he's so silly what a princess the only one with a chair like that was the only one and they let him sit on it because they didn't want to deal with him yapping
I'm a firm spencelle believer, they could've been endgame. He was in awe of her confidence, and she was infatuated by his brains - and they both found comfort in each other's kindness.
Hey hey, I just found your blog and I really like your writing - especially Sitting Pretty since I'm a sucker for those Crane fics. :3
Would you maybe be up for some kind of comfort/fluff fic with Crane?
I am always up for some comfort/fluff when it comes to Dr Jonathan Crane. He's so babygirl <3
Anyway, I hope you enjoy.... thank you so much for your request!
Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby || Jonathan Crane x Reader
warnings: none really, some brief mentions of violence, crying, angsty but also fluffy and comforting at the end, not really anything that bad to be honest, sort of non-canonical to anything that actually happened in the films.
It had been around a week since you had seen your boyfriend of three years. This was the longest you had gone without seeing Jonathan, without even hearing a peep from him. You even went to his work, he hadn't been there either. You knew what sort of dangerous work he did outside of Arkham and also within it, you knew the dangers and the risks he faced every time he left your apartment. You were still hopelessly devoted to him, despite the bad things that he has done and continues to do. You knew he would never hurt you. Him being gone felt like someone had ripped your heart out... like your soul was slowly being eaten away. Where was he? Was he even still alive? No. You mustn't think like that.
It was only a week, maybe he just needed some time away. Though he would've at least taken time off work, surely? His work told you he hadn't called in sick but he was supposed to be there. But he wasn't.
You hadn't cried. You found yourself growing more and more numb to the absence of Jonathan. It was like your body trying to reject a foreign object, trying to spit him out of your heart. It was painful and agonizingly slow, you knew you could never get over him, especially if you never got to say goodbye. His things lying around your apartment were a painful reminder of the fact he was gone. And he probably was never coming back.
You hadn't slept, at least not very well, in four days. You'd barely been eating either, maybe a stale cracker or two every now and then but you couldn't bring yourself to eat any proper meals. The best you could do was stare at the tiled wall as you stood in the scalding hot shower, trying to burn away the grief.
With the growing hunger and the fact you barely slept, paranoia was also sprouting within you, like some sort of sickly weed. You were worried that if Jonathan had been captured, whatever got him, was coming for you next. Every tiny little noise, every rumble, or car horn outside sent you running to the comfort of your shared bed. The one that smelt like him. You really couldn't sleep. Every shadow looked like some sort of evil horned figure ready to devour you whole, your eyes wide and frozen, helplessly full of fear. You thought about how Jonathan would assess this situation, how nerdy he got when you were afraid, in its own way you found it comforting the way he explained the body's reaction to fear and the way he explained the mind's power over the body.
The sleep you did get would be full of nightmares or vividly heartbreaking dreams. There was one you couldn't get over, a dream so sweet, more like a memory than anything else. Jonathan coming home from work, taking off his clothes and crawling into bed with you. His hands caressed your back softly, arms cradling you like you could shatter at any moment if he held you too tight. It felt so painfully real, that even when you began to wake up you could still feel him there. Still feeling his arms around you.
"Jonathan..." You whispered a sigh of relief, his arms pulled away from you as your heart raced with joy. Sitting up and looking around to find yourself just as alone as you had been for the past week. That's when you began to cry. "Jonathan..." You sobbed into your hands, you couldn't fall asleep after that. It was four in the morning, and the room was pretty much pitch black as you cried to yourself like a baby needing its mother.
Even more time passed. You were hysterical, you didn't pick up your phone when your friends called, you didn't leave the house, you didn't eat, and you most definitely didn't sleep. You were in bad shape, to say the least. It was that time of the year when the rain began to pour, your glass walls showed the bruised sky and the lightning it unleashed upon Gotham. You didn't work, Jonathan insisted on you staying at home, for him to provide for you. You were pretty happy staying at home and doing as you pleased. But now... it felt so different, there was no one to come home to you. You were pretty certain that the love of your life had died and you were going to spend the rest of your time alone. You knew you could never love again.
As if the sky knew how you felt, it only rained harder, it rained for days and it never stopped. You sat on the couch with a blanket draped over you as you lifelessly stared out at the dark sky. It was the middle of the night, and you thought about sweet nothings you and Jonathan shared. You thought about how lucky you were to see that side of him, so lucky you weren't on the other end, seeing the scarecrow, full of fear toxin. You thought about Jonathan humming while he made you pancakes, thought about the way he wrote you love letters almost every morning before he left for work, thought about the way you both were ready to get married soon. You remembered him holding your stomach while you brushed your teeth before bed and saying in that beautiful voice of his; "One day, you and I, are gonna have a bunch of beautiful babies and we'll live far far away from here. Everything will be perfect."
You sobbed and nothing brought you out of it. The pain in your chest was unbearable, no stupid fucking sad song or badly written poem could ever express it. There was no comprehensible word in any language that could truly explain away the agony you were in. You were no longer paranoid that something was going to come and hurt you, in fact, if there was someone or something out there coming to get you, you'd happily let it come in and put you out of your goddamn misery.
It was two soft raps on your bedroom window from the fire escape that caught your attention. You froze and stopped your crying, listening for it again, wondering if maybe you were just hearing things.
It's when you hear them again that you manage to stand up on shaky legs and wander into your bedroom that you see a shadow, leaning its weight against the window tiredly. It was him. With all the energy you could muster up, you ran to the window and slid it open before grabbing ahold of him and pulling him into your bedroom. You felt like you were going to have a heart attack.
"Y/N," Jonathan whispered. You didn't say a word, just turned on the lamp to light up the room. If this was a dream, you were going to try and enjoy every second of it. If this was the only way you could see your Jonny then you would take in every moment. "I... I missed you."
And when you turned around, ready to scold him, ready to scream your lungs out at him for being gone, your heart broke all over again. His clothes were torn and covered in dried-up blood. Jonathan's neck was covered in bruises in the shape of handprints and his eyes were tired and void of any life. "Jonathan..." You whimpered, approaching him, he winced a bit as you placed your hands softly on his face. "Where have you been? What happened to you?" You were going to be angry at him before but now you understood... it wasn't his fault. He was soaking wet and you could see he had been crying too.
"I... I can't... really remember... I was drugged..." He mumbled, Jonathan's fingers curled around your waist and pulled you into a bone-crunching hug. He breathed you in, embracing you again was the only medicine he needed. Holding you was the only thing that could tell him was truly okay. "The Batman got me... I don't know how I managed to escape... just ended up here... I've been walking for days."
"Jonny..." You were crying as you sat him gently down on the bed. "I thought you..." You whispered. The strength was not in you to say it. "I thought you were..."
"Dead?" Jonathan croaked out, his voice was hoarse in a way that told you he had spent days on end screaming, from the torture he had been put through. "Yeah, me too." He said dryly.
You helped him undress. The clothes were pretty much useless so you tossed them on the floor in a pile to throw away later. "Let me clean you up..."
"No." He said. "Not right now..." Jonathan shook his head as he grabbed you and pulled you into his chest as you laid down in the bed with him again. "I just need to feel you..." His voice broke and in the process, your heart broke too. You could hear how defeated he was. "Need to feel you there."
You understood, not saying another word as you clung to him. You listened to the sound of his heart, ear pressed right against his bare and bruised chest. You heard him sniffle, immediately causing you to pull away. "Oh, baby..." You cooed sadly, brushing a tear off his wounded cheek. The dam gates were open now as he began to cry, wincing at the salty tears mixing in with his busted face. "I'm so sorry... I'm so sorry that happened to you... I was so worried... you're here now... you're here with me... my baby."
"I thought about you every second," He sobbed. Jonathan looked like a helpless little child at that moment, his blue eyes were pitiful. "I thought I was going to die... thought I was never gonna get the chance to say goodbye to you..."
Together you sat crying, both with relief and sorrow as the rain poured outside, the heaven's crying with you. Everything felt okay again, for the both of you, now that you were with one another. "It's okay, Jonny." You tried to console him. Things had happened to him before, he'd been beaten up or caught in dangerous situations but he usually came home shrugging it off, this time you could tell he was severely traumatized, you could tell this was going to take a while for him to get over. Jonathan had that thousand-yard stare, that mischievous fire that usually lit up his eyes had been extinguished and now reflected the dreary weather outside. "I love you, baby, it's okay... nothing's ever going to hurt you again." You whispered, he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your lips. You kissed him as gently as you could, knowing his lip was swollen and split open, you could taste the metallic blood from his mouth and the saltiness of his tears.
"Y/N..." Jonathan wept, his face now buried in between your neck and your jaw. "It hurts." The tone of his voice was the most heart-shattering thing you'd ever heard.
"I know, my baby," You hushed as you laid back down again, caressing his hair that was still wet from the rain. "Nothing will ever hurt you again." You reassured once again. "Nothing's going to take you from my side."
You cried your own tears of sadness, relieved he was back in your arms, relieved that you were there to take care of him and nurse him back to health. The morning sun had begun to rise by the time you two had properly nestled into your bed, skin pressed together, legs intertwined. Jonathan slept in your arms, you held him like a baby, you couldn't sleep, too happy to have him in your arms again.
"As long as you're with me, you'll be just fine..." You whispered softly into his hair.
Hii.... i would love a💌 love letter from Edward Nigma
make him address me as my dear and or my dearest, despite the fact i believe that i am dumb and kinda unworthy of life... can you make him say that he loves me and that he loves my figure despite the lack of exercise....(sorry for the lowkey trauma dump also love your work😘 hope you have a wonderful day)
Worthy
Summary: A love letter for anonymous from Edward Nigma.
Word Count: 650
A/N: Ahh anon, I really hope you enjoy this love letter! Thank you so much for your kind words, too!
My dearest,
Gotham is still tonight. I have been pouring over my plans for Batman for the last several hours, but I find I cannot stop these distracting thoughts from bleeding into my genius mind. Everything you said from our last conversation has burrowed its way into my brilliance, and no matter how hard I try, I cannot seem to stop thinking of what you said – about your worry over your own intelligence, your figure, and how you feel unworthy.
I know, I know, I can hear your protests already. I can hear the self-doubt in your voice as it tickles at the back of your mind, begging you to argue with me. With me! But my dear, I know you worry that you are unworthy, insignificant, lesser. But to that I say: how foolish. I cannot sit here and let you agonize over such trivial things. It is utterly absurd for you to think so lowly of yourself – to think you are not worthy.
Because, my dear, you are so entirely worthy beyond belief. I cannot believe you would insult something that I cherish so deeply. That you would question my judgement, my brilliance, by suggesting that you are anything but remarkable? You have ensnared my thoughts, and I think of you at all hours of the day. No matter how hard I try to focus on my plots and ploys and schemes, you have become the center of my universe, the light in the black hole that is my life. I do not find myself wanting to solve you, to dissect you like everyone else. With you, I want to trace each piece of your soul, each edge, to memorize every imperfectly perfect detail.
And you know why, my dear? It is because I love you.
I love you. I must say it again, and I will continue to say it over and over, until your self-doubtful words drown into nothing but silence. Whatever flaws you see, I only see perfection. I do not see failure or weakness, I see beauty. I see someone who has faced the weight of the world and still remains standing tall. I see someone who is so totally worthy of everything life has to offer, no matter how you think may you think you are unworthy of it all.
And your figure? Don’t make me laugh. What society dictates as “worthy” is subjective, a silly made-up notion. I am not fooled by such arbitrary standards and conformity that the world believes is somehow more beautiful than anything else. Your body is your own, it belongs to you, and that makes it just as exquisite and beautiful as any other. Your body holds memories of all you have been through, and it is the same body that has led you to me. I would never dream to wish for anything else.
You see, my love, you are perfect just the way you are. I know it will be difficult for you to see yourself as I do: beautiful, worthy, intelligent. Capable of taking on this world and all it has to offer. I cannot force you to love yourself, but I can show you, dedicate my life, to telling you why every day you are deserving of love and worthy of goodness in this dark world.
You are worthy of love. You are worthy of greatness. You are worthy of me.
Do not waste your breath trying to argue with me. You know I am right. You cannot outthink me, and I will not allow you to diminish your bright, lovely soul. You are mine, and that is the only thing that matters.
So, tell me: I’m a four-letter word with the power to heal. I make people stronger, and they say I’m real. What am I?
My husband did the cutest thing possible and made themed wrapping for the respective rogues in the Christmas presents he got me. 😭😭😭 Also my Riddler haul…
turnnoffyourmind
germansingergirl
titsay
ellievsbear
areudirty
