#Scarecrow imagine

[finniestoncrane]

Requests about anyone ye say? In that case, chef's choice for your preferred Scarecrow scaring their significant other and how they would react to said person attempting to scare him in return? Much love to ya <3

Scarecrow Headcanons aaaaaaaah!! thank you bud!! so much lvoe back to you for this smashing idea, and i'm going to pick golden age jon because i have THOUGHTS about this silly little beast on this exact subject 🎃🧡 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: couple of suggestive things, but this is mostly just cutesy fluff, it does mention phobias and attempts at scaring people but like... it's scarecrow so... yeah

fear is obviously the way he shows his dominance, the way he finds his control

but it's also, weirdly or not really, the way he shows affection too

call it exposure therapy, or conditioning, but he wants his significant other to be able to withstand anything

and when it comes to him, it really could be anything

sure he just seems like some stuffy professor, scruffy and tired and stuck in a fantasy world within the pages of his books

but he has big plans, and he'd hate to think he might lose you

especially if it happened because he was too frightening for you

so expect to be pushed to your limits when it comes to your fears and phobias

once he knows what it is that gets you, he'll utilise it in order to elicit the perfect reaction from you

it's a confusing game, for both of you

it pains him to have to cause this kind of trauma to someone he adores, but it's a necessary evil

and then the aftercare always sweetens the deed, like a little sugary treat after some sickly medicine

and for you, it's a lot to constantly face your fears

but there's something thrilling about seeing a more confident and dangerous side to crane

something about the adrenaline rush has both of you going

so it's only natural that you might consider making an attempt at scaring him

returning the favour, making sure he knows you care enough about his... hobbies

at first, it knocks him back a little, throws him off his game

he's screeching, clutching his chest, adjusting his glasses with stuttered words

but once he's regained his composure he's acutely aware that there's a tingle in his bones

there's something delightfully sinful about it all

and he manages to pinpoint it to the notion of corruption

he's turned you to the dark side, a follower of his manifesto, a true partner in crime

[robinofgothamcity]

“You’re going to be a great experiment, one that I never want to stop working on.”

Character: Jonathan Crane / DC

Authors note: please read my reintroduction post <3 it would mean a lot, especially if you’re an older follower and if you’re a newer follower, that would be just as great because you’ll get a sense the reintroduction to my page! / anwayyy, god I’m such a whore for Jonathan Crane it’s ridiculous. Also, let me know if you’re interested in a second part to this? It seems like it could use one but idk, it really depends on how much you guys would like this part first.

Possible warnings: do want to add a warning for drug mentions and use of drug!

Being the newer doctor down at Arkham felt like you were the new kid that moved into a new school in the middle of the year. It was terrifying, a bit overwhelming considering the patients, and not to mention, your colleagues never spoke to anyone unless it was for work purposes. You couldn’t help but wonder if it was like this because of the environment you were in but even your time when working with prisoners for Arkham wasn’t as stuffy.

The only reason you decided to switch departments was because of the pay raise. You didn’t know that working with such uppity coworkers was going to be for you. You wanted to at lease make a few new friends in the department but you knew that was less than possible considering no one ever chased a conversation like you had hoped they would.

You opened the door, decided now would be the best time to take you lunch. You weren’t expecting any clients for the next hour and you figured you’d get a meal in before your next one arrived.

Just as you were about to close the door, you noticed Dr.Crane approaching you.

“Morning Dr.Crane! How’s your morning!” You asked cheerfully. He stepped inside your office, not responding to your question, “I’m hearing from one of my colleagues over at the forensics department that you’re staying late tonight?”

“Ah, yeah! I’m getting a few more clients soon and I haven’t gotten some spare time to look over their files so I figured it’d be better to just stay a bit late tonight so I can be ready for them next week,” you replied. Jonathan sighed, “do not overwork yourself, it does nothing but cause a stress in your life.”

You found it a bit strange that Jonathan was suddenly caring about your decisions to stay late considering this was one of the first times that Jonathan had ever approached you for something that wasn’t work related. You knew that Jonathan wasn’t one of the most approachable ones based on the fact that most of your colleagues had warned about how strange Jonathan was. They had all mentioned that if it wasn’t for the fact that Jonathan was one of the more tenured workers, Arkham would have fired him by now.

“Oh, okay,” you replied cautiously, “I appreciate the advice?” You responded.

Jonathan didn’t respond as he looked at the files of your newest clients, “I wouldn’t worry too much on these clients. Bipolar disorder, clinical depression, and anxiety patients tend to be one of the more easier clients especially when dealing with the population in Gotham,” he said as he flipped through the files. You gave him a smile, “oh I know, when dealing with Arkham prisoners, my biggest issue was murderers and I don’t know why they kept giving me them considering I made it very clear that I didn’t want to deal with them.”

“Is that why you left and switched to the psychology department?” He asked. You thought for a moment, “not really. I actually got offered a higher paying position in this department. I originally applied to just be a prison psychologist but I figured dealing with the regular population instead of notorious gangsters would cause less stress.”

Jonathan couldn’t help but chuckle at your response, “there is no regular population in Gotham.” This time, you couldn’t help but laugh at him, “unless you’ve worked with the ruthless gangsters and murderers that Gotham has produced, I can beg to differ,” you said as you noticed Jonathan finally stepping out. You really didn’t know what it was that he really wanted but considering this was the first time you’ve actually had a conversation that wasn’t exactly work related, you’d take it.

-

You looked over to the clock realizing that it read eight in the evening. You quickly realized that most of your coworkers were now gone and it must’ve been you and a few of a the janitors.

You put all of your things into a bag, hoping that you’d just get something quick to eat and make it home.

Once you approached the front doors, you noticed that Jonathan was at his desk writing a few things down. You gave him a small wave and made your way to the door to leave but as you were about to reach your car, you noticed Jonathan approaching you again.

“A few of my friends and I are catching a rather late dinner tonight, would you be interested in coming along with me?” You blinked at him in disbelief. This past afternoon was the first time you’ve actually had spoken to him in a friendly manner and now he was asking you to catch dinner? “Um, depends? I don’t really know anyone here and the few friends that work at Arkham I don’t think would know anyone in our department.”

“If I remember correctly, your close friends with Edward Nashton in forensics?” You gave him another look in disbelief, wondering how the hell he knew him, “he was the one that gave me a headd up about your application for the psychology department. We’ve been friends for a rather long time if you were wondering.

You were going to grab Eddie by the neck for not telling you that he was friends with Jonathan.

“I mean, that doesn’t sound too bad. Where were you guys thinking of having dinner?” Jonathan fixed his glasses as he looked down to his phone, “there’s this really nice diner downtown that Eddie and I frequent from time to time. How about you just follow me and we can walk there,” he responded.

You agreed, not really having another choice so you quickly put your things into your car and met with Jonathan.

“So, has anyone been giving you a hard time? I know some of our colleagues can be a bit odd especially with newer staff,” you shook your head no, “for the most part, no problems at all. I just wish everyone was more friendlier. Back when I was the psychiatrist for Arkham with the prisoners, all of the staff was very friendly and easy to conversational with but now it seems like everyone just hates it there and cannot keep a conversation to save their lives.”

Jonathan couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Ah, so you have noticed the strange way of our coworkers to which I am not surprised by at all,” Jonathan replied. You clapped happily in agreement, “like I know I’m very talkative but it looks like it almost hurts them to speak unless it’s about work. I guess in a way that isn’t a bad thing considering that means there isn’t any workplace drama but I do miss having a friend to speak too.”

As the two of you approached the diner, you noticed that Eddie already had a table set for you.

“You moron, how come you didn’t tell me you knew Dr.Crane,” you said as you smacked him on the back of the head. Eddie looked to Jonathan and laughed, “well, you didn’t exactly ask. I just figured you’d end up becoming his friend anyway.”

You gave him one final look of disbelief before looking to the waiter. He looked no older than 22 and seemed like he wanted nothing more than to just leave the damn diner, “I’ll take your soup of the day if that isn’t too much,” he nodded as he slid you your water. As you went to grab a complimentary packet of crackers, you failed to see the look on Jonathan’s face as he looked at the waiter who was very much checking you out.

“Would you guys mind watching my bag? I need to run to the bathroom,” Edward nodded as he put it on the chair next to him. As soon as you were out of hearing range, Jonathan gave him a smirk, “I do like her so be nice with her,” Edward stated as Jonathan agreed, “she might be a little airy in the head but she seems like a good candidate for my newest drug.”

Edward shook his head.

“She’s very smart i do have to say. She graduated from Gotham with honors but I think she just likes to talk and be friendly with everyone. What is it with her and the drug you want to test out?” He asked. Jonathan held the small vile of liquid in his hand as he dropped it entirely into your water, “that is for you to find out Edward. She is in safe hands, I can promise you that but I just need to make sure that your friend here is a permanent yet perfect candidate for this experiment.”

Edward hummed in response as he slid the file that was in his bag over to Jonathan. It contained all of your personal information that you thought would only confidential to Arkham. It included your address, prior education history, former employers, and your tags for any social media you had. Edward and Jonathan had been conjuring up this little plan for over a year and while you were almost entirely clueless about it, they knew it wouldn’t take you long to realize it which is why Jonathan created the drug he spilled into your water to make you almost entirely oblivious to it.

“I can sense that my duty here is done?” Edward asked as he stood up from the table, “I’ll make sure to send her a message on my abrupt disappearance,” Edward added on as he quickly left the diner.

You walked out of the bathroom with your blazer now on your arm and your shirt being a bit more unbuttoned. Jonathan couldn’t help but laugh. The drug he had placed on the files, which he knew you were going to inevitably touch, was already making you more comfortable around him and he knew if you drank from the water, it would just give him a bigger advantage when it came to his endgame with his experiment.

Jonathan knew that finding love in the most conventional way was not in his ballpark. Jonathan wanted a woman with intelligence, someone he could speak to without feeling like he was talking to a brick wall and although there were plenty of women in Arkham who could fill that role, he knew that his plans as Scarecrow would turn all of them away and even get him in the hands of GCPD. Jonathan clearly did not want that but he also knew that he wanted someone who could rule beside him as a lover and as a second hand ‘assistant’ when it came to dealing with him as scarecrow as well as giving The Riddler and The Mad Hatter a hand when they needed it.

“Did Edward run to the bathroom as well?” You asked taking a drink of the water, “oh, Arkham had an emergency in the forensics department and he had to leave. He hoped that you wouldn’t mind,” Jonathan explained.

You shook your head nonchalantly, “no issue at all! But hey, isn’t it crazy that we were just coworkers not even a few hours ago and we’re now getting dinner?” You mentioned. Jonathan laugh, “crazy indeed. It looks like your dinner is here!” He replied as he picked at his own plate, not really in the mood to have dinner. He was more interested in seeing how long the drug would take to enter your system.

The two of you continued to talk over dinner, a casual conversation flowed between the two of you as you had no idea in the world that Jonathan now had his entire plan in motion. The more the two of you talked, the more you got closer. It started with you leaning over to him everything time he spoke and the way you were now, it was very clear his drug didn’t need a boost considering you were almost on the man.

Your shirt was down to the middle buttons and you were crossing your legs tightly.

“I do have a bottle of fine at my place if you want to continue the conversation there! I figure the diner might close soon but if you don’t feel comfortable with that, I’ll see you at work on Monday?” You asked. Jonathan grabbed your blazer along with your bag and held it on his arm, “lead the way to your apartment,” he said.

You instantly got up, making sure to leave a tip at the table for the waiter and took the lead for a second before you grabbed Jonathan’s arms and pushed him against the wall, “I know this is very straight forward but I just can’t continue to deny the fact that you are very attractive right now,” you whispered as you smashed your lips against his.

Bingo.

Jonathan ran his hands down your thigh as you jumped onto him. You wrapped your legs around his waist as you pushed your chest against his. Jonathan started to chuckle as felt you trying to unbutton his pants.

“I can’t help but agree with you,” Jonathan whispered in your ear as he started to play with the hem of your panties, “now how about we make it to your car and we can continue this session in your bedroom,” he continued. You agreed as you jumped off of him and practically dragged him over to your car.

Jonathan just needed to make sure he sent a thank you message over to Edward before the end of the night. His little experiment was now in his hands and he didn’t need to struggle much to achieve it.

[hllywdwhre]

Hoax

Pairing: Jonathan Crane x fem!reader

Summary: You debate leaving your identity as Batgirl behind for a certain villain that has caught your eye.

Warnings: None; let me know if I missed any

Word Count: 641

Notes: Credit to @slut4thebroken for the ‘baby bat’ nickname 🫶🏻 it’s now a favorite trope of mine with Crane

Based on the song ‘hoax’ by Taylor Swift.

My only one

My kingdom come undone

My broken drum

You have beaten my heart

Morals. You couldn’t let yours lapse. Your morals are what caused you to start working with Bruce in the first place, yet every time he called you “Baby Bat”, you felt your heart flutter in a way you knew you shouldn’t.

He was terrorizing the city with a plan to unleash a deadly amount of fear into the streets. It would cause Gotham to fall into something beyond anarchy and the cure would never be ready in enough time for you to stop it. It was terrorism, there was nothing else to describe it.

Yet, here you sat, with him standing in front of you, a look that was equal parts teasing and knowing on his face.

“You can’t ask me to stop being Batgirl, I can’t do it.” Your voice shook as you sat on his bed next to him.

“So your morals stop you from giving up Batgirl, but not from fucking and falling for the Scarecrow?” He asked, the familiar taunting emphasis on his alter ego’s name. The look on his face matched the taunting tone.

“There has to be a middle ground somewhere…” you began, voice desperate, “I won’t help Br- Batman when it comes to Scarecrow’s plots, but I won’t help you with them, either. I stay on the sidelines and only aid him in taking down others,” you offered, trying to come up with something that allowed you to keep Batgirl and Jonathan.

“You know that can’t be done. I work with others and they’re going to work with me,” he pointed out.

You let silence fill the air for your response, and for once, he didn’t fill the air with a know-it-all or sarcastic reply. He allowed your silence to sit.

Weeks later and you were sitting by someone’s side, watching as the city went into chaos.

“And your kingdom crumbles…” Jonathan said in a low voice that was distorted by the mask he wore.

The words sent a pang through your heart, but you ignored it.

“It was going to crumble anyways,” you replied with an equally distorted voice.

“Let’s move,” he told you, grabbing your hand and standing.

You stood up and followed him through one of the many tall buildings that filled Gotham, finding your horses in the lobby of the building, and moving to guide them outside before a third party made their presence known to the two of you.

“I thought it was you… I didn’t want to believe it,” Bruce said, causing you and Jonathan to whip around and look at where he was perched on one of the desks.

“Don’t,” Jonathan warned, his voice even more menacing while it was distorted.

As much as he had mocked you for the way your morals had caused such a…tumultuous beginning to your relationship, he didn’t allow for others to do the same.

“You traded one set of wings for another, and in doing so helped bring the downfall of Gotham,” Bruce said, his eyes behind the Batman mask being trained on you. “From Batgirl to the Sparrow…” he trailed off.

“You always underestimated her,” Jonathan said, stepping slightly in front of you, as if trying to protect you. “Do you understand why it’s now Sparrow?”

Bruce shook his head.

“Because Sparrows are often seen as harmless birds,” Jonathan answered, allowing your hand to rest on his arm as he continued on, “but in many cultures they represent death. That’s what you saw her as when she joined your side. A helper. Not a fighter that could bring more to you. You were afraid to weaponize her, but I saw the other side of her. The one that could be dangerous.”

He saw the side of you Bruce was afraid to weaponize, but he didn’t view it as a weapon. He saw all of you and viewed it as you.

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

GN! TA Reader x Professor Jonathan Crane Headcanons: 

Characters: Jonathan Crane (Scarecrow); Gender Neutral! Reader 

Universe: Nolanverse (Batman Film Trilogy) 

Pairing(s): The beginning of a one-sided Jonathan Crane/Reader, if you squint 

Word Count: 1.6k 

A/N: It’s that time of year when I rewatch the Nolanverse Batman films and obsess over every frame that Cillian Murphy is on screen. (Okay, but he absolutely killed it, and what I wouldn't give to see him counter Robert Pattinson’s Batman.) This combined with reading some other Scarecrow/Reader fics has accumulated into this little plot bunny of my own. And yes, while I say these are headcanons, it’s more like extended fic. I truly tried to keep it short but, much like Dickens and Hemingway cannot seem to help myself when it comes to writing extended sentences. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

ALSO— in answer to the question you’re no doubt wondering—Yes! Answers to submitted asks will return after this deviation. I’ve just had this character circling in my head the past few days and I couldn’t get him out. 

TW!: Slight Manipulative/Yandere (by Crane, but nothing explicit); Also, please beware the formatting gets more unhinged/distracting as you read on, so if you have tracking issues or sensitive eyes, please be wary

Catching Professor Crane’s Attention Would Look Like: 

You were a great student, (obviously!), one the brightest and most dedicated in his class for you to be his TA. 

At first, Professor Crane found your enthusiasm and attentiveness annoying. He pegged you for yet another professional student brownnoser failing to get on his good side. 

Most of his TA’s enthusiasm eventually fizzled out once they realized flattery would get them no further in his gradebook. That, and his more advanced courses were incredibly demanding— they took a decent chunk of any student’s time and energy. 

Much to his surprise, not only did your cheery demeanor fail to vanish, but you somehow stayed on top of every bit of work he assigned. On top of which, you excelled in your role as Teacher’s Assistant, practically teaching half of the lessons when he was too busy with his, let’s just say, other proclivities, to make it to lecture on time.  

Jonathan was impressed when he learned you’ve spent nearly every spare moment you had in his official lab’s research library, reading through all of his previous labs’ notes and official documentation. He didn’t allow students, not even students of the Psychology Department, to make Xerox copies or check out his work— it was only available for temporary reading and viewing within the confines of his dedicated lab space.

He caught a glimpse of your notebook one day, having actually made it on time to be able to teach his lecture, seeing how meticulously you’ve copied down his experiments’ notes. In the past, only his most advanced students bothered to take notes on his previous work, and at best, they’d simply record the abstracts from his many published theses. 

He should have found it alarming, as opposed to intriguing. If one was to truly study his notes, they’d find vague little inconsistencies across his verbiage from where he was forced to omit information to cover his tracks. A smart enough person might be able to piece together that something else had been his true point of study in his experiments, and that meant having to dazzle the university board with bullshit and bribery once again. He had to take care of you and neutralize the threat before that happened. 

He should have felt resigned, indifferent to the unavoidable fate you’d just sealed for yourself. Instead, he wanted you to continue; he wanted to poke and prod you as you tried to figure it out. Observing you had turned into an utterly fascinating pastime to him.

He spoke to you after class one evening and enquired as to why you felt compelled to copy his exact notes down. Did you perhaps intend to parrot his findings as your own? Was this an ill-advised attempt at plagiarism? He comes off as cross, perhaps harsh, in his line of questioning, but he desperately needed to know how you’d respond to such an interrogative line of questioning. 

The question of ‘Why?’ had been gnawing at his psyche for days, even during his newfound dealings with Falcone and his thugs, and that simply would not do. He could not get distracted by some suck-up student. His work on secretly developing the most stable version of his toxic compound all while flying under the radar of his nosy, stupid University higher-ups was much more important than the mental inner workings of some lowly college student. His intrigue slowly turned to anger.

After you tell him you’re more fascinated by “the why of the why”— all his ruminations stop cold. You weren’t flustered, weren’t defensive, weren’t sniveling and begging for his forgiveness like the ones who have come before you, oh no. Instead, you met his gaze directly and answered his question with what sounded like a riddle. Your evasive answer officially moved the dial and Crane’s intrigue became replaced with disdain. 

How dare you?! Do you think your measly intellect could ever stump him? It would be almost laughable if it didn’t make his jaw clench and his nostrils flare. But Crane is nothing if not a control freak. So he did what any wise control freak would do, and decided to change the setting of the fight back to his familiar home turf. 

“I see.” Professor Dr. Crane kept his answers curt and restrained as per his usual. “I must admit you’d be the first student applying such a subjective angle to your thesis all while using a rather definitive lens. We should discuss your topic in depth before you waste any more time writing potentially unobjective garbage. Office Hours are posted on my door. I expect to see you before our lecture next week.” 

You were in your last year of University, with a declared double major in Psychology and Biochemistry, with a minor in Creative Writing of all things. By this time, you had undoubtedly outlined the controls for your upcoming psychological lab requirement for your Advanced Independent Study next semester. Of course, an Advanced Independent Study requirement for a Psychology Major was nothing compared to those seeking a Doctorate or Ph.D. However, it still involved a substantial amount of clinical time spent organizing and studying volunteers from your academic peers. 

If his work on fear and fear stimulation hormones was a similar area of interest, it could prove bothersome. If your… experiment was similar enough in nature, and it failed to yield similar results, it might encourage the University Board to take a closer look at his synthesized “fear hormone”. The morons on the board had accepted his previous explanation of whatever pharmaceutical mumbo-jumbo he’d thrown at them. A little cortisol here, a little adrenaline there… And those fools had bought it hook line and sinker! 

You arrived at his office the next morning, your usual bright and shiny self. Of course, you had signed up for the first available slot the following day, and of course, you showed up with even more coffee and donuts in hand. 

If you were anyone else, Dr. Crane would feel insulted that you thought you could quite literally sugar him up. But judging from the sincere look on your face to the way your own eyes lit up when he accepted the coffee, made him think bribery was the last thing on your agenda. It unnerved him how he failed to find an ulterior, more insidious motive within you. 

You explained that in your class lectures, you recalled Dr. Professor Crane had spoken about the major causes of fear, as well as its evolutionary purpose. You couldn't help but wonder, in the modern day and age, when humans were no longer nomads, no longer living in pre-industrial conditions, if that evolutionary aspect of fear hurt more than it helped. 

Your lab proposal went as followed: You wished to pool a large group of students, determine what their primary and secondary greatest fears were, and then, through a series of pre-set further questions, see if you could catalog how many such fears either 1) helped the individual���s behavior, or 2) merely hindered it. 

Jonathan found it a modest proposal, for your grade level anyway. And it would serve as a good taste of what working in either a clinical or research setting would look like after furthering your education and licensing accreditation. 

Unable to stop ruminating over the personal reasons as to why you found this fascinating, his obsessive nature prevented him from striking your proposal down. ‘What could be the harm?’ He asked himself after giving your study outline his official approval. You were nowhere near his intelligence level. Even with all your scribbling and copying of his notes, it was unlikely you’d ever uncover his plot. Besides, should push come to shove, all he’d need to do was ask Falcone for a favor, have you bumped off before things started to get too involved, too messy… 

But a little mess? A little chaos? The idea sent a chill down Crane’s spine. It was the thrill of the chase, the inevitable mouse and cat, predator and prey dynamics that drove him to master the power of fear for himself. It was that addictive rush of adrenaline— the way it stroked his well-deserving ego— the way his victims screamed and cried and begged for mercy before him. 

Crane wasn’t oblivious as to why he relished such power. He was a psychologist after all. The doctor was well aware that childhood trauma was a powerful thing, an unstoppable perimeter in what made people tick. Professor Doctor Crane knew that he was rotten, yes— vile, at his core. It was that exact rot that enabled him not to care. 

Fear was the ultimate equalizer, it was the ultimate revenge. No one, not even himself could ever truly escape it, not entirely anyway. No amount of toxin tolerance or cognitive behavioral therapy, medication, or meditation could stop the chokehold fear had on all human beings. 

It seemed you knew that too… Why else would you have as much of a fascination with it? Why else would you scour his notes so intently? It was rather ironic, Jonathan thought to himself, one night, hidden deep in his basement Arkham Asylum Lab: it seemed fear ruled you just as much as it ruled him. 

Perhaps, with the right persuasion, and the right exposure, you would be open to exploring greater boundaries and experimenting with fear. 

Not once prior had Jonathan ever considered acquiring an assistant— someone to work on his toxin with. It was far too risky to have such little benefit. Everyone was far too stupid, too simple to realize the true greatness of what he was working on, the true greatness that Ra's al Ghul would help him release upon Gotham, and soon, the world. But you…. hmm. 

You— he would have to keep a closer eye on. 

A/N 2.0: Whoo! There you have it! My first official DC fandom post!

And if you enjoyed it, *Sabrina Carpenter voice* please, please, please REBLOG! Likes are great but Reblogs spread my writing much further.

Consider Tipping Me Via Kofi <3

[myveryownfanfiction]

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

warnings: swearing, mention of scarecrows fear serum

tags: @illiana-mystery, @eclecticwildflowers

Knocking on the apartment door, I hugged my jacket tighter. The small box at my feet reminded me of why I was here. The door opened after the series of locks were undone.

“(Y/N)?” His voice was soothing, even when curiosity got the better of him.

“I didn’t know where else to go.” I said with a shrug. Johnathan looked down where I kicked the box. “Got fired today.” I gave him a weak smile as he bent over to grab the box. His piercing blue eyes met mine and I swore they hardened.

“well that’s shit.” He mumbled as he ushered me into the apartment. “What are you going to do?” Johnathan put the box on his end table and sat down across from me on the coffee table.

“I don’t know.” I admitted. I had told everyone at the office that I was going to be alright. I had everything planned out. But it was a lie. “Thought I’d come here. Only place I felt safe going. Only place I didn’t feel like a failure at.” Johnathan sighed before moving to sit next to me on the couch. He wrapped his arm around me, pulling me into him and kissing my head.

“you’re not a failure.” Johnathan assured me. “If I didn’t know any better, you went out with a fight. Kicking and screaming.” I nodded against him. “Then you have nothing to feel like a failure for. It’s their own fault. People were leaving like fucking rats on a sinking ship.” Sighing, I curled further into him.

“that’s definitely an accurate depiction.” I agreed. Johnathan nodded before kissing my head again.

“least you were smart. Now someone owes you money.” He said with a smile. I nodded mournfully. “You wanna stay here?” Johnathan asked after a minute.

“if it’s alright with you.” I whispered. Johnathan tilted my head up and kissed me.

“of course it’s alright with me.” He assured me. “Just don’t go into the office. Have a little excitement going on in there.” His eyes flashed and I nodded. “I think I found my next test subject.”

“Johnathan…” I warned. He shot me a small smile.

“What? I never said who.” His smile grew a little and I rolled my eyes, draping my arm across his stomach.

“just be careful.” I whispered. He kissed my head again.

“always am.” Johnathan said, eyes flicking to the case by the door that held his mask. “Always am.”

[vaporwavebeach-writes]

Kinktober Day 5 (Collaring)

BTAA Scarecrow x Reader (NSFW)

(1,522 Words)

Summary: There’s a kill collar around your neck

Warnings/Tags: 18+, gender neutral reader, tied to a chair, collaring, fear play, a little bit of psychoanalysis, light knife play, dom/sub dynamic

Notes: Ok, now this one was just TOO FUN to write LMAO, u can read this as a continuation to this or as a stand alone, either way, enjoy the fic!!!

-

An abrupt chill dances up your neck, waking you to your surroundings. Eyes opening groggily, you awaken to thick, rough twine digging into your wrists and ankles, keeping you tied to the arms and legs of a wooden chair.

You try to look around, but you feel something heavy and metal around your neck. It’s when you hear the beeping of a heart monitor when you realize exactly what it is.

“Good morning, sunshine.” You look up in front of you to see the Scarecrow, leaning his hands back on the table behind him, standing with his leg crossed casually. His voice is his usual brand of eerily cheerful. Amusing, but terrifying to be on the other end of, as you have seen by working for him for a while, but unfortunately, you weren’t so lucky this time.

The collar begins to beep slightly faster, hardly noticeable, but your boss, Scarecrow- Dr. Jonathan Crane, he seems to pick up on your nerves easily. Behind his raggedy, burlap mask, you can see the stirrings of morbid excitement as he cocks his head playfully.

“No need to be nervous,” He says nonchalantly. He leans back further, sitting on the table. “You know the drill by now.”

You begin to wonder what you could’ve possibly done to end up to be the next victim of one of the Scarecrow’s infamous kill collars. “I’m going to die, aren’t I?” You ask bluntly.

“Oh! Right to the point,” he chuckles. “Well,” he clears his throat, “It all depends on you- Don’t get scared, and you get to keep your head.”

You roll your eyes, hearing his spiel dozens of times already. “Yeah, yeah- Got it, like you said, I know the drill.”

The Scarecrow gets up, stalking ever so close to you. You feel his cold hand find its way under your chin, tilting up your head to look deep into his gaze. You’ve seen him do this several times, you know this is just an intimidation tactic to toy with his victims.

“So what did it?” You begin, unfazed by his potent glare. “Was it the fact that I knew too much about what was really going on here? Or was it when I reduced you to nothing but a quivering mess when I caught you fucking yourself to the thought of me?”

He lets out a low chuckle, placing a hand on your shoulder, circling around you menacingly. “You could say that.”

“To which one?”

“Oh, I don’t think it really matters too much,” he stops behind you, “…What matters…” You feel your feet come off the floor as he tilts back the chair, “…Is that we need to make an example out of you,” he darkly murmurs in your ear. You let out an involuntary yelp as the chair is suddenly pushed forward.

The kill collar starts to beep slightly quicker now, but it was getting harder to tell if your heart was picking up due to fear, or arousal. Either way, you refuse to let whatever emotions you’re currently feeling be the death of you. Taking a deep breath, you attempt to stabilize your breathing, which the Scarecrow notes aloud.

“Breathing techniques, huh? You must’ve been paying attention to all those times you’ve seen me collar someone. Why? Did you see yourself ending up in a situation like this? Did you try to prepare just in case you did?”

“I learned from the best,” you sigh sarcastically.

“Aw,” he chuckles, “You know, complimenting me won’t get you out of this…” Crane fishes around the inner pocket of his jacket. He makes his way around you once again as the glint of his switchblade is caught in your peripheral vision. “Now answer the question,” The blade is held directly to your chest. “Please.”

“Alright,” You gulp, the beeping of the collar stays consistent. “Yeah, I did think this is how things would end, but you know what?”

“What is it, little lamb?”

“The fact that you have me here, like this, means that I’ve gotten close.”

Crane leans over the back of the chair, cocking his head to meet your eyes. “I’m not sure I follow.”

“I learned some real nasty secrets about your experiments with using JoyCure, an unauthorized drug, on your patients,” you explain, “and, I had you completely spineless for me, the fact that you have me collared here, means you’re afraid. You’re afraid that I know too much about you, criminally and personally, so you have me here to not only kill me, but to kill the fear of knowing about the leverage I have on you.”

You look him dead in the eyes as you make your case, showing him that you are not afraid and refuse to be afraid, no matter how much he tries to make you believe it. You almost forget he still has the blade to your chest until you feel the cold metal trail down and eventually off your flesh.

A low, bubbling, snicker sounds in the warehouse. “My, my,” whispers Crane, awestruck. He toys with the switchblade, fiddling with it in his hands. “Now look who’s playing psychiatrist.” His low snicker erupts into an uproarious laugh, like a hyena. “Oh wow, that is an interesting theory to say the least, and you do make a very promising point,” his voice is directly behind you now. “I can see how you’re trying to flip the dynamic here, thinking you have some control, but unfortunately…” his hands find their way to your shoulders, pinning you to the back of the chair. You hear a sadistic hiss in your ear. “…You’re wrong.”

The air of his breath tickles the side of your neck. Hearing the flick of the switchblade snapping open, the knife is held to your chest once again. However, the knife continues to slide down your uniform- a simple jumpsuit to protect yourself from any chemicals from his fear toxin that may be lingering around the warehouse. The fabric tears and you are left vulnerable, opened up with your underwear exposed. You don’t say a word, but the collar’s heart monitor audibly speeds up.

“There it is…” he whirls around, admiring your exposed flesh- your exposed emotions. “There’s that fear I’ve been so longing to see.” Behind his mask, you could tell he was grinning sadistically. Attempting to keep standing your ground, you keep your head held high as the Scarecrow prowls over to you. “Or, wait a second… maybe, it’s not fear.”

Oh shit.

“Hmmm,” he ponders aloud, “it’s very hard to tell with you.” He claps his hands, throwing his head back. “Well!” his head comes back, the eyes behind his mask eye you up carnally. “There’s always solutions that we can test to distinguish which response is which.” At this point, he’s doing it just to mess with you. Prowling behind the chair, he leans forward, directly to your ear. “…I am a man of science, you know.”

His cold hand drops to your chest. He feels up every inch of your exposed body. Shuddering, his fingers find their way to your undershirt, sliding between the fabric and teasing your nipples. A restrained moan exits your mouth as lightly pinches them.

“Interesting response,” he purrs “someone who is feeling fear wouldn’t have that reaction, so obviously, you’re feeling frustrated…” He lets go of your nipples, flicking his thumb over them. “…Sexually.” You hardly notice that the collar’s beeping sounds faster this time.

“It’s fascinating,” he continues “how fear and arousal are so similar.” His hands finally make their way to your inner thighs, caressing them, teasing. “Heavy breathing…” He drags his hand across your underwear. “Adrenaline, pumping…” His hand finally slips into your underwear, you jump when he finally glides his fingers over your sex, “…Heart, racing.” The beeping of the kill collar continues to ring out.

Gathering the arousal that drips out of your aching sex, Crane applies more pressure and friction against the spot that makes you squirm. He fucks you with his skilled fingers. You breathe out amorously, not giving a shit about the kill collar, which rapidly increases in its beeping, sealing your fate as you come violently.

When you come down from your euphoric high, you realize your head is still on your body. You’re alive. Breathing heavily, you turn your head as best you can, confused, facing the deranged psychiatrist, who lets out an amused chuckle.

“Oh yeah, forgot to mention,” Crane makes his way over back to the table, leaning back casually, soaking in your disheveled state. “That kill collar? It’s a fake.”

Flicking open the switchblade, Jonathan makes his way over to you, using it to unscrew the heavy, metal collar which unclamps from your neck immediately. You feel the sweet relief of being able to move your neck once again, only for the Scarecrow to take your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look at him.

His eyes bore into yours deeply. “I needed you to know how easily I can make you squirm.” His voice drips with sadistic venom. “This was just to show you who really has control here.”

[look-at-the-soul]

A better man

Jonathan Crane x reader

Anon request- hey lovely anon! I’m sorry this took me an eternity to write! But I was panicked to write and not match your expectations as Jonathan is a super complex character and I knew nothing about waltz dancing (but I started to read about it and the story “came to me” by itself…) -if that makes any sense ☺️ anyways, I hope you like this, again sorry for the delay, but hey better late than never right? Please let me know if you read this! 🥰✨

A/N: Dr Crane a bit out of character

Jonathan took a deep breath as the lights went down and the silence filled the room.

“Everything will be alright, darling.” Y/N murmured caressing his face.

And for a moment, he allowed himself to believe her words.

Opening his eyes, he was able to find hers, offering the same comfort she gave him when they first met one day, under ordinary circumstances, he had been dealing with a lot of stress at the Arkham asylum to the point he was about to explode.

The little patience he had, reaching the limit he could tolerate.

But Y/N showed up in his life unexpectedly and even though he was skeptic at first, he ended up warming completely into her, she was adorable and it was impossible to say no to her. The only person who actually made him smile.

That’s how he ended taking waltz classes on Wednesday nights for the last months.

But to Y/N that wasn’t enough, and as their relationship blossomed and he learned not only the main steps of the elegant dance, but the proper terms as well and that’s how he ended up accepting join Y/N in this waltz competition. It was her dream and he was eagerly willing to do anything for her.

Nobody would ever believe how much this woman had changed him to the point of he being standing up in a salon with a huge chandelier, wearing a tuxedo, hair completely combed back. He felt like a penguin.

This was totally unlike anything he would do, but to his own surprise as the salon’s lights illuminated every corner he felt sure of himself.

Bowing down to Y/N Jonathan was lost in her elegant pose, ready to dance waltz with him.

His feet started to move to the beat of the music and they started floating around. His fears and embarrassment long forgotten now, that was one of the things he learned while dancing, in that moment nothing else matters.

Jonathan was transported back in time, to the day he danced with her for the first time, he loved the way his hand felt on her back, the way her perfume was filling his nostrils, her warm palm resting on his shoulder as she let him guide the steps.

Now, back in present time, despite being in a room fool of people, he could only focus on her as they both twirled around, the skirt of her dress hitting his legs as he spun her. Long strides to move from one side to another, swaying from left to right, but he remembered the rules carefully; his feet must touch the floor at all times.

She moved gracefully, with her long neck on display, allowing him to set the pace. The earrings he gifted her -a pair of small pearls surrounded with tiny diamonds- caught the light and sparkled.

They stopped moving and Y/N leaned back one of her legs, throwing her head to look at the judges.

Taking a step back, he felt his foot sliding back, next to his right one and then he moved sideways, Y/N matching his every move.

As the high notes of the music started to subside, Jonathan held Y/N firmly by the waist as she took impulse to jump, his arms were burning as he held her above his head in the air, time stopping, he could feel his heart drumming in his ears. Slowly he helped her down.

The audience erupted in applause and cheering, but he could only Y/N’s arms around his neck, her smile against his skin and her finger intertwined with his.

As they walked backstage he felt so grateful because Y/N not only understood him, she gave him her support in everything and little by little she made him life better, made him want to be a better man. Through the dance practice, every Friday when she cooked that pasta for dinner.

“We did it!” She jumped on him excitedly, wrapping her legs around his waist.

“You were amazing.” He praised with a huge smile.

“That’s because I’ve the best partner, both in life and dance.”

As they were pulled by a sea of people to congratulate them, he realized he could care less about the results of the competition, because he already had everything he could ask for.

Dance, any type involved a huge intimacy, it allowed him to express a lot through the movements, bodies touching, quick glances, trusting your partner to guide and hold you… exactly as it is in life. Giving in completely into the feeling of calmness while dancing.

And he wanted to keep doing it over and over with Y/N.

****

Jonathan master list

A/N: I enjoyed reading and watching of videos of waltz so so much! I’m always up for a challenge and this surely was… if you want me to change you from the ‘everything list’ let me know

Tag list: @lyarr24 @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @mrkdvidal1989 @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @cilliansangel @adaydreamaway08

[dragoneye01]

Under My Skin (Jonathan Crane x Reader)

Word Count: 1,222

Summary: Everyone gets under Jonathan Crane's skin, even the one he likes the most. But you're different.

It was easy to get under Jonathan Crane’s skin. Most people were annoying, picky, and irked him. They got under his skin, but you.  .  . you were different. Oh yes, you did get under his skin. You asked a lot of questions, too many questions. You talked too much about too many things. If he didn’t know you to be an English Literature teacher, he would’ve taken you for a scientist or a philosopher. Your knowledge of the natural world was astounding, along with your takes on the human psyche. It was like a special interest to you, especially the effects of certain fungi on the brain. You were fascinated by the mushroom that controlled creatures, the fungus that moved creatures to its own will. 

Jonathan Crane, for the longest time, thought that you knew about his secret identity, especially after he was let go from Gotham University over shooting a gun off in class. 

“That was you? I thought it had been an overactive student.” You commented when the two of you had met for coffee after the incident. He had just taken up his mantle as The Scarecrow and was on edge, wondering if you KNEW. 

“I’m afraid the students did not appreciate my demonstration and thus I was fired. No one appreciates a good lecture anymore.” Jonathan huffed. 

“No, students are changing. Entitled little brats.” You scoffed. “Did I tell you about the class discussion where I couldn’t dock a student points for being a bigot because of the school’s policy? I wanted to expel this student from my class, but the dean insisted it’d be discriminatory against their beliefs, even though said beliefs were bigoted! Can you believe it? I should just quit school and create a life of crime.” You laughed. 

Jonathan laughed nervously. 

“Yes, a life of crime. And what would you do?” He asked, carefully. 

“Hmm.  .  . maybe I’d perfect an experiment on fungi that can take control of their host, controlling others into doing my bidding. I could release a toxin or cultivate it in a public space so that I could use others to steal money for me. Collecting books is an expensive hobby.” A smile broke out on your face. At that Jonathan could agree. 

And that’s where he found himself now. Using his fear toxin he broke into the Gotham University Library, into the old and interesting section. There were many books there of interest, but he only had eyes for one. It was a story collection from the mid-nineteenth century that centered on gothic fairy tales. Haunting and eerie tales that were beloved to many. You had a soft spot for this collection, so much so that he made sure to wear gloves when handling it. Stealing it was easy. Why keep this book hidden away in a library full of ungrateful people? That was his reasoning. You would love and cherish this book. Display it, keep it out of direct sunlight, find pride in it. 

Jonathan had invited you over to his apartment to share a cup of tea or coffee when he showed you the book. He handed you a pair of soft, cloth gloves and then bestowed the book to you. This was the moment of truth. Would you know who he was? The theft wasn’t in the news. Who would report on one stolen library book? But would you understand how he got it? Would you see his well-kept secret? Would you accept him for who he had become? 

You held the book reverently, easily identifying it as the one from the Gotham University Library. Softly, you whispered, “Jonathan, how did you get this?” 

Jonathan had left the room for a moment to get your cups after the tea had finished steeping. “Oh, don’t you know? I’ve begun a life of crime now and stealing books is my goal.” He said as sarcastically as possible. 

“You’re not lying.” You spoke. Jonathan stared at you, heart skipping a bit. “You have a tell when you’re lying. It’s like you slip, from the years of academia, and you get a twang to your voice. You’re not lying this time. You really did it, didn’t you? I heard rumors at the University about you, ya know? That you had.  .  .”

“That I had what?” He asked quietly, holding the cups of tea. You sat on his sofa with the book held to your chest, eyes open so wide. 

“They call you the Scarecrow now, don’t they?” It was barely above a whisper. 

“That they do, my dear.” Jonathan stared at you intently. 

“And you stole a book for me?” 

“It would appear so.” 

“A favorite of mine. What did you do to get it?” You asked curiously. Jonathan still held the cups, standing in the doorway. 

“I have created a fear toxin and I used it to scare the security guards senseless, letting me sneak in to take the book. It was such a small theft that it wasn’t reported. Can you imagine? That University admitting that someone so easily came in and took what they wanted? They’d never admit to it.” He noticed a look on your face, a look of curiosity. A look of interest. 

“Is it bad that I’m not scared?” 

“Did you know beforehand?” He asked. 

“I guessed.  .  . you know, with how you managed to still live decently after being let go. You seemed to be enraptured in something, but I never could guess what it was. But now.  .  . this is everything. You’re the Scarecrow! The King of Fear!” You laughed loudly, setting the book on the coffee table. Standing up, you walked over to the doorway and took your cup of tea. Jonathan watched your every move. 

“Are you scared?” 

“Should I be?” You asked, breathlessly. 

“Only if you want to be.” You both stood so closely together, taking up space in the doorway. He took a chance. Jonathan reached out a hand and cupped your face, running his thumb over your cheekbone. He leaned in for a chaste kiss, honestly surprised when you didn’t pull away. You pressed your lips to his and then pulled away before he could ask for more. 

“The tea will get cold.” You smiled. 

“That’s true.” He nodded. 

“Would you read to me?” 

“Read to you?” 

“Yes, out of the book. I’d like it if you read one of the stories to me.” You walked over to the sofa again. Jonathan sat with you, knees touching. With gloves on, he picked the book up, flipping it open to a random story. You leaned into his shoulder, listening to the drawl of his words. As he read, his southern accent came out, making the words drip like honey. Jonathan’s eyes scanned the pages, occasionally glancing at you. He never wanted this moment to end. But every story had to have an ending. 

“I almost wish the tale didn’t have to end.” He commented when you finished the gothic retelling of Red Riding Hood. 

“You could always steal me another book and we could keep doing this.” He liked that little smirk that came on your face. “We could have our own personal library. You read me a story. I read you a story. It doesn’t have to end with this.” 

“Oh, my dear, it’s just beginning.” Jonathan smiled, carefully shutting the book.

[scorpiussage]

NSFW Alphabet - Johnathan Crane (Scarecrow) 

- I’m not much of a DC fan so this is entirely based off the Nolan movies and what we see of Cillian Murphy’s Scarecrow 

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Not an aftercare man at all. For real, you’d be lucky if he stayed in bed next to you after he’s done fucking you - he’s busy and got things to do and places to be. 

But, I think that if you caught him at a vulnerable moment (Scarecrow giving him extra grief or him struggling with the Batman) he might indulge in some cuddling but it would be very short lived and he’d expect you to never bring it up again.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Loves someone with a brilliant mind, body doesn’t matter to him at all. He just wants someone who’s crazy matches his crazy. 

He’s literally so vain though, like he will not leave the house unless he looks perfect and put together. 

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

He doesn’t really have much of a preference to where he cums, just that he does. Most of the time it’ll be in you but he has been known to like to finish on your face from time to time. 

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Scarecrow is obv his big secret, but I think that if he took the time to pursue a relationship with you, it would be because both him and Scarecrow are attracted to you. So that might be a dirty secret of his, that he likes to let the other guy take control some times so that he can get his quality time in with you too.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Not very experienced, he’s always been a huge dork and also very career driven so he’s never put any time into having sex. That said, he’s incredibly knowledgeable about the human body so even though he’s not very experienced, he knows all the best places to touch you.

F = Favourite Position (idk the names of any sex positions so Im just going try and describe them)

Johnathan is a massive control freak and so his favorite positions are all ones that put him in control of you. You on your knees with your face pressed into the mattress and your hands tied behind your back is a particular favorite of his. 

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

He is literally not capable of being goofy and silly. It’s just not who he is. So sex will always be incredibly intense and serious.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Not very intimate nor romantic (though he could be if he wanted to, he just doesn’t want to) 

Don’t get it twisted though, he’s possessive and even though he may not show his affections like other people, you belong to him and he’ll remind you of it regularly. 

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Doesn’t masturbate beyond getting excess energy out. He’s not got the time for that.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

He’s got a huge doctor/patient kink to the point he’d convince you to get admitted to Arkham so that he could be your doctor and “give you treatments” 😉 

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

His office at Arkham or whatever seedy warehouse he’s using that week, he’s not picky.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Control and fear are pretty obvious motivators for him. 

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything church or religion related is a big yikes to him. 

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He will only give you head if it means a new way to dominate and control you into doing something he wants. That’s just sort of his personality. 

He’s personally pretty eh about receiving. It feels good and makes him cum, but he could also get that from fucking you so it’s not a necessity.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Not slow or fast so much as brutal and intense. Getting fucked by Johnathan is absolutely world ending and also too much. You’ll only be able to handle one round at a time from him. 

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He’s not one for quickies usually just because he’s very work focused and you absolutely will not tear him away from whatever new thing he’s doing. He has allotted time set aside to fuck you and he will not do it outside of that time.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He loves taking risks, it’s sort of his whole thing because there’s a tie in to fear. You have to be someone who will go along with whatever he wants because if you don’t, he’ll get bored with you very fast.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Average stamina. He could probably do sexathons but he doesn’t have the time for that, his experiments take priority. 

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He doesn’t own toys personally but if you own them, he’ll for sure use them on you regularly. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Nothing would turn him on more than teasing you to the point of tears. He’s an absolute sadist about that and he’s unapologetic about it too. 

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Not loud, actually very quiet but when Scarecrow is in the drivers seat, he does a lot of dirty talk. 

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

He’s the kind of man who loves one and only one. So if you start a relationship with him, there’s no ending that relationship, you’re his forever. 

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Long and average width. Cock size doesn’t matter with a guy like this, he’ll make you cum regardless. 

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Pretty low sex drive, he’s not really someone who spends a lot of time thinking about sex. 

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He doesn’t sleep until he’s certain he’s in a safe location. So unless you do it at his place, he’s not one to fuck and then immediately fall asleep. 

[madame-fear]

HIII

HELLO, I love your blog, your stories make me smile. um um feel free to ignore but i wanted to ask gotham! jonathan and DK! Jonathan, cheering on his partner on his birthday POSTSCRIPT: Yesterday was my birthday XD, another thing, English is not my native language, SO I'M SORRY FOR THE SPELLING MISTAKES

— a/n : hello love !! Happy late Birthday darling!! 🥳❤ AHJDJDK no worries for English cause it's not my native tongue as well! hope u enjoy this ♡

♡ Gotham! Jonathan : ♡

• Our boy will literally immerse you with love. His arms would be tightly wrapped around your waist, and would kiss you happily all over your face.

• The second you wake up on your birthday, he will already be leaving you breathless as he tightly hugs you, and showers you in love; plus, gives you tons of jolly birthday wishes.

• Will literally bring breakfast to bed and will also show up with a bouquet of roses he had brought for you the day before and kept hidden so you wouldn't spoil one of his surprises!

• Probably will let the J Squad and/or the Legion know about your birthday so they can celebrate it with you, if you wish. Or simply, give you gifts... or even help him with gifting ideas. Honestly it's probably that he would call the J Squad + the Legion only so they can give him ideas for your birthday. 🥲

• Will literally take you ANYWHERE you wish. Out for a walk in the park, out for a coffee birthday date, to the shopping mall, etc. And also, will spoil you to no end by buying you whatever thing he sees fit for you, and thinks you'll like! No 'buts' allowed.

“babe, what do you think about this? Do you like it?” “yeah, it seems pretty ni–” “SAY NO MORE. I'll buy it for you!”

• After you come home from nearly being all day out exploring the city for your birthday, he will run a warm, bubbly bath while he sets everything up for a perfect birthday night.

• Jonathan will even prepare your favourite food for you! Which is unusual, since he prefers having you cooking – but oh well, it's your special day.

• ^ Also, he'd prepare your favourite dessert, and will prepare some comfy clothing on top of your bed so you can change into that. Plus, he will prepare some good movie nights for both of you!

• After dinner and shortly before dessert, he will take out every hidden gift he had for you! Each one has a special little note for you, and he will be clinging by your side with a glint of excitement to see how you'll react to it.

• Pretty much will have you spoiled all day long, and will treat you like an absolute ✨ Queen ✨

♡ DK! Jonathan : ♡

• Unlike Gotham! Crane, he's not as expressive or clingy with his love. But, of course, that doesn't mean he doesn't have his ways of showing his beloved that he loves you!

• Even if he's a busy man, he will have someone replace him on his work only to spend more time with you. Literally.

• The first thing you'll see, is a little note with a bunch of hearts surrounding it, greeting you a good morning and a joyful birthday, and that he's on the kitchen preparing breakfast for both of you.

• When you go downstairs to the kitchen, you'll find the whole house set up for your birthday; with balloons of your favourite colours, a bouquet of flowers, general birthday decorations, and all the gifts on top of the living table.

“happy birthday, my love. i hope all your wishes come true, and that you have a joyful birthday, sweet darling.”

• DK! Crane will make you open all the gifts he proudly chose for you all for himself, based on all the knowledge he has on your likings. And, even if he won't show it... he lives for your happiness and the way you praise him when he does/gives you something you absolutely ADORE.

• It may be books, dresses, jewellery... whatever you most desire, he got it! And you're satisfied! (and so he is at your overjoyed reaction).

• Our man will also make you use your best clothing, as he reserved a special spot on your favourite place as to take you out for your birthday, and spend the evening there, together.

• And after you go back home, he will proudly keep spoiling by making a hot chocolate for you, plus he would bring you a small birthday cake of your favourite flavour while he sings "Happy Birthday".

• CUDDLING NIGHT WITH HIM WHILE YOU SHARE CAKE AND HOT CHOCOLATES!!!

• Our Jonathan will make sure he gives you the most special day ever, pampered, and happy. ♡

[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.

[finniestoncrane]

General!Scarecrow x Villain!Fem!Reader, word count: 2k commission: jonathan and his assistant have their first dangerous encounter with batman, and the adrenaline inspires him to set aside his need to protect her with his other desires...🎃🧡 commission me here! request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: public sex, exhibitionism

The chase was intense. The work even more so. In a strange and unusually lenient move, Jonathan had decided that your first outing as his assistant, his partner in crime, would be one of the more dangerous ones. You had long since realised that his feelings towards you extended far beyond passive interest, and thinly veiled sexual attraction. He cared about you, and would go to great lengths to ensure your safety. But, in a twist you hadn’t seen coming, he was willing to let you stand beside him, testing his newest batch of toxin. Quicker to take it’s hold over the potential victims, deeper fears exposed and utilised to bring Gotham to its knees.

He was impressed by you, you could tell as much. He’d called your method of spreading the toxin, through the air, swooping over the already terrified crowds, admirable and genius. Always quick with a compliment. But as beautiful as you looked, as majestic and ethereal, somehow not quite possible even, you were as you flew over the city, it was a far more obvious affair than they had planned. And before they knew it, the Bat was on their heels.

Luckily, escape was Jonathan’s forte. Either in mind, from emotions and painful memories, or in life, from Arkham, from imprisonment, and from the determined clutches of the Batman. He had no intentions of being caught this time, not when his work was becoming so interesting. And not when he had found someone worth staying free for. You were everything to him, and, somehow too late now that capture was imminent, he was realising it.

In a bid to keep you save, a last ditch attempt at maintaining his freedom and continuing his, their, important experiments, he grabbed your arm and pulled you on foot through the alleys, making his way expertly and surprisingly quickly, to the broken back door of an abandoned building. They ran to the stairs together, aware that there were only seconds between them and Batman, between escaping and being separated, sent away. But as they burst forth from the rooftop access, they realised that there was no one chasing them anymore. No thudding footsteps behind them. They had done it. They had escaped.

The thrill, it was exhilarating. To be so close to inevitability and then to evade it. It was all you had wanted, all you had imagined it would be. You braced yourself, hands on your knees as you panted, before you stood up, holding back an adrenaline fuelled scream. Instead, you spoke softly, still aware of your surroundings and the possibility of Batman hearing them and locating them.

“That was… that was amazing! I know you don’t usually like to exert any enthusiasm on the job, and I know that’s all this is, a job… but that was just so freeing. It was just… just so…”

Noticing that he was being oddly silent, even for him, you turned to him, still panting from the exertion of energy and the sweeping adrenaline that coursed through your veins, but laughing in excitement. With a soft giggle, you managed to squeeze out a word between breaths.

“What?”

As he faced you completely, your smile fell as you noticed he was staring, emotionless, neutral and calm.

“What?”

There was no answer, just his eyes, boring into your soul. You could see something flickering beyond them, deep within his pupils, but it was impossible to tell, to read his emotions.

“Ok, Jonathan… you’re scaring me now. What’s wrong? Are you no-”

On a sharp intake, you swallowed the breath, your words and flow interrupted as Jonathan grabbed your forearms, pulling you into a deep kiss that knocked you back, brain blank as you adjusted to his grip. While you found the capacity to kiss him back, leaning into his lips as he moaned soft and low at the reciprocation, Jonathan’s grasp loosened, his fingers beginning to stroke against the sleeves of your costume, teasing at it to pull it away from you, to touch your smooth, warm skin beneath.

Feeling more desperate, keener to touch you with every passing second, he leant into the embrace, knocking you back against the wall of the rooftop access. His kisses sloppily trailed from your mouth to your chin, along your jaw and to your neck. Strands of saliva followed, coating your skin, glistening under the moonlight, a testament to the desperation and desire, to be satiated in his deep hunger.

His lips, chapped and torn, lingered on you, his breath hot and warm, cheeks flushed with the heat of arousal. As he panted into you, you held his cheeks, forcing his gaze back up to yours.

“Are you ok, Jonathan?”

“I… I need you. Now. It can’t wait.”

With a surprised squeal, you were hoisted up against the wall, held there, his arms wrapped around your thighs, your legs around his waist, supported by his surprisingly strong body. Positioned against his body, you could feel his erection, the stiffened thickness at the front of his own costume, pressing against you. Just the suggestion of him alone was enough to arouse you, slick gathering as you felt him buck into you, ever so slightly.

Jonathan’s fingers were pressed into your skin, stinging even through the fabric. He clawed at it, tearing it slightly beneath his ragged nails, ferocious as he felt your skin against his calloused finger tips. His teeth met your collarbone, deep in the skin of your neck, as he moved around, kissing, lapping at you, biting to taste your flesh.

Finding himself, attempting to maintain some composure, he stopped, his forehead against yours, taking the moment to breathe before he spoke.

“This is most… inappropriate, but it’s too good to waste, you know, the feelings. It does feel right. Right?”

Taking his face in your hands you leaned into him.

“It feels perfect.”

The adrenaline dimmed, tension still palpable between them as Jonathan let himself be supported by your hands and head and body.

“There’s danger in this. Too much. But the excitement, the fear, it almost makes up for it. Still… it made me realise how close I could come to losing you.”

His fingers trailed up and down your spine, your blood running cold as the sensation, shivering with excitement as he tickled over you.

“And if we’re to risk that… I’d hate to lose out on anything. To regret not doing what I wanted.”

Jonathan’s arms were wrapped tightly around you, his lips punctuating his words as he kissed your neck and down your arm, romantic and yet, tinged with a sense of possessiveness, as though he were marking you, scenting you as his, covering you with him.

“You’re mine, my sweet. My muse, my assistant, my partner. Mine. And I want to make sure nothing bad happens to you.”

Taking you by complete surprise, his hands moved to the front of your costume, ripping it apart swiftly and with little effort. Your breasts, stomach and shoulders exposed to the elements.

“Unless, that is, I happen to be the one doing the bad things.”

Throwing your hands around his neck, placing one at the back of his head to tease back his hood, you let yourself be taken over by him, ravished completely as he let his hands drag down your front, carelessly and clumsily over your body. Though the sight of you, cold and exposed, entirely vulnerable to his touch and to the world, made his cock twitch, stiff against the front of his pants, he held you close regardless. Covering you up, bringing you into his warmth, attempting to protect you still, even against his own pleasure and desires.

Still, he was happy to let you get cold briefly, just as he positioned himself at your feet. On his knees, grovelling, begging. Devout in his worship and adoration of your body. He held his face against your stomach, kissing up it, straining to reach your breasts. With one hand, he cupped one, letting his fingers tease over the nipple, holding it between his calloused and rough finger tips and rolling it between them. The other he let hold you, palm pressed into your rear as he grabbed at your cheek, bringing you closer, to feel his hot breath against your skin.

Moments like these, where they were close in proximity but in spirit also, were points where he felt like he could be honest. To tell you how deeply he appreciated you. The friendship, the touch, the encouragement. To find such a likeminded soul, it was something he had never imagined possible. But as he held you, softer, kinder, warmer than him, he felt his stomach tighten. As much as he wanted to preserve you, to protect you, all he could think about was devouring you, ruining you for anyone else but him.

Grabbing your hips, Jonathan spun you around until you were facing the wall of the roof access building. With his hands still on your waist, he bent you over, his palm sliding up your spine to your head which he pushed down. Taking the hint, you placed your palms against the rough wall in front of you, steadying yourself. Behind you, his hands now on his own body, you could hear Jonathan unzipping his pants, pulling them down hastily.

[robinofgothamcity]

“I just killed a man, she’s my alibi.”

Character: Jonathan Crane / DC

Authors Note: guy, I’m such a slut for Jonathan, as all of you can tell lmfao. Anyway, here’s a blurb for him bc i clearly cannot stop writing for him! Again, not checked for spelling or grammar errors. Also, i think my crush on cillian also contributes to this obsession i have with Jonathan

Being a vigilante had to be one of the hardest parts of your life. Every time a crime happened in Gotham, you were one of the first to be called to be questioned. You really had no idea why Batman or his group of annoying superheroes were always so interest in you being at the center of any crime. You wondered if maybe there was an underlying reason but every time you questioned them, they gave you a flat answer.

Tonight’s crime had been done by two face and gang of gremlins and although you thought that the crime was funny, you immediately knew that Batman was going to hunt you down for it.

“Did Harvey really need to do this tonight?” You asked Jonathan and Edward as you took another swig of your wine, “I was actually enjoying this outing but I can assure you Batman is going to question me as soon as I walk out of here”. Edward couldn’t help but chuckle as he could tell that you were no longer in the mood to drink. “Have you ever thought that it could be because Batman or his group of idiots want you on their side? I mean, you are one of the few vigilantes that can control the supernatural.”

You thought for a moment, wondering if Edward had a point.

“As if, she’s not stupid enough to join them,” Jonathan replied. You gave him a look, “I mean, you’re right but can I be the one to say that?” You said as you looked back to Edward, “I really don’t see why they’d need me. They have enough magic to last them a lifetime so I doubt I’d be useful. Plus, who else would be here to be a pain in your asses if I ran off with the Justice League?”

Not a second after the three of you walked out of the bar you noticed Batman sitting on top of your motorcycle with a smirk sitting on his face.

“Good evening to you Batman, came to bother me?” You asked as you perched yourself onto the bike to look up at the caped crusader. Jonathan felt his eye twitch in annoyance as he could tell that stupid charming personality that Batman had very much worked on you without any real effort, “Is it bothering if I came to question you? There was an attempted robbery Gotham Bank and you were very close to the scene.”

You couldn’t help but laugh sarcastically.

“It is bothering me considering I’ve been with these idiots all night, you can check the camera footage if you don’t believe me,” you smugly as you pointed back to Jonathan and Edward. They gave you a look of annoyance as Jonathan stepped up next to you, “She was nowhere near that moron tonight so you can go ahead and leave us alone,” Jonathan stated as he put his hand on your shoulder.

You stared at him wondering where this genuine look of anger came from. Jonathan didn’t get angry very easily but whenever he did, it was never for something this small. It took a lot of make him upset and with the small interaction with the bat, you couldn’t help but wonder if there was something that you were missing to make him that angry.

“Sorry bat, I really was with them. If you want, you can check with Harvey and ask him about his whereabouts,” you replied not really in the mood to be dealing with the same game he always played when questioning you. Batman clicked his tongue as he looked to Jonathan, “would you like to state something? Or you Edward?” Edward put his hands up in defense as Jonathan pushed you farther back to look at Batman,” the girl already told you she was not near Dent or his goons so get to work bat.”

You and Edward started laughing as you watched Jonathan continue to stare him down.

“Come on you big scary man, you don’t need to end up in Arkham tonight,” you whispered to Jonathan as you tapped your fingers on his shoulder. He sighed realizing you were right and walked away from the hero as you gave Edward your keys as a silent indication to take it back to your place.

There wasn’t many times where Jonathan was mad at you but you realized that your interaction with Batman was the primary reason to Jonathan’s anger. You and Jonathan were very close when it came to having partners in the underworld of Gotham but this was the first time that you could see Jonathan’s anger practically boiling over.

“Okay, now that they’re both gone, want to explain why you were about to fight the strongest hero in Gotham?” You asked as you put your hands in your shorts, expecting an answer. He rolled his eyes not wanting to give you a reason but he knew you’d keep pestering him about it if he didn’t give you one, “Is there something going on with you and that moron?” He asked very straight forwardly.

“Me and Batman? First of all, absolutely not. Jonathan, you’re smart of enough to realize that on your own so what would give you that impression?” You asked. He gave you a dry laugh as you pushed you up against a random building, his thumb and index finger pinching your face, “It doesn’t take an idiot to realize that Batman wanted more than that interaction from you and you’re smart enough to realize that sweetheart.”

This time, it was your turn to roll your eyes.

“Even if he wanted something more, I’m not going to play justice league today or ever and you know that Jonathan,” you replied as you grabbed the hand that was holding your face and stroked it gently, “Jonathan, if I really wanted to make you jealous, I’d do it with someone more worth my time,” you added on.

Jonathan couldn’t help but laugh as he stared at you with this evil glint in his eyes, “well, I’m glad you know your worth,” he replied as you laid a hardening kiss on his lip, “well, I’m slightly disappointed that you doubted me,” you pouted dramatically.

“Sweetheart, you know that game does not work on me so let’s just forget this little interaction happened and we can go back to my place and finish that last bottle of wine that you didn’t get too last week.”

“Sounds like a great idea Dr.Crane,” you replied as you gave him a wink.

[paradiseprincesss]

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ 𝑻𝒐 𝑩𝒆 𝑬𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒏 𝑨𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆 | Jonathan Crane

NOTES -> Hello hello! im gonna be in uni full time again starting first week of september so uploads will be much slowerrrr im sorry. I’ll try to write as much as i can for u my little loves!

REQUEST -> Based off the prompt 15 from this list here

SUMMARY -> Your boss, Jonathan Crane, plans on isolating you away from your old life, consuming you whole until you become nothing but devoted to him...and you're too naive to see the mind games that the expert psychiatrist is playing.

WORD COUNT -> 3.3k

WARNINGS -> Smut, p in v, soft!dark Jonathan, doctor/nurse relationship, boss/employee relationship, creampie

MASTERLIST

MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Jonathan felt his chest tighten as he narrowed his blue eyes behind his glasses. His focus was locked on you and only you, along with the orderly speaking to you for the last few minutes.

You were a nurse at Arkham, young and bright-eyed, so full of energy — and that caught Jonathan’s attention. Your unusually cheerful demeanour and sweet aura drew him in, whether he liked it or not. Maybe it was how you’d always give him a cute little wave every time he’d pass by you, or maybe it was how you’d smile at him when everyone else seemed to cower away from the stoic doctor. 

Or maybe it was because once he saw you leaving work in your everyday clothes instead of your usual scrubs, and when you seemingly bent over to pick up your keys which you dropped on the ground, he could see the lace of your pink panties poking out of your low-rise sweatpants — but I guess we’ll never know. 

See, that was the problem. You were so sweet, but you were like that with everyone you worked with; which made Jonathan feel inferior in many ways, but he promised himself that he’d have you eventually.

He didn’t want to hurt you by any means — oh god, no. He’d rather torture himself than watch you suffer through any anguish. However, he did want everyone around you to fall victim to a rather sinister fate if it meant they stayed away from you. 

Jonathan didn’t really consider himself a sadist, but watching those around you seemingly go missing and suddenly quit their jobs at Arkham (unwillingly, of course), derived an innate sense of pleasure within him. 

That was one of the perks of being the chief psychiatrist — he had all the power in the world to do whatever he pleased within the walls of Arkham, no matter who he hurt in the process. Jonathan would quietly fire many employees who he felt were “too friendly” with you, but he’d always tell you that they’d mysteriously quit or that they had changed jobs. 

“Perhaps they just didn’t have it in them to help the…unique patients we house here,” he’d say to you. “Not everyone is as dedicated and as kind as you are, you know?” 

Foolishly, you let his flattery get into your head; you let yourself fall for him without even realizing it.

You believed that the universe divinely guided you to him. You were sure of it — he was just so kind and understanding. You couldn’t believe the other staff of Arkham didn’t see him the way you did! How could they dislike him? Fear him? 

To Jonathan, you were like an angel that fell from above, capturing his cold, dead heart within your warm, beating, and very alive one. You were so kind to the patients, so gentle with them — and your patients only ever had good things to say about you. 

As you spoke to the orderly in front of you about what you did over the weekend, you noticed your boss looking rather tense from the corner of your eye. His jaw was clenched slightly, and his expression unforgiving. He exhaled sharply before ushering you over toward him, causing you to excuse yourself from your current conversation. 

“Doctor Crane,” you greeted sweetly, “how are you?”

“I’m rather stressed today,” he answered softly, taking on that same gentle tone that he always seemed to take with you. 

“Is everything okay?” 

“Everything is fine, but I'm worried about you.”

“What do you mean?” you asked innocently, cocking your head to the side slightly as if to emphasize your confusion. 

“I think perhaps we should speak in my office about this,” he offered. “Come with me, please.” 

Your smile suddenly faltered slightly as anxiety and paranoia ran rampant through your veins.

Your paranoid thoughts had to be put on the back burner as you took a seat across from him in his office, watching him as he sat down at his desk. His suit was pristine as always — and today, he opted for a brown sweater vest underneath it.

You’d count every thread and stitch on his suit for him if he asked you to. 

“Doctor Crane—”

“Just Jonathan is fine,” he interrupted before clearing his throat. “I wanted to speak to you in private about a certain concern of mine.” 

“What is it?”

He sighed before he took off his glasses and meticulously placed them on his desk. He leaned forward slightly, and you stayed quiet as he hesitated for a moment before his smooth voice finally cut through the silence in his office between the two of you. 

“I’m worried that you may be overworking yourself,” he explained, looking at you with his tantalizing eyes. “I notice you pick up shifts and work overtime frequently, and I worry that you may be taking on more than you can handle. As your boss, I just want to make sure that you’re not burning yourself out as that can’t be good for you, and I believe in a healthy work-life balance.”

You made an ‘o’ shape with your mouth, unsure as to what you could say to him — that wasn’t what you were expecting him to say to you. Perhaps you had been overworking yourself, but that was just a part of you. Having a strong work ethic was something you strongly believed in, but maybe he was right. You couldn’t care for your patients if you were too exhausted to, right? 

Now that he mentioned it, you were quite tired today. You started to think about it — as of recently, you’d been slamming coffees left right and center to stay awake at work, hadn’t you? You just wanted to help out since you were fairly new around here, but maybe it was doing you more damage than good.

Jonathan saw your usually cheerful demeanour deflate in his office, and he looked at you sympathetically, “I know this is not something you’d want to hear, especially from your boss of all people — but I just want to ensure that all my staff are doing well, you know?”

You bit your lip for a mere second, hesitating to speak before you let the words fall from your lips, “You know, Jonathan, sometimes I feel like you’re the only person here who actually…cares about me.” 

He internally applauded himself — in a moment of vulnerability, you sought out comfort in him. Just like he had planned. Just like he wanted.

“I think you’re an exceptional nurse,” he mused, “and truthfully, I do enjoy working alongside you. So yes, of course, I care about you. I remember when I first started working after finishing my residency, I would exhaust myself constantly. I’ve learned through many years that it’s just not good for you.” 

Jonathan’s plan was being executed perfectly — he wanted to isolate you. He wanted you to come running into his arms, far away from everyone else around you. He was on his worst behaviour today, but he believed you brought out the best in him. 

You weren’t overworking yourself, but with Jonathan’s quick wit, years of training in psychology, and exceptional gaslighting skills, you thought perhaps he was right. Maybe you should take some time off of work, you thought.

“Tell you what,” he said softly, “how about you and I have drinks tonight instead? Forget about work and such. I think you need it.”

His words caused your cheeks to heat up. He was your boss, and this was way out of line for a boss to ask an employee. However, it didn’t help that you were very attracted to him.

“Drinks?”

“My place at eight. I have a bottle of cabernet I think you’d enjoy — If I remember correctly, you said it was your favourite?” 

“Y-yeah,” you stammered. “It is.” 

“So I'll see you tonight at eight, then,” he smiled softly, causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach. “I’ll text you my address.” 

You nodded, slightly starstruck. 

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Once you’d parked your car on the side of the neighbourhood street, you stepped out into the chilly night, your high heels clicking against the pavement of the ground loudly as you made your way onto his porch.

You gave three soft raps to his front door before you heard shuffling coming from inside the house. After a few moments, the front door swung open gently, and Jonathan stood there with a small smile on his face.

“Come inside,” he ushered you, “make yourself at home, darling.”

And so you did. 

You two talked over a few glasses of cabernet, bringing up the topic of work a few times here and there, but he mostly attempted to get to know the real you. What you did in your spare time, what your hobbies were, if you were seeing anyone…

“Out of curiosity, are you seeing anyone?” Jonathan asked you casually, but his voice dropped an octave as he looked directly at you, resting his hand on your thigh rather boldly. “I’m asking because I've seen the way you look at me…” 

“I-I’m sorry?” you stammered, your cheeks feeling warmer and warmer by the second with the way his hand was now resting on your leg. You couldn’t deny it now. “I didn’t mean…um, I just — you’re always so kind to me…and I–”

He shushed you softly, creeping his hand up a little further. “I’m quite flattered, darling. Not to worry,” he purred. “I figured it wouldn’t be very appropriate of me to tell you how hard it is for me to not look at you when you’re at work, but after today, I just don’t think I can help myself anymore…” 

Suddenly, his lips brushed up against yours, and as if it was instinct, your hands came to wrap around his shoulders. He let you pull him in even closer, his hands now coming to rest on your hips as you two kissed feverishly on his couch.

You and him were like a chemical reaction — explosive, unpredictable, and potentially fatal.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered against your lips in between kisses. 

A shiver ran down your spine as his hold on your hips tightened slightly, his words causing your brain to short-circuit for a moment before you could think clearly again. 

“Jonathan, I–”

“Don’t speak, just give into it, my darling.”

You let yourself get lost in the constellation that was Jonathan Crane, letting him run his hands all over your body and kiss you with an insatiable hunger. Soft moans left your mouth as he peppered kisses down your jawline and neck, nipping at the delicate skin gently. 

You would’ve been worried about him leaving marks because you wouldn’t want your boss to see the next day at work — but you had to remind yourself that he was your boss. 

But none of that mattered when it felt so right; when his lips felt so good against your skin.

“Can I take this off?” he rasped, toying with the strap of your dress. 

“Mhm,” you hummed. “Please, Jonathan…”

Slowly, he took the dress off of your body, gently tossing the garment to the side as he looked at you in absolute awe. It was like looking at a priceless piece of art in a museum exhibit to him — nothing could compare. Even a picture wouldn’t do the sight in front of him justice. 

“Should we go upstairs?” you suddenly asked. 

Maybe it was the handful of wine you’d shared that evening, or maybe it was just sheer arousal; you weren’t sure which one, but all you knew was that you needed him to have his way with you. 

“Yeah, of course,” he agreed, taking your hand in his. “Just up the stairs to the left — I think I'll let you lead the way, darling…”

The two of you got up from the couch, hand in hand, and Jonathan’s eyes roamed your body from behind as you made your way up the stairs together. 

Of course, you came prepared — you know, just in case things were to happen. Before you left, you threw on your sexiest, laciest, lingerie underneath your dress, and it was a good thing you did because that investment certainly paid off.

He watched your hips sway in your lingerie, along with the heels you were still wearing (because we simply can’t forget about those), and he could feel his cock straining against his pants. “Pretty girl,” he mumbled from behind you. “Your body is heavenly.” 

“Shush,” you giggled, grabbing him by his tie and pulling him close once you reached the bedroom. 

He looked down at you in the dim lighting of his bedroom, noticing the way your skin was glowing under it. Your hair was slightly messy from making out on the couch earlier, and you had a small smile tugging at your lips — you were perfection if he’d ever seen it. 

Jonathan kissed you rougher this time, his hands finding their way into your hair, tugging ever so gently against your scalp. He backed you up onto the bed, pushing you down onto it as he undid his tie, looming over your delicate body which was sprawled out on his king-sized bed. 

After taking his tie off, he threw off his suit jacket and started to unbutton his shirt. You hummed softly, running your heel against his leg as he rushed to get himself out of his clothes. The tent in his pants made it all the more obvious how desperate he truly was for you, but you stayed patient. 

Once he was on the bed with you, he helped you out of your bra and panties, causing your cheeks to heat up from how exposed you felt. “You’re cute when you blush,” he commented when he noticed your blush, making you all the more flustered while he undid his belt. 

After freeing himself, his thick, veiny cock caught your attention, and you swallowed the lump in your throat. He was big — you weren’t sure how that was supposed to fit, but right now you were so wet, you were almost certain your walls would stretch out around him with ease. 

He lined himself up with your dripping entrance, giving himself a few strokes before looking at you with his lip caught between his teeth. “Are you sure?” he whispered, and you nodded feverishly. 

“Please,” you whimpered.

Your back was arched and you let out a filthy moan as he slid himself into your warm, sticky cunt with little resistance. The sheer size of him alone had you feeling so full, and he stilled as he bottomed out in you so that you could adjust to him. “Tell me when,” he said softly, his hand coming to brush up against your hips softly. 

“You can move now,” you breathlessly said, giving him the green light. Your breath got caught in your throat as he started to set a gentle but deep pace, the tip of his cock brushing against that spongy spot inside of you with every thrust. 

“O-oh–” you moaned.

His hands found purchase on your hips, and his eyes trailed over your face as he fucked you sensually, but slowly, eventually going harder and faster as you got accumulated to him. “So fucking tight, Jesus—” he choked out. You’d never heard him curse before, and his smooth voice had you clenching around him, to which he let out another moan. “Fuck, darling — you feel so good.” 

“Mm-hmm!” you squeaked, taking his cock deeper and deeper into your soaked cunt with every stroke. “Jonathan, fuck—!”

“Right there, darling?” he cooed softly, slamming his cock into your hole much rougher now, causing you to see stars as he stretched you open on his thickness. “Feels good, baby?” 

“Yes, yes, yes — oh my god!” you chanted, grabbing onto his biceps as you felt his fat cock drilling you. You were letting out feverish moans, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you became increasingly more cock-drunk by the minute. 

Your moans were like music to Jonathan. Like the sound he would hear being played once he died and went to heaven — because to him, this was heaven. You’d come running into the arms of the man who was slowly isolating you, breaking you; cornering you into his heart. 

But there’s always something so right about something so inherently wrong, isn’t there? 

“I can feel you squeezing me,” he groaned, watching you with furrowed brows as he concentrated on your pleasure. “Are you close, darling? Fuck, you are, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you whimpered breathlessly, moans being forced out of you with every delicious thrust he gave your cunt. “Gonna– oh, I’m gonna cum!” 

Jonathan watched in a mixture of pure bliss, awe, and satisfaction as you fell apart in his very hands. Yes — this is where he wanted you. He just wanted to love you, to show you how perfect he was for you, to take care of you and make you see that everyone else around you was just a waste of time. 

No more talking to orderlies who’d flirt with you, no more going out for after-work drinks with the other nurses. No, none of that. He was going to make sure that you’d work under him only, figuratively and literally.

“Gon’ cum,” he groaned, feeling his cock spurting ropes of cum into your warm, tight hole as he gave you a few more lazy thrusts, not bothering to pull out. Your mind went blank as he filled you up wholly, stuffing you with his sticky, warm seed as you lay there fucked out from what just happened moments prior. “Why don’t you stay over tonight?”

You looked up at him groggily, mind still foggy from your orgasm. “What? I work tomorrow–”

“Take a paid day off,” he shrugged, pulling his softening cock out from your worn-out hole. “Use as many as you’d like darling, I won’t tell.” 

His teasing words caused you to throw your head back into the pillows blissfully with a sigh, genuinely believing that he only had your best interest at heart — he just didn’t want you to overwork yourself. It’s not like he was planning on totally locking you away from every living being in Gotham besides him or anything…

“I feel bad though,” you murmured sleepily. “I feel like I’m – I dunno – abusing my privileges.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous, pretty girl,” Jonathan assured you softly, turning off the lights so that only the moonlight was dimly shining into his bedroom. He placed a soft kiss on the top of your head as he pulled the covers over you both, cradling you in his arms like you were made of fine china. “You know I only want what’s best for you.”

“You’re so lovely, Jon. You truly have such a kind soul.” 

“Surely nothing compared to yours, my darling,” he whispered against your hair as you closed your eyes. “Now, get some rest. We can talk about moving your things in here in the morning…”

Unfortunately, you had already dozed off in his embrace; too busy being washed away by sleep to hear his words. Jonathan smiled to himself — he’d never let you go now. You’d lost all control the moment you stepped into his house, unknowingly making yourself a hostage of some sort.  

In the end, as you clung to him, believing he was the saviour from your exhaustion, you failed to see that it was his “love” that had slowly consumed you whole, leaving you nothing but a hollow shell, devoured by the very hands that promised refuge.

Sometimes, the most dangerous traps are the ones we walk into willingly, thinking they’re the key to our freedom, as they say. But the cruel irony of it all is that we think we’re being saved from the jaws of this terrible world, only to be eaten alive by those who we call our saviours. 

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Taglist -> @girlinterrupted505 @ciriceimpera @jordyn-yeager @thevelvetvampyre @galactict3a

@xanaxiii @nocturnest @psylrd @bloodandglitter207 @humbuginmybones 

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[frootertooter]

Some BTAS Crane doodles bc he's so goofy and silly

[myveryownfanfiction]

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

tags: @illiana-mystery, @eclecticwildflowers, @onedirectionlovers2014

warnings: swearing, mention of cranes fear gas

Putting the finishing touches on the decorations, I stood back to take a look at my handiwork. There were home made decorations mixed in among the store bought ones. Johnathan and I had gone shopping several times, each time harder than the last to walk out under budget.

“Johnathan!” I called as I started to clean up all the packaging, separating it between what we needed to keep and the garbage can. “Come look! See if I missed anything!”

“just a minute!” Johnathan called back. I sighed as I ventured towards the office in the back of the apartment. “I’m working on something!”

“Whatcha working on?” I asked, leaning in the doorway. Johnathan looked up at me with a smile, pushing his glasses back up his nose.

“a fog machine.” He responded. There was a mischievous glint in his eye.

“a fog machine.” I repeated. Johnathan nodded. I held his gaze for a minute before scrunching up my nose. “Please tell me you aren’t thinking of using what I think you are.” Johnathan chuckled and shrugged. “Johnathan…” I whined.

“(Y/N)…” he tried to explain but I held up a finger.

“it’s one thing to test it on the inmates at arkham. It’s another to use it in the narrows and on Batman. But to use it on trick or treaters. On kids Johnathan!” I exclaimed. Johnathan frowned and looked at the machine in his hands.

“I didn’t think of it that way.” He murmured. “So…” he moved the machine to the other side of his work space and picked up a small decoration I had given him when we first started dating. “The good old fashioned way it is. Death then?” I nodded with a laugh.

“death.” I agreed. “Come see what I’ve done to the rest of the place.” I held my hand out for Johnathan and he took it with a smile. He abandoned his glasses on the desk and let me gently tug him off of the office and down the hall.

“what horrors have you concocted my dear?” He asked as we entered the living room. Wrapping his arms around my waist, Johnathan propped his chin on my shoulder and nodded. “Looks good. Just missing the pumpkins. How many are we getting this year?”

“not sure yet. What do you think we have enough space for?” I asked, turning my head slightly to look at him. Johnathan locked eyes with me and smiled.

“how many do you want?” He chuckled. I smiled brightly at him.

“you’ve learned well Dr. Crane.” I teased with a laugh. Johnathan chuckled as he pulled me tighter against his chest. He kissed my cheek and leaned his head against my temple. “I think four should be enough this year.”

“then four we shall have.” He agreed. “I’ll go get the biggest ones they have next week. I’m sure falcone can spare someone to help me carry them.” I laughed and patted his cheek.

“I’m sure he can. Or maybe Ra’s could.” Johnathan laughed.

“I’d pay good money to see him do that.” I chuckled as Johnathan kissed me deeply.