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ew-selfish-art · 7 months

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Dp x DC AU: Danny didn't want to rely on his rogues, but Tucker's computer skills only got them so far and if the media black out continues... Danny knows it's not going to be pretty for them. Nightmares begin to plague the Justice League.

---

Danny gets back from a shitty conversation with Clockwork and in his frustration, accidentally sets off one of the new GIW sensors that his parents allowed to be installed in the lab. Their collaboration seemed to be going no where but when Danny had new holes blasted through him... it must be going somewhere. Damn it.

The commotion is loud enough that Jazz hears it from her room above the lab (he knows she listens to more than just the lab... it's cause she cares, even if it is a bit invasive.) and rushes in to play the distraction while Danny gets away. This time it works- the Drs. Fenton might have the worst aim in the city but they demand all shots cease if a civilian is nearby- Next time his mom might be aiming her gun at him and not the ground. Danny decides he'll buy Jazz a coffee on his way home.

But first, new holes. Yikes. That like, needs medical attention- He heads to Tucker's place and he's pretty sure Sam is already there.

"Danny! What the fuck, did Clockwork-" She starts, her meticulous cat eyeliner making her glare all the deeper.

"Nah, it's the stupid GIW sensor, the stupid one I told you guys about that has a spring lose in the back?"

"I thought we decided those weren't a concern?" Tucker looks him over, face covered in undisguised and very blatant concern.

"Yeah well, Clocky pissed me off so I forgot about them when I came back in through the lab portal-"

"you were supposed to be practicing making your own." Sam interrupts.

"-And when I did, the thing got knocked and I was swatted like immediately. Jazz launched herself into the lab so Mom made them stop shooting and it gave me enough time to get out." Danny continued to explain, ignoring his friend's 'i told you so' faces.

"Dude. We're pushing it close this week. Sam already had a confrontation with the lab guys and I already got blacklisted on my new persona accounts. We're like seriously threading the needle for getting caught." Tucker, pulls his glasses down to pinch the bridge of his nose and Danny and Sam both get what he's really saying. They need to lie low.

"What did CW say to piss you off?" Sam asks after a silent moment.

"He said nothing really, just like he always does, but insinuated I should try getting a rogue to help." Danny sighs.

"What, Like getting Ember to announce the GIW invasion on her tour? We already agreed that-" Sam is getting angry as she speaks so Tuck cuts her off- "It's a bad Idea. She is- They are all just as likely to get captured and hurt as you are if you go out of town." He comes to the same conclusion they've agreed on for weeks. No rogue involvement.

"Maybe we just need to sleep on it... Hey... wait." Danny sighs, but then his gears start to turn.

"Nocturn. We need Nocturn to help us. He can get the message out through dreams." Danny comes to the new conclusion and his friends look hesitant but at least like they're considering it.

"Isn't he an ancient? He's not going to help us for free." Tucker, ever the Egyptian god in these moments.

"Most people don't take their dreams literally." Sam, ever the skeptic in these moments.

"Yeah but, if they dream it enough times, and they're the right people to do something... they can look it up and then at least see that there is a problem?" Danny sounds hopeful and its the first time he's sounded that way in months.

"What, you're gunna give Batman nightmares?" Tucker snickers but Sam looks inspired.

"That's exactly what he's going to do. We need to haunt the Justice League. They'll see past the fake facade the GIW put up online and they'll be able to get the right legislation passed." Sam is practically buzzing.

"Okay, so lets get scheming- What do you get the primordial beast of the unconscious? Should I google 'what to get someone who has everything'? " Danny laughs.

_____

Bruce and his children rarely do feelings when they have breakfast in the morning after a night of separate patrols, but it seems as though the room is plagued with unease. Tim looks about as tired as ever, so his unease is probably attributable to WE board meetings, but its unlike the rest of his children to be so... disturbed. For some reason, after Alfred has excused them all from eating more than a few nibbles, they make it to the cave. Bruce is glad for the noise his children bring.

The nightmare's he's been having are following a dark plot. A town, a boy who looks like he was kin, and so, so much death. Bruce has had vivid dreams before in life, but this nightmare is... unreal. He tries to remind himself that it's just a nightmare.

When his JL emergency communicator goes off at the computer desk, he's not expecting it to be Dinah Lance. She and her Birds are typically wary of him in Gotham, even if they work well together in the League. He answers it like he would any Batman call, with silence.

"Bats, we have a problem. Any chance you've been having weird dreams about a kid getting experimented on or a town being burned down? Ghosts? Lazarus portals?" Dinah sounds exhausted, but Bruce snaps to her voice with rapt attention. As do all of his children.

"I-" Bruce takes a look around the room, everyone's heads except for Tim's nodding up and down with distress," We all have."

"Something tells me that they whole JL is. Everyone I've talked to this week has had a variation of the same dream. We either have a telepath trying to tell us something, or something even worse than that."

"I'll call emergency meeting, we need to collect details and try to determine the complete message."

"I'll send you what I've noted down so far, sans personal details of course, it's definitely in a town called Amity Park though. My client this morning saw the sign."

Batman grunts and the call ends. It's time to get to work.

----

When the Justice League finally arrives, the town is glowing, and everything feels like... sleep. smothering. snoring. smoking. smoldering.

And then, despite the exhaustion that echos within them, the trudge onwards. The noise of laser guns certainly wakes them up a bit.

#tim hasn't seen shit cause he never sleeps but he has the same energy level to get shit done #dc x dp crossover #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #dc crossover #dp crossover #long post #dinah lance #nocturn haunts the JL #its up to you to get angsty with the demand he made in exchange for helping team phantom #nocturn is such a fun villain concept but like he's an information outlet so...#Lots could go right or wrong with this plan #tim drake x sleep is something i'll never ship tho #fentons working with GIW could be as benign or evil as wanted #is jazz in peril after this??? PERHAPS

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aceofshitposts · 2 years

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Congratulations on the milestone! Might I prompt you with JayTim and identity shenanigans?

you have my deepest apologies for this taking me like three days i kept starting it then either getting distracted (be my robin) or scrapping what i had and starting over lmaoo

Jason doesn't usually get to go to the parties in the city. Rich people have no concept of time and as such a lot of these fancy, non charity or Wayne associated, high society get togethers tended to fall smack in the middle of the week. Which was more than fine with Jason because spending three hours having his cheeks pinched one moment and then having to hear contrite bullshit about his background the next was not his idea of a good time. At least if it was a party hosted at the manor Jason could run off to his room or the cave without having to wait for B.

That being said, the summer masquerade ball wasn't the worst party Jason has ever had to attend. Even if the only actual reason he was here was because Bruce suspected several attendees of illegal activity and needed evidence.

Which leaves Jason sipping a glass of sparkling apple juice, tucked away in a corner by the windows, wearing a fancy handmade leather masquerade mask that'd adorned with intricate gold filigree that Jason doesn't even want to know the price of.

Which is, of course, about when everything decides to go to shit.

Glass blows out from the floor to ceiling windows in a deafening blast, several goons wearing black full face cowls all step inside the threshold, glass crunching beneath their boots. The chaos is immediate, screaming and demands from who must be the Head Goon being made.

Jason briefly considers tackling the goon closest to him as the others disperse throughout the room, he's already in a mask and Bruce always insists on some form of under armour in public but it's not going to be enough to stop a stray bullet at close range. He contemplates a moment too long, the goon spots him beginning to run away and apparently thinks he'll make just a fantastic hostage.

Jason thrashes against the man's hold while keeping an eye on the exit. Bruce would have gone off to change into Batman already, he would be here soon. Even if he scolded Jason for stupidly getting himself caught--

"Let go of him!"

There's a crash, loud and solid. Like one of the decorative vases that were sitting on the tables just shattered. The man holding Jason collapses, his grip loosening enough that Jason quickly is able to slam his elbow into the man's arm and get him to drop his gun. Jason whirls around, kicking the guy squarely in the jaw as he goes, and sees a short kid wearing an overly elaborate blue and black mask, a large blue decorative feather sticking out of the left side.

He meets Jason's eyes, his chest heaving and even behind the shadows of the mask Jason can see the wild look in his eyes, and grins. A quick flash of teeth and then there's a gunshot, a woman's scream and both of them are diving under a nearby table to take cover.

"You gotta get out of here!" The kid whispers urgently, pushing Jason's shoulder.

"Wh- Me? What about you? And what the hell was that, you could've been killed!" Jason says, batting the kid's hands away.

"We don't have time for this!" The kid stresses. "I'll be fine, just go."

Jason has half a mind to wonder why he's so insistent Jason leave but no real time to dwell cause inadvertently, the kid has a point. Jason huffs but crawls out from under the table and makes a beeline towards where he knows Bruce stashed their costumes.

Batman is predictably less than impressed when Robin shows up late. Regardless, between the two of them they're able to round up the offending goons and provide first aid for the injured, thankfully nobody appears to be injured too badly.

Jason looks around the ballroom, hoping to see a flash of a blue feather amongst the people. Where was he? The kid was alright when Jason left, right? Wait, maybe he was still...

Jason runs over to the table, hoping that stupid, gutsy kid was alright and.

There's nobody under the table.

But there is an elaborate mask with a blue feather sticking out the side.

"Robin? What are you doing?" Batman asks as Jason backs out from under the table.

"Everyone was accounted for, right?"

"Yes, why?"

Jason looks down at the mask in his hands, thinking about a gutsy kid grinning at him after nailing a goon in the back of the knees with a vase. God, Jason hoped the kid never pulled something like that again. Even if it had helped him out.

"Eh, I'll tell ya later."

#hi welcome to the vigilante version of cinderella #WILL JASON EVER KNOW??? maybe ;3c #jaytim #250 follower special #astrix writes

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

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Dangerous Love (Pt. 01 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?

Next part (02) ->

{Justice League - DC Masterlist}

Opportunity:

Your mind can't help but wonder what will happen next. Where they're taking you. In your state, half-dead, you feel they pushing you on a hospital stretcher. It's a sick pleasure of theirs, to numb you, yet allow you to understand what's going on around you. It's supposed to be part of their torture, as if they could scare you. They can't. The pain they inflict don't reach you anymore, you're beyond that. It's hard to breathe like there's a pressure on your chest, and you feel the fog that threatens to overcome your mind.

“I can't believe we're doing this.” A distracted, dull voice says. They're hovering over you, you're sure, a smile on their faces. These people aren't better than you, you concluded. They're all villains too, only backed up by their position and by the civilians who would never condemn them for hurting people like you.

“I don't like it either, but the orders came from above.”

It must be nasty if they don't like it. You wish you could move, you wish you could blow the fog away and get up. Then you'd crush their skulls on this stretcher and run. But you're motionless, completely vulnerable to your personal monsters. They enjoy seeing you like this, all of you actually, often saying they're job is to make you pay for everything you did. And many of the villains locked up in here paid for it a hundred times over.

“Don't worry, Mark. She will be back with us in no time. A slut like this wouldn't recognize a good opportunity like this even if fell from the sky.”

Opportunity. What kind of opportunity? You've been waiting a year for an opportunity to flee this place. Belle Reve is hell on Earth, the only prison you can't seem to overcome.

“Put the whore in the ship and fly this damn girl away.”

A fist connects to your stomach, and you feel your body moving, jerking up and falling back to the bed. The pain, hot and rough, spreads through your ribs. It happens three times over, and the blows come from different directions. You know why they like to do this when you're in this state. Because they know that, if you were awake, they'd regret it. They know you'd beat them so bad they'd swallow their pride and apologize. You're burning up, trying to make your body respond to the commands, but it's useless.

“Put her to sleep now. Higher her dose.”

You feel a needle in your neck, and slowly, you sink, to the back of your mind. Bracing yourself for whatever comes next, you decided to enjoy as the world ceases to exist, at least for a while.

•

The journey back to consciousness is like climbing an invisible ladder. The first thing you realize is that you can breathe without any restraint, which is always a good sign. Before opening your eyes, you make sure you can move your body. You start with your feet, then the legs, torso... Then your hands... Your hands are tied together, lied on your stomach. But you seem to be functional. Big mistake. Finally, you open your eyes, finding a white ceiling above. No place in Belle Reve has a white ceiling like this. Checking the surroundings, you find yourself completely alone in a bedroom. A normal bedroom, you suppose. The bed you're in is a king-sized bed. Two nightstands, a wardrobe, a dresser, two armchairs. Two windows on the left side, a door on the wall before you and another on the right. One of them must a bathroom. Bathrooms have mirrors and boxes, made of glass, which you can break and use as a weapon.

You wonder what kind of game is this. What new kind of torture they came up with. Make you believe you're somewhere better, safe, and then attack you all over again? They can't believe you'd fall for that. Not you. Sitting up, your eyes are focused on the windows. That man said that is was an opportunity. And you can use any kind of opportunity. Ignoring the handcuffs around your wrists, you get up in a single motion, using the nightstand to support your weight when the whole world spins around. Regaining your balance, you go to the windows, pushing the curtains away. And you find bars. Just a minor inconvenience.

Outside, what you see isn't the familiar desolation of Belle Rave surroundings. Despite the darkness, you can see a garden, grass, and high walls. On the corner, almost out of sight, you see tables and a pool. What kind of place is this?

A noise on the door makes you turn on your heels, full alert. There's nothing you can use to defend yourself, so you'll have to count on your bare hands. Your eyes fall on the handcuffs and a desperate feeling builds up. You start pulling, violently, trying to set free. You feel as the metal starts ripping the skin, reopening old wounds. Twisting your wrists, you try to at least separate your hands, but the metal doesn't surrender.

The door is open and you're forced to look up, hands ready to put up a fight. Your whole body is burning as if anticipating the war you're about to start.

“Miss (Y/N) Quinzel.” The man starts, not seeming to be surprised at all. He's tall, muscular, wearing a suit and tie. “Please, sit.”

“You bought me, didn't you?” It hits you all of a sudden, and a smile comes to your lips. They sold you away like an animal, how original. A good way to get rid of you, you must admit, but unlike they think, you can recognize an opportunity. Allowing you out of Belle Reve was a huge mistake.

“No, I didn't buy you.” The man casually walks over one of the armchairs, gesturing at the other one after taking a seat.

“It doesn't matter.” You stand there, eyes alert, watching his every move. You're also aware of the door, left unlocked.

“I'm here to explain what you're doing here. Where you are and why.” You're not listening, you're thinking. If you move through the bed, you can get to the door before he even knows what's happening. You're small, which makes you fast. If you jump from the bed to the ground in your run, you'll land right by the door. Once you're out, all you gotta do is keep running. He won't be able to reach you. Muscles are heavy, and this man has many. He's slow.

“Do you think I care?” You ask, waiting for his eyes to leave you, just for a second. You just need a second.

“No, you don't.” Lowering your hands a little bit, you notice how his eyes fall on it. On the blood flowing out.

That's when you move. You step on the bed, following your plan strictly. You jump to the floor, opening the door and fleeing. It doesn't matter where you're going, you just need to keep moving. You hear his footsteps behind you, and it brings a smile to your lips. It's been a while since you had a chance to do something like this. The adrenaline, the rush is as good as you remember. Stumbling downstairs, your eyes find a hall, and that's where you go. The wind messes with your hair, fresh as freedom. You find a door, which is locked, but it doesn't slow you down, you soon start moving again. You reach a kitchen, huge, and your sharp eyes find a knife and you move to grab it. The next thing you notice is a window, with no bars. The man's footsteps fill your ears as you climb up the sink, opening the window and sliding through it, hitting the ground hard on the other side.

Being outside is unbelievable. The fresh wind, the dark sky above. When we the last time you've been outside? You can't remember. Move, you tell yourself. Holding the knife tight with both your hands, you start running again, your barefoot feet hurting on the rocks. You soon see the gates. If you cross it, you're free. You'll be back in the streets, home. Just one last set of bars to overcome. Once you reach it, you drop the knife, holding onto the cold, black metal bars. Your head hurts, and you're a little dizzy, but that's nothing you can't deal with.

Taking a deep breath and biting back a smile, you look forward, to the other side, and start climbing. You don't even process what you're doing. It doesn't matter how tall, how hard will be the fall, you'll do this.

Pulling yourself up, a laugh escapes your lips. They thought they could keep you imprisoned forever. They don't know you, they don't know what you're capable of.

A strong arm encircles your waist and you're pulled back. All air leaves your lungs, but you immediately recognize the enemy. You shouldn't have dropped the knife. The man throws you over his shoulder, and you're quick to attack his back. Using hands and elbows, you punch him, again and again, but he doesn't seem to care. His grip on your thighs grows stronger as your assault on his back gets worse. He's carrying you back to the house, and when he crosses the front door, you kick him hard on the stomach. He flinches a little, which makes you smile and kick him once again, harder this time. The man loses his balance, and you take the chance to push him aside and fall to the floor.

There's no time to take in the pain, you have to move. You're pulled back into his grip, his hand grabbing your ankle. You kick him, not sure where, but a groan leaves his mouth. You must admit you admire his strength. Your guards use to be knocked out very easily.

“Stop it.” He commands, and you smile through the fight. He pulls you up again, over the shoulder. As he tries to climb up the stairs, you push, kick and punch, and he falls a few times, but manages to get you back into the room.

“Put me the hell down!” You yell, sliding down and punching his face.

“Damn it.” He angrily mutters, holding both your wrists. The man uses his weight to push you to the armchair, using his body to keep you there. You fight and scream, hurting him any way you can.

You then feel ropes around you, tight against your chest and stomach. When he stands up again, a bleeding lip, you can't move, it doesn't matter how hard you try. The man touches his lip before going away, closing the door violently.

“I'm sending her back to Belle Reve.” He tells someone, saying something else you can't hear.

‘A slut like this wouldn't recognize a good opportunity like this even if fell from the sky.’ That man's voice comes back to your mind, filled with disgust. You can't let him be right. You can't let this opportunity pass. If you're sent back, you'll prove to him right. No. You have to think before acting, you need to stay here. You almost succeed today. In one year at Belle Reve, you never got anywhere close. Here, you have a chance.

Two hours later, the man is back. He doesn't seem to be angry, just a little mad. Annoyed. You keep your mouth shut, watching as he takes a deep breath and sits on the armchair set in front of you.

“Are you done fighting? And yelling?” He asks, leaning forward, elbows on his knees.

“Are you sending me back to Belle Reve?” It's the only thing you care about.

“No. Not yet.”

“Who are you?” You're struggling with the want to try to set free, to break the handcuffs, to rip the ropes, but you have to control yourself.

“I'm Bruce Wayne. The Batman.”

“You're going to kill me.” You burst out, a particularly loud laugh escaping your lips and bouncing through the walls. The only reason why Batman would tell you his secret identity is because he plans to kill you. “How much did they pay you? Or how much did you pay them?” You manage to say when you finally stop laughing.

“I'm not planning to kill you. I want to rehabilitate you.”

This makes you laugh even more, ignoring how serious he is. He gotta be kidding. “That's a good joke, I must say.”

“Are you done?”

“Are you done, Bruce Wayne?” You stop laughing, looking at him, dead serious. “Because as much as I enjoy a good joke, I need to know why the hell am I here.”

“It's not a joke. I want to prove a point. I want to show people that villains, as they call those like you, can still be brought back to society. Fully recovered. Not everyone, but some might still have a chance.” Bruce's eyes fall on your wrists. The blood is dry, staining the skin.

“You picked the wrong villain, Bruce Wayne. I assure you I don't belong to the group that can be... Rehabilitated.”

“I'm the one who decides that, not you.” Bruce get up to his feet, coming to stand before you, then kneeling. He takes your hands, moving the handcuffs a little to reveal the wounded skin underneath. “I can remove these and clean the injury if you promise not to try anything.”

“I could kick you right in the head,” you tell him, a smirk on your face. “So damn hard you'd pass out and I'd be free to go.”

“If you could do that, you wouldn't announce it.” He stands up again. “I'll be right back.”

You watch as Bruce leaves the room, locking the door. Is it true? Does Batman really want to rehabilitate a villain? You already bumped into the Dark Knight a few times, but managed to run. Now, you're his prisoner. This can't be worse than Belle Reve though, you hope. He comes back minutes later, with a box. Laying it on the bed, you watch his every move. It's something like a first aid kit. He really meant that when he said he would clean the lesion.

“You don't have to attend to my wounds. This is how it works: the blood is washed away in the bath, and the wound is left to heal by itself.” Speaking slow, you explain him how they do things in Belle Reve. A doctor is only called when someone tries to commit suicide. Other than that, your bodies are left to deal alone with any injury.

Bruce doesn't answer. He searches for something in the nightstand behind you, and when he comes back into your sight, he ties up your legs, ankles and knees. “Seriously? Don't you think I've-” You bite your tongue when he pulls your wrists through the handcuffs, causing a sharp pain to spread through the lacerated skin. “That was unnecessary.”

Silently, he opens the handcuffs and you suddenly feel relieved. You feel freer now, even though you're all tied up. You watch as Bruce carefully cleans the wound, wrapping a bandage around your wrists. It's curious to see someone doing such a thing. Before Belle Reve, you had to tell those who worked for you to patch you up. It was always fast, and painful because you just wanted it to be over so you could get along with your things. Then, in that hell... Not even that.

“I will leave you to rest,” Bruce says when he's done, closing the box. “There is soap on the bathroom for you, shampoo, and hair conditioner, as well as all the personal things you'll need. If you believe you need anything else, let me know.”

“Is that your plan? To just leave me here? You really think this will change who I am?”

“You don't know what my plan is.” He makes a pause, looking down at you. “I will untie you now. If you try to run, I will knock you down, and I don't care if you're a girl.”

“Woman.” You correct him, smiling. “And I'm not scared of you, I don't care if you're huge.”

Bruce stands there, thinking. Wondering if you'll run again. But you won't. If you do, he will definitely throw you back in that hole. Taking a deep breath, Bruce kneels down again, untying your legs. He then moves to stand behind you. and the ropes fall loose. You feel his eyes on you, paying attention, but you don't move.

“I'll come back to see you tomorrow.” That said, he leaves.

It takes a while until you finally move, getting up from the chair. Everything you need is Bruce to put down his guard, to trust you just a little bit. An opening, it's everything you need.

Ignoring the ropes laying around your feet, you move to the bathroom. As soon as you open the door, you remember the showers in Belle Reve. How you hugged your knees on the cold concrete floor, under the assault of the high-pressure water as someone held the hose. This is different. Walking around, you notice the small pile of clothes on the sink. A white shirt, light gray sweatpants, and underwear. You notice the white towels, the hairdryer... Taking your clothes off, you step into the box, opening the warm water and letting it soak your body.

You let it all go for a moment, enjoying what a normal shower feels like. You don't need to hide your naked body, the water isn't too cold or too hot, it's perfect, gentle on your skin. You take your time, washing Belle Reve off. You wash your hair too, smiling to smell the strawberry scent from the hair conditioner. Your lilac hair has brown roots for the entire year you spent in prison.

The bathroom is filled with smoke when you step out of the box, drying yourself and putting the clothes on. Staring at the mirror, you wonder when was the last time you saw your face. You look the same, and your not sure if that's good or bad. After drying your hair, you find a brush and starts detangling it.

Going back to bed, you imagine how good it might be to have a life like this every day. Clean clothes, soap, warm water. But that's not your life. Your life is on the streets, underground, beneath an old mall long destroyed. There lies your riches, your money, your things. That's where you belong, where you need to go back to. And you will. Batman won't stop you.

@redwolf-7 @glitterypinkkitty @mybabyboytony

#bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #imagine bruce wayne #bruce wayne imagine #imagine batman #batman imagine #ben affleck batman #imagine suicide squad #suicide squad x reader #suicide squad imagine #harley quinn imagine #bruce wayne x you

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

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Dangerous Love (Pt. 10 of 13)

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

Word count: 3K

<- Previous part (09)

Next part (11)->

{Justice League - DC Masterlist}

Absence

The first week goes by terribly slow. The second is far worse. You're currently right in the middle of the third week since Bruce went to Washington to fight an alien invasion. And there's isn't much in the news yet. On the quick talk you had with Bruce, he told you they're doing their best to deal with the situation before the world starts freaking out. These aliens look like humans, but are far stronger. And Bruce is human. He has no superpower but his intelligence, and that's worrying you to death. You know how well he can deal with this, but it's different... Now that you love him, it's different. The very thought of losing him is suffocating, unbearable. You try your best not to think about it too much, but it's a paradox. How are you supposed to stop thinking about someone who's in your head 24/7?

During this time, Alfred has been a very good company. He doesn't speak much, but with time, you notice he feels a bit more comfortable being around you. He was probably one of the many people to try and talk Bruce out of the idea of bringing you here. But you understand him. If you were in his place, you'd probably do the same.

“So, do you like me now?” You ask him, seated on the kitchen island, watching as he takes the lasagna out of the oven. You made it yourself. Alfred gave you Bruce's tablet, so you would have something to distract yourself. One of the things you started doing was cooking. You try a new recipe every day, and you think you're improving.

“I'm growing used to your presence, Miss Quinzel. And I must admit you're doing quite well considering... You know what.”

“Considering I was a criminal. Harley Quinn's sister. Sentenced to life in prison twice?” It's getting easier to talk about your old life. It doesn't mean you like it, but you don't feel so attached to it anymore. You feel like you can exist apart from it, evolve, have a different life.

“Yes.” Alfred nods.

“Did you try to make Bruce, not like me? You know... You must've noticed something.”

“The effect you had on Master Bruce was immediate.” He starts, cutting a piece of the lasagna for you and for himself. “He even thought about sending you back to Belle Reve in the beginning. Whatever that was, I thought it would vanish with time but it didn't.” He puts the plate before you, and you watch the smoke coming from it as you listen to Alfred. “I often caught him looking at nothing, daydreaming, thinking... And when I went to ask about it, the first subject was always you.”

You're blushing, biting back a smile. “How much... How much do you think he likes me, Alfred?” Lowering your voice, you look at him, who sighs.

“I think he loves you, miss Quinzel.”

“Love...” You mumble, wondering if that could be true. Guess only time will tell. And you hope you'll have time, that whichever species is threatening Earth will be defeated. “I'm scared, you know... Of what may happen.”

“Don't worry. Master Bruce always comes back.”

“That's good to know,” you whisper more to yourself than to Alfred.

The bright part of the day was that Alfred actually complimented your lasagna. And for a moment you were able to smile and forget your worries. But later, at night, you're staring at the TV, news channel on, looking for any signs of Bruce. Anything about the aliens that might mean something... But there's nothing.

“Perhaps he'll have time to call you tonight, Miss Quinzel,” Alfred says, trying to calm you down.

Bruce probably asked him to look after you, because Alfred is always around, distracting you when you're starting to overthink, or just asking if you're alright. It's kind really, but you would like it better if it was Bruce doing all of those things. “Maybe. But he's always in such a rush... I can't bear the idea of him getting hurt.”

“Master Bruce is–” The sudden change in the TV gets your attention, and you're both staring when the 'Breaking News' letters come to the screen, in bright red.

“Live from Washington. A giant being, not from Earth, just arrived. He came out of the ship that was hovering over the city and–” The woman speaks fast, and behind her, the city is up in flames. The camera moves away from her, focusing on some kind of human-like beast with gray skin and spikes coming off his body. The thing is kneeled on the ground, like a stone. “He just came out of the spaceship and destroyed a few buildings on his way. He stopped now, but the Justice League is already trying to take him down. Despite the efforts, the... Being doesn't seem to get hurt. It's just sitting there...”

Your heart is beating so loud you can't even hear the woman now. Stumbling up from the couch, you walk away from the living room until you can't hear the TV anymore.

“Miss Quinzel,” Alfred calls, and you sit on the stairs, both hands on your head.

You should be there. You've been to missions before. You could help. “Alfred, how do I get there?” You speak fast, standing up to your feet and going back to your room.

“Bruce wouldn't want you to go.”

“I don't care. I have to help him.” Being here, doing nothing as Bruce is out there fighting a freaking giant gray alien is stupid. “I know I'm only human, but–”

You're cut off by a ring coming from the tablet. It's Bruce. Running to get it from the nightstand, you breathe out relieved to see it's a video call. Sitting on the bed, you answer it. Seeing him brings a smile to your lips. He's wearing the Batman suit, but without the mask. “Bruce.” You put the tablet on the nightstand, using the lamp to support it because your hands are shaking a little.

“(Y/N). How are you?”

“I'm fine... How are you? A-are you alright?” Pulling your feet up, you hug your knees. He looks tired.

“I'm alright, don't worry about me, sweetheart.”

“How can I not worry about you? I saw it on the news, like two minutes ago... The huge gray monster, Bruce. I'm going there to help you.” You speak fast, already thinking about how you'd actually get there. A commercial flight isn't really an option, not for you.

“No, (Y/N). If you were here I'd lose focus.”

“I won't distract you, I promise. I want to help.” You beg because that's the least you can do after everything he did for you. And you'd be helping people too, after being a villain.

“If you were here I'd lose focus because I'll want to protect you. And that would become my priority.” Bruce lowers his voice, and Alfred leaves after mumbling something about giving you some privacy. “(Y/N), I need you to know that if anything happens to me, you won't go back to Belle Reve.”

“What?” What the hell does he mean by that? He can't say something like that... “No! Don't you even-don't you even... Bruce, I don't wanna hear it. You have to make it back.” You speak fast, tears in your eyes. You can't lose him just when things are just starting. This can't be the end.

“Please, (Y/N)–”

“No! I don't wanna hear it.” You yell.

“(Y/N), listen!” Bruce shouts too, his voice louder than yours. His sudden outburst shuts you up, but you're a mess, tears rolling down as you're forced to face the possibility of his death. “I will not let them put you back in that prison. So I made plans just in case...” He makes a pause. “You'd live with a friend of mine. Well, with his mother on a farm in Smallville. It's a beautiful place. You'd have a calm life, but I must ask you not to startle Martha too much.”

“I don't wanna go anywhere, Bruce,” you beg, drying off some tears. “I just want you to come back.”

“I know, my love. But I had to do this. I would never leave you unprotected.” He gets tense suddenly when an explosion happens. “And I will leave you my money. To you and Alfred. You'd have all the means to rebuild your life as you want. In the farm or somewhere else. Study, buy a nice house–”

“Screw your money, Bruce. I want you!”

Another explosion and someone calls him. “I have to go... Take care of yourself, (Y/N).”

“Please, be careful.” I love you. The sentence comes to the tip of your tongue again, but you hold it back. “Come back to me.” You're still speaking when the connection is cut.

You just stay here, paralyzed, looking at the screen where Bruce was seconds ago. He was there, so close yet so far...

Time starts passing by in a blur. You stopped watching TV because you don't want to know what's happening out there. If Bruce dies... Alfred will be the one to tell you. And whatever comes next, it won't matter. At first, you were angry, furious, certain that you'd leave the mansion and head back to your old lair, straight back into your old life. But as the days go by, and turn into weeks, you realize you can't do that. You can't undo what Bruce did like it was nothing. You know that, if the worst happens, you'd want to honor the memory of the man you love. So you'd go to the stupid farm, live the rest of your days remembering the days you spent here, the few kisses you shared.

Sometime in the numbness, you made your way down to the cave, where you started putting all your anger, fear, and desperation on a punching bag. It soon became a daily activity, and it didn't take long until the skin on your knuckles broke. Alfred taught you how to wrap a bandage around your fists to help with the impact, but even so, the blood soon started to soak the white fabric. Bruce will be happy to know that you didn't revert back to your old ways... If he ever has the chance to know.

Today, almost a month after your last video call, you're cleaning your knuckles carefully, gasping when the pain hits. The skin is basically gone, and it's a nightmare just to clench your fists. But it's the only way you can cope. Pain is the only way you know how to deal with everything you're feeling. And above all that, you're feeling dizzy, sore. It's so damn cold today, but you refuse to take a coat with you because you'll warm up as soon as start punching the bag. With one last look in the mirror, you leave the bathroom, taking the bandages and wrapping them around your hands. You hear low voices, chattering, coming from downstairs. Did Alfred invite someone? Nobody came here since Bruce left.

Bruce... You're going crazy because you swear to God you hear his voice among the others. “Get it together. Don't think too much.” You repeat to yourself the motto you made, saying it again and again for the last weeks. “Get it together.” But you hear it again, and low footsteps.

You're telling yourself not to do this, that it's probably just your mind playing tricks, but you're soon at the hall, the voices filling your ears as you walk fast to the stairs. You're halfway there when you see him, climbing the last steps. You stop on your tracks, too scared to be seeing a ghost, a hallucination. Impulse wins over fear, and you're running towards him, too scared to reach nothing. But your heart stops and you start crying when you reach flesh, and you immediately jump onto his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist. He's quick to hold you, sustaining your weight.

“Are you really here?” You mumble, your voice is weak and a little affected by the crying.

“I'm here. I'm back, sweetheart. It's over.”

You pull away just enough to kiss him, to make sure this is not a dream. You can feel your heart beating violently, and the kiss has to be brief because you're having a hard time catching your breath.

“Oh, my.” Someone says, and something gets your attention downstairs. When you look, you see the small group of people responsible for the chattering. The so-called Justice League. You jump down, suddenly noticing how you were clinging into Bruce.

“I didn't know you had company,” you mutter, fixing your hair. Bruce suddenly takes one of your hands, and then the other one.

“What's that?” He asks.

“I was on the verge of going mad so I befriended one of your punching bags.” As you speak, Bruce starts unwrapping the bandage, and you sigh because you didn't want him to see what's underneath.

“(Y/N).” He exclaims to see the wounds, the basically inexistent skin on your knuckles, and some blood already.

“I know, Bruce, I just... I didn't know what to do and... This is–” You're aware of the eight pairs of eyes on you. “You should give your friends some attention,” you whisper.

“Excuse me for a moment.” Bruce raises his voice before pulling you with him, back into the bedroom.

He's silent as he treats the wounds. It hurts like hell, so you bite your lip. The bandage he puts on is a different type, and then he wraps it all around your hand, and in between your fingers. He also applied some moisture to help the healing process. “Why did you do that?”

“Because that's the only way I know how to cope.” Bruce sits on the bed beside you, and you turn your body towards him. “I was... I was mad because I finally fell in love with someone and he could die, I...”

“Hey, let's not talk about it now, ok?” He brings his hand to your face, and you missed his touch so much. But there's a weird expression on his face, and his hand moves to your neck. “You're hot.”

“What?” You don't follow the sudden change.

“You have a fever.”

“Oh... Really? I didn't notice.” Well, you noticed the soreness and dizziness, and how your body has been weaker in the last two days.

Bruce goes to the bathroom again and comes back handing you a pill. “This will help lower your fever. Now come, let's get you a glass of water and introduce you to the League.”

He reaches out his hand and you take it. “Are you going to introduce me to them?”

“Of course.”

You take another route so you'll pass through the kitchen first. And then you make your way to the living room. Bruce is still holding your hand, and you're sure that won't go unnoticed. “Bruce, I think you should let go of my hand. They'll think we're together.” You whisper, forcing him to slow down his pace.

“They just saw us kissing. And you jumping in arms.” He stops, looking down at you.

“Oh... Sorry about that, I didn't know they were looking.”

“Do you think I'll hide our relationship?” Bruce furrows his eyebrows a little, his fingers caressing your chin.

“Won't you?” You was expecting that. You didn't think Bruce would ever let whatever is happening between you to get outside this mansion.

“Of course I won't.” He bends over to kiss you and you tiptoe to meet his lips halfway. “Now, come. They're excited to meet you.”

“Why would they be excited to meet me?” You mutter, shrugging your shoulders.

When you get to the living room, all eyes fall on you. Maybe they're curious to know the criminal Bruce sheltered. “(Y/N), these are Clark, Arthur, Diana, and Barry. Everyone, this is (Y/N) Quinzel.“ Bruce says, and you step forward to shake their hands.

“Hi,” you mumble, clearing your throat. “It's nice to meet you, guys. I've seen you on TV.”

“I've seen you on TV too,” Barry speaks up. “No offense.”

“None taken. Don't worry.” You assure him. “I made peace with my past.”

“So... You two, huh?” Arthur says with a smirk. He's holding a huge Trident, and you have no idea why he has this thing here with him.

“Bruce here couldn't stop talking about you," Diana says with a smile, and the others nod and giggle. They seem eager to embarrass Bruce somehow. But you're sure you're the one blushing because it's good to know that he was thinking about you as much as you were thinking about him.

“Age gap. Hot.” Arthur winks at you. Or at Bruce, you're not sure. And it only takes three words to make everyone a little uncomfortable.

“Arthur, would you shut up?” Diana gives him a hard stare.

“Can you talk to fish?” You ask him, trying to change the focus of the subject.

“In a way, yes.”

“That's cool. In an away.” Shrugging your shoulders and giving him a small smile, you exchange a glance with Bruce as the others giggle again.

“Sassy. We'll get along just fine.” Barry exclaims, high-fiving you.

“Well, you're welcome to stay as long as you want before you need to head back to you... Jurisdictions.” Bruce announces. “And as long as you don't say stupid things to my girlfriend.”

“He's talking to you, Arthur.” Clark comments.

“So you guys are officially dating?”

“Of course they are, Barry. Batman here couldn't seem to think about anything else than her during the whole mission.” Diana says in a sassy tone.

“Alright,” Bruce speaks up, sighing. “Make yourselves comfortable. Come, sweetheart.”

“It was nice to meet the girl who stole Batman's heart,” Arthur says as you start walking away with Bruce.

“Woman.” You correct him as you wave.

Bruce takes you upstairs again, and you can't help but smile like an idiot. You feel your cheeks warm, but you're not sure if it's the fever or if you're just blushing. Instead of stopping by your bedroom, Bruce keeps guiding you through the hall. Before you can say anything, he opens a door for you.

“I need a warm shower and attend to a few wounds. Thought you'd like to be around.” When you step in, you realize you've never been in his bedroom. It's huge. The bed seems to be twice the size of yours, and there's a lounge near a big window with a couch and a TV. “Make yourself comfortable.”

“Ok.” He places a soft kiss on your lips before heading to the bathroom. There's another door here, which probably leads to a closet. But you don't want to intrude, so you just seat on the edge of his bed.

After a few minutes though, you can't help but wander around a little, looking at his stuff. It kinda feels like Bruce is allowing you to get to know him better, to get closer... A while after you end up by his nightstand, taking a picture up to get a closer look. It's a child Bruce, with his parents.

“I see you already met Martha and Thomas Wayne.” His voice scares you and you put the picture down.

“Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing, (Y/N).” Bruce touches your arm, pulling you closer. You see a purple bruise on his neck, coming from his shoulder.

“You're hurt,” you say, pulling the collar of his shirt away so you can have a better look.

Bruce takes your hands in his, placing a kiss on the bandage wrapped around your knuckles. “I'm fine. Don't worry about me.”

“But–”

“Come here.” He pulls you towards the bed, sitting down, his back against the headboard. Taking a deep breath, you sit before him, but he keeps pulling you until your back is resting against his chest. “I fought a giant gray alien so I just want to sit here with you for a while.”

You smile to feel his arms around you, keeping you close, safe. You're very, very comfortable here, but you have to do something. So you move, turning around to face Bruce.

“What?”

“Sorry, but I have to kiss you.”

“Alright, but stop apologizing, ok? There's no reason to.” As he speaks, Bruce pulls you closer, a finger under your chin.

“Ok,” you mutter, smiling and slowly giving in into the kiss.

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