#harvey dent headcanons

[yandere-wishes]

⋆༺ One For The Money, Two For The Show ༻⋆

⋆｡‧˚ʚ Yandere!Harvey Dent x Housewife! Reader ɞ˚‧｡⋆

⋆.𝄞 𝐻𝒶𝓇𝓋𝑒𝓎 𝒷𝓎 𝐻𝑒𝓇'𝓈 & 𝑀𝒾𝓁𝓁𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒟𝑜𝓁𝓁𝒶𝓇 𝑀𝒶𝓃 𝒷𝓎 𝐿𝒶𝓃𝒶 𝒟𝑒𝓁 𝑅𝑒𝓎𝄞˚.⋆

Love does not eliminate flaws it accepts them.

⋆◐⋆ Thinking about Yandere! Harvey Dent who's always been a dreamer. Whose thoughts are always a bit too diluted with fantasies and fiction, with a rêve just out of his reach.

⋆◐⋆ Courtrooms or suburbia. He harbors both between his teeth letting the nectar trickle down his throat, choking on a perfection he knows he'll never be.

⋆◐⋆ Maybe he'd always been a bit too orthodox, a bit too romantic. That's what happens when you're raised on Americanna fairy tales. On folktales of princes riding white fords and finding their princess having Malts at the local soda fountain. That's what happens when you overdose on sitcoms and kitchen commercials. They make you dream of soft hands and even softer lips...

⋆◐⋆ Yandere! Harvey Dent who, even now, even after his disfigurement, after his fall from grace. Still dreams of having a perfect life. A sweet little wife to come home to. Someone to trail kisses over his bullet wounds, to hold both sides of his face. Someone to love like the sun loves the moon, someone who'll love him back.

⋆◐⋆ He watches "I Dream of Jeannie" and "Bewitched" in surfeit, intoxicated by the soft pink and green hues of domestic bliss. Childhood habits die hard but they always resurface screaming. He's sprawled out on the couch as Harv nags him to change to "The Addams Family" or at the very least "The Munsters". But it's the same thing, right? Two sides of the same coin. What Harvey wants Harv wants. This perfect little life, with a perfect little wife.

⋆◐⋆ Morticia, Jeannie, Lily, Samantha. What the hell is the difference? Harv's eyes follow the trajectory of the silver celestial spinning atop their head. Does it even matter what side it lands on if they want the same thing? They're both dreaming of opening a pristine door. Of being greeted by the thick aromas of spice and rice. To hear the melodic click of heels on tiled floors. Maybe they've always been desperate for comfort, chasing a fantasy he can never quite grasp.

⋆◐⋆ Yandere! Harvey Dent whose dreaming of a girl he knows, a pretty little girl from his past. A starry-eyed law student doing her internship at the DA's office. Or maybe a spunky little lady he took on as a henchman, a broken-hearted girl who rains bullets like stars and follows every decree of his coin, like a sacred oath. It doesn't really matter. So long as you're you, his ethereal little princess awaiting your two-faced prince to find you.

⋆◐⋆ In his dreams, you wear heels that chime on the carpeted floor. How he doesn't really know. You hand him a cup of tea when he walks in and a kiss that tastes like honeydew.

⋆◐⋆ Harv agrees, so maybe just maybe that's enough to satisfy the fantasy. To know that, if he's crazy, it's not only his half going insane.

⋆◐⋆ You'd be his perfect bride, and he'd love you with all his tattered heart. Plus he just knows you'd look better in the 1950's Dior dress and channel-cropped cardigan. Harv laughs he's more interested in the heels, designer, long, pointed. Relishing in the thought of their tips digging painfully into the back of his thigh.

⋆◐⋆ 'She'd look better inside the apartment, scurrying to the door when she hears us come in.' Harvey closes his eyes, the thought tastes utterly divine, rattling around his fractured head. Being wanted, being needed. It would feel nothing short of heavenly.

⋆◐⋆ 'You'd like that college boy I know you would, pretty little princess wrapping her frail arms around our neck. Kissing your cheek, my cheek. Our hands trailing up her hips-"

⋆◐⋆ Harvey shakes his head trying to get rid of the fantasy. He can't let such thoughts linger long, or else he'd spill blood just to have you between his arms. Sweet, cute, and frivolous, awaiting him to return to you once more.

⋆◐⋆ Thinking of Yandere! Harvey Dent, whose coin lands on the scared side, but really deep down he knows it never mattered what side was destined to surface. He knew he was always meant to have you.

⋆◐⋆ Yandere! Harvey Dent who corners you when you're out alone one night. Who pushes stars between your lips tasting eden on your tongue, eager to choke on your sweetness. It's a proposal laced with desperation and obsession. A bloody candy gram screaming I love you.

⋆◐⋆ He's too high off of his delusions to notice how you struggle and squirm.

⋆◐⋆ He only fully registers the fear shimmering all so brightly in your big doe eyes, when the tears begin to fall. When he notices how desperately you try to pull your wrist from his grasp. It takes a moment to calm Harv down, to make him understand that you're reaction, while not ideal, is in fact normal.

⋆◐⋆ 'This is fine' he thinks, 'it just takes some getting used to'.

⋆◐⋆ Everything takes getting used to at first. Fingers trailing absentmindedly over the knuckles of his scarred hand.

⋆◐⋆ That night you cried yourself to sleep, as Harvey whispered saccharine little words into your ear. Kissing up and down your neck cooing and cuddling. As he drifted off into blissful sleep right next to your tortured form.

⋆◐⋆ Thinking of what happens when he's had his darling for a while. Does he coax her into the role of his perfect wife? Does she haphazardly stumble into it out of sheer boredom?

⋆◐⋆ Thinking of Yandere! Harvey Dent waking up cold and lonely. Fingers stretching to your side desperate to feel the softness of your flesh. Instead, he's met with the neatly made comforter and the painful absence of you. When he breaths -shakey ragged- there's vanilla under his breath, sugar wafting through the dichromatic apartment. His heart skips a beat, you really are the greatest.

'We should warn her to stay in bed until we wake up!'

'Then who the hell is going to make your breakfast moron? Huh? Didn't think that far ahead did-'

'Oh just shut up it's too early for your yapping.'

⋆◐⋆ "Harvey!" you chirp melodious lithe of your voice ringing ceremoniously to greet him. You're dolled up already in that purple dress he likes with the white heels Harv always picks. You run up to greet him and the click of your heels along his kitchen floor has him seeing stars. You leave lipstick prints on both his cheeks. Run your nails over his bare chest. You're so close, he can feel you're pretty heartbeat through your ribs.

⋆◐⋆ Thinking about making breakfast for Yandere! Harvey. Turning on the TV and talking to him all so sweetly, you've been meaning to try a new cake recipe and you're wondering what flavor he prefers cherry or coconut or both? And there's a new Zorro movie playing in theaters you're wondering if he can take you after work tomorrow? He watches eyes blown wide as you bite down on your hotcake, fork between your plump lips, as you tilt your head. "You don't like it do you," you ask and the brittle nature of your voice has his heart shattering. "I do" he assures, they both do. They're just so surprised you're acting this nice, this loving, this...

⋆◐⋆ Tears prick the corners of your eyes as you look at him. Have you done something wrong? Is he mad at you? "Are you having another dissociation episode?" you're quick to rush to his side. You sit on his lap and run your fingers through his hair. Kissing his soft and scarred lips. Holding his face firmly. "We're fine" Harv assures, voice polluted with trepidation. Unconvinced you break off tiny bits of his hotcake and gently tap the fork on his lip. You feed him so tenderly, basking in the way his pretty eyes never leave your face. As his fingers play with your dress, pinching playfully at your hips.

⋆◐⋆ Thinking about seeing Yandere! Harvey Dent off at the door. He's got a gang to run, a city to protect and destroy all in the same breath. You're sure one day you'll look out the window and see Gotham going up in flames only to be remade under your lover's careful hand. You wish him a good day, moaning softly as he kisses and bites your shoulder. Both hands entwining with your fingers. "Some day I'll take you with me, have you give the orders and watch as everyone jumps to obey."

⋆◐⋆ Thinking about Yandere! Harvey Dent in his office. He runs most of his operations from his two-toned building. He's closer to you this way. Keeping you locked up in the penthouse. Even when he's ordering his thugs around, planning the next heist or crisis or perfect crime he can't get you out of his head. He swears he can still hear the click of your heels from six stories up.

⋆◐⋆ Maybe it's cause he hasn't been happy in far too long, they both haven't. This eccentric euphoria bubbling inside their chest feels too foreign, painful even. Melconay replaced with something so warm and sweet. Something he never thought he would have.

⋆◐⋆ Thinking about surprising Yandere! Harvey Dent with lunch in his office. He's busy interrogating one of Falcone's thugs. Locations or gangwars you don't really care. You wince as Harv fires a bullet at the man's chest. Blood marring the walls and floor, you're careful to stirr clear. When the rage wears off he finally sees you, really sees you. Harvey is shocked and Two-Face is about to start yelling at you for leaving the apartment without permission. But you simply skip over the bloody body and hand him his lunch, kissing tenderly up his neck, pulling his body closer to yours. He's too starstruck to notice the dead man pulling out a gun. Precouopied with running his tongue along your teeth, and molding your bones to his touch. He never notices the dead thing writhing for life, for revenge...Until you've pulled out one of his shooters and shelled the man point blank. Beaming up at him with that eternally cheerful smile. Wrapping your arms around his neck once more, and inching closer to his lips...

⋆◐⋆ Thinking of Yandere! Harvey Dent waking up to the muffled sound of your sobs. And realizing it was all just a dream. You're curled up on the furthest end of the bed trying all so desperately to avoid him. He can faintly make out where you've thrown the new heels and the purple Dior dress he loved so much. Even after all this time you still haven't forgiven him for stealing you away. For locking you up and making you play into his little fantasies. Harvey rolls to his side trying to go back to bed, trying to tune out Harv's violent ramblings, trying to ignore the tear trickling down his cheek.

⋆◐⋆ He's happy, he's happy, he swears he's happy...

🎀: @fancyfeathers @yandere-writer-momo @testification @yuckcuy @realifezompire @devils-blackrose @dollyocaccount @uphighinthe-skies @d3athmaskd1v1n3 @callsigncrash

Thank you guys so much for reader ~💋

[tarrenterror25]

thoughts no one asked for but my mind has no mouth and must scream

Harvey Dent/Two-Face x Soft/Romantic Goth F!Reader

Word Count: 1K

Tags: established relationship, fluff, mention of blood/wounds/injuries Harvey POV

Notes: Song referenced in moodboard is “Love You to Death" by Type O Negative. Just a thing that's been on the brain that I had to get out. Self indulgent.

Thinking about Harvey with a soft goth girlfriend who dresses like she could be scary, but she's actually the most least threatening person he's ever met.

You dress in all black, your boots look like you crush skulls for a living, and you wear spiked accessories like social deterrents, but you're just the sweetest thing he's ever met.

It's laughable to him, how people might perceive you one way when you're nothing like that. It reminds him of himself, or how he used to be, anyways. He's always been a bigger guy and looks pretty imposing, but he was never actually like that...unless driven to be. It's different now though, of course.

Dating you happened naturally as he found himself unable to stay away from you. Both sides of him liked watching the visible signs of you getting butterflies when he would be near you and though he'd never tell you, you gave him butterflies, too. He just couldn't stay away from you and he found himself having a soft spot for you.

You frequent all the oddity shops in Gotham so you've seen all sorts of things. The books you read are...interesting to say the least, he's peeked at a few titles. You're not bothered by the grotesque or the strange.

And you're not bothered by his scars.

He remembers the first time you looked at him, really looked at him. Right into both of his eyes and how you smiled.

Christ, he could never forget that.

His burns never bothered you and both sides of him immediately were attached to you because of this.

The first kiss you two shared made him so nervous. It was one thing to be around him and spend time with him, but physical intimacy scared him nowadays for obvious reasons. He hardly loves himself, so how could you? He was fully prepared for you to just kiss his cheek, maybe make an excuse if he were to make the first move, but you didn't.

You made the first move, cupped his face in your hands and kissed him, not bothering to work around his less than stellar half. Any doubts he may have still had about you, gone.

Your soft and kind demeanor brings out the gentleman side of Harvey and the protective side of Two-Face. Sure, his other half likes to scare you sometimes just for fun, sneaking up on you, stealing soft touches, grabbing you and pulling you to him when you least expect it, but if anyone else bothers you, luck will not be on their side.

He may not be the most gentle person, but with you he likes to try.

Harvey enjoys helping you in/out of your platforms, in/out of your corsets or whatever contraption of a garment you're zipped into, and he even offered to paint your nails for you once. He absolutely adores spoiling you with affection.

Harvey loves that your style is your own, but Harv is totally into it. When he's feeling festive with his split suits, he lets you help design them. Some designs are more fun with spikes and chain adornments and others are a bit more fancy with brocade and such.

Most of your interests he's not super into it, but he respects it. He's protective so you probably won't be able to go anywhere without him if he feels it could be unsafe.

If you want to go out dancing or to some niche concert, he'll tag along, though he'll hang back at a table and keep an eye on your from a distance, make sure no one messes with you. The scene isn't his jam, but seeing you have fun is enough for him.

Some of you provocative clothing is sure to get a reaction out of him, especially the fishnets. That's his weakness.

You always take him as he is so if you're ever nervous about how you look or how you're dressed, he's sure to hype you up as best as he can.

Sometimes he feels grateful for what happened to him, without the accident, he wouldn't have met you. With his new outlook on life, he can understand you better. He's positive that if he remained district attorney, living in the light, that he would have never given you the time of day and even if he did, he wouldn't know how to appreciate you the way he does now.

Your love for darker things helps him love himself, not by much, but enough that with you he isn't always doom and gloom or woe is me.

You being a romantic is not what he expected when he got with a goth gal. You like using the fancy dishes and lighting candles for dinner. You like flowers all over the place though they're usually dark in color. You like to cuddle with him and watch movies, not afraid to make contact with his scarred side.

You like watching a lot of monster movies which made him roll his eyes at first, but he would catch the way your eyes stay glued to the monster be it vampire, a werewolf, or a creature from the black lagoon. The soft dreamy sighs escaping you made him curious.

"You realize that they're the bad guy, right? Literally a monster, not human," he says. "They're just misunderstood," you explain. "And they just want to be loved like everyone else?" "Yeah, buut they mostly resort to extreme measures?" "I think..." she ponders, "it's because they understand what it is to lose something or be lonely. And they found someone who understands them and can see them, even though they aren't human. To be fully seen by somebody, then, and be loved anyhow. Or however that saying goes." She shrugs and pops a few pieces of popcorn into her mouth.

Watching you fawn over the the creatures in those films makes him feel better about himself, makes him feel like less of a monster, like he's still capable of being loved.

[yandere-wishes]

💔❤️‍🩹💔❤️‍🩹💔❤️‍🩹💔 I love this!! It hurts, but I can picture all of these happening. I seriously want to give both of them a hug!!

Babe, please spill any angsty headcanons you have for Jason and Harvey!! I'm especially curious about Harvey's drug use.

Idk why, but I just love seeing my favs go through it💞💖💞💖

Ohhhh, of course, lovie, mwuhaha.

Now, I don't know if you mean Harvey and Jason as separate characters or together as a duo, so I shall do both. I'll put it under the cut since there may be triggering stuff.

Jason - He wants someone to be proud of him. Jason has always been one to strive to do what he thinks is best, and it's not that he expects thanks for it, but after trudging through his own version of Hell and reforming himself into a questionable saviour of Gotham despite everything that has been hammered into him as Robin, he'd just love a proud smile, a nod of acknowledgement. From someone. Anyone. To let him know he's doing something right. To let him know that he at least kept some semblance of the boy he was. - Said it before on the animation post, but, Jason will crawl into dark shadows when he's having a PTSD episode. Bruce always told him the shadows are somewhere that he could recover, that he was safe there. - "He took me away from you. So why couldn't you have done it for me?" - Jason feels like an anachronism whenever he is around the rest of the Batfamily. He's there with them as Red Hood, but they want him to be Robin - his Robin is from a different lifetime, a different era - so his placement feels wrong. He's in none of the recent photos, none of the memories on the walls. He's 'wrong'. - Jason's chest tightens at rising voices. He still looks for the nearest table to hide under sometimes, even if he'd do no such thing anymore. - While he was being tortured by Joker, he called out for his dead mother, not just Batman.

Harvey - Harvey has BDD, which developed in his early 20s. The tabloids who were against his running for DA/Mayor would use the 'Apollo' title to render him to a 'pretty boy lawyer'. It bordered on objectification. The scarring only made things worse. He still runs his hands along his face and tries to see what they saw.

- Because Harvey's DID is not normal, and he and Scarv alt between one another quite quickly sometimes, Harvey is burdened with physical pain the majority of the time. Headaches and jaw tension from the switching, and a dry, sore throat from the voice. He practically eats painkillers, and keeps them absolutely everywhere. - Additionally to that, Harvey may have an addiction problem with them. It hurts to hurt. But it hurts even more to not hurt - it's what he's used to. - "Anytime someone lays a hand on me, a touch of love, a gentle graze, I can feel it: they're trying to rip the Harvey Dent out of me. They're trying to bring a dead man back to life." - In his childhood, even after his father beat him to half-death in a drunken stupor, he'd still try to hug him. - Uhhhh, I don't wanna just come outright and say he hurts himself. He already does that in different ways. But he does it bluntly for a slightly different reason. Like. I feel like I explained it in my fic decently enough:

And that actually breaks us neatly into...

Harvey and Jason - Jason has a hard time time accepting that Harvey isn't going to live forever. He thinks of this in the same way that kids do when they start to realize that their parents won't be with them forever. That void in them starts to form, and they prepare for it to stay empty. - Jason will routinely help out Harvey during depressive episodes by doing menial things that Harvey is too exhausted to do i.e. clearing out the ashtrays when they're full of butts, always keeping a spare pack of ibuprofen on him just in case, hiding drugs etc. (and he's a Drug Lord, so he knows exactly how to do that efficiently). - Harvey wishes Jason would call him 'dad'. Even just once. - Jason wants to do 'normal' things sometimes, rather than the usual crime shtick (their jobs, essentially, which is what their dynamic revolves around). Normal, boring things rather than cigarette breaks, like watching TV together, maybe going to the cinema etc. Harvey would like to have public outings with him too, but refuses. Everyone knows who he is. Jason can sort of get away with appearing normally in public. Harvey can't. And Harvey hates himself for it. - Sometimes Jason will accidentally call Harvey 'Bruce' during PTSD episodes. - Although they very rarely, if ever, hug or come into physical contact with each other, Jason finds the scent of Harvey extremely comforting in those moments they do hug because it's consistent: he always smells like tobacco, bourbon and expensive, heavy aftershave. Think of it as a child finding comfort in holding and taking in every sense of their parent's clothes after they've passed. - That kid is not your son. You're right. He's OUR son. He wants you gone, he sticks around cuz' it's useful. If it makes him happy. - Harvey will joke about killing Jason a second time, and about how fitting it would be to kill him in his second life, but he dreads there ever being a night where an outing may go wrong and he has to be the one to mourn over his second death. - Jason wishes Harvey was happy. - Harvey wishes Jason was happy.

[urdreamydoodles]

Batman Villains x Fem!Reader

You are a criminal hiding under the role of a psychiatrist in Arkham

You introduces yourself as a new psychiatrist at Arkham Asylum, but beneath your professional facade, you're also a criminal with your own agenda. During your sessions with Gotham’s notorious villains, you forms twisted, romantic relationships with them.

Characters: Joker, Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, Bane, Scarecrow, The Riddler, Two-Face & The Penguin

Joker

- You introduced yourself as the new psychiatrist in Arkham, armed with degrees and a mask of professionalism, hiding your true nature beneath the surface. Your sessions with the Joker began with cautious probing, dancing around his mind like any other doctor would. But the moment his cold, dark eyes met yours, you both knew it was a game—one neither of you intended to lose.

- His smile, wide and unhinged, widened further each session as he slowly unraveled your façade. You found yourself intrigued by him in ways you weren’t supposed to be. The chaos he offered was intoxicating, his unpredictable mind a puzzle you craved to solve. And while you knew the risks, you couldn’t help but draw closer to his madness. In your second session, his laughter became personal, no longer mocking Arkham's walls but meant for you.

- Joker had a way of pulling you in, teasing out the criminal lurking beneath your skin. You weren’t just a doctor—you were a kindred spirit, someone who understood his twisted view of the world. He could see it in the glint of your eyes when you spoke to him about Gotham’s hypocrisy, about the system’s flaws. And one day, as you were closing your notebook, his voice cut through the air: "You’re not one of them, doc. You’re like me."

- Your heart raced, but you played it cool, chuckling softly as if you weren’t shaken to the core. From then on, your sessions turned into something more intimate. Conversations turned into whispered secrets, truths about your past crimes, the people you manipulated to rise in the criminal underworld. Joker reveled in it, seeing the darkness he knew you were hiding. He began to speak about you in ways that made your pulse quicken, about how you could rule Gotham together, throw the city into disarray with your combined intellect and chaos.

- The tipping point came when, during a particularly charged session, he reached across the table, his gloved fingers brushing yours. There was a promise in that touch, something raw and dangerous. The lines between doctor and patient blurred completely when he pressed his lips against yours, leaving a smear of red lipstick on your mouth. You didn’t pull away—you couldn’t. Instead, you let him pull you into his world of madness, where logic twisted into a wicked kind of love.

- After that day, it wasn’t just therapy anymore. You became his accomplice, helping him from the inside, pulling strings behind Arkham’s walls. And when he finally escaped, you were right there beside him, both of you laughing at the chaos you would unleash. You weren’t just the Joker’s psychiatrist—you were his queen of madness, his partner in crime, and Gotham was yours to play with.

Harley Quinn

- When you walked into Arkham as the new psychiatrist, you were immediately drawn to her. Harley Quinn, the infamous former doctor turned criminal, sat across from you, her playful smirk never faltering. But you knew better than to take her lightly. Behind her giggles and flirtations was a woman who had once been where you were, a professional undone by obsession. Little did Harley know, you had the same spark of madness within you, hidden under the guise of professionalism.

- Your sessions with Harley were like a dance, a back-and-forth of wit and insight. She would tease you about your job, mock the way you spoke in clinical terms, but you both knew she was testing you. You always answered with a smirk of your own, showing her that you weren’t as buttoned-up as you seemed. You weren’t just here to analyze her—you were here to connect, to peel back the layers of her mind because you saw yourself in her.

- One day, during a session, she leaned in close, her eyes flickering with interest. "You know, doc, you remind me of someone." Her voice was low, almost conspiratorial, and you knew she meant herself. You chuckled, leaning back in your chair. "I’ve heard that before." She narrowed her eyes, suddenly serious. "You ain’t like the others." And she was right. You weren’t.

- You started to let bits of your real self slip through, sharing small pieces of your criminal side with her. You knew she would understand, maybe even admire it. Harley watched you carefully as you spoke about the schemes you had been part of, the power you wielded under the radar. She loved it. And before long, your sessions were less about her and more about the connection between the two of you.

- The day she kissed you was a blur of impulsive passion. After a particularly heated exchange, Harley had grabbed your tie, yanking you toward her, your lips crashing together. There was no hesitation on your part, only a thrilling sense of liberation. You were no longer pretending to be the psychiatrist, and Harley wasn’t just your patient. You were equals, two criminals playing a dangerous game of love and power.

- From that moment on, you were inseparable. You used your position to smuggle things in for her, weapons and plans for her next big heist. Harley, in return, made you feel alive in a way no one else ever could. She saw your darkness and embraced it, encouraging you to step deeper into the life you had been hiding. You became her partner in crime, but unlike the Joker, you weren’t controlling her. You were both free in each other’s chaos, equals in madness.

- The day you helped her escape Arkham was the beginning of something wild. Together, you wreaked havoc on Gotham, her unpredictable energy and your calculated cunning making you an unstoppable duo. You were Harley’s new obsession, but it wasn’t one-sided. She was yours too. You weren’t just another doctor who fell for the wrong patient—you were a criminal mastermind who found the perfect match in Harley Quinn.

Poison Ivy

- You introduced yourself to Arkham as just another psychiatrist, another cog in the system. But from the moment you sat down across from her, the infamous Poison Ivy, you knew you were dealing with someone who could see through your façade. Her green eyes were sharp, watching you with a knowing look as you asked your initial questions. You were careful, though. You knew better than to underestimate a woman like her.

- Each session was a test, a game of wits between the two of you. Ivy wasn’t like the others—you couldn’t simply manipulate her or play into her weaknesses. She was strong, both mentally and physically, her connection to nature giving her a kind of power you admired. And she could sense something off about you, something that didn’t fit with the usual Arkham doctor. You were good at hiding it, but not good enough. "You’re not just a shrink, are you?" she asked one day, a sly smile playing at her lips.

- You leaned back, meeting her gaze evenly. "And you’re not just a criminal." It was an admission, a silent agreement that you were both more than you appeared. Ivy’s curiosity grew from that moment, and so did yours. She wasn’t just another patient to you—she was a woman who had taken control of her life, her body, and the world around her. You respected her, even admired her strength, something you had always craved for yourself.

- Slowly, your conversations turned into something more intimate. You shared pieces of your own life with her, your involvement in the criminal underworld, your ability to manipulate others without them ever realizing it. Ivy listened carefully, her expression neutral, but you could tell she was interested. She liked the idea of someone who wasn’t afraid to challenge the system from the inside, someone who understood the game she was playing.

- One day, she leaned in close, her fingers brushing against your wrist, sending a strange, almost electric pulse through your skin. "You’re beautiful," she whispered, her voice low and sultry. You felt your heart skip a beat, but you didn’t pull away. You were drawn to her, to the danger, to the idea of losing yourself in her world. It wasn’t long before your professional boundaries crumbled, and you found yourself kissing her, tasting the sweet poison of her lips. It was intoxicating, like nothing you’d ever experienced before.

- From that moment on, your relationship was no longer confined to Arkham. You helped her in secret, bringing her the resources she needed, aiding her in her environmental crusades. Ivy saw the criminal in you and nurtured it, just like one of her plants. She didn’t want to control you—she wanted to empower you, and you let her. Together, you became a force to be reckoned with, a dangerous duo that Gotham wouldn’t soon forget. Poison Ivy had claimed you, body and soul, and you loved every minute of it.

Bane

- Your arrival in Arkham as the new psychiatrist was unremarkable to most, but when you were assigned to Bane, things took a darker turn. His reputation was terrifying, the man who broke the Bat, a living embodiment of strength and intelligence. But you weren’t afraid. You were drawn to him, to the power he represented, both physical and mental. You had always craved control, and Bane was the perfect subject—someone you could manipulate, or so you thought.

- Your sessions with Bane began like any other, with you trying to delve into his psyche, trying to understand the mind behind the monster. But he was different from the others. Bane wasn’t just brute strength—he was calculating, strategic, and he quickly saw through your act. He didn’t say it right away, but you could feel his eyes on you, watching, waiting for you to slip up.

- It didn’t take long for him to speak up. "You’re not here to fix me," he said one day, his voice deep and commanding. You froze, knowing you couldn’t hide from him anymore. "No," you admitted, a smirk tugging at your lips. "I’m not." You weren’t just a psychiatrist—you were a criminal, someone who had risen through Gotham’s underworld, and you wanted to understand the man who had brought the city to its knees.

- Bane respected honesty, and from that moment, your dynamic shifted. He didn’t see you as a doctor anymore—he saw you as an equal, someone with the same hunger for power that he had. You were fascinated by his mind, by the way he strategized and planned every move. He was a genius, far beyond what most people gave him credit for, and you couldn’t help but admire him.

- The tension between you grew with each session. Bane was controlled, disciplined, but you could see the way his eyes lingered on you, the way his voice softened when he spoke to you. It was subtle, but it was there. You were drawn to his strength, to the raw power he exuded, and you knew he felt the same. One day, after a particularly intense session, you found yourself standing too close to him, the air thick with unspoken desire. His hand, large and calloused, reached out to gently touch your cheek, his eyes dark with intent.

- "You are more than they realize," he murmured, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. You closed the distance between you, pressing your lips to his in a heated, dangerous kiss. There was no softness in it—only raw passion and the unspoken understanding that you were both forces of nature, bound by a mutual respect and hunger for power.

- From that day on, you were no longer his psychiatrist. You were his partner, his equal in every sense of the word. Bane trusted you in ways he trusted no one else, and you used that trust to help him plot his next move against Gotham. You were the brains behind his brawn, working together to bring the city to its knees once again. You loved him, not just for his strength but for his mind, for the way he saw the world and molded it to his will. Together, you were unstoppable, a force that no one could stand against. And you reveled in the chaos you would unleash.

Scarecrow

- When you first introduced yourself as the new psychiatrist at Arkham, you were already aware of Jonathan Crane's reputation. The master of fear, the Scarecrow, was infamous for his obsession with the mind's darkest corners. But what intrigued you wasn’t just his fixation on fear—it was the brilliance behind it, the cold, calculating intellect that twisted psychology into something deadly. You weren’t there to cure him, though. Beneath your polished exterior, you had your own darkness, your own secrets, and a hunger to learn from someone like him.

- From the first session, there was a tension in the air. Crane wasn’t like the other patients who tried to charm or manipulate you—he studied you, analyzing every word, every gesture. His voice was calm, his demeanor almost detached, but you could see the wheels turning in his mind. He knew you weren’t like the other doctors. "You’re curious," he remarked, his eyes narrowing slightly. "But not about my recovery."

- You smirked, leaning back in your chair. "No, Dr. Crane. I’m curious about your work." That was the moment he saw you for what you were—a kindred spirit, someone who wasn’t afraid of fear but fascinated by it. Your sessions became less about psychology and more about power. Crane saw potential in you, and you in him. You started talking about fear on a deeper level, about how it controlled people, how it could be harnessed and used.

- As the weeks passed, you found yourself drawn to his mind, the way he saw fear not as a weakness but as a tool. You began to share your own experiences, the times you had manipulated fear in others to get what you wanted. Crane listened, his interest piqued, and for the first time, he opened up about his own experiments, the thrill he felt when watching his victims crumble under his toxin’s effects.

- One evening, after a particularly intense session, you found yourselves standing close, too close for a professional boundary. His hand brushed against yours, sending a jolt through you. His eyes, dark and penetrating, locked onto yours. "You don’t fear me, do you?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous. You shook your head, smiling. "I admire you." That was all it took. In an instant, his lips were on yours, the kiss filled with an electric tension that had been building for weeks.

- From that moment on, your relationship was no longer patient and doctor. You became his confidante, his partner in exploring the darkest aspects of the human psyche. He showed you things no one else knew about—his latest fear toxin formulas, his plans for Arkham and Gotham. You helped him, using your position to cover his tracks, to gather resources, and to watch as he slowly gained more control over the asylum.

- But it wasn’t just about fear anymore. It was about power, control, and a twisted form of love that grew between the two of you. Jonathan Crane wasn’t just your patient—he was your equal, your partner in crime, and the two of you reveled in the chaos you could create together. The city would learn to fear you both, and you’d savor every moment of it.

The Riddler

- Arkham had seen many doctors come and go, but when you introduced yourself to Edward Nygma, better known as the Riddler, he immediately knew you were different. You weren’t just another psychiatrist trying to “fix” him. No, there was something in your eyes, something calculating. You enjoyed puzzles, mysteries, and games of wit—just like he did. You weren’t there to cure him. You were there to challenge him.

- Your first session was more of a mental sparring match than a therapy session. Nygma tested you with riddles, trying to throw you off balance, to make you stumble. But you never missed a beat. Every time he threw a challenge your way, you met it with ease, answering his riddles with a smirk. "Impressive," he said, leaning back in his chair. "But you’re hiding something, aren’t you, doctor?"

- You tilted your head, feigning innocence, but you both knew he was right. Edward Nygma thrived on solving puzzles, and you were a puzzle he wanted to crack. But what he didn’t realize was that you were just as much a player in this game as he was. As the sessions progressed, you began to drop hints, letting him see glimpses of the criminal mind beneath your professional exterior. It fascinated him, the idea that you weren’t just there to help, but that you had your own agenda.

- One day, during a particularly charged conversation about Gotham’s elite and their weaknesses, Nygma leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "You’re like me, aren’t you? You see the world for what it is—a game. And we’re the ones smart enough to win." You didn’t deny it. Instead, you smiled, leaning closer. "Maybe I am."

- That was the turning point. From then on, your sessions were no longer about his rehabilitation—they were about planning. You shared your own insights into Gotham’s corruption, its flaws, its riddles. Nygma loved it. You became partners, planning your own schemes from inside Arkham’s walls. You used your position to feed him information, to help him plot his escape and his next big move.

- The chemistry between you grew with every session, the tension crackling between the two of you like static. It all came to a head one night when, after hours of trading riddles and plotting, Edward stood and crossed the room, pulling you close. "I always did enjoy a good mystery," he whispered before his lips met yours in a fierce, possessive kiss.

- After that, you were inseparable. You weren’t just partners in crime—you were lovers, bound by a shared intellect and a thirst for control. Nygma trusted you in a way he trusted no one else, and you used that trust to help him execute his plans, bending Gotham to your will. Together, you were unstoppable, a pair of masterminds who thrived on chaos and complexity. The city was your playground, and every riddle, every challenge, only brought you closer.

Two-Face

- When you walked into the room for your first session with Harvey Dent, you knew you weren’t meeting the famed district attorney Gotham once adored. No, you were staring at a man who had been broken by fate, his face a stark reminder of the chaos that ruled his life now. But you didn’t flinch. You introduced yourself calmly, sitting across from him like you would any other patient, knowing full well you had your own reasons for being here.

- Two-Face sized you up immediately, his scarred eye twitching slightly as he watched your every move. "Why are you here?" he asked, his voice low and suspicious. You smirked, leaning back in your chair. "Maybe I’m just curious about how someone like you thinks," you replied coolly. He chuckled darkly, flipping his coin in the air. "No one’s ever *just curious* about me, doll."

- Your sessions were a constant tug-of-war. Harvey’s dual nature fascinated you—how he constantly struggled between his desire for justice and the dark side that had overtaken him. You, too, had a duality hidden beneath the surface. You played the part of the psychiatrist well, but beneath that, you were a criminal, drawn to chaos just like him. And as much as he tried to intimidate you, you didn’t back down, and he noticed.

- Harvey respected your strength. The more you pushed back, the more interested he became. He saw something in you, something different from the other doctors who had tried to “fix” him. One day, after a particularly heated session, he tossed the coin in the air, catching it in his palm before smirking. "You know, I’ve got a feeling you’re not so innocent yourself." You met his gaze evenly. "What if I’m not?" That was the moment you saw the shift in his eyes—the dual sides of Harvey Dent were no longer fighting each other, they were intrigued by you.

- It wasn’t long before your relationship took a darker, more intimate turn. One night, after hours of discussing Gotham’s corruption and his place in it, Harvey stood from his chair and crossed the room, pulling you close. The kiss was rough, almost desperate, as if he was trying to claim you as his, but you didn’t resist. You wanted it, wanted him. There was something thrilling about the danger, the unpredictability that came with Two-Face.

- From that moment on, you were his partner in more than just therapy. You helped him plan, working from within Arkham’s walls, aiding him in gathering resources for his next move against Gotham. You fed into both sides of him—the one that craved order and the one that loved chaos. Two-Face trusted you in a way he hadn’t trusted anyone since his fall, and together, you were unstoppable. His coin may have decided fate, but you held the real power in your hands, manipulating the outcome to suit your shared goals. You were drawn to the danger, and with Two-Face by your side, you reveled in the chaos.

The Penguin

- As you introduced yourself to Oswald Cobblepot in Arkham, you could feel his eyes assessing you from head to toe. The Penguin was a man who built his empire on manipulation, control, and knowing exactly who to trust—and who to use. But you weren’t just another psychiatrist walking into his cell. You had your own agenda, and the second you sat down, you knew Penguin would be a challenge worth taking on.

- Oswald wasn’t subtle. "So, what’s a pretty thing like you doing in a dump like this?" he sneered, the cane in his hand tapping the ground softly. You smiled, unphased by his attempt to unnerve you. "Just trying to understand what makes you tick, Mr. Cobblepot." He chuckled, clearly amused. "Is that so? Or are you here for something a little more… profitable?" He had you pegged, and you didn’t deny it. Penguin wasn’t someone who responded to weakness. He respected ambition, and you had plenty of it.

- The sessions became a delicate dance. You learned quickly that Penguin wasn’t just a gangster—he was a mastermind, always ten steps ahead of everyone else in the room. He loved the game, the power plays, the manipulation. And you knew how to play the game just as well. Every conversation with him was layered with unspoken meaning, your words carefully chosen to show you weren’t just another Arkham shrink. Oswald began to respect you, intrigued by your sharp mind and your ability to keep up with him.

- It wasn’t long before the lines blurred between professional and personal. Penguin’s calculating gaze would linger on you a little too long, his smirks becoming something more suggestive. "You’ve got a real talent for this," he’d say during one of your sessions, his voice low and dripping with amusement. "Maybe you should be working for me instead of this place." You didn’t disagree. In fact, the idea thrilled you. Gotham’s underworld was where you truly belonged, and Penguin saw it.

- One evening, after a particularly intense conversation about Gotham’s crime families, Oswald stood, walking around his desk with that unmistakable limp. He stood close, closer than ever before, his hand gently brushing your arm. "You and me, we could run this town," he whispered, his eyes dark with ambition and something more. You felt the electricity between you, the pull of power and attraction, and when he leaned in, you didn’t pull away. The kiss was slow, deliberate, and filled with the promise of what could come.

- After that, you were no longer just his psychiatrist. You became his confidante, his right hand, and eventually, his lover. Together, you plotted his rise back to the top, using your position in Arkham to gather information and pull strings. Penguin admired your cunning, your beauty, and your ambition. You weren’t just someone he used—you were someone he trusted, and in his world, that was more valuable than anything.

- You found yourself falling deeper into Gotham’s criminal underworld, by his side. Oswald respected your mind as much as your beauty, and you thrived in the power he gave you. The city became your playground, and together, you schemed to take it all. Penguin may have been a ruthless crime lord, but with you, he was something more—an equal. And together, no one could stand in your way.

[shyjusticewarrior]

Batman love interests and who their fav of Bruce's children is

Selina - Cass

Harvey - Jason

Minhkoa - Damian

Talia - Damian obviously, Jason is 2nd

[zephyr-ro-emenki]

Random Batfam Headcanon's #15:

(continuation of Headcanon #12)

One of Steph's personal favorite posts was a video she posted titled "Ranking my Father(in-law)'s former lovers" and she has an entire Tier maker list created, that doesn't use any real pictures of the Lovers, just out of context photos that only people in the know would know.

Selina's picture is just a random picture of her actual Cats ("She's Chatty, she's able to help me whenever I forget my Keys, She's able to Acquire the best Christmas presents! A Tier.")

Thalia's is a picture of the stereotypical Witches Cauldron filled with a green liquid ("She's Rich, she has an army of Assassins at her beck and call, Dad was apparently Happy when he was with her??? Unfortunately, she's in a very patriarchal dominant home life with her birth family, her father forcibly broke off the relationship, and she STILL hasn't sent me a Birthday Gift!!! C Tier. Buuuutttt she mothered the current Robin, so, for him, I'll bump her up to a B.")

Harvey's picture was just a ¢50 piece she found while walking around that had a lot of grime on one half of the coin ("I'm not fully sure about this one, I never met them when they were sane, but apparently they were really good friends. It's not going so well now, so I'll put it at a C Tier.")

Harley's Photo was literally just a Selfie of Steph with Harley's Jacket draped over her head ("This one is being put into an immediate D Tier, not because they weren't Wholesome (I've heard stories), but Because she is finally happy and in a stable relationship with her own Girlfriend, and honestly me and my own relationship partner view them as Goals for our own relationship. She's also currently his therapist, so D Tier.")

Steph was completely silent as she moved The random Image of a Joker Card to a Tier Below F titled "The most Toxic relationship you will ever see"

The internet exploded when people noticed the 2 images at S Tier, one of them being Wonder Woman's Logo, and the other being Superman's iconic S emblem, but a pair of wedding bands were laid atop the S. ("Look, Princess {referring to the WW Logo} is both his second eldest's favorite person in the world, but she is also the biggest female goal any of us can have. They are adorable, they are funny, this man had to serenade a group of people just so he can save her ass. If that's not love, what is? S Tier. Now, as for the Couple {referring to the Superman Logo}, Dad has somehow been shepherded into an existing relationship, and I think the wife in that relationship just assumed that they also got our dad as a package deal with her own legal husband. Yes, they had THAT bad of a pining for each other. I, sadly, was not around to see the forming of the relationship, but it was reportedly the most awkward 3 years of Coworkers pining after each other anybody has ever seen, and if it wasn't for the Couples Youngest inheriting the "special trait" of the husband of that relationship, we'd be sat here questioning who the father was. It's also, like, the biggest bragging right, so S Tier.")

And then finally there was just a picture of a Bat. ("This man has an almost unhealthy relationship with the Bats in his mancave. He's named all of them. Well, his eldest named all of the original ones, he's just... Continued to name all the new one's that migrate into the cave?? He gets them vaccinated and takes them to the Vet??? B Tier, I'm putting them above Robin's Mom.")

[gothamite-rambler]

Lucid Harvey Dent being fatherly to Jason Todd

Harvey Dent: Hey Red Hood, Batman, white Robin.

Red Robin: Is that what they call me?

Harvey: Well it helps me differentiate you two since I think you're both called Robin.

Red Robin: That... Makes sense and honestly makes me feel a lot better.

Red Hood: Are we talking to Two-Face or lucid Harvey?

Harvey: Lucid Harvey. You're the kid that survived... again it's really good to see you, you look very healthy.

Red Hood (sniffling): I needed that today.

Batman growled with anger, rubbing his forehead frustrated.

Batman: We didn't come here so you can make him cry.

Red Hood: I'm not crying!

Harvey chuckled and takes a sip from his tea cup.

Harvey: What you here for? I can talk for a few hours, I'm getting better at staying in reality.

Red Hood: Oh okay, that's great! Before we start, I wanted to give you this coin.

Red could flipped the coin through the cell bars and Harvey caught it with ease he examined the coin and saw that it was a cute novelty coin he could flip.

Harvey: Aww that's neat. It's marked decision coin and one side says 'hell yeah' and the other one 'fuck no'. Two face will like this. Thanks kid.

Red Hood: I can't do this... I can't do this. He's so fatherly.

Red Hood sniffled and walked off to have a moment alone. Red Robin chuckled when he saw Batman glaring at Harvey, but it was hidden by his mask. He patted him on the shoulder.

Red Robin: Sorrows, prayers.

Batman: Shut up.

pt 1

[bruciemilf]

This is canon to me ✌️😔✌️

[aeturnum-mendacacium]

"NO! PLEASE! ANYONE BUT THE BAT, HIS HIP TO WAIST RATIO IS TOO POWERFULL"

-could be anyone actually

[refloralisation]

broke: two face crimes never go to trial because of the insanity plea

woke: two face crimes never go to trial because: every single trial he will stand up and begin to punch holes in the lawyer's arguments. this would be great if he just restricted himself to the prosecution, but unfortunately for everyone involved, he does not spare the defence either. Chronically unable to stop yapping once they put him on the stand. only three things can happen once harvey is taken to trial: someone blows up the courtroom, mistrial or a hung jury.

[d3athmaskd1v1n3]

Omg another Two-Face enjoyer yessss. Can I get some yandere hcs of him with a reader who dated him before the whole face scaring incident who still somewhat loves him. I’m totally so normal about him and definitely don’t want to smother his face with kisses.

You don't know how happy I am to get another Two-Face ask! The absolute hold this man has on my psyche recently is insane. I am honestly lovesick over them 🖤

I hope you enjoy this one. I was a little stumped on how to go about writing this one, but I tried my best to satisfy you all! (CW: Unhealthy relationships, controlling and possessive behavior, general yandere bullshit.)

Harvey was barely recognizable to you anymore. The polite, righteous man you love is still in there, but it's like he's been warped.

Ever since that fateful day where his face was burned, ever since he began his downward spiral into criminality, he's been a paranoid mess.

He's scared that another one of Gotham's many rogues may try to use you as a way to get to him, either by abducting you and holding you for ransom, or by doing something worse...

So he makes sure you don't leave the house, ordering a few of his men to guard the perimeters to ensure nobody breaks in and to make sure you don't sneak out.

You're not even allowed to answer the door unless it's him!

He constantly checks up on you via the phone, just to make sure you're okay. You'll be sent hundreds of texts a day.

Any complaints you have about these rules are usually met with "if you truly loved me, you'd understand why I have to do this."

As blatantly manipulative as that is, it does shut you up... given his fragile mental state, you don't want to give him any reasons to doubt your love for him.

Sometimes you reminisce about what your relationship was like before this mess. It was perfect... now it's suffocating. But you cannot bear to leave Harvey. Despite all that's happened, you still adore him.

[yandere-wishes]

I'm curious what people's take on a rougher Harvey/two-face would be. The kinda that doesn't mind seeing they're darling a little brusied up if it's coming from him. Maybe Harv gets to play sadist a bit and Harvey can't help but admire how pretty you look with blood dripping from his love bites and those pretty bruises blooming across your gorgeous face and body.

Anyway someone please indulge me!! I need more Harvey Dent asks like a drug!!

[tarrenterror25]

Do you think Harvey and Harv have different approaches to romance?

Absolutely!

For Harvey, he has a more modest and gentlemanly approach to romance. He's definitely old school so he likes to do things like cook with you, dance in the living room with you, go out on cute dates, and cuddle with you.

Harv is a lot more bold and playful. He definitely pinches/smacks your ass when he can. He may not show interest in everything you do, but he likes being near you so he'll suck it up. Harv is not wine and roses, but more like whiskey and pizza.

Harvey is gentle with you, soft touches like brushing your hair behind your ear, hugs, arm around your shoulders and Harv is not so subtle with his hand on your thigh while he drives or when you're sitting next to each other, taking hold of your chin to make you look at him whether gently or firmly, and his arm around your waist.

For date night, Harvey is arranging everything ahead of time whereas Harv is a make it up as he goes.

In the early stages of your relationship, both will be at war with what to do with you, both afraid and overthinking about what you are okay with or what you would like from them. Just be patient with them, they're trying their best 🥺💕

[reginalusus]

IDK. I had to do something with them even if it's just eh.

Yes, I think Jason would take the opportunity to torture Harvey with puns and quips about his duality, hm, yes...

[urdreamydoodles]

Bat-Villains x Reader

They realize they love you after a nightmare about you dying

Characters: Joker, Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, Bane, Scarecrow, Two-Face, The Riddler & The Penguin

The Joker

- The Joker had always laughed at the idea of love. It was messy, inconvenient, and far too human for someone as “elevated” as him. So, when the nightmare came—your lifeless body crumpled beneath the rubble of some grim Gotham alley—it caught him off guard. His cackles turned to hollow echoes as he screamed your name, the vibrant color of his world bleeding into dull gray.

- He jolted awake with a gasp, his face covered in a rare sheen of sweat. His usual smirk was absent as his wild eyes darted around the room, landing on your sleeping form beside him. You were alive, breathing softly, your face peaceful in slumber. The sight of you alive was a jolt to his twisted heart.

- For the first time in a long while, he didn’t laugh. He sat there, his thoughts in chaos, a war between his denial and the crushing realization that he couldn’t imagine a world without you. It scared him more than Batman ever could. He clenched his fists, trying to suppress the emotions bubbling to the surface.

- “This is ridiculous,” he muttered, his voice shaking. But his hand moved on its own, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. You stirred slightly, murmuring something incoherent, and he froze, a flicker of vulnerability flashing in his usually unhinged eyes.

- He stayed awake for hours, staring at you, convincing himself that this was just some fleeting weakness. But the image of your death lingered, gnawing at him, turning his denial into reluctant acceptance. “You’ve done it, haven’t you?” he whispered bitterly. “You’ve made the Clown Prince of Crime care.”

- The next morning, his usual theatrics were toned down. He stayed unusually close to you, his hand lingering on yours longer than normal. You raised an eyebrow at his behavior, and he waved it off with a manic laugh, but deep inside, he knew he’d never let you out of his sight again.

- That night, he held you a little tighter than usual, his arms wrapped around you as if to shield you from the world. “You’re mine,” he whispered into the darkness, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “And no one will take you from me. Not even death.”

Harleen Quinzel aka. Harley Quinn

- Harley’s dreams were usually chaotic, filled with explosions, bright colors, and nonsensical antics. But this one was different. It was dark, quiet, and horrifying. She saw you, broken and bleeding, calling out to her with your last breath. No amount of laughter or jokes could save you.

- She woke with a start, her heart pounding and tears streaming down her cheeks. “Puddin’?!” she gasped instinctively, but then her eyes landed on you. You were there, next to her, your chest rising and falling steadily. Relief washed over her, and she let out a shaky laugh.

- Harley wasn’t one to dwell on emotions—she usually masked them with jokes and a bubbly exterior. But this dream? It shook her to her core. She sat up, her hands trembling as she reached out to touch your face, as if reassuring herself you were real.

- “What’s goin’ on with me?” she whispered to herself. She knew the answer deep down but wasn’t ready to admit it. The thought of losing you had torn her apart in the dream, and the intensity of her feelings scared her.

- For the rest of the night, she stayed awake, her mind racing. She replayed every moment with you, every smile, every laugh, and every time you’d stood by her side. “Guess I’m hooked,” she murmured with a small, bittersweet smile.

- The next day, she was more clingy than usual, following you around and cracking even more jokes than normal. You noticed her odd behavior, but she brushed it off with a wink and a kiss on the cheek. “Just feelin’ extra lovey-dovey today, sugar!”

- That night, as you lay in her arms, she finally whispered the words she’d been too scared to say aloud. “I love ya, ya know? Like… the real kinda love, not the crazy kinda love. Well, maybe a lil’ crazy, but still real.” She kissed your forehead, her heart lighter than it had been in years.

Pamela Isley aka. Poison Ivy

- Pamela’s dreams were rarely nightmares. But this one? It was a haunting vision of you lying lifeless among her beloved plants, your blood staining the green foliage. The image was so vivid, so horrifying, that it shattered her usual composure.

- She woke with a sharp inhale, her breath catching in her throat. Her eyes darted to your side of the bed, relief flooding her as she saw you curled up peacefully. The nightmare lingered, though, its dark tendrils wrapping around her thoughts.

- Ivy wasn’t one to let emotions control her. She prided herself on being logical, detached. But this dream forced her to confront the truth she’d been avoiding. She cared for you—deeply, irrevocably—and the thought of losing you was unbearable.

- She reached out, her fingers lightly tracing the curve of your cheek. Her touch was soft, almost reverent, as if she feared you might disappear if she pressed too hard. “You’ve rooted yourself in my life, haven’t you?” she whispered.

- For hours, she stayed by your side, watching you sleep, her mind racing with plans to ensure your safety. She’d protect you, no matter the cost. “No one will harm you,” she vowed quietly. “Not while I still breathe.”

- The next day, her demeanor was gentler than usual. She handed you a cup of tea, her green eyes soft as they met yours. “Drink this,” she said. “It’ll keep you healthy. And stay close to me today, alright?” Her protective side was in full bloom.

- That night, as you lay in her arms, surrounded by the soft glow of her plants, she finally let herself be vulnerable. “You’re the one thing I can’t afford to lose,” she admitted. “I’ve spent my life fighting for the earth, but you? You’ve become my world.”

Bane

- Bane’s dreams were typically filled with battles and conquests, but this one was different. He saw you, broken and defeated, your life slipping away because he hadn’t been strong enough to protect you. The sight of your lifeless form was a blow worse than any he’d taken in the ring.

- He woke with a start, his chest heaving as if he’d run a marathon. His eyes immediately sought you out, relief washing over him when he saw you safe and sound, curled up beside him. But the dream lingered, the pain and helplessness gnawing at him.

- Bane wasn’t used to feeling weak, but that nightmare had shaken him. He sat up, his massive frame tense as he stared down at you. “You are my strength,” he murmured, the words foreign on his tongue but no less true.

- For hours, he sat there, replaying the nightmare in his mind. He realized then just how much you meant to him, how deeply you’d carved yourself into his life. “I cannot lose you,” he vowed, his voice low and resolute.

- The next morning, his protective instincts were in overdrive. He insisted on accompanying you everywhere, his large hand resting possessively on your shoulder. When you questioned his sudden behavior, he simply replied, “You are important to me. That is reason enough.”

- That night, as you lay in his arms, he finally let his walls down. “I have fought many battles,” he said quietly. “But the thought of losing you? That is a battle I cannot win.” His voice was thick with emotion, his vulnerability laid bare for you to see.

- Bane’s love was fierce and unwavering, and from that moment on, he made it his mission to keep you safe. “You are my heart,” he admitted softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “And I will protect you with every ounce of strength I possess.”

Jonathan Crane aka. Scarecrow

- Jonathan’s dreams were often macabre reflections of his own fears twisted into nightmarish landscapes. But this time, it wasn’t about him. The nightmare was about you—your lifeless body crumpled in a dark alley, surrounded by shadows, your voice calling his name in desperation before falling silent forever.

- He woke abruptly, his breath shallow and ragged, the echo of your scream still ringing in his ears. For a moment, he sat frozen, his hands trembling slightly. Then his eyes darted to the bed, where you lay peacefully, your chest rising and falling in soft rhythm.

- Jonathan wasn’t one to embrace vulnerability, yet this dream left him shaken. He stared at you, his mind racing with an uncomfortable realization: he cared for you far more than he’d ever allowed himself to admit. Losing you, even in a nightmare, felt like losing a part of himself.

- He leaned closer, his hand hovering over your cheek but not quite touching, as if afraid to disturb the calm you radiated. “You’re more dangerous than fear itself,” he murmured quietly, his voice tinged with a rare warmth. “Because you’ve made me weak.”

- The following day, Jonathan was quieter than usual, his sharp words softened when directed at you. He lingered in your presence, finding excuses to stay close, though he masked his concern with his usual intellectual aloofness.

- That night, as you stirred beside him, Jonathan finally let his guard down. “You don’t realize it, do you?” he whispered, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “You’ve made me care… and that terrifies me.” His fingers brushed against yours, a silent vow to keep you safe.

- From that moment on, he became even more meticulous in his plans, ensuring no one could ever harm you. Jonathan Crane, the master of fear, had found something he feared more than anything: a world without you in it.

Harvey Dent aka. Two-Face

- Harvey’s nightmares were like a coin flip—sometimes they reflected his inner turmoil, other times they felt like cruel twists of fate. This time, it was the latter. He saw you, the one person who made him feel whole, bleeding out in his arms as he screamed for help that never came.

- He jolted awake, his hands clutching the sheets tightly as he gasped for air. His scarred side twitched involuntarily, but his eyes sought you immediately. Relief washed over him as he saw you sleeping soundly beside him, completely unaware of his inner torment.

- Harvey sat up, running a hand down his face. The nightmare had been too vivid, too real. He couldn’t shake the image of your lifeless body, the way your eyes had stared at him, full of trust even as the light faded from them.

- “You’re my anchor,” he whispered, his dual voice cracking slightly. “You make me believe there’s still something good in me.” The thought of losing you wasn’t just painful; it felt like losing the last shred of humanity he had left.

- The next day, Harvey was unusually protective, his coin flipping idly between his fingers as he shadowed your every move. When you teased him about being overly cautious, he brushed it off with a half-smile. “Can’t be too careful,” he muttered, though his eyes betrayed his deeper worry.

- That night, as you curled up beside him, Harvey wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. “You’re the one thing in my life that doesn’t need a coin flip,” he admitted softly. “I’ll protect you, no matter what.”

- From then on, his duality softened slightly when it came to you. Both sides of Harvey Dent—man and monster—agreed on one thing: you were worth everything. And he wouldn’t let anyone take you from him.

Edward Nygma aka. The Riddler

- Edward’s nightmares weren’t random; they were puzzles of his subconscious, riddled with hidden meanings and twisted scenarios. But this time, the riddle was cruelly simple: you were dead, taken from him in a moment of chaos he couldn’t control or predict. The answer to the nightmare was devastatingly clear—he couldn’t solve it.

- He woke in a cold sweat, his mind racing as if trying to piece together clues to prove the dream wasn’t real. When his eyes landed on you, still peacefully asleep beside him, he let out a shaky breath, relief flooding his system.

- For once, Edward was at a loss for words. The nightmare had shaken him in a way few things could. He prided himself on his intellect, his ability to plan for every contingency, yet the thought of losing you felt like an unsolvable equation.

- “You’ve become my greatest mystery,” he murmured, brushing a hand through his hair as he watched you sleep. “How did you manage to make me feel this way?” His voice was tinged with frustration, but beneath it was an undeniable warmth.

- The next day, Edward was more attentive than usual, his riddles and taunts aimed at others rather than you. He stuck close, his sharp eyes scanning for any potential threat, though he masked his concern behind his usual arrogance.

- That night, as you curled up against him, Edward allowed himself a moment of vulnerability. “You’re the only thing in my life that doesn’t need a riddle to explain,” he admitted softly, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin. “And I’ll make sure no one ever takes you from me.”

- From that point on, Edward’s plans always included you at the center, his mind working tirelessly to ensure your safety. For a man obsessed with answers, you had become the only certainty in his life.

Oswald Cobblepot aka. The Penguin

- Oswald’s nightmares were usually filled with power struggles and betrayal, but this one was personal. He saw you, his constant companion and solace, gunned down in a rival’s crossfire. The sight of your blood pooling beneath you was enough to send a chill through even his cold heart.

- He woke with a start, his usual composure shattered as he sat up, his breath heavy. His sharp eyes immediately sought you out, relief flooding him as he saw you beside him, alive and unharmed. But the nightmare had left its mark.

- Oswald prided himself on his control, yet the dream had revealed a vulnerability he couldn’t ignore. He sat in silence, his mind replaying the nightmare over and over, each iteration driving home just how much you meant to him.

- “You’re more valuable than all the riches in Gotham,” he muttered, his voice low and gruff. He reached out, his gloved hand brushing against yours, the gesture unusually tender for a man like him.

- The following day, Oswald’s protective instincts were in overdrive. He doubled your security, barking orders at his henchmen to ensure your safety. When you questioned his sudden behavior, he simply replied, “You’re too important to risk.”

- That night, as you rested your head on his shoulder, Oswald finally let his walls down. “You’ve done the impossible,” he admitted quietly. “You’ve made the Penguin care about something other than power. And I won’t let anyone take that away from me.”

- From then on, his love for you was evident in every action. For a man who thrived in Gotham’s cold, dark underworld, you were his one source of light—and he’d do whatever it took to keep you safe.

[mogamuncher]

Brucie is a menace to society: The Thesis

Urrgh the brainworms got to me again, so we're talking about some funky Brucie Wayne headcanons:

• There's a difference between Brucie Wayne interacting with the general public and random rich folks that he isn't too close with vs Brucie Wayne interacting with business partners, friend, or people Brucie is generally a bit more trusting towards

• To the general public and the more distant rich folks? Brucie is a himbo dork, a hot playboy manwhore who donates to charity all the time, a little dumb, a heart of gold, definitely seen as way too naive. Brucie is just a well-intentioned goofball who is very good looking, he's clumsy and kinda adorable, people just generally like him because of his Vibes™. Also just very good with kids, though his habit of adoption is brought up a lot in jokes

• But with long time business partners, friends and people he'd be closer to? Brucie is 100% a smug bitch, absolutely insufferable. He's like, still seem as mostly stupid and vapid, still a manwhore, but as they get to know Brucie more others definitely start to catch on whenever he's just fucking with people. Brucie can no longer get away with pretending like he's naive anymore, because these specific people have 100% caught him saying certain things solely because he thought it would be just so fucking funny

• Because of this, Brucie tends to be more playful with this select group of people, being less of an adorable himbo and more like a loud snarky friend, he's absolutely hilarious if you're actually in on the joke, has an awful habit of teasing others as well

• If you're particularly grouchy or insufferable then Brucie will dedicate the rest of his day to bother you in particular. He can and will just make up any excuse to have a meeting, or to tour at someone else's office, or anything and other to simply be able to annoy bitter people from a close range

• His biggest victims: Oliver Queen, Lex Luthor and Harvey Dent. These three will never know peace, the moment they got close enough to get to the more snarky side of Brucie it was game over. It was really common to see Bruce waltz through parties acting like his normal himbo self, only to do an immediate shift in attitude once he spotted one of them, the press usually found it hilarious

• Lex is the one that suffers under this the most since he's the bitchiest man alive, so Brucie is basically in speed dial to annoy this man 24/7, he's an actual menace about Lex to the point where he will make the trip to metropolis solely to piss Lex off on a completely random Wednesday. They're both the pettiest people to ever exist so the annoyance is actually kinda mutual, but Brucie often wins out since his reactions aren't really fully genuine (on account of being, well, Brucie), something that Lex is endlessly bitter on. To this day no one can tell if they're genuinely actually friends, or if they just hate each other

• Oliver does not get hit by the full brunt of the Brucie Wayne Effect™ as Lex does, but they both still snark at each other all the time, to the point that having a conversation with the two of them present becomes a comedy routine really fast. The accounts of the poor poor survivors that have ever third wheeled their conversations say that it was vaguely reminiscent of being the ball in a game of verbal tennis, as was read in a particularly descriptive article released by several bitter interviewers

• Now, of course Harvey is actually aware that Brucie isn't really fully real, like, he knows that it's mainly a persona, he's actually had full conversations and memories with Bruce instead of Brucie. Still though, Brucie and Harvey are like a menace duo, being targeted by both of them is a sentence to being messed with or manipulated, it's actually really impressive what they can get done together. Of course, they both use their methods for good, and to annoy people that are assholes while still somehow being polite, so it's more funny than anything, really

• Brucie is also just generally more mellow around Harvey, being less snarky and sometimes even quiet, staying in a sweet spot between Bruce and Brucie. Seeing Smug Bitch™ Brucie Wayne chill out a little whenever Harvey was around is a bit surreal to everyone else though, Lex and Oliver will forever complain about it

• Once Harvey became Two Face, Lex and Oliver both actually had some tact (yes, I know right) and gave Brucie some space to deal with it. A week later after the incident Brucie visited both of them with a big confident smile, beer and an invite to a party with only the family friends

• Not much changed after that, Lex is still insufferable, Oliver is still playing along with Brucie's bullshit to some extent, and Brucie is still a menace to society disguised as a harmless himbo playboy. Though sometimes the clear absence of Harvey is felt, especially whenever those quieter and softer moments of Brucie mellowing out simply cease to exist entirely