Summary: Kinktober Day 18 - Dom/Sub. A breakout from Arkham, must be a day that ends in Y in the city of Gotham. Among the chaos, Scarecrow seeks you out, determined not to let Batgirl get one over on him the way you did last time. Easier said than done. | AO3 link.
Note: Follow-up to Be Cruel To Me ('Cause I'm a Fool for You). Woman reader, but no other descriptors are used. Mean!Batgirl makes a comeback with this one, yay!
Word count: 1.6k
Warnings: Obsession, way undernegotiated kink. Sexually explicit content involving femdom, degradation, bondage, handjobs, and cum eating.
Between Bruce's contacts as Batman and his surveillance throughout the city, he always knew when something happened at Arkham long before anything hit the news. Being summoned to the Bat Cave wasn't exactly how you were planning to spend your Friday night, but Gotham needed Batgirl, even though Batgirl needed three shots of tequila and a night at the club.
Still, you watched intently as Bruce went over the details of the escapees, their names and photos appearing on the screen in rapid succession. Your lips twitched when you saw the all-too familiar face of Jonathan Crane appear. God, you thought about that face between your thighs almost every night since then. Long gone were the fear toxin-induced nightmares, Scarecrow almost exclusively occupied your wet dreams.
"Batgirl," Bruce said, pulling you from your wandering fantasies, "I know you can handle Scarecrow."
Understatement of the year.
You nodded. "On it."
It didn't take long to track him down in The Narrows, and you couldn't shake the sinking feeling that Scarecrow wanted to you find him, didn't want to waste any time in potentially getting you in his clutches. Bracing yourself as you entered the furniture warehouse, workers long since having left for the night, it was a maze in the pitch dark. You hesitated to use your flashlight, for fear of giving yourself away even though you already secured a gas mask over your nose and mouth.
"There she is." You flinched as his voice pierced the silence. "Just can't stay away, can you, Batgirl?"
"Batman saw how good of a job I did putting you in your place last time," you said, glancing around as you tried to find your way in the darkness, "he figured who better to send your way than me?"
"That was a fluke."
"You were humping my boot."
"I'm not going back there."
"I sure as hell can't let you run amok in Gotham with that fear toxin of yours, can I?"
"Who said anything about Gotham?" he asked mockingly. "I've had nothing but time to think about what I'd do to you when I got out."
You spotted his silhouette creeping toward you and tensed until you realized he couldn't see you. His mask shifted every so often, as if he were looking out for you, too.
Grinning to yourself, you slipped behind a stack of boxes, listening for the sound of his footsteps, louder as he unwittingly approached your hiding spot. It was almost funny, the way you caught him, sticking your boot out so he tripped over it and tumbled to the ground. You giggled as you straddled his back.
"You fucking bitch!"
"This is getting embarrassing, isn't it?" you asked, making quick work of tying him up. No handcuffs this time, but the rope attached to your utility belt would do as you bound his wrists before he could reach for the fear toxin. "I mean, you want Batman to take you seriously, and you're getting your ass handed to you by Batgirl. I barely even had to try this time."
When you stood up, you grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and pushed him onto a couch still covered in plastic. Feeling secure enough, you took off your gas mask, bat-eared cowl still securely in place, listening as the couch crackled and squeaked as he fruitlessly fought against the intricate bindings that kept him at your mercy.
You pulled off his burlap mask, hardly surprised when you were met with his plump lips curled in a scowl, his blue eyes burning with rage. A glob of spit landed just below your eye. You froze, and for a split second he had the audacity to look smug, as if he'd actually gotten one over on you.
"That wasn't very nice."
Wiping the saliva from your cheek, your palm collided with his face with a smack that echoed in the warehouse.
He whimpered, his pale skin already blossoming crimson, glossy from the spit your hand spread across his cheek. For a moment, you wondered if you'd have any luck convincing Bruce to let you keep Scarecrow in the Bat Cave. Surely it'd be more secure than Arkham. Then you could keep a close eye on Dr. Jonathan Crane. Make sure he stayed in his place.
Glancing down at his crotch, you scoffed at the tent in his pants. "Seriously?"
"Fuck you."
"Did you think about that in Arkham, too?" you asked, placing your hand at the base of his throat, squeezing slightly as you forced him to tilt his head up to look you in the eye. "I bet they don't even care how bad your cock must ache when they've got you all wrapped up in a strait-jacket, huh?"
His jaw clenched, lip quivered at your mocking. Your heart fluttered for a moment. God, he looked especially pathetic. You brought your lips to his, pleased when he offered no resistance to the gesture, instead kissing you back hungrily, allowing you to bite at his bottom lip, to consume his pent up lust for you.
"How about it, Scarecrow? Want Batgirl to give you a hand?" You brought your hand to his crotch, cupping his erection that strained against his clothes, a whine escaping his bruised lips. "I left you hanging last time, and that wasn't very fair, was it?"
He gave you the slightest nod in concession. With an uncharacteristically gentle touch, you unzipped his pants, pulling his cock free from the confines of his underwear. Well, his attitude certainly wasn't compensating for that. His hips jerked when you spat on his cock, your saliva sliding down his length before you took him in your hand and began pumping.
You watched his face contort in pleasure, silently wondered how long it'd been since he came at the hands of another. Didn't quite figure him as the type to get busy in Arkham, even when he was the facility's administrator. You remembered him back then, still smug and arrogant when he testified at mobsters' trials, not quite having lost his mind yet. Though, anyone who would develop a fear toxin was already insane.
"If your hands were untied, what would you do?" you asked.
He snarled his answer. "I'd push your head down and make you choke on my cock until you cried."
You rolled your eyes. "I was hoping for something a little more creative. C'mon, you said you've had nothing but time to think about it. I wanna know what you'd do if you could have your way with me, really let me have it."
"I'll dose you with my toxin until it breaks you, and then I'll rebuild you," he said, excitement laced in his voice. "I'll be your salvation. You'll never leave me or send me back to Arkham. I'll have Batgirl all to myself."
His confession left you speechless—disturbed, if not a bit intrigued—but reminded you that as playfully sadistic as your fantasies were, his were far darker. Your past experience with the fear toxin was hellish enough, and dread washed over you at the thought of what would entail breaking your mind with it. Maybe you were getting too familiar with Scarecrow, his psychotic fixation shifting from Batman to you.
"Fuck, Batgirl, keep going," he groaned, his cock twitching in your hand, already so close to release.
You couldn't let on that he rattled you. Not like this.
"What was that?" you asked mockingly, deliberately slowing your pace, reveling in the frustration that twisted across his features. "I think you're forgetting something."
Through gritted teeth, he forced out, "Please."
"Attaboy."
He choked at that, looking at you with crazed desperation as he thrust against your hand. Feeling especially cheeky, you leaned down, batting your eyelashes at him as you stuck out your tongue and licked the head of his cock. "You're pretty close, huh?"
"Yes," he whined, his strained voice nothing short of music to your ears.
"Then what are you waiting for? My permission?" you teased. "I don't know how I was ever scared of you. Beneath that burlap mask, you're just a pathetic little boy."
He whimpered like a damn dog as he came, eyes twisted shut, hips jerking erratically as his cum coated your hand. Watching the way his lips moved, silent curses falling from them until he dug his teeth into his lower lip and didn't seem to notice when he drew blood. He let out a shaky breath when you released your hold on his soft cock.
"C'mon, clean up your mess," you said, extending your hand to him.
He hesitated for a moment before tentatively licking the dip between your thumb and index finger, his tongue curling, collecting the cum that had gathered there. You watched transfixed as he swallowed, exhaling a shaky breath at the sight of his throat flexing. Without further prompting, he licked your hand nearly clean.
Pushing your index and middle fingers between his lips, you moaned as you felt his tongue wrapped around the digits, lapping at the last of his cum on your skin.
A string of saliva fell onto his split bottom lip, and you gathered it with your thumb, wiping it across his flushed cheek. He leaned into your touch, though his attitude shifted when you pulled away from him.
"Batgirl, we could have this all the time," he implored, a crazed look in his eye that made your stomach turn. "Let me go, and you'll see."
Grabbing his burlap mask from the plastic-covered cushion beside him, you pulled it over his head. He kept rambling, though, his voice buzzing in your ear like a fly as you called Bruce, waiting for him to pick up.
"It's going to happen eventually," he said, his voice muffled by the mask. "Just wait. It'll be so much better than either of us can imagine."
You rolled your eyes. Jesus Christ, did they at least gag him at Arkham? "Hey Batman, it's me. I got Scarecrow. The guy's driving me crazy."
Fem!reader is kidnapped by the joker and his henchmen while just trying to get a moment's reprieve from her boring, soul-destroying job ✨️
Tw: I mean, we all saw TDK, right? I'd say this story is has many of the same darker themes. Kidnapping, violence, mentions of minor characters (not J) being misogynist/threatening SA, reference to past traumatic injury. NSFW in one or two places but mainly this is narrative/story based first and foremost. Minors Do Not Interact! 🔞
Also - A lot of violence in this chapter. Threat of self injury/suicide, guns, knives, murder, etc.
By now you guys know the drill - this is the final chapter.
NOTE: PLEASE VOTE IN THE POLL AT THE END :)
Chapter 37 - Finale 2/2
Lunging for the nearest of his men, I stabbed the blade directly into his neck. He made a horrible sort of gasping, gagging noise as I quickly dragged it back out. My stomach turned at the sight of his shocked face and the blood spilling out from his clasped hands at his throat as he fell to his knees, clutching his fatal wound.
Knowing I had only the tiniest window of opportunity before I would get shot, I quickly made a stab for the other man. The element of surprise was fading fast and realisation was dawning on him as I drove the blade down toward him.
He managed to move just enough that it buried itself into his muscular shoulder, rather than his jugular as I had intended.
Shit.
He cursed in pain and made a grab for me. In a panic I dug the knife deeper into his flesh with both of my hands and slammed into him with all my might, sending us tumbling to the concrete floor. Leveraging my knees against his torso I managed to wrench it back out of his shoulder and drive it into his thigh as he brought it up to strike at me with a knee. I could tell in an instant that this wound was going to be fatal as the blade disappeared into his leg right around where his femoral artery would be.
We scrambled to our feet. And I looked up just in time to see him staggering toward me, the knife still wedged in place. Stupidly, he sealed his own fate by making a grab for it.
'Wait, don't!' I cried out.
But it was too late.
He'd pulled it out, only thinking of using it against me. There was a horrifying spurt of red and I had to look at the ground and try not to throw up at the gory sight. He seemed to be in a state of confusion and shock; advancing on me, knife in hand. Panic quickly overtook my revulsion and I snapped back into the fight for survival.
As soon as he got within my grasp he lunged at me with the blade, just barely missing my face as I ducked away from him. Next he drove it down toward my chest. In a moment of clarity I threw myself to the side and kicked the back of his knee forwards, buckling it. He fell awkwardly, slick with his own blood and his strength rapidly fading. The knife slipped from his grasp.
As the huge man came crashing down, he grabbed onto my arm, pulling me with him. The way he fell, he slipped over the edge of the elevator shaft, screaming as he tumbled down in the darkness, and very nearly taking me down with him. Thankfully his grip broke at the last moment, leaving me on solid ground with the reclaimed knife still gripped tightly in one hand.
I had to suppress a yelp of terror as I stared down into the dark tunnel he had been swallowed up by. His echoing scream abruptly stopped, leaving only darkness and silence as I struggled for purchase on the wet floor.
What had I done?
I just couldn't let them kill her and I didn't trust J to honour his word, not anymore.
Shoving myself forwards, I scrambled to my feet and dragged the chair and its occupant away from the edge of oblivion. I pulled the key out of the detonator and, wasting no more time, I frantically set about trying to cut his hostage free.
Just as I’d got her hands loose, she screamed and pointed over my shoulder.
"He has a gun!"
I glanced back just in time to see J, aiming a revolver at us.
"That wasn't one of the options," he said, his voice like a dark poison.
I froze, a horrible icy feeling spreading over my skin. I slowly raised both my hands.
"You wanted me to kill people.”
“Not the only men I had left.”
“I thought you liked chaos. I thought you’d just spent weeks encouraging me to go against the grain, to disrupt the plan." I protested unable to keep the slight smugness out of my voice at knowing that I'd ruined his scheme.
He cocked the hammer of the revolver with a loud snap.
"Step away from her and put the key back, this isn't over," he demanded, his tone like ice.
I raised my blood-soaked hands and very slowly got to my feet. My back was still to him as I decided my next actions very carefully. I slowly turned to face him, deliberately keeping myself between Sarah and his line of sight.
"Are you finally going to kill me now?"
He stared me down, unmoved, so I continued to talk.
"I asked you that once before. You said no - gave me your word, but only if I didn't interfere. I'd call this a pretty big interference," I added.
He was still silent.
"Are you going to kill me now?" I asked again.
His dark eyes continued to bore their way into me.
"I don't think you really want to do it," I said finally, accusation in my tone.
"What makes you so sure?" He challenged with a sadistic glint in his eye.
I shifted my weight to the opposite leg, trying to hide some of my discomfort.
"Well, the way I see it, you've killed the Batman, or at the very least put him into a vegetative state... so no more fun and games there. Apart from me, who else in this city understands you? Who else is as entertaining? With me gone too, you'll have to just settle for going back to picking off the mob."
He let out an exasperated growl. He knew I was right.
"Let her go," I said, the words firm but quiet.
"No," was his immediate answer.
He took a step forward, keeping the gun trained on us.
"I'm not moving."
"I can make you."
His words dripped with venom and my blood ran colder still as he stepped closer again. My heart was pounding in my chest, barely contained in it's cage but I stayed fixed to the spot.
Suddenly, there was a deafening crack as he fired a shot.
I flinched, for a moment thinking one of us was hit, but realising quickly that it was a warning shot as I saw the gun pointed skyward. Sarah screamed in pure terror, giving way to a new wave of startled sobs behind me.
"It's okay," I whispered to her, reaching behind me to try and calm her by grabbing her hand. I wordlessly got her to take the still bloody knife so that she could cut the final bind keeping her legs anchored to the chair.
"The next one will be for you both if you don't move aside," he threatened.
I laughed a little in hysteric disbelief.
"Don't you know me by now? You think that kind of threat is going to work on me?"
He rolled his eyes as if to say 'it was worth a try'.
"Are you really going to take a bullet for her?" He asked, genuine confusion in his tone.
"Why wouldn't I protect her? This is how we met. You won't change and neither will I. I guess we're at an impasse," I stared him down defiantly.
"You truly are incorruptible!" He laughed.
I didn't like how close he was getting - as soon as I was within reach it could be over for us. Hurriedly, I tossed the detonator key down into the open void of the elevator shaft behind us.
His eyes widened and narrowed again, burning with barely restrained violence. It was as if the fire dancing in them now could have torched the entire city - razed each building to the ground.
"Did you forget I've done the same for you - mutliple times? I've risked my life for you, when I had no reason to!" I sputtered out in desperation, trying to recapture his attention as he stared in disbelief at my total ruination of his plans.
This seemed to give him pause, while he remembered the specifics, so I continued.
"And - and! You returned the favour. You got me the antidote to the fear toxin. That saved my life. You didn't let me die. Why's that?! Just so you can shoot me here? How boring!" I was clutching at straws now - and I knew it. The sheer desperation was palpable in the cracking of my voice.
I could tell from the look on his face that he knew just how afraid I was.
"I won't shoot her through you, but only because I won't need to... you will give her up," he answered, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes.
So now we were deadlocked into a deadly game of chicken.
I reached behind me to take the blade back from Sarah's shaking hands into my own.
"Let her go," I commanded, making my voice as flat and calm as I could possibly manage.
"No," was his predictable answer.
I had one last final trick up my sleeve, one last ace to play: I raised the knife to my own throat.
"Fine. Enjoy the solitude," I muttered, backing away from Sarah very slowly, much to her panic and dismay.
He looked from her to me and back again, startled by my final hand.
"If you shoot her, I'll do it. You won't be able to stop me in time, I'll cut my own throat and fall thirty floors. Overkill, really. No chance of you dragging me back from that," I called out as my feet found the very edge of the open elevator shaft.
It took every ounce of courage in me not to fall apart. I didn't need to see the drop for the fear to sink its claws deep into my cold flesh.
"You can't have it all. You can kill us both, or you can save us both. Your call. That's the choice I’m giving you."
A tear rolled down my cheek as I weighed up the full scope of this new bargain.
"No, don't! Just let him shoot me! Don't!" Sarah protested, finding her own voice suddenly and springing up from the chair.
I closed my eyes and smiled.
"No. I can't do that. Just promise me you'll leave Gotham the moment you get the chance?"
"I will, I promise, just don't do this," she pleaded, voice cracking.
I nodded decisively with eyes still closed and prepared myself for the ugly end. I hoped she was right, that she would get free, even if I couldn't.
J's incessant need to be proved right could always outweigh any feelings, or obsession, he had for me. The final move was a total gamble and if that was the case, I was done for. If he didn't intervene, I really was about to fall from the tower.
Flickering images of my nightmare passed though the cinema of my mind's eye - there I was, slick with mud, struggling to survive - struggling to hold on. And there he was - watching from above with a cold, vacant expression, until I tumbled down into the dark.
So, this was it; the game was finally over.
"Stop," J interjected, his voice low, almost a whisper.
My ears pricked up to the sound.
Had I imagined it? Had I manufactured what I wanted to hear?
I needed confirmation so I ignored him and readied the blade, teetering as I swayed backwards ever so slightly, just finding the edge of my balance. Of course, I didn't want to do it, but if he really killed her, it would be easier to take than living with that. The guilt and hatred of him would destroy me.
"Stop!" He barked, desperation breaking his voice in two.
My eyes flew open and very slowly, I lowered the knife.
"Get out of here," he hissed through gritted teeth at Sarah.
The disheveled girl hesitated for a moment, understandably distrustful.
He saw this and tossed the gun aside.
"Go now, before I change my mind!" He roared, angrier than I’d ever seen.
At this she took off like a startled doe for the stairwell and disappeared into the dark.
Overcome by the relief, and gasping for breath suddenly, I lurched forward. It felt like my body had been struck, but the feeling was internal, as if the stress of the situation had all fallen on me at once like a pile of bricks. My legs buckled and gave way. I couldn't stop it even as I realised where I was.
The floor was still slick with blood and I slipped as I came crashing down. The knife clattered out of my hand and spun forward, dancing for a moment, spinning in circles, as I clawed at the smooth concrete for purchase. Half of me was already spilling over the ledge and I was slipping further and further over.
Just as my grip failed and my centre of gravity shifted, my body lurching down, my arms failing to keep me held forward, I was yanked to a stop. J stood with one leg braced against the wall and had me gripped by the arm.
He had a look of the closest thing to panic I’d ever seen on his face.
My arms were already struggling to keep their grip on his. I looked up with pleading eyes. Pure terror. He was in danger of slipping too, and if he did, we were both doomed. I forced myself to stop flailing and try to be still. My breaths were ragged and panicked.
As his face twisted with the exertion, he slowly began to pull me back up with both hands and I clung to his arms. He was having to use his entire body, legs driving against the wall framing the open pit, pulling backwards like a rower. As soon as I was up far enough to get one foot back on solid ground, I used it to push myself forward and scrambled out of harm’s way, dragging him back away from the danger with me. We both collapsed onto the floor at a safe distance from the elevator shaft, groaning in pain.
"Why the hell did you do that?" He said in stunned irritation as soon as we both caught our breath.
I stayed where I’d fallen on the floor to ground myself as I felt like I might actually be about to pass out, clasping the knife in my hand. As my full-blown my panic attack waned, I tried to answer him.
"You made me kill two people; I made you save two. Turnabout is fair play," I whispered, waiting for my heart rate to come down.
He was a silent for a moment before he broke into a chuckle.
"This is why I need you around. You do keep things interesting, you're right about that," he said, finally getting back to his feet and hauling me up with him.
"Is that the only reason?" I asked, betraying the hurt I felt.
He looked down at me confused his eyes searching my face as he tried to discern exactly my meaning.
So that was how it would be.
His desire for me, in whatever capacity, was dangerous, the blood I was covered in was proof of that. I was forever tainted now, and like Lady Macbeth there would be nights I’d scrub my hands raw, convinced that some trace of the stain remained... He'd set me on a path that had started with being a victim of kidnapping and ended with committing double homicide. If I kept spiraling, where would I end up next? If I followed in his wake, death and destruction would be around every corner.
With sudden passion, he pulled me in close, his lips crashing into my own. For a moment, I let it happen. I almost lost myself entirely, kissing him back feverishly. Whatever I wanted to think, whatever mantras I repeated to myself, I had never felt such a raw intensity of emotion. I had never felt this kind of violent affection for anyone. I had never fully understood how love could drive people to the brink of their sanity. I thought it was a kind of romantic exaggeration, pure melodrama, or at least, that a love so deep was something reserved for classically attractive, affluent people. Not people like me. The endless depths of my rioting emotions only made the bite of his betrayal sink deeper, all the way to the bone.
Somehow, I managed to pull myself back to the surface for air. I couldn't drown any longer. I knew what I had to do, as much as I didn't want to. As I broke away from the kiss, catching my breath, my eyes fell on the two bodies lying in the shadows. The sight of the still motionless form of the Batman and the lifeless stare on the face of the man I'd removed from the ranks of the living gave me a renewed kind of resolve. I pulled him back into the kiss.
Initially, he didn't even react as the blade slipped between his ribs. I pulled away from my Judas kiss, watching as his expression changed to one of confusion and surprise. He looked down at my hand and back to my face and began to laugh, between grimacing in pain.
I pulled out the knife with a slight twist. I hated him for what he'd done to me, for bringing this out of me. I never wanted any of this. My life had been miserable, and boring, but simple! Not a perpetual bloodbath, not this dog-eat-dog world he'd dragged me into. I would've been quite happy to never have been forced into the role of a horror movie 'final girl'.
"I think I love you... but loving you would be annihilation," I said finally, as he slid to his knees, gripping my arms.
He was still laughing.
"I don't just want to survive anymore; I want to live. You would never have let me go. You want to control me, I can't live that way... I tried to warn you," I said, my voice breaking with the strain.
"You, ah, you... with my own knife. That's cold," he managed to say, mockingly.
I cradled his face with a bloody hand.
"I could have shot you. It would have been easier for me."
He looked at me with a kind of twisted admiration at this confession and clutched his side. The red stain growing on his blue shirt was like a flower blooming beneath his fingers. Hot tears brimmed in my eyes and began to spill down my cold cheeks.
"I was right... about you," he said, smugly.
"That I was capable of terrible things? Maybe," I answered, my chest heavy with guilt.
"You are magnificent," he wheezed out, face contorted by pain.
"I'm sorry, J, I really am," I said with a sob as I let him fall to the floor.
His laughter rang in my ears as I shakily turned around. I was too much of a coward to stay and watch him bleed out. I stopped at the form of the first man I’d killed. His eyes, frozen open in shock, disturbed me to the core, so I knelt beside him and forced them closed. I saw then that he had my empty beretta in his holster and decided to take it back. I couldn’t part with Tony’s gift to me, not when it meant so much to him, and I hoped to any god who might be out there that he’d made it out alive. J’s laughter was punctuated now by a choking cough. I stole a glance back at him as he lay sprawled out on his back. I felt like I was leaving a piece of my heart behind to die with him in the cold. I would always carry that scar...
When I finally reached ground level, I tugged off my sweater and used it to wipe as much of the blood off my hands and the knife as I could, tossing it aside. For some reason I felt compelled to keep the switchblade, flicking it shut and placing it into my pocket - a reminder of my strange love.
I blinked in the weak rays of winter sunlight which signaled the oncoming dawn. A smile spread across my tear-streaked face as the light touched me. Stepping out of the concrete skeleton of the unfinished skyscraper, I started my journey back to the hordes of citizens getting ready for another boring work day, as vans of SWAT officers tore down the street in the direction I’d come from.
No one tried to stop me, in fact, none of them noticed me at all.
Little did I know that things had not ended the way I had left them in the tower:
The joker, increasingly delirious with blood loss, became aware of a shadowy figure looming over him as he lay sprawled out on the frigid concrete. The batman, despite everything in him screaming to let go, despite the bodily agony he was experiencing, knew that he still couldn't break his rule. With a sigh, he resigned himself to saving the joker's life. If nothing else, the villain who had terrorised Gotham yet again deserved to rot in Arkham, not slip away peacefully here. The people needed to see that the city was capable of containing his madness, and keeping it at bay.
Realising that he was not alone in the world after all, a smile spread across the Joker's face. Y/n might have been sane enough to leave him, but the batman would not abandon him, even after everything that had transpired. Then, as he felt his body being hoisted from the ground, the realisation dawned on him, like the fiery sunrise, that y/n had said that she loved him... did she mean that? It was true, she could have simply shot him with the revolver. And she hadn’t gone for the jugular, which he had seen she was more than capable of mere moments before.
Weakly, he began to laugh. Yes, she did. How strange she was – a puzzle that kept shifting and changing; he couldn’t pin her down. It only added to his sheer fascination. The sight of her covered in blood, beauty and violence together, was seared into his mind. He would never forget it. He would think of nothing else during his long stretch of re-incarceration in Arkham Asylum’s high security wing.
Back in my apartment, I stuffed various clothes, and the few personal items which were important to me, into a battered old suitcase. There was nothing like a third near-death experience to put everything into perspective. I scrawled out a note for my landlord and taped it to the door, contract be damned, I was leaving today. And I wasn’t going to pay the arrears the red letter slipped under the welcome mat demanded. Maybe if he'd dealt with the damp and mold issue, faulty wiring and broken kitchen appliances, I'd have considered it.
I took a shower, letting the stream cascade over me for a long time, washing away the gunpowder, ash, and blood. The reddish-brown water swirled about my feet before spiraling down the plughole. I had never felt so thankful for the most basic part of my day, as I massaged the shampoo and conditioner into my scalp, and scrubbed the dirt from my oily flesh. I didn’t even care that the temperature never got above lukewarm.
When I finally emerged and towel dried myself, I looked at the tapestry of bruises, scrapes, and cuts I’d gathered from the ordeal. Despite the damage, the eyes of the naked woman staring back at me were alive with a fire I’d not seen before. A kind of resolve and self-assurance had settled into my bones.
I had survived the unsurvivable.
As horrible as the whole ordeal had been, I felt alive for the first time in a long time. With both the Batman, and the Joker gone, the GCPD would not be able to find me. They had proved their incompetence many times, and in the wake of the deaths of the figure heads of the city’s weird underground, attention would be elsewhere for months. Without intel from either of them, I would be able to fly under the radar. Even if, somehow, one or both of them survived, by the time the dust had settled, I'd be half way across the country.
Giving the dingy rooms a final look over, I turned out the lights for the last time and slammed the heavy door shut. The sounds of kids screaming in the stairwell and the loud TV set my neighbour had running at all hours would not be missed.
The sight of a phone booth as I rounded the street corner with my case in tow gave me reason to pause, an idea forming rapidly in my mind. I slipped in some loose change, punched in the numbers, and listened as it rang.
"Hello, this is Stephanie, who is calling please?"
"Hi. It's (y/n)," I began.
There was a long pause before she finally spoke, as though she couldn’t believe it.
"(y/n), my god... you're alive! The cops told us you were dead."
"Of course they did," I muttered, rolling my eyes.
"We erm, we didn't know why you didn't show at first so there might be - I left some messages on your phone," she said sheepishly.
My phone was long gone, of course. If she hadn’t told me, I’d never have known.
"Let me guess, telling me I’m fired and berating me for no-call, no-show?" I chuckled.
"Um, yeah. But - but we can of course reinstate you, now that we know what happened!"
I began to laugh uncontrollably at her inadvertent callousness.
"Oh no, don't bother with that."
"Sorry?" She asked, evidently confused by my sudden hysterics.
“Yeah, I’m not coming back. Do you, do you even know what happened to me, Steph?”
“I, I think they said that you were killed in a shooting,” she stammered out sheepishly.
“And you thought I’d want my job back?”
“Well, yeah. I mean obviously it wasn’t your fault what happened so, we can reinstate you.”
I chuckled.
"Uh-huh. Well, I just called to say fuck you. Fuck you for how you treated me, and I hope you like doing your own paperwork, at least until you find some other poor sucker to replace me.”
There was a stunned silence on the end of the line as I hung up by slamming the phone back into its cradle. I sighed deeply. It was as though I physically felt the enormous weight lifting from my shoulders. I didn’t have to deal with her bullshit anymore and it felt so good.
I couldn’t help but smile as I stepped out into the crowds of commuters and slipped unseen into the morning rush hour. Suddenly, life was ripe with possibilities. I didn't know what I was going to do with it, but it was a fresh start. I was finally free to leave the city. Free to start over somewhere new.
THE END.
End credits song 😂
IMPORTANT!:
Thank you all to those of you who have been with me on this journey from the start - and those who have dropped in along the way. I love and appreciate every single one of you more than you know, especially those of you who have commented! Please write me something below if you liked this as I really value any thoughts you have, good or bad - even just a keyboard smash!
The only other person to really thank is someone I'll never get the chance to meet, but who I've always felt a kind of connection to (hopefully in a way that isn't too para-social!). Heath Ledger gave us this truly iconic character, by putting his heart, soul, and passion into his performance. It cannot be overstated just how iconic and game-changing this version of the joker was. He became so cemented in pop culture that he remains in the global collective consciousness 17 years later, despite the many other versions of the character there have been since! My story would not exist without Heath's craft and I think it's quite beautiful that despite his untimely death, part of his legacy will always be the inspiration of other artists to create.
If you are reading this, my request of you today is that you keep creating, even if you start to question the value in it. Do it any way! I never made it through to the end of any of my extended writing pieces before, and am so pleased I managed to keep that creative outlet open this time. Your art, in whatever form, is important! In a world of AI and prioritizing profit over the fun of artistic expression, don't give in! Keep making it. Make it for yourself even if no one else seems to notice.
Oh, and, one last thing:
Why so serious?
Daisy xoxo
Would you read a sequel?
Yes - I want to see more of the characters and find out what happened after this
No - I think this story is already complete
Voting ended onNov 3, 2025
Playlist I wrote to including some of the music actually mentioned in the course of the story:
Tag list:
If i forgot anyone or you want to be removed please let me know ❤️
Just wanted to drop by and let you know that I’ve been working on a Bale!Bruce Wayne x Reader story over on Wattpad, and it already has 30 chapters up (and counting!). The story is set during Batman Begins, right at the moment when Bruce is starting to become Batman — so lots of origin story vibes, drama, and of course, romance.
It’s a fanfic, but honestly, I’m treating it like a real book because I’m super into the characters and the world. If you’re into slow burn, Gotham moodiness, and emotional tension with Mr. Wayne himself, I think you’ll like it 🖤
Here’s the link to the story on Wattpad
Let me know if you’d prefer me to upload it here on Tumblr too! I don’t mind at all, but I feel like Wattpad makes it easier to read chapters and follow along.
I felt like drawing. Today i will release another part of my Negan fanfic.
Ive been watching gotham (2014) lately, if someone wants any one shots or drabble about the series tell me because I would love to write something about it.
