Independent OC Jonathan Crane / Scarecrow of Batman Series
Written by Danna
Rules / About
Claire Keane

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
RMH
occasionally subtle
ojovivo

#extradirty

izzy's playlists!
Sade Olutola
Misplaced Lens Cap
trying on a metaphor
NASA
h

JBB: An Artblog!

Andulka
hello vonnie
Show & Tell


seen from Canada
seen from Australia
seen from Canada
seen from United States
seen from India
seen from Malaysia
seen from Malaysia

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Greece

seen from Sweden

seen from Canada

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Canada

seen from Türkiye
seen from India
seen from Canada
seen from India
@iambecomefear
Independent OC Jonathan Crane / Scarecrow of Batman Series
Written by Danna
Rules / About

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
whack
Jonathan Crane
@umbralrosa from here.
"We'd have to be friends in order to be called that, I'd imagine," he bit. "Not that I care about modern slang and whatever other garbage these children prattle on about. And neither should you." Jonathan wagged his finger at her like a scolding teacher.
"No, you're more like a sore or a wart that irritates and refuses to go away." Nevermind the fact he'd come to find her this time. Before that could be used against him, he jumped the gun and bit the bullet. "I thought my days were going too smoothly so I decided it was time to ruin them with your presence again."
asher is being held as captive by scarecrow
𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄'𝐒 𝐍𝐎 𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐏 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐋𝐄. like a newborn fawn trying to learn how to walk. eyes stuck looking through the darkness for a sign of someone. anyone. he only remembers a moment of slight prick against his neck and waking up now. in between all that was only darkness. really, even what he was doing before was a mystery. finding absolutely no memory no matter how far he digs into his mind. as if it were blocked.
body so on edge that an opening of a door causes his body to jump, and said jump is very noticeable. brown eyes immediately looking at the figure that emerges. ( @iambecomefear ) asher tries to stand, but he now noticed his feet are shackled to the floor. his wrist bound together behind him. stuck in some sort of sitting position on the ground.
❝ E - Excuse me. . . ❞ words barely come out through his trembling body. ❝ I. . . I don't know what I did to land me here. B - But I'm sorry if I did s - something to make you upset. I can try to make it up to you! Pr - promise! ❞
Oh god. It's intoxicating. Scarecrow claws hungry at the door to his mind, oh so eager for his meal. For his devouring of the boy and all the delicious fear he had been marinating in. Jonathan, too, enjoyed the terror the boy was presenting. He enjoyed the power of superiority. He enjoyed feeling stronger. Better. Above. In complete and utter control. It made him giddy. Despite his best to present an aura of professionalism, like a doctor to a patient, it was clear on his face though the mask he was wearing of himself. Twitching lips. Curling icy eyes, glittering with delight. He almost looked like a child. And like that, it was gone as if it had never existed. Flat affect for a flat expression.
"That's enough," he silenced. Jonathan's voice was clinical and cold. He reaches into the darkness and carries with him a chair, then sets it down before the boy. Sitting down, his hands fold on his lap over crossed legs. The light above bounces off of his glasses making his eyes difficult to see. "Before we begin, tell me. Why do you think you're here?"

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Oh what the hell. The gas canister rolls to edge of his shoe like some sort of backwoods trashy kickball. That wasen't how this game was supposed to be played. Screaming. Crying. Tears. Begging. Pissing. Something. This was abnormal. This was wrong. He tilted his head, the gas surrounding his form, and kicked it back again.
Perhaps he should just leave this one alone. Ah, but ego was sharp and hungry. Stay, it said. Stay and feed. Just wait and see. It'll work this time.
So what was the game here? With this fucked up game of kick the can was she supposed to be afraid of whatever this dollar store Oz Halloween decoration was peddling? Alright-- Fine. She flicks her cigarette away, fairly aggressively-- And gives it the old kickball special. Dead-eye aim hedging it squarely towards his chest this time.
Though Scarecrow may have thought of himself as a strong and mighty being, he was confined to the very fragile, and poorly coordinated body of picked-last-for-everything Jonathan Crane. While it didn't break his equipment, it shattered his pride quite well to be sent to his knees by his own canister. Wheezing like an old man on life-support, Crow summoned a plethora of vile and evil curses down from the heavens to plague and ruin this vile woman. Alas, this was the real world and not the one of his own making, so, as per usual, god pretended he didn't exist.
With a furious growl, he drew to his feet and nearly forward, but thought better of it. He wanted to stab her in the throat for what she'd done, but a beating wasn't what he was looking for. If she could kick the cannister like that, he didn't have to guess her skills.
"Why isn't it working?" he hissed lowly, slinking back. "Another freak for the city then?"
Even for what little had been around her, it would have been more than enough. It was like it didn't even touch her. He wasen't seeing things. Scarecrow was left with only the option of retreat on the table. How humiliating.
He'd been in the middle of a very scary (trust me) monologue when she'd interrupted him and promptly took the wind out of his dramatic sails. Fine then. Something was tossed at her feet that rapidly erupted into a cloud of noxious chartreuse gas.
Okay, all of that might have worked for anyone else. And she's sure her enjoying a night out with her little inner circle might have seemed like your typical organized crime affair-- Gaze locks itself down at the canister, peeping at it from behind the dark shade of her glasses, taking another harsh drag from her cigarette. She doesn't pay him too much mind when she takes the moment in unceremoniously kicking it back, all of the gas very mysteriously avoiding her.
Oh what the hell. The gas canister rolls to edge of his shoe like some sort of backwoods trashy kickball. That wasen't how this game was supposed to be played. Screaming. Crying. Tears. Begging. Pissing. Something. This was abnormal. This was wrong. He tilted his head, the gas surrounding his form, and kicked it back again.
Perhaps he should just leave this one alone. Ah, but ego was sharp and hungry. Stay, it said. Stay and feed. Just wait and see. It'll work this time.
Criss Angel?
Eat your f&^%ing heart out.
"--I'll be honest, I'm not really listening anymore."
He'd been in the middle of a very scary (trust me) monologue when she'd interrupted him and promptly took the wind out of his dramatic sails. Fine then. Something was tossed at her feet that rapidly erupted into a cloud of noxious chartreuse gas.
i'm being BULLIED
Oh dear. You're acting horribly irrational. Perhaps a sedative would be best.

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Scarecrow week
Day 4: The Psychology of the Syringe
A quick one for today because I have guests coming over soon and still need to bake a pumpkin pie.
I hate symmetrical stuff with a burning passion
I ended up making this sketch as art therapy for working through my fear about my upcoming medical procedures/surgeries and I actually ended up feeling pretty proud of it, so I hope it's ok that I share it here. Moderately Zelda related. It's Scarecrow with a bit of a Skullkid style-twist.
No idea why, but when I get freaked out I sometimes start using Scarecrow as an avatar of exploring why i'm afraid and trying to work through it. lol, yet another toxic fave. I don't know why my brain works like this.