Author's Notes: So this story is turning out to be darker than I originally intended. It is however approaching its grand finale. Issue 4 will be the conclusion, and trust me: it is a doozy! But for now: enjoy the penultimate part of Black and Green.

1 cut.

Stephanie Brown. Tall. Blonde. Slim. Beautiful. The Spoiler. The love of Tim Drake's life as she is of his. By day, a friendly chirpy college student with her head in the stars. By night, exactly the same, except she wears a purple costume with a hood. Tonight, she's going to wish she didn't.

2 cuts.

It's dark. It's late. It's Gotham. She should be at home, tucked in bed, asleep. Safe. She can almost picture it if she tries very hard. In her cute little purple pyjamas. Of course they're purple. Tim's arms around, holding her close, never letting go. Her skin pressed to his, her legs tangled and tied to his toned body. Tim's hands caressing her smooth skin as his lips lay kisses down her vulnerable neck. Her whole body trembling with anticipation. Wrapped up in a cocoon of bedding and covers as they make love. But she's not in bed. She's on the streets. She's the Spoiler. And she's in over her head.

3 cuts.

Any other night she'd be striking terror into criminals hearts. Any other night she'd have Tim at her side, the Red Robin. Any other night, this would be fun, and she'd be teasing him, and in the quiet moments, in the deep and lovely dark, he'd hold her close, rain trickling down their cheeks, breathing as sharp as daggers, and lips pressed together, breathing each other in. His Stephanie. Her Timothy. This is not any other night.

4 cuts

Water splashes over her boot as she runs through the damp streets. Fear is her fuel. She has never felt it this strong. It's the laughter that really gets to her. They want to hurt her. They want to be cruel. They want so much more than that. Their names are Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy. She is their prey. And they are her nightmare. With Tim, she'd stand a chance. With Tim, she'd be safe by morning. She is not with Tim. She runs. They walk. She has no hope.

5 cuts.

They draw blood. The sharp edge of the knife pressed against her cheek. Spoiler is helpless. She can feel the end drawing near. Green vines have gripped her wrists and ankles. She is held in place in a dark alleyway. Everything in Gotham seems to end in a dark alleyway. Her fear is so strong they can smell it. Her fear is delicious. Harley giggles. Ivy smirks. Steph doesn't know which is worse.

6 cuts.

They trapped her. They chased her. They cornered her. They baited her. They defeated her. They spoiler her. And Stephanie does not know why but she knows what comes next. They beat her. Harley strikes first, the razor blade dancing between her finger. It swipes her other cheek. Then a fist crashes into her stomach and she cries out. Before long she is coughing up blood. The colour of Ivy's lips. Harley sniggers: "that costume looks awful tight..."

7 cuts.

They strip her. But not like humans. Like animals. With the blade. Slashing and tearing. Her costume falls away from her in shreds. Steph is held there on display in her underwear, for the whole world to see. She'd take the world over these two anyday. "Look at that," Harley grins moronically for ear to ear, "she has bat-panties!" Stephanie can feel her face flushing red. Red like Ivy's hair. Why are her eyes always drawn to Poison Ivy. Well, she's only human.

8 cuts.

The vines release her and she falls to her hands and knees. Her smooth perfect skin is marked now by cuts and bruises. She is beaten and battered. A harsh hand grabs a fistful of her hair and pulls her up. It is not the clown this time. Stephanie finds her eyes meeting Ivy's. "Poor little thing" she tuts. She has been smashed and pounded by these two so much she might be broken. And the night is just getting started.

9 cuts.

The hands are soft. Four of them. Two from each of her hands. And they are all over her. Steph can't breathe. She couldn't even if Harley wasn't choking her. Ivy's hands are worse. Because they're not choking her. They're stroking her. Stephanie tries to stop her hips from bucking and spasming without success. She tries to stop her panties from growing steadily wetter as Ivy's fingers search thoroughly beneath them. She tries not to enjoy it. She really does.

10 cuts.

Poison Ivy has found her rhythm now. Two fingers. Pumping in and out. The blonde vigilante is just too good. And now that Harley has abandoned her throat, both of the villains get great satisfaction from the noises Spoiler is making. Moans and groans and wails and best of all: the whimpering. The broken beautiful whimpering. Steph can't stop herself. Ivy is fingering her too hard and too rough and too well. She looks to the pale skinned Harley Quinn, grateful to be able to breathe but fearful of what she has planned. Harley has her phone out. She is filming it.

11 cuts.

It's for their personal collection. That's what she hears Harley say. Their very own video of Stephanie Brown being punished. Punished for trying to do good in a city like this. And with punishment comes pain. "I want you to beg" Ivy whispers. "I want you to beg to be mine." Steph is trembling as Ivy's fingers retract from the blonde's knickers. She watches helplessly as Ivy licks her fingers clean. Then her broken body aches as Ivy flips her onto her front and brings the palm of her hand down on Stephanie's petite bottom.

12 cuts.

Spanking. Truth be told, Steph loved it. When Tim pinned her down or even tied her up, then he slapped her butt over and over until it was as red as his costume. She asked him for it. She begged him for it. She knew he loved to give it to her. This wasn't a game though. This was Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn taking it in turns to thrash her ass with all of their strength while the other held the camera. She was in tears. Her ass was beyond stinging, it was screaming. Red bruises scorched her rear. They just laughed.

13 cuts.

They wanted her to beg. She begged. She begged them to stop. She broke down into tears. Suddenly she felt so small. And though she hated to admit it, so aroused. She hated to admit it but they made her. Then she begged again. She begged her new mistress to claim her. Ivy rolled her onto her back and straddled her waist. Harley stood back now, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, uncharacteristically quiet. Steph's breathing fastened to near impossible speeds as the redhead let her hands rest on the blonde's small but firm breasts, squeezing tightly. Ivy leaned forwards and locked her lips with Stephanie's. 13 cuts. 52 slaps, 23 bruises, 17 tears and 13 cuts. And now it was finally over.


Dick Grayson stood motionless, staring at his hands. Those hands were alien to him. Unknown. The things they had done were unimaginable. Selina Kyle's bed. Her body. His hands. The way he'd left her that night. Slapped. Bruised. Crying. Cut. And all that time he'd seen Barbara. What if it had really been her. The gorgeous redheaded crimefighter with a burst of freckles across the ridge of her nose and eyes so intense they could melt mountains. If it had been her...

Naked. Tied to the bed. His hands crashing into every stretch of skin they could find. Sometimes, stroking, caressing, feeling, loving. Other times, they were harsher, hitting, slapping, pinching, scratching. Leaving his mark on her so she'd never forget. She screamed his name more times than he could count. Over and over. Whether it was lust or pain he couldn't tell. He didn't care. He fucked her. He screwed her. He nailed her. He drilled her. He pounded her. ... He loved her. But it wasn't her. It was Catwoman. And he wasn't a hero anymore.

Whatever he was before, the demon inside had taken over. There was no more Dick Grayson. Only Nightwing. And now Nightwing stood face to face with the devil herself.

Barbara Gordon. Batgirl. Lost. And now found. Eyes locked at last. But this was not his Batgirl. The cowl was the same but the costume was gone. Replaced by a scattering of leaves. Barely enough to cover her modesty. Nightwing fought to regain control. "You found me," she said. He didn't trust himself to reply so he waited. And so she continued.

"Selina Kyle sent you. The mistress said she would. The Catwoman owes her a favour. And now you will be ours. The first son. It will break his heart." Batgirl smiles, devoid of warmth. Nightwing is silent. Pause. "You do love me don't you?" Barbara's voice says. Finally Nightwing speaks: "yes."

Batgirl steps towards him. Nightwing hesitates. Then he lunges. His hand cups her cheek, his mouth presses onto hers. Her hands fly to his sides. Her legs tremble. He lowers her to the ground. She is his. The black and blue are stripped from Nightwing. The leaves fall from Batgirl. They are together. Forever. Until they are not.

The kiss does not break. The kiss cannot break. It is eternal. "love me harder," she breathes. And he does. She is not Batgirl anymore. He does not care. He thrusts into her with all his might, slamming her body against the floor as he rocks his hips. He is not Nightwing anymore. He does not care. He loves her. And there is so much left to do to her.


Harley Quinn is not laughing. It just sounds like it. Her friend is gone. Poison Ivy is no more. Replaced by a monster. She will do anything to win. And to win, she has sacrificed herself. Harley would cry if she wasn't so busy laughing. Pretending to be laughing. Never laughing. He is coming. The dark angel of Gotham. There will be blood. But not red. Black. Black and Green. She wants to laugh. She tries to laugh. But she knows her 13 cuts are coming.


To Be Concluded...