Ran by admin vee or just goes by admin most times.
Admins strawpage ♡
- very Headcanon-heavy, mostly the admin’s take on Crane with some canon mixed in.
Rules and boundaries of this account.
No Nsfw - admin is 19 but doesn't feel comfortable with anything sexuel here. - Flirting is allowed but don't be upset if crane doesn't respond how you hoped(He's very emotionally cold here.)
Magic anons are 100% and multiple have shown up.
Admin accepts ocs, crossovers, multi verse.
Mutli-shipper and even open to oc x Canon. - Just ask first.
Any ask with 🧸 is set in the past of crane through baby - teen - college. ((And Is not canon/doesn't change crane in the now))
Any ask with 💌 are headcanons suggested by other people.
You can now try to influence crane with 🎃/😇 aka being the angel on his shoulder or yk basically the scarecrow.
Cranes in his late 30s-ealy 40s in this blog.
He's demi-sexual, omni-romantic(no lean)
AU account down below read more.
@jail-b1rd - Arkham au where cranes just in Arkham.
Moonlight filtered through the thin curtains of his bedroom, casting pale silver bars across the floor. For several seconds, he remained frozen beneath his blanket, heart hammering against his ribs.
The old house creaked around him, settling in the middle of the night.
Jonathan rubbed at his eyes with a tiny fist. He didn't want to be alone, but for a moment, he tried.
He pulled the blanket higher and squeezed his eyes shut, but the fear didn't go away.
His lip trembled as the wooden floor was cold beneath his bare feet as he hurried toward the hallway, clutching the sleeve of his pajamas in one trembling fist.
The house seemed impossibly large at night. Every shadow looked like a monster. Every creak made him jump.
By the time he reached his parents' bedroom, tears had begun gathering in his eyes. He hesitated at the doorway.
Then, he knocked softly. No answer.
He pushed the door open a crack, "Mama....?"
A figure shifted beneath the blankets. A lamp clicked on.
His mother sat up with an irritated expression already on her face.
"What are you doing up?" She pinched the bridge of her nose, "You know we have church in the morning."
"I..." He rubbed his eyes. "Mama, I had a nightmare..."
His mother folded her arms. Something in her face seemed to sour further. "Jonathan, it wasn't real. Go back to bed." She demanded. The southern boy just stared at his mother with watery eyes.
"Stop crying."
Jonathan tried. He really did.
But the harder he tried, the more his breathing shook.
His mother's eyes narrowed.
"Jonathan Maverick Crane."
His stomach dropped. The use of his full name always meant trouble.
"You're too old for this non-sense."
Jonathan stared at the floor. His vision blurred. "I just—"
"Enough." The single word cut through the room. Then came the sentence he dreaded.
"Do not make me get your father up in here."
The fear from the nightmare vanished beneath something much worse. Real fear.
Immediate fear.
"N-no mama..." — "back to bed now."
Without another word, he turned around and walked back down the hallway. The floorboards creaked softly beneath his feet.
His bedroom somehow felt colder than before.
He climbed back beneath the blankets. The nightmare still lingered. The fear was still there.
But now it had nowhere to go.
Jonathan curled tighter beneath the covers and pressed his face into his pillow.
The room remained dark.
The house remained silent.
And eventually exhaustion pulled him back to sleep.
───────────────────────────
Jonathan jerked awake. His chair nearly tipped backward. For a moment, he didn't know where he was.
His pulse thundered, His lungs burned.
The lab slowly came into focus. Stacks of research papers and chemical formulas.
Reality.
The nightmare evaporated, leaving only lingering dread behind.
Jonathan inhaled sharply, Exhaled.
Again, then again.
His hands were shaking. Annoying, Pathetic.
He clenched them into fists.
It was merely a dream, an involuntary neurological process. Nothing more, nothing worth reacting to.
Nothing worth feeling, Yet his heartbeat refused to slow.
The remnants of childhood terror clung stubbornly to his ribs.
Jonathan adjusted his glasses, Straightened in his chair as Attempted to regain the detached composure he demanded of himself.
The office door creaked as a small fluffy shape slipped through the opening.
The kitten paused. Bright eyes immediately fixed on him.
"Luci, not now..." he mumbled, his voice still shaking, hoping the kitten would listen. The kitten ignored him, A single questioning meow echoed through the room.
Jonathan sighed as Luci trotted forward.
With the confidence possessed only by cats, Luci leaped onto the desk, scattering several papers, before stepping directly into Jonathan's lap, shoving her head against his chest. The impact was surprisingly solid for such a small creature.
Jonathan stared down at her, The vibration of her purrs spread through his lap.
Warm, Steady, Safe.
His hand hesitated, then settled carefully against her fur.
Luci's purring intensified as she pressed her head against his hand.
Jonathan exhaled slowly, The shaking finally began to fade.
Jonathan Crane stood in the middle of the lab with a crow glaring at him from atop a stack of journals. The bird looked ridiculous. tiny creature, one wing held awkwardly against its body, staring him down with black, bead-bright eyes that radiated suspicion.
Jonathan just stared back. "This," he said flatly, while putting on his gloves, "was not part of my evening." The bird had just been handed to him, then the person had disappeared before he could protest. The fluorescent lights hummed overhead. The lab smelled faintly of antiseptic, old books, and chemical residue hardly a suitable environment for a bird. He could have left it outside, but he'd rather not deal with a dead bird outside his house. Now, he was stuck with it.
Jonathan approached carefully. The crow puffed up immediately, feathers flaring like a threat display.
"Oh, very intimidating," he murmured. "You weigh less than a textbook." Was he really over here talking to a crow?
Carefully, Jonathan reached closer.
The crow lashed out so fast its beak clipped the edge of his knuckle.
He jerked back. "Oh, you little–" he inhaled deeply. The crow let out a raspy caw that sounded almost triumphant.
"This is absurd," he muttered, mostly to himself. "I study fear toxins. Neurochemistry. Psychological conditioning. Not avians."
He paced once around the lab, thinking. Sedation crossed his mind briefly, but the idea of accidentally killing the creature because of an imprecise dosage felt inconvenient at best again he'd rather not deal with a dead bird.
Jonathan exhaled slowly, glancing toward the refrigerator. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. He crossed the kitchen and opened the fridge—sparse, as always. Up in the front was a clear package of blueberries he had just bought the other day, to eat when he had forgotten meals altogether. Though blueberries weren't a balanced meal, it was the best he'd get from that man, aside from his entire hydration being caffeine.
"...You’re intelligent," he said slowly. "Corvid-level cognition is comparable to primates in several areas. Pattern recognition, social memory, problem-solving. So perhaps positive reinforcement will accomplish what reason can not."
He carefully tossed a few blueberries onto the desk toward the bird, as he'd rather not lose a finger trying to hand-feed it.
Silence.
Then a quick hop.
The crow snatched the berry immediately, then another.
This time, the crow took it faster.
Jonathan watched it eat. "... interesting."
He held up a third blueberry between two fingers. The crow eyed him with visible suspicion.
A pause.
Then the crow hopped closer.
Jonathan allowed the smallest hint of satisfaction to cross his face as he lowered the berry into his palm, crouching down to the crow. The bird hesitated before taking it carefully this time.
"There we are," he murmured. Its dark eyes remained fixed on him while it ate. Jonathan’s mouth twitched faintly.
"Ah," he murmured. "Now it seems we have an understanding."
