerness + ethnicity that i cant share personally with the people im hanging out with right now. in a space where im supposed to be seen, it sure feels like im being left out

#mlm #nblm #lgbtq #queer #shuddup harley

[softneonnblm]

hi. harley here

a few things that i need to talk about, regarding this blog, myself, and the community

firstly, i'm changing this blog's name to softneonnblm. this new name does not affect who this blog is for, namely mlm and nblm people. this also means i'll have to make a new profile picture and banner for this blog, as it no longer fits. i'm renaming this blog because of how my gender identity has changed since i started this blog nearly four or five years ago

secondly, speaking of my gender identity, i made this nblm/mlm blog as a somewhat cis, masc-leaning gay nb person. a lot has changed since then

i have a more nuanced and complex non-binary identity now, shifting between being masc and fem to the point that i consider myself trans (and sometimes transfem), something that i've been very hesitant on calling myself when i first realized i was not cis

this is the reason why i decided to rename this blog, because i dont feel like i can fully consider myself a man when my gender experience shifts and flows a lot nowadays

if this bothers you, please do whatever you need to do to distance yourself from this blog. i do not tolerate harassment and attacks.

finally, if you wish to keep following me (or even follow me because of this post, which is very sweet of you), then i wholeheartedly appreciate your support, whether you've been following me for three days or for three years. i know i've just been a random reblogger for most of my time here, so it's nice to see when i see captions and tags and notes in general on the things i reblog or even make original posts about. i see them in my notes all the time and it makes me happy seeing a lot of you talk about the things i like, even if they seem kinda trivial

thank you for being such a lovely community. even if i dont feel masc sometimes, i'll keep reblogging nblm/mlm posts because i know it holds a special place in your heart to see them on your dashboard. i'm still a queer person at the end of the day, and being queer means supporting each other no matter what.

love yall <3

harley

#mlm #nblm #shuddup harley

[softneonnblm]

lets be intimate together. you and me, just two boys laying down on a soft mattress and cuddling each other so fondly it makes me smile like the sun

#shuddup harley #mlm #nblm

[softneonnblm]

mlm nblms of color hmu lets make a group chat and be boy besties

#ironically but also unironically i need qpoc interactions in my life so bad #mlm #nblm #shuddup harley

[softneonnblm]

i wish to all the queer boys and nbys out there a beautiful and wonderful 2022

#mlm #nblm #shuddup harley