#arkham asylum x reader

[wisteriaiswriting]

Poison ivy ask

Reader has to take care of their child while ivy is in arkahm

Caring for your child while Ivy is in Arkham

Words: 336

Pamela will never show it to anyone, but she is constantly feeling guilty and remorseful fr the fact she’s in Arkham, which leaves you and your child alone in gotham.

She has plenty of connections inside and out of Arkham, and she uses them to send you two letters, gifts and anything she can get her hands or plants on.

Really tries to be better during her time to try gain access to see you two, whether it’s in phone calls, visits or packages.

Whenever a breakout happens her first stop is your place, want… no, needing to see you and her precious little seedling.

Will use her connection, well, it’s more like you using them.

She gives you full access to her connections, so ask anyone for anything, anytime as they won’t deny you. Respectively that connection lets her know how you two are going.

She will and does everything in her power to keep Batman away from you, she could never bear to let either of you get hurt or to part.

***

“I think that’s everyone.” The guard held a clipboard, crossing off the names as each villain passed. “Wait a minute…”

“What’s wrong now?”

“Poison Ivy’s still missing!”

***

The night was long, having just gotten your little one asleep in your bed. TV still blasting whatever late night show that used to be their favourite kids show, but you couldn’t turn it off as they’d just wake up again.

It seem’s that sleep finally caught up to you though, only able to remember opening your eyes to a beautiful sight. Instead of the baby next to you, they were gently cradling in green arms. Following them up to find Ivy, face full of adoration at the now babbling child.

Reaching for her face with chubby hands, one’s she graciously let hold her. Finding her eye’s glance over to you, softening even more seeing you returning to look. “There you are my Orchid…”

“Your back, Pam.”

“For now, but I’ll make our time last~”

[xan-izme]

𝐌𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞𝐬

Part 1: Dinner Time

Prologue

TW: Past neglect, death, violence, mention of blood, drinking

Tag list: @pix-stuff, @sweetconnoissurgarden, @craftymoonchaos, @jsprien213, @hebaoffside, @bunbunboysworld, @melonylla, @numbu5, @tatsuri-zomushiki, @formulas-bitch, @fantasyhopperhea, @otterluver05, @caged-birdies-blog, @minkyungseokie, @una1002289, @vanessa-boo, @welpthisisboring, @sirenetheblogger, @salfishers, @meeeeeeee-stuff, @eylsiankub, @lilithskywalker

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"Eight years in hell. . ."

You were seated on top of a desk playing with a snow globe in your hands.

"Can really make you go crazy." Your head hits the wall behind you, slowly turning to the bleeding man on the ground, once again receiving a blow to the face from a man dressed in dark red.

"P- please. . . I don't know anything. I swear." The man whimpers as he begged.

You sighed. "You're lying. I really, really hate liars' doctor." You through the snow globe onto the ground, shattering the glass. The man in red took your small fit of rage as a signal and pulled out a gun, pressing it against the doctor's head.

The bleeding doctor felt another type of fear the moment he felt the cool metal against his temple.

"W-wait! Wait! Please! I have a family; I'm begging you please!" The doctor cried and begged. The man in red glanced to you, you sighed and waved you're hand off. The man in red put his finger on the trigger, about to shoot.

"WAIT- Gotham hospital! She was at Gotham hospital!"

The man in red paused and glanced over to you.

You walked closer to the doctor, crouching down to the man's current level, as the man in red slowly pulled the gum away, the doctor felt a large wave of relief wash over him.

"Are you sure?"

The doctor nods "She s-saw Doctor Hill, that's all I know, I promise that's all I know."

You stay silent for a moment before standing up. "Thank you for your cooperation."

The Doctor felt relived. Wanting to go back to his wife and kids, hug them as tight as he could-

BAM!

The Doctor fell with a thud. Blood slowly seeping out of his body as you tossed the gun you used to shoot the doctor to the man in red.

"That's for lying" You mumbled as you stare at the doctor's body with indiffrence.

You've been out of Arkham for almost a month now. You should be relaxing, try to fit back into society. But no, your mother was missing, the Falcone's didn't know where her whereabouts were, some made comments of her abandoning you the moment you got out, which coursed them to have a slow death for their crude comments.

Your mother loves you, and you know she would never abandon you. So now you're searching. But you aren't getting to her fast enough. And your growing impatient. You wanted to come back out into the world and run into the arms of your mother, but your just met with Gotham's ugly mug. It angered you beyond words.

The man in red, Rex, works for the Falcones, but has come to be loyal to you. Rex followed behind you as you walked out of the room and down the halls.

"Give doctor hill a visit for me, will ya?" You spoke coldly as your heels clicked loudly walking down the empty hall of an abandoned building. Rex nods before speaking up.

"What about you Miss Falcone. Are you going back to the Falcon manor?"

Ah, yes. You took your mother's last name. All done in paper. No more, Y/n Wayne. That little girl is dead.

". . . No, I need to grab a few things."

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Alfred knows you have been out for a month, so why have you not come back to the manor?

Alfred tried to keep in touch as much as possible during your time in Arkham. Every phone call, he could hear that sweet innocent girl he knew fade. He has tried to phone you multiple times but no use. Even tracking you down with was difficult, Alfred has tried to tell Bruce about his worry for you not coming home, But Bruce seemed to almost immediately shut down at the mention of your name.

He's worried for you, he just wants to see you, and make sure you're okay.

There was a met Gala being held today. Preparing for it was exhausting, but it was like that every time a gala had to be held. Everyone scattered all over the manor.

With a heavy sigh, Alfred entered the kitchen, the gala's close to an end, the rich of Gotham turning in for the night. But Alfred comes to a stop when he noticed a woman in the kitchen, dressed in a dark red dress, her back faced to him as she picked up a glass of wine.

"Excuse me ma'am, you're not supposed to be in the back here." Alfred spoke firmly with his usual stoic expression. The woman in red slowly turns around with the wine glass in hand. Then she spoke, the face, Alfred surely does not recognize, but the voice. He knows your voice.

"I rather be away from the crowed, if you don't mind." You gave the older man a small smirk as you see the realization hit him.

"Miss Y/n?"

Your small smirk cracked even wider. Alfred walks closer, shocked to see you here, in the kitchen munching on some sweets, just like you used to when you were younger.

You shrugged with a small giggle slipping from your red lips

"The one and only"

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"Miss Y/n, come, Master Bruce must know your home!" Alfred might not show it a lot, but he is overjoyed to see you in the manor again. You've grown so much.

"Ah, well I was hoping to just grab some things from my old room and head out." You try to walk off to the back staires

"Nonsense, come, come." Alfred needed you to meet the family. For the family to see you. He touched your back as to lead you out of the kitchen and into the dining room.

You immediately flinched away.

Your negative reaction causes the butler to coil back.

"Miss. . .?"

You let out a weak cuckle.

"Sorry, I'm not fond of being touched." You began to meekly rub your hands together. Alfred comes to realize your time in Arkham has damaged you in some way's he might not be able to know yet.

"No need to apologize miss Y/n." Despite the small awkward moment Alfred still managed to have you walked out to see the others.

You felt an immense amount of DeJa'Vu. The walls, the detailed engraved in these walls. These walls haunted your dreams. Only half of your childhood was spent in this manor. You remember running down those stairs once Bruce came home from work. Skipping through these halls after getting a solo part in choir, something Bruce never really paid mind too.

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Almost everyone was here tonight. Jason, Dick, Cassandra, Tim, Damian and Duke. Steph couldn't make it. Barbra was spending time with her father. And. . .

Bruce watched as his children chat, argue, laugh. He smiles to himself as he takes a sip of his glass of white wine.

"Where's Alfred?" Damian spoke up as he turned his head in search for the butler that is always usually hovering around. Bruce shrugs

"Most likely in the kitchen."

Suddenly, the doors open, in comes Alfred with a smile on his face.

"Alfred." Bruce can tell Alfred seems to be in a more chipper mood than he was in half an hour ago.

"We have a visitor." Alfred's words confused the others. Then you stepped up. You scanned the room. Some faces new, some old. Others were still confused, either not recognizing you due to the years that have passed, or the fact they simply didn't know who you were.

But Bruce didn't take long to recognize you. And the way he paled at the sight of you, it just made you smirk at his reaction. Dick was quick to follow the realization.

"Y/n . . ." Bruce mumbled.

Jason's head whipped to Bruce once he heard the name. Looking back at you then to Bruce.

"Y/n, we thought you were still . . ." Dick tried to speak, but he seemed to get more uncomfortable with just thinking of his words.

You wait for Dick to say the words, but clearly, he was still in shock to say it.

"Arkham? I've been, rehabilitated." You say this with a soft smile.

Jason, trying to process what the actual fuck is going on right now stayed silent. Damian also confused spoke up.

"Father who is this woman?"

Your eyes snapped to the young boy, your head tilt for a moment. Walking closer to the table. Your heels click as you kept your eyes on the young boy, and Bruce kept his eyes on you. Still not believing you were out.

"I'm his daughter. Blood, daughter." You spoke as you kept a playful manner to yourself. The Damian frowns. "Imposible. I'm fathers only blood child."

You paused for a moment. You seem to be analyzing the situation.

"Is that what dear old daddy said." Your chuckle, almost darkly, as you sipped on your glass of red wine. Alfred pulled up a seat at the end of the table, across from Bruce. You took a seat.

The room that was once filled with chatter and warm air was now silent and tension filled the air. You leaned back into the chair; Alfred re-fills your glass.

"Thank you, Alfred." You kept a small playful smile on your red lips. You let out a small sigh before speaking

"So, what did I miss?"

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"𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚍𝚍𝚢?"

[blu3n]

[ @popipopipopipopipo000 = knows how to draw well. ]

Jason didn’t say much — he didn’t need to.

He was the kind of man who carried the entire world on his shoulders, but rarely let anyone see him falter. To everyone else, he was the ruthless vigilante, the one who did what had to be done without remorse.

But to you, he was something else. He was the silence between the screams, the pain disguised as bravery, the weariness he only showed when he felt safe in your arms.

There was something in the way he pressed his forehead against yours, like he was searching for direction there. Something in the way he whispered that he loved you — not out of habit, but as if reaffirming his anchor in the world.

You knew he wasn’t just the rage he showed or the scars he tried to hide.

He was raw intensity, a turbulent soul trying to find peace in the most unexpected place.

Jason, through your eyes, was a man of extremes —

and yet, somehow, he found shelter in you.

You had learned to recognize his silence.

Not the usual silence — when he was focused or simply too tired to speak. But the other one. The silence that was heavy, thick with memories that refused to stay quiet inside him.

That night, he was sitting on the bedroom floor, still wearing the dirty jacket, his hood carelessly tossed aside. You came in quietly, approaching like someone who knows they’re nearing a wounded animal.

“Jay…” you called softly.

He didn’t answer.

Only then did you notice — his shoulders were trembling. His face was hidden in his hands. And that muffled sound of a man crying, trying not to make a sound.

You knelt in front of him, cupped his face gently with both hands. He hesitated — as if he didn’t believe he deserved to be touched with kindness — but gave in. He always did, when it was you.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered between shaky breaths. “I… I didn’t want to be like this.”

You didn’t ask what he meant by “like this.” You knew it was everything. The past, the rage, the trauma, the blood that still clung to his hands even after washing them.

“You don’t have to apologize for feeling, Jason,” you said, pulling him into your lap. “Not with me.”

He cried harder then. As if he had been holding it in for far too long. As if, finally, he had found a safe place to let the pain out.

There, in your embrace, he wasn’t the Red Hood.

Not the vigilante, not the boy who came back from the dead.

He was just a man with a shattered heart —

and you were the only person in the world who could piece him back together.

[strawberrybyers]

being a slut and mentally ill means i’d do really well as a patient in arkham asylum

[dollishmehrayan]

I feel like a reason why jason todd will always be misunderstood as a character and person forever is because his emotional side of his character is so deep like genuinely it’s so deep where’ll you will think to yourself, he has plenty of sides as a character to a point it’s so pointless to try to capture his emotions in a movie or a simple writing, like genuinely imagine being tortured for 6 months - 2 years for doing good for your own city and when you come back you see someone has taken your spot and your death didn’t change anything, joker running free, batman with a robin and etc and nothing impacted on the city at all, as if you were never born and when you finally confront the closest thing you have to a father he just says “I can’t, I’m sorry..” when you poured your heart out so your emotions and pain doesn’t cloud your mind and feeling like you just born to be nothing, from coming from a semi abusive household in poverty and a trying biological father who can’t make ends meet and a addict mother to fending on the streets to resort to stealing car tires not knowing how long you’ll make it until your next meal to then becoming the mantle of robin and having pressure to live up to the past one too, it genuinely cannot be captured jason Todd’s character is so emotional and deep honestly I can talk about it for hours, and especially seeing no mourning stage ── .✦ if double perspective were two people it would be Bruce and jason, it’s a problem when you have the same hearts and different minds as some say double edged sword. Characters can be so fucking deep even then how we can compare to humanity, I genuinely wonder how deep his character goes, it’s part of the reason why so many people feel drawn to him I genuinely cannot express how much I feel that I think the whole ‘red hood’ confession was super shorten too because what do you mean that was it!?!?, like I genuinely get Bruce’s point he can’t kill because he’ll never stop once he starts but I feel like it just wasn’t right and how he expressed why he couldn’t to a “I can’t, I’m sorry (a bit of etc)” knowing jason would’ve killed anyone for bruce in a heartbeat but when the table turns bruce just couldn’t and if one think hurts it definitely loving someone but knowing they wouldn’t do the same for you, it a pistol. To. Your. Head. It’s the worst kind of love one can handle ever I think but in the interactive movie you could see jason about to do it but yk ofc Tim and etc but it just doesn’t make sense how jason fulfilled Bruce’s wishes/ morals but bruce couldn’t fulfill Jason’s. -dollish

[cece693]

Don't Leave Me Again

pairing: the joker x male reader tags: you have a life outside of being a hero, someone is unhappy about this, the joker has a heart, mentions of Harley, you're confused as fuck, pre-relationship???

You hadn’t planned on disappearing so abruptly—not from your city, not from your ‘hero’ identity, and certainly not from him. But personal life had a way of derailing even the best-laid crime-fighting agendas. So, you slipped away for a week to settle family matters, leaving Gotham’s underbelly to simmer. You told yourself it was only a handful of days; the Joker would manage to keep himself occupied.

But unbeknownst to you, the Joker spent every hour of that week on edge. No maniacal plans. No elaborate heists. Harley tried her best to snap him out of it—she brought him new gadgets, proposed wild getaways, even orchestrated a mid-day raid on the GCPD. Yet none of it earned more than half-hearted grins or dismissive shrugs. Something in the Joker’s mechanical, forced laughter told everyone around him he was lonely.

The very moment you step back into the night—costume gleaming, posture tense, heartbeat hammering in your ears—you sense an odd hush over your usual battleground. Where chaos and cackling might once have rung out, all you hear is the faint drip of water through Gotham’s gutters. Your footsteps echo.

Suddenly, he appears—painted face lit up by a half-broken streetlamp. There’s that grin, feral and blood-red, but in his eyes there’s an intensity you’ve never quite seen before. You brace yourself for the inevitable barrage of taunts and witty one-liners. But they never come.

Instead, the Joker rushes forward with unsettling speed. You tense, ready for an attack—when, to your shock, he crashes into you in a full-bodied, messy embrace. Arms lock around your torso, his legs almost twine around your waist in what can only be called an “octopus cling.” The sudden warmth of him nearly topples you as he clings on with an unexpected desperation.

“Wha—?!” you manage to sputter, your arms pinned to your sides.

The Joker says nothing at first, just buries his face against your shoulder with such force you fear he might leave a clownish smear of face-paint on your gear. He’s trembling— not in fear or anger, but in a bizarre cocktail of relief and exhaustion. It’s so unlike him that you simply stand there, heart pounding, while he holds on as though he never wants to let go.

At length, a muffled voice erupts against your chest, the laughter sounding watery and uneven: “You, you…disappeared.” He tries for his usual sing-song lilt, but the undercurrent of vulnerability is impossible to ignore.

For a moment, you’re at a loss. Every nerve in your body expected a fight, not a clingy greeting. You try to peel him off. He’s not budging. A squeak of a laugh escapes him—weak, but genuine.

“You—why—?” you start again, thoroughly baffled.

He finally leans back just enough for you to see the theatrical curves of his painted mouth. “Missed you,” he wheezes, then tries to flash his trademark grin. But the corners falter. “It was so dreadfully dull without you around.”

You blink, speechless. This bizarre display, this surprisingly human longing in the eyes of Gotham’s Clown Prince of Crime, has you off-balance. Slowly—almost without thinking—you lift one hand to pat his back, as if calming a frightened animal.

His grin tightens in an attempt to resume normalcy, but the shimmer in those eyes remains. “Don’t you dare run off for that long ever again,” he mumbles. He tries to lace it with menace, but the words come out sounding almost pleading.

You open your mouth to reply, only to realize you’re not sure what to say. A lump of conflicting emotions swells in your chest—relief, annoyance, inexplicable fondness, and maybe even a bit of guilt.

He doesn’t let go, and you don’t force him to. The city’s night air envelops you both, and if anyone’s watching, they might be more shocked than if you had thrown each other through a wall.

That’s when you realize: for all the chaotic energy he can summon, for all the mania and brutality he’s capable of the Joker is clinging to you like you’re his lifeline. And for just a little while, you let him. Because in this utterly bizarre moment of stillness, you realize you missed him, too—in spite of every reason not to.

[slut4thebroken]

Doctor’s Orders

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jonathan Crane x patient!reader

Summary | Jonathan Crane wears a weak dose of fear toxin as cologne to his appointments just to put his patients on edge. He’s particularly fond of how you react to it though.

Warnings | Smut, 18+, sexual content, manipulation, inappropriate use of fear toxin, obvi, very dubious consent, painful sex, fearplay, HEAVY breeding kink, forced breeding, technically housewife kink?, overstimulation, abuse of power?, ionno lol.

Words | 3.3 k

Notes | Based on this post. Credit to @lasagnebats for the idea. (Lowkey the plot kind of deviated from the whole fear cologne thing tbh but it’s still very relevant so whatever lmao)

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

It’s not mentioned in the actual story but it’s very important for the plot so incase you didn’t read the summary I’m going to say it again lol. He wears a weak dose of fear toxin as his cologne.

“How are you feeling today?” He asked as he walked in and sat down across from you, putting his briefcase at his feet. 

“Better.” You said with a small smile. After only a moment though, your heart started beating harder and faster, and your breathing picked up. You swallowed thickly and cleared your throat before adding, “I- I think.”

“You think?” His voice sent a shiver through your body. You weren’t sure if he was purposely trying to sound threatening, but that’s how you heard it. 

“I…” You couldn’t look at him as your stomach started churning. 

“Please look at me when I'm talking to you.” He sighed, making your gaze snap back to him. “We won’t get anywhere if you continue to overreact to even the simplest questions.” 

“I know— I know. I’m sorry.” You started bouncing your leg incessantly, trying to get rid of some of the nerves you were feeling. “H-how are you?” You asked in return to his original question. 

“Always so polite.” He said with an amused smile. “Why is that?”

“I don’t know… That’s just how I was raised I guess.” You shrugged, not having a better answer for him. 

“It has nothing to do with how terrified you are of upsetting me?” He asked curiously, tilting his head as he looked you up and down. 

“I- I’m not…” You cleared your throat and wiped your sweaty palms on your pants. “I was just… taught to respect people with more authority than me.” You said nervously. But it was true. You were always taught to show respect to people above you no matter what, especially if they were older than you. 

“I see. And you feel I have power over you right now?” 

“Yes.” You said quietly. Doesn’t he always?

“Well I don’t want you to fear me. These sessions are pointless if you can’t be completely open and honest with me.” You looked away from him again and swallowed the lump in your throat. “I promise you, nothing you say will upset me. I just want you to be truthful with me… So I can help you to the best of my ability. Do you understand?”

“Yes..” 

“Good.” He paused, seemingly coming up with the next topic of conversation. “You’re still having nightmares?” Your blood ran cold and your heart was almost starting to hurt with how hard it was beating. And all just because of a reminder of it. 

“Yes.” You whispered. 

“The same ones? Or something different.” 

“The same… But I noticed that they tend to happen more after our sessions than on days where I don’t see you…”

“Yes, that’d make sense. Since we talk about it, it’s only natural your brain would be thinking about it more.” 

“Right. Yeah— You’re right.” You said through a breath. 

“May I see your hand?” He suddenly asked, making you stiffen. 

“What?”

“Your hand.” He held out his own, waiting for you to place yours on top. With a shaky breath, you wiped your hand on your pants again, then placed it on his open palm. He turned it over so your palm was against his, then let out a quiet hum. Before you could ask what that meant, he grabbed your wrist and held your hand up, watching it tremble. He released you and you placed it back in your lap. 

“Why are you so scared?” 

“It… it's probably just because I started thinking about the nightmares.” That was the only explanation that made sense. It’s not like you’d be scared for no reason.

“Really? What were you thinking about?” You froze and looked away from him, trying to recall, but you never actually thought about them, more so just… remembered them. 

“I… I’m not sure.” You said absentmindedly, still trying to figure it out. He sighed quietly and took off his glasses, examining you closely. 

“I like to think that we’ve grown a bit closer since our first session. Wouldn’t you?” All you could do was nod wordlessly. “Almost like we’re more than just doctor and patient… Do you feel that way as well?” 

“I- I think so.” You said quietly. It was hard to tell right now. 

“Which is why I think we can try something that might work better for you.” He stood up and dragged his chair around the table, the loud screeching sound making you flinch. He sat down next to you and you waited nervously for what was next. 

“I think… if your brain is half focused on something else— something pleasurable…” he placed his hand on your thigh and leaned closer to you, “then you might be able to talk freely about what’s troubling you. What do you think?” Your chest was heaving as you stared at him with wide eyes, not able to respond. It felt like your throat was closing up and the speed at which your heart was beating made it feel like his hand was on your chest instead of your thigh, pushing down as hard as he could.       

“Is something wrong?” He asked once he noticed your reaction. 

“I-” You choked out, not able to say anything else. 

“Hm?” He waited, giving you a chance to respond. When you didn’t, he sighed. “As your doctor, if you’re in a state that leaves you unable to think or communicate clearly, it is my responsibility to do what I think is best.” His hand started snaking up your thigh, moving toward the center as it climbed higher. His touch was burning a trail on your skin and it was getting harder and harder to breathe. 

“Just relax. You want to actually make some progress, don’t you?” You gave him the tiniest nod, unable to do anything else. “Good girl. If you can control your emotions, then we can talk like civilized people, but for now, we’re going to have to try this.” You weren't even sure what exactly was making you feel this way, but you trusted Dr. Crane. He would only do what’s best for you. 

“Take off your pants.” He suddenly ordered, making your body go completely rigid. “I won’t repeat myself.” He warned and you immediately scrambled to take them off. Once they were on the floor, he grabbed your hips and guided you so that you were straddling his thighs, sitting on his lap. “Now, this might be a bit overwhelming for you, so I don’t mind if you need to keep your face buried against my chest or neck. Like this,” he gently grabbed the back of your head and pulled you into him, “see?” 

“Thank you.” You whispered, bringing your hands up the grab at his suit jacket. It felt like your entire body was trembling now. “Dr. Crane, I- I don’t feel very good.”

“Shh. Your body’s just excited. That’s why your heart is racing and your breathing is shallow.” He explained calmly. You’ve never felt this ‘excited’ before in your life. “Are you going to let me do my job now?” You nodded, burying your face into the crook of his neck to comfort yourself. “Thank you.” His hands started dragging up and down your thighs, just getting you used to his touch, but all it was doing was making you more anxious. His fingertips felt like claws on your hypersensitive body, but when you looked down, you saw no marks left behind. 

“I know you’re excited but you need to try and calm down.” He said calmly. “Take a deep breath through your nose, then out through your mouth.” You complied, though it wasn’t nearly as slow as he actually wanted. But it was an improvement. “Again. Deeper.” You inhaled again, trying to let the smell and warmth of his body soothe you. But it was like the deep breaths were making everything worse. 

“Dr. Crane, it’s not— I…” He sighed and your stomach churned when you realized he was disappointed in you. “No- I’m sorry. I’ll try again. I’ll keep trying.” You rushed out, taking more deep breaths. 

“That’s a good girl. Nice and slow.” His hands snaked up your thighs to your hips, then up the sides of your body, under your shirt. 

“W-what are you doing?” You choked out, when he dragged his hands up even more until he was touching your breasts. 

“Just feeling your heartbeat.” He explained. You gasped when he gently squeezed your breasts, groping them in a way that made your entire body feel hot. 

“Dr. Crane?” You whimpered and he shushed you. So you clung to his suit jacket and buried your face into the crook of his neck even more, seeking comfort. 

“I’ll need to remove your shirt. It’s obstructing my examination.” You hesitantly agreed and he pulled it over your head, then guided you back into the same position, now only in a pair of panties. “Deep breaths.” He reminded you as he continued. He only groped you for a few seconds before focusing his attention on your nipples. You let out a strangled moan when he gently pinched, rolling them between his fingers. You’ve never been overly sensitive there before, but right now, just the barest touch sent a shock through your body. 

“Your heart is racing.” He commented, flattening his hands on your chest and sliding them down your stomach. He reached your hips and gripped them tightly, then pulled them forward to grind your clothed heat on his bulge. You gasped at the sudden movement and when you felt the obvious sign of his arousal. 

“When’s the last time you’ve been fucked?” His tone remained the same; clinical, unemotional. It took you a moment to register his question, but once you did, a blush took over your face. “You’ve been a patient here for a few months now so I’m assuming at least a few months ago?” All the work you did to calm your breathing was gone in an instant. Words couldn’t form in your mouth, so you just nodded against his chest. “How long before that?” 

“I… I don’t remember.” You choked out, finally able to speak. 

“Poor thing. It’s been that long since you’ve been filled?” He cooed with faux sympathy. 

“Dr. Crane.” You sobbed, fisting his suit even tighter to ground yourself. He was still guiding your hips and you started to feel arousal pooling in your stomach. 

“Is that why you’re not making any progress? Your cunt’s been craving a cock so bad, you can’t even think?” You whined and started moving your hips on your own now, desperate for more. “Yeah I think that is the reason. You’re in your prime child bearing years, it’s only natural you’d be longing to breed.” You let out a strangled moan, feeling both humiliated and aroused by his words. “A few more sessions like this and you might actually be able to use that pretty little head of yours again.” 

“Please,” You whined, tears of desperation brimming in your eyes. Your heart was still pounding and your breathing was still shallow, but it started feeling different. Before, you weren’t sure what the cause was, but now you know it’s arousal. At least it mostly is. He suddenly gripped your chin and pulled your head so your face was only inches from his. As his eyes trailed all over your face, taking you in, he hummed in thought, still staring at you with his piercing gaze. 

“Misattribution of arousal truly is a fascinating subject.” He smiled. You had no idea what that meant. “Take off your underwear.” He suddenly ordered, making your eyes widen. When he stared at you, giving you a warning gaze, you scrambled off his lap to remove them. He started unbuckling his belt, then opening his pants. When he took out his cock, your breath caught in your throat. Where is that supposed to fit?

“Sit.” You tentatively got on his lap again. He sat back in the metal chair a little, dragging his eyes down your body. “Put it in.” You swallowed and looked between his face and his length, feeling your heart start pounding even harder. “Now.” Biting your trembling lip, you grabbed his cock and put it at the right angle, then slowly and apprehensively lowered yourself onto it. You whimpered when he first breached your opening, immediately feeling the burn of the stretch. 

“You won’t like it if I have to take over so I suggest you do better than this.” He warned and you whined in response, but forced yourself down lower. 

“It hurts, Dr. Crane.” You whimpered, hoping for sympathy from the cold, apathetic doctor. 

“Enough.” He growled, grabbing your hips and lifting you off of him. He stood and spun you around to push your torso onto the cold metal table with a hand on the back of your neck. Holding you down firmly, he pushed his cock back in, this time going all the way. You cried out and scrambled for purchase on the table as he immediately started thrusting. 

“W-wait, Dr. Crane..” You choked out, the burning stretch bringing tears to your eyes. Not bothering with replying, he removed the hand from your neck and you heard clothes rustling, then he was putting his tie between your lips and wrapping it around your head to secure it. Almost instantly those feelings flared up again. Your chest heaved as you panted, trying to ignore how much it was hurting from your heart beating so fast and hard. 

He put his hand on your head this time, forcing your cheek onto the cold metal as he held you down and started moving faster. You sobbed out a moan and squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on calming down but everything was just so much. 

“Is this what you needed? Have you been playing the role of the dumb little patient this whole time just to get me to fuck you?” You tried to shake your head, but you couldn’t move it under his hand. “I can feel you pulsing around my cock. Is it really that good?” The way he was mocking you had you squeezing your thighs together, but he couldn’t have that. He lifted one of your legs and placed it on the table, keeping you from getting any real stimulation on your clit besides his balls smacking against it with every thrust. 

“Please!” You cried, the word being muffled by the tie. 

“I know. You’re probably so eager to come right now, aren’t you?” You did your best to nod, despite him holding you down. “Is the thought of finally getting bred making you all needy?” He asked condescendingly and you let out a strangled whimper. “Should I let you come on my cock?” 

“Yes!” You yelled, trying to make it sound coherent through the gag. He released your head and grabbed your shoulders, starting a brutal pace that made you almost scream from the intensity. The table was screeching against the floor with each thrust and you could start to hear his quiet grunts as he neared his orgasm.

“Go ahead then. Show me how needy this pathetic little cunt is for my cock.” He said and, despite the degrading words, you almost cried in relief. You’ve only made yourself come maybe a handful of times since being admitted to Arkham, so it did not take much longer for you to get there. You all but screamed around the gag when it hit you, making your legs turn to jelly. His thrusts didn’t even waiver, but you could hear groans coming from him. Wave after wave of pleasure washed through you, so intense that it bordered on painful. 

When it was finally done, you sagged into the table, but your body immediately went stiff when the overstimulation kicked in. You cried out and squirmed, trying to escape it, so he grabbed your hair and yanked you up, wrapping his other arm around your stomach. 

“I know.” He pulled your head back until it was resting on his shoulder, then turned it so your face was up against his neck. “Just breathe through it.” But you couldn’t. Everything was just too much. You sobbed loudly and buried your face in the crook of his neck as he fucked you, moving both hands down to grab your hips. 

“Just be a good girl and take it. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? To be fucked and bred like a bitch in heat.” You let out a strangled sob at the degrading words. “No… It’s what you needed.” He growled, making you whimper. “Don’t worry, we’re going to keep doing this until I finally fuck a baby into you. Maybe then you’ll be less cock hungry. But we’ll probably have to keep this up while you’re pregnant because of all the hormones.” After your orgasm, everything your body was going through started to feel like it was from fear again, rather than arousal. His words were making you spiral into overthinking. You can’t have a baby yet— you’re too young. And also there’s the fact that you’re in an asylum… 

“And I think… I might make you my little lab rat. You respond so well to such a small dose, I’m eager to see how you’ll react to something more potent.” Now you were truly confused, but you were also too fucked out and overstimulated to try and understand. “God— that’ll be a fucking sight.” He choked out, rutting into you more frantically. Tears started streaming down your cheeks as he kept fucking you, getting more painful with every thrust. But based on the way his sounds kept getting louder, you knew it’d be over any second now.  

You cried out when he roughly snapped his hips into you and stayed there, wrapping his arms around your torso to keep you close and letting out a low groan. His hips bucked forward with every spurt of come that left his cock, despite the fact that he was already completely inside, pressed up against your cervix uncomfortably. Even after his orgasm ended, he remained buried inside you, keeping you plugged up for now.  

“That’s better, isn’t it? Now you’re nice and full.” He spoke softly, turning his head to kiss your neck as his hand rubbed over your lower stomach. “Mm… I can’t wait to see your belly all big and round— your tits swollen with milk. You’re going to look so beautiful.” Even though everything calmed down, you still felt anxious and scared. “And I’m sure once that kid is out, you’ll go back to being a brainless little bitch in heat so I’ll have to fuck another one into you.” You let out a weak sound, unable to do anything else. Your whole body was shaking. With how you were currently feeling, his words sounded like a threat. 

“Still can’t use that pretty head?” He asked curiously. You didn’t answer, but it didn’t seem like he expected you to. “You must need more, then.” You whined at the thought. He gently pushed your torso back onto the table and you hissed in pain when he dragged his cock out. When his come trickled out, he cursed under his breath. Using his thumbs, he spread your puffy, abused folds, giving him a better view of your gaping hole. You flinched when he used his fingers to scoop up his come and push it back in. “Lucky for you, I cleared the rest of my schedule today just for this session, so I can keep giving you load after load until you drain my balls completely. Maybe then you’ll actually be able to fucking think.” 

Taglist (join here)

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[ebodebo]

Be Quiet and Drive (Far Away)

—thinking about meeting the big bad arkham knight for the first time…consume at your own discretion.

current warnings: 18+ SMUT MDNI, dark themes, fem!reader, dubcon, p in v, angst, some biting (literally just one lol), jason being a little meanie, ooc bc it's hard for me to write him being overly mean, no aftercare, blindfolding, depictions of violence, orgasm delay & denial.

please heed the warnings before reading!

When the Dark Knight himself called on your help, you never imagined it would involve sitting on the edge of an abandoned shopping mall on Founder's Island, of all places, to keep an eye on a new vigilante whose name you didn't even know.

You had been sitting quietly on your perch for what felt like an eternity, your muscles ached slightly from remaining so still, but you knew that patience was key.

You glanced down at your watch waiting for the slightest signal from Babs—heart racing with anticipation, hoping for the moment she would finally give you the signal to proceed.

"You find out anything else about him, Babs? You speak through the intercom in your mask to Barbara, unable to deal with the dead silence any longer.

"Negative," she mechanically says.

"Does anyone know anything about this guy?" You question, eyes glazing over some military militia fililing in and out of the mall.

"His background is fairly limited, which is why you're there—to gather more intel," she says, tapping away at her computer. "Sources can't seem to agree on much more than his name," she briefly pauses, "The Arkham Knight."

"The Arkham Knight? Who calls themselves that? Must be a fuckin' lunatic," you remark, narrowing your eyes to get a better look at the figures.

"If only that were the case," Babs sighs. "He's shrewd and sharp. More importantly, he appears to have a vendetta, which makes him particularly dangerous. He seems to understand Bruce thoroughly—he's done his homework."

"Could it be an well-adversed escapee who made it into the city? Maybe Bruce left a bad taste in his mouth after being thrown in the asylum, so now he holds a grudge against him?" You prob, the uncertainty hanging in the air.

"Highly unlikely. No one within the asylum would have the capability to organize, let alone lead, such a massive assault," Babs states firmly, her conviction unwavering.

"Well, one things for sure, this 'Arkham Knight' may think he knows the ole' bat, but nobody really knows him," you say, making a conscious effort to ease some tension.

"His militia is heading to the north side," Babs states decisively. "Approach from the south side to avoid detection."

"Gotcha," you aver, using a grappel gun to maneuver yourself off the side of the building, and into the gritty dirt beneath you.

"Be careful. He's—he's dangerous. Stay alert," Babs warns, her voice wobbiling ever so slightly.

"I will. Over and out," you affirm, with a nod.

You make your way to the south side entrance, staying low and quiet to avoid the militia thugs patrolling the area.

As you approach the stairs leading to the generator that Babs disabled earlier, you climb up and squeeze into the vent, positioning yourself just under the entrance of the department store.

Peering through the grates, you spot several armed thugs escorting someone into the building.

Gripping the voice synthesizer strapped to your thigh, you bring it to your mouth and quietly issue a command.

"Got another three out by the front gate. Three more by the other. Need backup out here," you say, your voice altered to sound like a guard's.

"Affirmative," one of the men responds, signaling to his comrades where they need to go.

They acknowledge him and shuffle out.

"It's almost too easy," you think to yourself before dropping through the grates and sneaking down the maintenance corridor leading to the upper floors.

Bruce had already done the bulk of fixing the broken elevator.

All you need to do is press the panel behind the elevator door to reveal the large shaft below, where the fans, thanks to Bruce, are now stationary.

You ease your way down the elevator shaft silently with your grapple gun. You find your way down with ease, feeling a little overly cocky.

Turning to your side, you see two thugs that are sprinting over to you, weapons in hand.

"Shit," you curse, propelling yourself up to kick one of their weapons out of their hands, before swinging your foot across his face with much force, sending him to the ground.

The other is more stubborn.

He shoots at you, but he misses.

You kick the weapon from his hand, but he swings at your face, sending you back before he slams your body into the ground.

You use what strength you have to rock yourself up, slamming your head against his, catching him off guard, and sending him back off of you.

You haphazardly stand as he sprints back towards you. You swipe your leg across, tripping him and making him fall to the ground.

You hit him in the head with your grapple gun, so he'll pass out. You exhale deeply, catching your breath, eyes catching sight of a hazy figure to your side.

"Ah. Look what we have here. A stray bat," a modulated voice spoke.

You turn to face the person wearing a militaristic version of a bat suit. "Who the hell are you?" You gruff, spitting some blood out.

"Who the hell am I?" He retorts, sounding amused, before his voice turns cold and distorted. "No. Who the hell are you?"

"A fuckin' fairy," you dryly say, spitting more blood out.

He lets out a gravelly, mirthless chuckle. "Got jokes. Huh?"

You narrow your eyes at him. "I'm not a bat."

He hums, inching closer, his heavy boots making a metallic thud with each step. "It's in your best interest to not lie to me," he leers.

"I'm not," you hiss. "I'm just helping him."

He hums, low and ominous. "Didn't think the big bat needed help," he sneers. "Guess I was mistaken."

Before you could speak, a low voice echoed around the room. "Commander," a militia thug says, addressing the man you were speaking to, not sparing you a glance.

"What do you want?" The modulated voice grits, clearly agitated by his intrusion.

"Someone's hacked our communication system. Impersonated a guard," the militia thug says in a reverent tone.

The Knight lets out an irritated sigh, eyes darting to the militia thug. "Little late on the heads up," his tone cold and calculated as he gestures to you.

The military thug draws his gun up to point at your head.

The Knight holds his hand up. "Don't bother. I'll take care of her," he exasperates. "If anyone else slips in these walls under your watch, I'll kill you."

The militia thug nods, dropping his gun to a resting position.

"Get out of my face," the Knight spits, striding the thug out of the room.

"You're him," you state with complete certainty. "The Arkham Knight."

"The one and only," his tone is smug and oozing confidence.

This doesn't make sense.

Bruce said he never comes to lower floors, especially with so little protection around him.

"What? Cat got your tongue," the Knight jests in a sarcastic, mocking tone, boots clunking as he inches closer.

"No. I'm—I'm just in awe of how ridiculous that suit looks," you sputter without realizing what you're saying, anxiety clawing up your spine as he steps in front of you.

He lets out a condescending laugh. "Was gonna go for black, but I didn't want Bruce to get all jealous," he drags out his words lazily, sarcasm apparent in his tone, before grabbing you by the arm.

You knew better than to try and fight him.

He had a whole militia on his side and you, a mere grapple gun.

He moved you through several corridors, passing several militia men strapped with weapons.

He had converted the once cheerful, bright mall into a military base with sandbags, barricades, and checkpoints around the area.

"Must have cost a fortune," you murmur under his tight grip as he leads you through another dark corridor.

"The cost is irrelevant. What matters is the results," his tone is dismissive and arrogant. "And soon Gotham will see the true value of my investment."

You nod weakly, turning to look forward as he leads you into a room heavily guarded by more militia members. Your eyes glaze around the room he pushed you into.

The room was sterile.

It had a bed to the side, maps, strategic plans scattered across the walls, and various gadgets.

If you had to guess, it was a bedroom.

Though it was devoid of any personal touches.

Seemingly serving only as a place of respite.

"What is this room?" You ask curiously, staying stationary as he closes the door behind him.

"Rest room," his voice is dry.

"Why so sterile?" You ask, feeling a surge of confidence.

He hesitates a moment, deciding how much to reveal. "This room...serves its purpose. It's a place to rest and recharge. Nothing more," he says in a guarded tone.

"Why'd you bring me here?" You question with caution.

"You're a liability," he rasped. "I should eliminate you for the sake of my mission."

As he spoke, he closed the distance between you, his face inches from yours.

"What?" Your eyes lock with his, bile rising up your throat. "You're just...going to kill me?"

"I might," he answers, cold and dark. "If you prove to be resourceful to me...perhaps I'll let you live."

You let out a shallow breath. "How do you mean?"

"How do I mean?" He dryly chuckles as he retorts your question. "How do you think I mean?" He questions, already slightly irritated.

He bends down next to you to pick up a loose piece of fabric. "Put the blindfold on," he says hastily, ripping off your mask.

You jerk your face to the side as he does so.

"Why?" You timidly question as he presses the fabric to your chest.

"Stop asking so many God-damn questions," his words were icy and clipped. "You want to leave?"

"Yes," you whisper.

"This is the price of your freedom," he asserted.

"Put it on."

You hesitate for a moment before taking the piece of fabric and placing it over your eyes, tying it tightly in the back. Then you stand there, fingertips playing the hem of your shirt to try and suppress your uneasiness.

All you hear is a faint hiss from what you assume is his mask as he pulls it off his face, revealing a simple black mask that covers the majority of his face except his eyes and mouth.

You can hear your heartbeat in your ears, inhaling a deep breath.

"What's wrong? Nervous?" He taunts, his voice unmodulated, gloved fingers coming up to trace down your jawline.

You pull away slightly, not expecting it.

"Ease up," he says, his hand coming back up to brush up on your skin.

You don't move under his touch this time, letting his hand explore your body.

"Never touched a woman before?" You sarcastically question, as his hands skim to the bottom of the shirt, easing it up a little.

"What business is that of yours?" He asks, his voice a little defensive.

"Need to know what I'm working with," you jokingly say.

He jerks you towards him by your hand. You squeal at his harsh touch. "Make no mistake. I am in control. I can kill you or have you killed with the snap of my fingers," he snarls.

"Do not test my patience."

You release a shaky breath at his sudden change.

"Nod, so I know you hear me," he adopted his signature authoritative tone.

You nodded fervently to not piss him off again.

"Good girl," he praises, fingers gripping the hem of your shirt again, pulling it over your head and throwing it on the ground.

The tension was palpable as you stood before him in your simple bra and pants.

You were at his mercy.

The thought didn't scare you as much as it should have. Instead, you found a strange thrill in the unexpected, a pleasure in the unknown.

He steps closer, the metallic clank of his boots giving away his position. You can feel his warm breath on your skin. The feeling made your chest tighten and palms clammy with disquiet.

You jumped a little as you felt his lips press into yours with a blazing kiss, though your lips moved with much haste against his, moving a mile a minute.

What the hell were you doing?

Your mind was a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts, but your body seemed to have a mind of its own.

This was a recon mission, and yet here you were, kissing the very same guy you were supposed to help take down.

The internal conflict was tearing you apart.

This was you bartering for your freedom, you try to rationalize.

But then, why were you so hot and bothered?

You couldn't help the knot that twisted in your stomach at the fiery exchange and the pool of wetness you're sure had gathered in your panties.

"Take your pants off," the words fall off his tongue in a mumble into your lips, almost as if it was an ask.

But you knew it was an order.

Your hands move quickly to the waistband of your pants, tugging them down rather quickly. Then, you step over them to push them to the side.

He hums a sound of satisfaction. "So obedient."

You release a sigh, notably unlike your previous ones out of apprehension.

This one was all pleasure; there was no mistake about that.

His lips press back to yours briefly but powerfully before his hands tug down your panties.

"Christ. Do you like this?" His tone is incredulous and skeptical as he sees some of your glistening arousal.

You don't answer, only swallow hard.

"Answer me," he commands, firm and detached.

"Yes," you swiftly say.

He huffs at your revelation, outwardly revolted though internally pleased. You feel his hands push you back until your legs hit the edge of a bed before forcing you to lay back.

You lay docile as you hear the soft hiss of seals releasing as he shed his suit. The creak of armor plating echoed around the room, followed by a rustle of fabric and wiring as the suit's inner layer was exposed.

His fingers skim your thighs, eliciting a whine from you as he maneuvers himself on top of your body. Without warning, his cock slides into your aching cunt.

He grunts at the contact as he slips himself deeper into you.

Your body jerks forward, mouth hanging wide open as he pumps himself in and out of you, gripping your thighs tightly.

He moves quickly and has no plans to slow down anytime soon, and you need to come.

So, you slowly move your fingers down to rub small circles around your clit, moaning loudly.

He scowls, leaning down to bite your shoulder in warning.

You hiss as his teeth sink into your flesh.

"Behave," he instructs, pulling your hand away from your aching clit.

He grips your leg so it lays flat against his chest, letting him hit a deeper angle that has him groaning.

"What would the Dark Knight have to say?" His tone is venomous as he continues. "Huh?" He urges. "His latest project getting fucked by me?" He grits, fingers digging deeper into the fat of your thigh.

"Should I make you ask him?"

"Ask him your fuckin' self," you grit out, trying to concentrate on the orgasm blooming in your lower stomach.

He lets out a harsh, menacing chuckle.

"Won't have time to ask when I kill him where he stands."

You lean your head back, mouth agape, feeling yourself on the cusp of relief.

"Don't come," his voice booms around the small room, clouding your ears.

"I can't—I can't hold it," you whine, squirming with desire.

"You can and you will," he spat, pumping into you faster—testing you.

You let out a strangled moan as you grip the sheets under you tight, feeling your nails dig into your palms through the fabric, attempting to think about anything other than your raging need to come.

He lets out an anguished groan.

You could tell he was painfully close—as were you.

While he comes, certainly feeling euphoric, you are left with the feeling of tightness and a looming release.

"Can I—please," you beseech.

A twisted smile you can't see overtakes his face hearing you beg.

"Go on then," he stoically says—like he's being generous.

Your fingers reach down to rub your clit with speed; it doesn't take much time until you're moaning loudly, and your arousal coats your fingers, even dripping onto the sheets beneath you.

Legs shaking, you pull your fingers away, trying to recuperate.

You aren't sure you've ever had a better orgasm in your life.

"Flip over. We aren't done here," he issued in a low tone, just as you were coming down from your high.

You paused briefly before weakly flipping your body over so your stomach lay flat on the bed.

He grips your hips upward, positioning you so your hands and knees are pressed into the mattress, making you hiss due to soreness.

Pulling you by your hips back, he positions his cock into your entrance, slipping inside you with ease again. You wail at the contact, still delicate—he doesn't care.

He pumps faster and faster with no regard to your sensitive state, fingers digging into your hips as he pushes you back onto him.

You're already starting to feel a tightness in your stomach, signaling your impending orgasm.

You won't last long with him drilling into you so rapidly, and the groans that fall from his lips have you panting and wailing.

Since he appears to like a beggar—you beg.

"Please. Can I—can I?" You plead, feeling your cunt start to tighten around his cock.

"Oh. You're not coming again," he spoke, his voice gravelly and breathy. "This one is just for me—just for me."

You let out a whine as you feel him come, cursing under his breath again as you are left with the feeling of tension and longing.

His breathing is labored as he shuffles to put his gear back on. You stay in the same position he left you in until he orders you to do otherwise.

"Get dressed," his voice is modulated again.

It's colder.

You slowly get off the bed, stand, and attempt to skim for your clothes with the stupid blindfold on.

He rips it off. "Leave. Now. Before you find I'm not so merciful the second time around," his tone was eerie.

You nod feebly, gripping your clothes and slipping them on impetuously, not even checking if they are inside out or facing the right way.

Turning on your heels, you head for the door you came in, looking over your shoulder when you hear his voice again.

"And remember, you owe me for not slaughtering you," his voice dripped with malice.

You turn back, forcefully pushing the door open as you walk with intention and speed toward the back exit.

He knew you wouldn't tell the Bat anything.

What could you tell him?

That the Arkham Knight fucked you so good you're going to be sore for the weeks to come.

You slip your mask on to alert Babs that you are leaving the area.

Her voice booms through the intercom in your mask.

"Find anything of interest?" She questions, none the wiser.

You continue to walk, half listening.

"You there?" She implores.

"Huh? Oh, no. Nothing worth noting," you suspire.

"Are you alright?" She asks with a concerned tone.

"Yeah. Just...tired. Talk later," you hurriedly say, cutting the line and making your way over to your vehicle a bit away from the facility.

The sex was transactional, you remind yourself.

Though, that reminder didn't stop the Arkham Knight's presence from lingering on your skin for days after the interaction, a haunting reminder of the forbidden thrill you'd shared.

Gotham's darkness had never felt so alive and so painfully tempting.

a/n: so, anyways...it's back lol

divider!

[devotedlyandrogynousyouth]

Hollow Cage

AK! Jason Todd x Hostage! Reader

TW: Mental abuse, brief mentions of physical abuse, kidnapping, mentions of death, guilt tripping, all of the fun things you'd kinda assume would be in a fic like this.

Lmk if y'all want more of this!

You used to think love was a choice. That staying meant something. That it was proof of loyalty, of devotion. What utter bullshit. Does it really exist if there's no way out?

Jason doesn’t call it captivity. He calls it protection. And maybe, in some twisted way, he believes that. But you know better. The steel walls of the militia compound aren’t just barriers against the outside world. They’re a coffin for the person you used to be. For who that scrawny, little Robin used to be.

At first, you fought. Not physically—you knew better than that. Jason cared just a little too much: enough to never lay a hand on you, at least. But you pleaded, argued, reasoned. Tried to remind him of who he was, of who you both were before.

Before he died.

But Jason doesn’t like talking about that. He doesn’t even like you saying his name half the time. He’s the Arkham Knight now. His war is all he sees, all he breathes. And you’re just another part of the world he needs to control.

There was a time, way before any of the horrible things he's seen, that he didn't need control. He used to love uncertainty and thrills. He used to love the magic that being Robin gave him.

He used to love you.

It hadn’t been like this in the beginning. When he first took you, there was still a sliver of the boy you loved beneath the armor. His hands had been careful when they came anywhere near, his voice almost gentle beneath the modulators of his helmet when he told you he was keeping you safe. But as the days bled into weeks, the edges of that gentleness frayed. Now, he barely looks at you.

You catch glimpses sometimes—flashes of regret, of something softer behind his mask. But they’re fleeting, gone before you can grasp them.

And every day, hope rots inside you a little more.

The base is quiet tonight, as it has been for weeks. Things needed to be quiet for Jason to really surprise the Bat. Most of the militia is out, running drills, preparing for whatever Jason has planned next. You sit on the edge of the cot, staring at the heavy door. Not locked, but pointless to try. There are guards, cameras, a world outside that isn’t yours anymore.

The room is silent. Dark. So unbearably empty yet also so uncomfortably claustrophobic. That's another thing that's changed about Jason since he came back- he can't do small spaces.

You run your fingers along the band around your wrist—a tracker. He gave it to you himself, fastened it with steady hands. “So I don’t have to worry about you,” he’d said. Like it was a kindness. Like it's a privilege to have his "protection."

With a heavy swing, the door opens. Jason steps inside slowly, armored and imposing, helmet off but still distant. This is one of three times you've even seen his face since he kidnapped you. He's scarred and matured, but beneath the branding marks and marred skin, you can almost point out features of the old Robin. His eyes, now a vibrant green instead of the blue you once loved, rake over you, assessing. It's almost like he's trying to compartmentalize you, put every little action you take into a box in his mind.

“You ate?” His voice is rough, tired. Like he died all over again and just crawled his way out of his grave, fingers still bleeding with shattered nails dressing them.

You nod. He doesn’t need to know you barely touched the food. And that's it. For a long while, it's just a heavy, unspoken silence.

Jason exhales before sitting beside you. The cot dips and creaks under his weight. “I don’t like keeping you here.”

“Bullshit."

The answer is cut and dry, like you've thought of it a thousand times before. And, honestly, you have. After all these months of being nothing more than a bird in a cage, there isn't much thought to blunt answers like that. Either you speak up and thin out his patience, or stay silent and take it.

His jaw tightens. “You don’t get it.”

“You're right. I don't."

His laugh is bitter. “Did you really think you would still know me? That you could agree with me until I let you go on 'good behavior'?”

Your throat closes. No. You didn’t. Not anymore. And that’s the worst part. You know the new color of his eyes, the new scars on his skin, the drive he has to get what he wants. You know what you see- nothing less, and nothing more.

You don't see Batman's favorite Robin anymore.

Jason looks at you then, really looks at you. And for the first time in weeks, you see something crack. A glimpse of the boy who used to hold you like you were the best thing in his world.

His hand rises, hesitates, then cups your cheek. You lean into it before you can stop yourself. His touch is warm, familiar.

“I miss you,” you whisper, barely audible.

His fingers tighten against your skin, not enough to hurt, but enough to put significant pressure on your jaw. It's a show of strength and power, if nothing else. His face twists like those three words hurt more than any whack of a crowbar ever could.

Then the moment shatters. He stands abruptly, pulling away like the touch of your skin against his gloves burned. The warmth vanishes, leaving nothing but cold air and emptiness.

“Get some sleep." To anybody else, the words sound like a command. An order. But beneath that, there's a hint of a plea to his tone. The door clicks shut behind him. He doesn't lock it. He knows he doesn't have to. He knows you won't leave.

You don’t cry. You haven’t in a long time. You doubt you will any time soon, either. When kept hostage by somebody who knows every single detail about you, tears are weakness. A vulnerability that he could use to beckon you right back into his arms and cradle your trembling form to sleep.

Tears can wait. Until tomorrow night, at least. Because love isn’t a choice anymore. It’s just another prison.

Masterlist

[ennui-whimsy-and-me]

more jonathan crane content pretty please♡

Excellent timing, babes.

I just finished some headcanons I had about Jonathan being sent to Arkham.

Jonathan Crane x Reader Headcanons

When Jonathan gets locked up in Arkham, he fully believes that you’ll abandon him. Not because he believes that you’re unloyal, but because in his mind, “Why would you stay?”. Why would you put yourself at risk of danger and ridicule, for him? Because he is insecure and cynical, and he refuses to believe that someone would care that much for him. He’s not angry, but he does feel a strong bitterness for his predicament.

So, when he is brought into a visitation room to see who he expects to be a lawyer or a detective, he is surprised to see you.

He’ll sit there, not saying anything, as he studies you. The look of worry and relief that is written plainly across your face confuses him. However, he’s not about to get his hopes up, so he gives you a smirk and asks if you’ve come to say your final goodbyes to him.

He arches a brow when he’s met with a simple, “Don’t be ridiculous, Jonathan”. When you start your questions of “Are you alright? How are they treating you? Is there anyone I can call? Can I bring you anything? What can I do?” is when his walls crumble.

Because no one has ever shown him such concern or care. Not his neighbors when his grandparents abused him. Not his teachers when he was viciously bullied. But you do. You are sitting in front of him, fretting over him.

He won’t verbalize or outwardly express the relief he feels that you aren’t abandoning him. Except how he looks at you. The way he watches you during the remainder of your visit can only be described as pure adoration and affection.

When the visiting hour ends and he’s forced away from you, you hastily wrap your arms around him before the guards can tell you off. He melts. Still locked in his straitjacket, all he can do is lean into you and soak up your warmth. When your fingers tangle into his hair, he almost whines groans. All too soon he is dragged out and his mood quickly sours.

Two things happen that night. First, Jonathan finalizes his plans for escaping Arkham. Second, he decides on the kind of ring he’s going to get you.

My Friendly Neighborhood Tag : @lau219

[t3alight]

MANIC.

Bruce Wayne × criminal!Reader.

WARNINGS: OOC!Batman, dubcon, chains, cunnilingus, anal penetration, pussy slapping, toxic fucking, masturbation (f).

A/N: this isn't proofread so there might be grammatical errors. Writer's block hit hard with this one.

Bored. That's all you felt in your cell in Arkham. Everything was so plain. Nothing excited you in here, not even riling up Scarecrow. The only thing that excited you was him.

You loved his visits, he'd bring you real food and you'd only give him the right amount of information required but not too much. You wanted him to come back, he was your only source of entertainment. The only colour in the beige and plain life you had inside Arkham.

You wanted to fuck him too. You couldn't deny how wet you'd gotten before when he used to chase you. Sometimes you'd run into the most predictable places instead of disappearing just so he'd continue the chase.

Sometimes in your cell, you fingerfucked your cunt to the thought of him fucking you in a dirty alleyway, using you like a fleshlight which he'd inevitably throw away.

He visited again on Halloween and you were overjoyed. You looked at him expectantly for your usual Big Mac meal.

"Well? Where is it?"

You couldn't help but demand.

He gave you the usual staredown and then he spoke.

"I have a proposition for you. I want you to ride along with me today, you're the only one who knows where Joker's bunker is."

"What do I get in return?"

You asked.

"You'll see."

He said and so you agreed to his proposition.

The Batmobile was surprisingly comfortable to sit in, regardless of how much it looked like a tank from the outside. You had handcuffs and a bellychain which made you uncomfortable but you decided not to throw a fit, considering what you were going to do.

The raid was a bust and he knew you'd led him to the wrong bunker.

He dragged you back to the Batmobile.

"THIS could've been your ticket to freedom. You're going to pay now."

He sounded so angry and that made you so wet. He was finally going to 'punish' you.

There was a ripping sound as he ripped off your orange Arkham issued pants, your panties followed suit.

He had you bent over his knee.

THWACK

His large gloved hand came down onto your left asscheek, hard. Again on your right. This continued until he got bored.

Your poor ass was red and raw from the spanking and your cunt had drooled all over this knees.

"Insane whore."

He mumbled as he shoved you onto your back.

Soon, his lips were on your cunt and his tongue was fucking in and out of your drenched hole. He made sure to grind the nose of his cowl into your swollen clit, he wasn't going to let you completely enjoy this. Your moans were strangled and you felt like you were going to melt from all the painful pleasure.

You whined as you felt your peak approaching and he completely stilled his tongue. He continued this for a bit until your clit was painfully hard and swollen. He was relishing your pained moans and whines.

He lubed up his fingers with your slick and started working open your tight pucker.

You could tell he was getting impatient, his breathing was erratic and his cock was rock hard.

He quickly opened his zipper and took out his cock. Your mouth went dry as you glanced down at it, the tip looked red and it was leaking copious amounts of pre. He had a few prominent veins at the base of his cock and one running upto his tip. His cock was so heavy, it bent slightly to the left. His balls looked equally heavy, so full of cum.

He lifted up your thighs and positioned his thick tip against your clenched pucker.

"Relax"

He grumbled as he pushed in, knocking the wind out of your lungs. You tried to squirm but he held you down tightly.

Each inch felt agonizing as he slipped into your tight ass, you couldn't help but whimper pathetically. As soon as he was in, he started thrusting into you as hard as he could.

One hand wrapped around your throat to quieten your sobs as he fucked you into painful yet blissful oblivion. His grunts got louder as he neared his climax, his hips snapping into you more erratically.

Soon, he shot his huge load into your ass. You could feel it's feverish heat pumping into your guts. As he pulled out, a few thick globs of his spend leaked out of your gaping asshole. He gave your swollen pussy a hard slap as he tucked himself back into his trousers.

Thankfully, he got you new trousers before dropping you back at Arkham.

You were his little cumdump now and you both knew he was going to use you till you broke.

[wisteriaiswriting]

Batman and Oracle cuddling headcanons

Cuddling Headcanons

Words: 163

ʙᴀᴛᴍᴀɴ:

He’s always the big spoon, keeping you safe never stops at just crime fighting.

Is a real light sleeper, any movement you make will have him pull you closer.

He gained the habit of tangling his legs with yours during the night.

If you ever fall asleep during cuddling, you’ll wake up to either him missing, or him wrapped completely around you.

He’ll sometimes lay his head on your chest as he enjoys hearing your heartbeat, if it’s not his head it’ll be his hand.

ᴏʀᴀᴄʟᴇ:

Really prefers to be the little spoon most times, she likes to feel protected after long days protecting others.

It’s a 50/50 chance if she falls asleep during these cuddle sessions. (Especially if it’s right after work.)

If it’s needed she’ll work during your session.

This means there's a high chance anyone on the line can occasionally hear you whisper to her.

Will wrap herself in a cocoon of blankets, opening her arms for you to join.

[xan-izme]

𝐌𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞𝐬

Prologue

Part 1

Your mother was a beautiful kind and dangerous woman. In short. She was a Falcone. And for young Bruce, being with her was a thrill. Being Batman gave him a thrill, but your mother was a different kind of thrill.

Till she got pregnant. And the thrill was gone.

Your mother kept you of course. Counting the days till she gets to hold you in her arms. And when she finally got to hold you, to feel you close and hear your sweet little voice. The rest of the Falcone men decided that your mother wasn't ready to take care of you. So, they forced you out of her arms and sent you to Bruce.

Bruce held you once. And immediately passed you to Alfred. He was too young to become a father. (Never mind the fact he was already acting as a father to two boys)

He didn't have time to play daddy. Deep down Bruce did come to care for you over the years and attempted to try and hold you. But then Jason died, Dick distanced himself. Holding you, an innocent little thing, felt wrong.

When you were eight. You had tantrums. Night terrors. terribly scared of the dark. Thunderstorms especially. Gotham famous for its long dark nights and loud thunderstorms. Bruce, too busy with his new sidekick, Tim. Didn't have time to comfort you. No matter how heartbreaking your scrams for him were. Crying for him, so he can save you from whatever nightmare you have woken from.

But only Alfred occasionally Dick, would come and save you.

Bruce would give you toys, new dresses as a form of apology. He wouldn't give it to you directly. But have Alfred give it to you or leave it in your room when asleep. But no matter how many new toys he gives you. Those nightmares just never stopped.

Due to the neglect. Your mother was able to meet with you secretly. As years passed, she was able to steal you away when Alfred wasn't hovering around you. Take you to shop and give you whatever you wanted. Holding you in her arms and not wanting to let go.

Slowly, your mother was gaining the favor of some of the Falcones. To let her have you back. To welcome you back into the Falcone family. Once she gets the whole family to agree. She can make a case of child neglect against Bruce Wayne and take her sweet Babygirl back.

But when you were ten. Your powers began to kick in. You told Bruce, hoping your father would help you. Help you understand. Bruce, told you to keep it a secret. And to tell no one else.

Having a kid who was a meta was the last thing he needed at the moment. Trying to re-connect with Jason who still had deep hate for him instead focusing on his first-born child who was struggling to understand.

You felt like a freak.

And it wasn't long till you lost control of your powers. To keep it short. You accidently killed a few other kids with your powers. It was an accident. You swore. You see you would have just been left off. Your a kid. It was an accident. But most of all your a Wayne. But one of the kids you killed was a Falcone.

And Bruce couldn't risk you getting killed. He cared about you. Just not as much as he should. So, to avoid the wrath of the Falcone's. Bruce had to claim you were mentally ill. Sending you to Arkham. Only for a few months. That's what he said to you. That's what he promised.

You did your six months in Arkham. Six months turned to eight. Eight months turned to ten. Ten months turned to two years. Then finally, you were taken out from your cell. Lead by two prison guards. They said you had a visitor. You assumed it was another reporter. But was proven wrong when you see Bruce on the other side of the thick glass. You were shocked but happy to see your father.

"Daddy." You spoke softly as you slowly smile, putting your hand on the glass. Bruce hesitates to put his hand on the glass, once he does, he focused back to you. Your eyes stared at him with so much love and hope.

". . . Your case. . . the court decided you're, too unstable to attend court, so. . ." Bruce didn't look at you as he spoke. So, he couldn't see the smile on your face fade. Confusion taking over.

"But. . . I did my six months. . . I-I've been here for a year! Daddy, please I didn't do it on purpose!" You were on the edge of crying.

"I promise. I'll get you out of here as soon as I can." Bruce wanted to try and console you. But that was harder due to the glass between you two. He reaches out his hand to the glass once more. But the loud buzz that queued it was time for you to get back to your cell.

"Please Daddy don't let them take me!" You cried, putting both hands on the glass. You were in full despair. Bruce didn't know what to do. He can take the risk from the Falcones and get you out with a snap of his fingers. Or he can make it easy for everyone but you and wait till you serve your time.

". . . I'm sorry" Bruce can see you falling deeper and deeper into dispare.

Guards burst from the doors and had to forcefully take you away.

"No- No! Daddy please! DADDY!" Your screamed louder as the guards took you away, reaching out to Bruce who just stood there. And did nothing. As always.

Seven years later.

No one ever visited you again. Well, no one from the Waynes. But your mother visited you every week. Her visits where the only reason you kept saine.

Arkham isn't all fun and games. Obviously. You were immitted into Arkham's fucked version of rehabilitation. You started hearing things after your first month in Arkham.

. . .

You sent letters almost every day to the Wayne manor. But never got any back. None from Bruce. None from Dick. You and Tim weren't close. So, you didn't expect anything from him. Alfred prefers to call you. Wanting to hear your voice to make sure you were not lying to him when he asks of your wellbeing.

You stopped sending letters to Bruce a few months ago. Not like he'll respond anyway. You don't need Bruce. You have your mother. And she's all you'll need. She's your world now, your reason to keep living this pointless life. And once you're out, Mama promised to give you a big hug. Which you so desperately needed.

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

"𝙸 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚊𝚍𝚍𝚢. . . 𝚍𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚖𝚎?"

[blu3n]

EMPARELHAMENTO: Jason Todd x gn!reader

SINOPSE: jason being a big bear

NOTES: It's been a while since I did it

------

"I don’t need a babysitter, [your name]." His tone was firm and harsh. As if he didn’t want you to help with the injuries he had gotten during a mission Batman had sent him on.

"I just don’t want you to get hurt," you said, voice trembling. You didn’t like seeing him like this. Not this way. It was sexy to see him in that red armor, beating up criminals and all, but when he came back covered in blood and bullet wounds, it didn’t seem so great anymore.

Jason scoffed and took off his jacket in one sharp motion. "You think I chose this? That I like coming back looking like a walking corpse?"

"I just mean that seeing you like this hurts me! You don’t have to carry all this alone. Batman must have someone to help you—" you replied, stepping closer.

He turned his face away, his eyes red, a crease of pain between his brows. "I’ve always carried it alone. Ever since I died, ever since I came back... no one ever knew what to do with me. Not even the damn Batman."

"BUT I'M NOT Batman!" Your voice came out louder than you expected. You didn't want to fight—not when he needed your help. "I'm just… me. And I'm here, Jason. I've always been here."

He looked at you like he wanted to believe, but the weight on his shoulders seemed heavier than he was. His hardened expression began to crumble.

"You don’t understand... If you stay too close, you’ll end up getting hurt. And I don’t want to lose you too." His voice cracked at the end.

You stepped closer, gently touching his face, marked by a scratch. "Then stop pushing me away."

Jason lowered his eyes, and a tear slid down without him noticing. He didn’t answer. He simply rested his forehead against yours, as if that gesture was the only apology he knew how to give.

[styluswritesdc]

Being a Nurse within Arkham Asylum

These are my own personal thought on how this would be! I really wanted to talk about this as for my own OC! this would be her background so I decided to just write out some thoughts on how it would be for literally anyone. and how you should interact with the rogues as patients.

Now, when I say nurse I would say the job would literally entail just that. they have psychiatrists and guards who have their own responsibilities within the Asylum so I was thinking about who would be administering medications and tending to wounds and ailments within the asylum.

these would be positions filled by persons within Gotham with little education, college students or anyone desperate enough for wok and due to the nature of the asylum positions that have frequent openings and new staff.

due to the sheer amount of resignations from each post there would be little experiences demanded. I genuinely believe that if you entered your CV you'd get a call the next day with a "when can you start?" no interview, just a small chat on your first day with what the work consist of and a contract.

this contract will be an NDA to some degree due to the abuse within the system against both employees and patients. and maybe even a contract of minimum period of work due to the sheer amount of employee turnover.

this job wont pay well, its Gotham like. but its liveable. and that's the most you could hope for.

Work consists of a schedule of medication for each patient on whatever floor/wing you're designated. there might not be any possibility of changing what patients you have based on how the more familiar they get with you, the more they'll cooperate (unless harassment or legitimate violent threats like Zsasz where its completely viable and you will die lol)

you would also tend to patients injured during riots, guard violence or scraps between patients.

the best way to cope in this role is if you adapt to your patients.

the incredibly insane (not any of the rogues gallery) are unironically the easiest, they're incredibly restrained with straight jackets, mouth gags etc. they're also held down on medical beds when you do tend to them and escorted back by armed guards.

its the bloody rogues that ssuuucckk ass as patients.

this is a guide based on my opinion plus some are excluded based on them being in black gate like Selina Kyle and Penguin or I don't believe any medication would be prescribed like Ivy or Clayface (purely there for containment purposes)

Riddler sucks. waiter waiter! a riddle per pill please thank you! so annoying. if you cant answer he will not take it so be smart and it will be grand. (no one will swap with you btw) due to the inhibitors necessary to keep him from escaping he will sometimes repeat a riddle.. its actually quite sad. he will get very upset with himself if you inform him. like I'm talking hitting his head in frustration level upset. however, if you build up a repour with him he will respect you and he's actually fine to deal with ultimately. difficulty level 7/10

Scarecrow is unsettling. that's about it. don't bother lying when he asks you what you fear. you'll end up afraid of it if you do. he can tell. will probe you about your fears etc.. its stimulating for him. its something to do. that's literally the hardest part, once you get over being slightly afraid of HIM you're fine! chat to him about psychology and his work and the visits will be over before you know it. difficulty level 5/10

two face is completely dependant on their mood. if they're good then they're genuinely a sound guy and easy patient.. if he's angry then.. ugh. if the coin says no medication you're fucked but you could try and convince them by asking loophole questions for the coin and you might get lucky. if the guards take their coin you will not be able to get near them. genuinely will freak. no job done for you. difficulty level 7/10

Mad hatter is unironically piss easy. not joking. play into his delusions slightly. write "eat me" or "drink me" labels in calligraphy on the medications and you're SET. that's it just.. don't put anything he gives you on your person or like y'know.. mind control. difficulty level 2/10

killer croc, depending on the canon you're looking at, for example the Arkham games have him in the sewer under the asylum accessible via lift. they only chuck food down there every now and again its extremely inhumane but he does come up into the building sometimes for therapy appointments. the protocol could be you put the medication into his hooks of meat or give the to him at his rare visits upstairs. just treat him like a person and you'll be fine! just keep hands away per Aaron Cash's warnings. difficulty level 7/10

Harley Quinn is just a fucking joy to treat at this point. she's literally one of the few rogues to actually rehabilitate like in BTAS. she's so easy and just chat to her like you're talking over coffee and you're set. honestly is quite nice! she'll gossip about the other rogues and its actually lovely. I loovvee her. an absolute pleasure difficulty level 0/10 (give her a lollipop she was excellent.)

firefly is just a bloke really. the only reason he's here instead of black gate is because he's a diagnosed Pyromaniac. he will sit there grumpily and tell you he's gonna burn this place down one day. very much a "that's nice, sweetie" treatment. just take your pills and go man. difficulty level 1/10

Bane, depending on canon, would only be in Arkham because he's teecchnically a metahuman. he's far too intelligent and strong to be held in anything either than the high security Arkham can provide. the only reason he would be treated would be to study titans effects and monitor his condition he's pretty easy but wants to know every ingredient of the medication. not my body is a temple shit, but he wants to know what (probable) poisons the doctors are prescribing him. overall a bit tedious and annoying but lets just say it isn't hard to find a vein on this guy so difficulty level 2/10

Freeze is there for containment but would receive medications for his obsessive disorder and to monitor his condition. he is kind and honestly uncaring. he is only thinking about Nora and how he's loosing precious time to save her.... you can ask about her if you like.. he might tell you about her but.. that's about it. safety level 0/10.

joker.. is just ugh. such a fucking pain. he's held down massively and labelled as incurable. he has so many different diagnoses and its like.. what the ffuuuckk do you give him? difficulty level is you may die. (10/10)

please defend them from the guards. they're absuive and the treatment they give the patients can be abysmil.

give Edward a pack of cards, stop them from beating Jervis and crane because they're physically weaker, allow Harley to have social time, ivy to have outdoor time (with a power dampener collar on), Waylon to see the outside, bane to exercise, Fries to have a picture of Nora and please please for your own sake allow Harvey to have their coin and reprimand the guards as much as you can for taking it in the first place.

whatever you do brother PLEAASEEE keep on good terms with the patients (minus joker, he don't give a fuck) cause when there's a riot or breakout and there WILL BE ONE. you don't want these guys to see you and want to kill you. I'm not saying they'll spare you but if they see you hiding in an office or vent they might just pretend they don't see you.. and if things go REALLY well and they actually like you they might just let you go unharmed. its been demonstrated in the Arkham games and even comics that if you're a fucking asshole they will hunt you down.

[scarfacemarston]

Harvey Dent & Two Face Fluff Alphabet

I promised I'd write this and here it is! It's long, but I'm writing for two people. I worked hard on this, so if you could note or reblog, it would mean everything to me! This has multiple ships mentioned including Harvey/Gilda, BruHarvey and a potential x reader. A - Affection (how do they show affection to their s/o)

He tends to fit all five love languages regarding how he shows affection. However, he is very physical, and heaps praise on his partner.  He'll tell them how much they mean to them and everything he loves about them. He is very much so the romantic and will show up with flowers or surprise dinners out. Two Face shows love through gifts and sex. He tends to be either impersonal and nonchalant about gifts, or he can talk about how you deserve it but be a bit possessive because you're his partner. 

B - Best Friend (what are they like as a best friend?)

Loyal to a fault. He's the type to drop everything he possibly can to help someone. He'd go to extra lengths and pull strings for people if he had to. He's a great person to lean on and gives excellent advice. Two Face actually has some of the same qualities, but it comes across as gruff or in between the lines. 

C - Cuddling (do they like to cuddle? And how would they do it?)

Yes. One of Harvey's love languages is physical touch, but that changed a bit after the acid attack. He doesn't believe anyone wants to touch him and will stiffen if you do. Two Face insists that he hates anyone touching him - and he does, but with the right person, he absolutely melts. Harvey was very handsy with Gilda and loved cuddling in bed at night, in the early morning, watching TV, etc. 

D - Domestic (do they want to settle down? How good are they at cooking and cleaning)

Harvey has always wanted a family in whatever way he can, whether with Gilda, Bruce, or another partner. He definitely wants the "traditional family" in terms of spouse of any gender, children, a safe house and pets. Harvey is perfectly able to cook and clean for himself. However, he did live the busy bachelor workaholic lifestyle, so his meals weren't always the greatest. It was whatever he could find quickly on the way home or leftovers. But he can cook! He loves cooking with his partner, even if food is more challenging to eat at this point in time. Harvey can sometimes be messy if he's working on a case and has an "organized" mess. Two Face isn't a slob and is likely to also have an organized mess at times, which can make things very confusing for others. 

E - Ending (if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Harvey would want to talk it out. He would be empathetic but very clear. He wants it to be amicable if possible. However, if you did something to him, Harvey could be just as cold as Two-Face can be. Two-Face is more blunt and to the point and can be callous. His attitude is more like, "When your time's up, it's up."  

F - Fiancé (how do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Harvey absolutely wants to settle down and get married to a partner - if it's the right one. We see it in BTAS, and we see how seriously he takes commitment in the comics. Once the acid attack occurs, he doesn't think he'll ever have that chance again. It'll take a lot of convincing for him (AND Two-Face) to believe they're worth it. Harvey is more depressed, but Two Face is more bitter. Two Face is always ready for someone to be rid of him, so he'll do it first. Both can be part of a committed relationship, and Harvey would especially love it, but it'll take time and trust. I would say that Harvey would like to date a minimum of a year to two years before getting married, but if the moment feels right, he might pop the question earlier. 

G - Gentle (how gentle they, both physically and emotionally?)

Harvey can be incredibly gentle and tender. He's not as sensitive as people sometimes paint him as, but he does feel things. Two-Face can be gentle. He's not always yelling or a raging bomb—he's far more nuanced than that. Harvey can be very soft-spoken and a genuinely calming individual to be around. 

H: Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?) Harvey didn't give a lot of people hugs outside of his closest friends before the attack. He didn't receive many, either, growing up. His mother was the only person he can remember hugging him. Sometimes, people would hug him on the campaign trail, but he still wasn't exactly a fan of it. However, it's a very different story with people he loves. He loves wrapping his arms around his partner from behind while working, cooking, cuddling, whatever. His hugs are always tight, secure, and safe. After the incident in the courtroom, he doesn't want or believe he deserves hugs. They make him and Two-Face very uncomfortable. He is more likely to stiffen or even push them away. However, people like Harley will jump and hug him anyway. 

I: I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Harvey feels intensely. BTAS shows that he falls in love fast and hard. I don't think he was with Grace that long before proposing. We know he proposed to Pamela very quickly, but he was under the influence of her plant hormones, so that doesn't count. I would say that Harvey would try to wait for the right moment to declare his love, but the time could vary. Two Face… isn't the best at declaring his love. It comes across as rough and possessive, as seen in the comics. He'll say it, but he's more likely to find roundabout ways to show he cares. 

J: Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they're jealous?)

Yes, absolutely, Harvey and Two-Face get jealous. Just because Harvey is the nicer one doesn't mean he doesn't have his own issues. Some of him will be angst over it, but overall, he's more likely to grab his partner by the hand and give them the most passionate kiss. Two Face is more likely to grab his partner by the waist and glare menacingly while pulling you away from the situation. You're his partner. 

K: Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you?)

Harvey kissed Gilda quite often, and if he had been with Bruce or another partner, it would have been the same. Now, it's very awkward for him. He feels very self-conscious. He'd ask why would you want to kiss him when he's missing half his lips? Two-Face would take it as a "See? They don't really love us."....but he can definitely be proven wrong. Harvey is passionate - often romantic, but not always. There's a fire to his kisses, and that fire returns once he feels comfortable again. Two-Face, again, is possessive and dominating. He doesn't hurt you, but it's definitely a "You're my partner and don't you forget it" type of thing. Harvey likes to kiss your neck because, as an added bonus, it usually leads to something more.

L: Little Ones (How are they with kids?)

I would imagine Harvey was great with kids. It was something he truly wanted with Gilda. I can see him not having an issue holding Jim or his co-worker's kids or babysitting any nieces or nephews he'd have. Two-Face doesn't hate kids, but he doesn't really want anything to do with them. He doesn't want the staring and the poking and prodding that kids do. However, I think it'd be possible for Two-Face to warm up to a kid…if the circumstances were right. 

M: Mornings (How are mornings spent with them?)

Before the day in the courtroom, mornings were rushed. If he wanted to spend time with Gilda, he'd have to get up around 5:00 am, but he'd never want to wake her. It was usually him doing his morning routine for work, potentially remembering to grab a bagel, grab some coffee, whispering to Gilda that he loves her, and leave. On the weekends, he'd sleep in a bit, but his body would still get him up pretty early. He didn't mind it, but that doesn't always mean he'd get out of bed. Sometimes, the mornings would be spent cuddling, having sex, making a proper breakfast together, and talking about running errands or something fun they could do that day. After the courtroom incident, he began his crime spree and took on a more nocturnal routine. Good look, getting him up before 1 am or 2 am. He and Two-Face MIGHT concede to see you earlier, but that's not easy for him at this point. 

N: Night (How are nights spent with them?)

With Harvey, he would work late into the night on case files or meet up with Jim and Batman. Again, he didn't sleep too often unless his body was about to give out. However, when his workaholic tendencies weren't getting to him, he'd try his best to be home by 6:00 pm and have dinner with Gilda. He didn't usually watch TV in the evenings - Gilda forbade the news, saying he had enough of that during the day………..BUT, he would watch reruns of Star Trek if he was feeling nostalgic or depressed. Sometimes, he'd read before bed, whether it was a law book, a mystery novel, or, surprising to some - a comic book. Sex was also on the table.

Afterward, he and Two-Face spend most of their nights planning heists, organizing crimes, figuring out how to deal with his opponents, avoiding the Bat, recruiting people to work for them, or dealing with the mob - something he still hates. He doesn't really do anything for fun. However, he and Two-Face drink and sometimes smoke - sometimes he visits the Iceberg lounge, but overall, it's still work, work, work. A romantic partner would HAVE to pull him and Two-Face away from their work, which would not be easy. However, the more they fall in love, the more they will set aside time for you. 

O: Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?) Despite Harvey being warm and personable, he was cautious not to reveal much about himself. He'd often deflect questions about himself to the other person. He is also very slow to reveal much to himself to friends or even romantic partners. Revealing bits about himself always made him anxious because he was ready for blowback. When is he going to be too much for the other person? Two Face is even more secretive about himself and has a similar idea to Harvey.

P: Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Harvey is often very patient. He had to focus on his goals and all the hurdles that got in his way. However, he's not infallible. Contrary to popular belief, Harvey has just as much anger as Two-Face; it just comes out slightly differently. Two-Face can be patient, but he's known for his hair-trigger temper for a reason.

Q: Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every detail in passing, or do they kind of forget? ) Harvey and Two-Face have a great memory. Part of it was from their law days of remembering all sorts of laws and stipulations as well as complex case files. His job was to be detail-oriented and notice what could be easily missed. That said, it is canon that Harvey sometimes forgot holidays. Two Face is actually quite good with his memory and reading people as well. Both get it from dealing with criminals and remembering grudges or allies.

That said, it can be used for "good" in intrapersonal relationships. They won't forget your birthday or anniversary, your favorite color, or how you got that scar. 

R: Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

It's predictable and maybe a bit lame, but the moment you told them that, you not only accepted them but loved THEM. The two of you had been cuddling on the sofa, sitting quietly, enjoying some movie you were only half paying attention to when you said it sleepily to them. They didn't think they heard you right. Two Face simply figured you meant Harvey only. But then you clarified, and despite the pain it gave him, Harvey and Two-Face smiled genuinely with a tenderness only you could see. Two Face loved watching you tell of the Penguin for insulting him. It was both hilarious and heartwarming ----even if he did have to boost security around you for a while.

With Gilda, It was when she told him to pack a weekend bag and get in the car. He was immediately suspicious but followed her directions only to see that she had rented a cabin for them in the woods, but not far outside of a picturesque town. The two split their time between hiking and fishing (Which they sucked at), having sex, and playing tourist in the town. It meant so much to him that someone A. took control (he loved that about Gilda, and he would love that in any relationship.) B. Cared so much about him that they gave everything up.

S: Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?) Harvey and Two-Face are both very protective, verbally and physically. They know how to fight with their fists and are incredibly gifted with their guns. They're also fearless. Verbally, it's effortless for them to tell someone off or make someone wither under their words.

They will NOT let anything happen to you, or else they'd punish themselves for the rest of their life.  As for him being protected, being loyal is good enough for him. Sticking up for him or supporting him is also huge. Is it obvious? Yes, but it's something he has so little of.

T: Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, and gifts?)

Harvey puts an incredible amount of effort into dates, anniversaries, and gifts. HOWEVER, sometimes he has to make up for dates or anniversaries because of his work. He would never intentionally miss something that important. He's a very thoughtful gift-giver. He doesn't believe in buying people's affection, but he does want to treat them from time to time, so expect nice but thoughtful gifts! He can be a bit of a traditionalist in that he will bring flowers to his partner on date night or just because he can. Two Face remembers dates well, but he is more likely to have the attitude of "Yeah, I got you something. No big deal" in a devil-may-care type of way. 

U: Ugly (What would be a bad habit of theirs?)

Besides his anger boiling up at in opportune moments or lack of sleep, I would say clenching his jaw. It gives him a lot of tension headaches. Two Face also clenches his jaw, but he grinds his teeth a lot too. 

V: Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Harvey knows he's handsome but prefers not to dwell on it. He hates the idea that he's a "pretty boy lawyer." He wants people to focus on him as a lawyer and his accomplishments—not his looks. That said, he is always well put together and has high standards for himself, even as Two-Face. 

W: Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

No. He wouldn't. However, he and Two-Face would convince themselves that they are fine with being alone and that they deserve it. Whether it's Gilda or the reader, Harvey will pine for them, and their partner will always have a place in his heart, even years later.

X: Xtra (A random headcanon for them)

Harvey is a fantastic singer. He could be quite the crooner and sings a lot of songs that are Frank Sinatra and Rat Pack-esque. It's like you stepped into the 50s. He also appreciates a lot of Motown music.

Z: Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

Harvey is an insomniac. It's something he's always struggled with. Part of it is physiology, but part of it was his attempt to avoid nightmares. This carries on after the acid attack. It was something else that gave him and Two-Face night terrors. Plus, he deals with chronic pain as a result of the acid attack, age, stress, and fighting. Additionally, he gets pounding headaches, and his bad eye brings him a lot of pain.