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reddtea · 2 years

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The scarecrow, Jonathan Crane

I decided to make Scarecrow and Doctor Crane into two separate entities. I also want Doctor Crane to be a chemist or biochemist? I just know more about those than I do psychology for one and I think it's best if he's the one who has the means to invent his own fear toxin.

regarding fear toxin... I think it's pretty weak sauce. I think when your primary weapon can be fought off by the power of being just to gosh darn brave. That's a problem and really lame. Hallucinating your insecurities and issues while kind of interesting for a visual medium, doesn't totally cut it for me when you want to have a sustainable villain that can regularly be an actual challenge for the hero.

I'm seriously not impressed with scarecrow coming back and being like "It's pretty much the same shit as last time but STRONGER!" and then batman trips balls again about his dead parents. It's kind of stale.

So looking into what could be the real life equivalent of fear toxin could be, with the hallucinations, it's can pretty much be chalked up to a really bad acid trip, shrooms, or way too much marijuana. While kind of funny I'm not completely satisfied with a scarecrow that's just a drug addict that's a little too enthusiastic about sharing his stash and maybe writing down what happens for quote unquote "psychology reasons".

So what I'm suggesting is maybe fear toxin can be a real chemical compound used for biological warfare or something with some serious symptoms. Things that simulate the feeling of or can straight up trigger a panic attack. a good match for a real life fear toxin is 3-Quinuclidinyl benzilate. Symptoms characterized by the mnemonic "Mad as a hatter, red as a beet, dry as a bone and blind as a bat" there's antidotes one of them include atropine (you know belladonna? the deadly nightshade) . Another possible fear toxin is 1,1,2-trichloro-1,2,2-trifluoroethane a refrigerant that when inhaled irritates the lungs, causing coughing or shortness of breath. Exposure can also cause headaches, dizziness, tiredness or confusion. You can also lose recent memory or have a convulsion and an even higher dose can cause irregular heartbeat and death. (info from Delaware health and social services, division of health)

I really like the idea of the fear toxin being more than just a hallucigen that you can will your way through as Jon just watches you as you trip balls. The fear toxin is a serious chemical that if not reasonably controlled or is thrown about willy nilly can actually kill someone and to Jon it's just a deterrent to keep people away from him not necessarily a weapon just to hurt people.

Regarding Jonathan Crane and the scarecrow, two seperate entities... Jon is a nervous wreck of a man who is terrified of people and death yet it sort of follows him everywhere he goes. In the form of a giant rag doll creature that he doesn't understand. Dr. Crane is an absolute hermit keeping completely to himself as far as anyone is concerned and as far as Crane is concerned, which is about everything, the creature that follows him around; the scarecrow is more than happy to kill anything that threatens him and constantly keeps him company. Balancing his terror of the world and his worry of the creature killing something that spooked him is always on his mind. Making him the most skittish person anyone has ever met.

Yet he's pushed into figuring out a mystery of who hired goons that tried to attack him and why were they after his research. When he's stuck with bodies of the thugs in his lab, which he gets help from a special coworker to resolve it, and the constant anxiety of it possibly happening again.

Crane develops fear toxin with it in mind as a nonlethal deterent for anything that might try to harm him as he tries to spare people from dying to the scarecrow creature that stalks and protects him from any of his perceived dangers. All the while hiding the creature and trying to solve why someone wanted to steal his work.

-- I really like the idea of Batman being a detective more than a fighter. I love the idea of his villains having their own problems to sort out and Batman always being a bit behind in figuring out what their deal is and why they ended up where they are. Instead of the asylum just knowing everything about everyone and chalking up their issues as some generalized mental illness. I feel like my Scarecrow is one of the special cases of which he's dragged into villainy, ends up having to embrace it with another villain's encouragement, and uncovering a deeper secret on his own all so he can get some peace of mind.

#scarecrow toxin #scarecrow #scare #dcu #dc #dc comics #the batman #batman comics #batman #batman villians #batman villains #batman rogues #dc batman #jonathan crane

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puppetmaster13u · 7 months

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Prompt 45

Hear me out. Danny gets de-aged and thrown into Gotham, everything’s sort of normal there. He’s somewhere between 4 and 6 and absolutely tiny. Looks a little sickly, covered in his death-scars and looks like some sort of fae child or something.

Now it’s Gotham, normally this would mean he’d have gotten kidnapped, gotten stolen from the streets or something. The thing is though, he wasn’t dropped into Gotham all alone.

It’s kind of hard to take a child when there’s a giant eldritch abomination of a knight seemingly living in the kid’s shadow that causes terror with its very presence.

#dcxdp #dpxdc #prompts #danny fenton #fright knight #No one wants to tell Scarecrow #Scarecrow finds out anyway #He has found his soulmate #And there's even a child who is immune to his fear toxin too #Oh no he has to pspspsps this feral child to try and flirt with their father?? Caretaker???#Scarecrow x Fright Knight #Crowknight

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pandadrake · 2 months

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Hroo hrah

I think its funny that the Scarecrow keeps showing up in Batman villain team-ups because I honestly think he causes more problems than he solves for everyone involved.

Couldn't figure out which versions of these characters to use so I just mashed stuff together.

#Dr. Crane is dedicated to one thing and that is giving everyone the worst trip of their lives #he teams up with Jervis a bunch so I guess they're bffs #Harvey and Two Face have different opinions on this thus the singular pronoun #There’s also the time when Jon removed someone’s ability to fear for the hell of it and that guy terrorized all of the rogues for a week #random batman fan art out of nowhere #my art #scarecrow #batman #mad hatter #jonathan crane #jervis tetch #harvey dent #two face #batman fanart #fear toxin #Batman fancomic #Batman

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ahfrickenfrick · 9 days

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they don’t talk about what the others say/do if they get gassed by scarecrow

the screams and pleas to people who are no longer here, the fact that dick climbs up buildings and tries to catch people who aren’t there

that tim acts so eerily calm on the gas, that the only way they could tell is that he wasn’t verbally responding along with his skyrocketing heart rate, and then the screams that come when he finally sleeps

it was when it took five of them to keep jason from trying to rebury himself after a rough dosage that they decided to actually talk about it

how cass has memories and sees blood from her only kill, over and over, feeling and seeing his anguish without a single word spoken

steph’s was being trapped in a hospital bed, she can feel bruce and tim mourning beside her, she’s screaming to be let out but can’t move

duke watches his parents get gassed by the joker, over and over, he’s never able to reach them. never able to save them, no matter how hard he tries

damian’s mind fills with hisses of how he’s betraying his bloodline, either path he chooses, one side is full of shame. anytime he’s gassed, it’s a toss up on who’s delivering the blows

bruce reveals that his mistakes flash through him, he constantly sees the heartbreak he inflicted onto his family, in field and out of, how sometimes it’s his own parents, coming and showing their disapproval, with how he’s failed

they spend the rest of the night in the main living room, covered in large blankets and drinking tea, just embracing the silent company of the others,

the comfort in the knowledge that they all know and have felt and yet, they all are still here

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greenglowinspooks · 7 months

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(DCxDP) The obligations of a rogue versus those of a parent (Pt. 4)

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Tw: descriptions of body horror, Dr. Crane has PTSD and Does Not Realize, Crane has an actual panic attack and just doesn’t care, the Riddler makes one (1) sex joke about Batman

Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually

(Pt. 1 here) (Prev here) - (Pt. 5 here)

(Masterlist here)

—

Dr. Jonathan Crane is in his lab, the acrid scent of chemicals filling the air, and his hands are shaking.

Danny’s health, for the first week that he had him, had been steadily improving at an extremely quick rate. However, his healing had begun to stagnate. Danny said that it was because his body had run out of ectoplasm, and that while there was a lot of ambient ectoplasm in Gotham, he needed a stronger type in order to heal.

And so, that led Dr. Crane here.

He had stolen the research notes from the Penguin years ago regarding his experimentation on him.

(He quite vividly remembers the sound of bone creaking and groaning as it twisted, lengthened. The squelching of shifting tendons and muscles, the strange fabric-like tightening of skin. The feeling of going from man to monster, of losing all claim to his humanity.)

Danny had called him Liminal, part ghost. He had said that he was transformed by, among other things, a kind of synthetic ectoplasm.

Danny needed ectoplasm.

Crane had the research notes. He had every ingredient necessary. And yet, attempt after attempt failed.

The chemical smell burns his nose. His hands tremble.

Dr. Crane is not afraid.

He doesn’t feel fear anymore. He’s tried to, many, many times, but nothing has worked. And yet, his hands are shaking still.

(The horrifying sensation of vertebrae pop-pop-popping along his spine, growing and lengthening. The unbearable itching beneath his skin as toxin glands begin to form. The feeling of his teeth sharpening and elongating, of his skull growing, of his vision changing and brightening. The awful stench of chemicals. The awful stench of ectoplasm.)

Jonathan takes careful note of his shaking hands, his blurring vision, his accelerated heart-rate and shallow breathing.

(Human hands. Human vision. Human heart and lungs and organs.)

He takes note of them, but he does not let that distract him from the task at hand. Danny is not a chemist, but Jonathan is.

The boy knows enough about chemistry in theory, but he won’t go anywhere near Crane’s equipment. He seems to have some sort of intense fear of laboratory settings, probably developed during his stay with the GiW, and Crane is willing to respect that, if only because he cannot afford to lose him.

As such, Crane is the only one qualified to do this. And, unfortunately, if he isn’t successful the boy may very well die.

He heats the chemicals to precisely the right temperatures, adding each one to its correct container.

Dr. Crane thinks of the Scarebeast, that creature born of cruelty and greed and a sense of superiority. That creature which he tries to ignore is a part of him, that can never be removed. A damage which cannot be undone.

He pours the contents of a small beaker into a larger flask, watching the liquids swirl together. The stench in the air is becoming closer and closer to the one burned into his memory.

Crane’s whole body is wracked with unpleasant sensations. It’s truly unfortunate, he thinks, that despite his mind’s lack of fear, his body still reacts so harshly.

Jonathan’s eyes wander, eventually settling on a purple and green card sitting innocently on the corner of the table.

Right.

Even if they wiped out the GiW tomorrow, and even if Danny could survive without ectoplasm, he would still be in danger.

Crane has to get him back to good health. It’s the only way he can be sure that the boy can defend himself properly.

The solution in the flask begins to foam, and Jonathan does not hesitate as he adds the final ingredient. He pours the mixture into a new container, capping it and placing it into a freezer set to -40 degrees.

Hopefully this time he got the timing right.

Jonathan tries to relax, the ventilation in the room slowly but surely clearing the familiar smell from the air.

He thinks of the letter.

Surely, he thinks, that man can come up with some better material for his jokes. Or, at least something new.

Same old threats, same old attempted poisoning.

Aiming his threats at Danny, though, that was new. New and utterly unacceptable.

Scarecrow did what he had to.

He doubted that his solution would last forever, of course, as with that man it never did. As such, he would prepare both himself and Danny for the inevitable moment that his choices came back to bite them.

However, for the moment, they were safe. Danny could rest and recover, and Jonathan could figure out a plan to minimize possible damages.

Jonathan is no longer shaking.

He’s exhausted. This is his fifth attempt today, and each one leaves an unfortunate strain on his mind and body.

With a sigh, he settles himself into his seat at a nearby desk, opening up his computer and logging his most recent attempt. He still has to wait for it to chill to know if it was successful, but he can always update the logs later.

Once he’s done, he stretches, joints popping loudly as he walks to the freezer.

When he sees the results of his tireless work, the ghost of a smile flits across his face.

Success.

Jonathan picks up the jug of ectoplasm and leaves the lab, which is in all actuality the basement of the new apartment that he moved himself and Danny into after receiving the note. The scrappy old woman who was his landlord had told him that as long as he paid her five hundred dollars up front, she would let him set up in the basement without any questions or cop calls.

And so, the most expensive apartment in the Narrows was his.

At least, he thought, the distance between the basement and the apartment was short enough that Danny didn’t have to sit in while he was doing his labwork.

Jonathan knew that he didn’t exactly have a strong grasp on the concept of ‘lab safety,’ proven by his built-up immunity to almost every toxic chemical he’d ever encountered, and he doubted that Danny should be around such an environment.

He was back to the apartment quickly, not bothering to hide the self-satisfied smile on his face. Danny is sitting in his armchair, trying to read one of his books. Danny looks up, ready to greet him, when he sees the jug in his hands and pauses.

“Is that..?”

“Synthetic ectoplasm,” Jonathan says proudly, “I found the Penguin’s research notes and decided to recreate it, since you said that you needed it to heal properly. I’m not sure if it’ll work the same as what you usually have, but I hope it’s helpful all the same.”

Danny is standing, now, and looking at Jonathan with a strange look in his eyes. He looks, Jon thinks, like he’s about to cry.

Then Danny is rushing forward and wrapping his arms around Jonathan, his scrawny form shaking.

Jonathan is, for a moment, horrified. Did he do something wrong somehow? Why is this child, who’s so afraid of touch, hugging him?

And then he hears Danny’s voice, and he knows that it was all worth it.

“Thank you,” he’s mumbling, over and over, “thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you so much.”

“Of course,” Jonathan says softly, because what else can he say?

The boy cries in his arms for a while, and Jonathan briefly wonders what his life must have been like before, if a person like him can be seen as a comforting figure.

Then, Danny pours himself a small glass of the synthetic ectoplasm, putting the rest into the small fridge which had come with the apartment, and he settles back down, sitting in the armchair once again.

Jonathan sits opposite of him, and they chat with one another as Danny drinks.

Danny talks to him about the stars and tells him about different spaceships, and Jonathan makes sure to pay attention and ask the boy questions.

He doesn’t miss the way that Danny lights up every time he asks him something about his interests. He’s so passionate, so smart, a trait that he seldom sees outside of his fellow rogues, and Jonathan wants to encourage that.

It’s…nice. Peaceful, almost.

And then the front door flies open, because Jonathan isn’t allowed to have nice things.

“Jon,” a familiar voice rings out, “what the hell?!”

Danny is frozen in place, clearly terrified.

Jonathan heaves a sigh, turning to face the nuisance who’s entered his apartment.

“Eddie,” he drawls, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Edward’s face is red with anger as he invades Jonathan’s apartment.

“Oh, I don’t know! Maybe it’s the fact that you sent a bunch of rogues a cryptic message and then dropped off the face of the earth for two weeks! I was worried, Jon!”

Jonathan hums in acknowledgement.

“I didn’t think it was that cryptic,” he says, picking up a book in order to pointedly ignore the Riddler.

“Oh, of course you didn’t, you straw-stuffed hickory dickory dickhead. I swear, you’re always—” he pauses, finally having noticed Danny sitting opposite of Jonathan, “—who is this?”

“My apprentice,” Jonathan replies, dreading the upcoming headache he was no doubt going to develop from Edward’s company, “he’s helping me hunt down the GiW. His name is Danny.”

Edward gasps dramatically.

“You—an apprentice?! And you’re letting him sit in the old man chair?! You don’t even let me sit in the old man chair,” he wails, draping himself over the headrest of the couch with a flourish, “Jonathan, I thought I knew you!”

“Edward,” Jonathan says, “get out of my apartment.”

“Oh my goodness, this is incredible. You’re becoming the bat!”

“I am not becoming the bat, Eddie, now get out.”

Edward has a shit-eating grin on his face as he waltzes over to Danny. Danny, who seemed terrified when he first appeared, is now looking at him with obvious amusement written all over his face.

“I mean, look at him! The hair, the eyes, the scrappy build. If you put him in one of those traffic light vigilante costumes, he could easily pass as a Robin!”

“I’m not doing this with you today, Eddie.”

“Riddle me this, Jon: I am a treasure hidden inside of a chest. You can break me, or steal me, or give me a rest. I can flutter, or pound, or attack, or drop, but if you don’t have me, you’re certainly fucked. What am I?”

Jonathan pauses for a moment before he groans, dropping his head into his hands.

“Eddie.”

Danny sits still, a confused look on his face as he repeats the riddle silently. Then, his face lights up in delight.

“A heart!”

“Jon, I like this one,” Edward says with a smile, ruffling Danny’s hair, “you are correct! A heart, something that I wasn’t aware that our dear Jonathan had!”

“Eddie, stop.”

“No, no,” Edward says, “I was worried about you, you deserve this. I mean, you even missed girls night! You never miss girls night!”

“Girls night?” Danny asks, absolutely delighted.

“Oh, of course,” Edward says, sprawling over on the couch, dangerously close to just laying in Jonathan’s lap, “we have it once a week. I’m invited because of Selina and Jon’s invited because Harley likes him.”

“And what does girls night entail, exactly?”

“Eddie,” Jonathan groans, “please.”

“Well,” Edward hums, “we usually paint our nails, or watch a movie, or gossip about the other rogues, and occasionally, we tell each other about any ‘encounters’ we have with Batman,” he says, raising his eyebrows up and down.

Danny’s jaw drops.

“Edward, shut up,” Jonathan says, an irritated tone in his voice that wasn’t there before.

“No way,” Danny says, “I thought that Batman, like, hated you guys or something. You mean he actually..?”

“Oh, the Bat is much like a bottle of liquor or a cheap cigarette, in that he was made to be passed around.”

Danny chokes on air.

“Edward Nygma,” Jonathan hisses, getting out of his seat and looming over the man, “get the hell out.”

Edward pales.

“Leaving, leaving!” Edward says, dashing away from Jonathan. He pauses, turning to flash Danny a quick smile.

“Remember Danny, I’m your favorite uncle! Not any of the other rogues, me!”

With that, he leaves, the room falling completely silent.

And, as per usual, that silence does not last.

“You full-named him?” Danny asks gleefully, “and it worked?”

Jonathan just sighs, sitting down on the couch and rubbing at his temples.

“Please, don’t take anything Eddie says seriously. He’s a moron.”

“Dr. Crane, please let me come to girls night with you,” Danny pleads, his eyes sparkling, “I promise I won’t embarrass you.”

Jonathan groans.

“Of course you won’t, Eddie will do it for you.”

“Come on, please?”

“I think we’re a bit busy with the GiW at the moment,” Jonathan snaps. He pauses as he notices the crestfallen expression on Danny’s face.

This boy is going to be the death of him.

“Perhaps, though, when all that is taken care of…”

Danny cheers, grinning wildly, and Jonathan is not at all relieved to see him happy again. Certainly not.

The rest of the day is relatively normal.

Danny works on trying to get information from the GiW database while Crane refines his his fear toxin, both preparing for a raid on the GiW base they located in Gotham.

It was only a temporary base, nothing of note, but there was a chance of discovering more bases through it, and that wasn’t something either of them were willing to give up.

Still, something like this would take time. Rushing would only lead to failure.

…

Late in the night, long after Danny is fast asleep in his room, Jonathan pauses.

The GiW are not the only threat out there. They aren’t the only threat to him or to Danny. Perhaps it could be helpful to reach out to someone with greater resources than himself.

He sends a quick message to Red Hood.

Hopefully, he thinks, everything will go smoothly.

—

#dcxdp #dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp fic #liminal scarecrow #Jon’s PTSD is triggered by the smell of ectoplasm because his life is a nightmare #HDJFNDNDNFKDJF #I am the master of emotional whiplash #rip Jon just trying to have some peace in this fucking house #never gonna happen king 🫡#oh also Eddie is not lying that bat can manwhore #and like half the rogues in Gotham know this from experience #and also most of the JL #and some of JL dark #btw Eddie and Jon are besties #they’re both awful but they make it work #when Jon full-names Eddie that just means that if he doesn’t stop whatever he’s doing he’s gonna get a dose of fear toxin #Eddie isn’t intimidating enough to full-name anyone so if he gets mad he just bashes whoever in the head with his cane #Jon is the living embodiment of ‘me and my girl don’t argue she bash me in the head with a rock and I walk it off like a man’#also side note I’m not doing any ships in this #because I don’t want to #they are just Like That #if you wanna read it that way though it’s completely fine #also shoutout 2 that one scriddler fic on ao3 that helped inspire that riddle LMAO

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timisntdeadyet · 9 months

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Figuring out how to put Scarecrow's fear gas into a vape cartridge seems like a good idea tbh. Microdose that sh*t, not only would it build an immunity to the fear toxin itself, but constant mild hallucinations of your worst fears would build an immunity to real terrifying situations (you can't show me anything worse than what I see everyday). Why has noone done this?

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jonathan-cranes-mistress-of-fear · 5 months

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something something...poisoning the water supply

#Jonathan Crane #Scarecrow #The Scarecrow #Fear Toxin #Batman #Gotham #DC #DC Comics #MistressMemes

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kettlefire · 7 months

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Ember & the Dark Knight

She just wanted her guitar back. That's all Ember wanted, she needed it. The growing pain inside grew the longer she was away from it.

Her only outlet. The only thing that helped her. In every way of the word. She had to fight tooth and nail to be allowed to keep it in the first place.

Promised she's never use it against the living again. Never try to brainwash anyone.

Then she lost it. Just like that. Flying through the Zone, and a particularly harsh natural portal ripped it from her grasp.

It's the only reason she was in this godforsaken city. It reeked of anguish and pain, and Ember just wanted to get out of there.

Something about the place the portal spit her out into, just didn't sit right with her. She wanted in and out of quickly as possible.

To just get back home in the Zone. Back to Skulker.

Except there just had to be a really weird guy in burlap sack mask. Which was weird enough as is, but hey Ember wasn't one to judge.

She tried to be civil. To ask for her guitar back. Her baby that the man had clutched in his grasps.

Maybe she should have seen it coming. This place had to be stranger than Amity. The man barely even flinched when he saw her glowing form.

Ember expected a fight okay. That was it, just a fight and then she can take her things and get the hell out of dodge.

But it couldn't be that easy. Of course it couldn't be.

Because then a large man in a black armor suit just had to come falling down from the ceiling. And of course the human man seemed to scare the weird Scarecrow guy.

Ember tried to be calm again. She really did, she promised the little dipstick that she's work on her anger.

That was until she got a burst of green gas into her face.

It was almost comical. The way she swatted the gas away from her face with a slight cough. Glaring at Scarecrow and Batman. As she found out the dude in the furry suit was called.

Scarecrow seemed excited, like he couldn't wait to see what happened. But Ember noticed Batman tense. Weapons on hand, and ready for what to come. Leaving her in a full confusion.

Then it happened. Whatever that gas was finally kicked in.

And everything was on fire.

She couldn't breath. Oh god, she couldn't breath. Heat radiated from the walls, and the two men just faded from her focus.

She needed to get out.

And she tried. She tried, even as her no longer functioning lungs seemed to ache for air.

Even as her core seemed to mimic a heart. Straining, and pounding against the fear, panic, and pain she felt.

But Ember tried to suck it up. Pull away from the licking heat of the flames. Forcing her way through the warehouse.

Looking for an exit. An escape. Anyway to get her way back home. To get back to Skulker.

At this point, Ember didn't care about her guitar anymore. It could burn for all she cared. She just wanted to get back to her love.

All that fight she felt faded away in an instant. Zapping out of her the moment her eyes landed on him.

Skulker, the love of her life, was there.

Trapped in the flames before her. The metal of his suit twisting and warping. Damn near melting beneath the intense heat.

A pain Ember wouldn't would even wish on her worse enemy. She knew what it felt like to burn. It felt like she was dying watching it happen to Skulker.

She stared wide eyed and frozen as the twisted and broken Skulker tried to stagger towards her. Broken sounds and choked screams leaving him as his suit fell apart. As the fire began to take over.

Ember fell to her knees, tears streaming down her face and pain tearing at her heart. She couldn't breath. She didn't need to but she felt like she was suffocating.

Then she screamed.

The first sound she made since this nightmare began. Reverberating through her chest, tearing out from her vocal cords in a damn near painful sound.

She wasn't sure when she had closed her eyes. But before she knew it, there were hands on her shoulder. And she fought back. Tried to shove the hands off her. Too panicked to even think of her powers.

She was terrified of what she'll see. A twisted and melting Skulker pulling her closer the fire. The only image her brain could fathom for the reason of the too warm hands grasping at her arms.

Ember heard it. Barely there behind the loud roar of the fire, and the still broken cries of her lover. It was a voice.

A normal voice. A concerned voice.

It took all her willpower to pull her eyelids open. Prepared to see the worse of the worse. Except it wasn't like that.

The fire seemed like an overlay. A horrible projection of something that wasn't there. Expect him. He was real. Ember knew it, because he was there when the nightmare started.

The man in the suit. The Batman.

His gloved hands were trying to pull her back to reality. Pull her away from the nightmare.

"Look at me. It's not real."

Those words, spoken in the gruff and deep almost robotic voice was what did it for her.

Almost in an instance, it was all gone. She was seated on a perfect fine, and not burning warehouse floor. Tears burning her eyes, chest in complete pain, as her core rocked with the experience.

Ember didn't know why she did it. Maybe she just need to feel comforted. Like a child after a nightmare, she latched onto the man.

The man that pulled her out of this nightmare. Both residual fear and panic, paired with overwhelming relief flooded her.

Because she gets to go home. Back to Skulker. Back to the Zone. She even gets to see that little dipstick again.

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lasagnebats · 5 months

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Dr. Jonathan Crane admitting you into Arkham Asylum because he CAN

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slut4thebroken · 11 months

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Exposure Therapy pt. 2

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jonathan Crane × reader

Summary | Your first day as patient 23250.

Warnings | 18+, sexual content, smut, rape, non con, dub con, rough oral, p in v sex, fear play, crying, rape (again. I'm really emphasizing this lol), forced breeding, unprotected sex, involuntary admission to asylum, non consensual use of fear toxin, drugs, coercion.

Words | 4k

Notes | This is rape. Just straight up. Again. Final warning. If you won’t like it, don’t read it.

Ao3 link | <3

Fic Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Part 1

When you woke up, the first things you noticed were how dry your mouth was, how much your head hurt, and the aching pain between your legs. You forced yourself to open your eyes under the bright fluorescents, finding a silhouette sitting across from you. You weren’t able to distinguish who it was as your eyes adjusted to the blinding lights, but the second you could see, your heart dropped to your stomach. You instantly tried to get up, to escape, but your limbs were all restrained by the examination chair you were on. The noise alerted the man across from you and he closed the file he was writing in as he looked at you.

“I’m sorry about the restraints. I couldn’t have you trying to harm me again.”

“No,” You shook your head, eyes quickly filling with tears. “Please let me go.” You whimpered.

“Don’t cry. It’s been a very long day and I don’t have the patience to pretend I care.” He sighed, crossing his hands and resting them on the table. “Now that you’re awake I’d like to start the evaluation. Do you know why you’re here?”

“Because you fucking kidnapped me.” You spat, thrashing in the binds again as your breathing picked up. He grabbed the pen and opened the folder again to write something down.

“Patient suffers from delusions,” He muttered under his breath. “Still volatile.”

“Are you serious? You can’t do this!” He sighed and took off his glasses, then raised his brows as if to say ‘really?’

“The more you cooperate, the easier this will be for you.”

“You’re a fucking psychopath.” You hissed. He stared at you for an uncomfortable amount of time before sighing and putting his glasses back on.

“I think I have all I need from this evaluation. A guard will be by to take you to your cell and give you the medication I’m prescribing to help with your… outbursts.” He said, collecting his things and standing up.

“No!” You yelled, pulling on the restraints so hard that your wrists started to burn. “You can’t fucking do this!” He ignored you as he left the room, two orderlies entering soon after. When they worked on uncuffing you, you started thrashing around, trying to not let them get a good grip on your arms, but two against one and with no muscle? You lost easily.

“Get the fuck off of me!” You screamed, trying to yank yourself out of their grip, but they were unfazed as they dragged you down a few hallways before stopping in front of a door. One of the men opened it and the other threw you inside, making you land on the hard floor with a grunt.

“Change into those before we get back or we’ll do it for you.” One of the orderly said, giving you a smirk before closing and locking the door. You glanced at the pile of clothing on the tiny bed, then looked around the rest of the room. There was a metal toilet right next to the bed, but other than that, it was bare. You sighed and got up, trying to ignore how the tiny room was making you panic a little, and changed into the clothes- cotton underwear, scratchy pants, and a scratchy shirt. Not even any socks. As you sat on the bed, you weren’t sure how much time went by before a nurse opened the door, carrying a small paper cup.

“Take this.” She said, zero emotion in her tone and expression. You eyed the pill in the cup, then looked back up at her. “I’m not going to tell you again.” She sighed.

“Fuck you.” You muttered, looking at the wall.

“Take it or I’m going to have to force you to take it.” You glared at her and she only waited another second before moving forward and grabbing your cheeks to tilt your head back and open your mouth. You panicked and blindly kicked at her legs, making her flinch back.

“Fucking bitch.” She spat, then left, slamming the door behind her. You let out a heavy breath and leaned back against the wall, closing your eyes.

The sound of the door being flung open made you jump and multiple orderlies walked in, one holding a straight jacket. You panicked and fought, but they easily held you down and put it on, tightening the buckles uncomfortably. When someone forced the pill in your mouth, you immediately spit it back out.

“Whatever. Crane can deal with her.” He scoffed, tossing the empty paper cup on the floor and leaving with the other orderlies.

“How are you doing today? I heard you assaulted a nurse and spent your first night in restraints.” He glanced down to the straight jacket binding your arms. “And you refused to take your medication, is that correct?” You stayed silent, glaring at the floor, making him sigh.

“From now on you are only to see me, no other doctors or nurses. I will administer the medication myself, by syringe if I have to, and we will resume our normal sessions.” The last part made your breath catch in your throat. You had been so preoccupied worrying about everything else that was happening, you forgot that’s the whole reason he brought you here.

“Need I remind you that should your poor behavior persist, I will take away your contraceptive privileges, regardless of our daily sessions.”

“Fuck you.” You muttered dejectedly.

“Fine.” You watched out of the corner of your eye as he scribbled something out. “We will continue your treatment until the withdrawal bleeding starts, then resume when it is finished.” Despite the fact that your stomach twisted at the thought, that fear had been replaced by something else- someone else.

“I’m not proud to admit I’ve grown quite impatient so we will start with the experiment before moving on to your treatment.”

“Experiment?” He ignored you and opened the briefcase on his desk. He put on a burlap sack that was made to look like a scarecrow and before you even realized what was happening, a cloud of gas was invading your senses. Your lungs burned as you coughed, heart pounding harder in your chest, hands quickly becoming clammy.

“What was that?” You said through a cough, closing your eyes and trying not to inhale, but the damage was already done. When you opened them again, Dr. Crane was in front of you, hands on the arms of the chair, caging you in. Only this time it wasn’t just the uncomfortable twist in your stomach that you felt. Your heart rate was faster, as was your breathing, and all you could remember was how he was in a similar position as he made your worst fear come true.

“What do you see?” You squeezed your eyes shut again, shrinking back into the chair. “Open your eyes.” He growled and you let out a choked sob as you obeyed. “Good. Now tell me what you see.” He repeated, harsher this time.

“You.” You whispered, gaze rapidly moving between his icy blue eyes.

“No. Tell me what you see.” He enunciated his words condescendingly, quickly becoming impatient with your lack of a proper answer.

“You- I see you.” You cried, making him tilt his head questioningly.

“Who?”

“Dr. Crane.” You whimpered and he moved back slightly.

“You see my face?” You nodded, watching his features blur with unshed tears. “Fascinating.” He said, then pulled back completely. “Though I would’ve liked to study how a fear of a situation would’ve manifested, rather than a fear of an object.” He said, mostly to himself, ignoring your sobbing.

“Was the change because of these specific circumstances or would you have seen anyone who raped you?” You sobbed harder as he mentioned it, vividly picturing that memory. “I’ll have to test that by repeating the incident with someone else.” He muttered, then spoke up as he gave you his full attention. “As of right now though, I gave you a very diluted dose, the effects should wear off soon. Don’t go anywhere.” He said, almost amused by his ‘joke’, then walked to the door and left.

Blinking away tears, you stood on shaky legs and made your way to the door, but the handle was circular, not something you’d be able to just push down without hands. You let out a choked sob and fell to your knees, feeling utterly defeated and hopeless.

Dr. Crane was in front of you suddenly, pushing you back and tearing the cheap fabric of your pants to free your cunt. You whined and tried to back away from him, but he just dug his nails into your thighs and held you still.

“No- not again. Not again- please,” You whimpered. He positioned his cock at your entrance and wasted no time forcing his length in your underprepared hole. You screamed at the burning pain and writhed beneath him, only stopping when you heard the door open and shut. Was someone here to help you? Turning toward the door, you found Dr. Crane examining you. When you turned back to the man between your legs, there was no trace of him, even your pants were fully intact again.

“What did you see?” He asked eagerly and you tried to clear your head enough to figure out what was going on. “Was it me again?” He added impatiently.

“I don’t- What was that? What did you do to me.” You muttered, brain still foggy. The man swiftly walked over to you, then dropped down into a squat to be at your eye level. When you started trying to move backwards, he just grabbed your ankle and yanked you toward him, making you land on your back.

“Tell me what you saw.” You just stared at him, confused and scared. He grabbed a buckle on the straight jacket and lifted you up to a sitting position. “Now.” Swallowing the lump in your throat, you tried to answer him so he wouldn’t get mad.

“Y-you.”

“What was I doing? Why were you on the floor?”

“You- you were…” You trailed off into a choked sob, not wanting to say it let alone think about it.

“Tell me.”

“You tore my- my pants and-“ You whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut and shaking your head.

“Did I rape you? Is that what you saw?” You nodded with a silent sob and he released the straight jacket. “Interesting. So it’s not only me specifically.” You watched him walk over to his desk, scribbling something down. As you sniffled, you could feel your heart rate and breathing slow down drastically.

“And you had no hallucination of being pregnant or giving birth?” He asked, actually talking to you this time. You shook your head in response and he wrote something again before moving toward you. You flinched back as he reached for you, but he managed to grab you and pull you to your feet anyway. He escorted you to the chair you were previously in and pushed you down, then sat in his desk chair.

“We will resume the experiment after your first treatment when you’re not on birth control. I have a feeling your hallucinations will be centered around that instead.” He said, still writing before looking back up at you. “Was that all you saw or was there something else?”

“That was it.” You said quietly.

“Next time I’m going to give you a higher dose so it lasts longer.”

“What did you give me?” You croaked.

“A very diluted version of my fear toxin.”

“Fear toxin?” You said quietly and he gave you a small smile.

“Yes. I use it in my experiments.”

“I don’t wanna do it again.” You whimpered, not looking at him.

“Unfortunately you don’t have a choice, but you should be grateful. I don’t plan on giving you as much as the other patients. I need you sane enough for our normal sessions.” You didn’t feel grateful. You felt sick to your stomach.

“From now on we will do the experiment, then your treatment, because I have a feeling everytime I watch you under the influence of my toxin, I’m going to get as hard as I did today.” You stifled a gasp as he stood up to walk toward you, his bulge now very obvious. He grabbed the straight jacket again and moved you from the chair to your knees on the floor. You stared blankly as he unbuttoned his pants, then took his cock out.

“If I even feel the slightest brush of your teeth, I’ll take you to one of our medical rooms, tie your legs to the gynecological examination chair, and accidentally leave the door unlocked. If a few guards happen to come in… I won't be there to stop them. Do you understand?” You nodded silently, staring up at him with wide, fearful eyes. “Good.”

He brushed his fingers through your hair, then tightened his grip, holding you still. You tentatively opened your mouth and he slowly slid inside, not stopping until he met the resistance of your throat. He started a slow pace of thrusting in and out, holding your head still and only moving his hips. When he let out a low groan, you looked up at him through your lashes.

“Good girl. Suck it- Use your tongue.” You obeyed, pressing your tongue against the under side of his cock and hallowing your cheeks. “Oh fuck- just like that, good girl.” He said through a moan.

He suddenly pulled out, giving you a chance to catch your breath, which you took eagerly. After a moment, you took a deep breath and opened your mouth, waiting. He gave you a proud smile as he slipped back inside, starting a slightly faster pace. He built you up to it, letting you get used to the speed before increasing it just a little more.

“God- you’re so good at this. Feels almost as good as your pussy.” He whined, losing control over the motions of his hips. He snapped into you faster, ignoring the way you started to choke. When he pulled your head down his length, he let out a choked groan. The lack of oxygen made you panic and writhe beneath him, but he ignored it. He kept pulling you closer until the barrier of your throat gave in and your lips were at the base of his cock. You wanted to claw at his thighs, push him away- anything. But you couldn’t because of the straight jacket.

When he let you pull off, you coughed violently, trying to move away from him despite his grip on your hair.

“Open.” He said sternly, making you whine and keep trying to back up. He stared at you a moment, then sighed and let you go. He walked over to his desk, picked something up, then walked back to you. “You can open or we can continue the experiment, this time with a significantly higher dose.” You recognized now that what he picked up was what he sprayed you with earlier.

His threat worked though and you let your mouth fall open, nervously eyeing his hand that was still inches from your face. His free hand grabbed your hair again, holding you still as he resumed fucking your face. Your gaze anxiously moved between his eyes and his hand, until a particularly rough thrust made you gag and squeeze your eyes shut. Despite that, you forced yourself not to try and pull away, but the longer you choked and couldn’t breathe, the harder that became. When he eventually yanked you off of him, you panted heavily, looking up at him through blurry eyes.

“I’m sorry- I’m sorry. I’m trying,” You rasped, trying subconsciously to move away from the toxin still pointed at your face.

“Do better.” He spat, putting his length back in your mouth before you could respond. His pace turned brutal, fucking you so hard that you knew the back of your mouth was going to bruise. As he fucked you, his moans got louder until he buried his cock deep in your throat again. You thought he was going to come, but he just held it there until the tears in your eyes fell down your cheeks. Only after you started thrashing, desperate for air, did he yank you off his length, letting go of your hair. You coughed and sputtered, taking in heavy breaths, trying to get more oxygen.

“Get up.” Not meeting his gaze, you stood on shaky legs, waiting for the next command. But he just turned you around and pushed you toward the desk, then slammed your torso down on it. You landed with a wince and turned your head to the side, watching him place the canister in your eyeline. Your arms were squished uncomfortably beneath you, but that was the least of your worries as you felt him slowly drag your pants down your legs. You let out a quiet sob as he pulled your underwear down, then groped your ass, pulling your cheeks apart. His breath fanned your ass as he released a dark chuckle.

“Look at that. So wet and I haven’t even touched you.” He swiped his fingers through your slit, groaning at the sight of your arousal. “I won’t take long so I’m not going to bother preparing you any further.” You stiffened as the head of his cock swiped through your folds, moving down to your clit, then back up to your hole. He pushed in slowly, letting out a low groan as he savored the feeling of your walls practically sucking him in. Placing both hands on your hips, he pushed forward until his thighs were flush with your ass. He cursed under his breath and gave you a moment to adjust as you trembled beneath him.

It hurt. More than last time. Presumably because you’re still sore from last time, but also because he didn’t do anything to prep you this time. You could feel tears growing in your eyes and you willed them down, not wanting to feel even more pathetic and weak than you already do. When he slowly pulled out, then slammed back in, you let out a hoarse scream.

“You’re hurting me.” You cried, trying to lift yourself up, but he placed a hand on your back and shoved you back down. “Please, Dr. Crane- you’re hurting me!” His pace sped up significantly as he chased his orgasm.

“Keep begging like that.” He moaned. Placing both hands on your shoulders for a better grip, he started pounding your hole agonizingly hard, using his grip to pull you back on his cock with each thrust.

You realized that you found yourself wishing he would just come already. You didn’t even think about the consequences, you just wanted him to stop. Maybe he really is helping you get over your fears after all.

You could tell he was getting close as his thrusts turned frenzied and his moans got louder, so you stayed silent, not wanting to accidentally do something to make him drag it out. He didn’t give you a warning before pulling your body closer, impaling you deep on his cock. His hips still pushed forward, trying to bury his length deeper in your aching hole. While part of you wanted to scream and cry, another part was starting to associate his orgasms with relief from the pain of him fucking you.

His sounds died off until all you could hear was him panting. He pulled out slowly, then immediately pulled your underwear back up so his come wouldn’t drip out.

You laid there, exhausted emotionally and physically, as he pulled your pants back up, then righted his own pants. Lifting you by the collar of the straight jacket, he moved you back to your chair, then sat down on his own.

“I’m going to give you something that should make tomorrow's treatment a bit easier on you. Unfortunately that means you’ll have to keep that on so you don’t interfere with anything.” He motioned to the straight jacket and you furrowed your brows, not understanding what he meant.

“However, that does mean you won’t have to take the other medication today. It shouldn't affect the drug I’m giving you, but since you haven’t started taking it yet, you might as well wait one more day.” He explained, then pushed a button on the phone on his desk and leaned into the speaker. “Bring in what I prepared for patient 23250.” He said, then released the button on the phone, giving you his full attention. “I will give you one last chance. Don’t fight this and you can continue taking your birth control.” The door opened and a man walked in, carrying a syringe. Dr. Crane got up to take it from him, then stood next to you.

“Thank you. Wait by the door.” He said to the orderly, who nodded and stepped back. “Well?” He asked, leaning down to look at you. You eyed the syringe nervously. He’s going to give it to you whether you fight or not…

“Okay.” You said quietly, then reluctantly barred your neck to him.

“Good girl.” He said, then walked back to his desk to retrieve it- He already had it ready? He didn’t offer you any water so you had to dry swallow it. The second you were done, he was taking your cheeks in his hand and turning your head to the side. You winced as the needle pierced your skin, but he finished quickly.

“Take her to isolation and remove the bed. No one is to see her but me. Bring her back here at 8 am tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir.” The man said, walking over, then lifting you to your feet by the straight jacket. You were all but dragged down the hallways until he opened a door and shoved you inside, making you land on the floor with a grunt. At least the floor was padded this time. He walked in and grabbed the “bed” from the corner of the room before exiting.

“Good luck.” He snickered, then closed the door, the lock clicking loudly in the otherwise silent room. You sat up and eyed the small space. It was just white padding and a single light overhead. Nothing else. You sighed and decided to lie down, it seemed like it was almost night anyway so you might as well try to sleep.

As you laid there, desperately trying to sleep under the bright luminescent, you suddenly felt your whole body break out in a sweat. Your skin grew warm and flushed- then you felt it. The unmistakable feeling of arousal pooling in your stomach, traveling down to between your legs. You tried to just breathe calmly and let it pass, but it wouldn’t. It just got worse.

Writhing on the floor, you tried to find a way to stimulate your clit besides rubbing your thighs together- no wonder he took the bed. You sat up and crossed your legs, trying to grind on your heel. It was barely an improvement. Letting out a long, needy whine, you pulled on the straight jacket, trying to free your arms. When you were unsuccessful, you let out a choked sob, looking around the room. The padding on the door got rid of the edge so it was just a normal wall. There was literally nothing you could use. The realization brought tears to your eyes, so you laid back down and tried to will it away, even though it was only getting stronger.

Part 3

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