#i love gotham but harley baby they did you so dirty

[how-masterful]

My controversial gotham take is I absolutely despise ecco and was so happy she was killed off. I also 100% think gotham could have done something much more interesting than what they did with ecco being a fake harley that only leant into the crazy girlfriend/supporter side. Perhaps the real Harleen being a student studying the effects of the Valeska brothers and the cult of Jerome for her thesis, maybe we see her do a few intern slots at arkham, perhaps she interacts with Gordon and helps a case- and in the final episode instead whatever the hell they did with jeremiah there, we see her finally sit down in arkham for her first therapy session with him like in Mad love.

[soulmate-game]

This is an alternate ending for my Bio!dad Joker / Bio!mom Harley AU. Or really, the timeline itself will be entirely different starting from the moment that Marinette’s plane lands in Gotham. If you haven’t read the original, you can do so here.

—*—*—*—*—*

“He’s going to find out, Mom.”

“No he won’t, don’t be silly! I’ve been very careful about hiding you from him, Nettie-pie.”

“Mom… I just have a bad feeling. I don’t think we can hide who I am from him. If he sees me, I think he’ll know.”

The phone went silent.

“If he hurts you, I’ll kill him. If I was crazy about him, Sugar, then I’m head over heels for you. Not even he can stop me from caving his skull in if he tries his usual tricks with you.”

“... My plane leaves soon, I’ll talk to you when I land. And mom?”

“Yeah, honeycake?”

“I love you.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Marinette often hated how accurate her intuition tended to be. She had barely even stepped out of the airport before she had felt the prick of a needle in her neck and the sensation of being shoved into a small, dark space before her vision cut out.

Looks like her mom wasn’t able to hide her existence away as well as they thought.

And unfortunately for Marinette, her darling asshole of a father had apparently had ample time to plan his first meeting with her. If he had just used the much easier to acquire Chloroform on her, then Marinette likely would have woken up early enough to come up with a plan. Chloroform was unreliable and wore off fairly easily. But no, he had actually had the time to steal hospital grade anesthetic.

Which meant that Marinette woke up with her wrists zip-tied to heavy links of chain above her head, and her ankles connected to the chain below her with what felt like ten layers of duct tape.

Lovely.

“Ah, there she is! Good morning, sleepyhead!” Those were the high-pitched, dramatic words she heard when she came back to consciousness. She didn’t even need to open her eyes to know who the speaker was— she had watched enough videos online and not-so-legally obtained Asylum and Prison footage to immediately recognize the speech patterns and tone that was echoing around her.

Apparently keeping her eyes closed was not allowed, because it was only a few seconds later that Marinette felt a harsh slap sting her cheek and whip her face to the side. Oh, that would become a bruise without a doubt. Her teeth betrayed her, cutting into the inside of her mouth with the force of the hit. So, when Marinette opened her eyes to glare at the sperm donor responsible for half of her DNA, she aimed her bloody spit right at him. It landed on his shoe, which only a few seconds later slammed into her gut.

Marinette gasped for air even as the chain she was on swung violently, making her dizzy and upsetting her stomach. Too bad she didn’t have anything in there to throw up on him, she thought angrily. The chain links rattled loudly, ringing in her head alongside the electric pain of both of her newly forming bruises.

“Honestly, is that any way to treat your dear ol’ Daddy?” Joker cooed with false offense, one hand over his heart. Marinette glared at him as best as she could as she continued to sway in the open air, the chain she was tied to being the only thing keeping her from plunging straight down into a vat of sickly green, bubbling liquid.

Marinette didn’t need to be told what that liquid was. And joker knew that, the moment he saw her look down at that vat and saw the realization almost immediately cross her face. So instead of explaining, he laughed. Loud, high, and deranged.

“Good, good! That idiot Harley kept you educated, at least,” he said between psychotic chuckles. “Ah yes, and she somehow managed to choose the perfect name,” he glided over to her, as if he was some ethereal demon of chaos instead of a human. His paper-white hand reached out, grabbing her chin in a crushing grip and turning her face this way and that. Inspecting her as if she was a piece of china and not a living being. “So easy to adjust. Right now, you’re Marinette. Just like how, all those years ago, your mother stood here as Harleen. But just as she was dunked into acid and became my harlequin,” he stepped back and grabbed Marinette’s shoulders. He spun her like a top, making the metal chain creak and clink as it wound into a few weak coils and then released back out, trying to go straight again. It sent Marinette twirling through the air in a horrid half-spin, one-eighty degrees one way before sharply spinning to the other side. Joker laughed.

“Just like that, you’re gonna go from boring old Marinette,” he stuck out his tongue like a child, as if the mere taste of her name was bitter. “And you’ll be reborn as my new little Marionette. Aren’t you excited?!”

“Fuck you,” Marinette spat, even as she tried to blink and return her vision to normal. She was far too disoriented to even come up with a plan— but she was still coherent enough to register that the sky was dark outside the high windows of the factory she was apparently in. She had been missing for a few hours then, which meant that her mom and Momma Ivy would have called for help a long time ago. Maybe if she just stalled long enough, it would get there in time. “I’m not a puppet. Not for you, not for anybody!” She snarled.

Joker rolled his eyes, but his smile still widened. “Oh, that’s what they all say. In fact, your mother put up a good resistance there for a while, but her inner chaos couldn’t resist me. You’ll bend even easier, I have no doubt,” her ran his hand along her cheek in a motion that was so gentle that it felt foreign, wrong, to her coming from him. She knew what he was doing. He was trying to whiplash her, take all her hope away before dangling the option he wanted her to choose in front of her like a carrot on a stick.

Too bad he didn’t know her at all. She cringed away from his gentle touch, revolted by the mere feel of his skin on her’s.

“And your accent is a nice touch,” he cooed as if her reaction didn’t bother him at all. It probably didn’t. “Exotic. Just the thing I need to freshen up my usual act a bit, the Boston twang my old Harlequins had is just… stale by now, don’t you agree?”

Marinette clenched her jaw at the reminder that he had tried to pass off a cheap look-alike as her mom when she disappeared, back when she was pregnant with Marinette, to hide her baby from Joker. How he had discarded that woman like trash when Harley went back to him, only to replace her again when her mom left him for good.

No matter how badly Joker spoke of her mom, Marinette knew that Harley had been the only Harlequin of his to actually last. The only one he kept around, and there was a reason for that. Now, he was looking for another replacement. One that was more than a cheap knockoff, and he was hoping that a teenager with not only Harley’s genetics, but also his own, would be the exact kind of right-hand prop he wanted. An obedient little puppet of chaos, just for him.

But Marinette was nobody's toy. She had been used and taken advantage of enough back in Paris, she had spent her whole life struggling to escape the side effects of her parentage. To deal with the things she inherited.

The obsessiveness, the way she was so quick to get attached. She knew she inherited that from her mom. But there was also the rage, the anger that Marinette constantly had to stuff down. Hide below the surface before it hurt someone. Keep under a tight reign and hide away in the back of her mind, her own dirty little secret.

The constant reminder of just who her biological father was. Because that anger, that viciousness, could only have come from him.

She had spent her whole life trying to carve herself her own identity, to create beauty with the chaotic elements she got from her blood. And she couldn’t blame her mother, not really. Her mother at least did her best to help, and always leant an empathetic ear when Marinette needed it. But Joker?

Oh, she could, and would, blame him even long after he was dead and gone. Because he was the one who hurt her mother, he was the one who twisted her and drove her to feel unfit to be a parent. And sometimes, Marinette thought it would be better if Joker never existed. Sure, that meant she never would have been born. But wouldn’t that have been easier, too? To not ever have to experience the struggle that came with being his daughter, a title she never consented to?

But she couldn’t change the past. She was alive, and she would use her life to spite everything that the Joker stood for. That would be her revenge. He wanted a toy?

Joker had been monologuing, but Marinette drowned it all out as she kept her periphery vision on the windows above her. Shadows moved out there, with familiar bright yellows and shadowy blacks. The bats were there. She just needed to stall.

She opened her mouth. Joker pulled a lever.

Marinette dropped.

Wire whizzed through the air, knocking the breath out of Marinette as it wound around her torso. She was barely able to piece together what was happening; one of the bats shot a human-safe grapple to try and pull her away from the acid.

But the chain and her restraints were stronger, heavier, and just dragged the grapple down with her body.

The impact sent a large wave of sickly green liquid surging over the side of the vat, and Marinette was dragged from view underneath the surface.

It burned.

She distantly felt the tape around her ankles peel itself away from her skin, the combination of acid and wetness rendering it useless. She felt the chemicals burning at her, sending painful tingles across every last inch of her skin. It got in her mouth, she didn’t have any breath in her to hold and ended up swallowing some. It seared her throat and created a river of lava inside her. It hurt.

It hurt so bad, she just wanted out. Out. Out. Out!

Someone pull her out now!

The zip tie around her wrist loosened enough for her to pull herself free, right as something heavy slammed into the heavy metal bowl. The entire container sloshed, slamming to fall onto its side. Marinette’s body was pulled alongside the rush of liquid as it flowed out, and she was able to breathe air again. Sweet, cooling air.

And then she hacked up acid, spitting and spewing it in an attempt to purge every last drop she had accidentally ingested. Like a cat choking on a hairball, she coughed and hacked and her chest convulsed and contracted to try and help her. Her ribs ached, she figured that the grapple that had tried to save her had ended up fracturing or breaking a rib or two. But all she cared about was breathing and getting rid of the chemicals she had inhaled. She needed it out. All of it. Out. Out. Out of her!

“Try to take a deep breath,” a gruff voice commanded, soft but solid. Something stable for her to cling to. So she did as it asked, forcing herself to stop hacking and instead focus on inhaling. As slowly as she could. It was difficult, the first few breaths cut themselves off with more involuntary coughing, but the owner of the gruff voice stayed nearby. Repeated it’s request. “Deep breath. Steady, now. In. Out. Good.”

Marinette was just starting to calm down, just starting to claw herself out of the haze of panic and adrenaline, when that wretched laugh cut through the air again.

“There you are! Heheheheh! My cute little Marionette!”

Marinette froze. She could barely think, barely understand her own emotions. But she knew she was different now. She knew there was no way back, he had taken it from her. He had taken her normality, he had taken all of her years of hard work and burned them right in front of her.

He had won. The bats hadn’t been fast enough. But, if her foggy mind was correct, Batman was the one trying to bring her back to lucidity. Batman was the one trying to help her get air back in her lungs.

Not her so-called father.

If he wanted a toy, she’d be a haunted doll. She’d harass him, haunt him, until he wanted nothing to do with her. She’d come back, like a possessed porcelain doll refusing to be thrown away. She would make him regret ever awakening the monster that she had spent so long forcing down. Because she was her father’s daughter, yes. But she was also her mother’s daughter.

And most importantly, she was Marinette Quinzel-Isley. Her own damned person. The Chosen wielder of the Creation miraculous. And she would never bow down and be used by anyone, ever again.

Tikki’s words from so long ago echoed in her mind. Resounded even louder than Joker’s laughter;

“That’s all order really is, Marinette. The decision to take all the chaos and madness around us, and make it make sense. Make it do something good.”

And wasn’t that everything Marinette had ever done? It was a part of her now. Like a tattoo she had inked into her very soul.

She took the chaos she was given, and turned it into something beautiful. And right now? Right now, the most beautiful thing she could think of was Joker’s face when she slammed her fist into it.

“Easy,” Batman repeated, but for a different reason now. Marinette’s lungs still stuttered a little, but her breathing was mostly under control. Now, he was saying it because Marinette was forcing herself to her feet. Her legs trembled under her, threatening to lay her out on the floor again. But she was every bit as stubborn as Joker, which made for a terrifying combination with her all-consuming fury. The acid had broken the mental chains Marinette had been using to hold it back, and now it burned fierce and bright in her eyes.

So Marinette kept herself up right, cognizant of Batman’s hand on her shoulder but ignoring it. She grit her teeth against the burning light of the room, everything suddenly too bright and colorful. Too vibrant. But it did little to distract her. She realized that one of her hands still gripped the heavy chain that had sent her drowning in the acid, and sent a snarl at her darling, jackass of a father as she whipped it out right towards him.

“Marinette!” Batman yelled, his grip tightening on her shoulder. But he didn’t pull her back, which spoke louder than any words he could have said to her right then. He wouldn’t save Joker from his daughter, he knew the man deserved at least this much pain. And sure enough, the metal links slammed right into Joker’s side, winding around him like a crushing whip.

But that was all Marinette had the strength to do. As soon as she saw Joker’s body hit the floor, writhing in agony and painfully loud cackles, her hand let go of the chain and her body tumbled down. Batman caught her.

“Red Hood, Nightwing, get Joker back to Arkham,” Batman’s order faded in and out of focus. Now that her most pressing desire was taken care of, the effects of the acid reared their ugly heads with renewed ferocity. Everything was too bright, too loud, and her thoughts echoed in her head like voices wrestling for supremacy. “Robin, Black Bat, stay on alert. Harley said that she’s incredibly trained,” he warned his partners. Marinette didn’t begrudge him, the only other two people who had survived being dunked into those chemicals hadn’t exactly treated him with kindness and pacifism. But she could barely focus on them anyway, too distracted by trying to reign in the chaos in her mind.

But Joker would never stay silent, even as he was dragged away in chains.

“Hehehahahahaha! Paper white, paper white!” He jeered cheerfully. “That’s my girl! Violent just like Papa!” Red hood knocked him out with a harsh punch to the side of his neck before he could say another word. But it was enough— enough for Marinette to gasp in realization.

Her skin. It was paper white, just like his. Not even Harley’s skin had been bleached like the Joker’s after her dip in the acid. That had always been makeup. Her mom had a healthy, peachy complexion like anyone else. A complexion Marinette had shared— until now. Now, she was unhealthily pale. Just like him.

A painful screech tore itself from her already raw throat, and Marinette’s fingernails immediately began to tear at her own skin. Red. Red was better than white— she didn’t want to look like him. She couldn’t. White was bad. Bad. Bad. Bad.

“Marinette! Stop!” Strong hands clamped around her wrists, pulling her hands away from herself even as she wriggled and tried to keep clawing at herself.

“No! No no no!” Marinette howled. “I don’t wanna look like him! I don’t wanna be like him!” She managed to get one hand free and immediately tried to tear away at her face. Batman was able to wrestle her arm away before she could do any damage besides a few angry red lines. “I refuse! I refuse! I refuse!” She shook her head, not feeling as tears flung themselves off her cheeks.

“Okay,” Batman’s voice was solid again, soft and grumbly and stable. She grabbed at it again, drawn to anything that might help bring her stability. She needed his unflappable attitude right then, and he probably didn’t even realize how badly. “That’s good. But you don’t need to rip your skin off to do that, you know that right?”

Marinette hiccuped, finally sinking down to sob as the weight of everything she had lost pressed down over the chaos of deafening light and blinding sound that continued to jumble around inside her head. “He changed me,” she choked out. Batman nodded even though she wasn’t looking at him.

“He did.”

“Th-that f-fucking bastard,” Marinette managed a sad chuckle before devolving right back into sobs. “I wo-worked so h-hard. N-never hurt any-anybody. Never… never yelled. Ne-never hit… Not people who didn’t attack f-first.”

“I know. Your mom told me,” he confirmed calmly. Solid, tethering. Marinette swallowed another gulp of air, trying to calm down. But everything was too much.

“Mom!” She suddenly realized out loud, turning and grabbing at Batman’s chest, clinging to his uniform. She didn’t even care that she almost sliced herself on a batarang, she clung to him desperately with wide, crazed eyes. “G-get Mom and… and Ivy! They… they can help. They know—“ Marinette paused to breathe, then resumed. “Momma Ivy— she gave me—gave me a diluted… th-thingy, years ago, I can’t remember—“ Marinette’s eyebrows furrowed as she tried to get her mind to calm down. To work.

“The serum she gave Harley?” He asked. “The one that made her immune to poisons, and gave her increased physical abilities?”

“That!” Marinette agreed frantically, nodding. “I was too— too little, to give the real thing, so she diluted it,” she swallowed her spit and winced when it burned her throat. “It… I think it’s helping with the—the—the—“

“The chemical’s effects?” Batman suddenly sounded like he was paying much more attention than before, his shoulders a little straighter at her explanation. “You think it’s slowing down or numbing what it did to your mom and Joker?” Marinette couldn’t talk anymore, it hurt too much. Everything hurt too much, so she just nodded. “Good. That’s good, Marinette. Robin! Get Harley and Ivy down here, now!”

That was when the voices started. Sometime during the ten minutes it took to get her Mom and Ivy to her, they had apparently been waiting nearby anxiously incase the Bats had needed backup, the voices had built from ominous whispers to devious shouts, ordering her to do things like slam her elbow into Batman’s throat or see what happened if she splashed Robin with some of the acid that was still on the ground.

Her body didn’t move. She kept herself carefully still, focusing on ignoring her impulse to listen to one of the voices. She was still lucid enough to know that she would regret it if she did any of that. That the Bats were more on her side than any of the voices or the Joker were. But it was growing painful, and Harley and Ivy walked in to Batman trying to keep Marinette from hitting her own head. She had devolved to trying to knock herself out to get the voices to be quiet.

“Shut up,” she hissed, her voice hoarse and gravelly. “Shut up, shut up, shut. Up!” She was clearly talking to herself, her eyes screwed shut as she continued to try and hit her head. Harley gasped, hands flying to her mouth and eyes watering at the sight. This was something she had hoped she would never see.

“Harls,” Ivy spoke softly, putting a gentle arm around her wife’s back in support. It hurt Ivy to see Marinette in so much agony, but she knew it pained Harley even more. And much more personally. “Come on. We can help.”

“Y-you’re right,” Harley agreed shakily, taking a deep breath to try and compose herself before they both approached their daughter. Batman didn’t let go of Marinette, but did lean out of the way to give them access to her.

“Honeycake?” Harley called out softly, a little unsure how the chemicals were affecting her baby’s personality right then. The first few days were going to be the worst, and she knew that. The Dunk never took it easy on it’s victims. Marinette gasped, stopping her muttering and raising her head to look at Harley with wide eyes.

“Momma?”

Harley had to swallow heavily to shove back the sob that wanted to bubble up out of her. She had to be strong for her baby. She couldn’t break yet. But Marinette hadn’t called her Momma since she was little, now she called Pamela ‘Momma Ivy’ and her just ‘Mom’.

“It’s me, sugarplum,” she assured her daughter, kneeling down and cupping one of Marinette’s cheeks in her palm. And that was when she noticed it, and couldn’t help but widen her eyes in shock. But Marinette’s senses were so sensitive that she noticed it right away, and stiffened.

“Wh-what is it?” She grew frantic when Harley didn’t immediately respond, only winced in sympathy. Marinette knew that wasn’t good. “Mom? What is it? What did he do? What else did he do to me?”

“Darling,” Harley started, licking her lips nervously. “My sweet baby girl, your right eye… it’s green now, sugar.”

Marinette’s world froze. She tried to smile, but it came out lopsided and disbelieving. “No,” she somehow managed to breathe. “No, mom, I have your eyes. Your blue eyes. I love your eyes,” Her voice steadily got more and more panicked as she went on, not wanting to accept what her mother was clearly seeing. She watched as Harley’s face broke a little, a few tears escaping before the older woman could stop them. Marinette shook her head again, slipping her tiny wrist out of Batman’s hold and raising it to her eye. “No. It’s one of his tricks. He—he must have slipped a contact in my eye when I was passed out, that’s— that’s— that’s all—“ but her fingertip met her normal eye. No contact to be felt. Marinette’s hand fell into her lap limply. The room was absolutely silent as everyone gave her a few seconds to process just how much she had been changed, entirely against her will. She opened and closed her mouth, not sure whether she wanted to yell or curse or cry. Instead, her voice just came out in a very tiny, broken:

“...fuck.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Marinette had gone mostly mute. She would say a word here or there, but for the most part she was doing a good impression of a vegetable. She stayed silent, as still as possible, and just stared at the ceiling of her hospital room.

She had been like that for the past two weeks they had been monitoring her in the Acid’s aftermath. Her ribs, which had turned out to only be bruised thankfully enough, had healed. Her cheek and torso were healed up too, only the barest hint of sickly yellow to show as a reminder of Joker’s hits on her. Sometimes the cameras would catch her talking to seemingly empty air, only for a nurse to rush in and see that Marinette had gone silent yet again.

Tikki was doing her best to help. She had been separated from Marinette, but Pamela had found Marinette’s purse and returned it— and subsequently Tikki— when they had gotten her to the hospital. She was the only person Marinette regularly spoke to, because Marinette knew Tikki understood. Tikki had been around since the Big Bang, she had seen worse things than a little insanity. Tikki had always been there to help her feel at ease with her mind and body. She shared a piece of Tikki’s soul, even, according to the tiny god.

But talking to anyone else was too hard. Too scary. She still had those damned voices at war in her mind, trying to convince her to do things that made her lock her joints and keep her body absolutely still before she acted on any of the coaxes. Possibilities she had never considered before came startlingly easy to her mind now— like how it would only take two seconds to tear her IV out and stab it into her nurse’s eye. How she could use her blanket to strangle Momma Ivy, or how she could fake jumping out the window and Harley wouldn’t waste a second trying to save her.

They were horrible thoughts. Intrusive, ugly, and far too loud. She didn’t want to act on any of them, but sometimes she found her fingers twitching only a second before she could follow through on one.

She spent a lot of time meditating, because of it. Which is why most people thought she was ignoring them. She didn’t mean to, she just needed to meditate. It was like her brain was a giant room filled with filing cabinets that held her thoughts and emotions. Her whole life, Marinette had carefully kept this room alphabetized, organized, and neat. Every file in its correct drawer. Until Joker had come along, and ripped the entire place apart. Tore certain files in half, broke her cabinets, ruined her filing system. And now she had to put the room back together, one drawer and piece of paper at a time.

That’s what the meditation was doing. She was getting reacquainted with herself. Learning what had changed in her mind and trying to adjust. She couldn’t be the old Marinette anymore, but she’d be damned if she let the Joker turn her into someone ugly like him.

So she needed time.

One day, towards the end of those two weeks, she got a visitor slipping through her window. Considering her room was on the tenth floor, she had it pretty narrowed down as to who it could be. Batman had visited her every night, a silent shadow in the corner, but he had already left for the day so it couldn’t be him. None of the other bats had dropped by after the second day.

She turned her head to see that that was now changed; Red Hood sat on her windowsill with one leg inside the room and the other bent on the sill itself. He looked the very picture of comfort despite being a stiff wind (or quick shove— no, bad brain) away from falling to his death. And then Hood took off his helmet, which was ugly enough to inspire some of the more violent suggestions in her brain and make them seem appealing.

“Ya know. Red Hood used to be what Joker called himself,” were the first words out of the vigilante’s mouth. Marinette’s eyebrows pulled down, and it was clear she was confused (and a little angry) at what he told her. He grinned, his eyes still hidden by the domino mask on his face. “Eh. The bastard killed me, ya know. I was the second Robin, a lifetime ago.”

Marinette’s eyes widened at that, and the violent voices dimmed and seemed to grow muffled. Marinette couldn’t quite understand what they were trying to tell her anymore, which made her figure that she had better pay attention to what Hood had to say. She licked her dry lips, and spoke softly. Her throat was still damaged from the acid, so she couldn’t speak very loudly yet.

“Then how are you… you know, here?”

The man chuckled. “Another group of assholes happens to have a magic pit in their basement. It’s a glowing green lake, ten different types of bad news. But it brings people back to life, and they dunked me in it without even caring for a second if I even wanted to come back.”

Marinette’s shoulders relaxed all on their own. It seemed to sink into her brain all at once, a simple:

Oh. He gets it.

“I guess the water doesn’t take it easy on your brain, either?” She hazarded an educated guess. He laughed, shaking his head.

“Not at all. I went off the deep end for a while, and killed a lotta people. They deserved it at least, but I don’t like how violent I was back then. Before I learned how to cope. Attacked people who were innocent. Red Robin almost died when I attacked him, back then, when he was just Robin.”

“Then why’d you keep calling yourself Red Hood?” She asked, tilting her head. He finally turned his head to look straight at her instead of just staring out the window. His grin widened, but it was lopsided. The grin of someone who was healed from some serious shit, but knew that it would always ache. A bittersweet expression.

“Cuz he doesn’t own that name. I made it into something that stands for at least a little good. Something that scares the assholes who don’t care about killing or abusing innocent people. Hell, some people take comfort in the name Red Hood now. And you know what that means?”

Marinette shook her head, and his grin widened into a shark-like smile.

“It means I stole it from him. The name Red Hood. He’ll never use it again, and now it stands for the opposite of anything he’d agree with. You can do that too, you know. Find something to steal from him, or use something he gave you, and make it your own.”

“Turn the chaos into something good,” Marinette said dreamily, clearly quoting someone. Red Hood nodded.

“Exactly. It’s not gonna be easy, but you got the choice here. You ain’t going back to who you used to be, but you can take the victory away from him.”

“... make him regret ever dunking me in that stupid vat,” she agreed, narrowing her eyes as they filled with determination for the first time since her body hit the acid. “He wants a puppet, an obedient little doll, I’ll give him Annabel.”

“There ya go,” The vigilante slid off the windowsill and approached her bed, holding out his hand for a shake. “I can help you get to that. What do ya say?”

Marinette was silent for a long minute, staring straight into his masked eyes. And then, a slow smile spread over her lips. “I got one question, Red Hood.”

“Shoot.”

“How do you feel about black cats?”

—*—*—*—*—*

This took four hours, holy hell. I’m actually happy with how this turned out. What do you guys think? I even got to max length on Tumblr 😂

[house-of-slayterr]

Good morning/night! I love your recent post! I love how Maggie sympathize with our newly revived villain. All though I hate him in other shows/movies, you write him to be more likeable (≧▽≦)

I also loved your post about Basil, I love that the family is growing 💗

So... I was wondering if we could add another member? I wanna give Maggie a traumatized sibling 😀

One of y/n's underdogs from the mafia? And she and y/n have an Akutagawa and Dazai from bsd relationship? If you're not busy ofc ☺️

Omg I’m so glad you like my version of Grodd. I to don’t really enjoy his on screen adaptations, I think they did him dirty in the Flash. I mean hello, telepathic gorilla! He’s baby. Similar to Ivy, his motives makes sense, his execution is just what’s bad. But I wanted to bring in some more outside characters, maybe an excuse to have the Gotham characters interact with some people from Flash. They already have a branch out to Arrow.

I’m also really glad you’re enjoying Basil! I’m loving him so much so far. I feel like he’s way smarter than he lets off. He likes to seem nonchalant and I feel like he’s more on the emotionless side like Y/N and Victor. Considering he himself isn’t a human, he probably doesn’t care as deeply about human life as Maggie does.

I’m not quite sure about adding anyone else just yet. Of course I do love the idea, so thank you for suggesting it. But I don’t think now is the right time. There’s a lot to write already if that makes sense. But don’t worry, Maggie does have traumatised siblings. Have you seen Oliver and Thea? They are both messes. I mean Oliver has 8 seasons worth of trauma 😂 plus Thea after she comes back to life and half of her soul is gone because of thre Lazarus pit. And then she learns that’s her father isn’t even her father and has to be trained by Malcom Merlyn. So not against new characters, maybe let’s just flesh out these ones a little more first. Maybe you could ask Flay if they have any ideas for someone new?

So how about if I have her interact with her siblings a little more. Maybe Thea comes to her confessing she found out the truth about who her father is. I feel like Maggie would feel like an ass for not being there for her little sister. Not that she knew this revelation would happen, but she’d certainly blame herself for not checking in more. And it could be fun to have Oliver find out just how deep his little sister has gotten tangled in this villain web. I feel like he would try to “ground” her, and this would probably result in a verbal fight with Y/N and a physical fight with Victor.

I don’t think I’ve written much of Maggie just interacting with Victor yet. So maybe I’ll have them bond a bit more. But I feel like although he’s only a yandre for Y/N (and by association her “kids”) he doesn’t like when people try to control his “play things” so if Oliver came to town demanding Maggie come back home, or is Kara did the same for Basil, he would flip. Nobody takes them away from him, he wants to see their potential, and would be bored if they became goody two shoes hero’s.

But if it’s more trauma you want over all, I can do that! I like being a mean writer and torturing my Oc’s. Also if you’re interested and you have Wattpad, I have another Gotham series on there. There’s not as much written for that because I’ve been busy, but it’s in collaboration with one of my IRL friends Oc’s (I can link their AO3 account if you’re interested in that too, they have over a hundred chapters so you won’t get bored lol)

It’s closer to the comic book portrayal of the characters. And it focuses more on the hero side of things instead of the villains. The main focus is on the bat fam. My oc is Morrigan and his oc is Harley. So if you want more to read in the meantime while I get to writing, you could check those out!

Thanks for the ask Anon, love you <3

[m0chisenpai]

New neighbors

 Pairing: Harley Quinn x Reader

Harley could have sworn she was the only certified merc living in her much more luxury studio apartment with the kid. Save for the more small criminals and well knowns of Gotham lived in these buildings.

But this girl was different.

 First off she was too pretty to be getting those little hands dirty. She knew she always went out at night, she was driven by tall large men who did not leave until she stepped foot into her apartment, and the woman dressed to impress every single night.

She must’ve been in the smuggling or drug ordeal with a gorgeous face and body like that. And that only made Harley more attracted to her. She found the ‘business woman’ next door to be a puzzle that she wanted to piece together as quickly as possible.

Second she was a cat person. Not small little tabby cat or one of those Garfield fat lazy kind of cats. More like a pair of twin hundred pound pure breed panthers alerted the people living there a someone was coming in.

And she just so happened to live next door to one of Gotham’s infamous clowns. The two never ran into each other.  Harley did try catching her attention plenty of times. She tried to catch her in the park when she would go out on those early jogs, or try and meet her in the elevator when she was back from one of her business meetings.

She caught her sometimes ahead of her in lines to the coffee shops, or the corner store for a breakfast sandwich sometimes too. Yet nothing seemed to catch her attention. That and on the account that when Harley tried so much as to get an inch closer one of her men sent her a glare that nearly scared her shitless.

But she never expected to see the girl hauling in a trash bag clearly filled with two dead bodies to the elevator. She was clearly not expecting to be dumping bodies as she clumsily held her heels in one hand, and tugged the trench coat around her shivering body to shield it from the crisp night air.

Harley quickly adjusted the messy top knot bun on her and checked her lipstick in her phones camera. She fixed the bright suit jacket and walked up behind the struggling girl as casually as possible, and tapped her shoulder lightly as to not end up in the bag (though she hopped to end up in that bed). 

“Need help puddin?” Harley flipped her glasses up to look down at the huffing woman. 

“I’ve got it.” She let out silent grunts as she gave the bag another tug making it a few inches ahead while Harley caught up with her in just two steps.

“You know everyone here’s a scumbag, con artist, playboy. You name it and they probably live here doll, They ain’t gonna snitch on ya I swear.” Harley told the huffing and puffing girl. She finally dropped the bags looking at the pale clown girl with her hands in her pocket and a pout on her lips. 

“Names Harleen, my friends call me Harley.”

“Y/N.”

“Well Y/N feel free to put those lovely boots back on and I’ll haul these two to your building.” Harley tucked her glasses in her front coat pocket and picked up the bag like it was nothing but Wednesday garbage pick up. She waited patiently for the girl to slide her heels back on and followed her to the elevator. 

“Huh you’re on the fifth floor too? Coincidence much?” Harley gasped in fake surprise.

“Yeah, I’m not much of a morning bird. That’s probably why you haven’t seen me too often around here.” Y/N tucked a piece of loose hair behind her ear.

“Mercenary?”

“In a way.”

“Oh well you must be one of those hardcore types. You’re not much of a smiler, or a talker either.”

The door pinged and opened up and as she led the way to her room she dug through her clutch pulling a keychain out opening up the door. Harley already knew they were coming up on her door and slowed down behind the girl who opened up the door to her flat.

It was open spaced with beautiful drapes cutting off the bedroom from the rest of the room which was covered in plants. On the coffee table were papers and files with either large red ‘x’ marks or revealing some man or woman’s face. 

And on the couch were the two large felines that woke to their owner leaped off the couch quickly trotting up to her.

“Oh hello babies” she plopped to the ground hugging their heads close to her allowing their large tongues to lap her face. Meanwhile Harley scowled at the cats dropping the bag on the floor. 

“Thank you again, Harley” She gave the clown a smile which melted her heart.

“Hey it’s no problem pud- Y/N” she went to walk out looking back at the girl rubbing her hands over the felines heads.

“If you ever need anymore...cat food feel free to knock. I’m next door”  Harley gave the girl a smirk leaning against the door frame “am I gonna be able to see that smile ever again?”

“Either you turn into one of my babies, or you take me out properly. No dead bodies involved this time please, I have a nail appointment coming soon.”

Harley clicked her tongue tilting her head side to side “that can definitely be arranged. Good night miss Y/N.” After blowing the blushing girl a kiss she closed the door walking to her own apartment.

Yet once inside she let out a loud ‘fuck” realizing she neglected to give her number. 

Bonus Scene

The next morning Harley shuffled to the door rubbing the sleep out of her eye at the gentle knock at her door. A gun was behind her back as she peaked through the hole and saw nothing but a small bag outside her door.

When she picked up the bag pulling out the pink box on top written in sharpie was her neighbors number and a bright red lipstick kiss left on top the box. And the entire floor was woken by the loud squeals from the clown mixed with the cackles from her hyena that early morning.

[starfirette]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The entire mission is actually depending on that rumor.

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

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

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

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

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

You intended to be flawless in the ring. 

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

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

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

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

Nothing would slide through the cracks. 

Hopefully. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You would not. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cass jumped off the sofa to run after Harley. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I hope I got the rank right?”

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

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

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

“You have ten minutes,” Carmen adds.

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

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

Helena didn’t say anything.

“Oi, Katniss,” Harley said loudly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harley grimaced as the door slammed shut.

“Kid, come on,” Montoya sighed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who come up with that?” Cass asked. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You kicked your boots off next. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You had to look away. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The crowd exploded into a frenzy. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You felt stronger with her just a few yards away. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was too late for her. 

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

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

“Good game?” she rasped. 

“Hell yeah,” you wheezed. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where’s the exit?” Cass asked. 

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

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

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

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

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

Harley struggled to lift Ayala up. 

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

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

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

It was the first time all day that Montoya smiled. 

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

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

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

“You have the keys!” Cassie shouted back. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you,” you mouth to her. 

“I love you, too,” she replied. 

[edyacouky]

New Chance

Hi, this is my participation for Day 01 of @tentatoddweek

Day 01 : Plant & Vines

I was inspired by Rogue!AU of @careamorran (go see their tumblr it’s awesome!)

Hope you will enjoy it.

                                                         ~*~

Jason won’t say he is lucky.

His dad kept going in prison, even dead there. Letting him with his mom who was too sick to take care of him. Then she dies too.

He was only eleven years old then.

He did his best to survive on the street, but it’s the Narrow and it’s gentle to no one.

Jason still doesn’t know who and why they shoot on the street this day. The only thing he knows for sure is that he takes a bullet that wasn’t for him in the stomach.

He crawls far away as he could from the other bullet flying all around the street.

He finally arrived on a warehouse. Curiously, the place was covered by flower and wine everywhere.

Exhausted, Jason let himself lie on the floor.

He would have preferred died surrounded by books. But after living in the dirty and polluted street of Gotham, it was almost nice to leave this earth with something looking so different in mind.

While he drifted away from his body, he felt the wines were wrapped around him.

                                                    ~*~

Despite all the odds, he waked up.

He learned that he came to die in Poison Ivy’s territory, and, without even she could explain it, the plants give him his life back.

“I never was able to do that before, she muttered, I’m not sure I can do that again.”

Jason wasn’t as focus on what she said as he should have been.

He was keep looking at his body, now as green as her, and he was distracted by the swarming on his back.

“Don’t know why my plants save a human, but if they did it, it must be because you deserve it. Ivy finally decided. Do you have any family you could return to?

-No. I had only my parents but they are dead.

-Not a bad thing. I’m not sure any parents from Narrow would have loved you like that. Metas aren’t welcome in Gotham after all.

-Does that mean I will never come back to school ever?

-Don’t see how it could be possible. You really look like a mini Me.”

When Jason rethinks of this moment, he always feels embarrassed by how loud he cries when she told him this.

He learned that he was dead, he just came back to live, he became a Meta and the only thing that he concentrate on was that he couldn’t come back to school.

Ivy was clearly uncomfortable and didn’t know how to take care of a child. But she never said he had to leave.

Till this day, they lived together. She taught him to accept what he became; she wasn’t horrified when wine could pop out Jason’s back. On the contrary, she was kind of happy about it.

She brought back as many books that she could for her “excursion” so he could learn as much as he wanted. She never made him participate to her evil plan.

If it wasn’t because of surprise visited from Harley, no one would know he existed.

“So Ivy’s baby, Harley told him this day, how should I call you?

-Hemolck.” He naturally answered

It was the name Ivy gave him since he started to be able to secrete poisons from his wines.

Ivy never was a mother for Jason, more like a big sister. And he was happy.

So of course, it couldn’t stay this way forever.

                                                     ~*~

Ivy is arrested, again, for one of her evil plan against humanity for the Earth. But this time, Jason is fourteen and he doesn’t have to be babysat by Harley anymore.

Not that he hates it. In fact, he likes her as much as Ivy. But he is really uncomfortable with “Uncle J” that Harley is unable to break with him yet.

So he decides to come see her at Arkham Asylum.

He doesn’t understand why they keep putting her in an asylum since she isn’t crazy.

He covers himself as much as he can, but can’t hide his face to enter in the parlor.

Immediately, the guards freak out, they believe that he is here to rescue Ivy, like she needs his help.

“Let me go! He yells. You’re hurting me!”

This men try to put him in jail, despite the fact he didn’t do anything wrong!

His wines leave his back, and for a moment he thinks of use it against them, but changes his mind. He can’t give them reason. Instead, the wines hang on everything around him to prevent them to make him move.

“Let me go! I just come here as a visitor!

-Keep lying, you freak! You come with us.”

One of the guards comes to him with a knife to cut his wines.

“Let him go.”

Everything stops suddenly.

The Freaking Batman is here with The Commissioner Gordon!

Jason starts to really panic they will put him in Arkham.

“What do you think you’re doing? Gordon asks to the guards

-We put this freak in jail.

-Why that?

-Look at him. He belongs in Arkham.

-This kid commits no crime. He has no criminal record. Let him go.

-You may be commissioner but you’re not our superior. What do you think will happen to us if they learn we let this freak free?

-What do you think will happen when media learn that you arrest a child because of the way he looks? You will lose your job immediately.”

The guards hesitate now.

“I will take full responsibility. Gordon said. Now let him go.”

Finally Jason is free again.

“Thanks.” He mumbles to Gordon

His eyes are on Batman.

What is he doing here?

Jason doesn’t hate Batman, despite the fact he is the one who arrest Ivy every time. It would be as stupid as hate the police that arrest his dad every time he did something illegal.

But he doesn’t like him either.

A man shouldn’t bring child in his fight.

“Hemlock, isn’t it? Batman asks him

-So what?

-You’re here to see Poison Ivy.

-Can I go now?

-Yes, of course. Gordon says cutting anything that Batman could have wanted to say. If anything happen again, you can call me.”

Jason takes the card that Gordon gives to him, thanking him again and goes to the parlor.

While he waits for Ivy, Jason wonders if he would have be so happy if it was his dad he was about to see. Probably not.

“Hemlock? Ivy says surprised. What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be with Harley.

-I’m fourteen years old, now. I don’t need her to babysit me anymore. And … I though you will be happy to see me.

-I am. Ivy promises. I am.”

After a long moment of silence between them, Ivy sights and says:

“Probably better this way. I have something to announce you. And you won’t like it.

-What?

-Batman came see me.

-Yeah, I just saw him.

-He made a proposition … about you.

-What do you mean? Did … did you sold me?

-Of course not. No matter what you decide I will be by your side.

-So why didn’t you says no to his proposition?

-Because this choice is yours. Listen to me, ok?

-Yeah … ok.

-He proposes to take you to live in one of their heroes headquarter. You will have all yours books and even more, your room. A place where you will be sound and safe. He and his friends will even found a way for you to go to school. Isn’t what you wanted?

-What do they want for me? Being their puppet? Fight their battle? Never see you again?

-None of this. You won’t have to be a sidekick and we can still be in contact.

-It’s too good to be true. It must be a trap somewhere.

-I don’t think so. What else do you want to do?

-I’m fourteen, I can …

-You’re still a kid.

-And I have you.

-Hemlock…. You must know I am not good for you.

-What are you talking about?

-It’s true. I will always be a criminal, going in and out of prison. And no matter how much I love you, I will never stop focus on my objective. You know I’m obsessed with it. You deserve better.

-If you want to get rid of me, you can simply say it.

-Hemlock, it’s not that. Are you truly happy living clandestinely with criminal? These heroes propose you a future. You should accept it.”

                                                    ~*~

At first, Jason refuses to even see Batman or his sidekick Robin. He did his best to avoid them without success. Finally, Ivy is right. Jason wants to go back to school.

He simply says “yes” one day and the other he is Mount Justice in Happy Harbor with his room and a phone where Ivy can contact him.

There is another persons living here with him but none is as young as he. But even if it was the case, Jason doesn’t think thing would have go more smoothly.

Despite the fact he never helps Ivy and he is here with Batman’s recommendation, there still suspicion, he is here to spy on them.

He isn’t happy here.

Yes, he is glad when they offer him a bracelet that he can use to hide his green skin.

Yes, he is glad when it allows him to go outside.

Yes, he is glad when he go to school and is never be hungry anymore.

But he feels so lonely.

                                                              ~*~

One day where he is alone, he is in the kitchen to make his diner. While he is reading “Sense and Sensibility” by Jane Austen, he let his wines freely leave his back so they can cut the vegetable, boil the water for the pasta, and prepare some meat.

Ivy wouldn’t be happy to see him eat something that it isn’t meat, but he never succeed have the same alimentation as her.

His diner almost ready, some of his wines start to prepare the tray so he can go eat in his room.

“That’s fantastic!” Someone suddenly yells

Jason jumps and almost lost his page.

This is Roy Harper. He doesn’t see him much since he lives at the other end of the country.

“They’re look almost alive.

-As much as my foot or my arm. Jason answers

-That’s seems practical. I would like to have so many members when I work on my workshop.

-Believe me. We never have enough.”

Roy laughs at that then he asks:

“Do you mind if I join you to eat?

-I didn’t make enough for two.

-Oh, don’t worry for that. I buy a sandwich to eat here. I just don’t want to eat alone.”

Jason doesn’t really understand why he accepts. He doesn’t what happen this time in the Heroes Universe but he is sure that Roy will interrogate him to know if he is a spy. Not be the first time it happen.

“Stupid question, Roy says while they sit down, I hear your wines are poisoned. Isn’t it dangerous using it like that?

-No, Ivy taught me long ago how to control the secretion of the poison.

-Must be pretty scary when you can’t.

-Well … I was only with Ivy so … no. She’s kind of immune to poison, you know?”

They keep talking about Ivy and Oliver, Roy’s job, Jason’s school, about music, book, video game.

Without Jason realizes it, they spend all the evening to talk.

“It was nice to talk to you, kid. He says him when they go apart to sleep

-That’s nice.” Jason admit with a little blush

It’s like him to be this stupid. Someone is nice to him more than one hour, and he can’t help himself but feel like stupid puppy that will never learn despite all the kicks he received.

“Pull yourself together, Jason.” He mutters

The next day, he doesn’t see Roy, neither he sees him the next months.

Fortunately, during this time, the heroes are nicer to him and he is even able to do some friends at school after he rejoins the theatre club.

Even so, sometimes his heart misses a beat when he thinks he saw Roy.

                                                     ~*~

At the end of his first year scholar at Happy Harbor Middle School, he finally gets to play his first play ever.

Despite not playing a leader role, he still has line.

He is pretty excited about all of that, especially because Ivy swears she will be there.

He can help himself but sing all day about everything.

“Oh, Jason, Diana calls him, you seems happy.

-I am. He easily admits to her, even without her lasso he can’t lie to her. How are you?

-I’m fine. I wanted to see you.”

Jason looks at her with apprehension. He really hopes that Ivy didn’t do anything that may put her in jail.

“I learn that you will put on a play this Friday night. I would like to come, did you have any left?

-What? Really? I just take one for Ivy. Jason admits blushing at the simple idea that freaking Wonder Woman want to see his play. I am sorry … I didn’t think that …

-You have nothing to be sorry. I will see with your teacher if I can buy one.”

Jason is too moved to answer anything. He should assure her that she doesn’t have to come, or that he will be the one to find her a ticket.

“Ah, Jason. Dinah calls him. Your piece is this Friday, right? Oliver and I would like to come.

-You two too?! Jason yells

-You too, Diana?

-Yes. Maybe you should ask at the end of the meeting who want to come, so one person will see the teacher to take ticket for everyone.

-Yeah. This is a great plan.”

Jason is too speechless by the fact that three super heroes want to go see his play. He doesn’t understand why they want to come and why they think everyone else would like to come too.

But before he can say anything, the meeting starts.

This night, Jason is lying on his back on his bed. He doesn’t know what the meeting was about but once it was finished, they all leave without he get the chance to talk to Diana or Dinah.

Unable to know if some heroes will come to his play, he decided to inform Ivy that it may be a possibility. She didn’t seem affected by that. She simply asks if she can have a ticket for Harley.

That’s too absurd. It’s supposed to be a simple school play. At first, he didn’t even expect that Ivy can come, and now heroes may be here too. It’s too much. He can sleep that night.

What if the heroes come to capture Ivy? What if they use him as a bait?

Maybe he should lie to them, telling them that he make a mistake when he affirmed that the play is this Friday.

But what if they learn that he lies?

They house him, feed him, and pay for his studies. He can't upset them. Otherwise, he will return live in Ivy’s warehouse in the Narrow, quitting school, and fight for eat each time Ivy and Harley are in jail.

Now that he lives in safety and luxury, it’s difficult to abandon all of that.

What should he do?

Jason cries and let his wines hug him. Even when he falls asleep, they keep stroke his back and his hair.

                                                      ~*~

He doesn’t get to know until Friday evening who will come.

He feels so sick this day that the teacher asks him if he will be able to play tonight. His stunt double was suddenly so preoccupied by his health, telling him he should rest.

Gently, Jason tells him he can go fuck off.

The first persons he sees before the spectacle it’s Poison Ivy accompanied by Harley.

“My little Hemlock. She says hugging him tight. I’m so glad to see you.

-I miss you too.

-Oh little J. You’re cuter every day.” Harley says to him kissing him for Ivy

For hiding who Ivy really is, she covers of makeup and clothes toes to neck, she even wears glove.

“I’m not cute. Jason defends himself. I’m a manly man.

-Yeah sure.” Ivy mocks her

They still talk and laugh the three of them a little more before the freaking Wonder Woman comes says hi to Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn.

Jason mumbles the unnecessary presentation, and the women are nice enough to not say him it.

The little talk becomes weird, especially when Superman, Black Canary, Green Arrow, and Batman come.

Jason doesn’t even know how to react to that. It’s just too much.

Fortunately, the members of the theater club call him because the show will start in a few minutes.

This entire situation is so surreal for Jason. Years sooner, if someone would have say him that he would play in front of Superheroes and Villains, he will never believe it.

He doesn’t know what his life becomes but it’s extraordinary. His vines are completely manic in his back, they almost show themselves in front of everyone on stage.

                                                        ~*~

Roy is a dad.

That’s a new Nightwing, previously Robin, taught him one night where he eats on the Mount Justice.

“How it happen? Jason asks surprised

-Oh, Little Leave. You know when a Mrs and a Mr love each other very much …

-I grew up in the Narrow. Jason cuts him blushing furiously. I must know about sex much more than you do.”

Some of Dick’s friends made fun of him because of that remark. Even his girlfriend Kory doesn’t help.

“Don’t worry. You’re an assiduous student.”

Once the laugh calm down a little, Jason learns that Roy has a kid with a villain, Cheschire. A little girl named Lian.

“He should bring her soon. He promises to present her to us.

-Is this place is babyproof enough?

-Well, you live here for a moment now, and you didn’t have any accident, right?”

Jason pinches with his wines Wally for his comment.

“Ouch!”

Maybe it was better when they saw him as an enemy. Jason sights but he can’t hide his grin. It’s nice not too feel alone anymore

                                                        ~*~

Lian is absolutely gorgeous.

Jason forms a comfortable crib for her with his vines and rocks her making her giggling.

“Is it a good idea to let Lian in Jason’s vines?”

Jason hears one of the Titan members says. He understands why they say that, but it’s still hurt.

He braces himself for the moment Roy will take his little angel away from him forever.

“Are you kidding? I never see Lian this happy in a crib. Every time I try to put in hers she screams like a banshee. But of course she always acts like a little princess with cute boy.”

While Roy says his last sentence he comes closer to Jason to kiss Lian.

And this time, Jason can’t hide the way his vines purr of delight.

[badboy-mysweetboy]

Crazy Ace

Joker x reader? Kinda.... you’ll understand once you read. I don’t wanna spoil

Jared Leto joker is so fucking....yum. I love Harley just saying this now. Warning this does get....graphic about wounds. Random tags: @missmarrinette​ @jokeresques​@jokerimagines​ @suicidesquadimagines​ @pindragon13​

A series of small beeps could be heard from a distance before heavy cement is rubble on the ground.

Turning on my heel my henchmen form in costumes all overtaking the asylum. Arkham Asylum.

They say Harley Quin and the Clown Prince is here. Good.

The henchmen in teddy bear costume on tables shooting the guards aimed to kill. It was a blood bath, all for my doing. All at my pleasure.

Skipping down the halls as my eyes scan the area locating the criminal lockup, music blasted from every speaker. With every time my foot connects to the ground, another 5 bodies hit the floor. Hiding my pales skin with layers of black and blue, my lips followed words of the song without effort. 

The tattoos that are drawn on my skin prominent against the harsh paleness of my skin. The streak of the speaker idolized the end of the song, dead silence. A foul smirk overcame my bored expression as one of my boys opened the door for me. Walking in, there they were. In large cages. Harley cornered herself as Joker watched curiously.

My henchmen stood frozen waiting for my next move, nodding towards the girl they immediately got to work. My stare held close to his, approaching his cold bared solitude. The dark hair covered most of my eyes until looking up, “Well, look at you Harley. All grown up after being a stripper. Must have... grown out of it.” Switching my focus to her. Who I came for. “Me? Not Mista J?” She quirked in confusion. “Give me my package boys then roll out.” Almost within seconds, she’d retrained on her way to my mansion. Turning to meet blue eyes once again, “Let him out after I’m gone.” I wave off my last few men before walking out. 

The only sound heard was my boots meeting the groud as a cold tune of whistling left my lips leaving Joker to rethink everything over.

Joker sat looking around before my men released him, smirking he got up and strolled passed the guards. A firm hand to the Clown Prince's chest stopped him before the door. His cold stare meets a card. A black ace turning it over in front of Jokers' face his eyes now meet with a location. Then they left.

Joyriding around the city, weaving between the traffic with sirens blaring behind me. Music screaming from its speakers as I jerk the wheel to my will. After losing them, which took way to long my eyes gaze upon my place of crime. 

Meeting me at the front door the henchmen welcome me back, “Wassup Shaggy! Got my toys?” Talking to the leader of my boys, Shaggy. He smiled, yes he was older than me. Yes he’s 25 and I’m 15 but he’s my homie. “Yes, Miss Quinzel is in the playroom. Do you need anything?” Shaking my head I headed down to the playroom, skipping 4 steps at a time. The concrete echoed my boots as a curling whistle left my lips once more, one that terrified Harley to her core. 

The door opened, to meet her tied and gagged in a steel chair bolted to the ground. Pure anger took over my expression but a grin found itself on the corners of my lips. “This should be fun.” Shaggy ripping off her gag from her, questions flew from her like a child on crack. “I will gag you again, but with a needle and thread this time.” Immediate silence came from her. Shaggy’s pocket vibrated as he left to take it. 

I stalked her, walking around her like prey. Slightly playing with her pigtails. “I’m gonna have so much fun with you Harley. And then when you’re barely there, I’m going to stop. Then I’m going to tell you why you’re here, and I’m gonna keep you here. Joker can’t save you, because of what you did. You are sitting there for a reason, you put yourself there Dr.Harleen Quinzel and you didn’t even know it.” A menacing laugh erupted from my mouth before going to look at my toys. 

Fingers dancing over the many toys before deciding on my blade, holding it up, admiring it I spoke up,” Do you know why this is my favorite blade Harleen?”

Her head shook violently, “Now let us use our words Harleen. Is that the way you speak to me after I broke you out of that place? Ungrateful.” Approaching her she squeaked out, “I’m so-sorry. W-why is i-it your fa-avorite blade?” Smiling I level my face with hers, “You see, this is the blade that I killed my adopted father with. I stole it when around 7.” Tracing her cheekbone with the old blade leaving a fine line across her face as she whimpers. Smiling I continued drawing in red, her screams filled my ears as I covered every inch of her pale skin. 

Letting out a dramatic sigh, “I’m starting to get bored. How about you Harleen? Are you bored?” Searching her eyes, “Now, now, now Harleen. We spoke about responding.” Not leaving her stare, the knife plunged into her leg with a scream, “I’m sorry! No, I’m having fun. Please, why are you doing this?” A whisper left her lips, smirking leaning into her ear. “That the question isn’t it?” 

“Hey Boss, The Joker is here.” Shaggy pronounces, standing straight a look of hope gleamed in Harleen’s eyes. I too smiled. “Awww that’s cute, look at that Shags, she thinks he’s here for her. No, honey, I gave him my location. Stay here honey I’ll be back!” I yell pass my shoulder leaving the room. Checking my watch, “Ah ya see, he’s late Shagster. People have no sense of respect nowadays.” Walking up the final stair the green-haired Crime boss stood, “Why am I here Ace?” He grumbled, smiling I walked to him. “Where’s the fun in that?!” Skipping away to the staircase and whispering to the men on top of the stairs, they quickly went down as I returned to the clown. “Come on we don’t have all day.” Leading to my office deeper into my home. The massive gold doors opened to reveal my business room. 

Harleen was sitting in the middle of the exquisitely expensive room. “Ah! You’re here! Shag, what would I do without you.” Exclaiming punching him on the shoulder, the doors shut behind Joker as I hopped on to my chair sitting particularly strange to most. 

Watching the scene unfold, Joker eyed me cautiously. “Puddin’! Ya here to save me! I love ya so much! Baby!” My ears were ready to fall off, “Harleen shut up!” My voice boomed over the room, “Slightly better, if ya kept going I was going to throw up. Now here comes the best part of the story.” I eyed Joker than the chair, he placed himself in the chair. Standing from my chair and circling in front of Harleen. “Ok now, you’re probably thinking, ‘hmmm why am I in a nice ass house in front of a 15-year-old crime boss like myself?’ well I’m going-well Harleen is going to do us that favor.” Turning my heel I re-level myself with her face. 

She shook with fear as I got closer to her, it clicked. “Dr. Harleen Quinzel, you are the doctor who took care and loved the Clown Prince over there. La-la lovely Dovey shit later Dr. Harleen Quinzel helps Joker get out, and continue Doc. Why did you really help him out?” Turning to met jokers face before sitting back into my chair. She shifted before gulping. “Harley.” Joker's voice was stern, she looked at the floor. 

“Today Junior! Speak puppy, speak!” I yell as she jumped at my voice. “Well Puddin’ ya see when I was helping you in the Asylum, and during one of-of our sessions I started getting sick.” Joker’s eyes widened, sitting forward. A smile came over my face, “Yes come on keep going, 7 months forward!” I place my chin on the chair waiting for the story to continue. “Puddin’ you said ya didn’t want any kids so when I got pregnant I ditched it and came back to ya baby!” He growled before I jumped in, “Where did ya leave her Harleen? Where did ya leave it? A fire station?” 

“No.”

“Oh, then an orphanage?” “No.”

“Then possibly a random doorstep?” “No! Stop!”

“Then where did you leave her Dr. Harleen Quinzel?! Where did you leave this perfectly and completely innocent baby in the dangerous streets of Gotham?!”

Silence followed, the air thick in tension. “Where did ya leave her Harley?” The Joker spoke up, even she didn’t meet his eyes. Finally, she spoke but never looked up, “I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.” Joker repeated himself, Ya know ya club, I may or may not have put the baby in one of the dumpsters before rejoining you at the Acid storage factory. When you fell in love with me baby.” 

Joker stood and looked away from the woman, I smile letting out a sigh. “Wasn’t that a lovely story! But, I know the sequel. Here sit down, I’ll let you know the ending. Sit Mr. Joker, please I insist.” I jump up and offer his chair with a glass of Jack, he takes it and sits. “Now let us wrap this up with a bow, Once upon a time a little girl was born, born in a very dangerous place but this baby believed in the trust of her beloved parents even though her father never known of her existence. But instead was left in a dumpster to die outside a Crime Bosses night club, until a druggy-acholic found her when he was dumpster diving for some heroine. He brought her home, not to love her and to take care of her. No, he saw something to raise into the perfect slave for any need he may have. No censor bars there sweetheart. Take that any way you want, or how dirty you want because it happened. When she was 7 she killed the horrid man, then she found someone to help her-” Shaggy had a sad look over his face, but met my eyes when I spoke, “He helped her grow and learn what happened to her, he helped me become the biggest Crime Boss there ever was. Even bigger than you Joker. The End! What a beautiful story don’t you think, Harleen? Well, that’s all I wanted. You can leave goodbye.” 

Walking out of the room and into the kitchen while my boys made sure Harleen left in one piece with Joker. “I wonder how it will go? How about you Shags?” He sat across from me as he handed me a drink, “Well by his reaction, I believe he will get rid of her by tomorrow or the next hour. How are you?” Chewing on the straw a muffled,” I’m fine, really actually. How about you, shagster?” He thought while standing next to me. 

“It was hard not to kill her right then and there but this plan of yours should work perfectly, it always does.” Patting my shoulder before the door sung its normal melody. “A lot sooner than expected.” He mumbled before the Joker came in and passed the henchmen. They detained him, “Hey. It’s okay to let him go. Come and sit. We have milkshakes and alcohol for all mental fun.” 

After they let him go he sat on the patted stool, “So, I’m guessin’ the story was bout you?” He finally spoke up after a short silence. I chuckled, raising my hands. “How’d ya guess? I thought I told the story for the plot twist.” I chuckle but mumble the last part. He chuckled too. Our eyes meet once again like the first time we meet, the same icy touch and the paleness of our skin made us right out of a comic book. 

“So, Ace. is that your real name?’“ 

“No Jack, It isn’t.” His eyes widened and stayed on me for a while. “How’d you--?” 

“I won’t tell anyone but 21 and Me. Man those ads always get me. But my name Y/n. After Shagster's mother. But people call me Crazy Ace”

[dudeclown]

my thoughts of the Gotham finale:

- I can NOT believe how dirty they did cam & david. like I know it’s supposed to b ten years later but recasting them (this is mostly abt Selina but anyway) after they spent five years and the majority of their childhood/teen years dedicated to these roles and this show and then not even having them in the series finale???? idk I’m salty

- the beginning nygmobblepot scenes had me so excited (ed holding the letter to his heart, the low(high) key flirting in the limo, all the promo shots for this episode) then j having literally nothing happening???? I don’t even mean romanticly like duh we all wanted a kiss but it was like they wrote storylines for the character then gave up on them mid episode.

- t h e m u s t a c h e

- baby barb. I’d die for her

- J killing Ecco???? wtf??? they literally talked abt how she was meant to b Harley then they give her two scenes and fucking kill her off in the most boring, quick, and unsatisfactory way possible?? not cool but go off ig

- the J & Batman “fight” scene. just disappointing n boring and not fair at all to either character’s story arc

- Bruce never being shown in the episode. kinda sucks tbh

- ik it’s the origin story so the ending isn’t supposed to be an end it’s j supposed to b the start of the story we all know but still the ending was j very :/ to me

idk maybe I’m j a cynical piece of shit but either way it’s j my opinion. I love this show so much and I adore all of the incredibly talented actors involved and I will miss it dearly even if I have some beef w some parts.

idk anyway, goodbye Gotham, it’s been a wild ride and I’ll dearly miss you <3

[tatlergazette-blog]

The Day Joker Saved Me From A Jersey City Pimp 

By Eiko La Boria 

For River Phoenix 

Based on a True Story 

 PROLOGUE

JERSEY CITY:  Much has been said about the contagious rage of the Joker, especially it’s potential of inspiring white males that have been bullied or are societal outcasts. Their good nature bludgeoned and discarded. But in Jersey City, white males should be the least of our worries, because rage has no color or sex or social class. Righteous rage can seep into the psyche of anyone that has been taken advantage of, oppressed, tormented, used and abused, treated like garbage or in my case, the attempt to be pimped. The concise effort of a wanna-be hustler to exploit me, have me work for weeks, only to try and keep my money and refuse to pay me, turn-me-out so to speak in the ways of this unapologetic boy’s town. Like Gotham, Jersey City has her share of villains, but in Jersey City they hide and are protected by the cloak of being city employees, community activists, pastors, influence peddlers, and do-gooders who really care about the poor, destitute, minorities, women, the middle class. Insert Joker’s laughter here.  Jersey City, like Gotham, is a place where what you see is hardly ever what you get.  Every story has endless angles. The wolves do not bother with sheep’s clothing. Greed is God! When you’re hurting the greater good more than you are producing it--that’s a problem--a big one. These are dangerous times in Jersey City. 

                                               ACT I 

The night before Joker arrived an ominous cloud hovered over New York City, creeping its way across the river and toward Jersey City. I was mesmerized by it’s forewarning. 

Jersey City had been preparing for months for Joker’s arrival. I was a part of the preparation. In August 2018, a contractor that I knew for his unique political aspirations, which were supposedly to help Hispanics, let’s call him Emilio, asked for my help in preparing a proposal for a project at the Loew’s Jersey Theatre in Journal Square. He told me that he was a subcontractor and that the electrical contractor, the main contractor, in charge of the project told him that it was a big project that was good for him, but that he needed to submit a proposal.  Emilio didn’t know how to write a proposal and needed help. English is his second language and he was not proficient in writing in English. He said that he could not pay me for writing the proposal. I was OK with that. I had no intention of charging him for writing the proposal anyway. Without a second thought I agreed to it. I thought this would be good for him, would help him grow his business and I said, “Why not?” I had also worked for a maintenance company for the past year and I knew how to write specifically for government, private and municipal proposals and bids. 

“This is a big project, it has a big budget, something like $ 40,000.00 and it can really help me out.”  he said. 

I met with Emilio, asked what he wanted the proposal to reflect and I wrote it up. The job required painting, replicating a steel awning, cleaning electrical sockets, pedestrian safety, removing, cleaning, shining and reinstalling the side panels of a marquee. I wrote it up. He got the job. He then said to me, 

“You know I don’t have any good people that I can rely on. I need help making sure the job moves ahead. I’d like you to work for me on site because I can not be there everyday and communicate with me, tell me what’s happening. I have to do other jobs. Can you help me?”

“Yes, I can help you.” I replied. 

“But I can only pay you $ 15.00 dollar an hour because of the budget and I need a lot of people there. It’s a big, big job.” he said. 

I didn't care about the hourly wage, he needed help and I wanted to help him. Besides money comes and goes, but experience and memories are forever.

“Is that the prevailing wage?” I asked. “There is a lot of specialized work in the proposal. It doesn’t matter to me, but make sure you know what the prevailing wage is, you may not be able to find professionals.” 

I looked up the prevailing wage for such a job and emailed it to him. It was $ 25.00 an hour, $ 10.00 less than he was offering. He advised that the electrical contractor told him to just pay everybody $ 15.00 dollars an hour, no matter what they did and that was what he was going to do. 

“But just so you know, I’m paying everybody at the end of the job, because that’s when the electrical contractor will pay me.” Emilio said.

“That’s fine, but you have to pay me in full.” I replied. 

“Yes, of course, I pay you everything. But you have to be there every day and tell me what is going on.” he replied. 

He accepted the job and hired me. I was there when he did the initial walk through of the Loew’s. I took notes for him, took pictures, and worked with the Loew’s Management to assure that everything they asked of us was done, especially the materials that were to be used. The protector of the Loew’s, let’s call him Harlin, was meticulous and finicky with his baby, he knew exactly what needed to be done, how it was to be done, and when . It was paramount to Harlin that everything he wanted done, be done to a T. It was during the initial walk through that I learned that this was all in preparation for the Warner Bros. film, Joker. 

In its heyday the Loew’s would have been Joker’s natural favorite hangout, it was one of the original wonder palaces erected in 1929. It was a center of entertainment and distractions, movies were just a part of the fun. It was a vaudeville paradise where residents would spend an entire Saturday or Sunday, hours of pleasure and spectacle, an extravaganza that captured the imagination of the young and old alike. 

“Joker! You’re kidding me!” I said. 

“It’s a Warner Bros. film with Joaquin Phoenix” he said. 

And when I heard the name Phoenix, bells went off in my head, I got weak in the knees, my heart raced, my eyes watered, the melody of chirping birds filled the air, a melancholy smile swept my face. My eyes enamored with thoughts of my first crush. Oh baby, like an unforgettable lover he still had an effect on me, he still had a hold. I went back in time, I was a teenager in my bedroom. Poster plastered walls. Joaquin is an exceptional actor, but his brother River was it for me. Growing up in an urban city, not many people understood my fascination with River but I couldn’t care less about their understanding. It was River!

In my basement, there is still a poster or two or three of River Phoenix. He’s one of my favorite actors of all time. When he died of a drug overdose on a dirty Hollywood sidewalk with Joaquin by his side, I wept for days. His death hurt me so much. It became a call of duty for me to do an exceptional job at the Loew’s. This was for River Phoenix’s baby brother whose middle name, Rafael, is my father’s name, and who was born in San Juan, Puerto Rico just like me. It mattered not that he would never know my name. Everything had to be perfect for Joaquin. 

On the first day, the job was shut down because the proper permits were not obtained. The crew consisted of me, Emilio’s uncle, and a high schooler. It was a no-go until the proper permits were submitted and approved. Although permits for the average Jersey City resident takes weeks if not months, all the necessary permits for this job were obtained in a few days. We went back to the Loew’s, Emilio, myself and Emilio’s uncle. The high schooler didn’t make it back, he got a higher paying job. 

“ It’s OK, we can do everything that needs to be done. We don’t need anyone else. We’re going to make a lot of money.” Emilio said. 

As Emilio said that, an uproarious deafening laugh spilled out of a car waiting at the red light. A big hearty cackle, the laughter just came coming and coming. The crazy laugh instantly made me think of the Joker.  It was eerie,

“Ooooooh oooooh ooooooh, aaaaaahhh aaaaaahhh aaaaahhhh, heeeee, heeeee, heeeee” 

 I could still hear it as the car raced past the green light and down Bergen Avenue. 

For the first two weeks, we worked on procuring the materials, removing the side panels of the Loew’s marquee and scraping the old peeling paint, assuring pedestrian safety as there were several teams working on the marquee, traveled to New York City for steel and cleaning hundreds of electrical sockets. The first two weeks was all the prep work and the days were long. Emilio hired another worker, named Dwayne, but after a few days, Dwayne told me, “This job is not paying right he’s paying us way below what we should be getting.” And just like the high schooler, Dwayne left for a higher paying job. I couldn’t leave. This was more than a job, it was an opportunity to do something for the brother of someone I adored. 

And then there were the influx of memories from the people strolling by, an elderly couple came up to me,

“Are you fixing the theatre, that’s so wonderful, I love this place.” said the elderly woman. 

“We are restoring the marquee for a movie.” I respond. 

“We met here about sixty years ago, we were both teenagers. It was love at first sight. We’ve been together ever since.” says the elderly man. “I wish you well with the job.”

“We’ll try our best, we want this to look just like it was built yesterday. We are hopeful that it will, we are working very hard.” I say. 

“Something tells me that your best is quite good. You have an aura, an energy, you will do great things here.” says the elderly woman. 

Just then, I noticed a butterfly landing on a traffic cone next to me. For me it was a sign, a sign that I was working toward something good, something that will be remembered for a long time. It was hope personified. A masterpiece in waiting. I was giving rebirth to a thing of beauty.  I took a picture. I took two. 

The couple kissed and smiled shyly at me, before continuing walking down Kennedy Blvd. I stared at them, until I could see them no more. 

About half an hour later, a loud and shiney Harley Davidson pulls up in front of the Journal Square Pub, next to the Loew’s.  A  tall and stocky biker, clad in head to toe leather with a bushy beard hops off. He’s hard to miss and the leather seemed to he speaking with his every step. He strolled over to me. Let’s call him Johnny. 

“Holy shit! What are you guys doing here, Oh man, you just blew my mind when I saw you guys working on the marquee. I use to hang out here in the 70’s man. I love this place” says Johnny.

“We’re restoring it, a lot of people are excited.” 

“I can’t tell you how many good times I had here. I mean I would just come and hang out for the entire day. I made so many friends here. Damn, have you been inside?”

“Yes, it’s grand.” 

“It's a fairy tale, you know what I mean. I can’t wait to see the marquee finished, it brings back so many great memories. Man, I gotta get a drink now, my fucking brains just blew out my head, you know what I mean. God bless.” 

And just like that he walked away and into the pub. I still smile when I see him in my mind’s eye. 

I quickly learned that not everyone was a fan of the Loew’s, the restoration, the fight for the theatre to remain alive. I was moving the railings to make a safe passage way for pedestrians as Emilio’s uncle was working on a lift. I see a thin white woman approaching me with a smile on her face. Let’s call her Beth. I smiled back, as I was sure that she was going to share with me some of her memories...I was getting used to strangers connecting with me because of my work on the theatre. 

She comes up to me and says, “Instead of fixing this marquee, why aren’t you getting rid of the homeless people that sleep everyday in front of this shithole. That’s what you should be fixing. I’m a taxpayer, I’ve been in Jersey City for five years and I’ve been walking past this dirty theatre and all the homeless for five years. You’re taking my money so that I can walk past the smell of piss every night.” Beth said. 

“I’m sorry ma’am, the homeless is not what I am fixing.” 

“Well, you should be. I am a taxpayer and this theatre is taking my money so that homeless people can just sleep in front of it. How is that right? How is me walking past homeless bums and smelling their shit right?” 

I just stare at her...I can’t find the words, I can actually, but if I say what I really want to say, things may escalate and at that moment I didn’t think that it was my place. 

“Well, I can certainly convey your message to the Loew’s Management.” 

“They should just close this disgusting place and put up a nice building, with some beautiful storefronts, that’s what the people around here really want. Why should I be speaking with you? You’re just a worker, I’m wasting my time.” she says. 

“Well, Ma’am, the homeless are people too, we just can’t get rid of them.” 

Then she breaks out in a boisterous laughter, she bends over, and continued her wild cackle. Pedestrians looked at her as they walked past. 

“Homeless are people too,” she says, mocking me, as she continues laughing uncontrollably. 

“Aha haaaa haaaa haaaa haaaaa haaaaa haaaa haaaaa ha…”

The laughter was loud and familiar. She turns around and continues her laughter as walks toward a shiny new building past the Loew’s. 

I continued working blissfully, with intent, everything that was asked of me I did. And I did so happily. I didn’t take another job while I was there. My complete focus was on making this marquee brand new. They could have asked me to remove every piece of gum from the sidewalk with a toothpick and I would have done it. I was on a mission. I was a soldier. 

At the end of the first two weeks, as we were  removing the safety railings from Kennedy Blvd and moving them to the basement, Emilio’s Uncle says:

“I’m glad it’s finally payday, it’s been a long two weeks.” 

“Are you getting paid today?” 

“Of course, it’s been two weeks.” 

Just then, Emilio arrived and his uncle shouts out to him, 

“You have my money?” 

Emilio’s eyes widened as he noticed my stare. To his chagrin, his uncle let the cat out of the bag. Emilio was going to pay his uncle, but not me. 

“Yeah! Yeah!, I have your money. Eiko, I forgot to tell you that I got some money from the electrical contractor and can pay you too. You don’t have to wait till the end of the job.”  Emilio said. 

I could’ve taken the money and run, but I didn’t.

Just then a group of teenagers from nearby Dickinson High School walked past and broke out into a group laughter. They couldn’t contain themselves. They were hugging each other, barely able to stand up from the laughter. 

“Aaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh hhhhaaaaaaa ooooooooohhhhhh heeeeeee” 

The laughter. The laughter was my friend. The laughter was warning me. 

                                       To be continued...

All pictures are property of Eiko La Boria -- Thank you for reading!

[awildkathasappeared]

The signature. Joker x reader.

A/N: This is my first ever Joker x reader. I hope you all enjoy and request more if you would like. 

Gotham at night is not the safest place to be. Especially when you're in 6 inch black heels and are heading to go see your sort-a kind-a soon to be ex-husband.

I met Joker when he was first making his debut in Gotham’s underworld. He opened a club, I was a newly twenty-one year old in desperate need of a job. When I walked into the job hiring fair at his new club and looked into his eyes, I knew I was hooked. A job turned into a romance and we were soon the most feared couple in Gotham’s underworld. When mobsters wanted to scare eachother, they told stories of The Joker and his Ace.

One year became two, two became five and time flew by with him, but all great things must come to an end.

I thought he would be happy. I thought nothing could separate us. But I was wrong. Any other couple would be ecstatic, A baby is supposed to be a good thing. But in his eyes it wasn’t.

In fear I ran, kept Adam, and raised him on the other side of Gotham. J tore the city apart, but he knew better than anyone that if I didn’t want to be found, I wouldn’t be. I changed my name, dyed my hair and ran with different crowds. Life was different than before, but wasn't that the point?

I haven't been to the narrows in five years, right before Adam was born. Its how I remembered though, dirty and run down. They only semi-nice thing is J’s club. The neon pink sign that read Wanderlust was the only thing illuminating the road. Every year, around the time I left, J gets the urge to look for me again, so I came for two reasons. To inform him that i am indeed alive and to get him to sign a few papers.

Like idiots, a year after we got together we decided to get married. Him under Joe Kerr and me as Delilah Stewart. Aren’t we smart?? I only remembered the drunken ceremony when Harvey and I filed and found out I already was.

Harvey was my newest fling that turned into something more. Of course I stayed in the criminal underworld, but under a different name, but with the same old pseudonyms.

I walk into Wanderlust with a white lace dress and black heels. A black leather jacket covering the top of my semi-see through dress. I immediately spot the green haired man sitting in his private booth, sipping his whiskey and coke….. Some things never change.

Walking to the entrance of the VIP section I see Frost standing guard. “Hey Frosty.” I smile. A shocked expressing washed over the man's face and i chuckle. “I thought you woulda missed me. I guess not.” I walk past a frozen frost and back to J.

I’m greeted in the golden booth by J and a female I haven’t seen before. Blonde, tall, slender….. J drops his glass and stares from his seat.

“We need to talk… now.”

“You’re alive..”

“And we need to talk.” I cross my arms and glance at the girl sitting next to him.

“Who’s that puddin’?” The girl asks. She has a high pitched Brooklyn accent and looks lost.

“Leave Harley” He commands, not taking his eyes off of me, like if he does, I’ll disappear. I Don’t blame him. I tend to do that.

“But Puddin’-.”

“NOW.” He yells and ‘Harley’ is on her feet and out the door in seconds.

The air grows even more tense, if that's even possible.

“So how’s business?” I ask snarkily, sitting down across from him.

“Don’t even.” He says. His surprise turns to anger and he leans back into his chair. “Where have you been? I’ve looked everywhere for you, killed hundreds because they had the same name, or mentioned you! And you show up like it’s funny?” At the point he’s on his feet and standing in front of me.

“Look Joker, I didn’t come here for you. I came for myself. I moved on and am living my life but i came for two reasons.” I stand up and am eye to eye, despite our height difference, with him. “Now stop looking for me and sign the damn paper.” I grab the paper out of my pocket and shove it to his chest. He takes a few steps back and reads it.

“Divorce papers?”

“Yeah, remember? I need you to sign them so I can get remarried.” I Huff and cross my arms.

“To who?” he yells.

“It doesn’t matter. Just sign it.”

“Who Y/N!”

“Harvey Dent! My fiance!” I yell, unable to hold it back.

“You’re Marrying that scared up Bastard?!”

“Yes! He’s nice to me and Adam loves him. He cares for both of us! Unlike some people.”

Joker sits down with a surprised expression on his face, mumbling the name “Adam”.

“Yes J. Adam. He’s my son. The one you didn’t want. Now sign the paper.”

J rises his hanging head. “Let me meet him. He’s my son.”

“No J. That's not a good idea.” I speak softly. “He doesn’t know you.”

A moment passes and no one speaks. The only sound is the music from the club behind us.

“.....no.. I can’t.” he mumbles.

“Why not!?” I yell, infuriated by his resistance.

“That’s my son and you’re my wife. That won’t change.” He relaxes and leans back on the booth seat.

“What about that Harley chick? What about her! You can marry her!” I try to convince him.

“Doll, I’d kill Harley a million times over for you.” He stands and grabs my chin, looking deep into my eyes. I start to feel what I did before. That drawn in, never wanting to leave, euphoric feeling.  

I tear myself away and shake my head. “So no signature?” i ask.

“No.”

“Fine. see you around J.” and like a flash i'm gone.

[provocativelyposedsloth]

Saved

Imagine the Joker and Harley taking you in and saving you from your abusive father 

Your POV

The rain was just starting to fall making the dirty streets shine in the moonlight; you were sitting in the alley behind The Smoking Gun while your father was inside drinking himself into stupor. He always dragged you along when he went out so he could "keep an eye on you" but really it was so he had someone to drag him home at the end of the night. You go to look at your watch when you see a door a little ways down open filling the alley with music from the club inside, and three people walk out. "come on puddin', why do we have to go home? The night is still young!" Says the woman as the group walks past you towards the street where a flashy purple car is parked. The other two men ignore her and continue to walk. The small sound of metal on concrete grabs your attention and you see that the woman had lost one of her rings. Without thinking you pick it up and start running towards the group to return it, but before you reach the woman one of the men turn around, grab you, and press the barrel of his gun to your head. "what do you think you're doing, huh?" you can feel the harsh hair of his beard on your cheek. "…I….you….you dropped this miss" your voice shakes as you unsteadily hold out the ring. "Oh Frost let her go, she's just trying to be a good Samaritan" the man's grip on you is released and you try to regain your composure as the woman walks towards you to collect the ring. You finally get a good look at her, and whatever little composure you had managed to muster up melts away as you are face to face with the infamous Harley Quinn. She grabs the ring and places it back on her pale finger "thanks sweetheart" she says smiling at you. But no matter how much you try you can't get any words out, you just stare at her and Joker, frozen in fear. "oh geez don't be scared kid, we won't bite" she tries to reassure you but it does little good. Then you hear you father drunkenly yell out your name from the back door of the bar. "Y/N! Get your ass over here, you worthless piece of garbage" This snaps you out of your trance and you turn to run to him when Harley grabs your arm, "hey is this guy bothering you?" "…..uh…no, it's my dad…I should go, I have to get him home" 

Harley's POV

As she turns to run towards that drunken fool you notice the angry bruise covering her left eye. "come on Harley, let's go home" Joker says as he opens the passenger side door for you. You get in, but can't take your eyes off the girl and her father, as she's struggling to walk him down the street. Joker gets in the car and as you start to drive away you flash your sappiest puppy dog eyes at him and say "hey puddin' don’t you think it's about time we start a family?" "WHOA, where is this coming from? We're busy enough as it is, I'm not letting a baby get in the way of my plans" he says. "Who said anything about a baby hun, what about that girl from tonight" "oh no, we're not collecting strays" he says "but puddin' you saw her face and you know that drunk must knock her around, she needs us. Just think we can raise her as our own, and she's old enough to take care of herself while we're gone. Come on, do it for me." you say trying to sound as persuasive as possible. Joker sighs and shakes his head "you know I can't say no to you" he says, flashing his metal capped teeth at you as he digs his phone out of his jacket pocket "hey Frost, go tail that girl who returned the ring, find out where she lives"

Your POV

You finally drag your father up the last few steps and into the apartment. "I know how to walk" he says as he pushes you down to the ground and stumbles to the couch. He collapses into the cushions and begins to snore as you pick yourself up and go to your room. Even though it's only a cheap mattress on the floor, after the night you’ve had it might as well be a tempurpedic. You pull the thin, moth eaten blanket over you and quickly drift into sleep. The next day is like any other, you wake up and make your sure your dad didn’t choke on his own vomit during the night, unfortunately he is fine and still sleeping soundly. You made breakfast and tried to wake him up but it was no use. You eat and go back up to your room to read and hours later you hear glass breaking in the kitchen. You hear your father's footsteps getting closer to your door and you brace yourself for what you know will happen next. The door flings open and you father yells "you were supposed to wake me up! I missed a whole day of work thanks to you" his hand connects hard with your face and you fall to the ground. Tears sting your eyes as the toe of his boot connects with you ribs. "I tried to wake you up! I swear" you cough up between pained breaths. He lifts you by your arms and slams you into the wall pinning you there, face to face he looks into your eyes, but you see none of the love that a father should have for his only daughter, only contempt. "you'll pay for this" he says coldly as he releases you and your feet drop back to the ground. He walks out of your room and you scramble to gather your things and get out before he come back, but you're too slow and just as you reach to doorway you see him coming down the hall with a chunky leather belt in hand. You make a run for the front door but he catches you and the belt makes contact with your back causing you to scream out in pain. The belt comes down again and again and after a while your shirt is in tatters, ripped apart from the sharp blows of the belt revealing scars old and new.

Finally, after what seemed like hours your father drops the belt and leaves you a bloody crumpled mess on the floor barely conscious. You try to get up, but you can't, you can hardly keep your eyes open when you hear a knock at the door. "Who is it?" you hear your father call out but there is no response then moments later you hear the door being forced open and your father gasps "…..What are you doing here….get…get out of my house" his voice is shaky and dripping with fear. "oh don't worry pal" a strange voice says "we're just here for the girl" he growls. "yeah where is she?" a familiar female voice says. Again you try to get up, but wince at the pain coming from your probably broken ribs. Harley's heels click on the tile as she comes to your room and rushes to your side "aw crap, I knew we should have come sooner. Are you okay sweetheart, don’t worry Harley's here, I got ya Y/N" she tries to help you up but no matter where she grabs you're met with a searing pain. "little help in here boys" she calls out, and Joker comes into the room "ooo that looks like it hurts, he really did a number on her huh?" he kneels down next to you and you can't help but feel afraid, but his hands are gentle and he scoops you up in his strong arms. He carries you to the living room where your father is on his knees in front of Frost with a familiar pistol pointed at his face. "wait till we're in the car and then take care of this piece of shit" Harley orders "wait" you murmur "do it now" you say, Joker smiles down at you "you heard the lady" he says and Frost pulls the trigger and your father's brains paint the wall behind him. You feel a rush of calm wash over you and a smile cracks across your face, he's finally gone you think, he can't hurt you anymore. Then you feel sick, you start to gag and turn your head as to not blow chunks all over Joker's fancy suit. Harley giggles and wipes your mouth with a towel from the kitchen "don’t worry doll face, happens to the best of us, now come on lets go home" you can't believe your ears but you're too tired to ask questions.  

Joker's POV

You try your best to drive carefully so you don't wake Y/N. Looking through the rear-view mirror you see Harley gently stroking Y/N's hair as she sleeps in her lap. You can't stop thinking about the way she smiled when Frost pulled the trigger, maybe this girl will fit into his and Harley's life. You had never really thought of having a family, but looking back at them in the back seat you can't help but smile at your girls.

Your POV

"Wake up hun, we're here" you hear Harley say, you open your eyes and try to ignore the pain as you slowly get out of the car, with help from Joker. "you think you can make it on your own?" he asks "yeah, I think so." Still Joker keeps his arm around your side just to make sure you stay upright. The three of you make your way up to the front door and you get your first glimpse of the Clown Prince of Crime's house. It was a modern style mansion on the bank of the Gotham River, across which you can see the illuminated skyline of Gotham against the inky black sky. Joker pulls a set of keys from his pocket and unlocks the front door and leads you inside, with Harley close behind. "I'll get the first aid kit, why don't you put her in the guest bedroom puddin" Harley says as she disappears down the hall. Joker leads you the other way towards a flight of stairs, you're already exhausted from the trip in from the car, you don't know if you will be able to make it up all those steps. As you begin to climb with the Joker close behind, you start to feel light headed but you keep going. Halfway up your vision begins to blur and you feel your legs go out from under you. You expect to hit the hard steps, but instead you feel the strong arms of The Joker wrap around you. Next thing you know you are lying down on a plush mattress with Harley sitting next to you fiddling with bottles and bandages. "Don’t worry Y/N I'll get you all fixed up" She draws a clear liquid into a syringe and gently ties a tourniquet around your arm and feels for a vein. "What's that?" you ask nervously "It's just a little something for the pain sweet heart"

Read part 2 here

https://arkhaminmate.tumblr.com/post/160135205501/saved-part-ii

[jokers-sweethearts]

Jokers Daughter Imagine: The Next Step

Request: (anon) Could you do one where the cp is dating jermone and he gets her pregnant and they birth happy about it but jermone freaks out at first a little.

//////

The music of the club was pulsating through you as you made your way to the bar. You needed a place to sit and just collect yourself. The bartender saw the bosses daughter and immediately started making his way over to you. As you waited you looked back at the dance floor filled, Harley dancing in her glass chamber and not too far over your father dealing wit a ‘client’ in the VIP booth. You sighed to yourself and a smile stretched over your face. Placing your hand on your stomach you thought about how even as they got older they never changed and remained the crazy clown couple you loved and gotham feared. The night was perfect… with just one thing missing with one thing left to do.

“What can I get ya darlin?” the bartender asked looking at you as he always did, fear and willing to please.

You felt a hand on your back as you opened your mouth to answer stopping you.

“She’ll have her usual martini, extra dirty” Jerome said as he took a seat next to you.

Your smile grew when you saw his loose red hair fall in front of his eyes. You pushed it behind his ear as you jumped up to give him a passionate kiss. The bartender stood frozen for a second, still not used to the sight of Jerome after all these years. You took advantage and turned back to the bar

“Actually I’ll have a water” he shook his head and obeyed your order.

“Water?” Jerome said in a condescending tone “C’mon let’s have fun tonight baby” he pressed his lips aggressively against yours. You melted into the kiss head swirling almost forgetting that you were on a mission this night.

“We have fun every night… or don’t you remember?” you teased him biting his lip to avoid getting lost in another kiss.

“Oh I never forget anything you do to me” Jerome laughed maniacally which made you fall even more in love with him. 

The moment was interrupted by the sound of the glass hitting the bar and you turned around relieved, taking a big gulp of your water. Jerome noticed the uneasiness in your movements and placed his hands on your hips running them up and down.

“Why don’t we call it an early night huh?” Jerome leaned in and played with your neck whispering in your ear.

You placed the empty glass down on the table feeling better and closed your eyes for a moment before turning back to him.

“That sounds perfect but…. It’s not exactly why you’re thinking” you noticed the confused look on Jerome’s face but grabbed his hand and started leading him through the crowd so he wouldn’t question anything.

Joker saw his daughter rapidly moving through the crowd and cleaned the blood off his razor getting up to follow her.

Jerome felt the firm grip on his shoulder and got ready to attack whoever was behind him. He made a fist and swung around to his the guy but it was caught in a pale palm. The Joker laughed loudly watching Jerome’s face change from pride to fear. You rolled your eyes as you turned around and saw this. 

“Dad stop we don’t” have time for this you said out of patience wanting to tell Jerome what was going on.

Joker didn’t let Jeromes fist out of his hand as he turned to face his daughter. He liked asserting his dominance over the kid when he got a chance and squeezed his hand. Jerome stood his ground and started to giggle like the lunatic he was, not wanting to give in.

“Where are you going in such a hurry princess? I barely got any time with you” the joker said with a bit of a pained expression on his face making you feel bad. Sometimes it pissed you off how mean your father was to Jerome still after all this time together, but it was sweet too. You’re dad was just jealous and you couldn’t help but smile, but tonight was too important.

“I’m sorry daddy” you let go of Jerome’s hand and went over to your father. When you wrapped your arms around him for a hug he released his grip on the red headed clown. “I’ll make it up to you I promise okay?”

Joker didn’t release his daughter when he felt her try and pull away. he wanted the hug to last as long as possible and he wanted Jerome to see it. Wanted him to see that he was still the main man in her life. Harley saw all this occurring and made her way over, knowing her husband was giving the boy trouble.

“Puddin!” she called out as she approached breaking the tension. “Let them go huh?”

You slipped out of your fathers grasp as your mother distracted him.

“If they go now then we get alone time right?” she kissed the nape of his neck. Joker growled while thinking.

“All right all right go” he waved his hand at you and Jerome. It was perfect timing because you could tell your lover was seething wanted to fight the Joker.

“thank you daddy!” you yelled as you grabbed Jeromes hand again and made a run for it to your car outside.

Harley could feel the knots in Jokers back as she rested her head, she started running her fingers up and down his spine. 

“You gotta be nicer to that kid, he’s not goin anywhere ya know puddin”.

“We don’t know that” joker said turning around planting a kiss on his queens lips. “I could still kill the little bastard and get my baby back”.

Harley pulled away from the kiss, lipstick smudged a bit just the way Joker liked it, she was smiling wide at him. “Oh yeah tough guy? What about when she has her own baby?” she tased.

“I’ll be fuckin damned” Joker snarled going in for another kiss.

You were quiet the whole way home, pushing Jerome’s hand away every time he tried to rub your leg or play with your hair. He was starting to get agitated gripping the steering wheel harder. You didn’t want to be this way but the closer you got to revealing what was going on made you more nervous. How do I tell him I’m carrying his baby? Does he want one? Are we ready? the questions swirled in your mind so fast you felt dizzy. You were beyond excited but how was he going to react?

When you guys got closer to the house you expected jerome to slow down but he went faster and faster until he bolted past the entrance to the driveway. 

“Jerome? What are you doing?” you asked surprised. You loved when he played games but tonight was not the night for it.

‘Why don’t you tell me what you’re doing babe?” he said without taking his eyes off the road. “The water at the bar? that was weird enough considering you usually drink like a  40 year old man!” 

“Hey!”

“And now you won’t let me touch you? Excuse you princess” he said in a condescending tone “but I am a modern day casanova!” 

“....Jerome...”

“What is going on?” he said and his tone was getting more and more serious. “What? You breaking up with me? Well I got news for you that’s never going to happen. I’ll never let you go ya here me?” 

“Of course now!” you matched his aggression.

“Then what?” he screamed as he raced around the corners going deeper into the city, you had no idea where he was headed. “You’re not pregnant or something are you?” 

His words hit you like a bat to the head. You fell back in your seat as your face got flushed and you went silent. Jerome noticed this and loosened his grip on the steering wheel. He fucked up and he knew it. It all made sense now.

“I’m pregnant Jerome” the words left your lips with no emotion. “Are you happy now?” 

Jerome began to felt something he never had before: weak, insecure, powerless. He had realized he had ruined what was supposed to be a beautiful moment between two people. The closest he was ever going to get to normal, not that he wanted normal but the look on your face was killing him. He wanted to make you feel better and laugh and he usually would. In this moment however it was like an out of body experience and he was starring at himself driving faster and faster. 

“I want this baby. I’m keeping it” yo finally got out defiantly.

Jerome still couldn’t speak, your words replayed in his head. How could he be a father? He liked being selfish and running around town with you wrecking havoc. He had killed his own mother and wanted to kill your father, how could he handle being a parent himself?

“I know this is a lot” you continued waiting for a reaction out of your lover. “If you don’t want to stay I understand, but I want this baby. I love you but I’ll understand” your own words stung as they left you. You didn’t really want to understand. You wanted it to be like your parents. They always managed well with a baby and loved it. You wanted Jerome to take this like your father did. In that moment your own happiness came into question and for a moment you wanted to be a little girl in your dads arms again instead of thinking about raising your own baby.

When Jerome heard you say those words he slammed on the breaks sending you forward slightly. He threw his arm across you to protect you from the sudden impact. His hand touched your stomach and both of you froze. Your words caught him off guard and he almost scoffed at them. ‘don’t want to stay’ he repeated to himself. 

“Are you serious?” he looked you dead in the eye for the first time since the club.

“Do I look like I’m joking?” you asked him stone faced. You opened up the car door and began walking, you needed air

Jerome’s hand lingered where you were just sitting, he had touched his baby for the first time. His adrenaline went wild and he jumped out of the car.

“(y/n) come back here!” he called out and you noticed something strange in his voice. but you kept walking

He picked up his pace until he caught up with you and grabbed your arm. You tried to rip it away but he held on tight and pulled you into him. He saw you had tearsrunning fown your face. When you saw the huge grin on his it only made you angrier

“Whya re you running away from me?” he said, his confusion insulted you.

“Why the fuck do you think? I was happy about this and happy to tell you, I don’t need you to rub it in that you don’t want the baby” you lashed out.

Jerome laughed and pulled you closer. His mood were harder to predict than your own. “Babe it’s not that. Not that at all”.

When Jerome felt your stomach he was overcome with numbness, but it was good. Like all the bad thoughts and unanswered questions disappeared and all that existed in that moment was him connecting to the life inside of you that was his.

“don’t fuck with me Jerome, I can’t take that anymore right now” you said harshly.

“I was just frustrated thinking you didn’t want me. I go crazy when I can’t touch you” his grip loosened on your arm and he began to caress you. “I don’t know why I acted like that but I never fuckin know why i do stuff. It’s part of my charm right?” he smiled and you couldn’t resist doing the same.

You both stood there looking into each others eyes. This was usual for the love you shared. Heated and in the moment passion followed by these somber, knowing looks. jerome took his hand off your arm and poked your stomch gently with his finger.

“That’s mine in there?” he asked needing more reassurance that this was reality and not one of his many dream lands.

You shook your head yes not able to speak yet, the night hadn’t gone as you planned but you’d do anything to keep Jerome with you.

“I just wanted us to be like my parents, share that love. I want our baby to grow up like I did”.

Jerome threw his head back and let our a roaring laugh, “Hell kid it beats how I grew up right?” you matched his laughter before leaned forward and resting your head on his chest listening to his heart beat.

Jerome took a moment to hold you and finally process what was happening. All his life he wanted to belong somewhere and fit in and make his own place. When he met you he knew your father wasn’t welcoming and would never accept him in his clown family. But now he was creating his own family. Something that was his, that he built a,, he owned, and he could control and protect. It was a strange sensation. Jerome never really gave anything a second thought, he just did as he pleased and as he wanted. Now he f was able to see things like he hadn’t before and didn’t know he was capable of, with a future.

“This means you’re not the clown princess anymore” he whispered in your ear.

You lifted your head from his chest and gave him a confused look.

“You’re the queen” he continued “and we’ll have our own little clown princess... or prince”.

“Well you’re right about that” you laughed, letting all the anxiety go “But try telling that first part to my dad...” that was going to be the hard part.

Jerome felt confidence flow through him, the thought of talking to the old man clown didn’t have the effect it used to. Now he was going to have his own clown baby and he thought he could conquer the world. He placed his hands on either side of your face and pulled you into a heavy kiss. He pulled away from your lips slightly when he got his fix.

“Oh I can’t wait”.

[jokers-sweethearts]

Jokers Daughter Imagine: Harleen

Request: @fanboyswhereare-you And for the Joker one, maybe he had a kid from another relationship and her and Harley have trouble getting along? Sorry if it's long, Is rather have one long one than spamming you ask box lmao.

/////

The storm raged over the parking lot as you sat in the car looking up at Arkham Asylum trying to work up the courage to go in. N matter how many times you did this, and at this point it was probably in the hundreds, it never got any easier. Being away from your father knowing he was locked up in here was bad enough but then going in and not even being able to feel his arms wrapped around you was worse. 

You grabbed the umbrella and took a deep breath before opening up the car door and venturing into the wild. You had your id, fake of course, and purse ready to be examined knowing the routine like the back of your hand. As you walked in the guards gave you the same dirty look they always did, raising an eyebrow to why a girl your age would keep coming to visit the Joker day in and day out. Little did they know and you just wanted to scream it at them sometimes.

Being escorted to the private room to see your father was always annoying, as if you didn’t know the way, but what helped was that on the way there all the madmen and criminals of Gotham gathered at their cage bars to see you. Unlike the guards they had dwelled deep within Gotham’s underworld and knew exactly who you were. They wanted a glimpse of the daughter of the Joker every day.

When you got the the door you knew your father was behind you were able to relax a little bit. The guard unlocked it and put a hand on your back to push you in, not wanting to keep the door open for long. He closed it and locked it loudly behind you. Your father was sat feet chained to the ground and arms locked in a straight jacket. His head shot up and eyes lit when he saw you standing there.

Joker wanted to trip out of the restraints and run over and pick up his daughter and spin her around. He wanted to hold her and run his fingers through her hair and get out of this hellhole. It took everything in him not to break his own bones to slither out of the jacket. 

You ran over to him smiling and jumped on his lap to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him close to you. You felt him rest his cheek on your shoulder and the struggle his arms were having to return the hug. It was bittersweet to know he couldn’t touch you but he wanted to.

“I missed you so much princess” he said in a deep and tired voice.

“Don’t be like that it’s only been a day” you said getting up and moving to the chair on the opposite side of the table.

Joker laughed, it felt good to smile genuinely instead of doing to intimidate the guards and being on the receiving end of the joke, it was like a heroin rush to him. He leaned across the table to be tentative to his girl.

“How is it in here daddy?” you whispered so the guards wouldn’t hear you addressing him as your father “Are they being horrible to you?”

Joker sighed flattered that his daughter worried about him, “No baby I’m okay. In fact...” he hesitated to say what was on the tip of his tongue while he let a malicious smile cover his face. Whatever he was thinking about pleased him. 

“In fact....” you said in a playful, mocking tone leaning forward to match his stance.

“Someone in here” he lingered on each word “has made it very tolerable” he continued to smile and closed his eyes rocking his head back and forth like a happy child.

You gave him a confused look not understanding what he meant. ‘Someone’ you thought to yourself, you thought you were the one that made him happy, made being in this place easier. You felt a strange sensation build up in your chest.

Joker saw his daughter not grasping the concept completely. He ran his tongue over his metal teeth pondering what to say.

“The psychiatrist they assigned to help me. Turns out she’s quite the looney tune herself” Joker cackled so loudly you knew it was going to send shivers down the spine of the guards.

“So what?” you said aggressively. When you heard that it was a she, you knew what that meant. It hurt. “Now that you got her you don’t need me?” your shoulders rose with tension and you leaned back in your seat.

Jokers upper lip quivered like a wild tiger snarling at it’s young. “Don’t talk to me like that” he said matching your aggression.

You looked down at your feet crossing your arms, letting him know his you couldn’t say what you felt you were going to show it. Joker hated seeing you closed off to him, that was the last thing the two of you needed while he was locked up in there. It meant he couldn’t swipe you off your feet with flowers and kisses and make you forgive him. 

“I know you inherited some of my crazy baby, but that is just insanity. I need you more than anything” he said in a softer voice.

“Then what’s the use of this doctor?” 

“oh princess princess princess.... you know daddy would do anything to get back to you huh?” he said and his condescending tone bothered you, but his words were exactly what you wanted to hear.

“Yes” you looked up at him giving him wide eyes and a pout knowing he could never resist those.

“Well I’m doing anything. I need help from the inside to get out of here, right?” he didn’t give you time to answer before he continued. “Just some more time with the doctor, and she will give me all I need to come home to you”.

Joker saw his daughters eyes wander around the room contemplating what to say, he knew it was a lot, but what he said would go no matter what you said. That’s how it worked and that’s how he liked it. He didn’t like to see you upset, but he was convinced he knew best for you.. and everyone and everything for that matter.

After a few moments of silence you looked him deep in the eyes, “Promise?” 

Joker bowed his head before you with strands of green hair falling down, “Promise”.

But there was still something burning in your chest that you had to soothe, “And promise you’re just using her and you’ll forget about her when you get out?” you asked your father with hungry eyes.

Joker lifted his head up to match you. His face went serious, like you had never seen it before. There was a slight twitch of his eyelid before he closed his eyes for longer than usual. 

“Promise” he said not taking his eyes off you, there was something unnerving about it but you let it slide because you were curious and had more questions.

“So what’s her name?”  you asked and saw your fathers eyes jolt to the side of his head to look at something behind you. 

You heard the doors unlock and turned around to see a blonde woman walk in. Glasses and files all ready, that must be her. 

“Ahh Dr. Harleen Quinzel.....” he slithered her name off his tongue like a snake. Giving you your answer. “You’re early”.

When Harleen saw you sitting before her she became equally fascinated and intimidated. She had just laid eyes on you for the first time but she already felt the love she had for your father. She approached you reaching her hand out for a shake, like the three of you were normal citizens.

“Ms Quinzel please meet-”

“(y/n)” Harleen cut Joker off, her liberalness with that made you uneasy. “Your father has told me so much about you” she grabbed your hand from your side when you didn’t raise it and started shaking it. Like she was a crazy fan meeting their favorite rock star.

You turned around and gave your father an angry glare, asking with your eyes why he was talking about you. He raised his non existent eyebrows and mouthed the words ‘i love you’. You rolled your eyes and turned back to Harleen and ripped your hand out of hers.

“We’re in the middle of talking” you said coldly.

“I was hoping I could join the two of you so we could... “ she bit her bottom lip and you couldn’t tell if he was excited to say the next word or scared. “...get to know each other!”

Just her asking that, feeling that she was in a position to ask that, made your skin crawl. You turned back to find your father just as eager for a response as Harleen was. You scoffed to the disappointment of both of them.

“I think I should just be leaving”. you said marching towards the door and knocking on it to let the guard know you were ready to get out. You heard the chains on your fathers feet rattle as he tried to get up calling your name but you didn’t stop. 

You marched towards the front entrance faster than the guard did. Usually there were tears streaming down your face and barely being able to pull yourself away. You grabbed your purse and id from the front desk and basically ran back to your car. You weren’t jealous, you were too mad to be jealous, that would come later at home.  You wanted to get into your car and drive off and forget that it happened but the other part of you, the more malicious part wanted to wait. To attack her when she came out, find her car and follow her home to burn her place down, but more than anything you just had a few words for her. Words that would hopefully but the fire in her eyes right out.

You wound up waiting hours and hours until nightfall. Watching all the employees waiting until the blonde doctor finally emerged with a skip in her step. You kept close to the shadows avoiding the parking lot lights until you saw her at her car. 

“Hey” you said in the most intimidating voice you could muster, expecting to startle her but she didn’t even flinch. She turned around and giggled at you which was infuriating. 

“Oh sweetheart you can’t scare me!” she said like the two of you were old friends.

“I’m not your sweetheart”.

“Oh but you are your daddy’s. And your daddy is very important to me” she spoke with such ease you didn’t know what to make of it all. “I hope that one day we can get along. I don’t plan to ever leave your father. “ she reached up to try and touch you but you stepped away, watching your plan unfold. “and I never want to leave you. I want to love you like my own. Anything that your father loves I welcome to my life”.

Something other than anger started to boil in you. She could never understand. Your father was all you had. No mother no nothing. he was always there and you were always his girl. The thought of even being replaced or a part of your father not being yours anymore hurt like hell. You didn’t want a new mother, you didn’t want your world to change, you just wanted your dad back home and everything back to normal. Before Harleen ever got there.

“Listen blondie” you poked her chest with your finger in a playful manner before in an instant taking both hands and pushing her back against her car “I’m not your daughter. I never will be. Stay away from my family. He’s not capable of loving you. He never will. He only loves himself and I a a part of him. It’s just the two of us got that?” you didn’t even wait for her to respond before you speed walked back to your car through all the shadows you came from. 

You just wanted to get home and curl up in your fathers bed and pretend like it didn’t feel as though your world was falling apart. You couldn’t deny that the idea of having a mother, a completed family like all those normal people was intoxicating. But no one could ever appreciate your father. No one could ever give the loyalty and love he needed. 

As the days dragged on and your father returned as he always did from his stints at Arkham, you could relax and be happy thing were back just as he left them. It was the two of you out in the world again and nothing could stop you. Joker realized how much himself and his daughter needed bonding time, so he did what he always did when things were tense. He got the purple lamborghini out and took her for a drive at night. They didn’t need to say anything to each other, just being with each other on the road was enough.

Just as he was about to lean over and kiss your forehead you were both taken a back by a roaring sound behind the car. You turned around to see out the back window and Joker adjusted the rear view to see. You couldn’t believe what was fast approaching. It was the doctor. Harleen. You turned around to face front with your jaw dropped.

“daddy?” you said and he knww you were going to be furious with him. “What the hell is she doing?”

“Princess I...”

“NO I mean what is she doing? You told me no you promised me we could forget”

“Hey I didn’t ask the chick to track us down did i?” Joker said laughing to try and calm you down.

“I don’t know, I can’t trust what you say anymore can i?”

“Baby doll please don’t me like tha-”He was interrupted by the yelling outside of his window. Harleen was right next to the drivers side screaming at him to pull over. he tried to ignore she was there at all but he was having both sides of his head burned into from the two girls.

“okay baby you want the truth?” he aid in a voice that almost sound like an average joe “It was more than just therapy sessions in arkham”.

You didn’t know how to process what you were hearing. You didn’t think it was possible that the man you loved and confided in more than anyone, the only person, would lie to you like that You shouldn’t have blown it off in arkham when you knew something was wrong. Just as you were going to open your mouth to speak your father slammed on the breaks and threw his arm across you to keep you from bashing your head on the windshield. 

“Oh you pain in the ass” he said with a grin stretched over his face. It freaked you out, he was saying it in a playful manner like he was enjoying this. 

Harleen got off her motorcycle that she had crashed on the ground and started walking towards the car.

“Daddy can we please just go?” you begged with pain in your voice.

Joker turned off the ignition and turned to you but didn’t look at you. 

“baby listen. You are the center of my world and I love you. Love you so much you make me crazy. but....”

“you want a mother too” you blurted out remembering Harleens words about taking on that role.

“well not exactly I mean I think it’d be nice for you to have a mother Im fine without a mother I ha one before.. well... i think.. didn’t like it probably killed her I was thinking more aof a romantic thing for her and I and you can do the mother thing and -”

“DAD!” you screamed at him loud enough for the whole city to hear so he would start rambling, he always did that when he was nervous.  and he only got nervous when he thought he pissed you off. “”I dont care about having a mother I dont need one. But she can’t be loyal to you. How can she? She’s on the side with batman and the cops shes a doctor she will just manipulate you and-”

“Shhhh shhhh Joker put his finger up to your lips. Now you were the one acting neurotic with your thoughts, A trait you picked up from him.

“Baby she helped bring me back to you. “ joker was giving in to what he felt back in arkham.. He didn’t want to fight it. he liked it. ”if she didn’t care about you or me she would have kept me in there all to herself” he looked up and saw Harleen standing there waiting patiently.

You couldn’t deny the look in your fathers eyes. He was happy, a happiness you hadn’t seen before in him. A happiness a daughter couldn’t give a father, it was reserved for the other woman in his life. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, yes you were jealous he was giving his attention to someone else. But now on top of that you felt guilt. Guilt for trying to keep him away from the happiness he was basking in now. 

“try to think of it this way baby, you know how hard I am on the people you bring home to date? huh?” you took your face in both his hands and kissed your forehead.

“yeah?” you said understanding the comparison he was about to make. “I know what youre feeling but you always tell me that they cant take my place so think of it like this.” he pulled your face into his and tightened his grip to show how serious he was “no one” he growled “no one will take your palce.” you nodded through his grip and he released you taking a deep breath. “now let daddy have some fun and take care of this”.

You watched as your father stepped out of the car and approached her, you still wanted to rip her hair out but the look on her face was making you pity her even more. Maybe you werent giving your father enough credit. If she could convince a man like him to change his mind maybe you should give it a chance. 

You stepped out of the car and held onto the door for comfort, not approaching them. They both turned to you and Harleen began to walk  towards you ignoring jokers hand trying to stop her.

“(y/n) I really just want to”

“Shhh” you stopped her “I know blah blah love and all that” she stood there worried so you let out a tiny giggle to make her feel better. that small gesture had her over the moon and her face lit up with excitement.  “You really care about my father?”

She nodded yes unsure of if she should say anything, she finally let out a silent “Yes” before blinking rapidly an d saying it more loud and clear “yes”>”

“I want to believe you” Joker began walking over and placing a hand on Harleen’s back

“How do I prove it?” she said with determination, ready to do anything.

“The ultimate test. The oath.” you said looking over at your father.

The Joker smiled and couldn’t contain his cackling. He knew exactly what you were talking about and his laughter reassured you he agreed.

“Get in the car” he said.

Driving through gotham with the three of you in the car, your nerves were shot but you were fascinated by the looks your father and Harleen were giving each other. Was it right? Was it okay to be happy? You didn’t have answers to your questions but when you saw the reflection of the neon green letters on the windshield of the car, your heart began to bet normally again. You were about to find out is she could really love your father.. and you. The answer would change your life.