#someone put me in a mental asylum | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

samandcolbyownme · 1 year ago

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Summary: anon request - "Hi can u do one like should've stayed home but with Sam please and can u make it so they end up fighting about leaving and not wanting to leave and so the car ride home is silent leaving Colby feeling awkward until they get home then they make up after a little bit more arguing please please pleas thank u."

Warning: This one shot will get dark at parts and contain the reader being targeted by the spirits and some actions include; being touched, pushed, choked, scratched, spoken to, and other things some readers might find a bit creepy. There will also be mentions of murder and such at the place of exploration and other bad things some readers may be triggered by and there will be a short SMUT scene at the end.

I also kinda changed around the ending a little bit, hope you don't mind!

Word count: 8.1K

"What's up guys. It's Sam and Colby."

You stand off to the side, watching as they do their intro, "Today." Sam presses his hands together and leans in, "We are at the Agatha Asylum, or better known as the worst place to be sent if you were already having a bad day."

"It's said that people who had, or thought to have had any kind of mental illness were sent here for-" Colby puts air quotes, "-help.. and they were punished by being chained to walls, stuck in cages, beaten, and most even faced death."

"We are here today to see if we can get some answers as to why the person in charge, John Agatha, would do something like this." Sam glances over at you, "We also have with us a very special guest, y/n."

You walk over, standing in between Sam and Colby and hold your hand up, "I don't know why I'm here. I hate asylums."

"You volunteered to handcuff yourself to the wall, remember?" Colby jokes and looks at you. You raise your eyebrows, "The fuck I did."

"Anyway." Sam tries not to laugh, "We are currently waiting on the owner of this asylum to get here so we can get a tour and get a feel for what we will be dealing with.." Sam looks over at the road, "I think that's them now."

A car pulls up and parks, stepping out is a man and women.

"Are you Mark and Cindy?" Colby asks walking over and the man nods, "Yes, are you Sam and Colby?" Sam holds his hand up, "I'm Sam, this is my girlfriend y/n and that's Colby."

You all say hello and they jump right into it, "So.." Cindy starts out, "This is Agatha Asylum." She motions towards the building behind the fence, "This is to keep anyone out, since we're trying to get it ready to present to the public, we have it blocked off so people don't get in without us knowing. Or we try to at least."

"Have people gotten in?" Colby asks and Mark nod, "Oh yeah. We eventually set up security cameras around the perimeter. The day we noticed a broken window and spray paint lids, actually."

"What kind of things happened here exactly?" Sam asks handing the camera to Colby.

Cindy blows air, "Oh gosh, anything from restraining the patients inhumanly to keeping them locked in cages that were maybe, if they were lucky, a little bigger than themselves."

You raise your eyebrows, "What the hell?"

Mark nods, "most of the women who came in were attacked by the staff if you know what I mean so I'm sure the women are angry. I mean, hell I would be too if I was stuck here."

"Have you guys had any thing happen to you?" Colby asks, "Like personally or maybe to someone you know that has come here."

Mark nods, "Yeah, I've had my tools messed with, moved. Cindy has been pushed down the steps, and one of my guys who are working with me on getting this ready, was pushed from his ladder."

"Pushed off a lad- oh shit." Sam shakes his head, "Is there anything we need to know before going in there? Like maybe who to try and get in contact with or what not to ask?"

"John Agatha. He's the one who ran this place. Many people have tried to contact him but they never got any real answers as to why." Cindy says, "Just make your intentions known, I know some of the spirits in there can get pretty mean, so just keep reminding them that you mean no harm."

"Has anyone stayed a full night here?" You ask and they laugh, "No."

"No?" Colby asks raising his eyebrows, "Looks like we have a challenge on our hands, guys." He looks over at you and Sam and Sam shakes his head, "I'm already shitting my pants, dude."

"You all will by the time it gets dark. It's a pretty active place during the day, don't get me wrong, but not only me, but from other groups that came through as well, said it's gets worse at night." Mark sighs, "So. Who's ready for the tour?"

"You guys have fun, I'm going home." Colby pretends to walk away before turning back around, "No, let's go before I really do change my mind."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

"So this hallway leads you to where most of the women were held.." Cindy points to the right and then to the left, "Men were held that way."

"Is there any specific areas as to where the most activity happens?" Sam asks laying his hand on your back as he steps around you, "Where were the cages kept exactly?"

"This whole place, honestly. You're bound to get activity anywhere in here and there were at least two cages per room."

"Per room?" You raise your eyebrows, "How many were kept in a room at one time?"

"Two but some held up to four, depending on many were here and came in and what not." Mark says looking around. He stares down the hallway and Sam turns the camera, "Did you see something?"

"A shadow moved across then end of that hallway there." He points, "No taller than you." He motions to Colby and Colby shrugs, "Sorry. I'm just that fast."

He starts pretending to Sonic run in place. You laugh and shake your head, "You can't be serious at all can you?" He shakes his head, "Not when I'm scared shitless, no."

Mark and Cindy laugh and start walking down the hall way. They explain each room briefly, basically what it was used for until you finally reach an old wooden door that's laying on the floor.

"This is where they kept, what they called, the worst of the worst." Mark lifts the door, revealing a steep staircase, "Watch your step as you come down."

"This is a really odd basement entrance." Sam says handing the camera to Colby, "What the hell."

Mark and Cindy go down first, followed by Sam then you. He helps you down, coaching you through the steps until you reach the bottom.

"What you're not going to help me?" Colby asks looking over his shoulder at Sam. All of you start baby talking to Colby coaching him down the steps and he stands there with his lips pressed together, "Should have never said anything."

Sam takes the camera, making sure Colby is good before turning around, "What is up with freaking jail cells in the basements of these places?"

"Literally." You mumble as you wrap your arms around yourself, "It's so cold down here. Did they have any sort of heat at the time of this place being open?"

Mark shakes his head, "They had a fireplace over there but as you can see it got filled from the outside in so who knows when that happened."

There's a loud thud from upstairs and you jump, "the fuck?"

Colby points, "That sounded like the door lifted up and dropped back down." Sam nods, "Yeah yeah yeah."

"Very well could have been. Doors opening on their own is very common around here." Cindy says, "Especially the third floor, that's where lots of the killings happened."

"Why the third floor?" Colby asks, "Why not down here?"

"The patients ended up dying all over the place, but if they were ordered to be put out by John, they would drag them up the stairs, kill them then dump their bodies out of the back window, into what was said to be a big wagon and then taken about half a mile away and they would just burn them and then just cover the hole with dirt."

"That answers my question about what they do with the bodies." Sam cringes, "I can't even imagine that."

"The hauntings and activity started a year or two after the patients first started to die. So if you can, try to contact.. oh shit. Was was his name?" Cindy looks at Mark and he shakes his head, "Oh, you mean Warren Summers?"

She nods, "Yes! He was reported to be the first to die, they ruled his death an accident but we all know it wasn't."

"Well definitely try to contact him, find out some answers." Colby nods and mark motions, "Alright, I need to get out of here, this spot makes me feel sick."

"Whoa really?" Sam looks at Colby, "Do you feel okay?" Colby nods and Sam looks at you, "Do you feel alright?"

You nod your head, "I mean, I feel like there's pressure on my chest, but it's not like, oh my god I can't breathe, kinda pressure."

"Let's get out of here and we'll just start in the main lobby." Sam says as he walks you over to the stairs. You go up first, followed by Sam and he turns around, "Come on, Colby." His voice is high pitched, "You can do it!"

Colby glares up at him from mid stairs and shakes his head as he laughs, "Thanks buddy. I needed that."

Mark and Cindy make their way up and she points to you, "Are you sure they're the ones not together?"

You sigh and shrug, "Sometimes I feel like I'm in a competition." You laugh and look over at Colby who does the, I'm watching you, motion.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

"Alright, guys. We have the REM pod here, and we're going to start out easy tonight by starting in the lobby." Sam walks over to the desk, setting the pod down, "It was said that there was a receptionist here who just so happened to be John's wife, Mabel, so she had to known everything you'd think."

"Didn't mark say that she disappeared randomly one day and no one really looked for her?" You ask looking at Sam, and he nods, "Yeah yeah yeah, maybe she didn't know what was going on and when she started to find out he silenced her?"

"John Agatha was a very wealthy man at the time of his death, so it very well could be or he offed her because she knew he had money?" Colby shrugs, "I mean, there's really only one way to find out."

Colby leans forward, switching on the pod and testing it a few times before stepping back, "Ladies first." He smirks towards you and you roll your eyes playfully, "Okay. Hello, my name is y/n. I mean no harm, I'm just here to ask you a few questions if that's okay."

The pod lights up and you straight up slightly, "If it's okay that I ask, can you touch that little light for me again?"

It lights up and you look between Sam and Colby, "Okay." You look back, "Thank you. Am I speaking to the wife of John Agatha? Mabel. If so touch that light for me again."

A few seconds go by before the light goes off, "Thank you, Mabel."

Sam hands the camera to Colby, "Hello, Mabel, I'm Sam. I come with peace and the possibility of finding out what happened here. I'd like to ask you something too if that's okay."

The pod lights up and Sam takes a deep breath, "Did your husband.. end your life?"

Right after the pod lights up, it stops and there's a loud crash from slightly far away.

You all jump, yelling out cuss words. You lean around Sam the look down the hallway, "What the hell was that?"

"It sounded like something big fell, like you know those big metal carts the food trays are served on? It sounded like one of those and everything in it just falling out." Colby moves forward, "Should we go check it out?"

The rem pod lights up three times in a row and you all look back at it before looking at each other.

"My name is Colby, I mean no harm to you or anyone else here. Was that a warning? Should we not go look?" Colby asks and it lights up one time quickly, "Make that go off for me if that was a yes."

Instantly turns on.

"Fuck, okay." Colby turns to Sam, "What do we do?"

Sam shakes his head, "If we're being told not to go there, we shouldn't."

"That hasn't stopped us before." Colby chuckles slightly, "Y/n."

You're zoned out on the dark hallway where the sound came from, you know that Colby has the camera on you, but you can't acknowledge it.

You feel Sam's hand on you, pulling you back as your body is trying to go forward, "Hey, hey. Y/n. Look at me." Sam steps in front of you, breaking your stare and you shake your head slightly.

He looks up at Colby and back to you, "What just happened? Talk to me." Sam lays his hands on your cheeks and keeps your head straight, "Hey."

"I felt something calling me towards where the sound came from." You lay your hand on Sam's bicep, "It was weird."

"What the fuck." Sam whispers as he looks back up at Colby and he shrugs, "Okay, we'll just go to the left wing, give whatever that is, time to do whatever it needs to do."

Sam pulls you with him, as you still felt drawn.

"So something just took over y/n pretty much." Colby explains, "Y/n, what happened?" He points the camera on you and you laugh slightly, "Um, I don't really know.. like you know how when you're so tired you just zone out?"

They nod and you sigh, "It was like that, but I swear there was a figure standing there, watching us and I was just having some sort of stare down with him."

"You started walking towards it, then. Like what happened with that?" Colby follows up, "Like did it say anything?"

You shake your head, "I knew you had the camera on me, and I knew Sam was pulling me back, but no. Nothing was said, it just stood there watching us and I just felt like I needed to go there."

"John Agatha?" Sam whispers, "Could it- do you think it was him?" You shrug, "Maybe? I don't know, it was the same figure Mark saw I think.. he was really no taller than Colby."

"It had to be, maybe he's trying to tell us to get out or maybe.. with a sliver of luck, he wants to explain himself." Colby shakes his head, "I don't know, let's just avoid that area until we cover this side."

Colby grabs the pod, switching it off as he turns back towards you and Sam, "Are you okay like do you feel alright?"

You nod, even though you feel like you could puke, "Yeah, yeah I'm good."

Sam rubs your arm, "You sure?"

You nod again, "Yes, Sam. I'm sure."

He could tell something was off, but he trusted you. He knew you'd stop if you really couldn't handle it.

"Where to next?" You ask as you take his hand into yours. Sam squeezes your hand and points, "I figured we could go into the day room, that's where Paul Yellow allegedly killed his roommate."

"These two men specifically had beef with each other.." Colby starts out as he hands the camera to Sam who lets go of your hand to take it, "..it was said that they would always be stealing from each other and would always be trying to get one another in trouble, but no one would admit to it, so the staff basically let them handle it themselves and that's when Paul came into the day room with a hammer that he somehow found, and bludgeoned Frank to death."

"Yeah in front of everyone but the staff were basically the only, " sam turns the camera around to him, putting at quotes, "Sane ones here, so they covered it up basically by saying that Frank fell and that was that."

"Wasn't Paul taken by the staff and tortured?" You ask as you look over at Sam. He nods, "Pretty much, yes."

As Sam and Colby explain what you guys were going to do next, you walked over to the window, looking out into the old courtyard.

"Come over here."

You turn around, walking over to Sam, "What?" He looks at you confused, "What?" You look between him and Colby, "Didn't you just tell me to come over here?"

Sam looks up at Colby and back down to you, "No I was getting the EMF ready."

You motion towards the window, "I swear to god, you said, come over here, when I was standing at the window."

Colby's eyes go wide, "He didn't say that." He shakes his head, "Oh fuck."

"So if you didn't sa-"

The sound of, what you think, is a metal trash can sliding across the floor makes you stop talking. It's quick, but you all hear it.

"Something just got drug or pushed across the floor." Sam whispers, "Fuck, fuck, okay. Let's get this thing going.." he turns on the EMF and you all step back.

"I'm y/n. I come in peace, I just want to ask a few questions. Paul Yellow, did you tell me to come over here?" You bite down on your cheek, waiting for the device to give you an answer.

"Were you over by the window with me?" You ask and it lights up green, "was it Paul?"

It lights up red.

"Are we talking to Frank?" Colby asks and it lights up green, "Did Paul kill you?"

Lights up red.

"Was it someone else?" Sam asks trying to keep the camera still and he looks over at you when it lights up green.

"Who else co-" you stop, "Was it one of the staff, Frank?"

Instant green.

"One of the staff did it then blamed Paul?" Colby looks shocked and he jumps slightly as it lights up green, "Holy shit, dude."

"I wonder if they've had anyone figure this out." Sam asks and he turns around, "Did you hear that?" You lean around to look, listening for the sound. Sam looks back, "It sounded like someone was walking and dragging their hand along the wall."

The sound Sam explained happened again and you look up at him, "That?" Sam nods, "Exactly that."

"Something is following us." Colby says quietly, "It has to be."

The EMF lights up green and you all look at each other, "Is it John Agatha?" You glance back at the EMF, "All you need to do is-"

It lights up green and you sigh, "Thank you." A thump against the wall makes you jump, "I don't think he likes being told what to do." You joke which makes Colby laugh, Sam just shakes his head.

"You good, bro?" Colby pushes his arm and looks at him. Sam smiles slightly, "Yeah, no I'm good."

You find yourself being pulled into that stare again, this time it's in the corner of the day room, but nothing is there.

"Colby. Colby." Sam says as he grabs you by the waist. You try to pull away from him, but he wraps his arm around you, "Y/n. Snap out of it, come on."

You lean back into him, "There's something over there."

"You aren't going over there alone." He fights back as he switches his flash light on, revealing just the ripped wallpaper, "See. Nothing."

"There was." You turn around, "he was watching us."

"Who? John?" Colby asks and the EMF lights up green, "Maybe we should try the-" the loud crashing sound makes him stop talking instantly.

"You don't think people got in here do you?" Sam tightens his grip on your waist, "We tweeted about coming here.. so like.."

"They have cameras all around the perimeter they said, and I'm sure they would have told us if they saw something." Sam says as he pulls his phone out, "Let me call Mark, see if he can tell me if there was anything outside."

As Sam calls mark, you close your eyes, resting your head back on his shoulder. Colby walks up, squeezing your arm, "You still with us?"

You open your eyes, nodding, "Yeah I just got really dizzy."

Sam looks down at you and puts the phone on speaker, "There was nothing outside?"

"Not since you went back inside." Mark says on the other end of the phone, "If you do decide to leave just make sure you lock the gate and we can get the key tomorrow."

"Alright, yeah. We'll let you know." Sam says and they end the call, "So it's just us in here." He looks down at you, "Are you okay?"

You nod and stand up, "Yeah, I'm good."

"You're not dizzy anymore?" He brushes hair from your face and you shake your head, "No I'm good."

"I'm thinking we move from here and we go to the third floor." Colby walks over and Sam stops you from following him, "We can leave if this is too much."

"Sam. I'm fine. I promise."

"I don't like the way you just zone out and try to walk away. That's not like you, that isn't you." His eyes scan over your face and you weren't sure if it was the place effecting you, but you just wanted to keep going, "Something is drawing us to that hallway."

"What do you mean?" Sam shakes his head, "Y/n, I don't want you out of my sight, this place is too big and too dark for you to just go off away from us."

"Then put me on a leash or something, because I'm not done here."

You've never spoken to Sam like that. Ever. So when you said it, you were both surprised, "I'm.. sorry, I don't know where that came from."

"My point exactly." Sam chews on his lip, trying to tell himself over and over again that this place is a lot more powerful than they thought.

"What's going on? You guys okay?"

"Yes." You say the same time Sam says, "No."

Colby looks between the two of you then back to Sam. Sam sighs, "This place obviously has a hold over you, y/n. So everything is not okay."

"What-" Colby starts but you cut him off, looking directly at Sam, "Sam. This is what we do. you can't expect me to just back out every time something hap-"

Sam cuts you off, "Yours being pulled by what we can only assume is a dark entity. How do you expect me to act? Just let you walk off into the sunset with it? No. No thanks."

"Guys, come on.. just take a deep breath. There's absolutely no need to argue." Colby tries to settle the situation but it only seemed to fire up the ghosts because it sounds like a table is lifted then dropped back down.

Sam instantly grabs you, pulling you to him, "You're staying close."

You don't put up any more of a fight, knowing that Sam would drag you out himself if he had to, "Fine."

You knew he was right. As soon as you seen the figure in the hallway, something switched and it was like you needed to follow it.

And you didn't know why.

"Why don't we just go there?" Colby says as you guys leave the day room, "Where the sound happened. If it gets bad we can just leave, we always have that option."

You knew Colby wanted to stay, too, but he was also worried about Sam because he was worried about you, "What do you want to do, Sam?"

Sam thinks for a moment before sighing, "If you zone out one more time and try to walk away from us, we're leaving."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

The investigation went on to be better than you guys thought. Nothing happened to you. Nothing happened to them, you thought that maybe your small argument with Sam helped, but you'd soon come to find out that was not true at all.

"So as you guys could see, there hasn't really been much activity going on, probably for the last hour or two." Colby says and motions towards the spirit box, "We brought this to the third floor, hoping to see if we can figure out what exactly happened to some of the patients."

Sam sets the camera down on the one table, angling it towards you guys and the box, "Okay, we'll sit this right here and.." Sam stands up and turns around, "Did you touch me?"

You shake your head, "We've been over here."

"My whole body like shifted and it felt like someone's hand on my side." He lays his hand right where he felt it, "like right here exactly." Colby walks over and Sam demonstrates on him what he felt.

"fucking hell that's creepy." Colby shakes his head, "You know when we were walking up the stairs, it felt like someone else was behind us."

"I thought I heard someone whistle or whisper, I don't know.. it was like a quiet high pitched sound, but I couldn't make out if it was a word or not." You look around, "This floor honestly makes me nervous, and those creepy steps didn't help."

"Those stairs the whole way up I just kept thinking about how people were actually getting dragged up and sown." Sam shakes his head, "let's just.. get this thing going."

Sam was off, and you picked up on it quickly. It was almost like what took over you, took over Sam.

"Sam?" You step towards him, "Sam... Colby.. colby."

He stares at the floor and Colby walks up to him, "Sam, dude. Hey."

You shake him slightly and he looks back up, "Let's get this thing going."

You look at Colby and back to Sam, "You already said that." He looks at you confused, "Huh?" He laughs nervously, "No I didn't."

Colby nods, "You did, man. You zoned out after, looking at the floor."

Sam looks at you, "Did it come after me now?"

You shrug, "I was thinking that, because isn't that what I did?" You look at Colby and he nods, "yes but the only thing is he didn't try to walk off."

Sam switches the box on, "What do you want with us?"

"... I want ... to know.."

"You want to know what?" Colby asks loudly, "did you take over y/n and Sam?"

"... Miss.. it ..."

"You miss what?" You ask, "Do you miss being alive?"

" ... alive ..."

"You are not welcome to touch us. You cannot control us." Sam says, "What do you want us to see?"

"... the... truth .. in here .."

"Were you murdered here?" Colby asks and it sounds like something bouncing down the steps, "Was that you making that noise?"

"... must get ... out..."

"Are you telling us to get out? Or do you want to get out?" Sam presses his fingers to his lips, "Can you tell us who we're talking to?"

"... he's in.. here .."

"Who? Who is in here?" You ask staring at the box, "Can you tell us who is here with us?"

" ... John .. murder .."

"John and murder?" Colby looks at you guys, "Did John murder you? Were you murdered by John Agatha?"

"... liar .. he lies ..."

"Did John lie about your death?" You ask and step closer to Sam, "What did he do to you?"

"... tried to run.."

"Did you try and escape? Did he punish you for that?" Colby asks and jumps next to you when the door to the one room slams shut, "Who is here with us? Reveal your name to us."

"... John .. is mad..."

"Is he mad that we're here trying to find out what he did?" You ask and Sam looks at you, "I think we should stop."

You felt the need to keep going, "Can he come in here with us?"

"Y/n." Colby looks at you then to Sam, jumping as heavy footsteps come down the hallway, "Sam's right." Colby reaches to switch off the spirit box, but you stop him, "Just wait."

Sam nods at him, chewing on his lip as the footsteps start again.

"John Agatha. If you're here, tell us why you killed those people." You glance towards the door, only to snap your head back to the box,

"... they needed to die ..."

"No they didn't. They were sick." You argue and Sam pulls you back, "That's enough." You push away from him, "Sam. We're getting answers."

"No, you're arguing with something that we're unsure of. You don't know the power of this thing. " Sam runs a hand through his hair, "I think we're done. I don't like this-"

"Colby do you want to leave?" You look at Colby and he holds his hands up, "I think I'm with Sam on this one."

You roll your eyes, "Of course you do."

"Y/n. What the hell has gotten into you?" Sam looks at you shocked, "You have never acted this way during one of these and that's why we're done." He grabs your wrist, holding onto you, "We are done here."

"... no .."

Sam shakes his head and turns off the box, "I'm not doing this. We can talk about this at home."

You turn around, finding Colby no where in the room, "Colby?" You call out, "Sam. Colby is gone." Sam's heart starts to race, "Fuck, yo Colby?"

No answer.

"Fuck. Fuck. Come on." He hands you the camera, and turns on his flashlight, yelling for Colby as you make your way to the stairs.

"Careful, careful." Sam makes sure you make it down okay before stopping at the bottom, "You don't think he went to the basement did you?"

"Or where the sound came from? That's where I was feeling drawn to." You look around, sighing, "Fuck. Fuck. Colby?!"

You hear a loud thump come from where the first crash happened, "We have to." You look at Sam and he nods, "Yeah, yeah. I know." He interlocks his fingers with yours and pulls you with him.

You both yell out for Colby, looking for any kind of sign, "Colby? Come on this isn't funny." Your voice kinda breaks as your fear builds up faster and faster.

"Colby. Come on man, we're leaving." Sam yells out and you stop when you see a metal cart laying on its side, old trays spilling out from the door that is open.

"He was right, that's what that sound was earlier when we started." Sam shines the flashlight on it and looks up, "Colby?"

"Wait." You stop Sam, "Isn't John's office over here?"

His eyes go wide, "Fuck, yeah it is." He turns towards the walkway, "Colby!?"

You perk up, "Wait. I think.." you whisper, "Yell out to him again."

"Colby?!"

"This way." You pull Sam down the hall, half preparing yourself for when Colby jumps out and scares you both, or at least you're hoping that's what he's doing.

"Colby? Please." You beg, hoping you can find him.

"If we just left when I said.."

You stop, cutting Sam off, "No. we aren't playing the blame game because right now our friend is lost and we have no idea where he is."

"Where who is?" Colby walks up, and you Sam let out a scream.

"Where the fuck did you go?" Sam yells, "You just up and left us dude. Why?"

"You guys were arguing and I thought I heard someone in the hallway, so I came out to see and then I was halfway down the steps. I thought I saw people, like teenagers run to the left and my first instinct was to just go." Colby explains, "I don't know dude. Really, I was running and then I was like wait, I'll get lost so I turned around and now we're here."

"You could have been hurt, Colby." You push his shoulder and he just shrugs.

"Sorry man." Sam lays a hand on his shoulder, "last I knew you were right behind us."

He nods, "it's fucking crazy. This place is a maze, and I don't mean physically either."

"Let's just.. go get the stuff and head out to the car." Sam sighs, pointing the camera to Colby, "We found him. He says there were people here but we aren't sure about anything, and I mean that about this whole entire place."

"I don't even know how to describe it other than what y/n said. Like that tired feeling and then I wasn't where I remember I was." Colby explains and you nod, "Yeah like you can tell what you're doing but you aren't focused on what you're doing."

"Alright well I think that's it for-" Sam stops talking and looks behind him, "There was just.. three knocks." He whips around looking at you guys when it happens again, "that.. that.."

"What the hell is that?" Colby whispers and you're pushed towards the way the office is, "Do not touch me. Do not touch any of us." You hold your hand up, "Fuck."

"Y/n. We need to go." Colby steps towards you and you shake your head, "we can't leave."

"We aren't arguing again, y/n." Sam walks towards you and when he goes to grab your hand, he's pushed back.

Colby snaps his head towards the hall, "Someone just said don't touch her." He looks at Sam, "I swear to god dude. A clear as day whisper like right behind me."

You feel something grab your hair and lift it off of your shoulder. You jump and brush a hand over, "Something just played with my hair."

"We're leaving."

As you go to collect the equipment, that's when things take a turn for the weird.

"So, maybe Colby was right. We heard things..." Sam says as he tries to control his breathing, "We aren't sure what it was exactly, right now we're just ducked down behind this desk thing."

"That's what I heard earlier, but you'd think if it was actual people they'd make a lot more noise than just footsteps, right?" Colby whispers leaning in towards you and Sam. Sam's grips on your hand tightens as the foot steps grow closer.

They stop abruptly and Colby stands up, "There's no one here." Sam pulls your arm, "Let's just make a run for it."

You guys book into the door, breathing heavy as Colby closes it with a slam. Sam pulls you away from the building, "you okay?"

You nod, "Yeah, yeah are you?" He nods and pulls you into him, hugging you tightly.

"That was fucking crazy." Colby says walking around you guys, "I've never experienced anything like that. Like we were affected in a way we can't really explain in depth."

"This doesn't feel finished, though." You pull away from Sam and he stares at you, "What?"

You look between him and Colby, "Exactly what I said."

And you meant that. You wanted to come back here, get more answers about this asylum. You knew more happened here than what people have said.

"You're going to really stand here, and tell me that you want to go back in there." Sam scoffs, "Even after what you had happen? What I had happen? Christ, y/n, Colby went missing for god knows how long."

He puts his hands on his head and spins around slowly, trying to comprehend as to why you'd want to.

"Because there's more in there, more stuff that people don't know and I want to be the one to find out exactly what it is." You point to the building and drop your hand, "If you don't want to then I'll come back myself."

"The fuck you will." Sam shakes his head, "Y/n. You could have been the one lost. You could have been the one lost in there, alone.. and I don't-" his voice cracks and he clears his throat, "You're not coming back here and I mean that."

"Why don't we -"

"Stay out of this, Colby." You and Sam say looking over at him.

He holds his hands up and walks over to the car while you and Sam still argue.

"You didn't know what you were doing, y/n. Okay? You could have easily got lost." Sam looks at you and you shrug, "But I didn't."

He stares at you a few moments before shaking his head, "The only reason you want to come back here is because whatever is on the other side of that door is making you want to come back."

You clench your jaw, knowing that he's right but since you're fighting, you don't want to let him win easy.

"That place changed you." Sam says lowly, "We have never, ever fought like this, we've never fought at all. Doesn't that mean anything?"

"Never said it didn't, Sam." You mumble as you walk towards the car, getting into the back. You glance over, seeing Sam bend down slightly before kicking the rocks on the ground and walking over to get in the passenger seat of the car.

"Home?" Colby asks starting the car.

You and Sam both mumble a low, "Mhm." Colby takes a deep breath and starts to drive out of the gate, "I have to lock up. Don't kill each other." He gets out, jogging up to shut the gate.

Sam glances back at you and you look at him. He sighs, "I'm still mad, but I love you."

You try not to smile, "I love you."

Colby gets back into the car, "Did you guys makeup yet?" You both refuse to answer and he laughs sarcastically to himself, "Oh this is going to be such a wonderful quiet ride home."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

"We have like half an hour left, do you want to stop somewhere and get something to eat?" Colby looks at Sam and he nods, "Yeah, that works." He looks back at you, "Are you hungry?"

"Yeah." You say lowly with a slight nod.

"Are we finally speaking to each other?" Colby acts surprised, "Wow. It's about time."

You roll your eyes and Sam scoffs, "I'm mad, that doesn't mean I don't care about her still."

You smile slightly, looking away from him so he doesn't see it. You get out of the car and go to walk in but Colby stops you, "We weren't us back there. Don't hold it over his head."

"Tell that to him." You mumble and he nods, "I plan to, trust me. I just got to you first." You laugh as you walk in to the store and Colby walks up to Sam, telling him the same thing he told you.

As you're standing there, looking at the snacks, you feel hands slides around your waist and pull you back, "You know.."

"What do I know?" You ask as your nails gently graze over his hands, "Even though you pissed me off.." his voice goes quiet, "The way you argued with the ghost was such a turn on."

You smirk and turn around to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck, "Is that your way of saying you're sorry?" He bites his bottom lip as he looks at you, "I'll say it when we get home."

He winks at you and leans in to kiss you. You slide your fingers in his hair, humming against his lips slightly.

Colby walks up, "Now that's what I like to see."

You and Sam pull away and look at him. He has a big cheesy smirk on his face and you can't help but laugh, "What would we do without him?"

Colby buts in, "Oh i don't know, probably give each other the silent treatment until days from now."

Sam chuckles and sighs, "That wasn't any of us back there." You look up at him, "Yeah.. that was bad."

Colby nods, "I've never seen you act the way you did, y/n. Honestly it was kinda badass. Arguing with a potential demon."

Sam nods, looking down at you. You look up at him, "I learned from the best."

You grab your snacks and head out to the car, getting into the back as they get up front, "So now that this is no longer a quiet ride home, and I am no longer feeling awkward, can we please talk about what happened?"

"Mhm. Yeah sure." Sam mumbles as he stares down at his phone. Colby looks over at him before he starts driving, "What are you doing?"

You phone vibrates and you see a message from Sam, "Colby don't look at his phone. I beg you."

"Why can be so-" he reads over the message that was sent from Sam's phone, you've had me low key turned on this entire night, when we get home I'm going to show you just how sorry I am.

"Well, okay." Colby sits forward, "That awkward part is back."

You laugh, replying to Sam, just how are you going to do that?

Colby clears his throat, "Can we.." he laughs, "Can you stop sexting each other for one second so we can do the outro please?"

You sigh, resting your phone down on the seat next to you, "anything for princess Colby." He lays his hand under his chin, "As it should be."

You and Sam both laugh and he gets the camera rolling, "We are currently on our way home. Tonight was.." Sam sighs and looks at Colby, "I don't even know how to explain it."

"A big mess." You laugh and Colby sighs, "It was definitely something like that. I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that we were .. taken over basically."

"Yeah, yeah no. That part was absolutely fucked up. I luckily didn't have it happen like y/n or Colby did, but it was still a surreal feeling to have people telling you that you zoned out with absolutely no recollection of it at all." Sam points his thumb back to you, "And then you got Mrs I like to argue with ghosts back here, but that's a story we'll post on our other channel, maybe, who knows, but we are done for tonight, like I said, it was a whirlwind of events and we are so excited for you guys to see what we experienced tonight at the Agatha Asylum."

"Drop a like if Mrs I like to argue with ghosts should be made into a sweatshirt." Colby gives a thumbs up and Sam yells, "Ayyyy yes. Y/n." He points the camera to you, "How would you like to have your own collection."

"That would be pretty sick." You smile and nod, "I actually like that a lot."

Sam points the camera to himself, "Well have to work on it. See you guys in the next one."

Sam cuts the camera off, "Mrs I like to argue with ghosts." He laughs and looks back at you, "I'm getting you a hoodie that says that."

You smile and nod, "I'll wear it everyday."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

"Have fun. I'll be down here editing away from all the noise." Colby says as he grabs his laptop off the counter.

Without any hesitation, Sam grabs your hand and up the stairs you go, laughing with him as you try to keep up.

You run into the room you share, falling on the bed with him on top of you, "You drive me insane, but always in the best way." His lips press to yours as his hand pulls your head close to him.

You drag his sweatshirt up his back, telling him you want it off. He leans up, slipping it off in one perfect motion and you pull him back down to kiss you.

He grinds himself against you, "I'm sorry for yelling at you." You moan slightly, shaking your head, "We weren't us." You cup his face, "This is us."

He smiles and kisses you again. You quickly grow into a heated make out, clawing the rest of each other clothes off and slipping under the blankets.

"If I ever yell at you like that again, just sacrifice me to the demons, babe." He chuckles slightly, brushing hair from your face before sliding his hand down to pull you closer.

"I'd be coming with you. We're inseparable." You nudge your nose against his and he nods, "Damn right we are."

He rolls on top of you, rubbing the head of his cock against your pussy, "You were so.." he lets out a low moan as he slips his cock into you, "..fucking hot back there.."

He pushes his hips to meet yours, "You always amaze me."

You run your hand through his hair, biting down on your lip as he starts to thrust, "Fuck.." you whimper and look up at him, "I'd do anything to protect you."

"I'd die for you." He stares at you for a few seconds, still thrusting deep and slow, "I mean that wholeheartedly. You mean the most to me and I'd do anything to keep you safe."

You smile and lay a hand on his cheek, "I love you."

He kisses your lips, whispering a low, "I love you."

He leans up a little bit, "Now roll over so I can punish you for yelling at me." He winks and gives you a cocky smirk before pulling out. You smirk as your stomach does an excited flip.

You roll over onto your stomach and Sam's body is immediately on yours, his cock back in to where it was before, "I wanted to shut you up in anyway I could."

You moan as he thrusts slow, "Why didn't you?"

"Would have had to cut a lot of the footage out." Sam says lowly in your ear, "Plus I don't really want Colby seeing how pretty you look while you're gagging on my dick."

Your eyes roll back as he pushes all the way in, "Because you my love, are fucking gorgeous."

You grip the sheets, moaning as his hand slides around to your throat, squeezing as he whispers, "Or how pretty you look while I'm in between those legs.."

"S-Sam." You squeeze his cock with your walls, "Fuck, I-I'm so close."

"Go ahead, baby." Sam groans lowly, "Fuck, I'm not going to last much longer either." He hooks his thumb over your bottom jaw and you immediately suck.

He moans lowly, pounding into you, "That's my girl."

You moan around his thumb, trying to move your hips but you can't go anywhere. Your moans are growing louder as you reach your point, squeezing him as you claw at the sheets.

"Come on, baby." He pleads, "Cum for me."

You whimper and moan his name over and over again, letting your head fall back as you cum, "Fuck fuck fuck."

Sam suddenly pulls out, his cum spilling on your back, "Fuck, babe." you let your head fall forward, resting on the bed as your breathing is heavy.

"You okay?" Sam asks getting up to get you a towel. You look back at him, "Oh yeah. I'm so much better."

He smiles and shakes his head, "You know, I wonder how much of us arguing was actually caught on camera."

"Probably all of it, Sam. And if I'm being honest, it'll probably turn me on again." You roll over once he wipes you off and smirk up at him.

"You too, huh?" He smiles as he bites his bottom lip as you nod, "Uh huh. Very much." He pulls you up so you're standing in front of him, "I really don't want to yell at you again, but if it's something that'll get you going then.." he leans in, kissing you, "then we might just have to work something out."

You suddenly hear Colby yelling, "Oh shit. No fucking way!"

You quickly throw on clothes and run down, "What? What? What!?" Sam asks going over, you hand still in his, "Bro what the fuck is that?"

"That my friend is what was controlling us tonight." Colby turns the laptop towards you and Sam and you gasp, "That's exactly what I saw."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

Likes and reblogs are appreciated!

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g3llyfish · 5 months ago

Text

"SIT RIGHT DOWN AND STAY A WHILE"

MK x GN!reader

Established relationship

Comfort and fluff<3, you both miss eachother :{, tired and overworked MK

You stare at the text with a sigh when your boyfriend, MK, apologizes for not being able to spend some time with you again because he was busy training with the monkey king.

Sometimes you would wish that he isn't the monkey king's prodigy, you're happy that you're with someone special like him but with all the training and working at pigsy's. He ends up overworking himself and risking his physical health and mental health and you're getting more and more worried for him.

You understand why, ofcourse you're not one of those possessive partners that controls every decision your partner makes but you really miss him, you can't even remember when you two had a proper date or even a sleepover.

You turn off your phone again and rose up from you bed, determined to think of a plan to spend some time with him, until you got an idea.

You grabbed your phone again and starts to dial Mei.

"Hey, I'm gonna do something for MK, do you think you have some time to help me real quick?"

✧˖*°࿐

MK, the Monkey Kid, the great sage somewhat equal to heaven, the one who saved the city from damnation from several demons is currently driving in his delivery vehicle to pigsy's noodles to finish off his chores after the training he went through.

He swears he could feel his bones breaking just from sitting down, his eye bags were deep and his skin became slightly pale from exhaustion.

Wukong noticed this ofcourse and told him off to get some rest, the monkey king isn't that cruel to his successor, if he has to be honest, the monkey cares about MK so much more than himself.

MK sighs as he remembers when he texted you that he was too busy to be with you, he missed seeing you, holding you, being with you, just you in general.

He stops at a red light and decides to pull up his phone to see if he has any notification... Nothing, just the wallpaper of your first date together, he looked so tense and nervous in the photo making him scoff a laugh.

The monkey man doesn't know why but you still make him nervous in some way, you're amazing as a friend and also as his partner, he still doesn't believe that you accepted him to be your boyfriend until this day.

The brunette was too busy reminiscing the time when he was with you to the fact that didn't even notice the light turned green until a loud horn from behind took his attention away.

"Hey kid! Get a move on!" "S-s-sorry!"

✧˖*°࿐

MK walks inside the noodle shop with the neon light above the door off,—indicating that they're closing up, MK only sees Pigsy cleaning by himself with a mop at hand, roughly cleaning a stain on the floor.

"MK, you're finally back!" The pig notices MK and stops mopping.

"Hey, pigsy!" MK greeted his dad "here, I'll help you with cleaning the shop."

He was about to grab the mop from Pigsy but the noodle shop owner stops him by grabbing his hand and puts it down as he shakes his head no.

"You can get an early off, kid" Pigsy pats MK's arm "you've been hard on yourself, too hard if I have to be specific so go up and get some rest."

MK looks at Pigsy flabbergasted and blinks a few times.

"But what about the shop?" "Don't worry about it, Tang is here to help me out so it's fine"

From afar MK could hear Tang shouting 'I did not agree to this!' in the kitchen then the sound of a bunch plates falling down was heard making Pigsy flinch.

An early day off? And it doesn't cut off his salary? Is this a dream?

"Don't worry about me pigsy! I'm okay, really..." MK yawns, not helping his excuse "I want to help you, four extra hands with your hands can close the shop up early."

The brunette smiles cheerfully with dark eyebags making him look like some escaped patient in an asylum and reaches for the mop again but the pig sways the mop away from the man making MK pout.

"You can help me out by going up to your room and not bother me cleaning, now go up and rest" Pigsy demanded.

MK took a second to respond, his eyes squinting in suspicion.

"Am I in a Kalabash again?" "It's an order, MK!" "sir yes, sir!"

As MK walks up to his apartment or more to say room, he wondered why everyone was sending him home more early than usual. First it was Wukong and now Pigsy? Sure, he was tired and his body feels like it could sink to the ground but he can manage it!

He's the monkey kid afterall, he can deal with anything! Right?

The man yawns again as he stumbled slightly and opens the door to his place, his groggy and tired eyes lit up seeing a well made fort on his bed.

MK walks forward and see how comfortable it is then noticed the Sun Wukong plushies in the fort and Monkey Cop could be heard on his TV.

He pulls out a tired smile, it was like he already knew who made did this. The door behind him opens.

"Awh dang it! You got here before me..." Your voice calls out making him turn around to see you, who was carrying arms full of snacks.

"[Y/n]..." MK breathes out a hearty laugh.

"I was just getting some food for us for incase you were hungry once you come home," You walk pass him and sets down the various of snacks on his bed "I wanted to surprise you but oh well..."

You turn around to face him and does an awkward jazz hands.

"Sur... prise? I guess?"

This made MK laugh as he walks towards you and wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you closer to him, he buries his face on the crook of your neck as he lets out a delightful sigh.

You were shocked about the sudden hug but you held him tightly anyways, missing his warm embrace for so long.

This is what MK needs, you, the tenseness of his shoulder relaxes as he inhaled the smell of your shampoo, he loves your scent... It made him feel like he's at home weirdly enough...

MK's eyes closes and cherished this moment with you for a brief moment, it was as if he never wants to let go.

"You doing alright, MK?" you ask, as your hug tightens.

"Hm," he nods "I just miss you."

This made you smile, knowing that he misses you the same way that you miss him makes your heart giddy as you let out a giggle.

"What?" "Nothing nothing, you're just cute... I miss you too"

You pull away and grab both MK's cheek firmly before planting a kiss on his lips, he froze on the spot from shock of your bold action before melting into your lips.

He places his hands on your hips and pulls you towards him as you both savor this short moment with eachother.

MK starts to smile in the kiss.

You both pull away as the two of you look at eachother for a while before laughing at eachother like it was your first kiss all over again.

"Come'on, let's watch some Monkey Cop together" "Yeah! haha... Can you stay a while even after the movie?" "Ofcourse..."

Requested from Quotev :3, it's really not that much but I tried TT

#🪼gellyfish #🪼gellyfish.writes?!#lego monkie kid #lmk #lmk fanfiction #lmk x reader #lego monkie kid x reader #lmk mk #lmk qi xiaotian #mk x reader #mk x you #lmk mk x reader #x reader #x gn reader #x male reader #x female reader

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cillianmesoftlyyy · 11 months ago

Text

I Can Fix That... | Dr. Jonathan Crane x fem!reader

Summary| She's the detective assigned to investigate one of Gotham's top villains, Falcone, but as she follows her leads, she uncovers a new suspect: Dr. Jonathan Crane. His charisma and good looks won't stand in the way of justice, or at least that's what she thinks.

Warnings| Mentions of self-harm in the beginning in accordance to the movie (Batman Begins 2005). Not explicitly discussed but implied sexist and misogynistic work environment. Some archaic language when discussing psychiatric hospitals bc I tried to follow the language that the movie used. Violence with needles, drugging someone. Gun is mentioned but not used. Knife is mentioned a lot but never used to inflict pain. Smut, dubious consent, unprotected sex, restraints.

word count: 6757k (long-ass story bc I didn't want to make separate posts)

Song for a Guilty Sadist- Crywank 🎶

Butch 4 Butch- Rio Romeo 🎵

IFHY (feat. Pharrell)- Tyler, The Creator 🎶

Please read warnings before continuing, thanks <3

She had been following him for weeks, stealing into the shadows at every turn as Jonathan Crane walked through Gotham City’s Police Station. She’d been suspicious of him for months and with the men in the police force finally working up the nerve to investigate Gothem’s leading henchman, Falcone, she’d uncovered a theory that pointed simultaneously at the notorious psychiatrist. Of course, the men in her force had refused to believe her, reminding her of Crane’s long history with the department and work to establish Gothem’s Psychiatric Hospital for the Criminally Insane: Arkham Asylum. But the real reason why Crane had never been investigated was because of his status in the department of justice, and it didn’t hurt that the man was charismatic. He knew how to work the system to get what he wanted.

Jonathan Crane had a reputation of declaring criminals insane after mere minutes of deliberation, especially those who happened to work with or for Falcone. She’d been in charge of carrying out Falcone’s case and taking him to trial as a detective for the prosecution. After being put in jail, Falcone had managed to slash his wrists just enough to draw attention and a little bit of blood. He was immediately flagged for psychiatric evaluation, bringing Jonathan Crane once again into the basement interrogation rooms to administer an interview. When he clamored down the steps onto the basement floor, she was waiting for him by the door into Falcone’s interrogation room.

“Dr. Crane,” she greeted him with a smile, drawing every ounce of her long lost theater-kid days into play.

“Miss —,” he remembered her name and shook her hand with a serious glint in his blue eyes, covered by harsh rectangular glasses. His handshake was firm and strong, and he made eye contact that still shook her even after speaking with him so many times before. She didn’t let it show, however, and nodded towards the door.

“He cut his wrists last night during the changing of the guard but we don’t know how he even got access to the weapon that he used; and I’ve spoken with him numerous time since we processed him and he’s never given me any reason to suspect that he was mentally unstable, but of course, you are the professional. It’s better that he be evaluated anyway-”

“In case anything were to happen,” he finished for me and clenched his jaw. He gave a curt nod of his head and went inside, shutting the door behind him and drawing the blinds on the door closed. She scoffed quietly beneath her breath and clenched her fists. Don’t be fooled by his good looks or superior smile, she told herself, Jonathan Crane was capable of things that she didn’t know of yet. He was not someone to admire, he was someone to distrust.

After only ten minutes of quiet murmuring, she could hear clear and blood curdling screams through the door. She knocked on the door, “Dr. Crane?” She called through the door but it opened in her face before she could do anything. He stood in the doorway, his dark hair falling into his pale, angular face.

“He’s definitely what I would classify as mentally unstable,” he chuckled calmly as he side-stepped her and closed the door. He ran a hand through his hair and fixed the glasses perched on his nose. “I can’t treat him here, I’ll need to move him to Arkham.”

“Are you sure?” She asked, more surprised than anything. He had started to walk down the hallway to the stairs when he turned around, stopping right in front of her face, his breath fanned across her face.

“Are you questioning my diagnosis, detective?” He smirked, an underlying tone of warning below his wide-lipped smile. His blue eyes were unwavering as he studied her face, she swallowed to steady herself.

“No, sir. Of course not.” She apologized and crossed her arms across her chest, ducking her head nervously. When she looked back up, his eyebrow was cocked.

“Do I make you nervous, detective?” He smiled and she could tell he was setting a trap, attempting to make himself more likable, more trusting. As if he could be anything of the sort. She laughed lightly and met his eyes, holding his eye-contact defiantly.

“No, sir.” She answered and he nodded.

“Good day, Miss —.” He called with his back turned, walking to the stairs and climbing them quickly. She watched him leave and finally released a sigh of relief. There was something about him that unsettled her, but it was something that also attracted her with a devious strength, ripping factual and independent reasoning from her head.

She had started following him when one of Falcone’s men had been moved to Arkham two weeks before. She switched her assignment for the day to escort the man to Arkham, getting a chance to see the asylum for herself. It was a large gothic building with a modern facade in the center of Gotham. The attendants at the door led the prisoner (or patient now) through the heavily guarded door into the hospital’s main ward that was closed to visitors. Even police or other officials had to obtain a special license that granted them clearance into the institution. The second time she’d stepped inside, she was following a few yards behind Crane, studying how he actually entered the building. They had a separate entrance for the asylum’s psychiatrists at the side of the building by the alley. She waited a few minutes for Crane to enter the building before she approached the guard stationed at the door and flashed her badge. He’d allowed her in but warned that he’d lose his job if he did it again. The next time she followed him, she would need a new method of entering the building, one that didn’t alert Crane that she was in the building in case he got suspicious. When she entered it was easier to blend in so she followed the maze of hallways until she reached a small hub with arrows guiding attendants to the different wards of the hospital. Dr. Crane’s office was included in the psychiatrist ward (funny they had their own ward).

The psychiatrists each had their own labs, whether or not they used them was their own business, but she knew for sure that Crane used his but for what, she didn’t know. Walking down the hallway to his office, she peeked inside the wide panel of glass into his lab. He had one assistant who was copying his notes into a binder for Crane but quickly left when Crane shooed him away from the set of beakers and vials of powders he was working with. She flattened herself against the wall and pretended to answer a call on her phone as the assistant passed her in the hallway. She hurried to leave the institute, leaving through the same door she entered, thanking the security guard discreetly.

This time as she watched Crane climb the stairs, she pulled aside a police officer and explained Falcone’s transfer. The officer nodded and left to initiate the transfer to Arkham, Falcone’s hysterical screams still audible through the thick steel door. Crane tugged at the starched collar of his shirt as he crossed the lobby of the police station, sighing in relief. Falcone had tried to corner him. Him! Falcone may have been powerful but he was stupid and Crane didn’t have patience for stupidity especially from someone who was supposed to be a criminal mastermind. News flash: he wasn’t. Falcone was sloppy and arrogant, he didn’t take his own threats seriously. He’d threatened to tell the police about Crane’s experimental drug concoctions but in reality, he still didn’t know the full extent of what Crane was planning to do to Gotham.

“You don’t know anything,” Crane said pointedly, tired of Falcone’s attitude.

“I know that half of the drugs we moved belong to you and the police still don’t know what they are or what they can do.” Falcone scratched his greasy nose. Crane almost laughed. He removed his glasses and sighed, reaching into his open briefcase.

As soon as the words, “would you like to see my mask,” left his mouth, Falcone was done for. The only thing that had inspired a shred of panic for Crane was hearing the girl’s voice through the steel door, calling his name. He expected her to open the door and see his mask, and while he had an explanation that a normal officer would believe, he knew that she was different. He didn’t trust her but something about her made him laugh. She was good looking and smart but too invested in his work and he didn’t like that. He’d have to keep an eye on the young detective, Miss —. In fact, he’d like to strap her down… hide her away in his asylum and play with her head like he did with his other playthings - - - oops - - - patients. Same thing.

She pretended that her plan was straightforward, it was the only way that she could convince herself to go through with it. No one else in her department would have had the balls to sneak into the asylum where once you went in, you may not be able to leave, that is- if Dr. Crane diagnosed you accordingly. She left a note on her desk in her office, explaining where she was going and the evidence she had already collected. Photos, “destroyed” medical records, and recent missing shipments from cargo ships including one micro-wave machine meant for warfare. She made copies of everything and hid them away in a special box directed to the only person she really trusted in her department, Sgt. Gordon. Even if someone dumped the notes on her desk, Sgt. Gordon would find the box of evidence, she knew. Falcone had been transferred the day before and was nearing his second night in the institution, now was her time to investigate what he was planning to do to him and why.

She stashed a small knife at her thigh, having learned that a woman had to carry multiple weapons in this city if she wanted to protect herself, which unfortunately, happened often. She checked her weapon and put it in her holster at the small of her back. She was wearing a gray quarter length top tucked into a black skirt. She pulled on her straight black leather coat and closed the door to her office, locking the door. She knew that Crane would be in his office, he almost never went home, and with Falcone there and at risk to disclose sensitive information, he would be sure to stay close by.

The sun had already set hours before when she approached Arkham Asylum. Each window was bright with light but it didn’t make the building any more welcoming. She shivered as she approached the side door, seeing a different security guard at the door. He stood when she approached, not recognizing her.

“Stand down, officer. I’m detective — on police business,” she showed him her badge.

“You’ll have to check in at the front, detective.” The officer sat back down with a nod.

“My business here is strictly confidential; Dr. Crane said I could enter in this way.” She pointed at the side door and the officer looked nervously at her. He reached for his walkie-talkie.

“I’m here about Falcone. I am the detective assigned to his case, he was transferred here two days ago. I’m supposed to meet with Dr. Crane about some of the things Falcone has said during his initial treatment. Because of the sensitivity of Falcone’s case in the department, as I’m sure you know, the department has asked that we keep this confidential. No one inside can know that I was here to meet about Falcone. We haven’t told the public yet that he’s been transferred here. Your compliance is necessary for this.” She lied out of her ass but the officer nodded slowly when she finished, his eyes widening at the mention of Falcone’s name.

“Oh, of course. I’m sorry for delaying you. It’s just business.”

“I understand completely, thank you officer.” She smiled kindly as the officer scanned her in. Once she was inside she hid her police badge and followed the path she had scouted days before, following the black arrows to the psychiatrist ward (again, funny that they had their own ward- almost as if they were patients themselves). Her black mary janes squeaked quietly as she finally turned onto the hallway where Dr. Crane’s office was located. A row of fluorescent bulbs flickered ominously and she rolled her eyes, silently cursing the asylum for its additional eeriness. His lab was empty and dark and his office was empty though the lights were still on. An assistant passed her, coming from a different lab with a pile of boxes in her arms.

“Excuse me, do you know where Dr. Crane is right now?” She asked the assistant who shuffled the boxes in her arms to answer.

“I saw him in the ward with the new transfer patients just before I picked these up, so he’s probably about to start a sit-down with a patient. Do you have an appointment with him?” She asked curiously, knowing it was too late for a business meeting.

“No, I work in the office and I was going to request a few files to finish a transfer of a patient but it seems that he’s busy. I’ll try tomorrow morning. Thank you!” She smiled and the assistant nodded.

“Have a nice night,” the assistant hurried off down the corridor into the hub. She wasted no time in checking the door to Crane’s office which was miraculously unlocked. She hurried inside and closed the door, making sure that she left everything as she had found it. The door to the lab was located inside Crane’s office, so she entered the lab through the office. The blinds were closed to the outside so she opened the flashlight on her phone and scanned the dark lab tables for the powders she had seen before. The room smelled heavily of chemicals and cleaning solution and it was hard to breathe normally already because she was nervous. The first table was empty of anything but the second was set up for what looked to be his next round of testing. A box that looked like a closed mouse trap was set up on the table. There was a single switch on the top of the box which she knew better than to turn but she examined it nonetheless, hoping to see what it may contain. A tray of petri dishes full of powder sat beside it. Each was marked with a different series of numbers and letters, denoting their different status, she assumed. She recognized the series on one of the dishes: F7jw009. The number had appeared on the list of drugs recovered from Falcone’s drug transport. It was one that hadn’t yet been tested to see what it was composed of. She didn’t recognize the two other dishes but she assumed the powder and the mousetrap device were used for the same thing.

There was a small bookcase attached to the base of the lab table and she crouched, scanning the spines. The books on the top, free of dust, were on phobias. A bound scientific paper on the chemical structure of fear sat on top of the textbooks. She picked it up and flipped through the pages, noticing strokes of pen and notes on many of the pages. In the centerfold of the paper, she saw a picture of a cartoon scarecrow, one from a halloween decoration. It looked like it had been ripped from a kid’s storybook. She stared at the picture, struggling to place where she had heard about a scarecrow before in the precinct… she flipped farther through the pages and landed on a second photo shoved between the pages. It was a drawing of a mask made of burlap. The mask resembled a scarecrow’s face, she furrowed her eyebrows, more uneasy. Finally, she flipped to the very end where she found a clear note detailing what Crane thought the synopsis of the paper had been:

Fear can be constructed using a series of complex compounds and put into an admissible form. They have already invented serums that temporarily remove the presence of fear by blocking certain receptors in the brain that receive signals of distress or pain. By doing the very opposite, temporarily numbing the receptors that calm the nervous system when danger has been averted, fight or flight is heightened and the human mind is more susceptible to the suggestion of danger and terror. Fear merely needs to be suggested to elicit a response after the brain is prepped for the reaction. Fear can be weaponized. Building the compounds of fear into a powder, the drug can be administered immediately into the air and receive a simultaneous reaction. Pills? Water? How can we distribute this powder? What is the easiest way to administer fear to the entire population?

iii

The distinct click of a door opening and closing shocked her back to attention. She put the bound paper back onto the shelf and switched off the light on her phone. In the dark she scrambled into a hidden alcove inside the lab behind one of the hooded chemical boxes. She was pretty sure that the lab’s closet would be shared with the lab next door but she couldn’t remember which side of the room it was on. Dr. Crane had gone into his office and removed his suit jacket. He was too excited by Falcone’s reaction to his fear serum in powder form and he needed to get a handle on himself. It was nearly midnight when he checked his watch. Most of his colleagues would be gone by now, just the night staff remained to look after the patients. Night was the perfect time to work undisturbed in his lab, especially because his assistant couldn’t know the full extent of his research into the chemical compounds of human fear. He slipped his coat over the back of his desk chair and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows.

He exhaled slowly and removed a stack of papers from his desk, flipping through them as he opened the door into his lab and kicked the door closed with the heel of his shoe. His elbow flicked on the lightswitch and he spread out the papers on the first lab table, seemingly absorbed by the chemical structures his assistant had prepared for him to review. He scribbled a note in red pen on the corner of the document, berating his assistant for his obvious mistake with one of the compound structures. What was this? High school chemistry class? He licked his thumb and turned the page, writing another note in the margin.

“I know you’re here, Miss —.” He smiled, not looking up from his notes. He tossed the first set of pages further down the table and moved to the next one. “You and your perfume… I can always tell where you’ve been by your scent. I don’t think you’re naive enough to wear perfume in your field, especially when on your little jaunts into other people’s business. So, the lovely smell is from your shampoo, I venture. You use an expensive brand of shampoo because you think that your hair is your best attribute, and I agree, it's one of the best. Your job makes you feel dirty too, doesn’t it? This city makes you feel dirty and so you wash your hair every night with the same sulfate-free shampoo to get the smell of our city out of your system. Your shampoo smells like mint and you like it the best because it makes your head feel cleaner, tingly,” he laughed and moved to the next stack of stapled papers. “And that’s why you chose this job, a detective, because you feel like you’re cleaning up our streets; removing all of the bad blood of Gotham but it’s been a disappointment to say the least. The system is backwards, though you knew that from the beginning, you thought you could fix it. You want things to be right and I don’t blame you, so do I.”

Dr. Crane finished writing a note on the last paper and capped the pen. He circled the table once before moving to the second table.

“I’m cleaning the city in my own way, I guess you could say. This city needs a restart button, a way to begin everything again and start fresh. Fear can do that, fear can be controlled and it controls.”

She could barely breathe, her back was pressed against the wall of his lab. She was scared and she knew that he knew. Fear was his thing, his kink and she anticipated the absolute worst as she waited out her fate, wondering how long it would take for him to find her or if she could manage to escape.

“This machine can diffuse the compounded form of fear. I’ve used it on most of your suspects, all of them Faclone’s men. I even used it on Falcone himself. Oh, I wish you could have seen his face! The second the powder entered his system he abandoned the arrogant criminal persona, he reverted back to who he was at his very core. He was suddenly controllable and easy to manage. So you see how this could be used to clean up Gotham. It’s a way to seize back control of our city, take it away from the people who run it now; the sycophants and billionaires.”

Crane pulled a needle from the drawer at his hip and flicked the glass tube. Her chest rose and fell in a state of panic. Dr. Crane leaned against the counter calmly.

“That’s why you like me. I’m clean. I’m orderly and smart. I’m the opposite of the criminal justice system that reminds you of this dirty city. And, Y/N, that’s why I like you.”

She tensed at his use of her first name. She’d never heard him use it before and it sent a chill down her spine. She reached for her gun. Dr. Crane rounded the corner and stabbed the needle into her neck, pushing the tranquilizer into her bloodstream. She wobbled before slumping back against the wall. She managed to push past him and run for the office door but the drugs worked almost immediately and her legs began to go numb. She couldn’t feel anything below her waist and she worried that he would break her legs running without being able to feel which bones she was using to get away. She collapsed on the floor of the lab and looked up at Dr. Crane who smiled down at her, his hair disheveled.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he cooed and crouched at her feet, “I applaud you for your efforts. You may have succeeded had I not recognized the smell of your shampoo. I know you’ve been here before. You’re a smart girl but I won this game, and the victor gets the spoils. That’s how it works, Miss —.” He crawled over her and pulled the needle from her neck. She didn’t even feel it. Her hair that he loved so much was fanned out on the floor, falling in loose curls. He twirled a curl between his fingers and nodded approvingly.

“Don’t worry, I’ll treat you with the utmost respect. Afterall, you are my colleague, of sorts,” he shrugged and stood up, straddling her. “It’s a pity that you became a detective. You would have done well in this bloodthirsty field because,” he disappeared for a moment and returned with a set of keys which he slipped into his front pocket, “you’re like me.”

He pulled her up and put one of her arms around his shoulder, supporting the brunt of her weight that way. Though he was small and lanky, he was muscular and strong. He dragged her through the door in his lab that connected to a separate room that she hadn’t even noticed. He flipped the light switch with his elbow and sighed with pleasure when the room was lit up with light.

“Here it is. This is where the real fun happens, Y/N. This is where I test my new treatments on our most psychotic patients. Falcone will be here soon, perhaps tomorrow once you and I finish our discussion.” The room was smaller than the lab and housed what looked like a mortuary slab. She tried to scream but her mouth was numb. He dragged her to the table and lifted her onto the flat surface. The numerous straps he buckled around her waist, her wrists, and her feet. When she was secured onto his table, he pushed a peddle at his foot which titled the table forward, propping her more upright.

“Ah, and now I can finally see you,” Dr. Crane smiled and moved her hair so that it was caught behind her back. He straightened her hair against her chest, running his fingers through the strands. He moved a stool in front of the table and sat on it, his legs spread and his arms across against his chest. “Do I make you nervous now, detective?” He smirked and chuckled darkly when she couldn’t respond. “It will wear off soon. It’s one of those doses that act quickly but then wear off just as quickly. I wouldn’t do anything to you while you were in this state. What kind of man would I be if I did that?”

He watched her for a few minutes, his bright blue eyes trailing up and down her body. She knew what that look meant from men. Her gun was so close and yet she knew she wouldn't be able to reach it even when she regained control over her body. While he waited, he arranged numerous tools and vials around the room, humming softly to himself. She could feel herself starting to get feeling back in her stomach as the blood recirculated from her heart. Her hands and her feet took the longest to twitch awake. She dropped her head from left to right, groaning in the absence of words. Dr. Crane came back and checked her pulse, pinching her wrist and counting the seconds on his watch.

“Good girl, you’re coming back. Can you speak yet?” He supported her chin with his hand and when she didn’t answer he nodded. “That’s all right. You’re all right.” He soothed her and she couldn’t help but relax as his eyes checked over her. “Now, Miss —, where are your weapons?” He posed the question theoretically and touched her, she flinched beneath his hands. He felt around her waist and inside her jacket. “There aren’t many places to hide it.” He whispered and wrapped his hands around her waist, finding the gun at the small of her back. “Ah, here it is.” He smiled as he took the gun from its holster and tossed it onto a small lab table. “You have something else, don’t you. You’re smart so of course, you have a second weapon.” He licked his lips, thinking but it didn’t take him long to trail his hands up her thighs, glancing up into her eyes as he did. Her skirt rose as he felt below it and soon, his fingers were on top of the knife’s handle.

“What do we have here?” He lifted her skirt, showing the knife’s hiding place at the top of her thigh. “This is honestly almost funny so forgive me if I laugh.” He ripped the knife from the holster and she cried out as much as she could, terrified by his quick movement. He let her skirt fall back into place and twirled the knife in his hand, examining the small blade. “You’ve just made my night so much more interesting, Miss —.” He smirked darkly.

She finally regained her ability to speak though her words were jumbled and hard to get out around her tongue.

“Use your words, honey.” Dr. Crane frowned frustratedly.

“Please…” she managed, “don’t… hurt… me.” She pushed the words out and he listened carefully.

“Oh but it’s so hard to resist when you so willingly came here and with your own weapons. Can you see how this might be hard for me?” He furrowed his brow as he spoke and she couldn’t tell what was sarcasm and what was real.

“It was nothing personal… I had a job to do.” She whispered weakly and he cocked his head, his lips parted.

“You know it's funny because Falcone’s men all said the same thing. I know you didn’t work with them… but I can make it look like you did.” He whispered close to her face and her chest clenched with fear. “I can do whatever I want, do you understand? I have the power to say that you checked yourself in and I evaluated you. I found you on the verge of a psychotic breakdown because we all know you were already prone to hysterics. But your office shouldn’t worry because I’ll be your psychiatrist. And so what if you happen to disappear- go missing? No one comes in here, except for you, and that was stupid.”

“You might die tonight, detective. I’m sorry to say it because you are one of the most attractive women I have met in Gotham and I fear that you have ruined our chances of continuing this to a second date.” He studied the curvature of her clavicle as it dipped above her sternum. Not knowing what else to do, she kissed him. Dr. Crane stiffened as her lips met his. He pulled away, stopping short a few inches from her mouth.

“What are you doing?” He raised his eyebrow.

“If I’m going to die, I might as well make the most of it,” she shrugged and kissed him again, her head leaning as far forward as she could reach. She hoped that she sounded truthful enough. He pulled away again and stared at her, his forehead creased as he watched her. She panted softly, straining against her restraints. Her cheeks were flushed and her chest had broken out into hives from the stress. Fear made her even more beautiful. Going against his better judgment, he leaned forward into her and kissed her hesitantly. Slowly, he began to kiss her more aggressively, his tongue dragging against the roof of her mouth before he captured her top lip in a deep kiss. Her hands instinctively went to reach for his hair but they snapped back against the table. He broke away, panting, and took a few steps back, resting his back against the wall.

“I don’t trust you,” he put his hands on his hips, still holding the knife.

“What can I do, Jonathan?” She tried using his first name and he raised an eyebrow again, “I can’t move, no one can hear me scream, you’re going to kill me… what reason is there left to trust me? So, either kiss me or go ahead and kill me.” She nearly cried, overwhelmed and terrified. Her plan had been to seduce him, to use most men’s fatal flaw against him, but she worried that it wouldn’t work with Dr. Jonathan Crane. In a way, she had planned for this. The evidence was back in her office waiting to be discovered. She hadn’t gotten a chance to take pictures of the lab but maybe depending on how far he went with this, she could get away. But God, even though she was terrified and held on a slab against her will, he was beautiful. He was looking at her with his aquamarine eyes, his black hair gelled and falling around his face. Even his glasses looked perfect on his face.

“Jonathan…” she started with a shakily voice, “despite why I came today and what you’ve told me about what you want to do to Gotham, right now, more than anything, I want you to come here and kiss me because while I may hate you and you may be the cause of my death, I want you. Give me some comfort if you’re going to take everything away from me.”

“Freud would have some things to say about you, Y/N.” He pushed his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose and studied the edge of the knife. “Your psychology is so interesting,” he flicked his eyes up to her’s and set the knife down on the table. “To study you…” he trailed off as he loosened his tie and ripped it from his neck. He approached her, standing far enough away that she couldn’t reach him with her mouth. She exhaled, waiting. “I almost studied anatomy,” he pushed a hand against her navel, holding her even more in place.

“Why didn’t you?” She whispered.

“I loved the human mind too much to abandon it,” he smiled and drew a hand up her thigh. Her muscles spasmed beneath his hand. He leaned in against her ear, “I know you’re scared of me,” he whispered calmly, “and isn’t that incredible? That you can be so afraid of something that you want so much?” His hand pulled down her underwear and it stretched between her open thighs, held apart by the restraints. His hand went further still, gently tracing the folds of her labia. She knew that she was wet and it embarrassed her, though she knew it helped confirm her story that she wanted him, he didn’t seem to care either way. His thumb rubbed her clit as he slowly inserted his middle finger into her, pushing past the initial resistance. She always hated fingering because it didn’t feel like how people pretended it did. That being said, she sighed as he gently inserted a second finger and pulled against the top of her cunt, fingering her slowly.

“The body holds fear because our bodies hold memories,” he explained as he pressed her clit harder. “I can find what really scares you and I can fix it.”

“I’m scared of you,” she whispered, her breath escaping in a sharp pant.

“I can fix that.”

He pulled his fingers out of her and held her neck still against the table as he kissed her. The sense of urgency to fight and escape melted into an afterthought when the back of his hand slid slowly down one side of her neck, making the tendons flex. He held her neck still as he kissed down to her collarbones, licking their shelves and tracing the bone with his tongue. His free hand groped her breast over her tight shirt and then surrounded her waist. She started shifting her hips back and forth, wishing that she had something between them to relieve the pressure she felt. He smiled against her skin and clicked his tongue, pulling away from her. He pressed the pedal again with his foot and the table reclined once again as it had been. He climbed onto the table and sat above her on his knees, looking down at her as she panted.

“Look at me,” he told her and made sure that her eyes met his. “I have no plans to kill you tonight and I know this act is solely for the benefit of your own survival. But knowing that I will not kill you, would you like to change your mind?” He put both hands around her waist, showing the pale flesh of his forearms. She tried to weigh her options, she tried to think clearly but it all felt like a dream. It didn’t feel real enough to have consequences, so she shook her head and licked her lips quickly.

“No, keep going.” She whispered, “please.” Dr. Crane chuckled lightly and trailed his fingers down to her ankles.

“In that case, would you like to see my mask?” He smiled darkly, teasing her.

“No, I want to see your face.” She answered calmly and he nodded.

“Fine.” He removed the restraints around her ankles. He took the knife from the table and cut away her underwear with one strong swipe of the blade. She gasped and he smirked, “I’m a doctor, remember? I know how to use a knife, detective.”

He put the knife aside and pulled her knees up, sitting between them. He unbuckled his pants and withdrew his erection, glistening with precum. He guided himself into her with his hand, his eyes never leaving her face. She gasped again as he entered her. He rocked his hips slowly back and forth and groaned, watching her mouth open in a silent moan. She raised her knees higher, closer to her chest, giving him a better angle at which to fuck her. His hands pressed against her stomach and his thrusts became faster as his body began to learn hers.

“You’re getting wetter,” he observed with a sly smile, “I must be doing something right.” He teased her as he started to rub her clit with his thumb, the rest of his hand pressed against her uterus. She couldn’t even speak. It had been months since she’d last had sex and even then, it wasn’t good sex. “I’m going to go harder but you can take it,” he told her matter of factly and placed either hand by her hips on the table. Leaning forward he shifted his hips slowly but harder, going deeper without much care for how her body adapted to the thrusts. “There you go,” he grunted as his hips bucked rhythmically into hers. She cried out, her body sliding up and down against the table, hot with her perspiration. Holding onto the top of the table, he moved farther up, pushing more inside of her, and started thrusting fast. He was suddenly in so deep and only backing away a few inches before snapping back in. Her hips bounced off of his and she gripped the excess material around her wrists to help her stay stationary.

“Slow… God, please! Slow down… its so much, fuck.” She whimpered and smiled down at her face, flushed and angry with red. He slowed his hips, squeezing his glutes together whenever he thrusted inside. He leaned down and kissed her slowly, still rocking in and out of her. Her body shuttered from the high and started to build a more even climax. She hummed against his lips, her voicing getting higher as she started to orgasm.

“And here comes the orgasm,” Jonathan smiled and sped up slightly, leaving hickies up and down her neck. She orgasmed with a shuttering cry that she couldn’t cover with her hand, but he didn’t let her finish there. “Fuck, you got so tight again.” He groaned as she panted, her system overwhelmed with waves of pleasure and exertion. She started to tighten further around him as her thighs squeezed his hips. Her breath left her lungs in short pants and she moaned beneath him like a pitiful creature. “Are you cumming again?” He laughed and stroked her cheek. She nodded weakly and he kissed her again briefly.

“Its so tight, fuck. I won’t last much longer like this.” He took her hips in his hands and started a steady rhythm, pulling her hips onto his cock and thrusting at the same time. She came around him and he groaned animalistically, his thrusts becoming more sporadic and needy. He watched her breasts bounce inside her shirt and how he slid in and out of her, her cum collecting at the base of his shaft. Finishing with fast, desperate movements, he moaned loudly. She felt him finish inside her and it felt almost better than if she had finished herself. He pulled down her bottom lip with his thumb and admired her fucked-out face. Her pupils were shot and she shook slightly from the high. Finally, he pulled out and stuffed himself back into his pants. He sighed as he straightened his clothes and ran a hand through his hair. He took the gun and the knife and stuffed them both into a drawer and locked it with a set of keys from his pocket. They stared at each other for a while until Jonathan broke the silence, clearing his throat.

“You’re coming home with me tonight, Miss —. We’ll decide what to do with you later.”

#cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #fanfiction #cillian fanfic #smut #peaky blinders #jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane fanfic #hot scarecrow #young cillian murphy #dc scarecrow #jonathan crane

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0asisbliss · 5 months ago

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That was hilarious, man I feel bad for their lawyer. Imagine during at the trial.

Judge: Mr. Lucilfer, how do you plead?

Chrollo: Guilty as charged, your honor

Lawyer: W-What my client means is that he isn't mentally well

Chrollo: But I am mentally well

Lawyer: *whisper* shut up man

A/N: He would totally do this being unaware of what they were trying to do. Pt.1

Today was the day. 5 weeks of exhausting questioning. You were so tired and he had a 0.01 chance of winning this trail at that percentage was pushing it. You really wanted to get this case and dump it in the trash, but something kept you going. Maybe it was that they did bad things and maybe this was eye opening to them, and this would help them change their ways, but another part of you kinda wanted them to learn from their actions.

Chrollo was very hard to work with. He didn’t get the sneaky agenda very much even though he stole things for a living. He was kinda of one the “I understand but what do you mean?” kind of people. It was fairly annoying, but then again you could use this to your advantage. You had to in some way or you were getting no where in this case.

You gave a good fight at trail, but you knew that your verdict would depend on how you up turned the whole case.

“How do you plead Chrollo Lucilfer.”

“Not guilty your honor I am fully awar-.”

“What my client is clearly trying to say is that he’s been through a lot as a child as that is no reason as excuse for his actions but he’s not in his right mindset.”

“Shut the hell up” You mumbled to him quietly.

Chrollo looked at you shocked and oddly offended.

The judge was very confused.

“Well this case has left me tired, and quite frankly on the verge of quitting. It has come to me that you two are not quite ready for a verdict so this case is not finished the court will meet up again September 3rd 2024.”

You gave Chrollo a very dangerous side eye as the court officers lead him back to his facility.

You had 9. 9! More fucking troupe members to do. Maybe you should just give all of this up? Feitan was next you didn’t want to even to try. You didn’t even want to try for Feitan just imagine what type of shit he could say.

Today was Feitan’s day in court.

“How do you plead Feitan?”

“I’ll kill you.”

“N-No- see this is prime example of bad of condition my client is in I mean just look at the way he responded this isn’t the response of someone in their right mind.”

The judge felt a slight change in the atmosphere in which made him a slight bit afraid.

“Well I- uhm think this should stretch out a little longer. (Reader) you should have more evidence when we circle back to this case again.”

Maybe him playing crazy will get him a little farther into a smaller sentence if not that he should get a the insane card a be put into the local insane asylum and you can finally be finished with all of this.

#hxh x reader #phinks hxh #hxh kuroro #hxh feitan #hxh 1999 #hxh 2011 #hxh #hxh chrollo #hxh x you #hunter x hunter x reader #hunter x hunter #hxh imagines

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incomingalbatross · 7 days ago

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Frankenstein from the perspective of any of the other characters would be INSANE.

This guy goes off to university; flourishes; stops writing home; and then has a complete mental and physical collapse. While he's still recovering from that, his baby brother is strangled to death. He come home devastated, insistent that the servant accused of the crime CAN'T have done it, and seems more broken by her death and his brother's than anyone else. He is, in fact, VERY Haunted about something. The best anyone can come up with is "do you not want to marry your childhood fiancee anymore?"

He insists he does but he has to go to England first for unclear reasons. His bff goes with him. His bff is strangled to death in Ireland; he's arrested for the murder, released on a an ironclad alibi, but has ANOTHER total breakdown and, even after recovering, frequently insists he killed his brother, the servant, and his bff. Varies between depression, terror, and catatonic fits on and after the journey home.

The best anyone can come up with, again, is "Are you SURE you still want to marry me? Were you upset the last time you were home because there's Someone Else?" He responds that he expects very little happiness in life for any of them, going forward, but he definitely wants to marry her, and the day after their wedding he will reveal why he is a blasted and ruined man. This is kind of a typical interaction at this point, for him.

But he's totally ready to get married in ten days! He's excited for it, even!

He comes home the night after the wedding to tell his father that his bride was strangled to death.

His father died of grief. He himself has ANOTHER breakdown and is put in an insane asylum for many months.

When he finally becomes coherent and stable enough to be released again, he takes all the money he possesses, leaves the country (and his one remaining brother), and is never heard of again.

The local magistrate has a long story from him, given shortly before he left, about an eight-foot-tall abomination he created at college through the Power Of Science. He told the magistrate this abomination committed all the murders.

#I'm imagining the Sherlock Holmes case where Victor's dad or fiancee comes to Holmes like 'there's something WEIGHING on him but WHAT?'#Holmes spends five minutes around him and is like 'there is something Deeply Wrong with this young man'#'he was DEFINITELY involved in the murders somehow but that's not all of it. speaking of which what ARE these fingerprints??'

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night-night-stories-before-bed · 2 months ago

Text

Don’t take my sunshine away.

Part 2.

Warning; angst, grief, mental instability, mention of murder past and future.

Pairing; Batman/Male Reader (Established)

Note; I couldn't resist and had to make a second part. I will also have a third coming!

Summary; Even if it's been months, Jason is still on your mind and your grief is still drowning you. Yet, Superman found a way to make it worse until you snapped again and decided to give the Man of Steel a taste of the Joker’s medicine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Batcave felt colder than usual as you sat next to Bruce. A little shiver ran down your back and you felt Bruce put his cloak on you. You smiled at him as he kissed your forehead and you squeezed his hand, trying to show your husband you were fine. Even if you weren't.

Jason was still on your mind. Every minute, every second of the day haunting you and his literal last word echoing in your head. There was the anger, the pure rage that sometimes hit you like a tsunami coming from nowhere, leaving you shaking and ready to destroy everything. Amiss everything, Bruce and Dick had been your rock, just like you were theirs. You probably wouldn't have survived Jason’s death if it wasn't for them.

Dick was coming at least once a week and stayed two days, going out at night with Bruce. It was probably the only good thing coming from losing Jason; Dick and Bruce were getting closer once more. The tension between them was still there and they often came back from patrol arguing, but it always made you smile. They looked so much like father and son, just like when Dick was still Robin.

Your eyes turned to the computer, staring at the time. It was very early morning and Dick wouldn't be here until at least noon, but until then you still had visitors.

Clark and J’onn had come to talk, in the name of the whole Justice League. When Bruce told you about it, you guessed the reason immediately; Batman hadn't worked as much with the League since Robin’s death. Not only was Bruce not in the right state of mind, but he also didn't want to leave you alone in Gotham. He also knew you would be way too worried for him, your nerves still fragile. In his words, you were like a ticking time bomb ready to explode and he wasn't wrong.

When Bruce got up, you knew your guests were there. You turned your chair to face them, keeping Bruce’s cloak wrapped around you. You smiled at J’onn when the green Martian waved at you and returned his salute. You knew that J’onn understood your pain, he who had also lost two children and his wife. Clark nodded toward you and you did the same, but you saw something in his eyes and you knew things were going to go South.

You watched the three men walk away and then turned back to the screen. After a few clicks, you acceded to the camera feeds and enjoyed them. Gotham at night was an open asylum, but now it seemed so calm without a trace of crime. Well, nothing that required Batman anyway.

Until you heard Bruce raising his voice, that caught your attention because your husband was always calm. Frowning, you silently walked toward them, trying to overhear what was going on.

- “You cannot be serious Clark. That a low blow.” The voice of J’onn said.

- “That not… I didn’t mean you were going to cheat on your husband!” Superman tried to defend himself. “I meant it would be understandable if you were… you know going to divorce him and get someone more stable.”

You froze, heart dropping in your chest as you felt tears filling your eyes. You never expected Clark to think so low, so badly of you. You squeezed Bruce’s cloak in your fist, feeling your bones shaking.

- “That doesn’t sound better, Clark. He lost his son, his child. That something you can’t even understand the pain of.” Bruce said, venom in his voice.

- “He is trying to make you a murderer!” Clark replied as sharp.

- “Look me in the eyes and tell me the Joker is better alive than death!”

- “You two calm down. Fighting like that won’t do anyone any good. We need to think about his well being too. He is still grieving just like you Bruce. No one should bury a child not lose them like you two did.” J’onn interrupted and you could imagine him placing himself between the two men.

- “If we need to think about his well being then maybe he would be better placed.”

Superman’s reply was like a slap in the face, making you take a few steps back. Biting your lips, you almost ran away, not waiting to know what Bruce was going to say or do. You trusted your husband, knew he would have your back and never would betray you. Yet it didn’t take the pain of those words away.

You left the cave, going back to the manor. Somewhere in the between you lost Bruce’s cloak, but didn’t notice it until you found yourself in front of Jason’s bedroom door. You rested your hand on the handle, hesitating to enter. As much as Clark's words had stung, there was a part of truth in them. Your grief was holding back Bruce and you hadn't made much progress since that horrible night.

But you just couldn't.

Couldn't stop seeing Jason’s beaten body covered in his own blood.

Couldn't stop hearing his last word, him calling you Papa for the last time.

You broke down crying, pressing your forehead against the door and covering your mouth not wishing to be heard. Never again would you hear Jason make a bad joke or see him running to his motorcycle to follow Bruce’s Batmobile. Over were the days you two would pass working on his motorcycle or shopping to find pieces.

There would never come another evening watching a match just the two of you while Bruce was on patrol.

You weren't a father anymore. The Joker had taken the title from you like he did so many others and there was nothing you could do against it. Superman was preventing you and Bruce from getting true justice, stopping any attempt at killing the Joker. It was impossible for you to get better, his presence in your city an eternal reminder of what was taken from you.

As long as the Joker lived you would never accept Jason’s death. If only he could die or disappear!

Disappear.

You stopped crying, tears still rolling down your cheeks as you bit down on one of your fingers as the thought made its way into your mind. It was disgusting and horrible, but also terribly dangerous. Yet it was the best response to the situation and you hated yourself for thinking about doing it.

As Bruce Wayne’s husband, you were as known and as influential as him. His money was yours he kept saying, letting do as much charity as you wanted. After years of being married and living in Gotham, you did as much good as you could for your city. And it attracted friends who were as influential and powerful as you. So yes that terrible thought could be made true with only a few calls.

You took a deep breath and pushed yourself away from Jason’s door. You knew what you had to do even if Bruce was going to be mad at you. It was easier to ask for forgiveness than permission.

It was only hours later that you heard Bruce enter his office and approach you. You stood still in front of the window watching the sun rise while drinking a cup of coffee. Neither of you said a word. Bruce simply walked up to you and wrapped his arms around you, kissing your shoulder. You knew he knew you overheard them. Maybe it was your red and puffy eyes, maybe because you weren't in the cave anymore.

- “Clark is pretty pissed off with your stun.” Bruce said, resting his chin on your shoulder, his lips brushing against your ear. “I understand why you did it, but you should have talked to me first.”

Or he knew what you did…

You scoffed and leaned in your spouse’s embrace, closing your eyes for only a moment.

Your calls had worked and everyone was just in a hurry to make it happen. Everyone wanted the Joker gone and convincing Metropolis Asylum to take him in had not been hard. Especially after saying that he wouldn't be a threat with Superman always around. Metropolis Asylum was avant-garde in terms of technology and security and it wouldn't be filled with corrupted employees.

- “If we can't kill him to avenge Jason, we shouldn't have to deal with him at all.” You said with a sigh. “Clark can take care of him and have a taste of the Joker’s medicine. Besides, as your friend he can do that service for you.”

- “You still should have talked to us, me, first.”

- “No, because y'all would have refused and I just can't do it anymore Bruce. I just can't. He is always on my mind, laughing because he knows we can't do shit to him. I have to live in the same city as the murderer of my son and it's driving me nuts!”

Bruce tightened his arms around you as you sobbed, hands grabbing your cup so hard you expected it to crack at any second now. You felt Bruce pressing his forehead against your head as he whispered soft words you could barely hear. It took you a few minutes to calm down and your husband gently dried your cheeks.

- “I am not angry, not at all.”

- “I am so sorry Bruce. I keep hurting and dragging you down with me.” You sighed, defeated. “Clark is right. You deserve so much better.”

- “Nonsense. I promised to love you in health and in sickness, in joy and grief. I couldn't wish for someone better than you.”

You chuckled, finally having a small smile. Those words were like a balm to your broken soul. It has always been you two against the world and you were happy that Bruce still felt the same after all those years. There was nothing he wouldn't do for you just like you got him. You two went through so many hardship only to come out closer.

- “I spoke with J’onn and he offered his guidance if you would have him. He is ready to share his own experience with losing is family and be here for you.” Bruce said, gently letting go of you before he rested his hands on your shoulders.

You trusted J’onn with your and Bruce’s life and mind. Maybe you should accept since there was no one else around you who could understand such pain. There was no one else around you who had lost children after all. Parents? Yes. Kids? Just J’onn.

You nodded, accepting the offer and Bruce kissed you.

- “I’ll let J’onn know you accepted. He will be glad to hear that.” Bruce said, resting his hand on your cheek. “I also kicked Clark out. He won't come back until he excuses himself for his words to you.”

- “Bruce!” You groaned and rolled your eyes.

- “No, Clark is in time-out until you actually forgive him. I don't care if he expressed himself badly, he still said those words and hurt you.”

You smiled, truly, looking Bruce in the eyes. What a sweet man your husband was.

- “Thank you.”

- “You are welcome. Alfred made your favorite breakfast and its ready.”

- “Are you…”

- “Of course, I am going to eat with you.”

Bruce led you out of his office, one arm wrapped around your waist. After months you finally felt like a weight was being lifted off your shoulders. The Joker wasn't in Gotham, wasn't Bruce’s problem anymore and you didn't have to fear something similar would happen to Dick. It wasn't perfect, it wasn't justice, but you knew you could truly begin to heal now.

The hole and void in your heart would never be filled, but as long as you had Bruce by your side, it would never consume you.

#male reader #x male reader #angst #x reader #reader #batman x male reader #batman x reader #batman #bruce wayne x male reader #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne #dcu #dc comics #dc universe #robin #jason todd #dick grayson #fanfic

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murasaki-cha · 8 months ago

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Honestly the best advice I can give to someone who wants to start Trash Of The Count's Family is to never and I mean NEVER ask a TCF fan about what TCF is but ask a person who has read the manhwa casually.

Because we will never give you a simple answer. Oh no no no we:

Will spoil the everloving crap out of the novel. All of it. We just can't help ourselves. Never have I met a TCF fan who doesn't spoil the novel. I think we just forget that they are spoilers and that there are people that haven't read the novel. I have legitimately had someone ask me "What's an Eruhaben?" and I was confused for a solid 5 minutes until I remembered that there are people who haven't actually read the novel

Will not shut up. You will get a rundown of our top 10 favorite characters, top 10 favorite villains, top 10 favorite battles, top 10 favorite scenes, top 10 favorite angst scenes, etc. YOU GET THE POINT! Probably because we don't have a big fandom we get excited when new people join. You will have to read a 10 page essay it'snot a choice. There are multiple powerpoints the fans have made and I wish I was being sarcastic about this

Will scare you because we are insane overly enthusiastic about TCF. There are some inside jokes that only the fandom will get but we usually don't even try to be subtle we just go "Oh man I can't wait for Cale to be hurt so badly he's bleeding so profoundly and probably choking on his own blood! In canon!!" Or "He needs soggy apple pies or he will die!" Or "Why won't slacker life-chan return Cale's feelings?" Or "White Radish *cue laughing soundtrack*". You will think we are deranged but I can confirm none of us has been put in a mental asylum so far from what I'm aware of👍. We're just silly but our silly will concern people

Now if you find all these factors as things that will motivate you to read the novel than please welcome you'll fit in here just fine.

If not than please stick with the manhwa onlys please than try to read the novel at your own pace

(Just to be clear this entire post is meant for comedic purposes. The TCF fandom has some of the nicest and kindest people I've ever had the joy of meeting and I've made many great friends here. We welcome any new fan with open arms, warm hugs, apple pies and heavy angst lol. Never be afraid to interact with anyone here as we love to talk about our favorite novel)

#tcf #trash of the count's family #lcf #lout of the count’s family #tcf novel #cale henituse #tcf fandom

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archivequinn · 4 months ago

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MADNESS (Eddie Munson × AHS Asylum) Part I

Summary: Three years after his disappearance, Eddie Munson is arrested for the murder of Chrissy Cunningham, Fred Benson, Patrick McKinney and others, but the truth is very different. When he can't convince people that Vecna exists and that he is innocent, he is committed to a mental hospital. But the only way out is to prove to the psychiatrist that he is not crazy. If he cannot convince the psychiatrist, he will be executed as a murderer. And he must hurry to do so because Vecna has come to finish the job he left unfinished. As Eddie fights for his life, what is the most his psychiatrist can do to save him when she learns he is innocent? Perhaps the only reason his psychiatrist wants to save him is not because Eddie is innocent, but because the two of them have developed feelings for each other over time.

Warnings: It's inspired by the horror series American Horror Story, so it has a lot of horror elements. Mention of blood, hospital, electric chair, execution, injury, sex, nudity, (+18 please, MDNI) extremely depressive thoughts, depression, drugs, self-harm, suicidal thoughts and attempts, violence, smut, claustrophobic, dark moods. (please tell me if I have forgotten anything.) please DO NOT READ if at least one of these is a trigger for you.

1989, Eddie Munson's Perspective.

The police officer punched me once more in the face. I swallowed the blood that filled my mouth. My eyes were so swollen that I could only squint. The police officer took a handkerchief out of his pocket and started walking around the room. He wiped the blood off his hands in disgust. But it was my blood, not his.

"Do you hear that sound, Munson?" he said through clenched teeth. Then he continued, "That's the voice of the Hawkins people who would destroy you in two minutes if I gave you to them. They want justice. We will give them the justice they want.''

I swallowed the blood that filled my mouth again. "I didn't do anything," I said, barely breathing. He walked quickly towards me and kicked the chair I was sitting on. I groaned in pain as I hit the floor, the sound of the iron chair hitting the floor echoed around the room, like a banshee screaming. My hands and feet were handcuffed. That's why I couldn't move, the police officer was already kicking me from where I was lying. I heard the door creak open and a familiar voice came running towards us.

Hopper: "Stop it! For God's sake stop! What are you gonna do?! Are you going to kill him?! He's just a child!''

The police officer who stopped kicking me spat on me. He was pointing at me. "He's not a child. He's the devil himself.''

Hopper grabbed the police officer by the collar and threw him out. Then he helped me up off the floor. When he uncuffed me, I looked at my wrists, bruised. I could no longer figure out where it hurt the most.

I could hear chants and shouts from outside, "Die, Munson! You murderer! Give us the murderer! His punishment should be execution!"

Hopper: We're getting you out of here. In an hour.

I didn't look up. "Who reported me? Who told them where I was? God, how can they find me after all these years?''

Hopper shook his head in a negative way. "I don't know. This is beyond Hawkins now. The FBI is on the case. You're all over the national news. Newspaper stories are being printed about you from all over the world. There's a caravan of reporters and news stations outside the front door. You're going on trial for killing four people and putting one in a coma.''

I said loudly, "Four?! Jesus Christ! Vecna only killed three people and put Max in a coma. Who's the fourth?''

Hopper didn't seem to know what to do. He was as bewildered as I was. He rubbed his forehead with his hand. "Jason. They say it was you who killed him.''

I punched the table. "What the hell is that supposed to mean? All the deaths in this town are blamed on me?''

Hopper: They're looking for someone to pin it on so they can get rid of the backlog of cases they can't explain. There's no one to defend you right now. The lawyers are dropping the case. And that suits these filthy pigs.

I asked the question that had been on my mind all along, afraid of his response. "So what's going to happen to me now?

Hopper looked at the clock on his wrist and headed for the door. When he opened it, I was relieved to see it was Dustin, Steve, and Robin. For a second I thought it was that asshole again. My bones ached when Dustin ran up and hugged me. I probably had more than one fracture.

Dustin: Dude… They're sending you away. They're sending you to Bloomfield.

Eddie: Bloomfield? What, I'm going to Michigan? Do you guys know how far that is?!

Steve sat down at the table in front of me.

Steve: If you stay here, they'll kill you. Prosecutor Robert wants to execute you on this case and become a national hero. That's why he won't let the crowd kill you. You're going to a safe place.

I laughed sarcastically. "When I get to the prison there, they're going to put me in the electric chair and make me Eddie double cheese toast anyway.''

Robin smiled nervously, biting her lips. I knew that smile.

Robin: Yeah, about that… You're not going to prison.

I raised one eyebrow and looked at her to continue, but it was Steve who spoke.

Steve: You're going to a mental hospital, man. You're going to Chassell mental hospital.

I grabbed my face with both hands, i was laughing hysterically.

Hopper: We somehow convinced them that you committed these murders, but that you were mentally unstable. We told them that you kept saying it was some creature you made up in your head.

Eddie: Well, that's already true!

Hopper: Of course it's true, you shithead, but they don't know that, and when they do, that's what they'll tell you! We're saving your life! If they are not convinced you are crazy, they will execute you.

Again I asked a question I was afraid of the response, "What if they are convinced I'm crazy? Then what happens next?''

Everyone looked at each other.

Hopper: This time there will be a discussion about you staying there for life. They will appoint a highly skilled and experienced doctor to determine that. Don't make a mistake. Prove to the court that you are crazy. After the court receives the psychiatrist's report and orders you to stay in the hospital for life, we will come to get you. We will also find the asshole who reported you.

There was silence for a while.

Eddie: What about Vecna?

Robin: Nothing's happened in three years. I don't think it will happen after this time, but if it does, we'll be prepared.

Steve took something out of his pocket. It was a walkman. I took the tape out and looked at it and I saw the name Eddie Mix on it. Steve explained it before I asked.

Steve: I put your favorite metal songs on it, you know you might need it. You should guard this better than your life and keep it safe. Your life may depend on it. So if he comes hunting you…

Silence again. When I stood up, everyone straightened up.

Eddie: Okay, one last question. How do I pretend to be crazy when I'm not?

Hopper shrugged. I felt like I had just asked the easiest question in the world and I didn't even know it.

Hopper: Just tell them the truth. No need to lie.

I nodded my head in agreement. I handed my hands to Hopper to cuff them. That's what the people wanted. They wanted to see the murderer caught.

The camera flashes...

Chains wrapped around my feet...

The people booing and throwing things...

I got into the police car amid curses I didn't know which one to listen to. A long journey awaited me. I never thought that one day I would leave this town where I was born and raised like this. But one day I would come back here, exonerated, they would come to get me. I knew it.

I walked through the door of the hospital, whose gloomy atmosphere could be seen for miles around. The hospital was old and decrepit, with peeling paint and flickering fluorescent lights that cast an eerie glow on everything. The air smelled of antiseptic and decay, like something had died there a long time ago but never been properly disposed of. And in the distance, I could hear faint whispers and moans from the patients who were trapped inside.

It smelled disgusting inside. It was black and white, maybe gray. It was as if they were living in a movie from the fifties. There was no sign of life in their eyes, if there was a smell of despair, it would smell like this place. I wondered what to do in such a dull and boring place.

The people in blue clothes were patients. I could tell right away. The ones in white were nurses and the ones in white coats were doctors. I had been to enough churches to know that those in black were nuns. Of course, that was a long time ago. And then there were the guards. I noticed that they all had tasers in their pockets. None of them carried real guns.

The big hall was a vast, cavernous space with high ceilings and also peeling wallpaper. There were rows of metal chairs bolted to the floor, like something out of an old-fashioned movie theater. And in the center of the room stood a massive statue of some long-dead saint or martyr, its face twisted into an expression of agony.

A male nurse was accompanying me as I walked towards the guards. Since I was the only one dressed differently, even the patients noticed me. One of them pointed a pointing finger at me and laughed. You turn around and laugh at yourself, you jerk.

For a moment it occurred to me that if I stayed here I might actually go crazy. I turned to the nurse next to me.

Eddie. Eddie: Where are we going?

The corridors… well, they were narrow and dimly lit, with flickering fluorescent lights that cast strange shadows on the walls. I could hear footsteps echoing down them at odd hours - sometimes from other patients shuffling along in their slippers, but other times from things that didn't quite seem human.

Nurse: To get you a ward to sleep in and to get your patient clothes.

I laughed like I was teasing.

Eddie: Will I have a roommate?

The nurse gave a laugh that made it clear he was mocking me.

Nurse: Satan-worshipping assholes like you should be left alone.

As I walked through the dirty and narrow corridors, I wondered which doctor was my doctor. Meanwhile, the nurse continued to complain.

Nurse: I don't understand why they put you in ward A. You assholes belong in C ward.

I hadn't lost my cynical smile. "They must love me very much. They didn't want me to die.''

There were guards bringing a stretcher from across the hall. A white sheet was draped over the person lying on the stretcher. They carried the dying patient past me, emotionless and sullen.

The smile on my face was gone and the nurse was enjoying it.

Nurse: See, Munson? This is your only way out of here once you're in here.

We went into a big laundry room and there were big baskets of the same color blue clothes. Blue dresses for women and blue suits for men. They looked like pajamas. An orderly woman was sitting in front of the door, chewing gum and flipping through magazines.

I noticed that it hadn't stopped raining since the moment I arrived here. All the windows were barred. I wasn't supposed to be in jail, for fuck's sake.

The male nurse left me there. I went over to the person at the door.

Eddie: I was wondering if I could get a L size, I'd like to wear a little looser.

She didn't even look up. "Do you want a personal chauffeur or a cook? Go and get one of those clean ones over there that fits you. Don't bother me.''

I rolled my eyes.

Eddie: Is there a bag or a closet or something I can put my stuff in?

The woman looked at me and lowered her pointy secretary glasses down to the tip of her nose.

"You think this is a hotel, son? The only thing you take with you when you come in here is your body. We even take the wedding rings of the married people who stay here. Because even with that, they somehow find a way to commit suicide or kill someone else.''

I frowned, "How is this allowed? Don't the police do anything?"

The woman thought I was joking and laughed, but when she realized I was serious, she nodded carelessly.

"Most of the people who sleep here have no family or acquaintances. No one comes after them. We are happy to have another empty bed because there are too many patients and too few employees. Now a new psychiatrist will come for you. As if it wasn't enough that we took you."

She was waving a pen in my direction.

I put on the blue hospital gown and put my hair up.

The cell was small and cramped, a musty smell that made my nose wrinkle. There was a single metal bed frame in one corner of the room, with a thin mattress covered in stains and tears. A rusted toilet sat against one wall, barely functional and caked with grime. And next to it was a sink - more like a metal basin than an actual sink - where patients could wash their hands if they were lucky enough to have access to water.

The whole place felt suffocatingly claustrophobic, like there wasn't enough air to breathe properly. And when i looked closely at the walls or floorboards, i could see faint scratches or gouges from previous patients who had tried desperately to escape.

I lay down on the bed and looked out of the window with the bars. Then I stood up quickly. I made a few laps around the room, which was already three steps long. They had taken everything. They had taken my walkman too.

I heard the guard shouting from outside.

"It's almost nine o'clock! Lights out soon!''

anyone who wants a tag list for part 2 please let me know 🩶

my first language is not English so I apologize if I made any translation mistakes, please share with me my mistakes and your thoughts about the fic, I would be very happy. 🫶🏻

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saintmuses · 9 months ago

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Please write Jonathan Crane x Female! Reader one-shot, where the reader was admitted to Arkham Asylum because of minor mental problems and Jonathan Crane became her psychiatrist. She had a difficult situation in her life and Jonathan, having listened to her story, is attracted to her. Soon, after several sessions with her, he fell in love with her. However, after a while, Jonathan used his toxins to make her go insane, and he drives her so crazy that she is now under his control.

❝𝙚𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙚𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙣𝙖𝙢𝙚 𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝙢𝙮 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙙❞ — 𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐞

Warning(s): Dark themes. Description of Taphophobia. Usage of toxin. Hallucinations. Power imbalance. Manipulation. Strong implications of future controlling tendencies. Minors, dni!

Word Count: 946

She couldn’t see anything, nothing can see her as clusters of dirt began to fill her mouth, eventually suffocating her lungs.

No sounds could be heard other than her terror which was screaming into nothingness. An empty abyss.

“Darling?” A voice murmured, she had recognized his voice.

Doctor Crane. Her mind wailed, screaming his name. Her mouth refused to dispose of any soil she had felt in her lungs. Help me please.

She could feel the soil collecting on her skin, above her, below her, and everywhere as the hell began to engulf her and her sanity.

She felt herself being shaken by someone. “Y/N,” it was the same masculine voice, but a hint of urgency was added to his tone this time.

Doctor Crane. She attempted to shout, but couldn’t. His name bounced off in her own head again instead of leaving her throat.

“Y/N,” he shouted, finally cutting through hallucinations that was drowning her. Clearing through the muddled thoughts and images, blurring all into one until it faded to reveal a concerned Doctor Crane peering down at her.

She gasped, finding herself back on the couch that was set up in his office at the Arkham Asylum. She scrambled off the cushions and into his arms after realizing he was the one who was holding her.

“I got you, darling.” He shushed her gently, rubbing his hand down her back. “I got you.”

She whimpered, fingers clutching his blazer-clad shoulders. “Doctor Crane-“

“What did I say about calling me Doctor Crane?” He reminded her, his tone stern as he leaned away to give her a slight strict glare.

She struggled with that sometimes, and when she did it, she would receive a reprimand from him. “To call you by your first name.” She mumbled, shyly.

“You’d be a good girl, and call me by my name properly.” He ordered, the glaring light from his table lamp reflected off the glass of his metal frames as he turned his head to the side.

She ended up dragging her fingers from his shoulders to the hem of his blazer, curling her fingers into it.

“I can’t be in here anymore, Jonathan.”

It was one of the worst hallucinations she’d ever had since she started receiving them two weeks ago.

He shushed her, his icy eyes became intense as he stared into her eyes. “Listen to me; I will put the note in that your condition has improved, and you are ready to continue your recovery at home. They will let you go,” he murmured softly; running his fingers through her hair, tangling them slightly in her strands as she looked up at him with glassy eyes.

“But where would I go?” Her voice sounded small, pitiful even as she inquired. Her fingers clenched tightly in his blazer.“I-I don’t have a home. Not since my parents did not believe what happened with…” she trailed off, sighing softly; almost defeated.

“Well, you can turn down my offer if this is something you would not want to do, but I can take you in until those hallucinations stops, okay?” He offered, giving her a slight quirk of a smile. Tracing the pad of his thumb across her collarbone that was revealed during her scrambling.

She knew she was his favorite patient out of everyone in the Arkham Asylum due to his treatment of her compared to the others. He was gentle with her whereas he was stoic and harsh with others. He even let her eat in his office during lunch and dinner hours. Jonathan was patient with her, always has been since the moment she was admitted to the asylum.

Jonathan was even there during a few episodes of night terrors a few months ago, and then he was there during her hallucinations for the last two weeks. She had been compartmentalizing her hallucinations from her usual night terrors with her fear of being buried alive. Instead of dreaming of what happened to her, she was experiencing it all over again but without the vault protecting herself.

Growing up she had never known she was afraid of it; Not until her step-brother who turned out to be a psychotic asshole happened, and he tortured her by trapping her in the safe vault and attempting to throw the vault into a makeshift grave in their backyard with her in it.

She never had a home even when she was a child. Her parents -including her step-father who her mother recently married to- were never nice to her. She grew up in a household of negligence, but it was not enough to drag Child Protective Services into it.

“Really? You would do that?” She wondered, twinged with doubt. She dragged her hands from the hem of his blazer, placing them in her lap.

He nodded, his eyes shifted into a slight storm. “Yes,” he said simply. “We will get you out of here, and you’ll stay with me until you feel better.” Then his eyes lit up with a possibility of keeping her permanently when no one would miss her at all.

“Okay,” she whispered, giving him a small hesitation of a smile before looking down at the top of her thighs where her hands rested.

He grabbed her by her chin, gripping it with his fingers as he beckoned her to look at him. “Don’t worry. You’re safe with me.” He murmured darkly, his lips curled into a soft smile as he looked down at her with tenderness no one would ever expect from such a stoic man himself. Although the tenderness was there, it was tainted with sinisterness. “I will never let anything happen to you, darling.”

#jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane x y/n #jonathan crane x you #jonathan crane #the dark knight trilogy #cillian murphy x reader

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blvdymary · 4 months ago

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I want to support you. ^-^ Let me send a request. How about Jonathan Crane testing his toxin on patient and he actually feels bad because she has a massive panic attack when it wears off.

|| Thank you so much girlie this means so much to me. Also, I'd like to apologise since I was gone for a long time but I was having some struggles. ANYWAYS, hope you enjoy this and ilysm !!||

Piece Of My Past

pairing: Jonathan Crane x Reader

Summary: Holding trauma to yourself might not be the best idea but what were you supposed to do? They wouldn't believe you. Now here you were, in an asylum for the things that never happened by you but to you.

Genre: Angst, fluff/comfort.

Warnings: Mentions of SA.

Word count: 1k

Note: I am alive. I think.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

Ever since childhood, your parents and people around you knew something was wrong with you. At first, you were a talkative kid, but once you turned 7 you stopped talking. They tried every trick in the book to get you to open up, talk, and be happy like the other kids. Of course, you had your small circle of friends- not really, but oh well. So it wasn't a surprise to people around you when you end up in a mental asylum, Arkham, to be specific.

Walking towards a room in your straight jacket, both arms grasped tightly by security guards. They were acting as if you killed somebody! This much security for someone like you was useless, I mean, why not the guy who tried to eat their friend's arm? I swear to god, people in this city need a reality check.

The guards guided you into a small, white room with a metal table and two chairs seated across each other. What kind of psychotic shit was this? Your eyes are glued on the “restraints” as they called them, more like torture devices because what the hell is that and why is it looking like an 1890s doctor's equipment?

They sat you on the chair, putting the cuffs on your wrists and ankles to keep you in place. Why were they treating you like an object to be tossed around? So not fair. You watched as the guards left the room, leaving you to stare at the empty chair in front of you. Door, table, chair. Nothing to keep someone like you entertained.

Soon after —probably been 15 minutes, to say the least— you heard the door creaking open, revealing the oh-so Doctor Crane. Don’t get me wrong, he is a good doctor, as far as you heard, but you always thought there was something slightly off about him. Like the way, he stared deep into people’s eyes, the way he was cold as a barrel, and oh! Don’t forget that every patient he visits becomes delusional and psychotic the moment he leaves them alone with their thoughts. What is with this guy? What is he hiding?

He walked in, setting the brownish suitcase onto the table, and folded his hands on his lap. He looked like how your mom used to scold you as a child for not being expressive enough with your thoughts and feelings. His eyes stared into yours, taking you as a whole. God, why did it feel like you were in trouble or something? After a while of both of you staring at each other like two dogs, he finally spoke up with his condescending voice.

“So, I have heard you were having speech problems, and I'm here to help you, as you may know.” He put his hands on the table, still keeping his fingers interlocked to show authority. You look at him, then at his hands, and then at the suitcase. “what is that…?” you spoke silently, a bit too shy for your liking. When he realised his suitcase picked your interest, he had an idea. A not so great idea. He felt a little smirk appearing on his face before he quickly got rid of it and gazed at you. “I could show you if you want.”

“yes.” no hesitation, pure curiosity. Why would he need a suitcase to talk about your speech problem? You glued your eyes to the suitcase as he slowly opened it, not yet showing it to you. He cleared his throat, making you look up at him as he took off his glasses. Handsome, to say the least. Just as you were about to compliment his eyes, you felt some kind of gas getting sprayed onto your face, making you inhale it. You looked up at him, only to see…him.

Playing at the park like other kids, not yet aware of the consequences of being so pure. You didn't even notice a man approaching behind you. Feeling his gaze, you looked up, his eyes crazed but hidden behind a pair of sunglasses as he held a piece of candy towards you. “hey little girl…why don't you come with me for a while hm?” so gullible, not yet aware of how disgusting men could be. You took his hand.

Feeling tears streaming down your face like a waterfall, begging and screaming and crying for the pain to stop as all you could think of at that moment was your childhood. Jonathan rarely felt like this, guilty. as he heard your pleas to “get him off you” and “to let him go of you”. He stood up, looking down at your disheveled form before deciding this was enough. He grabbed another vital from the suitcase, one that he specifically made so he could use as some form of anesthesia. He opened the small bottle, spraying some onto your face as he watched you go from some kind of wild hog to a sleeping baby in minutes. He decided it would be for the best to let you rest before talking or even any word out of you.

Of course, the dreamland wasn't any peaceful as you continued to have the same past trauma repeat over and over and over again till you felt something pulling you away, the ending. Finally. You slowly felt your eyes open, pulling you away from the nightmare you just relived. You felt arms around you, was it…?

Needless to say, you weren't expecting Crane, one of the most heartless men in Gotham, to be holding you close to his chest when you woke up. You looked up at him but he stopped you, pulling you closer to his chest as he spoke in a more soft and gentle voice. “Everything is going to be alright, it wasn't your fault.” And at that moment you knew there was good in bad people, and people were willing to listen to you. For once.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

taglist: @hiraethberry @1-fuzzy-squirrels @justcallme1anangel @tejasvkris @rosierosem @meowsicles39

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy imagine #cillian fic #cillian x reader #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane #scarecrow #scarecrow x reader #the scarecrow #arkham scarecrow #dc scarecrow #scarecrow batman #cillian fanfic #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy fanfiction #.angelz

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mrsshabana · 2 years ago

Text

Patient!Gyutaro x Nurse!Reader - CHAPTER 1

Chapter 2

✦ CW: 18+ MDNI, female reader. Mentions of mental illness, suicide, and sexual abuse of a minor. This fic has many dark themes, please do not read unless you are comfortable!

✦ AN: The long awaited nurse au is finally here! Sorry it took me so long, but I wanted to make sure it was perfect. Lots of thought and research went into making this fic. There will also be art included in this chapter!

✦ WC: 2,146

This is what you should have expected from a job in the medical field that didn’t require much qualifications. Working at an asylum wasn’t ideal, but they are incredibly desperate for new nurses. As most of them are unable to handle the physical and mental toll that a place like this puts on someone.

It’s your first day at your new job. You were excited until you entered the building. The dreary interior mixed with the groans and screams of unruly patients wasn’t the welcome that you had been hoping for.

You’re young, almost too young to be working at a place like this. The other nurses didn’t take you seriously, and they were going to make the transition for you more difficult than it needed to be. You were being assigned to a patient that is notorious for being difficult to work with. The other nurses use him to weed out the weak. Always shifting the new hires to care for him. They usually leave within the first week, so his care returns to one of the veteran nurses known for having a mind of steel. She’s cold hearted, but that helps you deal with a job like this. The complete opposite of you. A warm young woman, eager to treat and rehabilitate.

Currently you are being led to your new patient. Quickly scanning over his records as you follow the nurse through the halls of the sanatorium.

Rashomon Riverbank Asylum

Patient Record

Name: Shabana, Gyutaro

Identification Data: Sex: Male Age: 23 Height: 6’ 3” Weight: 134

Race: Asian Hair: Black Eye: Blue

Special Handling Code: Code Red; Keep medicated Special Handling Instructions: Keep away from sharp objects

Medical History: Multiple suicide attempts, Complications due to sickle cell anemia, Treated for Congenital Syphilis

Diagnoses: Sickle Cell Anemia Hutchinson’s Teeth Borderline Personality Disorder Antisocial Personality Disorder Depression Insomnia

Current Medical Treatment: Special diet for weight gain Medications given AM & PM

Medications: Wellbutrin - 100 mg twice daily Abilify - 10 mg once daily Carbamazepine - 350 mg twice daily Xanax - 2 mg twice daily Trazodone - 150 mg once daily Voxelotor - 500 mg once daily Adakveo - 5 mg IV infusion once every 4 weeks

Gyutaro Shabana, your very first patient at Rashomon Riverbank Asylum. Looking over his record, this is going to be a difficult one. You’ve learned about a majority of these diagnoses in college, so you have a good idea about the kind of treatment he will require. It’s strange though, he seems to have lost the genetic lottery. And you haven't even seen his face yet, you can only imagine what he may look like.

An asian man with sickle cell anemia is almost unheard of, roughly 0.0022%. And on top of that he was born with Congenital Syphilis. It’s quite frankly amazing that he’s lived past 20.

“Just introduce yourself, then I’ll take you to your other patients,” the other nurse says as she stops in front of his door.

Not wanting to be impolite, you hesitantly knock on his door. There’s no response. You figured that there wouldn’t be, so you open the door anyways.

“Hello, Mr. Shabana?” you say coyly.

When you peek into the room, you are instantly frozen by his icy gaze. He’s sitting on his bed with a book in his lap. His cold blue eyes send shivers down your spine.

“I’m um… I’m your new nurse.” you choke out. He’s feet away from you but you feel as though his hands have a tight grasp around your throat.

“My name is Y/N. Um… If you ever need anything d-don’t hesitate to call for me…”

The expression on his face is unchanging, as he remains silent.

“Well I’ll see you later tonight Mr. Shabana…”

Closing the door, breaking the line of sight that he had on you, instantly you feel a surge of relief.

You go on to visit the rest of your patients, then you come back later that night to give Mr. Shabana his dinner. A high protein meal, specifically for weight gain.

Knocking on the door a few times before you push it open, “Mr. Shabana, I have your dinner.”

He’s in the same spot where you left him, sitting on his bed with a book in his lap. But this time he doesn’t even bother to look at you when you enter the room.

Stepping closer to place the food tray on his table, you inspect his appearance.

His clothes hang off of his frame, enveloping his skeletal body. You can make out lean muscles on his arms, but his face is sunken and his pants hang low on his hips. There are large black marks scattered across his face, and you can barely see one peeking out from below his sleeve. Were these marks from his Congenital Syphilis? Dark circles sit below his eyes, he looks as though he hasn’t slept in weeks.

He’s wearing the standard issue uniform that all patients wear. A plain t-shirt and pants, made of the same material as scrubs. Though his feet are bare, slippers sitting below the edge of the bed. His hair is long and wavy. Black as midnight, unruly in the way it hangs in front of his face. The top of his hair is half haphazardly tied up.

“Got a problem…?” He rasps, drawing out each word.

The venom of his sour tongue sends a jolt of electricity through your skin.

“Huh?” you’ve been sitting there staring at him for too long, “O-oh! I’m sorry sir! There’s no problem, please enjoy your dinner,” you quickly rush out of the room.

As you continue on giving food to the rest of your patients, Mr. Shabana’s voice echoes through your skull.

Got a problem…? Got a problem…? Got a problem…?

A few hours later, you go back to retrieve the tray and whatever food may have not been eaten. Stopping yourself before you open the door. It’s ok. He’s just a patient. Then why does he make you so nervous?

*Knock knock*

“Hello Mr. Shabana, I’m just here to collect your tray,” you chime, masking your fear with a smile.

Walking back into the dimly lit room, the fluorescent lights flickering. His eyes staring into you.

His food has been untouched. The only thing that was eaten was a packaged cookie.

“Not hungry today?” your voice shakes as you try to ignore his harsh gaze.

He remains silent. Watching you as you step closer. The buzzing of the fluorescent bulbs filling the room, filling your brain with static.

“Was it not to your liking? I can have the cooks make something else for you if you’d like.”

“...”

Your eyes meet. His thin eyebrows furrow, the rest of his expression remains unchanging. The pressure of his glare makes the air around you feel heavy. Pressing down on you, compressing your spine, you feel so small when he looks at you. You’re desperate to fill the cold aura with some warmth.

“Mr. Shabana you really should eat-”

*CRASH*

He slaps the tray out of your hand, food splattering onto your uniform, dripping onto the floor.

Silence. You’re stuck staring down at your feet. Watching the pool of meat, vegetables, and milk spread around you. It takes you a few moments to fully process what has just happened, only able to snap out of it when you feel the wetness of the food seeping through your skirt, making you feel cold.

You regret looking up at him. Regret meeting his eyes. Filled with amusement.

“You better clean that up… don’t chu think…?” He smirks. Showing his sharp canines and crooked teeth.

“I-I…” you mumble, looking back down at the mess. He’s right, you should clean it up before it gets everywhere.

Going into the hallway, you grab some towels and return to his room. Not thinking your next actions through as you get down on all fours and start picking up the mess. All you want to do is hurry and clean this up so you can leave. But Mr. Shabana has different plans.

He slowly stands up. Looming over you, looking down on you with a twisted grin. He’s so tall… he makes you feel so small as you look up at him. So pathetic. So worthless.

“You look good down there…” he steps on your hand, “On your knees like a whore…”

His words leave you speechless. Your vision begins to blur and your heart starts to race. He pushes his weight further onto your hand, until you feel a crack.

“I’d like to see you like this more often…” he chuckles, the sound rumbling in his hollow chest.

Every instinct within your body is screaming at you to run. But you feel so trapped. So paralyzed by him. Like a rabbit cornered against a wall by a vicious predator. His eyes. It’s his eyes. No, it's his touch. It’s… everything about him.

You try to speak up, but your words escape you. Coming out in a pathetic whine that makes his grin widen and his laughter intensify.

He’s reaching for you. His hand is coming towards your face. Your mind is telling you that if you let him get any closer you will die. He will kill you. And he won’t even care.

Your body is pumped with enough adrenaline for you to break free from the physical and psychological hold he had on you.

Pulling your hand away from under his foot, you push yourself backwards. Stumbling to stand up on your feet. You run out of the room and through the halls, not risking looking back at him. All you hear as you escape is his laughter on repeat. You can’t tell if his laughter is echoing through the halls, or if it has just been ingrained into your mind.

You keep running until you get back to the nurses quarters and to your room.

Tears running down your cheeks, food staining your clothes, and pain throbbing in your hand. You collapse on the floor and cry.

Why would he be so cruel? You understand that he’s a patient and has a list of mental illnesses, but you were trying to help him! You can’t even remember what you were doing or why you were in his room. All you remember is him and how he made you feel. His stare. His voice. His touch.

Fuck him and fuck this job.

Clambering over to your desk, you immediately start writing your resignation letter.

You don’t get paid enough for this shit. All you wanted to do is help people, and you get repaid with this? It’s just not worth it. Through your sobs, your tears fall onto the page as you hastily move your pen on the piece of parchment in front of you.

There. It’s done. You’re done.

You won’t have to see this place, see him, ever again once you submit this letter.

Looking around your desk, searching for an envelope. You come across a thick manilla folder. The tab on the side reads, Shabana, Gyutaro.

Something compels you to open it. You already skimmed through his information, but you never looked at everything here.

His psychiatric notes? From his psychiatrist? These shouldn’t be in here… you shouldn’t have access to this confidential information.

But if you’re leaving anyways… then there’s no harm. Right?

Shabana, Gyutaro - Dr. Hantengu

August 14

Childhood trauma starting since birth

Single mother, no father

Raised as a female. Mother would dress patient as a daughter. Would cover up his deformities with makeup. (Feelings of worthlessness, not belonging)

Sister born at age 6 (turning point in patient’s life)

Mother cast aside patient for sister. (When he learned he was actually a boy. Feeling of confusion. Child cannot comprehend)

Sexual abuse started at age 10

Mother was a prostitute, would offer children to adult clients.

Patient record, “She would bring men into our house… and let them touch us. (long pause) They wanted my sister. They wanted to do bad things to her. So I… (patient gets upset) I would offer myself to them. I would perform sexual acts for them so they would leave Ume (sister) alone.”

Sexual abuse continued until age 15

Mother died of overdose. The children were left in the home for over a week until someone found them.

Children taken to orphanage.

Patient held in orphanage for 8 months until incident.

Brought to Asylum at age 16

End of first session

You are left speechless.

Reading his records reminds you of why you wanted to be a nurse in the first place. To help people that have gone through trauma such as this. He didn’t lash out at you because of something you did. It’s not your fault. And it isn’t his either. He just needs help.

And you will be the one to help him.

#gyutaro #gyutaro shabana #gyutaro x reader #gyutaro x y/n #nurse au #nurse reader #gyutaro fanart #kny fanart #demon slayer fanart #hantengu

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