Demise of the Master of Fear Chap43-endA week later, the villains met at Jervis and Alice's lair for the girl's birthday.
A table had been moved in the main room for the occasion; the blonde had asked to have a tea party for her sixteenth birthday, which the Hatter had agreed to joyfully.
Alice, Becky and Jonathan were sitting on one side of the table, while Jervis and Edward opposite of them. They originally didn't plan to invite the Riddler, but the man had demanded to come. He had already been very disappointed when he learned that the girls had organized a break out without him; he just couldn't accept not being invited to the birthday.
After eating some cake and drinking a lot of tea came the time to open the gifts.
Jervis handed one to her; it was wrapped in purple paper.
"Harley sent a goon with this. She apologized for not being able to join, she said the Joker had planned a robbery today."
The blonde took the gift with a smile. She ripped the paper carefully, and opened the box.
"A gun!" she exclaimed excitedly. Li
Demise of the Master of Fear Chap1DISCLAIMER : this is my very first fanfic. EVER. Meaning it can contain mistakes. I would very much appreciate feedback. Even if you comment only to tell me there's a grammar mistake somewhere, or to tell me a character is OOC, it would be very useful.Demise of the Master of Fear Chap13 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
The main characters will be Jonathan Crane (the Scarecrow) and Becky Albright. The first chapter contains also the Joker and the Riddler. I might include the Mad Hatter at some point, if the story allows it. (I have no idea where this is going yet)
Batman and all related characters belong to the wonderful and amazing DC Comics. I'm only a fan that wished she owned them
The Scarecrow, great Master of Fear, had an equally great enemy. A young woman, Becky Albright. Their first encounter made the poor child face her deepest fear : people. She screamed, quaked and trembled at the feet of the Scarecrow; he broke her mind. If such a torture wasn't enough, the criminal had to become infatuated with her as well; not the nice kind of inf
The Crooked ManGranny Keeny had been a cruel woman, frail in body and hard in heart. Her temper was volatile and explosive, and Jonathan Crane had learned early in life that her anger was something to be avoided at all costs. The best way to do that was to remain out of her sight as much as possible, and so he spent his time outside of school hiding out in his room inside of Keeny Mansion, hunched over a book. He was content enough with this arrangement, accompanied by the likes of Poe, Kipling, and Shelley. His past time had to be kept secret, of course—Granny Keeny did not approve of such unholy vices as fiction and creative writing.The Crooked Man3 years ago in Horror More Like This
The exemption to this rule was nursery tales. Crane suspected that this was because so many stories featured misbehaving individuals gaining their comeuppance, often in a rather unpleasant manner. From the ages of two to ten, Granny Keeny would perform a nightly ritual of reading to Crane a story from a large, leather-bound book titled Nursery Tales.
Scarecrow-the shadows on the wallScarecrow-the shadows on the wall4 years ago in Drama More Like This
The shadows on the wall
It was a rainy Wednesday, I remember it very well, I had been informed about a new doctor who asked explicitly to be my psychologist, and of course, Dr. Wilson had no objection, he had reluctantly taken my case because nobody else wanted it, and you can say I was not what we Doctors call "cooperative". But for some reason this doctor wanted it, it took me on surprise, I imagined he'll be one of those old and cheap, egomaniac copies of Freud that are more like "fraud".
My God I was so wrong! I was watching the rain throw the window and then I saw Dr. Effie Jequille, She sat on the chair in front of the desk as she stretched out her hand and said:
-Good Morning, I am Dr. Jequille
I shook her hand and, as I saw she kept looking at me I said
-You know who I am
-No, I know that your birth name is Jonathan Crane and you call yourself the scarecrow, but I don't know who you are. Who are you Dr. Crane? Who are you, Scarecrow?
-I'm a man who don't answe
An Unlikely EncounterAn Unlikely EncounterAn Unlikely Encounter5 years ago in Profiles More Like This
It was hot.
It was really hot.
I woke up this morning, my hair sticking to my face, my body trapped in a cocoon of bed sheets I'd created in my sleep.
I could hear sirens blaring in the distance, the sound of angry caffeine-deprived drivers shouting obscenities greeted me; Just another annoying day in Gotham City.
I spared a glance at the clock. Sigh, I'm late again.
I wonder if today I can manage to find the energy to care. . .
Didn't think so.
It took me ten more minutes of coaxing my body to move for me to succeed in getting out of bed.
"Hey Katherine! You want an omelette or some pancakes?" called my roommate, Roxanne from the kitchen. God bless that woman.
"How about both?" I yelled back, sleep evident in my voice.
I crawled to the bathroom to take a shower, removing an article of clothing with every step. I avoided looking in the mirror as I always do. No need to work myself up this early in my routine.
I adjusted the temperature of the water to how I liked
Group Therapy"Alright everybody, quiet, please—quiet—now, let's begin..."Group Therapy2 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Group therapy at Arkham Asylum was by no means a simple, uneventful affair. The hour-long sessions required no less than ten guards, each one equipped with an electric baton and a canister of mace, and covered head to toe in riot gear. No sharp objects were allowed in the room—no pencils, no pens. Crayons had previously been approved for use in art therapy, but after Joker drove a waxy stick of Tickle Me Pink into a therapist's eye the privilege had been revoked.
Finger-painting had been the next logical step and had lasted for precisely two sessions before Joker—who else—began to paint obscene drawings of Batman onto the walls with his fingertips, depicting the Dark Knight's demise in a variety of imaginative and colorful ways. The therapist at the time had encouraged this behavior, assuring the guards that the act was not one of defiance, but of expression and an eagerness to work thro
The Dance of the CraneChapter 1The Dance of the Crane2 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Jonathan Crane mused on that name, reading a book on psychology in his cell at Arkham Asylum.
He flipped to the next page, his eyebrows furrowed in thought as he tried to concentrate, but despite everything he did, that name just kept coming back.
Stifling a soft growl, he slammed the book down, startling his cellmate, Jervis Tetch, who had just been asleep on the top cot."~Curiouser and Curiouser~" he mumbled, rubbing his eyes as he looked down at his cellmate. The Scarecrow paced the cell, grumbling under his breath. "~You're thinking about something, and it makes you forget to talk.~"
Crane stopped his pacing, glaring up at the blonde man. "It's none of your business, Tetch," he snapped, his thoughts of the girl seemingly badgering at his mind.
The Hatter continued to stare, and Crane began to find this quite annoying, knowing that he wouldn't stop until he got an answer out of him. He
Pots and Kettles (Nine)NINE:Pots and Kettles (Nine)3 years ago in Drama More Like This
"Yes," hissed the Scarecrow. Nigma began to struggle feebly, trying to pull away and tumbling down off the sofa in his efforts, but Jonathan's grip held.
"Please don't," the ginger begged, eyes wide and desperate as he stared up at the Scarecrow, "Please don't, I can't--"
The pathetic plea disappeared in a yelp of pain as the needle plunged into his neck.
There were a few seconds of panting silence as the drug worked into his system. Then Nigma's pupils contracted to pinpricks as his eyes glazed over, his pale face twisted suddenly in an expression of terror and anguish.
Scarecrow retreated to the dented folding chair a yard or so back to watch the show.
"N-no," came the tremulous whisper, "No, it's not possible..." Great tears began to form in Nigma's distant eyes. "No, no, please, no, oh god..."
Scarecrow watched, intri
Follow you into the dark (Jonathan Crane x Reader)Follow you into the dark (Jonathan Crane x Reader)9 months ago in General Fiction More Like This
A soft, cold wind tugged your [hair color] hair while you were waiting outside the courthouse of Gotham city. It had gotten dark very quickly and you closed your coat further around you. You didn’t like the lingering stares of the men that past you. Their hungry looks made you feel uneasy and send shivers down your spine.
You had been waiting for over half an hour now and you looked on your watch to see what time it was. When you had almost given up, the person you wanted to speak to walked out of the courthouse and made his way down the large steps. His brown hair framed his face and a mischievous smile curled his lips.
‘Doctor Crane, do you have a minute?’ You took out your recording device and shoved it under his nose. ‘My name is [Name] [Last Name]. I work for The Gotham Times and I have a few questions about the Arkham Asylum where you work.’
Crane laughed softly, looking into your eyes. ‘I would love to answer any questions you might have, miss