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adhdnursegoat · 3 months ago

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Reformed! Arkhamverse

cw: fluffy angsty goodness 😊, comfort

note: took a page from @caesariawritesstuff's Cat & Mouse because this Eddie is reformed and is more like Origins Eddie :) also, this was supposed to be for Friday 10/12 but this apparently wants to be posted. So enjoy a day early!!

“I’m going to kill him.”

word count: 2.1k

And you know he’s serious.

Edward stands before you, an embodiment of barely restrained fury, his clear blue eyes blazing with a fire so fierce you almost have to look away. His hands are clenched into tight fists at his sides, the muscles in his forearms bulging against the fabric of his rolled shirt sleeves, straining as though they’re moments away from snapping. You can see the twitch in his jaw, the flare of his nostrils, you can hear the shudder in his breath—he’s holding himself back by the thinnest thread.

It’s a testament to his self-control that he hasn’t already lunged at the man who dared lay a hand on you. His body trembles slightly, vibrating with tension, each breath a calculated attempt to rein in the storm brewing inside him. The air between you is thick with his rage, a palpable force that both grounds you and sends a ripple of unease through your stomach.

And yet, instinctively, you step closer.

You don’t know whether it’s to shield him or keep him from unleashing the tempest stampeding through his veins, but you place yourself between him and the man now wisely retreating, his face pale with terror. You could see it in the man’s eyes—the dawning realization of who he’s offended. He had no idea whose partner he was touching, whose wrath he had summoned. Now he knows. Now he sees. He’s an idiot.

“Edward, stop,” you say, your voice firm yet soft as you press a hand against his chest. Beneath your fingers, you can feel the wild, erratic beat of his heart—each pulse heavy with the weight of his restraint. It’s a force of nature contained only by sheer willpower.

But his eyes remain locked on the man, unblinking, his focus so laser-sharp it sends a shiver down your spine. The man is retreating, inch by inch, but Edward’s gaze is fixed, dangerous, a predator sizing up its prey. You’re not sure if he’s listening to you at all. The world has narrowed to one point, and all he sees is the insult, the violation, the audacity.

You take a breath and push harder against his chest, leaning into the pressure, hoping to anchor him, to bring him back from the brink. “Edward, look at me,” you plead, voice lower, softer, the kind of tone you know reaches him when nothing else can. “Please.”

“I’m not letting him get away with that,” Edward grits out, his voice low and seething. It’s a guttural sound, a primal instinct clawing its way to the surface. You can hear the squeak and grind of his molars, his jaw clenched so tight you worry he might crack a tooth. There’s a dangerous edge to his demeanor, a violent energy that radiates out. He tries to push past you, but you hold your ground, splaying both hands against his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palm.

“Yes, you are,” you reply, your tone unwavering as you meet his furious gaze with calm determination. You try to find his eyes, to anchor him to the moment, to you. “Look at me, Ed… Please, just look at me.”

After a beat, his lips remain pulled into a dangerous sneer. Then Edward ’s frozen flame eyes flicker down to you, their usual bright intensity now stormy, darkened by rage. For a fleeting moment, you think you’ve lost him to his old impulses, to the Riddler who took what he wanted and punished those who crossed him. There is a glint of something wild and predatory in his gaze that sends a shiver down your spine. You grimace, not enjoying having this energy now focused on you.

But then he blinks, seeing you through the red mist encroaching his mind, and you notice a glimmer of hesitation in his eyes. Finally. It’s the crack you need to reach him, a momentary opening in the armor of fury that surrounds him. You hold his gaze, feeling the intensity of his anger crackling, popping, and slowly fizzling to a smolder between your eyes, much like a fuse burning out seconds from an explosive ignition.

“That’s it, my love,” you coo, your voice soothing as you stroke his chest gently. Your fingertips brush against the fabric of his vest, feeling the rapid rise and fall of his breathing beneath it. Each breath is a tumultuous wave, the tension in his muscles beginning to ease just a fraction under your touch. “Just breathe, okay?”

He lets out a ragged breath, the sound escaping his lips like the release of a pressure valve. The tension in his shoulders sags slightly, and for a moment, you both stand in a fragile silence, the world around you fading into the background. “He touched you…,” he grits out, his voice husky with anger, each word tinged with a raw, protective instinct. It churns within him, a wildfire ignited every time he thinks of someone disrespecting you, of someone daring to encroach upon what he sees as rightfully his. But when he sees the steady look in your eyes, something shifts; a tremor of doubt flits across his features.

Edward closes his eyes, drawing in a deep breath, as if trying to anchor himself in the storm. When he opens them again, the tempest begins to subside. His blue irises are bright once more, though his brows remain furrowed in concern, a cloud of worry hanging over him like a shadow. “I can’t just stand by and do nothing when someone thinks they can treat you like that. Thinking they can touch what’s mine.”

The intensity of his possessiveness washes over you, wrapping around your heart like a tight embrace, both exhilarating and unsettling. You can feel the heat of his anger morphing into something deeper—an unwavering desire to protect, to claim, to own. And while you understand the danger embedded in his rage, the way it ignites his passion is undeniably intoxicating. The knowledge of how far he’s willing to go for you sends both a thrill of apprehension and arousal dancing down your spine.

Yet, your heart twists at the sight of him struggling, wrestling with his old instincts. Edward is trying so hard to change, to leave the darkness behind, but moments like this threaten to pull him back into the shadows. You lift a hand to cup his cheek, brushing your thumb gently across his skin, grounding him in the present.

“I know,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I know you want to protect what’s yours. But you promised yourself you’d do better, remember? And you’re doing so well, Edward. You’ve come so far.” Your other hand finds his face as well, ensuring his attention is fixed on you when you say, “I’m so, so proud of you…”

You smile up at him, your eyes shining with sincerity, trying to mirror the warmth of your words. You continue to pet his cheek, showering him with the tender love and care he needs—no, deserves. “Don’t throw that all away because of one jerk. He’s not worth it.”

He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he fights to steady his breathing, the rhythm still uneven. “I can’t do this. I need to break his fingers. I need to-”

“Shh,” you interrupt gently, pulling his face towards yours with a delicate touch. You lean in, resting your forehead against his, feeling the warmth radiating from his skin. You can sense his rapid breaths, his body still coiled like a spring, ready to snap at any moment. “You need to use that big, sexy brain of yours and reason with yourself. You can. I believe in you. You are the smartest, most resilient man I know. World’s Greatest Everything—right? You can do this.”

You feel him exhale shakily, his eyes fluttering closed as he leans into your touch. “You’re right…” His hands, which had been hanging limply at his sides, now come up to hold your hips. His grip is tight, almost desperate, as if he’s afraid you might slip away. “I hate this.”

“I know you do,” you say softly, nuzzling his nose with your own. Then you let you hands push back into his hair, fingers threading into the dark strands. “What matters is how you handle it, and you’re handling it right now. You stopped. You listened to me. That’s progress.”

He opens his eyes, looking at you with frustration but vulnerability. The dark shadows beneath his blue irises betray the tumult swirling in his mind. “You make it sound so easy,” he murmurs bitterly, his voice laced with a heaviness that echoes the struggle within him. “But it’s not. I want to hurt him.”

You sigh, your fingers instinctively playing with the dark hair at the nape of his neck, seeking to ground both him and yourself. “I know. And it’s okay to want that. It’s okay to feel angry, to want to protect me. But both of us—even he knows—you could yeet his ass from this mortal coil.”

Edward chuckles at your silly encouragement, the sound breaking through the storm of his fury. It’s a crack of amusement in his dissipating rage, and it makes your soul sing, a warm note of relief coursing through you.

“But you don’t have to act on every impulse,” you continue, your voice softer now, wrapping around him like a comforting blanket. “You’re more than your anger.”

For a long moment, he just stares at you, his eyes searching yours, as if trying to find the truth reflected back. His brow furrows as he sifts through everything you’ve said. You can almost see the gears turning in his mind, letting the gentle tide of your voice roll a wave of calm through his body. He sighs, pressing his forehead more firmly against yours, the warmth of his skin grounding you both in this fragile moment.

Then, finally, he exhales a slow, shuddering breath, a release of tension that seems to echo in the air around you. He wraps his arms around you completely, pulling you into a tight embrace— a recognition of your unwavering support. You can feel the tension in his body slowly easing, replaced by a weary sort of resignation, as if the weight of his burdens is shared in this closeness.

“Okay,” he murmurs into your hair, the sound softening the edges of his earlier anger.

You nod in appreciation, your arms encircling his neck, anchoring him further. “You’re doing your best, Ed... That’s enough for me.” You offer a small smile, one filled with warmth and understanding. “Now, how about we get out of here? Go home? We can sit down, relax, and forget about that asshat. I can massage your neck and shoulders. That always makes you feel better, yeah?” Making your point, one of your hands strokes and squeezes the tight muscles at the back of his neck, feeling the tension begin to dissipate beneath your touch.

A faint smile tugs at the corners of his mouth as he groans, leaning into your caress, and he nods. “Yeah. A massage sounds wonderful,” he purrs, his voice still hoarse but no longer filled with fury. In a sudden surge of affection, he reaches forward, cupping your cheeks in both hands and drawing your face closer to his. “You’re never leaving me,” he declares, his tone possessive yet tender, as he presses in an affirming kiss on your lips. It’s firm, grounding, a period instead of a question mark.

You break the kiss, whispering “promise” against his lips, before kissing him once more, and then his nose, a playful gesture that earns you another soft chuckle from him. You pat his cheek, then take his hands from your face, your fingers interlacing with his. Feeling a warm glow well up in your chest, you give him a soft smile, a gesture filled with tenderness, and then you tug him gently. “Let’s go home.”

As you pull him through the bar, the atmosphere around you shifts, the noise of the crowd fading into a comforting background hum. You glance back at him, giving a warm, knowing smile. “You know, the new season of Love Is Blind is out now. We can watch that when we get home too.”

Edward’s blue eyes widen behind his glasses, and a spark of excitement ignites in his gaze. He starts walking faster, now tugging you along with newfound energy. “Darling, why didn’t you say that sooner? You know I love watching those idiots torture themselves in that sorry excuse for an experiment.”

#selfshiptober 2024 #riddler #riddler x reader #edward nigma #fanfic #arkham knight #female reader #arkham origins riddler #arkham origins #reformed riddler #riddler fanfiction #gotham city storybook #ask the goat

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acapelladitty · 5 months ago

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Batman: Arkham Session #1

Summary: After an incident at work, Edward Nashton is assigned to Dr. Jonathan Crane for psychological assessment. A decision which places both men in the firing line.

One half of an exchange with the incredible @skxtchyghost who has the absolutely amazing art half of this little encounter here!

Fic Masterlist /// Link to A03

From the moment he laid eyes on him, Jonathan Crane could tell that Edward Nashton would be less than an ideal patient. From the way that he lounged carelessly in his chair to his casual gaze which swept along the many achievements and objects which littered the walls of Jonathan's office.

Every inch of the lanky frame screamed difficult and Jonathan found his mood worsening as he shifted past the meagre introductions which had been shared.

Jonthan flicked his eyes over the notes he had been provided from the incident report as his left hand rose to adjust the bolo tie which hung loosely around his throat.

"You destroyed a workstation in a fit of," Jonathan lifted the top sheet of paper from his clipboard as he quoted the report directly, "obvious rage while using considerably inappropriate language. These are not the actions of a rational man."

Unapologetic, Edward spread his hands in a wide gesture as a defensive smile stretched across his lips.

"I'm the only rational man in this city."

"Oh?"

Really having a limited interest in whatever nonsense Edward was about to spout, Jonathan made a quick note on his clipboard - ready to simply diagnose him with some asinine anxiety disorder and throw some medication at him to quell the worst of his obvious symptoms.

"The others are so willing to ignore the corruption," Edward continued with a growing irritation, "how unbearably stupid and foolish the criminals that rule this city choose to be."

"Harsh allegations."

"Only because the evidence is routinely destroyed. Weeks of work erased in an instance because a particular name would rather not be associated with the actions investigated." His tone snappy, Edward was clearly not at peace with his treatment and Jonathan frowned at the sudden emotional outburst. "Weeks! Good work. No recognition. Only a sharp reminder that our job is to catch real criminals."

"I can imagine the frustration."

Something in Edward's expression shifted and Jonathan tensed as he took in the change in body language, the immediate aggression which crawled into his leaning frame and clenching fists as Edward met his gaze without flinching. It was an open challenge and Jonathan would not back down as he accepted and adjusted his glasses to allow him to keep Edward's attention.

"You bore me. Don't feed me the words I want to hear, Doctor."

"Interesting. Do you see me as your enemy?"

Wary but slightly more interested in his patient, Jonathan asked the question with the smallest of smiles.

"Yes. Your work is as corrupted as mine even if your corruption comes from a more personal insistence."

Jonathan's blood ran cold.

"I do not know you, Mr. Nashton. Neither do you know me."

He couldn't know.

No one knew.

Especially not a jumped up technician from the GCPD.

No.

He was just fishing for information, attempting to claw back the control of the situation by fabricating infor-

"Your purchasing history is interesting, both online and in your role within this asylum." Edward grinned, his body language relaxing into something almost smug. "Meaningless to a layman, but a small touch of research and critical thinking goes to show just how dangerous the various chemicals and research papers you collect could be. Pair that with the increased reports of catatonia which patients under your care have been reduced to and we have something approaching a pattern."

"Mr. Nashton, these delusions do nothing to further yo-"

Rudely, Jonathan found himself cut off by a childish wave.

"Your business is your own and I have no reason to care for any of the degenerates in this building. My work is almost finished and I have my own important business to attend to. Where our paths cross is that I require a clean bill of health to leave my job with the appropriate supports in place."

Smiling widely, his glasses pushed tight against his eyes, Edward perched his fingers on the light-coloured vest which covered his shirt as his cheap shoes tapped a soft rhythm to the carpet. Opposite him, Jonathan felt much more uptight - the shift in dynamic having put his teeth on edge as the urge to regain control of the situation tempted him into dangerous territory.

"You're blackmailing me." Jonathan gritted out.

"If you choose to view it as such then yes. I choose to view it as a mutual exchange of services." Shrugging, Edward caught his hands between his knees. "You clear me, and I erase some of the more unsavoury purchases that you have unsuccessfully distanced from your name."

Seeing each other plainly, Jonathan abandoned any pretence of playing the game and his expression soured into open distaste, regarding Edward with contempt.

"And what guarantees do I have that you are speaking the truth? One word from me and you will be locked away with the worst that Gotham has to offer." Flashing a cruel grin, filled with yellowing teeth, Jonathan tilted his head. "I could have you in a shared cell which houses violence that would easily end a man like yourself."

"All my information is due to release at a specific time if I am not available to prevent it. Risk it all and see."

Reclining once more, Edward presented his hand before himself as he investigated his nails with a forced nonchalance.

"So, Doctor Jonathan Crane, how are we going to move past this?"

#i want them both carnally btw #edward nygma #riddler #Jonathan Crane #scarecrow #edward nashton #arkham games #arkham shadow #arkham origins #dc comics #batman

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