“Rarity indeed. And yet, we keep searching, don’t we? Foolish as it may be. Even fear grows lonely in the dark.”

// My fault. Crane is feeling vulnerable tonight. Don't mind him.

"Tell me Mr. Cobblepot. .how do you soothe such a condition?"

// This will expire once I go night night.

𝓔ternal.

Not in the mood for long replies. I did three hours of studying today, my mind is cooked. Feel free to send an interaction. Thanks.

“Strange, isn’t it? How the human mind can crave connection, even when it knows better.”

Gotham’s king of ice to wander into my office.” Setting his pen aside, he leaned back slightly in his chair, studying him like a specimen under glass.

@kingofgotham.bsky.social

The office was dim, the air tinged with coffee and the faint musk of old paper. Jonathan Crane glanced up from his desk as the door opened, his expression unreadable behind his glasses.

“Mr. Cobblepot,” he greeted, voice smooth, measured. “I can’t say I expected +

// I have a problem. 🫠

// good to know

he whispered, voice sharp as a scalpel, “how long before your courage screams.”

life, dragging the gas toward her. In a blur he closed the distance, coat snapping behind him.

Before Dinah could reach for another weapon, Crane’s hand was at her throat, gloved fingers pressing just enough to lift her chin. The hollow eyes of his mask glinted inches from hers.

“Let’s see,” +

The grenade hit his mask with a dull thunk, then hissed, flooding the air with burning vapor. Crane staggered back only for a heartbeat, then straightened through the haze, laughter rasping low in his throat.

“Clever girl.”

His hand snapped to the console, one press, and the vents screamed to +

“A haunted house?” he echoed softly. “I suppose you’re right, most people pay good money to be frightened.”

He let the silence stretch, savoring it. “But I prefer my work to be educational.” His gaze drifted over her, sharp as a scalpel. “And you, Miss Prince, seem like a very stubborn student.”

intimate than that.”

His gloved fingers brushed a vial on the nearby table, the glass whispering against latex. “But I do admire your confidence. It makes the breaking point so much more. . . rewarding.”

Crane’s head tilted, just slightly, like a crow studying something it couldn’t quite decide to admire or dissect. The faintest smirk ghosted across his lips.

“Oh, I’m not trying to intimidate you, Miss Prince,” he murmured, circling her with deliberate slowness. “Fear is far more. . . +

// Thank you! Very much appreciated! 🖤

Scarecrow turned, eyes catching the dim glow, cold, fascinated. “But then,” he murmured, stepping closer, “you were never one to fear the dark, were you?”

@songbirdcanary.bsky.social

The lab reeked of fear, chemical, metallic, sharp. Crane had always called it the most honest scent a person could wear. Beneath the flicker of a lone light, he adjusted his mask, voice calm and clinical.

“You shouldn’t have come here, Miss Prince.”

The +

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The air smelled of antiseptic and straw, a sterile kind of decay. Papers cluttered the desk, brain diagrams marked with spidery notes. In the dim light, Dr. Jonathan Crane adjusted his gloves as thunder murmured outside and a patient screamed somewhere in the dark.

• I'm a university student studying English literature so patience is very much appreciated.

• I'm 25 years old and my pronouns are she/her.

• I'm not comfortable with writing smut.

• DMs are always open for plotting and OOC talking.

❝ Would you like to see my mask? ❞

• A literate and descriptive portrayal of Jonathan Crane/Scarecrow.

• (Multi) ship w chemistry. Bisexual.

• Multiverse and OC friendly.

• Heart and retweet to spread the world.

( More information below! )