Scenario: Jonathan, while still under the effects of his toxin, has been let loose from the GCPD shared holding cell and is now scared, wet, and alone in Gotham. How are you getting him to trust you?
Whatever negotiations had taken place regarding their roles and promises to the plans of the other were privy to themselves and themselves alone but your role in the proceeding had been made explicitly clear by Edward as he prepped you for the events ahead.
Do whatever Crane asks of you; demonstrate to him how skilled you are and how well you have been trained under my careful hand. Do that and you will show me how deserving you are of my time and attention as my favourite toy.
Smoothing out the hem of your shirtdress as your name is called, the brilliant green colour standing out beautifully against your skin, you stand tall as you enter the room almost silently, the rubber on the soles of your shoes masking any noise against the uneven flooring of the room.
Both men are standing, watching you expectantly. Approval is clear on Edward’s face as he takes in your simple yet pretty dress. Despite the role which you fill for him, he was often vocally disapproving of more revealing costumes, distaste making him scowl as he questioned if you worked as a whore when you were not present with him.
It was curious but whatever standard he held you to was his prerogative and you did appreciate the lack of necessary pageantry.
“This is my colleague,” Edward’s familiar voice fills the small room and you smile at him openly in greeting, “Dr. Jonathan Crane, more commonly known to the denizens of Gotham as the Scarecrow.”
He pauses and you take the unspoken hint.
“Hello, Dr. Crane.” You offer sweetly, ignoring the nerves which made your palms feel wet as you take in the tall figure who stands by Edward’s side; the infamous Scarecrow himself, in the flesh.
He is in full costume -one which you have seen many times on the evening news- the hood of his jacket pulled around his head to cast much of his face in shadow as he stands almost as tall as Edward. Only the gas filters peek out from the depths and your attention is quickly drawn to the various metal contraptions which decorate his body, from the brace which is wrapped around his left leg to the metal gauntlet which twinkles threateningly in the bare light.
“Go on.” Edward twists his hands to shuffle his fingers in a mocking motion. “Show the good doctor just how well you can perform, pet.”
Taking a seat on the wooden stool which lay just before the workbench which he could usually be found hunched over, Edward watches with a heated gaze as you take a tentative step towards Crane’s position. His oversized shirt is as open as ever, the lurid question marked pattern which is splashed across the fabric marred in places by the smudges of oil and grease which generally coat his appearance.
His green goggles long since abandoned, the oil on Edward’s face had been given a quick wipe before Crane’s arrival but he had neglected to wipe at his upper body and clear fingerprints of oil were visible amongst the sparse dark chest hair which peeked out from the top of his stained off-white vest.
Reaching Crane’s position, a wicked mixture of arousal and fear swirls within your gut and your thighs shuffle together as you feel the growing dampness within your core.
Edward had never shared you before but the idea was one which you had welcomed; agreeing to his demands based only on the promise of future rewards to come.
From here, Crane’s face is much clearer and you stare at him with a passive smile as you take in the damage of his torn visage. The majority of his features are hidden by his mask but one of his eyes holds a milky quality which suggest blindness and you can see the scarring which is partially hidden below the burlap. Looking at the seams, you can see that the edges of his mask have been sewn into the skin in certain areas and you hide your grimace behind your smile as you focus on the nervous energy which is guiding you.
“Foolish little pet.” Crane’s low tones send a shiver running down your spine as the words envelop you like a dark mist. “So brazen to stand before the Scarecrow and let him do what he wants with her.”
Blinking up at him, you open your mouth to respond but the words are stolen from you as his gauntlet glints in the light while his hand snaps up to wrap around your chin, pinning you into place.
His vice-like grip of your jaw forcing your head to tilt back further, your eyes lock on to his milky gaze as his deep, gravelly tones wash over you once again.
“And what is your greatest fear, my dear? I think it’s best not to keep secrets, particularly between new friends.”
“My grea- what?” Thrown off by the unexpected question, your eyes flick to Edward in panic as his body visibly stiffens while Crane continues to speak.
“What anxieties make your blood turn to ice in your veins and your mind stutter to a frightened halt? What thoughts drag you from the comfort of delusion and into the depths of reality?”
He flexes his gauntlet, the metal crunching with the small movement, and the sight of the needles in your peripheral vision cause an instinctive flinch to overcome you as your arm raises to hang off his thin forearm, his heavy jacket cold beneath your touch.
“Just say the word and we could discover them together.”
Fear blossoms in your chest, making your breath come sharply as your mind whirls into a sudden panic. You knew what his toxin could do. There wasn’t a soul in Gotham who didn’t fear being taken by the Scarecrow.
“Crane.” A growl of warning from Edward as he moves slowly to stand behind you, the heat of his body on your own making you squirm afresh as you press into him for safety.
“Edward.” Crane responds, amusement subtle in his heavy tone.
“You know my rules and if you attempt to break my favourite toy then I will reciprocate in an equally childish manner by seeing to it that your new upcoming leg brace design delivers a sequential and painful shock to your nasty withered limb.”
A gasp escapes your clenched jaw as Edward’s hand snakes itself around your waist possessively, his palm travelling up to settle atop your dress in the space just below your breasts.
“Such a lovely little toy,” Crane drops his hand from your jaw to wrap his cool fingers gently around your neck, your breath hitching in response, “it truly would be a shame to destroy it completely. Your master tells me you serve him willingly?”
His words are demanding, and you nod meekly as you breathe around his clenched fingers.
“Yes, Sir. And I am here to do the same for you,” you pause, “if you want.”
“The get to it.” He growls, releasing your neck.
Your hands drop to his slacks immediately, fumbling with the zipper there messily as the heat of Edward’s breath in your ear makes you feel dizzy. While not as physically attractive as Edward, there is something compelling in how Crane speaks and carries himself, despite his injuries, which makes you eager to please.
Pulling his cock free of his slacks, you glance down to see that it is as ordinary as any other; a thick patch of dark pubic hair covering the base of his shaft as his half-hard length lays hot and heavy in your palm. He’s longer than Edward but not as thick and from here you can see a prominent vein on the underside of his shaft which makes your mouth water slightly as you picture running the flat of your tongue along it.
Unlike the rest of his body you had felt so far, his cock is warm and you run your hand along the length of it, encouraging him to relax into your grip as his masked expression remains unchanging.
Behind you, Edward’s hands are warm against your hips as he massages the skin there with a firm pressure, the sensation making your bite your lips as a floaty feeling of disassociating settles in your heart. It’s almost unreal, the scene you’ve found yourself in as you pleasure a noted madman while enjoying the pleasures of another.
Edward’s fingers drop lazily to push up under the hem of your dress and stroke along the thin fabric of your panties. Gasping, you push into his hand greedily, taking the sharp pangs of pleasure like a woman deprived as you focus on continuing to draw your hand across Crane’s rapidly hardening cock.
Grinding your ass into Edward’s groin, you feel him press against you more harshly as his vest rubs against the back of your dress shirt. As you tilt your head back, you can feel the harsh stubble of his jaw against your neck and you purr out your approval as you swirl your fingers around the head of the cock within your grip; the movement earning you a grunt from Crane as he takes a small step forward to give you easier access.
A fresh set of hands on your body draw a gasp from your throat as Crane’s gauntleted hand comes to replace Edward’s missing hand on your hip and his free hand comes to rest on the top button of your dress shirt. With a quick movement, his fingers rip down the dress and the tinkle of the first few buttons as they rip from the dress and fall to the floor is melodic.
Your lack of bra now apparent, a slight growl reverberates from both men as Edward speaks into your ear.
“What do we have here, sweetheart? Is your mind so frail that you are incapable of dressing yourself properly?”
Flustered, your response is again stolen from you by Crane’s free hand as it dips within your ripped dress and grips your left breast roughly, kneading the sensitive skin as your hand stutters on his cock for a moment. His grip is not kind and a low keen of pained pleasure escapes you, the noise growing a touch higher as Edward slips a finger past your underwear as he thrusts it within you without ceremony.
Chilled fingers roll your peaked nipple between them, switching between and tugging the sensitive buds until you are a whimpering mess as you remain pinned between both men; the heels of your feet rising as you fight to escape the onslaught.
“She is very receptive, amusingly so.” As casual as his words are, there is a definite note of arousal within Crane’s words and you feel a flush of pleasure at the appreciative comment. “I can see why you dedicate the time to play with her.”
Heats coils in your gut as Edward’s finger curls within you, stroking that little spot that he has long since discovered drives you wild.
“She is well trained and a quick study.” Edward purrs with a huff of laughter. “I would not accept any less and I do not brook disobedience.”
“Do you share her often?”
“Rarely. There are very few who even approach my brilliance enough to be allowed the right.”
A sigh of relief as Crane releases your chest but his fingers were quick to continue their assault on your dress as he ripped free the remaining buttons. Now exposed save for your thin panties, a shudder of anxious arousal rolls through you and you rub your thumb along the head of Crane’s cock, spreading the small beads of pre-cum there as his pink tongue appears to run over non-existent lips.
Both men continue to speak about you as though you are not pinned between them.
“A beautiful specimen. If you tire of her then I would be happy to relieve you of her.”
Behind your head, you can feel Edward shake his head.
“Unlikely. She is mine. A claim you will soon understand as you sample her other talents.”
A voice right in your ear.
“Show him.”
Pulling his finger free of you with an obscene noise, a whine of disappointment draws from your throat as your approaching peak is robbed from you. Regardless, you follow his instructions as you slip free of his grasp and push your body flush against Crane to allow the wet warmth of your sex to brush against his hard cock as you writhe against him
“Wanton little creature.” Crane growls, his hands now settling on your waist as he peers down at you with an icy heat radiating from his good remaining eye.
A low yelp escapes your throat as he roughly pushes you towards the wooden stool which Edward had recently vacated. Cold air washes across your exposed chest and stomach and with it comes a shiver of mixed chill and arousal as Crane forces you to stand before the seat.
“Take them off.” A demand from the monster.
Obliging him, your fingers are quick to hook around the fabric of your panties and pull them past your thighs, legs stepping free of them as they fall to the floor.
“Sit.”
The length of your dress is enough to prevent the rough wood from sitting directly against your ass as you perch on the stool. Your thighs feel damp with your arousal and the urge to slip your fingers between your legs, to provide some relief to your aching core, is strong but you can sense that such a thing would be a bad move.
The cool metal of his gauntlet resting against your knee makes you gasp as the sharp ends of the needles graze the sensitive skin near the top of your thighs. Anxiety floods your system but you fight to quell it quickly by reminding yourself of Edward’s earlier words.
Dragging the needles down the soft skin of your thighs, a shudder dissolves into a low moan as his other hand comes to grip the flesh of your inner thigh roughly. The knuckles of his fingers brush your lips as he gropes the skin there and you spread your legs slightly to give him easier access.
The movement earns a hum of approval as he grinds his knuckles against your clit in a sudden motion, one which causes your body to jolt in place as though shocked. Fiery pleasure courses through you at the rough treatment after such neglect and you roll your hips into his hand as your eyes drop to his cock; your small teeth appearing to worry your lip as you realise that you want him to fuck you.
Perhaps sensing your mood, or following your gaze, Crane clears his throat hoarsely.
“Stand up and turn around. I think it’s time I took advantage of the generosity of our mutual friend, dear.”
Following the instruction, you don’t miss the slight inclination of Crane’s head towards Edward as he drops his gauntlet-free hand to his own cock, stroking himself roughly.
Bending across the stool, your breasts hang free of the wood as it presses against your sternum with a harsh pressure. Glancing to the side, you watch as Edward pierces you with his intelligent gaze; his emerald eyes taking in every small movement and reaction as his hand palms the visible tent in his slacks.
He was enjoying this little show.
At the realisation, a flush of colour graces your cheeks and a fresh surge of arousal floods you as a rough hand grips at the hair atop your scalp, making you grunt in surprise.
The thick head of Crane’s cock bumps clumsily against your slit and his knee-brace creaks subtly as he positions himself to enter you; his cock messily gathering up your juices as he coats the tip of cock to ensure his own comfort.
“Scream for me, dear.”
Before you can fully comprehend the words, his hips snap forward with a surprising brutality as he buries himself within you, sheathing the entire length of his cock in one thrust. The scream which escapes your throat is one of pained pleasure as he stretches you deliciously, his long cock brushing your walls in an entirely unexpected way.
Without giving any pause, Crane sets a frantic pace as he bucks against you; every erratic thrust making the heat in your scalp grow more intense as he pulls at your hair with each movement. Your grip on the edge of the stool is harsh as your fingers dig in to the wood while your teeth clamp down together with a painful click.
His cock feels wonderful yet terrible as it strokes those wonderfully sensitive areas within your walls but the complete lack of consideration for your comfort as he stretches you mercilessly has your lips spilling a mixture of whines and muffled groans. The thick band of arousal which curls within your gut makes it difficult to ignore the truth.
You were enjoying this.
Edward’s face appears before your own, his green gaze swimming in your vision due to the watering of your eyes as Crane keeps up his brutal use of your sex.
“You look quite ravished, sweetheart. Let’s see how far that can be pushed.”
His words are intimate, and, despite everything, your body instinctively relaxes as he stands to position before you, his hard cock quickly coming into view as he guides it towards your mouth. Not having much choice in the matter, you willingly part your lips as you swirl your tongue along the head of his cock, grunting as Crane’s grip of your hips tightens to a thoroughly bruising grip.
Growling with impatience, Edward sinks his cock between your lips as you hollow out your cheeks to accept him. The taste is familiar and a flood of relief sinks through you as Edward runs his dexterous fingers through your hair, inadvertently soothing the burn from Crane’s earlier assault as he allows you to sink your head along his length, pleasuring him in the way which you know he enjoys.
A sharp sting makes you scream around the cock within your mouth as pain radiates from your back and you realise that Crane has pierced the skin there with his gauntlet, his needles stabbing through the remnants of your dress. But just as quickly as it came, the pain dissipates into a dull, throbbing ache as something suspiciously wet trickles across your spine.
“Oh, she did not like that.” Edward croons with a groan of satisfaction as your squeals of discomfort vibrate around his cock. “It’s almost a pity that her mouth is busy because she makes the most beautiful noises when she is distressed.”
“If you would allow me to play with her on my terms then you could experience the full range of her vocal talents.” Pausing as his cock sheathes itself within you almost violently, Crane’s hoarse tones are silken, polished with a temptation that your heart hopes Edward can avoid.
A calloused hand slips from your hair to wrap around your neck instead, pulling your head back painfully as Edward forces your head up to look at him, the tip of his cock just trapped between your lips as he peers down at you.
“Would you like that, pet? Do you want to go and play with the Scarecrow?”
Despite his grip, you shake your head from side to side as you refuse the offer, eyes shining brightly as you blink away the gathered wetness there, one small tear leaking from your left eye to roll down your cheek.
No. No. No.
Amusement and heated lust are splaying across Edward’s features as he tilts his head at you, his brow cocking as an unspoken warning as he releases your head.
“Again, she is my toy to break, and I am more than capable of taking fine care of her as I see fit.”
Relieved by his words, you hum in pleasure as your tongue draws across his shaft, encouraging him to thrust himself deeper within your mouth. An invitation which he takes to quickly, snapping his hips forward and forcing his cock down the tip of your throat.
Sheer panic rolls through you as your throat is momentarily blocked, legs kicking out from the floor as you clench around the cock which has resumed its punishing pace within your aching slit. A fresh cry is swallowed by his cock as a cool hand comes to rest on your clit, rubbing the ultra-sensitive nub of nerves with a cruel pressure as you struggle against the wooden stool.
Between the lack of oxygen from the cock blocking your airway to the rough cock which was continuing to thrust within you, a sense of being fully plugged and overstimulated settles in your gut as your orgasm hits with a frightening intensity; hot waves of pleasure forcing your knees to smack against the stool as your body writhes in position, moans vibrating around Edward’s cock as he grunts in appreciation above you.
Crane is not far behind and you feel his cock twitch within you walls as he continues to snap his hips against your ass, uncaring of your overstimulated suffering. However, just as you think he’s going to come, he pulls free of your hole and instead growls out his orgasm as his release spatters across your ass and lower back.
The sensation of warmth against your skin, his release marking you even as his hand drops down to smack the skin of your exposed ass in one sharp strike, forces a long and suffering groan from your lips.
Following his colleague, Edward pulls free of your lips one final time before thrusting his hips forward as he buries his cock deep within your throat; his hands pinning your mouth against the base of his cock, his pubic hair tickling the tip of your nose, as he unleashes a frantic moan which coincides with his release. It burns hot in your throat as you desperately swallow it down, unable to do much else as you fight to take a breath.
Mercifully, his grip of your head lessens after only a moment and he pulls free of your lips as you cough harshly, a small string of saliva connecting your mouth to his cock as he wipes himself clean with a handkerchief before tucking his cock away back into his slacks.
Laying prone on the stool, your body still bending over the wood as you had been placed, you are hyper-sensitive to just how ruined you body feels; from the sting of your sex as the wetness there feels cool and exposed, to how abused your throat is as you take in deep pants of fresh air. The sting of your back is also present and you wonder how rough the damage there is as a result of his damned needles.
A soothing hand makes itself known on your hair and you turn wet eyes up to meet Edward’s gaze once again and you can tell he is pleased with your performance. That approval, shining from his features in that subtle way, is almost enough to make it all worth it as his free hand extends itself towards you, encouraging you to stand.
Rising to wobbly legs, you are thankful for Edward’s hand as he guides you to the nearby couch, allowing you to drop to the old piece of furniture with a soft exhale as the tattered remains of your dress do little to cover your marked body.
Glancing at Crane, you find his passive gaze on your own; his cock having long since been tucked away and hidden from sight as he retained his earlier professional appearance. If it were not for the threat of toxin, you could be tempted by a session with the good doctor but the fear of his twisted tastes is enough to make you thankful for what little protections Edward is willing to offer.
“Do you see how she performs like a fine piece of machinery?” Edward’s showman voice carries without effort in the quiet of the room. “A perfect little plaything for a genius of my calibre. Perhaps if you spent less time chasing shadows, Crane, then you could have something of a similar quality.”
“My work demands no distraction,” Crane counters slowly, his piercing gaze never leaving your exhausted expression as you lounge on the couch, “but I will confess to enjoying your dear little pet.”
A strange flush of pride washes through your chest at the admission but it is quick to once again turn to a faint anxiety as Crane continues his speech, the metal of his leg brace creaking as he approaches the door to exit the room.
“Perhaps one day you will change your mind and allow me to play with her fully.”
And with that, he disappeared through the doorway, allowing the door to click shut behind him to leave you alone once again with Edward.
“Sleep.” Edward commands from his standing position as he observes you from a slight distance. “I have work to complete and you are clearly exhausted.” His voice dropping a notch, he follows up his demand with a teasing edge. “When you awaken, we can then see about a review performance when you are better rested.”
Taking his advice even as you wince in discomfort as your back grazes across the fabric of the couch, your eyes slip shut and you allow the faint sounds of his mechanical tinkering to lull you into a blissful oblivion.
Here the finally finished comic commissioned by @dercolaris, for the last part of the first chapter of his amazing story "Secrets" (if you're into horror and scriddler you may want to check it out, it's really great in its intensity ^_^<3)!
The whole thing has been quite the experience, and I believe I'm pretty happy with course and outcome - thank you for giving me the opportunity to learn and improve myself @dercolaris!
Hiya love your page btw! I too am a fan of Arkham Knight Scarecrow (I call him scarebear cause he's so precious) I was gonna ask what headcanons or tidbits do you have for him?
Aw! I'm glad you like my batshit little blog lolol
I have quite a few headcanons about him, typically regarding his injuries and the like.
Here we go~
Following Croc:
Crane had a lot of infections following his altercation with Croc at the Asylum. He spent a lot of time in hiding. He'd jumped from one questionably ethical underground doctor to the next. His left leg took months to heal enough to where he could use it, and it is still healing from the events of AK. As his infections healed and he regained much of his autonomy, he began working independently again, relying on his toxin more than ever before to stay safe in Arkham City.
He tucked himself away to work on his toxin, of course, but found the sharp pains and discomfort from his damaged nerves extremely uncomfortable at the beginning.
He used a cane during the time to reduce pressure on his healing left leg, he used it up until he was accustomed to his leg brace. Due to the nerve damage in his leg, he had difficulty relearning to walk.
Generally:
He uses the steroids that he has for his toxin to reduce the pain from his operations, and help with any inflammation.
He has a Wartenberg wheel he uses rather regularly on the bottom of his left foot, to keep track of the healing of his nerves.
He tries to occupy most of his time, as downtime has turned from relaxing to frustrating. Due to his worsening eyesight, he gets frustrated with writing and reading. Crane had known braille, but now he's actively come to use it.
In terms of working in a lab, he now uses liquid level detectors that beep at him, everything has a textured label, and he keeps notes in an audio log so he can refer back to them without struggling to read his notes.
Jon typically has to sit on a stool in the shower, or lets himself sink into a hot bath to bathe. He has to be tender and careful while doing so, as many of his scars still strike sharp pains when touched firmly.
He eats very little, usually nonperishable goods he can keep in one of a number of his little safe houses--Crane's hotplates meet the bottoms of many cans of soup.
He takes very good care of his leg brace--as good of care as any terrorist who needs assistance in walking, he knows if something goes wrong with it there's no telling how long it will be before he can repair it.
He keeps to himself more than ever though, because of the lack of mobility he has. Many of those who work for him only see him in passing, and seldom get close enough to really see his face.
He finds enjoyment in the unsettled looks in their eyes and their dodging gazes.
Here are just some, that I can think of at the moment, anyway. I think that Jon is very practical, so keeping note of things like his healing, I imagine, is important to him. He's stubborn, sure, but he does know that sometimes he must lie in wait, and sometimes he must ask for help.
This is the end result of an ink print done from scratching into a panel of plexiglass. After scratching was completed, we applied black ink and pressed it into this sheet of paper. Then waited for the ink to dry completely and began the process of laying down colors. This was extremely fun to do and if we can find all the right supplies, we might actually do another plexiglass print later on in the future!
Reblogs are highly appreciated!😘 Reposts without credit will earn you a kick in the teeth
Happy Pride Month Everybody! Just to let people know that no matter how you identify, everyone is welcome here! Have a fun, happy and safe Pride Month everybody!
We definitely will come up with some sexuality and gender headcanons for our beloved Spooky King and the rest of the Arkhamverse but we'd also absolutely love to hear of your own headcanons!! Any and all will be accepted here so let there be no fear or insecurity to hold you back!
turnnoffyourmind
yousharknotpass
theartofmadeline
stormborns
