#joker x harley x reader
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
strawberrybyers · 11 months ago
Text
being a slut and mentally ill means i’d do really well as a patient in arkham asylum
3K notes · View notes
acid-ixx · 5 months ago
Text
"hostage situation"
series masterlist
Tumblr media
nightwing, to his siblings: okay, so we have to be real careful because the joker and harley quinn are holding our baby sibling hostage and we can't put them in anymore danger.
nightwing, looks at red robin: i'm sure they have some traps laid around the lair so you'll be disarming it.
red robin, nods:
robin: then me and todd will be handling any spare targets, no?
nightwing: of course. cass, steph and duke will be guarding the entrance. babs?
oracle, speaking in the intercoms: this is the closest point of entry where (name) is being kept hostage.
red robin: security cams suggest there's more than just harley and the joker in the lair. a bunch of their goons are heavily guarding both the entrance and the exit. we should thread carefully.
oracle: there's no camera's where (name) is exactly at, but there's a specific room where it's shown that the two are often visiting.
batman, who had been lurking behind them: this is a priority mission. we can't afford to make mistakes.
robin, eyebrows raised: though, is it necessary to bring the entire family? me and my father could handle this entirely by ourselves.
jason, sighs: don't pretend like you weren't the first to suggest the entire justice league to come searching for them, kid.
batman: enough arguing, (name) needs all the support they could get after this. so on my count, we are to bust open the door.
dick: alright, everybody, prepare.
Tumblr media
*meanwhile, inside the lair, in a makeshift "house"*
(name), sitting on a comfy chair whilst holding a cup of hot chocolate and a book in the other, sneezes: oh— did anyone mention my name?
harley quinn, already on her way to wipe their nose: oh my baby! is our baby sick?!
(name): no, i just suddenly sneezed?
the joker, in another room: i spy with my little eye, a child way past their bedtime~ c'mon babyboo, let's get you to bed!
(name): awe, but it's like, 10pm. i wanna read some more.
harley, about to pick (name) up: then let momma read the book for you in bed, cutesy pie—
*the door to the kitchen slams open*
dick, with his escrima sticks on-hand: surrender (name) to us now or—!
dick, absolutely befuddled: wait, what?!
damian, with bruce in tow: what's the hold up, nightwing?!
damian, about to jump right in front of dick before he was stopped by bruce's hand on his shoulder: what is... this?
bruce: ... explain the meaning of this, harley.
harley, holds (name) closer to her chest as she's equally confused: what do ya mean, bats? ain't it obvious i'm taking care of my child?
(name): uhm...
damian, visibly offended: what do you mean, your child? (name) over there is ours.
the joker, walks over to the room in a hurry: what's with all the commotion over here?! (name) is supposed to be in bed, harle— batman?!
bruce, with squinted eyes: don't act stupid, what is this all about?
nightwing, surveying the room: wait, why is (name) in pajamas?
(name), trying their best to shrug in harley's tight hug: i'm... supposed to go to bed...?
the joker, about to walk over to (name) before he's stopped by a batarang almost hitting the side of his head: hey! what's that for? i'm clearly not trying to attack my own child!
bruce: (name) is my child, not yours.
the joker, glaring at batman: well, it's not my fault they choose me over you!
(name) wayne, interrupting the two: uhm... i did technically disown myself from the family so—
damian: disown yourself?
(name): i have every reason to—
dick: look, baby bird, you don't know what's right for you, these guys are dangerous—
(name): i literally got nearly killed by some nobody criminals if not for harley saving me but okay, nightwing.
bruce, whose attention is now on (name): you almost got what now?
(name), rolling their eyes: i almost died, batman. now if you excuse me, i think i deserve a good night sleep tonight.
(name), looks at harley who still hasn't released them from the protective hug: can we?
harley quinn, facepalming in her mind as she stares back at (name): oh, i should've bought you to pam and selina instead.
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
marcyvamp1re-blog · 1 month ago
Text
The Wildcard!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairings ⸺ Mother! Harley Quinn x Child! Reader.
(PLATONIC FIC)
¿Request? Yes!
This is a Headcanon!
sinopsis ⸺ Being a kid raised under the Joker’s wing isn’t exactly what anyone imagines when they talk about a "good childhood." I mean, it’s not like you’re gonna get bedtime stories when your father figure is a psychopathic clown, right? Although, now that I think about it, he probably did tell you stories before bed—just that his versions ended with explosions and maniacal laughter instead of happy endings. You never really know with him.
But, hey! There was always mom Harley. And while she wasn’t exactly the classic model of a devoted mother, Harley definitely had her moments. Those times when she’d look at you with those big, wide eyes and promise she’d protect you from everything, even from herself. And that says a lot, considering that sometimes even she didn’t know who she needed to protect herself from.
warnings ⸺ Fluff and Angst, Platonic Cuddling, ¿OOC Harley? Idk, Disturbing Content, Street Fights, Violence, Blood, Trauma, Phobias.
Guide! Pt.2
A/N ── Yes, damn it, yes! My first request! Thank you so much, really, thank you! No need to clap, I’ll get all blushy uwu. I put all my love and care into this. Hope you enjoy it to the fullest!
Tumblr media
In reality, you were not her biological child. She knew that very well, and moreover, she knew that Mr. J would never want a child with her. In fact, it had never been part of the plan. "Kids are a hassle" the Joker would say, with that shrill laugh that coursed through his body like an electric shock. And Harley, well, she didn't exactly want a baby either. Until she found you.
Harley found you among the rubble, covered in blood, although it wasn't yours (at least that's what she hoped). You couldn't have been more than five months old, and there was no trace of your mother. At that moment, her intentions weren't exactly maternal, but what could you expect from a criminal at 2 AM? However, something in your little eyes disarmed her. You were small, defenseless, and upon seeing you… well, she simply couldn't resist.
Thus began your life with Harley Quinn. It wasn't the most typical childhood, that's for sure. Mr. J saw it as just one of his whims, and as long as you didn't cry and stayed out of his business, you were welcome. According to him, it was easier to raise a little clown from childhood.
To begin with, your toys were not exactly "age-appropriate." Mr. J had a fixation with explosives, so more than once you found yourself playing with what you hoped was an innocent candy box, only for Harley to shout from across the room: "Honey, no! That's not a toy, it's dynamite! Give me that!"
Ah, motherhood. A tough job, yes, but also something Harley never thought would come to her in such an… unexpected way. In her former life, when she was still Dr. Quinzel, she envisioned a normal existence, perhaps with a good job that would provide stability. But well, one thing led to another, and there she was, raising a baby who wasn't biologically hers, but whom life —and Gotham— had placed in her arms. And although her life with the Joker was total chaos, she always made sure of one thing: that you were safe.
In her twisted way of seeing the world, Harley protected you even from him, from Mr. J himself. She knew how unpredictable the Joker could be, so she did everything possible to make sure you were never in the same room for too long. And even though it sometimes seemed like the Joker didn't even notice your existence, Harley made sure to keep that distance. "I want you to be different" she would tell you while fixing your hair with a smile, "I don't want you to end up fistfighting with Batman like mommy."
Harley loved playing with you, especially at being doctors. There was something almost nostalgic for her in that, as if every time she saw you healing your dolls, a small part of the old Dr. Quinzel awakened within her. She loved seeing you with your toy stethoscope, focused as if you were in the middle of a serious operation.
"Mom! Miss JeanieBeanie had a broken heart, and I healed her with words! Just like you told me." Harley smiled, that big, bright smile that only she could make, and although she always tried to maintain the toughness of her persona, she couldn't help but let a tear escape. "Ah, sweetie, you're a genius."
And then, of course, there was the topic of school. You couldn't attend school known as the Joker's kid, that was for sure. So with a little colorful dye, a lot of makeup in the morning, and some nice clothes, Harley would take you to school incognito, as if you were a completely normal child. At least, she tried to make you seem that way. The first days were a disaster, though.
It wasn't that Harley didn't trust the school's safety, but, of course, being the Joker's Queen left her paranoid. So there she was, lurking around the windows of your classes, hiding behind bushes, trying to ensure that no madman would come in with a Kalashnikov to disrupt your school life. Sure, she was kicked out most of the time, but she always returned. Harley always returned.
Sometimes, when she couldn't see you during recess, she'd send you hidden messages in your lunchbox, with little doodles and silly jokes that made you laugh out loud. She worried a lot about you not making friends. "Remember, sweetie, if any kid bothers you, just smile like me and show them who's boss. But don't hit them, okay? Save that for later."
When the Joker finally broke up with her, it was a disaster, like a train derailing in slow motion. But just like with everything else, Harley made sure that the blow didn't fall on you. She never let Mr. J's chaos reach you because you were her priority, her sweetie. So, holding her hand, you left with her without looking back, with her suitcase in one hand and a bat in the other.
Since then, life became a bit more complicated, but also freer. Harley and you had to make do by stealing to survive, moving from place to place until ending up in a small apartment in Gotham's Chinatown. It wasn't the best area, but hey, it had charm. There, the nights were long, the walls thin, and the sounds of street fights mixed with your laughter while you tried to do homework and Harley gave you "life advice" that included how to escape from the police in style.
"Do you know what's faster than a bullet?" she'd say while looking at your face painted in bright colors before running off with a stolen shopping cart. "You, with the right attitude!"
Harley let herself go with alcohol during some tough times, but she always kept you away from that dark side. Sure, she bought a hyena and named it Bruce, which was simply hilarious. Bruce, like that perfect man on the magazine covers that you both secretly adored. "Bruce, come here, let's go for a walk!" you'd hear her shout down the street, and the neighbors wouldn't even blink. It was Gotham, after all.
By then, you were almost done with school. Amid the chaos of your life, you made a friend... Damian something (Wayan or something like that, you were bad with names). He wasn't the friendliest person in the world; in fact, "brat" would be a kind description, but for some reason, he intrigued you. "Mom says that if a boy or girl seems cute to you, you should go for it!" you told him once, repeating Harley's wise advice. Of course, Damian just looked at you like you were the weirdest thing he'd ever seen (and mind you, he had seen weird things; he's 'friends' with the nerd Jon). And although he maintained his air of arrogance, you found him adorable in a way that even he didn't understand.
Some nights, Harley and you would just lie on the rooftop of some building, looking at the lights of Gotham. With bags of marshmallows stolen from a grocery store, you'd roast them with a lighter while she told you stories. But not normal stories, rather ones involving car chases and explosions. No princesses and castles, more like villains and spectacular escapes. Sometimes, Selina Kyle would join in. "It's easier than you think" she'd say, winking at you while showing you how to sneak into a museum without setting off the alarms. It was never a typical childhood, but it sure was entertaining.
When Harley joined (temporarily) the Birds of Prey, things started to improve a little. You had more people around you, like a dysfunctional family you didn't know you needed. The girls tried to be a good influence, although with Harley, that was always relative. But at least there were fewer explosions and more quiet nights; just that "quiet" in Harley's terms meant motorcycle races, sporadic thefts, and bar fights. Pure fun!
And occasionally, Ivy, her "friend," would come to visit them. You thought she was amazing, so elegant, so calm... You knew there was something more there. "Kiss already!" you shouted at them once, laughing, watching how Harley blushed slightly while Ivy rolled her eyes with a smile.
But despite everything, Harley never stopped being an incredible mom, in her own way. On the toughest nights, when you'd curl up in her lap after a long day, she'd stroke your hair and whisper, "You know, sweetie, I never thought I'd be a mom, but you're the best thing that ever happened to me." And although it wasn't a typical motherhood, there was something comforting in knowing that amidst all that chaos, you could always count on her.
So, amid thefts, stolen marshmallows, and moments filled with love, Harley gave you a childhood that wasn’t normal, but was filled with adventures, laughter, and unconditional love. And what more could you ask for when you have Harley Quinn as your mom?
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
A/N ─── My first request uwu~ I’m so excited! I really hope I did it well, and that you all like this little headcanon. I put all my love into it, so if you have more ideas or want to request something, don’t hesitate! I’m here for whatever you need.
Take a bath!
619 notes · View notes
urdreamydoodles · 1 month ago
Text
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.
239 notes · View notes
dogbites-puppylove · 7 months ago
Text
Apple seed cyanide
TW: description of yandere mentalities and actions (obsession, possessive tendencies, stalking, etc)
Tags: Yandere! Joker x reader, Yandere! Harley x reader (platonic)
Tumblr media
If you want the honest to god truth, Harley knew that the Joker was spewing saccharine filth from the start when he reached out with promises of a sweet little life, one with a darling family of their own. She knew because, after years of watching him pant after the trials of Batman, she saw he had no room other than his obsession left in his heart. But like a moth to firelight, she flutters dutifully back into his arms attracted by promises already broken
Imagine her surprise when shes greeted at the door with a bright smile, almost sane enough to trick her. He ushers her in with a sweet note in the air and a “surprise waiting for her” in the living room. Bound and gagged a couple is crying out on the floor, shaking their hands in a pathetic plea, and attempting to crawl away, and usually, Harley would be all for making a joke or two, but instead, all she can see is you. Your little presence floods all of her senses, sitting perfectly pacified on the floor. Behind her, she's aware of her partner's sick laughter, but she can't shake off the trance she's in.
You couldn't be older than 3, still without proper motor skills and a morbid curiosity stopping any critical preservation instincts that might have had you crying. This becomes more evident when instead of screaming, you giggle as the clown prince of crime crouches down to haul you up into an embrace, even bouncing you up into the air a few times to pry out more laughter. She can barely hear the shrieks of your old parents as the Joker finally deposits you safely into her arms, and as she cradles you close to her chest that aches for you. It's a physical hurt that almost overwhelmed her, the need to crawl inside you and live there, or for you to do the same, and it is in a stranger's house that Harley falls in love again.
“Sweet as honey ain't they?” the Joker coos and cackles at you, waggling a few fingers in front of your face, grinning even wider as you grab at them. “Full of curiosity that one is, a real riot!” but Harley can barely hear him much less acknowledge him past the roaring of blood in her ears. Her heart beating out of her chest she thinks it might just spill open to accommodate the organ trying to crawl closer to her darling. For the second and last time in her life, Harley is chained and leashed to another's will, a fate of coming to their beck and call, your will, her darling wrapped perfectly in her arms.
To the Joker's credit he does love you, or as close to love as he can get. He hushes your cries, indulges you in sweets behind Harley's back, and she's even caught him humming silly little tunes as he dances with you wrapped up in his arms. You bring clarity to him, a surety in his life that he doesn't feel unless pulling Bats along in another joke. You were going to be his perfect legacy, proof that he cannot truly die, you're a part of him in this way. Of course, you’d need a quick little dip into a vat of toxins to truly make a perfect legacy but you needn’t worry, he still loves you. You just need a little preparation first.
Every week he takes you on little daddy-darling outings, he tells Harley your going around to sightsee, and he lets you play a lot of fun games until the sun sets. And he's truthful because his warehouses are far and in between, and every mutilation he leads you so lovingly through is a fun little joke. His little comedian, hell coo as he leads your hand tightly clasping a knife against the throat of one of his own boys who had tried to run. Isn't this fun sweetheart?
He underestimates, however, just how devoted Harley is because while she was fully delusional when they had first gotten into a relationship Harley cannot spare you as collateral damage to her own fantasies. She is painfully grounded as she takes in everything about you 24/7, your expressions, words, actions anything she can she takes to covet away in her mind forever. As much as she is a monster she is your mother and she loves you, you are anything she's ever had and everything she'll ever have. He doesn't realize that she obsessively checks over you, even spotting the smallest flecks of blood, how when she kisses you goodnight she can see the thin sheen of apathy take hold of your gaze.
The final straw comes in the form of a huge argument, she comes home early from work eager to see her little baby, when she finds the Joker cooing into your ear, goading you into doing your best as your hands wrap around a familiar gun. Like the devil on her shoulder, she can't even scream as you pull the trigger, eyes momentarily twitching but no other expression as your former parent's brains paint the windows. And she realizes as you turn around to smile at her sweetly with blood on your teeth and tears that seem so foreign streaming down your face that you need to leave, she has to get you away.
That night she takes you, just 9 years old, and runs. She has no real destination, just a desperate notion to get away, to save you from all that she knows the joker is trying to make you. She can't, she can't let you go through what she knows will force you into the type of person you never wanted to become. Because she can see herself in the mirror and can mourn normal happiness and stability, and she has watched the joker bleed himself dry until he has nothing to himself but an old laugh track repeating over and over again. It's a life of agony and you don't deserve that, not you, never you.
Of course, her body ends up leading her to Ivy’s place, and the woman can only stare in shock as her best friend who had gone radio silent all those years back collapses at her door holding a kid so close she might be trying to meld into one. “Please, please not my baby” Harley begs and any anger that Ivy could have had melts.
For a while it's paradise, the Gotham sirens all corralling once again in their glory, and with their very own new member, you. Selina takes to you quickly, cooing about how her kitten is just the most clever thing in the world as you quickly work through her little trips. (Privately she will worry to Harley about the lack of awareness you have for your own health, the way your eyes glaze over when a plan takes place, and the brutality you exhibit.) Ivy also takes to you quickly, teasing you with little nicknames (how can you be a sapling when you're a human?) and she teaches you how to nurture, how to care for plants and love them as they deserve. (And she will confide to Harley how you seem to take to poisons particularly well, how you are able to craft things more disastrous than she can dream, how your curiosity always leans to the morbid.)
Harley herself takes great energy and care into trying to undo what the Joker has done, it's laughable how Gotham's greatest villains all sit in a circle every week and preach about morals and empathy. But to their credit, it works, and though you may not be able to feel the full existence of motion, though you can't seem to feel it as deeply as others your heart still throbs with what must make you human. You learn consequences and cling with desperation to these little lessons that prove you aren't your mentor. (not father, not anymore)
And yet Harley can still see how your apathy takes hold in the face of curiosity, how you prefer crowbars over teddy bears, and how despite your hardest efforts empathy is always a little too easy to push away in favor of hard-earned apathy. (and she knows, she knows that as long as that bastard is still out there doggedly searching the ground for you, you won't ever truly be safe) so she makes a deal.
The phone rings and Bruce can only raise an eyebrow at the untitled phone number, he doesn't make a habit of giving out his number so uselessly so after the third ring he picks up.
“Hello? This is Bruce Way-”
“Hey Bats.” Alarm shoots through the roof at a voice he hasn't heard in years, and yet still so closely relates to his arch-nemesis.
“Harley? How did you get this-”
“Listen, listen I know it's gonna sound real bad but I- I need you to hear me out. A favor, I need a favor. I'll go back to Arkham, stay there for the rest of my days but, I” she breathes and it's far too shaky for the woman he knows her to be. “My baby” she sobs “You gotta keep my baby safe, he's out there Bats and he won't leave em alone as long as their alive.”
Through his confusion, Bruce manages to calm her down, and wrangles a short story out of her, how she and Joker had played family until she couldn't bear to see you break anymore and how she knew that she alone couldn't keep her darling safe. And maybe it's the boy staring at the corpse of his family in Crime Alley that speaks instead of himself but he finds himself reaching out to help. (he can't let another family split, not when he can help it). As long as Harley doesn't kill, no more lethal tactics, and as long as she reports everything she knows about joker, and works with him against him, she can stay outside of Arkham walls. And as for you?
Your tenth birthday hits and Bruce Wayne steps into your living room with a strangely calculating gaze and a warm smile.
“You must be Y/N? Ah, nice to meet you officially, my name is Bruce Wayne, and ill be your foster family.”
Tumblr media
Author's Note: Another reupload. ALSO! I HAVE GOTTEN THE ANON ASKS!! I AM JUST A SLOW WRITER I’LL GET TO EM I PROMISE!!
689 notes · View notes
batmans-archnemesis · 3 months ago
Text
healing is realizing lego batman was the best version after all.
279 notes · View notes
superyum · 7 months ago
Text
It drives me insane that I can’t find a twerking scenario for dc characters yet. Like I wanna know Dick’s or Bruce reaction to reader shaking some ass in a club on a Tuesday night to release stress. Clark Kent getting a lappy for the first time, is he foaming at the mouth or WHAT? What about a girl days in with Harley and it turns into a twerk off?? Give me some fucking “baby grind on me~” content pleassse. I already know marvel does, very few, but it’s a hell lot more than dc.
294 notes · View notes
x-gabrielle-x · 3 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Withered Cards | I
Pairings: Jason Todd x Reader.
Warnings: Blood, gore, violence, murder, swearing, major and minor injuries, death.
Summary: Despite the many problems you overcome with Jason Todd, you always eventually make it back to each other. Even after his death, how could you still love a man who changed so much? Even when you made a turn for the worst.
Series Masterlist
Tumblr media
No child would ever imagine the world to be as cruel as it really is.
Yet then again, most adults would refrain from exposing their children into the world, the harsh reality of it, at least, and Gotham was definitely a place of violence and rage.
The small nightmares every child would experience would never live up to the cruel reality of the world.
"Y/N, baby, get up," your mother whispered into your ear, panicked and rushed, causing for your eyes to flutter open.
It was still dark, meaning that it couldn't be morning, but your mother was hunched beside your bed with her fingers trailing through your hair, and that was when your gaze met her own fearful ones.
Her voice was so low in a whisper that you could barely manage to hear, fearful of what - or who - could hear us.
"We need to leave, baby. Come on."
With your eyes still groggy and barely comprehending the situation, your mother's arms carefully scooped your body up from beneath the warmth of your blankets, her grip tight and secure as she adjusted your body in her hold. You didn't fail to notice the heavy thumping of her chest and the pale complexion to her face.
“Mummy?” You asked, but she was quick to hush you, her gaze burning into the door with a look of terror you would never forget.
She waited, as if she were expecting the door to swing open any moment, but it only left the both of you in a deafening silence. Despite the obvious confusion set on your face, your mother chose to ignore it, not giving any indication as to what was occurring on the other side of the door.
With the few passing moments, your grip on her tightened, and the many fearful questions were swarming your mind. You were scared, but of what?
Without a word, she took a single step toward the door with you still held tightly in her arms, and just as her hand went to grasp the handle-
“Mum!” You spoke, too loud for her liking, because she jumped back away from the door as if it had burnt her flesh and clasped a tight hand over your mouth. She listened carefully, and when she was comfortable enough, she took her hand away.
“What did I tell you?” She whispered harshly, but her eyes softened when she saw the fearful gaze you held. “What is it?”
You pointed behind you both, back to your bed where your favorite teddy laid beside the unmade sheets. It was only small, the perfect size for a small child, with soft brown fur and button eyes. You remembered that night your father came home from work, a bouquet of various different flowers for your mother in one hand, and in his other hand he held the brown bear. He had just gone away on a long business trip, and you were overly excited after not seeing him the last few weeks. Maybe it was the fact it was from your dad, or maybe it was simply because of the soft fur, but it was by far your favorite teddy to hold while you slept.
Letting out a long cautious sigh, your mum quickly picked up the bear before giving it to you, your hands instantly going to clutch at the teddy while your mum went back over to the door.
“Ok, sweetheart. I’m going to need you to play a game with me, ok?” She looked down at you, and you nodded despite the darkness of your bedroom, only your lamp casting a small glow around the room.
She smiled gently and gave a quick peck to your forehead.
“Ok, we’re going to see who can be quiet the longest. I know you always beat me, and that’s why when I put you down, you’re going to run and hide so we can do some hide and seek.”
If it weren’t for the dim light, you only just managed to catch a glimpse of the hot tear streaking down your mother's cheek.
“Do you understand, baby?”
You nodded once more, holding a finger up to your lips as your sign you knew you had to be quiet. She let out a quiet breathy laugh.
You watched as she reached forward, her hand shaking as she grasped the door handle and slowly twisted it, pushing the door open. It was dark, the only source of light being the living room light from downstairs. You heard a small muffle of voices, one you recognized to be your father.
You wondered if maybe your dad had decided to play with you, too. Maybe that’s why your mum had been so quiet and told you to hide.
Your mum knelt down, carefully placing you down onto your feet before she stood up to her full height. You thought that it was your time to start hiding, but right as you went to turn, her hand was grasping yours tightly and she was walking down the stairs to where your father and the unknown strangers were.
There was a wall dividing the living room and the stairs, so anybody on the other side wouldn’t be able to see your mother and you crouched down at the bottom of the stairs. You watched as your mother peeked around the corner, probably to check that nobody was looking, because she was quick to pull you along to the other side of the room. You only caught a glimpse of the living room.
Your father was leant up against the kitchen counter, still clad in his pajamas, whilst five men you had never seen before stood beside the dining table. Four of them were each dressed in black, but the one in the middle was wearing what looked to be a clown costume. A purple suit with a weird bow tie, his skin as pale as a sheet of paper that made him look almost sickly. His hair was also a deep green, and for a moment you wondered if you even saw right.
The clown had a huge grin plastered onto his face, almost too wide to be natural, revealing his slightly yellowed teeth.
Your mother pushed you against the wall to remain out of sight, and when she knelt down to your level to get a good look at you, you could see the tears now freely falling from her eyes.
“Ok, my sweet girl. It’s time to hide,” she whispered next to your ear, her breath tickling your skin.
You nodded, and that’s when she leant forward to press a lingering kiss to your cheek, her fingers combing through your hair, just like how she would do it any other day to simply play with your hair.
With a quick nod, she gently pushed on your shoulders and watched as you sneakily crept to your chosen hiding spot.
It was by far your favorite spot, a small hatch underneath the desk pushed up against the wall. It was hidden beneath the few piles of shoes cluttered around, and you had to hastily move them enough to open the hatch.
You cringed once the hinges made an old rusty screech, and with ease you crawled inside, making sure to close the hatch securely behind you. Hugging your knees to your chest, you shuffled your position and felt the rough dirt and dust cling to your clothes. The bear that was still held in your hand was put at your feet, even though you couldn't see it with the darkness.
Although you could still vaguely hear the ongoing conversation, most of what you could hear was muffled. You tensed once you heard the loud cackles of the green haired man, shivers erupting over your body.
“Mrs. Y/L/N! How lovely to see the family together- oh wait, no… your little girl isn’t here?” He mocked sadness.
“She won’t be coming, Joker,” You heard your dad speak before your mother could, his voice stern and protective.
“Aw, what a shame. I was really looking forward to meeting the little lady! Perhaps maybe I can after this has all blown over.”
At this point, your confusion only grew. Nobody was coming to find you yet, and your mum was now in the same room as your dad and those other men. You felt your gut twist uncomfortably, and the fear was coursing through your body.
You wanted your parents. You didn't like this game anymore. You could only wish you were back in the warmth of your bed, peacefully asleep and unaware of the world around me.
Your mother let out a sudden loud sob.
“Please, just- just don’t hurt us or our baby. She doesn’t know anything,” you heard her cry more, and before another word could be said, a loud gunshot echoed throughout the house causing you to jump and bump your head on the hatch door.
“No!” You heard your dad scream, and it was then that you knew none of this was right. His voice was a tone you had never heard before, filled with pain and anger. You didn’t hear your mother anymore. Was she-
“I did you a favor,” the Joker cooed, your fathers muffled crying echoing throughout the house. “Women are picky. You can’t tell me the girl didn’t annoy you at least once?! You should be thanking me!”
“You monster!” Your dad screamed, before he was harshly cut off by him grunting in pain.
“Now, now, don’t be so picky. She was bothering the both of us. Now, where’s your little girl?” The Joker said, clapping his hands in a ‘chop-chop’ motion.
There was no response from your father, and you didn’t even realize the fresh tears streaming down your cheeks and falling onto your knees. You held back any whimpers in order to stay hidden.
“If you won’t tell me,” the Joker started, his tone switching from cheerful to dark. “Then I’ll get her myself.”
It was barely a few seconds, five at least, before the hatch door was swung open and your arms were grabbed. You screamed and thrashed, before you were harshly pushed forward onto the floor. Your head made impact with the wooden slats, and you cried out.
Despite the tears clouding your vision, you didn’t fail to notice the body of your mother laying lifeless on the floor, hot crimson blood spilling from a hole in her head and pooling around the floor, her blue top now stained red. Her eyes were open, glazed over and lacking life, and it looked as if she was merely frozen in fear.
You weren’t crying anymore. The tears had stopped, and now you could only watch with wide eyes the sight before you. Your mum, who you had touched and talked to and heard only a few minutes ago, was dead.
“Y/N,” your dad called, his arms outstretched, and you were knocked from your thoughts and practically stumbled into his open arms.
“Don’t look, baby. It’s ok, just don’t look,” he whispered into your ear, but his voice was shaky, and you could feel his own tears soaking into the fabric of your pajama shirt.
You heard footsteps near, but you refused to remove your face from the crook of your dad's neck, the only way to hide the scene behind you. You felt a cold hand pat your head, and your dad tugged you away from the stranger.
“Beautiful little girl you’ve gotten yourself, Xavier. She looks almost identical to you,” the Joker teased. “You know, I bet she’ll become just as great a fighter as you, huh? Just imagine it, father and daughter, working alongside the one and only Joker to rule over Gotham! Oh, it will all be so much fun, what do you say?”
You turned your head a little, catching a glimpse of the Joker crouching at the knees in front of your father and you, the smile never leaving his face. When your dad didn’t say anything, the Jokers sickening gaze drifted to you.
“How about we let the little one decide, huh? What do you think, little clown?”
You didn’t need to try answering, because your dad's grip on your body was tightening to the point you could just barely breathe.
“No, you sick shit! She’s only a kid! She’s only just started second grade. She doesn’t deserve any of this.”
For a moment, it was quiet.
“You’re right…” You heard Joker sigh, standing to his feet. “Maybe that’s why we need to let her choose for herself, and to not be influenced by the wrong kind of people.”
The Joker clicked his fingers once. Two of the guards came forward and pried you from your father's warm embrace, and once more you were crying, reaching out for him. You watched as he attempted to fight to get you back but was pinned down by the other two guards while Joker stood over him.
“Such a shame, really. I did enjoy your small family. Unfortunately, it might just need to be a little smaller now.” he reached into his suit pocket, pulling out what looked to be a long needle filled with a black tinted liquid. “Recognize this?”
You watched as your dad's eyes widened, and tears streamed down his face while his voice cracked with each word.
“P-please, not my little girl. Not my girl. I’ll do anything!”
Joker laughed, loud. “Oh, you poor man. This wasn’t for the child! I’m not that cruel!” He stalked closer to your father, watching in amusement as he thrashed wildly in an attempt to escape. You saw the fear flash in his eyes.
The Joker leant close to his face, licking his lips in a mocking manner while holding up the small needle so that your dad could see.
“This wasn’t meant for your daughter, it was meant for you, silly!” And just like that, the sharp tip of the needle was penetrating your dad's flesh at the neck, his eyes grown wide in horror. He didn’t even try to fight anymore, his body giving up while he turned his head to you for the last time.
“Y/N,” he chocked, and you watched with frightful eyes as black veins spread across his neck, traveling over his body like bolts of lightning. He groaned in pain.
"I love you so much, baby. I'm sorry," he cried. "Do you understand? I love you so much."
Your body shook as his eyes met yours. You didn't have the voice to say it back, and you saw the hurt flash in his eyes. Opening your mouth, the only thing that would come out was a chocked sob.
He fell onto his side, limp.
The Joker wiped a fake tear. "Oh my, how sad..."
He paid no mind as you continued to cry, calling out for your parents. You were sure that you were next, and you flinched when you felt the Joker's hand pat your head. He let out a maniacal laugh the more you cried, and you physically struggled to inhale more air. Nearly instantly, he frowned to what you thought was sympathy, tutting.
“Don’t worry about them, my new apprentice! Life would have been so boring here; I'm giving you another chance! How exciting! Harley will be thrilled!"
You didn't fight as he took your hand, your shaky body going to stand beside him. Even when he continued to drag you toward the door, your gaze was trained on the bodies laid out in the middle of the room, and it was then that you realized that the only person you had now was this man.
A monster brought from your nightmares.
©x-gabrielle-x. Do not steal, copy or translate my works.
129 notes · View notes
blakeswritingimagines · 2 years ago
Text
Who fell first and who fell harder
Joker: You fell first and harder
Harley Quinn: She fell first and harder
Catwoman: She fell first and harder
Riddler: He fell first but you fell harder
Penguin: He fell first and harder
Scarecrow: You fell first but he fell harder
Deathstroke: You fell first and harder
Bane: He fell first but you fell harder
Mr Freeze: He fell first and harder
Two-Face: He fell first but you fell harder
Poison Ivy: You fell first but she fell harder
Killer Croc: You fell first and harder
2K notes · View notes
helpfandom · 1 year ago
Note
Can I please request the Batman 2004 version of Joker vs Harley hcs both platonic yandere who don’t wanna share there (forced ) adopted kid with each other, meanwhile reader is eyeing up the strange bat shadow in the corner of the room.
Tumblr media
Fun fact! Kevin Michael Richardson is the first African-American to voice/play Joker! (As far as my knowledge is.)
This is of course, based off of the chill/mean Reader.
Joker Vs. Harley. They each have different approaches to getting you to go to their side, both delusional enough to think that if they can get you onto their side, then the other will back off from trying to parent their child.
The thing is that Harley has been shown to have a weak spot for Joker to exploit her, in all of the versions I have seen. [aka, two, but I digress.]
Most likely how it would be that Harley is first to fall into her obsession, and of course, when Joker says to kill you [and or throw you into acid], she stands up for you, noting how calm you've been. So of course, his shock when Harley stands up for herself only because of you? He cares now, ordering Punch to find out more about you, and then becoming obsessed himself.
Harley has the best chance of being the one you go to / who wins the fight between the two, since Harley's been the one sticking up for you.
Joker, however, has more strength and willpower over Harley, not to mention how you would be more scared of Joker [if Reader is scared at all], so you would fear upsetting him and losing your life.
You just sat there watching them argue so much it sounded like two parents who desperately needed to divorce but never would for fear that the child needed both parents. In the corner of your eye, you could see a shadow moving, that is until Joker snaps his finger at you to divert your attention back to them.
"Which one o' us do you prefer?"
326 notes · View notes
va-3 · 10 months ago
Text
They're Injured
Masterlist
Joker:
Joker was always being hunted, shot at, and chased in car chases. Yes, you were always with him, and it technically was your job to sacrifice your life for his if it eventually came to such a point, but Mr. J had switched the roles. A gunfight had broken out in Mr. J's club. You'd repeated yourself at least ten times, yelling at Mr. J to get him to either leave or get down. Instead, he managed to switch roles and send you rolling under a table to watch him get shot in the shoulder. It goes to say that you were as pissed as you were worried, seeing that your greeting to him later was a sharp punch to the stomach followed by a passionate kiss. 
Captain Boomerang:
Digger was used to being in the line of fire, and was less than worried when he took a shot to the leg in a less than pleasant robbery. You, on the other hand, upon discovery of his wild adventure and injury, panicked in the most subtle way possible. Unfortunately, subtle in your dictionary was drive over to his house at 2am, kick down the door, scold him, and then proceed to break down crying. 
Deadshot:
In his line of work it was not unusual for him to be hunted in return, as was the occasional "battle-wound". You, on the other hand, found yourself worrying more than you should've. Death was a difficult enemy of mortals, not you, therefore you were entitled to the worry and fear that accompanied the blossoming of your relationship. Needless to say, you had him on a house lock-in for quite some time after his shoulder had been shot clean through. (snuggles were very much included)
El Diablo:
Injuries in battle were hard to avoid, as were near death experiences. You watched in horror as Chato shoved the ancient being towards the location of a lethally powerful charge. When it went off, you were nowhere to be found for a good few seconds. The team was confused until they heard you sobbing from behind the blasted ground, cradling an unconscious, severely injured, but alive Chato.
Killer Croc:
Waylon, bruised an battered after the battle with Enchantress, was pleasantly surprised when you body-slammed/bear-hugged him to near death. You'd never been so worried in your entire life, and although the injuries he sustained were little, your entire being was telling you he was gonna die. It was hard to explain that he was okay through your mix of blubbering and cursing. 
Harley Quinn:
When Harleen freed you from your solitary-confinement room, she was not herself. You were happy to see her, but the joy was quickly overrun with worry when you spotted the two burn marks on either side of her temple left behind by what you knew was electroshock. Concerned, you questioned her like an officer would a criminal until she gave out and let you tend to her wounds before fleeing the cursed institution(no regrets there). 
June Moone:
June's well being meant everything to you, any moment you felt she was in danger you try your hardest to keep her from it. But mental damage was something you could not fight, or shoot. June was tormented nightly by the dangerous being using her as a vessel, and it broke you to know that you could not do anything about it. Instead, you did your best to comfort her: held her close, calmed her with kisses, and gave her the love she needed to mend her broken soul. With your love, June felt the power to face anything. 
Enchantress: 
The mortal soldier held your love's heart in his hands, threatening to crush everything you loved for something he loved. When she refused, your eyes flashed with panic. The soldier began to crush her heart, causing her to shriek with unbelievable pain. Terrified of losing the only person who saw you as a blessing, you snatched the heart from the soldier in a bolt of light. In the flash of light, time slowed around you, giving you just enough time to sway Enchantress' spirit from the human girls body and into one you summoned from your own power. You and your lover backed away from the mortal and his human lover, happy to be safe.
Next
247 notes · View notes
acid-ixx · 5 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
(name) wayne, gagged and tied to a chair:
the villain, untying their gag: hahaha! i have kidnapped you for ransom and your father only has 5 hours left to save you by paying me!!!
(name) wayne: damn bruh my father hasn't spoken to me in 13 and a half years i don't think he's coming for me at all, better if you shoot me instead lmao cause i don't think batman would save me either
villain: ...
yan! villain, untying your ropes: welp, kidnapping is basically illegal adoption, am i right?
(name) wayne: as long as i'm fed three times a day and you read me bed time stories before i sleep then i guess that counts?
yan! villain: sweetheart, you are getting more than that.
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
marcyvamp1re-blog · 1 month ago
Text
PIERROT, THE SAD CLOWN.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairings ⸺ Yandere! Richard 'Dick' Grayson x Villain! Fem! Reader.
¿Request? Yes!
This is a Headcanon!
sinopsis ⸺ From the moment he first saw her, Dick Grayson knew he loved her. However, she could only perceive the sadness and darkness surrounding her. Despite his efforts, he couldn’t make her see the light he wanted to offer.
He firmly believed he could be her happiness.
warnings ⸺ Angst, ¿OOC Dick? Idk, Dark Themes, Dead, murdering, Disturbing Content, Unhealthy Obsession, Street Fights, Gaslight, Violence, Blood, Child Abuse, Kidnapping, Sexual Content, Noncon, Mental Illness, Corruption, Isolation, Trauma, Paranoia, Manipulation.
A/N ── English is not my first language—Spanish is— This, to be honest, is a headcanon I came up with about three minutes ago after I was left unsatisfied with the results of two headcanons I made about Jason. Since I didn't like them, I started writing a story that I had pending about Dick Grayson.
On another note, I want to thank you for the 500 followers ♡ I will keep posting more things and such.
Tumblr media
Yandere! Dick Grayson who... had never felt such a deep void until he saw you for the first time, a blurred shadow among the rubble of Blüdhaven. You, the villain who neither screamed nor laughed, only existed in a perpetual sadness, became his obsession. Pierrot, his very own Joker, trapped in a prison of melancholy, without the frenetic spark of the crazies he used to face. That sadness you emanated was his own reflection, a crack he wanted to mend with his love, a love that bordered on madness.
Yandere! Dick Grayson who... from the rooftops, watched you wander the streets, always with that lost look, as if you didn't belong to this world. Every time they fought, he felt something breaking more inside you, something he could fix if only you let him get close. The nights were long, filled with endless watchings, as he silently followed you, keeping a prudent distance, until he could no longer bear it. He knew he was losing you. How was it possible that you couldn't see how much he loved you, how much he needed you? You were trapped in your own sadness, and he, in his obsession to save you.
Yandere! Dick Grayson who... one day, while watching you from the shadows, found you on top of a rooftop, and thought you were going to jump. But no. You were crying, again. It was always the same. You approached the edge, and terror engulfed him. He thought you would leap, and for the first time felt something beyond duty: he felt he couldn't lose you. So, he researched everything he could about you. Your past revealed itself to him as a dull echo of emotional deprivation, a devastated childhood, and that dark philosophy about life, death, and chaos that you admired in the Joker. You had lost yourself in that labyrinth of despair, and he swore he would bring you back.
Yandere! Dick Grayson who... when he finally caught you, instead of taking you to justice as he had done before, he took you to Arkham, believing you would be safe there, under his constant watch. He visited you, he watched over you. But it wasn't long before you escaped, thanks to the Joker. Time and again, you faced him, and time and again, Dick brought you back to that exhausting cycle. However, something in him broke the last time he caught you.
Yandere! Dick Grayson who... when conventional methods failed, began to seek more extreme solutions. He took you to Wayne Manor the second time you escaped from Arkham. He locked you in a room from which you couldn't escape. It wasn't a cell, it was a luxury prison, but a prison nonetheless. He watched you day and night, ensuring that nothing and no one would ever hurt you again. The need to protect you had turned into something sick. He kept you safe, locked away. It wasn't a cold cell, but the walls suffocated you, and Dick's constant presence, ever-watchful, made you feel that freedom was just an illusion. Your protests became muted whispers drowned by his excessive devotion. He didn't understand why you couldn't see what he was doing for you, why you resisted. He believed that if he could control you enough, if he could protect you from yourself, you would eventually realize that you loved him.
Yandere! Dick Grayson who... looked at Bruce and the others in the Wayne family with a mix of resentment and pity. They spent millions on therapies, on psychiatrists trying to "cure you," on initiatives to "reform you." How could they be so blind? He was the only one who understood what you truly needed. The Batfamily treated you like a project, while Dick saw you as the love of his life. Didn't they realize that only he could save you? But while the others saw your despair as an illness, Dick saw in your sadness a kind of beauty that no one else understood. To them, you were just a villain; to him, you were his everything.
Yandere! Dick Grayson who... every time he found you on the edge of the abyss, when your empty eyes stared into nothingness, when everything around you seemed to break apart, he was there. He hugged you tightly, his hands gripping you as though they could tie you to the world. "I love you," he whispered in your ear, as if those words could heal the pain you carried inside. He felt your resistance, your hopelessness, but that only fueled his desire further. He was convinced he could tear you from the grips of your own sadness, even if he had to break you to rebuild you.
Yandere! Dick Grayson who... when you escaped from Wayne Manor, he searched for you with frantic intensity. Every time he found you, he only saw one more opportunity to prove to you that he was the only one who could save you. He surrounded you with his body, protecting you from the world, but also imprisoning you. Bruce confronted him one night, warning him that his obsession was consuming him, but Dick merely replied that love was like that, devouring and total.
Yandere! Dick Grayson who... faced Harley when she tried to pull you from the abyss, believing that the chaos of the Joker would be your only salvation. But Harley didn't know what Dick knew. He could give you peace, love, not the unrestrained madness she offered. When he confronted her, the fight was not just physical. Harley mocked him, telling him he could never save you, that you would always be a tragedy, like her. And when Harley's blood stained the ground, Dick knew he had crossed a line. It wasn't a heroic battle, but a desperate act. He did it for you, to protect you from those who wanted to send you back to hell.
Yandere! Dick Grayson who... the days became blurred as he kept you in the Manor, away from the world that hurt you so much. He wanted you to understand that everything he did, every confinement, every possessive caress, was for your own good. Meanwhile, Alfred and Bruce tried to convince him that what he was doing was not love, but control. But for Dick, words were useless. He believed that true love required sacrifice, and if he had to sacrifice your freedom to save you, then he would do it without hesitation.
Yandere! Dick Grayson who... decided that you could no longer be in the hands of others. No one else understood what you needed. He took you to his apartment, to a place where the windows were closed and the doors always locked. You were no longer free, but you were not alone either. Dick cared for you, spoke to you of a future where you would be together and happy. Every time you tried to escape, he stopped you, not with anger, but with a disturbing calm. "It's for your own good," he told you, as he held you tighter than seemed necessary. His caresses were gentle, but behind them, there was always something darker, a desperation that grew with each attempt to flee.
Yandere! Dick Grayson who... the first time he possessed you was, for him, an unforgettable moment. Your body trembled, amidst tears, as he whispered how much he loved you each time his pelvis met your backside. In his mind, you loved how he took you, how he made your intimacy cry for more of him, and how he filled you with his seed at the end of the night. Each of your sobs only reinforced his conviction that you were his forever, as he enveloped you in a mix of devotion and obsession from which you didn't know how to escape.
Yandere! Dick Grayson who... followed you even into the darkest corners of your mind, where others dared not tread. When the Joker attempted to drag you back into chaos, Dick confronted him one night. The confrontation was brutal, swift, and when Dick was done, the ground was stained red. You, trembling and broken, watched as Dick tore apart the Joker's henchmen with a brutality you had never witnessed in him. That night, he took you back, covered in cuts and with a twisted smile, convinced he had saved you once more.
Yandere! Dick Grayson who... dreamed of the day when you would come to your senses, when you both could walk hand in hand, form a family. In his dreams, you smiled, forgetting the pain, redeemed by his love. But those dreams never became reality, and with each passing day, you moved further away from that vision.
Yandere! Dick Grayson who... made you his in the only way he knew how. Without consent, without a voice to defend you, he took you before a judge and secretly married you. The marriage was not a celebration but an act of possession. The ceremony was silent, intimate in its darkness. Dick looked at you with that mix of devotion and madness as he bound you to him forever. In his distorted mind, it was the happy ending he had always imagined. You were no longer Pierrot, the tragic villain. You were his, completely. And in that possession, he believed he had found peace. Now you were Dick Grayson's wife, trapped in a bond you never asked for, but which he believed was your only salvation. He saw it as the perfect conclusion, the ending he had always desired. Because if you couldn't love the world, at least you could love him.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
A/N ─── I hope you enjoyed this. Don't forget to leave a comment and a little heart.
Don't hesitate to ask me anything if you want.
take a bath!
368 notes · View notes
nabooberrie · 4 months ago
Text
If I was the joker, I would carry around, cinnamon spray, because bats hate the smell and leave the area
Tumblr media
124 notes · View notes
jasonsknight3 · 11 months ago
Text
I decided to write about one of my favorite Jason's. Arkham knight Jason. These are just some thoughts I have.
Jason smokes. A lot would be an understatement. It's almost constant. The few times he isn't smoking is when he is in the mask (obviously) or in a non-smoking area. Does he know its bad for him? YES,it's a struggle. Does he think about quitting? Yes. However, it feels good. It relaxes him. His near constant tense body gets a break when he smokes.
AK Jason has serious sleep issues. Between the sleepless nights in Arkham and not even knowing when the night has begun or ended has messed him up. All the nights he’s been doing morally grey vigilante work. He doesn’t exactly care anymore either but that’s because he doesn’t necessarily care about himself too much anymore.
He keeps to himself for the most part. When he’s out and about he doesn’t say much. Only speak if necessary. Most of the time he’s thinking. Always thinking. Mowing over the choices, his life, how it could be different.
He. Is. Violent. He hasn’t really dealt with the trauma. He is still burning with hate. Sure he switched sides as the morally grey Redhood but he still feels the blackness. He is violent when he’s angry. Sometimes may hurt you. Now whether he means to or not is a different story. He may not even know himself if he meant to.
AK Jason has lost a major amount of hearing in his left ear due to his time in Arkham. All the beatings, all the hits to the side of his head. It was inevitable really. He will use a hearing aid when he’s in civilian attire but not as he’s alter because the mask has built in hearing enhancement. In his right ear however luckily he only lost 5% of his hearing.
Jason twitches like crazy. It’s usually what he would call phantom shocks. Being tortured the way he did with the “shock therapy” he probably has nerve damage too. He doesn’t really know but he doesn’t find it a priority to find out.
It takes a sweet heart to break down his walls, a caring woman with soft gentle hands. A woman with patience and time.
He’s not necessarily a physically affectionate man. He’d feel anxiety if you try to touch him in any way. However if and when you get close he will display some sort of physical affection. Holding your pinky, or wrist (never your whole hand though, that feels scary for him. That will come even later.)
Begin with him is a risk. As mentioned in his violent headcanon he may hurt you. He’ll wonder why you’d stay but he’s not necessarily complaining though.
The only creature he will let touch him is his cat. Finley or Finn for short. He is the only think Jason will willingly show love to and let show love back. In a way, Finn is teaching Jason how to be gentle again. How to love.
In his heart of hearts. In the deepest part of himself he is just a man who forgot how to love and how to be loved.
309 notes · View notes
neiveel3llson · 11 months ago
Text
Alfred: I didn’t even realize how sarcastic I was being. It’s starting to become a problem, I believe.
Dick: I lost Damian.
Y/N: How did you LOSE Damian?!
Dick: To be fair, he is very small.
Bruce: Did you have to stab them?
Jason: You weren’t there. You didn’t hear what they said to me.
Bruce: What did they say?
Jason: "What are you going to do, stab me?"
Bruce: That’s fair.
Y/N: *screaming while holding something large.*
Dick: *Chasing Y/N, screaming at them to not throw the large object.*
Jason: *Crouching at the car window, begging Damian not to call Bruce.*
Dispatcher: 911, what's your emergancy?
Tim: We locked our baby brother in the car and people are judging us!
*Comments under an image of a really hot knife cutting bread*
Jason: Imagine stabbing someone with this knife.
Tim: It would instantly cauterize the wound, so the person wouldn't bleed, so it's not very useful.
Y/N: if you want information it is
Dick: why would you STAB a person when you can have TOAST?
Jason: What are you talking about Dick? You love it here!
Dick: I'm not sure I do, I think I've just developed Stockholm syndrome.
Damian: You need to be more careful!
Bruce, who was dragged into Damian's issue: Careful? CAREFUL?! I'LL CAREFULLY WRAP MY HANDS AROUND YOUR THROAT-
Damian: Wow. I keep stepping on a lot of crunchy twigs.
Y/N: Those are bones, Damian.
Damian: *looks straight up* Not if I never look down.
Bruce: Yeah, I find it quite emotional. In like a cool way.
Alfred: Sir, did you just say it makes you cry in a cool way?
Damian: But what about Y/N?
Jason: Don't worry about them.
Jason: I once watched them fall down 5 flights of stairs, stand up, and keep eating their hotdog like nothing happened.
Tim: Your problem is that you’ve got no common sense.
Y/N: I’ve got plenty of common sense!
Y/N: I just choose to ignore it.
*Playing house with Damian and Jon.*
Jason, at Jon: You're my significant other.
Jon: Yeah I am!
Jason, at Dick: You're my child.
Dick: *Rolls eyes* Yes boss.
Jason, at Tim: You're my bitch.
Tim: Yeah I am- wait, what?
Jason, at Y/N: My bestie.
Y/N: Naturally.
Jason, Damian: HA, GAY!
Damian: Fuck you.
Alfred: And then they ran into my knife. They ran into my knife ten times.
Bruce: You mean you stabbed them?
Alfred: They ran into my knife, sir.
Bruce: Breaking News, Dick has disappointed us.
Tim: Why do you look like that?
Damian, laying face-first on the floor: Like what?
Tim: Like you’re dead.
Damian: It’s because I’m dying. Leave me here to perish.
Alfred: Young master Damian accidentally called Y/N “babe” in front of everyone today.
Damian: *sobs into the floor*
Alfred: *Turns on the kitchen light*
Y/N: *Sitting at the table, eating bread*
Alfred: It’s four in the morning, young master.
Y/N: Turn the light back off.
Bruce: This is a judgement free zone.
*Pulls out a knife the size of their forearm*
Bruce: And I mean it.
Tim: Well you see, the explanation is perfectly simple and scientific. It was because shut up. Shut up is why.
Y/N: Listen, in the wild wild west there is always a woman in the saloon and nobody messes with her even though they all have guns.
Dick: That's because she's a prostitute.
Bruce: Tim, why are you crying?
Tim: This book is so sad!!
Bruce, picking it up: But this is my diary-
Dick: Can we talk about that mass email you sent?
Y/N: Why? It was important.
Dick: All it says is, "I'm back on my shit".
Damian, shrugging: The people need to know.
Y/N, to Jason: You're starting to forget your Spanish. You don't practice.
Jason: Lo siento. Estoy embarazada.
Y/N: You just told me you're pregnant.
Damian: Congratulations Jason, you're glowing!
Y/N: If we were in prison you guys would be like my bitches.
*When Y/N and Jason were young and new.*
Bruce: Where the devil is Alfred?
Y/N: Well, it is raining outside... Maybe he melted?
Tim: Shall I look outside for a pointy hat?
Jason: Thanks for opening my message and not responding.
Y/N: All good bro, any time.
Jason: Fuck you.
Damian, over radio: Testing. Testing. Bruce, can you hear me?
Bruce, standing next to Damian: I’m standing right here.
Damian: You’re coming through good and loud.
Bruce: ‘Cause I’m standing right here.
Alfred: Perhaps, the true treasure was friendship all along. Although, I hope not, because I cannot spend friendship on new suits.
Damian: You wanna fight?! You got one!
Y/N: Okay! *raises fists*
*Bruce runs in, scoops Y/N up in their arms, and runs away carrying them because he just didnt want them to fight. Yet.*
Damian:
Damian: What?
Y/N: Any questions?
Dick: Uh, yeah, WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?
Y/N: Uh, a plan, duh...
Damian: Dick, chill, I know it’s weird, but Y/N has a point.
Dick:
Dick: THAT WAS LITERALLY A PONY DOODLE WITH A HAT!!
*Alternatively*
Joker: Any questions?
Y/N: Uh, yeah, WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?
Joker: Uh, a plan, duh...
Harley: Y/N, chill, I know it’s weird, but Joker has a point.
Y/N:
Y/N: THAT WAS LITERALLY A PONY DOODLE WITH A HAT!!
Bruce, answering the phone: Hello?
Damian: It’s Damian.
Bruce: What did they do this time?
Damian: No, it’s me, Damian. It’s actually me.
Bruce: What did you do this time?
Dick: Everyone thinks you suck.
Joker: I think you have the wrong number…
Dick: Damian?
Joker: Nope. Joker.
Dick: Well, you probably suck too…
Y/N: When I first met you, I thought you were weird and annoying.
Tim: And?
Y/N: And you are.
188 notes · View notes