#Bangs x scarecrow canon

[bangsinc]

The master of fear.. year one!

#bangsinc #bangs x scarecrow canon #gotham scarecrow #dc scarecrow #the scarecrow #year one scarecrow #jonathan crane #batman fanart #dc fanart #batman fandom #fanart

[toxicanonymity]

Hey look at that! That's your stepdad!Joel 😁

roadside (set in the past)

700 words, stepdad!Joel x f!reader

stepdad masterlist

A/N: Alright, I guess I'm doing another alt timeline where he gets in trouble, damnit 😭. SUMMARY: Alt. ending to uber. WARNINGS: I8+ PWP, groping, BJ, mutual touching, humiliation, the usual baiting/pressure from reader.

You feel a damp spot under your palm as you grope him through his joggers. When you reach into his waistband and feel the smooth skin of his shaft for the first time, he swerves, and red and blue lights flash behind you. "FUCK. Happy now?"

The cops make him do a field sobriety test and his massive erection is tenting his sweats the whole time. Holding his arms straight out with his hair sticking every which way, his tight white t-shirt rides up and his silhouette in the red and blue lights looks like a slutty scarecrow with a raging hard-on. The cops get a kick out of it. Combined with the little damp spot, it's obvious the real reason he swerved, but they cuff him for a few minutes just to teach him a lesson while they give you both a lecture about how there's a time and a place. Then when he's uncuffed, he can finally adjust himself. One of the cops nods toward Joel's crotch and says, "shouldn't drive with that big'a distraction" and fails to suppress a smirk. "If ya needa finish, just put on your hazards, k?"

The cops laugh as they get in their patrol car and drive off. You get in the car in silence and put on the hazards then reach for his cock again. He throws your wrist away and you say "you heard him, c'mon." He shakes his head, jaw clenched, glasses beginning to fog up, refusing to look at you.

"Just lemme get it wet for you," you plead.

"FUCK," he yells and bangs the steering wheel. "God damnit," he mutters and checks you out. "Fuck," he whispers and tilts his seat all the way back.

He buries his eyes in the crook of his elbow, bulging arm muscles straining his sleeves, and his shirt rides up again, exposing his happy trail. You take his hard cock out and inhale his musk, memorizing the scent. Your clit twitches and you just barely move his smooth, warm skin over the stiff shaft as you admire it. God, he has a nice one. It could be used a sex toy mold, no shit. You lick from base to tip then swirl your tongue around the tip and he gasps as you take his length into your mouth, the tip hitting the back of your throat. You suck and tongue him hard, and before long he's moaning, and his chest is rising and falling with heavier breaths.

"Alright," he grumbles when he's close, and you keep going. "That's enough," he snaps. Then he pulls up his shirt, takes his cock from you, pumps it twice, and begins to release with a shudder. You clench your thighs together as you watch and the sight alone almost makes you cum untouched.

Holy shit, the cum. The look on his face. His brows furrowed, eyes pinched shut, mouth hanging open with rope after rope making a mess of his tummy.

"Holy shit," you mutter, knowing that whatever happens, this is something you won't forget. Your cunt spasms just thinking about what if you were on his dick right now getting all of that pumped into you. You reach between your legs and rub yourself for a frantic 10 seconds. Holding a breast with your other hand, then you moan. And Jesus, he's just now finishing. When you moan, he shoves his hand under you to catch your release. He's catching his breath, hand soaked between your legs, and says "it aint happeninn, sweetheart," slowly withdrawing his hand which goes straight to his nose and mouth.

You use your balled up stockings to dry yourself off, then he yanks them away from you and stuffs them in his pocket. He puts the seat back up, starts the car, and drives you home in silence with his t-shirt sticking to the massive trail of cum on his stomach.

--------

For another alt timeline of stepdad getting in trouble, see "what if you bailed Joel out for indecent exposure?" 😭

NOTE: In SD canon you, don't jack him off or blow him until subsequent parts of the story.

#stepdad!joel #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #stepdad!joel miller #joel miller drabble #stepdad!joel ☠️ #joel miller fanfic #toxicanonymity ☠️

[summercourtship]

stay to burn (only to drown instead): chapter six: karma [part II]

masterpost | ao3 link

jonathan crane x reader; bruce wayne x reader; edward nashton x reader | warnings: canon typical violence, sexual content | word count: 6355 words

DISCLAIMER: these chapters are not meant to be read alone. not every chapter has content for one of the three pairings listed. this is an ongoing fanfiction that I am cross-posting here on tumblr, not a series of one-shots.

chapter one |previous part

“Aren’t scarecrows supposed to be like… nice? Getting rid of birds, helping crops, you know?”

You were sitting in the hallway of a university building you were rarely in, waiting for the door to open to your next class which had been relocated for the day, when a conversation a few feet away from you drifted down to you.

“Maybe it’s ironic? I dunno, he might’ve not come up with it himself. I mean, the mask, sure, but maybe the newspapers came up with his name.”

“Well, I was reading this thread-”

“On Twitter? Or Reddit?”

The silence that followed the girl's question apparently said it all, if the other girl’s disgusted scoff was anything to go off of. Of course, Twitter should be the only source of reliable information.

You rolled your eyes, but kept them trained at your notebook, your hand paused above the paper, any thoughts of writing dashed as you focused on your eavesdropping. You doubted either of them had any information you didn’t already have, especially if the only two sources they could think of were social media sites. But you wished they would just talk about it so you could know if they were even worth eavesdropping on!

“Anyway, I was reading this thread and it pointed out that all of the places he has targeted are Gotham’s largest suppliers of dopamine. He’s even been able to get shipments as they’ve arrived in the harbor, before they’ve gotten to the warehouses.”

No, I know that. Give me something new, something concrete, something else I can look into.

“Maybe he’s just really sad.” Her friend sounded incredibly disinterested. You held back another scoff, because while you hadn’t exactly done the best in your high school chemistry class, you had done enough research now to know that dopamine by itself wasn’t used to increase happiness, even though it was known as the happiness chemical.

“It scares me, though. Anyone stealing chemicals…” Her voice drifted away from you, the girls obviously packed up and started to move away to sit somewhere else in the building, though you’re sure she was going on about Sarin gas attacks or anthrax. The usual examples when people talked about biological weapons and terrorism.

But something she said set off an alarm bell in your brain, the offhand comment she had made about the situation scaring her, something in it reminding you of something else. Only for the thought to be dashed by the loud clang of the door banging against the wall, a stream of students filing out as their class had ended. Quickly, you wrote what she said down on a scrap of paper before ripping it out of the notebook and slipping it into your pocket.

You stood up, putting your notebook back into your bag. You went through your normal classes like you were in a trance, turning in your assignments on time and getting your usual decent grades but never rising above it. No, you were well aware that you were saving your energy and good work ethic for Dr. Crane’s class, even though you didn’t have much to do anymore. It wasn’t like you were doing the assignments and he’d stopped having you grade them two weeks ago.

Well, at least I’ll have Arkham to focus on soon.

It wasn’t necessarily a happy thought, but it was something. The approach of another new chapter in your life was nerve-wracking, especially one that you had no parameters for what to expect. You had no expectations for what the job would be like, due to Jonathan still not giving you much information besides “it’s a secretarial job”. Which would be fine, if you had any outside experience for what that entailed, but your knowledge of receptionist/secretary jobs came purely from film and television, and that’s not saying much.

When you returned home that night, you put the scrap of paper from your pocket on the wall of your living room on the few previously blank feet of space beside the balcony door. You’d felt a bit like a mad woman when you’d started it, but stepping back and looking at the clippings from the newspaper and printed articles, pictures and your handwritten notes gave you a sense of satisfaction you hadn’t felt in a very long time.

In the center of it all, pinned to the wall with a clear thumb tack, was the wrinkled list you’d made the morning after your first encounter with the Scarecrow.

Yes, you’d told Jonathan that you wouldn't look into the Scarecrow. But once the idea had planted itself in your brain, it was impossible to uproot it. At least you hadn’t moved on to the next stage of your research, which you’d been toying around with. You were, admittedly, tired of just scouring the internet and newspapers for information. You wanted to go and find it yourself.

But you held off, having enough self-preservation to keep you safe in your apartment. For now, at least. After all, it was the same urge to find the information yourself and not second-hand that led you to the mayor’s funeral and the election night party at Gotham Square.

You were examining the collage when you noticed out of the window the familiar warm light of the Bat Signal, bright against the dark sky. There was no moon tonight, something you noted passively. They say that the full moon makes people behave weird. But in your experience, it was the new moon that made them bold.

Pulling the thin curtain over the door shut, your mind couldn’t stop itself from wandering to thoughts of the Batman. Mainly, you wondered what he was doing, who he was fighting. Because if the signal was lit, he was surely out there fighting and trying to make Gotham safer, even if it was ultimately a futile effort. If it was lowly criminals like robbers or vandals, or if he was going after a real villain, the kind that would haunt your nightmares. You wondered if he had any encounters with the Scarecrow, what he thought about it all. Surely, he must’ve at least looked into it, stealing chemicals was a big deal, right?

Tugging at the sleeve of your cardigan, you tried to ignore the pit in your stomach as you thought about whether you’d ever see him again.

“I’m applying for an internship at Wayne Enterprises.”

Jonathan’s pen stopped scratching against his paper for a moment before continuing as if it never stopped.

“Why there?” Jonathan didn’t look up from his desk. You were splayed out on one of the leather chairs in front of his desk, your knees hooked over the arm and your head hanging over the other side. You held a book over your face, which wasn’t even one you needed to read for a class. It was a familiar title, one you’d read a few times before and had come to think of as a comfort book.

Jonathan was working on something that he hadn’t felt the need to tell you about, but he hadn’t given you anything else to grade or look over. But since you’d begun to see each other more often outside of a professional context, it felt weird to not attend your office hours with him, even if you had nothing to do.

Hence, your book.

“They had one.” You shrugged, still not looking at him but from the corner of your eye. “And there was one as a records assistant. Personally, I think they’re still scrambling after the Renewal money-laundering shit was blown wide open. I know there’s been a few statements from Bruce Wayne saying that he’s starting from the ground up with that whole project, but who knows how long that’ll take. But the internship would be a good experience, even if my hands aren’t actually getting dirty in the files.”

While you were speaking, Jonathan had put his pen down and shut the folio he was working in with an air of finality before getting out of his chair and crossing around the desk to stand by you.

You rested your book down on your chest, looking up at him.

“Hi.” You smiled. “Are you sure there’s nothing for me to do?”

“I can think of something.”

You swung your legs down from the arm, sitting up properly in the seat. Your book fell to your lap, and you’re not even sure you remembered to mark your place. But, ultimately, it didn’t matter. Because he was right in front of you, looking like a carved statue of a man. Picturesque, unreal.

He plucked the book off of your lap, examining the back.

“I didn’t take you as someone who’d like this kind of book.”

“Well, I’m full of surprises.”

“That you are.” He handed the book back, leaning over you to place it on your lap before bracing himself on the arm of the chair, his face right in front of yours. “So, have you put in your application for this internship?”

“It was due two days ago, so yes.” You looked at his lips but didn’t make any moves.

“I’m a bit disappointed you didn’t ask me to look over it.” He returned the favor.

“You’ve seemed so busy lately, and I didn’t want to add to it.” You shrugged, your voice barely above a whisper. “Besides, it was pretty basic.”

“I see.”

“I’ll let you know if I hear back from them, don’t worry.” You didn’t add that you didn’t think you would hear back, that internships at Wayne Enterprises were highly coveted amongst upperclassmen and recent graduates alike. An internship there could give you powerful connections for the rest of your professional and personal life.

He seemed to sense your resignation about the position, frowning slowly. Whatever bubble that’d been building between you popped, and you were brought back to the reality of the moment- you were in a stuffy office and posed awkwardly in an uncomfortable chair.

“They would be lucky to have you.” He straightened up, moving away from your chair again. “But don’t overload yourself with work.”

“Do you expect Arkham to increase my workload?”

“Not at all. But it is stressful, at times.”

“I’ve been working retail for the past year. I think I can handle it.”

He only smiled, which was a relief because you had meant it as a joke and weren’t sure you could handle a lecture from him right now about how retail was actually nothing like working in an asylum. Not at all.

Because you were just going to be Jonathan’s assistant, the hiring process had been simple. So simple it didn’t quite seem legitimate. But you filled out the same tax forms as all the other jobs you worked, so at least you were employed in the eyes of the IRS. And that was legitimate enough for you.

Scanning over the contract for employment with Arkham, you didn’t miss how it was for one full year of employment. When you’d pointed it out to Jonathan, he simply shrugged and said the asylum was understaffed and needed to ensure they’d have enough people for at least a little while. When you asked if you needed to sign the contract that held you in that job for a year, he said it was non-negotiable. You knew that signing it didn’t mean they would force you to stay at the asylum if you wanted to quit, but it was enough to give you pause.

It meant that you had no easy way out if things should go south, that you couldn’t just up and leave like you had your last job. It would mean actually discussing leaving with Jonathan before you left, the prospect of which was slightly terrifying.

But with Jonathan standing over your shoulder, you quickly got over it and signed.

Taking your papers, Jonathan entered his office, leaving the door open behind him, an obvious invitation to follow. You entered, ignoring the ridiculous feeling that you had just signed over your soul and were now in the Devil's Den.

“I’ll get these returned to the hiring manager later. Today won’t be your first official day here but I’ll give you a more in depth tour of the building than the one you received last time.”

“Right.” You bit your lip. “And when will my first official day be…?”

“We can discuss scheduling when we get back to my office.”

With that, you left his office, passing by the sad desk that would become your new workspace. You already had some vague ideas of what you wanted to do with your area, items and decor to make it seem more home-y.

“Most of the places I will show you are necessary for you to know, at least their locations. If I need you to run papers around the building, it will be important for you to know where exactly you’re going and the most effective way to get there. And Arkham can be a bit… labyrinthine.”

An SAT word, nice. You think it to yourself jokingly, but he was right. The hallway layout of the hospital made no sense, especially not when you considered that these buildings had been renovated so many times in their history which should have made it more accessible rather than less.

“And paperwork will be the main part of your job.”

You walked quickly through the halls, down a single flight of stairs to the main atrium. He brought you through the hall into a large room that was separated into smaller blocks of space by half-walls and windows. On one of the exterior walls were a series of signs, too small and dusty for you to make out from your spot by the entrance of the room. Above all of them, painted on the wall, was the word INTAKE. One of the smaller areas was filled with boxes and clothes hanging on racks. When you passed it, the musty scent of clothes that have been sitting undisturbed for a very long time wafted into the walkway.

“It’s rare but sometimes we do release our patients back into society.”

Staring into the small area, you noticed that a lot of the boxes had undisturbed cobwebs connecting them to each other, that the clothes were full of holes from moths. From the looks of it, no one had been released in a long time.

You continued wordlessly through to the end of the room, not venturing into the interior of the room further. Jonathan simply pointed out where the guard working intake sat, the one currently on duty obviously fighting the urge to fall asleep at his desk.

Jonathan took you to the rec room, which was empty, and the cafeteria, also empty. Both rooms were large and dreary, much what you expected from them, with no lights except for the emergency lights that always stayed on. Both had the lingering smell of mold and something gone sour, whether it was body odor or food. Again, he pointed out where the guards and aides would be stationed when inmates were in the rooms.

You hoped, for your sake, that you would rarely have to step foot into either of the rooms.

As you walked on from the cafeteria, Jonathan wordlessly opened a nondescript door. Inside was a narrow cement stairwell, the metal railing rusting underneath chipped black paint. You turned to go upwards before you realized that Jonathan was already making his way down into the bowels of the asylum. Groaning internally and unable to stop yourself from wondering what exactly you had gotten yourself into, you began to follow him down.

But you couldn’t stop your small groan when he opened the door to the first level of the basement (the rest of the staircase down was blocked off with a metal gate, and when you peered over the edge you only saw the stairs slowly descending into darkness).

The basement of Arkham was initially like the rest of the building. In desperate need for some TLC but still presentable. But as you walked further into its depths, the less maintained it was. The floor became dull with questionable stains while the tiles on the wall were chipped in more places than not. The lights turned from a sterile fluorescent white to a dim yellow, the light bulbs buzzing above your heads as you walked past mysterious metal door after mysterious metal door. A majority of the door’s tiny windows were blocked out, rendering the interior of the room safe from your prying gaze.

“Where exactly are we going?”

“You’ll see.” He turned to look back over his shoulder at you. “Don’t worry.”

Finally, Jonathan stopped in front of a door that was identical to the others you’d passed on your way down here. The metal door creaked as he opened it, revealing a modestly sized office space.

“Here is my second office, the one I take most of my appointments in.”

You walked in, slowly taking in the space.

Oh, this is awful.

It was certainly different from his office upstairs or even his office at the university. This office was smaller, with black file cabinets along one wall, thick binders lined up along the tops. It obviously was a space with a purpose, the chairs in front of the desk worn with barely noticeable grooves from fingernails in the wooden arm-rests.

Looking down, you frowned. On the floor were small scratches, clearly from furniture being moved around and scraping against the tile. Something about them made you uneasy. His entire second office made you uneasy, but maybe it was just the claustrophobia from being below the surface of the island and in a tiny dark room.

Luckily, he also wasn’t eager to linger in the room, allowing you to peer around for a few minutes before opening the door again- it automatically shut behind the two of you- and leading you back into the dim hallway.

“Further down the hallway are Arkham’s records.” Jonathan pointed down the other side of the hallway, which was lit by a singular yellow light that flickered every few seconds. Somewhere in the distance, the ceiling was leaking, an audible drip-drip-drip that gave the entire hallway the smell of stagnant water in addition to the dank, earthy fragrance of mold.

You turned back to Jonathan, eyes lingering on every crack in the cinder-block and the cobwebs on the low ceiling. You’re honestly surprised anyone is allowed down here in the first place, let alone patients. For what it was worth, his office at least didn’t smell as bad as the hallway.

“Do you spend a lot of time down here?”

Jonathan smiled. “Not if I can help it.”

“Good. It’s horrifying.” You truly meant it, even if you smiled as you said it.

“I know.” He smiled back.

He led you back through the hallway, opening the same door into the stairwell. From the other side, it was also identical to every other door.

God I hope I’m never down here alone.

“I have one last thing to show you for today.”

You nodded, before affirming vocally after realizing that he couldn’t see you as you walked up the stairs. You continued past the first floor landing onto the second floor, where his office and your new workspace were located. But when he opened the door, he did not take you in the direction of his office but rather the opposite, into a part of the asylum you hadn’t been yet.

Finally, after a few minutes of silent walking as you took in every inch of your surroundings (even though most of the hallways in Arkham started to blend together, they were all so similar- you didn’t even think you had a good mental map of the layout, it was so confusing at times) he stopped by another metal door.

“You’ll rarely come back here, don’t worry. But there may be the occasional errand that sends you down this way, though I try to do those ones myself.”

Jonathan slid his card into the small keypad by the door, the heavy click of the lock unlatching following as his card exited the slot. Turning the handle, Jonathan pushed the rusted door open to reveal a long line of cells.

“Shit.” You didn’t realize the word escaped your mouth until you saw the quirk of Jonathan’s lip. If he wasn’t about to guide you into one of Arkham’s cell blocks, you might’ve delivered a swift slap to his arm at his blithe reaction to your distress. Might’ve.

As you entered the cellblock, you looked up at the second floor of cells. Large skylights let in the dim natural light of Gotham, though it was lost somewhere in the sterile lighting of the hospital. A thin staircase led up to the catwalks that served as walkways for the upper-level, their grates rusty and in need of a good dusting. But Jonathan walked right past the stairs, so you lowered your gaze and examined the first floor.

The corridor of cells was wide, the walkway separated by a railing. Arrows on the floor indicated which direction you were supposed to walk on each side. At both ends of the block were offices for the guards, their glass windows smudged with fingerprints. The cell doors themselves were made of metal and glass, with thin holes in the door allowing the inmate to speak out into the empty space for no one to hear.

And speak they did. The hallway was filled with the cacophony of voices, some more intelligible than others.

As you looked down the cell block, you saw him.

Edward was waiting by his window, his face pressed against the glass as he watched your slow approach, like he had been expecting you. It would be funny if you weren’t terrified. Not just because of him, but all the other inmates were free to leer at you as you were escorted down their hall, their first entertainment in a long time.

Is this how Clarice felt as she came up on Hannibal’s cage?

You didn’t realize that you had stopped in front of the cell until Jonathan started walking back to you, apparently only just noticing that he was alone. The inmate a few doors down from Edward made a low comment to Jonathan, which he ignored, with the only indication that he had heard him was a quick flick of his piercing eyes to the side.

Edward had taken a step away from the door, no longer pressed against it but still close, staring at you with the same expression as two weeks prior. Like he was smug, though you had no idea what he had to be smug about, especially not when it came to you.

Then he spoke.

“I know you.” His voice was light, conversational. Like his mind was stuck somewhere else and he wasn’t all the way with you. But his words still shocked you, even if you weren’t sure he knew exactly what he was saying.

“What?” You take a step backwards like he’d broken through the glass and slapped you in the face. He wasn’t talking about… “No, I was here a couple of weeks ago, you might’ve seen me then and-”

“No.” His voice was firm, startling you with the sudden change in his demeanor from airy to almost domineering. From disoriented to completely in control of his surroundings. “You were there in City Hall.”

As the words left his mouth, you remembered him, where you’d seen his face before, plain and unassuming as it was. Why hadn’t you placed his face when you’d seen his picture on the news, why had it taken until this moment to remember that you’d seen him before?

“It is karma, really.”

Marie was leaning on the railing, looking down at city hall’s ostentatious interior. You whipped your head around from where you’d also been looking down, but the movement caused you to stumble backwards into the person behind you. You mumbled an apology without even looking back at them, eyes focused on Marie.

“You really shouldn’t be saying things like that at a funeral.”

“You agree with me, you said the exact same thing the other day! You know I don’t care about this shit, you’re the one who’s been talking about it nonstop!”

You inhale sharply, trying to avoid the embarrassment of being around someone so shameless at a funeral, the shame of being ousted like this in public. Though you're sure no one was actually listening to your conversation.

“But you shouldn’t talk about it like that at the funeral of the guy!”

“You didn't have to drag me here.”

You furrowed your brows, suddenly more annoyed than you wanted to admit. You asked her to come because you were nervous. Nervous about the direction your paper was taking, about how it seemed to be morphing into a project based around the criminal and not the victim.

“It's for my project! Besides, I didn’t want to come al-”

Someone cleared their throat behind you, the same person who you’d knocked into. You looked back at them, realizing it was just an ordinary guy, a tense but polite smile on his face. There was no other way to describe him. Taller than you, but not in a way that was intimidating. The kind of man your eyes would slide right over on the street. Background noise.

“Am I in your way?” Why did you ask that? It was a general attendance, standing room only event for the public. You arrived three hours ago to get to this spot. He should have planned better if he wanted a better view. But still, you moved to the side, giving him space to look at the memorial.

“Thanks.” He muttered, shuffling past you to the railing. Marie gave you a wide eyed look, as if to say that you were a fool for moving from your spot, or at least that the guy was a weirdo. You returned with your own exasperated stare, tired of her judging someone she’d never met.

“You’re too nice to people.” She muttered, a bit too loud if the turn of the man’s head was anything to go off of. You shushed her, resisting the urge to apologize to the man. Maybe he just liked the mayor and wanted to pay his respects (doubtful, but you never know).

And then you completely forgot about the entire encounter moments after you found another spot to squeeze yourself along the railing. If other things hadn’t happened that day, maybe you would’ve thought back on it as a missed meet cute, but you were quickly distracted by the DA’s appearance in a collar bomb and the chaos that followed as you were escorted out of the building and told to go home.

No, you didn’t even remember the man when his face was on the news, his photo plastered on the screen with the headline RIDDLER APPREHENDED AND IN CUSTODY.

“Oh my god.”

“Karma, right?” He cocked his head to the side and a shiver ran down your spine at the thought of him listening to the conversation that you’d had- about him, no less, when he’d been at the scene of the funeral to watch the chaos that he’d planned unfold.... “How’d that project go?”

“I never-“ you stopped yourself, remembering that he didn’t need to know you never turned it in, that the anarchy that he caused at Gotham Square Garden put you in such a state you didn’t want to leave your apartment for fear of being shot at, targeted by faceless monsters in the night. That the only reason you passed the class was because you were lucky enough your professor was understanding and pulled some strings with the weight of other assignments. Besides, even if you had finished it and were able to turn it in, it would’ve been insensitive considering that it was about the terrorist who'd just attacked the city. “It’s really none of your business.”

Edward stared at you for a moment, unblinking, before the smile slid off of his face, his attention diverted somewhere down the corridor. You’re too busy watching him to realize what he was looking at, but his eyes slowly return to you, his eyebrows raised.

“What has a long neck, a name of a bird, feeds on ships' cargo, but is not alive?”

For a moment, his words didn’t sink in. When they did, you groaned internally. A riddle? You were well aware that it was his thing but you didn’t expect to actually be given one. Really, you never expected to be having a conversation with him like this.

Still, you wracked your brain for the answer, watching Edward watch you figure it out while looking at whatever caught his attention down the cell block. You realized the answer just as Jonathan returned to your side, his arrival obviously what Edward was watching.

A crane.

“Edward.” Jonathan placed his hand on the small of your back, a movement that Edward obviously noticed. His eyes dragged from where they’d been switching between you and Jonathan to where his hand was hidden behind your back. You could feel the chill of Jonathan’s palm through your thin shirt and cardigan. Jonathan gave Edward your name, and you could hear the smirk in his voice. “This is my new assistant.”

You whipped your head around, giving Jonathan a wide eyed look. Why the hell would he introduce you?

Edward repeated your name. Slowly. Drawn out. Like he was testing how the individual sounds formed on his tongue before he put them together to create your name.

“We’ve met before.”

Jonathan was quiet. You could feel his eyes on you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look away from Edward’s cell.

“I wouldn’t call that meeting.”

“I suppose you wouldn’t.” He was smug again, and you knew that there was something else he wasn’t telling you, that you were missing a piece of the puzzle. And then you had a sinking, suffocating, drowning feeling that you did, actually, know what it was (though it was more of an embarrassment than anything but it could certainly cause more of a stink in your life than you’d like if it was revealed).

The man in the cell beside Edward laughed, high and reedy, cutting through the cacophony of noise the other inmates created.

You finally turned to Jonathan.

“Can we leave now?”

Jonathan gave you a quick nod, not looking at Edward or any of the other inmates as he turned and began to lead you back down to the other exit of the cell block.

As you left, before you could stop yourself, you looked back at him. He was watching you leave, his hand raised in what might’ve been a goodbye wave. You didn’t return it, content to simply turn back around and ignore him.

“He remembered me.” You whispered as you left the cell block, more to yourself than to Jonathan, your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to figure out why.

“He remembers everything. It stops being impressive when you realize how much of it is useless.” Jonathan responded as if you had been having a decent conversation and he hadn’t just overheard what you whispered to yourself.

Despite yourself, you bristled at his tone. Both at the implication that Edward was wasting his time remembering everything (like he could help it) and that once again, Jonathan was reminding you that you were unimportant in the grand scheme of Gotham.

“I’m sure it was important to him.”

“You shouldn’t feel bad for him.” He turned to look at you, stopping in the middle of the hallway. A nurse scoffed and rolled her eyes as she had to reroute herself around the two of you, her clogs smacking against the floor. “Do I need to remind you that everyone here is a criminal? These aren’t just people with mental illness. These are rapists and murderers, sadistic pieces of work that don’t deserve your pity. Don’t try to humanize them.”

“I’m not-“ You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to remember what he’d done. That Jonathan was right and you shouldn’t feel bad about how Jonathan spoke to or about him. It stung, but you pushed your apprehension down. “Will I have to see the patients often?”

“Rarely.” But as he said it, he looked away from you, turning and continuing to walk down the hallway, and you didn’t find yourself too confident in his response. Still, you began walking with him again.

Realistically, you shouldn’t see the inmates ever. You shouldn’t have even been allowed in the cell block today. But you, and everyone else with a brain in Gotham, were well aware that Arkham Asylum was severely underfunded, even with charitable donations from people like Bruce Wayne. Portions of the Renewal fund were supposedly allotted for the hospital, but obviously that was no longer the case now that Bruce Wayne was overhauling that whole system.

You wondered, briefly, who or what the money was funneled to instead.

Either way, with the hospital not having enough funds to ensure there was enough staff in the hospital at any given time, you’re sure that you would end up being shoved somewhere you weren’t qualified for just so the ratio of patients to supervisors was intact. And, despite yourself, underneath the fear you had about the prospect was excitement.

Jonathan stopped at his office again.

“How did you meet him before?”

“Oh.” You winced, embarrassed that Edward had felt the need to mention it again. “I guess we ran into one another at the mayor’s funeral. I’d forgotten all about it until he mentioned it. It wasn’t the sort of encounter that sticks with you.”

“I’d assumed as much.”

“But I also-“ You stopped yourself, unsure if you wanted to continue. But Jonathan had been moving as you’d spoken, and appeared to not have heard you. Taking it as a sign, you kept your confession inside, though it was burning in your mind.

But I also found my way into one of his streams and I think he knows it.

“I’ll have to come back up here but I can take you to your apartment.”

Your bag was slung over one shoulder, your phone clutched in the opposite hand. You had no notifications, which wasn’t too unusual, but you did note the lack of reliable service in the asylum, even as you were walking out of the doors. You’d expected to be required to lock your phone away but if there was a requirement, Jonathan hadn’t told you about it. Still, you had kept it in your bag the entire day, which in turn was locked in Jonathan’s office while you were out touring the building.

“Are you sure?”

“How else would you get home?”

Briefly, you reflected on the fact that you had accepted a job on an island when you didn’t currently own a car. Jonathan had, of course, been seemingly happy to offer to be your ride every day and yet it had you feeling… trapped. But you shook it off, reminding yourself that this job was a good opportunity and having a car in Gotham was more trouble than it was worth.

“You’re right.” Though your question had been meant to see if he really had to come back after taking you home. But you also were well aware that Jonathan had more work at the asylum and it wasn’t the kind you could just shirk off if you weren’t feeling like doing it.

Outside, the day was bright even though the clouds covered the sun. You could tell that it was going to rain later from the ominous clouds in the distance but it was blessedly dry as you walked through the employee parking lot to Jonathan’s car.

As you sat in the passenger seat of Jonathan's car, you looked at his slender neck, thinking back to the riddle Edward had given you earlier.

What has a long neck, the name of a bird, feeds on ships' cargo, but is not alive?

Obviously, it meant the machines, which were littered around Gotham as beacons for abandoned projects and attempts at bettering the city, not Jonathan himself. But two out of the four applying to him was a bit humorous, though you’d never tell Jonathan that.

You leaned over the railing of your balcony/glorified fire escape, your phone pressed against your face as you listened to one…two…three rings. Even worse, the person you were calling picked up and you scrambled mentally, trying to remember what you had wanted to say.

“Hi, Marie?” You couldn’t stop tapping the fingers of your unoccupied hand against the railing. “It’s me. Yeah…. Me.” You sighed, a bit lamely. Exactly how should you come back into someone’s life after over a year of radio silence?

“It’s nice to hear from you but… why?” She sounded wary, and you didn’t blame her. After Gotham Square Garden, you had shut her and your other friends out, trying to cope with the sudden increase of your anxiety without involving them. It had seemed noble at the time, but by the time you realized the damage that isolating yourself from your support system had done, it felt like it was too late.

You faltered for a moment in your resolve to tell her about your discovery, that the two of you had met the Riddler and not realized it, afraid that it would seem the past year of your life was only defined by him and that night.

Which it had been, at least until it became defined by Dr. Jonathan Crane.

“I hope it‘s not too late to fix some burned bridges.”

Marie chuckled, though there wasn’t much humor in it. But it wasn’t mean, and that’s all that mattered.

“It’s never too late.” She said. Even though she could be brash and horribly unsentimental, you were glad you called her first.

“Do you want to get coffee sometime?”

next part

#jonathan crane x reader #edward nashton x reader #scarecrow x reader #the riddler x reader #stbotdi #my fanfiction #my writing #my fic #the batman #batman fanfiction

[winged-wolf-s-collection-of-arts]

pinned post! latest edit: April the 10th

Howdy!!! I'm Doc, or Wolfy, or whatever name you want to use. Any pronouns are fine!

I have an unreliable sleep schedule/forgetful/message notifications don’t show up- so if you need me uhh keep yelling until I notice? Aaahhh...

Not a system! I have a dozen sonas/fursonas (not sarcasm) (I hope you plural peeps have a good day-)

I put reblogs in a queue or schedule!! If I like an art post of your but don't reblog, don't worry, it'll be out in a week or so.

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Tag list, ordered by most common to least common in each category. Starting with my personal tags, then general navigation tags.

Art tag: wolfys art (my art), 2022 artchive (specifically my art from 2022)

Cool art by pals: grand showcase of arts

Doc says something: wolf chats

All art month challenges: Just Here To Have Fun

Kiley and co stuff (commonwealth setting): little wastrels

NOTE the au is getting rebooted so old stuff is not canon.

second fallout au (island setting, custom location for an rp): badlands crew

My main story stuff, not fallout: Split Fates au

posts I think my ocs would like: jeanposting, jerposting

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Other aus- SCP Jailbreak!, museums monsters n marvels, voidspace crew, When Multiverses Collide, eternal spring

I kind of hit my story with a hammer and it shattered into a million pieces. oops

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Misc fandom tags: fallout, whump stuff, bg3, doctor who, ace attorney, hermitcraft, qsmp, warrior cats, good omens

Misc common tags: described (posts with image or video ID), michaelnordeman (his animal photography), birds, food

important tags: reblogging for future reference (general tips), promo (friends news), boost (donation posts), flashing, eyestrain, psa

"You have to reblog!" And similar phrases: rebait

Subcategories of tips tags: drawing tips, writing tips, fave (personal favourites), cooking tips, health tips, tech tips. (more to be added soon)

Note- these are not tagged reliably: ghouls, zombies, blood, skeletons, suggestive, insects, spiders, guns, drug use, smoking, all caps, partial nudity, death

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Characters that frequently appear are... ( updated 10 April, more descriptions to be added soon, please hold!)

Rabbit: A human-sized anthro rabbit! Light grey and white fur, green eyes. Usually in a grey suit with a green tie and gold scarf- or in white robes with gold jewelry. Sometimes drawn with long curved gold colored horns.

Wolfy: A cartoony anthro wolf, exactly five feet tall! Medium grey fur, has oval mirrors (with two shine marks) in place of eyes, and has grey and purple wings and a bird tail over his wolf tail. Always in a medium grey suit with a purple tie. Sometimes drawn with deerlike antlers.

Parsure: Looks like a blonde and light skinned human dude with dull blue eyes! He has shoulder-length hair with jagged bangs, and has a goatee and mustache. Always wears jeans, a white t shirt, red converse shoes, and a leather jacket. There's a large red bullseye on the back of the jacket. There's patches on the left sleeve: A red X symbol, and a night sky with a black stripe down the right side. On the right sleeve: A yellow axe symbol, and grey hexagon with a blue and orange background.

Jerome Drew (should be updated to Jerome Heulwen, I'll get to it soon), <- my main guy :D

Rev -(belongs to hollyrosecheeks),

Vince: A were-snow leopard! Um. Imagine a snow leopard, but with gold eyes.

Jodie: A were-pine-marten! Like a ferret but bigger, brown furred with white patches on the face and chest.

Kiley: (new oc, aaaah- I will redo my reference soon)

Jean: (probably) human dude with short brown hair! Wears a full mask that looks like a crow’s face. Usually wears a white shirt, grey vest and tie, grey slacks, and brown dress shoes. Sometimes wears a simple black jacket. Or a scarecrow's hat and black gloves.

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Psst if you have a spare dollar can you pass it along to my pal Fern!

Cashapp: cash.app/$AustinToach

PayPal: paypal.me/AustinStidham

Venmo: venmo.com/u/Austin-Toach

uh if you show me you've donate something I'll draw you a doodle-

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End of the post! Have a good day, wahoo

#pinned post #ocs should have names capitalized in the post tags! #some characters' names change depending on au and time. uhhhh don't worry about it :] #pulling a “that's not my neighbor” and switching up “always” and “usually”- it's lore important ahaha

[bangsinc]

Are we allowed to ask for some BTAS!Scarecrow x Reader? That character definitely deserves more love! But I totally get it if we can’t!

🎃More Scarecrow x Reader (HCS)🦴

UHMMM YES! I’m gunna be super honest, I’d much rather write for BTAS than Spider-Man.. this makes me very happy :3 I love Batman.. he’s my meow meow,,

Also I agree! Nobody writes for him (I kinda wish someone wrote for a goth reader w him too ngl)… no warnings! Also I wrote a lot,,, sorry. I GOT SO EXCITED TO WRITE ABT BTAS

Jonathan Crane was a man of many faces. He’d been a professor, a villian, but.. never a lover. He’d never dabbled in the dating scene for many reasons. He’d never been considered attractive for one, and additionally, his chosen profession, age, and introverted nature seemed like major obstacles in the pursuit of romance.. To think he could still make someone swoon for him was.. flattering? He’s not sure what to make of it initially.

After the initial first meet, he can’t seem to stop thinking of you. Your memory lingers in his mind like a song stuck in his head. Your voice was a melody only he felt he should be able to cherish, and your apperance was almost ethereal. It’s not that he felt out of your league but.. he really did.

His mind, and morals seem to get the better of him in this situation. He truly has no man or woman he can turn to in a time of desperation, as he’d disclosed himself off from mostly everybody. His own mind became a mentor, and he decided to follow its adivce well.

He begins, slowly, to go out of his way to see you. He’s quiet and especially awkward, not used to being on the giving end of starting a conversation. Many other professors almost look in shock if they’re able to see such a display of subtle affection. What had gotten into this man?

His students for the most part notice his change in demeanor. He’d been a good professor for the most part, quiet and honestly a bit too interested in fear to their liking.. but never outright happy? He was an older man, who’d they’d figured lost the spark he initially had in his job.. they think of themselvs as wrong from that point foreward.

The more your newly found and unexpected friendship progresses, Jonathan finds himself unintentionally opening up to you more and more, spilling facts about both him and what interested him in his profession. He keeps this side of him hidden at first, worried he’d regress to his younger years and scare you away.

The most suprising part about this new friendship is how much he trusts you, however. He’d initially thought of himself as closed off, and if anyone were to try and come close he’d simply push them away. But.. he does let you touch him playfully, nudge him, tease him.. he doesn’t mind it one bit, even though if it was anyone else he’d be bound to lose his temper.

Side note but I would imagine it being funny if you were unintentionally pushing him around slightly, like you bring him into a hug and he literally is so fucking fragile he just can’t breathe 😭

Might offhandedly ask you for your fears, and while he initially imagines what would become if he were to see you in a state of fear.. he somehow stops himself. This was the one actually good thing to become of his life in a big time. Sure, the obsession with fear was a lovely distraction, but what he needed the most was a connection with someone.. so, from that point foreward, he made a little vow to try and keep you away from any of his harmful hobbies.

A confession with him could go many ways. If he were the one to confess his feelings, it would take years. He’d need to know truly know you and your character. Your personality thick and thin, your downsides and upsides, your interests and hobbies.. hed need to be able to recite anything about you from memory, and have an almost spiritual bond in that sence.

A setting for him would also be rather specific. He isnt fond of the rain unless a thunderstorm is in its wake, a common fear, and he certainly isn’t a fan of sunny and warm weather.. fall would be perferred. Perhaps a rather warmer day of fall, the leaves a golden brown and bright yellow. Perhaps he’d take you to a park, or maybe you’d both find someplace nice and isolated to sit. The sun would barely shine over the pearly white clouds, creating a slightly dim atmosphere. An atmosphere he felt the most comfortable in.

Hes not exactly a poetic type, and feelings for him have always been complicated and hard to come by. For Jonathan, gestures say more than words, but obviously he would need to do more to confess his feelings twoards you.

He’d be more.. gentle the day he confesses to you. He has no intention to go on a mindless rant, and he looks incredibly nervous and uneasy. He wasn’t used to feeling nervous, if anything he had figured those emotions were something he controlled and could control on others.

—————————————

🎃Post Confession:

You wouldn’t be reading this if you rejected him, so let’s just go to the dating Headcanons! I have a lot for post scsrecrow jon too, don’t worry this all isn’t going to be professor crane lol.

He was undeniably a sentimental lover, his emotions in a constant state of flux. He’s very doting, very gentle and.. very touchy. It’s rather difficult for a man shunned affection in his early years to keep his hands off of someone willing to provide him with such a gesture.

Constant, maybe even unintentional touching. A hand on your thigh, or one on top of your hand as you sit together. There seems to always be a contented smile on his face in moments where it’s only you. He’s not a grumpy, reclusive man, and doesn’t feel the need to be.

Of course.. he wouldn’t have become the Scarecrow if he didn’t get fired from his previous job for his malpractice. The initial reaction was of course fury, and while he tried to contain the pent up emotions and bitter hatred he held for the Dean of Gotham university after the confrontation, he needed someone to talk to.

His initial reaction is to go straight to your home, not without multiple texts and calls, him frantically panicking and shouting about how all of his hard work and research was spent at a place he wasn’t appreciated at.. he was leaving details out, yes, but what you didn’t know surely wouldn’t hurt you..

If you two live together, he’s most likely going to hurriedly drive back to your shared apartment/house a complete and utter wreck, not even able to speak as his anger fuels all of his emotions.

Either way, he’s got his mind set on one goal now. He’s going to make the university pay, and he’s finally going to do what he loved. You were the only person he could trust, the only person he could count on. You try and be there to lend a loving hand in such a time of desperation, but he’s too far into his own world now. He still tries to be as loving as he can, but something seems off.. he’s definitely keeping a secret, and the more he seems to be hiding the more a sort of trust is broken between the two of you. A big factor as to why he did keep it a secret in the first place was the fear of you being hurt in the process of his own endeavors. He kept reminding himself that what you didn’t know would keep you safe, from the police, from his experiments, and from himself..

He comes to the realization that, if he does want this to work he’d need to let you in, even if you’d be upset over the initial anger he’d been living a double life. Of course, you probably were, but that slightly dampened trust was thankfully built between the two of you again. So what if you were going to date an aspired villian? You loved him, and he did kinda make good cinnamon muffins when you were sad.

His first mission (This would be taking place during his debut episode in Batman the Animated Srries!) was a simple one, sabatoge something, perhaps Gotham university. It was a widely spread crime, one that nobody was sure there was a motive for.. but there was.

I’m the span of his first two crimes, before his first robbery and getaway, he’d aqqired some goons. With the goons came a small name for himself in Gothams underworld, and with that came the need to form an alter ego. All of it was one game of dominos, fueled by revenge and desire. During these events, he’s.. awfully clingy, suprisingly. You’re the only person he can rely on, espically while he’s building a name for himself. He thinks his henchmen are dimwitted dropouts, and that the other criminals would never understand him like you do.

His goons are practically on your hand and foot, wether you like it or not. He’s made it very, very clear two his two main henchmen that your problems were his problems, and that he was never one to let his darling suffer. So.. congrats, you’ve gained two butlers, who work for free..

His goons were so, so suprised he cared about someone other than himself and his goals. The way he talked about you was a drastic difference from the way he talked about them, or anyone else for that matter.

Jonathan isnt shy to boast about his significant other, and many would think you two were an older married couple with the way he presented himself in your company. He’s the master of fear now, and you’re his Mistress/Beau.

Maybe it’s my own bias speaking, but your love would definitely shift into a more gothic and meloncholic undertone. Dates are eerie and poetic, and he serenades you the best way he can.. telling you about how you and him are to rule the world. You and him are two lovers destined to make the world bow at their feet as you both dance on the debris of a destroyed civilization.

His words are sincere, his devotion seeping through every sentence.

“People shall be screaming Hosannas in our name. They will kiss the ground we walk on, hand in hand, my love.”

He’s.. very overdramatic. But he does mean it.

Now when he robs banks, despite his initial claims that he’s not in it for the money, he does end up pocketing some from his goons. Now he does have someone he could be supporting, and at this rate in both of your lives, you either are living together or he’s living at your place so the police can’t catch onto him as easy. He’d like to make your life a little easier, anything for his little raven.

Strangely domestic, as if you two had been married for years. He gives you nicknames in a large supply, his favorites ones that most would deem to be ‘spooky’ or unconventional. My Raven, Adrienne, my flame, etc… might be a sucker for pumpkin too, both being called it and calling you it. You hardly get called your name the more and more you’re together.

You’d fallen in love with a villian, a villian willing to destroy cities in your name, you scare and terrify those who try to get in your way.. congratulations ;)

#the scarecrow #btas scarecrow x reader #btas scarecrow #batman the animated series #batman x reader #batman #btas batman #bangsinc #btas #dc scarecrow #bangs x scarecrow canon #scarecrow #scarecrow x reader

[bangsinc]

I really love the scarecrow request! I love how you write him and he's so underrated:(

Could you write HC for him with a fem s/o who is the manifestation of fear, like the literal embodiment of fear? Idk what versions of scarecrow do you write but if you could, could it be the batman animation series 👉👈?

(btw you seem like a sweet person (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠✧⁠*⁠。) -🩷

💀Scarecrow X Reader that Is the manifestation of fear 🎃

Hey Anon ? !! So glad ur requesting scsrecrow, defo my baby girl and my fave guy to write about. BTAS is my speciality, though I do write for any (I’m bias for BTAS)

I had many different ideas for this, I wasn’t sure if you wanted reader to be an entity or kinda like a person?? Kinda? So I played around w it! Thank you for calling me sweet btw!!! Ur so sweet :3

Since his childhood, love has never been Jonathan's forte. If it wasn’t fear, Jonathan never cared for human emotions. He’d grown content with the idea of living a life alone, after all, it’s what one expects with the path he’s taken… But then of course, there you. You’re a god/goddess to him, to put it blankley. Everything he’s devoted his life to, obsessed over.. has manifested.

Might be a bit… proddy, initially. Your existance is very much an anomaly, even in a place like Gotham city. He’d never do anything to intentionally harm you, though maybe he gets more personal than comfort.

You’re fear incarnate? How can you prove it to him? He’d love to see, though, he’d perfer if it wasn’t on him. The idea of you being so willing to show him such an ability is enthralling after all! He is the master of fear, so it’s only fit that he has such an honor.

He’d never get over having a lover like you. He has the mindset that he’ll never let you go till death do you both part (if you can even die, that is). Expect him to push a wedding, the venue a grandeur gas attack across the streets of Gotham. You have to, need to be his mistress of fear. He won’t have anything less.

He wants you by his side consistantly, for a multitude of reasons, though the greatest being that he’s grown an insane attachment and almost obsession with your being. Even in Arkham asylum, his mind races of ways to stay in contact with you (though it’s most likely you have the ability to easily assist in his escape).

Your wish is his goons command. He’s not a kind man to his goons, seeing them as no more than fools who live to serve him out of fear. Of course, his goons are now your goons, and if they dare even question this shift in authority, they’ve earned a spot as his newest test subject.

Very, very affectionate to his goddess! Think of it as a morticia and Gomez dynamic. There’s no shame, at least to him, in showing his wonderful, transcendent partner off for the world to see as he tears it apart. Constant affection, always on his hand and foot for you, it’s quite a suprise. He can be.. rather grumpy at best, kinda pathetic at most, so it’s a stark change emotionally.

(Might cling to you for protection 80% of the time). If he’s vulnerable, close to being apprehended, no fear gas, etc… he’s probably going to run to you like a scared puppy. He is nowhere near fit to really defend himself, physically at most. He returns the favor in tenfold when he can, however.

I COULDNT think of how to end this I’m ngl

#bangsinc #btas #batman #scarecrow x reader #scarecrow #the scarecrow #dc scarecrow #btas scarecrow x reader #btas scarecrow #bangs x scarecrow canon #batman x reader #btas batman #batman the animated series

[bangsinc]

🎃BTAS!Scarecrow Headcanons🎃

X Reader included!

Jonathan is a ‘cold and unfeeling’ man, on the outside that is. Despite his incessant need to show others how terryfing he is, he is awfully sentimental. He’s the kind of man to cry over a children’s picture book if it truly strikes a chord with him. The same could be said if you do simple gestures for him

I’d like to imagine that he’s a ‘Tea and heated blanket, maybe with a book’ kinda guy. It’s the comfort that gets to him, truly.

He’d keep copies of his favorite books at Arkham. Now, since this is BTAS, Arkham still mistreates everyone, but I can imagine they allow certain things into the inmates cells to keep them feeling a little more human. His favorite book is Dantes Inferno, because to him it’s a perfect example of fear encapsulated in one man’s mind. Go off, cornball.

He had a pet, once, back when he was a professor. She was an old kitten, who he’d kept with him since he was a child. She’s a black cat that’s missing part of her ear, and her name is Jessicat, which leads into the next headcanon.

All of his pets have a corny pun name. He has multiple, yes. Canonically he has a singular crow named Crowford, and he thinks it’s the funniest thing.

Most scarecrow x readers often veiw scarecrow as like, your protector but.. this man couldn’t save his ass let alone someone else’s. Yes, he would live and die for you, and do it over and over again, but he’s touch starved and lonely. He doesn’t expect it or demand it, but he’s the kinda guy to need to be comforted by his significant other all the time. Jonathan or Scarecrow he wants to feel cared for.

He’s good friends with Harley Quinn due to their shared position. Yes, it’s canon their friends but.. *sets off a smoke bomb and runs away*

Before joker fucking destroyed Gothams television, Jonathan and Edward would watch documentaries and discuss them. Now, Arkham didn’t have any services other than cable, and since there was always a fight on who got to watch what.. they hardly did enjoy spending time like that.

Shakes sometimes. Mostly an anxiety thing.

This is all I have for now. If you have a request please tell me! Dms are open, I think.

#btas jonathan crane #btas x reader #btas batman #btas #batman #scarecrow x reader #new account #lol #Bangs x scarecrow canon #btas scarecrow #btas scarecrow x reader #btas Jonathan crane x reader

[bangsinc]

WE WON WE WON WE WON HES IN BATMAN THE ADVENTURES CONTINUE NOW

#tnba scarecrow #tnba jonathan crane #tnba #the new batman adventures #batman the adventures continue #bangs x scarecrow canon #btas scarecrow #dc scarecrow

[bangsinc]

BTAS Scarecrow the kinda guy to kill 40 men for a girl with a fat 🍑

#i’m right #bangsinc #batman #btas #bangs x scarecrow canon #btas scarecrow #he’s an ass guy