Harley Arkham City Costume Novels & Stories

"O- Okay. I won't. Not unless he hurts someone." "Thank you. Now go get ready." "I will." Kiara agreed, slipping out of the room vastly. With a sigh of relief, Harley returned to her own preparations and frowned as a new idea crossed her mind. Going back to the closet, she dug through it until she found an old, baggy black hoodie and then she took it out, and tucked it away into her bag. Perhaps Mason had already tried it before, but it would be worth the shot if it meant being able to cover his vampirism a little better and slightly diminish his chances of being discovered.

I was standing infront of him as he gently cupped my cheek, I could see his tattooed strong arms peeking though his sleeves. I wonder if Harold also has tattoos in his whole body, probably every mafia has tattoos. I looked up at Harold as he was busy chewing his food. He was wearing a full sleeved black hoodie and I have never seen him in half sleeved t-shirts or shirtless and I don't even want to see him shirtless. Probably he'll have those strong abs and biceps... uhg. Think of a shirtless Dylan. He'll probably be like spicy meat without any shirt on.

The call of the underground fight club was irresistible. Without hesitation, I changed into my typical clothes for the night - a plain white t-shirt, jeans, a black leather jacket, and a black hat to conceal my identity. It was a transformation from Wyatt Lane, the business tycoon, to Hawk, the underground fighter, a metamorphosis that was becoming alarmingly routine.

Dreams do come true? Fitz pushes me back against his front door. I gasp as he drops to his knees in front of me. He reaches up between my breasts and unzips my costume all the way down to my ankles. I wanted to go as the traditional Harley Quinn, so I wore a black and red jumpsuit that looks like a court jester’s costume. But instead of the hat, I let my dark curls run wild. It feels like a second skin, but it actually gave me some extra confidence tonight. Enough that I’ve been far bolder than I ever have with anyone before. He waits, and I step out of the costume, letting it fall to the floor. I’m standing in front of him completely naked. Nervous excitement courses through me.

Everything isn't made out of candy but scary masks, make-up, and costumes. I look at the teen aisle, searching for the perfect couple costume for me and Logan to wear, but teenager costumes can't fit these huge thighs of mine. And Logan is too massive to wear anything smaller than his large frame. "Hey, Effie, why don't you and Logan be Batman and Catwoman?" Lily held up two costumes. I stare at the Catwoman costume with the picture of a slim brunette hair lady with the same skin color as Halle Berry, who wore the outfit when she portrayed the character in the movie.

"Yes, that's what...." "We are here, people!" Harley yelled, shutting Xavier up and claiming everyone's attention. Harley and Giselle are standing close to the entrance door. Harley is in a short black leather skirt, black boots, lemon green crop top and black fur coat. Giselle has a long black coat covering her entire body. Her face is glittering with makeup and her hair in styled in a very beautiful way. Arabella got on her feet angrily and walked towards Xavier. They shared a look and looked back at Harley and Giselle.

The color of silence and oil and high-end murder. Contacts slide over my irises, tinting them a darker brown. A little colder. A little more detached. My lips are painted bloodred. My brows reshaped. Freckles erased. The scar on my shoulder is covered with concealer and powder and a thin dusting of shimmer, like it never existed. I barely recognize myself. And I like it. Hale’s transformation is quieter but no less potent. He trades out his usual black for something more expensive—midnight silk, custom tailored. His stubble is clean. His hair slicked back. He wears a watch that costs more than the entire wing we’re standing in.

Halloween week at Fantasy Island meant themed costumes, and Madam Fantasy had been clear: go big or go home. I adjusted my mask in the mirror. Black and silver, covering the top half of my face, with small silver chains that dangled near my temples. The mask was my safety. My shield. Without it, I was just Jane Puckett, broke college student. With it, I was Jailbird, whoever the hell I wanted to be. The dressing room smelled like hairspray and body glitter. Keiko was beside me, dressed as Catwoman, her mask sleek and minimal. Cammie had gone full Harley Quinn, complete with a baseball bat covered in rhinestones.

The Iron Wolves. I wiped my hands on a rag and stepped out of the garage bay. Five bikes rolled into the parking lot, their chrome gleaming in the noon sun. Dax Steele rode at the front, his Harley customized with details that made my mechanic's heart appreciate the craftsmanship even as my brain screamed at me to run. He dismounted with that same predatory grace I'd witnessed last night. Today he wore a leather vest over a black t-shirt, his club patches prominently displayed, Vice President. The Iron Wolves logo, a snarling wolf's head surrounded by flames and dominated his back.

She is dressed like Harley Quinn and I must say it suits her. Jules is the Joker. Coincidence? Perhaps. But I also knew how he was going to dress and I persuaded Lilian to dress like Harley Quinn. Right now they are looking at each other, laughing and being all “Oh, my god, can you imagine it?!” I am at the bar, waiting for my drink when George approaches me. He is dressed like Thor. “And who the fuck are you?” He asks, looking at me. I am wearing a white shirt and a high-waisted skirt with a headband.