#so the only way he can talk is by possessing pyg and she thinks she's actually going nuts

[megaguardain]

Fake AH Crew: The Bat-Heist Chapter 2

Note: This has been edited to remove James Ryan “The Asshole Guy” Haywood from the story. Please enjoy nonetheless.

Full Story: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22719961/chapters/54293320

Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/megaguardian

Ko-Fi: https://ko-fi.com/megaguardain

Chapter 2: Take a Night...

“Michael Vincent Jones,” the detective said as he tossed a hefty file on the metal table in front of a handcuffed Charlie, “aka, Mogar. Wanted for assault, gunrunning, grand larceny, grand theft auto-,”

“Love that game,” Michael interrupted.

“-murder, manslaughter, possession of a whole ton of illegal firearms and a much, much longer list of things I don’t want to list off because I have better things to do with my time. All of this in the Lone Star State,” the detective said. He leaned close to Michael and growled, “What are you doing in Gotham?”

“Sightseeing,” Michael snarled back at him.

“Right,” the detective agreed sarcastically, “You here with the Fake AH Crew?”

“I’m on vacation,”

“You rob banks while on vacation?” the other detective in the interrogation room asked.

“You have your hobbies…” Michael shrugged.

“You’re gonna have to give us something other than this vacation bullshit.” the first detective said rather threateningly.

“Don’t I get a phone call before you try to beat me?” Michael asked.

The detective grabbed Michael by the collar and lifted him out of the chair, “Listen to me scumbag,” the detective growled, “You’re gonna tell us why you’re really here and where your crew is or we’re gonna give you to-”

“Detective,” a woman’s voice said with authoritative tone. Everyone looked at the entrance to the interrogation room to see a woman with greying black hair wearing a trench coat with a gun and badge strapped to her belt.

“Uhhhh….Commissh?” the detective holding Michael asked, not putting the criminal down. The Commissioner looked at the detectives, then at Michael, then back at the detectives.

“He’s on his way,” she said before leaving.

“Who’s on his way? My lawyer?” Michael asked as the detective put him back in the chair, “Is it my dad?” he called as the detectives let the room and closed the door. Michael sat in silence or a moment before saying “Maybe it’s my mom,”

“Okay, you a get a million dollars but every piece of furniture you interact with is that breakaway stunt furniture from movies,” a British man with a large nose said. He wore a blue dress shirt and pants, sunglasses were holstered to a pocket on his chest. He sat in the passenger seat of a car parked across the street from a garage entrance. Above the garage door it said GCPD Parking.

“Every piece of furniture?” the man in the driver’s seat asked. He wore a white dress shirt with a dark vest, tie and pants.

“Every piece,” the British man explained.

“So, what if I’m really careful getting into bed? Will it collapse after I go to sleep?”

“No, it’ll collapse,”

“Damn...I don’t think I can do it, Gavin,” the man in the driver’s seat said, “I couldn’t go hang out with anyone without breaking their furniture!”

“You’re usually so careful Trevor. You might not break anything,” Gavin explained.

“I’d be way too stressed out that the slightest touch would collapse the table I’m setting a drink down on,” Trevor explained.

“It’d be like the most stressful game of Jenga,” Gavin joked.

“Exactly!” Trevor laughed.

The laughter abruptly stopped when they felt the car start vibrating.

“Why is the car-?” Trevor asked before they heard something roar. 

In the street in front of them, they saw a large vehicle swing in front of them and screech to a halt, facing the parking garage across the street. From what they could see of the vehicle, the rear had larger tires than the car Trever and Gavin sat in, and had a shell-like cover between the sets of the wheels. Below the cover was a large burner exhaust they could see heat emanating out of it.

“Hole….ly...shit,” Trevor gasped.

“That’s the Batmobile?” Gavin asked, leaning over the dashboard, “It looks like a tank had a baby with a Porsche or a Lambo,”

“Why do you think he’s just parked there?” Trevor asked after a moment of the Batmobile not moving, Gavin just shrugged.

Shortly after, the Batmobile began moving forward, rolling down the ramp toward the parking garage. As the car approached the large metal garage door it began to open, rattling as it the rows of links ascended and rolled back into the ceiling.

“Go, go, go, go!” Trevor whispered as he grabbed a satchel from the back seat and got out of the car with Gavin. The two moved to the edge of the ramp as the Batmobile entered the garage, as the Batmobile passed the garage door it bagan to close. They proceeded down the ramp as the Batmobile turned right and ventured down another ramp. The gate was about half way closed before they got close.

“Gavin!” Trevor hissed.

“On it,” he said as he outstretched his arm. His hand began to glow with a pale green aura and the garage door suddenly slowed to an almost standstill and gained the same pale green aura as Gavin. Trevor ducked under the door, followed by Gavin, keeping his hand trained on the door as he ducked under. Once inside, Gavin’s hand stopped glowing as he put it down and the door resumed closing at it’s normal speed.

The two followed the ramp down to their right, descending down deeper into the GCPD Parking Lot. They stuck to the walls of the garage and duck behind the police cruisers parked inside, even though they didn’t see anyone else. They travelled down three floors before reaching the bottom of the garage. It was a roundabout looking base, it was completely circular with a small set of stairs leading up to a set of doors with a sign that had an elevator symbol above them. The Batmobile was parked parallel to the doors, it’s left side facing Trevor and Gavin as they hid behind a police cruiser and looked around.

“See anyone?” Gavin asked.

“No, let’s go,” Trevor said.

They cautiously approached the Batmobile, Trevor pulled a collapsed drone out the stachel. The two looked over the car with confused expressions.

“Where do I even put this?” Trevor asked.

Gavin kneeled on the ground and looked under the car, “Here?” he suggested, pointing under the car’s armor and chassis. Trevor kneeled down and reached under the car. He made faces as he moved his arm around until he felt the drone magnetically stick to something.

“Now, let’s hope that doesn’t fall off,” Trevor said before he noticed Gavin giggling, “What?”

“What was with the faces?” he asked, still laughing.

“Listen, a man’s face does weird things when he’s focused on sticking something in someone’s undercarriage,” Trevor explained.

“Whatever, let’s leg it,” Gavin laughed, standing.

Batman was brooding as the elevator played cheerful music. Cassandra didn’t know why they needed to play the music in an elevator that only police took, but she didn’t really care. The elevator dinged and the doors opened and Batman was greeted by the sight of Commissioner Wayne.

“You changed the garage codes,” Batman noted, the voice distorter still active.

“We had a Joker attack this week, what did you think I was going do?” the Commissioner retorted. She turned and led Batman to the interrogation rooms, taking him inside one of the adjacent rooms. Inside was a one-way mirror window that let them observe the interrogation room next door. The bank robber Batman caught hours earlier sat handcuffed. He looked bored out of his mind.

“Name’s Michael Jones. Jersey native, moved to Tyler, Texas when he decided to become a career criminal,” the Commissioner explained, “Runs with a crew called the Fake Achievement Hunter Crew, mostly they commit robberies and other kinds of theft,”

“Where’s his crew?” Batman asked, watching Michael pick his nose.

“We don’t know, he won’t talk,” she said.

“He will to me,” Batman stated.

“Cass,” the Commissioner said, “these guys are crazy,”

“We’ve dealt with crazy,”

“No, I’m not talking about Joker and his cult, or Pyg or even Ivy. These guys don’t steal stuff to make a profit or plan to take over the world,” the Commissioner explained, “They do it for the bragging right,”

“Bragging rights? Really?”

“Yeah. They once stole a fighter jet from a military base just because someone online challenged them to do it,” she explained.

“I’ll stop them Helena.” Batman said matter of factly. Helena Wayne stared at Batman for a moment, “What?” he asked when he noticed.

“It’s kinda scary how similar you are to Dad sometimes,” Helena explained.

“I try to live up to his example,” Cassandra explained, not turning off her voice distorter.

“I know,” Helena said, “I’ll kill the lights so you can do your thing,”

Commissioner Wayne turned and flicked a switch on a nearby console and the lights in the interrogation room turned off.

“Hey! Who turned off the lights?” Michael called out. Helena heard a thump, “Fuck!” Michael shouted and she turned the lights back on. Inside the interrogation room, Batman had dented the table with Michael’s head and held it there.

“I miss doing that,” Helena said.

“Where’s your crew?” Batman demanded.

“Up your ass,” Michael retorted.

Batman slammed Michael’s head into the table again, “Tell me,”

“I did. You’re gonna need a proctologist,” Michael chuckled.

Helena began to hear a commotion outside in the bullpen, “What the hell is going on now?” she sighed. She left the room and saw her officers and detectives arguing with a man.

The man was about five and a half feet tall and wore a faded blue dress shirt with a police badge on a metal chain around his neck. He had dark brown hair and a full beard.

“And who are you?” Commissioner Wayne asked.

“I’m Detective Tapp,” the shorter one stated in what sounded like a Boston accent.

This is going to be a long night, Helena thought to herself.

“Okay, detective,” Helena sighed, using the term ‘detective’ loosely, “What are you doing here?”

“Got word you arrested one of the Fake AH boys,” Detective Tapp explained, “I’ve been followin’ them from Texas. They’ve been robbin’ all the way up here,”

“Well, they robbed a branch of Gotham Trust. Made off with ten thousand dollars,” the commissioner explained, motioning for the detective to follow her. She pulled out her phone and texted someone before stopping away from her officers, “Why are you following them?”

“They’re my beat. Been tryin’ to get something to pin’em for years,” Tapp explained.

“They don’t seem that good at hiding who they are or who did the crime,”

“True. But someone keeps posting their bail,”

“Who?” the commissioner asked. There was a moment of awkward silence as the detective was suddenly interested in his shoes.

“We...don’t know,” Detective Tapp admitted.

“Well, we’ll know in a few minutes,” Commissioner Wayne said, “Batman will get Jones to spill their beans shortly,”

“Jones? Michael or Lindsay?” Tapp asked.

“Michael Jones? Why does it matter?”

“Batman can’t crack Jones,” Tapp said, “Man’s like ten bears in a human body. He’s tough,”

“We’ve had a lot of people like that here, Tapp,” the commissioner said.

“You read his file?” Tapp asked.

“Yeah, man’s cuckoo for Coco-Puffs. I believe in Batman getting info out of him,” 

“Is he beatin’ Jones?” Tapp asked. There was an awkward silence between the two of them, “I’ll take that as a yes,”

“Listen, Jones is the Fake AH Crew’s go-to fixer. Beating him isn’t gonna work,” Detective Roger Davis explained.

“Let me guess, you have a plan?”

“Eat shit you pointy-ea-,” Michael said before being punched. He was face up on the heavily dented metal table, he was bleeding a little bit out of his nose.

“Tell where your crew is before I start breaking bones,” Batman growled.

Someone about Michael was off to Batman. On the road, his body language told him he wanted to escape. He did everything he could to prevent himself from being captured. His body told Cass everything; he’s a fighter, he’s confrontational and really enjoys alcohol, but now he wants to be here. Why?

“Alright!” a male voice behind Batman called. He turned and saw a men with the Commissioner. He presented himself as a detective like the commissioner, but he was something else too, Cass could tell. 

“Oh goddammit. Not this guy,” Michael groaned in annoyance after seeing who was in the doorway.

“Batman. A word?” the commissioner said. Batman let Michael go and followed the commissioner out of the interrogation room, leaving the man alone with Michael.

“What’s going on? Batman asked.

“He’s a detective from Tyler, Texas. Been going after the Fake AH Crew for years,” the commissioner explained.

“He’s not very good at it,” Batman said.

“No, but I had Tim verify his identity and it check out,” Commissioner Wayne explained, “He’s going to offer Michael a deal,”

“A deal?”

“Yeah. In exchange for where his crew is-,” the commissioner ware interrupted by intense shouting and crashing sounds from the interrogation room. Helena drew her gun as she and Batman approached the door to the room. They got within a few feet of it before it was kicked off its hinges by Michael.

“Freeze!” the commissioner ordered, aiming her weapon at Michael.

Michael ignored her as Batman charged at him, throwing batarangs ahead of him. Michael dodged the batarangs, Batman punched him in the face as he dodged. Michael didn’t budge.

Michael smiled as he jabbed something into Batman’s abdomen. Cass felt prongs pierce her suit and then an intense, hot prickling sensation spike across her body from the prongs. Michael dug the taser in deeper before punching her across the room.

Batman crashed into several desks, he felt his head go through a computer monitor as he slid across the desk tops. He slammed into the wall on the other side of the room. Everything hurt.

As Batman staggered up from the floor, there was a loud CRASH and the sound of a wall breaking. He looked up to see a large hole where a window used to be. Running over to the hole, he looked out onto the street, Michael was no where to be seen.

“What the hell happened in there?!” Commissioner Wayne demanded as Detectives Tapp limped out of the interrogation room.

“Why’re you yellin’ at me for? You didn’t properly restrain him!” Tapp groaned.

“He was cuffed! He had no weapons or tools!”

“He’s part Amazon! You think some steel handcuffs are gonna stop him?” Tapp yelled.

“And you didn’t think to share that information?!”

“It’s in his file!” Tapp exclaimed.

“That does not matter!” Batman interjected, sounding almost like a demon with his voice distorter, “He got out. We need to search for him and his crew,” he said, he turned toward the commissioner, “I will head back to the Cave and see what I can dig up. You,” he turned toward Detective Tapp, “tell her everything you know about the Fake AH Crew,” he said before heading toward the elevator.

Michael ran down a nearby alley and stopped.

“Where the fuck did they park?” he asked no one. Michael ran down the street around the GCPD building, keep his head down and hiding in the shadows. He eventually made it to an alley that faced the garage door of the precinct. He looked down the alley and found a car running in the alley.

“Hey-o!” Michael said, getting in the backseat of the car.

“Michael boi!” Gavin said.

“How’d it go on your end?” Trevor asked.

“Great. Got my ass beat by Batman,” Michael said as Gavin drove the car out of the alley and away from the GCPD building, “What about you guys?”

“We got the drone on his car, I was surprised he doesn’t have a sensor or something to detect that kind of thing?” Trevor said.

“Dude’s pretty confident,” Michael said, “Can we stop at like a Big Belly Burger before heading back to the warehouse?” 

[barefoot-joker]

Yandere!Professor Pyg X Reader One Shot

Hey, guys! Welcome back to another Yandere!Gotham One Shot featuring Professor Pyg! I went with the route of Pyg loving music so this might not be what you’re expecting but enjoy it anyway!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I smiled as the streets of Gotham were busy, it being a good sign for me. Deciding on the street corner on Main Street I set my guitar case down and opened it. Inside my mahogany wood instrument contrasted with the green velvet of the black leather case, the beautiful possession being an heirloom from my dad. Pulling it out I pushed the strap down over my head and allowed the guitar to sink into a comfortable position. Getting my hands into the right posture I exhaled and began to play, the soft tune being swallowed by the crowd. Quietly I began to sing in hopes somebody would stop by and drop some money into my case, the money going towards my rent for the month. It was hard being a street musician in this city as many people would come up and either steal my hard earned paycheck or turn away and scoff at both my skills and appearance. I'll admit I'm not the most attractive woman or have the most fancy clothes but I think what threw people off was the lack of multiple fingers and multiple scars on my hands. My dad had said it was because my mom had taken some pills she shouldn't have while she was pregnant with me and I would have asked her up front about it except for the fact that she ran off never to be seen by the two of us again. I closed my eyes and allowed my body to sway to the music, my eyes opening when I heard clinking in my case. I looked down to see a couple of quarters had been thrown in along with a dollar. You have to start somewhere. And so there I stood playing and singing, people throwing in money every once in a while. Around noon I moved to a different spot and continued my routine. By 1:00 I had made about $30 but I knew I needed to go to a different spot. As I was walking down the sidewalk someone bumped into me and in their rush took my guitar case with them. "Hey! Get back here!" Quickly I rushed after the man who had taken it, people cursing at me for pushing them. Rounding a corner I was close to catching the thief but he instantly vanished, the only thing telling me he was there being a few dollars I had made. Desperately I looked around but I couldn't find my beloved guitar anywhere. No, this can't be happening! In defeat I picked up the money that was on the ground, it adding up to $5. There was no way I was going to be able to pay rent now. With a saddened sigh I made my way to the GCPD, praying that they could help me. As I walked down the sidewalk I passed by a food stand, the employee shooing away a homeless woman. She seemed desperate as she pleaded with the young man but he was having none of it, him eventually smacking her. My eyes followed the defeated lady, knowing fully well that could be me. Looking down at the pocket of my jacket I knew what I had to do. "Excuse me, sir." "Oh, hello there! What can I get for you?" "I'd like one bowl of soup please." "Of course!" The young man worked quickly at pouring the vegetable beef soup into a Styrofoam bowl before plopping a slice of bread and plastic spoon in. "That'll be $5." I handed him the rest of my cash as he gave me the bowl, I nodding my head at him. "Thank you and please come again!" I turned away and spotted the woman, quickly heading over to her. "Excuse me, Miss. Here, you forgot this." I held out the foam bowl and I could see the hunger in her eyes. "Thank you honey, but a growing girl like you should have it." "No please, I insist." She was hesitant but took it in her hands anyway, thanking me once more. "It's no problem." "Bless you, child." She hurried off and I made my way to the GCPD. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I huffed angrily as I stormed out of the white building, anger evident in my soul. The cops I had talked to said there wasn't any need to help me as I was just a low life. In my rage I had yelled back and had possibly thrown a punch or two but was simply escorted to the front doors, the two cops watching me leave the premise. Scumbags. I fluffed my jacket and walked away, knowing fully well that if I saw another cop I would lash out. I decided it was time to head home and maybe listen to some cassette tapes to calm me down. I sighed as I looked up at the sky, grey clouds masking the Sun. Such a beautiful day ruined. I stuffed my hands in my pockets and continued my way till I reached my small apartment in the Narrows. Stomping up the rusty stairs I reached my apartment and unlocked the door, the dimly lit one room greeting me. Turning on a lamp near my bed I took off my boots and flopped onto the mattress. Sighing, my hand found my cassette player and I hit the play button, my dad's voice echoing in the room. My lip curled slightly as it played my favorite cover by him, the one he played before he left. I never understood why he left me to fend for myself at such a young age but I've overlooked it. My eyes closed as his guitar strumming lulled me into sleep. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It had been a few days since I had informed the police of my theft but they still hadn't given me any information about my missing instrument. I was starting to worry that I would never see it again and the note of one week till eviction on my apartment door didn't help at all. So in an effort to get rid of bad thoughts I took a walk around the city to clear my mind. Tonight the streets seemed barren as I roamed about, homeless looking at me like I was of the high society. Better start making friends. I rounded a corner and found myself near the Green Zone, cars parked everywhere along the sidewalks. Must be a couple of parties tonight. Stopping in the street I looked up at one of the windows with the lights on, my eyes following the silhouettes in the room. Classical music poured out of the window and I couldn't help but smile at the sound of Mozart. Suddenly I felt an arm wrap around my waist and before I had time to scream a rag covered my mouth. "Shh, my little piggy. Pyg has got you." I thrashed around in fear but the chemicals on the rag began to slow me down and before I knew it my vision had faded to inky black. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I groaned as my eyes fluttered open, my head pounding like never before. My surroundings were a bit blurry but after blinking a few times everything became crystal clear. I could heart my heart beat loud as I tried to stand, only to find my wrists were tied tightly to the arms of a chair I was seated in. Panic thrilled through my veins and began to freak out, my breathing becoming erratic as I struggled against my bonds. "Careful, my little piggy. We wouldn't want your skin to get chaffed." I froze as that voice came right from behind me. Hands laid themselves on my shoulders and I couldn't help the squeak that slipped out when the person sniffed my hair. The person let out a hearty chuckle and made their way into my vision, my eyes widening when I saw the person up close. They were a man with a pig's mask covering most of their face, his chin and mouth the only things exposed, and he seemed to stand proudly tall in his brown dress shirt and cream apron, the multitude of knives in it's front pocket making me gulp. "It's so nice to see you up close, Y/n. Watching from far away was starting to get a bit boring." He snorted which sounded like a pig, it adding to the creepy warehouse atmosphere. "W-Who are y-you?" "Professor Pyg at your service, my dear." He gave a bow and I couldn't help but gulp, fear crawling further through my body. "Why so afraid, dearest? I'm not going to harm you." "L-Listen, I think y-you have the w-wrong person. T-There are l-lots of Y-Y/ns here in G-Gotham!" "Oh I have the right person alright. There's no other Y/n that has such great taste with music." His gaze made me uncomfortable so I tried to curl up but my bonds wouldn't allow me to. I could see the anger in his eyes at my actions but he simply smiled and pat my leg. "I know something that'll cheer you right up." I watched as he walked away and into the darkness, returning a few moments later with a black case. "I know how much you've been missing this as it was your father's and it meant a lot to you so I recovered it just for you." The man opened the case and I couldn't help but gasp. Inside laid my dad's guitar all polished and shined up. It almost looked as if it was brand new. "W-Where did you find it?" "A dirty cop under Penguin's wing had it. Naughty boy. He should know better than to mess with something that isn't his." I was taken back by the possessiveness of that sentence. Who exactly was this guy? "I simply can not wait to hear you play! It will be nice to be the only one to hear you!" He squealed in excitement, it being an oink. "W-Why am I h-here, exactly?" "You, my dear, are here for your own good. I've seen the kindness you share with this city, the way you earn your living, the place you stay at. I've watched you play so many times, in fact every day I try and find where you are just to listen. You are so pure and yet nobody respects that. They all take and take and take but never give! Well it's high time that you get what you deserve...some gratitude!" He slammed the table I was seated in front of with his hands and I jumped, I not going to far because of the bonds. Suddenly my stomach growled and a pink hue overcame my cheeks. "Ah yes. The starving artist comes to light. You haven't eaten in a quite a while, have you dear?" I shook my head and he chuckled. "Well it's a good thing I made dinner. Wait right here~" He ran off and I took the time to try and get my wrists loose to no avail. The pig came back and set a plate of some kind of pie down along with a fork and knife. Looking at it the pie seemed normal but because of the situation I was in it didn't seem trustworthy. Professor Pyg picked up the utensils and began to cut into the dough, the smell of grease wafting into my nose. Done cutting he stabbed a piece of dough that also had some meat on it, him bringing the fork to my mouth. "Open up, dear." I shook my head and turned away. He growled and grabbed my chin before forcing the fork in my mouth, the food utterly disgusting. I attempted to spit it out but he quickly clamped a hand over my face so I couldn't breathe. Struggling to get air in I swallowed, the hand coming off which allowed me to gulp in oxygen. "What was that?!" "Simply the man who stole your guitar." I choked on my saliva. Did he say what I think he just said? "W-what?!" "He hurt you, dearest. You and this city. It was high time he got what he deserved and what better way to make him useful than for him to feed you." "Y-you're sick! L-let me go this instant!" I pushed and pulled against the ropes around my wrists, desperately trying to get free. "Now, now, my little piggy. You eat this lovely meal I prepared just for you and then afterwords you and I can make sweet music together."