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You know what I’ve realised?
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Listen to me. Jonathan Crane was constantly tormented for his looks as a child and i don’t think it’s a stretch to believe that, if he were a person of color, that would fuel the bullying especially considering he grew up in a conservative Georgia town. It makes sense to me, as a woman of color who went through a very similar experience of alienation, that my hc that he’s mixed Indigenous Colombian-Ecuadorian fits the canon lore.

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“Don’t touch me!”

I’m having hella anxiety right now so take this angsty Jonathan sketch

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Hey Scarecrow fans, I make art for a living and wanted to know..

If I made a Scarecrow keychain of some kind, would y’all buy it? Also any suggestions on WHAT to put in a keychain would be helpful. Thanks, guys. :3

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When Damian is inflicted with fear toxin, he sees nothing. And I’m not talking about ‘the entirety of everything that is and is not, the creation of the universe, the nothing that came before’. I’m talking about absolutely nothing

It’s the first time Damian has faced the Scarecrow. He is with Batman, Red Hood, Batgirl. Red Robin, Nightwing. Damian knows about the fear toxin, just what he’s been told.

The Scarecrow is in front of him, laughing. His head is tilted slightly. There are people behind him, civilians. He’s holding an air horn, raised up high. It’s the both of them, at that moment. Robin and the Scarecrow, eye to eye. Damian does not know what he’s doing, what he’s waiting for. Fear? He knows it’s not.

It’s from the sides, it’s always from the sides. Where they think that it’s never seen coming. Damian knew that the toxin would be released from the sides the second Scarecrow blew the air horn. Damian reached for his sword, fog filled the view. He was wearing the mask he was given, the mask was protecting his eyes, yet the fog is still blurring what he could see. He ran to the crowd, those that stood blandly behind the scarecrow seconds before. 

He hears it, screaming. He stops abruptly, he recognizes a few of the screams. He whips his head around, it’s Nightwing, Batgirl, Red Robin, the ones he arrived with. The toxin used must have been a new one.
 He hears laughing, too. Coming from the above, where the scarecrow now stands. Damian wonders how he got up there so fast.  

The crowd that once was is sparse now, Damian is speechless. So many people, so much fear. They’re yelling incoherently, they’re begging for help. Some are screaming for an unknown being to stop what they’re doing, to stop hurting them. Some are on the ground, what they must have seen would have been too much to bear. 

Damian turns to his family, he sees them. They’re looking for each other, they’re screaming for help. The anti-toxin they used must have been holding up, still. Dick is looking for Damian, reaching out frantically. He doesn’t understand, Nightwing is just a few meters in front of him. Why would he be reaching to him? 

Nightwing reaches to him, finds him, grasping his arm. He’s gasping, in relief, maybe. Tries to hug Damian, but it’s sloppy, yet careful. 

Dick is looking straight, not at Damian. Maybe if his mask were off, Damian would only see the white of his eyes. 

“H-how?” Dick breathes out, his voice shakes. 

“How what?” Damian asks back, he realizes his own voice is shaking as well. But he couldn’t take his eyes off the civilians from the crowd. He keeps looking back and forth between his family and the rest. 

Dick ignores him, his head is still directed straight ahead, yet he’s grabbing Damian by the shoulders. “We didn’t…” He trails off. “How?” 

How what? Damian wants to ask. But he knows the answer, he’s been asking himself so all along, since the scarecrow blew the air horn. 

“How are you… We had forgotten to give you the anti… the anti-toxin.” His voice shook even more, he was struggling to get any words out, Damian knew this. 

“How are you… How are you okay?”

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LEGO: *straw noises of happiness* THAMKS I WUVE U TOO!

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You know what I love about Jonathan Cane? The fact that his childhood is so relatable. Don’t get me wrong it would be weird if I related to his villainous efforts but his past of being bullied and abused by his family?

Yeah, that can hit home hard.

I don’t know one person who wasn’t been bullied, in fact most of my friends dealt with excessive bullying for being “different” and “weird” in comparison to their peers. I think we all can understand the pain Jonathan underwent.

In fact, there’s flashbacks in multiple comics of kids mocking and throwing actual rocks at Jonathan as he runs away crying. It’s horrible.

We can all relate to that. And I think for that reason, so many people like Jonathan Crane. He’s a glimpse into a darker future, a what if, a chance to strike back upon those who wronged us.

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Edward and Jonathan are a near equal match at dominoes because while Edward is better from a pure math standpoint, Jonathan can easily tell when he’s unable to place high-value tiles and is able to plan accordingly

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AK: Oh Edward for certain, but I do wonder what Harley, Firefly and Deadshot would see under the effects of my toxin. Perhaps that Valentin would be intriguing to witness.

Badgerverse: Edward. He exhibits the classic fear of failure (atychipobia) and I’m greatly interested to see how exactly that would manifest for him on FT. If only he stayed in one spot. That megalomaniac is always bouncin around Gotham and the surroundin cities. Any information about his whereabouts is always outta of date.

New52: Does all of them count?

MoF: I prefer experimenting on Gothamites rather than my fellow Rogues. Makes for strained business relationships with others and would leave me vulnerable to attack. However, I would take the option to gas Joker if the opportunity ever came along. 

NW!Rebirth: Any excluding Jervis and Harley. They are completely off limits. Possibly on a good day Edward would be spared as well. Any other Rogue is fair game to me. 

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In a kinder version of the DC Universe:

A security guard doesn’t quit his job at a chemical plant to become a stand-up comedian. He notices the frayed wire on a baby bottle warmer, saving his wife and unborn child from being accidentally electrocuted. No one ever falls into a vat of chemicals on his watch.

A carnival worker named Edward Nygma decides to follow his dreams of being in the spotlights, and becomes host of a popular game show; “Riddle Me This”. He’s always excited when he gets to go head to head with the contestants in the lightning round.

Oswald Cobblepott, a boy born deformed, finds solace in studying zoology, eventually falling in love with arctic birds. He ends up getting his doctorate and mounting dozens of expeditions to both the north and south poles. The world’s knowledge of penguins increases tenfold.

A cryogenicist named Victor Friez succeeds in freezing and curing his beloved wife. After her recovery he shares his discoveries with the world, saving millions.

Harvey Dent flipped a coin to decide his fate when he realized his own mental illness. It came up heads, and he sought appropriate therapy. He’s now serving his fifteenth term as Gotham’s district attorney, with a focus on rehabiliting criminals. Gotham’s recidivism rate is among the lowest in the country.

Doctor Pamela Isely is a world famous naturalist and conservationist. He work with genetically engineered crops have dramatically reduced world hunger. She spends her nights with her wife-

-Doctor Harleen Quinzel; head psychologist at Arkham Mental Health Clinic. She does a lot of work with counseling convicted criminals, and all of her patients always smile when they see her.

Selena Kyle worked her way up from the streets to become a highly regarded insurance investigator. She spends her days recovering lost valuables and returning them to their rightful owners.

Professor Jonathan Crane teaches psychology at Gotham University. Being bullied as a child taught him fear, but finally standing up to his bullies taught him the power of overcoming fear. Whenever any of the students or faculty show even the slightest hint of anxiety or worry he’s always there with a warm cup of herbal tea and one of his favorite books to read passages from.

It might be true that all it takes is one bad day to drive an ordinary person insane. It’s a half decent cautionary tale, but the reverse can also be true. Without that one bad day a person could be saved, and there’s no telling the amount of good they could bring into the world as a result.

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12. Tell us about a WIP you’re excited about.

I’m very excited for the Riddler chapter of my ‘Gotham Rogues reimagined as demonic entities sent to Gotham to punish the wicked within the city’ fic. Using The Master and Margarita as my inspiration is incredibly fun and gives me a lot of joy as it love it so much.

My Crane chapter explored the inequality and brutality of Gotham as viewed through the eyes of an innocent who had the misfortune of being victim to this wrath. Crane is a demon of true terror who exists to bring fear to those who would misuse it to harm others. He is merciless but bound by the rules of his purpose.

In contrast, my Nygma chapter focuses on the violence of greed and selfishness. The vibe here is chaotic as Nygma sweeps in with pure energy; twisting the words and actions of both others and himself in such a way that anyone who encounters him is left thinking he is a mad fool. At least until they realise that they have been tricked into consequence and must now suffer the punishments for their evils.

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Jonathan: Can you two not Riddler this heist?

Edward, beside Jervis: Did you just use my NAME as a VERB???

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Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8 Part 1, Chapter 8 Part 2, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19

FYI: This story is also being posted under the same title on Wattpad. If you find that reading experience more comfortable, feel free to head over there.

The funeral was small, only a few close friends, excluding great-uncle Charles Fredrickson and the eternally lovely Maria whom saw fit to wear a new black dress, her stoid visage lightly obscured through the thin, tender fabric of the traditional black veil descending from the brim of her matching sun hat.

Weeks before, reposed upon the hotel bed, she had reached across the nightstand, dialing the local police upon the rusty telephone possibly older than herself, reporting that she saw what she thought was a fire. Someone was sent to the former house, finding only the crumbled ruins surrounding the unrecognizably blackened husk of a body, burned through to the bone. She’d been called in to identify the remains, which she did, providing some shabby excuse regarding the pajama pants he wore or something or other, but it was enough, combined with the slight aspects of other evidence. Williamson, whose body sat buried in the hidden basement, had simply been pronounced missing. The presence of his police cruiser parked nearby sparked some questions, but that was nothing Maria couldn’t handle. There followed a brief investigation of the fire, yet at the scene of the crime was found nothing more than the blackened husk of a gas can, melted free of incriminating evidence. No true evidence was found to support a theory of murder, but no one really tried.

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