#scarecrow x batgirl
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Behind the Mask - Jonathan Crane x Fem!Reader (ONESHOT)
Pairing: Jonathan Crane x Fem!Reader
Scarecrow x Batgirl!Reader
Word Count: 15079
Warnings: Enemies to Lovers, fear toxin, Scarecrow x Batgirl
Summary: (REQUEST) While chasing down the Scarecrow in Gotham, Y/n forms an unexpected bond with the mysterious figure. As their relationship deepens, Y/n finds herself navigating the blurred boundaries between friend and foe.
A/N: I got a request for Scarecrow x Batgirl!reader with enemies to lovers and I fucking JUMPED at this one, I did not mean to write this much, holy shit.
I didn't really have a plan going into this one, so when I started writing, I was going from top to bottom, so whatever happened happened and I clearly went OFF!
While writing this, I kinda had comic-book!Scarecrow in my brain for reasons I couldn't explain, but ya know... it's the same dude so yeah.
I really hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it 💚
-
"I'll need you to be on watch in the Narrows tonight," Bruce instructed Y/n as he fastened his suit, his tone carrying the weight of his responsibilities.
"Any you want me to keep an eye one in particular?" Y/n asked, adjusting her own suit in preparation.
"Many, but the Scarecrow’s been more active recently, I want you to look out for him, I have the Joker to deal with." Bruce replied, his gaze distant as he mentally prepared for the night's challenges.
It had been a a few months since Y/n first became the Batgirl. Y/n often found herself in the wrong place at the wrong time, or perhaps it was the right place at the right time, depending on how one looked at it. As a bystander in Gotham City, she frequently stumbled upon scenes of crime and chaos, unwittingly becoming entangled in the city's never-ending struggle for order.
On one occasion, while walking home from work, Y/n witnessed a mugging in progress. Without hesitation, she sprang into action, using her self-defense skills to fend off the assailant and protect the victim. Little did she know, Batman had been monitoring the situation from the shadows, impressed by her bravery and resourcefulness.
This became a regular occurrence for Y/n after that, seeking out injustice in the city and protecting those in need. With each encounter, Y/n found herself drawn further into Batman's world, her actions catching his attention time and time again, forging an unexpected bond between herself and the Dark Knight.
Under Batman's guidance, Y/n evolved from a mere bystander into Batgirl, a symbol of hope and strength for the citizens of Gotham. With her skills and determination, she stood shoulder to shoulder with the Caped Crusader, ready to confront the darkness that threatened to consume their city.
The two of them went their separate ways, Y/n finding herself in the Narrows, poached on a building. And as if on cue, she heard screams coming from an alley. Immediately jumping into action, Y/n dropped down and rushed to the scene, and just as she expect, the man with a burlap mask stood over a helpless person, screaming and scratching on the floor.
"Refining your toxins, Scarecrow?" Y/n's voice echoed down the dimly lit alley, drawing his attention like a moth to a flame.
"Alone in the shadows, Batgirl?" Scarecrow's distorted voice floated back, his eerie presence sending shivers down Y/n's spine.
Without hesitation, Y/n surged forward, her determination driving her towards the looming figure of Scarecrow. Scarecrow's agility was surprising, a testament to his cunning and prowess.
Despite his speed, Y/n's athletic skills allowed her to gain ground. With a swift motion, she held out a Batarang, sending it spinning towards Scarecrow's feet. The makeshift trap worked like a charm, causing him to stumble and crash to the ground.
"Lost your footing?" Y/n taunted, her voice laced with determination.
"Lost your vision?" Scarecrow retorted, his words accompanied by a sudden burst of suspicious powder that engulfed Y/n's senses.
Coughing and disoriented, she struggled to maintain her balance as her surroundings blurred into a hazy fog.
In the midst of the chaos, Scarecrow seized the opportunity to strike, delivering a well-aimed kick that sent Y/n tumbling to the ground. With a pained groan, she collided with the unforgiving pavement, the impact jarring her senses and rattling her confidence.
As Scarecrow's footsteps faded into the distance, leaving behind only the distant echoes of the Narrows, Y/n cursed her carelessness. Still reeling from the encounter, she struggled to regain her bearings, her vision still clouded and her body aching from the fall.
"This better not be permanent," Y/n muttered under her breath, frustration evident in her voice as she struggled to regain her footing amidst the haze of her blurry vision.
With the aid of the wall for support, Y/n navigated her way out of the Narrows, determination guiding her steps despite her impaired sight. Fumbling for her walkie-talkie, she summoned Batman, her admission tinged with a hint of embarrassment.
"Hey, uh... Could you bring the Batmobile? I can't see," Y/n confessed, her tone a clear indication of her frustration.
"On my way," Batman's reassuring voice crackled through the device.
As she waited at the end of the alleyway, the familiar roar of the Batmobile's engine signaled Batman's arrival. He lifted the roof of the vehicle, his presence a comforting presence in the midst of Y/n's uncertainty.
"You getting in?" Batman's usual impatience brought a hint of levity to the situation, his words a welcome distraction from Y/n's predicament.
"Yeah, could you help me? I can't see properly," Y/n admitted, her voice tinged with embarrassment. "It's all just a black blob."
Without hesitation, Batman leaped out of the car, his strong hand reaching out to guide Y/n safely into the vehicle. As they embarked on their journey through the city's shadowy streets, Y/n couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the steadfast ally by her side.
"Rough night?" Batman's gravelly voice broke the silence, cutting through the tension that hung in the air.
"You could say that," Y/n replied, her tone heavy with disappointment as she settled into the seat beside him. "Will my vision be like this permanently?" Y/n asked, the question bugging her for the last 10 minutes.
"Hard to tell with the Scarecrow, but you should be okay. It's a surprise he didn't use his fear toxin on you," Batman remarked, his voice betraying a hint of concern.
Y/n let out a sigh of resignation, her shoulders slumping as she leaned back against the seat. In the darkness of the Batmobile, surrounded by the faint hum of the engine and the steady rhythm of the city outside, she couldn't help but feel a sense of vulnerability. But even in her moment of uncertainty, she found solace in the presence of the silent guardian beside her, a reminder that she was never truly alone in the shadows of Gotham.
-
Fortunately for Y/n, her vision returned within an hour, relieving her of the temporary blindness. Despite Bruce's insistence that she call it a night and rest up, Y/n's determination to uncover more about their adversary remained unyielding. In the depths of the Batcave, she was immersed in her research, combing through databases and news articles in search of a lead.
"Thought you'd be down here, Master Bruce holding you back?" Alfred's familiar voice echoed through the cavernous space as he descended into the Batcave.
"No, I was supposed to head home an hour ago," Y/n admitted, her attention still fixed on the glowing screen before her.
"Well, shall I fetch you some supper then?" Alfred offered, ever the attentive caretaker.
"It's alright, Alfred. Thank you," Y/n replied, offering a grateful smile in his direction.
As Alfred approached, he cast a glance at the screen, taking note of Y/n's diligent research and the meticulous notes scattered around her workspace.
"My, you've certainly done quite the thorough job. It's no wonder you landed that internship," Alfred remarked, his tone filled with pride.
"You and I both know I only got that internship at Arkham because of Bruce's influence," Y/n laughed.
"You ought to give yourself more credit, Miss L/n," Alfred's voice held a gentle admonishment as he glanced over Y/n's work. "When is your first day, anyway?"
Glancing at the clock, Y/n realized it was already 1 AM. "Tomorrow," she answered.
"I beg of you to go home, Miss L/n. Your sleep schedule is bad enough as it is," Alfred urged, concern etched in his voice.
Y/n let out a weary sigh. "I guess I'll have to leave the Scarecrow for another time."
Y/n and Alfred made their way back up to Wayne Manor, Y/n gathering her belongings in preparation to depart. Despite her reluctance to leave her research behind, she knew that rest was necessary if she wanted to be at her best for the challenges that lay ahead. With one last glance at the Batcomputer, Y/n bid farewell to the Batcave, her mind already turning towards the mysteries that awaited her on her first day at Arkham.
-
Y/n's first day at Arkham Asylum began with a mix of anticipation and nervous energy. The towering, foreboding structure of the institution loomed against the gray skies of Gotham, its reputation preceding it.
Working at Arkham Asylum had always been a dream for Y/n, fueled by a deep fascination with the psychology of criminals. And there was no better place than Arkham. She was aware that Bruce had played a pivotal role in securing this internship for her, primarily to make it easier to access the criminals and their files. Yet, this knowledge did little to dampen her enthusiasm. In fact, she saw it as practical to use her role for the greater good, combining her academic interests with her goal to protect Gotham.
As she stepped through the heavy, security-laden doors, she was greeted by Dr. Penelope Young, one of Arkham's leading psychiatrists and her supervisor for the duration of the internship.
"Welcome to Arkham Asylum, Miss L/n. I'm Dr. Young. I'll be showing you around today and discussing what you can expect during your time here," Dr. Young said, offering a firm handshake that Y/n returned.
Their tour began in the more benign corridors of the asylum, where Dr. Young outlined the history of Arkham, its purpose, and its challenges. She spoke with a passion that contrasted the grim surroundings, her belief in rehabilitation and understanding of the human psyche evident in her every word.
"As you'll soon learn, Arkham is more than just a holding facility for Gotham's criminally insane. It's a place of complexity, where psychology and security intersect in ways you won't see anywhere else," Dr. Young explained as they navigated through secure checkpoints.
The tour included visits to various departments, including the high-security wards where Gotham's most notorious villains were held. Dr. Young's explanations were thorough, covering the protocols for dealing with dangerous inmates, the importance of mental health assessments, and the ongoing research aimed at better understanding and treating profound psychological disorders.
"Your role here, Miss L/n, will involve assisting with patient assessments, participating in therapy sessions, and contributing to our research projects. It's crucial work that not only helps us understand the minds of those we're treating but also aids in ensuring the safety of Gotham City," Dr. Young said, her tone serious yet encouraging.
As they concluded the tour in the library, filled with texts on psychology, criminology, and the history of Arkham itself, Dr. Young offered some final advice.
"Always remember, the work we do here is challenging and often thankless. But it's also incredibly important. You're going to see and experience things that will test you, but I believe you have the potential to make a real difference."
Y/n left the tour feeling a mixture of awe and trepidation. The weight of her responsibilities at Arkham Asylum was now fully realized, but so too was her determination to meet the challenges head-on. As she prepared for her first assignment, she couldn't help but feel that her journey into the heart of Gotham's darkness was only just beginning.
-
Patrolling the rooftops alongside Batman had become a familiar part of Y/n's night life, yet that particular night, her performance was far from her usual standard. Missteps, a lack of balance, and a series of other minor blunders affected her efforts. Aware of Bruce's patience, she nonetheless couldn't shake off the feeling that she was more of a liability than an asset to Batman during their late-night surveillance.
"Fuck, sorry," Y/n muttered, hastily picking herself up after her foot caught on an uneven crack on a rooftop in the Narrows.
Batman halted his advance, turning to face her with a concern that seemed to pierce through the shadows of his cowl. "You should head home, you need rest," he suggested.
Y/n's gaze dropped, a wave of embarrassment washing over her. She knew he was right, yet admitting it felt like conceding to a weakness she couldn't afford.
"You're exhausted. It's been a long day," Batman tried to reassure her, recognizing the toll the day's events had taken on her.
"I know, but I feel like I need to be here," Y/n insisted, her voice a mix of determination and frustration.
"Is this about the Scarecrow again?" Batman's question cut through the tension, his insight honing in on the heart of her persistence.
"...Yeah," Y/n admitted, a mix of resolve and vulnerability in her voice.
Her obsession with stopping Scarecrow had pushed her to her limits, yet she felt an unyielding need to confront the fear he spread across Gotham. In that moment, beneath the expanse of the night sky, her dedication to their cause was as clear as the weariness she fought against.
The Scarecrow was Y/n's first real challenge with one of Gotham's notorious Rogue's. Until now, her experiences had primarily involved run-ins with lesser-known criminals. Unmasking the Scarecrow, whose identity remained a mystery to all of Gotham, would be a monumental achievement for her.
"Why don't you hang back a bit? You can stay on the scene, but I'd rather you not engage in anything major," Batman suggested, his voice carrying a note of protective caution.
Y/n nodded in agreement. She decided to approach the situation with caution, opting for observation over direct confrontation. From her vantage point on a nearby rooftop, she kept a vigilant eye on the Narrows, tracking Batman's movements as he patrolled the shadowy labyrinth below. That's when she spotted him.
Quickly, she grabbed her radio to alert Batman. "Scarecrow spotted near the north apartments!" she reported, urgency lacing her voice.
As Batman sprang into action, heading towards the reported location, Y/n felt a surge of determination. She knew she couldn't just stand by. Moving with purpose, she leaped across rooftops, her movements a blend of precision and grace, as she closed in on the two. Her heart raced with a mix of excitement and fear, fully aware of the dangers that lay ahead yet driven by a deep-seated resolve to make a difference.
His pursuit was relentless, a testament to years of honing his skills for moments just like this. The Scarecrow, a master of terror and manipulation, darted ahead, his movements erratic and desperate, aware that the Dark Knight was closing in on him.
The Scarecrow, realizing the inevitability of his capture, turned to face Batman, a sinister smile playing across his lips, hidden beneath the grotesque mask that had become his signature.
In a swift movement, Scarecrow pulled from his tattered coat a small canister, unleashing a cloud of his fear toxin directly at Batman. The gas, a potent concoction of Scarecrow's own design, filled the air, a visible miasma of terror.
Batman, caught off-guard by the sudden assault, attempted to evade the cloud but inhaled a breath of the toxic fumes. The world around him twisted horrifyingly, his vision blurring as the gas took hold, plunging him into a nightmarish landscape of his own fears. Towering figures of his past adversaries loomed over him, their taunts echoing in his ears, while the loss of his parents replayed in agonizing detail, a never-ending cycle of pain and guilt.
Y/n's heart skipped a beat at the sight of Batman collapsing, overcome by the Scarecrow's fear toxin. Without hesitation, she reached out to Alfred through her radio.
"It's urgent. Batman's been incapacitated by Scarecrow's fear gas. You need to get him immediately," she relayed with urgency.
Without waiting for Alfred's confirmation, she sprung into action, her body moving almost on instinct. She descended from her vantage point into the alleyway below, her cape billowing behind her as she set her sights on the retreating figure of the Scarecrow.
"You just can't let it go, can you?" Scarecrow taunted, turning to hurl a canister of his sinister concoction in her direction.
The moment the toxin enveloped her, Y/n's reality twisted into a nightmarish tableau. She fell to the ground, a scream tearing from her lips as the shadows around her seemed to swell with judgment and scorn. But this was different, alongside the overwhelming fear, a heavy drowsiness dragged at her consciousness.
This was no ordinary fear toxin, she realized with a struggle to maintain her awareness. Her breaths came in labored gasps, each one a battle against the encroaching darkness. Her strength ebbed away, leaving her helpless on the cold, unforgiving ground of the alley. Her vision blurred, yet she could make out the Scarecrow's figure looming over her, his mask a grotesque visage that pulsated in her dimming sight.
As her field of view narrowed to a point, she saw Scarecrow bend down beside her, his hands reaching out to grasp her. Then, as if a curtain had fallen over her world, everything succumbed to darkness.
-
The throbbing in her head was the first sensation that pierced through the fog of unconsciousness, a relentless pounding that seemed to echo through her entire being. Gritting her teeth in discomfort, Y/n reached up, her fingers pressing into her temples in a futile attempt to sooth the pain. With her eyes still firmly shut, she sat up from the surface beneath her.
As she became more aware, her palm registered the unmistakable chill of metal against her skin. Hesitantly, she allowed her eyelids to part, squinting against the dim light that filled her unfamiliar surroundings. This place, cold, sterile, and decidedly unwelcoming, was far from the familiar confines of her home or the Batcave. Panic fluttered in her chest as the realization set in.
She found herself lying on a stark, metallic table, the centerpiece of what appeared to be a neglected laboratory. The air was thick with the scent of chemicals and decay, a testament to the room's dubious purposes. With a growing sense of dread, Y/n ran a hand through her hair, her movements halting as another alarming detail dawned on her, her mask was missing.
She took a sharp intake of breath as she frantically searched her surroundings, her heart racing. Though still clad in the protective gear of Batgirl, minus her utility belt, the absence of her mask left her exposed, vulnerable.
The sound of the door creaking open sent a jolt of adrenaline through her. She became tense, preparing for who might come through that door, her mind racing through possibilities and plans of escape.
As the door swung open, the Scarecrow stepped through, his presence immediately filling the room with a palpable sense of dread. His iconic, scratchy burlap mask seemed to leer at her, the tattered edges of his suit fluttering slightly with his movements. Y/n's heart sank, deep down, she'd known he would be her captor.
The realization of her vulnerability flashed through her mind, sparking a defiant glare, even as she attempted to shield her identity by casting her gaze downward.
"You needn't bother trying to hide now," Scarecrow's voice cut through the tense air, a smirk audible in his tone as he closed the distance between them. "I've seen all I need to see."
Acknowledging that hiding was no longer an option, Y/n understood that resistance might still sway the balance in her favor. With a burst of energy, she attempted to launch herself off the table, only to crumble to the ground, her legs betraying her strength.
"Easy, you've only just regained consciousness," Scarecrow taunted, his steps hastening towards her prone form.
In her struggle to stand back up, Scarecrow's hands suddenly steadied her, pulling her up with a firm grip on her arm. Yet, even in this vulnerable state, Y/n's resolve didn't falter. Her hand darted out, seizing a scalpel from a nearby table, and she held it towards Scarecrow, who instinctively raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. The air between them crackled with tension, each poised for the other's next move.
Scarecrow's voice was calm, yet firm. "You're hardly in a position to resist effectively. Let me help you back onto the table before you injure yourself further. The scalpel isn't necessary," he advised, his tone bordering on reasonable.
Y/n couldn’t help but notice how professionally he spoke.
"So you can subject me to more of your experiments? Yeah nah," she laughed, sarcastically.
Scarecrow, unfazed by her resistance, replied with a hint of a threat, "Whether you agree or not, you're in no condition to stand. It's only a matter of time before you collapse again."
She knew he was right. She could barely feel her legs, and the bits of sensation she did have was undeniable pain. With a reluctant sigh, Y/n let the scalpel clatter back onto the table.
Seeing her give in, Scarecrow lowered his hands and gently supported her around her waist, guiding her with a care that contrasted with his usual menace. He lifted her effortlessly, placing her back on the medical table with a carefulness that seemed out of character. Her legs dangled off the side, the height of the table leaving her feet dangling in the air, a subtle reminder of her current vulnerability.
"Why am I here?" Y/n demanded.
"Had I not intervened, you would be dead," Scarecrow replied.
"So, you hit me with your gas for shits and giggles? Or am I just another subject for your midnight experiments?" Y/n's tone was laced with anger.
"I never intended to expose you to the gas," Scarecrow clarified, moving to grab an item from a nearby table.
"And what? Your hand just slipped?" Y/n retaliated with sarcasm.
"I thought you were the Batman," Scarecrow confessed as he returned to her side.
"And how does that change anything?" Y/n challenged.
Ignoring her, he held a cup, what appeared to be cloudy water. Scarecrow pressed the cup into her hand.
"What's this?" Y/n asked, raising her brow.
"For your headache and numbed legs," Scarecrow responded.
Y/n eyed the cup warily, her skepticism evident. Scarecrow sighed, his voice distorted by his mask.
"If I intended harm, it would have been done already," he assured her.
"Then answer my question," Y/n pressed.
"What question?" Scarecrow responded quickly, playing the fool.
Y/n rolled her eyes. "Why does it matter that you gassed me if I work with Batman?"
Scarecrow remained silent, his gaze fixed on her. She returned his stare, peering into the depths of his blue eyes, an aspect she'd never noticed before, having never been this close to him without a fight.
"Why don’t you want to hurt me?" Y/n rephrased her question.
"Because I don’t want to," he replied simply.
Y/n's shoulders sagged in defeat as she took a sip from the cup, relieved to find it tasted just like water.
"What's your name?" Scarecrow's question caught her off guard.
Y/n shot him a judging glance. "Seriously? Are you dumb? Or do you think I am?"
Scarecrow chuckled, the sound crackled by his mask. "Your face isn't much of a secret now," he remarked.
"True, but a name would give away too much, wouldn't it? Besides, I doubt you'd share yours even if I asked," Y/n countered.
"Fair enough. Batgirl it remains," Scarecrow said.
Concern creased Y/n's brow as she broached the subject weighing on her mind. "So, what's your plan for me now?"
"You're not in any shape to leave just yet," Scarecrow observed.
"Okay, but when I am?" Y/n pressed.
Scarecrow hesitated. "I can't say for certain when that'll be," he admitted.
"You're the reason I'm drugged up…it was your toxin," Y/n pointed out.
"I didn't anticipate having to save anyone after using the gas," Scarecrow replied, his gaze drifting away.
Y/n sensed there was more to his reluctance than he let on. "Why won't you let me go?" she demanded.
"I told you—" Scarecrow began, but Y/n interjected firmly, "I want the real reason."
Scarecrow settled into a chair at a nearby desk.
"Aw, is the Scarecrow feeling lonely?" Y/n teased, her tone light despite the tension in the air.
Though she couldn't discern his expression behind the mask, she could practically feel the weight of his glare.
"Hey, if you keep up with that attitude, I might just have to pay you a visit in the Narrows," Y/n teased further, her words laden with playful defiance.
Y/n couldn't shake the uncertainty creeping into her mind. Was she really entertaining him with her banter?
"I suppose I'll have to hold you to that," Scarecrow retorted, his tone tinged with a hint of amusement.
Y/n couldn't believe what she was hearing. Did he actually want her to visit?
"...Batman must be worried about me," Y/n spoke aloud.
"You'd be correct. He's been searching the Narrows looking for you," Scarecrow confirmed.
She's now aware of their whereabouts. Somewhere in the Narrows, not entirely helpful, but better than nothing.
Relief washed over Y/n. "So he's okay then?" she asked anxiously.
"I only administered a small dose. He's perfectly fine," Scarecrow reassured her.
"Can I leave in about 10 minutes?" Y/n requested.
Scarecrow sighed. "Yes, but let me perform one final check first," he insisted.
He approached her. "Can you stand?"
Y/n noticed a tingling sensation in her legs, a welcome sign of returning strength. She gingerly hopped off the metal table, feeling Scarecrow's supportive grip immediately. Taking a moment to steady herself with his assistance, she eventually managed to push him away gently.
"Considering how quickly Batman bounced back, I'm sure he'll be able to assist you if you encounter any further issues," Scarecrow remarked.
"So, can I go?" Y/n inquired.
"Yes, but you'll be blindfolded," Scarecrow detailed.
Y/n watched as Scarecrow grabbed an unexpected item from his coat, her mask which she had completely forgotten about. She accepted it, placing it securely back on her face. Following this, he produced a blindfold, carefully tying it around her eyes.
"What about my utility belt?" she questioned.
"It's been left in the alley. I expect Batman has already located it with the tracker," Scarecrow informed her.
It made sense, had the belt been here, Batman would have pinpointed her location instantly due to its tracking device.
"Give me your hand," Scarecrow said.
Y/n reached out, feeling Scarecrow's grip. His hand was bare, contrasting with her gloved one, allowing her to feel the unique texture of his skin. Together, they navigated towards what Y/n presumed was the exit.
"Mind your step," Scarecrow instructed.
With extra caution, Y/n raised her foot higher than usual, stepping over what she imagined was the door frame. The sound of metal underfoot suggested they had transitioned onto a metallic grate.
"Coming up to some stairs," Scarecrow said.
As Scarecrow slightly descended, he guided Y/n to the first step. Clutching Scarecrow's hand for support, her free hand found a handrail. They carefully descended the staircase together.
"Last step," Scarecrow informed her.
Her feet found solid concrete below. They continued their journey outside, Y/n blind to their surroundings. After about ten minutes wandering the Narrows in silence, Scarecrow halted.
"I'm going to spin you so you won't know which direction we came from," Scarecrow explained.
Y/n snorted, "Feels like a weird game," she joked.
Gently, Scarecrow placed his hands on her shoulders and started to spin her. Y/n laughed, her steps becoming unsteady as she spun. Once she was sufficiently dizzy, Scarecrow ceased the spinning.
"Can I take off the blindfold now?" Y/n asked.
Scarecrow loosened the knot, freeing her from the blindfold. Blinking against the light, she surveyed her surroundings, her balance off from the spinning.
"I have no idea where I am," she admitted, scanning the area.
"That was the point," Scarecrow replied.
A small smile formed on her lips. "Hey, thanks for not killing me," she uttered, a phrase she never imagined saying.
"I apoligize for using the gas on you," Scarecrow said.
"I appreciate the apology...So! See you around?" Y/n tilted her head, looking at him.
Scarecrow seemed taken aback. "You aren't planning to tackling me to the ground for Batman?"
She shook her head.
"Then, yes... until next time, Batgirl," Scarecrow affirmed.
With that, Y/n walked away, the sound of her footsteps echoing in the alley. Glancing back one last time, she found he had vanished into the shadows.
As Y/n made her way towards the mouth of the alley, a familiar figure emerged from the shadows with a swift, purposeful stride. The figure's imposing silhouette was unmistakable against the dimly lit street. Batman, cloaked in his iconic cape, his gaze fixed intently ahead.
He approached Y/n, his presence commanding yet reassuring. "Where have you been?" Batman's voice, deep and grave.
Although aggressive, she knew it was his way of showing his concern.
Y/n sighed. "I'm fine, thanks! But I wouldn’t have been if not for an unexpected turn of events," she responded, her voice a mix of relief and bewilderment.
Batman surveyed the surroundings with a beading eye, then returned his attention to Y/n. "Scarecrow?" he asked, already piecing together the encounter from the clues left behind.
"Yep," Y/n confirmed.
Batman summoned the Batmobile with a press of a button, and it swiftly glided around the corner, halting with precision in front of them. "We'll discuss it on the way," Batman suggested, sliding into the driver's seat of the Batmobile.
Y/n quickly followed, hopping into the passenger seat. The top sealed shut with a soft hiss, and they set off toward the Batcave, the engine's low rumble filling the air.
"As soon as you were hit with the toxin, I ran after Scarecrow. I know you said not to but I couldn't just stand by," Y/n recounted. "He hit me with some kind of super version of his toxin... I blacked out and later woke up in his lab... He had saved my life," she reflected, still piecing together the surreal events.
"Scarecrow...saved you...after he was the one to endanger you..." Batman's voice betrayed a hint of skepticism.
"Exactly... He said he mistook me for you and used a more lethal toxin," Y/n clarified.
Batman mulled over the information, "This must be part of some elaborate scheme."
"...When I was unconscious, he took off my mask," Y/n added quietly, the weight of her vulnerability in that moment hanging between them.
"We can't change what's happened," Batman responded with an unexpected calm. "For now, you need to stay at the batcave."
Y/n understood the protective gesture, Batman was ensuring her safety. This meant her encounters with Scarecrow would be on hold, a disappointing, yet perhaps for the best, turn of events.
-
Upon their arrival at the Batcave, Bruce insisted on conducting his own check up of Y/n to ensure her well-being. As he meticulously checked her condition, Y/n found her thoughts drifting back to Scarecrow.
The lanky figure behind the coarse, burlap mask now intrigued her more than ever. Despite her efforts to thwart his plans and her alliance with Batman, Scarecrow had spared her life. His actions defied the logic that he should have seen her as a direct threat, deserving of his lethal wrath.
Throughout their encounters, Scarecrow had consistently avoided using his fear toxin on her, opting for less harmful methods. And on the one occasion he did administer it, he promptly provided an antidote and went as far as looking after her back at his lab.
What puzzled her further was his reluctance, or perhaps refusal, to let her leave. There seemed to be an underlying reason he didn't want her to go, adding layers to his already complex persona. This unexpected mercy and the mystery shrouding his true intentions only deepened Y/n's curiosity about the man beneath the mask.
-
Y/n's second week interning at Arkham was unfolding better than she'd anticipated. Tasked with interacting with the less dangerous patients, she found them peculiar yet unexpectedly sweet, a stark contrast to her initial assumptions. Each person, in their own right, contributed to the unique tapestry of Arkham's inhabitants.
Walking through the asylum's corridors on her way to Dr. Young's office with a stack of files in hand, Y/n was absorbed in her thoughts, hardly aware of her surroundings. This lack of attention led to a collision with a passerby, resulting in her files scattering across the floor.
"Shit, sorry," she blurted out, immediately kneeling to gather the scattered documents.
The individual she bumped into stood frozen, offering no assistance or reaction. Once she collected her files and stood up to face him, she found herself looking at a tall, slender man adorned with rectangular, wire-framed glasses, his expression one of bafflement.
"Sorry, I wasn't paying attention," she said, hoping to break the ice.
Yet, the man remained silent, his eyes wide and mouth slightly open, offering nothing but a fixed stare. With an awkward smile, Y/n excused herself, moving past him to continue on her way.
"Sorry, again... Have a good day," she added, before turning her focus forward and spotting Dr. Young near her office.
"Met Dr. Crane, have you?" Dr. Young asked, observing the scene.
Glancing back, Y/n saw the man, now identified as Dr. Crane, retreating hastily down the hallway.
"Apparently. He a quiet one?" Y/n asked, intrigued by the unusual man.
"Not at all," Dr. Young confided with a hint of amusement. "He's known for being quite outspoken and, frankly, a bit abrasive. But let's keep that between us."
Y/n let out a soft chuckle, appreciating the candid insight. Together, they proceeded into Dr. Young's office. As they delved into their tasks and discussions, the brief encounter with Dr. Crane swiftly faded from Y/n's mind.
-
Barely two hours had passed, with Y/n engrossed in her task of organizing files, when Dr. Young re-entered the office, fresh from her break.
"It seems you've caught the attention of Dr. Crane," Dr. Young remarked as she stepped inside.
Y/n glanced up, puzzled. "Huh?"
Dr. Young, settling into her chair with a chuckle. "Well, in the cafeteria, Dr. Crane cam up to me out of the blue to ask about you. Considering he never engages in conversation unless it's strictly necessary, that was quite the surprise!"
Curiosity piqued, Y/n continued, "What exactly did he ask about?"
"Just your name and your role here," Dr. Young replied with a smile.
The thought of garnering anyone's interest, let alone Dr. Crane's, hadn't crossed Y/n's mind. Yet, she brushed it off, doubting it would have any significant impact on her internship.
-
Back at her home, Y/n found herself sprawled on her bed, engulfed in the unfamiliar territory of idleness. With Bruce sidelining her from night patrols, the once exhilarating darkness of Gotham's nights now stretched endlessly before her, filled with nothing but the quiet.
Letting out a sigh, she flung her book aside, a tangible sign of her growing restlessness. Reluctantly, she rose and drifted towards her computer, where the glow of her screen illuminated tabs of research left untouched since yesterday. Though the news articles of Scarecrow she had found offered little in the way of breakthroughs, she held onto the hope they might yet yield something of value.
It was then that a sudden thud against her window broke the silence, startling her. Turning to look, she expected to find nothing more unusual than a disoriented bird that flew into it. However, the repeated thudding suggested this was no ordinary accident.
With a sigh, Y/n approached the window to investigate. A crow was the culprit, determinedly striking the glass over and over. Attempting to shoo it away with a tap against the window proved futile, the bird was either stubborn or really dumb. About to turn away in defeat, Y/n noticed something clutched in the crow's beak, she naturally had to investigate.
Concerned it might be choking, she opened the window to offer assistance. The crow, uninvited, hopped boldly into her room and onto her bed.
"Hey! You’re gonna get my shit all dirty!" Y/n protested, trying to usher it off.
Yet the crow remained unbothered, stationed firmly on her bed. With a curious tilt of its head, it released its hold, letting the object, a piece of paper, fall onto her duvet.
Realizing the crow was unharmed, Y/n let out a sigh. "Okay, you can leave now," she suggested, gesturing towards the open window.
However, the crow remained stationary, its gaze fixed on her as if it had more to say. They stared at one another awkwardly, the air between them thick with uncertainty. The crow nudged the piece of paper with its beak, then lifted its eyes to hers, prompting her attention.
Reluctantly, Y/n shifted her focus to the paper, curiosity getting the better of her. The paper was torn and foled. She unfolded the ripped fragment to reveal a message that sent a jolt of shock through her.
'Found you.'
The simplicity of the message belied its ominous intent, transforming her initial confusion into a wave of dread. "Holy fuck," she muttered, her pulse quickening.
As if its mission was accomplished, the crow took its leave, soaring out the window. Y/n raced to the window, a futile attempt to keep it from leaving. "Oi!"
But her plea vanished into the night, leaving her to face the silence of her room. The solitude that had once been merely boring now felt ominously oppressive.
How had Scarecrow found her? The question echoed in her mind, a reminder that her sense of security was more fragile than she had ever imagined.
Y/n wasted no time in dialing Bruce's number, her fingers trembling with anxiety as she waited for him to pick up. When he finally answered, she didn't bother with pleasantries.
"He found me," she blurted out in a tense whisper.
"Y/n? What are you talk-?" Bruce paused. “How?”
"I don't know how he did it, Bruce. There's no way he could have tracked me from that night," Y/n replied, her nerves palpable. “He sent his fucking pet crow, or something to my window with a little note saying he found me.”
"I think it would be safest for you to stay at my place for a while," Bruce suggested, his tone urgent.
"Yeah, but what if he figures out… you know?" Y/n's worry crept into her voice.
"Is there anywhere else you can go?" Bruce asked, his concern evident.
Y/n's mind raced, but she couldn't think of any safe alternatives. "Not really," she admitted reluctantly.
"Okay, just stay safe. I'll be checking up on you," Bruce instructed firmly.
"I'll do my best," Y/n sighed, feeling a sense of dread settle over her as the call ended.
She dropped her phone on her bed along with herself. Sitting on her bed, she ran her hand down her face groaning. She just prayed he was as nice as he was the night before.
-
The next day, Y/n felt a sense of unease as she walked through the corridors of Arkham towards Dr. Young's office. Upon entering, she was met not only by Dr. Young, but also by the presence of Dr. Crane.
"Good morning, Y/n. I'm sure you're acquainted with Dr. Crane by now," Dr. Young gestured towards the man in the room.
Y/n nodded awkwardly, turning her attention to Dr. Crane. "Hello, Dr. Crane," she greeted, extending her hand for a shake.
"Miss L/n," he replied, his voice crisp and professional as he took her hand.
There was something strangely familiar about his touch, though Y/n couldn't quite place it. Brushing it off as mere coincidence, she focused on the conversation at hand.
"Well, we've decided to switch things up a bit and provide you with more opportunities around the asylum. Today, Dr. Crane has kindly offered to mentor you instead of me," Dr. Young explained.
Y/n nodded, trying to maintain her composure. "Oh... cool," she replied, though her uncertainty lingered beneath the surface.
"My work primarily focuses on the higher-risk patients, so today I'll be showing you around those areas of the asylum," Dr. Crane explained, his hands clasped behind his back.
"Alright, shall we get started?" Y/n asked, eager to begin.
"Certainly," Dr. Crane replied, opening the door for Y/n to exit first. She thanked him and stepped into the hallway, where Dr. Crane joined her.
"So, Miss L/n, what led you to Arkham?" Dr. Crane inquired, initiating conversation.
"Well, I studied at Gotham University for five years and managed to get an internship here. It's an opportunity I couldn't pass up," Y/n replied.
Dr. Crane nodded, showing interest. "You're interested in psychology, I assume?"
"Naturally," Y/n confirmed.
"And outside of Arkham, how do you spend your time?" Dr. Crane asked, delving deeper.
Y/n wasn't prepared for such a personal question, and she found herself struggling to formulate an answer. In truth, much of her time was split between intensive research and her activities as a vigilante. "Uh... research mostly," she replied, keeping her answer vague.
"Any specific areas of focus?" Dr. Crane probed further.
"Primarily psychology-related topics, and occasionally delving into articles about various personalities in Gotham," Y/n answered, trying to keep her response casual.
"Ah, the Gotham Rogues, I presume? Have any in particular piqued your interest?" Dr. Crane inquired, his gaze lingering on her as they made their way towards the elevator.
Y/n had been informed by Dr. Young that small talk was rarely on Dr. Crane's agenda, suggesting his continuous questions might stem from a lack of social que. Yet, as a psychiatrist, his understanding of social dynamics should be adept, making his approach puzzling.
"Ah, well... each of them are interesting in their own way, to say the least," Y/n replied, deflecting deflecting to keep the conversation neutral.
Acknowledging her response with a nod, Dr. Crane diverted his eyes ahead, the silence momentarily enveloping them as they approached and entered the elevator. With a practiced motion, he swiped his keycard and selected their destination floor.
The elevator began its descent in silence, the hum of its mechanism filling the small space. Dr. Crane stood with a composed posture, hands clasped behind his back, while Y/n could feel the tension in the air, an undercurrent of unspoken thoughts swirling between them.
After a moment, Dr. Crane broke the silence. "The study of fear is particularly fascinating, don't you think?" he started, his tone measured, eyes fixed on the elevator doors as if addressing the question to himself. "It's primal, yet so complex. A fundamental emotion that can be both a hindrance and a survival mechanism."
Y/n, caught off guard by the sudden shift in conversation, nodded in agreement. "Yes, it's quite a paradox. It shapes so much of human behavior, yet we understand so little about its underpinnings."
The elevator dinged, announcing their arrival at the high-risk patient floor. As the doors slid open, Dr. Crane stepped out, gesturing for Y/n to follow. "Indeed. And it's within these walls that fear becomes a canvas, each patient painting their own portrait of terror."
The topic of their conversation enveloped Y/n in a sense of unease. While it was natural for a psychiatrist to delve into subjects like fear, given her recent unsettling situation, discussing it now stirred an unwelcome and deep-seated discomfort within her.
They walked through a secured door after Dr. Crane keyed in a code, entering a corridor lined with reinforced glass cells. The patients inside varied in their reactions to the newcomers, some pressed close to observe them, others retreated into shadows, and a few remained indifferent, lost in their own worlds.
"As you'll see today, our approach to treatment varies greatly, tailored to each patient's specific needs and... inclinations," Dr. Crane continued, leading Y/n past the cells. "Observation and understanding is key. Fear can be both a lock and a key in our field."
Y/n felt a chill run down her spine, not just from the atmosphere of the high-risk ward but from Dr. Crane's words. They echoed with a depth of knowledge and an intensity that felt almost too personal, as if fear itself was a familiar friend to him.
As they continued their tour, Y/n couldn't shake the feeling that Dr. Crane was studying her just as much as he was explaining the procedures and philosophies of Arkham Asylum. There was a calculated curiosity in his gaze, a probing quality that made her wonder what he saw when he looked at her.
Their footsteps echoed softly as they walked through the corridor, eventually halting in front of a door.
"This," he announced, ushering the door open with a gentle push, "is my office."
Crossing into the new space, Y/n found herself standing somewhat awkwardly, uncertain of what was to come next.
"I have a few patient appointments scheduled today. You'll have the opportunity to observe. But first, there are some reports I need to deal with. I imagine you have tasks of your own to do in the meantime?" he suggested.
With a nod from Y/n, he settled into his chair behind the desk, drawing out several files and a pen. As he began to write, Y/n couldn't help but observe him, a sense of déjà vu washing over her. There was an inexplicable familiarity in his presence that she couldn't quite identify.
Catching her gaze, he looked up, peering over his glasses. "Is there something on your mind?" he asked.
Y/n hesitated for a moment, considering her response carefully. She wasn't sure if she should bring up her recent encounter with the Scarecrow, especially given Dr. Crane's interest in fear and psychology. But something about his demeanor encouraged her to speak up. She cracked it down to the fact that he was around higher risk patients at arkham so he should understand.
Y/n hesitated for a moment, choosing her words carefully. She didn't want to alarm Dr. Crane or reveal too much about her involvement with Gotham's underworld.
"Well, actually..." she began, her voice measured. "I recently had a rather unusual encounter with someone who... operates outside the norms, let's say."
Dr. Crane raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "Go on," he prompted, leaning forward slightly.
"There's this... guy," she began, her voice thoughtful. "Who put me in a rather diffucult situation. But instead of leaving me in trouble, this guy… helped me. He claimed that his actions were never intended to inconvenience me, but rather someone else entirely. It's all rather confusing to me."
As she spoke, Dr. Crane listened attentively, his analytical gaze fixed on her. There was a calculating intensity in his eyes that sent a shiver down her spine, but she pushed past it, determined to convey the essence of her experience without divulging too much.
He leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers thoughtfully. “Why do you think he wouldn’t have helped you?” he asked.
“Well this... guy... well, he’s not exactly known for his generosity,” Y/n said, choosing her words carefully.
"I see," he murmured, his tone contemplative. "It seems you've had quite the... encounter."
Y/n nodded, relieved that she had managed to convey the situation without revealing too many details.
“Well... what about the situation confuses you?” he asked.
“The fact that he helped me, I just don’t understand it,” Y/n said.
“Had you encountered this individual prior to that?” Dr. Crane inquired.
“Yes, and he wasn’t particularly pleasant,” Y/n replied.
“Perhaps he had a change of heart, felt remorse... or maybe you interested him in some way,” Dr. Crane suggested.
Y/n recognized that Dr. Crane might not offer much assistance, especially since her account was far from the complete truth, but she valued his perspective.
“Yeah... maybe,” she said, considering his viewpoint.
-
The two appointments proceeded smoothly. The first patient was a paranoid individual, tormented by incessant fears of lurking threats in the shadows. As for the second patient was a woman struggling with intense anxiety and recurring nightmares. Dr. Crane navigated through their sessions with his calmness and precision, offering insightful observations and gentle guidance.
As the day progressed, Y/n found herself drawn into the complexities of the patients' minds, witnessing firsthand the challenges they faced and the therapeutic approaches employed by Dr. Crane.
By the end of the day, Y/n felt a newfound respect for Dr. Crane's expertise and a deeper curiosity about the human psyche.
Leaving Arkham, they boarded the Akrham train heading to the city center. "I trust today has been insightful for you," Dr. Crane remarked as they found their seats.
The clatter of the train tracks provided a rhythmic backdrop to their conversation as they settled into their seats. Y/n nodded, reflecting on the day's events. "Definitely," she replied. "It's given me a lot to think about."
Dr. Crane inclined his head, his gaze thoughtful. "Understanding the human mind is a continuous journey, filled with both challenges and revelations," he remarked. "But it's a journey worth undertaking."
Y/n nodded in agreement, absorbing his words. As the train rumbled on, she noticed that her stop was nearing.
"Thank you, Dr. Crane. You've been a really amazing mentor today," Y/n expressed her gratitude.
Dr. Crane nodded, acknowledging her gratitude. "You're welcome, Y/n. If you ever need any guidance or have any questions in the future, feel free to reach out," he said, his tone surprisingly warm.
As the train slowed to a stop at Y/n's station, she gathered her belongings and stood up. "I'll keep that in mind. Thank you again," she said, offering a polite smile before stepping off the train.
"Have a safe walk home," Dr. Crane bid farewell as the train doors slid shut.
As she walked away from the station, Y/n couldn't shake the feeling of curiosity about Dr. Crane. There was something intriguing about him, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. But for now, she pushed those thoughts aside and focused on the rest of her day ahead.
Alone in the dark, a wave of fear washed over her. Her home was just a ten-minute walk from the station, but after receiving that ominous message yesterday, she felt more uneasy than usual.
The usual nightly weirdos on the street didn't bother her much, no, it was the thought of encountering Scarecrow that sent shivers down her spine.
As she walked, a group of guys stepped out from a dark alley, eyeing her with leering grins. "Hey, sweetheart, looking for some company?" one of them called out, his tone dripping with sleaze.
Y/n rolled her eyes, unimpressed by their attempts to intimidate her. "Sorry, boys, not interested," she replied, quickening her pace.
As they closed in, Y/n sprang into action with lightning speed. In one fluid motion, she lunged towards the nearest assailant, her hands moving with precision. With a swift twist, she disarmed him, the weapon clattering to the ground with a metallic clang.
Before the others could react, Y/n hit him with calculated strikes, each one finding its mark with pinpoint accuracy. With each opponent she incapacitated, the threat diminished, until finally, all that remained was a pile of defeated adversaries at her feet.
Just as she thought the situation was under control, a familiar chill ran down her spine. The dim streetlight cast eerie shadows as Scarecrow emerged from the darkness, his silhouette looming ominously. Y/n's heart raced, her muscles tensing in anticipation.
The air seemed to thicken with tension as Scarecrow's gaze swept over the scene. She braced herself as the Scarecrow raised his hand, expecting the worst. Shielding her face, she awaited the inevitable assault, but instead, she heard screams erupting behind her.
Reluctantly lowering her arms, she turned to witness a man writhing on the ground, his cries echoing through the deserted street beside a discarded firearm. Her gaze snapped back to the Scarecrow, her eyes widening in astonishment.
"One missed," he remarked coolly.
“Scarecrow…” she uttered, caught between greeting him and still processing the situation.
“Y/n,” he acknowledged.
“So...you know my name now,” she remarked, her tone barely masking her worry.
“Would you prefer I call you Batgirl still?” he asked, sarcastically.
“I suppose there’s no point,” Y/n shrugged, conceding to the truth.
Observing him in the dimly lit street, she couldn't help but notice his eerie yet intriguing presence. “Nice suit,” she commented, attempting to break the tension.
“Thank you,” he replied courteously, his mask concealing any expression.
Despite his seemingly benign demeanor, she couldn't shake off her unease about his sudden appearance. “What are you doing here?” she probed cautiously.
“Making sure you got home safely,” he responded matter-of-factly.
“You’re following me?” she questioned, her suspicion growing palpable.
“Looks that way,” he confirmed, his voice protraying no hint of emotion.
“...I’ll be off then,” she stated, turning to head back home.
His footsteps echoed behind her, prompting her to halt and face him. “You’re still here?”
"You don’t think I was just going to leave,” he remarked.
“Then can you at least not stalk behind me?” Y/n requested, her tone surprisingly composed despite her lingering unease.
Closing the distance between them, he fell into step beside her. “You know Batman might find you,” she warned.
“Not tonight, I saw him off chasing the Penguin,” he assured her.
Y/n looked ahead, contemplating their unusual companionship. “So… are you going to hurt me?” she questioned, her voice hinting her vulnerability.
“I didn’t hurt you before, why would I now?” he countered.
“Well, why else are you here?” she pressed, her curiosity piqued.
“It was you that said you’d ‘see me around’,” Scarecrow reminded her.
She recalled their earlier exchange, surprised that he remembered. “I didn’t think you’d remember… or care,” she admitted.
They lapsed into silence for a moment before Y/n broke it. “How did you find me?” she asked the question that was weighing on her mind since she got the note.
“It was coincidence,” Scarecrow replied cryptically.
“Seriously! That's all?” Y/n protested.
“I saw you... and gaining access to you was a simple matter after that,” he explained.
Y/n paused, contemplating the implications of his words.
“Wait, so you mean to say... Did I see you around?” Y/n's curiosity peaked.
Scarecrow's silence spoke volumes, confirming her suspicions. Y/n's mind raced, attempting to pinpoint any instance where she could have crossed paths with Scarecrow during the day, but nothing came to mind.
"You're annoying, you know that? Why can't you just tell me who you are?" Y/n pressed, frustration lacing her words.
"And give you the chance to share with your caped crusader? I think not," Scarecrow retorted with a hint of amusement in his distorted voice.
Y/n scowled, "This is bullshit. What kind of friend are you?"
"Friend?" Scarecrow echoed, a note of mock surprise in his tone.
Realizing she had referred to him as a friend, Y/n hesitated, "Well… I don’t know."
"Considering me a friend? That's rather... optimistic of you," Scarecrow jested.
"You know what? Fuck you," Y/n snapped, pushing him away in annoyance.
Scarecrow's laughter, distorted and chilling, filled the air.
"About that crow yesterday..." Y/n shifted the topic.
"Ah, yes, Craw," Scarecrow interjected.
"Craw... you named your bird after the sound it makes? What are you, five?" Y/n couldn't help but mock his choice.
"Feeling particularly bitey today, aren't we?" Scarecrow remarked with a hint of amusement.
"I'm just pointing out the obvious. You could have called him anything and you settled on 'Craw'? It's like naming a cat 'Meow' or a dog ‘Woof’," Y/n countered.
"I doubt your question was solely to critique my naming choices," Scarecrow deflected, steering the conversation forward.
"So, you have a trained crow... cool," Y/n conceded.
With a snap of his fingers, Scarecrow summoned the crow, which gracefully swooped down to perch on his shoulder.
"Fuck, that’s impressive," Y/n admitted, genuinely taken aback.
"He's a good companion," Scarecrow acknowledged, affectionately caressing the crow's feathered chest.
"And yet, when I mention friendship, I'm desperate?" Y/n teased with a scoff.
"I'm merely taken aback... You haven't even tried to call Batman on me yet," Scarecrow observed.
"Well, if he can have his criminal friend, I don't see why I shouldn't either," Y/n reasoned, thinking about Bruces weird thing with Catwomen.
"It only seems fair," Scarecrow conceded with a nod.
As they approached her apartment complex, Y/n paused and faced Scarecrow.
"I guess this is where I leave you," she remarked, a hint of reluctance in her tone as she gestured towards the looming building of her apartment complex.
Scarecrow tilted his head slightly, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer than usual. "Seems so. You'll be safe here, I presume?"
Y/n couldn't help but feel a pang of irony at the question, considering who it was coming from. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Thanks for helping me back there," she quipped, offering him a small, genuine smile.
Scarecrow nodded once, sharply, as if dismissing any need for gratitude. "Take care, Y/n."
With those parting words, he turned and disappeared into the shadows from where he came, leaving Y/n to stare after him for a long moment. Shaking her head slightly, as if to clear it from the surreal encounter, she turned and headed towards her apartment, her mind swirling with thoughts about the night's events and the enigmatic figure that had just left her side.
-
The anticipation for her next encounter with Scarecrow had always been tinged with impatience, but now, there was a distinct shift in her desires. Gone was the sole focus on capturing him, instead, she found herself wanting to talk, even hang out with the guy.
Wandering the corridors of Arkham, her thoughts were abruptly interrupted by an exasperated shout not far from her location. “Damn bird!” echoed off the sterile walls.
Curious, Y/n turned on her heel to investigate. A large bird flying through the hallway, causing a commotion. But this was no ordinary crow, as it swooped closer, she recognized it instantly. Craw, Scarecrow's supposed good companion.
As the crow landed gracefully before her, Y/n crouched down, gently scooping him up. The security guard, panting from the chase, approached with a look of annoyance plastered across his face.
“Stupid bird,” he muttered, reaching out to snatch Craw away.
Y/n, cradling the crow protectively, assured him, “It's fine, I've got this. I'll make sure he's put outside.”
The guard, too worn out to argue further, simply shrugged and departed. Alone now, Y/n shifted her focus to Craw, who seemed quite content in her grasp.
Noticing a piece of paper held in his beak, she gently grabbed it, speaking softly to the crow, “Hey there, pretty. How did you manage to find me here?”
Placing Craw on her shoulder, she unfolded the note.
‘I’ll see you tonight.’
A smile unknowingly crept across her face as she read the message. Shortly after, Craw took flight from her shoulder, darting down the corridor.
“No! Craw, I need to take you outside!” she called after him, her plea falling on deaf ears.
With a resigned sigh, she watched him disappear deeper into the Asylum. “Well, he's someone else's problem now.”
Despite the mild chaos, the note clutched in her hand warmed her heart, igniting a flutter of excitement for what the evening might bring.
-
The walk home felt different for Y/n this evening. Each shadow cast by the dim streetlights seemed to promise the appearance of Scarecrow, echoing his note that said they would meet again. With every step, her anticipation grew, turning each corner with a mix of eagerness and anxiety, expecting to find him waiting in the familiar alley where their paths often crossed. But tonight, the alley remained empty.
The silence of the alleyway, usually filled with the tension of their encounters, now hung heavy with disappointment. She lingered for a moment, scanning the shadows and empty spaces where he might have stood, half-hoping for the rustle of his coat or the soft click of his approach. But there was nothing. Just the quiet of the night and the distant hum of the city.
As she continued her walk home, the excitement that had quickened her steps faded into a dull ache of letdown. Thoughts raced through her mind, pondering why he hadn't appeared. Had something happened to him? Had Batman managed to intervene?
Reaching her apartment, Y/n couldn't shake the sense of solitude that enveloped her. Inside, the quiet of her home only amplified her disappointment. With a heavy sigh, Y/n resigned herself to the evening's solitude, dropping onto her bed.
As she lay in the quiet of her room, Y/n found herself wrestling with thoughts that mocked her for entertaining the idea of a friendship with someone as complex and dangerous as Scarecrow. How could she, grounded in her own principles and duties, truly expect to build a connection with a figure who thrived in the shadows, a master of fear?
Her thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a thump against her window. Startled, she glanced up, only to find the familiar silhouette of a crow striking the glass. Hurrying over, she opened the window, allowing Craw to flutter into the room. Peering out the window, her pulse quickened at the sight below.
Scarecrow stood on the ground, gazing up at her with his usual get-up.
"May I come up?" his voice floated up to her.
Without hesitation, she swung onto the fire escape, releasing the ladder for him. As he ascended, a mixture of surprise and anticipation filled her.
"Why are you here?" she inquired, as he stepped through the window into her room.
"I said I'd see you tonight," he replied.
"I thought you’d just walk me home," she admitted, a smile playing on her lips despite herself.
"Indeed, I intended to, but I was held up," Scarecrow said, his voice carrying a touch of regret.
Inside her room, with the city's night as their backdrop, she couldn't help but jest, "So, the man behind the mask has a life?"
Scarecrow chuckled below the mask, “That I do.”
Now settled in her room, Y/n found a comfortable spot on her bed, her back resting gently against the headboard.
With a curious tilt of her head, she ventured, "Could I possibly hear more about the man beneath the mask?"
He hesitated for a moment before answering, "I was caught up at work, actual work, something that required my immediate attention."
This prompted Y/n to recall her little interaction with his crow eariler. "Speaking of work, how did you manage to send Craw into Arkham?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Let's just say he found his way through a window," he replied,criptically.
Scarecrow chose a spot at the foot of her bed, directly opposite her, and gracefully seated himself. Craw saw it as an opportunity to hopped onto his thigh, finding comfort in his familiar presence.
As they sat in Y/n's room, the silence between them was palpable. Y/n couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions. Curiosity, apprehension, and a strange sense of comfort in Scarecrow's presence. She studied him closely, trying to decipher the man, but his expression remained hidden.
"So, what really brings you here tonight?" Y/n finally broke the silence, her voice betraying a hint of nervousness.
Scarecrow glanced at her, his gaze piercing. "I wanted to check on you," he replied simply.
Y/n raised an eyebrow, skeptical of his intentions. "Check on me?" she echoed, searching his face for any hint of deception.
"Yes," Scarecrow affirmed, his tone unwavering. "After our encounter the other night, I thought I should make sure you're okay."
Y/n's initial skepticism softened slightly, replaced by a flicker of surprise. Despite their strange relationship, Scarecrow's concern for her well-being was unexpected.
"I'm fine," Y/n reassured him, offering a small smile. "But why go through the trouble? You're not exactly known for your kindness."
Scarecrow's lips quirked into a faint smile, the gesture almost imperceptible. "Perhaps I'm not as one-dimensional as you think," he remarked.
Y/n's curiosity piqued at his response, but before she could delve further, there was a sudden knock on her apartment door.
“Y/n? I called you but you didn’t answer,” it was Bruce.
The sudden interruption sent Y/n's heart racing, a surge of panic flooding her as she heard Bruce's voice through the door. She momentarily froze, realizing the difficult situation she was in. Glancing frantically at Scarecrow, she leaped into action, her movements swift and desperate.
"Under the bed, now!" she hissed, urgency lacing her whisper as she practically shoved Scarecrow towards the hiding spot.
Without hesitation, Scarecrow complied, slipping under the bed. No sooner had he vanished from sight than Y/n dashed to the apartment's entrance, her mind racing with excuses.
"Hey, Bruce, sorry about that. My phone's been on silent, what’s up?" she managed to say with a feigned nonchalance as she swung the door open, greeting him with a practiced casualness.
"I said I'd swing by to check on you. Everything's been okay lately?" Bruce asked, stepping past the threshold with a concerned glance.
"Yep, all good here," Y/n replied, her voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through her veins.
Y/n found herself desperately seeking a solution that wouldn't raise Bruce's suspicions, yet every moment he lingered increased the risk of Scarecrow's presence unmasking Bruce's own secret identity. Trapped between a rock and a hard place, she was at a loss, her mind racing for a strategy that seemed increasingly elusive.
Then, an ominous thump from her bedroom shattered the tense silence, causing her heart to plummet into her stomach.
"What was that?" Bruce's voice sharpened with alertness, his instinctive concern prompting him to move toward the source of the sound.
Y/n's anxiety reached it’s limits until, unexpectedly, a voice came from her bedroom. "Y/n? Who's at the door?" It was unmistakably Scarecrow, yet his voice was stripped of its usual menacing distortion, sounding disarmingly normal.
Panic painted Y/n's face with a stark shade of horror, a silent scream at the realization of her rapidly unraveling situation. However, Bruce's reaction took a turn Y/n hadn't anticipated. His expression, initially furrowed with concern, smoothly transitioned into an amused smirk.
"I didn't realize you had company. I'll leave you to your...guest," he said, his voice laced with an uncharacteristic lightness.
In that moment, Y/n's dread shifted to a baffling sense of relief to mild embarrassment. The flush of embarrassment that crept up Y/n's cheeks. The implication in Bruce's assumption that her "guest" was there for reasons more intimate was mortifying, yet it was a far more palatable scenario than him suspecting the presence of a notorious criminal in her bedroom.
"U-uh, yeah, sorry," she managed, her voice a mix of awkwardness and gratitude as she escorted Bruce to the door.
Pausing at the threshold, Bruce turned back to her, his expression lightly amused. "Have a good night," he said, his voice carrying a hint of jest before he delivered a playful wink and departed.
As Y/n closed the door behind him, a wave of relief washed over her, tinged with a lingering embarrassment. As Y/n reentered her bedroom, her gaze fell upon Craw, who had perched on the shelf by her door.
"Are you still hiding under my bed?" she asked, her knees pressing against the cool floor as she peered under the bed.
There he was, Scarecrow, his frame stretched out beneath her bed, an unexpected sight that was oddly endearing. "Yeah," came his muffled reply.
"It's safe to come out now," she assured him, her voice lifting with a mix of relief and warmth.
As Scarecrow emerged, his presence seemed to fill the room. "What was that thumping sound?" she asked, genuinely puzzled.
"Craw decided the door looked interesting," Scarecrow quipped, a hint of affection for the mischief-maker in his tone.
Y/n's eyes darted to Craw, her expression one of mock frustration. "You bloody bird!" she growled, though the crow seemed preoccupied with scratching his wing with his beak.
"And thank you, by the way. My heart nearly stopped when he headed towards my room," she admitted, her hands finding their way to her hips.
"Who was that, if I may ask?" Scarecrow's curiosity was evident, his head tilted.
"A friend," she answered simply.
"Just a friend?" he probed further, an edge of something playful in his voice.
"Jealous?" Y/n teased, a light chuckle escaping her.
"Should I be?" he parried, his voice laced with amusement.
Y/n's laughter filled the room, a sound of genuine amusement. "Bruce is just a friend. Though now he probably thinks I've got a secret lover stashed in here," she said, the humor in her situation not lost on her.
"Bruce? As in-" Scarecrow started, only for Y/n to jump in.
"Bruce Wayne? Yes," she confirmed, closing the loop on his thought.
"I would've expected the Batman, not Bruce Wayne," he mused, his voice carrying a note of mock disappointment.
"Batman wouldn’t bother with the front door, that’s for sure," Y/n laughed.
Y/n chuckled, her fingers idly tracing patterns on her bedspread. "So, did you... you know, take off the mask when you called out?" she asked.
Scarecrow's response was matter-of-fact. "Well, yeah. I don’t know if you can tell, but my voice isn’t naturally distorted," he pointed out.
Y/n's playful pout betrayed her teasing tone. "That's not fair! My room got to see your face before I did!" she exclaimed, feigning offense.
"Your room is quite the lucky spectator," he remarked, his tone filled with amusement.
"I bet you won’t show me cause you’re insecure," Y/n teased with a playful glint in her eye.
Scarecrow tilted his head. "Or perhaps I prefer the mystery. Keeps things interesting, doesn't it?" His voice was muffled slightly by the fabric covering his features.
Y/n laughed, shaking her head. "Interesting for you, maybe. I'm just sitting here guessing if you're secretly a model or if you've got a face only a mother could love."
"Guess you'll just have to keep wondering," he replied.
The room fell into a comfortable silence, filled only by the soft rustling of Craw shifting on his perch. Y/n found herself studying Scarecrow, trying to glean any hint of the man behind the mask from his posture, his movements, even the way he spoke. There was an undeniable curiosity bubbling within her, a desire to know more about the mysterious figure who'd become an unexpected constant in her life.
As the night wore on, their conversation flowed, ranging from trivial banter to more serious discussions about their contrasting views of the city they both operated in. Despite their differences, Y/n felt a strange sense of kinship with Scarecrow, a connection forged in the unlikeliest of circumstances.
Eventually, Y/n yawned, the lateness of the hour catching up to her. Scarecrow noticed, standing up from where he had been sitting. "I should go," he said, his voice carrying a note of reluctance.
Y/n nodded, feeling an unexpected twinge of disappointment at the thought of him leaving. "Yeah, I guess it's getting late."
As Scarecrow moved toward the window, Y/n called out, "Will I see you again?"
He paused at the window, turning slightly to look at her. "I'm sure you will," he said, a hint of a smile in his voice.
And with that, he slipped out into the night with Craw flying after him, leaving Y/n with a mix of emotions and the lingering thrill of their conversation.
-
After two calm weeks, Bruce finally agreed to Y/n resuming her nightly endeavors alongside him. Although he harbored lingering doubts about Scarecrow, Y/n managed to clam his concerns, assuring him that Scarecrow would not pose a threat.
As Y/n and Batman moved stealthily through the Narrows, the dense fog seemed to cloak their presence further, blending them into the night. This part of Gotham, with its tight alleys and towering buildings, felt like a world entirely its own.
"Keep your guard up," Batman whispered, his voice barely carrying over the mist. "The Narrows are unpredictable."
Y/n nodded, her senses on high alert. The Narrows always had a way of keeping you on your toes, its residents too used to the shadows. But tonight, there was an odd stillness, as if the very air was holding its breath.
Suddenly, Batman stiffened, his head tilting slightly, the universal sign that he was receiving a communication through the cowl's integrated comms. Y/n watched him, waiting for instructions, knowing that whatever had just come through could very well dictate their next move.
After a moment, Batman turned to her, the glow from the city behind him casting a shadow over his face. "Riddler's causing trouble downtown. I need to go now."
"I'll stay here. Keep an eye on things," she offered, already mentally preparing to handle the Narrows alone.
Batman nodded, a silent message of trust and confidence in her abilities. "Be careful," he said before grappling away, disappearing into the night sky.
Alone now, Y/n felt the weight of the silence around her. The Narrows, with its whispering shadows and secrets, suddenly seemed even more foreboding. She took a deep breath, centering herself. This was her domain too, her responsibility.
"Thought he’d never leave," came a voice below her, drawing her attention downward.
As Y/n leaned over the edge of the rooftop. To her surprise, Scarecrow stood on the balcony below, his figure illuminated by the faint glow of the city lights.
"You've been here the whole time?" Y/n exclaimed, taken aback by his sudden appearance.
"I've been waiting inside. The place was abandoned," Scarecrow replied calmly, gesturing towards the building behind him.
Y/n hopped down from the rooftop, landing gracefully on the balcony beside him.
"Wow, Batman and I need to step up our game," she remarked, impressed by Scarecrow's stealth.
"Haven’t seen you as Batgirl in a while," Scarecrow noted, his gaze lingering on her.
"Yeah, thanks to you. I was sidelined. Batman thought you were gonna go after me," Y/n explained, a hint of frustration in her voice.
"Keeping you safe. Wise man," Scarecrow replied cryptically, a faint smirk playing on his lips.
Y/n chuckled, shaking her head. "More like overprotective," she whined.
Y/n could hear Scarecrow smirk behind the mask. "He has reason to be. You're not exactly easy to replace."
Y/n rolled her eyes playfully. "Flattery will get you nowhere," she teased.
"Where's Craw?" Y/n asked, looking around.
"Is my presence not enough for you?" Scarecrow teased.
Y/n side-eyed him, and Scarecrow chuckled. "He's back at my lab."
Scarecrow leaned against the balcony railing, his gaze scanning the darkened streets below. "So, what's the plan now? Are you patrolling solo?"
Y/n nodded. "Looks like it. Batman got called away to deal with Riddler downtown."
Scarecrow hummed in response. "Well then, I guess it's just you and me tonight."
Y/n raised an eyebrow, a hint of skepticism in her expression. "You planning on causing any trouble?"
Scarecrow chuckled, shaking his head. "Not tonight."
They fell into an easy silence, the sounds of the city filling the air around them. Despite the darkness that surrounded them, Y/n couldn't help but feel a sense of camaraderie with Scarecrow, an unexpected ally in the night.
Y/n cast a sidelong glance at Scarecrow, noting the unusual cleanliness of his attire. "Not the usual tattered suit?" she pointed out.
Scarecrow glanced down at his suit. "Well, one has to look clean to impress," he replied, glazing at her.
"I'm sure Batman doesn't mind how you look," Y/n quipped, a playful glint in her eye.
Y/n leaned her back against the balcony railing, her gaze meeting Scarecrow's with a hint of mischief.
"Although, I must admit, the rugged look suits you," she teased, a sly smile playing on her lips.
Scarecrow chuckled softly, his gaze meeting hers with a spark of amusement. "Is that so? Perhaps I should stick to the tattered aesthetic then," he countered, his tone laced with flirtatiousness.
Y/n's laughter rang out across the night sky, the sound mixing with the distant hum of the city below. "You do you, Scarecrow. Just don't expect me to swoon over every torn thread," she replied, a playful glimmer dancing in her eyes.
Scarecrow leaned in slightly, his voice lowering to a whisper. "Ah, but what if I told you I have a whole wardrobe of tattered suits just waiting to impress you?"
Y/n chuckled, her heart fluttering at the playful tone in Scarecrow's voice. "Just for me? Scandalous.”
"Well, if torn threads won't do the trick, I'll have to find another way to catch your eye." Scarecrow added.
Y/n raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a mischievous grin. "Oh? And what approach are you planning to take?"
He leaned in even closer, his gaze locking with hers. "I suppose I'll have to rely on my charming wit and irresistible charm," he replied, his tone filled with playful confidence.
Y/n chuckled, the sound light and melodious in the night air. "Smooth talker, are we?" she teased, her own playful demeanor matching his.
Scarecrow's grin widened, a glint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Only when I'm in good company," he admitted, his voice softening slightly as he held her gaze.
Y/n's cheeks flushed at his words, her gaze lingering on his captivating eyes. "You certainly know how to flatter a girl," she teased, unable to suppress the flutter of excitement building within her.
Scarecrow chuckled softly, the sound sending a thrill through Y/n. "Only because you make it so easy," he murmured, his gaze holding hers with an intensity that left her breathless.
"If I weren't on duty, I might have been tempted to steal a kiss from you right here," she teased, her fingers playfully tugging at his noose.
With a wink, she turned on her heel and disappeared into the abandoned apartment, leaving Scarecrow to ponder her words.
"You never know, the night is young," he remarked, his voice laced with playful innuendo.
"Oh, but I could never kiss a man whose face I've never seen," Y/n remarked.
"Oh, but the mystery adds to the allure, don't you think?" Scarecrow countered.
Scarecrow chuckled, the sound echoing in the dimly lit room. "Who says you haven't seen it before?"
Y/n halted in her tracks, her eyes widening in surprise as she turned back to face him.
"So, I have actually seen you before?" she asked eagerly.
Scarecrow nodded, a hint of amusement in his demeanor. "Yes, indeed," he confirmed.
Her excitement grew, and she leaned in closer. "Did we talk?" she pressed.
"We did," he replied, a slight smirk playing at the corners of his lips.
Her disbelief turned into sheer astonishment. "Oh my god! Seriously? Can you tell me more?" she exclaimed.
"We had quite a conversation, and we crossed paths a few times afterward," Scarecrow disclosed.
Y/n racked her brain, trying to recall any details, but she was drawing a blank. Feeling frustrated and a little foolish for not making the connection, she sighed. Despite now knowing what he sounded like without the mask, she still couldn't piece it together.
"Holy fuck! That's incredible!" Y/n exclaimed, laughter bubbling up from within her. "Can you give me just a tiny hint about what you look like?" Y/n pleaded.
"Sorry, but that would spoil the fun," Scarecrow replied.
Y/n persisted, "Well, do you at least know if I find you attractive?"
"Why do you want to know that?" Scarecrow questioned.
"Because it might have to kiss you after all," Y/n teased.
Scarecrow considered her words before responding, "...I don’t know. You didn't seem particularly impressed when you saw me, you were just a bit awkward at first. But to be fair, so was I."
There was a hint of vulnerability in his tone, though Y/n couldn't be sure. "Perhaps my awkwardness was due to the fact I was starstruck?" she offered playfully.
Scarecrow sounded unconvinced. "Unlikely," he countered gently.
"Or… could it be because my attention was already captivated by someone else? Maybe a certain Scarecrow?" Y/n teased, aiming to lighten his spirits.
Scarecrow's demeanor shifted, his voice tinged with defensiveness. "Why the sudden interest, Batgirl? You've never shown any feelings towards me before. What's changed?" he asked.
Y/n found herself confused by the unfolding situation. When had she begun to flirt with Scarecrow, and why was she so invested in making him believe she was romantically interested? Whenever this change occurred, she didn’t mind it.
"Woah. You started this, and don't act as if you weren't flirting with me too," Y/n retorted.
Scarecrow's tone never softened, his eyes narrowing as he studied Y/n's face. "And if I was? What are your intentions, Y/n?" he asked.
"I don’t know! I was just bantering, playing along… what were your intentions then? How do I know you're not just leading me on so you can gas me again?" Y/n retorted, turning the tables on him.
This clearly offended Scarecrow. "You know it was an accident."
"Do I?" Y/n challenged.
Scarecrow's expression softened, a hint of regret in his eyes. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he said quietly.
Y/n felt a pang of sympathy. "I know," she replied softly.
They stood in silence for a moment, the weight of their conversation hanging in the air. Eventually, Y/n spoke up again. "Look, I didn't mean to upset you."
"Look, I didn't mean to upset you," Y/n said, her tone sincere.
Scarecrow took a deep breath, visible even through his attire. "And I apologize if I seemed defensive. It wasn't my intention."
Their eyes met, an unspoken understanding passing between them. Both were treading uncharted waters, neither sure of where the current would take them but willing to navigate it together.
"So, I've been meaning to ask," Y/n began, again with the playfulness in her voice, "do you wear contacts?"
Scarecrow tilted his head slightly, "Prescription ones, yes."
"But not colored?" she probed further.
"No, why do you ask?" Scarecrow's response carried a mix of curiosity and amusement.
Y/n's tone softened, warmth seeping into her words, "It's just that... you have really pretty eyes."
"Again with the flattery?" Scarecrow teased.
"It's just the truth," Y/n replied with a grin.
"And here I was thinking I might get a kiss," Scarecrow joked.
Y/n chuckled, shaking her head, "I told you, I’m not going to kiss a man I don’t know."
Scarecrow shrugged, a playful glint in his eyes, "That’s a shame."
The distant wail of sirens interrupted their banter.
"I should probably leave now," Scarecrow remarked.
"Yeah… see you later?" Y/n said, a hopeful note in her voice.
"Count on it. Until then... See you at Arkham," Scarecrow said, disappearing into the night.
Y/n's mind raced to piece together the puzzle he had inadvertently presented her. It took a moment for the realization to sink in, but when it did, her heart skipped a beat.
"Wait a minute!" she called out, but it was futile, Scarecrow was already gone.
Her mind buzzed with newfound clarity. Tall, lanky, formal speech, glasses, and now, a connection to Arkham. It all clicked into place with a sudden jolt of realization. How had she not seen it before?
"Holy fuck," Y/n breathed, her pulse quickening.
The pieces of the puzzle were finally falling into place, revealing a truth she couldn't ignore. Scarecrow... was someone from Arkham. And in that moment, a single name echoed in her mind with chilling clarity.
The conversations they'd shared, the topics they'd discussed, all pointed to one undeniable truth. His fascination with fear, his strange approach to their encounters, it was all too familiar now.
The memory of their first meeting flooded back, and suddenly, it made perfect sense. The shock on his face, the careful choice of words. It was Dr. Crane, right before her eyes.
Y/n couldn't believe she hadn't seen it sooner. How had she missed the signs? How had she not recognized the man behind the mask all along?
Now faced with this newfound knowledge, Y/n was at a crossroads. Should she maintain the facade of ignorance, carrying on as if nothing had changed? Or should she confront Dr. Crane, acknowledging the truth that lay between them? And what about the promise she'd made, the playful banter about kissing him. Was it all just a game, or did it hold deeper significance now?
One thing was certain, she couldn't risk revealing her discovery to Bruce. As she grappled with these thoughts, Y/n resolved to tread carefully, to navigate this delicate situation with caution. The truth had been revealed, but its aftermath remained to be seen.
-
Throughout the morning, Y/n felt restless as she awaited her encounter with Dr. Crane. Stuck in Dr. Young's office sorting files, she impatiently waited for the opportunity to find him.
As soon as she finished with the files, Y/n swiftly stored them away and left the office, determined to seek out Dr. Crane in the secure section of Arkham.
As Y/n made her way through the corridors of Arkham, her mind raced with anticipation. She had been waiting for this moment, hoping to confront Dr. Crane. Suddenly, she spotted him in the distance, his figure unmistakable amidst the gloom. Their eyes locked, and she saw a hint of amusement in his expression, as if he knew she was coming.
Her heart skipped a beat. Feeling a surge of determination, Y/n hastened her steps, closing the gap between them with purpose. As she reached Dr. Crane, she grabbed his arm firmly, surprising him with her sudden boldness. His smirk widened slightly, betraying a mixture of surprise and curiosity at her actions.
Without uttering a word, Y/n tugged him along, leading him towards his office. Dr. Crane offered little resistance, seemingly taken aback by Y/n's assertiveness. As they entered the office, Y/n swiftly closed the door behind them and turned the key in the lock, sealing them inside.
"You sly motherfucker," Y/n breathed out.
Entwining her fingers in his hair, she drew him closer, her lips crashing against his in a fiery embrace. The kiss ignited a whirlwind of emotions, fueled by pent-up desire and the thrill of discovery.
Caught off guard by Y/n's sudden boldness, Dr. Crane hesitated for a moment before surrendering to the intoxicating allure of her kiss. His hands found their way to her waist, pulling her closer as the intensity of the moment enveloped them both.
For a fleeting moment, the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in their own private universe of passion and longing. But as the kiss deepened, an obnoxious buzz interrupted the moment, reminding them of their surroundings.
Reluctantly breaking the kiss, Y/n and Dr. Crane gazed into each other's eyes, a mixture of surprise and desire reflected in their expressions.
"I... I didn't expect..." Dr. Crane began, his voice trailing off as he struggled to find the right words.
Y/n's heart raced as she searched his eyes for any sign of regret or hesitation. But instead, she found a spark of something else, a glimmer of longing and vulnerability that mirrored her own.
"I'm sorry," Y/n whispered, her voice barely above a breath. "I just couldn't resist."
She noticed a blush creeping up Dr. Crane’s cheeks as he adjusted his glasses.
"Am I fogging up your glasses?" Y/n teased.
Dr. Crane chuckled nervously. "Not disappointed, I see," he replied, his tone unable to hide his embarrassment.
Y/n smiled, her eyes twinkling with affection. "Now, I could never be disappointed in my Scarecrow," she said, her words filled with warmth.
Dr. Crane's blush deepened at the endearing nickname, but he tried to maintain his composure. "I hope you don't go around kissing all your superiors," he joked, attempting to deflect the attention.
Y/n grinned mischievously. "Just you, Dr. Crane," she said, her tone teasing yet sincere.
Dr. Crane's lips curled into a soft smile at her response. "Seeing as circumstances change, you can call me Jonathan," he offered, his voice tinged with newfound intimacy.
"Well, Jonathan… I'm glad to finally know the man behind the mask," Y/n said with a smile.
"You better not go off telling your bat friend about this," Jonathan warned playfully.
"And lose my nighttime companion? No way," Y/n retorted, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
Jonathan chuckled at her response. Y/n’s eyes drifted to the closed office door.
“We should probably be getting back to work now," Y/n said, a hint of reluctance in her voice.
"We should, yes..." Jonathan began, his gaze lingering on her. "But I've never been one to follow the rules too closely," he added, drawing her closer into his embrace.
Y/n chuckled softly, realizing she wouldn't be leaving the office anytime soon. With a smile on her lips and a newfound connection in her heart, Y/n embraced the unpredictable journey ahead, knowing that whatever was between them was going to be complicated. But as Jonathan's lips met hers once more, Y/n felt a rush of exhilaration, realizing that wouldn’t want it any other way.
-
A/N: Thank you so much for the request 💚
I really did enjoy writing this fic, enemies hit differently when it's in superhero fics and I love it.
Even with the fic being 15k long, I wasn't sure how to make them 'lovers', so I ended up just making them playfully flirt and just turn it into real attraction cause...slay. So yeah, it's a bit fast paced but I am still happy with what I've written and I hope yous are too :)
It took me quite a while to write as I've just been so busy with Uni and work lately, finding time between has been difficult.
Thank you again and I hope you enjoyed 💚
#fanfic#jonathan crane#jonathan crane fanfic#jonathan crane x reader#dc scarecrow#cillian murphy scarecrow#batman scarecrow#the scarecrow#scarecrow#scarecrow x batgirl#batgirl#reader is batgirl#scarecrow x reader
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baby bat
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Pairing | Scarecrow x Batgirl!reader
Summary | Scarecrow films a ransom video to send to Batman.
Warnings | Sexual content, 18+, smut, dubcon, vibrator, forced orgasm, overstimulation, kidnapping, nonconseual recording?, praise.
Words | 800+
Notes | I might make a part two but don’t hold your breath lol. Also for legal reasons, I own the rights to the nickname baby bat cause I came up with it and haven’t seen it used before 😼💅🏻
Ao3 link | <3
Masterlist
“Where'd Batman find you, hm?” He placed a hand on your thigh, just above your knee, and started slowly dragging it up.
“Don’t fucking touch me.” You growled, thrashing in the restraints. He let out a low chuckle and removed his hand.
“So feisty. Is this your first time as a hostage?” You gritted your teeth and remained silent. “Oh, it is. Well, I’m honored to be your first.” You could tell he was smirking behind the mask.
“I’ll admit, this isn’t how I would normally go about it, but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity.” He said, walking over to the desk to grab something. “Let’s get this out of the way first, then we’ll move onto the fun stuff.” As he walked back over, you could see now that what he grabbed was a vibrator and a video camera.
“What the fuck are you doing?” He shushed you and ignored your thrashing as he attached the vibrator to your clothed heat.
“It might not be as effective over your suit, but I imagine it’ll give a similar result.” He said and you couldn’t tell if he was talking to you or himself. “Let’s get you warmed up.” He switched it on and your back arched off of the reclined examination chair as your whole body tensed up with the sudden stimulation. You pulled on the restraints hard enough to make your wrists and ankles burn even through the suit.
“Feel good?” He asked and you watched the way his head tilted down then back up, eyeing your body. You bit your lip to contain your sounds, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.
“W-why aren’t you— fuck… using your toxin?” You choked out, trying not to moan through the words.
“I told you, I’m saving the fun part for later.” He lightly trailed his fingers up your naval and between your breasts, only stopping once he reached the zipper of your suit. Since his hand was just below your face, you jerked your head forward, trying to bite him, but he moved away before you could and snickered in response, the sound through the voice modulator in his mask making you shiver. He opened up the camera and fiddled with it for a few seconds before a small light started flashing.
“Say hi.” He cooed, making you turn your head away from him as you tried to keep the shaking of your body to a minimum. That was proving to be very difficult though because of your rapidly approaching orgasm. “So moody.” He chuckled. “I guess we’ll get right to it then. I need you to do something for me, Batman. If I’m satisfied.. I’ll let her go. If not… well I could use a pet.” You let out a strangled whimper and squeezed your eyes shut, trying to will the orgasm away.
“I’ll send you the details soon. In the meantime… I’ll take good care of her, don’t worry. We’re gonna have so much fun, isn’t that right, baby bat?” He started rubbing your thigh again as he waited for a response.
You tried to think about dead puppies, the scent of dead bodies, Bruce’s cooking— anything. But nothing could bring you down from the edge. The knot of arousal in your stomach finally snapped and you let out a loud moan as your back arched off the chair and your whole body tensed.
“Oh, look at that.” He cooed mockingly. “Good girl.” You did your best to ignore the way his words ignited a new fire in your belly. When your orgasm faded and you sagged into the exam chair, you quickly tensed up again when the last little bit of pleasure quickly turned into overstimulation. You bit your lip to stifle your pained whimpers, but it barely made a difference.
“Look at her twitch.” He said proudly. “Does it feel a little too good now?”
“F-fuck you.” You spat, but your voice was too breathless to have any kind of edge to it.
“Don’t worry, we’ll get to that soon enough. Now, Batman, one last parting word; trust that by the time the next video finds you, she’ll still be in this predicament, so I’d work quickly if I were you.” He moved in closer to your face and grabbed your cheeks when you started turning away. “Say goodbye, baby bat.” When you remained silent, he chuckled and turned the camera off.
“Good job. You make such a pretty captive.” It was hard to focus on his words— on anything really— with intense, painful pleasure on your clit.
“Y-you’re going to let me go?” You whimpered and he froze. His head tilted slightly, making you more nervous.
“You poor thing. I’m sorry if I gave you false hope, I didn’t think you’d be stupid enough to believe me.” You let out a choked sob from his words and he cooed with faux sympathy. “I know. But soon enough you’ll grow to like it here. Just give it time, pet.”
#scarecrow x reader smut#scarecrow x reader#scarecrow#batgirl!reader#jonathan crane#jonathan crane x reader smut#jonathan crane smut#jonathan crane x reader
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"I just wish we'd managed to eat dinner before the bad guys showed up... Actually, I have a better idea... Nothing better than curling up with a movie and takeout, eh?"
DC How to Lose a Guy Gardner in 10 Days (2024) # 1 (DC Holiday Special). "Date Night."
#dc comics#batman#dick grayson#nightwing#barbara gordon#batgirl barbara gordon#spoiler#stephanie brown#black bat#cassandra cain#the scarecrow#jonathan crane#haley the dog#bludhaven#gotham#how to lose a guy gardner in 10 days#dc holiday special#dick x barbara
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𝖇𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖉𝖘𝖕𝖔𝖙𝖘 | professor!jonathan crane x batgirl!reader
𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞 | it can be difficult, living a double life: spending your days as a scholarship student at gotham university, and your nights as batgirl, the legendary heroine, fighting alongside batman and robin. though it proves to take a toll on you mentally and physically, flunked term papers and missed lectures will be the least of your problems when you encounter the scarecrow somewhere in the shadowy alleyways of gotham...
𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙 | 7k
𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 | NONCON SMUT (18+ only; violent/rough sex, use of fear toxin, degradation, semi-public sex/exhibitionism, bondage), professor/student dynamic (therefore implied age gap), some angst and depiction of ptsd/aftermath, reader is dating robin/tim drake
“And so,” Professor Crane continued, looking towards the class from the board, chalk in hand, "this triggers the fear response, and all that comes with it. You're probably familiar with the symptoms of fear: heart rate increase, cold sweat, overall heightened arousal."
A few giggles could be heard at that, and he rolled his eyes.
"Not that sort of arousal, necessarily," he frowned.
Everyone else just brushed off the childish humor of the moment, but you narrowed your eyes, getting a sense that the word necessarily was doing a lot of heavy lifting in that sentence.
He returned to his lecture, drawing lines in chalk over his crude diagram of the human brain, explaining how each area of the brain contributed to fear and the fight-or-flight response. As he spoke, you re-read the handout he’d given today— and you chewed on your lip absent-mindedly as you reviewed the bibliography.
"Dr. Crane?" you raised your hand, interrupting his lecture mid-sentence. "I had a question about some of the studies you reference here."
"Yes?" he returned, turning to face you with a slightly confused expression.
"Well you cite a paper out of Berkeley from 2002, to support the conclusion that exposure therapy is the best response to aggressive phobias— however, if you actually read the paper—"
"I read the paper, Miss," he interrupted sternly.
"Then, if you actually understood the paper," you continued, a few students gasping and laughing softly at your insubordination, "then you would see that the conclusions indicate the perceived decrease in fear response comes at the expense of long-term stability. Don't you think that negates any positive implications?"
The silence in the room was tense: everyone was waiting for how he would respond to your critique. Instead, he just smiled at you slightly. "I think you may have more context for how research is conducted, and reevaluate your conclusions, when you get a chance to organize your own research— in about a decade."
"Actually, Professor, I'll be leading my own experiment this quarter," you corrected, just as he was about to turn away from you and keep lecturing. "I'm the recipient of the Wayne Enterprises Collegiate Scholarship— which pays for my education here and also comes with a fifty thousand dollar research grant."
“Ah,” he said, bitterness dripping from his tone as he set his hands on the desk and leaned forward a bit. “May I ask what topic you hope to explore with your research?”
“Crime,” you explained, “and criminal behavior.”
“Hm,” he nodded, frowning slightly in an impressed sort of way, taking his weight off the desk. “And it doesn’t bother you that you’re here studying psychology?”
You lowered your brow, confused by his question. “I’m sorry?”
“Criminology is a subfield of sociology, which is related to but distinct from psychology,” he explained.
“Would you recommend that I switch majors, Doctor?” you asked simply.
“Well, it’s no secret that you’ve set the curve on our last two exams,” Dr. Crane smiled, tilting his head slightly. “So, no— I think I’d rather keep you here.”
You straightened up slightly, taken aback by his wording.
“Plus, while you’re still in my department,” he continued, “I have a better chance of talking some sense into you.”
With that, he returned to teaching, and you noticed how the other students were watching you before you sighed and tried to listen to the rest of class.
~
You caught up with him on a long stretch of hallway, just as he stepped up to his office door. “Professor!” you got his attention, and he turned to you with a slightly smug look as he held his hands together.
“Ah, yes,” he greeted, “I see you’re here to apologize for how you spoke to me in class today?”
You knew he didn’t actually expect that, he knew better after having you under him for the last two quarters— um, so to speak. “Just as soon as you do,” you offered with a smirk in return, shifting your weight on your hip.
That was what moved your button-down slightly, and his eyes drifted down to your neck— when they did, confusion and concern suddenly painted his expression. “My,” he gasped a little, pulling on the collar of your shirt with one finger to expose a healing scrape on your chest; his fingertip brushed over your skin and the golden chain of your necklace, and you jumped away slightly. “How’d you get that?”
“It’s nothing—” you blurted out, blinking quickly, “I tripped, on campus, actually.”
“That wonky step up to the Commons?” he assumed. “I’ve filed two complaints about that loose brick…”
“Yes,” you agreed quickly, smiling. “Yeah, I wasn’t looking where I was going, and I didn’t catch myself well while holding my books—”
“Hm,” he nodded back, “that’s a shame. A girl as smart as you, forgetting the Commons building doesn’t have brick steps— or steps at all, in fact.”
You swallowed thickly, glancing away.
“You sure were eager for an explanation, though,” he smiled. “How’d you really get such a nasty scrape? It does look like concrete, but I’m guessing it didn’t happen on campus—”
“It’s no matter,” you assured.
“It wasn’t that boyfriend of yours, was it?” he pressed. “Mr. Drake, as I recall?”
“Wha— no!” you gasped.
“He’s not your boyfriend?”
“Well, he is,” you explained, “but he didn’t—”
“You know you can tell me anything, right?” Crane offered, lowering his voice slightly.
“Of course,” you sighed, “but there’s nothing to tell. Things are fine with Tim, I promise.”
“He shared your interest in criminal studies, didn’t he?” Professor Crane recalled. “Clearly, he didn’t share your scholarly aptitude, though, seeing as he’s dropped out.”
“H-he was smart enough,” you justified, “he left because of stress.”
“Ah,” the Professor nodded, “and he doesn’t take that stress out on you at all?”
“C’mon, Professor, Tim’s a good person,” you promised.
“I’m inclined to agree,” Crane replied, “but it’s the ones that act the kindest that have the most to hide, isn’t it?”
You knew there was another meaning to that statement, but there were so many possibilities that you couldn’t settle on one.
“You understand that if I suspect anything, I’m required to alert our student wellness services,” he reminded you. “They’ll have a counselor reach out to you—”
“Listen, Dr. Crane— I didn’t come here to speak to you about my personal life,” you reminded him, “I wanted to ask you about my performance in the class so far, in your opinion.”
He paused before sighing in relent. “I’m a little concerned, actually,” he admitted, “about your most recent paper.”
He pulled it from the folder under his arm and handed it back to you— covered in red ink. You blinked at him, biting your lip in confusion. “I thought these wouldn’t be returned until—”
“I worked on yours first,” he explained quickly, even though that explanation only brought more questions than answers. “It’s still very strong, but it’s not what I expect from you at this point. It feels rushed.”
Rushed— yeah, I remember this one. I wrote it all the night it was due because I spent the three days before recovering from that fight with Falcone’s thugs at the docks—
“I’ll let you rewrite it,” he offered, “if you can get it back to me before I return the rest of your classmates’ work.”
You laughed a little, looking at the paper in front of you, and Crane knitted his brows together. “You know, Professor, sometimes I can’t tell if I’m your favorite student, or your most hated.”
He smiled a little, glancing down briefly at the floor in a sort of self-effacing way. “I don’t have favorites,” he assured, unconvincingly. “You’re not my best student, or my worst— you’re an entirely different kind of student. You’re nothing like those other… juvenile, moronic co-eds looking in the exact wrong place for an easy A.”
Your eyes widened a little, seeing the way he let a little irritation— disdain, really— paint his tone. He snarled a bit as he spoke, his nostrils flaring; like he was holding it back, how much resentment he really had for your classmates.
As quickly as it came, he seemed to shake it off, and then he smiled again… but it was tight, and forced, you could see that just as easily. “You challenge me,” he finished quickly. “I appreciate that as much as I detest it.”
You smiled back, somewhat genuinely despite the icky feeling that suddenly wiggled in your stomach. “I suppose I feel the same way,” you admitted.
He opened his mouth, hesitating slightly, before tilting his head the other way and starting over. “Could you come into my office for a minute?” he asked suddenly, a strange glimmer in his eyes behind the thin silver glasses. “I’d like to show you my latest work— I think you’ll find it quite intriguing…”
He reached into his pocket, pulling out a ring of keys and started to unlock his office door, and you didn’t feel too excellent about it.
Just then, a group of students walked by, and you heard them talking amongst each other as one looked at a text message on her phone. “Oh my god,” one said as she explained to those around her, “my friend’s at the bank right now— she said someone’s holding up the place…”
“What?” another student asked, and you tilted your head a bit to hear them better.
“Yeah, the one on Main and 57th? The police aren’t there yet— she said they have guns…”
Your heart started to race. Sounds like a job for Batgirl.
Crane was in his own world, though, about to open the door. “Maybe I can even convince you to change some of your conclusions about the study of fear,” he posited.
You stepped back, motivated to leave just as much by a strange suspicion of Professor Crane as the opportunity to stop the nearby bank robbery. “I-I have to go,” you said, before you’d thought of a good excuse— and that hadn’t gone well for you last time, but hopefully he wasn’t going to quiz you on campus architecture again to trip you up.
He looked confused, a little sad even, as he turned to you again. “This won’t take long,” he promised, “I’d just like to show you—”
“Sorry,” you blurted out as you kept backing up, “I gotta… you know, um… buy tampons.”
Hoping something that awkward would get him to stop asking questions, you turned on your heel and darted off down the hall, looking for the best way off campus and to a secluded spot where you could pull your Batgirl get-up out of the false compartment in your bag and get to work.
~
“I don’t like you going out there alone,” Bruce said flatly, not looking up from his hands clasped in his lap.
“Wow, really?” you rolled your eyes, feigning surprise. “News to me.”
“You’re too young, and it’s dangerous,” he continued anyway.
“Doing all the greatest hits tonight, huh?” you smirked. “Next you’ll say you need to keep up your identity better, study hard so no one suspects you and then finish it off with don’t touch the Batmobile.”
He sighed and shook his head. “You can touch it, you just can’t drive it.”
“Right,” you agreed flatly, sighing as you adjusted in your spot on the couch. You’d taken up shop here in the Wayne Manor private library: something about your interaction with Professor Crane yesterday made you want to study off-campus for the afternoon…
You knew Bruce had a point about working alone— you didn’t really want to be alone, you were certainly safer when you had Batman by your side. The problem was that you were too safe… Bruce protected you so well that he hindered you; you’d accused him of wanting you to just stay behind and patch him up after fights rather than actually helping. He denied it, obviously, but actions speak louder than words— and there was such a difference in the way he treated you and Robin was obvious.
In fact, that itself had driven a wedge between you and your boyfriend— one of many reasons Bruce had implored you both not to get involved in that way, but it was sort of unavoidable. You can only do such high intensity, high pressure work alongside someone for so long before the tension is too much to bear…
Then again, that very tension that made your relationship with Tim threatened to break it, and you knew that— you felt that, even now, as he looked at you with a sympathetic sort of stare. You cleared your throat and focused on your book again.
“Please don’t go out without us again,” Tim asked— softer, sweeter, lacking that father-figure-sternness Bruce was always trying to muster.
“I think the people in that bank are pretty happy that I did,” you replied with a snarky smile.
“We were on our way—” Bruce began.
“It was a one man job!” you insisted.
“There were seven men on that heist team— and two more parked outside,” Bruce explained, getting more frustrated as this discussion continued. “It doesn’t matter. We work as a team.”
“Except when you go out alone,” you reminded him.
“I’ve been doing this longer,” he explained, standing up, “I’ve been doing it better, and I’ve been doing it on my own since you were still in high school.”
“Then why did you take me in?” you returned sharply, knitting your brows together in confusion and frustration. “Why did you train me, why did you bring me here and tell me the truth?”
“Because I saw your potential,” he answered as he began to walk away, “not because you’re ready to save the whole fucking world by yourself.”
You shook your head in frustration— almost disbelief, except of course he would do this— as Bruce shut the door behind him. Conversation didn’t go his way, he just left— that was normal. Ironic, for a man who interrogated criminals on the street almost daily.
“He’s right,” Tim informed you after a pregnant pause, and you glared at him.
“Would you excuse me? I have to study,” you explained sharply as you motioned to the textbooks and notepads laid out on the table, as you’d had them before you were interrupted by these two, “because apparently the best thing Batgirl can do is not be Batgirl.”
“Hey,” Tim sighed, “he doesn’t mean it like that… he just wants you to keep focusing on your studies, that’s all.”
“I just think it’s funny—” you began.
“I bet it’s not gonna be very funny,” Tim noticed with a frown.
“— that Bruce thinks it’s so important that I keep my grades up so nobody knows what I’m doing at night— so nobody knows that I’m not getting any goddamn sleep— but you got to drop out and that apparently wasn’t going to make anybody suspicious?” you noticed. “You know, I had a professor ask me about you today— wondering what was up with you leaving so suddenly. Why is nobody worried about that?”
“We worry about you because we care about you,” he explained.
You tossed your books aside, standing up to face Tim properly. “That’s bullshit,” you spat.
“You think I don’t care about you, seriously?” he asked.
“I know you care about me, but you don’t respect me,” you explained, “neither of you do. You two go off and do what you want, you’d rather me be your nurse than actually be out there— when you know damn well that you need me!”
“I need you,” Tim promised, “in so many ways. That’s why I can’t let anything happen to you—”
“Well, things need to happen to me sometimes! Isn’t that what life is, things happening to you?!” you laughed exasperatedly. “I mean, shit, why do I go to school at all? Why don’t you guys just lock me at the top of Wayne Tower and I’ll never ever leave and you can just climb up my hair when you wanna come visit!”
“Christ,” Tim groaned, “you are so fucking ridiculous sometimes— what are you trying to prove? Why do you need to be out there every night beating up bad guys, whether Bruce tells you to or not?”
Instead of answering that, you simply accused: “He obviously likes you better than me.”
“Is that really what this is about? You want Bruce to like you?!” Tim scoffed. “Are you that shallow?”
“I want him to trust me!” you clarified. “I want him to understand what I’m capable of!”
“You know what you’re capable of,” he replied, grabbing your shoulders. “I know. Is that not enough?”
You let out a long breath, looking down at the floor.
“I love you,” Tim sighed— but it didn’t sound very sweet when he said it like that, it sounded sad.
“I love you too,” you replied instinctively, but it felt oddly hollow leaving your lips.
“Please,” he breathed as he pressed his forehead to yours, “please stay safe. You’re stronger than me, you can take a lot more than I can.”
You were about to ask him what he meant by that, since you both knew he was physically stronger and more resilient than you, walking away from fights that could’ve put you in a stretcher. But before you could ask, he spoke again.
“My heart can only take so much.”
But that only proved your point, though you didn’t tell him out loud: that what him and Bruce wanted you to do had nothing to do with your strength, and everything to do with their weakness.
~
In your defense, you took the night off.
But the next night, you had to get out there— Bruce and Tim told you to stay behind so Batman and Robin could go save the day, and you? You were holding down the fort, keeping the couch warm. What a fucking waste; there was more evil in this city than two men could purge— there was more for you to do. As tempting as it was to meet them at the rendezvous location they’d figured out and try to help clear out the gangsters there buying an illegal weapons shipment, you knew that would just lead to the same fight again. This time, the plan was to go out, kick some criminal ass, come back, and leave Bruce none the wiser.
You scanned police radios patiently, waiting for just the right thing— small enough to fix on your own, big enough to matter. You wished, sometimes, that you had less to choose from…
Units respond, units respond — 10-79 reported at West Main and 88th.
Bomb threat. That felt manageable, and you were pretty handy with defusal in case that threat had any credibility. You turned off the radio and stood up, looking down over the city from your vantage point on a highrise fire escape. It was beautiful, in its grimy Gotham way: a light rainfall coated everything in a fuzzy static like old film; it made the concrete reflect the neon lights a little clearer, the whole skyline sort of slick and steamy.
Running and jumping to the next roof, you made a path to your destination and navigated the city unseen, like any good Bat-person would.
You were nearly there when you stopped on a roof above an abandoned manufacturing plant— well, that’s the thing, it wasn’t as abandoned as you thought. There was a glass sunroof, and even though it was dark and rainy, the light inside brought your attention to a group of men inside. Not to profile or anything, but 4 bald guys with guns standing around is usually a good sign that someone’s up to no good…
Trying to get a better look at what was going on inside, you carefully lifted one of the glass panels and slipped inside, sneaking around the metal scaffolding as the sound of the rain was muffled and replaced with distance, echoing voices.
You crouched in the rafters, watching with narrowed eyes as the group of men faced against a figure you couldn’t make out with the shadows and pillars in the way.
“So, are we good for this deal, or what?” the leader of the group asked.
A modulated, deeper voice answered: “This is half of what we agreed.”
“My team had some… road bumps, trying to bring this to you,” the man explained, stepping forward slightly. “We lost some of the compound. This is what we’re offering, take it or leave it.”
“I’ll take it,” the shadowy figure agreed. “How much for what’s left?”
“The same price we discussed.”
“For half the amount? How does that work?”
“It’s a flat rate,” the smuggler— that’s what he must have been, right?— explained with a smug smirk. “In fact, I should charge you more— call it hazard pay, for what my men had to go through to get this here.”
“I see,” the deeper voice replied. “How about this: I kill all of you, and take it.”
Your eyes widened; isn’t this guy alone? He’s sure got some balls…
The group of men paused before beginning to laugh. “You?” the leader repeated. “This skinny guy in the suit is gonna kill all of us?”
“I can do worse than that— I’ll make you beg for me to kill you.”
Feeling the tension of this discussion reach its breaking point, you realized you needed to intervene now: leaning over to make sure you had the right spot under you, you took the grappling hook off of your belt and pointed it down.
Firing it with a metallic whooshing sort of sound, the device grabbed one of the men and yanked him up into the shadows of the ceiling with you. Everyone on the ground looked up in shock and fear, pointing their guns aimlessly into the darkness. Before he could even really react to what had just occurred, you dropped the man back down— onto one of his friends, of course, which incapacitated them both but saved him from a much worse fate than if he’d landed on that concrete warehouse floor.
“What the fuck?” the leader of the group yelled as he tried to fire indiscriminately up at you— but you were already running along the steel beam, following one of the men as he tried to make a dash for the exit.
A blast from your long-distance taser gun brought him to the ground instantly, and as the last one left searched for the source of your attacks, you jumped down to the ground just behind him, landing in a crouched position. As soon as he’d turned around to face you, you’d grabbed a loose metal pipe from nearby and hit him over the head with an oddly-satisfying bong noise.
You knew the other man was still somewhere in the dark nearby, and you called out for him: “Whoever you are, stop hiding in the shadows: that’s kinda my thing,” you informed him.
He stepped forward in the cool, gray light: a man in a torn and tattered suit, with a burlap mask that had massive stitches like scars. Batman had just warned you about this guy, what was his name again?
"My," he purred with pleasant shock, his voice clearly deepened electronically by something in that sack on his head. "If it isn't Batgirl. Nice outfit, very… shiny."
"Yours looks pretty rough," you noticed.
He shrugged. "It does the job."
You smiled back, remembering finally who you were dealing with. "Not with me. I'm not scared of you, Scarecrow."
"You will be," he promised.
You swung first, a roundhouse kick right at his head, but he ducked and came back up at you— he tried to grab you but you slipped away.
Instead of going after you again, he ran— grabbed one of the suitcases off of the palette nearby, whatever this ‘shipment’ was, and bolted for the door into the alleyway. You almost laughed, impressed that he thought he could outrun you, but then again this was the guy who threatened to kill four armed men straight to their face.
You chased him right out the door, but as you dashed into the alley behind the manufacturing plant— the one that faced the northern street— you learned a moment too late that he hadn’t run at all, but was waiting for you there.
He sprayed something in your face, and you coughed as a cloud of vapor filled your lungs. You assumed it was pepper spray at first, but it didn't burn— actually, it smelled a little sweet, sort of herbal. But the effects were almost instantaneous, the pounding in your chest and the sinking feeling in your gut, the world spinning around you.
The fear response: heart rate increase, cold sweat, overall heightened arousal.
Instantly you felt old memories rushing in— awful, horrifying ones, and even worse than you remembered them. For a moment, there was fear with no real object, just the feeling… until he grabbed your face and forced you to look at him, at the wicked mask that seemed impossibly close— that seemed like it could swallow you whole. You screamed, trying to turn away or shut your eyes or something, but nothing assuaged the terror.
"Please," you sobbed. "Make it stop! Please!"
“Nothing can stop it now,” his voice returned— even rougher and darker than before, the deep bass of it making you shiver. “This is who you are. Give in to the fear.”
If nothing else, he had a point that fighting it wasn’t proving very useful— but giving in meant letting the world collapse in on you, letting the darkness pull you back… the darkness you’d fought so hard to make into an ally was becoming your enemy again.
He grabbed your mask and tugged it away; even overwhelmed with primal terror, enough logic remained for you to reach up and try to cover your face.
But he simply grabbed your hands and shoved them away. You heard a laugh behind that horrible mask, just before he suddenly took it off.
The toxin changed his face, too— his smile was wider and his teeth sharper, his eyes totally black— and you couldn't recognize him at first. Only when he addressed you by name did you finally put it together; "Professor Crane?" you realized with a horrified gasp.
"I imagine you haven't finished rewriting that paper yet?"
"Oh god," you sobbed, "you— you're— how can you do this?"
You struggled against him again, but he held you back effortlessly. “I said I liked you because you’re a challenge,” he remembered with a laugh. “But out here, you’re no challenge at all. Just a stupid little girl in a mask.”
He slapped you hard across the face, making you stumble even more as you lost your balance, colliding with the damp black asphalt.
He descended onto you, turning you on your back when you tried to hide your face in your arm as an escape from the terrifying visions. “I’ve been waiting for a chance to put you in your place,” he admitted with a growl as he started to pull your armored clothes off of you roughly. “You act a little too fearless for my liking… good to know it’s all an act.”
You cried, shaking and flailing beneath him, but you couldn’t actually put up a fight like this— the darkness throbbed around you, shadows reaching out to pull you into their abyss. “Please,” you begged again, “no! Stop, please!”
You weren’t even sure yourself if you were talking to him or to the hallucinated, anthropomorphized energy in the dark, but neither stopped. He struggled at times to get your clothes off, they weren’t exactly designed to come off quickly but you shuddered violently from the cool night air when your chest was exposed. You heard a deep growl from him, and you whimpered loudly as his hands ran over your skin. “What are you so scared of?” he asked, sounding amused— but in your mind, those hands were claws that could shred you to pieces at any moment, and you breathed so fast that your chest just spasmed and quaked. “I think you’ve been needing this for a while…”
He roughly turned you onto your stomach, face down against the street, and started to tug down your pants. You were too scared to even beg him to stop, to try to bargain or reason with him— you just shuddered and cried, hiding your face and hoping for relief from the dread.
He smacked you on your bare ass, once it was exposed, and chuckled to himself at your whine in response. The next thing you heard was the sound of a belt opening, a zipper unzipped…
Was it the toxin that made you afraid he would rip you in half, when he pressed his erection against your thigh? Or was that just common sense?
You grimaced when you heard him spit into his hand, but it fell into a whining cry as he pushed his tip against your opening. With your pants only down to your knees, you couldn’t even spread your legs at all, making you feel even more like there was no chance he could fit. The sick, anxious fear felt a little different now— maybe not as strong, but mostly just something new… something deeper and subtler and heavier. It wasn’t visions of monsters or memories of suffering, it was just this inevitable violation and the sureness that you were completely helpless.
He pushed his hips forward sharply, making you scream out and instantly reach back to try to grab his hips and push them away. He ignored it and kept going forward with a low groan. “Mm, you can take it,” he promised gruffly. “Fucking take it.”
You cried as he put a hand on your shoulders, keeping you pressed down painfully into the ground, as he slid the rest of the way in.
It stung, it stretched you in an awful way and went far too deep… but you were wet, you could feel it. Overall heightened arousal… not that sort of arousal, necessarily. He obviously noticed as well, growling a bit. “You like this, hm?” he accused.
“N-no,” you managed to slur, but it was hard to even breathe with his weight pressing you down. You pushed back harder against his thighs through his undone trousers, but he growled and grab your hand to pin it down above your head. He brought the other up beside it, and quickly pulled his belt out from the loops to tie around your wrists. “Professor,” you pleaded under your breath, feeling your warm tears mix with the cold rain on the ground.
But he was already inside you, it was too late for that— and with your hands conveniently out of the way, he breathed heavy as he started to pull back and shove back in.
There was no build-up after that, he just fucked you as hard and fast as he wanted with no regard for how you cried and struggled under him. He grabbed your hair and forced your head back awkwardly as you sobbed.
“Say my name,” he ordered, apparently irritated by the title of ‘Professor’ — but you didn’t know for sure if he wanted to be addressed as Jonathan or Scarecrow, and you feared the consequences if you chose incorrectly.
Still, you blurted out the first thing that came to mind: “J-Jonathan,” you spat out hoarsely, and he grinned happily before dropping you back onto the ground. You struggled against the belt around your wrists— not actually expecting to get out of it, and not having any plan if you did, just mainly out of instinct. All it did was dig the sharp edge of the leather into your skin, making you cry harder.
It rocked you back and forth on the ground, those rough thrusts— the friction inside you was hot and fast, and each time he slammed all the way in, you heard the clapping of skin on skin and felt his tip ram against the deepest places inside you. You didn’t even realize it was possible to be bruised inside like that, but you knew you would be by the end of this.
He didn’t slow down, really, but he changed his rhythm slightly and found an angle to go even just a bit deeper into you, until you whined pathetically with every pump into you. It seemed like the toxin was wearing off, in that you weren’t seeing things anymore, but there was still obviously a sick feeling in your stomach, and an unreliable beating in your chest, and a deep throbbing in your ears.
“You’re getting even wetter,” he noticed with a low chuckle, and you whimpered as you hoped not to have to acknowledge that. “Fucking soaking me— poor girl, I don’t think you can help it…”
At least it made this hurt a little less, but no amount of wetness could prevent him from holding your hips painfully tight and fucking you so forcefully it seemed hateful. You whined loudly with every movement, fingers curling into shaky fists even when it was useless with his belt restraining you.
When you turned your face to the side, you saw figures at the other end of the alley— not hallucinations, nothing scary, just passersby on the street— and you reached out for them instinctively as hope flooded your chest. Blinking the tears from your eyes, you could see them clearer: a man and woman, older, well-dressed. “P-please,” you croaked out in a broken voice, “please, help me— call the police—”
They heard you, and they turned and looked at you, only to grimace and turn away; the man pulled his date closer, shuffling her away with him as they kept walking. You whimpered pathetically, and Crane laughed above you. “That’s Gotham for you,” he mused. “No one wants to get involved. These are the people Batgirl wants to save?”
They weren’t the only ones who saw, either; later, a small crowd of young men in bandanas and baggy pants passed by— some of them looked young enough to still be in high school. You prayed to anything that would listen that they would move along without noticing, but one of them saw and pointed at you two with a scoffing laugh. Feeling as if you could throw up, you shut your eyes tight and heard the chorus of jeers as they realized what they were seeing. They laughed and hollered; what the fuck, dude! and ohh shit and hey, she’s pretty hot declared in juvenile voices between raunchy chuckles. You saw flashes of light when you blinked your eyes— were they taking pictures of this with their phones? You wondered if Jonathan would be forced to stop them, if he was concerned about evidence, but he didn’t react at all… he didn’t even slow down.
Once they’d gotten an eyeful and the sight had lost its shock, they wandered away— you could still hear their voices echoing around the buildings for a moment until it all faded in with the ambient sounds of the city: sirens, horns, footsteps, and that perpetual Gotham drizzle.
“I can feel it,” he whispered to you suddenly, “it keeps squeezing me. Such a needy fucking cunt.”
You didn’t know if the ‘cunt’ was referring to your anatomy or to you as a person, and either option made your throat a little dry— but dryness was the least of your problems between your legs, in fact you were pretty sure you were dripping now, you could feel how slippery and sticky you’d become. Your thighs were coated, it was even running down over your swelling and neglected clit.
He lowered himself a bit, resting his arms beside your head and breathing close to your ear. He even brushed some of your hair out of the way with his hand, wanting to get a better look at your face, and you shut your eyes.
Increasingly loud groans and sighs above you made you realize what was about to happen, just as much as the throbbing feeling inside you.
“F-fuck,” he let out in a scratchy voice. “Fuck!”
You whimpered yourself just as you heard him choke out a sort of high-pitched, shaky moan, and his thrusts went from erratic and desperate to slower and uneven. He twitched inside you, and you felt the flood of heat in impossible contrast to the cold ground under you.
“God…” he groaned, his hand on your shoulder tightening and digging a little too deep into your skin. Then he laughed a little as he finally came to a stop— breathless, light, almost making him sound impressed. With you or himself, it’s hard to say; it sounded like a laugh of relief.
A lump formed in your throat as you considered what you were supposed to do now— he’d just come inside you, raw, and it made your stomach sink (but it made your walls clench unexpectedly, too). As he carefully pulled out, you whimpered at the way it reawakened the sting of his first entrance— especially when he first pushed inside. He sighed heavily when he finally got himself out of you completely, and then his hands— hot, a little clammy, and strong— came into view to free your aching wrists from his belt.
He stood up over you, and you heard him readjust his trousers before zipping them up and putting back on his belt. “Was it good for you?” he asked with a quiet, but smug, chuckle.
Bringing your hands nearer to press against the ground, you tried to lift yourself up on shaking arms. When your torso was only a few inches off the pavement, Jonathan put his polished shoe on your back between your shoulder blades and pushed you back down. You whimpered as he looked down at you, tilting his head while he admired your helpless form.
“Stay down,” he ordered.
Finally taking his foot off of you, he picked his mask up from the ground, sighing as he shook some of the raindrops off of it and put it back on.
“Well,” he began with a sigh, his voice modulated by the sack over his head again, “I’ll see you in class. I look forward to seeing what you do with that paper.”
You didn’t watch him leave; you just heard the warehouse door shut again. Your eyes were looking blankly forward, blinking away stinging tears, looking at the way the neon lights of the buildings across the street reflected in the puddles on the ground.
~
You jolted, much more than necessary, when someone knocked on the bathroom door; it made the water in your bath ripple, though the fluffy white surface of the bubbles was hardly disturbed. “Can I come in?” you heard Bruce’s voice.
“Yeah,” you answered, but he stopped when he opened the door.
“You’re not decent,” he noticed, turning away.
“There’s bubbles everywhere, you can’t see anything,” you sighed, and he stepped the rest of the way in. A pause that both of you pretended wasn’t awkward occurred.
“Tim told me that you came back roughed up,” he said eventually.
You said nothing.
“I told you not to—” he began.
“I know.”
He sighed; you kept staring forward at the white tile wall in front of you. "What happened?" he asked simply.
“I know Tim told you already— two guys, probably Falcone’s— they went at me in a tunnel by the Southside,” you explained with a sigh. “I was just following a stolen van, I didn’t know who took it— I would’ve called you if I knew. I just wanted something I could handle on my own.”
You knew the story didn’t add up; Falcone’s men would’ve probably given you a black eye, maybe a broken nose, and bruises on your stomach from kicks and punches. Instead what you had were concrete scrapes on your cheek, fingerprint-sized bruises on your hips and thighs, and thin abrasions all around your wrists. Not to mention the jitters and auditory hallucinations from working Crane’s toxin out of your system— his voice, still in your ear: just a stupid little girl in a mask. You’d stopped looking over your shoulder by now, but your heart still raced every time.
You knew the story didn’t add up, but you knew it didn’t matter, because Bruce was going to buy it. He wasn’t ready to imagine the truth yet. This time, when you heard Crane’s voice, it wasn’t a hallucination but a memory: you sure were eager for an explanation.
Bruce nodded and began to walk out of the bathroom. “Alright,” he said. “Rest up.”
You scoffed to yourself as he left quietly— for a detective, he still had a few blindspots. Surely, we all do.
Left alone in the bathroom again, you were surrounded by silence once more. In silence, it was easier to hear his voice in your ear. Just a stupid little girl in a mask.
The shrill sound of your cell phone startled you, and you awkwardly leaned out of the tub just far enough to grab it off of the pile of towels you'd left it on.
"Hello?" you answered, irritation obvious in your tone.
“Hello, ma’am, this is Tracy from the Gotham University Student Wellness Center,” the sweet, lilting voice came from the other end of the line. “We recently received notice of concern that you may be experiencing domestic violence. We’d love for you to come into our office to discuss this and receive complementary counseling, when’s a good time that we could—?”
You hung up and tossed the phone away, sinking down into the water.
#cillian murphy smut#cillian murphy fic#cillian murphy x reader#scarecrow smut#scarecrow x reader#jonathan crane x reader#jonathan crane smut#jonathan crane dark fic
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Kinktober 2023 Masterlist
hey everyone!!! this is where all of my kinktober posts from this year will live (each fic will also be on my main masterlists under their respective fandom and character).
i dont have characters picked out for each prompt yet because i want to allow myself to write what im inspired about at the time
i hope you enjoy my fics and as always, please please please support writers and reblog their fics so more people can enjoy them (and it motivates us to create more content)
prompts under the cut
1. porn- neil lewis (no ship/x reader)
Bad Habits
2. anal sex- robert fischer x callgirl!reader
Special Request
3. corruption kink- college au!anakin x reader
Smoke Me Out
4. femdom- jonathan crane x batgirl!reader
Sweeten the Deal
5. piss kink- anakin x wife!reader
Wait
6. pegging - neil lewis x reader
Smile For the Camera
7. fear play- jonathan crane x reader
Better Than Revenge
8. choking - batman x scarecrow (scarebat)
High on Your Own Supply
9. hair pulling - best friend!anakin x reader
Nice Guys Finish Last
10. pet play- tommy shelby x reader
Leashed
11. threesome- oppenheimer x lawrence x reader
The Doctor is In
12. somnophilia- psycho au!jonathan crane x reader
Crane Motel
13. knife play- best friend!anakin x reader
Bad Guys Win
14. bondage- darth vader x reader
Insignificant
15. praise kink- han solo x reader
Pass the Time
16. degradation kink- tommy shelby x reader
Treat Me Wrong
17. sweat kink- lacrosse player!anakin x reader
Scent
18. cross dressing- jake "hangman" seresin x reader
Laced Up
19. breeding kink- trailer trash!anakin x reader
Babysitter
20. roleplay-
21. mask kink-
22. voyeurism-
23. spit kink-
24. daddy kink-
25. monster fucking-
26. glory hole-
27. dry humping -
28. sex pollen-
29. dumbification-
30. clothed sex-
31. predator/prey-
#kinktober#kinktober 2023#anakin skywalker#anakin skywalker x reader#tommy shelby#cillian murphy#tommy shelby x reader#cillian murphy x reader#jonathan crane#jonathan crane x reader#neil lewis#neil lewis x reader#matt murdock#matt murdock x reader#bradley bradshaw#bradley bradsaw x reader#rooster x reader#hangman x reader#jake seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin x reader#star wars#peaky blinders#marvel#top gun
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Hoax
Pairing: Jonathan Crane x fem!reader
Summary: You debate leaving your identity as Batgirl behind for a certain villain that has caught your eye.
Warnings: None; let me know if I missed any
Word Count: 641
Notes: Credit to @slut4thebroken for the ‘baby bat’ nickname 🫶🏻 it’s now a favorite trope of mine with Crane
Based on the song ‘hoax’ by Taylor Swift.
My only one
My kingdom come undone
My broken drum
You have beaten my heart
Morals. You couldn’t let yours lapse. Your morals are what caused you to start working with Bruce in the first place, yet every time he called you “Baby Bat”, you felt your heart flutter in a way you knew you shouldn’t.
He was terrorizing the city with a plan to unleash a deadly amount of fear into the streets. It would cause Gotham to fall into something beyond anarchy and the cure would never be ready in enough time for you to stop it. It was terrorism, there was nothing else to describe it.
Yet, here you sat, with him standing in front of you, a look that was equal parts teasing and knowing on his face.
“You can’t ask me to stop being Batgirl, I can’t do it.” Your voice shook as you sat on his bed next to him.
“So your morals stop you from giving up Batgirl, but not from fucking and falling for the Scarecrow?” He asked, the familiar taunting emphasis on his alter ego’s name. The look on his face matched the taunting tone.
“There has to be a middle ground somewhere…” you began, voice desperate, “I won’t help Br- Batman when it comes to Scarecrow’s plots, but I won’t help you with them, either. I stay on the sidelines and only aid him in taking down others,” you offered, trying to come up with something that allowed you to keep Batgirl and Jonathan.
“You know that can’t be done. I work with others and they’re going to work with me,” he pointed out.
You let silence fill the air for your response, and for once, he didn’t fill the air with a know-it-all or sarcastic reply. He allowed your silence to sit.
Weeks later and you were sitting by someone’s side, watching as the city went into chaos.
“And your kingdom crumbles…” Jonathan said in a low voice that was distorted by the mask he wore.
The words sent a pang through your heart, but you ignored it.
“It was going to crumble anyways,” you replied with an equally distorted voice.
“Let’s move,” he told you, grabbing your hand and standing.
You stood up and followed him through one of the many tall buildings that filled Gotham, finding your horses in the lobby of the building, and moving to guide them outside before a third party made their presence known to the two of you.
“I thought it was you… I didn’t want to believe it,” Bruce said, causing you and Jonathan to whip around and look at where he was perched on one of the desks.
“Don’t,” Jonathan warned, his voice even more menacing while it was distorted.
As much as he had mocked you for the way your morals had caused such a…tumultuous beginning to your relationship, he didn’t allow for others to do the same.
“You traded one set of wings for another, and in doing so helped bring the downfall of Gotham,” Bruce said, his eyes behind the Batman mask being trained on you. “From Batgirl to the Sparrow…” he trailed off.
“You always underestimated her,” Jonathan said, stepping slightly in front of you, as if trying to protect you. “Do you understand why it’s now Sparrow?”
Bruce shook his head.
“Because Sparrows are often seen as harmless birds,” Jonathan answered, allowing your hand to rest on his arm as he continued on, “but in many cultures they represent death. That’s what you saw her as when she joined your side. A helper. Not a fighter that could bring more to you. You were afraid to weaponize her, but I saw the other side of her. The one that could be dangerous.”
He saw the side of you Bruce was afraid to weaponize, but he didn’t view it as a weapon. He saw all of you and viewed it as you.
#jonathan crane#jonathan crane x reader#jonathan crane x you#Jonathan crane imagine#cillian murphy imagine#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy#scarecrow#scarecrow x reader#scarecrow imagine
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A Nurse at Arkham
BatmanVsTmnt!Donatello x reader
A/N: Not as detailed as I wanted it to be, since influenza has been kicking my butt, but I still wanted to post this.
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You are a nurse at Arkham Asylum, who just happened to be there the night Shredder, Ra’s al Ghul and the Joker cause chaos. Lucky for you there is a purple turtle, ready to safe you💜
Warning: Description of leg injury, but not in depth, spelling bc sick.
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At Arkham Asylum, chaos reigned supreme. The Joker had managed to mutate himself into a grotesque creature, overpowering the last surviving guards and taking the rest of the staff as hostages. Among them were you, a nurse who had been unfortunate enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. As you and the rest of the staff was locked away in the basement, your arms bound behind your back, you cursed yourself for taking that night shift.
It was quite in the basement of Arkham Asylum. You and the rest of the hostages kept as still as possible, in fear that any move would cause Joker to burst in with his new snake form. But though you all tried to keep quiet, it couldn’t stop you and the rest of the injured hostages from groaning in pain every once in a while.
In the dimly lit basement you looked down at your hurting leg. It was swollen and dark from the ankle and up. It was Harley who did it, with her hammer when you tried to run away. Harley had always been strong. You had experienced that first had when bringing her to the bathroom, only for her to try to make a run for it. But as a dog mutant-like thing, she was even stronger. Scarily strong. And now she had done this to your leg. Suddenly all of those nail scratches she had given you didn’t seem like anything. But your leg, it was a horrible sight to look at, making your stomach turn slightly. You hated this. You just wanted to go home.
The silence of the basement was broken, as you heard movement at the door. All of you froze, with your gaze locked on the door. All possible fears rushed through your head. Was it the Joker coming in? Harley? Scarecrow? Bane? You did not know, and you did not wish to know. You just wanted to go home.
You heard something in the lock. It didn’t sound like a key, nor did it open the door as fast as a key would. The hair in your neck started standing as you started wondering; who was trying to come in?
Finally the lock clicked and the door opened. All held their breath in fear as two people rushed into the room. Feat was replaced with sudden relief, causing your head to spin. Batgirl. You could recognize her anywhere. But it was who she came in with, that made you feel a slight bit of fear once again. He was green. His skin, his three fingers on each and the two toes on his feet. On his back he carried what looked like a shell, and in his hands he held a bowstaff. Around his head he had a purple bandana that blended well with his brown eyes.
Batgirl and the purple clad turtle moved into the room, telling you all that they were there to get you out. You watched as the turtle went to the first person and started untying them.
“Who- who are you?”, they asked, staring as the turtle got rid of their robes, obviously on edge because of this new creature.
“My name is Donatello”, he smiled, causing the scared hostage to calm a little. You watched this interaction closely, still slightly shocked by the humanoid turtle. You watched as he walked from person to person, untying them and helding them stand. But then Donatello caught sight of Y/N, cowering in a corner. He saw your leg.
"Are you okay to stand?" Donatello asked, concern evident in his eyes as he crouched down by your side to untie your hands.
You shook your head. “I don’t know. It hurts”, you said.
Donatello looked at your face for a moment, before staring back down at your leg. You could almost see the gears turn on high speed in his brain.
"Here. Let me help", Donatello insisted, his voice gentle as he got closer to your side.
Before you could ask him what he was thinking about, he scooped you up into his arms. Your eyes widened in surprise as you exclaimed a yelp, your hands instinctively wrapping around Donatello's neck for support. Being held in Donatello’s arms, bridal styles, against his hard plastron, you couldn’t help but notice the one thing you had fought against. He was strong, muscular, and actually, quite handsome. You tried to hide the blush that was creeping up on your face, but unbeknownst to you, Donatello had already noticed it. He actually found it quite adorable.
“What’s your name?”, he asked.
“(Y/N)”, you answered.
“Okay (Y/N). You better hold on, because it might become a bit of a rough trip”.
You nodded, adjusting your hold over Donatello’s neck and shoulder.
The journey out of Arkham was a silent one, with Batgirl in the front, looking over each corner before guiding the hostages closer to the exit. In the dim glow of the halfway lights, Donatello stole glances at you, your head resting against his shoulder, eyes looking ahead in anticipation. Donatello was surprised that he could look at someone and find them cute, all while rescuing that same person from a hostage situation. Probably not the best way to handle that situation, but Donnie couldn’t help himself.
After sneaking down what felt like endless halls, you all finally made it to Arkham's main entrance. As you emerged into the cool night air, you looked up at Donatello with gratitude. Your eyes met, and in that moment, something unspoken passed between you. The adrenaline of rushing down the halls, not sure what the next turn would bring, was still flowing in the air.
"Thank you, Donatello", you whispered, as he helped you to sit, outside the iron gates.
He nodded, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Anytime".
You looked into each other’s eyes for what felt like hours, when Batgirl suddenly called out for the purple turtle.
“Donnie, we have to leave. The others might need us in there”.
Donatello nodded, turning to you, a sad smile on his face. “I have to go now. Batman needs us. My brothers need me”.
“Wait! Donnie”, you called out his name, causing him to freeze in place, just as he was about to run. You took his hands, making his brown eyes look at you once more. “If you make it out alive, then I would very much like to see you again”.
Donatello smiled at your statement, giving your hand a small squish. “That can be arranged. See you soon (Y/N)”. With those words he and Batgirl turned and ran back towards the entrance into Arkham Asylum.
#tmnt#teenage mutant ninja turtles#tmnt donatello#tmnt x y/n#tmnt x reader#tmnt x you#tmnt leonardo#tmnt raphael#tmnt michelangelo#tmnt raph#tmnt donnie#tmnt donatello x reader#tmnt donnie x reader#batman vs tmnt donatello#batman vs teenage mutant ninja turtles#batman vs tmnt#batman vs tmnt x reader#batman vs tmnt leonardo#tmnt 2019#batman vs tmnt michelangelo#tmnt vs batman#batman vs tmnt rahpael#batman vs tmnt donnie#batman vs tmnt donatello x reader#batman vs tmnt donnie x reader
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YOUR ART IS SO PRETTY! :) also as a fellow dsmp/batfam lover I was wondering who would be who if you made an au of the other? (From batfam to dsmp or dsmp to batfam, you can choose!) me personally Tommy gives a bit of Damian,,
Hello hello! Thank you very much ✨✨✨ I’m glad you like my art!
About the DSMP x Batfam AU…. I really had to think this one through. I love both of them, but they have such different character dynamics and ideologies. Even the very worlds they are set in are like complete opposites. However, I have also read like so many (so many) superhero AU fics for the DSMP (before the fandom tag got overwhelmingly oversaturated), so I have some thoughts on…
DSMP Characters as The Batfam
You’re right. c!Tommy does feel like he’d be a good match for Damian. Loves animals? Feral? Stabby? Genuinely good? Artistically-inclined? The youngest? If we’re going by characters traits, Tommy would absolutely be Damian… But if I did that, I’d spend way too much time comparing characters who can’t be compared… So my list is going to be based on vibes. Same vibes are also why I’m choosing to make L’Manberg the main members. I’m completely disregarding age, motivations, personality, etc. This is all (mostly) vibes. There is some justification for them.
I wasn’t able to think of a match for everyone, but I got a decent chunk.
Wilbur as Batman
Fundy as Nightwing
Quackity as Oracle
Tommy as Red Hood
Tubbo as Red Robin
Jack as Spoiler
Niki as Batwoman
Ranboo as Black Bat
Slime as Batgirl 2 (also Cass but specifically Batgirl-era)
Eret as Talia
Philza as Ghostmaker
Kristen as Martha and Thomas
Technoblade as Azrael
Karl and Sapnap as Harley and Ivy (who’s who? Idk)
Dream as the entire Rogue Gallery — every single rogue just compressed into one blob of a man
I felt compelled to draw Tommy as a Robin and Red Hood.
Notes under the cut. They’re explanations for what little of my thought process can be converted into comprehensible words. It’s long. I ramble A LOT. Read at your own peril.
I’m pretty sure the obvious explanations are Wilbur, Tubbo, Techno, Karl&Sapnap, and Dream.
c!Wilbur is so much like Bruce Wayne — it’s kind of not funny. There’s the obvious “led children to fight a war” thing, the “compulsively acquiring children because they won’t leave him alone” thing, the “becomes evil immediately after crossing the no kill thing” thing, and the “sad little meow meow wet rag of a man but still extremely charismatic” thing…
c!Tubbo and Tim Drake are the closest 1:1 of this entire list.
Okay, okay. c!Techno as Jean-Paul. The vibes are wrong if we’re talking about canon Azrael, but I’m specifically thinking of fanfiction/“goes to family dinners WFA-style” Azrael.
c!Karl and c!Sapnap have such “married anti-villains befriending the heroes” vibes. I love them so much in superpower AUs even when they’re not with c!Quackity. As I’m writing this, I’m remembering that Schlatt and Quackity are also very often written in a Joker x Harley Quinn situation, but we’re talking about Batfam!
Dream is like the caricature of a Gotham Rogue(TM). He’s got the sympathetic motivation sticky noted onto a decades’ worth of terrorism with only the vaguest hope of redemption that he’ll probably never actually get because he’s too popular as a villain. I could make a point for any character interpretation (both fanpn and canon) of c!Dream as Ivy, Penguin, Riddler, Scarecrow, Black Mask, Joker, etc. (also, not a Rogue, but Ra’s too)
The thing about the DSMP is that it almost feels like a reversal of DC. It’s like a mirror, the same solution from a reversed conclusion. That also means DSMP characters appear un-traumatized and naive then get completely fucked over by the sheer horror that is the SMP, meanwhile DC characters appear fresh from traumatized and find themselves in a position to believe in goodness. The late-stage DSMP was filled with isolation while DC heroes always end up in found families.
It’s why I couldn’t think of a proper match for Damian.
What I loved about late-stage c!Tommy is that he keeps (disguises) that hope and love for people despite everything. Meanwhile, Damian’s character development is learning all that from the ground up. The vibes are similar but not the same. Honestly, for a hot second, I considered Purpled as Damian but alas, not enough Purpled content. If I were to project my own timeline of events upon the DSMP, Purpled would make a great Damian-esque match.
But that does not change the fact that Tommy as Red Hood has the best vibes.
No one else is quite as “doomed by the narrative and irreversibly changed yet somehow still painfully compassionate” in the same way Tommy and Jason are (also the “rejecting their father/brother but still loving them unconditionally). Their vibes are truly something.
I’m also very stern in my belief that c!Tommy should never kill because it would negatively impact his character development, but he very very easily could have gone the Red Hood route. By technicality, it’s more like Tommy as Robin 2, but I so dearly love the potential of villain! and anti-villain!Tommy. It’s such an underutilized concept. (Also I wrote a protege AU like way back and it makes me think of Red Hood now lol)
But originally, I flip-flopped between Fundy as Red Hood and Tommy as Nightwing, but I dunno. The logic was there but the vibes weren’t.
If we were considering a timeline of events, Tommy would make a great Robin 1 with Fundy as Robin 2 . Dick Grayson was the OG child hero, much like Tommy. He was angry and craved justice but he was also full of Light. Meanwhile, c!Fundy grew up in Tommy’s shadow.
However, Fundy also has that “if I can’t make them smile, I’ll make them cry” thing that Villain Dick Graysons also tend to have. Dick is always like four steps away from flipping a switch and becoming a supervillain. He tries so fucking hard to do good, but if he ever determines that “being good” isn’t enough to “do good,” he takes over the world. But Dick would also like step away from toxic energy by holing himself up in his apartment filled with depression, which is exactly what Fundy did.
Fundy and Dick are more “blood-soaked wet cats with strained smiles and bowling alley carpet polos” and Tommy and Jason are more “dramatic Greek tragedies.”
The Batgirls and adjacent female Bat vigilantes came to me immediately, but it’s not as long as the above.
Quackity as Barbara Gordon. He followed Wilbur filled with Hope and Justice. Quackity makes an excellent Batgirl 1. His Las Nevadas arc would then be Oracle but Lawful Evil and also completely isolated from any friends, family, or rational support. Quackity isn’t inherently bad. He still has good intentions, and he’s still good at heart, irregardless of how he portrays himself. He’s the classic femme fatale, including the whole sexist Hollywood “he needs a strong male love interest to take care of him” thing because he is absolutely spiraling on his own. Anyway, I am a fiancés shipper, so this would lead to a Birds of Prey-esque team up of LN and Kinoko.
Jack Manifold has Stephanie Brown’s “glitter bomb in the face” and “functions entirely on spite but also is just really tired of being hurt” energy. Jack isn’t quite Stephanie, but his dynamic with Tubbo made me consider him as Spoiler. Also consider: Jack and The Nuke being Steph’s Robin 4 arc.
Slime is so much like Batgirl-era Cassandra. There’s a lot of “innocent vs naive, manipulated by those with intentions, both evil and morally just” going on. Batgirl!Slime and RH!Tommy would have such a dynamic. I think about Fort Big a lot.
It is literally a crime that c!Jack Manifold and c!Slime never interacted in the DSMP.
Ranboo as Black Bat. I don’t know how to explain it, but Tim Drake and Cassandra have such a great dynamic (albeit one that I’m only familiar with in fanfics). I was originally going to say Ranboo as Orphan, but I don’t think he’s quite there. Maybe GhostBoo as Orphan.
Speaking of ghosts, GhostBur as Carrie Kelley’s Robin. He’s in the wrong places at the wrong times and (unknowingly) shoves himself in situations, and he’s got that unfair “why” going on during Doomsday. Unfortunately, GhostBur suffers from memory loss and is often willfully ignorant. I think in an AU space where’s he’s an actual character and not the echo of an idea, he’d make a great elseworld-type Robin.
c!Niki is a WLW revolutionary war veteran with a very close relationship with Wilbur. There’s more, but again, Vibes.
Now here’s where my hot takes truly lie: Philza as Ghostmaker and Eret as Talia.
We all like Dadza but c!Phil? Absolutely not a Dad. If you actually look at c!Phil without the rose-tinted lens of his content creator’s dad energy, c!Phil and Ghostmaker aere weirdly similar? I really don’t know how to explain it exactly, but I think that Phil would have brought Wilbur up as like this weird amalgamation of BTK-era Bruce, Phantom One, and Clownhunter, leading to Wilbur eventually being… not abandoned because Phil wanted Wilbur to have more independence… but struggling to make it on his own. Eventually, Wilbur would follow his parents’ (Mumza would be Martha AND Thomas) footsteps and become something that’s essentially the same but different. Like how Ghostmaker is basically Tynion’s Batman OC but somehow more edgy except Wilbur is in the opposite direction. Like how Martha and Thomas saved people through philanthropy and surgery and Bruce wanted to save people in his own way too. Phil and Kristen influenced Wilbur towards fighting crime… Also I could totally see c!Phil becoming a crime fighter as a fun and challenging art form rather than any genuine interest in being a good person. c!Phil’s got that immortal dilemma where he’s basically a sociopath running purely on an ingrained and steadily eroding moral code.
Now… Eret as Talia. Where do I begin? I love Talia. She’s such a badass but also she’s a kind person who believes in Bruce’s cause but she’s also extremely loyal to her father’s cause but she loves her family so much but she’s also a assassin princess but the world is against her and everything she is will only continue going downhill until she either becomes straight up evil or stands her ground. I love the characterization of Talia who chose to side with “the greater good” against the person she loves and more has to live with the burden of this decision for the rest of her life and continue to do what needs to be done even, for better or worse… Did I say Talia? I meant Eret. Wait, no, it’s both. That applies to both. Talia’s choice is betraying Bruce to aid her in running a global assassin cult and killing people. Eret’s choice is betraying his revolution to run a monarchy and enforcing taxes. Yes, the vibes are the same.
This has been my TED talk. Thank you for reading this far.
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Hello, Tumblr! This is Red Batty speaking.
I'm all done with school now so, hey! I thought I'd open my ask box for fic requests.
I'm not ready to do straight up smut, but I'm not against something spicier either. I'll just have to make the final call, but I can do the same prompt but milder if I'm not comfortable with the ask. No Yandere either, there's too many impressionable teens on this hell site that might think that's true love and I'm not risking it.
Below are the characters I'm willing to write for!
DC
Justice League Dark
John Constantine
Etrigan/Jason Blood
Zatanna Zatara
Deadman/Boston Brand
Batman/Batfamily
Batman/Bruce Wayne
Robert Pattinson/Batman 2022 version
Comics version
Christian Bale/Dark Knight version
Arkham games version
Anything more niche than that literally just ask I'm probably down, like if he's voiced by Kevin Conroy, I'll probably write for him
Nightwing/Dick Grayson
Red Hood/Jason Todd
I haven't played Arkham Knight yet so Arkham!Jason isn't available yet
Red Robin/Tim Drake
Oracle/Barbara Gordon
I can do Batgirl!Babs also
Batgirl/Cassandra Kain
Spoiler/Stephanie Brown
I'm also open to do Spotlight/Duke Thomas but I know f$%king nothing about him so if its an ask generic enough to apply to any Robin I'm down.
Rogues Gallery
Comics, Arkham games and animated series versions only right now. Well, that and Nolan!Rogues. Just not Bane, don't make me write fic for Rises.
I could do Gotham but it'd have to be plot nonspecific or you'd have to be specific about the ask (not against that) but still,,, yeah ahem anyways
Harley Quinn
Arkham games version
Comics version
Animated series version
Still haven't seen BoP or Suicide Squad so not those versions yet,,, sorry gang
Poison Ivy
I WILL do Harlivy if requested, and Harlivy x reader, and Harlivy x Selina x reader… Basically just send me your ideal fictional polycule and I'll do it. Love wins.
Mad Hatter/Jervis Tetch
Scarecrow/Jonathan Crane
WOOF Cillian Murphy too fine, if not specified that's the version I'm writing
Riddler/Edward Nygma
NOT PAUL DANO VERSION. I'm sorry but the 2022 la version is a little creep and I won't write fic for him
If I get a Joker ask It better be the f$%king Lego Joker ONLY.
Bane
Catwoman/Selina Kyle
Zoe Kravitz Selina my beloved, so hmu for 2022!Selina if you like also
Uhhhh I'm tired and ran out of ideas, If I missed one literally just ask
Justice League
just animated series and comics. No, I haven't seen Snyderverse. Yes, I'll be a little bitchy about it. Shazam and Aquaman and Wonder Woman can stay though. I'll write for live action Aquaman and WW, but not Shazam bc he's. Literally a child. Mkay.
Superman/Clark Kent
Batman (see above)
Green Lantern
John Stewart
Hal Jordan
Wonder Woman/Diana Prince
Aquaman/Arthur Curry
Flash
Wally West
Barry Allen
Green Arrow/Oliver Queen
Haven't seen Arrow in years so bear with me if you want arrowverse!Ollie
Arcane (League of Legends)
Vi
Caitlin
Vi x Caitlin x Reader or any other polycule for that matter
Viktor
Jayce
Silco
Vander
Jinx
Fallout 4
Nick Valentine
Hancock
Piper
Preston Garvey
If there's anyone missing just talk to me about it, thanks guys love u
Skyrim
Brynjolf
Mercer Frey
Vilkas
Farkas
Aela
Serana
Cicero
Adrianne and Ulfberth War-Bear (at Shieldmaiden's)
this one is niche as hell they're not even companions or marriable but I'm putting it on the list
If there's anyone missing just talk to me about it, thanks guys love u
Markiplier Egos
Damien/Darkiplier
Engineer!Mark
William (the colonel)/Wilford (motherloving) Warfstache
Yancy
Illinois Jonesiplier
Heist!Mark (I'm not sure if this is Actor!Mark or not but oh well he's on the list)
Antisepticeye (he almost counts)
Mortal Kombat
I'll do the game or the movie I'm just a bit rustier on game lore, pls bear with me.
Scorpion/Hanzo Hasashi
Sub-Zero/Kuai Liang
Kenshi
Liu Kang
Raiden
Johnny Cage
Sonya Blade
Johnny x Sonya or Johnny x Sonya x reader
Jax Briggs
Kitana
Kano
Kotal Khan
Jade
Cassie Cage
Jacqui Briggs
Kung Jin
Takeda
Marvel
I'm having a bit of a love/hate relationship with the MCU right now so these are the few I'm writing for, if there's someone you want me to write for from comics lore, just hmu and we'll see what I can do for you
Moon Knight
Marc Spector, Steven Grant, Jake Lockley, all together or individually
Doctor Stephen Strange
**or any of his variants.
Also AUs. I'm down for AUs like "in this universe of DS he's like [blank]" so when mcu!DS comes through its like [blank]... you get the idea.
Scarlet Witch/Wanda Maximo
Quicksilver/Pietro Maximoff
I'll do Peter Maximoff also but X-men get their own special section, see below
Loki
2012!Loki
TVA!Loki
President!Loki
Disneyland Loki
X-Men
Its not that I think I'm better than people because I prefer writing comics/animated series it's just. I know that better. And the movies make my head hurt sometimes but a few of them are cool it's literally random so just. Ask.
Cyclops/Scott Summers
(This one for my bestie mwah)
Emma Frost
Nightcrawler/Kurt Wagner
Deadpool (does he count? Fuck it, he was a trainee)
Colossus/Piotr Rasputin
Mystique/Raven Darkhölme
Magneto/Erik (Magnus) Lensherr
This is one I will write straight from the movies because good lord is his character hot as fuck compelling and a dilf well written
Shadowcat/Kitty Pride
Rogue/Anna-Marie
Gambit/Remy LeBeau
Gambit x Rogue x reader, and any other polycule basically
Quicksilver/Peter Maximoff
Storm/Ororo Munroe
There's so many at this point I can't remember them all just ask
Defenders
Daredevil/Matt Murdock
Jessica Jones
Foggy Nelson
Karen Page
Punisher/Frank Castle
I ask that you keep my punisher reqs spoiler free as I'm catching up on the show right now
Spiderverse
Peter Parker
Peter B. (ITSV)
Tom Holland
Andrew Garfield
Tobey Maguire
(I'm rustier on the live action babies so give me grace here)
Spiderman 2099/Miguel O'hara
Spider!Gwen
Spiderman Noir
Spider!Gwen x Andrew Garfield!Spiderman
Spiderman/Miles Morales
He WILL be aged up or shipped with a teen reader, anything else will get doused in gasoline and set on fire.
Eddie Brock/Venom
Note: I'm more willing to do spiderverse x ocs bc I know the spidersona brainrot is real. Hell, at this point, I might do oc x oc content for spiderverse because I've been there (and I've got a bestie with two spider ocs in a ship, love u cas)
Doc Ock/Otto Octavius
Doc Ock/Liv Octavius
Lmao I might do liv x aunt may if its funny or wholesome enough
Mysterio/Quentin Beck
It'll only be mcu!beck if explicitly stated that's what you want.
Green Goblin/Norman Osborne
Electro/Max Dillon
Sandman/Flint Marko
Lizard/Dr. Curtis Connors
If you think I'm missing someone just ask
Umbrella Academy
Luther Hargreeves
Diego Hargreeves
Allison Hargreeves
Klaus Hargreeves
Ben Hargreeves
Viktor Hargreeves
Fka Vanya for anyone not up to speed, he's going by Viktor now that Elliot Page has come out
I will not use she/her pronouns or the name Vanya, if I get a req for Vanya it will be written for Viktor.
Nolan!Verse: Inception & Tenet
Robert Fischer
Eames
Arthur
Saito
Ariadne
I'll do he/him or she/her pronouns for Ariadne following Elliot coming out
The Protagonist
Neil
#constantine x reader#vi x reader#caitlyn x reader#jayce x reader#viktor x reader#x reader#jason blood x reader#arcane x reader#tenet x reader#inception x reader#zatanna x reader#scarecrow x reader#harley quinn x reader#Poison Ivy x reader#harlivy x reader#jervis tetch x reader#edward nygma x reader#hanzo hasashi x reader#skyrim x reader#mortal Kombat x reader#fallout 4 x reader#xmen x reader#marvel x reader#spiderman x reader#batman x reader#red hood x reader#umbrella academy x reader#hargreeves x reader#markiplier x reader#markiplier egos x reader
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Glad to see that I'm not the only one in this fandom who loves Fright lol. You'd think that more people would acknowledge her, since she originated from the Scarebeast comic and even had several ship-worthy moments with Crane, but you NEVER hear about her from anyone.
Sure, she might've betrayed him at the end, but their relationship/friendship was still real to him from his perspective, and I think that alone counts for something. Plus, Becky Albright x Scarecrow is a popular ship, so I don't see why people don't ship him and Fright AU style.
Honestly the whole state of Fright as a character is sad. Because she has so much potential but is never really used for anything. She's been around for nearly 20 years, but she was only used in a fairly major role twice. She had a few reappearances (like in some random Batgirl comic then a fairly recent Catwoman comic), but you never got to learn anything about her as a character or even got to see the full extent of the powers.
(Even if DC didn't want to expand upon the ship, they should've just made her a recurring associate of Scarecrow instead of tacking on the betrayal bit imo. At least then she may have gotten more appearances. Oh well XD)
YES YES YES OH MYYYY GOD!!!! HER AND SCARECROW R MY MAIN SHIP I love them and I think that the dynamic they had was so.. ugh. ❤️
She has the most potential in any underrated DC villian I’ve seen
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My idea for a Batman Animated Series.
In the first season he's that stereotypical year one Batman, dark and gritty, a boogeyman to be whispered about by cops and crooks alike, fighting mostly his more reality grounded enemies like Falcone and Black Mask as he struggles to find balance between being batman and Bruce Wayne, and in the finale we see Batman thwart some mobsters trying to break into Ace Chemicals, led by, you guessed it, Red Hood.
Then, in season 2, things get a bit crazier when characters like Riddler, Mad Hatter, Two Face, Penguin and Catwoman make the scene, but none of them come close to the insanity that is The Joker in the finale.
Then season 3 comes around and we begin to expand on Batman's character and the universe around him, bringing in actual supervillains like Mr Freeze, Man Bat, Poison Ivy, Scarecrow and others, while also bringing in Dick Grayson, who Batman meets as Dick's looking for the man who killed his parents, Batman sees part of himself in Dick and takes him in, and offers to teach him how to be like Batman so he can bring his parent's killer to justice, but over the course of Dick's training it becomes clear Dick is not Batman, hes loud when he should be stealthy, makes jokes in serious situations and takes unnecessary risks because of his overconfidence in his abilities, but after a a fight with Mr. Freeze where he almost dies to protect his wife, Bruce starts to wonder if its better if Dick isn't like him, if he could be a better hero than Batman, and thus Robin is born. It would also be the season we start introducing other heroes, like after fighting Maxie Zeus, Batman has a brief and combative encounter with Wonder Woman, and in another episode stops his long lost friend, Oliver Queen, from killing the man who tried to kill him, and in stead brought him to justice, inspiring him to become a hero like Bruce (he'd get the idea of being green from getting green paint spilled on him and a news photographer getting a picture of "The Dark Knight and The Evergreen Archer.") And another episode where Lex Luthor approaches Bruce about buying some tech, but Bruce shoots him down, knowing all too well Lex would use the tech for evil, but the tech gets stolen so Batman travels to Metropolis and meets Superman, and despite neither trusting or even liking the other, they manage to stop Luthor's evil plot, and it would of course have a scene where Superman x rays Batman's mask and sees he's Bruce Wayne, but Bruce would hit him back by sending Clark Kent a pair of glasses with a note that says "These will help with facial recognition software." after he left.
Then season 4 starts with showing Bruce actually going to therapy, and who's his therapist? Why none other than his old friend from med school Harleen Quinzel. This is the season where we see a softer Batman, one who understand some criminals are as much victims as villains, and really steps up as Bruce Wayne, putting his money towards preventing crime rather than punching it, but not to worry there's still plenty of punching, namely against foes of Bruce and Batman alike, such as Hush, Ra's Al Ghul, and the court of owls. Also in season 4 and episode where Robin wants to hang out with other teen superheroes like Kid Flash, Speedy, Aqualad and Wonder Girl, though with Batman helicoptering to make sure they didn't get into too much trouble. This teenage outing inspires Batman to contact other heroes and form thr Justice League. We'd also introduce Batgirl in there somewhere, where after saw some goons break into a warehouse on Halloween, she put on a Batman costume to try and scare them, but the goons saw through the ruse and started shooting, and then the real Batman shows up and tell Barbara to leave it to him, but she couldn't, and using the skills she had learned from her Father, Jim Gordon, she tracked down the thieves, who had been working for Firefly, and helped the Batman take the villain down, but not before escaping a burning building. Commissioner Gordon approached the two of them, but because of the costume and soot that coated her, couldn't recognize Barbara, when asked Batman said she was part if his team. She and Dick would of course be rivals at first, but after time would become friends, and maybe something more..
Season 5, Dick leaves to become a full time Titan, though it's not because he and Bruce have a big fight, more like he feels like it's time to spread his wings and get out from Batman's shadow. Batman would also meet Jason Todd as he's stealing tires, and after taking him in would ask Dick for advise and eventually his blessing to make Jason the new Robin, Dick would agree saying he was working on a new identity anyway, because it's hard being Robin without Batman. Jason would prove more of a handful than Dick was, angrier, more rebellious.
Season 6, The Joker captures Robin and Batgirl, and after beating Robin to death with a crowbar, shoots Batgirl and leaves her to die next to Robin's body. Batman finds them and goes on a rampage, leaving criminals bloodied and more broken than he ever had in his early years, but none of it mattered in his hunt for The Joker, all the while he's questioning himself, if all the work he's done, both as Batman and Bruce, mattered if monsters like Joker existed, and when Batman finally finds The Joker, he beats him to an inch of his life, and almost finishes the job, but Gordon talks him down. And there's a beautiful funeral scene with other heroes there, but after, we see minions of Talia Al Ghul digging up the grave, and it's revealed that the whole thing was orchestrated by Ra's to try and push Bruce over the edge to get him to his way of thinking, something Ra's and Talia didn't see eye to eye on. And we also get to see Joker, in a full body cast, in Arkham, where doctors are discussing what to do with him, and they decide to call the best psychiatrist in Gotham, Harleen Quinzel.
Season 7, Bane breaks Batman's back and puts him in a coma, in Batman's absence crime goes rampant, and Nightwing comes back to Gotham to take up the mantle of Batman and with Barbara/Oracle's help, take down Bane, but they're not the only ones, Tim Drake and Stephanie Brown both try to be Robin but after a lengthy debate decide Tim can be Robin and Stephanie can be Batgirl, Kate Kane, Bruce's cousin becomes Batwoman, Luke Fox, son of Bruce Wayne's tech developer Lucius Fox, becomes Batwing, and even Azrael shows up. Dick, of course, tries to tell the others to leave Bane to him, but even dressed like Batman Dick isn't a convincing Batman, so he takes what he's learned, both from working alongside Batman and from leading the Titans, and leads newly assembled Bat Family to bring Bane down and restore order to Gotham. At which point Bruce wakes up and Dick leaves joking that "they're you're problem now." And at the end we get a little glimpse of the next Big Bad, Red Hood/Jason Todd.
Season 8, After the defeat of Bane by the Bat Family left a power vacuum in Gotham's criminal underworld, Red Hood and his gang of Outlaws take over the streets, leaving death in their wake, but the Bat Family is having trouble dealing with them because somehow the Outlaws know exactly what the Bat Family is going to do, and then it's revealed that Red Hood was Jason Todd and he's mad at Bruce, and it's very emotional, but when Jason puts a gun to Bruce's head, Bruce says he's sorry and accepts his fate, but when Jason can't pull the trigger Talia Al Ghul steps out from the shadows and reveals how she was the mastermind behind the whole thing, how she brought Jason back to life and brainwashed him into being the Red Hood, then uses a sleeper agent code phrase on Jason to make him kill Bruce, but Bruce manages to beat Jason. Talia escapes and Bruce takes Jason back to the cave to try and un brainwash him. Meanwhile Talia crawls back to her father and agrees to his plan, whatever it may be.
Season 9 Joker's back and has Harley Quinn with him, and in a moment alone woth Batman, Harley reveals how she knows Bruce is Batman, but she won't tell because "Mistah J ain't interested in the man under the bat," but it ends with Harley betraying the Joker because she realizes he doesn't love her. Afterwards we get to see Harley being put in a cell in Arkham next to Poison Ivy.
Season 10/Final Season. Ra's Al Ghul declares war on Gotham and exposes Bruce as Batman, but with the help of his family, including Jason who's no longer brainwashed and in his spare time built The Batmobile, and the help of various villains, including Catwoman who says if they survive this they should run away together, they manage to stop Ra's' plan to destroy Gotham, but not before Bruce gets stabbed in the side by a young boy who escapes with Talia as Ra's lays dying. And as the sun begins to rise, all of the Bat Family gathered wonder what happens next, now that they're secret identities have been revealed, but a voice from behind tells them not to worry, as the previously invisible figure presses a button on his wrist a wave of energy pulses over Gotham. The figure says he used some of the Mad Hatter's tech to erase the memories of the Bat Family's secret identities from everyone's mind who didn't know before. Then the figure briefly mentions he's Batman from the future and that they shouldn't worry about Damien, "after all, it's hard being evil when you're the son of Batman." which surprises everyone, "you did know he was your son, right? Uh...gotta go!" Then he disappears. Then we see them all returning to Wayne manor, Alfred sweeping up glass from a broken window, and says "Ah, I see we've survived another night, shall I get the celebratory champagne?" Jason nonchalantly replies "We met a Batman from the Future and Bruce has a son." Alfred processes the information and says "The good whiskey, then." Then as Bruce is getting his stab wound stitched he says he thinks it's time he retired as Batman, the others protest, but Bruce continues to say its just for now, how after everything that's happened he trusts his team, his family, to keep Gotham safe in his absence. Then we see later, at night as Commissioner Gordon stands next to the batsignal on the roof of the gcpd, about to light his pipe Dick, dressed as Batman says "those thing's'll kill ya, ya know." Then the two of them talk about how Batman had retired, for now, and left Gotham in Dick's hand, and Gordon contemplates retirement, and wonders what would happen to the city without him, what would happen to Barbara, to which Dick replies "I wouldn't worry about Barbara, she's made of some pretty tough stuff." Gordon agrees, but when he turns around to ask how Nightwing knows his daughter, Dick's gone and Gordon says to himself "I guess some things never change."
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CILLIAN MURPHY MASTERLIST
For Cillian Murphy, I'll write for:
- Jonathan Crane
- Robert Fischer
If you have a request, please try to stick to these, but if you want something else, just message me or ask, I'll see what I can do :p
-
Scarecrow/Jonathan Crane
Office Hours/Bells Series
Professor Crane x Fem!Reader
Summary: Y/n, a university student, forms an unexpected friendship with Professor Jonathan Crane. But are his intentions what he says they are?
Secret Ties !!READ WARNINGS!!
Warnings: Obsessive behaviour, Professor x Student, incest (uncle/niece), fear gas, forced kissing, kidnapping
Summary: At a university charity ball, Y/n meets the Professor of Psychology and things turn south from there on out.
Behind The Mask - Jonathan Crane x Fem!Reader (ONESHOT)
Pairing: Jonathan Crane x Fem!Reader - Scarecrow x Batgirl!Reader
Summary: (REQUEST) While chasing down the Scarecrow in Gotham, Y/n forms an unexpected bond with the mysterious figure. As their relationship deepens, Y/n finds herself navigating the blurred boundaries between friend and foe.
You Are The Right One
Pairing: High School!Jonathan Crane x Fem!Reader
Summary: !!Request!! High school was a cesspool of misery for Jonathan. After the cruel prank from his crush and biggest bully, he believed his days would be forever marred by the shadows of ridicule and isolation. Until a beacon of light emerged in the form of one girl who reached out with a helping hand.
-
Neil Lewis
Neil Lewis with a Goth Girlfriend Headcanon
#fanfic#smut#jonathan crane fanfic#jonathan crane#jonathan crane x reader#peaky blinder fanfic#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy scarecrow#cillian x reader#cillian fic#cillian murphy
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Do you have any fav ships/ pairings? Ciao from Sicily btw 👋🏼
Ciao hey hi anon! Sicily?????!! 🫨
International love I’m beyond honored!! 🤧😭😭😭😭🥹I hope you mean ships within the DC universe lol if not blame my insomnia for not reading the ask correctly
I’m here for Batman x Joker anyday! They know they in love!!! Stop denying it! Nightwing and Batgirl (comic wise) Of course Joker with reader and shockingly! Bruce x reader or Bruce x Selina. (Bruce is canon a hoe😂) why he got so many love interests? He just raw dogging it out here with assassins and tv reports too. Community dick. Moving on…
Jason Todd is my first love and I’ll ship him with whoever treats him like gold. Which is only the reader.
I don’t tolerate toxic relations so I don’t care for Joker x Harley. I was so happy when she left him (Poison Ivy where you at?!)
Uhh sometimes I read Riddler fics, Scarecrow, a Bane story if I hate myself. Mr. Fries is devoted to his wife Nora no exceptions. I’m rambling and it’s 2am here. I really should be sleeping 🤣
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BATMAN: FEAR STATE!!
Batman #116-117
#fear state dc#batman#miracle molly#harley quinn#ghostmaker#batgirl#oracle#scarecrow#the magistrate#peacekeeper-01#peacekeeper-x#simon saint#poison ivy#dc comics#i posted this
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Batgirl Begins:
Description: Barbara Gordon has watched time and time again those around her sacrifice everything for the sake of their beloved Gotham City. Now, with the Batman mysteriously absent, and a mad warlord on the rampage, the time has finally come for her turn to risk it all in the name of protecting Gotham. [A TDKR re-imagining, as if Barbara had been included in the movies]
Read it here on FF.net
Chapters: 31 / 31 (Complete)
Blog Masterlist:
#the dark knight rises#batgirl#batman#gotham#DC#DCU#dcu fanfic#barbara gordon#john blake#barbara x dick#bane#bruce wayne#selina kyle#bruce x selina#talia al ghul#tdk#tdkr#jim gordon#scarecrow#gordon#Black canary#ithebookhoarder#thesilentmage#Robin#batgirl x robin
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The Flash & Batgirl must team up to liberate Scarecrow. It will end in chaos
— Jason Todd (@Jason_P_Todd_)
May 23, 2018
#IFTTT#The Flash#Barry Allen#Batgirl#Barbara Gordon#Stephanie Brown#Cassandra Cain#Scarecrow#Jonathan Crane#meme: x and y must team up to z a it will end in b
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