#scarecrow x child reader

[youngstarfishphilosopher]

PLATONIC! J-SQUAD X CHILD READER (HEADCANNONS)

Warnings ⚠️: IMPLIED CHILD ABUSE, METIONS OF MURDER, ACTUAL MURDER, HYPNOTISM, THREATS, KIDNAPPING, POSSESIVE BEHAVIOR, IMPLIED USE OF FEAR TOXIN

JEROME VALESKA:

Welp, good luck, my friend

- You would be one of his hostages who he was planning to kill. Patiently waiting your turn for your fun death. You had an abusive / less than kind family member with you at the time who had forced you to go there.

- When realizing that you two two were a little family unit, he decides to amuse himself a little.

- " Hey, hey you!" He would yell at one of his goons. " Tye them up to that uhhhh. . . That spinning wheel thing. And bring the kid over to me."

- Tying your family member up, Jerome places one of three throwing daggers in your hand( crowching down if you're small) while kind of just coaching you on how to throw them.

- What a surprise for him when not only do you do it without hesitation, but with a small smile on your face.

- That's when he goes, " Alright, change of plans, I like this kid." And immediately takes you under his wing

- There is never a dull moment with this man. There are plenty of bloody and horrific ones, sure. But never dull.

- Will make you kill the rest of your family members or do it himself if you can't. You're his now, and he doesn't need anyone trying to get in the way of that or distracting you.

- Sees himself as more of a mentor figure to you rather than an actual parent. But if you do end up calling him dad, he's not complaining.

- Takes you along with him for many of his usual, murderous antics. No matter how old you are, even if you are on the much younger side. "Best to teach them young," He would say.

- Praises you a lot whenever you decided to join in on the fun and always makes either his goons or his hostages cheer for you.

-If you're more on the socially anxious side, he'll try to put you in the spotlight less often and leave your killings as just some private family bonding time.

- This man CANNOT cook. He would burn whatever place he was staying out down to the ground if he tried.

- Gives you a lot of freedom to have fun and do whatever, but don't think that means you're allowed to leave or disobey him. You're still his protégé and need to listen to what he says.

- If you are on the younger side, that list of freedoms would be much shorter.

- He would want you around his vicinity or next to him and would make some of his goons keep an eye on you if he was busy with something.

- Lots of physical affection and inside jokes from this guy.

- All in all: Getting a child wasn't something Jerome had on his bucket list. But he's not really complaining.

JERVIS TETCH:

- To say this man is obsessive is the understatement of the century

- Spots you in the crowd at one of his performances and chooses you as his willing participant

- You might as well forget your parents now, because he'll have already hypnotized them to walk into traffic or jump off a building.

- Unlike the other two, Jervis will expect for you to see him as your dad.

- Will plan extravagant teaparties with all your favorite teas and sweets. And if you're not a sweets kind of person, then he'll put out more savory stuff like sandwiches as soupes.

- Hope you like fancy outfits, because you'll be wearing a lot of them. But don't worry, he'll try to find some that you're comfortable in.

- Doesn't give you a whole lot of freedom. Especially if you're on the much younger side.

- He'll also just randomly picks you up and carry you around with him if you're small enough for him to do so.

- Will not hesitate to hypnotize you and tie you up if he feels it is necessary. So you nest behave

- Usually reads bedtime stories to you, no matter how old you are.

- In conclusion, this man is obsessive and delusional. So just sit back, relax, and let your new papa take care of you.

JONATHAN CRANE:

-Well, this is rather unexpected. He never really saw himself taking care of a child

- He met you at Arkham: His cell next to yours. And you two would talk through the walls whenever a day was especially boring.

- After a while, he warmed up rather well to you. He starts to see you more as family in a way and immediately gets you out of your cell when a breakout in the asylum starts.

- Keeps you far away from your previous family members if you have any. He wouldn't kill them the first time per-say, just . . . Scare them away.

- The second time, he would be much less merciful. They had their chance and should have listened.

- He doesn't let you get too close to him when he's working on his projects in fear of you accidently getting hurt. But if you're an older teenager, he would ask if you would like to try and face your fears.

- He wouldn't force anything, though.

- You see him more as an older brother type figure rather than a parental one.

- Agian, if you are older, he doesn't really let you participate in his antics and usually lets you stay home if he trusts you. But will just bring you along to watch if you're much younger.

- A decent cook all things considered. Not the best by any means, but at least it's not a burt piece of charcoal.

- Will sit and talk with you whenever you need it. He's a pretty good listener.

- He can also get really protective a times, no matter what age you are, and will not hesitate to fear gas somebody.

- Not the best when it comes to physical affection. But will give you some if you want it.

- Although you entering his life was unexpected. Jonathan has found himself enjoying your company a lot more than he ever thought he would. It's probably the only thing good that ever came from being trapped in arkham.

#gotham jervis x reader #gotham jervis #dc villains x reader #gotham #gotham x reader #j squad #j squad x reader #platonic reader #platonic x reader #gotham scarecrow #jerome valeska x reader #scarecrow x reader #scarecrow x child reader #jerome valeska x child reader #jervis tetch x child reader #child reader #jervis tetch x reader

[soapskies]

Could I request a yandere nolanverse scarecrow with a reader who is a patient at Akrham. Maybe reader has anger or trust issues and only interacts to certain individuals because most people aren't very affectionate or kinds (platonic if possible please since I'm a sucker for your teen/kid reader fics)

YAN. NOLANVERSE SCARECROW W/ TROUBLED PATIENT

MALE READER. PLATONIC HCS. READER IS AN OLDER KID.

— Nolanverse Jon is a psychiatrist, not a psychologist, but I thought it would be more interesting if I wrote him to have one-on-one sessions with reader. So suspend your disbelief. :P

You learned early on that the only way to survive your situation was to shut down, or fight your way through it.

One of the youngest patients at Arkham, you were infamous among your doctors for being very uncooperative during your sessions

Most of your issues exacerbated by the conditions at the asylum, and inmates who had no trouble walking all over you.

Your therapists (who didn’t care much for juvenile delinquents anyway, when villains like the Joker were housed in the opposite wing), were quick to walk out on you when you lashed out, all except one.

Dr. Crane was the only one who stayed in the room with you, even when you were screaming until your throat burned and spent entire sessions curled up on the floor.

Although you glared daggers into him, he met you with an even tone of voice and a self-assured demeanor that couldn’t be matched, scribbling away on that notepad of his when you thought there was nothing of importance to note.

Dr. Crane seemed to make all the time in the world for you, always first on the scene when you broke down, and never treated you harshly, no matter how cold you were towards him. No matter how many other doctors looked at you with contempt, as if counseling you was a chore.

Maybe if you were paying attention, you would notice that you ran into him a lot outside of sessions, in which he would prod about your well-being and insist on walking you wherever you needed to go, like an overbearing father.

Not to mention how his actions went far beyond a normal doctor-patient relationship, whether it was holding your shoulder steady to look you sternly in the eye or the tight, awkward squeeze he would give you briefly before parting ways

He seemed to prod you about everything. How you slept, what you ate, who you talked to, what your family is like…

Come to think of it, you haven’t heard from your parents in a very long time, since you started your sessions with Crane. Not that you wanted to hear back from them anyway, when they were the ones who sent you there in the first place.

Miraculously, you were eventually released for “good behavior”, despite your headspace not feeling any clearer, and in none other than Dr. Crane’s care.

Nobody seemed to question it, or give you a second glance as you walked out the doors with him. You were under the impression you were going home, only to be herded into the doctor’s car and driven to some secluded house in the countryside, a good long ways away.

Suffice to say, you never left out of his sight again.

#scarecrow x male reader #jonathan crane x male reader #jonathan crane x reader #scarecrow x reader #scarecrow x child reader #scarecrow x you #tw yandere #yandere x child reader #yandere #yandere x male reader #platonic x reader #nolanverse scarecrow

[madame-fear]

Could you do something with pregnancy and children with DK Scarecrow, if you're comfortable please, i think he'd be such a great dad and genuinely want to be the best he could? I think if he was with the right person he'd really want kids :)

Hii dear !! <3 Omg yes I totally agree, he's be such a precious little sweetheart when it comes to his own little children 🥺❤

I wrote for DK! Jonathan/Scarecrow as a dad in other headcanons, so I'll leave the links below so you can read them! Plus, I'll write some extra hcs for you in here <3

Click this link to read headcanons about Jonathan finding out the reader is pregnant!

Click this link to read headcanons about Jonathan having a child with the reader!

--- Extra HCs ---

While you were pregnant, he would've been extremely overprotective of you.

Also, spoils you a lot. You've got cravings? Don't worry, he's already prepared a full stash for you.

Learns every possible thing about pregnancy and fathering a child. He wants to be as prepared as possible!

Absolutely over the moon about it! <3 His hands would always be around your stomach 🥰

When your child was born, he would be drowned in a wave of emotions: anxiety, joy, happiness, nervousness, love...

But overall, he's extremely happy and has love eyes for his little baby.

Laughs & smiles a lot more for his child

Not a huge fan of changing diapers, but he's willing to help you because he's a gentleman and loves you & his child a lot.

Spoils his child a shit ton. He always takes him/her out for a walk, to play on the park, or even to buy some toys!

He's always a bit anxious deep down inside, mainly because he's scared of what his child will think of him and his work when he/she grows up.

All he needs is for you to comfort him & tell him his child loves him no matter what, and so do you.

Overprotective dad!!!

Always carrying his child on his shoulders, or randomly grabbing him/her and spinning them around the room only to hear him/her giggle.

Calling his child sweet little nicknames.

The most helpful dad ever!! If his child ever needs help with homework, he's there to do the best he can to help his little baby out.

Unlike other parents, he wouldn't take his child to work because, obviously, it's too dangerous. But he would tell him/her about what he does for work.

Simply the best dad ever <3333

#Dk Jonathan crane x reader #Dk Jonathan crane imagine #Dk Jonathan crane headcanons #Dk scarecrow x reader #Dk scarecrow imagine #Dk scarecrow headcanons #Nolanverse Jonathan crane x reader #Nolanverse Jonathan crane imagine #Nolanverse Jonathan crane headcanons #Nolanverse scarecrow x reader #Nolanverse scarecrow imagine #Nolanverse scarecrow headcanons #Dark knight trilogy #Batman begins #Pregnant headcanons #Child headcanons #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane x you #jonathan crane imagine #Jonathan crane headcanons #scarecrow x reader #scarecrow x you #Scarecrow imagine #Scarecrow headcanons

[j0elmill3r]

Emotional Motion Sickness

Pairing - Joel Miller x Daughter!Reader, Ellie Williams x Miller!reader

Summary - Joel relives the worst night of his life when you are critically injured.

Warnings - Violence, blood, injuries, angst, sad Joel

Word Count - 2.5k words

Anonymous asked:

Hello! I wanted to tell you that I love your writing❣️ and by the way, I wanted to ask you for a petition for Joel miller x daughter! reader. Where his daughter is almost on her deathbed and has Deja vu with what happened with Sarah.

A/N - Okay what's going on? Why am I so motivated to write? Anyway, as always, thank you for the request, I hope you enjoy it! Feedback, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated!

Joel Miller Masterlist

You'd basically begged your dad to let you come with you, despite being 23 years old, Joel still very much babied you. You sometimes wondered if he still thought of you as the same person that you had been at the start of the apocalypse, an innocent child entirely dependent on her father - He made you think that he couldn't come to terms that you had grown up in this world, having had your entire childhood robbed from you. But if you were being totally honest, you didn't really know anything other than this world, and that's why you thought you bonded with Ellie so well, thinking of her as your younger sister - A bittersweet thought for Joel, since you were a younger sister, even though you had no older sister anymore and were now older than her, it was funny, you were now older than your older sister. He liked to think you and Sarah would share the same bond at that age that you and Ellie do now, even as adults.   

You looked over to the bed Ellie lay in as you heard her giggle to herself - That stupid joke book, you thought to yourself, but hey, it was the little things in this world. She looked over at you.

"Hey, do you wanna hear a joke?" She asked you. You turned over on your other side to look at Ellie and nodded, knowing that you didn't really have a choice in the matter. "Okay, Why did the scarecrow get a promotion?" She started.

"I don't know, why did the scarecrow get a promotion?" You amused her. Ellie giggled to herself before continuing on with her joke.

"Because he was outstanding in his field," You shook your head as Ellie continued giggling. There was something oddly comforting in her jokes, they reminded you of the ones your dad used to tell you when you were little when he was trying to get a smile out of you when you were grumpy. "Your dad doesn't find my jokes funny." Ellie whined. You laughed and shook your head, laying on your back.

"To be fair, your jokes are pretty bad," You broke the devastating news to her, hearing Ellie gasp, and you smiled in amusement.

"I, am gonna go to sleep now and pretend that you didn't say that," Ellie told you. "Goodnight, traitor." She said, trying to sound as offended as she possibly could.

"Goodnight, Ellie," You told her. You tried to go to sleep but felt a settling unease in your stomach that you couldn't explain. You knew you could never shake off your gut feeling, which was why you couldn't sleep. You couldn't seem to switch off, your brain running at a mile a minute, unable to shake off the unease settling in your stomach. The day had gone too well, considering your dad's reunion with your uncle Tommy had gone to plan, there hadn't been some catastrophic fuck up at all during the day, somehow unsettling you. Then came a thud from the front door. Quietly, you crept down the hallway towards the door, your body and breath shaking with each step you took. Another thud. This time, you didn't know if it was coming from the door or your heart thumping in your chest.

Thud.

Crash.

Before you had any time to think, a runner came launching through where the door once stood on its hinges, then sprinting towards you. You screamed out for your dad before being body slammed to the ground by the runner, trying your best to fend it off and protect yourself from being bitten.

"Dad!" You screamed out, fear evidently clear in your voice. Joel woke up at your screaming, immediately reaching for his gun as he ran out of bed and to the room that you and Ellie were sharing, where the aforementioned girl lay sound asleep. Running down the stairs, Joel found you fighting for your life. Without hesitation, Joel fired two shots into the back of the runner’s head. You quickly shoved the body off of you and scrambled to your feet, running to your dad and wrapping your arms around him. Joel let out a sigh of relief as he held you.

"It's okay, look at me, Y/N," Joel demanded softly. You met your father’s worried eyes with your tear-clouded ones. "Did it bite you?" He asked you, in a serious, yet comforting tone. You shook your head in response, rubbing your eyes of tears. It went quiet for a minute, only for it to be replaced by that terrifying clicking sound. More gunshots went off. Bang. Bang. It didn't matter how many times you experienced a hoard of infected, the fallout never ceased to terrify you. Joel knew that, feeling that your breathing had become quick and shallow. "Okay, go and get Ellie, we need to get out of here, okay?" Joel had both hands on your shoulders, looking you in the eyes. This was when he remembered that you deep down, were still a scared little girl.

"Okay," You said quietly, your voice trembling as you looked out of the front door, more gunshots ringing off in the distance. You went back upstairs to wake Ellie up, giving her a gentle shake at first. "Ellie come on, we need to go," You told her. She groaned in response, turning to her other side. "Ellie, I'm being serious. There are runners everywhere." Suddenly, the girl found the energy to get out of bed, quickly jumping into her shoes and slinging her red zipper on. You both ran down the stairs and out of the house, into the open air where herds of the infected runners overtook the commune. You looked around frantically for your dad or uncle Tommy, sighing in defeat when you found neither, deciding to quickly grab Ellie's hand and make a run for one of the trucks you could both take refuge in until it blew over. However, on yours and Ellie's beeline to the row of trucks, you heard one last gunshot ring out.

You stopped dead in your tracks. Everything had gone silent, but then it all came back, the blood rushing to your ears, Ellie yelling out for your dad, your dad calling out your name. You didn't know why, had something happened? Was there something behind you? And then you realized, the blissful unawareness of the gaping hole in your stomach dissipated, and was now replaced with excruciating pain.

"Joel!" Ellie cried out, her eyes filling with tears as she watched you collapse onto your back, hyperventilating as you clutched at your bloodied stomach. "Hurry!" She cried panickily, kneeling beside you. Joel came running over, skidding onto his knees beside you.

No, no, no! Sh-sh-sh-sh, okay, you're okay. Y-You're okay, move your hand, baby. Move your hand.

Memories of your sister’s death came flooding back to him, only it was you in the exact same position, 20 years later.

"Y/N, hey, come on, it's okay, look at me," Joel said loudly over your hyperventilating. "I need to pick you up baby, you're gonna be okay," He promised you, putting his arms under you, wincing as you cried out in pain.

I know, baby, I know, I know, I know, I know! I know it hurts. All right. Don't look down, look up, look up. Come on, baby. You're okay, you're okay…

You continued crying in pain as Joel ran back to the house, carrying you in his now blood-soaked shirt. You'd gone pale, shaking as you grasped at your dad's shirt. Tommy followed in suit as you were taken back to the house that the three of you had been allowed to stay in for the night before continuing your trail to finding the fireflies. Tommy swiped everything off of the table so Joel could lay you down on it. The commune's doctor came in with a first aid kit, rushing over to you.

"I need everyone out," She said, looking at your dad, Tommy, and Ellie. Joel wanted to scream at her. No. He wouldn't leave you alone. "Now, please, or she's going to die." The three had never left a room so quickly, but for Joel, everything was going in slow motion.

"I know, I know, I know, I know, baby. I know, I know! I know this hurts. You're gonna be okay. All right… Baby, baby, baby, listen to me—I gotta get you up, okay? I gotta get you up. All right? You c'mon. You c'mon."

You grabbed his arm the same way that she did - as if it were the only thing keeping you alive at that very moment. Joel sat down on the stairs, dropping his head into his hands, leaving Tommy and Ellie clueless about what to do. Tommy knew what Joel was thinking, he still remembered the night of the outbreak, remembered holding you, only 2 years old at the time - 4 days shy of your 3rd birthday - as your sister slowly died in your father’s arms.

She continually gasped, both for air and in pain as Joel tried to pick her up.

"I know, baby! No, no. I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know! Tommy, help me!"

Tommy watched on helplessly, holding an increasingly distressed you. Although you weren't quite old enough to comprehend what was going on, you knew it wasn't good - You could hear your sister crying and gasping, but Tommy held you chest to chest, you didn't need to see what was going on.

"Joel," Tommy said tearfully, looking over at his oldest brother and oldest niece, who now lay limp in her father’s arms. Joel looked back to his oldest daughter.

"C'mon, baby girl. C'mon, baby girl, I gotta get you up. C'mon! C'mon, we'll get up! C'mon, baby girl, wake up! C'mon… come—please," Joel gave up begging, collapsing to his knees in tears. Tommy put a hand on his brother’s shoulder, and it was then that Joel realized how distressed you were. "Give her here," Joel sniffled, rubbing his eyes and nose as he held his arms out for you. He held you close as you continued sobbing.

"Daddy," You cried, clinging to your father as though he was your lifeline. He put his hand on your back, trying not to let the tears in his eyes spill over as he rubbed your back.

"It's okay baby girl, daddy's here, I've got you," He assured you, sensing your fear. "It's all gonna be okay baby girl, I promise." Joel didn't know who he was assuring, him or yourself.

The tension was thick was the commune nurse came out of the dining room, coated in a layer of your blood. She made eye contact with Joel, remorse written on her face.

Oh, no.

You had ended up staying longer in Wyoming than the three of you had hoped for, but there was no way it could have been prevented, given that you had been put on ordered bedrest for at least 3 days, but Joel had made you do 4 - Just in case, he had said. Ellie had been more clingy with you than usual, which had reminded you that despite how hardened she liked to act, that she was still only a child who had been unfortunate enough to be born into this world.

You knew the night had been traumatic for your dad, resurfacing painful memories of Sarah's death, you didn't know if your dad would have recovered if he would have lost you in the same way he had lost her. Joel sighed as he watched you limp into the kitchen, holding your stomach as you did.

"Good morning," You said quietly, hobbling over to the chair so you could sit down. Joel shook his head at you and handed you a glass of water, and your last antibiotic. "Thanks." You popped the pill into your mouth and took a swig of water, then swallowing both.

"You're supposed to be in bed," He gently scolded you. "Another day resting won't kill you." He said. You sighed and shook your head, you knew why he was being like this, he just didn't want to lose you, he had already lost so much to this apocalypse.

"Dad, I'm fine, honestly," You assured him, looking up at him as he leaned against the kitchen counter. "Just still a bit sore." You said, rubbing your stomach as you moved. You had to be careful of how you moved, just in case you tore your stitches.

"Please go back to bed, baby," Joel pleaded with you. You knew he wouldn't relent in trying to get you back onto bed rest, you sighed in defeat and nodded. "Thank you, do you need me to carry you up the stairs?" He asked you. You blushed in embarrassment as you nodded - what 23-year-old still needed her dad to carry her to bed? Well, obviously you did since your large intestine had a slight tear in it. You whimpered slightly as he picked you up, and you saw the guilt immediately flood onto your dad’s face.

"'M fine," You mumbled, holding onto him as he carried you up to his bed. You didn't question it, but accepted it for you were in need of some comfort, and if sleeping in your dad’s bed gave you it, then so be it. You saw an amused smile on his face as you looked up at him, quirking a brow in confusion. “What?”                                                                                                                               "What's' Forrest Gump's password?" He asked you, a small smile on his face.

"Huh?" You asked, confused at who this Forrest Gump character was.

"1Forrest1," He finished. Then you realized - Ellie's jokebook, and how he used to tell you dad jokes when you were sad to try and cheer you up. You giggled at the joke as you looked at your dad. "You have no clue who that is, do you?" Joel asked you, laughing as you did.

"Not one at all, old man."

#joel miller x daughter!reader #joel miller hbo #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel tlou #ellie williams #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams hbo #x daughter reader #x daughter!reader #x daughter #hbo the last of us #the last of us

[candycandy00]

The Scarecrow Walks at Night - A Shigaraki x Reader Halloween Fanfic

You spend Halloween night alone at your grandparents’ farm, but there’s something strange about the scarecrow you’ve always felt a connection to.

Part of the League of Villains Halloween Horror Anthology! Featuring Shigaraki as a scarecrow!

Smut. 18+. Horror (the creepy kind not the gory kind). Mild blood. Fem Reader.

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

On your way back from a concert you just attended several states away, you decide to stop and spend the night at your grandparents’ farm. You thought it would be fun to drive to the concert instead of flying, make a solo road trip of it and stop here and there along the way, seeing the sights. 

Turns out there aren’t that many sights to see in rural farm country. So you decided to just drive straight home after the concert, but you’ve been getting drowsy and decide you need to stop somewhere today and rest. That’s when you remember the farm your grandparents live on, just a thirty minute drive out of your way, sitting at just about the halfway point between the concert venue and home. It’s the perfect place to rest, and you just know your grandparents will be thrilled to see you. 

As a child, you visited the farm often, spending many summers there. But when you were around nine years old, your parents stopped taking you to the farm. Something about your grandparents buying an RV and looking for any excuse to travel, so they came to visit you and your parents instead of the other way around. You missed playing on the farm, feeding the animals, running through the massive cornfield. But over the years your memories of the farm faded, until your time there was more like half forgotten dreams. 

Still, you had GPS, and when the signal cut out on your phone due to the unreliable rural cell service, you had your hazy memories to guide you to the farm. 

It was hard to miss actually, being large and having a beautiful big white farm house, a bright red barn, and various other structures like tool sheds, storage buildings, and things of that nature. All things you suddenly remember playing around or in as you pull into the driveway. 

You immediately notice that there are no vehicles in sight. You know they still own an SUV and an old pickup truck aside from the RV, but none of them are parked nearby. You tried to call them a couple of times before you lost service, but couldn’t get through to them. They were old fashioned though, and disliked cell phones. If they were not home, chances are you’d never get ahold of them. 

After getting out of your car, you walk to the front door and knock. No answer comes. The whole house is silent. In the distance you hear chickens clucking, but no other noise. With a disappointed sigh, you walk over to a free standing garage your grandpa had built way before you were born. There’s a crack between the heavy wooden doors big enough for you to peek inside. You can see the SUV and the pickup, but no RV. They must be out traveling somewhere. 

You’re about to give up and go find a motel in town when an idea strikes you. When you were a child, you remember your grandparents leaving a house key under some stones in the front yard. You jog over and search, easily finding a shiny metal key. It was amazing how many memories were coming back to you now that you were here. 

You step back onto the front porch and use the key on the door. You know your sweet, easy going grandparents wouldn’t mind you staying at their house even if they aren’t home. 

As you open the door, you notice a homemade wreath decorated in orange and black colors, a plastic pumpkin glued to it. You’d almost forgotten that today is Halloween! 

After carrying in your overnight bag and looking around the house a bit, you walk back outside. There’s something you need to see before it gets dark out. 

You walk through the cornfield, the path feeling familiar to you, almost like second nature. Yes, you remember now. How could you have ever forgotten? You walked this same path so many times as a child, walking it now is like muscle memory. 

Finally, toward the end of the cornfield, close to the edge of the property, you find it. 

“I’m back, Tomura,” you say, looking up. “Did you miss me?”

High above you, affixed to a wooden stake, is a scarecrow. He’s dressed in faded denim pants and a red and black flannel shirt that is in surprisingly good shape. On his head sits an old hat, long scraggly corn silks hanging out from under it serving as his hair. Two red-colored stones function as his eyes. As always, he seems to be looking right at you. 

While there are many scarecrows on the property, this one is special to you. Even as a child, you were drawn to it. You came out here to play every day, and you pretended he was your “boyfriend”. Which meant you had tea parties with him and imagined him dancing with you at Cinderella-style balls. Most of all, you just talked to him. You told him everything, every mundane detail of your day, every secret, every fear. And somehow, it felt like he was listening. 

Some local kids who came over to play with you occasionally told you his name was Tomura, and you never forgot it. You almost forgot the scarecrow himself, but not that name. It was burned into your mind. 

They told you other things about him too. Things that made you cry. What was it again? Something about Tomura once being a real young man. Ah, the memories were coming back more clearly now. 

It was the kind of silly story kids make up to scare each other. They told you that long ago, way before your grandparents owned the farm, Tomura lived there with his family. When he became an adult, he wanted to leave the farm and move to the city. But his abusive father wouldn’t accept that, and as punishment, Tomura was tied to the stake like a living scarecrow and left in the cornfield. It was just supposed to be an unpleasant afternoon, but something went wrong, and Tomura died out there. 

For some reason, his corpse was left tied to the stake, and exactly one year later, on Halloween night, Tomura came back to life and slaughtered his entire family in his madness. 

But that’s not the part that bothered you. No, you were crying over the cruelty of his father, the sadness Tomura must have felt. As a child, you ran to the scarecrow and hugged his feet, sobbing out apologies for what had been done to him. Around that time your grandparents told you to stop playing with the scarecrow, apparently worried that you were growing too attached to the thing. Come to think of it, that was the last summer you spent with them. 

There was another part to the story the kids told you, a part that did actually frighten you, but you can’t remember what it was. As you gaze up at the scarecrow, you wonder if that memory will return while you’re here. 

When you were here last, you could barely reach his feet, but now you’re tall enough to reach his waist. You step closer to him, feeling oddly shy before giggling to yourself. He’s just a scarecrow. It was just a dumb story. You find yourself wrapping your arms around him, giving him the hug you couldn’t quite manage before. 

Looking up into those red “eyes”, you smile at him. “I don’t know if you remember me,” you say, feeling a little foolish for talking to him but also feeling the need to say this, “but I came here a lot when I was little. I played here, talking to you and pretending we were friends. I know you couldn’t talk back, but I always felt like you heard me. Thanks for that. You made my childhood a little less lonely.” 

You release his straw body and back away. “I’m sorry it’s been so long since I came to see you. I’ll be here tonight and a little while tomorrow. I’ll come say goodbye before I leave.”

Blushing slightly at your own silliness, you walk back into the cornfield, toward the house. You feel a little better now that you’ve gotten that off your chest. You knew he couldn’t actually hear you. He was an inanimate object after all. But you said those words for yourself, not him. 

You feel your phone vibrate in your pocket just a few feet into the corn. You check it to see that you have two bars of signal out here. You make sure there are no important messages or missed calls, no contact from your grandparents, before going back to the house. 

The sun is setting as you step onto the porch, and you take a moment to appreciate the view of the lovely pink sky over the farm before going inside. 

Over the next hour, you make yourself comfortable. You shower and change into comfy little knit shorts and tank top, what you use as pajamas, and help yourself to some snacks in the kitchen before curling up in front of their surprisingly impressive tv to watch a movie. Being Halloween night, most channels are having horror movie marathons, so you settle on part eight of a random horror franchise. It’s a movie you saw when you were a teenager, but you’ve forgotten most of the “plot” by now. 

Only twenty minutes into the film, you hear a knocking at the front door. Your first thought is that it’s your grandparents, but then you quickly remind yourself that they wouldn’t knock on their own door. So who could it be? Trick or treaters? Possible, but this house is practically in the middle of nowhere. Maybe your grandparents are known for giving out great candy? If so, these kids are going to be disappointed. 

You grab the Little Debbie cake and small bag of chips you’d laid out for yourself and head to the door. When you open it, no one is there. You sit the snacks on a nearby table and step out onto the porch. 

“Hello?” you ask, rubbing your bare arms with your hands. You didn’t realize the nights were so chilly here in the fall. The porch light is glowing bright yellow above your head, and you get the distinct impression that someone is looking at you, watching you. It suddenly feels like you’re under a spotlight as you gaze out over the inky black darkness of the farm, only broken up by a couple of lights situated near the tool shed and the garage. 

Mildly creeped out, you hurry back inside, making sure to lock the door. 

You return to the movie, having apparently not missed much. As the minutes pass by, you begin to relax again, figuring you were probably just mistaken when you thought you heard the knocking. This is an old house that you’re not overly familiar with. Of course it’s going to make creepy sounds occasionally. 

Just as your eyes begin to slide closed, drowsiness overtaking you, the knocking comes again. This time louder, more frantic. You practically jump off the couch in alarm. You stand there for a moment, listening, your heart beating wildly. This is not your imagination. This is definitely not just the sounds of an old house settling. This is literal banging! And it won’t stop. 

You mind races. Could this be trick or treaters? Doubtful. The banging certainly doesn’t sound like it’s coming from children. A Halloween prank then? Perhaps some local teens spotted your car in the driveway and decided to have a little fun with you? 

As the banging intensifies, you can’t help considering the darker possibilities. Maybe someone had planned to break into your grandparents’ house while they were away and now you’re just an unexpected obstacle they would have to deal with. Or maybe it’s a serial killer on the prowl? Or hell, maybe the house is fucking haunted. 

You slowly step closer to the door, and when you’re just a few feet away, you scream out, “What do you want?”

The banging immediately stops. You stare at the door, disappointed that it’s an old wooden type that has no peephole or windows. You don’t hear a response. You don’t hear anything. No voices, no footsteps walking off the creaky wooden porch. So are they still there? Just waiting on the other side of the door? 

“I have a gun!” you shout. “If you try to come inside, I’ll blow your fucking brains out! I don’t care who you are!”

You listen for any sort of reaction, but hear nothing. You creep closer to the door, trying to hear footsteps, hoping to hear them leaving. Just as you get close enough to press your ear to the door, something on the other side bangs against it loudly, making the wood tremble on the hinges. You scream and leap back. 

That’s it. You’re not putting up with this any longer! You run over to the landline phone in the kitchen and pick it up to call the police, but to your horror, there’s no dial tone. You check two more phones in the house, but get the same results. Did the person outside cut the phone line? Or had your grandparents been off traveling for so long that they didn’t bother paying their phone bill? Either way, you’re fucked. 

You check your cell phone just in case, hoping for a miracle, but there’s no service. 

Suddenly you remember something, more of that story the kids told you all those years ago. Something happens every year on Halloween night, that’s what they said. But what was it? You try to force yourself to remember the rest, but you just can’t. Anyway, it was just a dumb kids’ story. You have more important things to deal with, like the banging on the front door that just won’t stop. 

All you want to do is run to your car and drive away from here, but you’re too scared to go outside. Also, you’re parked close to the front porch, which is exactly where the threat is. 

“Go away!” you scream through the door. “I called the police! They’ll be here any minute!”

The banging suddenly stops again. Did your bluff work? You creep closer to the door again, cautiously. Then you hear it, the sound of footsteps! The porch floorboards creak and groan as someone makes their way across it, slowly and steadily. Then it sounds like they’re going down the steps. 

You run to the living room and try to peep out the window without being seen, but you only catch a quick glimpse of a shadow going around the corner of the house, toward the back. 

Is the back door locked? You never checked it after you got here, but surely your grandparents left it locked. Then again, this was exactly the sort of place where people would feel safe leaving their doors unlocked. 

You make a mad dash for the back door, running through the living room, kitchen, and laundry room to find the brown wooden door. 

It’s unlocked! 

Just as you reach for it, there’s a sudden banging on the wood, making you jump back in terror. You’re too late! You back away from the door, waiting for it to open and reveal some dangerous figure ready to kill you. 

But it doesn’t open. The knob never even turns. Are they not even going to check to see if it’s locked? The banging stops then, and is replaced by another sound. Scraping. Like metal on wood. Like a blade scratching the door. 

What the hell is going on?! If they’re not coming in, are they actually just trying to terrify you? Is it a Halloween prank after all? Or is it a killer who just wants to toy with you for a while first? The fact that they’re still here after your bluffs about the gun and the police suggests they aren’t just pranksters. 

But… something else occurs to you. If they’re back here, then they’re not on the front porch. Which means you could possibly make it to your car! There’s a risk involved. If there’s more than one person out there, one of them could be waiting to ambush you. Or the person could run around to the front before you make it to your car. But the risk of  staying put is even greater. Whoever is out there could come in at any moment. Even if the back door was locked, there were several windows that could easily be broken and climbed through. 

With no time to give it any more thought, you make a split decision. You dash through the kitchen, grabbing a knife from the wooden knife block on the counter as you go, then to the living room where you grab your keys and your phone. You cram the phone into your bra, having no pockets in the tiny, thin pajama shorts you’re wearing, then you unlock the front door and fling it open. 

Thankfully, there’s no one on the other side, and no one on the porch when you step outside. With the coast clear, you run straight for your car and throw yourself into the driver’s seat. You stick the keys in the ignition, still clutching the knife in one trembling hand. You turn the key, and you hear the engine begin to start, and then… nothing. It dies. You turn the key again, but the car still won’t start. You try several more times, growing more panicked and frantic with each attempt. Screaming in frustration and slapping the steering wheel, you accidentally cut your own hand with the knife. 

“Shit!” You wipe the blood off on your white tank top and jump out of the car, popping the hood at the same time. You know nothing about cars, but you feel like you should check anyway. When you look under the hood, you feel your stomach drop to your feet. 

The engine is completely demolished. It looks like someone took a large blunt object and just… wrecked it. Destroyed it. You close the hood and look toward the house. Do you have time to make it back inside and lock the front door? What if the person outside the back door finally tried to open it and is now hiding in the house? 

While you’re still debating with yourself on what to do, you see movement coming from the side of the house. Someone is coming! You want to see who it is, but you don’t want to be discovered out here. You had the good sense to shut the front door, so it might take them a while to realize you’re no longer in there. 

You dart into the cornfield, using it as cover. You try to look through the stalks, but you can’t see the person clearly. You can only make out what looks like a red shirt, and some sort of long, shiny weapon. 

Suddenly you remember that your phone got a couple bars of service earlier today when you were close to the end of the field, near Tomura. Deciding this is your best shot at getting help, you run through the corn as fast as you can. 

It takes several minutes for you to reach the end of the field, and you’ve already got your phone out, checking for bars, staring at the brightly lit screen in the darkness. When you reach Tomura, you’re focused on your phone, but there’s still no service. When you finally glance up, you realize something is wrong. You step back and tilt your phone up, using its light to see. 

The stake is empty. Tomura, the scarecrow, is gone. 

The confusion is so strong that it briefly overrides your fear. Did someone steal him? For what purpose? 

And then, like puzzle pieces fitting together, you remember the rest of the story those kids told you so long ago. 

“Every year, on Halloween night, Tomura comes back to life. He climbs down from his stake and stalks the farm, killing everyone he finds!”

You stare at the empty stake, trying to convince yourself that it was just a story, that someone is pulling a very elaborate prank on you. But somehow, in that moment, you know the truth. You sense it. Tomura had been outside those doors. Tomura had destroyed your car. And Tomura was going to kill you. 

The vibration of your phone startles you, causing you to yelp in fear. You look at the screen one bar! Praying it’s enough, you quickly begin dialing 911, but the bar disappears before you can finish. 

“No!” you hiss at your phone, trying to walk around to different spots to get more service. 

You’re so focused on the phone again that you bump into something in the darkness. You freeze, swallowing and slowly turning the phone’s screen around to illuminate what your body is currently pressed against. 

A red and black flannel shirt. You scream and jump back, realizing that Tomura is right in front of you, narrowly avoiding the blade of an enormous reef hook that he’s swinging at you. In the chaos and the dark, you don’t see his face clearly, but you know it’s him. He swings the reef hook again, then a third time, each time barely missing you as you shriek and dodge. 

“Please stop, Tomura!” you cry, still holding the knife in your hand but unable to get close enough to use it. 

He freezes mid swing, the weapon held high above his head. The shiny metal blade seems to quiver for a moment as you scramble to back away, but then he swings it down. You try to jerk out of the way, but it swipes your shoulder, severing the strap of your tank top and leaving a thin, bloody slice in your skin. You cry out in pain and clutch the wound. It’s not very deep, but it hurts, and blood is leaking out around your fingers. 

Again, Tomura seems to freeze in place. This time you manage to run back into the cornfield, turning off your phone so the light doesn’t give you away. You run and run, not even sure which direction you’re going in. Are you going back to the house? Or somewhere else? Where even is the nearest neighbor? 

When you finally break free of the corn, you find yourself in front of the old barn. It hadn’t been used in years even when you used to visit as a child, so you’d often played in it. You remember being scolded for climbing into the hayloft. With precious few options, you decide to try hiding inside it. 

The barn smells a bit musty, but not too bad otherwise. Your grandparents were sticklers for maintenance, even on old buildings they no longer used. You find a corner, behind some hay stacks, and hide there, trying to be as silent as possible. 

If the story those kids told you is true, and it’s certainly looking that way at this point, then Tomura only has Halloween night to roam about. So when morning comes, he’ll have to return to the stake. You look at your phone. It’s not quite ten yet! You don’t know if you’ll be able to evade Tomura until sunrise. 

Sitting here hiding, you finally have a moment to think about what’s happening. Tomura is alive. He’s a scarecrow, but he’s alive! But his body didn’t feel like straw when you bumped into him in the cornfield just now. It felt more solid than that. Almost like a real human body. 

Regardless, he is trying to kill you, and that thought pains you even more than it scares you. Why is he doing this? You’ve always felt a connection to him, an affection for him. Did he hate you all along? Or does he simply kill whoever he sees on Halloween night, no matter who they are? Maybe he doesn’t even recognize you. Maybe he doesn’t even have an actual consciousness, but is just a killing machine. Every possibility seems sadder than the last. 

Your thoughts are interrupted when you hear the door to the barn swing open. You clamp your hand over your mouth to muffle your breathing, and try to sink closer to the ground, to blend in with the darkness and the hay. 

You hear footsteps walking through the barn, stacks of hay being tossed aside. He’s searching for you! This is a bad idea. You need to get out of the barn, try to get to another house, maybe even flag someone down on the road. Before he gets any closer, you jump out of your hiding spot and run toward the back door of the barn. He sees you, of course, and you hear the footsteps running behind you. But you’re close to the door. You can make it! You can disappear into the cornfield again and-

It’s locked. Just as you reach the back door of the barn, you realize it’s locked up with a chain and padlock. You let out a frustrated whine and turn around just as the reef hook swings toward you. Ducking to avoid it, you run to the side, where you find a ladder to the hayloft. You know climbing up there is a terrible idea, that you’ll just be trapped up there, but at the moment, it’s the only path open to you. Maybe you’ll get lucky and be able to push him off the edge. 

So you climb, and you feel a strangely warm hand grab at your bare thigh. That’s definitely not straw! You jerk away, shaking off his grip as you climb further up, finally reaching the hayloft and then backing away from the ladder, watching him climb up after you, his weapon’s handle stuck in the waistband of his jeans. 

Once he’s up here with you, he walks slowly toward you, and when he steps into a beam of moonlight shining in through a small window in the barn, you finally see his face. 

Oh. He’s not a scarecrow at all. Not anymore. Standing before you is a totally alive human man. Young, early twenties you’d guess, with long silver hair that looks almost blue in the moonlight. He’s pale, with a few small but noticeable scars on his face, and striking red eyes that are staring at you as he gets closer. 

He’s beautiful. He’s everything you imagined all those years ago, when you dreamed of him being a “real boy”. 

You back away, almost in a daze, and end up tripping on some hay and falling to the floor. You manage to get to your knees, but by this point he’s reached you, looming over you with his weapon gripped in both hands. You’re a mess at this point. There’s blood all over your tank top, cuts on your hand and your shoulder that are still bleeding, one strap of your top sliced through and hanging low, almost exposing your breast, your shorts ripped. 

You look up at him, knowing there’s no escape, deciding to at least die seeing your precious Tomura alive and real. He lifts the reef hook over his head, still staring down at you, and all you can say is one word. 

“Tomura…”

He falters. The reef hook trembles in his grip. “Why are you here?!” he screams, his voice strained, his face twisting in pain. “Why would you come here, tonight of all nights?! Any other day… any other night… and I would have been so happy to see you…”

“What are you talking about?” you ask, totally confused. 

He growls in frustration, the weapon still shaking in his hands. You get to your feet. The knife from the kitchen is still in your hand. Right now, you could stab him. You’re close enough. But that’s not what you want to do. Instead, you do the one thing you’ve always wanted to do, since you were a little girl. 

You hug him. 

The weapon slips from his hands and lands with a dull thud on the hay strewn floor as you hear him make a faint gasping sound. 

“Please talk to me, Tomura,” you say. “I can finally hear your voice. So please just tell me what’s going on.”

“It’s Halloween night!” he yells, his arms dropping to his sides, not touching you. “Don’t you know? It’s the one night a year my body is restored! And I… I can’t control myself… all I can feel is rage and hate and… I just want to kill, to destroy… that’s the only way I can feel alive!”

He stops for a moment, and you can hear him breathing, feel his heart beating in his chest. He truly is alive! 

“Every year, your grandparents leave the farm on Halloween,” he says, his voice a bit calmer now. “I haven’t killed anyone in years, and all this bloodlust I feel has been building and building… and then you show up. You! The one person I never wanted to hurt!”

You look up at him. “You recognize me?” 

“Of course I do! For years you were the only person who talked to me! I knew you the moment you came to see me today in the field, even if you’re grown up now.”

His red eyes seem to sweep down over your figure, and you feel heat in your face. “Wait… does that mean you’re conscious when you’re a scarecrow?”

“Yeah. I’m aware of everything that goes on around me.”

Now you’re really embarrassed. All that time you were talking to him, he really was listening! But you can’t dwell on it for long. He pushes you away from him suddenly. 

“You need to run. Get off the property. Or get inside the main house. I’m not allowed to go inside it.”

You shake your head. “No, Tomura, I don’t want to leave you out here. I dreamed of you being real, being alive, all my life. I want to stay with you!”

His beautiful face looks anguished. “I don’t know how long I can keep myself from attacking you! Every inch of my body is screaming to hurt you, to do anything to feel alive!”

You step closer to him again. You thought you felt something when you hugged him before, but you want to be sure. You press yourself against him, and sure enough, you can feel that he’s hard, his erection straining against his pants. You reach down one hand and lightly rub over it. His breath hitches as his eyes widen. 

“Maybe there’s another way you can feel alive,” you tell him. 

A faint blush spreads over his face. “Is that… something you want?” 

You nod. “Do you want it too?”

Without a word, he suddenly kisses you, finally wrapping his arms around you for the first time as his lips press to yours. You breathe out a sigh against his mouth, content to be held by him. 

Then his hands are moving over you, a bit clumsily, tugging at your tank top, trying to pull it up. You laugh as you pull back from him. “Have you ever done this before? I mean, before you…”

“Before I died?” he asks, looking a little shy. “Yeah, a few times. It’s been about a hundred years though.”

You slip your tank top off and unhook your bra, letting it fall to the floor while he stares with wide eyes. “It’s okay,” you say as you wrap your arms around his neck, “I’m sure it’ll all come back to you.”

He smiles then, his warm hands sliding down your bare back, stopping to squeeze your ass through your shorts. You kiss him again, this time more deeply, your tongue in his mouth, and then your hands fly to the buttons of his flannel shirt, undoing them as quickly as you can. When he lets you pull his shirt off his shoulders, your eyes rake over his toned body appreciatively. In life, he was a farm boy, and it shows. 

His fingers hook into the waistband of your shorts and panties, pulling them both down in one go. You step out of them, then unbutton his jeans. Before you can slide them down his hips, he’s pushing you gently down into the hay, on your back, and climbing on top of you. 

You’d been chilly before, but now your whole body feels hot as his half-clothed body grinds against yours, his mouth warm on your neck. One of his hands is gripping your thigh, pulling it up beside him and making it easier for him to position himself between your legs. 

His mouth moves down from your neck to your chest, his lips enclosing over one nipple, his tongue darting out to flick it. You moan, your hands in his soft hair. When he slides one hand down to stroke the wet, hot flesh between your thighs, your back arches automatically, your body smashing against his. 

You can’t wait any longer. You shove his pants down to his knees, not entirely surprised that he’s not wearing underwear. He was a scarecrow until a few hours ago after all. Even though you know he’s a living breathing human right now, you’re still relieved to see that he has all his parts and they’re in working order. 

He begins kissing you again, and when his hand brushes over your shoulder, it grazes your wound, making you wince. He draws back, looking at the cut. “I’m sorry,” he says, sounding hurt, “I was so confused. I wanted to kill you, but at the same time I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. So I held back, and I hesitated.”

“I’m glad you did,” you say, raising up to kiss him again. “You could’ve taken my head off if you hadn’t held back.”

“I could never…” he murmurs, moving himself against you, rubbing his warm body across your form. You open your legs, giving him easy access, closing your eyes with a moan. 

“Tomura… I want you inside me…”

His breathing gets faster, more ragged, as he gets into position, then he gently pushes inside you, slowly filling you up. His mouth finds yours as he slides all the way in, and then begins thrusting into you, carefully at first before picking up speed. When you respond with moans and cries of his name, your arms tight around his neck, he begins thrusting more deeply, more roughly, using your reactions to judge how you want him to move. 

He fucks you so well, his body must have remembered exactly how it was done. He’s good, good enough to make you tremble in his arms, clutching him with all your strength as you cum on his cock. 

You wrap your legs around him just to steady yourself as he fucks you through your orgasm, and he kisses you, groaning into your mouth as he cums deeply inside you. 

The next few hours are precious to you, because you know he’ll go back to being a scarecrow when morning comes. You feel like Cinderella enjoying her last few minutes at the ball. 

The two of you sit in the hayloft together, you snuggled up in his flannel shirt, and talk. He tells you about his life before, what really happened to him and his family. His father really had strung him up in the field as punishment, and Tomura really had returned to life one year later and killed his whole family. Aside from his older sister, who had married and moved away from the farm before his death. He seems happy that she was spared, and regretful about killing his mother and grandparents, even though the rage was at its strongest that year. 

He doesn’t know why he comes back to life every year, what sort of magic or curse restores his body and drives him to kill. But the biggest surprise is that your grandparents know about him. 

“They’re nice. I like them,” he says. “They’re a little scared of me, I think. They tend to stay away from me even when it’s not Halloween. But they put new clothes on me when mine get worn out and they even throw a tarp on me when it’s raining real hard.”

The fact that your grandparents take care of a cursed scarecrow makes you smile. But then a thought occurs to you. “Has anyone tried to destroy you?”

He laughs. It’s the first time you’ve heard it but you like the sound of it. “Some have tried over the years,” he says, “but even when someone burned me up in a fire, a few hours later I was back on my stake like nothing happened.”

Happy to know he’s indestructible, you lean your head on his shoulder as the last bit of time you have together slips by. When the sky begins to lighten outside, the two of you walk into the cornfield and to his stake, hand in hand. When you reach it, you pull off his shirt and help him put it back on before he climbs onto the stake and holds his arms up to the wooden frame.

For a moment, you just watch, but then you climb up onto the stake with him and give him one more kiss. “I’ll come back to see you, I promise,” you tell him. 

“I’ll be waiting,” he says back, and then his head droops as rays of sunshine spread across the farm. In an instant, he’s no longer flesh and blood but made of straw. You hug his now thin body before climbing down from the stake. 

****************

It’s Halloween night, one year later, when you park your new car close to your grandparents’ farm house. They’re gone, of course, and despite their misgivings about you being there on Halloween night, they ultimately agreed to let you stay there. 

You’ve been back to the farm several times over this past year just to visit Tomura and talk to him. But today is special. In just a couple of hours, he would come to life and be able to speak to you, touch you, hold you. 

You walk through the field until you reach Tomura. Knowing now that he can hear and see you, a smile spreads over your lips. 

“I’m back, Tomura. I’m really excited about tonight. You are too, right?” you ask, standing at a perfect distance for him to see the cute outfit you wore just for him. You reach down and take hold of the hem of your flowy skirt, then slide the fabric up your thighs, revealing your black lace panties. 

You know it must be your imagination, but you could swear his red stone “eyes” are shining. You laugh and drop your skirt back down. “Just a little preview of what’s waiting for you in the barn tonight,” you say, giving him a sensuous smile before walking back into the field. As you disappear into the corn, you call out, “Happy Halloween, Tomura!”

#shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki smut #shigaraki #lovhalloweenhorror #shigaraki x you

[nicherayyy]

Tomorrow is Halloween, so I'd like to see something themed about that, sorry that I'm asking for it only now! How about "Child Reader Celebrates Halloween with La Squadra"? Can we see Sorbet and Gelato too?

That's literally adorable!! I can't celebrate halloween this year because of the uni assignments so request like that just warms my heart😭

La Squadra x Child Reader Celebrating Halloween🎃

First of all I'm not sure that La Squadra will be a huge fan of Halloween

But for you? Everything

Although I believe some of them celebrated this holiday long before you joined them

*cough* Melone *cough* Formaggio

So what costume each of them would get??

I definitely see Melone in a doctor costume, not a sexualised version but more like a full equipped surgeon or smthn

Ghiaccio would wear a Frankenstein costume, I won't elaborate

Sorbet and Gelato are matching!! Definitely Bonnie and Clyde (they wear it like every year cuz they're to lazy to think of anything else)

Formaggio would wear something "embarrassing", as Illuso likes to call it. Like those weird alien costumes

Yeah, that one

Pesci adores Halloween so let me tell you his costumes are amazing!! I believe he's tailoring them himself

This year he chose a Scarecrow from the Wizard of Oz

He begged Prosciutto to match with him but he declined :(

Pros is old schooled so he wears a God Father costume and calls it a day

Illuso is a vampire

And believe me, he spent a whole hour in front of the mirror to look fabulous

His costume is the second best (Pesci's still looks better)

Risotto is the laziest of them all

He just wears a Ghostface mask he bough a few years ago

But he still looks cool in it

Your costume is still the best!! Pesci spent a lot of time sewing it and he did an amazing job

So I'm not lying when I tell that you'll have the best costume in Italy

Risotto is the one who goes trick or treating with you

He takes a lot of photos of you to put them in his wallet afterwards (and some of them in the shared La Squadra's photo album)

You'll have the whole basket of candies in less than 40 minutes

You definitely should be proud of yourself

Unfortunately you won't be able to eat all of them in one sitting because of Prosciutto, I'm sorry😔

He just hides the basket on top of the fridge so you won't get them

Illuso still gets you them when no one's watching, so you'll be fine

La Squadra definitely won't go crazy with decorations, but a few carved pumpkins are still necessary

Sorbet and Gelato helped you to carve one of them

It was the neatest of them all

Be prepared for a horror movie night

Not the "Hereditary" type, but "The Nightmare Before Christmas" type

So yall spent solid 4 hours watching the Halloween classic

Formaggio tried to scare you a few times but got some dirty looks from the team

Of course he retrieved

You end up falling asleep on the couch

But don't worry, someone will carry you to your bed

#jjba x reader #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jojo bizarre adventure #la squadra x reader #la squadra esecuzioni #la squadra #la squadra di esecuzione #prosciutto x reader #illuso x reader #risotto nero x reader #formaggio x reader #melone x reader #sorlato x reader #la squadra jjba #sorbet x gelato #pesci x reader #ghiaccio x reader #child reader #jjba platonic #platonic #jojos bizarre adventure #jojo #jjba 5 #jjba x you #jjba x y/n #halloween

[bts5sosempire]

the tyrant (iii)

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠:  sukuna ryomen x reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 2,859

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭:  arrange marriage, mention of infertility, polygamous marriage, slow-burn yandere, usage of drug usage (nothing harmful), power imbalance, Sussykuna

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲:  "you were the apple of Sukuna's eyes, the one who brought him solace and everything. The only thing you were incapable of was giving him a child, an heir he wished to spoil like he did to you."

𝐚/𝐧: I have come back with a bearing gift. I intentionally had made this chapter shorter for a purpose reason. Gonna add more drama in the next too, gotta add a lot of spices to reader's life. Please comment down below in the "comments" for tagging, it would be easier amd help me to see who wants to be tagged since if I'm asked in dms or inbox, I might forget.

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Sukuna wasn't a man who was easily disturbed, but his temper was somewhat one thing that could be tampered with if you knew how to strike it right. Like a hot iron, you cross it every time, but he wondered how long you would keep up your farce before the metal of his patience broke in half. Sukuna knows your dissatisfaction with him, but your life lies with him no matter what. His affection and favoritism keep you alive in his harem; without them, you would be a piece of meat for the awaiting dogs to rip apart.

The man trusts you no matter what you do, despite having eyes and ears everywhere. But the ongoing whispers he heard in brief passing about you taking a second lover or having a secret infidelity with Yuichi from the concubines stir a little sore spot. Although he knew rumors are rumors with no backing on concrete evidence, it was bound to be a fraudulent use. Unless they dare to tamper by advocating a lie to slander your name and shame the ground you walk on, he might raise a hand to hush those loose lips. Sukuna may have power above all else, but controlling the central harem wasn't his job since the mother figurehead he had married was supposed to manage while he dealt with politics. Two different businesses shouldn't be mixed until he needs to get involved.

“Lord Sukuna,” Uraume appears in the room and shuts the door quietly behind them. “Everything is done per your instructions.” Sukuna lets out a hum of approval and carelessly tosses a thick packet of papers onto the table as it makes a slap. Sukuna almost forgot about the bandits that had hurt you and attempted to rob his people; he made good use of making an example out of them. Upon his will, he had ordered them to be lacerated in minor cuts every five minutes to allow them to bleed to death slowly before using their corpses as scarecrows while impaled by pikestaffs and placing them under the sweltering summer sun. Within hours the corpses will start to rot and smell. Sukuna purposely set them out his city gates, along the pathway, to warn any potential fool(s) who comes under the guise of a humble person will have the same fate as them. For the leader, Sukuna didn't outright kill him; it would be merciful; he had become nothing but a drug and poison tester. It didn't take long for his mind to be wiped away with a few different doses of drugs and poisons, and Sukuna had instructed him to be alive as possible. If the man were to die, let him enjoy thinking about having his life taken away until it is almost snuffed out, only to be brought back again as he goes through the ordeal again.

Sukuna: “Anything else to report?”

Uraume: “Besides the prisoners, I've sent out formal invitations in advance to other Lords and all the ladies' families for the Fall Festival. Should I inform Lady Eisha to prepare materials in advance too?”

“Sure.” Sukuna then dismisses his subordinate with a single wave of his hand, “Bring me the doctor before you go; I have a lot of things to discuss with him.”

Eisha was sitting in the courtyard, surrounded by a few concubines. While chatting amongst themselves and giggling with one another, all were enjoying snacks and drinks from wonders of the world. Sometimes moments like this were fleeting for her as a figurehead.

“I fear that this child might be keeping me up all night,” Lady Kiko said, caressing the bump protruding through her expensive silk kimono just below the obi. Eisha eyes the concubine growing belly with subtle green envy that contains the life she wished she had, only being blessed with a daughter; she hopes for a boy desperately to maintain her symbol and the power in the harem. Even if she were to be absolute, it's uncertain; as a woman, her livelihood always depends on the children she brought into the world. Eisha's title could always be stripped away unceremoniously.

“Do take care of yourself and the child's health; any blessing from Lord Sukuna is a blessing to us all,” Eisha spoke as a true sage while gracing Lady Kiko with an unharmed smile that she would use for others. Eisha can not let them doubt her in the harem; as long as she converts people to her cause and side, she shouldn't be worried about using her family image all the time as a backer. Using other people for her dirty work was always a tactic taught or learned through years of hardship.

“But speaking of Lord Sukuna,” one of the concubines gave a side disdain look to another who returned the sentiment, “he hasn't been visiting us lately. More or less, he has been with her, and we rarely got time to spend with him anymore.” There was an agreement of murmur around the table. Eisha observed the mood and saw all the concubines were low-spirited about you being favored, as always. You were constantly the center of gossip regarding the harem matter. It was nothing new, but the growing jealousy increased as time passed, no matter how much they tried to dissuade or separate you from Sukuna; that just made the man hold onto you tighter than ever.

It was tiring to see Eisha admit, but she was patient.

Eisha: “Enough about this matter regarding her. Lord Sukuna will come to us when it's time again.”

Lady Natsuki: “You're right; we won't discuss this anymore. But I'm excited for you, Your Lady, since the Fall Festival is coming around again; you had impeccable taste and set for decorations and hosting.”

There was a chorus of agreement and singing praises.

“Enough with the sweet words; everyone is excused.” Eisha presents a fake bashful smile at the concubine, who is trying to flatter her. With a wave of her hand, all the concubines stood up and did a courtesy bow. Eisha stands up but feels faint when she sees doubles of each harem woman's back. She doubles over at the table, knocking down a porcelain cup that shatters against the ground. “Your Lady!” Eisha's lady-in-waiting came to her side immediately. The women currently leaving turned around and found Eisha on the floor in a daze and unfocused as they all rushed back to her side. There was a bead of sweat rolling down the side of Eisha's temple as she felt her body going numb and growing colder. A slight pain attacks her abdomen.

“Someone, go get the physician now!” Lady Enya roared out at the nearby servants, who scampered immediately to find help.

“B-Blood! Her Lady nose is bleeding!” Lady Natsuki shouts in panic as she ushers her handkerchief under Eisha's nostril.

A while later...

Eisha sat in her chamber as the doctor took her pulse. They gave her acupuncture to return her body to its normal state, but it wasn't easy. “I did what I could, Your Grace,” there was a slight hesitation and a strange look from the physician as they weren't sure if it was right to look at her in the eyes.

Eisha: “Go on.”

The physician took his hand back, “It seems that you have rushed yourself in haste and destroyed your foundation. Your body couldn't keep up with all the tonics and remedies you've been taking, thus forcing your body to produce too much blood to go in the same area.” There was a slight pause. “I fear this might render you nearly infertile.”

Like cold water poured over Eisha, she felt her heart drop, and her body experienced nervous hot and cold flashes. She felt like the world had crashed around her orbit and was going against her. The future child she had always wished she had was flying so far away from Eisha; the road to her dream suddenly became narrow, longer, and darker. But she didn't want to give it up.

Eisha: “Is there anything you can do?”

The doctor was once again silent, carefully threading his words. “I can, but you must stop taking what you have been ingesting. Not only are you experiencing low body heat, but the slightest chill could also render you ill and potentially decline your health. So avoiding anything cold is best; keep anything warm close by.”

Eisha: “You also said I'm not nearly fertile, too; what do you mean by that?”

“Your Lady, I mean that if you were to try to get pregnant this instant, it would be slim and deadly. Your body isn't suited for childbearing due to low heat and blood levels. Not to mention you told me about searing flashes and sharp pain in your abdomen; it might be possible that there are scars in your womb which would make implantation impossible, but on another note, even if you were able to get pregnant and conceive a child, the possibility of carrying them to full-term is also low since your body will fight against it and the chances along with miscarriage to you hemorrhaging and bleeding out is high too.” The physician's words were nothing but advice to Eisha, who felt herself turning deaf.

You were roaming the halls after a short visitation from your outing. Up ahead, you notice the turf of pink hair and quickly halt your steps. Making a turn to another hallway to delay your road longer, but it was futile as Sukuna saw the waves of your simple but colorful kimono and followed suit.

“You're so eager to get away from me.” Sukuna sneered, but there was an underlying affection hidden in his words, as always. “Are you done with your little game? I would like for that poor doctor to reevaluate you again.”

You were slightly annoyed at his persistence in chasing you every time you appeared in his view. “It's always the same result; when will you stop?” Sniding back at Sukuna, he intercepts himself between you and Yumi with a few long strides. He took you by the arm and opened one empty room, and shoved you inside while closing the door with a snap right behind him. Yumi calls for you outside, but not loud enough to alert other people.

You: “What are you-”

Sukuna inches close to you, only a mere inch apart. “I've been patient,” Sukuna's eyes glower. His voice was above a whisper; you tried to keep your posture straight and face calm. It was rare for his reaction to change; you know he won't harm you...but what are the chances when you keep pushing him away? You can't falter no matter what; you weren't taught to cower away, but the hammering of your heart keeps resounding in your ears like drums.

“I never told you to do anything for me,” scowling at Sukuna, whose face hardens at your words. It's always like this; you deny him any chances of gaining affection from you, and he who tried to be patient still cuts every road short in hopes of reaching your heart faster. “When will you understand that we are just husband and wife in name and title, not a married couple?”

If Sukuna could clench his jaws and grind his teeth harder, they would've shattered upon compression. “We are husband and wife.” Sukuna started. You can't help but think no matter how much you tried to change his cognitive function of you, it just backfired by his stubbornness. “If the world knows how much I worship you, they wouldn't think we are just a name and title; we would be considered revere in the eyes of the public.”

There we go. That's it.

“You see, everything you do isn't for me; it's for you,” without shame, you start to nitpick everything that seems wrong with this whole ordeal since you married this pink hair fool. Holding back your tongue was already hard enough, but lashing it out was more accessible, it seemed. “Everything here feels like a transaction; therefore, in conclusion, we do not love each other.”

Your words seem to be taking effect on Sukuna as there was a glow of danger looming and his pupils growing into slits. “Do not say that I don't love you. What man will go back and forth for you? I've given you everything, and it never makes you happy. Or is there someone before me that you still love all these years, and that's why you keep rejecting me?”

A thin line appears on your lips. A few moments pass in silence, and Sukuna slowly inhales a breath thickly, feeling his body beginning to shudder in anger when the thought of you loving someone else that isn't him pinched the back of his mind painfully. Then he slowly exhales a breath.

Something seems to snap in his mind, but he replies quickly as the anger washes away slowly, although not completely. “I see.” Straightening his back, Sukuna stares down at you like a mere insect through his half-lidded eyes.

For some reason, Sukuna's two-word scares you. The look in his eyes didn't die; the hard truth was a hard pill for him to swallow. Even if he were to remain calm, unpredictability was something that he was always capable of, no matter what. You know how to hide your mind with practice and put on a fake facade, but Sukuna could do it with mitigation like it was second nature to him.

Sukuna took a step away from your stature, then another with his back turned out this time, and opened the door with a quick motion. The door slide hits the other side with a loud clack that spooks Yumi whose shoulders jump up in fright.

When Sukuna entirely disappears, and his footsteps can't be heard anymore, you only allow yourself to breathe freely when a part of your deception falters. Rubbing your eyes with your thumb and forefinger in agitation, you tell yourself to water down your anxious thoughts. Now it looks like you can't always rely on your aloofness and nonchalance to do all your work in warding off that damn demon. Sukuna is an intelligent man; you would be biting off too much if you think Sukuna isn't one to be wary of.

You already give leeway to him to have an advantage over you due to your stupidity and inability to answer.

“Mistress, are you alright?” Yumi appeared right by your side.

A long sigh overcame you, “I'm not even gonna bother sleeping here in the castle.”

Sukuna grabs a vase and tosses it against the wall. The ceramic shattered with such impact that its pieces flew everywhere in the room with his rage. His temper was flaring and coursing through his veins like lava. Sukuna could feel a gaping wound opening up inside his chest; the mere thought of someone else occupying his precious wife's mind and heart stirred his demons. Who is this particular person that could take away your attention? Sukuna thought about Yuichi but immediately dismissed the thought.

The inferiority complex starts to bite his ego; the last time Sukuna ever felt this way was when he was barely fifteen. His competitive side to win at everything and anything makes him ruthless; he's not above using undermining tactics and people and cutting them down whenever it suits him. Sukuna wants others to think that he's enough for them to take advantage of them later on. The false sense of security when someone finally lets their guard down and him eating them alive makes him feel humming; the look of betrayal and disbelief fueled his ego and sadism.

“Uraume,” Sukuna spoke out with a tone that sounded like a hush, but it sounded more like the acceptance of what he was about to do next. “Find anyone who had any relationship with Lady (Name). I want to know.”

The figure at the corner of the room now in respect after getting their order; before they leave, they tell Sukuna something. "Before I do, Lord Sukuna, Lady (Name) left the compound half an hour ago to stay at an inn."

"Let her go and keep a close eye," sure, he's angry, but you always remain in his mind. Your safety comes first before anybody else. Uraume half bow again then leaves for good this time. Now Sukuna is all alone, mulling inside his mind with stoic swimming across his gapes. Even if his eyes say nothing and a person who truly knows him or a portion of it could see how mirth lays underneath those red orbs.

Sukuna sits down on the floor mat with a slump and brushes a hand through his pink hair; he takes a shogi piece and places it on the board.

Now, what to do? He'll let you go and cool down while he does the same. Sukuna isn't one to idle around for long, though; as soon as a solution comes up, he executes it perfectly. He's an extraordinarily detail-oriented man. It won't take long for him to make you comply by force this time.

Taglist: @sukunasobject @lilliansstuff @lucyrocks86 @ladywolf44005 @watyousayin @sandronebabyy @pinkrose1422 @skepticalleo @please-help-therapy-needed @whatsonthemirror @krispsprite @loser-alert @saturnknows @samidrc @littlemochi @akigoat @mxghostbee @rose4958

#fan fiction #jujutsu kaisen #masterlist #jjk sukuna #jjk x reader #anime #sukuna ryomen #jjk fanfic #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna #yandere imagines #yandere fanfiction #yandere fic #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere sukuna #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #yandere sukuna ryomen #yandere sukuna x reader

[lazydoodlesandfanfic]

DC (EXCLUDING MAINLY BATMAN/FAM) MASTERLIST

*DISCLAIMER: SOME STORIES MAY BE TAGGED FOR WRONG DEMOGRAPHIC (ie, Not GN, male or fem) IF SO, PLEASE POLITELTY INFORM ME SO I CAN FIX IT

CLARK KENT/ SUPERMAN

A Kent And A Wayne (Clark Kent X Wayne!Male!Reader)

Effects Of The Toxin (Clark Kent X Wayne!Male!Reader)

DIANA PRINCE/ WONDERWOMAN

Motherly (Diane Prince X Teen!Reader)

Family Visit (Diana Prince X Daughter!Reader)

Snow Day (Diana Prince X Reader)

Washing Up (Diana Prince X Male!Reader)

BARRY ALLEN/ FLASH

Little Gifts (Barry Allen X Wayne!Reader)

Anyone But Him (Barry Allen X Wayne!Reader)

Another Speedster (Barry Allen X Reader)

The Wayne Mystery (Barry Allen X Fem!Reader)

Sorry!(Barry Allen X Fem!Reader)

Cancelled Plans (Barry Allen X Fem!Reader)

Please Stop (Barry Allen X Fem!Reader)

Actual Flirting (Barry Allen X Male!Reader)

Caught Red Handed (Barry Allen X Fem!Wayne!Reader)

How Did It Come To This? (Barry Allen X Sibling!Reader)

JUSTICE LEAGUE

Would You Kindly? (Justice League X Male!Reader)

Hidden Scars And Memories (Justice League X Male!Reader)

MULTIPLE

New Start (Roy Harper X Male!Reader X Jason Todd)

A Mostly Successful Mission (Jason Todd X Male!Reader X Roy Harper)

Keeping Secrets (Dick Grayson X Male!Reader X Wally West)

The Quiet Son (Bruce Wayne X Son!Reader X Justice League)

Father's Day (Bruce Wayne X Male!Reader X Clark Kent)

No More Joker (Harley Quinn X Fem!Reader X Poison Ivy)

City Siren's Daughter (Harley, Ivy & Selina X Daughter!Reader)

Nightmares (Harley Quinn X Daughter!Reader X Ivy)

Their Redemption (Harley Quinn X Daughter!Reader X Ivy)

One Of Us Hurt (Bruce Wayne X Male!Reader X Clark Kent)

VILLAINS

Penguin's Friend (Ed Nygma X Male!Reader)

Waiting For You (Jerome Valeska X Fem!Reader)

My Responsibility (Jonathan Crane X Fem!Reader)

There For Me (Harley Quinn X Batsis!Reader)

Never Going Back (Harley Quinn X Daughter!Reader)

We Could Be A Team (Deathstroke X Daughter!Reader)

Colleagues (Jonathan Crane X Fem!Reader) Pt 1/ Pt 2

OTHER

What Happened?! (Leonard Snart X Reader)

Close Your Eyes (Leonard Snart X Reader)

Nothing Else (Leonard Snart X Fem!Reader)

Secret Meetings (Leonard Snart X Fem!Reader)

We're Having A Baby? (Leonard Snart X Fem!Reader)

She's My Sister! (Leonard Snart X Fem!Reader)

I'm Not Letting You Go (Leonard Snart X Fem!Reader)

Future Child (Leonard Snart X Daughter!Reader)

Saving Up (Harrison Wells X Trans!Male!Reader)

Stubborn And Injured (Raven X Fem!Reader)

Not Fireproof (Raven X Reader)

Blues Music (Teen Titans X Reader)

A Little Help (Batman X Scarecrow) Pt 1 / Pt 2

Finally Married (Rip Hunter X Reader)

Cant' Wait (Mick Rory X Fem!Reader)

Sneaking Out (Mick Rory X Fem!Reader)

#Batman #Superman #Wonderwoman #flash #clark kent #diana prince #barry allen #justice league #teen titans #Harley Quinn #Poison Ivy #Catwoman

[elena-mayfair]

Fighting fear

Paring: Batman/Bruce Wayne x f!reader Genre: Thriller, mystery, with elements of slow-burn romance Warnings: rating T+/M, disturbing images, strong language, violence, depictions of illness, depictions of trauma, depictions of mental and physical abuse, lost of angst Summary: You wanted to close your eyes and disappear. Disappear forever. Push away the thoughts of the nightmare that was yet to come, dismiss the memories of the nightmares that were yet to haunt you, forget the deep blue eyes and the wandering barely perceptible smile you were destined never to see again, erase the feeling of safety and inspiration you were never meant to follow. You longed to escape. To disappear. To start all over again somewhere else. To become someone else. Word count: 18.2K Note: Some gifs are not mine, credit to the authors.

Series masterlist

***

For the past few months, Gotham citizens had been living their lives under the fear of a mysterious criminal who, through sophisticated psycho-control methods involving unidentified chemicals, had led to the deaths of twelve people and the suffering of at least another eight. Twenty people. You heard that right, twenty people fell victim to a madman who swore a vow to first do no harm. Can the people of Gotham finally live peacefully or is horror only about to come? This is Summer Gleeson, GCNN's news.

Doctor Jonathan Crane, head of the psychiatric ward at Eliot Memorial Hospital, has been identified as a criminal alias Scarecrow. Investigative reporter Vicky Vale is currently at the scene. Vicki, how dramatic is the situation?

The situation is truly horrific, Summer. I am currently outside the residential building where Doctor Jonathan Crane lived, and inside which the police have discovered a chemical laboratory, as well as eight more victims that Doctor Crane has been holding captive and torturing. Eight of Gotham's citizens, seven adults and a child had been imprisoned, subjected to physical and psychological torture, right in the center of one of Gotham's most secure neighborhood. The madman's victims were found in various physical states, ranging from mild to critical, which only suggests that Scarecrow had been committing these atrocities for a very long time. All victims are currently being transported to Gotham General Hospital. Among the victims was Matt Bower, known to police drug dealer working for mob boss Salvatore Maroni. Police and emergency services are currently working on securing the building to reduce the chemical hazard. Commissioner Gordon refused to comment, but we are all probably wondering what involvement Batman had in this discovery and where Scarecrow is now?

Thank you, Vicki. Where is Batman? And what connection does this gruesome discovery have to the late evening chase that ended with a shootout on the Metro-Narrows Bridge? Witnesses have reported that not only Batman but also his known associates, Nightwing and Red Hood, were involved. GCNN investigative reporter Jack Ryder is on the scene. Jack, how is the situation on the bridge?

Pretty typical for Gotham, Summer. Bridge is currently out of service and will be closed till midday as stated by the fire department. Scraps of a wrecked van, bullet shells, damaged pavement, nothing Gotham hasn't seen before. Three criminals, apprehended after a dramatic chase, were already handed over by Nightwing to the police, represented by Sergeant Rene Montoya, who declined to provide further explanation. Based on witness testimony, I was able to determine that the chase originated near Arkham Asylum and initially involved only Nightwing and Red Hood. Witnesses also informed that the criminals had a hostage, a woman, but her identity had not been established. Was the woman an accomplice or another victim? We will get to the truth. The people of Gotham deserve it.

Thank you, Jack. Despite the late night hours, we attempted to contact the Chief Executive Officer of Eliot Memorial Hospital who refused to comment. Shameful behavior in the light of current events. We do not know whether the Doctor's practices were known to him or not. However, we did receive a brief phone call from an Eliot Memorial Public Relations representative, who informed us that all ties between the hospital and Doctor Cran had been severed with immediate effect. But how much does this change in the eyes of ordinary residents?

Doctor Crane is the second medical expert in recent memory who, instead of protecting human lives as he swore to do, has chosen to cause harm. Most recently, Doctor Harleen Quinzel, a psychiatrist at Arkahm Asylum who is now widely known as Harley Quinn and associated with the Joker's criminal activities, is currently detained in the institution as a patient. She will face charges of attempted murder and armed assault. Unfortunately, Doctor Crane, or as we should be saying, Scarecrow is still at large. Was he involved in last Sunday's failed assault on the Gotham Medical Society? How long did his crimes go unnoticed? How long will it be before Batman manages to stop him?

"You shouldn't be watching this," Red Hood snatched the remote from your hand and turned off the TV, "enough of drama for one evening."

"Gotham's media works shockingly fast," you muttered then added quietly, "and I should, it's my fault."

"How is this any of your fault?"

You sat down heavily on the couch, threw the jacket off your shoulders, and accepted the glass of water he had handed you, quickly finding his way to the kitchen. Despite his commanding physique, two guns strapped to his belt, and face hidden under a red helmet and the hood, his presence filled you with a strange sense of safety. Still, within your apartment's four walls, the masked man somehow appeared incredibly surreal. You smiled amused, despite your weariness, as you watched him roam around your apartment.

"Something funny?" he glanced at you.

"I'd say make yourself comfortable, I'd offer you water or something hot to drink, but I don't think you'd take it," you scoffed, "can you even breathe under that helmet?"

"Outstandingly well!" he took off his jacket and removed his gauntlets, "you'll need something stronger than water." Not waiting for your permission, he once again headed to the kitchen and began looking through the cabinets and drawers. "You're not a tidy type, are you? I know someone who would get a heart attack seeing this mess."

"Relative tidiness. No one usually goes through my cabinets."

"There's always that first time," he sassed, "the first time to be caught in a shootout, the first time to be kidnapped, the first time to discover that your friend is a sociopath!"

"That's the second,"" you corrected him somberly.

"Damn, you're right! There is Harley Quinn! You don't have a good grasp on people, huh?"

"Thanks for reminding me."

"No problemo!"

"What are you looking for?" you followed him curiously as he went through cabinet after cabinet, and drawer after drawer.

"Your common sense," he quipped, "I was hoping you stored it somewhere."

"Very funny."

"But seriously, chill out. You're not the first and you won't be the last to get a knife between the ribs from so-called friends," he turned to you and although you couldn't see, you were convinced he was smiling under his helmet, "I need a clean towel."

"You're going to take a shower?" you put aside your glass to get up from the couch but your body refused to cooperate. The adrenaline that had kept you on high alert completely disappeared leaving you sore, drowsy and completely exhausted.

"Just tell me where," he placed his hand on your shoulder gently forcing you to sit back down.

"In the bedroom, in the dresser by the wall," you instructed, "right-hand cabinet, top shelf."

He nodded and disappeared into the bedroom only to return a moment later with two clean towels.

"Where do you keep booze?" he asked, folding one towel next to you.

"The cabinet next to the bookcase," you pointed to a corner of the living room, "you should find some whisky there."

"At least for alcohol you have good taste," he chuckled.

"It's not like I'm drinking a lot."

"You'll start."

"You sound like you want to tell me that shit like it's going to happen again!" you eyed him as he paced around your apartment collecting things one by one. A bottle of whiskey was placed on the table in front of you right next to a clean towel, followed a moment later by a clean glass which he filled with whisky.

"Somehow it's hard for me to imagine that you'll suddenly stop getting into shit, as you called it," he placed the sanitizer, lighter, needle, and thread in front of you, then returned to the kitchen, "trust me, I've seen it way too many times!" he chuckled as he rolled up his sleeves to wash his hands thoroughly.

"Stupidity?"

"That too," wiping his hands dry he returned to you, "but that's not what I meant. I was talking about that raging fire that burns in your eyes. Believe me, we've all seen it," he sat down beside you, "he's seen it too, more than once," he unfolded a towel on the table then placed a few cotton swabs on top of it and soak them in sanitizer. ""You blame yourself for what happened. You blame yourself for what happened to Quinn. You blame yourself for what Crane did to those people," he heated the threaded needle with a lighter then wiped it thoroughly with the cotton swab, "it won't leave you. It will haunt you and keep you up at night. It will feed that anger," he put down the needle, disinfected his hands and wiped the needle again, "anger at the world, at him, at yourself, at what happened to you, at the violence you experienced," he pointed to a glass of whiskey, "you will need this."

"I don't follow," fatigue slowed the mind, causing confusion.

"You have a fucking hole in your shoulder!" he pointed again to the glass, "drink up. It's gonna hurt like a bitch."

"Wow! Wow! Hold your horses mister!" you flung and moved away from him instantly, "it's just a small wound! It will heal on its own! There's no need to…"

"Shut up and let me patch you up!" he snapped at you, "you didn't want to go to the hospital then we'll take care of it my way! Damn, and here I was thinking that after tonight we have some trust between us."

"You said it yourself that I don't have a very good grasp on people."

"It's a little too late to change that," he snarled, "drink up and give me your arm."

"Have you done this before?"

"The charms of this job."

You downed the contents of the glass in one sip, closed your eyes, and stretched out your arm.

"Not so fast," he scoffed, "one more."

You did as he ordered. Ignoring the glass, you took a deep sip straight from the bottle, feeling the scorching liquid spread through your core. You took a deep breath, downed another and stretched out your arm again.

"Well, now that we've covered painkillers…" he knelt down in front of you and gripped your hand securely above the elbow immobilizing it. His strong hand steadied you painfully but the pain was nothing compared to the burning sensation of the sanitizer on the wound. You hissed in pain. "Hey, you took a cut you'll take the stitches," the feeling that he was smiling continued, "ready?"

"No," you took another swig from the bottle.

"Stay still," he ordered before piercing your skin with a needle. You cursed viciously but he only laughed. "You'll get used to it. But if it makes you feel better, I know someone who patches much better and much more gently."

"You couldn't take me to him?" you breathed through clenched teeth.

"Not this time," he quietly answered while pulling the thread across, "he'll come, you know that right? He'll come and he'll be fucking furious."

"Who? Jonathan?"

"I meant Batman but that one too," the needle pierced your skin again, "he's going to huff and growl. He'll probably tell you to leave town. Tell him to go fuck himself."

"I'm stupid but not that stupid," you snorted through the pain.

"He means well you know…" the pain in your arm faded despite him continuing to stitch, "I should tell you to let it go. That you should seriously, get out of Gotham and not look back. That you should fuck this godforsaken city and whatever is keeping you here. Or rather, whoever," he freed the end of the thread and placed the bloody needle back on the towel, "but I know you won't do that."

"You say this as if you know me."

"I know him and that's enough," he tied the knot and stood up, "he's an asshole and a self-righteous hypocrite but he means well. He will try to push you away. Something tells me you won't let him."

"I am so confused right now…"

"You'll get it. Eventually," he snatched the bottle from your hands and screwed the cork shut, "I'm taking this with me," he quipped before heading for the kitchen to wash the blood off his hands and put his gauntlets back on.

"Thanks," you muttered glancing at the stitching, "for everything."

"Burgers, remember?" he threw his jacket over his shoulders then reached into his belt pocket to pull out a small device to hand it to you, "do you know what it is?"

"A motion sensor…" you examined the tiny device closely.

"Yup! If you agree I'll install one at the door, one each at the windows and two at the balcony door. Batman was right. If they haven't caught him yet you'll be the first one Crane comes after," anxiety crept in, "each of us has the ability to remotely disable the sensor if needed. But if someone else tries to enter your apartment we will know. I'll also leave you this," he handed you a tiny switch, "should you want to leave. You can't be a prisoner in your own home. Although I wouldn't recommend wandering around the city as long as Crane is out there."

"Do it," you closed your hand over the switch, "you think he…" you didn't finish. A cold shiver shook your body at visions of what could happen.

"I think he'd be a fucking idiot if he tried, but we don't want to risk it."

You watched as this curious man roamed your apartment installing sensors. Red Hood, they called him. Adequate to his appearance which should make you frightened and yet did not. He was the only one among them who hid his entire face under a helmet. He was the only one among them who carried a gun at his side. He looked more like a criminal than a hero, and yet to you that's what he was. A hero. A man who risked his life to get you out of the trouble you had put yourself in.

"You carry a gun," you noted as he crouched down to install a sensor by the frame of the balcony door, "it's…. odd for a hero."

"Heh, I'm no hero," he chuckled dryly, "I carry guns cos they are damn effective! But rounds are nonlethal. Batman's rules."

"Hey, I'm not judging! Psychopaths and murderers, would it be a crime if the rounds were lethal? Cops have no problem with that."

"We're not cops," he walked over to the window in the living room, "and believe me, you don't want to bring this subject up in front of Batman." He installed the last sensor and returned to you. "All set. I gotta go. You'll be alright," Red Hood crouched down to level with you and the image of a keen gaze immediately popped into your mind. "After I leave you're going to be scared. For a while at least," he dropped the sarcasm while something familiar crept into his tone of voice, the empathy and compassion so reminiscent of Batman, "and that's alright. Everyone gets scared. Take it as an opportunity to fight that fear. As a chance to be brave," you listened in silence, "and do yourself a favor and get some sleep."

"I'll probably gonna sleep for two days," you smiled faintly, "thanks again. You say that you are no hero, but to me, this is exactly who you are. Hero."

"Damn! Just stop! You making me blush really hard under the helmet," sassiness returned.

"I'm serious!" you laughed as he got up, grabbed a bottle of whiskey, and headed toward the balcony.

"So am I!" he opened the door, "burgers! I'll hold you on that!" he stepped outside letting the icy air into the apartment.

"Hey! Red Hood!" you called out after him, "you saved me today. At least tell me your name."

Red Hood stopped just before the railing, holding a grappling gun in one hand and a bottle of whiskey in the other, turned and looked at you as if weighing his answer.

"I'll wait for him to tell you that," he answered finally then fired his grappling hook and soared into the air.

***

Tim and Damian knew that Batman had appeared on the Arkahm grounds. They heard the frightened whispers among guards, heard the taunting laughter between inmates once the information reached them, saw his signal displayed on the computer screens embedded in their gauntlets. His appearance was always followed by fear. It always stirred tension. Not only among those who had reason to fear him but also among those who worked alongside him. They expected him to appear at any moment, to emerge from the darkness, as it was in his habit, measuring them with a stern look and demanding an explanation. They expected him to call them in awaiting a report, demanding a detailed account of past events. Yet it did not happen. The certainty of him watching them from the shadows made them even more uneasy.

Tim lost the trail of Crane faster than he would have liked. For several long minutes, he followed him through the dark corridors of the Asylum, retracing his moves, tailing his footprints leading through Intensive Treatment, past the office that Strange used, down the corridors of the block to the Visitors Center entrance. The trail stopped. He hacked into Arkham's CCTV system and traced his escape route to the point where he rushed into his car and drove off into the night. He had his registration and the brand of his car. He could have followed him. He could have followed him to Gotham and tried to pick up his trail in the city's winding streets. Instead, he decided that at this point a chase was not the best course of action that he could take. Damian didn't need help, of that he was sure, and yet he should check on him. Nightwing and Red Hood were in the town while their comms were silent, a fact that bothered him deeply and formed another path he could take. Finally, the most important thing remained. Strange.

Weighing his choices, he ultimately determined that at this point the most important thing was to find the answer to the question why? With that in mind, he returned to the building to head straight for Hugo Strange's office. He did not expect to find anything evident there, but his detective instinct did not allow him to ignore the probability of discovering new leads. Even if the probability was slim. Ensuring that no one was around he picked the lock and stepped inside.

Stacks of papers, documents, and files perfectly sorted and buried in numerous drawers told him nothing more than what he had already suspected. Strange masked his operations effectively. To a cop or a regular detective, it would have been proof of his innocence, proof that he was an outstanding doctor who, as the transfer papers told him, had returned to Arkham to care for the most challenging patients. Among the records, he found psychological profiles of Two Face, Joker, Riddler, Mad Hatter, and Poison Ivy but also more unusual ones. "PM-X1, PM-X2, PM-X3," read the files of unidentified people as one by one he pulled out folders to study and scan the documents. Statements and reports he was unable to link to anyone he knew detailed the tests and results conducted on voluntary subjects. Vague, incomprehensible, written as if in cipher, ensuring complete anonymity and the inability to link them to him. "You're clever Strange, I'll give you that. But I'm genius here…" he tucked the scanned file away to reach for another. "Project Manticore… what is Project Manticore?"

"You should know that you won't find here anything that can be used against me, Robin," Strange stood in the doorway and measured Tim with a superior gaze.

"And you should know better than to come back here!" tucking the folder behind his belt he adopted a combative stance, "just give up Strange. We both know you're not a fighter."

"No need for violence boy. It's not like I'm gonna fight you. That would be utterly pointless."

"Let me guess, you gonna stall until your goons show up."

"My goons?" a mocking smile twisted his face, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Quit playing games Strange! We have them in custody!" he clenched his fists trying to control his emotions, "the back of the building is riddled with bullets that were aimed in our direction at your command!"

"Prove it," it sounded like a challenge Tim couldn't meet, "prove it. You have nothing boy. You are smart, I presume the smartest of them all. I'm assuming you've already managed to hack into Arkham's CCTV system while trailing Doctor Crane. And if you've already hacked into the CCTV, you must have discovered that the cameras at the back of the building as well as those in the corridors leading to the back exit don't work," he calmly and confidently revealed all the potential vulnerabilities he had long foreseen and eliminated, "you have nothing. Even the files, which are probably already on your computer drive somewhere, pose no threat to me. So why don't you politely give me the file you hid behind your back and in return, I'll tell you where you can find more evidence against Doctor Crane?"

"You talk too much."

The shadow behind Strange's back suddenly took shape as a glowed hand emerged from the void grabbing him and slamming his head against the wall. Strange's face twisted into a grimace of pain, but the groan that should have followed did not come out of his throat. Instead, a malicious grin crept up his face again.

"Where were you taking her?" Batman asked in a chilling voice emerging from the darkness.

"Ah, Batman… I should have guessed that birds don't fly on their own."

"Where were you taking her?" Batman repeated the question with emphasis while pressing his face harder against the wall. The glasses on his nose cracked.

"Do you really think you're going to get the answer to that question out of me with violence? Batman. Emotions cloud your judgment. So unlike you."

Tim stood stunned watching as Batman bared his teeth in rage and, grabbing Strange by the halves of his lab coat, lifted him off his feet to slam him against the desk. The wood shattered into pieces as he lunged and, pressing him to the ground with his boot, growled again.

"Give me something Strange before I send you back to Black Gate!"

"On what charges?" he coughed when Batman's boot pressed harder on his throat.

"The list is long…" he snarled menacingly, "Cadmus, Strange. Talk! Waller assured the Justice League and the President of the United States that the project was closed definitively after the first trials!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Detective," Strange dismissed stubbornly evoking even more anger from Batman. He grabbed him again by his coat and slammed him violently against the wall only to repeat it again.

"I am not playing your games, Strange," he gruffed dealing a punch to his stomach, "talk or they will send you to Black Gate in pieces!" his fist crashed savagely into his face as drops of blood stained Strange's coat, "you tortured her!" another blow shattered the glasses on his nose, "you tortured others like her!" Strange spat blood as Batman's fist hit his ribs painfully, "talk!"

"Batman!" Tim jumped to him catching his arm and preventing him from dealing another blow, "that's enough!" he looked into his enraged eyes, "not like this."

"You can't touch me, Batman," Strange groaned, "no amount of brute force can make me talk and you know it. Just as you know that you have absolutely no proof except the words of a woman who can so easily be dismissed and declared insane. Pitty, to what madness Doctor Crane can drive a person."

Tim tensed his muscles but Batman was stronger. With one sharp pull, he yanked his arm out of Tim's grip and, clenching his fist, delivered another punch. The wall next to Strange's face crumbled. Chunks of concrete scattered all over the ground.

"Next time it will be your face," it was a promise, "stay away from her."

*

On the other side of the ward, in the darkness of the long-unused corridors, Damian was finishing up his crackdown on Strange's thugs, those who, in a glimpse of sanity, had decided to escape. "Fools," he scoffed stalking from hiding the last terrified man cowering silently through the darkened corridor, "you think you will hide? From me?" His cawl read his accelerated heartbeat, over 120 beats per minute pumping adrenaline through his body. His eyes read his every faintest twitch, every rapid movement of his head, every drop of sweat running down his terrified face. Part of him immensely enjoyed the little game he played with them. He was better, smarter, more cunning, superior in every possible sense. They were hardly prey who, out of fear, tried to flee to the shadows and hide in the darkness. But he knew the Shadows, he was raised by them, shaped by them, the Shadows served him.

"Not so brave when you're not hiding behind a machine gun…" he quipped, eyeing the man's reaction. He jumped up spooked raising his fists to his face defensively.

"You're not Batman!" he shouted into space, "show yourself you fucking psycho!"

"Awh, big talk, that's cute…" he swooped over his head silently, holding onto the ventilation shafts hanging from the ceiling.

"I'm not gonna go to prison! Fuck no!"

"Behind the bars of a Gotham County cell, you won't be so snarky."

"He made me do it!"

"They always do…" situated just above his head he prepared to jump, "tell me why? What did Strange want from that woman."

"How the fuck would I know?!"

"Wrong answer."

"I'm just a gun for hire! Come on man! Tell your boss that I run away!"

"He is not my boss…" he growled through clenched teeth, "what is Strange doing here?"

"I don't know!"

"Wrong answer again," he could have taken him down at any time but he enjoyed it too much. He reached into the pocket of his belt and pulled out a birdarang, "all your associates are down. You are going down too." He threw the birdarang straight at the man's feet.

"Where are you!?" the man shouted in fear, "Where are you!?"

"Here…" a low voice emerged from space, followed by a blow, and the hollow sound of collapsing body. The shadows betrayed him. The shadows did not belong to him but to his father who embraced them long ago. Batman stepped out of the dark and, without even looking in his direction, said, "You were playing with him. You could have eliminated him three minutes and seventeen seconds ago."

"It's called intimidation techniques, Father. Something you should know very well," he snarled, jumping off the vent and landing next to Tim. Tension hung in the air between them.

"Report," Batman ordered standing over them and glaring menacingly.

"In the driveway in the back ten thugs. Unconscious, disarmed, restrained, ready for transport. Two more in the eastern part of Intensive Treatment, four at the entrance to Holding Cells, one in the restroom in the west corridor, and this one here," Damian reported.

"Crane got away," Tim began, "I hacked into the CCTV system after I lost track of him at the main gate. He took his car and drove off. Given that we know his registration, where he lives as well as his office and workplace locations I decided that trailing him was pointless at this point and chose to investigate Strange. He is a much bigger threat."

"Not exactly."

"What aren't you telling us?"

"Crane is the murderer we've been looking for," Batman began, "he won't go home because his house is currently being secured by Gordon and his men. He won't go to one of his offices or the hospital because he knows we're monitoring them. If he doesn't attack again tonight he will hide somewhere, wait and strike again. But this time it won't be a stealth attack."

"I should go after him…" Tim clenched his jaw suppressing his anger, "I decided, I decided that…"

"You made the best possible decision based on the information you had," he interrupted him, "we'll talk about it at home. Both of you, you are dismissed. Go home."

"You are not going with us?" Damian asked.

"No. I have one more thing to do."

*

You stood on the balcony calmly smoking a cigarette, watching his shape fade into the distance as the dreadful meaning of his words began to creep in. A slowly increasing fear seemed to be looking at you with green venomous eyes from every dark corner of the surrounding city. He was there. You knew it. You could feel it. He was watching you. He was furious. But so were you. The soreness and weariness of your body, the mental exhaustion, the heavy eyelids, and the numbness of your muscles could not subdue the rage you felt. "I've seen monsters. You're not one of them. You are their victim." Batman's words echoed in your mind.

"Victim…"

"The accomplice or another victim…"

"His victim…"

You closed the balcony door with a slam and made sure the sensor was on. You crossed the apartment checking each window and making sure the red light was steady. You turned the bottom lock on the front door and, just to be sure, inserted the key into the top one, turned it, and left the key inside. You were tired. So very tired. The weight of the past day's events was slowly beginning to settle in depriving you of that little bit of strength that kept you on your feet, pushing into your mind thoughts and feelings you didn't want to face. Not yet.

You stripped off your clothes, all of them, from your underwear to your skirt and blouse, but instead of throwing them in the laundry basket you folded them into a garbage bag, then another as if trying to hide your shame and disgust, and threw them in the trash. You needed a shower. A long shower that you didn't plan to get out of for many minutes. Maybe even hours. You needed to wash away the nightmare you had experienced. Needed to wash away his toxins. To wash away him. Tears ran into your eyes but you swallowed them. You couldn't fall apart, not yet.

Before you headed for the shower you lit another cigarette and sat down in front of the computer. You needed to endure for a little longer, you needed to do one more pressing thing before your mind completely crumbles under the weight of your emotions. The light of the screen blinded you, hurt your tired eyes but also brought a much-needed brief awakening. You inhaled the smoke deeply, opened the WORD document and, with a heavy heart and strong determination, tapped out a few important words.

"This is the right thing to do…" you tried to console yourself however the heartache was weighing down. "The right decision…" you inhaled again, opened the email, typed in the recipient, added the attachment and, with a heavy exhale, clicked send. "Now I can fall apart."

You didn't cry. The pain of the decision you made was nothing compared to the overwhelming feeling of helplessness gripping your body and mind. A numbness shutting out your sense to the surrounding safety of your own home, binding you in a cage of your own thoughts. The softness of the carpet under your bare feet did not bring a feeling of comfort as you headed through the bedroom to the bathroom with a dragging step. The warm light of the wall lamps did not bring a smile when you faced your own reflection in the mirror. A bloody wound on your arm covered with three black stitches was the only trace of comfort remaining on your body. "It's funny how a wound can bring comfort," you scoffed somberly while sweeping your eyes over your naked body. "What have I done…" you ran your hands over the traces of your mistakes. The red marks around your breasts were painful to touch, the scratches on your arm barely visible formed a path to the redness on your neck that slowly began taking on hues of purple, yellow, and green, the sad face and dark circles under your eyes revealed complete exhaustion, a nervous breakdown lurked behind them. You raised your hand toward your face to brush away your falling hair and paused to stare at the dried blood on your palm. You touched the wound but it didn't hurt. Not as much as the imprints of his hand on your neck. Not as much as the breaking pain in the back of your head. You looked your reflection in the eyes. "Is that what I wanted?" you searched for the answer within yourself, "is that what I deserve?" tears came to your eyes, "what now?"

You wanted to close your eyes and disappear. Disappear forever. Push away the thoughts of the nightmare that was yet to come, dismiss the memories of the nightmares that were yet to haunt you, forget the deep blue eyes and the wandering barely perceptible smile you were destined never to see again, erase the feeling of safety and inspiration you were never meant to follow. You longed to escape. To disappear. To start all over again somewhere else. To become someone else.

"The past has a habit of following us wherever we go…"

His words invaded your mind, concealing all the glaring pain with a thick shadow, and even though they seemed sad to you at the time now they brought a strange sense of solace. There was no way out. Escape was not a solution. You couldn't. Part of you knew that the only path you could take was through fear and horror, through anger and pain, toward a hopeful future. You couldn't turn back. You had to find the strength within yourself.

You let the warm water run down your body, wash away the cares and worries, hide the tears that began to flow down your cheeks, to take away the weaknesses and fears that tried to take over you.

"Fear, if you let it, can be a paralyzing force, can be the thing that sabotages your every move, your every plan. But if you take control of it, it can become one of the strongest forces driving your actions. It's all a matter of choice."

You stepped into the shower whole and, slowly changing the temperature to cold, watched as the remnants of blood flowed from the cut on your arm, from the wound on your hand, from the cut on the back of your head, running down the drain along with all your despair. Your body trembled under the icy stream but you clenched your teeth feeling as the pain gave way to determination.

"Take it as an opportunity to fight that fear. As a chance to be brave."

You clenched your fists breathing deeply. Trembling from the cold, you closed your eyes and sank deep within yourself, searching for the strength that lay dormant. Looking for that spark that guided your steps, that energy that seemed to bend reality to your will. It was there. Weak and stifled. Barely shimmering under the weight of reality. You reached for it.

"It always comes down to the choices we make. Do we let it control us, or do we control it."

You breathed deeply. Tears stopped streaming down your cheeks. The stinging feeling in your heart disappeared. You felt no pain nor cold. Blue sparks danced faintly over your arms and everything that was painful disappeared. All that remained was an unshakeable determination, a burning anger, a hope that perhaps a path through the nightmare would lead you toward a better future. Toward something good.

*

Bruce cursed under his breath upon seeing the parted curtains and their complete absence in some of the windows, promising himself that the day will come when he will bring it to her attention. Although he knew that the height of her floor provided a measure of privacy he felt that she should be more careful. He looked away when she dropped the towel, waiting longer than necessary to return his eyes to her windows. The light in her bedroom was still on when, wrapped tightly in a warm fluffy sweater, she opened the window to let the cigarette smoke outside. Wet hair fell over her face but she seemed not to care. She leaned against the sill and closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. From afar he could see the exhaustion on her face and the sadness in her eyes, a sight that burdened his heart. He longed so badly to go to her. He wished so much to take her in his arms and hug her, to take away her sadness and pain, to make her feel calm and safe, to cradle her in his arms until she fell asleep. He couldn't.

"It's all my fault…" the painful realization struck him again, "I should have told her. I should have stopped her. I should have protected her…" She looked in his direction, and even though the distance separating them made it impossible for a moment he was sure she was looking straight at him, that she could see through the darkness and fog and was gazing straight into his eyes. The illusion of her frail smile played on his imagination.

"I want to believe that in this vicious rotten world there are still people who care about the well being of others."

The memory of their first meeting still lingered vividly in his memory. Completely random, two strangers in a big city, and yet at that moment neither of them realized how close they were to each other. Her effortless charm, genuine smile, and the sparkle in her eye captivated him. Her brightness shattered his darkness, and although he didn't allow the thought at the time, at that moment she took possession of his heart.

For months he denied himself acknowledgment of this feeling and yet it was there, guiding his actions, with each passing day bringing him closer to her. No matter if by day or under cover of the night, he felt connected to her. Like two souls lost in the ocean of life who finally found their way to each other. A way from which he had to turn back. There was no place for love in his life. The burden of his life would destroy it. He longed for it but knew he couldn't have it.

He zoomed in on her face, watching as she raised her head towards the night sky and sighed heavily. The burden of the past day was dragging her down. The weight of everything she had experienced, everything she had seen, everything he had discovered. The memory of Crane's apartment crushed his heart as he angrily clenched his hands into fists. "I should have protected her…"

"Life is like poker you know! Sometimes a hand is dealt poorly and you have to wait it out. And sometimes you just go all in! We don't get to choose how we start in this life. Real greatness is what you do with the hand you're dealt."

The memory of her smile and the spark in her eye once again shattered the darkness that lingered over his thoughts. She didn't know it, but that day for the first time in a very long time he felt close to someone. Unknowingly, she wove with her words the silver thread that connected the two of them. Every day she drew him closer to her and he didn't try to stay away. "I should have..." Silver tears ran down her cheeks and she didn't even try to wipe them away. In her eyes he saw determination and strength to face the painful reality. So courageous. So naively idealistic. She reminded him so much of himself just a few years ago when life seemed simpler and the mission had not yet left its mark on him.

Mission. His dedication and the sacrifice he had chosen to make years ago. His whole life.

"Let's be open with each other. No secrets."

If only it was that simple. Even though the mission had become his life years ago, and all his attention and dedication was focused on fulfilling it there was a part of him that wanted it badly. Faint and repressed, barely breaking through all the regime he had imposed on himself but it was there. It surfaced sometimes when together with Damian he watched movies, when along with Tim he discussed the latest technological trends, when alongside Dick he worked on repairing equipment and modifications to the vehicles while discussing his friend's problems, every time Jason showed up at the mansion. That fleeting sense of ordinariness when, in Alfred's company, he sometimes opened a book to read to the accompaniment of classical music. Yes, in those moments he was himself, in those moments he was just Bruce. If only she knew how many moments like these he experienced in her company. If only she knew how many times he felt just Bruce when she was close to him. If only he could tell her how much he treasured those moments, how much they meant to him. If only he could tell her the truth.

She closed the window, turned off the lights, and, burying herself in the black sheets, she closed her eyes. He knew she would not be sleeping peacefully that night. He suspected that the nightmare would wake her once or twice in a cold sweat with her heart pounding in terror. His heart was aching to go there, knock on her window, take off his mask, kiss her, embrace her, and stay with her until the dawn of day. "She'll be better off without me. I won't ruin her life…" he sighed heavily suppressing the feelings inside him allowing cold logic to take over.

"I'm not a good person, Batman…"

She was wrong. She was so very wrong. It was he who was not a good person. "I condemned four lives for this fate. I will not condemn her as well."

He jumped off the roof and soared into the night.

*

On the other side of the city, below the rich mansion built on a hill, the night was slowly drawing to a close with each safe return. Alfred observed with a wary eye the boys' behavior, listened to their conversations, assessed situations, and drew conclusions. The most important thing for him was that they all returned uninjured, unharmed, and in relatively good spirits. No matter how many nights he stayed awake awaiting their return, no matter how many times he saw how highly trained they were, his heart always fluttered at the thought that any of them could get hurt. Too many times he had seen them on the brink of death.

The first to return were Damian and Tim. Their hung faces and focused gazes told him a lot and the conversation only added to the facts.

"I should follow him…" Tim repeated to Damian, "I should know better."

"Father should tell us everything, provide all the facts and details instead of withholding them from us!"

"Bruce is always hiding something from us."

"If we knew everything the situation would have turned out very differently. Don't make a martyr of yourself, Drake. It's beneath you."

"Alfred!" Tim turned to him putting down his equipment on the big workbench, removing his mask, and unfastening his cape, "if I could ask you for a strong coffee and some carbs. Work for tonight is not finished."

"Are you going to track him?" Damian threw in a surprised question, "I'm sure he's not going out of town. He has a reason to stay here and carry out the plans Father thwarted for him today."

"That's precisely why I need to find him before he attacks again!" he took off his gauntlets and sat down in front of the computer, "we know the registration of his car, we have his facial recognition, we know all the locations he has gone to in the past. With the help of the city's surveillance cameras and by using the triangulation of our satellites, I can still find him today and stop him before he strikes again."

"Timothy, he's only human. And the whole city already knows what he did. He'll hole up somewhere and wait out the first storm before he makes another move."

"All the more reason to find him now."

"Master Timothy, I understand that the conversation is about Doctor Crane," Alfred began calmly, "given the evening's news I take it that Master Bruce's assumptions were correct and that unfortunately, Doctor Crane managed to escape."

"He did not manage, Alfred," Tim corrected him quietly, "I let it happen."

"Master Timothy, I'm sure we'll find him in no time but I insist on a decent meal and an adequate amount of sleep. The past night was intense enough for all of you."

"I'm fine Alfred, we are all fine…" Tim wasn't listening as he activated the tracking system and entered the data into the computer.

"A few thugs with machine guns, hardly a challenge!" Damian added smugly yet Alfred could clearly see the fatigue on the boy's face.

"I insist."

"I need a few extra hours…" Tim ignored his pleas. Taking control of the city's surveillance systems and synchronizing them with the satellite he set the target, "and coffee."

Before Alfred had a chance to issue another argument the cave filled with the growling sounds of motorcycle engines. Nightwing drove in front and Batman followed closely behind. They parked and, without exchanging a word, walked through the cave to approach the same table and remove the equipment. It didn't take Alfred more than a few seconds to assess state of their minds. Bruce was furious while Richard, by contrast, seemed restless to break the uncomfortable silence.

"Jason?" Bruce asked noticing his absence.

"Master Jason has not returned to the cave," Alfred replied.

"Maybe he's still with Y/N?" Dick suggested.

"He isn't. I've been there," he cursed quietly which he didn't usually do in their presence, "call him up," he ordered to Dick.

"Maybe you should…"

"Just do it!"

"Listen, man, I get that you're pissed and all but…" Dick snapped meeting his stern gaze, "I'll call him up."

"I've set the CCTV cameras to search for Crane's car registration and for facial recognition," Tim didn't hesitate to inform him of the steps he had taken, "I've synchronized it with our satellites and set the scan field to Gotham, Bludhaven and Metropolis. We'll find him before he makes his next move."

"Well done Tim."

"I'm also uploading to the computer scans of the files I managed to find in Strange's office," he continued, "and then there's this," he handed him a folder labeled Project Manticore.

"Let's hope letting Crane go is worth it," Damian glanced at the caption, "Project Manticore…" he mused, "a hybrid, a chimera, a legendary creature being a fusion of a lion, a dragon, a bat, and a scorpion."

"Deadly and stealthy…" Tim continued.

"A weapon," Dick added walking up to them, "Jason will be here soon," he informed feeling Bruce's stern gaze on him, "first Cadmus, now this. Bruce this is getting bigger by the minute."

"What is Cadmus?" Damian asked curiously.

"Something that to Justice Leauge's knowledge should not exist," Bruce muttered flipping through the files.

"Father, I think in light of tonight's events we would all appreciate more transparency on your part," Bruce's menacing stare did not work this time. They were right, and they knew it.

"Cadmus was a secret government project designed to counter and control the expanding power and numbers of metahumans in the world," Dick began the explanation, "using highly developed technology and with the help of scientists of questionable reputation, they conducted research and experiments in order to create an army of metahumans in the service of the government."

"The practices and intentions of those involved in the project were extremely unethical, bordering on criminal activity. Some joined the project voluntarily when a well-timed persuasion was applied to others," Bruce continued, "the good and safety of humanity was just a fancy slogan they used to cover up the drive for power and the arms race in the form of superhumans. Justice League led to its closure and complete dismantling."

"Apparently not," Damian scoffed.

"Strange's attempt to extort Y/N now makes total sense and explains the complete lack of any trace of her for roughly four years," Dick began to connect the facts out loud, "no records of where she worked, no home address, no activity on social media, not even a credit card transactions! They must have been holding her somewhere! The question is how she got free. Did she escape or is she a manticore? If Cadmus has resumed their activities we must…" The words caught in his throat as the sudden realization of his own carelessness struck him. Bruce's cold gaze rested on him while his stone face masked the rage boiling beneath the surface. "Bruce listen…"

"Jason assured that none of you knew about the files," he growled through clenched teeth.

"Fine, I knew! Jason lied!" he sighed in exasperation, "you can get angry if you want!"

"I knew too…" Tim added quietly.

"We all knew. Big deal," Damian huffed.

"I clearly told you that I do not wish…"

"Okay man, stop! Just stop! Yeah, you told us and so what! That's what we're trained to do! That's what you trained us to do!"

"She jumped in front of a gun and made Jason fly with the power of her mind," Tim recalled their first meeting.

"Father, surely you weren't expecting us to stay away when you were getting increasingly involved. She's not exactly an ordinary dame."

"We only did what you should have done a long time ago! But since you decided to be a stubborn ass…." the growl of an approaching motorcycle drowned out his words, "we only did this because you refused."

"We needed to be sure that she is one of the good guys. Especially since she kept getting herself into all kinds of troubles."

"A coincidence that should have long ago aroused your suspicions, Father."

"We couldn't just let go and let you…"

"It's called privacy."

"You gotta be kidding me!" Dick couldn't hide his frustration, "she ain't just some chick that you are hanging with to keep up the appearance! Dude! I saw you two! Half of Gotham's elite saw you!"

"And we all interacted with her," Tim remained calm while trying to reach Bruce with logic, "after the incident at the Amusement Mile, she stopped being the woman who caught Bruce Wayne's attention and became the person of interest for Robins, Nightwing and Red Hood."

"Not to mention the Joker and, as it turns out, the new supervillain, Scarecrow," Dick continued, "you have no right to be angry with us."

"I have no right?" the illusive composure faded into an increasingly gravely voice, "I have no right?"

"Father…"

"You went behind my back despite my clear order. You violated my privacy. You've carried out an investigation which I did not want to do due to my personal reasons," the muscles of his shoulders twitched in tension as he approached Dick, "has it occurred to you that maybe I didn't want to know? That if I had cared to find out everything about her in advance then I would have checked it out myself?"

"Imagine that it did! That's why we didn't tell you anything about it until today!"

"Bruce, it was a right thing to do," Tim kept reasoning, "I'm sure some part of you knows that."

"First you follow her despite my direct order. You get Damian and Tim ivolved," Bruce aimed a furious stare at Dick, "and now this. And you have the nerve to tell me that I have no right to be angry?"

"So what now? Are we grounded or something?" Jason sneered joining them, "for fuck sake, man! Listen to yourself! We're all telling you that we did what you trained us to do, that we did the only right thing that could be done, that fuck, I don't know, maybe we wanted to make sure that you stubborn, all-knowing, self-righteous ass won't get hurt and that we won't get hurt in the process! That maybe we do give a fuck!"

"Master Jason…" Alfred tried to calm him down.

"Nah, I'm sorry Al but he gotta hear this!" Jason was boiling, "you always know best, huh? You're always right and your reason is always the most valid! You give orders and expect us to follow them like good little soldiers! Newsflash asshole! Some of us are fucking adults and the fact that we are here is our fucking choice!" he stood between him and Dick and pointed his fingers at his chest, "you insisted that you wouldn't do a background check on her and man, I get that, I totally do! Good for you and all! But you have no fucking right to be all pissed!" Bruce remained silent clenching his jaw in rage, "if we had listened to you your girl would have been long taken away to fuck knows where! If we had listened to you we wouldn't know shit about Cadmus! If we had listened to you we wouldn't know that Hugo fucking Strange is back in Gotham! If we listened to you we would have jack fucking squat! So why don't you pull your head out of your ass for a change and admit you made a mistake! 'Cause thank you would probably burn your throat out," he huffed heavily while Dick's hand placed on his chest held him back.

"Jason is right Bruce," anger blazed in their eyes and the last thing Tim wanted was for them to start exchanging blows, "you should tell us everything. This wasn't just your personal case. This is a case that concerns all of us and which you have made personal." He got up from the computer and walked over to them focusing Bruce's angry gaze on himself, "you taught us how to be a team and despite your best efforts we are a team."

"A team that worked extremely well despite the fact that the leader chose to keep it in the dark," Damian joined them standing next to Jason, "I'm sorry Father but you failed. Out of all of us, it shouldn't be Todd giving me the talk on how to be part of the team only you," despite the visible tension Bruce's gaze softened, "but don't worry. Even without you, we did just fine. Grayson is an outstanding leader on the battlefield."

"We've got Scarecrow on the loose, Strange and Cadmus to investigate, and whatever Project Manticore is," Tim continued calmly, "we'll all be working on it whether you want us to or not."

"Don't forget Luthor's investigation in Metropolis," Damian threw in and, upon seeing the surprise on his face, added, "Kent has super-hearing. Honestly, Father, you shouldn't be surprised."

"You heard them," Jason growled relaxing a bit, "stop bitching and start working with us instead of against us."

Bruce remained silent for a moment. Sitting down heavily in his chair, he looked at all of them closely and at each of them individually. For most of the day confronted with his mistakes, all day analyzing every wrong step he had taken in the past days and even weeks at this moment he could not help but feel pride. So different from each other and yet so similar. They had been through so much together, so much had divided them and yet they chose to stay together. As a team. As a family. Perhaps one of the few things he did right in his life was to bring them together.

"Hey, don't rush it, man! Let it sink in!" Jason snarled, "I have almost a full bottle of fine single malt in my trunk! You with me Wing?" he turned to his brother.

"Damn, and just like that you talked me into it!" Dick smirked, "let's get changed and head out."

"You're right…" Bruce finally spoke, "you're all right. I'm sorry."

"Wing, hold me I'm having a heart attack!"

"I don't know when but Y/N…" he stopped his words, "I care about her and yes, I took this matter personally. I focused on myself and let my feelings overshadow the greater picture."

"Emmm, B? You sure you're feeling alright?" Dick quipped helplessly trying to disguise the amusement appearing on his face.

"It's not just about your commitment. You made the right decision, and I thank you for that…" he rested his elbows on his knees and hung his head but the boys only came closer like curious children awaiting a good story.

"Go on! Don't stop yourself," Jason grinned, "tell us how badly you fucked up."

"Badly," he scoffed, "I fucked up badly."

"Let's guess," Dick wasn't about to give him the chance to back away, "you wanted to do things your way, at the same time trying to fight off the obvious feelings you have for her…"

"Explaining to yourself that the mission is everything and that you need to stay away…" Jason continued.

"Justifying your own behavior with the need to protect her…" Tim threw in.

"Yet simultaneously doing absolutely nothing to stop her from delving into our world," Damian pointed out.

"And thus falling deeper and deeper into the loop of your own lies, so contrary to your intentions…"Alfred remarked quietly, standing next to him and leaning against the computer.

"And now everything that happened today is your fault," Dick concluded, "from whatever you discovered in the Crane apartment to everything that happened in Arkahm."

"And of course you blame yourself for it, cos that's what you always do."

"That pretty much sums it up…" he sighed heavily, "now she is in danger because of me."

"Bullshit!" Jason sneered, "dude we all know how much you love to mope and suffer but she is not in dager because of you! She did this all by herself!"

"Besides, there are four of us against Carne!" Damian quipped with a smug, "at least until Mother finds out. Perhaps she won't kill her when she finds out that you brought a woman into the house."

"Damian!!!" all four exclaimed simultaneously.

"What! All I'm saying is nothing but known facts and an expected sequence of events! Aren't we all thinking that?"

"No one is talking about bringing her home, son. Nevertheless, that doesn't change the reality that her involvement in the Cadmus case as well as the fact that she is the most likely Scarecrow's next target makes her our priority. My priority."

"Oh here we go again!" Dick rolled his eyes, "Bruce! For the love of god!"

"She's not gonna stay away. She's hell'a stubborn just like you, man."

"She will need our help. Perhaps help of Justice Leauge," Tim reasoned, "even if you want to, which we all know you don't, you can't just stay away from her. You can't just leave a meta-human alone without oversight."

"Simply put, you are fucked!" Jason snarled, "so stop with all the bullshit excuses which lead us all to this place and fucking talk to her! If she has any sense left she'll tell you to go fuck yourself but hey, at least you could try."

"You should tell her the truth, Bruce," Dick encouraged gently, "the whole truth."

"That's gonna be a disaster," Damian scoffed.

"But we're all okay with it," Tim assured and the others nodded, "it's the right thing to do."

"Master Bruce, I'm afraid that boys are right," Alfred spoke up, "if you think about her as seriously as we think you do you should tell her the truth. And if not, you should stop deceiving the woman and meddling in her life. Socializing publicly with you does not go unnoticed."

"Boys, I appreciate but…"

"Just sleep on it!" Dick interrupted him, "let it sink in and sleep on it."

"I have to check on her."

"She's fine," Jason cut him off, "she's numbed herself with a few deep ones and I patched her up. Surely she'll have a nasty scar but she'll be fine. I installed motion sensors at the windows and doors."

"You did all that?"

"She allowed me! So you can go to sleep. No one will enter her house and if the sensors get turned on we will know."

"Thank you, Jason."

"Just doing my job."

"See!!! Teamwork!" Dick gushed grinning, "TEAM-WORK! We discovered the killer's identity, saved seven innocent victims, discovered Strange's involvement and saved an foolish idealist from serious trouble! TEAM-WORK!!!"

"You did a great job. I'm proud of you boys."

"Well fuck me…"

"Teamwork?"

"No more keeping us in the dark, Bruce."

"Your transparency will save us a lot of work, Father."

"I will do better," a frail smile affected Bruce's face, "you have my word."

"Damn, enough of these feelings! I'm starting to feel uncomfortable," Jason snapped as he grabbed his jacket to head out, "you with me Dickie-bird? I think our job is done here."

"Jason, stay for the night," Bruce stopped him, "this is your home too."

"Now you're just making things awkawrd on purpouse."

"Your bedroom is always ready for you Master Jason."

"Damn you guys… I'll stay if Dick stays."

"I won't let you finish that single malt alone little-wing," Dick smirked.

"No loud music at night, gentlemen."

"You got it, Al!"

"And no hangovers at the brekfast table!

"Yes, Alfred!"

"And no…"

"Sure thing, Al!"

***

A deep gloomy night descended over Gotham. The lights had long since faded from the surrounding buildings, leaving the city illuminated only by street lamps and the shining glow of the full moon. Gotham seemed to spread its veil of stillness and serenity but it did not reach you, it did not soothe your nerves into sleep. Interrupted sleep brought no rest. Haunting images pulled you back to lonely reality time and again, with a racing heartbeat and cold sweat. The pack of cigarettes grew emptier with each heavy sigh and each quiet curse. A faint tears running down your cheeks seemed to chase after the lonely raindrops trickling down the window panes as you got up once again to gaze at the moon. "Are you there?" you wondered, "are you watching me?" you asked.

In silence your thoughts seemed to scream louder, in the dark your fears seemed to stare at you from every corner of your home, at night you couldn't find solace. Letting slowly smoke out, you regretted that you allowed him to take that bottle of whiskey with him. "He knew what he was doing," you scoffed sourly to settle for a glass of water and return to bed. Behind closed eyes, you could see a clear picture of all your mistakes and when sleep finally came you could feel them all over again.

*

The white light once again blinded you hurting your eyes. The chill of the sterile surroundings brought a shiver to your skin while the sight of countless closed doors filled you with doubt.

"I see curiosity is eating you up," the man walking in front of you noted. He wasn't tall but his posture seemed to fill the room. His prying eyes glanced at you over his glasses but betrayed no emotion. His perfectly balanced words reflected a high intelligence that left you feeling small. "Soon the entire compound will become your new home and all these doors will be open to you. But first, we must clear the formalities."

He led you through a wide, empty corridor toward a small office, and once the door closed, he took a seat behind the desk and pointed to the seat opposite him.

"Professor, I was told that the facility is designed to develop and discover abilities in people…" hesitated, "that are gifted."

"Meta-humans is the proper term to describe someone like you. You'll learn everything, but first the paperwork," he reached into a drawer and pulled out a file of documents, "a few signatures, declarations and you'll be part of the program."

"I'd like to know exactly what the program is before I sign anything," you set the pen aside and flipped through the thick folder.

"I'm afraid I won't be able to reveal the details until you have signed the declaration of will," there was something unpleasant about him, something that made your skin crawl, "you must understand that the program is highly classified."

"What if I won't sign?"

"You will sign," he smiled tinctively, "after all, no one forced you to come here. Curiosity won't let you leave now."

You picked up a pen and pressed it against the first page only to stop for a moment and leave a single black dot.

"It says here that I waive the right to adjudicate my own will…" you uttered, "this is illegal. I'm sorry, but I can't sign this."

"Don't you want to discover your abilities?"

"I want to but…"

"Don't you want to find out what you can actually do?"

"Of course I want to but it doesn't feel right."

"Don't you want to know if you could save them if you only knew how?"

"I do…"

"Then sign."

You pressed the pen to the paper again but a trembling hand objected. They knew. How did they know? You were a nobody, and yet they knew. You dragged the line and gasped in shock. The black ink spread across the paper covered the entire page, spread across the desk, over the chairs, over the floor to reach the walls and cover the white underneath the implacable black. You jumped away from the table frightened, knocking over a chair that seemed to disappear silently under the black surface. It surrounded you on all sides and only the professor's face, twisted in a sinister smirk, seemed to be staring at you in a frozen expression.

"You remember…" from the darkness came a low deep voice piercing the void, "you keep coming back to the same memories," distant but close, coming from every direction and yet seeming to be right next to you.

"I know you…" you whispered into the void.

"Yes, we have met before."

"Morpheus…" you uttered silently as his name felt familiar and strange to you equally, "your name is Morpheus. And I'm not supposed to know that."

"For the convenience of this meeting, you shall know it. Just as you shall know me," the blackness parted revealing a statuesque man of skin as fair as marble and eyes as deep as depths of the endless starry abyss of the darkest night.

"It's a dream…"

"It is. Yet it is also a memory. A memory that you try to conjure in dreams but you can't."

"You can control it…"

"I can," he moved closer to you as if drifting carried by the darkness itself.

"You control all dreams and nightmares…" you uttered yet your lips did not move. The stars in his eyes glowed pale, "why do I know this?"

"Because I allowed it."

"Are you a god?"

"No."

"Who are you then?"

"The concept of my existence will not be conceivable to you at this moment," his lips moved but his voice seemed to echo out of the abyss beyond time and space, "I am no threat to you."

"Why are you here?"

"You need help Y/N Y/L/N," the breath of the universe swept coldly over your skin, "you keep coming back to the same dreams, the same memories, that you cannot escape from. You can't move past them. I find you here every night. Every night your memories create a new nightmare. This needs to stop."

"If you control the dreams why do you let it happen?"

"I am here now, am I not?" the endless black of his eyes deepened, "I have stepped into your dream once again and chose to reveal my presence to you."

"Will you stop the nightmares?"

"No."

"Then why…"

"Be quiet," he interrupted you sternly, "you must understand the exceptional nature of this moment. Decades passed since the last time I resolved to interfere with a mortal's dream. Yet my siblings ensure that your desires are pure, for most of the time at least," the marble face seemed to brighten in a barely discernible smile.

"Are there more like you?"

"Is that the question you want to ask?"

"I guess not…" the galaxies in his eyes mesmerized, "why me? Why are you helping me?"

"I get curious when a magic user emerges in the mortal world," the stars glimmered intensely.

"Say what?" your lips moved but no words came out. Yet he seemed to hear your thoughts.

"You are not a meta-human Y/N, not in the way humans understand it. You are something else. But you already know that. You have always known it. Your mind tries desperately to remember but it can't." Slowly he moved his eyes toward the professor while the stars in his eyes dimmed. "These humans. They have wronged you. They hurt your body, soul and mind. They have taken your intentions and perverted them to suit their needs. They violated your will. Your memories are full of pain and suffering."

"Will you show them to me?"

"I could send you all the memories at once if I only chose to. I will not do that. It would be pointless. Your mind would surely collapse under their weight," out of the midst of the darkness he reached out a marble slender hand towards you, "Instead, I offer to guide you through them. I can help you remember."

Although your hand trembled you reached out to grasp his. The blackness around you faded away. Golden grains of sand appeared as if out of nowhere enclosing you, dancing and swirling around you, blurring the image, lifting you above the nonexistent ground to spread into nothingness a moment later and reveal a new image, a new dream, a long-forgotten memory.

*

It felt as if the memories in your head blended together just like the colors of unsorted laundry carelessly thrown into the washing machine. The past far and near clashed together to create a new distorted reality. The space around you appeared white and sterile again, like the one from your horrific memories, but at the same time obscured and dimmed much like one of the rooms in Arkham. There was no blinding white light, no heavy metal doors, no machines, no cables, tubes or monitors. Only a vertical bed with wide safety straps so reminiscent of the one in Crane's lab, only a single metal frame with a narrow beam of light aimed straight at it.

"I don't remember this place…" you said silently as the darkness around you formed a shape revealing his figure, "I don't remember this."

"You do remember. After all, we are in your memories," he replied softly.

"You created this?"

"I merely took what you had hidden deep at the bottom of your consciousness and brought it to the surface," he explained, gazing not at you but into the space in front, "this memory, this dream, were particularly difficult to retrieve. They ensured that you would not remember it."

"Who did?"

As if in answer to your question, the door to the room opened letting in a sliver of light that disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. Professor Strange, assisted by two stout, strong men, stood a short distance from you and fixed his displeased eyes on you.

"I should have known there would be trouble with you," he clicked his tongue, "but the intrigue of your abilities doesn't allow me to simply write you off," he came close enough for you to smell the starch on his apron, "your insubordination, your defiance of orders, your deliberate sabotage of your training, and your stubbornness. Why do you resist when you saw for yourself the consequences of such behavior?"

He waited for the answer you should have given but couldn't. Your mind could not recall the event while your body seemed to remember all too well. Your muscles tensed as if in anticipation of the pain that was about to come. Your heart sped up as if in premature response to the distress you were about to experience. The headache attacked without warning piercing your head, cracking it, penetrating every thought and memory, shattering them into the thousands of pieces you were so desperately trying to put together.

"Big mouth and snarky words won't do you any good," he mocked, "we have ways to control the likes of you."

You looked at Morpheus horrified as two men came up to you and grabbed you painfully, one by your shoulders to lift you off the ground and the other by your ankles. You called out to him but he only watched everything with a marble emotionless face, only the stars in his eyes seemed to dim in sorrow.

"Make it stop!" you shouted to him as they pressed you to the bed, "I beg you! Make it stop!" you cried as they twisted your wrists to strap them down, as they grabbed your ankles to steady them, "Morpheus please…" you stifled as they forced a rubber guard into your mouth while fastening the last strap over your forehead.

"Insubordination we can correct, painfully," Strange smiled wryly, "how long you suffer depends only on you," he moved the metal frame closer directing it straight at you and activated the switch.

Your body shook in convulsions as the red laser entered your pupil piercing into your brain. Muscles contracted rapidly, bending your limbs at an unnatural angle. Breath caught in your lungs for a moment only to escape with a desperate panting. A cold sweat coated your skin soaking your clothes, blending with the warm trickle that ran down your leg. Red was penetrating through your wide open eyes, burning holes in your brain, distorting your consciousness. It was erasing your identity, turning everything that was yours into a blur. One by one, thoughts disappeared from your mind, feelings got erased leaving you hollow, leaving you numb. Anger, rage, frustration, will to fight, fear disappeared one by one devoured by the red. You felt nothing. You thought nothing. Only the brightly electrifying energy continued to simmer in you trying to protect the essence of your being.

*

The pale full moon light crept into Bruce's bedroom chasing away sleep bringing with it the chill of reflection and analysis. For few long minutes he laid with his hands under his head staring at the sky outside the window as if waiting for a signal to brighten in the sky, waiting for the needed distraction, for a way to escape his own thoughts. But the signal did not light up. "I wonder if she is asleep…"

For a moment he considered getting up and returning to the cave, to plunge into work, work out, to drown out his thoughts with the sound of punches, to turn emotions into the strain of muscles and tendons and the rush of doubts into a cool sweat on his body. Clear the mind if only for a moment. "Pointless…"

He got up from the bed, reached for his laptop, plugged in the flash drive he had taken from the cave earlier and hesitated. For so long he had resisted the information he could have at his fingertips. For so long he had fought off the temptation to learn everything he could about her. He wanted to savor every moment with her, to discover her, to learn her, to get to know her, as normal people do. He enjoyed it. For the first time in a long time, he felt truly good. She brought a smile to his face in the most effortless way. He wished he could preserve this moment. He wished for the illusion of normality to last.

"Delusion… naive desires…" he opened the file folder once again confronting himself with his mistakes. "There is nothing normal about me or her. We are far from normal. I was a fool…" reaching agreement with himself, he dragged his finger over the first folder and opened the file. Her entire life unfolded before his eyes.

School. Family. Friends. Retained in a few words and pictures found in the government institutions' records. Date and place of birth, age, height, hair color, eye color, parents' names, birthmarks. An ordinary girl from a small town, with an ordinary life, a good life. "She was born in Europe…" he paused at the information, "then moved to Bludhaven when she was only a child. She never mentioned Bludhaven. Why?" He trailed his eyes over the story of her life. "She was hospitalized, twice…" he opened the hospital records, "a broken leg and arm the first time," the image of her climbing trees entered his mind, "and neurological problems the second…" he frowned seeing the date on the file, "she was so young." Minimizing the file littered with medical details, he returned to her story. Elementary school, high school, college, first job at a far too young age. "Computer sales…" he chuckled quietly seeing her picture in a blue polo with a company logo. She looked like a sweet, innocent girl to whom nothing bad could ever happen. He opened another folder filled with photos. Mountain trips with her parents, her first bicycle, an adorable biscuit golden puppy that surely brought her a lot of joy made him smile fondly. Graduation, her first boyfriend, the academic year inauguration, concerts, parties, her first martens and leather jacket, "rebellious," he scoffed amused. Each photo depicted her happy and smiling, full of joy and passion for life which he continued to see in her eyes despite the passage of years. "What happened then?" he clicked through a few more photos, screenshots from social networks when in love she posted heartfelt lyrics, photos where she smiled joyfully in her boyfriend's embrace, posts where she uploaded clips of Linking Park and Thirty Seconds to Mars in anger. As the years passed, darkness crept into her life but she seemed to retain her smile, especially in those moments when Harleen accompanied her. "How did you get here…" his nature and curiosity took over as he closed away the years of her youth to display her adult life. Happiness seemed to vanish as she stepped into adulthood. Maturity reached her too soon. "She fell in love again…moved out from home before she turned nineteen… moved away…" he swiped through not so distant facts, "traveled the world, worked abroad, got engaged…" he frowned pausing at the photo. One look was enough for him to know everything. She loved him dearly, he loved only himself. "Why did you end up with someone like that?" he moved through the records of her life and smiled involuntarily seeing how short the engagement lasted. She returned to Bludhaven, resumed work, bought a new car and "…suddenly disappeared…" he mused over the fragmented story. "What happened?"

*

High walls surrounded the compound on all sides obscuring the greenery where twelve young people trained fiercely in the brightness of the morning sun. Men and women, all dressed in military style sweatpants and gray T-shirts, divided in pairs punched, kicked, flipped and knocked each other to the ground.

"In combat, you cannot rely only on your supernatural abilities!" a tall, muscular man with thick but snow-white hair roamed the field peering at them with a sharp eye, "your abilities are your weakness! Your abilities are your disadvantage! The first thing your opponent will use against you!"

The blows fell one after another, brutal, painful, aimed deliberately and precisely, drawing blood and marking bruises, twisting joints and straining muscles. But they kept fighting. Someone grabbed his partner's arm hard, bent it in an unnatural direction breaking the bone with a snap. A cry echoed through the walls.

"Hesitation means death! Death is a mercy given to the weak and useless! You are meant to be strong! Better! We don't train you to fight! We train you to kill!"

You watched everything as a movie projected in front of your eyes. Faces contorted from pain, blood stained shirts, sore bodies and despair in the eyes of those who were praying for death.

"Attack to inflict pain!"

The bones in your body creaked opening long-forgotten injuries, wept in forgotten pain.

"Block to maintain the advantage!"

The pain pierced your muscles like a memory hidden beneath the surface of your skin.

"Strike to kill!"

A shudder ran through your body, convulsions twisted your insides as if trying to fight off the poison that seemed to consume you entirely.

"He trained us…" you whispered, "he was merciless."

The sun illuminating the greenery beneath your feet dimmed as the shadow surrounded you with a warm, soft veil.

"They wanted to make us into weapons…"

"I know," Morpheus spoke softly in an eerily human voice, "I was there. In every dream and every nightmare you have dreamt while being here."

"They promised help and guidance but instead tried to use us, weponized us against those they deemed a threat…"

"The pages of human history have been marked by many like them."

Someone broke under pressure allowing his emotions to take control of his body. Applying superhuman strength, he struck his opponent breaking his neck in the snap.

"No powers!"

"Apologies, sir," the man leaned his head as he put his hands behind the back to stand at attention, "it took over me."

"I have no interest in your apology," with a heavy slow step he approached the terrified man, "you are a soldier. Soldiers follow orders. If you are incapable of following orders you will be useless in the field." In one swift motion, he drew a narrow long sword from behind his back. The steel flashed in the sunlight. Blood gushed widely staining the green beneath their feet. The man fell inertly to the ground.

"No one touches him! Back to training!"

The blackness swirled around you while the golden particles danced as if carried by a nonexistent wind.

"Are you ready to move on?" Morpheus asked while watching your furious gaze.

"Yes, please."

*

"She disappeared…just like that she disappeared…" Bruce leaned back in his chair and stared at the computer screen. "No one disappears overnight." He opened the files again and carefully traced the events of her adult years convinced that he had missed a detail. He had not. The few clicks and fractions of a second required to run his computer's systems were enough to fill his mind with countless questions. "Jason left something out…" He typed her name into the system, combined it with facial recognition, and personal information to momentarily display endless information about her. All aligned with the ones on the flash drive, all merely confirming and duplicating facts he already knew. "Something is missing…"

A part of him didn't want to dig deeper, but it was too late to back out. It was in his nature to investigate, to find the truth, to look for the smallest, least significant details, to see things that others could not see, to piece together the tiniest facts into a previously unknown truth. He could not back down now.

With a few clicks he changed the scope of the search, typing in the names and details of her parents only to freeze in stillness once the computer displayed the results. His heart ached with pain but his mind understood.

*

The gold dust settled, the blackness thinned to reveal an environment so familiar to you, one that you so desperately didn't want to remember. The brown wallpaper on the walls you had long planned to replace, the brown rug under your feet that should have been vacuumed days ago, the warmth of the yellow ceiling light that could not hide the surrounding decay. You were home. A purple cashmere sweater hung on a hanger just as it always did. Funny pink slippers were placed at the entrance in the same place they always did. A pleasant scent of apples and cinnamon lingered in the air, barely covering the foul odor of sweat, sourness, and death that wafted through.

"I don't want to be here…" you whispered in a trembling voice as tears came to your eyes, "please…" you looked into his endless eyes but his sombre face remained unmoved, "please take me away from here."

"I will not do that," he replied in a stern but warm voice, "this is where it all started. This is where you need to be."

"I can't, I don't want to…" tears slipped down your face, "don't make me."

"I would not force you even if my power allows it," compassion reached from the depths of the universe, "there is nothing wrong with being afraid. There is nothing more human than to be afraid. You tried to control your fear, you tried to get rid of it. You have allowed him to exploit that," he extended an open hand to you, "the time has come for you to face your fear."

You took his hand and allowed yourself to be led down a narrow hallway toward a darkened bedroom. You wanted to close your eyes and not see death standing by the side of the bed. You wanted to close your heart and not feel the pain tearing your soul into a million pieces meant never to become whole again. You wanted to close your ears and not hear the weak voice you would never hear again. You wanted to run away but his cold, steady hand kept you close.

"Y/N?" your legs buckled under you at the sound of the forlorn voice. Your throat tightened painfully straining breath in your lungs, forcing tears into your eyes but you only exhaled deeply and forced a smile.

"Hey, Mom," you let go of his hand and walked over to the bed, "how are you feeling? Have you slept at all?"

"I'm better," she lied. Eyes veiled with fog, a tired face, and a limp body disappearing into the folds of the sheets betrayed more than you wished.

"Mom…" placing a hand to her forehead, you brushed away her sweat-damp hair. She was cold. So very cold, "I'll make you some tea. And I'll open the window for a moment, it's terribly stuffy in here."

"How was work?" she asked, continuing the game of pretend.

"As always, all good," you pushed aside a bowl filled with black and yellow liquid, "did you eat anything?"

"I can't stomach the food…"

"Mom you have to eat. You take morphine, you can't take it on an empty stomach."

"I can't eat…" she said weakly, " I vomit everything I eat."

You took her cold hand feeling as painful realization tried to extinguish hope. Hope that everything will be fine, hope that the next operation will fix everything, that you will travel over the sea next summer.

"Don't worry my star," she smiled faintly, "this will pass."

"I know Mom," you sighed heavily forcing a smile, "they just have to cut out that fucking tumor. I'm sure it's pressing on your stomach and that's why you can't eat. They'll cut it out and everything will be fine."

"Exactly," she wanted so badly to believe it, and yet something seemed to hide behind her eyes, "I need you to pack my bag and call an ambulance," she had never asked before.

"Something's wrong?" your heart leaped to your throat.

"I feel that I shouldn't have been discharged from the hospital. At least at the hospital, they would give me an IV."

"You're right. At least your body will strengthen before the operation. Wednesday isn't far away," you helped her up and held her steady making sure she would not lose her balance, "we need to change your pajamas."

"I don't think I'll be able to stand up," once strong and full of life she now seemed frail and weak, "call an ambulance. Get my papers ready. You can drop my bag off later."

"Got it!"

Even though it was only a memory you played your part just as intently as you did on that day, feeling everything just as strongly as before. Panic when she couldn't stand on her feet, worry when logic took over from false hope, determination when you gathered her things and helped her get dressed, composure when the paramedics helped her sit in the wheelchair and carry her out of the house for the last time.

"You'll see, they'll patch you up and you'll be dancing again," you smiled as you hugged her one last time.

"Drive home carefully," she uttered her last words of concern letting go of your hand and disappearing inside the ambulance.

You stood in the middle of the street for a moment watching the ambulance drive away. At the time, you still believed your words. At that moment, you rejected the possibility that it might end differently. Full of belief and hope, unaware of the nightmare that was about to come just two days later.

"I never saw her again…" you wanted to cry but couldn't. Locking your emotions deep inside you, you chose numbness. "She didn't get to live to have surgery. Two days later, at five-thirty in the morning, she died."

"People despair when Death comes for them, comes for their loved ones," Morpheus spoke softly, "They fear the Sunless Lands. They deny Death. I have always found it strange. It is as natural to die as it is to be born and yet some seem never to accept this fact."

"Death leaves scars that never heal," you countered, "it leaves a void that we desperately try to fill. We wonder if we could have done something more if we could have prevented it somehow."

"There was nothing you could have done."

"You're wrong," you glared at him angrily, "if only I had known how! If at that moment, I had known, understood my abilities! Maybe I could have saved her! Maybe I could have healed her! Maybe she would still be here!"

"It was her time."

"Fuck that! She was too young! She was supposed to be with me until old age! She was supposed to be with me when I would get married! When I would have children!" anger burned in you igniting your blood, "she should have been here!! But I was afraid! I was afraid of my abilities! I was afraid of the fact that I was different! I didn't understand! I tried to suppress it inside me! If only I wasn't afraid! Maybe she would still be here!!!"

"Your mother got what everyone gets. A lifetime."

*

A quiet knock at the door pulled Bruce out of his deep thought. For a moment he wondered if he had misheard. The night was deep, everyone in the house should already be asleep or at least pretending. But the knocking repeated itself. He didn't want to answer it. He regretted staying home instead of leaving for the city. He needed this moment to himself, he needed to think, he needed to be alone with his emotions and nothing was more conducive to thinking than the lights of Gotham scattered in the darkness of night like millions of stars in a black sky.

"I know you're awake," Dick's quiet voice came from behind the door, "I saw the lights on in your windows. May I come in?"

"You may," he replied reluctantly, convinced that even if he hadn't answered and given permission he would have barged into his bedroom anyway. Dick had no hesitation to invade his personal space. He didn't even manage to turn off the laptop screen and he was already closing the door behind him. Dressed in loose sweatpants and an old Gotham University t-shirt, he minced barefoot across the soft carpet and, if it weren't for his height, imposing build and two whiskey glasses in his right hand, he would have looked just like the kid whose years ago crept into his bedroom when he couldn't sleep.

"I thought you might need this," he smirked innocently placing the glass in front of him.

"You know I don't drink."

"A glass of good single malt to calm the mind never hurt anyone," he glanced involuntarily at the computer screen, "you read it."

"I did," Bruce pushed the glass aside and locked the screen before adding in a serious tone, "your investigation was incomplete."

"Oh, it was complete, trust me. We simply decided not to include certain details," Dick replied observing him closely, "you wanna talk?"

"No."

"You sure? Cos you kinda look like you do," he smirked.

"How's Jason?" a quick change of subject seemed at this point to be at best a failed attempt to slip out of an uncomfortable situation.

"He's asleep. Drinking more than half a bottle by yourself after an intense night of ass kicking and car chasing will do that to you."

"You got him drunk pretending that you're drinking," Bruce glanced at him with amusement in his eyes.

"Indeed I did!" he grinned, "he needed this more than I did. And pretending to drink after years of observing how you do it was way to easy."

"I'm glad he stayed the night."

"I'm glad you asked him to."

"He should move back in."

"You should ask him."

"I should."

"Maybe that's not the only thing you should do, If you know what I mean." Silence fell as their eyes met again. Bruce was struggling, Dick could see that clearly. Unused to talking about feelings, he needed it so much and at the same time shied away from it so much. Without a word, he grabbed a glass and, crossing the lavish bedroom, sat down in one of the large, comfortable armchairs, waiting for Dick to join him.

"Maybe I should…" he sighed as Dick sat down on the bed opposite him, crossed his legs and took a small sip from his glass. Despite having a quarter century behind him, he still looked uncomfortable drinking alcohol in his company.

"Take your time, we still have a few hours before dawn," he smirked.

Turning the amber liquid in his glass, Bruce merely stared at the moon outside the window silently informing him that he would rather be in the city right now, would rather chase villains through the dirty streets of Gotham, would rather glide between buildings, sit on the roof and listen for trouble than have to confront his own feelings.

"It won't light up, you are stuck with me," he quipped forcing his attention back to him.

"Am I that obvious?"

"To me, yeah you kinda are."

"I don't know what to do…" Bruce finally said fixing his gaze on him, "for the first time in a very long time I truly don't know what to do," he sighed heavily while warming the golden liquid in his hand then hesitantly took a tiny sip closing his eyes, "I fucking don't know what to do."

"You care about her."

"I do."

"And you are so in love with her."

"Love is just a brain chemistry. A mixture of norepinephrine, dopamine and…"

"Bruce, seriously? I swear if I keep rolling my eyes like this I'll totally get to see the back of my skull!" he snarled then added gently, "come on. Let's be real for a moment. I've seen you two together. Even you can't hide your feelings that well."

"My feelings for her don't matter," he sighed while his tired eyes grew dark, "and I know what you're going to say. I've heard you before. But what happened today is my fault. I should have stayed away from her but I didn't. I should have warned her, protected her, but I didn't. And it is because of me that she got hurt."

"A few scuffs and bruises, she'll be fine…" he paused seeing the expression of pain on his face, "Bruce, what happened earlier? What did you find in Crane's apartment?"

A moment of silence preceded the answer. A moment of long silence that screamed a thousand unspoken words and concealed emotions. A silence that Bruce needed and Dick was willing to give him. A silence of quiet understanding. A moment of support.

"He hurt her," Bruce finally said, as he set his glass down on the coffee table to stand up and walk to the window, "He violated her. Perhaps at first with her consent, her willingness, it had to be..." he trailed off recalling the scene, "but the fact is that in his apartment's air, I discovered chemicals sufficient to rid her of boundaries and alter her behavior." The recurring images caused him pain but he needed this moment of honesty. Dick was the only one he could talk to about it, the only one he could really open up to, the only one who really understood him. "I think they got close before Crane discovered the transmitter I gave her, before he became violent. I found a dent in the wall and traces of blood on the floor…"

"Bruce, you can't put this on yourself. I know it's personal but still, she made her own choices."

"I knew something was wrong about him. I suspected him for a long time. I knew they were close. She told me that," anger tinged his voice, "I should have prevented her from being alone with him. Instead, I drove them both to his house! To the house where he tormented people! To the house where he hurt her! I drove them and left them there!" he looked at Dick with anger burning in his eyes, "you want to know why?" Dick remained silent, "because I chose to do so. Because I deemed that her friendship with him was my best chance to find out the truth. To expose him! Because I chose to use her relationship with him to solve this case."

"I understand that you blame yourself, but…"

"I don't blame myself. I despise myself. I will never forgive myself for this."

"It wasn't you who put her in danger!"

"But I didn't do anything to stop her."

"Your presence in her life changes nothing. The situation with Crane would have turned out exactly the same if you hadn't been there. Probably much sooner. And it would have ended much worse."

"That doesn't justify the decisions I made."

"Bruce, you're only human. We all make mistakes."

"I made a cold calculation, I made a decision that led to her harm. This is not a mistake. These are consequences."

"And now what, you're going to distance yourself from her or push her away like you usually do?"

He remained silent.

"The situation is different. You can't ignore the fact that she's meta."

"She's not," Bruce denied immediately.

"She's not?

"I verified that theory when we were in Metropolis. Or rather, Clark verified it. Her abilities are most likely magical."

"Damnn!" Dick gasped, "well that's an even bigger problem. With metas we have some experience but we have never trained magic users."

"And we won't."

"You're right. We are definitely not equipped for that. Good thing we know at least three, maybe four people who are more qualified for the task than we are. Zatanna would be the best here, although Constantine has an advantage over her due to his wide range of abilities, but I know there's no way in hell you'd ask him for help. Doctor Fate is definitely the most powerful but he doesn't seem like a people person to me."

"We won't train her, period. Neither we nor anyone else.

"You can't be serious, Bruce!"

"I am."

"No, you're not! You're just a stubborn dumbass who can't deal with his own feelings!"

"Why does she keep getting into trouble…" he sighed as if to himself, "why can't she just let it go?"

*

The gold particles swirled and fell around you for the last time revealing a void in nowhere, a vast and infinite blackness in which the sky and the ground seemed to melt into one. You couldn't feel the ground under your feet, yet you stood firm. You didn't feel the wind blowing, yet your hair waved around your face. You couldn't see the sky above your head, yet the stars seemed to spread against it, shining as brightly as the ones in his eyes when he appeared right in front of you and gazed into your soul.

"Now you know everything. Now you know the truth," he spoke in a deep, low voice.

"I don't know whether I should be happy or sit down and cry…"

"This is what you wanted, is it not? This is what you desired."

"And now that I have it I don't know what to do."

"What you do depends only on you. Your feelings are yours, as are your memories and experiences that have been taken from you and now are yours again. Your decisions, whichever you make, will also be yours. So will their consequences."

"If that was supposed to comfort me then it failed," you scoffed.

"I am not here to comfort you Y/N. That is neither my function nor my role," the black of his eyes deepened, "still, you should find comfort in the fact that there are people in the Waking World who care about you. You are not alone as you seem to think."

"You know who he is don't you?" you asked certain that there was no need to say his name.

"I know."

"You've seen his dreams."

"He doesn't dream like ordinary people dream every night. His mind is highly trained to avoid distractions as he sees dreams. But, yes. I have seen his dreams, rare as they are."

"Who is he?" the question snapped out.

"That is not my truth to tell," a shadow of a smirk ran over his marble face, "trust yourself. Trust your instincts as you have trusted them so far, especially now. Now that your consciousness is free from corrupting influences."

"Trust yourself…" you repeated under your breath, "how can I trust myself when I have no idea what to do!"

"You do know. You simply have not understood it just yet," the depth of the universe seemed to see into the future, "when you wake up, you will know."

"Will I remember you this time?"

"I don't think you will."

"Why not?"

"Because your future must be in your hands. Yet I can assure you, we will see each other again." With a wave of his hand, the dream faded away and disappeared.

You opened your eyes abruptly, welcoming the full moon's cool glow peeking through your bedroom window once again. You knew what to do.

*

Dick walked over to Bruce to hand him the glass of amber liquid again, which he accepted gratefully. Lost in his thoughts, he took a small sip and gazed back at the full moon in the cloudless sky.

"You thought about telling her the truth," he stated with certainty.

"It crossed my mind."

"Why don't you do it then? Think how differently today might have turned out if only she knew the truth!"

"I won't bring her into this life."

"Knowing the truth, she would know the risks and how to react in a threatening situation! She would know what to do! Hell, even without it, she acted instinctively. The transmitter hidden in her arm was a bit insane but an impressive solution you gotta admit that!"

"There is nothing impressive about putting yourself in danger for the sake of satisfying some senseless need to do the right thing," he growled angrily.

"That didn't just come out of your mouth," Dick scoffed.

"It's different and you know it."

"How is that any different!"

"I was an angry kid balancing on the verge of a mental breakdown who desperately needed to find a purpose in life! You were the broken kid whose world came crashing down and who needed care and guidance to not end up like me! Jason, Tim, Damian…"

"You are failing to make a point."

"We were all angry kids who needed to turn their grief and anger into something meaningful."

"And she is an angry adult who has had her will and identity taken away and who needs to turn her pain and trauma into something meaningful…" Dick interrupted him harshly before adding gently, "age doesn't matter here."

"I won't do that. I won't do that to her…" turning his gaze away from Dick he gazed wearily at the sky, "she deserves better."

"Bruce, for someone of your level of intelligence you are behaving like a complete idiot!" it was high time to abandon gentleness and strike directly, "she doesn't need your say so, she doesn't need your guidance to find the way to achieve her goals. The fact that she joined Cadmus is the best proof of that!"

"We don't know that."

"Bruce!"

"Fine. We know that."

"She'll find out the truth sooner or later, and it would be better if she learned it from you."

"Perhaps she won't," he so adamantly refused to accept the facts, "maybe today's situation will make her turn back from this path. She will choose a normal life."

"You really believe that?"

"That would be better for her."

"Sorry but that decision isn't yours," frustration slowly rose in Dick, "just as it wasn't your decision that I created the mantle of Robin, just as it wasn't your decision that Jason would adopt it, it wasn't your decision that Tim found us. Those decisions were ours, not yours!"

"I should never have allowed that to happen."

"You should have understood long ago what kind of impact we have on people, what kind of impact you have on people. How you inspire those around you."

"I have condemned your lives."

"You gave us purpose, strength, inspiration, the will to fight! You gave us hope…" Dick grabbed him by the arm and looked at him like a son looks at his father, "it seems you are thinking that you have failed us, but you are wrong. Each of us would be lost without you. We are here because of you. I am here because of you. My life crashed and fell apart before my eyes, but you gave me a new one. You gave me a purpose, a home, a family."

"Dick I…" his voice broke.

"Bruce…each of us had our own reason for getting into this life. And yes, we were kids but you seem to forget how many of our friends started out as adults. Ollie, Dinah, John, Barry even Uncle Clark. They were all adults when they decided to take on their secret identities. It seems to me that she is on a straight path to the same thing. The question is whether you will be there to help her and guide her as you have guided many before her. Not just us."

"She's already asked me that…" he sighed.

"She did?"

"Last night, just before shootout in Bristol," he explained, "just like today she dropped that she wants to come with me. She said she wants to help. That she could do more. That I could teach her how."

"What are you wating for then? You found a woman who wants to be part of your life. Your whole life."

"It's not that simple…"

"It is very simple Bruce. You are just making this so fucking complicated with your misguided sense of morality. She's a good woman, honest and kind with a clear desire to do good. She's obviously into you and she is obviously drawn to Batman. What's so difficult about that?" he blocked the window forcing Bruce to look at him. "Some perverted idea in your head, a flawed perception of love makes you think that you can't be happy. That Batman can't be happy. That the mission precludes that possibility. But Bruce, you're not thirty anymore. You have surrounded yourself with family and friends who day by day are proving to you that it is possible. So if they can be happy why can't you?"

"I guess…" he hesitated, "I guess I am scared," he finished quietly. "I guess I am simply scared."

"Hey, remember what you used to say to us when Jason was a kid?" a bright smile spread over Dick's face. "It's okay to be scared. Everyone gets scared. Take it as an opportunity to fight that fear. As a chance to be brave."

A single tear glistened in Bruce's eyes as the pain on his face faded away overtaken by Dick's kindness. Perhaps he had not failed after all. Perhaps there was still a hope for him to have it all. He reached out and pulled Dick in a strong hug.

"Thank you my son. I needed this."

***

~~TBC~~

~~***~~ Author note: Phew! It's good to have this one finished, way too much angst am I right? But it was needed. A lot happened prior to that. We needed that moment of feels and emotions and struggles and all the angst in the world. I was hoping that I would get to the point in this chapter but as you see that did not happen. And I'm glad cos it would be twice as long. And I'll admit, it was really hard to write and even harder to edit. After eight years of working half-night shifts I switched my role at my company and suddenly I'm working regular nine to five. Let me tell you, my body is in shock and my sleep pattern is all over the place! But I am very happy with the change! Just gotta align my writing with my new reality, no more writing in the night. I'm starting to write the next chapter right away cos I know exactly what will happen. For now, I thank you for reading my Dear Reader and till the next time.

~~***~~ Tag list: @mrsgrahamsdesign @theclassicvinyldragon @blondwhowrites @batgirlspain @hangmanscoming @julesjewelss36 @cherryflavoredcoke @grandstrangerphantom @maripositanoctruna @pluckastarfromthesky @butterfly-lies-chase-them-away @pirate-with-internet-connection @ooldcardigan @amandarobertsboyce

#batman #batman x reader #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne imagine #batman x y/n #jonathan crane #scarecrow #batman imagine #batman fanfiction #batfam #nightwing #robin #batfamily #dick grayson #batman x you #bruce wayne x fem!reader #tim drake #batman x fem!reader #bruce wayne #dc comics #bruce wayne fanfiction #gotham

[aeoncss]

Hiiii I love your Mike content 😭💗!!! I was wondering if you could write headcannons about Mike developing a crush on the older sister of one of Abby’s friends? Like they meet at a school event or something </3 I can’t stop imagining him arranging sleepovers and stuff to see her shsssddsfs

hopelessly devoted | mike schmidt x fem!reader

a/n: this is SOO cute, thank you so much for sending in the request anon! <3

cw: guardian anxiety? mike being anxious, as always. some cute sibling / friend interactions. pining towards the end! not proof read bc my eyes hurt lmao.

after the events at freddy’s, abby was slowly coming out of her shell and making new friends — which made mike so incredibly proud, considering it was radio silence from her for so long.

he loved seeing her immediately run off to her small group of friends and acquaintances whenever he dropped her off for the day at school, seeing how happy she became.

when he went to pick her up one evening, abby had asked if one of her friends could stay over later in the week— begging mike to let her have a sleepover.

he was hesitant at first, still not quite over what happened at the pizzeria which made his paranoia spike, so he only agreed if he could meet her friend’s parents or guardian first.

which, led mike to abby’s friend — angelica’s older sister.

to you.

it was at a small school event. abby’s grade was putting together a small fair for the upcoming fall holiday, so a little harvest was in place. there were scarecrows, face paintings, quick crafts for the kids to enjoy, and overall just enough activities to keep both the parents and children happy.

abby pleaded with mike to go, asking him over and over for a week straight until he gave in and took a day off of work.

although he was happy that abby was having the time of her life — a smile stretched around a beautifully drawn butterfly across her lips and nose, mike couldn’t help but feel like he didn’t belong there.

he was her older brother, not abby’s parent. guardian, yes, but this wasn’t meant for siblings. it was meant as a bonding pair between parents and their child, and as the night progressed, mike was slowly beginning to feel worse.

of course, he was happy for his little sister. happy that she was getting out of her shell and running around everywhere with a giggle, but here he was — following behind with glares directed towards him, most likely from the incident back at the mall.

he hated the lingering eyes. the hushed whispers. it only caused his skin to trickle with anxiety and his tongue to bloat. he wanted out.

“mike!” abby shouted with a giggle, skipping over towards her big brother with her hand clasped in another. angelica came in tow next to her, her face decked out in some batman face paint.

“what’s up, kiddo?” mike questioned — looking down at the pair with a quirked brow.

the two girls before him shared another laugh before abby had turned around, pointing towards another figure standing alone by a small field of fake corn and hay.

“that’s angelica’s sister! you said if you meet her then we can have a sleepover!” mike’s younger sister beamed.

mike’s brows furrowed the more he looked at the absent stranger, his eyes focusing on the way her mouth seemed to contort into a frown, and that she kept glancing over towards angelica. from what he gathered, just to make sure she’s okay.

“…where are your parents, angelica?” mike had asked cautiously, looking down at the replicate-batman standing before him, who was plucking a piece of cotton-candy into her mouth.

angelica’s features softened as a shrug appeared across her shoulders. “i dunno. y/n takes care of me when they’re not home.”

abby budged in, little hands grabbing at his wrist to catch mike’s attention. “pleassseeee mike! you would be the best big brother ever!”

okay, now he can’t turn that down.

a sigh escaped his lips as he accepted defeat, smiling down at the two girls quickly before raising a hand to ruffle up abby’s curls. “okay, fine. i’ll go talk to her. but don’t go too far, okay?”

“okay!” abby and angelica shouted, immediately making a beeline towards a table that had supplies set up to make turkey-hand pictures.

as he watched the two girls run off, mike bit at the inside of his cheek, a hand moving through his hair. before he knew it, he was beginning to walk towards angelica’s older sister.

as he came within ear shot, he awkwardly cleared his throat — already hating the fact that he felt swarmed in social anxiety.

your eyes drifted over from where angelica hovered at the table, to now mike standing before you, a little surprise to your features. before you could speak, he was already taking the initiative.

“hey… you’re angelica’s older sister, right?” he asked tentatively, a little hesitation in his voice.

then you laughed, softly.

“yeah, yeah. i’m y/n, you must be mike?” you responded with a subtle smile, the exchange catching mike off guard.

“how do you..—“

“angelica loves to tell stories.” you grinned, looking down at your feet for a second, your eyes meeting together once more when you glanced back up. “and she tells me all the time about how she wants a sleepover with abby, but her big brother has to speak to me first.”

a laugh — a genuine laugh fell from mike as his shoulders shook slightly, lips contorting into a smile as he placed his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.

“yeah… sorry, it’s just a precaution.”

“don’t even worry about it. i get it.” you reassured, taking a quick look at your younger sister who was now holding up a picture of her magical turkey to show abby. you chuckled.

“uhm,” mike’s voice steered you away, pulling your attention towards him, “angelica said that you’re taking care of her right now..?”

he watched as you nodded, noticing the subtle purse of your lips as they tightened for a second, parting only shortly after.

“yeah— my parents are really busy, so i’ve been taking some time away from college to look after angelica.” you explained softly, rubbing at your arm gently.

“my dad’s a pretty hefty lawyer and my mom travels for work, so there’s no one else except for me.” you cleared your throat, putting on a small smile.

mike nodded, feeling a little guilty but at the same time, remorse and familiarity. you two weren’t in the same boat, but definitely shared some aspects.

“hey, i get it.” mike smiled, his voice soft despite the mantra of children yelling and laughing all around them. “just wanted to make sure you weren’t a serial killer or anything.”

that comment alone made a loud laugh spill from your lips, enough that you attempted to hide it with your hand — eyes glimmering towards him.

“absolutely not.”

since then, mike approved sleepovers — but only if they were at his place, still feeling a little iffy having abby at another persons house, but that paranoia slowly begin to die away the further mike was able to spend time with you.

you would drop angelica off on friday night, talking with mike at the door while angelica immediately threw her stuff down and bolted towards abby’s room.

“angie, you can’t just leave your stuff like—“ you tried to lecture gently, letting out a sigh when it became apparent that it was a lost cause.

mike looked down from where he held the door open, laughing at the small pile of clothes and toys now by his feet.

“i’m sorry—“

“don’t sweat it. they’re kids.” mike reassured with a chuckle.

when he looked back up to you, there was a pull he felt. like an inkling, almost.

“do.. you wanna come inside real quick? the weather is kinda nasty,” he asked, glancing behind you to see the cruddy rainstorm beginning to peak.

hesitation lingered on your features before a shrug danced off your shoulders. “sure, i don’t have anything else to do tonight.”

you weren’t expecting to stay longer than thirty minutes, so when you glanced down at your watch to see that you had stayed for almost three hours came as a surprise.

of course, abby and angelica blindsided you both and immediately wanted to play all these different games at once. dress up, cops vs. robbers, hide and seek. you were slumped after racing around the house for the umpteenth time, exhausted after finding angelica hiding in a freaking kitchen cabinet whilst playing hide and seek.

you fell back onto the worn couch in the living room with a sigh, wiping some sweat that gathered on the crown of your hairline. in your peripheral, you saw mike coming in from the kitchen with a water bottle, and you sighed happily when he handed it to you.

“thanks.” you beamed, grinning softly as you took a few swigs. “jesus christ, i forgot how energetic kids were.”

mike boasted a laugh, sitting down beside you with a grunt. “tell me about it. i didn’t think hide and seek could be that exhausting.”

“right?!” you laughed loudly, eyes widening as you looked over at him. “i remember hiding behind curtains and inside closets, not in the freaking kitchen cabinet?”

“abby somehow hid behind her desk. i don’t even want to know how that was possible.”

conversation felt easy between the two of you. even back at the harvest festival, where mike was afraid he was going to make a fool out of himself somehow, you were able to strip away that anxiety.

“hey… uhm, thanks for letting abby and angelica do this.” mike suddenly spoke, pulling you away from your thoughts. you glanced over to see him looking down at his hands that rested in his lap.

“abby’s had a hard time making friends until she met angelica, and i’m just— really happy she’s getting out, being a kid, you know?”

your heart clenched at his words, brows contorting into a sympathetic look as you smiled over at him softly.

“angelica doesn’t really understand why our parents are gone so often. every time she comes home, she gets all excited to see them and the disappointment on her face when she realizes that they’re not home is…” you trailed off, smiling sadly.

“i’m really glad angelica has abby. i don’t see the disappointment on her face anymore when she comes home. now, all she has are a bunch of stories of what the two of them did during school.”

the smile that graced mike’s lips caused your heart to thump — a sudden skip that surprised you. it caused his eyes to crinkle slightly, the smallest bit of a laugh falling through that made your heart race even further.

“i think,” you spoke out, not realizing that the words were spilling from your lips until you could hear yourself speaking, “that we should let them have a sleepover every friday.”

maybe it was because you wanted to make a tradition with abby and angelica.

or maybe it was because you wanted to see mike more.

your gazes met, and mike grinned, nodding his head.

“sounds like a plan to me.”

#sorry if the ending is a little rushed ); #also will go back and edit this later #just wanted to get it out there! #mike schimdt x you #fnaf movie mike #mike schimdt x reader #fnaf mike schmidt #fnaf mike #mike schmidt

[helpfandom]

Masterlist for Helpfandom

For 2023 Halloween event:

⚠️ Hazard Taffy- Bruce Wayne

Continuation of post above: Hazard Taffy-Bruce Wayne 2

🔪 Knife gummies- [Btas] Scarecrow

💌 Caramel Letters- Riddler [Btas]

👁 Sour eyeball candies- [Btas] Harley Quinn

🎃 Pumpkin pretzels- Harvey {Stardew Valley}

🌽 Candy corn- [Btas] Riddler

⚠️ Hazard Taffy- Handsome Jack

🦇Batman:🦇 [Big enough to have it's own masterlist.]

🐢TMNT Masterlist:🐢 [It got big enough I thought it should have it's own masterlist.]

🦔Sonic the Hedgehog Movie:🦔

Jimbotnik / Robotnik Alphabet Platonic

Vermillion: \/

Overview for Long Standing Fic of Stobotnik x Platonic Reader

Vermillion: Chapter 1: Chilling

Vermillion: Chapter 2: The Man

Vermillion: Chapter 3: Gay People Exist

Chapter 4:

🔪Texas Chainsaw Massacre🔪 1974/1986/2022

Bubba w/ a Teen Reader

💊We Happy Few:💊

200 follower event Yandere analysis

Yandere Platonic Guide

🐙Penguins of the Madagascar🐧

200 follower event yandere analysis! {NOT FINISHED}

🌲Camp Camp:🌲

David w/ Camper reader HC Platonic

⚗️Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood:⚗️

Envy w/ Chimera! Reader HC Platonic

Envy w/ Kawaii kid. HC Platonic

Envy w/ Cutsey S/O HC Romantic

🔫Borderlands:🔫

Zane Flynt HC Platonic

Fl4K HC Platonic

Calypso Twins HC Platonic

Calypso Twins w/ half-Sibling working with the Crimson Raiders. HC Platonic

Handsome Jack HC Platonic

Handsome Jack with a platonic one night stand kid HC Platonic

Handsome Jack and Nisha w/ Bio kid HC Patonic

⚠️ Hazard Taffy- Handsome Jack

TFTB Rhys w/ Teen HC Platonic

✨Glitter Force:✨

Rascal/Joker [Glitter Force] HC Platonic

Glitter Breeze vs. Rascal Versus.

Ulric w/ Child who Adores 'Villains' HC Platonic

❤️Not enough fics to be a category yet:❤️

Tinkerbell with a Reckless! Animal Fairy darling. HC Platonic

Ken [From the Barbie movie] HC Platonic

Jimbotnik / Robotnik Alphabet Platonic

Mitch Williams [Glitch Techs] HC Platonic

GLaDOS w/ test subject kid. HC Platonic

Sadou Maou w/ Foster Kid HC Platonic

Jack Frost w/ Runaway Teen HC Platonic

#platonic x reader #platonic yandere #yandere x reader #x reader #tw yandere #platonic #yandere #headcanon #yandere tmnt #yandere tmnt 2007 #platonic yandere batfam #yandere batfam #yandere batman #yandere borderlands #yandere rise of the guardians #yandere zane flynt #yandere btas #yandere fmab #glitter force #full metal alchemist #yandere full metal alchemist #yandere we happy few #yandere whf #whf #we happy few #Helpfandom's writing

[soapskies]

platonic/familial hcs for nolanverse jon with a shy, easily scared kiddo? :3

NOLANVERSE SCARECROW WITH A SHY CHILD ☺︎

MALE READER. SHORT PLATONIC/FAMILIAL HCS.

He finds it amusing how terrified you are of everything, whether it’s creepy crawlies, the dark, or other kids, and your shyness as endearing. Even him interrupting the silence startles you.

Sometimes he likes to pop up out of nowhere to see you jump, that is, if you can handle it

If you’re prone to crying he’ll always be there with a warm hug and a kiss on the forehead

He likes that you’re quiet, like he was as a child, but he constantly worries that you might not be coming to him with your needs

He’s always asking you if you’re okay, if anything is bothering you

He offers you comfort when you need it, whether that’s soothing words or physical affection, though it may take some getting used to for him.

He likes to mess with your hair whenever you’ve had a nightmare, if you’re okay with it

Jonathan tries to encourage you to face your fears, but doesn’t push you on it

He never wants to make you feel as if you aren’t as strong or capable as the other boys, and lets you know that you’re shyness makes you far more tolerable to him than most children.

#scarecrow x child reader #jonathan crane x child reader #jonathan crane x reader #scarecrow x reader #jonathan crane x male reader #scarecrow x male reader #platonic x reader

[sdvbee]

we fell in love in october ;; haley x reader

summary: haley has been avoiding you, and you don’t know why. relationship: haley x female reader word count: 2.4k read on ao3!

✧༺♥༻✧

You would be lying to yourself if you said that you didn’t think Haley was the prettiest girl you had ever seen. With her curly golden locks and sparkling blue eyes, she was easily the star of the valley, and of your heart. When you first moved into the small oceanside town, she’d been nothing short of rude to you. Nothing outwardly mean , necessarily, but every interaction was made up of short remarks and passive-aggressive compliments. “Nice makeup. Wait... Are you even wearing any?” “Don't you get tired of running around on that farm all day, or whatever it is you do? I couldn't stand getting all dirty like that.”

Luckily, you were not one to back down so easily. You were used to mean girls, and you had learned long ago that being sickeningly nice to them usually did the trick. Besides, something about Haley struck you. Was she rude? A little bit. But you could tell there was something else there, something more. Some days you’d see her out taking photos around town, sometimes making her sister model for her.

So you gave her gifts. Coconuts you’d found in the desert, a slice of pink cake, a pretty sunflower from the farm. Each time she seemed surprised, but she softened a little bit more. You felt that you were making progress, albeit slowly. As mean as she was, you wanted to be her friend. 

You’d heard around town about the things she and her sister Emily had gone through. They had been on their own for the past two years as their parents “traveled the world.” Apparently, they had never been around much before that anyways. You couldn’t help but feel bad for them. While they were both adults–Haley 21 and Emily 24–it couldn’t be easy to be without your parents for so long. And it wasn’t an excuse for Haley being so mean, but maybe it was an explanation.

You were taking your usual afternoon walk around Pelican Town. It was a brisk fall day, perfect to see all the foliage the seaside town had to offer. You had only been there for a few months, but you only needed a day to fall in love with the area. You were starting to understand why your grandfather loved it so much there.

As you strolled, the leaves crunching under your feet, memories began to flood back to you. Memories of visiting the farm as a child, of jumping in leaf piles and making scarecrows. Thanksgivings hosted in the old farmhouse– they were never large. You had no cousins, so holidays were always just you, your parents, and your grandfather. The attendance may have been small, but the company was good, and he always made enough food for ten times the amount of people that were there.

You wondered if you ever came across any of your now-friends as children. You always stayed on the farm, but perhaps one time you’d seen sisters playing in the town square, a girl reading under a tree, two boys and a girl playing in the river, a girl doing some kind of science project…

As you walked around the area of Marnie’s ranch, you were stopped by the sound of crying. Frowning, you started to approach the noise. As you rounded a tree, you saw the source of the noise: Haley, sitting on the dock by the small pond. Her face was in her hands, and her shoulders were shaking. She seemed to be trying to quiet her sobs, but to no avail.

“Haley?” You called. Immediately, she tensed up and the cries stopped. You walked down the length of the dock quickly, wood creaking. Just as you got close, she wiped her eyes and looked up at you. Mascara streaked down her pink cheeks, her eyes were red and puffy, and her hair was a mess.

“H-Hi,” she said, her voice shaking.

“What’s wrong?” You sat down beside her. She sniffled and wiped her cheeks. Black makeup stained her fingers, and she let out a laugh when she looked down at her hands. “You don’t need to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

For a while, you were both quiet. You weren’t going to make her speak, and at the moment it seemed like she didn’t want to. Haley stared at her feet, her breath still shaking as she tried to calm herself down. You knew that feeling too well; when you’re finished crying but you still can’t seem to breathe properly.

You don’t know how long the two of you sat there for, but soon there was a chill in the air. The warm afternoon was fading away. The only sounds were the wind whistling through the trees and squirrels running through the leaves, no doubt stockpiling for the bitter winter ahead. You had to do the same thing this time of year. It was one of the most important things your grandfather always told you he did: fall is the time to prepare for winter. Grow extra wheat for the animals, extra food for yourself so you don’t starve. Save up for some nice heaters for the barn and coop. 

Haley shivered beside you. You looked at her, noting the way goosebumps raised on her smooth skin. Without a second thought, you shed your jacket and placed it on her shoulders. She murmured a soft thanks.

“It’s getting dark out,” you noted. This time of year was sad, for it got dark far too early for your liking. If you had to guess, which you were quite good at from time spent outside, it was barely even five o’clock. “Do you want me to walk you home?”

“Yes, sure,” she whispered. One of only three things she had said to you since you arrived. You stood up and offered her your hand. She took it and stood up. You couldn’t help but notice how cute she looked in your jacket. It was a warm one, meant for farming on cold days like this. It was dirty and stained. You’d think Haley would take it off with a, “ugh, gross” , but to your surprise, she pulled it tighter around her.

The short walk to 2 Willow Lane was filled with more silence. Haley didn’t say a word, but she didn’t need to. You knew that she appreciated your presence. She showed it by taking your hand and giving it a light squeeze. When you got to her door, she shed your jacket and handed it back to you.

“I’ll see you soon, okay?” You breathed.

“Okay.”

You didn’t talk to Haley again for a while after that. Every time you saw her, she seemed to avoid you. At the Spirit’s Eve festival, she stayed close to Alex the whole time, and when you said hi, she only gave you a brief “hey” back. Why she was avoiding you, though, you didn’t know. You sensed it had something to do with that afternoon by the lake and why she was crying. 

Fall turned into winter, and the sun began to set even earlier. Darkness fell over Pelican Town by four o’clock, a far cry from the seven o’clock sunset of the summer months. Your livestock stayed inside their respective barns and coops, so you could no longer even wake up to their sound in the mornings. Due to the cold weather, you fell into a routine much more dull than your usual one. Walks around town became few and far between.

Often, you found Haley at the forefront of your mind. You rarely saw her anymore, but that didn’t stop her blue eyes and her laugh like a chime from plaguing your thoughts. You missed her, you’d admit, but there was nothing you could do. She didn’t want to see you, it seemed, so what could you do about it?

You weren’t a fan of the snow, so you had largely been trying to avoid leaving the farm. But you really needed a silo built, so you found yourself trekking up to Robin’s carpentry shop. After placing the order, you figured you might as well just walk through the town. Pelican Town was always pretty, but the lights wrapped around the lampposts made it even prettier this time of year. You moseyed along the walkways, humming softly to yourself as you admired the lights. 

Then you saw her. Haley was standing outside of Alex’s house, giggling with him as he tossed his gridball up in the air. He was saying something–knowing him, probably something dumb–and Haley was laughing. Her cheeks were glowing from the cold, and her eyes sparkling with laughter. Your mother always told you that jealousy was a parasite, one that would find its way into your heart and burrow itself there. Now, you knew you had been infected.

You turned on your heel and went back to the farm.

Winter dragged along, but before you knew it it had been a year since you first moved to Pelican Town. On the morning of the first day of spring, you found a note stuck to your door:

Farmer (Y/N),

Come to the community center at 3PM!

Excitement bubbled up in your stomach. You had recently finished renovations on the community center, and you were beyond thrilled that it was going to good use. In the past year, you had seen so many improvements made on the town, entirely thanks to you. Your hard work had not gone to waste, it seemed.

You spent your morning cleaning out the farm, then headed to the community center at three. To your surprise, the lights looked like they were off. You frowned and opened the door, peeking your head in.

“Hello?” You called. As the words left your lips, all the lights turned on. The interior was decorated with various balloons and streamers, and there was a table full of food in the center. On the wall, there was a big banner that said: HAPPY ANNIVERSARY!

“Surprise!” Everyone yelled. You laughed in disbelief as you looked around at your friends and neighbors, those you had come to know and love over the past four seasons of your life. Around you, you saw everyone in town. Even Haley, who was currently avoiding all eye contact with you. Your heart sank a little, but it quickly rose up again when Alex ran over to you, hugging you tightly and lifting you in the air.

“Happy anniversary!” He yelled. “Can you believe it’s been a whole year since you moved here?!”

“We wanted to throw you a party to thank you for everything you’ve done for us,” Emily said, having appeared beside you. “You really saved this town.”

Over the next hour or so, you spent time talking to each and every one of your neighbors. Never in your life had you felt more appreciated and loved than in that moment. Everyone thanked you over and over again, but the one person you wanted to see was nowhere to be found.

“Hey, have you seen Haley?” You asked Emily. She was sitting in the little library section, talking and laughing with Caroline, Jodi, and Robin.

“I think I saw her go outside to get some fresh air,” Caroline said. Emily agreed with her, so outside you went. There, sitting on a park bench, was Haley. She was holding a daffodil in her hands, twirling it. Clearly, she was deep in thought. 

Quietly, you walked over to the bench and sat beside her. “Hey, Haley.”

“Oh, hey,” she said. She didn’t look up at you. You let out a sigh.

“Why are you avoiding me?” You asked, point-blank. She perked up and, finally, for the first time in months, looked you in the eye.

“I-I’m not avoiding you!” She said quickly.

“Really? Because this is the first time you’ve looked me in the eye since–since that time by the lake in Cindersap Forest,” you said. She didn’t look upset before, but she did now. Haley was never the type to cry in front of people, but tears were filling her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I-I just, I…”

“You can tell me what’s wrong,” you urged. “If I did anything, I want to know.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” she said. “I promise.”

“Then what is it?”

For one nostalgic moment, you were both silent. After what felt like an eternity, she spoke. Her voice was shaking, and she had since looked back at the daffodil in her hands.

“I-I’ve always been so confident in myself, and who I am,” she explained. “My whole life, I’ve known who I am. In high school, I was a popular girl. Was I a little mean? Sure, but I think all teenage girls are. I had friends, even boyfriends. I have never once questioned myself until I met you. You’re just so…ugh!”

“You don’t like me?” You asked, heartbroken.

“No! God, no. I don’t not like you. That’s not it at all. I just…” she sighed. “For my entire life, I’ve dated men. But I don’t think I have ever been attracted to them. I’ve never felt about my boyfriends the way I feel about you. And you’re not even…you’re not my girlfriend. I’ve been avoiding you because I’m afraid, (Y/N). I’m afraid of how you make me feel.”

For a moment, it felt like the world stopped spinning. Time slowed to a complete stop. The only people that existed, at that moment, were you and Haley. You didn’t know what to say. All you could do was sit there, mouth open in shock. 

“I love you,” she said softly. Tears threatened to spill out onto her cheeks. You cupped her cheek with your hand and, instead of responding, you kissed her. She seemed shocked for a moment, too frozen to reciprocate, but after a minute she melted into it. Her lips tasted like strawberries, and her skin smelled of coconut and jasmine. She was soft, softer than you could have ever imagined, and you realized you loved her back . 

You had loved her all along. You loved her soft golden hair and her sparkling blue eyes, you loved her laugh like a chime and all those snide remarks she made to you when you first met. Even though she hadn’t spoken a word to you in two months, you loved her.

You pulled out of the kiss, pressing your forehead against hers. 

“I love you too, Haley.”

#haley stardew valley #stardew valley #stardew valley x reader #stardew valley fanfiction #haley sdv x reader #haley stardew valley x reader #haley sdv #bee's fics

[bangsinc]

🎃BTAS!Scarecrow Headcanons🎃

X Reader included!

Jonathan is a ‘cold and unfeeling’ man, on the outside that is. Despite his incessant need to show others how terryfing he is, he is awfully sentimental. He’s the kind of man to cry over a children’s picture book if it truly strikes a chord with him. The same could be said if you do simple gestures for him

I’d like to imagine that he’s a ‘Tea and heated blanket, maybe with a book’ kinda guy. It’s the comfort that gets to him, truly.

He’d keep copies of his favorite books at Arkham. Now, since this is BTAS, Arkham still mistreates everyone, but I can imagine they allow certain things into the inmates cells to keep them feeling a little more human. His favorite book is Dantes Inferno, because to him it’s a perfect example of fear encapsulated in one man’s mind. Go off, cornball.

He had a pet, once, back when he was a professor. She was an old kitten, who he’d kept with him since he was a child. She’s a black cat that’s missing part of her ear, and her name is Jessicat, which leads into the next headcanon.

All of his pets have a corny pun name. He has multiple, yes. Canonically he has a singular crow named Crowford, and he thinks it’s the funniest thing.

Most scarecrow x readers often veiw scarecrow as like, your protector but.. this man couldn’t save his ass let alone someone else’s. Yes, he would live and die for you, and do it over and over again, but he’s touch starved and lonely. He doesn’t expect it or demand it, but he’s the kinda guy to need to be comforted by his significant other all the time. Jonathan or Scarecrow he wants to feel cared for.

He’s good friends with Harley Quinn due to their shared position. Yes, it’s canon their friends but.. *sets off a smoke bomb and runs away*

Before joker fucking destroyed Gothams television, Jonathan and Edward would watch documentaries and discuss them. Now, Arkham didn’t have any services other than cable, and since there was always a fight on who got to watch what.. they hardly did enjoy spending time like that.

Shakes sometimes. Mostly an anxiety thing.

This is all I have for now. If you have a request please tell me! Dms are open, I think.

#btas jonathan crane #btas x reader #btas batman #btas #batman #scarecrow x reader #new account #lol #Bangs x scarecrow canon #btas scarecrow #btas scarecrow x reader #btas Jonathan crane x reader

[masteroffearshusband49020]

Potential pregnancy: Arkham Knight Scarecrow x AFAB!GN!reader

"So... I've thought long and hard about this... and I don't want to do anything right now, but... at some point... I want to have your child, John." You told him as you held his hand. Your stomach turned as you saw the wide eyed look on his face. He hesitated to speak before sighing. He held your hand in both of his.

"Listen... I... I'm beyond flattered... really... it's just... Well, look at me. I'm a man who... am I even a man anymore?..." He wondered out loud. Before you could object, he shook his head and resumed, "I terrorize the citizens of Gotham for a living. I need to for research, and if a child were to get caught up in that- if our child were to get caught up in that, I... I'd never forgive myself... I don't think I could ever be a father... but if I... at some point... maybe. It's not a yes, it's not a no, it's a maybe, just... give me time to think..." He told you.

~~~

The good ending:

"Y/n, I... I was thinking... maybe it... maybe it's time for me to stop... to retire the Scarecrow... I... I think I'm ready to settle down and... start a family..." He told you, holding your hand in his. Your eyes lit up. You couldn't help but grab him and hold him as tightly to you as you could. For the first time since he came back from Arkham, he smiled.

The real ending

You sat by Jon, watching what was on the TV, but not really listening. Suddenly a sort of children's charity add came on. Something about it really peaked Jon's interest. He pointed at it and looked at you.

"Us!... Us!..." He managed to say.

"What do you mean?" You asked him softly. The spark in your eyes had been gone ever since he returned to you like this. It saddened him. Seeing that sadness on your face muted his expression. He slowly shifted closer to you and placed his hand where your womb was on your belly. He rubbed you gently.

"Baby... family... want..." He managed to let out. The words brought you to tears. Could he even manage to father a child like this? He just came back and now that there was a strong possibility he couldn't care for a child, he wanted one. You couldn't suppress your sobs at the thought. He looked on at you, distraught.

"Y/n...?" He choked out trying not to cry too. You hugged him tightly, unable to speak. Not really knowing what else to do, he hugged you back.

#jonathan crane #scarecrow #arkham knight jonathan crane #arkham knight scarecrow #jonathan crane x reader #scarecrow x reader #arkham knight jonathan crane x reader #arkham knight scarecrow x reader #jack writes

[phobia-sweets]

Hope you don't mind but can ya write Arkham-verse Scarecrow & Riddler with S/O who was a former Arkham Security Guard before they fell for them and later joined them?

after this is posted i'm rewarding (actually punishing) myself by playing iron banner

Arkhamverse! Riddler & Scarecrow x reader

Warnings / Notes: uhhhhhhhhh captivity is briefly mentioned lol and riddler is a lil bitch

SCARECROW

- Before the croc incident, Many guards avoided dealing with Jonathan more than was necessary. He knows how to get under people’s skin, he doesn’t need his toxin to scare people. People that had dealt with him in the past knew this. The Toxin just made his job easier, more effective.

- So guards took turns dealing with him so that no one had to be with him too much. Especially after he managed to poison his doctor with fear toxin he disguised as cologne.

- But you found him intirguing. Fear is a strong motivator. You knew this, working as a guard – A lot of them would try to scare patients into obedience, which worked. It obviously didn’t work on Jonathan, which frustrated some of the guards. Your approach with him was more polite, if anything.

- But it was just that all hell broke loose on arkham island when you were sick at home. You wouldn’t have even known about it if it wasn’t for the news being all about it. Of course word came from your coworkers that Crane was nowhere to be found, but a bag of his toxin and mask was laying in the sewers, where croc was. You assumed the worst.

- As far as everyone was concerned, The scarecrow – Jonathan Crane was dead. Until he showed up, his face replaced by burlap and thread.

Hiding behind barrels of what you presumed were fear toxin, you held your breath. Your colleagues always said your curiosity would be the death of you. It surely started to seem that way as you listened to Jonathan Crane’s gravelly voice as he talked to someone – a soldier? He didn’t seem the type to work with soldiers. But then again, it’s been quite a long time since he ‘died’.

“May I help you?”

In your panic, you hadn’t heard the soldier leave and footsteps approach you. Looking up, you were met with blank, milky eyes and the sight of four needles attached to a gauntlet. You’d admire the craftsmanship if it weren’t for the fact that they were dangerously close to your face.

- Were you drugged? Probably. You don’t really remember.

- what started out as captivity turned into you helping around in Gotham before his announcement of, well, feargassing Gotham.

- When did feelings join the equation? A bit before halloween. Did you make them known? Not exactly. Jonathan didn’t seem like the person to bother with feelings that weren’t fear or terror. But you swore you could catch him quietly chuckle at some of your quips or comments.

RIDDLER

- You were probably one of the only people that actually bothered with his riddles – whether you got it wrong or right, you would try to answer them. ‘Maybe it’ll keep him off my skin’ you thought. It did not.

- If anything, it made him bother you even more. If you got them wrong, he’d obviously insult you, but if you got them right…? He would compliment you as if you were a stupid child. Very demeaning.

“Mr. Nygma, I’ve brought you your food.” You said nonchalantly, setting the tray on a table. Nygma quite often refused to eat in the cafeteria – said something about being surrounded by complete morons and how he could feel his braincells dying the more he had to spend time in there. So, As you seemed to be the only guard that didn't care about his insults on your intelligence, you volunteered to be the one to bring him his food. Arkham wasn’t exactly known for bending to the patient’s wills, but as much as Edward wouldn’t attack you, no one wanted to listen to his insults.

“I have billions of eyes, Yet I live in darkness. I have millions of ears, yet only four lobes. I have no muscle, yet I rule two hemispheres. What am I?” Edward’s voice echoed.

“Ah, the… the human brain? Right?” You guessed, facing to look at edward. He simply gave a quiet “hmph.” And resumed reading his book. Turning around, you left.

-time skip to when either he escapes or you helped him escape. Why did you help him? Not even you knew how or why, but you fell for him. Hard.

- Trying to see if he felt anything towards you was hard. Especially since he would avoid answering some of your questions and being… well, himself, with his riddles and big words.

- When you began actively helping him with placing his trophies around Arkham city, bringing him whatever tools he needed, he seemed to start… relaxing in your prescense? Atleast he wasn’t as irritated in your prescense as he was before. A good sign, hopefully.

#arkhamverse scarecrow x reader #arkhamverse riddler x reader #jonathan crane x reader #the riddler x reader #scarecrow x reader #edward nygma x reader