#he would be. enamored. obsessed. conflicted

[szarina]

Heyyy. Can I request a college au. Reader is an average, socially awkward, chubby gal who somehow managed to pulled the campus heartthrob, Geto (or gojo). And he's lowkey obsessed with her and try to be fucking her every chance he gets.

❝ TASTE THE SUGAR ON MY LIPS. ❞

𔓘 FEATURING. BOYFRIEND! GETO SUGURU

CONTENT WARNINGS. college au + hints of toxic boyfie geto + exhibitionism + established relationship + kissing + smut + insecurities + awkward reader + dubious consent .

SYNOPSIS. campus crush geto is utterly enamored with you. a socially awkward chubby girl that holds the title of being suguru's girlfriend and everyone wonder why? you ask the same question too and suguru is the only one who have the answer.

tall? yes.

dark? not really. he's leaning on warmer tones that one could say he spends his vacations on the beach.

handsome? a big fat yes.

there is too many adjectives to describe geto suguru. the fine arts student is currently holding your hand in a tight grip (you brush his hands off too many times when you two go out so he keeps a firm hold on your hands). a literature student who didn't have a social life and only a friend — can it still be considered a friend that you only talk to class?

and everyone asks why geto suguru would go for someone like you. a nobody that isn't even textbook attractive. they didn't even know that you exists until geto is parading you throughout campus like you were a trophy he won when it was the opposite from everyone's eye.

drop dead gorgeous that every man and women swoons over him. of course — who would not swoon for him? he's everything. well, except you. you particularly paid no interest in attractive guys cause they wouldn't be into you and even if they did, they won't fall for someone like you. stumbling over your words that people mistakes it for you mumbling instead of talking and thus, they find you boring with no prospect of a conversation.

the man besides you? he said you were interesting. no compliments on your beauty if you have any. you say to yourself. your size was the number one reason for it and if you get to know geto's ex-flings? a shuddering no. you don't look like close to them. not even a resemblance that geto suguru has a type.

he's mr. popular and you're ms. nobody. it sounds like cliché plot for a romance novel but this is your reality. a year had gone by and geto suguru is still all over you.

“do i need to explain myself?” he raises a brow at your question. more than once that's been asked and you got the same response from him all over again. he only hums and kisses your knuckles. the affection hasn't been done with the others and geto knows you're a bit of an old soul. hence, he made sure that he was sincere in taking you out and promises has made to himself that he would never hurt you.

if something that will happen that may end up in a break-up, geto had a term that it would be mutual for the both of you. there isn't going to be a harsh nor emotional way to broke up that would end up the two parties to be emotionally conflicted. it was better that way and fortunately, there hasn't been talks or signs that there is a turmoil in the relationship.

truth is, geto never gave you the reason to feel dissociated with him. assurances was the tip of his tongue when it was needed. his shoulder was there when you wanted to cry and his arms were there when you just feel like it and his lips that kisses you gently. it was beneficial for him cause before he knew it, he was so far gone enthralled on you.

the way you made him feel good like he was always in control and all the other quirks that is pleasant to him even the ups and downs. however some days when you're not in the picture, geto thought of you a lot and he says to himself he's not obsessed — fixated is much suitable in subtlety like any other person but he gets a little unstable when he don't see you and when he does the word seems to put it more in obvious.

“sugu—mmph!” merely seconds after he sees you, his lips was on yours. briefly knocking the air out of you before melting in the kiss. slowly moving your lips to return the action. “hey there, sugu.” you murmured against his lips and trying to ignore the stares that was being shoot at to you. it's a compromising position being kabedonned by a guy that everyone have the hots for and wished to experience what it was like to date geto suguru.

you momentarily stare at him. geto suguru is a mystery. does madness lurks behind those purples of his eyes and was his smile real? you bet it wasn't. it was honed from what he lives up as the expectations of others. he's charming. they would say behind your back while girls flirts with him. their smaller hands brushing over the expanse of his arms and they will only get a smile and that is only the thing the thing they'll have from him.

everyone likes geto suguru or maybe he's adored by the many that's why hatred are born to the likes of you cause if you were like them you would hate yourself too. the long jet black hair of his that drapes around his back. the sharp like eyes of his similar to a fox and that smile. that damned smile. his very features were the epitome of beauty with a body like a god.

“you're really handsome.” is what you say without thinking. your gaze still fixated on his godly features and that earns a laugh from him. so rich that you think you were hallucinating and were seeing things. must be in love. you say to yourself and you braced for yourself the heartbreak that will come when you already had fallen for him..

all is forgotten when suguru wondered why he was with you in the first place when all he could think is about you when the merely attraction had turned into something he never can get out with. he was in too deep with you.

he holds your chin. trapping it with his forefinger and thumb. “hmm? i am?” he hums unsure like he hasn't heard it for the first time when it was a million times he had heard it. a small smirk gracing in his lips when he sees you gazing at him. “and you're beautiful.” he whispers and then he was dragging you to a vacant room.

sunlight flows through the windows. giving the room a lightning that wasn't hard for the eyes and only giving it a glow. your back hits the professor's table. geto grasps your hips to place you into and it made you gasp a little that he have this strength to carry you.

“should we be doing this here, suguru?” looking at the door that he locked and you can pick up the faint footsteps roaming behind the door. students passing by and your heart skips a beat that you two may be caught.

“don't let that get into your pretty head.” holding your jaw to face him and you see your worried expression in the reflection of his eyes. “okay.” you whisper, your heart beating in worry of being caught but it wasn't when suguru's lips on yours. moving in such passion that leaves you breathless. wanting for more as you tug the sleeves of his shirt.

his hands slithering between your legs and parting them slowly. drawing smooth circles in your inner thighs while he kisses you. settling between your parted legs. his fingers gently pulls your panties aside. gathering the slick that was forming and rubbing slow circles in your clit. “sugu-hmm....” you moan against the kiss. your hips slowly grinding to get more of his touch. “yes, baby....” humming as his tongue entered your mouth. swirling and claiming every inch of your mouth and draw the sweetest moans and whimpers he can while he rubs your clit.

melting from his ministrations, he let out a groan. his cock throbbing from the confines of his pants and in desperate need of relief. he easily unbuttons his pants. pulling his boxers down and his cock sprang free. the tip glistening with pre-cum. he wraps his hand around his cock. giving it a few quick pumps before sliding between your folds. coating it with your juices before slowly plunging deep inside to your wet heat.

geto stills for a moment. savoring the way your tight cunt deliciously engulfing his length. time is the essence at the situation but geto couldn't care not when you're so snug around him. he cups your soft jaw in his hand. tilting it to the side before kissing you again.

a low breathy moan escaping his lip as he began to move his hips. pulling his cock, he slams it back again to your tight heat. moving in pace that's good for the both of you.

“sugu....” you drawl out. your body moving in sync to his thrusts while you hold the edge of the desk behind you. “i know, baby.” he grunts. hooking your leg around his waist to get deeper and with your dazed state. you look up at him. there's a faint hue of blush in his cheek. his eyes narrowing while he looks at you. meeting his gaze and his lips parted slightly.

in his intoxicated state of being balls deep to your tight cunt, geto remains aware of the surroundings. he glances at where the door was. noticing a shadow behind the door and the door knob suddenly rattling and his desire heightened at the thought of being caught with you.

he returns his attention to you. a smirk curling in his lips. drinking at the sight of his girlfriend who's too dazed to care and focusing on the pleasure that runs deep inside you. “sugu.....” he hears you moan out his name and he knows you're close from the way your breath hitches and the quiver of your thick thighs.

geto changes the angle of his hips. making sure he's hitting your sweet spot repeatedly and with a cry of his name, you came around him. your whole body trembling as your orgasm washes over you and with that, geto focuses on his release. moving in a relentless phase. his hips stuttering, a low growl tore from his throat and with a sharp thrust, he buried his cock to the hilt deep inside your fluttering walls. thick ropes of his cum is released to your insides. he rolls his hips a few times and takes his cock with a wet pop.

both of you stayed still for a moment. catching each other's breath and as both of your temporary highs dissipated. geto grabs your chin and presses a chaste kiss to your lips before helping you to fix yourself and pulls you off to the desk. gathering you in his arms as you put your feet back in the ground. holding your hand firmly in his grasp, he pulls you with him and went to go outside and unlocking the door.

a dumbfounded student stands outside the doorway at the appearance of geto and you leaving the room. they stay there for awhile, processing at just what occurred inside.

after that, geto took you at one of the quaint coffee shops inside the campus. a cup of black coffee steaming in front of him and your favorite drink and a slice of cheesecake. “are you sure you don't want a bite, sugu?” pushing your plate towards him for both of you to share. he only smiles. wiping the cream in your lips that your tongue didn't caught earlier with his thumb and bringing it to his lips.

the action caught you off guard and warmth spread throughout your cheeks. your gaze lowering in embarrassment. geto casually sips his drink and waited for you until you finished and he grabs your bag. slinging it to his shoulder and intertwining your soft hands in his calloused ones.

“say suguru, do you really like me?” you stare at him. finding any kind of hesitation and hints of deceit on his eyes which isn't the right thing to do cause his eyes doesn't lie and he got what people call the angel eyes. the question's been bugging you for a long time cause it was unreal and beyond your wildest dream that geto suguru is dating you. a nobody who doesn't get the second glances until you dated him.

he raises a brow at your question. an amused chuckle slipping past his lips. “it won't last a year if i don't like you, princess.” leaning down to meet your level. “maybe you lost a bet.” his gaze darkened at the reproachful words. “a bet? certainly not. if i want to hurt you. i won't waste my time being with you.” the tone of his voice is cool but there's an underlying threat. it's a warning that you should choose your words carefully.

you simply nodded at his words. satisfied for the mean time and that's all it took for geto to change back to his calm demeanor. his thumb brushing your round cheeks. his large hands dwarfing your own face despite the roundness of it. “good girl.” his hand slowly descends to your neck. caressing your flabby arms and slowly pinching your belly and creeping underneath your shirt.

“not here, suguru.” a look of worry painted in your face as you look at the students scattered in the library. “they won't know, princess and there are things that are needed to be clarified.” the look in your face is priceless. he loves the way how easily bothered you can be at his ministrations but besides it, he really needs you and geto is starting to question that you're the one who's in too deep with your affection towards him, not him.

maybe, all along. he's the one who have fallen too deep for you and he's dancing on the palm of your hand.

[everestgale]

I was originally going to reblog @/remaking-machine's post about other artists designing their own Rearranged AU/Swapped Voices, but, uh, my version ended up being too different from the original AU concept, so I'm instead just sharing these separately. It was very much inspired by @/phantasmatoucan (mod Owl)'s swapped voices (their Smitten-Skeptic swap is basically what inspired mine):

Skepticism and blind devotion

We have Smitten, who got so confused and conflicted by how the Chapter I Princess acted that he now has to figure out what's going on with her. He is so blind-sighted by finding the truth that he mercilessly analyzes every word and perceivable emotion of others, desperate to understand something that he does not... and he does not shy away from expressing his frustrations, loud and clear.

And Skeptic, who got hopelessly enamored with the cold beauty and efficiency of the Chapter I Princess, to the point of obsessive love. Now, he wants to know every little detail about her - every single moment of her life up to this moment, every part of her personality, her every like and dislike - he will not stop until he knows it all about her.

I claim 0 credit for that swap!Skeptic concept, it's basically Owl's idea, I just adapted it for my Skeptic-

Terror and longing

Then we have Cold, who is so terrified of what happened with the Princess and the Good Ending that he (tries to) completely retreat into his usual numbness, before his fears get too intense. He is confident that nothing bad would ever happen to them if they never engaged in conflict and never felt anything, as long as he numbs all the pain and emotions, they will all be safe.

And Paranoid, who got so messed by the Princess's paralysis that now everything feels dull and boring in comparison. And so he lets his frantic side shine and push everyone towards extreme actions; he demands more and more, acts out of spite, perseveres when he has no business doing so. And his beliefs and obsessions (eventually) allow him to bend reality to his will.

I have no plans for finishing the other voice pairs, or turning this into an actual fully fledged AU. More than anything, this was just a fun design exercise... and I got to draw lovestruck Skeptic, which is honestly all I wanted to draw /lh

[mikayuumouse]

(asking you about sskk since you asked which I've already asked to starlightshadowsworld )

Hey so this is quite random but remember when akutagawa thought he'd finally killed/beaten atsushi in their battle on that cargo ship in s1? In the manga after Akutagawa's anger has finally calmed down he, with a sorrowful expression on his face, wonders, "what killing him does anything good for me?" Later in the guild arc we see him making killing atsushi his final goal though he does say killing him a hundred times won't give him any satisfaction in rage. In 55 minutes ( we can assume it happens after the guild arc and before the cannibalism arc) akutagawa confirms that he doesn't hate Atsushi but he just can't simply move forward unless he tears him apart. Which is made more complicated when Atsushi realizes akutagawa had a sorrowful expression when he (aku) cut his (atsu's) throat. Showing the duality of Akutagawa's words and heart.This duality becomes more prominent when Fukuchi asks akutagawa if atsu's life is that much important to him. You can literally see the expression of shock and realization on his face. Also point to be noted he didn't answer the question. So my question to you is, when did his feelings start to change? when did he start to associate atsu's death as his primary goal? When did he realize he didn't actually want that? I'd love to hear your interpretations!

Omg wait this is such an interesting ask oml. Genuinely obsessed with the evolution of Akutagawa's feelings towards Atsushi 🙏

I think that when Fukuchi asked him "is his life that precious to you?" it was definitely when he genuinely realized how much he cared about Atsushi and Atsushi's life. And another thing is, I don't think Akutagawa died to save Atsushi because Dazai ordered him to, I think he did it simply just because he wanted to save Atsushi and would give up his life for that. Dazai did say "you know the reason yourself don't you?" when Dazai claimed that Akutagawa would save Atsushi, so I think Dazai is aware of how much Akutagawa actually values Atsushi, but in his usual Dazai manner, he didn't give Akutagawa any answers

But I think Akutagawa started caring for Atsushi before the fight with Fukuchi. I personally think that ever since they've met, Akutagawa has been enamored of sorts with Atsushi. His eyes lit up and he said "that's more like it" when Atsushi transformed in front of him when they first met, and this was before he learned Atsushi was Dazai's new subordinate

I don't think Akutagawa's ever hated Atsushi for WHO he is, he even said "I only hated you for your good fortune". He was envious, but never hated Atsushi as a person

(on a side note, it's clear that they get along in a non hostile environment from reading BEAST. They get along flawlessly so you can't say they're not compatible, in a domestic setting they are. And that's why I personally think they make the perfect couple and should get married)

I think Akutagawa's first feelings towards Atsushi were very conflicted. I think he admired Atsushi's strength but also hated it. Their fight on the cargo ship with Kyouka probably didn't change much, but Akutagawa inevitably learned more about Atsushi through that fight, and also how he valued Atsushi's life

On the Moby Dick fighting against Francis is when I think Akutagawa's feelings shifted from a type of animosity to more of...a connection. I think on the Moby Dick is when Akutagawa's character started to be intertwined with Atsushi more. They fought together instead of against each other (although they also still fought each other) and I think that made Akutagawa's perspective really change, where he started to respect Atsushi

(also there was a rainbow in the background when they finished the fight so um 👀)

The cannibalism arc, in my opinion, is when Akutagawa fell in love with Atsushi. (I know Sskk isn't canon LMAO but let a girl have her delusions<3). Okay, on a canon note, it's not that he fell in love (🤞) but I think Sskk's relationship GREATLY changed within the cannibalism arc (more people need to talk about it I swear)

Atsushi and Akutagawa had a talk about why Atsushi "saves people even though he's a coward" (to loosely quote Akutagawa), and Atsushi said because it was the right thing to do. But what he didn't say was that he was selfish and saved others to have a reason to live, he only thought that with a flashback to his orphanage. But later on, Atsushi says to Akutagawa "you already know the answer" after Akutagawa asks him why he saves people again. That really goes to show how much they understand each other without words, because Akutagawa does know

I think this really strengthened their understanding of each other

Also Pushkin shoots at Akutagawa and Atsushi pushes him out of the way right after they have that conversation, so that shows character development. I know you can technically argue "well it's Atsushi of course he'd push his teammate out of harm's way" but Atsushi knows how strong Akutagawa is and his capability with Rashomon, he could probably block that bullet. Yet, despite that, he's still scared Akutagawa's going to get shot and get hurt, so he pushed him to the ground anyway. Because he cared

Also in their fight against Ivan, it's the first time they use Kokko Zessou/Kokuto Zessou (I can never remember the spelling but it's just Beast Beneath the Moonlight x Rashomon). It's when they stop bickering and work together, it's when they put innate and unwavering trust in each other

A thing about Shin Soukoku is that a lot of their relationship goes unspoken. Because they don't need the words. And their trust is something that's not said with words, yet it's quite clearly there

So back to core question of this ask, I think Akutagawa's feelings started to change ever since the Moby Dick. I think he realized how changed they were after the fight against Ivan, and I think alongside his realization that he trusted Atsushi and genuinely cared about him, he realized he couldn't break the promise he and Atsushi had made

Also, regarding the six months deal, I have so many questions for how that's going to go down. Akutagawa can't kill Atsushi. Atsushi can't kill Akutagawa. I wonder how Asagiri is going to write that

And the only real reason why Akutagawa ever wanted to kill Atsushi was because of Dazai and Dazai's validation. If he proves himself to Dazai and defeats the weretiger, he'll finally get recognition. But now, Akutagawa doesn't seem to need Dazai's validation, regarding chapter 123. I really don't think there's any point for the six months deal to actually happen, but Asagiri might use it as a manoeuver to be able to let Akutagawa and Atsushi talk together

And oh my GOD chapter 123. And 122. The path of Akutagawa's feelings towards Atsushi is definitely long and sort of up to interpretation with some bits, but in the latest chapters, we know how his feelings have ended up

(this man is madly in love with Atsushi no one's changing my mind)

The past few chapters have had a lot of Akutagawa introspection and development, and it's honestly so interesting to finally see what he actually thinks of Atsushi. It's far from hate at this point, and what his feelings for Atsushi were along the way are definitely something complex

His feelings now are...well there's a lot to comb through. He cares about Atsushi, Atsushi is his reason to live, he'd do anything to get Atsushi back, he's dealing with the loss of Atsushi...

Oh I can't wait for this arc to unfold

But yeah those are my thoughts/slight analysis on how I think Akutagawa's feelings have changed, thank you for the ask :DD

[theloganator101]

I think in terms of musical direction, songs are used as character introductions, the synopsis of the plot and moving/serving the storyI’m gonna use mean girls since HH and viv is heavily inspired by it.

Cautionary tale breaks the fourth wall by having the two main leads introduce the audicence to cady and to take heed the story about to presented to us. It Roars is cady accepting the challenges of moving away from Africa and entering girl world and realizing no one likes her. Jumping ahead apex predator, Janis tries to warn cady about Regina being a vicious predator but she’s too enamored with Regina protection and power that comes with hanging out with a predator and doesn’t take heed in the warning. Mean girls has a lot of reprisals. What’s wrong with me is about Gretchen toxic friendship with Regina. She obsesses over Regina and wants Regina to like her but Regina damages Gretchen self worth and confidence but she blames herself. In the reprisal she goes through the same thing with cady. We see Gretchen try desperately to get Regina and cady attention but also cower and deem herself for their approval. There’s alot of songs that don’t need to be in mean girls like sexy and whose house is this? But they do set scenes and move the story along, sexy is Karen explaining to cady that Halloween is about being hot and it cuts to the Halloween party. Whose house is this? Is an unexpected party at Cady’s house which set stage of aaron and Janis realizing candy has become a clone of Regina and cut her out their lives becomes she’s not the same person they knew and is just as nasty as Regina.

theres a lot to get into but mean girls follows a simple formula, some songs are exposition songs that introduce the plot, characters and conflict or just there to set the next scene but they move the story along, the songs serve the plot.

HH does none of this. Instead of starting with a song like the pilot did, Charlie is reading from a children’s book which expositions and retcons the plot. The book clearly states heaven is evil and green lite the exterminations to control hell with fear to never revolt against them. Charlie forgets the storybook and happily makes her way to the meeting and she’s so enraptured with heaven. She says the problem is overpopulation when again that was never the problem. Heaven is scared of hell revolting against them. Happy day in hell is Charlie just repeating what we know because she, Vaggie and alastor said is multiple times. Redeem sinners by rehabilitating them in her hotel, but to continue her mothers dream? Charlie motivation are very muddy but she wants to help sinners redeem themselves to enter heaven. Hell is forever suffers the same problem because lute and Adam said multiple times they just love killing sinners and given a blank check to do whatever they want. Only mew information we get is that Adam has shortened the next extermination date to 6 months. Stayed gone is weird (this would’ve been the perfect opportunity to introduce the Vees like mean girls did with Meet the Plastic instead of this messing jump from one character to another) because it’s all just set up after set up. Sir pent attacks the hotel to the vews would like him, were introduced to the vees, first vox than cleverly than Valentino. Valentino and Angel have theyre own storyline that has to be set up till we get to stayed gone. The plot has to serve the song. it didn’t flow organically like in mean girl it was all inorganic and sets up multiple storylines, till we finally get to plot of the episodes. vox sends sir pent to spy on the hotel, he’s immediately caught and abandoned by vox and Charlie takes him in. It took multiple set ups to get to point of the episode. I could go one but this ask is long enough already and I think gets the point across of good musical direction

You pretty much hit the nail on the mark of how important direction is when it comes to something like songs in musicals.

I would even like to bring up Epic in how the songs tell the story, as you listen to the songs you can actually imagine what is going on in them. Keep Your Friends Close expresses Ody getting the wind bag and preventing his crew from opening it and releasing the storms trapped, and Dangerous expresses Hermes helping Ody in what he needs to do in order to survive the seas and make it back to Ithaca.

Hell, MY LITTLE PONY GEN 4 is able to get this right! Both in You'll Play Your Part in introducing the inner conflict for Twilight in the episode, and Becoming Popular in showing Rarity climbing up the social ladder in Canterlot.

In fact, I might even make a separate post rewriting how the songs in Hazbin Hotel play out to flow through the story better rather than being trapped music videos.

[yanderes-galore]

cna i get a lmk yandere ne zha romantic concept?

Sure! Wish he got more screen time.... (I did not know Season 5 existed when I wrote this, so maybe things changed-)

Yandere! Ne Zha Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Overprotective behavior, Jealousy, Violence, Stalking, Manipulation, Arson/Potential murder mention (?), Isolation, Kidnapping, Dubious relationship.

Based on what I've seen of Ne Zha, he seems like he'd be overly stern and serious.

He's responsible Celestial who's occasionally temperamental.

He takes his role as a guard seriously and often stands by such a role.

Which makes me think... Would he protect his obsession with such dedication?

Most likely.

A fellow Celestial obsession would be the easiest for him.

But I personally enjoy the turmoil and conflict he'd experience if his obsession was a mortal or demon not in the realm.

You could even just be a human who's friends with MK.

Only to have a Celestial completely enamored by you and your nature.

He takes everything very seriously with you.

He's conflicted with his feelings at first yet defends you with his life.

He'd give his obsession too many rules.

He'd scold you on safety and never take his eyes off you.

He acts like a guardian to you.

He's used to guarding, actually.

I don't doubt Ne Zha would get jealous.

He'd just try to find some way to justify it.

Ne Zha is another yandere who thinks he's meant to be perfect.

He has a feeling his obsession is wrong... that his feelings are wrong...

Yet this lucidity doesn't appear to be enough to leave you alone.

I imagine even in the Celestial Realm he finds a way to keep an eye on you (easier if you're a Celestial, requires less magical means).

Ne Zha tries to deal with his feelings by deeming himself your protector.

It's familiar... something he knows...

Unlike the darkness of his obsession that is so foreign and... unnerving.

Ne Zha may actually be a little... intimidated by his feelings.

He's aware they aren't pure.

He's lucid enough to know that.

Yet it doesn't stop him from... yearning.

He really does seem like a yandere who'd be overly involved in his obsession's life whenever he can.

Like, you could be talking to someone and he's not far behind giving a disapproving glare.

I imagine he comes off as controlling due to his nature.

But for the most part he starts your bond as just a protective Celestial guardian.

He treats his obsession with as much care as he would any magical item.

He's strong enough to do such a thing, too.

He normally never leaves his post.

Yet he can't help himself when he could be talking to you.

You just make him smile... you relax him.

Seeing you smile when speaking with him is euphoric.

Ne Zha is known to sacrifice anything for those he cares for.

He uses such dedication to alleviate his feelings and stays close to you.

Ne Zha still guards the Celestial Realm, but as his obsession with you grows, he spends more and more time with you.

Celestial Realm... Mortal realm... doesn't matter to him.

He just wants to see you.

His feelings make him fall into a bodyguard realm most of the time.

He isn't quite sure how to deal with his romantic feelings most of the time.

So he mostly just never parts from your side.

He's actually a bit prude until he realizes how much he enjoys... contact.

The moment he gets some sort of hug, hand holding, pat on the back, kiss, etc...

Well now he's hooked.

He has a hard time understanding why he likes you so much at first.

But soon he learns and decides he just... can't let you go.

Once he realizes he likes you romantically, no doubt due to you accidentally giving him affection to be friendly... he's always around.

He doesn't let you have any distance from him.

Many may comment on the fact that he seems overprotective.

Such accusations are often met with Ne Zha glaring at said person... proving their point.

Ne Zha protects you because he loves you.

To him, it doesn't matter how he does it.

He may usually refrain from it, but Ne Zha would do anything for you... including kill if necessary in his eyes.

He usually holds off due to him being somewhat lucid.

But it's a genuine possibility due to his temper.

In many ways he's similar to Red Son.

Although, while Red Son is possessive... Ne Zha is protective.

They're both temperamental and violent with pyromancy, yet for different reasons.

Like, Red Son would burn down the house of a rival because he doesn't want anyone else to share a connection like you and him have.

Meanwhile Ne Zha would do it for similar reasons, yet try to justify it as protecting you... making it seem like he knows the rival would've hurt you if he didn't step in.

Ne Zha would justify all of his behavior as him protecting you.

Why are you so worried, little lotus flower?

Trust him, he's come down from the Celestial Realm to protect you... to love you....

If he's hurt someone, he'll try to convince you it was necessary.

He acts like he knows best due to being a Celestial Guardian.

As most protective yanderes do, he'd use that to bring you back to his side...

Even if he's done something horrible.

He isolates you as his presence is oppressive.

He takes his time with you seriously.

He wants to be the person you turn to, for both protection and affection.

Eventually he may even insert himself into your home, vowing that he's there to watch over you.

You can't get him away from you even if you tried.

At some point he doesn't even want to return to the Celestial Realm.

Soon he may isolate you with himself at your home, or even drag you kicking and screaming with him to the Celestial Realm.

Will it cause issues? Perhaps...

He isn't going anywhere without you, though.

If you tried to leave him, he'd snap at you.

Don't you know how dangerous that is?

Aren't you aware that you need him?

He'll always be there for you... protecting you and kissing your skin whenever you need.

Ne Zha doesn't care what it takes to keep you.

Sure, he may face consequences for burning those he feels could harm you... or for the blood on his clothes... or for the fact he has considered/succeeded in kidnapping you...

Yet Ne Zha has already vowed to do anything for you... because you're his and he's yours...

He doesn't care what happens to him as long as he can show you his devotion.

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

Howdy, going through a phase with COD men (König my 6'10 BBG) and they would make such good Yandere husbands, would it be okay to request a Yandere military man who's completely delusional about a hostage he rescued? knife play and being stepped on with a tactical boot would be a bonus <3

btw the way you write dark content scratches such a specific itch and makes me want to wail, the yandere pirate story was *chef Kissssssss*

Honestly, the only thing I know about COD is that I kick ass at zombies lol so this is definitely just an oc

Yandere!Military Man x Hostage!Reader

CW: non-con, mention of death, assault, delusional ideation, dehumanizing language, dead dove

"Esteemed journalist (Reader L/N) has gone missing while covering the.."

The radio was drowned out by the vehicle hitting a rock, earning an aggravated groan from one of the men. Angrily, he slammed his fist on the dash board, as though he could intimidate the radio into working better. A couple of his brothers chuckled while the rookie squirmed nervously in his seat.

"Fucking, shit ass-" Adrian "Clank" Muigg muttered, quietly releasing a stream of curses in a very thick accent towards the machine.

(Most nicknames in the military were neither cool, nor had a badass backstory, most had fairly humorous or demeaning origins; Muigg, fresh out of boot camp, murdered an innocent television set in an attempt to fix it, which changed his name from "Big Bastard" to "Clank".)

The youngest man there prayed he wasn't visibly sweating. "Is everything alright, sir?"

Boston, the bushy browed man at the wheel, laughed with his entire chest. "That radio lady's talking 'bout the love of Clank's life!"

Clank felt the back of his neck heat up, and had to redirect his anger into tapping his foot to prevent himself from whacking Boston.

"I didn't know you had a partner?"

"He don't! HA! It's a one-sided, puppy love!" Boston joyfully mocked his best mate. "He's got that reporter-person's picture 'bove his bed, and has every article they've ever written. It's very sweet!"

Bright blue eyes warned Boston of the danger he was playing with, but Boston payed him no mind, causing more anxiety in the new recruit.

It was true, however, that Clank had a star struck crush on the journalist. They were brave in a way Clank hadn't seen before, the kind of bravery that made an unarmed civilian put their life in danger to expose the world to the horrors of war. This wasn't the first warzone (Reader) had willingly gone into, but it was the first time their mission overlapped with Clank's.

They were covering the battle Clank was involved in.

And it enraged him.

While their bravery is what initially drew him to them and their work, the longer he followed (Reader) the harder it got for him to read about the danger they got into. Weren't they fearful for their own life?? Why didn't they care for themselves as much as he cared for them??

The nearly six foot eight man had fantasized many times about what he would say and do if he got the opportunity to meet (Reader). He had an entire monologue prepared that exemplified his adoration for their work without ousting himself as a borderline obsessive fanboy.

However, that entire speech was forgotten when Clank burst into the room three hostages were being held in after killing the hostiles within the building, and found himself face to face with (Reader) in the flesh.

They stood defiantly, arms outstretched to protect the two other reporters behind them, not even wearing a bullet proof vest, ready to sacrifice themselves to save their coworkers.

Clank lowered his weapon, numbed by the sudden influx of confusing, and conflicting, emotions.

He was hurt, because he finally got to meet (Reader), and they were prepared for him to kill them.

He was enamored, because even with dirt clogging their pores, hair matted with sweat and drying blood, skin bruising and swollen, they were still the single most radiant being he had ever laid eyes upon.

And he was angry. Why wasn't (Reader) cowering like a good little civilian? Didn't they know that they could die? Why didn't they care about their life?

"I'm here to rescue you." Clank's voice was robotic, and unattached. It didn't feel like he was the one saying it, as the three frightened adults relaxed, scrambling over to his side. "Follow me."

He watched his object of affection as they obliviously helped lead the other two hostages down the stairs to the military vehicle. Their right eye was nearly swollen shut, but they were supporting a grown ass man with a slight limp. Clank imagined blowing the man's brains out.

As they made it down to where the group could see Clank's team, (Reader) released their friend and attempted to go back up the stairs. Still experiencing his out of body conundrum, Clank grabbed their arm forcefully, hard enough to earn a yelp from his favorite celebrity.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" He seethed, hissing the question between his clenched teeth to prevent himself from screaming it. The other two greedily ran outside to Boston's embrace, leaving them alone in the building.

"My footage, they kept it upstairs." Professional as always, the diligent champion of justice kept calm despite the feeling as though their arm would snap in Clank's fist.

"That is not important!"

"You don't know what I saw! It is, and I need the evidence, the proof, of what I saw!"

"Clank, where are you?" Boston's voice on Clank's radio distracted him enough for (Reader) to snake out of his grasp, bolting back up into the building.

"Shit-!" He pulled out his walkie as he ran up behind the surprisingly quick journalist. "Everything's good, I'll be down in a few minutes, start taking the others back."

"Uh, no? Excuse me-"

"That's an order."

"Clank-"

"I said; that's an order."

The violently pissed off man holstered his radio as he charged up the stairs three steps at a time.

His precious (Reader) had taken it too far this time.

Even if they didn't care about their own life, he cared. He loved them, adored them, worshipped them, so how fucking dare they continuously put their life in danger like this?

If they were to be wed one day, their life would be his. And that was downright disrespectful.

(Reader) could be heard rifling through cabinets and cupboards through the door of the first room on the floor above the one they were held prisoner on. Clank attempted to cool his rage before entering, wishing to not scare his future spouse again.

Glancing up only briefly, the adult of smaller stature offered a meak smile before going back to searching. "I'm sorry for that.. I don't mean to make your job difficult, but this is really important. We almost died for this footage; hell, LeDoux had his knee cracked open by one of those- his knee must be killing him."

-almost died-

-almost died-

Their words repeating in Clank's eardrums played over the exclamation of (Reader) finding their equipment. (Reader) almost died, for what? Nothing was more important than their life.

"I'm sorry?" Bloodshot eyes stared wide with confusion from under pursed eyebrows.

Without realizing it, Clank had spoken his thoughts out loud. But, perhaps this was for the best. They would have to learn the truth sooner or later. "Nothing is worth your life." He doubled down as he slowly approached (Reader).

It took a lot more energy forcing himself to smile than he wanted. Clank had never been so stressed or angry or conflicted in his entire life.

"That isn't for you to say." Sharp words responded with a huff, thrusting the camera into a duffel bag.

Clank released a humorless laugh. "You are like a small dog, aren't you, my dear?" His muscles were tensing under his uniform, and although (Reader) couldn't see it, they could feel the dangerous shift in his mannerisms. "You do not know of the danger you are in, so you bark loudly."

Although a pit of fear weighed down their stomach, the much weaker of the two hid it well, scoffing, and moving to stroll past Clank, praying that he was bluffing.

A harsh slap to their cheek confirmed that he was being serious, sending the already injured (Reader) to the floor.

Before they could scramble to their feet, a heavy, steel toed boot was placed firmly on their chest, pressing the air out of their lungs.

(Reader) could feel the blood rush to their head as they struggled to breath.

Clawing at Clank's shin and calf didn't move him.

"It is not your fault, that you are such a little dog. But, like all little dogs, you must be trained. Yes?"

Not a single word could be uttered. Black spots bounced around (Reader's) vision.

Clank eased up on the pressure just enough for oxygen to fill his love's deprived lungs. Between coughs and sputters, (Reader) only got out "Stop-" before his heel was digging into their sternum again.

"Tsk tsk tsk.. Now, I don't want to do this, but I have to. For us. So you must obey me, little puppy. Now, what do dogs say?"

(Reader) glared up at him in pain and hatred, sneering as angry tears welled up in their puffy eyes.

"Woof.." The pitiful bark was spat out.

"Ah ah ah." He wagged a finger at them in a chastising fashion. "Be nice, little puppy." His weight increased warningly, squeezing out a pained cry.

".. Woof."

Seeing the person Clank had loved for the past four years under his boot, writhing, flushed in the face, glistening eyes staring up at him and only him.. Clank could feel himself stiffening, and it disturbed him. Why did seeing his beloved cry in pain give him a hard on?

No, it is not because they are crying in pain.

Clank smiled, warping the situation to rationalize his hard cock pressing against his zipper. It was that they were being obedient for him.

Another cry rang out, louder this time, as Clank accidentally put too much weight on (Reader's) ribcage, lost in thought while admiring their pathetic face.

He got off, kneeling down so (Reader) wouldn't think about trying to get up. They got the message, and continued lying, grasping their chest and breathing raggedly.

"Good dog." Clank ran a hand through their hair. "You will listen to what I say, won't you?"

"Ye- ...woof." Their words quivered in shame.

"Good. Now, get on your knees."

(Reader) bit their tongue with how quickly their mouth clamped shut. It was humiliating, but their chest hurt so badly.. They rolled over, propping themselves up onto their hands and knees.

Their resolve to do as Clank said to avoid more pain was immediately forgotten when they felt his large hands tug at their pants.

"What are you doing?" They yelled in fright, whipping their head back to look at him before having their skull smashed into the floor, holding them down.

"Training, remember? For someone known for their intelligence, you sure are a moron. Bark, bitch."

Tears mixed in with snot, as (Reader) snarled "Fuck you!"

Clank removed his hand from their soft hair to firmly grasp their hips with both of his hands, pulling (Reader) onto his dick. "Incorrect."

"No!" (Reader) screamed, feeling Clank's bare member as it entered them painfully all in one thrust without lubrication. As they cried out, a slap to their ass rang out through the nearly empty room.

"What do dogs say?"

"Fuck you!" Another painful slap left a welt that would certainly bruise.

"You want to act like a bitch, putting your life in danger as though it doesn't matter, you're going to be treated like a bitch!" Clank raised his voice, terrifying his victim. "Now, what do dogs say?"

Slap!

"Woof.."

Slap!

"Woof! Woof! Bark!" They barked between viciously sobbing, heaving as he ravaged them from behind, fucking them so hard that their entire body rocked forward dangerously. The only reason why they hadn't fallen face first into the cement flooring was Clank's right hand digging painfully into their pelvis.

Whereas for (Reader) this was a nightmare, joy was already melting away Clank's anger.

"See, this will be better, for both of us. When we get back, you'll quit your job, and I can finally take care of you."

His thrusting became more passionate, and (Reader) could feel his precum as he began to slide in and out more easily. "I've dreamt of this for so long, and now I will finally be yours: whether as your husband or as your owner."

That triggered (Reader's) fight or fight response, realizing what Clank was implying. They attempted to throw themselves forward, to scramble away while he was still inside of them.

A strong arm caught (Reader) easily. Their spine was bent backwards, holding the attempted escapee in a head lock with a knife pressed to their throat as Clank continued stretching out their hole.

Despite their desperate pleas, their new fiance held (Reader) still on his cock as he released inside of them, going drunk on the way their walls felt clenching him as they milked him dry.

Eyes hazy with lust, he kissed their jaw, still keeping the knife held firmly against their neck just in case.

"Good dog."

A/N: I'm sorry it took so long! Thank you so much for your patience, I hope you like it ❤️

[butterfly-lies-chase-them-away]

Office Hours/Bells - Jonathan Crane x Fem!Reader (Part 2)

Pairing: Professor!Jonathan Crane x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 16409

Warnings: Obsessive behaviour, Professor x Student, mild body horror, kidnapping

Summary: Jonathan had taken Y/n back to his hideout. He wanted to keep her close so she couldn't expose his identity, but he also wanted her company. this is a part two.

A/N: thank you everyone for reading the first part, I never planned to make a part two, but I had someone in the comments asking for it so I thought 'it couldn't hurt' so here we are! Just a heads up, I made Y/n's mums name (Karen) because it's such a common mum name, so if that's not your mums name, just insert yours. It's only said once anyways so it's not that important. He also might be a bit OOC so sorry about that. (Office Hours/Bells Masterlist) (Part 1) - (Part 3)

-

Jonathan knew he could come off harsh as a teacher. In almost every lecture, he couldn't help but poke fun at his students' expenses. He felt insulted by their audacity to believe they could truly grasp his intellect. And he wouldn’t lie, he enjoyed seeing them squirm as well. 

Most students barely lasted a month in Jonathan's classes, and even those who did manage to stick around were nothing more than mediocre. However, there was one student that captured his attention – not because she was loud or flashy, but because of her care and thought she put into her work. Her dedication spoke volumes to Jonathan, leaving him intrigued and enamored.

Jonathan had never expected to interact with her beyond the classroom setting. Yet, the moment she entered his office and sought his help, something within him shifted. He couldn't resist the urge to know more about her. Suddenly, she was no longer just another student; she was an enigma, a puzzle he desperately craved to solve. With each passing encounter, his obsession grew stronger, consuming him like a drug until he could hardly imagine living without her. Like an addict, he yearned for more – more knowledge, more insight, and ultimately, more of her.

Desperate to prove himself worthy of her affections, he went to great lengths to impress her, going above and beyond to demonstrate his devotion, subtly. Guiding her through the eerie halls of Arkham, watching her eyes widen in wonder at every twisted detail, filled him with immense pride. Each small gesture – whether it be a compliment or an offering of assistance – served not only to affirm her value in his eyes but to cement his hold over her, hoping she fall within his web of seduction.

However, the encounter with Edward Nigma had cast a shadow over the uneasy alliance between the two villains. The Riddler had been a reliable business partner for Jonathan in the past. However, their last deal had taken an unexpected turn, resulting in Edward's incarceration within the confines of Arkham Asylum. The strained relationship between the two rogues was palpable, and it left a mark on their partnership.

As the conversation unfolded, the Riddler couldn't resist stirring the pot. His sharp gaze fixed on Crane, Nigma slyly questioned if Y/n was brought to Arkham with ulterior motives. With a calculated smirk, he hinted at Crane's association with Scarecrow, casting a shadow of doubt over the true intentions behind Y/n's presence.

The strain on their friendship became palpable when Y/n confronted Jonathan about the tension with Edward Nigma. However, discussing the truth was not a choice to him. 

The notion of kidnapping Y/n lingered in the recesses of Jonathan's mind like a forbidden temptation. To take such drastic measures would be a damning acknowledgment of his own internal turmoil, an admission that his fixation had crossed into dangerous territory. Yet, he found himself caught in a web of desire that he couldn't escape.

Jonathan grappled with conflicting emotions, torn between the part of him that yearned for what was best for Y/n and the other, more insidious side, driven by an irresistible urge to possess her. 

The decision to sew bells to Y/n's ankles, while she lay unconscious, spoke volumes about the depth of his internal conflict. It was a sinister reminder that while he harbored a desire to protect her, the darker, more primal instincts within him demanded her submission. The delicate chime of those bells echoed the symphony of Jonathan Crane's fractured desires, a haunting melody that only he could hear.

Jonathan never envisioned it coming to this point, where the lines between caring and obsession blurred into a disconcerting shade of gray. His internal battle waged on, a silent war that threatened to consume both him and the unsuspecting Y/n in the intricate dance of obsession and possession.

-

Once Jonathan Crane moved Y/n's unconscious form to his hideout, a dimly lit warehouse for his macabre experiments and toxic concoctions, he carefully laid her on a worn-out mattress in the shadowy corner of the second floor. The second floor was only a temporary home for him when he had to work late nights and long hours.

As he gently laid her tired body down, Jonathan couldn't help but notice the evidence of her distress—swollen eyes and lips, and scuffed feet from running barefoot in the Narrows. The chase must have ruined not only her spirit but her body. The room, bathed in the sickly glow of dim overhead lights, seemed to close in around them, emphasizing the gravity of the situation.

Mindful of the bells adorning her ankles, Jonathan handled her delicate form with a mix of tenderness and care. As he observed her vulnerability, the weight of guilt settled in the pit of his stomach, a sensation he couldn't shake. The cold reality of what he had done sank in, and for a fleeting moment, he questioned the boundaries he had crossed. Yet, the insatiable pull of his obsessions persisted, casting a sinister shadow over the sincerity of his remorse.

-

The struggle to regain consciousness proved to be an difficult task for Y/n. Her senses were shrouded in a fog of disorientation, her head throbbing in protest. The persistent ringing in her ears added to the dissonance, making every attempt to open her eyes an exercise in agony. When she finally managed to part her heavy lids, the hazy world around her came into view.

Blinking away the fog, Y/n took in her unsettling surroundings. A crusty mattress beneath her was the only thing found in the room she woke up in. Well, if she could really call it a room, it resembled warehouse's second floor loft of some sort by the visible tin roof and metal flooring with poorly laid carpet and open railing. A thick coat draped over her body offered minimal comfort, a stark contrast to the unease that settled deep within her.

As her ears gradually ceased their ringing, a disconcerting silence enveloped the space. Suddenly, the unmistakable sound of footsteps echoed against the metal stairs, sending a jolt through her. Her heart quickened its pace, a drumbeat of anxiety heralding the arrival of an unwelcome presence.

From the ascending stairs, a figure with dark hair and piercing blue eyes materialized, and dread tightened its grip around Y/n's chest. Jonathan Crane, the source of her torment, stood before her.

“How are you feeling?” he inquired, his voice carrying an unsettling mix of concern and detachment as he approached her bedside.

Y/n's response was a steely silence, a manifestation of her fury and fear. Her body trembled with a potent blend of emotions, and her glare bore into Jonathan, a silent accusation of betrayal.

Recognizing the futility of expecting a verbal response, Jonathan sighed, setting a glass of water and a dissolving pill beside her. "That's for the pain," he offered before retreating back down the stairs.

Once he left alone, Y/n's eyes welled with tears as the harsh reality of her captivity sank in. She cast her gaze downward, only to be confronted by the cruel reminder of her predicament—the horrid bells attached to her ankles. The weight of the situation pressed down on her, a visceral confirmation that this nightmare was, indeed, all too real.

As tears cascaded down Y/n's face, she lay on the crusted mattress, desperately attempting to stifle her sobs with her hand. The weight of her emotions bore down on her, each tear a silent testament to the fear and anguish that gripped her tightly.

Seeking solace, she reached for the thick coat that had initially offered a semblance of comfort. However, as she pulled it over herself, a wave of recognition washed over her. The scent clinging to the fabric was hauntingly familiar, a cruel reminder of the man responsible for her current torment.

In a surge of anger and defiance, Y/n hurled the coat away from her trembling form. The fabric, once a deceptive shroud of warmth, now lay discarded on the cold, unforgiving floor. "Fuck that bastard and his fucking coat," she seethed through gritted teeth and a quivering lip.

The discarded garment, like a discarded memory, lay there as a silent witness to the emotional tempest within the confines of the dimly lit warehouse. Y/n, left alone with the echoes of her pain.

-

Y/n awoke with a start, disoriented and frightened, only to find herself confronted by a man she couldn't immediately recognize. Reacting on pure instinct, she shoved him away, her instincts urging her to distance herself from any potential threat. However, the bell on her foot snagged on a loose thread of the mattress, causing a sharp cry of pain to escape her lips.

Jonathan, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, reached out to calm her, his intentions misunderstood in the haze of fear. Yet, Y/n, still gripped by a cocktail of anger and terror, vehemently rejected his touch. "Stop, Y/n, you're only going to hurt yourself," he implored, a rare note of concern colouring his voice.

"Fuck you!" Y/n spat back, her defiance ringing through the air.

Undeterred, Jonathan presented the glass of water he had placed nearby earlier, urging her to drink. However, her eyes, filled with tears and resentment, remained fixed on him with unyielding defiance. In a moment of rebellious fury, she knocked the glass from his hand, the water spilling across the mattress.

Exasperated, Jonathan kneeled on the mattress, attempting to approach her with care. Y/n, fueled by a potent mixture of fear and anger, resisted vehemently. Despite her struggles, Jonathan, with a resolve bordering on grim determination, restrained her arms, attempting to administer the pill he had procured.

Her resistance escalated into screams and kicks as he forced the pill into her mouth, the bitter taste causing her to recoil. Jonathan, undeterred, gently stroked her esophagus, triggering a reflex that forced her to swallow. Released but not defeated, she retaliated with a punch to his face, a futile expression of her rage.

Groaning but unfazed, Jonathan descended the stairs briefly, returning with a bottle of water. He left it beside her before retreating once more, leaving Y/n alone with the haunting realization that her captor's actions were driven by a twisted sense of care, a disconcerting paradox that only deepened the shadows of her captivity.

Y/n knew that they had once been friends served only to intensify the torment. The disconcerting reality of Jonathan's actions, driven by a distorted form of care, hung heavily in the air. Looking down, she finally noticed the tiny blanket placed over her, rather than the coat.

The pill, a bitter reminder of her lack of agency in this twisted narrative, lingered in her throat like a bitter truth. She couldn't shake the unsettling notion that each calculated move, from the bell-adorned ankles to the force-fed pill, was an expression of a grotesque form of affection. It was a confession steeped in darkness, a revelation that Jonathan's deranged obsession with her went beyond the bounds of conventional understanding.

Yet, as the water bottle stood there, a silent offering in the aftermath of their tumultuous encounter, Y/n couldn't bring herself to accept that he cared. She refused to believe that beneath the layers of madness, there existed a thread of genuine concern.

In the cold solitude of the warehouse, Y/n grappled not only with the physical restraints but also with the intangible bonds of a twisted connection. The unsettling blend of fear, anger, and reluctant acknowledgment of his twisted affection created a complex tapestry of emotions, weaving a narrative she never thought she'd be a part of.

-

The bitter taste of the pill lingered in Y/n's mouth, a cruel reminder of her involuntary submission to the whims of her captor. She was kind of pissed off at the fact that the pill did whatever it set out to do, at least what she assumed it was used for. Her body felt fine and she no longer ached as much.

The confinement to the bed, a symbol of her captivity, had begun to take its toll, and Y/n reluctantly acknowledged the pressing call of her biological needs. Despite her fierce determination to avoid any interaction with Jonathan, the reality of her situation forced her to confront an inevitable dilemma.

The thought of asking him for the the bathroom churned her stomach with indignation, but the urgency of the matter left her with no other choice. Contemplating a rebellious act, she briefly toyed with the idea of pissing herself on the mattress as an act of defiance. However, the potential repercussions, coupled with the degradation she would inevitably endure, prompted her to abandon the thought.

Summoning every ounce of strength, Y/n mustered the courage to rise from the worn mattress. Vertigo assailed her senses, and the room spun momentarily as she steadied herself against the railing. Glancing down, she observed Jonathan engrossed in a familiar scene of papers strewn across a table, a sight that had become all too familiar during her months of friendship with him.

Surveying the room below, she noted the limited doors—two doors serving as clear exits, one barricaded and the other locked. The last door remained an question, a potential sanctuary she dared to hope was a bathroom. 

The descent down the metal stairs felt like a journey into the unknown for Y/n. Her reluctance to be spotted by Jonathan battled with the urgent demands of her body. Creeping down the stairs with a mix of determination and caution so her bells wouldn’t jingle, she aimed to reach the bathroom undetected, weaving through the dimly lit warehouse.

However, the universe seemed to conspire against her as, upon reaching the ground floor, Jonathan's gaze fixed upon her. A curse escaped her lips internally, but undeterred, she pressed on towards the bathroom. The weight of his stare bore into her back, a constant reminder of the fragile balance between autonomy and captivity.

Reaching the door, Y/n shot a hesitant glance back at Jonathan. To her relief, he made no move to stop her, confirming her assumption that the room indeed housed the sought-after sanctuary. With a fleeting glance of defiance, she pushed the door open, revealing a simple yet welcome sight—a toilet, sink, and shower.

The rush of relief that accompanied the bathroom's discovery matched the urgency of her previous mission. Y/n took a moment to savor the normalcy of the room before relieving herself. Washing her hands afterward, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, and the reflection painted a stark contrast to the composed person she once was.

Her hair, tangled and unkempt, framed a face marked by fatigue. Despite the turmoil she endured, the absence of visible bruises provided a small solace. The bathroom, a brief respite from the harsh reality of her captivity, became a sanctuary where she confronted not only her immediate needs but also the disheveled reflection of a person transformed by the torment of her circumstances.

The abrupt encounter with Jonathan at the bathroom door elicited a startled shriek from Y/n. Her initial fear, however, quickly morphed into frustration, and she met his gaze with a furious intensity. "What the fuck, man!" she yelled, the anger evident in her voice.

Jonathan, seemingly taken aback by her outburst, tried to explain, "I was just going to ask if you were okay..."

Y/n huffed, her patience worn thin, and decisively pushed past him, ascending the stairs. "Never been better," she retorted sarcastically, leaving Jonathan behind.

Back on the mattress, Y/n's gaze shifted to the bottle of water placed on the ground. Her body, indifferent to the passage of time in captivity, left her uncertain of whether she was genuinely thirsty or if the sensation had been forgotten. Opting for caution, she grabbed the bottle and took a sip, immediately realizing she had been deprived of water for far too long. Chugging the entire bottle, she felt a measure of relief wash over her.

The realization that she had, just moments ago, shoved Jonathan out of the way emboldened Y/n. The absence of discipline after she had defiantly pushed past him fueled her growing conviction that there might be room for manipulation within the confines of her captivity. Her mind raced with possibilities, and she seized the opportunity to further test the limits of his proclaimed reluctance to inflict harm.

Opting for a subtle test, she tossed the empty bottle down the stairs, breaking the rhythmic pattern of Jonathan's work below. The scrapping of his chair made her breath stop. Anxiety gripped her as she heard the distinct sound of him ascending the stairs, her heart sinking with each step. However, the sight of a new bottle of water in his hands replaced her dread with a fleeting sense of relief.

Jonathan approached her, placing the bottle beside her without uttering a word. A sense of triumph welled within Y/n as he retreated, leaving her alone once again. The power dynamic, though skewed in his favor, showed signs of malleability.

Her smirk deepened as she contemplated how else she could navigate this precarious situation. The newfound knowledge that certain actions yielded unexpected outcomes spurred her imagination. Y/n, despite the dire circumstances, felt a glimmer of control in the face of her captor's unpredictable responses. As the wheels of her mind turned, she began to strategize, determined to exploit every opportunity to regain some semblance of agency in this nightmarish game.

-

The routine of tossing empty bottles down the stairs had evolved into a strange yet strangely effective communication method between Y/n and Jonathan. It became a silent pact, an unspoken agreement where she would throw a bottle, and he, in turn, would return with a fresh bottle of water without a single uttered word. The dynamic, though unconventional, provided Y/n with a sense of control, a small victory in the vast landscape of her captivity.

However, the game extended only to the water bottles. When it came to the food Jonathan brought, mostly simple take-out fare, she refrained from throwing it down the stairs. Despite her desire to maintain some semblance of control, she retained a sense of civility, not willing to degrade herself to the level of an animal in her attempts to navigate the situation. Instead, he’d just take the plate away when he gave her a new bottle.

On one particular day, feeling sluggish and unclean after what she assumed was a week without bathing, Y/n decided it was time to push the boundaries further. Throwing down another bottle, she waited for Jonathan's customary ascent up the stairs.

As he arrived with the expected bottle of water, he mused aloud, "I ought to get you a bin," revealing a hint of acknowledgment regarding their peculiar communication method.

Before he could retreat back downstairs, breaking the silent rhythm of their exchanges, Y/n summoned the courage to address him directly. "Jonathan..." Her voice, a rare sound in the confines of their strange relationship, brought him to a halt. He turned back to face her, silent anticipation written on his features.

"I need to shower," Y/n admitted, her vulnerability seeping through her words.

Jonathan, surprisingly accommodating, thought for a moment before responding, "Yeah, of course."

Her next revelation hung in the air, "I don't have any clothes."

"Sorry about that," he replied. "You go have your shower, and I'll bring you some clothes." With that, he headed down the stairs.

As she approached the bathroom, the subtle jingle of the bells on her feet caught her attention. The idea of showering with them on seemed uncomfortable, a painful reminder of past wounds. However, most of the injuries had healed by now, and she reasoned that it couldn't hurt too bad—just as long as she avoided tugging on anything sensitive. The promise of a shower, a rare luxury in her current state, became a momentary respite in the otherwise harrowing routine of her captivity.

The rhythmic sound of water hitting the shower floor enveloped Y/n as she stood beneath the refreshing spray. Stripping away the layers of captivity, she entered the shower, relishing the sensation of the water cascading down her tired body like a soothing rain. Glancing around, she spotted only a solitary bar of soap, resigning herself to the fact that her hair would have to wait for another day.

As the water ran down her, she couldn't help but contemplate her predicament. A sigh escaped her lips as she gazed up at the showerhead. The solitude of the shower became an unexpected confessional, and in a whispered admission to herself, she muttered, "...I might just fucking drown myself."

Yet, as the thought lingered, she quickly dismissed it. The logistics of such an act in a shower, coupled with the awareness that she wasn't suicidal, led her to shrug off the dark notion. Redirecting her focus, she began washing her body diligently, navigating around the bells with a careful touch. The leisurely pace became a momentary escape, a respite from the harsh reality that awaited her beyond the comforting spray.

When she eventually emerged from the shower, enveloped in the warmth of the towels, she wondered why Jonathan hadn’t knocked on the door yet, and as if summoned, the knock came. She found Jonathan holding a pile of clothes for her. "Sorry for taking a while," he offered.

She responded with silence. She accepted the clothes, bringing them into the bathroom. Drying herself off, she examined the clothes, confirming that they were indeed Jonathan's. The absence of underwear was a minor inconvenience, and she chose not to dwell on it. 

Dressed in Jonathan's clothes, Y/n emerged from the bathroom, prompting him to turn his attention away from his desk. Standing up, he inquired, "The clothes are fine?"

She nodded awkwardly, a silent acknowledgment of the peculiar exchange. Jonathan then said, "I'll go get you some clothes tomorrow from your dorm back at the university when I head to work. You don't need underwear right now, do you?"

Y/n shook her head in response. Jonathan, seemingly satisfied with her reply, returned to his work without further conversation.

Making her way back upstairs, Y/n was met with a shock. The decrepit mattress she had grown accustomed to was now replaced with a fresh one, adorned with clean sheets and a duvet, the tiny blanket she slept with the past few days placed overtop. To her surprise, it was elevated on wooden pallets, forming a makeshift bed base. The unexpected upgrade left her momentarily speechless, and she peered underneath, confirming the presence of the improvised support.

In a strange turn of events, she now had a proper bed. The realization struck her, and she couldn't help but cast a glance over the railing at Jonathan. A sense of gratitude tugged at her, and for a fleeting moment, she felt the urge to express her thanks. However, the weight of her captivity, the confinement, and the uncertainty of her situation promptly extinguished that impulse.

Walking back to her new bed, the conflicting emotions within her surfaced once again. The gesture felt like a twisted attempt to add a touch of comfort to her captivity. Anger, frustration, and a deep-seated sense of helplessness resurfaced, and Y/n, unable to contain her emotions, allowed herself a moment of vulnerability. She sank onto the bed, repressed tears welling in her eyes, as the cruel reality of her situation pressed heavily upon her.

-

The next day brought an unusual moment of opportunity as Y/n heard the distinct sound of Jonathan leaving the warehouse. It was the first time she had heard him leave, and the realization struck her that he had taken an entire week off work just to remain within the confines of the warehouse, likely to keep an eye on her. The emptiness left in his absence stirred a flicker of hope within her—a chance, perhaps, to explore the possibility of escape.

Descending the stairs, she cast a hopeful glance at the main entrance, only to find it stubbornly locked. Frustration crept in, but she decided to leave the main entrance for a later attempt. Undeterred, she moved to the boarded-up door, her eyes narrowing at the bolted bars. Despite her doubts about her strength, she grasped at the bars, giving them an experimental tug. The cold metal resisted her efforts, but the determination within her fueled a futile attempt to dislodge the impediment. She knew it would be futile, but it was worth a shot.

Turning her attention back to the main door, she surveyed the room for any tools that might aid her escape. Unfortunately, the sparse surroundings offered little beyond medical equipment and scattered papers. A sigh escaped her lips as she considered her limited options. Deciding to try a more direct approach, she mustered her strength and rammed against the door, only to be met with searing pain. The movies had lied – doors were far more resilient than she had anticipated.

Wincing from the failed attempt, she quickly retreated back up the stairs, the jingling of her bells echoing a defeat that resonated throughout the desolate warehouse. The fleeting glimmer of hope had dimmed, leaving her once again in the stark reality of her captivity, where even the simplest act of escape proved to be an insurmountable challenge.

The return of Jonathan marked the end of a long and tedious stretch of hours for Y/n. The absence of any form of entertainment in the warehouse became painfully apparent when left alone. The monotony was only broken by the sound of Jonathan's return, a stark reminder of the silent emptiness that lingered in his absence.

Jonathan ascended the stairs, each step accompanied by the weight of boxes in his arms. Multiple trips followed until a stack of three boxes stood beside Y/n's newly provided bed.

"There's your clothes and other things I thought you might need," Jonathan stated.

Y/n, caught off guard, involuntarily responded, "Thanks—fuck!"

Her unintended expression of gratitude hung in the air, a contradiction to the lingering anger that still gripped her. She shot a glare at Jonathan, who chuckled lightly in response, before making his way back down the stairs. The automatic politeness clashed with the undercurrent of resentment that fueled her, leaving Y/n with a mix of conflicting emotions as she contemplated the contents of the boxes beside her.

Sorting through the boxes, the first contained an assortment of clothes, providing a semblance of normalcy amid the chaos of her captivity. The second box held toiletries—shampoo, conditioner, and a toothbrush, a practical acknowledgment of basic needs. However, it was the contents of the third box that stirred an unexpected wave of emotions within Y/n.

She hesitated to delve too deeply into the box, but her eyes were immediately drawn to a soft toy nestled among the items. As she laid eyes on the familiar stuffed creature, a gift from her parents, her heart skipped a beat. The floodgates of emotion opened, catching her off guard.

She gingerly plucked the soft toy from the box, holding it close to her chest as if reuniting with an old friend. The texture of the familiar fabric, the scent of nostalgia, and the sentimental value of the cherished possession enveloped her in a bittersweet embrace. Tears welled in her eyes, and her heart ached with a poignant mix of longing and comfort.

In that moment, the soft toy became a tangible link to a world beyond the confines of the warehouse. It held the essence of home, a symbol of the relationships and memories she held dear. As Y/n hugged the cherished possession, the emotional weight of her situation momentarily shifted, offering a fleeting respite from the harsh reality of captivity.

-

The next morning, Y/n's routine took an unexpected turn as her gaze fell upon a novel placed beside her water bottle. Picking it up, she read the synopsis on the back, a small but significant shift in her otherwise monotonous existence. A smile graced her lips as the realization dawned—she now had something to occupy her time, a welcome distraction from the dull routine that had consumed her days.

Curiosity piqued, she opened the book, and as she flipped the pages, a small piece of paper fluttered to the ground. Retrieving it, she found a note that read: 'There is a fridge downstairs with leftover takeaways and a microwave above it.'

Excitement bubbled within her as she hopped off the bed, the soft toy still cradled in her arms. Approaching the railing, she surveyed the scene below and saw exactly what the note had described. A fridge filled with possibilities and a microwave poised above it promised a break from the mundane.

Rushing back to her newfound haven, she settled onto the bed, toy still in hand, and delved into the world within the pages of the novel. The words transported her to another realm, offering a temporary escape from the harsh reality of her captivity. In that moment, the warehouse transformed into a cocoon of solace, where the power of literature became a beacon of hope in the midst of her confined existence.

-

The introduction of a new routine marked a subtle shift in the dynamics of the warehouse. As Jonathan resumed his work, every other day brought a fresh book to Y/n's bedside, a silent acknowledgment of a shared love for literature. She had adapted to the solitude, getting her own sustenance from the fridge and maintaining a self-sufficient existence within the confines of the warehouse.

However, the lingering silence between them spoke volumes. Neither was willing to break the unspoken barrier. Jonathan, obstinate in his desire for Y/n to initiate conversation, held back any attempts at communication. On the other hand, Y/n, fueled by a mixture of resentment and a desire to maintain her sense of independence, remained resolute in her silence. After all, Jonathan was the architect of her captivity.

The tension escalated as Jonathan made a deliberate move to bridge the gap. Upon returning from work, he ascended the stairs and found Y/n engrossed in her reading, the soft toy cradled in her arms. Unfazed by her apparent disinterest, he unfolded a chair and placed it beside her bed. Seating himself, arms crossed, he waited in a silent invitation for a conversation that seemed inevitable.

Y/n cast a brief glance in his direction before turning away, fixing her gaze on the book in hand. Hoping for a swift departure, she found herself disheartened as Jonathan remained steadfast in his resolve to break the wall of silence that had settled between them.

Reflecting on Jonathan's social interactions, Y/n wasn’t surprise that he had befriended one of his students. His awkwardness and apparent lack of social cues didn't exactly position him as a social butterfly. In fact, she found herself pondering how she, too, had become entangled in his peculiar friendship. As she turned the pages of the novel, her thoughts remained on the strangeness that was Jonathan Crane.

Jonathan, his face etched with a blend of regret and desperation, finally broached the unspoken barrier that loomed between them. "How can I ever get you to forgive me, Y/n..." he asked, his hands rubbing wearily across his face.

A fire still burned within Y/n's eyes as she continued to glare at him. "Well, you can start with taking off these fucking bells," she retorted, her tone dripping with defiance.

There was a glimmer of hope in Jonathan's eyes at the prospect of making amends. He stood up from the chair and hastened down the stairs, a sense of urgency in his movements. The clinking and shuffling sounds below suggested a hurried search for something. Moments later, he reappeared, rushing up the stairs with his arms filled with equipment.

Carefully placing the items down, he selected a syringe from the assortment. Y/n, ever watchful, instinctively pressed herself into the corner, creating a distance between them.

"It's just an anesthetic, don't worry," Jonathan reassured, his voice carrying a tinge of sincerity.

The air in the room grew heavier with Y/n's skepticism as she responded, "And I'm supposed to believe you?"

Jonathan, determined to proceed, cut to the chase. "Do you want the bells off or not?" he asked, a hint of urgency in his voice.

Y/n let out a resigned sigh before reluctantly extending her feet toward him. Jonathan, carefully holding one foot, positioned the needle in close proximity. "I will only hurt for a second," he reassured, his words offering a small semblance of comfort.

Bracing herself, Y/n turned her gaze away as Jonathan pressed the needle into her skin. A sharp sting coursed through her for a brief moment as the fluid infiltrated her system. The room hung in suspense as Jonathan withdrew the needle, leaving only the waiting game for the anaesthetic to take effect. 

The numbness settled into Y/n's foot after a minute. Jonathan, wielding a surgical knife with clinical precision, cut into the skin, his focused expression revealing the gravity of the task at hand. The sight of him peeling back the skin and remove the bells sent a wave of nausea through Y/n. Witnessing the unsettling process, she averted her gaze, unable to bear the visceral reality unfolding before her.

As Jonathan delicately removed the bells, he skillfully stitched up the incision with a few practiced movements. He took care while bandaging her foot, relieving her of the discomfort she had while watching the entire ordeal. Y/n didn’t want to watch him deal with her other foot as she felt sick enough as is.

Her stomach churned with unease, and a sense of relief washed over her as Jonathan said, "Your feet will be numb for a while, so don't go walking around much. And you already know how your feet will feel when it wears off."

As Jonathan stood up, he handed a pill to Y/n, a silent offering to help possibly later pain or infection, she didn’t know and she didn’t ask. Accepting the pill, Y/n reached for the bottle of water beside her bed. However, her attempt at solace was abruptly halted when she watched Jonathan resettle himself in the chair beside her bed.

The warehouse seemed to amplify the growing tension between Y/n and Jonathan as the pill lingered in her hand, an unspoken bridge between relief and resentment. The weight of his gaze intensified her irritation, making the simple act of taking the pill an unexpected battleground.

"Take the pill, Y/n," Jonathan urged, his tone clearly indicating his impatience.

"I don't want to..." Y/n retorted, a rebellious spirit akin to that of a stroppy child.

Jonathan's patience wore thin, and a veiled threat slipped from his lips, "Do you want me to force it down your throat again?"

"I'm not your fucking cat," Y/n shot back, a mixture of defiance and begrudging compliance evident in her demeanor. Despite her resistance, she reluctantly conceded, swallowing the pill. Jonathan rolled his eyes at her behaviour.

"Anything else you would like me to do in the meantime?" Jonathan asked, his tone not hiding his exhaustion.

Y/n, seizing the opportunity to exercise her control, decided to push the boundaries. "I want a TV," she demanded, a request more driven by the desire to inconvenience him than any actual need for entertainment.

To her surprise, Jonathan readily agreed. "Yeah, I can do that. I'll bring one tomorrow," he said, a gesture of compliance that caught Y/n off guard.

Not one to back down, Y/n continued testing the limits. "And a couch," she added, pushing his buttons further, expecting a hint of resistance.

"If not tomorrow, I'll have one by Thursday," Jonathan assured, the easy acceptance marking a stark change from the expected power dynamic.

Y/n, realizing the depth of his desperation for her approval, found herself in uncharted territory, a moment of revelation that hinted at the complexity of their connection within the confines of the warehouse. The power play between captor and captive took an unexpected turn, leaving Y/n grappling with the realization that perhaps Jonathan's motivations were more nuanced than she had initially assumed.

"I, umm... I don't really need them," Y/n admitted, a sudden twinge of guilt clouding her defiance. While she knew Jonathan deserved the challenges she threw his way, a compassionate side of her couldn't help but surface.

"No, you need more. I'm sorry the conditions aren't ideal, so whatever you need, I'll get it," Jonathan replied earnestly. "Besides, I can just bring most things from my apartment."

The unexpected revelation piqued Y/n's curiosity. "So you do have an apartment?" she inquired.

"I do. I just don't go there often. I stay here most days. That's why I had the mattress before," Jonathan explained.

A question lingered in Y/n's mind, and she couldn't resist asking, "So where do you sleep now?" Considering she now occupied the mattress.

"I don't sleep much, but sometimes I just fall asleep at my desk," Jonathan admitted.

"Well, once you get the couch in, you'll have a nicer sleeping spot," Y/n remarked, brining lightheartedness into the conversation.

Jonathan's smile and laughter, though brief, hinted at a shared moment of glee amidst the unconventional circumstances that defined their interactions. 

"I'll leave you be now," Jonathan declared, slapping his knees and rising from his seat before descending the stairs.

Y/n watched his departure before shifting her gaze downward to her feet. It felt strange to see them without the bells now, a tangible reminder of the symbolic chains that had bound her. Yet, the absence of the constant jingling provided an unexpected sense of relief. She could already envision the scar that would mark the place where the bells once clung, but the prospect didn't particularly bother her.

Beside her feet lay the four bells, now detached from her ankles. She reached for them, holding the shiny metal in her hands. Some of her blood still clung to the surface from Jonathan's removal. Y/n wiped it off with her finger, a silent acknowledgment of the visceral experience she had just undergone. Placing the bells down beside her bed, she returned her attention to her reading, immersing herself in the solace that the words on the pages provided—a temporary escape from the complex reality that lingered in the confines of the warehouse.

-

She was roused from her slumber the next morning by the unmistakable sounds of furniture being rearranged downstairs. Surprisingly, as she got up from the bed, her feet barely hurt—a revelation that added an unexpected layer of comfort. Peering over the railing, she observed Jonathan's determined efforts to make space for the couch she had casually requested the day before. The sight of him pushing and maneuvering the heavy furniture hinted at the challenges he must have faced in bringing it through the door.

Jonathan, undeterred by the apparent struggle, eventually succeeded in positioning the couch to his satisfaction. A brief exit and return revealed him carrying a small coffee table, placing it against the wall in front of the newly positioned couch.

"Good morning," Jonathan greeted, catching sight of Y/n as he continued his efforts.

"Hi," she responded quietly, still somewhat stunned by the unexpected display of consideration.

Her surprise deepened as Jonathan ventured outside again, returning with a relatively sized television. Y/n couldn't help but descend the stairs slowly, watching with wide eyes as he set up the cables behind the TV. The realization struck her—Jonathan had gone out of his way to fulfill her requests, even the dumbest requests. As he turned to see her standing behind him, a mix of gratitude and astonishment painted her expression. The dynamics between captor and captive seemed to shift once again, revealing nuances in their connection that neither had anticipated.

"I'm assuming you know how to work a TV?" Jonathan asked, handing her the remote.

Still in a state of shock, she accepted the remote slowly, her fingers wrapping around it. Pressing the power button, the television flickered to life, showcasing some random show from the nineties. Her gaze shifted from the screen to Jonathan, her eyes reflecting the astonishment she felt. In that moment, the man before her seemed more like the Jonathan she had befriended back at the university in his office.

"Uhh... I'll be out for the rest of the day. I have work and... other matters to handle," Jonathan explained, his demeanor awkward and shy.

Unable to contain herself, Y/n found her arms wrapping around Jonathan, the gesture of gratitude. Jonathan, caught off guard, remained motionless for a moment before reciprocating, his arms encircling her in a hesitant embrace. The room was filled with an unspoken understanding, the unexpected connection between the two evolving into a moment of vulnerability and shared comfort. The rapid beating of Jonathan's heart echoed the complexity of their relationship, leaving both of them suspended in a moment that defied the conventional boundaries of their circumstances.

Pulling back from the embrace, she studied Jonathan's face. The bright red hue on his cheeks betrayed his embarrassment, yet he attempted to play it off with a nervous adjustment of his glasses and increased fidgeting.

"I'll head off now," Jonathan announced, a subtle awkwardness lingering in the air.

Y/n nodded in acknowledgment, her gaze following him as he left the warehouse. Settling back onto the couch, she shifted her attention to the TV. The simple act of watching television provided a welcome diversion from the routine of reading, offering a momentary escape from the peculiar circumstances that defined their existence within the confines of the warehouse.

-

When Jonathan returned to the warehouse well after midnight, he found the TV still flickering, casting a soft glow across the room. Y/n, however, had succumbed to sleep on the couch. Jonathan couldn't help but chuckle at the sight—she was slouched on the couch, her head tilted to the side, she would undoubtedly wake up with a stiff neck.

Quietly making his way over, Jonathan gently called her name. Y/n stirred, her eyes slowly focusing on him. In his hand, he held a familiar takeout drink tray.

"I got you a smoothie," Jonathan said, offering her the beverage.

Y/n, rubbing her eyes, gratefully accepted the smoothie. The thoughtful gesture didn't go unnoticed. He had remembered their usual orders, a nostalgic echo of the routine they used to share. "Thank you, Jonathan," Y/n expressed her gratitude.

She took a sip of the smoothie, and Jonathan settled down on the opposite end of the couch, nursing his own coffee. Y/n couldn’t believe that he went out of his way in the dead of night to get the two of them drinks. Like they used to.

"Why are you so nice to me? Most kidnappers aren't as generous as you are," Y/n questioned, looking down at her drink, confusion evident in her eyes.

Jonathan dropped his hands, meeting her gaze with heavy eyes. "I don't want you to feel like you've been kidnapped. I know you technically have, but I'm only doing this because you know too much... and you're my friend. I just want to keep you safe," he explained, the sincerity in his voice piercing through the air.

"So why can't I leave at all?" Y/n pressed, seeking clarity on the boundaries that confined her.

"Because I know you won't come back to me," he admitted, his words heavy with a mixture of longing and fear, revealing a vulnerability that lay beneath the surface. The complexity of their relationship hung in the air, leaving them both to grapple with the intricacies of emotions that defied the conventional norms of captor and captive.

She was well aware of his feelings for her; he had already confessed. Every gesture, every act of kindness, was an unspoken testament to his affection. With each passing day, the evidence of his genuine care only grew stronger. Surprisingly, she found herself reciprocating feelings, not in the way he desired, but as a friend. In the confines of the warehouse, their evolving friendship became a source of solace, making the otherwise challenging situation somewhat bearable. 

Y/n finished her drink, and Jonathan, being considerate, took her empty cup to the bin. "You should probably go to sleep," he suggested.

Nodding in agreement, Y/n slowly made her way towards the stairs. Before heading up, she glanced back at Jonathan. "Goodnight," she said.

Jonathan met her gaze, offering a small smile. "Goodnight, my dear," he replied.

With that, she headed to bed and found sleep easily, the sense of security and newfound companionship making the warehouse feel less like a prison and more like an unexpected haven. The nightly routine, once defined by isolation, had transformed into a shared experience that bridged the gap between the two.

-

Jonathan's gaze lingered on Y/n as she sat on the couch, engrossed in her book. A satisfied smile played on his lips, a silent acknowledgment of his decision to place the couch downstairs. Originally, he had contemplated situating it on the second floor where she slept, but the logistics of maneuvering it up the stairs alone proved daunting. However, a more significant reason was emerging – he relished her presence. Having her in close proximity brought a sense of comfort, and now, with her belongings downstairs, she had more reasons to be near him.

His plan had unintentionally transformed the warehouse into a shared space. The atmosphere had shifted from a mere place of confinement to a peculiar kind of coexistence. As Jonathan resumed his work, he found solace in the unspoken companionship that had developed between them.

Jonathan had never been one to crave the presence of another person. His life had been one of solitude and seclusion, an intentional choice rooted in past experiences that had made his interactions with people nothing but hell. His patience was short, and his temper quick, leading him to snap and belittle those around him.

His history was tainted by strained familial relationships, particularly with his grandmother, who had cast a shadow over potential family dynamics and other close connections. High school only exacerbated his disdain for people. Growing up, Jonathan had accepted the notion that he was destined for a life of loneliness, and surprisingly, he had been content with that prospect. Until Y/n had walked into his office.

Everything within him seemed to shift on the day she entered his life. His feelings, once reserved and guarded, underwent a transformation. The desire for her presence, her company, became a profound longing. Jonathan recognized the unhealthy nature of this longing, particularly given his profession as a psychologist, where he encountered individuals struggling with similar issues. Yet, he reasoned that he had engaged in far more damaging behaviors before. Y/n's presence had, unwittingly, redefined his understanding of connection and companionship.

Jonathan grappled with conflicting emotions. On one hand, he recognized the inherent wrongness of keeping Y/n locked up. He understood the ethical imperative of granting her freedom, allowing her to live her life unencumbered. Yet, desperation clawed at him, fueling the impulse to keep her close. The secrets she held about him, the vulnerabilities she could expose, played a significant role in this internal struggle.

More than that, Jonathan was tethered to her presence by a profound longing that surged through him. It wasn't easy to navigate this desire without her nearby, and the very idea of her leaving stirred anxiety within him. He yearned for her companionship, a connection that had become an integral part of his life.

Witnessing Y/n gradually acclimating to this peculiar new lifestyle brought a sense of relief to Jonathan. He knew it wasn't a sustainable solution, but for the moment, he embraced whatever semblance of normalcy he could find. The complexities of their relationship and the uncertainties of the future weighed heavily on him, but, for now, he would take solace in the fragile connection they shared.

-

Y/n lounged on the couch, flicking through channels as the television emitted a dull hum. Daytime TV proved to be a lackluster companion, offering little more than cheesy infomercials and forgettable reruns. The warehouse echoed with silence, emphasizing the monotony of her confinement. Y/n had been flipping through the channels for what felt like an hour, but nothing seemed to peak her interests.

With Jonathan away at work, Y/n felt an unusual sense of solitude. The newfound freedom to explore the warehouse was both a blessing and a curse. As her gaze wandered around the space, she pondered the mysteries hidden within its walls. The medical equipment, the remnants of Jonathan's research, and the memories of her time spent here intrigued her. She strolled over to his cluttered workbench, where an array of papers, vials, and scientific instruments were scattered. Initially, the documents detailing fear toxins didn't capture her interest; she wasn't keen on delving into the intricacies of Jonathan's fucked up, scientific pursuits.

Her curiosity, however, led her to the drawers beneath the bench. With a gentle pull, Y/n revealed a trove of surprises. The first drawer held a meticulous assortment of labeled vials, each containing distinct substances. She picked up one of the vials, labeled and dated with precision, recognizing the scent instantly. It was the same perfume she had often detected on Jonathan during their encounters.

Pausing to take in the familiar fragrance, she couldn't help but wonder if he had crafted it for a specific purpose. The adjacent papers provided some context, revealing various combinations of scents and their effects. Y/n noticed a sheet that stood out, titled 'Scents and Fragrances that Attract Women.' Intrigued, she perused the list, accompanied by Jonathan's handwritten notes, showcasing his dedication to understanding the nuances of cologne.

Y/n discovered a playful side of Jonathan. A sheet contained doodles and sketches of different fragrance bottles, each annotated with amusing comments. The revelation that Jonathan, the Scarecrow, had a detailed study on cologne preferences added an unexpected layer to his character, leaving Y/n both amused and perplexed by the complexity hidden beneath his fearsome exterior.

Beside the humorous list, there were various combinations of scents documented, showcasing his dedication to finding the perfect olfactory concoction. As she sifted through the papers, Y/n discovered more details about the specific fragrances he had explored, some even labeled with comments like "subtle and alluring" or "intense and captivating."

It became apparent that Jonathan had not only delved into the science of fear toxins but also applied a similar level of scrutiny to the world of fragrances. The revelation added a layer of complexity to the man she thought she knew, leaving Y/n intrigued by the unexpected facets of Jonathan Crane's character.

Y/n continued her exploration, stumbling upon another set of papers that caught her eye. As she read through the notes, her eyes widened in disbelief. "First test showed positive reactions; she became immediately distracted and clearly smelt the air." The revelation struck her like a lightning bolt. The date aligned perfectly with the second day she sought Jonathan's assistance at the office. It dawned on her—was he talking about her?

Examining the page closely, she couldn't help but smile at the small, endearing details. Little smiley faces and hearts were doodled in the corner, adding a touch of unexpected warmth to the some what stoic man. The contrast between the menacing Scarecrow and the man who took the time to create a cologne to attract her left Y/n in a state of pleasant surprise.

This newfound revelation sparked a mix of emotions within her—confusion, curiosity, and a hint of amusement. The complexity of Jonathan Crane, the Scarecrow, unfolded before her, revealing a person with unexpected intricacies beneath the mask of fear and intimidation.

-

As the clock ticked well past midnight, Y/n's concern grew with each passing moment. Restlessly, she lay on her bed, unable to find solace in sleep. The weight of uncertainty pressed upon her, and the silent echoes of the empty warehouse only heightened her unease. Her thoughts revolved around Jonathan's prolonged absence, and the shadows played tricks on her restless mind.

Suddenly, a resounding slam reverberated through the warehouse, jolting her from her half-hearted attempts at rest. With a surge of adrenaline, Y/n sprang to her feet and hurried to the balcony, her eyes scanning the dimly lit space below.

Y/n observed Jonathan from the second floor balcony, his weary footsteps echoing through the warehouse. The day hadn't gone as planned for him, and it showed. He limped toward his medical table, the weariness etched across his face. As he pulled off his mask and blazer, revealing the toll his endeavors had taken, Y/n couldn't help but be taken aback.

His body bore the evidence of brutal encounters—bloody welts and massive bruises painted a vivid picture of the hardships he endured. This was the same man who confidently walked into classrooms, teaching psychology to unsuspecting students. The Scarecrow's true form was far removed from the academic facade she had known.

As he unbuttoned his shirt, the extent of the damage became even more apparent. Old scars crisscrossed his body, testaments to the harsh realities of life as the Scarecrow. The scratches on his cheek, where a knife had cut through his mask, added a layer of vulnerability to the fearsome figure Y/n had grown accustomed to.

Witnessing Jonathan's physical state, Y/n grappled with conflicting emotions. The man before her was not just a villain; he was someone battered and scarred by the very terror he unleashed upon others. The revelation added a nuanced layer to her understanding of the enigmatic Scarecrow.

Y/n swiftly retreated to the mattress, her heart pounding as she tried to maintain the facade of peaceful slumber. The metal stairs announced Jonathan's movement, the distinct sounds of his grunts and creaking knees accompanying his movements. She sensed his presence drawing closer, and the weight of his gaze seemed to linger on her. As he reached the second floor, he paused, and she could only imagine him standing there, observing her.

Jonathan knelt beside her, his efforts accompanied by more audible sounds of discomfort. Despite her closed eyes, Y/n was acutely aware of the delicate balance between their strained companionship and the veiled tension that surrounded them.

The gentle touch of Jonathan's hand through her hair sent a shiver down Y/n's spine. His unexpected tenderness stirred conflicting emotions within her, creating a paradox between the comfort of the gesture and the unsettling reality of their situation. She lay there, eyes closed, pretending to sleep, as he continued his soft caress.

His actions were both perplexing and strangely intimate. The sensation of his fingers gliding through her hair felt genuine. The tenderness in that moment left her questioning the complexities of the man she thought she had figured out.

When he pressed a tender kiss on her head, Y/n's heart raced. It wasn't the fear that gripped her; it was a mixture of confusion, curiosity, and a strange acknowledgment of his unexpected vulnerability. As he left her side and descended the stairs, she opened her eyes.

Looking down at the floor beside her, Y/n noticed yet another addition to Jonathan's extensive collection. Evidently, this was his nightly routine – one that left her feeling grateful. Out of curiosity, she carefully picked up the book and began flipping through its pages, hoping to gain some insight into the man behind the mask. 

Feeling bold, Y/n rose from her bed and descended the staircase, her eyes landing upon Jonathan slumped on the couch. For a brief moment, they locked gazes – a mutual understanding passed between them, igniting a spark of curiosity within her. Without saying a word, Y/n extended her hand, beckoning him to follow her upstairs. Surprised yet mesmerized, Jonathan took hold of her hand, allowing her to lead by her.

Silently, Y/n led Jonathan upstairs, guiding him towards the sanctuary of her bed. Once settled, she climbed onto the mattress beside him, their bodies mere inches apart. Time seemed to stand still as they stared into each other's eyes, yearning for connection amidst chaos. 

“What are you doing, my Dea—" Jonathan was cut off.

“Do you need some pain relief?” Y/n asked, her gaze steady and awkward yet holding a peculiar warmth.

Jonathan looked at her for a moment, their eyes meeting in a silent exchange. Her question hung in the air, a simple offering wrapped in genuine concern.

“No... I already had some, my Dear,” Jonathan replied, his smile revealing a hint of gratitude beneath the layers of exhaustion.

Y/n hesitated for a moment, her eyes reflecting concern. "You don't have to pretend with me, Jonathan," she said softly. "I can see how much pain you're in."

Jonathan's smile faded, replaced by a vulnerability that mirrored the weariness in his eyes. The acknowledgment of his pain seemed to catch him off guard, a stark departure from the usual interaction between them.

"I appreciate the concern, Y/n," Jonathan admitted, his gaze dropping to the scars that adorned his body. "But there's not much you can do about it."

Y/n, despite the unconventional circumstances, felt a strange sense of empathy for him. She reached out tentatively, her hand resting on his arm. The touch was subtle but carried a weight of understanding. Jonathan, in response, seemed to relax a fraction.

"Maybe there isn't much I can do," Y/n began, "but that doesn't mean I can't try to make you more comfortable."

She shuffled a bit on the bed, reaching for the bottle of water on the floor. Without waiting for a response, she handed it to him. Jonathan accepted it, their eyes locking for a moment, an unspoken acknowledgment passing between them. The warehouse, once a fortress of fear, now held an unexpected camaraderie.

Just as Jonathan tried to take a sip, a low groan of pain escaped his lips.

"Maybe you should let me take a look at those injuries," Y/n suggested, her voice softer than usual. 

Jonathan hesitated for a moment, his guarded expression softening as he nodded in agreement. She carefully examined the wounds, her touch gentle yet deliberate. The silence enveloped them, broken only by the occasional creaking of the old warehouse. Y/n, engrossed in her task, felt a mix of emotions. It was surreal—here she was, tending to the very person who had held her captive.

Y/n delicately traced the contours of the bruise on his side, her fingers gliding down his ribs. She noticed the shiver that ran through him, and he instinctively held his breath. It was a touch so intimate, Jonathan had never experienced before.

As she worked, a thought crossed her mind. "Why do you do this to yourself, Jonathan?" she asked quietly, almost to herself. The question hung in the air, seeking an answer that neither of them seemed ready to give.

Y/n sighed, realizing Jonathan wouldn't share the details. She decided to drop the subject, acknowledging that some things were best left unsaid. The room fell into a quiet understanding, punctuated only by the distant hum of the refrigerator and the creaks of the warehouse settling.

“Do you have some kind of soothing cream or something?” Y/n asked.

He nodded slightly, "I should have some in my second drawer on the right."

Y/n swiftly made her way down the stairs, her steps echoing in the dimly lit warehouse. She reached the workbench and located the specified drawer. Pulling it open, she found a small jar of homemade cream. It was clear that Jonathan had crafted it himself.

With the jar in hand, she rushed back up the stairs once more, her heart pounding with a mixture of uncertainty and curiosity. Returning to the bed, she opened the jar, revealing a subtle, soothing aroma. The cream had a velvety texture, and she dipped her fingers into it before gently applying it to the large bruise on Jonathan's side. The cool touch seemed to bring a momentary relief to the tension in his muscles.

She watched him visibly relax as she spread the soothing gel on his side. The cream worked its magic, casting a subtle glow on his bruised skin. As she finished applying it, she took a step back to assess her handiwork. The bruise still painted a vivid picture of pain, but there was a noticeable difference. The cream had lent a certain tenderness to the harsh, angry colors.

“Are there anymore?” Y/n asked. 

Jonathan lifted his arm above his head, revealing the bruise on the underside of his bicep. Without hesitation, she grabbed more gel and gently spread it on the affected area.

She couldn't ignore the vulnerability she saw in Jonathan's eyes, a stark contrast to the menacing figure she had initially perceived him to be. His pain was evident, not just in the physical bruises but also in the weariness that clung to him.

"Does this help?" she asked, her tone softer than before.

Jonathan didn't respond immediately; instead, he merely closed his eyes, seemingly absorbing the relief the gel provided. After a moment, he let out a subtle sigh. "Yes, it helps. Thank you."

Y/n nodded, her fingers tracing the edges of the bruise with delicate care. She couldn't deny the strange intimacy of the situation, a moment shared between captor and captive that transcended their roles.

"I never expected you to be so... hurt," she admitted, breaking the silence that lingered in the room.

Jonathan opened his eyes, meeting her gaze with a mixture of emotions. "You weren't supposed to see this side of me."

As she continued to tend to his injuries, a silent understanding settled between them. After applying the gel to most of his bruises, Y/n set the container down and laid back on the bed.

"We should probably get some sleep, especially you," Y/n suggested.

"...Thank you, my Dear," Jonathan responded, his gaze fixed on the ceiling.

Y/n offered a gentle smile. "Don't mention it." The weight of their unspoken connection hung in the air, a fragile bond that transcended the peculiar circumstances that had brought them together. With that, they allowed the quiet of the warehouse to envelop them as they sought refuge in the realm of sleep.

-

Y/n hadn't anticipated waking up to find Jonathan lying beside her. As she turned to face him, she saw him curled up, knees drawn close to his chest in a vulnerable fetal position. She couldn't help but find him unexpectedly endearing, his usual imposing presence replaced by an unexpected fragility.

Reluctant to disturb his slumber, Y/n carefully slid out of the bed and descended the stairs. There, she spotted Jonathan's burlap mask—the very one he wore as Scarecrow during their unsettling encounters. The mask held traces of his encounters, notably the slash across the cheek where he had been cut.

Holding the material delicately, Y/n searched for a needle and thread which she found tucked away in one of his drawers. She retrieved the tools and settled on the couch, turning on the TV with lowered volume to provide a subtle background noise.

With meticulous care, Y/n began the task of stitching up the two slashes on the mask, skillfully mending it in a way that made the cuts imperceptible. As she worked, her mind swirled with thoughts about the man whose vulnerability she now witnessed.

She hadn't heard Jonathan approach, his movements muffled despite his subtle grunts, until his presence loomed above her. Startled, she turned to meet his gaze.

"Good morning. How are you feeling today?" Y/n inquired, genuine concern etched on her face.

"Better. A real bed makes all the difference," Jonathan replied, acknowledging the upgrade in his sleeping arrangements.

Y/n chuckled before presenting his burlap mask. "I stitched up your mask."

Jonathan, taken aback by the unexpected gesture, managed a quiet, appreciative response. "Thank you." It was a small act of kindness, a rarity in his world of calculated motives and hidden agendas, and it left him momentarily stunned.

He settled into the seat beside her on the couch, an air of distress lingering on his features, but not the kind associated with physical pain—something else. Concerned, Y/n asked, "Is everything alright, Jonathan?"

“Your family called the university... they're worried,” Jonathan confessed, his gaze avoiding hers.

Her stomach sank, realization hitting her like a ton of bricks. She had completely forgotten about her family's feelings and the fact that she hadn't spoken to them in over a month.

“U-umm... is there any way you can tell them I’m okay?” Y/n's emotions surfaced, evident in her voice and expression.

“I’ve sent them emails, saying you attend my classes and that you’re okay, but you can imagine how much that helped,” Jonathan said, his words carrying a weight of stress.

Her lip quivered as she bit it, grappling with the emotions bubbling to the surface. Y/n didn’t want her family to worry; they had been against her going to Gotham in the first place. The lack of communication likely intensified their concerns.

Jonathan sensed her internal struggle and suggested, “Would you like to call them?”

Y/n's eyes widened in disbelief. She was supposed to be kidnapped, and here he was, unexpectedly offering to let her call her family. “Really?”

Jonathan took a moment to consider before nodding. “As long as you don’t mention this... situation.”

Y/n eagerly nodded. “Yes, yes. I promise.”

Jonathan rose from his seat, a noticeable limp in his step, making his way to his desk where he likely left his burner phone the day before. As he approached, Y/n stood, and he handed her the phone.

His intense gaze lingered on her as she quickly dialed her dad's number. Holding the phone to her ear, she anxiously listened to it ring.

“Hello?” the voice on the other end of the line asked.

Y/n felt a surge of hope and relief. “Dad?”

“Fucking hell! Where the fuck have you been?!” Her dad's voice boomed through the phone.

“I'm so sorry, Dad,” Y/n replied, a mix of guilt and relief coursing through her.

Jonathan observed her as she spoke, witnessing her gradual calmness and the visible release of stress from her shoulders.

“Why haven’t you been answering your phone?” her dad demanded.

“U-umm, my damn phone went to shit a bit ago, and I haven’t had the money to buy a new one. I should have said something. I'm sorry, Dad,” Y/n fabricated a lie on the spot, and a sense of relief washed over Jonathan.

“Fucking hell... well, you better go call your mum; she’s freaking out too,” her dad said, his tone slightly calmer.

“Okay, I’ll call her right after,” Y/n promised.

“Well… thanks for calling... finally,” her dad added a snarky comment, causing her to chuckle a little.

“I’ll try to keep in touch more, sorry, Dad,” Y/n said.

“Yeah, yeah…”

“I’ll call Mum now. Bye-bye, Dad. Love you. See you later. Love you. Bye,” Y/n said in a flurry.

“Yep, love you too. Bye,” he replied.

Y/n ended the call.

Jonathan chuckled, "Nice little goodbye," he remarked about how she ended the call.

Y/n smiled, "That’s how I say bye to my family... been doing it for years, just a habit, I guess."

“Your mum wasn’t there?” Jonathan asked.

“Nah, my parents are split. May I call her too?” Y/n asked.

Jonathan nodded, and she dialed her mum’s number, waiting patiently while it rang.

“Hello, Karen speaking?” her mum answered.

“Mum, it’s me,” Y/n said, feeling a lot more relaxed after talking to her dad.

“Fucking heck, Y/n! Why haven’t you been answering!” her mother exclaimed, quite similar to her dad's reaction. Jonathan couldn’t help but chuckle.

“I’m sorry, Mum. I’ve just talked to Dad. My bloody phone got messed up ages ago, and I haven’t been able to replace it. I’m sorry,” Y/n explained.

Her mother sighed on the other end. “Fuck, thought you were bloody dead,” her mum said, and she chuckled a little.

“I know, I’m sorry, Mum. I have to go now though. I will call you later, okay?” Y/n said.

“You better darn well. My baby, call me!” Her mum insisted.

“Okay, bye-bye, Mummy. Love you, bye-bye, see you later, bye,” Y/n said before hanging up.

“Well... your parents were quite...” Jonathan tried to think of a word.

“Aggressive bunch, they are.” Y/n smiled and laughed.

Jonathan chuckled with her. It was a rare sight as of late—Y/n being genuinely happy. She set the phone down on the couch and practically jumped into his arms. He was taken aback for a moment but instinctively held her tightly.

“Thank you so much, Jonathan. You don’t know how much this really means to me...” Y/n said, her words filled with gratitude, and she kissed him on the cheek.

Jonathan felt his face heat up, a warmth spreading from the spot where her lips had touched. Y/n didn’t seem to realize the impact of her gesture, but for Jonathan, it was a moment he couldn’t easily forget.

As Y/n held him, the pain from his injuries seemed to fade into the background. In that moment, the touch of another person, especially someone like Y/n, made Jonathan feel a warmth he had long forgotten. Despite the injuries and the struggles, he couldn't bring himself to let go. It felt like an anchor in the chaos of his life.

For a while, they stayed like that, a silent understanding passing between them. The atmosphere was both fragile and comforting, and Jonathan found himself appreciating the rare companionship he had stumbled upon.

Y/n settled back onto the couch, her enthusiasm evident. "So, I'm assuming you got a couple of days off work? Can't go in looking like that," she remarked with a smirk.

Jonathan, still a little stunned, nodded as he took a seat. "I'll give my body a rest for the day, then go in tomorrow," he replied.

Y/n's smile widened. "Well! I was thinking... we could play some card games. I saw a pack in one of the boxes you got me," she suggested.

Jonathan raised an eyebrow, his voice carrying a hint of judgment, "You want to play card games?"

Y/n looked down, a mix of embarrassment and disappointment crossing her face. "We don't have to... I'm sorry."

Jonathan sighed. "Go get your cards."

Y/n lit up, her disappointment turning into excitement, and she rushed up the stairs to grab the cards. Y/n returned with the pack of cards, excitement evident in her eyes. She spread them out on the coffee table and motioned for Jonathan to join her. He hesitated for a moment before lowering himself onto the couch, sitting across from her.

As they played, the atmosphere shifted from awkward to surprisingly comfortable. Y/n's laughter echoed in the warehouse, and even Jonathan found himself smiling at her infectious joy. The card game became a welcomed distraction, a break from the unusual and challenging routine of their days.

As the game progressed, Jonathan couldn't help but appreciate the simplicity of the moment, something he had almost forgotten amidst the chaos of his life. The playful banter and shared laughter made the time pass swiftly, and for once, the warehouse felt less like a prison and more like a peculiar refuge.

In the midst of the card game, Y/n glanced at Jonathan, a genuine smile on her face. "See? It's not that bad, right?" she said, her eyes searching for a hint of agreement in his gaze.

Before Jonathan could respond, a knock echoed through the warehouse, causing both of them to freeze. 

"Go to your bed," Jonathan demanded, his eyes fixed on the door.

Y/n swiftly rose from the floor and sprinted up the stairs. Peering over the balcony from the second floor, she observed Jonathan grabbing a canister of his toxin before approaching the door cautiously.

Jonathan opened the door a crack and peered through, "Fucking hell, Nigma," he muttered, his guard dropping.

Edward pushed the door open and strolled in. "Good to see you haven't moved your safe house," he remarked.

"I see you're out of Arkham. Hope you haven't come here for revenge," Jonathan said.

"No, no, I had my fun with you already," Edward replied.

He sauntered over to the couch, picked up the newspaper, and casually flipped open the crossword puzzle. As he kicked his legs up on the table, his eyes fell on the laid-out cards.

"Uh, I see you brought her back to your hideout," the Riddler commented.

Y/n took a sharp breath and hastily hid behind the balcony wall.

"Leave her alone, Nigma," Jonathan warned, heading toward his work station.

“Don’t worry your little head, Crow-boy. I have no intentions of hurting her,” Nigma said with a sinister smirk.

“Why are you here?” Jonathan asked, growing impatient.

Edward filled in the words on his puzzel, seemingly unbothered by the atmosphere. "Just thought I'd check in, see how you've been," he replied cryptically. "Word on the street is that the Scarecrow is going soft. It seems you may have some enemies that would benefit from such information."

Jonathan's eyes narrowed. "I'm not interested in your gossip, Nigma. Why are you really here?"

Edward sighed dramatically. "Fine, fine. I need a favor. A little collaboration, if you will."

"A collaboration?" Jonathan scoffed. "Why on earth would I help you?"

Edward leaned back, a sly grin on his face. "Because, dear Scarecrow, this involves our mutual friend, the Batman."

Y/n's curiosity heightened, and she quietly edged closer to the balcony railing, trying to catch every word of their conversation.

“My identity remains unknown, so the Batman's antics don't effect me much. I prefer to stay under his radar and focus on my own experiments. What do you offer in return for my help?" Jonathan asked.

Edward leaned back, a cunning grin on his face. "With your little secret out, you might find yourself in need of protection. I can offer that, among other things."

Jonathan dismissed the notion with a scoff. "I don't need your protection."

Edward, however, persisted, his eyes flickering towards the hidden Y/n. "Maybe you don't, but she does."

"..Who knows?" Jonathan mused.

"Even though I have two wings, I'm a bird that cannot fly. I often like to swim, and on ice is where I dry," The Riddler cryptically remarked.

The reference was not lost on Jonathan. "So what? I've never had issues with him," he replied.

"Maybe not, but you've had many with his new partner..." Edward smirked, his tone laden with implication.

Jonathan sighed, realizing that the Riddler was determined to make things complicated. "And who might that be?"

Edward continued his enigmatic banter, saying, “I’m something made of metal, although I am not a bell. I am something that is round, you throw in a wishing well.”

Jonathan couldn't help but roll his eyes. “He has no right to be angry; he was the one who double-crossed me,” he retorted.

Y/n chuckled softly, appreciating the unintentional pun in Jonathan's response.

“Well, either way, you need me. I’ll be back in a couple of days,” Edward declared, rising from the couch.

“Farewell, Crane. So long, Doll,” Edward added as he walked toward the door, prompting Y/n to stand from her hiding spot behind the balcony and wave him goodbye.

Y/n made her way back downstairs, eager to continue their card game, only for Jonathan to stride toward the door. "Wait, where are you going?" she asked, concern etching her voice.

"I have to go out for a bit," Jonathan replied.

Y/n quickly caught up to him, grasping his arm to stop him. "But you're hurt! And you're always out! A-and what if the Riddler's right? What if someone comes to hurt me?" Her desperation was evident in her rapid rambling.

Jonathan looked back at her, attempting to reason, "I'm doing this for your benefit."

"But I don't want you to leave me, I'm lonely here," Y/n admitted, her vulnerability laid bare.

"I can get you a cat if you'd like," Jonathan suggested, attempting to lighten the mood.

"But I want you!" Y/n insisted. "Please! I love you!" Y/n pleaded desperately, willing to say anything to keep him there.

Jonathan sighed, his gaze fixed on her. "Don't say that. I don't want you to lie to me just for me to stay," he said.

"But...I do care about you. You're my friend," Y/n insisted, genuine emotion in her words.

Jonathan looked away, deep in thought. "I'll stay with you until you go to sleep, and I'll come back in the morning," he finally agreed.

Her face lit up with a smile, and she eagerly pulled him back to the table, ready to continue their card game.

True to his word, Jonathan stayed with her for the remainder of the day. Y/n had never felt more content. When she eventually dozed off on the couch, Jonathan gently carried her to bed. Before leaving for the night, he planted a soft kiss on her forehead, a gesture that lingered in her dreams.

-

Several weeks had passed since the unexpected visit from the Riddler to Jonathan's hideout. During this time, Jonathan had altered his routine, dedicating more time to Y/n when he was at home. Y/n appreciated this change, and she noticed that he had also granted her more freedom, allowing her to contact her family whenever she pleased. Surprisingly, she hadn't made any attempts to call for help, a fact that pleased Jonathan.

Y/n had always found Jonathan attractive, even when he was her professor. In these recent weeks, she had the opportunity to appreciate him even more. Up close, he was undeniably captivating, and she grew to love his personality, which was no longer hidden behind the professional facade.

She had started inviting him to sleep in the bed with her. After the first night in which she dragged his injured body to bed, she found reasons for him to join her, making excuses to have him in bed beside her. Whether it was engaging in late-night conversations or persuading him to read to her, she wanted him close. She felt guilty about him always sleeping on the couch, so now she made sure he shared the bed with her, providing a sense of comfort for both of them.

Y/n's developing crush on Jonathan wasn’t hard to spot, at least she thought so. She found herself captivated by his presence and the more relaxed atmosphere that had settled between them. It wasn't just admiration for his looks, but an appreciation for the person he was beneath the intimidating exterior.

One evening, as they sat on the couch watching a movie, Y/n couldn't help but inch a little closer. She glanced at Jonathan, wondering if he noticed the subtle shift in dynamics. The air seemed charged with unspoken emotions, and Y/n's heart fluttered as she realized the line between friendship and something more was beginning to blur.

Jonathan perceived Y/n's sudden clinginess as genuine friendliness. He appreciated her company, it was a rare and unexpected connection, given his reclusive nature and the awkwards circumstances. Unaware of the subtle shifts in Y/n's emotions, he valued her presence as a comforting and genuine friendship, even if he desired more.

-

Y/n laid on her bed, engrossed in her book, anticipating Jonathan's return. The serenity was abruptly shattered by the rattling of the warehouse door. A surge of anxiety coursed through her veins. Puzzled, she questioned why Jonathan, who had the keys, would resort to such fumbling with the door. The disquiet intensified as frustrated yells echoed from beyond.

The situation escalated when forceful bangs reverberated, as if an unknown force sought to pry the door open. However, the reinforced fortifications, courtesy of Jonathan and Edward, stood resilient against the onslaught. The perplexing events unfolded, leaving Y/n on edge, contemplating the identity of the uninvited visitor.

Y/n's trembling hands reached for the budget phone Jonathan had provided her. She anxiously dialed his number, praying for a swift response. "Pick up, Jonathan, please," she whispered to herself.

"Y/n?" Jonathan's voice finally came through.

"Jonathan, I think someone's trying to break in," Y/n whispered urgently.

She could discern the sounds of hurried activity on Jonathan's end of the line. "You need to listen to me. I want you to go to my desk and feel underneath the second drawer for a key."

Y/n rushed down the stairs and followed Jonathan's instructions. She felt around the bottom of the drawer and found a key taped to the underside. "I've got it," Y/n said, her voice trembling with anxiety.

"Go to the bathroom, open the locked cabinet, move everything out of the way, there should be a nail, pull it up, and there is a hole. Get in the hole and stay there," Jonathan instructed urgently.

Y/n hurried to the bathroom, ignoring the persistent banging on the door. Unlocking the bathroom cabinet, she peered inside. The cardboard was filled with soaps and other bathroom clutter. She quickly moved everything to the adjacent cabinet, making it appear less suspicious than if it were scattered across the floor.

Just as he described, there was a nail. Y/n pulled it up, revealing a hole big enough for her to sit in comfortably. She crawled into the cabinet and closed the door, hesitating to sit down as the fear of claustrophobia began to creep up on her. She remained standing, caught between the safety of the hole and the reality of the cabinet.

“I-I'm in the hole," Y/n said, her voice trembling with anxiety.

"Stay there, I'm on my way. Put the phone on speaker; I want to hear everything. But keep quiet," Jonathan instructed, his voice calm but firm.

Y/n carefully put the phone on speaker, clutching it tightly as she listened to the ominous sounds of the intruder trying to force their way into the warehouse. The tension in the air was palpable, and Y/n couldn't shake the fear that gripped her.

"Inside the hole, you can pull the nail down, so it appears normal. If you hear someone getting close, that nail has to be down," Jonathan instructed, his voice carrying a sense of urgency.

Y/n nodded, even though he couldn't see her, and carefully pulled the nail back down. The idea of someone being so close was unsettling, and the weight of the situation pressed on her. She strained to hear any movement outside the bathroom, her senses heightened in the tense silence.

The sound of the door being forced open sent a shiver down her spine, stealing her breath away. Crouching down in the confined space, she closed the lid of the hole, her hands trembling. A sense of numbness enveloped her as the reality of the situation sank in. Though she knew Jonathan was still on the line, she had never felt so alone.

The intruders made their way into the warehouse, creating a racket of noise as they tossed items around the room. Y/n strained to hear their voices or catch any hint of their intentions, her anxiety intensifying with each passing moment.

Y/n could hear muffled voices and the thud of footsteps echoing through the warehouse. There was no light in the small space, leaving her in complete darkness. Every sound outside intensified her fear, making her more aware of her vulnerability in that cramped hiding spot.

The intruders' voices grew louder, but their words remained indistinct. Y/n strained to understand their motives, her mind racing with the possibilities of who they might be and why they were there. The uncertainty weighed heavily on her, intensifying the claustrophobia of the hidden space.

As the minutes passed like hours, Y/n's senses heightened. She could feel the tension in the air, her breaths becoming shallower. The sounds of the intruders searching the warehouse became more methodical, as if they were getting closer to her hiding spot. Every creak and shuffle outside amplified her anxiety.

Y/n heard the bathroom door swing open, and her body froze in place. The slightest movement could betray her presence. She trembled, her breaths syncing with the rhythm of her fear. While the likelihood of being discovered seemed remote, the possibility lingered..

Unexpectedly, the atmosphere outside the hiding spot erupted with terrified screams. "Get it off me!" someone shouted in agony. Y/n's heart pounded as the cacophony of panic unfolded around her. It dawned on her—Jonathan had devised a defense mechanism, likely dispersing fear gas to deter the intruders.

A mix of relief and dread filled her. The fear gas was a double-edged sword; it protected her but also induced intense anxiety in those outside the hole. Y/n instinctively covered her nose, mindful of the invisible tendrils of the gas that might seep into her hiding place. The muffled cries and chaos persisted, a testament to the effectiveness of Jonathan's unconventional security measures.

The screams outside the hole intensified, echoing through the warehouse. Y/n could hear the desperate cries for relief from the invisible grip of fear. The muffled chaos hinted at the effectiveness of Jonathan's defense mechanism — the fear gas.

Huddled in the cramped space, Y/n realized the gravity of the situation. Jonathan had strategically prepared for such a threat, deploying a countermeasure to incapacitate anyone who posed a danger. The fear gas, notorious for inducing hallucinations and terror, had effectively turned the tables.

As she covered her nose, Y/n couldn't help but feel a strange mixture of relief and anxiety. The screams continued, and she could only imagine the surreal scenes unfolding just beyond her concealed refuge. The unsettling knowledge that the gas was both a safeguard and a reminder of Jonathan's darker capabilities lingered in her mind.

Through the phone, Jonathan's voice reassured her, "It's okay, Y/n. They won't harm you. Stay in the hole until I tell you it's safe."

The minutes stretched as Y/n waited anxiously, her senses heightened by the confined space and the lingering scent of the fear gas. The aftermath echoed through the warehouse as the intruders succumbed to the fear gas, collapsing in a collective unconsciousness. The once chaotic atmosphere now transitioned into an eerie stillness, broken only by the measured steps of someone approaching the bathroom. Y/n's senses heightened, detecting a calm and deliberate presence nearing her hiding place.

The cabinet door swung open, and a knock resonated from above. "Y/n, it's me. You're safe," it was Jonathan, his familiar voice cutting through the residual tension. Y/n exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she was holding and pushed the cabinet lid open.

Greeted by Jonathan in his Scarecrow mask, Y/n wasted no time. She pulled him into a tight embrace, her racing heartbeat finally slowing as she clung to him. Panting, tears welled in her eyes, a mixture of relief and lingering fear finding an outlet.

Jonathan reciprocated the hug, pulling her out of the cramped hiding spot. He placed a gas mask over her face, ensuring she wouldn't inhale any lingering fear gas. Despite the lingering tension in the air, the embrace provided a momentary sanctuary, a shared understanding of the vulnerability they had just faced together.

"We have to go; it's not safe here for a while," Jonathan declared, urging her to stand.

"W-where?" Y/n inquired, uncertainty lacing her voice.

"Nigma's finding a place. I'm taking you to my old apartment," Jonathan explained as he guided her out of the bathroom. They made their way to her bedroom, ascending the stairs amid the scattered and unconscious intruders. The once orderly space now lay in chaos.

"Bring what you need for tonight, we'll grab the rest later," Jonathan instructed, a sense of urgency in his voice.

Y/n gathered her essentials - a pillow and her stuffed toy. As she waited by the stairs, Jonathan navigated through the disarray, picking up her current book, which had been tossed around in the commotion.

He led her out of the building, rushing through the chaos, and they reached his car. Jonathan removed his mask before driving away. It was Y/n's first glimpse outside of the warehouse, revealing a container storage area with various warehouses. Beyond the containers, the vast expanse of the sea unfolded before them.

She couldn't fathom the fact that she was leaving. Surprisingly, she found herself reluctant to part with the warehouse, but more significantly, with Jonathan. Despite growing attached to the peculiar space, she was strangely content leaving it behind, especially since Jonathan was accompanying her.

As they drove through the Narrows, they eventually arrived at an apartment complex. To her surprise, it didn't mirror the bad state of the rest of the Narrows, instead, it appeared relatively normal. Jonathan swiftly went to her side of the car, opening the door and assisting her out.

He guided her inside the building, avoiding the gaze of the occasional passerby. Navigating through the hallways, he led her to his apartment. Upon opening the door, the interior seemed scarcely lived in, giving off an air of minimalism. She could clearly see where his couch used to be and the tv that he moved to his hideout.

"When were you here last?" Y/n inquired, taking notice of the visible dust settling in the room.

"A couple of weeks ago," Jonathan replied.

Jonathan hesitated for a moment, clearly uncomfortable with the idea of having someone in his personal space. Nevertheless, he decided to let her be there because there was no where else he could keep her safe. He took her to what seemed to be his bedroom, also with the noticeable layer of dust laying across everything.

As Y/n placed her pillow on the bed and climbed on with her toy, Jonathan followed suit, pulling back the covers and helping her get tucked in. Just as he was about to move away, Y/n clung to his hand, “Where are ou going?”

"You don’t need to worry, Y/n. I’m not going to leave you, not tonight," he reassured her as he walked to the other side of the bed, joining her under the covers.

Y/n moved closer to him as he settled into the bed, laying her head on his side. He wrapped his arm around her, holding her tightly. 

"Go to sleep, Y/n," Jonathan whispered.

Y/n closed her eyes, holding both her toy and Jonathan tightly. The rhythmic sound of their combined breaths created a soothing melody, gradually lulling her into a peaceful slumber.

-

Waking up in this unfamiliar environment felt peculiar for Y/n. The cacophony of the Narrows served as her alarm clock, and as she opened her eyes, she found Jonathan still beside her, seemingly unchanged from the night before.

"Jonathan?" Y/n spoke.

"Did you sleep fine?" Jonathan inquired.

"Yeah... I'm fine, I think," Y/n replied.

"I want to talk to you about something," Jonathan stated.

"Mhmm?" Y/n hummed, intrigued by what he had to say.

Jonathan turned to face her, his eyes filled with a mix of emotions. "I've been thinking, and... I believe it's time to discuss your future, Y/n."

Y/n shifted slightly, intrigued yet unsure of where the conversation would lead. "What do you mean, Jonathan?"

He took a deep breath before continuing, "it’s been long enough, I think you can go now…” Jonathan said.

“W-what?” Y/n could barely speak.

“I trust you won’t say anything that will ruin the reputation I’ve built for myself, so I think you can go back to... whatever you were doing before,” Jonathan said.

“But I don’t want to leave you,” Y/n replied, her eyes welling with tears.

“Y/n, it’s not healthy for you to be locked up with me,” Jonathan tried to explain.

“Oh, fuck off! You didn’t give a damn when you took me in the first place!” Y/n yelled.

“Y/n, please... I don’t want you to be fucked up like this,” Jonathan said, looking away, his face hardened.

“That’s not fair! You should have thought about that before!” Y/n yelled, standing up from the bed and stomping her foot on the ground.

“I took you for selfish reasons, I will admit that, but you were never meant to be with me forever,” Jonathan said.

“Then why can’t I stay for selfish reasons?” Y/n asked.

“And why would you want to stay with me, hmm? I’m your professor who’s obsessed with you! I’m the one who kidnapped you! I’m the Scarecrow!” Jonathan yelled back, frustrated.

“Because I love you, Jonathan!” Y/n cried, tears pouring from her eyes.

Jonathan shook his head. “You can’t just say that, Y/n.”

“Yes, I can! Because it’s true!” Y/n yelled.

“But it’s not. You don’t really love me, Y/n. You’re confused,” Jonathan said, coming closer to her. He held her face in his palms as she cried.

“No, I do love you, Jonathan!” Y/n insisted.

“Y/n, I can’t keep you hidden,” Jonathan said.

“Then don’t! Just don’t leave me!” Y/n cried.

“I…I don’t know if our relationship will stay the same, Y/n. I don’t know if I can control myself,” Jonathan confessed.

“So! I don’t want it to be the same, I want more!” Y/n insisted.

“W-we’ll just see how it goes,” Jonathan said, not quite looking at her.

Y/n sighed with relief, “Thank you.”

“We will just stay here for a while…just before we find a new place to live. You’ll be allowed to leave whenever you wish, and you can do whatever you please. I won’t hold you back any longer,” Jonathan explained.

Y/n nodded, jumping back on the bed. Jonathan sighed, still wrestling with his internal struggles. He sat down on the edge of the bed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. Y/n scooted closer to him, her eyes searching his troubled expression.

“I just don’t want to hurt you, Y/n. I've done terrible things, and I can’t promise it won’t happen again,” Jonathan admitted, his voice heavy with the weight of his past actions.

“I can handle it. I want to be with you, Jonathan,” Y/n said, determination in her eyes. “We can work through it together.”

Jonathan glanced at her, his eyes revealing a mix of gratitude and concern. He remained silent for a moment before finally nodding. “Okay. We’ll take it one step at a time.”

Y/n smiled, relieved that he was willing to give their relationship a chance. They spent the rest of the day in the apartment, discussing their plans for the future and enjoying each other’s company without the confines of the apartment.

-

Edward had found a new hideout a week later, nestled further on the outskirts of Gotham, which bore a semblance to the warehouse they had left behind. Jonathan meticulously arranged the space to mimic the comfort of a home while maintaining the necessary elements for his work. The dimly lit room now had a certain warmth, thanks to a few strategically placed lamps, and the air carried a faint scent of a vanilla-scented candle that Y/n insisted on bringing.

As Y/n explored the room, she noticed familiar items from their previous hideout, each carefully placed to recreate the atmosphere they had grown accustomed to. The bed, although a bit sturdier, still held the same comforting aura. The bookshelves were adorned with a mix of academic literature and some novels Y/n had enjoyed.

Jonathan, usually reserved and focused on his work, couldn't help but crack a small smile as he observed Y/n's appreciation for the effort he put into making the new hideout feel like a home.

“We should be safe here for a while,” Jonathan commented, glancing around the room. “Hopefully, no unexpected guests this time.”

Y/n chuckled, “Fingers crossed. But if they do show up, we can handle it together.”

The understanding between them had grown, forged through the challenges they faced together. Jonathan appreciated Y/n's resilience and her willingness to stand by him, despite the risks involved. As they settled into their new hideout, the sense of companionship and shared purpose became the foundation of their unconventional relationship.

Y/n embraced the newfound freedom to live her life as she did before, with the added company of Jonathan. The bed, once solely hers, now became a shared space where they both found comfort and solace. The boundaries between their personal spaces blurred, and the room echoed with a shared sense of belonging.

In the soft glow of the lamplight, Y/n curled up on the bed with a book, the rhythmic turning of pages accompanying the occasional sound of Jonathan working on his experiments. It was a harmonious coexistence, where the solitude of their individual lives melded seamlessly with the shared moments in their hideout.

As Y/n glanced over at Jonathan, she couldn't help but marvel at how their lives had intertwined, creating a tapestry of shared experiences. The room, once a sterile workspace, now bore the imprints of their cohabitation—a testament to the unconventional but genuine connection they had formed.

She brushed aside the notion that their relationship had a fucked up start, cherishing the imperfections that had paved the way for something beautiful. In her eyes, the unorthodox beginning only added depth to the intricate tapestry of their connection. Despite its unconventional nature, their relationship had blossomed into a perfect blend of shared moments, understanding, and genuine affection.

-

A/N: The ending was a bit boring, I will admit, but I couldn't think of how else to end it. But I did enjoy writing a little part two for this one so here it is! Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it and feel free to request! 💚

[slashertown]

Note: okay spring bonnie/william afton brainrot took over so here's some filler hcs of how i think lillard!afton would handle an obsession until i can get out of writer's block and get to work on something will x reader related :') tw: implied murder???, manipulation/gaslighting, unhealthy relationships..? i think that's it (divider by @/mmadeinheavenn)

❥ He's not much of a people person, so he'll put on a facade to lure anyone who he deems suitable to help out with his plans

❥ His only exception would be you. Despite his rough, dominating exterior, he'd end up with a soft spot for you (bonus points if your favorite animal is a rabbit)

❥ William would very much get attached to you over time to the point it becomes an obsession. Hell, he's the one who made sure you had to stay after closing hours and finish up more work just so he can be around you.

❥ Once your guys' relationship evolves after a while, he'd doodle some ideas for a suit of your own, whether or not you follow in his footsteps, but best believe he'll ask you what you want added to it, as well as adding his own personal touch to it

❥ (If you give him artistic freedom with the design for your suit, he's overjoyed and probably has an overfilled wastebasket as he wants it to be fitting enough)

❥ At first, he'd be conflicted with revealing himself to you as William Afton, but I think he'd manipulate you well enough into believing he's a changed man just so he can keep you around and you don't ask too many questions.

❥ He isn't fond of the idea of killing you, but he'd place a knife to your neck while holding you against himself, should you ever bring up the subject of his crimes and think about snitching and just.. mention it directly. He's just all bark, no bite <3

❥ Once the attachment sets in for you, you'd probably be the only one who sees his soft side. Think breakfast in bed, bouquets as a gift, maybe a bunny plushie or two, and dinner at his place (you come to find out that he's a pretty good cook)

❥ Has probably gaslighted you into believing he's all you'll ever need in a man or anyone for that matter. As long as he has you, then he's not much trouble at all, given you don't rat him out to the police.

❥ I like to think he's a very good listener, so if anything's troubling you and you decide to vent about it, he'd try and make you smile? He's just enamored with your very existence at this point.

❥ By the time you're both living together, he'd refer to you as his wife/husband, even if you're not married, but you're so attached to him, that he doesn't see an issue with it. If you're happy, he's happy.

[hoshizora-the-yume]

I am really happy and grateful to be the first one to request here ehehe

I would love to see the short romance story of the duke paxley aamon x my oc😋... which will be about my oc being stalker who follow whereever he go.. but He knew about it and wanted to tease her ✌

𝐀𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐎𝐂

A/N: This is rather lighthearted in tone since I thought it would fit your request, Anon. Honestly, this is my first time doing requests so I hope this didn’t turn out too bad

SFW, Oneshot

Nonchalant as they come, Delrae was a girl who appeared as though she had not a care in the world. With an inscrutable face and a vacant gaze, she barely, if ever showed interest towards anything… All except for one thing, or in this case, person.

Aamon Paxley, the strikingly ice cold Duke of Shards. Like a rose surrounded in thorns, his beautiful visage belied a sharp tongue and sometimes, callous disposition.

This man had a certain mystique to him that even Delrae couldn’t resist. At first, it was mere curiosity, a slight urge if you will. But as time went on, it grew stronger and stronger until it evolved into an obsession.

Despite that, Delrae was too bashful to actually face him herself. Perhaps, it was a fear of rejection but she would always stand back in the shadows as she admired Aamon from afar. 

“T-There he is…” While hiding behind a tree, Delrae let out a small squeal at the sight of a certain duke. A certain duke was out and about on his daily morning walk, just minding his own business as he got his daily sunlight in the forest. 

Delrae was trying her best not to get caught, though the burning desire to just jump out and introduce herself was hard to suppress. If just for a second, she could reach out and touch him…

“Is someone there?” Aamon turned around to take a look.

In a panic, Delrae dived into a nearby bush, falling on her stomach. Before she could let out a yelp, she bit her lip to keep her voice from escaping. 

“Huh… Must have been a woodland critter.” 

Had Delrae not hid herself just in time, she would have been spotted for sure. If Aamon saw her, how would he even react? Just thinking about that made her heart rate shoot up.

Amidst a myriad of anxious thoughts, Delrae failed to realize that Aamon was already gone. By the time she did, she became frantic. “Where is he now?”

Although it took quite a while, Delrae eventually did find Aamon. As usual, he was attending to his duties as a Duke. 

From a distance, Delrae observed Aamon as he talked to an elderly woman. It appears that the Duke showed up to dismantle a conflict between neighbors. 

Despite being an outsider to the nobility class, Delrae knew enough about their responsibilities. However, most nobles didn’t own up to these duties. Thus, she found it unusual that Aamon would go out of his way to show up at a commoner’s house. 

Seeing a side to the man that she had never seen before, Delrae felt herself become more and more enamored with him. Her heart raced quickly, as heat rose to her cheeks. 

Delrae was, however, saddled with slight guilt. Whenever she thought of Aamon as merely a cold-hearted man, she didn’t feel as bad about what she was doing. But after she saw a more earnest, soft side to him, it allowed her to see him in a different light. 

That’s why… When Aamon left the place, Delrae just let him go this time. Instead, she walked away and towards the town square where she sat on the ledge of a fountain. 

Although Delrae ultimately decided to steer clear of Aamon, a part of her wanted to see him again. Regardless, she was afraid to face him as she was, leaving her to sigh and ponder. 

Delrae was about to leave until she heard a voice. When she turned to see who it was, she was filled with surprise—though her expression didn’t show it.

“What are you doing here all alone, young lady?” Before her, Aamon seemed to be speaking directly to her. “This fountain is a bit decrepit, so I advise you not to sit there.”

The Duke emanated an aura of authority. As if on cue, Delrae removed herself from the ledge of the fountain. “Sorry.”

“You didn’t answer my question yet.”

“Oh yeah. I’m just, well, thinking.”

“I suppose I can accept that explanation.”

If Delrae wasn’t frozen in place from nervousness, she would just get up and run away right now. It was almost as if Aamon’s gaze was the one keeping her frozen.

“Your name is Delrae, am I right? Young lady.” At the mention of her name, Delrae’s poker face broke. 

“How did you know that…?”

“Asking me questions like that when you’ve been stalking me these past days… What audacity.”

Now, Delrae was really sure that she’s cornered. Aamon knew all along, he was just feigning ignorance. 

“I-I…” She scrambled for any sort of explanation, but to no avail. Giving up, she just said this. “You knew?”

“I’m no buffoon, of course I would.” Aamon shook his head. “However… I let it be, because you were intriguing to me.”

“Intriguing? What do you mean by that?”

Hmmm… I can’t put my finger on it, but something about you is rather cute.”

“C-Cute?”

“Delrae, I want to know more about you.”

[tree-chained-to-clock-lover]

I know you love Tree being chained to Clock but I'm wondering, do you have any other BFDI character duos being chained to each other that you also enjoy. Though perhaps not as much as Tree being chained to Clock, obviously.

How far can the chain experiments go

Why I love Tree chained to Clock is because of their weaknesses. Tree is hypocritical, self-absorbed and obnoxious. He is on Death PACT despite having an interest in death, and arguably not caring if somebody dies. Clock is celebrity-obsessed, joining The Losers and The S for that reason. He is enamored by Loser who accepts it, while Winner actively pushes him away, causing his obsessive nature to grow. They work well chained together because they both act self-righteous, to greater or lesser extents, that façade would fall apart and they'd irritate each other, learning to grow and be humbled as a result.

I don't think about chaining other characters together, however Liy and Foldy would be interesting. Liy is manipulative and impulsive, while Foldy is vengeful and passive. They're both strong, complain and have a dislike for each other. There is potential for growth or further conflict.

[miupow]

You asked for werewolf skz asks, but please bless us with your Crave universe skz headcanons of what they're all like within the pack, and with reader! I beg on my knees! 🙏

oh cee my beloved.. you always know just what to ask to get me yapping ♥️

craveverse [ skz edition ] — meet the pack !

CHAN ; pack leader !

takes his position as pack leader very seriously. once a gentle, hardworking village boy named christopher, attacked and turned and left to die, chan sympathizes with reader the most in terms of her humanness and will often defend her when she is at odds with the other boys. deeply protective over her and his pack. doesn't mind being teased or argued with (and is often the butt of jokes) but he expects his orders to be followed, and he will always have the final say.

MINHO ; chan's right hand man

all pack decisions go through minho first before they go through chan. while chan is a great leader, minho is known for having the most brains, and being the most logical when it comes to solving problems. chan relies on him heavily for sharing the burden of taking care of his pack, and respects his opinion even if he disagrees. he was totally against bringing you into the pack and takes it out on you by being a cold, aloof meanie... but you're just so cute and vulnerable... he cannot stand bratty behavior, and will put you back in your place without hesitating <3

CHANGBIN ; second bicep in command

if minho is chan's right hand man, then changbin is his left lol. he may be strong and intimidating, but he really is just a sweet, thoughtful gentleman!! protective over the younger boys and is always worried about what is in the best interest of everyone rather than focusing on what he wants, so selfless and in control of his instincts <3 but you make him think in selfish, primal ways like never before..

HYUNJIN ; conflicted

suffers from middle child syndrome lol, does what he wants because he refuses to listen to any orders that don't directly benefit him (or unless it's an emergency). hes loveable and kind, a gentle soul that loves art, but he just can't get enough of seeing how far he can push you until you break, until the others intervene... he's fine with you being a little plaything for them, but he's not sure if he's as fine with his packmates quickly developing feelings for you...

JISUNG ; menace to society

the others just enable his chaotic and unhinged behavior tbh. he's constantly getting in trouble for not following orders but he usually gets off with just a slap on the wrist because he's just a silly little guy !! he was the one who begged for his pack to keep you once they got ahold of you, just so enamored with the little human girl who made his life more interesting and made his chest feel so funny... and he's not shy to show you and others about how obsessed he is with you

FELIX ; simply sunshine !

he wasn't all that into the pack keeping you captive, but if that's what the others wanted he wouldn't fight them... and besides, he's growing more and more understanding of why they wanted to keep you around. you're just so sweet, makes his heart flutter and his freckled cheeks heat up, he just wants to be the reason why you're smiling so he does all he can to make you happy and comfortable... he would never take advantage of you though, "play" with you like his packmates do! not unless you wanted him to...

SEUNGMIN ; champion tsundere

he hates humans because of his dark past, his life before he joined his new family... and that deep seated hatred most certainly extends to you, a weak, sniffling little human girl getting in the way of everything and making his life more complicated. just a big old meanie to you, so cold and nasty, makes you cry even... but behind his seemingly impenetrable walls he's slowly growing a soft spot for you he cannot ignore. now on top of his bullying he's grown incredibly protective of you; you're just like a little pup to him, stupid and innocent and in need of protecting. the boys know exactly how he's feeling though, they just know him far too well.. and they tease him relentlessly for it.

JEONGIN ; baby alpha !

youngest pack member, sweet and energetic with a heart of gold! but he's still young, and doesn't have the greatest control over his wolfish instincts... he just can't help but lose control sometimes, scares reader off with his sudden aggression or possessiveness. and sure, maybe he's not the best at following the rules, or relying on his mind rather than his heart... it doesn't help that he's coddled by his older packmates; he just doesn't know any better, okay?

[hrodvitnon]

Just finished my retread of Abraxas and god is it still one of my favorite things ever. Also got me thinking of some headcanons for shit, as well as a few questions.

Headcanons:

-The defender titans all tend to have a growing appreciation for human music as Abdaxas introduces it to them. Ladon becomes enamored with metal, Mothra always appreciates a good classical symphony, Baragon is obsessed with bubblegum pop, Leo likes musicals Godzilla has taken a liking to blues and older outlaw country, and Rodan surprisingly enough has developed a taste for jazz. Some of the others like to tease him about it.

-Methuselah returns to Berezniki every year to pay tribute to Thor, having been friends in their youth. He leaves a stone for him to each time.

-Manda has taken to exploring areas he really shouldn’t when paling around with Baragon and Varan. Anguirus and Abraxas constantly have to come get them like annoyed parents.

-Queen MUTO eventually comes to call Scylla a friend, proving herself different that her genocidal brethren.

-The trafficking of Titan dna still continues after Jonah’s death, with the main trafficker being on Dr Oglivy Hu, who also has his sights set on building a mechanical counterpart to a certain ape Titan.

Gorosaurus: a Titan who once left his territory on Mondo Island to explore Skull Island, only to be dealt a swift beating by Kong and forced to return home. Ultimately a defender, Gorosaurus has developed a begrudging respect for the great ape, and an odd friendship with Ladon. Kind hearted, but somewhat lacking in common sense and susceptible to being distracted by food, he still nevertheless will be on the front lines of battle should any monster ever threaten earth again.

Gabara: a smaller and younger Titan, Gabara is extremely childish in a way not typical for most titans. With a cruel streak, he attempted to harass Ladon in their first encounter, only to be swiftly shown why that was a very bad idea. Ever since, he’s stuck to terrorizing smaller wildlife populations, often being forced to flee whenever he encounters Ladon again.

Titanosaurus: an old Titan who would rather just stay out of conflict all together, he nevertheless gets dragged into the greater ecosystem once again after a chance encounter with Kiryu. Somewhat of a pacifist, he’s rather reluctant to engage in fights or the like, but if push comes to shove, will respect the call of Godzilla, albeit not without constant complaining all the while.

Battra: mothra’s slightly younger twin brother, he can overall be described as “a prick”. Unlike his sister, he has been in hibernation for most of human history, principally due to him viewing humans as pests. Upon awakening in modern day, he often fights and argues with Mothra in a titanic sinking rivalry, with him viewing Godzilla as a nuisance at best. He is also extremely appalled upon meeting his extended “family”. Eventually, he acquiesces to his sisters wish of not attacking humans, but he’s still very grouchy and not super pleasing to be around. Godzilla wants to smack him back into hibernation, Mothra insists he just needs time to adjust.

As for questions, just wanted to ask about how comfortable you are with people using your Abraxas concepts in their own AU’s? I’m currently working on one and have been wanting to include the characters/events of the story in it, but due to the way the AU is it would require both some broad strokes approach’s to the story, as well as a slight redesign of the titular titan. Is that something you’re comfortable with? Just wanted to ask cause like I said, one of my favorite stories period. Hope you’re doing well and may we all praise pink goji.

Heh, I'm now picturing Monster X starting to tease Rodan with the obvious Bee Movie "ya like jazz?" but then hijacks a nearby sound system to start playing smooth jazz. Manda is definitely at the age where he gets into mischief with friends! I appreciate that Titanosaurus is a "too old for this shit" type of Titan, the sort that would get a free pass from a Gondor Calls for Aid scenario unless numbers are extremely needed; Titano deserves all the naps he can get. Good that Ladon is developing a "do not fuck with" reputation on account of nonlethal encounters, it shows that Papa Goji must be having a positive influence on him.

I'm totally okay with Abraxas concepts or characters being used in other's works! Back when I finished the fic way back when I basically announced that readers are allowed to utilize the AbraxasVerse and its ideas in their own writing. Think of it as a sandbox; everyone's welcome to make their own stories and build castles and play with the characters like action figures.

[zairas-realm-gateway]

when bege met with sanji, he specifically said that he would be marrying the 35th daughter of the charlotte family AND says her name is pudding. he has a nasty history of being perverted towards teenage girls after the timeskip (he literally Turns To Stone upon seeing shirahoshi, who is only 16) and his attitude with pudding is no exception (she even comments on his perversion during the wedding ceremony. there was no "brainwashing" involved, he is just a perv.)

im a sanji fan myself, but you can't turn a blind eye from his behavior towards teenage girls. he is 21 years old in canon after the timeskip. pudding being "mentally 18" is such a gross way to explain why sanji might view her as older than she really is and as someone who was groomed by a pedophile for acting older than i actually was at the time, that phrasing sets off so many red flags in my head.

im not necessarily saying sanji is a pedophile (because i truly dont believe that he is given his attraction to All women and 16 is the lowest age hes acted like that towards), but it is still extremely weird of him and people making fun of him or criticizing that aspect of him is perfectly fine and you shouldn't take it as a personal thing. that is just how oda wrote him. (but hey at least he's not kyros or vander decken who genuinely ARE pedophiles.)

You make some good points.

Alright, I'll take the correction on Bege telling him her name. But that still doesn't give any other details. Sanji isn't told her age, occupation, baking skills, etc.

I have a lot to say on his intricate and nuanced forced relationship with Pudding.

Long post and discussion under the cut

As for for the history with teenage girls post-ts, I think it's just Shirahoshi??? And while I'm not saying that's good, I will say that I am conflicted on some of the characterization in Fishman Island. I haven't read it in a long time so I'm just working off what I remember here. While the plot of Fishman Island is great, I always have some issues with the arc itself. It always feels a little off to me. Like some of the characterizations are just a little wonky here and there throughout the entire arc. It feels like Oda forgot how to write a few characters. It also feels like he's using that arc to see how far he wants to push new gags or personality aspects he's trying to work with after the IRL mini timeskip. Like he doesn't quite know just yet who some of the straw hats are after their time skip. I'm not saying that excuses Sanji's behavior, I'm just saying it makes me conflicted over the legitimacy of Sanji's personality in that arc. Because like Oda doesn't use the "almost die from bloodloss gag" again after fishman island either so it just always kinda feels like Oda was fumbling around in the dark with Sanji (as well as a few others) in Fishman Island. That's just me, though.

As for Sanji being obsessed with Shirahoshi's beauty, wasn't that like the whole thing with her? Wasn't like the entire country obsessed with how pretty she was? I could be mistaken but I thought I remember the citizens being enamored by her as well. I ain't saying it makes it better, I'm just saying that Oda made that a weird prominent detail if I'm remembering it right.

And I didn't say that that Pudding was "mentally 18" nor do I think she is, I said that she could be mistaken for 18 in a quick meeting. Meaning he wouldn't question her age as he actually barely got to talk to her at all. I think he only ever spoke to her like 2-3 times and never for very long or unchaperoned (judging by how Pudding talked about Sanji). Especially since Pudding is an excellent actor and is actively manipulating Sanji in a specific way that Big Mom has coached her to do. Neither family cared if Sanji and Pudding liked each other or cared about what was healthy for them so they would have no reason to let them interact for very long. As someone who was emotionally abused by my mother, when I was a teenage I took on personality traits and speaking patterns of someone older than myself (a common problem with emotional abuse). People often mistook me for being older than I actually was in short conversations. If Sanji never had any actual long conversations with Pudding, he'd have no clue that's she's not actually 18. While this doesn't make things right, it would explain some behaviors.

He doesn't actually want anything to do with her. He just wants to go home.

As for what I consider Sanji basically brainwashing himself is just him talking himself into an obsessive and possibly dissociative mindset. Sanji's under so much duress and his mental health is so incredibly fractured right now that if he's going to survive, his only option is to construct a dreamworld so far out of reality that he's actually happy and in love with Pudding.

Because of the sudden influx of trauma, stress, and crippling hopelessness, Sanji's grasp on reality is quickly crumbling. He needs to take any handhold he can grab. The only handhold he's allowed to take is Pudding. He calls her his "Ray of Hope". And because of this, he throws himself so hard into her orbit that he goes to the extreme of being creepy because now his only grasp on reality is Pudding.

This protective delusional headspace he's in is so strong (again, common for people who have suffered severe trauma and abuse) that he stays in it until he sees her eye. Because he if didn't have this headspace to keep him "calm" beside his would-be murderer, the wedding ceremony on the cake may have ended in actual disaster. And all their plans would be ruined.

After he gets through to Pudding by calling her eye beautiful, the very real danger of him being murdered is gone and he's released from his protective headspace. Which explains why he's so platonic towards her during the escape and all the cake baking despite the fact that she's constantly melting when he even looks at her.

What I am saying is that if Sanji called out for simping on teenage girls was a definable trend in his personality, why is he never all over Carrot? From what I remember (and I could be wrong), he only ever treats her like a little sister. She's young and pretty but still in Zou Sanji simps over the adult women minks rather than Carrot, despite her platonically being all over him (minks are just very affectionate). Hell, he seeks out Pedro more than Carrot.

I'm not saying that Sanji shouldn't be called out for being a fucking perverted idiot. Because he is one. I'm just saying that it pisses me off when people write him off as a one-note creep not worth thinking about instead of taking the time to understand that Sanji is extremely nuanced far outside his single trait of being horny.

I will say that Sanji can be creepy but I don't get the vibe from him about being an active creep specifically towards teenage girls. Especially since he seems to prefer more mature women like Robin, Kiku, Viola or frightening women like Nami.

As for me taking things personally and getting physically ill. That's just me being stupid and having severe rejection sensitivity when it comes to Sanji. I wish it'd go away.

I think it all boils down to Oda having sus choices in character ages... It would have changed literally nothing if he had just made Pudding 18.

[tmwcs]

okaaayy soooo I just finished reading it….

dude heelel making us sit in front of him and not beside him is just such a heelel thing to do 😆 but I didnt expect us to fully sit nude like wooooohhh okay then but anyways sunoo’s short appearance bcs of the piercings? that part was preeeetttyyyy nice and plus the elders coming by to see her and all of them being enamored by her ugh yes this series..im ngl its like reading the bible all over again minus everything 😂😂 we’re like jesus fr lmao like bitch we have the blood of the devil and god themselves SHITT BRUH

anyways forras coming to hell and heelel making him kiss our feet PLSSS, if i had known any better I would say he liked it istg this man probably has a fucking foot fetish

ANDDD heelel getting something to not keep you from getting bored HEELELLL MY HEARTTT but also him chaining us??? fine thennn

its really nice to see our life there and I have to say that I pretty fucking love it OKAYY

Lol! Yeah it’s a bit of a conflicting roller coaster ride bc he’s super possessive but also knows you’re adjusting and want to be back home, so the guy is like “nope! Staying with me” but also like “I’ll take care of you, whatever you want baby” BUT also like “be obedient and be a good girl”.

I wanted to show just how obsessed he is with you, the fact that he has you on like display in front of him…in the nude??? The man just wants to see all parts of you. You’re literally a goddess to him and he is sooooooo love struck by you. It’s insane.

I loved the part where he sat with you and showed you the stars and the galaxies and gave you like a history lesson on the evolution of mankind. When I pictured it, it was so heartwarming for me. Honestly, if I was the reader……wouldn’t have any complaints. Ngl…..would not have a single complaint. I get to lay in bed naked forever while eating whatever the fuvk I want and my husband will make anything happen? For me? Coooooooool bro. I’m down if you are lol

[umbral-stigmata-unbound]

9, 10, 37 and 35 for Vincent.

50 Random Character Asks | Open

9. Scene that first made me love (or hate) the character Ooooh, man. See, this is conflicting because 50% of my interest in him AT FIRST was because of his VA in Advent Children--Steve Blum had voiced an anime character that I was immensely obsessed with before ever getting into FF7 so that had be invested. Of course, the other 50% would be just his character, the intense, dramatic, mysterious vibes. I was invested right away. So, to be lame and take too long to answer lol, his first scene in FF7-AC. Swooping in like a spooky badass, saving his friend, and just everything.

10. Best moment on screen (or in the book) See, this is an unfair question... There are so many moments, from OG (more specifically lines), from AC, from Rebirth now, from Dirge, even his appearances in the novels, that were either so badass or important for the character or just had me enamored! It's hard to choose one moment...so I will choose three. #3 from the novels, was him offering and promising to meet up with Nanaki once a year for the rest of Nanaki's life, so that Nanaki at least was comforted to know he'd never be alone even as their other friends pass on. So emotional, such a very special moment of support for me, and bittersweet to know that Nanaki will always have one friend until the end of his days, but then, there will be a day when Vincent is the one alone. #2 in Rebirth when Vincent arrived at the sort of Whisper portal/gateway, and aids the others in holding the way open and her urges Cloud to go help Aerith. Something about him making that move to step in, fully engage--yes, he'd been helping since he'd join them, but he has had a level of detatchment, mostly observing and silent except for when his aid has been required. But that moment, to me personally, felt like him choosing to no longer simply follow along for convenience of his own mission but it was him stepping into these connections he was forging, engaging his sympathy and care and concern, and supporting them finally and fully as a friend. #1 is purely inspired by just the visuals, and my own shippy feels but, in AC, when everyone is happy send Cloud to defeat Bahamut SIN, and he is second to last (which to me I almost feel like the positions could symbolize the depth of impact and/or connections with Tifa being the greatest connection, Aerith the greatest impact, but Vincent is right there beneath the two of them). IDK, I'm just lame, because with the line and how majestically he just through himself, to give his hand and his support, literally looking like he is taking flight to reach Cloud and just the soft but supportive, "Fly!" I...I am a mess.

35. Their idea of a perfect day I don't really see him having a concrete concept of a perfect day. He doesn't really look for one, to be honest. Most tolerable, or perhaps productive in feeling, sure. I suppose it would be more about feeling satisfied/fulfilled by what he got out of a day? And stemming from that, I think working to tend to anything WRO might need of him, or aiding a friend in need, taking some time for as little overwhelming a social visit with friends as possible, and perhaps exploring further tests of freedom for his headmates and working to understand them would be his most satisfying day.

37. What they really think about themselves Mmm, rough question lol. And it sort of depends on the timeline. For my Vincent especially, at the core of him, through a lot of stages of his life, though not forever, he feels a sense of disappointment in himself that he was never courageous or passionate enough to put all of himself into something worthwhile. What was worthwhile changed with age and influence--sometimes it was fulfilling the expectation of family, the expectations of superiors and peers, and rarely was it ever finding his own wants and desires and fulfilling them. Too often did he fear disappointing others by putting his efforts and his desires into the wrong place, he most often held himself back and place efforts into what he could surmise would bring him the most balanced amount of approval and benefits. A few times when he would act on personal desires, he only perceived consequences, and it simply taught him that his desires and instincts were wrong and needed changing still. He has long perceived himself as a man lacking conviction, a man capable of amazing things seemingly doomed to fail to do what was most necessary when it is most needed and he would continue to slowly try to over come that habit (eventually, recognizing it was his perception that was wrong, not him). After his death and the experiments that brought him back, he certainly felt like he was cursed in every way possible--cursed upon himself, stuck in a hellish cycle of monsters and harm, and a curse to others. Something to tolerate, something he had to force to be honed into being safe and useful and beyond that, he should keep his distance. Over time, he would come to accept he is a monster, but not in the way he once perceived and wore with shame. He is a man out of time, a man alone in many ways, a man with baggage to carry, but he man working to finally collect himself into who he should be, solely by his own desires and merit and comfort, no longer dependent on the views and expectations of others. Once all he felt was a failure, then a monster. Now, he can see, he's just a man. In all the ways that matter, even with all the abnormalities, he is just Vincent Valentine.

[demobatman]

modern au mike wheeler and the homo autoerotic fixation he would have on jon snow