#arkham scriddler

[finniestoncrane]

Christmas Gift Exchange

Scarecrow x Riddler x Batman, word count: 1.4k this is just a silly, flirty little thing for wonderful @constantron as part of the gift exchange for the arkham server!! request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: no sex, but plenty of suggestive stuff (also tiny cw for dubcon)

Edward knocked the end of his pristinely polished, golden cane against the door at the back entrance of the warehouse, signalling his arrival with a distinct rhythm before entering. Once inside, the door securely locked behind him, he reached a gloved hand into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and pulled a silken handkerchief, monogrammed in a bright green with his initials. He ran it idly over the top of the cane where he had touched the door with it as he walked towards the centre of the dark space. 

“Crane…? Have you forgotten our meeting? Or are you perhaps hiding in the shadows, intent on trying to scare me?”

A voice replied to him from somewhere to his right, obscured by the darkness, but recognisable as his dear friend. 

“You know me all too well, Nygma.”

Appearing almost instantly, magically, as he stepped out from the pitch black and into the glow cast from the solitary, low-hanging ceiling lamp, Jonathan smiled as he devoured the sight of Edward. He was dressed as smart as usual, a distinct flare, however, in the exquisite patterned tie obviously a new purchase, as it wasn’t one he recognised. 

“Dressed for the occasion?”

“As always. And I see you aren’t… as always.”

Edward let his own eyes drift judgmentally up and down Jonathan’s slender frame, taking in the scruffy, hole-ridden clothes he refused to give up wearing. The sentimentality behind them pushed Edward’s lips up into a small smile, one not missed by Jonathan, who offered his in return.

“If I were to dress differently, you might think that there was something wrong. I know how your mind works. Always overthinking, trying so hard to use that big brain when there really isn’t much call for it.”

“Charming.”

Edward rolled his eyes, unable to refute the very astute observation. Sometimes, more often than he cared to admit, he could completely forget that Jonathan wasn’t just a slender, nightmarish vision in decades old garments, but that he was an accomplished academic. Nowhere near as smart as Edward, but enough for him to begrudgingly consider him a peer.

“Well, would you care to exchange gifts?”

“Seems apt.” 

Edward’s response was dripping with sarcasm, a playful cruelty that had Jonathan’s eyebrow raised. That was until he opened the wrapping paper and held up the overly stylish shirt, in Edward’s signature, emerald shade, against his torso. 

“I… see. A gift for yourself when I inevitably don’t wear it?”

“Tut tut, Crane. As if I would ever be so selfish. Now! My turn! Give it here!”

Edward put his hands out expectantly, grunting as Jonathan landed a small pile of three presents onto his palms. Eddie looked at the wrapped gifts, then back to Jonathan, and then back to the gifts.

“Well, open them.” 

Jonathan splayed his hand out, inviting Edward to partake in his side of the festive tradition of their gift exchange. When he had all three of the gifts in his hands, unwrapped and visible, he took another look around the warehouse, almost knowingly, as though he had found the answer to a question he had been pondering the entire time.

“These are hardly any different from the kind of gifts you usually get me, Crane.”

A bottle of flavoured lube, a pair of new, shiny handcuffs, and a Wartenburg wheel in the shape of a question mark. A nice touch, but nothing he wouldn’t have expected. 

“I suppose the location is what makes this different?”

Jonathan shook his head, a half-smile crossing his face. 

“In a way, yes. The location serves a… purpose. But don’t be so ungrateful Edward. These gifts here, these are just… appetisers, if you will. This… is your main course.”

With a flourish, Jonathan held out his hand, gesturing to his right. His left hand flicked a switch on the wall behind him. 

“Now, I know we agreed not to make a big deal out of all of this, but…”

The lights flickered, a gentle buzzing and a sharp, high-pitched clink sounding out as they came to life. They highlighted Edward’s gift, like a priceless artefact in a museum, like a jewel behind bulletproof glass. The light above his present perfectly illuminated it. All that was missing was the slow rotation of a lazy Susan to give that gameshow-esque prize treatment.

“Tah dah.”

Jonathan’s smile was smug, so self-satisfied. Not only had he made Edward feel guilty about his previous attitude towards his gift, but he had surprised him, something that was almost impossible to do when The Riddler was always four steps ahead. 

“Oh, Jonathan… you’ve outdone yourself! It’s - he’s - perfect.”

“I can’t offer any self-effacing modesty, I really have won this year’s exchange.”

Edward crouched down, looking into Batman’s eyes, as unimpressed as they were, and laughed incredulously as he rolled them. 

“So… how did you do it?”

“It wasn’t as difficult as you might think. We managed to come to an… amicable agreement.”

With eyebrows raised, Edward turned his head swiftly to Jonathan in disbelief.

“You got him to agree to this? Willingly?”

Jonathan tilted his head from side to side, as though measuring up the facts surrounding the capture of Batman and his hour-long monologue which had been delivered to his kidnappee before Edward had arrived.

“Perhaps not entirely willingly. But! He did agree, once we had our gentlemanly discussion. And certainly with more enthusiasm than I thought he would.”

Turning his attention once more towards the hulking mass of muscles that sat in the chair, tied up with copious amounts of rope, Edward smiled with an air of arrogance as he lifted up the strong chin of his new plaything, their eyes meeting.

“Is that so, Batman?”

The caped crusader narrowed his eyes below his mask, refusing to blink, not wanting to give Eddie the satisfaction. 

“At least if I know you two are distracted by whatever this is, then you’re not out there terrorising innocent people.”

“Oh, I dare say there’ll be hours of freedom for the good people of Gotham. I plan to get as much out of you as I can.”

Trying hard to keep his breath steady, remaining cool and collected as expected from him, Batman gritted his teeth, his spit frothing behind his words as he demanded an answer from them with the kind of aggression he felt they expected, or wanted, to see.

“So what kind of sick plan do you have for me? Am I here to witness the kind of acts you described to me in your lengthy monologue, Crane?” 

Jonathan stepped up to Edward, standing next to him before crouching slightly to get closer to Batman as his smile spread wide enough for his crooked teeth to show.

“Afraid not, dear Bat. You are the main attraction for this evening. Although, I’m sure you already knew that, given how quickly you gave in to my proposal. You practically tied those ropes yourself.”

As Jonathan taunted him, Edward had made his way around to the back of the chair and was draping himself over Batman’s wide, squared shoulders. His hands drifted lazily down the front of the kevlar coated suit, the curvature and ridges of the defined muscles speaking to him through his palms. With a quick grunt, Batman shifted his body ever so slightly, struggling briefly against the ropes as he played up the charade of trying to move himself away from Edward’s gentle, teasing touch. Tutting out loud, Edward let go and returned to Jonathan as he spoke.

“Pretend all you want, but you’re putting up very little fight for someone who has beaten me half to death for a lot less than kidnapping and the looming threat of sexual exploration.”

The two men stood side by side, eyes sparkling with lust and excitement as they waited with bated breath for the other to make the first move. Jonathan gave in, typically not one to deny himself any pleasure in the name of keeping face.

“Now, Eddie… shall we continue our conquest of the virginal vigilante?”

Edward took Jonathan’s hand in his own, beaming with excitement and joy at the events that were to unfold before him. 

“Oh, Jonathan. You make this terrible season almost tolerable."

[batmanie]

maybe 43.  “Your muscles are in knots. Better let me rub you down.” with ak scriddler..? only if u want to of course

Uncharacteristically quiet, Edward was resting in Scarecrow’s favorite spot on the tattered corduroy couch. The said, sorry piece of furniture was placed in the middle of the claustrophobic, windowless space that was the Master of Fear’s current ‘base of operations’. A storage unit for rent wasn’t really meant for people to live in, which made it a perfectly good hideout – or so Jonathan Crane thought.

Yet, the Riddler had apparently found it with ease.

The man in green was sitting with his arms crossed, saying nothing – looking like a ticking bomb about to explode. It bothered Crane a bit, but not as much as it thrilled him. Unusual behavior in his patients had always been his favorite subject to study.

He didn’t ask Nigma a single thing as he joined him on the couch, he simply watched the man taking off his heavy boots and stretching out his legs – making himself comfortable as if he owned the place.

Coming to Scarecrow’s lair tonight was not a part of their arrangement. They used to schedule quick hookups every now and then, but this visit was a surprise.

In fact, Jonathan would have thought Edward to lay low for a while, especially after his recent break out from Arkham. Riddler seeking out Scarecrow and then not proposing any scheme, and not even saying what he wanted? It didn’t quite add up.

Curious, doctor Crane tried to be discrete as he studied the man’s face for more answers.

Perhaps this silent treatment was a game of sorts? Knowing Riddler, everything was but a game, and the childish man never wanted to lose.

Recently, there were rumors about the Riddler getting ill, refusing to eat and suddenly collapsing in his cell at the asylum. Rumors had it, the man had been hospitalized, however, this seemed to be the part of Edward’s escape plan as he had broken out from the medical wing, no longer than a few days after these events.

Edward didn’t look sick, he looked like he always did with his wrinkled forehead, short brown hair and his clean-shaven chin. But he was too quiet. His gaze, usually intense, seemed kind of absent – or maybe he deliberately avoided Crane’s preying eyes?

He didn’t look sick but he did look stressed out, clutching both his elbows with his trembling fingers. He was holding his breath, as if he waited for the right moment to say something reckless.

Jon knew something was up, yet, he didn’t care to ask.

Finally, after a few long minutes passing between them in a complete silence, Riddler decided to speak up. “I… I’m here to…” he faltered and bit down his lower lip.

Jon had never seen Edward struggling to share his mind like this before.

“You’re tense,” he stated the obvious, cutting Nigma off and making him turn his head to look at Jon. There was a hint of surprise in his gaze. Surprise and something else, akin to sadness.

“I have to tell you…”

“Don’t,” Jon interrupted, trying to keep his voice neutral but it still came out rude.

Edward stared at him, eyes wide. Shocked? Or a little scared maybe?

“It can wait,” Jon added, this time much softer. “I can see you’re quite stressed out, darlin’.”

He reached out to touch Edward’s left arm, to feel how tense his body was under his green blazer.

“Your muscles are in knots. Let me rub you down first.”

There was an unspoken question in Riddler’s eyes, and even more hesitation in his body language.

The man licked his own lips and sighed heavily. “Fine,” he nodded, lacking any signs of appreciation for Jon’s generous offer.

Scarecrow stood up from his own couch, making space for Nigma to lay down on his stomach across the dirty cushions.

Burying his face in the fabric of a pillow, Edward hid himself from the world, and from Jonathan’s gaze.

The doctor didn’t mind, he approached his guest from behind, trying to straddle his back, however, with his stiff, injured left leg dangling from the couch, this position turned out to be extremely uncomfortable for Scarecrow.

He didn’t say a word of complaint, and in return he heard a muffled sound of discomfort coming from the man beneath him. A pleasant little noise, indicating that Jonathan’s body weight, unimpressive as it was, still didn’t go unnoticed.

Getting to the task, Jon placed both hands on Edward’s back, letting him get used to the touch. After a second or two, he moved his long, slender palms up to the man’s upper back. Making small circles, he concentrated on the neck muscles, pressing a little harder wherever he felt stiffness.

He was patient and methodical in his work, as he knew patience was everything when dealing with the Riddler. And in due time, he got results.

Edward visibly relaxed, his body became less tense and more accustomed to Jonathan’s touch. The small sounds of pain and discomfort turned into relieved exhales. Jon was pleased with his work.

He was starting to like this new, silent Edward, who for once was not arguing or correcting Jon. He thought, he could get an advantage from Riddler’s unexpected visit, and his strangely agreeable mood. There was more than one way to help him relax, and why not making this evening enjoyable for both of them?

He was playing with this tempting idea in his head when he noticed something worrying. Edward’s breathing pattern had changed, suddenly turning uneven.

Scarecrow paused, observing Riddler’s reaction with a hint of concern.

The man, who so far kept his both arms buried under the cushion, now had them trembling slightly. His face was still hidden from Crane, but judging by the sounds he made, it seemed that Nigma was… sobbing?

This caught Scarecrow off-guard. A display of emotions, not triggered by his fear toxin, was not something that happened often between the two of them. They weren’t even that close. They might have this friends with benefits relationship going, but it was always more about the benefits than being friends.

Confused, Crane froze in place. Was he supposed to do something? Say something? Or just walk away?

The situation at hand took him far out of his comfort zone. He was unwilling to deal with Nigma’s emotional crisis right now, even though he was probably the most capable person to deal with such a thing – having a doctorate in psychology.

He didn’t want to be in this position, but it wasn’t right to leave Edward like this either. Sincere or not, he could do as much as to spare a few empty words of consolation for his pathetic partner.

“Edward…?” he started and immediately regretted it, not being able to empathize with the other man in any way.

“It’s alright, Edward,” he finally told him.

“No, it’s not!” Came the angry reply.

Then, after a few shaky breathes, there was a familiar, high-pitched voice again: “Riddle me this. I’m silent as the deepest sea. I’m laying still but cannot sleep. You shall commit me to the Mother Earth, for I have already turned to dirt. What am I?”

Scarecrow said nothing.

He didn’t wish to know the answer. If ignorance was bliss… what was knowledge?

He didn’t ask for this riddle and he didn’t ask what exactly was wrong with Edward. What did it matter anyway? Whatever it was, Jon couldn’t do a damn thing about it!

He had no words of comfort, no compassion in his heart. He had nothing to offer Edward under this circumstances. And what did Edward even expect from him in the first place?

Instead of answering the riddle, he continued to rub the man’s back in the gentlest, most sensual manner he possibly managed.

It was the least he could do for Edward.

Being a villain meant dying alone.

[scleracentipede]

little Arkham knight scriddler fun

[finzphoenix]

Not much, just a really lazy drawing of Jon marking his territory, lul

[funkylilgaycriminal]

It's been a while but the next page of Lost & Found is finally on it's way! Y'all can expect it somewhere this weekend.

As usual, have a preview:

[skxtchyghost]

very professional behavior

[gl1tchr]

more Early Arkhamverse Scriddler :] my favorite imbalanced office situationship🧡💚

[sealjustaseal]

Maybe he drinks all that coffee just to watch his (beloved) patient Ed sleep at night, in hopes he's getting a nightmare. But Ed couldn't sleep because he felt being watched.

At 3am in Arkham, Ed is twisting and turning in his bed until he finally he opens his crusty eyes. "Do you mind?" Ed said wearily while facing the wall.

At the farthest corner, Jon is found sitting on a chair with bloodshot eyes and his 4th pot of coffee in hand. "No, not at all," he said before taking a slow sip of his coffee.

yes

[ccccchepushilo]

im so ready for arkham shadows

[nexpire]

[finniestoncrane]

A Desperate Bid

Scarecrow x Riddler, word count: 1.4k to celebrate our server's birthday we did a little gift exchange, and i got to write for precious @yourewellandtrulyfucked so here's a little scriddler for them!! request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: sex, introspection, boys learning that they might like each other

Jonathan ran his hands up Edward’s forearms, ragged nails scratching against his skin as he followed up to his wrists. Clutching tight, he pinned them above Edward’s head, allowing himself a wry smile as he listened to Eddie’s breath hitch on the inhale, excitement overcoming him. 

“Have you ever considered confronting this need for control and dominance, Jonathan? Isn’t that exactly the kind of thing you psychologists enjoy?”

Edward gasped, a smug sneer covering his face as Jonathan lifted his wrists and pushed them back down again. With his fellow inmate, or colleague, he supposed, straddling him, it was all Ed could do not to lose himself then and there.

“Perhaps you would like to discuss how easy you’re making it for me to be in control?”

“Look at me, Jonathan. What about this lithe, brain strong body makes you think I could overpower anyone, even your ragged figure?”

He leaned up, taking Jonathan by a surprise as he placed a gentle kiss to his lips. 

“Besides, I enjoy letting someone else do all of the work.”

With that invitation, Jonathan lunged, dropping his head to Edward’s neck and ravishing him with kisses that were interspersed with nipping bites. He’d hate to admit it, but Ed tasted just as he imagined. And he had spent quite a lot of his periods of solitary confinement imagining just that. 

He couldn’t admit it though, not now, this was a bold enough move for Jonathan. He stuck to the shadows. He remained invisible until he needed to be seen. Unfortunately, his desire to experience the pleasures of the flesh that lay within his associate had indeed become a definitive need. 

Laying on the standard mattress, worn down by years of other inmates who inhabited the cell before them, Edward looked up into Jonathan’s eyes, searching for the answer to a question he hadn’t really constructed yet. It was a hunt for meaning, understanding. He didn’t want to verbalise it, as it suggested an interest, or a deeper one, and a weakness, a vulnerability that Jonathan may choose to exploit. But Edward was curious as to why he had been chosen as the object of Jonathan’s affections, or at the very least, his carnal desires. They didn’t always see eye to eye, and more often than not, Ed was certain that he provided a sense of perpetual irritation in Jonathan’s life. Perhaps, he pondered, this was an exercise in rage letting. That would explain the dominance. But it didn’t explain the way that Jonathan looked down at him, when their eyes met and their breathing synced. It didn’t explain the soft touch, the way that, when he wasn’t being ravished by bites and kisses, Jonathan was gentle, careful. 

A caress so soft wasn’t born of hate. There was obviously something more there. Edward could wait though. He wasn’t willing to risk this moment of bliss, of sheer joy and unseemly pleasure. Besides, with both of them in the same cell, naked and cold, they had to be quick to beat the temperature and the wandering eyes of other inmates, or the guards. So, not wanting to waste any moments on idle speculation or intimate tension building, Eddie reached up and planted his lips against Jonathan’s. 

The kiss was long, deeply passionate, and led to Edward’s arms being thrown around Jonathan’s neck, keeping him there in the embrace as long as he could. And while Edward stroked the hair at the nape of Jonathan’s slender neck, Jonathan himself was working his coarse palms up the front of Ed’s torso. The slender, but still more muscular than Jonathan’s own, build of the body below him sent him diving back in for another session of playful bites, this time trailing over Edward’s collar bone, turning to kisses as they reach his chest. And when he reached Ed’s nipples, hardened in arousal and from the cold of the room, he let his tongue flit out over them, producing the most delicate whine from Edward’s gaping mouth. In response, Jonathan felt his cock twitch. The anticipation was killing him, he needed Edward, needed the warmth of his body. Now. 

With his fingers clutching into the skin around Edward’s hips and ass, Jonathan cupped his hands around his body and shifted him, unexpectedly, closer, Ed’s legs bent at the knee so he was curled into Jonathan’s body, vulnerable, surrounded. With a smirk, and receiving one as a sign of consent to the deed he was beginning to partake in, Jonathan tugged down the orange, prison issue sweatpants and freed Edward’s already fully erect cock. As it bobbed, resting against his abdomen, Jonathan felt his own arousal surging, another twitch within his own pants urging him to hurry up and get on with it. 

Slipping his slender fingers below the waistband, he gripped his cock at the base, flinching at the sudden touch. Taking a deep, slow breath, he pumped at the contraband lotion Edward had somehow obtained and ran his hand along the length, coating himself. With a tentative finger, he pressed against Edward’s entrance, easing it into his asshole, watching it disappear up to the first knuckle, then the second, and watching in curious delight as Edward’s body trembled. Crooking it up, he pressed into the exact spot that he knew would elicit the reaction he hoped for, smiling in self-satisfaction as Ed whimpered, biting his lip, cheeks flushing as his smile pushed up into them. 

“Do you think you’re ready for this?”

The question was tinted with concern, though it was obvious to Edward that Jonathan had tried to make it sound like a seductive taunt. 

“I can handle you, Crane. Don’t flatter yourself.”

His mischievous grin pulled a growl from Jonathan’s throat, an animalistic sound that was less aggressive and more like a satisfied and curious purr. How much could he take, exactly? Always keen to experiment, Jonathan pulled Edward’s body to the edge of the bed, his cheeks coming into blunt contact with his throbbing cock before they were separated, Jonathan’s glistening head disappearing between them.

“Ah… ah… aaaaaah.”

Edward’s body relaxed into the pleasure, tension dissipating as he succumbed to the power Jonathan held over him in that moment, with each inch of the Scarecrow’s cock slowly being buried within him. 

Jonathan shuddered at the warmth, the tight caress of Edward’s body around him. It felt like being held in such an intimate way, There was a sweetness to it, a shared vulnerability that he wouldn’t have thought of before. Even in this role of dominance, exerting complete power of Edward, he knew his own vulnerability was on display. Without thinking, and only adding to the odd romanticism of this carnal act, Jonathan’s hand found Edward’s, fingers entwined together. And as he pumped himself in, deeper, harder, he kept clinging to Edward, holding his hand, letting the strength of Edward’s grip let him know when to ease up or to push further. 

Strange, how they had worked together for so long, Jonathan considered, and yet now he felt like he knew the man below him. He was grateful for that, in a way he hadn’t expected. And Edward, laying back, opening himself up literally and metaphorically, to Jonathan’s strength, and softness, felt similar. Whether this was an expression of something deeper, or of primal burgers only, it didn’t really matter. They had both found something more than a quick fuck to release some tension in the other man. 

When Jonathan felt himself losing control, his body pulsing with the looming threat of orgasm, he brought his free hand to Edward’s cock which bounced with every thrust against his abdomen. With his hand curled around it, Jonathan stroked in rhythm, watching Edward, bound by pleasure, muscles rigid as they tensed in preparation for his own release. And as he spilled himself over Jonathan’s fist, short spurts landing on his own chest and abdomen, he was rendered silent from his own gasps as he felt Jonathan flood him with his seed. 

There was a brief moment where they smiled together, an unspoken connection, a silent commitment to allow this to happen again. But as they pulled themselves apart, tainted with the others’ intimacy, the moment faded slightly, camouflaged in the backdrop of their circumstances. Any romantic notion hindered by the damp, dark confinement of their lives at Arkham. It only served to strengthen their desire for more.

[omggaypeople]

I don't even have words

[f4bula42]

They hate/love eachother

[logansbluetie]

I found this image on Wally Wingert's IMDB

they're so cute 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

[finzphoenix]

Hims...u///u

[stampz]

Rattler...