#please codot

[lost-in-fandoms1999]

I can see this happening between Codotverse Jonathan and Codotverse Edward and I need it so bad.

It takes a lot to make Scarecrow laugh.

Riddler getting his hand stuck in a chinese finger trap?

Absolutely hilarious.

[roguish-ramblings]

AFTER EIGHY YEARS JTS FINALLY DONE

This very amateur animation I’ve finished of one of Codot’s clips from his podcast, one of my favorites. I hope y’all like it-

Please go to @codotafterdark (if you are OF AGE) and support his work!!!

-Mun: E

[acapelladitty]

Do you know what I need? Scriddler fic but Scarecrow is the bottom...like Codotverse. Please I would actually die

First of all, I do have some decent Crane bottoming fic which can be found littered across my AO3.

Secondly, I don't claim to be an expert on the Codotverse but I don't recall hearing Crane having his back blown out by anyone because I'm pretty sure that would have been brought to my attention at least once.

Third, I think you're getting confused because bottoming is actually that special thing that Codot only does when I bat my eyelashes and ask very nicely 👉👈🥺

[skxtchyghost]

The codotverse thing sounds so interesting… can you pretty please tell me about it

WHY YES OF COURSE!!

(i suck at talking about my interests and expressing my thoughts and feelings so please bear with me)

THE CODOTVERSE, created by our lovely Codot and Dee, who have blessed us with the brilliant "Rogues! The Podcast" podcast.

Starting off with dear Edward answering (tumblr) questions, we slowly dive into a story that gets better and better the further you're in, introducing Jonathan (and many many other cool rogues) after some time and diving more into their characters.

The voice acting is fantastic, the story super fun and interesting and I was pretty much invested the whole time. I don't think there was an episode that I didn't like..

[fallenfortheniche]

Scriddler Poll

If you ship Scarecrow x Riddler

If you’re willing to go into more detail please do so in a reply or reblog! I’m trying to gather as much information as I can about Scriddler’s origin in Fandom so every detail helps.

And if possible please add in year or general time you started shipping them.

[ednito]

I am so sorry you're getting anon hate for expressing an opinion. Some Codot fans are completely rabid about this stuff (I knew one IRL who acted the same way, couldn't stand them). Stay cool and I hope you have a good day!

Thank you! And I actually had a really awesome day! Even with what's been going on here-

I feel bad for some of these people, because it's clear there's some issues going on with them and so they blindly latch onto stuff for comfort and I completely understand that emotional anguish their feeling but sweethearts- please take a minute to step back. Like take a moment for yourself off the internet and calm down, your just hurting yourself and digging your grave bigger ya know?

Either way, I'm not angry at anyone! I just hope they take a break from all this and take care of themselves yeah?

[mwildeboyii]

Can anyone take out of my brain the Codot version o Love Shack with Riddler and the girls? I mean, I cant stop imagine they on a karaoke together 😞😞😞

@voiceboss get freaking out of my brain, please.

[shlorky-bugz]

MESSAGE FOR CODOT: please…I beg of you. Pretty pretty please with a whole lota’ chopped nuts chocolate syrup and a cherry on top make a discord! Pleasepleasepleaseplease please! It would be so cool! (This is only if you want to of course and if you even manage to see this post 😭🫶)

[lunar-scapes]

November seems to be holding us all in its death grip. I’m so sorry Codot I’m wishing you so much good luck, please take care of yourself when you can. You deserve a smoother path to comfort and success, you have so many people out here that support you.

Only the best of wishes!!!

Welp, that’s me out.

Hard drive failure just cost me the last fourteen years of voice work I’ve done.

Poof.

Lost my voices, my sound effects, my music, my scripts, my WIPs.

Everything.

So to the folks who loved to see me fail, today is your lucky day.

Adios. xx

[kanonsarchivedblog]

Stress Relief

Word Count: 2,070

Genre: Smut

Rating: E

Character: Edward Nygma/The Riddler

Author's Note: I have absolutely no reason to have written this, other than the fact that my partner has drug me down into the depths of DC Hell. And I started listening to Codot's work again.

That, and I really adore the concept of Eddie being demisexual and viewing sex/seduction as a form of a weapon to get information.

Warnings: None

━━━━━━━━━━━━

❝You say I'm bawling; I say I'm begging while you take my photo, If fake my breaking smile.❞

━━━━━━━━━━━━

��Please, don’t stop.” The voice was a gasp- a tease, a smirk curling their lips up, breathless and bloodied. “Choke me harder. I know you can. You aren’t that weak, are you, Riddler?” They had taunted, even as their voice hitched, genuine fear flitting through their gaze as the cane pressed harder against their windpipe, making them splutter and gasp.

They got away.

But that’s because he let them. A game, that’s what this was. A fun little game that they enjoyed playing. It wasn’t the first time, nor would it be the last. Oh, he’d played this game many times- both with and without the acts of violence. Tilting his head left, then right, listening to the satisfying pops that filled the air as his neck popped. He rolled his shoulders slowly, feeling the tension that settled between them, deep in the tissue, nearly in the bone. He’d be sore, come morning. Nothing that a good hot shower and a decent night’s rest couldn’t help. Maybe one or two glasses of wine to spice things up.

A chuckle slipped past split lips as he worked his gloves off, flexing his fingers once they were freed of the leather grip. He’d gotten the information he wanted- that yes, that damned fool had escaped and was planning on paying a jester a visit. Which meant getting her out of the city soon, lest they end up with another fight blown out of proportion on their hands.

Someone would kill the Joker one of these days.

Who knows, maybe he’ll do it himself. Wouldn’t that be funny? To finally rid Gotham of that ridiculous copycat who couldn’t tell a joke to save his damned life, so he ripped Scarecrow off and created his own “toxin”- a laughing gas. What an idiot.

Dinner could wait. A hot shower sounded far better than anything else at the moment. Rolling around in the muck of Gotham’s side streets and alleyways was not his ideal form of cleanliness. This suit would need to get dry cleaned- soon. Tomorrow, hopefully. Perhaps he could have Echo drop it by with her and Query’s clothing. He’d shoot her a message later on about that; at this time, she’d be at her yoga class. Query would be cooking them dinner- or out getting dinner. One or the other.

Emerald gaze settled upon the reflection within the mirror, giving him pause. Bruises had already begun to form on freckled, pale skin; Gotham was no place to get sun, sadly. Then again, if he got too much sun, he’d burn- and that would be bad. Curse the genetics of the Irish. Head tilting slowly, his gaze tracked across the bruises that littered his front. The dot of the question mark scar had a bruise forming over it; an accent piece. Snorting, he shook his head and made to turn, only to pause-

Bruises around his throat were forming. Huh. He didn’t realize that when he was getting choked out, it had been that tight. Curious. Reaching up, he idly pressed against the tender flesh, a soft sound escaping him. Swallowing roughly, he turned away from his reflection to reach into his shower. Hot water poured from the showerhead- a rain showerhead, specifically. It actually hadn’t been his idea- the house came with them pre-installed, the previous owner having had a penchant for treating themself.

He can’t complain. It’s nice.

Steam began to build as he lingered, carefully examining the other scrapes and bruises that were appearing like a child drawing across a canvas with a red crayon. Nothing too deep- no stitches or butterflies needed. Not worth a trip to The Good Doctor, not tonight. Which works for him- he didn’t want to traverse across Gotham again, not in this shitty weather. As if on cue, thunder rumbled overhead. A thing for the dramatics- not his style. No, that belonged to the Batman and his little birdies.

Bruce Wayne. Just a human who happens to have a penchant for not dying.

Stepping into the warm spray of water, a sigh that would have made a nun blush echoed throughout the bathroom. It was nearly euphoric- the warmth, how his muscles began to relax. Ivy had given him eucalyptus to hang from the shower head, and oh, how they helped; the room already smelled like a spa thanks to the leaves. Reaching up, Edward drug his hands through red locks, wincing as his fingers brushed a tender spot near his temple where he’d been hit earlier. Not a concussion, thankfully- it’ll most likely just form a goose egg.

“C’mon, Eddie- you can do better than that!” The voice tickled at his mind as his eyes closed, letting the water run over his aching muscles. “Don’t tell me you’re getting lax!”

No. No, he wasn’t lax at all. The suit hid what lay beneath well. His hands wandered across his abdomen, tracing the relaxed muscles that lay beneath his epidermis. He kept to a strict regimen; it helped when he had a private gym in his house. Aerobics on Monday and Wednesday, paired with balance training; strength and endurance training on Thursdays and Saturdays. Pair all of that with running through the city from police and his fellow Gothamites, he was perfectly in shape. Nothing near Batman- but then again, he doesn’t think he’d want to look like a linebacker or a quarterback.

No, he was more of a track and field sort of guy. Or baseball. He’d been damn good at baseball.

Hair thoroughly shampooed and now with a deep conditioning mask in, he let himself relax against the heated tiles of the shower wall, breathing deeply. Calming, this was- something much needed. Reaching over, he took hold of the body wash (it was a gift from Kiyomi!) and spread it across the loofah, the rich scents of mahogany mingled with a dark teakwood and the barest hint of bourbon and cinnamon.

His mind began to drift as he scrubbed slowly at his skin. Hands grabbing at his hips, tugging him close- a hand slotting over his mouth to quiet him from yelling, breath against his throat, held back against a chest as the police rushed by, not bothering to look into the dark corner. How they stood so still in that moment, neither one moving from their position. How those hands wandered as Eddie’s head tilted back, the smallest noise escaping as the hand over his mouth drifted lower, settling around his throat and squeezing while the other hand settled just above his belt-

“Fuck.” Edward groaned, nose scrunching as he set the loofah aside to step beneath the warm spray of water. That had been new- something he hadn’t expected to happen. He also hadn’t expected to get the shit beat out of him in a fight immediately after, but good god had that moment been wonderful. Was he touch starved? Certainly not- but even he couldn’t deny how good that had felt.

The pressure around his throat had been perfect- not enough to cut off his oxygen, but enough to make his head swim with the mere thought of it. He could picture it so well- their chest to his back, their hand around his throat. He wasn’t sure who- oh, there were many faces that swam before his vision, many voices that whispered in his ear such filthy delights. His hand slid lower slowly, tracing a slow path before his fingers brushed against himself, drawing forth a soft hum of approval. There was a reason he kept a mirror in front of his bed in his room- and it was for times like this, the rare occasion someone would join him in his bed. It wasn’t as if people didn’t ask or try- oh, they did.

He supposes it’s a good thing each face that comes to mind is someone he has a form of relationship with- whether it be close friends or enemies, well, that was up for debate (and depending on the day, it seemed).

But to Edward E. Nygma, sex could be both pleasurable and a weapon. Only those he truly trusted fell into his bedsheets. Everyone else was left wanting, left high and dry or just on the verge before he slips away, leaving them on their own while he retreats with the information he’d been after. There was a word for this- not the manipulation, oh, he was well aware of how manipulative he could be. But the attraction, the need to have a form of relationship. Demisexual, he believes. Is the name for it.

A shame that there was no mirror for him to gaze into. Perhaps he should install one in his shower.

A gasp pulls free as he grips himself- but that’s not his hand wrapped around his hard cock, not in his mind at least. No- the hand is rough, calloused from years of working with a weapon. The grip is strong as it slides up slowly, thumb circling the piercing at the head- a Prince Albert- before slowly dragging back down, squeezing at the base. “God, yes,” he whispers, lost in his fantasy. He sinks to his knees, but all he can picture is their chest pressed to his back, their chin on his shoulder, watching as his stomach tenses with each languid stroke.

“Look at how hard you are, Eddie,” they would whisper, marveling at the length in their hand. Thick- the piercing sits perfectly, akin to a crown. Apt for the name it shares. “Look at this- yer already dripping.” They’d tease, thumb circling the head, toying with the piercing.

A shudder dances through him as his head tilts back, soaked strands clinging to his face. They’ve gotten long. Long enough to-

Oh, the hand leaves his throat to wind through damp ginger locks- getting a good grip before tugging. Hard. “Fuck! Yes, yes, yes,” Eddie called out, voice ricocheting back to him thanks to the natural acoustics of the bathroom. “Don’t stop, don’t stop,” his words spilled out like a sinner kneeling before the crucifix of Jesus Christ, each word holding the weight of a Hail Mary. His chest heaves as the hand strokes faster, squeezing with each tug downward, the thumb circling the sensitive glands just beneath the head with each stroke upwards. His hips cant forward into the grasp, rutting into it with sharp, high whines.

God, he thinks distantly, it’s a good thing I don’t have neighbors that live close.

“There, please- oh, please, let me come,” he pleads with his fantasy, nearly sobbing with how close he is, how high strung he feels suddenly. As if, at any moment, the marionette strings would snap and he would fall into a boneless heap.

“Do you deserve to come?” The voice asks, a growl in his ear as his hair is tugged back on again. “Do you deserve it? What have you done to deserve it? Tell me, Eddie.”

“I’ve been good, I’ve been so good,” he sobs, breath catching as he dangles so precariously close to the edge.

“Come for me.” The voice murmurs, and it’s so real he could swear he felt lips brush his ear before he falls over the edge, painting the floor and his stomach pearlescent. He groans, low and slow, teeth gritted as pleasure rolls over him in crashing waves. Good God, how long had it been since he’d done that? A good while.

He really should take better care of himself. A breathless little laugh escapes him as he blinks his gaze open, staring at his showerhead for a moment. He never did think of one person- he couldn’t. It felt wrong to do that, especially when some of them were in committed relationships. Or, they are now. They hadn’t been before. But that’s still disgusting.

Shaking his head, causing droplets to fling off to the sides, he cleans himself off before shutting the water off. The distant sound of rain greeted him like an old friend, a rumble of thunder finding its home in his bones for a moment.

He’s better than this.

The thought settles in the back of his mind, the words echoing. A familiar voice- one that he wished would leave. “Fuckin’ pretty bird,” he muttered as he grabbed hold of his towel, settling it around his waist as he stepped out. A glass of wine would help ease away the remnants of the nerves he just fucked away.

And keep the thoughts at bay.

Idly, he tapped out Moonlight Sonata on his thigh as he walked towards his bedroom.

[jonathan-cranes-mistress-of-fear]

Hey! Hope you’re doing well. I just wanted to know if you were a fan of @waiting4codot’s interpretations of the spookster? He’s my favourite Jon I think and he’s not completely canon but his work as Jon’s voice is just 👌🏻👌🏻😩😩😤😤👌🏻👌🏻👌🏻👌🏻

I’m a hardcore Dino Andrade fan, so while I like what he does and totally respect him and the amount of effort he puts into his work, his Crane voice just isn’t for me. I do like that’s southern though, and I appreciate the fact that he went with a southern origin. It’s also REALLY cool how he can mimic Edward’s voice from the Arkhamverse. He has major skills, i just like Dino Andrade better.

He is great at what he does though! I’m glad he’s in the fandom

[cottagecrowe]

Everytime I hear Frank Sinatra now: instantly thinks of CV Ed/Riddler

Me: : )

Frank: L. Is for the way you look at me.

Me: Immediately thinking of Ed

Also me: wheezing and dying with both things in my brain at the same time

[roguespodcast]

We've been receiving questions about when Rogues! will be releasing their next episode, and unfortunately the best answer we can give is "soon".

We're in the process of finishing the next season's scripts, and then I will be hitting the booth to record everything at once and then editing and releasing the episodes. It's a different step to the past where we used to write an episode, record it, release it, and then write the next episode.

We're hoping this will streamline things, but nothing is ever perfect.

If this goes as smoothly as we hope, we can schedule episodes for release while working on the NEXT season, but alas, a full-time job limits our creative output.

Please bear with us as we try to get the next season out as quickly as we can (while still making it as epic as we can).

Thank you to the long-time followers and patrons who are used to waiting on us, and to the new followers who are hoping we're as fast as they want us to be.

May we find a happy medium and keep you all entertained.

Love, Dee and Codot xx

[hexusproductions]

*Finger guns* Guess who's suddenly terrified for Codot's new story arc!

[myribcxge]

I don’t know if it’s just me but...

I really don’t like pitting the Robins against each other, because they were all highly trained and skilled in so many different ways and also so many similar was.

It doesn’t sit right with me saying “insert name here” was the best Robin because A) it’s your opinion anyway and B) all of the Robins have brought something unique to the title of Robin. I’m relatively new to the batfam part of the batman fandom, since I was usually just a rogues fan.. specifically Scarecrow and the Riddler but that’s not the point (Thank you Codot). I do have a favourite Robin but I don’t think he’s the best Robin. Being my favourite and being “the best” isn’t really the same.

In any case, pitting the Robins against each other just doesn’t really sit well with me since they’re all highly trained and skilled in different ways.

Please let me know what your thoughts are in the comments because I know I can’t be the only one who doesn’t like trying to y’know fight to see who the best is.

Honestly I just wanna vibe and love the whole batfam as a unit rather than separating them off by who is better than who.

[fake-witchbitch]

SO the amazingly talented (and absolute sweetheart) @waiting4codot made me this audio because of our shared love for the Young Ones. It’s the Rouges preforming one of my favorite scenes from the show and it fits so well. Please enjoy my friends amazing work! (Love you Coco)