#reader is batgirl

[butterfly-lies-chase-them-away]

Behind the Mask - Jonathan Crane x Fem!Reader Part 1/2

Pairing: Jonathan Crane x Fem!Reader Scarecrow x Batgirl!Reader

(Part 2) Word Count: 15079

Warnings: Enemies to Lovers, fear toxin, Scarecrow x Batgirl

Summary: (REQUEST) While chasing down the Scarecrow in Gotham, Y/n forms an unexpected bond with the mysterious figure. As their relationship deepens, Y/n finds herself navigating the blurred boundaries between friend and foe.

A/N: I got a request for Scarecrow x Batgirl!reader with enemies to lovers and I fucking JUMPED at this one, I did not mean to write this much, holy shit. I didn't really have a plan going into this one, so when I started writing, I was going from top to bottom, so whatever happened happened and I clearly went OFF! While writing this, I kinda had comic-book!Scarecrow in my brain for reasons I couldn't explain, but ya know... it's the same dude so yeah. I really hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it 💚

-

"I'll need you to be on watch in the Narrows tonight," Bruce instructed Y/n as he fastened his suit, his tone carrying the weight of his responsibilities.

"Any you want me to keep an eye one in particular?" Y/n asked, adjusting her own suit in preparation.

"Many, but the Scarecrow’s been more active recently, I want you to look out for him, I have the Joker to deal with." Bruce replied, his gaze distant as he mentally prepared for the night's challenges.

It had been a a few months since Y/n first became the Batgirl. Y/n often found herself in the wrong place at the wrong time, or perhaps it was the right place at the right time, depending on how one looked at it. As a bystander in Gotham City, she frequently stumbled upon scenes of crime and chaos, unwittingly becoming entangled in the city's never-ending struggle for order.

On one occasion, while walking home from work, Y/n witnessed a mugging in progress. Without hesitation, she sprang into action, using her self-defense skills to fend off the assailant and protect the victim. Little did she know, Batman had been monitoring the situation from the shadows, impressed by her bravery and resourcefulness.

This became a regular occurrence for Y/n after that, seeking out injustice in the city and protecting those in need. With each encounter, Y/n found herself drawn further into Batman's world, her actions catching his attention time and time again, forging an unexpected bond between herself and the Dark Knight.

Under Batman's guidance, Y/n evolved from a mere bystander into Batgirl, a symbol of hope and strength for the citizens of Gotham. With her skills and determination, she stood shoulder to shoulder with the Caped Crusader, ready to confront the darkness that threatened to consume their city.

The two of them went their separate ways, Y/n finding herself in the Narrows, poached on a building. And as if on cue, she heard screams coming from an alley. Immediately jumping into action, Y/n dropped down and rushed to the scene, and just as she expect, the man with a burlap mask stood over a helpless person, screaming and scratching on the floor.

"Refining your toxins, Scarecrow?" Y/n's voice echoed down the dimly lit alley, drawing his attention like a moth to a flame.

"Alone in the shadows, Batgirl?" Scarecrow's distorted voice floated back, his eerie presence sending shivers down Y/n's spine.

Without hesitation, Y/n surged forward, her determination driving her towards the looming figure of Scarecrow. Scarecrow's agility was surprising, a testament to his cunning and prowess.

Despite his speed, Y/n's athletic skills allowed her to gain ground. With a swift motion, she held out a Batarang, sending it spinning towards Scarecrow's feet. The makeshift trap worked like a charm, causing him to stumble and crash to the ground.

"Lost your footing?" Y/n taunted, her voice laced with determination.

"Lost your vision?" Scarecrow retorted, his words accompanied by a sudden burst of suspicious powder that engulfed Y/n's senses.

Coughing and disoriented, she struggled to maintain her balance as her surroundings blurred into a hazy fog.

In the midst of the chaos, Scarecrow seized the opportunity to strike, delivering a well-aimed kick that sent Y/n tumbling to the ground. With a pained groan, she collided with the unforgiving pavement, the impact jarring her senses and rattling her confidence.

As Scarecrow's footsteps faded into the distance, leaving behind only the distant echoes of the Narrows, Y/n cursed her carelessness. Still reeling from the encounter, she struggled to regain her bearings, her vision still clouded and her body aching from the fall. 

"This better not be permanent," Y/n muttered under her breath, frustration evident in her voice as she struggled to regain her footing amidst the haze of her blurry vision.

With the aid of the wall for support, Y/n navigated her way out of the Narrows, determination guiding her steps despite her impaired sight. Fumbling for her walkie-talkie, she summoned Batman, her admission tinged with a hint of embarrassment.

"Hey, uh... Could you bring the Batmobile? I can't see," Y/n confessed, her tone a clear indication of her frustration.

"On my way," Batman's reassuring voice crackled through the device.

As she waited at the end of the alleyway, the familiar roar of the Batmobile's engine signaled Batman's arrival. He lifted the roof of the vehicle, his presence a comforting presence in the midst of Y/n's uncertainty.

"You getting in?" Batman's usual impatience brought a hint of levity to the situation, his words a welcome distraction from Y/n's predicament.

"Yeah, could you help me? I can't see properly," Y/n admitted, her voice tinged with embarrassment. "It's all just a black blob."

Without hesitation, Batman leaped out of the car, his strong hand reaching out to guide Y/n safely into the vehicle. As they embarked on their journey through the city's shadowy streets, Y/n couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the steadfast ally by her side.

"Rough night?" Batman's gravelly voice broke the silence, cutting through the tension that hung in the air.

"You could say that," Y/n replied, her tone heavy with disappointment as she settled into the seat beside him. "Will my vision be like this permanently?" Y/n asked, the question bugging her for the last 10 minutes.

"Hard to tell with the Scarecrow, but you should be okay. It's a surprise he didn't use his fear toxin on you," Batman remarked, his voice betraying a hint of concern.

Y/n let out a sigh of resignation, her shoulders slumping as she leaned back against the seat. In the darkness of the Batmobile, surrounded by the faint hum of the engine and the steady rhythm of the city outside, she couldn't help but feel a sense of vulnerability. But even in her moment of uncertainty, she found solace in the presence of the silent guardian beside her, a reminder that she was never truly alone in the shadows of Gotham.

-

Fortunately for Y/n, her vision returned within an hour, relieving her of the temporary blindness. Despite Bruce's insistence that she call it a night and rest up, Y/n's determination to uncover more about their adversary remained unyielding. In the depths of the Batcave, she was immersed in her research, combing through databases and news articles in search of a lead.

"Thought you'd be down here, Master Bruce holding you back?" Alfred's familiar voice echoed through the cavernous space as he descended into the Batcave.

"No, I was supposed to head home an hour ago," Y/n admitted, her attention still fixed on the glowing screen before her.

"Well, shall I fetch you some supper then?" Alfred offered, ever the attentive caretaker.

"It's alright, Alfred. Thank you," Y/n replied, offering a grateful smile in his direction.

As Alfred approached, he cast a glance at the screen, taking note of Y/n's diligent research and the meticulous notes scattered around her workspace.

"My, you've certainly done quite the thorough job. It's no wonder you landed that internship," Alfred remarked, his tone filled with pride.

"You and I both know I only got that internship at Arkham because of Bruce's influence," Y/n laughed.

"You ought to give yourself more credit, Miss L/n," Alfred's voice held a gentle admonishment as he glanced over Y/n's work. "When is your first day, anyway?"

Glancing at the clock, Y/n realized it was already 1 AM. "Tomorrow," she answered.

"I beg of you to go home, Miss L/n. Your sleep schedule is bad enough as it is," Alfred urged, concern etched in his voice.

Y/n let out a weary sigh. "I guess I'll have to leave the Scarecrow for another time."

Y/n and Alfred made their way back up to Wayne Manor, Y/n gathering her belongings in preparation to depart. Despite her reluctance to leave her research behind, she knew that rest was necessary if she wanted to be at her best for the challenges that lay ahead. With one last glance at the Batcomputer, Y/n bid farewell to the Batcave, her mind already turning towards the mysteries that awaited her on her first day at Arkham.

-

Y/n's first day at Arkham Asylum began with a mix of anticipation and nervous energy. The towering, foreboding structure of the institution loomed against the gray skies of Gotham, its reputation preceding it.

Working at Arkham Asylum had always been a dream for Y/n, fueled by a deep fascination with the psychology of criminals. And there was no better place than Arkham. She was aware that Bruce had played a pivotal role in securing this internship for her, primarily to make it easier to access the criminals and their files. Yet, this knowledge did little to dampen her enthusiasm. In fact, she saw it as practical to use her role for the greater good, combining her academic interests with her goal to protect Gotham.

As she stepped through the heavy, security-laden doors, she was greeted by Dr. Penelope Young, one of Arkham's leading psychiatrists and her supervisor for the duration of the internship.

"Welcome to Arkham Asylum, Miss L/n. I'm Dr. Young. I'll be showing you around today and discussing what you can expect during your time here," Dr. Young said, offering a firm handshake that Y/n returned.

Their tour began in the more benign corridors of the asylum, where Dr. Young outlined the history of Arkham, its purpose, and its challenges. She spoke with a passion that contrasted the grim surroundings, her belief in rehabilitation and understanding of the human psyche evident in her every word.

"As you'll soon learn, Arkham is more than just a holding facility for Gotham's criminally insane. It's a place of complexity, where psychology and security intersect in ways you won't see anywhere else," Dr. Young explained as they navigated through secure checkpoints.

The tour included visits to various departments, including the high-security wards where Gotham's most notorious villains were held. Dr. Young's explanations were thorough, covering the protocols for dealing with dangerous inmates, the importance of mental health assessments, and the ongoing research aimed at better understanding and treating profound psychological disorders.

"Your role here, Miss L/n, will involve assisting with patient assessments, participating in therapy sessions, and contributing to our research projects. It's crucial work that not only helps us understand the minds of those we're treating but also aids in ensuring the safety of Gotham City," Dr. Young said, her tone serious yet encouraging.

As they concluded the tour in the library, filled with texts on psychology, criminology, and the history of Arkham itself, Dr. Young offered some final advice.

"Always remember, the work we do here is challenging and often thankless. But it's also incredibly important. You're going to see and experience things that will test you, but I believe you have the potential to make a real difference."

Y/n left the tour feeling a mixture of awe and trepidation. The weight of her responsibilities at Arkham Asylum was now fully realized, but so too was her determination to meet the challenges head-on. As she prepared for her first assignment, she couldn't help but feel that her journey into the heart of Gotham's darkness was only just beginning.

-

Patrolling the rooftops alongside Batman had become a familiar part of Y/n's night life, yet that particular night, her performance was far from her usual standard. Missteps, a lack of balance, and a series of other minor blunders affected her efforts. Aware of Bruce's patience, she nonetheless couldn't shake off the feeling that she was more of a liability than an asset to Batman during their late-night surveillance.

"Fuck, sorry," Y/n muttered, hastily picking herself up after her foot caught on an uneven crack on a rooftop in the Narrows.

Batman halted his advance, turning to face her with a concern that seemed to pierce through the shadows of his cowl. "You should head home, you need rest," he suggested.

Y/n's gaze dropped, a wave of embarrassment washing over her. She knew he was right, yet admitting it felt like conceding to a weakness she couldn't afford.

"You're exhausted. It's been a long day," Batman tried to reassure her, recognizing the toll the day's events had taken on her.

"I know, but I feel like I need to be here," Y/n insisted, her voice a mix of determination and frustration.

"Is this about the Scarecrow again?" Batman's question cut through the tension, his insight honing in on the heart of her persistence.

"...Yeah," Y/n admitted, a mix of resolve and vulnerability in her voice.

Her obsession with stopping Scarecrow had pushed her to her limits, yet she felt an unyielding need to confront the fear he spread across Gotham. In that moment, beneath the expanse of the night sky, her dedication to their cause was as clear as the weariness she fought against.

The Scarecrow was Y/n's first real challenge with one of Gotham's notorious Rogue's. Until now, her experiences had primarily involved run-ins with lesser-known criminals. Unmasking the Scarecrow, whose identity remained a mystery to all of Gotham, would be a monumental achievement for her.

"Why don't you hang back a bit? You can stay on the scene, but I'd rather you not engage in anything major," Batman suggested, his voice carrying a note of protective caution.

Y/n nodded in agreement. She decided to approach the situation with caution, opting for observation over direct confrontation. From her vantage point on a nearby rooftop, she kept a vigilant eye on the Narrows, tracking Batman's movements as he patrolled the shadowy labyrinth below. That's when she spotted him.

Quickly, she grabbed her radio to alert Batman. "Scarecrow spotted near the north apartments!" she reported, urgency lacing her voice.

As Batman sprang into action, heading towards the reported location, Y/n felt a surge of determination. She knew she couldn't just stand by. Moving with purpose, she leaped across rooftops, her movements a blend of precision and grace, as she closed in on the two. Her heart raced with a mix of excitement and fear, fully aware of the dangers that lay ahead yet driven by a deep-seated resolve to make a difference.

His pursuit was relentless, a testament to years of honing his skills for moments just like this. The Scarecrow, a master of terror and manipulation, darted ahead, his movements erratic and desperate, aware that the Dark Knight was closing in on him.

The Scarecrow, realizing the inevitability of his capture, turned to face Batman, a sinister smile playing across his lips, hidden beneath the grotesque mask that had become his signature.

In a swift movement, Scarecrow pulled from his tattered coat a small canister, unleashing a cloud of his fear toxin directly at Batman. The gas, a potent concoction of Scarecrow's own design, filled the air, a visible miasma of terror.

Batman, caught off-guard by the sudden assault, attempted to evade the cloud but inhaled a breath of the toxic fumes. The world around him twisted horrifyingly, his vision blurring as the gas took hold, plunging him into a nightmarish landscape of his own fears. Towering figures of his past adversaries loomed over him, their taunts echoing in his ears, while the loss of his parents replayed in agonizing detail, a never-ending cycle of pain and guilt.

Y/n's heart skipped a beat at the sight of Batman collapsing, overcome by the Scarecrow's fear toxin. Without hesitation, she reached out to Alfred through her radio.

"It's urgent. Batman's been incapacitated by Scarecrow's fear gas. You need to get him immediately," she relayed with urgency.

Without waiting for Alfred's confirmation, she sprung into action, her body moving almost on instinct. She descended from her vantage point into the alleyway below, her cape billowing behind her as she set her sights on the retreating figure of the Scarecrow.

"You just can't let it go, can you?" Scarecrow taunted, turning to hurl a canister of his sinister concoction in her direction.

The moment the toxin enveloped her, Y/n's reality twisted into a nightmarish tableau. She fell to the ground, a scream tearing from her lips as the shadows around her seemed to swell with judgment and scorn. But this was different, alongside the overwhelming fear, a heavy drowsiness dragged at her consciousness.

This was no ordinary fear toxin, she realized with a struggle to maintain her awareness. Her breaths came in labored gasps, each one a battle against the encroaching darkness. Her strength ebbed away, leaving her helpless on the cold, unforgiving ground of the alley. Her vision blurred, yet she could make out the Scarecrow's figure looming over her, his mask a grotesque visage that pulsated in her dimming sight.

As her field of view narrowed to a point, she saw Scarecrow bend down beside her, his hands reaching out to grasp her. Then, as if a curtain had fallen over her world, everything succumbed to darkness.

-

The throbbing in her head was the first sensation that pierced through the fog of unconsciousness, a relentless pounding that seemed to echo through her entire being. Gritting her teeth in discomfort, Y/n reached up, her fingers pressing into her temples in a futile attempt to sooth the pain. With her eyes still firmly shut, she sat up from the surface beneath her.

As she became more aware, her palm registered the unmistakable chill of metal against her skin. Hesitantly, she allowed her eyelids to part, squinting against the dim light that filled her unfamiliar surroundings. This place, cold, sterile, and decidedly unwelcoming, was far from the familiar confines of her home or the Batcave. Panic fluttered in her chest as the realization set in.

She found herself lying on a stark, metallic table, the centerpiece of what appeared to be a neglected laboratory. The air was thick with the scent of chemicals and decay, a testament to the room's dubious purposes. With a growing sense of dread, Y/n ran a hand through her hair, her movements halting as another alarming detail dawned on her, her mask was missing.

She took a sharp intake of breath as she frantically searched her surroundings, her heart racing. Though still clad in the protective gear of Batgirl, minus her utility belt, the absence of her mask left her exposed, vulnerable. 

The sound of the door creaking open sent a jolt of adrenaline through her. She became tense, preparing for who might come through that door, her mind racing through possibilities and plans of escape.

As the door swung open, the Scarecrow stepped through, his presence immediately filling the room with a palpable sense of dread. His iconic, scratchy burlap mask seemed to leer at her, the tattered edges of his suit fluttering slightly with his movements. Y/n's heart sank, deep down, she'd known he would be her captor.

The realization of her vulnerability flashed through her mind, sparking a defiant glare, even as she attempted to shield her identity by casting her gaze downward.

"You needn't bother trying to hide now," Scarecrow's voice cut through the tense air, a smirk audible in his tone as he closed the distance between them. "I've seen all I need to see."

Acknowledging that hiding was no longer an option, Y/n understood that resistance might still sway the balance in her favor. With a burst of energy, she attempted to launch herself off the table, only to crumble to the ground, her legs betraying her strength.

"Easy, you've only just regained consciousness," Scarecrow taunted, his steps hastening towards her prone form.

In her struggle to stand back up, Scarecrow's hands suddenly steadied her, pulling her up with a firm grip on her arm. Yet, even in this vulnerable state, Y/n's resolve didn't falter. Her hand darted out, seizing a scalpel from a nearby table, and she held it towards Scarecrow, who instinctively raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. The air between them crackled with tension, each poised for the other's next move.

Scarecrow's voice was calm, yet firm. "You're hardly in a position to resist effectively. Let me help you back onto the table before you injure yourself further. The scalpel isn't necessary," he advised, his tone bordering on reasonable.

Y/n couldn’t help but notice how professionally he spoke. 

"So you can subject me to more of your experiments? Yeah nah," she laughed, sarcastically.

Scarecrow, unfazed by her resistance, replied with a hint of a threat, "Whether you agree or not, you're in no condition to stand. It's only a matter of time before you collapse again."

She knew he was right. She could barely feel her legs, and the bits of sensation she did have was undeniable pain. With a reluctant sigh, Y/n let the scalpel clatter back onto the table.

Seeing her give in, Scarecrow lowered his hands and gently supported her around her waist, guiding her with a care that contrasted with his usual menace. He lifted her effortlessly, placing her back on the medical table with a carefulness that seemed out of character. Her legs dangled off the side, the height of the table leaving her feet dangling in the air, a subtle reminder of her current vulnerability.

"Why am I here?" Y/n demanded.

"Had I not intervened, you would be dead," Scarecrow replied.

"So, you hit me with your gas for shits and giggles? Or am I just another subject for your midnight experiments?" Y/n's tone was laced with anger.

"I never intended to expose you to the gas," Scarecrow clarified, moving to grab an item from a nearby table.

"And what? Your hand just slipped?" Y/n retaliated with sarcasm.

"I thought you were the Batman," Scarecrow confessed as he returned to her side.

"And how does that change anything?" Y/n challenged.

Ignoring her, he held a cup, what appeared to be cloudy water. Scarecrow pressed the cup into her hand. 

"What's this?" Y/n asked, raising her brow.

"For your headache and numbed legs," Scarecrow responded.

Y/n eyed the cup warily, her skepticism evident. Scarecrow sighed, his voice distorted by his mask.

"If I intended harm, it would have been done already," he assured her.

"Then answer my question," Y/n pressed.

"What question?" Scarecrow responded quickly, playing the fool.

Y/n rolled her eyes. "Why does it matter that you gassed me if I work with Batman?"

Scarecrow remained silent, his gaze fixed on her. She returned his stare, peering into the depths of his blue eyes, an aspect she'd never noticed before, having never been this close to him without a fight.

"Why don’t you want to hurt me?" Y/n rephrased her question.

"Because I don’t want to," he replied simply.

Y/n's shoulders sagged in defeat as she took a sip from the cup, relieved to find it tasted just like water.

"What's your name?" Scarecrow's question caught her off guard.

Y/n shot him a judging glance. "Seriously? Are you dumb? Or do you think I am?"

Scarecrow chuckled, the sound crackled by his mask. "Your face isn't much of a secret now," he remarked.

"True, but a name would give away too much, wouldn't it? Besides, I doubt you'd share yours even if I asked," Y/n countered.

"Fair enough. Batgirl it remains," Scarecrow said.

Concern creased Y/n's brow as she broached the subject weighing on her mind. "So, what's your plan for me now?"

"You're not in any shape to leave just yet," Scarecrow observed.

"Okay, but when I am?" Y/n pressed.

Scarecrow hesitated. "I can't say for certain when that'll be," he admitted.

"You're the reason I'm drugged up…it was your toxin," Y/n pointed out.

"I didn't anticipate having to save anyone after using the gas," Scarecrow replied, his gaze drifting away.

Y/n sensed there was more to his reluctance than he let on. "Why won't you let me go?" she demanded.

"I told you—" Scarecrow began, but Y/n interjected firmly, "I want the real reason."

Scarecrow settled into a chair at a nearby desk.

"Aw, is the Scarecrow feeling lonely?" Y/n teased, her tone light despite the tension in the air.

Though she couldn't discern his expression behind the mask, she could practically feel the weight of his glare.

"Hey, if you keep up with that attitude, I might just have to pay you a visit in the Narrows," Y/n teased further, her words laden with playful defiance.

Y/n couldn't shake the uncertainty creeping into her mind. Was she really entertaining him with her banter?

"I suppose I'll have to hold you to that," Scarecrow retorted, his tone tinged with a hint of amusement.

Y/n couldn't believe what she was hearing. Did he actually want her to visit?

"...Batman must be worried about me," Y/n spoke aloud.

"You'd be correct. He's been searching the Narrows looking for you," Scarecrow confirmed.

She's now aware of their whereabouts. Somewhere in the Narrows, not entirely helpful, but better than nothing.

Relief washed over Y/n. "So he's okay then?" she asked anxiously.

"I only administered a small dose. He's perfectly fine," Scarecrow reassured her.

"Can I leave in about 10 minutes?" Y/n requested.

Scarecrow sighed. "Yes, but let me perform one final check first," he insisted.

He approached her. "Can you stand?"

Y/n noticed a tingling sensation in her legs, a welcome sign of returning strength. She gingerly hopped off the metal table, feeling Scarecrow's supportive grip immediately. Taking a moment to steady herself with his assistance, she eventually managed to push him away gently.

"Considering how quickly Batman bounced back, I'm sure he'll be able to assist you if you encounter any further issues," Scarecrow remarked.

"So, can I go?" Y/n inquired.

"Yes, but you'll be blindfolded," Scarecrow detailed.

Y/n watched as Scarecrow grabbed an unexpected item from his coat, her mask which she had completely forgotten about. She accepted it, placing it securely back on her face. Following this, he produced a blindfold, carefully tying it around her eyes.

"What about my utility belt?" she questioned.

"It's been left in the alley. I expect Batman has already located it with the tracker," Scarecrow informed her.

It made sense, had the belt been here, Batman would have pinpointed her location instantly due to its tracking device.

"Give me your hand," Scarecrow said.

Y/n reached out, feeling Scarecrow's grip. His hand was bare, contrasting with her gloved one, allowing her to feel the unique texture of his skin. Together, they navigated towards what Y/n presumed was the exit.

"Mind your step," Scarecrow instructed.

With extra caution, Y/n raised her foot higher than usual, stepping over what she imagined was the door frame. The sound of metal underfoot suggested they had transitioned onto a metallic grate.

"Coming up to some stairs," Scarecrow said.

As Scarecrow slightly descended, he guided Y/n to the first step. Clutching Scarecrow's hand for support, her free hand found a handrail. They carefully descended the staircase together.

"Last step," Scarecrow informed her.

Her feet found solid concrete below. They continued their journey outside, Y/n blind to their surroundings. After about ten minutes wandering the Narrows in silence, Scarecrow halted.

"I'm going to spin you so you won't know which direction we came from," Scarecrow explained.

Y/n snorted, "Feels like a weird game," she joked.

Gently, Scarecrow placed his hands on her shoulders and started to spin her. Y/n laughed, her steps becoming unsteady as she spun. Once she was sufficiently dizzy, Scarecrow ceased the spinning.

"Can I take off the blindfold now?" Y/n asked.

Scarecrow loosened the knot, freeing her from the blindfold. Blinking against the light, she surveyed her surroundings, her balance off from the spinning.

"I have no idea where I am," she admitted, scanning the area.

"That was the point," Scarecrow replied.

A small smile formed on her lips. "Hey, thanks for not killing me," she uttered, a phrase she never imagined saying.

"I apoligize for using the gas on you," Scarecrow said.

"I appreciate the apology...So! See you around?" Y/n tilted her head, looking at him.

Scarecrow seemed taken aback. "You aren't planning to tackling me to the ground for Batman?" 

She shook her head.

"Then, yes... until next time, Batgirl," Scarecrow affirmed.

With that, Y/n walked away, the sound of her footsteps echoing in the alley. Glancing back one last time, she found he had vanished into the shadows.

As Y/n made her way towards the mouth of the alley, a familiar figure emerged from the shadows with a swift, purposeful stride. The figure's imposing silhouette was unmistakable against the dimly lit street. Batman, cloaked in his iconic cape, his gaze fixed intently ahead.

He approached Y/n, his presence commanding yet reassuring. "Where have you been?" Batman's voice, deep and grave.

Although aggressive, she knew it was his way of showing his concern.

Y/n sighed. "I'm fine, thanks! But I wouldn’t have been if not for an unexpected turn of events," she responded, her voice a mix of relief and bewilderment.

Batman surveyed the surroundings with a beading eye, then returned his attention to Y/n. "Scarecrow?" he asked, already piecing together the encounter from the clues left behind.

"Yep," Y/n confirmed.

Batman summoned the Batmobile with a press of a button, and it swiftly glided around the corner, halting with precision in front of them. "We'll discuss it on the way," Batman suggested, sliding into the driver's seat of the Batmobile.

Y/n quickly followed, hopping into the passenger seat. The top sealed shut with a soft hiss, and they set off toward the Batcave, the engine's low rumble filling the air.

"As soon as you were hit with the toxin, I ran after Scarecrow. I know you said not to but I couldn't just stand by," Y/n recounted. "He hit me with some kind of super version of his toxin... I blacked out and later woke up in his lab... He had saved my life," she reflected, still piecing together the surreal events.

"Scarecrow...saved you...after he was the one to endanger you..." Batman's voice betrayed a hint of skepticism.

"Exactly... He said he mistook me for you and used a more lethal toxin," Y/n clarified.

Batman mulled over the information, "This must be part of some elaborate scheme."

"...When I was unconscious, he took off my mask," Y/n added quietly, the weight of her vulnerability in that moment hanging between them.

"We can't change what's happened," Batman responded with an unexpected calm. "For now, you need to stay at the batcave."

Y/n understood the protective gesture, Batman was ensuring her safety. This meant her encounters with Scarecrow would be on hold, a disappointing, yet perhaps for the best, turn of events.

-

Upon their arrival at the Batcave, Bruce insisted on conducting his own check up of Y/n to ensure her well-being. As he meticulously checked her condition, Y/n found her thoughts drifting back to Scarecrow.

The lanky figure behind the coarse, burlap mask now intrigued her more than ever. Despite her efforts to thwart his plans and her alliance with Batman, Scarecrow had spared her life. His actions defied the logic that he should have seen her as a direct threat, deserving of his lethal wrath.

Throughout their encounters, Scarecrow had consistently avoided using his fear toxin on her, opting for less harmful methods. And on the one occasion he did administer it, he promptly provided an antidote and went as far as looking after her back at his lab.

What puzzled her further was his reluctance, or perhaps refusal, to let her leave. There seemed to be an underlying reason he didn't want her to go, adding layers to his already complex persona. This unexpected mercy and the mystery shrouding his true intentions only deepened Y/n's curiosity about the man beneath the mask.

-

Y/n's second week interning at Arkham was unfolding better than she'd anticipated. Tasked with interacting with the less dangerous patients, she found them peculiar yet unexpectedly sweet, a stark contrast to her initial assumptions. Each person, in their own right, contributed to the unique tapestry of Arkham's inhabitants.

Walking through the asylum's corridors on her way to Dr. Young's office with a stack of files in hand, Y/n was absorbed in her thoughts, hardly aware of her surroundings. This lack of attention led to a collision with a passerby, resulting in her files scattering across the floor.

"Shit, sorry," she blurted out, immediately kneeling to gather the scattered documents.

The individual she bumped into stood frozen, offering no assistance or reaction. Once she collected her files and stood up to face him, she found herself looking at a tall, slender man adorned with rectangular, wire-framed glasses, his expression one of bafflement.

"Sorry, I wasn't paying attention," she said, hoping to break the ice.

Yet, the man remained silent, his eyes wide and mouth slightly open, offering nothing but a fixed stare. With an awkward smile, Y/n excused herself, moving past him to continue on her way.

"Sorry, again... Have a good day," she added, before turning her focus forward and spotting Dr. Young near her office.

"Met Dr. Crane, have you?" Dr. Young asked, observing the scene.

Glancing back, Y/n saw the man, now identified as Dr. Crane, retreating hastily down the hallway.

"Apparently. He a quiet one?" Y/n asked, intrigued by the unusual man.

"Not at all," Dr. Young confided with a hint of amusement. "He's known for being quite outspoken and, frankly, a bit abrasive. But let's keep that between us."

Y/n let out a soft chuckle, appreciating the candid insight. Together, they proceeded into Dr. Young's office. As they delved into their tasks and discussions, the brief encounter with Dr. Crane swiftly faded from Y/n's mind.

-

Barely two hours had passed, with Y/n engrossed in her task of organizing files, when Dr. Young re-entered the office, fresh from her break.

"It seems you've caught the attention of Dr. Crane," Dr. Young remarked as she stepped inside.

Y/n glanced up, puzzled. "Huh?"

Dr. Young, settling into her chair with a chuckle. "Well, in the cafeteria, Dr. Crane cam up to me out of the blue to ask about you. Considering he never engages in conversation unless it's strictly necessary, that was quite the surprise!"

Curiosity piqued, Y/n continued, "What exactly did he ask about?"

"Just your name and your role here," Dr. Young replied with a smile.

The thought of garnering anyone's interest, let alone Dr. Crane's, hadn't crossed Y/n's mind. Yet, she brushed it off, doubting it would have any significant impact on her internship.

-

Back at her home, Y/n found herself sprawled on her bed, engulfed in the unfamiliar territory of idleness. With Bruce sidelining her from night patrols, the once exhilarating darkness of Gotham's nights now stretched endlessly before her, filled with nothing but the quiet.

Letting out a sigh, she flung her book aside, a tangible sign of her growing restlessness. Reluctantly, she rose and drifted towards her computer, where the glow of her screen illuminated tabs of research left untouched since yesterday. Though the news articles of Scarecrow she had found offered little in the way of breakthroughs, she held onto the hope they might yet yield something of value.

It was then that a sudden thud against her window broke the silence, startling her. Turning to look, she expected to find nothing more unusual than a disoriented bird that flew into it. However, the repeated thudding suggested this was no ordinary accident.

With a sigh, Y/n approached the window to investigate. A crow was the culprit, determinedly striking the glass over and over. Attempting to shoo it away with a tap against the window proved futile, the bird was either stubborn or really dumb. About to turn away in defeat, Y/n noticed something clutched in the crow's beak, she naturally had to investigate.

Concerned it might be choking, she opened the window to offer assistance. The crow, uninvited, hopped boldly into her room and onto her bed.

"Hey! You’re gonna get my shit all dirty!" Y/n protested, trying to usher it off.

Yet the crow remained unbothered, stationed firmly on her bed. With a curious tilt of its head, it released its hold, letting the object, a piece of paper, fall onto her duvet.

Realizing the crow was unharmed, Y/n let out a sigh. "Okay, you can leave now," she suggested, gesturing towards the open window.

However, the crow remained stationary, its gaze fixed on her as if it had more to say. They stared at one another awkwardly, the air between them thick with uncertainty. The crow nudged the piece of paper with its beak, then lifted its eyes to hers, prompting her attention.

Reluctantly, Y/n shifted her focus to the paper, curiosity getting the better of her. The paper was torn and foled. She unfolded the ripped fragment to reveal a message that sent a jolt of shock through her.

'Found you.'

The simplicity of the message belied its ominous intent, transforming her initial confusion into a wave of dread. "Holy fuck," she muttered, her pulse quickening.

As if its mission was accomplished, the crow took its leave, soaring out the window. Y/n raced to the window, a futile attempt to keep it from leaving. "Oi!"

But her plea vanished into the night, leaving her to face the silence of her room. The solitude that had once been merely boring now felt ominously oppressive.

How had Scarecrow found her? The question echoed in her mind, a reminder that her sense of security was more fragile than she had ever imagined.

Y/n wasted no time in dialing Bruce's number, her fingers trembling with anxiety as she waited for him to pick up. When he finally answered, she didn't bother with pleasantries.

"He found me," she blurted out in a tense whisper.

"Y/n? What are you talk-?" Bruce paused. “How?”

"I don't know how he did it, Bruce. There's no way he could have tracked me from that night," Y/n replied, her nerves palpable. “He sent his fucking pet crow, or something to my window with a little note saying he found me.”

"I think it would be safest for you to stay at my place for a while," Bruce suggested, his tone urgent.

"Yeah, but what if he figures out… you know?" Y/n's worry crept into her voice.

"Is there anywhere else you can go?" Bruce asked, his concern evident.

Y/n's mind raced, but she couldn't think of any safe alternatives. "Not really," she admitted reluctantly.

"Okay, just stay safe. I'll be checking up on you," Bruce instructed firmly.

"I'll do my best," Y/n sighed, feeling a sense of dread settle over her as the call ended.

She dropped her phone on her bed along with herself. Sitting on her bed, she ran her hand down her face groaning. She just prayed he was as nice as he was the night before.

-

The next day, Y/n felt a sense of unease as she walked through the corridors of Arkham towards Dr. Young's office. Upon entering, she was met not only by Dr. Young, but also by the presence of Dr. Crane.

"Good morning, Y/n. I'm sure you're acquainted with Dr. Crane by now," Dr. Young gestured towards the man in the room.

Y/n nodded awkwardly, turning her attention to Dr. Crane. "Hello, Dr. Crane," she greeted, extending her hand for a shake.

"Miss L/n," he replied, his voice crisp and professional as he took her hand.

There was something strangely familiar about his touch, though Y/n couldn't quite place it. Brushing it off as mere coincidence, she focused on the conversation at hand.

"Well, we've decided to switch things up a bit and provide you with more opportunities around the asylum. Today, Dr. Crane has kindly offered to mentor you instead of me," Dr. Young explained.

Y/n nodded, trying to maintain her composure. "Oh... cool," she replied, though her uncertainty lingered beneath the surface.

"My work primarily focuses on the higher-risk patients, so today I'll be showing you around those areas of the asylum," Dr. Crane explained, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Alright, shall we get started?" Y/n asked, eager to begin.

"Certainly," Dr. Crane replied, opening the door for Y/n to exit first. She thanked him and stepped into the hallway, where Dr. Crane joined her.

"So, Miss L/n, what led you to Arkham?" Dr. Crane inquired, initiating conversation.

"Well, I studied at Gotham University for five years and managed to get an internship here. It's an opportunity I couldn't pass up," Y/n replied.

Dr. Crane nodded, showing interest. "You're interested in psychology, I assume?"

"Naturally," Y/n confirmed.

"And outside of Arkham, how do you spend your time?" Dr. Crane asked, delving deeper.

Y/n wasn't prepared for such a personal question, and she found herself struggling to formulate an answer. In truth, much of her time was split between intensive research and her activities as a vigilante. "Uh... research mostly," she replied, keeping her answer vague.

"Any specific areas of focus?" Dr. Crane probed further.

"Primarily psychology-related topics, and occasionally delving into articles about various personalities in Gotham," Y/n answered, trying to keep her response casual.

"Ah, the Gotham Rogues, I presume? Have any in particular piqued your interest?" Dr. Crane inquired, his gaze lingering on her as they made their way towards the elevator.

Y/n had been informed by Dr. Young that small talk was rarely on Dr. Crane's agenda, suggesting his continuous questions might stem from a lack of social que. Yet, as a psychiatrist, his understanding of social dynamics should be adept, making his approach puzzling.

"Ah, well... each of them are interesting in their own way, to say the least," Y/n replied, deflecting deflecting to keep the conversation neutral.

Acknowledging her response with a nod, Dr. Crane diverted his eyes ahead, the silence momentarily enveloping them as they approached and entered the elevator. With a practiced motion, he swiped his keycard and selected their destination floor.

The elevator began its descent in silence, the hum of its mechanism filling the small space. Dr. Crane stood with a composed posture, hands clasped behind his back, while Y/n could feel the tension in the air, an undercurrent of unspoken thoughts swirling between them.

After a moment, Dr. Crane broke the silence. "The study of fear is particularly fascinating, don't you think?" he started, his tone measured, eyes fixed on the elevator doors as if addressing the question to himself. "It's primal, yet so complex. A fundamental emotion that can be both a hindrance and a survival mechanism."

Y/n, caught off guard by the sudden shift in conversation, nodded in agreement. "Yes, it's quite a paradox. It shapes so much of human behavior, yet we understand so little about its underpinnings."

The elevator dinged, announcing their arrival at the high-risk patient floor. As the doors slid open, Dr. Crane stepped out, gesturing for Y/n to follow. "Indeed. And it's within these walls that fear becomes a canvas, each patient painting their own portrait of terror."

The topic of their conversation enveloped Y/n in a sense of unease. While it was natural for a psychiatrist to delve into subjects like fear, given her recent unsettling situation, discussing it now stirred an unwelcome and deep-seated discomfort within her.

They walked through a secured door after Dr. Crane keyed in a code, entering a corridor lined with reinforced glass cells. The patients inside varied in their reactions to the newcomers, some pressed close to observe them, others retreated into shadows, and a few remained indifferent, lost in their own worlds.

"As you'll see today, our approach to treatment varies greatly, tailored to each patient's specific needs and... inclinations," Dr. Crane continued, leading Y/n past the cells. "Observation and understanding is key. Fear can be both a lock and a key in our field."

Y/n felt a chill run down her spine, not just from the atmosphere of the high-risk ward but from Dr. Crane's words. They echoed with a depth of knowledge and an intensity that felt almost too personal, as if fear itself was a familiar friend to him.

As they continued their tour, Y/n couldn't shake the feeling that Dr. Crane was studying her just as much as he was explaining the procedures and philosophies of Arkham Asylum. There was a calculated curiosity in his gaze, a probing quality that made her wonder what he saw when he looked at her. 

Their footsteps echoed softly as they walked through the corridor, eventually halting in front of a door. 

"This," he announced, ushering the door open with a gentle push, "is my office."

Crossing into the new space, Y/n found herself standing somewhat awkwardly, uncertain of what was to come next.

"I have a few patient appointments scheduled today. You'll have the opportunity to observe. But first, there are some reports I need to deal with. I imagine you have tasks of your own to do in the meantime?" he suggested.

With a nod from Y/n, he settled into his chair behind the desk, drawing out several files and a pen. As he began to write, Y/n couldn't help but observe him, a sense of déjà vu washing over her. There was an inexplicable familiarity in his presence that she couldn't quite identify.

Catching her gaze, he looked up, peering over his glasses. "Is there something on your mind?" he asked.

Y/n hesitated for a moment, considering her response carefully. She wasn't sure if she should bring up her recent encounter with the Scarecrow, especially given Dr. Crane's interest in fear and psychology. But something about his demeanor encouraged her to speak up. She cracked it down to the fact that he was around higher risk patients at arkham so he should understand.

Y/n hesitated for a moment, choosing her words carefully. She didn't want to alarm Dr. Crane or reveal too much about her involvement with Gotham's underworld.

"Well, actually..." she began, her voice measured. "I recently had a rather unusual encounter with someone who... operates outside the norms, let's say."

Dr. Crane raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "Go on," he prompted, leaning forward slightly.

"There's this... guy," she began, her voice thoughtful. "Who put me in a rather diffucult situation. But instead of leaving me in trouble, this guy… helped me. He claimed that his actions were never intended to inconvenience me, but rather someone else entirely. It's all rather confusing to me."

As she spoke, Dr. Crane listened attentively, his analytical gaze fixed on her. There was a calculating intensity in his eyes that sent a shiver down her spine, but she pushed past it, determined to convey the essence of her experience without divulging too much.

He leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers thoughtfully. “Why do you think he wouldn’t have helped you?” he asked.

“Well this... guy... well, he’s not exactly known for his generosity,” Y/n said, choosing her words carefully.

"I see," he murmured, his tone contemplative. "It seems you've had quite the... encounter."

Y/n nodded, relieved that she had managed to convey the situation without revealing too many details. 

“Well... what about the situation confuses you?” he asked.

“The fact that he helped me, I just don’t understand it,” Y/n said.

“Had you encountered this individual prior to that?” Dr. Crane inquired.

“Yes, and he wasn’t particularly pleasant,” Y/n replied.

“Perhaps he had a change of heart, felt remorse... or maybe you interested him in some way,” Dr. Crane suggested.

Y/n recognized that Dr. Crane might not offer much assistance, especially since her account was far from the complete truth, but she valued his perspective.

“Yeah... maybe,” she said, considering his viewpoint.

-

The two appointments proceeded smoothly. The first patient was a paranoid individual, tormented by incessant fears of lurking threats in the shadows. As for the second patient was a woman struggling with intense anxiety and recurring nightmares. Dr. Crane navigated through their sessions with his calmness and precision, offering insightful observations and gentle guidance.

As the day progressed, Y/n found herself drawn into the complexities of the patients' minds, witnessing firsthand the challenges they faced and the therapeutic approaches employed by Dr. Crane. 

By the end of the day, Y/n felt a newfound respect for Dr. Crane's expertise and a deeper curiosity about the human psyche. 

Leaving Arkham, they boarded the Akrham train heading to the city center. "I trust today has been insightful for you," Dr. Crane remarked as they found their seats.

The clatter of the train tracks provided a rhythmic backdrop to their conversation as they settled into their seats. Y/n nodded, reflecting on the day's events. "Definitely," she replied. "It's given me a lot to think about."

Dr. Crane inclined his head, his gaze thoughtful. "Understanding the human mind is a continuous journey, filled with both challenges and revelations," he remarked. "But it's a journey worth undertaking."

Y/n nodded in agreement, absorbing his words. As the train rumbled on, she noticed that her stop was nearing.

"Thank you, Dr. Crane. You've been a really amazing mentor today," Y/n expressed her gratitude.

Dr. Crane nodded, acknowledging her gratitude. "You're welcome, Y/n. If you ever need any guidance or have any questions in the future, feel free to reach out," he said, his tone surprisingly warm.

As the train slowed to a stop at Y/n's station, she gathered her belongings and stood up. "I'll keep that in mind. Thank you again," she said, offering a polite smile before stepping off the train.

"Have a safe walk home," Dr. Crane bid farewell as the train doors slid shut.

As she walked away from the station, Y/n couldn't shake the feeling of curiosity about Dr. Crane. There was something intriguing about him, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. But for now, she pushed those thoughts aside and focused on the rest of her day ahead.

Alone in the dark, a wave of fear washed over her. Her home was just a ten-minute walk from the station, but after receiving that ominous message yesterday, she felt more uneasy than usual.

The usual nightly weirdos on the street didn't bother her much, no, it was the thought of encountering Scarecrow that sent shivers down her spine.

As she walked, a group of guys stepped out from a dark alley, eyeing her with leering grins. "Hey, sweetheart, looking for some company?" one of them called out, his tone dripping with sleaze.

Y/n rolled her eyes, unimpressed by their attempts to intimidate her. "Sorry, boys, not interested," she replied, quickening her pace.

As they closed in, Y/n sprang into action with lightning speed. In one fluid motion, she lunged towards the nearest assailant, her hands moving with precision. With a swift twist, she disarmed him, the weapon clattering to the ground with a metallic clang.

Before the others could react, Y/n hit him with calculated strikes, each one finding its mark with pinpoint accuracy. With each opponent she incapacitated, the threat diminished, until finally, all that remained was a pile of defeated adversaries at her feet.

Just as she thought the situation was under control, a familiar chill ran down her spine. The dim streetlight cast eerie shadows as Scarecrow emerged from the darkness, his silhouette looming ominously. Y/n's heart raced, her muscles tensing in anticipation.

The air seemed to thicken with tension as Scarecrow's gaze swept over the scene. She braced herself as the Scarecrow raised his hand, expecting the worst. Shielding her face, she awaited the inevitable assault, but instead, she heard screams erupting behind her. 

Reluctantly lowering her arms, she turned to witness a man writhing on the ground, his cries echoing through the deserted street beside a discarded firearm. Her gaze snapped back to the Scarecrow, her eyes widening in astonishment.

"One missed," he remarked coolly.

“Scarecrow…” she uttered, caught between greeting him and still processing the situation.

“Y/n,” he acknowledged.

“So...you know my name now,” she remarked, her tone barely masking her worry.

“Would you prefer I call you Batgirl still?” he asked, sarcastically.

“I suppose there’s no point,” Y/n shrugged, conceding to the truth.

Observing him in the dimly lit street, she couldn't help but notice his eerie yet intriguing presence. “Nice suit,” she commented, attempting to break the tension.

“Thank you,” he replied courteously, his mask concealing any expression.

Despite his seemingly benign demeanor, she couldn't shake off her unease about his sudden appearance. “What are you doing here?” she probed cautiously.

“Making sure you got home safely,” he responded matter-of-factly.

“You’re following me?” she questioned, her suspicion growing palpable.

“Looks that way,” he confirmed, his voice protraying no hint of emotion.

“...I’ll be off then,” she stated, turning to head back home.

His footsteps echoed behind her, prompting her to halt and face him. “You’re still here?”

"You don’t think I was just going to leave,” he remarked.

“Then can you at least not stalk behind me?” Y/n requested, her tone surprisingly composed despite her lingering unease.

Closing the distance between them, he fell into step beside her. “You know Batman might find you,” she warned.

“Not tonight, I saw him off chasing the Penguin,” he assured her.

Y/n looked ahead, contemplating their unusual companionship. “So… are you going to hurt me?” she questioned, her voice hinting her vulnerability.

“I didn’t hurt you before, why would I now?” he countered.

“Well, why else are you here?” she pressed, her curiosity piqued.

“It was you that said you’d ‘see me around’,” Scarecrow reminded her.

She recalled their earlier exchange, surprised that he remembered. “I didn’t think you’d remember… or care,” she admitted.

They lapsed into silence for a moment before Y/n broke it. “How did you find me?” she asked the question that was weighing on her mind since she got the note.

“It was coincidence,” Scarecrow replied cryptically.

“Seriously! That's all?” Y/n protested.

“I saw you... and gaining access to you was a simple matter after that,” he explained.

Y/n paused, contemplating the implications of his words.

“Wait, so you mean to say... Did I see you around?” Y/n's curiosity peaked.

Scarecrow's silence spoke volumes, confirming her suspicions. Y/n's mind raced, attempting to pinpoint any instance where she could have crossed paths with Scarecrow during the day, but nothing came to mind.

"You're annoying, you know that? Why can't you just tell me who you are?" Y/n pressed, frustration lacing her words.

"And give you the chance to share with your caped crusader? I think not," Scarecrow retorted with a hint of amusement in his distorted voice.

Y/n scowled, "This is bullshit. What kind of friend are you?"

"Friend?" Scarecrow echoed, a note of mock surprise in his tone.

Realizing she had referred to him as a friend, Y/n hesitated, "Well… I don’t know."

"Considering me a friend? That's rather... optimistic of you," Scarecrow jested.

"You know what? Fuck you," Y/n snapped, pushing him away in annoyance.

Scarecrow's laughter, distorted and chilling, filled the air.

"About that crow yesterday..." Y/n shifted the topic.

"Ah, yes, Craw," Scarecrow interjected.

"Craw... you named your bird after the sound it makes? What are you, five?" Y/n couldn't help but mock his choice.

"Feeling particularly bitey today, aren't we?" Scarecrow remarked with a hint of amusement.

"I'm just pointing out the obvious. You could have called him anything and you settled on 'Craw'? It's like naming a cat 'Meow' or a dog ‘Woof’," Y/n countered.

"I doubt your question was solely to critique my naming choices," Scarecrow deflected, steering the conversation forward.

"So, you have a trained crow... cool," Y/n conceded.

With a snap of his fingers, Scarecrow summoned the crow, which gracefully swooped down to perch on his shoulder.

"Fuck, that’s impressive," Y/n admitted, genuinely taken aback.

"He's a good companion," Scarecrow acknowledged, affectionately caressing the crow's feathered chest.

"And yet, when I mention friendship, I'm desperate?" Y/n teased with a scoff.

"I'm merely taken aback... You haven't even tried to call Batman on me yet," Scarecrow observed.

"Well, if he can have his criminal friend, I don't see why I shouldn't either," Y/n reasoned, thinking about Bruces weird thing with Catwomen.

"It only seems fair," Scarecrow conceded with a nod.

As they approached her apartment complex, Y/n paused and faced Scarecrow.

"I guess this is where I leave you," she remarked, a hint of reluctance in her tone as she gestured towards the looming building of her apartment complex.

Scarecrow tilted his head slightly, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer than usual. "Seems so. You'll be safe here, I presume?"

Y/n couldn't help but feel a pang of irony at the question, considering who it was coming from. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Thanks for helping me back there," she quipped, offering him a small, genuine smile.

Scarecrow nodded once, sharply, as if dismissing any need for gratitude. "Take care, Y/n."

With those parting words, he turned and disappeared into the shadows from where he came, leaving Y/n to stare after him for a long moment. Shaking her head slightly, as if to clear it from the surreal encounter, she turned and headed towards her apartment, her mind swirling with thoughts about the night's events and the enigmatic figure that had just left her side.

-

The anticipation for her next encounter with Scarecrow had always been tinged with impatience, but now, there was a distinct shift in her desires. Gone was the sole focus on capturing him, instead, she found herself wanting to talk, even hang out with the guy.

Wandering the corridors of Arkham, her thoughts were abruptly interrupted by an exasperated shout not far from her location. “Damn bird!” echoed off the sterile walls.

Curious, Y/n turned on her heel to investigate. A large bird flying through the hallway, causing a commotion. But this was no ordinary crow, as it swooped closer, she recognized it instantly. Craw, Scarecrow's supposed good companion.

As the crow landed gracefully before her, Y/n crouched down, gently scooping him up. The security guard, panting from the chase, approached with a look of annoyance plastered across his face.

“Stupid bird,” he muttered, reaching out to snatch Craw away.

Y/n, cradling the crow protectively, assured him, “It's fine, I've got this. I'll make sure he's put outside.”

The guard, too worn out to argue further, simply shrugged and departed. Alone now, Y/n shifted her focus to Craw, who seemed quite content in her grasp.

Noticing a piece of paper held in his beak, she gently grabbed it, speaking softly to the crow, “Hey there, pretty. How did you manage to find me here?”

Placing Craw on her shoulder, she unfolded the note.

‘I’ll see you tonight.’

A smile unknowingly crept across her face as she read the message. Shortly after, Craw took flight from her shoulder, darting down the corridor.

“No! Craw, I need to take you outside!” she called after him, her plea falling on deaf ears.

With a resigned sigh, she watched him disappear deeper into the Asylum. “Well, he's someone else's problem now.”

Despite the mild chaos, the note clutched in her hand warmed her heart, igniting a flutter of excitement for what the evening might bring.

-

The walk home felt different for Y/n this evening. Each shadow cast by the dim streetlights seemed to promise the appearance of Scarecrow, echoing his note that said they would meet again. With every step, her anticipation grew, turning each corner with a mix of eagerness and anxiety, expecting to find him waiting in the familiar alley where their paths often crossed. But tonight, the alley remained empty.

The silence of the alleyway, usually filled with the tension of their encounters, now hung heavy with disappointment. She lingered for a moment, scanning the shadows and empty spaces where he might have stood, half-hoping for the rustle of his coat or the soft click of his approach. But there was nothing. Just the quiet of the night and the distant hum of the city.

As she continued her walk home, the excitement that had quickened her steps faded into a dull ache of letdown. Thoughts raced through her mind, pondering why he hadn't appeared. Had something happened to him? Had Batman managed to intervene?

Reaching her apartment, Y/n couldn't shake the sense of solitude that enveloped her. Inside, the quiet of her home only amplified her disappointment. With a heavy sigh, Y/n resigned herself to the evening's solitude, dropping onto her bed.

As she lay in the quiet of her room, Y/n found herself wrestling with thoughts that mocked her for entertaining the idea of a friendship with someone as complex and dangerous as Scarecrow. How could she, grounded in her own principles and duties, truly expect to build a connection with a figure who thrived in the shadows, a master of fear? 

Her thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a thump against her window. Startled, she glanced up, only to find the familiar silhouette of a crow striking the glass. Hurrying over, she opened the window, allowing Craw to flutter into the room. Peering out the window, her pulse quickened at the sight below.

Scarecrow stood on the ground, gazing up at her with his usual get-up.

"May I come up?" his voice floated up to her.

Without hesitation, she swung onto the fire escape, releasing the ladder for him. As he ascended, a mixture of surprise and anticipation filled her.

"Why are you here?" she inquired, as he stepped through the window into her room.

"I said I'd see you tonight," he replied.

"I thought you’d just walk me home," she admitted, a smile playing on her lips despite herself.

"Indeed, I intended to, but I was held up," Scarecrow said, his voice carrying a touch of regret.

Inside her room, with the city's night as their backdrop, she couldn't help but jest, "So, the man behind the mask has a life?"

Scarecrow chuckled below the mask, “That I do.”

Now settled in her room, Y/n found a comfortable spot on her bed, her back resting gently against the headboard.

With a curious tilt of her head, she ventured, "Could I possibly hear more about the man beneath the mask?"

He hesitated for a moment before answering, "I was caught up at work, actual work, something that required my immediate attention."

This prompted Y/n to recall her little interaction with his crow eariler. "Speaking of work, how did you manage to send Craw into Arkham?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Let's just say he found his way through a window," he replied,criptically.

Scarecrow chose a spot at the foot of her bed, directly opposite her, and gracefully seated himself. Craw saw it as an opportunity to hopped onto his thigh, finding comfort in his familiar presence.

As they sat in Y/n's room, the silence between them was palpable. Y/n couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions. Curiosity, apprehension, and a strange sense of comfort in Scarecrow's presence. She studied him closely, trying to decipher the man, but his expression remained hidden.

"So, what really brings you here tonight?" Y/n finally broke the silence, her voice betraying a hint of nervousness.

Scarecrow glanced at her, his gaze piercing. "I wanted to check on you," he replied simply.

Y/n raised an eyebrow, skeptical of his intentions. "Check on me?" she echoed, searching his face for any hint of deception.

"Yes," Scarecrow affirmed, his tone unwavering. "After our encounter the other night, I thought I should make sure you're okay."

Y/n's initial skepticism softened slightly, replaced by a flicker of surprise. Despite their strange relationship, Scarecrow's concern for her well-being was unexpected.

"I'm fine," Y/n reassured him, offering a small smile. "But why go through the trouble? You're not exactly known for your kindness."

Scarecrow's lips quirked into a faint smile, the gesture almost imperceptible. "Perhaps I'm not as one-dimensional as you think," he remarked.

Y/n's curiosity piqued at his response, but before she could delve further, there was a sudden knock on her apartment door.

“Y/n? I called you but you didn’t answer,” it was Bruce.

The sudden interruption sent Y/n's heart racing, a surge of panic flooding her as she heard Bruce's voice through the door. She momentarily froze, realizing the difficult situation she was in. Glancing frantically at Scarecrow, she leaped into action, her movements swift and desperate.

"Under the bed, now!" she hissed, urgency lacing her whisper as she practically shoved Scarecrow towards the hiding spot.

Without hesitation, Scarecrow complied, slipping under the bed. No sooner had he vanished from sight than Y/n dashed to the apartment's entrance, her mind racing with excuses.

"Hey, Bruce, sorry about that. My phone's been on silent, what’s up?" she managed to say with a feigned nonchalance as she swung the door open, greeting him with a practiced casualness.

"I said I'd swing by to check on you. Everything's been okay lately?" Bruce asked, stepping past the threshold with a concerned glance.

"Yep, all good here," Y/n replied, her voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through her veins.

Y/n found herself desperately seeking a solution that wouldn't raise Bruce's suspicions, yet every moment he lingered increased the risk of Scarecrow's presence unmasking Bruce's own secret identity. Trapped between a rock and a hard place, she was at a loss, her mind racing for a strategy that seemed increasingly elusive.

Then, an ominous thump from her bedroom shattered the tense silence, causing her heart to plummet into her stomach.

"What was that?" Bruce's voice sharpened with alertness, his instinctive concern prompting him to move toward the source of the sound.

Y/n's anxiety reached it’s limits until, unexpectedly, a voice came from her bedroom. "Y/n? Who's at the door?" It was unmistakably Scarecrow, yet his voice was stripped of its usual menacing distortion, sounding disarmingly normal.

Panic painted Y/n's face with a stark shade of horror, a silent scream at the realization of her rapidly unraveling situation. However, Bruce's reaction took a turn Y/n hadn't anticipated. His expression, initially furrowed with concern, smoothly transitioned into an amused smirk.

"I didn't realize you had company. I'll leave you to your...guest," he said, his voice laced with an uncharacteristic lightness.

In that moment, Y/n's dread shifted to a baffling sense of relief to mild embarrassment. The flush of embarrassment that crept up Y/n's cheeks. The implication in Bruce's assumption that her "guest" was there for reasons more intimate was mortifying, yet it was a far more palatable scenario than him suspecting the presence of a notorious criminal in her bedroom.

"U-uh, yeah, sorry," she managed, her voice a mix of awkwardness and gratitude as she escorted Bruce to the door.

Pausing at the threshold, Bruce turned back to her, his expression lightly amused. "Have a good night," he said, his voice carrying a hint of jest before he delivered a playful wink and departed.

As Y/n closed the door behind him, a wave of relief washed over her, tinged with a lingering embarrassment. As Y/n reentered her bedroom, her gaze fell upon Craw, who had perched on the shelf by her door. 

"Are you still hiding under my bed?" she asked, her knees pressing against the cool floor as she peered under the bed.

There he was, Scarecrow, his frame stretched out beneath her bed, an unexpected sight that was oddly endearing. "Yeah," came his muffled reply.

"It's safe to come out now," she assured him, her voice lifting with a mix of relief and warmth.

As Scarecrow emerged, his presence seemed to fill the room. "What was that thumping sound?" she asked, genuinely puzzled.

"Craw decided the door looked interesting," Scarecrow quipped, a hint of affection for the mischief-maker in his tone.

Y/n's eyes darted to Craw, her expression one of mock frustration. "You bloody bird!" she growled, though the crow seemed preoccupied with scratching his wing with his beak.

"And thank you, by the way. My heart nearly stopped when he headed towards my room," she admitted, her hands finding their way to her hips.

"Who was that, if I may ask?" Scarecrow's curiosity was evident, his head tilted.

"A friend," she answered simply.

"Just a friend?" he probed further, an edge of something playful in his voice.

"Jealous?" Y/n teased, a light chuckle escaping her.

"Should I be?" he parried, his voice laced with amusement.

Y/n's laughter filled the room, a sound of genuine amusement. "Bruce is just a friend. Though now he probably thinks I've got a secret lover stashed in here," she said, the humor in her situation not lost on her.

"Bruce? As in-" Scarecrow started, only for Y/n to jump in.

"Bruce Wayne? Yes," she confirmed, closing the loop on his thought.

"I would've expected the Batman, not Bruce Wayne," he mused, his voice carrying a note of mock disappointment.

"Batman wouldn’t bother with the front door, that’s for sure," Y/n laughed. 

Y/n chuckled, her fingers idly tracing patterns on her bedspread. "So, did you... you know, take off the mask when you called out?" she asked.

Scarecrow's response was matter-of-fact. "Well, yeah. I don’t know if you can tell, but my voice isn’t naturally distorted," he pointed out.

Y/n's playful pout betrayed her teasing tone. "That's not fair! My room got to see your face before I did!" she exclaimed, feigning offense.

"Your room is quite the lucky spectator," he remarked, his tone filled with amusement.

"I bet you won’t show me cause you’re insecure," Y/n teased with a playful glint in her eye.

Scarecrow tilted his head. "Or perhaps I prefer the mystery. Keeps things interesting, doesn't it?" His voice was muffled slightly by the fabric covering his features.

Y/n laughed, shaking her head. "Interesting for you, maybe. I'm just sitting here guessing if you're secretly a model or if you've got a face only a mother could love."

"Guess you'll just have to keep wondering," he replied.

The room fell into a comfortable silence, filled only by the soft rustling of Craw shifting on his perch. Y/n found herself studying Scarecrow, trying to glean any hint of the man behind the mask from his posture, his movements, even the way he spoke. There was an undeniable curiosity bubbling within her, a desire to know more about the mysterious figure who'd become an unexpected constant in her life.

As the night wore on, their conversation flowed, ranging from trivial banter to more serious discussions about their contrasting views of the city they both operated in. Despite their differences, Y/n felt a strange sense of kinship with Scarecrow, a connection forged in the unlikeliest of circumstances.

Eventually, Y/n yawned, the lateness of the hour catching up to her. Scarecrow noticed, standing up from where he had been sitting. "I should go," he said, his voice carrying a note of reluctance.

Y/n nodded, feeling an unexpected twinge of disappointment at the thought of him leaving. "Yeah, I guess it's getting late."

As Scarecrow moved toward the window, Y/n called out, "Will I see you again?"

He paused at the window, turning slightly to look at her. "I'm sure you will," he said, a hint of a smile in his voice.

And with that, he slipped out into the night with Craw flying after him, leaving Y/n with a mix of emotions and the lingering thrill of their conversation. 

-

After two calm weeks, Bruce finally agreed to Y/n resuming her nightly endeavors alongside him. Although he harbored lingering doubts about Scarecrow, Y/n managed to clam his concerns, assuring him that Scarecrow would not pose a threat.

As Y/n and Batman moved stealthily through the Narrows, the dense fog seemed to cloak their presence further, blending them into the night. This part of Gotham, with its tight alleys and towering buildings, felt like a world entirely its own.

"Keep your guard up," Batman whispered, his voice barely carrying over the mist. "The Narrows are unpredictable."

Y/n nodded, her senses on high alert. The Narrows always had a way of keeping you on your toes, its residents too used to the shadows. But tonight, there was an odd stillness, as if the very air was holding its breath.

Suddenly, Batman stiffened, his head tilting slightly, the universal sign that he was receiving a communication through the cowl's integrated comms. Y/n watched him, waiting for instructions, knowing that whatever had just come through could very well dictate their next move.

After a moment, Batman turned to her, the glow from the city behind him casting a shadow over his face. "Riddler's causing trouble downtown. I need to go now."

"I'll stay here. Keep an eye on things," she offered, already mentally preparing to handle the Narrows alone.

Batman nodded, a silent message of trust and confidence in her abilities. "Be careful," he said before grappling away, disappearing into the night sky.

Alone now, Y/n felt the weight of the silence around her. The Narrows, with its whispering shadows and secrets, suddenly seemed even more foreboding. She took a deep breath, centering herself. This was her domain too, her responsibility.

"Thought he’d never leave," came a voice below her, drawing her attention downward.

As Y/n leaned over the edge of the rooftop. To her surprise, Scarecrow stood on the balcony below, his figure illuminated by the faint glow of the city lights.

"You've been here the whole time?" Y/n exclaimed, taken aback by his sudden appearance.

"I've been waiting inside. The place was abandoned," Scarecrow replied calmly, gesturing towards the building behind him.

Y/n hopped down from the rooftop, landing gracefully on the balcony beside him.

"Wow, Batman and I need to step up our game," she remarked, impressed by Scarecrow's stealth.

"Haven’t seen you as Batgirl in a while," Scarecrow noted, his gaze lingering on her.

"Yeah, thanks to you. I was sidelined. Batman thought you were gonna go after me," Y/n explained, a hint of frustration in her voice.

"Keeping you safe. Wise man," Scarecrow replied cryptically, a faint smirk playing on his lips.

Y/n chuckled, shaking her head. "More like overprotective," she whined.

Y/n could hear Scarecrow smirk behind the mask. "He has reason to be. You're not exactly easy to replace."

Y/n rolled her eyes playfully. "Flattery will get you nowhere," she teased.

"Where's Craw?" Y/n asked, looking around.

"Is my presence not enough for you?" Scarecrow teased.

Y/n side-eyed him, and Scarecrow chuckled. "He's back at my lab."

Scarecrow leaned against the balcony railing, his gaze scanning the darkened streets below. "So, what's the plan now? Are you patrolling solo?"

Y/n nodded. "Looks like it. Batman got called away to deal with Riddler downtown."

Scarecrow hummed in response. "Well then, I guess it's just you and me tonight."

Y/n raised an eyebrow, a hint of skepticism in her expression. "You planning on causing any trouble?"

Scarecrow chuckled, shaking his head. "Not tonight."

They fell into an easy silence, the sounds of the city filling the air around them. Despite the darkness that surrounded them, Y/n couldn't help but feel a sense of camaraderie with Scarecrow, an unexpected ally in the night.

Y/n cast a sidelong glance at Scarecrow, noting the unusual cleanliness of his attire. "Not the usual tattered suit?" she pointed out.

Scarecrow glanced down at his suit. "Well, one has to look clean to impress," he replied, glazing at her.

"I'm sure Batman doesn't mind how you look," Y/n quipped, a playful glint in her eye.

Y/n leaned her back against the balcony railing, her gaze meeting Scarecrow's with a hint of mischief.

"Although, I must admit, the rugged look suits you," she teased, a sly smile playing on her lips.

Scarecrow chuckled softly, his gaze meeting hers with a spark of amusement. "Is that so? Perhaps I should stick to the tattered aesthetic then," he countered, his tone laced with flirtatiousness.

Y/n's laughter rang out across the night sky, the sound mixing with the distant hum of the city below. "You do you, Scarecrow. Just don't expect me to swoon over every torn thread," she replied, a playful glimmer dancing in her eyes.

Scarecrow leaned in slightly, his voice lowering to a whisper. "Ah, but what if I told you I have a whole wardrobe of tattered suits just waiting to impress you?"

Y/n chuckled, her heart fluttering at the playful tone in Scarecrow's voice. "Just for me? Scandalous.” 

"Well, if torn threads won't do the trick, I'll have to find another way to catch your eye." Scarecrow added.

Y/n raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a mischievous grin. "Oh? And what approach are you planning to take?"

He leaned in even closer, his gaze locking with hers. "I suppose I'll have to rely on my charming wit and irresistible charm," he replied, his tone filled with playful confidence.

Y/n chuckled, the sound light and melodious in the night air. "Smooth talker, are we?" she teased, her own playful demeanor matching his.

Scarecrow's grin widened, a glint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Only when I'm in good company," he admitted, his voice softening slightly as he held her gaze.

Y/n's cheeks flushed at his words, her gaze lingering on his captivating eyes. "You certainly know how to flatter a girl," she teased, unable to suppress the flutter of excitement building within her.

Scarecrow chuckled softly, the sound sending a thrill through Y/n. "Only because you make it so easy," he murmured, his gaze holding hers with an intensity that left her breathless.

"If I weren't on duty, I might have been tempted to steal a kiss from you right here," she teased, her fingers playfully tugging at his noose.

With a wink, she turned on her heel and disappeared into the abandoned apartment, leaving Scarecrow to ponder her words.

"You never know, the night is young," he remarked, his voice laced with playful innuendo.

"Oh, but I could never kiss a man whose face I've never seen," Y/n remarked.

"Oh, but the mystery adds to the allure, don't you think?" Scarecrow countered.

Scarecrow chuckled, the sound echoing in the dimly lit room. "Who says you haven't seen it before?"

Y/n halted in her tracks, her eyes widening in surprise as she turned back to face him.

"So, I have actually seen you before?" she asked eagerly.

Scarecrow nodded, a hint of amusement in his demeanor. "Yes, indeed," he confirmed.

Her excitement grew, and she leaned in closer. "Did we talk?" she pressed.

"We did," he replied, a slight smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

Her disbelief turned into sheer astonishment. "Oh my god! Seriously? Can you tell me more?" she exclaimed.

"We had quite a conversation, and we crossed paths a few times afterward," Scarecrow disclosed.

Y/n racked her brain, trying to recall any details, but she was drawing a blank. Feeling frustrated and a little foolish for not making the connection, she sighed. Despite now knowing what he sounded like without the mask, she still couldn't piece it together.

"Holy fuck! That's incredible!" Y/n exclaimed, laughter bubbling up from within her. "Can you give me just a tiny hint about what you look like?" Y/n pleaded.

"Sorry, but that would spoil the fun," Scarecrow replied.

Y/n persisted, "Well, do you at least know if I find you attractive?"

"Why do you want to know that?" Scarecrow questioned.

"Because it might have to kiss you after all," Y/n teased.

Scarecrow considered her words before responding, "...I don’t know. You didn't seem particularly impressed when you saw me, you were just a bit awkward at first. But to be fair, so was I."

There was a hint of vulnerability in his tone, though Y/n couldn't be sure. "Perhaps my awkwardness was due to the fact I was starstruck?" she offered playfully.

Scarecrow sounded unconvinced. "Unlikely," he countered gently.

"Or… could it be because my attention was already captivated by someone else? Maybe a certain Scarecrow?" Y/n teased, aiming to lighten his spirits.

Scarecrow's demeanor shifted, his voice tinged with defensiveness. "Why the sudden interest, Batgirl? You've never shown any feelings towards me before. What's changed?" he asked.

Y/n found herself confused by the unfolding situation. When had she begun to flirt with Scarecrow, and why was she so invested in making him believe she was romantically interested? Whenever this change occurred, she didn’t mind it.

"Woah. You started this, and don't act as if you weren't flirting with me too," Y/n retorted.

Scarecrow's tone never softened, his eyes narrowing as he studied Y/n's face. "And if I was? What are your intentions, Y/n?" he asked.

"I don’t know! I was just bantering, playing along… what were your intentions then? How do I know you're not just leading me on so you can gas me again?" Y/n retorted, turning the tables on him.

This clearly offended Scarecrow. "You know it was an accident."

"Do I?" Y/n challenged.

Scarecrow's expression softened, a hint of regret in his eyes. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he said quietly.

Y/n felt a pang of sympathy. "I know," she replied softly. 

They stood in silence for a moment, the weight of their conversation hanging in the air. Eventually, Y/n spoke up again. "Look, I didn't mean to upset you."

"Look, I didn't mean to upset you," Y/n said, her tone sincere.

Scarecrow took a deep breath, visible even through his attire. "And I apologize if I seemed defensive. It wasn't my intention."

Their eyes met, an unspoken understanding passing between them. Both were treading uncharted waters, neither sure of where the current would take them but willing to navigate it together.

"So, I've been meaning to ask," Y/n began, again with the playfulness in her voice, "do you wear contacts?"

Scarecrow tilted his head slightly, "Prescription ones, yes."

"But not colored?" she probed further.

"No, why do you ask?" Scarecrow's response carried a mix of curiosity and amusement.

Y/n's tone softened, warmth seeping into her words, "It's just that... you have really pretty eyes."

"Again with the flattery?" Scarecrow teased.

"It's just the truth," Y/n replied with a grin.

"And here I was thinking I might get a kiss," Scarecrow joked.

Y/n chuckled, shaking her head, "I told you, I’m not going to kiss a man I don’t know."

Scarecrow shrugged, a playful glint in his eyes, "That’s a shame."

The distant wail of sirens interrupted their banter.

"I should probably leave now," Scarecrow remarked.

"Yeah… see you later?" Y/n said, a hopeful note in her voice.

"Count on it. Until then... See you at Arkham," Scarecrow said, disappearing into the night.

Y/n's mind raced to piece together the puzzle he had inadvertently presented her. It took a moment for the realization to sink in, but when it did, her heart skipped a beat. 

"Wait a minute!" she called out, but it was futile, Scarecrow was already gone.

Her mind buzzed with newfound clarity. Tall, lanky, formal speech, glasses, and now, a connection to Arkham. It all clicked into place with a sudden jolt of realization. How had she not seen it before?

"Holy fuck," Y/n breathed, her pulse quickening.

The pieces of the puzzle were finally falling into place, revealing a truth she couldn't ignore. Scarecrow... was someone from Arkham. And in that moment, a single name echoed in her mind with chilling clarity.

The conversations they'd shared, the topics they'd discussed, all pointed to one undeniable truth. His fascination with fear, his strange approach to their encounters, it was all too familiar now.

The memory of their first meeting flooded back, and suddenly, it made perfect sense. The shock on his face, the careful choice of words. It was Dr. Crane, right before her eyes.

Y/n couldn't believe she hadn't seen it sooner. How had she missed the signs? How had she not recognized the man behind the mask all along?

Now faced with this newfound knowledge, Y/n was at a crossroads. Should she maintain the facade of ignorance, carrying on as if nothing had changed? Or should she confront Dr. Crane, acknowledging the truth that lay between them? And what about the promise she'd made, the playful banter about kissing him. Was it all just a game, or did it hold deeper significance now?

One thing was certain, she couldn't risk revealing her discovery to Bruce. As she grappled with these thoughts, Y/n resolved to tread carefully, to navigate this delicate situation with caution. The truth had been revealed, but its aftermath remained to be seen.

-

Throughout the morning, Y/n felt restless as she awaited her encounter with Dr. Crane. Stuck in Dr. Young's office sorting files, she impatiently waited for the opportunity to find him. 

As soon as she finished with the files, Y/n swiftly stored them away and left the office, determined to seek out Dr. Crane in the secure section of Arkham.

As Y/n made her way through the corridors of Arkham, her mind raced with anticipation. She had been waiting for this moment, hoping to confront Dr. Crane. Suddenly, she spotted him in the distance, his figure unmistakable amidst the gloom. Their eyes locked, and she saw a hint of amusement in his expression, as if he knew she was coming.

Her heart skipped a beat. Feeling a surge of determination, Y/n hastened her steps, closing the gap between them with purpose. As she reached Dr. Crane, she grabbed his arm firmly, surprising him with her sudden boldness. His smirk widened slightly, betraying a mixture of surprise and curiosity at her actions.

Without uttering a word, Y/n tugged him along, leading him towards his office. Dr. Crane offered little resistance, seemingly taken aback by Y/n's assertiveness. As they entered the office, Y/n swiftly closed the door behind them and turned the key in the lock, sealing them inside.

"You sly motherfucker," Y/n breathed out.

Entwining her fingers in his hair, she drew him closer, her lips crashing against his in a fiery embrace. The kiss ignited a whirlwind of emotions, fueled by pent-up desire and the thrill of discovery.

Caught off guard by Y/n's sudden boldness, Dr. Crane hesitated for a moment before surrendering to the intoxicating allure of her kiss. His hands found their way to her waist, pulling her closer as the intensity of the moment enveloped them both.

For a fleeting moment, the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in their own private universe of passion and longing. But as the kiss deepened, an obnoxious buzz interrupted the moment, reminding them of their surroundings.

Reluctantly breaking the kiss, Y/n and Dr. Crane gazed into each other's eyes, a mixture of surprise and desire reflected in their expressions.

"I... I didn't expect..." Dr. Crane began, his voice trailing off as he struggled to find the right words.

Y/n's heart raced as she searched his eyes for any sign of regret or hesitation. But instead, she found a spark of something else, a glimmer of longing and vulnerability that mirrored her own.

"I'm sorry," Y/n whispered, her voice barely above a breath. "I just couldn't resist."

She noticed a blush creeping up Dr. Crane’s cheeks as he adjusted his glasses.

"Am I fogging up your glasses?" Y/n teased.

Dr. Crane chuckled nervously. "Not disappointed, I see," he replied, his tone unable to hide his embarrassment.

Y/n smiled, her eyes twinkling with affection. "Now, I could never be disappointed in my Scarecrow," she said, her words filled with warmth.

Dr. Crane's blush deepened at the endearing nickname, but he tried to maintain his composure. "I hope you don't go around kissing all your superiors," he joked, attempting to deflect the attention.

Y/n grinned mischievously. "Just you, Dr. Crane," she said, her tone teasing yet sincere.

Dr. Crane's lips curled into a soft smile at her response. "Seeing as circumstances change, you can call me Jonathan," he offered, his voice tinged with newfound intimacy.

"Well, Jonathan… I'm glad to finally know the man behind the mask," Y/n said with a smile.

"You better not go off telling your bat friend about this," Jonathan warned playfully.

"And lose my nighttime companion? No way," Y/n retorted, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Jonathan chuckled at her response. Y/n’s eyes drifted to the closed office door.

“We should probably be getting back to work now," Y/n said, a hint of reluctance in her voice.

"We should, yes..." Jonathan began, his gaze lingering on her. "But I've never been one to follow the rules too closely," he added, drawing her closer into his embrace.

Y/n chuckled softly, realizing she wouldn't be leaving the office anytime soon. With a smile on her lips and a newfound connection in her heart, Y/n embraced the unpredictable journey ahead, knowing that whatever was between them was going to be complicated. But as Jonathan's lips met hers once more, Y/n felt a rush of exhilaration, realizing that wouldn’t want it any other way.

-

A/N: Thank you so much for the request 💚 I really did enjoy writing this fic, enemies hit differently when it's in superhero fics and I love it. Even with the fic being 15k long, I wasn't sure how to make them 'lovers', so I ended up just making them playfully flirt and just turn it into real attraction cause...slay. So yeah, it's a bit fast paced but I am still happy with what I've written and I hope yous are too :) It took me quite a while to write as I've just been so busy with Uni and work lately, finding time between has been difficult. Thank you again and I hope you enjoyed 💚

[ramen-flavored]

my dude is getting Barbie Dolls and a Star

[indulgentdaydream]

Headcanon about Jason’s and Alfred’s birthday that is five days late BUT:

From any batkid’s perspective other than Dick and Jason’s, it’s just a known fact that Alfred does not celebrate his birthday. No one even knows when it is.

They’ve tried asking him. He won’t budge. It doesn’t help that none of them even know his correct age so they can’t go off of that either.

“Why won’t you let us celebrate your birthday, Alfred?” Steph asked one day while everyone else was around.

“There’s no reason for me to celebrate anymore. I’ve had enough birthdays.”

Not even Bruce will budge on the matter.

Then, long after Jason comes back. Only once he finally reconnects with his family, does anything happen.

Tim walks into the kitchen one day and sees Alfred and Jason at the counter, bowls around them. “What are you two doing?”

“Baking a cake,” Alfred responded. Tim could see the chocolate flavouring from here.

“Can I help?” Cass spoke up from behind Tim.

Jason turned, a stern, cold glare on his face, “No.”

Alfred reached up and tugged on Jason’s ear for a moment before continuing to stir, turning to face the other kids, “It’s a tradition. Best to keep to it.”

That night, they all sat at the dinner table. Alfred set down the cake in front of Jason, who sat at the head of the table with everyone around him.

Damian was the first to notice the writing, “What is this?”

Everyone leaned a little closer. Surrounded by burning candles, in neatly scrawled white icing in cursive font read, “Happy Birthday Jason!"

Then below it, in thick, sloppy, capital letters, read "+ ALFRED"

Everyone’s confused except Dick and Bruce.

“Why is Alfred’s name on the cake?”

“Because it’s his birthday, too? I don’t see what the big fuss is.”

After everything is explained and cake is handed out, there comes to be a mutual, unspoken understanding.

Alfred had lost his reason to celebrate his birthday. Now, after all these years, he had it back.

[gotham-daydreams]

The Red Dawn

Yan!Batfam × Cop!Reader

[General Warning: Reoccurring of suicide, May contain uncomfortable context such as mentions of cults, occult like practices, gore (mild mentions to heavy descriptions), blood, insanity, obsession - and general yandere behavior. You have been warned.] (Note: Unless otherwise specified, it's to be believed that actions involved with harming, hurting, or heavily injuring the self are not talking about the Batfamily or the reader.)

New trouble arises in Gotham as mentions of a 'Red Dawn' happening on Devil's Night spreads. With a take down of a small group leading into an even deeper mystery, it seems the Batfam must dawn their masks and look into even the most darkest corners of Gotham - as something dirty, and potentially dangerous, is at play once again.

You, a transfer from Metropolis, are also following the case. Only time will tell what exactly will happen next, as this 'Red Dawn' is just over the horizon. As there are only 3 days left.

Day 1

Day 2

Day 3

Day 4

Day 5

[Something to Note]

-------------

Trying something new in the spirit of Halloween while I get some things done, and also just trying to challenge myself a bit here :]

[tsuvvy]

Reader is injured during a fight with Bane and they refuse to seek medical attention. They hide their wounds from their batfamily and try to heal on their own. However, their condition worsens and they collapse in front of the batfamily. (Reader is the youngest tooo??)

Needing Help Isn’t a Weakness

Pairing: Platonic Batfamily x youngest adopted reader (A little more focus on Damian cause I want to be his little sibling so badly)

Warnings: Mentions of harm, violence, blood, passing out/fainting/collapsing, like one cuss word close to the end

Bane was a nightmare. An idiotic, annoying, nightmare. The guy basically threw you around like a ragdoll. You’d think he had it out for you the way he seemingly targeted specifically you. You’d sustained quite a few injuries by time the fight with the villain was over.

You were leaning over, your hands on your knees to support you. You almost felt what you thought might be your heart seemingly dropping to your stomach at the sight of the gash on your side. You hadn’t even noticed it. You must have been in shock, because the realization of even having it made it start to hurt. You could feel the blood seeping from the wound.

“Hey, are you okay?” Tim asks worriedly, coming to your side after having seen the heavy hits you had been taking in the battle against Bane.

You moved your cape, hiding your side in a way you usually liked to do, even when not injured. “I’m good,” You told him non-chalantly. You were lucky for the habit with the cape, cause Tim might have had a moment of wanting to continue prying on if you were okay, but he left it be.

You’d lied to everyone that asked if you were okay, giving them thumbs ups and ‘I’m okay’s. You rushed to your room, saying you were so tuckered out from the fighting and could do with a good nights rest. You were a little surprised that the family full of masked vigilante detectives didn’t seem to notice anything wrong. But that was until you got to just shy of maybe 7 or 10 steps away from your room.

“What’s your problem?” Damian spoke from behind you, his arms crossed over his chest, his tone accusatory and suspicious. You could almost feel how his gaze narrow on you from behind.

He had seen how you had clutched your side for a moment before letting your arm fall when you heard him.

“Nothing,” You had calmed yourself down, turning your body halfway to look at your older brother. “I don’t have a problem.”

Damian stared at you for a little while. And you stared back. The two of you caught in some kind of staring contest.

“You know you can tell me if you do, right?” Damian asked, his expression softening slightly, “I might be distant, but I’m still your older brother-”

“Adopted. Older brother.” You quickly added on. You had been adopted only recently, not having really taken to the family quite yet. “I don’t need your help or your pity, Damian.” You sighed, turning away.

Damian had stayed in the hallway for a little while, watching you walk into your room. And he heard the lock sound after you closed it.

But he didn’t see how you bit your lip and closed your eyes tight as the pain from the gash on your side radiated throughout your whole body. It was a struggle to get the vigilante uniform off, and even more of a struggled to try and bandage it yourself. You knew the gash needed professional attention, but why do you need anyone else’s help? You didn’t need Tim, Damian, Cassandra, Barbara, Dick, Jason, Bruce, or Alfred’s help.

It made sense why Bruce adopted you. He had a thing for adopting traumatized kids, and you didn’t seem to be any exception to that. You’ve been alone for so long. You’ve fought by yourself, stole by yourself, survived by yourself, and you’ve patched yourself up before by yourself. So why couldn’t you patch this wound?

But you couldn’t deny the flitting moment of thinking to going to any of the bat family for help when you let out mutters of pained whines and cusses as while you sporadically poured the 99% alcohol over it to ‘clean’ it. But that thought was quickly pushed to the side after the alcohol and cleaning part. You messily applied the bandage around the gash. If someone asked if you knew what you were truly doing, you’d be lying if you said yes.

Everything hurt. All of the wounds inflicted by Bane started taking precedence. But the gash most of all over all of them. Your legs and arms were sore, you had a headache, the cuts on your hands and face were stinging. It’s a miracle that you even made it to bed. You somehow got the strength to take a pain pill, and of course, to no surprise, you passed right out.

Luckily your bleeding had stopped not long before you took the pain pill, so you were able to survive the night the best you could with the most amount of sleep you could manage you get. Which was’t a lot..

When you awoke, everything was blurry, and bright, and your headache was back. And your side was just radiating with pain. You let out a whine of pain as you managed to sit up. You really hadn’t thought about how much pain you might be in in the morning.

You pushed yourself out of bed, and basically fell into the door of your room. You moved your hand to the doorknob, unlocking the door and turning the handle. You almost fell when the door you were leaning all of your weight against opened more abruptly than you thought. You managed to catch yourself by grabbing onto the door frame. A silent scream of pain leaving your lips.

Somehow, you also managed to use the wall to walk throughout the house, keeping a hand on the wall while you not even walked. I’d say.. Shuffled or scooted might be a better way to describe how you moved.

You were basically hugging the bannister while you slowly shuffled down the stairs. You could feel the blood soaking the already somewhat soaked bandages. Though you were wearing a thick long sleeved gray sweater with pajama pants.

“Y/n?” Dick questioned, his eyebrows furrowing when he saw you, “You okay?”

You were disoriented. You looked around, but it felt like you weren’t. Everything was a blur, all you heard was static in your ears. Everyone was staring at you with worry. But you couldn’t make that out. All you could make out was how everything began turning on it’s side before everything went black.

“Y/n!” A good majority of people screamed in worry while they watched you fall. Luckily, Jason was close enough to catch you.

You groaned, more of a whine of pain, actually.. It took almost everything out of you to peel your eyelids open. The cieling was weird. The medical equipment next to you was weird. You felt weird. You were in so much pain..

“It’s a miracle she lasted as long as she did with the poor bandaging job they did,” You heard a sigh from nearby. You looked over tiredly to see Barabara was the one that sighed while she had been talking to Dick and Tim.

“Y/n?” Everyone looked towards the opening in the curtain. It was Damian, and he was staring at you. His eyes wide yet worried set on you. “Y/n!” He said, but a bit louder and more enthusiastic in a way. Damian rushed to your side of the medical bed, grabbing your hand with a gentleness that was strange. Barabara, Dick, and Tim had made their way to your other side.

“She’s awake?” Jason questioned as him, Cassandra and Bruce came in as well.

“You are an idiot, l/n,” Damian told you, sending you a glare. But it was different. It looked more emotional. And you guessed it might have been a worried glare considering how his grip on your hand tightened.

“Seriously,” Jason started, he was standing behind Damian, “What the hell is wrong with you? Are you seriously so stubborn you won’t ask anyone for help with something you clearly need help with?”

Honestly, you felt stunned and confused. You looked around at everyone. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. You didn’t realize how your grip on Damian’s hand tightened.

“I don’t need help…” Was all you could mutter out, barely above a whisper.

“You’re kidding, right?” Tim deadpanned.

“With all do respect, Ms/Mr/Mx. Y/n,” Alfred appeared in the doorway, bringing little sliders for you to eat. He placed them on a little table next to the medical bed you were laid in. “But you collapsed from severe bloodloss, exhaustion, and because of the pain you were in,” You listened to him intently. Alfred was one of the only family members to be rewarded with such treatment for you, “I’m afraid the gash you had acquired on your side would have killed you if it was left not professionally treated.. And I must also say, dumping 99% alcohol onto a wound is very reckless.” The old man sighed.

You puffed out your cheeks and looked away from him. Your cheeks had colored in embarrassment.

“Y/n,” Barbara took your other hand, “I know it was hard growing up alone, you’ve been conditioned to not accepting other’s help.” She sighed, reaching up to move some of your hair out of your face with a gentle touch. “But needing help isn’t a weakness..”

“She’s right!” Dick spoke up, “It’s actually pretty honorable to know your limits and ask for help.”

“Come on, give them some space!” Bruce spoke up, noticing how everyone seemed to be crowding you. Barbara backed away from your side, your hand falling out of her’s. Damian however stayed at your side, keeping his grip on her hand tight and protective. Damian hadn’t always been the nicest, but he cared for you. Part of him felt the need to protect you. You’re his younger sibling, whether you were adopted or not, it didn’t matter.

“I am proud of you, Y/n,” Bruce patted your head. Your eyes widened, you weren’t sure what to say to such a gesture from the guy. “You need to learn that we all care for you and your wellbeing, we want you safe and happy. So next time you are injured as badly as you were, I do not want to be seeing you collapsing because of your stubborn pride.” He scolded you gently, “That understood?”

You sighed, rolling your eyes, “Yes sir..”

“Alright, good.” He smiled gently and subtly.

“This was great and all,” Jason spoke up, “But I gotta get going,” He rested his hand on your head, ruffling your hair gently yet annoyingly, “Be safe, don’t do stupid shit anymore, kay?” He didn’t wait for you to answer before he left. And after him, everyone else started trickling out with their own goodbyes and see you laters. But Damian remained at your side.

The two of you sat in silence. You looked to the open curtain when Titus came into the room and hopped up onto your medical bed. He had rested his hand on your lap, and you began to pet him with the hand Damian hadn’t been holding

“Never again,” You heard Damian say.

“Huh?” You looked at him.

“Never do something stupid like that again..” He sounded angry, but also worried.. You stared at him for a second, your hand on Titus’ head coming to a halt.

“I’m sorry..” You muttered. Damian didn’t respond for a second.

“Don’t apologize, I understand your reasoning behind why you did it. Just don’t do it again.”

“Alright..” You said softly.

[cutebat]

In a lot of yan batfam stories, it's usually the reader who is always the one to be neglected, but for me, it's the other way around.

Like the second you came into his life, Bruce just turns 180 and puts all of his focus onto you.

Damian: "Father, I lost my paintbrush. Will you help me find it?"

Bruce: "Not now, Damian. Can't you see that I'm trying to put your sister to sleep?"

Damian: "This isn't fair! You love her more than me! Your own and only blood son!"

Bruce: "I do."

Meanwhile, you, full of energy, were rolling around your bed while wearing your bunny onesie.

Batgirl: :3

[swe3tte4rs]

" My mom is so beatiful! " - Batfamily x Model!Batmom headcanons

Request: Batmom headcanons where batmom’s a model & the coolest mom ever?

Author's note: Thank you anon 🫶! Here is my second request, so I hope you like it. I didn't know what to put for the title so I settled for this one.

And it will also take me a while to upload the Zatanna x reader oneshot 🤗.

Again I clarify that my main language is not English, so sorry for the spelling errors 😿.

TW: nothing!! Just fluff I think

Nightwing / Dick Grayson

Since he met you, he was fascinated with your beauty and elegance.

He loved when you went to galas and you wrapped him up in your long elegant jacket while you picked him up in your arms and let him fall asleep like that.

Dick didn't miss any of your shows or commercials.

I bet he has your older shows saved on his computer.

A model and cool mother at the same time? Wow, Dick couldn't ask for more.

You are his only support, the only one who was there and loved him no matter what.

Dick will always ask your opinion about what he wears or what haircut he will get.

He goes crazy every time he hears someone say "Your mom is hot."

"It's not my fault that my mom loves me and yours didn't love you, fucking slu-"

I feels like he would play with you by imitating your walk just to annoy you.

Always showing off his mother, yesyesyes.

The YJ and Titans members would be very jealous of him; because you treat him very nicely and send him food, without saying that you drown your son with love.

Jason Todd / Red Hood

When he was Robin he was dwarf and plump. I and other people agree 😇

Jason loves the support you give him and keep giving him.

And he also loves your delicious food, he probably asks you to prepare some for him every time he goes out on patrol.

I just imagined him (when he was Robin) bringing you a bouquet of flowers bigger than him once you finish the show, seeing you with those beautiful and big eyes 😭

I bet he sometimes got scared when he saw your face on a commercial billboard.

And he keeps doing it, only he spits out whatever he's drinking when he sees you in TV. (Without him knowing that you participated as a model in X brand)

He loves and continues to love your attacks of kisses on his face.

Yes, he would also ask you for style advice, but only once a year, he is very proud when it comes to his clothing style.

"YOU SON OF A BITCH!! HOW DARE YOU HAVE A FUCKING POSTER OF MY MOM?!?!"

Damn Jason, your mom is a model, what do you want them to do?

Tim Drake / Red Robin

He has a love-hate relationship with your love attacks.

Tim, like his other siblings, would not miss any of your shows, or the parts in which you appear.

He would help Barbara to make sure no one wants to sabotage you at one of your shows.

If given the choice between your food or the support you give him, Tim would jump off a bridge. (jk)

"Bro, can you shut the fuck up and stop saying how beautiful my mom is? I already know that."

Tim gets embarrassed every time he is with his friends and you call him (by phone XD), because you start reminding him that he is very handsome and he need to eat something. But it irritates him more when his colleagues ask to talk to you.

Damian Wayne / Robin

I think he wouldn't care about your job

He's like, the most attached to you.

After your shows he would be attached to you like a flea.

Also at the galas.

Damian was surprised that you were so kind and loving towards him despite the things he said to you before him had that mother and son connection.

I think that at first Talia wouldn't like you, but after several talks with her and assuring her that you're not going to do anything to Damian, you could even be friends.

Oh yes, he wouldn't care about your love attacks, as long as it's not in front of his friends.

"Yes mom, yes I ate the food... Yes, I know you love me. *sighs* I love you too mommy..."

You're like Jon's second mom.

His favorite days are pool or beach days, he likes to enjoy the sea while spending time with his mom.

Cassandra Cain / Orphan

Cass is the vice president of your fan club.

Cass loves you infinitely.

She has an album full of photos of you and her after the shows.

She doesn't like the idea of you parading in swimsuits.

She would always ask you for clothing tips and advice.

Cass likes, loves, and admires having a mother who understands her and can be herself with her.

She wouldn't care if you show her love in public or private. She always gives you more love back!

Skincare routine between you and her.

You always make sure that she is fashionable but also has her own style.

She would have a lot of admiration for you.

I feel like she would hardly take any notice of "your mom is hot" because she thinks they are flattery.

But if they go overboard and insult you, Cass wouldn't hesitate to give them a good beating. Nobody messes with her mommy.

I think she would have you as her wallpaper. A photo of you and her on your birthday or on her birthday.

Stephanie Brown / Spoiler

She is the President of your fan club.

Throughout the parade she is like "how boring, I want to leave" until you finally appear, it doesn't matter if the outfit you wore is ugly, she would applaud you with all her might.

"WHY DID YOU AGREE TO DO A BIKINI COMMERCIAL?!?!"

I feel like she gets angry every time anyone tell her "she's super hot" (you), and Steph is like "the nosebleed I'm going to give you is going to be hot."

Every time she sleeps over at the mansion she joins you and Cass's skincare routines.

She loves you because every time you talk there is some laughter.

Steph appreciates and adores the support you give her as a mother figure.

You rarely have love attacks towards her.

But she adores them.

Every chance she would go shopping with you.

Duke thomas / The Signal

Just let me...

Duke is your photographer.

He had a hard time opening up to you at first, but you were just great and so sweet to him.

He doesn't react like his brothers do when they tell him "your mom is hot", rather he would feel uncomfortable.

Only if they insult you would he get serious.

He likes that you are always there to support him every time he goes out on patrol or comes back from patrol.

You and Duke's connection started when you tried to get him to distract himself from the harsh reality of his biological parents, like going to the park and all that.

He is embarrassed when you have your love attacks towards him. It doesn't matter if you are alone or in public, he will be embarrassed every time you have those love attacks.

I feel that when you go with him to buy clothes, you spend a lot of time because you can't decide what clothes to buy him.

But in the end you end up buying everything for him.

Barbara Gordon / Oracle

Yes, I added Barbara, okay?

In my AU there was no love affair between her and Bruce 😇

The one in charge of making sure everything goes well at the shows.

Sometimes she sees you as her mother, sister and best friend.

Barbara always sends you messages; according to her so as not to lose contact, which is a lie because you know it is purely on a whim.

I don't think you have love attacks with her, just a simple kiss on her cheek or forehead.

Although sometimes she envied the attention you gave to your children.

Barbara would value and care for you deeply.

[You can add more headcanons if you like <3]

[slut4thebroken]

Urges

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jason Todd x reader

Summary | The Lazarus Pit had some unexpected side effects.

Warnings | 18+, sexual content, smut, grinding, in public, humiliation, light dubcon, multiple orgasms, no female orgasms, so much come, like genuinely so much, angst?, fluff, Jay is secretly a sweetheart and a simp, obviously.

Words | 2.8k

Notes | Based on this. (Lol imagine that’s you know what all over him in the pic🫣🤭)

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

The pit didn’t just give him trauma— it affected his body too, giving him enhanced strength, speed, durability, and healing. But there was another, lesser known side effect. 

Honestly he hasn’t even thought about it for the past few years- always too focused on recovering from fucking dying, then on revenge and helping Gotham the way Batman couldn’t. But once it hit him… it hit him like a ton of bricks.

He doesn’t know where Batman or Nightwing were and why they weren’t with you, but there you were, the Batgirl suit even more flattering on your now mature body, making his cock strain in his pants. And you— you stupid little girl— decided to go after him alone. 

He tried to fight it, really he did, but when he had you pinned under him in a matter of seconds, he couldn’t help the way he pushed his crotch against you, trying to get a little bit of relief. 

“W- Get off me, you fucking creep!” You yelled once you noticed. He didn’t give you an answer because he knew exactly what would shut you up. So he took off the helmet and tossed it to the ground as your eyes widened. “Jason?” You said through a breath, making him growl at the sound of his name rolling off your tongue. He parted your legs, then settled between them and leaned over you as he rutted against your clothed heat. He only lasted a few seconds before the tightness of his pants became painful, so he leaned up to open them and pull his cock out. 

“What the hell are you doing?” You gasped, but there was no malice in your tone. Just pure shock and arousal. He leaned back down, shoving his face in the crook of your neck and inhaling deeply, not able to control the way his hips started rutting against you  just from your scent. You still wear the same fucking perfume that always used to make his cock fatten up in his pants whenever he got too close to you. 

He was panting against your neck now, his cock, trapped between your bodies, growing so incredibly sensitive that it almost fucking hurt. And his balls— god, he doesn’t ever remember a time in his life where they were this fucking heavy and full and aching. 

It wasn’t long before he was nearing his orgasm, especially when he focused on your breath on his neck and the way the swell of your tits felt against his chest. He choked out a moan, not able to control the way he started whimpering- so fucking desperate for relief. His brows furrowed, mouth open in a silent moan as his cock started twitching, then shot out rope after rope of come. He’s had enough orgasms to know that the way this one felt was definitely not normal. Even after a few years without it, it shouldn’t be this fucking intense and long. 

“God- what the fuck?” He whined, hips still desperately rutting against you as he rode out the endless orgasm. He could feel the mess through his own layers of clothing and he knew that your suit would be fucking wrecked when he was done. But it didn’t stop. He came for what felt like hours, listening to the pulse in your neck, smelling your perfume, feeling the delicate skin on his lips. 

“Fuck,” He whimpered, still rutting against you, but the friction was starting to lessen because of his cock being completely soaked with come. His balls just barely lightened, still feeling incredibly full and sore. When he finally, finally felt his orgasm fading, his hips slowed to a stop as he panted, trying to catch his breath. 

“Jesus fucking christ-“ You moaned through a breath. His cock twitched at the sound of your voice, never even having a chance to start softening before his whole body burned with need again. He leaned up to examine the mess, finding the entire crotch area of both of your suits completely soaked, as well as most of your mid sections too. He looked down further, finding come still dripping down the flushed tip all the way to his balls. His cock was so hard, it was almost visibly throbbing and his balls looked almost as full as they felt. 

“Jason?” You asked quietly, making his eyes snap up to yours with a growl. Your cheeks were pink, lips red and swollen as if you were biting them and he wanted nothing more than to shove his cock between them and make you drink his come, but even with the primal urges overtaking his brain, he couldn’t do that. Not to you. So with another growl he flipped you over, his come making a slapping sound as you landed. This time he kneeled over your legs instead of between them and he laid over you again to hold you still as started rutting against your covered ass. 

If he thought the smell of your perfume was intoxicating, it was nothing compared to your hair. He took a deep breath and let out a quiet groan, remembering how he used to be able to smell it when you hugged him. But back then it didn’t make him feel like this— it didn’t make his cock throb and it didn’t make him start whining. 

“Jason,” You suddenly said, trying to push yourself up, but his entire body weight was holding you down. He didn’t want to listen to your protests— to your rejection, so he placed a hand over your mouth, making you release a startled moan. 

“Shh, I’m sorry. It’s okay, I just- I need this, baby— need you.” You whined against his palm, the sound sending a jolt to his cock. 

It took every fiber of his being to not tear your suit and fuck your cunt- fill you up with load after load of his come until you milked him dry. But through those thoughts, he could hear a quiet voice reasoning that he wouldn’t be able to come back from that and he would lose you forever. And even though his cock was begging to be buried in a tight, warm cunt— in your tight, warm cunt— he knew it was true. So this would have to do for now. Just thinking about fucking you had him barreling toward his second orgasm. 

“Oh fuck- oh my god.” He whined, resting his forehead on your shoulder. His free hand was clenched so hard to keep from touching your tits, or anywhere else, that his fingers were starting to hurt.  

Despite him pinning you down completely, you managed to push your hips up a little, pressing your ass even harder against his cock. The action had him gasping out as he fell over the edge again. He couldn’t hold in the whimpers and moans as his cock twitched between your ass and his pelvis, spurting ropes of come into the tight space. His balls were practically throbbing— pulsing with each shot of come that left his cock. 

He continued rutting against you desperately, trying to get the most out of this agonizingly long orgasm. While he could feel some of his come coating his cock, it seemed like most of it landed on the small of your back that was arched as you held your hips up. The ache in his balls was already starting to alleviate, but they weren’t empty yet, so he sat up on his knees to continue, groaning at the sight of the entire lower section of your midriff covered in his come.

“Jason?” You asked quietly, but he ignored you as he lifted you onto your knees, pushing you down by your upper back when you tried to rise on your hands. 

“I’m sorry- Just one more, I promise, baby, one more.” He whined, positioning you how he wanted, with your legs squeezed together. The sight of his come rolling up your back into your cape had his cock twitching in need, so he slipped between your thighs and immediately started fucking you. There was enough come covering his length that the friction didn’t hurt, but honestly he could’ve used a little more friction, especially because the material of your suit had him sliding in and out easily. 

His hands moved to your hips, gripping tight enough to make you whimper so that they didn’t drift to your ass. Bucking into you as he desperately chased relief again, his eyes trailed all over your body, mostly focusing on your ass through the skin tight suit, but moving up your come covered back too. His balls slapping against your thighs with each thrust was almost starting to hurt, but he couldn’t stop— not even if he wanted to. 

“Oh god- I’m so close. Almost there, baby. Just one more I think— Just one more and I’ll feel better.” He choked out, bucking into you wildly. The sound of his wet pants hitting your wet suit was deafening on the otherwise quiet rooftop. When you squeezed your thighs together even harder, he let out a broken moan, cock throbbing, anxiously awaiting the pleasure. 

“Oh fuck-“ He groaned, cock twitching between your legs as his come shot out, painting your stomach. Quickly pulling back, he fucked his fist, watching as his come covered your ass and dripped down your thighs. “Shit,” He whimpered, when it just didn’t stop. It was less than his previous orgasms, but still enough that you were practically kneeling in a pool of his come. The last few spurts landed on his fist, dripping down his hand to the puddle on the ground as he panted, trying to catch his breath. 

Releasing his cock, he watched the way it still twitched pathetically, but despite that, he knew he was done. What he didn’t know however, was how he was going to clean all of this shit up. His cock was slick with his arousal, dripping down to his balls, adding to the mess on his pants. His hand and clothes were in a similar state. 

“Jay?” You asked quietly, making his eyes snap up to you. 

“Shit-“ He helped you up so you were sitting in front of him. The come that was on your stomach had rolled up to your chest, coating your tits, making him hiss as his cock twitched at the sight. You were practically covered head to toe in it. “I- Are you…” You flung yourself at his body, wrapping your arms tight around his torso in a hug. He tried not to focus on the way that his come would now be on his chest too. When you pulled back— way too soon, he thought with a frown— you slapped his arm, making him grab the slightly aching spot. 

“Ow- What the hell?” 

“You have a lot of fucking nerve to be asking me that when you’re the one who needs to start explaining.” You growled, crossing your arms over your chest with a scowl. 

“…You’re mad?” He asked sheepishly, watching your expression start to shift into one of amusement before you hardened it again. 

“You’re dead. What the fuck, Jason?” 

“I’m sorry. Can we just- go somewhere other than here and get cleaned up, then I’ll explain?” He asked, gesturing to the pool of come you were both in. A light blush painted your cheeks when you glanced at the mess. 

“Fine.” 

He took you to his safe house and apologized profusely, promising to clean your suit for you. Only once you were both dressed in his clothes and sat on the couch did you suddenly realize that Jason is in front of you. Jason who you haven’t seen in years, Jason who’s older now, but still just as pretty as the day you met him. Jason who you couldn’t save.

“How long have you been back?” You asked, trying to hide your emotions as you crossed your arms over your chest and cleared your throat.

“I’m sorry I didn’t find you sooner. I had to… work through some things.” You tried to wait patiently for him to explain, but it didn’t seem like he was going to do that anytime soon, so you continued.

“Tell me what happened. I don’t understand how you’re here right now.” He sighed, glancing away from you. 

“Do you know what the Lazarus Pit is?”

“The thing Ra’s Al Ghul uses, right?”

“Yeah… He- put me in it. That’s how I’m back.” He muttered. 

“Shit- are you okay?” You’ve heard the stories of what it can do to a person and your chest ached knowing that he went through something like that. 

“I’m alive.” He shrugged with a dry chuckle. 

“I’m sorry.” You moved to wrap your arms around him in a hug, but stopped when he leaned back. When he saw your hurt expression, he rushed to explain himself. 

“It’s not you! I just- I can already smell you from here and it’s taking everything in me to not do something I’ll regret. Again.” Your brows furrowed in confusion but when you glanced at his crotch, your eyes widened in understanding. 

“I don’t understand how you can still be hard after that. Actually- I don’t even understand how that was possible in the first place.” 

“I didn’t know it was possible either… When I came back, I was different— stronger, faster. I guess that changed too.” He explained and you nodded in understanding even though it still barely made sense to you. “Plus the last time I came was like a week before I died so it’s been a while.” 

“Jesus- Jason, tmi.” 

“That’s tmi?” He scoffed in disbelief. “I just fucking came on you three times and that’s too much?” 

“Oh my god- stop.” You muttered, burying your burning face in your hands. “Why did you wait so long though? I mean, I’m assuming you had at least a little bit of time after you came back.” 

“The thought never even crossed my mind. Not until— until I… saw you.” He mumbled the last part so you could barely hear it, but you did. “Look, I’m really fucking sorry. I know it’s not an excuse to say I couldn’t control myself, but even then, I still shouldn’t have done it.” 

“You don’t have to apologize.” 

“Are you kidding? I assaulted you!” He exclaimed, making you roll your eyes. 

“Okay well maybe my mess wasn’t nearly as bad as yours, but if you’d bothered to check, you would’ve found evidence to the contrary.” His eyes widened slightly, lips parted in shock. 

“You-“ His eyes moved down to your pants as if he’d be able to see what you were talking about.  “I don’t… What?” 

“You’re so clueless sometimes, you know that?” You chuckled, giving him a small smile. 

“I’m not.. clueless. I was just distracted.” He muttered, a blush painting his cheeks. 

“Uh huh. I have a question.” You said, changing the subject. 

“Shoot.”

“Why me? I’m sure you saw plenty of other girls throughout the years so why did I make you break?” His lips curled up into a small smile and you couldn’t help but feel like there was an inside joke you weren’t a part of. 

“You’re so clueless sometimes.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You frowned. 

“Jesus- I don’t know what job you have, but I really fucking hope you’re not a detective.” He chuckled and you hit his arm again. 

“Shut up. Just tell me.” His expression suddenly dropped into a more serious one and you felt anxiety start to twist in your stomach. 

“Because I’ve had a crush on you since we were like 14.” He muttered. You stared at him in shock and when he turned to finally look at you, you could see the moment where he realized he wanted to backtrack. “Which is really fucking awkward if you have a boyfriend or don’t feel the same way because I did not think this through nearly enough,” 

“Me too.” You said, putting an end to his rambling. 

“What?” He choked out. 

“I’ve had a crush on you too. But since we met, not since we were 14.” 

“You did?” 

“Yeah… Why did you think I was so fucking awkward around you?” You chuckled, making him smile. 

“I don’t know, I just thought you were awkward.” He shrugged. “Do you… still have a crush on me?” He asked coyly, as if he was giving himself the opportunity to pass it off as a joke. 

“I wouldn’t have let you come on me three times if I didn’t.” You said teasingly, your smile widening from his reaction. You liked turning the tables, making him blush for once. “Do you still have a crush on me?”

“I wouldn’t have come on you three times if I didn’t.” 

[yellowflwrss]

“i’m so sorry baby”;dick grayson

• in which dick does the “shut up” prank on his girlfriend while she’s already having a bad day

- fluff but some angst

it had been all over tik tok, an app dick was constantly on when he wasn’t patrolling or beating people’s asses, annoying his siblings or girlfriend. it was videos of boyfriends doing a prank on their girlfriend, secretly filming in a car or in their houses as their girlfriend walks in and says something. they then cut them off with a “shut up.”

obviously, the prank can go many ways, getting amusing reactions out of the girlfriend and a funny video whenever it ends well. knowing how you are, dick wanted to see how’d you react to this prank specifically. you were sarcastic and kind and your attitude was probably what he loved the most about you. so, he was beyond excited to see what you’d say to him.

earlier that day, you had asked dick to pick you up from your nail appointment. first you had work but your boss said you’d get out early that day (for whatever reason you didn’t care to remember) and you had arranged to get your nails done afterwards for fun.

dick was going to arrive an hour earlier than he did, but he received a text from you simply asking if he could pick you up a little later, and of course dick agreed. he’s do anything for you.

parked outside the nail place he had gotten familiar with over time, dick decided to set up his phone to film the prank. a few moments later he saw you walk out of the nail salon and his smile brightened, the camera catching it all. when he saw you get closer his smile dropped, getting into character. dick unlocked your door and you sat in, putting your bag by your feet and getting comfortable. you didn’t seem as enthusiastic as he thought you would after getting your nails done, but dick continued on either way.

“hey babe. how was your day?” your face adorned a small smile.

“it was good.” was all he said. your face barely dropped, but it did nonetheless. you were confused as to why dick hadn’t asked you the same thing, when without fail that’s what he did.

“that’s good. sorry my nails took a little longer than usual, my boss made me—“ that’s when it was dick’s cue to cut you off, and oh he felt so bad.

“just shut up (y/n),” he felt like such a shitty boyfriend but he was too far in for the prank to back out now.” without looking at your face cause he knew he’d break character, dick continued “just—just shut up.” he shook his head and placed it onto the steering wheel.

your face had dropped to one of sorrow. the camera had captured you looking so sad at your boyfriend’s words and you felt so hurt. “oh. okay.” was all you said as you resulted to staring at your lap as you held back the tears that were threatening to spill out.

when all dick heard was silence for a second or two, he pulled his head to look at yours. and he knew he couldn’t go any longer when he noticed the state you were in. “baby—“ he started, about to apologize.

that’s when you started balling, tears streaming down your face as it covered the “sorry” that he repeated alongside a few apologetic words. your makeup soon got messed up as you rubbed the back of your hands to stop the tears from flowing, crying even harder when you noticed your makeup was messed up too.

dick tried to grab ahold of your hand as you cried, embarrassed. you pulled away and reached for the doorknob. not because you were mad at dick but because you were embarrassed, you felt like a child. before you could open the door, dick had reached over and pulled you to him onto his lap with two hands.

if it were any other situation, you’d be blushing and fawning over what your boyfriend had just done. but it wasn’t that situation. and despite the words he said to you, you buried your head into his neck as you cried some more. at that point you weren’t crying because of him, you were crying because of the day you just had.

“baby i’m so sorry. it was a prank—one of those tik tok pranks. i didn’t mean it at all.” he held your head as you slowly stopped the tears, still with your eyes full. dick killed your forehead and the top of your head then your cheeks and grabbed your hands softly and with care and kissed them as well.

“babe your nails look so beautiful, what’s wrong?” he keeps his grip tight but caresses your face, wiping the black mascara tears from your face.

hiccuping, you shook your head, “no, it’s fine don’t worry—“

“(y/n) tell me, i’m here to listen. do i need to beat anyone up? you know i’ll do it gorgeous.”

scoffing with a smile, you shook your head and intertwined your fingers with dick’s as you continued to sit on his lap in his car and tell him the reason for your bad mood.

“it was going all good. but then i had to stay longer to do some extra work that my boss assigned me. i hated it cause i wanted to get my nails done and see you. and then i had to call my nail salon and tell them to push it to a little later if they could—thank god they could or else i’d probably still be waiting to get them done.” you sniffled from crying earlier and continued on, “then the person who usually does my nails was sick and i had to have someone else do it. but they messed up my nails and i thought it was a quick fix so i asked if they could change a certain thing on it because im paying for their time and id charge them extra and everything.” you started to get teary eyed again and with a small squeeze of your hand from dick, you continued on with your story.

then the person doing my nails scoffed at me and rolled her eyes then started talking shit about me to their coworkers in their language. but i understood the language they were speaking. and i felt like shit.” you started to softly cry once again “i felt so bad to make them do it again and they were also making fun of me and everything else. a-and when i was thanking them profusely and all that, they all rolled their eyes at me and i payed them extra because i felt guilty. and they were just so rude. then when you said this to me i just had enough.” you were now spilling out tears once more.

“baby, it’s all okay don’t worry. those idiots are so rude. you don’t deserve any of that. and i’m so so sorry for what i said, the prank. you don’t deserve any of it you’re too sweet and you’re the best girlfriend, i’m so sorry.”

you smiled and ran your freshly manicured fingers through your boyfriend’s hair. “it’s okay dick. i forgive you. i probably would’ve forgiven you anyway.”

“i know you would’ve which sucks even more. i feel so bad. let’s go home and watch criminal minds with chocolate. and let’s cuddle. you’re getting so many kisses.” he profusely tried to say things he knew would make his girlfriend happy. even if being around him made her happy enough.

your eyes lit up and you wiped your face in fear of how you currently looked because of how much you previously cried. “i love criminal minds.” you whispered in excitement. over the past few weeks, dick had been so busy whenever the two of you had down time, so you weren’t able to chill out and be a lazy couple of couch potatoes. so when you heard this you were so happy.

with the same energy you currently had, dick said, “i know, you love criminal minds.”

“i love you.” your eyes looked lovingly into his.

“i love you more, and im so sorry for earlier baby.” even though your eyes were glued to dick and your mind was blank with the fact that you had such an amazing boyfriend, dick was practically 10x more in love with you, no matter how much you said you loved him more. his heart hurt when you hurt and when you were happy, he was even happier.

—

you had given dick permission to post the tik tok. he felt so bad about it but you kind of found it cute how much he visibly cared in the tik tok. and you were also greatful the camera didn’t catch what you thought was an ugly crying face.

user1 STOP THIS IS SO CUTE???

user2 i wonder what bruce thought of this

therdh00d dick head you should get canceled for making her cry

imbatman tell (y/n) i said hello

imbatman you’re an imbecile for making (y/n) cry.

(later on, dick found out that it was damian using bruce’s private tik tok account to text these messages)

[kimjun]

YN: *struggling to open a jar*

Jason: *watches from afar, but says nothing*

YN: Would you open for fucks-

YN: *gives up and walks over to Jason, silently holding the jar out to him*

Jason: *opens the jar with no trouble*

YN: …

Jason: …

YN: I loosened it

Jason: Of course

YN: You wouldn’t have been able to open it without my help

Jason: Didn’t think otherwise

YN: That’s what I thought…

[bruhseidon]

Y/N, excitedly: Let’s put on some eyeshadow! [puts eyeshadow on one of Jason’s eye, then pauses when she sees the result]

Y/N (in her mind): He looks like he got punched…

Jason, oblivious and still trusting: Hey, do that half-face makeup thing they do on magazines! I want to see the before and after!

Y/N, nervous: O-Okay. I’ll do one of your cheeks, then.

Cassandra, worried but trying to be optimistic: You can really tell you’re wearing makeup when you put on blush. It’s nice!

[Y/N puts blush on Jason’s cheek, then she and Cassandra both pause when they see the result]

Y/N (in her mind): Now he looks like he got punched twice…

Jason, happily: How do I look?

Y/N: You look… cute.

[Bruce passes by and gasps in shock when he sees Jason’s beat up look, and Jason gasps in embarrassment when he realizes Bruce saw him with a face full of makeup]

[girlkisser13]

love tropes with the bat family

characters: bruce wayne, richard "dick" grayson, barbara gordon, jason todd, timothy "tim" drake, stephanie brown, cassandra cain, duke thomas, and damian wayne

bruce wayne

arranged marriage

• the marriage was arranged by his parents and your parents to merge the two most powerful families in gotham, providing both financial stability and social influence. bruce only went along with it because he wanted to honor his parents’ last wishes.

• initially, there's a distance between the two of you. he’s so consumed by his quest for justice and his role as batman, that he doesn’t really have the time to truly get to know you. meanwhile, you’re just trying to understand your role in his life.

• publicly, the two of maintain the appearance of the perfect, high-society couple, attending galas and charity events. behind closed doors, the two of you sleep in separate beds and barely talk to one another.

• alfred becomes a mentor and confidant to the both of you, helping your navigate your new life together and offering uncle iroh level advice.

• it isn’t until you get hurt, that he begins to realize the depth of his feelings for you.

• DEFINITELY says the, "who did this to you?" line.

• this marriage brings a new dynamic to his life. you have your own skills and resources and you become an integral part of his crime-fighting efforts.

• your presence in his life helps him heal emotionally, offering him a sense of family and home. this support strengthens him, making him a more balanced and effective hero.

• you both work towards a shared vision for gotham, combining your immense resources and influence to create lasting change, honoring the legacies of both your families. <33

richard "dick" grayson

you fell first, he fell harder

• charming and attractive, it’s hard to not fall in love with dick grayson. he’ll flirt and send compliments someone’s way, effectively tampering with their feelings. it’s no surprise when you find yourself having romantic feelings for him.

• despite your best efforts to keep your feelings hidden, dick starts noticing the little things—how you laugh at his jokes a bit too eagerly, how your eyes linger on him a bit longer, and how you're always there to lend a hand.

• as you spend more time together, you can't help but be more obvious about your feelings. you find excuses to be near him, offer to help with his missions, and bring him coffee during late-night patrols.

• one day, during a particularly dangerous mission, you do something reckless to save him. that’s the final push he needs to confront and confess his feelings for you.

• ANGRY LOVE CONFESSIONS>>>

• he never noticed you. but now that he had, he couldn't un-notice you.

• once you find your way into his heart, it’s hard for him to let you go. more and more, he starts finding himself constantly wishing for your presence.

• he constantly tells you how much you mean to him and how he can't imagine his life without you.

• this man met you, fell in love with you, and has been falling ever since. <33

barbara gordon

the korrasami trope (i didn’t know what else to call it)

• both of you had feelings for dick, but he ultimately chose you. after he made his decision, she began to act extremely cold towards you.

• despite this, you constantly went out of your way to ensure that she didn’t feel left out. you included her in activities and made an effort to show her that your relationship with dick didn’t have to affect your friendship with her.

• she becomes jealous when she sees you and dick together and for the longest time, she thought she was jealous of you because you were him. she soon realizes that she was actually jealous of HIM because he was with you.

• during the times when dick was busy with his duties as nightwing, the two of you would often find yourselves alone together. these moments of forced proximity brought you closer, and that’s when she started to develop feelings for you.

• you start to notice subtle changes in her behavior around you. she becomes more attentive, goes out of her way to spend time with you, and shows a genuine interest in your well-being.

• she struggles with her feelings for you, torn between her loyalty to dick because of their friendship and her growing love for you.

• girlie is down HORRENDOUSLY for you. <33

jason todd

enemies to lovers

• you hate jason, he hates you. just the thought of him irritates your whole being, shakes your bones in anger, his name leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

•this man will NEVER stop bothering you, he likes to see you stressed out and angry, but he lowkey thinks it’s cute that’s why he likes to piss you off.

• you intrigue him, when he started to bother you he was legit hating on you but as time flew by, he somehow liked your attention on him.

• being an annoying piece of shit= your attention.

• despite your differences and the fact that you and jason mixed like oil and water, on in the field, you guys grudgingly tolerated each other, working together to take out your enemies.

• the tension between the two of you is so thick that during mission briefs, bruce has to seat you guys across the room from each other, unless he wants to hear mumbled insults back and forth and glaring between you guys.

• the rest of the bat family teases the two of you relentlessly because they’re convinced that you guys are the perfect match for one another (they’re absolutely right).

• when he finally realizes that he has feelings for you, he tries to convince himself that he doesn’t in fact like you romantically but that he was just admiring your skills in the field.

• he actually finds himself looking out for you on missions, even though he won’t be upfront about it.

• he becomes somewhat awkward to be around, and the rest of the bat family immediately capitalize off this to bully him with it. but regardless, he finds himself drifting towards you a bit more, and picking up on some of your habits. as much as he hates to admit it, he wants to know more about you. <33

timothy "tim" drake

friends to lovers

• tim heavily values trust and loyalty. as friends, you’ve always been someone he can rely on, whether it's sharing secrets or working through problems together.

• despite being one of his best friends, he isn't overly expressive with his emotions. he shows his affection through small, thoughtful gestures – bringing you coffee, remembering your favorite snacks, or staying up late to help you with something.

• he gradually comes to the realization that he has feelings for you. once it hits him, he begins to avoid you, trying to process everything.

• however, he starts to get like physically sick because he misses you so much. plus, you called him to ask if they'd done anything wrong and the pain in your voice was too much for him to bear.

• it was impossible to ignore the change in his behaviour. for one, he couldn't speak to you in person without his face turning blindingly red. plus, not only does he struggle to look you in the eye, but he is also CONSTANTLY stuttering around you.

• when you decide to confront him about it, he kind of just blurts out that he’s in love to you. much to his genuine surprise (but literally no one else's), you told him that they loved him too.

• sometimes, he feels like an idiot for not saying or doing something about it sooner. you frequently tease him for not having picked up on his own feelings sooner— but for once, he graciously accepts it. <33

stephanie brown

fake dating

• after your ex breaks up with you, steph devises a plan to get back at them and make them jealous.

• the two of you were already best friends so it couldn’t be that hard. right? RIGHT?

• you’re both aware that damian doesn’t buy your little arrangement one bit. he just doesn’t believe that the two of you are dating because you’re such good friends. (and they were roommates!!!)

• steph has this raging pride when it comes to damian, so she’s made it her personal mission to convince him that you and her are actually dating.

• it takes a while for you two to get into the hang of it, but once you do, it’s like a regular routine.

• steph would definitely fall for you first. she’d hide her feelings behind your little charade, until the fake dating stuff starts extending into the time you two share together when no one else is watching.

• she still gravitates towards you on the couch when everyone has left after dinner at your place, pressing kisses to your cheek when she leaves even though everyone else is already gone. there’s no need to continue acting like this but she does.

• the fake dating thing really starts hurting her because she thinks that you don’t really like her like that (you do) but its nice to pretend that you do in those moments, that it’s all real even though it's not.

• the people who know of your secret knows that steph has fallen for you (except for steph herself, and you because you refuse to believe it).

• like, come on, she’s your BEST FRIEND (side eye). the two of you are idiots in love.

• the moment she realizes she’s in love with you is on another one of those dates that you both know you don’t have to go on but still choose to have anyway (your ex is already clearly jealous).

• she’s been getting this small tugging feeling with you a lot over these past few months.

• now she finally realizes it’s because she’s in love with you. <33

cassandra cain

childhood best friends to lovers

• growing up, you became adept at reading her body language and expressions, creating a deep, intuitive understanding between the two of you.

• as kids, you both trained together, pushing each other to become stronger and better. these sessions were filled with friendly competition, laughter, and mutual support.

• you two had a secret hideout where you would escape to whenever the world felt overwhelming. it was a place filled with memories, laughter, and dreams for the future.

• whenever she had nightmares or struggled with her past, you were always there to comfort her. your presence became a source of peace and security for her.

• you both shared a love for a watching old martial arts films and cooking together. these activities brought you even closer over the years.

• once she was settled into her new life with the bat family, she reconnected with you over lunch and there was a moment where it all clicked. her heart nearly gave out the moment she saw you walk through the cafe door and smiled at her.

• she was in love with you. she had been for a while now. but back then, she had taken your presence for granted. it was something she just expected to be there. but now? now it was different. now it made sense.

• it was a very natural progression from a friendship to a relationship. she felt safe with you, and she never had to worry about being misunderstood. after everything that she’s been through, you were the person who stood by her through all of it. <33

duke thomas

brother’s best friend

• one thing about you and duke is that you can both take a secret to your grave.

• no one ever finds about him sneaking out of your brother’s room during their weekend sleepovers, to cuddle up to you on your bed.

• no one finds out about the secret dates you go on in the next town over, so that you don’t get caught.

• no one finds out about the secret phones you both use to contact each other.

• if you have to be in the same room together, he’s not even making any eye contact with you. it’s better to ignore each other in public.

• it would be WAY too obvious that the two of you are dating.

• when you guys are seven months into the relationship, cuddling on his bed, he asks "how long do you want to keep us a secret?"

• to which you reply, "not any longer than you want to."

• so yeah, you can both keep a secret– until you decide you want to share it to the world.

• your brother is disgusted, but happy for you. emphasis on disgusted tho. <33

damian wayne

academic rivals to lovers (except he’s been in love with you this whole time)

• damian has always admired you from afar. everything from your biting wit to your competitive spirit always made his heart flutter. falling in love with you was almost inevitable.

• sarcastic, creative remarks as comebacks to one another’s argument, teasing and joking words that lead to banters and bickering.

you: "are you reading?"

damian: "it’s amazing how you have eyes but never see the use of them."

• you don’t know if it’s due to your clashing beliefs and ideas that you two just can’t get along. or is it because he just refuses to do so? eitherway, he still irks you off in multiple ways. even when it’s just the sound of his breathing.

• the two of you compete against each other in terms of being the best among you, as such your relationship is treated as something simply born and made by a competition, an unnatural way to form a connection with another but that’s just how it is.

• the fact that you two work really well when it comes to projects and research is something that can’t be denied. even when there are countless arguments being shared because of differences in opinion, you two still end up getting the work done flawlessly.

• despite everything, there was never a time that you two have touched on a sensitive subject while arguing or have you two have said anything personal and mean that it crossed the line. it’s just some useless and close-to-nothing banters that always occur— becoming a part of your daily routine.

• and of course, the two of you don’t lose your sense of academic "rivalry" when you two start dating. <33

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being the youngest Gotham Knight

Gotham Knights x reader

warnings:

a/n:

prompt: anonymous: “For a Gotham Knights headcannon game request please: Being the youngest of the Knights, who they are all protective of?”

you weren’t new to the vigilante business

but thay didn’t stop your makeshift family from worrying over you

“hey, if i died, you can die too” -jason

“do you know how crazy that sounds? like can you hear yourself? repeat it” -you

bruce being gone also really affected that feeling of immortality you guys had with the masks on

“y/n should be the lookout” -dick

“that’s the third time this week!” -you

“you just have really good eyesight” -dick

certain villains really loved you

like harley

“kid! how the hell are ya? oh—sorry. didn’t mean to say any bad words around the baby, how the heck are ya?” -harley, in lockup

“ha ha, very funny” -you, sarcastically

“i get that a lot” -harley

the knights tried to give you a curfew lol

“we are literally vigilantes. why would you give me a curfew” -you

“well, you’re…growing? you need rest” -barbara

“we’re just making sure you’re not overworked. now that bruce is gone, we’re making sure you’re on a better schedule” -dick

“HAH! we were all child soldiers and suddenly we’re setting bedtimes? y/n can stay out late, this is stupid” -jason

“as y/n���s legal guardian, i think it would be better if they went to bed a tad earlier” -alfred

“you guys are messing with me” -you

“maybe a little” -alfred

you loved the belfry honestly

sometimes you’d pass out on the couch watching tv and one of the batsibs would “tuck you in” and take pictures

you and jason like to play the racing game together to beat the high score

“ohhh my god. we’re never gonna beat bruces score” -you

“do you think it’s wrong to try to beat a dead man’s high score?” -jason

“you tell me, would you be mad if i beat your high score when you were dead?” -you

“i’d be mad if you beat my high score in general” -jason

the crew telling you you’re “too young to drink coffee”

“if im old enough to fight clayface im old enough to have a cup of coffee” -you

“i mean, that’s a sound argument” -dick

“it’s a wonder you’re all standing after being raised by bruce” -barbara

“in y/n’s defense, i was drinking coffee when i was younger than them” -tim

“ohhh, so that’s why you’re so short” -jason

hourly check ins

“y/v/n, come in, are you alive” -barbara

“yes, i am alive” -you

“great! can you check out this warehouse real quick?” -barbara

“threat level?” -you

“uhhh, zero” -barbara

“booooo, i wanna punch something” -you

“maybe next time” -barbara

taglist: @summersimmerus //

[arjudy224]

Chemical Valley

(The Intern x Red Hood)

After the unsettling reminder of her past, Y/N has been avoiding vigilantes for the last few months. However, Dr. Harris has requested backup in the form of Gotham's newest crime lord. What could go wrong?

The Intern Collection:

Prequel: Death of a family

The Intern: Day one

The Intern: The Laughing Fish

The Intern: Busy Work

The Intern: Outreach Gala

The Intern: Visiting an old friend

The Intern: Chemical Valley

The Intern: Billionaire Boys Club

I'm getting real sick of risking my life for a minimum-wage job. Driving around with Dr. Harris is one thing, but since when did the job description list teaming up with crime lords? I mean it's the Red Hood for Christ's sake. Dr. Harris gives me a protective smile from the driver's seat.

"Don't worry about Red Hood. He knows what he's doing." He starts sensing my apprehension. "Besides, he owes me a favor."

I nod with a nervous smile. Red Hood is the only vigilante that I've never interacted with. He only recently appeared in Gotham. From what I've heard on the streets, he isn't exactly on great terms with Batman.

"All due respect... hasn't he killed people? " I question glancing around the lonely alleyway.

Growing silent, Harris contemplates his response.

"Not recently." He says with what is supposed to be a comforting pat on the shoulder.

Trying to ignore the anxiety creating knots across my gut, I reply with more enthusiasm than I feel.

"Oh well... that's progress."

Harris laughs.

"It's Gotham dear. It's hard to find someone who hasn't committed murder. I wouldn't worry too much about the Hood though. If you can befriend Waylon, a little boy in a helmet is the least of your worries. "

I raise an eyebrow.

"You wanna elaborate?"

He smiles sweetly. I narrow my eyes.

"Don't ask questions that you don't want to know the answers to."

That shuts me up. We sit in silence for a few minutes while I contemplate what he just said. Dr. Harris isn't exactly wrong... Glancing at the time clock on the dashboard, I frown. I guess vigilantes aren't known for being punctual, but at least Nightwing was on time. Considering our history, maybe we were both eager to see each other again. I try to focus on the cool air dusting across my face.

A swift knock causes me to jump. The infamous Red Hood almost cartoonishly waves at me from the outside the window. My nervous heart patters like a hummingbird. Eyeing his bike, I sigh. It was silent... Of course, it was silent. What kind of muffler does he have on that thing?

Harris rolls down the window.

"Good morning. Thank you for meeting us."

Leaning on the car door, Red Hood asks in a deep voice

"What do you have for me Dr.?"

"Routine inspection of Ace chemicals. Normally, I wouldn't worry about having a backup, but with an uptick in Joker sightings... I figured it would be better to be safe than sorry."

Hood nods, then glances in my direction.

"I'll keep an eye out."

"Y/N L/N," I say introducing myself, "But most people call me L/N."

"Weren't you the one who convinced the Riddler to let you go in exchange for inspecting his lair for asbestos?" Hood asks with a tone of pride.

I smile while shaking his hand. Word must get around quick.

"Yeah, that's me. He didn't even ask me any riddles. The poor man was terrified."

Dr. Harris whips his head around.

"Why haven't I heard about this?" He demands.

I flash him a shit-eating grin.

"Don't ask questions you don't want to know the answers to Dr. Maybe Metropolis hasn't made me so soft after all."

Before he can start lecturing me, I step out of the car to face my new bodyguard. Keeping my eyes trained on the ground. I sidestep the hulking mammoth of a man.

"Thank you for dropping me off Dr., but I'm sure "Little" Red and I can take it from here."

From the Driver's seat, Harris watches me with a hint of pride.

"This is not the last time we will be discussing this."

"I look forward to the debrief," I remark as he pulls away.

The ACE chemicals manufacturing plant towers over the surrounding buildings. The smoke stacks excrete a dark sticky aerosol that trickles down from above. Its gothic structure makes it look like something out of a Tim Burton film. Taking a step near the external shutter, I drag my index finger across. My glove smears a damp power off revealing the old white paint. An uncomfortable sensation settles in my chest.

There is no way this amount of air pollution is legal.

After my second round of coughing, Red Hood offers me a disposable face mask. I gratefully take it. The neon green sign serves as a haunting reminder that somehow this has passed inspection. My eyebrows narrow. We passed several kids on the way here. What does that do to someone? No wonder Dr. Harris mentioned childhood asthma. I'm more concerned about the long-term exposure to industrial solvents.

Glancing at Red Hood, I state

"There is no way this is legal."

Red Hood stays quiet for a moment. Adjusting his helmet, he replies

"The law can be anything you want as long as you kill the inspectors who challenge you."

My mouth falls open. A thousand questions flood my mind.

"Somebody must have tried."

Hood tilts his head while glancing between us and the doors.

"Somebody did try."

Tossing me a key card over his shoulder, he continues, "You can visit them in Arkham if you want."

I flounder to catch the key card. It takes a few moments to register his words. Them as in more than one? Or is he concealing their identity? By the time my brain focuses, I stand in the alley alone staring up at a sign for a trading card company.

Isn't that where the Joker.... Oh hell no...

Stumbling through the stained doors, a bubbly man contrasts the bleak external welcome. As he rambles, I analyze the faded posters nailed to the wall. Dr. Harris briefly mentioned the factory's history of producing bioweapons during the Second World War. Hazardous feels like an understatement. I nodd along with the pleasant man, yet something in my gut tells me to keep my eyes and ears open.

Walking past a dust cloud, my lungs contract. Unable to steady myself, I sneak down a back hall to take my inhaler. The rambling man continues down the other hallway completely oblivious to my absence. I tear the disposable mask off my face. Searching my pockets for the familiar medication, my heart drops. Of course, I left it in the car.

I sink into a seated position once the dizziness sets in. Do. Not. Panic. We cannot do that again. No more emergency room trips. A pair of boots emerges from the shadows.

"Are you alright?"

I nodd while focusing on each labored breath.

"Sometimes, I really hate this city." I wheeze clutching my chest.

Red Hood lets out a dry laugh before taking a seat next to me.

"I have something that might help, but you have to trust me."

A small inhaler makes its way into my left hand. Squinting, a small Bat engraving stares up at me. I give him an incredulous glance. There is no fucking way that Batman has a pharmacy.

"It works. I promise."

Reluctantly, I take two puffs. We sit in silence for a few minutes. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. I relish the first full breath of air in days. My lungs expand completely. It is glorious.

"How is your friendship with Killer Croc?"

The immense pain that weighs on my chest lessens slightly.

"I'm sure Waylon wouldn't use the word friend. "

I open my eyes to look at him. Spots litter my vision. The sticky residue has left grime all over his mask. I hesitate.

"Waylon has lost everything... Everyone really. All he really needed was a friend."

Hood stays silent weighing out my words.

"What factory did they make you in?" He questions.

I can almost hear a smile in his voice.

"The same one that kicked you out for defects." I retort staring at the white paint peeling on the far left wall.

Considering the age of this building, I really hope that's not lead paint.

"Touché, Ms. Friendship. Touché"

I give him a friendly shove.

"You know, you aren't as bad as your reputation suggests."

He laughs climbing to his feet.

"I wouldn't go that far. Usually, I'm a dick."

"Better a dick than a sociopath," I say dusting off the black power on my pants.

"Damn Metropolis. Who have you been talking to?"

I shrug.

"It's Gotham. "

After a few moments of friendly silence, he asks

"You ready to find Mr. Optimistic?"

I nodd allowing him to pull me to my feet. Enjoying the comfortable silence, I open the door for him once we make it down the hall. To my surprise, Red Hood slams me against a wall before covering my mouth. Paralyzed in shock, I don't fight him. The Red Bat insignia stares at me. The soft aroma of his cologne catches me off guard. It's nice. Very musky. There's something so... familiar about it. I suddenly feel my face go red. There is no way I am evaluating how good a CRIMINAL smells. Get a grip girl.

Ignoring my mental crisis, Red Hood leads the two of us out the back door. Stumbling out the door behind him, I bend over holding my knees for stability. This is a lot of cardio for a regular inspection.

"What the hell was that about dude?" I hiss in between breaths.

Red Hood doesn't say anything.

"I know you are trying for the strong and silent type, but I think this partnership would benefit from open communication."

Standing up tall, a gunman aims a pistol directly at my temple.

Oh.. That's why.

Tag list: @nosyrobin, @jjsmeowthie, @epicy0n,@gaychaosgremlin, @rory-cakes, @luna-zendra-star

[nylpad]

BETRAYAL

Warnings: Healing process, Emotional turmoil, Cheating, Relationship dynamics

In the heart of Gotham, a city that never truly sleeps, the Wayne Manor stood silent, its usual vibrant life dimmed by a shroud of betrayal and sorrow. Here begins a tale of a family torn apart, a story of love lost and the quest for redemption.

For twelve years, you were the cornerstone of the Wayne family. As the Batmom, you provided love and warmth to a home that was often too caught up in the night. But the discovery of Damian, Bruce's son with Talia al Ghul, was a secret too heavy for your heart to bear. The revelation shattered the trust and the life you had built with Bruce.

Your departure left a void in Wayne Manor that no amount of wealth or comfort could fill. The Batkids, Dick, Jason, Tim, and even young Damian, felt the sting of abandonment. They couldn't fathom how Bruce, their father and mentor, could have been so reckless, so careless with the most precious part of their lives—you.

Without your guiding hand, the Manor descended into chaos. Alfred, the faithful butler, watched helplessly as the family he served with unwavering loyalty crumbled. The dinners went unattended, the laughter ceased, and the unity once shared was now just a memory.

Bruce was left to face the consequences of his actions. The Batcave, once a sanctuary, now echoed with the haunting realization of his mistake. He had fought so hard against the villains of Gotham, only to become the villain in his own home.

The road to healing was long and arduous. Bruce knew he had to make amends, not as the Batman, but as a father and a husband. The Batkids, each dealing with their own sense of betrayal, slowly began to understand the complex man that was their father.

It took time, but eventually, Bruce began to mend the bonds he had broken. He reached out to you, not to ask for a return, but to offer a heartfelt apology, to show that he understood the depth of pain he had caused.

[tsuvvy]

Damian would never admit it but he actually loves coloring with little sister reader 😚 It’s such a nice stress reliever for him after a chaotic day as a teenage vigilante. Would love to see you write this!!

Color Therapy

Pairing: Damian Wayne x youngest sibling reader

Summary: Damian couldn't deny you were sweeter than you put yourself off to be. And, coloring was more therapeutic than he was expecting.

Warnings: Mentions of you living on Gotham streets and being homeless, mention of robberies, nothing really bad in this though

Word Count: 1.2k

You were an odd kid, that's for sure. You were younger than Damian, about a year or two, so he had expected someone more.. Childlike.

But you were an indifferent kid. You obviously came from a rough background, having grown up on the streets of Gotham. But still. His point stands when he was expecting someone more childlike.

You never reacted to the glares or scowls you received from him. You only returned his mean, annoyed gazes with a calm, unconcerned one of your own. Slowly, Damian had stopped giving you these scowls and glares.

And slowly, his school and vigilante work started to take up most of his time. He'd started visiting the library more often to study for his exams and finish his homework. And with that, he noticed something. He'd noticed it was common for him to find you within the library with a sheet of paper and just some highlighters. Usually, he'd just ignore your presence and sit elsewhere in the library.

He doesn't know why, but. He just started sitting with you. Neither of you would say a word. You would just sit in the comfortable silence filled with your coloring of highlighters on paper, and Damian’s typing of keys on his computer and turning of book pages.

“Y/n,” he finally spoke your name after a few days. You looked up at him. “Why do you only have highlighters?”

You looked down at your piece of paper for a second before saying, “They were all I could find.” You looked back up at him. Damian and you left that conversation there.

But the next time he came to the library, he dropped a pack of nice colored pencils in front of you.

You stared at the pencils for a moment before looking up at him. He caught your gaze.

“What?” He asked, looking back down at the book he had for his homework.

“Wanna color with me?” You asked abruptly. It made Damian pause in his tracks. He looked up at you, his gaze flitting to your paper, the highlighters, and the colored pencils he'd just given you.

“No.” He said, looking back at his book. But something kept him from reading. “Thank you, though..” His voice was quieter.

Nights like this tired Damian out. It was a stressful night. It was just supposed to be a patrol. But there were a string of robberies out of seemingly nowhere. He was exhausted.

And now he was slugging throughout the halls. He yawned just as he passed an agape door. He glanced through the crack. And what he saw made him stop in his tracks.

You were laying on the floor of your room coloring with the pencils he had given you. He didn't know why he stepped forward to your door. And he didn't know why he pushed it open.

You looked up at him. And he looked back at you. You seem to understand what even Damian couldn't.

“Wanna color?” You asked again like you had earlier.

Damian glanced down the hall to his room before looking back at you and your coloring stuff.

“Fine..” He gave in, stepping into your room and sitting on the floor across from you. He took the paper you handed him and grabbed a few colored pencils from the box you had moved closer to him.

It took him a moment to decide what he wanted to draw. But when he began to draw, it was weird.

His head was empty and it just seemed so.. Simple? He was calm..

“Can I use the red?” You asked, your hand was out awaiting for the red pencil.

“Yeah,” He put the red colored pencil in your hand.

Damian sighed as he put a textbook he had acquired from math on the library table.

Damian glanced at you from across the table, you were coloring like always. Then he looked down at his homework. He didn't want to do this. He never did. Homework was annoying. And you seemed to read his mind, because without even looking at him, you passed him a sheet of paper and moved the box closer to him.

Damian closed his computer and stood up from his seat. He moved to one next to you so you could both share the pencils better.

Damian could practically feel his stress and annoyance slowly wash off of him.

“Purple please,” You asked him.

“Mhm,” He hummed, finishing the area he needed to with the purple before he placed it into your hand.

“Damian,” you called his name within the halls of school.

“What?” He looked down at you when you took up pace with him.

“All the colored pencils in the box you gave me are short and hard to use now,” You told him, looking up at him.

“Alright,” He looked ahead, “I’ll get some more, then.”

“Could you get a bigger box with more variety in colors?” You asked.

“Yeah, I can.” He nodded.

“Thank you!” You said, hugging his arm abruptly before running off to class, joining a few kids you had made at the very least acquaintances with.

The way you hugged his arm startled him, he hadn’t expected it. He watched you run off, his heart feeling like it’s blooming like a flower.

Damian dropped the box in front of you where you sat on the floor of your room. He took a seat across from you much like he had the first time he joined you for coloring.

You looked at the back where the names of all the colors were, and sure enough, there was more of a variety like you had requested.

You passed him a piece of paper and put the box in between you two so you both could reach it.

“Why do you color so much?” Damian asked you.

“My head is quiet when I do.” You replied.

Damian paused in his coloring, looking up at you. “What do you think about when you don’t?”

You were quiet for a moment. “What I saw growing up on the streets of Gotham.” He didn’t need you to go into detail to know what that short sentence implied.

He looked backed down at his sheet of paper. He put the pencil he had down.

“Are you using the light green?” He asked. You shook your head and handed him the light green pencil.

You two were quiet for awhile. Silently coloring in a comfortable silence.

“You know you’re safe here, right?” He looked at you, and you finally looked back at him. “You’re here for good, you aren’t going anywhere.”

You stayed quiet.

“You’re safe here.”

You stayed quiet.

“Say something.”

“Thank you.”

Damian looked back down at his sheet of paper at your words, taking it as your understanding of his words.

Damian usually thinks of his own traumas when nothing occupies his brain. Or he’s doing homework. Or he’s fighting crime.

He doesn’t often give himself moments of peace.

But when he’s coloring with you in a comfortable silence like he is now. It’s like for once, a moment of peace washes over him.

He hated to admit it. But you and your dumb coloring were nice. It was nice for him to finally have a quiet moment.

Damian hates being vulnerable, and he feels almost vulnerable.

But he couldn’t deny it anymore. These moments were therapeutic.