#likely because harley is reacting in a way she expects
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batmanrogues-scenarios · 1 year ago
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ok how about the gotham sirens(and anyone else you like) with an S/O who has unconventional way of reacting to dangerous situations like lets say that when they first met the sirens kidnapped the S/O but all S/O did when they came to was ask for food and go to sleep or S/O escapes just to get some food but comes back and ties themselves back up again
I honesty love when characters do that.
Kidnapped Y/N Just Chills
Catwoman
She said they're not her guest so they shouldn't expect anything from her and to not make too much noise.
She went to the city, leaving them bounded, knowing they won't break through it.
When she came back she saw food in trash can that she didn't eat. But Y/N is still in the same place.
"Want to explain it to me?"
"Oh I called food when you weren't here. Sorry I was just really hungry. Got your ropes back though so don't worry"
Honesty speechless.
When she gets money tells them to get out.
Even when dating them she can't believe it happened.
Harley Quinn
Got so angry when they run away. It was supposed to be her first kidnapping by herself but she blew it.
Just throws stuff around and gets ice cream while watching TV.
Then doors open and her victim walks in saying they just went for food.
This little-!
She starts strangling them. How dare they make this to her!
Didn't kill them because she still wants kidnapping to success and get money.
Annoyed afterwards but with time she does finds it funny.
Would talk about it like an anecdote when they started dating.
"Hey babe, remember when I kidnapped you and then almost strangled you? Good times."
Poison Ivy
Supringly chill. If she gives them some fruits from plants and Y/N falls asleep she just sits back.
Most relaxed kidnapping she had.
Y/N might ask some questions about plants which she anserws soon they're just having normal conversation.
Invites them again after she gets money.
Isn't mist proud of kidnapping her S/O but she never did that again.
Mad Hatter
Got distressed when they run away, how could they do it? He just wanted his Alice to spend time with him.
Just cries until they walk in and sit back in the chair.
Jumps to hug them asking where they have been.
Dumbfounded? They went for dinner? He could have prepared them something!... then again most of his food here are sweets.
Well at least now they can have dessert.
Thinks it's a sigh they belong together.
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like-rain-or-confetti · 2 years ago
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how would the rouges react to a mad scientist type villian s/o who re-animates the dead ? kind of like a dr. frankenstein or herbert west type character lol
The Mad Scientist
Black Mask: Ew. Ew. Ew- and by the way...ew. You know, when he kills people- he expects them to stay dead. Not since you came on the scene. Nope! He'll see Jerry mindlessly wandering because your stupid ass couldn't leave a dead person alone! You give him the creeps and very few times will be actually be okay with you stealing dead bodies to reanimated them. I don't see a relation budding with him but hey he might come around after many many years?
The Riddler: Okay so he tries not to gag and he tries to be supportive but he can only handle being around you when you've cleaned up and you aren't anywhere near dead bodies. It was definitely too much when you asked him not to damage the bodies of those he challenged with his riddles and traps. First of all- no, get your own hostages! Secondly, he's trying not to gag. He can handle dead bodies to an extent when they're on a medical examiners table or dead due to his actions. He CANNOT handle you elbows deep in someone's stomach cavity because your 'work' doesnt need their liver that just so happens to be damaged beyond repair.
Harley Quinn: To her, its like you're performing autopsies. For her associates- your working is disturbing af. Meanwhile she doesn't bat an eye. She even taunts her fellow rogues with your creations. When your not looking she'll be kicking them and shit. When you catch her, she pouts because you're pissed at her for damaging your hard work. She wants to watch you make an army and will even get a hold of a few dead bodies she think would be great assets for you.
Victor Zsasz: He has no shame nor any fucks to give. He'll come in eating a slice of pepperoni pizza as he watches you work. You end up having to ask him to take a step back incase any pizza gets into the dead body you currently have open. "Want a bite?" He asks offering you his pizza. "I'm a bit...elbows deep right now, Victor." You replied. "I'll feed it to you- open up!" This is smart people shit that he knows he cannot do. Mind control? No problems but this. Nope. Never in a million years. He isn't a miracle worker. You are though and he's proud of you.
Mad Hatter: Has a very basic understanding of death when not doing very well. So if these people are up and walking around then they simply can't be dead. Now he absolutely does have the capacity to understand when his conditions aren't fogging his mind and it scares him. He's scared they'll hurt him or they'll hurt you and really just bounces between the two. Any other time that he's not himself, he'll quite literally walk around your work and have no idea that they're actually dead but think they're instead transcended into stronger beings though mindless.
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bmfm-charlinnie · 1 year ago
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What are your thoughts on harley? Bc a lot of people question if Vinnie feelings for Charley are really genuine bc of what happened.
I actually like Harley a lot and thought she was a great character ( I feel like for a show that’s target audience was little boys, the writers did a great job of creating badass female characters with their own objectives )
Although it’s not stated by how many years, Harley is canonically a bit older than Vinnie, and ‘Once Upon a Time on Mars’ places him at about 18 during its events ( he is canonically 21 when he and the bros first land on earth and meet Charley ). He is young and eager to please and anxious to make a good impression. He catches Harley’s eye, and he develops a strong crush on her.
I don’t think what Vinnie and Harley had was love. Their time together was too short for it to really grow into anything, and it was based more on a mutual physical attraction ( notice how many times Harley refers to Vinnie’s looks, and how Vinnie reacts to the idea of her seeing his mutilated face ).
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While Harley was probably the first girl he felt a really strong connection to and still wants to make Mace pay for kidnapping her, he’s written as is he has moved on and doesn’t expect to ever find her. In the episode where Charley takes Vinnie’s wallet, there is a brief moment where we see a flash of it open on the floor and there are some pictures of other female mice in there. I doubt he would have those if his heart was still set on Harley.
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I know a lot of people don’t consider much of the 2006 series canon because it directly contradicts much of the original series, but when Harley returns she has to literally brainwash Vinnie to keep him by her side- he doesn’t go with her willingly. And it’s literally Charley being in danger and screaming that snaps him out of his brainwash fog long enough to rescue them both. The episode was definitely meant to tie up the loose ends of what happened to Harley. And while the episode ends with the question of whether or not she died, either way there is the realization she can’t be with Vinnie, for many reasons. It’s bittersweet, but at least it closes that chapter.
Do I think Vinnie is projecting old feelings for Harley onto Charley? No, I don’t. He probably sees some similarities between the two, but it ends there. Whereas the attraction between Harley and Vinnie was mutual from the get-go, it definitely doesn’t start out that way with Charley, who either rebuffs him or has a quick and sharp retort for his egocentric self-compliments. With Harley ( and probably the other girls he’s chased ) he easily won them over with his bravado and attractiveness. With Charley he has to earn her affections, and it’s his loyalty to his friends and noble heart that wins her over. Likewise, over-time his attitude towards her shifts from just being a conquest to win favor from to someone he feels strongly for and wants to protect. He also probably fears ‘failing’ Charley the same way he probably feels he failed Harley ( think of how he reacted when he was in that jail cell when Limburger made threats towards Charley ).
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Also, Vinnie was visibly crushed in ‘Back to Mars’ when he realized it meant leaving Charley behind and possibly never seeing her again.
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I realize this went on pretty long, but to cut to the chase, I don’t think Vinnie is projecting old feelings for Harley onto Charley. Harley is a chapter of his life that is closed, and their relationship was built on physical attraction and they weren’t together long enough for it to develop into something more. With Charley, Vinnie has to earn her affections, and their feelings for one another grow naturally over the course of time and make their bond stronger.
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jeevikweek · 1 year ago
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messing around with concepts for daze harley stuff remember her? lol
Your name is DAISY HARLEY-STRIDER but most people opt to call you DAZE because to be honest it sounds cooler. You have a fascination with the INDIE WEB and code your own website on a platform called LEOCITIES. Unsurprisingly you detest using SOCIAL MEDIA and at this point you only use it to keep up with your FRIENDS and get info about your LATEST OBSESSIONS. You are currently in the process of waiting for an ONLINE THERAPY APPOINTMENT because you have ISSUES or something. Honestly you don't get it sure your PARENTS are getting DIVORCED but you don't see how this has anything to do with YOU. -- genuineTotality [GT] joined babaraUrsari [BU]'s video call -- BABARA: Now Y don't we start off with something easY? BABARA: Y don't You tell me a little bit about Your experience growing up with Your particular familY? DAZE: o uh... DAZE: that's kinda not easy DAZE: but i can try! BABARA: You don't need to have it all right awaY. BABARA: How about starting with a memorY You relate with both Your parents? You honestly flinch a little at that. Geez, you know you're in therapy for a reason but does she have to start pushing your buttons already? DAZE: oh haha yeah DAZE: well i was like 12 i think and mom and dad were taking me out to a ren fair or something like that BABARA: Did You like going to the fair? DAZE: o yeah ofc it was always something we did DAZE: tho as i got older it shifted from being the three of us to just a me and dad thing DAZE: anyways we were at the fair and someone noticed dad BABARA: Noticed him how? Ugh DAZE: well i mean he didn't exactly make it subtle DAZE: dad's always been fine with being recognized as a creator BABARA: How did You feel about that? DAZE: fine i guess but mom never liked it DAZE: mom always wanted to be seen as a person never as this deified myth Oh man not even five minutes in and we're already getting into the MEATY DIVORCE JUICES this is about exactly what you were expecting. This'll be a PIECE OF CAKE you're sure of it, all you have to do is show her that you're FINE and you DON'T CARE and you'll be out of here in no time. BABARA: So back to the ren fair. BABARA: What exactlY happened with this person noticing Your father? DAZE: o right dad allowed them to take a picture with the genuine Knight of Time DAZE: and mom got really upset because he was "blowing our cover" and she wanted to not have any sort of celebrity presence BABARA: How did Your dad react? DAZE: the way he always does You start to explain the intricacies of STRIDER EMOTIONAL AVOIDANCE. The way your father (and UNCLE DIRK for that matter) block any attempts to have a GENUINE CONVERSATION as if they were parrying a bullets with one of their SICK ASS SWORDS (their term for it not yours). And how this had always been an issue between your GUARDIANS. BABARA: What about You though Daze? What did You do? DAZE: i didn't do anything DAZE: i don't think it really matters cause i wasn't apart of the fight BABARA: But You were in the middle of it? BABARA: You were the reason theY were there in the first place. BABARA: I think theY were both doing what theY did because of you. BABARA: And You might be plaYing a bigger role here than You think. Oh.
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the-firebird69 · 2 years ago
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Watch "The Widows Son - A Brothers & Bonds Short Film" on YouTube
youtube
Hes wearing my modified went with ring saying he's God saying that my wife is a widow which is stupid exposing more of his a****** clones and riding a Harley Davidson and a particular one which is stupid. And it's dumb insignia for Ontario because he's going up to kazzer video shoot tomorrow to try and grab my granddaddy and fails because he wants to grab me to hold hostage to take over the presidency and he says he's already doing it I guess he wants to actually physically kidnap me and he's been trying to, with the b is in reference to his asinine pin is supposedly held a nanobot of his but that's not his work and it's not his bot and will and Bill are trying and failed and supposedly they did something to the bag so they did not. And he's an idiot, and it shows that he's threatening granddaddy who's Biden and he's trying to threaten me for the presidency and it's ridiculous but secret service should make a note this is what the idiots doing in this video proves it. He says this kind of thing all the time and it's hardly cryptic and it is the rantings of a psychotic murderer and he's not a killer he's a murderer means that he hurts people that are innocent and he harms people in a way that is useless and that's usually what they differentiate it was and he also murders them and way they usually they come back.
I've got another story about this prick is that in banning in Beaumont and Brad can back me up on it said that night he's like posing as a Russian guy or something and I was going to attack him and harm him badly and tears throat out and he was having me do it and his egging bread on to punch me and you can hear him screaming and saying stupid s*** and Brad I got done held him down and headlock until and showed him I said look I can take you out and I let him go and it wasn't him that was a problem because he'd stop me from doing that to Trump and Trump wanted him to because he's saying that I didn't stop him from blabbing and that's the message and then he turned into neo the next day and Brad got it and I told it to him and left and the place is a disaster no but it was a nightmare and what he means my neo is he takes of the matrix supposedly and all this s*** but really it's near Earth object he's talking about taking over the stone chips and probably the saucers and that's what he means and he mentioned before and he meant to Stone ship she was driving around and the fleet that was destroyed and he meets it again so he's an a****** telling everybody what it's up to and he expects people not to try and stop him because he looks a little cheesy kind of looks like Terry who looks like Dan from the castle house and it's supposed to be cheese man like a lady he was kind of demented and not very harmful takes him to get food and stuff so it's code as simple and easy to read, and it's real and that's reacted on and this is enough evidence for the secret service to get a start
Zues Hera
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zorilleerrant · 1 year ago
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We do see this in canon some, where Jason tries to be calm and collected most of the time and just loses it when someone is hurting kids, but Jason is really the only one where exploring his PTSD is a big topic in canon. For other characters, it's more implicit, when people things that step too close to their own foundational traumas. Bruce reacting to gun muggings, Dick reacting to falling from high places, Cass reacting to people being forced into the position of a weapon/soldier. (Generally this is for narrative parallels but it works in a similar way to actual PTSD.)
Structurally, though, I think the only ones who would have this pattern of trauma would be the ones who are behind the scenes, directing people and dealing with aftermath, but not themselves fighting. It would make sense to write Babs and Alfred having similar experiences, because they can see everything happening, but they aren't usually out there. And of course you can always write it with other characters that just are emergency workers, like Leslie, Harley in some settings, EMT!Bernard, etc. (We don't seem to have a lot of those in the canon or the fanon.)
I know there's a lot of pushback against comparing the Bats to the military, but it's important to remember that causing injury to (and especially killing) other human beings is itself traumatic, in both similar and different ways to seeing people hurt. (This applies to anyone the perpetrator thinks of as people, so would generally apply to humanoid aliens etc. A fascist who genuinely thinks their victims aren't really people might be fine killing metahumans or whatever, but evidence suggests the statement of belief is stronger than the actual belief in most cases, so there's still trauma. Even people who genuinely have ASPD experience some trauma.) So the pattern that would emerge would be more similar to soldiers, bodyguards that encounter violence a lot, or community watch groups in dangerous areas. You do have them believing philosophically in what they're doing, so it wouldn't be as traumatic as simply being forced into combat, but there's always trauma from interpersonal violence.
What matches the canon narrative here is a lot of these feelings being sublimated into guilt, generally expressed as guilt over failing people, accidentally hurting people who weren't doing anything, seeing their loved ones in danger, etc. and all of those things definitely are traumatic. But I think most of the Batfam would also refuse to confront the fact that hurting people, even when necessary for self-defense, even in an effort to protect the community, is very dangerous to mental health. (Alfred is probably the only one willing to admit this, because I assume he's gone to therapy for his war trauma.) So when they see the faces of their victims, they convince themselves they're all upset over other things. They probably chalk it up to fear for their own safety or each other's safety a lot of the time.
One of the biggest things that helps in the wake of trauma, including ongoing trauma, is support from other people, and there's also a lot to be said for being able to talk to people with similar experiences. The Justice League probably enforces group therapy sessions about what they see. The Bats don't seem like they'd do something like that - Babs would make the Birds of Prey do it because she knows it's objectively helpful while exempting herself - but they do also end up having half-silent heart to hearts a lot, even in canon, so I think they'd end up leaning on each other a lot more than they realize until one of them goes away for an extended period of time. Validating each other's trauma and acknowledging that it's genuinely a fucked up thing that's it's normal to be upset over goes a long way, though.
Now, it's still Gotham (or Bludhaven or what have you), so they would definitely encounter some of these instances in civilian guise, and people who know them/the general public would expect them to react like some rando. Their schools, workplaces, local charity organizations, etc. would send them to therapy on the assumption that they don't see this a lot. And, while they couldn't say what they see in costume, they'd have an opportunity to get a lot off their chests. Which would probably lead to a lot of notes on the part of these various therapists that they're more sensitive to injury and violence than the average person.
*busts down your doors* HEY! Long ask for ya
okay so I was rereading your fic where EMS showed up because Dick couldn’t flip on the trampoline (rip) and it got me thinking about routine trauma.
So here’s the thing: I am not EMS. I know three people who are EMS, but my extent of EMS experience comes from one (1) ride along and lurking on EMS subreddits. Those guys are a hoot. Great memes. Anyways.
A comment stuck out to me: “You haven’t truly lived the job until you’re eating a gas station burrito next to a dead body”. I’ve seen a bunch like that. Nonchalance and dark humor because well, that’s their job. Gore is the norm. Sure, depending on the area, your usual calls might just be lift assists, but other areas are neck deep in gang violence and violent crime.
A pretty common post on that subreddit is also, sadly, “I just got a call that’s never bothered me before but all of a sudden I’m broken” or “I’ve never had a problem running this type of call before but all of a sudden it just hit me.” Delayed trauma is a bitch. Someone pointed out that if a civilian saw a fatal car accident with multiple corpses, they’d be in therapy and given support and it’d be a huge deal. With EMS, they’re just expected to deal with it. (EMS mental health is getting better- there are helplines and resources and first responder focused therapies- but it’s still a developing field)
ANYWAYS, now that I’ve given you a crash course on the EMS mental health crisis (someone should really write a feature on EMS in Gotham those fuckers would be crazy and I love them already), my point is, how would this apply to the bats? Seeing bodies is treated as very much the norm to them, but do you think it ever just… catches up? The impact of seeing corpses day after day? Do you think they have to fake being fine and tough during those times because well, “everybody else in the family is fine with it, I’m not going to be a liability/burden/weak/etc”
Do you think Bruce, the goddamn batman, who shouldn’t be ruffled by anything, ever just feels something crack inside when he looks at a little boy who could have grown up healthy and strong like his Jason, had (Bruce) someone been there for him? and then he can’t work cases with kids for a week?
This is such an excellent ask, thank you so much for gracing my inbox with it!
It's a very good question. I'm also on a lot of those subreddits (needed to do some research for that fic) and the discussion in those forums and on TikTok is like you described, a kind of practiced desensitization to all gore and suffering in order to survive in their job.
What I've seen from those discussions (and my EMT friend) is an almost sub-conscious trend where they allow themselves the "thing" that breaks them, and they push a lot of that trauma and emotion onto that thing. Like an EMT saying they don't do kids, or they don't do gunshots to the eye, etc. And they'll sob like a baby on those calls, while remaining stone-faced and level-headed through the triple homicide.
I'm just theorizing here, but I imagine the Batfamily uses similar coping skills -- pushing all that trauma and suffering into a box which cracks only under limited, defined circumstances. And they break or snap only under those conditions, because, subconsciously, they allowed themselves to.
So yes, Bruce might be 99% fine with most of the bodies he sees, but there might be a little boy who has a detail (like Jason's dark hair) that just slams into him out of nowhere.
PTSD and trauma literally change the structure of the brain. Individuals react differently to trauma after that, but there does appear to be a "desensitizing" effect with repeated trauma, as the body tries to compensate.
I agree that the Gotham EMTs must be some crazy motherfuckers. They probably deal with 6x the normal shit EMTs deal with in other cities. They probably take on a lot more trauma and burn out quicker than other EMTs, too.
Anyone else have thoughts on this? I admit I don't cover PTSD explicitly in a lot of my fics.
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Harley has finally decided the dog is safe enough to observe from the balcony
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chibinightowl · 2 years ago
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Being carried/tucked in to bed!
Trying my hand at something new, since I know you like them so much. I'm thinking of the Harley more from Batman: White Knight and Harleen, as those are the two most recent comics I've read with her as a feature character.
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"You." huff. "Are." huff. "Too." huff. "Freakin'". huff. "Heavy." Harley drops her load onto the bed with an exhausted gust and flops down herself, draping an arm above her head.
Still breathing heavy, she idly watches the ceiling fan blades slowly cut through the thick summer air. It's been raining off-and-on tonight, which is enough to make her hair get all tangled and clumpy, even with her twin pony tails.
Harley shifts and glares at the nearly lifeless form beside her. There's blood trickling down from under the black cowl that inspires fear and terror into half of Gotham's population. She's not one of them--never has been and never will be. It's too much fun to poke the Bat and watch him twitch.
She gets up and retrieves a first-aid kit from the bathroom. "Where are all your Bat-brats, huh? Aren't they supposed to keep an eye on ya?" she asks, not expecting a response. She'd seen how hard the big bad Bat had been hit in the back of his head. A hospital might be a better option, but then... Well, it's not like that'll end any better. Batsy has a secret to keep, after all--one that she's known for years.
The cowl consists of way too many traps that she picks her way through with only a few zots and zaps. They tingle and make her inadvertently giggle.
It takes some effort, but Harley rolls Batsy on his side and angles the bedside lamp at the back of his head. Black hair is wet and matted with blood.
"I hope you didn't break anythin' in there. I don't think you want me doin' brain surgery," she pronounces as she pulls on a pair of nitrile gloves and gets to work.
To be fair, she knows more than her fair share about brain surgery, but she likes Batsy too much to want to mess around in his head. Puddin' used to say Bats needed a sense of humor, but Harley always thought otherwise. She's seen Batman laugh, seen him smile. He just never did around Puddin' because he knew how much it got under his skin when he didn't react.
Psychology, right there.
By the time she's got a bandage wrapped around Batsy's head, the man's breathing is a bit stronger and some color has returned to his lips. Blue is a color for the Wingster, not Batman.
Harley cleans up and leaves the first-aid kit on the nightstand, then tucks the black cape around the slumbering man. Standing over Batman, she gives him a considering look. "You know, Bruce, you're gonna live a lot longer if you stop gettin' bashed in the head."
Bruce cracks open an icy blue eye and glares weakly. It's highly ineffective and makes her laugh. "You're the one who hit me."
"And you're the one who scared me!" Harley protests, hands waving in the air. "C'mon, who sneaks up on a gal when she's just takin' in some culture?"
"You broke into the modern art museum. You hate modern art."
"Aww, you remember!" She leans over and plants a wet one on his cheek. "Just for that, I'll do you a solid."
Harley reaches for Bruce's waist and slaps one of the pouches on his belt. Then, for good measure, punches it hard to make sure the emergency beacon activates.
Bruce grunts and the glare grows stronger. He's still as weak as a wet kitten, so it's just as effective as the first one. "Harley..." he growls.
"Oh, shush." Just because she can, she boops him on the nose. "What's a concussion between friends, right? Now, I gotta go. I don't think your birdies will like seeing me here when you're all in flagrante with your bat ears off."
With that parting shot, she darts away and pulls a vanishing act of her own. She'll give Bruce a few weeks to recover and then kidnap him for brunch or something. He really needs to lighten up.
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harleyhua · 2 years ago
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✿ ☀ ✿ ☀ ✿
When Trisha invited Harley over for a party, he didn't think it'd be anything crazy. A few girls from the cheer squad, maybe (usually Harley would protest being lumped in with 'the girls', but he wasn't comfortable with being singled out as the only guy either. So this was the agreed upon terminology for their old friend group). What Trisha failed to mention was that it wasn't just a small girls' night. This was a full blown house party. It felt a little high school to Harley, but he made himself an involved mixed drink and got far away from the alcohol station as he could before anyone who recognized him from Reef Bar could ask him to play bartender on a night he wasn't getting paid to do so.
This party felt so high school, which was very surreal for Harley. He was a completely different person now, inside and out. There were a lot of people he hadn't seen since he graduated that didn't even realize it was him. "One person even said to him that they used to know someone else who looked a lot like him and had cochlear implants, but she was studying art in New York now. You look a lot like this girl I went to high school with, she had cochlear implants too! was the funniest reaction he got from someone so far tonight. It was like he was reliving high school, but in a parallel universe where he'd been able to be himself five years ago.
The last person he expected to see was Mars. They hadn't spoken in over a year, and last he'd heard she was still in Los Angeles. Trisha said nothing about inviting her to the party. She was clueless about the drama that had happened between the two of them following Amaria's accident. So when Harley felt someone's eyes on him and looked up, he was surprised to find Mars staring back down at him. She signed his name, looking dramatically at him. For a moment, he wondered if he could convince his ride home to leave so early. But then he looked up and noticed she was crying. Shit. As much as he wanted to take off, he couldn't leave her like that. After taking a deep breath, he signed to her. "I'm coming up."
It only took a couple minutes to get to the balcony, but it felt like a lifetime. There were so many people to get through, really bad music playing slightly too loud to have a conversation over it (even for hearing people, but even more so for him), and the feeling that she would be gone when he got up there. And he wasn't sure how he felt about that. Part of him hoped she wouldn't be on the balcony. That she would leave without a trace the way she had done to him fifteen months ago. He'd been upset for over a year now and just trying to push it down because she wasn't here anymore and there was nothing to do with that feeling. He didn't know how to deal with it or how he'd react to her. But then part of him felt guilty for hoping not to deal with his former friend. The biggest part of him, the part that had him going to see her before he could talk himself out of it, was the part that was worried about her.
By the time they were in the same space again, he didn't feel anything at all. And he had no idea what to say. He stared at her for several seconds, trying to piece together something. He wanted to ask how long she had been back, or get mad at her for being the one who got to cry now (even though he rarely got mad at anyone), or ask what he had done wrong to make her hate him in the first place. But she was crying, and he needed to address that first. "Are you okay? What's wrong?" He caught himself signing along with the words, but made mental note to drop the signing when he spoke next. It felt uneasy knowing their big fight started because she couldn't sign with her injuries.
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Who: @harleyhua Where: Mutual Friend's House Party
Mars should have known better than to think she was ready for this. When an old high-school friend had mentioned a party, she hadn't thought it would be like it was in way back when. Maybe some games and snacks, some light beers. This was chaotic. A two story beach house cramped with bodies enough of them familiar that it almost felt like she was back in her senior year eight years ago. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy being around people anymore, Mars had always been social enough. Affectionate with friends and family and friendly to those she didn't know. What bothered her was that with all the faces old and new milling about she couldn't get a grip on her own space. Everything felt claustrophobic. Armaria tried to smile through the panic, greeting old acquaintances with a small smile. Eventually it became too much. Her grip tightened on the red-solo cup full of room-temperature beer as her eyes desperately scanned for the nearest exit. There. The deck. There were still more people than she felt comfortable with but the openness of the sky helped to ease the burgeoning panic. She squeezed her way to the rail as tears began to leak out of the corner of her eyes. Why couldn't she just be normal again?
That's when she saw him.
Harley Hua. High school sweetheart and best friend; though she supposed the latter should have been former best friend. An ache tugged deep within her heart. He was beautiful. Dark brown hues watched as he mingled with mutual friends on the expanse of private beach below the deck. Harley had always been pretty, even before he had transitioned, but after having been away from him for so long, longer than any other time in their life from when they'd met, tonight he looked ethereal. A figure shrouded in dreams and wants and desires. Armaria had longed to talk to him. Missing him the moment she'd sent him away from her hospital room in a sea of misplaced anger and rage. It wasn't his fault. She had been in so much pain and the way they communicated took more than just words. Mars regretted her decision the moment she made it. But the depression had been too deep, the anger and her wounds too raw to see the real consequence of what she was losing. Then his eyes lifted, as though he could sense her watching him.
A soft sob caught in her throat as their gazes met for the first time in almost a year. Her heart stopped. She signed the one thing she knew by heart, his name. "Harley," A sign unique to him that her fingers would never forget the pattern of. Having not used it in a long while her memory of sign language had faded considerably. But even before she'd learned to sign they had been able to communicate without words. Mars brought her hands up to her heart, pressing them hard against her chest. Tears began to fall in earnest now, creating lines of waves along her make-up free cheeks. I miss you.
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roll-da-credits · 4 years ago
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BNHA Villains reacting to S/O who takes care of them
Characters: Tomura Shigaraki, Dabi, Himiko Toga
A/n: Yk my moods when it comes to villains can go from vry chaotic like burning down a random restaurant in the middle of the night with them, or extremely motherly. Like can you just imagine making a warm meal for Shigaraki, or even giving Toga the same amount of affection she gives out??? 😭😭😭
🖤❤️🖤
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Tomura Shigaraki
The first time you tried to take care of him was when you made him warm soup when he looked extremely exhausted
Shigaraki felt a warmness grow in his heart but obviously, he pushed it all away, he knew nothing of the feeling and would rather ignore it.
He pushed the bowl away and spilled it everywhere. Even after seeing your slightly disappointed face, he didn't budge at all.
But you stayed hopeful that maybe one day he'd reciprocate your care.
You did this a couple more times, making him small meals when he'd skip out or simply asking if he was hungry or not.
He would usually stay silent and even get mad at you for no reason at all. Once again, you stayed patient with him and listened to him.
Tbh he hated the way you were taking care of him, he felt like you were babying him, and he didn't want to seem weak in front of people, especially you.
It wasn't until one night after a failed mission that he was too exhausted to push your care away.
You made a simple warm meal and hoped he actually enjoyed it.
He looked disgusted at first but after taking in a few bites he stopped his ranting and ate silently.
He didn't talk to you at all that night as you slept together, though from the way his hug tightened at night you could tell he was thankful.
Since then you would try here and there to give him even the smallest amount of care.
From giving him vaseline (he doesn't use it but you're thankful he even accepted it) to his favorite, making warm food.
He would never say thank you or seem grateful when you did this and people were around the two of you, yet when you were alone he sometimes whispered a soft thank you.
Shigaraki knows he doesn't deserve you but he can't help and want to be selfish, he knows he's not thankful or grateful enough but the fact that here you are still with him is enough for him.
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Dabi
Dabi would probably shame you for caring for someone like him. Like Shigaraki, he hates the feeling of being cared for, because it was so unnatural for him.
He's lived his entire life on his own and making his own goddamn decisions that he hates for you to think you can just suddenly walk into his life.
Like Shigaraki, you'd probably have to be extremely patient with him.
He'd taunt you, tease you, insult you, or even straight-up embarrass you for being kind.
Once you bought (stole) a slice of cake for him because you realized you didn't know when his birthday was and kinda felt bad.
He like the jerk he was swatted the slice away from your hand and insulted you in front of the entire League for being weak.
Even when you seemed to be on the verge of crying he didn't care, he scoffed and continued to insult you.
That night though, you were going to clean up the cake, now splattered on the table, only to see Dabi taking a bite of it and smiling a bit.
This made you kind of motivated to continue your small acts of kindness, making sure to never do it whenever you were around people.
He still insults you and degrades you for being so weak to him, but at least now he eats the foods you give him and still lets you lather some aloe vera on his burns.
Dabi hates that even though he's tried to push you away so many times, you keep coming back, he thinks you're an idiot for caring for someone like him.
To him, he was someone who could die any second, whether from his own self-deprecating ideologies, or his quirk. Being with him shouldn't make you happy, it should've made you sad, scared, worried, but he can't help and feel warm whenever he sees you smile when he eats the food you make.
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Himiko Toga
Out of everyone here, I think Toga's most likely to react normally.
Obviously, she doesn't expect you to suddenly care for her, but she doesn't hate it and instead basks in it.
Toga gives me very much Harley Quinn vibes, aside from the obsession with a serial killer masochist clown, Toga is pretty similar to her in the sense that in their most basic they're just some girls who want to be loved and not be judged.
Toga's love is intense, when she loves and I mean truly loves someone, she falls incredibly deeply.
She loves 'taking care' of you, whether that's TRYING to cook meals or stealing some random knick nacks she thinks you'd like.
So when you suddenly started doing the same and actually successfully creates not burnt meals, she's elated.
She'd shower you with compliments, with love, and with so much attention it'd feel suffocating sometimes.
It's when the days grow quiet, that she shows how she truly feels, deep inside, somewhere no one ever sees.
She'd softly hug you and say thank you, and only thank you. The calm moment being an amazing thing.
Unlike Shigaraki and Dabi, even though she knows she doesn't deserve you, she would try her very best to make sure she is the best girlfriend for you.
🖤❤️🖤
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Momma is a badass?
Fandom: DC Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Batmom!reader (in the background) Word count: 1.4k Summary: Your Children don’t know about a big part of your past, but when the situation calls for it, they find out, one way or anotherm Requested by a hydrated Anon: since the request are kinda open. Can i request something where batmom was a former suicide squad member, now dating batman and the batkids dont know? Maybe they are in a dangerous fight against someone and the suicide squad helps them? only if this is okay for you. No pressure or something. Stay hydrated love
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Your children knew that you were a great fighter, one that could hold herself against Bruce easily, and they knew that you had been a vigilante long before you had met their father and fallen into the more domestic role of a part-time event-organizer and a full-time momma at day and a crime fighter at night. Sometimes they had tried to ask you and Bruce about what you had done for the most of your early adulthood, but they never found out anything about what happened between your 18th and 25th birthday. A few of them - mostly Tim, Steph and Damian - had thought about finding out the old-fashioned way, but everytime they seriously considered it they remembered that not once since you had taken them in as your children have you breached their privacy without a very, very good reason. So they quickly started to forget about it again and face their own problems. What none of your children had expected was that that blank on your resume was going to be filled on what was supposed to be an easy mission in Gotham’s Docks. You and Bruce were the ones who went, Tim on the Comms, only to find that three of the most dangerous and violent - but in themselves alone relatively small - crime families had “bonded” together to defeat the one thing that kept them from ‘rising to their true size’: Your family. The two of you were good, years of beating and defeating big baddies have shown so much, but not even the two of you were good enough to defeat the small army that was attacking you now. Under the hail of bullets that were raining down on you, a few of them hitting your body armour, but luckily not you, you barely managed to dive for cover behind a metal pillar. Looking over you were relieved to find Bruce behind cover too, seemingly not hurt. He nodded at you, most likely having the same thoughts about you, before talking to you and Tim over the Comms. “Red, we need everyone here asap, this is at least a code blue situation.” “Code blue? I thought this was just a quick in-and-out,” Tim asked surprised. “Just do it, no time to explain,” Bruce grunted as he threw a Batarang at a particularly bold individual that tried to break his cover, disarming him quickly and knocking him unconscious. “I contacted everyone, Nightwing and Red Hood are on their way, ETA is at least ten minute. Robin is preparing and will be there in five. Oracle is going to take over the Comms as soon as she’s online from her homebase and then I’ll hurry over with Black Bat. The others will try to come, but are indispensable at the moment,” Tim informed you and you could hear the almost inhumane quick tapping of his keyboard in the background. Before you had the chance to answer you noticed the small circular object rolling towards you and just almost managed to kick it away and shield yourself with your cape. “We don’t have enough time to wait for all of them!” you shouted over the sound of another explosion and when you looked over at Bruce you almost saw the internal conversation, “They’re on a mission not far from here, they could be here in five minutes.” “Who are you talking about?” Tim asked, but you and your husband just ignored him. “Do it!” Bruce said after he had to dive for a new cover when the pillar he was standing behind got damaged by another granate. Not waiting another second you pulled out a small button that was protected by a glass hood. You clicked the glass hood off and pushed the button, a little relief flooding you when you saw the blinking light below it implicate that the signal was received. Now you just had to survive long enough for your help to arrive. Tim and Cassandra, closely followed by Damian, arrived shortly after, but even with the five of you, you weren’t remotely able to do more than hold yourself against the seemingly never ending attack that got worse with every minute. When you heard the flapping of a chopper somewhere above you, you could have wept with joy, but soon got pulled back into reality when a bigger explosion rang through your ears and debris from the newly bombed open roof missed you by literal inches. After making sure neither your husband, not your children were hurt badly, you looked up to find that the chopper was not the one you had hoped for when you were looking directly into the barrel of a bomb launcher. The thought of retreating filled your mind, but before you could suggest, you saw the opposing chopper blow up in a haze of fire before a very familiar crazy laugh filled your ears - even if it was still half a mile or so away. More explosions rang through the enemy lines and the shift in power was immediately feelable. You had just won the upper hand. Five ropes were lowered around you and soon after you found yourself surrounded by your former team - or rather one version of it, the suicide squad never really being one to keep stagnate. “Did ‘ya miss us sugar?” Harley crackled as she fell around your neck, hugging you with one arm while the other was occupied with shooting an enemy that had been charging at the six of you. “You wouldn’t believe how much,” you smiled and - after quickly greeting the rest of the team - got back to fighting. Dick and Jason joined the fight shortly before the end - before your win - and were surprised by the people who were fighting in such a harmony with their mother that it looked like they had been fighting with you for years, but with the fight still going on they had little time to care about it too much. The twelve of you together had an easy time fighting against the gangs and it only took a few minutes more before you left unconscious, dead (the suicide squad had no no-killing rule after all) and tied up gang members for the police to lock up. The squad's chopper had been severely damaged during the fight so the five went with you to a second-emergency base on the outskirts of Gotham to wait for Waller to send them a pick-up, leaving you with a bit of time to catch up with your old mates. While you were laughing and talking to Harley, Rick, Floyd, Digger and Tatsu like you were old friends who haven’t seen each other in a while, Bruce standing a few feet behind you - keeping up his grim persona, but not stopping you from interacting with the (mostly) villains - your children were at the other side of the room completely dumbfounded at the way their mother was acting.
“Remember that time Waller almost blew up your head because you thought it was a good idea to play pranks in the base?” you asked laughing, the others joining you. “Yeah, well, how was I supposed to know she’d react to a bit of water like that,” Dagger shrugged, but smiled at the memory. “Can’t believe it’s been so long already since I left, it feels like yesterday I almost cut your eyes out,” you smiled - you much like Katana not having been there as a criminal, but rather as a guard yourself. “Hey, if you want back, we’d gladly take you in, I still think Waller considered planting a bomb in your head just so that you would come back and bring some order back,” Rick shrugged, but you just shook your head. “Thank you, but no thank you, I have a life here now. Also I don’t think Hubby would like that too much,” you giggled a little and blew a kiss at Bruce, who responded only with a stern nod in an interaction that your children would have usually found hilarious if they weren’t so occupied with staring. “Ya’know sugah, Ah love attention, Ah really do, but even Ah get uncomfortable if dah little batlings keep on starin’ like tha’,” Harley nudged your shoulder and nodded into the direction of your children. “Oh, don’t mind my little ones, they just didn’t know about my time at the suicide squad,” you shrugged, well aware that you were going to have a lot to explain later on.
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Batfam Scenario From My Wattpad
Request: How Would Dick and Tim React to a S/o (Fem pronouns Pls) who is just feeling broken? Scenarios! Thank you in advance.
*Trigger Warning*
Dick
The pouring rain was thundering when I arrived at Wayne Manor. It was almost like Alfred was expecting me because there was a bath ready made for me when I arrived. I had just slid into the tub when Dick walked in.
"are you gonna explain why you showed up in the pouring rain? I was on patrol so I called Alfred to make you a bath when I saw you walking there" True to his word he was standing in his Nightwing costume. I slightly sighed and shook my head. This didn't make him leave me be though.
"Once I'm back from the rest of patrol we need to talk about this, ok?" When he said ok in the softest voice I almost wanted to cry again. I nod slightly instead. I didn't want to breathe. He might think I'm stupid for feeling this way, but I can't help it. After falling asleep in the bath I wake up in an oversized t-shirt and my underwear. I don't feel as bad as before but I don't feel wonderful either. I look to the side of me to where Dick is laying, now in civilian clothes. He had his phone open so when I slightly glance to him he puts it down and sits up.
"Can we talk about it now? Y/n I want to help" I shake my head. Slowly I sit up. He sighs and opens his arms to give me a hug. I almost collapse into his arms and the second I feel his hands pulling me in for a tight hug everything I was holding back came out. I was crying and taking about everything.
"I feel so, so Broken"
Dick just kept saying things like
'It's going to be hard but I'll help you every step of the way' After I finished my cry I fell asleep again. It was hard and even though I didn't think it could get better, I knew Dick would help out any way possible and that gives me enough strength to move on for now.
Tim
"H/N! LOOK OUT!" I slightly move to the left and dodge a bullet Red hood sent my way by accident.
"DUDE! WATCH WHERE YOU'RE FIRING! YOU COULD OF KILLED HER!" Red Robin yelled fighting a bad guy. I could not even think fast enough to anything but dodge. I get a slight 'sorry' from Red hood but I couldn't hear him. I was on a mission with Batman, Red hood, Red Robin, Nightwing and Robin but Batman was dealing with the Joker at the moment so we were on our own. We had to deal with a bunch of angry robots and Harley Quinn. Harley backflipped over to me to fight
"It's no fun fighting all these boys... I wanna fight a girl!" I got into fighting position when a loud bang was heard all over the room. I was looking around to see if my team was hurt when all of their eyes were on me. Then I noticed the pain in my abdomen and the blood.  I first thought Harley had shot me but the panicked look on her face said otherwise. The loud laughter that came from upstairs quickly gave away what happened.
"Oh crap..." I fell to the ground only to feel Harley of all people catch me.
(If any of yall hit me with Harley wouldn't help! I'm gonna hit you with the fact she cares for children. She literally stopped fighting with Black canary because she was Pregnant)
When I finally woke up I saw the familiar ceiling of the Batcave. I sat up only to see Tim on the chair next to my bed. On his phone. With two coffees.
"Oh my god! You're awake! Thank god. I Got you this because I know you probably don't want to sleep anymore after being asleep for three weeks." He pulled me into a hug and I could tell he had been crying.
"i'm sorry" I say in a shaky voice, I knew for a fact that because I passed out we didn't get the Joker. This was all my fault. Even before the stupid mission I had been feeling like H/n needed to disappear for good. All I ever did was drag everyone down. If it was Dick who was fighting Harley I know he would of dodged Joker's bullet. If it was Jason he would of shot Joker already. If it was Tim he would of found away to use the bullet. If it was Damian. He wouldn't of even given the chance to Joker.  Yet because it was me, I brought the whole team down.
"for what?" He said softly not pulling away from the hug. I pushed him away from me and he looked concerned.
"For fucking up the mission. If I hadn't of gotten shot we may of gotten Joker this time" He goes to grab my hand and I push him away.
"How did you know we didn't get the Joker y/n?"
"I'm not stupid Tim. I knew he was getting cornered by Bruce, So I knew he'd become desperate for an escape. He shot me so that he could get away. I fucked up the mission as usual. I think it might be time for H/n to retire" The tears started building up in my eyes. I don't like feeling this, this Broken.
"Of course, You chicken out when things get tough, L/n" Damian says walking through the door with the rest of the team.
"No one blames you for Joker getting away. Our main priority is keeping the team alive" Dick comments.
"If this causes you to fucking quit. I don't really care. If you are quitting for the right fucking reasons" Jason says biting into a bagel.
"Y/n... Please, I know you love being H/n and I know that this" Tim gestures to my tears.
"Didn't happen just because of one mission! Talk to me! Isn't that what a relationship is for?" he reaches once again to grab my hand and I move it so we can intertwine fingers. He then gestures to the three boys so that they leave.
"I feel useless. It's so often that I'm targeted and need saving because of how weak I am"
"Then we will train harder! If you improve constantly then you will never need saving again!" This is when I remember why I fell in love with Tim in the first place.
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soulmate-game · 4 years ago
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Can you do a prompt of Marinette being the daughter of the Joker and Harley but Harley left him before Marinette was born and when Joker found out about his daughter He decided to kidnap Marinette so she can become like him (Ace chemicals) (Daminette)
Woot, my first ask in a while! Let’s see how I can do this oddly specific ask that reminds me of a fic that might actually exist but tbh I’ve read so many fanfics idk if my brain is remembering right
—*—*—*—*—*
Marinette knew Sabine and Tom weren’t her biological parents. She had known ever since she was eight, when her mother by blood visited her for the first time, sat her down, and explained everything. Including, but not limited to, her disastrously toxic past relationship, her new girlfriend, and her recent success with long term rehab (unofficial rehab that mostly consisted of illegal anti-hero actions, but hey if it worked it worked).
Marinette understood. Well no, she really didn’t since she was only eight, but she understood that her mom— that Harley— was genuine. She had always had a knack for emotions and telling when people were sincere or not. And Harley really was regretful about not being in her life beforehand, and was serious about wanting to be part of her life now that her own was mostly sorted out.
So Marinette was not surprised when Harley really did stick it out. When Harley cooed over Marinette copying her hairstyle to show her support of her biological mom, when Harley never failed to call at least once a week even if she was in jail for punching some asshole or another. Harley never stayed arrested long anymore, she was usually found to be on the right side of the moral scale more and more often so the police didn’t bother keeping her locked up anymore. Through the years, Marinette always looked forward to her mom’s calls. Looked forward to being lulled to sleep by one crazy story or another from her mother’s past. Everything was nice. Perfect, even, for a while.
A thump sounded from her balcony, one late night when Marinette was thirteen. Blinking, the dark haired girl furrowed her brows. Who would be on her balcony? Cautiously walking towards the trap door leading to it, grasping her metal pencil holder as a weapon (she remembered all of her Mom’s stories about break-ins and random attacks back in Gotham), the teen strained her ears. Akuma attacks were only a few months old now, but she had already become in high alert for any sign of Hawkmoth or his victims. As per usual, Marinette’s paranoia began to kick in. Did Hawkmoth already figure her out? Was he here for her earrings? Would she be able to fight him?
She gently pushed up the trap door, catching a glimpse of black leather. Huh? Marinette narrowed her eyes, confused. Was it Chat? He should have been on patrol, on the other side of the city. What was he doing visiting her?
Suddenly the trap door yanked the rest of the way open, making Marinette yelp as the handle for it rugged away from her fingers. And there, backlit by the pure blue-white moonlight, was Not Chat Noir. It was Catwoman, in all her skintight black leather glory, grinning at her before pushing her cat-eye goggles up to the top of her head and crouching down by the trap door’s entrance, balancing only on the pads of her feet.
“Well hello there~” the woman purred. “So you’re the cute little kitten Harley is so secretive about. Nice to finally meet you,” the woman held out a hand, sending Marinette a sweet, if mysterious, smile. For a while, the pigtailed girl only stared before a squeal of excitement left her throat, leaving very little room for any doubt as to her bloodline. A large smile curled over Marinette’s lips, leaving her beaming widely at the catlike woman on her balcony.
“Auntie Selina! Mom’s told me so much about you! Come in, come in, come in! I’ll sneak some macaroons up for you. Or do you prefer croissants? What’s your favorite flavor? Are you really dating Batman? Oh my goodness, that necklace is so lovely! Did you steal it?”
Selina could only chuckle fondly at the word vomit, letting the smaller girl drag her down the trap door and into her very… pink room. Looking around, Selina was once again slapped with just how similar this kid was to her outgoing friend. Marinette clearly had no shame in indulging in the things she liked, such as the color pink and anything regarding fashion. But there were other things amongst the girliness of the room, like the posters of Jagged Stone and the training dummy half-sticking out of her closet door. There were a few ornamental knives hung up behind her computer, seemingly just for decoration although Selina could see that they were definitely battle ready and sharpened. A small mallet, clearly a miniature replica of her mother’s own signature weapon, leaned up against the side of the girl’s laundry basket. But then there was Marinette’s mannequin, which was surrounded by meticulously cut pieces of cloth and had other pieces pinned to it strategically. Marinette clearly had the same professionalism and love for her chosen career that had so completely defined Harley in the Time Before Joker. The same genius intellect hiding in those deceptively cheerful bluebell eyes. And for the first time, though not for the last to be sure, Selina found herself thoroughly relieved that it seemed Marinette had inherited very little from her father.
Except, as she would learn from stories Harley told her later, an apparent affinity for chaos.
“I’m not that picky, kitten. But I’m not that hungry, so don’t go too out of your way,” Selina decided to just react the same way she did with Harley’s rambles, and answer one question at a time. “Also, I am actually dating Bruce Wayne. But, if you promise not to tell anyone—“ she waited for Marinette’s eager nod before continuing casually, “— the two are maybe not as mutually exclusive as many think,” Selina finished with a conspiratorial wink. “No, I actually did not steal this necklace. Bruce has been adamant in trying to curb me of my thieving habit by buying me almost everything I so much as glance at sideways. It’s sweet. Naive, because I like stealing for the fun of it, but sweet.”
Marinette giggled, bouncing in place happily. She loved a bit of innocent gossip like this. “Is Momma Ivy ever gonna visit? I don’t think Mom told her much about me yet, and I still gotta give her the shovel talk!” the fierce look that overcame Marinette’s face made Selina laugh again. Oh yes, definitely her mother’s daughter.
“Pam has been trying to sneak over, but the laws regarding Metahumans in Paris suddenly got much stricter a few months back and have caused some problems. You wouldn’t happen to know what happened, would you?” Selina did not miss when her seemingly innocent question caused her niece to close off almost instantly. Bluebell eyes took on a familiar guardedness, and scanned her with the same soul-searching intensity that Harley had when she was channeling her Psychiatrist side. Selina found herself in a slightly concerning spot though—
Because she couldn’t predict Marinette at all. She was left to simply stand there as Marinette searched for some unidentifiable thing in her eyes, completely unable to read the younger girl’s face and with no idea of what to expect. The side effect of having chaos so thoroughly entwined in both of her biological parents, she supposed.
“Nope, no idea.”
Selina knew that was a lie, but knew equally as well that she would not be getting a better answer anytime soon. So, she let it go and the two of them once again dipped into innocent chatter.
Later that night, when Selina left and the sun threatened to rise at any minute, Tikki flew up from her hiding spot under Marinette’s pillow to land on her holder’s shoulder. Marinette giggled and looked over at her little friend.
“Tikki?”
“Yes, Mari?”
“Why was I chosen to be your holder?” She asked suddenly, flopping back into her bed and staring at her ceiling. The little goddess hummed, smiling knowingly before flying down to cuddle in the crook of Marinette’s neck.
“Because you are born from luck itself. Even when bad things happen, you have the luck and determination to get out just fine, and stronger than before. And despite the destruction and anarchy in your blood, you have the willpower to reign it in and keep control of yourself. 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 that’s a large part of who you are, I could feel it in your soul the moment we first met.”
Marinette closed her eyes, biting the inside of her cheek. “What if I lose control?”
“... You’ll just have to get it back. It’ll be hard, but as long as you have people to support you, you will be able to do it. You aren’t evil, Marinette,” the small God seemed to sense the true question her holder was asking, and did her best to soothe the doubt the girl felt. “Just remember the reasons you fight against chaos. Remember everyone you love, and you’ll be okay. And you have me, I’ll always help you.”
“... thank you, Tikki.”
—*—*—*—*—*
“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.”
—*—*—*—*—*
It was uncanny just how often Marinette’s hunches were right. Her intuition was something to behold, truly, because it only took three days in Gotham before Joker snatched her right out of her room at Harley and Ivy’s apartment. At least Marinette had sixteen by then, so she had had enough experience as a hero in Paris and with generally unpredictable situations and people who were absolutely nuts for her to not immediately panic. Too much, anyway.
Because there was definitely a little panic there.
See, Marinette knew herself inside out by then. After her own battle with her toxic feelings towards Adrien and doing her best to heal from those before she turned out like her mom, she knew she was by no means mentally indestructible. Mental illness ran the high risk of being inherited, and Marinette was well aware that her own personality was scarily similar to her mother’s at times. She got attached quickly, felt affection and love for others very strongly and, as she found with Adrien, could easily become obsessive if she didn’t watch herself. At least Harley was the perfect person to help with that, and Marinette was serious about helping herself too. She did everything she could to keep an eye on her mental health and keep her behavior in check so she didn’t do anything too unhealthy with her relationships again.
But she knew, she knew she had a soft spot for family. She got attached too easily. And being in the same room as her biological father, despite being tied up by her hands and feet and knowing just how many unforgivable things he had done in his life, Marinette felt vulnerable. She didn’t want to hurt him, despite everything. She still loved him, despite every reason not to, despite her first meeting with him being with him shoving chloroform over her face and hogtying her to a metal chain dangling over a vat of acid.
Geez, she’d need more than just her mom as a therapist after this for sure. Even if her mom had a PH.D, Marinette felt like she’d need several psychiatrists to sort through her emotional turmoil right then and make sense of any of it.
Marinette licked her lips, aware that the only kindness that Joker gave his daughter was sparing her from the discomfort of being gagged.
“Don’t,” Marinette said, surprising herself with the amount of steel she was able to put into her voice. Somehow, she managed to make the single word sound more like an order than a plead. “Joker, put me—“
“Ah-Ah-Ah!” The clown walked over, tutting and waving his finger in the air in almost playful admonishment. He gave her a dramatically fake pout. “Don’t you know it’s disrespectful to refer to your father by his first name?” Neither of them mentioned that Joker was definitely not his real name. They both knew the point was moot. “Say it with me now— ‘Daddy dearest, I am more than willing to be dunked in acid for you,’ go ahead, say it.”
Marinette’s jaw clenched. Familial love or not, she would not tolerate being ridiculed like that. She dealt with enough ridicule when she was fourteen and fifteen during school, before she put Liar Rossi in her place. She had spent the past three years as a hero in charge of the war against Hawkmoth, in charge of protecting all of Paris from an emotional terrorist.
And gee, wasn’t that what Joker was, too? Sure, he was a terrorist in the classic meaning of the word as well, but he was nothing if not a skilled manipulator. He knew the human mind just as well as Harley or any other psychiatrist did, he just used his knowledge for different means. He had emotionally abused Harley for years, he emotionally abused and manipulated people all across gotham on a daily basis. He was just another Hawkmoth, but with more physical violence in place of magic.
With these thoughts strengthening her resolve, Marinette narrowed her eyes at the man who donated half of her DNA. She let her anger boil into her irises, hitting him with one of the few traits she knew she inherited from him.
Her ability to intimidate others on the tip of a hat.
“No,” she growled back at him. She took a deep breath. It had taken her a while, but she refused to be ashamed of who she was regardless of her blood relation. She would have no problem using the very things she inherited from Joker against him. She might have gotten most of Harley’s personality, she might have inherited her mother’s habit of falling in love hard, fast, and obsessively, but she also had Joker’s defiance. His bone-deep inability to be stopped from doing exactly whatever the fuck he wanted.
And then, there were Marinette’s own traits. The ones that were completely her own, developed over her life organically. Like her refusal to bow down to bullies, her creativity, her ability to take even the most chaotic situation and see some sort of balance and sanity in it that she could use to her advantage.
That she WOULD use to her advantage. The shadows she saw move out of the corner of her eye gave her the chance to do exactly that, she just needed to buy a few more seconds. Just a few more seconds.
“Excuse me?” Joker growled right back, his own intimidation, honed over more years than Marinette had been alive and thus much more potent than her own, reading its ugly head as he stalked towards her. His face was pulled down into an ugly snarl, his shoulders tensed and back straight as he glared right at her. From his spot on the metal walkway, he was easily able to reach over the railing and grab her chin in one pale, viciously strong hand. “I think you’re misunderstanding something here, little Marionette. I’m your father. Half of your life came directly from ME. That makes you my puppet. You exist to follow my orders,” his right grip suddenly let go, leaving behind the beginnings of a bruise as his entire demeanor changed from angry to cheerful. He spread his arms as if gesturing to the whole chemical plant victoriously, and an unnaturally large smile curved over his lips and bared yellowing teeth at her. “But that’s okay. I’ll forgive you this time, you haven’t learned any better yet. That’s why we’re here. We need to cleanse you of all those icky bad habits you’ve learned up until now, all you need is a little,” he bounced in place with a wicked smirk to illustrate his next words— “jumpstart. A little acid goes a long way to enlightenment you know, you’ll see my side of things in no time. And with my blood in you, you’ll make a better sidekick than that idiot Harley ever did. I can sense it, you’ve got a real talent for Chaos in you, it’s exciting, Heheeeheheee! Now then, we should probably speed things along before our family reunion is cut short. Hang in there, my little Marionette,” the man actually had the gall to spin in place while humming a tune cheerfully before all but dancing over to the lever that held Marinette’s length of chain in the air over the vat of chemicals below her. “Everything will clear up in that little head of yours in just a second!”
There! Right as Joker pulled the switch to lower her into the bubbling vat underneath her, Marinette was able to finish untying her hands. She couldn’t contain a small yelp as gravity flung her body forward, leaving her upside down on the chain for a brief moment. That was when the chain started lowering rapidly, and Marinette was barely able to rip the rope off of her ankles in time to swing off of it and onto the metal walkway that came up right next to the giant metal container of liquid death and insanity. Joker had barely enough time to shout in rage before the windows near the ceiling shattered, admitting the city’s vigilantes themselves. Batman, Nightwing, Red Robin, Red Hood, Robin, and evening Black Bat all landed on the same metal platform above Marinette’s head that Joker was still on, buying the teen time to start running. But she didn’t go towards the exit right away, instead heading right up the stairs into the thick of the fight. Robin briefly separated from where Joker was managing to hold his own, goons flooding from side doors to inhibit the heroes in their attempt to bring their boss down.
The katana-using vigilante kept one eye on Marinette the whole time, suspicious of why the girl would come back up if not to help her father. But that wasn’t what she did, instead she flipped and kicked and punched her way through the quickly growing sea of Joker thugs until she reached a small pink purse that had been abandoned near the lever that had nearly sent her into liquid insanity. Three thugs surrounded her right as she snatched the purse up and slung it over her shoulder, but Robin barely had the chance to head over before she was heaving the men, who were all easily three times her size, over her shoulder and was slamming elbows into soft spots and the side of her hand into pressure points. By the time Robin got to her side, all three men were unconscious and bound to wake up in utter agony.
Marinette glanced up, getting ready to haul Robin over her shoulder as well before she realized who he was. She let her shoulders relax just a tick, sighing in relief before returning her eyes to scanning their surroundings. She shot him a brief grin.
“Good thing my adoptive mother, Mom, Momma Ivy, and Auntie Selina all made sure I knew how to take down a small army on my own, huh?” She asked rhetorically before they were both unceremoniously dragged back into the giant brawl.
—*—*—*—*—*
“Nettie-pie!”
“Marigold!”
Harley and Pamela Quinzel-Isley shoved down anyone and everyone who dared block their direct path to their daughter. The girl of the hour stood next to the bat clan, a shock blanket held tightly around her shoulders as she did her best to finish her statement to both the vigilantes and Commissioner Gordon.
“You untied yourself… from a ship-grade knot in high quality rope… with a phone charm?” They heard Gordon ask incredulously, to which Marinette could only give a lopsided smile. That was when her mom and stepmom crashed into her, enveloping her in a nearly suffocating hug.
“Gah— mom— momma Ivy—“ Marinette flailed in their arms for a bit before finally getting her head free and continuing her statement as if she didn’t have two of the most dangerous women in the city still giving her a bone crushing hug. “That’s better. Yes, Commissioner. You see, I realized when I was in the car with Joker, while I was pretending to still be unconscious, that one of the charms on my phone had pretty sharp corners that I could use like a serrated edge if I had enough time. So I carefully detached it from my phone, and held it in my palm. It took almost an hour, but once Joker noticed I was awake I kept him talking so that he didn’t notice what I was doing even as he tied me up to that chain. Really, it’s just lucky that I was able to get it worn down in time,” Marinette rubbed the back of her neck with a nervous chuckle. “But regardless, I think Batman and his partners,” she nodded to the listening vigilantes just to the side of her. “Were close enough that I would have been caught anyway, I just wanted to make sure they had less work to do. The sooner I freed myself, the sooner ‘Daddy Dearest,’” she grimaced as she mockingly used the same term Joker had tried to get her to say earlier that night. “Could go back behind bars where he belongs.”
“Oh my little Nettie-cake,” Harley cried, finally pulling back from the hug long enough to wipe her cheeks. It was clear that she had been crying for a while, and her colorful pigtails were mussed and tangled from where she must have been tugging on them in worry. “You were right. I’m so sorry, I never should have let you come to Gotham when I knew he was out of Arkham.”
Marinette was quick to shake her head frantically, pulling her arms out of Ivy’s hold so she could grasp Harley’s shoulders firmly. “No. No, Mom, I’m fine! And besides, we knew I couldn’t stay secret forever. I really like staying with you and Momma Ivy! Everything turned out fine though, and he’s headed back to Arkham. It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay, Nettle,” Pam argued, distracting herself by running her hands through Marinette’s bangs. She had only known the girl for two years, but that was more than long enough for her to consider the teenager as her own. “He took you right out from under our noses. You were supposed to be safe in our home, and he still got to you. That’s not okay. We weren’t able to protect you like we should have been. Maybe you should go back to Paris early.”
“What?! No way!” Marinette argued, eyes wide. “This is the first time I’ve been able to ever visit you guys in Gotham, I’m not letting some psycho sperm donor keep me from enjoying time with my family! I came here knowing full well that it was dangerous. I’m not gonna just run away after one bad experience.”
Harley snorted, and then devolved into uncontrollable giggles. “Heh— psycho sperm donor. Good one, sugar!”
Marinette smiled and rolled her eyes good naturedly at her mom’s usual immature antics. Seeing as Gordon had walked away muttering to himself a short while ago, Marinette pulled herself the rest of the way away from her moms and turned to the vigilantes. Without a second’s pause, she bowed to them just like her Maman Sabine taught her.
“Thank you for helping save me. I know it’s probably a shock that I’ve been kept secret from you guys all this time, but I hope you don’t lump me in with the likes of the green-haired half of my DNA. I’m staying with my Moms in their apartment, if you guys decide to patrol by our place like I suspect, I’ll leave some baked goods and coffee out for you on our patio. It’s the least I can do for you all after tonight. And don’t be too hard on Auntie Selina. Me and Mom swore her to secrecy, even from you guys.”
Batman jerked a little at the mention of Catwoman’s real name, jaw twitching for a second. Behind his cowl, his eyes narrowed. Marinette laughed, easily reading his body language and expression.
“She never told me who you are, but she didn’t exactly hide it either. It was easy to put the last pieces together on my own. But don’t worry, SHE swore me to secrecy too. I won’t tell anyone.
“How the hell are you related to the Laughing Asswipe from Hell?” Red Hood blurted out, his confusion clear even from behind his hideous helmet. Marinette burst into giggles, and both Pamela and Harley smiled knowingly.
“Mom gave me up for adoption when I was born, so I spent my whole life in Paris up until now,” she admitted. “Mom didn’t visit me for the first time until I was eight, and she and my adoptive parents are so awesome that it must’ve suffocated the worst traits from his DNA before they had a chance to develop,” she guessed out loud with a good natured smile.
Batman grunted. Marinette knew that one run-in wasn’t enough for them to trust her. After all, she was still the biological daughter of their arch enemy. But she didn’t mind, she understood the caution even if she didn’t fully agree with it. They weren’t outright hostile, despite the fact that Robin had never stopped glaring at her since they fought back-to-back against the mob of thugs earlier. She could live with their suspicion, as long as they continued to not be outright rude or mean to her.
At least she could empathize with Adrien now, whenever she figured out how to break it to him that Hawkmoth was definitely Gabriel and couldn’t be anyone else. Hopefully she could help soften the blow for him a little.
Harley and Ivy were starting to herd Marinette towards their car and take her back home, where they could continue to smother her in care and make sure she didn’t have even a scratch on her, when Robin’s voice stopped them all in their tracks.
“You are a surprisingly capable combatant.”
Marinette froze, blinking in surprise for a second before turning to stare at Robin in shock. The rest of the Bat Clam was doing the same, nobody expecting Robin of all people to be the first to directly complement Marinette. He tutted, crossing his arms, but never moved his gaze away from Marinette’s eyes.
“But your form could use some work. Most of your style is incredibly improvised, which I can appreciate since you do it well, but you would benefit from more structure in your fighting. I will set up a time and place for us to spar. We start in two days, if you think you can handle it.”
It took a while for what Robin said to sink in, and another few seconds for Marinette to decipher what his semi-aggressive, order-phrased proposal really meant. And she smiled.
“It’s a date.”
—*—*—*—*—*
Woo! This started off a little rough, but I really like how it ended up! Thank you, Anon!
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elisaphoenix13 · 3 years ago
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When One Works Hard
Commission request from @daisypoisonpen. It was inspired by a TikTok she found and I thought the idea was hilarious. Hope you like it!
Peter knew something was wrong when he got home and fell back onto his bed with his Starkpad when he got home and the internet didn't work. He even tried using the mobile data but that failed to work too. His immediate assumption was that Harley did something, and he got up to walk to Harley's room to confront his brother, but found the older teen looking just as confused. William was sitting on Harley's bed with a book so Peter wasn't sure if he was aware of the issue yet or not, but he was going to hear about it now if he wasn't.
"Hey, did you do something to the internet?" Peter asks and Harley glances up at him from his desk.
"No. I was actually about to come ask you."
Peter shakes his head. "I just got home. Maybe Dad-"
"Dad's not home." William interrupts. "He's had meetings since this morning."
Peter opens his mouth to say something but then he hears small footsteps walking towards him and he leans out of the doorway a bit to find Diana. When she joins him, she holds her Starkpad up to him in confusion.
"Peter, it's not working. Can you fix it?" She asks.
"We're having problems too. The internet is down." He explains. "Maybe Mom knows what's going on."
"Mom doesn't deal with electronics." Harley points out and William closes his book. He wouldn't be getting any reading done until the internet problem was fixed at this rate.
"It wouldn't hurt to ask him anyway. Since Dad's not home, maybe Scott can at least take a look."
Harley snorts. "Dad would break his fingers."
"And Quill will break Dad." Peter says as his brothers get up and follow him out of the room. "And then Mom will find a way to make another time loop and break Quill a million times."
William mutters something about the family being a little too overprotective and psychotic which makes Harley laugh. An angry celestial was very dangerous, but Peter would be lying if he said he wasn't the least bit curious how a time looped battle between Quill and Stephen would go. The Time Stone may no longer exist in a physical sense, but Diana possessed its powers so Stephen would probably find a way to use them through her. If he were desperate enough.
Peter shakes the thought away as the four siblings make it down to the living room where they find Stephen in an armchair and calmly sipping tea. At least it looked calm, but the kids knew better. There was no physical manifestation of the angry aura around the sorcerer, but they knew him well enough to know when Stephen was pissed. Another dead giveaway was the fact that Athena was sitting regally by his feet instead of laying, which meant she could sense Stephen's ire and was reacting accordingly. She wouldn't attack them, but she knew now wasn't the time to be lazing about.
Harley nudges Peter closer and he glares back at his older brother before looking back at Stephen. "Hey, Mom? Do you know why the internet isn't working?"
Stephen takes another sip of his tea, looking up at the kids sharply and making them squirm uncomfortably. Even Valerie, who Peter just noticed was a few feet away having a tea party with Levi, was glancing over in their direction nervously. Of course she was also in tune with Stephen, so she also knew something was up, but Peter would bet money she didn't know what. At least not yet. The bottom line was that someone��did something really bad, but it couldn't have been Valerie because she would never do anything to anger Stephen and his fury wasn't directed at her in any way.
"Stop right there." Stephen suddenly bites out and the kids all flinch until they realize that Thomas suddenly appeared next to them, holding Lucy.
It still boggled Peter's mind that Stephen was able to see and time things just right whenever Thomas or Pietro were running around. For the most part though, he chalked it up to the fact that Stephen was Mom and moms knew everything. It was amusing to see Pietro adjust to things as quickly as he did, but that was probably because he was tired of being caught by the back of his shirt when he was running where he wasn't supposed to.
"I was being careful! I swear!" Thomas says as Lucy's laughter starts to taper off into giggles. For some reason she loved it when he ran around with her at full speed.
Stephen directs his attention to all of the kids again and leans forward to set his mug down on the coffee table. It clattered loudly when ceramic met the glass surface and there was even a brief screech that made Peter wince. The others didn't react so he figured his spider hearing picked it up.
"I don't ask for much," Stephen starts and folds his hands in front of his face with his elbows on his knees. "I feed you, clothe you, take care of you when you're sick, and countless other things...but even I have my limits." He says.
All of the kids were standing ramrod straight by now. Peter didn't have to look to know that. They rarely saw Stephen seethe like this, especially when it was directed at them.
"I had a very long day of dimension hopping and I was looking forward to getting home and sitting down with some tea." The sorcerer continues. "You know what else I was looking forward to?"
The kids remain silent.
"My triple chocolate cake. You all know chocolate is one of the few things besides my children that I indulge in and I assumed you all knew better to ask when it comes to my chocolate. So what I want to know is...who ate it?" Stephen asks as he sits back in the chair.
Peter finally glanced at his siblings, because he knew he didn't eat it, but he was met with the same questioning and confused glances. Like Stephen said, they all knew better than to eat something that wasn't theirs, especially chocolate. They all knew it was one of the things their mom loved and they all liked seeing Stephen enjoy something because he didn't seem to enjoy a whole lot.
"I... don't think any of us ate it." William says softly.
"Maybe it was one of the team?" Thomas points out.
"Well until they step forward to take responsibility and they replace my cake, the internet will remain down." Stephen says.
Peter frowns. "Why don't I just get you another?"
"Because I don't want the culprit to think they got away with it. As I said before, I don't ask for a lot and someone had the nerve--" Stephen takes a breath. "Either you can help find out who did eat it, or you can join Valerie's tea party."
Athena seemed to like the idea as she finally left Stephen's side to join the little girl at her table and accept the biscuit the cloak offered her. Peter loved his sister and joined her tea parties sometimes, but today he was not in the mood. He had homework to do for one of his college classes anyway and he needed the internet so he vouched to help find the chocolate thief. Diana and William decided to play with her though, so it was up to Harley and Peter to figure out who was stupid enough to eat Mom's cake.
Thomas went back to entertaining Lucy, but if the internet wasn't back up by the time they both got tuckered out, he would probably help them.
Their search turned out to be harder than they expected. Either someone lied, or everyone they asked really was innocent. They first asked Scott and Quill, but Scott was panicking about a deadline with a security project he needed to send to Luis, and Quill basically spoke for both of them.
"Look, I know we have our moments, but even we're not stupid enough to eat your mom's chocolate in whatever form it might be."
Quill had a point, so they moved on after Cassie offered to help. Everyone else basically said the same thing. None of them were stupid enough to eat it, but some of them were a little miffed that the internet was down until further notice. Harley tried asking Friday if she knew anything or if she could turn the WiFi back on, but surprisingly, she didn't know who the thief was and Victor was currently overriding her controls over the WiFi. So the boys had no choice but to go back upstairs and entertain themselves the old fashioned way. Board games, card games, tea party with Valerie…
They tried the tv or offline electronics but Stephen shut those down too. Peter didn't know the sorcerer could be this petty, but whoever the culprit ended up being, he was going to web them to the ceiling with his extra strength web fluid. Although, he supposed the good thing that came out of this was that he spent some quality time with his siblings over board games. He, Harley, Thomas, and Cassie got into a really intense game of Uno, Diana and Valerie continued their tea party with Levi and the pets --Tibbs had joined for treats at some point--, and William bravely put a puzzle together with Stephen while Lucy napped in her playpen.
It was nearing dinner time when Tony got home and Stephen and William were in the middle of making a pasta dish. Stephen was still irked and even Tony could sense his spouse's irritation when he walked into the kitchen.
"Interesting to come home and not see the kids on some sort of electronic device." Tony greets and kisses Stephen. "Hi Duchess. What's wrong?"
"Until further notice, I've shut down all electronics and the internet." Stephen huffs and Tony shrugs.
"You know what? I could use the break. I'll even have an excuse if Pepper sends me twenty thousand emails."
The two oldest boys look up from their game and balk at him. They were hoping Stephen would have calmed down when Tony got home, or that their father would at least get the internet back up, but they were typical parents. If one made a punishment, the other enforced it.
"But I have homework!" Peter exclaims.
"I do too!" Harley says.
Tony takes off his sunglasses. "Well you should have thought about that before you did... whatever it is you did." He looks at Stephen. "What did they do?"
"I'm not just punishing our children. It affects the team too." Stephen says and picks up the pot to drain the pasta. "Someone ate my cake and until they fess up, no one is getting anything done."
"Your triple chocolate cake that you had in the fridge?" Tony asks, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes! I was very much looking forward to it after the long day I had yesterday and this morning--" Stephen rants until Tony interrupts him.
"You mean the triple chocolate cake you ate two days ago while we were in bed and watching a movie together?"
There was a pregnant pause with only the sound of water draining from the colander until Stephen slowly set the empty pot aside and turned to regard his husband. All of the kids were staring at the sorcerer at this point, and considering the blush that was creeping onto Stephen's cheeks, it was safe to assume that he had completely forgotten.
"I...um...that does sound familiar now that you mention it." Stephen mumbles.
Tony chuckles. "Oh, honey…the mom in you is on autopilot that you're starting to forget your indulgences." He leans forward and gives the younger man another peck on the lips. "Tell you what, I'll order you another piece so you can have it after dinner."
Stephen coughs and turns to look at the kids and clears his throat in embarrassment. "I believe I owe you all an apology...so I'm sorry. Victor, you can turn everything back on."
"Right away, Doctor." The AI responds.
"Considering what you do for us, I think we can forgive you." Peter says with a smile. "If any of us did what you do, we'd probably forget something like that too."
"But we have learned something from this!" Harley says and Stephen raises an eyebrow.
"And what would that be?"
"How petty Mom can get over chocolate." Thomas answers.
Stephen actually chuckled a bit at that, and true to Tony's promise, he got another piece of his triple chocolate cake. Which he enjoyed with a hot cup of tea after getting the girls into bed and the boys were occupied with homework. Peter did hear a quiet moan which was evidence enough that the sorcerer was enjoying his chocolate, but knew it would escalate so he closed the door for the blessed sound proofing.
He knew his parents after all.
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rotten-games · 3 years ago
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How would the ROTT and COI ROs react to seeing pictures (or paintings I guess for the ROTT ROs??) of the MC as a baby/kid?
It's a mystery 🤔
Due to mc only showing up at Blackhearth a bit older, it would be an 8 year old child picture.
RotT
Ardwen: Tease you mercilessly.
Arke: Well, considering he's seen you as a younger chikd I can't imagine he'd be particularly surprised by a slightly younger mc. He might tease you a little about being more babyfaced then?
Bex: He'd fawn over you. "You were so cute back then!" Sort of deal.
Cal: "Oh, so you really were cute, once."
Druvel: "I think I much prefer you like this, thanks." He'd shrug.
Emil: He'd look between you and the photo with a pout. "No fair!" He'd mutter, "You looked cute as a child, I look like a lump of wrinkles!" And then he'd proceed to show you his baby pictures.
Ettia: "I've seen it before. Never hurts to see it again." You know. Like a God.
Gwyn: "I've seen it before." It's a lie. He's never seen this child before in his life.
Herron: He'd feel awkward just looking at your baby pictures so he'd dig some of his own up a few weeks later. The only problem? They'd all be pictures of a teenage Herron rather than a baby one, he never really thought to grab baby paintings when he left home.
Keller: "I'm not familiar with this," She'd admit, "I don't think I have any pictures of myself except maybe... hmm. Maybe if I ever return home I can show you."
Korrin: "Ah, yes, baby pictures. A milestone in all relationships." They'd grin at you knowingly. "Wish I had some of my own, but they all burned in a mysterious fire. No one ever caught the culprit."
Lokeira: "Why are you showing me this, I like you as you are." Then he'd proceed to climb into your lap, hesitating, "Wait. You don't want a child, do you?"
Let's say his family wasn't familiar with the concept of baby pictures.
Necrolym: "Well," He'd joke, "You've certainly done a lot of growing since then."
Nox: "Ew," She'd joke. Kind of.
Qora: She'd hesitate, "Are... are you trying to hint at something?" You aren't, but she suggests adopting a cat or something a few weeks later.
Severa: "You're not suggesting we adopt a kid, are you?"
Spotter: another one who'd fawn over you.
CoI
Allard: "Cute. But I happen to like the current you." For non-romantic reasons, obviously.
Carol: She'd roll her eyes but happily look through all the photos with you. You know, like a normal person.
Doc: She'd glance at you, offer you a small smile, and put aside her things. "As much as I'd like to share my own, well. Best not."
Lowrie: They'd pull a face, purely in jest, then scoot closer and throw in a few photos of their own.
Harley: They'll pass you a drink of your choice (water if non-alcoholic), sit down, and laugh at ugly baby photos with you.
Ridley: "Oh, a child." They pause, "Oh, YOU as a child. Cute."
Mordred: He has most definitely seen those pictures before partially because mc2 probably showed them lmao. Regardless, he is gonna give you shit about it.
Arthur: One brow raises, "You telling me something here?"
Adrastea: "That is the single ugliest creature I've ever seen--oh, it's you?" They find a wry smile, "Not much has changed, then."
Perci: "I was a child once," She says completely deadpan before shooting you a grin, "And I'm still cute as shit. You on the other hand..."
Deimos: "What is that, can I eat it?" He's joking. Probably.
Dagda: Hell yeah they're looking at baby photos of you! Expect much squealing.
Saga: "Ew," They say, completely genuinely. They pause, glance at you, "This isn't your way of saying you want a kid, is it?"
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imasimpforstevengrant · 4 years ago
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His (Part one)
Edit by the wonderful 💕💕💕 joker_jessica295
Instagram: @joker_jessica295
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Special thanks to @neon-umbrella-for-stella (thank you so much for the ideas!) and @darkshadow90 for the tips on certain scenes 💕💕
• Author’s note¹: Another Arthur/Harley smut. Yes. It took me more than seven months to write it, based one a suggestion from a reader on a different take.
• A/N ²: 447 FOLLOWERS? WHEN tHE HELL DID I GET SO MANY?! THANK YOU SO MUCH OMG
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Summary: A piece more centered in Harleen and her feelings towards Arthur,  Flashbacks to the first meeting and kiss. More sex comes after their first night together as they open up about each other. Meanwhile, a clown has stirred Gotham City by murdering three young Wayne employees, awakening a popular fascination which not even Harleen won’t escape from. She doesn’t know this (wrongly) crowned hero is closer than she thinks.
Warnings: insecurity, self-hatred, swearing, darker Arthur ahead (possessive, lusty, crossing boundaries), age gap, strong sexual themes, sexual humor, oral sex (male receiving), fluff, breast oral stimulation, dirty talk, mild praise kink, possessive, unprotected sex.
WC: +9.946 (IT’S LONG I KNOW… I hope you don’t get bored!)
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November would mark one year since she got to Bronx Apartment after finishing her studies in Gotham’s University, obtaining a degree as a psychologist. Harleen was blessed with an exceptional intuition and a brilliant memory, this preventing her to burn her eyes away studying day and night for exams.
Once finished, she got a job as a therapist in social services. It had been hard to get but Harleen used her charm to convince the man she was ardently committed to social causes. A few smiles to the old, drooling creep during interviews and she got what she wanted. But with the unemployment rate increasing in the city, Harleen knew crisis couldn’t be avoided with a charming smile. Resenting her situation but with no other option, Harleen obtained a job as a bartender in shifts, most of them at night.
She was a frequent target of blatant ogling and indecent comments from men of all ages to which Harleen always replied with sarcasm that either scared them off or ended up with men insulting her under their breath. The first two months in the building were boring and gloomy, until she saw him.
Harleen had seen him a few times. He always seemed so mad, so drawn within himself and yet there was something oddly attractive about him. If not beautiful, it was certainly intriguing. He was the neighbor the other residents warned her about: the laughing guy from the eighth floor. Some told her he was ugly, deranged and creepy. Harleen got her first impression of him during a day off: she went for a drink when the mail boxes, surrounded by a small cage, were checked by the mysterious man.
There he was. The guy was wearing the usual yellow hoodie, navy blue pants, brown vest and a white polka-dotted shirt. Shoes were worn as much as his outfit, hair slicked back, gaze focused on the box that seemed eternally empty. She then noticed the frown that hardened his features, reinforcing the idea that he was always angry, while asking herself some questions about him. Who was he? What did he do for a living? Was he married? Did he have children? He looked old enough to have them.
What was his name?
She would have never imagined she’d figured it out months later. It was one particular night she went out to a party just to return home a little drunk. A catchy song refused to leave her mouth, while dancing in a lively way were enough to get the attention of the loner. He returned from getting his medicines. Hunched pace tracing his way back home, Arthur saw the young recently graduated young lady dancing shamelessly in the hall. She wore a short red dress and her lips shone in crimson gloss.
The image of her hair flowing, creating a blue and pink spectrum of colors turned out to be so unusual and beautiful that immediately sent involuntary visions of her in sexual situations. He hated the idea of her being out of his reach but felt a modest share of satisfaction just by seeing her. This became a common practice on his routine, with Harleen being completely unaware of it. She only saw her mysterious neighbor a few times from then, probably because he had to work. A lot, from what she could tell.
It was Thursday in the evening when she returned from the theater. Harleen was thankful she was on the taxi when the rain started. It was a small luxury she could gift herself after working so hard. She thought her day couldn’t get better when back home when she’d finally get what she wanted for so long.
Once in the elevator bag, in hand, she saw him. The door opening revealed the crestfallen individual, always withdrawn in his thoughts. That would explain why he almost jumped out in shock when he saw her, as if she was some kind of ghost. Harleen finally found the courage to grin and speak up.
“Hi”. One kind greet was enough to freeze him. At the same time, Arthur stared at her, examining the funny hairstyle that embellished her. Simple but pretty: a white sweater and jeans with short boots and a blue bag hanging from her left arm. Buns held her hair, blue the left one, pink the other one. A few platinum locks fell over her neck.
“Hi”, he finally replied. Doubt made his vocal chords tremble. His stare betrayed everything he felt for her, showing even how surprised he was for a woman like her to talk to him. He did his best to return the grin, his lips curving into a sneaky, playful one. Something inside Harleen trembled. Of all the reactions she expected, this was certainly an unexpected surprise. It was like a powerful bolt whipping her body. The odd attractiveness of her older neighbor caught her off guard. She did not expect him to actually have… charm.
There was something that tainted his unique beauty, however. She couldn’t help but stare in silent horror at the small bruise on his eye and a dry trace of blood on the bottom lip. His deep silence and mirthless look on his eyes despite the smile carved a deep wound in Harleen’s soul. He looked so destroyed and yet he managed to be polite enough to reply. She now paid attention to the adorable dimples embellishing his smile. The only thing she could do was smile back, not imagining the magnitude of the feelings she would unleash on him.
The bell rang. Harleen suddenly felt bad to leave for her flat, desiring just a few more seconds to appreciate his features. But she wasn’t willing to lose and her generosity gifted him an awkward but cute hand gesture, which Arthur took a long time to respond to. The absolute amazement in his eyes turned out to be an unexpectedly pleasant shock. That smile… so distant from the serious expression that usually carved his features, lost inside his thoughts.
Once in her flat, Harleen was incapable to stop thinking about him. And that wasn’t the only problem. Thoughts replayed the charming smile over and over again and became particularly intrusive while undressing to take a hot shower. She wanted to know more about him by being subtle, to increase the thrill this stranger had caused to her.
Probably the premise of “opposites attract” took a special meaning for the two of them, causing an authentic interest over the loner’s magnetism, not imagining how much of a surprise he’d turn out to be. What Harleen would have never thought was that the loner was also immensely interested in her…
Through fleeting glimpses of a yellow hoodie, she learned she had a secret admirer (this being a soft epithet for what it was actually an stalker).
Harleen became aware of it after noticing there was always a tall, thin man lurking in the shadows of the buildings in front of the playground she was always in during nighttime. It also happened while she was jogging or hanging on a rope to avoid any further danger lately. The latter was more interesting for him, given she could notice him better: still, predacious, not missing any second of watching her involved in such graceful moves, like floating in the air.
Harleen was sly, of course. She knew she was gorgeous. And the notion of being unreachable was highlighted by adding more sensual moves in this effective way to attract him, assuming the unpleasant cost of being constantly catcalled by other men. But of course her efforts paid off: the long expected meeting would occur on September. She actually expected another day to play innocent and let him stare at her instead of an actual interaction. A few pedestrians passed by, following a series of unpleasant whistling and blatant sexual commentaries.
But she couldn’t care less now, noticing it took him longer for him to show himself up through the dim lights in comparison to other days.
Harleen kept doing her job, however, repeating and extending the same moves to maintain her anxiety at bay. This resulted in more pirouettes so she could catch the familiar glimpse of the yellow hoodie near the darkened corner he usually stopped by to stare. The exercise turned out to be so pleasant that almost made her forget her initial goal, her focus now being to make a risky but stylish twirl.
There were no whistles or any indecent comments this time. Just a soft chuckle that evidently showed his amazement at the pirouette broke the deaf car honks, far screams from angry people that shattered the already silent place. Her swinging form immediately got down while trying not to lose the composure, calling him.
But far from what she expected, the man reacted horrified just to run away. She wasn’t going to give up, quickly jogging towards the fence that separated them.
“Hey!” she extended one hand, clawing herself with the other one. The hooded shadow stood there, panicking. He couldn’t bring himself to disappear in the dark, which made him look like a malevolent spirit.
“Come back!” she yelled, waving her hand incessantly to convince him to return, daring him to answer for such tenebrous and creepy attraction for her. It seemed her call paid off, since the man had no intentions to keep running, choosing to walk his uncertainty away through disoriented circles. He suddenly stopped walking, standing completely still now. Harleen rose an eyebrow, honestly expecting what he would do now. 
That man had issues for sure.
The idea soon morphed into a fact. Once she saw him coming closer to her to finally face her, she found herself unable to hold back a gasp to discover it was precisely her handsome but distant neighbor she had seen so many times and the reason why she had let him cross the line. She liked intense emotions, and something told her this man could give her a good thrill. The loner, for his part, turned around and almost tripped once realizing the short proximity between them.
It was certainly shocking to see an apparently cold, aloof individual who never talked with such searing lust in his eyes. Her hands now clawed at the fence, her icy blue eyes stared at him, feeling a shiver down her spine while she their glare revealed more things about him, one being his complete bewitch (or more like aroused) hearing his breath becoming more and more shortened.  But there was also a glimpse of guilt, lips twitching as if he was repressing a word or even a kiss, she’d dared to say.
The darkness highlighted the odd yet irresistible attractiveness that stole her heart, tracing a smile on her lips. He set his eyes down her body, ending the visual enjoyment focusing on the striking, extravagant mane that reached the upper part of her hips.
“You’ve been enjoying my show, have you?”, she went straight to the point.
A reply came out ringing in a remorseful, broken whisper:
“Yeah”
His name was Arthur. Harleen couldn’t be happier to finally know it, repeating it while taking her time to savor it.
Arthur Fleck.
Nothing prepared her to witness the very thing he was known for, however: the pained, cursed laugh that now resounded through the air.
At first she thought it was genuine but the horrifying shameful look warned her about his desperate attempt to stop and to breathe. The cackles were frustrating and, worse yet, exhausting to the point it made him lose balance while trying his best to look for something inside his pocket. She climbed up the fence to finally make direct contact with him. That seemed to shock him enough to distract his features in a more skeptical expression at the first time someone showing him kindness rather than giving him the usual disgusted stare.
A plastic, worn out card explaining his condition came from his pocket. The fit diminished to painful hiccups to tired sobs, relieved by a few reassuring words to make the stranger stay. It followed with a small talk about Thomas Wayne, unemployment in Gotham City and revealing each other’s “do for a living” but the topic of conversation seemed off. She could tell Arthur wasn’t used to social interaction, noticing how much it took him to find a tone and words to reply coherently. He never lost a sight of her, never taking his gaze off her as she spoke. The blonde felt actual amazement on the intense lust she had awakened on him, motivating her to test him, to see what things he would do to her in a more intimate place.
They arrived to the building. Harleen led her guest to her humble flat. Arthur was fascinated by the pink neon lights that banished the darkness to plunge his senses in a pleasurable, dreamlike numbness. They continued talking. Her flirty attitude and smiles made Arthur feel he was living the best night of his life. The loner was too lost in her bicoloured mane. A small smirk traced his lips, forming those dimples she secretly admired so much.
“It looks like cotton candy”, his mutter rang through her mind, resounding like a small demeanor confessed with relief. The sweet compliment was rewarded, subsequently, with a short, noisy kiss on his forehead. The action quickly makes him recoil for a few seconds, as her memory remembered, just to feel confident enough now to unleash a furious, hungry kiss on her lips. This violent outburst of passion had her lips against his dry, cracked lips, shocking her at first to eventually surrender and responding to the kiss. His inexperience was clear from the beginning but she had more of a convincing proof that the vehemence of the touch starved was, sometimes, more arousing than the dexterity of an experienced lover.
The sound of their lips breaking the caress made the sexual tension even more unbearable. He apologized; covering his mouth like punishing himself for behaving like a deranged creep but Harleen was just too impressed and lost after the spontaneous gesture, praising him for his passion instead of screaming at him. She had already accepted she’d never yearn for another lips except his.
It wasn’t easy for him, however. His rigid posture put in evidence his shame at the (obvious) first intimate contact he held with an actual person. With her head tilting tenderly, Harleen put a rebel curl behind his ear. He shrugged, stepping back, maybe processing the word she chose to describe him. As if that wasn’t enough, Arthur was too self-absorbed in his visible fascination over her chest. There was more than mere lust in his gaze over his disturbing fixation on her bosom, a far cry for the abandonment and yearning for intimacy but being too afraid to show it. Harleen fought the persistent (and reckless, utterly reckless, she had to recognize) urge to grab his hand and let them knead her soft forms, getting him to know her more personally.
Instead, Harleen took his hands on hers, caressing them tenderly. A defeated sigh, at last, made him regain composure. His whisper sounded broken but clear, much to her joy.
“Can you please...?” Arthur wasn’t able to even to complete the plea as the blonde closed her eyes slowly as her face broke distance with his to once again experiment the clouding, soaring euphoria their careless closeness brought with it. The party clown had a hard time processing the warm and maddening sensation of her lips on his, convincing himself that this was no hallucination. They took their time, finding the perfect angle to get a better caress from each other: Harleen had the initiative throwing her arms to his neck, causing the loner to respond by locking his arms around her waist.
Intimacy became too overwhelming when her tongue tried to play with his. The lovers laughed the nervousness off as the kiss finished momentarily to recover from the numbness. But he went back to devouring her to memorize every little sensation, growing more and more confident, tilting his head now to obtain a better taste of her mouth. It proved to be too much for him, however. She sadly felt him distancing from the embrace, most probably because his old fashioned ways deemed improper to sleep with a woman he just had met.
She felt so many things that fateful night misting her senses to verbalize her thoughts. But one thing was for sure:
She would burn Gotham to see him smile. 
*-*-*
It was 09:33 am according to the green bluish digits on the old clock, light drizzle falling over Gotham City. A disheveled, yawing Harleen woke up by herself. Laziness held her muscles still until her stomach made clear that breakfast was a must.
She put on black shorts and a grey, long sleeved-shirt, combing her hair to then make a couple pretty braids that fell over her torso. The combination of pink and electric blue was pleasant to the sight, as the mirror revealed. Soon after the observation, she contemplated the empty space left by her lover: Arthur Fleck. She closed her eyes.
That name sounded (or more like tasted) so different now. The memory of this lonely, sad man turned into a sex crazed lunatic still shocked her, as her facial expressions brought out. The fierce passion he had just loved her with turned out to be hard to be believed considering how deprived he was of human contact.
It wasn't just the thrill of surprise but the tenderness of his vulnerability, an aspect whose contrast between despite looking twice as older than her and being a late bloomer just highlighted their affair: Arthur was so different in intimacy, letting go of that repression that harmed his soul since he understood his needs as a man. She smiled, still thinking about what they had done. The thought led her to look for him while her vision became sharper, slowly overcoming the persistent need to go back to sleep.
When she stepped outside her room, a chuckle reverberated through the air, making her come to her senses. Eyes blinking, a pleasant feel of lightheadedness befogging her mind as the silence was broken by a familiar voice.
“Knock, knock”. Harleen was still too sleepy to catch a clear glimpse of the loner behind her who, in turn, locked her form as if she was a prey.
"Huh?" she hummed, confused. But there was no verbal response from him. Arthur reacted kissing her neck with ferocious passion, holding her figure possessively, absorbing her scent. The blonde made an instinctive futile attempt to free herself to recover from the scare the sudden grasp had caused on her. A breathy whisper in her ear dissuaded any intention to undo the embrace.
“You’re supposed to ask who's there”
Harleen turned around, her long blond hair tickling his face. He wasn't gone but by God, she was thankful for that. Arthur undid the hug, directing his hands to her face to press kisses on it repeatedly.
"Mr. Fleck--" the blonde murmured, "I thought you were back on the business making people smile". Arthur smirked. A high pitched giggle left his mouth. He now directed his fingers to feel those attention drawn to her gorgeous, full pink lips.
"I am right now" the loner leaned his forehead against hers. Now that her vision was slightly clearer, she noticed Arthur had left her flat for a moment, given he was wearing a red sweater he didn't bring before. The loner then proceeded to take a black wand off his sleeve, offering it to her. Harleen giggled and took it, deciding to play his game. The object lost its rigid shape, causing Arthur to laugh at her disappointed reaction. He demonstrated his aptitudes as a party clown taking back the wand just for it to regain rigidity once on his hand. He whistled, adding a funny sound as he shook it against his other hand, checking its stiffness.
"What are you doing?" Harleen seemed completely taken by the action, her smile encouraging him to finally offer her the aforementioned wand as a bunch of flowers while humming a song. A tender, excited scream made him chuckle as her hands stopped shaking to hold carefully the gift. It had plenty of feathers of different colors but she loved the simplicity of it.
"Thank you" she placed them in the table, along a small pot of flowers.
Harleen stared at him, tenderly. All Arthur could do was smile, holding her hands briefly on his to then slide one up her arm to reach her face. She suppressed a gasp, which seemed to change the course of the original touch in thought, as his hand recoiled for a moment to return with more intensity to her face.
"We had one hell of a good fuck, Mr. Fleck" Harleen whispered, intertwining her fingers with his. Arthur burst out laughing as her swearing manners still made a great impact against his older ways. But he liked her honesty, nonetheless.
"I think we woke up the whole building" Harleen laughed.
“I don’t see the problem with that”.
“I never said it was“, Arthur replied, cocky. A deep intake of breath then happened, “You know I—“he stammered, nervous. With a cute giggle, the blonde slid down her hands through the soft fabric of his half buttoned shirt that left a glimpse of his chest, invigorating him to keep on. Arthur stared at her, not a word from his mouth, enticingly.
“I-- was just wondering-- what else we can do", he kept on after seconds passed by, trying to catch her mouth with his, nuzzling her face, “’because-- I told my mother I had a call—“, he continued, “from work… so I'd stay away from my apartment for a while. I need some—“he took another deep breath, trying to find the courage to look at her in the eye to pronounce his intentions.
“I need some space, Harleen…” Arthur stared up and down at her figure, hands sliding up the collarbone to rub her shoulders, persuading her to be an accomplice of this reprehensible deed, "but not alone”. The words, though flawed in pronunciation, were perfect to keep her gaze lost as if Arthur had cast a spell on her.
“I plan to have you all for myself today and I'm--" he closed his eyes, hiding his face in her neck, sniffing her hair while trying to voice his intentions despite the nervousness that made him stammer, "I'm eager to know you more personally".
Harleen was actually shocked with what she just heard. A mixture of utter tenderness and searing lust made her blood boil. Did he lie to his own mom to spend more time with her?
"Well with the riots out there, bar is closed for a couple of days so consider it your lucky day” her voice chirped in joy. His eyes shone with modest but genuine happiness at the good news. Then he smiled, flaunting those crooked teeth Harleen loved so much.
The blonde felt she was about to kneel and unzip his pants to give him the reward he deserved for such gesture when her stomach claimed for some food, impeding the spontaneous sexual fantasy to become real, earning a disapproving look on his face. It took them time to regain calmness, as their laborious breaths tried to cool down the fire inside them.
“Why are you doing that?” his tone of voice revealed impatience, leading her to express the idea to have some good meal before any intimacy could take place, causing his displeased expression to turn into a wide smirk.
“Great!” Arthur chuckled, granting her some personal space.
They made their way to the kitchen. Arthur took a sit while waiting, taking a cigarette to light it. Harleen quickly prepared the table, taking the electric kettle to fill it with water to pour it on the coffee machine, putting bread on the toaster and turning the radio on in hopes to increase the domestic bliss. The smoke filled the room but she couldn't care less. The news announced a cold, rainy week while announcing a new episode of the Murray Franklin’s show presenting a famous actor as a guest next week given the release of the film he recently starred in the next week. The announcement ended with a shortened version of the groovy organ of Frank Sinatra’s anthem “That’s Life” which Arthur hummed along. But as soon as the theme song ended on a fade out, he silenced himself to hear, much to his annoyance according to the tired, throaty groan that followed the happy hum, a reporter pronouncing the news related to the continuation of the garbage strike.
Both stood completely silent as the report that exposed most of Gotham's slums to insalubrities. The fear of the possibility to catch a severe disease was reinforced by the citizens who claimed to have seen the rat population increase. The piece of news changed to the Mayoral election, which seemed difficult given the riots and general dissatisfaction of Gotham citizens with unemployment rate and apparent authority's indifference in the matter. The note ended with Thomas Wayne promising order and prosperity if elected. More announcements followed, but the lovers didn’t pay any attention to it. His great displeasure caused Harleen to turn off the device.
"I just can't understand how my mother thinks he's gonna help us" his hand took the cigarette back to his mouth, adding that just because she worked for him more than thirty years ago did not mean he had the obligation to run in aid for her. Arthur rolled his eyes, making clear his profound dislike for people like him and the insufferable infatuation Penny felt for him.  
“I’ve told her so many times she doesn’t have to worry about money. Everyone is telling me my stand ups are ready to make it on the big clubs”.
Harleen nodded, enthusiastic at the possibility of Arthur getting a name for himself in the stage.
“I’m not the man of the house for nothing”.
Harleen took the toasted bread and coffee kettle to the table.
“Man of the house, huh?”
“Yes, since I can remember. But even I need a break” he took another long drag, his lost look causing a deep sorrow on Harleen.
She lamented the prolonged solitude that caused him to pronounce such wounded words, hoping (maybe in an unconscious way to cope with stress) to get out the pain it caused him. The blonde extended her hand towards his, in a sweet attempt to cure or, at least, relieve his pain.
His absent gaze combined with the smile caused Harleen to feel a shiver down her spine. She laughed nervously to later pour the coffee in his mug to fill her own later. He didn’t laugh, staring at her and rubbing his forehead with his thumb. This dark glint promised her so many things, and few of them were good. He wasn’t afraid anymore to hide his intentions from her, seeing the affection was mutual. She could also see a spark of pride, engulfing his mind in another deep state of absent thoughtfulness. He pronounced no words, looking now at the recently poured coffee, whose steam slowly diminished to long twirls to nearly invisible white lines. She slowly and carefully extended her hand to his arm to convince him to leave the cigarette aside just to grab the large plate full of breads.
“Aren’t you a cute, little pleaser?”
The tender name immediately washed the worry away from her face while a reddish hue colored her cheeks. Arthur finally gave it a bite, cigarette finally left on the ashtray. The crunchy sound gave Harleen almost a cathartic relief. Whenever the chance to nurture him showed up she didn’t think twice to do it. He left the half eaten piece of bread aside to divert his attention to her.
“You wanna hear a joke?” the playful tone of voice and mischievous smirk made his face adopt such a devilishly appeal Harleen was unable to resist.
“Yes!” she said it as if that could convince him to have one more toast. 
“Why are poor people so confused?” his grin drew those adorable dimples in his face again.
“I don’t know” a frisky look gleamed in her eyes. 
“Because they don’t have any cents” he answered, before his voice exploded in a loud cackle. Harleen laughed at the simplicity of it. He was actually a funny guy, if only life could have been more generous to him. Bless his soul for making people laugh in such hard times.
Harleen was too lost in his joyful expression beyond if the joke was funny or not. His green eyes shone with a special light in the rare moments he could be in tune with his surroundings. It was as magical as seeing a shooting star. How she wished to take away the pain from him just to see his beautiful smile more often.
Throwing a smoking puff to the air, Arthur leaned in as if to tell her a secret.
“This is the first time someone is so nice to me", the loner confessed, shaking his head. He looked so lost, eyes following the smoke elevating in a single line undone by the move to breathe in the last remains of the cigarette. His personal battle against his warped perception of reality still gnawed his trust on her. A tender pout formed in her lips.
“You’re the first person who doesn’t feel uncomfortable around me” he muttered.
Her thoughts drifted to a greater, sadder horror: to make a difference in such a dark, mirthless man’s life just for being kind barely managed to even imagine the inhuman hardships he had been through during all his life. She lowered her head, trying to resist the actual pain in her chest. How a sentence that was so heartbreaking could also be so beautiful?
“I’m sorry, Arthur”. Her eyebrows arch in a sad expression that seemed to make him reconnect with reality.
“For what?” he frowned, confused. She tightened her eyelids, trying not to embarrass herself in front of him with such an explosive display of emotions, silencing her sobs the best way she could allow herself.  
“Everything” Harleen finished. His instinct ordered him to show distrust, unconsciously trying to find any trace of lies. Nobody ever had apologized or even shed a tear for him. As he realized her care was genuine, his mind replayed the phrase over and over again while trying to process these intense, new feelings blooming in his heart over the typical, negative thoughts ghosting around his mind.
“Oh, no.  No, no, no, no, no. Don’t do that” Arthur reacted panicked, “please…” his fingers dried the watery creeks, “don’t make that face to me. I’m here to put a smile on your face”.
He inhaled deeply, before continuing:
“You know… a famous comedian used to say… uh –“ his troubled mind tried to remember the name but then opted to articulate a coherent word to elude anything that could ridicule him –‘a day without a smile is a wasted day’.
A soft hum left her mouth, though a far shadow of sadness still haunted the tender quote.
“You know what I like about you, Arthur?”
“Yeah?” he was genuinely intrigued to know.
“You could even put the fun in a funeral”
His wide and evil grin, made her put a loose lock of hair behind her ear as a result of an involuntary move to cope with the nervousness.
“Fun in a funeral?” he repeated, a loud and moved hum sounding like a purr, staring at her while a chuckle shook his shoulders, “How sweet”.
How didn’t he realize how attractive he actually was? She asked herself surprised.
“Come here” Arthur patted his thigh loud enough for her to listen to it for her to reply. After drying the creeks coming from her reddened eyes, Harleen calmly got up from the chair. Arthur took distance from the table to allow her a comfortable sit. His fingers held her cheeks to create a smile despite her watery eyes.
Harleen blinked, and a tear escaped. Arthur brushed it away once it ran over her face. He thought she looked pretty when she cried, though. She gave him a sad smile and soon found solace in his face, ruffling the fluffy hair to distract her mind from any unhappy thought. Arthur closed his eyes, slowly caressing her thighs in sensual payback for her little attentions.
Once their foreheads found each    other, the blonde muttered:
“How’s that feel?”
“Feels… good” he hummed against her mouth. His lungs inhaled deep before adding:
“I thought I felt better when I was locked in the hospital”.
Harleen widened her eyes in surprise, taking a short distance from him, not knowing if it was another self deprecating joke or the truth, given the defeated tone the sentence was pronounced in.
“What?” but a castdown look was all she needed to figure out the sadness such place caused on him. It wasn’t a secret Arkham was a human dump, considering it held Gotham’s most demented and dangerous criminals and unfortunate souls who couldn’t go anywhere else. Harleen’s eyes widen in a horrified expression.
“Arthur” her hand caressed his cheek, worried about the lightness he seemed to take his life, she tenderly tilted her head, “why were you locked up in that place?”
His tone of voice revealed his annoyance mentioning that place. He shamelessly nuzzled her right breast, trying to avoid the subject:
“Who knows, maybe I lost it or tried to kill myself...I just didn't want to feel so bad”. Arthur gazed up to her. He had never been more honest in his life.
Her horrified reaction to be told being locked up, bashing his head against the wall almost everyday just reminded him how much worse was to have a significant other who made him feel alone. Months surrounded by people in white outfits, convincing him to take the pills to make him, at least, presentable to the world and also deprived of any loving contact from Penny’s part under the excuse of fright caused by doctor or anything related to hospitals. It reminded him how pathetic his life was. Sometimes he forgot how much forgiving he was with his mother’s recklessness concerning his own wellbeing.  
Her kiss on his forehead, however, seemed to bring him back to reality. Arthur felt he had awakened of a bad dream, but found himself amazed as he noticed he wasn’t alone with a blanket on while an alarm buzzed, as it was his usual routine. The loner stared at her as if he was seeing her for the first time. Her blue eyes, dilated pupils, body full given in to him. The loner blinked, eyes half closed, fighting the dissociation.
“Arthur” she called him. He looked dizzy. The blonde felt a pulsing heat making a place between her legs when the loner held her waist to lift her figure in order for it to adopt a riding position. She gasped, clawing to his shoulder once her figure obtains the desired position.
“What is it?” she whispered. But there was nothing except for a dead silence. Maybe it was another relapse of a dissociative episode, which made his mind to distract so any negative thought would fade. He panted, hiding his face against the silky platinum braid falling over her breast. The blonde didn’t move an inch, anxiously expecting to know what he would do now. He was so hard to read most of the times, leaving so many doubts and thoughts capable to drift anyone off sanity. Maybe he just didn’t want to talk. Maybe he just wanted to bond through touches.
Harleen felt a shiver once his mouth kissed the covered breast, playfully nuzzling with the erect nipple highlighted by the thin fabric. Blood boiled, as if her body demanded immediately to respond to such attentions.
She could tell Arthur was immensely pleased at her receptiveness concerning sex. His breath shortened, fighting the lightheadedness their suggestive position caused on him, loving how her body rode his hips, like a thrilling prelude before any intimate encounter could take place.
An impish, seductive smile must have given him the hint to keep on but he was way too shocked at first to react immediately. Harleen tugged on the shirt for it to loosen enough in order to offer him a privileged view of her bare breast, awaiting his mouth to finish what it just started, setting aside a few obstructing locks. Arthur’s jaw dropped, a line traced by pleasure soon contorted his lips. She hummed softly, admiring the sight of the loner hungrily lapping his tongue over the pink areola.
“You’re such a surprise for a late bloomer” the blonde leaves a beautiful, mischievous expression take over her face. Arthur detached his lips from her to ask:
“You calling me ��old’, Harleen?”
“No!” she rushed to explain herself. The sassy tone of the question eased down any thought of annoyance, “I just—”
“I may look old, but I’m a fast learner” he cut her off, mouth back on the sensitive part. Harleen threw her head back, not showing any sign of opposition while Arthur clumsily undid the garment to leave her topless. This only ignited the fire inside of him, hanging on to her waist to sink his head between her breasts, rejoicing in the softness of her skin as his arms imprison her body. The elation wasn’t strong enough yet to stun her muscles entirely, gaining a little strength to make paused (or more like patient) undulatory moves against his body. His eyelashes flutter, causing tickles up her chest.
"I want you to put more than just a smile on my face" she caught his bottom lip to devour his mouth hungrily. He consented the kiss but didn’t respond to it, not even bothering to close his eyes.
"And what would that be, Harleen?" he looked genuinely puzzled, intense hue of green piercing her soul. She combed his hair back, sliding her hands down to hold his face in them. Arthur felt like a youngling in love for the first time. And having her covered intimacy grinding the growing bulge swept away all rational thoughts, making him listen to his needs as a man for the first time without overthinking ruining it.
Harleen supported on his shoulders, intensifying the sinful friction. Arthur groaned, relaxing when she generously offered his body another warm rub that was close to send him to heaven. On his face a deep feel of pride and complacency traces his lines given the arousing effects he had on her. Shuddered and impressed gasps left their mouths, until her voice sounds again:
“You’re so hard. That’s a very good thing” a secretive whisper kept him enchanted, her flirtatious glare invites him to get up. Arthur frowned but let himself guide by her when the steps were directed towards the wall, where Harleen didn't hesitate to corner him with famished kisses, feeling his chest underneath the red shirt.
The blonde slowly undid his shirt to obtain a proper look of his upper body to worship with her mouth, starting with the neck, nuzzling a few curls out of the way to brush her lips against the curve lining down his collarbone.
His whole form shrugged, writhing and panting. The dubious nature of this situation  slowly dissipated to allow him to enjoy the treatment her mouth gifted now to the notorious prominence coming from his neck, not missing any inch of skin with her lips.
It didn’t take long for his pants to turn into needy groans as soon as his chest was blessed with kisses, then his abdomen, the blonde was careful to not overwhelm him, holding on a few seconds before continuing to reach her goal: Mouth waters at the sight of his the rigid manhood covered by his pants, giving it a tiny nibble.
The mood was immediately killed when Arthur jolted in shock when he finally realized what she was going to do.
The irruption visibly took her by surprise, facial expressions changing from excitement to disappointment.
“Did I…?” she stammered, shrugging in fear, “did I do something wrong?”
He sighed, sliding his hand on his hair in a nervous reflex. Harleen then remembered this was new for him, despite how much enthusiastic he was. How much violence had he faced during all his life, she would never know.
Arthur cleared his throat, inhaling deeply, still processing all those hands on his body with the sole purpose to pleasure him.
“No, no”, he rushed. His voice quavers, afraid a laughing fit could ruin a intimate moment he had longed for so much with a girl, trying to put his mind in order, “This is the first time someone does this to me... and that feels like a good thing to begin…”
A bright smile returned to her face when one hand held up her chin while the other one caressed her cheek in a tender approval of what she was going to perform on him.
“You want this…” she seductively stared up to him, while her hands unbuttoned his pants, obtaining what she just craved: the underwear contains the hardened member, which she frees with a quick fumble on the clothing.
Arthur stared at his private spectacle in hypnotized ecstasy, still trembling.
“Yes…” he hissed, “oh yes, I do”.
Harleen took a few seconds to admire the twitching, aching arousal held in her hand. She smiled as her eyes were up to look at him.
“Then feed me some candy, Arthur Fleck..." his jaw dropped, felt his legs tremble, lust slowly dissipating any other thought. Being addressed by his full name, certainly had an impact on him. The enticing image of a partially undressed Harleen between his legs surely made him forgot how vulnerable he was before her by exposing his almost completely bare body.
However there was not verbal response from Harleen’s part. Her firm hand caressed his erected intimacy for a delightful prolusion, keeping her lover completely in a trance, causing his nervous hands to grab in a contained, almost angry fistful of hair. Nothing prepared him for the next.
Her tongue, of course, did its wonders. First a few, paused licks to the tip while giving him sensual, playful looks to then leave wet traces down that soon derived to long, hungrier licks sent the loner in a desperate, ecstatic state.
“Godfuckingdamni--!” was all he could be capable of articulate, before any feeble attempt to form a word distorted into desirous gasps and screams, Harleen rejoices at his reactions. To be the first woman to see him free from inhibitions, given in to his instincts, shaking away his polite, silent manners felt like a privilege.
“Keep doing that” his demand was desperate, dealing with it by uncoiling a few locks.  A wide smirk approved her tongue to explore and taste more of him, feasting now on the tip to absorb it, so he could become more familiar with her mouth. The explicit image gave him the confidence to stop repressing his desires for the sake of decency.
Her greed to have a different taste of him made her take turns between moistening the full erect manhood to partially engulf it later.
He now couldn’t even stand still, writhing like a dying animal, incapable now to look at her in the eye, believing the mere sight would make him unleash his climax, hands held on to his thighs, climbing up to his hips, looking to elicit more sounds out of his throat.
His chest heavily went up and down while Harleen kept on her voluptuous routine: first oiling him with her tongue to then make the tip disappear in her mouth.
His closed eyes, completely given in with an overjoyed expression on his face moved her to cause a greater gratification on him. She waited for the right moment to make Arthur look at her so he could cherish what she had in store for him. For a more dramatic reaction, she choose to disconnect her mouth from him, the sound of her lips detaching from the tip had him about to pass out.
“You’ll love this” were the only words she said. No further explanations. Her tongue gifted him another paused, devoted lick. It worked to make the full intake more enjoyable for him. Arthur’s body rears up violently. Raspy, loud groans and moans elicited by the tease tore the air.
Harleen placed her hands on his hips, helping herself to feel more of him between her lips, staring up to him as she received his swollen, overstimulated masculinity.
Arthur gathered enough oxygen to talk to her.
“Harleen—“ his eyes widened in awe, focusing on not passing out. His chest shook violently still recovering from the initial shock, “you nev-- you never cease to amaze me”.
She let a sweetly sinful smile trace around him, bobbing her head in a faster pace, muffled moans struggling to come out as she savored the stiffened sex with voracious appetite.
“That’s it… that’s better” he hissed, lip twitching, completely bewitched by the scene, “you’re such a good fucking girl for me”.
A happy hum vibrated through his skin.
“Am I, mister Fleck?” her squeaky voice in false innocence  crowned an scene so obscenely explicit with a comic touch.
"Yeah… Like that... Just--" he gently slammed his back against the wall. Further vocal expressions of elation came from his mouth, trying to appease the urge to scream his lungs out for whole fucking Gotham to hear him. A shiver ran down his spine. It was so difficult to keep eyes open in that  moment but the need to set his sight on her triumphed over any sense of exhaustion. His worn out hand slid down to hold her nape to obey the instinct to thrust into her mouth, just to better cope with the wet, narrow warmth Harleen welcomed his manliness with.
The blonde placed her hands over his hips, executing a very subtle move to contribute to deepen the intrusion that maddened Arthur so much. The slowness of this action made her push him away to then bring him back into her over and over again, gradually increasing the rhythm that turned the party clown into a noisy, urging mess. The rapturing and breathtaking routine of her mouth colliding with his unrelenting length sparked a merciless shiver that weakened his thighs, a stunning reminder of the glorious pinnacle he was about to reach.
“Stop”, his tortured plea was unexpected.
The mesmerizing image of a joyful Harleen with him appearing and disappearing from her lips right below him at incessant speed was more than he could take without going insane. The situation was getting out of his hands when Harleen also gave it firm caresses and long, rushed licks.
“Please”, he whined, voice too weak, covering his mouth in order to quieten the moans, “oh, God--Stop!”
His command finally made Harleen react, seeing it was actually too much. It took him a moment to catch his breath and recover his strength to pronounce about his intentions.
“Arthur? Is everything okay?” she muttered.
“Take that off” his instincts took over his mind, leaning to get her up and direct his hands towards her shorts, lowering them. She doesn’t oppose, unable to respond verbally, having the feeling the behest was actually told to himself. It didn’t matter anymore. She smiled as she saw the impatient hands lining her curves, fingers clutching at the cloth to whisper, “I like it how it looks but I want it off”.
Harleen eyes the action in fervid silence while he couldn’t stop staring down at her fascinating nudity, directing one hand in a sinuous move to part her intimacy to delicately rummage the silky smooth folds he wanted so much to be wrapped around.
Harleen jolted, lolling her head back,  amazed vocal expression resounded in his ears. Her eyes gleamed with resolution about his intentions, and a shivering gasp follows the brash action. A vocal expression of mischievous complicity comes from her.
“I see… you want to fill up the tank?” she chirped with a frisky giggle.
Arthur nodded in impatient muteness, while crashing his lips on hers in such a reckless way their feet ended up nearly tripping on the way to the couch. At the same time, he got rid of his underwear, undoing her braids, bicolored mane perfectly lining her curves now.
A firm push to throw her to the couch was just the beginning. She almost landed completely on her back, if it weren’t for her arms avoiding it.
“Easy, clown man!” her expression turned out to be so funny for the loner to let a cackle loose. From her angle, Arthur looked so frighteningly dominant. It embellished his figure like a statue, his disheveled hair highlighting the hungry and desperate expression which his carnal urges claim to be sated.
The magnificent preface maintains him from a considerable distance from her, surrounding the blonde like a prey, unable to decide what to do to her first. 
Harleen makes the first move. to fulfill her purpose, she held her legs with a provocative glare, limbs hardly exposed her undressed figure to him. The wavy moves made Arthur crawl his way to her like a starving beast.
Her receptive reaction to the kiss motivated his hands to roam over her thighs, directing them up to the knee to untangle her legs, eventually.
A devilish smile approves the suggestive image of her  pressing now his waist, sensing they were so close yet so far of each other. He devoured her mouth avidly at the same time his sense of newfound dominance urged him to place himself above her.
Harleen slid her hands up his battered back, breaking the kiss to hold and scratch his scalp to mumble:
“I want you deep inside me”.
Arthur hid his face on her neck, wallowing in the gentleness of her touches. She clings to his arms, abandoning all defenses, letting him know she was totally his to possess.
His biceps accentuate by supporting himself. Long, brow curls fell over the curve of his neck, eyes on her when his hips moved even closer to her. Harleen diverted her attention to it, but she immediately crumpled her lungs for air as Arthur teased the burning folds with the tip, becoming familiar with the part he was going to invade soon.
“More… more, oh, please” her lewd smile, cute little hums and whines mixed with his own shortened breath and surprised but satisfied groans made them forget about the world for a short while. Arthur constantly rubbed his manhood against her moistened entrance, exulting at the furious grunts the sweet torture elicited.
In exchange, she pressed her legs as a slight punishment for such daring move. But she was loving every second of it. Her eyes appreciated the paused caress between their bodies.
Seconds passed when his prolonged absence began to cause her actual pain, wrapping her legs around his hips. He let his hands fell beside her head, to plant a last kiss before proceeding.
"Knock knock" he muttered against her lips.
"Who's there?" She replied with anxious anticipation.
"It’s the mailman, miss. I’ve got an special delivery. It can hardly wait for you to see it"
She widened her eyes in surprise before his boldness to even joke in a moment too intimate as this but ended up exploding in loud cackles that left her breathless. Her reaction caused an expression of fascinated disbelief to take over his face. Both laughed it off shortly to resume were they left off.
His stare, predacious and craving, petrified Harleen.
Once his bare sex perfectly fit her hot, silky intimacy, Harleen  threw her head on the pink velvety pillow, dramatically panting as her body focuses on adhering to this desired invader. His name leaves her mouth as a desperate prayer, as if he was her only saviour, much to his delight.   
"You like that, don't you?" he hissed while giving her body another brutal thrust so she could feel him inside her as intensely as possible.
“Yes!” Harleen replied, not giving a fuck if it sounded indecent, “Arthur, I want all of it, please! Please!”
“All of it?” he smirked, reinforcing his invasion, obtaining louder screams from Harleen, doing her best to deal with the urging length in, searing walls flexing around him.
“Allofit…” but it was unintelligible for him. Arthur was too busy indulging in a deeper intrusion, eyes closed for a better focus. His thrusts were taken over by an animalistic despair, not hesitating to harden the pace even more as the eventual natural need for release set aside any sense of self control.
Nothing could take the wide smile off her.
“You are so good at this, mister Fleck…” the playful praise sounded more like a helpless little whimper, arousing Arthur in ways he would have never imagined. It lead him to lean into her, but she quickly took advantage of it by captivating his form, legs pressing his hips to deepen the intrusion even more.
Arthur threw his head back, stopping for a moment to process the pleasure the abrupt move had caused on him. Harleen contemplated in silent joy how his arms had taken a more muscular shape, gifting him an evil, yet charming smile when she held his face with both hands to pepper it with kisses, holding to his back as if her life depends on it, body ready and eager to obtain more of him.
He slowly made his way out of her just to violently slam back in, causing soft sobs that ended in more desperate praises, which played an important part during the act.
“Keep fucking me like that… I beg you” he closed his eyes, ecstatic, lips parted.
“I will” he gasped.
As soon as she moans his name, Arthur sensed his last sense of self control disappear. He could feel her nails in the skin of his back, which doubled the joy of another brutal thrust into her, exhausted groans leaving his throat. Harleen squirmed while dealing with the intense pleasure his unmerciful pace caused on her.
“Arthurarthurarthurarthurarthur” the blonde called him before losing her own sense of reality, the last coherent word before a lovely, mellifluous mixture of moans, groans, grunts and sobs seized her lips.
Him.
It was all about him, she realized. She swore everything had lost into oblivion. There was nothing except the throbbing welcome her tight walls granted to his twitching gristle.
In that moment she finally comprehended his impact on her life, remembering all the good moments they had shared, everything that led them to this moment, so close to end the act with thunderous moans.
She wasn’t afraid to accept this man had become her entire life since she had lied eyes on him, the first and last person she thought about every time she woke up and certainly the reason why sudden smiles traced her lips during work.  
However, her body warned them about the proximity of the peak when the pulsing grip around him intensified, interrupting the happy daydreaming about him, returning her to the raw reality she was protagonist of.   
The gorgeous moaning mess he had done from her had encouraged the loner to fasten the rhythm, loving to bring her to the brink, frantic spasms whipping his nerves while her moans echoed louder and louder. Her features showed an agonizing expression, lips partly open but unable to utter anything, mind fogged by lightheadedness.
“Arthur, I can’t— I—” the violent, feverish orgasm caught her unprepared: a blaring, euphoric cry served as the glorious conclusion of their union.
Arthur found the strength to distance himself from her, far too weak to resist the temptation to earn a good vision of her naked body in that moment. Harleen was still numb, hair covering her face like a curtain, blue strands all over her chest, contrasting with her pale skin. He followed the long mane down, eyeing her quivering figure, so full of him. He stopped to stare at their sexes still caught in a sore and reddened embrace.
The loner eventually surrendered with a powerful groan, exploding inside of her. He exhaled in stunned relief and sexual bliss. His eyes behold such beauty so full of him, retaining him even when her moans indicate that it was too much for her to bear. This let an even wilder side of him to appear when pushing slightly deeper, thinking it would go unnoticed, but she was too immersed in her thoughts about the man who lied over her. The stillness helped her to put her mind in order, dimensioning this feelings blooming in her heart.
It was hard to stare at each other at this point, but she slowly turned her head to see him despite the blue mane hinders a proper sight of him. Sunlight shone brightly on his face, curls tousled, from what she could see. It was like a little light of happiness shining at last. For the others, he was a deranged creep, but in that moment, Harleen felt he was the most beautiful man she had ever met in her life.
The blurred image eventually became sharper when his face came closer to hers, oozing his seed inside Harleen through his spurred flesh. It felt like hours passed by.
Small beads of sweat formed on his forehead, his open mouthed  expression was of pure astonishment and fascination. The slender fingers set aside her hair, touching her lips, probably to kiss her again.
But nothing happened. Instead, Arthur decided to break the contact, paying attention to the zone in question.
With slow vehemence, he was finally gone.
The action left a thin, niveous line dripping from the tip, leaking from her in small creeks in a beautiful way their bodies demanded to reconnect each other.
“Fuck” he muttered, grinning. Despite the exhaustion, Harleen mimicked it. They couldn’t say anything else, for words were unnecessary. He wouldn’t know it, but Harleen had already accepted a great truth about him.
She was madly in love with Arthur Fleck. _______________________________________
Weeks passed. It was raining in a cold Thursday on Gotham City when Harleen returned home from work. The garbage strike was worsening, rioters looting any store they could and the mayoral candidate being the focus of criticism and repudiation of people. The reason behind it? She would find it out soon.
A taxi honking distracted from her quest for an answer but that didn’t stop her for too long. She heard people talking about nowadays and what Thomas Wayne had said about people in Gotham after something horrible had happened in the filthy subway. The macabre part awakened her curiosity. Was there something she didn’t know about? She looked for a kiosk at the end of the every block to see if there were papers about the aforementioned topic.
It was near a telephone cabin when Harleen finally found what she was looking for… but she didn’t know where to start. Just a headline in bold was enough to freeze her:
KILLER CLOWN ON THE LOOSE
LATEST NEWS ON THE MURDERS
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