raven

i write about my feelings // 25 // making a masterlist rn

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

not gonna lie, sometimes when I’m writing my fics I don’t actually have a plot as I am writing it and will just be winging it as I go like “vibe first 🙂 plot second 👌🏻” and more often than not, I’m actually satisfied with how the fics turn out

[johnny-depp-is-loved]

[theswisscheeserag]

You gotta be really publicly passionate about things if you want your friends to text you. Bc people will forget to text you because they’re human. But if you’re really openly the friend who loves identifying ants your friends will think of you when they see ants. And they’ll text you “what ant is this [blurry photo]”. And then they’ll ask you how you’ve been and we should get coffee sometime. But if they don’t know what you love they’ll never know what you like

[theswisscheeserag]

And then when the ant convention is in town they’ll be like dude… we should go to the ant convention. But they would never think to go if they didn’t know u loved ants

[theswisscheeserag]

And sometimes you need to ask them to go to the ant convention. But you Will not get anywhere hiding your passions

[hug-your-face]

via @swatercolor [insta]

[hug-your-face]

This is the best tag I've ever received on a post, I think

[akwardsilince]

Person A: "They are a little dumb, but they've got a good heart."

Person B: "But they are dumb."

Person A: "Right, so, you're focusing on the wrong thing--"

[veyoux]

when you know THAT scene is gonna be fire 🔥

…but you still have to reach it somehow…

[timetravelingauthor]

No one ever talks about how heavy a checkovs gun is to carry through 100,000s of words and not fire it off to early or go “hehehehe” in the author notes.

[blabbermouthedromantic]

Devil In Disguise - Jonathan Crane x Reader

"Devil in Disguise" by Marino was definitely the main inspiration for this one <3 Fair warning, I have not written anything in... years, let alone fanfiction of my beloved, Jonathan Crane, so I did my best to give him his true terror brand. - xoxo, Raven

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

As lightning cracked against the night sky, a sudden boom of thunder made Y/n jolt from her seat within her favorite bookstore, the rain pounding against the window that showcased the dark street outside. She had lost track of time reading the newest book in her favorite series, devouring the pages without noticing that every other patron of the shop had left and the barista had been politely sweeping the same spot of the floor as he waited for her to peek up from her book.

He noticed her sudden awareness and smiled, coming to her side and allowing her to see his name tag, Matthew. “Um, ma’am? We’re closing for the night, and, uh… everyone else has been gone for a while.” Matthew scratched the back of his head, clearly uncomfortable with having to perform any form of confrontation – which was a rather tragic trait to have in a city like Gotham.

Fortunately for him, Y/n smiled apologetically. “I am so sorry! I completely lost track of time and I-“she paused, seeing his discomfort and laughed. “Oh goodness! I should probably just shut up and go home, hmm?” Tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear, she scooped her book into her purse and left a tip on the table before leaving the café so that Matthew could close up and go home himself.

The street was loosely lit with lamps, though a few were flickering and the one on the end of the street was completely dead, leaving the train station entryway dark as Y/n began to walk quickly toward it. Gotham had certainly seen better days, and, naturally, it was much more of a sight to behold during the day when you weren’t so caught up within your mind about the possibility of crooks and criminals that could be lurking around every corner. She almost hoped to see a cop car driving by to give some peace of mind, but even if there had been one it was unlikely that they would stop to help her in a dire moment – most of the force was paid off and the few good officers were stretched so thin over the city that safety was typically left for the citizens to figure out themselves.

“No scary people are going to be following me home~” Y/n hummed, her keys locked within her knuckles to give her some sort of defense against the night. “Because that would be very lame of them and they have much better things to do-oof!”

Stumbling over a lifted piece of sidewalk, Y/n sprawled onto the concrete pad of the train station and felt her purse spill out. A gentle throbbing came from her hands, which had gone out to catch her fall, and her hip ached in the way that she dropped most of her weight onto it, but she attempted to lift herself up before anyone saw her fall. It was frustrating enough that the city didn’t care enough to keep the sidewalk straight, but to fall flat on your ass because you were singing to not be afraid of the dark? Absolutely humiliating, and Y/n didn’t need any more embarrassment after the barista incident. A few curses fell from her lips as she lifted herself, but a large, pale hand outstretched assistance and she grabbed it without thinking.

“Are you alright?” An even toned voice asked, and as she lifted her head, Y/n was convinced she had seen the most handsome man in her life. His dark brown hair flopped around his ears, his thin glasses on the edge of his nose as he stared down at her with intense, blue eyes. He held an umbrella in his other hand above them both, though it looked like he was trying to keep his satchel dry more than her or himself. “That was… quite the tumble for such a small lift.” The condescension was laced within his tone, but Y/n chose to ignore it and pulled herself up to her feet, wiping her hands against her pants as he watched her.

“Thank you, Mr.…?”

The man eyed her for a moment, his tall frame standing straighter and his thin hands adjusting his tweed suit jacket. He almost looked familiar, but she was pretty new to Gotham, and the streetlight was out here, so it wasn’t like she was expecting to recognize a random man in the dark anyway. He pushed the glasses on his nose up and gave her a tiny, fake smile. “Crane. Dr. Jonathan Crane.” Looking around, he leaned over to pick up her purse and hand it back to her, “Isn’t it pretty late to be out sprawling on the sidewalk?”

Y/n gave an awkward laugh, “Yeah… I lost track of time in my book, but I’m finally heading home now.” She briefly considered the fact that she should not tell this random man that she was going home, lest he follow her and rob her, but as she watched him check his watch and take off his glasses to clean them off, she felt that if someone was going to attack her, it wasn’t going to be the man with the umbrella.

“Ah, well, it’s best to do that as soon as possible. Here in Gotham, some boogeyman is always right around the corner.”

“Oh?” Y/n raised an eyebrow, a smile peeking at her lips, “Which one frightens you the most? I’m pretty new to the area, but I’ve heard of a few of them: Riddler, Two-Face, Harley Quinn…”

Jonathan rolled his eyes, turning back to where the train was pulling up. “None of them are truly frightening. The man that I’ve heard of can conjure screams from even the bravest of men, make them see things that will leave them a mere shell of themselves.” His eyes looked haunted, as though he was seeing something other than the sliding doors as they walked onto the empty car. “He can manipulate your worst nightmares into his tools, make your mind a prison from which you’ll never escape.”

There was awe in his voice, and Y/n hummed as she sank into her seat, attempting to ring some of the water out of her hair. “You sound like you aren’t afraid of him,” she commented, “or like maybe you admire him.”

A small chuckle fell from his lips as Jonathan leaned against the pole in the center of the car. “Ah, well, I have a large fascination with the mind. What the Scarecrow does, it can truly transform the amygdala in its victims. Overstimulation of the amygdala from his ‘fear toxin’, as the media calls it, can break the mind and cause lasting hallucinations.” When Y/n gave him a puzzled look, he shrugged, “I work with a few of the Scarecrow’s victims at Arkham Asylum. I study the immediate and long-lasting effects, though most subjects show little to no improvement over time.”

Above their heads, the neon sign for the next stop illuminated with Y/n’s intended station, and she began standing. “Admirable work, Dr. Crane. Perhaps you’ll find a cure for his fear toxin, and then there will be one less boogeyman to be afraid of.” She stepped onto the train platform, relieved that the light here worked and that it would only be another block of walking in the rain until she made it home. From the corner of her eye, she saw Jonathan also step off and push his glasses up further on his nose.

“Perhaps, but there’s a never-ending stream of crazies in Gotham, so I’m sure someone would just attempt to replace him.” He stated before stepping closer to her whilst messing with something inside of his satchel, “Would you like me to bring you home? Help keep you safe from the Scarecrow?”

She eyed Dr. Crane out of the corner of her vision; he was charming, and intelligent, and apparently did work that bettered the greater good. If he was trying to work up the courage to ask her out, perhaps the last little bit of their walk would help. His umbrella was raised again, and she thought about how nice it would be to stay a little bit drier until she was able to hop in a warm bubble bath at home.

“That would be wonderful, thank you.”

“Of course, it’s best to keep someone as clumsy as you out of harm’s way.” He joked, giving her a grin. It made her heart flutter, and she was sure she had made the right decision. “I’m curious, what do you think your mind would do if you met the Scarecrow?”

They walked in the direction of her apartment, and Y/n thought about his question. What would she be afraid of enough to hallucinate about? She had a few fears like heights and millipedes, and naturally was afraid of dying, but she wasn’t sure what truly gave her the feeling of dread that Jonathan had described was Scarecrow’s specialty. She had to admit, since coming to Gotham, this was probably the villain that she was the most afraid of. The others might kill you, but this one would keep you alive – just in a continuous fear-induced panic attack. That felt almost like a fate worse than any death that Harley Quinn or Joker could produce.

A squeak of a nearby rat jolted Y/n from her thought spiral, and she blinked before looking around. It looked as though they had overshot her apartment by at least two blocks, and her mouth felt a little dry. “Uh, Jonathan, I think I led you too far-“ Turning to look at the good doctor, her voice caught in her throat.

Where Jonathan Crane had stood was now a man with a burlap mask, the rain dripping onto the top of his head as he peered at her through the eye opening of the mask. The mask featured stitching that almost resembled little bugs crawling on its face, and Y/n gagged at the thought. The mouth was stitched into a frown, and a deep, almost static-like voice cooed at her. “Oh, you sweet little thing…”

Y/n flinched as he lifted his hand up to touch her face, and he shook his masked head as he laughed. “You radiate of fear, little mouse. It’s delicious.” He stepped closer to her and grabbed her by the throat before she could dart away. She kicked her legs as he began to lift her into the air, attempting to scratch at his hands but his leather gloves merely caught her fingernails in their place.

The Scarecrow watched with morbid curiosity as Y/n’s face changed color and her attempts to fight back got weaker and weaker. He dropped her unceremoniously to the ground before kneeling in front of her with his hand outstretched, resembling the man who had helped her not even an hour before. She whimpered and began to shake, muttering and murmuring pleas, “Jonathan, is that you? Please, don’t hurt me… I’ll do whatever you want, please, this isn’t funny.”

Shaking his leathered finger in her face, the Scarecrow tsked. “Not Jonathan. Scarecrow. And I promise, my dear, I’m only here to help…” He flexed his arm and a fine mist sprayed out, covering Y/n’s face before she could attempt to hold her breath or stop it. She began coughing, attempting to crawl backwards whilst screaming in fright at his mask.

“Now, I truly do wonder… What are you afraid of?”

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]