#Batman villains x reader

[madame-fear]

You: I love murder mysteries! Jonathan , trying to impress them: I've been a suspect in four murder cases.

[batman-dc-imagines]

Rogue: why do you think i don't like you? i do. i would kill for you.

Rogue: ask me to kill for you.

(Reader):…

(Reader): first of all, calm down—

[innammoratta]

Edward Nygma x Reader x Harvey Dent - Part One

(Just for fun.)

"Checkmate!" Your roommate exclaimed with an exciting smile, even though he had just won three times in a row. Edward always beat you and now, you hardly bothered to put effort into winning. Honestly, the only reason you played at all was because it was his favorite game, other than riddles.

You both sat in the living room of your guys' apartment, next to a small stack of board games that Edward had laid out. This was something that had been incorporated in your night routines, unless one of you were too tired to play.

"You're smart, but your intellect is no match for mine," he teased.

"Pfft. I don't really care. There's plenty of things I could beat you at."

"Oh? Like what?" he smirked.

You thought for a moment. "Wrestling. I could easily take you down."

Edward chuckled as he continued the stare down match you both were having.

Suddenly, your phone rang.

Without breaking eye contact, you grabbed your phone off of the coffee table and answered. "Hello?"

Edward felt his heartbeat quicken. Right now everything was perfect. The sound of raindrops tapping on the windows created a cozy atmosphere, especially when combined with the dimmed lights and warm tones of the apartment. This was his favorite pastime, especially now that he was playing with you,  

"Oh, hey, Harvey."  

When Edward first met you, you were patiently sitting in the corner of the GCPD. The sad look on your face prompted him to talk to you, and of course he began the conversation with a riddle. Although shy and reserved, you managed to answer correctly, and after a few more, you had Edward's interest.

"Tomorrow? At six o'clock?" You broke eye contact and began staring at the hardwood floor in thought.

Edward found out that you had been arrested after getting caught shoplifting. You justified yourself, saying that you had only stolen food. You were hungry, but had no money. Edward further pried into your life and living situation and eventually decided to take you under his wing after finding out that you were sleeping in an abandoned building. He pleaded with the Chief of Police to let you go and argued that they were wasting time arresting you when there were psychopaths and murderers running all over Gotham. The Chief agreed and let you off with a warning, and ever since then, you had been living at Edward's apartment in Gotham with a job that you loved.

"Yeah, that works for me." You smiled, dreamily.

Edward frowned. You seemed to be smitten with the District Attorney.

"Okay, see you then." You hung up and put your phone back on the table.

"What's happening at six o'clock?" Edward immediately asked, feeling apprehensive.

"I'm going on a date."

Edward felt his heart sink. He was in love with you, but you didn't know it. He wanted to tell you but he never had the right time or the courage. "With Harvey Dent? Where are you going?"

"Yes, and to see a movie," you answered, beginning to put away the chess board and pieces.

"What movie?"

"I don't know, he said it would be a surprise."

Edward stayed silent, feeling anxious.

"Are you okay?" It was rare for him to be this quiet.

"Yes, I feel perfectly fine. I'm think I’m going to sleep now. I have to work late tomorrow." He looked so sullen.

"Oh. Well, goodnight." You watched in confusion as he abruptly stood up.

He stopped and turned around, faking a smile at you before heading into his room. “Goodnight.”

-------

Moving as fast as you could, you added all the finishing touches to your hair and makeup. Going to the movies wasn't a dressy occasion, but you liked Harvey and wanted to look your best.

You walked up to the full length mirror for the last time, inspecting yourself from head to toe. It was almost six o'clock and Harvey would soon be coming to pick you up. Feeling way too anxious, you walked out into your living room and began straightening up the pillows on the couch, trying to make the apartment look more presentable.

Someone knocked at the door and your heart raced. Harvey was here. You walked over the door and opened it to reveal... "Ed? I thought you had to work late?" You let him in.

"Yes, but the GCPD wasn't as busy as usual today. What a convenience that you're still here! I forgot my key and thought I might have to stay outside until you came back."

"Yeah..." You stepped outside for a moment, looking around until you spotted Harvey's car in the distance. You hurried back inside, shutting the door and waiting beside it, nervously.

Edward noticed your outfit and frowned. It was his favorite outfit on you and he couldn't stand that you were wearing it for someone else. "Are you wearing that?"

You looked up at him in concern. "What's wrong with it?

He shook his head. "Oh... uh... nothing. I'm sorry I mentioned it."

You looked down at your clothes, inspecting them, then quickly ran back into your room to change. It was just as Edward had planned.

He took off his jacket and hung it on the coat rack, then peeked out the window to see Harvey just outside. Edward ran over to the door, opening it just in time to see Harvey's arm awkwardly hanging in the air with his hand in a fist, about to knock. Harvey let his arm drop back down to his side, slightly frowning as he looked Edward up and down, obviously wondering who the man in your apartment was. " Is (Y/N) here?"

"Yes, she is." Edward forced a polite smile, blocking the doorway.

"Well, could I come in?"

"Of course," Edward replied. But he still just stood there, making Harvey uncomfortable.

"Today?"

Edward moved aside and motioned for Harvey to come in, closing the door once they were both inside. Harvey was overdressed, still in one of the suits that he wore to work everyday.

"So, Mr. Dent," Edward began as he clapped his hands together. "It's awfully close to dinnertime to be calling on (Y/N), don't you think?"

Harvey deeply inhaled. "I don't smell anything cooking."

Edward did his best to hold in a glare. "It's frozen."

"Well, don't worry about it," Harvey crossed his arms, smiling in amusement. "I'll get her something."

"So just how long will you be gone?" Edward copied him, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. "(Y/N) and I have some important things to do."

Harvey quietly scoffed and frowned. "Who are you? Her brother?"

Edward was about to reply when suddenly you appeared, wearing a new outfit. The color brought out your kind and innocent eyes. But it didn't matter what you wore, you were beautiful and Edward wished he was the one you were dressing up for.

"Hey, Harvey." You smiled shyly as you walked into the room.

"Hello, (Y/N). You look great." Harvey greeted you with a quick kiss on the cheek, causing Edward to lose his composed expression and contort his face in disgust. Harvey didn't mind. In fact, he seemed to be ignoring Edward at this point.

"Well, shall we go?" Harvey opened the door and smiled warmly at you.

"Uh.. yeah!" You turned around momentarily to wave goodbye to Edward. He waved back, smiling longingly as he watched the man drag you away. He felt so alone already, but he knew he wouldn't be for much longer. He had planned your entire date.

-------------

You and Harvey returned, disappointment written on both of your faces.

"Wow, back so soon?" Edward faked concern. Once you were inside, he tried to close the door before Harvey could follow, but Harvey pushed it open, giving Edward a threatening look.

"Yeah, the theater was closed," you replied. "When we pulled in, the police were everywhere. They said there was a dead body found inside and apparently the dead body belonged to a man involved in one of Harvey's cases. So... they need him to report to the police station as soon as possible." Harvey helped you take off your jacket and then hung it up.

"Oh, how disappointing." Edward turned around for a moment, struggling to contain his mischievous smile.

"Well, regardless, I still enjoyed tonight." Harvey took your hand and smiled. "I'm going to head out now, I hope we can reschedule."

"Definitely." You opened the door for him. "Feel free to stop by anytime."

"Yes, feel free to stop by anytime." Edward repeated, walking up next to you in the doorway so that Harvey could see him. "We're always here."

Part Two

[riddle-me-ri]

❤️Various Batman Rogues❤️ Masterlist

This is a masterlist of all my writings that include a multiple number of Batman Rogues in one post. These are mostly headcanons and short-hand scenarios. 

Key: 🔞 - means that the work contains smut and/or other adult themes

- Batman Rogues React to Reader Asking Ridiculous Questions (pretty much crack)

-Batman Rogues Ask Reader to Leave Cause They’re Too Pretty and Distracting

- BTAS Dork Squad and BTAS Penguin React to an Overly Affectionate Reader

- BTAS Dork Squad and BTAS Penguin Engagement and Wedding Headcanons

-BTAS Dork Squad Comforting Reader from Work Stress

-BTAS Dork Squad + Penguin - Ass, Tits, or Thighs?

[jar-of-ectoplasm]

erm guess what freaks i'm getting WAY too crazy about batman villains yet again so ask me about them sfw or nsfw i don't give a DAMN!!!!! i just need ideas

love u lots xoxo

[hana-no-seiiki]

Idk, I really can't think of anything good. Maybe some jealousy and possessiveness?

Or some fluff? The idea of ​​the two of them being on the roof of some building just-.

But I also find the idea of ​​Reader having a habit of entering into the Batboys' rooms tempting.

Do what you like the most,

YANDERE! DAMIAN WAYNE x CAT VILLAIN READER

“Hey~”

You sang as you laid on your side. The light from the dozens of candles you placed across Damian’s room subtly illuminated your form. Rose petals equally littered the area.

“You.” Damian cursed himself in his head. He was frozen to the ground. The tremble in his voice was something he could only pray for you to ignore.

“Mm, me.” You stuck your tongue out, licking some chocolate off of your fingers. “Welcome back home, Da~mie.”

“How did you get into my room?” Damian tried his best to appear threatening or even disapproving at the very least. Anything to hide his excitement.

“Alfred let me in.” You answered nonchalantly, patting the area in front of you as a beckoning gesture, “The cool old guy, not that little feisty one.”

Damian fought the urge to acquiesce to your whims and stood still. “I saw you. I saw you and Jason together last night.”

“Did you get a good view?” A small part of you felt bad that Damian saw you do the hanky panky with Jason, but it wasn’t your fault the man was so insatiable when it came to you.

“You used to date Dick, you regularly engage in filth with Todd, and Drake won’t stop talking about you it’s so obvious he’s smitten. Damn it, I know even father would let go off his morals for you even if he doesn’t show it. And yet you find the time to do all this. To be with me.” Damian took a step forward, anger finally allowing his nerves to thaw.

“To talk with me.” He took another step and another. Reminiscing of your rooftop trysts. The longing looks you two exchange when you fight. The way you made him laugh and smile. The way he felt so normal yet so excited to just be around you.

“To embrace me, to kiss me, to . . . make love to me.”

He remembered your first kiss. The one you two shared when you saved him from a powerful adversary that he admittedly was too distracted by thoughts of you to even fight back with the usual skill and levelheadedness that was drilled into him for almost two decades.

“Do you even love me? Or is it just physical attraction - lust - that you feel?” He stands in front of you and the bed.

You sat up, “Does it matter?” Your hands grabbed his, massaging small circles for a moment or two before you pulled him into your own form.

Damian closed his eyes, reveling in your warmth.

“No.”

It wouldn’t matter, whatever you do or whoever you see

because to him, only you are the one capable of consuming his heart and mind.

[i-smoke-chapstick]

‘THE VALLEY, [hard kinks! hcs]

-GOTHAM!VILLAINS X READER-

⋆ Characters ↬ Oswald Cobblepot, Victor Zsasz, Edward Nygma, Jerome Valeska, Jervis Tetch

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; hard and unusual kinks hcs with the gotham villain men

⋆ tags/warnings. GOTHAM!villains x female reader. PURE PORN like this is absolutely filthy and descriptive. Some of these are probably too creative and WAY out of character, but oh well. I need to practice my smut writing skills and what better way to do it then with some short scenarios of our boys ? HARD KINKS (all of them are too kinky for there own good) sadomasochistic sex warning for victor and jerome,,, and (sort of?) non-consensual hypnosis warning for jervis, somnophilia and bondage warning for ed. controlling and degrading behavior.

𝛰𝑆𝑊𝐴𝐿𝐷 𝐶𝛰𝐵𝐵𝐿𝐸𝑃𝛰𝑇

♫ “Obey, like I’m your master babe.” The Valley by Miguel

He has a habit of leaving in the mornings. He’s a gangster, a crime lord. He loves his job…you think. But it’s hard. Especially seeing him go. Which is why when the two of you fuck, he makes it worth your while.

Yes, he’s shy. He despises indecency. He doesn’t fuck, he makes love. At least, that’s what he likes to think, so you let him.

But you know better. Oswald can’t control anything about himself. The man is impulsive and spoiled. And when he wants you to feel something, you feel it. For better or for worse.

Which is why when he’s awfully pent up and sexually frustrated, you reap the benefits of the king of gotham’s cock pistoning into you. He needs to feel wanted. He needs the two of you to feel loved. He thinks the two of you are sweetly and slowly fucking in his mind. But in reality?

His thick length is hammering into you, selfishly ignoring your pleas. No, he gets drunk on them. Even if he doesn’t want to admit how obscene he’s being.

You’ll feel his sticky tip align with your pussy. He means to enter you slowly, but before you know it, he’s letting himself go. Every inch of his cock is filling you up, taking you in. His eyes are rolling back as he feels you clench around him, and he tries to push all the more unsavory thoughts out of his head.

Thoughts of you tied up. Worshipping him. Unable to resist him. Thoughts of you riding his thighs, while he gives the order to shoot someone dead. The idea of you bending to him, being a good servant. Kissing his shoes, groveling and kneeling. Degrading you.

His fingers sink into the fat of your thighs and ass, clawing at any part of you he can grasp.

His mother taught him better, he reprimands himself. But how can he stay composed and loving when you look at him like he’s the only man in the world?

Oh, he wants to make you feel good, loved, and have this be an act of intimacy. It’s what he was raised to believe sex was for. But he also wants you on your knees, choking on his length, collared like a dog.

𝑉𝐼𝐶𝑇𝛰𝑅 𝑍𝑆𝐴𝑆𝑍

♫ “I wanna fuck like we're filming in the valley.” The Valley by Miguel

Victor is always upfront with what he wants. And he’s been around the block one too many times. He’s fucked around quite a bit. He’s a ladies man, what can he say?

Which is why vanilla sex is entirely boring to him. Well, maybe not entirely. Not with you.

But theres something so special about mixing physical pain, his sole desire, with you, his other sole desire. It’s his lifes work, meeting the love of his life. What’s not to like?

Which is why he blunty suggests the idea. And boy is he glad he did.

A phone camera is pushed into your face while he records everything. The sloppy noises of your pretty pink mouth slipping and sliding around his cock.

It’s not just any homemade porno either, no. It’s a borderline snuff film.

He films himself slotting his cock into your swollen lips, one hand recording, another hand on a pistol pressed firmly against your head while you choke on his cock. The gun isn’t loaded of course, at least, you don’t think it is.

If the gun is loaded, you’re sure he’s playing a dangerous game with himself. Testing his own capabilities. He’s the best of the best, and his fingers are placed firmly on the trigger. If he loses control or focus for even a moment, you could never see the light of day again. Each time he cums is like a self-made test for himself, an ego trip. He’s excercising the greatest control not to accidentally pull the trigger and pop your top.

You’re spitting wildly, tears and saliva and cum mixing on your face. You’ve been sucking him off for what feels like hours, playing this game, and it’s still not enough. No, the man could live his whole life with your face inbetween his thighs. You have no clue what round you’re on.

“There you go…sweetness. Uh-huh…take it.” He’ll press the gun further into your temple, talking down to you slowly. It’s awfully demeaning.

He never shuts the fuck up during sex. This is no exception. His dry humor persists in every word, even as his gun comes into contact with your fucked out wet face, or a blade slices through your sweet soft thighs.

He’s doing close-up shots of every cut he makes on your skin. He marks the both of you, respectively. He keeps the videos in his pocket for later. Y’know, just in case you aren’t there, and he needs something to jack off to. He’s a manwhore, and he can admit it.

He’ll ask to show the videos to Wendell. Just so he knows Victor wasn’t lying about his girl being a total catch.

𝐸𝐷𝑊𝐴𝑅𝐷 𝑁𝑌𝐺𝑀𝐴

♫ “I wanna taste your sweat, force my fingers in your mouth.” The Valley by Miguel

Oh, Eddy. Ever the show man. Oddly enough, I think he has the dirtiest mind and the highest sex drive out of everyone on this list. In the words of CMS, "He loves donuts and getting laid." You're no exception babe.

Similarly, he isn't the kinkiest when he's at the GCPD. The poor baby is so vanilla; so eager to please. If you want a man to put your needs above his own? Look no further. Eddy is your guy. But similar to Ozzy, the man grapples with control. How can he resist when your small sleeping body looks so innocent? So willing?

You wake up to him pumping his dick deep into your hole, groping your breasts and ass, hips plowing harshly into your stretched cunt. He wants to apologize, for waking you. He feels bad of taking advantage of you. But it's your fault. The man is a little bit of a creep and has gone his whole life without pussy. What did you expect?

That being said...when he undergoes his transformation of sorts? It's like he has something to prove, to you and himself. Riddler baby is tired of hiding in the shadows, no, it's show time. If you thought the somnophilia was kinky, you've seen nothing yet.

Season 3-4 Ed is desperate to dominate you. Claim you in every way. Prove to himself that you're not going anywhere. It's a deep seated need to exert control, with a touch of dramatic flair.

Which is why, from time to time, especially on special occasions, you'll wake up from being drugged, ball-gagged in a warehouse, tied to a chair, moaning around a vibrator overstimulated against your cunny. He'll watch the whole show, pleased with his handiwork.

Might even turn it into a game. How many riddles can you answer? Maybe if you get one right, he'll let you cum. And if you don't get one right, prepare to be in for a long, long night.

Ed's pushing his thick long fingers into your tight little pussy, watching your cream spread along his fingertips. He'll force his fingers in your mouth, making you taste yourself. Making you taste what he's doing to you.

He's giggling while he does so, smile wide while you gag around him. Oh, this will be fun.

𝐽𝐸𝑅𝛰𝑀𝐸 𝑉𝐴𝐿𝐸𝑆𝐾𝐴

♫ “lips, tits, clit, sit.” The Valley by Miguel

Would it be too brave to go on record to say the mans a virgin? I'm sorry, but he didn't get any pussy in that carnival.

Which is why he's incredibly sex starved. The man is feral. Hungry. He fucks you like a dog in heat half the time. You're his own personal pocket pussy, who will love him no matter what.

So when he tells you to do something, you better do it.

For instance, when he tells you to sit on his face, he means sit. No hovering. No, he wants the entirety of your weight in his mouth so he can tongue fuck you into oblivion.

He's wildly gripping at you, laughing like a mad man as he keeps you in place firmly. He's digging into your cunt with his tongue like a man whose getting his first lick of pussy. He's slapping your ass, letting you ride his face like a cowgirl.

He'll slap your sopping cunt. He'll spit in your mouth, on your face, on your pussy. He loves everything feral and sloppy. And for his own good, the man can't shut up. He loves some good dirty talk.

"Hah! There you go, doll. You want it raw? You do, don'tcha? Naughty, naughty girl." Excuse his breeding kink. "Should just pump you right up with my cum. Get you all messy. Cream-pie you riiiiiiight here," He cackles, hand hovering over you're lower stomach.

He likes seeing your face contort in pleasure and pain when your thighs scratch the staples on his face.

Oh, he's a biter. Your thighs might be bleeding by the time he's done, biting hard enough to break skin. You'll yelp in pain and it will spur him on, like you're his own personal show to watch.

God, please hit him back. Slap him. Push him around. He adores it- the two of you fucking like wild animals, clawing and at each others throats, all the while his girthy length his pounding into your sweet tight hole.

𝐽𝐸𝑅𝑉𝐼𝑆 𝑇𝐸𝑇𝐶𝐻

♫ “Tell me that you love it darling." The Valley by Miguel

Jervis has a very deep seated need to have you close to him. To have you bonded with him. He's obsessive, clingy, stalkerish. And he loves a good old fashioned Victorian flirtation. But god, he gets tired of waiting.

He's a gentlemen through and through. But even gentlemen have needs. And when he sees you in that light blue dress he bought you, pussy peaking out through the short skirt? Or how you lick your lips when the tea he makes you dribbles down?

He'll have to take what he wants eventually.

He knows you'll say yes. Even though the two of you have never talked about sex. No, you're his Alice. His willing little girl. Why would you ever say no to him? And he's right. He could ask, and you would probably say yes.

But, just for a precaution...Can't have you running off like the white rabbit, can he?

It will be late night after the two of you have tea. And he'll pull out his pocket watch. And before you know it, you'll be pinned on top a table, dress pooling between your legs, pulling on his hair against your will.

It's a sight he will never sick of. His sticky ropes of cum dripping, tainting the dress he'd bought you. It trickles down from your spine. You'll be too fucked out to walk the next day, and you won't even remember why.

He takes you, ignoring your pleas and whines of overstimulation. He'll continue to stuff his cock inside you until he feels pity for you.

Hypnotizing you while he's balls-deep inside of you, messily thrusting as he tries to concentrate. "You love this. Tell me you love me. Tell me you love this." His words scramble as he comes undone himself, letting your mind wash over and speak the words against your will.

If somehow you piece two and two together, the cum stains on your dress- and the feeling of being stretched out the next morning...assure him he doesn't have to hypnotize you.

Or let him keep it up. It's more fun for him this way.

[acapelladitty]

Whole Day Off: The Meal

Pairing: Jonathan Crane/Female Reader

Summary: After being invited out to attend a romantic dinner with the infamous Scarecrow, you find that his intentions are as complicated as ever as he enjoys your company. (6.3k words)

(tw for: outdoor sex, fingering, dirty talk, orgasm, mild voyeurism, cum marking, unprotected sex, mild sub/dom dynamic, possessive behaviour etc)

Whole Day Off Masterlist

Link to AO3 Series

Enjoying a dreamless sleep as your body recovers from your play, it’s no less shocking when Crane’s hands wrap around your upper arms and shake you awake with clear urgency pinching at his tone.

“Up now, little mouse. You need to get ready and move.”

“Wh-hello?” Groggily sitting up, you adjust to his presence before you with bleary features – eyes narrowed and mouth feeling dry as hell as you stretch your arms overhead. The residual aches from your earlier fuck are quick to make themselves known as you wince in discomfort.

“In a few moments, Waylon Jones, better known to most people as Killer Croc, will be visiting to drop-off some necessary equipment for my experiments. I have no time to hide you so you must play your part again as a victim and play it well.” His words are even despite the hurried tone and Crane’s hands clasp over your own as he pulls you to your feet.

Still disorientated from your broken sleep, it takes you a moment to follow his gaze but doing so forces your eyes to the dental chair and your throat tightens as you realise what he’s asking. You may have forgiven him for the mess with Sionis but you had not forgotten and the discomfort which roiled in your chest every time the dental chair caught your eye was undeniable.

At your feet, your clothes lie in a messy pile and you bend in place to snatch them up. Pulling on your long-abandoned shirt with trembling hands, you focus on Crane’s words as he explains the situation with his typical, reserved attitude.

“Jones works for me from time to time doing grunt work. He will be dropping off some electronics I require so I will ask that you remain in the chair until he has left. Your presence will not seem off if you perform accordingly.” Pausing as though considering something, he is nevertheless quick to carry on. “I understand that you have no desire to find yourself back in the chair so soon but I can promise you that this situation will be nothing like the previous.”

Padding across the floor, tracing the familiar walk to the dental chair with a zombie-like gait, you sit down on it gingerly – every nerve in your body tensed and desperate to bolt as Crane follows your footsteps to stand before you.

"Waylon Jones is not a creature built on cruelty, nothing like Sionis. More a victim of his circumstances than anything. He will pay you no mind."

Struggling to articulate the whirlwind of anxieties and questions which are fluttering through your mind, Crane seizes the opportunity to speak again.

"Do you trust me?"

The question of the hour.

Nodding even though the agreement doesn't fully ring true within your heart, you allow him to secure you into the chair. Watching him with a trembling mouth, you notice how loose the restraints around your limbs sit and the dread within your chest lightens slightly as you take the merciful act as a small, unspoken apology of the previous mistreatment.

Quick to fix you in place and beat a hasty retreat, you startle as Crane's fingers brush along your jaw - an odd look playing on his features for only a moment before he schools it away and walks back to his workbench.

Unsure what to make of that, you banish the thoughts to focus on the task at hand.

Heavy footsteps approach within minutes and the stairs seem to tremble under the weight as Waylon Jones descends into the basement.

Trapped, you can't help but feel an awe-filled fear as you watch the hulking man struggle to fit down the somewhat narrow staircase. At seven feet, he towered over Crane, a fact made worse by the sheer bulk of him as green muscle filled the space. His reptilian skin looked tough and pitted, chest and upper legs covered by clothing which was slightly torn and frayed around the edges.

Across his back lay a large sack and Waylon carefully deposited it to the ground. It was massive and you could tell that it was heavy from the quiet thud of contact it made with the hard flooring.

"Good evening, Waylon." Crane greeted coolly. "How was the acquisition?"

Opening his mouth to reply, sharp rows of stained teeth shone from Waylon's inhumane maw. "Easy. There was no one in the building so I just grabbed it and went." He growled, his voice vibrating across the room as you kept up a showman struggle against the dental chair.

"Even stole a few extra bits, just in case."

"Excellent. Your payment is in the usual place." Audibly pleased, Crane clapped his hands together as he surveyed the collection. "Your work is an impeccable as always, Mr. Jones."

As Crane speaks, something seems to catch Waylon off-guard and he goes still. His body tenses and his head almost seemed to swim in the air for a moment as he scents something out with long inhales. After a moment, his head snaps in your direction and a visceral thrill of pure fear shoots up your spine.

Padded feet move a few feet in your direction and you freeze in position, pressing your back against the dental chair as Waylon comes to a stop a few feet away. Whatever faux fear you had feigned is now fully replaced by a very real horror as you realise that Crane would be unable to do anything should this monster decide to take a piece from you.

But nothing of the sort happened.

Something almost like regret washes through Waylon’s face as he stares at you, his nose continuing to flare as he sniffs out the fear which is no doubt pouring from you in waves as phantom memories of Sionis and how much more terrible this could be nips at your anxieties.

Waylon's snout twitches again, this time with confusion in his features, and he leans in closer to give you a more definite sniff. This close, you can see much more of his animalistic qualities; the reptilian eyes a subtle yellow as they sit neatly atop his slight snout.

"Waylon," Crane's voice rings out, firm and full of harsh warning, "away from her. Now. My work is no concern of yours."

Waylon ignores him and his snout twitches as he picks up on whatever he had been suspicious of. With the confirmation comes a sudden burst of anger as his reptilian eyes narrow and his features darken as he whirls on Crane.

"And they call me the monster." Waylon snarls lowly. "You're fucking them too? Using them like that?"

Truly furious, it was a frightening sight as Waylon stands to his full height and raises a threatening hand - the claws gleaming in the dim light - to Crane's chest. Shocked by the turn of events, any words you have die in your chest as you watch Crane refuse to back down.

"Waylon-"

"Don't ask me to work for you no more. No more favours, no more help. We're done."

Moving quicker than a seven-foot reptile should be capable of, Waylon pushes at Crane's chest with enough force to knock him clean onto his ass as a mixed expression of fury and confusion flashed across his features. It’s violent and shocking, a show of aggression which only amplifies the fear in your heart as sweat breaks out along your panicking limbs.

Still moving, Waylon was quick to return to you - his hands pulling free the restraints quickly as your struggle became real, not wanting this hulking beast to grab at you.

Mistaking your panic, Waylon wraps his arm around your body and picks you up easily as though you were a bag of sugar. Your breath catches in your lungs as he places you gently over his shoulder and you can feel one massive hand pinning itself to your lower back to secure you in place.

"I'll take you outta here, Miss. You can go to the Thompson clinic and tell Leslie you need help. She's good people. She'll help."

Through the shock and panic, something finally clicks in your mind and you burst into action, a surge of strength pulsing through your veins.

"I'm OKAY!" You yell, beating your fists on Waylon's scaled back as you watch Crane righting himself to his feet - his own breath clearly knocked from his lungs. "I’m okay! P-put me down, please!"

Waylon seems hesitant, pausing at the foot of the stairs, but follows your demand as he is unable to ignore your outburst and carefully plucks you from his shoulder to place you on your feet.

He says nothing, nostrils flaring as he watches you fix your outfit with trembling hands.

"I'm okay." You repeat. "He's not like th-he didn't rape me." You add explicitly, heading off the misunderstanding at its core.

"You sure?" Waylon asks, his back relaxing slightly as he settled onto his heels. "You don't gotta be frightened, his gas don't work on me."

Interesting to know.

"I'm sure. I come here because we're," you pause - unsure how to explain the mess that was your fraught relationship as you catch eyes with Crane for a moment, "seeing each other." You finish lamely.

Moving to stand behind you, the agitation which rolls off Crane makes the hair on the back of your neck stand to attention and you can feel how unhappy he is with this turn of events.

"Waylon, people can't know about her." Crane's low voice brushes past your ear and you lean back into him in a show of solidarity. "Sionis had a similar run-in and he has already come too close. You know what kind of man he is and if he knew the truth then…"

It's a subtle manipulation but one you play into as you allow fear to swallow your features. Waylon nods quickly, understanding alighting in his expression as he glances between the two of you.

"Secrets safe with me, Doc.” Waylon straightened his back to his full height, his head almost brushing the ceiling as he assumes a more relaxed stance. “And you seem nice.” His reptilian head tilting in your direction, Waylon continues as his gaze flicks to Crane. “She's pretty and seems nice. Too nice for-"

Waylon cuts himself off, a guilty look blossoming on his features as he realises the insult that he almost gave without thought.

Crane finishes it for him.

"Too nice for me. You're not wrong, Mr. Jones."

x-x-x-x-x

With Waylon gone, Crane’s agitation seemed to ebb and flow as he paced the basement with a firm determination.

“Waylon is dependable and discrete. His knowledge won’t impact anything.”

Unsure if the statements were directed at you or more of an external monologue, you answer regardless as you finish slipping your feet into your shoes.

“He seems fine enough. The papers and news are always very cruel about him and the things he’s been accused of.” And it was true. A Killer Croc appearance on the news was irregular and often accompanied by alleged sightings which contained footage that put the Bigfoot evidence to shame in terms of how shoddy it was; anything to bolster the reports of cannibalism and cruelty. “He also knows how to treat a woman.”

Responding to the tease with a thoroughly sour look, Crane stops his movements long enough to pin you with a scowl.

“Am I to take that as a criticism?”

“Take it as you like.” You answer evenly.

“In that case, I will discard the invitation to dinner which was simmering within my thoughts.”

Now wait a minute. “Dinner?”

“Yes.” Crane nodded. “Did we not discuss sharing a meal? I know your apartment was suggested and offered; however, I do realise that such short notice wouldn’t be considered polite or feasible.”

Your underfed stomach making itself known at the very prospect of a decent meal, the subtle rumble perks your attention up as you pretend to consider the offer – a recollection of actually offering your own apartment lacking in your memory.

“It would be rude of me to decline such a generous offer, Dr. Crane.”

“A dinner then. Meet me at this address at 7pm and I will reserve the space.” Scrawling the information on a slip of paper that he snatched up from his work desk, Crane thrust it within your hands. “Get a cab. I’ll also arrange the return trip.”

Not feeling like you had much of a choice in the matter as you look at the address - the restaurant not too far away based on its postcode. Excited by the prospect, you give an eager nod as a girlish flutter afflicts your stomach; your mind already vaguely scoping out your wardrobe for something nice to wear.

“Sure.”

x-x-x-x-x

Nervously tugging at the edge of the tablecloth as your fingers dance along the tacky red and white plaid, the passing waiters occasionally flick their eyes towards your table as they hold off on making any approach until your other guest has seated himself. Having elected to throw on a simple black dress paired with some low heels, you had even made enough of an effort to put on a little makeup – your eyes enhanced by a smudge of eyeliner while a neutral red colour tinges your lips.

Catching a cab had been easy enough and you were five minutes early, a fact you had made the host aware of as you walked in and requested the table for Gruidae, following Crane’s earlier instructions to use the false name. He had made the booking, and the spot you were reserved was far from the bright lights which flooded the centre of the restaurant. It was a nice, intimate booth with comfortable room for two while allowing for a little privacy.

Speak of the devil.

A dark shape covered the table for only a moment as Crane walks past your elbow, stopping at the side of the booth as he pauses to take in your appearance – a choice while allows you do to the exact same as something fond curls in your chest at the sight of him.

Surprisingly, Crane also seems to have made an effort.

More used to seeing him in his lab coat and simple shirts, the deep brown suit which hangs off his body is quite stunning, if a little outdated. A grey shirt, one you don’t recognise, sits below the suit jacket and the ensemble fills him out nicely as it takes the edges away from his gaunt frame.

“Hi.”

“Good evening.” Crane replies evenly, seating himself across from you as he unbuttons his jacket. “That’s quite the dress, little mouse.”

Pressing your elbows together to enhance the low dip of your cleavage, you don’t miss the way his eyes drop to enjoy the view before darting back up to your face.

“This old thing?” You smile, careful not to catch the edge of the brand-new dress on the wooden leg of the table. “I wasn’t sure how intense the dress code was. Your suit is lovely, by the way, makes you look very handsome.”

He shrugs the compliment off with ease, a disbelieving casualness that speaks to how rarely anyone much say something positive about him.

“It’s cold out there and I doubt my typical attire would be appreciated.”

“The lab coat?”

“I was thinking more about my costume and mask, witty girl. A touch too recognisable to allow for a nice meal.”

Feeling slightly embarrassed but enjoying the teasing quality of the simple conversation, you let it slide as your waiter appears by the side of the table.

“Some drinks for the table?”

“Large glass of house red.” Crane answers without missing a beat, his gaze settling on you as he continues. “And?”

“Vodka and lemonade, with a splash of blackcurrant.”

“Excellent. I’ll get those through for you.”

As the waiter departs, his polished back shoes tapping along the tiled flooring, you notice Crane watching you with a question lurking in his gaze.

“Yeah?”

“I just wasn’t expecting you to order a hard spirit.” He confesses with a deadpan tone. “I was expecting something more muted. Or sensible.”

“I like vodka.” Feeling defensive, you drop your elbows from the table. “Mixes with anything and doesn’t cloud my judgement as much as wine.”

A fact which makes the slightest smirk touch at his lips. “Why the need for a clear head? Are you nervous, little mouse?”

“No.” You lie, butterflies fluttering within your chest. “I’m just not much of a risk taker.”

At that, he can’t hide his disbelief as a scoff quickly fizzles into a doubtful stare. “Is that so? And what would you call agreeing to attend a dinner with a wanted madman? A person who has mistreated and abused your lovely body in the most carnal of ways?”

Smiling politely at the waiter, his sudden reappearance causing Crane to drop his point as he accepted his glass of wine without thanks, you take a short sip of your drink as you fix Crane with a teasing look.

“I call that a free dinner.”

“And what gave you the impression I was paying for this outing?”

“I seem to recall you coming into a substantial amount of money recently from a mutual friend of ours. I assumed that some of that money would benefit me in some way. Since, well, you know…”

Trailing off, you offer him a sweet smile and Crane is unable to hide the amusement which floods his features as he finds himself manipulated into agreeing.

“In that case,” he sipped from his wine, “I suppose that it would be the polite thing to do.”

x-x-x-x-x

After another two rounds of drinks and a dinner which was admittedly quite delicious, your decision to wash away the creamy carbonara which now sat warmly in your stomach with a lemon and raspberry cheesecake – the tartness of the dessert cutting across your tongue beautifully – was one which you couldn’t hide your pleasure at.

Humming away contentedly as you cut another small piece with your fork, you allowed Crane to continue with his discussion. Maybe it was the wine or maybe it was the comfort of such a tasty meal, but the reserved nature which Crane always revelled in had mellowed and with it came a great opportunity to ask questions which you had always been too nervous to.

“And which of the other costumed villains do you have the least amount of time for?”

It also turned out that Crane was quite the opinionated man when it came to his thoughts on others. A trait which you would have easily describes as ‘bitchy’ had it been applied to any other person.

“Joker is the least dependable to associate with but a necessity if one wishes to remain aware of the more dangerous plots occurring across the city.” Crane scowled, his spindly finger tapping his glass as a subtle flush sat high on his cheeks. “Dent fears me in a primal way and his fear manifests as aggression which makes any interaction a risk as he is very vocal in his desire to blow a hole in my chest with his magnum. Recent events have also placed Sionis low on my list.”

Pleased with that, you tilt your head and give him a small smile, ignoring the little voice in your head that was determined to remind you of his guilt in that manner. The restaurant around you was quiet with only a few other tables filled with various pairs and one small family tucked away in one of the corner booths. All people with their own lives and absolutely no awareness of the monster who sat amongst them nor the woman who he held within his grip.

“If you are finished, I will settle the bill and meet you by the front doors.”

Glancing down at the almost empty plate, you can’t face the last few bites and so you give him a quick nod, standing from your chair as you drain the last of your drink – the ice clinking against your teeth.

Moving to walk past him, you pause long enough to run your hand across his shoulder as your head drops to his cheek.

“Thank you for dinner.” You mutter, pressing a soft kiss against his jaw, the stubble there grating against your lips.

His response is a non-committal grunt and you fight the urge to roll your eyes as you pull your jacket on and head towards the front door of the restaurant. Stepping out into the cold night, you shudder at the sudden chill as your eyes take in the surroundings.

Above you, the moon hangs against the blackened sky in a lovely crescent shape. The streets are dead, only a few shambling bodies of finished workers and drunks from the bar two blocks over stumbling their ways home. Feeling pleasantly warmed due to the vodka stirring your insides, it still isn’t enough to combat the cold air and you cross your arms to your chest since you are unable to do much about the chill accosting your bare legs.

Crane joins you quickly enough, the scent of red wine on his breath as he passes you closely. Curious as to how he plans to get you home, you voice your concerns.

“Are we getting a cab?”

Standing to his full height, Crane tilts his head down at you and his features are as stoic as ever but a slight playfulness seems to be touching at his eyes.

“On such a night? No. I think we can manage the short walk to the warehouse. It should take around ten minutes.”

Taking his arm within your own, a bold movement which causes him to cock a brow, you allow him to lead you on the correct path as you mutter beneath your breath.

“What was that, little mouse?”

Crane’s elbow digs into your side as he awaits an answer and you glance to the side as you meet his gaze head-on.

“Cheapskate.”

His response is a measured huff, somewhere between annoyance and amusement, but he doesn’t deny the claim as his long legs march across the sidewalk forcing you to keep pace.

It really is a beautiful night and your thoughts are jumbled as you walk in a companionable silence. Dinner had been lovely, not just the food, but to get to watch the infamous Scarecrow in a much more relaxed and intimate setting was interesting. He was as brash as ever, his twisted morality making his answers to questions honest and refreshing as much as they were, at times, concerning.

Even his body language was more relaxed as he wined and dined.

The tension which littered his every word and action appeared lessened, his lips quicker to quirk into genuine amusement as he enjoyed your discussions. Your life, much less interesting than his, had taken up less of your shared time as a wicked curiosity controlled your own tongue – forcing you to ask questions about a world you had no interest in visiting.

So lost in your own thoughts, when Crane eventually tugs at your arm to grab your attention it comes as a genuine shock and you gasp in surprise.

“I have been considering your denial that you engage in risk taking behaviours.” He says, his head twisting to either side as he examins the empty street around you both. “It interests me.”

“Mmm-hmm.” Curious to why he had stopped, you follow his gaze to see the same emptiness filling the space. Apartments surround you, some with lights on and most without, and to your right is an alleyway which leads to the emergency fire exits of two separate apartment blocks.

“I think it’s a claim we need to further examine.” Thin hands shift to drop to your waist, snaking their way within your jacket to grip at your dress where it covers your hips. It’s a rough touch, one which makes your cheeks flush as you feel the air between you thicken as he stands before you, blocking out anything which isn’t him.

“You say that like I’m not walking back to your basement with you.” You counter, your own hands coming to a rest atop his forearms, fingers stroking along the thick material of his suit. “A place where i’ve been tied up and abused more times that I’d like to count.”

“I wasn’t thinking of waiting that long.”

In a flash of movement, his hands grow even tighter around your hips as he pulls you into the darkened alleyway to your right – the only illumination coming from the crescent moon which hangs in the sky and the neon flashing of a nearby pharmacy sign. So caught off guard by the sudden change of position, you issue a short yelp as his hands push you roughly against the wall, the harsh brick pressing against your back as his much larger body caged your own.

Anxiety clawing at your chest as your eyes struggle to accustom themselves to the darkness, Crane’s enveloping presence also sparks heat in your groin; your cunt clenching pitifully as warmth floods your lower stomach. His touch is always electric and here, in this filthy alleyway where anyone could be watching, it feels even more alive.

Bearing down against you, the scent of his cologne is strong and his leg moves to fill the space between your thighs. His groin hot against your hip, you can feel the growing hardness there as he assails you. Sighing as his hand rides up your dress, you spread your legs apart to allow him easier access as his fingers ghost across your thigh.

“Dr. Crane?” You interrupt, tone forcing itself to be as empty as his own, if a little strained as your heart flutters.

“Yes?”

“Your hand is up my dress.”

“And how does that make you feel, little mouse.” Playing the game, Crane’s piercing eyes pin you into place in a way his hands never could.

“It’s hot.” You groan, shifting your weight so that his hand is forced to move across your panties; the fabric there already feeling wet as he thumbs it lightly. “It makes me feel wanted, but I’m scared that we’ll get caught and someone will see us.”

“Scared, witty girl? Oh, I doubt that.” Crane chuckles, his voice low and dangerous. “We haven’t played with your true fears in too long. This here, what you are experiencing, is a mild anxiety nothing more, but I may have a cure.”

“A cure? What- oh.” Your question is killed off by the sudden pressure of his fingers as he slips them past your panties to sink two digits into your cunt, the flush of pleasure making your grip of his arms tighten as you press down on his hand.

“Responsive as ever.” He mutters, fingers gently curling within you as he pumps them slowly, taking his time to feel out every slight flutter and clench of your walls as he teases you. “I think that fucking a known supervillain in a filthy alleyway is a perfect method of exposure therapy to overcome that pesky anxiety.”

Shuddering into his chest as you press your head forward, your right hand trembles as it fumbles messily with his fly – desperate to please him as his fingers slipped free of your cunt to stroke smoothly along your slit.

It takes only a moment for you to free him, snaking his cock through the opened fly as it juts free proudly, the length twitching in your grasp as you match your movements to his own – the alcohol in your veins making you bold while your head spins.

He doesn’t make a sound but his lips part slightly as you stroke your hand across his length, its weight familiar and heavy in your palm as the velvety skin responds to your attention by growing stiffer with every passing moment. You both continue like this for a few minutes, the silence only punctuated by deep breaths and restrained grunts, your own control much less practised than Crane’s as you use his chest for support.

“The Scarecrow demands payment, witty girl. He had fed you, watered you, and allows you to walk safely through these evening shadows safely.” Growling the demand into your ear, his lips tickle your skin and you can’t help but give a childish giggle in response before gathering yourself as you tighten your grip on his cock.

“And what does he want from me?” You moan as Crane’s middle finger rubs delicately across the hood of your clit, gently stimulating the nub below. “I don’t have any money to offer him and I’m too weak and helpless to survive any of his wicked experiments.”

“Lies.” Crane accuses, breaking character for only a moment before regaining his composure. “But the Scarecrow has a different fate in store for you. You who spreads your legs so easily for a monster that you would let him fuck you in this decrepit alleyway if he asked.”

“God, yes, I would. Please-please ask him to fuck me.” You stutter out, rolling your thumb across the sensitive line between his cockhead and shaft – a motion which you know drives him wild.

It gets the desire result and your breath catches in your lungs as his hand pulls free of your panties to instead grip your shoulders, forcing you to turn around as face the wall as he maintains a rough presence against your back.

Flipped in position, the cool brick of the wall is rough against your face and you bring your forearm up to act as a barrier as you feel his hands pulling up the hem of your jacket and dress, exposing your underwear and ass to the night breeze.

“I’m going to fuck you right here and now, little mouse.” Fingers squeezing your ass roughly, Crane grinds the tip of his cock against your cunt as he croons the words into your ears. “And if anyone sees us then all they will see is the great Scarecrow and his willing mistress, a foolish little mouse who lets a monster use her for his own pleasure.”

His words going straight to your cunt, your thighs rub together for only a moment before being forced apart by his hand as he guides his cock to your aching hole.

His mistress.

His dear one.

Sentimental musings quickly put to bed as he wraps his arm around your waist, thin fingers delving within your cleavage to grope roughly at your left tit as he sinks his cock within you in one sharp thrust; your cunt so wet and willing that he meets almost no resistance as he buries himself fully.

Body aching with need, you meet his savage thrusts with enthusiasm, pushing your ass against him as he ruts within you – his thin body pressing against your back and making you feel every inch of his presence as he consumes you, inside and out. Groaning and mewling, the noises reverberate in the alleyway until Crane’s fingers press into your mouth, two digits pressing down on your tongue to mute you as much as possible.

His free hand also snakes its way around your body as his long limbs allow him to access the front of your sex, a cruel finger quickly resuming his torment of your clit as you buck and writhe against him.

Of the things that you liked about him, his quick study and commitment to retaining your every reaction is certainly up there and your legs feel unstable as he manipulates the sensitive hood and skin surrounding your clit without touching the nub itself.

Unable to speak due to the fingers in your mouth, you bite down on the digits roughly and bask in the pained growl which issues into your ear as he retracts them. He responds in kind though, his breath hot on your neck for a moment before blunted teeth sink into your skin in a rough bite, his tongue massaging the mark as you arch your back into him.

“Dr. Crane!” You moan, the words punctuated by a shuddering breath as his cock continues to glance off your cervix in a deliciously uncomfortable way. “Jonathan, please, I-”

“I think I like it when you say my first name, witty girl.” His groin flush against your ass as he remains buried to the hilt within you, Crane’s breathing was stilted and punctuated by soft pants of exertion. “I should hear you beg with it more often.”

A statement which makes your cunt spasm as the heat and merciless pressure of his cock finally snaps the tight band of arousal which had been steadily building within your groin, your release hitting with a guttural groan as you bury your mouth within your forearm to mask the sound. Pleasure cascades through you as your cunt is filled and pulses around him.

Determined to reach his own end, Crane revels in the way which your cunt wraps around his cock, every spasm and clench of your orgasm pulling him deeper as it milks him for what it’s worth. His hand, mercifully, drops from your clit and instead returns to your chest, his fingers pinching viciously at your nipple as he uses your body for leverage.

You recognise the tell-tale warnings of his release before it hits. His breathing grows even more erratic as his thrusts grow sloppier, hands increasing their grip as if to pin you in place and leave you unable to escape while he marks you as his own. With an animalistic grunt that almost matches your own, his mouth presses against your neck as he buries his cock as deeply as possible within you.

Heat floods your cunt as you realise that, in the whirlwind of the moment, neither of you had bothered with any protection and the realisation makes you groan as you feel the fullness of his release coating your walls. Your birth control would take care of any peskiness but the sensation of him filling you in such a primal way makes your cunt spasm anew as you grind against him.

It’s not until he pulls out a few moments later that you relax your body, almost falling backwards into him as you feel him tucking his softening cock away. Your jacket and dress are still ruched up around your waist but you’re content to remain like this as you feel him shift your panties back into position. His fingers brush your sensitive hole and you shudder in place as you feel the wet discomfort of your mixed release as it leaks free of you to quickly stain the fabric – your thighs feeling just as damp due to his earlier teasing.

Your head feels light as Crane spins you in place, twisting you so that your back is now pressing against the cool brick of the wall. His face is flushed, the sharp features mellowed by his satisfaction but his eyes remain as piercing as ever, the irises appearing darker due to the dilation of his pupils.

“You’re going to walk home like this.” Crane purrs, his hand cupping your sex through the panties, smearing the mess there further with his fingers. “As a reminder of who you belong to and just how far the Scarecrow will go to teach his little mouse how to overcome her petty anxieties.”

The sticky mess between your legs is uncomfortable but hot as hell and you nod dumbly in agreement, the inhibition of the vodka mixing with the recently-fucked bliss to make you painfully compliant as you keep a soft hold of his shoulders for balance.

His hand pulls free from under your dress and he quickly fixes the rest of the material for you, tugging at the base to even out the hemline before adjusting the neckline to ensure that your chest was covered. Letting him do as he wished, you instead focus your attention on his expression, drinking in the familiar haze which settles across his features when he’s also freshly fucked and clearly pleased.

“Thank you for dinner.” You hum out once again, voice sated and almost drowsy as you allow him to take the lead and link his arm within your own – his auburn hair in a state of disarray due to the breeze and the sweat which sits on his hairline. “It was nice.”

His head turns to you as he fixes you with an unreadable expression.

“Think nothing of it. I feel it was somewhat overdue and owed.” He comments, eyes narrowing slightly as he takes in the shiver which consumes your upper body at the chilly evening. With a smooth movement, his hands slip within his pockets to pull free a pair of thin, dark gloves; his fingers quick to pass them to you silently as he presses you to place them on.

Thankful for the small gesture, you smile up at him as your thighs stick together uncomfortably with every small step. You pull the gloves on, the material clearly too big for you but effective nonetheless as it kept the cold from your fingers.

In the frigid night, the moon hanging high against the bleak sky, you tuck your body as closely to Crane’s as you reasonably can as you seek out something unspoken which you doubt he is capable of giving. He allows it though, his arm linked within your own acting as an anchor more than anything but his thoughts are his own as he mindlessly leads the way back to his warehouse hideout.

Bringing your free hand to your chin, you inhale deeply and find satisfaction in the fact that the thin leather of the gloves holds a muskiness which you recognise as something uniquely him and you allow that small comfort to warm your thoughts as you ignore the pleasant ache and fatigue which makes your body feel heavier than it should.

Still, not the worst dinner you had ever sat through.

[plush4bunny]

"You rush, still out of sight, to see what the commotion is. Dread fills you when you see Oswald tied down to a chair and with blood marring his face. You don't even care to contemplate which of the two of you slipped and made the boys get wind of your relationship because your first worry is that Cobblepot is tied down and clearly anxious and angry, a step away from another panic attack by how his arms tug at the bindings."

scene from @chrism02's 18th chapter in their titillating Molina fancasted Oswald Cobblepot x reader fanfic called "Botch up"

[madame-fear]

yandere! dk! jonathan crane x fem!reader | general headcanons

request : can you do an imagine with yandery dk Jonathan Crane and a fem SO whos shockingly cool with it? “Oh you kidnapped me to keep me safe? Seem reasonable.” Kinda vibes. Absolutely love you!! (requested by: @kakepuff1234)

a/n : ahh thank you so so much dear, love you all too! 🥺💖 you have nooo idea how much i love the idea of yandere! nolanverse crane, so here it goes! 😌 if you'd like an imagine/one shot for this, feel free to tell me and i'll gladly do it <333

TW // Jonathan being a bit too obsessed with you, basically a yandere. Mentions of kidnapping and sickening obsession, but reader doesn't seem to mind.

────────────────────

• The second Jonathan laid his eyes on you, he would've been hit with awe at such graceful sight; he had an almost immediate need of approaching you.

• You were his next door neighbour, and the two of you live on houses who are near Arkham Asylum. He accidentally bumped on you when none of you seemed to be looking at where you had going, and after meeting you, there was no going back.

• Interactions started slow between the two of you. ""Casually"" bumping into each other (say: at the grocery store near your home, walking pass through Arkham, or even, with the classic "do you have some sugar?" technique) was something often happening. You paid no mind to it whatsoever, and found him to be rather interesting.

• The burning, fervid obsession grew as days passed. Jonathan could barely handle the sight of you laughing, talking, or joking with another man who wasn't him. Can't you see, he's the one who so deserves, and is so in love with you?

• Then, as the obsession grew, Jonathan was truly avid to know every single detail about you, and make you his – so, the stalking as Scarecrow happened. Without you noticing, of course.

• Another thing happening with you two are small interactions, when, say, you bump into each other at the grocery store. "How have you been?" would usually be the keyphrase to start a conversation with you.

• After a short while, you got fully used to him. Often waving and smiling at him whenever you saw him somewhere; and that makes his lil growing yandere heart to go 🥰😍💖❤‼

• At this point, his excuse to meet him at his home would be to say that "you seem a lovely neighbour, and that he'd like to know you properly": and we all know that he just wants to keep you with him. Every day, all day long.

• Oh boy, you said yes to him. You're meeting at 9 at his home, unknowingly about to stay by his side for, probably, the rest of your life.

• Jonathan is truly charming with his looks and his captivating personality: it's almost as if he were hypnotising, in a way. He made dinner for you, like a true gentleman, and gave you the absolute princess treatment – only so you could be enchanted by him, just like he always hoped for.

• Didn't put anything into your food or beverage. Though, he had a fear toxin near him in case you tried anything funny when he forces you to stay with him – basically, kidnap you.

• Hours passed: you laughed, chatted, joked around, and even teased with each other. And of course, since everything has it's end, you eventually realised it was time to go back home.

“Would you look at the hour?” you said, abruptly changing the topic of the conversation as you slightly lifted your sleeve to take a look to the watch on your wrist. Jonathan's face fell. “I think, it's time for me to get going–” as you swinged your bag on your shoulder, you grabbed your car keys and made your way towards his front door; only to be stooped halfway by him, blocking the door.

“No, you shouldn't.” Your eyes lightly furrowed, looking at the nuance of his facial expressions. His usual icy blue eyes had oddly turned a darker shade. “It's dangerous out there. A lady like you shouldn't be out at such late hour, especially in a city like Gotham.” he continued, “You're staying here until I say so.” Jonathan slowly started walking towards you, as you instinctively made a few steps backwards. Your face suddenly softened, as you began sliding your bag down your arm, placing it on a nearby chair. “So... you're basically kinda kidnapping me, just so you can keep me safe? Seems reasonable enough, I'm staying.”

What? Now it was Jonathan's turn to furrow his eyebrows in a mild confusion. He expected you to make a fuss about it: screaming and crying for your life, begging for him to let go of you to the point where he'd have to, sadly, fear gas you to calm you down. But it turned out, to be a rather much more pleasant surprise, which made his lips turn into a tiny smile. “Anyways, you've got any clothing to spare? Sleeping with this on is going to be rather uncomfy.”

• Oh. Well. This was better than the scenario he had originally expected. Would be pretty bamboozled, though. You're okay with the fact that... he literally just admitted to you he was going to kidnap you????

• And quite honestly, he is taken aback by your "chill" answer... but I guess he doesn't mind???

• So you just make yourself at home. It kinda annoys you the fact that you can't go out without him following you everywhere, but it's alright, you don't mind.

• Also it's kinda like a silly kidnapping, at the edge of living with him, rather than being kidnapped. He literally helped you move your things to his home...

• Jonathan will also get much possesive with you, now that he's got you under his watch. Always monitoring who you talk to, what you do, where you go, not letting you leave the house by yourself, everything: just like the yandere man he is.

• BUT EVEN THAT !!! You either don't care about him being a possesive, soft yandere with you, or you're oblivious to it.

“Oh, so you want me to stop talking to him? THANK YOU, you have no idea how annoying he was. What should I tell him next time I bump into him?”

• Honestly he doesn't mind at all. He's quite satisfied how you don't care about it, and how you sweetly reciprocate the love and affection he shows and gives you.

• Eventually, he kinda felt as if you needed your own freedom; no matter how badly yandere he is. Of course, he's always going to keep an eye on you: but if you desire to go out by yourself without having him following you from behind, he'll gladly let you do so, and it shall be whatever God wants.

• Jonathan was terribly afraid that once you left his home by yourself, you'd never return. But oddly enough, you came back! You had gone out to buy some groceries for the two of you, and you had bought his favourite snacks.

“Love, I'm back! Apologies for how late I am, the queue was enormous. Anyways, I brought you your favourite snacks. Want some?”

• THE WAY HIS EYES INCREDIBLY LIT UP AT THE SIGHT OF YOU COMING BACK HOME TO HIM.

• Oh my. He's a fervid yandere who desires you to be with him 24/7 and admittedly confessed to you that he was going to kidnap you, and after a while he did so he let you out to go by yourself and you came back to him????

• Saying he's head over heels for you is truly an understimation. He will literally PRAISE you to no end, and will shower you with love and admiration, happy that you recriprocate his lil' obsessed feelings for you.

──────────────────────

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@wittywitchness @anemicroyalties @imagine--if @scarecrow-jon-babe

[batman-dc-imagines]

Apologies to all who have sent in a request and have yet been answered. I promise I’ll start writing again come this weekend and the following week since I’ll be free that week from school and other things. This week has just been busy. Again for those who have sent in a request, I have seen it and I will answer it soon enough. And for those who would like to send in a request, please do so. My inbox will always be open, just take time to read over the pinned post.

Thank you

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

.⋆｡Double Lives｡⋆.

Bruce Wayne x villain!plus size reader

Batman lets a villain go when she startles him

Warnings: reader’s villain name is Styx, choking, fighting, stolen goods, reader and Bruce don’t know each other’s secret identities, implied smut, nudity, slight smut, fluff, sassy Alfred

WC: 1.2k

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

“Oh c’mon Batsy, I thought you could fight better than that.” You teased, yet again dancing away from the vigilante who was getting increasingly aggravated with your fight. He might have been stronger and had far more experience but you were flexible and a hell of a lot faster than him.

“You won’t win this Styx. Those artefacts are not yours to take.” His fist connected to the wall you ducked behind, narrowly missing your jaw. You leg swept out in a powerful kick to his broad chest, forcing the Batman back a few feet. He recovered quickly.

“They did not belong to the museum either.” You snapped back as you leapt onto the ledge of the roof, eyeing the fire escape on the otherwise of the alley. You ducked down and grabbed the bag of ancient art just in time for his huge arm to wind around your thick waist and pull you back down.

You stumbled, dropping the bag as you were forced onto your knees. The white eyes of his cowl were fixated on you, no longer focused on the stolen goods. Your ribs screamed with pain as you rolled away and sprang back up. Your smile was beginning to waver beneath your half mask but you would not let him beat you. 

“Give up now and I won’t turn you over to GCPD.” You tried to feign going to the right but he easily predicted the move.

The breath was knocked from your lungs as his gloved hand wrapped around your throat and shoved you into the wall behind you. He loomed over you, all shadows and sweat. You just couldn’t help it.

“Harder.” You moaned and everything stopped.

“What?” That wasn’t the voice of Batman, it was the voice of a very confused (and slightly turned on) man. You laid your own gloved hand over his own, forcing his fingers to curl against your throat in an even tighter grip.

“I won’t break, B. Harder.” Your other hand grabbed at his utility belt and pulled his slim hips into your thick ones, letting him feel the heat of your body through the thin layer of your suit. His jaw clenched and teasingly tightened his grip on your neck, forcing another sultry moan from your lips.

Batman dipped down and seemed to be going in for a kiss but quickly threw himself back as he returned to his senses. “Just- just go.” He cleared his throat. “But this is the only time.”

“I’m sure it will be.” You teased back with a smirk. You skipped over to him and laid a wet kiss to the strong line of his jaw, relishing in the feel of his stubble against your lips for a brief moment before you twirled away. “Call me, batsy.”

You cooed and with your bag, you disappeared over the edge, vanishing into the dark streets of Gotham, leaving him behind to deal with his suddenly too-tight pants and a deep sense of conflicting feelings.

“You let her go?” Alfred’s voice echoed into his ear, shaking him from the daydreams he was quickly spiralling into. Bruce blushed under his cowl and turned back in the direction of the Batmobile.

“She didn’t pose a threat.” The older man hummed through the ear piece. Bruce’s flush deepened. “She’s just doing what she thought was right.”

“She was certainly doing something, I doubt if it was right.” Alfred quipped. Bruce ignored him, simply taking in a deep breath and willing himself to calm down (his suit did little to hide his issue) as he decided to call it a night. 

“I’m coming back to the cave.”

“Perhaps I can call Miss Y/N, I’m sure she could help with your dilemma.” He could practically hear the butler’s smirk over the radio crackle. At the mention of his almost girlfriend’s name, Bruce tensed.

He let Alfred keep talking as he slipped into the tank-like car and quickly started it up. “Oh would you look at that, she’s at the front door. It seems like she could use your help as well.” 

“Alfred.” He growled but put his foot down anyway, forcing the car to speed up.

“See you soon Master Bruce.” Alfred teased before the line went dead and Bruce was left along with his thoughts and his rapidly returning lust. You and Styx merged together in his mind- he wondered if you would let him control you like he did with her tonight.

It might give him away, considering you thought he was just Bruce Wayne and not the Batman. But was he willing to risk it? He knew his answer as he stepped into the cave, quickly shedding his suit as he ran to the elevator that would bring him up to the manor.

He was just pulling on a tight black t-shirt when he heard your voice in the hallway. “Is he just in the office?” His cocked throbbed in his sweatpants as you drew closer (and if he was in more of a right mind he would’ve noticed that this wasn’t the first time he was hearing your voice tonight despite not calling you today).

“Yes ma’am. Go right on in.” He barely had enough time to open his laptop before the door slammed open and you stood in the threshold, a smug-looking Alfred a few steps behind you.

Bruce looked especially delectable right now, his muscles bulged beneath his shirt and the outline of his cock in the light grey fabric was making your mind go fuzzy. You both toed the line of friendship and a relationship- flirting and touching each other constantly but neither of you were bold enough to make the first move but that was about to change.

Batman had effectively ruined your tight catsuit (like he always did) and tonight was the last straw. You needed two get fucked and if the Dark Knight wouldn’t do it then you would finally conquer Gotham’s playboy.

You stepped into the room, shutting the door behind you as you kept your eyes locked onto the huge man. “Take off your clothes.” Bruce blinked and suddenly your shirt was off and you were pulling your leggings down your plump legs.

He was hypnotised by the large curves of your body, overwhelmed by your beauty. You were Venus and he wanted to worship every inch of you. “Whatever you want.” He purred, pulling off his own shirt as he rounded the desk.

You reclined on the couch in the corner of the room, kicking your panties off. “Just fuck me already.” You snarled and spread your legs, finally letting Bruce see the heaven between your thighs. He groaned under his breath.

“Fuck.” He shucked his sweats down his muscular legs and practically dove on top of you, his lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss. Your teeth clacked together as he pulled your legs over his slim hips, letting his cock rest against the curls on your mound.

Your fingers curled around his wrist, tugging it from where his hand was planted by your head, and guided it to your throat. Unconsciously, he gripped your neck loosely, unwilling to hurt you.

“Harder B, I won’t break.” Deja-vu hit him square in the chest but he pushed it away. He squeezed and you moaned. He ignored the part of his brain that told him the truth, he would deal with that when you were thoroughly fucked out and pliable.

“You won’t win against me.” Your breath hitched and you tugged him closer.

“Then don’t let me get away.” You mewled against his lips. And you both knew he had no intention of ever doing that.

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[innammoratta]

Edward Nygma x Reader x Harvey Dent - Part Two

(Just for fun.)

After you both came home from a long day at work, you hopped into the shower while Edward went into the kitchen to make dinner. Less than half an hour later, he heard a ringtone coming from the living room and looked over his shoulder to see your phone lying on the coffee table, unguarded.

A spark of curiosity appeared in Edward, although he didn't want to disrespect your privacy. He turned his head and stared at the hallway that you had disappeared into earlier, holding his breath to hear whether or not the shower was still running. It was, and hesitantly, Edward walked over to the coffee table. He looked at the caller ID and was extremely displeased to see that it was Harvey Dent. He wasn't surprised though. You both had been going out a lot recently. Sometimes Harvey would come over and Edward would do everything he could to make sure you and Harvey were never together alone.

"Mr. Dent!" Edward had answered your call on impulse, faking a friendly tone. "How are you?"

Edward heard a scoff on the other end of the line. "Nygma.." The barely concealed annoyance in Harvey's voice suggested that he was expecting this. "You know, I don't think (Y/n) would be very pleased if she knew that you were answering her calls now too."

"Well, thank you for your concern, but we're enjoying a nice and quiet evening at home and she didn't want to talk to anyone at the moment." Edward lied. "Oh! (Y/n), do you mind putting another log in the fire?" He talked to you as if you were there.

"Yeah, Nygma, very funny. I know what you're trying to do. I see the way you look at her and I know that you like her, but guess what? I like her too, and she likes me. When will you accept that?" The way Harvey's voice softened made Edward clench his fist and glare at nothing in particular. It was as if Harvey was explaining something to an incompetent child.

"It's rather bold of you to assume that (Y/n)-" Edward was interrupted by the sound of a door creaking open. Quickly, he hung up, leaving your phone where he found it and going back into the kitchen as if he was only cooking the entire time.

"Hey, Ed," you greeted him.

"Hello, (Y/n)!" He smiled.

You picked up your phone. "Did I get any calls? Harvey's supposed to be calling tonight."

Edward would have said no, but your call history would say otherwise. "Yes, he did. I told him that you were unavailable at the moment and he said he would call again later." Another lie.

"Oh.. well, thank you."

"You're absolutely welcome." Edward smirked to himself.

--------

After dinner, Edward put on your favorite show and set out your favorite snacks to go with it. He knew almost everything about you - the things you loved and the things that made your blood boil. He knew you much better than Harvey Dent did.

Edward sat back on the couch, smiling whenever he saw you looking at your phone, waiting for a call that would never come. This way, maybe you would realize how much disappointment awaited you in your possible future. Being the District Attorney, Harvey would never be able to give you the attention you deserved. Maybe you would realize that you needed someone who valued you and put you first. Someone who loved you not just for your pretty face, but your mind.

--------

It was a weekend, two in the afternoon when the doorbell rang. Edward stood up to answer it, rolling his hands into fists when he opened the door to see Harvey Dent. "Mr. Dent, please come in," he sighed. But Harvey didn't even wait for Edward to finish, he was already walking into the apartment.

"Mr. Nygma. We need to talk."

"Do we?" Edward walked away into the living room as if he had something better to do. But he was followed by Harvey who was wearing a serious and focused expression that he probably also wore in court. Edward paused, standing still as he crossing his arms, looking quite uncomfortable.

"I'm getting tired of this game and I want it to stop." Harvey began.

Is he going to stop seeing (Y/N)? Edward thought. His forced, polite smile became real for a moment.

"Today, I'm going to make it official and ask her if we could start a serious relationship. If you truly care about her, you'll respect that."

"Of course." Edward seethed. How dare he! But soon the anger was replaced by disappointment and hurt. Was he really losing you so quickly?

"Good." Harvey lightly smiled and slapped Edward on the back.

Just at the right moment, you walked into the apartment, just returning from the grocery store. You set down the bags and looked surprised when you noticed them. "Harvey? What are you doing here?"

"We have a date today." He walked towards you with a dreamy smile. "You didn't get my text?"

Edward casually took a sip from his coffee. He had deleted that text from your phone.

"No, I didn't." You looked confused and embarrassed. "Sorry."

"It's okay. Do you still want to go? I was just thinking we could stop by that one ice cream place and walk around the city."

"Yeah, that sounds fun." You smiled.

Edward walked up to you two. "(Y/N), I want you to know that Harvey and I have worked things out and we're on good terms now."

"Oh, that's great!" You were very aware that he didn't like Harvey. It was obvious. And although you tried to be courteous, Edward's consistent interruptions of your and Harvey's time together and the "discreet" rivalry between the two men became vexing after a while.

"Right, Harvey?" Edward called him by his first name, getting a strange look in return.

"Yes. He respects that we're dating and understands that you are an independent woman who can make her own decisions," Harvey told you, but it was directed more to Edward as a warning. "Anyway... shall we go?" Harvey let out one of his warm smiles and grabbed your hand.

"Yeah, let's go." Edward put his arms around your and Harvey's shoulders, making sure that he was in between you both.

If you and Harvey were going to go out, Edward had to at least tag along. He would make sure that Harvey would never ask you to be his girlfriend and he would make sure that this date was the least romantic one you've ever had.

The three of you headed out the door, confusion written on your face and annoyance written on Harvey's.

Part One

[yandereunsolved]

— Yandere Jonathan Crane —

"Do you know where you are?

"Arkham Asylum."

"Good. Your memory is improving. Are you still having those dreams?"

"Yes."

"I want you to describe them to me again. I know you don't remember much."

"I-It was extremely dark out. I remember that. There was this strange smell in the air. It goes blank after that. I vaguely remember feeling someone's hands ghost my body. When I woke up, it was a massacre. They were dead all around me."

"You had a psychotic breakdown. There was a leaking gas pipe that caused you to hallucinate. When the Gotham police came to the crime scene they say they saw you with a mask in hand."

"It was more like a straw bag. I-I don't remember ever having anything like that before... except for when you—"

"I see the light bulb appearing above your head. You are very smart, you know? That's why I picked you."

"Scarecrow."

"Such an astute observation. I wouldn't suggest you start screaming. No one will believe someone diagnosed as clinically insane, especially not someone who committed mass murder, such as yourself. I see you are sobbing now. It's a natural bodily reaction to relieving stress. Would you like a tissue, my dear?"

"Why?"

"Oh? You ask the predator why it stalks its prey? That's a question I am delighted to answer. It's simple, really. I am intoxicated by you."

[graveyard-stray]

Stress Relief | Jonathan Crane x Fem!Reader

DRABBLE

Word count: 459

summary: after a long day at the asylum and dealing with the Batman, Jonathan needs some help relaxing once he gets home and you are the only one who can do it.

Includes: sweet sweet fluff. That’s really it. No TW.

After a long and grueling day at Arkham Asylum, Dr. Jonathan Crane stormed through the door of his penthouse apartment, his mind consumed by thoughts of the Batman thwarting his latest experiments with fear toxin.

"Damn that vigilante! Every time I come close to achieving my goals, he swoops in and ruins everything!" He tosses his briefcase on his desk and doesn’t bother hanging up his coat, merely laying it lazily over a chair.

You frown as you see his frustration and hear the anger in his voice. You approach him softly, putting a gentle hand on his arm. “Jonathan, calm down. You can't let him get to you like this."

He pushes away from you, his fists clenched and his breathing heavy, "But he's always one step ahead! It's maddening!"

You walk closer to him again and wrap your arms around his torso, enveloping him in a soft embrace. "I know it's difficult, but you're stronger than this. Remember why you do what you do."

Crane lets out a heavy sigh, "You're right... I can't let him control me like this."

You pull away with a smile and lead him to the living room so he can get comfortable. “Sit down, I'll make you some tea." You insist.

As you bustled about the kitchen, Crane sank onto the couch, the tension in his muscles slowly ebbing away in your presence. Despite his facade of toughness, being with you always made him feel vulnerable in the most comforting way.

You soon returned with a steaming cup of tea and settled beside him, your calming aura enveloping him like a warm embrace.

The warm mug you held in your hand was placed on the table infront of Johnathan "Here, drink this. It'll help you relax."

He took a sip of the wake liquid and felt it slithering down his throat and calming his body. "Thank you, my love, don't know what I'd do without you."

You just smile softly at him "You don't have to do anything alone, Jonathan. I'm here for you, always." You say before placing a sweet peck on his cheek.

As you sat together in silence, the weight of the day slowly lifted from his shoulders, replaced by a sense of peace that only you could provide.

After he finished his tea you cuddled up against him, wrapping your arms around his midsection and hurting your face in his chest. Johnathan smiled softly, In your arms, he always found solace from the chaos of his world, a sanctuary where he could be vulnerable without fear of judgment.

And as he leaned into you embrace, jeknew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, as long as he had you by his side, he could weather any storm.

[helpfandom]

Analysis on YANDERE PLATONIC TAS Batman Villains. Pt 1.

THIS IS NOT THE NEW ANIMATED SERIES. Strictly ONLY The Animated Series.

Villains:

MR. FREEZE

RIDDLER

CLAYFACE

POISON IVY

MAD HATTER

CATWOMAN

What I am using as the archtypes: https://www.tumblr.com/helpfandom/724022554446135296/types-of-yandere?source=share YANDERE_AUXILLARY made it!!!!

I find it so curious that people neglect Platonic as a yandere version, {not to say that I am a pioneer, no no no, but rather that people don't write about it as much as romantic.} And so, here is my analysis on various TAS Batman Villains. Of course, this is part one, as there are many TAS villains. I just need to get to them.

Also, side note. Thank you TAS writers for already making Mad Hatter a yandere so now I have less work to do.

Mr Freeze: Now, he is the yandere type of Obsessive, Overprotective, Clingy. He found something else to focus on, and it happened to be you. Reader would be more of the friendly type, more outgoing for Mr. Freeze to have such an obsession with them. He wouldn't stalk you as much, more so just an immediate kidnap the next time he sees you. Most likely catalyst for his yandere swap would be dealing with the loss of his wife. He lost his wife. He won't lose his kid too. Maybe Reader was there to help, or maybe he saw his wife in you. No matter what it was, as soon as there is an obsession, he wants to keep you. You're screwed as soon as it began. He's overprotective, constantly hovering over you. "I've lost too much. I won't lose the last thing of my wife, too!"

Riddler: Hmm... His yandere archetypes for platonic is... Possessive, Delusional, Sadistic, and Self-Indulgent. His egotistical personality, tied with an obsession with a kid who is unafraid to throw hostility back? Not a good pair for Gotham. In his mind, to not be afraid of him, or to throw hostility back at him, must mean that you like him. And with his intelligence, how could you not? His catalyst, well, there isn't really a catalyst per say, more so he was already obsessed with beating Batman and being intelligent, so why wouldn't he be obsessed with someone who can challenge him? He's more of a stalker type, only kidnapping when Batman and Robin get a little too close to you for his comfort. You're just like a little him, well you have to be taught by the best, most intelligent, and that's him. "Well well, my dear child. You seem to have escaped, but I'm sure you know that you won't be out for long..."

Clayface: He is... Clingy, Manipulative, Impulsive, and slightly Sadistic. He would be obsessed likely with a theatre kid, or someone who enjoys the fine arts {So an Art Kid, Band Kid, Choir Kid, etc.} He would see that and miss the days when he could do that, when he could act or enjoy the arts. Because he can transform his shape into anybody, he transforms himself into people close to you, of course he stalks them ahead of time so that he can properly assume their character, but he quickly kills them off so he can assume that role in your life. If it was a friend who had a crush on you, he enjoys watching the life leave their eyes. How dare they try to ruin your potential with their desires? He uses someone in a position of power, too. Likely a teacher, or if you have a director? Boom, suddenly you have the main role, or a solo, or you won the first place in an art competition. Who knows what kind of a catalyst would be there, all I can tell you is that BOOM! You're being kidnapped by someone you trusted deeply. You watch your former mentor's skin droop off of this, this person, who's kidnapping you, revealing a rocky, clay texture. Clayface. "Heya kid, you already slipped up and called your teacher Dad, so I know you can for me too. Here, would looking like them help?"

Poison Ivy: Her yandere archetypes are Overprotective, Clingy, and attempts to be Manipulative. Delusional, but yet Lucid; She has delusions about Reader, but not in the 'ah, yes. Reader loves me too.' She would be a little apprehensive at an uncaring Reader, after all, if you're not for plants, you must be against plants. For an uncaring Reader to work, Reader must be a plant lover. Poison Ivy would see this, and suddenly everything makes sense. She assumes that Reader puts up a fake persona so that Reader can care for plants in their free time, so that no one knows that Reader loves plants. She loves that about Reader, and that's why she gets obsessed. She wants to keep the only other plant lover in Gotham and protect them against the cold, cruel world. She would originally try a sporeling, but she misses the real you so that plan fails and that's why she would kidnap you. "Come here my Rosebud, the world is cruel. Let me be your mother, like Mother Earth."

Mad Hatter: His characteristics are Delusional, Self-Indulgent, Overprotective, and Clingy. Who truly knows why he started to care for you? Perhaps you reminded him of someone a little too much... Nevertheless, not what we are here to focus on. He would not be a stalkerish type, but he would delude himself into believing you love him like a father. He would not be afraid to use his mind control on you. As soon as he manages to get you under his control, you're screwed. You're gone from Gotham forever. He has been shown to be willing to do it before, with Alice. I think he would be willing to do it until he gets you to the safe house which looks a lot like one of the sets for Alice in Wonderland... He would be overprotective, scared that Batman would take away his kid, take away the few things in life he loves. "NO NO NO! Batman simply cannot take away my child too!"

Catwoman: She is Clingy, Manipulative, Impulsive. She has been shown to be someone with a ton of money, {Paying $10,000 dollars for a charity that she loves, a lot of money, period, but also for 1992} So I feel that she would be willing to use that against her kiddo, saying that it's okay for Reader to use her money, and then guilt tripping Reader {who, realistically, wouldn't give a shit, but I digress.} Into staying with her to pay off the debt. Her clingy and Impulsiveness is because of when she was involuntarily transformed into an animal, some things stayed the same, and now that she found her cub? Even Batman can't fight a wild animal for her kid. "Lioncub, why are you worried? Mommy's got enough money for the both of us."