Uh, hi, hello

A goofy non-binary that is getting back into fanfics galore.

[kungpaochicken15]

Introduction and Masterlist

Uh, hi, I'm kungpaochicken. 25-years-old and my pronouns are they/them. I tend to hyperfocus on evil men and women who can give me uppies. No minors here please.

Check out my Ao3 (although I'm posting the same stuff on here and Ao3)

Honestly, I just write whatever comes to my mind. HOWEVER REQUESTS ARE OPEN: 3 SPOTS OPEN!!!

Fandoms: Frieren, DC comics, sometimes Marvel, Prince of Tennis, Fate Grand Order: Gacha Hell, more will be listed here because I can't remember right now

Will try to post a new writing thing weekly (at least until college starts 💀).

Masterlist (Smut will be labeled as smut)

Future Fic Ideas

[ketzorino]

sketches I haven't really posted here! my absolute emotional support dummies

[kungpaochicken15]

Book Club Chapter 7 (Jason Todd x Reader)

Book Club Chapter List

Chapter 7: The White Horse... Again

Summary: Jason has to do a raincheck for drinks. You and Allen get mugged, and get saved by someone who should be a Navy SEAL.

Words: 2.1k

Content Warning: Vomit

You’re not entirely sure how long you’ve been in prison, also known as your job, but it feels like it’s been years since you’ve been entrapped by the repeating questions of ‘can I get extra credit?’ or ‘have you graded this?’. You’re not even halfway through the semester yet. You were honestly thinking about making a poster called ‘The Answer is No’ with a list of questions, so you could just point to it when someone asks.

It’s times like this that you were looking forward to the hangout with Allen and Jay later tonight. You were at home, decompressing on your couch after a particularly long day and watching The Real Housewives of Gotham City. There was some gala happening at the Wayne mansion, and the women were competing to find the hottest dress in the Diamond District to sleep with Bruce Wayne.

If only your life could be that easy.

“Oh my god! That looks so beautiful on you!” One of them squealed, watching the other housewife twirl around in a dark green, backless dress that surely cost enough to feed your entire family for generations. The scene immediately cuts to the confessional where the same one giving the compliment rolled her eyes. “She looked like an ugly, fat pig in that dress.”

The scene transitions back to the fitting room, where the woman in the green dress was beaming. “Do you think Bruce will notice me?”

“Oh, absolutely.” The other nodded. Dammit. Why couldn’t this be your life? Your phone buzzed in your pocket.

Allen: we still gud for tonight

You: yuhh

Jay: Maybe?

Allen: wtf do u mean maybe

Jay: I said what I said.

Allen: no u cant just back out like that

Jay: I literally told you that my schedule at night is complicated.

Allen: then make it uncomplicated

You: Boooo. I can’t believe you’re leaving me with Allen tonight.

Jay: Stay strong, soldier.

Allen: u guys need to stop ganging up on me when the one we need to attack is JAY

You: Jay’s a responsible adult. I get it.

You: You’re just… you.

Allen: ouch

Allen: i cant believe u would do this to me

You: L

Jay reacted 👍

Allen: noooo stop

Allen: this is bullying pls stop 😢

You: That’s so gross ew.

Allen: THIS IS VICTIM HARRASSMENT

Jay reacted 👍

Allen: stop giving me the thumbs up emoji

Jay reacted 👍

You reacted 👍

Allen: STOP IT

Jay reacted 👍

You reacted 👍

Allen: OUGHHHHHH

Jay reacted 👍

You reacted 👍

Allen: im muting this chat.

Jay reacted 👍

You reacted 👍

You: Sorry you can’t make it tonight.

You: Maybe next time?

Jay: For sure.

________________________________________________________________

You met Allen at the bar, only this time he took a table, two large jugs ready and waiting for the two of you. As annoying as he was, he was always early. You took a seat across from him.

“Wazzup?” You greeted, grabbing your pint.

“Can’t believe this bitch ass motherfucker can’t make it!” He grumbled, taking a swig. “I wanted to see him in the flesh!”

“Bro’s got a night job.” You shrugged. “It is what it is.”

“Stop being responsible.” Allen pointed a finger accusingly at you. “Tonight. We become irresponsible and bitch about everyone.”

“Even my dead grandma?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Even your dead grandma.” He nodded.

“She always made me feel dumber than my cousin.” You sighed.

“She might have a point.”

“You don’t even know my cousin.”

“Nope.”

You snorted into your glass. “Alright. Who’s next?”

Allen groaned. “There’s so many to choose from… You know what? David is a menace.”

“Is he? He’s fine in my class.”

“He was spreading rumors about the two of us in class.” He rolled his eyes. “Asked me when the marriage is.”

“Oh, yeah…” You trailed off. David loved his gossip. “Have you tried telling him he was being weird about it?”

Allen stared at you, as if he didn’t consider the idea. “...No.”

“Easiest trick in the book.” You took another sip. “Especially if you do it in front of everyone.”

“Well, I told him I’d give him detention.”

“Fear-based tactics rarely work.”

“It does for that Scarecrow guy.”

“Allen, you are not committing bio terrorism in the classroom.”

“Scarecrow gets results.”

“Yeah? And he gets arrested.”

“Semantics.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Semantics,” Allen repeated, sipping his beer. You stared at him, and he stared back.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Semantics.” You groaned, throwing your head up to look at the wooden ceiling. “Jay, where are you?”

“See? That’s what I’m asking too.”

The conversation carried on. One beer turned into two and then to three… and then… then… Well.

“Oh, fuck.” Your words slurred together. It was hard to focus on Allen’s face. “We shouldn’t have drank this much on a work night.”

“Naaaaah,” he stretched out the word. “It’ll be fine… I already prepped sub plans.”

“Dude.” You narrowed your eyes at him. “You’re just gonna leave me alone tomorrow.”

“Just call in sick.”

“This is so bad.”

“It’s only one time.” He waved you off. “It’ll be fine. They’ll live.”

You thought long and hard… Allen was surprisingly right. You did have sick days. If you threw up tomorrow morning. It would be one hundred percent valid to use a sick day.

“Seeeee?” Allen pointed at you again, his hand wobbling slightly. “You’re thinking about it.”

“Unfortunately, I do see your point.”

“HA!” He chugged another beer in victory. “I’ve won!”

“You didn’t win nothing.” You stared at your empty pitcher. You should probably stop drinking.

“Let’s get another round going!” He slurred, looking at you expectantly. You looked at him…

“Yeah, let’s fucking do it.”

That turned out to be a terrible decision.

You don’t even know how much you drank, but it was enough that you couldn’t drive home. The bartender called last call. The White Horse slowly emptied around you. Cold night air hit your face the second you both stepped outside.

“Allen?”

“Hm.”

“I can’t drive.”

“You could… Nobody’s stopping you.” Both you and Allen stumbled outside.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Probably.”

“No…” You narrowed your eyes, trying to think of the word. “...Definitely.”

“Let’s just walk around to sober up,” Allen suggested. It was a good idea at the time.

“Hell yeah.” The two of you picked a direction with complete confidence and absolutely no reasoning behind it. Your stomach began to grumble. “I’m starving.”

“We just left the bar.”

“Beer’s not food.”

“It can be.”

“No… It’s a drink.”

“It’s liquid bread.”

“No, it’s not.”

“They both got yeast.”

“That doesn’t make it the same thing.”

“They’re like cousins… Like a dinosaur and a bird.”

You narrowed your eyes. “That was good.”

“I know it was.” Allen puffed out his chest.

“Wallets.”

The two of you blinked at each other. Neither of you said that. Both of you turned. Three men stood a few feet away wearing masks. One of them gestured impatiently with a handgun. Were you hallucinating? You rubbed your eyes. Nope. No. This was real.

Ironically, the fog in your mind began to clear up immediately. At least you were sober enough to drive now.

“Wallets,” the guy with the handgun repeated impatiently. Oh. Right. You and Allen exchanged a glance before quietly pulling out your wallets.

“I can’t believe you guys are mugging two, poor teachers,” Allen said aloud.

“Allen,” you muttered quietly, throwing your wallet on the floor closer to the thugs.

“I mean, we got no money. You know what our salary is?”

“Shut up,” one of the muggers without the gun said, picking your wallet up and opening it. “Jesus Christ, there’s nothing in here.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” The guy with the gun looked at the one holding your wallet with disappointment.

BANG.

You flinched so hard your knees nearly gave out. Allen yelped beside you. The mugger with the gun lurched backward, his handgun clattering onto the pavement. The other two froze. A heavy pair of boots landed on the pavement behind the two of you.

“Out of all the people you guys chose to mug, it was a pair of teachers?” The modulated voice asked. Allen and you slowly turned. Red Hood lowered his gun.

“...Holy shit,” he muttered.

“L-Look!” One of the muggers shouted. “We… We didn’t know!”

“You knew enough to point a gun at them,” Red Hood said flatly. “Give the teachers their wallets back. Then I’ll give you five seconds to disappear.”

“...He’s so big,” Allen whispered in your ear, and you nodded. “He’s huge…” You nodded again. “He’d be a great football player…”

“Allen, shut up,” you muttered. For once, Allen closed his mouth.

“Okay! Okay!” The muggers tossed your wallets onto the pavement. “Here you go.”

“You’ve got five seconds.” Nobody moved. “That was one.”

“GO!” One of the muggers shouted, running off. The other two stumbled after him. Your heart was hammering in your chest. The street suddenly felt very quiet. Only once the muggers disappeared around the corner did Red Hood turn back toward you.

“Either of you hurt?”

You opened your mouth. Nothing came out.

“I… I don’t think so,” Allen stammered.

You felt something churning in your stomach. Oh god. You were going to throw up. You slapped a hand over your mouth. Red Hood took one step forward.

“Hey-”

You spun away just in time before your stomach violently emptied itself into the alleyway. You stayed bent over for a moment, breathing hard.

“They’re not okay,” Allen answered for you. Red Hood looked around before pulling a sealed bottle of water from one of his jacket pouches. He held it out.

“Here.”

You gratefully took it, too mortified to look him in the eye. Your hand was shaking as you tried to open it. You cursed silently at your inability to open a stupid water bottle. Before you could fumble with it again, a gloved hand gently took it from you. A quiet crack echoed as the seal broke. Red Hood handed it back.

“...Thanks.” You attempted to smile awkwardly before immediately chugging the water.

“...Hey, what the fuck? Save some for me,” Allen protested, but it was weak. It didn’t have the usual flair. Red Hood’s shoulders relaxed ever so slightly.

You took a deep breath once you realized there was no more water left to drink… Maybe you should use a sick day tomorrow.

“Thanks… Mr. Red Hood,” You looked up at him.

“Drop the mister,” he said.

“Yeah, thanks, Mr. Red Hood,” Allen jumped in. Red Hood sighed, exasperated.

“Where did you guys park?”

“Oh…” Both you and Allen looked at each other. “By the White Horse.”

“...That’s twenty minutes from here.”

“We’ve been sightseeing,” Allen supplied unhelpfully.

“No,” you snorted. “We’ve been sobering up in the worst way possible.”

Red Hood paused, clearly thinking about how these two dumb educators manage to get so drunk to get mugged. “...I’ll walk you back.” Okay. Never mind. He probably wasn’t thinking about that.

“Oh my god, a superhero hunk walking us back?” Allen, shut the fuck up. “We are gonna be the talk of the town.”

“Walk.” Red Hood rightfully chose to ignore the comment.

“So strong and mysterious… and professional,” Allen sighed dreamily. You closed your eyes. You might throw up again. “Can we take a selfie with you?”

“No.”

“Oh my god, you’re being so cringe,” you hissed in his ear.

“It’s called ‘opportunity’.” Allen rolled his eyes.

“You mean like the opportunity those muggers had?” You retorted. The two of you heard a snort from behind you. The two of you slowly turned around. Red Hood stopped walking.

“Keep walking,” he commanded.

“Damn, we might as well be the criminals in this case,” Allen complained.

“Allen, just walk.” You shook your head in disappointment.

“See? Authoritarian.”

The walk continued in silence, eventually reaching Allen’s car.

“I’ll just… ride with Allen back to my car,” you told Red Hood. You felt weird walking with him alone… Not that he was scary. He kinda was. But it felt like you were taking time away from his job.

“Good.” He nodded. Allen got into the driver seat, while you climbed into the passenger’s seat.

“Thank you, Red Hood.” You gave him an awkward smile.

“No problem.” The moment the car pulled away, Red Hood was gone.

The car ride was quiet.

“...He was nice,” Allen said, like he just met a new coworker and didn’t know how to describe them.

“Yeah.” You nodded along. “Really cool.”

“He’d be a great Navy Seal.”

“What the hell?”

“Think about it.”

“I… I mean, I don’t know-”

“He’s disciplined,” he cut you off. “Tactical… Badass.”

“I think he might be beyond a Navy Seal.”

“Oh, like Black Ops?”

“...The video game?”

“Oh my god. Do I really have to explain what Black Ops are?”

The argument kept going on until you reached your car. Neither of you realized Red Hood was still on the rooftops, quietly watching until you drove away.

[rooka-uwu]

kiss

[creature-lala]

first kith x

[binkobug]

Scribbles scribbles scriddler

[doctormistake]

💞

[vafr0]

new crush////

[britishsquidward]

Types of patheticness? Who knows

[eat3napple]

Office Crush ♥︎

i guess some type of lore stuff… they meet at work pre-riddler stage. they like eachother. ruin each other too. yada yada yada

(not a specific edward nashton/nygma design, mostly a mix of gotham’s season 1 ed, edward nashton 2022, and a bit of batman origins.)

[wishfulsketching]

you should draw….batman

I have never drawn Batman sooo I went with my fave version of him aka Batman: The Animated series version. I also cheated and added Riddlebird.

Edit: did few small edits, nothing major

[kungpaochicken15]

The Wolf and the Scarecrow (Jonathan Crane x Werewolf!Reader)

Words: 5k

Summary: Jonathan is by your side when the moon is full.

Content Warnings: Graphic descriptions of turning into a werewolf. Also there are a few mentions of gendered language, such as 'Good Girl'.

“Jon, are you sure you wanna watch this?” You frowned at him as he secured the final chain around your ankle. Jonathan gave the cuff an experimental tug before following the length of chain back to the bolt driven into the concrete floor. Satisfied, he straightened. “I think this gets pretty gruesome.”

“It’s fine. I am not squeamish.” He waved the concern away. “I will be a secure distance away from you as the transformation is occurring.”

“If you say so…” You tugged at your arms. The restraint was tight, but you were hesitant. Anything could happen once you transformed. Your gaze traveled toward the line Jonathan had marked across the floor several feet away. A chair was behind it. Beside the chair sat a small table containing a notebook, a watch, and a tape recorder. Leave it to Jonathan Crane to turn a horrifying supernatural transformation into a research opportunity. “Please tell me you didn’t bring any fear toxin to this.”

“Of course not,” he scoffed. “Only if you would let me next time…”

“That’s probably not a good idea.”

He ignored it, crossing the room to the chair and picking up the tape recorder. “Initial transformation observation. Subject is conscious, lucid, and displaying anticipatory anxiety-”

“I am anxious because I’m worried I’m gonna eat you!” Saliva pooled at your mouth. You swallowed. Jonathan’s eyes immediately dropped to your throat.

“Does that normally happen?” He leaned forward.

“Too much saliva.” You laughed weakly. Your mouth was watering faster now, saliva gathering beneath your tongue until you had to wipe your chin against your shoulder.

“Subject reports concern regarding predatory behavior following transformation. Increased salivation observed approximately two minutes prior to anticipated onset.”

You rolled your eyes, saliva still dripping down your mouth. “You’re…” You swallowed again. Jesus. It was useless. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“I wouldn’t call it enjoyment, rather a research opportunity.”

You laughed, your eyes catching the moon through the skylight of the warehouse. Full. It was beautiful. For a moment, you forgot what you were saying. Moonlight spilled through the glass in a pale column, washing across the concrete floor and catching on the chains around your wrists. You had seen the full moon countless times before. You knew what it meant and what it did to you. But every time, there was that same strange moment of awe like you had never seen it before. Another thin line of saliva slipped down your chin, unnoticed.

“Darling?”

You didn’t answer. The moon seemed brighter tonight. You could make out every shadow across its surface. Every crater. Your pupils widened as you stared upward, head tilting almost imperceptibly. Something warm stirred beneath your skin. It wasn’t pain yet, but rather recognition. Jonathan glanced from you to the skylight.

“Can you hear me?” He asked.

“Yeah,” you replied distractedly.

“What are you experiencing?”

“It’s beautiful.” You swallowed.

“The moon?” He clarified, writing something down in his notebook.

“Mhm.”

“Possible fixation upon visual exposure to the moon.” Jonathan kept writing in his notebook. It was more difficult to hear him now. Your heartbeat was getting louder and louder, like a beating drum that never stops. Your skin felt like it was on fire. You shifted uncomfortably against the concrete. It was hot. Way too hot. The warehouse had been cold when you arrived. You remembered complaining about it while Jonathan fastened the restraints, the chill of the floor seeping through your clothes. Now you were burning. You could feel sweat gathering at the back of your neck and your clothes clinging unpleasantly to your skin.

“Fuck, it’s hot,” you said outloud, trying to help him with his observations.

“Subject reports sudden increase in perceived body temperature… How rapidly did it begin?”

“Dunno.” Your eyes were still fixed on the moon. Fuck. You really wanted to get out of here. You shifted again, the chains rattling. Your gaze snapped downward. For some reason, the sound irritated you. Something tightened in your chest. You didn’t like the cuffs around your wrists or the ones around your ankles. You didn’t like the concrete beneath you or the walls surrounding you or the fucking roof separating you from the outside.

A breeze moved through a broken window somewhere in the warehouse, carrying the smell of the saltwater and factory smoke. You recoiled. Your nose wrinkled as the smell intensified.

Oil, rust, and old chemicals soaked into concrete. Something acrid from one of the factories farther down the Gotham docks. You had smelled all of it when you and Jonathan arrived, but it had barely registered then. Now you could taste it.

You bit your lip hard, drawing blood. “It stinks.”

Jonathan looked up from his notebook. “What does?”

“The smell.”

“Can you identify the odor?”

“It’s like…” You squeezed your eyes shut. “Everything.”

“Mhm… What does ‘everything’ mean?”

Your body began to tremble. “I… I dunno. Smoke… Oil.” You blinked. Catching a whiff of something else. Warm. Alive. You stared at Jonathan. Your nostrils flared again. Cheap soap. Coffee. Old chemicals clinging stubbornly to his clothes. Him. Jonathan. You knew his smell. And he smelled good.

“Anything else?”

“You.” You pulled against the chains suddenly. The metal snapped taut with a deafening clang. Jonathan flinched, just a tiny bit, but you saw it. You saw it very clearly. The cuffs dug painfully into your skin.

“Why did you pull against the restraints?”

You looked at him again, blinking, like it was obvious. “Because you smell good.” Jonathan moved his chair an inch back. “Didn’t realize the Scarecrow would be scared of a big bad wolf.”

“I am not particularly interested in becoming dinner.”

“Smart.” Your lips twitched. Then your spine cracked, and the smile disappeared. Jonathan’s pencil stopped. You went completely still. There was always that split second before the pain hit. That awful little moment when you heard it, felt something shift deep inside you, and knew exactly what was coming. “Shit.”

The pain slammed into you. Your back arched violently, chains snapping taut as a scream tore from your throat. Jonathan stood.

“Don’t!” He froze. Your palms pressed against the concrete. Another crack traveled down your spine, followed by another, each vertebra shifting beneath your skin. “Stay there… please.”

Jonathan remained behind the line barely. His notebook hung forgotten at his side. Your shoulders rolled involuntarily. Pressure built inside the joints, steadily increasing until you hear a sickening crack as one shoulder jerked upward. You screamed. Jonathan’s face lost color. You would’ve laughed if you could breathe. So much for not being squeamish.

Your fingers cramped, causing you to look down. Every joint in your hands locked at once, and then they began to move. Your nails scraped against the concrete as your fingers stretched, knuckles swelling beneath the skin. Pain shot through your wrists and up both arms. You could hear Jonathan’s heart beating faster and faster. You lifted your head. Jonathan was staring at your hands, his lips slightly parted. No notes or clinical commentary.

“Don’t…” It came out as a strangled growl. It was getting harder to speak. “Don’t freak out. It… It’s okay.”

Jonathan’s gaze moved to your mouth. Your tongue swept under your teeth. They felt wrong against your tongue. Too large and crowded. Your canines pushed downward. You could feel every millimeter of it. The pressure building inside your gums, roots shifting as your teeth lengthened and sharpened one after another. Your mouth was filled with blood and saliva. You spat onto the concrete. From the corner of your eye, he flinched.

“You good?”

“I am perfectly fine.”

“Liar.” His heart hammered in your ears. You would’ve smiled if your jaw hadn’t started aching. A crack split through your skull. You screamed again, doubling over. The chains rattled violently as both hands flew toward your face before the restraints caught them. Your jaw felt like it was being pulled apart. Pressure spread from the hinges beneath your ears towards your chin. Your scream collapsed into something lower and rougher. You tried breathing through it, but your face pushed forward.

Jonathan’s stomach turned. He was not unfamiliar with blood and violence. People screaming and clawing their own faces bloody beneath the effects of his toxin. However, none of these people had been you.

Your breathing came in harsh, wet gasps. “Jon…”

He crouched instinctively behind the line. “I’m here.” Your eyes found his. You felt a small form of relief. You always had to go through this alone. Tears prickled your eyes.

“I…” You gasped, feeling another wave of pain through you. Your fingers gouged against the concrete as claws forced their way from where your nails had been. Your shoulders broadened. Fabric strained across your back. “I’m… scared…”

Jonathan went still. Of everything you could have said, that seemed to affect him the most. You watched his expression change. The Scarecrow knew fear. It was his life’s work. Fear was predictable, something to induce, observe, and control. But he couldn’t do anything with yours. He couldn’t make it stop.

“I know.” Your face crumpled. “I’m sorry…”

You tried to say his name, but all that came out was growl. Your face twisted. “J-”

Your throat seized, a low guttural whine vibrated through your chest. You were almost done. And you couldn’t even say his fucking name. You tried again. Your mouth formed the beginning of the sound, but your throat refused to cooperate. Another broken whine escaped instead. Panic surged through you.

No. No, you could still talk. You were still here.

“J-J-”

A snarl tore from your throat, making you recoil at the sound. Jonathan didn’t, his eyes remained fixed on yours.

“I know.” You stared at him. “I know what you’re trying to say.” Your breathing hitched. “I’m here.”

Relief hit you so hard it hurt. Your eyes squeezed shut. A tear rolled down your cheek and disappeared into the coarse hair spreading across your face. Jonathan’s heart hammered in your ears, but his voice remained steady.

“You don’t have to speak.” You opened your eyes again. “Just look at me.”

Something inside your chest broke loose. A whimper escaped you. His expression tightened. He wanted to come closer, but he stayed behind the line. Another violent tremor ran through you. Your clothes finally tore across your shoulders. You cried out, but there was nothing human left in the sound. Jonathan flinched.

Your spine lengthened. Muscles rolled beneath newly thickened fur. Your hands scraped against the floor as your body pitched forward. The chains strained and your heartbeat thundered. The warehouse was filled with the sounds of cracking bone, tearing fabric, rattling metal, and your tortured snarls.

Through it all, Jonathan kept talking.

“I’m here.”

“I’m still here.”

“Look at me.”

You found him through your blurred vision. Jonathan.

You knew him, even as everything else became confused. His face, his voice, and his scent. It was all Jonathan, even if you couldn’t say his name anymore.

The final wave hit, and your body seized. Jonathan rose slowly to his feet. The chains snapped taut. Your head hung between enormous shoulders. Jonathan didn’t move, neither did you. The tape recorder continued turning on the table. Jonathan stared at the creature, the werewolf, you, chained to the floor.

“Darling?”

One ear twitched, and slowly, you lifted your head. Your eyes found him. Then your nostrils flared. Dinner. The thought came easily. The warm thing standing in front of you smelled good. Your mouth watered. You could hear the steady beat beneath his skin. You could smell the blood and warmth underneath all of the other smells that you couldn’t recognize anymore.

You shifted forward. The chains scraped against the concrete. The warm thing in front of you stiffened. You sniffed again. Familiar. Your head tilted. You knew that smell. Your thoughts were strange now. Blunt things without names attached to them. Images and feelings that disappeared whenever you tried to grasp them.

But this you knew. It was safe. The name was gone, but everything attached to it remained. The warmth of his body besides yours and his scent buried in pillows and blankets. Home?

Your ears relaxed.

Jonathan watched the change with fascination. “Darling?”

Your ears immediately perked. You knew that sound! It was home! Your tail struck the concrete with a loud thump. Jonathan blinked and you surged forward. The chains snapped taut. Jonathan stumbled backward. A frustrated whine tore from your throat.

No! Too far…

Home was too far away. You pulled harder, the chains groaning under the pressure. Jonathan’s fascination disappeared.

“No. Don’t pull at them.” You didn’t know those words, but you knew the voice. You wanted the voice closer. You strained toward him, claws scraping against the concrete as the cuffs dug into your limbs. “Darling, stop.”

Home. Your tail thumped harder. Jonathan stared at it. His expression went blank. You whined. Why wasn’t he coming closer? You pulled again. One of the wall anchors groaned, Jonathan’s eyes snapping towards it.

You pulled harder and the concrete cracked. He took another step back. No.

Your ears flattened. Come back. You lunged against the restraints. The bolt ripped free from one of them. Jonathan stared at the broken chunk of concrete dangling from the chain. You stared at it too. Free? 

You tugged experimentally. Three other leashes were holding you back. Almost free. You pulled against the one attached to your other arm. The metal groaned. Jonathan’s eyes widened.

“No.” You pulled harder. “Darling, don’t.”

You strained toward the voice, causing another bolt to tear free from the wall. Jonathan took two steps back. You whined. Why did he keep doing that? You wanted him closer. Come back. You scrambled toward him, only for the restraints around your legs to snap taut and jerk you to a stop. A growl rumbled through your chest, causing Jonathan to freeze. You barely noticed. Stupid leashes. You twisted around and snapped at one of them. Your teeth struck metal. You bit down harder. The chain didn’t break. You growled at it, planting your paws against the concrete and pulled.

The anchor held, so you pulled harder, a low snarl came out of your mouth.

“Stop.” Home sounded worried. Your ears twitched toward him, and you paused. Jonathan exhaled. For a moment, the warehouse went quiet.

“That’s it.” You stared at him. His voice had gone soft again. Familiar. “Stay there.”

You didn’t know what that meant, but he was talking to you. Your tail began to move, and Jonathan noticed. His gaze dropped toward it. Jonathan looked back at your face.

“You’re…” He trailed off, his brow furrowing. You opened your mouth and panted, long tongue lolling out of your snout. Something shifted behind his eyes. You knew that look or some small piece of you did. Home slowly extended one hand. Your entire body leaned toward it, but you couldn’t reach him. The remaining chains snapped taut. He immediately withdrew his hand. You whined. “No.”

Your ears flattened. Jonathan pointed at you. “Stay.”

…But he was over there. And you were over here. It was wrong. So you pulled, and the third anchor ripped out of the concrete. You bounded forward, but the final restraint around your ankle caught you. You crashed onto your chest with an indignant yelp. Jonathan winced.

You scrambled upright. One leash. One stupid leash between you and Home. You looked at it, and lowered your body.

“Don’t.”

Your claws dug into the concrete.

“Darling.”

You pulled, and the bolt groaned. Jonathan began backing away. You pulled harder. Concrete fractured around the anchor.

“Oh, hell.”

You strained with everything you had, and the final bolt tore free. The chain dropped. You looked down, and nothing pulled you back. Free. Your ears shot upright and your head snapped toward Home. Your tail wagged.

You bounded forward towards Home. Jonathan’s face was drained of color.

“No… No, no-” He broke off into a run. You ran faster. Why was he running?

Running!

Something instinctive sparked inside you. Your body lowered. Jonathan saw that it was a particular posture shared by predators across a number of species. He recognized it immediately. His partner was about to pounce.

He imagined his death on numerous occasions. Batman had generally featured somewhere in those predictions. An overdose of his own toxin had always remained an embarrassing possibility.

He had never considered being eaten by his partner.

You launched yourself at him. For Jonathan, everything slowed. Your snout opened, revealing sharp canines, claws that would easily tear him apart. 

And suddenly, absurdly, he remembered Georgia. The hot summers, the open fields. Mangy mutts getting where they weren’t supposed to be. His infuriating great-granny sent him out to chase them away. One of them ran at him. A frightened farm boy shouting the first command he could think of

“DOWN!” The word exploded through the warehouse, thick Georgian drawl and all. You dropped. Jonathan staggered. You squatted obediently on the concrete, your enormous tongue lolling happily from your mouth. Jonathan stared and you stared back, his chest heaving. “Oh…”

You tilted your head. He adjusted his glasses with a trembling hand. “Oh, I see.”

Your tail thumped again. Jonathan stared at the werewolf who had been approximately two seconds away from flattening him. Then his eyes narrowed.

“Lay down.”

You sprawled your body across the floor. His heart was still hammering. Neither of you moved.

“Well…” Your tail swept across the concrete. Jonathan looked at it, and then you with the four lengths of chains dragging uselessly behind you. “You understand me.”

Your ears perked at his voice. “Or…” His breathing finally began to slow. “...You understand commands.”

Your head titled. The fear was still there. You could smell it beneath everything familiar about him, but something else was rapidly overtaking it. Curiosity.

“Stay.” You stayed and Jonathan took one cautious step backward. Your head lifted. “Stay…”

You remained where you were, although your tail stopped moving. He took another step back. Where was Home going? You started to rise.

“Ah-ah.” You froze. The sound meant something. It wasn’t a word, not like before, but something in his voice made your body hesitate. Jonathan noticed. Of course he did. His eyes narrowed behind his glasses. “Down.”

You slowly lowered yourself again.

“Interesting.” Home took another step away. No. A small whine escaped you. Jonathan stopped, pausing to look at you. Then he deliberately took another step back. Your chest tightened. No. Home was too far. You pushed yourself upright. “Stay.”

Every instinct screamed at you to follow him. Home wasn’t supposed to leave. You whined louder. Jonathan’s expression flickered. “I’m not leaving.”

You didn’t know what that meant, but you knew his voice was soft. You lowered your head between your shoulders and stared at him. All you knew was that Home was too far. You whimpered loudly. Jonathan pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Good Lord.” He stepped toward you. Your ears immediately shot upright. He was coming! Your tail slammed repeatedly against the floor. Jonathan stopped, and you stared at him expectantly. He stepped backward, and your tail stopped. Then, he took another step forward and your tail wagged again. “Fascinating.”

Jonathan kept walking until he was a few feet away. He slowly extended his hand towards you, and your nose immediately lifted. Home. You leaned toward him.

His hand stopped. “Stay.”

You paused, but trembled. His fingers were right there. You could smell him. In a split second, you opened your mouth and licked his hand. Jonathan recoiled, his hand snapping against his chest. He slowly looked down at his palm, saliva glistening across his skin. His expression flattened.

“You licked me.” Your tail thumped. “Yes. Thank you. I am aware that you’re pleased with yourself.”

You didn’t know what he was saying. He didn’t sound as scared as before. That was good. Your tail moved faster. Jonathan wiped his palm against his trousers with a grimace. You immediately leaned forward again.

He pointed at you. “No.” Your ears perked. “No licking.” You tilted your head. “No.”

Jonathan cautiously offered his hand again. Your nose twitched, and you stretched your neck toward him. Jonathan’s body tensed. This time, you sniffed. His fingers were close enough that your nose brushed his knuckles. Warm. You inhaled deeply, and closed your eyes. Jonathan watched you, the tension slowly leaving his shoulders.

“...Good girl,” he muttered, some of his old accent slipping in. Good? You were good? Your eyes snapped open, and your tail wagged faster. He thinks you are good!

You surged forward. Jonathan’s eyes widened. “Wait-”

You dragged your tongue across his face, and he froze. Your tongue swept from his chin, across his cheek, and nearly took his glasses with it. You pulled back. He stared at you in disbelief, his glasses sitting crookedly across his face. A strand of saliva connected your tongue to his cheek. Jonathan slowly closed his eyes.

“No…” He had called you good! You licked him again. “Stop.”

You couldn’t. Home had thought you were good. Your enormous body wriggled with excitement as you shoved your snout against him, tongue dragging enthusiastically across whatever portion of his face you could reach. Jonathan staggered backward. “Enough!”

You followed. He put both hands against your snout and attempted to push you away, but he couldn’t.

“Down.” Another lick. “Stop!” And another one. “Darling, please!”

You didn’t understand that one, so why stop?

Jonathan turned his face away, so you licked the side of his head instead. “God dammit!”

He stumbled sideways, wiping furiously at his face with his sleeve. You followed immediately. Home was happy! Well… It didn’t sound too happy, but he said you were good. You nudged his chest with your snout, and he stumbled.

“Sit!” His voice was firm, making you squat on your hind legs. Jonathan was breathing heavily. His face was drenched in your saliva. You panted happily. Jonathan removed his glasses. They were wet. Extremely wet. “This is revolting.”

Your ears perked, your tail wagging faster. “No.”

You leaned forward, and Jonathan immediately pointed at you. “Bad.”

Your tail stopped wagging, and your ears slowly flattened against your head. Bad? The excitement drained out of you. You lowered your head. Jonathan’s irritation vanished as a small whine escaped your throat.

“Darling.”

You didn’t look at him. Your body sank lower until your chin rested against the concrete. Bad. Home thought you were bad. Your tail curled close against your body. Jonathan put his glasses back on.

“Now, that’s hardly necessary.”

You whined, and Jonathan sighed. “You kept licking my face repeatedly.”

A tiny whimper escaped you, and his jaw tightened. This was absurd. You had destroyed his restraints and chased him across his warehouse. Less than ten minutes ago, he’d been contemplating the very real possibility that tonight would’ve been his last night alive. You glanced up at him. Your eyes were enormous. Jonathan looked away, and you whimpered.

“God dammit,” he muttered, and stepped closer. Your ears twitched, and your eyes followed him cautiously. Jonathan stopped in front of you and stared down. “You are not bad.”

Your tail gave one tiny, hopeful thump. “Your behavior was bad.”

You didn’t understand any of that, but you could understand that his voice was soft again. Jonathan hesitated before placing one hand between your ears. It was warm. You closed your eyes as his fingers moved through your fur.

“You’re fine.” Your tail began moving again as he scratched behind one ear. You leaned into his palm. Jonathan’s mouth twitched. Then, without thinking, he muttered, “good girl.”

Your eyes snapped open and his hand stopped. He realized his mistake. “No.”

Good!

“Do not lick me.”

You surged upright and licked his face. Jonathan closed his eyes as your tongue dragged directly across his glasses for the second time. You pulled back, panting. Jonathan stood perfectly still as saliva dripped from his chin.

“I swear to God.” His Georgian accent returned in full force.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You woke up hurting. That was the first thing you registered. Everything fucking hurt. A groan escaped you as consciousness reluctantly returned. Your muscles felt like they had been pulled apart and put back together incorrectly. Your shoulders ached, your fingers hurt, and your jaw throbbed. You kept your eyes closed.

It must be morning. You shifted, feeling something soft moved against your skin. Your eyes opened. A blanket. You blinked down at yourself. Someone had draped a blanket over your naked body, tucked securely enough around you that only your shoulders were exposed.

Wait… Jonathan? Where is he?

A horrifying thought crossed your mind. Did you eat him? Your stomach dropped.

“Jonathan?”

Nothing. No response. Oh, God. You forced yourself upright. Immediately, every muscle in your body protested.

“Shit…” You collapsed back onto one elbow, clutching the blanket against your chest. Pain radiated through your shoulders and spine. “Jon?”

Your heartbeat accelerated at the lack of response. You looked around the warehouse, seeing the aftermath of the night. Broken chains lay on the floor and the bolts have been torn off the wall. Your eyes widened. You had gotten loose.

“Jonathan!”

Something moved somewhere behind you, and you whipped around.

“Would you stop shouting?”

You froze. Jonathan emerged from behind a stack of crates. Alive. Not in your stomach. You nearly sobbed.

“Oh, thank God.”

Jonathan stopped. He looked horrible. His hair was disheveled. His shirt was wrinkled and partially untucked. Dark circles sat beneath his eyes, and there was a stiffness to the way he moved that suggested he’d slept approximately nowhere comfortable. You tried getting up, but pain shot through your legs.

“Stay.” His lips twitched, and your brows furrowed. “Don’t get up. I imagine you're having a difficult time right now.”

“Yeah.” You watched him approach holding pain killers and a bottle of water. The closer he got, the more you searched him for injuries. No blood, no missing limbs, or obvious wounds. “...Did I hurt you?”

Jonathan’s expression softened. “No.”

The answer came quickly enough that some of the tension left your shoulders. “You sure?”

“Quite.” He crouched beside you and held out the painkillers. You exhaled shakily.

“I’m… I’m glad.” You unscrewed the bottle, taking out two pills. You swallowed them with the water, which you drank greedily. Your throat was raw and parched. The cool water soothed some of the rawness in your throat, but you still winced with every swallow. Jonathan noticed.

“Slowly.”

You ignored him and took another long drink.

“I said slowly.”

You lowered the bottle. “Thirsty.”

“I gathered.”

Your hands were trembling. You hadn’t noticed until Jonathan reached out and steadied the bottom of the bottle. You tipped the bottle higher, draining every last drop you could get. When nothing else came out, you finally pulled it away from your lips and gasped for breath. You sighed in relief, and looked at him. Jonathan stared at you.

You couldn’t even believe he stayed with you through the night. You felt something twisted inside your chest painfully. Every month, every year since you’ve had this fucking thing. You have been alone. In the woods. In warehouses. In abandoned buildings. Every morning after you would wake up somewhere different, disoriented, naked and alone. Always alone.

You learned how to drag yourself home when your legs barely worked, how to clean your own wounds, and how to stop wondering what you’d done. But mostly, you learned not to expect anyone to be there when you opened your eyes.

But Jonathan was here when you opened your eyes. He wasn’t dead.

Your vision blurred, and his expression immediately changed.

“What?” He asked, as if he didn’t understand what exactly he did for you. Your arms protested, but you pulled him into a tight hug. Jonathan stiffened. The movement sent pain shooting through your shoulders, but you didn’t care. You buried your face against his chest and held on. “Darling?”

You squeezed him tighter. Jonathan’s hands hovered awkwardly for a moment, but one hand settled carefully against your back and the other cradled the back of your head. A sob escaped you.

“T-Thank you,” you hiccupped into his chest. His hand stilled against the back of your head.

“For what?”

That only made you cry harder. “F-F-For staying.”

Jonathan went quiet. You felt his chest rise and fall beneath your cheek. “Of course I stayed.”

Your fingers tightened in his shirt. He said it so easily, like there had never been another possibility.

“I’ve never…” You sucked in a shaky breath. “I’ve never had anyone stay before.” You buried your face farther into his chest. “I always wake up alone. In the woods, or some shitty building.” Your voice cracked. “And I don’t know where I am half the time. I don’t know what I did. I don’t know if I hurt somebody.”

Jonathan’s arm tightened around you. “I just wake up and…” You swallowed. “There’s nobody there.”

His heartbeat was steady beneath your ear. You listened to it. He was alive. Thank God he was alive. “And this morning I opened my eyes and you weren’t there, and I thought…” Your breath hitched. “I thought I’d killed you.”

“You didn’t.”

“I know.”

“You did not hurt me.” Jonathan pulled you closer.

“I know.” You laughed wetly against his shirt. “Fuck, this is embarrassing.”

“No.” His response was firm and decisive.

“You’re gonna have snot all over you.”

“I spent a significant portion of last night covered in your saliva. I assure you, the threshold for disgust has shifted considerably.”

You pulled back. “What?”

Jonathan’s face went blank. You sniffled. “My saliva?”

“We will…” He paused, trying to find the words. “We will discuss this later.”

“You just said you were covered in my saliva.”

“Later.” Jonathan stared stubbornly elsewhere. You leaned forward and rested your forehead against his chest.

“Thank you anyway.”

His expression softened. “You don’t need to thank me.”

“I do.”

“No.” His hand moved slowly along your back. “You don’t.”

You closed your eyes. Jonathan rested his cheek lightly against the top of your hand. For several moments, neither of you spoke.

Then you whispered, “Will you stay next time?”

Jonathan didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

Your throat tightened. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

You smiled, closing your eyes and nestled yourself further in his chest. For once, thinking about the next full moon didn’t make you feel quite so alone.

[penguintm]

Gotham 2016.

[ph1shb0nez]

why am I late to everything good#gotham #just gotham things #gothamites #gotham show #gotham fox #ed nygma #edward nygma #nygmobblepot

[kungpaochicken15]

My hand is cramping from typing up this Scarecrow one shot it is 5k words AND I WAS ALMOST DONE HOW COULD MY BODY BETRAY MEEE

[acapelladitty]

Hi Dittz 💕💕 may I request Jonathan gobbling up them riddler balls💚 salted, hairy and raw...

I'm a nasty bitch so go wild 🥰

-Love, a blue clown.

Oh, i wonder who this could be 🤔🤣

The light dusting of reddish hair which covered Edward's balls was the exact same colour as the hair which ringed the base of Edward's cock and Jonathan found himself amused by that fact as he dragged his tongue along the seam of Edward's sack and smirked at the low noise which Edward made at the soft motion.

Pressing his lips against the skin, Jonathan opened his mouth to suckle lightly at the right side of Edward's balls. The scent of arousal and Edward's natural musk invaded his senses as the very tip of his nose pressed into the soft bush of Edward's pubic hair and Jonathan felt his own cock twitch dangerously where it lay untouched and trapped between his groin and the soft comfort of the bedsheets.

Spurred on by the desperate way in which Edward's hand fell to the messy mop of his head and tugged at the strands, a prideful determination filled Jonathan's chest as he quit his teasing and settled in to the task at hand. His movements were sloppy; fingers, tongue, and lips working in unison to deliver Edward to a satisfying end as he cupped, squeezed, licked and teased every inch of his balls like he was built for it.

"Jesus Christ, Jonathan." Edward whined, groin tightening dangerously as the tip of his cock leaked pearlescent pre-cum and twitched into Jonathan's hand while the man himself enjoyed his meal. "It's scary how good you are at this."

Link to AO3 ☆ Fic Masterlist ☆ Ko-Fi

[curleds]

Dr. Jonathan Crane, skin care expert

Stole this joke form this tiktoker: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMFyA5LC3/