- I don't do NSFW. Angst? Fluff? Comedy? Spooky? whatever else is fine! can't guarantee it'll be good, jk
- Please don't assume I'm also up to date with mangas in the series. So mark spoiler when sending an ask and I'll let you know if I can do it <3
- My DMs and Asks will always be open unless specified it isn't. I hope I can be welcoming to y'all ❤️.
Requesting
- Headcanons, fics, and drabbles are fair game! Just let me know which you prefer (: Just be mindful that I will pump out some quicker than others due to length.
- I might take emergency requests, depending on my availability.
- Reminder NSFW is not for me. Even if you're not asking me to write it, please don't be open about your fantasies to me, thanks <3
- I prefer to do gender-neutral if it's a reader insert since it's easier to reach any audience, so please specify gender.
- Sometimes, even if you follow all the rules, I might not get to your request, sorry ): but please be patient with me <3
Fandoms
- Jujutsu Kaisen
- Death Note
- Bleach
- HxH
- Angels of Death
- Ouran Highschool Host Club
- FMA and FMAB
- Mob Psycho 100
- Demon Slayer
- Spy x Family
- Erased
- Studio Ghibli
- Saiki K
- Lupin III
- Uta no Prince Sama
- DBZ
-Ranking of Kings
- MCU/DC (kind of, I'll let you know if I'm familiar enough with the character to do them justice)
Helloooo, it's halloween! I recently read your Gyutaro fic and adored it. Can you make a dark romance of him meeting his s/o and them thinking he's a god? so instead of being disgusted, they show him lots of respect and they end up falling in love?? Please!!
A/N: Hi anon! I tried my best making this a dark romance without making it overtly dark. I hope you like it!!
I left it open in case people wanted a sequel to it, it was just getting too long lol. Always love fulfilling y'all's requests. More to come!
Word Count: 5.2k (abt a 20 min read)
Warnings: Noncon small kiss and hug.
Seeing children stand outside of brothels was rare in Yoshiwara, especially after dark. It was seen as neglectful, dangerous, and even in a way, tainting to the establishment. That's why you waited for your mother outside in the alleyways, where only the drunks or strays would stumble through. You could stay at home while your mother worked, however, ever since that day the landlord made a certain comment that made momma's skin crawl, you started waiting for her in the street.
It wasn't all that bad. You would sit or lay in a box just your size, your plush in one arm and blanket over or under your body, depending on the temperature outside. Most nights were calm. And you never made a fuss when they weren't, momma was too tired when she left the brothels, you felt it wasn't worth bringing up. Every time she asked how your night went, you'd respond;
-”Quiet! I dreamt of you and grandpa.” The latter having been deceased for a few years now.
She would smile and then help you carry your things home.
However, tonight was different. It was actually the quietest it had ever been, and that was scaring you. No human nor animal had passed by your alley, as if it was cursed.
That's when you smelled it, for the first time. It hit your nostrils harshly, the sting of iron before you knew what it was. Fresh blood.
A few drops landed in front of your box.
And then a head.
You recognized that head. It belonged to a man who many brothels hated to serve, but did nonetheless for he had hefty money to spend each night. You briefly acquainted with him one night he kicked your box by accident. Cursed and spit at it before going on his way.
Before registering what was going on, an enormous figure, tall enough to scrape the rooflines, landed beside the head, picking it up with disgust.
Its voice clawed into your ears as it whined and berated the man's head, a lanky arm stretching to pick it up. You shrank back inside your box, fearful; confused.
That was no mere man; it couldn't be.
His slouched back showed distorted bones sticking out, his waist skeletal, arms long as poles, and his movements otherworldly.
Your seven year old mind concluded he must be a god. Your mother and grandfather were devout humans. They respect all and every god, spirit, and animal. They believed they were all sacred. You never knew what was a god in disguise.
Grandpa said the gods watched over their domains, punishing the wicked or those who brought unbalance.
And hadn't this being killed a wicked man?
He must be the god of Yoshiwara, or perhaps the god of brothels. A good god. A just god.
Then, his gaze found you.
You felt your thoughts interrupted by eyes that burned through the dark and froze your blood.
You quickly scrambles out of your box, throwing off the blanket despite the cold breeze, and kneeled to the ground as flat as you could.
-”God!” Your trembling voice called from the dirt. -"I am sorry for not bowing sooner! I-I didn't know! Grandpa said to always bow but I-:” Your voice trailed off, not finishing your sentence. Your tongue just couldn't move on from those words to let him know you hadn't recognized his divine status, afraid he'd be insulted.
You heard him shift, a grunt accompanying the movements. A fierce gaze studied your coiled up body on the floor, and then, a snicker.
-”Yes.” Its voice slowly groaned in response. -”Bow. I am a god here.” The voice wavered in an inhuman way, a testament that he was not of this world.
You stayed folded into the dirt, until you humbly dared to speak again. -”God, what is your name?”
Wood creeks near you as a heavy weight leans on them. -”Gyutaro. . .. .. God of the Entertainment District's filth.”
You sensed some sort of repugnancy to his tone.
-"T-that's why you killed that bad man? He was filth? Lord Gyutaro?”
-”Ye-…yeess. I kill all filth here.” The god chuckled. “ The weak, pathetic vermin who think money or charm'll save ‘em. It don't!”
You pressed your forehead harder to the ground. -"Am I filth too?” You woefully ask.
-”Huh?!” The god grunts in your direction, as if surprised you were still there and not running for your life.
You feel cold fingers latch around the collar of your kimono, lifting you off the ground and near the god himself. Your eyes quickly close themselves, afraid of divine punishment befalling from a disrespectful gaze.
This actually displeases him. He shakes you, barking orders for you to open your eyes.
You obey, only to be met with orange eyes with a yellow tone angrily looking down on you. The god's face truly matched his divine stewardship. If he ruled over all things pathetic, filthy, and weak, then he sure looked the part.
-"M'lord.” Your gaze soon turned downward. -”You give me permission to look at you?”
He hesitated, his weight shifting, then his nostrils let out a snort.
-”I told ya to open ‘em, brat. So look.” He shakes you slightly. -”Are you horrified? Disgusted?” A toothy grin mouths the words in a slur.
You shake your head. -”Momma says gods are just and to never be scared of them.”
You see the god's face contort into a displeased smile. You couldn't tell how he could smile while being unhappy.
-”Ah, not even a little? Ain’t I gross to look at, kid?”
You mustered courage and shook your head again. -”You are cool, in a good scary way, not bad.”
A strange laugh rattles out of him, fingers letting go of your clothes, to begin scratching his cheeks until thin lines of blood appeared.
-”Get outta my sight, brat.” He grumbles as he turns to retrieve the head he had left.”You're pathetic.”.
Of course you quickly oblige, only taking your blanket, hiding in another alleyway, tucked into a corner, not sleeping one ounce of dreams that night.
Of course the next morning your mother finds you with a cold. You explain the strange happenings, and all she answers was.
-”He protected you.” With a calm smile. -”Thank the gods they have chosen to look over my sweet child.”
You never heard a different response from your mother. She said the same things, perhaps with slightly different intonations and words, but all packing the same meaning. Not once was she alarmed by the gods violence or visage, not even after you saw him fight a few men with swords one night, leaving them all crying in pain until they passed away.
-”They surely deserved it.” She said.
This god of the Entertainment District's Filth was never outright awful to you. Wasn't very kind either. All your encounters with him, he would man handle you- albeit gently, insult you, and in the end, tell you to get lost. However, he always found you when you were the most cold, the most hungry, or the most lonely. And for that you were grateful.
You were also grateful for the random blessings he'd bestow upon you. One day, upon returning to your living quarters, your mother found your landlord dead. Poisoned and stabbed. It happened the night you told Lord Gyutaro how uncomfortable he made you feel. How momma said he wasn't safe. And how a few days ago, he had kissed you, saying it was how all tenants signed their contracts, and you didn't like how it felt.
Another time you found new clothes by your box when you woke one day, right after Lord Gyutaro made fun of your rags.
This time, your mother's debtor had mysteriously disappeared, making all debts null and paid. Suddenly, momma didn't have to work at nights at the brothel. Suddenly, you were packing your things and leaving hours later to go back and live with grandma and cousins.
It was so sudden; you never got to say goodbye to your god. All you were able to do was offer a prayer in that alleyway you so often saw him creep about. Momma approved of the gesture, and both left brooches behind as a sign of gratitude, the nicest and only brooches you had.
-------------
Seventeen years later, you wondered if that god had been the figment of your imagination and mother had only played along because you were a child.
You recounted the stories many times, but only the old folk in the village seemed to believe you. Not even your husband, the alcoholic who swallowed every lie his drinking friends fed him, would listen.
Perhaps it was because they were all men.
Perhaps because your stories didn't involve any money or material gain. Perhaps because your stories were more believable than the scams they often laid upon him, scams that landed you back where your mother had worked when you were small.
It's a cruel law, Japan's law.
A man will incur debt, but his wife must pay it off. Brothels should be filled with those men, not their wives. Especially not the ones who wept over their husbands’ foolishness and the unfairness of it all.
It mattered not now.
Here you were, behind wooden bars as men gawked, spit, whined, yelled, and even begged for even a moment with your gaze. Last night one even clawed at you, arm stretching desperately through the bars, attempting to touch you before security threw him to the ground.
It shook you to your core. The animalistic hunger with which men looked at the women in there. It reminded you of that one landlord that disappeared when you were a child. You now understood why mother never left you alone in that house.
Without realizing it, your right fingertips touched your lips. A queasy feeling encasing in your stomach, flowing up your throat.
-”Lord Gyutaro.” The words tickled your fingers. You muttered them like a spell.
Was he even real?
Ever since you left Yoshiwara, no other god ever looked after you or your mother. She passed away of syphilis ten years after you two moved to the countryside. Practically being of age, your aunts and uncles searched for a good man to keep you happy.
They found a mediocre one who later turned sour. Abusive. Verbal. Physical. You could only say that the first two years had been worth something for the brief peace, the illusion of safety, the quiet comfort that didn’t last.
-”It's dawn. Get up.” A craggy voice interrupted your reminiscing. -”Go to your room and rest. Tomorrow you'll finally begin taking personal clients.” It threatened. -”Be glad we give you a week to learn and adjust.”
The head of the house, the lady pimp, as she was known by that name only in whispers, called out to you and two others who had arrived the same day as you.
On your way back, you paused at a hallway where the Oiran Warabihime was giving one of her assistants an earful again. You simply bowed as you maneuvered around, causing the Oiran to scoff and glare until you were out of sight.
Finally you all shuffled back into your room, changed, and lay feigning sleep, for who could sleep with such a future awaiting them.
-------------
Your heart was beating so rapidly that it was almost painful to feel. Lady pimp had sent you to one of the lower pleasure rooms; said a customer had paid a hefty sum to keep you all night with him.
You found that the room had books, board game sets, and of course, the standard futon area.
You truly had to figure out a way to keep this unknown man entertained all night.
The sound of the shoji being slammed open startled you so badly that a yelp escaped your lips before turning to see who had entered so roughly
A man crossed through who could barely stand comfortably inside the room. His skin was a greyish pale tone, hair flushed from black to green in a messy bun, eyes eerily orange and sharp enough to stir a strange sense of déjà vu in your mind. His yukata was unremarkable, but he seemed to be not used to wearing it, hands scratching the fabric in almost an aggressive way.
-”S-sir, please, take a seat, make yourself comfortable.” Your trembling voice attempted to smile along with your lips.
He grunted, a snicker escaping soon after.
-”Sir?” His lips soon stretched downward.
You clutched your chest, it felt almost suffocating being in the same room as him. It wasn’t that you were terrified rather that you felt, well, afraid, but not in a negative way.
Wait.
You had felt this before.
Years ago.
Your voice trembled in the same way it did now.
Soon your knees gave out, limbs all collectively coiling together on the floor in a form resembling a bow.
-”Please, sir, do not think me mentally ill.” You croaked. -”But, are you- .. … Lord Gyutaro, i-is that you?”
-”Who else, brat?” You could hear the grin in his voice. -”Yer body is still pathetically small.”
You felt your kimono being tugged at the neck and shoulders, making your head become eye level with the god once again as it had many years ago.
-”Just as easy.” The being sneered, however, upon seeing the kimono loosen up around your clavicles, he promptly put you down.
-"H-how did you know I was here?”
-”Ya askin a god that?” An eyebrow shot up before his head turned to inspect the room.
Fidgeting you stood in place, unsure of what to do.
-”What brings you here, M'Lord.”
His ears perked up at the title.
-”Curiosity.” He then turned and sized you up. -"Ya look more pathetic than when you were a child shiverin’ inside a box.”
His teeth glistened inside his curved mouth, proudly looking down on you.
You look down, fingers coiling loose strands of your hair.
-”Back then I had freedom. Now I'm stuck here to pay my husband's debt.”
-”You married.” His tone wasn't of a question, but nonetheless you answered.
-"Four years ago.”
-”He kept the kids?”
-”We had none.”
Another smirk.
-”Ah…” Languidly, a hand of his scratched the crown of his head. -”Ya love him?”
-”Not in the slightest.”
He chuckled. -”Pathetic.”
You stayed where you were standing, eyes fixed on a nearby candle.
-”Yer awful at this.” He sighed, his expression full of boredom.
-”Y-you’re my first personal client.” You offered. -”Is there something you’d like to do, you seem to be famili-”
-”Nah,” He rolled his shoulders and then his neck in ways you hadn’t seen before. “This is something only sorry, filthy humans do.”
-”You really just came to see me.” A tone of hopefulness and nostalgia laced in your words.
-”I said that.” A low huff rumbled in his throat. -”Ya look real different.”
You chuckle. -”I was a child back then.”
A frown was given in response.
-”You look the same, Lord Gyutaro, just less tall.” You walked over carefully. -”If I may.” You bowed as you approached him.
A dismissive grunt, with the turn of his head, reluctant permission was given.
-”As a kid I always wanted to touch your ribbons, I was just too afraid and too small to… May I?”
At first his arm coiled back into his torso, his eyes narrowing in quiet suspicions.
-”Ain’t courtesans the ones bein’ touched, not the other way ‘round?”
You blush, modestly covering up for a moment.
-”Relax.” He ordered, shoving his arm in your face.
Carefully, fingers trace the ribbon on his forearms, gently stopping when they went under his arm.
-”They’re thicker than I thought, and coarser.” Your face came closer to his arm, your breathing bouncing back into your face from his arms, causing him to pull away.
You straightened at once, stiff and mortified. “S-sorry!”
Bright orange eyes studied you, an unbelieving yet curious expression to them.
Then, with surprising gentleness, you felt his finger adjust your bangs that had come out of place when you straightened up with haste.
-”I’m leavin.” He turned away, tone curt. -” I paid for the whole night. Go ‘head and rest.”
-”Th-Thank you, Lord Gyutaro!” You clutched your chest, tears welling up in your eyes. -”How can I repay you?”
-”Think of ways to entertain me tomorrow night.”
--------
-”How does one become a god?”
-”Ya drink another god’s blood,” he muttered, picking lazily at his teeth with a nail, “but they gotta let ya.”
-”And then you choose what god to be? Or you're naturally assigned one?”
A pause.
-”Both.”
-”... .. that's it?”
-"What?”
-”You won't relay the tale of how you became the god of the entertainment district's filth?”
-”Cause I hate em.”
Your hands rest from raking his hair upward, enclosing the strands in an elastic as you hum in disappointment.
-"That's all it took?”
He shrugged, dismissive.
Rolling your eyes, a thought pops into your head.
-”What would I be the god of?” You teasingly shift forward, face near his, holding a mirror up.
-”Awful hairstyles.” He shifts a little to the side, away from your face.
-"What? You and I are now matching.”
-”Exactly.” His voice raked in a growl, eyes glaring at his reflection. -”What on earth made ya think I'd look good in a girly bun?!”
-”That's all I know how to do.” You sheepishly retract the mirror, inspecting his hair.
-”And badly.”
-"Wh-what?” You breathe out, turning the mirror towards your own face.
-”It looks fine on ya cause yer pretty.” The god's hands reached up, undoing your careful work without hesitation.
Your head ricocheted back towards him, slightly blushing. -”Lord Gyutaro?” A doubtful tone.
-"Pretty privileged.” A gargled huff. -”Good. Fer. Ya.” His malcontent laced each word.
-”Is it bad to be pretty?”
He shifted away from you, summoning a blood-red sickle into his right hand. -”Nah. Everyone adores ya when yer pretty. Ya never get bullied, things come easier, and people want tah make ya happy.”
-”Oh… I never realized…” Your voice softened, “I must not be that pretty then.”
-”Hah??!”
You flinch as you hear a gushing sound after a strong stab. The sickle had sunk into his thigh with impulsion, blood gushed briefly before vanishing as the wound sealed itself.
-”L-Lord Gyutaro!” You gasp.
-”Oi, shuddup!” He reprimanded, pointing to how his leg was already healed.
Sitting to ground yourself from what just happened, you cupped your legs close to your chest.
-”What I mean to say is…” You began, hoping to appease his anger. -” As a kid I was always made fun of, and had little friends. When I told adults about it, they scoffed, never believing my words. As I got closer to coming of age, few men would even look at me with intent to court, compared to other girls.”
You laughed faintly, the sound thin -”I’m not sure… even my husband found me attractive. He was ashamed to show me to his friends, having me hide when they were over. Couldn’t even serve them sake as any regular housewife would.”
-”Are ya stupid?”
-”I beg your-”
-”I asked if yer noggin is workin.” the god was now facing you, the corners of his mouth turned downward, teeth bearing in full. -”Cause all I’m hearin is nonsense.”
The wood creaked underneath you as you pressed your legs even closer to your chest.
-”Yer pretty, that’s why ya got locked up away from all the other men.” Your eyes followed as Gyutaro rose from the ground, his back arching languidly, neck stretching forward. -”Jealousy. Those brats envied ya, and those adults too. Tch. Ya have it good, and don’t even realize it.”
-”What’s good about what I just told you?”
His finger began unfurling toward your forehead.
-”Despite all that, some people were nice, yeah?”
You hesitated, then nodded.
He flicked your forehead, just hard enough to sting.
-”If you were ugly, the bullying would never stop. You’d be invisible. No one'd bother bein’ nice.”
Another flick.
-”Maybe shaking that brain of yers will help it understand.” He grinned, satisfaction curling with his words.
You didn’t back away from your god, you let him punish you for your thoughts. You lowered your head apologetically.
-”I see, I am sorry for not seeing that.”
Another flick.
You pouted, rubbing the spot as he chuckled low in his throat.
You hesitated for a moment, lips parting, left open, as your brain lingered on his words.
-”The only way to live a tranquil life is to be normally plain, huh?”
This time no flick came. Instead, his hand reached out, fingers brushing against your hairpin. He tugged it free, letting your hair spill over your shoulders.
-”Maybe.” His lips quivered into a faint frown. -”But, yer pretty and I’m ugly. We’re stuck.”
You shook your head gently.
-”You’re far too harsh on yourself, Lord Gyutaro. You may look scary, inhuman even. But you do not look repulsive.”
You raise a hand, gesturing towards your face.
-”Two expressive eyes, yours are sharp and manly. A nose, two nostrils- straight, no crooks.” A small smile finding you. -”A mouth, it curves upward and downward depending on your mood…. Hair, unique and awe striking. Oh! A strong jaw too.”
The god didn’t move, he wanted to say something, flick you, even push you, but he didn’t, he listened.
-”Two strong arms and legs… I’d say monsters have more than that or less? Everything is where it should be and there is no more of it in quantities.”
-”And you are just. A good heart. A good god.” You added before he could speak. -”That’s more rare than visual beauty.”
The silence stretched, long enough for the sound of the candle’s faint crackle to become unbearably loud.
Gyutaro’s gaze didn’t move from yours. The usual sneer, the twitch of disdain—gone. Only something deeper, quieter. Something that unsettled you in a way fear never could.
His voice, when it came, was rough.
-”Ya talk too much, y’know that?”
You smiled faintly. -”Then stop listening.”
That earned a scoff, low in his throat. He leaned in just enough that the edge of his breath brushed your cheek, smelling faintly of iron and dust.
-”Can’t.”
You blinked. -”Can’t what?”
-”Stop listenin’.”
The words lingered, heavier than they should’ve been.
For a moment, he seemed almost ready to move,to reach for your face, but his hand stopped midair, claws flexing once before retreating to his lap. His jaw tightened, eyes darting away.
-”Yer too close.”
You shifted backward obediently, but there was a beam behind you. Your head turned to look at it and then him.
-”You’ll have to move away.”
He didn’t.
The candle sputtered, flame shrinking to a glow. His gaze returned to yours, warmer this time, but uncertain.
-”This is a waste of time. I gotta go.” His shoulders rolled backward as his legs pushed his body upward.
-”Y-yes, sorry for taking up too much of your time, M’lord.” You mirrored his movements and followed him to the window.
-”W-will I see you tomorrow?” Your voice softly pleaded.
-”Eh?!”
-”N-nevermind. No-nothing.”
Looking over his shoulder, he eyed your fidgeting frame.
-”Why should I waste more time with you?” He frowned fakely, though the edge of a smirk betrayed him.
-”Y-you shouldn’t.”
-”Pray loudly, and I might show up tomorrow night again.”
Your heart lept.
-”I w-will, Lord Gyutaro.”
Then he was gone, leaving only the faint scent of blood and dust, and the slow, steady beat of your own heart.
--------
It was a couple hours before dawn, the brothel was beginning to quiet down. You sat still, observing the night sky, wondering why your god hadn't come to visit tonight.
You shook your head, reminding yourself how silly it was to expect him to come to your rescue each night. Besides, your only two clients tonight wanted nothing physical. For now of course. You could tell they were sizing you up.
Amongst your thoughts you heard arguing outside the room getting closer.
-”We're about to close, all our workers need to rest!”
-”Then close up and rest! I’ll be with her all day. I don' care if she sleeps the whole time.”
-"B-but a courtesan to work during the day is-”
-”I said I don' care! You have your money, what's the fricken fuss??”
-”I-”
-"One more peep out of ya, and I'll make sure Oiran Warabihime leaves this house.”
-"Y-yes sir.”
-"Good.” The scratching voice was finally recognizable to you. -”Now I don' want anyone to come in all day or open windows, you understand?”
-"Y-yes, of course.”
-”Scram,” he then threatened cruelly before his hand shoved the shoji door open and soon closed.
And there your god was, incredibly weary looking, as if he had been fighting all night. You quickly got to inspect him further.
-”Lord Gyutaro, are you alright, you seem-”
Your voice came to halt as the air was squeezed out of you in a moment's notice.
Lanky arms engulfed your frame tightly into a naked chest peaking out of his clothes, a chin slightly digging into the crown of your hair. A tickle spread across your body, as the god inhaled your scent.
Your whole body stiffened, froze, and petrified. Gyutaro had never done this, sure he did whatever he wanted all the time, but he kept a respectful, physical distance from you.
-”Hug me back, damn it!”
His voice jolted you back to reality. Your arms shakily encircled his tall frame, reluctantly, feeling as if this was all betrayal.
But why? And betrayal in what way? He never said he never wanted your personal services. Gyutaro was a god, but he was a male god in the entertainment district, what had made you think he was above any of this.
Your palms soon began tracing circles on his back as you had seen other courtesans do.
For a moment you felt the god relax, but then grunt in dissatisfaction.
-”Stop,” he growled, pushing you away.
Confused, a trembling hand reaches over to him only for it to be slapped away.
-"W-was I not-”
-”I said stop. Ya can't stop tremblin… yer breathin is like the night you told me about that bastard landlord kissin you.” Gyutaro's head then turned away, eyes with an expression resembling regret. -”I'm just as disgustin as that filth, huh! You don't want to touch my gross skin and-”
The more he spoke, the stronger nails raked down his face and chest, clawing small chunks of flesh.
He mumbled to himself, stepping away from you.
-"L-lord Gyutaro, pl-please stop. Do not harm-”
-”Shut up!” A bigger gash and a strong smell of iron. -”You call me a god but yer trembling like I'm a curse!”
Tears blurred his figure.
-”No, no! You are my god, I owe much to you.” Your hands then clumsily go for your kimono sash, but you couldn't even clasp it for more than a few seconds. -”All of me is yours.” You muttered, a tone of dread hanging in your words.
-"Enough!” He yelled for the first time in your life. -”I disgust ya so much that it brings you to tears??”
You shake your head trying to wipe away your tears quickly.
-”Don't lie to me.” He growled back.
-”I just- … it's just- …” your words heaved. -”I thought you- Lord Gyutaro, didn't see me the way the rest does." You finally admitted
-”And what way's that?”
You swallowed. -”Something to buy. To use.”
For a heartbeat, neither moved. His ragged breathing and faint creak of the floorboards as he adjusted his weight accompanied both of you.
-”Use ya?” His mouth curved upward cruelly. -"You think I need to pay to have ya like them?” Dry laughter soon followed.
You flinch at the stinging words, knowing he was right. Either way, who were you to reject a god?
This time, resolutely, your hands steadily grasp your sash, pulling to untie them, but before the sash drops, you feel warmth enveloping you.
The futon's thick blanket covered all but your head.
-”Growing up here messed with yer head, brat. Ya can't even think clearly.” Clawed fingers lifted you up and dropped you onto the futon. -”Sleep, pathetic human. Maybe that'll clear yer stupid brain.”
You couldn't do much but obey. The soft cotton engulfed your body in an inviting comfort that began easing your heart.
Silence.
The shuffling of feet could be heard upstairs, and muffled voices, but that was it.
-”What will you do while I sleep, Lord Gyutaro.”
He scoffed as he watched you shuffle. -"The same, dummy.”
The flickering of the candle was starting to die out, but it didn't matter because the natural sunlight peaked through the wooden crevices.
Your breathing slowed, and so did your thoughts. You played back the way he had entered frantically and hugged you.
-"Are you hurt? You didn't answer when-”
-”Do I look hurt?”
-”... … Not really.”
Gyutaro's long finger pointed at his brain as he tilted his head sideways, an insulting gesture.
You held out your hand, to which he glared at curiously.
-”You don’t look hurt, but your eyes seem exhausted.”
He didn’t respond.
-”Why… did you hug me, M’lord?”
-”Cause I wanted to.”
-”Was that all you wanted?”
-”This brothel got ya sick in the head.”
-”Just say yes or no!”
-”No! And don’ bark orders at me. I’m yer god!” He repressed himself more into the corner of the room. -”But I didn’t want what yer insinuatin’. Just wanted ta know how ya felt.”
-”About you?”
No answer.
-”You… are my everything, my god.”
-”That’s it?”
Your brow furled, confused.
-”Is there a greater admiration than one offered to a god?”
-”Love.” The deity cracked.
Your hand continued to reach out.
He ignored it.
-”Do you love me, m’lord?”
A scoff, but nothing else.
You exhaled softly, gaze falling to the floor. “I see.”
Silence followed; thick, uneasy. But when you turned slightly away, his voice broke it, rougher than before.
“Yer askin’ things ya don’t understand. Gods and humans are different”
“I ask in hopes to understand.”
-“Love’s a fool’s word for weak humans.”He clicked his tongue, annoyed,or pretending to be. -”I ain’t like that.”
-”Then teach me what a god feels for a human like me.”
The air shifted. Gyutaro’s hand twitched once, then again, before his fingers brushed the edge of your sleeve hesitantly, almost by accident.
“Yer real stupid sometimes,” he muttered, eyes narrowing though his voice toned with a sweet sound.
-“Lord Gyutaro,” you whispered at last, “please stay and enlighten me. Change me and my stupid thoughts and assumptions.” It was your roundabout way of apologizing for assuming the worst of him.
A boney hand suddenly obliged as it slithered into your own.
Your hand gripped it back, showing how precious it was to you, despite the owner sitting far away from you.
When you awoke, said hand was still in yours, however, his body was closer.
He had fallen asleep next to you. Despite his relaxed state, his hand that held yours clung steadily.
-”I think…” Your croaking voice began mumbling. -”I could even perform ashinuke**, if you asked me.”
It was too early for your eyes to be sharp and ready, but Gyutaro's body moved slightly when you uttered those words, unseen lips curving upward for a moment.
I would be happy to request if that's alright. I saw you had Bleach on your list of fandoms. Would Yoruichi be someone you feel comfortable writing for?
Hi Anon! Of course! She seems fun to write for, what's your request?
Heya, guys!! Especially with holidays coming up, I'll have a ton of time to write. Go ahead and send me whatever, especially anything spooky since it's halloween haha
I feel like my writing has improved thanks to an English major friend who has been revising my non fanfic work, so if you were iffy about my writing before, you'll like it! If you liked my writing before, you'll love it now!
A/N: Fellas, oh wow, it's been ages. You can thank writer's block and imposter syndrome for most of it. I truly have not been able to write or finish writing what I started. So, this is a sort miracle haha. Please, let me know how I did with portraying Silco, I want to soon do an enemies to lovers with a La La Land vibe because it'll be with an enforcer.
Warnings: Mild references to human trafficking, grooming, and implied ca because I portrayed the some of the rich in Piltover similar to what we have here.
Word Count: 2,648
Synopsis: Invited to a Chem Baron party by your uncle, you meet Silco. Romantic tension and mutual pining for one night.
An exclusive Zaunite event.
Finn expressed how special the invitation repeatedly since your arrival in The Lanes. It was a temporary stay, council mandated. It reminded you of those days when your parents would send you to your room to reflect on your actions.
Truly, the similarity was laughably astounding.
Now, you stood next to your uncle, eyes rapidly processing all the lights, people, and sounds that drowned any real thinking. You had been to bars and clubs in Piltover, so these strategies to overwhelm your senses was nothing new. However, they were never so pervasive, especially the smell. It had been a few days in your hometown, and yet your gag reflex triggered even during random moments like this.
When the doors of the Last Drop opened, the volume nearly doubled. Light burst in waves. The crowd pushed closer, brushing past without a glance.
Finn kept you close for a while, until you’d served your purpose, attracting the kind of attention that flattered him. The moment he had enough women clinging to his arms, you were dismissed. That wasn’t new. Pilties pulled the same stunt. You were attractive enough to draw curiosity, even jealousy, but your detached demeanor bored the social climbers and pleasure-seekers alike.
Left alone, you wandered to the bar, curious to taste what The Last Drop had to offer, uninterrupted, no uncle to interject.This was the first time you had been in a Zaunite bar, so most names sounded foreign. Clicking your tongue, you give up and ask for the bartender to surprise you.
However, seeing him pouring the fruity drink was not surprising at all.
-”A more refined drink, for the refined individual.” He winked.
Your lips twitched sideways, a poor excuse for an attempted smile. Still, he was trying, so you tipped him.
You lingered at the bar, sitting on a stool, eyes dour when a flock of brothel workers began making their way near you. It wasn't that you were against them earning a living, you just were too awkward with those interactions. It was difficult to hide the aversion. It wasn't their fault, it was just that you weren't wired for fleeting and forced intimacy.
You moved off quickly, slipping near the booths where the chem barons held court; networking, flaunting, performing. Some Piltover elites lounged there too. Most avoided eye contact as if it was beneath them. Others fleered, amused to see you here. Of course they all knew who you were.
You scowled, your tongue trailing your front teeth, as quiet tactic to prevent you from speaking your mind.
-”Your company has mostly moved downstairs or is near the bar, why is it that you've remained?” Even over the pounding music, his voice cut through,gravel-laced and unmistakable.
A swift pivot and your eyes landed on the famed Eye of Zaun whose thin lips began parting into a slight sneer.
His eyes, though only one showed most of his emotions, narrowed with calculated mockery, as if the smaller the eyelid got, so did your self worth.
You knew damn well you looked nothing like his hired pleasure girls and boys, not by dress, not by posture, and certainly not by intention. His opening was deliberate: a provocation meant to test you, a power play.
-”Sorry, but the only company I came with was Uncle Finn.” Your face shows little emotion as your eyes study his facial muscles replying. As he processes your words, your head tilts toward the booth where the young crime lord was surrounded by two actual pleasure girls.
-”Finn has never mentioned a niece.”
Another jab. Another test.
-”Secrets are worth a hefty sum in your line of work.”
This time it was his turn to react to a jab. His lower lip twitched upward momentarily, something flickering in his eye. Not amusement. Interest.
-”And yet he spent it so easily. What made him willing to lose the profit?”
You tap the mug for a few moments, looking down into the drink, still colorless, reflecting nothing. -”I must be worth showing off now.”
-”Now that you-”
-”Now that I've graduated from Piltover's Academy and have made a name for myself.“ You cut in sharp, with a flash of bitterness that slipped past your usual restraint, obviously from pent up frustration.
Silco let the outburst hang for a breath before turning his gaze to the bar. He didn’t press. He didn’t mock.
He simply hummed, thoughtful. The undertone wasn't lost on him.
-”They'll never fully accept you.” He astutely replied. -”Not even if you outshine them all.”
Your mouth twists, eyes avoiding any contact.
-”That world…”You exhaled through your nose. “is not worth joining. Depraved. Every single one of them.” Your thumb begins pushing against the handle of the mug that had a loose piece of metal, the movement becoming faster with every few words.
-”And they see us like sewer rats.” Silco’s agreement came low and certain.
-”Don't mistake me,” You uttered, eyes still averted. “I don't.. … exactly agree with the life The Lanes carries, however, it can be sympathized with for…” You pause as you restrain your eyes from looking at Silco or any chem baron. -”Most.”
From the corner of your eye, you see Silco leaned against the aging beam that held up a wall for a booth, arms folded. He hummed, interested.
You took a long drink, forcing it down your throat like the alcohol could disinfect what you had to say next.
-”Everything is paid off with favors, nothing is completely legal. Believe me when I say that if those Hex Gates accessed a stronger drug than shimmer…” Your eyes flicked to him then. “You’d be wiped out overnight.”
Silco grunted, low and displeased. You paused, then pressed on—softer, but with more weight.
-”That's not the worst of it. Though hypocrisy, debauchery, and greed at that level should be a crime when the undercity suffers... it’s the way they use people that rots deepest, how they're shuffled around worse than cattle.”
Your thumb scraped harder now. Scraping, grinding at the edge of the handle until it squealed beneath your nail.
-"Y-you ever wonder why enforcers are so hellbent on imprisoning even children?” Your voice cracks with emotion. -”They .. .. they don't all stay there. Pilties collect the obedient ones. The pretty ones. The paraded pretense is charity, but, heh, there is none behind it. They're used at these .. .. parties.”
-”They-” Silco's voice turns cold.
-”Yes.” The word left you sharp, bitter, desperate. -"The children are dressed in cute little waiter and waitress outfits. They serve these reprobates, smiling, they have to. Most are left alone until they are of age… but by then? Ohhh, they've been groomed. Groomed. Like this was all their choice” Your thumb finally breaks off the unsecured piece of metal from the mug. You curse as the metal cuts through skin and fingernail. Hissing through clenched teeth, blood was already welling up beneath the fingernail.
Silco languidly raises his right arm, waving two fingers flagging down a server, head tilting towards you. Impressive how they understood him without words.
Intimidating even.
Fluidly, his hand flows into a vest pocket, thumb and middle finger pinching a cream colored handkerchief that soon landed on your injury. His other fingers closed over it, steady and precise—firm enough to stop the bleeding, gentle enough not to hurt.
Your eyes ricocheted upward only to see he wasn't even paying attention to you. His eyes jostled within his socket, registering the scene. People dancing, drinking, kissing, chatting, flirting, and even arguing. You followed his line of sight as it caught on to a nearby booth where a cluster of Pilties were being loud. Their eyes flicked toward you more than once. You didn’t notice the subtle shift in his jaw, or the way his free arm reached for your shoulder, turning you to face forward.
His touch lingered only a moment before he pulled back, releasing your hand and accepting a small box from a nearby subordinate.
"Up the stairs," he murmured near your ear. "To the left."
His voice was low, breath-warmed silk. You barely registered the box he slipped into your other hand.
You turned slightly, your mouth already parting to object.
But Silco wasn’t looking for your agreement. He already wasn’t looking at you at all.
You arrived at this heavy set of doors; thick, dark, and looming. Hopefully an office, you thought. Anything but a bedroom. Pushing a door open, you gingerly pace through the area before plopping onto a normal looking chair. You didn't dare sitting on the expensive looking couch. The space was dimly lit, sterile in its cleanliness, but undeniably luxurious.
A few minutes later, with your thumb wrapped in a makeshift bandage, you found yourself staring out the tall window. Neon lights bled together in the distance, warping into blurs if you squinted. Even from this high up, the smog was visible, heavy, poetically palpable. You inhaled deeply, unsure what exactly you'd been sent up here to wait for.
On cue, Silco entered the room without ceremony. He sauntered over to inspect the wrapped finger, his upper lip tugging upward, scrunching his nose. His lips parted for a moment, but you could tell he didn’t want to speak, it was a simple agreement to himself.
-"Those Piltover guests.” He began as his feet took him to his desk to grab a cigar. -”You knew them from those parties, yes?”
He selected one, then paused, plucking a second. A glance toward you made the offer clear.
You shook your head watching as he walked over to the couch in front of you. -”Yes. They probably kept sneering at me because I gave them some… blunt feedback on their party that landed me back here.”
-”They'll never be seen here again.” Was all he replied as a hand searched his pockets for a lighter.
Your eyes widened. -”You didn't ki-.”
-”And risk council intervention? Of course not.” Silco interjected, eyes catching sight of the cigar cutter. -”We simply don't entertain that kind of filth here. Besides…” He smiled knowingly. “Patience brings greater rewards.”
You sit back into your chair for a moment, feeling a sort of relief washing over your muscles. You then eye Silco still looking for a lighter, the one that had fallen from the table that divided you from him. Leaning down, you then wave it up as you hoist yourself up, letting him know it had been found.
He made no move to take it.
Instead, Silco leaned forward, cigar between his lips, waiting—expecting.
You blinked. Blinked a few times, but his gaze was steady, unwavering.
So, you leaned forward as well, flipping the lid and flicking the igniter before leaning further forward with the flame.
The table was too long for your arm to comfortably stretch to meet his cigar, so your arm began to shake a little. Silco’s hand soon encircled your wrist, steadying it with gentleness, his eyes not focusing on the lighter, but on you. Once the cigar had been lit, he didn’t let you go for a moment, his gaze studying every part of your face.
-”Your resemblance to Finn is…” He let his voice drift away. He didn’t need to finish. You already knew.
-”Would you believe that he is younger?” Your attention drifted to his touch that still steadied you close.
He shrugged, smirking a little, amused.
With a small concern for the flame that still burned near your hand and his face, your lips leaned instinctively in to blow it out since your other hand was steading your body over the table.
The Eye of Zaun’s eyebrow quirked upward, almost letting go of your hand, cradling the cigar so it wouldn’t go out as well.
Perhaps it was the dim green light of his office… or maybe how close your hand had come to his face when he had steadied them during your fumbling attempt to light his cigar. Either way, your cheeks warmed.
-”S-sorry.” You mutter with a light croak, as you retreat your hand.
Silco offered no reaction or reply. Instead, he haltingly began releasing your hand, his fingers skimmed along yours as he took the lighter, his touch deliberate in its silence.
And then? He said nothing else. His gaze fell upon the large window behind his desk. Body now spread across his couch leaving little space between his proximities and the armrests.
-”Do you listen to music?” The Eye of Zaun’s attention was elsewhere, eyes coyly refusing to acknowledge you, but his voice failed to mask his interest.
-”I assume you mean to ask about my tastes, for only deaf people can’t listen to music.” Your mouth twists upward, nose scrunching knowingly.
He hums in return, still refusing to shift his head towards you.
-”Jazz. Anything that stems from it too.”
-”That’s a large umbrella, do be specific.”
-”Ah, I-” Your brain rapidly firing information to your mouth excitedly causes you to stumble with your words. -”Bebop, swing, and RnB are my favorites.”
This time he adjusts his position before decidedly standing up, tapping his cigar on a nearby ashtray.
As you observe him thumb through a neatly stacked group of vinyls, you awkwardly tap on the chair.
-”What about you?”
-”You’ll see.”
The clinking and rasping of the vinyl player roaring to life soon morphed into piano tunes you knew well.
-”Loscar Petterson!*” Your body lunged forward into the edge of your chair automatically, showing restraint from the initial thought to run up. -”Noreen’s Nocturne.”
Silco turned, amused by the scrape of your chair. Then he saw your face; something in him caught a soundless hitch in his breath.
You were genuinely smiling, lips grinning revealing just a hint of teeth, as if the joy inside you couldn’t help but spill out. Your eyes lit up, creased with the beginnings of laughter, shining with something electric.
Silco leaned on the table near the record player, his body seemingly relaxing, its usual guardedness leaving. With a tug at the corners of his mouth, he signaled for you to come over, his eyes lingering on your face as you complied.
He barely said many words as you browsed his collection, simply agreeing with your lengthy opinions of eras, albums or artists. Then you simply stopped talking, eyes contemplating and then .. … admiring him. Silco returned the sentiment.
This time there were no butterflies, no blushing.
No, this time . … it was simple recognition.
And then it ended.
Silco took the vinyl in your hands and gently returned it, no explanation given.
As you stood there, you realized this was his limit to this sort of intimacy, vulnerability. He was the Eye of Zaun, the revolutionary that would bring a free and sovereign future to The Lanes.
So, you said and did nothing else.
He paused, taking one more look at you, truly taking you in again, your soul… and you his.
His right hand rested on your shoulder, not to steer you this time, but to hold you in place. Then, slowly, deliberately, he pressed a kiss to your temple.
Your body immediately swung towards the door, a gentle tap, not push, following.
This time you didn’t look back. Obediently you exited his office, saying nothing, asking nothing, regretting little.
You never spoke to Silco again.
Your ‘time-out’ ended two days afterward, and you never returned to Zaun after that. The political climate became too heavy. Blockades, curfews, and more enforcer activity discouraged all upper city residents from even approaching the bridge.
At least that is what you told yourself. It was a year after you met him that all that happened. You knew well there was no use in going back, his vision lay solely on revolution.
That night? It was nothing more than a breath between storms. A dream, maybe.
A/N: Hello! IT HAS BEEN AGES. Writer's block, tendonitis, and new jobs will do wonders on you ): Terrible ones lol But! I'm working on old requests and some new ideas too, so hopefully y'all like it. This was fun for me since this is my first fleshed-out yandere story. I really only write fluff. If y'all liked it, I think I'm getting the hang of it! Please do!
Warnings: Gaslighting, manipulation, creepy yandere behavior (It is only for entertainment purposes, I do not condone this behavior), bloody images, light violence, possessiveness.
Word Count: 6.2k
Part 5:
A/N: Hello! Hope you lovelies are well! Who knew a full time job would take away so much of my time just like school did ): Fortunately, and
Hide? Hide?! What did the Joker mean by hide?
This place essentially an open prison where most rooms were made to be transparent to a large degree. It was all a cruel joke. As if hiding could do much to prevent a gruesome death from Arkahm’s criminally disturbed jester. You knew for a fact that the threat wasn’t just those few high security patients, but all those mafiosos that had been collected with time.
You were currently in the common room returning a patient after a session with you and Dr Crane. He had gone to his office right after the session while you escorted this patient. As if by clockwork, the moment the other nurse took the patient into the large room, the Joker’s shrill voice rang throughout. The instant he had finished, all the nurses and patients nervously glanced at each other first, and then at the mafiosos. Their response to the nervous gazes was to smirk and run towards the door you were next to. The nurse and patient near you were shoved, but you were gripped and dragged with a group of them for a few seconds.
-”N-no! What are you doing!!” Your voice croaked.
-”Taking ya ta safety.” One began while opening the door to the stairs.
-” Boss’ll kill us if some ting would happen ta ya.” The other ended.
-” Boss?” Your curiosity and concern arouse. -” Then take the patients and nurses with us too!”
The broken off group of five men chuckled as the all made their way down the asylum.
-”We only gettin paid ta babysit one person.”
-”Well don’t! Just tell me where you’re taking me, and I’ll take them with me.”
-”No can do, miss.” They shrugged while switching hands so they could open the door to a new hall.
You were being carried by two men grasping your forearms and lifting you above the ground, like a toddler.
-”Let me go!!” You howled dramatically while kicking around.
-”Geez, lady! We’re saving you, stop it!” One of the grunts grabbed your feet.
-”Oh, taking me to your ‘boss’ is saving me?? Yeah, right!”
-” Who said we-”
-”Where else would you-” You glared. -”Tell Joker I’d rather die out here than in there.”
-”He isn’t-
Bullets rang through out the hall. The massacre had begun.
The mafiosos instantly dropped to the ground, loosening their grip on you. So you did the insensible thing and kicked one in the head before sprinting away while the sound of bullets hitting thick glass and concrete could still be heard. The grunts didn’t go after you. It wasn’t the sharp thing to do while bullets ricocheted. Not to mention you were running towards the sound of the deadly machine. You were probably going to die soon and there wasn’t much they could do about it.
As you ran down the hall, ducking your head and picking up a metal trash bin as protection, your eyes scanned to check which floor you were on.
Seven.
Two below where you were originally, six below the offices, and three above the high-level security criminals.
Two floors away from the patients and nurses, six away from Dr Crane, and three away from the Joker and crew. This speculation was in all likelihood mostly wrong. Who knew if Jonathan had actually made it into his office before the chaos, and if he still had headed that way after the announcement. Who knew if the Joker had already gotten out of his cell when he made that announcement, or if the other criminals had as well.
The pouring of bullets had ceased as you had paused to think. With shaky breath, you crept close to the wall and continued in the same direction. Not because you were stupid, but because floor seven housed patients as well. The type that are on their way to being criminally disturbed, but hadn’t quite reached that milestone yet. In part, you didn’t want them getting guns and figuring out if that lifestyle was for them.
As you continued to cautiously creep, you could hear some mumbling and shuffling. The voice sounded frustrated. The shuffling tellingly sounded like bodies being dragged around with a large object following suit.
Gulping, you reached the corner where you could easily peek since it was now the resident hall. The thick glass windows for the rooms reflected the other thick glass, so thankfully you didn’t need to stick your whole neck out there.
-”Fit…. Hats… Go in… No?... ”
You could pick up a few words from the mumbling, short man that was trying so hard to place top hats on all the now knocked-out mafiosos on the floor. It seemed like the heavy gun in his right hand was made to expel a gas and not bullets, which explained the lack of blood for all the downed bodies. Although, the bodies did exhibit huge cists in their faces and overall skin above their abdomen.
-” It’s worked before!” The mumbling became audible whining. -” Oh, why, oh why won’t this work!? I finally found guests for my tea party but their brains won’t respond. That Cheshire Cat lied to me!” It seethed. -” This isn’t sleeping gas, it’s killing gas!”
The inmate the small man was handling was suddenly flung to the ground with force, knocking off a frilly, drastically colored top hat off of its now severely bruised skull.
-” No, no, no. This is all wrong, all wrong! It’s inside out, and outside in, and upside down- all wrong, wrong, wrong!” This voice became more manic as its owner surveyed all the men laying around him. His shoulders tensed up, both fists curled up fiercely before he stomped on a hand to see if there was a reaction.
There was none.
-” Dr. Tetch!” You intervened before it got any more violent. -” Dr. Tetch.” You called in a softer voice with a shaky smile.
The short man twirled around with a spring in his step, dropping the gun he had.
-” Why, if it isn’t you! .. … .. Alice?” His face scrunched at the end in confusion.
It had been many months since you had seen each other. Last time he had seen you, he had asked if you were Alice, and if you weren’t, if you could become Alice. The Warden soon banned you and you two never spoke again until today.
Breathing in heavily, you shook your head, carefully of your next response. -” My name is Y/N L/N, remember? I’m not Alice. I don’t look like her.” You smiled kindly.
The previously accredited Doctor hummed while he thought about your statement, tapping his right foot sometimes on the ground and other times on the previously stomped hand.
-” So.. … you’re, Not Alice? Peculiar choice, but who am I to judge. We are all mad here anyways!” He beamed. -” Do you perhaps know where Alice went?”
Shaking your head you motioned for him to come to you. -” Not yet. Let’s look around together. There’s a lot of chaos right now, like when the Red Queen first released the Jabberwock.”
-”Nasty creature.” He shook his head as he listened.
-”So we need to help all the people to safety from the cards with guns.”
He nodded knowingly. -”I see. My tea party must wait. I should help Not Alice with her people while looking for Alice before the next party.” His eyes then trailed back to the large gun he had dropped.
-"Uhm, how about we leave Cheshire Cat's gun behind? It sounds like he pranked you." You cautiously patted his arm, motioning him to move away from it. "W-what does Cheshire look like?" You asked as you both walked away slowly.
-"He always smirks with his long smile. Laughs even if the joke isn't funny. His green hair makes him look awful."
Dr. Tetch seemed to become perturbed as before, fists clenched, shoulder shaking as he spoke about who you assumed was the Joker.
-"What other creatures from Wonderland have you met here?" Was the attempt you gave to deviate the conversation.
-"Not many." He pouted. -"Only the undesirable cretins. For example, did you know the caterpillar lives here?"
-"No way!" You encouraged.
-"Yes, Not Alice, yes! He wears a burlap sack as a mask and attempts to scare all those who look at him."
-"That. …. Doesn't sound very like the caterpillar. You sure that's him?"
-"Nooo, no. It is him. He's always exuding smoke, so much smoke he looks different after it."
-"I see... …" Your nose scrunched up while your mind shifted gears. You had no idea who he was talking about. There was no criminal that matched that description in the asylum.
As both of you made it to the stairs you looked around to find the hallway empty. That seemed wrong. How could you two not have seen anyone? These patients were usually in their rooms during this time of day, but all the rooms were empty. You pondered for a second before opening the door to the staircase.
-"Let's go upstairs, Dr Tetch. We didn't find anyone that needs help here, so let's see if they're up there."
-"But I'm not allowed there." He smiled mischievously at you.
You snorted out a chuckle; as if the Hatter cared about following the rules.
-"It's okay, you're with me." Your head nodded forward and the two of you trekked two flights of stairs before stopping at the sound of voices speaking.
Shushing the small man, you opened the door and motioned for him to follow you carefully. Crawling on your knees you could hear some of the mafiosos sharing good laughter and not-so-good drinks.
Pausing, you decided that your unlikely pair should go around them.
And so you did.
Which was a mistake.
Clown-masked gunmen roared with laughter when they saw your pathetic attempts to creep around the asylum. While they laughed, you yanked Jervis Tetch off the crouching position and ran towards the staircase, knocking over hallway furniture in hopes it would do something.
It did.
It caused more laughter.
Which brought more attention towards the two of you. As you two ran, you could hear the heavy footsteps from the mafiosos closing in from the other side.
A few bullets were shot as a warning from the left, the direction of the clowns.
Another round was shot from the right, from the mafiosos, this time sounding closer.
Cursing under your breath, you harshly pulled the short Doctor to your side, hoping he'd run faster.
And then, you tripped.
It wasn't because you were clumsy. It was because they had caught up to you and had shot at your feet. The trash bin next to your feet was now disfigured.
-"Where you going, honey?" The tallest clown purred as a group of them closed in in you two.
-"Wit us, ya nasty clown." A mafioso spat as another shot at their feet.
-"Don't think so." The same clown spoke with animosity as they all raised their guns.
Your head jerked around. You two were about to be caught in the crossfire. It was almost like those scenes in those Western movies, where the gun was the law.
They were about to settle these disagreements for good.
All you could do would hope that the small corner that dipped around a column to your right was a big enough shield for the two of you.
Eyes squeezing shut, you threw your body weight on Jervis, hoping it pushed him far into the corner enough with you away from the gun fire. He yelped when his back hit the corner wall, bewildered by your sudden violent action towards him.
-"Stay down!" You yell, hoping your voice could be heard over the bullets hitting the walls around the two of you. Your eyes shot open to see a scared Mad Hatter, his glistening eyes resembling a child's.
Suddenly, long shadows formed over his face. You felt something was suddenly growing behind you.
-"Cacti!" Dr Tetch exclaimed softly, with an innocent, yet confused smile.
You didn't move until the gunfire finished and the thugs' footsteps sounded far away. Slowly, you twisted your body to face the thick wall of succulents.
-"Dr. Isley." You breathed out with relief and gratitude.
-"Who else, Y/N." Her voice softly trailed into your ears as the succulents receded and bullets fell on the floor. You could hear her smiling coyly.
-"Thank you so much." Your voice choked up at the end. In turn, the woman in green blushed a little while dismissing your gratitude.
-"Why are you being so reckless, Y/N??" She demanded. -"You should be hiding like the rest of the staff."
-"Uhm, I just wanted to hide with the patients.. … make sure they were hidden well before I did so." Your eyes evaded hers. -"I was also hoping to find Dr. Crane."
Ivy snorted in response. -"You do love to multitask." She helped both of you up while avoiding all the downed bodies at her feet. -"Well, I don't think you'll find him in this wing or building." Ivy offered almost sarcastically, almost insinuating something you didn't understand. -"He's most certainly somewhere else at a time like this. So!" She clapped her hands. -"You need to hide. Now."
Suddenly, Jervis and yourself were shoved into the nearest room.
-"Either I or someone from the law will come to get you when this mess is finished." She placed her hands on her hips in a powerful way. -"And don't even think of leaving this room, my lovelies will let me know if you so much as open the door. And if you do, I'll kick your-"
-"Oh! The flower princess!" Mad Hatter exclaimed while grabbing one of Ivy's vines.
You gently took his hand away from the plant and smiled. -"We won't." You now smiled at her. -"Thank you so much again for taking care of us, Doctor Isley."
Dr Tetch gripped your hand after you lowered his away, and happily swung it around lightly.
Your free arm went around Ivy's right shoulder as it pulled her into a hug.
-"Thank you." You whispered shakily with many different emotions. -"I owe you my life, thank you for being so kind."
Ivy hesitantly patted your back, embarrassed by all of this show of gratitude and love. In her mind, she didn't understand why she had even bothered to help you before reaching the greenhouse to see how her plants were doing. I mean, you were on the way there and the plants were telling her they were fine at the moment. … …
And yet, the moment Ivy had seen you throw yourself over the Hatter to protect a disturbed serial killer who had almost no chance of coming back to reality- her heart wrenched in compassion.
Pamela Isley realized that there truly were very few people that were genuine.
Intentions as transparent as a plant's need for sun.
So she stayed.
She protected the both of you, even if she didn't care for the Mad Hatter. She saved your life because she knew you'd do the same for her without a second thought, but unlike her, you wouldn't wonder why you did it.
Ivy broke the hug while giving a smile you had never seen adorn her face. She didn't say anything but kept that smile as she closed the door and walked away.
Sighing in relief, you surveyed the room quickly until you saw a place to hide. You gently moved the Hatter towards the said area, motioning him onto the floor next to you so he could rest, which he obediently did enthusiastically.
Your eyes delicately studied Jervis, who calmly but happily sat next to you, grasping your hand still. The two are hidden in a medium security therapy room, behind a sofa, the only protection the room could offer you two. The Mad Hatter was practically snuggled up to you- leaving you to wonder what was the difference between him and a child at that moment.
As you sat together in silence, your mind wandered. Although you knew he was harmless at the moment, how long would that moment last? Despite your empathetic, platonic feelings of almost love for the patient, you worried you had made a mistake.
Had you made the correct decision of staying by his side? Why couldn't you just leave him in the room alone?
Why?
Because he wouldn't stay put and get hurt. Or worse-
He'd hurt many of the other helpless patients.
Perhaps that's why you stubbornly stayed with him, for the sake of others.
You held his hand tightly so he wouldn't leave your side, because by your side you had a higher chance of controlling him.
-"Ms. Not Alice?" Jervis called out to you, a pout formulated in his voice.
-"Yes, Dr. Tetch?"
-"Th - thank you for staying with me. The Cheshire Cat truly made a mess of things.. .. He ruined my tea party!! Oh, what an awful wench." He seethed. -"But at least you're here with me, Not Alice. You know, you're just as nice as my Alice. You help me miss her less."
-"I'm. … . I'm glad to hear that." You softly smiled. -"Why don't you rest? You'll need all of your energy before the next tea party."
-"You most certainly are correct, Not Alice. I will sleep now for the sake of my next party. You should do the same. The princess of the flowers said she would keep us safe, so don't worry."
You fell asleep against better judgment.
That mistake cost you greatly.
Not soon after you had begun dreaming the door was busted open with an almost deafening slam. A tall, almost languid man stood in the center of a few mafiosos who were wearing haze masks. He wore a burlap mask that resembled a scarecrow over his entire face and neck, looking out of place with his grey suit.
-"Take her, leave him to me." The voice growled and gurgled. He had made his way over to Dr. Tetch who was losing any composure he had gained while with you.
-"No! Don't take, Not Alice! You can't, you can't!!" He jumped up, stomping.
The lean man slapped him across the face with the back of his hand. Before the Mad Hatter could fall, his collar was clasped with both hands of his assailant, and gas was dispensed from one of the wrists.
Jervis was then let go, and he fell to the ground coughing, despair written all over his face.
-"What did you do to him?!" You squealed as the mafiosos dragged your squirming body towards the door. -"Leave him alone!!" You barked.
That seemed to hit a nerve with the burlap man. His right hand twitched while his shoulders tensed up. His eyes narrowed on you and then glared at the Hatter. Scoffing with distaste, he kicked the downed criminal in the stomach.
-"Worry only about yourself." He spat as he sped towards you. -"Worry only about those who actually matter." He said softly while stopping and inspecting your face. A hand then lightly rested on your chin while another on the nape of your neck.
And then a clicking sound resonated by your ears right before a hiss. A small cloud of smoke appeared in your vision momentarily before you became dizzy.
-"I'll keep you safe." A distorted, rumbling voice said near your right ear before you felt yourself begin to slip from consciousness.
You shook your head, you didn't want to let him win at whatever game he was playing at. However, the worst images began to plague your mind. Your body began to quiver, your breath refusing to stay rhythmic and constant. Even the room seemed to tremble. Empathetically it shook every time you heard your mother call out your name, or whenever her voice called out your sibling's names.
You swore the men who were once beside you were now two young kids. Two young kids who looked like you.
The only difference was that you didn't have blood oozing out of your mouth like them.
You wanted to vomit.
And then you heard a different voice.
"Is the world falling apart or just your mind? Are you scared? Embrace it." The distorted words taunted you.
You closed your eyes. You had seen enough.
"Open those eyes." This voice seethes. - "Look around you. These are the broken fragments of your mind!"
You threw your head around and squeezed your eyes shut even harder.
"You're fighting back? Interesting. Well, that's quite fine. That means your resolve will end up being destroyed in the end when you see you cannot escape this."
A hand traced your features tenderly. Confused, you stopped wriggly around.
"You've always buried your fears, locked them away deep in your subconscious. Hidden. But something is gnawing away in the darkness of your mind, isn't it? Something even you can't control."
The tracing stopped. The world, though it continued to hammer fear into your head, seemed to calm down.
-"You're healing." The distorted voice breathed happily into your ear. -"You're evolving, and I'll be here to help you through it."
A kiss.
A tender kiss was placed behind your ear.
Your eyes shot open while your head jerked to the side. It was met with an index finger that waved centimeters from your nose.
Tutting, the burlap man took out a black feather from his suit pocket and traced it along your jawline.
-"Time for you to rest."
You woke up in a cold, large room. It resembled a lab, like the makeshift ones you had in high school. Little to no light poured through the two windows that resided to the right. You realized it was a basement room upon closer inspection of the windows which were locked and shielded with metal bars.
You also realized that your hair was being loosely stroked while your head rested on a lap. You turned your head so it faced the ceiling, and later Jonathan Crane's peeking face.
-"I'm so glad you're finally awake, Y/N." He affectionately hummed. -"I was worried they had been too rough with you."
-"They?" You huffed as you sat up slowly.
-"The Scarecrow's goons, and Scarecrow himself. That gas knocked you out for hours, he used too much. I think the Hatter upset him."
-"How do you know all that?"
He cocked his head gently to the left while nudging yours to follow. You then saw a whole wall of screens that led to many of the halls and rooms of the asylum.
-"Oh. .. .. how long have you been here?"
-"Not sure, all I know is longer than you. But I'm glad, I was so worried about you, Y/N." Crane's face nuzzled into your neck as he spoke.
You flinched.
Not as his touch, but at how calm he was.
-"Jonathan, I don't think this is the time- We don't know if we're safe here or why we're even here." Your hands gently pushed him away.
Almost pouting, Crane sighed heavily. -"We're safe here. I don't think Scarecrow will come back any time soon. He .. … is probably out there experimenting on goons or patients or staff."
Your eyebrows furled, taken aback that your boyfriend seemed to be close to such a creep.
-"Why or how do you know this?" You asked, almost accusingly.
-"He used to be a patient of mine here at the asylum. He, of course, continues to escape and go rampant in Gotham." Jonathan carefully placed his hand over yours and caressed your knuckles with his thumb.
-"I didn't know he was institutionalized here.. … then again, I really haven't heard of him at all."
Dr Crane's hand twitched.
He was bothered. Not only that, offended by your comment.
-"Anyhow, we should be safe here. The Scarecrow went to fetch you at my behest; my pleading. He threw me in here, thinking it would be a waste if I died. Thankfully, I convinced him that it would be the same if we left you out there."
-"Why didn't he save Dr Tetch as well?"
This time his hand squeezed yours for a second, reacting to your words.
-"T-the real question is why were you out there taking care of him? That was incredibly reckless and, forgive me, stupid. He- He could've killed you!"
-"Dr. Tetch wouldn't, not even a fly!"
-"Oh, like those mafiosos? Please."
-"Those were on accident."
The psychiatrist scoffed, completely annoyed.
-"Look, he's not a bad person, just disturbed. And I knew the risks perfectly well, but I couldn't just leave him there, someone had to take care of him! He's like a child, he needed me."
-"Hah." The lean man scoffed again while letting go of your hand. -"He's not worth your time, affection, or worry." Crane reprimanded you, his voice practically whining.
-"What do you mean? Everyone deserves to be cared for. I don't see why-"
-"Why?" He chuckled dryly, no hint of actual humor seen. -"Because you have me."
-"I don't understand."
-"I give you all my care. Only you. You only need to care for me too, sweetheart."
-"Are you- .. … jealous of Jervis Tetch right now??"
Doctor Crane slowly reached for his glasses, as if hesitant about the consequences. Once he removed them, his eyes ardently pierced through your soul and mental barriers. His icy blue eyes intensely read your eyes before his lips parted.
-"You're mine, Y/N, and I don't want to share." He stated cooly.
Your brain pulsated. It felt too big for your skull the moment it heard Jonathan speak. It received and knew the words he had freely given you, but it did not understand. Your first instinct was to fight back and contradict those awful words. Part of you hoped that you'd find holes in that sentence and he'd take it back. Clarify and change.
You just didn't want them to be true.
-"And you're okay with what happened with Scarecrow? All the touching and kissing??"
That caught him off guard. Dr. Crane pondered for a moment, he looked so uncharacteristically calm.
-"He was helping you." Was all he commented in a matter of fact manner.
-"What?!?"
Nodding, he gently took your hand again, caressing it as he spoke.
-"Yes. I've noticed it for a while Y/N, but you're afraid of intimacy, and I don't mean just the romantic kind. You're afraid of letting people in too deep, of mutual attachment. The Scarecrow, he… … he's an expert in fear. He knows how to cure you!"
His eyes slowly became more and more expressive, to the point of mania. You tried yanking your hand away, he didn't let you.
-"I know this is out of your comfort zone, scary even."
-"You think??! Jonathan, you-"
You couldn't finish your sentence due to the feeling of hard pressure around your upper body. Arms squeezed the nape of your neck and mid-back.
-"I promised I'd protect you, Y/N. Your well-being is my top priority. Please know I'm doing all of this for you because you matter so much to me."
And then a kiss behind your ear.
Pressed tenderly near the lobe.
It became hard to gulp, your stomach dropped faster than a rock being flung, and your chest felt heavy.
Was this feeling Deja Vu?
Or realization.
-"I'll always take care of you, Y/N. You won't need anyone else anymore, ever. No one will hurt you or leave you. We'll even die together someday, so neither of us need to mourn for the other."
It was realization.
-"Jonathan?" Your voice came out icy and heavy. -"Let me go."
-"What do you m-mean?" His voice had a mixture of confusion, offense, and funny enough, some fear.
-"I said let go." You pushed this time.
He reluctantly did as you ordered.
-"Y/N, you know that I love you so much, right?" He pleaded with his voice, but his eyes exhibited vexation.
-"You don't love me, Jonathan. Not you nor 'Scarecrow'."
-"What are you saying." He spat, cocking his neck to the left.
-"You, Jonathan Crane, also known as Scarecrow, do not love me." You stood up, fists curled, eyes starting to sting.
-” DON’T. D-don’t! … … Don’t say that, Y/N.” His whole body quivered in anger, eyes wide open full of a crazed emotion. His body slowly got up, hands using his knees as an aid to stand straight. -”I-I love you, I do.”
-”You’re delusional, this isn’t love and you don’t actually love me! You're just obsessed with fear and- and I probably was just another experiment to you!” Towards the end of your now yelling, tears were pouring down your face. A heavy chest heaved as it began to gasp for air through hiccups.
-”I said stop!!” Jonathan launched himself at you, his right hand clenching your jaw, while the other held your arm fast, his body weight and grip pushing you against the window seal.
-"I did all of this to help you," The madman cried. -"You faced your fears with me, because of me. I spent hours studying you and why you didn't want to let anyone in. Helped you become vulnerable again, let you feel fear again. Actual fear. You'd never be a complete person without me."
His warm breath fell radically on your face. Both of you waited while tears dried on both of your eyes.
And yet you felt no sympathy for the crazed psychiatrist. Just loathing. Hurt of every variety. You wanted to continue crying, mourn for the heartbreak, but it wasn't the time.
-"Y-you're .. … uh, you're crying?" You almost silently croaked.
-"Because I love you and you're hurting me." Jonathan calmly explained, eyeing your jaw.
Looking away, you saw that if you sprinted, you could most certainly beat him to the door if he was incapacitated well enough.
-"I'm sorry. .. . Maybe I misjudged you." You looked back with a forced smile. -"Either way, what choice do I have? We're bonded together. I… … am yours."
-"Yes." He hummed as he closed onto your lips harshly. -"Mine." He breathed in between kisses.
You move my hands to his chest and slowly make my way to his shirt pocket. Your fingers steadily grip a pen and slip it out, hoping he mistook your movements for simple caressing. Once it’s safely out, you lift you right hand up aggressively and stab his left leg ruthlessly.
Jonathan bellows in pain and stumbles away, eyes wide as pain shot through his leg. By the time he caught his footing, it was too late; you were already slamming the door shut behind you. You hear him scream expletives and slam his fist against the walls as he struggles to run after you with his hindered balance.
Luckily the elevator was on your side. The doors closed as you saw Jonathan and his raving expression come close, he was figuring out how to run with his handicap quickly.
You lean against the walls as they took you to an unknown floor. You couldn’t decide what was worse. Dealing with Joker and his goons, or Scarecrow and his goons. You knew you had momentarily evaded both, but for how long could you do it? How sure were you that help would be on their way right now or soon? You thought about going to Ivy at the Greenhouse, but there was no guarantee that traversing the open courtyard would be safe, but it was your best bet regardless.
The elevator finally stopped, and while the doors steadily parted, so did your breathing.
No one was there.
Sighing, you made your way through the coffin-like corridors of the mental hospital. So plain, rigid, and echo-y. Your mind was a foggy, scrambled mess, but regardless you pressed on. Unfortunately, the further you traversed, the more the walls seemed to close in, figuratively. It was all in your mind.
-” You know, Y/N~” A distant growl rolled throughout the hall. -” True fear is the absence of hope.” It taunted from afar. -” And when I get to you… oh, by the time I get done with you... you'll understand what fear is all about.” He cackled as the sounds of beating footsteps got closer.
That was your cue to start running again.
-”Y/N?~ You weren’t running before? I’m flattered, you were waiting for me to catch up!” Another manic cackle ricocheted off the walls.
Knowing it was harder to hear socks on tile flooring, you take your shoes off and throw them onto a nearby electric industrial mop, hoping it might make him think you ran off to a different direction.
And it seemed like he did take the bait.
It seemed like.
Until you loudly threw the doors open to the courtyard and took three steps outside before getting tackled to the ground.
- "Fear makes you predictable." Scarecrow’s raspy, glottal sounds covered your ears. You couldn’t see much with his mask on, but you could still tell he was smilingly wickedly. "I am in complete control, Y/N. Stop resisting. You're mine. You can’t deny this love I have for you!"
As you struggle to kick him, your resolve weakens as your vision becomes blurry. Images from your past family come flooding in once again. You shake your head, desperate for them to leave. You then see Jonathan join them in a similar bloody near death state, Scarecrow next to him laughing. Both your mother and he revel in their crimes.
You can tell you’re crying, but at the same time your mind is in so many different places, it can’t truly tell what’s going on.
And then Scarecrow motions you to grab his hand and your mother’s. It’s as if he wants you to face your fears. He wants you to embrace those who killed your happy realities. At first, you try to curl yourself in a ball, but then… … you feel someone close.
The two perpetrators are inches away from you, still offering their hands to you. But this time you take it.
-” Embrace the fear of loss, Y/N. Fear isn’t the enemy.” You hear whispered all over your mind.
You look down and realize that your hands are covered in blood, leaving your past hands almost unrecognizable, but at least they aren’t alone. They feel warmth.
You suddenly feel fear in its entirety. It’s crippling.
Overwhelming.
But also safe. Trustworthy.
-” Jonathan.” You call out weakly, your vision starting to fade completely.
That was until a dark figure appeared in front of you. You heard some heavy punches being thrown around and you just sat on the floor of the courtyard, not knowing what was real and what wasn't. Your hands are clasping each other as you lightly rock back and forth, smiling with tears streaming down your face.
-”Mom… I miss you.”
It has been eight years since you left Arkham Asylum. A country life is what surrounds you now. A country life with two kids and a loving husband. You all live a simple life. He’s an equestrian coach. He trains the young and old at the field next to your house. You are the veterinarian that tends to his horses. The two of you make a great pair. Not to mention, you have very smart, popular children. Your family is well respected and loved in your town. One would’ve never guessed what ordeals you had gone through to achieve such peace.
Thankfully, no one ever would. The whole Arkham asylum insurrection incident never gave specific deails on what happened. Some say the deceased list that appeared in the papers a few days later was incorrect. Like always, Batman had saved the day, and he had saved you.
A week later you found yourself in this dusty town, taking care of a gerriatic man with a handsome grandson that was too busy with the family horse business to take care of him. After several rejections throughout the years on your part, you were happily married. The old man had died by then and the grandson had inherited the ranch. He sold part of it to finance your studies, saying that’s what his grandfather would’ve wanted.
Just only two years ago had your family grown by fraternal twins. They were loved very much. It was rare for you to have flashbacks to your past family and their fate. Only once had you wondered if your children would share the same fate as your siblings. One could say you were over your traumas.
But not all of them.
Everyone in town knew how much you hated the month of October. All of the fall, really, but mostly just October. Just the sight of burlap would cause you to start sweating profusely. Soon the town learned to place scarecrows in a less visible place for your sake. They all learned to be patient and kind with you when you saw kids running in masks and your legs gave in in the middle of the street.
You barely spoke of the incident other than to your husband. He knew everything. He did his best to support you. On those nights where it was hard to breathe, he held you close. His love remedied your symptoms.
It was almost poetic how Scarecrow had succeeded in unlocking your feelings. You could feel fear again, but you could also love without reservation. Without him, you wouldn’t have your wonderful family, life, and dream career.
Despite knowing, with a heavy heart, that this nightmare you had found yourself in would never end-
That you’d never stop looking over your shoulder, yelping at burlap, imagining tall, stalking shadows, and having sleepless nights for a while month.
I hope everyone has been well!! Did y'all know it was this blog's birthday last week?? And that we've hit 105 followers?? (I'm releasing the final chapter for Jonathan this weekend btw, let me know if you want to be tagged).
Lots of milestones as of recent ❤️❤️
So I wanted to do something special for y'all ❤️. Y'all have helped me concentrate on better things, and I super appreciate all your kind words 💕
So I wanted to do something new! From Dec 19th to Dec 31st I'll be accepting the following:
Character association: Send me 1-2 paragraphs about you and I'll tell you what character you remind me of from the chosen fandom (:
Ships: Send me 1-2 paragraphs about yourself and I'll ship you with someone from the fandoms I write for!
Song association: Send me the name of up to three characters of a fandom and I'll send you a song for each!
Kiss, Marry, Kill: Choose 3 characters and I'll tell you which I'd do for them or which would do what with you. (Send a paragraph about yourself).
Would you rather: send me questions and I'll answer lol.
A/N: Hello! Hope you lovelies are well! Who knew a full time job would take away so much of my time just like school did ): Fortunately, and unfortunately in some ways, I got COVID for the first time and had time to write. This is the second to last chapter. It’ll get a little intense, so I hope y’all like thrillers lol.
Warnings: Light gaslighting, manipulation, creepy yandere behavior (It is only for entertainment purposes, I do not condone this behavior).
Part 4: https://at.tumblr.com/mysticstrawberryphantom/nightmarish-infatuation-part-4/1plzrhjftfpu
Shock.
Disbelief.
Confusion.
Excitement.
A hint of offense.
Dream-like.
All those feelings hit you more than once during Dr Crane's stay at your home. More specifically, during your first kiss with him.
Or rather kisses.
That shocked you the most. For a week you didn't believe that he actually had kissed you since it had been done in such an impulsive manner. Not to mention that after kissing you he just stared at you until you said his name. To which all he responded with:
-"See you tomorrow."
His stare burned into your memory and would even surface a negative bodily response when it came to your thoughts. You wouldn't call the image of the look he gave you scary, but you also wouldn't call it comforting. Something inside you wanted to run away after seeing him look hungrily at you. It wasn't even a micro expression or feeling you picked up from physical contact. It was what you saw written all over his face clearly. His eyebrows raised, eyes half lidded, and mouth curled.
He wanted you.
The next day you couldn't even look him in the eye. After two hours of speaking to each other while you face every wall possible, Crane suggested you take a break and return to your nurse duties for the rest of the day.
It actually helped you a lot and you felt more at ease, that was until you were leaving the asylum and Crane was at the exit.
-"I just wanted to see you, and wish you a good night." His eyes burned into your skin.
You didn't need to touch him to feel his sincerity. -"Goodnight, Dr Crane."
And that charade continued for about thirteen days. Other doctors assumed you were taking a break after the Joker, you must've gotten scared, so rightfully so, you were resting.
It wasn't until Jonathan joined you for lunch and he spoke to you softly.
-"May I sit here, Miss L/N?"
-"S-Sure. It's free for anyone to take." You muttered before quickly taking a bite.
-"Miss L/N." He called out after a few minutes of silence.
-"Hmphrrph?" Your throat croaked due to your mouth being full of food.
-"You're making a mess." He responded while taking a napkin and wiping your mouth. You were eating a sandwich and some mustard had been taking a free ride in your bottom lip for the last minute.
He also nonchalantly wiped some crumbs near you off the table.
You, of course, flinched at him touching your bottom lip.
-"You could've just told me."
-"I know, and I usually don't even care." Jonathan began. -"I acted on impulse and instincts again, I apologize."
-"Again?"
-"Yes. Our kiss. I can tell that it has been bothering you greatly, I am sorry for causing this emotion based dilemma you are facing at the moment due to my advances." Adjusting his glasses, he finished. -"I will keep matters professional again, and will not seek you after work anymore. I even understand if you ask for a new mentor. I offended you, I should not have done that."
-"I, uh, wouldn't go that far. I'm not offended, and I definitely don't want to change mentors."
He leaned in, expectantly interested in what you were saying carefully.
-"Regardless - I wish you would've given me a warning or asked." You huffed while looking away so he couldn't see your embarrassed expression.
He, in turn, chuckled internally, how could've she not known he was going to kiss her after getting close in like that?
-"I just wasn't ready for that, is all. .. .. we both like each other, I simply wasn't expecting for us to do anything about it due to our work relation. I'm not sure if us changing our dynamic would be prudent."
Jonathan purred in almost a muted fashion. -"You'd prefer we forget that night and continue being work colleagues?" He purposely made his face look sad, disappointed.
-"I would, in normal circumstances, say that would be ideal. But I noticed that even though it's public knowledge, no one has changed the way they behave around us. Nor have any work interruptions, other than the ones by my hand, have occured."
Dr. Crane slid his hand so close to yours so you could feel his warmth near your skin. -"Are you-"
-"L-let's have a trial period. I'm just worried about my studies and how much it would affect them. Not to mention if we have a fight? What would happen then?"
-"Completely understandable, Ms L/N. I concur with your logical thinking." His lips slightly curled into a smile. -"I'm glad to have you be so thoughtful to counteract my impulses. I promise I will follow suit." He then longingly looked at your lips for a moment before leaning slightly forward.
Before you could protest, he spoke. -"May I kiss your cheek? Would you feel comfortable with that in this environment?"
After giving it a thought, you nodded. Dr. Crane then carefully and languidly pressed his lips on your cheek, a smile soon after being felt on the same cheek.
Water was falling at a constant, relaxing rate. It was Sunday night and you were sitting at your kitchen island sipping on apple cider while reading a class assignment. "Reaching Down The Rabbit Hole." Unfortunately, this read was painful as it was interesting. Learning how diseases affected the patients depicted in the book caused thoughts of a sorrowful and aching past to dance in the back of your mind.
Sighing, you placed the book face down, open to the page you were on. Ever since you had started dating Jonathan, thoughts like those not only had become more frequent, but also held more power to sway your mood. Before you could easily dismiss them. But now as if you had a curse, they'd linger around you. Work, home, school. Places you frequented the most.
You got up, mildly frustrated, and walked to the window of your balcony to let your mind and eyes rest. Not that you could see much on a rainy night, but the city lights did look ethereal at times.
And then you saw something flutter in the corner of your eye. Quickly, your hand threw the balcony door open and you jumped outside.
-"Get out now!" You yelled as the other hand searched frantically and blindly for the broom you kept outside. -"Whoever you are!"
-"Ms. L/N, I don't mean to harm you. I just have questions." A very tall, dark figure with two spikes on top of his head and a cape that frapped alongside him as he showed himself.
-"Batman. " You inhaled almost silently. -"H -how long have you.."
-"Not long, just got here, and need to leave soon."
-"I won't offer you anything then." You responded professionally.
He nodded in agreement.
-"These flowers, how long have you had them?"
-"Not long.. .. why?"
-"Who gave them to you?"
-"My boyfriend, recently."
-"You've been experiencing nightmares, or intrusive thoughts, or perhaps old hurtful memories as of late. Correct?"
You nodded hesitantly.
-"Throw them away immediately. . .. Actually, can I take them?"
You hesitantly nodded.
While he picked them up, he said nothing.
-"Tell your boyfriend to change florists." He abruptly voiced loudly. -"Or break up with him."
Confused, you grimaced. Batman, upon seeing how perturbed you felt, before jumping off the roof he nodded kindly at you.
Monday morning after your nighttime visit with Gotham's famous vigilante seemed a little more lackluster than usual. In all honesty, these recent few weeks had been in comparison. Jonathan at first would wait for you to arrive outside of the asylum, always with a present in hand. Coffee, tea, warm hot cocoa, a pastry, flowers, a key chain, a set of pencils, etc. He'd then chastely kiss your cheek, or palm, or hand, or head. You were at work after all. He'd then always ask how you had slept and other menial things about the time you spent apart. For some reason he cared.
He wasn't just like that when he first saw you. He was like that all day. Some would say the Doctor was quite clingy. You, somehow, didn't mind. Though at times you did have to calm him down when you'd say goodbyes. He seemed to hate them, and soon, so did you. If you weren't a psychiatrist in training, you'd probably would've fallen into some type of anxiety with attachment issues. Thankfully you both were healthy professionals, of course. Everything you did together was healthy. Crane's attachment was healthy, though clingy.
Everyone is different.
He was pretty different.
And that would confuse you. You thought you knew he was thinking, but it seemed the closest you got was 50/50 even with your abilities.
These last few weeks were different and confusing.
Jonathan wasn't a clingy, excitable, puppy like boyfriend. Work suddenly had gotten intense. Research had very close deadlines now. You were second place, or less. Hated goodbyes that lasted thirty minutes now were practically non-existent. He couldn't bother to wait for you at the entrance anymore.
Yet, he'd show up with flowers, the flowers Batman took away, and smother you with affection at home. He'd then leave and at work acted like he hadn't missed you at all.
You were patient, however. Stress did that to people.
-"You're early, Y/N." Dr Crane commented cheerfully, well cheerful for him, when you walked into his office.
-"I didn't have to water the plants." You carefully said.
-"It did rain a good amount last night, hmm?"
-"More like Batman stole my flowers." You muttered.
He jumped up from his desk.
-"Batman?" His teeth chattered.
-"He told me to break up with you if you didn't find a new florist." You voiced monotonously.
Suddenly his lean arms wrapped forcefully around your shoulders and abdomen.
-”I am vastly glad you are safe.” He heaved slowly into your ear. -”D-did he do anything to you?” His voice shook in an uncharistic manner.
You placed your hands over his trembling appendages. His embrace felt needy, almost an angry jealousy. Protectiveness over someone he considered a fiend.
-”He didn’t do anything. He’s just Batman, and I’m not a criminal so-
-”I-I’ve been neglecting you recently. You were lucky last night that nothing happened. But if Batman is showing up at your residence, who else will? There’s no way I can leave you alone tonight, or the rest of these following nights at least.”
Jonathan turned you around, still embracing you. You now perceived he wanted to keep you safe, as if you were to precious to lose now. Like it would be huge waste?
-”You’ll stay at my residence tonight.” He ordered.
-”Excuse me?” You blurted out, blushing. -”I-I’m not ready to do that.” Your face looked away so quickly, you almost gave yourself whiplash.
-”No? Then I’ll come over to yours as always. I’ll leave early and pack.”
-”T-That’s not what I meant.” Your face now facing the ceiling, hoping the blood would leave your face. -”You don’t have to do that.”
-”I’m not taking any chances, Y/N.” He voiced sternly while his hands gripped your shoulders. -”Don’t worry, I’ll just stay with you until I know it’s safe.” His right handly delicately caressed your right cheek while he grinned, as if he was satisfied with the situation.
-”It’s too soon.” You mumbled, defeated.
Chuckling softly, Jonathan gripped your chin and placed a peck on your bottom lip.
-”There’s nothing to fear when you’re with me, I’m always respectful and I’ll always protect you and your feelings.” Another kiss was planted, one that clouded your judgement.
Nodding, you patted his chest and mentioned that you two should get to work.
Ironically, and most certainly tragically, his presence at home, though physically comforting, did not lessen any of the anxieties you had been feeling as of late. Instead, your resting heart rate could rival that of a machine gun. You couldn’t explain why, but those nightmares worsened. You’d wake up in cold sweat, and refuse to go back to sleep. After a couple of nights, you caved in and let Jonathan share your bed, respectfully of course. That helped a little. His embrace was like a remedy, though not one that brought full recovery, just enough that you still depended on it.
You wished it would just end.
Jonathan Crane on the other hand wanted to live with this bliss for eternity. You were finally reacting to his fear chemicals. Little by little the same heavy doses from before were having heftier consequences on your psyche. That on its own was a treat for him, however this treat soon became a feast when you began to depend on him. His months of preparation for this moment had paid off, even if it had been excruciating for him. A simple use of the push-pull technique had left you vulnerable, wondering if you were truly important to him as he would so easily profess in your presence.
It made you question reality.
You, of course, had put on this facade that you didn’t care, that you were understanding. It had all melted away once he spent time in the one place you knew to be your safety net. Now you needed him, even if you hadn’t realized it yet.
His experiment was almost complete, and soon you two would be bonded irreparably and inseparably, is such a way that any separation from him would deal a heavy blow to your psyche.
He, of course, had promised you he could never let harm come to you, so he’d always be there by your side. Dr. Jonathan Crane would be close beside you to take care of you forever.
How lucky you were to have him.
How lucky he was to have you.
How lucky he was to have you.
How lucky he was to have you.
He chuckled. He loved saying that in his mind. It’s because he loved you.
You were all consuming, almost as much as his research, and yet Crane was the only one being nourished from the relationship. It fed parts of him that he didn’t know were famished. Thankfully they were beginning to be satiated now.
Thankfully he had you.
And no one could take you away from him, not the Warden, not Batman, not-
-”Ladies and Maniacs, this is the Joker speaking!~” A voice shrilled through the speaker system of the asylum. -”Pardon the interruption, but I just wanted all of you to know that I’m in control of the madhouse now! It was getting boring, so I thought a little party would liven things up! It’s time us patients were able to roam these halls freely with all the lovely toys we want.”
A/N: Sorry I disappeared for like a month there 😔 I have been writing though! Just not chapter 4 haha but the following chapters, for some reason. So those will come out soon. And, no, I'm not jinxing myself lol.
Nightmarish Infatuation
Part 5: https://at.tumblr.com/mysticstrawberryphantom/nightmarish-infatuation-part-5/n5vf45pvavi6
Warnings: mentions of alcohol, dubious con on y'all's first kiss.
Characters: Jonathan Crane, Joker, Harley Quinn, Hugo Strange, Warden Sharp, mentions of Poison Ivy and Mad Hatter.
To say that you've been sleep deprived as of late was an understatement. Yet somehow you felt happier and fuller than before. There was something about being in college again that lifted your spirits, how it helped you expand your mind. And then there was your mentor at the institution, Dr Crane. Though strict and methodical, he cared and pushed you in such a way you found yourself becoming a more capable woman in the field of psychology.
So much so that today you were sitting across the famed unstable criminal, the Joker.
You were there to get a taste of what the most dangerous criminals would do to get into your head, all the while Jonathan stood nearby, ready to interfere at any moment. So, in reality, you were feeling pretty calm in the interview room. All you were doing was practically vibe.
He truly does have an affinity for smiling, be for himself or others, you thought to yourself while sitting pleasantly.
-"Hey toots, are you not going to ask me one of those introspective questions to get to know me? I can tell you what my childhood was like - all you have to do is ask." He baited after a few minutes of silence and scarce small talk.
-"Is that what you want to talk about?" You answered back.
-"It is if that's what you want to talk about." The pale skinned patient said in a flirtatious tone, attempting another bait.
-"Not particularly. There's nothing I'm interested in asking."
Taken aback for a moment, the Joker went through an array of emotions. Offense, therefore anger, and then amusement realizing he could still have fun with the given situation.
Grinning mischievously, he spoke cooly.-"Then can I ask you some questions?"
-"Sure." You smiled peacefully.
-"Who's your favorite patient here?"
-"Oh! That's a good question. … .. hmmm. I'd say either Dr. Pamela Isley or Dr. Jervis Tetch, you?"
Joker interrupted your sentence by laughing, therefore missing the part where you asked who was his favorite patient.
-"Those two are more than polar opposites, care to explain what about them allures you to regard them as your favorites?"
-"Hhhmmmm. I really love nature and so does Dr Isley, not to mention she's very astute and clever. I like talking to her -"
You paused to pass some saliva, while the man sitting in front of you wheezed happily in a quiet fashion, well, quiet for him.
-"Dr. Tetch? I find his rhymes innocently adorable, and to be fully honest, he's the one that I feel the most pity towards." You finished.
-"They let you work with the nutter? But you're a woman."
-"Well, key word is let." You huffed, annoyed. -" Warden Sharp banned me from any further visits two weeks ago because he asked me if I could be his Alice."
This time Joker burst into laughter. -"You're actually quite upset about that, aren't you, Sweetie?"
-"We were progressing at a quicker pace than anyone had before me! Not to mention I didn't think there was any danger since I don't really look like his old Alice's.. .. But he's literally been locked away in a closet with barely anything, so of course he's been suffering heavier delusions as of late. We just needed time and patience. His schizophrenia is manageable, but no one wants to put in the time or effort."
You throw your right hand up in the air with force at the end of your lecture while your left hand stayed relaxed on the cold, metal interview room table.
-"I think you're downplaying his sickness, sweetheart. Rookie, mistake." The Joker answered with shrugged shoulders and a long smirk. -"The mind is stronger than will power."
You shook your head harshly.
-"I'm not downplaying anything, and I'm fully aware of the mind's power. I respect the control it has on the body."
A hearty chuckle came from the man across. -"Quoting Dr. Crane now?" His laughter echoed and bounced off the metal walls. -"Funny he says that so much when he himself has so little control when it comes to something he wants."
You frowned profoundly, disagreeing with the patient. -"Dr. Crane is one of the most poised and checked individuals I've ever met. He keeps his emotions under wraps so well it's usually difficult to know what he's thinking."
-"No, no, my dear. It's all a facade. You'll see it crack soon!" His laughter began to fade. -"Why, I have no idea how he hasn't yet…"
You held your breath as the chemically pale man stood up and hunched towards you, across the table, seemingly reaching for your left arm.
-"How he has kept his feelings and hands to himself for almost a year with you by his side every day..."
You shot up from your seat, the chair making a loud screech from the force. The Joker's right arm had made its way from your forearm to your wrist, which he had suddenly gripped.
-"You're enthralling, darling, ehehehe."
He didn't really mean it, you realized as he touched your arm. He was done with the session and just wanted someone to get you out of there.
It's not because he hated, or feared, or loved you or any emotion of the sort. He was simply bored with your sincerity.
Another rookie that'll die or leave soon, he thought in regards to you.
They'll break her soon.
-"What do you have there, Joker?" You chuckled with a sneer, while moving your left arm back, revealing a fake detachable hand.
-"Pfffftttttt." You covered your mouth, knowing you couldn't laugh so openly or he might kill you. -"Got you." You grinned modestly.
Wide eyed, the Joker surprisingly laughed alongside you with no semblance of anger.
-"That was a handy trick you got there." He continued the joke with a pun before resuming his roar of laughter.
And then the door to the interview room flew open aggressively.
-"Out! Get out of here right now, Y/N!!" Dr Quinzel shrieked as she pushed you towards the exit. -"What are you doing flirting with the Joker??!"
-"Wha -?? I'm not!" You spat, annoyed, at a senior staff member for the first time. -"How was that even flirting??" This time you faced Dr. Crane looking for backup.
-"Dr. Quinzel, please try to calm yourself." He voiced soon after with a sigh, one hand gripping the bridge of his nose while the other placed itself on her shoulder. -"Unhand Ms L/N's arm, please. Do not harm her."
Scoffing, Harleen threw your arm away from her and crossed her arms angrily. -"Of course you'd take her side! Ugh, you are unbelievable. You didn't have enough with seducing all the thugs upstairs, you had to go for the most prestigious criminal down in high security."
-"Dr. Quinzel, I'm not sure why you're being unreasonable, but I do not flirt with anyone here. Warden Sharp can attest to -"
-"Warden Sharp!! Yes!! He'll put you in your place!!" The psychiatrist shrieked suddenly while dragging you into the elevator and soon after into the Warden's office.
Begrudgingly, Jonathan Crane followed with no words or expression. You knew his silence at this time meant he was displeased with the situation and did not want to show it. It was his way of remaining in control of his emotions.
Not until after bursting into the Warden's gaudy office were you able to obtain your own footing; all thanks to the arm or Dr Strange, who somehow had great reflexes.
Both men peered at the three of you in the office with curiosity, thankfully the Warden wasn't angry for the intrusion.
Before anyone could accuse or defend themselves, Dr Quinzel began to squeal about the 'horrifying scene' she had just come from with the Joker and yourself. Dramatically recounting each one of your actions and downplaying the Joker's, the Doctor practically burst into tears due to the emotional hardship she was going through due to your rash actions.
You found it extremely weird that no one found her behavior odd. It sort of seemed like the young doctor was in love with the inmate. An outlandish conclusion, yet, it didn't seem so far from the truth. The whole time you were being manhandled by Harleen, you had felt her raging jealousy and protectiveness over the Joker.
-"Y -You need to discipline her, Warden! She needs to understand that this asylum isn't a matchmaking business." Dr. Quinzel finished, still squealing.
Huffing in response, you told the two gentlemen to check the tapes if they wanted the real story. So they did, which caused Dr. Hugo Strange a good laugh but a big frown from the Warden.
-"I believe that you weren't intentionally flirting, but I can't say that you weren't being careless in the session. You need to understand, Miss Y/N, that men can take a simple smile as flirting. You cannot be so casual in these sessions! We already have the Jervis Tech situation to deal with, I cannot have you collecting death threats due to infatuation from every inmate."
While the Warden blabbed on, your annoyance grew, as if this had been your fault at all. You were actually glad you diffused the Joker situation with a gag, but instead you get blamed for flirting?
-"I'm sorry, Warden, but I wasn't unintentionally flirting either. That's not how flirting works." You paused to inhale before continuing to give him a piece of your mind.
Instead, Crane interrupted you during your breath, seemingly for the better. -"She's correct, Warden. To flirt you must either find the person attractive or want the other person to find you attractive. Ms. L/N wanted neither from the Joker." He voiced decisively.
You nodded powerfully at the other two men whilst folding your arms below your chest.
-"And how exactly do you know that?" Dr Quinzel asked accusingly.
-"Because we have feelings for each other." He retorted swiftly. Smirking, he took his glasses off and wiped them with a handkerchief that had been inside his suit pocket. -"We actually have a date scheduled for tonight, if any of you would like to join us, we can make it a group date no problem."
His eyes slowly fell upon your hardened gaze. Slyly, he nodded for you to confirm his lies. You knew he was doing you a favor, and he wasn't lying about you having feelings for him. You weren't sure how he had picked up on them, but you had made sure they weren't noticeable even to you. What was also puzzling was him confessing to liking you. He had told you he'd keep things professional, yet here he was not only openly confessing, but accusing you two of being okay with dating within the workplace.
-"Y.. yes." You breathed out slowly. -"We were thinking of keeping things professional, nonetheless." You added, reminding Crane of his promise.
-"Yes, gentlemen, and we will. We both have demonstrated these last few months very good self restraint and professionalism at work." Jonathan began. -" As a matter of fact, we did so well that Dr Quinzel thought Ms L/N didn't have feelings for anyone. Apologies for the misunderstanding, I'm afraid we take our workplace so seriously we ended up deceiving you all and causing problems."
Hugo Strange laughed heartily.
-"And here I thought you were incapable of being interested in anything but your work."
-"She is part of my work." The Doctor uttered through his teeth at Strange.
His face immediately fell in disappointment and a hint of pity. Jonathan gave him a smile that bore no teeth and dismissed everyone as if his group hadn't been the ones intruding.
-"So where is the date going to be?" Dr Quinzel dryly asked as the three of you walked out of the office.
-"Oh? Are you taking up on the offer of a group date? Who will you bring, the Joker?" Jonathan voiced nonchalantly as the two of you reached the elevator while the other psychiatrist just stood there.
-"Tch. Ya have problems, Crane, big ones. As if she'd ever date ya."
The elevator doors then closed.
-"I apologize for all of this Ms L/N, I did not know it could get so out of hand."
Sighing, you responded. -"Who could've predicted that. It was a wild ride from the start."
-"Yes.. .. I apologize if I made you feel uncomfortable. I don't think there was a better way to go about defusing the situation."
-"I, uhm, it's… .. Well, what's done is done. Thank you for stepping in and helping."
-"Of course. .. .."
And then the two of you rode the elevator in silence. You two then walked to his office, and you gathered your things into your backpack in silence.
You nodded a goodbye to the Doctor who was quietly reading at the desk.
He nodded back, except that at the end of the nod his eyes lingered on you. You knew he wanted to say something so you stood in front of the door and waited patiently for him to collect his thoughts, sort them, and give you the spark notes version.
-"Miss L/N." He gradually began. -"Did any of your friends accept your invitation for that jazz night at the bar near your home?"
-"N-No." You hesitantly answered. Normally you would've asked why he was curious, but something in your gut told you you shouldn't. Not if you wanted to keep your work relationship with your mentor to stay the same.
And yet, your heart raced with excitement at the possibility of dating the Jonathan Crane. It wanted to ignore all the baggage your mind knew came with the commitment, not to mention the scandals of a mentor and mentee relationship.
-"I apologize for being so forward, Miss L/N, but if you feel comfortable, would you mind going with me?"
Your mouth began to open, to answer his request. Perhaps it wasn't forward to just hang out with your mentor after work hours. He had confessed to Warden Sharp, but that didn't mean you two had to date now. Maybe he just wanted an alibi. Going out as friends was totally-
-"As a date?" Jonathan finished.
Totally not okay.
-"Uhm- Doctor Crane, we don't have to go out tonight like we told them, it's fine. I'm pretty sure Dr. Quinzel will move on and the other two will forget about it."
-"I'm not asking to cover for you. I'm asking because I finally feel like I had the opportunity to share my feelings and would like to know what you thought about them."
His face was as sharp and unmoving like a gothic cathedral, and just as beautifully intimidating. You gulped, hoping to control your beating heart.
Why not accept? How often does one have their crush ask them out?
Besides, you knew that if you didn't accept this one, he'd keep asking. So mayhaps it was better to go in the small date and then reject him afterwards. Well, not reject him, but ask him to wait until you had your doctorate. It just didn't sit well with you to be dating your mentor, it was a can of worms waiting to explode.
-"Sure!" You lightly agreed -"Let's meet up there around 9pm." A fake smile stretched your cheeks before you reached for the door.
-"See you then, Miss L/N." He answered with a real smile.
The bar was actually very quaint and calm in nature. The people there chatted quietly even when there were no live performances going on. It gave you and Jonathan ample time to chat, which to your surprise, was easy to do. Not that you had expected this date to crash and burn in every way possible, but you were aware of your mentor's lack of social graces due to spending all his time researching. And yet, the two of you were enjoying a good laugh after having a thorough debate on fast food and if it really was convenient for everyone.
To your delight, he also shared an affinity for jazz music. Jonathan knew exactly what etiquette to show during a live show and even knew the words to most songs. He didn't sing, but you would once in a while catch him mouthing the words to himself.
You pinched yourself every time you caught yourself letting your guard down during the date. For example, right now you did so as he walked away to get the two of you some new drinks. There was something about even the way he walked that tickled your brain.
-"Say, sweetheart. You having a good time? I saw your glass empty so I took the liberty of bringing you a new drink."
You blinked twice, slowly, before turning your head to see a short, muscle ridden man placing what seemed to be a Martini next to your right hand while taking Crane's seat with a smirk.
-"Oh.. .. I appreciate the gesture, but my date went to bring us drinks."
-"Well, appreciate it all the way, sweetie."
-"Hmph."
-"Say, can I just say that you look just like… my next girlfriend?"
-"I'm sorry to say, fortune teller, but I'm not interested. Take your 'liberty' to another woman if you'd like so it doesn't go to wa -
-"Gosh your eyes are gorgeous!" The stranger exclaimed before leaning his face into yours.
-"UHM!"
CLANK
The sound of glass being set down roughly on the table was heard.
-"Sir, please step away from my seat and my date." Crane slightly hissed.
The muscle-y, albeit short, man smirked dryly. -"Beat it bean pole, a woman like her deserves a real man." He proclaimed while suddenly tugging you from your seat towards him without any care. You flew into the table and then his beefy arms, knocking the drinks over without shattering the glass.
Before you could angrily defend yourself, Crane spoke, his nostrils flared.
-"A real man isn't someone who treats women the same way their deadbeat father did their own wife, especially after vowing to treat women better than his constantly jail- bound father." Was the beginning of an array of psychological blows on the stranger who slowly backed away from the both of you.
-"Next time remember women could care less about your testosterone riddled 2 week old muscles, and would rather talk to someone with a stable job."
-"D-Doctor Crane!" You exclaimed as the two of you sped out of the bar, Jonathan leading you outside. You were appalled at his abrasive behavior on the man, he hardly deserved that much roasting on his person.
-"Are you hurt? Tell me what you're feeling." He eagerly asked once you were out and to the side of the main entrance where there was barely any noise.
-"Oh.. .. I'm-I'm fine. Thanks for asking." You responded, stunned.
-"Truly?"
You nodded affirmatively with pursed lips.
He brushed his hair backward with a heavy sigh and the two were quiet for a moment.
-"I apologize, I failed to realize that you're so beautiful to be left alone safely. I had a hunch, but tonight was evidence that your looks can attract trouble."
At first your instinct was to say sorry, but you then grimace profusely before speaking. Why would you say sorry for something that wasn't your fault? That man chose to flirt and you did nothing to provoke him.
-"You're saying it like it was my fault." You pouted angrily. -"You're sounding like the Warden right now."
Jonathan's head turns to the right, like a parrot when it's curious, and then coyly hums in response with a smug grin.
-"You can't trust most men, Miss L/N. Let's be more careful together in the future."
Puzzled, you tilted your head. Was he saying he was one of the few men out there that was trustworthy? Well, he had been very kind, helpful, attentive, and-
-"Oh no, Doctor Crane, look out!" You exclaimed right as a taxi heavily splashed the young psychiatrist with the use of a puddle nearby.
Your warning had been in vain, he was now drenched.
-"Aish." You breathed out, exasperated. -"I am so sorry?"
-" Don't be, it wasn't your fault." He lightly smiled while looking completely disgusted with his situation.
-"Uuuhhh, let's get you dried up in my apartment. I have some clothes that probably will fit you, some of my dad's old clothes he refuses to take with him."
-"I would greatly appreciate that, Miss -
-"You can call me by my first name outside of work, Doctor Crane."
-"Thank you, Y/N. Please lead the way."
It was funny that he said that, since to you it seemed like he knew where he was going while the two walked a few minutes before arriving.
Upon arriving at your apartment, Crane felt incredibly underwhelmed. Minimalist decorations and furniture were displayed throughout the whole house. Not to mention that you had no pictures of anyone on your walls or simply anywhere for that matter. Not even any sign of a pet either.
-"Here's a change of clothes and a towel. I'm sure they'll fit well enough for you to get home comfortably." You smiled sheepishly. -"The bathroom is right there."
Nodding, Crane gratefully took the clothes and came back to you presenting him with some warm Jasmine tea.
-"Funny, the clothes fit you well but don't suit you." You lightly giggled at the sight of the strict Doctor in grey sweats with the 'Black Sabbath' band logo square in the middle of his chest.
Jonathan's eyebrows raised in slight indignation, thinking you had commented on his physique rather than the style of clothes he normally wore.
-"Or maybe it's the shock of seeing you in something other than a suit." You finished.
He, of course, took that better.
You had taken off your coat and the psychiatrist was finally getting a full glance of your outfit. You hadn't taken it off at the bar because it was a little chilly and then you just simply forgot you were wearing it. His eyes peered at the half tucked in, multi colored paneled blouse combo with straight jeans and beige small heels. The blouse's paneled patterned made your shoulders and jawline look more straight as well as give an illusion of a smaller waist.
The two of you lightly chatted over the tea, but Crane's mind was elsewhere. It teetered from processing your lack of decorations in the picture department and the way you looked tonight. He had come to the conclusion that if you had any fears that could be manipulated they would be related to interpersonal relationships.
You were always so careful when it came to people and letting them become part of your life. He had his suspicions when you mentioned a few weeks ago a night out with your friends. You had been so excited and accidentally confessed that your friends didn't have much time for you anymore due to significant others, which you claimed to understand.
Why didn't you make new friends? You shook your head at the notion with a smile.
It was odd for your warm and kind nature. The loving muse of the asylum that everyone adored had trouble making friends outside of work.
Snickering softly, Crane followed you with his eyes as you placed the dishes in the sink and picked up the sponge to start washing the mugs.
You really looked incredibly nice tonight to him. It wasn't the outfit that seemed to be inviting him, but the way you gave the outfit an alluring factor by how you moved and owned the clothes.
He moved closer, telling you to let him help. You, of course, told him to sit down and not to worry. The two of you achieved a truce with you washing and him drying.
Once done you smiled at him genuinely happily. He shockingly smiled back.
And now it was time for him to leave. Both of you walked towards the part of the kitchen that connected to the hallway entrance. You gave him his drenched clothes in a plastic grocery bag, to which Crane thanked you and placed it on the ground, leaving you confused. Wasn't he about to leave? Why was he just standing there? You too, just stood there with zero explanation.
Your presence near the kitchen's low light entranced Crane. It was as if he was bewitched and your magic was pulling him closer to you. Without saying anything, he slowly, yet gently, backs you into the closest wall. His eyes darting to several parts of your face.
Without looking at it, you knew his chest was rising rhythmically but quickly.
Once there was nowhere for your feet to tread backwards, his left hand lifted and was placed next to your head, palm open against the wall. His other hand reached for his glasses and expertly folded them into his pant pocket. A hindrance he didn't want on his face. For some reason, he always felt he couldn't express himself properly with them on, like they were a part of his facade.
Doctor Jonathan Crane wasn't sure why, but inside his head it was screaming for him to keep getting closer to you until there was no space left. Who was he to argue with his instincts? So he did, and suddenly he felt plump skin on his lips.
A kiss. You were kissing, but for just a second. The Doctor was so shocked from the sensation, that your first kiss was a simple peck.
But it didn't end there.
Just before you could even blush, Crane practically rushed in for another one.
And then another, followed by one more.
By the fifth kiss you stopped him by looking away. You were breathlessly catching some air, not because the kisses lasted long, but from your own shock.
To say you were blushing was an understatement, and the same could be said for the psychiatrist. He stood there, just looking at you, amazed.
Jonathan Crane had just realized he could have more than the pleasure of seeing you afraid.
He could have you.
All of you, to himself.
Whatever feeling this was you were giving him was something he wanted more of. It was different from the pleasure he gained from inflicting horrors via his toxin or his words. Instead this delighted him, satisfied a hole in his body he didn't knew existed.
Can you write a fluffy but maybe yandere! Gyutaro x f!reader? I'm so obsessed right now!!
A/N: Sorry for the wait lol I literally finished the series a few days ago. It was VERY good. I hope I did Gyutaro justice.
Warnings: Light Yandere behavior. It is only for entertainment purposes, I do not condone this behavior and if you are in a relationship like this, please reach out for help. I have resources if you can't find help with your close ones.
The groan was heard louder. It seemed to belong to a man's. For some reason he seemed to be suffering from something.
Thrown away.
Disposed like trash by someone who was supposed to take care of you till they died.
No, you shouldn't think like that. He only did that because there was no other way out. Mother's medical bills were too high in interest that no one in your family could live in peace. Your other four siblings still had lots of life ahead of them while you had turned 18, an old maiden. Your only saving grace being how young you looked compared to your age.
The lady of the house bought the lie that you were 15 when your father told her. She happily parted with enough money for even a new hospital to be made, just because you could play the shamisen and koto already.
You didn't feel like you were worth so much at the moment though.
You had been thrown into the attic with no food a few minutes ago because they had no vacant rooms just yet and it was too late for you to eat.
At the present you were crying silently, a terrible habit you picked up at home. Terrible because everyone thought you never cried, therefore thinking you were stronger than what you really were. What was another burden more if you hadn't cried yet?
It was suffocating.
Almost like the moist air in the attic. The air was so heavy that even the mice didn't want to move around.
It was so silent.
That was until you heard rustling from the farthest corner from you.
-"Hello?" Your hoarse voice called out after a few moments of hearing the movements. It sounded like the one making the noise was either on the other side of the attic, or really stealthy.
-"W-were you sold today too?" You tried bonding with them.
Nothing, but the rustling became more careful, and even some muttering was carried over to your ears, though you couldn't make it out precisely.
-"HungryYy." A voice wavered around.
How frail, you thought. How parched must they be for their voice to crack so much?
-"They left you without food too? I have something to share if you'd like."
A low groan was barely heard.
-"Don't be shy! I hope- I hope I'm not scaring you! Please, share these star candies with me. " You kindly called out. You just didn't want to be alone all night in an unfamiliar place.
-"Share these with me then?" You tried again.
-"I'm not sure where you are, but I'll leave some next to the shoji screen."
You finally pinpointed where the voice resided.
-"no, NO." It began. -"Stay away."
-"I'm sorry if I'm scaring you, but I don't mean any harm. I'm just a young girl, I can't really do much to you." Why were you being so kind to this stranger? Perhaps because you wanted them to return the sentiment.
-"I'm not scared. " He vocally pouted with a scoff at the end. -"As if I could be scared of someone so weak."
Big, bony fingers clawed at your hand and took the candy. His hands were cold, that concerned you. You wanted to hold it to make it warmer.
-"No. I don't feel like hearing screams today from a weakling like you. Leave me alone."
Despite the very serious threatening tone to his words, you couldn't help but feel some tyoe of care for this stranger. What did he mean by screams? His voice could barely even stabilize itself, there's no way you were weaker than him.
-"I'm not sure what you mean by that, but if you're not in the mood for food.. .. .. would chatting be ok?"
The shoji screen shook rapidly for a moment, leaving you to guess that the person behind the screen had either sat up or shifted his body to face you while still sitting.
-"Chatting?"
-"If you would please. There's still many hours to the night." You softly pleaded.
-"Hmmmmm." The stranger began in a softer tone. -"My voice doesn't bother you? It isn't comical to you??"
-"No," you shifted your legs to a different sitting position. -"Laughing or judging things that can't change are a waste of time and cruel."
-"Yes." The man breathed out as if he had been underwater for hours. -"Yes! You're right."
-"What's your name?"
-"Gyutaro, yours?"
His name includes the word pimp??, you thought to yourself.
-"Y/N. ... Were you born here?"
-"Did my name give it away?" He sneered. -"If you think my name is a sign of how cursed I was since birth, wait till you meet more of me."
-"No one is innately born a curse, please don't speak of yourself that way." You oddly snapped at him, emotions welling up inside. -"Sorry, I didn't mean to speak brashly. It just breaks my heart when others speak about themselves that way."
The shoji screen shifted once again and a silhouette of a head with a wavy half bun hairstyle peaked quickly. You couldn't see him well, since the moon was against your face, but he did.
-"You're pretty, you can't say that. I hate that you said that now when you don't even know what it means to be born cursed."
-"Beauty can be a curse too. I've always been treated like an object, spoken to like I was cattle. Like I don't have value other than my face. No one really cares for who you are and think it's okay to treat or touch you anyway they desire."
-"Tch." Was all Gyutaro said for a minute. -"You're right though. The world is harsh to the ugly and the pretty. My sister, the prettiest woman out there .. … .. she's experienced what you just said, and I couldn't protect her when it happened."
As he spoke, you stealthily made your way over and once he had finished, your right hand plopped around the screen with a few candies in your hand.
-"I'm sorry to hear that." You softly began but quickly continued when he heard your voice so close. -"If it makes you feel better, I have my eyes closed. U-until you tell me to open them. Ple-please, help yourself."
But after hearing your groggy voice apologize so many times, he caved.
Or perhaps you just wanted to feel someone else's hand in yours. You wanted to feel less lonely.
-"Gyu-Gyuotaru? Would you feel okay holding my hand?" Your voice began to quiver.
-"Don't give me orders, weak human. Who said I want your trembling hand near me."
You sniffled in response, trying to hold tears in.
All you wanted was some semblance of comfort. But perhaps you were asking for too much from a stranger.
-"S-sorry." You whispered.
-"If you're going to cry about that- ugh!" Suddenly a lightly spotted arm appeared and grasped your right hand firmly, almost a little too hard.
-"Th-thank you." You softly wept in gratitude.
Scoffing, he asked what your story was.
You spilled all of it. And by the end of it, he was holding both of your hands.
After you finished, you both sat in silence, grasping tightly each other's hands as he began with his story.
At the end of his, right when you could feel like in an hour the sun would come up, your body felt heavy. Your head would bounce and lightly hit the screen, to which Gyutaro would scold you to be careful.
You were then whisked away, never to be heard of in the entertainment district. Your father never looked for you, nor did your new house matron. But Gyutaro did so without fail every time you tried to return to be with humans. He'd get angry, but understood you missed them, so he was patient with you.
-"Keep your eyes closed."
-"Why?"
-"Just do it!!" He hissed.
-"Hmm kay."
Suddenly, you were embraced and held in what felt like hefty, muscular arms of a tall man. You lay in them, coddled like a baby.
-"Do you want to leave this place and live a different life than the one handed to you?" A snake-like voice whispered into your ear.
-"Yes." You softly responded while nuzzling into the stranger's arms. How long had it been since anyone had held you close like this?
-"Then I'll take you away from here and take care of you until you die." His silvery breath danced around your neck with every word.
Your eyes shot open the moment he finished speaking.
Green. Green hair and tinted skin. Yellow, beady eyes lovingly staring into your soul, as if they were hungry. A crooked smile that could make any child cry from terror.
-"Don't worry, if you don't want to die, you don't have to." He offered, thinking you had gotten scared from that, not the part where you'd be with a stranger for the rest of your life.
-"Now, let's go." He proudly said before hearing your response.
-"Gyutaro!" You began to protest, scared. You went from one ownership to the next. You didn't want to be trapped with a man that you had just met!
-"I know, I'm ugly." He wailed. -"But I can tell you loved me before knowing my appearance," Gyutaro's voiced hungrily. -"Your- your hands told me so.. ...I know you can love me after seeing me... ...You do have the rest of your life to get used to it." He laughed heartily.
He was patient and loving till the day he never came back. Leaving you as lonely as the first night you met him.
A/N: Hey! I think I've hashed this whole thing out and it will be about 6-7 chapters. If you'd like to be tagged, let me know in the replies (: Or just stay tuned every week, that's about how long it takes me to pump a chapter out lol. Thanks for y'all's support ❤️
A/N: Hey lovelies!
I started this to get some creative juices going but it turned into a mini series I want to make. I’m really sorry to ke
A/N: Sorry I disappeared for like a month there 😔 I have been writing though! Just not chapter 4 haha but the following chapters, for some r
Warnings: Jonathan Crane being a little manipulative and creepy.
Poison Ivy sat in a secure therapy room looking at the glass mirrors, eyes half closed, legs crossed. You entered the room with a wide, albeit nervous, smile. Your right hand wouldn't move from your big cargo pant like pocket located on your scrub top. The clipboard tucked into your right armpit wobbled around threatening to fall out. Promptly, you scurried to the table and with your free hand, placed the clipboard on the metal surface.
Your patient eyed you up and down rapidly, wondering if interns were becoming less and less capable of being normal humans capable of simple tasks.
While Ivy judged you, you rushed to her side and kneeled down next to her. After eyeing the cameras placed above, you exhaled loud enough for her to hear.
-"Look what I found." You muttered barely even moving your lips.
-"Huh?"
And then a darkling beetle was suddenly shoved unto Ivy's face.
-"I saw him in the elevator and immediately picked him up. I thought you'd appreciate it." You once again smiled.
-"Uhm…" Was all she could answer you.
-"Want to hold him? He's very good. Darkling beetles are smarter and therefore less skittish, I feel like."
-"Sure…"
-"Great! Here. Before Dr Crane comes in, he might rebuke me if he sees the beetle."
Raising a red eyebrow as she handled the beetle near your hands, assuming that was the camera's blindspot from your weird behavior, Ivy observed you. She found it so odd that you could be so- innocent? The little beetle slowly crept around her hand making her turn her attention elsewhere.
-"Cute, huh? I love their flat feet, I feel like if we could hear their steps they would sound like flip flops, hah."
-"I guess…" Ivy began, still incredibly confused as to why you were so genuinely happy about an insect and why you were acting like you two were pals. -"Why are you doing this?"
-"Oh! Sorry." Your voiced whispered with a little raspy-ness. -"I thought you might appreciate it, but I guess you're a plant girl, not a nature one." You looked a little embarrassed and attempted taking the beetle back.
-"I do, but I can't say I'm not taken aback. I thought you'd be a psychiatrist in training. I was told one was coming today. Are you not she?"
-"No, that's me!" You answered preppily. -"I'm doing my doctorate, but my B.S is in zoology and conservation." You attempted to explain.
-"That's odd." The inmate answered while letting the creature switch from one hand to the next. -"Why are you here? I mean, why didn't you become a zoologist?"
The golden question you always tried to dodge. You shifted uncomfortably while kneeling, making your position go from being supported by your feet to your knees. Scratching the back of your head you shyly looked Ivy into the eyes.
-"Personal experience with someone I loved made me realize that I needed to help others like her with my talents." You freely gave up, still in a hushed tone.
-"Miss L/N, please tell me you're not showing Dr. Isley the beetle you found in the elevator after I expressly asked you not to, not knowing if it was carrying spores." Dr. Crane rebuked, as you had foretold, after entering the room abruptly.
His right hand lay flat in front of him while his fingers retracted and extended, motioning for you to hand the insect over to him. You silently obeyed him. He placed the bug in a personal handkerchief and placed both in his upper suit pocket. His piercing blue eyes communicated a "you know better" as you both sat down in front of Ivy.
-"Don't be harsh on her, Doctor. The beetle had no spores, it probably had been in the asylum for while~" The green woman cooed rather seductively, unsuitable for the sentence or situation.
You smugly smiled at Crane, but said nothing.
Sighing, he pushed his glasses up.
-"Miss L/N made me aware of that, but I didn't want to take any chances."
-"Hmmm~. Well, my thorough Doctor, what aspect will you inspect about me today~?"
_______________________
Although you had just made great progress with your first patient in terms of trust, your nose crinkled as you left the room and walk down the hallway towards the elevator with your mentor.
-"Why are you frowning, Miss L/N?" Crane asked dryly, facing forward. -"I believe you did excellent today, especially with that little plan of yours. It truly worked."
-"I didn't know you were such a great actor." You lightly teased. -"But thank you, I'm glad she warmed up to us. The little beetle bit we did helped a lot."
-"In reality she warmed up to you. She's a very good judge of character when it comes to genuity. She felt that with you, it was obvious."
-"Haha no way, she got very comfortable with you! Dr. Isley never stopped flirting so intensely with you."
-"Ye-es…." Now he was the one grimacing. -"But she flirts with everyone."
-"Sure, but she was totally into you." You argued back, a little out of jealousy. You wanted to hear him say that he wasn’t interested back, which wasn’t going to be reality.
-"Be what it may, she's not my type." He spoke as the two of you had reached the elevator and were now waiting for it to arrive.
Your jaw dropped. Not his type? She was gorgeous, smart, albeit an eco-terrorist, but she could keep it under control. So many men would fall for her, but not Jonathan Crane?
-"What's your type then?" You absentmindedly muttered.
-"Hmmm." The Doctor began as they stepped into the elevator and the doors closed. -"I'd have to say someone like you."
His icy blue eyes rested on your person fiercely. They moved around a little, quickly taking in your features as a type of reassurance.
Trapped. You felt trapped for a second. Your body was hypnotized for a few seconds, all it did was let Crane stare as much as he needed.
And then your cheeks were the first to respond, with your entire face coming soon after.
It was painfully obvious to you at that moment that you were blushing, even up to your ears, and it was too late to hide it.
So to play it off you exhaled loudly, hoping he thought you were red from the lack of oxygen.
-”Sorry, I forgot to breathe for a second. It happens sometimes when I concentrate.” You lied. -”What were you saying Doctor?”
Crane chuckled softly, his right hand covering his mouth, not wanting to offend you. He knew you were lying and the way you were trying to hide how stunned you had become a few seconds before was the cherry on top to this treat.
Your eyes, when you had frozen, showed that they wanted to flee from the situation, but that they were also happy.
That’s why you hadn’t done anything.
Had any other man said the same thing, you would've immediately turned them down, that's just who you are.
-"Perhaps it was a rhetorical question, and that's why you weren't paying attention to an answer.. .. But I said that Pamela Isley didn't catch my attention with an explanation of you being what 'my type' is." The Doctor cleverly voiced again clearly.
-"O-Oh I see. Thank you for making that clear.. …. Uh-uhm, it's good that she isn't because that means we can continue treating her. I really do think that we're a good fit and-"
Jonathan smirked as you rambled on while the two walked out of the elevator and towards his office. You had heard him say it again, and yet, you still didn't turn him down in any shape or form, not even ambiguously.
Y/N L/N likes me. She must.
His proud heart beat faster as it realized that. What an accomplishment! It was going to be so much easier to get her to open up about her fears now. Not that Jonathan Crane didn't enjoy a challenge, but he also liked not having to spend too much time on one test subject.
-"Don't worry, Miss L/N. I keep things professional despite personal feelings, you can feel safe with me." His words practically winked at her while he smugly smiled directly at her, interrupting her long train of words.
The door to his office then swung open and his hands motioned her in and towards a familiar seat at the side of his desk, where the two had been working closely together on school work or asylum paperwork.
-”Alright, let's speak about your fears, Miss L/N.” Crane pretended to sound tired, letting a false sigh escape his lips as to come off disinterested. -”The more dangerous patients will try to extort and manipulate you with them, so let’s work through them so they’re at a manageable or even unnoticeable level- ah.” The last sound he made was a soft exaggeration of the letter ‘L’, a habit Jonathan had picked up without realizing when he was trying to keep his emotions under control.
-” I didn’t realize fear could be weaponized.” You pondered. -" Are we-?"
-"Discussing this for future visits you will have with dangerous patients such as today's."
-"Ah ok, sorry. Please, go ahead." You nodded.
-”Many will try to manipulate you via your fears, and yet few succeed, it can even be considered an art. The Bat-Man.” He spoke that name while emphasizing the ‘T’, ‘M’, and ‘N’. -”That happens to be his number one tactic towards those he terrorizes.”
Although his face denoted his usual calm, annoyed boredom, you could tell that this particular speech behavior he was showing was rare. This was the way he showed emotion. The intense way he spoke, highlighting some consonants as if each of those letters had hidden thoughts in them. Even his gaze, through those deceivingly half-lidded, bored blue eyes, seemed to cut through pretense and communicate his fire within.
While Crane continued to speak on the topic of how Batman used fear, you could not pay much attention, his micro-expressions were distracting you too much. You even felt a twinge of guilt for feeling so fascinated with them.
Fortunately, Dr Crane took your own microexpressions to mean that you were highly interested in the topic, not his face.
That is until you cut into the conversation.
-”I’m happy to say I’m not actually afraid of anything, Doctor.” You smiled politely, but proudly. You could just skip this step! Wasn’t that better for the both of you? Especially since Crane always seemed to be an incredibly busy man.
But you did not receive the same enthusiasm as you expected.
-”Is that so?” He began dryly. -”I find that hard to believe. Humans are driven by fear. They marry because they are afraid to be alone. Later on they will have children because they are afraid to leave no legacy behind. They go to the doctor! .. .. Because they are afraid to die.”
Nodding your head slowly you agreed with him. -”That’s true, but not true for me, and I suspect for others too. Being sick is annoying, so I try to get better as soon as possible. Marrying someone that you love seems like a dreamy achievement, and children? They can be love personified.”
Still not giving in, the psychiatrist pushed further. -”Would you not be afraid to lose those loved ones? Perhaps you never marry or have children for that reason. Are you not currently afraid to outlive your family, Miss L/N?”
Inhaling a deep breath, your shoulders rouse while your eyesight quickly darted to the side. A look of regret and sadness.
-”Not anymore.” Your voice was barely heard. -”Actually .. .. .. I think I don’t have fears because I’ve faced them all. I’ve been through the worst and have come out fine each time. I’ve moved on. So, fear? It’s something you just look in the eye, smile, and leave it alone. It doesn’t help, it doesn’t comfort, it’s not even a constant in life. It comes and goes, so when I see it approach me, hoping to infect my brain, I wave goodbye and walk away. In the end, fear can become a choice.”
Jonathan Crane immediately shot up from his seat, hiding most of his face in his right hand. He apologized as he excused himself to go to the small restroom that resided inside his office. You mistook this attempt at composure for empathy. You imagined he was so moved, perhaps even to tears, that he was embarrassed and had fled to his restroom.
But nothing could be further from the truth.
What Jonathan Crane was experiencing at the moment was a condemning mixture of anger and excitement.
He was livid! Your audacity made his insides boil. Fear was a choice?? One of the most primitive emotions known to the animal kingdom??
But he was also ecstatic.
He looked up at the mirror while huffing quietly with a wide grin. His left hand gripped the small, not so white sink, while his right gripped his shirt.
Jonathan Crane was truly overwhelmed with excitement. His face exuded red from the rush of blood to his face, an attestation to his adrenaline rush. He had now found a challenge that he knew would take perhaps a lifetime to overcome, but he was sure he could do it.
He was going to make Y/N L/N feel fear again. He was going to be the only one to savor it.
Hi!!! First of all your an incredible writer and I loved that Otto story you did that you tagged me in cause it was just amazing and one of my favourite Otto fics!!
Also would I be able to request for Otto?
The reader is cold and so they wear one of ottos turtlenecks/something warm of his and when he sees the reader he gets heart eyes and can’t stop smiling.
You’re awesome and lots of love 💕
A/N: Can I just say that the request I wanted to hurry to most for was yours?? Your kindness really makes my day 😭😭😭 I'm so sorry it took so long!!
Also, please send me as many requests as you'd like 💖💖 I am so down to write as much Otto as I can lol This was such a cute idea too!!
Warnings: None. Lots of Fluff.
Winter in New York was the pits for someone like you who had grown up in the south. Winter clothing was also a sort of mystery to you. If it was cold all you needed was a warm jacket because the inside of buildings was usually scorching. It wasn’t the case here. Everyone dressed in layers that could be easily taken off if necessary and if not? You stayed warm.
Such was your luck right now. You were visiting your long distance boyfriend of three years.
It was April. You had thought that by now it wouldn’t be so cold.
Tough luck, it snowed the very next day you showed up to visit.
So now you were at your beloved’s apartment shivering while trying to prepare him some lunch. Your nose was so cold that your lips would inadvertently move upwards and shield the tip of it. It sort of helped a little.
Not really.
DING DING DING
The dryer alarm sounded loudly from the laundry room nearby. After thinking for a moment, you dashed in there and grabbed the first warm, thick garment you could lay your hands on. A large dark brown turtleneck.
Not bothering to switch shirts, you slid the obviously bigger sweater over your head.
It was pure bliss. Its warmth was like a cat’s belly on a warm summer’s day.
Its smell? Just like your sweet Otto’s. You could practically imagine him hugging your entire frame from just the fragrance.
After a few moments of enjoying the sweater, perhaps a little too much, you went back into the kitchen and continued to prep.
Coincidentally, you hadn’t been the only one that had heard the dryer’s alarm. Dr. Octavius’ head slowly sprung upwards, the noise having brought him back to reality from the work he was so immersed in. He stretched on his chair after placing his digital pen on the desk next to his tablet. His eyes trailed a path on the wall until they hit the digital clock he was looking at.
12:30pm it read.
And as if on cue, his stomach rumbled.
Leaving his seat with an eagerness to see you and possibly a warm meal too, to calm his stomach, he left the study and began walking down the small hall. As Otto got closer, soft jazz serenades overpowered the sound of his steps. Smiling, he slowed down and crept the rest of the way, hoping to catch you dancing.
And he got more than that.
It had never occurred to him that seeing you donning one of his old turtlenecks could entice so much tenderness inside.
Instinctively, his right hand reached for his heart, clutching his own turtleneck. The other hand covered his mouth, he couldn’t risk any sound coming out of there. This moment was too precious.
How your frame swayed around the small kitchen and his clothes followed so obediently, clinging to you how he loved to do himself. Otto loved how you had folded three times his sleeves only for them to still overpower your hands. Not to mention that your knees barely peaked underneath the sweater.
A siren’s call wasn’t as mesmerizing as you were at this moment for him.
Not being able to resist any longer, your boyfriend let himself get closer.
-" Aaah. And what do we have here." A voice cooed as it entered the kitchen. -" An imposter? A clone? .. .. Nooo~ A thief!" Arms grasped you from behind and pulled you into a swaying embrace that went with the music's tempo.
A little embarrassed, not sure from what, you blushed and jokingly asked. -"Are you going to call the cops?" Your voice carried into Otto's ears softly, as it petitioned for freedom.
Before answering, he turned you around and affectionately scanned how the sweater looked on your smaller frame. -"Hmmm no." Otto smirked. -" You're too cute for jail. Not to mention, I wouldn't be able to leave you there for long, so I'd pay bail to have you by my side as quickly as possible. I'd lose money."
-" Smart choice." You giggled. -" Villainy has once again triumphed. Guess I'm free to steal as many turtlenecks as I can."
-" As many as you like, dear." He tenderly kissed your lips as he leaned down.
A/N: This chapter is for exposition, explaining, etc. The chapters that follow will be a romantic psychological thriller. I wouldn’t call it love tho lol
Warnings: Mentions of filicide, a childish joke.
Part 1
A/N: Hey! I think I've hashed this whole thing out and it will be about 6-7 chapters. If you'd like to be tagged, let me know in the replies
Activity time from 2pm to 4:30pm was your favorite two hours and a half of the day at the asylum. You got to interact with all the mildly or barely sick patients and be with them during their finals weeks at Arkham. Well not all of them in the low security wing left. Very few were lifelong patients, people who other institutions refused to house. You hated how they discriminated against those who were a little more work than the average dementia or schizophrenic patient.
Take the old lady you had just 'danced' with a few minutes ago. The moment she met you, she mistook you for a prince- the most charming of them all. You laughed when she proclaimed it, you weren't the most feminine woman out there, but you also weren't the most masculine. This lady had her episodes, but for the most part was harmless, just sick.
Now, when it came to the mafiosos admitted here, then you could understand why no one wanted to take them. Surprisingly though, you got along with them pretty well. At first you were confused at their attentiveness towards your person from day one since there were a few more better looking nurses around. In all fairness, most of their personalities weren't of the kind variety and they could be very self centered. Not that you weren't attractive in a sense, but you weren't to die for per se. Just your average pretty.
Almost generic.
Yet, the inmates took a liking to you quickly before you had even spoken to them.
Now, it seemed like you all were good pals in the most professional sense possible. You were kind to them, but you always tried to never over step boundaries- and you hadn't. According to the Warden, everything you did was "permissible" despite other nurses reprimanding and reporting you.
One could say you were like the asylum's mom or big sister.
-"If you go to sleep with wet hair, you have a higher chance of getting sick, and that's a fact." You sincerely reprimanded the inmate for the brash behavior he was proudly teasing you about. -"You should stop showering right before bed."
He chuckled at you, amused that you even cared.
-"I believe you need to check your facts on the matter." A man's voice mocked from behind.
It was Dr Crane, but you still hadn't memorized his voice yet due to the lack of interaction.
-"Fact check these nuts, lol." You absentmindedly retorted without looking, thinking it was an inmate teasing you.
Snorts and restrained chuckles from the mafiosos were barely heard underneath Crane's seething response. They didn't want him to hear, or there would be consequences.
-"Excuse me??"
-"I said fact check these-'' You turned with a smug smile that soon retracted into your mouth, lips both being bitten internally. -''DR. CRANE." You exclaimed.
Is she finally scared? Scared of the consequences? The sadist happily asked himself until he saw her smile.
Giggling, you apologized. -"I thought you were a patient, I'm really sorry for using that language with you, Doctor."
Aghast, Jonathan smoothed out his suit, mostly disappointed her reaction had been so nonchalant. Warden Sharp must truly be so fond of the girl that she didn't have to worry about her behavior towards her supervisors.
-"Sorry." You said while getting up from your seat. -"What can I do for you?" Realizing he must have business with you.
Clearing his throat before speaking, he muttered. -"I wanted to congratulate you on being accepted into the psychiatric program at GU."
Smiling politely, you thanked him and expressed gratitude for his help, letting him know you couldn’t have done it without him.
-"Well, I am only mentoring you. The series of interviews they had with you is all to your credit.”
-”Interviews?” Your face drained.
-”Y-yes, there are normally three.”
-”I only had one…” You looked down at the ground, upset. Dr Crane could tell that you were the type of person that liked to get by through your own merits, instead of connections and handouts.
-”You must’ve blown them away.” He offered with a plastered smile.
-”Hmmmm, uhm… are you coming to the faculty dinner tonight?” You changed the subject, embarrassed and annoyed at this world’s bureaucracy.
At first the Doctor wanted to say no, instinctively he would’ve declined, but since tonight’s dinner was about her in celebration and introduction to the other psychiatrists. It would be interesting to observe her.
-”I am.” His faint smile continued.
A relief washed through your expression, an odd response to an almost stranger RSVPing an event where other strangers would attend. But something within him leapt seeing you react positively to knowing he would be there tonight.
-”Great! I’m excited, I’ve never been to a Japanese Steakhouse.” Your eyes sparkled.
-”Oh.” Jonathan said, confused why she was telling him that. -”Most people like it.” He responded flatly.
-”I like most food, especially when it’s free.” You chuckled.
Blinking twice, Jonathan began to understand why you had such a hold on many of the patients and workers here.
-”Anyways, thank you for congratulating me, I have to get back to work.” Both of your thumbs pointed at the patients behind you. -” But, uhm, I’ll see you this evening!” You interrupted his thoughts with a friendly smile, the type one gives when wanting to make a good impression.
-”Sure, see you Miss L/N.”
__________________________
-”Doctor Crane!” You happily called out as the restaurant staff shuffled the Asylum doctors into the big room made for parties or other get togethers, two long tables waiting for about 10 people so sit at them.
-"Miss L/N." His voice offered in response with serenity.
-"H-how are you doing?"
You seemed a bit frazzled, perhaps from all the stimulation from a new environment and new people you wanted to impress to gain a spot in the Asylum's unseen social hierarchy.
-"I'm doing well, how about yourself? Hungry?"
-"Absolutely! Do you mind if we sit together?" You asked while moving in sync with the company that were being ushered towards picking a seat, obviously trying to avoid someone.
Jonathan nodded, and pulled a chair out for you before sitting down himself . You two sat towards the middle end of the long table, the Warden choosing to sit directly in front of you with Dr Young to his side. Seconds later, Dr Quinzel sat to your right and in front of her Dr Hugo Strange. You felt intimidated in an instant. The smartest and most prolific of all staff sat by your side, perhaps because you had chosen to be with Dr Crane, one of their caliber.
-”How has the start of the semester treated you, Ms L/N?” Doctor Young asked with a friendly smile after everyone had received their food.
-”Well!” You began, grinning. -”Though it’s throwing me for a loop because it’s nothing like when I went for my bachelor’s.”
-”What was your undergrad in?”
-”Zoology with a minor in conservation ecology.”
-”Oh.” Penelope Young began. -”What brought you into the field of psychology?”
-”A personal incident in my life … uhm, made me realize that as much as I love nature, I needed to use my talents to help people.”
-”Your ta-”
-”Do you think people are ruining nature and they all need to be gone?” Dr Quinzel interrupted loudly.
You grimaced at the question and shook your head. -”No. Well, I do think people, empresarios to be exact, are ruining nature. But getting rid of apex predators completely is an incredibly stupid solution that is proven to not work. Have you heard of the wolves of yellowstone study?”
-”Yes, they reintroduced wolves and the park practically reincarnated into its former state. The wolves control the deer population, so plants can grow as normal, thus affecting all insects, water supply, small mammals, etc.” Jonathan answered while dipping one of his rushi roll pieces into soy sauce.
For a split second you thought he looked incredibly attractive.
How he answered something you were passionate about so nonchalantly made you heart feel a certain way, but only for a few seconds, Dr Quinzel’s roaring laughter derailed your train of thoughts.
-”I think you should see Poison Ivy, you would-
-”Pamela Isley.” Warden Sharp interrupted harshly. -”We do not use their aliases, Dr. Quinzel.”
Scoffing she ignored him. -”I think you could at least make her feel like you understand her. Maybe that would help her recover.”
-”Speaking of which, when are you going to let her start seeing patients with you? Or alone? She does seem pretty capable and trained.” Dr Hugo Strange added to the conversation for the first time.
-”Soon, I just need to train and check her psyche.” Was all Jonathan offered as he continued to eat, not making eye contact.
-”You have the most charming Doctor as your mentor, Y/N.” Harleen Quinzel mocked.
-”He’s very kind and devoted to his craft. I’m honored to have him help me out.” You concurred, making it seem like you were oblivious to the jab.
In response everyone near earshot laughed, except Jonathan Crane. Instead he was confused looking at you, who flashed an exceptionally energetic smile at him. Eyebrows furled, he pushed his up glasses.
You kept the smile.
He finally smiled back.
You nodded in satisfaction and began eating again, this time letting your thoughts run free while the others engaged in conversation , deciding not be a part of. They were talking shop after all, their research and other things that didn’t need your involved input.
As you thought to yourself, you remembered your past. Small slivers of it. Just the painful parts, like your mother and brother’s funeral, the press and its awful headlines calling your mother a crazed killer.
The empty shell of a father you had to look after you after the whole incident.
Your guilt.
If only you had hugged your family goodbye that morning you would have known. If you hadn’t been so selfish and more patient with their mental illnesses.
You could have known. Your talent, a sort of touch telepathy mixed with clairvoyance, would’ve known.
Once you touched someone, and you opened your heart and mind- you became vulnerable, you could tell exactly what they were thinking. Not only that, you could gauge how they would feel if a certain event occurred in the near future. You could formulate their behavioral patterns in your head, understand why or what they would do something and from there have a good guess as to what they’d do in hypothetical events.
That is why you were so good with patients. You knew exactly what they needed after a few moments of simply touching them.
-”Miss L/N?” Crane called out while placing a hand on your shoulder momentarily to bring you back to reality. -”What are you thinking so intently about?”
Your head snapped towards him and your eyes met his in confusion.
-”Just reminiscing, I’m sorry, was anyone talking to me?”
-”No, but I noticed you had become quiet and imobile for a while, so I thought I’d check in.” He voiced truthfully.
A light blush danced on your cheeks as the Doctor’s icy blue eyes stared into yours, searching into your soul. You then saw those same eyes begin to close a little as his face offered a smile in your direction right before he turned to continue eating.
Interest.
When Dr Crane touched your shoulder that’s what you felt. Genuine mental attraction towards your person.
You were flattered. How did this aloof genius even have time to think about a random nurse like yourself.
On the other hand Dr Crane was actually feeling annoyed during the whole dinner. No matter what he said, your reactions were similar, smiles.
You acted practically the same around prestigious doctors, except you spoke a little more formal and tried your best to be polite.
What? Did you hold all people to around the same value?
That’s stupid.
You obviously favored those who made you feel comfortable, not a shocker.
What was the real shock is that the rest of the evening you seemed to gravitate towards his sour presence. He knew perfectly that he wasn’t being the most pleasant person, but you kept coming to his side and talking to him, smiling.
And he couldn’t help but smile back.
Perhaps you liked difficult people. Maybe that’s why you worked at the asylum. Others were boring?
That didn’t seem to be true though, or you’d gravitate the most towards Dr Quinzel and Strange. They made you uncomfortable, but why didn’t the Master of Fear do the same?
-”Goodnight Dr Crane.” You wished the tall man with a sweet smile.
-”Goodnight.” He began absentmindedly. -”Are you walking home?” His tone of voice on the befuddled side.
-”I live a couple blocks away, would be a waste to call a taxi.”
-”In Gotham?” His right eyebrow raised.
-”We’re not in the Narrows.” You chuckled. -”Plus, I’ll be fine. I’ve done it multiple times.”
-”Brave.” He muttered.
-”No, no.” You chuckled again. -”Stubborn. Plus, it’s just people, people aren’t scary.”
This time Jonathan choked on his saliva momentarily and then cleared his throat, incredibly intrigued.
-”Sorry, that was insensitive to our patients and their victims at Arkham.” You offered sheepishly.
-”Everyone has different fears…” Crane adjusted his glasses. -”Mind if I walk you home?” He asked with the intent of seeing your so called bravery in the dark of the night.
You blushed.
-”Sure.”
-”Perfect. Let me help you with your coat.”
A perfect gentlemen and an innocent girl simply flirting at the end of a nice dinner.
That’s what the other doctors saw.
Good for Jonathan, he finally is interested in something other than his work, some thought. All he needed was a nice girl to open up, others muttered.
What they didn’t see was a predator corralling his prey.
Can we get a soft!Norman Osborn x f!reader fic where they cuddle during a thunderstorm?? :)
A/N: What's up?? I have graduated college and have so much more time on my hands lol. I hope you like it! Feel free to request anything more <3
Warnings: None.
Hawaii was such a dreamy spot for any vacationers, romantic intentions or not. The weather, the locals, the man-made and natural sites, the glistening ocean and stars- practically everything. Just walking around felt like you were on top of the world with your husband. So why was it that you were currently gripping the sheets of your bed while your entire body trembled? Wasn’t right now supposed to be one of the most romantic times of your life? Norman had surprised you, his wife, with a three-day trip for your fourth wedding anniversary.
And, well. This was quite the surprise.
A thunderstorm your first night there.
An unprecedented one at that too. Your weather app hadn’t even said anything about it raining or thundering when you had checked during lunchtime. Meteorologists really needed to get new technology to predict the weather.
To be honest, it wasn’t a big deal. I mean, if you had been anyone else. There were even some people that wished for this weather, it somehow lulled them to sleep? But you? It scared you to the bone. Each time you saw a flash, your jaw clenched, hands flew to your ears while your mouth began counting to ten in hopes that your own voice could drown out the echoing bang of the thunder.
What was worse, you hadn’t found a cure to the whole ordeal. Norman lovingly had taken you to therapy in hopes of finding the root of the problem, but none was found. Instead, the therapist had suggested that if possible, for you to wake up your husband and have him accompany you during the episode. It was true that his loving words and warm embrace calmed you down a lot, but you felt guilty waking him up each time this happened. Especially when he was such a busy, sleep-deprived scientist and businessman.
Instead, you had found out that if you hugged a warm pillow, it had a similar effect, the trick was warming the pillow up.
Carefully, you staggered out of bed with the pillow towards the hotel’s microwave. Due to your shaking, taking off the pillowcase took longer than expected. You hoped your hushed yelps didn’t reach your resting husband’s ears each time a bang filled your ears.
-”That pillow case has a zipper, love.” A groggy voice called from behind you as warm hands took the item from your hands with care. -”We don’t want indoor flashes and bangs, now do we?” it lovingly chuckled.
-” Norman.” You breathed.
-” Let’s go back to bed, sweetheart.” He tenderly cooed while guiding your back gently towards the empty mattress.
While your body slowly moved with your husband’s touch, your mind raced with thoughts of guilt and shame, that was soon interrupted by a soft kiss on your left temple.
-” You first.” He hummed while lifting the sheets for you to climb into while soon after following suit. -” I started to feel cold without you, Y/N. My body realizes quick when my wife isn't next to me.” He joked while slowly encircling his arms around your shoulders. One of his arms stayed there while the other moved slightly up until his hand reached the back of your head. He then gently pressed your head to his chest, his hand stroking your hair up and down slowly.
Another kiss to your temple came soon after.
-” I’m not mad, Y/N, or disappointed. Or anything like that.” Norman expressed a few moments after, realizing your body was still very stiff. -” I love you too much for that silliness.”
-” You ought to be at some point.” You muttered with a pout. -” It would be normal and healthy too.”
Chuckling softly, this time he kissed your forehead. -” But not over something like this. You can’t help it and you’re not hurting anyone at all.” He paused to give you two more kisses. -” I love you, the whole package. If you were perfect, I couldn’t love you, only worship you as an unreachable goddess. I’m so glad you aren’t.” He squeezed softly. -” I love loving you too much, sweetheart. I’m so lucky you are human so this unworthy creature can hold you like this as night.”
Norman’s breath caressed your ears while he spoke. Once he finished, he continued to stroke your head and hold you steady, with an occasional kiss to any part of your reachable face. Once he noticed that your body relaxed, his hold on you became looser. You saw his face lower to be on par with yours, an expression of pure fondness written all over his face.
Your eyes watered a bit as you once again realized how lucky you were to have someone who loved you so much in this life, no matter your silly fears or flaws.
-” I love you so much, Norman.” You whispered intensely.
-” And I am so lucky for it.”
You didn’t see his wide grin, but you certainly felt it as he pressed his lips against yours for the whole duration of all the kisses.
I started this to get some creative juices going but it turned into a mini series I want to make. I’m really sorry to keep the asks waiting, I’m tackling those for sure next!! I hope you like it.
Warnings: None .. .. yet, jk. There is noncon dosing in small amounts of the fear toxing towards your character.
Pairing: Jonathan Crane x Reader
Part. 2
It would be a safe assumption to believe that those with PHDs in any subject would be the highest experts the world could offer. One could think nothing could stump them and yet, it happens more often than we common folk realize.
Dr Jonathan Crane was going through one of those moments.
As much as humans like to think of themselves as unique, they really can be placed in 5 categories, the amount of fingers we would normally have on one hand. Pretty absurd, but extremely comical at the same time.
Phrases like, "You're one of a kind", "I'll never meet someone like you again"- To a cynic like Dr Crane, that was the world's longest running joke that never got old.
That's why, to an extent, his lifelong work on fear was an easy one. Everyone was afraid of something, even him, the Master of Fear. You just had to figure out how to trigger it through words, images, or chemicals. The latter was quicker, though using words was his preferred method when he needed entertainment.
So why was it that this one nurse exhibited none? She could get startled, but one couldn't exactly call that fear, it was just a reaction to surprise.
Not to mention she had the whole asylum wrapped around her finger, in a manner of speaking. She didn't really, of course, but she easily could. He wouldn't be surprised if one day he came into work and Ms. L/N had enacted a coup d'etat with the aid of some mildly insane criminals and all the actually sane, who claimed to be disturbed with no evidence.
They just loved her that much.
Somehow.
Dr. Crane felt that her manipulative people skills could even rival his own, and it surfaced many unpleasant emotions in himself.
At the present moment he was observing her through thick, reinforced glass as he attempted to eat lunch, his fork picking at and practically destroying his asylum-provided salad.
-"I have vicariously administered my toxin to her lightly at least a handful of times, and she exhibits no fear." He mumbled annoyed, an eyebrow arched up, twitching sporadically. -"Why." A growl came from his throat as his eyes followed your preppy movements while the toxin laced towel swung in your left hand.
You spoke with colleagues and patients alike with your signature energetic and welcoming grin, no visible changes to signify fear could be seen. After a minute or two of swinging the small towel around, you placed it around the back part of your neck so your hands could be free. The irritated psychiatrist's perceived two patients who belonged to the mafia whisper to each other smugly. They were part of the sane group of patients that hid at the asylum thanks to him to avoid jail time.
One of them approached you asking for said towel.
Blinking with a hint of confusion, you reluctantly gave it to him, but then frowned with disappointment as he sniffed it while walking away quickly.
-"Idiot." Crane hissed quietly while his fork burst through a cherry tomato.
The toxin didn't go into effect immediately, but a few minutes later the mafioso began to clutch the table in cold sweat.
-"I'm drowning!" He gasped out loudly while one of his hands clawed at his neck.
You immediately rushed to his side, placing a hand on the forearm that clutched the table and another at the clawing hand, lowering it while speaking softly.
-"Hey, hey." You began while placing firm eye contact. -"Look at me. Where are we? What's your name?"
To which the mafioso slowly began to respond after squirming a little. Smiling calmly you continued with the questions, until he was brought back to reality. You patted the man's back lovingly, like a caregiver would, entirely platonically.
-"Tch." The Dr. scoffed so loudly, spit almost left his mouth.
You really did have a hold on this asylum.
Any other nurse that would've shown affection would've been let go on the spot. Touching patients? Taking care of the situation yourself instead of getting a doctor or some medication?
Preposterous.
Yet, you had special permission to do so.
-"I don't know what she does and how she knows how to do it, but it works, so let her do what she wants." Warden Sharp had vehemently ordered a week into you having been hired.
The Dr's recollecting thoughts were interrupted by the buzzing of the security doors opening.
-"Oh, Dr Crane." L/N stated breathlessly, the mafioso at her side, leaning on her shoulder. She looked at the patient and then at the Doctor again with a hint of exasperation. -"I know you're on your lunch, but would you mind-
-"Of course, Ms L/N. It's no problem at all. Let me take him, please." He offered as he stood up.
While the patient transfer occurred Jonathan Crane could see something in L/N's eyes he had yet to see. Contempt but with curiosity, she was angry he had not acted until spoken to but yet, kept an open mind as to the causes.
-"Ms. L/N, thank you for aiding him so quickly. The moment I saw you calming the patient, I knew I had nothing to worry about, your skills are amazing. I apologize if I came off too.. .. apathetic." Crane adjusted the mafioso's arm on his shoulder. -" I rarely get to see you in action, I am sorry to say I was mesmerized. .. .. Taken aback that my colleges weren't exaggerating. You have a gift."
Distrust but flattered.
Her E/C eyes said it all.
Nodding, she thanked him, not really sharing her famous smile with him as she easily did with all the others. -"Hopefully I am able to hear that as a colleague of yours in the near future instead of an assistant so I am more deserving of said praise."
She left quickly.
Too quickly for his liking.
His mind ached for her to stay, so it could study her words, her micro-expressions.
Who are you L/N. What is hidden in that head of yours? Are you simply just immune chemically or all around immune to fear? If the latter was the case, then she'd be immune to most if not all emotion. Normally those who are the most caring and loving are the most fearful. They have so much distress in their lives they constantly seek to relieve others of theirs.
So why
Why-
How and when could he find time to study her?
His ravenous thoughts were soon interrupted by the rustling of the not so delirious mafioso sitting in a chair near his office desk. Jonathan had even forgotten they had arrived at his office and he was supposed to be observing the unintentional test subject.
A test subject was a test subject after all.
-”Y/N?” He groaned several times in an interval of three minutes.
-”You seem to be close to nurse L/N to be calling her by her first name.” Dr. Crane scowled.
The man slowly looked towards the annoyed voice while sitting up on the chair he had been flung in.
-”Most everyone else, Doctor. Especially us Falcone men, she takes care of us well.” His groggy voice taunted the langy man that sat across from him.
-”What-” Jonathan began carefully. -”What can you tell me about her? Does she not fear you all? Find you lot repulsive?”
-”Not Y/N. She has real sympathy for us, ya see? A very rare trait in these nurses if ya ask me. How is one gonna be cured with their treatment?” The mafioso then heartily laughed, his body still sprawled on the chair like a drunken man. -”Did you know she was the one that advocated for more recreational activities for us in good behavior? That music and exercise time that started a few weeks ago was her. Some of us with a stellar behavior record even get to accompany her and other nurses around and serve our fellow inmates. Bring them pillows and that trash to the less fortunate, more insane.”
As the mafioso rambled on about changes that Crane had no idea had even been implemented, his fingers tapped on the wooden desk. As helpful this information partly was, it wasn’t what he was exactly looking for. He especially wanted to learn in what way he could observe Y/N L/N closely.
-”Wait-” He interrupted. -”Repeat what you just said about Warden Sharp and Miss L/N.”
-”He’s thinking of sponsoring her for her doctorate? It’s a campaign move, we all know that. The idiot hasn’t done anything yet because none of the female doctors want that responsibility, all two of them.”
-”Dr. Young is a very busy woman and Dr. Quinzel is still too new for that responsibility.” He muttered in response.
-”The old coot is too much of a jealous pervert to let her go with any of the seasoned Doc’s wings. He obviously knows they’ll spend hours together every week.”
-”Hmmm, yes. I see.”
The mafioso caught wind of Crane’s interest and chuckled.
-”He’s not going to approve you, Doc. You’re one of the worst candidates, being close to her age and all.”
-”He will if she’s the one asking him. Actually, why don’t I go talk to her right now and tell her that we should go tell him she has found a mentor right now.” Jonathan’s hands twitched as he stood up and gripped the doorknob. Smiling to himself while thinking, his thoughts were once again interrupted by the patient’s chair rustling.
Sighing, he looked at a glass of water he had placed near the patient, and with a deadpan face, splashed the man’s face. In response, the mafioso squirmed around in a panic, but did not yell.
-”Good enough, you’re cured. Get out.” The Doctor voiced dryly as he grabbed him by the collar and shoved him out of his office and into the hands of the guards situated outside.
Rubbing his hands together, as if he was cold, which he was not, Crane made his way to find you. And find you he did.
Confused, you came when he called you and listened intently as he explained that he had heard from the Warden that you had been approved for sponsorship. Your eyes blinked intently when the Doctor stated his interest in being your sponsor and that Warden has expressed excitement that he was willing to be the sponsor since none of the other doctors were available at the moment.
-”Warden Sharp was frightfully ashamed that he has had you waiting this whole time. Had I known sooner you were waiting a sponsor, I would’ve helped out sooner. I used to teach at Gotham, I, at times, miss helping students find their path in the field of psychology.”
You observed Crane’s face as it expressed sentiments you didn’t think were possible. They even seemed a little strained, but you felt like his words were sincere, he indeed wanted to be your sponsor.
-”Thank you for being willing to help me out, Doctor Crane. It’s an honor, I’m in debt with your and Warden Sharp’s generosity.” You carefully voiced with a kind smile.
-”Perfect, let’s report back to him. He wanted to know right away since the deadline closes soon.”
-”Oh! Of course. Thank you again Dr. Crane.” Your eyes locked into his, one expressing gratitude while the other looked upon you with eagerness.
It was at this moment where your story was going to begin.
The story of Scarecrow and his cursed love for you.
Hey guys! I'm so sorry I've been inactive for a bit, but I'm graduating this next month and I'll be free! To those who have sent in requests, expect them to be in the next few days/week.
The works coming out are for Goblin/Norman Osborne, so if you'd like a tag, let me know!
I'll also be posting a random multifandom drabble in between- angst cause I got my heartbroken lolol. Send in suggestions for who'd you'd like to have "Y/N's" heart broken due to selfishness/bad decisions/impulsiveness.
Anyways, thanks. I love y'all ❤️❤️❤️ thanks for your support, it means a lot ❤️❤️
