#and the thing that might kill Harley too | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

messenger-of-babel · 1 month ago

Text

Family Resemblance

Summary: You turn up on the doorstep of Wayne Manor, pleading for your brother to let you in. (Damian Wayne x sis!reader)

Word Count: 2.5K

Notes: I originally had the Harley fic for today but I can't find it??? So ofc I did what I did best and wrote an entirely new one for today. Pivoted hard too smh. I hope people enjoy it! First Damian fic for this site so I'm still getting his personality down. Hope that people enjoy him regardless, and sorry to anyone who actually checked ahead and wanted the Harley one, I'll throw it on my blog after Angstober when I find it. Much Love~! xx

━━━━━━━━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

If Damian Wayne was a spitting image of Bruce, then your mannerisms were exactly the same as Thalia's.

He had inherited the black hair and facial features of his father, something that rich Gothamites liked to point out at the galas repeatedly. However the way you held yourself on the doorstep, the tilt of your head and the shimmer in your eyes were anything but Bruce's. If he hadn't known better, he could have sworn that it was Thalia herself standing there.

"What do you want?" he asked coarsely, untrusting. His eyes flicker over you, the way your eyes are rimmed and puffy, and the frown on your face. He blocks the entrance with his body, half a mind to leave you on the doorstep.

"It's been so long since we saw each other, Damian." you say softly, frown deepening. "I thought you might be happy to see me."

He scoffs. "You're still an agent of the League." he responds. "I doubt this is a personal call."

"Well, you better believe it." you say firmly, arms hugging your side. "I'm here to request protection."

His eyebrows shoot upwards at that, leaning on the doorframe. "Yeah, right." his says, tone disbelieving. "You, a fully trained assassin, can't take care of herself? I didn't realise the League had gotten so weak in recent days."

You bristle at that, the way that you tighten your hold and your jaw, but you just turn your head away and do not say anything. Damian remembered you as a spitfire, although you both were much younger then. You had a fiercely competitive spirit, and he would frequently catch you training to surpass him. Now you were taller, facial features a little more defined. Your hair was a little different, but still the same colour he remembered. What made him suspicious however was that the pride you usually had, the sheer arrogance that came with being the grandchild of Ras Ah Ghul, was diminished. He had never seen you hang your head outside of being scolded or disciplined by the League, and he hadn't expected to see it on the doorstep of Wayne manor of all things.

"Damian, please." you say with a sigh, shaking your head in defeat. "I have nowhere to go."

He sighs but tosses his head. Sure, you were his twin, his sister, but his gut won out. "I can't let you in." he says, frowning. "The League will be mad if they know you're here. You should go home before mother finds out, if she hasn't already."

He goes to close the door, but you block it with your foot.

"I'm running from them!" you shout, eyes glossing over as you press against the door, fighting to get it open. "They're going to kill me, please Damian, please! Mother, the League, they're going to kill me." you cry, sticking an arm though the crack you've managed to hold open.

"Just what is happening here?" Comes a stern voice, followed by the clipping of dress shoes. Damian turns to see Alfred, a frown pulled over the elderly man's face. With the moment of distraction you shove the door forward, throwing Damian off balance and eh stumbles away from the door. Now that it's fully open you rush through, the tears that were brewing now dripping from the corner of your eyes.

"You have to help me." you say, lips trembling and gaze fitting between your brother and the elderly man. Alfred looks between you and Damian, who's rolling his eyes. "Don't believe them." he scoffs. Alfred looks at him with a disappointed look.

"And what makes you say that, Master Damian?"

"Because she's my sister." he huffs, pushing off from rocking on his heels. "And like our mother, she's a liar."

Alfred looks down at him in shock before turning back to you and gently grabbing your arm. He sends a pointed look to Damian. "Go fetch your father, he is in his office this evening." he says, making Damian narrow his eyes.

"You cannot be serious."

Alfred meets his stare, managing to get Damian to look away first. "I think if he has another child, he deserves to know." he says haughtily, before his face warms looking back to you. "Let's get you settled with a nice cup of tea, and you can let me know what's brought you here today, hm?" he says, making a smile ripple across your face.

"I'd like that." your sniffle, rubbing at your nose. As Alfred leads you away you send a hopeful stare to your brother, who responds with a glare before he turns on his heel.

Alfred entertains you until a man comes into the living room, well dressed but eyes are tired and lined with bags. Damian trails behind him, matching the clipped step of the older man. You meet the eyes of the man you know as Bruce Wayne, rising to your feet and giving him a slight bow. "It's a pleasure to meet you." you say softly, eyes hesitant as you look at him. A smile falls across Bruce’s face, and he crouches to your height.

"No need for formality. Damian tells me you’re his sister, is that right?" he asks softly. You study his face, and you can see your brother in his features, the lines of his chin and nose. The same black hair, same one-sided grin that falls to the left.

"That's correct, sir." you say politely. "We're twins."

Bruce hums, standing up and walking to one side of the couch to settle. "I assume you know that I'm your father then too?" he asks, and you can see in his body language that he's preparing for the chance that you weren't aware.

"I know." you say softly. "Mother told me when we sent Damian away."

You see how his eyes darken when you mention Thalia, knuckles coming up for his teeth to scrape against. Then he hums, and the hesitance that was around him fades. "Damian also tells me that you're also a part of the League." The warmth that he was holding flickers away for a brief second, and you can see the eyes of Batman studying you, even without the cowl.

You nod. "Yes sir." you say, eyes filling up once more. "I was being trained alongside Damian, and mother continued after he left. However, I made her angry, well, not her exactly..." you trail off. "I made grandfather angry."

Bruce leans forward onto his knees, and Damian sends you a quizzical glance from your peripheral vision. "You mean Ras?" he asks.

You nod, wiping your tears with your fingers before Alfred offers you the handkerchief from his pocket.

"I wanted to prove myself, but when it came to it, to having to kill someone..." you take a shaky breath. "I couldn't do it. I couldn't do something that awful. I realised that killing senselessly wasn't going to fix the world. When I refused, Grandfather chased me out. Even mother." your hands shaky as you cry into the handkerchief. "The League is hunting me, and there's never been anyone who's ever escaped their grasp. Except one." you raise your head up, eyes glistening.

"That's why I need your help." you whisper. "I know I had to find my father."

Damian makes a noise of disgust, drawing all sets of eyes to him. He comes forward, arms crossed. "You really believe her?" he asks incredulously, a hand thrown your way in distaste. "She's clearly lying."

"Damian," Bruce warns.

"No, father." he snaps back, eyes narrowing as he looks at you. "I don't know what you want, sister, but you're a liar. You've killed before. We both have, as soon as we could hold a weapon."

"But I realise it was wrong now!" you protest.” I realised that I have a choice, and I could start making my own decisions. I didn't need to kill."

"Bullshit, plus he's not your father-"

"Damian." Bruce calls, voice heavy and stern. His handsome face is sending a glare to Damian, not backing down when the boy sends once back. "That's enough."

Alfred grabs the young boy's arm, making him sit down on the couch opposite you. You turn your eyes back towards Bruce. "Please," you plead, and the older man sighs. "I don't have anywhere else to run."

Bruce wipes a hand over his face before signalling to Alfred. "Give us a moment, sweetheart." he says, standing and placing a warm hand on your shoulder. "We'll work something out, just give us a second to discuss." He sends you a smile as he and the older man leave the room, headed up the stairs, likely to his study.

That left the both of you in a room together.

It's tense between you two, and the way Damian refuses to look at you doesn't make it better. "Damian, please look at me." you say softly. "Do you really hate me that much?" you begin to cry, trying to keep the sounds sealed behind your lips. That makes Damian break, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"We aren't children anymore." he chides. "Stop crying."

"Sorry Dami." you sniffle, biting your lip. You look over to your brother, fidgeting in your spot and itching to get closer to him. however, you could tell through the body language of the young boy, that he was already closer to you than he'd like.

When you call him that nickname, he lets his shoulders sag. If he was completely honest with his feelings, he would tell you deep down that he did miss you, that he had thought of you the first time he had moved into the manor.

You were twins and were raised together, always together. You slept in the same rooms, you sparred together, you ate together, you did tasks for the League together. Leaving and going to Bruce was the first time he had ever been apart from you, and he could still recall the way you waved goodbye at him sadly when mother had taken his hand and told him he was going to carry out something important.

He had never seen you since, until now.

"I really missed you, Damian." you sniffle, giving him a hopeful smile. "I wanted my brother back. it was so lonely, so so lonely without you. I had no one to spar with, and Mother never let me see you."

"I... missed you too." he huffs out, arms crossing over his chest and your eyes brighten.

"Really?" you ask, voice hopeful. You cast a quick look the way the two older men went before standing up, hands nervously clasped in front of you. "Can I ...Can I hug you again?" your voice wavers, shaking slightly. Damian softens for only a fraction.

Just once, he'd let you hug him like before, and then you would be gone.

Out of his hair. Back to Thalia.

"Just once." he finally concedes as you come over, and he awkwardly holds his arms out once he’d stood up. When he looks down at you and your eyes meet his, he sees his twin sister from those years ago that followed him like a shadow. He saw the traces of your smile that stayed the same, the same way that mother smiled, just a tinge sweeter. However, as your arms wrapped around him and then tightened, he remembered the first thought he had when seeing you again on the doorstep, and his breath catches slightly.

Damian was a spitting image of Bruce, but you were still a mini Thalia.

He can't even push you away when he feels the shooting pain in his back, crying out before your hand clamps over his mouth to muffle the sound.

Your smile, like Thalia's, except coated in a much sweeter poison. Your eyes that were leaking tears so heavily before now cold and scornful.

Damian feels his body drop to the floor, or more accurately, he’s unable to feel his body.

There's a tingle that starts in his fingers and toes but goes up past his arms, limbs not moving when he tries to, mouth not moving in the right shape to form words. "You were so close, brother." you hum, looking down at him crumpled on the floor. The feeling of wetness begins creeping across his back into the shirt he wore, and he knows that it's most likely his blood staining his shirt. "It seems that mother was right, spending time with father has made you soft."

"Why?" he croaks out, trying to crane his head upwards weakly. His face is pressed into the carpet, and he only manages to turn it slightly.

"Because everyone loves you." you spit, and he grows confused. "Because even though you're here, and I'm still there," you hiss, waving the blade you had concealed in your sleeve, "Grandfather still wants you to be the Demons Head. The same way that he wanted father to be his predecessor. Even though I've killed, razed cities, hunted criminals just to show him how much more capable I was than you."

Your words drip with a cold malice, a cruel flicker of your lips pulling in a grin. "But you are right. Mother doesn't know that I'm out. She would forbid me from killing you, but it isn't her decision." you say with a roll of your eyes, as if this situation was all too regular for you. Damian's vision is beginning to grow blurry, the ache turning into a sting and finally a burn that began consuming his back. He groans in pain, the wound angry and he shifts it slightly.

"Now they'll finally see." you say, voice wavering. tears spring back to your eyes, and he can tell that these ones are real this time. You clean the knife with the handkerchief before dropping it in front of his face, the embroidered 'A. P' catching his eye on the blood-soaked cloth.

"I'll be the head of the League that you never deserved to be, the head that people fail to see that I can be."

You storm away from the scene, footsteps light before you turn around. "Goodbye, Damian." you say softly, before you melt into the shadows and he can no longer see you. The logical part of his brain yells at him to slow his breathing to slow the loss of blood and your poison. It screams at him, knowing he should have never gotten caught off guard in the first place. Yet as you walk away, his brain can only conjure the image of the little girl he used to share a room with, who got scared of the dark at night. The same girl who'd steal the things he hated off his plate at mealtime, so he didn't have to eat them.

Even as he slipped into unconsciousness, the sound of alarmed yelling far away ringing in his ears, all he could think about was the young girl he left behind one too many years ago. The young girl who had grown into Thalia faster than he had grown into Bruce.

208 notes · View notes

seancekitsch · 11 months ago

Text

HOT TO GO: an Adrian Chase x Reader x Rick Flag fic

Rick knows he shouldn't shit where he eats. Rick knows Waller would demote him in a second if she knew he was letting you and your de facto guard dog have special privileges on this mission. Rick knows he shouldn't take you up on your offer to play a game.

Warnings: threesome smut, drinking, smoking, slight knife kink, rick is a good man, reader and adrian are nuts, villain!reader, non canon compliant i like to play god and make people kiss, this is filthy, dirty talk, task force x neck bomb jokes, slight daddy kink, spitting, choking, reader is a little mean, its not poly but its certainly something

You know exactly what the file in ARGUS says about you. A boring little dossier about the full extents of your powers, your record, all of your known aliases (even the embarrassing ones), your allies, and even the common ways you’ve tried to escape capture. Nothing in the little folder says anything about your observation skills.

Nothing about how easily you pick up on phone conversations, how easily you commit to memory a glance of words on a screen over someone’s shoulder. Nothing about how you take in the tiny details, changes in expression or exactly how many things you can use in a room to kill someone in increasingly resourceful and creative ways.

Thats how you figured out Rick Flag has a type; a type that you fit into well. You didn’t mean to overhear his phone call with Waller, but you would be using it to your advantage.

You know about June Moone, about your dear friend Harley, and now his blue eyes settling on you as you try to get in and get out of this mission without fucking about too much. He likes his girls a little messed up. You figure trying to unseat Green Arrow as mayor through completely legal means and then forcibly reforming the prison system does it for him. It helps for you that he’s attractive; that means you don’t have to just use him, you can enjoy him too. Who knows, you might even get to know him enough to admire him as much as you admire the man who named himself your personal protector.

Adrian Chase had apparently put himself into prison in order to talk to you, inspired by your idea of justice and progress or something. He offered protection and you’re not one to turn down a free advantage. You didn’t exactly expect to like him though, knowing the reputation he has and the awkward way he approached you at first. But Adrian was quick to win you over, and you'd spent countless nights talking to each other through the bars of your cells. You even one night tried to "go on a date" in the mess hall. His humor turns you on though, his protection lets you run your mouth without consequences. He's killed for you before, and you damn well know he'll do it again. Waller even seems to know you're a package deal, seeing as she let the two of you be on this mission together. You don’t say it, but you hope this mission gives both of you enough time off your sentences to get out around the same time. You’d love to hang out with him free, even if you refuse to say it. Belle Reve doesn’t exactly allow conjugal visits, though.

You watch your peripherals, Adrian on one side sipping his Corona and keeping the men of Task Force X away from you, Rick on the other side with his eyes tracing your curves as you sway to the music. Adrian to the naked eye looks like he’s not paying attention to you, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. He sways awkwardly and scans the crowd, one eye always on you and his fingers every so often brushing against your leg. His way of checking in. Rick is more stiff, Rick is more obvious about watching you. You notice his fist clench when you brush your knuckles against Adrian’s arms. You notice how tight he holds his beer. You notice the fit of his pants.

You catch on to the fact that Rick knows what Adrian is to you, because he only decides to make his move towards you when Adrian moves away to make two more drinks for you.

You nod to the bar stool next to you, eyes not leaving the small crowd. Funny, you'd heard these missions are some kind of Suicide Squad, but here you were with the crew of sixteen still hanging on strong.

“Great party, thanks for hosting,” you say, your voice dripping with sarcasm, although maybe you shouldn’t be too harsh on the guy. He’s not the guy that put a bomb in your neck.

“Sure,” he laughs, low and under his breath, and he clinks his beer bottle against your empty glass.

“Can I ask you something?” Rick slides up next to you at the bar, looking past you instead of at you. It’s clear he’s trying to sus out Vig, who is dancing back towards you with his two signature concoctions. You roll your eyes at the Colonel, but lean in anyway, pushing your chest closer.

“I don’t know why I’d talk to you, unless thats an order,” you snark at him, and maybe thats unfair, but it’s part of the game.

“It’s not… don’t do that,”Rick dismisses your wide smile, the game of cat and mouse begun. You know exactly what he’s about to ask, but you have to make him work for it.

“Why him?” he asks, eyes darting from you to the man behind you briefly. You smirk, of course he asks that. Probing, looking to see if he has a chance; thinking he’s being slick about it. Adrian turns back towards you as if summoned, his weird ability to just know making him come back as if the leash around his neck were tightened. He has another drink for you, pink and fizzy.

You roll your eyes and grab the drink Adrian made for you from his hand, lifting it to your lips.

“Well, it was either him or Animal-Vegetable-Mineral Man,” you joke, voice deadpan as you punctuate your statement with a swig from the glass. You grimace. It’s almost all rum. Adrian is handsome but, my god, is he bad at ratios.

“Yeah…” Adrian joins the conversation eagerly, ready to agree with whatever you say before actually processing it. His eyes widen behind his thick glasses as he turns to fully look at you. He finally figured out what you were implying, and a smile slowly forms on your lips hidden by the rim of the glass.

“Wait really? But he’s got that, like, tree hand!”

You snort with laughter, and Rick cautiously laughs too. Like he’s in on the joke, you think.

“It would be like that scene in Evil Dead, but consensual,” Adrian continues, his voice rising just like his concern. You roll your eyes at him, already expecting this reaction. Adrian talks big game about being unshakeable but you find it so easy to rile him up.

“Calm down, Spaghetti Squash. You’re much sweeter than he is,” you pat Adrian’s cheek and he beams at you, wide mouthed and toothy and tipsy. You drag your hand slowly down his face, tracing his jaw before you let your hand fall back into your lap.

“And Handsomer?” he fishes for the compliment, and you playfully frown at him.

“You always ask questions you know the answer to,” you tease, and Adrian’s smile never fades.

Rick must be feeling pretty voyeuristic right now, you think, watching two people who just plainly adore each other flirt and touch in front of him; but Rick also doesn’t flinch away from this, you notice. Maybe he likes watching.

“He makes me laugh,” you answer your commanding officer, turning back to him finally.

“Is that a Who Framed Roger Rabbit quote?” He asks, brows furrowed, but a smirk on his face. Okay, play ball, Colonel Flag.

“See, Adrian? I told you Goody Two Shoes was a man of taste,” you glance up at Adrian again before focusing your attention back on Rick Flag. Zero in, Aim, Kill.

“Is that how you see me?” he asks, a challenge.

You tilt your head, a non-answer. Yes, kind of. He himself is good. Maybe too good. Thats probably why he does this silly little Icarus dance and gets too close to people who can and will burn him when they kiss. You glance down at his drink, then back at him and the light glistening of the residue of beer on his bottom lip, the way it shimmers in the light.

Rick is handsome in a way Adrian isn’t. While Adrian is THE choice when it comes to general compatibility and attraction and survival, Rick is A choice. He’s serious, kind, and genuinely tries to see the good in everyone, even if there isn’t any to be found. He’s a gamble, mostly because he’s more willing to gamble. He would put his faith in you and hope you would be by his side even without a bomb in your neck. He’s built like Magic Mike.

“Let Adrian make your next drink,” You tell him, lying, “He’s a master mixologist.”

Rick’s eyes move from you to your protector, whose gloved hand is now possessively on the back of your neck, right where the bomb was placed.

“And why should I do that?” he counters. Adrian tenses.

“Because maybe,” you grab Adrian’s hand and clasp it within yours, “We’ll let you keep drinking with us. You have my vote, you need to earn his.”

Rick laughs, and slumps back from you; his eyebrow twitches in curiosity. Hook, line, sinker. You squeeze Adrian’s hand.

“And how would I do that?” Rick asks.

You laugh as you take his free hand, leading both him and Adrian to another room.

Rick doesn’t understand this game.

All he knows is that he seems to lose every card he pulls, and at least half of the cards you pull. He went to college enough to know this is some deranged version of King’s Cup, but he doesn’t remember a rule that lets Adrian lick rum off of your chest or a rule that means you have to pop off a round when you pull the King.

After his third seemingly bad card, he realized you were lying about the Vigilante’s mixing abilities. He’s a heavy pour with no eye for ratios, not unlike his heavy handed and uneven idea of justice. Rick figures thats why you and that maniac fit well, both twisted and curious and reckless in the same ways. It’s attractive in you though, as much as it is off-putting about Adrian.

Ricks eyes follow Adrian’s tongue though, wet and flat and lavishing the liquor between your breasts, watching how he leaves goosebumps on your skin in his wake. He watches as Adrian shamelessly dips his face into the opening of your vest, realizing that he would push the younger man out of the way for his own turn if you gave him permission. Rick knows he shouldn't shit where he eats. Rick knows Waller would demote him in a second if she knew he was letting you and your de facto guard dog have special privileges on this mission. Rick knows he shouldn't have taken you up on your offer to play any game, let alone one involving alcohol.

You seem to whisper something to Adrian, his rum soaked chin between your nimble fingers and he moves away to take his seat again.

“My turn,” you smirk as you pull the next card from the deck, flipping it to show Rick instead of yourself.

“Jack of Spades,” he tells you. Your eyes dart to Adrian before you smile at him. That can’t be good.

“Never have I ever,” Adrian clarifies. Rick squints in confusion.

“I thought Jacks were categories,” he says, challenging the younger man.

“Well now they’re not,” you chime in, something sweetly venomous in your tone, daring him to keep pressing the issue. Rick is a man that knows when to back down.

He sighs as he puts up his hand, three fingers ready to go. You and Adrian both put up a hand as well, and you start as the card puller.

“Never have I ever… fucked Harley Quinn,” you stare him down as you wiggle your fingers, a cheap shot at him. Rick will remember that.

It’s his turn.

“Never have I ever… been arrested,” Rick admits, and you narrow your eyes at him as you and Adrian both put down a finger.

There’s a bit of pride in Rick’s posture as he settles in, all of you now on equal footing.

“Never have I ever,” Adrian starts, then pauses, biting his tongue between his straight teeth, “Worked for a government that lies.”

It’s clear that was supposed to be a dig at Rick, competition between the two.

“Ade, baby, you’re doing that right now,” you whisper to him in a soothing voice, husky but gentle. His shoulders immediately drop in disappointment.

“So you drink,” you tell him, nudging his hand holding the glass with your knuckle. He drinks, and puts another finger down, his admittance to defeat this round.

“Okay, okay,” you draw the attention back to yourself, despite your eyes watching the way Adrian’s adams apple bobs as he swallows.

“Never have I ever gotten a promotion.”

Again, Rick is the only one to put down a finger. Now he and Adrian have one finger up, and you still have your two. They’re on the same level, something they both have to be painfully aware of as you eye them up like you’ll catch and cook them.

“Never have I ever gone to prom,” Rick offers quickly, shutting up any giggle that might be on your lips as you put a finger down, now tied with the men.

“You poor things,” you muse, but Rick can tell you don’t mean it. There’s sarcasm on your tone that makes him think maybe the movie Carrie wasn’t too far off.

“Never have I ever been an only child,” Adrian says, quickly, like hes trying to throw the whole game away. There’s something about how he shifts in his seat that looks like he’s starting to get antsy of it.

Only you put your finger down. You’re out first, a fact that surprises you as much as it probably surprises the others as well.

“Shit,” you swear under your breath, and take a quick swig of your drink.

“What do you want me to do?” you ask, refusing to look at either of them, your scowl settling into your features. Right, the loser has to do something for the winners.

Your file comes to mind for Rick, and your reactions to the failed mayoral race.

Adrian wordlessly pulls you onto his lap, and your smile returns, if only briefly.

“Dunno about Rick, but I want you right here,” Adrian tells you, resting his head on your shoulder.

“Well, we can keep playing if you want,” Rick offers, “Y’know, we can all lose… learn a little bit more about each other.”

Anything so he doesn’t have to see that pout again.

Fuck, Waller’s gonna skin him.

You shrug, and he figures thats all he’s gonna get.

“Never have I ever had a secret identity,” Rick offers, and Adrian happily puts his finger down. He’s out too.

“Never have I ever,” you glance between the two men, and for the first time you look like you didn’t have one loaded in the barrel, “Had… a threesome.”

Rick’s eyebrows shoot up as he too puts a finger down, finally out as well.

“No way, who?” Adrian asks, and this is maybe the first time Adrian has addressed him personally.

“A good man doesn’t kiss and tell,” Rick replies.

“Boring,” Adrian says.

And then he pulls a card, as if the air in the room had not just crackled with tension.

Queen.

“So its questions?” Rick asks, hoping the rules haven’t changed again.

“Do you finally get it?” you reply, jumping right back into the game.

“Why did it take you so long?” asks Adrian.

“How was I supposed to know?”

“Aren’t you military trained?”

“Didn’t you say you knew we were crazy like an hour ago?”

“Hasn’t… ugh… shit,” Rick runs out of steam the questions firing too quickly.

“Take your shirt off,” you don’t miss a beat, shrugging, “because you lost.”

If you had thought earlier that tonight would have gone as well this, you would have really thought you lost your mind. Adrian twitches, thrusting a little harder into you, an attempt at a poker face forced onto his face. Rick’s eyes trained on you, maybe the same way he trains his eye on a target.

Rick leans back in his chair, in only his boxers, sweat coating his chest as he does nothing to hide the fact that he’s hard watching this display.

Adrian lazily rolls his hips into you, your jacket partially obscuring what’s happening, but you know Rick isn’t stupid. He knows Adrian is fucking you, knows your skirt is pushed up in just the right way and your underwear pushed to the side.

Adrian was barely subtle when he did it, rearranging you on his lap after the latest round of mini games had him losing his own gear and pants. You'd managed to be winning, your jacket and your skirt still on, your boots and vest tossed somewhere behind the chairs. He got handsy, big and warm and calloused against your skin. They traveled under your jacket, down your body, down your skirt. He hitched up. his knee, pushing you further back onto his lap, using his adjusting as an excuse to maneuver himself out of his boxers and under your skirt. You know you faltered, eyes fluttering as his length pushed against you, a shuddering gasp as you felt his hand pull your underwear to the side.

Adrian, however, acted nonchalant. He joked and took swigs of his drink and talked with you and Rick as if he wasn't playing you like a fiddle, as if he was not positioning you to sit pretty on his cock.

This is actually only the second time you’ve fucked Adrian. You don’t count hand stuff between the bars or weird touching in the mess hall when you have time out of your cell. You know his cock, but you’re still surprised at how amazing it feels when he fills you, sat on his lap and filled to the brim with him, the only movement his little thrusts pushing even deeper than you thought possible.

Rick watches like a hawk, and you wink at him as he pulls another card.

“Eight,” He reveals.

“Pick a date,” You explain.

He points at you, and you lean over to grab your drink. The change in angle makes you moan, and you do so shamelessly.

“Ade, want me to grab one for you while I’m down here?” you ask, knowing another moan will escape you when you lean back again.

“Fuckin… Yeah,” Adrian gasps. He’s so cute.

You grab a card and pull yourself back up, attempting to bite back this moan. You fail as you lock eyes with Rick, something animalistic in his gaze. You shiver. Fuck. You want him too. You tear your eyes away from him to look at the playing card.

“Ten,” you tell him.

“Truth or dare! Alright!” Adrian is enthusiastic.

“Okay, babe, truth or dare?” He asks you.

“Truth,” you respond, deciding to play it safe at first.

“Boring!” he exclaims, “ But, are you loving this right now?”

You nod, laughing as you lean into him. Again, Rick is a voyeur.

“Rick,” you address him, still in Adrian world, still curled into him.

“Yeah?”

“You jealous?” You ask.

He’s silent for a moment, long enough for you to turn and look at him again, this time with hunger in your eyes.

“Yeah, kinda.”

You laugh, a little too dark to be a giggle, a little too light to have malicious intent.

“Truth or dare, Adrian?” Rick asks, which surprises you.

“Truth,” he declares, and punctuates it by rolling his hips up into you again, dragging himself against you, and you bite your lip. A show.

“Do you consider me a challenge?” he asks. Oh, it’s a dick measuring contest, you realize.

He contemplates it, and then moves his hand to your face, his thumb on your lip. You open your mouth, taking the digit between your lips, sucking.

“I don’t know how I could even think of you as a challenge. I mean…” He trails off, his index finger tapping your cheek.

“Fair enough,” Rick concedes.

“Truth or dare?” Adrian responds, to Rick, which surprises you. You look between the two men, stilling any motion, like the freeze frame before a fight.

“Dare,” Rick all but snarls, clearly calling Adrian’s challenge. It's interesting, being fought over like this. People have fought over your resources, your power, your alliance, but never yourself. It's a bit of an ego trip, one that strokes you better than any cock could.

“I dare you to try and show her a better time than I could,” Adrian says, and then looks to you.

His hips still as his eyes meet yours, a silent as if this is okay? You want this? And maybe, will you still pick me after all of this? His eyes are bright behind his glasses, not shying away from the fact that he’s watching you, his thumb still between your kiss swollen lips. You lead the charge, you let Adrian follow. Strangely loyal, awfully endearing. How is it that you spent your entire life in the Pacific Northwest without passing him earlier?

You nod, giving him the okay, and take his hand into yours, pulling his thumb from your lips. You swivel your hips, quietly moaning as you resettle yourself in his lap, and let him press a possessive kiss on your neck.

“You sure?” you whisper to him, and he shrugs nonchalantly. Adrian doesn't really seem like the kind of guy that would be okay with this, but if he says so, you cannot deny it.

Wordlessly, you motion for Rick to approach, and he crosses the room slowly. He gives you a show, his underwear leaving little to the imagination, the light layer of sweat making his muscles shine in the light. Rick smirks at you, easygoing despite how you can see his hand twitching. Is he sure he’s had a threesome before?

You lick your lips as he stops in front of you, and Adrian grabs for your jacket. You stare up at Rick expectantly as Adrian pulls the leather down your arms, baring your chest to the Colonel. His eyes travel down your body shamelessly, committing your body to memory, painting your portrait in his mind.

“So how should we…?” he trails off, not sure how to proceed. Adrian makes a decision for him, though, and puts his hands firmly on your hips. You’re not going anywhere, especially as he fucks up into you, the chair below him creaking. He snaps his hips to claim his place and also yours. You’re not going to fucking move. You gasp, hand reaching back to steady yourself against his firm chest, fingers flexing against his muscles. This doesn't deter Rick, however, who takes another step towards you, stopping just in front of your knees.

“Well?” you ask, expectantly, and his smirk turns into a smile as he huffs out a small laugh. Rick unceremoniously yanks down his boxers, already leaving little to the imagination but still you cannot hide the shock in your eyes when you finally see his cock.

Rick’s cock is long, handsome as he is, and a delicious shade of pink. You reach out, fingers curling around the base of his cock as you smile up at him. If Rick didn't know better, he’d think you were an angel. Good thing he knows better.

You pump his cock at the same rythm Adrian fucks you, his thrusts and your fist moving in tandem. You’re mesmerized by the way Rick’s brows scrunch up, as if you've unlocked his kryptonite, attention being the thing to break through his attempted cool exterior. Its beautiful. He’s beautiful.

You laugh, lips breaking into a smile, and you bend forward, Adrians grip on your hips changing his angle inside you shifting. He groans behind you appreciatively, and one of his hands gives your ass a slap. Rick flexes, and rolls his shoulders back.

“Do you like that?” you ask him, your voice a seductive whisper. You don't slow your rhythm, you don't look away; Adrian doesnt slow his rhythm, Rick doesnt look away.

“I like you,” Rick responds, just as flirty. You laugh, breathy and light, never breaking eye contact with your commanding officer. You roll your hips, feeling Adrian’s hands tightening on you.

“Of course you do,” you say with a roll of your eyes, finally breaking the contact. Your hand moves slowly, concentrating on running your thumb up and down the vein on the underside of his cock.

“Want some more?” he asks, stepping between yours and Adrian’s legs, his hand coming up to cup your jaw.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you hear from behind you, Adrian cursing as his hands loosen their grip on your hips.

You sigh, you should have known this would happen. Adrian doesnt seem like the sharing type, even if Rick is. You release your grip on Rick’s cock, leaning away until you back touches Adrian’s chest. You look up at him, and he doesn't look at you.

“Adrian?” you coo, voice venomously sweet.

He grunts.

“Adrian?” you call to him again, voice like a song as you reach up and run a finger along his jawline.

“What?” he practically spits the word.

“Honey, where is your cock right now?” you ask him gently as if you don’t both know, continuing to run your finger along his jawline, a comforting gesture.

Finally, Adrian leans into your touch, and his arms wrap around your waist. One hand dips down, and he teases your clit. You gasp, moan turning into a giggle.

“In this sweet pussy,” he answers.

“Uh huh, so let Rick play a little. His presence here is an unethical power imbalance and I think he knows that. He’s gonna play nice with me,” you tell him, scrunching your nose at him cutely. You turn your attention back to Rick, raising an eyebrow to silently ask him if he agrees. He smiles slowly, and you reach out for him again.

Rick guides your hand back to his cock, letting you grasp him once more.

Your teamwork resumes: Adrian You Rick, Adrian You Rick. Adrian setting the speed, the pace, leaning back in the chair for leverage to fuck up into you. Grunt, moan, gasp. Groan, gasp, moan. For the first time since the game started, you can actually hear the music floating through the air from the little radio. Some crooner sets the background for this devil’s threesome unfolding.

You speed up your movements, breaking the rhythm, and Rick inhales sharply between his teeth, a loud and discordant noise that seems to break the spell. Adrian’s hands seize your hips roughly again, seeking to possess you.

Fuck.

“Listen, Man,” Rick addresses Adrian awkwardly, his jaw twitching as you speed up your movements even more, your wrist working him over.

“What, man?” Adrian asks, petulant and sarcastic. You didn't know he knew how to do that. He’s full of surprises, you think.

“Don't you think I know what's happening here?”

Okay, that makes you pause. Maybe Rick is more perceptive than you originally thought.

“Your girl here is trying to honey pot me,” he explains, his hand reaching down to adjust your grasp on him, tighter, “Am I right?”

You nod up at him, nervous for once.

“She figures if she shows me a good time I’ll pull some strings to give you time enough off your sentences so you can be released together,” he explains, and Adrian’s grip on you softens, only to have his rough hand run up and down your side.

“Are you gonna?” Adrian asks, his desire to be out with you overtaking his desire to comment on an unethical exchange of sexual favors.

Rick only shrugs.

“Why not?”

That seems to be the only answer both men need, and you breathe a sigh of relief you didn't know you were holding.

Adrian’s hand dips forward again to find your clit, and your next breath is a shuddering gasp.

“You wanna be a honey pot?” he asks you, his pressure on your clit increasing, almost painfully. You nod, a needy whine escaping your lips.

“Then show Colonel Flag how sweet you are,” he commands you, his lips now against the shell of your ear. He speeds up his fingers, panting into your ear as he shallowly thrusts into you, your bodies flush. You feel helpless, a moaning mess losing yourself to your own pleasure, almost embarrassingly so. Your head rolls back onto Adrian’s shoulder, and your over kissed lips part into a dazed smile. You meet Rick’s eyes as Adrian’s movements start to make your body jolt and shake. Your orgasm, rapidly approaching, evident to everyone.

“C’mon baby,” Adrian encourages you, his fingers digging into your thigh, holding you open as he continues his onslaught, pleasure and pain now one in the same, white heat beginning to seep into the corners of your vision.

Until the dam breaks. Adrian holds you in place, only slowing down to give you slight mercy. Rick watches intensely, his eyes never leaving your face, even as your eyes roll back and your mouth opens in a silent scream, your body wracked with tremors as your orgasm hits you like a flooding storm. Adrian holds you tightly through it all, bringing you back to earth slowly. Your chest heaves, and your eyes meet Rick’s again.

Sweet enough? You silently ask him, and he smiles, understanding fully. Adrian seems to understand too, as he pulls you up off his lap, hissing at the air hitting his cock, cold compared to the heat of your cunt.

You stand unsteadily, almost dizzy as you use your legs for the first time in over an hour. Rick reaches out for you, pulling you into his arms as you steady yourself, his warmth radiating over you.

“Wanna lay down?” he asks, as if he already knows what you want. Yes, yes of course you do, you nod your head and he leads you over to the little table, pushing all of the discarded deck onto the floor as he gently lays you down. Adrian gets up and joins Rick, standing on the opposite end of the table. You lay back, face to face with Adrian as your spine flattens out against the formica. He smiles at you sweetly, and you return it, before he winks. As if you read his mind, you open your mouth for him, and he leans down and spits between your lips. You smile up at him, eyes full of nothing but adoration.

“You want my mouth?” you ask him, and he shakes his head no. Rick the voyeur switches places with him, rounding the table until he’s standing next to your head.

“Stay still,” Rick warns you, his hands gently tilting your head back to lean off the edge of the table.

“Yes, Daddy,” you obey.

“Don’t,” Rick pauses, grimaces, blushes red as a tomato, “Don’t say that.”

You immediately tilt your head back up, looking for Adrian with wild amusement painted on your features.

“Did you hear that?” you giggle, snapping your fingers at Adrian from his spot between your legs. He laughs along with you, pointing at Rick, who rolls his eyes.

“Colonel’s got a Daddy kink!” you laugh, only stopped when Rick pulls your back down, bringing your attention back on him to shut you up.

“You want a taste?” he asks, grasping his cock by the base, and stepping closer to your bruised lips.

You nod, eagerly. The tip of his cock touches your lips, and you gladly part them to let Rick push his cock between them. You push your tongue out to taste him, salty and hot against you, your tongue massaging him as you take him fully into your mouth. Fuck, he feels good in your mouth, just as good as you thought he would. He pushes slowly, whether hes testing the waters or afraid to hurt you, you arent sure. But you want more, no, need it even. He takes a few more shallow thrusts, slow and even and safe.

We can’t have that, now can we?

You grab his hips, thumbs dipping right against his v-line as you pull him closer to you, taking him as deep as you can. Rick gasps, then groans in surprise, his voice strained as he gets used to the sensation of his cock down your throat.

Adrian, not one to be outdone, only watches the show for a moment before focusing his attention back to your cunt. Which, in his opinion, is only too clothed.

Adrian pushes your skirt up around your waist, bunching the fabric up ungracefully. His fingers rake down the front of your underwear, wet and twisted and useless now that Adrian had already made a previous mess of them. Impatient to a fault, repositioning you to pull them off smoothly would take too long.

Your focus is pulled from the heat of Rick’s cock by cool steel against your hip, and without pulling yourself off of Rick you hum, trying to get attention as you ask what the fuck is going on. Rick reaches down to rub his thumb along your chin in comfort.

“Adrian’s got a knife,” Rick explains, and as you feel the elastic of your underwear break, you relax once more. You had told Adrian one night in your cell that you wanted him to do that to you once he got his knives back. He’s a good listener.

You swivel your tongue along Rick’s cock, the hot velvet soft skin and salty sweat. You hollow out your cheeks, pride blooming in your chest as the commanding officer groans like a much more desperate man.

Adrian’s cock once again presses against your entrance, a key into a lock, and he sinks into you slowly, a loud and blissful moan spilling from his lips. You can only imagine the smile on his face. The same smooth drag, the fullness of him returns to you, and you moan around Rick’s shaft. You feel the shiver up his spine from here. He likes that, you notice, and file it away in your mind to use against him.

Adrian is not slow and gentle for long, though, quickly picking up speed now that he has the freedom to have you spead out below him like this.

His hips slamming into you shakes the table, rocking your mouth farther onto Rick’s cock. You gag, sharply inhaling through your nose to try to keep control. You reach out to him, your fingers wrapping around his forearms to stabalize you, so that maybe next time Adrian decides to be rough it wont end with Rick bruising your vocal cords. Rick moves his hands, gripping the edge of the table to keep you in place. Adrian hammers into you, fucking you onto Rick, once again a tandem rhythm between the three of you.

“Jesus, Colonel, is that your dick?” you hear Adrian ask as he presses your thighs farther apart.

“Yep,” You hear Rick confirm, his hand coming off the edge of table to brush his fingertips across your neck, “Pretty little throat your girl’s got.”

“Don’t I know it?” Adrian asks, and that effectively ends their conversation again. You’re glad

theyre starting to get along. You feel Adrian’s hands running up and down your thighs, massaging his thumbs into the muscles, but you can only be so pliant beneath him when tension builds and pools in your stomach, threatening to bring you over the edge again.

You try to focus on one or the other. Try to focus on keeping your cheeks hollow and your tongue moving for Rick. Try to focus on not coming again on Adrian’s cock while he teases and manipulates your body. You feel like you're failing though, and falling all the same, your muscles feel weak against both of them, hard and strong, your body filled with white-hot heat like molten lava.

Adrian breaks your thoughts by yanking both of your legs together, your knees knocking together roughly. Heat turning supernova, you moan loud around Rick’s cock, and he himself moans in response.

“That gonna get you to come for me again?” Adrian asks, laughter in his voice as he places both of your ankles on one shoulder, hugging your legs to his chest. The angle is… divine. Your eyes screw shut tightly, stars bursting behind your eyelids. He’s such a little shit.

You hum affirmatively again around Rick’s cock, and his hips stutter against your face, knocking into your chin.

“Fuck, Doll, you gotta stop doing that,” he sighs, but you can barely hear him. No, you’re focusing to holding onto your sanity. Everything feels so so so much, everything is Adrian and Rick, Adrian and Rick, and you melting between them. Fuckfuckfuckfuck.

A strangled cry fights its way from your mouth, and a cord snaps within you. You shudder, and Adrian leans down to pin you down even further, slowing down this time to give you a little mercy. He is sweet. He works you through your orgasm slowly, gently pulling it from you, gently letting you back down to earth, gently letting the pleasure crash over you in waves. He thrusts slowly, dragging himself from you before every slow thrust in, taking you apart and putting you back together. You float back down into yourself slowly, held by both of them. Adrian pressed against you and Rick now running his fingers through your hair.

Rick pulls out slowly, his hand wrapped around the base of his cock, and finally you can swallow properly, your sore jaw slack and tired. Adrian presses a kiss to the back of your knee, pulling out as well. You groan at the loss of him, at the heat leaving your body. Then again, at the feeling of goosebumps covering your skin. He lets your legs down gently, your heels coming to rest on the edge of the table as he holds you lazily.

Rick leans down, eyes dark and lustful, handsome and fully focused on you. He is dangerous.

“Can I have that honey pot, gorgeous?” Rick asks you, face close enough to kiss. You lean up, craning your neck to do just that. He tastes like rum and vanilla, sickeningly sweet. Your hand reaches up to pull him even closer, your nails raking through his soft hair. Rick’s hand quickly finds your chest, his thumb brushing over your nipple. What a tease, you think.

He parts his lips from you slowly, eyes staying closed as if savoring the moment to commit to memory.

“You can have whatever you want,” you whisper, and Rick seems to preen at that. He stands tall again and moves to take Adrian’s place. Adrian doesn't budge though.

“You gonna…?” Rick trails off, holding out his hand to gesture Adrian to the side. Adrian still doesn't budge, his feet planted to the floor. You roll your eyes, bored of the competition. Men.

“I think I’m good here,” Adrian shrugs, his fingers idly running up and down the side of your leg.

“Don’t act like she’s not the one that holds your leash, Vig,” Rick shoots back, pointing out a truth, “Everyone sees how you protect her. She's a big girl.”

Adrian visibly deflates, his shoulders drooping. If you didn’t know better, you would think Rick’s gaze is softening in guilt. But you do know better.

“Don’t worry, babe, you’re the only one that gets to come inside,” you stage whisper to him, looking at Rick the whole time. He gets it and nods instantly in reassurance.

“Better be,” Adrian pouts, “And maybe he should only get you from behind.”

It’s a little petty on Adrian’s part, but you have a bond. The Colonel is an interloper at the end of the night, and Adrian’s comfort is important.

“I can work with that,” Rick pipes up, slapping a reassuring hand on the younger man’s shoulder, which surprisingly is not shrugged off. Adrian even looks a little surprised at the turn of events, as if he’s used to others making him put up more of a fight to get what he wants.

You turn yourself over, ignoring the ache in your core, dropping onto your feet off the edge of the table to bend over. The cool air hits you, and finally you realize just how wet you are. Fuck.

Adrian is reluctant as he moves in front of you, but he seems thankful of the shitty table, and the ability to kiss you before he grabs your head to lower it on his shaft. He kisses you softly, holding both sides of your face in his big hands. You press your lips to his eagerly, a salve to whatever hurt his ego feels in this whole situation. You know you’ll hear an earful when you go to sleep next to him later, but you don’t mind. Not when he looks like that.

You’re broken from your thoughts by the feeling of another pair of rough hands; this time finding purchase on your hips. Adrian breaks the kiss somewhat reluctantly, licking the seam of your lips before he pulls away.

You smile up at him again, and he grabs his shaft, pumping from the base to the tip twice. Like a fucking pornstar.

“Open up?” he asks, and you oblige, dramatically parting your lips and sticking your tongue out for show. His nose scrunches, his glasses fogging slightly as he laughs through his nose, and he inches closer to you, teasing you with the tip just out of reach. You pout, and then smile as he gives in, resting the fat head of his cock against your tongue.

Rick’s cock brushes against your entrance, only for a moment, and then he pushes his entire length into you with one thrust, filling you entirely.

You moan, loud and wanton, pushed further onto Adrian’s shaft as well. Both of them fill you, completely.

Rick lingers, savoring the feeling of being fully inside you, holding your hips and your bodies flush together. He pulls himself out again slowly, almost completely, dragging against you, friction that makes you whine, open mouthed and loud around Adrian’s shaft, and his grip on your head only becomes tighter. Rick takes the opportunity to land a hard smack against your ass, hard enough to bruise. Hard enough to make his mark on you the way that Adrian has, hard enough to lay claim to you.

He then begins thrusting in earnest; long, savoring strokes you're sure he will remember later, fucking his fist in the shower.

The edge of the table digs into the flesh of your thighs, you can imagine the indents they'll leave, a sweet reminder as you're sure it'll be sore to walk tomorrow. He presses into you deep, each thrust harder than the last, each thrust earning him a moan.

You push back against him, arching your back into each of his movements. Adrian moves differently, barely thrusting his hips, small movements while he keeps himself deep in your mouth, his tip kissing the back of your throat with every little push of his hips.

The room fills with moans, all three of you together harmoniously, hitting your stride.

“Fucking amazing,” Rick sighs, beginning to speed up his thrusts, his hip bones bumping against your ass.

“Right?” Adrian agrees, his thumb swiping against your cheek. Wet, like the rest of you.

“You’re a lucky man, Vigilante.”

And without warning Rick changes his angle, hips now connecting with the bottom of your ass, and you nearly scream. This new angle… this is… excruciating pleasure.

He reaches a part of you that your hadn't already known, the tip of his cock brushing against a spot that makes your vision blur. He hits it over and over, your eyes rolling back into your head as your orgasm rushes almost embarrassingly.

You feel yourself tightening around him, feel all of your muscles seizing. You try as hard as you can to keep your jaw where it is for Adrian despite the fact that Rick has the rest of your body curling in on itself.

He speeds up, continuing to hit that spot, hit that place in you. Your toes curl, and you lose your composure quickly, now moaning every time he fills you to the hilt.

You moan on Adrian’s cock, your throat vibrating around his cock, and at some point he just stops thrusting, enjoying the feeling of you on him in your current state too much.

Rick keeps thrusting, your back arching to the point where your body almost comes off the table, your hips rising almost uncomfortably to meet the angle he has set to make you come beneath him, and expertly so. You're barrelling towards that high, bracing yourself to let yourself go, to go limp around Rick Flag, to show him…

“Fuck,” Rick curses, pulling out harshly. He taps the tip of his cock against your ass a few times, and then sighs deeply.

“You are something else,” he laughs, his free hand running down your hip. Adrian takes this as his cue, and pulls himself out of your mouth too. Unlike with Rick, you whine at the loss of Adrian. You look up at him through your lashes, his smile cocky and excited.

“You wanna finish the job?” you ask your protector, and he nods eagerly, the smile never slipping.

You turn your attention back to the older man.

“It’s okay, Colonel,” you coo, your voice once again sweet with that venom, taunting, “You can have my mouth again.”

Rick isn’t going to think twice about it, and he switches places with Adrian to stand in front of you again, gathering your hair in his fist. You lock eyes with him as your tongue darts out of your mouth, a gentle lick to the head of his cock. He shudders, clearly ready. Well, you’re not one to waste time. You pull him in closer by the hips, taking his length back into your mouth.

He groans appreciatively when the back of your throat meets the tip of his cock again, kissing it. Quick, shallow thrusts this time, less about exploring you and more about an eagerness to meet his end, and to watch you meet your end once again. He holds your head still, fucking your mouth, but that doesn’t mean you don’t have cards to deal as well.

You swivel your tongue along the vein on the underside of his shaft, mapping it like hills and valleys.

He’s quick, head thrown back in pleasure and chest heaving. Adrian is not one to be outdone though, and enters you equally as quickly, no show or frills or gentleness this time. He enters you as a means to an end as well.

Both men thrust into you hungrily, chasing a high only given by you. Adrian reaches down, bending his body over you until his fingers reach your clit again, moving with a pace and desperation to make you scream around Rick’s cock. His arm will probably be as bruised as your thighs will be tomorrow morning, but it’s clear he doesn’t care, hammering into you again.

The tension you felt under Rick comes back almost immediately, your body tensing and curling for Adrian now as he puts himself deep inside you. Rick has to almost work against Adrian, his own thrusts having to fit in the waves and crashes of Adrian’s hips.

Adrian works you over, your body constricting and tensing under Adrian’s generous moans, watches you as you start to lose it.

“That's it babe, show the Colonel how good you are,” Adrian encourages, the pressure of his finger on your clit now almost violent, knowing how ready you are.

“Let go,” Adrian urges, his voice so low and wanting. Instead of you, its Rick that lets go, filling your throat with his release, salty and hot, but easy to swallow. He tastes good, not too much not too little. You swallow him down eagerly, making eye contact the entire time, and you're almost sure he sheds a tear.

It's seconds later that Adrian makes you come again.

You shudder, hard and unsexy under him, and entire loss of control, but you hide none of it from Rick. He knows you, or at least he should. Adrian comes shortly after, his release with a groan, and the two of you sink to the floor as a unit, connected, held together. Adrian keeps you close.

Your head shoots up from Rick’s shoulder as if you’ve been burned, your eyes wide as you turn your face towards the pile of his clothes. The Colonel unravels himself from you and the Vigilante, a pile of limbs doused in sweat and spit and salt. His phone vibrates; the case clattering against his belt buckle, the screen a bright intrusion to the dim lights, reflecting off of the rum bottles like christmas lights. Rick stumbles towards it, pulled by duty. Adrian pulls at you by the handful, fully enveloping you in his embrace. One so new and yet already so comforting. You picked right when you set your sights on him.

Rick bends down to pick up his phone, showing you a great view of that ass of his. You rake your fingernails over Adrian’s bicep, tracing the scar tissue lines across soft freckled skin while you watch what the other man does.

Rick’s screen illuminates a grimace on his face. Your brows furrow in confusion, and then realization.

“Waller?” you ask, voice partially muffled by how Adrian has himself wrapped around you.

“Yup,” Rick confirms, knowing he’s probably a dead man.

You and Adrian burst into laughter.

He’s so fucking dead.

Rick slips on his underwear and leaves the room to take the call.

#adrian chase x reader #rick flag x reader

480 notes · View notes

mylifeisfruk4ever · 1 year ago

Text

"What the fuck?"

Selina felt that those three words were enough to describe her whole relationship with Bruce Wayne. First as Batman, then as Bruce.

She had thought there might be something between them. Luckily it had passed, and a weird friendship had developed between them. Which might make some people turn up their noses since she was a thief and he was a vigilante but Bruce hasn't been so uptight lately and as long as Selina didn't kill and steal only who deserved it, they were fine.

Still, what the heck?

"Oh, Brucie is growing up," Harley said, all too pleased.

She was upright on the bed, while Pamela sat on the other side trimming her nails, seemingly ignoring the ongoing conversation.

Fuck house arrest for both of them. Why had she accepted? Oh yeah, they were friends.

Alsp, Bruce hoped that with her, Pamela and Harley could direct their impulses towards more correct forms of fighting for their principles, without involving innocent people.

So far it wasn't going to be great, but at least Harley had dumped her clown ex, for good this time, so it was a win.

(Probably more thanks to Pamela than her, but details.)

"Let me get this straight…you, mister, I don't look anyone in the face and if you talk to me for more than five minutes I'll start crying, you want….I can't believe I'm about to say it…learn how to seduce a man."

"Exactly," Bruce replied, as he petted one of Selina's cats.

"Just…why?"

"Who cares?" Harley broke in.

"He finally wants to step outside his boundaries! You have my respect!"

"It's not about going outside my boundaries. It's about planetary security."

"Really?" Selina said, half joking.

"Superman is powerful enough to destroy the planet."

This knocked Harley over, and Pamela finally stopped pretending not to pay attention.

Selina didn't know whether to laugh hysterically or slap him on the head, "Do you want to seduce Superman?!"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"To discover his weaknesses and use them against him when his powers drive him insane."

"Wow, talking about trust issues," was Harley's comment.

"I like to be prepared," Bruce said.

"What did the boy scout do to make you fear that he might become world dictator at the slightest provocation?"

The man pouted adorable, and grumbled. Selina still wasn't an expert at translating each other's mumbling but she swore it was something like smiling too much, and I don't trust him, he's got something to hide.

Harley said, "Isn't Superman having an affair with that reporter? Lois Lane?"

"She is General Lane's daughter. A close relationship is not advisable."

"She seems to know him well. Why don't you ask her?"

"She wouldn't answer me, so as not to betray him. Everyone says he's a hero."

"And you obviously don't believe it," Selina suspected.

"No."

"What makes you think he might be interested in men?" Selina asked him.

Harley laughed, "Cupcake, no completely straight man would wear pants that tight."

"Same conclusion I came to."

Oh good. The fate of the world was entrusted to a pair of tight trousers.

"Besides, I've done some research on him, and I might be his type. At least physically. What I lack is the ability to seduce him to lower his defenses and believe me harmless."

"Ability you think we have?" Selina asked, not sure whether to feel offended or not.

"Gotham is very sexist," Bruce said.

"You did your best to manipulate men who thought they knew better."

Pamela smiled, "I'm liking this one."

“I told you Brucie's one of the good ones,” Harley genuinely smiled as she said it.

"And he's a weirdo, like us."

Selina wanted to moan. This is what happens when you make friends with strange vigilantes. She said, "So Superman has a thing for brunettes. Good to know. Have you thought about what to do in case your brilliant plan fails?"

"It won't fail," he said confidently.

"You don't know," she insisted, trying to give him some common sense. A futile undertaking, it was Bruce she was talking to.

"Superman is overconfident. He will fall into the net."

"Definitely not dressed like that honey," Harley commented, taking a long look to Bruce.

"What's wrong with the way I'm dressed?"

"You look like a creepy stalker," Selina said. Army jacket, hat, scarf to cover her face and mascara for her eyes. Bruce was a walking fashion insult. They're definitely going to have to fix his wardrobe, make him wear things that flatter his body and…

Oh god, she was totally on board with that plan, right?

#fanfiction #books #au #quote #superbat #superbattinson #battinson #the batman #gotham #gotham sirens #selina kyle #bruce wayne #harley quinn #pamela isley #the batman 2022 #autistic bruce wayne #batman fanfiction

638 notes · View notes

gh0stly-pages · 23 days ago

Text

Out of Our Minds (Part Three)

Ledger! Joker x Harley Quinn-esque f!reader (18+)

CW: swearing, mentions of violence

Words: 4.1k

Chapter Summary: The third session with the Joker, and as you try and delve into the man he is, you can't help the connection you feel. Seems he might feel it too...

previous part: part 2 | next part: part 4

Notes: Hello everyone! Apologies for the wait, took a bit longer because of Halloween, was having too much fun to write. But here we are! This series is def picking up the pace now and soon we will dive into some real chaos lol. Please enjoy :) (I love inputting bits of Arkham dialogue in these because i can >:) )

_____________________________________________

On your way to work, it seems Gotham is in shambles.

There seems to be some type of announcement going on, by someone from the GPD. You could care less, honestly, especially since you need to get to work before you’re late, but what piques your interest is the crowds of people. There is an obvious rift amongst them. Some of them hold signs displaying the infamous bat symbol, crying out in favor for Batman, it seems, some holding children at their hip who cry for the man they’ve lost. The other half push back against the pro-Batman crowd, yelling things like ‘murderer’ and ‘fraud’. The tension is so thick you can taste it. These people might tear each other apart.

Oh, if only Joker were here to see this. He’d never shut up.

A woman bumps into you, clutching a sign with that bat symbol painted on it, with words beneath it reading ‘come back’. You sneer, and she retreats back to her other Batman groupies. How could anyone get so worked up over a man in a mask? Take the mask off and we’re all messed up inside. Batman had worn the mask of a hero, parading around as Gotham’s salvation, and yet he killed people just like his enemies had. Like Joker had. Except Joker didn’t pretend to be someone he wasn’t.

Mr. Dale may be right about keeping all this from Joker, but you can’t help but feel a twinge of guilt. He’s going to get out eventually and see all this mess. They can’t hide it from him forever. Even if he’s on house arrest for the rest of his damn life, he’s the Joker, and they won’t be able to stop him. They’re just scared. Scared that the Joker may have won.

You walk through the city, broken into chaos, all the way to Arkham.

———————————————

This time when you enter Joker’s little conference room, he lacks his usual straitjacket, and you’re both surprised and relieved that your bosses actually listened to you. His asylum garb has been replaced with the usual Arkham patient outfit, an orange baggy shirt with matching orange pants. Immediately, as ashamed as you are, your eyes go to his arms, which are surprisingly lean and toned, probably from numerous fights. You trace his arms down to his hands, each of which have a separate handcuff linked to a man made circle jutting from the table. You look at every crinkle, every callus, every line. Human hands. Dangerous hands.

“Uh, doll, my eyes are up here, ya know.”

Shit. You look up into his eyes as you take your seat, shifting uncomfortably. “I’m… sorry, I was just-“ You try to search for an excuse, but it’s clear from the teasing look Joker gives you that he’s not looking for one. You flush. “I’m surprised they let you out of the jacket.” I’m surprised your hands are so normal.

“Well, it certainly wasn’t from my good behavior,” he clucks, his tongue hitting the top of his mouth. “Did you ask them to get rid of it?”

You can’t tell if he’s angry or not. “I did.”

He breaks into his signature, manic grin. Not angry. Good. “I knew I liked you, doll.”

Joker doesn’t say ‘thank you’ or ‘I appreciate it’ but somehow, this is better. It’s probably as close as you’ll get to hearing those words from him and it ignites something in you. You feel proud of yourself. Proud that he’s proud of you. Before you can return his smile, you remember ‘hey, wait a fucking second, this is my patient The Joker we’re talking about here’. You settle for a small smile. Be professional. “Mr. J, I wanna start this session off by just saying I think we’re making some good progress-“

“Doctor y/n, you seem to have quite the fascination with my hands,” Joker interrupts, a giggle rising in his throat.

Dammit. Were you looking at his hands again? You didn’t even fucking notice. You’re not trying to. You’re probably just a little shocked. Again, it’s like pulling back the curtain, getting a glimpse at the man behind the act. And there he sits, with such human looking hands. “Excuse me, I’m just…” You search for the words. “I’m not used to seeing you without being all wrapped in a jacket.”

“Well, ah, they’re just hands. Did ya think I’d have talons?”

“Maybe. Or maybe, like, robotic hands. Rocket launchers for hands. Something cooler.” Are you teasing him? Your patient? You might be teasing him, just a little.

At your teasing, his smile shifts sideways into a smirk, eyes thinning. “Cooler? What’s cool is, ah, what these hands have done. They’ve been the cause of the end of so many lives.” He tries to lace his hands together, but the handcuffs keep his arms too far apart, so his fingers touch only slightly. “Now, ah, where were we?”

You stumble to find the words. So much for professionalism. “R-right, sorry. I think we’re making real progress here. Yesterday was a good session, and I’m hoping today will follow suit.” You bring out your clipboard. Click your pen open. “Now, why don’t we pick up where we left off? We were analyzing your crimes-“

“Spectacles.”

“Whatever you wanna call em’. Now those are only one part of the man you call the Joker-“

“That is, ah, my name, doll face.”

You hold your hand up. “Let me finish. We haven’t talked about you. About this person you present as the Joker. And yes,” you say roughly, before he can cut you off again, “I know you say that you and this character you present are one in the same, but nobody is exactly the person they put out. I mean, you did say we all hide behind a facade. So, let’s talk about Joker, the one we see on TV getting the best of Batman.” You scribble a little picture of him, smiling wide and in his signature purple suit. Jutting your chin, you gestured for him to look at it. “This will be the outside Joker…” You do another little doodle, one of Joker without his makeup and in the Arkham garb. “And this will be the you in here.”

The Joker looks down at your drawings and bites the inside of his cheek. “Not much of a difference, doll face, except that I look even crappier in here.”

You roll your eyes. “Are you proud of the person that Gotham has come to know?”

“Define proud.”

“Do you feel a sense of satisfaction over the person you allow Gotham to see? This crazy clown figure?”

Joker tilts his head back, thinking, and you can’t help but stare intensely at his neck, tracing down his throat to his Adam’s apple, which moves as he swallows. Geez, what is up with you and the staring today? Luckily, he doesn’t think for long, tilting his head back down to look at you. “I’m just fine with whatever I showed to Gotham. And I don’t regret-tah one bit of it.” Looking all smug, he smirks. “I’m not proud of who I am, I relish it. Bask in it. The Clown Prince of Crime, they call me! Nothin’ better than that, doll. Means I’ve made a difference.”

“You’ve certainly made an impact, Mr. J. For better or for worse.”

“And whaddya get out of all that, doll? That I’m some kind of egotistical maniac?”

“Let me do the analyzing, please, Mr. J.”

He grunts. “Yeah, yeah,” he mumbles, and you can’t help but smile. “You say you’re proud, but clearly it’s not enough,” you tell him, scribbling notes underneath the doodle of him. “When you get out of here, you’d like to go back to all that, wouldn’t you? Go back to testing the B-Man?”

“Batsy and I just fit so well together, dolly. We’re meant to chase one another to the end of our days!”

If you can find him. “All the stuff you pulled then, did it really amount to anything if you want more?”

“Oh, doll, it’s not that I want more. I’m not just some kinda freak gettin’ a good fix when I cause havoc. My point just keeps needing to be made!” He winks at you. “Course, I know that if I get out of here I’ll have to behave.”

You seriously doubt Joker even knows the concept of behaving. “B-Man would just get you again, would he not?”

Joker cackles. He laughs at everything but you’re always confused when he laughs at something you don’t find remotely humorous. “That’s the fun part! He and I, we’re like a cat and mouse, like in those old cartoons. We’re just chasing each other in damn circles and, ah, the fun doesn’t-tah stop until one of us falls.” With a cruel smile, he flicks his fingers, as if toppling something over. “And I don’t intend to be the first to fall.”

“And after B-Man falls?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see, I suppose. Doesn’t sound very fun. Why, you got a soft spot for the Bat?”

“For Batsy?” Technically, you’re not supposed to be very vocal in your own opinions, especially when they do nothing to help, but wouldn’t it be good for Joker to know you’re with him on some things? Not that Joker has too much disdain in Batman, he clearly loves to mess with him, but obviously the two are on very different sides. You want to show Joker you stand with him. “Absolutely not. The Bat hasn’t done anything to benefit me. If anything I feel more… useless. This man in a mask gets to go around fighting criminals and gets praised and here I am busting my butt everyday and what do I get? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” You clap a hand over your mouth. Way to go overboard. “I’m sorry, I’m rambling.”

The Joker, of course, doesn’t care that you rambled on. He looks amused. No, not just amused, he looks pleased. His whole face contorts into an evil grin. “Well well well, doll face, nowwww we’re talking. Why didn’t you tell me you loathed the Batman so much?”

“Didn’t think it important.”

“Well, ah, I find it important. Looks like we wanna both go after the Batman, don’t we?”

“Go after him?” Now it’s your turn to laugh. “Obviously I’m not going to do that.”

He scooches forward. “But you’d like to. Come on, doll, given the chance, wouldn’t you wanna, ah, take the Bat down?”

For some reason, you actually think about it. If you really did have the chance, would you want to bring down the Bat? He was already down now, obviously, but if you had had the chance before then, would you have taken B-Man down? Before you can even dive into it, you snap yourself out of it. Why would you even care to do all that in the first place? Imagine you, beating up Batman? You’re not crazy. “I’m not so sure about that.”

Joker shrugs. “That isn’t a no.”

Things are going far from where you need them to be. “Let’s take this conversation back to you, Mr. J. How about we talk about the Joker in here? Nothing left for you to do except sit and think. You’re not out causing havoc, you’ve been stripped of your weapons and your makeup, what do you feel about yourself now?”

Already, you can tell the Joker isn’t too fond of the question. He squirms uncomfortably in his chair, muttering things under his breath that all sound nonsensical to you. For some reason, you kinda like it. It’s about time you get under his skin too. “I feel like I wanna hurt someone,” he answers, clenching his fists. “I just wanna get out there and get back to everything.”

“Okay… see, you’re angry at being in here, and you don’t know how to handle your emotions so you’re resorting to violence.” As much as that’s probably true, you’re almost sure that if you were stuck in Arkham, you’d wanna hurt a few people too but that won’t help.

“Violence solves a lot more problems than ya think.”

“Not mental ones. I think I’m seeing what’s going on here, Mr. J.”

Joker taps on the table, a random pattern of noise. “And that is?”

You point with your pen between the two Joker sketches. “Both these people have unresolved problems, problems coped with by violence. Plenty of people do this, but they don’t go around trying to make their points to the whole damn city. These huge acts of violence are outcries and you don’t even realize it. You have no one to turn to to sort your feelings out with and this is what the outcome is.” You look back up at him, and it’s clear he’s confused. “I told you at our last session, you need company. Someone you can relate to, empathize with, talk through these feelings with.”

He frowns. “And what about you, huh? You’re, ah, just as alone as me, not a soul to talk to, and yet you’re not blowing up hospitals.”

Will he ever quit trying to analyze you? “I have other means of coping, Mr. J. Whatever happened to you… it made you hurt. And this hurt, it turned you away from people, even though we need companionship. We seek attention and validation and yet I fear you’re seeking it in all the wrong ways.”

“Who says we need companionship?”

“Human nature. Our hearts. Your mental state,” you say harshly.

His tongue pushes out his scar as he licks the inside of his cheek. “Feistyyy. I like it when you’re all, ah, riled up.”

Joker was really pushing your buttons now, and it was worse that no matter how upset you got at him, he’d find some kind of enjoyment in it. You really couldn’t win some of the battles he put you up against. Yet, the purr in his voice made your cheeks heat. You could never tell when to be angered or enamored. “I really do think that whatever happened in your childhood resulted in your detachment from emotion, and a distrust in people, and this mix of the two… well, it hasn’t been the best for you.”

“So, whaddya suggest? I go mingle with some of the other Arkham patients? Spend some quality time together finger painting and singing Christmas carols?” His laugh comes out as a sharp exhale. “I don’t think friendship is gonna fix me, doll.”

“I wasn’t going to suggest any of that,” you assert. “I just think that isolating ourselves from not just people but also feelings, now that doesn’t get us anywhere good.”

“Clearly,” he giggles, lifting up his cuffed wrists. “But I’ve been doing just fine, doll, aside from this little incident of being locked up in here.”

It was like the Joker just considered Arkham some bump in the road before he could continue his anarchy. That wasn’t good. He couldn’t have his heart set on going back to taking down Batman, no matter how good his reason. Especially considering, well, Batman was nowhere to be seen. Gosh, you wish you could just tell him. Maybe he wouldn’t see it as motivation, maybe it would shut down all his ideas. There was just far too much risk with everything. Say something, say nothing. The Joker was a lot of uncertainties. “But you shouldn’t have to be locked up in here. You don’t have to be if you just try and listen to me. I really want you to get better.”

“I don’t need to get better,” he growls. “The way other people feel, it’s just a soft spot for others to exploit. I’m already winning because nobody has anything on me. Chaos stirs something inside me, isn’t that enough?”

“No, Mr. J, you need more than that,” you plead. Why is he so stubborn? “Just a little company can do wonders. Just some faith in someone.”

“So they can do what? Push me down on my knees like some kind of sinner, making me beg for forgiveness? Making me change my ways? You really are crazy if you believe that.”

Joker is impossible, really. You don’t know how else to get your message across, how to make him listen. So instead, you think back on your deal, take a deep breath, and give him a story.

“When I was ten years old, the kids at school all decided they hated me so much that they all pretended I didn’t exist. I’d try and approach people and… and they never even acknowledged me. It followed me all throughout the rest of my school years.” You mess with your coat, fidgeting with the buttons, not quite able to meet Joker’s gaze. “I know how it feels when people hurt you.”

You wait, wondering if the Joker will give you a story back. You’re surprised when he opens his mouth to speak. “Once, ah, when I was just starting out, one of the criminals I hired managed to sneak up on me, knocked me to the floor real good. Kept babblin’ on about how I was a freak, how I’d never amount to anything, the heel of his boot digging into my back.” He stops, taking a deep breath, and you wonder for a moment if he’s going to stop all together but he continues. “Course, with all his ramblin’, he failed to notice me grabbing a blade. I stabbed him right in the foot, and oh boy, did he scream. I gave him the nastiest beating of his life, I’m sure. Blood all over the floor. And right before I was done, I made sure to give him and I matching smiles. Die with a smile, no?” Joker holds his chin up. “I don’t need people. People don’t care.”

It’s only a single story yet you realize the Joker has so much behind him. So many incidents that seemed to have fueled the thunderous rage beneath his skin. This man, finding humor in the wickedness of the world, wanting to show that everyone is essentially just as rotten as he, has been torn apart over and over again. Society had crushed the both of you yet here you sat, a doctor, and there he sat before you, a madman. In your anger towards the world, you had sought to try and help it, and in his anger, he wanted to burn it all down. You still had hope left in people, he had let that all die away.

He said people didn’t care, but you cared. This was more than just a way towards a paycheck, you really did want to help him. That’s what you’d always wanted for every Arkham patient. Yet the others did not quite distrust people as much as Joker did. Joker didn’t have anyone for him. How was it that Batman, a murderer playing superhero, still had half the city on his side and yet everyone just wanted Joker to rot away in here? You think about yourself, and how much better you would feel if you did have someone, if you had been given love and support along your miserable journey. If you could give Joker the support you’d always wanted, well, maybe that would change something in him.

“We’re both pretty messed up, huh?” you finally say, deciding not to comment on anything specifically about Joker’s anecdote. No need to keep talking about something so horrific. Joker didn’t need that. He needed comfort.

Joker blows air from his nose, smiling softly. “We are, aren’t we? Just a buncha freaks.”

“Freaks still need to stick with other freaks.”

“And who have you got exactly, Miss l/n?”

You freeze. Nobody. Absolutely nobody. He knows it. Yet for a moment you feel… well, embarrassed. Your hand creeps to your warming face, your eyes feel suddenly watery. You don’t have your parents anymore. No old friends from school or college, not that there were many to begin with. No coworker friends, shitty bosses. All you have is yourself and you hate it.

Joker seems to notice that his comment didn’t go down well, and he holds up his hands like he’s gesturing for you to stop, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion. “Uh, doll, I didn’t mean to pry…”

“No, no, it’s fine…” You quickly wipe at your eyes with the back of your hand. “Just wasn’t expecting the question, I guess.”

“Right,” he mumbles. “It wasn’t, uh, meant to be an insult.”

You let your eyes flutter close for a second and take a nice, long breath in. When your eyes open again, you straighten yourself out, contemplating your next words. “I know how it feels to be alone, Mr. J. More than anything.” Your voice comes out as a whisper, your fingers drifting towards his own, which are splayed out on the table. He sits up very still, unmoving save for a twitch in his jaw, as he watches you place your hand on top of his. You’re not sure what you’re doing, but you need your point made. “I… I know how much you think you don’t need people, but people offer support and guidance, and if I could have some of that right now, for fucks sake, I would.” You sigh. “I don’t have a lot of friends.”

Joker’s tongue slowly traces along his chapped lips. You wish you knew what he was thinking. You hated how well he read you and you could hardly get anything on him. Finally, he speaks. “Well, you got one now.”

The Joker, a friend. It sounds like the stupidest thing in the entire world. This was someone who had hurt and killed and destroyed. Someone who was close to no one, the people around him with one purpose: to serve him. He had said how loyalty didn’t come for free, that it needed to be bought. If something so simple as loyalty was seen as a transaction to him, did he even comprehend the concept of companionship? He must have, at some point, whoever the man before the Joker was. But the person you were dealing with was not that man, you were dealing with Joker. Joker did not seem a man who connected with anyone yet he tells you how alike the two of you are, and you can’t help but believe it. Alone in the world, the two of you. Maybe he can’t yet bring himself to make a real connection with anyone but, goddammit, you wanted him to try.

Why not be alone together?

It would all be in hopes of helping him, you told yourself. Whatever relationship the two of you were forming. If he could have someone to talk to, not just in a professional sense, but someone who would really be there for him, you think that would help a lot.

That’s all this is. This is to help him.

You squeeze his hand. “I like the sound of that, Mr. J.”

—————

It started off as a joke, really.

Joker didn’t want to be analyzed. The first night he had been brought into Arkham, he had been poked and prodded, as doctors tried to decipher what kinda pills to stuff him full of. Joker had tried to fight them off, but they had injected him with something that made him sluggish. Just a few hours later was when they had sent in all the psychiatrists to try and fix him. Joker didn’t need to be fixed. He was an agent of chaos, a force to be reckoned with, something they just couldn’t comprehend. Then you’d come along, and you were so lonely, and Joker liked toying with things that were easy to break. Except you’re nothing like the others. There’s something about you, this way that you interact with him, the way you don’t see him as some freak. When you stare at him, you don’t look at him like he’s a monster. It’s strange.

Joker doesn’t do friends. The term itself means nothing to him. It’s a meaningless word. Most words are meaningless to him, empty sayings. Yet when you look at him with those eyes, like he’s your equal rather than beneath you, Joker does feel something. Some kind of connection. He’s never thought about killing you, which says something. It’s the only way he can describe this feeling towards you, something other than the pure disdain he usually feels towards others. There is something… warm about you. Joker didn’t like it. Yet he let it happen anyways.

Long after you’re gone, when he’s strapped onto the metal slab the Arkham guards call a bed, he thinks on some of your words. You thought a companion would help him. Someone he could rely on. Someone who would truly be loyal.

He smiles wickedly to himself. You might just be right.

Taglist: @lightsabergirl / @knoepfl / @jeffswh0re / @itsmrshamilton / @heath-ledger-jokers-wife / @lolwey

Lmk if you'd like to be added! Hope the @'s are working lol...

#dark knight #dark knight joker #dark knight joker x reader #heath ledger joker #heath ledger joker x reader #joker x reader #ledger joker x reader #dark knight fanfic #dc joker

60 notes · View notes

house-of-slayterr · 3 months ago

Text

Jonathan Crane Headcanons:

Tag: @kados-of-chaos @keffirinne @myers-meadow

As I’ve said in a previous head cannon I do believe Crane has some form of OCD. Something he’s fully convinced he can treat himself as he doesn’t believe in seeing the other psychiatrist in Gotham, let alone his colleges he views an inferior at Arkham. He easily grows obsessed with patients, much more quickly than Harley ever did with Joker. But he doesn’t fall in love with that, his obsession is much much darker. His compulsion drive him to devour every part of his patients psyche, learn everything about what makes them tic, he’s gonna as far as to steal items from his favourite patients or visit them once they’re “good” enough to leave Arkham. His patient obsession helps to distract him from his Batman obsession, and he uses both to avoid the intrusive thoughts he hates so much. Most of which are about his father.

Because of this, it’s not far fetched for you to become an object of his obsession. Jonathan will learn every inch of you body, lurk in every corner of your brain. Jonathan will be sure you’re as obsessed with him as he is with you. He believes this is healthy, and will resort to giving you Stockholm syndrome to make you fall in love with him. He needs control in his relationships, he’ll only hurt his darling little bird if they break his rules, but he fully believes it’s for your safety. Jonathan would kidnap you and steal you away form everyone he thinks is poisoning you without hesitation. Even using some drugs from his job or his own fear gas if he has to, in order to program you.

I believe Jonathan enjoys more than just psychological tortures. The man loves to see red, but he’s less interested in it being by his hand specifically. To keep up his rouse he likes to “save” people, but little does everyone know he always orchestrated the situation anyways. He’s driven many patients to kill before, he finds it amusing how weak and easy they are to push over the edge. Then they get caught for doing his biding and he gets to hide in plain sight. But he’s also convinced patients to turn the blade on themselves before. Partially if you were his darling, he’d drive you to carve his name into your own skin. Do things to prove your dedication to him. He finds your devotion to him amusing and will reward you after. But he will make you worse before he lets you get better, there’s no way he’s letting you out of his care, even if it means breaking you mentally.

He cares a lot about his public imagine and what the people at large think about him. His suits, his hair, his face is always impeccable. Never a spot on his glasses or a wrinkle in his suit. He must look perfect when leaving the safety of his home or lab without his scarecrow mask. Which, by the way, is always on him or close by, he can’t be without it for too long. Once he’s trapped his darling little bird, he’ll do the same to you. He’ll fuss over hair, makeup, general appearance, he’ll even iron your clothes for you if you refuse. He won’t be seen with you unless you look as adequate as he does. He knows people like to stare when you go out, might as well give them something to stare at. But people should be careful not to stare to long or they be visited by a certain scarecrow at night, defending the honour of his favourite bird.

Jonathan I believe would be a very sexual man, he pretend at work to not be interested in anything of the sort, most people not even used to seeing the doctor dating anyone. When he’s single, his sexual fantasies play out much darker. But once he has someone to share his desires with, the man becomes a feral animal. He’s gone as far as to beg for more before, addicted to your touch, taste, sound, it’s all that distracts him now form the intrusive thoughts. He loves to tie you up, see you helpless, roleplaying as your psychiatrist or doctor is his favourite. Doing things to you he’s not allowed to do to patients. He’d never dare taint his fingers with their feeling, or his mouth with their taste. If his mind wonders, his body is still only yours. He growls a lot during sex and loves if you dig your nails into him and leave mark he has to hide. He finds it scandalous and exciting to have your little secret written all over him. Jonathan doesn’t like children, but that doesn’t mean you’re free from his breeding kink, he’s obsessed with the idea of getting you pregnant. Even if your AMAB it wouldn’t stop the filthy words from pouring out of his mouth, of how much he wish he could claim you that way. He’s certainly a dom, but he can switch between hard and soft. He’s willing to be more gentle if you need but some nights he needs to be rough, use you to get out his pent up frustrations. Usually after he comes home defeated by the Batman. He will have you at his will for hours whenever he can. Not letting up no matter how much you squirm.

Surpassingly, he’s a cat person. He’s not a big fan of dogs as most people don’t train there’s, but cats, you could convince him to rescue a few. But they must be as put together as they two of you. He will brush and groom them frequently, make sure they’re healthy and put them in little outfits for family photos. He’s much softer to them than he is to people. He’s very gentle and reassuring if an animal passes away, as he knows what to say to grieving people. He’ll not leave your side until you’re ok again.

He loves to be of service if you’re sick, tacking care of you is his top priority. Especially if it’s something serious that causes you to go to the hospital, he will be there everyday to check in for hours unless he’s pulled away from a work emergency. Even then he doesn’t leave you happily. He will nurse you back to health and bow to your every whim until you’re on your feet again. Because he knows you’d do the same for him.

No matter how tempested he is, he won’t experiment on his darling unless they ask for it. He wants to break you from your fears the same way his father freed him. But he knows how painful the process was and won’t put you through that unless you agreed or he truly thought it was for your safety. He will however get you used to his fear gas so it can never backfire and be used against him to hurt you. But don’t worry, if you scared he’ll hold you close and help you sleep at night.

Jonathan is not one to share, he won’t let any other villain in Gotham lay a hand on you. Not without consequences. He’s willing to take out the others or even work with Batman to do so just to keep you safe. He doesn’t view the other villains as his friends or colleagues and will crush them if they get in his way. Or try to hurt his little bird. Jonathan also goes feral when you wear his clothes or cologne because of it. He loves when you smell like him, it makes him happy. He never gets mad for long if one of his favorite shirts or blazers goes missing when he finds you fast asleep wearing it. He loves to show you off but makes it clear you’re just for him.

An: lol I got bored this morning idk if any of these make sense.

#fang writes #gotham headcanons #jonathan crane #jonathan crane x reader #the scarecrow #gotham villains

71 notes · View notes

illya-roma · 1 year ago

Text

DP X DC PROMPT- (Fic that I'd totally probably might write)

Jason had learned from being a Robin to being Red Hood to expect a lot of things, from fighting the deranged to expecting the unexpected like daina (WONDER WOMAN!) being mind controlled.

But he never expected this.

He usually doesn't come here to begin, not after- after it happened, but he does each time whenever the pits wants to remind hims of what he could have lost. (What he lost, how it hurt hurt hurt. How HE hurt them. He knows that even if they forgive him, they'll never trust him again. The pit laughs from behind)

But tonight, in front of him sat someone?something? what appears to be a teenager from 14 to 16, with red hair that flickers similar to a flame and skin too pale and ears too pointy.

But it?she? sat on one of the headstone with her eyes glazed, too deep in her own thoughts.

A series of bubbles cut her off. She proceeded to put the baby (that seemed completely human) on her shoulder and allowed him to burb. Then cocooned him in blankets and hummed him to sleep.

Right now, he isn't red hood (or Robin). And his gun may not affect her, that is if the child belongs to someone else. (Did the parents give them to her? Or is she related? Have any alarms of a breakout occur that a meta? experiments? escape?).

(He sounds like Bruce.)

"A penny for your thoughts?"

The girl had her eyes on the child, with a small sad smile and flickers of flaming hair. "Just..."

"Just wondering what my grave would have looked like."

He sucked a breath.

"That ones yours...right?"

The girl (child ghost holy fuck!) nodded her head to his own grave. "Y-yeah...it's mine."

"It's beautiful... And well cleaned...They must've cared a lot, mister Jason."

He never thought about that. A well taken grave describes a caring family wouldn't it? (They do care! How is it still clean though?)

"Yeah...but uh...um...What's up with the..the baby?" Is the baby alive?

"Oh...Noone will take care of my baby boy... So.. I had to come back..."

She pushed back a few strands of black hair with tender eyes and the lightest touch. As if he where the most fragile crystle.

Jason could see himself in the child. All loved to the point his own mother would give up everything just for him. Except it was Bruce, it was Bruce that took him in and loved him. Standing beside his bed during nightmares when he cried and taking away the monsters. Sitting with Alfred, cooking together and exchanging stories.

(His family loved him. His family loves him.)

"Would you like to fly with me?"

Robin made me magic

He keeps wiping his face while she put the baby in a safer position. "We can have a brawl for fun after I put little Danny in his bed a-" she stopped mid scentence when looking at him

He sputtered. " Is something wrong?"

With fear in her eyes she floated, creating distance between both of them. She shaked her head in disbelief.

"You...you died..."

He took a step farther, not wanting to scare them away.

"But..b-but your... nononono why do you look like that?!"

He wanted to ask like what, but she disappeared before his eyes. (Did she know he wasn't safe? That he hurt his family?)

...

Beep

"Hey Jaylad, is the pit be-

"B-Bruce"

"Jason, what's wrong? Are yo- what happend?"

"I'm sorry, I'm s-so sorry, I'm sorry! Dad I'm sor-"

"I'm coming, hang in there."

"Little Wing what's wrong?"

"Todd, who hurt you? Who should I kill?"

"Jason, back ups close. Breath with me, alright!"

(His family loves him)

(The pits were silenced)

_______________________________________

In an alternative universe the Fenton are still driving around and setting up traps, unfortunately Jazz is the one who removes them and got caught.

Since jazz is the one that doesn't wear hazmats and dany is still a baby (she makes sure is far from their experiments with ectoplasm), she becomes a ghost who decides that she doesn't want Danny to get hurt and takes him somewhere near a lot of ectoplasm.

Gotham: sweet baby girl, little baby harley.

Let the drama begin.

Chapter 2

#dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp crossover #dc x dp #dp crossover #dp x dc prompt #dpxdc #dp x dc fanfic #dc x dp au #jazz was a child but sees herself as a teenager #not and adult like the not dependaple adults around her #and not a child tgat she needs help for #but is still a psychiatrist girl #angst #fluff #?#dp au #dp x dc au

656 notes · View notes

coupleoffanfics · 4 months ago

Text

How would Batsis! y/n become a villain?

I found this while trying to clean up my writing drafts. Not sure when I wrote this, but I decided to post it because why not.

Jerome Route

If she had no friends, that connection with Barbara, or relationship with Jeremiah then Jerome would have a considerably easier time charming y/n. The emotional neglect from the family makes her desperate for any sort of contention leading her right into the hands of Jerome.

The family would believe that y/n can be saved, but she sees them trying to save face. Trying to stop her from telling Jerome all the big bad Batman's secrets by saying they're sorry and that they care. She doesn't end up telling him about their identities because someone has to keep Gotham safe. She's with Jerome, but she doesn't agree with everything he does.

y/n might purposefully sabotage Jerome's schemes. It's not because she cares for the family, no. It's for Batman and his Robins to keep innocent people safe. She keeps the family and their personas separate. At least she'll try to see them as separate.

Her logic is backwards and hypocritical, but frankly she doesn't care enough anymore. All that matters is Jerome's love. Who needs friends or family when you can have Jerome?

y/n and Jerome probably argued over wedding ideas.. Jerome wants a circus theme with a replica of his mom as a pinata. While y/n wants a traditional, elegant wedding. They compromise by letting y/n have that traditional vibe with the ceremony and Jerome can go batshit with the reception.

Jerome never put so much thought into something before and he never wants to do that again.

The Batfamily was not invited of course. The family most likely hears about it or even sends wedding photos. y/n probably has Joker or some other villain walk her down the aisle. Bruce sulks about it for months.

Post-Spray Jeremiah Route

If y/n had no one else besides Jeremiah and her moral compass was cracked. Then of course she's almost going to believe everything he tells her.

There's no denying that Gotham is a modern day Babylon. Yeah, the world would be better without it. Maybe it would be a good thing if we do get rid of it. Yeah, we could rebuild it!

But she'll run into the same problem of not fully following Jeremiah's ideology. At least how he goes about obtaining the goal of cleaning up Gotham. The cult stuff freaks her out a lot. When his followers bow down to her and praise her, she'll tell them to stop but he orders them to do that.

After expressing her discomfort over the cult and the followers' behavior, Jeremiah will distance her from it. Having her become sheltered in the bunker or a manor hidden away in the woods. Meaning the only relationship she can have with anyone who isn't Jeremiah is Ecco. Even then Ecco is just another follower that was trained to be a guard dog.

This version of y/n wouldn't be too involved compared to the Jerome route. But if Jeremiah was caught and sent to Arkham, y/n is sneaking in to break him out. It could be by disguising herself as a guard or forcefully entering it with full confidence.

The family would try to reason with her if only they could actually talk to her. Again since she's not hands on it's a rarity for them to see her.

The few times they've met face to face was when their hero personas. Jeremiah and Ecco were busy fighting off the others, giving them time to talk. If they try to convince her to leave him, she'll either ignore it or tell them about how he's all she ever had. The only family member that could possibly break through to y/n would probably be Jason or maybe even Barbara.

Jeremiah and y/n get offended when they're compared to Joker and Harley. They'll clearly be different because they have a healthy and loving relationship. People probably come up with the comparison because of his physical appearance and he hates it. They're not wrong when they say their relationship is loving, but it being healthy is debatable.

y/n is more than willing to kill or torture someone if they were to do anything to Jeremiah. Though once again her hands are off, but doesn't mind getting her hands dirty.

y/n is the type to write like love letters and put them into Jeremiah's pocket before he leaves. He's in the middle of fighting Batman and suddenly a pink paper with a red heart border falls out of his pocket. Seeing it makes him scramble to grab it and shove it back into his pocket. He'll read it later.

This y/n might live a more semi-normal life, but probably struggles with loneliness and depression. Since Jeremiah is often working and Ecco is Ecco.

Sprayed Route

The moment y/n realizes what is happening she goes to Jeremiah and contacts Barbara who informs the family. They'd probably find a cure, but for the sake of story and angst let's say they can't.

Everyone is just forced to watch y/n become what essentially a Joker lookalike. Or she could look completely the same, doesn't really matter because they'll all be horrified by the drastic change.

She'd use the knowledge of their identities against them. Dangling it above their heads, but it isn't long before they realize that she isn't going to say anything. Oh, but she's definitely telling Jeremiah all about this. Of course he swears to never tell anyone and he might start working with the family to lock y/n up.

Not only was she endangering herself, but others as well. The best thing for everyone is to lock her up.

If she learns about Jeremiah working against her. She'd be so heartbroken. Violently throwing and smashing everything in the room she was in before coming up with an idea. 'He'd never be against me, they probably forced him to work for them. It's all their fault. They always ruin everything, but I won't let them take him.'

Out of all of the other possible routes this y/n would be the most vindictive. She'll guilt trip the family with her sob stories of their neglect, their personas won't won't react. But she knows they'll be thinking about what she said hours later. She'll spit out insults and won't hold back fighting.

Her once passive and defensive fighting style has completely flipped to almost recklessly aggressive. The only way she'll stop fighting back is if they restrain or knock her out.

Arkham isn't hard for her to adjust to. She'll explain to her few visitors (Jeremiah, Barbara, and Alfred) that it reminds her of Wayne manor. But less lonely.

Barbara and Alfred are the only family members she'll allow to visit her. As she still has a bit of a soft spot for them. Will not admit it, but she's always pleasantly surprised when Babs visits her or Alfred sends her some of his cooking. It almost makes her tear up and feel immense sadness. Just almost.

Probably besties with Riddler or something. Most Arkham inmates know of the name Jeremiah Valeska by how much y/n will mindlessly ramble about him. They also know not to mess with him because they'll be put on top of her shit list.

Masterlist Here

#x reader #batfamily x batsis reader #batsis reader #batfamily x reader #jerome valeska x reader

60 notes · View notes

thatflatenedfrogontheroad · 7 months ago

Text

I made a tier list...

please make your own!! I need to see boomer nations opinions on our man!!!! I know the tiers are actually so vile so change them if you desire :)))

OK so my quick blurb on why they are their!! (working worst to best)

28. Identity Crisis #5 - HE WOULD KILL ME FOR THE FUN OF IT. It did bring about the most random rivalry between Tim drake’s fandom and boomer's which is very funny

27. Black Lantern - Oh no… he's back… like a boomerang. Ate his own son... RIP…. L skill issue

26. Sliver Age - Would actually call me a slur and say that I don't deserve rights. He would hate crime me and then solicit me for sex. He looks like he's wearing a dress… what a pretty lady.

25. Flash TV Show - EWWWWWWWW, he though he ate...

24. DC Online - He looks like he would punch me in face at a NYC bus stop

23. White Lantern - Don't look at me like that… stop. He's back from the dead like a boomerang?? Something about most of the New 52 boomerangs don't hit the same. the bride all in white :’)

22. Young Justice - Gave me the ick. You might be thinking... he looks identical to SS hell to pay, why is he down here?? Great question… HE WAS SO CREEPY TO ONE OF THE GIRLS IN YOUNG JUSTICE….. WHO IS A MINOR!

21. Injustice Movie - Just because your in the background… doesn't save you from this list!!!

20. New 52 - Ok he's kinda hot if you look through your peripherals…Why are you wearing skinny jeans… you millennial

19. Harley Quinn TV Show - He's fine… just fine. “We’ll stack out bingo… Boomer loves an older woman” NO HE MUST LOVE ME! I AM VERY VERY MATURE FOR MY AGE

18. Flash: Sins of the Father - Can you please stop talking in the 3rd person… you are starting to sound crazy.

17. Most Wanted - I know jack shit about him. That's probably because he is barely in a comic issues THATS NAMED AFTER HIM!

16. Flash Point Paradox - His fight scene actually ate. I'm a sucker for Boomer being with the Rogues. If cyborg can take his belt off… so can I

15. Suicide Squad 2021 - Wow they somehow gave him even less lines than his first movie. 1. He doesnt look like boomer. 2. His accent is so bad… and hes AUSTRALIAN 3. His acting low key kinda mid 4. They killed off two of the only OG suicide squad members they had on the cast 5. He dies in the first 20min and in the most disrespectful way

14. Suicide Squad 2016 - The only good thing to come from this man is the fanfiction he brought. THIS FUCKING MOVIE MADE HIM A CANON BRONY WHICH I CAN NOT FORGIVE. GET THIS OUT OF MY SMUT BEFORE FREAK THE FUCK OUT >:( Fuck him and pinky too, you son of a bitch!!!! (its not that serious lol... i just want him to stop fucking a toy horse... please guys)

13. This Goober Alien Guy - I know nothing. He just kinda showed up… and I'm not mad just a little confused. He looks like he needs a hot chocolate and a hug :))))

12. Lego Batman Movie - Low key an icon. What I would do to get my hands on one of these sets… I would come close to killing someone for it

11. DC Lego Super Villains - If he wasn't Lego I would propose (Shane Dawson style) Once again what I would do for the very discontinued Lego set tie in…

10. Batman: Brave and The Bold - Those cheekbones could cut someone. Why are you wear a mini skirt… take it off ;)

9. Suicide Squad (comic) - Yes I know he was drinking and driving but he's not real so it doesn't count!!! The beginning of the Boomer Mobile! THE GAP TOOTH DUDE!

8. Justice League Unlimited S1 - AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! Ok the hairline is… bad…. But so is mine twin!! I LOVE THAT THEY GAVE HIM PROPER CLOTHES AND NOT RAGS DUDE

7. Agent of Oz - is this picture is my school profile pic...yes… and??HE'S COVERED IN BLOOD AND IM GIGGLING!!!!!!!!!!!

6. Stjepan Sejic's Boomer - Choke hold and choke me... I want to hear his voice but he can't break his mewing streak…The ungodly things I would let him do to me

5. Dark: Apocalypse War - Constantine! Boomer! GIRLS! GIRLS!! ILL SLEEP WITH BOTH OF YOU!!! I was not expecting him in this movie so I started to freak out when he showed up DUDE. PLEASE LET ME SIT ON IT

4. Suicide Squad: Hell to Pay - I'm a ride he wouldn't survive… I DONT HAVE WORDS TO DECRIBE HOW I FEEL DUDE… I WOULD DO ANYTHING HE ASKED FOR NO JOKE. Dead on the floor

3. Justice League Unlimited S2 - The glow up in REAL... had me on my hands and knees as a 3rd grader… and still on my knees today. I have never wanted someone to fuck me in the back alleyway of a shit bar so bad in my life

2. Batman: Assault on Arkham - The one that started it all… he is the reason I am this way. no lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the dining table to the bedroom BUT GREG ELLIS IS PUBLIC ENIME NUMDER ONE. YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID!!!!

AND THE BEST ONE!!!!!!!! WE ALL SAW IT COMING

1. Suicide Squad: Kill the Justice League - I AM GNAWING ON THE IRON BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE!!!!!! He has it all, the face, the VOICE, the look, the character!!!!! It is hands down the most consistently good representation of captain boomerang out their… and its canon that's he has a big dick :D I would sell my first born to get one night…

Thank you all for reading this word vom, I am sick in the head <3

if any of the comic issues are off or something please let me know :)

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE make your our and tag me!! i need to see them <3<3<3

#captain boomerang #dc villains #digger harkness #george digger harkness #rouges #kill the justice league #captain boomerang x reader

99 notes · View notes

ryemiffie · 7 months ago

Text

Not sure if this has been thought before, but I was thinking about Jason and Tim's relationship and how everything went down with Jason's whole revenge plan or whatever and I present the thought of:

Jason is revived, spends his time with the league and then goes and sees that Batman has 'replaced' him with Tim, of course he's hurt by this and he starts to question if Bruce ever really viewed Jason as a son or if it was all just in Jason's head, he doesn't want to believe that Bruce would replace him but the evidence is damning.

Jason being so hurt by this he decides he can't tell Bruce he's back, and goes on to plan all his Red Hood drama. At first Jason is content with doing what he thinks is right as Red Hood and is fine just killing the Joker on his own. As long as Joker is off the streets and can't hurt anyone else Jason thinks this will be enough.

Years pass and Jason has made a name for himself as the Red Hood, and during this time he has become accustomed to seeing Batman fighting alongside his new sidekick, his new Robin. Whether in passing or from a distance, Jason has seen how the two interact and function with each other, and he recognises how much Tim seems to care for Bruce. It's hurtful to think of Bruce having moved on and replacing him but Jason sees his younger self in the way Tim looks at Batman while they're in battle.

In this time Jason has not been able to bring himself to kill the Joker, his own mental turmoil at the idea of facing the man who killed him keeping him from acting on his anger, instead he only fights against the joker from afar, foiling his schemes in ways that didn't require him to ever actually have to face the twisted man.

Jason tries his best to avoid Batman and his new protege, and just continue working in the shadows of Gotham as Red Hood without having to deal with any conflict from the dark knight/his dad, while from afar feeling a sort of connection with Tim, he is technically his younger brother now right? Even if Jason can't bring himself to so much as wave in his direction when near enough that Tim might see him. During a team up of some kind, probably with someone like Harley Quin, Red Hood is informed of the Joker Jr incident and is suddenly filled with such rage, such anguish at the idea that not only had Bruce failed to save Jason, had let him die and then allowed the Joker to keep his own life, but that Bruce would allow Joker to hurt another one of his sons, to hurt Jason's brother. That even after seeing both Jason and Tim suffer at the Joker's hands that Bruce would still let that man continue with his life, continue to hurt people whether those people be members of the batfamily or just civilians caught in the crossfire of an endlessly painful rivalry between the clown and the bat. That Bruce would continue to take Tim out in the field and put him anywhere near the Joker to fight. When it was just for his own peace Jason could've ended the Joker on his own and let that be enough, sure it hurt Jason to think that the man he had seen as his father didn't care enough to avenge him but he would've survived, as long as he got to watch the life drain from Joker's face and the smile spill off his face when he died. But now, knowing what Batman had allowed to happen, not just to himself, but to Tim as well? It was just too much.

That would be the final straw. The thing that makes Jason finally go directly after Joker, to reveal himself to his father, to scream at him and air out his pain, his sorrow and his anguish, yelling "How could you let him do it? How could you let him continue living after what he did to me? How could you have allowed him to live on to hurt Tim? You couldn't protect me so why didn't you protect him? Was it not enough? To lose me? Was that not enough to make you realise? If I wasn't enough why wasn't Tim? It should've ended with me and it needs to end with Tim! How many more Robins will you let him hurt beyond repair? How many Bruce?! You need to end this! Please end this! If you couldn't do it for me please do it for Tim, he deserves better than you gave me!"

Anyway, just a thought I had. it's kinda hard to articulate in this typa format but maybe I'll write it out as a fanfic and it'll make more sense? Don't know if I will though, let me know if that's something anyone would be interested in I guess. But yeah, I'm just like really interested in Jason and Tim's dynamic and the potential they have for brotherly angst and shenanigans so I might just write some random Tim and Jason interactions for funsies whether or not I decide to post 'em.

72 notes · View notes

savagewildnerness · 2 months ago

Text

The Vampire Lestat intro and Lelio rising questions

Gonna share just the questions here now... I'm intrigued if anyone would like to answer any!

At the start of TVL, Lestat has been In The Earth. Do you think he will have been In The Earth in this era on the TV show? (As Louis has seen him pretty recently, which makes it seem like perhaps he won’t have been?)

The ‘spirit’ of 1984 reminds Lestat of the 1700’s. Will there be anything about the 2020’s that Lestat will associate with/that will remind him of the late eighteenth century?

“I did a lot of thinking about this sinless, secular morality, this optimism” - will this be a driving force for modern day Lestat? What will he think about in relation to right now?

Lestat says that "there was a romance" to modern music and I'm so curious if that's how he'll feel about some kind of modern music now, or, whether Lestat’s rock star career will just be 100% about Louis on the TV show?

"the way electricity could stretch a single note forever; the way harmony could be layered upon harmony until you felt yourself dissolving in the sound. So eloquent of dread it was, this music." - This reads to me like a musical description of vampirism?! Will Lestat’s music somehow express something about vampirism? Will The Vampire Lestat's music incorporate old French songs and brutal rhythms - eerie and disjointed music, as Lestat describes his playing?

What music will Lestat listen to? He listens to a lot of Bach when he first rises in the book (while driving his Harley-Davidson!) Is there a security both in the structure of Bach and in the fact his music is from an era predating even mortal Lestat that makes Lestat feel safer entering the modern era?

Will we see Lestat standing stock still beneath a street light, whipping through IWTV at an insane speed till he exasperatedly tears it to shreds on TV!?

Lestat talks about coming back after killing the wolves and feeling that he was ‘not-Lestat’, so I thought we could discuss - did killing the wolves change Lestat, and if so: how?

When Lestat goes into a depression post-killing-the-wolves, is this essentially a human version of “Going into The Earth” as Lestat will do numerous times as a vampire?

How will the French Revolution impact the TV telling?

Will both Mozart and Marie Antoinette be on the TV show?

Will Lestat’s malady of mortality be as big a theme on the TV show as it is in not only The Vampire Lestat, but the entire Vampire Chronicles?

When Lestat talks of how he could have poisoned meat to kill the wolves, but meat was too scarce… is he in a veiled way saying that his life has less value than a piece of meat?

“I don’t think I felt the slightest fear then. But I felt something, and it caused the hair to rise up on the back of my arms.” What exactly is the “something” Lestat feels when he sets out to kill the wolves? And why is he not afraid? Bravery? His hunting spirit? His impulsive, adventurous nature? Stupidity? Naivety? Only feeling truly alive in moments that contain the potential for death? A lack of care whether he lives or dies (borne of despair)?

Reading the wolves section, with the dying animals and even after this too when Lestat talks of his ignored/thwarted farming plans for his family’s land… It made me wonder, just a curious ponder - if Sam might have had any experiences in real life connected to any of this stuff, given his family’s line of work…?

When Augustin says Lestat didn’t kill the wolves, then retracts it & Lestat says the next thing he knew he was lying alone in his room… I mean… it can be read at face value, but I also wonder - is there something that happened here that Lestat doesn’t write? And if so, might the TV show go there?

“I wanted to be enclosed forever with people who believed I could be good if I wanted to be.” - I wonder if the TV show will go down the route of Lestat’s quest for goodness? I hope so! At this time, I think 12-year-old Lestat found goodness in the order of the monastery versus the chaos he felt in the family castle (haha, the family castle!) And I also feel like he felt goodness in being made “ordered” rather than “chaotic” himself. However, I don’t think Lestat would have been happy in the end in so restrictive a place, much as I am sure he would have loved learning. But what do you think? Could Lestat have been happy, a lifetime in the monastery?

Is performing with the theatre troupe at 16 the first time Lestat truly feels pure joy - he describes it as ecstasy?

How can we now get to The Witches’ Place if Nicki can’t have witnessed child-Lestat there, Gabrielle would never tell the story and Lestat has repressed the memory…?

Is Sam’s Lestat going to burst into tears as often as Lestat describes himself doing so, because get him ten thousand gallons of water to drink - he’ll need them!!!! Lestat also cries at the most random moments… but we know Sam is up to the task!

Do you think show-Lestat will be ripped out of post-coital Nicolas’ arms..?

Potential episode titles from this section:

Pure evil has no real place.

Only the impossible can do the impossible.

Malady of mortality.

#interview with the vampire #anne rice #amc interview with the vampire #lestat de lioncourt #the vampire lestat #amc iwtv #iwtv amc #iwtv lestat #Lelio rising #the vampire Lestat speculation #iwtv s3 speculation

26 notes · View notes

yogurtverse · 11 months ago

Text

Fuck it, the Homestuck kids and trolls with JJBA stand abilities

John Egbert: Jesus of Sburbia

Namesake: Green Day song

Jesus of Sburbia allows it's user to create a room around them, then disassemble any non living object into a currency. The stand can then rebuild anything it can either see or remember disassembling at the cost of said currency. It may also store objects inside it that the user might want to use later on.

Rose Lalonde: Nightwish

Namesake: Finnish metal band

Nightwish takes the form of a lovecraftian tentacle monster, and has the power to peer into the minds of it's opponents and scan for their worst fears. It can then shapeshift into the fears and cast grimdark illusions into the opponents mind.

Dave Strider: Deltron

Namesake: Rap Group

Deltron works differently than your average stand master relationship. Instead of the normal "Kill the stand kill the user." rule most stands apply to, if the stand or user is defeated, the remaining one will pull from another timeline (more likely to find doomed Daves anyway) and use their spirit to replace the stand. However, this weakens the user and stand until the merging process is complete.

Jade Harley: Sweet Trip

Namesake: Indie Rock band

Sweet Trip is a combat based stand that mostly focuses on guns. It has the secondary ability to set these guns to teleport objects by firing a bullet somewhere and then shooting a second target, in which case the shot target takes the place of the fired bullet.

Aradia Megido: Tornado of Souls

Namesake: Megadeth song

Tornado of Souls can put people in a sort of sleep paralyses, freezing an opponent in place. During this process, Tornado of Souls can implant memories of deceased people known to the victim and torment them.

Tavros Nitram: Rhapsody

Namesake: Power Metal band

Rhapsody is a rallying stand that allows it's user to enter talks with and recruit any creature to their cause, acting like a translator between the two.

Sollux Captor: Remain in Light

Namesake: Talking Heads album

Remain in Light is a two headed stand that allows it's user to pinpoint two objects to fall under the effects of RiL. Once they are, the stand can both produce powerful beams as well as transfer any feeling from one target to the other. (For example, if Sollux was to punch someone under RiL, the impact of the punch could transfer to the other person, having them feel the impact)

Karkat Vantas: Death Grips

Namesake: Experimental hip-hop group

Death Grips is probably the weakest stand in terms of pure combat potential in the session. However, it's main ability lies in it's ability to infiltrate electronic systems and destroy them, no matter how complex. If a device is turned off while Death Grips is still inside, it will go haywire and destroy the machine beyond repair. If Death Grips is inside a shut down machine for too long, it will start to lose power and die.

Nepeta Leijon: 100 Gecs

Namesake: Hyperpop duo

100 Gecs is a colony stand made up of 100 small catlike creatures. They can be controlled by Nepeta for either attacks with their claws or using them to cover herself or allies for defensive purposes.

Kanaya Maryam: Black Halo

Namesake: Kamelot album

Black Halo allows it's user to remove the light from anything it comes across, storing the light to either illuminate areas or blind others. When a lot of light is collected, BH can fire it in concentrated beams or throw it as a shield

Terezi Pyrope: Follow the Leader

Namesake: Korn album

Follow the Leader forces it's user to follow their own moral code, whatever that may be. If the victim is forced to break their moral code through things like peers and circumstances beyond their control, FtL slowly begins to hurt the victim. If they reject their own morals too much, the pain will kill them.

Vriska Serket: Mind Fuzz

Namesake: King Gizzard and the Wizard Lizard album

Mind Fuzz takes the form of a spidery woman with eight legs. Once one of these legs touches a victim they become temporarily mind controlled and forced to enact Vriska's bidding. Vriska can also shake it's limbs and it will randomly point a leg upwards or downwards. If all eight point upwards (surprisingly more likely than you'd think) Vriska can make a wish to alter the area around her.

Equius Zahark: Powerslave

Namesake: Iron Maiden album

Powerslave allows it's user to drain the strength from their opponent and add it to the stand, while the stand can transfer the gathered strength to either Equius or others around him.

Gamzee Makara: Atrocity Exhibition

Namesake: Danny Brown album

Actrocity Exhibition is a combat stand that can also produce an extremely high frequency noise that drives people into a manic state as well as heightening their senses. The user is not immune from this, often adding to the mania.

Eridan Empora: Headmaster Ritual

Namesake: The Smiths song

Headmaster Ritual works as a science powered stand with full access to the periodic table, being able to change any two elements. This runs the risk of creating extremely volatile changes, so using the stands secondary ability of channeling the elements into objects such as wands or guns is all but nessesary to avoid harm to the user.

Feferi Peixes: Queen of the Stone Age

Namesake: Metal band

Queen of the Stone Age is a wearable stand dedicated to helping the ruler survive any sort of pressure and move along any sort of surface, be it from lava, water, space, etc. Feferi can also extend the stand to anyone she's physically touching.

136 notes · View notes

bestjeanistmonster · 2 months ago

Note

hey I always wandered why do you chose certain characters in roles for your DC au like sonic as Harley Quinn or knuckles as bat man?

also I love your content btw!

usually i just choose what character roles i think would be interesting to explore for that character, or just what would be most fun

like when you think of Sonic in the dc universe you would instantly think ‘ok he would be the flash’, and its true that he would probably make a pretty good flash and a good story could come out of that, or maybe making Amy ‘harley quinn’ and again lots of character stuff you could do with that

But those options kinda just. write themselves tbh, its a bit too easy for me to just choose those options and call it a day cuz just looking at them you’d get their entire deal.

So when im choosing character roles im basically asking myself, not just ‘what sonic character would fit in this dc role the best’ but ‘what would this specific sonic character have to do/go through to become some version of this character’ or ‘what how would this dc role have to be moulded to fit this sonic character’

lets take Shadow for example!

he was the first person i made Shadow would obviously be batman, just looking at him and his backstory he would make an amazing batman, he fits that pretty well no question

but at the time i made Shadow poison ivy, i was reading the the comic series ‘Poison Ivy: The Virtuous Cycle’, it went into detail into Ivy’s hatred for humanity and how they’re destroying the planet, and how she plans to kill all of them off (including herself) in order to save it. It was so interesting to think about her hatred for humanity this way, so interesting that my brain was like ‘wow if when shadow woke up from his cryostasis and learnt all this he’d probably wanna kill humanity even more lol’

then i thought about it more, Poison Ivy cares deeply for the environment and basically wants to kill all humans cuz they’re destroying the planet and giving Shadow that role kinda adds another layer to that because human’s are destroying the world that Maria so desperately wanted to see and he can literally feel the planet dying cuz of that plant connection + the fact that he was created artificially in a lab by humans (plus alien deadbeat) away from the planet and having that intrinsic connection to that planet below the Ark his whole life, a direct connection to the planet that Maria loved so much, a connection that he would’ve never fully known the extent of if GUN hadn’t raided.

So what if wanting to destroy the planet, he wanted to save it and to save it he had eradicated a certain ‘infestation’, humanity.

that was super interesting to me to explore as a concept so Poison Ivy!Shadow, the first character in my dc au was born!!!

it’s important to me that though im making Shadow and Ivy have the same role im not just copypasting Ivy’s backstory onto Shadow, they’re different characters and those backstories aren’t necessarily interchangeable, different things happened to make them who they are and one might not work for the other.

And if i do make the backstory similar, i wanna make changes so i can justify why they made these choices, like with what i did Sonic

Sonic’s dc au backstory follows similar beats as Harley Quinn’s backstory, but i added some details make it more believable for me to understand how Sonic could ever became what Harleen Quinzel became. So i started him out Nicky from the sonic manga, an insecure, weak, nerdy kid that’s easy for people to beat up and pick on, so he’d be someone with vulnerabilities and insecurities. Then i had Tails and Amy be his number 1 protectors cuz he can’t protect himself, his insecurities deepening cuz of this (not only can he not protect himself, he doesn’t even have the strength to protect them), he lived in the worst place in gotham, etc. Basically a lot of stuff that Eggman could use to exploit and manipulate him.

this made it really interesting and fun for me to delve into his mindset and see how he would tick!

then from Sonic’s kidnapping came Tails and Amy’s motivations to become vigilantes, to save their friend, people like their friend and to stop people like the joker from hurting them

other times times i just make the choices based on vibes and what would fit the plot <3

this character exploration and thinking process is why i personally don’t allow ppl to make character suggestions for any of my aus, cuz its really a personal process of picking out roles and dissecting them in my brain

but yh that’s pretty much why i picked who i picked lol

ty for the question!

#sonadow harlivy au #jeanist answers #woahhhh this is long lol

41 notes · View notes

im-not-buying-it-ether · 1 month ago

Note

Hi! Happy birthday to Bat-Swap!!!🥳🥳🥳

I was wondering if there were any deleted scenes/concepts that didn't make it into the final fic? Or a character you wanted to add but didn't get the chance to?

Love your writing! Might have to go reread for the fic's birthday!

The muse, the Michelangelo, the WOLF!!

Oh god so many, I thought this fic up with the ending coming like a week later and so much came up in between that got scrapped into the Outtake Doc for any later use.

I have a list of my minds bullcrap, hold up, gotta dig through the receipts

In absolutely no particular order-

Back when we met Pinky I planned to reveal the whole Vasquez extended Marvel family through a statue for each Marvel at the park, one basically guarding each path that all branched out of the center area Billy’s was at. By then I had already made plans to make the Sins and maybe Blaze a looming Big Bad so I had a concept of the statues having their own importance sometime in the final confrontation I have planned (bc we gotta have one, I love comics and comic are all about that big payoff fight) but that got scrapped for the longer buildup and the timeline I refined to make them heroes for too short a time to get such big memorials

One more overarching idea was to make the Batfam more hostile to Cap, not liking the situation as much as he wasn’t and not getting along well. I wanted to start off with a lighter note so I changed peoples tune

Was going to have a moment of some Batfam like Tim and Steph (who were involved with YJ) asking about Freddy and wanting to catch up with him, with the allusion to the Marvels being more tight knit with Billy seeming like the exception given how much he seems to travel more than his siblings.

One scrapped scene that might make a comeback with some editing is Bruce as Cap joining Pinky on a pre-planned stake out/take down, with more than a couple of playful jabs that “Look at us! The redder versions of you and Krypto-boy!” Plus some more Pinky love bc that kid was insane (like every Fawcett character honestly)

Actually cut the Katabasis chapter down; had an outline and some paragraphs done of Tim destroying SBP and getting a whack at him with a lot of unhealthy pent up issues that I doubt fully got resolved after the Everything™️ that was The Teen Years Of Tim Drake

Dick was supposed to have a scene visiting Damian in the hospital first but plans very obviously changed and I added a Dick & Billy focused bonding-ish chapter

Two things with Lucy’s reveal actually, was gonna have her book be a redo of the old Owlman and Pulchinella characters from Harley’s failed romance novel now turned turned adventure novel but changed it to basically be personally made story of a Lucy like sidekick to Capitano (Billy). More endearing to me to have Harley making books like she always wanted to that are aimed for her daughter’s wild imagination and Billy helping in recommending them. Also was going to have Lucy jokingly call Bruce-as-Billy “Batsy” as a riff on Billy’s last name and Bruce in his stupidly big brain for everything criminal put some pieces together about how she said that name and the kind of smile+laugh she’s got but have no chance to say anything before the doors shut. Just to fuck with him more

Was going to have Kit and Jason have a chat when Jason first woke up, with Kit realizing who the guy he scared unconscious was and adding my long desired “Oh this ghost is a kid I accidentally avenged by murdering a guy.” Moment. Will never forget that Jason killed Captain Nazi, top tier stuff to mess with

I had another small villain confrontation idea in Mr. Banjo Jr leading a crime spree parade, even had lyrics for him to sing about sticking it to the man I even named (bc I am insane at all times) “Rebel souls unfold” to work in more of a Music Miester-y way in leading the brainwashed Fawcettizens in attacking Bruce-as-Billy, all with lyrics of Banjo Jr hyping himself up and making it sound like a revolt against heroes. Honestly a lot of fun thinking up but it never got to the writing stage for a scene and I don’t know where I’d put it now that things are getting serious. I’ll probably post it when I have a full list of scraped concepts when this monster of a fic is finally over, haha

(Wow, I just switched to numbers instead of dots here, Holy moley)

There are a lot of scrapped ideas I feel confident in including later and other ones I want to foam at the mouth about with everyone but are all spoilers so aaaAAHHH but I continue on! Honestly, blame my brain for having so many ideas and only ever writing in flow of thought for this mess of brain matter in my cranium. Ugh

#Batswap #bat-swap #asks #ask me anything #ask #scrapped ideas #fic inspo #fanfic inspo #batman #shazam #billy batson #dc

22 notes · View notes

gh0stly-pages · 7 days ago

Text

Out of Our Minds (Part 5)

Ledger!Joker x Harley Quinn-esque f!reader (18+)

CW: violence by gunfire and gas, implied deaths/fatal injuries

Words: 5.8k

Chapter Summary: After a long night of plans, you're ready to break your patient out of Arkham Asylum

previous part: part 4

Notes: Welcome back! sorry for the long wait, life has been pretty busy but here's the next part! Things are really cooking up in this one. Just wanna preface that in this series you are NOT a good guy, you're turning into a villain like Joker, so there will be lots of violence and so if you're uncomfortable with that stuff I advise you not to keep reading! I won't be getting graphic though (and I really hope that I don't have to be the one to remind you that in real life, murder bad) Also this whole chapter includes a plot for breaking out of Arkham that is very farfetched but we're gonna pretend like it makes sense, okay? okay. Enjoy!

Arkham is cloaked in shadows.

The patients are forced into these shadows, pushed there by people desperate to remain in the light. They want to be the light. To show themselves as all things good and pure. They walk around with their chins held high and their shoulders back, clucking like birds. They are bright. Intelligent. Classy. Or so they want to be seen as. What lurks beneath is all darkness.

These people avoided the shadows, and thank goodness for that.

As you lurked in the shadows, preparing for the madness to come, you couldn’t help but smile.

_________________________________________

Your heart is pounding as you approach the two guards outside of Joker’s cell. You’ve managed to move his session to be the last one of the day, and the anticipation has been killing you.

You don’t know how you got here. You don’t mean literally, you know how you got there, walking with shaking legs through security, scared that somehow they would see it in your face. That you were hiding something. They didn’t even question you, waving you along while looking bored. After that, you realized they couldn’t read you at all. They simply didn’t care. So now, you hold yourself with confidence, hoping everything goes just the way you planned.

But getting here, being Joker’s accomplice, that you were still figuring out.

“Hello boys,” you say to the guards, even though they’ve seen you enough times to know the drill. They hand you the little remote, enter the code, and the door unlocks. Not a single word exchanged. You give them your best bitchy smile before walking through the doors. “Thanks.”

There Joker is, his face paint still intact, though smudged. You let out a deep sigh of relief, and while the door closes behind you, you take your seat, not exactly sure where to start. “Mr. J,” is all you can manage to get out.

Joker leans forward, dark eyes glinting. “Yes, sweets?”

You take a deep breath. “Are you ready to break out of Arkham?”

The smile on his face is like none other you’ve ever seen from him. It’s giddy, it’s dangerous, it’s thrilling. God, you love it. “Doll, that, ah, might just be one of the best things I’ve ever heard you say.”

It took you all night to think up a plan, with the little time you had. You knew you had to take advantage of just how little people cared for you, finally it was serving as a positive. You’d racked your brain, setting up a giant piece of paper on your wall and drawing out the layout of Arkham. You’d marked where the guards would be, how they’d move, the security cameras and alarms scattered around the building. It had all looked like a mess at first. A puzzle you wouldn’t be able to put together. Yet the more you thought about it, the more you realized you were thinking too much about how to perfectly escape and not how to rely on your own strengths. Not only could you fly under the radar, but you were light on your feet, had learned a few tips from Joker on weaponry, and the only people who (mostly) respected you in Arkham were your patients.

You’d not gotten any sleep but it was worth it as you pieced everything together. The main part of your plan did not necessarily involve high level theatrics like J, but Arkham was in for one hell of a ride.

Reaching up into your hair, you pull out a hair pin, reaching over and grabbing Joker’s wrist. “Here’s what we’re gonna do,” you say, starting on attempting to unlock the cuffs. Joker’s lesson was somehow still fresh in your mind but it wasn’t an easy task. “I’m going to press the button on my remote that will alert the two guards outside the door to come in. We’ll be standing on either side of the door, and we’ll need to take them both out.” To your surprise, the handcuffs unlock with a small click, and you beam as the cuffs fall away.

Joker lifts his hand, moving his wrist, which is partially bruised from the cuffs. “And what about the other layers of security?”

“There’s two layers of security. That was the tricky part, but I’ve talked to a few of my patients and they’ve agreed to… start a ruckus as a distraction. As long as most guards are occupied with the patients, the ones out there won’t have backup. We can knock them out easily.”

He smacks his mouth. “It all sounds too easy.”

You move to his other wrist, pushing the hair pin into the cuff. “I know, but it’s not gonna be easy. Things are going to go wrong but we’ve gotta try.” Again, with a bit of a struggle, the cuffs pull open with a satisfying click. You look down at his ankles, grateful that it seems he hasn’t been cuffed there. “You’re free.”

He stands up, stretching himself out, and you watch with earnestness as he groans and cracks his knuckles. “Not just yet, dolly. Got that remote handy?”

You grab the remote from your purse before tossing the purse to the side. You won’t be needing that anymore. “Got it.” As you stare down at the remote, everything hits you way too fast, like a mallet to the chest. Your breathing falters, your heartbeat speeding up with a rapid bump bump bump-. It’s not that you’re scared, not necessarily, but you’re scared that you’ll fail both you and Joker. You’re not J. You don’t know how to do this shit. “I…”

Everything goes blurry and it takes you a second to realize Joker has moved in front of you. He places his hands on your shoulders, bending slightly to look you right in the eye. “You’ve got a sharp mind, dolly. I, ah, know you wouldn’t fail,” he says, an odd reassurance but it works, and you can feel your breathing go a bit steadier. Then you realize how close the Joker is. He’s touching you, no cuffs, no table between you, no barriers. He’s right in front of you, all of him. “We’re getting out of here.”

“Right,” you mumble, straightening yourself. Much to your disappointment, he drops his hands from you, moving towards the door. You suppose it’s now or never. With a shaky breath, you follow after him, moving to the opposite side of the door. Now, the both of you stand on either side, prepared for whatever comes your way. “Ready?” you ask him.

He nods. “Ready, Doc.”

You press the green button.

The both of you press your backs to the wall as you hear the door click open. It’s far too early into the session for you to be leaving, so the guards must know something is wrong. The first guard walks in, the door swinging open so that it blocks the view of J, while you hold your breath to keep quiet. The guard doesn’t notice you, and his mouth drops open as he sees the table empty. He draws his gun, holding it out. “What the fu-“

Springing into action, Joker grabs the guard from behind, picking him up and throwing him across the room. The guard screams, his gun flying away from him as he hits the floor. In one quick swoop, Joker grabs the gun off the floor and jams the butt of it into the guard’s head, just as the other guard runs inside the room, already firing shots. J made it look so easy, but this other guy is your problem. Filled with a sudden adrenaline, you come up behind him, kicking him forward. You’re not the strongest, so he only stumbles, immediately whipping around to try and shoot you. Combat certainly isn’t your strong suit, not yet, but you can move exceptionally well. You sidestep him as he tries to ram the gun into your stomach, and you opt to knee him in the groin. He groans and tries to shoot you again, and you squeal as the bullets pierce the walls. Thank god the room is soundproof otherwise the guards outside would have come running in. From the corner of your eye, you catch Joker watching you. He’s holding the gun. He could shoot the guy easily but he doesn’t. He wants you to take the guard down.

“Bitch,” the guard mutters, opting to try and throw himself on top of you just for you to dodge him again, lifting your leg and giving him a good knock to the ribs. He cries out, and as he tilts to the side, you give him a good punch to the temple. With a sick pleasure, you watch as he collapses to the floor, eyes wide open, barely breathing. Quickly, you grab his gun, not wanting to take any chances.

You look up at Joker, who’s smiling as he watches you catch your breath, gripping the gun in your hand. “Impressive, doll. Though, ah, you definitely need to work on your skills.”

“You’re the one who gave me a night to think of this,” you grumble, and he chuckles. “Wasn’t exactly able to take a defense class.”

“I’ll teach ya.”

Suddenly, the room begins to glow red, sirens blaring that make your bones vibrate. You look at him in panic, he looks at you with excitement. Clearly, you both have very different definitions of fun. The sirens aren’t for you though, the Arkham security team doesn’t like to cause commotion for just a single patient causing mayhem. The patients must have started a ruckus, whether it be a riot or starting a fight with one another, you hadn’t gone into the details. You just told them to be distracting.

You tilt your head towards the door. “Coming?”

“You go first, doll.”

You move ahead, prying the door open. Two more guards stand in the room, talking in hushed whispers beneath the blare of the siren. They don’t even notice you as you hold out the gun, firing into one guard’s shoulder and immediately spinning and shooting the other one in the hand. The guard whose hand you shot drops to the floor, their gun hitting the ground alongside them, and you quickly move forward and kick it. But as you kick the gun, a bullet flies out in front of you, nearly grazing your nose, and you spin around, the guard who you shot on the shoulder aiming his gun right at you. Fuck. You tense as his finger moves to pull the trigger again but before he can move any farther a bullet digs into his side and then one into his chest and he goes limp.

You turn to see Joker huffing with the gun in his hand still smoking. “Doll, you’ve got a lot to learn. You’re not even-“ He turns and shoots the other guard in the chest “-getting in good shots. You’re leaving yourself vulnerable. Gotta make sure you get em’ where they can’t shoot back.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, suddenly feeling embarrassed. You didn’t expect to be this unprepared.

Seeing your expression, Joker falters a bit. “No apologies. I’ve told you, it, uh, doesn’t mean anything to me. It’s just a word.” He comes up to you and nudges you with his shoulder. “C’mon. Last room of guards before we have to run, right?”

“Right.”

“Well then,” he says, pointing to the door with his gun. “You first.”

This time, you don’t want to screw things up. You put the gun behind your back, pulling the door open with your other hand and entering the final room. This room has a security camera in the corner, so you don’t want to go in all guns blazing. You have an idea, and with the gun, gesture for Joker to stay hidden. You hope that’s what your gun waving conveys anyways. Three guards turn to look at you, the ones that greeted you when you first came in, two men and a woman. They’re all masked but you can make out the slight outline of their face beneath the face shield.

The woman runs forward, no gun drawn, leaving it still hanging at her hip. “Miss l/n, what happened?” She tries to crane her neck to see behind you but you’ve inched the door closed enough so she can’t see too much on the other side. “What happened with the nutbag? Are the guards attending to him?”

You nod rapidly, trying to look like you’re startled. Your acting skills might need some touching up, another thing to work on. “Yes, I- I just wasn’t feeling very comfortable… Felt like I needed to get out of there.”

The woman snorts. “Alright, ma’am. Well, is there anything you need from us? Some other whackos are causing a disturbance.”

“Yes, I, um-“ You pull out your gun. “I need you to step aside and let us through.” You slam the barrel into her stomach, sending her flying backwards, and in one fluid motion you shoot the security camera in the corner and then train your gun on one of the other guards. You can sense Joker step out from behind you, shooting the other guard before he can even lift his own gun. The guard you’ve trained your gun on aims his gun right back at you. “You’re gonna let us go, ain’tcha?” you say, trying to keep your voice from shaking. You have to remain confident. “Or else this bullet is going in your head, right, Mr. J?” you say, looking at Joker. If you’re gonna be a villain to these people, might as well play the part.

Joker nods, mimicking your stance and pointing his gun at the guard. “Whaddya say, doll, what should we do if he, uh, refuses to listen?”

You tighten your finger on the trigger. “I can think of a few things.”

The guard drops his gun, raising his hands in surrender. It sends warmth through your chest. Even if it's sickly satisfying. You feel proud. “Okay, okay,” he blubbers, looking between them both. “Please just don’t kill me, I’ll let you go, please.”

Joker giggles. “How generous, you know, normally I’d use you to get out of this place but I don’t think we need the extra weight.” Joker shoots the man in his left hand, bam, then once in the other, bam. “Looks like you won’t be able to do much! Buh-bye!” The man faints immediately.

Seeing Joker at work, this sinister side of him you’ve only seen on the screen, makes you shiver, and your grip on the gun only tightens, knuckles going white. “The uniform. Take his uniform.”

Joker pouts at you. “Aw, it ain’t even my color.”

“J,” you warn.

“Kiddingggg, doll. Why so serious?” Grabbing the man, Joker strips him of his uniform roughly, getting each piece off before stripping out of his own clothes. Your cheeks turn pink and it all happens so fast before you can even think to turn your head and give him privacy. He pulls his shirt up over his head, chest in full display. The first thing that catches your eyes are all the scars and bruises littering his stomach, pink and jagged, scars you want to trace beneath your fingertips. He’s surprisingly toned, just like his arms. Not muscular exactly, but strong looking. Before you can get a better look, he pulls on the guard’s black undershirt, then fastens on the bulletproof vest. When he catches you staring, he grins. “Enjoying the show?”

You turn your head as he kicks off his pants, though you can still see him in your peripheral, throwing on the black cargo pants the guard had donned. “No,” you lie.

“And, are you, uh, gonna be gracing us with a costume change as well?”

You bite back a smile. “No.”

“Pity.”

When he’s finally done, you turn around just as he puts on the helmet. You don’t like that it’s hiding his face from you but you can still see his scarred smile if you look hard enough. “Lookin’ good, soldier,” you tease, saluting him.

His lips twist into a smirk. “Lucky I like givin’ orders. Let’s move.”

“Okay, J, for this part, you’ve gotta follow me. I’ll run up ahead and lead you down to where we need to go, you gotta take out anyone you can. Got it?”

“Let’s see if we die or not, shall we?”

“You could try and be positive .”

You open the door, poking your head out to look around, and shit, it’s chaos out there, guards running back and forth, clearly busy with whatever the patients started. You can hear screams, banging, and laughter beneath the sound of the still screeching sirens. The place still glows a flashing red. You point to the right, down a long hallway. “This way!” you shout, running towards a set of doors at the every end of the hall. Arkham is a bit of a labyrinth but you know it well. Down that hallway leads to another hall which leads to more doors which then, finally, leads to the staff wing of Arkham. It’s where the back exit/entrance is. And also where you’ve parked your getaway vehicle.

You don’t wait for Joker, but you can hear his steps behind you, the combat boots he stole pounding on the floor. Nobody seems to notice either of you at first, or they’re too busy to even give it any mind. You know eventually someone will run past Joker’s conference room and realize he’s not inside. His room empty. All traces of him gone. But you hope you’ve bought at least a bit of time.

As you run, more guards run past you, and you’re nearly knocked off course as one bumps your shoulder. You keep steady on your feet though. Thank goodness for all those gymnastics lessons. The only time you glance over your shoulder is to make sure Joker is behind you before you push through the doors. Once you see him in all his suited up glory, you carry on through the doors, Joker just a step behind. “To the right again,” you yell. There’s less guards down here, but that means even more likely you’ll be caught. Already, you can see them turn to you, wondering what the hell you’re doing running off with one of the guards close behind. As the two of you run, one of the guards turns their attention to you. “Hey! What are you two doing?” the guard barks, running up in front of you. “The lady has a gun!”

You could probably give them an excuse that you’re running away from the danger but you feel too angry. “Running to safety, dumbass!” you say, using the gun like a hammer and hitting them on the head like a game of whack-a-mole. That was a hell of a lot more fun than shooting a gun. As the guard crumples to the floor, at least five other guards take notice, and you have to quickly jump over the guard’s unmoving body to run as fast as you can through the doors. You can hear gunshots explode all around you, it’s like a miracle you’re not hit, and you can tell which gunshots come from the guards and which from J. But before you know it, every single one of them falls flat on the floor. “Nice one, J,” you say, and he cuts up ahead of you, opening the door for you.

“Ladies first,” he says.

“So gentlemanly.” You shoot out ahead of him. Now you’re in the staff hallway, lined with doors which leads to locker rooms and places to conduct meetings. At the very end of the hall is the exit. You’d be jumping for joy if it wasn’t for the fact that any second more guards would be chasing after you.

You grab his arm, pulling him down the hall, running faster than you ever have in your entire life. “Exit this way!” you scream through the chaos, heading into the “staff only” area of the building. Looming ahead of you, just down the hall of rooms and lockers, is the staff exit, leading to the back end of Arkham. You look over to Joker. “You ready?”

Joker moves his arm away from you, instead grabbing onto your hand with his own free one. “As I’ll ever be.”

The two of you barrel down the hall, practically slamming into the exit doors, desperately tugging them open. There doesn’t seem to be many people around except for a few guards lining the outside, and Joker moves to take care of them as you yank him towards your car. Well, your stolen car. You weren’t gonna risk coming in your own vehicle. “Here,” you say, pointing to a black car in front of you. Letting go of J’s hand, you stuff yourself into the driver's seat, and Joker shoots at another guard before cramming himself into the passenger seat. “Drive,” he yells, and you grab the keys from your pocket, turn them in the key hole, and slam on the pedal. He throws off his mask, tossing it in the back seat. “Faster!”

As you get to driving, you remember the final bits of your plan. The part you’re most proud of. “Hey, J, wanna hear what other distraction I planned?” you yell over the roar of the engine, as you swerve around the parking lot.

“Whaddisit?”

“Gas! The same kind they might have used on you. Rigged it all up on my own. The patients should be all rounded up in their cells by now and the guards? They’re getting knocked out cold!”

You have to focus, but you turn towards Joker, your heart swelling in your chest when he looks impressed. His eyes are wide as he pulls down the window and looks back at Arkham as you pump it straight out of the parking lot, taking down the small security gate. In your rear view mirror, you can see green explosions of gas within the windows. If all worked well, only the guards should be getting knocked out about now, leaving no one to come after you. Police will be on their way, but that at least gives you a bit more time and them a distraction. Plus, they aren’t sure what they’re looking for, no clue what car or who helped Joker escape, not until they can wake the guards.

Now, you realize, you can’t just go back to your apartment. It’s too risky. You look at J as you slow the car, trying to blend in with the rest of Gotham traffic. You failed to plan this far. “J, I don’t know where to go now.”

“I do,” he says, leaning over, making sure not to put too much weight on you or crush you as he takes hold of the wheel. “Just pump the gas, doll, I’ll get us somewhere safe.”

It sounds like a horrible idea, but you nod. You’d make it work. “Okay,” you say, and as the light turns green, you hit the gas. It’s scary as hell just controlling the gas, letting Joker swerve you both around, but you trust him. Ha, funny. You trust the Joker. He drives you towards the outer parts of Gotham, and as you enter a rather dingy residential street, he moves the car off the road. “Park it here,” he says, and you obey, pressing the brake and shifting the car into park.

“Why here?”

“I’ve got a spot around here.”

“You have an apartment?”

He snorts. “No, I’ve got a, uh, hideout spot in one of the abandoned warehouses at the outskirts of Gotham. And it wouldn’t be very wise to park right outside the entrance.”

Smart, you hadn’t thought of that. Clearly you lack experience in this realm. You grab the keys and throw open the door, Joker doing the same, and the two of you begin walking on the sidewalk, Joker taking the lead. Darkness has already set over the city, and the two of you walk beneath the light of dim street lamps. It’s cold out, and your white coat isn’t exactly meant to keep you warm, so you hug yourself to try and keep away the chill. “Is it very far?” you ask, and you realize this is the first quiet time you both have had together since escaping. You’ve been too anxious over escaping to even think about everything that’s happened. To think of how the Joker is right next to you, taking you to one of his many hideaways.

Joker shakes his head. “Not too far, doll.”

Silence settles upon you both, the two of you far too preoccupied with getting to the warehouse to say much of anything else.

As you walk, the blare of sirens starts up in the distance, and when you turn behind you, you can see police lights in the distance. You’re positive they’re not for you, not yet, but if they even caught a glimpse of the Joker, the two of you would be over. Joker knew this too, clearly, grabbing your arm and picking up his pace, practically dragging you as he began to run. Everything is a blur as the two of you fly through the streets. Even though you’re not bad at running, after a few twists and turns, your legs start to hurt, your chest feeling heavy. But Joker doesn’t stop, probably used to running from lord knows what. Before you can register anything, you’re climbing over gates and Joker pushes open the large doors of the abandoned warehouse, pulling you in and up a crumbling flight of stairs until you reach the second floor.

Finally, Joker and you stop moving, taking time to catch your breath. Fuck, everything hurts.

You gasp, throwing yourself against the concrete wall of the warehouse, sliding down until your butt hits the floor. Your chest moves rapidly up and down as you try to catch your breath. Joker crouches in front of you. “Breathe, just breathe, good girl.” He holds out his arms. “C’mere.”

Immediately, you lean forward and throw your arms around him, going limp. He stands up, taking you with him, your legs dragging lifelessly on the floor until only the tips of your toes touch the concrete. You bury your face into his shoulder, and for a second everything feels right. Finally, a quiet moment, and everything crashes down on you, every decision you’ve made. It takes a second for you to process that you’re hugging the Joker, and he’s letting you hug him back. This man, this villain you’d become infatuated with, was holding you close. You’ve imagined something like this before, even when you didn’t want to, but this is better than any of that. “We did it,” you mumble into his guard shirt, which smells like rust and gunsmoke. “We escaped.”

“You did it,” he says, and when you finally pull back to look at him, he’s smiling at you. He gently settles you back on to the floor. “They’re going to come looking for us though. We’ll need to lay low for the moment.”

“In here?” It’s strange to be so close, your arms still wrapped around his neck. “This where you usually stay?”

“I stay all over.”

“Very spacious,” you say, moving your head to look around. “Where do you sleep though? On the hard floor?”

“Chaos doesn’t sleep, darling.”

“No, but people sure do.” You tug gently on one of his locks of hair and he growls. “You need sleep.”

“Can’t sleep now. Not when we’re being pursued.” He wrinkles his nose. “This your first time being a wanted criminal?”

“Duh.”

“I really can’t believe you did it, doll. Made up a whole plan and everything and got me out of Arkham.” Much to your dismay, he moves away from you, walking to some other part of the building. You hesitantly follow after him. “We can camp out here for the night but then we’ll have to move.” In a secluded corner of the room, a moth-eaten curtain hangs from the ceiling, concealing that whole part of the room. Joker takes the curtain in his hand, then looks at you. “Course, we can’t exactly fend for ourselves without weapons, can we?”

Yanking back the curtain, on the other side is a wall full of all sorts of weapons. Guns, knives, even TNT. There’s crates full of clothes, Joker’s clothes, you assume. Some clown masks. All sorts of tools for mischief. You look at it all like a child in a candy store. “J, this is amazing. Isn’t it kind of risky keeping it locked up in here though?”

“I’ve got some goons guarding it. And nobody in Gotham comes in here anymore, I’ve made sure of it.” He shrugs. “If anyone were to find it, let em’ take it, I’d just get duplicates and use them all on the thief.”

You move forward to get a better look at everything as Joker drifts behind you. It should be scary just how much violence is here at his fingertips but know it just makes you swell inside.

“So, how about it, doll? Pick your poison,” Joker says, holding your shoulders from behind. You look over all your options. The guns weren’t exactly your style, you were better at hitting people with them than you were at shooting them. The blades looked nice, and you’d like to learn to use them, but they could only do so much. Something that did catch your eye, sticking out from the other weapons, was a mallet in the corner. It was a tad comically large, definitely not the regular kind you’d see on a construction site. You move forward, Joker moving with you, and grab the handle.

“Whaddya have this one for?” you ask.

“Uhhhh, to kill people with?”

You glare at his snarky response, though you’re still smiling. “I figured that much. Where’d you get it from though?”

“Amusement Mile.” The old, abandoned theme park towards the other end of Gotham. It’s been shut down ever since you were a child, but you remember your parents driving past it. Seeing a place that must have been so exciting and colorful look so dark and decrepit was chilling. “Found it at one of those old high striker games. Adjusted it a bit.”

Lifting it, you test the weight. It’s definitely heavy, but the weight is distributed evenly, making it easy to maneuver. You give it a quick swing, the whoosh of the mallet like music to your ears. This was what you needed. Sturdy, not too hard to wield, and perfect to pair with your swiftness. “I want this one.”

“Gonna play a game of whack-a-bat with that one?” He maneuvers in front of you, grabbing the handle of the mallet before you could give it another swing. “You can take that one. But you need a gun too. The mallets they’re, uh, too big to get around places sometimes.”

You look back at the wall and point at a small silver gun. “I’ll take that one too.”

He grins. “Are you sure you’re, ah, ready to cause some damage?”

You drop the mallet. “I’ve been ready.” All your life you’ve been pushed to the side. No, pushed to the ground. You were ready to hurt some people back. To make skyscrapers crumble and leaders fall. This anger inside you boils, and you can feel your grip tighten on the handle, envisioning every person who has wronged you.

Joker’s laugh pulls you back to reality, stepping up closer in front of you. “Calm down there, lovely. They call me the Harlequin of Hate but I think that title better suits you,” he says, cupping your chin. “My little Harlequin, partner to the Clown Prince of Crime.”

————————-

That night, you’re stuck sleeping on a mattress on the floor.

You flop down on your back, the mattress not the comfiest thing you’ve ever slept on but it works. There’s no blanket, so no way of keeping warm, and you try and shift around to find a comfortable position. Joker sits on the edge of the mattress, his knees tucked up to his chest, and it’s such an odd sight to see him so regular that you laugh. His head jerks to look at you. “Admirin’ the view?”

“Maybe,” you say, smiling as you lay on your side. “It’s just weird to see you here. Not in Arkham or fighting B-Man.”

He hums. “It ain’t everyday I bring people around ere’. At least, not like this.”

“Lucky me, huh?”

“You realize you’re in this forever now, right? There’s, uh, no goin’ back from here.”

The weight of it settles on you. “I know... I wouldn’t have gone along if I didn’t know that.”

“Well, if you wanted to go, you could go now. You could walk free, tell the cops I threatened you and made you do all this.” He looks down at his feet. “I, ah, won’t stop you.”

You’re surprised to find your eyes watering. Joker, this menace, a force to be reckoned with, was giving you the option to leave. He could be fooling you, of course, but you could tell from the way the words escaped him awkwardly, uncomfortably tender, that he meant every bit of it. He’d let you go, you could continue your regular life, maybe find a better job. But that wasn’t the point of why you freed him. You wanted to escape too, to show Gotham how corrupt it was, and you wouldn’t do that without J. “I’m not walking away,” you say back.

“You’re insane, ya know that?”

“I know.” You stare at one another in silence. Finally, you yawn. “Are you… are you gonna come to bed?” You’re not sure exactly what’s going on between you and Joker. You like him, you know that much, but how much exactly does he like you? Enough to keep you around, obviously. But to what extent did he want you around? Did he want not just your loyalty but also your affections? You were ready to give affection, but was he?

Joker shakes his head, and you feel yourself grow disappointed. “You go on, doll. I, uh, gotta keep watch.”

“Mr. J-“

“I like it when you call me that.”

“-You’ve gotta get some sleep. You’re gonna pass out without it.”

“I’ll be fine,” he grumbles. “Don’t ya get your pretty little head worried over it.”

“You’re an ass.”

Your anger only makes him smile. “If you’re so, ah, worried, then just wake up early and I’ll drift off for a bit.”

“Then that’s exactly what I’ll do,” you say, flipping over, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing you ticked off. You’re not actually upset, you just wished Joker prioritized himself a bit more. That was something to deal with another day. “Goodnight, J.”

“Night, darlin’.”

That night you dream of Gotham in flames. You dream of chaos. You dream of him.

Taglist:

Taglist: @lightsabergirl / @knoepfl / @jeffswh0re / @itsmrshamilton / @heath-ledger-jokers-wife / @lolwey / @ilovetoomanymen / @amazingzou/ @ronniesweetkisser / @emberhatesthemoon

lmk if you'd like to be added to the taglist!

#dark knight #dark knight joker #dark knight joker x reader #heath ledger joker #heath ledger joker x reader #joker x reader #ledger joker x reader #dark knight fanfic #dc joker

38 notes · View notes