theknightofivanhoe

[theknightofivanhoe]

Hello Robxstar. You remember the last scenario I dropped for you where Robin throws a birdarang at a supervillain and accidentally cuts off Starfire’s bikini panties?

So imagine he and Star decide to head back to the tower and have excused themselves to Cyborg, Raven and Beast Boy who are off for some pizza. Star, holding her damaged panties up, lets Robin take her back on his R-Cycle. Once they’ve shut themselves alone inside the tower, Robin breathes out in relief that they’ve got themselves away from prying eyes. Right when he turns to Star, suggesting they get her a fresh pair of panties, her cut-up panties go landing on his head. Next thing Robin sees Star smirking at him and doing a casual, suggestive pose with only her tank top and boots still on, but her modesty exposed to him. She teases him over how eager he was to get her naked so soon.

How do you picture Robin reacting?

Probably flames red from neck to ear and goes braindead for a little bit, if it's earlier on in their relationship. (I don't remember if they had been established for a while or not in your last scenario.) If they've passed that awkward stage she might still make him a little flustered but I think he'd get over that quickly and focus on the business at hand, namely, getting her fresh underwear.

He might make a cheeky comment back while he passes them to her though.

[theknightofivanhoe]

You’re welcome, @brucediana

Might draw a few more parts of your one-shot, see how it looks as visual erotica…

“Oh fuck - BRUCE!”

“That’s right princess…Fuck Bruce…”

Hello @brucediana Drew this Wonderbat piece once for one Valentine’s Day and thought you might like it being a Wonderbat lover. It could make for a nice companion image for that naughty little one-shot you did of Bruce getting dirty with Diana. So what do you think? Hope you had an enjoyable Valentine’s Day.

I have not been around here lately. That is awesome and great fan art! 🔥

[theknightofivanhoe]

In tribute to the Tangled-Xiaolin Showdown roleplay by @runningracingdancingchasing and @xiaolindude, here are some sketches of Rapunzel's life among the Xiaolin Warriors and her relationship with the 'Dragon of the Wind' Raimundo Pedrosa.

I started by showing the playful, sassy dynamics Rapunzel and Raimundo would exhibit between each other, then when they practise martial arts, Rapunzel playing a prank on Raimundo with Pascal ambushing him with a tongue in the ear. Rai gets grossed out while Rapunzel giggles uncontrollably.

Bex, or @runningracingdancingchasing, has shown Rapunzel to be a good friend, or even surrogate sister with Xiaolin 'Dragon of Fire' Kimiko Tohomiko. Having such a close relationship, Rapunzel and Kimiko have challenged each other to a race. Notice Master Fung and Dojo watching the two playing their little game.

Next Raimundo is making use of his elemental power to lift Rapunzel into the air so she can kick some butt from above. Notice Pascal hanging onto Rapunzel's lengthened hair for dear life!

As well as deep lovers, Raimundo and Rapunzel can be fierce fighters, Raimundo bowling over some ninjas and Rapunzel slashing them with her golden hair as though it were a whip.

Art is still a hobby of Rapunzel's, and who better to sketch the beauty of the human body than her Brazilian beau? Of course, Rapunzel, in just her vest and short shorts, doesn't mind in the slightest that Raimundo volunteers to let her paint him with his shirt off. Pascal is serving as her second opinion while she paints, but it seems Pascal will praise her artwork no matter how it looks.

Lastly Rapunzel and Raimundo, who's got on a Brazilian flag shirt, share a passionate kiss near a soothing seasape. For Rapunzel, Raimundo is everything she could want out of partner, life among the Xiaolin monks giving her a life beyond her wildest dreams. His wind powers and her sun-infused hair intertwine just like their relationship and many romantic adventures are in store for Raimundo and Rapunzel.

Hope this is to both your liking, @runningracingdancingchasing and @xiaolindude and it was a lot of fun coming up with these scenarios to bring your roleplay to life.

[theknightofivanhoe]

Hello, Neopuff, it’s a pleasure to get to check out your art and music videos. Noticed your Harveybabs montages after Batman Caped Crusader and absolutely admire how you showcased Harvey and Barbara’s dynamics and brought out the (possibly) romantic tensions. 

So if Caped Crusader Barbara and Harvey even became a romantic couple at long last, what do you suppose their relationship dynamics might, say, entail? Like if they wound up having a slow dance for instance?

aw thank you!! i really loved their dynamic in those last two episodes it was just SO good

i definitely have a lot of thoughts in my head for a Harvey Survives AU where he attempts to live as classic villainous Two-Face but he struggles with his feelings for Barbara and they have a lot of very intense dramatic moments together where shes like "you dont have to do this, come with me, we can fix this" and he can't even look her in the eyes because he's ashamed of himself and he wanted to be a better person but he failed

its be very romantic and Bruce would be uncomfortable with it but also part of him would recognize that Harvey's feelings for Barbara is one of the last remaining shreds of his humanity and itd be suuuuuch good drama

[theknightofivanhoe]

Justice League: Question's Hard Drive Ch 9: The Francesco Mob

In which Huntress tries to catch Paris Franz with the intention of getting him to tell her where Stephen Mandragora is hiding. But what happens when Helena Bertinelli isn't the only vigilante on the gangster's tail?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/40186038/chapters/161519995

Table of Contents

Chapter 8

Chapter 10: TBC

[theknightofivanhoe]

Wishing all Huntress and Question shippers a happy Valentine's day with this fanart of Helena and Vic on a romantic date.

This is based on my fic 'Question's Hard Drive' that takes place during the Justice League Unlimited episode 'Question Authority.' After accomplishing their mission, Helena persuades Question to take her on a date or, as she says here, 'work hard and play hard.' During an awkward dinner at a restaurant, Question asks Helena where she's put the data drive he was using on their mission, but Helena only smirks mischievously and teases him about it.

The date is then disrupted when Question asks Helena about a nightmare she once had, unintentionally causing her to have a tearful breakdown. The eccentric detective starts to comfort and reassure Helena that he will protect her no matter the cost, earning a big wet kiss from her.

As for the cause of Helena's trauma, it may have something to do with when, as Huntress, she was searching for a crime boss in Gotham City, before she joined the Justice League. Could it be something to do with one night when, going undercover at a nightclub, she first met a sociopathic gangster called Paris Franz?

Just so you know, Paris Franz is this guy.

One more thing, wishing DC Animated universe co-creator Bruce Timm happy belated birthday and the best of luck for Batman Caped Crusader series 2.

[theknightofivanhoe]

Satine Kryze week: Eros for @satinekryzeweek

Obi-Wan and Duchess Satine have a romantic moment on a balcony overlooking a lake. Obi-Wan seems to approve of Satine being clad in a swimsuit and sarong. Next Satine elegantly slips off her sarong, Obi-Wan taking off his vest and sneaking a look at her legs.

The two have a nice long swim in the lake, possibly admiring one another's state of half-dress, before they climb out of the water to bask in one long, happy soggy kiss. It could be that the pleasure is getting the best of both Jedi and duchess.

[theknightofivanhoe]

Duchess Satine has joined Senator Padme Amidala for a nice, fun swim at a spa, a nice healthy little respite from the hardships that come with their respective duties. Both ladies have their own favourite brands of swimsuits that fit their personal tastes, Padme going practical and foxy, Satine going for something fashionable and subdued.

A while later, the two brave heroines end up on a Separatist ship and have to fight their way through battle droid guards with blaster and deactivator in hand. Can Padme and Satine get off the ship or have the Separatists truly got them in their clutches? Don't ask how they ended up still in their swimsuits. Circumstances possibly didn't give them time to get changed into other clothes.

Day 4 Philia Fanart for @satinekryzeweek

[theknightofivanhoe]

Hello dchuntress. Just wanted to send a thank you for reblogging my Huntress and Question fanart I did last year’s Valentines. Which of the sketches did you like particularly? Hoping to get round to uploading more next month. Cheers.

hi there!! and of course, i think your fanart of these two were super awesome and i am so excited to see more this year!! i think it's especially neat considering helena's birthday is also on the fourteenth of february :)

i loved them all, but i have hearted the ones that were especially my faves heh <3 they truly are so goals

[theknightofivanhoe]

Good morning, toomanyf4ndoms, just wanted to write to thank you very much for reblogging my newest ‘Question’s Hard Drive’ chapter. Sorry that I couldn’t get the text into one whole blog. Linking to the Archiveofourown version instead was the only feasible option. Just curious, what are your thoughts on the story so far and what may you be looking forward to in later chapters?

TTFN.

It's enjoyable, Question and Huntress's dynamic is well written as ever.

Looking forward to the complications that may arise.

[theknightofivanhoe]

Justice League: Question's Hard Drive Ch 8: Burnett Theatres

Table of Contents

Chapter 7

Chapter 9

[theknightofivanhoe]

One day the Bad Batch are drifting about in a boat…

Hunter: Now, any suggestions as to how we find the north?

Wrecker: Moss grows on the north side of trees…if that helps.

Hunter: (glaring at him) It doesn’t, Wrecker.

[theknightofivanhoe]

Dear Supporter,

I hope this message finds you and your family in good health. My name is Eman Zaqout from Gaza. I am reaching you out to seek your urgent help in spreading the word about our fundraiser. I lost both my home and my job due to the ongoing genocide in Gaza and we are facing catastrophic living conditions. 💔

I kindly ask you to visit my campaign. Your support, whether through donating or sharing, will help us reach more people who can make a difference. Thank you for your continued support for the Palestinian cause. Your dedication brings us closer to freedom. 🙏🕊

Note: Verified by several people as 90-ghost and aces-and-angels. ☑

https://gofund.me/b141d50f 🔗

Hello Eman, just want to tell you how sorry I am to hear all this happening to you and to Gaza and I can only hope by sharing this on my account I amplify your calls for aid. I wish for nothing but the best for you and you have my utmost solidarity.

[theknightofivanhoe]

‘Going Somewhere?’ A Wolfwren Story

“Sabine? Where in the stars are you?” the fair-skinned young woman with her bone-pale hair short and sweeping to her right was calling over the chatter of human and alien guests at the garishly-lit bar. Shin Hati’s smoothly accented voice was barely audible over the thrumming, bopping electronic music that sounded slightly distorted with the rowdy laughter and chatter. Master Ahsoka Tano was waiting for Sabine Wren to attend more training in the ways of the Force, and Shin was shuffling her way past Twi-leks, Rodians and Dugs, along with the occasional Klatooinian, in search of that rebellious young Mandalorian. “Where is that - Sabine!” Shin yelled, her brown Jedi robes flapping about while she briskly darted around the rather packed bar. She gave a cursory glance over the sea of heads in the hope of singling out one that looked remotely like the wayward girl who was skipping training. The way that music thumped on, along with the multicoloured flashes around the place threatened to play havoc with Shin’s keen senses, Force-enhanced or not.

“Going somewhere?” The voice of someone clearly trying to imitate Shin’s accent came up behind the blond and she turned around to find Sabine herself standing in front of her, patrons drifting past or grooving to the music. Shin couldn’t help but notice the purple-haired Mandalorian was languidly smirking at her and standing in a relaxed, listless pose. Staring back, the blond frowned a little. It was the faintly dreamy, vacant eyes and the mussed collar of the bodysuit Sabine wore under her colourful armour that served as telltale sign that she was womp-rat-arsed.*

“Is that meant to be me you’re imitating?” Shin questioned with a raise of her eyebrow as Sabine’s head bobbed lightly to one side. Then she started up again. “You haaave no pow-errr!” she continued to say in that rather poor imitation of Shin’s accent. Shin rolled her eyes amid the chaos of the club around her. “I sound nothing like that, Sabine!” she said in exasperation, but Sabine was already dissolving into a fit of giggles, doubling over as her drunken laugh spilled out like water leaking from a pipe. “Oh, come on, that *is* how you sound, Shin!” she insisted, Shin just watching her convulse where she stood. “Ugh! What have you been drinking?” the short-haired blond demanded. Sabine gasped up some much-required air and smiled back at Shin. “Oh, didn’t have too much…” she replied as innocently as her currently inebriated state would let her. “A likely story…” Shin bluntly pointed out. Sabine had very obviously surrendered herself to the alcohol. “To be honest…” she hazily continued, unsteadily edging closer to Shin. The closeness made Shin flinch only a fraction. There was no denying something about Sabine was making her cheeks go warm. And why was she needing to fight down a smirk at the Mandalorian’s rather un-Mando-like behaviour? “I was actually hoping you’d turn up…” Sabine confessed, her smile now morphing into one brimming with a cocktail of sweetness and mischief. “Now, Sabine…” Shin tried to warn her, only for the edges of her mouth to twitch upward. Starting to lose her balance, Sabine let herself slump forward. “Sabi - ” Shin wrapped her arms around her body, only to feel Sabine leaning up against her torso! Next she felt Sabine loop her arms around her sides, which sent the blond’s nerves spiking until her ears started to boil. “Sabine, pull yourself togeth - Mmmh!” Sabine just rammed her lips against Shin’s, causing Shin to grunt in shock at how her mouth was caught in the Mando’s almost magnetically! Unable to so much as think through the pleasure, Shin stood where she was, her tastebuds catching the sharp tang of drink from Sabine’s mouth.

”Mwah!” Sabine didn’t release Shin from her pretty clumsy embrace, but pulled back from the kiss to give her a booze-riddled grin. “Sabine, not here…” Shin bashfully tried to chide her, but the pinkness glowing through her pale cheeks only betrayed her attempt at composure. The Force was elegantly coursing through both women, through every joint of their bodies right here in the middle of this splashy colourful bar. “Oh, come on, Shin…” Sabine seductively replied, propping herself up against Shin again then nestling her head under the crook of the blond’s neck. “You’ll be giving us a bad name…” Shin protested, but there was no denying how much she was enjoying this. “You know what? To blazes with bad names.” Sabine answered, unwilling to lift her head, the sound of Shin’s rapidly beating heart filling her ears. “But I really think you should get yourself sobered up and let me take you back to Ahsoka.” Shin told her even as her arms stayed around Sabine’s midsection to keep her from collapsing. “She’s waiting to continue our traini- ”

The sudden rhythm of a particularly energetic, bubbly song being played on the club’s speakers reached Sabine’s ears, which caused her to pull away from Shin. “Wait, what - ” Shin uttered, only to find Sabine was jogging up some steps to join other partygoers of different species, Twi’leks included, on the dance floor. Before Shin could call after the Mando, Sabine started boogying with the others and sang along with the tune.

You should take it as a compliment that I got drunk and made fun of the way you talk…

A speechless Shin just watched Sabine dance and flap her hand open and closed at ‘talk.’

You should think about the consequence of your magnetic field being a little too strong…

Sabine looked at Shin directly as she sang this and pointed a finger at her, the blond dropping her jaw in bewilderment.

And I got a boyfriend, he’s older than us,

He’s in the club doin’ I-dunno-what.

You’re so cool, it makes me hate you so much.

(I hate you so much…)

It was like seeing Sabine dance and sing on the raised platform with all those other partygoers, wearing a rich variety of clubbing outfits, left Shin entranced. As she sang in time to the lyrics, Sabine would use hand gestures and these dorky facial expressions that only served to awaken in Shin what could be adoration for her. Then Sabine started gyrating her hips quite suggestively.

Whiskey on ice, sunset and vine,

You’ve ruined my life, by not being miiiiine!

*Ding*

You’re so GORGEOUS!

I can’t say anything to your face…

‘Cause look at your face!

As she danced, Sabine would wiggle her bottom in Shin’s general direction, which left her cheeks turning as hot as the surface of Mustafar.

And I’m so FURIOUS!

At you for making me feel this way.

But what can I say? You’re gorgeous!

Sabine topped the chorus with a grin and a quick, teasing wink at Shin. By now Shin’s heart rate was thrumming in her ears. Why did Sabine have to do this to her?

You should take it as a compliment that I’m talking to everyone but you.

(But you…But you…)

As the song started to get all dreamy, Sabine sinuously raised her arms, twirled her hands and wiggled her hips. It was growing hard for Shin to not get absorbed into the pretty Mando girl’s ability to actually dance in flow with the song.

And you should think about the consequence of you touching my hand in a darkened room.

(Dark room…dark room…)

Still singing and spinning herself round, Sabine glanced back at Shin, then raised a hand and flicked her fingers towards herself. Shin’s still thumping heart leapt into her throat when it grew explicitly clear; Sabine was beckoning her to join her! How she just wanted to vanish into the crowd watching the dance and get out of this place right now.

If you’ve got a boyfriend I’m jealous of her,

But if your single it’s actually worse,

‘Cause you’re so gorgeous, it actually hurts.

(Honey it hurts.)

It was clear Sabine wouldn’t take no for an answer, and she advanced on Shin who was at a loss on what to do. Before the blond knew it, Sabine’s hand was curled around hers and she was being pulled up onto the dance floor where revellers were shimmying and swinging to the song. By now Shin was shaking like a leaf as she found herself beside Sabine, in view of the audience that had formed around the club. It took Sabine’s gentle touch and her adoring, undoubtedly still drunken smile, to keep Shin from wanting to curl up into a ball and die. With their hands interlocked, the Mando still swayed herself about and went on singing.

Ocean blue eyes, looking in mine,

I think that I might sink and drown and diiiiie!

*Ding!*

Then Sabine launched herself back into a full-on dance, Shin’s eyes simply welded to her moves, never mind all this going on in public in the city.

You’re so GORGEOUS!

I can’t say anything to your face!

(To your face!)

‘Cause look at your face!

(Look at your face!)

With no other way out, Shin started to move her body about, quite awkwardly compared to how Sabine simply let her hair down as she danced on, adding some more wiggles of her bum as a little flourish. All this was getting Shin red-hot all over, the other woman’s carefree cheekiness serving to draw her in, no matter how embarrassing her current position.

And I’m so FURIOUS!

At you for making me feel this way…

But what can I say?

You’re GORGEOUS!

As the tune played on, Sabine turned to Shin with her hips going side to side, Shin trying to keep up with her. “Sabine, I really don’t think we should do this…” Shin reminded her, only for Sabine to flash her a grin that displayed her pearly white teeth. “Come on, you know you love this…” she teased the blond who did her best to move about along with the other humans and aliens around them. “Yeah, but…” Shin stumbled with her words as she shook herself about. “We really should be training the ways of the Force with Ahso - ” “Doesn’t this count as training though?” Sabine lightheartedly asked, turning to the people watching her and saluted them with her two fingers. “Since when did getting tipsy and dancing at a club count as training?” Shin asked, still trying to dance along. “We’re moving about, aren’t we?” Sabine pointed out, before blowing Shin a kiss and continuing to bop along to the tune. “Look, Sabine, Ahsoka’s not going to be happy abou - ” “Oh, Shin, shut up and party!” Sabine interrupted and threw her arms up, still grinning and shaking her armoured breasts at her quite provocatively.

Make me so happy it turns back to sad,

There’s nothing I hate more than what I can‘t have.

You are so gorgeous, it makes me so mad…

Now Shin couldn’t hold in her giggles, nor resist joining in the groove of the dance. As she sang along and stepped left to right, spinning one hand in the air, Sabine pointed at Shin again at ‘gorgeous it makes me so mad.’ It sent Shin blushing crimson, but how could she not love all this? Dancing with Sabine and absolutely basking in the affection that kept their connection so strong? The Force was flowing effortlessly through the two women like water through a river.

Make me so happy it turns back to sad,

There’s nothing I hate more than what I can’t have,

Guess I’ll just stumble on home to my cats…

At ‘cats,’ Sabine made a cat paws gesture with both hands. Shin just popped her hands on her head to imitate a cat’s ears. Her grin spreading from ear-to-ear, Sabine ‘clawed’ at Shin that made the other woman smirk with glee, her crystal-blue eyes gleaming at the Mando through the colours flashing around the club.

Alone…unless you wanna come along.

*Ding!*

Sabine broke into a haughty strut and Shin sauntered beside her, both of them gazing into each other’s eyes even as the purple-haired woman raised the note at which she sang.

You’re so GORGEOOOOUS!

I can’t say anything to your face,

- To your face -

‘Cause look at your face!

- Look at your face! -

With a joyful grin, Sabine swayed her hips in a rather sultry way to tease Shin even more.

And I’m so FURIOUS!

At you for making me feel this way!

(Feel this way!)

But what can I say?

You’re GORGEOUS!

At this chorus, Sabine and Shin hopped side-to-side together as the other dancers whirled around them like schools of fish.

Make me so happy it turns back to sad,

There’s nothing I hate more than what I can‘t have.

You are so gorgeous, it makes me so mad!

You’re GORGEOUS!

The two strode along the platform past everyone else on the raised platform, the crowd cheering them on excitedly. Both Mando and Force-wielder performed their moves in perfect harmony as their strutting served to dominate the spectacle.

Make me so happy it turns back to sad,

There’s nothing I hate more than what I can’t have.

- What I can’t have! -

You are so gorgeous, it makes me so mad!

Mmm!

You’re GORGEOUS!

The song ended, the audience that had gathered in the bar bursting into raucous applause, yelling, screaming and clapping for every being who had just put on that tremendous performance. Shin and Sabine glanced at the excitable crowd, then turned back to one another. Though the whole thing made them a bit shy, their smiles small and nervous, there was no fighting the wonder and delight they felt in one another’s company.

It was Sabine who made her next move, snatching Shin by the back of her head with both hands and ramming her lips against hers! Shin let out a muffled grunt, her eyes going wide at how they were doing this in public. But then, blast the public. Blast the rest of the galaxy. Feeling the Force coursing wonderfully through both herself and Sabine, Shin kept her mouth wrapped up against those of the gorgeous Mandalorian woman holding onto her. All Sabine did was smother her mouth against Shin’s, shutting out every other presence and sound even as the applause went on. That raw, beautiful power surrounding and penetrating Shin and Sabine was binding them together, just as it bound every living being in this galaxy.

For @wolfwrenweek

[theknightofivanhoe]

Justice League: Question's Hard Drive Ch 7: Bad Moon Rising

Table of Contents

A little treat included in this chapter for anyone who likes their old-school rock music. And a little dive into Helena's past pre-Justice League...

Since their little heart-to-heart over when she could eventually disclose what her nightmares had been about, Question still found Helena spending the journey sitting quietly as he drove on down the freeway. Even after the reassurance he had given her, she still had that very strangely withdrawn expression, staring out at the vehicle lights passing through the darkness. He couldn’t believe he was thinking this, but Question felt unsettled by this change, even the lack of snarky, flirtatious comments Helena would always make. It could only imply just how badly her past had affected her, enough to reveal the cracks in her tough, battle-hardened Huntress persona; cracks that might, or possibly might not relate how her parents’ deaths had affected her. Question promptly reminded himself, concentrating on getting to the cinema, that he would eventually find out if this trauma was even related to her previous grudge on Steven Mandragora, or if it was something else entirely.  

Soon a new decision popped into his head, though he was still afraid of how Helena might react. Glancing quickly at her as she peered out the window, he reached down for the radio. ‘Here goes.’ he thought, and with a click, the radio buzzed with static. Helena turned to Question, not staying anything as a newsman’s voice made it through all the noise. “ - another big day for Lex Luthor’s run for the presidency as he nets a huge donation from billionaire Cameron Kaiser! Mr Luthor brought Mr Kaiser onstage at his Gotham rally hailing the tycoon’s support as significant to his campaign!” Question just groaned at what he heard. Helena just raised an eyebrow at him. Definitely not what he had been hoping for. “ - Of course the endorsement has drawn mixed responses over Kaiser’s past when he briefly served a prison sentence for insurance fraud and an incident with Gotham’s most dangerous criminal genius, the Joker. But Luthor was adamant that Kaiser had only left prison a better man on the path to redemption, which he has made into a strong message for his campaign itself. And we’ll have further developments about the presidential race following a little oldie but goldie and tonight, it looks like there’s a bad moon on the rise…” 

The next thing Question and Helena heard was the funky intro to a certain 1960s rockabilly tune. As the rhythm broke out, Question grew too embarrassed to even know what to do or say. Helena’s facial expression stayed unreadable. Then the singing started. 

‘I see the bad moon a-risin’! I see trouble on the way! 

I see earthquakes and lightnin’! I see bad times today!’ 

As the echoey lyrics and retro groove blared on, Question waited for Helena to protest, ready to kill the music if she did so.  

‘Don’t go around tonight! It’s bound to take your life! 

There’s a bad moon on the rise!’ 

Question’s hand was at the button for off, before he caught sight of the corners of Helena’s mouth twitching. Her eyes glinted in what seemed like amusement. 

‘I hear hurricanes a-blowin’! I know the end is comin’ soon! 

I fear rivers overflowin’! I hear the voice of rage and ruin!’ 

“Ah, sorry - ” Question went nervously over the music, but Helena’s hand slipped over his hand very gently. “Don’t be…” she replied, her stare laced with that romantic thrill he remembered from when they had been having dinner. “You mean you - you want it?” Question couldn’t tell if he was hearing her correctly. “Baby doll, I think we just found our song…” Helena was giving him that sweet smile, her eyes soft with endearment. 

‘Don’t go around tonight! It’s bound to take your life! 

There’s a bad moon on the rise, alright!’ 

For Question, this change in Helena’s mood was pretty welcome, the song clearly livening the journey up. “Then our song it’ll be.” he agreed, and pumped his foot on the gas pedal as the track broke into its catchy guitar solo. The increase in the car’s speed, accompanied by the tune, made Helena smile even wider as she watched Question drive. His sporty-looking automobile gliding through the traffic at night with that 60s beat thrumming away made for quite a spectacle. ‘Always the eccentric charm…’ Helena contentedly thought to herself. 

‘Hope you’ve got your things together! Hope you are quite prepared to die! 

Looks like we’re in for nasty weather! One eye is taken for an eye!’ 

“You know, Q, this little number’s got you written all over it.” Helena commented, lightly boogying to the song. “Really?” Question dryly asked with a small tilt of the head. “Oh come on.” Helena snorted. “All that Armageddon, end-of-the-world talk, it’s like this band wrote it with you in mind.” “I guess I should look into them about that…” Question suggested, mainly to humour her. “Now don’t be petty, Q.” Helena teased and leaned in, kissing his cheek, which he didn’t mind at all. “I might start blaring a vinyl of this through our flat if things get too boring.” “Wonderful…” grumbled the long-suffering Question. 

‘Well, don’t go around tonight! It’s bound to take your life! 

There’s a bad moon on the rise!’ 

Don’t go around tonight! It’s bound to take your life! 

There’s a bad moon on the rise!’

On the last guitar chord, Helena sat back and relaxed as the newsman’s voice returned. “And that was ‘Bad Moon Rising,’ that funky folk rock number by the rootin’ tootin’ Creedence Clearwater Revival who remain a favourite, particularly of those of you who know your 60s and 70s. Please, stay tuned as we bring further reports on - ” 

Although she was looking forward to the movie and was very much cheered by the song, Helena still found it hard to stay this way. Those memories from back at the restaurant were just waiting for the next ripe opportunity to stab at her heart once again. She turned from the view of the city buildings to her date himself who was getting her to the cinema. For over a minute, she fought to make a decision on what to say. The radio commentary went by in multiple garbled voices, before Question heard Helena’s soft voice. “Q, I’m going to tell you everything.” Hands still on the wheel and foot on the gas, Question didn’t look back at her. Was that in his head? “You’re - now?” he asked disbelievingly. He hadn’t wanted to force Helena into doing so. “I don’t want us to go on with our date unless I’ve got it all off my chest.” Helena insisted, turning to him to emphasise her point. “Well, I know-” Question could tell where she was coming from, but he still felt a little ashamed that he might have imposed all this upon her. “I don’t want to have made you - well - intimidated you into - ” “Q, I know what you mean.” Helena stated with a look of understanding on her attractive face, which had no mask, either the one she wore as Huntress or her emotional one, to hide her thoughts from her admirer. “I am ready for us to share this secret.” Question’s head inched her way, but turned back to the view of the highway. “You don’t want to wait till after the movie?” he suggested. “No, I won’t be able to enjoy the rest of our date until all of this is out of the way.” Helena reminded him, clearly unwilling to back out. “If anything happens to either of us, I just want you to know in case…” Her heart nearly sank at the very idea of losing Question. Even if she were unarmed, she would pull her enemies’ arms from their sockets if it meant protecting him. But what if Question made it out, but lost her? “Just…let me do this for you. I owe it to you for helping me with Mandragora.” “Okay, Helena.” Question’s deep, mysterious voice gusted through the dark-haired woman’s ears and she stared at him, even as he stared out at the road ahead. “I’m listening.” That was all Helena needed, before she thought back to that particular stage in her life. “All right.” she answered, the emotion her lightly husky voice weighed down by all the burden of her past. Casting her eyes on the vehicles shooting on through the night, Helena prepared herself. “It started a few years ago. I wasn’t long into my gig as Huntress, but wasn’t yet recruited into the Justice League. I was hot on Mandragora’s trail, following a few tips and breadcrumbs here and there, until I made it to Gotham City…” 

---

In a recently-purchased apartment, a relatively decent, clean place with greyish-white walls and a row of tall windows overlooking office blocks and some of Gotham’s grander buildings, Helena Bertinelli was laying low to plan her crusade against the vile Steven Mandragora. One cool, clear afternoon, she had set up a pair of large black cylindrical tackling dummies on a gym mat in her living area. Wearing just a pair of white short shorts and a camisole, she spent several minutes throwing punches and karate chops at these dummies on either side of her. Grunting and yelling through her combat practice, she twirled in a number of roundhouse kicks with all the swiftness her athletics had earned her, her bare feet pounding into the rubber the way a nightstick would bludgeon a person. Her goal, to kill Mandragora where he stood for her parents’ deaths, sent electricity angrily buzzing through her body that she was personally forging into a dangerous weapon. After some more thrusting of fists and legs, Helena rolled herself down into a handstand and kicked one foot forward, the other behind so she caught both dummies. “Hyah!” With her biceps holding her up as firmly as a pair of steel girders, Helena instantly glanced at the framed photo sitting on the surface of the dining table. Halfway through landing her feet back on the mat to position herself in a cat-like crouch, she couldn’t help but take in the image of herself, when she was a young, pretty girl in an elegant purple dress happily sitting in her beautiful mother’s lap, the older lady classily dressed in a white gown capped with a gold necklace and her raven hair flowing in rich tresses. Laying a strong hand on the young Helena’s small shoulder was her father in one of his favourite black tuxes, the scar over his right eye and down the side of his square-jawed face serving as a story to tell of the close encounters he had gone through with all sorts of opponents. All of this, Helena’s world, all of it had been crushed under Steven Mandragora’s fists! Swallowing, she drew in a harsh breath and prepared herself to spring for one of the dummies. ‘God bless you, mother, and father.’ she prayed in her head. ‘Trust me, your little Helena’s gonna make you proud…’ 

The high-pitched bleeping of her cell phone punctured her train of thoughts, causing her to instantly drop her stance. An exasperated Helena sat herself down on the mat and crossed her legs in a lotus position. Her vibrating phone was sitting on the floor beside where she had been practising, making it easy for her to reach it. Helena picked it up and put it to her ear. “Hello?” She listened to the voice on the other end, staying in her yoga pose. “Yes, sir, uh, principle.” she responded. “Sure. Everything’s set. I called Miss Gordon. Yeah, I’ll be there to take the kids. Yeah…they’ll enjoy it there, I’m sure. Not at all, sir. Thank you, sir. See you then.” Ending the call, she placed the phone down before rising to her feet . 

Sparing another wistful glance at her childhood self in the photo, Helena contemplated the two lives she was leading since her parents’ deaths. By day she had high school students to teach English. By night, this teacher had justice to serve and scores to settle. Like that ‘Dark Knight’ guy everyone here in Gotham was talking about. Yes, Helena knew well that people were comparing her to…whoever that masked man was. After making a mug of coffee, she sat on her couch and looked out at the calm, sleepy streets below. She had no interest in partnering with Gotham’s own local hero. He held back too much. Helena sipped her drink, thinking back to the news she had seen of him and those kids, his so-called ‘family’ beating up madmen and robbers who they would hand over to the cops to lock away. She found it distasteful, the way they called themselves ‘caped crusaders’ and yet handled even the most psychotic criminals with such kid gloves. For their own sake, they would do well to stay out of her way when she located Mandragora. 

Hours later, when the sky over Gotham started to darken, Helena looked out at the sun rays faintly shining orange over the surrounding buildings. She headed into her bedroom and kneeled down, pulling open one of the drawers under her bed. Out of this drawer she lifted her mask, magenta with a metallic sheen, white lenses shaped like scowling eyes and horn-like prongs adding to its imposing design. Helena stared down at it, her past stoking her grief and rage like fire. The messages she had intercepted and discussions among criminal networks she had spied on would all culminate with this one moment, her against Mandragora, a moment that would end with one walking away alive, the other lying stone dead. It left Helena in a state of melancholy how she was mainly leading this life because of that one night at her family estate. Evening was already closing in, and it was time to continue the hunt. ‘Ready or not, Mandragora…’ Helena thought as she reached another hand into the drawer. ‘Here I come.’ 

A black-gauntleted fist bashed into the stubbly jaw of a bald man in a brown leather jacket. A frightened brunette girl in a green hoodie lay on the ground staring up at her rescuer who had leapt seemingly out of the shadows of the small alley. Dazed from the punch, the thug turned back to the woman glaring at him through her mask’s lenses.

Outfitted in a black crop top, matching bikini bottoms and tall high-heeled boots, the holster at her waist and her flowing cape coloured in the same striking magenta as her mask, Huntress raised her fists and parted her bare legs in preparation for the fistfight to come.

“Do excuse me if I make the streets a little safer for girls at night.” she taunted the thug who grew very angry at being challenged in this way. “I make girls like you PAY for messin’ with me!” The thug threw himself bodily at his attacker, the young girl he had been after screaming in fright. 

Huntress swung a foot in a karate kick that caught the man’s chest with one great smack! This got a gasp of pain from him, the girl gasped at what she had seen the mysterious woman do. Though he stumbled back, the man only snarled and lunged his hands forward to grab Huntress, who threw herself into a somersault over his head! Landing right behind the confused thug, she snatched him by his jacket collar, yanked him towards herself and headbutted him in his angry face! Howling as he clung to where she had just battered him, the thug had no intention of either surrendering or fleeing for safety. “You…I’m gonna -” He reached out for Huntress while keeping his left hand over his sore face, but she just wove straight past him and caught his right arm in both hands. “LET GO OF - ” The thug and Huntress wrestled with one another furiously, pulling and straining back and forth in the confines of the alley. All the girl could do was huddle up in fear against the wall, wondering how this was going to end. With a warlike yell, Huntress bent the thug’s arm. CRACK! The resulting sound got the thug screaming in agony. Huntress saw her chance, putting the sole of her boot to his stomach and shoving him to the ground flat on his back. Desperate to bring this woman down, the man caught her round the leg with his still-working left hand. “AGH! After this I swear I’ll -” Huntress just crashed her knee down onto his jaw, sandwiching his head painfully up against the stone! By now his injuries had become too much and all he could do was wail, the girl simply shocked at all this. “It’ll be alright, kid…” Huntress told her, pressing her knee against the thug’s head. The girl could only watch as this vigilante tortured the man groaning and whining under her weight. “Now get going, quick. I want to have a little word with this scum.” Being so afraid of both the man who had attacked her, and to an extent, the woman who had just come to her aid, the girl picked herself up and ran down the alley to find help. 

With the girl out of the way, Huntress glared down at the man she was keeping pinned to the ground, listening to his panicked cries. “Okay, punk…” she started, her knee like a vice over his head. “A while ago I heard you and your gang at that club back there having a pretty interesting discussion, before you decided to go after that defenceless girl for your own sick amusement.” “Take your - AGH! Take your knee off my head, you filthy little - ” The thug’s furious shouting became a cry of fear when Huntress drew her purple crossbow out of her holster, the tip of its arrow pointed squarely at his face. “Don’t even go there…” Huntress harshly warned, keeping the weapon steady and a finger on the trigger as her opponent shivered under her. “One of your pals mentioned someone I’m looking for.” Hearing all this, the thug found himself torn between two options. Either he could try to throw this woman off him and brutalise her for humiliating him and breaking his right arm, or he could spill so he would at least survive and see another day, particularly when he had a crossbow bolt hovering in front of his bruised face. “Uh…Uhh…” Whether he was intending to shout at her again or cooperate, Huntress’ rage bubbled to the surface even as she kept her knee on him. “Come on!” she barked instantly, the arrow ready to pierce the thug’s face. “Tell me what you were saying about Steven Mandragora, or I’ll - ” “Our boss!” the thug burbled, his skull feeling as though it could crack like an egg any second. At this, Huntress moved her knee, her crossbow still trained on his face. “Your boss…?” she repeated, giving him a sceptical look from under her mask’s lenses. “Our - our boss - our boss, he, he’s meetin’ up with this Mand - Mandr - Mandragora guy…” the thug confessed and slumped his head back, the fight well and truly taken out of him. “They’re talkin’ about - about a…about a partnership! Our group, we’re - we’re - plannin’ - plannin’ somethin’ major, somethin’ that’ll impress Man - Mandragora!” Huntress listened with a scowl as the thug explained this like a misbehaving boy who had to own up to his actions to his parents. “The boss - the boss wants - he wants Mandragora to…to cut him in on the action!” he weakly continued. “He wants a place in - in whatever Mandragora has planned! That’s all I know! Look - I just - I just do the things they tell me to do!” Huntress curled her lip contemptuously at how this brute lay there coming undone in such a pathetic fashion right after he had terrorised that poor girl. When she heard footsteps down the alley, the vigilante got to her feet. “Thank you. Now that you’ve been of some help, let’s hope your prison cell has cable.” Huntress aimed her crossbow over her head, fired a grappling bolt and went whooshing up to the rooftops, where she disappeared. “Aw, no! Not prison! You can’t do this! I’m innocent, I tell ya!” the thug shouted, but his broken arm and other bodily injuries prevented any chance he had of getting up and escaping. 

A man in a blue cap and trousers and grey jacket, a police officer, appeared beside a stern dark-haired woman in grey trousers and brown holster shoulder straps over her black shirt. Both were being led by the girl the thug had chased. “That’s him! He grabbed at me while I was walking home!” the girl told the two officers, pointing down at the man. “Okay, you know the drill.” the older woman, Renee Montoya, said to the cop who marched towards the thug. “No! She’s a dirty li’l liar! It’s not true! I never grabbed nobody!” the thug ranted, too weak to fight off the cop clapping handcuffs around his wrists. Montoya, a seasoned detective and one of the few reliable officers in Gotham’s Police Department, noticed the bruising on the thug’s face and how limp his right arm looked. “Doesn’t he look a little roughed up?” she asked the girl as the cop pulled the struggling criminal down the alley. “A woman in a mask, she appeared out of nowhere and protected me from him.” the girl answered, which got Montoya raising her eyebrows. “Yeah, might she have been a friend of a certain Dark Knight?” “I don’t know. Probably. But she really pounded the living heck out of the guy. For a minute I thought she was going to kill him.” the girl explained nervously. Montoya frowned at just how brutal this woman sounded. Whoever she was, she didn’t sound like someone from ‘his’ camp, unless one of them had gone crazy and he wasn’t paying much attention. “Well, at least she stopped short of doing that. And you’re safe, that’s what ma - ” Montoya was interrupted by the buzz of the radio on her belt, then a gruff male voice with a strong Brooklyn accent called out, “Bullock to Montoya! Come in, Montoya!” “Excuse me, kid.” Montoya told the girl and pressed a finger to her radio. “Go ahead, Bullock.” “We need you back here. They got a possible lead.” the man on the other end informed her. “They’re anticipatin’ some big mob-related activity any minute.” “I’ll be there pronto, Bullock.” Montoya assured him. “Look, don’t take long.” Bullock was urging her. “Sources say this could be somethin’ major-league. Even the commish has got the jitters.” Montoya huffed at this. “Come on, kid.” She turned to the girl and led her on. “I’ll just walk you home, then I gotta get back to it. Duty calls, you know.” Glad to have the extra protection, the girl followed Montoya out of the alley, though she curiously glanced behind her where that woman in the cape and mask had first appeared. Who was she? 

Elsewhere, Helena was walking down more of Gotham’s bleak, forbidding alleys. Except now she was now out of her Huntress mask, gloves, cape and boots. With the information she had handily got from the thug back there, she had put on a sharp-looking dark purple jacket over one of her seductively short black turtleneck minidresses with matching stiletto heels. Completing her undercover attire was a pair of earrings that each hung a tiny silver crucifix, a show of her Catholic faith. Holding her favourite satchel over her shoulder, she stayed alert for any figures that could pose the slightest threat. No matter how frighteningly claustrophobic the litter-strewn alleys looked, Helena strode on in the directions that would lead her that much closer to her goal. There would be more stepping stones before she found Steven Mandragora, but now she could see the pieces of the puzzle coming together. 

When she saw the next alley from across, Helena headed up to the double doors of the very same club where she had spied on those men. She could hear raucous guitar music pounding continuously from inside. ‘Here goes…’ she told herself.

As the music inside drowned out the clicking of her heels, she pushed her way through the doors into the seedy, dark space that was barely lit up by a reddish-purple glow. There were several people, tough-looking men and simpering women with glasses and bottles of alcohol crowded around tables and slot machines. The rock music screamed and roared on through Helena’s ears, but she put on her most innocent, airy smile in order to blend in. Sashaying past menacing goons who either leered at her or at other women, or just went on drinking, two of them at a table locked in an arm-wrestling match, she peered around the place hoping to find any of those other men she had overheard. Once she got to the bar where a short balding man in an apron and round spectacles sorted through some glasses, Helena took one of the tall seats and placed some dollar bills onto the counter. “Your driest martini, pal.” she requested. The bartender got out a bottle, filling a glass and adding a lemon slice before passing it to Helena who grinned in appreciation. Just as she took a sip, the rock tune still hammering on through the club, Helena noticed the bartender freezing and glancing past her. “>Huh-hum< S’cuse me, miss…” There was a British cockney accent in the male voice behind her instead of the expected American one. Rotating her seat with martini in hand, Helena looked up with that ever-innocent smile of hers at the tall, broad-shouldered man in a charcoal grey leather jacket, a black vest and blue jeans. It was one of the men she had eavesdropped on! He was staring down at her with a slightly suspicious expression on his strong-jawed face, his hair and sideburns shaven down to the barest stubble. “Y’do know this club’s private, right?” He seemed like he was trying to get her to leave without coming across as aggressive. “Oh, sorry, sir.” Helena responded, widening her smile and putting a hand to her chest to keep up her ‘brainless beauty’ facade. “I just - I - didn’t see any sign saying private in the first place. I swear I shan’t cause any trouble…” She sipped her martini as the British-accented man towered over her. “Yeah, well,” he started, thinking of what to say next. “I’m afraid there’s some delicate stuff - I - I mean - ” He stopped and Helena put her glass to her lips when she caught the little slip-up. ‘Delicate stuff…good, good…’ she thought, crossing her legs which she hoped would catch the Brit’s eye and give her an advantage over him. “I mean, it ain’t safe for you ‘ere, ma’am. Know wot I mean?” he explained awkwardly. Helena couldn’t let this man send her out, or she would lose Mandragora’s trail. But she also couldn’t risk making a wrong move and drawing too much attention to herself. “Relax, big guy…” she sweetly replied, lifting a hand and lightly poking the Brit in his wide chest, which did catch him slightly off-guard. “I always hang out in places like this. Besides, I’m starting to get a little comfy here…” For good measure, she traced her hand along her thigh and watched the Brit dropping his gaze downwards. “I - uh - well I think - ” He was trailing off, though it seemed he was still determined to see her out. “I dunno, I’ll ‘ave to ‘ave a word with -” 

“What’s going on, Lonny?” Another man’s voice, American-accented and younger this time, broke through the screams of guitar music and the chatter from the crowd.

It was another one of the men Helena had spied on. This one was tall and angular, possibly in his thirties if not late twenties. He had that classic ‘bad boy’ look about him, the way he wore his tar-black hair in a slick pompadour with a brown leather jacket, a purple crew neck shirt and black trousers. Lonny, the Brit, turned to this other man while Helena listened. “Well, you see, this lady ‘ere, she just came in without no permission. I’m just tryin’ ter let her know it’s priva - ” “It’s all right, Lonny, I got this.” the other man smoothly reassured him, turning to Helena who got a good look at his long-chinned face that featured an arrogant smirk and shockingly chiselled cheekbones. Those cheekbones made his face look as if it had been sculpted from marble. “Come on, guys, can’t a girl finish her pretty expensive martini?” she pleaded, shooting him and Lonny her most alluring look with pursed lips and eyelids lowered. The younger man with the cheekbones and pompadour (‘Elvis’ she decided to call him) clearly liked what he saw as his dark eyes hungrily took in the sight of this woman in a tight little minidress reclining in her seat, her jacket drooping around her so he could catch a hint of her upper arms and those crucifix earrings serving to sweeten the deal. “Better idea: why not have yourself an extra glass,” he proposed, settling down into the seat next to her and slapping some money onto the bar. “On me.” Then he said to the bartender, “And my usual.” Lonny grew confused at this. “But - but Par - ” “That’ll be all, thank you, Lonny.” the young man interrupted as the bartender placed a second martini and a beer bottle in front of him and Helena. Helena keenly observed ‘Elvis’ take the bottle for himself and move the other martini towards her. 

“Sorry about him. It’s not very often we get such a hot chick showing up at our little joint.” Aware of how guys like him had a habit of addressing her in this fashion, Helena gave this man a smirk of her own in order to appear flattered. “Believe me, tiger, you’ll find this chick’s more than just a pretty face…” Acting all laid-back, she rested an arm against the bar and sipped her martini. This got Elvis himself turning from his beer to the raven-haired woman whose company he seemed to really enjoy. “Indulge me, then, sweetie. What other nice little…assets do you squeeze in that tight little dress of yours?” Keeping herself from choking on her drink at that…turn of phrase, Helena tilted her head and stretched her lips into a wider smile to give the impression that his words amused her. “Well, I happen to have a few…connections.” She needed to drop a word or two that could get Elvis hooked. At least then she could compel him to spill any secrets he might be holding. “Will any of these…connections get mad that you’re hanging around the bar with me?” he asked partially in jest. Helena sipped from her glass and thought quickly. “Not bad, honey, but a relative of mine did some, well, business if you like, with Rupert Thorne.” Deciding this little namedrop would do nicely, she made sure to frown. “We’ve had to move on since then, what with that lunatic in the mask and cape, and all the other costumed animals trashing this city as we know it.” 

“Rupert Thorne, huh?” Elvis repeated with a certain amount of interest. “And what’s it to you?” Helena teased, hoping this was going the way she thought it was. “Not to worry, cutie.” Elvis arrogantly told her. “In a few short days, things in Gotham will be off to a fresh start.” “Fresh start? Do tell.” Helena persuaded, putting her glass to her lips. “Gladly. So tomorrow night, my uncle’s got me leading a little operation.” Elvis explained, taking a glug from his beer. “It’s gonna be a big one. After that, things are gonna change around here. See, babe, all those fedoras and Chicago typewriters are ‘Number 1 Ancient History street.’ Gotham City’s future lies in the very latest stuff, like what those masked geeks use, only we’re more daring, we have guts. Oh, and expect a bit of blood and guts along the way. When we get started, minds are gonna be blown, if our guns don’t blow ‘em first.” Listening to this psychopath loftily monologue about this bright future of his, Helena knew she had to steer the discussion to a certain name. “Wow. Can’t wait to hear about it…” she replied dryly and took another sip of her martini. Leaning towards the long-chinned Elvis lookalike, she decided to reel him even further in. “If you’d like, I could speak with my connections, see what they think if you succeed in this job, and they could soon have a little proposition in store for your uncle.” Elvis lifted an eyebrow and faced her with his continuous smirk. “A girl with some mob blood in her. I like it…” he drawled, his fingers dangling the beer bottle by its rim. Helena grinned back, when in reality she was simply anxious to have her parents’ killer in her sights and pull the trigger of her crossbow already. But she needed to keep this going just a little longer first. “Well, tiger, I always have an eye for business.” “In more ways than one, huh, babe?” Elvis purred, his ogling nearly causing Helena’s stomach to twist. But this wasn’t the time to feel disturbed. It was now or never. “There is one name I have…special interest in.” she mentioned as she prepared another sip of her drink. “Special interest? Do go on…” Elvis urged, hunched at the bar. It freaked Helena out how he looked like some predatory animal about to pounce. “You haven’t heard of a…Steven Mandragora, have you?” Helena questioned carefully, lightly holding her breath. “Heh, small underworld, huh?” Elvis responded smoothly as ever. The sounds of head-banging music and the crowd’s chatter came close to spoiling Helena’s focus. “You’re in luck actually. He’s meeting up with my uncle in a few days.” the man explained, which got her silently breathing out in relief. “A lot’s riding up on this job tomorrow. We’re already building a massive fortune, some of it from what the old gangs lost, thanks to those knights in long underwear.” He tipped the bottle to his mouth then smacked his lips at the refreshing flavour of beer. “All we have to do is pull off the mission and Mandragora himself will be sitting down to dinner with my uncle. From there, there’ll be a new boss in town.” 

Helena now decided she had this sucker right where she wanted him, and in a short while, he’d lead her to the other sucker who killed her parents. Putting down her now empty glass, she raised the one Elvis had ordered her. “Well, to a fresh start.” she replied. Elvis clinked his bottle against hers and they both swigged their drinks. “I don’t suppose you’d care to tell me where I can meet up with you tomorrow?” Helena then asked, gauging the oily-haired gangster for a reaction. “It’s a date, honey-bun.” he agreed with that simpering stare, which she was trying her best not to put her fist through. “The Jack C. Grissom building, down Palance Avenue, 11pm.” Helena winked at him and pointed at him with the same hand with which she was holding her martini. “Gotcha.” Then she tipped her glass to her lips. She hoped to catch this guy when he was executing whatever tomorrow’s plan was, but she might need his next location if she failed. 

Just then a black man with a short beard and a grey hoodie came into the club and went up to Lonny who was playing on a slot machine. Something the man said to Lonny got him gaping back in shock before he strode up to where his boss was still trying to smooth-talk Helena. “And what may I - Ugh! What is it now, Lonny?” Elvis demanded in annoyance, whipping his head back to his right-hand man. “It’s Wade! The coppers got ‘im! He’s ‘ad an arm broken and they’re marchin’ ‘im to the station.” Lonny explained worriedly. “Chill out, Lonny.” Elvis interrupted, looking away from the Brit. “I’m sure we didn’t tell him too much about tomorrow. They won’t get jack out of him.” Helena tried to hide her amused smirk, knowing exactly what they were on about. Lonny looked apprehensive over how Elvis so casually dismissed the news. “Uh, you sure? I think -” “Tomorrow goes as planned.” Elvis abruptly insisted, his back to the cockney goon. “Can’t a guy talk business with a hot babe? Get back to partying or something.” Helena watched as Lonny tried to argue further. Eventually he walked away, returning to the slot machine he had been playing on. “Where was I? Oh, yeah,” Elvis continued, sipping from his bottle before smiling at Helena flirtatiously. “So what may I call you, gorgeous?” Getting into character with her sweetest, sloppiest grin, Helena delicately sipped her drink. “The name’s Amy. Amy Casamento.” She couldn’t let this guy connect her either to Huntress or her civilian identity. At least using her mother’s maiden name would make her alias sound believable enough. “And you are…?” With his eyes hooded suggestively, the ‘bad boy’ leaned back against the bar and took a swig of his beer. “Call me Paris.” he answered, purplish-red light dancing across the side of his thin face. “Paris Franz.”

Chapter 6

Chapter 8: TBC

[theknightofivanhoe]

Un idea brilliante, crosspunzel.

So Elsa rubbed the cream on Hiccup’s chest and back, then, growing a little shy and blushing, offered him to do her cream next. If she turned herself round, then he glanced down, causing Elsa to giggle and wiggle her bikini-clad butt at him, saying in a singsong voice, “Hiccup…are you staring at by boo-tiiiie?” How do you think Hiccup would react?

Hola, crosspunzel. ¡Mucho gusto!

So for a little Hiccelsa scenario, Hiccup is in green swim shorts sitting on a lounge chair by a swimming pool (that someone has let him use) struggling to get some cream out of a tube. While he tries to get the tube to work, someone comes right up to him wearing a magenta gown and black pumps. Next Hiccup watches as the gown slides and he looks up at Elsa with her hair braided in a bun (her coronation hairstyle) and wearing skimpy teal green bikini bottoms with long black sleeves on the top. Elsa puts a hand on her hip, smirks and asks “What d’you think? Like my bikini?” Then she winks at him.

How do you think Hiccup would react?

Pues.... I think he could blush and get nervous but then quickly tries to act as a cool dude (I only watched the first how to train your dragon movie jsjsj) and then elsa could giggle and help him with the suncream.

[theknightofivanhoe]

Thank you very much for the Esperanza commission, @somewillwin

Hope you enjoyed drawing Esperanza as much as I enjoy drawing her. You did excellently in bringing out her tough cookie spirit and her raw emotion with her battle pose.

Always looking forward to what art you upload next and it was a pleasure to collaborate with you.

aaaaw omg this message was so nice 🥹🥹 I had a lot of fun drawing her! It was a pleasure 🩵🩵