#hes the opposite of a scarecrow

[why-bless-your-heart]

“How come in The Nightmare Before Christmas Jack hates Oogie Boogie,” well you see, Jack is a skelliton and Oogie Boogie is bugs and I can see there being a grudge there.

[blueish-bird]

Denji, Power, and Aki are like a hype house for ppl who don’t know what hair conditioner is.

[heatherxandxhollyxberries]

Why is the zombie guy the best part of Hocus Pocus omg

[inamindfarfaraway]

Batman fun fact! Did you know that Scarecrow’s toxin doesn’t always cause fear? Sometimes it does the opposite! In Detective Comics #571, he wields a variant that completely inhibits the biochemical fear response, preventing people from feeling any concern for themselves or using basic common sense. He runs a racket administering it to star athletes, who take huge risks and get badly injured. Then they’re willing to cough up a lot for an antidote. Batman and Robin - here Jason Todd - catch on, but Bruce is dosed with the reverse fear toxin; since his intelligence is his greatest strength, being too overconfident and reckless to think twice about anything makes him his own worst enemy.

This premise was adapted in the Batman: The Animated Series episode “Never Fear”. There we see that with no fear of losing his moral integrity, Bruce becomes cold and merciless to criminals. Robin - here Tim Drake - has to catch somebody he leaves to fall off a building, tie him up to stop him endangering himself and others and give him the antidote to prevent him murdering Scarecrow.

But in the comic book, Jason is kidnapped by Scarecrow. (He gets gassed, and hallucinates Bruce dying and telling him that it was his fault.) He isn’t around to keep Bruce in check as he goes to rescue him through a series of death traps that he can’t resist cutting it as close as possible in. So how does Bruce not go off the deep end? How does he not lose sight of what’s important? Not lose himself?

Because even a drug designed to shut down stress at the most fundamental level can’t overpower his true worst fear. The Dark Knight might feel fearless…

but a parent never is.

[flamingpudding]

Inherited Driving

A/N: Credits also to @escelia 💖 Thanks for helping flash out this idea even more!!

Bruce Wayne was going crazy about Gotham's newest rogue. He stared at the open case file, the reports were laid out all over the table. On the Batcomputer various images were displayed. Images from bent light posts, street sights that were found three blocks from their original position, buildings that were missing chunks of their walls, and even buildings that had distinct car-shaped holes.

Next to that various reports were open about hit-and-run cases. None appeared to be connected. All the victims appeared to be chosen at random, good or bad didn't matter. No connections. Mugger, Politicians, other rogues, or even his children when on patrol. And then there were also reports of apparently people going insane claiming they had seen a silver car come right at them but never hit them.

He looked at the reports of his children.

Jason complains about a drug deal busted by a car bursting in and nearly ruined it for him by knocking out the main targets before crashing through the opposite wall.

Tim claimed that the corrupted CEO he had been investigating both as Red Robin as well as Tim Drake-Wayne got run over on the open streets and was now hospitalized.

But the most absurd reports came from Dick and Duke.

Dick one night reported that a silver car barely missed him while out on patrol. Nothing strange so far. If his son hadn't reported that he was jumping over roofs when it happened.

And Duke? He just reported that he felt like he had a near-death experience and saw his life flashing before his eyes. The cause? A glowing car came straight at him.

Bruce gripped his hair in frustration. This new rogue didn't make sense. They went for bad guys but also good guys? What was their pattern? The connection? Their goal? Was he lucky that none of his other children had so far encountered them on patrol?

They appeared at night as well as during the day.

Who was going to be the next target? Would it be one of his kids or possibly another corrupted politician or maybe even a mugger again next?

Tim had specifically created software to keep track of this rogue in the news or any online posts. Barbara was not able to get any video feeds or photos of this rogue for some reason. All images or videos found for the areas of his appearance were either entirely static or corrupted to the point of unrecognizability. He didn't even have the damned silver car's license plate!

Then there was the car driver's description from witnesses, which also varied from person to person. One stated him to be black-haired and blue-eyed looking like a tired College Student, another stated the man had white hair and green glowing eyes and lastly a more crazy person stated it was like an Eldritch being possessing the car.

The software peeped and Bruce turned to click on it, a news article appeared and the man groaned at what he read.

Breaking news: Scarecrow in custody after getting hit by car through Starbucks!

Witnesses say that during what was shaping up to be a fear gas attack, the driver hit the man before swerving through the front window of a Starbucks.After confirming everyone was okay, the baristas on shift gave the driver an iced coffee and a croissant while waiting for the police to arrive on scene. One employee even insisted this reckless driver saved their lives. [...]

Bruce closed the news, not reading any further and ready to slam his head onto the table. Who was this rogue?

Danny blinked at the newspaper in his hand, sipping his coffee and wondering who that driver was. He would have to be more careful now on the streets with a driver like that, that's fine. Jazz wouldn't probably call him soon again to nag about these crazy drivers Gotham appeared to have. She had been naggingly worried ever since he started going to college here. He just had to assure her that he would be even more careful to not get involved. Though his parents had already reinforced his car as a stay-safe-son measure. So he would just have to get in the car, drive from point A to point B and not hit anyone or anything like his parents.

He glanced at his kitchen clock and spat out his morning coffee.

"Shit! I am going to be late for my classes!"

In a rush he grabed his keys and ran to his car. He needed to hurry if he wanted to be there in time without upsetting his professor. Good that he learned about some pretty neat short cuts from his classmates.

[cheriecelestial]

Batboys as Desi Films

𝐃𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐬𝐨𝐧

Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge (1995)

Raj and Simran meet during a trip across Europe and end up getting stranded in the middle of nowhere after they miss their train. Despite their initial clashing, they fall in love. However, Simran’s traditional father has arranged her marriage elsewhere. Raj must win over Simran’s family to marry her, leading to a series of heartfelt moments, comedic misunderstandings, and ultimately, a dramatic climax where love conquers all as the couple fights for their happiness against societal norms.

Dick is so raj coded with his quips and charisma. Their chaotic banter and chemistry is off the charts. Any Indian who hasn’t watched this gets their desi card revoked immediately, I don’t make the rules. This movies fits Dick’s dramatic flair perfectly.

𝐉𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐨𝐝𝐝

Goliyon ki Raasleela Ram-Leela (2013)

The modern adaptation of William Shakespeare’s “Romeo and Juliet,” set in rural Gujarat, India. It follows the love story of Ram, from the Rajadi clan and Leela, from the Sanera clan, who belong to rival gangster clans engaged in a long-standing feud. Despite the enmity between their families, Ram and Leela fall deeply in love, leading to a tragic and tumultuous journey filled with passion, violence, and sacrifice.

It fits Jason’s love for guns and classics. An absolute visual treat with cinematography and all the songs are absolute bangers.

𝐓𝐢𝐦 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐤��

Jab We Met (2007)

Aditya, a heartbroken business tycoon, someone who was dwelling in the lowest ebb of his life and was almost on the brink of giving it all up, aimlessly boards a train to escape his depressing life. On his journey he meets Geet, a talkative and vivacious young woman. Geet is on her way to meet her boyfriend, but her plans go awry, and she ends up stranded. Aditya, feeling sorry for her, decides to help her get to her destination safely. Along the way, they encounter various adventures and challenges that bring them closer together. Despite their contrasting personalities, they develop a deep connection. However, when they part ways, Aditya realizes his love for Geet and sets out to find her. In the end, they reunite, realizing they are meant to be together.

Grumpy x sunshine. The OG green flag. Epitome of ‘if he wanted to,he would’. Makes my chatterbox heart happy because of how much I relate to the FL. Favourite comfort movie of all time. ML kinda looks like Cillian Murphy’s scarecrow. “I like you a lot but that is my problem, you don’t need to worry about it.” Their fights and his little sassy comebacks and rants were so cute and fun to watch.

𝐃𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐖𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞

Jodhaa Akbar (2003)

The Mughal emperor Akbar, seeking to forge political alliances, marries Jodhaa, a Rajput princess. Initially a marriage of convenience, their relationship evolves as they learn to respect and love each other. Jodhaa struggles to adapt to Mughal customs, especially with their cultural and religious differences but her courage and integrity win Akbar's admiration. Despite conspiracies and opposition, including from Akbar's own court, their love prevails. The film explores the transformation of a young ruler, initially groomed for ruthlessness by his mentor Bairam Khan, into a wise and compassionate emperor who values mercy, diplomacy, religious harmony and cultural acceptance. Akbar's realization of the importance of religious tolerance, showcased through his abolition of discriminatory policies and his respect for all faiths.

The arranged marriage tag and the ‘raised as a weapon but softens and shows more compassion out of respect and love for his empress’ tag fits demonhead!Damian so much. The way he said mashallah after he pulled off her veil in the middle of a sword fight >>>>. I love how it captures the essence of India’s rich heritage and diversity. “Why seek paradise ? It is before me now.”

𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞

Khoobsurat (2014)

Milli, a free-spirited and eccentric young woman becomes the physiotherapist for a royal family. She brings her lively yet clumsy personality into the conservative royal household, shaking up their structured lives. It clashes with the formal atmosphere of the palace, especially with the stern matriarch, Nirmala Devi. Despite initial resistance, Milli's unconventional methods bring joy and laughter into the lives of the family members, including the brooding prince, Vikram. As Milli navigates the challenges of fitting into the royal household, she also finds herself falling in love with Vikram, leading to a series of comedic and heartwarming moments.

Very cliched (well it is a Disney film) and the second hand embarrassment is unreal but sometimes after a long day all you need is a feel-good cheesy rom-com. Oh to sit next to Fawad Khan in a red convertible while gazing lovingly at him. I like how she emphasises on improving the patient’s mental health to help him heal. Incase you haven’t noticed already, cold brooding™️ x silly goose is my favourite character dynamic.

𝐀/𝐍 - I’ll be honest with y’all, this was to satiate my desire of writing x desi! reader cuz I don’t have enough motivation or time to do it T^T

[byers-bowlcut]

Mike’s love for El being platonic, and not romantic, and realizing it over the course of season 3 reconciles nearly every contradiction with his behaviour.

He stands like a gay scarecrow as she kisses him in front of Will’s closet. That's him realizing that when he blurted out "I love her and I can't lose her again!" he meant it platonically. But her saying "ily too” WAS CLEARLY NOT PLATONIC, so now he’s left very confused (If he was simply shocked by the fact that she overheard him, he would’ve been surprised initially, and then kissed her back, and been all emotional and happy. But he wasnt.) 

In fact he probably realized his heart fluttered when Will said “not possible” to him in the scene literally 1 minute prior, but NOT when his gf was attempting to make out with him? That’s clearly a problem! lol

This leads flawlessly into season 4.

Mike has apparently been refusing to even write the word 'love’ in his letters for 6 whole months. Why? Cause he didn't want them to look like love letters.

Meanwhile, he’s jealous of Will painting something for a girl. So he argues with Will about growing apart.

El argues with him about not saying ily. In the fight, he deflects romantic connotations with words like “care” and superhero idolization that he seems suuuper into this season.

He NODS when Will says “What if they don’t like the truth?”. That’s him thinking “Yeah, El won’t like the truth that I don't return her romantic feelings.”

In the van, he says their meeting was dumb luck and anyone could've been there for her that night. That’s hinting that he was just being a decent human. Not that it was a fated love at first sight meeting.

Then Will says, “You’re afraid of losing her”. And THAT is the true issue here.

This whole concept of ‘losing El’ (be it in relationship/daily life, or in death), is scary to Mike, because of what he went through seasons 1-2. At 12 years old, he saw another kid that he developed a bond with, die right in front of his freaking eyes. But they didn’t have a body or anything. So Mike kept getting signs and intuitive feelings that she was still alive. So he questioned his own sanity. For a WHOLE YEAR. Can you imagine how traumatic that is? And then for a kid that age?? That’s exactly why he develops an unhealthy codependency with her in Season 3. And we see it have a negative impact on the unity of the party, and on Will.

But a traumatic response doesn’t change the fact that Season 3 transitions us through the party’s puberty and growth into teenage hood. 

And because of said puberty, Mike starts to realize what actual attraction towards someone is, or in this case… isnt.

Like if we think about the first two seasons, for a 12-13 year old living in that type of society, era, and a picture perfect white suburban American family, it would’ve been really really hard to figure it out back then! Like simply becoming very close friends with the opposite gender caused everyone (cough Nancy cough Lucas) to tell him that “ooooh you must like her”. So yeah, he thinks “I really must like her”. Because he does! He just can’t separate it from actual romantic attraction at that point due to age, and strong heteronormative standards, and no role models like Jonathan telling him “it’s okay to stray from the norm bro”. So of course he acts on it? That’s the NORM. He’s like, “You’re supposed to take a girl you like to the ball”, “We're supposed like girls now”, “This is what growing up means”, “This what old people do”. Like HELLO? Mike says stuff similar to that constantly. Dustin and Lucas do not. So yeah, it can be easily be read as heteronormativity. Not romantic attraction!

And so despite wanting to spend every day in the summer with El because of copious amounts of trauma from S1-2, he can’t continue believing its romantic attraction when his hormones say otherwise. 

Like just look at their kissing scenes S3-4:

Seasons 3 starts with him pulling her hands OFF of him when kissing. He’s voluntarily kissing her instead of spending time with his friends, cause he thinks that’s what he’s supposed to do as he’s “not a kid anymore!”, yet he’s evidently not even enjoying it if he’s taking her hands off lol. Then by the end of the season he doesn’t even kiss back, and has his eyes wide open. Then six months later, when he’s way more self aware of his own feelings, this dude wears SUNGLASSES to the airport. We (and all the characters there) can’t even see his true expression when kissing her. And what’s more, he puts the bouquet of flowers between their bodies, to SEPARATE FASTER. When he could’ve very easily put that hand/arm around her, not between them (that's what he does with his other hand holding the bags).  

And all of this: all this repression, the contradictions, the unsaid things... it all culminates to the monologue. Will told Mike in the van that El really needed him. And then Will reminds him of this again when El is in the piggyback, cause Will is annoying! (jokes lol). So of course, all rationality, all of Mike's realizations or progression, goes out the window. After all, he is THE HEART. He is needed by her. He can’t go through what he went through in season 1-2 again! It doesn’t matter if it’s not totally true. He needs to tell her what she wants to hear so she won’t DIE. The stakes are extremely high. So he delivers. He even takes all his knowledge of mediocre romance stories, and blurts out that it was love at first sight. It's silly to us the audience, cause if you actually go back and watch season 1 you can see that it's not even fucking true. 

So why would he lie? Well because he doesn’t KNOW when he fell in love with El. Because he never fell in love with her. So yeah. It’s PLATONIC with a capital P.

(And to add a cherry on top, he gives his sister’s ring to her jfc) 

[strangeshoepatrolbandit]

Brotherly Love Pt.3 J.T

Jason Todd x Al-Ghul/Wayne reader(platonic). Gender Neutral.

Brotherly Love Masterlist<-- Right here

Summary: Jason picks you up from school after Alfred and Bruce are busy.

Warnings: insecurity, scars, mentions Scarecrow, briefly mentions killing.

~☆~

Bruce had enrolled you and Damian into some higher-up Gotham Schooling, Damian had made nothing but threats to Bruce when the day came and ignored you throughout everything.

On the first few days, you and Damian were swarmed with people trying to befriend you, more like befriend Bruce Wayne's children, other than actually wanting to be YOUR friend. The two of you had done nothing but push them away and avoid their questions, however, Damian and yourself had found yourselves into respective friend groups.

Damian looked miserable throughout most of the school days, sitting at his desk bored out of his mind, however if you looked closely at him you would be able to see the fond look in his eyes when looking at his friends.

You yourself had been adopted into a group of two other people, the first one of them that you had met was Reign, he had been grouped with you in science, he was shy and smart. He had offered you to sit with him and a friend at lunch so you could continue your work. You accepted, and there you met the other piece of your group, Penelope.

She was the opposite of Reign, outgoing, you had noticed this when she smiled and shook your hand erratically, whereas Reign's hand was sweaty and barely touched your own.

The three of you had bonded that day, not once did they mention your father, just tried to get to know you personally. Reign kept inviting you to sit with him and Penelope, where over the days you developed a friendship with them, which eventually led to you having their numbers on your phone that Bruce gave you for "emergencies", and hanging out at their houses.

It was nice to finally have people that you could be loved by, people who actually like you.

Over time the school gave you and Damian pamphlets for after-school activities, Penelope begged you to join her in the Theater club, and Reign even tried talking you into photography. Bruce pushed you and Damian to engage in at least one activity, even if it was just for a week, and ultimately you joined Penelope.

~☆~

Bruce had informed you this morning that you would be getting picked up from school by one of your bothers, Bruce himself would be busy in a meeting and Alfred would be meeting up with an old friend.

Damian would be heading home at a normal time, whereas you were staying behind to help on set for an upcoming play.

~☆~

You walked down the halls with Penelope by your side, her blonde hair bounced as she skipped, her voice echoed off of the walls as she spoke, her upbeat voice filled you with serenity as she told you about things going on in the world. The two of you exited the front doors of the school, pausing at the stairs for a second to bask in the little bit of sun that Gotham rarely brung.

"Is that your brother?" Penelope quizzed as she marveled at him, her eyes shining as she stared at him.

You turned to look across the street, where one of your father's cars sat. Jason rested against it, his ankles were crossed, and he was staring down at the phone that rested in his hand.

As if he had some sixth sense he looked up after sensing eyes on himself, a smile broke out on his face as he pushed himself off of the car, with the raise of an arm he waved.

"Wellll I better get going." Penelope smiled, dragging out the L in her words.

"Yeah." You whispered still staring at Jason.

"Bye!" She beamed, leaning over to engulf you in a hug before running off to find her way home.

Your feet moved on their own as they led you across the street towards Jason, his smile widening the closer you got.

"Hey." Jason greeted as he slapped a hand onto your back.

You let out a tight smile as you acknowledged him, before getting into the passenger seat of the car. Jason sat himself down in the driver's seat, and glanced over at you one last time before driving away.

...

You and Jason sat in silence until he reached for the radio, and an upbeat techno song came on. Your eyebrows knit together as Jason smiled and danced to the music, his sixth sense kicked in again as he glanced at you, now singing the words to the song on the radio.

"This is Lady Gaga." Jason yelled over the music, laughing to himself when you shot him another judgemental look.

"You hungry?" He asked, eyes darting from the road to look at you once again.

"Yes." You sighed, subconsciously smiling to yourself as the thought of food came up.

Jason's eyes lingered on your face as he seen a smile spread on it, his own face mirrored your own in that very moment.

~☆~

Jason turned the car off after he pulled into Batburger, he ushered you out of the car and held the door open as you walked in. Jason asked for your order and told you to find a place to sit whilst he got your food.

You sat down at a table next to the front door and stared at Jason's back, watching as he talked to the cashier.

Even in times like this your mind still found ways to taunt you, making you think of all of your faults. You thought about Damian, how you wished he would apologize to you, at least acknowledge you.

You noticed Damians friends would give you snarky looks when you passed them in the halls, did Damian say stuff about you, or did he even know? The thought of your beloved twin brother saying things behind your back left a pit in your stomach, you've watched people die but the thought of Damian hating you left you with feelings of dread.

Jason slamming a tray onto the table brought you out of your thoughts, he smiled down at you as he placed your food in front of you. He himself finally sat in the chair across from you after placing his food down as well, he watched as you unwrapped your food before doing the same to his own.

As Jason ate his food you noticed a plastic bag, one that you knew didn't hold food. Now curious you picked it up, noting down that there was something hard inside. Your fingers worked at the plastic bag, attempting to open it. Once it was finally opened you took out the object inside, it was a figurine, it had a brown leather jacket and a Red Head.

"Is this you?" You whisper yelled to Jason, watching as a big smile overtook his face before nodding his head and taking another bite of his burger.

~☆~

After you and Jason got done eating you climbed back into the car and started your journey to the Manor. This time no music played as the two of you sat in a uncomfortable silence, you turned your head to eye Jason, watching his body as it breathed and how his eyes stared at the road.

As you looked at Jason you were tempted to ask where his scars came from, of course you know what he does, you yourself have a few from the work you did back at your home. Bruce and Dick even have a plethora of scars along their bodies, just like Tim who has a long noticeable scar along his forearm.

Jason broke the silence with a question. "So how's school?"

"Good." You lied, it would be much better with Damian.

"Any friends?" He asked hoping for an answer even though he had seen Penelope hug you as she left.

"Yeah, Reign and Penelope." You confessed, signing as you thought about the two of them.

"That's good." He hummed, liking the thought of you having friends.

"There's this girl in my theater class as well." You whispered, Jason perked up and let out a teasing "ohhh".

You let out a laugh before shaking your head "Not like that." You stated, staring out of the window next to you with a smile on your face.

The car fell back into silence as you and Jason collectively dropped the topic of school, your brain racked through topics that you thought would keep Jason talking, before landing on one.

"So what happened with Scarecrow?" You questioned, remembering about the case he, your other brothers, and your father worked on the last time you saw Jason.

"He just tweaked his fear gas." Jason sighed, thinking about how his weekend with the madman had gone.

You let out a hum to signify that you understood.

"Plus, I guess you'd also want to kill something if you thought it was after you." Jason humored, laughing to himself before abruptly shutting up and knitting his eyebrows.

The third silence of the evening filtered back into the car, wrapping its hands around your throat as it did so. This time Jason was trying to grasp onto a topic that would fill in the empty spaces around the two of you.

Jason's mouth moved faster than his brain as the one question he wanted to ask you briefly came to mind.

"Whats wrong?" He asked, like he could see through you and into your thoughts.

The question caught you off guard as it came from him, and your eyes widened as you stared at the side of his face. Your brain came rushing with answers to give him, should you lie and say you're fine, or should you finally tell someone about how you feel?

...

"I don't know, I just feel like I'm not" you paused looking for the right word "good?"

Jason's face portrayed Suprise as you finally answered him, he stayed quiet trying to find the right words to say himself. Jason turned the car off as the two of you finally pulled into Wayne Manor, before the man next to you could even get out something to say you hurriedly reached for the door handle next to you and opened the door.

"Thank you for picking me up, and thank you for the food." You quickly told him, before shutting the door behind you and running into the Manor.

Jason pulled the car into the garage of the Manor, his brain thinking over what you said, he sees so much of himself in you it truly hurts him. Even if you just came into his life, you are his dear little sibling and he loves you, your pain brings him anguish.

~☆~

Bear with me guys. I'm not gonna lie when I got the idea for this series I was just gonna make it a short story about Damian and the reader's relationship deteriorating.

I hope this is a good filler to keep you guys happy!<3

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[nocturnest]

The y/n that nervously asks if she can marry Jonathan instead of death or exile, would be the opposite of Jonathan, she’s shy and sweet, and Jonathan would find her puppy dog eyes to be so cute that he can’t help himself but to agree which is why he’s just like, “Hmm. Interesting. Why not”

@kpopgirlbtssvt This is one of my absolute favorites now! ahhh! please enjoy!

In the dimly lit chamber of an abandoned courthouse, Jonathan Crane, Gotham's infamous Scarecrow, held court with an air of authority that sent shivers down the spines of those gathered before him. The room buzzed with nervous anticipation as citizens awaited their fates, their faces drawn with fear and uncertainty.

You, amidst the sea of anxious onlookers, found yourself unable to contain a nervous laugh as the tension in the room weighed heavily on you. You were on trial for attempting to steal from the city's food stash, which Bane had accumulated for criminals and the like. It wasn't exactly your fault - you were desperate. You just wish you hadn't been so foolish to have gotten caught.

As you were shoved into a brown leatherback chair, you observed your surroundings. Criminals of all kinds gave you harsh looks of disgust and disapproval. They looked practically ravenous and hungry for a new form of entertainment, which some of them had found in you. Their attention made you uncomfortable.

You gazed up at the stand and your eyes widened in surprise. You'd heard rumors, to be sure, but you had never seen Jonathan Crane in person. And even from afar, you could see the bright blues of his eyes, like a beacon of hope in this horrendous situation that you found yourself in.

He looked bored, glasses in his hand as he cleaned its lenses. A lackey of his taps him on the shoulder and Jonathan rolls his eyes, putting his glasses on to read the papers in front of him.

He clears his throat and announces your name, which sends shivers down your spine. His voice was gravelly and hoarse from yelling yet calming all the same. You find yourself wishing you had met him under other circumstances.

"Guilty of attempting to steal food from the people of Gotham. Now what will it be, Death or Exile?"

"Isn't there another option?! I mean...can't I just marry you instead?" you blurted out, the words escaping your lips before you could stop them. Your attempt at humor was feeble, a desperate bid to lighten the oppressive atmosphere.

To your surprise, Jonathan's sharp gaze snapped in your direction, his pale blue eyes glittering with intrigue. "Hmm, interesting. Why not?" he responded, his voice carrying an unexpected hint of amusement.

Your heart skipped a beat at his unexpected reply, your mind reeling with disbelief. Surely he couldn't be serious. But, before you could gather your thoughts, Jonathan pressed on with his characteristic bluntness. "Would you rather death or exile?" he inquired, his tone matter-of-fact yet oddly playful.

Caught off guard by his question, you stumbled over your words, unable to form a coherent response. "...No," you managed to mumble, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

"Great," Jonathan exclaimed, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes, "Exile! By marriage."

With a swift motion of his gavel, Jonathan sealed your fate. He beckoned you forward with a wave of his hand, his expression betraying a hint of sly amusement.

You padded across the room cautiously as a wave of confusion swept across the spectators, who watched in bewilderment as Jonathan Crane orchestrated an impromptu wedding ceremony in the midst of what was supposed to be a trial. As you approached the judge's area, the whispers of the onlookers swirled around you like a whirlwind of uncertainty.

Jonathan took your hand in his. It was soft and warm. The emotions in his face were guarded but you could see what seemed like sympathy in his eyes, as if he knew you knew how you were feeling - with being married to a complete stranger and all that.

Though, you weren't entirely complaining...Jonathan was much taller up close and practically towered over you. Not to mention, he was quite attractive. His eyes were as clear as ocean waters and his brown hair looked so soft that you fought the urge to run your hands through it. His suit was tattered and feathers were sewn into it, its cut tailored remarkably well to his figure.

As you stood beside Jonathan, his grip firm yet oddly comforting, he began to recite the vows with a surprising eloquence. His voice, smooth and commanding, filled the room as he spoke of love, commitment, and partnership. You found yourself mesmerized by his words, drawn into the enchanting rhythm of his speech.

As the ceremony continued, you couldn't help but marvel at the absurdity of the situation. Here you were, standing in a courtroom turned makeshift wedding chapel, about to marry a man you barely knew—all under the watchful eyes of a room full of criminals.

And yet, despite the unconventional circumstances, there was something undeniably captivating about Jonathan. His confidence, his intelligence, his sheer audacity—all combined to form an irresistible allure that left you spellbound.

As Jonathan pronounced you husband and wife, a sense of disbelief washed over you. You stole a glance at him, unable to suppress the awe flickering in your eyes. How could one man possess so many talents, wear so many hats? Psychologist, villain, minister, judge—each role seemed incongruous with the next, and yet, Jonathan Crane embodied them all with effortless grace.

As the ceremony concluded, Jonathan flashed you a grin that sent a shiver down your spine. His eyes sparkled with mischief as if he knew the effect he had on you. You gave him a shy smile in return.

Your brief moment of peace was interrupted by Bane, who had a foreboding presence about him. He was large, and the breathing mask that masked most of his face intimidated you.

Suprisingly, he seemed to be in good spirits, his deep voice booming, "Now is a time for celebration! Let the newlyweds have the day off and trials shall commence again tomorrow."

As Bane's booming voice echoed through the room, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over you. With the trials postponed, you and Jonathan were free to escape the chaos of the courtroom and retreat to the sanctuary of his world.

Jonathan led you out of the courtroom, his hand warm against yours as he guided you through the labyrinthine corridors of the building. As you stepped out into the crisp night air, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the back of your mind. Bane's presence had cast a shadow over the proceedings, his intimidating figure a stark reminder of the dangers that lurked in the shadows of Gotham.

But as you climbed into Jonathan's car and he started the engine, the tension began to melt away. The warmth of the car enveloped you, cocooning you in a sense of security as Jonathan navigated the familiar streets of the city.

As Jonathan drove you through the bustling streets of Gotham, you couldn't help but get lost in your thoughts. What now?

Jonathan's voice broke the silence, his tone gentle yet reassuring. "You're safe now," he said, his gaze flickering to meet yours briefly before returning to the road ahead. "I'll make sure of that."

You offered him a grateful smile, though the weight of the situation still hung heavy in the air between you. The thought of being married to Jonathan—albeit in name only—was both exhilarating and daunting. You couldn't deny the attraction you felt towards him, the magnetic pull that seemed to draw you closer with each passing moment.

As you arrived at Jonathan's surprisingly luxurious apartment, you couldn't help but be impressed by the opulence of his surroundings. The spacious living room was bathed in warm light, casting soft shadows across the elegant furnishings.

The warm glow of the lights bathed the room in a comforting ambiance, momentarily easing the tension that still lingered in the air.

Jonathan led you further into the apartment, his demeanor calm and collected as he gestured for you to take a seat on the plush sofa. As you settled in, he turned to face you, his expression thoughtful.

"Listen," Jonathan began, his voice gentle yet firm, "about what happened back there... The marriage isn't official unless I make it so. I don't have to, but only if you want me to."

You blinked, taken aback by his words. "But why would you even consider it?" you asked, confusion evident in your tone.

Jonathan's lips curled into a sly smile as he tilted his head, his gaze piercing yet playful. "Ah, now that's the question, isn't it?" he replied, his voice laced with intrigue. "Why were you so ready to marry me, hm?"

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as Jonathan's playful gaze seemed to penetrate straight through you. "I... I don't know," you stammered, feeling completely out of your depth. "I mean, it was just a joke... I didn't think you'd actually..."

Jonathan chuckled softly, his laughter echoing in the quiet apartment. "Perhaps it was more than just a joke," he mused, his tone teasing yet strangely sincere. "After all, why else would you propose marriage to a man you barely know?"

You shifted uncomfortably under his scrutinizing gaze, unable to meet his eyes. "I... I guess I was just caught up in the moment," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "You're... you're not like anyone I've ever met before. And when you looked at me in the court, I don't know, something just... clicked."

Jonathan's expression softened, a hint of warmth creeping into his eyes. "You find me intriguing, don't you?" he observed, his voice low and measured. "Admit it, there's something about me that draws you in."

You swallowed hard, unable to deny the truth of his words. "Yes," you whispered, your admission hanging in the air between you. "Yes, there is."

A knowing smile tugged at the corners of Jonathan's lips as he reached out to gently brush a stray lock of hair from your face. "Then perhaps this marriage isn't such a far-fetched idea after all," he murmured, his voice barely audible above the soft hum of the city outside. "But only if you want it to be real."

Jonathan's fingers lingered on your cheek, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. You could feel the weight of his gaze, as if he was searching your soul for answers.

Taking a deep breath, you mustered the courage to speak. "I don't know what I want," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "But I do know that being with you feels... different. Exciting, even."

A soft smile graced Jonathan's lips, his eyes reflecting a mixture of understanding and something else, something deeper. "Then let's take it one step at a time," he suggested, his tone gentle yet reassuring.

You couldn't help but return his smile, feeling a sense of warmth spreading through you at his suggestion. "Dinner sounds wonderful" you replied, your voice tinged with anticipation.

~

Jonathan was methodical in the kitchen. You insisted on helping him, but he assured you he could manage. Rather, Jonathan urged you to explore his bookcases after hearing you mention that you enjoyed reading.

He directed you to the room that he considered his library. At which you muttered, "Of course, you have a library." He merely grinned at that. Even though you had just met the man, the room seemed so remarkably him.

The library was a reflection of Jonathan Crane's meticulous nature and intellectual depth. As you stepped into the room, your eyes were immediately drawn to the hundreds of books lining the shelves, meticulously organized by genre and subject matter. There were classics, modern literature, and an extensive collection of texts on psychology, each spine neatly aligned in perfect rows.

The air was imbued with the scent of aged paper and leather bindings, creating an atmosphere of quiet reverence. Soft light filtered through the windows, casting a warm glow over the room and illuminating the countless volumes that filled the space.

You ran your fingers along the spines of the books, marveling at the wealth of knowledge contained within their pages. Your gaze lingered on a particular title, Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky, a classic novel that seemed to echo the complexities of the world you found yourself in. You had read it countless times before. You, like Raskolnikov, had found yourself on trial for criminal acts, except that stealing food and committing flat-out murder, like Raskolnikov had, weren't exactly comparable. Nevertheless, his story of redemption and overcoming guilt after such an act continually resonated with you.

You settled into a chair and found yourself whisked away into the novel. Lost in thought, you barely noticed Jonathan's presence until you felt his eyes on you. Turning, you found him leaning against the doorway, his expression unreadable yet open and somehow inviting. There was a quiet intensity in his gaze as he watched you.

You marked your page with a spare slip of paper you found in your pocket (rather than dog-earing the antique book like a heathen) and felt Jonathan's gaze upon you.

"Find anything interesting?" he asked, his voice quiet yet filled with genuine curiosity.

You turned to face him, holding up the copy of Crime and Punishment. "Just considering some light reading," you replied with a hint of amusement, feeling a warmth spreading through you at his presence.

Jonathan chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "An excellent choice," he remarked, stepping further into the room to join you. "Dostoevsky certainly had a way of delving into the depths of human nature."

You nodded, feeling a sense of camaraderie in your shared appreciation for literature. "It's fascinating how universal and timeless his insights are," you mused, trailing your fingers along the rows of books.

Jonathan's gaze softened as he watched you, his expression thoughtful. "Indeed," he agreed, his voice tinged with a hint of what might have been nostalgia. "There's a certain comfort in knowing that some truths remain constant, no matter the passage of time."

He reaches his hand out, inviting you to join him for dinner. You place your hand in his. You and him discuss your lives and interests over dinner and it feels like you have always known each other.

~

It's late. You don't quite know what time it is, and all you do know is you can't sleep. Rain patters on the windows of what is now your room. You have a nice view and notice that the city is less lit than usual. It seems that most people have either fled or gone into hiding, if they haven't already been taken by Bane's men.

You can't help but feel unease. Maybe it's the whole situation, or being in the menacing presence of Bane, even if only for a short time. But you can't help thinking about your apartment or the friends you haven't seen in months. You wonder if the elderly neighbor of yours who you often check on and her cat are alright.

You pad through the room feeling chilly. You pull on the sleeves of your sweatshirt. Jonathan gave you some of his clothes in the meantime, or at least until you both can stop by your apartment for your things. You're thankful for him being so accommodating but have a small internal voice that tells you that you're intruding, that you're a burden to him.

As you approach Jonathan's room, you hesitate at the doorway, feeling a sense of guilt for even considering disturbing his sleep. But then you remember the kindness he's shown you, the way he's gone out of his way to make you feel safe and comfortable. With a soft sigh, you push open the door and step inside.

Jonathan stirs from his slumber as you enter, his eyes fluttering open to meet yours. His hair is tousled and his eyes are like beacons in the night. There's a moment of silence as he takes in your presence, his gaze softening with understanding.

"Can't sleep?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nod, unable to find the words to express the turmoil swirling within you.

Without hesitation, Jonathan lifts the covers beside him, inviting you to join him. "Come," he says gently, his expression warm and inviting. "You're not intruding. I want you here."

You hesitate for a moment, your shyness holding you back. But the offer of comfort is too tempting to resist. With a grateful smile, you slide into bed beside him, feeling the warmth of his embrace enveloping you like a protective shield against the darkness outside.

As you nestle against him, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulls you into a sense of peace you haven't felt in a long time. And as you drift off to sleep in his arms, you can't help but feel a glimmer of hope amidst the chaos that surrounds you.

@kiss-me-cill-me hope you enjoy this take on the dark knight rises court scene!

[saintmuses]

❝𝙞𝙣 𝙖 𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩'𝙨 𝙜𝙤𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙨𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙬 𝙢𝙚 𝙪𝙥 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧❞

Pairing:

Jonathan Crane x Abducted!Reader

Summary:

She spent time wondering why she wasn’t handed over to Ra’s al Ghul like a bargaining chip until the actions of Jonathan’s were revealed to her one night.

Warning(s): SMUT. Implied minor age gap. P in V. Jonathan being soft for reader. Abduction. Minors, dni!

Word Count: 2.9k

There was this flame, stronger than any of the fires she would and had witnessed it throughout her life, she would be dumb if she did not recognize the flame that was roaring in many ways between them. After all, there was that particular flame crackling and burning since they met a long time ago before Gotham collapsed even further with Jonathan’s fear toxin.

A dangerous mess that she and Jonathan had made upon the moment they met.

There was a negative aspect to this; no one was here or any limitations to stop the feeling that consumed her for the last few months. The last time she'd experienced it, she felt flickers of it. 

She was a student in Jonathan’s class three years ago during her first year at Gotham University. To her it was the position of authority that oppressed the flickers she felt towards him. They had remained on neutral grounds; he was very stoic towards her that she did not have to worry about crossing the boundaries because she would if he had shown an ounce of interest. It also helped that she was with someone at that time. 

However, it did not stop her wondering of what-ifs after she left his class. Somehow the distance between them other than seeing glimpses of him in the hallways of the campus did not oppress the flickers. Instead, it ignited like it was a gasoline to her feelings towards Jonathan which would be considered already flaming.

Which made the fire more roaring.

It did not really help that his baser, predatory side was preventing her from slipping through the walls of his own creation he had for himself.

It was different last time, it only lasted momentarily when he had softened towards her few and far between after she was done with his class for freshman year. As if the sight of her presence chased away the dark gloomy iciness surrounding his heart. Somehow this time, he hardened himself more whenever he was around her.

It was quite a monstrous thing. His stoic expressions, his words were the buffer to dampen the interactions between them, treating her as if she was a package to be sent to somewhere. She'd suppose she was, after all there was something insidious that caused him to take her that night when Gotham collapsed completely.

It was quite a monstrous thing, to see him being the cold stoic human that he briefly once was when she first met him, and yet the monstrous thing was to feel him touching her skin, lingering as his words did the opposite. 

Cold, sharp, and cutting all at once, and yet warmth, possessive and electrifying too.

In moments like these, his fingers would brush her exposed skin. His cold icy eyes would follow behind, then the moment would be doused by his words.

As if to remind himself she was not worth it. It also did not help the fact she was never been inflicted by the chemicals he had made. Instead, she would notice his eyes tend to get a little dark whenever they linger on the sentiment, and he never lifted a finger to use it on her.

She was determined to put a crack in his armor, shattered beyond the point where he could not put them back together ever again.

She knew he wanted her to see him as a monster, as Scarecrow and not the man. Instead, she saw him as both. Perhaps in another life where she did not know him at all, she would view him permanently as Scarecrow.

It did not help her desires.

Whenever he showed his slightly monstrous side, it was a lure, like a moth to flame. She was drawn to him strongly when he was not disguising himself with farce. She knew he was capable of being a decent man whenever he wanted to be, but he was also a monster as well. The true decency where the monster did not intervene came few and far between.

It was debauching to her because she wanted him. All of him, and his treatment of her; keeping her at distance did not dampen it.

Neither will the flame they danced around since they met the first and the last time.

She was shaken from her reveries when she heard the door closing, following with the shoes touching the hardwood floors as he walked into the living room.

"When will you hand me over to Ra’s al Ghul?” She asked, staring at the book before she closed the binding. She then put it on the coffee table before pushing herself from the plush couch, turning her head to him.

She did go to sleep in her apartment one night only to wake up in his apartment to complete a deal with Ra’s al Ghul, but he had dampened her ideas by holding her hostage after the deadline which was not the plan. She had thought he was willing to hand her over when Ra’s al Ghul came to town that occurred two months ago, but she found out he had not said a word to Ra’s al Ghul’s lackeys hence holding her hostage longer.

"When it's time," he said stoically, eyes burning ice into her soul. She blinked away the sensation.

She snorted as she strode over to where he was standing which was not far from the couch. "You had time to do it weeks ago." She spat, reminding him as the incredulity coated her tone. She stared at him. "You need me alive so you can lure your Ra’s al Ghul out of his hiding spot, so you can complete whatever bargaining with him which should've happened two weeks ago." She hissed, her eyes narrowing into a glare before continuing. "I'm trying to prevent the catastrophic mess that could happen if you don't hand me over to him!"

He only looked at her with a slight amusement in his depths, which only made her more frustrated.

She crossed her arms, "do you even have the bargaining chip?" She questioned him, gritting her teeth.

He inclined his head. "Yes," he answered noncommittally. 

She scoffed, staring at him in disbelief before she spoke. "Yet, I don't see myself gone or dead." She did fight him like a vicious cat when she woke up in his place, but she was used to it by now.

Before she could breathe another word, he had his hand in her hair, fingers intertwining her strands before jerking her head back. She nearly gasped in surprise. Her neck was craning, but not painful as he asserted his power over her.

"Don't tempt me," he growled, his eyes flashing as coldness seeped into his gaze as his irises darkened in a true predator fashion with anger, the muscles underneath his skin around his jaw began to flex under strain as he stared down at her.

She stared up at him with fascination. It was the first time he ever showed his unhinged side. He eluded control and power with violence in disguise of soft words.

It was quite a monstrous thing. 

God help her, but she wanted him to consume her. 

"Then what do you want?" She growled at him. "You've got the fear toxin, you've got me, and I'm sure you can find a way to lure him out here.” She ticked off the vitality of the bargaining. "So, what the hell do you want!?" She repeated the question.

She heard the rumble in his chest before he snarled out the word, "you!" She reared back in surprise with a little distance due to his hand in her hair. "I want you. I don't want to give you over to Ra’s al Ghul because I want you all to myself."

The silence was loud. Somewhat a suspension in time with waves rushing towards the cliff sides, something like planets heading towards each other in the state of collision, or an atomic bomb aiming towards a piece of land before it exploded.

"Then do it." She breathed, staring at his lips before moving her gaze into his depths.

Then the silence broke, with waves crashing into the cliffs. Planets colliding into pieces, and the atomic bomb exploded with devastating effects.

Without warning, his mouth engulfed hers. Her gasp disappeared into his mouth as he towered over her, his arm that wasn't occupied took place around her waist. His lips devouring hers, tongue swiping across her lips before prying them apart to probe deep into her mouth, she felt herself responding with a level of desperation that shocked her.

His lips felt electrifying and home all at once.

She became aware of her own frantic moans and wondered who she'd become.

The one that met this wretched villainous of a man.

He withdrew from her lips; his hand released her strands as he took a step back. She wanted to protest, but the determined emotion that was painted on his face stopped her from saying something.

She then felt his arm moving across her waist onto her forearm before he gently enclosed his fingers around her hand.

He sat down on the chaise part of the couch before, tugging her towards him. She felt him releasing her hand as his fingers went to the top of his trousers where his belt resided.

A sensation of her abdomen clenching had her in a whirlpool of lust as she gazed at the movement of his hands.

His fingers pulled the leather out from the metal clasp, pulling upward for the pin to be released from the tiny hole before he loosened the metal.

She noticed he was staring at her, "come here." He commanded softly as he unbuttoned the top of his trouser before unzipping.

She breathed in sharply as she took a step closer to him when he lifted his thighs to move his trouser before pushing them off until it reached his knees.

The air became trapped in her lungs when his erection was revealed to her.

How is it going to fit inside her?

It was huge, bigger than her previous partners, and on the longer side. She realized she was becoming aroused from the sight.

Straying her eyes away from his cock. She had just noticed his hands moved until he unbuttoned his white shirt, releasing the buttons from the confinements, baring his chest under her gaze.

He smirked up at her as he leaned forward until his hands curled around her thighs to pull her towards him. She maneuvered her legs until she was sitting on the edge of his knees.

She shivered as his hands then glided upward on her back, warmth seeping into her skin then she raised her arms when he pulled the summer dress off of her, leaving her sitting in her lacy underwear.

He then backtracked his previous path until his fingers curled around her breasts, she moaned slightly, arching her chest as he craned his neck to take one of her nipples into his mouth. Her hands reached for his hair, gasping as he sucked harder, biting slightly before soothing it with his tongue.

His hands withdrew from her breast until they reached for her underwear. She jerked slightly in surprise when she heard and felt the scrap of fabric ripped away from her.

His other hand withdrew from the curve of her butt, then she felt his hand reaching the curve of her thigh, and he then dragged her from his knees to the top of his thighs, smearing her wetness onto his skin as he did so.

He pulled her towards him slightly until she felt the tip of his cock brushed against her lower abdomen, she shuddered at the feeling of it, feeling bold she pushed herself forward until she felt his entire cock onto her skin. It was trapped between her pelvic bone and his stomach.

Her lips curled up when she felt his fingers tightened on her hips as his breathing became ragged. Determined to make him lose control, she inched her hips in the air slightly, and started to glide along his cock, coating it with her wetness.

She then gasped lightly when she felt him pushing her hips down as he thrusted against her. The head of his cock nudged against the nerves of her clit, making her throw her head back.

A moment later, she found herself pressing against the fabric of the couch on her stomach. Her nipples pebbled uncomfortably as it chafed against the fabric.

She could feel his thighs on each side of her thighs, his chest was pressing against her back as he held her arms above her head as if he was caging her in.

His cock sunk into between her thighs, rubbing along her clit as he shifted his hips, not entering her. 

It was quite sensual. Almost as forceful, but so willingly.

He arched his hips just enough after pushing himself up only using her arms as leverage, and she moaned into the fabric as she felt the tip of his cock nudging slightly at the entrance before it pushed into her slowly then withdrew slightly.

Before she could protest, her eyes were glazed over as he pushed back inside her, forcibly thrusting in and out of her pussy. 

She whimpered while he purred deep in his chest, the noise triggered her walls into squeezing convulsively around his cock.

With a growl, he gripped her arms hard, and slammed into her with such brute force that she almost came. A noise escaped from her throat as her body shuddered from his immense size forcing her walls open, reaching her cervix.

Her whole body rocked with the violence of his thrusts. "More," she mumbled into the fabric, begging.

It was a monstrous thing, for her to want more. Somehow it was never enough when it came to him.

It was addicting.

"You're a greedy little thing," he breathed into her ear as he swiveled his hips into her before he bottomed out his cock fully seated inside her, stretching her walls beyond her limits. "So tight," he murmured, she could feel his fingers flexing into her skin, then she felt the slight emptiness as he pulled back slowly. She felt him pause, the head of his cock was nestled in her before he withdrew from her.

"Please don't stop," she whined, high pitched keen erupted from her throat as she felt his fingers pushing into her instead of his cock.

She hadn't realized that he removed one of his hands from her arms until then.

"No one gets to touch this but me," he hissed, pushing his digits into her, curling downward slightly before removing from her. 

She whimpered, her walls clenching the emptiness he left her with other than the fingers at the entrance, "only you." She agreed, nodding into the fabric. 

"Good girl," he rumbled into her ear as he snaked his left arm under her, gliding along her stomach, trailing up between her breasts until he wrapped his hand onto the curve where her neck and the shoulder met, gripping it slightly before trailing his hand towards her forearms, joining his other hand.

He curled his fingers around her skin, briefly pressing his chest against her back before leaning back.

She then moaned, the noise escaped from her lungs when she felt him slamming his hips back into her, forcing his cock into her once again.

She heard him groan, "you feel that?" He asked hoarsely. "You feel how your pussy takes my cock? Inch by inch until there's nothing left." He breathed; lust coated his tongue.

Her breathing hitched as she began to squeeze around his cock involuntarily in response.

She felt his fingers tightening around her wrists as he snarled, "fuck."

"Please, Jon." She whimpered, arching her buttocks into him to start fucking her again.

Wet, sloppy squelching sounds echoed through the room as he slammed into her with brutal heavy thrusts -edging on unhinged speed- that would leave fabric prints into her skin as her body chafed against the couch.

"You belong to me," he growled, grunting slightly. "Do you understand?" Feeling dazed, she nodded into the fabric. "I could have you like this all day, and I'll never get tired of fucking you." She only clenched around him; his hips then sped up. "Owning you, I'll never get tired of it." He grounded the words out through his teeth.

She whined in response, "please. Please" she repeated the word over and over into the fabric igniting a reaction. He exploded inside her with a guttural groan, eliciting a cry of surprise along with climax of pleasure from her when she felt his chest pushing down on her back as he gave up on strength.

He pumped load after load of his thick cum into her. "Fuck. Such a good girl." She nearly preened at his praise after he purred into her ear those words as he rocked his hips in short, jerky movements as he came, not stopping until he emptied inside of her. Until she overflowed with his cum. “You’re dead to the world, no one knows that you’re alive,” he inhaled deeply. “You're never going back, you’re staying here.”

She felt the thick fluids slowly begin to seep out of her, and she heard him chuckling before his hands grasped her hips to turn her over, facing him she sighed in relief as her body released the tension. Opening her eyes, she peered out to see Jonathan’s eyes gazing at hers, and her heart began to hammer as the blood pooled into her cheeks when she saw his lips curled up into a smirk.

[voidlesscreator]

AU where Danny is a stressed college student student aerospace engineering and is caught up in a fear gas attack, but since he's half ghost his biology is slightly fucked up when it comes to drugs and chemicals so it does the exact opposite and he's now as high as a kite while everyone is screaming in fear.

Meanwhile Scarecrow is curious about the young man who started giggling when he inhaled the fear gas and slips a little note into the man's pocket before dipping and the bats show up.

Cue Danny ending as the- actually paid- tester for Dr. Crane's new and other improved gasses which are actually good for him and awful for others. Like one guy is sent into hysterics as everything just hits him all at once, the air being audible, that one flickering light being ear shattering. Meanwhile Danny has just pulled out his notebook for his aerospace engineering class and started writing down new ideas with this sudden hyperfocus that seems chill to him.

This eventually leads to the bats finding out while Danny's just being given vapes filled with that overwhelming gas so that he can actually focus on his exam studying without getting distracted.

(Scarecrow is probably in the giddy stage of a new test subject that has positive feedback for his work. Mans had a contract written up and prescriptions made for Danny to use the gasses legally for himself.)

[parisoonic]

i really wish we got the tf2 tv show because i think, about your talk about how pyro ends up being a foil to the other characters, pyro is such a wildcard of a character that if you need someone for an episode to complete a dynamic it's pyro. he's designated driver. he's the mcdonalds employee. he's scout's ma. she's helping miss p dismember bodies. it's coming in through the dog door

your ask got me thinking about how i'd use pyro in a show and IDK if anyone else has seen Solar Opposites but how they split the Pupa's screentime between A + B plots in the first/second season would be spot on the money for me. Pyro could be there, in the A plot, in small ways (like you said, at the back of the bus or en rotue to the episodes mission) but then gets sucked into a 'mundane' B plot for some tonal levity within the episode. Pyro's gotta run that FTSE 500 company! They've gotta seduce the Ballicorn comic writer in order to read the never-published final issue! They've gotta earn an Astrophysics PHD in order to steal their Professor's Pokemon topped pen....that sort of thing. And then occassionaly they can show up with the deus-ex-mechina for the episode with the rest of the team being none the wiser (other than vaguely baffled as their flamethrower could've REALLY come in handy fighting those haunted scarecrows).

[superbat-love]

Bruce squeezed his eyes shut, attempting to block the overwhelming dark memories. In the background, Scarecrow's cackling echoed, and Bruce struggled to anchor himself in the present. The grating laughter and the pain in his body weren't enough to keep the shadows at bay.

He felt the suffocating despair, cradling his son’s lifeless body in his arms. The pain and fatigue that seeped deep into his bones as he pushed his body to its limit. A voice, burdened with guilt, whispered apologies repeatedly, vowing to prevent such tragedy from happening again.

Something urged him to keep his fear under control, warning of consequences greater than his own well-being. His fears, if unleashed, would fuel a much darker force. So he fought to control his breathing, empty his mind, and slow his racing heart.

The room trembled as the opposite wall crumbled to the ground. When he opened his eyes, a shadowy figure with demonic eyes emerged from the ruins — Superman. Gripping Scarecrow's throat, Superman's eyes burned with rage. Behind the rage, Bruce sensed Clark's fear, a fear mirrored in his own. But unlike Batman, who suppressed his fear, Superman would act upon it without hesitation.

Suddenly, Bruce's worst fear became all too real.

[zimthandmade]

Hello! Have a nice day!😊 I'm writing a fanfiction on The Death Note in the Dungeons and Dragons universe. My favorite dice were suggested to me by the roles and character classes: L is a tiefling wizard; Nate River is a half-elf robber; Mail Jeevas is a half-orc druid; Mihael Keehl is an elf barbarian. And what do you think, which races and classes will suit them?😏

Oh that's a fun idea!! ✨

Hmm I think if they were in-universe D&D characters, they’d probably all be magic wielders with insane intelligence stats. Here’s my guesses (going with the 5E only and what “feels” right):

L | Elf wizard

Near | Gnome wizard

Mello | Half-elf arcane trickster rogue

Matt | Halfling mystic knight fighter

Much more fun to think about is what character I think they would choose if they were players in a group:

L | Something insanely weak and useless in early game, like a wizard, but godlike in late game. He has to be permanently revived up until level 5. Maybe something with a hidden identity and lore-relevance.

Near | Something opposite of his real life self, like a no-brain half-orc barbarian. Anything that SMASHES THINGS.

Mello | The most perfectly balanced combination of races, classes etc he could think of. An absolute min-maxed beast. And I can’t help but assume it’s a lawful evil rogue. Mello wrote an epic tragic backstory for the guy that fits the campaign lore too. He takes this way too serious.

Matt | The silliest, most fucked-up abomination of a character that needs a booklet of extra homebrew rules. Like a chaotic neutral cursed sentient hat piloting a scarecrow. It’s a bard, of course, and he succeeds seducing the enemies every damn time. Matt comes to the sessions in costume.

Lemme know what you think :'D

[phantoms-lair]

Freelancers

People called them henchmen or thugs. They called themselves 'Freelancers'. Like Mercenaries, but cheaper and more all purpose. Good luck getting a mercenary to guard a door all night long.

Back in the old days, going from a freelancer to working for one specific group was reason to celebrate. Better job security and benefits. The Bosses looked after you more if you were one of their own.

That was before, when Gotham's crime scene was run by mobs and old money. Now it was run by whackjobs.

Make money, edge out the competition, he understood that. Freeze the world into eternal winter? Less so.

But freelancers take the jobs that were there, they just had to be not so invested. You took the job for the pay and did your best not to make the wackadoodles mad. You taught the new guys to put on clown makeup if they worked for the Joker so he wouldn't recognize you out of it and reminded those working for Freeze to wear an extra layer of thermals. Don't get attached, you'll never mean anything to them. Look at what happened to Quinzel.

There were always some who did get attached. And it wasn't like the old days where you were just looking to be a made man. There were those who want to help Scarecrow develop his toxins and study it's effects or got asymmetrical face tattoos to symbolize Two-Face's dichotomy.

These former Freelancers were mockingly referred to as True Believers and hearing someone had permanently decided to follow one was referred to as them 'Finding their forever home' like they were a stray dog. Because let's face it, you were worth less than a dog to them.

He'd been accused of it himself, when he'd expressed a preference for working for Penguin. But the plain fact was for all he used the theming like the wackadoodles, he operated like the old days. The old system of selling intel and edging out the competition and earning money and look, he may not have particularly liked Cobblepot, but he knew where he stood with him and he would take it. As long as he did what he was contracted to do, Cobblepot would pay him and he didn't have to worry about being shot at the flip of a coin or, dunno, maybe because smog was the wrong shade of gray? Who even knew with the Joker?

But he was still a Freelancer and he took the jobs he was offered. So when some new up-and-comer calling himself Red Hood made an offer? He took it.

First thing his new boss did was sit him down in an interview. And he actually took this as a good sign. The only other one to do that in recent memory was Cobblepot, who wanted his operations to run with maximum efficiency.

There was a little more to it than Cobblepot. Penguin just wanted to know how to use you best. This guy wanted to know a bit more. Didn't take him long to figure out this guys had some lines, especially where kids were concerned, and wouldn't take on anyone who was tempted to go outside them. 

Still, he was deemed a good fit and got to work. And it turned out Hood was basically the opposite of Penguin. Penguin appeared to be a wackadoodle, but operated old school. Hood appeared old school (no theming unless you counted his helmet, which was practical in both terms of protection and not letting the Bat see your face), but didn't take long to start acting out like a wackadoodle.

The difference between him and the rest, though, was it was just him. He didn't theme the freelancer's working for him or even bring them along when he taunted the Bat or made moves at Black Mask. He basically established his crime empire and then had the freelancers run it while he did his thing. Kept tabs on it, of course, so no one got any ideas.

It wasn't hard to see Hood was playing a slightly different game from most of Gotham. He wanted something from the Bat and the big names. But it wasn't attention or a piece of the pie. Hood was angry about something and he was going to get his pound of flesh over it.

Well, no skin off his nose. He did his job, did it well, got paid and that was that.

The first thing he noticed as off (well, more off than Gotham usually was) was that things around him were getting...better? The girls on the streets looked healthier and had less bruises. The kids looked better too, both the ones on the street and those 'lucky' enough to live in the housing here. 

Things getting better were always a prelude to them getting worse, so he was on his guard. Some would call him paranoid. He'd just say he'd lived in Gotham long enough.

It came to a head for him when Hood came in to pull a few boys, including himself, because someone needed to be taught a lesson.

Thankfully with Hood, someone was never a Rogue or a Bat if he brought the boys along (That's the term, Gracie. We know you're a woman. We know you can Freelance as well as any of us, geeze). So he wasn't quite fearing for his life, even if he'd take it as seriously as it was.

Their target was a big name supplier-dealer group who worked right at the edge of Hood's territory. It had been a long time since he'd been involved in a bloodbath like this. It was like back in the worst times in Chicago history. Gunsmoke and blood and it all crescendoing with a building ablaze, merchandise and bodies (not all of them dead yet) still inside.

"The fuck did these guys do?" Gracie whistled.

"Sold prescriptions at a discount to Alley residents who couldn't afford their meds normally." Hood growled. "Except he cut them with heroin."

He couldn't help but wince. Yeah, getting people addicted to your product was the first step as a dealer, but even for Gotham that was a scummy way to do it.

"Including some meds for prenatal care." 

Oh. Oh that was vile. He felt the sheer hatred in Hood's voice reflected in his own heart. "Sorry I killed as many of them as I did. Shoulda left them to die slow."

Hood looked at him and though it was impossible to read through the helmet, he could almost feel an appraising look. "Good work tonight. All of you take tomorrow off. And Gracie, you raised a good point. Spread the word. They make a shit example if no one knows why they had to die."

It was on the following day off, drinking in a bar, that several things came together for him. His first interview with Hood sending out feelers for lines. The solid and lethal enforced rules about kids. The improved state of the alley.

Hood was trying to help. This whole criminal enterprise was about helping the people of Crime Alley. Hood wasn't naïve like the Bat. He knew putting people away wouldn't end it. So he did what any of the old families would have done and took control. You couldn't stamp out crime. That was true everywhere but even more so in Gotham. But if you could control it, you could aim it. 

The gangs still fought and died, but they kept it to themselves. The pimps learned hitting their girls would come back on them tenfold. People had even stopped trying to traffic the street kids from the Alley.

And now a big name group was wiped out. Not because they had invaded Hood's territory, but because they'd targeted pregnant women.

Hood was trying to make things better and it was working. And he was a part of that! It made him feel...respectable.

It was a terrifying feeling.

But all good things come to an end. The Bat arresting his current boss was something they all were prepared for.

The Bat courting him was something different altogether.

Not romantically. Lots of his coworkers were glad Catwoman didn't usually hire freelancers, no one wanted to see that. But the Bat obviously had figured out Hood was trying to help and wanted to recruit him.

And Hood was starting to fold. It was small things. Less vehement refusals. Chatting with Nightwing. Hood was considering.

And Bats and Birds didn't need Freelancers.

But he knew Hood respected them enough that he wouldn't make turning them in his initiation. And there was writing on the wall this time. Not just needing to find a job quick after an operation went bust. He'd brush up on his resume, and he'd heard Penguin was trying to expand, so there was sure to be an opening.

Why didn't that feel as good as it used to?

He'd worked long term jobs before, but he'd never felt bad about leaving. Hood paid well, kept his expectations reasonable, and...and...

He'd liked feeling like he was respectable. That his work was doing more than lining a boss's pocket. That he was helping and he wanted to keep it up.

He slumped down next to Gracie who was going over some documents. "Gracie, I think I found my forever home."

"There, there." She patted him on the head in condolence. Or like a dog. He wasn't sure and he wasn't in the right emotional state to care.

"I never wanted this, Gracie. I was proud of being a freelancer. And now I got a place I want to stay, but the writing’s on the wall. Bat's don't use freelancers!"

"Our boss ain't a Bat."

But for how long?

~

"Monthly reports looking good." Hood looked over the documentation. "Any other business we need to look into tonight?"

Gracie slid another folder in front of him. "We need to start planning our reorganization. Getting it out of the way now will make it less of a bitch when it happens."

Hood tilted his helmet to the side like a curious dog. "Reorganization?" he said, something dangerous in his tone.

But Gracie had no fear. "Batman's been trying to get you on his side for months. But the fact that you've started altering your tactics in the last few weeks to be more in line with his ideals means you've decided, at least subconsciously, to go along with it. So if we're changing this gang from a criminal organization to a vigilante one, there's going to need to be restructuring and procedural updates."

Hood was quiet for a moment and he was worried Gracie had just really, really overstepped. "How many of you feel this way?"

He shrugged. "Either way, you know. Stay a Crime Lord or work with the Bats. I'm with you, Boss." he said like it wasn't the most insane and dangerous statement he'd ever uttered.

He was even more surprised to hear more agreements at the table around him.

"That so?" Hood leaned back in his chair, relaxed, but there was something pleased in his tone. Almost like a child that had been unexpectedly praised. "So what were you thinking?"

Gracie shot him an 'I told you so' look. Because she had been right. The Boss wasn't a Bat. From the beginning he did things his own way.

And from the beginning that way had always involved them.

[soapskies]

Could I request a yandere nolanverse scarecrow with a reader who is a patient at Akrham. Maybe reader has anger or trust issues and only interacts to certain individuals because most people aren't very affectionate or kinds (platonic if possible please since I'm a sucker for your teen/kid reader fics)

YAN. NOLANVERSE SCARECROW W/ TROUBLED PATIENT

MALE READER. PLATONIC HCS. READER IS AN OLDER KID.

— Nolanverse Jon is a psychiatrist, not a psychologist, but I thought it would be more interesting if I wrote him to have one-on-one sessions with reader. So suspend your disbelief. :P

You learned early on that the only way to survive your situation was to shut down, or fight your way through it.

One of the youngest patients at Arkham, you were infamous among your doctors for being very uncooperative during your sessions

Most of your issues exacerbated by the conditions at the asylum, and inmates who had no trouble walking all over you.

Your therapists (who didn’t care much for juvenile delinquents anyway, when villains like the Joker were housed in the opposite wing), were quick to walk out on you when you lashed out, all except one.

Dr. Crane was the only one who stayed in the room with you, even when you were screaming until your throat burned and spent entire sessions curled up on the floor.

Although you glared daggers into him, he met you with an even tone of voice and a self-assured demeanor that couldn’t be matched, scribbling away on that notepad of his when you thought there was nothing of importance to note.

Dr. Crane seemed to make all the time in the world for you, always first on the scene when you broke down, and never treated you harshly, no matter how cold you were towards him. No matter how many other doctors looked at you with contempt, as if counseling you was a chore.

Maybe if you were paying attention, you would notice that you ran into him a lot outside of sessions, in which he would prod about your well-being and insist on walking you wherever you needed to go, like an overbearing father.

Not to mention how his actions went far beyond a normal doctor-patient relationship, whether it was holding your shoulder steady to look you sternly in the eye or the tight, awkward squeeze he would give you briefly before parting ways

He seemed to prod you about everything. How you slept, what you ate, who you talked to, what your family is like…

Come to think of it, you haven’t heard from your parents in a very long time, since you started your sessions with Crane. Not that you wanted to hear back from them anyway, when they were the ones who sent you there in the first place.

Miraculously, you were eventually released for “good behavior”, despite your headspace not feeling any clearer, and in none other than Dr. Crane’s care.

Nobody seemed to question it, or give you a second glance as you walked out the doors with him. You were under the impression you were going home, only to be herded into the doctor’s car and driven to some secluded house in the countryside, a good long ways away.

Suffice to say, you never left out of his sight again.