#disgusting freak of a man. repulsive creature thing. I won’t him so bad

[museofthepyre]

I can’t stop drawing this freak whAT IS WRONG WITH HIM

[hexusproductions]

Can you do a scarecrowxreader fic (Maybe masters of fear crane)

I haven’t read Masters Of Fear, but I hope Crane from Scarecrow: Year One is okay...

You cursed under your breath as you tried to hurry. The sun was already beginning to set, Gotham’s skyline bleeding orange with tints of blue.

This was what you got for trying to do a late grocery run.

Sirens began to blare, and you almost dropped the packed paper bag in your arms.

Great! What the hell was going on?!

You looked around in annoyance before resuming your hurried stride, cold wind fluttering through your open coat. The police sirens were becoming louder, the cars they belonged to no doubt nearing closer. You tried to drone them out, not exactly fond of blaring noise, but it was no use. They were so loud that you couldn’t hear yourself think, and you certainly didn’t hearing the sound of someone sprinting down the street until they bowled you over.

“Ow!” A straw hat and your bag of groceries fell near your side, and you turned to see the idiot on top of you, “What do you think you’re-“ You froze, eyes widening in shock and fear. A stitched mouth and burlap stared back at you, straw sticking out at odd angles in the clothing worn on its thin frame.

You tried to speak, but no sound came out as you frantically tried to push the straw creature off of you. It did the same, but with less fear and more hurry, and landed on its backside.

You would have laughed if you weren’t scared stupid.

It looked back over its shoulder before turning back to you, and it reached up and pulled the burlap face off its head.

“(Y/n)…?” The creature was a man, with auburn hair and piercing eyes. You stared, and finally found your voice again as you jumped to your feet.

“Jonathan!?”

Red and blue lights flashed at the end of the street, and Jonathan quickly grabbed your hand and pulled you into an alleyway. Pulled against his chest, you tried hard to fight the colour rising to your cheeks. Jonathan kept his gaze on the opening of the alleyway, waiting in complete silence as the group of police cars sped past your hiding place. You wondered if Jonathan was holding his breath. You certainly were.

When the last car had passed and the lights and sirens had faded, he exhaled and released you.

“My apologies.”

All you could do was stare, no longer scared but very, very confused.

“Jonathan? Is that…really you?”

He looked at you, then looked away and frowned. He didn’t speak.

You didn’t understand. The last time you had seen Jonathan Crane, he had been fired from his job teaching at Gotham University, and now he was standing in an alley dressed like…

“Holy hell, what happened to you?” You exclaimed, looking at the outrageous costume. Jonathan glanced at you before averting his eyes again, retrieving his mask.

“Things have…taken a turn.” You honestly couldn’t read the look on his face. His answer wasn’t exactly specific either. You tilted your head, trying to enter his line of sight.

“What do you mean?” You couldn’t help it, but there was a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach that told you that you didn’t want to know.

Jonathan looked around the corner, wary of any brave officers who decided to double back, and the bad feeling was replaced with concern and something you still wanted to deny.

“Jon, do you need some help?”

He stiffened, back still turned to you, and for a moment you thought he was going to tell you off like he used to back at the university. But instead, he slowly turned around to face you, with that same unreadable look on his face as before.

“(Y/n)…you honestly don’t know, do you?”

You stared for a moment, completely bewildered by what he was trying to tell you, before you shook your head. Not in reply, but in firm decision.

“Come on, you can hide at my place.” You took his hand, and his eyes widened slightly.

“I don’t need-“ He tried to protest, but you were already pulling him out of the alley. You paused only long enough to try and salvage some of your groceries, which Jonathan used as an opportunity to retrieve the straw hat laying next to the bag. You led him down the streets, moving quickly across the block and to your apartment. Neither of you exchanged a word until the door was closed and locked behind you.

“I didn’t need you to do that.” Jonathan remarked, finishing the sentence he had tried earlier.

“I am not watching your ass get thrown in the back of a police car.” You replied, and pointed to the sofa, "You sit, and I’ll put these groceries away. I’ll be back in a minute Poe.” You turned and headed for the kitchen. Jonathan took a step towards the sofa, then paused and smiled.

Taking the individual items out of the bag and placing them on the counter, a smile played on the corners of your lips as you put them away. This was…not how you saw your evening going. But…

You glanced up for a moment to Crane as he looked around your apartment.

…It was a nice surprise.

“Did you want something to drink?”

“No, thank you.” He still hadn’t sat down, “You seem to have accommodated yourself well since last we spoke.”

“Yeah, well,” You laughed nervously as you came back into the living room, “Rent’s cheap, I guess.” Jonathan hummed in agreement, turning to look at you.

You’d forgotten about the silence.

Back then, what seemed like forever now, when you were interning at the university, most of your time in the company of the professor had been in silence. There hadn’t been much time with him specifically, of course, but Jonathan had always been a fan of the coffee machine. And sometimes, if you were lucky, you would get to bring him files or work in his office.

Professor Crane was, by far, the best resource you had had during your time at Gotham University.

“Poe.”

You blinked, “Excuse me?”

“Poe. The nickname you gave me during our time together at the university.” Jonathan was giving you an amused look, and you once again felt colour rush to your face.

“F-Force of habit, I guess.” You stammered, embarrassed by your absentminded slip up, and you tried to change the subject to literally anything else, “So, how have you been? Since you were…you know,”

“Fired?” You jumped at the harshness of his tone. What was disturbing was that while the rest of his face was still relatively calm, his eyes blazed with layers of anger, hatred and misery. And then it was gone, and Jonathan crossed his arms.

“…Jon?” When he once again fell into that sombre silence, you moved towards him, “What’s happened? You’re starting to freak me out.” Jonathan thought for a few minutes, and you waited impatiently for his answer. You had had enough of this. You wanted to know why the police had been after Jonathan, why he had been running, and you wanted to know now.

You waited with your hands on your hips, until Jonathan exhaled.

“You may find that you need to sit down, (y/n).” He told you, and gestured to the sofa. You looked at him in confusion, but slowly stepped over to the piece of furniture and sat down. Jonathan glanced at you, considered it, and then awkwardly sat down as well, across from you.

“Since we last saw each other, when I was fired for my ‘reckless misconduct’, I’ve done some things that I’m not proud of. And…quite a few that I am.” There was a hint of delight in his voice, that was clear. You were concerned again, and that bad feeling was returning.

“What did you do?” You asked quietly, and Jonathan paused.

“I won’t discuss every intricate detail, but you should know that they barely felt a thing. Other than terror.”

You blinked. And then fell off the sofa.

Obviously, you had meant to stand, but the shock had turned it into a graceless, tumbling scramble.

“Shit!” You didn’t swear often, but now seemed appropriate, “Jon, what the hell did you do?” You held your hands to your head, trying to process what you had just heard. Jonathan rose from the sofa, expression falling, but you weren’t afraid. You weren’t even disgusted. You just really wanted to know what kind of mess Crane had gotten himself into. Did he…did he kill someone? Holy shit.

“(Y/n), don’t be angry.” Jonathan’s gaze was warning, but, desperate? Was he actually worried that you might be mad at him?

“I’m not mad.” You replied quickly, and looked at him in amazement, “I’m just…trying to comprehend this recent development.” You had to sit down again, fumbling for the arm of the sofa as you did. Jonathan moved to support you, but stopped midway through the action.

“That’s a bit of an understatement, don’t you think?” He questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, shush.” You could have hit him for that sarcastic remark. Jonathan seemed a little happier for having ebbed your confusion, or for annoying you at least.

“So, you’re…not upset?”

“No. No, I’m not upset.” You replied, sounding uncertain because of your amazement at not being upset, “I should probably be repulsed or something, right?”

“That is the usual response.”

“Great.” You looked at Jonathan with a flat expression, “That just makes us two special snowflakes, huh?” Jonathan shrugged.

“I don’t see that as a bad thing, personally.”

That wasn’t really the point, but okay. Another silence fell over the room, and you looked around awkwardly. Your…former superior, who you saw as a friend, had just admitted to doing some sort of felony. Where could the conversation go after that? The faint smell of straw drifted to you, and you looked around to see that Jon’s strange scarecrow costume had gotten it basically everywhere.

“Jonathan!” You felt a smile creeping up as you gestured around you to his mess, “How did you get straw all over my apartment?” Jonathan looked around the room, and put his arms behind his back.

“Not everywhere.”

“I can’t believe this.” You stood and pretended to scold him, “I graciously invite you into my home, and you go and throw straw everywhere! I can’t believe you.”

“It’s hardly my fault.” Jonathan defended, crossing his arms indignantly, “I didn’t choose to throw it everywhere.” You snorted. The place was a mess anyway. You really should have cleaned. You looked at Jonathan even as your smile continued to try and grow.

“What is with this costume?” You couldn’t help the giggle as you gestured, and Jonathan looked at you matter-of-factually.

“It’s meant to be fearsome.”

“The buckles make it look like a straightjacket.” You raised an eyebrow sceptically.

“No they don’t.”

“Yes they do.”

“I’ll have you know that I designed this costume myself, thank you very much.” Jonathan leant forward a little.

“I can tell.” You copied the movement.

The two of you stared for a moment, then Jonathan smiled and gave a faint chuckle.

“I had almost forgotten how annoyingly witty you could be.”

“I try.” You smiled.