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angelkissiies · 2 years

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open hand or closed fist

joker x reader x bruce

TW : trauma, healing, needles, anxiety, slight betrayal, paranoia, stalking, mention of blood and bruises.

word count : 3060

part 2/?

find part one here

The lights above your bed blinded you as you attempted to focus your vision. It was as if you’d gone blind, the cloudiness persisting despite your efforts. Your body felt heavy as you sat up, wires and tubes twisting up and catching as you finally gained some clarity. It was a hospital room, the sterile smell wafting as you moved around in bed. It was quiet, despite the hustle and bustle of hospital staff from outside.

You glanced around, trying to wrap your head around what was going on. The last thing you could remember was pain, so much of it. Your hand automatically shot to your jaw, which now sat as it did before The Joker had maimed it. You could only assume the doctor had fixed it while you were out, which was refreshing. Your memory had begun to piece together, tracing back to fit in all the pieces of the puzzle which was last night.

“Ah, nice to see you awake!” A chipper voice called from across the room, and as you turned to see who it was- you were met with a familiar face. Angela, your coworker. During the shock of it all, you just happened to forget you worked at gotham general. It was almost comical, until you saw the brief look of disgust cross her face. ”How are you feeling?”

A pang of embarrassment shot through you as you moved your hand to cover your face, playing it off as messing with a few loose strands of hair. “I-im okay.” You mumbled, your jaw preventing you from opening your mouth all the way. Your words were barely audible, but she still seemed to understand as she began to move closer to get a better view of you.

She sat the clipboard down, the table having barely enough room for it. You hadn’t noticed before but there were a couple vases filled with beautiful flowers sitting just about a foot from your bed, as you squinted to get a better view of them- one in particular caught your attention. It was filled with white lilies, which was odd. Yes, they were your favorite flower but nobody knew that. At least you didn't think anyone knew that. You brushed it off as just simply a slip up that you’d forgotten about. Angela was focused on the bags of medicine that hung by your bed, slowly dripping into the IV’s that were connected to every available vein. Both arms and both wrists had needles jammed in, making a rather uncomfortable situation as you attempted to move around.

“Can we take these out?” You asked, holding up both wrists as you took a short glance at the medications being pumped into your body, they weren’t necessary. Painkillers and saline you could live without. As you held out your arms towards the woman, you took note of the bruises bracelting your wrists. They were dark purple and black, the edges having begun to turn a sickly green as you slept. “They’re really uncomfortable.”

Angela nodded, turning the knob on the tubes to stop the medication. She moved to turn off the others before her nimble hands hesitantly reached out for your wrist, her eyes shot a nervous glance your way before gently pulling the needle out. She sat it down on the tray attached to the side of your bed, a couple drops of blood escaped the small wound before she could press a cotton round to it. It barely registered as your mind clouded, every detail from your encounter with The Joker surfacing. It was like a constant reminder of your job, the one thing he had asked you to do. The one thing that would ensure he didn’t kill you next time he summoned an audience with you, in the moment you didn’t realize it, but the way he looked at you made you want to dig your own grave. It wasn’t something you couldn’t describe very well, but there was something behind his eyes that chilled you to the core. It made you think back to the stories you’d been told as a child, the ones where the boogeyman would eat little girls up as they slept unaware in their beds. It all felt too familiar.

“There’s someone here to speak to you,” Angela spoke, snapping you from your thoughts. Her hands had small blood stains on her fingers from touching the needles which were all now sitting grotesquely on the side table. She hugged the clipboard to her body tightly, sparing a sympathetic glance before heading towards the door. “May I send them in?”

You nodded curtly, stretching your wrists out to release the tension they’d gathered. Your entire body felt ridgid, like you’d been frozen and had just begun to defrost. As you waited for your visitor to enter, your eyes settled on the vase of lilies. It stood proudly in the center of the others, no card or indication of where it came from. The other two bouquets held small message cards on sticks woven into their intricate designs, evident that someone had cared enough to go to those lengths to show their support.

“(Y/n)?” It was Bruce. He’d come all this way and it seemed he wasn’t alone. Behind him was Jim Gordon, a lieutenant with the GCPD. You’d met him before, seeing as he frequented the hospital. He usually bit off more than he could chew with some thugs and landed himself in the waiting room with a broken nose. The amount of times you’d stitched the man up evaded you, though it had now bypassed ten. “My god, are you okay?” Bruce looked beyond stressed, his eyes carrying bags that rivaled yours. You could only imagine the anxiety you’d put him through.

“I’m alright.” You spoke, attempting a smile though it didn’t quite register on your face. The air was thick as you looked for the right words to say, there was nothing you could do to comfort his worries as you didn’t even know exactly what he was looking at. You hadn’t had the opportunity to look in a mirror yet, to see the injuries you had sustained. Your imagination went wild with the horrendous possibilities of how maimed you'd become. A monstrous anxiety loomed over you as your hands clenched onto the hospital blankets. You’d become well acquainted with the man over the past few months, to see how you’d caused him such disarray was comforting. He cared, you could see that.

Bruce furrowed his brows, pulling a chair from the table a little ways away. He positioned right next to your bed, sitting down to rest his hands on the edge of the thin mattress. “What happened, (Y/n)? Who did this to you?” He questioned, behind him, Gordon had pulled a small notepad from his pocket. As much as you liked to think this whole visit was out of concern, it seemed to just be an interrogation.

“It's all fuzzy..” You began, glancing over at Gordon. His eyes seemed to be trained on your chest, more specifically the area right under your breast where The Joker had carved his brand into you. He knew, the doctors must have told him. What did he know? You looked away from him, meeting Bruce’s gaze. There was so much to unpack in his stare, it added so much weight to the growing burden on your shoulders. If you told them anything important, you'd end up dead. Surely, they would too. Their lives were sitting in the palm of your hand and every word you spoke could be the death sentence. You wanted to tell them everything, to spare no detail and go into hiding somewhere he could never find you- but it wasn't possible. No matter how far you ran, no matter what desolate corner of the earth you hid away in, he would always find you. There was no escape. “All I really remember was how bad it hurt. When I thought it was over, it just kept going. Like they were having too much fun to remember I was a person. A living, breathing person who could feel everything they were doing.” The words brought tears to your eyes, the pressure in your chest building as you sought out a distraction. Something to keep you grounded.

Gordon spoke first, stepping towards the bed slightly before Bruce halted him. “So wait, you’re saying there were two attackers?” He asked, using a thumb to swipe his notepad onto the next page. He seemed intrigued but not surprised, scribbling down whatever he was thinking at the moment.

You nodded gently, turning away from Bruce’s stare. You looked for anything that might serve as a beacon for your thoughts. A large window sat on the wall looking into the hallway, you could see doctors and nurses rushing back and forth. It made your chest ache, you were supposed to be doing that. You shouldn’t be stuck here, lying in the most uncomfortable bed in all of Gotham, picking up the pieces of your life because of one night. A moment passed and as you went to turn away from the window, someone caught your eye. He was familiar, though you could’ve sworn that you’d never seen him here before. You knew almost every nurse on the staff roster, though as you tried to get a better look- you realized he was staring. His eyes bore holes into you as the pieces clicked together.

It was one of The Joker's men. The same one from that night, his face was familiar because it was the last thing you saw before being drugged.

Bruce’s hand moved to rest on yours, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “I know this is hard, we’re going to do whatever we can to help you though. Okay?” His voice felt like a warm breeze, the type that envelops you in a blanket of comfort as summer turns to fall. As much as your mind screamed at you to trust him, you couldn’t. He was one of the last good people left in Gotham, you couldn’t knowingly put him in danger.

“Thank you, Mr. Wayne. It means alot that you came at all.” A smile graced your tense lips,now that you knew you were being watched- this all became much more deadly. If The Joker thought for even a second you were going to betray him, you wouldn’t be leaving the hospital at all. You’d stay right here, only just a couple floors down in the morgue. you needed to figure out a way to infiltrate his home full-time. When you were called over it was only for an hour at a time, it wasn’t enough to pull off Joker's plan. You needed something more permanent.

The older man sighed loudly, tucking his notepad away in his jacket pocket. His face was contorted in an anxious contemplation as he stepped towards the door. “If you happen to remember anything that will help us, please don’t hesitate to call. Bruce has my number, he can give it to you.” He seemed frustrated, seeing as he knew that you knew more than you were letting on. Never once did you touch on the ache in your ribs, the deeply carved ‘J’ that marked you as his. Something you’d never be able to get rid of.

“I will, thank you, JIm.”

With that, he exited. Leaving you and Bruce in silence. Did Bruce know anything? How much did he know about what happened, was he also waiting for you to slip up- to reveal something he already knew? It made you tense up, how could you figure out who was really trying to help and who was trying to get something from you? If Bruce knew, he was waiting for you to slip up with more information. He could tell Jim and then Jim would tell Batman. It was always the same story, and if the word got around to Batman- you were a dead woman walking. It would be like putting a target on your forehead. There was nothing The Joker hated more than the masked vigilante.

“I’m so sorry this happened to you. Is there anything I can do to help?” Bruce asked, eyes focused on the black that surrounded your eye. It was still swollen, lessened only enough to allow it to squint open. It made him sick to his stomach, the sight of you was enough to bring him to his knees. Through the past few months, he’d grown attached to you. Every night when he’d come home from fighting the scum of Gotham, he had you on speed dial. He could always count on you to show up and patch up his wounds without a second thought. You never asked too many questions, but instead, asked him questions about his day and things he liked. Nobody ever really asked those things, it made him feel special. He hated to admit it but he was more attached to you than he’d like to admit. To know that the one day he didn’t call you from work early-this happened, caused an ache to form in his chest.

You smiled at him softly, you had tried these past few months to distance yourself from him. As they all said, he was a playboy- he turned on his charm for any lady he set eyes on. Not to mention you were only there to steal from him. It did you no good to get close to him, to catch feelings. It would only make your job harder in the long run, and that had come true. You had allowed yourself to feel for him, become friends with the billionaire. “I-I don’t know, honestly. I’m just scared to go home, what if they come back?” The air caught in your chest, your eyes cast downward as you awaited him to take the bait. This was your chance, all you needed him to do was invite you into his home.

His face fell and he squeezed your hand once more, shaking his head. “I won’t let that happen. I can protect you, (Y/n). Do you have anything specific you need from your apartment, I can have it picked up.”

The words were enough to send your plan into motion. “I can write out a list,” You began, forming a frown as you averted your eyes from his. The conflicting feelings were bubbling up, you didn’t want to do this to him but on the other hand- you had no choice. If he ever found out, which he definitely would, could he ever find it within himself to forgive you? You wanted the answer to be yes, for all of this to melt away once you did your job and got the information to Joker. That was a fantasy though, as with all of The Jokers plans- there was a catch. The thought had been brewing in the back of your mind for awhile, piecing together a survival plan once this was all over, until you realized it would never be over. Using the interface would give The Joker a backdoor to any building that used WayneTech, meaning that every single building in Gotham would be in his control. You’d have nowhere to hide and that meant neither would Batman. He’d use the tech keeping Gothamites safe to expel the vigilante, no matter what the cost might be. It made you sick, to have to keep this charade up for the sake of staying alive another day. “But where will I go, Bruce? I don’t have any family and even with as much as you pay me- i can’t afford to leave Gotham.” There was a quake in your voice, a telltale sign of a false truth, something that Bruce had caught on without your knowledge.

The man tensed slightly, suspicion raising in his chest as he took you in. His first idea was to have you take up residence at Wayne Manor, seeing as it was the safest place in the entire city. Now, as he considered the odds of the situation- his faith in you wavered. He knew from the beginning there was more to the story, from the far off look in your eyes and the initial branding you- he knew what was behind this. Who was behind this. He couldn’t help but wonder if you were in with him. It felt cruel to even consider it, seeing as the woman he’d grown so fond of was sitting in front of him barely holding herself together. Despite the nagging feeling in his chest, he still wanted- no, needed- to protect you. “You can come stay with me,” He began, choosing his next words wisely. “I have another house on the island, I used to stay there when crime got bad in Gotham.” That wasn’t a lie, he did stay there when crime got bad- but only because he hated the commute back and forth off the island when delivering criminals.

Your mouth opened and closed, no noise coming out as you looked for the right words. The idea sent chills down your spine, as the last time you were there- you’d left looking like this. Not even considering how much easier The Joker would be able to get to you, seeing as he had taken up residence in the old asylum. Bruce had no idea the perial he’d be putting you in. Joker would love this. “Really? You’d do that for me?” You asked, hands clasping his gently. “That’s too much, I don’t think I can accept it. I don’t want to intrude in your home.”

Bruce shook his head firmly, a smile pulling at his lips. “Trust me, it’s more than okay. We can stay there until the man who did this to you is found. Until then, it’s you and me, roomie.” He joked, nudging you slightly. He couldn’t let you know that he had caught on, that there was something more beneath the surface. He saw the way his offer affected you, the life seemed to drain from your body. It was fear and something else, something more primal. Whatever happened to you was somehow tied to Arkham Island.

“I don’t know how to thank you, Mr. Wayne.”

“You can start by calling me Bruce.”

#the joker x reader #joker x reader x bruce #reader x bruce wayne #the batman 2022 #dcu x reader #dcu fanfic #heath ledger #robert pattinson #this fic will be the death of me #fanfic #dc universe

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hyunnieshannie · 10 months

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Have you ever read a fic that captures you in every way?

Warning: this is a rant // Review about a fic I just finished. I DONT usually post this kind of thing on the writing blog and would usually post this on my secondary ( @hyunsungbased ) but I felt like I needed to rant properly so here you go.

I just finished the most gruesome. Heart wrenching. Psychiatric facility needing fic I have EVER read and enjoyed all 35 chapters of the gut twisting, anxiety inducing story line.

The tags? Usually ones I don’t go out of my way looking for (Dead Dove: Do Not Eat and others) but when I saw THE TRAILER. YES. A WHOLE. MOVIE. TRAILER. for it. I had to do it.

Like this fic genuinely surpassed being just a fic. I 100% believe that if the author changed the names around from SKZ / ATEEZ names it could be a published book. That would more than definitely capture the attention of horror // psychological thriller fans.

As someone who wants to be in film as a director I’d JUMP at a chance to make this a tv show or movie. It was fucking PHENOMENAL.

The plot. Attention to detail. Continuity. The side plots. The foreshadowing. The hints dropped throughout the story, Everything about this fic was so incredibly well done. The author must have been as meticulous as Chan was throughout the story to genuinely have me this floored.

There are very little authors who’ve had me this intrigued. A few being some mutuals I’ve made here. (@milkandhyunnie & @straywrds I’m looking at you) and some who I continuously read their works. (You can find the works I genuinely love SO MUCH in my Fic Suggestions list HERE

Back to my rant/Review:

I Don’t cry at fics. I barely cry reading but some of the deaths gutted me. I have an entire video of myself SOBBING over two deaths. Ranting to a friend of how cruel it was even tho I was EXPECTING it. And every-time it was brought back up I could feel myself choking. It was unfair and cruel. And one of the characters last words being “Do you think he’s waiting for me?” Destroyed me in my entirety.

This fic became an obsession. Almost as unhealthy and the relationship between the main characters. It ate me alive. My brain couldn’t function properly. It became an obsession. I stayed up countless nights reading because i couldn’t put it down.

I fell in love with the characters, their development, and genuinely felt so strongly. And DEFENDED THEIR ACTIONS.

There were times I found myself thinking ‘wow yeah I’m in love with Hyunjin’s character in this fic..’ when I know I should have been wincing at the thought of who his character was.

It. Fucked. With. Me. So. Bad. (In a good way)

I talked about it to all my friends —> told them what was going on as a play by play as I read.

They aren’t really down for the kind of fic it was (Murder// Gruesome killings// and other things that is best described in ‘Have you ever seen the show Hannibal?’ {no. No one in SKZ does those things to each other // Eats. Weird things}) they opted to me giving a synopsis.

They laughed with me and when it came to. Cried as hard as I did and they weren’t even reading it. (Ty to my friends for putting up with me because dear god. When I say it became an obsession I genuinely mean it. A lot of it inspired how Kierra acts within our fic super board. So if our last chapter of Kierra’s past shocked you that fic may have definitely had a part to play. Kierra was ALWAYS going down that road. The author inspired the gruesomeness of the act itself)

As someone who’s been writing another fic on the sidelines to test the waters of the dark and twisted this fic has truly inspired me. (I may perhaps leave it on AO3 instead as I’m not sure how our readers here - who are used to our casual fluffier happy ending writing style may react.).

I have never been more inspired to write angst with either a hopeful ending or no happy ending at all.

I could go on about this all day. I have done it too. I have went on a whole TWO HOUR explanation on how I felt about this I could probably write an essay about why it was so good.

If you made it this far thank you.

Here’s a gift for your troubles.

*cries seeing them because this fic altered my brain chemistry*

>> Mini’s Note: If somehow any of this interested you after reading this (i tried to leave it as vague as possible while my brain still tries to process the last 3 chapters) pls feel free to dm me for info on it but I cannot stress this enough. This fic is so heavy in terms of topics and the details put into it. SO. HEAVY. I’ll gladly pass it along but it really is not for the weak of stomachs. If you still want it, I advise you HEAVILY READ THE TAGS MORE THAN ONCE.

Ps: i have started their next series which is on going and supposedly DARKER than the one I just finished. Please pray for not only may sanity, but for the sanity of the friends who will have to deal with me for the next [insert time period] that I spend reading it.

#hyunnieshannie #stray kids #stray kids fic #fic recommendation #fic review #ao3 works #i seriously have a problem #i seriously want to cry #this fic is so good #this fic will be the death of me #this fic altered my brain chemistry.#dm me if you want the link.#READ. THE. WARNINGS.

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