#i do not condone the riddlers actions

[irraddiated]

you call it crime, we call it smart family business.

[ilovetheriddler]

yandere riddler of your choice with a reader whos into the whole stalking thing? thank you and have a good one!

Thank you! Oh, this is an interesting idea! It took me a bit to decide which Riddler would work best with this.... but then I decided that Edward Nashton would be a fun choice since I haven't written for him yet! I hope this is what you wanted! 💚

Obsessions.

(2022 Batman) Edward Nashton/The Riddler x F!Reader.

(Declaimer: I don't condone or approve of the actions taken in this story. It is purely a work of fiction.)

Word Count: 682.

Contents: Stalking, Obsessive Behavior.

Edward could still perfectly recall in exact detail the first day he met you. It was a memory that had burned itself into his mind, and that made his very heart race whenever he thought of it. You had walked into KTMJ, looking for someone to help look over the accounting for your place of employment.

The moment his eyes landed on you, he nearly felt his heart stop. You were perfect, ethereal even, to him. The way your hair framed your face, the brilliant shine in your eyes, the sweet and caring smile you always had, all things he absolutely adored and obsessed over.

"Hello there! Um.. I'm looking for whoever I need to speak with... the place I work at needs someone to look over our finances and our profit records?"

He just simply stared at you silently for a few moments until it finally dawned on him that you were actually speaking to him. He nervously adjusted his glasses slightly.

"...Um... I C-could take a look at that... for you... if you wanted?"

"Thank you! I'd really appreciate it!"

You sat down near his desk. Over the next hour, he looked through the reports and informed you of any discrepancies that your place of employment should be aware of and concerned about. He kept stealing longing glances at you while he worked.

Soon enough, you thanked him for his assistance and left. He felt a mixture of things once you had left. Frustration, disappointment, and an overwhelming need to bask in the warm glow of your presence again.

So, of course, that's why he's currently following you home, staying a decent distance behind you so that you don't notice him, He wouldn't be able to handle it if you found out what he was doing and were disgusted with him, no. He just couldn't risk it. So he always took extra care to not be seen.

Unbeknownst to him, you were actually already aware of the fact that he has been following you home every day. You knew that you should have probably either reported him or confronted him about his behavior. But strangely enough, a part of you didn't really mind.

Maybe he was just shy? At least, that's what you told yourself to justify your bizarre comfort with the situation. You were kind of hoping that he'd eventually work up the nerve to just ask you out. You thought he was quite cute, and he seemed fairly nice, outside of the whole stalking you thing. So you wouldn't mind going out to eat with him or perhaps just seeing a movie even.

But it went further than just him following you home every day. Late at night, you could almost swear that you heard a clicking sound, like what a camera would make. It made your skin crawl slightly, but you kind of liked it for some reason that you couldn't quite pinpoint.

That same clicking was currently going on just outside your window, Edward knew that it was wrong and really creepy of him to be taking pictures of you, which, as far as he was aware, was without your consent. Even though you honestly didn't mind that much, however, he didn't know that. He truly believed that you were none the wiser of his stalking and photo taking.

Eventually, a few hours after you had gone to bed for the evening, Edward slowly made his way back to his apartment, he needed to get these photos printed off so he could put them in the album he had made that was just entirely pictures of you. He loved to stare at them whenever he wasn't able to follow you. They brought him such comfort and joy. There was finally something outside of his riddles that he found joy in within this city.

He printed the pictures out and put them nice and neatly in the album. Before changing and laying down in his bed, he cradled the photo album to his chest, hoping to dream of the one who had stolen his heart so effortlessly.

[spinosacha]

I like how the riddler tells multiple times that he doesnt feel things the same way others do, theres never a break through where he admits he does really care. I mean he does care in his own way but they never make us forget that he is different. He is probably a psychopath! Yet we get to emphasize with him anyway and to see what he cares about. It’s not condoning his actions, it’s giving us a chance to get to know someone who differs pretty masively from what we think a protagonist should be.

[rootbeerrex]

My Taste In Men But It Gets Progressively Worse With Little To No Explanation

it's one am I'm still sick and I am going to regret everything tomorrow morning let's do this

(obligatory "these are not necessarily good people whose actions I am condoning" disclaimer)

1. Fitzwilliam Darcy

2. Wesley (The Princess Bride)

3. The Duke of Hastings

4. Cole Cassidy

5. Twisted Fate

6. Dr. Robert Chase

7. William Shakespeare In This Movie I Saw The Trailer For In An English Class One Time And Never Followed Up On

8. The Riddler from Batman: The Animated Series

9. This Specific Henchman From Diehard

10. The Humanized Version of Kowalski The Penguin That I Saw On Pinterest Once And Reverse Image Searched But I Am Pretty Sure Is From This Artist

anyway that's all I should probably go to sleep but god knows I'm not gonna. goodnight folks I'm gonna regret everything I've ever done in the morning.

[naradreamscape]

Being lurked on by weirdos for so long has given me the ability to read things five ways over before I send them, lest something I say offend or mislead, but it's definitely made me very formal. I had friends asking me about a new blorbo, and I prefaced my reveal with a whole "I do not condone nor endorse their canon actions" statement - everybody thought I was going to send an IRL war criminal but then they just got Paul Dano Riddler

[littleoddwriter]

At Last | Edward Nashton/The Riddler (Solo) | N/SFW | Dark Fic

Hi there! So, I was debating whether or not to upload this; but I said ‘fuck it’, now. Obviously. Uh- I just like getting in his head and writing out such scenarios, I guess. I don’t even know, to be honest. Disclaimer: Of course I don’t condone his actions or think anything depicted here is good. It’s simply fiction and a character study/exploration of scenarios I see him in. Please don’t harass me over this. [Idek why I’m writing a disclaimer and stuff when I’ve literally written such things for ZsaszMask before and nobody batted an eye; but I’m also paranoid, so yeah.]

summary; Ed gets himself off after killing the mayor.

notes; (Shower) Masturbation; Murder; Mentally Unstable Character; DARK Fic; PWP (almost); Includes References to Canon (so, spoilers).

Breathing heavily, the Riddler got up and prepared the crime scene for the pigs and the Batman. 

His head was swimming, his vision was hazy, and his pants were far too tight and starting to feel a little sticky. 

This wasn’t his first murder, but it was by far one of the most exciting ones. This one was more personal than the others. This one was the first step into unmasking the truth about Gotham.

It was the mayor he had killed. 

He had everything planned out. He knew where to place what and what clues to leave so that the Batman would get them. They would make a great team. He knew that.

It made him feel even more excited. More aroused. His hard cock twitched inside the tight confines of his pants.

Letting out a long, deep sigh, the Riddler pressed his palm against his cock to relieve some of that built-up pressure. A breathy moan left his lips, muffled by his mask. 

He couldn’t do anything to bring himself to orgasm yet. Not here. He couldn’t leave a single trace for the cops to identify him. Not yet, at least. This was only the start after all.

Once everything was taken care of and it was time to leave the building, the Riddler looked at the mayor’s corpse one last time, feeling his pants tighten significantly again, after his erection had just calmed down a little with how focused he was on preparing the clues and riddles, meticulously placing them all over the scene and beyond it.

Before he could lose himself, the Riddler left.

At home, he quickly shed his clothes, his glasses, his mask and the cling wrap. 

He walked into the bathroom to shower, to get any and all traces of his deed off of him; although it was mostly just sweat. 

As he stood in the shower, under the warm spray of water, he ran his hands down his body, until he reached his half-hard cock. Now he could unwind and let it all out. This pent up arousal that coursed through him ever since he landed the first blow on the mayor’s head. 

Moaning quietly, Edward took his dick into his wet hand and slowly started pumping it to full hardness. There was a lot of friction, almost to a painful degree, since he didn’t have any lube; but he didn’t care. He liked it better this way.

Flashes of the murder he just committed formed in his inner eye, repeating themselves to him and heightening his arousal.

Using some of his pre-come to lube himself up just a little more, Ed leaned his head back, pressing it against the cold tiles of the shower walls. He moved his hand faster, tightening it around his head. 

At last, he had found what he’d been looking for his entire life. The ‘what’ and ‘why’. He knew what he had to do, what he had to become; why it happened. It wasn’t his fault. It was theirs. And now he would show them all. He would avenge himself and all those kids that had their chances at a normal life taken from them. 

The thought was what made him come, moaning and grunting through it as he convulsed with it. He twitched with his orgasm’s aftershocks, until he calmed down completely, feeling content.

Quickly, he showered, once he regained his balance. 

After that, he sat down at his desk, opened his diary, and started writing about the events of that day and what was to come in ciphers. He liked writing in those far more by now. It felt more like himself. 

Once he was done writing, Ed adjusted his glasses and turned around to look at his rats in the cage and the apparatus he’s built for his next victim with a smile on his lips.

He couldn’t wait.

[killerlookz]

ngl the riddler was justified in his actions and if he had someone guiding him he'd be able to go so much further and do much more good

edward was kind of based (minus the whole flood thing really kind of just made things harder for those in gotham who were struggling which i feel like kind of goes against his whole principle. but. you know.) but, yeah. i mean. i don't technically condone murder... but... yeah.... edward nashton, based.

[agentnico]

The Batman (2022) Review

For those of you doubting Robert Pattinson being cast as Batman, may I remind you that he has played a vampire before. Is it not therefore natural for a vampire to turn into a bat? I rest my case.

Plot: When the Riddler, a sadistic serial killer, begins murdering key political figures in Gotham, Batman is forced to investigate the city's hidden corruption and question his family's involvement.

Right, time to do some maths! So the current DC Extended Universe Batman is Ben Affleck (though rumoured to be leaving after The Flash), Michael Keaton is confirmed to be donning the suit once again for multiple DC films, Robert Pattinson is now flying in as Patman, the lovely charitable Keanu Reeves is voicing Batman is DC League of Super-Pets and I’m certain Will Arnett’s Lego Batman (he still counts!) is still out and about. So that’s what, 5 current Batmen? I don’t know what this means but what I do know is that this shows that Hollywood is out of original ideas. Regardless, Robert Pattinson is now Batman, and this one is promised to be even darker and more brooding than the previous versions. Eventually with every iteration trying to be darker in a couple of years we’ll be watching a Batman movie that is literally just a plain black image that stays on for 2-3 hours. Speaking of the runtime, The Batman is way too long. I don’t want to jump straight to a negative, but gosh is this movie too long. Running at 3 hours, and with most of the imagery being dark and plain one naturally gets bored. Yes, I said it, I got bored watching The Batman. Not through all of it, there are some genuinely good scenes and some of the cast performances are stellar, however for a lot of it I did notice myself checking my non-existent watch. Yes, I don’t have a watch, sue me! Who even has a watch these days? Ever heard of a phone? Tap the screen and you’ve got the time! Easy. That being said you shouldn’t be on your phone in the cinema as I don’t condone such behaviour. So what I’m saying is, I was bored and I couldn’t even check the time! Disastrous, I know. 

The Batman’s story is one that strips the superhero character to the basics. Yes, there is action, but at its heart the movie is a detective mystery, where Batman alongside Jeffrey Wright’s James Gordon follow Riddler’s clues to find him as well as discover secrets behind the corruption of Gotham. That is all well and okay, however the mystery and its solution are quite predictable. The reveals can all be seen from a mile away, so seeing Batman and Gordon take their sweet 3 hour time trying to work it out themselves is tedious and also proves that they both are terrible detectives and should reconsider their career choices. That being said, Bruce Wayne here really seems to love riddles, as whenever Riddler leaves him with yet another riddle, Bruce is like “yes, I know!! I know the answer to that!”. Alright mate, calm down, no one likes a show off. Then again, he must get bored walking around at night dressed as a bat. Guess solving riddles and puzzles adds some flair to his otherwise depressing life. I don’t know why I’m judging Bats so much, he’s actually one of the highlights of this film.

That’s right, Robert Pattinson makes for a good Batman. He’s reserved yet you can feel the anger behind the mask. He also does the voice well. But also Pattinson makes for a solid Bruce Wayne. You can feel Bruce’s tortured self reflect in his eyes, and you can really tell that this guy has missed a good few therapy sessions. Paul Dano as The Riddler is obviously great. Anyone who has seen the film Prisoners already knows that Dano can play creepy criminals well. He’s got that innocent everyday-guy face, however he can easily transform into a deranged maniac and do so successfully. He turns The Riddler into a truly scary presence, adapting the character more into a terrorist rather than a green suited gent with question marks on his outfits. Paul Dano is a stand out here and I love seeing him take these roles. Jeffrey Wright as Gordon was okay. Nothing against the guy, but his entire shtick here was to say every line with huge intensity as if he’s constantly constipated. Zoe Kravitz as Catwoman did Catwoman things, and Andy Serkis appears as Alfred and doesn’t do much. Kinda feels like he was only on set for a couple of days. Colin Farrell is unrecognisable as the Penguin, having received a similar face transformation to that of Jared Leto in House of Gucci and Gary Oldman in The Darkest Hour. Usually I see Farrell as a cast stand out, however in The Batman he’s, as Iron Man would say to Spider-Man “if you’re nothing without this suit, then you shouldn’t have it.”. For I feel outside of the Penguin fat-suit Colin Farrell doesn’t do anything special here. And lastly I wanted to mention John Turturro as Carmine Falcone, who feels like he walked straight out of The Godfather set, as he played the mob boss with eloquent charm, and I kept waiting for him to say “I'm gonna make him an offer he can't refuse”. He never did though. He never did. Shame.

Overall The Batman I think should be titled as A Batman. Not terrible, and has its moments, but overall I don’t think it adds much new to the Batman formula, and again, I must say, its too long. I kind of feel if it was shorter the negatives wouldn’t stand out so much to me, but 3 hours for this was too long. Also, the ending of the film is flat out silly. Following the serious realistic tone of the first two hours, the movie ends on a catastrophic event that in a nutshell doesn’t make sense. There’s this big thing that happens, and then in the next scene characters just act like nothing happened and that what occurred was an easy fix. Felt a tad stupid, however I cannot say more without spoilers. Anyway, enjoyable but forgettable. And here be lies my verdict.

Overall score: 6/10

[sunaddicted]

Lilies 1/2 (nygmobblepot, tw: mentions of past child abuse)

Once again, with his heart full of dread, Oswald realised that hadn't paid a visit to his mother's grave in months; falling from his throne and the subsequent struggle to claw his way up to the top - a viciously painful cycle he had went through a little too often for his tastes - had driven his mother's memory to the back of his mind, shadowed by more immediate problems that required his attention unless he wanted to join her in the afterlife.

Which he highly doubted it would have made his mother happy - Oswald could imagine her gently scolding him for having such morbid thoughts as if she was standing next to him, her fingers petting through his hair stiff with pomade.

Still, it didn't erase the fact that he was a terrible son and guilt tied tight knots of his squirming insides, making Oswald feel nauseous just at the thought of his ungrateful behaviour: he should have been able to spare a few minutes for the woman who had raised him in a house that, while poor and lacking when it came to the most material things, had always been full of love and acceptance.

Gertrud hadn't batted an eyelash when he had tentatively implicated that he wasn't remotely interested in those scandalously painted women she was afraid would take her son away from her.

She hadn't tried to drive his most flamboyant habits out of him, teaching him instead how to style his hair and put eyeliner on without poking his eye out.

Despite being unable to afford it, his mother had fought with Oswald for months and taken up all the odd jobs she could to persuade him to stay in high school until graduation.

And Oswald knew that she deliberately had chosen to never speak out aloud about his unsavoury career of choice: she wasn't a stupid woman - a little untethered sometimes, but far from obtuse.

His mother had been a rare breed, as plenty of Oswald's acquaintances had showed him: it seemed that too often the love of a parent was denied to children who were different.

Freaks.

Oswald knew that amongst them, he was one of the few who could boast about having had an happy childhood and nurturing parents - even his father, who he had met too late to form the deep bond he had with his mother, had loved him despite his plentiful flaws.

He also recognised that it probably was the reason why he had the slightly unhealthy habit of collecting unique people that had only known hatred in their lives to give them a semblance of a family to count on - a support network of sorts. The fact that his kindness - not that he purposefully broadcasted it as such: he needed to be feared and respected, not regarded as some sort of mothering figure by all the villains around town - was repaid with loyalty, it was an added bonus that he obviously wasn't going to turn down, seen as most of them had abilities that helped Oswald to keep his hold onto Gotham's underground firm and tight.

Oswald shrugged on his coat and went to the kitchen where he could hear the steady murmuring of Fries' voice talking science to Martin; he hated to interrupt the tutoring sessions, but he had quickly learnt that the boy would restlessly look for him around the Manor and become antsy when he couldn't find him: when Oswald realised that Martin probably acted out of fear of being abandoned once again, his heart had done a little painful summersault and he had promised himself to always warn him when he was going out.

Silently leaning against the doorframe, Oswald took a few seconds to admire the scene playing in front of his eyes: Victor Fries was surprisingly good with children - or maybe he just particularly liked his ward - and, apparently, also very good at explaining maths without being boring if Martin's captivated and focused expression was anything to go by.

He cleared his throat, smiling as he limped up to the table to squeeze Martin's shoulder "I'm going out for a bit"

Immediately, Martin retrieved a discarded scrap of paper with a big question mark doodled on it - the symbol briefly made the blood in Oswald's veins freeze before he realised that Martin must have used it to ask questions to his impromptu teacher to better clarify a piece of information - and thrust it in Oswald's hands. They had both been working on sign language, learning it together in the evenings after dinner, but Martin still hugely preferred to use his notepad.

"To the cemetery" Oswald answered, handing back the note "I'll be back in an hour or so"

/Can I come?/

"Aren't you in the middle of solving a problem?"

"It's fine, Oswald" Victor reassured, fingers already quickly gathering their notes to put them away until the next lesson "He's been coped up inside the whole week: take him out for a bit of fresh air"

/So?/

Oswald wanted to argue that a cemetery wasn't the best place for a child for a trip but relented when he looked down and saw those big brown eyes studying him hopefully, waiting for an answer "Alright, go get your coat" Oswald relented with a sigh "How is he doing?" He turned to ask Victor, peering down at the neatly scribbled notes.

"He's a sharp kid" Victor answered "I'm still not sure about homeschooling being the best option but he's not going to have problems passing his examinations"

"I know, I have a bunch of geniuses teaching him" Oswald retorted with a proud smile.

"He needs to interact with his peers, Oswald"

The smaller man sighed "And I agree but he needs to build up his confidence first" he pointed out "I'm not going to send him to school before I'm sure he won't let himself be bullied"

"I suppose that's true" Victor admitted, bringing the conversation to an end when he heard the distinctive pattering of excited feet running over the parqueted floor "Well, I'll see you later. I'm leaving your notes on your desk, Martin - work on the problems we haven't solved today"

Martin signed a quick 'thank you' before he tugged on Oswald's coat, clearly impatient to get out of the house - even if that meant taking a walk amidst graves.

"We're going, we're going" Oswald reassured, rolling his eyes fondly as he led him to the limousine and opened the door for him "Don't squash the flowers" he warned, settling next to Martin's quietly comforting presence.

***

Edward had always been a creature of habit, routines were so deeply ingrained in his brain that, with their disruption, his thinking process halted and he felt like a fish out of water - choking on thin air, gills gaping obscenely in a gain vain attempt at survival; it was in those moments that his mirror self had used to take control, the Riddler slipping through the cracks as sleek as an eel to ensure that Edward Nygma didn't do anything idiotic while weighed down by panic.

Not that the Riddler had been any less fixated on patterns - otherwise, Oswald wouldn't have been able to play him so well, predicting his actions with with almost clairvoyant ability. No, the only difference between them was that the Riddler handled the unexpected better than Edward Nygma did and managed to fiction even when their safety net was snapped.

"Are you hoping that taking up old habits will dislodge the psychological block that's keeping you from using your brain to full potential?" Lee inquired, frowning; Nygma's reasoning made sense - proving to the man that he wasn't actually stupid, if only he bothered to see- but she did worry about what the other man's emotional instability could push him to do.

Living in the Narrows didn't mean that she suddenly condoned criminal activity and she wouldn't turn a blind eye to her patient going on a murderous rampage just to kick his brain into working like it used to. Lee was slowly growing fond of Edward - it rankled her: he had killed one of her friends, after all - but she wasn't yet so fond that she wouldn't hand his arse at the GCPD if he started spilling blood.

"It can help people suffering from memory loss"

"You don't have memory loss" which had been one of the first signals that had made Lee suspect that Edward's damage had been more psychological rather than physical; it didn't make sense that Nygma would loose something as significant as his intelligence but had retained every single one of his memories up to the moment when he had been iced over by Fries. Various tests and scans had proved her right "What did you have in mind?" She asked, noticing the defeated expression on her patient's face.

Edward immediately brightened at the question: doctor Thompkins wouldn't have asked for further clarification on his plan, if she had thought that it was completely stupid; it almost made him feel like his old self "Something small" he reassured "But on which I truly relied on to calm down whenever I felt particularly under pressure"

"Such as?"

There came the embarrassing- and potentially dangerous - part of his plan "I used to bring flowers in Gertrud's grave, every other Thursday" he admitted. Even after discovering Oswald's betrayal - even after shooting him off of the pier - Edward had kept visiting Gertrud Kapelput with a handful of the whitest lilies he could find, critically inspected to ensure that there weren't any brown speckles to blemish the petals.

It genuinely was surprising that every single florist in Gotham hadn't banished him from their shops.

There was no need to know Penguin particularly intimately to immediately link that name to his mother and Lee's frown deepened as she shook her head, lips slightly parted as she looked for the right words to tell Nygma that he couldn't possibly go on Oswald's mother's grave "Really?" She blurted out instead.

Much to her chagrin, Lee was endlessly fascinated by Edward's conflicting behaviours: he claimed that he wanted to destroy Oswald, take everything away from him in retaliation for ruining his last shot at having a normal relationship, but then he had also admitted to using drugs in order to hallucinate his former best friend and have a chat with him whenever he needed moral support or was feeling lonely - and now she discovered that Edward brought flowers on Gertrud's grave.

It made absolutely no sense.

Unless her little theory was right.

Edward flushed a bright pink "Really. The soul who sins shall die. The son shall not suffer for the iniquity of the father, nor the father suffer for the iniquity of the son"

"Have you just quoted the Bible to prove your point?"

"Ezekiel 18:20. My parents were very religious" Edward offered as an explanation, dismissing her slightly teasing smile and stared at her with a resolute and serious glance. He needed something more than the puzzles and exercises she gave him to train his mind; they stressed and depressed him, made him wonder about whether he'd been an idiot all along - a lying cheater, just like his father had claimed him to be for his whole childhood.

Maybe he had deserved every hard punch against his heaving ribs, every sharp lash of the belt to his quivering back, every cigarette butt burning the tender skin of his inner arms.

No, he couldn't afford to let such doubts take root in his head: Edward Nygma knew he had been abused by his parents, he knew it hadn't been his fault if they hadn't loved him because he was a little odd.

"Nygma, are you alright?"

Edward took a deep breath, fingers pressing down his lowered eyelids "I need to do this" he just said, trying not to sound too desperate.

"Breathe"

"I am breathing"

Lee rolled her eyes, somewhat fondly even as she still recognised the usual feeling of annoyance that Edward would have managed to awaken even in a saint "Do it properly" she retorted with a gentle murmur "I didn't mean to discourage you from this plan" on another plan? Sure "But.."

"But?"

"Two conditions"

That didn't sound too bad, he could deal with two conditions; Edward nodded, eyes following doctor Thompkins as he forced the ferocious thoughts spinning in a whirlwind in his mind to slow down "Alright"

Pleased, Lee leaned back against her chair "I'm coming with you and we won't go until we have Oswald's schedule pinned down to a reasonable level of accuracy"

Edward shook his head "He doesn't plan this sort of things" which had always drove him insane to no end: how could someone as powerful as Oswald stand to live his life in such a.. disorderly manner? Didn't he understand that structure was needed to manage his time as best as possible, avoiding waste? Apparently not, Oswald had always been adamant about the importance of... improvisation.

Edward wrinkled his nose at the thought, just as if he had tasted something that had gone off.

"Then we'll have to go when it's most unlikely that he will do so" Lee insisted; hadn't Nygma been purposefully rallying the Narrows up against Penguin with his little comedy act, maybe she wouldn't have worried so much about the two of them meeting on Gertrud's grave - on the contrary, she would have hoped for such a thing to happen so that, helped by the tenderness of the moment, they would finally talk and stop their ridiculous pining before they became the city's laughing stock.

Because Penguin was still so painfully in love with Edward - had someone of Oswald's goons actually believed the whole "out of revenge" spiel when he had let his enemy go? - and to anyone who bothered to look past Edward's rantings about how much he hated the other man, it was so clear that he still cared.

Personally, Lee thought they just needed to be honest with themselves and pull their heads out of their asses.

Not that she was going to be so blunt: she didn't even think Edward realised that it was alright being bisexual and being attracted to both genders - and it wasn't a realisation she was going to help him to have, he had to work it out on his own.

"Doctor Thompkins?"

"Sorry, I was distracted" Lee apologised "Could you repeat that?"

Edward scowled in annoyance; it already was difficult to string sentences up together sometimes, the least his doctor could do was listening to him without zoning out after thirty minutes "I said that Oswald is too unpredictable - even going out at night, which logic suggests to be the most unlikely time of the day to find him bringing flowers on his mother's grave, wouldn't work since he's quite the nocturnal creature" between working at the Lounge until the wee hours of morning and his insomnia - they had shared many cups of tea in front of the fireplace whenever they had found one another wandering around the Manor, sleep eluding them both - it wouldn't have surprised Edward if Oswald picked a ridiculously late hour to visit his mother "Why are you so concerned about us meeting? I'm not worth wasting any time on, now that I'm stupid"

Was it dejectiom that Lee could detect in Edward's voice? "Is that the reason behind your taunting?"

Edward gritted his teeth, voice leaving his mouth through them in a hiss "No, I'm not begging for his attention"

Except that he was. Lee sighed but let the subject drop, not wanting to make the other man even more upset than he already was "Alright"

"Alright?"

Lee nodded "Alright. When do you want to go?"

A sheepish smile slowly appeared on Edward's lips, dimpling his cheeks at the corners "Now? I already have picked the flowers up"

[evergloffpress]

Bottle of Blog: My Dinner with Stalin.

This is clearly a what-if scenario. I've seen this before as a writing prompt where the author would imagine what it would be like to break bread with a long-gone historical figure or one of the dearly departed.

Normally it would be someone the writer would actually enjoying having dinner with.

A favorite actor an author, inventor , a world leader, a loved one or spiritual guru of their choosing.

Though I figure some have opted to dine with those in league with shadow.

The real-life monsters that have left their scars upon the human narrative.

Hitler comes to mind right away but I surmise he has shared a few fictional table a few times over.

Also for those who believe that I have elected to bypass Hitler because I condone his actions, do yourself a favor and relax. It is a ridiculously offensive stretch in logic to do so.

I have come to the conclusion that he is overused as the poster child for evil that men do.

The Joker has Batman but he also has the Penguin or the Riddler. Quite a few fiends to choose from.

History is no different.

Chronicled demons have not just German dictators.

One of the worst was Russian.

Assuming we both spoke a shared language fluently I do believe my dinner with loseb Besarionis A.K.A Joseph Stalin with not involve much honest conversation.

I do not pretend that I am the expert on Stalin or a historical psychologist. So my analysis of his possible reactions are based solely on the literature I have read and the documentaries I have seen about him.

He would smile some. Chuckle to himself from time to time. Avoid direct questions or outright lie to my face.

This being such a unique experience it would not matter to me what I would have to eat.

My biggest question to him would be why?

Those versed in the the horrors that was the age of Stalin know why I would ask that.

How could you justify much less allow so much death and suffering to be perpetrated upon your own people?

All because of your supreme paranoia that you might lose your grip on power?

There where other ways. I am positive there must have been others venues. So many people sent to their deaths when they could have been far useful to their country in numerous ways. Not as slaves in the gulags or fodder for graves.

Scientists, doctors, and intellectuals done away with because of your own insecurity.

What they could have contributed to the world we will obvious never know.

I would ask the very questions many have inquired from him before but should he utter any truths I doubt his answers would either justify his actions or satisfy curiosity.

I imagine I would lose patience with him from the get-go. I have met people who would never admit to being wrong. Those who would rather look like a fool ten times over than to concede to an inaccuracy on their part.

I long ago stopped trying to reason with people like that.

Obsolete- adjective

No longer in general use, fallen into disuse.

I have an acquaintance who is as stubborn as a stack of mules.

We were one discussing the advancements of home media technology. Blu-rays being the belle of the ball at the time. I mentioned how their turn in the limelight would soon come to an end. For the ascension of the 4K discs were nigh. So I said Blu-rays would eventually be obsolete. However his definition of the word obsolete was technology that is no longer functional i.e broken. I countered with you can still get your hands on a vcr , a video cassette and a compatible tv and use them as originally intended. Proving that said tech could still be functional but has been passed over by newer advancements. His rebuttal was the epitome of willful ignorance. He said if he had the time to look up the definition of the word obsolete and found my definition next to it he would continue to use his understanding of the word. Suffice to say I had nothing else to say on the matter.

I not saying this person is as loathsome as Kobo himself.

I am saying that is how I imagine having dinner with Stalin would be like.

Now that I have given it half a thought I would probably have cheese ravioli with marinara sauce.

Oliver Evergloff

April 4rth-2019

[ilovetheriddler]

Hi, I don’t know if you’re still open to this kind of fic but what about the riddler stalking the reader and they are doing the same thing, so basically him meeting his match

I do still take these types of requests, so don't worry! I'd love to! This is funnily enough my second request that involves the riddler and stalking, I love it! You didn't specify what Version you wanted, so I'm just going to choose one at random! I'll be honest. I horribly misread part of your request and didn't realize until I had already finished the fic! I'm so sorry if this isn't exactly what you wanted, but I hope you enjoy it!

Mutual Observations.

(2022 Batman) Edward Nashton x F!Reader.

(Declaimer: I don't condone or approve of the actions taken in this story. It is purely a work of fiction.)

Word Count: 802.

Contents: Stalking, obsessive thoughts, kidnapping.

Edward had been following you, attempting to observe your every action for weeks now. You were one of the only three things that relentlessly plagued his mind. Which were his desire to cleanse gotham from its own corruption, puzzles, and, of course, you.

You were truly fascinating to him, He craved knowing every possible thing there was to know about you. What annoyed you, what you took pleasure and joy in, what would upset you, what scared you. All of it, he desperately needed to know all of it.

He found it interesting how you'd sneak around at night, even going as far as to break into a few places after hours. What exactly were you up to? The numerous possibilities intrigued him greatly.

The truth was that you were also looking into exposing Renewal for what it really was. You had countless relatives and friends who had been wronged by it, and you just couldn't stand by and do nothing. That's why you became a journalist. You wanted to expose the filthy corruption in this city, make it a better place for everyone who lived here.

Edward came upon this realization himself when he broke into your apartment while you were at work. You had all your collected evidence against renewal kept neatly in an overflowing folder on your desk, a lot more well-kept than his own setup at home.

He couldn't help the gleeful grin that came across his face as he looked through all of your files. You wanted the same thing as him. You wanted to clean up gotham, although with a less... extreme approach than he was taking. However, despite that, this was fantastic!

He was borderline giddy with how excited this revelation made him. You weren't like everyone else in this corrupted city. You wanted to help people. You were just like him.... you were absolutely perfect in his eyes, and he couldn't help but imagine what it would be like if you were willing to assist him in his endeavors as the riddler.

He tried to picture the way that you'd smile at him so kindly, you always did it with everyone else you saw, so why wouldn't you do it with him? He was sure that you would, after all... you both wanted the same thing ultimately, and he'd be oh so happy to help you, in his own way, that is.

He was positive that you'd love working with him. The two of you could have breakfast and dinner together. You could both compare your notes and evidence so far to help each other. He felt his face heat up considerably when he briefly thought of if you'd be okay with perhaps cuddling him at night? He knew, however, that he shouldn't attempt to push you, that he'll have to allow you time to properly adjust once he gets ahold of you.

Edward wasn't stupid. He knew that you wouldn't assist him willing, and that was fine. You were kind, sweet, and compassionate. It made sense in his mind why you wouldn't exactly approve of his methods. But that's okay... he was sure that you'd eventually warm up to his way of thinking.

It had been a few days since he originally broke into your apartment, and first formulated his plan to have you. And only a few hours ago, he had knocked you out and carried you back to his apartment. He knew that you'd be understandley upset and even scared of him, but that would all pass in due time, and he could wait.

He felt his heart rate speed up as he noticed that you were waking up. You were drowsy and disoriented, but you looked absolutely angelic to him.

Your eyes widened with fear as you fully regained consciousness and realized that you weren't at home. You screamed when you noticed the man sitting in a chair right next to you, just silently staring at you.

"Shh.... it's alright.... Everything is perfectly fine, I'm not going to hurt you...."

You glanced around his room in a panic and quickly noticed all of the newspapers and other notes, pictures, and more that he had all over his walls. All things relating to Renewal.

"W-why... do you have all of this stuff....?"

"Because.... I want the same thing that you do.... I want to see those who have wronged people pay...."

Something about the way that he said it made your skin crawl, and you couldn't exactly place what it was. You knew that you had to try to get out of here, but you also had no idea how potentially dangerous this man was. So it would be safest to play along until you worked out a way to escape.

You just genuinely hoped that it wouldn't backfire on you.

[thepuzzlepirate]

3. As a child, your character wrote a letter to their future self.

@alloftheprompts​

Edward Nygma/The Riddler - any-verse really, comic-verse, Gotham-verse, Arkham-verse etc.

T/W: Child abuse

It had been years since he’d seen the pale green stationary that now rested in his hands, while his eyes traced across the exceptionally neat handwriting that felt just as familiar and just as distant as the feel of the paper itself. He recognised it of course: it was the exact same set he’d owned as a boy, picked up from some silly little shop because it had looked pretty but then never really used, because who did he have to send letters to? And of course, it was easy to see that the writing on the front of the envelope was his too, if a little larger and straighter than the way he wrote now. There was no address written though, just a name. His name. 

Always odd, seeing something addressed to you from you, but it was starting to stir a memory. Years ago, hadn’t he hidden a letter to himself, in the hopes he would read it in the future? There were email systems that could do that now too, it was still a popular activity apparently. He couldn’t remember what he’d written about of course, but he found a little flurry of excitement begin to build inside him as he turned over the envelope to carefully tease the letter out of it. 

Thank goodness he’d decided to look through his old things! He’d been aiming to locate one of his old puzzle books, one he had a very specific memory of because there had been one page in there he’d never managed to complete. To this day, he was still certain it had been because of a typo, and he now had the authority to confirm that was the case. He still intended to finish looking for it later, but the small green rectangle that had fallen from the pages of one of his old school textbooks had captured his interest for now.

The handwriting on the letter inside had Ed smiling slightly before he’d even begun to read it. Nostalgia was odd; he never really thought about his childhood, for good reason in his opinion, but he was strangely happy to just get this opportunity to glimpse into a fragment of it. With the emotion still tugging at the corner of his lips, he straightened the paper out in his hands, and let his gaze begin to scan down the page.

Dear Me,

I hope this letter finds you well. As I write this I am nine years old, but I don’t know how old you are. I’m going to hide this really well so dad can’t find it, so it might be awhile before it gets dug out again. I got the idea for this from school. We had to do one in class and then the teacher collected them in, but I think she’s just going to throw them away and I wanted to make sure the future me actually got to read one. This one’s a bit more personal too. Oh yeah, and the idea was we had to start every paragraph with ��I hope’, so I’m going to try and do that too.

I hope life is good to you. That seems like a good place to start. I don’t know what I want to do yet for a job, but you probably have a great career, and you’re probably making loads of money and showing everyone how clever you are. You should be doing anyway. If you’re not, go do it now! And if you ever manage to invent time travel, you should come back and tell me what you’re doing so I can actually give an answer when we do the ‘World of Work’ day next week because I don’t know what to say at the moment.

I hope you’re still super clever at your age. I hope that stays, I’m already smarter than some of the adults I’ve met so it seems likely. I hope we stay top of the class every year, and I hope everyone gets to see how well we’re doing and gets really jealous of us! I hope the teachers are really proud of how well we’re doing too, and I hope they give us prizes and stuff to show it.

I hope we keep getting better at some of the hard things too. I don’t mean in academics or anything, I’m doing really well at school, obviously. I mean some of the things I get told off for, I hope we get better at those. Like not asking too many questions, and not ignoring people when they talk to us, and not talking for too long about ‘boring things’. 

I hope we get better at those because I don’t like what happens when I get it wrong. So I hope that doesn’t happen to you anymore. I hope it stops really soon actually. I don’t cheat anymore. I only did once, and I know I shouldn’t have, so I think I deserved it when dad hit me for that. But I’m trying really hard not to upset him again, so I hope it works. I know sometimes I don’t understand why he does it, so I’m not sure I know exactly what I’m doing wrong every time, but if I just keep trying to get better then I’m sure it’ll all stop eventually. So what I’m trying to say I think is I hope that happens soon. I know it’ll all be better by the time you read this. You’ll probably be laughing at how silly I’m being about it. That makes me feel better actually.

I hope I won’t get in trouble for getting found out again as well, because I’ve got really good at hiding the bruises so nobody asks about them. I hope that carries on working, but I suppose you’ll know if it does or not. I suppose I shouldn’t be focusing on this so much, I didn’t include any of this in the letter for school after all. I can’t remember what I wrote for that one though. I know a lot of kids wrote about their parents and I suppose I’m sort of doing that now. 

I hope one day we make dad proud too. Because I do think we’re clever, even if he doesn’t see it yet.

Good luck doing whatever you’re doing! Edward Nygma

The paper was already partly crumpled in the hand that had shifted into a fist as he’d read its contents, and it took Ed a few moments more before he could do anything more than centre his focus on keeping his breathing level and calm. He wasn’t even certain what emotion this was. Anger? It must have been something like that, but it was warped by the odd sense of fear the memories from this silly little letter had stirred up. He could remember writing those words now, at least vaguely anyway. That excessive amount of ‘hope’ had been more than just a linguistic device enforced by the class teacher - it had been how he’d really felt at the time. It had been part of a desperate desire to picture the future as a bright one, because his present was so dim.

And if this channel of communication could actually open both ways, if he suddenly did invent time travel to go back and talk to his younger self about what his future had entailed... what would he tell him? This bright-eyed child surely wouldn’t condone Ed’s current course of action, even if he knew now that this was truly who he was. He could at least impress the kid with his continued cleverness - though he hadn’t been at all surprised to see how important that was even to his younger shelf. And as for not getting into so much trouble with his father... well... he was out of that house now, yes, but that had been when it had finally stopped, and not a moment before. It wasn’t until he was physically out of his father’s reach that he stopped bearing the brunt of his aggression.

It was strange almost, that he was still so shaken up by just the recollection of such events, when he was surely more than capable of dealing with such a monster now. But even with a body count as large as his, even with a criminal record to rival any of the other Rogues of Gotham, even with the confidence he exuded in seemingly every aspect of his life from his wardrobe to his eccentric love of riddles... he didn’t think he was brave enough to face that man again.

He’d tried to once. He’d made it to the street of his house too, only a couple of minute’s walk away from the familiar front door, when he’d suddenly frozen up. It didn’t make any sense; he was an intimidating man now, someone who could and would do damage to anyone who tried to cross him. People feared him, they actively backed away when they saw the familiar question mark cane he sported. He was strong now, so much stronger than back then. And yet he couldn’t bring himself to move any closer. The fantasy of getting his revenge, levelling the score finally, returning the favour for all those years of mistreatment with a few choice attacks of his own... it shattered in that moment, and Ed found himself fleeing the scene without taking a single step closer.

It was... embarrassing, that even after so many years apart his father still held so much power over him that just the idea of seeing him again was enough to have The Riddler running away with his tail between his legs.

He hadn’t noticed the paper beginning to shake in his fingers, as the tension building up in his fist became harsh enough to send tremors through his hand. He only released his grip when he finally caught the movement out of the corner of his eye, and he quickly took the opportunity to fold the letter closed again. He slid it back into the envelope, and his hand hesitated for a moment as he turned towards the fireplace on the other side of the room. This had done nothing but stir up bad memories, he wanted nothing more to do with it, but... he couldn’t help but picture little nine-year-old Eddie, sealing the envelope off, giddy with excitement for when the letter inside would see the light of day again. How disappointed would he be to know it was now being discarded so callously?

Ed was not a hugely sentimental person, so it was much to his surprise that he felt his hand retracting and bringing the letter back towards him. A few moments more of internal struggling, and the envelope found itself tucked into the inner pocket of his jacket. Which didn’t mean anything, it just meant he would throw it out later. For now though... well, he wasn’t sure he’d be inventing a time machine any time soon, but perhaps the letter (which was quickly becoming the embodiment of his younger self in his head), would enjoy coming along on a day in the life of The Riddler. Because although it might not have been exactly how he’d imagined his life would pan out back when he was nine, Edward was damn proud of how far he’d come.

[ilovetheriddler]

I’d really like to see you write something for an Origins Riddler being obsessed for the reader (love his design in that game) could be hcs or a short fic, whatever you prefer

I love his design in Origins so much! This was actually really interesting to think about since this is technically the youngest we see Eddie in the Arkhamverse, so it's interesting to think about how much would change over time in between origins to Arkham Knight in terms of how he would act in this regard. I hope that you enjoy it!

A puzzle that you can't solve.

(Arkham Games) Edward Nigma x F!Reader.

(Declaimer: I don't condone or approve of the actions taken in this story. It is purely a work of fiction.)

Word Count: 684.

Contents: Extremely obsessive behavior, stalking, character death, but it's not you or him.

How peculiar.... Eddie wasn't sure why he felt so strange whenever he saw you, but he was determined to figure it out. It was like a puzzle, an unfinished riddle! Left for him to solve. From the moment he first noticed you in passing, he knew that you were someone who could possibly entertain him, maybe not as his full equal, after all he was unrivaled in his brilliance, but maybe as a close second perhaps? That would be ideal.

He was quite surprised when he found out that your father was one of the older detectives who worked at the GCPD. How interesting, indeed... more specifically, an officer that frequently aired his grievances with Edward's "attitude," whatever that meant. Maybe that was one of the things that helped feed into his growing obsession with you? Knowing that your father greatly despised him.

It started off small, with him hacking into your university's computer to obtain your class schedules so that he'd know where you were and when. All so he could watch you with baited breath over the college security cameras, which he also gained access to fairly easily. You were in your last year of college, and overall, based on what you what studying, he could tell that you'd be extremely interesting to keep around by his side.

It soon escalated, though, to him finding your apartment and leaving small little notes and trinkets on your doorstep. You always looked intrigued by them yet also somewhat concerned. It made him question whether you had put the pieces together yet and realized that someone was watching you... or perhaps it would just be a puzzle that you couldn't solve until he gave you the answer, so to speak.

After several weeks of this, he started to grow irritated and bored. Things weren't moving fast enough for him, and the moment he noticed some other person asking you out and you telling them that you'd think about it, he knew that he had to act fast. He had to properly introduce himself soon and sweep you off your feet before some imbecile beat him to it!

Now.... When he decided to kill two birds with one stone, he knew that he could never let you truly find out. No, you'd be horrified to learn that the man that caused your father's death had been him. It was perfect. He got to test out his new puzzle trap that he had been trying to perfect, and your father got to be the unwilling tester. It was perfect! He was rid of some fool who slighted him a few times before and he would be able to show up at his funeral and approach you, playing the part of the sympathetic coworker trying to comfort you in such a devastating moment.

"Good afternoon, my dear... you have my deepest condolences for your loss. It was... truly tragic and unimaginable that someone would target a great detective like him...."

"Oh, um... thank you, do I know you? Did you work with my father?"

He throws one of his arms around your shoulder, pulling you closer, attempting to frame it as an act of comfort instead of just a selfish attempt to get you closer to him.

"Technically, I did. We didn't work closely together. He also wasn't too fond of me either... however, despite our differences, it's such a.... tragedy that he was taken so soon...."

"Well... i um.... I'm sure he'd appreciate you showing up to his funeral, even if he didn't really like you much...."

He slowly moves his hand down, rubbing your back softly. He was overjoyed by the fact that he finally had his chance to be close to you and actually hold you, but he had to keep up the act. He had to act somewhat distraught.

"Of course, and.... if you ever need anything, then simply get in touch with me, my dear...."

He quickly jolted down his number on a piece of paper and slipped it into your hand. Unbeknownst to you, sealing your fate as the object of his obsession.

[ilovetheriddler]

Ooooooohhhhhhh now I gotta ask you to get in depth about the worst aspects of a yandere AK Eddie. (Gn) reader not even really reciprocating 'cause they just see him as a friend, the riddles freaking them out, trying to leave him for at least a while, being put in a cage.. all that good stuff. A fic or headcanons please, whichever you want to do. Thanks 💚

Well, you want the worst of our dearest Eddie? I'm more than happy to oblige! I hope that you enjoy it!

Caged and Riddled.

(Arkham Games) Edward Nigma x GN!Reader.

(Declaimer: I don't condone or approve of the actions taken in this story. It is purely a work of fiction.)

Word Count: 715.

Contents: Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior.

It had all started simple enough. Sometimes, Eddie could act a bit... strange in your eyes, obsessive and perhaps even a bit possessive at times, but you usually thought nothing of it. At least... until he started leaving those riddles for you. You had been used to getting his riddles before, so originally, it was nothing new, but eventually they changed in tone... and it made you feel nervous.

You tried to just ignore the riddles. Maybe Eddie was just going through some weird slump, and that was causing it? Yeah, that had to be it. But once you realized that there was definitely a romantic and sexual undertone to some of his behavior, you tried to let him down easy. Eddie was an extremely intelligent man. He'd surely understand that you just didn't see him that way.

"Listen, Mr Nigma, sir, it's nothing personal.... but I just view you as a friend and boss, you know?"

"......i... see..... how interesting..."

Overall, he wasn't screaming or throwing a fit at your statement, so you took that as a great sign... which was a horrible oversight on your part. He was simply choosing to wait and think this through, thinking of the most ideal way to make you realize how foolish you were being....

You were infuriated when you opened your dresser only to find every article of clothing you owned covered in stupid question marks! You angrily marched into Eddie's workshop, slamming your hands down on his desk.

"What the hell is this, Eddie?!"

"Hmm? I'm simply just staking my claim, making it known to the various gutter rats of this city that you belong to me. Is that really such an outlandish thing?"

"B-belong to you?! I don't belong to you! This is ridiculous!"

Later that night, you decided you'd had enough of how Eddie had been acting recently and packed up everything you could and left his lair.... or at least you tried to. You got about 15 minutes away from there before you were ambushed by one of his latest robotic contraptions and dragged back to his lair, where you were immediately met with the sight of a frantic and incredibly worried and annoyed Riddler.

"Ah! There you are! Now.... I can't believe that you'd be foolish enough to actually try and run away from me! Am I not good enough for you?! I provide you a place to sleep, food, clothes, and anything else you need!"

"You can't keep me here! In fact.... I quit!"

He went dead silent. His expression became neutral and blank for a moment before turning into a smug grin.

"Oh, that's where you're wrong, my dear! You can't fucking quit! It's in the damn contract that you willingly signed without reading...."

You let out a confused and surprised squeal as you're thrown into a fairly large cage next to his workbench he usually sits at. There's a fluffy and soft blanket lining the bottom, so it's not as uncomfortable as it could be, but it's still a cage! He holds the contract in front of the cage, pointing towards the part he wants you to look closely at. Sure enough, right there it is. It can't be ethical, but it's written there.... By signing this agreement, then you're accepting that you're not allowed to quit while I, The Riddler, your employer, has use for you.

"T-that can't be legal!"

"....You're working for a supervillain. How is anything about your employment legal? Hmm?"

You go quiet.... damn it, he had a point. He went back to working on his latest project.

"Now... if you behave yourself in there, then I might allow you to actually sleep in your bed instead of the cage tonight. Is that what you want?"

You nodded reluctantly. You'd find a way out of this eventually, but for now, it was best to follow along without much question. He stared at you for a second, his smug grin growing even more ecstatic as he leaned closer to the cage.

"Perfect.... now, I want you to repeat something for me.... Say, "I love you so much, Eddie..."... if you do, then I might just reduce the amount of time you have to stay in the cage overall!"

".....I... I love you so much.... Eddie..."