#(( telling jonathan crane to blow him

[bullsh1tterz]

Istg with the amount of shit he says to dangerous muses, it's a mystery to me how Adam's even still alive.

[ilovetoxicfictionalmen]

BACK TO THE NIGHTMARES

Pairing - Jonathan Crane x Robin!fem!reader

Summary - Even though you go under the alias of Robin whilst fighting crime in Gotham. Your past catches up to you with a certain Doctor that always had a fascination for you.

Warnings - noncon!, violence, dead dove do not eat, rough sex, abuse physical and mentally, bondage.

Word count - 6.3k+

Notes - This was actually the first Cillian fanfic I wrote ages ago and idk highkey just posting it for the lolz.

The name Jonathan Crane was an open wound to you. No matter how much you would try to cover it, it would bleed back open without you noticing. 

You were an orphan at the age of 16. Your family’s tragic death broke you completely, it led to a life of deviance and crime in Gotham City. Your father had you trained in martial arts from an early age, so it benefited your unlawful acts of theft and robbery. However, you would only steal from the greedy. 

You first met Doctor Jonathan Crane when you were hardly an adult. You were arrested for robbing some rich asshole that scammed all of his workers. If only you weren’t so determined to beat the crap out of him you would have gotten away. Your lawyer told you to take the insanity plea, a major reduction of time locked away convinced you to agree with your lawyer. Worst mistake ever. You could tell he wasn’t right in the head as soon as you saw him, despite his charming face. 

When he put on the mask, your worst nightmares came to life. 

It felt like years, being under him as an experiment (even though it was only a couple of months). You fascinated him. He spent a lot of time with you at Arkham. He would tell you how you were his favorite little experiment and that he treated you so much nicer than the others. As if that was a compliment. It was dehumanizing, how he tortured you with your worst fears. To the point that he was your worst fear. You were able to fight back at him a couple of times, get a few good hits in. Despite the consequences, you didn’t regret it. 

Thankfully, The Batman saved you. Bruce heard of your story and felt sympathy for you. You never knew how ballistic Jonathan went when he got the call that you had escaped. And how he swore one day you would be underneath him again. 

Bruce wanted to help you, he felt your pain and struggles. It took you a while, but you agreed, under the hidden agenda that you would use your training to kill Jonathan. He trained you, physically and logically. Also helped you heal, enough to keep Jonathan out of your mind for most of the day. You eventually became Robin. Suit and all. 

When you thought you were ready, you snuck out of the manor. Your mind set on killing Doctor Jonathan Crane. You waited outside by the outside alleyway of Arkham, ready to pounce as soon as you saw him. When he was descending the stairs, you bolted to him. You swiftly pushed him down to the ground and hell broke loose. Punch after punch, kick after kick. You wanted him to suffer, just as he made you suffer. Jonathan tried to defend himself but couldn’t. You straddled him, the street lamp illuminated Jonathan’s eyes wide with fear, you somehow felt guilt. But you pushed that feeling aside, ready to use the final blow. 

But The Batman interfered. He pulled you off of him, a tight grip around your waist, and in a second, Jonathan was shrinking under you. The both of you landed on an exterior landing staircase and he reattached the batclaw to his belt. You shoved Bruce viciously and hissed. 

Bruce shook his head to you, as if you were a child. “I’m disappointed in you” he scolded. 

“Fuck off Bruce!” you growled. 

“I did not train you to become an executioner” he continued. “You do not decide who lives and dies” Bruce stated, leaning on the railing. 

“We both know I’m not the only person he tortured! It would be a mercy kill for the city of Gotham. You know he doesn’t deserve to live” you scoffed. You both had your points. You huffed and looked back down, he was gone. Bruce placed his hands on your shoulders, comforting you. 

“His day will come, we just need to wait for the right moment. Trust me” he reassured. 

And his day did come. Jonathan was arrested for numerous charges after his toxin exposure into the water system. You were free. Or so you thought. He disappeared after the League of Shadows incident. Bruce said he would never dare to return. You thought the same. 

Over the years, you assisted Bruce on missions, both with an agreeing mindset of making Gotham better. Your name became popular in the public eye, Batman and Robin. The vigilante’s sidekick in Gotham crime. You became obsessed with bringing criminals to justice. Sometimes you’d stay up for hours, listening to police radios waiting for something worth your time. Honestly anything was worth your time. But Bruce told you that you have to draw a line. 

Bruce was out of the country. Something had come up elsewhere, you asked to join but he gave a sly grin and said “someone has to protect Gotham”. 

Here you were again, sitting on the rooftop, the moonlight shining on you. Your feet dangled as you watched the moon, a police radio sitting next to you as you waited. You couldn’t sleep much anyways, the nightmares still couldn’t go away. That’s when it caught your eye, the Bat-Signal in the sky. You stood up immediately. Bruce forbids you from going alone. But he wasn't here, he wasn’t even in the country. This was a gray area in your agreement. Oh well, it’s probably something stupid anyways. 

You were quickly dressed and sped to the building. Adrenaline rushed through your blood. You were up there in no time. But by the time you were sneaking up to the rooftop, the light was turned off. You could hear Commissioner Gordon, yabbering about how some deviant must have snuck up to turn it on as a practical joke. You listened to him close the heavy door and sighed, climbing onto the rooftop regardless. Disappointment filled you as you sat on the ledge, overlooking Gotham. 

“What’s got you down, little one?” that familiar, terrifying voice captured your attention. Chills ran down your spine and your chest tightened. You spun around up onto your feet to see him. Jonathan Crane. Your heart raced. He was wearing his mask, he stood tall with his hands behind his back. He loved to call you little one, even after all of this time. 

“Scarecrow” you snarled, bracing for a fight. But you had to remind yourself what Bruce taught you. You also had to force your nerves to the side. 

He said your name. “You know me better than that” he said enthusiastically. Your face dropped. He couldn’t know it was you. How could he know it was you! He laughed at your frozen state. “Even though you beat me bloody that night, eyes never change” he explained, you could sense the grin on his lips. 

“So this was your plan? You want a repeat then?” you laughed, brushing off your nerves. Fists formed and jaw clenched as you waited for his move. 

“Not exactly, The Batman isn’t here to save you this time. In Prague the news broadcast shows” he mentioned, mocking ‘The Batman’.

It was impossible not to laugh. Who did he think he was?

Your feelings got the better of you. The actions of neutral good left you, your judgment clouded by your locked away anger towards this man. He was to die at your hands at this very moment, he didn’t deserve to live. Pure evil doesn’t get to walk free.  

“I’m going to enjoy this” you gritted your teeth. 

With a flash, you charged towards him and tackled him to the ground. You straddled him, ready to knock his teeth out but noticed his arm raise towards you. With a swift movement, you grab his arm and rip the fear toxic from out of his sleeve. Fuck this guy, you can’t teach an old dog new tricks. You ripped off his mask and aimed the canister towards his face and released the gas. 

You breathed in the substance instantly and it blurred your sight. He tricked you. You jumped off of him and coughed intensely. The effects from the substance got to work immediately. Jonathan looked terrifying, your heart raced, body shock and anxiety felt heavy on your chest. No, you still had to fight. You yelled in anger and fear as you threw a punch at him, heart pounding in your chest and mouth hanging open. But your reflexes slowed down so much. He dodged you, effortlessly. Another attempt failed, again and again. Jonathan shoved you to the floor and you fell onto your back. His shoe pressed into your chest, keeping you down. 

“Stop, you’re wasting your energy” his voice sounded demonic. You still tried to fight him off. With a huff, Jonathan bent down and mounted you. You screamed at how close he was, there was no hallucination to his appearance. He looked exactly how you remembered and it haunted you. It was pointless trying to hide the fear he brings upon you in this state. His eyes were dark and expression was blank as his hands tugged onto your loose hair. “There, there, little one. You’re safe with me. You have nothing to fear” he cooed at you with a wicked grin as he pressed his crotch into you. 

You were frozen underneath him, you tried to move but couldn’t. Was this a newly developed substance? Or was your body in shock because of him. Your body trembled and you just wanted to call out for Bruce. With all of your strength, you hand slipped to your belt, searching for the distress beacon. Your actions went noticed by Jonathan and he smacked your hand away. He laughed as he picked up the device and threw it to the side. 

“What did I say again? The Batman isn’t here to save you this time” he mocked, his hands feeling up your body animalistically. He ordered you to sleep and for some reason you did. Falling from one nightmare to another. 

You groaned, your head was aching, but your thoughts were softened with the feeling of fuzziness. The fear toxin had worn off. Your lips were cracked dry as your head rolled from side to side. Your eyes peaked open, you lightly hissed at the bright light piercing above you. Slowly, your eyes became fully wide. You took in a deep breath as you analyzed your unfamiliar surroundings. Everything was white. The walls, counter, floor, exam table and the medical bed you laid on. You harshly blinked as you looked down at your body. A loud, uneased breath echoed throughout the silent room as you stared at yourself. You were wearing a white patient gown and your wrists and ankles were restrained to the bed. 

“You’re awake, finally” the dark voice traveled to your ears from behind. It sent shivers down your spine, knowing who it was immediately, Jonathan Crane. You took into note how his appearance has changed a bit. Just his hair cut shorter and he looked a bit older. If you saw him as a stranger on the street you would think him to be charming. He took slow steps towards you, raising the fear on your cold skin with him approaching you. His hand rested on your shoulder, almost as if to comfort you. “Now the fun can begin” the words slithered off of his tongue. You lied there frozen. Completely clueless of what was about to occur. He sat on the stool beside you and watched you like a hawk. “I had to strip you immediately you know, The Batman had a tracking device on your suit. He must really not trust you. You’ve always made dumb decisions, remember?” he chuckled, speaking casually to you. 

Anger consumed you, you struggled against the restraints and then you froze from the realization of how easy your inner thighs rubbed together. You looked down at your body, and saw your hardened nipples from the cool room poke through the thin cotton. You could feel your body prepare itself to hyperventilate. “You’re going to-” you gasped as you couldn’t finish your sentence, tears flooding your eyes. 

“No no no��� Jonathan soothed, leaning closer to you. His fingers interlocked with yours. “You’re going to want me to fuck you, sweetheart” he flashed a smile. It looked pure at first glance, but the longer you stared, the quicker the evil painted over. 

“Help!” you screamed over and over again. Jonathan couldn’t help but to roll his eyes. God you were still such a fucking whiny bitch. 

Robin was gone, now you were just the broken girl that fell into his hands all of those years ago. It was shocking to see how easily broken you’ve gotten. All of this training and skills for what? You should stand strong, just take it, show no fear and pain. But you were just a girl. 

“No point in screaming. We’re not at Arkham. We’re very far away from Gotham” he sighed, looking up to the ceiling briefly. He yanked a dry cloth from the exam table and stood up. 

“Please Jonathan-” you yelped as he viciously gripped your chin and pulled your face closer to him. 

“Doctor Crane to you” he spat. But he didn’t loosen his iron grip. Your eyes were wide as he stared at you with anger. How dare you. You were not equals. You tried to nod your head against his iron grip. Once he let go you took a large gasp.

He leaned over you and forcefully shoved the cloth into your mouth. You cried, your eyes pleading with him as if it would actually make a difference. He admired the sight below him. “Look at you my sweet, all bound up” he commented, his hand trailing across your collarbones. “You thought you were fucking better than me, smarter, stronger. You dumb fucking whore. Don’t worry, I’ll show you your place. Right under me, figuratively and literally” he explained, the back of his cold hand raised to your flustered cheek. “I’m going to fix you” he said quietly. 

Your eyes didn’t follow him. You couldn’t dare to look at him. Jonathan sat back on the stool. He looked back up to you, noticing the tears slipping down your cheeks. “Oh don’t cry. You wanted to bring me down too. I just acted sharper than you. You let your emotions cloud your judgment, you only have yourself to blame” he elucidated.

He had a point. You were taught better. But you chose to react the way you did. Nevertheless, you didn’t deserve to be in this situation. 

He’s waited so long for this moment. The patience this man has had for this moment. It was all worth it. Now he has the power to break you down mentally and physically. You muffled into the rag, trying to plead with him. 

“I care about you” he randomly admitted. “Even after all this time” he mumbled slightly. It shocked you, this monster having feelings for someone other than himself? Impossible. “More importantly I care about how you feel about me” he added, leaning closer to your face. “So, I’m going to please you to show you just how much I care about you” he grinned, his hand tapping your cheek. 

You knew exactly what that meant. You aggressively thrashed your body. This couldn’t be happening, you needed to get out of here, out of these restraints. Your muffled cries echoed throughout the room. The breakdown quickly unfolded when you realized it was pointless. Your eyes squinted shut, this had to be a dream, a nightmare. You needed to remain calm, what he said was true. Your judgment was clouded by your emotions. What would Bruce do? Fuck, as if he would ever end up in a situation like this.  

You were too focused on your attempts to control your breathing to realize that your ankle restraints had been uncuffed. Jonathan pushed your ankles up, bringing your knees up closer to your chest. He reattached the restraints to a closer pole, keeping your knees at a 155 degree bend. Your gown rode up to your hips, exposing your bare pussy. That’s when you realized what he had done. Jonathan walked over to the counter, opened a draw and retrieved a pair of silver scissors. He looked back at you and gave you a wicked grin. Your head shook excessively, as if it would change anything. 

“I’ve wanted to do this since I met you. I regret not fucking you in Arkham. I was just such a workaholic I didn’t want my urges to get in the way. I thought of it as unprofessional. But I’ve become open to exploring new methods” he said slowly as he approached you. You resisted, knowing it was pointless but it was natural reflexes regardless. He towered over you, briefly admiring you before cutting the gown straight down the middle. You cried out as the last inch was snipped apart. Jonathan grinned as his large hands traveled all over your heated body. “I jerked off to you after every session” he admitted proudly, playing with your plump tits. He pushed the cut gown to the sides of your body, you were completely exposed to him, mentally and physically. “I’m going to eat your cunt out now baby” he told you with a smirk. The low tone terrified you. 

He stood directly in front of you, his body leaned over onto the end of the bed. He crawled up high enough for his upper body to easily lay on the bed. “God, you’re fucking dripping!” he exclaimed as he examined your wet region. “Is this all because of me, my sweetness?” he taunted. You refused to give him any pleasure by responding. But he was too focused on the sight of your sweet spot anyways. 

Jonathan examined your cunt. His fingers stroked your folds. You whined, shaking your restricted body in an attempt to get him to back off. He harshly smacked your pussy and you cried into the cloth. “Stop resisting” he growled, his long fingers returning to their playful manner. 

You didn’t like this, at all. However, from his touch you couldn’t help but to feel weakened. Your knees felt like jelly. The further his strokes went, the heavier your breathing got. You didn’t notice your hips flex forward to Jonathan, back arching. He grinned at your sexual response to his touch. You liked this, he knew you did. One finger slipped inside of you, causing you to groan painfully. Fuck, you were tight. Pristine tight. You cried as he finger curled inside of you. His eyebrows furrowed as he looked up to you, realization glowed in his eyes. 

“Oh my” he breathed out as he analyzed your expression. He slid another finger inside of you to confirm his theory, you were a sobbing mess from this. “Oh my!” he exclaimed as he pulled his fingers out. He climbed on top of you and grabbed onto your jawline. “Did you forget to tell me something very important darling?” he questioned you, a wicked smirk on his cold lips. Your eyes swelled up, this was so humiliating. You kept your eyes low and he harshly tapped his fingers onto your cheek until you looked up to him. “Have you ever been touched? Fucked?” His dark eyes demanded an answer, his hands loosened enough for you to lower your jaw. He forgot about the cloth in your mouth from excitement. 

You could always lie, but he knew when you were lying. You shook your head, still in his grip.

“Not even by yourself?”

Another shake of the head. 

A dark laugh echoed through the room. “Fuck, do you know how arousing that sounds? Too busy fighting crime to get dicked down. No wonder you’re such a stuck up cunt hm?” he chuckled, caressing your heated cheeks.

Jonathan’s words were too overwhelming. So you just cried, face still in his grip. He comforted you by petting your cheeks and brushing your hair to the side. He couldn’t help but to feel irritated by this information as well. A sudden urge to make love to you rather than to fuck you. No, you’ll like the way he fucks you. There is no choice in the matter. When your cries became minimized he slid back down your exposed body.

“You’re going to taste so fucking devine” he commented, stroking your gushing region once more. “Your body will be so delicate to my touch. I can’t wait to explore all of these new experiences with you. If you are good and embrace my touch I’ll take it easy with you. If not, I’ll make you scream. Not in a good way” Jonathan explained as he gripped onto your outer thighs. 

You whined at the first lick, eyes rolling back as your head dug back into the bed. Jonathan quietly moaned at your sweet taste. It was everything he dreamed of and more. His lips attacked your cunt as his tongue slipped inside of you. A scream of pleasure escaped your mouth. It was humiliating, enjoying pleasure from this evil man. You harshly bit onto the cloth to avoid another muffled moan satisfying his ears. It was amazing with how quickly your orgasm was building, it had only been a couple of minutes. Your legs began to tremble and fists formed. Jonathan’s nose pressed against your clit as he viciously ate you out as if he hadden eating all day. 

He pulled his mouth away, but quickly replaced your tender cunt with the touch of his digits. Two fingers easily slipped inside of you. Muffled cries snuck out. But the deeper his fingers went inside of you, the harder it was to hide your moans. 

“You’re so close to coming already. Making me feel a bit pompous honestly” he chuckled.

You couldn’t help yourself when his fingers reached your g-spot. It felt magnificent, your warm walls squeezing around fingers. He slid in four digits, causing an awful cry of pleasure mixed with pain. You were climaxing in the worst way. Jonathan’s expression looked crazed, like he was a wild animal teasing his prey. It was a surprise that he hadn’t creamed in his pants already. You rode out your very first orgasm on his filthy fingers. Your hips naturally rocked on his fingers back and forward as you became undone. 

You felt like you were going to pass out. Nostrils flared as your body fell back into the bed, it was so fucking hard to breathe. It went unpassed as he untied all of your restraints. Your eyes squeezed shut from exhaustion and embarrassment. You rejected the thoughts of you enjoying the assault, enjoying Jonathan’s touch. 

Your bloodshot eyes opened again when you felt Jonathan climb on top of you. His covered erection poked your thigh as he watched your manner. But his eyes locked onto your gagged mouth. He gently pulled the cloth out of your mouth. You gasped for air, chest raised. 

“Hm, I’ve kissed your pussy before your mouth” he grinned. It was a foul joke. It made you physically gag which he didn’t like at all. He ordered you to kiss him. 

You whimpered at the pain of your sore jaw. But he was gentle with you, his tongue slipped in and lower lip massaged yours. It felt nice, relaxing to feel his touch in this manner. He caressed your breasts as his lips nipped your neck. You let out a soft moan and pressed your body against his, arms wrapped around his upper back. It felt like bliss, the comforting touch to your sensitive body. Your bodies molded together, his breathing was by your ear as you felt your soul leave your body. It felt too good to be true. That’s when you realized it was. You were being physically and emotionally vulnerable with your assaulter. Your body tensed and he noticed immediately. 

“What is it?” he questioned, sounding concerned to the slightest. He stared into your teary eyes, the back of his hand softly stroked your cheek. His free hand lowered to your stomach in an attempt to comfort you.

You regretted it immediately. The action went without a thought. You just saw an opportunity and didn’t think of what the consequences would be. The slap echoed throughout the room and it was followed by complete silence. It was a surprise that you even had the strength to land the hit. You laid frozen as his head remained in the position your hand forced it to. If anything, it was your opportunity to escape. But that slap had used all of your strength. Slowly his dark eyes turned to you, his thighs keeping you trapped underneath him. You stared back at him in fear, waiting for his fury. He backhanded you, again and again. A last gasp for breath left your lips as his hands wrapped around your throat. You struggled underneath him, your face quickly turning red in the process. His expression was emotionless as your fingers dug into his hands, forearms, anything to break the grip. 

“Fucking ungrateful bitch” he growled. “You know, I was going to be nice and wait to fuck you until tomorrow. I thought it would have been a kind gesture to give you some recovery time since, being a pure virgin and all. But you’re just a bit of a fucking brat now aren’t you? Unfortunately I’ll just have to show you my rough side as well” he snarled to you. 

It was a lie, he was going to fuck you today regardless. It was just amusing to fuck with your mind. Your vision became blurred and your hands fell to your sides. He let go of his grip and you gasped for air. His hands quickly gripped onto the sides of your head, his fingers tugged roughly at the roots of your hair. 

“Apologize to me” he spat his demand.

“I’m sorry!” you cried. “I didn’t mean to hit you. I wasn’t thinking straight” you cried your explanation. The apology was genuine but that didn’t satisfy him. 

“Show me you’re sorry” he ordered. You blinked as you processed his words. You tried to move your head closer to his but his fingers pulled your hair back. You winced as you figured you had to work harder to kiss him. Jonathan watched your frustrated and distressed look as you tried to press your lips against his.

“Please let me kiss you” you begged. He chuckled, and let go of your hair. You kissed him desperately, your tongue slid into his mouth. He didn’t like it at all. It felt way too forced by you. Jonathan pulled away and slapped you. 

“You’re trying too hard baby. It’s rather embarrassing” he laughed. “Now, don’t make any rash decisions as I fuck you. Despite my pleasure, I think you’d prefer not to be drugged into a state of  paralysis”. 

Jonathan stood up on his knees, you being trapped underneath him. He towered over you as he began to unbutton his shirt. His eyes did not drift away from yours as he dropped the shirt to the ground. Skin as pale as ghost and had little body fat and muscle definition. It was confusing how easily he could overpower you, drugs you’d guess. “Is there any fantasies on how you want to be fucked little one?” Jonathan teased. 

“No” you spat. 

Jonathan hummed as he slid off the bed. Your lower region was still raw from your orgasm. He unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his trousers. He pushed down the clothing enough for him to pull his cock out. A cry left your sore lips. His size was much bigger than you’d imagined. Maybe it was just an illusion, his cock just looked bigger because of his small size. Stroking his cock Jonathan ordered you to turn to your side. You buried your head into the bed as you turned your body away from him. 

He pulled your hips towards him, his cock rested by your entrance. You whimpered at the feeling of him against you. He caressed your ass a little bit as he lined his cock up. “This is going to hurt, a lot” he warned you with zero care. With one forceful thrust, he was completely inside of you. It wasn’t an illusion, he was as big as you thought. The inside walls of you cunt ached as it stretched around him. It was instinct for you to scream and it was diabolical for Jonathan to enjoy your sounds of agony. 

You wanted to thrash out, attack him. But you knew the consequences, how easily he would be able to restrain you. And you didn’t wish to know what torture he would bring upon you. So instead you just laid there crying with him watching you, your fingers curled into the fabric. Jonathan’s grip on your hip tightened as he began to thrust viciously. He popped your cherry quickly, your blood coated his cock and he thought that it was a heavenly sight. He stared at the back of your head as his balls smacked against your core. 

“I want you to look at me while I fuck you” he ordered, his jaw clenched and nostrils flared. You did as he said and turned your head back. His mouth fell open as you two stared at one another. “How does it feel? Losing your virginity in this state? I bet you feel like a dirty little whore. Good, because you like this, I can feel your cunt clench around me. You’re dripping darling” he pointed out, you were. The thrusts became easier because of how wet you were from this. 

His finger drew blood for your hip as his thrusts continued at the same quick, rough pace. He analyzed your expression, noticing your eyes trying not to roll back and jaw lowering open. “Are you about to climax again darling?” he asked with a grin, he could feel it. You shook your head, not wanting to believe it yourself. A harsh smack landed on your bruised hip causing you to yelp. “Don’t lie baby” he warned in a low voice. 

“Yes!” You cried out. Jonathan laughed at how easy it was to unfold you.  

“Don’t let me hold you back. By all means, come!” he commanded, slapping your ass in the process. 

Quickly after that, you followed through with his command. You cried out, eyes completely rolled back, mouth panting for air, chest tightened and body falling numb. Your head fell back as you rode out your orgasm on Jonathan’s cock, hips rocking in rhythm. 

“The little virgin really must love my cock” he noted. 

“Please- stop. I-” you were lost for words. Could he blame you? Two orgasms in a row when you’ve never even attempted it before? Jonathan chuckled darkly at your request. 

“Darling, I’m not even close to finishing. You’re just going to have to hold it out. Maybe we should see if I can get a few more in?” He smirked and you shook your head. 

You couldn’t do this, you’ve had enough. You twisted your body back in an attempt to push him out of you. He reacted quickly and climbed on top of you. His cock slipped out as he grabbed onto your chin. His eyes gave you a warning not to disobey him as he realigned his member. With an easy push, he was back inside of your sweet canal. He bit your neck roughly as he found the right angle to fuck you. You moaned, he felt so fucking good and you hated it. 

Jonathan stared at your expression. Fear mixed with pleasure. It was the ultimate combination. He kissed you passionately, his tongue sliding down to your throat. You tried to fight him off with your own tongue but it was no use. You didn’t notice your arms snaking around his back to hold him close to you, as if he’d leave at any moment. 

“You like this” he taunted. You ignored his words and just focused on him fucking you, feeling yet another orgasm building up inside of you. But then he stopped fucking you all together. His cock slipped out of you and you frowned at him. You almost asked as to why he had stopped. Has he finished? “If you want me to continue fucking you, you’ll ask me nicely” he explained, a sly look on his face. 

You laughed weakly, he wasn’t serious? Why would you want him to continue? But then he rubbed your clit and you knew why you wanted him to continue. Humiliation was such a turn on. You cried, your chaotic thoughts were too much to unpack. Why would you even dare to ask him to continue? But you were already so close again and the discomfort in your core was becoming unbearable as he rubbed you just enough to keep you on edge but not enough to push you over. 

“Don’t feel guilty about your pleasures Y/N. Your body betrays your mind, it’s so fascinating isn’t it? The relationship between the mind and body. There’s no point in fighting it. Just embrace it, embrace my touch” 

His words felt like bliss. He was so smooth tongued. It was true, you did enjoy this, well your body did at least. What was the point in fighting? You had already lost to him. 

“Please” you whimpered, keeping your head low.

“No” his reply was blank.

“Please!” you sobbed, head shooting up to look at him. Your eyes screamed desperation and irritation.

“Please what? Please Doctor Crane fuck me? I’m such a pathetic greedy little slut that wants to come again?” His words were a slap to the face. It was as mortifying as you thought. 

“Yes that yes!” your response was quick. “Please- I want, I want your cock inside of me. I want to feel you inside of me” you said overwhelmed. You were whimpering a lot, your hips rocking on his thumb.  

Jonathan watched you rub yourself on him and bit his lip. “Oh, you really are a fucking slut. But you’re my slut. You’re mine. But I think you know that already. You’ve always known. Don’t you?” He grinned. You hummed and nodded your head. You shrieked when he pinched your clit. “Use your words girl!” he growled. 

“Yes! I-I’m yours!” you answered. Tears streamed down your cheeks and your mouth trembled.

“Oh you make me want to come so hard. I want you to hold it out. Can you do that for me baby? Wait for me so we can come together” he grinned as he lined his cock at your entrances, brushing against your wet folds. You nodded your head in agreement. Whatever, whatever he wanted. 

The force of his thrusts was like a jackhammer. For a man his size, he sure had stamina. Your foreheads pressed together, fingers interlocked and your legs weakly wrapped around his waist. It terrified you because you came before him. You just couldn’t help yourself. But he didn’t stop so you rode out your high as best as you could. You knew he was about to come undone. Both of your hips locked forward at the same time. Jonathan groaned loudly as you clenched against his shooting cock. His eyes squeezed shut as he held you tight and head flung back. His thrusts came to a sudden stop, his cock completely inside of you, his load spurting deep inside of you. With a few more softer thrusts, Jonathan pulled his soaked cock out of you. 

He let out a satisfied sigh. “I told you it wouldn’t be considered rape” he reminded you expressionless, not even breathless unlike yourself. 

You broke down, unable to control your emotions. You were a sobbing mess. Surely he’s drugged you with something else, right? But the gut feeling inside of you told you otherwise. Too many conflicting thoughts were fighting with each other. After watching you for a quick moment, he got off of you and fixed himself up, redressing himself and combing back his damp hair from all of the sweat as you laid there helpless. There was the opportunity that you tried to make a run for it, but the success rate was at minimum at this point. 

The Doctor went over the sink and ran a cloth under warm water. Ringing out the water, he walked back over to you and began to clean you up, completely ignoring your state of distress. Aftercare was the least of your expectations. He left your cunt till last. His fingers pressed up against the folds of your entrance. A mixture of your fluids oozed out.

“What a sight” he murmured to himself. 

You whined and hissed as he cleaned your raw, swollen, abused cunt. When he was done, he chucked the cloth into the sink and climbed back onto the bed next to you. You silenced yourself, expecting him to make another attack on you. He watched over you quietly and you weren’t sure what to do. It was like he was a crazed monkey waiting to snap.

“You’re still such a good girl for me” he cooed as he planted soft kisses all over your heated skin. The memories of your history filled his mind. There was a passionate kiss shared between you two, the type that doesn’t show desire but shows romantic intimacy. You kissed him back gently, it felt nice and you hated it. Jonathan pulled away and wiped your tears. “You still know your place. Mhm, you took my cock so well baby. I’m so proud of you little one” he praised as he groped your tits. “God, who knows, I might just fall in love with you” he laughed softly, kissing you once more.

[darlingsfandom]

Could you write about a hardcore dirty Cillian Murphy dr crane non con smut?

TW: CNC!, swearing , nipple sucking, p in v unprotected , cream pie, semi stalking.

You sighed softly as you pulled the blanket over your lower half, fluffed the pillow and switched through the tv channels until you found something that caught your attention. An episode passed by before you found yourself falling asleep.

The wind blew in from your cracked window. No matter how often he told you to keep it closed, you never listened. You had been with Jonathan for over a year and you’ve had your ups and downs and now was one of the down moments. The two of you had got into it about having dinner with your friends that he couldn’t stand. He told you that they were no good for you, but you don’t listen to him about it because he himself has no friends. Now you were sleeping alone in your house while he was either at work again or in his own home, you didn’t care! You were mad that he never wanted to do what you wanted.

You found yourself stirring a little in your sleep. It was a mix from the breeze, your emotions and the fact you had to pee. After debating for a minute you got up to use the bathroom and by the time you got back something felt weird. You shook off the feeling and got back into bed. Your eyes instantly closed and your soft snores filled the room along with the tv softly speaking which was comforting to his ears as he watched you from your closet.

Jonathan had snuck into yourself very carefully. He knew your routine , you’re a creature of habit which he enjoyed for this very reason and the fact it was easy to track you like a lost puppy. You were his little lost puppy. He watched as you turned on your side. You looked like a mess but so peaceful. Your tit was hanging out of your tank top, which had hardened since the cool air kept blowing in, your hair was sticking to the side of your face and your mouth was slightly parted. He lingered for an hour watching how you turned , how you snored, how a tiny moan caught his attention.

The sound of your moan perked his ears. Your nose was scrunching as your legs moved in a way he found interesting. Jonathan moved slowly towards you as you stirred. He moved until he was at the edge of your bed and licked his lips. His hands stroked the side of your head softly making you purr. He stood over you inhaling your scent slowly until you started to slowly wake up from your dream.

Your eyes slowly opened and it was still dark but you could tell that someone was standing there in your sleepy state. The scream you let out was quickly covered as he slapped his hand over your mouth while he climbed over top of you.

“Keep that pretty little mouth shut.” He whispered into your ear while you squirmed beneath him. Jonathan grabbed the bottom of your shirt and hiked it up and took it off. He kept his hand over your mouth as he lowered his head to suck on your nipples slowly. He always loved sucking on your perky nipples made him feel a certain way. You whined against his hand as you laid there like a good girl. He switched from one nipple to the other looking up at you to see your pleading eyes. Jonathan slowly pulled on your nipples with his teeth making you scream against his hand. He looked at you with that certain look that made your thighs clench.

You watched as he stood up and grabbed your hips to peel off your shorts. Part of you wanted to kick him but you knew better than to disobey him. Johnathan undid his own pants slowly as you laid like you were glued to the bed. Slowly he climbed back on top of you.

“Be my good girl and just take it.” He rubbed the head of his cock against your folds. “You’re always such a good girl. You’re such a simple creature, never wears panties to sleep, always in a tight little top, so easy to take advantage of you.” You were clenching around nothing. It was wrong that his words and actions turned you on this much! It was disgusting yet you loved it. He held your thighs open as he pushed the head of his cock into your tight hole making him moan in the way you liked.

“Fuck! You have such a nice pussy sweetheart.” You whined loudly as Jonathan pushed all the way in. He held onto your hips pinning you down . You laid there taking it as he slowly thrusted his hips in and out of you watching how you sucked him in each time. You went to grab his arms but he moved his hands and gripped your wrist to pin them above your head. Jonathan leaned down and kissed you hard making you moan against his lips while he picked up his pace and started pounding into you like his life depended on it.

You laid there taking the pounding. You were his little doll, a fuck toy that took every inch of him while he moaned above you about how sweet you are, how your pussy was made for him and you loved every second of it. Jonathan was squeezing your wrist hard and his thrusts got sloppy. Before you could say anything, he was whining out his high as he pumped you full of cum!

“No no! Pull out! I’m not on the pill! You tried to scratch at his hands but it was too late!

Jonathan smirked to himself as he pulled out and tapped the head of his cock against your tummy before standing up, turning on the lamp on your bedside table and grabbed some tissues.

“I will say darling, that was a very good idea you had.” He gave you a kiss on the head as you laid there with a smile. Sure, no normal person would find this normal but CNC was something you two wanted to try for a while and it was worth it.

[supercap2319]

"Why don't we skip the song and dance, Jase, and go straight to the fun part?" Y/N landed on the same building as the infamous Red Hood. The ruthless and the most dangerous criminal and vigilante in Gotham City.

Jason had been teaming up with Jonathan Crane, and despite Dicks's warnings to stay away from Jason, Y/N couldn't. Even now, with a gun pointed at him. Jason cocked his gun. "I don't know. Blowing your brains out seems like fun to me." Jason said.

"Yeah, until my canary cry stops your bullets." Y/N told him. "Why don't you really tell me why you're so angry and scary."

"Keep talking, and I'll show you just how angry and scary I can be."

"You know, Jason. They say when a man is pissed, he needs to either take a load off or blow a load. Which one are you? A guy with poison inside his mind or a horny criminal who needs to get off?"

Jason chuckled. "Why don't you come closer and find out?"

Y/N smiled. "I will."

[acapelladitty]

a lesson learned

Summary - After a failed attempt to escape being owned by Roman Sionis, he brings in the infamous Scarecrow to help correct such behaviours. (2.1k words)

(tw: sexual slavery, non-con, sa, whipping, mentions of previous abuse, restraints, open for a sequel)

Fic Masterlist ☆ Link to AO3 ☆ Kofi

Trying to escape Roman had been a foolish dream at best and Violet’s panicked eyes took in the scene before her as she struggled against the hard wood of the ‘x’ shaped restraint she had been placed against and strapped into. Her head throbbed, a delayed pain of the earlier blow which Roman had delivered to her skull, and her vision was bleary as her gaze darted between the two men who observed her with sadistic glee.

"Stupid bitch needs a lesson in manners." Roman spoke, directing his words to the man who stood by his side - his impressive height looming over Romans’ own. "She needs to know never to fuck with me again and I thought you would be the perfect solution to help 'correct' her bad behaviour, Dr Crane."

"Of course, Mr. Sionis." In full costume minus his mask, Jonathan Crane cut a terrifying figure and Violet sobbed into her fabric gag as she listened to them speak. "I'm always happy to lend my professional assistance with difficult patients. This one is even prettier than the last. How would you like her?"

"Broken and obedient, but not totally fucked up like the last one. She had to be sold at a reduced price because of all that babbling that your chemical shit snapped her into."

Ignoring the criticism, Crane nodded. "Modifications?"

"Eh," Roman shrugged, blowing out a puff of smoke from his cigar, "nothing nasty to look at. Maybe just the usual stuff that will make it hard for her to see herself as anything but a fuck toy to be used and abused.”

"Simple enough, Mr. Sionis. And I trust you will be joining me to assist in my work?"

"Of course. Maroni is up to some shit these days so I've been needing to keep an eye on him. I could use the opportunity to blow off some steam by listening to this stupid bitch scream.”

"Perfect. Then I suppose I'll begin my initial examination now."

Having been forced to listen to their entire exchange, Violet’s body shook violently. The last month had been a living hell, her forced abduction as she travelled home from work being only the beginning of her torments – a fact which quickly became known to her as she awoke in some kind of holding pen which housed two other women. They had been the ones to tell her of her new reality, a reality of her being little more than a sex object to be trained and used by anyone her new owner saw fit.

It was information which had sent her into a spiral of despair, her body thrashing and screaming out as it pummelled the iron door which kept her from freedom. In fact, she had kicked up such a fuss that her new owner had personally come to pay her a visit and check out his latest merchandise.

Roman Sionis, alias Black Mask.

He had been terrifying, standing tall as his goons dragged her from her holding cell and took her to one of the training rooms – an experience which still made her shudder to this day as they each took turns in using the various tools and instruments which Roman has collected to discipline his toys. It was an encounter which broke something within Violet, their abuse of her body and use of her various holes leaving her a sobbing, aching mess who had then been unceremoniously flung back into the holding pen as the other woman glanced at her with open fear.

But still, despite it all, after weeks of being forced into the most degrading and painful sex acts as an amusement for Roman and his various friends, Violet had gathered the strength to attempt an escape and had barely managed to make it past the second security door before she found herself taking a harsh baton to the stomach. A blow which winded her in an instant and made her drop to her knees, unable to do anything but struggle to breathe – it was almost a relief when the dark boot of the guard collided with her head and knocked her clean out.

The bliss of unconsciousness didn’t last forever though and awaking tied to this cross – her entire body nude and on display for the two master criminals who stood before her – had been almost as terrible as everything else she had been forced to endure.

She knew who the Scarecrow was, everyone in Gotham did, and to have him bearing down on her for a ‘medical’ examination made her heart stutter in her chest as the gag in her mouth held back her desperate pleas.

His hands were gloved, the digits long and thin as they pinched and groped at her body – sizing her up like a fresh slab of meat, like cattle at a market. He paid particular attention to her tits and plucked at her nipples until they were aching and reddened as she trembled in place.

“Lovely tits, don’t you think?” Roman interrupted, palming his cock through his slacks as he pulled a fresh cigar from his inner pocket, quickly lighting it up as he watched Crane with a cruel expression.

“Quite the specimen,” Crane agreed and Violet’s body stiffened in place as his thin fingers dropped from her tits to thrust unceremoniously up her sex, the two fingers feeling rough and extremely uncomfortable given her lack of preparation. “Receptive and responsive too,” he continued as his fingers pumped within her cunt for a few moments before pulling out just as roughly.

Crane’s fingers, the same ones which had just been within her, gripped at Violet’s chin as he forced her to meet his gaze.

“Do you think we should allow her to choose?”

“Nah, fuck her. Use the cable,” Roman replied, blowing out a thick puff of smoke as Violet thrashed against her restraints at the words.

The cable was a thin piece of wire, folded over on itself to create a loop which stung like hell as it tore into the skin of its victim and Violet had only experiences it once, the day after she arrived, as Roman – in his own words – gave her a taste of her life to come.

Seeing the cable in Crane’s hand as he picked it up from the table which housed all of Roman’s toys, Violet sobbed as he approached – stuttered pleas for mercy falling onto deaf ears as Crane paused for a second to drink in her misery before beginning her punishment.

The swish of the folded cable registered for only a moment before pain exploded across her thighs and she cried out, the sting of the wire red hot against her exposed skin. With no time to recover, she screamed as the cable struck again and her ankles pulled against the unforgiving restraints.

Miserable, Violet’s own sobs almost choked her as she thrashed against the cross. Crane was meticulous in his work, painting everything from her thighs to her tits and stomach with his swings – the exertion making him pant as he shifted his body to achieve new angles and reach new skin. Fire flashed across her skin, every targeted area an inferno of agony and heat as the thin wire instantly welted her flesh. Lost in the unyielding sensation, at one point she swore she felt something wet trickly down her leg and she knew the skin there had broken under the assault.

Crane stopped eventually and Violet fell weakly against her restraints, her body limp and roaring with agony as she observed her welted flesh through teary eyes. Her body hadn’t been whipped in some time, enough for all the previous marks to have fully healed up, and the fresh skin bore the brunt of her punishment without mercy.

Loose against her restraints as her body wavered on the edge of consciousness, Violet didn’t have long to wait though, as Roman moved quickly.

His hands were firm as they ripped the restraints free of her wrists and ankles, his nails clawing into his skin as he pinned her skin in place to get the metal free. Now free, Violet dropped to the floor with a solid thud but any attempt to scramble away from their punishments was impossible as Roman immediately fell on her like a rabid dog.

Violet shuddered as he entered her, his cock immediately sinking deep into her cunt without any care for her comfort. It hurt, his rough fucking almost like he was trying to drive her though the floor as he took the opportunity to grip her hips so hard that she knew the skin there would be bruised. It was just another humiliation and the chill of the ground was welcomed against her heated face as she slammed her eyes shut and held as still as she could.

Her face pressed against the floor, Violet could only endure as Roman brutally fucked away at her stinging sex, his every thrust igniting fresh heat in the whip marks which littered her body as her skin was dragged across the cold flooring.

“You want some sloppy seconds, Dr?” Roman snarled as he plunged his cock without mercy. “Or you could fuck her ass if you want? She won’t mind.”

“As tempting as your offer is, I will decline at this moment.”

Thankful, Violet turned her eyes far enough to catch Crane’s face but any hope that he was a better man than the monster fucking her was snuffed out in an instant as she took in the tent of his groin and the amusement in his gaze as he watched her suffer.

With a stuttering groan, Roman came and Violet shuddered as she felt the heat of his release filling her while he scored his nails across her welted skin. Anything to cause her more discomfort as she whimpered and squealed under his punishing hands and cock. But he pulled free just as quickly as he had entered her and she groaned in discomfort as she took in the ache of her sex and the stinging heat of her whipped skin.

Violet lay out on the floor, unable to move and much too afraid to even attempt it and her eyes slammed shut as she heard the steady movement of feet and the zip of Roman’s fly as he tucked his stained cock away.

“Y’know, if she wasn’t such a tight fuck, I’d probably have sold her off to Valentin or some other freak for her disobedience. She’s one lucky cunt and I don’t even think she appreciates it.”

“Spare the rod, spoil the child, Mr Sionis.” Violet heard Crane agree. “I think you’re more that capable of correcting her behaviours and I am always delighted to offer my services.”

“Speaking of which, I know you’ve still got to get your cock wet so let’s get going.”

Two pairs of hands wrapped around her quivering body and Violet screamed in surprise as both men pulled her to her feet and slammed her against the cross which she had only just been released from. The wood was rough against her back and Violet only tried to struggle once against the hands, a movement which was immediately put to rest by Roman’s gloved hand as it cracked hard against her jaw – sending her head ricocheting to the side as she howled in pain.

Violet felt the cold metal of the shackles as they once again fully restrained her to the cross. Her sore pussy continued to leak Roman’s release and it spread messily across her thighs as she writhed in place against the wood. She had been punished and her skin bore the brunt of those marks, not to mention the aches which littered her face due to the various blows which Roman had previously delivered.

“Pl-please let me go?” She asked once more – knowing the words were meaningless to both men but being unable to help herself as Roman stepped back from her position. “Please? I won't run, won't be bad again.”

At her request, Roman laughed and the cruelty in his voice made her heart drop into her stomach.

“Let you go? Oh, you are one stupid whore. More stupid than I thought,” Roman chastised as he drummed his gloved fingers along the wooden table which housed his various tools of torment and toys. “You think a little light whipping and a good fuck are all the punishment you’re getting? Dumb cunt.”

Throwing up a casual thumb which indicated off to the side, Roman smirked viciously and Violet followed his direction to find Crane standing with an equally sadistic expression. Eyeing up the small pot of thin needles which Crane held within his hands with utter horror, Violet screamed and screamed until her lungs started to burn as she understood that far from being over, her time with both men had barely begun.

[permafrown]

24 for kiss prompts. With the Scaring Crow🫵

24 • blowing a kiss

-> After ditching a charity party in favor of exploring the empty halls of Gotham University, Irene and Jonathan share a moment. (361 words)

"I think it would be in my best interest to kiss you right about now," Irene muses, eyes never straying from the large window before them, admiring the bustle and lights below.

They wait until they feel Jonathan's eyes on them, waiting for them to elaborate, before they turn to meet his gaze, a playful grin on their face.

"But, tempting as it is, I'd hate to send the esteemed Professor Jonathan Crane back out into the fray with tell-tale marks all over his face."

Jonathan's response is a slow, bemused exhale before he speaks.

"Surely," he starts, taking a step closer to Irene, taking both of their hands in his. "We both know that we're well-past the need to uphold reputation-" He goes to lean in, but he's halted by Irene putting their hand to his chest.

"Ah bub bub," they interject. "I insist," they say, pulling a hand away to put it over their chest in a show of heartfelt dramatics. "Really."

They're toying with him. In the midst of everything; emotions running high, that undeniable spark between them fresh and burning deliciously, and Irene Churchill is still toying with him.

Jonathan glances off to the side with a soft chuckle, before looking back at his mischievous plus one. "Well then," he tilts his head "perhaps you'd consider a compromise, Ms. Churchill?"

He pulls Irene closer to him, holding them close with his arms wrapped around their waist.

"Perhaps so." They hum. Lifting their hand they kiss their palm, blowing the man before them a kiss, before gently patting his cheek.

"Goodnight, Jonathan." They say softly, pulling away from his embrace as they begin to walk down the dim hallway, boots clicking with every step until Jonathan could hear them no more.

Once alone, Jonathan reached to his cheek to feel where they had left their indirect kiss. When he looked at his hand once, a grin found it's way onto his face as he noticed one thing in particular.

The tip of his fingers were stained red.

[riddle-me-ri]

For your follower event:

Could you do the Arkham visit drabble with Murphy Scarecrow? His just as crazy (though, crazy might be a strong word) wife pays him a visit…maybe a long-term visit? 👀

A/N: Asddfgghjk crazy may not be strong ENOUGH lmao, this was super interesting to write about, hope you enjoy Loki! Slightly nsfw but nothing explicit, just a lot of kissing and heavy touching.

Word Count: 557

Nolanverse/Murphy Scarecrow - Arkham Visit

“Darling, what are you doing here?” 

Jonathan sat up straight in the chair, shocked to see not his psychiatrist but you standing there instead with a bright smile on your face. 

“I’ve come to see you, Jonny.” You chuckled. “Surprised to see me?” 

Jonathan nodded. “Very much, so…should I ask how you managed this?” 

You shrugged coyly. ‘You could and I’ll answer, but I want to get comofortable first.” 

The Scarcrow’s piercing blue eyes followed you closely as you made your way around the metal table and beside your husband. You motioned for him to scoot his seat back and you casually sat in his lap sideways like you used to at his office desk back at home. 

Jonathan chuckled breathlessly, “this might not be a good idea, darling…”

You shushed him softly, raising one hand to comb through his dark brown locks and the other hand brough his handcuffed hands to your lap. As much as Jon was pleased to see you and be close to you again…his mind still raced at just how you pulled this off. 

You could tell Jonathan’s curiosity was taking over, as you knew all too well when he mind was set on something it was hard to snap him out of it. 

You framed his strong jawline with your hands and pulled his face closer. Your thumbs caressed his cheeks, before you gently pressed your lips to his. 

The sweet kiss soon turned passionate as you sneakily slid your tongue between his lips when he took a small gasp of air in between kisses. 

Soon you were smiling into the kiss as heard Jonathan’s pleased moans. You could feel his hands gripping your thighs as he tried to keep you close despite having his hands restricted. You broke the kiss for a second to help him get his arms around you so he can properly grip you by the waist. 

Despite still being handcuffed it didn’t take long for his hands to find their way underneath your blouse; reaching, groping, holding any bit of skin he could while he could. 

Jonathan broke your entangled lips but this time he began leaving hot lingering kisses along your neck and collarbones. He even left some love bites along the way causing you to throw your head back in pleasure. 

“J-Jonathan…mmm…” You moaned, causing him to bite you harder at conjunction of your neck and shoulder.

Your hands gripped and pulled his hair slightly. You could feel bruises form on your skin as he gripped your so tightly you could feel his fingernails slightly stab your skin and the cool metal of the handcuffs growing less cold against your hot skin. 

“Put your hands up where I can see them!” A loud voice shouted. 

Jonathan’s face shot up from your neck and you just pouted before slowly sliding off your husband’s lap. 

“I said put your-!” 

“All right, all right, geez.” You complied and stood still or else you would get reprimanded once more. 

“Mrs. Crane?” A woman in a lab trench coat walked in. 

“Yes?” 

“Come with me, we’ve got a room for you in another wing…you’ll be joining your husband here at the asylum.” 

Jonathan’s mouth dropped open as you shrugged at the information and walked out compliantly, but not before blowing him a kiss before leaving. 

What did you do?

[king-crane]

SABBATICAL.

@2ndbat Professor Jonathan Ichabod Crane wasn't exactly the most popular man in Gotham City. He had the respect of his students, his colleagues... and a few of his former criminal compatriots. Every now and then, his mind drifted to the Society - had Luthor finally kicked the bucket? Had Grodd found his secret to immortality? Were either of them still there? It really didn't matter, except to illustrate the depths he had once sunk to - and the depths that clawed at him once again. Bodies littered the lobby of the Humanities and Sociology building of Gotham University, most of them broken beyond recognition, but still somehow breathing. The sixty-eight year old professor wields his cane with the dexterity and grace of someone four decades younger, and cracks skulls with as much precision as a surgeon. By the time the authorities cleaned up the other buildings, Crane was left in the lobby, surrounded by the unconscious bodies of gangsters, wheezing and collapsing against his cane. His once blue overcoat was now a deep red, and as police flocked to him to check his condition, he reflexively holds his hands out, waiting for restraints. The restraints never come. Instead, he is met with only confusion, except for from a vaguely familiar face. The commissioner, Barbara Gordon. "Crane." Her voice is laced with what feels like venom, but she keeps her gaze level. He can barely speak, his lungs screaming in protest as he does so regardless. "Arkham. Take me... to Arkham."

Crane would soon find, of course, that Arkham had been demolished. He remembered, of course - destroyed, after what happened with Joker. Still, he was going to the next best place, the Leslie Thompkins Medical Center. They still didn't put handcuffs on him. He was just defending himself and his students, or so they said - but he could feel the shadows at the corners of his vision coming alive once more. The police cruiser stops outside the hospital, and Crane steps out, leaning heavily on his cane. The officers who guide him in are gentle - they don't drag him. He realizes it must be because of his bruised body. They'll have time for the handcuffs later. Where was the Batman? And that pesky bird that always followed him? "Fools." He snarls, under his breath. "Fools, all of you. You think I cannot harm you, because I am old? I am the Master of Fear, the Lord of Terror! When I tell you to restrain me-" His words seem to fall on deaf ears and he huffs a bit more, but doesn't bother. After a visit with a doctor who is more concerned with his body than the fact that Crane could kill him with a single blow, he finally gets a cell. They had to be convinced (did they wish for him to just sleep outside?), but he finally got it, along with a set of warm, fresh clothes. The TV (why was there a TV in his cell) is set to the news, and, predictably, they're covering tonight. "-University found itself attacked by a gang of Jokerz, though casualties were minimalized thanks to the heroic efforts of Psychology Professor Jonathan Crane." Was she joking? There was nothing heroic about what he had done. He can feel the end approaching - it was only a matter of time before he relapsed completely. His vision was fading, the old burlap monster returning.

[apocalypse-shuffle]

SCARECROW | JONATHAN CRANE (general canon)

—

“Freakum Dress” (Scarecrow | Jonathan Crane x Fem!Reader)

| Tasked with going to a gala with your miserable boyfriend things are not looking up, then one of the Rogues makes a special appearance. Whether that’s a good thing or not is…yet to be decided.

| SFW, showing off a new outfit, (TW: murder, mild gore), reader has a good for nothing boyfriend -chubby!reader

| Pic source: Batman - The Long Halloween

| 1k+ words

“Are you sure this will fit the theme?” You question through the bathroom door.

Your partner sighs so loud it passes straight through the reinforced wood to reach your ears.

“How many times are you gonna ask me that question? Either come out or don’t, but I’m leaving. You’ve been in there for like an hour.”

He walks off then and in a fit you finish fixing your hair and then throw your spray bottle on the counter. An hour. He was acting a fool over you taking an hour, as opposed to his measly ass twenty minutes, to get ready.

You pull open the door and yell: “Are you fucking kidding me?”

He yells back at you from the living room.

“Hell yeah! You’ve got 10 minutes before I go without you!”

Your nose scrunches and you glare at the closed bedroom door before sucking your teeth.

Fine. This was just going to have to be the outfit you settled on. The man had given you barely a day to get your shit together for his gala, spouting about wanting to show you off, only to throw a fit when you started asking what he deemed to be too many questions.

You brush your hands down the sides of your dress. Personally you didn’t think asking what the theme was once could be classified as ‘too many questions’, but whatever. You already know he’s moody as hell. One of the many things you’ve been putting up with since agreeing to date him almost two years ago now.

You size yourself up in the mirror. At least you looked good. Your boyfriend might have been in a mood but you’d been cooped up in the house for too long. It’d do you some good to go out.

“Yes ma’am!” you spin a little to look at the back of the dress before wiping away a smudge of your lipstick from your chin. You smile then lock off the light and leave the bathroom.

“I think I’m ready,” you tell your boyfriend from where he’s sitting at the dining table. Then it’s your turn to get spontaneously annoyed as he looks you up and down.

He licks his lips. “Oh, you're in theme alright.”

You scoff, giving him a tight lipped smile as you grab your purse.

“Good to know,” you open the front door and toss him his keys as he follows you. “Now let’s go.”

•••

You can tell as soon as you enter the gala, clutching your boyfriend’s arm while he holds you close by the waist, that you weren't quite in theme.

It’s a Halloween party, so you know you’re not completely off, but while you’re dressed in a backless sparkly orange floor length cocktail dress, the other women around you are definitely not so chaste.

While you’d thought you’d go with something more classic that showed off your figure (fupa and all), everyone else, who clearly were allowed time to put their outfits together and told the actual theme, was dressed in giant ball gowns and elegant bouta and colombina masks.

You narrow your eyes and blow off air as you’re dragged around like a prized pony. Your boyfriend mostly takes to showing you off to every manner of his twitchy eyed business associates. You swear you break out in hives just being in their vicinity.

When he’s introducing you to the CFO of his company the man is simularily twitchy, problem is this time his eyes aren’t the only thing with no manners. You have to knock his hand off thrice and endure a chocolate innuendo and some real shitty flirting attempts all while your impotent excuse for a partner just cracks jokes and kisses ass.

It’s when the old man utters: “You got yourself a real good woman, Mr. Daniels, but I’d never let mine go out dressed so inappropriately.” that you really lose it.

There’s a split second where you just have to take in that those words actually just came out of his mouth before you gut react.

You cock your head, “Excuse me-?”

Stefan grabs you by the arm and jerks you back from where you’ve taken a step towards his superior.

“Excuse us! We're just going to get some air, Sir!”

Then you're gone, being dragged off to an empty balcony by your boyfriend and his tacky as hell penny loafers.

“You’re a fucking punk, you know that?”

“Don’t do this shit right now, Y/n.”

“I’ma do whatever the hell I please after you just stood there like a dummy and let your boss harass me.”

He shakes his head with a scoff and deposits you in a low lit corner of the balcony. He stands in front of you, blocking you from the rest of the attendees in the main room as you take a moment to catch yourself.

The long suffering way he rolls his eyes is oddly hurtful.

“And so what?”

“So what?” Your eyes widen and you stare at him in bewilderment.

“Yeah,” he stresses. “You know how hard I’ve been working to get this promotion and he says a few words and you lose your shit! Can’t you just support me for on—!”

“—Ohhh, don’t you just hate it when couples fight?”

The both of you freeze.

Stefan doesn’t even turn but you can’t help the way your eyes track to find the source of the voice. At the corner of the small three person balcony, just out of your line of sight, a figure sits crouched on the stone railing. Glowing red eyes stare back at you where the person’s balancing effortlessly and you fight the urge to let out some unholy mix of a choked back whimper and a noise of pure frustration.

Of course one of Gotham’s Rogues was what your night needed.

You’re still staring at him when Stefan finally unglues himself and turns to stare too, and the longer you look - the longer anyone takes to speak - the more the darkness seems to aid in distorting the image of Scarecrow taking stock like he’s high above the fields.

Honestly, the fear he elicits isn’t unfounded. A far cry from the Dr. Crane you once learned under and TA’d for, this version of the man barely registered as human.

Spindly arms and legs make up his majority, the features of an otherwise completely normal man but the way he wears them makes your skin crawl. As far as you can tell there’s been no sightly gas permeating in the air that wasn’t Gotham’s usual smog, but a steady tremur is settling under your flesh anyway.

“U-um,” Stef clears his throat, taking a shaky step even closer to the man on the other side of the balcony. He holds his hands up and they shake down to their very marrow. You feel him. “Listen,” he’s saying, and that’s his negotiation voice.

“I don’t want any problems, alright? Just- look,” he indicts you over his shoulder and instantly your heart seizes with betrayal.

“Stef-!”

You try to grab him, get him to stop. To think. Two years worth of a relationship down the drain for this? Sefan isn’t having it though and shrugs your hand off before taking yet another step towards the man of nightmares.

Your arms fall to your sides in defeat as he starts trying to make a deal, throwing you under the bus in any way he can possibly think to.

“I’m not worth it, alright, Man? Her though? She’s got enough trauma for the both of us. Just let me go and- and I won’t call the cops or anything. I’ll just leave, yeah?”

At Scarecrow's continued silence you watch detached as Stefan gets even closer, hands clasped together with a big wobbly smile on his face.

“C’mon man, right? You can’t tell me you don’t want a piece of that. She’s so fucked up it’s a miracle she’s not been committed yet…”

Your absolutely gutless waste of an ex keeps going on but you stop listening to him the second Scarecrow starts physically responding to his words.

Still performing his balancing act, like a great perching crow the man leans forward slightly. Though he’s clearly gearing up to address Stefan it seems - to your great horror - that he’s looking at you instead.

The salt from your tears burns your eyes, and similarly your heart turns to cinder in your chest as the villain contemplates you.

You glare at Stefan’s back.

Fucking Stefan.

Scarecrow cuts the man’s treacherous word vomit off not a fiery blink later.

“Alright now,” he says, tone nearly placating. That grand scythe the villain fancies so much makes its first appearance, swinging around to threaten at Stefan’s space without falter, “that’ll do, Pig,” Scarecrow rasps, and Stefan perks up, hopeful.

You have a split second to wonder what the fuck that means before the scythe retreats then comes swinging back around towards an unsuspecting Stefan.

All it takes is one fluid blur of movement and then in a slow slide you watch, breathe lodged uncomfortably in your throat, as his head separates from his body with a slick sound.

His head falls to the ground with a wet thud and you blink wildly down at it. So wildly in fact that when his body follows - knees first as if in prayer and then sprawled unceremoniously to the ground - you barely react.

A shift, boots scratching against stone, and your eyes snap back upwards.

The long pointy tipped hat he’s wearing falls languidly from the left to the right in his exertion before his dark gaze is panning back to meet your own.

A beckoning hand is held out to you, signs of a human hand inviting you closer. For a brief wandering second your eyes slide to the glass doors, to the party beyond, and you imagine.

Would you even make it past the first step? Jumping over your former partner’s fallen body would slow you down, and despite his skinny frame everyone in Gotham’s seen Scarecrow go toe to toe with the Dark Knight. Could you stand up against that?

The crudely stitched together burlap sack seems itself to breathe as the Scarecrow inhales to speak.

“Tick…tock,” he chimes and your fantasies fall to impossible pieces at your feet.

Blearily you blink over at him, eyes thankfully dry again.

“Breath,” he instructs a moment later, and despite your fear - or maybe because of it - you do as you’re told.

That first gasp of chilly air cuts its way down your dry throat so horribly you feel it the whole way down.

It’s enough of a shock to your system that you finally push through the trudge of your own terror to accept his invitation. Like this you only have to step over Stefan’s feet to cross the balcony and lay your hand in his.

Long pointed nails prick, light but incessant, into the skin of your palms as he appears to closely inspect your plump figure.

He’s bringing your hand up so he can spin you when he pauses, head tilting to the side. You swallow nervously and your hand starts shaking even more in his grip as he silently regards you.

“Ms. L/n?”

Shit.

“Who?” Your choked out words snap everything back in motion.

The cloth around the masked figure's mouth seems to stretch taunt, giving the nearest hint of a smile.

“Oh darling,” he croons. “You have just made the night so much more interesting.”

Up close like this he recognizes the face of his most engaging student from back in the day and you … ? Well, your stomach drops as you’re faced with the full attention of a madman.

Unbeknownst to you as your conversation was transpiring, mini squadrons of henchmen had infiltrated and were terrorizing the elites schmoozing on the inside. Clouds of sickly looking gas floating into the air.

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!!

Jonathan: *gives you a rebreather* "I expect a summary of tonight's events and an analysis of at least three different people's reactions by the time we leave.

You: *startled blinking & blindly taking whatever he hands you*

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it! this is a sideblog tho so I won’t respond.

[stvlti]

ahahah do titans for the ask game!!!!

Gladly!

Favorite character

It's gotta be Jason Todd, obviously. Curran Walters really brought out the theatre nerd and daddy issues in him 🥰

Second favorite character

I really enjoyed Chella Man's take on Joey/Jericho Wilson! But Gar Logan is the mvp of all seasons

Honourable mention: Esai Morales's Deathstroke. He was unforgettable. Shakespearean, really!

Least favorite character

Angela Roth, Raven's mother. Why did they make her evil only to kill her off after the reveal? What was the point of that?

The character I’m most like

Bernard, actually 😂😭 I'm the type of person to show up to a situation overprepared with equipment, set to logic my way out of situations 😂 plus I've slowly become one of the older friends in my core friend group(s)

Favorite pairing

It's a toss up between JayRose and JayGar :)

Least favorite pairing

HankDawn, because they make each other more boring

Favorite moment

Idk if I have an absolute favourite one that I loved, but there's a bunch that I thoroughly enjoyed:

S1: The fight scene at the motel that Dick and Kory first hooked up at. The fight choreo was insane.

S2: When Jason first saw Rose kicking ass in CCTV footage and became instantly smitten. Also the Donna & Slade fight at the museum because the lighting + fight choreo was amazing.

S3: Komand'r hitting on Kon, thinking he's there to service her in bed 😂😭. Also I enjoyed the Jonathan Crane scenes and it's a tie between him blowing weed smoke into a freshly-resurrected Jason's face and him wearing Bruce Wayne's suit and using Bruce's razor at the Manor

S4: there aren't any boring scenes in S4! But the part where they fight zombie Slade is the funniest. I also enjoyed the horror aspect of this season, and the talk Conner had with Luthor right before he died had horror + plenty of pathos :)

Rating out of 10

6 stars, because they had some insanely beautiful cinematography at times and compelling character moments, but also really wack decisions like making Donna super mean towards Jason and also killing her off via electric shock??? There are also some boring parts in s1 (namely the Hank and Dawn arc), but the first 3 eps of S3 were amazing. And while many of the storybeats were batshit, all of S4 felt like a comic book feels and it's just an entertaining show.

Send me a series (from this list) and I’ll tell you my thoughts about it :)

[lucio-morgasson-husband]

Can you write Jonathan crane with s/o partner in crime 👉👈?

✨(~￣³￣)~Of course you do, beautiful little creature.✨

imagine : you are the partner in crime of the sadistic Jonathan Crane.

Warnings:Light violence, profanity and a very sadistic Crane .

(applies to any version of the scarecrow)

"Enough! I'm not Jonathan's "Harley Quinn"" You yelled, the fact that they told you like that annoyed you, maybe it was to make you angry on purpose. "I've told you many fucking motherfuckers that I'm not the scarecrow's Harley!"

"Hey calm down... we're playing"You turned towards one of Crane's subordinates, you unleashed a blow to grab him by the neck.

"You say that again and I swear I'll castrate you without anesthesia!!"You yelled at him so furiously that you nearly scared him to death.

"Calm pumpkin, don't castrate him, he doesn't know what he's saying"Jonathan walked slowly, his piercing eyes staring like a hungry animal.You let go of the bully throwing him to the ground, as he approached you he took your hand to kiss his knuckles gently."Well done pumpkin, you are splendid above all being my right hand...Remember everyone, she is not a Harley...she is my partner both in crime...and in life. Now who told you such stupidity?"

"all criminals say them,...especially the joker"He looked at him with a threatening look, hearing the joker's name made him angry, he didn't get along with him, they were just accomplices in some crimes. "sorry doctor ... I didn't want —"

"That does not matter now, listen very carefully to what I am going to tell you... I want you to use yourselves as a hook to capture the bat. I have no complaints"

"Jonathan...sounds risky, think about it more calmly John "You moved your hands making gestures so that he will think about it More clearly, sometimes their actions cost them to end up in Arkham "Let's think about this calmly, okay? "Jonathan sighed and caressed your cheek.

"Oh, what would I do if I didn't have you?"You smiled recharging your cheek in his hand.

You've been Jonathan Crane's partner in crime for months, at first it was difficult because of the hard nature that Jonathan showed towards you, but over time he softened.

You were afraid that one day he would stab you in the back, so you didn't trust him very much, although for you it was impossible from the day you met him. He was almost the same as Dr. Quinzel, a psychiatrist in love with his patient, but this time you were the patient. You were a difficult patient to treat, several tried until they assigned you to someone in particular, Professor Jonathan Crane, that disheveled-looking professor was difficult to contact, Fortunately, the one delighted to deal with you accepted without asking for anything in return, he only I wanted to study your behavior and why.

He started off quite delicately, keeping a strict profile and a soft voice.

"Do you know why you are here? "He said holding a notebook while making notes "The patient has not wanted to say a word in two minutes " He sighed deeply looking at the note and then looking at you "We won't achieve anything if you just stand there quietly, cooperate for me please" His patience is running out, he thought in his mind that a little of his fear toxin would make you force yourself to speak.

"Because of my behavior... doctor... it wasn't me, it wasn't, that person wasn't me... I swear"You started talking frustrating their plans, so they would start their session looking for the root of that problem that they thought would have no answer, they started asking questions that you didn't know why I was asking you but you didn't take it seriously, he was doing his job, right?, that made you get along with him you felt comfortable talking to him I was very curious about Your deepest fears, a phobia of heights? Spiders? Fear of snakes? He started digging deeper into your mind trying to get him to talk.

"You say it wasn't you... What was going through your head? Some fear?"

"No, I don't know, it was just as if... I had passed out, it was all black, then I came back and looked at that mess, I was scared... I was so scared that I did the first thing that came to mind, hide the entire crime scene." You felt so guilty that you burst into tears

"look at me and tell me , who i am ?" You told him between tears, you felt at that moment like a Monster.

"You're someone with a personality disorder, like you're jekyll and hyde, do you understand?"

"Jekyll and who?"You didn't know who your psychiatrist was talking about

" nothing, forget it " He closed his notebook, adjusted his glasses and got up to look at you again. "Our time went by very quickly, it was a pleasure to share this time, I hope we get good results in the next session "

"It's okay doctor" The sessions were improving little by little, a strange affection was formed on the part of the two

One day it just disappeared, you didn't know anything, nobody wanted to tell you anything about your psychiatrist.

"Excuse me, do you know what happened to Dr. Jonathan Crane?"

"That man is no longer what he was, he has become a criminal... today the bat brought him to Arkham, he is in the cells of high-danger criminals ,Now that you know, eat" He held out a tray of food to put it aside to go.

"How could that happen? oh no poor Jonathan" You still didn't understand what had happened, you felt bad for him.

I will continue (I thought of two parts so that it won't be too long, I love your request and I have a lot to write, thank you pretty person 💙✨

[danioak7]

A Perfect Day

Heyo! This is Dani here! Finally posting one of my insert reader fanfics on here, and what could be a better way than to start with the first of 4 parts in my Jonathan Crane series! I’ll hopefully post up another random fanfic later on, but here’s part 1 of my A Perfect Life series. Hope you guys enjoy❤️

~~~

“Johnny, c’mon! I’m sure your dad won’t mind.”

“I-I’m not sure, Y/N...”

She stopped running. She then turned to face him and grabbed his hands. She looked almost nervous. Her small problem was that she did this without thinking too much, and she never considered if Jonathan would be okay with this. She looked up into his eyes, and he could see her e/c eyes as clear as day. They were mesmerizing.

“Hey. If he gets you in trouble, I’ll be there to take the blame.”

“I-I don’t want you to do that. That doesn’t seem right.”

“I don’t care if it’s right; I’m not letting you be at fault for this. But if you don’t want to go...”

“N-No! No, I-I want to go. I really do, Y/N. Let’s just go.” If he was being honest, he really just wanted to spend more time with her. With her holding his hands, he felt safe. He wanted to be in a relationship with her so bad, but with his dad’s research picking up, he knew he couldn’t dare be with her. His father was already so hesitant about him going to school, so what would happen if he got a girlfriend?! But at this moment, he just wanted to be with Y/N. So that’s what he did; he stuck with Y/N.

“Really? O-Okay! Yeah! C’mon, it’s this way!” Y/N still held onto one of his hands as the pair raced from the front of the school towards the small town closest to the school. It wasn’t quite considered as being “in Gotham”, but it was a peaceful little town with a low crime rate, considering how heavy the crime was in the large neighbouring city. For a good bit, the teens were running. But Y/N eventually slowed down, because neither teen could successfully run very far. The entire time, Jonathan held her hand tightly. He was afraid that if he let go, then he’d lose her forever. They strolled through the small town just outside of Gotham, just enjoying each other’s company. She led him towards a pier, where there was a safety railing so people didn’t fall into the water. What she did next left Jonathan in awe...

She let go of his hand and ran up to the railing. She stood there holding onto it, and looking at the water and the sky with so much hope in her eyes. The wind blew lightly, and it softly lifted her h/l, h/c hair. Her skirt was blowing behind her in the wind, and her body language showed that she was at peace. The water in front of her was a deep, sparkling blue. The sky was filled with cotton candy shaped clouds, and was coloured a pale blue like the shirt he wore that day.

The breeze became a bit cold for her, so she shivered slightly. In an instant, Jonathan calmly took off his hoodie, walked towards her, and wrapped it around her. She was so grateful for the gesture. She even wrapped an arm around him, as she hoped he would stay beside her. He did indeed.

The pair started towards the open water ahead of them. It was such a calm time in both of their lives; it felt so weird, but in a good way. But the gears in Jonathan’s head were turning rapidly, just trying to figure out how to tell the sweet angelic girl beside him how he truly felt. To hell with what his dad thought; he wanted to be with her. And if that was the last thing that he would do, he’d be glad he did. Y/N on the other hand was in pure bliss. The boy she had fallen for all those years ago was in such close proximity to her, to the point where she could almost hear his heartbeat. She decided to lay her head on his shoulder, which startled the nervous boy.

“I’m sorry, Johnny! I didn’t mean to do anything wrong.”

“N-No! You’re good. Um, if you want to, you can put your head back there. I really liked it...”

“Oh, okay. I really liked it too.”

Once her head landed back on his shoulder, Jonathan pulled her slightly closer to him. His confidence had disappeared in an instant. But Y/N needed to say one more thing before they fell back to their comfortable silence:

“I’m so glad you’re here with me, Jonathan. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“M-Me too, Y/N. I think I’d be pretty lost.”

“You’d still be in the corner, alone at lunch,” the smaller one replied with a chuckle.

“That I would be. That I would be...” and with that, the pair fell back to their peaceful silence. But Jonathan’s head was still trying to figure out how on Earth he was gonna tell her that he felt all these feelings for her.

Bit by bit, his confidence came back. After a while, he did something that even took him by surprise: he lightly kissed Y/N’s forehead and muttered that he loves her. As soon as he did, his face turned an even darker shade of red (if it even could). Where did this come from?! He wasn’t even thinking straight. He started to panic, and wished he hadn’t said that out loud nor done anything at all. During his panic, the small girl looked up at him with large doe eyes.

“I-I’m sorry, Y/N. I-I don’t k-know what-“

“Shut up.”

“I- what?” That got his attention for sure.

“Shut up! You’re so nervous! Don’t be,” she lightly grabbed his chin so that he would look at her, and looked deep into his eyes. Her smile was huge, “because I love you too.”

His mind went blank. Absolutely blank. She loved him?! Oh god, his heart was soaring. He was on cloud 9. All his setbacks in this whole endeavour today had been because he was so nervous and stuck in his head. But all the things that led to something good were when he just shut off his mind, and followed his heart. So that’s what he did.

The lovestruck boy pulled the equally lovestruck girl closer to him, and repeatedly planted sweet kisses to her forehead. The pair were a smiling, blushing mess. But they didn’t care; they had each other. After the many kisses to her forehead, Jonathan mustered up the courage to plant a gentle kiss onto the beautiful girl’s lips. It was sweet and simple, that left the two of them wanting a little bit more. When the two teens pulled away, they instantly wrapped each other in a tight hug.

For Jonathan, he finally found someone to love him and not have the urge to use him for studying purposes. But for Y/N, she now had someone to call her own. She had always wanted someone who loves her unconditionally, and now she finally has that person: her best friend and now boyfriend, Jonathan Crane. And as they watched the cotton candy clouds shift and the sparkling water ripple, their souls intertwined. That single thing caused a symphony of endless love and adoration that rang through the air around them. No matter what would happen in the future, they’d face it together.

But that was all just a pleasant memory now. Now Jonathan sat in a cell in Arkham Asylum, with his back pressed against the wall and a photo in hand. He managed to sneak the photo in, and hide it any time someone came nearby. It was a photo that Y/N had taken that day: she held the camera in a selfie-like fashion, and it showed her with a giant smile. Jonathan was behind her, with his arms wrapped around her waist and his head on her shoulder. He looked so lovestruck in the photo. He still was to this day. The poor boy still twitched with fear as he sat, but that photo- no, the sight of Y/N kept him calm.

She never visited. It was as though he didn’t exist anymore. He would never know if she just didn’t want to come, or if there was something blocking her path. But as long as he had the photo in his hand, he believed he’d be alright. Maybe not today, but maybe tomorrow. Or the next day, even.

“If I could just take us back to those days. If I had one wish, then I could just do that. You used to brighten every empty space, and the words ‘I love you’ replaced any doubt I had. Maybe time wouldn’t try to erase you from my mind. If you could only know that I’d never let you go, Y/N.”

The guard heard Jonathan’s ramblings, and went to check on him. The scared boy saw the infamous scarecrow figure instead, looming over top of him. As soon as the guard got close, he saw the photo. He grabbed it out of Jonathan’s hand, and marched back outside. In Jonathan’s eyes, he saw the scarecrow figure that he hated wrenching his hand open. Then he finally saw the guard, who proceeded to take the photo from the helpless boy. And with that, all his hope disappeared, and he was left completely alone.

“A-And the words ‘I promise, I’ll be back. I’m not leaving you’ r-ring through my head. I-I m-miss y-you Y/N…”

The broken shell of a hopeless boy was all that was left in that cell. And from that point on, there were few words he actually said. All that came from him now were screams.

[bittenwritten]

Idle Gossip

[Harley Quinn 2019] Scarecrow x [Villain] reader

*reader is gender neutral* [Reposted from my Wattpad account]

It all started with your invitation to the Penguin’s nephew’s Bar Mitzvah coming through the mail slot. Normally, you’d prefer to keep to yourself and not attend any social gatherings. However, on this occasion you’d had a rough week and a fancy get-together seemed to be just what the doctor ordered, and so you decided to bite the bullet and attend. Unfortunately, what you seemed to completely forget, until the day of the Bar Mitzvah, is that you'd actually have to talk to people. Great.

You decided that cancelling now would just be more hassle than it was worth, and so that is how you ended up sitting round a small table with a few of your fellow Legion of Doom members discussing the recent drama that was the JoQuinn break-up. Other than the Joker blowing up the host of Good Morning Gotham, this was the first time you were hearing about the whole drama, so it was all news to you. Well, I say ‘conversation’, it was more so just Scarecrow gossiping at the group about the whole hullabaloo while everyone else was becoming tired of the non-stop gossip coming out of Jonathan’s mouth. Well, everyone but you. You couldn’t for the life of you explain, but you just seemed to hang onto every single word that came out of his mouth as he rambled on.

 You weren't even really listening to what was being said anymore, you were just so transfixed by the way he spoke, there was some kind of devilish charm to it that made you feel weak in the knees.

 You’d only recently realized your feelings for the twig of a man on a collaborative heist, where you had to suddenly drag him out of Batman's sight and ended up pinning him up against the wall. Neither of you even said anything, you just stared at each other for an uncomfortably long time until Batman walked in and caught the two of you like that. It had to be the most embarrassing point in your career, but there was something about that flustered look on his face that made your heart skip a beat.

Back in the present, Twoface looked like he was about to lose his patience before the door to the atrium swung open. Two figures stood in the doorway, the more extravagant of the two had a massive tiger on a lead in one hand and a bottle of champagne in the other. You didn’t even recognise her for a split-second but her pale-white skin was an immediate give away to her identity, it was the Joker’s ex, Harley Quinn. Behind her stood the more intimidating figure of Poison Ivy, she seemed to be more disinterested with the whole thing. Harley took a swing from the bottle and threw it over her shoulder, only to stop dead in her tracks as she looked around in horror, you could only assume she mis-read her invite in regards to what type of party this was. Glancing over to your fellow villains, they seemed to be just as confused as you were.

“Well, this is an interesting development” Scarecrow commented, resting his head in his hand as he leaned forward. “You know...” he started “i bet there’s something going on between those two” he used his free-hand to gesture towards the two.

“Y’know what, I’m starving.” TwoFace quickly stood up “Bane, buddy, how's about you and I go check out the buffet?” 

“Sure, sounds good.” Bane said in his usual upbeat tone.

“Yeah, good idea.” Scarecrow added as he began to stand out of his seat.

“Nah, nah, nah.” TowFace cut him off. “Y’know two’s company but three's a crowd-” he clearly just wanted an excuse to get away from the non-stop gossip that was giving him a head-ache.

“You two just stay put, we’ll be back in a sec” and with that he bee-lined towards the buffet table with Bane following closely behind. Scarecrow slowly sat back down and stared in confusion at the two before turning his attention to you.

“Wonder what got into them” he laughed awkwardly.

“Yeah, I wonder.” you agreed and took a quick sip from your drink.

His expression turned to a more deadpan one. “Well I mean you could at least try to be a bit more subtle with it.” he scoffed.

“Sweetheart, if I was to be subtle about anything, you wouldn’t pick up on a single thing I was implying” you shot back, leaning towards him and taking another swig from your drink.

“Oh, like your obvious attraction to me.” he joked and raised an eyebrow as you spat out your drink in surprise.

“S’cuse me?!” you managed to sputter out once you recovered from your coughing fit.

“Oh give me a break.” he rolled his eyes. “I know I can be a bit oblivious at times but not to this extent.” he said as a smirk formed at the edges of his mouth.

“What are you talking about?” you laughed nervously, trying to relieve some of the sudden tension that had been created. He looked at you like you’d just asked him who Batman was before answering. 

“I mean, you avoiding me recently, your longing stares.” he put a hand on his head in overly dramatic fashion, which admittedly got a slight laugh from you.

“I mean for fucks sake, just now you were making eyes at me throughout the conversation about the break-up.” he added. Your body stiffens and heats up as he finishes his sentence. God, were you that obvious? 

At this point, your face was as red as a tomato and you were stumbling over your words as you failed to come up with a rebuttal. Luckily you were saved from this hell when Bane and TwoFace returned to the table, stopping him from continuing his accusation. You sighed in relief and looked back over to him, he still had that smug smirk on his face that always made your heart flutter. 

“How's the food over there?” you asked.

“Eh, nothing worth spoiling your dinner for.” TwoFace shrugged, sitting back into his seat.

“Uh-oh, who are these trouble-makers?” Harley walked up to the table.

“Nah, I'm just kidding- I know it’s you [name], Scarecrow, TwoFace, other side of TwoFace, Bane-!” you all laughed at her imitation. “I'm gonna’ blow up this Bar Mitzvah” Bane grumbled.

“Quinn, Great ta’ see ya’! Where've ya’ been hiding?” TwoFace asked.

“On your left side where you can’t see shit!”

You all burst into laughter again but this time you couldn’t help but steal another look at Scarecrow. You loved the way he looked when he laughed, from the way his eyes lit up to his dorky smile, you just couldn't get enough of it but you quickly looked away before he could catch your staring.

“So guess who came up with a plan to kill Batman, uh, ya girl-” but before she could continue a looming shape appeared behind her.

“Look who’s trying to run before she can walk”. Well, as if your night couldn’t get any worse, the Joker was here to completely derail it. Great.

The others laughed and you plastered on a fake smile.

“Mazel Tov!” Bane greeted him.

“Jesus”

“Glad you're here, J-man. Pull up a chair, doesn’t bother me-” Harley pulled out the menu.

“So who’s going beef and who’s going chicken?”

“You are going somewhere else-” Joker demanded.

“-because this is the Legion of Doom table! Why don’t you find the crazy bitch table?”

“Spoiler: it’s not a real table” Bane chipped in.

“That was implied-”

“Oh” Bane frowned.

“Who wants to ditch this jester and tear up Gotham with me?!” Harley yelled, which was only met with manic laughter from the Joker.

“Laugh, laugh with me” Joker ordered. You did your best to sound genuine as you forced a laugh, like the others, but you weren't too sure how convincing you sounded.

“Uhh, you know what, who needs ya’ this table is too far away from the dancefloor anyway!” Harley stomped off.

Joker pulled up a seat and sat down.

“Sorry about that folks, women am i right?” None of you really felt comfortable with that last comment.

“Joker, nice to see ya’, didn’t think you’d make it” TwoFace said, greeting him.

“Well, of course, how could i miss such a big event” he grinned, to you it seemed a bit disingenuous but you let it slide.

“Now, what did I miss?”

“Scarecrow was just telling us how Harley dumped ya’.” TwoFace explained.

“Oh really?”

The smug grin on the Joker’s face dropped as he shot a glare at Scarecrow, who was currently sweating bullets.

“Oh I'm sure you're definitely in a position to talk, Crane, seeing as your single ass can’t even get a date, let alone dump one. And for the record, I dumped her.” you could feel the condescending nature of his tone as he spoke. Jonathan looked down at his drink as Joker continued to talk down to him.

You desperately wanted to say something but were snapped out of your thoughts by a loud voice screaming “assholes-”, you all quickly turned to see where the voice came from, only to find it was Harley bitching about you all to Ivy. Joker shot her a smug grin before turning back to the group. He opened his mouth to speak again only to be cut off.

“But they don’t know shit-” Harley screamed again, shaking their table as she slammed her fists onto it. Luckily, this seemed to distract Joker from his rant long enough for him to forget.

“Now, where was I?” 

Thinking quickly you came up with an answer.

“You were talking about dumping Harley.”

“Ah, yes. Can you believe that, the bitch even blew up my hideout out of spite-” he started going on and on about how he was totally the one who ended it. You looked over to Scarecrow as he sighed a breath of relief and mouthed ‘thank you’. You smiled and nodded at him before facing back to the pasty-white madman in front of you. 

By the time Joker had finished his rant, the food had arrived. It was pretty good, but you and Scarecrow were both too busy stealing looks at each other while the other wasn’t looking to enjoy it. 

“Uuh, my chicken’s rubbery.” Joker grumbled.

 “Ooh, your beef looks good” he said as he slid Bane’s plate over to himself.

“Uh, fine” Bane sighed as he reached for the plate of chicken, wanting at least something to eat.

“Ah-“  Joker swatted his hand away. 

“I might finish that.”

“Well, then, what are we doing?-” Bane protested, but was cut off by a voice over the speakers.

“Hey, everybody, let’s give it up for Joshua’s Bar Mitzvah. Huh?” Penguin stood on stage next to his nephew, Joshua.

“It was very special, for me it was when I realized it was my dream to become a crime lord” he wiped a tear from his eye before continuing. 

“So today, I force that dream onto you.” The crowd cheered as he placed a top-hat, that was identical to his, onto Joshua’s head.

You look out of the corner of your eye and catch Scarecrow staring directly at you. Though he was wearing his mask, you could tell he was blushing by the way his eyes darted away from you as he straightened himself the moment your eyes met, only daring to look back at you to see if you were still staring back at him. You flashed him a cheeky grin as you playfully winked at him, you could swear that you saw his heart completely stop beating inside his chest as you did. 

“Okay, Joshua, get ready for your first caper! Good luck fighting off the guards, also known as Gotham Chuckle Hut’s finest improvisers, and stealing that cash-ola, otherwise known as ‘Joshua Bucks’!” The curtains began to open.

“Go Joshua- Oh my God-”

The curtains opened fully to reveal what seemed to be a massacre. The improv troupe lay in pools of their own blood, you could even see the bone fully stick out of one man’s leg for crying out loud! The culprit stood in the doorway of the vault, after somehow getting it open, and was holding some of the ‘Joshua Bucks’. Judging by your table’s reaction, you could tell who it was. Your suspicions were confirmed when the perp spoke up.

“Hey, Joshy, Mazel Tov!” Yeah, it was Harley. You could get a better view of her as she walked closer and picked up one of the men so it looked like he was standing.

There was an audible gasp from the crowd as she dropped him again, further exposing his bones. In contrast, Joker started laughing maniacally and nugded Bane.

“This is fantastic! You’re probably not laughing because this is sort of how you screw up.”

“You ruined the Bar Mitzvah!” Penguin stated as he walked forward as the crowd booed.

“-and crippled an improv troupe!”

“Meh- oh well”

Bane, TwoFace and Bane quickly stood up, but you and Scarecrow were only now snapping fully back into reality.

“If you two could quit your eye-fucking session and hurry up, it would be greatly appreciated-” Joker snapped at you both as he and the others made their way to the vault room, before you could say anything to defend yourselves. You both looked at each other for a split-second but you quickly pushed down your feelings of embarrassment and speeded after them with Jonathan hot on your heels.

“-and that's our show, folks!” Harley announced and took a bow before darting towards the exit.

“I've got this.” Penguin said, cocking his umbrella gun and taking aim.

There was a loud ‘thud’ as Harley fell to the floor as the tranquilizer dart took effect. You all gathered round to see what was happening.

“Say ‘goodnight, Puddin’.” Joker spoke with a smug grin on his face.

“You think… this is gonna’... stop...me?” her words became more slurred as she slipped into unconsciousness. Joker only laughed at ths threat.

“Hah- She even sounds like you!” he laughed as he turned to Bane.

“Oh- I don't think… Do I sound like… You never hear your own voice I guess.” Bane sputtered out, as two of Penguin’s henchmen picked up Harley’s limp body. You all walked out of the vault room and joined the crowd as the music started playing again.

“I’m assuming this is all you’ll be gossiping about for the next year.” you spoke in a hushed tone as you nudged Scarecrow’s arm. He simply rolled his eyes at you, but did nothing to cover up the dorky grin on his face as he did so. 

“Perhaps.” he said, pausing before he continued.

“When I do, would you like me to leave in the part where I repeatedly caught you staring affectionately at me or no?”

“Oh really, ‘cause I could've sworn that I caught you only a couple of minutes ago doing the exact same thing.” you scoffed, leaning towards him.

 You see a hint of momentary panic in his eyes as he tries to conjure up an excuse and push down the feeling of… warmth?- he got in his stomach as he remembered the part where you winked at him, he couldn’t explain it but it felt familiar. Then it hit him like a brick, he knew exactly where he’d felt this before. He’d felt the same weird, warm, fuzzy, confusing feeling when you had him pinned against that old factory wall and were staring into his eyes. He’d rather die than admit it, but you looming above him, the way your chest rose and fell as you panted, the fact that your mouths were so close that if he so much as tilted his head upward your lips would be touching, might have just awoken something in him.

He shook himself out of his thoughts and saw you still waiting for his answer.

“Guilty as charged.” he shrugged and laughed nervously.

Before you could continue, you both noticed four men carrying Harley, who was tied to a chair and just regaining consciousness now.

“Cut the song- No Horah for Harley” Penguin ordered as the men placed the chair down a couple of feet away from him.

“Hey, it's gonna’ take more than a souped-up parasol to keep me from kicking your ass you fat, flightless bird.” Harley snapped.

“The mouth on her!” Penguin turned to Joshua.

“What better way to become a man than by-”

“-Ohh! Than by touching your umbrella? Whoo!” Joshua snatched the umbrella from his hands. 

“Yes! I’ve been waiting for this!” he stated as he pointed it towards Harley

“Any last words before I kill your dumb, blonde, stupid, smelly-”

“-That’s too many adjectives,” Scarecrow whispered. You nodded in agreement.

“-Idiot ass!” Joshua finished.

“Hey, Joshua, make sure you aim it directly at my head ‘cause you don’t want to miss in front of your friends and family-”

“I won’t miss” Joshua stated as his hand began to shake.

“I don’t know.. That trembly finger’s telling a different story-” she taunted.

“I-it’s not trembly, it’s just- I’ve never shot an umbrella before-”

“I bet there’s a lot of things you’ve never done, like: drunk a beer-”

“-I drunk a beer, like all the time. I always drunk beers” his voice became as shaky as his hand as he looked around the room.

“I bet you still believe in Santy Clause.”

“I-i don’t! I’m Jewish and tonight I’m a man!”

“Oh, that’s right, i forgot that I’m talkin’ to a newly grown man- I mean you’ve already finger-banged somebody.” There was a loud gasp from the audience. Well, this got uncomfortable real quick.

“Wait, what?!”

“I mean you have, haven’t you, you didn’t lie about such an important milestone, right?”

“Y-yeah it happened!”

“Are you sure?” Joshua’s body was fully trembling at this point as he looked over to his uncle, who glared back at him, waiting for him to take the shot.

“I-I don’t… I don’t know… it was dark” he stammered .

“It was at camp, at night… it was me and her and it was dark. I definitely did something” 

“Oh, Joshy, do you really think you're ready to kill someone if you’ve never even finger-blasted a girl?”

“You’re right- I’m not ready” he started to sob as he ran into his mother's arms.

“I told you we should’ve gotten him the dollhouse like he asked, Oswald-” she hissed

“It’s not a dollhouse! It’s an army base with sound  effects of real screams, and it’s the only thing I wanted!” his voice broke half way through his sentence.

“Your dead, Quinn” Penguin spat as he aimed his umbrella at her, but then the sound of glass breaking filled the room and a man fell face-first from the ceiling, followed by Poison Ivy lowering herself down from the newly made hole with a vine. Harley greeted her before doing a front flip onto her back which broke the chair, and something else , you assumed by the way she reacted.

“Uuh, i thought that was gonna be way cooler-” she hissed as the Joker walked up to her.

“Harley, you're not a solo-act, you're a sidekick, an afterthought. No one is ever going to take you seriously. Admit you’re nothing without me and you walk away alive. Or you can die!”

“Welp, easy choice.” the weird green man got up from the floor.

“uh , lovely Bar Mitzvah. Mazel, mazel.” he began to walk away.

“Are you leaving?” Ivy asked him.

“Uh, no-”

“I ain’t admitting shit!” Harley hissed as she picked herself up. Joker only sighed.

“Boys?” he called on the four of you, you all grinned and raced to grab your weapons from the table.

“I’ve got TwoFace.” Harley stated.

“I’ve got [name] and Scarecrow.” Ivy confirmed.

“I have-oh wow- oh God- wow.” Kite-Man stared up to see Bane towering over him, who got even bigger when he started pumping venom into himself.

“You- you’re looming! Um, alright, I’ll take, um… if you don’t mind if you could scootch just a little.” he asked, looking past Bane.

“Boom, onsite coordinator. Looking kind of brittle there, won’t see it-” Bane swatted him to the other side of the room before he could finish.

TwoFace opened fire on the two, but Ivy used her vines as a shield for herself and Harley. Within seconds, Harley was flung over the top of the shield and landed behind you and Scarecrow. You both turn around just in time to dodge the first few swings of her bat but as Scarecrow stepped back Harley kicked his gun right out of his hand and yelled for Ivy to pass her TwoFace’s gun. You spun round to see if Jonathan was alright, only to be met with a bat to the back of the head as Harley snuck up behind you, which caused you to fall forwards. You braced yourself for the feeling of your head hitting the hard tiles but were caught on your way down. You looked up to see Scarecrow grabbing you by the arm, you pushed against him and were able to get back on your feet and tossed him his gun. You glanced behind him to see Harley aiming TwoFace’s gun at his back but fired before you could get out a warning. As the bullets punctured the canisters on his back, the force of the fear toxin rushing out sent him flying. You covered your mouth and ran away to avoid the fear toxin that was already causing people to hallucinate, grabbing your gun as you did. Thankfully, Scarecrow landed a couple of feet from where you were and you rushed over to him. You offered him your hand and quickly pulled him up.

Behind you, Harley continued firing from the stolen gun before Penguin was able to shoot it, causing it to explode in Harley’s hand. As she stepped back in shock, she bumped into TwoFace who pulled out two dual handguns. She began to back away to Ivy as you, Scarecrow and Penguin walked up to join TwoFace, weapons drawn.

“Let’s get out of here!” Ivy yelled. Harley looked behind you all only to see Joker filming the whole thing.

“No, let’s fight! Maybe Kite-Man can help!” They glanced over to where Kite-Man was and witnessed as Bane repeatedly punched him in the head while he had him in a choke-hold.

“Bane, quit dicking around with Kite-Man and get those two.”  Joker snapped.

“But he was attacking me-”

“With what, a kite? Just do as I tell you, you dumb, freakish monster!”

“Bane, why are you letting him talk to you like that?” Harley asked.

“In fact, why do any of you let him talk to you like that?” she began to raise her voice as she looked at the four of you. You all lowered your weapons and looked over to where Joker stood.

“He doesn't even have powers-”  you felt your body stiffen as you shifted your gaze down to the floor. 

“His only power is bullying you into doing what he wants. I should know, he did it to me for years.”

“Don’t listen to her! She’s nothing.” Joker protested.

“She makes a good point, I don’t like how you called me a monster” Bane interrupted him.

“Yeah that was pretty harsh” Scarecrow chipped in and looked to you as you nodded in agreement.

“Oh my God, it’s just an expression-” Joker tried to explain it away before Bane interrupted him.

“Also, let’s talk about dinner-” Bane crossed his arms. “I selected the beef well in advance and you stole it from me, you said you didn’t even want to come to this ‘stupid thing’.”

The crowd gasped.

“My thoughts exactly, this is a monumental night for young Joshua.”

“I’m the Joker, I was joking, okay? Oh my God, I’ll kill her myself.” he said, pulling out his gun and pointing it to Harley’s head, only for Ivy to stand in his way.

“Ivy, if you could just, y’know, just move so I, I can just kill your friend.”

“Absolutely- over my dead body.”

“Uhh- female friendships!” he groaned as he got ready to shoot, but Ivy’s vines suddenly sprouted up behind him and surrounded the three. 

The sudden action caused you to step back and instinctively grab onto Scarecrow’s shoulder, which caused him to freeze momentarily before melting into your touch.

Joker aimed his gun at Ivy’s head but she didn’t move a muscle as her vines closed in on him. High-pitch laughter came from his pocket as his phone rang. He began yelling into the phone about some sort of building issue with his base and ran off, but you weren't really paying attention. You looked down at where your hand was, only to notice a large red stain on his upper-arm, it took you mere seconds to realize that it was blood, his blood even. You assumed he must have knocked into something sharp when he was sent flying a couple of minutes ago. You must have looked fairly shocked, as Jonathan followed your gaze down to the wound and tried to brush your hand away.

“I-I’m fine. -really-” he started, but you only grabbed his arm and noticed a multitude of smaller blood stains all over his right side.

“Jesus, Jon, what did you land on, a pile of cutlery?” you asked, more concerned than anything else.

“Well it might as well have been.” he grumbled, quickly glancing over to the, now, broken table he had landed on.

“Right, well, let’s get you patched up.” you said, lightly tugging on his arm.

“Oh, there’s no need, honestly-” He protested before you cut him off.

“-Jonathan, there is a massive gash on your arm. Now come on, I have a first aid kit at my place.” you began leading him to the main exit.

“A-at your place?” he froze in his tracks.

“Yeah? What’s with the shocked face?” you looked back at him.

“You know I don’t bite, right?” you grinned at him. You said your goodbyes and thanked Mrs. Cobblepot for your invitation before dragging him off despite his insistence that he could just ignore it until the party was over and sort it himself.

“Look, you’ve made it clear that you don’t like it when I help but-”

“That’s not what I meant-”

“Then what did you mean?”

“I… I just didn't want to trouble you, that’s all!” That answer came a little too fast for you to fully believe it but you thought it would be best to drop the subject as it clearly flustered him.

As the two of you walked out into the warm summer night you loosened your grip on his upper-arm and let your hand glide down his arm and wrap around his wrist, not daring to go the full mile and hold his hand, though you could swear you saw a hint of disappointment in his eyes as you did. As the two of you stepped into the parking lot and found your car, Scarecrow cleared his throat.

“[Name]?” he glanced over at you as he got into the passenger's side seat.

“Yeah? What is it?”

“It’s okay if I stay the night, innit’? It’s just that my hideout is on the other side of the city and it’s already really late-”

“Well as long as you don’t mind sleeping on the couch, then sure.” you said as you pulled out of the parking space and onto the main road.

“Cheers, luv.” 

 What followed after that was near miss with an oncoming truck and your face becoming a bright red colour as your brain temporarily short-circuited. You looked over to make sure Jonathan was alright, only to see him gripping onto the seat like his life depended on it. 

“Jesus- if you don’t like me calling you that then you can just say so- Bloody hell!” 

“It’s not that, it’s just-” Your brain was working at 100 mph trying to talk your way out of this because: God- did you love the way he called you that. Unfortunately for you, he quickly caught on and was going to give you hell.

“Oh so you like me calling you ‘luv’, then?” The corners of his mouth curled up into a smirk as he noticed the massive blush on your face. 

“Wh- no- that’s not what I meant!”

“Sure thing, luv.” His smirk had turned into an ear-to-ear grin as he saw your face turn an even darker shade of red. This just elicited a loud, frustrated groan from you.

“I swear to God- do you want me to crash this car!” you snapped at him, smacking your hand off the steering wheel, which was only met with laughter as you yelled a string of expletives.

“You wouldn’t do that.” he stated, still giggling to himself.

“What makes you so sure of that?” You scoffed but you couldn’t deny the way your heart sped up when you saw the dorkiest grin on his face.

“You care about me.” He teased, resting his head on the back of his hands.

“Shut up.” You lightly punch his shoulder.

 You tried to cover up the growing smile on your face with your free hand but failed as Jonathan noticed and pulled your hand down from your face, unintentionally encasing your hand in his. It took you both a while to realize it but once you did his hands immediately shot back to his sides and didn’t look at you for the rest of the car journey instead opting to twiddling his thumbs.

“We’re here.” you called, snapping him out of his daze.

You stepped out of your car and into the apartment block. Seeing as you were both still in costume, you darted for the elevator and hit the button. As the elevator began its ascension you  took this opportunity to take a breather, knowing you would have to leg it to your apartment at the very end of the hallway lest someone see you and call the police. You sighed and leaned against the railing while looking at your reflection in the mirror but you couldn’t help noticing the way Scarecrow straightened the noose around his neck as if it was a tie. For fucks sake, if this keeps up you might just lose it. He met your gaze in the mirror and grinned at you.

“I mean, if you want to watch you can just look at me, it’s less creepy.” he chuckled but suddenly stopped as he winced in pain and grabbed his arm. You straightened yourself and rushed to his side. Luckily, you’d reached your floor and as the doors opened you grabbed Jonathan by the wrist and led to your apartment. You quickly looked around before inserting your key into the door, as you fumbled with the key, Jonathan remained eerily quiet compared to his usual gossipy self. You finally got the door to open and the two of you walked into the empty apartment. You felt about for the lightswitch and eventually found it.

“You go sit down, I’m just going to get the first aid from the bathroom.” you gesture towards the couch and walk off. You rummaged around for a bit, eventually finding it at the very back of the cupboard, you checked it’s contents to make sure you had the right stuff. You made your way into the living room and found Jonathan holding a book you’d left out on the coffee table earlier. He looked up at you and then the first aid kit in your hands.

“Right.” you started, taking out a few bandages. “Show me your arm.” After a few minutes of struggling he managed to roll up his sleeve and outstretched it to you. You gently took his hand and sat down next to him. You, deciding that it was probably best to treat the biggest cut first, took out an antiseptic wipe and lightly dabbed the wound Jonathan winced at this but a soft smile from you seemed to help.

“[name]?” He took a deep breath.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for looking out for me. I know I can be… difficult at times -but I really appreciate you dragging me here instead of leaving me to bleed out at the party.” he laughed nervously and averted his gaze from you.

“You're probably one of the closest friends I’ve ever had.” his voice cracked slightly.

You slightly cringed at the word ‘friends’, well, I suppose you better get comfy in the friend-zone. He swallowed and returned his arm to his side before continuing.

“A-and I’d like to be more than that-” he sputtered, beginning to fiddle with the ends of his noose. 

“You… would?” you looked up at him, your heart feeling like it would burst out of your chest if it beated any faster than it already was.

“Yes.” he grabbed your hands and put them between his.

“I like you- a lot! I like your eyes, your face, the way you always know how to make me laugh” he snapped out of his daze.

“-But, I mean if you don’t feel the same way I completely understand, actually on second thought this was a horrible idea and you probably don’t so I’ll just leave and save you the trouble of kicking me out, like you should-” you could hardly keep up with the word vomit coming out of his mouth as he shot out of his seat.

“I’m sorry, I’ve probably wasted your time ‘cause you probably only see me as a friend and I’ve most likely just ruined our friendship so I’ll just leave and I swear you’ll never have to see me again so-” he made a break for the door but you quickly yanked on his wrist which almost caused him to fall backwards.

 He caught himself just in time but was beginning to wish he’d just fallen to the floor instead as he realized he was using you to support himself and had wrapped his arms around your neck. He tried to push himself away, only for you to snake your arms behind his waist and trap him there. You could practically feel the warm air of his breath on you skin as he panted, you could feel yourself melting into his arms and did not stop him as he squeezed you tight. After a few moments, you managed to sit him back onto the couch.

“I want to be more than friends too.” you spoke softly, not missing the ear-to-ear grin on Jonathan’s face.

You leaned onto him, your head resting on his shoulder, he froze up for a split-second before wrapping one arm around your waist and pulling you closer.

“So, how far off was I?”

“Hmm?” you looked up at him.

“Remember earlier? When I said I saw you giving me looks?”

You gave an exasperated sigh and smirked.

“Was it Bane or TwoFace who had to point it out to you?”

“Both.” he answered with a slight laugh.

“But you’re not denying it!” 

“Why would I, you were doing the exact same thing?” you scoffed, giving him a light punch on the arm.

“Oww- okay, okay, fair point.” he laughed as he pulled you back close to him, brushing a strand of hair out of your eyes and behind your ear.

“Y’know, if you were anyone else I would’ve killed you” you only half-joked, tracing shapes with your fingers onto his chest.

“I know” he laughed, placing a hand under your chin and lightly lifting it so you two were making eye-contact.

“-And that's what I lo-” he cut himself off. “I mean, like about you” he smiled sheepishly.

You only smiled before cupping his face and pulling him closer.

“I love you too, you fucking dork” you chuckled before leaning in and kissing him.

He practically jumped out his skin when you did, but as the realization sunk in he wrapped both arms around you and kissed back, eyes fluttering shut. His lips pressed softly against yours, as one of his hands travelled up your back and cupped the back of your head. The kiss itself was very soft and didn’t last too long, maybe only a couple of seconds, but to you it felt like an eternity. Your lips finally parted when you both were in desperate need for air, but that dazed look on his face made you want to do it all over again.

“You have no idea how long I've been wanting to do that.” you smiled up at him.

“Same here” he added, before quickly pulling you back in for another kiss.

[why-this-kolaveri-machi]

it wasn’t power i coveted; it was acceptance.

Titans 3.06

y’know, i was just thinking the other day that 1.06/1.07 and 2.06/2.07 were the best episodes of their respective seasons, so i have great hopes going in to this one. fingers crossed!

as always, typing this up as i see the episode.

SPOILERS AHEAD

1. oh! um... that was a Cold Open, all right. *nudges* get it? cold? because it’s snowing? and two people got murdered in cold blood? eh?

... oh, i’ve just started.

1.5. i wonder if “i want to be sipping pina coladas on a beach with you” is the new “i’m just one day away from retiring.” i was so on edge after that--i kept expecting that car to explode. even so, the way they died wasn’t an anticlimax: brutal, and quick. 

1.75. so i’m assuming that’s the titular lady vic! this show better bring up why this doll was important or why these two cops needed to be killed, and not leave it to the ether like jericho’s little mindscape jaunt in 2.08 (i’m still dying to know what that was about???)

2.

i love how deliberately unappealing wayne manor is. 

(sorry for the pic quality. i don’t have hbo max! ssshhh.)

2.3. i love the many references to “home” and “our house” when they’ve been here for less than a week and saw one of their friends get blown into pieces. i mean, i unironically love it: home is where family is, after all!

2.5. i’d like to say that kom is playing some sort of long game here, especially given the build-up we had last season and some of the more niggling details this season: why did kom choose now to use her bond to lure kory when she’s been on earth for months? why did justin call kory now, just around the time that she started getting kom’s visions? and what about kom’s ability to exactly imitate other people? hmmm.

2.75. the reason i wrote i’d like to say is that i’ve made the mistake of assuming plot complexity where there is none; i was so invested in the jason todd orchestrated his own death theory for instance, when it turns out that oops! ra’s al ghul just happened to leave a little lazarus puddle in gotham, and oh yeah! scarecrow just happens to have a network of henchmen working for him on the outside and a fully functional laboratory and a weapons cache fit for a new supervillain in the basement of the high security psychiatric unit/prison that he’s in! 

(no i’m not bitter, why do you ask)

2.8. iiiii don’t know what to say about the implications of sex slavery being a thing on tamaran, so i’m not going to say anything at all. for now.

3. gotham, six years ago... wasn’t it five years before s2 that jericho died and the titans disbanded? and when was the flashback from 1.06 where dick let zucco die? i think it was after the events of 2.08: jericho? i can’t seem to find any transcripts or reliable information online, so i’m going to have to rewatch 1.06 at some point. 

(i love the old-fashioned batman music in this heist scene)

3.5. “security is a joke... it’s my way of keeping my dad on his toes”. what you’re an ethical thief now, like an ethical hacker? i don’t think that excuse is going to sell, barbara, on the day you do encounter a decent security system and your father is forced to arrest you.

(then again, gotham’s security is piss-poor. did you know that you could just walk into arkham asylum without any official clearance, ply one of its most dangerous inhabitants with contraband, and said inmate could get away with having an entire laboratory and weapons cache--NO I’M NOT GOING TO LET THIS GO)

3.8 so that flashback between dick and barbara was really cute! and also illuminating:

a) dick sounds so light, so... um. look. i have some apologies to tender to mr thwaites, because while i’ve always thought he does a fine job as dick grayson, i’ve never been terribly fond of his cadence as he delivers dialogue. it’s often monotonous, i thought, but then again, he’s usually delivering exposition or dealing with one soul-crushing crisis or the other. so i was pleasantly surprised to hear dick sound so carefree and alive in his conversation with barbara, laughing frequently, his emotions so bare and bubbling to the surface. it’s really a fantastic contrast to the traumatised and world-weary dick grayson that we see now, even more so than the costume department just bunging a backwards-baseball cap on mr thwaites’ head and hoping that will convince us of his relative youth. 

b) and god, when he wakes up from that memory, all alone in his bed, bleeding from bullet holes in his shoulder (bullet holes that are--in a somewhat convoluted way--barbara’s fault)? yikes. it’s great. you have my apologies, mr thwaites!

c) can you imagine dick just... crawling back to wayne manor, trying not to be seen by anybody, shedding his suit and just... collapsing onto his bed without even tending to his wound? the sheer emotional and physical exhaustion of it? 

d) it’s so interesting to see how barbara and dick approach the idea of legacy--a big theme on the show!--in this flashback. barbara is the one bucking the idea that she should follow in her father’s footsteps, while dick seems pretty content with the batman-and-robin setup, and even tries to get barbara to join their team (robin-girl. pfffft). obviously after this several traumatic things happen wherein dick ends up questioning and then resenting his role as robin, his relationship with batman or even returning as a vigilante at all. and barbara... ends up replacing her father as commissioner. it’s tragic, really. 

e) the dynamic between dick and barbara in the flashback reminds me of how it was between dick and donna in 1.08 and even between kory and dick in early s1. it’s like having an older, strong-willed woman by his side means he gives over the steering wheel for a while and lets himself... unspool, a little bit. it’s kinda endearing.

also:

*pinches his cheeks*

3. you know, we talk about dick and Eldest Daughter Syndrome, and that’s definitely valid, but here gar seems to me the embodiment of it, with all the emotional gardening and firefighting that he’s expected to do. he’s kind of the guy expected to keep his shit together and take care of everyone else while they are falling completely to pieces, unable to carve out time to process his own trauma. he’s also picked up dick’s and kory’s tendencies to bottle up their struggles and shun appearing vulnerable, and he’s struggling in the shadow of both dick and kory undergoing acute crises, his best friend (and frequent confidante) on the other side of the world, and seeing hank die, utterly helpless to stop it. 

i’m glad that he got a chance to tell dick even a smidgeon of what he really feels, and i hope this is at least a semblance of a wake up call for dick to actually sit down and work with the people he repeatedly calls family.

3.5. it’s heartening to see that dick immediately makes it his priority to go talk to gar. but don’t blow off kory in the process, man!

4. i’m really loving this dynamic between kom and conner--i get the idea that both of them consider each other as Unknowns, alien two times over. but conner’s only ever known the titans, who embrace being different, and kom’s only ever known... well. 

anyway, kory is Really Stressed, and honestly? #relatable. 

when you’re forced to bring an estranged family member to hang out with your friends...

4.5. i love that the titans are spending so much time in the kitchen. a real family!

5. jonathan crane is a creep and i absolutely cannot stand him.

5.25. how did he get a whole lab setup (in the basement of a hospital...?) with a bunch of whitecoats to work for him? how did he just waltz into the viewing room of an operation theatre when he’s one of the most wanted men in gotham right now? why is jason wandering around maskless when--presumably--as the adopted son of the most famous person in gotham he’d be a tad more recognisable than your average joe?

why do i expect this show to answer anything anymore?

5.5. that’s not necessarily a criticism, mind; i’ve said since season 1 that titans is very comics-like in this aspect, all about the Aesthetic and the splash-page splendour rather than the niggling unimportant details of how or when the characters got to said location. like. the camera gliding over the operation being set-up, lady vic bursting in and doing her murder dance (imagine the luck of the poor intern who chose this day and this surgery to assist) and jason, shocked and slack-jawed, framed by blood.

5.75. it’s a sobering reminder for jason that, though he chose this path in order to gain control over a world that seemed like it was rapidly spinning out of his grip, he’s only succeeded in handing over even more control to a man with an agenda that is very clearly not aligned with his own. he’s in too far to stop now, though.

5.9. i have a lot more thoughts about jason! saving it up for the end of this recap, though.

6. more kitchen time! i better see dick do some cooking soon...

(”our kitchen”! it still delights me! kitchens are So Important)

6.25. so much of dick’s issues have revolved around his relationship with bruce, so it’s completely understandable that in the wake of a huge crisis where bruce literally asks dick to replace him and be a “better” him, dick would default to all the worst things he learned from the man. and i’m glad kory’s having none of it, but come on, guys. the woman’s literally fetched her fratricidal sister out of a hole in the ground with no idea what said sister is going to do next and experiencing a burgeoning sense of guilt far, far beyond her history with the titans, and dick’s too far into his autocolonoscopy that he can’t see that she needs help.

6.5. “he services your urges”--well, as far as we know, kory is the last person he had sex with...

7. “i hope [gar] isn’t angry with me...” SIR! i thought you’d already spoken to him! smh, as the kids say. kory wouldn’t be needing to reassure you if you just took the effort to build two way emotional relationships with the rest of the team. @superohclair​ was taking about dick’s relatively low emotional intelligence? i agree.

7.5. “i got my own problems [...] you and barbara? fix it.” YOU TELL HIM, KORY

8. man i really like this weird, sad tension between dick and barbara--this sense that both of them are approaching the other based on how they remember them and are ultimately disappointed by the truth. barbara thought she could trust dick to... well, be a better batman, but dick has not only failed at that in her eyes, but repeatedly undermined her while exploiting the authority that she gave him. in dick’s eyes, this is nothing like the barbara that he knew, rebellious and ready to do whatever it takes to find something. 

like. this show sometimes really hits me in the chest about the ways it shows kids grow into adults and into caretakers, and the way it’s stop-start, the ways nothing can happen at all for a long time and then it’s Crisis Central all at once and there’s no space to breathe. the weird sort of sadness that comes with nostalgia. 

8.5. oracle name drop! i agree with barbara, any system that can just randomly tap into gotham phonelines is a monster.

8.7. (i don’t know if it’s my imagination, but is dick holding himself... differently in this episode? like that wound is definitely bothering him, and he’s running on fumes)

9. man, that was a really sweet scene between kom and conner. “feeling alien in your own world”... “not quite here nor there”

honestly this team runs on conner and gar’s faith in their value as a family, and it’s a sign of conner’s generous heart that he extends that opportunity to blackfire. this arc of maturation for him, where he’s now able to consciously choose which parts of himself he can use to do the thing he wants to so--save people--has been so fulfilling to recognise. this baby’s grown with the titans! and what he’s learnt is that people can get fucked up, but the titans is a place where they can be fucked up, and grow.

MY MAN CONNER

10. oh man i’m drinking in the gar-dick interaction in this episode like i’m three days into the desert and it’s the only source of water for miles around!

a) gar is absolutely not dealing with dick’s bullshit this episode and I LOVE IT. it’s such a far cry from the man who was idolising dick/robin back in s1 and expecting him to solve all their problems. dick is fallible, dick is fucked up, but he Tries His Best and that’s ok.

b) dick, huffing and puffing through that vent, unable to put any pressure on his left shoulder, trying to have a heart to heart with gar... fuck i love this asshole. 

c) bruce took in a kid who was suffering... “and made him into a weapon”. well. i absolutely agree with dick that it was bruce who put these kids into these horrible situations with him and they came away with a bucketload of trauma to add to the one that they already had. but we know that bruce was really trying with jason, and at the end of s2, dick was coming to acknowledge that bruce had offered him something that wasn’t just darkness. jason’s death and bruce’s reaction to that shattered that fragile progress.

d) “gotham got to me too.” i feel more sympathetic towards dick running off on his own than most, and it’s not just because i’m an unapologetic stan.  we’ve seen before that dick... devolves when overwhelmed, and he lashes out and makes ill thought out decisions and just Does Not Deal. it happened after hearing the news that deathstroke had returned in s2, and it didn’t help that everyone around him was reeling at the news, either. this time, however, he has his salvation in his family, and despite some stupid decisions like running off and kidnapping supervillains without telling his team, he’s been really on the ball this season. thinking clearly and logically, holding it together and working on a plan, thinking two steps ahead of the villains... yes.

e) gar needing to believe that jason isn’t beyond redemption... there’s a lot of blood on his hands, too, from when he was manipulated by cadmus last season. it makes sense why he’d relate to jason’s predicament, and i hope dick picked up on that.

f) my head just added a plaintive ow after dick jumped feet first into the storage room

i need, crave gifs of this scene!

11. *sits on hands* i’m going to talk more about red hood, i promise!

12. more gar and dick! is it my birthday??!!

(actually, according to the tamil calendar, it is my birthday! my “star” birthday)

12.5. excellent. dick using some implausible training that bruce taught him to solve a mystery? passing some of that knowledge onto gar? that proud smile when he sees gar perfectly execute moves that he taught him? MY HEART IS EXPLODING

13. aw, i love flashback!dick and barbara, they’re so cute <3

13.25. why does it not surprise me that the way he proposes a relationship to barbara is by saying “we make sense”? this guy can deduce exactly who was present where and what weapon they were holding from a garbled audio recording but other times he’s utterly clueless, and that’s a consistent character beat right from s1

13.5. so.... that’s why lady vic has it out for... barbara....? i don’t get it. it’s flimsy. but hey! the fun thing about titans is that i don’t have to get it. the payoff has nothing to do with the plot.

14. i can’t believe that barbara fell for that, but at least that wheelchair fight looked awesome, so.

15. oh yeah, i forgot that red hood bullied the mob into helping him and scarecrow... at least that explains the whitecoats and the elaborate set-up.

15.5. honestly i love how this dynamic between kory and kom is developing, though i wish more of the team would pay attention to it. time to call justin, i think!

16. i wonder what happened after that second flashback where barbara got hurt during that heist. did she give up on doing any more (maybe jim caught her)? was it because dick was called away by bruce and then the titans and got caught up in his own issues? maybe barbara froze him out because she wasn’t looking for the relationship that he was looking for? maybe the idea of doing that with someone turning into batman-lite was just... unappealing? scary?

whatever it is, it doesn’t look like dick ever processed the end of that relationship. it’s very intriguing to see where their dynamic goes next.

17. so.... what, did vic deliver some fear toxin to barbara? i... what?

17.5. and i TOLD YOU that they would never explain that doll or why vic attacked those two cops at the beginning! oh, titans. never change. 

18. did jason just randomly have tim’s restaurant burgled? god, i’m feeling a bit nauseous... are they going to kill tim’s father?

18.25. i feel like the rest of the season is going to wrestle with jason’s culpability in the horrible stuff he’s doing and i’m already seeing that prospect divide fans. on one hand, his story is taking a lot of oxygen away from other equally interesting story arcs, and he’s done some truly awful things, like indiscriminate murder, threatening to kill children, blowing up hank, and potentially killing tim’s parents. 

there’s something to be said for the kind of hold that crane has over him, and the so-called ‘anti-fear’ drug that he keeps plying jason with--he’s alone, drugged almost constantly (to the level of dependence), fresh from the trauma of being bludgeoned to death. he hasn’t conquered fear; he’s ruled by it. on the other hand, given that he’s the one character on the show given an obvious and identifiable ‘mental illness’ arc (maaaaybe dick too), one can argue that it’s irresponsible to show this progress into such violence: jason was vulnerable because he was struggling, and that left him vulnerable, but it took only a push before he became a fucking serial killer.

but that could mean we underestimate the degree of that vulnerability, and the mechanics of this universe where he fell into the clutches of the one supervillain perfectly designed to exploit that vulnerability. that helpless spiral into further and further self-destruction is all too real. it’s valuable to know that someone who has sunk that low can still seek help--actual help--and get it. 

18.5. i don’t know. it’s not a question i’m going to resolve at the end of an overlong recap at 1 in the morning. i don’t believe it’s even a question that titans can resolve. but i am interested in where they’re going next with jason.

19. this episode was genuinely great! i’m pumped for the rest of the season!

[acapelladitty]

Whole Day Off: Part 4 (The Event)

Pairing: Jonathan Crane/Female Reader

(Warnings in this chapter for: physical assault and attempted sexual assault, neither of which take place at the hands of Crane.)

Summary: After an unprovoked attack forces the Scarecrow to step into an unfamiliar role as a saviour, you find yourself experiencing a new side of Jonathan Crane which you never could have anticipated.

Twisting your keys as you pull them free of the ignition, the engine quickly dies and the chilled air of the night sweeps across your body as you step free of your car. You had not expected to be seeing Crane tonight, but the invitation had been a welcome distraction from the uninteresting pile of work which sat atop your desk at home, awaiting your attention.

As always, the warmth of your long coat keeps most of the cold air out and the only exposed areas of your body are your lower calves as they peek out from the bottom of the coat. The skirt and bra combination, a continued winner in your salacious rendezvous with the infamous Scarecrow, clung to your body beneath the coat and you amuse yourself with his reactions to such an outfit as you hurry along.

A low cough grabs your attention and your head snaps around to take in two nearby figures; their upper bodies leaning against one of the many metal cargo crates which were littered around the dock as their upper halves remained hidden by the evening shadows.

“Hey, baby,” the shorter of the two men piped up, “did you get a little lost?”

Ignoring them, your feet pick up their pace as you move through the dock, treading the familiar path towards your destination.

“Aww, come on now,” the voice continues, “I’m just trying to help you. Why don’t you come over here and tell me your name?”

The vague sound of footsteps in the space behind you forces you to turn your head and you can see that both men have moved off their original position and are now walking behind you at a slight distance. Anxiety grips at your chest as you realise you have no defensive weapons or pepper spray with you and the vulnerability of that knowledge makes your breath catch in your throat.

Moving even faster, you focus on your goal. The warehouse would provide a fantastic cover and there were few who would actively move against the man who resided there once made aware of his presence.

“Why you being so rude, darling?” A new voice, the one of the taller man, joined his friend, “We just want to say hello to the pretty lady.”

Breaking into an open sprint, you briefly appreciate your own foresight as your flat shoes make the task easier than it could have been as your feet pound against the gravel. The warehouse is just up ahead and if you can just get through the doors then there is a lock which will be strong enough to keep both men out.

In the quiet of the dock, the sound of mixed footsteps echoes off the metal containers which litter the area, and your breath comes in short sharp pants as you try to keep a distance. Fear curls against your spine and it is the raw fear of vulnerability, of being the victim of one of the worst types of violence.

A squeal of dismay escapes your throat as a rough hand locks around your upper arm, twisting you in place as you come face-to-face with the shorter of the two men. His mouth is twisted into a cruel smile as his free hand latches on to your other arm.

“Why you running, babe? We just want to talk?”

His face is inches from your own and his breath reeks of cigarettes as it washes over you. To his side, his taller friend wears a similar expression of cruel joy and it makes the anxiety in your stomach roil.

“Maybe you can show my friend and I here how sorry you are for being so rude to us?”

Snatching your hand free in one sharp jolt, you reach out to draw your hand across his jaw as you allow your sharp nails to score a series of lines down his cheek, the redness immediate and raw looking as the blood rushed to the area.

Howling in surprise, the man dropped his grip of your left arm as his hand flew to his face, pressing against the wound with open fingers.

“You fucking bitch!”

His hand drew back for a moment before a searing pain exploded across your lower jaw and you realise that he has struck you. The heat of the blow is stunning, and you can instantly taste copper in your mouth as your lip splits under the force of the hit. Adrenaline spiking, you raise your foot and bring it down sharply; the heel making firm contact with the tips of his toes, and the move catches him so off-guard that he drops his hold of you fully.

Resuming your sprint, the wind whips against your cheek as you move frantically through the dock, the sound of hurried footsteps and garbled obscenities hot on your heels. A wave of relief washes through you as you reach the door of the warehouse, but your hopes are short-lived as a harsh hand makes itself known against your head.

The grip in your hair is painful enough to elicit a short scream from you but it is quickly cut off as your head is thrust forward, colliding against the metal door and causing sparks to fly from behind your eyes as pain flares from the spot. Still a little stunned, you can do little to resist as your body is spun around, back pressing against the door as both men pin you there with firm hands, hard fingers digging in to your soft flesh.

“Stupid bitch.” The taller man speaks with a low growl as his hand settled along your jaw, drawing a grunt from you as his fingers disturb the tenderness there, “You’ll pay for that.”

The sensation of a hand fumbling messily at your coat buttons renews your panicked fury as you struggle in place, attempting to free your body from its pinned position as hot tears prick at your eyes and your chest heaves.

“Stop. Struggling. Cunt.” The words are hissed as a hand once again makes itself known against your scalp, pulling your hair with enough force to make you yelp as the pain blossoms across your head.

You are unable to prevent the inevitable as your coat is pulled open by rough hands, the fabric falling to the sides as a fresh well of shame rises to your cheeks when your almost naked form is exposed to their evil leers.

“Oh, I think we caught ourselves a whore, Don.” The shorter man grins, his eyes roving over your exposed chest as his fingers pluck at the thin lace of your bra strap, “You working tonight, baby?”

Lip trembling, you want nothing more than to cover yourself but with both hands pinned against the door, such a desire is unavailable and so you can do little but whimper as the free hand of the taller man ghosts over your chest.

Slipping his hand within the lace bra, fresh revulsion makes your throat tight as his disgusting fingers knead at your breast for a moment before pulling free.

“Oh, she’s a professional alright,” his words were rough, laced with sadistic joy, “you can smell it on the cunt.”

Fear and rage churn a torrid mixture within your gut and, at his words, you turn to face him fully as you use what little moisture you have left in your mouth to spit in his face.

“Fucking whore!” He recoils as your spit lands on his cheek and his retaliation is immediate as his hands dip within his jacket and pull free a small blade, the metal glinting in the low light, “Disgusting little slut.”

Pressing the blade against your stomach, blind panic seizes at your body as you suck in a sharp breath. The trembling of your fingers against the door is uncontrollable as the lump in your throat makes fresh tears spring into your eyes. Through your fear, a slight pain makes itself known and you know the blade had left a small nick in your skin, enough to serve as a warning.

The blade remains against your skin even as the shorter man drops his hold of your wrist.

“Keep the bitch there,” he grunts, his hands dropping to his slacks, “I’ve got a surprise for her.”

Blinking back the tears which were threatening to escape your eyes, you would not give these men the satisfaction of seeing your distress.

However, just as the tell-tale click of his belt unlatching sounded, a shadow emerged from the darkness behind him and a high grunt of surprise broke free of his chest as a thin arm wrapped itself around his chin and twisted his head to the side. Within seconds, his body had dropped to the floor unmoving as a syringe protruded from his exposed neck; the needle having been slammed in there and its contents deposited in one fell swoop by the man who now stood over the fallen body with a predatory stance.

Despite your fear, a frantic bubble of hope welled within you as you take in the sight of Jonathan Crane.

His usual clothing is all there, shirt and slacks covered by a pristine white lab coat, but his expression is hidden by his infamous Scarecrow mask; the burlap removing any human elements of his person as it concealed his mood and intentions.

It was the first time you had seen him wear any of his costume in person and a low whimper drew free of your throat as the taller man tightened his grip on your arm, the knife still pressed against your stomach.

“What the fuck is this?” Open panic clouded your assailants’ words, and it was clear he knew who he was dealing with from the genuine fear in his expression, “Why are you here?”

“Gotham is my city.” Distorted by the mask, Crane’s voice was almost unrecognisable, and it sent a shiver down your spine as you attempted to match it up with the man you had come to know, “I am everywhere as every shadow and darkness bends to the Scarecrow.”

“St-stay away from me,” his bravado gone, the man pulled you forward to stand between him and Crane, “leave me alone and I’ll give you girl.”

Bastard.

Even unable to see his expression, you could feel Crane’s eyes as they took in your form and a wave of shame and upset rocketed through you at how pathetic you must look in this moment.

“The girl already belongs to me,” the distorted voice spoke once again, devoid of any emotion, “as does everyone in this city. However, I will accept your cowardly bargain. Hand me the girl and we have an accord.”

Open relief flooded the expression of the man holding you as he released you from his grip, shoving at your back roughly as he pushed you towards Crane. Not expecting the shove, you stumble across the uneven ground but find your balance in Crane’s extended arm which presses against your torso almost urgently as he pushes something against you.

Glancing down, you take the simple gas mask into numb fingers as you press it against your mouth and nose. Barley a second passed before a dull thud was followed by loud hissing filling the air as a plume of orange-tinged smoke engulfed the small area and the three individuals caught within it.

A fear grenade.

You had seen his work on them in the basement.

The smoke stung at your eyes and you slammed them shut as you focused on even your breathing through the mask, desperately hoping to avoid the fate which had been decided for the bastard who attacked you. Eyes still closed, the sound of screaming cut through the cold air and you flinched at the sudden noise as loud wails and panicked grunts washed over you.

A firm hand on your shoulder makes you crack one eye open, and you can see that the smoke has dispersed as you turn to face your saviour. His mask is still on and the lack of visibility makes your heart stutter even as adrenaline continues to course through you. You hold his passive gaze for a silent moment before a fresh round of screaming draws your attention to the man on the floor.

Writhing in place as his mind conjured his every fear, the fallen form of your attacker looked very uncomfortable in the hell of his own making as you came to stand by his side. His body curled towards you, almost like instinct, and you draw your foot back to land a harsh kick to his ribs. The kick draws a low keen from his throat as he curls his body up further but the fire of revenge stokes your heart as you land another kick.

“Fucking bastard!” You hiss, teeth baring in rage even as a suspicious wetness once again threatened the corners of your eyes.

Drawing your foot back again, you deliver one final kick and this time you make sure that the target of your violence is his fear-consumed face. The ball of your foot connects harshly with his nose and a sickening crack makes itself known as blood immediately begins to spurt from his nostrils and his screaming ceases into nothing.

Unconscious.

Good.

Fuck him.

Your hands settle on the edges of your coat and your whole body shakes as you run your hands along the torn seam of the lapel. Your lip wobbles dangerously at the damage but you move past it as you fix the straps of your bra, forcing yourself to correct the mess that your attackers had left you in as you swallow down the small trickle of blood which your split lip bled into your mouth.

A loud metallic slam makes you jerk in place and you whirl around at the noise. Behind you, you just catch sight of Crane dragging the prone body of the smaller man through the warehouse door as he begins to move the bodies from the open.

Waiting patiently as he reappears, you want to thank him for his help but the words seem to stick in your throat as your trembling fingers instead move to play with the hem of your skirt.

Perhaps sensing your uncertainty, his voice is low as he speaks and the clarity of it makes you realise that he has turned off the voice modulator within his mask.

“Go inside to the basement,” the words are calm and yet they border no argument, “and wait for me there. I will move our guests indoors and then join you when I have them secured.”

Nodding even as your knees wobble at the effort of movement, you follow his instructions as you slip within the warehouse and carefully avoid the dumped body as you head towards the basement stairs.

Your feet feel heavy below you as you hear him begin to move the second body and you pause at the base of the stairs to survey the basement. It looked as typical as ever with several pages of work strewn across his desk as the shadows in the far corners of the room held what remained of his costume as it clung to the mannequin there.

Moving through the large space, you settle your gaze on the familiar metal gurney which was bolted to the floor at a nearby wall. It was a gurney which you often found yourself pinned to under his strong hands and it was a familiar space which your legs guided you towards.

The canvas across the gurney was soft as you lay your ass on it and pushed yourself up.

Now seated, you press your back against the wall as you drew your knees up to your chin. The heat from your legs is welcome against your chest and you wrap your arms around your knees as you settle into the comforting position. The shaking of your body is undeniable as is the ache across your abused flesh, from your bruised jaw to your throbbing scalp, and you take a moment just to breathe.

The vague knowledge of where you were pressed against your consciousness, and you had to admit to yourself that it was almost sad how much relief being in this familiar environment brought you. You were trapped within the lair of a different monster, but the sense of safety was undeniable.

You have no idea how long you remained in that position, time seeming to move at a questionable pace as your mind raced with the events of the evening, but your attention was soon captured by the reappearance of Crane as his heavy footfalls made their way down the basement stairs.

Watching him as he moved towards his workbench, his mask was clasped within his hands and a sigh escaped you as he dropped the mask on his chair before dipping his hands within one of the nearby drawers. Taking in the messy shock of disarray which the mask had left his hair in, you were thankful that he had neglected to keep the thing on as you took in his welcome appearance.

He approached you at a steady pace and your eyes flicked to his hand, taking in the small med-kit there for a moment before settling against his face. His expression was passive, but the signs of his rage were there, hidden in the tightness of his eyes and the thinned lips as they pressed together harshly.

You did not imagine the rage was directed at you, but the sensitivity of your emotions made you flinch away as his hand reached out for your own, your eyes darting away to look at anything but his face.

Ignoring the flinch, his hands settled on your ankles with a gentle firmness as he pulled them free of the gurney to hang in the air just above the floor. Your hands moved out to press against the canvas as he moved you to an upright position, his gaze piercing as he surveyed the damage to your face.

A small click of the med-kit opening alerted you to his intentions and you remained in place, lacking the energy to truly protest. His hands are clinical and precise as they swipe at your split lip with an antiseptic cloth, cleaning the blood there as he removed any dirt from the wound. Your tongue slips out to brush at the small wound and the sharp taste of the chemicals makes your nose crinkle.

Moving lower, his fingers make themselves known on your stomach and you jerk in position at the unexpected touch.

“You have a cut on your abdomen. It needs cleaned to prevent infection.”

In the chaos of your thoughts, you had forgotten about the knife wound and you give a pathetic nod as you relax your stomach to allow him to wipe off the small nick in the skin.

Having spoken once and broken the awkward air, he was quick to do so again.

“I heard the commotion and assumed I was being targeted,” his voice is low and confidential but there is an odd edge of discomfort to it which catches your full attention, “so I took some time to prepare my toxin and mask. Hence the delay.”

Your brow furrows slightly at the words, not understanding his point until it hits you.

It was his version of an apology.

For not helping sooner.

“I was foolish,” you answer, almost reflexively, “and I didn’t have anything with me to help. They saw a chance and took it; I should have known better. Especially at the docks.”

His hands stilled for a moment as he listened to your words.

“You cannot hope to control rabid dogs,” his tone was measured, not comforting but it had lost some of its earlier steel, “and those men were little more than parasites. No rational being can find pleasure in taking a truly unwilling soul.”

As much as you agreed with the sentiment, there was still a strangeness to hearing him confess to it out loud. Your mind flittered through the various crimes and atrocities which had been ascribed to the man before you and it struck you that for all his monstrosities, that could not be counted among them.

Your eyes met his for a moment and, as though once again sensing your thoughts, a fleeting mixture of irritation and amusement passed through his gaze as he moved from your stomach to lay his hands flat on your hips.

Pinning you with his gaze, his words were heated as his thumbs pressed into your skin.

“Rape is a tool of fear for those who are too weak to do any better. They seek power by inflicting the basest horror on their victims. Such a primal fear has no real power and is better left to the imagination. I would not sully myself to lower my standards in such a way.”

Despite the firmness of his grip, his hands are still gentle against your skin as you lean forward into his space, capturing his lips with your own in a soft kiss. The rush of adrenaline that has been holding you together is dissipating and it its wake you can feel an almost desperate need to please him as you focus on his presence. The familiar taste of him in your mouth is welcome as you latch on to the pleasant feeling, ignoring the prick of tears as they once again threaten the corners of your eyes.

Your hands claw at the lapels of his lab coat as you press your mouth against his, greedily biting at his lips despite the sting in your own as you feel his glasses pressing against the bridge of your nose. His grip is steady on your body as he stands between your spread thighs, and it tightens noticeably as your hands free his coat to dip lower and brush against the bulge of his crotch.

His lips pull full free of your own as his head settles in the crook of your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin there with his sharp teeth as he growls under your ministrations. Blinking, you feel a tickle against your cheek, and you wipe away the fallen tear with the back of your hand as you press your chest against him.

One finger dips below your skirt and teases along the length of your panties as his head lowers itself to your chest; chapped lips pressing along the line of your collarbone as they trailed a pathway towards your breasts.

Your breath stutters for a moment, the noise coming out almost like a sob and, as he pulls his head back up to speak to you, the words die on his lips as he takes in your frantic and borderline distressed state.

The lustful haze in his eyes appears to almost harden as his hand pulls free from its position below your skirt and instead settles below your chin; the analytical frown which often graces his expression returning full force as his gaze pins you in place.

Whatever he finds there makes his lips twist for a moment in clear indecision before his decision comes and he moves away from your body, taking a measured step back even as you lean towards him once again.

“No,” his words are simple and firm, “not right now.”

Shame and disappointment burn at your skin as your lip trembles with the perceived rejection. Your fingers are visibly shaking as they reach out for him carelessly, clawing in the open air as desperation once again bubbles in your chest.

“I want you,” your words are soft but the strength of them is missing, “I want this.”

Stepping back between your thighs, your heaving chest presses out against him but is stopped by his hand between your breasts as his palm lays flat across the latch of your lace bra.

“What you want, I cannot give you and it is clear that you are not in a position to offer me anything I can accept.” His tone has the grace to hold a little regret, but the steel is undeniable as he refuses your advances, “What I can offer you is a mild sedative, the effects of which will last around an hour and will give you time to settle your psyche. Then we can see about our little game.”

Panic settles in your gut as you attempt to decipher any hidden meaning or intentions in his words. A sedative is what he claims to want to give you and you have no reason to doubt his words. But still, he was the wolf and you were little more than his willing prey and that dynamic could not be ignored.

His grip against your jaw, tactfully avoiding the bruised area, loosened slightly as he once again caught your attention.

“I am a patient man, witty girl,” amusement threaded his tone and touched at his gaze as he held your eyes, “and I can enjoy your temptations whenever. Take this time I offer to heal.”

Nodding your consent, you allow him to pull you from the gurney and set you on your feet as your hands make quick work of your coat, dropping it in a messy pile atop the gurney as you shiver in the cool air of the basement.

His presence is quick to disappear from your side as he strode towards his workstation and you instead head in the opposite direction, making a steady path to the old couch which took up residence against one of the far walls near his costume.

The fabric of the couch is soft below your skin and you appreciate the sensation as you patiently await the good doctor to administer your medicine. One hand is tucked within his lab coat as the other holds a syringe aloft as he approaches you, allowing you to see the sedative openly.

Taking a space as he seats himself on the couch by your side, he extends his hand expectantly and you place the back of your wrist within it. His fingers are as steady and clinical as ever as he taps your forearm, searching for a perfect entry point, before depositing the full amount in your system. The needle was so fine you barely felt it and the slight burn of the medicine as it enters your bloodstream forces you to release a sigh while he discards the syringe on the arm of the couch.

As he stands, he pulls his lab coat free of his body and you reach a hand out and wrap it around his wrist to halt him from moving away.

“Stay with me,” you ask, forcing a tone of nonchalance despite your real desire to not be left alone, “just until the sedative kicks in.”

To your surprise, he relents and retakes his seat on the couch.

Feeling bolstered by his apparent generosity, you incline your body to the side as you pull your legs up on the couch and angle your head so that it lay flat against the thin expanse of his thighs.

You feel his muscles tense below you for a moment and you prepare for the rejection, but it never comes as he instead snatches up a nearby psychiatric journal and turns to one of the many ear-marked pages as he balances the journal on his lab coat.

The sedative is doing its job well and you feel your body loosening as it forces your muscles to relax. A low shiver wracks your frame as your bra and skirt do little to fend off the cool air of the basement. Your jacket was still atop the gurney and your legs were in no position to be travelling to collect it.

Your concerns were solved by a sudden movement on his part as he snatched up the lab coat from his lap and dropped it over your prone body, allowing you to hook your fingers along the edges of it and pull it over you like a blanket.

“Thanks,” your words are sincere but drowsy as your thoughts become woozy, “for everything.”

His answer is little more than a grunt.

“What will you do with them?”

Even as you ask it, the question catches you by surprise and his head tilts down, catching your eyes with his sharp gaze.

“Your assailants will not survive the week.” His tone is firm and unflinching, the words holding no apology, “I will use them as test subjects for my new toxin variant and if they do not die under the experimentation then I will dispose of them manually.”

Eyes fluttering shut, you focus on the lull of his voice as he continues to speak.

“Does that bother you?”

Curiosity colours his words and you fight the fog of your mind as you consider your answer. Guilt is the furthest thing from your mind as you imagine both of your attackers screaming under the torments of the Scarecrow; their screams that much different to the screams which he often drew from your own lungs.

A smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you give him an honest answer.

“No.”

And with that confession, you surrender yourself to the becoming darkness as the sedative wins out and lulls you into sleep.

Full fic available on AO3

[random-imagines-blog]

Under Atomic Skies {John Blake x Reader}

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 2558 Summary: John Blake would do just about anything to keep his family safe.

You looked over at John as he came into your cozy little Gotham home. His mouth was set in a grim line against the contours of his handsome face. You could feel the stress radiating off of him. “Did the kids see?” He asked, turning off the television that you were sitting in front of. You shook your head in a no, and he sighed in relief. They were playing in their rooms, your son and your daughter. The blasts in the street had caused the house to rumble, but they didn’t ask any questions. They just played ‘earthquake’. You didn’t want to explain to them what happened until your husband, John, got home with his own explanation. And what he said, all of it, it broke your heart. This was the city you both grew up in. This was the city you had fallen in love in. Gave birth in, raised your kids in, got a mortgage in, worked in, made your home. And it was being threatened once more.

“There’s going to be riots, and looting, and who knows what else,” You said, your eyes looking over to the front door. There were three locks on it already, with John being a bit of a cautious man. With you being a cop’s wife. But those three didn’t seem enough when you were now the wife of the only cop, or detective, left to protect the city. The rest were caught in the underground. John’s partner included. “What are we going to tell the kids? Is Ross alright? Should we move to a safe house?”

“Ross is fine, I’ve already figured out where he is. There’s a sewer grate right above them, I can talk to him,” John said, which made you give your own sigh of relief. Your husband’s partner was like family, your kids even called him Uncle Ross. “I have hope in Gotham, we’ll get through this, sweetheart.”

But you weren’t so sure. You loved this city, but it tended to turn out bad people one after another. Thieves, mobsters, even an evil clown. And now this man who called himself Bane. It was safe to say that you were terrified, and wished that you shared in your husband’s positivity. In his hope. It was one of the things that you loved best about him. And things usually turned out pretty okay. The city had John Blake - it was going to be okay.

--

The days started to seem shorter as the countdown to the bomb began. There just didn’t seem to be enough time in the day to really appreciate each and every one. John was gone most of the time, working as a Detective, working with Batman, being the only cop in a city which was run by madness. You hardly ever left the house, and when you did, it was to go to the boys’ orphanage and help out there. There was no point in trying to work from home right now, the business was down the toilet. So you took on volunteering at the boys home, bringing your kids with you so you could keep an eye on them all at the same time. Father Reilly appreciated your help.

“It’s good for the boys to see a friendly face,” He admitted to you as you were passing out juice boxes to the kids. “All of them seemed to be glued to the news the days. They’re too young for such things. Too innocent.”

“If I wasn’t here, I’d be doing the same,” You admitted to the friendly father. You kept pressing that smile on your face, just as John did when he came home and gave the kids a huge hug each night. But the news was wearing you down. Scarecrow, Dr Jonathan Crane, was acting as judge, jury and executioner. All of the major shopping centers were looted as ‘wealth’ was dispersed in the way of material goods. You never joined in on any of that. You weren’t going to let the city take you down with it.

“There’s always hope,” Father Reilly said, putting his hand on your shoulder in solidarity. “That’s something I learned from being around these boys. No matter what life throws at them, they still play with a smile on their face.”

“It’s hard not to stay hopeful with John around,” you admitted, sitting on a bench with a juicebox of your own. You looked out over Gotham. There was still smoke in the air. There was always smoke in the air. The sounds of chanting from the courthouse. Vehicles still moving about down there, despite there really being nowhere to go. John had filled you in that one of those large trucks was carrying around the bomb, and your eyes caught on one as it turned a corner a few blocks down. It was terrifying, knowing that it was so close. But you still had a few days before it would go off. There was still time to find it. There was time to fix this whole mess. “Include John in your prayers tonight for me, father? It can’t hurt for us to be a little louder.”

“I already include him every night, y/n,” Father said, sitting beside you, stretching out his old leg bones. He was no longer the young man who used to chase John around this very building. The stress was taking a toll on him, and had even before the bombings. “And all of those officers stuck under the city.”

“They’re getting food and water, and vitamin D tablets,” You explained. “John and Ross have been keeping in touch. He’s even been scouting out an area where he might be able to get them out. He’s been working nonstop on this. I hope that when it’s all over, I can convince him to take a break.”

“Good luck asking him to take a break from anything,” Father Reilly laughed. It was the first real laugh you had heard since this whole thing began, at least from someone other than a child. It made you grin. You knew that it was absolutely true. John was one of the most dedicated people in this city. And when he believed in something, whether it’s in Batman, or in you, he never gave up on it. He’d fight til the end.

--

The day after tomorrow. The bomb was going to blow, according to John. The military still weren’t letting people go across the bridge. They were even threatening to blow that up themselves to stop people. Most of the population didn’t know, they were much too busy fighting each other to realize that Bane wasn’t actually going to give a detonator to an ordinary citizen. Or that an ordinary citizen would even want this city to blow up. He had to have the detonator all this time. And with Batman missing again, and the cops still trapped, and only very few people actually working on the streets... even your hope was beginning to wane. And John’s.

You moved into the shelter with the boys, taking care of them, tucking them in, acting like the mother that they never had. Because if all went wrong, this would be their last few days and they deserved to feel that love. You put the blankets over them, made sure that they had their bears which they were given as emotional support, and gave them each a peck on the forehead. Even the older boys, so quick to shun the bears since they were childish, needed something to hold onto.

The day before the bomb went off was chaotic. All of your rations were packed away to take off in the morning, just in case things didn’t work out. John was convinced that the military would see reason and let a bus full of children across. And you, importantly. He wasn’t going to be able to go on if anything happened to you, he admitted.

“You just do your job, Detective Blake,” You said, laying in bed with him, looking into his big, dark brown eyes. “And keep up hope that everything is going to turn out alright. It’s like that saying you know I love so much. Everything will be okay in the end, and if it’s not okay, then it’s not the end. We have to remain optimistic about this. Not just for us, but for the kids.”

--

The bomb was set to go off in less than an hour. All of the kids, the father, a few other works, John and yourself had piled onto the schoolbus and tried to get out to the bridge. The military were guarding it cautiously. Too cautiously. Guns were pointed not only at you, who had gotten out to support John, and your husband. Father Reilly was giving up hope. But you weren’t. The second that John had gotten the door unlocked, you slipped through it, standing in front of him.

“Please,” You pleaded, stepping forward tentatively. Your eyes were struggling to meet the soldier’s, and not just focus on his gun. “I’m asking you not as a citizen of Gotham, but as a mother. As a human being. These children are innocent in all of this. If they don’t leave, they’re going to get killed anyway. Have you seen the riots, and the looting, and all of the crime? Is that an environment you want your kids raised in?”

“You need to get back,” The soldier said, though his voice was shakier than before.

“Please, do not shoot,” John yelled, his accent cutting through the air. He walked up alongside you, badge in hand, those hands up towards the sky. He stepped in alongside you, then a step ahead, protecting you. Always acting like your human shield. Warning shots came towards you, to the ground by your feet.

“Get back,” John whispered to you. And you didn’t fight him on that, you went right back behind the chain-link door with the others, but watched with worried eyes. Your fingers slipped through the holes, gripping onto the metal. However much John worried about you getting hurt, you worried right back. Tenfold. The city would be lost without him. You would be lost without him, so would the kids.

“Detective, please, stop!” The young looking officer barked out. He looked as scared as you felt. But John was stubborn, and wasn’t going to stop for anything. He took two steps forward. More bullets shot near his feet, sending little shocks of light. That made him pause, but not stop. Another step. “STOP WALKING.” He looked towards another soldier that was with him and said the words that made your heart stop. “BLOW IT.”

The two men disappeared behind the shelters made of sandbags. “John-” You cried out, hoping to God that he would turn around and walk back to you before the explosives would go off.

“DO IT.” The soldier ordered.

Your stubborn husband. He made another step before the explosives detonated. Smoke filled your vision, but you saw that he was thrown backwards. You went through the door again, coughing through the dark and acrid smoke, trying to find him. A whole section of the bridge fell from existence, causing a rumble that made you fall. A hand caught your own, and you could feel from familiarity that it was John’s.

“YOU SONS OF BITCHES,” John said, getting onto his feet and pulling you up alongside with him. He had his arms around you, still shielding you from the military. You avoided looking at them now, because John was speaking what you were thinking. “YOU KILLED US.”

It was hard to maintain that hope in the face of this much adversity, but you had to try. He was moving back towards the door, back towards the kids. You stopped him outside of the bus, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, and brought him in for what might be your last hug. “You’ve done everything that you can, my love,” You said, looking into his dark eyes. “I have faith in the Batman. And in Gordon. They’re figuring this out, and if they don’t then - then you cannot blame yourself. You risked your life time and time again. Gotham can not ask any more from you.”

John nodded, but you could still see the frustration on his face. But then another expression took over it. One of hope. And wonder. He pointed behind you, towards the skies, towards the water. You turned around to see that there was some black thing flying through the air, holding what looked to be-

- the bomb.

It was being flown over the waters, towards the sea, away from Gotham. Batman had come through. There was no mistaking who else it could be in that jetblack air craft. Nobody else had the technology for that. Your hands went to your heart, holding it in because it was beating so quickly, it felt like it might pop out. John put his arms around you from behind. All of the kids rushed to one side of the bus to look out of the windows. There were excited voices coming from everywhere.

Then the bomb went off. You could see the explosion from where you were. It caused a stiff wind to blow towards you. The bridge rippled as the water beneath it did as well. It was a wonder that the windows of the bus didn’t break. But it was gone, and it was over. And though you felt relieved, you looked up at John with sorrow. He had believed in the Batman, more than he believed in his own police force. But at least the threat against your family, for now, was over and done with.

--

When you first saw him wearing the mask and the suit, you were worried. Who wouldn’t be? He was taking over the moniker of Batman and all of the enemies that brought along with it. But at least he had promised that he would wear the mask, something he had sworn never to do in the first place. But he had you to think about, and the kids. He’d already had an enemy threaten you, with Bane and the entire city, and he realized this wasn’t just about playing heroics. It was about taking care of his own. His people. Gotham’s people.

“Are you going to be home to tuck the kids into bed?” You asked, before John set off to go to the underground bunker. Even you didn’t know the exact location. The less you knew, the better.

“I’ll try to be,” He said, cupping your chin and pressed a sweet and loving, though quick, kiss upon your lips. “Don’t wait up for me though.”

“Easier said than done,” You said. He chuckled, knowing that was the truth, gave you a long look like he was memorizing your face, then disappeared out into the evening twilight, to get ready to prowl the night in his newly assigned role as The Batman.