#tw: fear toxin

[lasagnebats]

some deranged Scarecrow/Jonathan Crane 💋

#tw needles #batman #jonathan crane #dr jonathan crane #cillian murphy #my art #dr crane #batman fanart #artwork #dc jonathan crane #fanart #scarecrow fanart #dc scarecrow #cillian murphy scarecrow #scarecrow #the scarecrow #needle #nolanverse #batman begins #fear toxin #tw syringe #tw syringes #syringe #syringes

[autisticrosewilson]

Fic idea where Bruce gets dosed with a new strain of fear toxin post ADitF and sees Catherine and Willis.

How do you look a mother in the eye after bastardizing the memory of her son?

What claim to fatherhood does he have after ruining Jason's chances at everything Willis died to give him?

What else is there to do when you have everything you failed to do thrown back in your face? When those you have replaced look you in the eye and demand penance?

There aren't words strong enough. There is no room for apologies here, because you know that they will not forgive you. That is not the point of this.

These ghosts are angry Bruce, their son is a bloody mangled thing on the cold concrete and you are stained with his blood. Wasn't it you who gave him the cape? You who first called him that cursed name? You who put him in harms way?

Catherine reaches out a boney, shaking hand and points to that god forsaken case. This is how you've chosen to remember my baby?

You are starkly, dreadfully aware of the inscription on that plaque. Suddenly that veneer of distance is cracking, too much pressure applied to fragile glass, causing hairline fractures on the surface.

Face your guilt, they tell him, a life for a life.

You try to tell them that you loved him too, that you didn't mean for this to happen but your words die in your throat.

Jason looks so much like Willis. He made the same face of disgusted accusation at the crooks they interviewed sometimes, when they'd done something particularly heinous but wouldn't own up to it. It gut punches him, lands with a force greater than any physical blow.

Face your guilt, they tell him, a life for a life.

He throws a shaking punch that misses by a mile. How could that happen? He's Batman, he doesn't miss, he doesn't falter or hesitate.

His heavy gauntlets collide with glass. The case cracks and the whispers spur him on. He repeats the motion with more purpose this time, reaches his hands through the hole to pry the glass apart.

A life for a life.

There's a noise, a voice maybe, from behind him but Bruce can't hear it over the sounds of wrathful mourning in his head.

Strong hands wrap around his wrist, the knuckles are bruised and the fingers are bent from too many years being broken and healed and broken again.

Willis guides the glass to Bruce's face, his hands tightly closed around a large piece that gets closer and closer to his mouth. His jaw is slack and he doesn't even think to move it. He deserves this. This is the way to forgiveness. Jason is waiting for him, he thinks he can hear his boys voice, watery and lost, calling out for Bruce.

There's blood in his mouth, burning pain in his lips and tongue but nowhere near as painful as the bloody, gaping hole in his chest where his heart has been ripped out and buried.

Hands, tangible and alive, wrench him backwards and the illusion breaks.

"Bruce!" It's Dick's voice, Dick's arms around his forearms pinning his wrists at his sides.

There's blood and glass pooling at his feet and when he looks up he can see Alfred's contained horror and Tim peaking around the corner.

No Catherine or Willis. No Jason.

"Have we found the antidote yet?" His voice is too raw to be Batman's gruffness but Bruce Wayne would not brush off the blood in his mouth so easily.

Alfred's mouth twists to form a disproving grimace but his response is curt and neutral. "Just about. Although I feel it best you wait in the observation holding until we're finished." It's not optional, despite the phrasing.

Bruce allows himself to be shut in the glass box and tries to ignore the way his hands are still shaking.

#dc #bruce wayne #Catherine Todd #Willis Todd #Jason Todd #tw// blood #tw// death #fear toxin #my writing #todd family lore

[jonathan-cranes-mistress-of-fear]

I'm one crazy fearmongerer

#Jonathan Crane #Scarecrow #The Scarecrow #Needles #Syringes #Medical tw #Fear Toxin #DC #DC Comics #DC Scarecrow #My Edits #ScarecrowEdit

[villianoftheweek]

Heres a WIP of my scarecrow because i haven't posted about batman in a while and im super proud of this

#scarecrow #jonathan crane #the scarecrow #fear toxin #Tw needle #fanmade design #cadeverse #dc #art wip #wip #art #batman

[outletcrash]

ive been way too sleepy to draw anything detailed (like humans), so heres a fear toxin hallucination. 

horror art is very vibes-based so its great to just relax and do whatever on the canvas for an hour. 

#a lot of my spooky art makes the monsters agonized/wailing/vomiting #idk why #the scarecrow #scarecrow #horror art #cw blood #tw blood #tw needles #horror #my art #digital art #fear toxin #reminiscent of that drawing of jonathan i did a while back #which has way too many notes like tf

[batstorm93672]

The Fear of Losing

Robin was odd when affected by Fear Toxin, he wasn't in fear like the others. His first reaction was violence, he would attack anything that moved, it was difficult getting him to stop. After his violent stage, he became silent and would barely move which in turn scared the others.

What took everyone off guard one night was when he spoke so eerily as if his voice wasn't his own. "Where is he..?" Batman looked confused "Who are you talking about?" Red Robin frowned "He's never spoken, he isn't even violent"

"Akhi... must find him"

"Who's Akhi?"

"Jason... my Akhi, what did you do to him!?" Robin took his katana and raised it against the two. "I take it back, he's very violent!" "But he has an objective, the question is why?" "Well B from what I know, recently the two have been hanging out since Dick went to go help the Titans with some mission" "I see, well we have to stop him either way"

"STOP TALKING WHERE IS AKHI!"

"Uuuuhh what do we say?"

Batman raised his hands "Son, Jason is busy right now. So come with us and we'll help you get to him"

"I don't need you!" Robin ran, giving chase as Robin kept throwing batarangs and any type of gadget he could use to stop them. Finally Robin took out a smoke bomb and disappeared in the end.

"Red, contact Hood, tell him to be careful"

"You got it"

.

He reacted differently, he's sorta violent, but he's looking for you for some reason

"For me? What did that demon spawn get into?"

No clue, we're coming over now

"Alright, see ya"

Jason turned off the call and looked around, nothing so far. The comfort of his apartment not feeling so nice anymore, if Damian is violent who knows what he may do.

"Akhi..!" The window, Jason should have realized that Damian always enters his apartment that way "Damian, listen to me. I'm not gonna hurt you"

"It's not you, it's the assassins after you. I must protect you Akhi"

What..? Was Damian afraid that Jason would get hurt? So his violent reaction was mixed with the need to protect him... it would be adorable if not problematic. "Damian there's no one after me" "They chased me. If they find us they'll take you from me! I can't let that happen!" Damian grabbed to the sides of Jason's shirt "I can't lose you! I'll protect you with my life Akhi, if they try anything I'll stop them!" "Damian. Listen to me carefully, the only people coming over are Tim and Bruce. Their going to help you" "I- No! Lies all lies, Akhi please you must trust me on this. I only wish to save you"

Jason heard sounds and Batman came in through the window, next to show was Red Robin. Jason held Damian "Alright no one do anything! He's convinced you are both assassins here to kill me and he is literally willing to protect me with his own life. So please, let me talk him down from it"

Damian meanwhile was glaring daggers at the two, standing in front of Jason. "Approach my brother and I will kill you without a second thought!" "Damian, that's Bruce and Tim, they're not here to hurt me. Please, I trust you very well, all I ask is that you do the same" Damian faltered as Jason kept hold of him "I- N-No... I trust you... but I can't-" Damian gasped and looked at Jason in horror "What... what did you do?" He looked back at Batman, his look of fury increasing tenfold "He... why? I'LL KILL YOU!" Damian held his katana up, shouting as he rushed over, aiming to chop their heads off, luckily they got away.

"It's the fear part, he's convinced you... died" Batman looked at Jason as he spoke and Jason looked at Damian "Damian I'm right here, your Akhi is here Habibi" Damian groaned, clutching his head "He's gone! Stop speaking to me!" "Do you really think I'd die like that? You know me better than that" "H-He... he can't be gone..." Damian dropped down, tears going down his face "He can't be... not another brother" Jason kneeled down to Damian and held him "I'm okay, I'm right here" Jason beckoned to Batman and Batman tossed the antidote, Jason caught it without hesitation and carefully injected it into Damian's arm. "There you go I'm here for you" Damian went limp, Jason kept holding him in his arms. "I'm coming with you to the Manor" No one argued against Jason's words and got into the Batmobile.

"So... Akhi?"

Jason glared at Tim who was grinning like an idiot, well more than usual that is. "He kept calling you Akhi and you called him Habibi, I'm just curious"

"Well stop being curious, it's just something he and I say"

Then Batman decided to join in "That's Arabic right? When did you learn?" Would it be so wrong if Jason strangled the two of them... yeah might be, nevermind then "During the League. I was sometimes tasked with watching over demon spawn and he... probably doesn't remember it cause he was so young, but he taught me a bit even though I rarely spoke. Something about him being so bored he decided to teach me Arabic..." Jason shook his head, realizing he spoke more than he wanted about how felt on it as the smug face of Tim irked him and he's certain that B might be the same "Ugh that's all and none of you better mention this to golden boy wonder or anyone you got it?" "Can I call you Akhi?" "Hell no Replacment. As sappy as it is, that shit stays between us. If anything, if Damian heard it he might try to kill you" Tim shrugged and scoffed "I mean, wouldn't be the first" "Whatever"

Jason kept watch over Damian as he slept, is this how Bruce or Dick felt? When their family is no longer feeling like themselves anymore and almost break? It's... scary, the way Damian was frantic when approaching Jason, trying to convince Jason and possibly himself that what's happening is real and a threat. Then when he got angry and aimed to kill Bruce and Tim for him... Jason couldn't tell if he felt honored or afraid for him, maybe both. Is the loss of Jason so impactful to such a young boy? Damian is more connected to Dick cause the perfect boy is a ray of sunshine to him. So what was Jason, how much was Jason to Damian that he went to lengths to protect him? Maybe more than Jason ever thought, maybe more than anyone figured. Jason can tell that Damian cares for the whole family even if he rarely admits it. A part of Jason was kinda happy that the first thought was to protect him. Made him feel special, granted if he ever told Damian he would reply with a 'Tt Is your ego in so much need of praise? Get yourself together Todd' but those words would have layers to it, possibly a 'Sorry for acting out like that' and a 'Mention this to anyone and I will stab you'

Honestly speaking, Jason could get used to this, no wonder Dick feels like taking care of everyone 24/7, the rewards of understanding and bonding were worth it.

#damian wayne #damian wayne has feelings and he wont admit it #jason todd #robin #tim drake #batman #bruce wayne #red robin #tw fear toxin #imagining baby dami waddling over and placing a book down as jason stood there and dami just starts speaking in arabic #even if jason never responded dami surely felt happy to be in charge of teaching #maybe in those times jason felt something when damian spoke to teach him

[winterstorm032802]

"Robin, report"

Red Hood looked at his tracker, everyone was off patrolling and Robin was given the okay to pursue Scarecrow "Robin are you alright?"

After a few moments of silence Batman spoke again "Who's closest?" Red Hood sighed and ran his hand through his hair "It's me Bats. I'll get the brat back. Probably still chasing Crane"

Taking out his grapple he swung over rooftop to rooftop keeping an eye on the tracker. "Alright I'm at his location, I'm headed in" "Careful Hood, do you have an antidote on you?" "Yeah I'm all good Batman" Luckily Red Hood had an air filter in his helmet to keep himself safe from Crane.

As Jason walked in, noticing that the air was surpisingly not filled with Fear Toxin, which made Red Hood fear for the brat's wellbeing (which, no. He will not ever admit and don't I repeat DON'T LET GRAYSON KNOW) "Robin where are you?"

Something from above jumped down, Jason moved back in time and saw the glint of the sword that Damian always had. "What the hell brat? I'm trying to see if you're okay" Robin had a gas mask, so why is he going crazy and where is Scarecrow? Robin roared as he ran to Jason once again, sword in hand as he sliced the air and Jason shoved the boy away. Batman would be mad if he hurt Damian. "I'm gonna say this one more time kid, I'm trying to help you!" Robin breathed heavy and rushed to attack once more, his fighting wasn't his usual assassin ways. It was sloppy and all about as he tried to simply get a hit in. Red Hood took out a gun and shot the floor far away from Robin's feet. The boy was startled and dropped his sword, falling down to his knees. "Crap, I didn't shoot you did I? Are you alright Little D?"

"Don't come closer to me!"

Jason inspected his movements, erratic and strained. "Will you stop trying to cut me?"

"I-- AH!" Robin clutched his head and closed his eyes, taking off his domino mask and gas mask. "Stop! Please stop! I'm sorry I didn't mean to please! Leave me alone!" Damian looked up at Jason and the man had to stop himself from rushing over to hold him. Damian was... crying, no sobbing his eyes out. He was scared... did he get hit from Scarecrow? Jason looked past Damian to see Scarecrow knocked out, he had some cuts all around and next to him was a syringe. Damian had fear toxin running through him, in the form of liquid not gas.

Jason was racking his brain over what Damian had once said. It happened when the two were in the library and Jason was reading which led to sometimes engaging in conversation about their books. Jason saw the tired look on Damian and pointed out how tired he has to be and the brat replied with "If the league gave me immunity to most toxins then I'm sure sleep deprivation won't get me unlike how it would for Drake" Funny enough, after a few hours when Jason came back he found Damian asleep on the couch with a book that Jason spoke about before. Ah no not the time to be reminiscing, gotta help Damian since the antidote was for the toxin in gas not liquid, Jason was unsure of whether or not it would help considering Scarecrow always improves his technique if it's in another form. "Hey Little D, I won't hurt you okay? I know you're afraid, but I'm gonna take you home"

"H-Home? I... where?"

Ah the famous complex of Damian being unsure of whether or not he belongs, it always tugged at Jason's heart when he did that.

"At the Manor with Alfred and Bruce"

Damian held back a whine as he tensed up, the toxin was getting to him. He was so violent before, could it be that his immunity made him react differently and the shock caused him to snap to regular reactions? "I... Am I dying again?" Jason froze, that question was so... sincere. He was asking legitimately, no jokes or anything. Damian was unsure of whether or not he was alive? Is... fear so new to him? "You're not dying, you're okay Damian. You have fear toxin and it's messing with your brain. Whatever you're seeing isn't real" "No... but I hear them. Mother speaks to me, Grandfather scolds me and Father... I can not hear father... I wish he could save me from this, I don't want to die again. I didn't get to say everything to everyone, Drake needs to know to take a break and I hope he knows I'm happy he's my brother. Grayson needs to let himself be happy and let others share the burden as well. Todd needs to know he can move on because he has us and even if i don't say it I love my family. I don't want to die again... I don't want to die please don't let me d--" Damian was cut off from a hug from Jason. Jason had took off his helmet and embraced the kid, saving him from his spiral.

Jason clicked onto his line "Batman, I got Robin. He's been hit with fear toxin in the form of liquid I'm unsure of the antidote working. Scarecrow is down and I'm requesting a pick up" "Alright, I'll be there"

.

.

.

The first thing Damian realized was the fact that it was bright and smelled different. He was in darkness before so what happened now? He was about to question it all until he heard voices.

"-all good?"

"-stable"

Damian's head swam as he tried to hear the rest and the boy sat up. He was in his room, on his bed, a heart monitor was beside him and it was moderate. He was alive.

"Damian?"

Todd, Drake and Grayson stood at the doorway to his room and the boy rolled his eyes "Is knocking not a thing now?"

Drake looked exasperated at that "Seems the toxin didn't down your attitude, how great" Regardless of the snide comment, Damian could see the the relief in his eyes. Grayson made it to Damian's bedside "How do you feel?" "I am well" "Good, we managed to get the toxin out of your system, thankfully Jason helped you"

"Todd? So that part wasn't the toxin?" "No, first thing you did was try and stab me. All good though"

Damian clutched his blanket "You... Did I say anything?"

Jason looked surprised then a bit sad then neutral it was very quick so the others couldn't tell. "No not anything I could properly hear" Damian knew though, that face said otherwise. "May I have a moment with Todd?"

Tim and Dick left and closed the door. Leaving Jason who leaned on the doorframe. "What did I say Todd?" "I couldn't hear anything from you kid" "Todd don't play dumb with me, you're face gave it away" Todd sighed, running his hand through his hair. "Fine yeah I heard you say some pretty bad shit, but that doesn't matter. What matters is that you're alive and we're here for you Damian" "You... do not think of me less?" "Damian we're all fucked up somehow, but that doesn't mean we'll look down on you as if you're less than you bring yourself to be. We love you" Damian unhooked the system connected to him and stood up, going to Jason and hugging him. "Are you... willingly hugging me?" "Maybe... if a word goes to Grayson about this I will deny every fact of it" "My lips are sealed" "Thank you... Jason"

#aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh #i did it #robin #red hood #jason todd #damian wayne #scarecrow #tw mentions of death #tw fear toxin #dick grayson #tim drake #bruce wayne #batman #i just want the comfort and angst #robin and red hood being brothers

[battyissues]

dead dove do not eat

TW for SA, au in which i get fear gassed and go absolutely feral

I can feel the second the gas hits my system, breathing in it's sour, almost metallic taste. My heart begins to gallop between my ribs, it wants to escape, to burst through cartilage and viscera. There is no more air in the night, just a void I can only hopelessly attempt to breathe in. My neck feels tight, the ghost of a hand closing around it. I need to claw and rip and tear my skin, get out of it's sudden suffocating closeness.

I dig my nails into my arm, the small crescents lining up with old scars there. I dig in, hoping the pain will ground me, wanting to pull skin from muscle and bone. A flashback consumes my mind, my body refuses to shake it.

I am shoved between the corner of the bed and the wall, my neck bent unnaturally. There is cold air behind me, teasing me when I only wished to be held. Hands frustratingly only focused on holding me down. I can feel his beard against my neck, scratching as it moves. His hands closing around my throat as I cry and try to beg him to stop. No response comes, he is thrusting into my body, tightening his hands around my throat. There is a pain deep in my body, my mind's grief in the moment feels like a scream no one but I can hear.

I am laser focused on reliving this memory. I pray to any god for a fast release of consciousness.

I am only running on primal instinct, forgoing language for hisses and growls. I am dimly aware of people, men, around me. This infuriates me, making me even more feral. Comprehension is beyond me, I only wish to bite and rip. Defend. I can only try to fight off any man that comes near me. I cannot be assaulted again, I will not allow another man to use my body.

Every time a hand or arm comes to close to me I lunge. It does not matter to me that they are trying to help, to me they are only trying to touch, to own. My teeth eventually connect with something warm and soft. I bite down using the entire force of my jaw, ripping and screaming. I refuse to be touched against my will again. My heart is still clawing it's way out of my chest, my neck still feels compressed. I'm begging now for this to end, for something, anything to end this loop of terror.

It is eventually the fast pinch of a needle and the sweet milk of propofol that relieves me. The last thing I remember is the taste of flesh in my mouth, a growl unreleased in my throat. I am thankful to be finally free from the nightmares of my memory.

#TW SA #dead dove do not eat #angst #do i even post this as batman #DC AU #Batman #what do we think fear toxin smells like for real though #the scarecrow #fear toxin #personal #I assumed that a fast acting sedative would be the key here #fanfic #not beta read we die like jason todd

[greenglowinspooks]

(DCxDP) The obligations of a rogue versus those of a parent

—

Tw: vivisection mention (not in detail), bad Fenton parents

Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually

(Pt. 2 here) (Pt. 3 here)

(Masterlist/subscription post)

—

It was a dark, cold, miserable night, and Scarecrow, Jonathan Crane, wanted nothing more than to be home, covered in blankets with the heater set to max as he worked on his most recent strain of fear toxin.

Instead he was at the docks, standing in as backup for the Penguin as he made a deal with some sleaze-bag smugglers. Something about some sort of body armor for his hired help. Crane hadn’t really paid much attention to the Penguin’s words, only caring enough to show up because of the reward.

But honestly, he couldn’t care less about the money at this point.

He was cold, and miserable, and his leg hurt something fierce (he’d had chronic pains ever since being mauled by Killer Croc some time ago), and he was so, so close to a breakthrough with his new toxin, and he really couldn’t stand the Penguin anyways. The only thing keeping him there was his reputation as a rogue.

Just as Crane was deciding that the whole ordeal wasn’t worth it, he heard the sound of a chase a few blocks down. With a deep, heavy sigh, he moved from the wall he had been leaning against, looming in the alleyway as he waited for the potential threat to reveal itself.

A few moments later, a boy came careening into the alleyway, sliding to a stop when he noticed the Scarecrow, his eyes growing impossibly wide. Beneath the mask, Jonathan grinned.

The boy swore, loudly, glancing between Scarecrow and the exit of the alleyway. As the echoing sound of footsteps grew closer, he chose to face the way he came, turning his back to Scarecrow.

What an idiotic way to get killed. Either the boy was a complete and utter fool, or there was something out there worse (to him, at least) than the Scarecrow.

Jonathan Crane tilted his head slowly, considering. He could just cut his losses and leave, Penguin be damned, or he could stay and see what had the boy so spooked.

Eventually, unfortunately enough, his curiosity won out. He shifted, bringing a hand to his side where he kept several canisters of fear toxin.

Crane had to bite back a groan when the boy’s pursuers entered the alleyway.

It was those damned idiots in white suits.

They had been tailing him for weeks now. They were easy enough to fight, but they were annoyingly persistent, and always seemed to have a way to find him. (Not to mention, the Riddler had strong opinions on their outfits, and if he had to hear the white-suit-in-Gotham rant one more time he was going to throttle him.)

Led by the men in white was a woman in a teal hazmat suit. Jonathan had seen her around, too, though less frequently than the others. He had honestly assumed that she was just a new C-tier rogue and avoided her like the plague.

Her eyes went wide as saucers when she saw Jonathan standing a few feet from the boy. No one moved a muscle.

“Danny,” the woman spoke softly. The boy, Danny, flinched, glancing between her and Scarecrow, “come on, we can talk about this. Your father and I only want to help you.”

He was running from his mother?

Scarecrow paused after that revelation, choosing to fully take in the boy’s appearance.

He was lean, almost gaunt, and wearing clothes several sizes too big for him, probably stolen. His entire body shook, from fear and cold both, and he clutched his stomach with one hand. At first, Scarecrow assumed that it was due to being out of breath, but as he looked closer he could see blood staining the dark fabric of the boy’s shirt.

He was injured, underweight, and running from his parents.

Something that felt a lot like rage swelled in Jonathan’s heart.

“Danny, you don’t get it! We’re so close now. We can fix you, and then we can go home, and everything can go back to normal,” she said, smiling in a way that was clearly supposed to be reassuring. She took a few steps forward, the men behind her clearly readying their weapons.

The boy backed away from his mother, inadvertently coming closer to Scarecrow.

He glanced up at Crane again, his blue eyes shining in fear, but not of him.

Sickening. Sickening.

In one fluid motion, Jonathan grabbed the boy by the wrist, pulling him behind him, and threw a large canister of fear gas into the group who had been chasing him.

The liquid in the container turned to gas as soon as it broke open, billowing out and filling half of the alleyway with a thick yellow smog.

The boy gasped, pulling his shirt over his face in a pathetic attempt to filter out the toxin. It would have to do, though, Scarecrow thought, rushing forward to force the boy’s aggressors to breathe in the gas.

The fight that the men put up was pitiful. The few individuals who didn’t breathe in the toxin immediately were clearly unused to fighting hand-to-hand, and dropped like flies in Scarecrow’s wake.

Just as the men began to spasm and shout in their terror, as if on cue, the familiar wail of police sirens reached the Scarecrow’s ears.

He heaved a heavy, irritated sigh, fingers twitching for a cigarette. He was trying to quit as of late, but he felt that after today, he might deserve one.

Though now was not the time to be thinking of cigarettes.

Jonathan approached the boy, mindful of any signs he might run off.

The boy didn’t seem to notice his approach in the slightest, just staring at the woman in the jumpsuit as she writhed on the ground.

Right. That would most likely be traumatic for a child to see, wouldn’t it?

Scarecrow moved in front of the boy, blocking his line of sight. The boy looked up at him now, his face completely blank.

“The police are on their way,” Scarecrow spoke, his voice low. The boy didn’t acknowledge him in any way.

“You don’t want to be here when they arrive, do you?”

After several moments pause, the boy shook his head slowly. He looked numb.

Dissociation, most likely.

“You’ll come with me, then.”

It was a statement, not a question, but he waited for the boy’s response regardless. As soon as he nodded in agreement, Jonathan lifted him up, carrying him out of the cold, miserable alleyway.

Scarecrow paused briefly to warn the Penguin of the incoming officers through the comm he had been given, and then he was off, weaving through the streets and alleyways towards his getaway car.

…

The drive back to his safe house was quiet. The boy didn’t look over at him once, instead opting to stare out ahead of him.

…

Luckily, they were able to make it back without detection. Jonathan ushered the boy into his small apartment, sitting him down on the dingy couch that had come with the lease.

“Wait here, alright?” Jonathan said, the boy nodding once in response.

With that, he retreated into the small kitchen, looking for some sort of warm beverage.

It was nearly three in the morning now, so coffee was out of the question. He was completely out of the hot chocolate he had bought for whenever Eddie or Harley came over for a visit, so that was out too.

He supposed the only option was his chamomile tea. Did teenagers like tea? He supposed it didn’t really matter, the kid was on the run from his parents in the house of a Gotham rogue. Surely he had bigger things to worry about.

Jonathan made the drinks quickly, leaving the kitchen with two mugs in hand. He gave one to the boy, who looked up at him in surprise, before settling into his own seat.

It was an incredibly comfortable old leather armchair that he had gotten some years ago and stubbornly held onto ever since. He usually had one of the rogues he was at least somewhat friendly with pick it up when he entered Arkham.

Whenever Eddie and Harley were over, they would call it his old man chair, and he would tell them to leave.

The two of them sat quietly for a while, drinking their tea slowly. It was clear that the boy was leaving whatever headspace he had slipped into, becoming more alert (and uncomfortable) by the second.

“So,” Crane began, pausing before speaking more quietly when he saw the boy flinch, “you knew them.”

It was not a question.

The boy nodded, curling in on himself. He held the mug close to his chest, no doubt soothed by the warmth.

“They’ve been following me around for some time now,” Crane continued, “and you’re going to tell me why.”

The boy looked up at him, a pained expression written all over his face.

“You won’t believe me,” he murmured, curling up even further.

His clothes were soaked. Jonathan should have put down a towel before letting him sit down.

“Sure I will,” he said, ignoring the blood and water seeping into his furniture.

The landlord would not be happy.

“It’s gonna sound crazy.”

“I’ve been to Arkham.”

The boy paused, before mumbling something quietly.

“Again? I couldn’t hear you.”

“I said,” the boy huffed, quickly changing his tone when he remembered who he was talking to, “they…think you’re a ghost.”

“A ghost,” Crane repeated flatly.

“I told you it was gonna sound crazy!” The boy protested, before wrapping his arms around himself.

“Well,” Jonathan hummed, “it’s not the strangest thing I’ve heard in Gotham. Explain it to me.”

The boy paused, glancing up at his face, no doubt looking for some sign of mockery. He found none.

Then, he opened his mouth, and explained everything he could.

Ghosts, the portal to another world, the GiW, his parents. It was all incredibly far-fetched, but also far too consistent to be made up on the spot, and Crane could tell that the boy genuinely believed what he was saying.

“…but, if you don’t believe me, fine. I know it probably sounds stupid and fake,” he mumbled, looking away.

“I’ll believe you for now,” Crane said. The boy whipped his head up, staring at him in shock.

“If I do trust that what you’re saying is true, though, then why do I show up on their equipment as a ghost? I’m not dead, and never have been.”

“Um,” the boy hummed, looking somewhat nervous. Understandable, really.

“Well, have you by any chance been involved in any lab accidents recently..?”

Jonathan Crane froze, his face dropping. The boy noticed his change in demeanor, flinching slightly.

“Penguin,” he hissed out, his voice slightly inhuman. “Cobblepot, that motherfucker.”

“Wait—calm down! The angrier you get, the easier you’ll show up on the radar!”

Crane glared down at the boy, seething with rage. He once again flinched, looking away from him. With an extraordinary amount of effort, Jonathan slumped back down in his chair, breathing deeply in an effort to calm himself.

When he cracked his eyes back open, the boy was openly staring at him, curiosity written all over his face.

As soon as he noticed Crane looking back at him, he glanced away, straightening in his seat.

“Well, you’ve given me a lot to think about. In the morning, we’re going to discuss this in a lot more detail,” he said, standing up with slow movements. The boy stood as well, hands clasped together.

“For now, though, you’re going to let me take a look at that wound of yours, and then you’re going to take a shower and go to bed.”

The rest of the night went rather quickly.

The boy was rather hesitant to show him his wound, instead assuring him that it had been properly sewn up and that he was fine. Crane was having none of it, though, and gave him a once-over just in case.

It was, very clearly, the kind of cut used during an autopsy. Danny didn’t offer any information, so Crane had to assume that he was either back from the dead, or he had been vivisected. Either was possible in Gotham.

At the very least, Danny hadn’t lied about the stitches, and the wound was already beginning to heal.

With that, Danny showered quickly (he leapt out with a shriek the moment the hot water ran out), and went to bed in borrowed clothes without much complaint.

Thus, Jonathan was left with cold water for his shower, and slept on the still-damp couch so that the boy could have a bed to sleep in. Somehow, he found that he didn’t mind as much as he thought he would.

#dcxdp #dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dc x dp crossover #dc x dp fic #liminal scarecrow #AWWAWAW IM DONE #FINALLY #this was super fun to write btw #edited while I was sick in bed so if the paving’s still bad there’s not much I can do about it HDKFNSJDJF #*pacing

[sanguineterrain]

Sanne I am BEGGING for “This is real. I’m real. Look at me.” with Dick 🥺🤍

SEXY! love this prompt, thank u for requesting 🥰

"this is real. i'm real. look at me." — dick grayson x gn!reader | tw: fear toxin, hallucinations, panicked reader | 500 words

prompt lists are here! i reblog all fics to @sanguinelibrary

****

"How long?"

"I don't know—"

"Well, how much did they inhale?"

"I don't know, Bruce!"

Everything is cloudy, warped. If you turn your head too fast, shadows loom over you. You cover your eyes and whimper, trying to shut out the monsters.

The Joker laughs, distantly, and you cry, thrashing. Someone holds down your shoulders and you cry louder. Your hand connects with skin. Someone grunts.

"Shit. Dick, come here!"

Cool hands rest on your face and pull at your hands. You scream and try to fight. The Joker laughs get closer.

"Don't let him get me," you beg. "Don't—he's here, don't... don't let him..."

"Baby, baby, I'm right here."

Your hands are pried off your face. You catch flashes of red, black, and blue. A familiar blue.

But then you meet milky white eyes, and in the haze of the toxin, the eyes turn sinister. You fight, pushing at the eyes, and another pair of hands holds down your legs.

"Let go, let go!" you scream. "Let go!"

"Tim, is it ready or not?"

"I'm going as fast as I can!"

The milky eyes suddenly disappear, replaced by blue.

"Honey, I'm right here," the blue eyes say, and you feel a hand on your cheek. "You're safe. It's me, it's Dick. Can you hear me?"

"Dick," you say, thrashing again. "Dick, he's here. You have to run, he's gonna—"

"No one's here, baby. You're in the Cave. You're safe, okay? I'm not gonna let anybody get you."

Your eyes scrunch up with tears, and the blue eyes blur. There's a pinch in your arm. You flinch and launch forward.

"I'm scared! I'm scared, don't hurt me—"

"Baby, hey. This is real. I'm real. Look at me."

Fingers brush away the tears under your lashes. The blue eyes come back into focus. They connect to a face.

"He's gonna get you," you say, chest aching with how shallow your breaths are.

Dick cups the back of your head. Behind him, you see Scarecrow himself. You start to wriggle, but Dick holds you tighter.

"I've got you. No one's there, baby. Close your eyes for me, okay, sweetheart? Listen to my voice."

"He-he'll kill you—"

"No one's gonna hurt me or you. I need you to slow your breathing. Come on, honey, slow breaths. Breathe with me."

You bury your face in a warm neck. He breathes and you breathe with him as best as you can, clinging to his suit. You close your eyes and cling hard. Dick rubs your back in circles.

"That's it. Good job. I got you. I'm here. No one's gonna get you."

"It feels so real," you whisper.

"I know, baby, I know. I'm sorry." Dick sounds choked, and he clears his throat. "It'll go away soon."

"Don't leave," you say instantly, hugging him tighter. Your eyes are squeezed shut so hard it almost hurts.

"I'm not going anywhere. I'll be right here the whole time. You still breathing?"

That reminds you to feel his breath and follow them. You thread your fingers through his hair. He smells like home. The gas can create a lot of things, but it can't take away the jasmine detergent Alfred uses, or the spiced cologne Dick dabs behind his ears.

"I'm-I'm breathing," you say.

"Good, you're doing so good. You're safe."

Dick doesn't leave your side for the rest of the night.

#inbox #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson fanfiction #batman fanfiction #batman imagine #fear toxin #blurb

[hxney-lemcn]

Fake Dating — General! Scarecrow, Riddler, Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, Catwoman x gn! reader

summery: an excuse to pretend to date the rogues (some scenarios go better than others)

tw: Harassment, bad intentions (scarecrow), toxic ex

a/n: do some of these count as fake dating? It's more like kissing to throw someone off but same deal ig.

wc: 2.2k

Master List

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Scarecrow

❥Your stupid boss made you stay back late. They didn’t care that it was dangerous at night, and you had to walk home. No, only work came first, safety was barely a thought. You were rightfully pissed, and the thought of quitting briefly fluttered through your mind. 

❥Which led to your current predicament. The streets of Gotham were dark as you walked along the wet pavements. Your paranoia was proved correct when a catcall was heard from behind you. You kept walking, hoping that ignoring them would deter their unwanted advances. You heard two more pairs of footsteps fall in sync with your own. 

❥Your heart started beating faster, eyes frantically looking for a way out. You were on a main street, but the people of Gotham don’t look twice when someone needs help. The men continued to harass you as you walked faster. You didn’t want to lead them to where you live, but nowhere was open this late at night.

❥That’s when you saw him. You didn’t know who he was, but so far he was better than the men behind you. It was a 50/50 chance that he was gonna kill you. So you jogged up to him, a fake smile on your lips as you greeted him, “Hey…love.”

❥When Jonathan had gone out for some fresh air, the last thing he expecting was someone coming up to him and calling him…love. Remind him that perhaps staying in his lab was better than taking a break. Jon stared at you like you had two heads, but the way your breath was rapid, your pupils constricted, and your eyes kept glancing behind you. You were scared, something he found amusing. Eyes trailing behind you, two drunken men leaned against a wall, seemingly waiting for you to be alone again. 

❥Jon wasn’t a good man, he found the fact you ended up looking to the master of fear for help hilarious, but he didn’t let that show on his face. You clearly didn’t know who he was, otherwise you would’ve taken the two drunken idiots. He could’ve had his fun, deny you help and watch as your fear grew. Hell, he could’ve taken you in for his own heinous experiments, but there was something about you that made him reconsider. Perhaps it was the fact you trusted him (at least enough that you weren’t just running away), or maybe it was a tinge of selfishness. He wanted to be the cause of your fear, not some lowlifes.

❥”Hello…dear,” Jon replied back awkwardly. He wasn’t used to helping people, less so treating a stranger like a loved one. You felt your body relax when the stranger complied. Not to mention the fact that he looked intimidating. He was outrageously tall and his expression was grim. The two men groaned loudly, crying out about maybe next time. 

❥For some reason, that rubbed Jon the wrong way. You weren’t his, not in any way, he didn’t even know your name! But for some damned reason, he didn’t like the thought of those two coming back to haunt you. He was supposed to be the one who haunted people's nightmares, not some nobodies. It was a matter of pride. And so he walked over to the two men, hand fiddling with the new fear toxin he had created. It was a dust, that once ingested, it would take immediate effect. He needed some test subjects for it anyway.

❥You felt your blood drain at the sight of your two harassers start screaming as the stranger blew an orange dust at them. No, he was no stranger, he was the notorious Scarecrow, and when he turned back around, he felt utter delight at the fear that shone through your eyes.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Riddler

❥It was hard focusing on the mechanical work when Eddie wouldn’t stop talking. When his fans found out you were his assistant, they blew up, drawing art and speculating about your relationship. You’ve been a part of fandoms before, so you didn’t think much of it. But seeing fanart of you and Eddie kissing did take a bit of a toll on your mental health. 

❥Eddie had a harder time ignoring it, which made it harder for you to ignore it. Whenever he would look himself up, you seemed to pop up with him. It irritated him greatly. I mean he was supposed to be the one getting all the praise and attention, not you. And the fact that they put you on a pedestal right next to him? Were they even really his fans? You were a mere assistant, he could swap you out for anyone! 

❥He’s read multiple fanfics of you two. He would never admit it. He’d also deny how they would make his heart pitter patter like an absolute sap. You bet your ass you walked in on him one time, laying on his stomach, feet kicking in the air as the fanfic he read concluded with the two of you kissing. He totally has an alt account that likes and shares all the stories he really thinks make him shine. 

❥”Maybe if we pretended to date they’d get off our backs,” You offered. It was absolutely ridiculous and you knew it, but you’d do anything to get some work done in peace. Eddie scoffed, looking at you with a slight sneer. Really, how idiotic could you get? Why should he give those morons what they want? Absolutely not.

❥Yeah he caved pretty quickly. There was no other reason than to quench the masses. Nope. Nada. Why would he want to date you? He’s a man of intellect, not emotion. Mhm. Totally. And when he went live one day (obviously he covered his tracks so no one could find his location), and when you kissed his cheek on said live, the masses went crazy. In fact, your little plan had the opposite effect.

❥Eddie ate up all the attention you were bringing him. The revelation blew up on social media (much to Batman’s disarray). This caused Eddie to be even more annoying, and you found yourself completing even less work than before. He’d stop you to show how well someone drew him, he showed you praise, that was meant for you both, but twisted it to be about him only. He was a menace, but he was a charming menace. 

❥The line between reality and fake blurred between you both. Now your role as assistant included showering Eddie with affection, on and off camera. You’d huff and puff about it, putting on a show of how much you didn’t want to kiss his cheek goodbye if you left the hideout, but deep down you loved it. No one was as close to the green clad man as you had become, and you felt a sense of pride that you had managed to overcome those barriers. Maybe you should thank your fans for aggressively shipping the two of you.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Harley Quinn

❥You found yourself dreading friend night. You and your friends would take time out of your busy schedules and catch up. Whether it would be about work, dating life, or any wrong doings you encountered. It was all fun…until they all started dating. Of course you were happy for them, that they were happy with their partners and wanted everyone to meet them. But that made you feel more of an outsider. 

❥You frowned as the group chat bounced with more and more texts. You all were going to hang out tonight, and you were the last one to have a partner to bring with. Harley had noticed that your lovely smile was gone, so she asked about it. When you explained the situation to her she looked dumbfounded. “I’ll just go as your partner then, silly!”

❥That’s how you found yourself nearly sitting in Harley Quinn's lap during karaoke. Some of your friends were off put by the fact that Harley freaking Quinn was there, but the others welcomed her with open arms. She was loud, rambunctious, and never failed to sing loud and proud, even if she didn’t know the song. She also was being overly affectionate…well if she wasn’t already.

❥When she noticed one of your friends and their partner getting lovey dovey, she’d lean over and give you a kiss with a loud ‘mwah’. She held onto you tightly the entire night, boasting about how great you were and she was lucky you picked her. It was nice, but it felt bittersweet. She wasn’t saying that as your lover, she was saying that so your friends bought the story. 

❥As the night finished, you found yourself in a worse place than you started. Bringing Harley made you realize just what you were missing. But Harley was a woman who knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to take it. So as you waved goodbye to all your friends, she wrapped her arms around your waist, leaning her head on your shoulder. “How about we do this for reals?” 

❥Did you really think she’d let the night end there?

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Poison Ivy

❥You glared at your phone. They just wouldn’t leave you alone. You had blocked them from everything, and they still managed to contact you. It was over between the two of you but they couldn’t get the hint. No, it wasn’t even a hint anymore. You were practically screaming into their face that you were over them. 

❥It went too far when they had reached out to you via your address. Even worse, you were having a day in with Pamela Isley, better known as Poison Ivy. Even worse than that? They had sent you a bouquet of red roses. Ivy frowned from where she sat, eyeing the vase with disdain. You yourself felt very similarly. 

❥You didn’t even notice when Ivy walked up to you, taking the card that was imbedded in the dead flowers. Her expression continued to sour as she read the note. “You have quite the taste,” She murmured, tossing the card into the bin. “That taste has changed quite a while ago,” You replied back, unsure what to do with the flowers. 

❥Ivy asked you to explain. So you told her about your previous relationship, how you ended things, and how they seemed to cling to you desperately still. She only let out a small ‘tsk’. She wasn’t jealous, no. She had no reason to be. She had the world at her fingertips. She could also tell when someone was lying, and you were telling the truth. 

❥”Show them you moved on,” Ivy offered, taking a seat on the couch once more. You placed the flowers on a table, you’ll decide what to do with them later. You asked her how you could do that when that’s all you’ve been trying to do. She beckoned you closer, then grabbed your phone. Unlocking it, she pulled you closer into her, causing you to fall onto the couch. Then, she brought your face towards her and pressed your lips together. You felt like your problems vanished in an instant, unaware of the photo Ivy took. Then she pulled away, finding the unwanted admirer of yours quickly and sent the photo. 

❥You watched with slight terror, only for Ivy to shut your phone off. If your ex was truly smart, they’d realize the woman you’re kissing in that photo was Poison Ivy, and that if they didn’t back off she wouldn’t take it lightly. But who knew, they were never the smart type. And you couldn’t help but long for more than just the taste Ivy had given you, your ex a distant memory.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Catwoman

❥Catwoman ran solo, everyone knew that. She worked best on her own. So when she asked you to accompany her on one of her heists, you did a double take. When you had asked her to clarify, she only winked. Oh how you hated how she had you wrapped around her pinky finger, but that’s how she likes them. She also promised a cut, which was more than enough to entice you.

❥She had you on watch guard. Not too bad you suppose. It wasn’t until the jewelry stores’ security alarm went off that you felt yourself double thinking this. You’d never leave Selina behind, but the thought of getting caught made your blood pump faster. You glanced around for witnesses, and only watched as people scuttled away. An alarm blaring was never a good sign, especially in Gotham. 

❥Selina slinked down, civilian attire helping her blend in. You furrowed your eyebrows, not sure how she normally stole, but this seemed out of the ordinary. Selina pulled you away into the alley. Before you could ask her what the plan was, her lips were on yours. You gasped in surprise, sirens starting to ring out. Even scarier was the fact that a dark shadow overpassed you both. 

❥Although, it was hard to think when she held you, when her lips pushed into yours so fervently. But you knew who she really was hiding from this time. Batman passed over, not even giving you both a second thought. Selina pulled away, she sent you a wink before sashaying away. You followed quickly, trying to ignore the way your heart pounded faster.

❥”If you’re really good, you might see more of those in your future,” Selina smirked.

#scarecrow x reader #jonathan crane x reader #riddler x reader #edward nygma x reader #harley quinn x reader #poison ivy x reader #pamela isley x reader #catwoman x reader #selina kyle x reader #edward nashton x reader #dc x reader #scarecrow #jonathan crane #riddler #edward nygma #poison ivy #pamela isley #catwoman #selina kyle #x reader #edward nashton #imagine #headcanon

[jonathan-cranes-mistress-of-fear]

#Jonathan Crane #Scarecrow #The Scarecrow #Fear Toxin #DC #DC Comics #DC Scarecrow #MistressMemes #flashing tw #strobe tw

[stargirlfics]

The Gentleman Chapter Six: Tremble

Alfred Pennyworth x Black Dancer!Reader

Summary: Scarecrow threatens to bring Gotham to its knees while you and those you love find yourself caught in the middle

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, canon typical violence, mentions of chemical weapons, anxiety and hallucinations, mild angst and hurt/comfort, competency kink, alfred being a soft dom, smut: soft spanking tw, body worship, oral (reader receiving)

Word Count: 12.0k

This chapter is finally here and I actually cannot believe the journey it has been from when I started working on this, having months of difficulty writing and then I just write this massive chapter! I’m really happy to be sharing it and I hope it’s well worth the wait. I really appreciate and cherish all your comments and love and patience especially on this series, it means so much 🤎

[series masterlist] [series playlist]

At the mercy of impending catastrophe, an entire city was holding its breath in sick anticipation.

News of Scarecrow and his fear toxin was everywhere one went, anxiety climbing with every hushed discussion and passing day without answers.

His motives were still unclear and everyone was trying to decipher the severity of the message he had left: This is Gotham’s only warning. Fear the Scarecrow.

What was to come next? And would you be ready?

Trust in Gotham’s institutions was few and far between for most, though you did feel a little more hopeful with Mayor Bella Reál’s steady presence in public lately—even still, people were bracing themselves. 

For you that meant dance rehearsals were still being held so stage time was abundant, the exotic performances and the allure of the Iceberg Lounge were quickly becoming a good means of escape for many in the city. 

You wanted to dazzle the audience, satisfied when you could suspend their belief that this was just a dance and convince them nymphs and sirens were real and alive in front of them instead. 

It was easy to throw yourself into the work if you thought about it; counting steps and turns while the band played their hearts out.

There was no other competition, the shimmer and sparkle of the costumes, the lingerie underneath even more dazzling, opal pearls and diamonds adorning your lush bodies caught every single eye.  

Five, six, seven…a spotlight shines down upon you, such a pretty beacon of desire, of the passion flowering so strongly in your own heart until there’s nothing but you and the music.

You left nothing on that stage at the end of the night. 

Especially not when Alfred was in the crowd watching you with an ever growing adoration. 

He made the effort to catch a show when he could, waiting with roses for you afterwards and no compliment or praise spared from your ears if he could help it. 

It was amazing how much things could shift, how nervous you had been the first time you knew he would be watching and now you welcomed it, relished in his promise to show up for you simply because he thought your talent and love for your artform was worth it, that you were worth it. 

And of course how could you forget his handwritten letter with such neat and elegantly written words, the very letter that sat on your nightstand since your date in the bookstore when he presented it to you and made it all official. 

You read over it in the late night hours and in the morning when you woke up wishing he was next to you, until you could recite every word he had written by heart. Weeks ago you would have felt anxious about entering a relationship, not wanting to go through heartbreak if your feelings weren’t the same but now you understood Alfred would never let you stand on unsteady ground. 

He hadn’t since the first moment your paths collided, the memory of it still so vivid you could practically hear the echo of your pounding footsteps on the concrete hurrying to reach him, taking a chance on a stranger and embracing him out of fear only to come away from it with your pulse racing for an entirely different reason instead. 

Something solid and gentle had formed here and you wanted to be cocooned inside of it forever. 

Your friends definitely didn’t hide their excitement that you were “basically dating a member of the Wayne family!” as Roxie had put it. 

She was the first to tell you she wouldn’t mind at all if you slipped Bruce her number. Bambi was already ride or die for the relationship, as was Amber and then Kiera’s encouragement of all things romance on top of it all certainly made this a fanclub if you’d ever seen one. 

Truthfully though their reassurances kept you from letting the tendency to overthink get in the way, making sure you knew that the way Alfred treated you was everything you deserved. 

Grateful felt like too simple a word but it’s perhaps the best word to summarize the way you felt about each of them. Elated in how they celebrated this with you, a sing-song chorus of excitement when you told them about his letter in the chat or how everything went after he spent the night at your place for the first time. 

It kept you hopeful, appreciating everything you had just a little extra.

Fresh snow dusted the windowsills of The Magpie where you were counting down the time until you’d have your evening free to spend with Alfred. 

You would see him in just a few short minutes anyways, with Bruce in tow for a meeting with the mayor and her team but knowing you’d still have some time before you truly got him to yourself left you feeling a little antsy. 

The bar had already been wiped down twice and you just checked on the handful of people sitting around for brunch, most of them talking and finishing off their drinks for the time being. 

So you settled on people-watching, polishing the crystal whiskey glasses while you did, arranging them in a stacked pyramid and you were almost done with the menial task when Bruce Wayne sidled up to the bar.

“Oh, hey! Can I get you anything, Mr. Wayne?” you greeted him with a smile, doing your best not to make it obvious you were also looking to see if Alfred was nearby.

“Please just call me Bruce, you don’t have to keep it so formal, really I insist. And just coffee if you can.” 

“Sorry, habit. I can get you some coffee, any sugar or cream?” you were laughing to yourself a little, forgetting that you didn’t have to address him so properly every time. 

You still did that with Alfred sometimes, a ‘Mr. Pennyworth’ at the tip of your tongue on occasion which always came with a playful scolding. 

“No thanks, I’ll take it as is,” Bruce corrected, thanking you again when you set the steaming mug down in front of him. “Oh, before I forget. He may have told you this already but when time allows it Alfred likes to try and get Dory and I together for a proper Sunday dinner and if you’re able to this coming weekend, I wanted to try and surprise him.”

Oh, how thoughtful! Quickly realizing he was inviting you to join them in this tradition of theirs made your heart swell and you hastened to accept. 

“That sounds so nice! Of course I can be there. Should I bring anything, dessert maybe?” 

“Yes, that would be perfect actually. It’ll be nice to have you there..uh, I know we haven’t had much time to speak but thank you, it’s good to see him happy lately and that’s because of you.” 

Bruce’s usual shy, reserved tone was more open, a little softer and you felt relief knowing that you had his approval in a way, maybe not wanting to admit to yourself that it had been a quiet worry all this time. 

His and Alfred’s relationship was on better working ground now and you didn’t want to complicate that or make it any more difficult for them to connect in the way they needed and it was very clear from the start that they did need each other and cared for one another fiercely. 

This was good, really good. 

��I’m glad and that’s okay by the way there’s been a lot going on you’re probably just as busy as he is, if not more, I figured we’d get to talk at some point. I really do just want to make him happy and I hope you know he is because of you too, he’s so proud of you.”

Your last few words saw the very rare edge of a smile before he took a sip from the mug, face turning stoic again.

Speaking of Alfred, he walked in the very next moment, as effortlessly handsome as usual. His suit was a crisp charcoal gray, a black tie tucked perfectly into that pristine waistcoat you knew felt smooth under your hands, the familiar gold accents of his wristwatch and cane pulling it all together. 

He always looked incredible but god did he have you weak from halfway across the room today, those kind, blue eyes finding you with ease. 

Waving him over to the bar, you started making his usual cup of Earl Grey, sharing a sheepish smile when you greeted each other. 

“Good to see you, darling. I hope you’ve had an easy morning.” The depth and lull of his voice and that accent sent warmth spreading across your cheeks, distracted from hearing the affection in his tone. 

“I have, thank you,” setting his cup of tea down on the bar counter, you leave the milk out for him to pour how he likes, “Hope the meeting goes well, you’re gonna kill it!”

“That’s very nice of you. I imagine it will, what we’re proposing will benefit the city and they seem receptive to Bruce’s ideas, which is all we can ask for.” 

Beaming at him you nodded encouragingly, giving yourself a few more moments to talk with the two men before the mayor arrived and they were whisked off to a more private table. 

Kiera came in not long after that, you were really just working the morning to fill in for her until she could get here but your plans to leave with Alfred right after his meeting lined up with the timing anyways.

An hour passed ever so slowly, the meeting finally finishing with what looked like good spirits from everyone and before long you were saying your goodbye’s to Bruce since he had to head out while Alfred lagged behind to take a phone call from his office. 

Bundled up in your coat, you waited by the hostess stand content to watch the snow flurries begin to fall outside, such a stark contrast to the warm, crimson interior. 

Not sure how long you were lost admiring the view, a warm hand slides across your lower back drawing your attention in a gentle caress you’re sure you’d know anywhere.

“Ready to leave?” Alfred held his hand out for you and kissed your knuckles when you fit your palm against his.

The eager nod of your head and the accompanying excited giggle gave you away but you didn’t care to hide how much you’d been looking forward to this evening with him. 

“Ready.” 

Outside the air was chilly, coats zipped up a little higher while you discussed what the plans were for the rest of the day. 

It was still fairly quiet out on the streets, the business sector in this part of the city always a bit more empty than the bustling traffic of downtown that you were used to, at least before dinner rush anyway. 

Nothing out of the ordinary piqued your attention until Alfred was pausing mid-sentence, asking if you heard what he had heard.

“No, what-” but no sooner than you had opened your mouth, the faintest recognition of what sounded like a scream could be heard. You flicked your eyes up to him in concern. 

Had it really been a scream? Or was the frigid wind playing tricks on you, whistling through the air?

The same sound rang out again somewhere in the distance, only this time you both were able to hear a distinct shout of “HELP!” following it. 

The mood had suddenly turned urgent but it was as if you could only move in slow motion until you realized that at this very moment, the other shoe had indeed dropped. 

Chaos was the only way to describe it, more shouts piercing the air but nothing prepared you for the wave of people running out into the street in every direction. 

You can’t be sure exactly what’s going on or what everyone was running from but the gears were already spinning in your mind and you don’t hesitate to move when Alfred hurriedly nudged you to follow him, clutching onto his jacket as he guided you to cross the street where his car was parked around the corner. 

But you wouldn’t make it more than a few steps off the curb.

The flow of the crowd was too dense, too panicked and you were jostled as you tried to keep your feet steady on slick, snowy pavement.

A gasp was knocked loose from your throat when someone shoved past you, upsetting your balance in the process, the impact forcing you to let go of Alfred’s hand.

Fingers flailed but it was no use, you couldn’t move fast enough and soon more people pushed themselves between you on all sides which meant he couldn’t reach you either. You were quickly losing sight of him, legs feeling like lead as you tried to follow the sound of his voice shouting your name but there’s too much noise to filter out. 

No, no! Where is he? I can’t see him anymore.

Your heart sank realizing you’d lost him in the crowd, even as frantically as you were searching for him there were so many people dashing past as you also tried to keep moving that you knew it would be impossible to find him like this. 

You were separated and on your own. 

Now it felt like your sense of direction was off, not sure if you were still headed in the right direction towards his car anymore, the whole world feeling like it was swallowing you up.

Deep breaths, just take a deep breath. Keep moving. 

You had to repeat it to yourself in order to stay calm, trying to reassure yourself that somehow you could make it out of whatever this was but a pang of worry for Alfred made you feel nauseous. 

Unwelcome thoughts of something happening to him threatened to take root amidst your struggle to think. Hands moving on their own volition, you reached into your bag to fumble for your phone; maybe you could could get a hold of him by calling, sending a text, could find where he was and try and make your way to him in the event you ended up making it to the car and he wasn’t there.  

Seconds later, up ahead of you, a truck swerved to avoid a group of people rushing into the intersection which sent everyone scrambling to move aside, inadvertently knocking you off balance again. 

Stinging pain prickled in the meat of your shins, rattling all the way up to your temple when you collided with the cold concrete, eyes going wide knowing it wasn’t safe to be on the ground like this. 

But it didn’t matter because had you not been knocked to the ground you weren’t sure you would have noticed it: the shiny silver canister nestled in a pile of snow not six feet away. 

Something didn’t feel right about this. It felt like you were being herded to this point.

Under the noise of so many footsteps and all the commotion you heard it click, a slow whistling hiss coming after. The sound grew louder but you were already scrambling backwards trying to put distance between you and the cloudy plume of gas extinguishing from the cylinder. 

This had to be the fear toxin, this had to be him. 

Fresh screams dotted the blood rushing to your brain through your ears, dread forming a hard lump in your throat as you watched the gas diffuse again and mix with the falling snow. 

Loosening your scarf you folded it over your nose and mouth hoping it would buy you some time if you weren’t breathing as much of it in, you couldn’t be sure you hadn’t already. 

Your heart was hammering in your ribs when you finally found your footing and could stand, ignoring the strain in your muscles or how your skin felt raw from where your tights had snagged and torn from crawling on the pavement. 

Now that you were on your feet again your surroundings were more familiar.

It’s how you spotted the mouth of an alleyway to your right, knowing exactly where it would lead, recognizing the rust red fire escape peeking out from the side of the building. You hadn’t realized you traveled back this far but you’d take it, at least you’d be off the street this way. 

The disadvantage of this was that you were working against the flow of bodies but you tried to keep your stance wide and square out your shoulders so you couldn’t be pushed quite as easily, and there was something else…a noticeable difference in how people were acting. 

It wasn’t just panic in their eyes, pupils glazed over and blown wide, this was an erratic look of fright. This toxin was confirmed to cause hallucinations which could only mean there had to be dozen’s on this street alone who’d come in contact with it. 

You could only imagine what awful things they were seeing, your voice ricocheting against the clamor of sounds trying to warn whoever you could. 

Just then, the quickest flash of gold appears in your peripheral and you hear your name again turning in time to see him, Alfred, shouldering his way through the crowd. 

You stared in awe, questioning for a split second if you were starting to see things too but he was really there fighting and pushing his way through the packed street to get to you.

The small relief when he reached you, both of his arms locking around you this time before ushering you the rest of the way. Slipping into the alleyway was easy after that. 

“Are you hurt? Darling, look at me please! Are you hurt?” His voice is chalked with concern, a clipped edge to his tone that echoed against the brick wall you had slumped against to catch your breath. 

He’s already looking you up and down in careful assessment. 

“I’m fine! I’m okay..I think, but wait, Alfred! This was intentional, the gas it-” the words come tumbling out but you fall short at the nod he gave you. Of course he had pieced it together. You’re gulping before noticing his cane is missing. “What about you? I was so worried when we-” the words died in your throat for a second time remembering how you got separated in the crowd. 

You didn’t trust yourself not to cry. 

“Me too, sweet girl but I am alright. I was far more worried about you.” and it’s the tenderness in his voice that makes you sniffle. 

Screaming cuts through the brief moment of rest and you both agree you need to get out of here, deciding to stay off the main streets. If you could cut through a few alleyways you’d be able to get to his car.

His hand is once again steady in yours, thumb passing over your skin trying to soothe you while your own fingers return pressure here and there, beyond relieved to be next to him again even with a million more worries arising. 

The damage had already been done though, time beginning to move slowly, buildings looming high above feeling suffocating, as if maybe you’d never find your way out, every muffled cry or scream from the streets a terrible chorus. 

A loud squeal and the creaking of metal a few feet ahead halted your steps again, Alfred’s arm thrown back to push you behind him. 

Four men filed out of a side door, the hoods of their jackets pulled up so they were shrouded in shadows, both of you just barely avoiding being seen. 

Alfred had hastened to backtrack and slip behind an empty delivery truck in the alley that provided some cover without close inspection but was still too close for any sort of comfort. 

Everything in you went quiet and still, clammy fingers gripping Alfred’s bicep a little tighter, grateful you were wedged between the side of the truck and his body. You don’t want to look their way again but your anxiety rises at the thought of not knowing how far away they were so you risk a peek over his shoulder. 

Your blood goes cold almost instantly, breath sucked from your lungs when a fifth man stepped forth. 

Dead eyes pierced through a ripped burlap hood covering the man’s head, its crooked stitching reminding you of an old scarecrow only the rest of him was clad in a suit. All you felt was dread. 

“Keep your eyes peeled.” a distorted command came from behind the decrepit hood.

There was something terrifying about the way this man moved, it was creepy and sinister, your suspicions confirmed when you spotted more of those silver canisters peeking out from his suit jacket just before he was slinking away, moving out onto the street ahead flanked by those four men, each with a weapon in hand. 

Tentative relief came seeing the distance increase between your position and theirs but you weren’t out of the woods yet by any means with one more street to go.

Counting shallow breaths one by one, you waited until the crunch of their footsteps on the snow faded enough to move ahead safely. 

Alfred squeezed your fingers to get your attention, motioning for you to follow him from out behind the truck carefully. It was best not to stay idle here too long.

In the midst of trying to process what just occurred you didn’t notice Alfred pull out a small blade until you saw it clenched in his left hand, noting the way he kept it tucked in towards his palm so that outwardly no one could see it was there. 

His other hand gripped your arm, keeping you from being able to move from behind his back as you crept forward together, a defensiveness in his movements that made it seem like this was just muscle memory for him. 

Here he was, protecting you, keeping you calm this whole time and though it wasn’t surprising anymore you were still a little struck by just how much he cared for you, your wellbeing. It bled through into every part of him and that had your heart clenching. 

When you finally made it out of the alley fresh worry spiked like ice inside your chest, attention drawn to every direction trying to make sure nothing would catch either of you off guard now that you were no longer under the cover of the city’s alleyways but at last, after what felt like an eternity, you had arrived. 

Unlocking the car and seeing to it that you were safely tucked inside, Alfred was skillfully weaving the sleek vehicle through the streets in no time.  

—

Everything felt like it was turned upside down.

Sirens and police cars whizzed past, headed in the direction you’d just left behind and you could only watch as the weather turned dreary.

Alfred checked in every so often, comforting you with reassuring glances, a soft squeeze to your knee which you returned with a weak smile. You were sure he had noticed you shivering as well and felt appreciative of the warm air circulating through the vents. 

Remembering your phone after a moment you fished it out of your bag, replying to a string of texts from Kiera who was worried sick and thankfully still safe inside where you last saw her. 

Scrolling through the rest of your messages and missed phone calls that kept pinging in your notifications you let each of them know you were safe until it hit you that something was missing, a sudden gasp catching Alfred’s attention.  

“Do-do you think Bruce is okay? He left a few minutes before us. Maybe he managed to miss all that.”

“I’m sure he made it through, but he’s not been answering his phone. We’ll be at the Tower soon and we can check.” 

It sounds hopeful but the crease of worry between his brows makes you wonder. 

Trying to cling to the more hopeful outcome, you attempt to keep bad thoughts at bay with the idea that you’d see that swath of dark hair emerging from the staircase as soon as you step into the foyer. He just had to be there. 

The rest of the drive was fairly quiet but the noise in your head made up for it. 

You couldn’t stop thinking about what you’d seen—Scarecrow. How close you’d gotten to the fear toxin but so luckily managed to avoid it, a sick feeling in your stomach seeing what it did to the people around you. 

Whatever his big plans were for the people of Gotham, you were sure they were horrifying. 

Anxiety drips from your shoulders when the car finally comes to a stop, limbs heavy again as you soar up to the penthouse floors from the parking garage elevator and it’s only when the low hum of the lift stops that you let go of Alfred’s hand, the doors opening to a suspended silence. 

It only took a few minutes and a quick search to see that it was evident Bruce wasn’t here. 

Your stomach was twisted into knots again waiting patiently while Alfred tried his cell phone one more time. Each trilling of the dial tone felt longer than the last and your heart sank once it went to voicemail. 

“If he has his location on, I’m sure I’ll be able to find him.” He takes a deep breath, pacing the floor trying to think, to come up with answers. 

Wringing your hands wasn’t doing much to ease the tension in your body so you forced yourself to lean against the solid wood table of the main room. 

Touching something solid seemed to help and you wanted to be helpful to Alfred right now, at the very least supportive in the effort to find Bruce, hoping anxiety wouldn’t take over everything.

Mentally you were running through a list of possible places near the incident that he could be, fingers flying to your phone to search news updates, find out if Bruce’s name had been mentioned anywhere. 

“Christ, I’ve found him! His phone is at the GCPD building. He can’t have been there for very long yet.” 

“Okay, that’s good. He’s probably okay then if he’s there of all places, right?” your question is tinged with a cautious optimism as is Alfred’s responding agreement but you still feel unsure. 

“I’m going to head there regardless, surely he’s fine but I don’t want to take any chances. I wish he would answer his bloody phone, though.”

He sounded like such a dad in that moment you might have laughed if the circumstances were different. 

“Maybe he’s there with the mayor too, they walked out together before us, it was probably the first place he would think to go especially if they saw something related to what we saw.” you offer a little reassurance and reach out to squeeze his shoulder. 

“Smart girl. I’m sure you are right.” Alfred sighed and closed his eyes for a brief moment.

Fngers pinching the bridge of his nose before he slips his glasses from his breast pocket and puts them on, focused in on what needed to be done once again, typing out a few messages to Bruce in the meantime. 

“I can come with you, just in case he’s in trouble or, or.” you don’t want to go any further with possibilities and you aren’t sure how to articulate your uneasiness at him going back out there on his own even if he could handle himself. 

It upset you to think you wouldn’t be there, wouldn’t know if something else were to happen. 

“Oh my love, I appreciate that. You’ve been so brave through all this and I do want you with me but more importantly I need you safe and staying here will ensure that. I don’t want you in harm's way.” he’s setting down his phone to cup your cheeks, moving in close so his nose brushes yours gently. 

You want to protest but understand that he’s right, the lump in your throat returning as you look at him. 

He was being strong, for you, keeping it together just to make sure you weren’t any more frightened than you needed to be but you could see the stress in his features and knew you needed to be strong for him too. 

“I don’t like it but I understand,” you relented with a whisper, leaning into him a little more, unconsciously trying to hold on. “I’ll stay here but just please be careful okay?” 

Alfred moved back a bit so you’d look him in the eyes, a determination in them that takes away some unsettled nerves. 

“I promise I will be. I’ll keep in touch as well, as soon as I find out anything you’ll get a call.” His soft murmur came in between the gentle press of his lips against your forehead. 

His kisses were effective in calming you even if it didn’t help the reluctance to part from him, you know he has to go and don’t want to delay him any longer. 

A new wave of emotion crests at the way he fusses over you before departing; making sure you were okay to be here alone for a bit, reminding you to eat something soon and that there was a change of clothes still in his room if you wanted to shower and take off your torn tights and snow dampened sweater. 

The anxious shake of your hands was better even as you kissed him goodbye, returning his thoughtfulness by making sure he had a pair of gloves and another cane from his collection in hand before hurrying off, your feet lingering for a moment longer after the elevator doors close behind him. 

Now…the waiting began.  

—

Barely twenty minutes have gone by but you’re restless and there’s a sharp tension in your shoulders all the way down to your hamstrings that won’t ease up even when you try to relax. 

Wayne Tower was quiet and far too empty, the methodic tick of the old grandfather clock in the foyer and your footsteps all the sound she’d bestow.

Sitting still has proved to be impossible so you wander the halls, count the steps each staircase you go up, try to roll out the stiffness in your neck little by little. 

It’s only afternoon but the skies are gray and dark, some heavy kind of shadow cast over every corner that could be touched and there wasn’t a single thing you could do about it but have patience. 

News updates are slow meaning no one knows anything concrete yet, just that nearby hospitals were starting to get an influx of people affected by the fear toxin and police were all over the scene of the incident and surrounding areas. You’re just glad it seemed to be isolated to the few blocks you had navigated around earlier, nothing else occurring elsewhere in the city. 

That certainly didn’t mean these incidents weren’t going to spread, you were fully prepared to hear of more fear toxin attacks in the near future with so much mystery still surrounding Scarecrow.

This whole thing felt deeper than what you could see at the surface but all you could come up with were questions and more questions. 

But there’s no use in giving yourself a headache, not now at least, your phone ringing abruptly and Alfred’s name illuminating the screen. You’re answering before the second ring, taking a deep breath the moment he tells you everything is alright. 

Bruce was indeed at GCPD headquarters when Alfred got there and the pair were in the process of giving statements about what they saw related to the attack so it was looking like they were going to be there for a while yet. 

You don’t get to speak to Alfred for long before you hear him being summoned and you’re wrapping things up, wishing him well before he leaves you with a promise that he’ll update you as things go. 

Your body felt much lighter now that you knew they were safe, the tightness in your chest dissipating as you finally allowed yourself to unwind a little.

Stomach still too tense to try and eat anything yet, you opt to take a shower instead, the change of clothes and the hot steam of the water would do you good. 

Finding the familiar path to Alfred’s bedroom was easy, his space inviting, kept as tidy as ever but you still see all of him in it. 

The faded bookmark sticking out of the novel on his bedside table, his nighttime reading glasses that lay folded on a stack of books to the left, and the tie and cufflinks atop his dresser still there from when he was getting ready this morning you imagined.

You’re comforted knowing you’re surrounded by his things and you’re further softened seeing your clothing items amongst his from when you stayed the night for the first time, everything neatly folded in the way you’ve learned he liked to fold. 

Thoughts of him lingered as you retreated into the warmth of the shower, adrenaline slowly leached from your body, swirling down the drain with the soapy water. 

You didn’t realize how exhausted you were from the last hour and a half until your eyes started to feel heavy but you don’t want to get out just yet. 

It feels safe here and you’re already too far gone indulging in daydreams of your boyfriend, the thrill of being able to call him that now—the same one who practically bouldered his way through a crowd of people to reach you. 

In the moment there hadn’t been time to really think about it but now that you were alone with your thoughts, it’s all you could replay. 

Or maybe it’s all you wanted to think about but either way you wanted to drown in whatever strength and steadfast skill Alfred possessed, heart fluttering thinking of how every movement was intentional, the way his entire body pivoted to shield you, keep you safe as you moved through the streets, the switchblade he so effortlessly and quietly had ready and the expert flourish of his wrist when he pocketed it in the car. 

Yes you knew he had been a soldier, had seen combat and was skilled in more areas than you could count, you could only imagine all the technical and psychological training he had from his days as an intelligence agent and though you took those parts of him seriously, you also couldn’t help but find it all deeply attractive. 

Where words could not be applied, he showed you. 

Refreshed and in more comfortable clothes, your mind felt a little clearer even if having to wait was still difficult but you try and be patient for another update, checking in with your friends in the meantime.

Alfred’s bedroom was warm from the steam still escaping from the connecting bathroom and you felt far too cozy here to venture back downstairs so you climb into the large bed and curl up on his side, comforted by the fact that his pillows smell like him. 

No longer restless from the quiet aura in the air, fatigue rolled in, the energy to worry had faded quickly. Instead you began to drift off, the allure of resting pulling you under so easily. 

Your phone is still clutched in your hand as you oscillate between worlds, thinking of Alfred and that “oh my love” that had left his lips so tenderly, understanding now why your breath caught in your chest after, why you’d been persuaded to listen. 

He refused to let you dismiss your own wellbeing when thinking of others, your importance to him was too great to let you follow him into the unknown even if he’d feel much better having you by his side.

Nothing was going to happen to you if he had anything to do about it. 

You hadn’t ever been shown this much adoration before and so fiercely and consistently at that and you slip into a light slumber thinking that this must be what falling in love felt like. To know perhaps, somewhere etched deep within you that it was exactly that. Love. 

An unending flame, a sewn red string, so viscerally real it had you swearing to nurture it always. Even in sleep you know you’d never dream of stopping.

—

Winter sun had just begun to set when you were woken up by the sharp buzzing of your phone. A text message. 

On the way back now, Bruce is with me. Hope you’re doing alright, I’ll see you soon, lovely   x Alfred

Smiling at the good news you rub the grogginess from your eyes and reply back before tucking your face back into the pillow for a few more minutes. 

Your nap had lasted an hour or so and afternoon was quickly spilling into evening as you blink the last remnants of sleep away and check the time. Anticipation and the rumbling in your tummy finally get you up. 

Taking a few moments to fix where your curls had flattened to your head from laying on your side, you fluffed out the small coils until it looked the way you wanted, padding down the old staircases and into the kitchen soon after. 

You wanted to try and make something quick to eat for when they got back, you were sure if you were hungry they must be too especially after everything that had happened, all the extra energy spent. 

A quick browse through the fridge and pantry had you grabbing ingredients for sandwiches, absentmindedly putting everything together and you’d just stacked the last one on the plate when you heard the elevator chime and you didn't bother to put anything away, rushing out to the foyer right away.

You don’t care that you’re running, feet carrying you forward with their own motivation, you’ve waited long enough and it’s a complete and total relief when Alfred and Bruce step inside.

Alfred saw you first, a grunt that turns into a chuckle resounding through his chest when you all but crash into him, arms wrapped around his shoulders in a hug that he returns immediately, his own arms sliding across your torso to pull you in close. 

Not a second more apart, that is all you wished out of the rest of this day. 

“I’m so happy you guys are back. What’s going on out there?” you compose yourself after a moment.  

“Half the city is shut down right now, people are scared and staying inside judging by how empty the streets are.” Bruce runs a hand through his hair while he explains.

You almost don’t notice that his fingers are smudged in some sort of dark ink or paint, the color reminding you of motor oil, thoughts racing as to what could have happened, what he might have seen. 

“Are you guys doing okay?” you’re asking quietly as you all walk into the main room, hoping you hadn’t pressed too much too soon, just worried by what their faces won’t yield. 

Alfred shrugs off his coat and rubs your shoulders to comfort you. 

“We’re both alright, darling, don’t worry.” He's reassuring you, steady and measured voice calming you enough to where you begin to let yourself focus on how delighted you are to see them. 

Bruce is the first to head to the kitchen when you mention you made sandwiches if anyone was hungry, his thanks echoing down the hall. 

You take a moment then to greet Alfred properly, kissing him soundly, spine tingling when he returned the kiss with a sweet pressure that gave away how much he missed you.

“I’m so sorry it’s been hours, their investigation is a big operation and nearly everyone needed to speak to us. Are you doing alright? I’ve been thinking of you all afternoon." He's looking over your frame again, almost like he can’t help but check for himself one more time

“I’m okay, I promise! Actually doing a lot better now that you’re here. It was hard not to be a nervous wreck for a second there but I took a shower and ended up sleeping for an hour and that really helped.” you’re sighing contently against his shoulder. 

“That’s my girl. I am so proud of you for how you’ve handled all this today, I really am. That’s great!”  

His words were so full of praise and affection it flusters your thoughts and you’re glad he can’t fully see your face lest he notice how much you’re affected, how much that just made you want him, but you reasoned it wasn’t the right time for romantic feelings and desires to take hold yet.

Not when there were still so many questions and things to be talked about, so you stow away those thoughts for the moment, already sure the tension would be palpable when you were able to be alone. 

Maybe it would only be a little longer left till then. 

Eventually the two of you joined Bruce in the kitchen, everyone feeling a little more settled after eating, able to process and debrief about what madness you’d found yourselves in today. 

Surreal didn’t even begin to describe how it felt but it’s all you could manage to say, not quite sure how you were able to make it out of the chaos in the streets unscathed save for a few bruises, it all felt like a bad dream come to life and everyone feared that the worst was still yet to come, that sick feeling in your gut returning with the thought that they were probably right. 

Dusky colors peeked over the horizon as the three of you tuned into the five o’clock evening news hour, wary faces glued to the TV as the first solid pictures of Scarecrow flashed across the screen. Your knees bounced nervously where you were sitting on an old loveseat, the reminder of his hooded face making you shiver. 

An eerie cell phone video showed him moving down a street with his henchmen, people screaming and writhing on the ground from the toxin. 

It seemed like he enjoyed what he had caused, a maniacal glint to his eyes, in the way he moved his face under that hood you swore had to be fused to his skin by the way it looked on him. You had to look away after the third loop of the video, an attempt to keep any nightmares about him later at bay. 

Some information was given about the initial incident that sent everyone running; the toxin had been released inside the vents at the City Hall building near The Magpie, gas canisters later found in the ducts like the ones you’d seen in the commotion, lying in the snow so coincidentally. 

Having confirmation that it had been planned like you thought only produced more confusion with the sudden wish to have been very wrong about what was going on. 

Premeditation like this could only mean this man was cunning and careful, that he’d only been caught on video and surveillance footage because he intended to be seen and that terrified you to realize. 

When you dared to peek at the TV again you immediately had to do a double take, up close photos of the men flanking Scarecrow in the video popping up, showing you what the men you saw in the alley really looked like out of the shadows. 

You wanted to throw up. You knew for sure that you recognized one of them. 

The same man who had been following you when you ran into Alfred that morning you met completely by chance.

It couldn’t be, you didn’t want it to be, as if you could kid yourself into believing you’d forgotten his face no matter how hard you had tried since that day, but it was him and a shudder rolled down your spine at how much of an awful turn this was. 

Your small gasp of surprise caught Bruce’s attention and you noticed his careful gaze shift from the screen to your face in a question, figuring out what you’re stuck on trying to explain before you can get any words out. 

“You know one of them?” there’s something in Bruce’s tone you can’t discern right away. 

“I..yes I recognize him,” your sigh was heavy, followed by the point of your finger when the man’s picture was shown one more time. “Don’t know his name or anything but I do know he works for Oz, I’ve seen him around the Iceberg Lounge pretty recently.” 

You took a deep breath before turning your attention to Alfred who was also listening curiously.

“I should also mention that I found out he was the man who was stalking me the morning we met. Oz sometimes uses his men to intimidate the dancers who get out of line with him and I may or may not have injured his pride the night before. I’m sorry I haven’t told you sooner I just didn’t want to upset you with it.” 

You cringe inwardly, anxiety rushing in all over again now that you’d said it out loud. 

That incident had been something you tried not to give too much thought to, you’d been careful, always were and hadn’t had any more issues with being followed, even got back in Cobblepot’s good graces lately as well but seeing that photo brought it all back. 

“Hey, you have nothing to apologize for, darling. That’s quite alright and more than understandable, I think you know either way I’d always be upset knowing he sent that man to stalk you but I would never be angry with you about that.” Alfred spoke gently. 

You’re relieved he isn’t mad at you even if the guilt that lingered made you worry.

Maybe you’d make a point to bring it up again when you were alone and able to discuss it in the full context of your relationship, you were sure he wouldn’t mind giving you a little extra reassurance about it. 

“Thank you. I don’t know what to make of this but I am a bit shocked Oz would be connected. He’s looking for opportunities to climb up in the crime world, all of us know that and he can be sleazy and he has a reputation for a reason but for him to be part of something like this if he really is involved is extreme.” you chew the inside of your cheek, pondering if your boss had made a deal with the devil in his search for power in Gotham. 

Men like him were all smoke and mirrors with a penchant for easily bruised egos but these revelations had you questioning things. It wasn’t a good thing to know too much in this situation and right now, you were making one too many connections for your liking. 

You would just have to be more vigilant now, especially around him. 

The investigation into today’s fear toxin attack was still ongoing and every news outlet was clamoring for updates and solid information that was nonexistent right now, Bruce finally turning off the TV after a while. 

There would be a press conference tomorrow, maybe the city would know more by then but for now it was no use to any of you to rewatch the events you’d already experienced firsthand today. 

Bruce announced he was going to shower and call it a night and wished you well if he didn’t see you again, adding that you were welcome to stay any time if you didn’t feel safe going home and he was glad you weren’t hurt after everything. 

It brought about a smile to your face again to know he didn’t think any differently of you and made sure you felt welcome.

You were remembering his offer to surprise Alfred with a proper dinner this weekend and though what happened today seemed to put a huge damper on things, you hoped that could still happen. 

Closeness and company was what you all needed right now. 

After helping Alfred tidy up the kitchen a bit he offers to drive you home and your face must have indicated your disappointment because he was quick to explain he had every intention of spending the rest of the night with you, just thought you’d want to be in your own space after such a taxing day. 

He was right, as comfortable as you felt here at Wayne Tower you did miss your apartment and your bed and the familiarity of being in your space but you were also relieved to know that he was still looking forward to making the most out of things this evening. 

Of course he’d never leave you wanting or wishing. 

Trying to hide your eagerness was a challenge, a new kind of adrenaline in your system as you watched Alfred gather some things to take with him because he said he’d be staying the night too which meant you’d get to have him to yourself after all, putting excitement back in your veins after you’d been quietly hoping to be able to wake up next to him in the morning.

When you finally left the Tower, the streets were just as barren and quiet as Bruce had said, it was eerie not seeing any of the usual traffic. 

The only semblance of relief came from seeing that familiar bat signal lit up in the sky, a few hopeful beams cutting through the gloom in the air. 

Nothing was going to be the same moving forward and most of the city had been bracing for this since the first threat. It was only a matter of time but tonight, you wanted to forget for a little while and just take all the comfort and quality time with Alfred that you could. 

He was as protective as ever walking up to your building and doesn’t fully drop his guard until you’re both inside and the door is locked. 

Home at last!

Falling back onto more recent patterns, the space by the door is filled in with Alfred’s shoes, his coat hanging up next to yours, his presence in your apartment making it feel the most complete it’s ever been. 

He insisted that you let him make an evening cup of tea for both of you while you sank into the couch cushions, browsing through movies to watch together before you agree on something comedic and lighthearted. 

Eventually he joined you and somewhere in between laying your head against his shoulder and the middle of the movie, you finished your mug of chamomile tea and Alfred had pulled you into his lap.

And somewhere between then and the end of the movie you fit yourselves together so you could be cuddled against his side, your leg draped over his to make space. 

He’s so solid and warm that you’re helpless to sink into his hold, unable to explain why his arms made you feel so sweetly held, so comforted that the feeling radiated through just the mere mention of his name. 

Maybe it’s why the tears eventually came, when you knew you were completely safe and able to feel all your emotions fully after hours of having to push through.

It didn’t take Alfred long to notice your quiet sniffles though, catching the moment some of those tears spill over in silence. 

“Ohh sweetheart, it’s alright you’re okay. I’m right here, can you tell me what’s on your mind?” His words are soft and patient and spoken so gently you feel more tears come. 

“Today was just a lot…like I keep thinking of when we got separated in the street. I don’t think I’ve ever been as scared as I was at that moment. It’s probably all hitting me now I think,” the waver in your voice could have broken his heart. 

“It was a lot and you’ve done such a good job getting through it, you know that was a brilliant idea to use your scarf as a mask? You have no idea how proud I am of you! But you are right, that was terrifying, I was so worried you were hurt or trampled or worse, can’t imagine how caught off guard and disoriented you must have felt and I am so sorry for that, darling.”

Alfred kissed your temple, fingers careful when he began to wipe away the salty streaks left behind on your cheeks and nose. 

You wiggle yourself a little closer and nod against his shoulder, “You found me though, you made sure I wouldn’t be hurt even if you did almost give me a heart attack thinking I’d never be able to find you again.” 

This time there’s a genuine, shy laugh at the end of your words. 

“I’d always find you, you know that right?” his tone shifted to a slight seriousness, still comforting but there’s a weight to his words that steals your breath. “There isn’t a time, a place or a world in which I wouldn’t come find you, wouldn’t do everything in my power to keep you safe, you mean far too much to me.” 

You cried a bit more when all of that sentiment sank in because you trusted Alfred so much you knew he spoke truthfully, it wasn’t just to ease your emotions he meant every word and in turn, you’d felt every word. 

“I know, I don’t doubt that one bit. I know we talked about this earlier but I do want you to know I didn’t intend to keep that information about Oz sending someone to stalk me a secret from you. I promise I’m going to be a lot more careful around him now too.” 

He wiped away the dampness from your lashes before simply shaking his head at you and leaned in to kiss your forehead.

“That would definitely be wise going forward especially since we don’t know how deep his involvement goes but I also don’t want you worrying about how I feel, sweet girl. That was always yours to tell if and when you felt ready and it meant something greater that you trusted me with that knowledge, that I can be a place of confidence for you.” 

When would he ever stop rendering you speechless?!

You began to think the answer was never and that was just fine honestly, your heart so taken with his patience and diligence to validate your feelings whenever it was needed, no shame or dismissal involved.  

“Sometimes I think I just need a little extra reminding but you’re right I do know I can trust you with anything that’s going on, with anything I’m feeling.”

“Good, that makes me happy. I may have been thinking about putting you over my knee for thinking such silly thoughts that I would be upset, but there’s not a single thing you have to apologize for.” 

Oh.

You forgot how to breathe after hearing that, something lighting up inside you imagining yourself over his knee, accompanying thoughts of being toyed with, spanked, squirming and helpless under the grip of those strong hands of his followed swiftly.

He’d figured it out now, reading the change of your expression for what it was, latent desires rising to the surface.

You untangled yourself from his embrace to sit up for a moment, further distracted when he clasped his hands behind his head, shirt pulling taut over his biceps. 

“Thanks for reassuring me, if I ask again feel free to do that though, think I might actually get it through my head then,” you teased shyly, “I guess I am being silly, you did after all muscle your way through a wall of people to get to me, which by the way was very impressive.” 

He laughed at your compliment, the sound low and gravelly to your ears, pulling you in. 

“Mm used to be a boxer, love. I’m flattered you think so.” 

Oh wow. Again your interest in his skills had been piqued and he must have seen the flicker of an urge to ask further in your eyes because he continued after a second. 

“Well, field medics like to have fun too and it was the army so we were all trained in hand-to-hand combat; boxing kept us in shape and gave the lads something to do, to focus on. I still try to keep up with the training, Bruce and I spar a lot of the time, we have since he was old enough to throw a punch.” Alfred tilted his head at you a little, reminiscence on his features for but a moment. 

A stray image of potentially watching him spar one day landed right in your lap and it was incredibly hard not to involuntarily scoot your leg further up from where it was draped over his thigh. 

He was so damn attractive it wasn’t fair. It made sense, the boxing, connecting why his shoulders were so defined, the tone in the muscles of his back, the power you knew he had behind those thick hands and even thicker thighs.

So sturdy and agile, age and old injuries just a reminder that every move was calculated for a reason. 

“That’s so cool. I bet it’s a good way to let off some steam too,” you rest your chin on the plush pillows of the sofa. Something had begun to shift, a slowly simmering tension working its way between your bodies. 

“Oh I can think of other things that would do that better.” 

The look on his face sends a wave of heat through you, straight to your core. 

“Like putting me over your knee?” 

It slipped from your lips on a whim but he was ready for it and you realized he’d been enticing you this whole time. 

“If that’s what you’d like then of course. Have you ever been spanked before, darling?”

You took a shallow breath, “Maybe once or twice it’s happened in the moment but no, not really, not properly like that. I-I think I’d actually enjoy it, um have you ever spanked anyone before?”

“I have.” 

He unclasped his hands to sit up next to you, eyes never leaving your face, keeping the intensity up, lighting every little flame inside you by the second. He knew exactly what he was doing and you were going to let every spark catch.

“Also impressive and yes, Alfred. I want your hands on me,” you sighed a soft plea. 

“C’mere then, I’ve got you.” He tugs you gently into a kiss and your fingers slide down over his wrists when they moved in to cup your face, touching you the way you wanted, so sure and thorough until he grasps for your hips, hungrier than you’d anticipated. 

He doesn’t waste time, your surprised little squeal making him smile when he moves to stand up and lifts you slightly by your hips, tipping you so you’d fall into him before he was transferring your weight so you were hauled over his shoulders, centered with such ease so that you felt balanced and stable now that you were off the ground. 

Your pulse thuds in your chest as you cling to him, those nervous giggles muffled against his back while he carries you to bed. 

—

The short walk down the hall made you feel jittery in the best way, a nervous excitement bubbling inside you knowing he was experienced with this, that he was going to show you and make it feel so good. You were sure he would. 

It’s almost crazy to be back in your room after all that’s happened today, how tense all the minutes bleeding into hours had been. 

But it could all be pushed to the background for a while, your attention locked into the moment as Alfred sat down on your bed, bringing you with him, your body positioned across his lap so prettily, angled so your legs were spread just slightly with the length of his left thigh keeping you supported. 

You stretched out your upper half on the duvet, propped up on your elbows to look back at him, watching as he pushed your leggings down, throwing them somewhere behind him on the bed before warm hands were caressing up your shins, over your thighs and up to the swell of your ass. 

His palm kneaded your flesh, strong fingers applying a teasing amount of pressure while you squirmed and arched back into his touch. 

“I’ll start slow, is that alright? Nothing too hard, just a few spanks to see what you can tolerate. If you don’t like it or aren’t sure, we don’t have to continue.” His hand moves in soothing circles across your skin and he leans in to press a kiss to your shoulder. 

“Yes, I’m okay with that.” you try and breathe. 

“Good, I want you to say the word red if you need to stop, yellow if you need to slow down and green to continue if I stop to check in. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?” 

There’s a little authority in his voice and it made you squirm again, aroused by his establishment of cues and a safeword right away, how in charge he felt right now, you wanted this so badly it caught you by surprise. You hadn’t expected to be so needy for this.

Remembering that he was waiting for a reply you squeak out a yes and have to bite your lip to keep from gasping when he pulls his hand back and swats the center of your ass, more sound behind the movement than there was force but it still made you jolt forward. 

You groaned at the dull sting that prickled your skin after and glanced at Alfred who was already studying your reaction. 

“Well done, how did that feel?” he cooed praise at you and this time you don’t try to stop the sound you make in response. 

“Felt good, like what I was expecting but also different but I liked it, I want more.” your legs flexed when his hands smooth over your skin one more time, his pleased smirk at your declaration making heat pool in your lower back. 

You wished he would slip off your underwear too, so then he’d be able to see just how soaked you were from all this but you knew you had to be patient and the reward would be everything. 

You do take a second, however, to wiggle out of your sweater, starting to feel warm under the fleece lined fabric, and when you glanced back Alfred was admiring just as you thought he might be. 

No bra, nothing underneath but soft, brown skin for him to feel and just to entice him a little more, you arch your hips, making your ass jiggle, just enough to pull his steely gaze down your backside. 

The next spank is firmer than the first, more heaviness to his hand that made you whimper, your mind feeling a little hazy in the best way, the kind of haze that felt like a release, a soft bed to lay down on and surrender some control because you knew you’d be taken care of. 

Thwap! 

Whimpers and moaned out gasps mark the smack of his palm on each of your asscheeks, only a slight increase in the amount of force so that the sting just bordered on stealing your breath. 

“Christ, you’re so gorgeous like this, baby.”

His accent was deeper, that gruff voice sending tingles rippling across your spine, going down smooth like whiskey and followed by his left hand sliding over your back to rest on your right hip, making sure you couldn’t squirm away. 

He made each spank hurt in the most delightful way, alternating between right and left and then across both cheeks, spreading out the sensation, giving you a feel for which areas were more sensitive, which areas you liked being spanked at. 

“Oh, fuck!” breathy curses left your lips when he kept at it, precise hands giving you just the right amount of impact. 

“Good girl, you are doing so well. I think it’s time we take these off, hm?” he coaxes your hips up slightly so he can hook his fingers under the waistband of your panties and you’re all but begging him to. 

Nevermind if he felt like tearing them in two, you would have let him, but he’s polite in how he strips you despite the way you feel him stirring, hardening beneath where you lay. God, you wanted him so badly. 

“Please touch me, oh please,” you don’t even realize the words are coming from you.

In barely audible little pleas muffled by where your face is flush with the bed but Alfred doesn’t miss anything and he’s grinning in your peripheral. 

“You should see how soaked you are, love. Need my fingers there, is that right?” his fingers were already inching towards where you ached the most, his right hand circling, distracting you from being able to speak while preparing you for another spank. 

“Yes! Please, Alfred, I want it so much!” your whimper leaves both of you aching. 

A tremble in your thighs had spread down to your pointed toes with the way he swirled the pads of his index and middle fingers over the slick mess between your thighs.

Slow and sweet as he slid them over your folds and circled over your clit, waiting and then rewarded with the eventual roll and arch of your hips, his free hand drawing back and then coming down on heated skin. 

You gave a strangled cry, the sound turning into a moan when his fingers continued to circle your clit, responding to the way your body reacted, only taking his eyes off you for a moment when he finally put aside his self control to watch your pretty pussy swallow his thick fingers.

He worked you open gently, remembering how you liked him to move, where those sensitive spots were even at this new angle. 

Giving you something to clench around with his next spank, coaxing you to rock into his touch like he could see you wanted to do, the gorgeous sway of your hips trying to meet the plunge of his fingers, undeniably needy for him.

You knew he could hear it in the way you cried out his name, how sensitive your entire body was now, the broken, pleading edge to the way you praise him in return, telling him how good it felt, how much you’d been needing this. 

The pleasure built higher as did Alfred’s movements, a hiss at the edge of your words at each searing swat of his hands that mixed with the scissoring of his fingers, both working in careful, measured tandem. 

“That’s my girl, come on, that’s it!” he grits out when you push up onto your elbows again and grind your hips back. 

The passion and possession in the way he called you his merged with the curving of his fingers and you both know you’re there, tender walls fluttering as you come, thighs aching, your whole body tingling, trembling with the steady roll of his wrist keeping the pleasure drawn out, filling your entire body. 

You’re not embarrassed by the tears that prick your eyes or the sob in your throat that follow when he finally flips you over, laying you back because you’d begged for him to and who was he to refuse you, an angel.

If you wanted his face between your thighs, eating your dripping pussy until you were too sensitive to take it, that’s exactly what he’d give you and it’s why you weren’t shy, not in this moment, not when you knew he wanted it just as much as you. 

Soft hands disturb the careful style of Alfred’s hair, unable to help it when his tongue licks you and the salt and pepper scruff scratches achingly over your inner thighs, daring you to try and close them.

Not like you’d want to, able to see how his shoulders curved and bulged with the stretch of his shirt as he kept your legs parted with his body. 

This was everything you had wanted, moaning at the way he consumed you so lovingly, a weight in his touch and in his encouraging, filthy words that told you he wasn’t holding back now, you were his girl, he could show you the more true depth of his desire now.

And you were safe to do the same, you craved it actually, always wanting this and you reason you have this entire time, craving this level of care and need, even obsession with each other, so much trust and feelings at the center of it. 

“So good, baby. Just like that, please…” you barely get the words out, lungs losing air from the focus he gave to your words even before you finished speaking. 

His hands didn’t stay idle, the grip of his hands over your body like he wanted to memorize the feel of you, the way you dipped and curved and stretched and it drove you wild, the wet suction of his mouth the only thing your mind could focus on. 

It’s a wonder you can even move when he finally withdraws his mouth from your puffy lips, turning his still hungry and devoted gaze towards your chest, those stiff peaks he’d been neglecting through all this, but no longer. 

You squirmed into the flick of his tongue, the way he kissed your skin and praised and nipped and got his lips on every inch of skin that he could while you just laid back and relaxed, recovered from the orgasm still twitching in the muscles of your arms, your thighs, your tummy. 

“Just look at you. Fuck, I am so lucky,” he rumbles against your collar and you wrap your arms around him, curled against him.

“I feel exactly the same way.”

His soft huff of breath against your neck tickled and you snake your legs around him, hoping to keep him close, just wanting to be in his arms and under his body for as long as you could. 

You’d take forever, and that was all you needed to know.

The Shoreline Lofts

November 27 

12:00 a.m.

The Batman was watching. Unblinking and focused, planted in place but ready for anything that might come. Folding himself into the inky cloak of the midnight hour. 

The Iceberg Lounge was directly beneath the loft space but that wasn’t why Bruce had come tonight.

No, he was far more interested in what Penguin got up to in private, without guests and dancers and clients around, what secrets or clues might be yielded if he just sat and watched, surveilled for a while. 

He was curious why the man you had recognized from the news was connected to Scarecrow and he didn’t believe for a moment that Oz wasn’t keeping tabs on what his men were doing, he had to have known the attack was going to happen. 

Motives were unclear but pieces of this horrid puzzle were starting to come together so Bruce  wouldn’t rest until he could see the grand picture for what it was. 

He tipped the binoculars back up to the blackened edges of his cowl, zeroing in again on where Oz was playing pool, unaware a shadow sat spying through the skylight. 

The building’s layout was already scoped out, every entry point found, tested, and memorized. Now Bruce would wait and watch until Penguin left the loft to slip in and see what he could find. 

Gordon needed intel, something to go on after grasping for dead end’s, there was no time to sit on things, not after what he’d seen today. 

Not after you and Alfred were almost hurt and especially not after he’d seen what the toxin did to people, recognizing the look of anguish in their eyes like his own reflection.

A waking nightmare was no stranger to Bruce so he’d make sure of this, Scarecrow would be made to answer.

A/N: It’s been so long and I have missed writing for Alfred and I’m really surprised and proud of what I wrote here! Went through a lot of emotions trying to get this on the page and there was a lot of self doubt and anxiety and unfairly beating myself up about things not coming together but here we are and I just really love that I pushed through and had fun putting this all together in the end 💕 We stan protective Alfred! Like if that’s not a whole husband right there!

Thanks for giving this a read!

no pressure tags! 💌 @flamingdisputes @saradika @ozarkthedog @tarabyte3 @tarrenterror25 @the-eyes-of-andyserkis @communism-bitches @xnodamsel @glitterjuju @mariahthelioness29 @ayoarticulate @fluffyprettykitty @unrefinedmusings @xoxovivafics @peachyteabuck

#amalia writes #alfred pennyworth x reader #alfred pennyworth x black reader #alfred pennyworth x woc #the batman!alfred pennyworth #alfred pennyworth smut #alfred pennyworth x you #alfred pennyworth fanfiction #alfred pennyworth fanfic #andy serkis

[graveyard-stray]

Stress Relief | Jonathan Crane x Fem!Reader

DRABBLE

Word count: 459

summary: after a long day at the asylum and dealing with the Batman, Jonathan needs some help relaxing once he gets home and you are the only one who can do it.

Includes: sweet sweet fluff. That’s really it. No TW.

After a long and grueling day at Arkham Asylum, Dr. Jonathan Crane stormed through the door of his penthouse apartment, his mind consumed by thoughts of the Batman thwarting his latest experiments with fear toxin.

"Damn that vigilante! Every time I come close to achieving my goals, he swoops in and ruins everything!" He tosses his briefcase on his desk and doesn’t bother hanging up his coat, merely laying it lazily over a chair.

You frown as you see his frustration and hear the anger in his voice. You approach him softly, putting a gentle hand on his arm. “Jonathan, calm down. You can't let him get to you like this."

He pushes away from you, his fists clenched and his breathing heavy, "But he's always one step ahead! It's maddening!"

You walk closer to him again and wrap your arms around his torso, enveloping him in a soft embrace. "I know it's difficult, but you're stronger than this. Remember why you do what you do."

Crane lets out a heavy sigh, "You're right... I can't let him control me like this."

You pull away with a smile and lead him to the living room so he can get comfortable. “Sit down, I'll make you some tea." You insist.

As you bustled about the kitchen, Crane sank onto the couch, the tension in his muscles slowly ebbing away in your presence. Despite his facade of toughness, being with you always made him feel vulnerable in the most comforting way.

You soon returned with a steaming cup of tea and settled beside him, your calming aura enveloping him like a warm embrace.

The warm mug you held in your hand was placed on the table infront of Johnathan "Here, drink this. It'll help you relax."

He took a sip of the wake liquid and felt it slithering down his throat and calming his body. "Thank you, my love, don't know what I'd do without you."

You just smile softly at him "You don't have to do anything alone, Jonathan. I'm here for you, always." You say before placing a sweet peck on his cheek.

As you sat together in silence, the weight of the day slowly lifted from his shoulders, replaced by a sense of peace that only you could provide.

After he finished his tea you cuddled up against him, wrapping your arms around his midsection and hurting your face in his chest. Johnathan smiled softly, In your arms, he always found solace from the chaos of his world, a sanctuary where he could be vulnerable without fear of judgment.

And as he leaned into you embrace, jeknew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, as long as he had you by his side, he could weather any storm.

#jonathan crane x reader #johnathan crane #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy #cillian x fem!reader #Cillian #Batman #batman villains #batman begins #dc heroes #dc universe

[batstorm93672]

Robin woke up, it was gloomy and dark everywhere. The smell of gas in the air was apparent, looking to see Red Hood with only his mask on his face. Robin looked through his tools, he had a breathalyzer only one, what of Hood?

Robin pat him down and felt nothing of use.

Robin slapped Red Hood in the face "HEY!"

"Huh?! What the hell Demon?"

The hissing of gas reached their ears and Red Hood sat up with fear in his eyes, he always had a rough time with it. As the green gas slowly drifted to their direction, Robin leaped at Red Hood and he struggled against him.

"Robin! What the hell are you affected-"

"Sorry Hood"

Robin took out the breathalyzer and stuck it on Red Hood's face, the click showing that it's on and Robin moved back as Red Hood looked at him in horror. "Why did you do that?! You have another one right?" Robin chuckled "Sorry Akhi"

Then Robin felt the toxin in his lungs. "Had to... protect you"

.

.

.

Nightwing dropped down, he already tied up Scarecrow and Orphan was dealing with him.

He kept his breathalyzer on and walked in, hearing who he arrived for.

Jason and Damian

Opening the door, Jason was hurt and had some bruises and cuts, he had a breathalyzer and he was cradling Damian.

Jason kept mumbling to Damian as Damian had tears rolling down his face as he looked devoid of all emotions. Nightwing came closer and Jason looked over "Dick... h-he gave me his and... he let himself get intoxicated instead" "Okay, are you alright? Did he hurt you too much?" "No, no I managed to stop him long enough" "Come on then, let's go home"

.

"Had to... protect you" "Robin..?" Jason stood up.

Robin went still for a few seconds then slipped his dagger out and grabbed Jason by the arm. Almost plunging it through his hand, Jason twisted Robin's hand so he dropped it. Robin kicked Jason from below his chin and grabbed his dagger again this time he slashed Jason in the leg. Jason kicked Robin in the stomach and sent him tumbling back.

Robin flipped back to catch himself and he raised his fists. As Robin punched Jason in the gut, Jason grabbed ahold of him from the arm and flipped him over his shoulder. Robin's back hit the floor and Jason caught him by the tunic to make sure he didn't hit his head. Then Robin cried... Jason was distraught seeing him, Robin went slack and Jason picked him up. Sitting down as he held Robin, taking off his mask so he could wipe his tears. Damian kept crying without a sound coming from him, Jason mumbled over and over affirmations of safety.

~

Don't stop moving, keep fighting, keep doing what is needed. Holding a tighter grip on the dagger he took the assassin by surprise to aim for his dominant hand. The assailant quickly twisted his hand and Damian kicked him below the chin grabbing the dagger that fell on the floor and using it to slash his leg. The blood blooming as the assassin kicked him away. Damian flipped and raised his fists, quickly punching the assassin in the gut. The assassin grabbed Damian and threw him over his shoulder, hitting the ground roughly the assassin grabbed the dagger that Damian wielded and stabbed him. Damian's vision was blurring and Damian had tears running down his face.

He failed, the assassin had won. He would be revived by the Pit and told to do better... he failed what they expected of him.

The Lazarus Pit will bring him back and with every revival the voices would grow louder.

~

Damian sat up, if he showed any weakness and sign of letting that death get to him then his punishment will be worse.

"Damian"

"I've failed you grandfather, forgive me. I am ready for my punishment" It was always like that, if he said anything else then Ra Al Ghul would take it as disrespect. If he doesn't play the role then the punishment may be close to death once more.

"Damian, it's Jason"

"I am ready for my punishment"

"Damian..."

"..."

"Habibi, it's Akhi. Can you look at me?"

Damian did as told, not the frown or disappointed face of grandfather. No this is... worry and comfort. Black hair with a few white stripes. The Pit caused that, he's seen it before.

"Todd"

"Yeah, you had fear toxin in you. Nightwing found us and took us back. How are you?"

"Adequate"

"Good to hear now-" Jason stood up looking mad "-what the hell were you thinking doing that?!"

"Hm?"

"The whole giving me your only breathalyzer to protect me?!"

"Your fears are haunting, no one should be forced to experience it again" Jason relaxed more and sat back down "Well I heard you talking as if you spoke to Ra just now, how bad?" "I don't want to speak of it" "Okay... yeah I get that. I'll see you later?" Damian nodded.

Jason ruffled Damian's hair and left, closing the door hearing out for what he assumed would happen.

Then it came, Damian crying. Jason knew if he entered the room now, then Damian would clam up and be embarrassed.

"Too loud, too many of you. Stop shouting at me. It was necessary to protect him... so stop... please stop"

#damian wayne #damian wayne has feelings and he wont admit it #jason todd #robin #red hood #dick grayson #nightwing #cassandra cain #orphan #tw fear toxin #tw death mention

[sweetlikehoneystingslikeabee]

hi :) can i request a love letter from scarecrow to the reader that he sends while he's in arkham?

"Cardiac Muscles" Scarecrow x Reader (Valentine's Day Event 2024)

Love getting to do stuff with the old man! It's surprising to me because I'm so fond of him, but people don't request him often. He is a rather prickly bastard, though, so I shouldn't be too shocked. This is for the (now over) Valentine's Day Event.

TW: Talks of death, corpses

The paper is worn slightly as you take it from the envelope. At the top is an approval stamp by upper management of Arkham Asylum. Jonathan had told you once that after an incident with a patient, all letters were to be checked and approved before sending to ensure there were no acts of collusion. At least they had the decency to stamp it above his writing. The script is a loose and harder to read cursive. Thankfully, you've read it many times before.

Dearest one,

I have once again regained privileges to have pen and paper allowed in my cell. That minor disagreement with another patient turned out to be a figment in his mind after all. Being surrounded by madness ensures things are never boring. I would have waited for my weekly phone call to tell you these things, however I was excited to send you a letter.

It's old-fashioned, I'm aware. Despite my fondness for the intangible factors of the world, I cannot deny the effects of a well-written love letter. Truly, I wish I could have celebrated the holiday with you, no matter how insipid and commercial I find it to be. If only to show you the depths of my affections. How I do love you in ways a mere mortal man cannot speak to.

Alas, all I can give you is the rest of my life. It isn't much. Yet it seems to make you happy which is all I could ask for. I'm not certain of an after, yet I would give you that for eternity as well if it would please you. I'd crawl out from the ground you buried me in for that.

I wish my fear toxin could allow me within the cracks and crevices within your mind so that I could reside there within that soothing place. To know you under the skin and into your bone marrow as no one else ever could. I'd allow you in my bloodstream if I could. All the intricacies of my arteries and pathways...

That's what love is, isn't it? To feel someone deep into the musculature of the cardiac muscle. I'm smiling even as I write this, believe it or not.

I love you. Never forget that.

Jonathan

#Jonathan crane #jonathan crane x reader #scarecrow x reader #scarecrow dc #scarecrow #foxwriting #foxy valentines event