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quandaryqueen · 2 years

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since i’m not done bombarding you with request because i love how you portray riddler and scarecrow. and of course, if it is okay with you? would you mind doing a part 2 to ‘Will they or won't they?’ perhaps later down the line when edward has become the riddler? but of course it’s all up to your creative discretion. thank you so much ♥️ and congratulations on graduating, queenie 👏🏻🎉

Will they or won't they? II

Arkhamverse Edward Nygma X Reader

In fear for yourself, you made the wrong choice.

Part I

Hiiii omg thank you for the compliments and congratulatories 🥹

You invited Edward to come with you on a holiday dinner with your family on Christmas break, seeing as the man doesn't really have a plan aside from sulking in the corner of his room, so it came to you as a shock when instead of taking a break from work for once, he chose to work during the holidays... You really can't force the guy to come along with you and so you left Gotham for the merry little celebration. Well, you couldn't leave the guy alone and so to at least give him a lick of some sort of affection during Christmas, you left a gift on his desk back in the office before you departed.

It was hard not to think about Edward even whilst you were enjoying the event with friends and families whom you haven't seen for so long. Only been gone for a few hours and you were already missing that six feet tall of a dickhead. If he were here with you, he'd be there joining your family to poke fun at you and your lack of a boyfriend or girlfriend at this age. Edward would then add in the fact at how you'd be a touch dense when it comes to your other coworkers' advances, something your family would then confirm with a story of theirs about your time in high school and being unable to tell romantic pursuits and friendly gestures apart, that you've brushed everyone aside thinking it was purely platonic.

You wondered if he had ready opened the gift you left on his desk. It was so damn difficult to chose a gift for him, gosh, he can be a touch hurtful with words. You can only hope that he doesn't hate it that much, to be honest you have no idea what to give him. You were at a desperate need to play Eeny, Meeny, Miny, Moo in the middle of browsing through some items and picked whatever you landed on and never turned back again... Well, you really did try, even down to the presentation, handpainting some green vines and icons and inside jokes on the box. Then, you wrote a letter and put it atop the box before you wrapped that thing in a pretty purple bow.

It's all you've thought about the whole time you were out of town. You were almost relieved when you return back home after six days. Funny that you were saying that, you were pretty sure you wanted nothing more than to leave this city that was too lost from saving. But anyways, you return to your station in the office, making a beeline to the Cybercrime department, in Edward's office... Where he was nowhere to be found. Your gift on his desk remain unmoved.

"You haven't heard?" You flinched from hearing a voice behind you. Turning your head to your coworker, you see she wesrs a certain foreboding shade of morose on her face. She continues on. "Nashton released confidential information to the public. He's in Arkham now."

... you were gone for six days and Edward had managed to fuck over seventy percent of the Gotham Police department with inside information about how some officers worked, that along the Mayor and the almost-appointed police commissioner. And they put him in a cell for doing the right thing. To think that Edward had only recently became the head of the cybercrime department, back then it was impressive to you how at a young age he has already became head... Looking back, he must've pulled strings. His predecessor was kicked out of the police force when he was outed as a dangerous man who uses his resources in the force to stalk women, as discovered by Edward... It really does make you think if Edward had something to do with it, aside from him just happening to stumble upon the former head's computer files.

All those times you talked about fellow officers, it was odd to you at how much he was deeply invested about baseless rumours about the others and you offered him as much as you could, thinking that this was some simple conversation to pass time during the dull hours in the office. You have been working in the police force longer than Edward and you really thought that it was just him being curious about the others. After studying the information he's released to the public, you recognised what to you back then we're simply rumours spreading around. Edward must've dug deeper and found the rumour true.

With his termination from the cybercrime department as head, you were next in line to replace your best friend... Were you even friends at all? Or did he just pretended you were to get what he wanted?

How were even supposed to feel? All the bad people in the police department has been removed and replaced by promising younglings wanting to make a difference, the Mayor resigned in disgrace and had yet made it clear whether he's running for re-elections or such. This was Edward's intention... Right? It has to be. But you knew Edward was more complicated than that. Regardless of his intentions, he has made a profound, positive impact against Gotham. You have no idea how long this will last but by god, GCPD felt like it's polished its slate clean.

And yet you couldn't pinpoint how you feel about Edward. This was supposed to be joyful and yet you weren't. Your inability to articulate your complicated thoughts had you by the neck, all day and night long. Thoughts about visiting him in Arkham has been entertained, but that's how they remain. Buried under a pile of work you've buried yourself into after becoming the head of the unit, never once have you stopped to cater to yourself these days in fear that you'd be thinking about Edward again.

The only time you had to primarily think about him was a year or two after his incident, wherein he apparently escaped Arkham. He started calling himself the Riddler and it was your mission to track him down. You claimed to be hardened by long hours of working, you attempt to reassure yourself that this was your job and you were going to locate him... But he located you first.

It wasn't hard at all, really, you still live in your old apartment and he still knows you tape your key under a window ledge in your floor. He was quite delighted to catch you arriving home after hearing from news report about the new commissioner reassuring the public that the cybercrime department is working double time to track him down.

My, he'd say it would be such an honour to be tracked down by the underdog that is Y/N L/N, head of the Cybercrime Department, his replacement, his only friend. But that wouldn't be friendly of you, now would you? And besides, he knows he's still better than you in every aspects. It's funny to him how he does value you as a friend still, and yet he wouldn't hesitate to wring the life out of you... Well, that's what he thinks. It was hell all over without you and he denies it.

Imagine the delight in his countenance when he saw you jump upon turning the light on to reveal him seated in your living room sofa. You looked so terrified, he wishes he had taken a picture.

"You..." After collecting your wits, you stare up at Edward with wide eyes. "How did you--?"

"Not even greeting your dearest friend?" He chuckles. "Key taped under the ledge. Honestly, I thought you would learned by now that you, of all people, should learn more about securities. Especially when you're now collecting a big following. You never know who'd drop by during ungodly hours."

It was admirable how you've made an enemy out of every rogue he knows of and your list can only grow the longer you were seated in front of a computer in the police station, by this you were also making your way up the hitlist as well. Some say it's Batman but oh, as much as they aren't as good as the Dark Knight, there's Y/N L/N.

"What are you doing here?" You sharply probe. The police in you screamed to call for back-up, attract Batman's attention, anything-- but the friend of Edward Nashton in you wanted nothing more than to have what you had back then.

"Just paying a friend of mine a visit. We are friends after all." He takes on with a light-hearted tone in contrast of his previous statement filled with implications. And so he admits, you are his dearest friend, he wouldn't drop by without so much of a thought of getting caught, now would he? He trusts you wouldn't tell them about your friend.

And if you did well... Hmm. I guess you'd no longer be his friend. And as if you'd catch him, you know he's a slippery one.

You continue to eye him suspiciously. Was he here to kill you?

"Come, sit with me. You know I don't bite that hard." He teases you like how he used to when he worked with you in the police force and yet it no longer sounds the same to you. It had only amplified the suspicion and fear that he might have something under his sleeves that won't end well for you. He continues to urge to by eagerly patting a spot beside him.

And so you did so reluctant. He seemed to have find delight to see your tensed frame take a seat next to him, seeing how you tremble under his eyes and refuse to meet his gaze.

"I have heard a lot about you. You've made yourself quite the notorious little thing. Not as good as Batman, but you were certainly up there." He was unnervingly cheerful when he said it. And without you even prompting it, he began talking about what he had been. "Oh what have I been up to? Ohoho... Did you really think I was behind bars all these times?"

... you were told he was. Your furrowed brows only eggs him to elaborate further.

"Well someone recognised my genius and took me under their wing where I worked with the government. A special group of sorts, the Suicide Squad, a set of convicts with extraordinary abilities used for... Special means, such as silencing local or international organizations or individuals... Heh, they thought I'd submit so easily to them and now I possess an item they deem strictly prohibited from the public's eye."

"Why are you telling me this?" He had told you information about himself and what he had been up to, though you weren't aware whether he kept things from you or if this were there at all, these were still a substantial amount of intel. It is not your forte, but you can always hand over scraps of hearsay.

"Oh you know, just catching up. Isn't that what friends do?" Is he still not going to drop that 'friend' act? "Anyways, now that I'm out of their leashes they report that I've escaped, when it was them who released me in the first place. I also heard you were in charged of finding me~" he lightly flicks your nose, causing you to back away at his sudden movement.

"It seems that... You found me." You find yourself commenting even if you were hesitant to speak.

You were almost expecting him to pull a knife from his person and plunge it deep in your throat after his tale. Could it be that he's telling you these, all these, knowing you wouldn't tell? Well, dead men tell no tales as they say. Fearing for your life, you discreetly activate your phone to call the commissioner.

"Hmm, and I will always find you."

Whatever does he mean by that?

Before you can utter another word, he stood from his seat.

"I believe it's late and you still have work to do tomorrow. As much as I want to stay, I mustn't overstay my welcome." He tugs his collar. "It's good to see you again, Y/N. I hope to meet with you again,"

"Hello?" The muffled voice of the commissioner sounds from under your coat. Edward didn't hear it at all and all you had to do was to remain neutral to as to not reveal anything to him.

"I genuinely believe you and I can be in this together. You'd only be wasting your potential in that rotten police force. We can work together and bring them down along with Batman." He takes your hands within his and he gazes within yours.

"Edward..." Is he thinking about doing the same thing he did back then? Reveal whoever Batman is to the public and ruin his image?

"You don't have to answer right now. I'll let you think about it." And he knows you'd make the right call anyways, where's the need to rush?

He couldn't help but to feel the warmth of your palms within his, even tempted enough to run his thumb over your knuckles before he had sadly let you go to leave. Turning from the threshold of your door, he lifts his hood up to give you one last smile and a wave, before leaving.

... he didn't kill you. He told you all that and he didn't kill you. You knew too much and keeping you alive would guarantee that he goes back to captivity and to captivity for good. Friend... Does he really sees you as such? Or was this just a ruse?

You wait for a beat of thirty until you were certain he had left, before you take your phone from your coat, where the Commissioner had remained on the line.

"Hello Commissioner?"

"I'm on my way to send Batman in. Head down to the station, let's talk about what you discovered."

Before you can retort, he hangs up, leaving you in silence. Sighing for the umpteenth time, you allow your body to meld with the sofa for a small while. Why can't it just swallow you whole and spit you out in the morning?

Not even being allowed to step out of your clothes from work, you were then forced to go back to the station. Only then did you realise you've made yourself an enemy out of the person who considered you trustworthy enough as his friend.

What have I done?

#edward nygma #riddler x reader #dc x reader #edward nygma x reader #dc x you #edward nigma #request #arkhamverse riddler x reader #assault on arkham riddler #arkham riddler #delightfulsepsis

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silverdecepticon93 · 4 years

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Hey Silver! Just wondering, would you do us the great honor to make headcannons of Assault Arkham Riddler and his S/o pretty please?

God, he’s a shameless tease and flirt.

Loves getting you all flustered and worked up, especially when you get into little arguments with him.

He’ll just egg you on because he likes seeing you debating or arguing, granted, you’ll probably never win because, well, it’s The Riddler.

However, you can easily spin it on him by flirting back instead of getting all flustered and annoyed.

Complimenting him, praising him, and anything in general will surprise him that you’re not snapping back but flirting at him is going to get him flustered.

Not only that but he’d probably get a bit huffy if you manage to flip it around on him.

“You’re no fun to tease sometimes.” He muttered.

You kissed his cheek, “Aw, you don’t mean that.”

He rolled his eyes before smiling at you, “Yeah, I don’t.”

You get worried about him and he has to constantly assure you that nothing bad will happen but when something bad happens-

Like he gets arrested, he gets a black eye from Batman, or anything like that

You can’t help but be smug.

“I told you so.” You hummed.

“That’s my line,” He responded, although there was a small grin on his face.

There’s a lot of flirting going on between you two, constantly.

The Suicide Squad’s sick of it, Batman is sick of it, Waller is sick of it, and everyone else is sick of it.

Yet, they oddly ship it.

Harley is the most avid shipper of you two.

#The Riddler x reader #The Riddler x you #Assualt on Arkham Riddler #Assault on Arkham #Edward Nygma x reader #Edward Nygma x you #Dc villains x reader #Dc villains x you #Dc x reader #Dc x you

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writersindigestion · 7 years

Text

teased | edward nygma x reader

“was it even regret, anymore?”

reader gender: female

words: 4362

warnings: trauma, substance abuse, paranoia, PTSD, minor violence, minor blood, Edward is still Mean and Green

notes: hey there again, everyone. once more - for your ease of reading, i’ve split this chapter into another two parts… because it was almost at 10,000 words. :////’ sorry i suck so much. but i’m nearing the end… i think. expect another part within the next week or so.

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FIVE | PART SIX also available on: AO3

For [Y/N], personally, the following weeks were filled with inactivity. She continued on her previous schedule as she’d been doing since her friend was killed, only making sure to at least sometimes talk with the people outside of her apartment. There were some good films that she saw in theatre, though she spent the whole time snogging her girlfriend, and had only assumed that the movies were “good”. There were some sports games she cheered on, some museums she visited, some books she rented - but nothing felt normal. The manic woman was beginning to realize that she’d likely never feel that way again.

More beers, more wine, more snakes at her spine, and the crucifix ever-taunting her from across the street.

For Gotham, however, the weeks were bigger than they’d been in recent history. They saw the escape of the Arkham monsters (Nygma not included, thank the Lord), they saw the rise of Fish Mooney’s escapees (undead or otherwise), and, most importantly, the catapulting of Oswald Cobblepot to the mayoral throne.

[Y/N] had long since chosen to remain oblivious to the goings-on in her hometown, having spent an exorbitant amount of time with the news droning on in her empty headspace - politics, theft, murder, mass homicide, life-threatening magicians and several attempts at axing Jim Gordon and Bruce Wayne. Then there was Theo Galavan - even for a criminal, she didn’t like him. Had she not been too afraid to leave the house, she wouldn’t have voted for him. Not that it mattered, since no one else had been alive to challenge him.

Little did she know, her ignorance would be her downfall.

“Babe, you’ve got a letter!” Chryssie called from across the apartment, sauntering into sight with silky, pink pajamas floating around her form.

[Y/N] leaned backwards to peer over the cushy loveseat she sat on, her form having been curled up over a popular sci-fi novel. She dogeared the corner of the page and set the book down on the coffee table, her lips parting slightly in surprise. “Really? Who’s it from? Not many people have gotten the memo about my new address.”

The envelope was heavy - clearly a fancy type of cardstock. She glanced over the off-white surface, her eyes catching the tiny, decorative speckles that blended into the background like an impressionist painting. The return address read ‘City Hall’.

“Ugh, government letters,” [Y/N] growled, making her girlfriend turn towards her.

The larger woman tutted, then chuckled, reaching for a pot to boil pasta in. “You probably have jury duty. Aren’t you special, babe?”

Her groans of disdain intensified, but she sliced delicately into the package, pulling out the paper that rested inside. Cramped fingers unfolded the letter, and she cleared her throat dramatically,

“Dear valued citizen,

You have been invited to a celebration of Mayor Cobblepot’s victory in the recent elections. We have hand-selected a number of individuals based on their contributions to Gotham City. The mayor’s home welcomes you to join us this following Sunday, provided this message reaches you safely. It would be an honor to have you.

No reply is needed, and plus-ones are accepted.

Warmly,

Oswald Cobblepot & Team”.

The pair couldn’t help but laugh at the card, practically bent in half with hysteria.

Chrysanthemum broke through her giggles first, “No offense, [Y/N], but what have you ever done to help this city?”

The seated woman spoke between wheezes, “Well, I was a member of the safety patrol in Junior High - clearly worthy of a Nobel Peace Prize.”

“You sure kept those hallways safe.”

“Hey! That was an important job! Think of all the collisions I stopped.”

“God forbid those clumsy preteens gently bump into each other.”

[Y/N] grew facetiously irate, “I prevented FATALITIES - I wore a BADGE! And a NEON VEST!”

Chrysanthemum paused for a moment before commenting, “Seriously, though, you probably got an invite for your work at the GCPD.”

Her partner rolled her eyes, tossing the letter onto the coffee table. “Oh yeah - my ‘work’ - delivering mochas.”

“Hey, now… We are only half as strong as our errand boys!” Chryssie exclaimed, stirring a spoon around in the pot of noodles that she’d nearly forgotten. “So what dress should I wear?”

The other woman sputtered, “W-What? I don’t want to go to this ‘party’! What if they make me wear a button? It probably wouldn’t even match my outfit. Not to mention…” She hesitated, grabbing the envelope again, pointing to the included address, “This guy isn’t celebrating in City Hall - he is partying in his house, which I’m positive is filled with breakables!”

“They need a safety patroller to stop guests from running into their precious valuables.”

“A neon vest really won’t match with anything I own…”

And so the couple decided to attend the celebration - well, one did, and the other begrudgingly followed.

The mayor’s mansion was indeed grand, and filled with fragile objects. [Y/N] kept her arms locked close to her body, and her body away from the walls - it would be just her luck to accidentally break something.

Both women wore black dresses (“In case either of us needs to don that sacred vest.”), their skirts coming to rest just above the knee, with the rest of the bodice fitted to their personal shapes and tastes. [Y/N]’s outfit, while beautiful, was slightly more conservative than her partner’s. She wondered, anxiously, if it made her appear insecure.

Of course, nobody would think anything of it, but her paranoia was potent, personal, and positively irrational.

She kept a stiff arm locked into the larger woman’s, content to let herself be dragged around, as if Chryssie was the one invited in the first place. Bodies swam gracefully between each other, every person grinning like they were actually excited to be there - [Y/N] didn’t believe it.

After awhile of being at the party, she felt comfortable enough to unwind from her girlfriend and mingle with the unfamiliar faces.

Where were the people she knew? If other precinct employees weren’t there - why was the former secretary - who left without warning and refused to answer any and all calls about her absence - invited?

The neurosis settled in full-force this time, and her shaking hand found its way back to the crook of her lover’s right elbow. Between mingling, she whispered these misgivings frantically in Chrysanthemum’s ear, but only got scoffs in return.

Frustrated, she kept her further concerns bottled up, and neglected to speak to most of the people they were now passing by.

Eventually, the feedback of a microphone drew the party-goers’ attention to the front of the room. [Y/N]’s anxiety was somewhat soothed at the hush that fell over the crowd, her senses no longer being assaulted by unrelenting stimuli. A deep breath in, and back out - she was going to get through this.

A man limped up to the mic stand following an over-exuberant introduction from a colleague. He was rather short, for the typical grown male, and had the haircut of someone far too deep into their grunge phase. His grin was proud, bordering on arrogant, but she’d already seen him an innumerable amount of times. Hard to forget the face of a known criminal and gangster when he had shown up so frequently at her place of employment.

Oswald greeted his guests, offering a sincere welcome, “Thank you all for coming - it means the world to me that I have your support…”

[Y/N] tuned out his babbling, staring politely in his direction so as to feign alertness. Absentmindedly, she noted him talking about his mother, his campaign team, and those who voted for him. She swirled the champagne around in her glass, gaze now drawn to the bubbly drink as opposed to the new mayor. Yeah, yeah - when is the buffet open? I’m starving.

“… And most of all, I want to thank my chief of staff, Edward Nygma, for believing in me, especially when it felt like no one else would. Without his faith - none of this would have been possible.”

But she didn’t hear anything past the moment when the mayor mentioned his name. Suddenly petrified, [Y/N] bent to the floor, staying on her feet as she pretended to search for an earring. Chrysanthemum had already realized the issue, crouching next to her as well. Applause erupted around them, and the larger woman grasped her friend’s hand tightly, pulling her away from the noise, their escape hidden under the cover of the crowd.

[Y/N] broke into a near-run as soon as they were out of the room. Chryssie almost had to jog to keep up with her partner, not wanting to risk the two of them being separated. Especially when she knew what was coming.

With the other woman unaware, Chrysanthemum held her breath, waiting on the edge of her seat as they finally reached the exit.

“Isn’t it a little early to be fleeing the scene? We haven’t even served dinner yet.”

[Y/N] didn’t bother turning around, she immediately placed her hand on the doorknob, twisting it with purpose. And it moved - she wasn’t locked out at all, but her girlfriend’s hand on hers rooted her inside the building. Panicked, she cast an alarmed look at Chryssie, seriously debating whether or not she wanted to physically attack her partner, but the look in the other woman’s eyes stopped her from acting.

She could see the devil in her peripherals, but she’d already made up her mind that if she didn’t look directly at him, maybe he’d cease to exist. Instead, her gaze bore deeply into her friend’s, finding grief, finding guilt, finding fear where she thought she’d find malice. Immediate remorse flooded through her - there was no way Chrysanthemum was doing this on purpose. She was no traitor.

What the fuck did he do to her?

Swallowing thickly, [Y/N] questioned her lover, “Can you tell me what’s going on? Did he hurt you?”

Chryssie’s face screwed up - silent, tense tears leaking down her cheeks. She tugged the smaller woman closer, grasping now with both hands. Her voice was quieter than feathers fluttering to the floor, “He didn’t hurt me… He said he didn’t care about me.” The couple’s eyes locked together. “But that if I cooperated, he wouldn’t hurt you.”

[Y/N]’s stomach dropped, and her palms twitched with an ugly anticipation. “You shouldn’t have worried about me. You should’ve taken care of yourself. I would never live it down if something happened to you. Maybe we could’ve gotten away.”

“You know we wouldn’t get away. We wouldn’t make it outside of the city before he found us.”

“We could have tried, Chrysanthemum! We could have tried! He’s not omnipotent-”

“He might as well be - what if we-”

Edward Nygma interjected himself back into the conversation, now standing only inches away from the couple. He fiddled with his cufflinks, giving a calculating, close-lipped smile to the both of them before he spoke, “If you two are done bickering, I have some things to attend to.” His large hand pressed against Chryssie’s shoulder, easily creating distance between the lovers. She looked confused, afraid - he enjoyed it. Always a pleasure to present dilemma to the simple-minded.

[Y/N] made a grab for her friend’s hands again, but was cut off from her side - a criminally tall man instead taking her outstretched arms. She wouldn’t look at him. She couldn’t look at him. All she saw was the green of his suit tie, and even that seemed to dissolve under the weight of her renewed trauma and overall dissociation.

“Wait, wait - what the hell are you doing?” Chrysanthemum called, trailing after the murderer as he pulled her girlfriend into a separate room, “You said you wouldn’t hurt her. Are you a liar and a crook?”

For just a moment, she had his attention, and he turned to her with a flourish, hands still tugging the stumbling [Y/N] along. Edward’s smile was dazzling as he quipped, “Naturally.”

Chryssie was removed from the mayor’s grounds shortly afterward, not being given the chance to get a word in edgewise. She caught her best friend’s gaze before a closed door blocked her from sight. Never before had she seen someone more shell-shocked in her lifetime, and she never would again. After hours of waiting outside the mansion gates, she hailed a taxi, choosing to return home after the guards threatened to call the cops on her.

[Y/N] could only wish that she were being arrested. The hard, unforgiving seat of a police car would have been a welcome comfort against the capture of Nygma.

“I honestly hadn’t expected you to run away so quickly after that day. Smart of you, though - I was a little busy with some things anyways,” Ed started, releasing one of her wrists in favor of sending a short text message. He held up a finger for a moment, as if telling her to quell her thoughts until he was finished typing.

She didn’t have any thoughts. She didn’t have any senses. Everything seemed just a little too far away from where she was standing. All she saw, all she could concentrate on was red - and it was probably her own blood, as opposed to his, that was painted across her psyche.

Long fingers folded the phone closed, placing it in his left pocket with an uncanny amount of grace. He ran a thumb along the inside of [Y/N]’s arm, humming idly.

They came to a stalemate, neither bringing forth any conversation for the sake of letting the other suffer. Unfortunately, for the smaller of the two, Edward had all the power in the situation, and he intended to get what he wanted. He always got what he wanted.

She let out a yelp, trying to pull her wrist out of his grasp as a dull thumbnail started digging angry, red circles into her skin. Her failed attempt at release only served to make his scratching all the more painful, his nail dragging down the length of her forearm as she closed her free hand around his, grabbing his middle finger and yanking it backwards until it nearly touched his carpals.

Ed let her go, his finger on the brink of breaking, and took a surprised step backwards at her sudden display of violence. He looked her up and down - this was not the same woman he left in the precinct basement, crying over her dead friend and chained to some leaky pipes. She had vanished to a far corner of the closed room, soothing the angry marks on her arm like a feral cat, licking its wounds.

[Y/N]’s lips curled back over her teeth, and she snarled as she spoke to him, “You should have died in Arkham, you evil, conniving bastard.” Her breaths came in heavy pants, scraping past her teeth so sharply that the nerves behind her enamel started to ache. “You deserve to suffer for the rest of your life, and then you should be brought back from the dead so you can suffer all over again.”

Something dark - darker than usual - passed through his scrutinizing, brown eyes. She saw the tightness in his jaw, the flexing in his neck. For a second, her fear and rage-induced bravery wavered, but she swallowed, a flagrant attempt at steeling herself against Edward.

But he didn’t advance on her, allowing the frightened woman her space, if only to help push her guard down. He kept himself in check, positive that the end would justify the means.

“I’ll allow you that one. I’m sure that you aren’t happy to see me,” He deflected, settling the topic back on [Y/N], “So how are you? It’s been quite a long time since we last met.”

Her eyes narrowed, and she took another step backwards, hands reaching out behind her for any unseen obstacles. “I think you know how I’ve been, Nygma.”

Ed clicked his tongue at her indignance, flashing a smile that hardly reached his cold, dead eyes. “Now, how are we going to understand one another if you won’t communicate with me. We didn’t keep in touch - how would I know what’s been going on in your life?”

“Because you’re smart. You know you’re smart. I know you’re smart,” She snapped, “What good does it do to tell someone what they already know?”

Another smile - this time twice as unfeeling, as unforgiving. “Humor me.”

It didn’t sound like an invitation. Everything Edward said sounded like an ultimatum. She didn’t know what she’d be sacrificing if she refused to play his games. What were the rules? How did she participate if she didn’t know what the penalties and rewards were? Her head hurt.

“I’ve been terrible,” [Y/N] started, words clipped and enunciated, but she thought better of her decision to enlighten him, “I haven’t been sleeping well. There is a draft in my bedroom.”

She watched him nod, his face feigning grief, feigning sympathy. He’d gotten his hair cut since going to prison - the shaved sides and voluminous top made his cheekbones all-the-more severe, his features all-the-more sharp. Ed had seemingly shed his geeky exterior in favor of a more threatening, business-like persona. It was sensible, she supposed, being that he was the mayor’s chief of staff - but it was much easier to have courage against a mathlete than a mobster. The woman found herself missing the days when she got to be the bully. If she’d known how events would pan out, perhaps she would’ve been meaner to him.

Begrudgingly, she wondered if being nice would’ve helped at all. It was likely that any kindness shown towards him would’ve resulted in a different, more co-dependent type of fixation.

He’s a murderer, a terrorist, a liar, a cheat, a thief, a hypocrite, a traitor, an abuser - there is no need to feel sorry for him, not even in retrospect.

He hummed, drawing the attention of his verbal opponent. “How tragic,” Edward mocked, his feet beginning to creep in her direction, “Sleep is very important to the human body, Miss [L/N]. Perhaps you need better insulation in your home? I could get you some help with that.”

“I’m quite alright, thank you. My girlfriend and I simply wear a few more layers,” [Y/N] vibrated, leaning away from him, but not wanting to box herself in a corner again.

He stopped in his forward assault about two feet in front of her. “Ah - yes, your girlfriend. You know you’re lucky, right?”

She refused to feed into his taunting, angry with herself for even mentioning Chryssie. “Yes. Very lucky. She’s terrific.”

“Chrysanthemum - a lovely name for a lovely person,” Ed drawled, caring little whether or not this woman played into his words, “She looked at her most lovely when she was begging for your life.”

He’d barely gotten his taunt through before [Y/N] launched herself at him, catching the lanky man around the waist and toppling the both of them. She reacted far quicker than he did, taking his shock as an opportunity force her palm into the underside of his nose. The man beneath her let out a cry of pain, and god did she relish that sound. It was even better the second time, when she closed both of her fists and smashed them down across the middle of his face.

He was reeling from the affliction, but thought rapidly, using her lack of grip to throw the woman off of him. This was not going as he had planned. Edward had to regain control of the situation before she ruined his plot any further. The towering male clambered back to his feet, hand pressed against his visage to soothe the aching.

[Y/N] had found footing long before he had, and used the discrepancy to put distance between them once more. “Did that hurt, you fucking moron?“ She growled, spit flying from her lips, cheeks flushed a deep shade of maroon, “I’ve seen middle-schoolers with more guts than you.”

His eyes narrowed, and he let go of his nose in a fit of egotism that he couldn’t quite catch - not that he’d ever been good at that. He sniffed, reaching for his pocket handkerchief, “Impressive, Miss [L/N], I must say that I’ve been caught quite off guard. Are you legally prepared to deal with me when I press charges against you?” Nimble fingers folded the kerchief long-ways, and he dabbed lightly at the blood that dripped from his nostrils. “I imagine your wallet isn't very well-lined from selling coffee.”

She didn’t flinch at his threats. “Go ahead - sue me. Send me to prison. I dare you,” [Y/N] barked, her hands still balled into tight, angry fists, “The only place I can think of that would keep me safer from you is death.”

“Death is not a place - it is a state of being.” Ed was then quiet for a moment, his head already leaps and bounds ahead of the woman. She was brave, yes, but she was still an idiot. “You would like that, wouldn’t you?” He quipped, his rhetoric short as he started circling around to his opponent’s side.

She mirrored him, stalking in the opposite direction to avoid letting him get too close. Her palms were beginning to sweat. Maybe she’d managed to land a good punch, but she would never be able to match him in an intellectual battle. He underestimated her - she knew that - and it was probably the only advantage she had against him.

His long legs stopped in their assault, and he changed directions, heading towards the door that they’d only just entered through. With a twist of the knob, it was open, and he stepped to the side, gesturing for her to exit.

[Y/N] squinted at him. “What the hell are you doing?”

Edward didn’t hesitate to answer. “You’re free to go.”

Her mind shut down entirely, her fists uncurled, her face unscrewed. “I’m free to go?”

Momentarily, his indifferent expression darkened. “Don’t make me repeat myself - I didn’t stutter.”

“Just what are you playing at? What am I going to find if I go out there?” Contrary to his offer of escape, she moved further away from Ed, his sudden complacence painfully suspicious.

“I’m not playing at anything. You want to leave, and I’m offering you a chance to leave.”

“That’s a load of bullshit - we both know it. What reason do I have to trust you?”

He smiled, his face lacking warmth almost entirely. In fact, the man’s personality seemed encapsulated in sub-zero temperatures. “I’m not asking for your trust, Miss [L/N], it’s something I simply don’t require…” Brown eyes settled idly on their prey, an unfriendly sort-of mirth lacing their irises. “What I’m asking is for an unwelcome woman to leave the mayor’s home.”

She bristled, but didn’t bother to test his patience any longer. Though reluctant, her unsteady legs drew past the hateful, worthless man, and she heard him follow her out of the room.

He watched her as she stiffly made her way down the front steps, [Y/N]’s entire body alight with anxiety. She paused for a moment, taking a glance backwards at him, and Edward tilted his head in acknowledgement. “I’ll be seeing you, Miss.”

Her steps quickened after his goodbye, and she had to hold back tears until she was off the property.

Chrysanthemum didn’t let go of her for a second that night, and in the following couple of weeks, she watched her companion deteriorate faster than she had after Kristen’s death.

[Y/N] quit her job. She canceled her gym membership. She gave away and donated practically all of her belongings, no matter their worth, not matter their sentimentality. She stopped speaking with friends. She stopped speaking with neighbors. She stopped leaving the apartment. She stopped communicating with her girlfriend. She stopped smiling. It hardly seemed like she breathed anymore, and she definitely didn’t sleep.

When slumber took even a moment to grace her eyelids, all she saw was Edward Nygma. It was a nightmare that she could neither wake from, nor rest from.

The familiar shape of a beer bottle found its way back into her limp grip, her body conforming into the chair that she’d spent so many long days rotting in. Tired eyes found their way back to the Catholics wandering in and out of the cathedral. And the will to live lost its way back to her heart.

She was exhausted in her lethargy. All she did was think - of ways to escape, of ways to beat him, of ways to recover, of ways to get help. There was an outright guarantee that if she even attempted to contact the police, it could mean death for the woman she loved - [Y/N] didn’t have to ask Nygma to figure that out. He meant to see her again. No one could offer sanctuary from a man that seemed to have buried his grubby hands in every niche of Gotham City. So quickly he’d managed it, too.

A happy family walked out of the doors to the church, smiles on their faces and their heads in the clouds. Inwardly, she asked herself if even God himself could save her from Ed’s disgusting, bruising clutches.

She asked herself again.

Her tongue darted out to run across chapped lips, and she set the beer bottle on the side table, rising slowly from her seat. Bare feet brought her to meet the broad face of the packed, homey-looking bookshelf. Her fingers skimmed the bindings, looking for something particular. After several moments of searching, she felt it - a worn, faux-leather covering, a little handle sticking out for ease of transport. She pulled the book from its space in the collection, warming her palm over the canvas as she brought it back to her seat, opening the aged pages with care.

Her eyes did not comprehend anything they were reading, she was so wrapped up in her thoughts. This was her chance. Maybe she could get away with this - ’God-willing’.

What. The. Fuck? Ed. You’re a prick. And… You look like a string bean. >://’ Anyways - let me know if you enjoyed this part! I’ve been working real hard on this story! Once again - I am taking requests, and would probably cry if you left me some. Also - still interested in a beta reader to help me check for continuity and grammar, ect… Love y’all. - writersindigestion

#edward nygma x reader #gotham imagine #edward nygma fanfiction #edward nygma smut #edward nygma #Cory Michael Smith #the riddler #text #mine #dc fanfiction #dc imagine #gotham fanfiction #the riddler x reader #the riddler x you #ed nygma x you #ed nygma x reader #ed nygma fanfiction #ed nygma smut

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quandaryqueen · 2 years

Text

A fool

Assault on Arkham Riddler X Reader

Reminiscing and reflecting in his cell, he just now realises the loss that had befallen him after he let you walk away.

Part II

"I threw my life away for you!"

"And I didn't ask for it! I didn't need you before, and I certainly don't need you now!"

Edward remembers how he refused to look at you when he heard your footsteps walking away. He was stubborn to acknowledge his mistakes and own up to them, and in his arrogance he lost you. His prideful self was stubborn to a degree, he was particularly irked you had the audacity to talk back to him. Of course he wouldn't have time for you, he's too busy centering his time and attention to what really matters! Revealing who Batman is! Was it too hard for your primitive brain to comprehend that he naturally wouldn't be able to spend time with you?

His last memory of you was vivid than he cares to admit. You were yelling at him for spending his nights, slaving away in his makeshift workshop to do god knows what. It escalated and you were spewing out about the life you had to leave behind to be with him. I mean... In hindsight, he really did corrupted you. Wherein he turned the Gotham City Police Department's resident timid pathologist into his little spy. You worked against crime and after the Riddler has taken interest in you and your intelligence, you began to work with crime. And indeed, you threw your life for him. You were getting involved in shoot-outs, you worked with Batman before and never have you imagined pointing your gun at him.

Should he know that he will never see you again after the incident, he would have chased after you before you can even walk out the door. Chasing after you now would certainly hit different, why now? A year after the incident, why would he choose to go after you now? You wouldn't want to see him again, the ring you left him was enough confirmation.

Now he's stuck. On a constant back and forth of suffocating himself with the dreaded memories of what he had done to you, and distracting himself to a degree he forgets about himself as well. From the last time he had access to monitoring you, you were back in Gotham, helping your friend run a café at 19th Street. You were making a living for yourself, he can only hope you would fare well even without his little anonymous helps now that he's once again incarcerated in Arkham. He has taken to forging your relative's handwritings to send you money, even if you didn't really use them. But who was he to kid? It's clear you didn't need him, he was just compensating for the fact that he thinks you need him... Like he needs you.

Wishful thinking is something he finds foolish. He has the mind for action and yet he didn't move at the right time and now it's too late.

The first time Edward caught glimpse of you, when he was captured, incarcerated. He thought nothing of you, but you certainly had an air of uncertainty in you, typical newbies of the police force. He noted how you were so damn cute (derogatory) clutching documents to your chest whilst the other hand was tightly holding on to the lanyard of your ID. It was so pathetic, because you were the one to solve his riddles and diffuse the bombs before they went off. Colour him offended and livid, because those traps weren't for you. He remembers how you looked so out of place in the Police Force. You were metaphorically smaller compared to them, the officers with their braven attitudes and golden badges.

He remembers you staring at him, wide-eyed and trembling as they load him into the police car. Could be that the sight of him made you tremble? Well, as you should. He's a terror to be reckoned with in Gotham after all. He thought that would be the end of it, but then a few days later, when he settled in Arkham, you visited him.

"How are you?" You said, as if greeting him like an old friend.

Previously, your encounter was more than unpleasant even to recall— how he was abrasive towards you. Tsk, so what? Are you not afraid of him after what he has done to you?

"What they did to you um... It is unacceptable. Officers shouldn't resort to manhandling no matter the situation. Y-you were cooperative a few days ago and there was no need for brash methods—" oh? So it was the brutality you were concerned with... He was so used to it he didn't even acknowledge it. "— I-uh... Mister Riddler, I reported it to the higher-ups and are doing something about it. I apologize on their behalf, sir."

He was irritable, still recovering from the humiliation that is, his defeat that lead to his imprisonment and here you are, rubbing salt in his wounds. It was insulting how damn arrogant you were (at least it's what his arrogant brain sees back then.) But in hindsight, it's the first time someone had looked out for him.

After the one-sided talk in Arkham, all he could ever think about was you. Thoughts of murdering you when he escapes, of course, he wasn't as lovesick as he is now. But boy, was his obsession with you strong. He didn't call it obsession back then, he would flare if one were to point it out to him. It was not obsession, it was simply fueling passion for revenge! Wouldn't you monitor your object of hatred to pinpoint the perfect opportunity to skin them alive, grind their flesh into pellets and feed it to their pet?

This 'passion' has led to numerous encounters. Moments where you happen to be held hostage along with others in a bank heist held by the Riddler, in a restaurant, in a park... It happened more than enough that you begin to sigh at the sight of him. And there he was, blaming the circumstances for the reason why he couldn't get rid of you.

Soon, the meetings were no longer under ruinous circumstances and he finally started to approach you alone, without his henchmen or any weapons. No weapons? Why, he thinks it would be fun to pop your head off with his bare hands.

There you were again, acting as if he were an old friend no matter how many times he had held your life and dangled it in front of you. Greeting him with a wave and upon further squinting, he'd spot a shy smile on your countenance.

These, well, he suppose that in hindsight, these are what he would consider as 'dates'. The idle talking. Most of him was just talking his ass off while you listen. And you didn't mind. Finding someone like you was a rarity, he doesn't think he has ever spoken with his voice going unheard-of in full, you were quite the best listener.

Then as these transpire, it came to him naturally that your presence was something he deems valuable. Apparently, you thought the same. It would be long until your feelings have been revealed, not that he tries to conceal it— he's always been open about his attraction to you, it's just that back then you thought it was just him being him... But less mean. He didn't mind that these transactions are, what he thought was one-sided, as having you by his side is enough... A lie he told himself to sleep at night, but what else could he do?

Well, your feelings would be revealed— yearning he has for you was returned and he couldn't be more elated, ecstatic. Another unsuccessful heist, he didn't quite put up a fight with the Batman and he was once again reincarcerated in Arkham... But then, you came.

It was reminiscent that of Harley Quinn's infamous tale with the Joker when Edward heard your side of the story. You told him you were at the verge of crying and no amount of evidence tampering could break him out of Arkham, and so you resorted to donning a uniform, an identity. Quandary, as the Riddler fondly called you in private, has became a second skin to you that day.

There, the first kiss also happened. Eddie was shocked himself to be the one initiating it. Heat of the moment kind of thing. The first time you broke him out of Arkham, it was at the perfect time. He was so ecstatic he could kiss you... It came to his shock that he did, and he is glad he did. Recalling it made him yearn for your lips again... The way it perfectly meld with his and how natural it felt. Like two puzzle pieces, you fit well together. The way he pulled you by the collar of your shirt and he pulled away cheering while you stood, stunned. At first he thought he had crossed a line with you, and he broke into a stammering stupor. Then you had to step in and prove him wrong. It was his turn to be stunned, the way you gripped the collar of his shirt and how ardent you were, that he knew you were as desperate for him.

After that, you remain an employee under the police force whilst concealing your new identity as Quandary, The Riddler's right hand. Even the Batman hasn't figured you out and you went out for so long without being captured in Arkham. As your work in the GCPD, you've come to take advantage of your environment and experience— such as the time you were pointed as a suspect when they found your fingerprints in the scene. With a little manipulation, you managed to point the blame on your drug-addicted senior pathologist and his negligence that he collected the wrong DNA samples due to his heightened senses during the investigation. They released you from their suspicions and you've became the leading pathologist.

Edward was so, so proud of you. His intelligent Quandary... His Y/N.

Life with you was never dull to him... And he thought he'd never see the day to admit and call himself a fool for letting you go.

#Arkham Riddler X reader #edward nigma #edward nygma #riddler x reader #assault on arkham #edward nashton x reader #edward nygma x reader #assault on arkham riddler

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quandaryqueen · 2 years

Text

Fools Part II

Assault on Arkham Edward Nygma X Reader

After escaping a draining relationship, you find a way to restore the previous fervour for life... But fate had other plans.

Prepare yourself, this is going to be a long one.

Part I

"Oooh~" Coos Harley Quinn in intrigue. You try your best to remain apathetic, turning away and pretending you did not notice her. "I spy with my little eye, the Riddler's sweetheart!"

It irked you. Riddler's sweetheart? It's been a year since you walked away from him, but Harley does not have a way to know. It's not like a hiatus of Quandary can tell her of your split from Edward. You sigh, dropping the act. Of course Harley Quinn is here and of course, she just had to announce your presence.

"Quinn." You begrudgingly acknowledge her.

The former psychiatrist giggles before she launched herself to cling on your neck. "How's it goin' Quandie?"

"All was well until this happened." Or should I say, after this will happen. Whatever does Amanda Waller need you for? You've been clean for the past year, what could she possibly want from you?

With that revelation, everyone now knew that the casually-clothed person among them was the Riddler's former sidekick. Just your luck. It came to some fellow night crawlers that the Quandary's real identity is obscured despite being as well-known as the Riddler. Everyone knows who the Riddler is, Edward Nygma, but Quandary? Who knows? The only known details about them is their repertoire of prowess, the public debated that the mysterious figure is a multi-talented individual...

Who would have thought Y/N L/N, co-owner of the quaint cafe in 19th Street is Gotham's most wanted criminal Quandary? Amanda Waller apparently.

Ever since you walked out of the Riddler's workshop, slipped your ring off, you've abandoned your identity. You were no longer the Quandary to his Riddler and you were no longer L/N-Nygma. Everything was going fine without him but then these people decided to fuck you over. You've yet to know what was up, but fuck it, things like these succeed in seldom.

Introductions are far from needed, everyone seems to be getting along already, the nanobomb in your neck can attest to the bind of your new friendship. One quarell, aka distraction and boom. KGBeast's head was blown up, but all's fun. Escaping was out of the option, now that you're a member of the Task Force X. The hope of living normally again was taken away the moment you were finally well-adjusted back to society. Now you're sitting in the floor with six other criminals, excluding the guy whose head was blown off the moment he tried to go against Amanda Waller.

She started the meeting with a heavy one, "You're going to break in Arkham Asylum."

Sure, you have no problem with that, you've studied its structure for the benefit of breaking your former husband out, along with some of his friends. Quandary was the reason why Arkham now utelises motion lights in every corner. You can break in, with teammates surely it won't be as difficult even if their reactions vary from disbelief, namely Black Spider, Killer Frost, Captain Boomerang and King Shark, and of course enthusiasm from Lawton and Quinzel. With a wide array of teammates, consider it done.

"A week ago while in my employ, a lowlife calling himself the Riddler managed to gain access to my computer system."

Well shit. Pfft, of course Waller needs you in a way that can be held leverage to Edward. Not that he cares anyway, she would just be wasting her time if she thought she can utelise you against him. You have moved pass Edward but... What was he up to? What benefit would grant him to post information about the suicide squad? He couldn't care less for fellow convicts... Unless, of course, he needed something else from Waller. A dirt of sorts. Edward is not above doing blackmail, so no doubt blackmailing Amanda Waller really is his goal.

She continues. "He downloaded a file containing the identities and histories of every current, past and potential members of the suicide squad. He's threatning to release them all in the internet. You're going to get it back. Riddler's got one copy, and it's on a thumb-drive in his cane. Which is currently locked away in the Arkham property room."

"In the intensive treatment building right under the solitary confinement cells... Good times, ain't it, Quandie?" She turns to you with a certain fondness at the mention of Arkham.

You cannot reciprocate her nostalgia, you have never been incarcerated in Arkham. Your means of entering the building was only breaking some fellow criminals out for your benefit.

"Sure." You can only answer to Quinzel's musings with a void of interest.

"So we'll get someone inside," Deadshot chimes in.

"Is it me? Can it be me? Dibs!" Harley cheerfully exclaims, before she once again latches herself on you. You fail to hide the blantant irritation in your eyes as she shook you excitedly. She couldn't care less about your vexation. "Come on, Quandie! It'll be just like old times!"

You only broke in Arkham with her once and you weren't particularly thrilled about it. She wasn't really serious when you needed her to.

"Harley Quinn and Quandary both have encyclopedic knowledge of Arkham's layout and its logistics." Amanda Waller adds. "You'll be snuck into Gotham. You will rendezvous with a power broker who will set you up for the break in. This is as off the grid it gets, so keep the body count minimum. Deadshot, rubber bullets only."

"What about the bats?" Lawton brings up a good point. Ahh, Bats. You really didn't miss him.

"He has his hands full on another case. In fact if we get it right, we might be able to take advantage of him." After that, she begins to saunter off.

The last thing you remember was Amanda Waller scoffing in amusement, before turning away. "Gas them."

Then, you awoke, situated beside Black Spider and strapped to your seat. Amanda Waller once again wanted to present the complete control she has by dropping you in individual boxes and refused to open the parachutes until the last minute. Once the chaos has somewhat subsided, you were deployed to Gotham and arrived in the Power broker Amanda had mentioned via the sewers to avoid the Bat's radar. You were told he's kept busy but it was better safe than sorry. The aforementioned power broker was someone by the name of Oswald Cobblepot. All were a blur to you, but you only became more aware of your surroundings after dinner.

Harley was urging you to "catch up" over a glass of wine, but you declined. And to avert her attention away from you, you pointed at Lawton. Hopefully he doesn't mind her floundering about around him for your peace and quiet.

Harley wasn't the only one interested in mingling with you, in the form of Digger Harkness thinking you're a lovely little sport, draping his arm on your shoulder with a steinbif beer in hand.

"Oi, L/N! Care to join us for a pint?"

"No." Blunt and straightforward, you hoped it was enough to drive a point and yet he doesn't get it.

"Oh c'mon now, loosen up." He drawls, his weight relying on yours for balance.

Since simple refusal were already hard to comprehend for his sloshed state, you opted for an action that spoke louder. You grab his wrist and pried it off you, before taking a step aside causing him to stumble. You left with a huff, taking indignant steps to your room.

On your way back, you pass between Killer Frost and King Shark. You paid no mind to them, they seem to be getting along quite well despite the misstep in their introduction when Nanaue tried to take a bite of Louise. You didn't notice their heads turn to your direction when you cut between them, brows furrowing as to why you looked as though steam was coming out of your ears.

You arrive at your door but as you twist the knob, someone calls you by your alterego. You need not turn, you knew it was the Black Spider.

"What is it?" You turn to him, hands resting on the doorknob, just wanting to make this quick.

He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed to his chest. You hoped that this will not further spiral downwards to a full interrogation, you needed your sleep for fuck's sake.

"I was made aware of your previous affiliations with the target. Rumours also state that your relationship with the Riddler were... personal."

What the fuck does he mean by that? Wait, nevermind. With his tone, you already knew where this was going. And you can't fault him.

"You heard right. If you need assurance that I won't screw this operation up simply because of my forfeited connection with Nygma, you needn't worry. Our days together are over."

He seems to be satisfied with your answer. "Good. Just making sure we don't have another lovesick Quinzel."

"Right, I see where you're coming from." And by god, you hoped that Quin doesn't encounter Joker. "It's that all?"

"Yes. Thank you for humouring me." And with that, he turned to the corridor and was no longer there.

Finally, you were able to get inside your room and collapse on the bed.

All those months you stay clean from crime, you steer yourself in a better direction in life after a decade of experience with Edward. It was pathetic that you blamed it all on him back then. It was your choice to tamper with evidences pointing at the Riddler back in your GCPD Pathologist days, it was your choice to break him out of Arkham, it was your choice to follow him in life of a crime. You chose to become Quandary. It was your choice to become a fool.

Admittedly, it was fun while it lasted. The chaos you stirred with him, the riddles, god the riddles... You would be lying if you said you didn't miss them... It's been a year, why does it still hurt? The relenting absence of his presence in your life continues to persists and hinder your daily life. It hurts the same the moment you walked out his life. Your finger has been itching without the wedding band on it and you tried once to wear a different to fill in the sense of its absence, but it didn't felt the same. You tried to force it in yourself to move on and yet everything reminded you of him. And now you're presented the opportunity to see him again. Or is it? I mean, the mission isn't him, it's retrieving the copy of the documents he downloaded.

After tossing and turning, every hour that pass made you more restless. Frustration had you shooting up from the bed and rummage through the drawers. Surely the Penguin kept some sleeping pills in these rooms? To you chagrin, it didn't. You huff out it disappointment, once again seating yourself on the corner of your bed. Sleepless nights aren't new to you, the bouts insomnia brought by the circumstances you find yourself in. It really didn't help that you just downed a cup of caffeine to ease your headache. A glance at the clock by the bedside table informed you it was too late to sleep. It looks like you'll be downing another bottle of energy drink to keep yourself active in this suicide mission.

With no other choice, you bend to reach for the bag under the bed where your Quandary uniform has been kindly fetched from your apartment. It was ensured that they have done so discreetly, you've contacted your friend awhile ago to inform them of your absence, as if you were gone for a mundane trip. A rush of emotions flooded you, the uniform in your grasp remained the same after you had put it away.

You don't know what will happen, but you doubt this was a simple "retrieve and leave" kind of thing. Amanda Waller recruited you of all people, the fact that Edward is here and knows your relationship with him. Well... previous. But it solidifies your suspicion that she might be using you against him.

The arrival in Arkham is the cathartic one, of course. From the delay of the planting of the device to sneak yourself in Arkham due to Harley Quinn encountering her ex much to your chagrin, the guards, the cooperation of the team (lack thereof) and of course, your lackluster of a performance in the battlefield. Amanda Waller had instructed a minimal amount of body count and that didn't go well. Lawton and Harkness were in their bouts of their one-sided dick measuring contest, making a fool of themselves in the process and causing an officer to radio in an emergency alert.

There was a protruding vein on your temple, pulsating with frustration. Perhaps working alone was more of your thing, breaking into Arkham isn't this difficult for you with enough prep time. It took you all will power not to walk off and just go home. If it weren't for the nanobomb administered at the back of your neck, you would have ditched. Not to mention, you do not look forward to possibly encounter Eddie. You really did not want a repeat of Harley Quinn encountering the Joker.

Thankfully, it has been managed, your headache subsided and the only thing left for you to do was to retrieve the cane from the property room.

"Bingo," was uttered monotonously under your breath upon spotting the Riddler's crate of property. Deadshot followed behind, helping you pry the crate's lid. There, you found the main objective. Stacked atop myriads of books and complicated puzzles, the Riddler's cane.

You watch Lawton picked up the cane, but instead of opening the passage at the tip of the modified handle of the cane, he hands it to you.

"You open it."

You blink owlishly at him from the lense of your dark visors and obeyed, reaching the for question mark-shaped cane. You twist the section of the cane, the spherical, compact make-shift storage of the supposed thumb-drive. Everyone watched in anticipation as you twist it open, only for it to be empty, replacing the anticipation with shock... At least to them, it was empty of the target they intend to retrieve, but to you, it wasn't.

In the storage, was your and his wedding bands. You had your mask to hide to dumbfounded look on your face. A certain dread racked your entire body, quivering from the cold. Was it always this cold?

He... He kept it all this time?

You thought he would have thrown them away or sold it off, he told you weren't significant for him to waste an ounce of his time to think about you. You weren't worth the time to be considered to be an object of sentiment, he often chastised you for being overly sentimental and yet... He must've not had time to dispose of them, that's the only answer. He made it clear you were unnecessary in his life— but why would he go an extra mile to store your rings together in his cane?

You've long since shut down and did not notice everyone around you in a surge of panic. Killer Frost was missing, Deadshot pointed out how she was eyeing patient's cells— Eddie's cell in the security room. The rest of the team has caught on to the fact that this mission isn't about retrieving the thumb-drive. Edward knows something, he knows everything. He hacked Waller's system and fuck, you doubt it was about retrieving what he stole. He already seen them, read them, probably had it mentally noted. Why steal the documents back, when you can silence him? And with that realisation, you immediately pocketed the rings and made a mad dash towards the wing of Arkham patients.

Unfortunately, the chaos you've caused from the break-in had resulted into summoning Arkham's special forces, aka, the ones with the shields and guns, and will shoot if you don't cooperate. If only your break-in was silent, this could've been less loud. Thankfully, Waller has yet to find out about it.

You spot Killer Frost and... Him in a bit of a pickle, having been surrounded by the special forces, lacking any defense other than a broken slab of what used to be and what should be a wall. Things would have escalated from there if you didn't arrive with weapons and defenses.

This was the nearest you could ever come to Edward, the deep seated feeling of feelings were ignored and shoved further down by busying yourself with shooting back at the special forces. Harley was the only one who squinted at you for reaction and even if your face was concealed, she knows you were pushed in a tumultuous corner. That, and the fact that your aim was off.

As for Edward, try as he may to play it cool but to see you again... It does make memories resurface. Mainly, your last moments together, he was unsure how to approach. Would it make sense to approach you? Well, in his excuse, he knows that the only reason why you're here, is because of him. What else could it be? Of course Waller was going to use you against him, that's the oldest trick in the book. Or maybe it was the fact that you were a highly efficient jack of all trades.

"You were supposed to off him as instructed by Waller, correct?" Your voice was heavy with voice modulation built within your mask, but the shiver down in Edward's back was all the same. "Care to tell us why you spared him?"

"Yes. He says he knows how to turn off the bomb." Killer Frost says, side-eyeing the Riddler as if asking him to back her up.

And that he did, turning around and lowering the collar of his Arkham inmate uniform. On his nape, was the similar X mark where the bombs were implanted.

"Look familiar?" He says. "I can do it, but you have to get me to the medical bay."

"We got maybe five minutes before Waller figures out what's what." Deadshot says. You sense the improbability of that happening, since the threat of the special forces are barely neutralised. "We get to that room, or we're dead."

"We should've brought a tank." What Digger thought was a mere sarcastic quip, ended up being somewhat helpful.

"We have one." Lawton firmly pointed out, before glancing at King Shark.

Thankfully, there were no further arguements that ensued. Nanaue was particularly blunt in terms of revealing his fear of heights, but thankfully Killer Frost was there to offer her guidance. A ripped piece of fabric did the trick and some of Killer Frost's guidance, King Shark was finally able to eliminate the threat of the special forces. Soon, you were on the move for the med bay.

Edward practically burst in the medical bay, making a beeline straight to the complex control panel and monitors and began twiddling away. His voice was nonchalant, as he goes about things as casually.

"Let's see now, we need this on, this for back up..." He mutters to himself, then turns to all of you. "Grab a chair."

And so you did. You were wary of this little operation of his, seeing as the med bay contains a lot of things. Knowing Edward, oh lord, anything can be a weapon for this man. God knows, maybe the whole thing is an elaborate ruse for him to kill you... You took a seat nonetheless. Black Spider took his place by the window, keeping a lookout.

"How do you diffuse this bomb exactly?" Lawton asks, he must've had the same doubts as you were.

"It's the electro shock."

"The what now?" Boomerang raises a brow.

"I'm gonna run a thousand bolts through your head and fry your bombs." You can only watch with narrowed gaze as Edward gathered wires with pads meant to stick to your body. God, this doesn't bode well with you. "Good, now put your chairs around a circle around old sparky here."

You settle on your seat, white-knuckling the armrest as he goes around, distributing the adhesive pads and strapping your fellow inmates one by one. Everyone had stressed the fact that they were wary of whatever this operation is, Edward seems to be confident. You hated how he didn't take too long to get to you and god, the tension was already suffocating before.

"Lose the mask, Y/N." His voice was light, sweet even. It was sickening.

First of all, how dare he act as if you're back to first name basis and second, why is he pretending as if nothing happened?

But you complied, slipping your mask off and shaking your hair in place.

Edward knows how to keep things internal, so it wasn't that noticeable when he froze. To see you in your uniform was one thing, but seeing you take your mask off, be Y/N... You were as beautiful as the last he's saw you.

"Any conductives in your pockets?"

"O-Oh um..." Fuck, you didn't expect your voice to come out like that. Shy, flustered even. Your eyes refused to meet his. Not to mention, how you fumble to retrieve something in your pocket.

The confidence front he's cultivated cracked for a split-second, having bee caught off-guard when you handed him your wedding rings. He didn't expect you to keep it in your pocket after you collected the cane from the property room, where the supposed hard-drive was in.

You look up for the first time, his face sunken with solemnity. He must be deep in thought to pause like this, his eyes fixed on the rings that you placed on his palm. Not a word was spoken in the room, you couldn't sense the other presence and the eyes that were on you. The only person you could see was your lost love and how you sense his feelings. However, you wish not to prolong this stupid fucking personal stuff. It would be hypocritical of you to roll your eyes at Harley for being emotional at the sight of Joker, but here you were, unable to find your bearings before the Riddler.

"You can strap me down now."

"Of course." And just like that, you clicked the Riddler in place and his typical bravado returns.

He first pockets the bonds, before he binds you down. He was gentle, making sure the restraints weren't too constricting. He can't have your skin chaffed from his carelessness.

"It'll all be okay." His hands lingered longer than he intended, slender digits relishing the warmth that he missed. But he pried himself off before he can get carried away.

Goosebumps erupted from your skin when his fingers traced along your arm and you resisted the incoming shiver that came with it. It was already bad enough that your personal bygones were coming back in full screen before fellow rogues and not to mention, how it hinders.

All the grudge just suddenly disappeared and you didn't know why. He didn't even said he was sorry, nor do you even see it ever coming and yet you were ready to forgive him... Better yet, you already forgave him. And you were angry at yourself at the fact that you fell for him, hell, even before you can see him again. When you found the rings tucked away in the secret storage of the cane, you were at a back and fourth between your skepticism and optimism, the fact that he must've kept it because how it meant to him. And seeing him freeze when you present him the ring further solidifies that he had indeed kept it due to sentiments.

As of cue, Waller calls the leader, Lawton, but that didn't stop Edward from working. He broke off a piece of wood from a mop as a makeshift silencer for each of you. When he assist you with yours, you avert his gaze. You didn't want another repeat of the pause between you, especially when Waller is already on-call with Lawton and he's doing a bad job lying to save all your asses.

All was prepared, Waller was on the line and the electric shock was bumped to the appropriate setting, distributing electricity equally among you. A scream would have ripped itself loudly from your lungs if it weren't for the piece of wood between your teeth. Edward can only watch you convulse on your seat with a wince, his chest being ripped from the sound of your muffled pain. A few seconds more and he turns off the machine.

Your body slumped over and with your ragged breathing, the wood fell from your lips. The room stenched with smoke and you swore you saw stars dotting your vision whilst the electricity was coursing through your skin.

"Fuck, that better be it." Your voice came out from your squeezed throat.

"I'm never doing that again." Boomerang pants, eyes squinted in pain.

"Are you kidding? I feel great!" Typical Harley.

"Are you okay, Y/N?" Edward asks, voice laced with worry.

"Why'd his head explode?"

You didn't get the chance to respond, hearing a familiar beeping beside you, coming from King Shark.

"Uh... Guys?" Nanaue utters nervously.

"Run it again!" Killer Frost barks, her voice raspy.

"I don't know, maybe he has thick skin?" Edward says, voice different from when he spoke to you, as he was more nonchalant at the face of emergency.

And before you knew it, a clot blood shot at your direction and King Shark's metal mouthpiece shot forward, almost hitting Lawton and piercing through the wall. Upon opening your eyes, the figure beside you was now headless.

"Because the bomb in his neck neck didn't diffuse, you asshole." Killer Frost snaps at Boomerang.

"So what's his excuse?" Digger glances at Black Spider, who stood by the window with his head intact.

"Ohoho, that's rich..." Everyone glanced at Edward. "Haven't you solved it yet? The Black Spider, is Batman!"

Without warning, he pulls out a Glock from his pocket and began shooting towards who you thought was the Black Spider. His aim was sloppy, giving Batman a window of opportunity to throw a batarang at him, resulting to him stumbling back and accidentally twisting the control panel, activating the electro shock again.

With no muffler, screams filled the room and when you said you couldn't take a single shot of electricity in your system, you meant it. The mission was a complete shitshow, your body hurts, Batman now knows your identity, somehow it had gotten worse when the fucking Joker appeared shooting shots and throwing marble-like bombs.

You break free from your restraints from the excessive thrashing, thankfully Edward didn't made it all too tight. You yank adhesive wire off your temples, breathing heavily in amidst the smoke filled room. Upon slipping your mask back on, you pull Edward's unconscious body out of the room. You find yourself separated from the Task Force X when you got yourself and Edward in a secluded spot in the asylum. At this point, you couldn't care less about them, nor the mission. As if you'd fulfill the real mission, Waller can fucking suck it.

"Hey," you didn't hold back smacking Edward's face to wake him up. "Get up, I'm busting you out." You only stopped when you heard him sputter, his eyes shooting open and blinking rapidly to adjust his vision.

"What happened?"

"Your aim was shitty and Batman subdued your threats. You could've watched where you hand landed, I thought I'd throw up blood after that second dose of electric shock." You groan, throwing your head back and cracking it. "Look, we need to get out. The bomb's already diffused, Arkham's about to be hell and transportation will be difficult to obtain."

"Any ideas?" You rose a brow at his question.

"Aren't I supposed to be asking you that question?"

"Between you and I, you're far knowledgeable than I in this field."

He is still enamoured at the memory of you breaking him out of here for the very first time. And to be reunited through these circumstances, it almost felt poetic, walking back through memory lane.

You didn't realise you already had your mask on, looking away from him to conceal the rushing heat spreading across your face.

"Alright then," you cleared your throat. "There's a chopper, but I doubt that we'd get there especially with our lack of weapons. Arkham is presumably going to undergo a lockdown from the break-in."

"How did you even get in?" He asks.

"Penguin gave us a hand. Had a strategy catering to our roles and abilities, some of us entered disguised as staffs—" you paused, eyes widening at an epiphany. "Heh... I got it. Let's get you out of that uniform, shall we?"

Edward smirks, the long-lost warm feeling spreading across his finally returning to him, reigniting the feeling he thought he'd never feel again. He's partial to following ones lead, but he doesn't have any problem following you because in no time, Arkham Asylum was no longer in sight. You got yourself saddled in a stolen car and booked it.

"I missed you. There was no passing moment wherein I didn't think of you. You simply had an impact on me, I can't the deny the fact that I relied on you so much that I forget to do some things." Edward blurts amidst the drive, solemn eyes remaining in the road. Your neck practically snap at his direction. "I'm sorry I... I was acting like a fool."

Your tense shoulders grew lax. "Oh Eddie..."

"I truly am sorry, Y/N. I recognise that I don't deserve your forgiveness but I want you to know how regretful I am to let you go by letting myself go. I was wrong in a lot of aspects and I should have listened to you instead of being stubborn." Oh shit, he was admitting to being wrong.

"Eddie..." My love. "I forgive you. And I missed you too." You didn't expect your voice to crack. "I deny it to myself, but every waking moment I yearn for you and sometimes I'd see you at the corner of my eye and mistake strangers as you... I wanted to crawl back to you and beg you to take me back, but I was scared of getting hurt again—" Fuck, here comes the waterworks.

"Shh, hey," his hand reaches to cup your face, thumb gently running under your eye to swipe the tear away. "I'm sorry that I made you feel that way... I promise to be better."

You reach for the hand that caressed you, lacing your fingers between his and placing a kiss on his palm. "You promise?"

"I'm a man of my word." He doesn't know what he said wrong, that you started to laugh through tears. "What's funny?" He asks with a slight chuckle.

"This whole thing... It's so foolish."

"Why do you think that?"

"The fact that we're only getting back together after the worst thing has happened to us."

"That doesn't sound foolish to me. It's love."

"Well then, love is foolish."

Edward smiles, relieved that you were finally by his side again. He stops the car over the edge of a cliff, the ray of sunrise peaking from the horizon. He looks at you with sunset eyes, and leans forward. You meet him in the middle, automatically melting into his warmth. He couldn't bare to pull away even if the kiss was over, his forehead pressed against yours.

"Then I suppose we're both fools." With every word, his lips touched yours, before diving in for another kiss.

#edward nashton x reader #edward nygma #edward nigma #riddler x reader #edward nygma x reader #dc x reader #dc x you #assault on arkham riddler #assault on arkham #assault on arkham Riddler X Reader

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