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kettlefire · 7 months

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Ember & the Dark Knight

She just wanted her guitar back. That's all Ember wanted, she needed it. The growing pain inside grew the longer she was away from it.

Her only outlet. The only thing that helped her. In every way of the word. She had to fight tooth and nail to be allowed to keep it in the first place.

Promised she's never use it against the living again. Never try to brainwash anyone.

Then she lost it. Just like that. Flying through the Zone, and a particularly harsh natural portal ripped it from her grasp.

It's the only reason she was in this godforsaken city. It reeked of anguish and pain, and Ember just wanted to get out of there.

Something about the place the portal spit her out into, just didn't sit right with her. She wanted in and out of quickly as possible.

To just get back home in the Zone. Back to Skulker.

Except there just had to be a really weird guy in burlap sack mask. Which was weird enough as is, but hey Ember wasn't one to judge.

She tried to be civil. To ask for her guitar back. Her baby that the man had clutched in his grasps.

Maybe she should have seen it coming. This place had to be stranger than Amity. The man barely even flinched when he saw her glowing form.

Ember expected a fight okay. That was it, just a fight and then she can take her things and get the hell out of dodge.

But it couldn't be that easy. Of course it couldn't be.

Because then a large man in a black armor suit just had to come falling down from the ceiling. And of course the human man seemed to scare the weird Scarecrow guy.

Ember tried to be calm again. She really did, she promised the little dipstick that she's work on her anger.

That was until she got a burst of green gas into her face.

It was almost comical. The way she swatted the gas away from her face with a slight cough. Glaring at Scarecrow and Batman. As she found out the dude in the furry suit was called.

Scarecrow seemed excited, like he couldn't wait to see what happened. But Ember noticed Batman tense. Weapons on hand, and ready for what to come. Leaving her in a full confusion.

Then it happened. Whatever that gas was finally kicked in.

And everything was on fire.

She couldn't breath. Oh god, she couldn't breath. Heat radiated from the walls, and the two men just faded from her focus.

She needed to get out.

And she tried. She tried, even as her no longer functioning lungs seemed to ache for air.

Even as her core seemed to mimic a heart. Straining, and pounding against the fear, panic, and pain she felt.

But Ember tried to suck it up. Pull away from the licking heat of the flames. Forcing her way through the warehouse.

Looking for an exit. An escape. Anyway to get her way back home. To get back to Skulker.

At this point, Ember didn't care about her guitar anymore. It could burn for all she cared. She just wanted to get back to her love.

All that fight she felt faded away in an instant. Zapping out of her the moment her eyes landed on him.

Skulker, the love of her life, was there.

Trapped in the flames before her. The metal of his suit twisting and warping. Damn near melting beneath the intense heat.

A pain Ember wouldn't would even wish on her worse enemy. She knew what it felt like to burn. It felt like she was dying watching it happen to Skulker.

She stared wide eyed and frozen as the twisted and broken Skulker tried to stagger towards her. Broken sounds and choked screams leaving him as his suit fell apart. As the fire began to take over.

Ember fell to her knees, tears streaming down her face and pain tearing at her heart. She couldn't breath. She didn't need to but she felt like she was suffocating.

Then she screamed.

The first sound she made since this nightmare began. Reverberating through her chest, tearing out from her vocal cords in a damn near painful sound.

She wasn't sure when she had closed her eyes. But before she knew it, there were hands on her shoulder. And she fought back. Tried to shove the hands off her. Too panicked to even think of her powers.

She was terrified of what she'll see. A twisted and melting Skulker pulling her closer the fire. The only image her brain could fathom for the reason of the too warm hands grasping at her arms.

Ember heard it. Barely there behind the loud roar of the fire, and the still broken cries of her lover. It was a voice.

A normal voice. A concerned voice.

It took all her willpower to pull her eyelids open. Prepared to see the worse of the worse. Except it wasn't like that.

The fire seemed like an overlay. A horrible projection of something that wasn't there. Expect him. He was real. Ember knew it, because he was there when the nightmare started.

The man in the suit. The Batman.

His gloved hands were trying to pull her back to reality. Pull her away from the nightmare.

"Look at me. It's not real."

Those words, spoken in the gruff and deep almost robotic voice was what did it for her.

Almost in an instance, it was all gone. She was seated on a perfect fine, and not burning warehouse floor. Tears burning her eyes, chest in complete pain, as her core rocked with the experience.

Ember didn't know why she did it. Maybe she just need to feel comforted. Like a child after a nightmare, she latched onto the man.

The man that pulled her out of this nightmare. Both residual fear and panic, paired with overwhelming relief flooded her.

Because she gets to go home. Back to Skulker. Back to the Zone. She even gets to see that little dipstick again.

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booktiger13 · 10 months

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Imagine Tim gets hit with fear gas or something and he sees Alfred.

And Hallucination Alfred tells him that he failed his test- he couldn't find him, didn't investigate his death, like he did with Bruce, that he waited to be found but Tim didn't find him.

Tim gets the added on paranoia that Alfred called it a Test, Bruce had already used a test like this, and Alfred had been in on it. [Robin 116-120]

Could be used as a reveal for his siblings/teammates finding out, or Tim coming to terms that Bruce was a emotionally manipulative duchebag.

#batfam #dc comics #batman #tim drake #alfred pennyworth #bruce wayne #red robin #robin comics #angst #fear gas #dc #agent a #young just us

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jube-art · 6 months

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Fear Gas!

Happy Halloween Discord!

#art #bruce wayne #clark kent #batman #superman #superbat #fear gas #my art #dc #dc comics #justice league

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atlas-likes-writing · 3 months

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Febuwhump day 3: "Bite down on this."

Characters: Red Hood/Jason Todd, Nightwing/Dick Grayson, The Black Bat/Cassandra Cane, Signal/Duke Thomas, Red Robin/Tim Drake, Robin/Damian Wayne, Batman/Bruce Wayne (mentioned), Agent A/Alfred Pennyworth (mentioned).

Summary: A new variant of Jonathon Crane's Fear toxin has been rumoured to be released. When Jason gets effected, it feels like he's burning alive.

Word Count: 1,079

Tags: Whump, graphic depictions of pain and injury, needles/syringes, toxic gas/gas masks, depictions of fire/being burned.

Authors note: Wrote this when I was sleep deprived in about two hours. Enjoy! This has not been edited so expect mistakes.

Day One | Day Two | Masterlist

@febuwhump

The news had said that there was word of a new strain of Fear toxin out in the streets that felt like you were burning alive. Hell, maybe you were; in your mind. The news had also said that there was no cure to this new strain, and citizens were urged to stay inside and wear their state-funded gas masks courtesy of Wayne Enterprises.

The news does not always speak the truth, though. There was a cure to this new version of Fear. It just hadn’t been developed yet.

It currently is in the process of being synthesised in the lab of the BatCave. The last time Jason checked; the percentage was 24%. That 24% happened over the space of two days, so it’s safe to say that it’s taking a long time. The molecular formula of this strain is almost entirely different from its less potent counterparts, which makes the lives of both Alfred and Bruce much more difficult. So difficult, in fact, that the Bat isn’t able to leave for patrol at all, instead having to survey the development of the cure during all hours of the day. The gas is colourless, so you don’t know when it strikes you until it does.

That leaves his many children to deal with the fallout. They’re out in the streets nightly, with their patrols sometimes prolonging until the sun is beating down on them from above. Damian and Tim had to put in their absences at school due to “personal family matters” so they were able to help as many people as possible. There’s not much that any of them can do, though. They can only jump at the sound of civilians screaming out in pain as invisible fire scorches their veins. They can only shove their gas masks over their faces and rush over to where the person writhes on the floor and take them out of the area; to the nearest Gotham Hospital that is steadily reaching capacity with beds overcome by shaking and screaming patients all witnessing the same thing.

They’ve had to enlist the help of the police by cordoning off streets and buildings that are known to have gas. The colourless compound makes their lives even more difficult, requiring Oracle’s expert deduction skills to figure out where it has spread and when the wind changes.

The family has dealt with it well! Dick has been pulled from Bludhaven to help and Jason has been less bitchy than usual (Tim’s words, much to the dismay of Jason).

Well, at least until now.

With the focus of the resident vigilantes on containing the gas, regular crime has been on the rise. They bag up the odd criminal when they stumble across them, but most of the time they’ve unfortunately had to go free. This threat is simply too large to spare any members of the Batfamily for the run-of-the-mill criminal on the streets.

Unfortunately for one run-of-the-mill criminal, he happened to stumble across Red Hood while he was carrying the final civilian in a building out and away from the gas inside. The thug is the same size and Jason and appears to have similar muscle mass, so Jason might have his work cut out for him if he’s aiming to not kill the man opposing him.

They land heavy hits on each other for a while. Jason headbutts the man and the tubes of the mask the other is wearing jiggle about a bit. Then the criminal lands a mean right hook across the jaw of his helmet, causing Jason to stumble back and nearly fall over. It’s only when he’s pinned to the floor when he’s distracted that he realises something is wrong.

It starts as a warm feeling in his outer extremities, but soon crescendos into his legs catching fire and his clothing setting ablaze. It’s not real. Jason knows it’s not real; but holy fuck does it feel real.

At this point the thug has scrambled away from the writhing man, realising he’s won and not wanting the repercussions that come with it. The sound of rapid footsteps grows quieter and is soon drowned out by the sound of Jason’s screams. Orange heat licks up his spine and makes him curl up and convulse in pain that isn’t there. His cries of agony bury the yells of his brother as the blue vigilante sprints towards him. He nearly knocks the poor man out when Dick throws his entire weight on Jason to keep him still, limbs flailing and screams of “Get away from me!” tear their way out of his throat.

“Alfred! When is that antidote ready?” Dick yells into his comm link.

“It is at 93%, master Richard. Bring Red Hood back to the BatCave so he can be treated.”

That is a task easier said than done. Especially when you’ve got to lug a 200 pound brick shit-house from one end of Gotham to the other. It takes two tranquillizers to put Jason under, and even then, he can’t help but shake and convulse in his sleep.

After what seems like hours, Dick, with the help of Cass, Tim, Duke, and Damian, manage to throw the agonised body of Jason onto the medical cot. His wrists and ankles are strapped to the bed and his torso is tied down with something that looks like duct tape, but probably isn’t. The percentage of the antidote is now 98%, so all the family can do is wait.

And wait they do, until Jason wakes up and starts thrashing. around on the cot. The rest of the family seem to have underestimated Jason’s strength – especially under the influence of Fear toxin. The worst part of it all is that the man seems perfectly lucid. He’s conscious about everything that occurs around him, yet he’s hallucinating an inferno eating him up and spitting him out. Dick has to hold him down by his shoulders to keep Jason from breaking out of his restraints.

“Here, bite down on this,” Dick states, holding a piece of cloth up to his brother's mouth for him to bite down on. Jason does; his teeth clamp down on the checkered item and his screams become muffled. It’s then when the ding of the antidote dispenser sounds, and the compound is immediately bottled and duplicated. It’s then pressed into a syringe and stabbed into one of Jason’s shaking arms.

It works clearly, and as a result Jason falls unconscious, exhausted.

AO3

#dc comics #batfamily #gotham #batman #dc #jason todd #red hood #dick grayson #nightwing #fear gas #febuwhump #febuwhump 2024 #fanfiction #whump

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theterrornaut · 18 days

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Creepy Batman fanart

#art #digital art #comic art #batman #batman 85 #dc comics #batman scarecrow #fear gas #gotham #i ripped off kelly jones #gotta be my favourite batman interpretation

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batfamficprompts · 8 months

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Prompt #23

Jason gets hit with Fear Toxin and Tim stays with him through the entire thing.

#batfam #batfamily #fanfic writing prompts #writing prompt #jason todd #tim drake #jaytim #jaytim if you want it to be #fear gas #fear toxin

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ghostly-penumbra · 5 months

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DPxDC Week 2023

14: Danny Fenton/Full HAZMAT AU/Fear Gas

Ao3

Phantom felt his mask be ripped, torn from his essence taken from him, and he gasped in surprise, but quickly stopped his breathing, and the gas only made him dizzy and a bit on edge.

“Phantom!” Batman, his own mask still firmly in place covering his mouth and nose, called out to him even as he knocked more goons on his way.

He was caring like that, but don’t tell him Phantom said so.

“It’s okay! I’m dead, I don’t need to breathe.” Which was a half lie, but Danny excelled in those.

But Batman was staring at him, mouth gaping for a second, before he composed himself.

“Be careful.” He said, softer than Phantom expected of the tough vigilante. “Let’s go.”

#Danny Phantom #DC Comics #Danny Fenton #Full HAZMAT AU #fear gas #Batman #Bruce Wayne

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valkenopsia · 1 month

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Todays warm up: Gotham’s Jonathan Crane/Scarecrow

#scarecrow #gotham #jonathan crane #fear gas #batman #comic art

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noneknxws · 6 months

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fear gas is cool and all, but what if Crane made a gas that affects the fucked up parts of your brain? that makes the intrusive thoughts louder? that makes the executive paralysis worse? that ups the sensory issues by 110%?

i think his evil evil psychologist brain would love dissecting neurodivergent thoughts and such

i went insane in the tags about this and other scenarios

#i love crane #and he’d probably be so ableist for this #but this would be SO interesting #especially with nightwinf because I know that mf has adhd #imagine dick getting sprayed with the gas and his mind is 10x more loud #or Bruce’s very real anxiety getting so so so bad #I just. yeah #batman #dc #scarecrow dc #jonathon crane #dick Grayson #nightwing #fear gas #HOLY MACARONI ALSO #Jason or whoever talking to neurodivergent kids in the lower parts of gotham #Duke could do that too #Cass meeting ‘gifted kids’ in Chinatown and finding another nonverbal girl #i.

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jonathan-cranes-mistress-of-fear · 1 year

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_FEAR GAS GRUNGE_

#Jonathan Crane #Scarecrow #The Scarecrow #Fear State #Fear Toxin #Fear Gas #DC #DCEdit #Batman #BatmanEdit #ScarecrowEdit #My Edits #My Gifs

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queerheremydepressionissevere · 9 months

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I got hit with fear gas while I had a migraine and while, yes, I had to deal with like 30 minutes of absolute misery, MY MIGRAINE IS COMPLETELY GONE.

And really, what is a migraine but absolutely misery anyways?

#gothamite #only in gotham #summer in gotham #gotham be like #life in gotham #fear gas #fear gas or migraine cure?#Scarecrow

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constantron · 2 years

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just some priest Scarecrow for fun

#scarecrow #jonathan crane #fear gas #censer

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cant-have-shit-in-gotham · 1 day

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Thirteen hours.

It’s been thirteen hours since Scarecrow escaped Arkham. Nobody knows where he is, nobody knows his plans, and nobody knows when they will take place. All they know is that it’s going to be bad.

From what little you can see on the security footage, Scarecrow is pissed. The kind of pissed where he attacks orphanages and playgrounds instead of office buildings and warehouses.

And it's been

Thirteen

Hours.

[CW below the cut: mentions of bullet wounds, stitches. Screaming. Lots of screaming. Mentions of torture, especially in a medical setting, mental torture, mention of child torture, the chick is Creepy but doesn’t do anything SA-y but I’m gonna mention it just in case, mention of being trapped, mention of “the box” that might set off claustrophobia, being a self sacrificing parent, calling a child “it.”

Let me know if I forgot anything or if you spot an error]

————————————

Wil is almost relieved when Scarecrow finally surfaces. A typical attack on an occupied warehouse, one where the bats collectively decide that Hood and his henches have it handled and let them do their own thing.

When they arrive, they're not prepared for a firefight. They were expecting to see more people screaming on the ground from fear toxin than bullet wounds—they don't have enough medical supplies, and they certainly don't have enough ammo.

But they're Hood’s men. They claw their way to victory with bloodied hands. While they rush to save as many gunshot victims as possible, they don’t realize that they haven’t needed their gas masks yet. They don’t realize that Scarecrow isn’t done. Not until it’s almost too late, not until toxic green gas starts seeping up through the floor.

Beforehand, Wil is thinking about a large crack in the back of his boss’ helmit, where an enemy goon tried to knock his skull in with a metal bat.

After, Wil’s first thought is Aw shit, and his second is Holy shit boss’ ‘elmit is crack’d.

As he races over to where Hood is kneeling, stitching up a gunshot wound on one of Wil‘s coworkers, he mentally checks what all he brought with him.

Two gas masks and a rebreath’r. One mask got hit wit’ a stray bull’t, but the oth’r one and the rebreath’r ar’ fine.

When he finally, finally, arrives at Hood’s side, all he has time to do is stuff the mask in his face, say “Your ‘elmets cracked,” and stick the rebreather in his own mouth.

Ok, Terror Protocol.

-Ensure everyon’ dangerous ‘as a mask (Check)

-Find a mask fer yerself if ya can (His eyes scan the room, but everyone else had ta use ‘eir extras fer vict’ms)

-Leave if possible (“Boss,” calls anoth’r goon, we’re lock’d in from th’ outside.” Shit)

-Hand someone mask’d yer weapons (He starts throwing his guns and knives at Hood’s feet, desperately trying not ta pass out from the oxygen deprivation)

-Warn someon’ about triggers that could make ya violent (He feels his heart rate pick up as soon as he takes a breath of toxic green air. “Boz,” he chokes out, “k’p m’ aw’y fr’m med’c’l sh’t an’ an’on’ ‘n wh’te.”) [Boss, keep me away from medical shit and anyone in white.]

The Boss shouts something, but someone starts screaming with Wil’s next gasping breath and he can’t tell what was said.

Distantly, he recognises his own voice.

————————————

Riley hears Hood’s “Get us th’ hell outta ‘ere!” but only barely, because just as soon as he’s said it, someone starts screaming. The kind of screaming that reminds them of someone being tortured, taken apart slowly and never really put back together.

A second or two later, the sound stops—so abruptly they wonder if they ever heard it at all.

The other goons are searching for an exit or way to make one, so Riley looks for Hood, to see if he needs any help with whoever got dosed.

Fuck, they think, that’s Greenie.

Greenie, real name Wilbur Jacobs, has worked for Hood for three years. He started as a goon but worked his way up to the point where he’s now sixth in the hierarchy and even leads his own team of goons at times. He was actually the one to hire Riley in the first place.

(Greenie gets his nickname from a long conversation about the Green Lantern, where he made the joke “If ‘is ring runs on willpow’r, that mean I could control it? ‘Cause a my mast’ry of my own Wil-pow’r?”)

Greenie looks like shit. He’s shaking like a leaf in a hurricane; his hands are clasped in front of him like they’re cuffed there; his eyes are darting back and forth, scanning for hallucinated enemies, glassy, like he’s barely holding back tears, and terrified. Worse than Riley‘s ever seen in somebody who’s been fear-gassed.

Worst of all is the muttering.

It’s only partly intelligible, but that’s only because he’s spitting his words through his teeth, not moving his jaw at all. (Did he think he was muzzled?)

“Damn you. Damn you. You can’t have him. You won’t touch him-”

“Ma- no, ma please-”

“If you touch one hair on my son’s head, I’ll make the Alcatraz escape look like a petty quarrel. I’ll string you up by your intestines-“

“Don’t leave me alone Pa, please I’m sorry-“

“Don’t- don’t touch him. Please. Leave my son alone. I swear- I- I’ll stop fighting. I’ll go back. Just let him go. Please-“

Shaking themself back to the real world, Riley turns to Hood. “Antidote not work?”

“No- he’ll have to wait till the Bats get here so they can synthesize one.”

Greenie was screaming again.

“I think-“ the Boss cuts himself off, “I think this one makes you feel the pain. Not just in resurfaced memories either.”

Riley flinches at a particularly pained scream, “I think you’re right.”

————————————

No. Nonononono no NO

Not again. Please. This can't be happening again please no pleasenono-

“And here I thought three years was long enough to make you stronger. It’s a pity that you’re just as pathetic as you were before.”

No not Her pleasenotHerno-

“Stop screaming. Look at me.”

And he does and She’s just as crazed-excited-cruel-

“There we go.” And She turns off the machine and he can breathe-

“I’m thrilled you found yourself a little toy. A talon, impressive. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“Damn you. Damn you.” he spits, “You can’t have him. You won’t touch him-”

“Have you already forgotten that you don’t get to tell me what to do, Subject g-7512?”

And then She had his ma’s face and he was being left again and he was only seven howcouldthey-

“Ma- no, ma please-”

“Aww. Calling for your mum again?” And She was Herself and his ma was gone-

“Bring it in,” She called, and Wolf and Snake were hauling something through the door-

Morel.

“If you touch one hair on my son’s head, I’ll make the Alcatraz escape look like a petty quarrel. I’ll string you up by your intestines-“

She tsks at him, “Threats? Again? Have you not learned from last time?” And he did and he still had the scars but that was his son-

“A week in the box.”

“You’re a disappointment, son.“ That was his pa, behind him, to the right. “I’m glad we left you in that alley. You’ve only ever been a worthless leech.”

And he can’t turn to face him and his pa always hated that-

“Don’t leave me alone Pa, please I’m sorry-“

“Don’t worry sweetheart, you’re not alone. You have me, and Wolf, and Snake- and the Talon of course. I wonder- should we return it to the Court, or do our own tests on it?”

“Don’t- don’t touch him. Please.” he begs, “Leave my son alone. I swear- I- I’ll stop fighting. I’ll go back. Just let them go. Please-“

She tsks at him again. Then motions for Wolf to turn the machine back on andhecantbreathe andhe’sscreaming andShetoldhimnotto andhecan’tstop

————————————

When he comes to he feels exhausted and his throat hurts and his boss is staring at him where he’s sitting in the dirt and-

The dirt? His boss? Wil stares up at the red helmet of the Hood and tries to ask what happened, but his voice doesn’t work.

“Don’t talk, Greenie,” Hood says, in lieu of a greeting. “Drink this.”

His boss hands him a thermos, which he finds is filled with Earl Gray tea.

The warm drink soothes his throat enough to croak, “Wher’z Mor?” [Where is Morel]

“Asleep. About 10 feet behind you,” Hood answers. “You gave us quite the scare.”

“Don’ wor’y,” WiI replies, ‘ad a ‘ell a time m’self.”

“What part of ‘don’t talk’ means ‘don’t shut up’?”

Wil smirks, and is going to try and croak out another answer, but instead gets tackled by his kid.

“Father,” they start, “Injured?”

“Sor’ an’ tir’d”

“Going home.” And then there's forty-five pounds of ex-assassin trying to drag him off in the direction of their apartment.

He gives his boss a look that says Pleas’ save me. But Hood just says “Good idea squirt, I was going to send you both that way in just a second.”

When they’re finally home, Wil puts on a happy, safe TV show, and wraps himself and Morel up in a blanket with a cup of tea. And even though the day was terrifying, and neither of them sleep, they have a good night and throw popcorn at the screen whenever the characters do something dumb.

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