#are the only things I imported from gotham riddler

[trianglegoddess]

Feral McGee™

It starts with the Joker. 

His goons picked up Tim Drake. Not specifically because it was Tim Drake, he just so happened to be in the Joker’s neighborhood, and we'll, he can't pass up that opportunity now can he? 

Except Tim Drake is watching, along with the rest of Gotham, at the Batcomputer. He’s nursing a broken foot and has been put on monitor duty until he's cleared for field work again. 

The guy looks enough like him, though. Black hair, blue eyes, and bags under his eyes for days. He's also got the same lean sort of build like he does. 

It happens like this. 

The Joker is doing his monologue thing where he explains whatever twisted game he's come up with this time. He takes up the majority of the screen, so nobody can see Not-Tim behind him, not until the big reveal. Then he covers the screen again, getting up close and personal, before stepping back. In those quick few seconds, Not-Tim is no longer sitting there tied to the chair. 

Someone off camera lets the Joker know, and he whirls around, confused as the rest of Gotham. 

And then Not-Tim comes in with the steel chair. 

Or, well, a crowbar, but the reference holds up. 

He takes out one of Joker’s knees before punching him in the face. The Joker drops like a bag of stones, out cold. 

Then he looks towards the camera. 

“Hey there. I'm not really sure where I am, but also if he was after Tim Drake, he got the wrong guy. I'm not him, I'm just some dude. Anyway, I'll just-yep-” he carefully steps over the unconscious Joker, gives the camera a little wave, and then leaves. 

Batman and Nightwing enter shortly after, with the Joker and his goons out cold and tied up. The knots were complicated enough where, in the end, the police resorted to cutting the ties off of them so they could be properly cuffed and taken to Arkham. 

“A constrictor knot,” Batman tells Nightwing as they watch the villain be taken away. “Often used by sailors to temporarily tie things together to keep something in a bag, or to hold something to glue it back together.”

“Huh,” Nightwing says, scratching the back of his head. “Go figure.”

—

The next time it happens, it’s the Riddler. 

He’s laughing, giving his riddles to the Bats and recording himself to all of Gotham while his victim, one of the Wayne brats, hangs over a vat of something. From a distance, he looks like Tim Drake, or maybe a lankier Dick Grayson. And he’s not the only victim, they’re all scattered across the city, but he thought an important figure such as a Wayne should be under the Riddler’s direct supervision while he enacts his schemes. 

While the Riddler cackles and plots and waves his cane around, in the background all of Gotham can see the figure escape. Several Gothamites recognize him as the kid from before, who clocked the Joker. They all watch with bated breath as he sort of wiggles his way out of the ropes holding him up. Once he’s free, he climbs the rope and gets himself down safely. 

Gotham holds their breath as the kid casually walks up to the Riddler, who’s mid-rant. He politely taps him on the shoulder, and as the Riddler is turning around, the kid clocks him just as brutally as he had the Joker. He’s down with one punch. 

They think he’s going to say another sort of awkward goodbye, but instead he pats the Riddler down until he finds a piece of paper tucked into the inside pocket of his jacket. 

“Right,” the kid says, looking at the list. There’s a lot more static overlay now, and several wonder if it’s damage to the cameras. “Uh, the Clocktower, the Docks, and-” he squints at the page for a moment-”Mama Nacaroni’s? What the fuck is that? Anyway, uh. See you later, I guess. Oh! And we’re at the Gotham Arena. Have fun with him, I guess.”

The kid tosses the paper off to the side before the camera cuts to black. 

Just like last time, everyone is out cold and tied up. The Riddler himself is sporting a pretty bad shiner, but well deserved nonetheless. 

“Stop it,” Red Hood tells him. Batman just looks at him, and though Hood can’t see the top half of his face, he can tell that his eyebrow is raised. “You know exactly what I mean, B. Put the adoption papers away.”

“Hn.”

—

After that, it sorta becomes a game. The rogues of Gotham are no longer after a Wayne, or after anybody who holds any kind of social status like usual. They’re all going after this one kid, all determined to be the one to hold him. And each one is televised. 

Mr. Freeze freezes him in a block of ice, but due to the cameras glitching out, nobody can really see how he got free. They do, however, see the kid suplex Mr. Freeze. It should seem impossible, given his lanky figure, but he evidently has more muscle than he’s originally let on. 

Two-Face gets a hold of him, using chains and some power-dampening cuffs just on the off-chance that he’s a meta. They all watch as the kid leans down, pulls a bobby pin out of his hair, and picks the locks on his cuffs. One punch, and Two-Face is down. 

Gothamites are going wild for the kid. They’ve dubbed him Feral McGee™ (an online poll, of course), because every time he goes in for the punch he gets this feral look in his eyes. Also, just the fact that he casually goes up to these rogues and takes them out with all the casualness of doing something incredibly mundane? Incredible. The Gothamites are eating it up. However, despite the video evidence, nobody has been able to properly identify the kid. They know he has black hair and bright eyes, but any time he gets near a camera, it’s like there’s this weird, sort of warped quality the camera takes on. It doesn’t usually calm down until the fight is done-as one sided as they usually are-before he awkwardly skedaddles away.  

He gets kidnapped by the Penguin, Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy (though that was more just a friendly chat than anything), Mad Hatter, and the Riddler again. 

And then the Joker escapes. 

It’s no surprise as to who he’s going to go after. 

Due to one too many careless goons, they manage to find their way to the Joker’s hideout pretty quickly. This time, it’s all Bats on deck, and they all hide away in the rafters as Feral McGee™ is hung over a vat of acid. His whole body is tied up, hardly a single inch of exposed skin to be seen except for the neck up. 

They watch the goons, they watch the Joker, and they watch Feral McGee™. 

The Joker is monologuing, practically begging the bats to come find him before the timer runs out. When it does, the kid gets dumped into the vat of acid. 

Despite these stakes, the kid seems to be only mildly annoyed. 

“Fuck this, I have homework I still need to finish,” they hear him say. 

They all watch, amazed and confused, as the kid starts gnawing through the ropes. Human teeth shouldn’t be able to do that so easily, but one bit after the other, and soon enough the kid’s got himself freed enough to just climb up the rest of the rope. When he’s at the top of the crane holding him up, Batman lets down a rope and pulls the kid up and out of danger. 

“Oh, cool, you’re all here,” the kid says casually, as if meeting the entire Bat Clan is just a normal Tuesday. And then he pulls out a notepad and pen and hands it to Red Hood. 

“Can I get an autograph? You’re dope as fuck, dude.”

Red Hood has to look away and hide his face in his arms for a few moments to not give away their location with his laughter before signing. And then, one by one, the others do as well. They pass along the kid’s notebook with shit-eating grins and barely contained snickers despite the fact that the Joker is still right below them. Even Batman signs it, after his children don’t stop hounding him about it. 

In their distraction, they didn’t see the kid sneak away. He’s far away from them now, nearly right over the Joker. Danny waits, though, until the Joker has turned around as the timer almost runs out. They watch as he snickers at Joker’s flabbergasted look. The Joker comically looks back and forth and under objects the kid obviously isn’t under. However, before he can do or say anything else, the kid drops from the rafters and right on top of the Joker. He crumples to the ground, unconscious. The kid, however, just brushes the dust off of himself. Despite the fall he took, there isn’t a scratch on him. 

When the bats join him, they give his notepad back to him, barely able to contain their laughter at the absurdity of it all. The kid, too, joins in the camaraderie, laughing and joking along with them as Batman secures the Joker. 

“Okay, okay, but I gotta ask, dude,” Red Hood says at one point, looking at the kid. “How do you keep getting kidnapped?”

The kid just shrugs. “I get distracted easily. And I’m sleep deprived, so you know. Social awareness is kind of at an all time low right now.”

“Why are you sleep deprived?” Nightwing asks, barely hidden concern in his voice. 

 “Finals are kinda kicking my ass right now. Especially this dumb English homework I have. You guys wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

“Oh, lucky for you,” Red Hood says, wrapping an arm around the kid’s shoulders as he walks them out of the warehouse, “I happen to know a lot about English. So, it is Shakespeare?”

“Yeah, Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

As they walk off, Batman calmly watches, though the rest of the bats can see his jaw twitching. Nightwing comes up behind him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. 

“If you don’t adopt him, I will.”

“Hn.”

[rosemarydisaster]

This post inspired me to think about secret identity logistics and I think Cass being so cavalier with her secret identity would actually help. Like, it makes the rest of the family's secret identities better because Cassandra Cain is obviously Blackbat/Batgirl. By contrast they would look even more civilian and if someone is not going to realize their kid is a vigilante is Brucie Wayne.

"But wouldn't they connect the dots to the rest of the family?" Listen, If those were bats they'd simply get out of the kidnappings and hostage situations they get themselves into like Cassandra. The fact that they always need to be saved proves they're, indeed, civilians.

Also, I doubt the math would math unless you knew very specific internal things to connect each vigilante to their civilian identity. Brucie is, for starters, as civilian as can get and thanks to the Mandela effect everyone is convinced that he was caught on camera making out with Batman anyways. So that's a non-starter.

Dick Grayson is trying to be a regular person, so the public would know he exists and comes back to important things but he's mostly out of the public eye. Plus, he's a police officer, why would anyone assume he's in kahoots with his little sister that was adopted after he'd already left Gotham?? And when he came back to Gotham for a while to take care of things for his father, is not like there was a new vigilante. It was still batman and Robin (the Robin was new, but Dick Grayson is an adult so, not likely).

Then we get to the big one: Jason is legally dead. You can't assign him any vigilante because he's mmm super dead. I'm sure there's a true crime podcaster trying to argue that he was the second robin and died doing robin shit, that's why Batman and Bruce broke up. But even if it's compelling, it's also considered in really bad taste. Also, can't be tied to Cassandra because she arrived after his death.

Tim gets a similar reaction to Brucie in the sense that there's no way he is a vigilante. He's the immunocompromised Twink from Forbes "30 under 30". He's literally physically incapable of being a super hero due to both a lack of Muscles and a lack of time. That boy has to run an entire massive money making machine and, for all gothamites know, he may very well be asthmatic as well. Plus, he gets kidnapped like crazy. If he was a hero he would at least now how to avoid being put in those situations. They suspect he's covering for Cass though, since he's smart enough to realize his sister is freaking Batgirl.

This means that even if Cass is Batgirl they can't really trace Batman, Nightwing, Red Robin or Red hood back to the family (not to speak of Batwoman, Catwoman, Huntress, Batgirl a 1 and 2, Oracle or spoiler). So at this point why would you even try to connect the others? Clearly Cass is the exception, not the rule.

Like, sure, Duke did survive the Riddler ruling Gotham and if you put some effort, it wouldn't be impossible to tie him to the We Are Robin movement. But also ...is it because he's black? Is it because he's the only black person from Gotham you know of?? His sister is a vigilante, and he is black, so he must be the black vigilante of course (He would be the one making this comments in social media through his sock puppet accounts and the True Crime/conspiracy communities would be too scared to touch that one with a ten foot pole)

Damian is another one where I think Bruce would do what he can to protect him from the press (partially for his own good and partially because he's the opposite of media trained). Most of the info the tabloids would get is from people tangentially related to him. Like, sure, he does look a bit like the new robin, and his sister is Batgirl. But, unless you're one of the people claiming he's the lovechild of Bruce Wayne and Batman (test tube baby??? Batman trans???) it wouldn't make a lot of sense now, would it?

Like Cass is so fucking weird compared to the rest of her family's civilian identities it makes them look rock solid by comparison.

[xmalereader]

— Endless Pt. 1 —

Bruce Wayne x Endless! Male Reader

☆ — MASTERLIST — ☆

SUMMARY: The endless family is made up of 7 children, so why is their an 8th? Reader is the black sheep of the family with no purpose to fulfill the human realm. He spends his days locked away in the Dreaming where he stays under his brothers watch. It wasn’t until one of Dreams new nightmares escapes the realm and starts causing problems in the Waking, giving reader a chance to show that he can be helpful in his family by tracking down his brothers nightmare, not knowing what awaits him.

WARNINGS/CONTENT: Angst, slow burn, MDNI 18+, language, endless family, dream trying to be a good brother, mentions of abuse, black sheep, self esteem problems, mentions of death, family secrets, friends to lovers, post riddler chaos, mentions of new villains, foreshadowing, reader and Bruce balancing each other out, Gotham is shit, slight kissing, trauma mentioned, OC nightmare, non-canon works.

WC: 5k

TAGS: @circusdexxter @lordzachariah0-0 @apolo1808 @i-cant-sleep615 @kayden1 @boylicious143 @h-ib @kik1010 @toxic90sboy @multifandomsimp69 @moththesadmage @stalker0

NOTES: Finally! After a very long break I’m finally getting back into writing again! I will mainly be focusing on my series that I’ve been planning for quiet awhile and really want to focus on this Endless series that I’ve had in mind for months. I’ll try my best to update as much as possible since each chapter will be between 5k-8k words or longer in order to have fewer chapters, but other than that, here is the first part and thank you for being patient on my writing!

Blinding - Florence And The Machine

The Endless had 8 children, each with a purpose in life.

Destiny with the purpose of defining all that is, Death was destined to put the universe to rest, Dream with the creation of stories and imagination, Destruction with the power of not only destroying but of making and producing, Desire with the purpose of wanting and lust along with their twin Despair who is the personification of despair and hope, and Delirium who can create realities and manipulate the human mind.

They all had an important purpose.

All but one.

The eighth child was the youngest of them all, having been born eons later after Delirium resulting in the last sibling of the Endless family. His siblings figured that he would have a purpose just like them only to have none. The last sibling wasn’t special nor was he given a proper name that would fit his so called ‘purpose’ instead both Father Time and Mother Night left their last child in the hands of their other children.

He expected his brothers and sisters to help him find a purpose that brought balance to the human realm, but neither sibling was much help. The twins simply teased him, mocking his existence while the others grew to busy in their own duties to give him the attention he needs, a few of his other siblings were busy searching for the ‘Prodigal’ who had left his duty many years ago and was being searched in order to restore balance again.

The youngest Endless could only watch from the sidelines holding onto hope that he too, would have a purpose of his own.

As he was passed around from sibling to sibling he spent most of his time in their realms watching their work and staying in line from overstepping into their duties. He spent most of his time in Dreams realm feeling his heart warm in joy when he walked through his brothers creation. The creation of stories and imagination was a powerful thing for many humans something that his brother found joy in doing.

There were times that he spent his time in his brothers library, hidden behind many rows of books, watching from the corners as his brother speaks with Lucian and Marvin. No matter how long he spends in this dreaming he never had the chance to actually create a bond with his brother, growing afraid each time he approached him when returning a book or when trying to ask a simple question about his creations.

Delirium was technically the baby in the family before he came into the picture and Dream already struggled with creating a bond with his sister and he didn’t want to get in the way of their bond. He spent years without knowing his duty that he’s grown used to being an outsider from his siblings, spending his ‘family’ dinners alone in Dreams realm, trying to stay out of their business as much as possible.

Even if his sister, Death, tired to convince him to join them for dinner he’d refuse and continue on with his day. What was the purpose of him being there? He can’t stand their whispers of pity, so why even bother.

He felt like a burden to his own family, so instead of trying to fit in he’d slowly pushed himself out of the picture and allowing them to have the spotlight while he stood out the frame. There were times that wished to disappear like his brother, Destruction. He didn’t know much about him and the others didn’t talk about him, not because they hated him, but because of the pain it brought them when reminded of their brother leaving without a word, abandoning his duty and hiding from the world.

When wandering around Dreams library he had found a book hidden deep in the shelves that contained a photo of his brother, Destruction. He looked older than the others and with a rugged expression on his face, having facial hair on his face and perhaps a grumpy like exterior. He kept the image of his brother in mind before putting the book back where it belongs in order to keep his brother, Dream from knowing his findings.

“A nightmare has escaped.”

He was doing his usual routine, hiding in the library and nose buried in a book before his ears perk at the sound of the ravens worried tone when landing near Lucians desk and letting her know about the situation.

“Does Lord Morpheus know about this?” Lucian had asked while she looked through the new plans of the realm, showing very little interest towards the situation since she had no control over dreams and nightmares.

The raven, Matthew tilts his head to the side. “He does—“

“Then I don’t see what this has to do with me.”

“It’s that new nightmare.” Said Matthew, voice laced with worry and concern.

His words causes Y/n to look up from his book, eyes widening when hearing Matthew. He knew what nightmare he was referring to and knew how messy the situation can turn out if a nightmare were to abandon its duties. Dream always kept an eye on his dreams and nightmares and had been making changes in his realm, more like improvements. He had been changing his nightmares into dreams and leaving him with time to make new nightmares for the dreamers, having created one that lurks on your deepest fears named Pitch.

Y/n never liked the nightmare when first meeting him, his tall structure and sharp yellow eyes always made him shiver and whenever he was alone the nightmare always found him.

“Pitch is nothing but problems.” Sighed Lucian while removing her glasses.

Matthew lets out a small sound of understanding. “He reminds me of the Corinthian in some way.”

The name was familiar to Y/n, having heard about him and the troubles he’s brought into Dreams realm the nightmare was so bad that Dream had to destroy his creation and store him away. His brother had claimed that he will restore the Corinthian again, one day when he deemed the time right.

Y/n doesn’t stay longer to listen to their conversation and closes his book, leaving it on the table and standing from where he sat. He doesn’t spare the librarian and raven a glance, having grown used to their silent glances when his presence is made known, leaving the library and making his way towards his brothers chambers where he finds him pacing around the room while reading a book in hand. He’s noticed the stack of books scattered on the floor with different names from many dreamers.

He can’t help but raise a brow at his brothers mess, but doesn’t point it out when approaching him.

“I suppose you are busy?”

Dream doesn’t look away from his book and keeps pacing. “I am always busy.” His voice echos back before stopping mid pace to look over to Y/n who stood a good distance from the other Endless. Dream looks at him up and down before asking. “Is there something you need?” He’d usually brush off anyone’s needs and focus on himself, but after his imprisonment of 100 years and spending more time around humans he’s grown to change.

Showing some compassion for once.

The younger endless stares at Dream and then down at the books that surround them both. He wants to jump in and help his brother with finding his missing nightmare to be able to do something for once. “I heard that Pitch left the realm.” He starts, noticing the slight frown appear on his brothers face which makes him bite the inside of his cheek in a nervous manner.

“I can help with finding him?” He finally asks.

Dream shuts his book which causes Y/n to flinch and avoid his brothers eyes, looking away nervously after asking. He would expect his brother to be upset for wanting to step in and provide assistance to his mistake when it was his duty to fix the problem and not Y/n’s.

But his brothers words surprise him. “I’d appreciate the help.”

Y/n’s eyebrows raise in surprise when he’s accepted to help, nodding slowly as he takes a few steps closer and a bit hesitant on what to do. “What are you looking for in these books?” He asks and bends down to pick one up, reading the name of the dreamer before flipping it open and skimming through the pages.

“Pitch lurks on fear. Since I no longer have my ruby, I am unable to find my nightmares and must doing things a bit differently.” Dream being to explain as he walks over to the other side of the room to toss the book he was currently reading on top of another pile. Y/n guessed that it’s the finished books he’s read. “If I wish to find Pitch I have to find out which dreamers are most likely to be targeted by him.”

Y/n looks back at the stack of books with wide eyes. “You’re trying to locate a dreamer who could possibly lure Pitch in?” He says in disbelief and turns back to Dream. “That could take hours or days, all dreamers have nightmares so Pitch could be going after anyone.” He sets the book down and steps back to stare at the different piles, reading off names and trying to figure out his brothers outrageous system of locating his missing nightmare.

Dream lets out a dry chuckle when hearing his little brothers worries and shakes his head. “Then,” he walks over to Y/n and hands him a book. “Lets get started.” The little Endless can only mentally groan as he takes the thick book in hand and watched Dream get back to his own reading.

The room falls into a comfortable silence as the two read for what felt like hours. The sound of flipping pages echoed in the throne room and the placement thud of the book beings piled up as the continued their reading. As much as he enjoyed spending time in his brothers library he was slowly growing tired of reading dreamers lives and how they spent their time in the dreaming realm when sleeping. Even though he doesn’t have a purpose he’s starting to realize that being a Dream lord wouldn’t be for him.

It wasn’t until he breaks out into a yawn that it gets the Dream lords attention, eyes glancing up from his book and towards his brother who was half asleep at this point. Dream sighs through his nose and closed his book, setting it aside from where he sat on the steps. “You're tired, get some sleep.”

Y/n snaps his head up and shakes his head at Dreams words. “I’m fine I can keep going.” He waves him off and tries to concentrate on the book o his lap, but Dream had quickly taken the book from him and closed it. “I can tell when someone doesn’t sleep.” His voice is low as he towers over Y/n who sits on the floor and sighs to himself, rubbing his eyes and nodding his head slowly. “Okay, I’ll get some sleep.” He mumbled in return as he stands from where he sat.

Even though he wanted to help Dream in finding Pitch he’d need to get some rest if he wishes to keep going. When letting Dream know that he will head off to his room and get some proper rest for the night he makes sure to sneak at least one book back to his bedroom in order to keep helping out of his brother sight and not get into any trouble.

He holds the book against his chest when leaving his throne room and down a different hall in his castle. He yawns again when reaching his own bedroom, its big and spacious when entering a few books are on the shelf and small little valuables are sitting near the balcony not having a lot since he spent most of his time in the Dreaming with his brother.

He tossed the book on his bed and falls face first into his pillow, moaning tiredly and closing his eyes for a few seconds, letting his body relax against the soft blankets and pillows. The silence wakes him back up, opening his eyes and glancing over to the book he had snuck into his room.

It was surprisingly thin and the binding is all black, getting his attention as he sits up and turns around to lie on his back. He grabs the book and holds it up, reading the name on the front cover.

“Bruce Wayne…” He whispers the name to himself and flips the cover open, starting at the beginning like every other book he’s read. He knows he’s suppose to be sleeping or else his brother will use his sand on him, but he can’t help but grow eager to continue helping his brother, to be able to do something for once as he reads the book in hand.

He’s nodding off little by little and trying to concentrate on the words on the pages, shaking the sleep away and sighing as he adjusts his sleeping position and groans before flipping to the next page only to freeze, his eyes full of confusion as he sits up, fully awake as he stares down at blank pages. He’s never seen something like this in the books, finding half of the pages blank.

The mans life ends in nightmares, but the blank pages had to mean something. He quickly pulls the blankets back and slips out of bed, rushing out of his room and holding the book in hand as he heads back to his brothers throne room to ask him about the strange book.

“Dream—?”

“Aren’t you suppose to be sleeping?” Dream cuts in and slams his book shut, setting it aside onto a pile. The time that Y/n spent reading had resulted in the shift of books, having less around the throne room since his brother had finished reading a few on his own. Before Y/n can ask about the blank pages in the book his brother had approached him and takes his wrist in hand, dragging him back to his room.

“Wait—!”

“I’ve told you many times that you are to be asleep, unlike me you need the rest since your body isn’t adjusted to the dreaming realm quiet yet.” He began to explain, disregarding Y/n’s protests as he’s dragged back to his room. “But Dream—!?”

“Enough talk.” They make it back to his room where Dream shoves him back into bed and takes the book from his grip, setting it aside and ignoring the title of the book since he was focused on Y/n.

“But the book!” said Y/n as he reached out to grab it only for Dream to push him back into bed.

“You can tell me about it tomorrow, now you sleep.” He doesn’t give Y/n the chance to speak again as he uses his sand on his little brother, watching as he yawns and his eyes slowly flutter closed.

—

Y/n doesn’t dream.

He knows that his own brother does since its apart of him, but Y/n never had dreams or nightmares. He always wondered if it was because he wasn’t an Endless like his siblings with a purpose in the human realm. His siblings had dreams, but never spoke about them. Dream had their books with their dreams and nightmares written locked away from prying hands, he never read their books in order to keep the privacy and respect, never lurking in their dreams to see what they think of when sleeping. He made a rule to never do such thing, but Dream was surprised when his little brothers book wasn’t on the shelf.

He had given it time since he was still young, but after eons, nothing.

That’s why Y/n had woken up without feeling anything, falling asleep in darkness and waking up as if nothing ever happened. He’d stare at the ceiling of his room, quiet and still as he thinks about last nights discoveries. He turns to his left where his brother had left the book. He would have expected Dream to take it back instead of leaving it in his room.

He takes the book into his hands again and reads the name to himself once more. His fingers opening the book as he flips through the empty pages in hopes of finding new words only to find nothing, ending in the same way as last night.

“You can’t be dead.” He says to himself when closing the book, he’s seen how their story is written before death comes for them. It always ends with a dream before their story reaches an end, but Bruce’s didn’t have that and it made him question it.

He holds the book in hand when leaving his room, heading off to see his brother only to find the throne room empty when arriving. The books that were scattered around were gone, leaving the place empty and clean. He decides to check the library, perhaps he could find his brother there if the books were all cleaned up.

Only, he doesn’t find his brother there other than Lucian.

“Lucian, have you seen Dream?” He speaks up softly towards the librarian as she organized a few books and puts them in their designated space in the shelves. She looks up from her work and sighs. “Lord Morpheus had to attend a family dinner.” She responds back which makes Y/n’s heart race at the statement, forgetting that family dinners were every few years.

He was always invited but rarely went since he didn’t want to deal with the usual conversations.

“Found your purpose yet?”

“Still staying with Dream?”

“Why even have another endless when you can’t figure out why you are here.”

The past conversation makes him shudder, hating the feeling of being different.

Lucian can easily see the sadness hidden behind Y/n’s eyes as if showing that he’s fine when deep down inside he was hurting.

“I was curious about something,” He began to say, holding the book under his arm. “have you ever dealt with a dreamers dreams not showing in their books?”

Lucian raises a brow at his question. “Lack of dreams?”

Y/n shakes his head. “More like, disappearing from the human realm when they aren’t really dead?” He winced at his own question, unsure if he was making sense towards the librarian.

“Oh,” Lucian gives him a look of surprise. “Well, we once dealt with a boy who went missing in the dreaming. We couldn’t find him in his books and it looked like he had disappeared from the world.” She explains while shelving books. “Turns out that a nightmare was keeping him hidden, using their power and work to hide the boy from the real world. A way of escaping reality and hiding in the dreaming.”

Y/n takes in her words, glancing down at the book he had. Thinking that perhaps this Bruce is suffering from nightmares, making him easy bait for Pitch. He isn’t sure if he’s right or wrong, but he knows he should let his brother know since its an urgent matter due to pitch leaving his duties and causing a problem to his brother.

“Thank you, Lucian.” He leaves the book on the table and quickly leaves the library. He doesn’t usually attend family dinners, but perhaps this once he can make an appearance only to let Dream know about his discoveries and then leave. His siblings always took turns in hosting dinners, sharing each others realms for a short period of time together.

Last dinner took place in Deaths realm, today it’s Destiny’s.

In order to enter his brothers realm he’d have to ask permission, but since its a family dinner he doesn’t need to ask. He’s only been in Destiny’s realm a few times, liking his garden that he walked through in order to make it to the clear opening where a dining table is set and finds his siblings conversing amongst each other.

He always felt nervous around his other siblings. He’s known them for eons, but he didn’t really know them. He only saw them as his siblings who took care of him when he was a child, but as time went by and he continued to age things had changed between them.

“Look who decided to join us.”

Desires voice floats through the air as he looks over to his sibling, giving them a small nod of acknowledgment. “Desire.”

“Endless.” They said back.

Y/n mentally flinched at the name. He’s Endless, but Endless of what?

“That’s a surprise, you usually don’t come to these dinners.” They continued on, taunting him with a sly grin on their face. “Oh!” They gasp out. “Are you here to tell us that you’ve finally found a purpose or did you just come to ruin the dinner?” They and Despair laugh at their comment which leaves Y/n quiet.

“That’s enough.” Dream cuts in, stopping his siblings mocking. Desire clicks their tongue and rolls their eyes when their fun is ruined.

Dream looks over to Y/n. “Are you here to join us?”

He doesn’t know what to say, his mind feels fuzzy and can hear his heart racing in his ears. His eyes glancing over to the twins who murmured to each other, his eyes then shift over to Death who looks at him with eyes full of pity and concern—he hated that look. His brother Destiny didn’t even look at him and and Delirium was lost in her own world.

It wasn’t until his eyes land on the empty chair across from Dream. He’s confused at first, asking himself why they would have a chair for him. “Oh…”

There was 7 seats, one for each sibling.

The seventh wasn’t for him. It was for his missing brother, Destruction.

He’s now realized had he’s never had a seat amongst them.

“Y/n?”

Dreams voice pulls him out of his thoughts, looking back at his brother and noticed the small hint of concern in his voice.

“Is something wrong?”

Y/n gives his brother a fake smile. “It’s nothing.”

He doesn’t stay much longer and turns his back, leaving his brothers garden and heading back to the Dreaming where he belonged. Did he really belong to the dreaming? Dream was only being a kind brother and letting him stay in his realm until he’s found his purpose but its been eons and he still hasn’t figured out what kind of endless he is. Thinking about it makes him feel like a burden, having bothered his brother for years not asking himself if Dream has perhaps grown tired of having him around.

He found beauty in his brothers work always amazed by his creations and ideas that he can’t help but think that he’s a mistake wandering around his brothers creation.

“You are just Endless.”

Dream of the Endless.

Death of the Endless.

Desire of the Endless.

They all had a name, but him.

“How can I know who I am…” He whispers in the emptiness of his room, staring at the pile of books that he had left forgotten in his room only to remember last nights book.

“Bruce Wayne.”

He may not be someone who can lead him to Pitch, but he could be a start. He’s curious to know why his book ended in blank pages, waiting to be filled with words. Even if he was wrong at least it was an excuse for him to leave the realm to perhaps find himself something out in the Waking.

Y/n had seen the Waking and had very little interactions with mortals, but perhaps he’ll get the chance to know them at a better level. There isn’t much for him to take other than a notebook with notes regarding his brothers dreams and nightmares and his time here in the dreaming. His room never had anything valuable only a simple bed and a few books, nothing else.

He flips the book open and reads his last page.

“Gotham City.”

[spidernuggets]

this is so tropey and cliché yet I cannot help but adore it sooo a calm chill peace n love pacifist type of gal who only uses computer skills/detective skills/whatnot for the titans but never violence. that is until some asshat takes jason hostage and reader to the sheer shock of everyone goes deathstroke level violent, demolishes everything, sneaks out alone to single handedly rescue jason whilst the titans are still tryna figure out a plan, and jason wakes up back in titans tower to find out that it wasn't a team effort to get him back, that reader did it all alone and killed the people who took him, jason is maybe a lil shit and is all thanks but I had the situation under control, and then he asks why she cares so much and she's like I don't but if they killed you I would kill everyone in this room and then myself 😊 👉👈

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Note: I'M SO SORRY IT'S TAKING SO LONG TO GET THIS OUT, BABES!!! I'M IN MY FINAL YEAR OF SCHOOL, AND I HAVE EXAMS LIKE EVERY WEEK REALLY HOPE YOU LIKE THIS CRIES. ALSO, the first part of this fic is kinda based on Jason and Gar's little moment before they go down to the subways.

"What are you doing now, nerd?" Jason walks into the computer room where yoh sat in front of the downgraded version of the Bat Computer. He leans against the edge, budging your leg with his to get your attention.

"That name is hypocritical, theatre nerd," you bite back.

"Holy shit, they're thespians, not theatre nerds."

"Same difference. Anyways, if you must know, Arkham Asylum's system broke down. Dick asked me to help them fix it. It's fine now, but a bunch of crims broke out. Some are back in, but a few handfuls are still out there. No one above Riddler level. We'll be fine," you say, leaning back on the chair, hands resting behind your head.

"Need any help, babe?" He asks.

You'd be a pathological liar if you said all the nicknames he gave you didn't make your face heat up. You always liked Jason. He has the smart potential that everybody else seems to refuse to see. But you appreciate it.

You shrug. "I dunno. You can if you want, I'm just trying to find where these criminals would be next. But it just looks like they're breaking in and stealing shit from wherever. They pick one building and then move on to a whole different area," you frown, unable to find a pattern.

Jason squints at the big screen. "Hey, zoom into that street over there," he points to the corner of the city's map. You furrow your brows, but oblige. "They're not targeting random buildings, sweet thing," he mutters.

"What? What do you mean?"

"Look. See those buildings there? They already have past records of breaking and entering, and robbery. These Arkham crims are targeting untouched places." Jason says, observing the area.

You then go on your own computer, searching the history of crime through Gotham. Sure, the majority of residents were witnesses or victims to these crimes, but there's still places that have been safe for a good while.

"Hey, all these buildings. I know them." He adds. "Bruce enforced higher security. They're aiming for Wayne Enterprise sponsored buildings!"

"How did I miss that?" You whisper to yourself. "Fuck, Jason, your a bloody genius." You missed the whiplash he got, looking at you in awe for such a simple compliment. "Alright, let me just go mark these locations and I'll go and let Dick know."

"Woah, woah," Jason holds your shoulder. "He doesn't need to know. He's already so busy. I'll handle them. You said it yourself, 'we'll be fine'." He says proudly.

You sighed. "Jay, I know you'd be fine. What's not fine is knowing for a fact that you'd show no mercy and probably make all of them bite the curb." You crossed your arms, folding one leg over your other.

"Ugh, c'mon, Y/n. I promise I won't, and I promise I'll be safe. Dick and the other guys need to know that I can do shit on my own!" He starts to beg. You always knew how important Robin is to him. You were actually impressed about how passionate he was to a mask.

You sighed again, staring at the floor while thinking. "Fine. But you need to be wired. At least be in contact with me. The moment you get into trouble, you call me, I'll get the others to help."

"Why don't you just come out with me? I know you git them badass combat skills?" Then, Jason gives you those eyes for when he asks you for something, and shamefully, you always give in. Not this time.

"Jay, you know why. Even just giving someone a oetty slap just doesn't do it for me."

"Yeah, yeah I know. But if you're ready to throw a punch, make sure I'm there to see," Jason winks as he's about to leave to suit up. But you call out to him.

"Jason." He turns. "You don't need to prove yourself to anyone. Not to me at least," you gave him a sympathetic look. Jason just gives a slight nod in return before turning again and leaving to get ready.

"You sent Jason out there?!" Dick storms into your room without knocking.

You were sat on your bed, holding your hands up. "Woah, man, I could've been changing or something," you say nonchalantly. "Jason will be fine, Dick. He is capable enough of defending himself. Besides, I have him wired, so if he needs help, he can contact me." You say, eyes focused on the laptop placed on your legs.

"Okay, genius, then why did Hank inform me just now that Jason's unresponsive and that his tracker has been disconnected!" Dick yells at you. You stop typing.

"I'm sorry," you choke out a sarcastic laugh, getting off your bed, walking out of your room, Dick following suit. "What? It sounds like you're saying someone cut off all connections that Jason has to us," you said, hoping that you heard wrong or that it was some lame, insensitve prank. You walk into the debriefing room, where the other Titans were. And to prove what Dick said was true, the screens showed that there were no signs of Jason, his tracker, or his wire.

"That's exactly what I'm saying." Dick replies sternly. "Jason's gone missing, possibly kidnapped. Why didn't you tell me he was going out?! Why didn't you tell us?"

Hank chimes in. "Yeah, kid. You know how reckless Jason can be-"

You chucked your laptop to the wall, completely smashing it, the screen chipping everywhere, and the keys scattering across the floor. It instantly made the room dead silent.

You stayed silent, too. You said nothing, giving the others no explanation to your sudden, quiet outburst, and headed back to your room.

From behind you can hear Dick sigh, and preoare everyone to find Jason.

You had other plans.

You didn't know where Jason could be. But from the tracker, you can pinpoint his last known location. Not that you told Dick or even Bruce, but you managed to connect your smartwatch to Jason's tracker. No, you are not a stalker... is what you always repeated to yourself. You just wanted to be the first one to always be sure that your spontaneous friend is okay. And look at what good it's doing.

Opening your closet, deep in the back, situated your throwing knives and flame thrower.

"Come to mama," you whispered. Sure, the use of violence is more or less a disturbance to you. But these assholes have your friend hostage. And you know that if you stay with the others, they'd slow you down.

You packed a backpack with everything you think you'd need, and you climbed out your window and ran to where Jason was seen last. You didn't have a hero suit of your own, seeing as you refused to kick ass with the others. Oh, well, you thought. A face mask would do you good.

You ended up in the outskirts of the city. There was no noise, and no Jason. But there was blood. Possibly his.

Unfortunately, there were only splatters and no trails that could guide you.

"Well, aren't you a pretty little thing?" A deeo, raspy voice said behind you.

You turn around and tilted your head. "Hello. I'm lookin' for a friend. About yay high, black domino mask, Christmas coloured superhero suit with an R on the left breast of the chest plate. Goes by the name Robin. You seen him anywhere?" You politely ask.

The gruffy man hummed. "Hmm. Show me what you're made of little lady, and I might spill a secret or two," he disgustingly smirks.

You shrug. "Since you asked so nicely." Swiftly, you threw a knife at him, slicing right through his shoulder as the man howls in agony.

"YOU BITCH," he screams.

You slowly walk up to him, and right as he tries to throw a punch, you dug, slicing his leg with another one of your knives, making him tumble to the concrete.

As he lays on his back, you tower over him, your foot resting on top of the knife that was impaled through his shoulder, making him cry out in pain.

"Now you listen to me, pretty little thing," you smile, mocming him. "After this, you're going to live. Because the sight of a dead body makes me gag. But the catch is," You reach for your flamethrower from your back, pointing it to the man's crotch as he whimpers in fear. "You're gonna be walkin' around with a fried dick. So what's it gonna be? Giving me a location? Or giving yourself a grilled sausage?"

You blink twice before he yells and reveals where Jason is. "Thank you so much, sweetie," you smiled, moving the flamethrower away and your foot lifting off the knife, turning to go find your friend.

He sighs out in relief, but you then turn back around. Saying nothing else, you point the flamethrower at his face, setting it off, letting the flames char his skin.

You hide behind crates in a dimly lit, abandoned warehouse, trying to search for Jason. You then go into a different room, and upon going in, you see a figure tied up in a chair, mouth covered in a dirty rag and a blindfold over his eyes.

My poor- shit. I mean. Poor Jason. You think.

The room was empty. It's an opportunity for you to help him. You cut the ropes, take the rag, and blindfold off.

"Jay?" You whispered. "Jason, wake up, c'mon we gotta go." It was no use.

"So you're the little gal burning up faces," another rough voice says.

You stand up straight, facing the significantly larger man in front of you. "Why does everyone keep calling me that? I'm the average height," you complained, crossing your arms.

The man grunts, snapping his fingers. Then, what seemed to be a whole army of men dressed in black and white striped jumpsuits appeared from every corner, with crooked grins and nasal chuckles.

"Naw, but you'd be cut, chopped, and sliced into little pieces after we're done with you, little thing," he smiles.

"All of you against me?" You pouted. Well, that's just not fair, is it? How about a little disadvantage for you guys." You threw knives in all light sources, smashing the bulbs, now with the only source of ligbt being the moon shining out from a window or two.

You quickly whip out night vision goggles, activating them and your flamethrower ready in your hands.

You start blasting at all the men that attempt (and failed) to attack you, quickly burning their faces, hands, legs, all over their bodies.

All you could hear were the sounds of their writhing pain. You also made sure to stay close to Jason, making sure no one tried to hurt him.

Just as you were about to roast another guy, your flamethrower suddenly ran out of fuel.

"Well, shit," you muttered to yourself. "Old fashioned, it is."

You used the flamethrower itself as a combat weapon, hurling it through their guts and crotches, any of their most vulnerable areas.

The last guy to go down was the supposed leader. You smash the flamethrower into his head, probably leaving a dent, and he falls to the ground. You then take out any knives that remain, stabbing them through bith his shoulders and shins.

You took out your remaining anger and adrenaline out on him by using the flamethrower, striking it against his abdomen.

"Asshole! Perveted! Kidnapping! Ugly! Son! Of! A! Bitch!" You exclaim with every blow.

You pants, looking around the room full of unconscious men. Even the one in the cape.

You lift him up, throwing his arm over your shoulder, beginning to haul him out of the warehouse.

By the time Jason woke uo, his head was spinning, his throat was dry, and his vision was blurry. He sits uo, trying to stay still to focus his vision. He then notices that his shirt is off and his torso is bandaged. There were also many patches all over his face.

He slowly gets uo from bed, wincing at the pain. On his nightstand, he sees a glass of water, pills and a sticky note.

"Take the pill and drink all the water, theatre nerd

- Other Nerd."

Jason couldn't help but smile at the little message and consideration. He did as was told, swallowing the pill and gulping down the water.

Wanting to get into bed, he heard voices coming out of his room. He leans against his dokr, trying to listen.

"Half of those guys are in death threatening condition! The other half have permanently damaged bones! You killed a guy, Y/n! When the fuck do you even kill!" It was Dick. Who seemed pissed. Wait.

Did he just put your name and the word kill in the same sentence?

"What was I meant to do, Dick? Lock them up and wait for them to escape again? You and I both know the justice system is bullshit!" You spit back.

"That doesn't make you the judge of death, Y/n!"

"What-Fucking-Ever! Here's an idea! Maybe if you had just a little faith in Jason, he wouldn't feel the need to go out there! He was just trying to help! You're his older brother. Act like it!" You bite, not wanting to hear another word coming out of Dick's mouth, and stormed into Jason's room.

Too bad you didn't know he was leaning on the other side of the door.

He grunts heavily, and you shove the door against him.

"Shit! Jay, what the hell are you doing out of bed!" You scold him, taking him by the arm and leading him back to bed.

"Hello to you too, nerd," he mumbles, lying back down.

"You just wake up? How you feelin'?" Your hand rests against his face.

"I'm fine. What happened?" He replies groggily.

You sighed, sitting on the floor, resting your chin on the edge of the bed. "You got kidnapped. Your tracker and wire went offline."

"So what were you and Dick arguing about?" His brows knit together.

Your head tilted so that you were leaning on your cheek.

"Just tell me, nerd," he scoffed.

"Went to save you on my own. Killed a guy," you shamefully admitted.

He smiled in disbelief. "I thought I was fuckin' hallucinating. Fuck, wished I was conscious to see you in action. You didn't even need to get me, nerd. I had everything under control." He scoffs at the end.

"Mm.. Okay, Mr. black eye and stabbed stomach," you reply tiredly, while poking his nose.

Jason sighs and stares at the ceiling. "Thanks." He mutters.You smile.

"Hm? What was that?" You tease.

"I'm not saying it again. You know what I said."

"Yeah, yeah. I know." You admire the side of his face.

"Why? Why go through all that, Y/n? You haven't even punched a person in who knows how long. And suddenly you put people in the hospital and kill someone? I don't understand," Jason suddenly says, turning to face you.

You look back at him. "They took you."

He shook his head, unsatisfied. "No. That's bullshit. Gar and Conner got kidnapped once. You didn't kill people then."

You looked away. "They aren't you." You mumble.

"So what? What the hell's so special about me, Y/n? Why do you care so much?" Jason was confused. He wanted answers as to why someone could care so much for him. He wanted to know why someone who doesn't believe in violence would kill for him when even his own family couldn't.

"I don't," you tried to excuse yourself. "But if they killed you, I would've killed everyone, and the Titans, and then myself," you casually say, still avoiding his gaze.

Jason couldn't help but snicker. "Sounds very caring to me, nerd," he lowly says.

You hum. "Mm, whatever."

He then dramatically sighs. "You know what, sweetheart. It's pretty cold up here. And I assume the floor isn't as comfortable as the bed," there's a look of both want and need in his eyes.

You smile. "What? Wamt a blankie?" You teased.

"Fuck, just come up here," he scoffed, rolling his eyes.

You said nothing else. Just quickly obliged, going around to the other side of the bed, lying beside him.

"You're too far," he complains.

"I'm gonna mess up your bandages," you pout.

"You're so stubborn," Jason says, using his gokd arm to pull you closer, making your head lay on his chest.

"You're one to talk," you snap, though nestling your head into his warmth.

He just hums in response, letting his lips linger on the crown of your head.

I'M SORRY AGAIN, ANON. this is probably lame... and I didn't know how to end it

cries 🥲

[batmanfruitloops]

Hi- I'm addicted to Arkham and how it works-

I'm curious about two things-

How long everyone's imprisonment is supposed to be for their crimes and how their relationship to the doctors/Jeremiah Arkham or Hugo Strange is :3

Have a good day!!!

The length of their imprisonment is actually a bit tricky to answer, but I'll do my best:

As we've stated, a big part of the main au is that Batman and the Joker don't intend to send anybody to Arkham. For those who need help, they need a better facility for that, and for the criminals, there's should be a better jailing and charging procedure.

So, the only way the rogues would end up in Arkham is if it happened before Batman and the Joker could stop it. In this case, the alternate timeline starts with Scarecrow and the Riddler being taken into custody by Batman and the Joker. Usually, Batman and the Joker wouldn't actually hand over the rogues (again, ones that have any saving graces). They always let them get away. But for whatever reason, they do get handed over to Gordon because another crime is taking place that they cannot ignore. Gordon does his best to stall for Batman, but the rest of the force comes to the conclusion that they need to be sent to Arkham. Jo and Ed were uncomfortable, yes, but Batman had made it clear that they wouldn't end up in Arkham. He wouldn't let it happen. But Batman and the Joker continue to be kept busy. And soon enough, Jo and Ed are being driven to Arkham. It sinks in:

Batman and the Joker aren't coming for them, are they?

I don't know much about how one decides how much time someone needs in a facility, but I'd assume they'd (supposedly) get treatment for their "mental ailments" before being charged for their crimes? That said, this alternate timeline probably only takes place over a 3 to 6 months. So the length of their imprisonment should probably be longer if it finished, but it doesn't. Bruce and John are stressing over their stay in Arkham becoming longer and longer. Bruce doesn't want to have become a liar, but he also feels the need to prioritize what else is happening in Gotham. They're in Arkham, it's not like they're going to go anywhere.....

As for their relationship with the doctors, we don't currently have a Jerimiah Arkham (Although we might later if we learn more about him and feel inspired) and Hugo, well...he's not exactly a patient favorite.

Hugo enjoys tearing people's psyches apart and leaving them a shell of themselves. The more strong-minded/determined/resistant someone is, the more he enjoys his work. He is also not above physical violence, and is very unphased by gore and viscera. He's the type of person who'd cut himself open just to see the bodily layers functioning. Nobody knows anything about him before being a doctor at Arkham either; something that Ed desperately tries to find out to gain leverage on Hugo.

Lyle Bolton (no current design, but he is present) may not be a doctor, but he's also important in this timeline. He also enjoys harassing the rogues, especially someone like Ed who can't hide his pain well or dissociate. Again, Hugo doesn't care what he does so long as they aren't dead in the end.

To be a bit more specific about how each of the rogues react to their treatment in Arkham:

Jo - he's been through a lot of pain and needing to put on a face. He doesn't get put in solitary until Hugo is able to push him past his limits, and the easiest way to do that is to go through Ed. Then Jo and Hugo are basically in a battle for control/sanity. Jo refuses to break, and Hugo refuses to give up on him. Other staff might be terrified of how feral Jo becomes, but not Hugo. Jo's only motivation is hearing the updates Hugo's taunts him with about Ed.

Ed - he's absolutely terrified about being in Arkham. It's not clean, it's not safe, there's no escape, and it's terrifying. Jo was his anchor until they're separated and Ed does his best to figure out Jo's condition and how to get out. Usually he could deflect fights away from himself by his use of words, but deflection doesn't work on Lyle or Hugo, so that's devastating.

Jervis - though he doesn't get put in Arkham until later, he and Ed become friends quickly, giving them both some much needed company. Jervis also tries to defend Ed like Jo did, but it becomes harder once he's put into a straight jacket for "insanity and potential of harm to others and oneself" and his maladaptive daydreams are much more pleasant than where he really is.

Harvey - I don't believe we've mentioned him ending up in Arkham in this timeline along with the dorks, but he does. Based on the main timeline of events, he'd have been put in there first, actually. Harvey does his best to stay in his right state of mind, logical and just. He protects any inmates he deems innocent, and attacks those he deems bad. Hugo took away his lucky coin though, so he can get stuck when deciding whether or not to act on his impulses.

- Sarsee

a bit less important, but in the Arkham timeline, Waller reaches out to Hugo for help figuring out how to exploit a certain rogues powers, only for said powers to be ruined in the process...I wonder who it could be? :)

(I started getting a bad headache finishing this post, so I apologize if some written parts make more sense than others - I can try to explain anything confusing in the comments)

[ragnarokhound]

for the au ask game—dimension or time travel au? 👀

For the AU ask game!

Ohhh this kind of au is always so fun because there's literally infinite directions to take this OwO the question for me becomes what would be the most fun/interesting time or sideways universe to send them (and if only one goes back in time, or both of them 👀) or what alternate reality would it be the most galvanizing for them to see... 👀

Oh. I know. I'm still in my cups over saltwateroracle AKA @n1ightw1ng's Arkham Knight Jason dimension hopping au so...

Five fun facts from a dimension hopping au I'd write:

Your choice of comics verse Jason and Tim who don't get along, enemies to coworkers style. But ala The Long Way Home (excellent fic btw everyone who cares about Jason and Tim's relationship whether romantic or platonic please go read it) they get warped together to Arkhamverse and don't realize it. At first.

Separately, they meet their arkhamverse counterparts. Jason nearly get blown up by Arkham Knight Jason, Tim has no idea what to make of his double being married? To? Babs? They meet back up and go 'you thought YOUR double was weird'

'you thought your double was weird, wait til you get a load of fucking BRUCE.' 'Is the batmobile? A tank??' Jason gets very sus of the 'suppressive rounds' Arkham Bruce fires at the mercenaries. Tim gets very sus of the whole ass people he's got stashed away at the batcave lmao

Arkham Bruce is running on such severely fucked up fumes that it makes them actively miss their own Bruce back home. They help him with rounding up Riddler and Scarecrow and with handling the thorny Arkham Knight problem, but absolutely are going to get betrayed 'for their own good' (or because Bruce doesn't trust them) eventually. So they find themselves leaning more and more on each other as the only familiar and trustworthy face in this fucked up dark clown maze version of Gotham

Things end better because of their influence than in the game (something something cure for jokerism something something Arkham Knight Jason gets catharsis/reconciliation and a shock blanket and some soup) and they get themselves home ASAP and everything 100% goes back to normal and they definitely will not be talking about how Tim totally kissed Jason when they thought they were going to die at the end there, nuh uh, no way, Tim has very important debriefings to write byyyye--

(Bonus fun fact: Bruce is very confused but ultimately accepts the out-of-the-blue check ins/hugs he receives from Tim and Jason with aplomb. He reads Tim's report and goes 'Ah. Yes, dimension hopping will do that to a motherfucker'. He can't follow-up with either of them though, for some reason they've both gone dark for a week. Together. At the same safehouse. Hm. Better to leave that one alone, he thinks.)

[lonleydweller]

Yandere prompt 30 for Arkham Knight Riddler, please?

🥀Yandere Arkham Knight Riddler + prompt 30🥀

!Warnings!: yandere trope, violence, kidnapping, threats of violence, blackmailing

Yanderes are OK in fiction. They should stay fiction. They are not example of healthy relationships. These behaviors are NOT okay in real life. This is for entertainment purposes

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

Your body trembles as you clamor to your feet. Letting out a shakey breath as your eyes are assaulted with bright green neon paint, blaring neon green lights, and ramblings that cover the grimey metal walls. The question mark buttons out of your reach that taunt you. The floor comprised of odd looking tiles. The faint crackle of electricity running through the room. This wasn't your first time being a rat in one of his mazes. In fact he seemed to just absolutely love putting you in them.

He loved taunting and cooing at you while you scrambled for your freedom. Spouting his delusions of "love" at you. Knowing you didn't have any choice to listen to his voice blare over the speakers. He always had some trick up his sleeve. A button in a hidden spot, a lever just out of reach, a timer, or a riddle to solve. You'd always loose by a meere second, a hair, a technicality. He'd gloat as if he won. Until batman would show of course.

For a moment you think maybe this was a dream. After all there was more than a minute of silence without his voice tormenting you. Maybe this wasn't real. Maybe you wouldn't have to fear for your safety. You almost jump out of your skin when the projection of him flickers onto the wall. A smug greeting.

"Look who's finally awake! Welcome back once more my dear."

You can only grimace. Not wanting to reply to his banter. You've learned that no amount of swears, pleads, cries, and screams would make him budge.

"Let's just get this over with. You want me to complete some stupid puzzle before s timer runs out right? Want me to anwser a riddle? Just like the other ones? Right?"

You question. Hoping maybe you could speed this grueling game up. An important part of that would be getting him to talk the least amount possible. He tries to talk once more, but you cut him off. Practically pleading.

"We've done this enough times. I'm not stupid. Please. Let's just get on with it. Enough with the theatrics."

He stays silent for a moment. Before recovering from your blunt response. Talking over you before you can shut him down again. Clearly a bit annoyed by the cut off.

"Well if you would let me speak, you'd see this little game I've set up is quite different than the previous ones I've challenged you with dear! After all I'd hate for these to be too easy for you. I mean, where's the fun in that?"

Your brow furrows. This wasn't good. It seems your flimsy plan wasn't going to hold up. He'd already thrown so many different mechanisms your way. What else could he possibly have? What other headache inducing thing would you have to remember? His obnoxious giggle echoes as he boasts.

"I've added something a new! A new risk. I've upped the stakes, so to speak!... something you can't ignore. Nor brush off this time like it's nothing."

The feed switches to with an audible noise, from Edwards disgusting face to a person tied in to a chair, wiring hooked up to it. A wave of nausea hits you, your body shudders, your blood runs cold. You feel frozen, like your feet are stuck in concrete.

It was your friend. Your dear friend who's comforted you through all of this, stuck by your side, and pushed gotham authorities to do more, they even let you stay at their place when your's was no longer safe.

This had to be a joke. This had to be fake. Maybe it was just someone that looked like them? He wouldn't go this far would he? He had to be just bluffing right?

"This has to be a joke..."

You say out loud in disbelief. Tears pooling down your face, dripping onto the metal tiles at your feet. The muffled cries of your friend echo throughout the room.

"Oh I assure you, this is no joke my dear. What you see is most certainly real. I've gotten this.. cretin you refer to as a friend hooked up to a series of wires ready to deliver more than enough electricity to fire their tiny brain."

You sputter out more words in a desperate plea, hoping maybe this was just one big trick.

"No.. no.. you can't be serious right? Y-you wouldn't actually do this.. y-you wouldn't go this far all over me.. You're bluffing, you have to be, please."

His smile drops, he looks almost offended. He let's out a strained chuckle. Speaking through gritted teeth, his voice shaking a bit.

"I don't think you quite understand just how far I'd go to have you."

And with that deadly declaration of devotion, the timer starts ticking down.

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

[5-7-9]

I have to talk about this again, the only time Duke has ever been shown to be a guy to repress his emotions was when this anti-woke anti-SJW comic decided to make Riko a “dragon lady” villain trope

See, I just read an amazing Duke centric meta (as in commentary writing, not powers) fanfic, so this is important to note.

The reason why I’m so adament about Duke being the most honest person you could ever talk to, is because of a concept about “unheard voices.” An experience many marginalized people get, when you’re in a crowd trying to say something different, the majority will be louder.

Or when it gets taken from you by force.

Or when it gets taken from you by force. Even when you try to admit a crime to the feds to gain back the reputation the very same cops stole, to clear your name, they’d never let you.

(By they, i meant the writers, please don’t blame the court of owls for being a shitty offensive plot device). When it comes down to how Duke first appeared in Year Zero, Batman wasn’t in commission for so long, Duke was gonna take up a challenge against Riddler. He wasn’t a genius then, but after being put into such circumstances, he had to actually get smart or else. It was certainly a choice to keep doing that, but he was forced to at the beginning.

Being dishonest and repressive would remove that aspect of being talked over by others, because if he never talks, then we can’t blame others. The fault is put on him. It would be Duke’s fault for not asking for help. It stops being a story about being ripped of agency because of Gotham city making choices for its residents, and starts being about Duke’s turmoil.

Not that we can’t do both, but that’s exactly the issue, the comic doesn’t want to do both. Whether or not it held some amount of sympathy for Riko, it utilizes a rightwing talking point that makes marginalized voices seem extreme to the point of satire, usually to dismay what marginalized people are actually saying.

This is reminiscent of when minorities finally get some ground to stand on, to be heard, and become sellouts when they collab with and endorse other majorities. Which, is true, honestly. Which is unfortunate because Riko is meant to be the enemy in here. There could be a sympathetic side here, of saving Riko from herself, if Duke got another run. But what is there to save Riko from? She’s right.

Duke doesn’t ask for help because he’s repressed, that’s not it at all. But it is true that Duke doesn’t like asking for help. Things like not having anyone to help, like in Year Zero. Or the police trying to track down his parents, look how “trusting” the cops could be.. Or when Thompkins and Darryl were too busy to do enough (yeah and then the betrayal from Darryl didn’t help).

The second time Duke is shown to repress his emotions was when Outsiders decided to pick up after that SAME anti-SJW comic!!!!! OMG!!!!

I don’t entirely believe this, or I don’t entirely want to continue watching Duke regress his character arc

Duke is a team player, just exclusively with those he trusts. He has asked for helped before. This is the biggest problem with ignoring We Are Robin… because it always goes back to We Are Robin 😅 His first team.

[gamertales]

Gotham, July 30th, 2024.

Hey, over here. Youre that blogger lady, right? Looking for info on the supposed ring of collectors of objects belonging to the Bat clan? We talked...well texted a bunch recently about the market.

Hah. Well i cant speak to this supposed ring, but i can show you my own personal collection. Sure its secured, i get a lot of people sniffing around so i try to keep it locked up, but im not stupid. No point tryin to hide from the Bats or what have you, this is just for the schmucks and their bosses. Hah.

Alright, if you follow me into my van.

Oh, yeah, i get that a lot. But look, im 52, i havent got the energy to flirt with 40 year old tired house moms. Kidnapping sounds like a lot of work.

Bit of a shocker compared to the outside, huh? Yeah, I had the interior and body upgraded a few years ago, added comfort and protection,still kept the rough looking exterior tho, keeps attention down.

Yep. Glass repair, window replacement, skylights. Heh. Youd be surprised to know how many small contractors making a living cleaning up qfter the Bat clan. Lotta companies downtown cant get insurance for windows, doors, ventilation systems. Gives us smaller guys a little more space to play.

After that throw down between Nightwing and Riddlers goons across from the Bank of Gotham last week, i managed to get in quick, and lock down the window contract.

This parts important, first crew on the scene gets to move in after the cops move out. Now Gothams finest do their best, but the number of small things they miss...

Take this for example, its a section of Nightwings glove with those fancy little spike things on them. Found it in the rubble under the skylight. Along with some mooks hand. Turned the hand in of course.

What? Oh its an informal alliance, but we keep each other in the loop, and let each other know when shits going down near em. If I cant make it across town, i'll send a text to the crews closest.

The goggles? Harley quinn dropped them a couple years ago, found them in the bushes outside the Exchange. Thats not the prize piece.

This. Two Batarangs from the Bat himself. To be fair i didnt really have to go far to find them. Summer of '19 the big guy landed on my roof. Hard. Dropped, rolled, and started running down the alleyway. Now i was dozing at the time, and that startled the literal shit out me. Cue the clown goons jumping on my truck to give chase. Big threw four of these beauties, making them scatter, and doing more damage to the van.

Four batarangs tho? I sold 2 of them to my buyer in the city. A collector of this stuff. He calls it "pretentious peacocking for poorly adjusted prats." Yeah, Mr Wayne is different enough. Only met him the one time, but he was very affable, even hired me to do the new windows for his guest house.

Made enough to upgrade ole Greaser here to their current condition. And a little.

Other than Mr Wayne? Im afraid i only deal with Mr Wayne; he pays fair, promptly, and usually sends a gift basket. No, i go thru his Butler now.

Right? A Butler. In 2024. Still, he seems harmless enough, spends all his time at charities i hear.

The Ring again? Look, im serious i have nothing to do with that side of the market.

...if you are really determined tho, contact Marc Belvedere, if anyone i know knows about this, itll be Marc.

Listen, i have toinstall some skylights at the City Hall in an hour, so i gotta get moving. Yeah, tell your friends Karl Aleksev is The Window guy when in a pinch.

By the way, what was your name again? Barbara Gordon? Like the Gordon Gordon? Your his daughter? Well, good luck, and be careful, theres a lot of money in this business, and money gets people killed.

Yeah. I guess you didnt really need that advice, huh.

Maybe we will cross paths again.

[just-an-enby-lemon]

The Arkham Games tell a different story for all characthers and for Riddler is about decay.

One thing that is often lost in the middle of the memes is that Arkham Riddler isn't a natural born ratman. He is vain. He is as vain as most Riddlers before him and this is a lot (vanity is a trait that almost all iterations of Edward share). His vanity is in a sense part of his narrative how a man who usually gives a lot of importance to his appareance becames so taken by his declining mental health, trauma and delusion that he stops caring for annything else, someone who used to have an hours long skin care rotine (have you seen his skin in Assault on Arkham? And his hair? He is in jail and is still thriving) stops bottering to the point he isn't even showering annymore, someone who used to pay atention to the minimal details of his suits is using an uggly shirt he never washed ever.

But the thing is this is still the most talked about aspect of his decay.

What people don't talk a lot about is his crimes and how they show how much he is losing it. In Orings his plan while motivated by the selfish reason of he wanting to saciate his boredom is mostly about helping people. He does try to invade the batcave to uncover Batman's true identity but even that is mostly just to saciate his curiosity and prove his genius, he doesn't intend to do annything with it. Besides that his plan is to use blackmail to detter the corruption going on in Gotham.

That being said in all the other games he doesn't have good intentions anymore, he is only motivated by his delusional need to prove himself not only that but his crimes are way more brutal: he goes from blackmailing corrupt people to kiddnaping and murdering a bunch of innocents with death traps and even treatening someone who he appeared to have a previous good relationship with (Selina) with full intention to murder her. And the significant change between this two phases is Arkham. Is impossible to deny that instead of rehabilitation Arkham activaly turned Edward into a worse person. He isn't only less sane than when he entered he is also way more dangerous. Arkham and Batman and the whole system failed Edward in all possible ways in all moments. From his father abuse to the school system neglect to the GCPD corruption to Arkham ineficience. It's not to say he isn't responsable for his actions (though like he isn't at least legally he may object but he is not sane enough for that, he might have been in Origins, but afterwards he was planning on puting lasers on dogs and made a car track that can only have been inspired by the hot wheels toys, he is one of the more insane people there, not only that but he describes having PTSD flashbacks, has at least one dissociative episode, contantly talks to himself, calls Batman dad and the whole not bothering to shower just to list some moments of his mental health being garbage) but that he would never had became The Riddler if the system didn't keept failing him again and again.

If you lock Riddler up before curing the Joker virus the Joker halucianation will ironise: "good one Batman, Eddie doesn't need psychological help, beat him up, lock him up, it's all the medicine he needs" and while a lot of people chug it to Bruce's own guilty complex I think it's both Bruce is feeling guilty because does he even feel anything else at this point but this time his guilt is right. He isn't helping the city in cases like Riddler. He is just doing the crime fighting equivalent of brushing it under the rug.

The Arkham Games are about a lot of things but mostly about how Arkham just doesn't work and it's totally broken and Eddie is the perfect example of it.

[plush-rabbit]

Dating Headcanons - The Riddler

Request: OH MY GOD YES PLEASE GIRL I REALLY WANNA SEE UR TAKE ON THE RIDDLER AKA THE BABYGIRL ILL GET ON MY HANDS AND KNEES FOR U TO MAKE HEADCANONS FOR THAT LITTLE FREAK 

TW: Abusive relationships

A/N: I did not rewatch the movie, so this is purely gonna be in vibes and this one batman/riddler fic i read (i feel like it switches a bit in pov but i hope that isn’t too much of a bother!!)

SFW:

Edward is a sweet guy. A bit odd, but sweet- you think to yourself that there’s no real harm in being nice to him. It’s Gotham- people are already on edge and just kind of horrible to one another, and you, being as naïve and hopeful for the best, think that being nice to people is something that won’t do any harm. Especially to some dorky guy who comes in and orders pie at the restaurant that you work in. He tips well, and he isn’t rude to you, nor does he make any type of pass. No harm done in being nice. But then he gets touchy and it feels off. He lets his hand linger on yours for a bit longer than normal, and tries to make conversation that ultimately falls flat. He’s awkward and nervous, and saying yes to a date can’t lead to anything bad because it’s him, your loyal customer who leaves generous tips. 

It’s surprising when you find yourself actually dating the lonesome man. The date was sweet- generic, but sweet nonetheless. He was a gentleman all throughout it, taking the subway with you to drop you off at your apartment, kissing your cheek and walking away without a fuss. He doesn’t want to impose himself on you- and now he knows where you live. Purely for innocent reasons of course! He’s clingy. He hadn’t realized just how starved for human connection he was until he met you. It’s as if he can’t get enough of you, latching onto you like a stray cat, always curling against you, never wanting you to rise even if you have to do something important. He loves to hold your hand, to turn it over and trace the lines on your palm, to compare hand sizes, and watch as you interlace your hand with his. Long when you’ve fallen asleep and his hand has grown clammy in yours, he still traces over the lines and kisses every inch of skin from the tips of your fingers down to your wrist. His hands ghost over your body, feeling your pulse thump under his finger, and trace up to your shoulder and to the soft part of your neck and hold his hand around your neck.

Finally, he’s allowed to be himself around you. He’s allowed to be needy and whiny, and that he is. He complains so much, and like the good partner you are, you listen, because you’ve seen him get angry before, and it’s someone you don’t recognize. It’s the little things about him that make him, him. He gets cold easily- from the tip of his nose that turns red and cheeks that soon match, to his hands that can hardly grasp onto anything. It’s during the cold nights at Gotham, where his shabby apartment has lost its heating again, that he remembers he has you. He’ll swallow his pride and take a late train, and stand outside your door, his knuckles red and feeling far more painful with the soft knocking than they should have when you open the door. You usher him in, and warm his hands slowly, and he says nothing during this time, watching you warm his hands with your own, or blowing warm breath against him, and he takes that moment to kiss you, and you yelp because of course, he’s still cold, but when he pulls away, you hold his face with your hands, and deepen the kiss. 

There weren’t many warning signs that he was a possessive man, much less an obsessive man. Perhaps what should have tipped you off was the fact that he always broke something whenever you tried to leave during an argument. He asks you about work- if there’s anyone he should be worried about, and you say no. It gets harder and harder to leave his apartment, it takes at least an hour of convincing him that you’ll call him once you get home. It takes longer to convince him that he’s the only one for you. You have to kiss him, hold him, worship the ground that he walks on, lest he gets upset. He complains so much, and like the good partner you are, you listen, because you’ve seen him get angry before, and it’s someone you don’t recognize. He starts with little things- breaking into your home, stealing a few items, pocketing a few of your underwear into his jacket pocket, going through every inch of your drawers to find something, anything really. 

Being comfortable in a relationship isn’t something Edward ever thought he could attain. He’s been so preoccupied with other things, that he has grown accustomed to you, he found himself to be far more fond of you than he could have ever imagined. But he still has things to do, and you’ve been getting in the way lately. You pester him about dates, and how he doesn’t spend enough time with you, and he’s been so patient with you. He’s taken you out to eat, he’s listened to you whine about your day- he’s been a good partner. Yet, you’ve still found a way to become more of a nuisance to him, and it would only be fair for him to complain, to bitch and moan like you have. But when he complains about the rich, about children dying in cold, about how people should pay for their wealth in blood, and how he hates that you still try to act like some respectable person when you’re nothing but a waiter, suddenly he’s gone too far. He throws a tantrum when you tell him you want to leave- it doesn’t matter if it’s the location or the relationship, you want to leave him. He smashes your things and calls you awful names until you’re back in a corner and he's holding something heavy, and when you start to cry, he cries harder. He gets on his knees and cries into your stomach, apologizing and telling you never again-just that he’s so stressed, but he cares for you so much that he doesn’t know what he would do if you left him.

NSFW:

Being a virgin isn’t something that he’s proud to admit. Anything close to being sexual makes him anxious- he isn’t sure how to tell you that he’s inexperienced. He’s been close with you, kissed you desperately, teeth clashing and hands scratching at your skin, desperately wanting to touch at your breasts and beneath your underwear. Of course, he’s touched himself, much more than usual now that you’re around, but it doesn't replace human contact- actually being intimate with another person, and knowing what you’re doing. He’s awkward, fumbling around and biting at your skin hard enough to leave his mark. The most Edward has ever gotten with you is going into your room when you aren’t home, careful to not leave a trace of himself anywhere, and sneak into your room and pull out a pair of dirty underwear that still reeks of you. He’s hidden in your closet and watched you undress yourself, watched how you let your hands roam your body and breathe heavily into the air. It’s unnerving how you don’t check in any nooks or crannies, but a blessing for him. He’ll enter your home and rub himself over your items, jerking himself onto your clean clothing, defiling every inch of your home in him, leaving everything in its place and when he gets home with you, he buries your face into a pillow that he’s already used.

He hates how clingy he is with you. It’s pathetic. He’s on top of you rubbing himself over, he’s not even kissing you anymore, he’s just rubbing himself over you. It’s desperate and gross, his mouth wetting at your neck to suck a bruise over your skin, hands pinching and clawing at your belly, giving harsher thrusts when you whine. His hands are over your breasts, pinching at your nipples and twisting them harshly to hear you whine all over again, to hear you curse and squirm underneath him. It’s uncomfortable in the room- too hot, too small, too tense for him to do anything other than rub himself over you. He absolutely loves fucking you. He loves to just hold your body close and leave a trail of wet kisses over your body. He wants to feel you, needs to be buried deep in you and stay there, have you warm his cock and take in the feeling that you’d let someone so vile and righteous to taint your body. Sometimes, he wishes that he could tie you up and leave you in his bedroom, and visit when he feels the world is a bit too much.

Looking at your sex is difficult, it’s just far too much. How you throb, glisten and drool with arousal- all for him- makes his head dizzy. He’s allowed to touch you, and he does so roughly, and poorly. He can make a bomb from scraps, but pleasing you is far too advanced for him, he licks broad strokes, and lets his spit coat all of you in some sort of primal way. He’s obsessed with your scent, pulling you close to him and shame has already left his body when he takes his time inhaling you, leaving his spit coat your sex and biting at the inside of your thighs, at the space too close to where your sex lies. Evidently, he prefers for you to pleasure him, to wrap your lips around his cockhead, and lap at his semen. It does something to him, to see you on your knees before him, spit and arousal coating your chin and mouth in a glistening veil, moaning and grabbing onto his soft thighs with your nails marking him in red crescents. You’re just so pretty when you’re on your knees, he can’t help but want to thrust into you, to hear you choke around him, to finish deep down your throat and hear you sputter out a cough when he’s finally released you. 

It’s no surprise that he’s rough. It isn’t so much that he’s trying to be mean, he just can’t help it. He’s watched you at work. Of course, you have to make ends meet, so he doesn’t blame you when you lean over to pick up something on the floor, or let men touch your thigh and curve their hand inside, he has to bear it until he can get them alone. He’s not a mindless killer, but he is possessive, and there’s fear in him that you’d leave him for the next best thing, for someone to sweep you off your feet and provide for you. It’s after those thrills of kills, that he’s rough, pounding into you without any regard, clawing and biting at your skin, desperate to hear you cry his name and see tears in your eyes. He needs to be rough with you, so when you go to work the next day, you have to wear something underneath your work shirt to hide all the love bites. He wants it so you can’t look at your body without thinking of him. 

Of course, he cares for you, he cherishes you so much, he loves you so much. But he's negligent and selfish in bed. Maybe it’s because it’s his first time and he’s so scared that you’d leave him that he’s trying to create all good memories for him, how you beg for him to cum, how you whine and roll your hips when he stops. How you slap his chest and  lock your legs around him, pleasuring yourself when it’s clear that he’s just treating you like a sex doll. Edward can be so kind, but being deprived of any human touch has tarnished him. It’s made him selfish, seeking out his own pleasure, riding his second wave when you’ve only reached your first. When he rolls over beside you, spent and exhausted, but cock still up and red tipped, he has you ride him, hungry to feel you twitch around him. He wants nothing more than to fuck you, for you to fuck him.

[ednito]

pleasepleasePLEASE tell me about your riddler?? the religion stuff has piqued my interest and i gotta know-

Hell yeah I'll tell you about my riddler!! I'd love to talk about him!!!

Tw: religious themes, suicide, abuse, gore, sexual themes, and some others that again I'm blanking on so read with caution! And again I'm posting this on mobile so I don't know how to put the keep reading thing on LMAO

SO, before forming Quandarism and becoming the riddler and things like that Ed grew up in a very abusive household, most of the abuse coming from his father, physical and mental abuse as well as neglect. His dad was well known in the small town he lived in and was apart of the small church that was formed there too, though his father was also a raging alcoholic and again raged on Edward and his mother. Ed's mother on the other hand was a sickly woman, a stay at home wife who loved her son to an unhealthy degree. She'd depend on him for love and attention that her husband would give her, venting her frustrations on him, trauma dumping, ect, but she genuinely loved Edward with all her being as conflicting as it was, she'd often take the abuse for him. Edward on the other hand worshiped his mother, he loved her so so much- he's never loved a person as much as her.

In school he was of course the smartest kid there, graduating earlier then others, but surprisingly he wasn't bullied for being so smart! He was actually pretty respected by his peers because of his fathers status but around high school he slowly lost some respect as he started questioning his belief in God and he was also starting to act out because of the abuse and trauma he's gained. After failing an important test though things started falling downhill, his father was caught cheating with multiple women and after hearing this his mother was in hysterics. Eventually one night when his father was gone she tried to convince Ed to come with her so they could both kill themselves, ed being half asleep brushed her off and in the next morning he found her dead.

After that things were never the same, once he graduated from high school he was given a bunch of offers from many colleges, most he was disinterested in but one he liked was Gotham university, he didn't grow up in the east coast so he was perfectly happy with this, but his father grew angry at this decision as he wanted ed to follow his family traditions and wanted him to work with him and in the heat of their argument ed broke one of the wooden chairs and beat his father to death with the leg of the chair. At this point most if not all the town has lost respect for their family so he knew no one would care if his father died, he took his time cleaning and getting rid if the body as he waited for university to roll around.

Once in university he was doing pretty good actually, he started getting therapy and was doing extremely well in school. At that time he was going through a existential crisis about himself as a person and things like that. He them formed a club that would be the beta version of Quandarism. Ed was studying a lot of things in university, psychology being one of them- he learned how easy it could be to manipulate people and things like that and after graduating he started the group of Quandarism.

Ed has EXTREME bipolar and horrible anger issues, he's easily angered and often doesn't know how to handle it so often times he uses violence as that's the only way that can calm him down other then sex. Speaking of which he gets a lot of it (LMAO) he formed a small group of women that act as a harem for himself, most having little traights that remind him of his mother (hair color, personality, height, ect) but he doesn't really hold any romantic feelings for them (unknown to them), again only really having them for sex- he also does have sex with other women but they're different from his harem. I usually draw him in a green polo shirt and dark brown pants but he has a lot of expensive clothing, his priest cloths are the most extravagant shit you'll ever see lmao.

Here's a list of little tidbits about him that I wasn't sure how to put into this

He's always taking things in the extreme and thus reacts extremely, when he cries He's straight up yelling, red wet face, snot and droll coming out, he's pathetic really

He's EXTREMELY stubborn and has a hard time taking no as an answer

He's pretty selfish, like EXTREMELY selfish.

He could be a father of millions but once he finds out that someone is pregnant he immediately forces them to get an at home abortion, most lead to death and others they end up not being able to children anymore.

His sermons are extremely weird, he always has the rooms temperature at a specific heat, no windows, bright light, and other little things. It can make people delirious

Because him and scarecrow are semi partners he also uses fear toxin on the cult members or even new recruits

Speaking on scarecrow, he's tried asking for the ingredients to make his own version but it never works

This man HATES my penguin, he hates him SO much. Not as much as his father of course

Theres more to him but that's like the jist! He's straight up an asshole and I love him teehee

[sweetlikehoneystingslikeabee]

I want to hear more about Zero Year Riddler being kind of a loser, please.

Zero Year Riddler is Actually A Nerdy Dork-Ass and I Have Evidence

aka at max ten pictures from the comic books. I apologize now that I had to get selective with photos and that these photos I took myself because I'm too lazy to scan. Includes hcs based on the canon stuff.

TW: Spoilers for Batman: Zero Year also known as Zero Year - Secret City and Zero Year - Dark City

We are going to be jumping around a little with these pictures. So the most basic/stripped down timeline- Edward sets off a massive plot w/ Doctor Death to first black out the City of Gotham while he prepares the Big Guns. Weather balloons filled with toxins to ensure no one is getting in or out of Gotham. He floods the city. Tells the surviving citizens that if they all want to get out, they have to give him a riddle he cannot solve. If you think that last part sounds very folk-lore or fairy tale like, YOU WOULD BE RIGHT. This period where he's setting up this challenge is the titular Zero Year. He is set up inside the Sphinx display in the Gotham History Museum. Batman stops him. onto the actual discussion.

We are first going to start with his introduction. I've discussed this before in a different post but this is meant to tell you multiple things. He has fifteen degrees he's earned. He makes conspiracy theory string boards. He is a dweeb who wears pocket protectors. The important thing to note story wise is that most of the points in this board are important/have a specific role in the story. He's correct about them. They matter. You might be saying "ok Fox/Belle but how does this say he's a nerdy dork-ass?"

look at him. He's described as being "boastful and annoyingly egotistical, but socially he's an egghead." This is not a man who plays well with others. But he genuinely thinks of himself as someone better than everyone else. What do you get? A smokescreen of theatrics, egotism and showing off to hide how socially inept he is.

Next, and sorry the first picture didn't turn out as well as I'd hoped. This is the first meeting of Edward and Bruce Wayne. Of course Edward has already plotted his death. Will try to enact this plot. The page with the snake is a reference to the ancient Egyptian game of Mehen which Edward mentions in passing earlier in the story. Historians currently don't know much about the game other than it's distinctive board- However here it becomes a parallel to Ouroboros. The snake that eats it's own tail. Its known as an alchemy symbol and spiritually represents the unity of all things. Life, Death, Rebirth. In Edward's mind: destruction and rising from ashes aka Gotham in his plans.

The second is post Zero Year, telling the citizens of Gotham his motivations. This is his monologue showing his warped version of the Hero's Journey. The Hero's Journey for those who don't know is a very old archetype on which many fictional stories are all based on (whether they realize it or not.) In it's simplest terms, a hero goes on an adventure. The hero through trauma and hardship, learns a lesson, wins their "boon" and returns home with newfound knowledge that transformed them as a person. Note this sounds kind of similar to the Ouroboros thing, doesn't it?

Edward wants to leave a mark and transform Gotham. Potentially the world. He wants control he never had growing up. He wants all of it.

On the headcanon end... This information combined with his hyperfixation on mythology (mentioned below), this man plays tabletop. Hear me out. God complex. Verbose. Theatrics. Obsession with heroics, the heroes journey and folklore... this man not only plays DnD, he has been a GM countless times. I think he'd play other tabletops as well, but DnD is his bread and butter.

His main race (in traditional) is a gnome because of the intelligence stats. When he does DM/GM, the story is rich and so fucking detailed. He is also mean as hell and will murder all your characters in emotionally devastating ways if you get unlucky. He'll never admit any of this to people he finds cool or too attractive (unless they get to know him first). He has a strong wall up to try and prevent any weakness or vulnerability to show through.

He likes fun facts. Not just about mythology he is the one who spits out statistical data and random fun facts in regular discussion. It's almost compulsive. At another part of the comic where he almost shoots Lucius Fox dead via robot, he states the statistical probability that he was already hit with a bullet, but to reload and shoot again anyways. Then he is in the middle of telling a trivia fact about foxes before Batman comes in to save Lucius.

This feeds into my headcanon that he's neurodivergent. And also was a Jeopardy fanatic as a child. Probably still is. He likes to impress (especially dates) with the knowledge he can pull from seemingly nowhere. Also if you haven't gotten the impression yet, he cannot and will not stop talking. Loves the sound of his own damn voice. You know he's monologued himself to trouble multiple times. Also note how smoothly he's just glossing over his shitty dad/abusive childhood (again.)

Piggybacking on the last point- He has a special interest (read: potentially hyperfixation) on mythology and folklore. On multiple occasions he mentions these stories in passing as an anecdote for the events currently happening around him. Archimedes was a greek mathematician in ancient Sicily. He invented a great many things and would come to be known as one of the leading scientists of classical antiquity. The story Edward references is a rather famous one- Archimedes invented complex pulley systems and was tasked to prove the strength and ingenuity of these pulleys by moving the Syracusia, a luxury cruise ship, in and out of the water.

The second he mentions the story of the Gordian Knot. The tale goes as such: Alexander the Great's time. Whoever could untie the Gordian Knot was said to be destined to rule all of Asia. No one could solve it. The knot was impeccable. It was complex. Alexander the Great showed his great mental genius by doing what no one else had done. He cut the knot. There's more to it but that's the gist. That's the why of why Edward looks to this story and remembers it.

Everything about The Riddler of Zero Year is about proving his intelligence. Creating a name and a culture enveloped with smarts. If we didn't have the lore associated with Egyptian mythology as well, I'd say ancient Greece is his topic of choice but I think he likes all of it. That said, this man likes historical movies, historical texts, museums. If you take him to a museum or any kind of zoo or aquarium, he's going to talk your ear off on what he already knows for at least several hours. Are you impressed? Please be impressed. Tell him how smart he is and praise him like your favorite house cat.

The final pictures with actual analysis. These might seem silly or a rather insignificant detail to zoom in on.

This is him setting off the triggers to flood the city. Note the suitcase. He says this out loud to no one but himself. His own joke that only he gets to laugh at. Then he LITERALLY walks away whistling. A lot of this kind of behavior feeds into him knowing and being so smug about how clever he is. He's watching dozens upon dozens of citizens who have no idea what is going to happen to them, running in fear. And he's focused only on how gleeful he is that it's all coming together.

In the second: this is the final trial. Batman saving the city of Gotham and Riddler getting to have his big villain moment. And from the moment he reveals the lightshow of lasers ready to cut down our hero at will- he begins playing with his cane and hat. To the point that Batman is almost panicked for him to stop and just ask the damn questions.

These both run to one point and that's to him, this is all a game. We don't know this in the story yet, but he has an additional failsafe to blow the city up even if Batman wins (he doesn't expect him to, but he always makes sure to be a step ahead in case). He's lighthearted because, despite his curiosity around Batman and being constantly surprised that Batman keeps surviving, he considers this chess game match and set. His own arrogance supersedes the idea that Batman could be a genuine hero willing to take all the risk to save these people.

Riddler says to "get smart or die." Edward does not expect someone to do just that and more. For these the behaviors are more dorky vs the actual analysis but you get the point.

Bonus: we get the full picture that he constantly has a crown image above his screen in Gotham Square during Zero Year. Sir, Why Are You Like This? A lot of this comes down to: please give him attention he is so desperate for attention and probably physical affection. He's starving for it.

If you actually read through all of this, I'm love you and I hope you're having a fantastic day. Thank you for taking the time to listen to my rambling.

[finniestoncrane]

Mommy kink anon here to say thank you one thousand times for the list of your works, I had already read half of them but it was nice read them again like I was fulfilling a check list,

Do you think i could ask for the riddlers with a mommy kink( or stuff like that) as a prompt? Just how they would be and otherwise, I just want to ,,, do things,,,, to them ,,, mostly Dano, Capullo and Gotham I’ll admit, (because of your own writing!) thanks again ! Love your stuff Finnie

Mommy!Kink

Riddler Headcanons i also want to... do things... to them anon lmao ALSO you are too sweet and kind omg 💚 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: mommy!kink duh, sexual elements related to that

arkham

i think he'd have a hard time letting go enough for it to start with

but once he did, he'd love the attention and the affection

parental love mixed with genuine adoration and sexual attraction?

it's like everything he needs wrapped into one soft package

plus look at this man and tell me he doesn't have an oral fixation

sucking tits will be his preferred stim, ending all meltdowns

and he'll come plodding into a room in an absolute tantrum

just to be cuddled and coddled and have his ego stroked

twojar

this is only his thing when he's very sick or very sad

it's the only time he'll let himself be the softer one in a relationship

and even then, it takes a lot of convincing to get him to soften up

he'll still try and be in control and dominant, even if he's dying

so it requires a lot of reverse psychology almost

"please, since you're so capable and strong..."

"maybe you could let me be the caring one... just once..."

anything that makes it seem like he's doing it for you

gotham

perfect candidate for being smothered in tits and fawned over

he has the perfect little smile for looking up at you from your lap

resting his silly little head there while you stroke his chest

watching him make his pretty smile while you jerk him off

and tell him he's a very good boy, who deserves this

because he's had a rough time of it

he needs to be reminded that he's smart and interesting

and that he's absolutely precious to you

unburied

he's just a lil guy, just a lil baby boy

he'd love nothing more than being tended to

yes, he would like you to make him a snack

and bring him a chocolate milk

and of course you can help masturbate

and maybe he would like to take a nap on your chest

only if you promise to stroke his hair and soothe him all nice

and uh... be nude while you do it

young justice

this might just be my own desires screaming out loud

but he is ripe for a suffocating hug and some loving, sloppy head

and there's nothing he deserves more than overwhelming love

positivity, praise, body worship, ego-boosting

he wouldn't really know what to do with all the soft love

but he'd be immensely grateful for it

he might cry the first couple of times you go full mommy on him

but he'll get used to it eventually, and be begging for more

dano

i know he is a fan of big, soft bodies

so being mothered would suit him

surrounded by warmth and love and held tight in your arms

that's his new safe space, he lives there now, don't let go

you have to hold him or pet him or kiss him at all times

it's like a need for him, that constant affection and reassurance

plus, y'know, getting to squeeze or suck or be smothered by

while also being complimented and loved? perfection

btaa

it might be nice for him to be cared for in a loving manner

(the platonic and tough love style of ms. tuesday is ok mostly!)

but someone to tell him he's a big, strong, handsome genius

and hold him close, be obsessed with holding him actually

while stroking his cheeks and brushing his hair

cooing over everything he says or does

the praise is more important for him than anything else tbh

capullo

ok so this is definitely appealing to him, especially the caring thing

because he'd ideally like a servant to do all of his chores

as well as get on their knees and suck his dick when he asks

and surely if you're his mommy, then you know he deserves it

because he's such a good boy, and he tries so hard

doesn't he deserve to be rewarded for that? huh, mommy?

you'll regret ever offering to hold him and fuss over him

because he's taking advantage of it, to an irritating degree

telltale

listen, he's not super into this, like he could take it or leave it

being fussed over isn't his thing

plus he's the oldest of all the mean green beans

there's not much that he needs mothered over

he's a grown man, leave him alone

but uh, he's a tits man, for sure

so resting on them or sucking on them

maybe he could allow that, just as a little treat

[undiscovered-horizon]

Imagine breaking Joker and Riddler out of Arkham.

🫀Requests are open🫀

Something was hanging in the air - had been for the entire week. It seemed as if every day there was a new staff and then there were those suspiciously often power outages... Despite the suffocating strangeness poisoning the already stale air of the high-security hospital, the regular workers acted completely natural, dismissing all questions and suspicions. But those two knew better.

Due to the lack of a better pastime, Joker and Riddler spent a fair amount of time talking. Not always agreeing but always understanding to a degree. They couldn't be sure what exactly was going on, what sublime scheme was happening right under the guards' noses but they were both certain that whatever calamity was going to fall on Arkham, it was going to be their golden ticket for freedom. Little did they know, it was the golden ticket that found them.

On a stormy night, waves crashed furiously against the coast. The anger of the sky was great enough to disturb radio communication and visibility. The water around Arkham quite poetically gave voice to the soul of the chilling place: dark, murky and entirely deranged in its unstoppable rage.

"Team leader, we have a go," you heard through the earpiece. "initiating a lockdown in 3... 2... 1... Building locked. Clearing path to the rooftop."

Darkness fell on the entire complex and red emergency lighting came on. It was time to make a living and uphold your immaculate reputation among the demimonde and desperate prudes.

Emerging from the shadows, you grabbed the head of a nearby guard and broke his neck without hesitation. There were more important things than morality or ethics.

You had spent so much time studying the layout of Arkham, you could find their cells with closed eyes and while walking backwards. One of the reasons you've been so successful with your underworld business was the fact that you never took chances: an acceptable plan is one that physically cannot go wrong.

The bottle of strong you had stolen from the storage room was in your hand. There was something funny about that: in a place where shoelaces and necklaces are forbidden, there are litres of acid. Pouring the corrosive substance, the metal locks sizzled as they were melting away. No longer restrained, the heavy door swung open.

To you, Joker and Riddler looked completely unassuming. Without the knowledge of what they'd done and were capable of doing, they could pass off as those two obnoxious guys in high school who whine about girls not dating them. But yourself you were guilty of a similar crime: nothing about the way you looked exactly screamed 'gun for hire'. They surely had that shadow of madness covering their expressions but their visuals did not strike you as murderous per see, more like incomprehensible rambling.

"The clown and the virgin, the true menaces of Gotham," you said while looking between them. "I tremble in fear."

"Princess peach, aren't you a little too pretty to be a goon?" the Joker said with a lopsided grin. It was just one sentence and you were already up for a fight with him. No doubt he'd love that. "You could make so much money if you considered a change of occupation."

"Oh, I'm sure you'd love that. Now, trot along. We're on a tight schedule." Without sparing another second, you turned around and began walking away from the cells. "Rapture 1, we’re ready for pick up," you spoke to the earpiece.

"Roger that," the man on the other side responded.

"What's going on?" Riddler enquired. His anxiety was too rampant for him to even begin to conceal it. Despite that, he walked along Joker behind you. "Where are you taking us?"

"Today's your lucky day, dearest. Someone rich and important wants you to walk free."

You marched through the concrete halls of Arkham, emergency lighting making the path only kind of visible. Every now and then one of the prisoners-patients would bang on the door demanding or pleading to be taken out of their cell. A few years ago maybe you'd have a speck of sympathy for them. Riddler and Joker seemed to not be up for more questions. The former was probably too confused and untrusting, while the latter simply settled for suspicious snickering.

The strong, cold wind hit your face when you made it to the rooftop. It brought drops of seawater to higher altitudes, mixing it with grimy rainwater that drenched your clothes. Gotham's landscape would be virtually impossible to see if it wasn't for the bright lights of city nightlife.

The whirring blades of the chopper's propeller made it hard to hear one another. "Hop in and let's be gone," you yelled while pointing at the helicopter.

"Oh, but there's a trick, no?" Joker asked between his maniacal cackles. It was hard to say which part of the breakout he was enjoying the most. "Your face might be deliciously innocent but your heart ain't." For a man who was completely out of his marbles, he was smart.

"There's a saying that goes 'when the cat is gone, the mice jaunce'. You know what happens when the mice are gone? The cat goes for bigger prey. And someone wants to make sure that the bigger prey has time to finish what they had started."

"Boss," someone yelled to you. You turned your head to see Marco - a heavy man with an equally heavy Yorkshire accent. He surely looked intimidating even without the rifle he was holding. "National Guard knows about the lockdown. ETA 6 minutes."

"Get the napalm, Marco. I want this to look like an inside job."

"Yes, ma'am." Without exchanging spare words, Marco walked past you and gathered some people carrying metal canisters to set the building on fire.

"Rapture 2, the fire is on the way. Be on standby," you said on the radio before getting into the helicopter.

"Roger that. Rapture 2 moving to the rendezvous point."

Before sitting down, you leaned towards the pilot and grabbed his shoulder to get his attention:

"Get us out of here."

You sat on a bench across from the fresh runaways. Now that you were nearly brushing your knees against a serial killer and a mass murderer, hundreds of feet above the ground, a sting of anxiety appeared in your chest.

"We'll play nice, princess peach," Joker speaks up. He must have noticed your sudden uneasiness or perhaps suspected it and decided to try his luck. "Maybe."

"I'm not worried," you lied. Years of working for the worst people on this side of the globe taught you a thing or two about excellent acting. "I believe you two have enough problems without the big fish coming after you."

The believable lie got a laugh out of Joker. Out of the three of you, he seemed to be the only one actually having fun.

"You know, I'm quite surprised, princess peach," he continued. "Your plan worked so far."

"Of course it did, darling. They don't call me Archangel for pretty eyes."

Joker cackled again and nodded to himself. He was familiar with that name. For better or worse, you knew right then that he wasn't going to let go that easily.

[2-guns-b1tch]

Talk to Me

Arkham! Riddler x F! Reader

🔞 Minor DNI!!!

TW: past child abuse

Masterlist

Chapter 3/ AO3

“I found the answer to your riddle.”

Edward stares at you, an amused grin spreading across his lips.

“Well then, tell me.” He leans his body towards you, his elbows against the table.

“The answer is cat.”

“Very good, Doctor. Very good." He chuckles. “How did you come to that conclusion?”

“The first part is about how stealthy cats are. The second and third are about how lovable yet independent they are. And from then on I just assumed the rest.”

“You are definitely exceeding my expectations. The bar was pretty low to begin with, but your effort counts for something.”

You suppressed the urge to roll your eyes, deciding to focus on the more important issue. “How did you know I had a cat?”

“It may seem impressive to you, but it was just logical thinking.” He taps his index finger on his temple. “You see, I noticed some fur on your lab coat, so I assumed you might have a pet.”

You look down at yourself and to your surprise there’s a few strands caught in the fabric just like he said. It probably got stuck in your lab coat after you hugged Meg before you left in the morning.

“Most citizens of Gotham live in apartments, so it's more practical to have a cat than a dog. And you seem like the kind of person who prefers cats.”

His remark makes you raise an eyebrow. "What makes you think that?”

Edward shakes his head. “You could be out there, with normal and good citizens of Gotham. But instead you chose to be here, among the crazy and degenerate.”He shrugs, leaning back in his chair. “A cat would be an appropriate pet for you.”

“That's just a stereotype. Cats can be very affectionate and great companions.”

“Well, I know a kitty that would make you think otherwise. In fact, her obsession with stealing makes me wonder if she shouldn't be locked here.”

“If you're talking about Catwoman I would have to disagree. Kleptomania only qualifies for theft of worthless objects, and as far as I know, she only likes jewelry and luxury things.”

“Oh, please. A sane person wouldn't go around dressed as a cat walking across rooftops. And I've seen her clean herself with her tongue once! She's definitely not right in the head."

You can't help the unexpected laugh that leaves your lips, covering your mouth in an attempt not to stroke Edward's ego, which doesn't quite work out.

Edward gives you a smug look, his eyebrows rising in surprise. “Is that a laugh, Doctor? Did I make you laugh?” His tone is humorous, proud to have broken your composure.

"Hold on. We're here to talk about you, not the other Gotham criminals." You take a deep breath, adjusting your posture in the chair.

Edward clicks his tongue. "Alright . If you insist. But let me ask you before we get started. What is your cat's breed?

The question catches you off guard, but you still answer him. “It’s a calico.”

"Oh, I see. So it's a female, isn't it?

“Your mind is pretty sharp today. She really is a female and her name is Meg. How did you know?”

“My mind is always sharp, thank you very much. I just used logical thinking again. You see, calico cats are predominantly female, because their coat is linked to the X chromosome. Calico males are more rare.” Edward explains with his index finger raised in the air.

"I didn’t know that. I'm glad you're using your intelligence for less destructive things."

The expression on his face darkens and Edward crosses his arms over his chest. “Don't jump to conclusions, Doctor. I'm just bored.”

“Then how about I ask you a few questions? Let's see…” You look through your notes until you get to today's topic. “Can you tell me about your childhood?”

"Miserable. Next?"

You put your clipboard down, deciding to maintain eye contact with him. “By all accounts that is when your fascination with riddles began. I believe discussing those years could explain your compulsive behavior.”

"Very well…" Edward sighs, rolling his eyes. “My father hated me. Always called me a moron.”

Your brows furrow slightly, a familiar feeling hitting you, but you try to push it away for now. "I see."

“I was determined to prove him wrong, so I entered a contest at school. A twenty dollar prize for the kid who could figure out an almost impossible logic problem. I won, of course.”

“And did that pleased your father?”

“Hardly,” he huffs, his handcuffs waving in the air as he gestures. “He was convinced I had cheated. He kept yelling: You must have cheated! Admit it, you moron! You cheated!” Edward recounts, his voice full of anger. "I swore I didn't and he hit me for lying."

“I'm so sorry, Edward. You didn't deserve this.” For a moment you want to reach out and touch him, but decide not to.

The wolfish grin on his face sends a chill down your spine. Edward tilts his head, his glasses on the tip of his nose. "Don’t be. He was right."

Now things fell into place perfectly. The need to outsmart everyone. His egotistical nature. How he needed to be better and superior. These were all ways for Edward to protect himself, a shield so that no one would treat him like his father had. So that no one would treat him like an moron.

You make a quick note, taking a deep breath before looking at Edward again.

“I'm still sorry, Edward. You didn't deserve to be treated that way, no child does."

His gaze softens, but he talks in a annoyed tone. “I don't need your pity, Doctor. Most of the lunatics here have troubled relationships with their parents, and unfortunately, I am no exception.”

“What I feel is not pity. I know how it is to feel this way. Scared. Lost. Lonely.”

The words leave a bitter taste on your mouth, but they don't stop flowing.

Before Edward can counter with a sarcastic comment, you pull up your shirt sleeve, showing off the burn that covered most of your forearm. The marks were old, long healed. But you could still remember the heat over your skin. The pain overwhelming every nerve in your body until you became numb.

“I know because my mom did the same thing to me.”

You don't really know why you did it. That probably break the doctor-patient code in some kind of way, but you needed to show Edward. You needed him to know he wasn't alone.

His eyes move between your burn and your face, filled with something you haven't seen before.

“Why…why did she do this to you?” Edward asks after a long period of silence.

You cover your scar again. “I don't remember exactly. I only know that I did something that displeased my mother and as punishment she burned me with the hot water from the teapot. But it doesn't matter anyway, I know I didn't deserve it, just like you didn't deserve your father's abuse.”

“I won't say I'm sorry if that's what you want to hear.” Despite his cruel voice, the expression on Edward's face was different.

For the first time, Edward appeared to be concerned about something other than himself.

“I don't want you to feel bad for me. That's not why I showed you this,” you lean towards him. “Every child deserves a parent, but not every parent deserves a child. Do you understand that, Edward?”

He doesn't bother to answer you, preferring to look down at his lap, his lips pressed into a thin line.

“I have some self-destructive habits because of my traumas,” you continue. “In my case, when I get really nervous I have a tic that makes me want to scratch my burn. You deal with your insecurities in a different way.”

Edward looks up again, his nose wrinkled as if you just said something absurd. “Insecurities? I have no insecurities!”

“I think you use self-centered comments in an attempt to feel superior because your father made you feel insignificant.”

Edward slams his fists against the table, the metal creaking with the impact. He looks like he's about to explode. His jaw clenched painfully hard, his face growing redder and redder.

But you don't look away from him. You stand your ground. Did he want to take his anger out on you? Fine, as long as he got everything out of his system.

“How dare you insinuate something so dumb about me? No one could ever make me feel insignificant. I am Edward Nygma! The Riddler! I'm above everyone else in this stupid city,” Edward snarls through clenched teeth, pointing accusingly at you. “Including you, Doctor. Don't think you can solve me. Don't pretend you understand me!"

“But I want to understand. I really want. Edward, please. Let me help you.”

“Enough of this selfless bullshit! Do you want to help me, Doctor? Let's see if you're still like this after I'm done with your furball! Maybe I'll make a scarf out of your darling kitten. What do you think?"

On your first day on the job you were told that patients could make threats, but that you shouldn't worry because they were usually empty, just a way for patients to scare therapists.

But what you felt wasn't fear. What hit you was a sudden wave of anger. If Edward wanted to push you over your limits he finally did.

“Please, Edward. Tell me what my poor cat did to be the target of your wrath. Did she steal money from the poor? Or maybe she is involved in a corruption scheme? We both know you would never attack a defenseless animal.” You can't contain the anger in your voice. Now you were the one ready to explode.

The expression on Edward's face changes dramatically. He just stares at you silently, eyes wide in chock. He almost looked scared to see you react after so many insults.

You keep going. “Attack me all you want, I can take it, but never, ever threaten Meg like that again. If this happens again I will not hesitate to send you to another therapist.”

The flame of his rage burns out, until there was nothing left. Edward takes a deep breath as he presses himself against the chair, his ego seeming to deflate like a balloon.

Something in your stomach turns over seeing him like that. The Riddler. The most narcissistic, self-absorbed man in Gotham suddenly looked so small. As much as you needed to set limits, you couldn't shake out a feeling of guilt.

“Did your mother make you feel insignificant too?” His voice is low, almost a whisper. As if he feared anyone else would hear.

You recompose yourself in your chair, your anger slowly easing. “Yes, besides other things. If I disobeyed or simply did not fit the expectations, I was punished.”

“You said you sometimes scratch your burn. Why?"

You let out a sigh. "Edward, we're not here to talk about me."

"Please." The request seems so genuine and Edward stares at you like a sorry puppy. You can't help how gentle your voice comes out.

“Sometimes the pain can serve as way to cope, but it's a bad habit and I'm trying to stop. That's why I adopted Meg.” It felt right to tell Edward this. Despite everything it felt right to tell him this. Maybe you weren’t so different, even if he was a criminal.

“Can you bring me another book?” He sounds shy, staring at his hands as he picks at his fingernails. For the first time you can see the small scars and calluses that covered the skin of his hands.

“Of course, Edward. Another puzzle book?”

His cheeks flush in the bright light of the room. “No, I was thinking of something different this time, maybe a literary book. What do you think of Frankenstein?” He proposes awkwardly.

A mad scientist tormented by his own creation. It suited Edward.

“I'll see what I can do. We're done for today, but I'd like to continue this conversation in the next session."

Edward doesn't look back as he is led back to his cell. This time you're the one watching him until he's out of sight.

——

Unlike Director Sharp's office, Dr. Young's office had good lighting and was ventilated.

Dr. Young had definitely opted for a more minimalist style. The furniture was simple with grayish colors. All the books, files, and paperwork were neatly organized. There were no decorations, except for the picture of her family on the desk.

You settle into the uncomfortable chair, checking the clock on the wall one more time. This time it was Dr. Young who was a few minutes late for the meeting.

A part of you wanted so bad to explore the room. You imagined what it would be like to read her files and notes, see a small fragment of her amazing mind.

Those thoughts are send away when the door behind you opens, Dr. Young's footsteps alerting you of her presence.

“Sorry for my delay. I had some work to finish, but I'm here now.” She passes you, a file under her arm.

She goes to the metal cabinet behind her desk, opening one of the bottom drawers. You catch a quick glimpse of the file before it disappears, managing to make out the name "Titan" on the cover.

“Have you been waiting for too long?” she asks as she closes the drawer, causing your gaze to turn to her again.

“Only a few minutes, but no problem.” You smile understandably, trying to hide your how tired you were after a long day.

She sits across from you, hands clasped together on the table.

"Director Sharp apologizes for not being able to be here, unfortunately he had other matters to attend to."

That explained why you weren't in his office. "I understand. But my next update wasn't for another two weeks.”

“You see, Director Sharp has proposed an idea for the treatment of Edward Nygma and I think it would be a good way to improve his condition.”

You frown slightly, unable to hide your displeasure. Quincy Sharp might be the director of the asylum, but he was no therapist. Despite this you nod your head for her to continue.

“We thought it would be a good idea to start shock therapy with Mr. Nygma.”

The words are so wrong in your ears and for a moment you hope you heard wrong.

“Wh… what?” You stare at her open-mouthed.”

“No need to be worried, Doctor. Shock therapy can be very helpful in treating patients.”

"Of course, but only in cases of the violent ones or those with severe depression. And that’s not his case.”

Your heart is pounding against your ribs as if you've run a marathon. Your hands cold and covered in sweat.

Keeping silent and accepting orders from your superiors was so much easier, you always hated confrontation. But you couldn't let them do that to Edward, he didn't need or deserve something as drastic as shock therapy.

How could Quincy Sharp suggest something like that? And worse, Dr. Young seemed to agree with him.

You swallow hard, trying to pull yourself together. “Dr. Young, as Edward's therapist I don't think this is the best solution for his behavior."

She raises an eyebrow. “Edward? I would advise to not be on first name basis with the subjects. It encourages them to get…attached.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. Why did you feel like you were caught doing something wrong?

“I prefer patients to feel more comfortable during sessions, but that's not the point. I remain against shock therapy.”

Dr.Young stands up with a sigh, walking around the table to your side. She towers over you, staring down at you with her green cold eyes. You can't help but feel small in front of her.

A gentle hand covers your shoulder. “You know what we do here is for the good of the patients, don't you? I would never suggest something I didn't believe was necessary." She smiles at you, but instead of being comforting it makes the hair on your nape stand up.

“Y-yes, Dr. Young.”

“I will trust your decision, but think more about our idea, alright?”

You nod, a feeling of unease running through your body.

As you get up to leave you stop in front of the door, turning to face Dr. Young once more.

“Earlier, when you talked about calling patients by their first names, you called them subjects.”

Her gaze remains on you, but her smile falters slightly. "Did I? I didn't even notice. Forgive me, I must be tired.”

The explanation doesn't sound convincing, but you would accept it for now.