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ailithnight · 1 year

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A King In Arkham

Henceforth, you will need an AO3 account to read this there.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Danny was having a very confusing week.

It started with being kidnapped from his room in Arkham by a human tank that called himself Red X. Red X took him to a "safehouse" which was actually a repurposed warehouse. Then fed him the first non-hospital meal he'd had had in months.

Danny is a bit ashamed to admit he moaned at the first bite of a burger from the local fast food franchise. He'd all but forgotten how good food could be. Despite the mask, Danny got the impression that X was giving him a look at the sound. What kind of look, Danny wasn't sure.

Confusion or amusement would make sense. Danny could certainly imagine himself confused or amused if he heard someone moan into their Nasty Meal. But for some reason, some instinct told him that the emotion behind the look was closer to anger with an undercurrent of sorrow. Which Danny just couldn't wrap his head around. What about him appreciating a good burger could make X angry and/or sad?

Then again, maybe Danny shouldn't bother trying to wrap his head around Red X's behavior at all. The whole experience with him made no sense. He kidnaps Danny, apparently as a favor for someone who wasn't Vlad. Feeds his victim and puts him in bed. (Its too soft, too warm, Danny can't sleep in it. X gives him another one of those weird looks when he finds Danny splayed out, not quite dozing on the cool concrete floor.)

And the next day just, drops Danny off in some random woman's office at the Gotham Gazette's headquarters. Leaving him there at the ass crack of dawn like his job was done, instead of meeting with anyone to hand Danny off to whoever he'd been kindnapped for. Nothing about his interactions with Red X made any sense.

But of course, that was just the start of the week.

The woman who came in to find Danny in her office then proceeded to, well, scream first, which was an entirely justified reaction to finding an Arkham patient in you office the day after a break out. But then, instead of turning him over to the authorities, she gave him a bottle of water and proceeded to spend the next several hours 'interviewing' him. It was afternnon before she finally called security to have Danny returned to Arkham. If he hadn't still been so used to skipped meals from his time Before, he's sure his body would have been protesting the extended interview loudly.

Once the police picked him up, they interrogated him for another few hours about how he escaped. Danny was nothing but honest, though of course they didn't believe him. No one did these days. But that's okay. Eventually they were able to pull the Arkham security tapes to corroborate Danny's story. Once the saw it for themselves, they finally relented and called a transport truck to take Danny home.

Of course, then the Arkham guards had to spend an hour reprimanding him for the 'escape attempt'. He tells them earnestly that he had nothing to do with his own kidnapping. No one believes that of course. It seems they think that Danny's previous good behavior was a manipulation tactic.

They tell him no one will be falling for that again. That's fine. They tell him he's lost privileges for a month. That's fine too. Tell him he's lucky they don't move him to the max security wing. Danny doesn't think he'd mind if they did.

Finally, finally, they let him go back to his room around 7:30. It's a couple hours yet until lights out, but Danny doesn't care. He almost collapses into the thin mattress. It is by no objective means comfortable. But it is familiar. And Danny finds comfort in that. He falls asleep easily.

Some hours later, after lights out, Danny jolts awake from a... dream? It wasn't quite a good dream, but it wasn't quite The Nightmare either. It's already slipping out of his mind, but he has the vague sense it involved X and burgers and a chill creeping in his throat.

It must couldn't have been an entirely pleasant dream. For one, Danny doesn't get good dreams anymore. For another, he opens his eyes to a familiar black void hovering above him, the pit in his stomach deepening with her lingering touch.

As much as her presence makes his sins weigh heavier on his soul, Danny can't help but give Spectra a small smile. That... startles her, he thinks. In an instant, the cool hand leaching warmth and resonating with that hollow ache inside him is gone. He misses it.

The next morning, Danny has a new therapist, again. Seeing this one is a punch in the gut. There aren't really a bunch of similarities. Just blue-green eyes and long red hair. But just those 2 is enough to hurt. To remember that Jazz will never get to be here, sitting in that chair, talking to her patients, making Arkham a better place like she'd wanted ever since she heard Harley Quinn's story. Jazz will never get to chase her dreams and it's all his fault.

Danny tries, he really does and even mostly succeeds, to not get lost in his own head while they go through the normal routine. It's always the same question. Except... this time it deviates. Dr. Sparrow doesn't press at the self harm issue like all the others. She presses her lips, clearly dissatisfied with Danny's answer, but she lets it slide.

"Would you like to talk about the break out, Danny?" For the first time in 3 long months, Danny has heard a new question. Of course it's that one, but still, it's new. Danny can't decide whether or not he likes it. He shrugs.

"It happened. I got kidnapped." Dr. Sparrow is looking at him weird. She doesn't look unhappy or doubtful. In fact, she almost looks understanding, like she believes him. She looks too much like Jazz. It hurts. Danny looks away.

"You understand why it is difficult to believe you were an unwilling victim, don't you, Danny?" He shrugs. "Not only are very few people privy to the information that you are a patient here, but security footage also doesn't show you putting up any kind of a fight against your supposed kidnapper." She even sounds like Jazz, presenting her logical arguments.

"I... I don't know what you want me to say." She sighs.

"I just want to understand. I can't help you if you don't talk to me, Danny." I can't help you if you don't talk to me, Little Brother. Danny can't help the full body flinch. Anger, misplaced aggression surges under his skin. It feels like ice in his veins.

"Understand what! Everyone I love is dead because of me! Because I tried to take one shortcut and couldn't handle the consequences! And this! This is the better outcome! This time I won't hurt any more people." The reminder of what his grief causes makes the anger evaporate, leaving behind that familiar hollowness. "That's all that matters. As long as I don't get anyone else killed... Vlad is the only one who could hurt me in any way that matters. S'long as I don't end up with him, I don't care."

Danny is pretty sure he knows what J- Dr. Sparrow is going to say about that. He doesn't want to hear it. He can't stand to hear it. So he lets his mind slip away. When he tunes back in, the guard is there to escort him back to 26B. He glances at Dr. Sparrow. Her grim frown and worried eyes are too familiar. It makes the hollowness shudder, a spark of oh so dangerous care catching inside.. He wants to... he needs to...

"I'm sorry, Dr. Sparrow. For shutting down." Her eyes widen, concern vanishing into shock. "You remind me of my sister. She wanted to be a psychologist here too." With that, he turns around and lets the guard lead him back to his room.

The rest of the day is mostly a haze to Danny. He's peripherally aware of someone bringing around lunch, then later dinner. Danny briefly picks at the food, but he doesn't think he's hungry.

The third day starts with them telling him Dr. Sparrow cancelled there therapy session. She won't be seeing him anymore.

That's good.

She doesn't need to waste her valuable care on him. She's better off treating someone who could actually get better. Someone who can do more than just not cause trouble. Someone worthy of a life outside of Arkham.

It'll take them at least a day or 2 to assign him a new doctor. Danny expects the rest of the day to be a blur in his room. But some time after lunch, a guard comes and escorts him to a section of the hospital Danny has never been before. The visitation wing. There, waiting in a small privacy room, is the Head Doctor, the Cheif of Security, and a stranger in a trench coat who for some reason makes Danny's skin crawl with a desire to get very far away very fast.

The Cheif of Security looks at Trench Vibes, clearly disgruntled. "Is this really necessary?"

Trench Vibes responds in a heavy British accent. "Official Justice League Dark business, mate." Danny's surprise is almost enough for him to actually feel it. "Word has it, kid's got ghosts. I'm just hear to check up on that." Head Doctpr sputters a moment.

"Surely you don't mean to imply the ghost's could actually exist? Ghosts are not real, sir." Trench Vibes snorts.

"Sure. Next you'll tell me that magic ain't real either." Head Doctor opens his mouth to rebut, but then a golden light swirls around Trench Vibes' fingertips and that seems to make the Doctor rethink a few things. "Now, if you'll give me a few minutes with the kid, then I'll be out of your hair." He waits for the Doctor, Chief, and guard to all leave the room before he even looks at Danny. "I really hope I don't have to be the one to tell you your a little bit dead, kid."

"Danny."

"John Constantine."

Welp, no reason to lie here. ". . . I know I'm half ghost."

"Good. Well, not good that you're half dead, but good that you know. That would not be a fun conversation. Not that this one is much better. You're being haunted?"

"Not much anymore. It's okay." Trench Vibes, John Constantine, just gives Danny a disbelieving look. "Honest Mr. Constantine. I think they're getting bored since I won't fight them anymore."

"Anymore?"

"I'm from Amity Park. Ghost fights were a pretty regular thing there."

"I'm sorry, what? You're telling me there's a town under seige by ghosts and we didn't know about it?"

"You didn't... know? I mean, it's probably fine now. The ghosts mostly came to give me grief. Plus, I'm sure Vlad has dismantled my parent's portal by now."

"Portal?"

"To the Ghost Zone."

"Your parents had a portal to the Infinite Realms!?"

"Is that what you call the swirling green place?" Mr. Constantine sighs. He reaches a hand into his coat, but comes up empty. Whatever he was reaching for must have been confiscated before he could bring it into the hospital.

"So let me get this straight. Your parents opened a portal to the... Ghost Zone. No doubt flooded your whole town with enough ambient ecto to allow powerful physical manifestations. You somehow ended up half dead. Ghost start appearing. They fight you, you fight back, and now that you've left this Amity Park, those ghosts followed you here to continue haunting you."

"Pretty much."

"Why did you stop fighting back?"

". . . We aren't in Amity anymore. They can't hurt anyone."

"They've been hurting you." Trench Vibes has a scathing deadpan. If Danny could muster any feeling, he might be ashamed. Of course, as it were the closest thing he's experiencing to feeling right now is that prickling sensation that he should not be anywhere near Mr. Constantine.

"They can't hurt anyone that matters." Mr. Constantine abruptly stands.

"Nope. Nope, nope, nope. I am not equipped for this. I am reporting back to the Bat and then I guess I'm going to Illinois to figure out what the hell happened and why Dark didn't know about it." Mr. Constantine vanishes in a flash of light. A few seconds later, the guard comes and takes Danny back to his room.

At some point during day 4, Walker visits. Again, the surprise is almost strong enough to break through the cold hollow feeling in his chest. Almost. Walker had only visited once, the day they sent him here, to gloat over seeing the Halfa Punk finally imprisoned for his crimes.

The warden glances around his empty room, then settles for staring at Danny. Time passes, lunch and dinner a blur where Danny, for the 4th day in a row, barely eats a third of each meal. Walker is stares at him the whole time. It's kind of creepy and Danny almost wants to snap at him. Almost. Instead he lies on. his cot and traces cracks in his ceiling like he's looking at constellations. Finally, just after lights out, Walker does more than stare. He speaks.

"Effective immediately, your previous sentencing has been overturned and all other charges are dropped. You are no longer Wanted, punk. Keep your nose clean. I never want to see you in my prison again." Danny spends most of the night thinking about Walker's change of heart and not being wanted as a ghost anymore.

The fifth day is mostly normal. Spectra shows back up. Danny doesn't make the mistake of smiling at her or acknowledging her at all really. He doesn't want to scare her off again. He missed her. She seems upset. She practically gouges his heart out with the ferocity with which she plunges her clawed hand into his chest to feast. She's not in the slightest gentle with how she drags more and more misery from him, through him. Danny doesn't mind the ache. He's just happy, to whatever empty extent he can be happy, that someone is reaping some meager benefit from his still beating heart.

Day 6 passes much the same with Spectra hovering over him the whole day.

Finally, day 7. The final day to finish out the most disorienting week of Danny's short life. The grand finale of confusion starts with Danny back in the visitation wing. Spectra stays with him right up until they walk into that same little room from 3 days ago, where Danny sees Mr. Kincaid, the social worker he met once when he arrived in Gotham, and a man in a fancy business suit. Mr. Business stands up and smiles, looking for all the world like Danny had made his day by walking in the room.

"Hello Danny, my name is Bruce Wayne."

#A King in Arkham #my writing #dpxdc #DP x DC

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samgirl98 · 11 months

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Zombie Son 2/2

Batman stared at the pictures of Joker’s dead body. Something wasn’t adding up.

The official reports said that Joker had been killed by a guard at Arkham when there had been a breakout. However, Batman had never seen that guard before, and he disappeared right after killing Joker.

The shot had been a single bullet to the head. Almost like an assassin had done it instead of a random security guard who would’ve been scared mindless. Something told Batman this had been done professionally; it was too clean, too quick.

“Still looking at the pictures of Joker’s body?” Dick walked in wearing a pair of sweatpants and a white t-shirt, “maybe you should let it go and count your blessings.”

“Hn,” he grunted. Batman, no Bruce, couldn’t let it go. This is the man that killed his child. Joker was dead now, and he had to know who and why. Batman pulled up the death report again, and he heard Dick sigh.

“Seriously, can you at least go to sleep? The case will be there when you wake up tomorrow.”

He ignored Dick; Bruce didn’t want to admit to his eldest that sleeping had become an ordeal after Joker’s death. He only saw Jason’s limp body; he heard his son’s cry asking for him, only to get there too late. No, working on the Joker’s murder was more productive than sleeping.

“Bruce, you’ve been up for almost thirty hours; go to sleep.”

Bruce looked up when he heard the ping. He had run the guard’s face through a facial recognition program, and it had finally found a match.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Dick said.

It was time for Batman to talk to Waller.

____

Amanda Waller was drinking a cup of wine when Batman entered her office.

“What do you want, rich boy?”

“You put a hit out on the Joker. Why?”

Waller sipped her wine and answered, “I have no idea what you mean.”

Batman threw two pictures on her desk.

“Mark Burkhardt, he works for you, and he was the one who shot the Joker. So, once again, why did you put a hit on the Joker?”

“Listen, Batboy, what the US government does is none of your concern.”

“Anything that happens in my city is my concern.”

“I would’ve thought you’d be happy he’s dead, considering what he did to Robin number two.”

Batman clenched his fists. Waller knew she was playing with fire but couldn’t help herself. Riling Batman up was just so much fun.

Batman suddenly slammed his hands on her desk, “Why did you kill the Joker?”

She sighed; Amanda had told Alicia Batman wouldn’t let this go but, oh well, she did her part. What happened next would be none of her concern.

“It was a favor to an old colleague of mine. It was done off the books; officially, the US government had nothing to do with this though they did turn a blind eye to it when they found out it was that terrorist.”

“Who put the hit out?”

“Alicia Walker,” she did tell Amanda to send Batman her way if he ever showed up.

“Why did she put a hit out on him?”

“I don’t know; you’d have to ask her. Now get out of my office.”

Amanda took another sip of her wine, and when she looked up, Batman was gone.

“Hmph, good riddance.” Amanda picked up the phone and dialed Alicia, “The Bat was here. Be prepared to see him soon.”

She hung up before the other woman could respond.

____

Alicia Walker, retired A.R.G.U.S agent, brought up her shotgun and pointed it at the shadowed man in her little cabin.

“I’ve been expecting you; what do you want?”

A lesser person would be coward by the looming shadow of the Batman, and indeed, he was a terrifying figure, what with all the black kevlar and white-out lenses. Alicia wasn’t a lesser person.

“You put a hit out the Joker. Why?”

“Why not,” she retorted, “he was the scum of the earth. Considering what he did to your bird, I don’t know why you care.”

Batman tensed.

“What makes you say that,” he growled.

Alicia rolled her eyes.

“I was part of the US government; we know everything, Wayne.”

Alicia turned her back to the man to get her moonshine. When she turned back around, Batman was gone.

“Hmph,” she took out her phone, “he’s been here. Be prepared to have him appear at your doorsteps. And say hi to my niblings for me.”

____

“Do you think it’s really him?” Dick asked in a whisper.

“Hn,” was Bruce’s brilliant response.

In front of him was a picture of the Fenton family. There was the mother, the father, the daughter, and two sons.

It was the youngest that had caught their attention. It was Jason. A little older but him. Bruce would recognize his son anywhere.

He had pulled up the adoption papers the Fentons had signed. They had found ‘Jay Fenton’ comatose in the streets of Gotham. The only thing the boy would say was ‘Bruce.’

The boy was allowed to be adopted by the Fentons after they pulled some strings.

“It’s him. I know it is.”

“So, what are we going to do now?”

“Now, I’m going to Amity Park.”

____

Jason knew that Bruce, that Batman, would show up sooner rather than later. That doesn’t mean he was prepared to find Bruce standing in his parents’ living room, demanding to let them see Jason.

“What are you doing here?” Jason asked with vitriol.

This was the man that had not avenged him, that had let his murderer walk free. If it hadn’t been for the Fentons, that sorry excuse of a man would still be wasting oxygen.

“Jay lad,” Bruce whispered. He took a step toward Jason; Jay took a step back.

“What do you want?”

Bruce gulped, “I want my son back.”

Jay snorted.

“I’m not your son; I stopped being your son when you let that clown walk the streets. I am the Fenton’s son.”

“Jay lad, please.”

“No! You let my murderer live! How, why?”

“I don’t kill, Jay lad. I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t? You have such an antiquated moral code that you let murderers roam the street and take more innocent lives!”

“Jason, please, I’m sorry I let you die—”

“You think this is because you let me die? Bruce, I forgive you for that, but why in good God was the Joker still breathing? I come back and—and my killer is still around. Nothing changed. No, wait, you put a different kid in the Robin suit. You replaced me rather quickly.”

“He isn’t a replacement, Jason! No one could ever replace you; you’re my son!”

“No, I’m not.”

Jason walked up to his mom.

“I’m their son, and I suggest you leave, Bruce.”

Bruce stared at Jason before nodding reluctantly.

“Very well, but please take this. If you ever need anything, call me.”

Bruce turned to walk away and then turned to look at Jason one more time.

“I’m glad you’re alive, Jason. I missed you.”

“Get out,” Jason said.

When Bruce closed the door behind him, Jason turned and hugged Jack and Maddie, crying.

“It’s okay, sweetie, we’re here.”

“Yeah, Jay,” his dad bellowed, “we’ll always be here.”

Jason let himself be comforted by his parents. He looked down at the card Bruce had left him, crumpled it up, and then put it in his pocket.

@fisticuffsatapplebees @suppengott @mur-ururu @daemonlogical @aikoiya @learning-to-fly-on-my-own @rubber-ducky-your-the-one @overtherose @thegatorsgoose @kisatamao @emergentpanda-blog @skulld3mort-1fan @why-must-i-be-like-this @nappinginhell @onlyhereforthechaos @mlpizza @currant-owo @hoarder-of-gender @malice-of-the-sunrise @regressor-marina @joseph557 @stargirl1331 @yjfk @fandomnerd103

#dc x dp #zombie son #dp x dc

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krashoutluv · 2 months

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Ooo comic! Jason with an s/o or even friend who works at Arkham? Maybe as a doctor or guard, either way they're around criminals all day *and* the clown that wiped Jason off the census. I feel like he'd be so worried about them eveytime they go to work, not at all trusting Arkham's security and corruption.

IDK IF THIS WOULD WORK BC AS SOON AS JASON FINDS OUT HES MAKING THEM QUIT OR SETTING UP A PLAN FOR THEM TO SNEAK HIM INSIDE SO HE CAN KILL JOKER LMAOO

i cant see him being just worried, he’d totally go fuckin insane

“hey babe, i made this bomb, your gonna go inside its gonna blow up the entire place you have like 15 minutes to get out. How fast can you run again—nono wait listen this thing will—“ LWBDIANAJSHA

this would make such a fun comedic fic lol

#|| 🪼krash responds to u #🪼krash writes jason todd hcs #🪼krash writes about jason todd #🪼krash writes jason todd x reader

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phobia-sweets · 1 year

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Hope you don't mind but can ya write Arkham-verse Scarecrow & Riddler with S/O who was a former Arkham Security Guard before they fell for them and later joined them?

after this is posted i'm rewarding (actually punishing) myself by playing iron banner

Arkhamverse! Riddler & Scarecrow x reader

Warnings / Notes: uhhhhhhhhh captivity is briefly mentioned lol and riddler is a lil bitch

SCARECROW

- Before the croc incident, Many guards avoided dealing with Jonathan more than was necessary. He knows how to get under people’s skin, he doesn’t need his toxin to scare people. People that had dealt with him in the past knew this. The Toxin just made his job easier, more effective.

- So guards took turns dealing with him so that no one had to be with him too much. Especially after he managed to poison his doctor with fear toxin he disguised as cologne.

- But you found him intirguing. Fear is a strong motivator. You knew this, working as a guard – A lot of them would try to scare patients into obedience, which worked. It obviously didn’t work on Jonathan, which frustrated some of the guards. Your approach with him was more polite, if anything.

- But it was just that all hell broke loose on arkham island when you were sick at home. You wouldn’t have even known about it if it wasn’t for the news being all about it. Of course word came from your coworkers that Crane was nowhere to be found, but a bag of his toxin and mask was laying in the sewers, where croc was. You assumed the worst.

- As far as everyone was concerned, The scarecrow – Jonathan Crane was dead. Until he showed up, his face replaced by burlap and thread.

Hiding behind barrels of what you presumed were fear toxin, you held your breath. Your colleagues always said your curiosity would be the death of you. It surely started to seem that way as you listened to Jonathan Crane’s gravelly voice as he talked to someone – a soldier? He didn’t seem the type to work with soldiers. But then again, it’s been quite a long time since he ‘died’.

“May I help you?”

In your panic, you hadn’t heard the soldier leave and footsteps approach you. Looking up, you were met with blank, milky eyes and the sight of four needles attached to a gauntlet. You’d admire the craftsmanship if it weren’t for the fact that they were dangerously close to your face.

- Were you drugged? Probably. You don’t really remember.

- what started out as captivity turned into you helping around in Gotham before his announcement of, well, feargassing Gotham.

- When did feelings join the equation? A bit before halloween. Did you make them known? Not exactly. Jonathan didn’t seem like the person to bother with feelings that weren’t fear or terror. But you swore you could catch him quietly chuckle at some of your quips or comments.

RIDDLER

- You were probably one of the only people that actually bothered with his riddles – whether you got it wrong or right, you would try to answer them. ‘Maybe it’ll keep him off my skin’ you thought. It did not.

- If anything, it made him bother you even more. If you got them wrong, he’d obviously insult you, but if you got them right…? He would compliment you as if you were a stupid child. Very demeaning.

“Mr. Nygma, I’ve brought you your food.” You said nonchalantly, setting the tray on a table. Nygma quite often refused to eat in the cafeteria – said something about being surrounded by complete morons and how he could feel his braincells dying the more he had to spend time in there. So, As you seemed to be the only guard that didn't care about his insults on your intelligence, you volunteered to be the one to bring him his food. Arkham wasn’t exactly known for bending to the patient’s wills, but as much as Edward wouldn’t attack you, no one wanted to listen to his insults.

“I have billions of eyes, Yet I live in darkness. I have millions of ears, yet only four lobes. I have no muscle, yet I rule two hemispheres. What am I?” Edward’s voice echoed.

“Ah, the… the human brain? Right?” You guessed, facing to look at edward. He simply gave a quiet “hmph.” And resumed reading his book. Turning around, you left.

-time skip to when either he escapes or you helped him escape. Why did you help him? Not even you knew how or why, but you fell for him. Hard.

- Trying to see if he felt anything towards you was hard. Especially since he would avoid answering some of your questions and being… well, himself, with his riddles and big words.

- When you began actively helping him with placing his trophies around Arkham city, bringing him whatever tools he needed, he seemed to start… relaxing in your prescense? Atleast he wasn’t as irritated in your prescense as he was before. A good sign, hopefully.

#arkhamverse scarecrow x reader #arkhamverse riddler x reader #jonathan crane x reader #the riddler x reader #scarecrow x reader #edward nygma x reader

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mid-nightowl · 7 months

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TRICK OR TREAT HI

WAFFLE HI HELLO <3 <3 <3 🎃🎃🎃

hope your cool with more fem!jay stuff xD i bounced between showing a few different wips but im just gonna drop this playboy bunny dick + fem!jay piece that was inspired by this and this.

🎃❤️

“I’m curious, did that actually work?” Jaye leans against the doorframe, her eyes trailing down golden, glistening skin.

Not that Dick can tell that she’s quite clearly checking him out from underneath her helmet. She does have a reputation to keep and a hero-worshiping, puppy-love, teenage crush that clearly didn’t die with her to hide.

Dick rolls his eyes, tugging at the black and white collar-bowtie secured around his neck. Tightly wrapped in dark leather spandex and fishnets, his playboy bunny outfit does not hide how fucking gorgeous he is.

“Not for the one we actually needed,” He huffs, adjusting the cuffs on his wrists. He gives her a soft smile—and it only makes her feel awful for checking him out.

Honeypot traps and the like are the least favorite type of mission for any Bat. For Dick—every hero, anti-hero, and villains’ wet dream—he must absolutely hate them.

“That’s…surprising?” As soon as it leaves her mouth, she winces.

Good going, Jaye.

He chuckles, resting his hands on his hips and shaking his head.

“You know, that’s what everyone said tonight—you, Barbara, Donna, Roy, Tim, Steph, seriously everyone,” He blows a loose strand of hair out of his eyes and grins at her. “But Madame May clearly did not want to take me home so I could steal the info she has.”

She jerks, her helmet thudding against the doorframe and derailing her own awful, impure thoughts of taking Dick home herself. She hisses, pushing off the frame and shaking her head.

Of course, Madame fucking May.

“Jaye?” Dick frowns, taking a step towards her. She shakes her head, waving him off.

“Why are you guys looking into Madame May?” She asks. His baby blues narrow just a fraction before he crosses his arms.

It does not help her or her train of thought. The leather bodysuit barely covers his nipples, crossing his arms (and oh man his arms, Jaye knows Dick can throw all the Bats around, being an acrobat and all, but goddamn) shifts the leather down just a smudge, his pecs (or as Steph would call his wonderful man-boobs but “in a nice way!”) barely contained in the tight spandex.

She kind of wants to bite ‘em. She really wants to bite 'em.

“Babs and Steph are working a trafficking ring case. They think Madame May is the leader here in Gotham but they-” Dick starts to explain.

“Can’t prove it?” She gestures, nodding and trying very hard not to let her gaze drop.

She may need to go fist fight Killer Croc or Bane after this just to feel a semblance of normalcy. Or maybe she should take Artemis’ advice and spend a week in Bana-Mighdall and get this shit out of her system.

Dick hums, tilting his head a bit. One of the bunny ears droops down and he sighs, popping his hip out and reaching up to quickly set it back straight.

Oh yeah, no. She’s fucked. No amount of the bisexual wet dreams Artemis promises her is going to fix her absolute nightmare of a crush on Dick.

“Sounds like you know her,” Dick comments.

She snorts, “Oracle or Batgirl didn’t ask me shit.”

“I’m asking,” He states. This time, she crosses her arms and stares him down.

“I’ll buy you dinner from that Vietnamese place.” Dick counters her stare, lips curling into a grin when she narrows her eyes.

“C’mon Jay, I know it’s your favorite, and,” He leans over just a bit, hands on his hips, tapping his high-heel against her shin guard. “I know you haven’t been since the last Arkham breakout.”

She rolls her eyes, inwardly groaning at both his frustratingly consistent badgering and the absolute drool-worthy view she gets of his chest.

This is what she gets for “rejoining” the family. Everyone in her damn business and the inability to kill her heart (and hormones).

“Fine,” She grumbles. “Order it and then I’ll talk.”

#ask game #waffleinator-inator #thank you for the trick or treat!! <3 <3 #i love giving sneak peeks for wips but i am now realizing a lot of them are sad:))))#so please enjoy this fem!jaydick that was basically inspired by the delicious fanart #i need to be bonked on the head like jaye in this lmao #i loved working on this (and drooling over the fanart) but i have no idea what to do with it lol #the doc is literally just called 'bunny outfit' fknsakgjnbg #jaydick #fem!jaydick

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sweetlikehoneystingslikeabee · 1 year

Note

If it’s not to much trouble, could I ask for some scenarios about how the dork squad (general or Arkham) would react to not seeing a particular Arkham employee (who they may have grown fond of / caught feelings for) suddenly not showing up to work for a good week or so? No explanation given and either the rest of the staff won’t answer about their whereabouts or they refuse to ask in the first place since such personal information could be used against them in therapy sessions. Maybe they would start to worry about the reader getting hurt during a security breach, fired, or even killed (there’s really no telling in Gotham)? Eventually the reader returns and explains that they were just sick.

I’ve been feeling a little under the weather (prob another sinus infection tbh) so this idea just stood out to me. Take your time since it’s three characters and if you want to tweak this to be less characters than I’m cool with that. I just had to share this idea and fell in love with your writing recently

"Sick Day" Riddler, Scarecrow and Mad Hatter

You're so sweet of course this isn't too much trouble! I hope by the time you read this, you're feeling a lot better, okay? I'm actually going to go with general for this one since I haven't really gotten to yet for these characters.

Tw: surveillance, fear toxin, isolation, sedation

Riddler

- Meets his favorite employee when he's in an isolation room for causing problems with the other patients (again). Between having his locks switched constantly because he figures them out and the amount of chaos he can cause in the general population, higher ups love putting him to far corners away from others when he's bad.

- His cell is bare. They won't even give him crayons after his newest little stunt. Not only is he isolated, he's BORED. A horrible combination of things.

- So when the nurse assigned to his check-ins and medicine actually chats with him, he's taking it for all it's worth.

- "Hello, Nurse! A riddle for you. What is it that given one, you’ll have either two or none?"

- The nurse pauses. Thinks on it. "A choice?"

- "Correct! That was an easy one-" "Uh-uh, medicine first. That's not a choice." He does the most pathetic sigh, "Fine! You drive a hard bargain."

- This continues even when he's (reluctantly) let back into general population and... shockingly, he's behaving. Lots of flirting, smug grins with thinly veiled threats of all the horrible things he could do to the city.

- When the nurse disappears and no one will tell him anything... he decides it's time for blackmail. It's amazing the things you learn when you hear bits and pieces of things and have the brain to put it all together. Not to mention the camera access he has when he's not in Arkham.

- A guard here, a guard there... he has markers, blueprints and a burner laptop stashed away in a cove on the island. He manages to hack a couple cameras on the mainland... that and he stole employee files and knows their address. The creep.

- He actually figures out they're sick as he watches. If he's feeling particularly cheeky or wanting them to be convinced of how clever he is, he'll have cold medicine sent to their door with a vague riddle.

- When they come back he'll play aloof. Oh? You were sick? Well. He wasn't worried, of course. It's not like he went through a bunch of information he was saving just to ensure you were okay.

- "Cold medicine with a riddle? You must have caught the eye of some other dashing Riddler in Gotham. Not as intelligent as I am, of course."

- The next time he escapes from Arkham, he'll make sure they get locked in a cell safely away from others/the distraction he's going to cause. Then the games can begin :)

Scarecrow

- He'd come to enjoy the almost daily tit-for-tat conversations with his favorite Arkham employee. A rather lowly psych orderly, they were stuck with the most demeaning or mundane of jobs in the facility.

- This also meant a lot of interaction with the patients. Feeding them, check ins, and the occasional distraction when nurses or guards needed to catch a patient.

- He met the orderly when they were put on observation duty as he was carted to his appointment in restraints and bite/spit protection mask. They looked so fresh.

- "They're sending the new technicians to look after me now?" Then, he notices their keys sticking out of their pocket, "I'd get a locking carabiner for those, if you must have them on you. So easy to steal."

- They thank him for the advice. While waiting for the doctor, he gives them more advice. He figures they're young, not a threat to him at all. Perhaps put in their head the many ways they could get hurt or die working here.

- Yet they just smile at him, "Thank you, Dr. Crane. I'll keep that in mind." Turns out, they know exactly who he is. A psychology student that has read his papers and seen recorded lectures. Morbid and macabre interests, themselves.

- He casually takes them under their wing, as long as they continue to be courteous and show interest. He finds he has less than mentor like feelings after a time, but he tries to ignore them.

- When they disappear and no one will tell him what's happened... he doesn't get scared, but he certainly gets cantankerous. What if something happened to his young protégé? Do none of you truly care about someone who works with you daily?

- Then he gets quiet. Too quiet. Too well behaved. He's not even as combative in therapy as he normally would be, trying to turn the tables on anyone picking at his brain.

- Staff suspects something is up, but not what. They do sweeps of his cell and areas of the island to see if there's any fear toxin to be found. Nothing.

- In truth, he's been creating it in small doses and hiding it in recreational areas in plain sight. He's planning on putting it into the air systems of the asylum when-

- Oh. You're back. He was worried something happened. Sick? Well. You better take care of yourself, how can he teach you anything or have decent conversation if you're not here? Do keep up.

- He still ends up using the fear toxin to escape the asylum weeks later, but not before creating an antidote. He'll watch his orderly panic for a time, observe their fears- by the time they wake up, they're outside the facility buildings of Arkham. Mysteriously cured of fear toxin effects.

- They are completely safe and covered in a blanket. Need to make sure they don't get sick again, after all.

Mad Hatter

- Surprisingly, his favorite employee is a psychologist at Arkham. Only so many psychiatrists to go around prescribing medication, leading to a team up between the two. For more frequent weekly meetings, it's a psychologist who may refer if more psychiatric meetings are needed more often than twice a week to once a month. Only few patients such as the Joker get psychiatrists for every session.

- This particular psychologist got him in for their first session... with Jervis sedated past any point of being able to answer questions. Got "well he wasn't cooperating, he wouldn't leave his tea set!" In response. Frustrating, to say the least.

- This resulted in psychologist strutting right up to the "hidden" somewhat private alcove where Jervis set himself up, shoo anyone else away and literally... sit down on the ground with Jervis and introduce themselves.

- This, along with being polite, immediately endeared them to Jervis. Asking what his current drawing is. Him saying "the path to Wonderland, my dear." Recognizing that it is in fact a complex diagram of brain synapses and the shortfall effects of certain chemicals and hypnosis.

- The thing about Jervis Tetch is he's unfortunately a brilliant neuroscientist. Knowledgeable in not only chemical effects, but how to use hypnotic suggestion to manipulate the consciousness. There's times it's difficult to tell where the clarity of Jervis Tetch ends and the delusions of the Mad Hatter begins.

- While there might be tense moments, Jervis ends up developing a rapport of mutual respect and fondness for his doctor. So much so he gets snippy when others try to approach hum.

- This results in a complete breakdown of communication when "his" doctor is out and no one will tell him where they are. He will insist, no, DEMAND where they are.

- this is just further indication to staff that he should not be told anything due to potentially establishing an unhealthy attachment which could result in disastrous consequences if fed into.

- Shoutings about the Red Queen and compulsive rhyming begin on day three or four. A combination of poor handling of the situation and him working himself up.

- "The Red Queen traps me in hell, awaits in the shadows of this padded cell! Haroo! You made them say farewell as I dwell upon how you made them unwell! Murder! Murder, says I! Murmurs within the walls the Jabberwocky has-" (This goes on for quite some time)

- Ultimately when the employee returns, they find Jervis has been isolated to his cell on high levels of sedation to control him. Out of his mind with glassy eyes murmuring to himself when he's awake.

- There will be outright sobbing when he realizes they're back. He wants to touch them so badly. To hold them, to be comforted! He's asking how they are and what they've been doing to get better.

- Once the sedation really wears off he's going to start planning...

- He needs to get his dearest companion out of here before the darkness swallows them both.

#dc scarecrow #riddler #dc riddler #dc mad hatter #foxwriting #batman hcs

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johnconstantinejld · 8 months

Text

Gotham Tales-Riddler

Riddle Me This…

Welcome to Italy, Batman. I could have chosen anywhere, of course, such as Spain or Austria, but there is a specific reason I came here.

Finally found me, eh? Of course, I expected nothing less, Batman. No, no, I deliberately went easy this time. Where would you a mass of riddles? Not at a comic convention, please. In Arkham they consider me petty and hold me in low esteem, but even those basement dwellers are lower than me.

No, I came here to Italy. I attended the Book Fair in Bologna (third largest in the world), to find about books on riddles. And I quite liked it.

You see, I didn’t want to leave a riddle for you. But I had to. You’re the only one equal to my intelligence.

Oh sure, they all say that IQ is nothing, and all Arkham sees me as petty, overconfident, harmless and hold me in low esteem. You know what Joker calls me? A gimmick! Me? Coming from a clown!

Of course, he’s the comedian, the clown and the comedian, so what do I know?

Tell me, how’s old Hatter? Would you mind giving him a decorated Complete Works of Carroll? It’s important he reads of all Alice, not just one chapter. I doubt he will, though. Cinque Terre…it’s funny, but I’m still getting used to the places here closing whenever they want. Like this place I go to get the whiting I’m eating before you. Giovanni suddenly apologised and said he was just closing but would only serve me. He wouldn’t open the rest of the day. A wedding, he explained, and he had to be up early, but it caught me by surprise. There’s a riddle.

Then they offered me a position, far better paying and more secure than the job at the office in Gotham, writing out riddles. Advanced and even more advanced, they said. Maybe I should dedicate the next book to you.

Now maybe I will be recognised.

Time is changing me. This is a place to take the impatience out of a man. I can sit here and read philosophy and ponder those great riddles. Look at that glass of white, Batman. It might be poison or rotten. Those are the greater questions that permeate our lives. It is those little risks that we have the dignity of taking. Those little questions.

Not even listening, is he, Ms Gordon?

Now here’s a riddle. What does Batman have to do with protecting Barbara Gordon whilst she holidays here? Richard not around? I am not at the level of referring to him as ‘Dick’. We are not that personal, please. Perhaps you have your own riddle, Ms Gordon? After all, whilst that Oracle figure can see everything that exists, I can see that is unseen and non-existent-and this, you will find, is far more powerful. It was a beautiful computer setup, but for once I had…clarity. And I looked back out.

Who did I see operating Oracle’s computers, hmm?

I’ll keep it to myself, so it pleases. One genius to another. A solved riddle is no fun. All I am is a gimmick. My connections in the upper echelons of society (I suavely entered it with far too much ease) have proven a little tiresome. ‘Where’ old Eddie?’ They’ll ask. ‘Look in Central City, Metropolis, Smallville.’ The media is asking the same thing. Well, let the ignoramuses wait. I tire of them.

I tire of it all.

I left you a riddle. I had to. Could have walked away, but I left you a riddle. I mean, I know the answers to your riddles, but what’s the point if the answer is something everyone knows? I don’t want anything else to do with what is happening. All I did was rob and leave a clue. What did Scarecrow do? Scare people and get rich on the betting. Now everyone gets off killing. Even Hatter damn well kills! Did the world leave me behind? Did the writers go mad? What’s wrong with morals about criminals being brought to justice and just criminals because they’re evil. No Freudian excuses, no redeeming factors, just wrong. Is the world too twisted for that? The idea is you turn up, do your crime of the week and get put away. Scarecrow comes up, frightens the guards into giving away the precious gem, and he unveils where he was. Perhaps he was hanging in the museum the whole time, disguised as a creepy doll? Ooh, write that down. But then, you are trauma and tragedy, so it doesn’t stop you, does it?

Please, a copy of my latest and greatest book of riddles, fresh from acclaim at the Bologna International Book Fair. Do not worry, Miss Gordon, I am not the suicidal type, despite sitting on the great riddle answer all this time: What’s under the cowl?

I just feel alone. Even when I was a private detective, I felt alone. Now what do I do other than sail, puzzle over inscriptions, help archaeologists, make new books. Imagine the great riddle. Poison in a sealed and corked bottle of wine. The customer bought it himself. There were no incidents of poisonings, no ransoms, no motives at the store and the vineyard had no reason to sabotage their crop. Why would Giovanni poison a regular customer?

Come, I know a know a great gelato place here.

There’s lots of reasons to live here. Actually, I’m on holiday. Despite my record, I live further along the coast. I take my risks here: The plate of goulash I have in Vienna might be tough or rotten and the beer warm. Those are risks.

But how much is a good quiet life worth? That’s a riddle for you.

Salute. Ciao.

#dc riddler #dc comics #the riddler #edward nygma

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coffeexmythos · 2 years

Text

Okay so, Mythos cartoon au

(It's not actually a cartoon, it's just inspired by ones from the 90s.)

In Arkham, a young man* named Wes is adjusting to life outside of his native Alabama. He's got a job as a security guard in a local museum, and studies at Miskatonic U on a scholarship. While people like him, he's still troubled by the conflict that led him to flee his hometown. His family hasn't even tried to talk to him since he left. Tough stuff.

Things take a turn one night. While moving items around, Wes accidentally breaks an antique necklace that was hidden in a storage room. This does more than possibly get him into trouble, however - it releases the spirit of Randolph Carter. Carter isn't exactly forward with the events that led him to being locked in the necklace, but the truth slowly comes out...

After being freed from the alien body he foolishly trapped himself in, Carter formed an alliance with the Outer God Nyarlathotep. The two worked together for hundreds of years, maybe even longer, with Carter losing more and more of what was left of his humanity. In the end, Carter betrayed the Crawling Chaos, and Nyarlathotep retaliated by sealing him into the necklace, casting it back to Earth thousands of years in the past.

And unfortunately for the new duo, now that Carter is free again, Nyarlathotep is coming after him...

The plot involves Carter and Wes jumping between space and time, using Arkham as a base, avoiding Nyarlathotep's various forms and other horrors beyond imagination, while Carter trains Wes as a occultist. Various nightmarish situations are encountered, friends and enemies are made, and at least one cat is adopted. A reoccurring character is Mr. Crimson**, a modern day occultist and black metalhead, who is sometimes ally, sometimes enemy, and always a badass. (Wes has a hopeless crush on him.)

Other characters that appear are Yog-sothoth, the Sleepwalker (don't wake her up!), Hastur, the Whateley twins, the whole of Innsmouth, and of course, everyone's favorite sleeping squid face

So yeah that's what I've cooked up. I'm not sure why I've cooked it up, but I have. I'm very tempted to write for this now ngl...

*he's trans but I'm not sure how much that comes up

**he is also trans

#cthulhu mythos #lovecraft mythos #lovecraftian #lovecraft mythos oc #nyarlathotep #randolph carter #yog sothoth #cosmic horror #azathoth

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unfilteredaj · 2 years

Text

A session with Dr.Crane:

———

Synopsis: Just a little slice of life/slight x reader piece for my newest Blorbo, Scarecrow.

Warnings: mention of blood, drug use and un-consensual drugging, fear mongering, the usual for Scarecrow…

…..

It was a rainy, sleepy sort of day in Arkham Asylum, and that was how Doctor Jonathan Crane liked it. While it wasn’t unusual for Gotham to sleep under a blanket of overcast, days like these were truly ideal. Rain beat down on the windows, and the first rumblings of thunder were sure to be close behind. And to make a good day even better, Jonathan had no scheduled appointments, no prior obligations, just a hospital full of frightened patients and an itch to toy with someone.

He made some small talk with a pair of guards, and slipped them some cash for a favor.

“I need you to bring me someone non-violent. Maybe from the women’s low security wing, it doesn’t really matter. Make sure they’re in my office in ten minutes. Alone. And occupy yourselves with something else for a while. I know how fond you guards are of the clown down in solitary….” He said knowingly. “Just be back in fifteen minutes.”

One of the guards gave him a look that reminded him of an obedient yet stupid dog, and they went off to carry out their orders.

Dr. Crane, however, headed back to his office. He needed to prepare for his patient. He made himself comfortable as he waited, discarding his jacket on the small rack by the door and rolling up his sleeves. He took a small glass vile and a larger aerosol can from his desk.

If someone had seen him snort the white powdery substance in the vile, they might have thought he was on coke, or some other street drug. But his concoction was more sophisticated than that. Ever since his first taste of his own fear toxin, he’d been chasing a more sustainable, more grounded high. Something more subtle, that he could work through. He’d finally created something decent, and today was the perfect day for it. He wiped his nose on a tissue, small droplets of blood reminding him that his concoction wasn’t quite perfect yet. But he didn’t care. It was unnoticeable to anyone else, and the rush of adrenaline and colors dancing in his vision were worth it. A sharp knock on the door tore him from his thoughts.

“Come in.”

One of the guards opened the door, practically shoving the girl inside. The one they’d picked was small, and tragically pretty. She looked almost dazed. Crane mentally praised whatever doctor had gotten to her before he had. She was, for lack of a better term, already mildly sedated. Easy to work with.

“Welcome, have a seat. I’m Dr. Crane. I’m the head of psychiatry here at Arkham.” He explained calmly.

The girl shook his hand, sitting across from him.

“You’re not my doctor. Dr. Quinzel is. We didn’t have an appointment today…” she said trailing off.

“I know. And I’m so sorry for the inconvenience… I know it must be stressful meeting with a new doctor so unexpectedly.” He reassured her. “But Dr. Quinzel will be back Monday. For today, I’m your doctor.”

His voice was like honey luring the girl into a swarm of bees. It was almost too easy.

“Ok….”

The girl looked at him dumbly. The medications she was on were definitely keeping her high has a hatter. But she would liven up soon.

“We’re going to try a new type of therapy today, Ok?” Dr. Crane’s voice was calm and steady, but he felt like live wires were sparking behind his eyes. He pulled his mask and the aerosol can from his desk drawer.

“Don’t worry…” he said, pulling his mask over his face, “This is going to be fun.”

…..

The paient coughed and sputtered, trying to clear her lungs of the chemicals, but it didn’t help. Her heart started racing in her chest as her vision cleared. Where the once seemingly kind and handsome doctor had been a minute before, a monster stood. It could only be described as a Scarecrow from hell.

Eyes wide and glazed over, she tried to bolt, but The Scarecrow was faster. A strong hand wrapped around her wrist like a vice, peeling her away from the door.

“Leaving so soon?” He tutted, “but we haven’t even started.”

“P-Please…Please just go away. I hate this..I hate seeing things… I thought I was getting better… please….”

The girl’s babbling was frantic, but just a whisper as she covered her ears with her hands. Unbeknownst to The Scarecrow, she was also being assailed by thunder, the sound seemingly amplified 100 times over by the toxin. She sank to the floor a whimpering mess, and Jonathan followed her on bended knee. She looked Pathetic, and she was heart achingly beautiful. He could have stayed there watching her cower for hours… but he would not be so cruel today. He liked her. He wanted more of her.

He snatched the mask from his face, discarding it on the floor beside them.

“Hey.” He said calmly, a hand coming to tilt her chin up to meet his eyes. “You’re hallucinating. We need to change your medications. We’ll get you back to your cell and I’ll see you for another session next week, alright? I’ll notify Dr. Quinzel that we’ll be sharing you as a patient from here on out.”

He left her there on the floor for a moment, opening the door and motioning for the two guards to take her away.

He could hear her confused babbling still as she was being taken away.

“Scarecrow…Scarecrow…Scarecrow…”

#johnathan crane #scarecrow batman

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gilbirda · 1 year

Text

I posted 16,670 times in 2022

That's 6,991 more posts than 2021!

372 posts created (2%)

16,298 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@mekakido

@deathcomes4u

@high-pot-in-noose

@hopefulbandittrashsoul

@sometimes-me

I tagged 2,530 of my posts in 2022

#danny phantom - 192 posts

#gil answers - 162 posts

#dp x dc - 144 posts

#dpxdc - 122 posts

#anger management ship - 102 posts

#batman dc - 90 posts

#jazz/jason - 78 posts

#jazz x jason - 71 posts

#jason todd - 69 posts

#dc x dp - 69 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#add spain and that time we had 4 presidents in 4 month and some guy had to storm the congress riding a horse and declare some random dude k

I sent 1 gift in 2022

My Top Posts in 2022:

(in a read more bcs is long)

Good Cop! Jason and Bad Cop! Jazz would be super hilarious 😂 Imagine Red Hood just pointing a gun at a criminal and being like, "Look, either you face my bullet or you talk your feelings out, what'll it be?"

And the criminal just scoffs, "How about we talk about my feelings?"

"Alright."

And then, this sweet young lady walks in, with a sweet smile, and says, "Now let's talk about your mommy issues."

"I'd rather face the bullet, ma'am."

AKWJDJCJFJDJJSJDJDJFJ

LMAO THIS WOULD BE THE FUNNIEST THING.

Honestly, power couple. One can make you cry and scream and regret everything.... and the other can do that as well but with a sweet smile and kind words.

Weaponized psychology.

But not like Spectra - nah, she's not into misery or causing problems. She just knows that some people would prefer death before facing their own issues.

I love this so much.

"I'd rather face the bullet, ma'am."

This will live rent free in my head.

794 notes - Posted August 7, 2022

Mondays, am I right?

Or Danny is an Arkham Security Guard, from this post

Forgot to link some AMAZING art for this idea. Inspired the 'sneakers' part.

SOME FANART FOR MY FIC

[Read on AO3][Read on FF.net]

Sequel - Employee of the month >>

The first thing Danny said when Jazz expressed her interest in interning at Arkham was:

“Are you out of your goddamn mind?”

To which she answered:

“It is said that you have to be a bit crazy to work in Arkham, soooo…”

Danny had to agree that her response was quick and true, but still he didn’t like her going to that madhouse and probably die because, I dunno, Joker woke up wrong or she tried to psychoanalyze the Riddler. He said this to her through the phone, hoping that she could imagine him pacing up and down the apartment.

“The security there is top notch, Danny, and the bat-fam is always one call away.”

“You know as well as I do that’s bullshit. The guards are human, some of those crazies are not.”

“That term is very harmful, Daniel,” she used her mom voice.

“Sorry. But you see what I mean, right? If anything happens I won’t be there to save you. Not in time, at least.” He could try and measure how long it would take to fly from his apartment to Arkham, just in case.

There was a long silence. He heard his sister breathe in, breathe out, like she was mentally preparing herself to say something.

“I… I heard, from other interns I talked to, that guard positions are always open. And that it’s super easy to get in.”

“Jazz. Are you-”

“Don’t. I know you. Don’t think I’ll ever forget the ‘visits’ when I started college.”

Danny looked down and stopped pacing. Maybe he was a bit overprotective of his sister. Maybe he freaked out for weeks after she moved to her dorm, complaining about how long it took him to fly there.

He regretted nothing.

“Gotham is too far from Amity. I prefer cutting the chase and having you with me in Arkham than dealing with a helicopter little brother on the reg.”

He swallowed the knot in his throat. “Is this your sisterly way of telling me that I should get a job?”

“I gave up after you were fired from the Nasty Burger. Nasty Burger, Danny! Not even Val was fired, and she had another job and the Red Huntress business!”

“I know…”

Jazz sighed. “I’m going to nap a bit and then finish packing things up here. I’ll text you the site where you can apply for the guard job.”

“Thanks, Jazzy.”

“Don’t call me that. Love you.”

“Love you.”

***

See the full post

813 notes - Posted February 1, 2022

Time for some BatPham and DPxDC fic recs

I got a comment asking for some recs and I thought it'll be easier to have a masterlist or something in my tumblr and link that

SOOOOO I asked the BatPham server for recs and I'll just slap them here and add some that come to my mind in no particular order because it's 4:20 am (blaze it)(not really, kids, dont smoke) and ill comment some ive read personally

cheers!!!!

Now with Part 2!

Just the Typical Weirdness by Pandemi

The Phantom and the Knight by savya398

The Auction by Lalenja (young justice crossover)

30 Days of Kidnappings by Hyperintrovert

Types of Family by NerdofSpades

Unearthed, Reborn by QueenOfTheQuill

Pearls and Pomegranates by Evandarya (BrainDead (TimxDanny) inspired in Hades&Persephone)

The Fantabulous Emancipation of Danny Fenton by HistoricallyInnacurate

It Matters to Have this Ghost Clan Near (This Family I Never Knew) by SagaDuWyrm

The Captain and the King by Sivan5733 (A series featuring Captain Marvel AND John Constantine)

Change in Management by voidwriting (Love me some Sentient Gotham, I actually have to catch up with this gem of a fic) - with fanart!

Beauty lays behind the hills by Library_of_Cronos

moon's haunted by heybabybird (funny)

Speed Dial by apotheosis_avaritia (funny but short :( I want more)

Concession to Realism by wildimaginingsofhalfbakedideas (danny yeeted to WFA universe. Very cute)

Ghosts Don't go to High School by Evandarya (BrainDead cuteness tbh i love this one)

close enough to be whole again by hailsatanacab (twins Danny and Damian. ANGST. Good shit right here)

Green skies by siren_of_the_ocean

It's Hard to Make Friends When You're Half in the Grave by SagaDuWyrm

Leap Before You Think by TourettesDog

overbearing obsession by Ocearna (good shit right here, Ocearna's writing..... good)

Shrodinger’s Bat by Michaelisunderrated (angst! I have to catch up but it's really good as far as I read!!!)

Afterimage by TorScrawls (THE DESCRIPTIONS HERE! ELDRITCH DANNO..... GOOD)

Robin's Egg by Calix (really good!!!!! Damian is so serious and dangerous and will protect Danny like the "I only had X for a day but I would kill..." meme)

Raising Phantom by Imp_y (good shit!!!! de-aged Danny! Some Anger Management (JazzxJason) hints, batfam dynamics!!!)

See the full post

828 notes - Posted September 18, 2022

Jason headcanon for y'alls consideration:

Jason needs glasses to read.

The boy must have read books in conditions that aren't optimal for reading. Since he was a kid.

Sure, the Pit could heal it all, but he was back it with his old habits after coming back to life, like hiding in dark corners to read. Places where no one would find him and he wouldn't be interrupted.

Sure, he could bring a lamp, but he was perfectly fine reading with whatever little light he got, why bother?

Fast forward some years, he notices that words get blurry and he has to squint more and more.

Roy mocks him. He looks like an old lady. Like a dad reading the newspaper.

He gets sent memes about old people facing small screens and modern technology

(Yes I'm pushing the Old Man Jason agenda as well, as seen in PandaRedd's skits.)

The thing is

He needs glasses to read.

Artists of Tumblr, please, I beg you. Jason with glasses.

1,372 notes - Posted October 20, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

An DC × DP AU wherein the whole of the Batclan is out of Gotham leaving Alfred with an empty mansion while the worst blizzard in decades in smothering out all crime in Gotham and Victor Fries is on a sort of parole with the League to conduct investigations on a Sub-Zero planet at the behest of the locals.

All is quiet until a silent alarm goes off and informs Alfred that one of the patio doors had been opened from the outside despite being locked, Alfred makes his way to the camera room to gaze upon the possible thief if not thieves. Instead he is greeted by a group of six poorly clad teens with two of them showing early signs of frostbite while another looks as if they are on the verge of going into hypothermia. Alfred realizes that the break in was to find shelter rather than ill intent, furthermore after listening in on the teens he is able to detect an Illinois accent among the group and mentions of a "Guys in White" as well as hearing the young woman who could be a twin of a younger Miss Gordon mentioning "waiting out the blizzard and finding Batman".

Rather than waiting or doing what anyone else in his position would do by calling upon Gotham's Finest to removing the group, Alfred maeldebhisvway to the kitchen to whip up a batch of his beloved Hot Cocoa and made his way to the teens unconcerned for his safety as none of the six seemed particularly dangerous especially the three who appeared to be in the most dire of conditions.

An AU in which Six Teens (Danny, Jazz, Sam, Tucker, Valerie, and Dani) from Amity Park are on the run from the Ghost Investigation Ward and they break into Wayne Manor in search of Safety. An Alfred centric idea as the Batclan are all elsewhere and the blizzard making moving about Gotham nearly impossible, with the GIW in search of the Six.

You know what? We need more Alfred-centric fics. Alfred is the best and is the original adopter of the Wayne clan.

I mean he looked at the wet pathetic cat that was Bruce and said "this one, this is my son now".

I can imagine he notices that the kids aren't normal kids... skittish, won't let him touch them, one looks pale but swears he isn't injured, Barbara's doppelgänger is the mom of the group despite not being much older...

He sends a text to Bruce and the others, but messages are not going through with the blizzard. He considers using the Watchtower to pass on the message, but it's not an emergency, is just a hunch.

He makes the decision, then. A secret for a secret - he works for Batman and will ask him the favor to help.

They don't buy it until Alfred proves it, somehow. And then-

Then the kids start talking. Alfred can see that they don't want to reveal a lot, that they don't want to worry him or speak too much without Batman here or are used to not speaking at all.

"Batman has the no kill rule," Alfred says after he got a clearer picture of their situation, "but I don't."

I'd love to read this. Right now I don't have the spoons, so if anybody can and want to, this is up for adoption!!!

(ha!)

1,622 notes - Posted August 8, 2022

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naquey · 5 months

Text

Eddie Baby

Inspired by a song but it's not actually a song fic. You can listen to the song while reading, or don't. It doesn't really affect anything.

Dear old Eds pays a visit to the woman who's loved him for so long, whom was thrown in Arkham to rot away for eternity. And maybe he breaks her out.

t/w: guns, gun violence, blood, mentions of death

(divider: cafekitsune)

The Riddler wasn't a sentimental man.

At least, he never wanted Penguin to know that. Oswald had a penchant for taking the things closest to him and kidnapping them, or killing them. So, he kept a little secret from his feathered friend. Wearing a nice plaid jacket, and some khakis instead of his green velvet suit he adjusted his tie. The fake I.D. tucked into his old wallet, the one he carried around back when he was a civilian and worked for the GCPD.

The security at Arkham always made him nervous, but the staff here seemed to have already forgotten his face. He remembered the last time he had stayed at the asylum, it made him twitch and squirm as he walked the halls side by side with a guard. Ed couldn't forget what he had to go through, what he had seen.

He could only imagine it had gotten worse.

Jim Gordon was the new commissioner, there was no doubt in his mind it most certainly had gotten worse. That Professor Strange didn't work here anymore, but he still felt his skin crawl. He was older and his face had changed a lot since then, wrinkles and sun damage, and all the things in similarity. Even a few grey hairs strewn in with black strands.

His heart skipped a beat when he saw that familiar red tone. She was sitting behind glass, chin in one hand, tapping her nails idly on the counter. Her eyes lit up seeing Ed in the doorway and a grin stretched across her face.

"You're here!"

She sprung up from her seat and put her hands to the glass, pressing her face as close as possible. Ed wanted to be closer than the glass allowed him.

"You asked me here, I couldn't keep you waiting."

"That was years ago." Her smile faltered.

"I know, I know. I'm later than expected, but, how about a riddle to make up for it?"

"A riddle?!

Her grin settled back onto her face and she clapped her hands together. Pressing herself up against the glass she giggled, no, laughed like a hyena. Ed hadn't heard such a cute sound in a long time.

"What stares with a stone face, listens without answering, and hovers by like a vulture?"

A grin of his own crawled across his face.

Realization crossed her features and he saw her gaze shift from him to what was behind him. The guard was standing in front of the doorway. Listening in to their conversation.

"Rose?"

"Guard!" She called.

He stepped away as the police officer stepped up to the glass. She started asking him for things and Ed noticed the camera up in the corner. Rolling his eyes he looked over at her, shaking his head.

Then the red light on the camera went out.

Okay, maybe he did ask for at least some help from Penguin's henchmen. Penguin would hear of this later, but it wouldn't matter then. Ed had grabbed the handcuffs and had cuffed the guard then held chloroform to his mouth and nose. His body had slumped like a ragdoll after a moment and Ed let him hit the floor.

"Correct, you still have your wits."

"Oh, come on, just let me out already."

"Darling, I need you to be quiet."

He bent down and took the keyring from the officer's belt. There were only a few keys so he didn't have too many too look through, it really is a security problem if they only ever have a few. There was a door separating the visitors and the asylum patients, he crouched by the lock and tried each key, the third one fit.

Rose squealed and ran into Ed, hugging her arms around his neck. She nearly sent him off balance with the force of her hug but he was quick to catch himself before he fell over.

"I can't believe you did it! You actually did it!"

"Not without some help from a couple of bird brains." Ed brushed some of her hair out of her face. "When we get home, I have a plan I'd like to propose to you."

"Oh! Backup, such a nice ring to it."

"Shall we go before they find out the cameras were cut or do you need your things?"

"You know I have nothing here, let's go!"

He grabbed the officer's gun, taking her hand in his free hand. Breaking out of Arkham thanks to the Penguin was such a rush, but breaking out someone he loves was even more thrilling. They ran down the hallway, Rose laughing with glee.

"Hey! Stop!" An officer called when she'd seen them.

"Wait, wait. No! Don't shoot!"

"You wouldn't be free of this place if a few people's lives weren't lost, my love." His voice was so soft and kind, something she had missed so much. She nodded slowly.

Looking away when he shot at the officer, when the blood spattered and pooled on the floor beneath the body. She hid her face in his arm. More cops had closed in on their location and they ran again. The exit was so close, he could just feel it. Ed was so sure that this would finally work.

Then something exploded.

Rose scrunched up her hair in the towel Oswald was so generous to give her. Fresh from her shower she felt clean and happy. Ed was sitting in a big arm chair, eyes glued to the television. The news was talking about her asylum escape. A shiver ran down her spine as the names and pictures of officer's showed up on the screen. She wasn't the one who killed people, but seeing so many die bothered her. She was free, but it was like something was weighing on her soul.

She was older now, left alone with her mind for so long. The floor boards creaked under her barefoot and Ed turned around, startled. Switching off the television he stood up and turned to her in one swift motion.

"As breathtaking as the first moment I saw you."

"Eddie..." Her hands were trembling, the towel was shaking.

"Hey, hey, hey. What's wrong?" He pulled her in a hug, her head tucked under his chin.

"You didn't have to kill them..." Her voice was small.

"They would have caught us."

"I know that, but they were people."

"Everyone I ever killed before them was a person, it doesn't matter though! You're here!" She stepped back and he cupped her face in his hands. "You're safe."

He was so gentle and kind. The doctors at Arkham had told her over and over that Riddler was a cruel, vile man who would do horrible things to her. They didn't believe that she was in love with the man who was Riddler. It was seen as a delusion, which was why she was admitted. She couldn't help it when he heart melted. It had been so long. Arkham had been so horrible.

She was startled when Ed wiped away her tears. Pulled in for another hug she finally let go and began to cry, her shoulders shaking and her body crumbling into him. He petted her hair and pressed kisses to her head, slowly swaying the both of them as she sobbed into his arms.

For now, he wouldn't tell her what he had been waiting to propose, but eventually he would tell her.

#batman #dc comics #gotham #gotham rogues #batman rogues #rogues gallery #the riddler #ed nygma #edward nygma #dc the riddler #dc ed nygma #x oc #the riddler x oc #ed nygma x oc #rose corvid #arkham asylum

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theunquenchablethirst · 3 years

Text

Hooked (Jerome X Reader)

Ok, so this is a thing. I was kinda surprised nobody had used this scene yet, because the Gotham fandom seem to collectively agree that Jerome is BIG KINKY and yet the one scene where he canonically has people cuffed up and hung from the ceiling... nobody has touched??? Y'all have been sleeping on that scene! It's fanfic gold! Anyway, enjoy the hedonism. Much love xxx

Warning: SMUT, 18+, GRAPHIC SEXUAL CONTENT, BDSM, bondage, cuffs, dom/sub, vaginal fingering, oral sex, biting, spanking, slapping, pussy slapping, light choking, spitting, belt whipping, praise/degradation, marking, mention of scratching, Jerome is big meanie pants mean man

The new mayor of Gotham is having a meeting with his council members, but things take a turn when the Legion of Horribles show up to kidnap them and reader. When the victims are being unloaded from the truck, Jerome Valeska notices reader, because she isn't exactly on the guest list.

Tag list of lovelies: @gabile18 @valeskaduh @fangirl--writes @persephoneblck

Masterlist

I had been working as a housekeeper for the new mayor. It was a good job, but I wasn't appreciated. I was just there to clean and serve when needed. I don't think he even knew my name. I was just hired help to him. To all of them.

He was hosting a dinner for his council that day. I had been placed in the corner of the room with a bottle of expensive wine where I was to wait until wanted. He gestured for me to come forwards and fill their glasses while they started talking about their displeasure with the rising foul play in the city, like it was anything new for Gotham. The chairwoman wanted to know what he was going to do about it. Very little in my opinion. He was just coasting. In too deep over his head. He had been appointed far too fast and everyone knew it. He wasn't going to last.

He made an attempt to save face and talk about how he too was disturbed by the recent goings on and was doing everything he could. Trash, utter trash. As he rose from his seat, the lights fizzled out. I stopped pouring. Had this been any other city I would have assumed it was a simple power outage, but nothing was that simple in Gotham. The security guard closed us in and went to see what was happening. The air turned icy. No, this was not good. Gunshots and screams came from the hallway and everyone rose from the table terrified. We quickly started walking towards a door hoping to make an escape, but there was something about the windows. They were freezing over.

The doors burst open and I dropped the wine. It smashed into pieces as a blueish man in some kind of robotic suit and a weird looking, but huge gun stepped into the room. Was that Victor Fries? Then through the second set of doors another man in a top hat who I recognised as Jervis Tetch burst in with some other strange looking friends.

Before I could comprehend the situation, we were all being cuffed and taken outside. Our kidnappers pushed and pulled us towards a huge truck, all the while the mayor tried to buy his way free. He was showing just how little he really knew about the underbelly of Gotham. I knew just by looking at them that they were probably Arkham escapees and couldn't be bought like a sane man could. They had their own plans and you can't bargain with crazies.

We got to the truck and they opened the back door. My blood ran cold when I saw that standing there waiting for us was Jerome Valeska. Of all the criminals Gotham had seen he had been the only one that had scared me, truly and thoroughly. He didn't have any kind of reason for what he did. He just enjoyed death and chaos. And after his last escapade he looked like madness personified, his scars circling his face and eyes and giving him a permanent evil smile. Dread consumed me as I realized that he was no doubt the leader of this operation and if that was true, we were already dead.

I felt myself jolted forwards. The mayor had pushed me in front of the rest of the council to get whatever was coming first. If I wasn't cuffed, I would have turned around and broke his nose. I was lifted into the truck, my hands were pulled above my head and fixed to two hooks. I had to stand on my toes to keep standing which made it awkward and difficult as they pushed me to the back of the truck.

Was that Penguin? What was he doing here? He didn't belong here. I had gone to Penguin looking for a job in his club when I was 16. He was impressed with my audition, but when he asked my age, he rejected me.

"This establishment is not a playground for children. It's a nightclub." He had told me. At the time I had been steaming mad, but in hindsight he was probably right. Even if he was rude. So, after that, I found it hard to understand why he was here and working with Valeska. Maybe he had been kidnapped too?

The rest of the council were loaded on and hooked. The mayor was still trying to offer them money and pardons. When he saw it wasn't working, he resorted to empty, unintimidating threats. Jerome was completely unfazed and even a little disappointed in the lack of smiles.

"Nobody knows how to have fun anymore, right?" He said putting his arm around Penguin. So, he was a part of this.

Jerome pointed to a scary looking figure dressed like a scarecrow. Johnathan Crane? Crane released some kind of purple gas in the face of a member of a council. She started laughing and convulsing violently.

"What have you got to lose? Except your sanity?" Jerome joined in the crazy laughter. So, this was his plan. He'd figured out a way to forcefully drive everyone insane. With a gas.

I silently prayed to God in my mind for any kind of help.

After sufficiently terrifying us half to death, they left us in the back of truck. None of us could say anything and after a few minutes the truck started moving.

"Is she ok?" I asked looking towards the victim of the insanity gas.

"Who cares?! We have to figure out what they want and get out of here." Replied the mayor.

"Maybe they want publicity for whatever that gas is. Offer them some TV time." Guessed the chairwoman.

"Don't you get it?! This isn't a situation you can buy your way out of!" I snapped, frustrated with their idiocy.

"These aren't normal criminals. They don't want your money. They want chaos and madness." They stood there silently stunned. They had never heard me speak with such confidence, but in that moment, they knew I was right.

After what felt like hours the truck finally stopped.

"What's going on?" The mayor whispered.

Everything was quiet. We listened for any noise or sign of life. All we could hear was our own breath.

Then suddenly the doors flung open once again and in hopped Valeska, Tetch and Crane.

"We're here!" Jerome grinned.

The other two started to pull the council one by one off the hooks and walk them out of the truck, closely watched by Jerome. Until they got to me.

"Wait..." He stuck an arm out to stop Tetch from unhooking me.

"Who's she? She wasn't on the party list." He took a few steps closer to me.

"This poor young girl is an unlucky maid. Wrong place, wrong time. Very bad day." Jervis explained looking at me.

"Would you like me to... dispose of her?" Asked Crane, stalking close to me and lifting needle covered fingers to my throat.

"Not so fast, Mr Potato Head." Jerome said pulling him away from me.

He came so close that we were only inches apart. He looked down at me as if he was thinking for a few seconds then smirked and turned around to the others.

"Guys, go and see that our guests are comfortable, will ya? Get everything ready." He ushered them out of the truck. Fear travelled up and down my body. This had all been a bad situation, but being alone with Valeska scared the hell out of me.

"You're lucky I have a soft spot for pretty little girls." He closed the truck doors and turned to look at me.

"Freddy Krueger there... not so much." He relaxed, leaning back against the doors with his hands in his pockets. "You got a name?"

I stayed silent, more out of fear than defiance. He sucked his teeth and stood up straight.

"I get it. You're scared. Who wouldn't be, right?" He started slowly walking closer. "But things will go a lot smoother if you just play nice."

I still couldn't find any words.

"Aw, come on, doll! I'm getting awful lonely over here." He brought his hands up out of his pockets and leaned against a wall of the truck.

He was quiet for a few seconds and I noticed that his eyes were making their way up my legs. Being held up by my wrists on my tip toes had pulled my uniform skirt up and almost all of my thighs were exposed. I blurted out my name in an attempt to distract him from my bare legs. He smiled.

"What a pretty name. Now, was that so hard?" He pushed himself off the wall and came a little closer.

"So, you're the mayor's dust bunny, huh? I gotta say, doll, I can see why he keeps you around." He chuckled, eyeing me.

My whole body flushed and my face turned hot and red.

“But, uh, the thing about mayors in this town, they don’t last very long.”

"Please let me go." I whimpered.

"Oh, but we're having such a good time! Plus, if I did that, you'd scamper off to the GCPD and I can't have good ol' Gordon crashing the party early."

I scoffed at his suggestion. Not likely. I had a distinct distaste for the GCPD. They hadn't helped me when I needed them. I would never need them again.

"What's the matter? He book ya before or something?" Jerome smiled with intrigue.

"My parents... they... did things to us. When I ended up in the hospital one too many times..." Tears stung my eyes as I remembered. "They left me there and disappeared with my little brother. No one ever managed to track them down."

I didn’t fully understand why I was opening up to Jerome, but for a second, I saw a spark of humanity in his eyes. Like he understood my pain. I'd heard his first kill had been his mother, so maybe he did?

"I'd give anything to see him again." I sniffed and a tear rolled down my cheek.

"Yeah, I had shitty parents too." He sighed. "I killed them both."

I had thought about what I would do if I ever saw my parents again. What I would say, what I would ask. I could never think of the right words. But the thought of killing them, well that made me smile.

"What was it like?" I asked.

Jerome grinned from ear to ear and stepped closer so that we were toe to toe.

“Have you ever stood at the edge of a really tall building? You know that little voice in the back of your head that says ‘Jump! You can fly!’ even though every other part of you is screaming ‘No you can’t! You’re gonna kill us!’”

I nodded shakily.

“It’s like finally giving in to that voice. Like jumping off Gotham Bridge and finding out you can fly. And realising you never have to walk again.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and my heart felt like it was going a million beats per minute. His eyes were locked on mine and it felt like he was looking straight into my soul.

“You wanna fly, doll?” He brought his hand up to cup my jaw and ran his thumb along my bottom lip.

It wasn’t humanity I saw in Jerome Valeskas eyes. It was freedom. A freedom that I had wanted for as long as I could remember. And I could have it right now. He was offering it to me. The only thing standing in my way was myself.

“Yes.” I breathed. “Yes, I do.”

The next thing I knew, his lips were crashing into mine and he had hooked his hands under my thighs and was holding them around his waist. His kiss was desperate and hungry, like he had been starved for days and his grip on the bare flesh of my thighs was rough enough to leave bruises. I locked my ankles together behind him to steady myself from swaying underneath the cuffs. When I did, he drove his crotch forwards, grinding into my centre, a quiet moan escaping me as I felt him.

He slowly trailed a hand from my thigh, up my back and to the nape of my neck, before balling my hair in his fist. I gasped as I felt the sudden, sharp tug of him pulling my head back.

His eyes wandered down to settle on my exposed throat, before yanking my head to the side and nestling in the crook of my neck. He must’ve left a hundred open mouth kisses, but as he started to suck, I felt his teeth sink into my skin. I pulled back with a hiss at the sting, but he wouldn’t let go. He just kept on leaving harsh, red bitemarks and pulling my hair, all the time grinding harder into me.

He licked over the bruises he’d left and gently kissed them, before trailing his tongue up my neck to nip at my ear. He smiled darkly and pulled back away from me, dropping my legs back to the floor. He stalked around me, eyeing me up and down like a predator. I felt him behind me, his hands softly holding onto my waist, pulling me close to his chest.

“You know what’s great about this?” He cooed. “You’re already pre-cuffed.”

I flushed and my core swelled hot, his breath so close to me made my skin tingle all over. He pulled at the top of my skirt and dragged it down my hips, letting it fall down around my feet. He caressed my thighs and then stepped back, tugging at my underwear, playfully letting the elastic snap back to me.

“Y’know...” He said, before the familiar sound of a belt unbuckling. “Marquis de Sade said ‘sex without pain is like food without taste’...”

My eyes widened at his words and my heartbeat quickened.

“So, let’s make this... delicious.”

A million thoughts raced through my mind, but before I could process any, I felt the sharp snap of leather against my ass. I jolted forwards and let out a high pitch yelp.

Even though I couldn’t see him, I could tell he was smirking. I could hear it in his voice. I bit my lip in an attempt to brace myself and he landed the belt across me again.

“Please, Jerome...” I whimpered at the sting, closing my eyes.

He brought it down again, making me arch my back in a gasp. A couple of tears rolled down my cheeks and I realised there was little point in resisting the torment. So, I gritted my teeth and prepared for another lick of the belt.

He whipped me once more, harder this time and a small scream escaped me.

“Please!” I begged.

I heard him chuckle with dark delight. The bastard was enjoying this. Of course he was. What else had I expected from someone like him? I tightened all my muscles for the next sting...

But it didn’t come. Instead, I felt him pulling my underwear down. Relief washed over me when I heard the belt drop to the floor and I realised Jerome was finished and was now crouched, ready to inspect his work. He ran his fingers over my burning flesh, taking in the bright red lashes he had left on me.

“What a pretty picture?” He said, landing a spank. “I wish you could see too doll, but having you cuffed is half the fun.”

His voice was dripping with venom and arousal and I could practically feel his grin in the air. He traced the marks with his fingers a little longer, before grabbing my flesh in fistfuls and sinking his teeth in. I gasped loudly at the hard bite. I wasn’t sure how many more of Jerome's surprises I could take. He laughed and ran his tongue over the new bruise.

“Yep. Definitely a pretty picture.” He smiled, giving me another spank. “I like those little noises you make, doll. Why don’t you make some more for me?”

He snaked his hand up my inner thigh and began stroking along my slit, relighting the fire in my stomach. I moaned, biting hard on my lip and tried to bring my thighs together, wanting friction.

“Naughty.” He said, landing a swift slap on my entrance causing me to let out a little yelp. “I need you to keep those legs open for me.”

It wasn’t as bad as the belt. In fact, it felt quite good. The heat inside me swelled as Jerome returned to running his fingers back and forth in my slickness. I hummed softly in my throat, fighting the urge to close my thighs again, my knees starting to shudder underneath me.

“Look how wet you are and I’m barely touching you.” Jerome chuckled darkly. “I wonder what happens if I do this?”

Jerome plunged two fingers deep inside me and slowly started pumping them. I let the warmth roll through me, moaning blissfully. He gently started to pick up speed, making it nearly impossible for me to keep my thighs apart. The faster he got, the deeper he dove, making me tighten around his talented fingers and struggle to keep steady on my toes.

My legs were shaking and despite my best efforts I just had to squeeze them together. As soon as I did, Jerome removed his fingers from me, leaving me feeling empty and spanked me hard.

“What did I say about that?” He barked, laying down another spank.

His spanking felt different this time. It felt pleasurable and sent a thrill up my spine.

“Sorry.” I whimpered.

“Sorry for what?” He spanked me again. “For being a needy little whore? Hm?” Another spank.

“Yes!” I gasped. “I’m a needy little whore! I just...”

“What? You just what?”

Jerome landed another slap at my core. It made my muscles clench, but it also aroused me so much more in a way I’d never thought I’d experience.

“What? What do you want, whore?”

“Please...”

“Big words, princess. What...” Spank. “Do you...” Another spank. “Want?”

“I want... I want you...” I forced, breathlessly.

“You want me? What do you want me to do, princess?” Jerome teased, tracing a finger along my burning entrance, just barely touching me.

“Please... Make me feel good, Jerome... Make me cum.”

“Are you gonna be a good girl?”

“Yes...”

“Are you gonna do as I say?”

“Yes, I will.”

“Exactly as I say?”

“Yes! Yes! Yes! Just please...Jerome.”

I couldn’t take it any longer. I felt so pathetic and needy. I needed him to touch me.

“So desperate.” He giggled sadistically. I supposed he loved seeing me beg.

Then, finally, he spread me open and dove his tongue deep into my wanting warmth. I closed my eyes and bit down hard on my lip as he swirled his tongue around inside me. I wanted to grab his hair and feel it in my fingers, but all I could do was squeeze my fists together in empty frustration.

Jerome grabbed a hand full of my ass, gripping it tightly, digging his nails in and rose his other hand to my pelvis front, pulling me down further onto his tongue. I squealed, a delightful mixture of pleasure and also pain from the tugging on my aching forearms. He ran his front hand down to play with my swollen clit, circling his fingers around beautifully.

He grinded his face deeply into me, sliding his tongue up, down, around and around inside me. He pressed his fingers down harder on my clit, forcing a loud moan out of me. I felt the pressure inside me build, coiling and tightening like a burning spring. I squeezed my thighs around his head in a desperate attempt to pull him deeper, his tongue nestling inside finding all of my sweet spots and lighting them on fire.

I could feel myself ready, ready to burst. He was pulling an amazing orgasm out of me and I wanted nothing more than to just let it go. All it took was one more upward jolt of his head, pushing his tongue that last little bit deep enough to push me over. I screamed out in erotic pleasure, letting the feeling flood me like warm water. My back arched and my legs convulsed until I withered, letting myself dangle from my cuffs in a breathless defeat.

Jerome slid his tongue out of me and pulled his face back away.

“You sing so pretty, dollface. Like a little birdie.” He said, squeezing the flesh off my ass.

He gave me one more light bite and a spank, before he rose back up to stand, snaking his hands along my sides all the way. He let his hands wander up to cup my breasts, massaging them softly. He leaned in close and began leaving wet kisses in the crook of my neck. I shuddered, his touch sending a cool tingle down my spine. He let his hands squeeze my breasts slightly harder, then pulled away and crept back around in front of me.

He stood facing me, his eyes locked on mine. They seemed to burn holes right into my flesh, creating a sense of fear in me. I was scared of Jerome Valeska, I truly was. But everything he was doing to me right now... The way he touched me, kissed me. I wondered how he managed it. How he was able to both terrify and arouse me in equal amounts.

Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t register his hand rising until it was firmly wrapped around my throat. He leaned down to kiss me, dominating my mouth with his tongue, making me taste myself. Once again, I felt the familiar warmth build in my core as I sensed we were not quite done here. He finished the kiss with a little nip to my bottom lip.

“Are you scared of me, doll?” He purred.

I swallowed hard, unsure if truth was wise here. Then I felt him increase the pressure around my throat, not wanting to wait for an answer.

“Yes.” I breathed.

“Good.” He said through an evil smirk.

He crashed his lips to mine once again, his free hand picking up my thigh to wrap around him. I locked both my legs around his waist, wanting to feel him close against me. I felt his erection hard, under his clothes, grinding into me and I wanted it. Badly. He pulled away from the kiss, leaving his taste on my tongue and raised his hand from my throat to grab hold of my face. He took his other hand away from my thigh and pulled at his tie. I didn’t drop my legs this time, instead I gripped tighter as he slid his tie from around his neck and scrunched it in his fist.

“Open your mouth.” He ordered.

I did as he said and he smiled, before spitting into my open lips and gagging me with his tie. I’d never had anyone do that before and it shocked me a little, but then again, I’d never had anyone like Jerome Valeska before.

He backed up slightly, just enough for him to reach down and unzip his trousers and pull down his underwear, freeing his erection. I couldn’t help but look down at it. It was bigger than any I’d taken before and I wasn’t sure how prepared I was. He started to slowly stroke himself, lifting up my chin to look at me.

He gently stroked a single finger across my jaw and then, suddenly, landed a harsh slap across my cheek. I yelped at the slap, causing a dangerous smile to form on Jeromes mouth. I should’ve been repulsed by him. He killed people and was aroused by my pain and fear, so why was I so attracted to him?

He angled himself underneath me so he was lined up and ready. He wrapped his hand back around my throat and then pushed forwards into me, causing us both to let out deep moans.

“You like that?”

I nodded and whimpered through the material of the tie. Jerome giggled darkly and with his free hand, gripped onto my waist.

“Brace yourself, princess.” He warned, through a poisonous smile.

He pulled back slowly, until he was almost completely out of me and then, like a bullet, ploughed himself right back in, jolting me backwards with force. He continued his thrusting rough and fast, making me whimper and bite down hard on the tie. I closed my legs tightly around him, pulling him closer and forcing him in deeper.

He let out a low, guttural groan and moved his hand upwards from my waist to slap me again, spitting at my face as he did so. I closed my eyes to endure the onslaught of him pounding inside me like a raging animal. I felt like a toy, dangling there for him to use as he liked, but still the searing pleasure of it all made me moan lustfully.

“Open those peepers, princess.” He commanded. “I want you to see exactly who’s in charge here.”

I opened my eyes and saw him grinning at me like a man possessed.

“You like this? You like me fucking you?” He growled, gripping my throat tighter.

All I could do was whimper and moan in response.

“I cuffed you and hung you up, hurt you, spat on you... even made you cry! And you still let me fuck you?” He laughed through shallow breaths. “You’re pathetic, you know that? A pathetic little whore.”

Jerome threw another slap at me and I felt myself tighten around his considerable length, taking him all deep inside me. He drove up into me like he was trying to break me open with his girth and I welcomed every inch of it.

“You’re so fucking tight.” He moaned.

I clenched my walls around him, the feeling of being filled by him sending flutters through me as he pushed in deeper and laughed.

“I don’t think your pussy ever wants to let me go, doll!” He grinned. “But I already know you like taking my cock like this, cause you’re such a good girl for me... I like that.”

I flushed at his words. I didn’t know why, but it made me feel good to please him and, in that moment, I would have done anything for him. I could feel my ecstasy creeping up on me, like magma rising inside a volcano. I cried out wantonly, the heat rising as he worked me, exploring every detail of my canal with his thick shaft.

He let go of my throat and moved both his hands to grab onto my ass and squeezed, steadying me so he could pound me harder and climb to release. His thrusts became erratic and sloppy and I could tell he was just as close as I was. I moaned loudly as he rammed into me harder and faster, burying himself deeper and making my arousal burn.

I could feel it coming, so close. I was about to boil over and all I needed was him. Just him. He continued thrusting like a raging animal, digging his nails into my flesh and scraping them along my ass, stinging sweetly. I whimpered at the sensation and tightened my legs.

“Cum for me, doll.” He panted. “I wanna feel you cum on my cock.”

He plunged into me, pushing the magma higher and just so close to bursting. It was coming. I could feel it.

He pounded again. So close. Again and again, so hard inside me. Just a little more...

I screamed out, closing my eyes and letting everything go. The feeling of my orgasm washed over me like a tidal wave of pure elation. My whole body shook from the force of it and I trembled like a leaf. Jerome continued to thrust into me until he too reached his climax. He growled like a beast and I felt him throb, releasing his hot load of sticky lust deep inside me.

We both relaxed, catching our breath and he stared down into my eyes. He unlatched his hands from the flesh of my ass and brought one round to gently stroke my cheek with his fingertips. It was quiet, but only for a minute.

He threw his head back and laughed like the madman he was, before pulling out of me and stepping back. My legs dropped to the floor and he began to put himself away and zip his trousers back up.

“Well, that was fantastic, dollface. Thanks for playing nice with me.” He said, throwing me a wink.

There was a loud metallic knock at the truck doors and I guessed whoever it was, was trying to get Jeromes attention.

“It’s been fun princess, really. But time waits for no man and I’ve got a party to attend” He said, smiling at me. “Well, more like crash.”

When he turned to leave, I tried to speak, but all that came out was intelligible muttering. He wasn’t going to leave me here, dangling, half naked and gagged like this? Was he? He began walking to the truck doors and I tried to call out.

“Oh! Wait, almost forgot.”

I felt a flood of relief when he began walking back to me.

“I’m gonna need this back.” He said and pulled the tie out of my mouth.

I was glad to finally be rid of it, but my joy was short lived, because he was starting to leave again.

“Hey...” I croaked; my mouth dry.

“Yeah, I’ll have someone come get you later.” He said, too nonchalantly for my liking. “For now, you can just... well, why don’t you just hang out?”

He laughed at his joke and opened the doors.

“Hey! You can’t leave me here!” I tried to shout, but my throat was too dry.

And then... he was gone. He really did just leave me alone, half naked in the back of a truck. How long would it be before someone found me? An hour? Two? The rest of the day?

All alone with my thoughts now, I decided the only thing to do now was wait. Wait and try and go over what the hell just happened between me and Jerome Valeska.

#gotham #jerome valeska #jerome x reader #fanfic #smut

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darling-i-read-it · 3 years

Text

Stitches

Jonathan Crane x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: stabbings, gun shots, medical things, stitching

Author’s Note: i got carried away a bit lmao and did more than I intended but I hope you like it kara because you’re amazing and I love your writing sm and I also love cillian murphy in glasses (psa; I do not know lots about the character other than what was in batman begins, I'm much more of a marvel person but cillian murphy-)

Requested: by @karasong, OK! for jonathan crane, could i please request for him to be patched up by the reader who works in the medical profession (like cuts and bruises on his face, so we get that ✨tension✨) i just wanna have an excuse to sit really close to him 😂 THANK YOU in advance!! <333

Summary: the request

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

You had heard plenty of stories of Jonathan Crane, the ruthless and sadistic chief administrator at Arkham Asylum. You had seen him in passing once or twice as he spoke to some higher ups but he mostly never actually dealt with you and your profession.

You worked in the medical ward of the asylum. It was used constantly and aggressively, considering the fact that there wasn’t that high of a security protocol. You got guards and inmates daily. You didn’t mind much. It kept you busy.

Too busy to think about what had happened to the inmates or what the inmates had done.

“Did you hear what Harrison Wells did to get in here? Apparently he corrupted the Flash or something,” your co-worker, Lucy muttered to you. She carefully put down all of the bandages in order. It was a slower day at work. You shook your head.

“Isn’t the Flash in Central City? What is he doing in Arkham?”

“Too dangerous to be held in the place they had there.”

“Look forward to meeting him,” you muttered gravely. You likely would, especially if he was a new inmate. No one took quietly to the new ones.

The phone of the medical ward rang.

“Your turn,” Lucy muttered. You let out a small sigh and picked it up.

“Medical, this is Y/N,” you said clearly into the phone.

“What is your status?”

“Nurse.”

“Please come up to Mr. Crane’s office alone.” Your eyes went wide. You had never spoken to the man before. You cleared your throat.

“Can I ask why?”

“No.” The man hung up. You slowly put the phone down. Lucy looked up at you, eyebrows furrowed. Your shoulders slumped.

“I’m off to Jonathan Crane's office.” She scoffed. You grabbed your bag full of things.

“Good luck with that.” You nodded and went on your way, trying to hide your worry. You walked through the hallways of Arkham, now familiar to them but never quite used to them. Your work kept you mostly safe but you were disposable. Anyone could grab you and break your neck and they could get a whole new nurse.

You reached Crane’s office quickly. He was sitting behind his desk, glasses on over his face. He looked fine. You thought maybe he had been hurt.

“Are you an admirable nurse?” he asked as you came inside. You nodded gently.

“Yes.” He gestured for you to come over. You noted there were no guards in the room. Odd, considering his position. You walked over to his desk and stopped warily.

“Come over to this side,” he said. You nodded quickly and walked over to the side he was on. You noticed fast that his leg had been badly hurt. He was bleeding from the shin. You kneeled down, unable to help yourself. Your hand hovered above the bloody mess. You couldn’t even tell if it was a cut or stab or anything there was so much going on

“Mr. Crane, what happened?” you breathed.

“Jonathan,” he grumbled. You quickly grabbed your bag, thankful you had brought it. “And you don’t get paid to ask questions.” You nodded gently and started to take things out of your bag carefully.

“I need to see it’s full scale. I hope you don’t care much for these pants.” He laughed dryly.

“Are you asking me to take off my pants?”

“I’m asking you if I can cut them off sir.” Jonathan looked to the side at the door and then nodded, annoyed. You quickly cut his pant leg off so and then started to clean off the blood. It was a stab, thankfully nothing too deep.

“Ouch! Don’t be so rough,” he muttered.

“I need to stitch it. Would you like something for the pain?”

“No.” You nodded and got your supplies together. You looked up into his striking blue eyes through his glasses. They looked down at you. You couldn’t help but feel a twist in your stomach at his watchful gaze. You quickly looked back down at his wound.

“This will hurt,” you said and without much other warning, started to stitch the wound. He gasped, putting his hand on your shoulder. He gripped it so tight it began to hurt but you were too focused to tell him to stop. You moved as quickly and gently as you could.

When you were finished you put down the needle and then placed your hand gently on his that was still holding your shoulder for dear life.

He had been looking at the ceiling and now his eyes went to you.

“I’m done.” He let your shoulder go, embarrassed he had been using you as a crutch. You stood up. “Can I-”

“It was an inmate. A nasty one. He’s in solitary.”

“Good. That wasn’t a pretty stab.”

“Are any of them pretty?”

“Sometimes. When the person deserves them.” He gave you a small smile. It fit his pretty features.

“What was your name?”

“Y/N.” He nodded a bit.

“You’re dismissed.”

====

You saw Jonathan Crane more times in that next month than you ever had. He came often to the infirmary with the inmates he particularly hated. He made note to see you each time, though it wasn’t typically orthodox. Lucy thought he had a thing for you. You just hoped you weren’t going to get fired.

The phone rang. Your shift ended in ten minutes. Lucy picked it up as her shift didn't end for another couple hours.

“Medical, this is Lucy.” She paused to listen. She hummed in agreement and then hung up the phone.

“Jonathan Crane wants you in his office again.” You nodded, ignoring her watchful teasing gaze.

“I’ll see you tomorrow if I’m not fired.”

“Fired? Plese.”

You walked up to his office carefully. You opened the door without knocking and he was waiting behind his desk. When you stepped inside you dropped your bag in surprise.

He was wearing a scarecrow mask. You knew it was him, you recognized the way he gripped his pencil and his set shoulders.

“Jonathan?”

“Close the door.” You did as you were told and picked up your bag again, walking over to his side of the desk. He looked fine. Perfectly fine.

“Are you alright?” He took the mask off and slowly replaced it with his glasses. He pursed his lips, sitting back in his chair. You couldn’t help but stare at the mask as he put it down on his desk.

“Yes.”

“How is your leg?”

“Good. You did good.”

“Thank you. If you’re okay then...what did you need me for?” He looked up at you, a slight twitch to his lips.

“Do you like the mask?”

“Yes, I guess. Depends on what you’re going for.”

“I’m going for intimidation.”

“Then you’re on the money.” He smiled slightly and nodded, looking down at himself. He tried to see it from your perspective.

“Leave the bag. You’re dismissed.”

====

You were walking down the streets of Gotham that fateful afternoon. You were just trying to get home. Walking alone was always ill advised in Gotham City but you couldn’t help yourself. You didn’t want to take a train. That was always a sure way to get hurt. Plus, your place wasn’t that far.

You were almost there when someone grabbed your arm. You rummaged through your purse for your knife but stopped when you noticed the face staring back at you.

“Where’s your apartment?”

“Up there,” you pointed at your building. Jonathan nodded, clearing his throat.

“Take me there.” He shoved your bag in your hands and followed you upstairs. When you got there you could finally look at him properly. He was shot in the chest.

You sat him down on your tattered couch and opened your bag.

“That wasn’t an inmate.”

“No it wasn’t,” he breathed. You quickly opened his button up and started tending to it.

“If I hadn’t seen your mask, I would ask you if you were the Batman.”

“Not nearly as innocent.”

“The Batman isn’t innocent.” He shook his head, a devilish smile on his face.

“You’re right.” You got the bullet out without mentioning it and his hand went to your upper arm, holding you tightly as you worked silently.

You got it done in record timing. You looked up at his face, far too close to not feel anything for him.

“I don’t want to know,” you whispered. He nodded a bit and kissed you without warning. You moved forward, pulling away to breathe and then kissing him again. You almost climbed on top of him and you would have, if it had not been for the bullet hole in his chest. “You’ll be okay.” He smirked.

“Good thing I had you to help me.” You nodded, still able to feel his breath on your face.

“Yes. Good thing.”

#jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane imagines #dc imagines

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