#no man's land jonathan crane x reader

[johnsjackolantern4902]

No Man's Land Jon corruption kink

Content warning: smut

John wore a sexy nun costume because he was feeling a little more adventurous tonight. You had opened your bedroom door and were greeted with a,

"For give me father, for I have sinned by thinking of y/n in a lustful manner. I swear it won't happen again."

"Oh, but it will, won't it?" You teased. He whimpered. "Come here, you sinning slut." You teased some more.

"No!" He played along, turning away from you. You held him closer to you and began leaving open mouthed kisses on his neck. "Ahh... ahhhh! Y/n!" He moaned as you slowly snaked your hand into his thong and began stroking his dick. You let this go on for a bit. You suddenly forcefully pushed him down onto his back, causing him to yelp. You tore off his panties and began giving open mouthed kisses to his cock and balls. "Ahhhh! Y/n! Please! M- more!" He begged. You began sucking him off painfully slowly. He cried for you to go faster, his cock throbbing in your mouth. "Please! Please! I n- need you!" He begged. He whined when you stopped sucking him off as he felt the cold, unforgiving air touch his dick. You began to strip yourself, giving him a little show. He moaned and attempted to touch himself, only for you to smack his hand away. He whined again. Once you were fully nude, you prepped him and slowly made your way onto his cock again with another hole this time. His moans picked up, more enthusiastic. "Ahh! Ahh! Ahh! Y/n!" He panted as you went down on him over and over. You suddenly grabbed his face. He whimpered.

"Only cum when I tell you to, got it?" You ordered. He nodded frantically. You let his face go. But you were so tight around him and he was already dripping precum. He was already so damn close. His eyes began to water the faster you went. "Hold it in." You ordered.

"Ihi'm trying!" He sobbed.

"Try harder." You said as you picked up the pace again. He sobbed under you.

"Please! P-please let me! I- I can't!" He begged. Before either of you knew it he came inside you, crying out your name.

"Bad boy." You said before getting off of him and flipping him over. "Count." You ordered. You slapped his ass

"Ahh! O-one..." He mumbled. You whacked him again "Nnnh! T-two..." the sight of him so pathetic made you so damn horny. You only made him count to ten before putting his mouth to your genitalia to finish you off.

[masteroffearshusband49020]

No Man's Land Scarecrow cross dresses for you

You walked into your room to get something when you suddenly noticed John kneeling on your bed. He was dressed in a sexy nun costume.

"John, what..." You started.

"I have sworn my soul to the Lord and vowed celibacy. It would be such a shame if I were to sin by sleeping around with the beautiful being who just entered the room." He said as he faked a swoon. He stared at you in anticipation. You couldn't help but laugh. He looked at you unimpressed and a little embarrassed. You fell onto the bed in front of him from laughing so hard and crawled on. He crossed his arms. You hugged him and gave him kisses.

"You're so adorable baby, don't ever change." You told him before kissing him more and trailing down his neck. His expression softened and he hugged you back.

[saintmuses]

❝𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙗𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙜𝙡𝙤𝙬 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙖𝙨𝙝𝙗𝙤𝙖𝙧𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩❞

Pairing:

Jealous!Jonathan Crane x Reader

Summary:

Despite they were not even together, Jonathan Crane made her suffer the consequences for flirting with Bruce Wayne.

Warning(s): implied future SMUT. Slightly Dub-con. Dominant and implied possessive Jonathan. Spanking. Minors, dni!

Word Count: 954

The steering wheel groaned slightly under the pressure of Jonathan’s hands that were curled into fists around it.

He couldn’t stop the moments from spilling over in his head like flashbacks in a film reel on the screen.

She was…so gorgeous tonight. In that sparkly dress that drew the attention of everyone.

Even Bruce Wayne walked up to her with intentions in his eyes to take her home with him.

Jonathan didn’t…he didn’t think she would be the one to flirt back with that godforsaken man who considered himself as the savior of Gotham, to feed the fuel to the fire of brimstone and ashes inside of his mind.

He was violently screaming inside of his head, unraveling as his rationality fell apart by each word that repeated back to him as a sacred prayer he refused to kneel for.

One of the things he dealt with on a daily basis as a symbolism of insanity that sometimes shone in his icy blue eyes, through words from his tongue, or even in his laughter when he was alone in empty space with four walls around him.

Jonathan was breathing heavily, the pure rage within him having reached its height.

No one had a claim to her, but him. He had always been secretly possessive over her in many forms. When they were in college, she became his friend, and he went so far as eradicating her other friends that way she could only go to him in the name of friendship. However, he had always knew he wanted her, but never as far as doing anything because he never had to worry about her finding other people to be with.

Now that chain that held them together was weakening as it was clear the bond was going to be threatened by others.

She was his.

He steered the car toward the edge of the dirt off the road, then he slammed his foot on the brakes causing the tires to screech as he did so. He pulled the vehicle to a sudden stop causing her to turn her head to look at him with confusion in her gaze.

Jonathan turned towards her but said nothing, his eyes locked on her as his body trembled from the intense rage and he felt like he could burst.

“You really are something special, you know that?” He finally said something, although icily, eyes blazing with brimstone as he stared straight at her.

He was furious to the point that he couldn’t see or think clearly, but he couldn’t deny how much of a lure she was to him.

“I’m not sure why I haven’t given you a good spanking yet,” he huffed, storm began to take over his irises as his lips curled into a snarl.

Her breathing hitched as her eyes widened before narrowing it. “I dare you.” She hissed, eyes narrowing in fury as she challenged him.

Oh, she should know he would accept it.

He heard her yelping when he reached across the passenger seat and dragged her over onto him in the driver’s seat where she was forced to accommodate her knees around his thighs on the leather. He then dragged the hem of her dress just under the curve of her ass, and she gasped when he landed a hard smack on the back of her thigh.

He wasn’t going to stop with one spanking, and he continued to slap one of her thighs until she started to let out little gasps, ending with whimpering.

“You deserve every red mark that’s going to be on your skin, sweetheart.” He said lowly, informing her with monotonous tone.

He reached for her thighs to grab the hem of her dress, pushing it up until it bunched up around her waist. He did all that too quickly that she did not have time to react to his ministrations. She hissed in surprise when his hands grabbed her ass; fingers squeezing her flesh firmly in a possessive hold, ignoring the lace of her panties before using one of his hands to land a harsh smack on her ass. “You’re mine.”

Of course, he knew she was surprised by his behavior since he had never acted like that towards her. He continued to alternatively swat her thighs and her ass, enjoying every second he could spend making her feel the sting of his slaps.

“Am I making myself clear to you, sweetheart?” he growled, glaring at her through the glass bounded by his metal frames.

He withdrew one of his hands from her ass until he reached between them, reaching down towards her legs. His lips curled into a smirk when he smacked her hard between her legs, enjoyed hearing her gasp.

Jonathan noticed the sudden change in her body language and the way her eyes widened as he crossed the line.

Her eyes were a bit strung out, and before she could respond, he reached behind her and grabbed her ass with his fingers, digging into her raw skin with his fingertips which made her thighs quiver in response while whimpering. 

He knew he was getting to her, and he was enjoying it. A part of him could never see himself taking this far, but he couldn’t stop himself now.

He looked at her with a slight maniac grin and continued to slap the inside of her thigh, then he reached for the thin fabric of her panties, curling his fingers into the underwear before pulling it aside until her cunt was exposed as he gave her another slap. He mentally noted a slick sensation that came from her cunt.

“Enjoying this, sweetheart?” he said condescendingly, his voice growing lower and more deeply with each word.

[cillianmesoftlyyy]

I Can Fix That... Pt. 3 | Jonathan Crane x fem!reader

notes: And the plot and smut continues hehe. In this installment I used Lady Arkham as inspiration. She is originally a DC character/villian. The backstories that I included here are all based on the original DC comicbook/nolanverse lore. I literally used Batman wiki for additional research.

Summary| Crane brought a woman home. That was definitely not something he ever anticipated that he would ever do. He needs to trust her and she's starting to have second thoughts. Was leaving Gotham the right thing for her to do? Yes, she likes Crane but does she like him enough? What is he hiding from her? Oh honey, he was hiding a lot...

Warnings| Fire, mentions of a gun, drugs, smut- fingering, teasing, masturbation, dubious consent, the word "r*pe" is used once, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving). Violence, death, insanity, overdose (no death), infidelity, murder, police violence, trauma, abandonment, general unpleasantness.

word count: 8086k

Lonely Day- System of a Down 🎵

Love Song- Jack Off Jill 🎶

Superstar- Sonic Youth 🎵

Please please please read warnings for this one- we're going over childhood trauma

i 

The helicopter landed in an open field in the outskirts of the city. She and Crane climbed out and ducked beneath the blades as they crossed the pasture. 

“We’re outside the city now. We’re safe here and depending on how Ra’s plan goes, we can stay here.” Crane looked down at the girl beside him. She watched the helicopter, distractedly, as it rose into the air and flew away. The field around them immediately quieted without the presence of the aircraft and they could hear the other breathe for the first time in a while. 

“Where do we go now?” She looked around them at the expanse of pasture and wild flowers hidden in the dark. 

“Over this hill.” Crane started walking and she followed, staying a few paces behind him. When they reached the top of the hill, she saw an old scarecrow standing in a field, empty of crops. The man was made of burlap and covered with rags. Straw exploded out of the scarecrow’s body. She looked at Crane who’d stopped to look at the scarecrow. Sensing her beside him, he glanced back at her and clenched his jaw. He gave no explanation or story and she didn’t want to ask because she didn’t want to cause him more pain. They walked a little farther and as they did, a large house came into view. Crane pointed it out to her with a sneer, directed at the house, not at her, “and there’s my father’s house.” 

The lights inside the mansion were on and it leaked light across the landscape that separated them. 

“Is your father home?” She asked and he chuckled darkly. 

“No, I had the housekeeper open the house for us. Just like with the helicopter, I find it is always useful to play your cards carefully. I was suspicious of Ra’s because I’m suspicious of everyone, even you,” he nodded down at her and she frowned slightly. “I don’t make friends easily, they often disappoint me.” He smiled at his own self-effacing humor. 

“Have I disappointed you?” She asked him. He turned his icy blue eyes to her and shook his head.

“No but we aren’t friends,” he laughed lightly and looked back at the house in the distance. 

“No? Then what are we?” She pouted a little, looking down at her feet and then to his face. 

“We’re more,” he answered evenly and began to walk again. She blushed and hurried to follow him, hiding her smile. Crane even smiled, blocking out the bad memories of the place they now found themselves in. He was no longer scared of the scarecrow but the memories he associated with the figure in the field did little to comfort him. They walked on until they reached the front gate and Crane typed in a passcode on an elaborate screen. The gates were black iron with sharp spikes fixed to the top and they opened with a long and droning squeak. The driveway changed to gravel as Crane led her up to the front door and he pulled on the lion’s head door knocker, releasing a loud door chime inside the house. One wing of the house, she noticed, was burned. 

“You’re right, I’m starting to realize that I really know nothing about you.” She looked up at the large gothic mansion above her.

“That,” Crane turned his head to her and sighed as if it were obvious, “is what a second date is for.” 

The front door opened and a man in a tuxedo greeted them coldly, reminding her of Crane. 

“Welcome back, doctor.” The butler deadpanned and Crane pushed past, wiping his feet in the entryway. She followed suit and nodded to the butler, smiling excitedly. 

“This is Miss —; Miss Y/N Y/L/N.” Crane gestured his hand carelessly between them and continued on into the reception hall. All the walls were carved from solid wood into even square panels. 

“Welcome to the Crane House, ma’am.” The butler bowed his head briefly and followed them. She nodded her head in thanks and became immediately enraptured by the spooky house. “Shall we serve dinner now or would you like to change?” 

Crane turned and cleared his throat, his eyes trying to focus on the room without his glasses. “We’ll change first, Hobbs.” 

“There are clothes laid out in the bedrooms.” The butler bowed and disappeared behind a swinging door. She turned to Crane and laughed. 

“What the hell is this place?” She asked in a bewildered whisper. Crane chuckled, finding the girl adorable in her amazement. 

“This is my childhood home.” 

“So this is where the famous Dr. Crane was raised. I’m intrigued.” She batted her eyelashes and ran up some of the stairs, her fingers trailing the thick banisters. Crane smiled and followed her. 

“Do you like seeing this side of me? Does it thrill you?” His voice prodded her heart and her legs became wobbly. 

“Everything about you does that,” she stood one step above him and cupped his face. She ran her finger down his angular cheekbone and swiped across his wide chapped lips. She kissed his neck and beneath his jaw before finally kissing his lips. 

“For now,” he whispered as she pulled away. They climbed the rest of the stairs up to the second floor and Crane led her down a tight hallway. Animal heads were mounted on the walls and she studied them with a mixed sense of appreciation. Crane pushed open a door with a crystal doorknob. 

“This is your room,” he swept his hand through the room and she gasped in awe. The one room was nearly the size of her entire apartment in Gotham. The walls were painted with elaborate murals. She stepped hesitantly into the room and twirled, wanting to see every inch of the place. Crane looked on from the door, his lips spread into a smile. 

“I’m glad you like it,” he laughed and she ran into his arms, smiling. 

“I love it! I am officially living out one of my dreams.” She pulled down on his collar and kissed him. She pushed her tongue into his mouth and kissed him deeper, her fingers now brushing across the soft skin on his neck. Crane sighed through his nose and found her waist, resting his hands on the indents of her hips. The excitement of the day prompted a sense of adventure and need inside her and she communicated that through her kiss. She bit playfully on Crane’s bottom lip and moaned (intentionally) against him to fluster him. She felt his body shutter from the suggestive sounds she made against him. Her cunt throbbed wantingly and she could feel her heartbeat in her upper thighs. 

“Mhm!” She hummed and caught her breath as Crane’s hands slipped to the base of her back. 

“You never get tired, do you?” He muttered against her huskily and she shook her head. 

“No, Dr. Crane.” She whispered with a soft whine and licked his bottom lip before kissing him harder. She felt his cock twitch on his pants as he pressed himself against her. 

“Good, because neither do I,” he bit the point of her jaw gently and kissed over the hickies he had already made on her neck the night before. He looked all rumpled and hot in his suit after the action of the day and she desperately wanted to undress him. She wanted to fuck him like a normal couple, not tied down to a mortuary slab where she couldn’t even touch him. God, she wanted to touch him. She dragged one hand down to his crotch and cupped his cock through his pants. She rubbed her hand against the half-hard bulge and moaned pitifully as if she were the one getting touched. 

“You’re pathetic,” Crane smirked and pulled her head back gently by her hair. She nodded with a pleased smile, happy that he saw her for what she really was and what she really wanted. He kissed her hard, taking her breath away, and sucked on her tongue so deep she felt like she might choke. When he pulled away and dropped his hold on her neck, his lips were pink and his eyes heavy with lust. She knew her face was flushed and that it turned him on but instead of acting on it, Crane leaned back against the door jam and jerked his head at the bed. 

“Hobbs laid out some clothes for you. I hope they fit, I went through your closet to find your size but I trusted Hobbs and his wife with the shopping.” He smirked, proud of himself for leaving the girl so horny, it made him even harder. He left the room and closed the door, his erection still pressing against his pants. 

ii 

She went down the stairs and looked around for the dining room, turning her curious head left and right. The clothes that had been laid out for her were simple and elegant. A long black dress with a boat neck that she wore with the burgundy stockings set beside it. She’d worn her black mary janes and run a brush through her hair, knowing that would be enough to help her look put together. She followed the sound of a crackling fire and polite conversation through a far door. Crane looked up as she entered and looked her up and down, his eyes sticky against her curves. 

“What do you think?” She gestured to her dress and gave a slow twirl. The butler and his wife stood to the side, watching her with small, pleased smiles. Crane leaned forward, resting his elbows on the white tablecloth. 

“Apparently, my housekeepers have extraordinary taste.” He smirked and stood as she walked to her place at the table on his right. 

“High praise,” she smiled at Hobbs. As they sat together, Hobbs served their dinner of smoked ham. She took a long sip of the gin martini from her glass and swirled the stem with her wrist.

“It’s hard to believe that we were in Gotham just an hour or two ago.” She took in his body dressed in a black suit without his usual tie. His face was clean and he’d refreshed his hair with some gel, the smell was comforting. 

“Tonight could have ended very differently…” he looked at his food. The butler and his wife left the room, going back into the kitchen.

“Thank you for what you said this morning,” she flicked her eyes up to his. He looked back and caught his breath. She looked stunning and he felt the need to pinch himself to remember where they were and how they’d gotten there in the first place. He remembered telling her to do as he said because he wanted her to live and he worried that Ra’s would go back on his word, and as he suspected, Ra’s had, just not with her. 

“I’m just glad that we came to our agreement when we did, before Ra’s. I’ll admit that my desire to keep you alive was more selfish than chivalrous because I needed you for my own reasons.” 

“Like what?” She raised her eyebrow and cut a piece of meat. It melted on her tongue and she swallowed it slowly, watching him. 

“I have plans for Gotham, plans that would involve you,” he cocked his head towards her, adding, “of course. I don’t know yet how Ra’s plans will play out but I suspect that he will fail. Batman will think that he’s saved the city from ‘bad guys’ but,” he leaned in closer, “I’m not so easily defeated and I suspect that we’ll run into each other again.”

“Are you sure that you can trust me with these plans of yours,” she opened herself up to him and stood, looming over Crane in his seat,” these plans that also include me?” She rested her knee on the edge of his seat between his legs, straddling his thigh. Crane looked up at her calmly, unmoved by the position of her knee against his crotch or the heat of her cunt hovering above his thigh. Crane watched her for a moment, letting a heavy silence fall between them before inhaling and shifting his torso closer as if he were going to whisper something to her. 

“Like I told Ra’s,” he started quietly, his eyes dark and harsh at the candlelight table. His hand squeezed the bottom of her thigh above her knee, she gasped quietly, “I’ll make sure that I can trust you…” his hand snaked up the inside of her thigh beneath her dress. He pulled the edge of her stocking away from her thigh and let it snap painfully back against her skin. “Won’t I?” He asked darkly as his forehead creased slightly. She gasped again as his hand found her underwear and stroked her clothed cunt. “Won’t. I?” He sneered and she remembered to nod. “Answer me,” he snapped and brushed his fingers past the crotch of her underwear, spreading the wetness between her legs with the pads of his fingertips. 

“Yes,” she hissed breathlessly, closing her eyes as he rubbed her cunt, creating a dangerous friction. 

“You’re pissing me off, detective.” He growled and roughly began to finger her, shoving two fingers harshly inside. She yelped and looked down at Crane, his eyes flashed. 

“Why, Dr. Crane?” She wrapped her fingers around the base of his neck, her thumb sitting right below his adam's apple. She smiled when his other hand gripped her thigh harder. She moved her hips on his fingers and he watched with interest as she dripped around his fingers. “How can I fix it for you?” She purred against his cheek, moaning softly as he fingered her and teased her clit with his thumb. She began to pant and instinctively moved her thighs together as the pleasure became too much. She squeezed around his fingers and her hands tightened around his throat, about to cum.  

“Behave,” he whispered seriously and removed his fingers before she could finish. She groaned in frustration and held his face between her hands. 

“You’re such a tease, Jonathan.” She scolded him and he smiled. 

“And you’re a horny little slut.” He whispered close to her lips and she shook her head, smiling giddily. 

“I’m just a horny little slut for you.” She ran her tongue across his lips, dragging it up to his nose. She let go of his face and plopped back into her chair, crossing her legs pointedly. Crane rolled his eyes and raised his fingers to his mouth. He sucked her juices from his hand as she watched and then finished his drink, ignoring her when she whined with lust. 

“You’re like a dog,” he rested his elbow on the table, “you think you’ll get what you want if you whine enough.” He delivered the sentence with a knowing look and returned to his food. She didn’t want to admit to herself how much that turned her on. She huffed and tucked her hair behind her ear and finished her martini hungrily. She finally had a moment to glance around the room and when she did, she saw a beautiful fire burning in a stone fireplace. 

“That’s beautiful,” she gestured to the fireplace carved with cherubs. Crane looked and nodded. 

“I think so too. We haven’t had fires in the fireplace since I was a child. You may have noticed that part of the house was destroyed.” 

She nodded.

“That’s because the house almost burned down when I was…” he frowned as he thought, “five or six?” He shrugged and sighed, looking into the blazing fire. “My father never let us use the fireplaces after that. It made for cold winters,” He flicked his eyes up to hers and she shivered. 

“I can imagine,” she thought back to her childhood in the orphanage, freezing at night during any season that wasn’t summer.

“The house will be a lot warmer now,” he said casually and allowed a small smirk to tug at his lips. 

“What happened to ‘behaving ourselves’?” She crossed her arms and raised her eyebrow in fake disapproval. Crane chuckled and leaned back in his chair. 

“I have no idea what you mean,” he lied and they went back to eating when Hobbs entered with dessert. 

iii 

It was nearly 2am when they finally climbed the grand staircase to return to their rooms. There was a large common room that separated the two wings of the house on the second floor. The wing to their right was burned and stood empty. 

“Where’s your room?” She furrowed her brow as they walked down the hallway, passing the laundry chute. Crane pointed to a room at the mouth of the hallway, near the top of the stairs. Her’s was at the opposite end of the hallway. She smiled and spun around, facing her side of the hallway. She let him watch her walk away, moving her hips as loosely as she could manage. When she opened her door, she turned slightly and gave him a closed-mouth smile, her eyes teasing him. He crossed his arms and leaned against his door, his expression unreadable. She closed her door and did a few extra happy-spins for good measure. She kicked off her shoes and explored the bathroom, finding herself in a mood for a bath after not showering the night before. She turned on the bath’s faucet and filled the large tub with hot water. As she undressed, she spotted a row of cosmetics set out for her use, and included in the assortment was the shampoo that she used at home. A small part of her found it scary that Crane had obviously gone through her home to find the things she liked but more than that, she felt honored that he had planned his backup plan with her in mind. He’d asked the housekeepers to prepare her a room and stock it with clothes and shampoo, all just in case she came with him. He’d imagined her coming with him, and that nearly made her cry. She slipped into the hot water and scrubbed every inch of her body, trying to remove all of the sweat, dirt, and debris that had stuck to her skin over the past 24 hours. She washed her hair with the mint shampoo as Crane had guessed she used correctly before. The suds ran down her hair and between her shoulder blades as her hands worked the shampoo into her head. She ducked her head beneath the water and watched as her hair floated out around her head. When she came up for air, her hair stuck to her back and she sighed pleasantly. 

The bathroom was cold when she left the security of the hot water so she quickly wrapped herself in a thick towel and brushed her hair. She rubbed lotion into her dry skin and toweled off her hair. The housekeepers had given her numerous sets of pajamas in different styles. She guessed Crane had decided against going through her underwear drawer, what a gentleman. She liked soft lounge pants and t-shirts so she changed into the dark blue set they had provided for her and unmade her bed. The wide windows on the side wall looked out on the field and she could just barely see the outline of the scarecrow. The house itself had a strange and suffocating feel. She wondered what Crane may have endured here, what secrets he hid inside himself. 

She bit the inside of her cheek and found the gun that she’d brought with her from Gotham. She hid the gun behind the headboard of her bed and sat with her knees pressed up to her chest on the mattress. She wrapped her arms around her legs and shivered, goosebumps rose on her legs and she rocked back and forth, resting her head on her knee like a child. Should she feel guilty for betraying her precinct? Should she worry about Sgt. Gordon and Gotham itself? What had Gotham given her? How had it protected her? She felt torn between a route of righteousness and one of passion. Crane offered her a path to her own future set outside the laws of society where she could create her own identity. She didn’t want to be the good girl cop anymore, she wanted to be everything else and she wanted Crane. 

Crane was testing her. He wanted to see how badly she actually wanted him, how much she would fight to be with him. He needed her to be obsessed, foaming at the mouth at the thought of him. Maybe he was psychotic, sure (he was). His father certainly was and it usually runs in families. Crane’s manic obsession was her and he needed her, but before he could trust her, he had to be sure that she was totally and completely loyal to him. He knew she had her gun and he assumed she’d suffered more internal dialogue since escaping Gotham (he was a psychiatrist, so of course he knew these things). If he pushed her away would she cling to him more or feel the need to betray him? He had to admit that this test was grueling for him too. He didn’t think that he was capable of love or real attraction, he was a psychopath, literally. He’d studied himself as much as he had the subjects in his textbooks in school and he checked all the boxes but this- this- was a new development that he didn’t quite understand. It almost made him angry when he thought of the power she could wield over him if he got too close. She’d spoken so much of trust and he wanted to trust her. He did. But he’d trusted Ra’s, he’d trusted his father and at one point in his life he’d trusted Sgt. Gordon. Those relationships had not ended well. Then this prissy young detective comes along and confronts him with feelings he didn’t think he could have. That was why she was the subject of his fear toxin reaction. She’d found a way to matter to him and losing her had already become his worst fear. He wanted… oh god there were so many things that he wanted from her. He hoped that it wouldn’t take much longer because he was starting to lose patience. 

She stared at the ceiling above her bed and tried to touch herself. She didn’t have her vibrator and Crane had made a point of pushing her away, so she was left to rough it out with her hands. She hadn’t been stuck with just her bare hands since college. Her vibrator had obviously spoiled her and she felt nowhere near as much pleasure without it, though Crane had come extremely close the night before. She dug her heels into the mattress and bit her lip, concentrating as hard as she could on Crane. She remembered the way he spoke to her as he fucked her, how calm and direct he’d been with her body. They both had needs and desires and he hadn’t let insecurities or formalities stand in the way. Her body was craving a release that she’d teased it with twice already that day and she couldn’t fall asleep without trying to appease it. After ten minutes of heavy breathing and a sore arm she collapsed in frustration across her bed. She desperately wanted him and nothing was going to cut it unless it was him inside her. Something- anything. She groaned into her hands and kicked the blankets off of her. 

The door handle creaked and Crane shifted in his half-sleep haze. The bed moved around him and he was startled awake by the girl, straddling his hips. He kept a smile from his lips as he looked up at her. 

“What the hell are you doing?” He got out before her hand clamped around his mouth. She shushed him. 

“Listen here, Crane. Since we have an understanding,” she used his word for their relationship, “I’ll tell it to you straight. I want you. I need you. I have very few needs because I’m a simple girl, but right now, you’re one of them. I’ll ask you nicely and if you humor me, I won’t cause trouble.”

“Trouble?” His voice was muffled against her hand as he raised his eyebrow. 

“I have a whole round of trouble tucked away behind my headboard.” 

“Nice threat. So, you what? Want to rape me?” He propped himself up on his elbows. 

She hooked her finger around the collar of his black t-shirt and sighed. 

“You have such a dirty mind. Why do you have to make it sound so perverted?” She held his chin tightly in her hand and dragged her other hand down his chest stopping at the waistband of his pants. 

“That’s what it is, detective.” He cocked his head to the side and rested it on his shoulder. “Are you really going to do that to me?” 

“Says the man that strapped me to a slab and drugged me three times,” she held up three fingers to stress her point and shifted her hips on his crotch. 

“We both have problems, what do you want me to say?” 

“That you’ll fuck me,” she started to grind her hips and he withheld his sinful exhale. 

“Oh?” He said instead, “what if I’m too tired? Fucking is hard work.”

“Then let me do it,” she shrugged with a smile, “I’ll make us both feel good.” Crane raised a skeptical eyebrow and smirked. 

“You really didn’t get enough at dinner did you?” He teased and she shook her head. 

“You have no idea.”

He watched her rub herself against him and then slowly allowed his eyes to meet hers. She moaned just looking into his eyes and he laughed. 

“Ok, let’s see how you do.” He allowed her casually and watched as she bounced happily on his lap and scooted down to his knees. She pulled down the blanket and worked her hands below his waistband. He was already hard and she scoffed, pissed that he hadn’t admitted how turned on he was too. He smirked as she pulled his cock out of his pants and rolled her tongue around the tip. When she took him in her mouth he sighed softly, his mouth open as he watched her give him head. She swirled her tongue around his length and she bobbed her head up and down. She sucked and dragged her mouth slowly over him until he bucked softly into her mouth. She felt her stomach get hot with excitement and she worked harder, humming against him as she took him deeper. Crane clenched his fists and groaned. She pulled her mouth to the top of his cock and sucked hard, teasing his climax which she could tell was fast approaching. His forehead was creased and he squeezed his eyes shut, allowing his head to fall back with a low gasp. 

“Fuck alright, that’s enough,” He sat up again and smirked, “get what you want out of me.” He panted and ran his thumb over her bottom lip. She licked her lips and crawled off the bed. Crane watched her as she stepped out of her bottoms and straddled him once more, naked from the waist down. His erection rested against her stomach and he swallowed, staring at her bare cunt. 

“I hope you like what you see,” she whispered and removed her top. Her breasts shifted slightly against her skin as she moved and her hair fell around her in a sultry mess. “Because it all belongs to you now,” she pressed her hands against his stomach for balance and leaned closer. “But this,” she looked him up and down, landing on his beautiful eyes and smiling, “this belongs to me.” 

“Silly girl,” he barely shook his head as his eyes trained on her, “I don’t belong to anyone.” 

“We’ll see about that,” she shrugged and bit her lip as she lowered herself onto his cock. She whined in relief and moved her hips slowly. She was so wet he could her himself move inside of her as she fucked him. Crane’s eyes rolled to the back of his head and he released a tight breath. 

“Fuuuuck…” he hissed and she squeezed around him, nearly orgasming just by hearing the pleasure in his voice. She panted breathlessly as she started to move up and down, her hands balanced on his navel where there was a thin dusting of hair. He thrusted up involuntarily and they both moaned. She sped up slightly, moving her hips back and forth. Crane’s hands found the fleshy handles of her hips and dug his fingers into her skin. He had laid back completely making it so that he had to raise his head when he wanted to watch how she snapped down on him. She let her head fall back and moaned loudly as his cock hit the right place each time. The pleasure was so good between her legs that her release felt like the desire to pee. When her climax snapped, her eyes rolled back and she gasped, riding it out and enjoying the pressure of him inside her as it carried her through the high. Her climax triggered his as he felt her cum around her. 

“You’re going to cum inside me,” she panted and whimpered through the sensations. 

“Is that an order?” He gritted out, his fingers leaving bruises on her hips. He was trying to hold off his orgasm but as she nodded and squeezed him again, he let himself cum inside her with a loud groan. She sat for a second longer as he finished and finally moved off. She cleaned him off, sucking his swollen cock and swallowing all of the excess cum and discharge that had collected along his length. He covered his face with his hands as he tried to catch his breath.

“Are you going to leave it in?” He asked in a deep, tired voice. 

“Your cum?” 

“Yes, are you going to leave it in you?” He removed his hands and watched as she crawled up the bed to sit beside him. 

“Do you want me to?” She let her hair fall around them and he twirled the end of one of the pieces. 

He thought for a moment before nodding his head, “yes.” She curled up beside him and draped her leg between his. He exhaled slowly and wrapped his arm around the back of her head, resting his hand on her shoulder. She rubbed her nose against his chest, breathing in the clean smell of his t-shirt. Crane closed his eyes and waited as her breathing became more regular and slow. She started to fall asleep, her hand clasped against his ribs. When she was asleep, he propped himself up on one arm and watched her. Words couldn’t describe how good that was, what she did for him. It was better than their first time when the roles had been reversed. He liked that she could touch him and explore him with a needily innocence like a horny teenager. Crane thought about his cum still sitting inside her, collecting around her inner-thighs. He kissed her as she slept deeply, licking the salty taste from her lips and swallowing. She made a noise in her sleep and he drew his hand around her perfect breast, admiring her body in the dull glow of the moon. Gotham would be no match for them once they were united. No one could stop them, not even themselves. Once they started they could never stop, they had to take everything from each other. His head fell back into his pillow and he kissed the curve of her throat before allowing himself to fall asleep beside her. He’d never slept with a woman after sex. She was the first. 

iv 

They woke up late in the morning and dressed warmly, both wearing sweaters and long pants. Crane had traded in his suit for more casual wear though his attire was always oozing with old money aesthetic. After a breakfast of eggs benedict and black coffee, Crane asked if she wanted to see the house. 

“Of course,” she smiled and nodded excitedly. There were some questions she still had for Crane and she had her own list of theories and thoughts that the house inspired inside her. She worried what the house would reveal and more importantly, what it may say about Crane. She wondered if he had lived a childhood similar to hers, one of trauma and violence, even if he had lived in a huge mansion with every monetary item he could ever desire. 

They started outside the house, walking the grounds. The exterior of the house was set in elaborate stone carvings. The roofs were made of dark terracotta, framing widow peaks at the top of many of the towers. Crane watched her reaction as they rounded to the side of the house with the destroyed wing, still black from the burning. She could even still smell the charcoal made from the house’s old paneling. 

“Your father never rebuilt it?” She asked, curious. Crane studied the crumbling structure and shook his head.

“No, he died before making plans for a renovation.” She looked at him quickly and met his eyes. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” 

“But you understand.” 

She nodded slowly, “I was an orphan, I never knew my parents.” 

“So was I.” He clenched his jaw and looked down at the ground. 

“Your mother?” She asked hesitantly. 

“She died, here, in this wing.” He pointed to the second floor of the burned wing. “That was her room.” 

“You were young then too,” she remembered and he nodded. “Do you remember your mother?” 

“Some things but nothing that brings me much comfort. I remember how she died and I remember how my father mourned her.” 

“So she died in the fire?”

“Yes,” he nodded and folded his arms across his chest, “she was trapped inside after the fire started. They weren’t able to save her. My father was never the same after that.”

“When did your father die?” 

“Before I went to college…” he trailed off and they stood in silence for a moment. “He was a chemist, you know.” 

“No, I didn’t know. Did he teach you?”

Crane chuckled darkly, “I guess you could say that. He used me for his experiments.” He scowled. What he had said back in Arkham came back to her mind and she risked asking more. 

“Jonathan?” She started. 

“Yes?” He asked, his voice hard and protective like a layer of ice. 

“What did he do to you?” 

Crane swallowed and turned away from the house, forcing her to hurry behind him to keep up. His hair was tousled by the wind as he walked through the icy field. As the slope curved downwards, he finally started to speak. 

“He was the one who first came up with the idea for the fear serum. After my mother’s death he became obsessed with it and started to test it on himself like a lunatic. It messed with his head and made him relive my mother’s death over and over again until he finally had to stop and find a new subject. His new subject became me.” He darted his eyes angrily around the ground as he spoke, spit flying from his lips. “He would give me the toxin and at the time, it was 10x more dangerous. He used me to gauge the body’s reactions to fear and kept track of what the brain imagined during that state of panic. He wanted to create a cure for fear, a way to remove the body’s reaction to it. At some point he made a breakthrough in the case using people he’d kidnapped and found a way to remove a person’s ability to be afraid. He used it on himself and after that, his natural instincts became mute. When I was sixteen he brought me here,” he stopped suddenly and she looked as he gestured at the scarecrow hanging from its perch, “and he administered the drug one last time.”

“What happened?” She whispered, her blood going cold. 

“I overdosed on the serum and hallucinated that the scarecrow was alive but the fear I felt was multiplied from the large dose of toxin. Your old boss, Sgt Gordon, found us out here having come to arrest my father for kidnapping and murder. Because my father no longer feared anything, he charged Gordon and Gordon shot him. He died where we’re standing… and I watched it. I watched it all happen.” He stared at the scarecrow, his face set. He didn’t show any emotion as he recounted his father’s death, his own trauma. 

“What did Gordon do?” She stepped closer but left him a small circle of space, a safety net. 

“He took me to the hospital and once I recovered, they brought me back here.”

“You were so young,” she whispered sadly, wanting to cry for him. 

“So were you, weren’t you, when you were left at the doors of Gotham’s orphanage?” She nodded. 

“I was a baby.” She hugged herself and stared down at the ground beneath them.

“That’s why I think we’re so similar. We raised ourselves- you and I.” He smirked, “it would explain our similar psychology.” 

“The fact that we’re both deeply disturbed? Sure, I’ll give you that,” she laughed lightly, her nose burned in the cold air. 

“Mm… deeply disturbed,” Crane sounded out the words with a soft hiss. 

“Psychotic?” She offered. 

“Psychopathic.” 

“Deranged.” 

“That’s not a medical diagnosis I’m familiar with,” he looked down at her, taking in the profile of her ruddy cheeks blistering in the wind. 

‘But not far off is it?” She smiled and looped her fingers in the front of his sweater, her hands brushing the hard muscle beneath. 

“Hmmm, I don’t know. I’ll have to conduct more thorough examinations.. I’d kill to have a look inside your head.” His fingers traced her hairline and pulled gently on her hair.  

“I have a few ideas for other places you could examine,” she teased and he smirked, coming back from his temporary emotional lag. 

“Intriguing offer, detective.”

“Thank you, Dr. Crane,” she returned his smirk and pulled him away from the scarecrow. He followed her. “Why did you choose the scarecrow as your alias?” she brought the conversation back and his forehead creased again as he thought. 

“I was forced to face my fear and after I returned here with just Hobbs and his wife to keep me company. I decided to take back the power that the scarecrow took away from me that day. Embracing my fear made me stronger, more powerful,” He answered seriously and she nodded. 

“Why did you improve your father’s fear toxin if you knew what it was capable of?” She asked quietly, watching for his reaction. 

“I made it because I knew what it was capable of. People like us have suffered, we’ve been wronged, we’ve been abandoned and ignored. There are people in this world who have the privilege of never being afraid because they have nothing to fear. I made it originally to use on the city’s elite, the people who think they’re better than me because they think they’re wealthier than I am, smarter than I am. Ra’s distracted me from my plan and I know now that I was right from the very beginning, Batman and his like need to be dethroned. We can be the ones to do it.” 

She looked into his eyes and kissed him, drawing his face down to hers by the rough collar of his sweater. His lips were dry from the wind. When she pulled away he held her face between his hands and looked at her seriously, his nostrils flared. 

“Do you still trust me after everything I just told you? Do you still want to be with me?” He asked her calmly, a dark glint in his eye. She dropped her head to the side and he caught it easily in his palm. 

“Yes, yes.” She nodded. 

They walked in silence, their hands brushing against each other and their hair blowing in the short gusts of wind. 

v 

“There’s still something you should know,” Crane began as they crossed through the door into the grand entry hall. 

“Like how you learned to ride a horse?” She joked but Crane didn’t smile. His face was hard again as it had been before. Her smile faded slowly and she felt her heart shutter and drop. “What?” She whispered and Crane left without another word, so she followed him hesitantly. He led her down into the basement, taking a stone staircase hidden behind a wall panel that also served as a door. Their steps echoed in the small space, electric sconces burned along the creepy passage. Finally Crane stopped at the door at the bottom of the stairs. The door was made of solid steel and Crane had to enter a passcode to open it. 

“Through here,” he guided her through the door and closed it behind them. The room was large and cave-like, lined with bookshelves and lab equipment. She gave an appreciative gasp, taking in the room that served as Crane’s office and private lab. “This was my father’s lab and when he died, it became mine.” He walked around to his desk and rummaged through one of the bottom drawers, removing a few small folders and placing them on his desk. He rested his knuckles on the cherry wood surface and sighed, finally meeting her eyes since they got back to the house. 

“Back to our topic of trust, I should tell you that I did a little snooping, if you will, into your past when we first started crossing paths. I wanted to know who I was dealing with, which is why I did this and now that we’ve ended up here together, I feel that it’s only right,” the word tasted bitter on his tongue, “to show you what I found. I’ve always told you that we’re alike, that we understand each other but I’ve never explained why. This is why I know we’re alike, Y/N.” He opened the front flap of each folder and pushed them down to the front of the desk. “You should know what happened to you as a child, the things they never told you at the orphanage.” He waited as she swallowed and looked between the papers and Crane. 

“What do you mean?” She whispered, “the things that happened to me?” 

“How the Wayne family ruined both of our lives.” His voice was slow and dark like syrup and it took her a few seconds to process what he was saying, what he was implying. She looked down at the folders again and took a step closer. When she reached his desk, she scanned the documents with blurred vision. “What… what do they say?” She rubbed her eyes and stepped away. Crane took the first folder, his jaw clenched. 

“Y/L/N, Y/N was born into the Arkham family, the founders of Arkham Asylum. Her parents were known to have had numerous disagreements with the Wayne family over the inappropriate use of the criminal justice system by moving people whom the Waynes didn’t like into the asylum. The Arkhams did not believe that the Waynes should have had the right to imprison their political enemies and opponents and tried to inform the public. The message to the press and other government officials was intercepted by the Wayne administration and destroyed, though one draft of the letter was salvaged from the Arkham’s trash and archived in the police station, it was never investigated. The Arkhams, both in their early 30s, were found dead a week later in their home. With no other living relatives, the baby, named Matilda Y/N Arkham by her parents, was discreetly handed over to Gotham orphanage by people closely connected to Wayne following the murder.” He paused, his eyes flicking up. She had gone white and her hand was clamped around one of the shelves on a nearby bookshelf. She looked up at him when he stopped and tried to speak but nothing came. He still waited, giving her time to speak but when she didn’t, he continued. 

“My private investigator found this from government records, including records still housed in Gotham orphanage. They knew this whole time and never informed you even after you became a legal adult. They never investigated your parents’ death and Thomas Wayne, the father of Gotham’s famous playboy, Bryce Wayne, never paid for his actions. He continued to imprison his enemies and without your parents there to run the asylum, it fell into its current state. Nothing I could have done with Arkham would have ever salvaged it after what Wayne’s administration did. So, you see now why I said that we were alike in so many ways. The Wayne’s have too much power even now and someone needs to do something about it.” Crane sighed and walked back to the front of his desk and leaned against it, his eyes lowered to the ground. She inhaled deeply. 

“You said something about Wayne ruining both of our lives. What did he do to you?” She asked him, her face red from stress and emotion. 

“He killed my mother,” he answered evenly and they met each others’ eyes. Her questioning eyes prompted Crane to explain. “He visited my mother whom he’d been seeing for a few months. She wanted to end things because she had me and I was getting older, and her marriage was starting to improve; she no longer wanted to be his mistress. He got angry and locked her inside her bedroom and then he lit a fire, right outside her room. He left before anyone realized what had happened. They found the key in her bedroom door, still inside the lock, locking the door from the outside. They knew that something had happened and the people in the police department knew the rumors, the secret love affair between Mrs. Crane and Mr. Wayne. There was a whole case but the police commissioner closed it and it was never solved. My father was a good man before that day, my mother’s murder drove him insane. For years it led him to do things that he shouldn’t have done. Wayne had a hand in my fate too, setting up my parents’ demise. I would have ended up alongside you at Gotham’s orphanage if Hobbs and his wife didn’t agree to look after me for those last two years before I was old enough to be my own guardian. Thomas Wayne died when I was eleven and yet, he still managed to kill my father from the grave. So, we’re connected by a chain of discord welded together by the Wayne family.”

“Yes…” he whispered and sank down into a dusty armchair. “So my real name is Matilda Arkham?” 

“Technically speaking, yes.” 

“And so that means Arkham Asylum also belongs to me?” 

Crane smiled with his wide lips closed, “technically.”  

Realization clicked in and she couldn’t help but laugh. She covered her mouth with her palms and laughed hysterically. Crane smiled down at his feet and scratched the side of his face. Though she suddenly realized that her entire life had been a lie, she laughed because now, everything made sense. And by some disturbed twist of fate, she and Crane had been bound to be together all because of Thomas Wayne. She pulled herself from the chair and looked at the family picture included in one of the folders. Crane leaned over her shoulder, breathing calmly against her neck. Goosebumps rose on her arms as she studied the picture. Lying in the arms of a woman with strawberry blonde hair, was her. Her father held her foot in between his fingers, smiling down at her with brown eyes. She’d seen their portrait in passing in the asylum and yet she’d never placed why they managed to look so… familiar. They’d been celebrated psychiatrists in their time. She looked at Crane, still leaning against the desk beside her, his blue eyes were trained on her face. So that’s why she had a thing for psychiatrists, she realized. 

“Are you ready to hear my plan now,” he asked her with a smirk, “... Miss Arkham?” 

[lily-radiance]

Random fic headcanons and ideas:

TWD season two Daryl Dixon with an S/O who's in trouble

Both loners

MC is not from Georgia

Early 20s MC dating mid-30s Daryl

She knows how to shoot archery bows but not crossbows

Touch-starved

Andrea considers MC like another younger sibling

Everyone advises Daryl not to go for you and vice versa

When Rick, Hershel, and Glenn go to the bar, MC accompanies them. Daryl only goes when Lori tells him that you are in danger.

Carol gives him advice

Andrea and Lori warn him if he breaks your heart, he's a dead man.

RE4 Leon with a high school best friend who became an Umbrella Scientist.

MC was initially training for the force with Leon but dropped out to find another passion

She wants to help people but gets pulled into Umbrella’s dark research

Leon caught a glimpse of her at the end of RE2 but couldn't be sure if it was her.

Ashley doesn't trust MC, but Leon ignores it

Both have combat experience and have undergone physical conditioning

MC does not have Las Plagas

Krauser spars with MC, causing Leon to jump in.

Krauser asks Leon to choose between you and Ashley.

IDK if Leon would be sweet here or a Yandere.

Arkham Movie Trilogy Jonathan Crane, Harley Quinn, and Poison Ivy x Psychiatrist reader

This story is currently in progress!!!

Reader works at Arkham Asylum

Friends with Bruce Wayne

Knows about his alter ego and occasionally helps him solve cases

Reader believes Bruce should do more with his money to benefit Gotham

Combines Heath Ledger’s Joker with Margot Robbie’s Harley Quinn

The reader was in the same major as Harley in college, and the two dated briefly

Harley constantly teases the reader when she catches wind of a new crush

You try to ignore her, but eventually can't as she warns you that the doctor is deadlier than he lets on

You brush it off, too fond of your coworker to accept the notion that he can hurt you

Bruce doesn't like your new counterpart, picking up a destructive energy that screams guilty

In defiance, you decide to bring your beaux to one of many parties and get on your friend’s last nerve.

A kiss is shared in front of the crowd, some murmuring complaints while others smile. You wish to stay in Jonathan’s arms, but the moment is interrupted as Bruce pulls you aside

Naturally, two upper-class socialites fighting in front of an audience calls for bad publicity, but not on your part

“If you keep this up, you'll become a sewer rat criminal just like the rest!”

Luckily, you decided to wear a few rings to accentuate your outfit. Not only do you look stunning, but you reel back and land a brutal slap on his cheek. Yet that doesn't hurt as much as your following words.

“How dare you, Bruce. How dare you scrutinize what you can never understand. Thomas and Martha would be ashamed of you, and you, of all people, know they were difficult to rattle. Next time you need anything, ask someone who gives a shit.”

Your friend has to watch in shock as you exit the home, arm linked with a man he despises. Even in disagreeable situations, you manage to exhibit grace and elegance. It's the beginning of a new era and the opportunity to forget the complex life of the wealthy.

“Is your hand alright, (Y/N)? Better yet, are you okay?”

Never underestimate a psychiatrist to get into your head. He walks you to the car, watching your lips tremble in the darkness. You meet his stare, and one thought crosses your mind: kissing him sounds lovely. The doctor is efficient at picking up social cues, leaning down to meet your lips, and extinguishing the frigid temperature.

“As long as I'm with you, Jonathan. I can do anything with you by my side, no matter the risks.”

I want to make the reader an anti-hero vigilante with the “Grim Reaper” theme. Supernatural powers in Batman don't really occur so I will brainstorm. Most villains are the work of genetic experiments gone wrong so maybe I'll work with that?

JD(Heathers 1989) dating the reader

You are friends with Veronica and the despicable Heathers

Instead of going along with their charades, you often argue and challenge Heather Chandler

She constantly threatens your social standing but knows that the campus would easily choose you over her.

Purple color coded

JD can't help but admire your tenacity as you begrudgingly follow Veronica to the table, attempting to stop the girl from doing Heather’s bidding.

When you walk over, he seems uninterested in the girl speaking to him, instead transfixed on your disinterested attitude. Unknowingly, you lick your lips, tasting lip gloss and wiping some glitter away. When you lock eyes, you swear your heart stops beating, drawn to his carefree attitude.

Veronica says a few words to you, trying to convince you to let her administer the lunch poll

As she talks, you playfully roll your eyes, causing the delinquent to smirk in your direction. He hides a chuckle from breaking out, finding your careless joking funny given the circumstances. When Veronica walks off, it allows you to sit across from the newcomer, albeit a little too eagerly.

“Mind if I ask for a smoke? I'm dying from boredom.”

“Sure, I could never say no to a girl like you. I’m guessing you’ve been trying to break from those devils all day.”

He lights your cigarette as you take it between your teeth, enjoying the visual more than he lets on.

“It's all thanks to you, my knight in obsidian armor.”

[huntingingoodwill]

dawn cracks the dark - part i

part 2 here.

moodboard

A/N: hey so.. henry wilson x reader time! i am deeply aware that this is not good but i had an idea and i wanted to get at least part of it out there before it ate me up inside. i’ve read @retromafia and @haileyybird ‘s hcs about henry and his botany nerdiness and it inspired me so much so if you want to read something of actual quality you’ll find it on their blogs lmao (title is a lyric from trees and flowers by strawberry switchblade !!) besides henry i’m also planning a series for my man jonathan crane so that will be up,, eventually! askbox is always open send in hcs let’s chat or whatever :)) @henry-wilson

You’d never admit it, but he scared you a little. You hadn’t always lived by the countryside and you liked to think of yourself as a cosmopolitan, street-wise city girl, unafraid of any man, but Henry Wilson was a definite exception. 

He was statuesque, completely stoic. If his quietness didn’t intimidate you so much you’d reach over the bar and knock at his temple to see if he was made of marble. Besides the occasional gesture for you to refill his drink, the drag of a cigarette or a blink betraying him, he perched at the bar every night, stony eyes staring out of the window, past the pedestrians and buildings, far, far away from himself. You could never blame him. The countryside was a close-knit community, and you had heard whisperings of what he had endured at war. You wanted to help him, really, but there wasn’t much else you could do as a barmaid than keep him swimming in whiskey. 

You were doing just that when you noticed a shift at the corner of your eyes, his hand signaling you for a refill. You grabbed his usual off the shelf and poured it into his glass, trying to ignore the hitch in your breath when your knuckles grazed his while handing it over. 

 You averted your gaze and busied yourself wiping down the bar, when you heard a gravelly voice mumble, “You shouldn’t put that there.”

It totally knocked the breath out of you. He spoke! You didn’t know he could do that. 

“Excuse me, Lieutenant?”

His eyebrows furrowed, gesturing behind you. 

“It won’t get enough sun.”

You turned around, eyes landing on what he was pointing at as you felt a blush creep up your neck. A tiny potted succulent amongst the liquor bottles, its small green frame peeking out amongst the glass. It stuck out like a sore thumb and even earned a scoff from your aunt a few days earlier when you asked if you could place it in her pub, but she conceded, knowing you’d brought it from home and it would ground you. The pub was so gloomy anyway, it would be nice to have something so indisputably alive in it. 

“Oh.” You whispered sheepishly, hurriedly taking down the potted plant. 

“May I?” He asked gently. His voice really was so lovely when he actually used it. 

You handed it over, and he stood, walking over to the window and placing it on the sill. He leaned against the window frame, examining the plant, and as his temple pressed against the cold windowpane you subconsciously listened for the knock of marble against glass. 

“It’s a beautiful variety, but you’re watering it too much.” He said. The blush had spread to your cheeks now, and you looked almost as red-faced as the men you had just served a third round to. 

“My mother always used to scold me for overwatering the plants,” you spoke, grasping at straws to come up with anything to say. “Said I was drowning them with too much water and too much love.” God, why did you mention that?

He finally locked eyes with you, his eyes so blue looking into them felt like a shock of cold water. They were gorgeous. 

“Lucky you found a job as a barmaid then. You’ll spare the poor plants by drowning us instead.” He said, a flicker of a smile playing on his lips before disappearing just as fast. He can smile! And joke too! This was a monumental day for statues all around the world. 

“I don’t use much water to drown the patrons here. The clientele usually prefer something a little stronger.” You smiled, nodding at his amber tinted drink. 

“And what about love? Have much use for it around here?” He asked, looking back down at the plant.

“No. Not an ounce.” You whispered.  

“That’s a shame.”

[im-moreofa-dogperson]

A Fearful Encounter - Part 4

Featuring: Dr. Jonathan Crane aka Scarecrow x Female Reader

Warning: gun violence

Summary: After John’s promise to free you from the wretched Gotham city, he teaches you how to defend yourself so you can make it on your own. However, when pushed far enough, you may just be more than he’d made you out to be.

Words: 1890

Previous parts: part 1 part 2 part 3

**Sorry it took so long to post this new part!

____________________________________________

As if on cue, as soon as John had professed his intents to help you escape from the vileness of this city, you were startled by a knock at the door.

You both looked at each other, as if questioning whether the other knew who was there. After it was clear neither of you were expecting company, John grabbed hold of your hand and pulled you quickly to your room where there was a fire escape.

Just as you unlatched the window, you heard the door swing open and crash against the wall. You hurried along raising the window, scattering the dust that had collected on the frame, and quickly climbed out with John right behind you.

He jumped down to the ground first and caught you by the waist after you landed right next to him. It wasn’t until you’d made it into his car and drove 3 blocks away when you finally felt it was safe to breathe again.

You rolled your head over against the head rest to stare at him. “Who was that?”

He glanced over at you and quickly back to the road before responding, “not sure.”

You sat with this uneasiness for a few blocks before he finally pulled up to what must have been his apartment building. It was far more casual than you had expected although you weren’t quite sure what it was you were expecting.

A young girl and her mother were exiting the building as you were walking in and they barely gave you or John a single glance. You wondered if any of the residents were aware of who they were more or less bunking with. Maybe John paid them off to keep quiet.

Upon entry to his apartment, you slowed down in the door frame to take it in. Although you hadn’t been picturing a dungeons-like cavern with spikes on the windows and knives fanned out on the coffee table, you also hadn’t expected such a pleasantly pleasing atmosphere.

The living room was well furnished with a not so well-lived-in couch pushed up against the wall of which an antique, baroque style painting hung from. The dark, morose hues of the depicted scene fit well with the borderline demented passions of the man who hung it.

Otherwise, the room was casual and almost homey. John had been studying you while you took in his apartment before finally speaking up; “you need to learn how to defend yourself.”

Taken aback, you glance at him and respond, “what”?

“Well, this is only a temporary residency,” he goes to say, plopping his keys into a turquoise bowl on the coffee table. “Eventually you’ll be on your own where I won’t be able to jump in and rescue you.”

You snort at that and reply, “Yeah, and you won’t be able to put me in a situation where I need rescuing either.”

“Either way, you need to learn.” He smiles slightly, and it’s a smile that used to suspend you in uncertainty, but now you’re able to get enough of a read on him that you know he’s simply trying to assure you of his sincerity.

You agree to his proposition nonetheless as he leads you to the building’s basement to practice self-defense.

******

For the next few days, you painstakingly practiced fending off attackers through physical altercations as well as how to shoot a gun. John didn’t make things easy for you, constantly pushing you to do better.

You were reminded of the disappointed expression he’d wore on his face when he’d found you’d overwhelmed a security guard through force during the Fear Aversion Therapy.

Ironically, the very thing he’d once punished you for doing, was now the very thing he was teaching you to be better at.

During your lessons, you noticed there was an abundance of physical contact between the two of you. You suddenly recalled the first night you ever spent together when you’d kissed him in a lapse of judgement.

You tried not to dwell on these thoughts too much as John held your trigger finger under his in an attempt to better your aim. You could feel his breath against your exposed neck and once again fought the urge to turn around just then and kiss him.

To take your mind off these intrusive thoughts, you considered how you were in need of fresh clothes. Afterall, you’d been living at John’s place for three days and still hadn’t revisited your old apartment for your stuff.

After badgering John to drive you after your lesson, he finally agrees, and you head out back to your old home.

******

Walking up the concrete stairs that you’d once found so familiar felt alien to you now. Though it hadn’t been long since you’d resided in this home, you still felt as though you’d changed so much.

It was almost as if it wasn’t you that had once climbed and descended these stairs for years, but rather a stranger you’d left behind in the past. For good reason.

When you reached the door, you extended an arm out to the handle, but as soon you did, John gripped your wrist and held you still. You give him an inquisitive look before realizing what he must have been thinking.

The intruder that you’d barely escaped from three days prior most likely wouldn’t have cared enough to shut and repair the door they’d just busted through. Meaning someone else has been here. And that someone could still be here.

John clearly was thinking the same thing as he took out his gun and cautiously opened the door handle.

When he pushed the door open, what you saw made you drop your gun. You barely even registered John mumbling ‘shit’ under his breath.

“Dad?”

******

“Thought I was dead, huh?”. Your father simply asks. He was lounging on the couch as if he’d never left. “That why you look like you’re seeing a ghost?”

The state of shock you’re in prevents you from even answering him. John, however, recovers much quicker than you.

“Thought I told you what would happen if you ever came back here,” he says. You immediately sober up at this threat of John’s. The implication of it being he knew your father was alive and never actually killed him like he’d told you. It was simply another tactic to instill more fear in you. Fear of him.

You know you should feel betrayed. You should hate him for tricking you yet again. All that was behind you now, however. Now all you felt was pure disdain for the man sitting in front of you, the throw blanket you’d once lent to John lying at his feet.

“What are you doing here?” You ask as apathetically as you could.

“Straight to the point, huh? Not gonna ask how I’ve been, what I’ve been up to, if I wanna catch up-“

“Like you ever gave enough of a shit to ask me any of that,” You scoff.

Abruptly jumping to his feet, your father points an accusatory finger at you and replies, “I did give a shit about you! Everything I did was for you! You don’t even know the half of what I’ve had to give up. For you.”

His statement was so foreign and ridiculous to your ears that you feel like laughing. How could someone be so delusional?

“Everything you did was for yourself. The best thing that ever happened to me was hearing about your death.”

At that, John whips his head to you. He’d been watching your argument back and forth like a tennis match, in an almost amused way. He knew some sort of violence would ensue upon seeing your father, but this he didn’t expect.

“Fine,” your father says sighing, and sitting back down. “I’m here because I need your help. Well, I need your connections. I’ve come into some trouble… something that I can’t run away from.”

You squint your eyes trying to decide what he meant by all this when John suddenly laughed mockingly and said, “Sir, I thought I made it clear that if I were ever to see your face again, mine would be the last you see. What makes you think I’d submit to any request of yours?”

Having put everything together given your advanced knowledge in the deceiving ways of your father, you answer for him, “because he thinks I’ll convince you on his behalf.”

“Look, I just need you to use your little home-brewed concoction on some guys who think I owe them money.” You shake your head at the all the unearned confidence your father must have in order to talk to Jonathan Crane like that.

“Or maybe I’ll use it on you,” John simply threatens.

“Enough!” You finally say. “No one’s doing anything to anyone. Dad, we’re leaving. You’re on your own. Your favorite game of scaring me into doing your bidding is over.”

John puts his hand on your waist to push you out in front of him towards the door. As you leave, however, your father begins to laugh. It’s a guttural laugh that stirs your darkest memories of him.

Without thinking about it, you slip your hand into John’s jacket pulling out his gun and train it at your father’s head.

John eyes you curiously, and in the strangest of moments you finally realize what draws him to you. You’re unpredictable. You act in ways in even you can’t anticipate.

Your father’s laughter stops when you pull the trigger.

******

The walk back to the car was a blur. You remember vomiting in the stairwell and then John eventually scooping you up after your legs had given out.

When he set you back in the passenger’s seat and began driving, you knew you needed to pin down how you really felt before you drove yourself insane. One of the many lessons you once learned as John’s patient.

You knew it wasn’t regret you felt. Although the information of your father’s murder had once been used to threaten you against escaping Arkham Asylum, you had still sighed a breath of relief at the mention of it.

Now, to see him again was like a waking nightmare; unsure whether his presence was real or imaginary, but positive that it was unwelcome.

You definitely felt shock. You’d been imagining this scene unfolding for quite some time, but even you were surprised to have found yourself reaching for the gun and pulling the trigger in such an unyielding manner.

Though, what it really boiled down to was exhilaration. You felt as though a weight had been lifted off your shoulders and for once, it was by your own hand. You were no longer the scared girl you once were standing with her back to the sea and a total dependency on the hand extended out before you.

You giggle as you almost compared yourself to the Great Loch Ness Monster in all her green finned glory that you once thought you’d be swallowed whole by. Your giggle soon turns rampant and you fail to stop the uproarious laughter that then pursues from you.

Even with Scarecrow in the driver’s seat, you felt as though you’d finally taken control. Of your mind, and your trigger finger. You laugh like that all the way back to the apartment.

______________________________________________

[wordsfromthesol]

A Better Reality

Author: @wordsfromthesol Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader Summary:  You just began a new job at Arkham Asylum and your newfound talent allows you to help a certain masked vigilante. Warnings: Language…I think that’s it? Word Count: 2.8k Taglist: @ghost-brocolli  (You seemed real excited for it, so I tagged you  😉 ) A/N: So, this so isn’t where I was expecting this story to go…but oh well. Here it is! Also there’s a song...so recording is how I envision it sounding, but like you obvi don’t need to listen to grasp the story.

Everyone said you were crazy to move to Gotham, and you totally understood but you couldn’t help feeling like you were meant to be here. It seemed like everything went wrong in your life all at once, and everything else was pushing you towards Gotham. A psychologist position opened up at Arkham Asylum, just as your old job let you go. Granted, a position opened up at Arkham every few months, but you chose to overlook that fact. You had an unusually high tolerance for psychopaths and thought you may actually be able to help some of these people.

You started work just days after you moved in and quickly realized you had a knack for helping those affected by Scarecrow’s fear toxin. An earlier formula had caused several people to go insane and unshockingly they all ended up in Arkham. After a few months, you even started treating Jonathan Crane himself. Though, you only got in three sessions before the villain broke out of the prison.

It had been a long day, everyone at the prison was frantic given the escaped convict, and all you wanted to do was curl up on the couch with hot chocolate and a good book. The universe had other plans, on your way home you saw people running from the metro station. No. Not already. You immediately got out of your car and tried to calm those far enough away from the station – after all you saw first hand what the gas was capable of and you did not need that toxin in your brain.

“Okay, miss…miss can you hear me?” The woman nodded as you approached her, careful to maintain your distance. “I need you to listen, find a sound and focus only on that. It can be the sound of the cars going by or the buzzing of the streetlights. Can you do that for me? Focus only –” your voice cut off as you noticed a figure standing on the ledge of the nearby apartment building. No no no, not on my watch buddy. You ran towards the building and leapt up to the fire escape. I think this is the most I’ve exercised in years. Finally, you reached the top of the building and slowed your pace. You didn’t know how the toxin was affecting this person and you definitely didn’t want to be attacked tonight.

“What a beautiful night, you come up here often?” The masked figure briefly turned their head in your direction before resuming their gaze over Gotham. Okay, well at least they won’t attack me. You get a little closer and sit on the ledge of the building before you look up and realize that the figure is the infamous Red Hood. You could only imagine what the gas was projecting into his mind. “Listen to those police sirens. I wonder how long their sirens will be on. The noise of the sirens must be distracting so many people.” Giving him time to reflect on your words, and hopefully focus on the police sirens, you watch the panic spreading below. When he didn’t step back from the ledge you started again. “Hey, can you do me a favor? I’ve been working on this song and it would be great to have someone else’s opinion.” You noticed the slight nod he gave, at least I think that was directed at me. “I need you to really listen though, focus on the lyrics and the sound of my voice. Only my voice.” With that you began to show part of yourself that no one had ever seen.

“I’ve lost my grip on reality

Can’t seem to trust my reality

Don’t know who to turn to

I don’t know where to go

No one hears me crying

As I’m fighting back the pain

I’ve lost it all

And I don’t know where to find it

 How do you start a search

When you don’t know what you’re looking for

But it’s echoing through you like a ghost

Oh it chills me to the bone

How do I not know

I’m choking back the tears

As the world is shattering

How do I not know

 I’ve lost my grip on reality

Can’t seem to trust my reality

Don’t know who to turn to and

I don’t know where to go

No one hears me crying

As I’m fighting back the pain

I’ve lost it all

And I don’t know where to find it

 Can it be I’ve disappeared

Or gotten lost along the way

Oh I’ve risked it all

And now the darkness is calling my name

Where’s the strength to push it back

Oh how do I not know

I’ve just…

 I’ve lost my grip on reality

Can’t seem to trust my reality

Don’t know who to turn to and

I don’t know where to go

No one hears me crying

As I’m fighting back the pain

I’ve lost it all

And I don’t know where to find it

 How do I begin to find it

Where do I find it…”

The masked vigilante, at some point during your outburst, sat beside you and was now staring directly at you. He placed a hand on your knee before letting himself fall off the building.

“NO!” You screamed before you saw him land on a nearby rooftop. Has to be fucking dramatic doesn’t he. You got up from the edge of the building and slowly made your way back to your car.

As soon as you got home your head hit the pillow and you were out like a light. Waking up the next morning was brutal, you kept replaying the rooftop moment in your head. The toxin didn’t seem to affect him the way it did others, he only seemed to want to hurt himself. He didn’t abandon all his morals or start hallucinating (at least you think). What could possibly be in his head, that his greatest fear is himself?

Work was surprisingly dull, but you were grateful that it was Friday. You could go home and try to forget about last nights events. Or so you thought. Knee deep in a new book, you heard a knock at the fire escape. Red Hood? What the hell. You motioned for him to come in.

“You know, this is Gotham. You should probably lock that.”

“Oh look, he does speak when his mind hasn’t been infected with fear gas. Good to know.”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m here. I guess I wanted to thank you.”

“Of course, it’s kind of my job so.”

“But I’m not one of your Arkham patients.”

Of course, he already knew who you were. “Not yet anyways” you arched your eyebrow and gave him a sly smirk. Without another word, he seemed to make himself right at home. Walking into the kitchen, he opened all the cabinets in search of a mug and poured it full of the hot chocolate sitting on the stove before joining you on the couch.

“So is that like your go-to song when people tweak out on fear gas?”

“Heh, I don’t usually break into song during my sessions.” You lean in closer to him, “Despite what you’ve heard, life isn’t a musical.”

“Damn, well if I had your voice I would make mine a musical. Think of all the fantastic numbers I could do while punching people in the face. So much material to work with.”

“I don’t even think you would need to punch them if you broke into song. They would just collapse on the floor out of shear surprise.”

“Hey, whatever works doll…I just asked because. Those lyrics.”

“Yeah, I thought they may be applicable, that’s why I picked it.”

“You have more?! I gotta hear them now.”

“Psh, in your dreams maybe Red. I don’t even know you.”

“Do you want to?”

“Well,” you chuckled to yourself, “you’re in luck. I just moved here and don’t know a soul. You seem like a good person to start with.”

You must have talked the whole night with the vigilante before falling asleep on the couch, at least you don’t remember ever making your way to the bedroom. Yet here you were, waking up Saturday morning in your own bed, with the smell of French toast and coffee coming from the kitchen. What the fuck, is he still here? You pull back the covers and make your way to the kitchen to find someone cooking breakfast. Though that someone was no longer in his Red Hood get up, but you caught a glimpse of a mask.

“You’re in my apartment.”

“Yeah, I made a ‘thank you’ breakfast.” He turned from the stove and did a half bow. “You’re welcome, you’re welcome.”

Rolling your eyes, you walked over and grabbed coffee before gesturing at his outfit. “Did you even sleep? Or was the outfit change more important?”

“Well I didn’t want to hide this jawline from your view. That would just be cruel and unusual punishment.”

“And we wouldn’t want that after I saved your life.”

“Exactly. Now sit and prepare to be amazed.”

 ***

“Wow, okay, I’m amazed.” You mumbled out while shoveling more of the delicious food into your mouth.

“Slow down there, you aren’t on death row.”

You glared up at him but were too enveloped in the food to formulate a response.

“So, did you ever figure out how to find it?”

Can’t he just let me eat in peace. “Find what?”

“Your reality?”

“Oh man, are we going there?” Red Hood just shrugged if off, though he was actually curious. “Alright, Red. The truth is, not always. Some days things seem to be going well and the next day it feels like my entire life has exploded in my face.”

“Heh, I thought you were supposed to be the sane one.”

“Everyone is fighting their own battles.” You watched the vigilante stand up and walk over to the window, as he crawled out, he looked back at you.

“I like you, Y/N/N.”

Welcome to the life of a vigilante’s therapist, you thought as you cleaned up the mess from breakfast.

 ***

It had been nearly a week before you heard from the masked man again. This time there was no breakfast, only blood.

“What the hell, Red?”

“You’re a doctor, thought you could help.”

“I guess, technically, but not that kind! Why don’t you go to a real doctor?”

“Eh, it’s just a flesh wound. Come on, Y/N/N, you can manage.” You rolled your eyes as you walked to get your first aid kit.

“If this is going to be a regular thing, you are going to need to bring me actual medical supplies because I am so not funding your stupidity.”

“Deal.”

You sat next to him and got to work, “So, why come here? Don’t you have someone who patches you up.”

“Didn’t really think about that, just wanted to talk to – someone outside the life.”

“And what ever would you want to talk about Red.”

“Hmm…what did you do today?”

You couldn’t hold back you laugh as you finished bandaging his arm. “Seriously?” A small grin spread across his face. “Alright, I woke up at a solid 10:00am and made breakfast. Then played video games until about two hours ago, when I started writing some songs.”

“Oh, I wanna hear!”

“No.”

“Buzzkill…”

“Yeah, well. You’ve already heard more than anyone and I don’t even know your name.”

You continued to talk the rest of the night, until you put on a movie and fell asleep on the couch. Though you awoke the next morning, yet again, in your own bed, this time to the smell of eggs and bacon.

“This just going to be a weekend routine then?”

“If you’re lucky.”

 ***

You started getting visits, on either Friday or Saturday nights, every week. The same old story, he wanted to talk about random every day nonsense while you patched up his latest scrapes. You would wake up to the smell of breakfast and he would leave shortly after. It had been a few months now, and it was nearing 3 am Sunday morning, yet your new vigilante friend hadn’t shown up. You began pacing in your living room.

“What if he’s dead somewhere? How would I even know? I don’t even have a damn name. Of course, I had to go make friends with a damn vigilante. I mean, I’ve never even seen his eyes. Just the red and white of that domino mask he insists on wearing…because heaven forbid I see the color of his damn eyes.” Your rant is cut short by a faint laugh coming from your window. You ran over and slapped him in the shoulder. “YOU CAN’T FUCKING DO THAT I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD.”

“Aw, you care.”

“OF COURSE I FUCKING CARE YOU IDIOT. GET IN HERE NOW.”

“Alright mom, calm down. I was put on stakeout duty as punishment.”

You glared at him, “Punishment for what? Wait…punishment from who?!”

“Uh…Batman. I may or may not have taken the Batmobile on a joyride Thursday night.”

You stifled a laugh, “You really like to piss him off don’t you.”

“What can I say, it’s a gift.”

“One he probably would like to return.”

“Yeah.” Red Hood hung his head and walked over to the kitchen, in search of hot chocolate.

“Wow, alright. Struck a chord there. Wanna tell me what’s up Red?”

“I don’t need you to be my therapist, Y/N.”

“Okay, not trying to be. I know it’s probably strange for you…but generally when people care about someone, they do like to know what’s going on in their life. Including the shitty parts. Oh, and the hot chocolate ran out about two hours ago.”

He huffed and began stalking back towards the window when you grabbed his wrist. “Uh huh, buddy. One, it is 3 in the morning, I don’t care if you are the Red freaking Hood, you aren’t going home this late. Two, you DEFINITELY aren’t going home at 3 in the morning when you are this upset.”

“I’ve left your apartment later than 3 before.”

“Yeah, well I wasn’t awake to stop you so…now I am. Sit your ass down.”

“I could easily get passed you and leave you know.” He mumbled as he stumbled over to the couch.

“Yeah yeah, big tough masked man here.” You followed him to the couch, “What color even ARE your eyes?”

“Really, Y/N/N, really?”

“Well if you won’t tell me your damn name and I have to try and describe you to the police one night when you vanish off the face of the earth…it would be nice to have accurate information.”

“Jason.” He took off the red helmet, “Jason Todd,” and then the domino mask. You couldn’t form any words, you just sat there staring at him, mouth agape. Not because you knew who this person was, after all you were not native to the city and the rest of the world tended to sleep on the craziness that was Gotham City, but because after all this time he so nonchalantly revealed his identity. You figured he would have to be dead or on his dead bed. By the time you got over the shock of the reveal you got lost in his eyes. They were the most intense steel blue eyes you had ever seen. Impossibly blue. Could this man look more perfect, what the actual fuck.

“Uhm, Y/N/N? You good.”

You shook yourself out of your own mind, “Your eyes are like impossibly blue. You had to show off the jawline, but not those? Red, you are focused on the wrong attribute.” With that Jason’s mouth turned upwards as he doubled over laughing. You rose from your spot on the couch and waved your hand as you made your way to the bedroom. “I don’t lie and I better wake up to an amazing breakfast after the heart attack you gave me tonight.”

You did and Jason spent the entire day at your apartment, he said it was to make up for the time he lost on stakeout, but you didn’t really care about the reason.

“Alright, I’m going to let you get some sleep so you can deal with the crazy people tomorrow.” He finally said while getting off the couch.

“They aren’t crazy.”

“Sure Y/N/N. Normal people go to an asylum.”

You shrugged, “But what is normal?”

“No fun, that’s for sure.” Jason made his way to the window.

“You know, you can use the door…like a normal person.”

“If people saw the Red Hood walking out of your front door, what ever would they say?”

“One, like I care what they say. Two, I guess you’ll just have to keep some boring old civilian clothes here then.”

“Only if I can bring along a toothbrush too.”

“Deal.” You got off the couch and headed towards your bedroom, when you felt his hand grab your wrist and spin you towards him.

“Good, because I finally found a reality that I don’t ever want to lose.” Jason mumbled just before his lips crashed into yours.

[lazydoodlesandfanfic]

I Can’t Protect You Anymore (Bruce Wayne X Daughter!Reader)

Characters: Bruce Wayne X Daughter!Reader

Universe: DC, Batman

Warnings: Violence

ANGST

Request: Perhaps one where the reader is Bruce Wayne's daughter and he realises that she has been sneaking off every night. after she lies about it, he follows her and sees that she is meeting Jonathan Crane. he confronts her about it she gets angry and shouts. When Bruce tries to send Crane to Arkham Asylum, y/n defends Crane and then y/n and Crane run away. Maybe an angsty end where Bruce realises y/n is technically a criminal and be can't protect her anymore.

Bruce didn’t have the strongest relationship with you, and honestly the closest between you now was a lot less compared to when you were still a child. He didn’t often think about it, but when he did, his heart did ache. However, he always pushed it to the side, reminding himself that all his boys had been the same as they became young adults, and you were a grown woman now, and you were making your own path. He wasn’t going to stop that.

During his night as Batman, he rarely thought about you. When he did, it was worrying about your safety, hoping you got home in time, or wondering what he was going to get you for your birthday or reminding himself that you were coming to the mansion some time that week and to try and not get punched in the face to not worry you. Recently he’d been thinking about you a lot more recently.

It was a sort of gut feeling that something was wrong. It started the second you had mentioned to him that you’d been seeing a man recently. You refused to name him as your brothers were pestering you, wanting to tease you and scare him off. However, you assured he was good to you and was a doctor. While that was all good on the surface, the more he thought about it the more he realised how strangely to phrased it. You said he was good to you, not that he was a good man. Combined with him being a doctor in Gotham… he was worried that this man was far from a saint.

He had to push it back, hearing Barbara calling his name in his ear piece. “Sorry, can you repeat that Oracle?” He asked, finally paying attention.

“No problem. Crane has been spotted a few metres away from you.” She repeated. Bruce nodded, getting up from his spot and jumping off the building, gliding to the next one till he could see Jonathan’s car. He landed on the building near it, seeing Jonathan appearing out the car, looking into the nearby alleyway. He was waiting for someone. He was meeting someone.

Soon a figure emerged from the alley. A young woman, and Bruce got closer, practically right above them, being able to hear them. “You’ll catch a cold with that coat, come here.” Jonathan commented, slugging off his jacket, pulling the woman closer to wrap it around her. A soft giggle escaped her, and Bruce’s heart stopped. He knew that giggle. It was you. It was his little girl.

“I’ll be fine, you worry too much… good to see your face in one piece.” You commented, lifting a hand and resting it on his chin, examining his face, getting a chuckle from the doctor, before you leant forward, sharing a kiss with him. You only pulled away when Batman jumped down behind you, tearing you off him and pinning Crane to the car. You stumbled, not sure what to do as you saw the Dark knight pinning your boyfriend. You saw your dad pinning your boyfriend, and you realised how bad the situation was very quickly. If you tried to interfere to get your dad off him, then that’ll get you in trouble with him. If you called for him to stop, then Jonathan will know that your dad was not only the Dark Knight, but also that it was Bruce Wayne, and if you did nothing and watched… well, Jonathan will be thrown in jail, and you’ll have to talk to your dad anyway. Hell, in all situations you’ll have to talk to him. Luckily Jonathan came prepared with a canister, setting it off in Bruce’s face. It was a mild hallucinogenic that only lasted a few seconds and made him cough, but was enough to get him off, as Jonathan pushed him off, opening the door, and looked at you. You hardly thought, quickly getting in the passenger side. Jonathan closed the door, running around, jumping in the driver’s seat and driving away. You caught your dad’s eyes as he was getting up, and Crane sped off.

“You okay?” Crane asked, glancing over to you. You nodded stiffly, breathing finally when you felt him reach over and take your hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll sort this. He won’t hurt you, I promise. You’re innocent in all this.”

Not in his eyes. Not anymore. Your mind reminded you, but you gulped, and squeezed his hand back. “What about you- t-that smoke was close to you, are you okay? What if he gets you?” You asked, turning the attention to him while checking in the mirror for any sight of your dad.

“I’m fine. I’ve built an immunity to it. I don’t care if he gets me, I’ll get out soon enough. I won’t be gone long.” He assured you, focusing on the road in front of him. “I’ll drop you off down the road from your apartment, you get out and you walk very calmly to your apartment and lock your door, okay?” He told you.

You could already feel your phone vibrating in your pocket, and you knew exactly who it was. You knew he’d be there, or one of your brothers. They’ll all go against you, force you to leave Jonathan and treat you like a traitor, probably thinking you were now working with him, when in reality you purely loved the man and he had kept his work far away from you until now. You knew if he pulled up and you got out that car, the chances of you seeing him again and your family seeing you in the same way and trusting you would be unlikely…

“Keep driving.” You told him. He glanced over at you. “Y-You mentioned that safe house that was nearly done out of the city- we could go there, right?”

“We? Y/N, I’m not dragging you into this.” Jonathan told you.

“Jonathan, he saw my face, he’ll find me soon enough and he’ll use me as leverage or something. I’m a criminal in his eyes at this point. If you’re going down, I’m going down with you.” You explained. He was silent for a second.

“…Are you sure?” He asked. You nodded. He silently cursed, before nodding. “Okay. I’ll pull up, you run in and get what you need. How long you need?” He asked.

“Give me 5 minutes.” You told him. He pulled up, you jumped out, ran in, going to your apartment, opening the door and immediately ran to your bedroom, grabbing a suitcase and stuffed essentials.

“Y/N.” You froze, hearing your dad’s voice. You stood up, turning to him. He hadn’t took his mask off. “What are you doing?” He asked you. You could hear the betrayal in his voice, and you could feel your heart breaking. You shrugged.

“I love him, dad.” You told him simply, turning to your suitcase and zipping it up. “I’ve been seeing him for months. He’s not the scarecrow to me, or Dr Crane. He’s Jonathan. He’s refused to get me involved in his work, he’s kept it away from me… I’ve seen a whole new side to him and… I love him, dad.” You ranted, picking up your bag and walking to the door. Your dad caught your arm, making you stop.

“If you walk out that door and get in that car with him, then you’re a criminal, Y/N. You’ll be assisting a criminal in escaping law enforcement. I won’t be able to protect you.” He told you. You swallowed hard, turning to your dad. You put your suitcase down, hugging your dad tightly.

“I love you dad. I love you, I love my brothers, I love Alfred… I love you so much, and I can’t thank you enough for raising me. Please remember that.” You told him, kissing his cheek before letting go, grabbing your bag and running out.

Bruce didn’t move. He didn’t chase after you, even when he heard Crane’s car speeding away. His hand raised to his heart, feeling it aching. He’s just lost his daughter to a criminal. She chose him over her family… and it broke his heart, knowing there’s no way that the family or he can forgive you for it.

Hope you like it! If you have any questions, please send them in! 

*Not my gif

TAGS: @courtneychicken  @graysonmalfoy @bellero @captain-peanut-at-your-service @likiyoshi-lijie @aesthetjic @originalpottervengerlock @supernatural-pan @esoltis280 @lena-stan-xavier @lady-of-lies @sebstanismylife 

[let-me-help-you-bruce]

Scarecrow. Jonathan Crane X Reader

I thought I would try to reach out and write about different characters for a change. Sorry if it is a disgrace :) 

Everything seemed to be going as planned, Jonathan had created a more potent strain of his fear toxin that was only activated when caught on fire, leaving the people of Gotham to breathe in their.. fear? or so he says. When he first told me of his plan I grew confused. “Jon how will you execute this plan of yours.” He only smiled lifting my chin with his index finger to connect my lips to his. “You will see when the time comes my dear.” He had his men rent out apartments all over the city stocking them full with barrels of his toxin as well as explosives. He was going to blow it all up on May 8th at 9:30pm during the windy season in Gotham.  

I waited in our house my nerves eating away at my rationality, it was 9:20pm leaving only ten minutes until Gotham was “Saved” If anything was going to go bad it would be now. My mind raced with possibilities that would take Jonathan away from me. What if he was killed by one of the people he created? or taken by the bat? I bit at my nails walking around the room he had me locked up in for three days now, not for malicious purposes but “To save you from those out there when the time comes” Naively I agreed to it not knowing he would be gone that entire time leaving me completely alone. I shivered looking at the clock 9:29.

 “You will hear it love. You will hear the bomb go off followed by screams that’s how you will know I succeeded” I heard his voice snaking around in my ear like some sort of nightmare. Usually I longed to hear his smooth voice but now it only brought me fear.. Being the man he is I suppose it would bring him happiness knowing that. It was 931 now no explosions. My heart shuttered bringing tears to my eyes. “Oh god no” I collapsed to my knees feeling the cherry oak wood boards grind against my bones. My sorrow was stolen by the vibrating of my phone off of the study desk. Weakly my legs carried me to it. The message was from Jonathan which read. “Scared you didn’t I ;)” A smile broke free on my face “Son of a bitch” I laughed chucking the phone a crossed the room I bit my lip giggling to myself. How dull my life would be if he hadn’t have graced it. Suddenly a boom exploded sounding to be right next to my head, I didn’t have time to comprehend why it had sounded so close due to my body being thrown against one of our many bookshelves. My eyes fuzzed in and out of consciousness only being able to identify the smoke that came hurtling in through the gaping hole in the wall.

...

“Where did you find her” was the first thing I heard when I woke up followed by unclear sources of light. I tried to move my arms and legs but they seemed to be restricted. “Jon?” I said loudly hoping he was in the room. “Her face needs to be covered don’t you understand what this could do to her!” I heard a nightmarish voice screech. Suddenly the scene around me cleared and I could see the what seemed to be vast fields of nothing. I was completely alone in a land of pure white only being able to hear those terrible voices. “Maybe it’s time for a taste of your own medicine Crane” A darker voice said. “Please somebody answer me! I can’t take being here!” Tears rolled down my face again. There was no answer only the two voices morphing into one horrible fluctuations of noise. 

Panicking I looked for a way out trying to scope out some sort of reason for this environment but there was none. There was no doors no windows only endless white surrounding me, “Get me out of here someone please!” I screamed feeling the reason that I had previously been looking for slip away. Being left alone was my greatest fear ever since my dad locked me in the basement on accident, it had only been an accident but I remember the darkness closing around me as he shut the door leaving my imagination the run free. I tried to remember the feeling of relief I felt once he opened the door again having remembered I was down there but I couldn’t my thoughts were slipping away from me. “Dad?” I said when at what I assumed to be the end of the whiteness a black storm of some sort rushed towards me. My eyes struggled to stay open enough to see the storms unraveling, even as something was shaking me quiet violently I was taken away into the blackness.

....

Y/n had slumped over on the floor, her brain having snapped from the intense amount of trauma she had just taken part in. The Bat had snatched her from our house exposing her lungs to the most potent strain of my fear toxin I had ever created. He brought her to the warehouse I was cooped up in tossing her on the floor like some proud hunters kill. She was writhing and crying out for help, help from the delusions of being completely alone even though I was positioned right next to her attempting to contact her, attempting to coo words into her ear that would assure her that I was there. I had screamed at Batman telling she was innocent and didn’t need to experience my creation, her face needed to be covered or the women I loved would disappear for good. He just smirked telling me I needed a taste of my own medicine.

 In my pocket I always kept a syringe of  the toxin in case of up close confrontations like this one, his bat mask wouldn’t protect him this time. With a snarl I dug the needle deep into his neck. He groaned punching me strongly in the face, knocking me off of my feet. Blood dripped out of my mouth as I watched him struggle to the floor bringing me to the situation I was in now. “Let’s go my dear.” I said to her. I slipping my arms easily under her, she was incredibly light which made the lifting process easy. In my lab I kept an abundant stash of an antidote for moments such as this but something told me that it was to late. She was lost in the vast cavities of her fear stricken brain. 

[masteroffearshusband49020]

Cuddling with No Man's Land Scarecrow

You and John both sat on the couch next to each other. You gently placed your hand on his and looked at him, waiting to meet his gaze. He turned to slowly and a little hesitantly. Your expression was soft, but it was clear you wanted something from him.

"Yes, dear?" He asked you wearily. You held his hand in both of yours and kissed it. His muscles relaxed and he smiled at you feebly.

"I want to get closer to you, is that ok?" You asked, stroking his hand. He tensed a bit.

"How far do you want to go?" He asked hesitantly.

"I just want to hold you, to cuddle you." You reassured him. His expression softened. "Is that ok?" You asked again. He swallowed and nodded 'yes'. You cupped his face. He looked at you, a bit anxious. You gave him a smile to reassure him. His anxiety fizzled away and you both leaned in to kiss one another. You let him lie on you as you ran your fingers through his hair. You very slowly began running your hands across his body. You started off slow and didn't go very far at first, easing him into it. You touched your forehead with his, proving to him that there was nothing to be afraid of.

[masteroffearshusband49020]

Master List Part 2

BTAS Scarecrow from his first episode specifically

He cross dresses for you

BTAS Scarecrow

He cross dresses for you

He comforts you after the loss of your pet

Asking him if he loves you

He meets Salecrow part 1

He inhaled Fear Toxin

He meets Salecrow part 2

Waking up with him

Discussing having a baby with him (afab, gn reader)

Two Sides of the Same Coin

He finds reader's SH scars

Meeting Ebenezer Laughton

TNBA Scarecrow

He cross dresses for you

Caring for him after a Fear Toxin accident

Salecrow

He cross dresses for you

Taking care of him

Sick!Salecrow x reader

He refuses to let go of you

He meets BTAS Scarecrow part 1

He meets BTAS Scarecrow part 2

He meets Year One Scarecrow

He's touch starved and scared

He meets Knight Terrors Scarecrow

Comforting him

Yellow Lantern Scarecrow

He cross dresses for you

Mof Scarecrow

He cross dresses for you

Trying to fix your lipstick by kissing him

Confessing your feelings to him

Giving him flowers

Arkham Asylum Scarecrow

He cross dresses for you

Arkham Knight Scarecrow

He cross dresses for you

You give him flowers

Helping him after he gets injected with fear toxin

Potential reader pregnancy

Scare Beast

Biting him

Nightwing Scarecrow

Proposing to him

Biting him

He cross dresses for you

Man Bat Scarecrow

Proposing to him

Biting him

He cross dresses for you

Kings of Fear Scarecrow

He cross dresses for you

Year One Scarecrow

Cuddling with him

Grabbing his rear

Proposing to him

Giving him flowers

He cross dresses for you

He meets Salecrow

Playing hide and seek with him

Fear State Scarecrow

Proposing to him

Biting him

He cross dresses for you

Harley Quinn comics Scarecrow

Cuddling with him

He cross dresses for you

No Man's Land Scarecrow

Cuddling with him

He cross dresses for you

HQAS Scarecrow

Cuddling with him

He cross dresses for you

Biting him

Catwoman Scarecrow

He cross dresses for you

God of Fear Scarecrow

He cross dresses for you

Legends of the Dark Knight Scarecrow

He cross dresses for you

Grabbing his rear

As the Crow Flies Scarecrow

He cross dresses for you

Scare Beast

He cross dresses for you

Knight Terrors Scarecrow

Biting him

Cuddling with him

He meets Salecrow

Batwoman Scarecrow

Biting him

Ghoul

Cuddling with him

TNBA Mad Hatter

Biting him

BTAS Riddler

Not so secret admirer

BTAS Two Face

Two Sides of the Same Coin

Ebenezer Laughton

Meeting Jonathan Crane