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plasticnightmaredoll · 3 years

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So, the "Justice League" finally got its own movie, eh? Oh, that thing from 2017 was just trash. It's gone. We don't need to look at it anymore.

But in all seriousness, it's great people called out for the Zack Snyder cut of the movie and actually got it! And, yes, it is a vast improvement over the Joss Whedon cut.

Now, my feelings about the DCEU have been pretty divided:

I actually did enjoy "Man of Steel" and found Superman to be relatable and likable for once (I'm not a Superman fan and don't come for me)

"Wonder Woman" was very entertaining and easily the best entry for me in the movie series so far.

"Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice" was a hot mess. Lots of good ideas but it was executed poorly. It felt kind of cheesy at times, especially that whole "Save Martha" thing. Jesse Eisenburg is not a convincing Lex Luthor. Ben Affleck is not a good actor and is a terrible Batman/Bruce Wayne. He's not as bad as George Clooney, but he's not much better either.

"Wonder Woman 1984" was a massive glow-down. Poor quality writing, Maxwell Lord was a weak villain, Cheetah was laughable, and the ending was so goddamn corny! Not to mention, it took ages for anything interesting to happen, and what was the deal with Steve Trevor possessing another dude's body? I mean...what?

Haven't seen "Suicide Squad" in its entirety but I do know and have seen enough to decide that it's a huge misstep. Haven't seen "Birds of Prey (And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn)" either but I have some interest in it so perhaps someday.

Haven't watched "Aquaman" but probably will eventually but I'm just not very motivated to see it. I like Jason Mamoa as Aquaman/Arthur Curry, but...I don't know. The trailers didn't really grab my attention.

The 2017 Joss Whedon version of "Justice League" was terrible -- worse than "Batman v Superman," worse than "Wonder Woman 1984." I thought the movie moved too quickly, lacked proper character development, and had some bad CGI (I mean, Mustache Gate, am I right?)

Onto the Synder Cut for "Justice League!" Spoilers ahead, of course:

These are really a collection of thoughts, opinions, and observations I had while watching the movie. I have only seen the 2017 film once and honestly don't want to watch it ever again, not even to "refresh my memory" of some details.

Steppenwolf

Steppenwolf was such a pitiful villain in the Whedon Cut. The CGI for him was terrible, and he looked like some weird dude in armor. His personality and motives were paper thin as well. He was a throw-away, token villain, and the only things memorable about him was his name and voice.

In the Snyder Cut, not only was Steppenwolf's CGI much more refined, his character design was imposing. His armor seemed to be alive, too, always shifting slightly, this way and that, which was an impressive sight. His motives, while nothing too deep or extraordinary, gave him a little more depth: he pissed off Darkseid and had to make up for it, and was clearly afraid of what could happen to him if he failed.

The name and voice obviously were still memorable but combined with the other improvements to his character, they were icing on the cake.

That being said, I don't think Steppenwolf is as intriguing or even remotely sympathetic as Loki and Thanos in the MCU.

Darkseid

Was Darkseid even mentioned in the Whedon cut? I can't remember and I don't want to watch that shitty movie again just to find out. However, I don't recall Darkseid making an appearance or even being spoken of in the 2017 version. Now, I haven't read DC (or Marvel) comics, so I don't know a lot about the guy, but he is supposedly one of the more iconic villains.

His motives are pretty simple, though: command and conquer. There isn't a lot of depth so far in the movies but he does pose a much larger threat than Steppenwolf did. You could tell Steppenwolf was intimidated by Darkseid, who was about as cold and menacing as they come. He's a complete villain in that regard, having no emotions and only seeking power for himself.

He looked great in the Snyder Cut. He was actually really fucking scary-looking. He made the beefcake Steppenwolf look like a puppy.

I'm glad that Darkseid made an appearance, even if he didn't fight the Justice League. It alludes to a much broader story, as well as foreshadows an epic boss fight down the line -- assuming the Snyder Cut is popular enough to convince the studios to make a direct sequel and not just abandon things in favor of some sort of soft reboot.

Superman/Clark Kent/Henry Cavill/Mustache Gate

Let's get this out of the way: Henry Cavill is hot af.

Ok, now that we got that out of the way, hooray for Snyder for getting rid of those nasty reshoot scenes involving Henry's CGI'd mouth! Can't say I missed them, you know? I mean, in the 2017 Whedon Cut, you could always spot reshoot scenes based on whether or not Henry's mouth looked normal and totally strange.

I think the 2017 movie had Superman grab Batman by the neck and ask, "Tell me: Do you bleed?" I'm relieved that was removed from the Synder Cut because it added too much of an evil tone to Superman, and we could clearly tell he was most upset with Batman upon being revived.

One massive problem with the 2017 movie was that it made every member of the Justice League look like bumbling idiots without Superman's help. It was downright embarrassing and unrealistic. I mean, you're telling me that Wonder Woman, a goddess, can't take on Steppenwolf? Or Victor Stone, a cyborg with incredible abilities? Making Superman key to winning isn't the problem, it's how it was done in the 2017 movie. He's already OP but that shouldn't mean his comrades have to be useless in comparison.

Superman was allowed to be OP in the Snyder Cut without making his team look incompetent. Like in the Avengers movies, everyone in the Justice League had a purpose and all of them worked together to defeat Steppenwolf. Superman obviously was key to winning, but, again, it wasn't like he was the only capable one during the battle.

I did like the black suit. It's kind of ominous but also very cool at the same time. But is it also foreshadowing something? I don't know...I haven't read the comics so I really don't have any idea lol.

Batman/Bruce Wayne/Batfleck

One glaring issue I still have is Ben Affleck is a mediocre actor at best and he's a terrible Bruce Wayne/Batman. I mean, they couldn't have found anyone else? Someone with, like, good acting abilities?

Martian Manhunter

This whole time -- THIS WHOLE GOTDAMM TIME -- Martian Manhunter was hiding in plain sight! General Swanwick, who I remember from "Man of Steel," IS Martian Manhunter. I didn't see that coming. I mean, I knew Martian Manhunter would appear in the Snyder Cut but I didn't know he'd have an alternate identity, let alone that of an existing character in the DCEU.

As much as I did like seeing him, I am glad he didn't play a big part because the movie already has plenty of characters as is, and introducing yet another one could have slowed things down and taken away from developing the plot.

The Runtime/Pacing

I mentioned already that the Whedon Cut felt rushed and needed much more time to develop its characters and plot. While I had doubts about whether or not making "Justice League" four hours long would be a good idea, it turns out that it was just what the story needed.

Character development was actually existent, and Cyborg/Victor Stone received a detailed backstory, and Flash/Barry Allen got some extra tidbits added to his character's story/background as well.

I actually thought Victor was a fascinating (if a bit tragic) character in the Whedon cut and was disappointed that he just sort of, like, popped up and fought alongside the other Justice League members with the tiniest amount of depth.

Despite an epic 4-hour runtime, it didn't feel slow, nor did it feel like any scenes were "filler." Every scene had a purpose and kept the story moving at a steady, comprehensible pace. It felt more like a 2.5-3 hour movie, honestly, which is a feat since pacing can often be one of a film's biggest issues ("Avengers: Endgame" also accomplished this feat with its 3-hour runtime feeling more like 2-2.5 hours but with no negative side effects of that). Breaking the movie into chapters, including an epilogue was a tad strange because it's not a very common thing, but I think it helped break up the epic 4 hours into separate, manageable but still cohesive pieces. Also, they helped easily transition from one portion to the next smoothly without any awkward cuts.

The Flash/Barry Allen/Ezra Miller

Barry still amused me in the Whedon Cut. He brought some good-natured humor and charm to the movie, preventing it from being too brooding and intense.

I think Ezra is a talented actor and does well in the Barry Allen role but he is, unfortunately, a problematic person. I mean, if he gets recast, he gets recast but hopefully, they pick someone else who has some acting abilities worth noting (i.e. Not a Ben Affleck type of actor)

The Final Battle

It was a huge improvement over the 2017 cut, as everyone was key to winning the final battle, not just Superman. It is meant to be a team of costumed heroes defeating a villain, not just one OP member of the team outdoing everyone else.

That being said, I felt that the final battle was a little bit anti-climatic. I don't know what it was but I just thought that it would be longer? I expected more to happen? More fighting? Not sure how to describe it, but I do feel like it wasn't as impressive as it could have been.

The Epilogue

A dystopian future involving an evil Superman and Joker somehow working WITH Batman was just...crazy. I mean, evil Superman, I can believe, but Joker and Batman working together (even reluctantly) is quite a sight.

Based on what I've been reading, this nightmare Bruce has could be setting up not one but two sequels for "Justice League." I would like to see how things will play out even if things get kind of dark. I'm getting the impression that Darkseid will kill Lois Lane, thus breaking Superman emotionally and making him compliant. That is unless Bruce intervenes in this timeline and prevents that from happening...but at the expense of his own life. Oh dear...

I definitely enjoyed the Zack Snyder version of "Justice League," and would definitely watch it again and again and again. I already have forgotten the majority of the Whedon Cut, and after seeing Synder's version, I think the 2017 movie will be rendered null and void. I hope it is just expelled from the DCEU canon entirely. That, and we get the "Justice League" sequels, preferably from Zack Snyder (Say what you want but I think he is a pretty good director for the most part and seems to really care about this work).

I honestly want to see a fight between the Justice League and Darkseid because I think that's what we're trying to build up to, and seeing as how Darkseid is one of the legendary villains in the DC comics, I would be extremely disappointed if this doesn't come to pass.

Also, as much as I like Batman/Bruce Wayne, seeing him sacrifice himself to save the team, including Lois and thus Superman's sanity, would be something else. It would bring everyone even closer together, for one, and I think that the negativity shared between Batman and Superman in the past would be completely forgiven. I'm not saying there isn't forgiveness now, but dying to save Superman's wife would change everything....if that makes sense? Does it make sense? I'm terrible at explaining my thoughts sometimes.

#justice league #zack snyder #dceu #snyder cut #zack snyder's justice league #superman #wonder woman #the flash #cyborg #martian manhunter #darkseid #steppenwolf #batman #barry allen #bruce wayne #diana prince #victor stone #aquaman #arthur curry

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imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 4 years

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Dangerous Love (Pt. 11 of 13)

Pairing: Bruce Wayne (Batman) X Harley Quinn's sister!Reader

Word count: 3K

Summary: You're Harley Quinn's sister, Havoc, one of the many villain's of Gotham. But you've been caught, and has been tortured constantly for an year in Belle Reve. But when your think your life can't be anything else than the nightmare you find yourself into, Bruce Wayne, the Batman, takes you in for a project. He has a program to rehabilitate villains, and you're his lab rat. But soon enough confusing feelings start getting in the way. You know falling for Bruce is stupid. But can you keep your heart under control?

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{Justice League - DC Masterlist}

Plans For The Future

You're seated on your knees, on the floor, before the coffee table where several sheets of paper are scattered around. The possibilities for your future. You left the League in the cave to discuss their business and came up here to do this. But it's been twenty minutes since you wrote down the last option, and you're still clueless.

“Any luck?” Barry is suddenly seated across from you, the wind he makes with he's speed messing with the papers. But he quickly gathers them again.

“No,” you mutter, feeling a little defeated. Seconds later the others are here too, and as if they were told to, they sit all around the coffee table, on the floor. Expect for Bruce, who sits on the couch, his legs near you.

“Isn't there anything you would like to do?”

“I can't really picture myself doing anything.” Running a hand through your hair, you sigh.

“You were so excited about it in the cave. What changed?" Diana asks, and you notice how everyone seems focused on you. In the last week, since they got back from Washington, the League seems very interested in you. There's a lot of effort to make you feel comfortable, and engage you in their conversations.

“Am I going crazy or are you guys like... Trying to make me get used to normal human interaction again?” Crossing your arms, you have your answer by the way they all exchange a glance and then stare at Bruce. “I knew it.”

“How did you find out?”

“Well, right now everyone is literally seated around the coffee table with me. Except for this weirdo here.” You elbow Bruce's leg, making Barry and Arthur giggle. “You're planning to take me out, aren't you?”

“You're very perceptive.” He says as he moves to seat on the floor with you, an arm around your shoulders. “I've been thinking about it for a while.”

“Do you think I can deal with the real world?” You ask him in a lower voice. You haven't been on the streets yet, and you're not sure how you'll feel among the people.

“Yes, I do.”

“You know people will think Bruce Wayne has a girlfriend, right? If we go out and you do things like hold my hand...” You bet it won't take half an hour for his name to be on the headlines again, and the news channels will talk about it. The world will know about your existence, and every girl who has her eyes on Bruce will know they lost their chance. “You'll have to keep a distance.”

“(Y/N), we're dating. I won't keep that a secret so yes, people will have to find out eventually.” He places a soft kiss on your nose before his lips connect to yours.

“Uhm... We're still here...” Barry mutters, reminding you of the public.

Weird how it only took half a second for you to forget you have company. “So... Now that I know why you guys are still around, help me find something to major in.”

“Let's see what you have here.” Diana starts, and everyone takes a piece of paper or two. “Doctor?”

“Nope. That was just a joke.” Bending over the table a little, you take the paper from her hand. “Moving on.”

“Nurse," Arthur says.

“Vet.” Clark reads.

“All jokes.” Wanting something isn't enough, you have to feel like you can do it. And you don't think you can.

“If you become a nurse you could patch him up.” Arthur gestures at Bruce who nods.

“Sweetheart if this is what you want you just need to say and I'll help you.”

“Me? A nurse? No way, it's too much for me. I need something easier.” You're not saying you're stupid, but why put effort into something on which you'll probably fail? No need to hurt your feelings.

“So you don't think you're smart enough?” Clark asks and you nod.

“If you weren't smart you wouldn't have survived this long as a criminal. And wouldn't have escaped the prison twice. Or fooled the Joker so many times.” Bruce says, and you tilt your head to the side a little, thinking. It did take some brain to do this stuff, calculations, memorization, and some random knowledge.

“It looks like this is what you want,” Arthur mumbles, elbows on the coffee table.

Nurses help people, and that's the exact opposite of what you did. You never really enjoyed hurting people though, at least not normal civilians.

“Yeah... I've been thinking about being a practitioner nurse.”

“You've been doing some research on the subject then.” Wonder Woman raises an eyebrow.

“Yes. They can diagnose diseases, initiate treatments, and prescribe medications. They're more independent.” Shrugging your shoulders, you lean closer to Bruce. “But I don't know. Maybe we should keep looking into the other options.” Pretending you're not insecure is useless. Building a life is both exciting and terrifying.

“No. I guess we found what you want to do.” Bruce says and kisses your cheek. You bite back a smile, but it escapes anyway. “Anything as long as you're happy.”

“I can die in peace now,” Arthur says, and everyone turns their heads to look at him. He simply gestures at you and Bruce as if it would explain everything. “I lived enough to see Batman being soft with someone. The rest of my life will be dull.”

It took long enough for the funny comments to start. “Let the man be, Arthur. Everyone softens when they find love.” Diana adds.

“Aren't you a little too young to be dating Bruce actually?” Barry asks, shrugging his shoulders. “Just-just saying.”

“I haven't really thought about that,” you say.

“I have,” Bruce admits.

“Obviously. In this relationship you're the morals part.” You start gathering the sheets of paper, making a small pile. “I'm the impulse part.”

“Impulse part?”

“I did kiss you out of impulse. I was trying to control myself for quite a while but the thought of another suicide mission finally made me give in.” Looking at him, you smirk. “What would you do if I didn't kiss you before the mission? Were you planning to tell me about your feelings?”

“Shouldn't we discuss that in private?” He raises an eyebrow, and you give the guys a glance before looking back at Bruce.

“We don't mind. Go on.” Barry mutters, getting an annoyed stare from Diana.

“Let's give them some time." She says before getting up. The others soon follow, but Barry is the last.

“The fast one seems very curious about Batman's love life,” you say in a sassy tone when you're left alone.

“He turned the mission in Washington a nightmare the moment I mentioned you.” Bruce moves closer, caressing your cheek.

“And how was that?”

“I told them we had to make it as quick as possible because I had someone to go back to.” He places a soft kiss on your lips and you can't help but smile. You can't believe that someone was you. “Then he just wouldn't let it go. And yes, I was planning on telling you how I felt.”

“What would you do if the feeling wasn't mutual?” Wrapping your arms around his neck, you move to sit on his lap.

“I was pretty sure you felt something for me.”

“Really? I was trying so hard to hide it.”

“Miss Quinzel. Master Bruce. Dinner is served.” Alfred announces and you're just about to stand up when Bruce lifts you up with him.

“Because that will make Barry stop sassing at you,” you tell him, not even bothering to ask him to put you down. He can carry you all the way he wants. It feels funny though, and good to float like this. But the best part is how close your faces are, so you take the chance to kiss him as he takes you to the dining room.

Dinner goes on very well. The chattering is constant, and you manage to get into the conversations. You do feel like you're getting along with the League. Maybe you'll do well with other people too. If you can deal with the supers, you can deal with regular humans. It gives you hope, makes you a little more excited to go out. For dessert, you have brownies, one of your favorites, with vanilla ice cream.

“(Y/N), you said something about a suicide mission?” Barry asks after Diana gives you more details about the Washington mission. “What was that about?”

“Yeah... It was a terrorist attack in New Mexico. They mounted a base there but we never knew their plans.”

“They send you in a mission completely in the dark?” Diana furrows her eyebrows.

“We're the Suicide Squad. Well, that's what we call ourselves. The official name is Task Force X.” You move in the chair a little, but you notice you're not as uncomfortable as you were before talking about it. Bruce says you have to accept who you were in order to be free to restart. Trying to ignore it will only allow the past to haunt you. “When the soldiers can't deal with it but it's still not bad enough to call the heroes, they send us. The whole point is that it doesn't matter if we die in the process. The order is to finish the mission. We're... Spendable.”

“I never heard of anything like that,” Clark says, shrugging his shoulders.

“Nobody is supposed to know. But it doesn't matter anymore. The mission was a success and I'd be fine with it if the guards didn't beat me up on my way back here.” You say it without really noticing what it means, but by the way they exchange glances with each other, there are questions in their heads. “Some of them knew me from Belle Reve. So they knew I was going back somewhere they wouldn't be able to punish me for my crimes. They said it was a taste from home.”

“Everyone who was in that van was fired.” Bruce's voice is heavy with anger. “And I doubt they'll get any other job in Gotham.”

“If you're in prison to pay for your crimes, why did they beat you? Isn't the confinement the punishment?” Barry raises his eyebrows, and Arthur nods.

“Uhm... Yes. In any other prison, yes. But Belle Reve is different. It's like we're not on Earth anymore they... They can do pretty much anything they want. Every man and woman who acts as our guards are military or ex-military. Soldiers... And they have so much hate for us.” The memories come back in flashes of lightning, flooding your mind. The pain is still a vivid dream, the darkness is still terrorizing. “I can only speak for myself but I'm sure almost everyone who gets there tries to fight, to run away. I did. And maybe... Maybe I deserved it, maybe what they did was right.”

“(Y/N), don't you think for a second that you deserved what they did to you. Just because someone is a criminal doesn't give them the reason to treat you like an animal.” Bruce takes your hand over the table, and you smile to feel his fingers brushing against the soft skin of the back on your hand.

“They don't treat animals like they treat us.” The acknowledgment is dark and heavy, and you feel as the atmosphere gets tense. The League seems uncomfortable, perplexed.

“What the hell happens in that place?” Diana is the first to speak up after several seconds of deep silence.

“I can only tell what happened to me. By the rumors, it depends on who we are. Killercroc, for example, is left alone in a hole on the ground. Me... I always fought back.” Taking a deep breath, you revisit the endless days you spent in hell. The longest year of your life. The terror was usually suffocated by anger, burning rage, but it was always there, creeping through the walls. “I was kept in the dark. The only light source came from the small gap under the door. It had a blueish glow. My cell was open three times a day, at 10 a.m., 04 p.m., and 08 p.m. The two first were to feed me. They put a straw through my nose all the way down to my throat and fed me with some kind yogurt.” You cringe at the memory, a shiver rolling down your spine. “The last one was the shower. If you can call that a shower... They made me take my clothes off and back up into a concrete wall and blast me with water from a hose. If the weather was hot, the water was ice cold... If it was cold, the water was so hot that it burned my skin.” As you speak, Bruce moves his chair closer to you, putting an arm around your shoulders.

“You don't have to tell us anything if it makes you feel uncomfortable,” Clark says in a low voice.

“No, it's ok... It's good to say it. To... Let it out.” Holding it inside has only screwed you up over and over again. Dealing with it alone has isolated you. And you don't want to be alone anymore. “Before or after the shower was usually when the beat me. Men, women... They didn't really mind if they were a 6ft tall man kicking me. The drugs, the... Several different kids of drugs they gave me numbed the pain, but it was worse, at least to me.” The tears are rolling down now, as you're looking at the table, holding Bruce's hand as if he's your anchor. “I knew my body was being broken, sliced, bones being fractured but I only felt the impact. It's a psychological torture they play alongside the physical one. They liked to know that I was feeling my body being hurt, but I could never feel it... The drugs never wore off, so they never treated to my wounds. I was always left there, in my cell, as the blood dried, as the darkness threatened to suffocate me but I always told myself I was Havoc. I was freaking Havoc and I did not only deserve that, but I also could deal with it. That I was used to the pain...”

“Alright, that's enough.” Bruce raises his voice, and you notice you were yelling. He pulls you close and you hide your face in the crook of his neck.

“I speak for everyone here when I say we're very sorry for everything you've been through,” Diana says, and you feel a hand on your shoulder. When you look up, you see that not only her but all the others are standing around you and Bruce. “And I'm sorry I brought up such terrible memories.”

“Thank you.” Your voice sounds terribly weak, and Bruce dries off some of the tears with his thumb. When you get up, Diana holds both your hands on hers.

“I want you to know that you have me now. To talk, to ask for help, anything.” Your eyes quickly fly through the others when they nod.

“More than Bruce's friend, you're our friend now,” Arthur says.

“So now you not only have friends but superfriends.” Barry steps ahead and pulls you into a hug. You're surprised at the sudden affection, but it feels nice. The others join you soon, and you're in the middle of a group hug.

Not for a single moment in your life you thought you'd ever had anything like this. “Guys, you know you don't have to do this,” you mutter because you can't help but think you don't deserve it, that you're not the victim. Guess you still have a lot to work on, and Bruce is right to still give you some therapy sessions.

“Of course we do. You're an incredible woman who overcame so much. And you truly seem to want to leave the past behind.”

“Clark's right. You're the proof that villains aren't too far beyond repair.” Arthur says with a smile.

“Thanks again.” You're blushing a little because you think they see you as more than what you are now. But it's good to know they believe you.

An hour later, you're on Bruce's bedroom, getting ready to sleep. You're reading about Gotham's University as Bruce brushes his teeth, getting a little confused by how complicated it seems to be accepted there.

“Bruce, all these papers... I don't know if I have them.” You complain, suddenly losing hope.

“I'll deal with them, don't worry.” He comes to the bed, sitting beside you and resting his back against the pillowy headrest. “Worry about studying.”

“And about the fact I'll be surrounded by people all the time.” You sigh, putting the tablet on the nightstand. “It's still confusing, you know. Terrifying sometimes.” You're used to making people fear you, and when that's not possible, they just hate you. Hurt you. You're not sure how you'd manage to stay in between. To be normal.

“The classes only start next semester, so you'll have some months to get used to people.” Bruce pulls you to lie down, and you lay your head on his chest. “Tomorrow we're going out.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Yes. We'll walk around, buy you some new clothes, eat at a nice restaurant...” He caresses your hair, making it hard to keep your eyes open. “I'll be right there with you, so no need to get anxious.”

“Okay...” Noticing you're a little thirsty, you roll your eyes as you get up. “I need water. Do you want some?”

“No, thanks.”

“I'll be right back.” Crawling out of the bed, you make your way downstairs, straight to the kitchen. You hear low voices, so you walk slower, making sure you won't interrupt anything. When you get there, you see it's Diana and Barry, who's eating your ice cream. “Hey, guys,” you announce yourself.

“Hi, (Y/N),” Diana says as Barry waves with the spoon.

“You know this ice cream is mine, right?” Raising an eyebrow, you try to look mad. It apparently works because he gives an apologetic look and lowers the spoon.

“Sorry.” He mutters as you walk around the island, getting a spoon for yourself, sitting beside him and starting to eat too.

“Relax. It seems that I have to share now.” You keep the sarcastic tone, but Barry still doesn't seem to understand. “I'm joking. You can eat it, it's just ice cream.” You smile when he starts eating again. “Don't you want some, Diana?”

“No, thank you.” She raises the mug she's holding. “I usually just drink some tea before going to sleep.”

“Yeah. I just eat. I need a lot of calories.” Barry says with his mouth full of ice cream. “What about you?”

“Actually I just came to get some water. Bruce is waiting for me upstairs.” You forgot about the water, but now you feel thirsty again, so you get a glass and head to the fridge.

“You guys sleep together?” He asks.

“Barry.” Diana reprimands him, and that makes you giggle a little.

“We share the bed.” Shrugging your shoulders, you speak as you pour some cold water on the glass, closing the fridge and making your way back to where you were seated. “I have... Nightmares. They were more often before, but they still come. But when I'm with Bruce it's just... It's better.” You feel safe, secure, but you're too shy to tell them that. It's too much that you're telling about the nightmares, but it's a good sign that you're able to open up, even if it's just a little bit.

“You love Bruce, don't you?” Diana asks in a low voice.

Looking down at your half-full glass of water, you nod. Love isn't the word you use to express your feelings for Bruce, but that's just because you're way too scared to let those three words flow out. ‘I love you.’ You've been biting your tongue for quite a while now. Those words hold power, you know it, and you're scared that he doesn't feel the same way. “Don't tell him,” you beg, looking up at Diana.

“Why?” As she asks, Barry takes the ice cream and gets up, leaving the kitchen.

“Girl talk.” He mumbles on his way out. And yes, you feel a little more comfortable knowing it's just Diana.

“Because maybe it's too soon and... If he doesn't feel the same I'm afraid it'll push him away.” Your feelings for Bruce only grow, and even though being in love with someone is something new, you know how things should play out. Or you think you do. The fact that he's Batman and you're Havoc, a villain he tried to catch before, only makes everything worse.

“I know Bruce. He would never officialize a relationship if he wasn't one hundred and ten percent sure of his feelings.” She moves from her place at the table to seat across from you on the island. “And I understand that what you did before may get in the way but it only makes me even more sure about his feelings towards you. So yes, I think he loves you and there's no reason for you to be so scared.”

Taking a deep breath, you try to accept that. “How could he love me?” You inquire in a low voice because you can't help but go back, to remember who you were and what you did. You do regret it, and you do want different things now, to have a whole new life. But... Sometimes the fear of losing Bruce hits hard, and you start going back to your shell.

“Why don't you let me answer that?” His voice makes you jump, and you stand up abruptly. Your heart beats so fast that you can hear it on your ears, like drums.

“I'll get some sleep. Good night, (Y/N). Bruce.” Diana stands up and leaves the kitchen, as you stand there, looking at Bruce.

“You weren't supposed to hear any of that,” you mumble.

“But I'm glad I did. Let's head upstairs. We need to talk.” Nodding, you start following Bruce. “I need to make things clear with you, sweetheart.”

@fionanovasleftnut @glitterypinkkitty @mybabyboytony @chipster-21 @agustdpeach @yaakimoon2 @chloe-skywalker

#bruce wayne #imagine bruce wayne #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne x reader #ben affleck batman #batman x reader #batman imagine #imagine batman #justice league imagine

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alisinchainmail · 3 years

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More from the crossover fanfic no one asked for but everyone's getting...

Kylo + Quinn: The Last Harlequin: Ch. 1.2

[Gif sources: Part 1, Part 2]

Writers' favorite excerpt from Kylo + Quinn Chapter 1.2 of The Last Harlequin:

He exhales sharply through his nose and straightens. "My Knights of Ren detected you in our no fly zone. You didn't respond to our warnings we sent, so we mistook you for a threat."

She rolls her eyes, annoyed at the jab. "I guess I'm going to have to forgive you and your little Space Knights of Ni for not knowing who I am..." She does a flashy roundoff back handspring and flips over him so she's between him and her bat. "Harley Quinn, nice to meet ya." She extends her now uncuffed hand to the dark knight.

Overcompensating with stillness to hide that he's impressed with the stunt from an Earth girl, he looks down his nose at her hand. "Kylo Ren," he says quietly, giving her the decency of a reply.

Harley withdraws her hand, slightly offended he still doesn't seem to have heard of her, "Never heard of me? The Cupid of Crime? The Maiden of Mischief? Princess... of Darkness." She trails off on that last one, unsure if she recently lost that title. "Formerly..." she corrects it quickly.

Kylo plays her game, "Leader of the Knights of Ren, Champion of the First Order, and Apprentice to Supreme Leader Snoke." He takes a step towards her, towering over her. She tilts her head acknowledging she has no idea what any of that really means, either.

"You're not part of the Resistance," he states more than asks. "However, the vehicle you stole has connections to the Rebellion. How?"

Clearly there's a lot of space politics that is not public knowledge on Earth. Why would Bruce Wayne be involved in space wars? He's probably friends with that Elon Muskrat. He's pretty sus with all that Space X shit.

She responds innocently, "Look, I just saw the thing in some local billionaire's driveway, and thought, 'Why not go for a joy ride?'" Kylo steps closer studying her expressions. Harley squints, "What?!"

Kylo shakes his head, "The Empire has no use for you then. We'll decide what to do with you, or what remains of you, when we're done searching the vehicle."

Harley squints at him, gathering a pretty clear psychological profile from that golden threat of a response, his list of self-important titles, and his demeanor. It all screams of daddy issues.

If he wanted to kill her, he would've done it already. Is he her enemy or a potential new ally? How far can she push this guy before she finds out the hard way?

She smirks and fires off, "So...you're building a crown-rule empire because daddy kicked you out. And you think this is a big fuck you, but in actuality it's a very misguided attempt to win back his respect." Kylo grips his helmet, and narrows his eyes at her.

Harley slowly steps back towards her bat, she looks at his mask grinning, "Daddy wanted a son, so now he has to hide behind a mask...I get it!" Kylo slams his helmet down on a sidetable next to him. This was too easy!

Harley continues, "Awh it's ok! I bet your mom still loves you. Mom's usually do... if they have the time to notice you through your desperate attention-seeking behavior." He looks in shock.

She's really hitting a nerve with this guy. How is he so easy to read? "Or maybe you're trying to destroy the very thing that distracted her from you in the first place. Classic only child syndrome. She's part of this rebellion thing isn't she? Gotta love a rebel girl." Kylo lurches at her.

Harley lunges for the bat, but Kylo quickly raises his hand at it, sending it flying across the room. Harley looks at her empty hand, then across the room where it landed. What is he? Some sort of space wizard?

Harley shakes off her confusion, "Won't let me play with your toys? What would I expect from an only child with deep-seated father issues?"

Kylo yells, "Stop...TALKING," as he grabs at Harley. She dodges. Time to go all in.

"Tell me, what did dear old dad do to you? Or was it someone else? Got an uncle who paid some unnecessary visits to your bedside when mommy and daddy were away?"

Kylo clenches his fist and rolls his eyes. That was a hit. Harley taunts, "Awwhhh did I sink your battleship?"

"ENOUGH," he roars, grabbing a handle from his hilt and firing out a massive red flaming greatsword.

Harley stares at the new weapon in disbelief. "Come on! Lazer swords?! At least let me use my dinky baseball bat. I'm Little League compared to that!"

Co-Writer's (Brian) Notes:

I love this as an introduction to their relationship. Harley always has to get the last word in and Kylo is always struggling to keep his composure. Both their characteristics make them butt heads, and also is why they work.

They’re always gonna have a back forth with their personalities. A yin and yang basically where he’ll constantly try and stay level and she’ll try to trip him up.

Writer's (Alisin) Notes:

I like this part of the scene for their chaotic, impulsive energy playing off each other in different ways. Also for her first exposure to the world of Star Wars, which her inexperience with the world helps me get away with the fact I still haven't seen all of the Star Wars franchise yet and am newer to the fandom. We're sort of figuring out the world together.

I wanted them to be fairly evenly matched, which — much like with Rey— is Kylo's first experience with someone on equal ground like that, so it throws him off at first.

Harley is skilled with getting in people's heads from a psychoanalytical standpoint, whereas Kylo uses more of a brute force approach later in the scene. Luke criticized the way the Knights of Ren use the dark side of the force as being unskilled "like a hammer". I bring that characterization into Kylo.

Kylo wields his emotions and fighting style with a lot of intensity rather than precision and agility. In spite of his bloodline making him a more powerful force wielder, he can be quite clumsy with it. As though his power is greater than himself and the conflict he carries disrupts his clarity in his actions, while also fueling the power of the dark side through his raw emotion.

With Harley, I like to keep her dancing in between both, since as a character she is more morally gray.

Her weapons of choice are sometimes literal hammers but her fighting style and wit can be very fluid and agile, similar to the fighting styles of those who utilize the light side of the force. Her actions are impulsive, but not clouded in self-judgements. Without the Joker's influence, she knows herself well enough to have some faith that her impulses are in alignment with her fluid morality.

And to bring it all back ti Brian's point:

Kylo is brute force like Harley’s weapon and she’s skilled and precise like a sword, his weapon. Neither will admit it but both could run into situations where the others methods work better. Harley has been forced to be chaotic in her approach for so long she’s sort of rebelling against it in her style. Kylo has been wielding the force like a hammer for so long that everything looks like a nail. This further adds to their yin and yang relationship dynamic and how they’ll be able to survive by adapting the others' strengths when they need them.

[GIF Source: Part 1, Part 2]

Check out the full chapter on Wattpad: The Last Harlequin. For mature audiences only.

Kylo and Harley's first meeting was originally going to be more simple, but then it just took a life of its own. This whole chapter was originally 4 parts for the Tiktok series, and now it's pushing 16 on Wattpad...and I'm still not done writing it. I have a drug trip scene in the works where they take an intense hallucinogen called Jabbawaska. Yes, this is how ridiculous the Wattpad gets. They're fun characters to write for and it's interesting to see how they bring new characteristics out of each other.

Episodes are currently being posted daily on Tiktok: @KyloQuinnCrossover. Chapter 1 exists in full on YouTube.

Part 1: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMePNHnKH/

Part 2: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMePNAJAE/

Part 3: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMePNGWTx/

Part 4: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMePNGwEn/

Ch.1.10 WP Promo: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMePN4pAy/

Ch.1.11 WP Promo: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMePNPmUS/

Ch.1.12 WP Promo: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMePNsnY7/

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haddonfieldproject · 6 years

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1.1.7. Halloween Night 10:33pm

7️⃣

<<PREVIOUS⏺<<CONTENTS>>

Haddonfield, Illinois

After having been rejected by Dylan Rawls and, by association, little Maddie Keane, Cammie Cornell had wandered outside, descending the brick steps, and walking the twenty yards or so of paver stones to the gated end of the driveway. There she had clutched the iron bars and stared out at the corner of Orange Avenue and Matthew Street, where the gothic spires of the Comforter of Sorrows Roman Catholic Church dominated the what little remained of the sky behind a twisted net of oak tree limbs that obscured most of the soft orange light from the streetlight and further shadowed the street in the dark.

The last remnants of Trick or Treaters hustled about, most of them teenagers, too old to be out trick or treating anyway. Two young girls, one dressed as Catwoman and another as the Joker's girlfriend Harley Quinn stopped to take a selfie together in front of the church and then ran away giggling. Movement stirred among Cammie's legs, startling her. She looked down and saw a black cat, it's tail sticking straight up, rubbing it's head along her shins. The cat looked up with bright green eyes and gave an almost soundless “Meow”, beckoning Cammie to pet it's head, which she bent to oblige, but was startled again, this time by a thunder clap. The sky lit up in greenish lightning and Cammie took off running back toward the house.

As she ascended the top of the stairs, she looked back. The cat was still there at the end of the driveway, looking back at her with a mix of curiosity and distain. Cammie adjusted the bumblebee attenae on the top of her head and gripped the door handle to go back inside.

It was locked.

She knocked three times on the door hard and then found the doorbell and pushed it.

The home theater inside Ellen Rawks aka Misty Dawn's house was pretty much soundproof. And even if it wasn't, the action packed sounds of Ripe Blood was sure to block any sounds coming from outside of the room. Chelsea held a bag of popcorn in her lap, chewing exhurbantly while some poor sap on the big screen was having his intestine devours by a crowd of the recently undead. Behind her, Penny had her head buried in Josh's lap, who watched with mild interest. His mind was really on the fact that, even though Penny was trying to divert her attention away from the movie screen, she was giving his crotch her full attention with her hand down his pants.

Down the hallway, Maddie and Dylan sat on two blue beanbags with Nintendo controllers in their hands playing Mario Kart. The volume coming out of the 30 inch flatscreen before them was borderline deafening, but still, Dylan thought he heard something. He abuptly hit pause and turned to the little girl next to him.

“Did you hear something?”

Her little brown eyes were wide. She shook her head.

He waited for a moment, and then hit the pause button again and they resumed racing.

“You'll never catch me!” He called.

“Yes I will!” She giggled.

Cammie had given up and started down the paver path along the side of the home, passed a few large windows with blinds closed, another made of glass blocks and dark, and then around some tall holly bushes. She came to a low gate, pushed it open, and passed two hulking air conditioning units, a short and fat generator, and the pool pumps before rounding the corner. The pool house lay before her, along with the swimming pool itself.

I could totally go for a swim, she thought, wiping sweat from her brow. Her costume was hot, and it literally felt like summer outside. She daydreamed breifly about stripping down to her panties and driving in when thunder boomed again, forcing her to abandon such thoughts and scurry along to the sliding glass doors along the back of the house. She gripped the handle on the first one she came to and pulled to the right. It slid open with ease and a blast of cool air hit her face and she sighed.

The doors opened into a little parlor, something her mother called a “Florida Room”. In front of her, beyond another sliding glass door was the living room, with the kitchen and dining room beyond that. There was a side door on either side of her though.

I wonder where these go to? She thought, and padded across the little space, around a large potted plant and wicker set of chairs and endtables. She gripped and opened it.

It was a bathroom.

A “half bath”, as her mother would say, to be exact.

Well, that's no fun. She smiled to herself, shutting the door behind her. She bypassed the furniture and plant in the middle of the room and stepped over to the door on the other side.

This opened into a long hallway. It was dark, there were two doors on each side and one at the end of the hall. All of the doors were shut except the second door on the left, this was cracked and there was a soft and shifting light coming from the room.

It's a TV, she knew.

Someone was either watching TV or had left the TV on in that room.

She shut the door behind her and cautiously stepped toward the open door near the end of the hall.

As she grew closer, she began to hear the audio.

“Bottom of the eighth and the Cubs have one man on. Leo Nelson, the switch hitter at the plate, looking to drive in a run for the Northsiders.”

She peaked into the open doorway and saw what she had figured all along.

Baseball.

There was a baseball game on a television that sat on a small table at the end of the room. Opposite the TV, sitting in a wheelchair, and staring at the screen with icy blue eyes was an elderly man in a white shirt and plaid pajama pants. He had tubes in his nose that ran down along behind his back and into a green tank on the floor beside him with red letters that read: OXYGEN.

Cammie smiled and spoke up.

“Hello.” She said.

The man didn't react. He didn't even turn his head.

Cammie tried again.

No reaction.

Cammie frowned.

There was a small black cloth office chair beside the wheelchair. Silently, she allowed herself into the room and sat down next to the old man. The chair squeaked and swiveled as her little body, clad in a bumble bee costume plopped into it. Cammie folded her hands in her lap and faced the television.

“Here's the pitch, and a swing, and Nelson fouls it off, Oh and one.”

Maddie put the controller down.

“I don't want to play Wii anymore.” She said.

Dylan shrugged. “What do you wanna do then?”

“I don't know.” Maddie said.

“Wanna see my birds?” He asked.

Her big brown eyes shone bright.

“Okay!” She said.

She followed the older boy out of the playroom and to the next room, his bedroom.

On the right side of the room was a large wooden frame waterbed with a heavy looking mahogany bookshelf attached to the back as a headboard. This was full of comic books. There was a dresser centered on the far wall, along with a bookshelf on one side and a small writing desk on the other. On the left side, dominating the wall, was a very large white bird cage. Maddie didn't notice hardly any of this however at first. The first thing she noticed was the smell.

She gripped her nose. “Something stinks!” She said nasally.

Dylan blushed. “I know. I haven't cleaned their cages yet today. And I think I forgot yesterday too.” He looked down at his feet. “Maybe the day before, I don't know...I can be bad with cleaning up their poop.”

He padded across the room and grabbed an aerosol can from off the top of the dresser. STINK-AWAY DEODARIZER, the label read. He sprayed it in an arc above his head, squinting. Then he took a deep breath.

“There,” he said smiling, “smell now. Does it still stink?”

The little girl let go of her nose and took a big whiff. It still smelled bad, but now that bad smell was covered a little by a good smell. It was bareable.

She nodded. She didn't like to hurt people's feelings.

Maddie approached the cage.

“That green one is a Parakeet, and those two black ones with the orange bills are called Mynas.” Dylan said, pointing toward the cage.

“What's the white one, it's pretty?” Asked Maddie.

“Rawwrk Pretty!” The Parakeet, perched on an artificial branch in the corner of the cage squawked.

“Oh it can talk!” Maddie exclaimed.

“Yes,” Dylan nodded, “That white one is a cockatoo.”

“That's a funny name!” Maddie laughed.

“I have treats you can give them.” Dylan smiled.

“Okay!”

Dylan opened the writing desk and pulled out a small red bag.

KAYTEE FIESTA, the white letters on the front said.

“This is dried fruit,” Dylan said, “They love this stuff. I just got a new package from Amazon the other day, I haven't opened it yet.”

He pulled out a small blue pocket knife, unfolded the blade, and slashed the top of the bag. “You can throw it at them and they'll catch it out of midair.”

“Neat!” Maddie exclaimed.

They took turns throwing the little treats to the birds. Every time one of the little creatures would snap one of the small pieces out of the air with their beaks, Maddie would shriek with joy.

After awhile Dylan closed the bag and set it on the little writing desk next to the still unfolded pocket knife. “No more,” he said, “Too many will make them sick and then there will be more poop for me to clean.”

The little girl wrinkled her nose. “Eww.” She said and then her attention focused on something on the dresser behind her. “What is that?” She asked.

Dylan turned behind him and saw what she was looking at.

“That's a cannon ball!” He said, pulling it off the top of the dresser toward him. He took a step back under it's weight and bumped into the birdcage, rattling the thin wire frame of the cage.

“Rawrk cannon ball!” One of the birds shrieked.

“A what?” Maddie asked.

He put it into her arms. “We went on a class trip to Joliet last October to see the Civil War reinactment. I guessed how many gumdrops were in the glass mason jar and the grand prize was a real live cannon ball. It was 616!”

The cords in Maddie's neck were sticking out and her face flushed. “It's heavy!” She groaned.

“Oh yeah, sorry!” Dylan said and took the cannon ball from her.

“Thanks.” She sighed.

He set the large black sphere back on the dresser.

“My mom also got me some Confederate money, look!”

He pulled some yellow bills from off the top of the dresser, along with some coins.

“That doesn't look like money,” she said, looking at a fascimile of a bank note from Tennessee.

“Well it isn't like the money we have now, and look at the coins!” He held out his hand and some of the coins he was presenting teetered and fell to the carpet. Maddie bent to retrieve it.

“Oh crap!” Dylan said and bent as well, but he was too close to the dresser. His butt struck the drawers and he bounced off. The cannon ball on the top of the dresser began to roll, dropping over the lip of the front of the piece of furniture and right down on the back of the little girl's head with a sickening thud.

Her tiny legs went limp immediately and her face hit the carpet, her arms, having nowhere else to go, crumpled under her little torso. The cannon ball bounced once with a muffled THUMP on the rug and rolled in front of Dylan's feet. He froze, still holding the fake money in one hand, mouth wide.

Lightning struck outside.

It roused him.

He dropped the money and bent down next to the little girl.

“Maddie?” He called her name and pulled her over unto her back.

Oh no! I'm gonna be in so much trouble. He thought.

Her eyes were half open, as was her mouth.

“Maddie!” He called again.

A gurgling sound came from her mouth and little right leg began to spasm.

“It's okay Maddie,” he soothed, rubbing her shoulders. “It's gonna be okay, you're gonna be fine.”

Her left leg began to spasm as well.

“Come on Maddie, snap out of it. You'll be fine, just lay still.” He coaxed.

A little bit of white spittle began to gather at the corner of her mouth.

“Lay still Maddie it's okay!” He urged.

Her whole body was convulsing now, and her eyes upturned until all he saw was white.

“STOP IT MADDIE!” He cried, tears welling up in his eyes.

Her tiny fragile body lurched and heaved.

“LAY STILL I SAID!” He screamed and in one swoop grabbed the pocket knife from on top of the desk.

He brought it down on her.

She continued to convulse.

“STOP MOVING!” He screamed, and brought the knife down again.

He lifted it.

Then brought it down again.

And again.

NEXT>>

#horror #scary #scary story #horror story #horror movie #horror film #halloween #halloween franchise #halloween movie #halloween film #michael myers #the shape #haddonfield #novel #writing #horror novel #horror series #horror movies

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imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 4 years

Text

Dangerous Love (Pt. 02 of 13)

Pairing: Bruce Wayne (Batman) X Harley Quinn's sister!Reader

Word count: 2.9K

<- Previous part (01)

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{Justice League - DC Masterlist}

Confessions:

You're up when Bruce comes, a tray in his hand, resting your back against the headboard, playing with your hair.

“Aren't you scared?” You ask him as he locks the door and puts the keys in his pocket.

“Scared of what? You?”

“Of the information I have now. Do you have any idea how many people would pay me to know who's the man behind the bat's mask?” As you speak, Bruce puts the tray on the nightstand. A sandwich and orange juice. You can't remember the last time you ate something so... Normal.

“What? Don't you like orange juice?”

“No, I...” The memories fill your head, like a flood. Tied up to the bed, people hovering over you. But you push it all back. You're a criminal, as dangerous as the Joker or Harley, your beloved sister. You're used to such treatments, and you don't care. “Won't you put all of it in a blender, then feed it to me through a straw? Put it on my nose and push it all the way down to my stomach.” You can't help but laugh at Bruce's face. Disgust, perplexity. “Oh, chill. That's nothing I can't deal with.”

“Haven't you noticed it yet? That I won't hurt you? Or treat you like an animal?”

“Well, you are keeping me here. Against my will. A golden prison is still a prison.” You're trying not to let the food get your attention, but you're starving. And the fact that it's real food makes it even harder.

“I'm only keeping you here because I know that if I set you free, you'll go back to your old life. And will probably end up in Belle Reve again.” Bruce gestures at the tray. “Eat, please.”

“If you ask so nicely.” Taking the tray, you place it on your lap, leaving the glass on the nightstand. Controlling yourself, you take a small bite, trying not to let it show how good it tastes. It feels weird to chew again, almost unnatural.

“I have to say a few things, so pay attention.” Bruce starts, eyes on you. “I'm aware they had you... Sedated... in Belle Reve. And from now on you won't be taking anything else then what I judge necessary. So you'll feel the reactions of the detoxification.”

“I will need painkillers. Heavy stuff.” You tell him in between bites.

“Are you hurt?”

Laying half of the sandwich down, you put the tray away, getting on your knees. “Wanna see how's the skin of a Belle Reve's intern?” Smiling, you lift your shirt, showing him your belly, stomach and ribs. You look down too, eyes observing the pattern of purple bruises, all over your skin. When you look at Bruce again, you don't understand the his expression. It looks like he cares, but there is no reason for him to do so. He's a hero, and you're the villain, his only job is to put you down. He's not supposed to care. “Don't look so surprised, Bruce. I'm used to it. I'm constantly high, so the pain is distant, numbed. Without what they give me... It will hurt.”

“Finish your sandwich.” He simply says, looking away and pacing around.

You decide to obey him just because it does taste good. The juice too. When you're done, you lay the tray back on the nightstand. “So... What now?”

He seems troubled, nervous. “Come and sit here.” He gestures at the armchair. Rolling your eyes, you do as he says. He's seated before you, and you feel like you're in a therapy session.

“May the interrogation begin,” you mutter, crossing your legs and arms.

“I want you to be honest. I just want to understand you.”

“What do you think you can get from that?” Shrugging your shoulders, you lean forward. You try to read him, to understand why is he doing this. Then you remember that he wants to prove a point. “Oh, I just remembered. I'm your project. Your lab rat.” What else could you be in the house of one of the heroes?

“Wouldn't you like to be able to have a normal life? A job you like, your own place, coming and going as you please?”

“I had all that before being thrown into hell on Earth.” As you speak, you feel your head spinning. Is it the detox working on already? You feel a fog in the back of your mind, and you feel your muscles relaxing. Taking a deep breath, you run a hand through your hair. This is not detoxification, this is something else. “What did you gave me?”

“Just something to make you tell me the truth.”

Laughing, you bite your lip. “You're amazing, I have to say.” Your mind is slower, you feel it. You wonder if your body is slower too, or if you could try to escape again. But Bruce is on high alert, you can see it. His eyes never leave you, watching your every move.

“How was your life? Childhood.”

“I know you read my files, Bruce Wayne. Ask something you don't know.” You hate feeling numb. Hugging your knees, you close your eyes shut, trying to shake away the feeling.

“I want to hear it from you.” His voice is distant, like an echo. Is it too much to ask to be left alone? To be awake, fully in control of yourself, your words and feelings... “I'm just trying to help you, and to do that, I need you to be honest. And since I didn't know if you'd cooperate, I had to give you-”

“You're only giving me what you judge necessary, right?” You hiss, face hidden on your knees. “Ask away, Batman. My life is an open book to you and to anyone who thinks to be better than me just because they have the upper hand.”

“Both my parents were killed in front of me when I was a kid.” Bruce bursts out, and it makes you look at him immediately. “I saw their dead bodies, the blood... That night is still a vivid memory, it never leaves me.”

You don't know what he expects you to say. You don't have good memories with your parents to say that you know how he feels. “Bad mother. Dead father, never met him. Harley left home early so I was left alone to deal with a drug addict mother. High School was nice, but that was when I started going out with Harley. Late night parties, dangerous people. I started to learn things, to enjoy those things... Then I knew I wanted that life. It was easy money, easy fun, and people respected me because I was under Harley's protection and she was under the Joker's protection.” It comes out, it doesn't matter if you want it or not. “The story of my life.”

“In the first two years of High School, your grades were high. In senior year, they started to drop. Was that because of your sister?”

“Yeah. I just wanted it to be over, and when I managed to graduate, I left home to be with Harley. But soon enough I built my own place, my own empire, and I didn't need her anymore.” This thing he gave you really works because you're not saying the words you want to.

“Why did you enjoy doing what your sister did?”

“It was so fun... So... Dangerous. The adrenaline is addicting and I never really... I never really...” You bite your tongue, holding it back. You tell yourself to be strong, to get a grip of reality, that you can beat whatever is affecting your mind.

“You never really what?”

You're breathing fast, wondering how long until this damn drug is out of your system.

“You never really what?" Bruce repeat, his voice soft and low.

“I never really had anything else. Anyone else.” It comes out, fast and heavy. “My father died when I was a baby, my mother was a damn drug dealer who made the mistake of tasting her product and I had to keep the few friends I had away from my messed up life and the only way to do that was to push them the hell away.” You feel dizzy, covering your head with both hands. “The more time I spent with Harley and her crew, the more I learned, the more fearless I became and the more they respect me. They feared me.” Why can't you stop talking? Your body isn't trying to get rid of the drug, but it's still absorbing it, making it run through your veins to fulfill its purpose. “I didn't need their kindness, their love, their affection because I could have their fear. I had them do as I said when I said it because they were scared of me. That's the only thing I know!” You're yelling, leaning forward to face Bruce. “I can't be rehabilitated because I don't even know what it's supposed to be like. People don't care about me and I don't care about them. People don't love me, and I don't love them. People aren't kind to me so I won't ever be kind to them. They only do something for me because I have a gun pointed at their faces or because they know I can snap my fingers and have them hurt. This is who I am! This is the mess, the chaos that I am and you're an idiot if you think you can fix me!”

You don't care anymore. You just need to get the hell out of this place. The key is in his pocket, so you attack him. You aim a punch to his face knowing he'll grab your wrist, and when he does, you use the opening to his stomach to kick him hard. You're thrown away, colliding to the side of the bed, but you don't stop to pay attention to the sharp pain on your side. Bruce is standing up now, but his size doesn't scare you. You've fought men like him before. You're used to have a gun, but being unarmed won't make you step down.

Using all your strength, you push his chest hard, succeeding to place a punch in his jaw. He doesn't move much, but it's enough to give you the opportunity to kick his crotch. But Bruce sees what's coming, kicking your leg away and from under you, what sends you hard to the ground. You lay on your arm, and a sharp pain spreads through your left shoulder. Your body isn't working as it usually does. It's slower, it's hurting... The damn drugs they gave you are wearing off. You need to get out of here before they're out of your system.

When Bruce steps closer, you move up to grab his arm, pulling him down as you kick both his legs with all the strength you still have. He collapses the floor beside you, and you take the chance to punch his face again.

“That's enough.” He yells, grabbing both your wrists with one hand, and a groan escapes your lips when he squeezes them to push them away from his face. You're moving to kick his ribs with your knee, but you're lifted up suddenly. You feel pure agony as you violently try to set free. Bruce uses his free hand to grab your legs and throw you on the bed. You're ready to set in motion again, but you're caught off guard by a wave of pain.

You start counting mentally. This is the second day here. It means three days ago you were in your cell, and you remember them injecting the medication. They still wanted you to sleep. But you also remember the slight discomfort that you started feeling a week ago. As if your body was more awaken then usual. It's not like they don't want you to be in pain, they just want you to keep functional, so you can endure more pain without being motionless in a bed for days.

“How long... How long did you have them reduce my drugs?” You ask him, catching your breath.

“Nine days.” He simply answers, fixing his clothes.

“I need something for the pain.” You touch your left shoulder with the right hand, closing your eyes shut. “Shit.”

“Let me see it.” Bruce comes closer, and you open your eyes to see if he'll try anything. He bends over, pulling the arm away from your body. You wince, biting back a groan. “A subluxation.” He pushes your shoulder back, and you hear a crack before a new wave of pain spreads through your arm.

“What the hell?” You exclaim, pushing him away with the other arm.

“It was just a partial dislocation of the shoulder joint. But it's back on its place now, you will be fine.”

“I thought you said you wouldn't hurt me,” you mumble, breathing fast, still holding your shoulder.

“Are you kidding me? Am I supposed to be let you beat me? Because I know what you're capable of.”

“Are you scared of me? You. Six feet tall, a mountain of muscles. What? Can't you take a beating from me?” He can. “I can take a beating from you, hero. I've been taking beatings for a year now, on a regular basis.” You have to push the memories away before they flood your mind. The numbness from the medication makes it worse since you're awake to feel the hit, but the body isn't. You know it hurts, that it'll hurt later, but you keep being hurt. Over and over again, non stop. “I asked them to stop once, during my first week there. Do you know why they were beating me that day?” You stand on your knees, holding your left arm close to your body. Your stomach burns and you feel tears in your eyes, but you hold them back. Tears won't get you anywhere, anger will.

“Because you attacked someone." Bruce seems so sure of it, that it makes you laugh.

“I demanded a coat. A damn coat because it was cold!” You're yelling, fighting back the tears, laughing instead. “I asked them to stop, big mistake. It only made it worse. From that day on I decided to just take it. To endure it because that's what I deserve.” Lifting your shirt to show him the bruises, you feel one single tear rolling down. “See this? I survived through every single one of these.” Why are you crying? You don't cry. Clenching your fist, you bring it against your ribs hard, and the pain that follows is greater than you expected. You gasp, falling forward.

“Stop it." Bruce takes both your wrists, pushing you to lie down “If you do this again, I'll chain you up.”

“Don't worry about me,” you mutter, smiling. “I can take this.”

“I don't care if you can take this, I don't want you hurting yourself.”

“I don't need to hurt myself, everyone else does it for me.” Your voice is weak, and you look away from him. Bruce let's go of your wrists but doesn't move. He's seated on the bed, right beside you.

“I know it's hard for you to understand it, but as long as you're here, nobody will hurt you. I won't hurt you.”

With a hand on your forehead, you avoid his stare. “If it was the other way around... If I kidnapped and kept you in a room, locked... You'd be scared too. You would know I was going to hurt you.”

“It's true. But I didn't kidnap you.” You feel when he stands up, watching as he pulls the armchairs back to their places. “I choose you because I want to help you. If this works, I might get you a pardon. You would be free.”

“I admire your hope, Bruce Wayne, but you just don't understand. I don't know how to deal with people anymore. The only relationship I know is the ones where I give an order and it is obeyed. Anything other than that doesn't exist. Not for me. I'm a criminal, I meant to be hated.” You're not proud of this, not now. There's a part of you, deep down inside, that wish it could change. If only you could go back in time and change things... But now it's too late. You are who you are, the person you built yourself to be. “Give up. Throw me back into Belle Reve before I get used to nice baths and comfortable beds.”

“I'll see you tonight.” He says before leaving the room, and you sigh to hear the door locking.

You're used to the loneliness. Turning off the lights and closing the curtains, you lay in the darkness. You follow the logic of Belle Reve. Since there's nothing to do, there's no reason to keep the lights on. Darkness is where you belong, they say, then live in it. And so you do.

You have a good notion of the time passing, so you count the minutes, one by one. There's no way to know where you'll be tomorrow, if Bruce will accept the fact that this is stupid and send you back. But maybe it's for the best.

No, you have to focus. An opportunity. This is an opportunity to escape, and you need to take it. You can't let anything else get your attention, or distract you. You have to use this chance to go back home. To the only dirty, cold place you can call that.

@redwolf-7 @glitterypinkkitty @mybabyboytony @chipster-21

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