#scarecrow arkham

[vampzgraveyard]

Doing the hear me out cake thingy-

and no I am not explaining myself at all..

[fayechambered]

now madness takes you… forever || scarecrow in arkham asylum

[sister-lucifer]

Choke For Me 

Jonathan Crane x Male Reader 

Genre: Smut 

Summary: Jonathan has to keep you quiet during a quickie in his Arkham office 

Content/Warnings: Porn with no plot, sub reader, Jonathan’s a little mean, nearly getting caught, risky/sort of public sex, gagging, choking, anal sex, praise (good boy), a bit of crying, no use of Y/N

This is not fully proofread, please let me know if you see any errors. 

Feedback is appreciated and encouraged. 

If you like this fic, please reblog! It’s free, takes two seconds, and it’s a great way to support writers.  

“Sweetheart, for the love of god, I need you to be quiet.” 

Jonathan’s southern drawl was nearly a growl in your ear, a low warning. He kept his eyes on the door of his office, as though if he stared hard enough at it no one would come too close. The lock on it has been broken for months.

He’s starting to remember why he never lets work and pleasure overlap. 

You’d only come to pick him up after work; his truck is in the shop for a yet unknown reason—a likely consequence of driving the oldest F1 known to man—so for now, he’s relying on you to get around. You were only supposed to pick him up. 

But then you sauntered into his office, all smiles, and hopped right up onto his desk without second thought. You’d tried to make some conversation, but he tuned out almost immediately. He doesn’t know what got into him. At the time, all he could think about was how badly he wanted you. He was practically running on blind instinct when he bent you over his desk. 

“God, why haven’t we done this sooner?” he’d asked as he hastily unbuckled his belt. 

Now he remembers. 

You’re so damn noisy. 

He loves when you scream for him, he adores the noises you make when you’re at home, in bed, but not when you’re trying to have a secret quickie in his office. It’s late, sure, but there’s always guards on duty. If one of them came down this hall, they’d definitely hear— 

“Gah—! Jonathan…!” You whimper through heavy breaths, and the sound makes him wince. 

He can’t stop now, but he needs a way to shut you up before this little rendezvous costs him his job. His grip on you tightens as he presses you harder into the desk. 

Think, Jon, you have to do something, quick. 

He looks back at you, and you’re panting like a dog. Even your heavy breathing is causing a ruckus. 

You don’t realize what’s going on until you hear him fumbling with his belt. Before you can question what he’s doing, he pulls the thick leather tight between your teeth. 

“Bite.” 

His order holds no room for argument. You obey, effectively gagging yourself. He tightens the belt around your head, roughly stabbing the prong of the buckle into the leather to fasten it. He mumbles something incoherent in his frustration. 

Despite your best efforts to keep yourself quiet, you can’t help but moan into your makeshift gag. Jonathan’s cock is a force to be reckoned with, and he knows how to use it; he doesn’t leave any spot untouched. It makes your head spin. 

“Goddammit,” he rasps through gritted teeth, “it’s not enough…I need to keep you quiet…”

You whine, unable to give a proper apology. He gives a harsh shush in return. 

“Shut up, fuck…I hear something.” 

Your blood runs cold. Jonathan presses his body into yours a bit harder, but doesn’t stop rutting into you. You hear it too—the chatter of two guards coming down the hall. 

Jonathan can sense your rising panic. He holds you a bit tighter, keeping you still underneath him. 

“Shhh,” he whispers, “just be quiet, just be quiet…” 

He feels a bit guilty, demanding your silence while simultaneously refusing to stop thrusting, but that feeling is quickly washed away when you clench around him. He bites down hard on his bottom lip. 

The footsteps are getting closer. He can make out their words clearly now. You’re starting to tear up, and the belt won’t muffle your sobs enough. Every sound echoes like gunshots in the still asylum. 

You gasp when he angles his hips in just the right way. He knows that sound, and the cry that’s surely about to follow it. 

He barely manages to wrap his hand around your throat in time to choke the sound. 

Your eyes go wide as your air supply is cinched without warning. Your instinct is to struggle, to try to pull his hand away, but Jonathan is stronger than you. He doesn’t budge. 

“Don’t fight me,” he huffs, “I’m not gonna hurt you, but I can’t have you makin’ so much noise. Just relax.” 

Really, you’ve no other choice but to listen. Your hands fall away from your throat. 

“Good boy,” he mumbles, breath hot against your ear. The praise makes you shiver, and he knows it. 

The steps are getting closer. The laughter is more raucous. The sound of meaningless gossip pauses in front of the door, and you think for a moment you might pass out. Christ, why does this feel like life or death?

Jonathan leans in again to whisper to you, so quiet even you can barely hear, “They’re right outside the door. Just stay still, and choke for me like a good boy.” 

His grip on your neck tightens for a brief moment, and you know he’s deathly serious. His cock twitches as it just barely moves back and forth inside of you. He hides his face in the crook of your neck as he listens. 

It feels like it takes a million years before they finally walk away. Jonathan’s grip doesn’t falter for even a moment. There’s a moment where you wonder if he’ll ever let go as the hints of dark spots start to leak into your vision, but you’re frozen in place. 

Finally, the door at the end of the hall opens, then shuts. 

Silence. 

Jonathan releases your neck, and you collapse against his desk as you struggle to catch your breath around your gag. Your lungs fill so fast it makes you sputter and cough. You reach behind you to unbuckle the belt, but Jonathan is quick to grab your hands. 

“Don’t even think about it,” he hisses, “we’re not done yet.” 

He adjusts his stance, preparing to fuck you with his full strength once again, and leans down to talk right into your ear. 

“So be fucking quiet, because if I have to choke you again, I might not stop.”

This is not fully proofread, please let me know if you see any errors. 

Feedback is appreciated and encouraged. 

If you like this fic, please reblog! It’s free, takes two seconds, and it’s a great way to support writers.  

[spoonv]

some traditional art and doodles of mine I don't think I've ever posted here :)

featuring @clarisinne's farmer Clarice on a whiteboard at work 💀

and the rest of my Stardew inktober stuff too

[kissyboots]

I put Arkham Shadow Crane's pic through a beauty filter and Hot Damn, Professor Who-dis?!!!🔥🔥🔥

[somnoir]

The family of rogues

The Fentons/Masters siblings move to Gotham for various reasons. Jazz gets herself an internship in Arkham and spends most of her time trying to finish med school. Danny gets himself a scholarship and attends Gotham U for his aerospace engineering. Elle doesn't want to be away from her siblings and gets herself enrolled into Gotham Academy after pestering Vlad. Dan, who had no trust in the world to keep his siblings safe, follows after them as expected.

None of them realized that they were rogue material. The entirety of Gotham knew to stay the fuck away from the Fentons.

The Bats find out very quickly why these newcomers were considered the future rogues.

Their youngest was in Damian's year, a seemingly normal girl if not for her acrobatics and agility that rivaled a Robins. Danielle Masters—Elle—was also part of the fencing club. But that didn't make her rogue material. No. She had her own penchant for violence and was known for her intelligence, actively threatening anyone who tried to hijak the academy while she was present. The last story Damian told them was filled with his admiration and a hint of swooning when he mentioned that she had taken a rapier and almost cut a man for trying to bomb the school.

Not so bad, right? Just... A really shabby teenage girl. Damian was the same! So...

Next came the second son of the family. Danny Fenton was an obvious genius. He was capable of making the most dangerous things from mere scraps. Tim had been there to witness the boy make a fully functioning flame thrower from a lighter and what seemed to be a toaster. Said flamethrower was then used to melt away Mr. Freeze's ice and the man had been very concerned when a college student with eye bags darker than Barman's was pointing a DIY flamethrower at his head. Ever since then, Tim has been hellbent on figuring out how the fuck Fenton did that. Unfortunately for him, Danny Fenton was prone to vanishing just like the rest of his siblings. In addition to that sort of intelligence and skill, the young man was adept at combat like his sister. The group of 4 were clearly trained. Very well trained if the witnesses were honest.

Okay, very concerning. Clearly someone who knew how to make weapons on the fly and was not scared of barbequing people if he was threatened.

Then we get to Dante Masters, the first son and second oldest of the bunch. He'd arrived a little after his siblings and had started of as a mechanic, tinkering with everything and anything. Jason had been to said shop to have his bike fixed and once Dante Masters got his hands on it, the bike was suddenly better and faster. Apparently there were some slight modifications here and there to upgrade the bike. But then he'd quite—Jason was devastated—and proceeded to become a guard in Arkham. No one managed to escape Arkham when it was Dante's shift. Red Hood had gone to Arkham himself to check what was wrong. All the in mates were scared of the man who'd suddenly appear at the end of the hallway as the lights flickered whenever they tried to escape. The best thing the Scarecrow did when he saw that slenderman bullshit was walk back to his cell and wait for Dante to lock it.

Concerning, horrendously concerning. This was a confirmed future rogue that has the mechanical ability of his brother, a body bigger than Jason's, and Batman's melt into the shadows shit.

But the eldest? Jasmine Fenton looked utterly harmless, positive and sweet compared to the menaces that were her younger siblings. She sought to change Arkham from the inside and even the inmates were fond of this mothering redhead. Dick had come to visit Harley once when she was caught doing crime and he'd seen her get assigned to the Joker. Everyone was scared shitless that he'd make another Harley, another good woman turned rogue by a madman. But what came out of that session was the Joker, suddenly all quiet and a face stuck in a quiet smile. It was like Jasmine had given him a lobotomy. He'd go manic and laugh all day, everyday, but once Jazz entered his cell with her clipboard and pen, the laughing immediately died and Joker was left looking utterly haunted after every session.

Not a rogue made by the Joker but a future rogue that seemed to have tamed? Traumatized? They weren't sure but something happened and the Joker was both scared and respectful when it came to Jazz Fenton.

Everyone in Gotham knew to not fuck with the nice ones.

Everyone in Gotham knew to stay the fuck away from the Fentons.

(At the end of every week, Jazz continues to respect confidentiality clauses and doesn't tell her siblings a thing. The truth of the matter? Jazz was as liminal as she was and on the verge of becoming a halfa. Her younger siblings may consist of the ghost king and halfas about to become ancients, but the ghosts listened to her words.

For every session that she has with the Joker, she invites as many ghosts as she can to join in on the session. When the Joker grows mad, she interrupts with information on his past that no one should know.

The Joker's laughter went quiet the moment his new psychologist closed the door behind her and smiled, "Good afternoon, Jack. My name is Jasmine."

No one knew the Joker's real name, not even Batman.

No one alive knew his real name. He'd killed all of them.

Good thing for Jazz that she had so many ghosts floating behind her, whispering his name and secrets into her ear.)

Masterpost

[pirate-cashoo]

I am sooooo so very normal about Arkham Shadow Jonathan Crane

[demonic0angel]

Prompt: Dan Phatom as an inmate of Arkham Asylum?

Part 2, part 3

Harley hummed. She eyed the newest inmate, a gorgeous hunk of meat with dark raven hair and bright blue eyes. He was wearing the usual orange suit, but he wore it like a model, with the buttons opened and sleeves rolled up, highlighting his broad arms and tight muscles. He was as beautiful as a demon, and even though Ivy was way prettier, Harley still couldn’t help but be curious.

Harley nodded to herself, thinking for only a moment. Then she waved a hand, calling out, “Yoo hoo! You there! Hey, handsome! Why don’t you come here and spend some time with me and Ivy?”

Ivy rolled her eyes next to her. “Harley!” She hissed.

The man paused, tilted his head, and then smiled, flashing his sharp fangs before he crossed the prison yard to sit down with the two. People stared at them, but the man didn’t seem bothered.

“Hello,” he said politely, “what’s up?”

“You’re new here, ain’tcha?” Harley said rhetorically. “What’re you in for?”

The man chuckled. “I thought it was rude to ask?”

“Nahhh, in here? It doesn’t matter. Everyone already knows why we’re here, there’s no secrets around here. So? What’re you in here for?”

The man smiled. “I started teasing a little bird I found and then he started getting mad at me. I didn’t like how he made Batman go after me, so I made a building explode and I was tossed into here. I didn’t even kill anyone though!”

Seeing how large and old he was, Harley was a little worried and had to ask, “Which little bird?”

“The beautiful one with the black and blue suit and the pretty smile,” the man said dreamily, curling a lock of raven hair around his clawed fingers as he looked towards the sky in a daydream. “He was pretty funny too.”

Harley immediately cooed. Anyone who thought Nightwing was funny clearly hadn’t been hit over the head by his escrima sticks while he threw out obnoxious puns, but the way he described him was so sweet! He was clearly insane, so that was completely okay in her books!

“Awww, that’s so cute! Are you a meta or what? Those fangs o’ yours don’t look human!” Harley said, while Ivy shook her head exasperatedly.

The man shook his head with a small smile. “Not exactly. But I guess I do have meta powers.”

Ivy asked, “Then doesn’t that just make you a meta?”

The man shrugged and then asked, “What about you ladies?” Harley knew that he was just dodging the question, but she didn’t mind, so she began to prattle on about the recent museum break-in she and the girls did, but Selina got away while she and Ivy were caught. Selina was planning a break out for them soon, so they just had to sit tight and wait!

The man smiled, fangs appearing again. “Can I join you? I want to see that little bird again.”

Harley beamed, “Sure thing! What’s your name?” while Ivy groaned.

The man smiled and reached over to shake her hand. His hands were cold and large, like a chunk of ice. He smiled and his pupils sharpened into slits, but oddly enough, he still looked friendly, like a tiger in a way.

“Please. Call me Wraith.”

[bianc0re]

So good at therapy he doesn't need a license (Alt version under)

[jonathan-cranes-mistress-of-fear]

[cornetespoir]

A silly sketch

[strawberrybyers]

being a slut and mentally ill means i’d do really well as a patient in arkham asylum

[fayechambered]

at the end of fear

oblivion

[illustratedartist]

Not A Good Boy 🎃🤦🔴

When your new dad is disappointed in you so you decide to swtich teams again. 🤷‍♀️

I wanted to try and jump on this trend, but naturally Im late to it! And I wanted to keep it loose and sketchy since Ive been getting too caught up in details with my works and getting anxious. But I had fun, so enjoy this little doodle!

[rooka-uwu]

❤️🖤

[kissyboots]