Bad Guy Kissers Club

[villain-fo-imagines]

2024 is going to be the year of romanticizing that old man. Woo him and knock his socks off. Watch his favorite films with him. Read literature together. Give him a dozen roses. Whisper sweet nothings in his ear. Cover his face in lipstick stains and leave him a blushing mess.

[batsyishere]

The fact that Batman insists on calling his villains by their names makes me feel so many things.

He insists on these people’s humanity even after everything they’ve done.

That’s not Poison Ivy, that’s Pamela.

That’s not Harley Quinn, that’s Harleen.

That’s not Scarecrow, that’s Doctor Crane.

That’s not Killer Croc, that’s Waylon.

That’s not Riddler, that’s Ed.

They’re not a “rogues gallery”, they are people.

[finniestoncrane]

🍦 with AK! Scarecrow? That would make my heart go doki-doki like an anime protagonist

Cleansing Aftermath

Arkham!Scarecrow x Female!Reader, word count: 600 lmao me TOO!! i want to peel that burlap off and get it washed with the nicest and most sensitive fabric softener while i get him all scrubbed up (i'm brushing his teeth too) also the desire to draw this man in a bath with a rubber pumpkin (or crow, thank you server!) was strong enough that i will be doing that as soon as possible 🎃🧡 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: blood mention, injury mention, mention of sickness, bathing

You dipped your hand, cloth gripped tight, back into the murky brown water, tinged with remnants of grease, slivers of blood, and various bits of grime and dirt. At one point you’d seen him pick a shard of something bright and shining from one of the wounds on his side and flick it into the horrid soup he was stewing in with a half-amused sentiment.

“Everything comes to the surface.”

“Shall I run a magnet over you, instead of a cloth?”

Jonathan had seen his fair share of violence, not just that orchestrated by his own hand. Constant beatings from Gotham’s praised vigilante, an assault by a reptilian monster, poor living conditions, a childhood of abuse. The number of injuries that marred his body was too much to count, and he couldn’t even remember them all anymore. Every so often, a shrapnel of history would dislodge itself from within his skin. This one likely finding it’s way to the surface as a new gash on his arm was opened over older scar tissue.

“How interesting that the edge of his ridiculous weapons would open an old wound and let loose the point of an old one. At the very least, the new models seem less brittle.”

There wasn’t much that Jonathan couldn’t take in his stride, and while normally you might panic at the first sigh of injury, of blood dappled on his long coat, staining the metal of his leg brace as it trickled down from his arm and side to his feet, his calm and collected mannerisms always served to keep you from a panic. But it was often a source of irritation, how flippant he could be about his own safety. As dry as his wit was, it still felt puerile to make light of the situation.

“Jonathan. Please take this seriously.”

He let his fingers skim over the top of the water, through the thing froth of soap bubbles that survived the already lengthy cleansing he had gone through. His eyes looked to you where you knelt beside him, arms resting on the edge of the tub, chin resting on your arms. With what he could muster of a smile, he apologised silently, the intent behind his clouded eyes obvious, maybe not to everyone, but to you at least. With your hand on his shoulder, you rubbed in gentle circles with your fingers until he let out a groan that vibrated through the chest infection that had embedded itself within him a few weeks ago.

“You need medicine.”

You reached to press your hand to his sternum, trying to feel for any signs of a more serious infection, not really knowing what you were looking for beyond rattling wheezes and perhaps an irregular heartbeat. But, sending what you were trying to do, he placed his fingers slowly and softly around your wrist, holding you there, steady, as he chastised you with the kind of gentle care you’d come to know well.

“I just need time to recover. To gather myself. I’ll heal when I have time, physically anyway. And I’ll have time once I’ve begun to heal emotionally. That, unfortunately, requires a great deal of risk.”

There was no point in arguing with him. He knew best, even when you disagreed with him you knew that to be a fact. So instead, you did as you usually did, dedicating yourself to helping him recover, to offer him moments of rest that you hoped amounted to something bigger. Fingers trailing from his shoulder to his chest, you pushed down gently, watching him sink lower into the bath, his muscles relaxing as the lukewarm water covered him up to his chin.

[finniestoncrane]

hi finnie this is!! out of character for me but what ab headcannons for arkham knight riddler with an endlessly adoring partner? Like always happy to listen, answers his riddles right(after struggling an appropriate amount of course), just totally devoted and sweet to eddie<333

Sweet Partner Headcanons

Arkham!Riddler x GN!Reader do you mean "what if finnie was his partner" because literally ;-; ok let's give this good boy some sweet adoration!! 💚🔧 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: it's just fluff, heaven forbid!

it would be hard for him to remain completely in character as his usual grumpy self

because what he wants most in the world is for someone to dote on him

to give him their undivided attention

and what he needs more than anything in the world is someone who loves him unconditionally

who is genuinely interested in what he has to say

encouraging, enthusiastic, always keen to hear more

it's sort of... new for him, to have that kind of love

where someone will hang on your every word, not to disprove you or mock you or shut you down

but out of interest, in you and your ideas

it's so strange, but in a good way?

it feels almost like a panic attack, or when he gets very very frustrated

the elevated heart-rate, the sweating, the tightness in his chest and throat

but this is tolerable, different

this feels good

you make him feel good

and he's never felt that before, so it might take some getting used to, especially returning the favour

but it's easy to tell that he appreciates it

he smiles more, his riddles get less... cruel, less challenging, as time goes on

not that he didn't enjoy the sweet way your face scrunched up when you were concentrating

and the way you begged and pleaded for him to give you the answer, always smiling as you tugged his sleeves or prodded him

or the way you sighed with relief when you knew the answer

it's almost ike he's willing you to succeed and do well

and he supposes it's because he believes you are intelligent

maybe not as much as him

but more so than anyone else in the world, he assumes

because you're the only one who can see how much of a perfect genius he is

and that alone makes you special

maybe even deserving of his returned affections

[villain-fo-imagines]

I just think it would be very therapeutic to delicately hold the hands of a menace to society and paint their nails for them.