#i keep forgetting about other riddlers;;

[hiero-green]

god i need a light brown wig so bad i HAVE to cosplay riddler someday, i KNOW i have the face for him

[honey-milk-depresso]

Batfam x reader going to an escape room

Gesus I went insane from this, I was too lazy to do Babs and Bruce I’m sorry- 😭😭

***S/o is above 18, which means characters below are also aged up!

Batfam x S/o VS Escape Rooms

Dick Grayson

God forbid you bring him to a horror-themed escape room. He can fight Joker, Slade, almost get killed like three days a week but he’s scared of them nasty ass sound effects when you unlock a clue and begin jumping on you while screaming until he stops and goes “oh hey, a clue-”

Sometimes keep pointing at the wrong kinds of clues. Like the ones that have the sticker label that says “NOT PART OF ROOM” and can still ask, “is this a clue???”

If you’re scared, both of you can cling together although both of you would push each other to try to punch in the coordinates because you fear the whacky effects this escape room offers.

He will, however, do everything you tell him when trying to solve puzzles. Dick will sacrifice all his loud sound fear and do it for you. Otherwise if you’re brave enough (magically) he’ll just look from behind and clap with amazement.

Whether you two escape or not… usually not. You guys get stuck there most of the time although he wouldn’t be so jumpy and can focus if you two pick a non-horror-themed escape room. You two still had fun though and that’s all that matters. <3

Jason Todd

I felt like he might’ve destroyed the props inside the room out of frustration. Horror themed or not, this man can get frustrated over puzzles he’s failing at. Like one time this man was punching in possible combinations as stated in the piece of paper you two found (miraculously) that had a riddle to the password of the lock the two of you were trying to open and ends up breaking the lock with his bare hands out of frustration that the host had to rush in after catching all that on camera.

He keeps complaining, “that shit is more nonsensical than Riddler’s riddles, goddamnit!” He just wants to win and get out of here with you. That’s the whole POINT.

The one who keeps making sarcastic jokes about all the clues like “this guy puts ‘DEATH’ as the password, how original”, “wow. Who could’ve guessed the VAMPIRE out of the three options where the two others are HUMANS is the killer. Incredible.” You’ll never here the end of it-

If you’re scared, he’ll hold you closer to him (while he slowly loses his shit to colour coordinated buttons) and secretly likes how you cling to him if you are scared. If not, he’s appreciative you try to calm him down and help him stay focus.

You two would sometimes get out, sometimes not successfully, but all the time you’d usually get a bill to pay for the damaged props. Couple goals. <3

Tim Drake

He is full on lock mode INTO this escape room game. By this point, you two are just speed-running through this to get out and win.

Tim is a detective with an IQ of 142 after all, so most of the escape rooms are just easy for him that you complain isn’t fun anymore. Thus, you two go for the really hard ones and I mean those REALLY hard ones like “The Caretaker” kinda with a 1.5% success rate THEN would things get interesting.

Tim likes a challenge, and he gets even more determined to be successful in escaping. He’s not scared of the props, even in horror-themed because he’s super driven to win. If you get scared of horror-themed, and even more terrifying is that it has such a low success rate he’s still by your side trying to reassure you while trying to solve the clues to get the both of you to the next section. Most of the time, you two get out. He gets super salty if he was about to key in the code to get out but just that split second he ran out of time and the both you didn’t get out. Kiss his cheek so he’ll completely forget being salty and more red-faced. <3

Damian Wayne

Like Jason, might’ve break a few props in the process of being frustrated. He’s laser focused in winning and escaping, it’s just that he’s frustration bubbles up easily in an escape room when he come across a particularly challenging roadblock he might push away his rationality and break the lock with his bare hands like Jason (dude how??).

He’s not scared of escape rooms, and maybe for the cheaper ones he’ll think are lame: commenting on how fake the blood is or how plastic-y the skull is with his bad painting. If you’re scared though, he’s silently celebrating the fact he gets to hold you close all while having a straight face.

Inside, his brain is yelling “YESSSSSSS- THANK YOU LORD FOR LETTING ME HOLD THEM IN MY ARMS AND-”

Yeah- pretty much just sums up the most chaotic experience for you or at least, whatever goes on his head.

Usually would get out with him, although sometimes you two would find a bill to pay for broken props but it’s not as bad as Jason’s count so don’t worry. <3

Duke Thomas

He’s pretty good at escaping actually. Well, he’s not as fast as Tim, but if given an hour on an average escape room, Duke can get out with you in maybe 50 minutes flat.

Of course, he’s not gonna try escaping an escape room with a success rate of 1.5% like Tim is, he knows his limits.

Has fun in horror and non-horror themed escape rooms alike. He’s mildly scared of the horror ones, maybe just be slightly jumpy but he won’t scream hysterically or anything. He’ll probably laugh it off and focus on figuring out the clues.

Maybe throw in a joke or two like, “wow, this guy just gives us the password through people’s surnames that are all colour names. If only it was that easy in stakeout mission-”

If you’re scared, he’s there for you and reminds you it’s fake. You’re not gonna die here (because this isn’t a twisted kind of escape room set up by Joker or anything like that, it’s an entertainment one so it’s okay-) and is pretty chill about the whole thing.

Pretty high success rate to escape for most escape rooms and definitely a lot of fun with him even if you guys fail! <3

Cassandra Cain

Also pretty high success rate of getting out of your average escape room, but she also might be another one to break the props but usually by accident.

She might be a little frustrated rattling with the locker and wondering what other possible the lock combination could work when she accidentally uses her strength and kinda… breaks the lock by accident. The two of you would look at each other as Cass slowly just… puts the lock away and gets to the next clue while the two of you act like nothing happened.

Very calm and collected and she’s just unfazed with the horror-themed escape rooms. She’s seen far worse and in fact, she thinks the horror-themed ones are fun that she’s seen smiling more while solving each clue.

If you’re scared of the props, she tried to reassure you they’re face by showing the blood is fake and the skulls are fake (and then accidentally breaks them somehow or drops the fake blood on the floor-) as she tried to reassure you.

Overall, 10/10 good time with Cass. <3

Stephanie Brown

Okay so… she’s focused, yes, but she takes a really long time to think. Just a tad bit. Might be like Dick: points to the prop that has a “NOT PART OF ESCAPE ROOM” label and goes “is this a clue???”

She’s trying, she really is. Has a pretty normal chance of escaping with you but usually with only 5 minutes left or less. I think the most insane one was when you and her finally broke out on the dot when one hour was over and it was time’s up. The host was just doing that white guy blinking meme thing and was like- “huh- okay-”

She’s kinda jumpy in horror-themed escape rooms, but she’s not like Dick to scream her lungs out. Maybe just let out a yelp or “HOLY SHI—” out loud and be like “goddamnit” when she quickly recovers.

If you’re scared, it’s okay she’s got you! Even if she’s a bit startled in the beginning, she’ll be your (mostly) knight in shining armour!

She jokes a lot about the props around like: “Lmao, this goofy horse painting’s like Jason”, “Why the skull look so poorly painted on the eyes”, “What is with that silly sounding witch laugh, lmao” to lighten up the mood.

Funny times with Steph in there so 10/10. <3

Reblogs help! ^^

[littlefankingdom]

"World's Greatest Detective" is not a real thing. How would you even determine that? There's no competition putting detectives from all around the world against each others. And, Bruce is not someone that boast about his exploits, he does what he does because it's the right thing to do. He doesn't even see himself as a "good guy", because he thinks what he is doing is what needs to be done. Yes, he is prideful but he isn't this type of guy. He cannot be the one that came up with it.

So, I hc that it's Dick, small young Dick, who flies from roof to roof with Batman, who calls him that first. It's clearly something a child would do, as they will also call their parents "the best dad/mom" or "the most beautiful". It is during a debriefing with some cops, after one of them vocalises how impress they are by what Batman found, that little Robin exclaims "Duh, he's the world's greatest detective!" What are you supposed to do, then? Tell your adorable kid that, no, you aren't the world's greatest detective, that doesn't exist? Tell Batman's kid, in front of Batman, that he is wrong and it doesn’t exist? Do you have a death wish??? The good answer is: "You're right, he's the world's greatest detective.". And when a criminal captures Robin and boasts that Batman will never find him, the lil bird answers: "B will find us, because he's the world's greatest detective!". And, look at him, he isn't wrong, Batman does find them and gets his boy back safe and sound.

Little Robin keeps calling Batman "the world's greatest detective" and people start to do so too. "It should be easy if you really are the world's greatest detective!" taunts the Riddler, "The world's greatest detective is on his way" tells Gordon to his team, "Superman? Pff, we have the world's greatest detective, here!" brag Gothamites...

As Robin grows, he stops doing it, but it stays. As time goes on, people forget who started it. Was it Batman himself? Was it a rogue mocking him? Even Dick forgets, as some memories leave us with time. Only one man remembers: Batman himself, Bruce Wayne.

So, when anyone calls him "world's greatest detective", even to tease or mock him, he doesn't correct it. That's what his baby called him. And when Dick Grayson, now Nightwing, tells him "Man, aren't you supposed to be the world's greatest detective or something?" while they work on a case together, he thinks back to the little Robin who first called him that, and a small smile invites itself on his lips.

[brucewaynehater101]

So there's a fic that I think you will like. It's called The Definition of Valor by Nerdpoe. Really short, spoiler free summery. Instead of loosing his Spleen, Tim looses his eyes. He makes special gadgets to help him with this, such as a device in is cowl that scans the room he is in and tells him what is where via coded sounds, like say, two low A notes followed by a chirp means there is a wooden desk to the north east of him. He also makes a special computer program for his grapple so when he points it somewhere, it will adjust his aim so he never misses and always attaches to a good spot.

This fic is giving me *so many* thoughts about the potential fall out of this being found out not as soon as Tim gets back to Gothem because he never tells anyone. Specifically it's making me think about Tim who is Bruce's dad not telling Bruce because he doesn't want to worry his son. He doesn't want to worry his grandchildren/siblings either so he puts in colored contacts and wears glasses when his cowl isn't on. The glasses and an ear piece have the same tech as his cowl to tell him where everything is.

How long would it take them to find out? Tim would never tell them, so do they find out on accident because Tim forgot the contacts that are his normal eye color, or because Ras is mad at Tim and tells them what Ras did to Tim? Maybe he got to mad and while ranting at a Rouge (either Harley or Two Face would be especially funny if he's just been hanging upside down and ranting and raving fo 30 minuets already) over one of their traps, he accidentally lets slip that he's blind, or maybe he yells at Riddler, "Nygma, this isn't fair! I've been completely blind since last July and my usual tech that tells me what's around me is getting fucked by your signal jammer! So either read the riddle to me out loud or let me go!" and then later Riddler scolds one of the other Bats for letting the blind one do the visual puzzles much to their confusion.

Hi!!! I love that fic so much! Have you seen the sequel for it as well? It's short, but a great read. I would die for more of this concept.

In that fic, Bruce turns out to be a good dad. While I may hate Bruce, the way that guy handles the situation in that fic is fantastic.

However, I would like a fic where this concept gets a delayed reveal. In the AU, Tim figures out how to function without his eyes.

He engineers technology to read people's facial expression/body language to help him out. It reads words for him, etc.

I wonder what excuse he'd give for wearing the earpiece and glasses all the time. Maybe he says it's another aspect to separate Timothy Drake from Red Robin?

Just Tim gaslighting and girlbossing his way into pretending he can still see. I kind of want him to keep up the ruse for a long while.

When he does get found it, it'd be hilarious if the others forget he's blind. Tim has engineered technology to assist him, but he still can't see. So they'll try to take him to activities they did together when he could see (like star gazing) or they'll ask him what he thinks of the color of their outfit. He also ruthlessly uses his blindness as an excuse to mess with people. If Timothy Drake-Wayne is known to be blind, he'll use it to accuse Luthor of being ableist at every chance he'll get. He also bullies the shit out of governmental agents and companies that don't provide accommodations.

I'm also a fan of Riddler finding out about it, but him just changing his puzzles to be accommodating. I'm biased towards Riddler (I love him so much) so it'd be cool to see the silent show of support like that.

Another AU idea: When Tim blows up Ra's bases, the explosions cause him to become deaf or hard-of-hearing.

Dealer's choice on how much hearing he loses, but I feel like this could be great to explore deafness and misconceptions commonly held in our society.

Tim would probably already know how to sign and lip read (might even know multiple different sign languages), but he would face a few difficulties.

He chooses not to disclose his hearing loss

People often cover their mouths or face away from someone when speaking (which makes lip reading arduous)

Ableist people suck

The world is set up for hearing people, so a lot of issues stem from a lack of accommodations rather than Tim's ability to hear

Tim chose not to tell anyone about the change in hearing for a few reasons: he doesn't trust anyone (especially during his adjustment period) and he doesn't want to be underestimated (wants to prove himself in the field before they try to pull him from it).

As far as technology to help him, the comms were easier to program than other auditory inputs. Since they were designed to transmit clear voices, he merely has to train a program to automatically close caption whatever is spoken (the automatic ones used today are useful, but still make too many errors for Tim's preference. Some also only do words automatically and leave out helpful information like laughing, choking, screaming, computer dings, etc.). Each Bat member has their own designated color. For those he doesn't interact with often, it says their name before every time they speak up.

Tim incorporates the visual overlay into his goggles and glasses. He can read what people contribute to the conversation based on that. It also leaves his hands free so he doesn't need to look down. His wrist computer stores records of what has been said so Tim can go back over it if he misses it. He also has the ability to change where the words appear on his field of vision.

I also hc Alfred is the first to notice that Tim is staring intently at his lips when he talks and has difficulties with the conversation when Alfred changes the way he pronounces words or isn't facing Tim (this is before Tim's tech gets perfected). From then on, Alfred makes a point of facing Tim whenever the teen is in the room. They both don't talk about it until the rest of the family finds out (however long that takes).

Feel free to add more to either AU!

[do-you-ship-this-comic-ship]

propaganda:

This is for all of my fellow Two-Face and Gilda lovers out there! Personally I think that BruHarvey as a ship is underrated because of how much more popular other Rogues are (especially the Joker and the Riddler), and the prominence of ships between Bruce and various members of the Justice League (and of course the various comp het ships DC keeps trying to force Bruce into).

In comparison Harvey just doesn't really capture the fandom's imagination as much. Therefore BruHarvey isn't super popular because they don't consider it as an option a lot of the time. But that being said, I also find that a lot of people when presented with BruHarvey as a possible ship will be pretty amenable to it! It's just a fantastic ship if you want some old man/toxic/tragic yaoi! The ship has so much going for it! Childhood friends to lovers. Enemies to lovers. Friends in their civilian identities, as they try to pursue justice for Gotham together, and even friends after Harvey becomes a villain too! It's SO juicy and has SO much unexplored potential if DC weren't COWARDS and would just let Brucie kiss men already! Each of their themes of justice, duality, and redemptive love mirror one another in such an exceedingly tantalizing way that I could write a whole college thesis on it! But I'm not just here about them. I'm also here for my girl Gilda too!

Now BruHarvey may be an underrated ship... And Two-Face as a character is just about rated as a character (not underrated. Not overrated. Just rated). But Gilda...? My poor, poor girl Gilda! Writers never know what to do with her and refuse to give her the justice she deserves!!! Gilda is a big part of the reason why Two-Face was able to work so well as a character and concept all the way back in the 40's in the first place! I don't think that Harvey would have been as iconic of a character with as much staying power as he does with just... SO MANY imitators if it weren't for Gilda's presence and ability to help Harvey redeem himself! The whole point of Harvey as a character is that while he might be a villain, he is never too far gone as to not deserve a chance at redemption. He genuinely cannot help himself when it comes to the compulsion of doing crime. And in his original stories, he was able to redeem himself and reach a happy ending with Gilda helping him, supporting him, and loving him through that journey.

The reason that Batman doesn't kill is largely because of Harvey himself! His childhood friend that he deeply cares about, and who, no matter how much society at large, and even Harvey himself tells Bruce that he is beyond saving, that he still cares about nevertheless and will NEVER give up on! And Gilda was the first person to never give up on Harvey and was the one to lead him back to the light! In a time where Batman might still occasionally use a gun and where the punishment most criminals would recieve in the comics was death or a lifetime of jail, never to be seen again, Two-Face stood out because of his redemption! A redemption that the writers of the comics stuck to for decades in spite of a clear demand to have Two-Face back as a threat! (Hence the many, many imitators.) And sure, the helpless damsel who saves the bad guy through the power of love may be a tired trope these days, but it's still one that can work very well, and as a woman first written in the 40's Gilda actually has a surprising amount to her that later writers would forget or just outright ignore! Gilda clearly was a female character who had more going on in her life other than her boyfriend at the time she was first written. She was actually a sculptor!

A woman with her own well-respected career entirely divorced from her DA boyfriend's! And while Harvey was her primary muse, I have doubts that her career just stopped when he turned to crime! After all, she seems to have been a woman who owned a house and lived on her own and had enough wealth to spend her free time going to the movies (and apparently buying herself mysterious cloaks). In the 1940's! We love a woman who can get everything on her own without needing a man (though it is a nice bonus) in this household! And she was doing it as an artist when that stuff was less common! And her other biggest trait is her unshaking love and loyalty for Harvey. I think that it's genuinely interesting how the crime and murder matters very little to Gilda (and similar characters that fill her role in stories). What she doesn't like is how he lies and tries to decieve her specifically. She would die for Harvey. She would kill for Harvey. She will stay with and help him through thick and thin. No matter what.

And very few pieces of media do her character justice! The Long Halloween may ostensibly be about her, but they gave her nothing in her life other than the men she associates with, a desire for children, and murder. Not even a hint that she was a sculptor, barely a hint that she studied law or anything that other iterations offered! She's my girl! And she could honestly offer a number of very interesting story posibilities, if only writers saw her potential! But clearly they don't given that for the last several decades, they've been writing her out of stories, or killing her off in brutal fashion so that they don't have to deal with the question of what she's up to while Harvey is doing his crime stuff. Hell. Gilda was the catalyst for the Long Halloween, so why isn't Dark Victory about nor even include her in person!??? Why not explore her being Duela Dent's mother!? Why not show her standing by Bruce's side while the both of them try to help Harvey recover!??? Why do the writers try to make Harvey NOT a wife guy!? Why can't they let Gilda be around and Harvey's wife that's cooler and more chill than him!? Why must Harvey be single!? By far he has the best romantic chemistry with (out of anyone who isn't Gilda) Bruce and no other major character! But if you stick Harvey and Bruce together for that sweet, sweet tragic yaoi and angst... Well... First of all DC are COWARDS who refuse to let Bruce be into dudes. And second of all, why not just let Bruce, Harvey, and Gilda be together and poly!!!? But I'm no coward! Double the partners means double the chances for tragedy and angst! (Or comedy if you'd like!) And double the possibilities for love, recovery, and redemption! Gilda wouldn't and shouldn't give up on Harvey!

And Bruce and Gilda cheating on Harvey without his blessing!??? BROKE! Them being in a polycule? Excellent! And if you need any proof that Bruce, Harvey, and Gilda could be a functional polycule, you should read the daily newspaper Batman comics as archived on @daily-batman! Because they make a GREAT case for it there, and seeing their relationship develop in that story is just delightful! Harvey watches Batman (that he's half figured out is Bruce) kiss his wife (named Alice but like... She's CLEARLY just Gilda with a different name!) and isn't bothered by it AT ALL other than it giving her hope that he can get better! Kissing his wife? That he understands and is perfectly fine with. But giving her HOPE!!!??? Now THAT'S a line too far! Sounds like something someone poly might do! And also... That series finale!!! Lol. Harvey getting jealous of and trying to kill Bruce for thinking that he's stealing his girl? Nah. Broke. Harvey being a-okay with Bruce smooching his wife because he's already in love with Bruce too...? HELL YEAH! Let's do it! Who needs love triangles when you can have power throuples instead!??? Join the few of us that enjoy the ship! And give Gilda and BruHarvey the love they deserve!!!!

Also just LOOK at the image I sent and tell me that it DOESN'T look like Bruce, Harvey, and Gilda are getting poly-married! BruHarvey is juicy and even more juicy with the added DLC of Gilda in the mix! And Gilda deserves the whole world! Give them the world!

[mimicmimikyuwrites]

There's A First For Everything - Edward Nashton (The Riddler) x Fem!Reader SMUT

Summary: You've been dating Edward for a few months now, and you're finally ready to take a more intimate step in your relationship with him. His lack of experience, as well as yours, leads to a clumsy, yet enjoyable night neither of you will forget. (Alternatively: two virgins have sex for the first time.)

Contents/Possible Warnings: P in V sex, Loss of virginity, Reader is a virgin, Edward is also a virgin, unprotected sex, creampie, handjob, singular mention of alcohol consumption (no one is drunk/tipsy), soft sex, slight praise kink, fluff, SMUT, MDNI

Other Notes: I haven't written anything in months, so my apologies if this isn't too good. Trying to get back into the swing of things. Enjoy!! 💚

It had only been a little under half a year since you had met and befriended Edward after meeting him through a friend of yours who worked with him, and about three months since you started dating him, but you had never fallen for someone so strong and quickly before. He was timid, and at times a bit awkward, but past that he held an intelligence and sweetness that made your heart fill to the brim and swell with a wonderful feeling of pure admiration and love that made you wonder how you previously lived without it.

As much as it pained you to admit, you've never been good at relationships. Whether it be your own fears or a lack of genuine connection between you and your partner at the time, something always left things ending sooner than you'd have liked them to. For the first time in what felt like ages, though, you were finally seeing a glimmer of hope in your love life.

You loved him, and that made you believe the concept of there being "the one" truly existed. You wanted to love him in every way you possibly could, and you wanted him to do the same to you. Your newfound love made you a lot more bolder, too.

"Do you want to stay the night at my place?" You blurted out one night after a particularly successful dinner date, feeling a lot more confident in yourself than you usually did. Maybe the small glass of wine you had earlier also helped you along.

"Oh?" Is all he could respond with, mesmerizing emerald green eyes widening a tiny bit in shock that he quickly tried to hide behind a more casual look. Despite his attempted change in expression, you had caught on quick to the sudden apprehension that overtook him, as well as the way he tried to keep his calm. For a split second, you thought you had fucked up and made him uncomfortable. Then he smiled, a light blush covering his cheeks.

A smile. That's a good sign. God, I hope it's a good sign.

"Are you sure?—" He questioned, quickly cutting himself off and averting his gaze as he seemed to regret what he just said. "That was—I'm– I didn't mean to be rude—" He stammered out, stumbling over his words. "Im not good at these things, I'm sorry." He apologized with a nervous laugh, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

"I'm not good at them, either," You reassured, smiling sheepishly as it was your turn to blush. "We don't have to do anything if you don't want to." You looked away, trying to suppress your growing anxiety.

Fuckfuckfuck, what If I tried to move too fast and—

"I want to." He said, trying to act casual, excitement given away only by the way he grinned at you, blush on his face now worsened in the best way possible. "Lead the way."

You were lucky your apartment was only a short walk away from the restaurant, or else you may have died on the walk home from the eager, nervous racing of your heart. There was a first for everything in life, and you were tired of waiting for this first to come to you on its own. You were determined to make it happen; no backing out when you wanted it so much, especially with him.

Everything moved quickly once you had unlocked your door and closed it behind you, leaving only the two of you. You took full advantage of your sudden burst of confidence, even if it was steadily decreasing as you entered further into new territory. You kissed him with passion which he eagerly reciprocated, the kiss only deepening as you led him further into your apartment and into your bedroom.

It was when your back was to the bed and your shirt was thrown somewhere to the ground along with his own that you hesitated. It was new, and it was as scary as it was amazing. You broke the kiss, holding his face gently in your hands as you both paused, looking into each other's eyes with a shared apprehension and desire for the other.

"I've never done this before," You told him with a soft smile. "Be gentle, but not too gentle." He took a deep breath upon hearing the information that he'd be your first. You'd be his, something he craved since the day he met you, but it was also something he didn't believe he deserved. You thought he was perfect? He thought you were an angel, the only light in the whole of Gotham, and the whole of his life. To him, he was beyond repulsive. Some type of vermin born from the depths of Gotham's filth.

You saw the way he sunk into his thoughts, and you were fast to pull him out of them before he fell in too deep. "Hey," You mumbled, voice gentle, pulling him in closer. "What's wrong? We can stop if you don't want to go—" The pressing of his lips to yours cut you off.

"I don't deserve you," He smiled down at you, almost sadly. "Are you sure you want me to be your first? I'm...." He trailed off, looking for the right words. "I'm inexperienced, too." He carefully pushed a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "You deserve to be given the best, I don't want to ruin such an important moment for you."

You kissed him lovingly in reply. "You won't ruin it," You comforted. "I want you more than anything or anyone else, even if we're both a bit clumsy or awkward." Your once reassuring smile then turned into a more seductive look as you helped move his slightly shaky hands to the clasp of your bra, helping him undo it and letting the garment slip off. "Don't be afraid, Eddie. You can touch as much as you want, honey."

'Honey.' That single word made his heart warm. He'd do anything to hear you say that again. Anything to hear that makes him feel just as loved and just as wanted. You were an angel. His angel.

He reached out a hand, touching your breast experimentally, enjoying your light moan as his thumb brushed over your nipple. You were soft and warm he realized at that moment, and the closeness of you both felt like bliss. He wanted to be even closer, and you felt the same.

You tugged off each other's pants, the clothing joining the growing pile on the floor of your bedroom. It was just two pairs of thin fabric separating the two of you now, and you were equally as ready to close the gap.

You were the first to make the move, pulling his boxers down and letting his hardened cock spring out. It wasn't overly large by any means, but it was certainly above average. It almost intimidated you, but fuck did you want it inside of you. You were growing wetter by the second.

You looked up at him for permission, which he granted, before wrapping your hand around the base of his cock and slowly stroking it, being as experimental with your touches as he was with his. He groaned, head leaning back and his eyes screwing shut as you continued your movements, steadily increasing your pace.

"Does that feel good, Eddie?" You purred into his ear, taking pleasure in the myriad of noises slipping from his mouth. He let out a whiny 'Mhmm' in response, head beginning to cloud with ecstasy. He was a smart man, smarter than anyone else you knew, but you were turning him ditsy with your touch.

"S-Stop—" He stuttered out, bringing you to a halt. "D-Dont wanna cum yet–" He said hurriedly, watching your hand leave him. He took a small moment to reign himself back in, bringing himself further away from the edge. Once he was calm enough, he began to pull down your panties, soaked from your arousal. It ignited a sort of pride in him to see just how much of an effect he had on your body.

You helped him line up with your waiting entrance. It was now or never. He buried his head into the crook of your neck, a long moan muffled against you as he finally sunk into your pussy. You gasped at the feeling, the stretch unusual but causing pleasure to shoot through you.

"Fuck!" You cursed, nails instinctively digging into his back in an attempt to ground yourself. "How are you so big?" You moaned out, whimpering in pleasure as you felt him begin to move slowly. "E-Eddie—"

"Does it feel good for you, too?" He asked in a voice shaky from pleasure, hips slowly rocking against yours. "A-Am I doing this right?"

You pulled him into a kiss, moaning into it along with him as you pulled him in close, bodies melding into each other in a yearning for as much intimacy as possible. It was just the two of you in this moment, and neither of you ever wanted it to end. It wasn't just sex, it never was, you were showing each other just how much love was felt between you, even if it was still relatively new.

"You're so tight," He whimpered, body shaking as he struggled to not become entirely overwhelmed by the experience. "Feel so good. I love you. Love you so much." He began to speed up, a mixture of desperate noises leaving him as he tried to get more and more of you. "C-Close— 'm gonna cum soon–"

His finish was speeding towards him faster with each thrust into you, and you weren't far behind. Still, you weren't as close as he was. You needed just a little bit more to push you over that edge you needed so badly to cross. You found one of his hands, bringing it to your clit. "Slowly," You instructed, letting him rub at the sensitive bud. "Just like that, Eddie." You praised, back arching as a new layer of sensation was added to the experience.

It took less than a minute before he came with a whine of your name, the feeling of his thick cum spilling deep into your pussy triggering your own orgasm. The feeling coursed through your body, consuming you in never had before. He continued to move against you until both of your climaxes subsided, leaving you both pleasantly exhausted as you came down from your highs.

He pulled out, snuggling up beside you as you sat in a comfortable silence. Your eyes fluttered shut as you smiled to yourself. You had finally done it, and it was even more rewarding than you expected it to be. You were satisfied and in love, and nothing felt better.

"Don't fall asleep on me," Edward mumbled softly, a small smile on his face as he pressed a light kiss to your shoulder. "I want to cuddle a bit longer." You leaned into him, face nuzzling into his chest.

You wouldn't trade this moment for the world.

[geraldmariaivo]

Not sure if this is a thing already, but…what if Danny gets unofficially adopted by Batman, and he’s ok with that? 

It’d probably be post reveal-gone-wrong or something, but i could also see it just being Jack and Maddie taking the family on trip to Gotham for the summer. Tbh my favorite version of this is within the first full year of him being Phantom, so he’s still getting new powers and stuff every now and then, and hasn’t really gotten all this vigilante stuff down to a science yet. Either way, Danny is trying to stay under the bats’ radar, (and also avoid his friends’ jokes about being adopted by Bruce Wayne becoming reality) but, well..

Danny “what even is my luck” Fenton can’t seem to keep out of the weird shit that happens in Gotham, and doesn’t realize that slipping out of the rogue’s traps isn’t something normal enough to be unnoticed by the bats. Maybe it’s the aftermath of a Scarecrow fight, and Danny stayed intangible for as long as he could, probably occasionally dropping it every now and then because he’s not really thinking, and it takes effort to be intangible like that. Either way, Batman eventually comes upon him while distributing the antivenom or whatever for the fear gas, and comes across this meta child who’s kinda aware, but seems to keep density shifting and makes it impossible to give the cure to, in the way that someone who’s afraid of needles might squirm when they’re getting a shot. 

So he just sort of sits there and holds out his arm, and eventually the kid catches on. He grabs on and grips as hard as he can. Batman, slowly, broadcasting his movements, takes his other hand, and puts it to his own chest. He breathes in, holds, and breathes out. In, hold, out. It only takes the kid a minute or two of the kid copying his breathing to calm down enough to thank him, likely due to a boosted metabolism or some other mechanism for his body to deal with toxins. It took another second for the kid to visibly realize that Batman saw him go intangible, and quickly rush out “please don’t tell anyone Mr. Batman”s and “I know there’s a no-meta rule in Gotham, but I’m not staying here full-time.”

Batman just silently nods.

Much to both of their dismay, this keeps happening.  Poison Ivy attacks? Danny is there, getting people unstuck from vines or sap or whatever she used to trap them because he can’t not help when he’s right there.  Mad Hatter is mind-controlling people? Overshadow him into disabling it, or just fuck with the electronics invisibly.

Riddler is on the attack? Just wiggle in your ropes while his henchmen are setting things up, so as to make it look like you’re really skilled at escaping instead of becoming intangible. Might as well “untie” your fellow hostages, knock out a few henchmen while you’re at it.

These things keep happening, and Danny is actually feeling refreshed. He’s not doing most of the work here, the bats are. He’s just helping out on the side, is all. He’s not waking up at night to fight someone all the time, the bats already have nightshift covered to hell and back. And while constantly coming across Batman isn’t exactly ideal, the man hasn’t tried to drive him out of the city, which is probably as close to a “you can stay” as he’ll ever get, considering that the man hasn’t said so much as a word to him.

Danny’s also pretty sure that the man wouldn’t give him food every time they encounter each other if he wasn’t ok with him. And holy shit, isn’t that something? Edible food that isn’t fudge from an adult with no obligation to him.

Meanwhile, on Bruce’s side, this random meta kid just keeps on showing up at nearly every other rogue attack. Sure it’s been a slow week, but this is ridiculous. He also needs to restock on nutrient bars. They’re don’t taste the best, but between Red Robin forgetting to eat before he hits the rooftops, and the rampant child hunger in many of the poorer areas (he needs to look into his funds for school breakfast and lunch programs again, see if there’s some more wiggle room he can work with), he keeps several on him, just in case.

And if the speed the meta kid seemed to process Crane’s fear gas was any indication, he probably wasn’t eating enough for his boosted metabolism. So he kept a few more on him.

One time, he came in a bit too late, and caught the tail end of the kid bashing Condiment King in the face, -no powers, just a metal folding chair- while griping about how the man had ruined his lunch, and how now he had to eat at home and he was tired and didn’t want to fight his lunch today, because he’s had to do it for the last two days. And then (sloppily) kicking him in the ribs. Of course he had to come in to end the fight, but more than he was concerned about Condiment King, he was worried about the kid. Fighting took energy that the kid was having a hard time replacing as it was, and what’s worse is that the kid’s parents seem to make him hunt his own food. And there aren’t many animals in Gotham other than stray cats, raccoons, and rats. Danny, naturally, is surprised when, instead of being scolded for fighting a rogue on his turf, Batman gives him a handful of those not-granola bars, and two hundred dollars cash. He also wasn’t expecting Batman’s first words to him to be “Go to the corner of Pacific Circle and Evergreen boulevard, they have more nutrient bars for metas there,” but he’ll take what he can get.

And the pat on the head was nice. It was soft, and he saw it coming, and it didn’t knock the wind out of his lungs like his dad’s hugs and back-slaps did. It was nice, and no, Jazz, he was not forming a parasocial relationship with Batman of all people. He was just someone who gave him food and cash, that’s it. It still felt really nice for someone to care about what he needed to eat, though.

He does go to the specified store and get a bunch of different nutrient bars, and makes sure to store them where they won’t come to life. It helps more than he thought it would.

As is her duty, Babs teases the hell out of Bruce for being soft on this one random black-haired, blue-eyed meta kid. You gave him a head pat. A head pat, Bruce. Try not to break out the bat-adoption papers. 

[nasturtiumloom]

Hi!!! new riddler writer omg!!

could you do AK!riddler w a f!assistant!reader who dresses nice? like he’s covered in grime and grease 24/7 but his assistant walks in all dressed up, long ahh nails, smelling great yknow? def not what you would wear when you’re making robots.

thank you!!

hello hello hello!!! ♡⸜(˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)⸝♡

i decided to do mini headcanons for this, i hope that’s okay!! requests are still open for a fic of this. ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა (but i’m still new so it might take a little while just like this one did, sorry! </3)i did go a little bit overboard with this one though..

MDNI

AK!riddler x fem assistant reader ⊹ ˚｡⋆🍋‍🟩° ᡣ𐭩₊ ⊹

After a small argument, Edward Nigma decided to make you his assistant while he worked on his robots and traps for Batman. He found it utterly ludicrous that you refused to get your hands dirty, insisting that you didn't want to ruin your nails or your suit.

"You expect me to believe you can't handle a little grease?" he scoffed, narrowing his eyes as he wiped oil from his hands onto an already stained rag.

You crossed your arms, maintaining your composure. "Edward, you know perfectly well that I have no intention of ruining my manicure or this designer suit. Besides, my skills are far more useful in other areas."

He rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath. "Fine. If you're so keen on staying pristine, you can assist me in other ways. Fetch the blueprints, organize the tools, and keep track of the parts I need. Happy now?"

A small, satisfied smile played on your lips. "Much better.”

as the heavy metal door to Edward’s lair creaked open. The rhythmic clacking of heels echoed through the dimly lit room, a sharp contrast to the usual silence. Edward glanced up from his workstation, a sneer already forming on his lips as he wiped a smudge of grease from his brow with the back of his hand.

“Good morning, Edward,” you said, walking over to him, placing a stack of papers on the cluttered desk. “I’ve compiled the latest data on Batman’s movements, as you requested.”

Edward’s eyes followed you, the sneer on his face barely concealing the intrigue in his eyes. “Oh good, only five minutes late this time.” he replied, annoyment lacing his words. “I’m sure your fancy clothes and perfect nails didn’t get in the way of your work, did they?”

You gave him a small smile, knowing the effect you had on him. It was a game you both played, the tension between you palpable yet unspoken. “Thank you, Edward. I take pride in my work.” earning another eye roll from him.

Despite being the complete opposite in appearance, this stark contrast is precisely what attracts Edward to you, not that he’d ever say that to you. Your neat, put-together self complements the dark, greasy, and oil-scented environment of his workshop, creating a dynamic that he finds both fascinating and alluring. Edward thrives in chaos, with his mind always racing with complex plans and intricate puzzles. However, your calm and orderly presence offers him a sense of balance, his eyes flickering up once in a while to see you write down any idea he would work on after another and another.

Edward always insists that you can never perfect his coffee, even though he requests it black. No matter how many times you bring him a steaming cup, he always takes a sip, frowns slightly, and mutters some critique about how it's too sweet, too weak, or not quite hot enough. Though he constantly nitpicks, he always finishes the cup and asks for more. He knows that without you, he'd probably forget to drink anything at all.

"Did you add sugar in this one? practically rotting my teeth," he grumbles, taking another sip.

You roll your eyes, replying, "It's exactly the same as yesterday."

He checks his watch before saying, "Bring me another coffee in an hour. And try not to do it blindfolded," with a hint of teasing in his voice.

the only reason he says he keeps you around is because you manage to keep his blueprints to a standard, picking at his messy notes into clean blueprints, sometimes it gets to him.

"You think I couldn't manage without you, don't you?" His voice held a mix of annoyance and grudging respect as he paced the cluttered workshop. The air smelled of grease and metal, a sharp contrast to your usual neat appearance.

You smiled slightly, adjusting the blueprint on the table. “Someone has to keep you from turning everything into a death trap. Someone who knows how to clean up nicely, maybe?" signaling to the huge huge rolling saw blades Catwoman had to dodge or the race that Batman had to maneuver through a course while avoiding being crushed by large metal blocks.

He scoffed, pretending to inspect a gadget nearby, “Presentable, yes. You manage that quite well, among other things." As he returned to his work, you felt a quiet satisfaction.

He’d probably steal the credit when he sees Batman struggling with a certain riddle that you came up with, but when Batman finally solves it, it sparks a heated argument between you two, each blaming the other for potential mistakes.

Edward couldn't resist a smirk of satisfaction as he watched Batman puzzle over a riddle you had crafted. "Clearly, my intellect prevails once again," he remarked smugly, leaning back in his chair.

You shot him a pointed look, hands on your hips. "Edward, that was my idea and you know it. I spent hours perfecting that riddle."

"Details, my dear assistant," he retorted, waving a dismissive hand. "The credit rightfully belongs to the one who set the puzzle."

"But you wouldn't even have had the components if it weren't for me," you argued, frustration creeping into your voice.

but you guys quickly quiet down as you see batman pick up the riddler trophy through the computer screen, seeing edward’s hand grip his chair incredibly tight.

Edward might never admit it aloud, but the thought of your absence unsettled him. You had become the unexpected variable in his life that brought structure and, oddly enough, a sense of stability. In the grand scheme of his schemes and riddles, you were the constant that made everything else fall into place

Edward even found himself relying on you more than he ever anticipated. Your organized approach and sharp mind allowed him to focus solely on his grand designs, he was sure you wouldn’t disappoint that much with the finer details.

He would probably complain about smelling your lotion on the blueprints or papers you handed to him. Despite his grumbles, the subtle fragrance secretly provided him with an unexpected comfort amidst the chaos of his work. Even after you finished your tasks and he sent you away, your perfumes and lotion would still linger around his workshop, a ghostly reminder of your presence.

“Do you have to drench yourself in that stuff?” he’d mutter, nose wrinkling as he examined the schematics. “It’s distracting.”

You’d raise an eyebrow, hiding a smirk. “Distracting how, Eddie?”

His eyes would flicker to you, a fleeting vulnerability passing through them before he turned back to the blueprints. “It... interferes with my concentration. The smell is... too pleasant.”

You’d chuckle softly, leaning in closer. “Would you prefer I stop wearing it?”

A brief silence would follow, filled only by the hum of machinery. He’d sigh, his voice barely above a whisper. “No, just... be mindful.”

You’d nod, the hint of a smile on your lips. “Of course, Eddie.”

Later, when the workshop was quiet and the only sounds were the ticking of clocks and the hum of electronics, he’d find himself inhaling deeply, the faint scent of your lotion still lingering. Despite himself, he’d feel a strange sense of calm, a reminder that amidst his intricate plans and puzzles, there was something, someone, grounding him.

i feel like if you’d gifted him maybe a coconut lime sanitizer so his hands wouldn’t reek of metal and oil, he would claim to never use it that it’d be a waste of space and time, but as you cleaned up his messy desk the sanitizer would be half empty.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” he asked, holding the small bottle between his fingers as if it were a foreign object. “Sanitizer? Really?”

“It’s practical, Eddie,” you replied, unfazed. “And it smells nice.”

He rolled his eyes. “I doubt I’ll ever use it.”

Weeks later, as you tidied up his messy desk, you noticed the sanitizer was half empty. You couldn't help but smile.

“You said you wouldn’t use it,” you teased, holding up the bottle.

He glanced at it, his expression unchanging. “I had to test its effectiveness. Purely for scientific purposes.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Sure, Eddie.”

In the quiet moments, when he was deep in thought, he’d find himself reaching for the bottle, the familiar scent providing a strange comfort. Despite his stubbornness, the small gift had found its place in his routine.

He’d probably complain about hearing your nails tapping against your desk, your heels clicking with every step, or your gum chewing distracting him. Yet, if you weren’t there, he’d be equally distracted by the silence. Your presence, irritating as he found it at times, had become a part of his rhythm. The soft rustle of your clothes as you moved, the faint scent of your perfume lingering in the air.

Without you, the oppressive quiet would remind him of how much he relied on your seemingly annoying habits to keep his own mind from unraveling.

If you ever caught him looking at you, he’d probably be the one to get mad.

"Why are you dressed up like that in a place like this? It’s not a fashion show," he’d snap, eyes narrowing. But the truth was, he noticed. He noticed the effort you put into your appearance, even if he pretended it annoyed him.

Over the times you both spent together, you’d notice the little things. He no longer grumbled as much after you spoke, his eyebrows weren't always scrunched up in frustration. Sometimes, he might even let you go home early,

"Fine, you can leave," he'd mutter, barely looking up from his work.

and if you were really lucky, he might just comment on your good work. These small gestures were his way of acknowledging your presence, your importance, even if he’d never admit it outright.

"Not bad," he'd say gruffly, a rare hint of approval in his voice.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

currently six in the morning and my brain is mush!!! goodnight everyone _(- _ｰ 」∠)_ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 or good morning !

[penofsteele]

Riddler Glasses Headcanons!

So I have been just nonstop thinking about Eddie and his glasses. As someone who wears glasses and either forgets to put them on or decides to just forego seeing for a while, it's really fun to picture Eddie in scenarios where he does vs doesn't have them on.

My first big thought is that reformed!Eddie would totally get a cool green high-tech mask from Bruce with his prescription in the lenses. (This goes along with my AU where Eddie continues to be "The Riddler" but he's working for Batman to kinda undermine Gotham's criminal underworld. I can make a post on that some other time.)

Secondly, I love the idea that Eddie wears that stupid green mask and just CANNOT see. Like anytime he's committing crimes he is going by shapes and shapes alone. When things come close he's like "cool I know what this is" but otherwise he cannot see. Hence, he relies on his goons to do a lot of the dirty work during heists and he prefers to take the spotlight and put on a show.

Thirdly and softly, I like the idea that Arkham does have glasses for when Eddie gets recaptured because Batman often brings him in with his glasses broken or missing, and he usually needs a new pair. (He will get SUPER irritable when he doesn't get them and the guards do not want to deal with an irritable Riddler.) Bonus points if Bruce is the one ordering them to make sure Eddie can see properly.

And finally my Riddlebat brain is insatiable, but I think it's funny if Eddie loses his glasses in the middle of a scheme or a fight and Batman just stops in his tracks and is like "here hold on" and gives them back so at least Eddie can see him coming.

Bonus: Unburied!Eddie losing his glasses and ending up at Wayne manor. Bruce has a pair that he keeps just in case bc Eddie shows up there a lot when he gets a bit roughed up after an escape. He gives them to Ed and Ed is like "why do you have glasses that are my exact prescription" and Bruce is like "you and Alfred have the same one?" and Alfred is just rolling his eyes in the bg.

Okay, that's all!

[finniestoncrane]

Respect Your Elders

Telltale!Riddler x Female!Reader, word count: 2.3k commission: edward being teased by a younger reader for being an old man, but it's fine because this old man fucks severely 💚 commission me here! request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: degradation, rough sex, forceful

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing there?”

Edward was sitting at his desk with the new computer you had installed. His back tensed up at your words, and you could tell without seeing that his face was contorted into one of absolute irritation and rage. And you were glad of it. Nothing pleased you more than riling him up. It was often the only fun you got to have. Unsurprising to anyone who you told, being the Riddler’s assistant didn’t actually lead to a lot of excitement or jolly good times. It was tough, rigorous, never-ending work. But you could suffer through it, if it meant spending time with Edward. As much as you teased him, you knew it was all down to your little crush. Like a child on the playground. Your playful bullying was an outlet for your true feelings, which you could never reveal to him. You needed to keep the upper-hand in this relationship. You knew it would be entirely too dangerous to let him know he had any kind of advantage on you, or at least more than the ones he already assumed he had.

“You know…”

Edward spoke through gritted teeth and raised his head, not turning to face you yet.

“… age is but a number, my dear. I think I can handle a computer, I’m intellectually more advanced than anyone, especially you.”

“Mhm… you know you’ve been clicking the wrong thing for five minutes now?”

“I… I’m not…”

With an irritated grumble, he shoved the mouse to the side and pushed the keyboard away. Turning in the chair, he got up and pushed past you out of the room.

“I can’t get anything done with you standing around here bothering me!”

Though it was clear he was leaving in an attempt to get away from you, you followed him anyway.

“Age is just a number, yes… but there’s plenty of things that being older hardly lends itself to, and you would know better than most. I mean you’re what? 65? 70?”

“I’m 60! As well you know! And besides, normal rules don’t apply to me.”

“Sure they do, Edward. You’re not a super-human. You’re just a little old man in his cute little green hoodie. Hell, you even use a cane!”

“Keep this up and I’ll be using it on you.”

You giggled as you skipped after him. It was so easy. He was almost too easy in fact. And maybe you should have felt bad about it, about getting him so exasperated and irritated. But you needed the release. It was frustrating to be cooped up with him berating you and being miserable all the time. You were owed the pleasure of bothering him.

“Mhm… grumpy old man. Keep it up, Edward. You’re hardly deflecting the stereotypes.”

“What other stereotypes do I fit into then?”

He stopped at the work bench that held his latest gadget in progress, standing to work on it as you continued your tirade of childish mockery.

“Hm… well, you’ve got that greying hair.”

“Exactly. Greying. Not quite fully grey yet, I’ll have you know.”

“Yeah. Wrinkles?”

“So few!”

“You’ve started forgetting things, getting slow in your old age.”

“I think that’s more because you’re constantly distracting me and throwing me off.”

“Oh sure, blame me!”

He was silent as you considered saying the one thing that had been playing on your mind since the beginning of the argument.

“I bet you’re getting a bit slow other places too… not quite the stamina you used to have…”

“I’m as agile as I ever was.”

“In what areas… because I’m thinking of one particular. Requires a bit more than agility… requires an ability to sustain something else…”

Edward turned to you with a questioning gaze.

“Do you mean…?”

“I mean sex, grampa.”

You winked with a mischievous smile as you said it, noticing his cheeks reddening slightly at the mention. But he turned away from you again, hiding any embarrassment he might have felt.

“Yes, well. You wouldn’t know anything about that anyway.”

“I guess I could find out, if I pester you long enough.”

“Don’t be so ridiculous. Besides, you’re aware of my comings and goings. It’s been quite some time since I’ve been with anyone, the results of any experimentation would be skewed by lack of sufficient data.”

“Is that because you literally can’t anymore?”

“I’m pretty sure I could get by, just the same as any other virile man.”

“Oh yeah, sure! And would you still need your cane while you were going at it? Or would you risk breaking a hip?”

“Very funny.”

“And when, just out of curiosity, was the last time you even had an erection?”

“I’m not going to dignify that with an answer.”

“Because you can’t remember? Is that because it was so long ago or because your memory is terrible now that you’re ancient?”

“I’m not going to tell you again to drop this.”

“Aw, did I hit a nerve? Is it difficult to talk about? I bet it is. I bet you can’t even get it up anymore.”

You turned from him, laughing, walking towards the other work bench, cleared apart from some papers and files.

“Such a shame, I wonder if you would have been any good, when you were young enough to actually make a dent in someone.”

As you craned your head to see if he was still listening, to gauge the effect your taunting was having on him, you were met with the sudden shock of his hand, palm against your neck, grip tight, as he lowered you down onto the workbench, swiping the papers to the floor before he forced you down onto it.

“Care to find out?”

“Really? You gonna give it to me good, old man?”

“Oh no. You don’t deserve anything good. You’re a very, very bad girl. And you’ll be treated as such for the duration. Now. Don’t mess around anymore. Take off your panties and pull your skirt up.”

“Yeah? You gonna make me?”

He tightened the grip, pinning you to the desk as you gasped and smiled, unable to hold back the excitement at feeling his body against yours.

“Respect your elders, my dear. Do as you are told.”

You still felt excited, tantalised by the demanding nature he had taken on. But there was an element of fear behind it. Something about the way he stared into you, eyes penetrating your soul, teeth gritted and brows furrowed into a scowl. There was nothing but cruelty in his face. So you did as you were told, sliding your panties down your thighs. He snatched them from you, holding them up and examining them.

“Quite flirtatious, aren’t they. Were you expecting something? Or are you just a run of the mill whore?”

You didn’t have an answer from him, so you remained silent.

“And damp! Already!”

Bringing them to his face he inhaled, taking in the scent of your arousal, before he tossed them aside.

“Well… next step, come on. Do not make me wait.”

Lifting your skirt up slowly, you revealed yourself to him as his mouth curled into a sly smile.

“Wonderful, you can actually do as you’re instructed. I truly thought you might be too pitifully stupid for that. Let’s see if you can keep up the good work. Turn around, and bend over.”

“Ok, Edward. You can stop joking now. You’ve had your fun, you got a good look at me. You can drop the dirty old man act.”

He stepped forward quickly, far quicker than you had seen him move before. With his hands gripping your arms he turned you around, slamming you down onto the surface and pinning you there under his weight, his strength surprising.

“Oh, I’ve not even begun to have my fill of you yet.”

“Edward, wait! P-please!”

“Too late for mercy and apologies now, dear. Perhaps, if you had extended that same gratitude to me, you wouldn’t be in this particular position right now. But, your punishment must suit the crime. So I am going to fuck you until you can see how effortlessly I can make you scream. I haven’t lost that touch yet.”

“I was joking, Edward!”

“I’m not.”

As you closed your eyes tight, trying to struggle out from under his body, you could hear him shuffling, not realising that he had undone his belt and pants until you felt the heat of his flushed cock pressing against your pussy.

“W-wait, I’m not- I’m a-”

Your words were cut short by your scream as he thrust himself into you with little care. Rough, painful, completely filling you with his impressive length and thickness. And the sound of your pain only seemed to further excite him as he began a brutal pace, slapping into you, pounding your body into the surface you were trapped against.

His soft grunting echoed around you as he exerted his entire energy in an effort to have you whimpering under him. The size, the pressure, the way his fingers dug into your skin, nails leaving tiny half-crescents as they indented and left marks. The stinging sensation made your eyes water as you gasped, trying to catch your breath, fighting for some respite between the punishing blows to your rear as he slammed himself hard into you.

“Edward… you’re being… too rough…”

He snarled, laughing deep and low as he continued his vicious movements.

“That’s the… ah… whole point, dear… you… hng… didn’t expect anything like this… ah… from an old man, did you?”

“I’m sorry… please… I take it back… just… just be gentle!”

“I’m sorry too… hah… you’d hardly learn… mph… your lesson if I… ah… stopped now…”

You clung to the edge of the surface, knuckles white as you tried to focus on something other than the embarrassment, the way you were being so humiliated under Edward’s irritatingly delicious fucking. He really did have control over you. Strength, power, and an impressive dick. And the talent to make you a quivering mess below him, unable to stop yourself from getting wetter and hotter as the looming threat of orgasm came closer and closer to you.

“You’re a silly little slut… do you know that?”

In a stupefied daze you nodded, acknowledging his degradation, almost willing for more to be dished out to you. You wanted to be punished, you wanted to be his slut, his whore. You would be anything he wanted right now.

“The youth of today… ah… they don’t know how… to respect… their elders…”

The skin of your ass cheek suddenly flashed hot as you heard the crack of his palm striking it.

“Back in my day… you would have learned to be respectful… to shut up… especially women… like you… keep your mouth closed… unless it’s to accept my cock…”

He punctuated the words with more spanking, and you could feel the area almost numbed from the stinging, silently hoping that he might have left a mark that could admire later. At the thought of it, you could feel your legs growing weak under you, trembling as you prepared for the inevitable, an orgasm, cumming over Edward’s dick as it slid in and out of you. Giving him what he had taken from you in his act of aggression.

“Already… heh… that close to finishing?”

You bit your lip in response as you tried to hold back the moans of pleasure.

“And you… wanted to mock me about… stamina?”

He laughed as he smacked at your ass and thighs, his own pace quickening.

“You’d think you… hadn’t done… this before…”

With your cheek pressed onto the table, eyes watering, tears streaming down your cheeks, you managed to catch his eye. As he realised that you hadn’t done this before, his mouth contorted into a smug grin.

“Are you kidding me? You talk a very big game, dear. You had the nerve. The audacity. To mock me.”

Every sentence ended with him slamming his body into you, burying his cock deeper and deeper, straining you, stretching you to your limit.

“And you’re nothing but an inexperienced little virgin.”

You could feel your cheeks redden, deeply regretting your cruel taunting, desperate to take it back. But then, had you never said anything, you wouldn’t be receiving the greatest punishment, and pain, you ever had to endure.

“Say it. Say you’re a virgin.”

“I’m a virgin.”

“And tell me you want me to fuck you hard, to ruin you, before anyone else has even had a chance.”

“I… Eddie, please…”

“Tell me that you’re mine now.”

“I’m yours.”

“And that you want me to fuck you.”

“I want you to fuck me.”

He laughed, grin spread ear to ear as he felt you clench around him, willing him to keep going, to fill your tight cunt. With his fingers digging deeper into your skin, he held you onto him, keeping you still as he enjoyed the feeling. He’d never been anyone’s first before. It was an experience he wanted to savour. His lips were wet with his owl drool as he salivated, making a mental note of how good you felt around him, committing the sensations to memory for the next time he had to take care of himself. The way your body accommodated him, the way it made room for his ample length. Like you were trying your hardest to be a very good girl, to take everything he was giving you.

“I want it, Eddie, please.”

The desire to please you was usurped by his strong need to see his punishment through.

“Oh… well in that case.”

He pulled himself out of you.

“We’ll prolong the experience. Get down on your knees. I’ll decide when little miss gets to have her orgasm.”

[willialwaysbehere4]

I decided id stay up & draw the prototype design for my batman forever self insert that ive been cooking up for maybe a week or 2 now. The colors are probably a,little off it's ok (edit like 3 days later i fixed them). Ramblings under the cut mostly cus its 4am and i dont wanna forget my ideas

I went w ocd for her ? bad phrasing. She has ocd (basically the same as mine or at least with the same subtypes& compulsions) and since batman forever revolves around psych stuff and theres already did (twoface and also bruce Im pretty sure??) schizophrenia(?) (chase? i think) + bpd (Edward.) i figured it'd work w/o getting too muddied w everything else or looking like i just slapped a label on her

I did name my batman oc caterwaul (well. "kate"erwaul) ok i couldn't think of anything else but i wanted the c.e. initials for samesies also I don't think cain eulogy straight up wouldve worked and i know there's literally an E Nygma but idk. A little too outlandish.

Ftr i headcanon edward to be bi (with a preference for men but he isn't all that picky in regards to gender) but im kinda making that a "teehee guys look at my selfship cope" thing here. They probably maybe could've gotten together and lived happy ever after and no riddler and blahblah but cait just never bothered by assumption RIP i'm not sure her feelings would be reciprocated anyawy just in general

Some traits i'd give her..i don't really know shes kinda just me but with better socialization. She's pretty friendly overall and probably enjoys going to the company parties and chatting it up w her other coworkers but she also likes to keep to herself at times. she's probably a very private person all things considered. Something like a "you've been friends with this person for years but you don't know a thing about them" sorta deal

Also speaking of that i think she would've been employed maybe about a month or two after edward but the time schematics get a little wonky there since actual websites weren't even a thing until 94 and he'd been working there for 2yrs by then so i don't know what she wouldve been working as.. probably just got her job shifted around but stayed in the same department>?

If she were in the movie i think she'd just be a supporting character that appears for like 5 minutes after the whole "you were supposed to understand" scene. probably comforting edward or something. Not the scene directly after that where he's fake crying but like a bonus one scrunched between it where they're having a heartfelt moment Or something. You'd only see her the one time though and itd be an uncredited role

[distort-opia]

(1/2) So I read thru your Negativity tag, and if you have the spoons for it (no judgment if you don't): I think part of why so many Joker antis shit on Bruce's no-kill code is because he routinely forgets/loosens it for non-Joker villains/characters in general. KGBeast is the most infamous example, but there's just. Zillions of no-name henchmen and serial killers he's pulled the "Don't have to save you" routine on.

Hey! There's definitely some truth to this argument-- Joker's plot armor is infamous for a reason. However, I think there's a bunch of other factors to take into account when talking about Bruce's no-killing rule and his his flexibility around it, when it comes to Joker specifically.

I wouldn't agree that Bruce routinely forgets his no-killing code, or that he's done it for so many criminals. While it has happened more than once and it is a pattern, it's still more of an exception rather than the rule; most of the time, you see Batman desperately trying to save people, no matter who they are. It's actually something most villains use against him. It's why they constantly take hostages or throw someone off the roof of a building and then run the other way, knowing that Batman would always choose to save someone rather than chase. For a character with nearly a century of history, it's unavoidable he'd have a number of instances he's skirted the line regarding his no-killing rule... but also, for the same reason, you've got to keep in mind how many more cases offset these exceptions. Not to even mention the inherent inconsistencies that arise, when you've got thousands of writers handling one character over so long. The "I don't have to save you" thing is characterization more accurate to the Bruce Wayne present in Nolan's trilogy, which is where the line comes from. Also, there's a distinction to be made between Bruce directly attempting murder and Bruce allowing someone's death to take place indirectly. The KGBeast example is indeed one of the most famous, but to be fair, it was retconned very soon after-- with Bruce feeling guilty about leaving the villain to die and calling the police [Batman (1940) #439]. I've actually got a couple of posts talking about Bruce's patterns and his no-killing rule here, and here (with the latter being Joker-oriented).

To sum up a bit though, in the last post I make the point that Bruce has nearly killed Joker with his own hands twice (first time he got stopped by Jason, second time by Jim, and to be honest if I take Zdarsky's run into account, a couple times more). He also allowed for the possibility of Joker's death like three times just off the top of my head (letting him crash with the helicopter in DitF, letting Jim shoot Joker in NML after Sarah Essen-Gordon's murder, walking away from Joker while he had a bomb strapped to him at the end of Joker War). And thing is, Bruce has also canonically nearly stabbed Riddler, pretty much pushed Penguin out of a moving car even though he'd just gotten his throat slashed, left Scarecrow to die a potentially very gory death, and I could keep going... But then why is Joker special? Why do people still feel like he's the one getting special treatment, and find it so annoying that Bruce keeps saving his life? That he just won't die?

Well, it's two things: frequency and meaning, and they go together. Batman and Joker are one of the most famous hero-villain pairings in modern comic books, and the conflict at the centre of their dynamic defines their characters to the extent that writers can't help but come back to it, again and again... for the drama, the emotional stakes. See, it's much more engaging and it carries more weight to write Batman into situations in which his nemesis, the one person who's ruined his life most, is dying or facing death-- because then, the no-killing rule and his inner conflict over it is that much deeper and poignant. It's still interesting to see Bruce struggle with his treatment of more generic criminals, or even some of the famous Rogues, but Joker is special because he exists to challenge the no-killing rule. Joker makes it his goal to get Batman to cross the line and kill him. Joker literally wants Batman to kill him! But if Batman kills him and crosses the one line that he feels makes him who he is, then there's no story to tell anymore. You've got a monster like The Batman Who Laughs or the Bruce Jason encountered in Countdown, and a dead Joker.

In the end, complaining that Joker is in so many life-or-death situations and that he never dies because (more often than not) Batman saves him, is like complaining that a knife cuts your stake too well. Joker, as a character, is doing what he's designed to do. I will readily admit that DC has overdone this to death, and that many times it isn't written well. Joker's plot armor has gotten ridiculous, mostly because DC will never retire such a popular character that's making them so much money. But at the end of the day, if you argue that Bruce's no-killing rule (Batman's core tenet) has no meaning because it's being used to create drama for money... you could argue the exact same thing about many other traits and DC characters, unfortunately. Just pick a story and follow the thread. For example, something similar could be said about the recent Gotham War arc; maybe DC went "Oh, Batman cares about his Family and he struggles with his darker side? Smash those two together and rake in the cash! Let's make them all fight each other! Sure, we did this a bajillion times already, but this time..."

Anyway. I'll stop rambling, but you get my drift. Unfortunately, as comic fans (and not only), we live in a reality in which most of the time, money is the very real Doylist motivator. But we can't only be Doylists, it's impossible (and way too bleak); we've got to be Watsonian too. Take the story as it is, and create meaning. Even when there might be little intended, or perhaps especially then-- through the transformative power of our own interpretations. Or at least, that's how I see it.

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 1/2/2024

it’s quite satisfying how the year started on a monday

listening

first song of the year: how could it be anything other than Sabata. this is the theme from the titular Sabata, i meant to pick the theme from Return of Sabata but im not mad about it.

-

reading

i read Tim Marchman’s Popping Tins newsletter (a newsletter about fish and seafood) less bc i enjoy locking Mack in the bathroom every time i want a tuna melt and more for the droll authorial voice. i have bought a tin of mackerel after reading some entries, and it was very good but much much richer than tuna.

What should I do with this can of krill meat?

after consulting the importer’s website:

This is accompanied by a photograph of the can featuring easily-discerned black eyes, which are nothing to be concerned about, according to the company that produces this can. The first question on its FAQ page is “What are the little black speckles in my can?” “No need to be concerned here!” the answer reads. “Your meat is not dirty, and you did not get a defected can. Our Antarctic Krill meat contains the most nutritious parts of the krill, which happen to include their eyes.

…

The risks here are clear: I could vomit when I open the can and see the nutritious black eyes staring at me; I could destroy the peace in my home by making it smell like sautéed and simmered krill; and/or I could ruin a perfectly delicious lunch by introducing nutritious eyes and hard bits of chitin.

i have no memory of how i found this newsletter.

i keep forgetting i have ten hoopla credits a month through my old library and i want to read more comics this year bc reading comics is fun. in the past in practice this means ive binged all ten credits over a weekend. this weekend i had time for exactly one.

The Riddler: Year One is an extremely direct tie-in to the movie and i think it’s neat they let the riddler’s actor paul dano go wild with his backstory and then turn it into a comic. it’s fun when actors get to do weird tie-in shit.

(non-sequential pages)

watching this forensic accountant’s brain crack and scramble like an egg as he struggles to really grasp the enormity of gotham corruption and why the city is such a dogshit miserable place to live in made me go “oh huh that was a pretty good writing decision in the movie”. not that the riddler was terribly stable to begin with but the despair and the unraveling were very effectively conveyed. this comic has a lot of fun with funky layouts (left) and an entire issue (right) is conspiracy board shit on top of accounting forms which is a neat artistic choice.

deeply depressing but an interesting new little window into the rpatz batman (god i hope we get more rpatz batman films) and fun to look at.

how i found this: trawling the popular comics page on hoopla

-

watching

this is the seventh year of starting a new-to-me classic black and white movie around 1030/11 PM New Year’s Eve and i am annoyed i didn’t like the movie that started this year but, according to the data, it’s been fifty-fifty so far.

previous years have featured: sunset boulevard, yojimbo, the thin man, it happened one night, bringing up baby, the big sleep, and now roman holiday (1953, dir. Wyler).

this is the platonic ideal of a classic movie. it’s not sterile but it’s so… unobjectionable. wholesome (derogatory) even. not particularly what i was looking for in a movie but, much like the gelato and champagne that pop up, it was kind of a sweet nothing. i don’t think anyone eats any real food this whole movie?

this is never a movie that feels rushed. it is two hours of watching beautiful people traipse around a beautiful city in beautiful edith head costumes. i would not say there is a lot of tension for the first hour and a half. however, imo, it does land its ending and for that i can forgive it a great deal. this is another beautiful movie that is simply not for me.

-

playing

have you ever wanted an open world rpg where you play as a shark? congrats, this was apparently free on epic a while back

Maneater has a tremendously fun prologue where you play as the soon-to-be-dead mother shark who is absolutely going to town on a crowded beach and destroying multiple spear-gun-wielding divers and multiple boats full of citizens exercising their second amendment rights. this prologue is an excellent choice by the game bc it locks the fun part (eating people) behind several hours of really grindy shit. i am not entertained by the grind of eating progressively larger muskellunge, avoiding alligators, and collecting license plates. the grind is EXCEPTIONALLY grindy, i put about three hours into it and have only gotten to level 5 (teen) and have only two mutations i can sink loot into (four types of loot gained from eating other fish. this is too many types imo). i am not anywhere near a recommended level to start fucking humans up. im also not super impressed with the open world aspects of it— there are not a lot of things to do, discover, or interact with in the first two areas.

this seems like a really fun game that clotheslined itself with a cripplingly slow upgrade cycle. im sure the mid and late game are hysterically fun, especially on stream. however i am not willing to put in the hours to get to the fun part when i could immediately be having fun in some other game.

-

making

a lot of profoundly uninteresting cleaning. after not being able to figure out why my office (where Phil [no longer in heat. for now] lives) still reeks of piss even after stealing a blacklight from a friend and cleaning with a blacklight, it is of course bc she has been pissing in secret places i didn’t think she could get to. upside down smile emoji. both the girls got their monthly flea goop yesterday and were deeply unhappy about it.

most of my plants died in the move and i am finally tackling the survivors. fan favorite giant snake plant (not pictured, tidied up and inside) did make it and pull through but is not happy about it. now that i have baby basil and baby dill sprouting in the kitchen i do need to do something with the balcony so they have somewhere to grow up study and strong.

also slammed that silly little blondeyes NFT thing up on the archive

[acapelladitty]

50 Random Character Asks:

(Edward Nygma obv)

1,3,7,13,19,29

and a bonus for any other character you feel like talking about:

50

1) Canon I outright reject

Baldy Riddler! A big sorry to all my sexy shiny-headed beloveds but I kinda hate it as a character design for him.

3) Obscure headcanon

I have a long-running headcanon that Edward is involved with real-estate and has a very well-hidden operation that is fronted by a woman whom he pays VERY well. It's a constant source of income and it allows him to keep a ton of potential hideouts in reach.

7) Age/height/weight headcanon

Early 40s. 6ft. He's thin but has a slight stockiness to him that fills him out by quite a bit.

13) Dumbest thing they’ve ever done

He literally cannot stop himself from running his mouth in Arkham at times and it's seen him recieve quite a few beatings that did not need to happen.

19) Vices/bad habits

Edward is constantly fighting a nicotine and caffeine addiction. He smokes on and off and he has a history of taking coke which has cooled off a little as he's gotten older.

29) Eating habits

He presents himself as being kinda refined and snobby in his pallete when he's with others but when he's tits deep in planning and mechanical parts then he'll eat whatever is convenient. He orders takeout a lot and tends to forget to eat for long periods of time and then binges what he needs.

50) A memory they’ve blocked out

I'll do this for Scarecrow! Jonathan Crane doesn't remember a lot of his childhood and that's absolutely a trauma response. He remembers soke specific events but more of his recollections are shrouded by pain, fear, and anger in such a way that at times he's thankful to be spared many of the details.

[soapskies]

Could I request some general yandere hcs for capullo/zero year riddler?

Im down bad for this man

Also just found your blog, and even tho it's new, your writings amazing!

YANDERE CAPULLO RIDDLER 🧩 ?¿

MALE READER. RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS. CONTAINS YANDERE TROPES AND SUGGESTIVE CONTENT.

— Thank you, anon! :D

One of the most difficult Riddler’s to put up with, even more so as a yandere, simply because he has absolutely no qualms about getting rid of anyone who gets in his way, especially if they are of no use to him.

That woman who gives you flirty looks at your job? Gone, off the face of the Earth, she may as well have never existed. That guy who brushed against your shoulder one time? Edward will run him through a meticulous puzzle trap, enjoying the way the blood leaves his face as he nears death, the pathetic brain-dead worm. He might even make you watch just so he can force you to play nice.

When he first grapples with his feelings, he’s beyond frustrated. He tried his hardest to forget about you. You’re just another average, brainless fool in a city full of them, and he’s the Riddler, for god’s sake!

But he can’t stop his thoughts from spiraling, can’t help envisioning you at his beck and call, subservient to him, being able to do whatever he wants with you…

Sooner or later he’ll kidnap you. It’s painful not being able to control a problem like this for him, you understand.

He convinces himself that it’s completely your fault that things had gotten to this point, like your a man sent by Satan himself to ruin his plans… not that he believes in such things.

He’s one of the sleaziest Riddler’s, and that definitely plays into the way he treats you

He sees you more like an object than a person, something he’s entitled to, and he makes damn sure to remind you of who owns your body and controls your autonomy.

He can never keep his hands off you, whether they’re gripping your waist, slung around your shoulders, caressing your chest or lingering on your thighs, all while he watches you squirm with a smirk.

I’d imagine his obsession with you is a love-hate sort of relationship. He views you as inferior, yet he wants you around him at all times, practically attached to the hip.

And my god does he love controlling every little aspect of your life, and keeping you tightly under his thumb. He’ll decide what you wear, what you eat, where you are, at all times…

It’s the only way he can scratch that insufferable itch in his brain, and deal with his obsession.

The only way he’d let you be around others is if he wanted to show you off, or embarrass you enough to bring your self-worth down.

He’ll humiliate you in front of others, hold you down, make you do unsavory things for him… all while enjoying himself.

If you dare act defiant, oh boy…

He’s not above keeping you on a leash, marking your skin up, branding you if you refuse to stay in your place

He wouldn’t severely injure you in any way, you’re already pathetic enough as you are… just enough on the skin so that it’s visible and permanent

Edward’s not particularly concerned about you “loving him back”, as long as you do what he says and behave. He accuses you of lusting after him, never admitting to it himself.

He’ll make sure there’s no chance in hell you’ll escape him, even if it means inserting tracking devices under your skin. Not that there are many chances to get away, given how you’re forced to be at his side practically every hour of every day. And who would even dare mess with the Riddler?

He’ll leave dark purple welts on your skin from where he bit down too hard, especially on your neck in the most visible of places, just so he can force you to wear shirts that show everybody who you belong to.

He’ll make you sit in his lap when he’s working or out in public, taking pride in how embarrassed you get

Maybe he’ll even tease the waistband of your boxers and threaten to take things further under the table if you don’t stop acting like a brat…

“What’s wrong? Afraid someone might notice how pathetic you’re acting? Why don’t you be a good boy and stay still for me…”

[bicycle4two]

fine as we are, but we want more || Jason Todd x Female!Reader || Chapter 1 of 8

Summary:

all things considered, you're pretty lucky.

in all your years living in gotham city, you've never been mugged, never had your apartment broken into, never been held as a hostage.

until now.

it seems your luck has run out and there's nothing you can do about it other than wait for someone to come rescue you. . . .

or, jason and you reunite after a long time.

Notes:

title's from "fools" by lauren aquilina

i haven't written fic in a good while and well, playing gotham knights made me want to write jason todd fic because i love him

this is mostly self indulgent, just scenes i wanted to write all crammed together. it's been a hot minute so i'm very rusty

hope you enjoy it though!

...

Read on AO3

...

Chapter 1:

You like to think that all things considered, you’re pretty lucky.

Living in Gotham is no walk in the park. You imagine that people don’t normally have to look over their shoulder as often as you do when you leave the comforts of your apartment. You think that maybe people outside of Gotham don’t play Bad Guy Bingo with their friends, checking to see if they’ve got the wining row of cliches and chaos on their way home.

One night, you found yourself texting BINGO to your group chat within thirty minutes of leaving the café, having witnessed a bunch of Freaks setting fire to the streets—obviously just because they can—while trying to break open an armored truck’s door. It didn’t take long before Nightwing somersaulted into the scene and quickly beat the group to the ground, quite literally, if you do say yourself.

It was the description of Nightwing’s spectacular entrance that caused your win. Your friends tend to forget the theatrics of the hero.

Anyway. For all the years you’ve been living in Gotham, walking its streets, and being witness to the disorder and mayhem that the city seems to be victim to much too often, you’d been lucky. Your apartment has never been broken into, you’ve never had your purse stolen in broad daylight, nor have you been held at gunpoint.

Maybe you were born with the knack of always being in the right place at the right time. Or maybe, just maybe, you had someone looking out for you.

At least, that’s what if felt like a few years ago.

You wonder if anyone else has noticed that the Robin they see fighting on the streets, jumping from rooftop to rooftop, was not the original Robin.

You’ve heard stories of the Batman for years, practically grew up watching the news cover his fights with major threats like the Joker and the Riddler, and he almost seemed like a fairytale—the dark hero that keeps the monsters from coming to get you in the night. It wouldn’t surprise you if no one questioned the child, now teenager, fighting alongside him, maybe because he seemed like a myth, too. You remember the time Robin first appeared alongside the Dark Knight, flipping over bad guys with a boyish laugh only to hit them where it hurts when they least expect it.

You remember the first Robin and you’ve met, befriended, maybe even loved (if teenage you even knew what that meant, what that entailed) the second.

Your Robin.

The boy who fought with strength that seemed to come from someone much bigger than himself.

You were a couple months into your freshmen year of high school when you first ran into him.

You were once again out late at night, not your choice, really, the library had run out of paper and you really needed to photocopy several chapters from a first edition (something you cannot check out) for your homework, and were just about to take a short cut through an alley when you stumbled into something you were sure you were going to see all over social media tomorrow.

Robin stood with his back to you, his attention on four grown men in different states of collapse. Two were face down on the ground, hands zip tied behind their back. One was leaning against a dumpster, eyes unfocused and drool and blood dripping from his mouth. The last was dangling upside down from the fire escape. He was missing a shoe and his jacket was slipping off his arms.

You were so focused on taking in the sight of it all (it really is different witnessing something in person than seeing it on a screen) that you didn’t realize that Robin was now looking at you, a curious frown on his face.

“I wouldn’t go down here if I were you,” he said, forcing your attention to him, thumb over his shoulder, pointing at the scene behind him like he needed to clarify what he was talking about.

“I, I need to get home,” you told him, almost embarrassed by how small your voice sounded. After all, it wasn’t every day you got to talk to Robin. “It’s, uh, faster through here.”

“Faster doesn’t always mean safer.” Robin gestured to the bodies behind him again, emphasizing the scene once more. “If that wasn’t obvious.”

“Good thing I wasn’t here a minute too soon then,” you let out a huff. You wanted to take his advice, you really did, but again, you needed to get home and it was only getting later. “I doubt there’re more hiding around the corner there… maybe if I’m quick…”

“I think it would be better if you stick to where the light is, Miss.” There was a bit of impatience laced in his tone. You figured that Robin had better places to be now that his job here was done. There was only more crime to stop in Gotham. “Or, I don’t know, maybe call someone to get you.”

You couldn’t keep yourself from pouting at his insistence that you don’t take the shortcut. You really didn’t want to be picked up and lectured if you could help it. There was a reason why you chose to walk home despite the risks.

“But that could take like thirty minutes. Can’t you just, I don’t know, escort me? Isn’t that like in your guidelines?”

The Boy Wonder let out a short, surprised laugh. The restless energy he was exuding fading. “Guidelines?”

“Yeah.” You perked up as well, glad that he no longer seemed like he was trying to get rid of you. “Superheroes save cats from trees and help old ladies cross the street. Things like that.”

“I must have missed the memo,” Robin said, grinning. “It really says that?”

“Yup. Pretty sure I’ve read it in Superheroing for Dummies or something.” You gave him a smile. “So, what do you say?”

The boy put his hand on his hip, a sort of thinking pose, you guessed, before he shrugged his shoulder. “Oh, what the heck,” he said under his breath. “C’mon. What kind of hero would I be if I don’t make sure you get home safely?”

And he did get you home in one piece, his presence reassuring and comforting on the walk back to your old apartment building.

You didn’t expect him to make small talk, he looked like the type who was comfortable in silence, preferred it, but he asked about the papers you had cradled in your arms and surprised you with some recommendations for your paper, suggested other books to look into. When you reached the front steps of the building, keys out to unlock the door, you didn’t even have the chance to thank him before he disappeared into the night. You looked into the sky, hoping to catch a glimpse of him but, alas, all you saw was darkness.

With a sigh of disappointment, you figured that maybe that was the last time you would see the Boy Wonder.

But then you caught sight of him right before the bank down the street practically burst into flames, people in heavy body armor running out with bags of money, and you watched him jump down from an impressive height, landing a kick on a goon twice his size.

And, again, you saw him brooding on one of the buildings you walked past on your way home, almost missing him if not for the chill that went down your spine, the telltale sign that you were being watched. Once you saw how his brightly colored suit looked in contrast with the dark skies of Gotham, it got easier to spot him running on top of buildings before disappearing into the shadows.

And again, and again, and again, outside the library’s doors, back against the wall, waiting for you.

“It’s late,” he would say, like this wasn’t the first time he’d wait for you to finish your schoolwork.

He said it like it was a coincidence that he was there, like he hadn’t waited for you about a dozen times before—in front of the school’s gates after you stayed back to decorate the classroom for the holidays, by the bus stop when you returned to the city after a weekend at your grandparents, behind the gazebo in the park when you stayed out late into the night just because being at home was too stifling.

“Shouldn’t you be home by now?”

“And leave you with nothing to do during your patrol?” You smiled when he took your backpack from you, the weight of your borrowed books practically nothing to him. “We all know how quiet Gotham is at night.”

“Safest city in the country.” He agreed before a thoughtful look passed over his features.

It was a familiar sight and you stayed quiet, waiting for him to speak.

Your friendship with the Boy Wonder (confirmed after a particularly awkward conversation that involved a lot of uhms and uhs and flushed faces) was special, unique—the kind of friendship that you were pretty sure you’d trust him with your secrets, your life, but he couldn’t return the favor, because of course he couldn’t, but you still trusted him and he still tried, tried to give you what he could, so you waited for him to gather his thoughts and put it into words that he could say.

“You’re…,” he began, clearing his throat. “You’re not afraid of heights, are you?”

“I don’t think I am. I do live on like the tenth floor. Why?”

Robin pulled out what you’d come to know as a grappling hook from his back, waving it with a grin on his face. It didn’t take you even a second to know what he was trying to say, and you found yourself returning his excited look.

“No. Can we, really?”

“Just hold tight,” he said as his only warning, arm suddenly tight around your waist, forcing you to press close to his side, your arms immediately wrapping around him before he lifted the grappling hook and shot upwards, sending you both into the midnight sky of Gotham, laughter lost in the wind.

A year into knowing Robin, he handed you what you at first thought was simply a keychain shaped like a bat. The visit started with him practically scaring you out of your seat, pointing out a misspelling you had in your research paper, his face so close to yours that you caught a whiff of his mint toothpaste in his breath.

“Jesus.” You breathed out, heart practically in your throat. You heard him laugh behind you, footsteps walking away. With a quick glance at the clock on your desk you saw that you’ve been working on your paper for a good couple of hours, so focused that you’ve literally lost track of time and your surroundings.

“Hello to you, too, Robin,” you said to him with a roll of your eyes, pushing your chair back and turning to look at him. He’s climbed into your room through the window again, tracking the dirt and grime from Gotham’s streets onto your fluffy rug.

“Here,” he said, tossing the keychain over his back. You barely caught it, jumping out of your chair to keep it from clattering to the ground, glaring at him when you have it safely in your hands. “Keep this with you, will ya?”

“And what is this?” You looked it over, thumb gliding over the metal finish. The wings felt sharp enough to slice through your skin if you weren’t careful.

“Good luck charm.” Robin said with a shrug, purposely not looking at you. “Might save you one day.”

“Oh yeah? How so?” You asked even though you saw the button. It reminded you of those anti-crime buzzers the school handed out at the beginning of the year. You had yours hanging on your backpack, unused, luckily.

Robin finally looked at you and frowned deeply, unamused, when he saw the look on your face. You knew that he knew that you knew what it was, what you were supposed to do with it when the time came, but you wanted him to explain it to you anyway, just to show that he cared. You watched him struggle with himself for a minute before he let out a grumble, marching over to you.

You immediately realized that you’d miscalculated your teasing because Robin was in front of you, standing close as he flipped the bat in your hands. You looked at him through your lashes, took in his features up close. You thought that his nose was slightly crooked, probably from being broken a few times, and there was a cut on his lip that was healing nicely. You remembered when it was fresh and bleeding, half his face discolored from a blossoming bruise, and you were rightly horrified at the sight, never thinking that Robin would crawl through your window, hands on his bruised ribs, cape and uniform dirty and torn.

It was nerve wracking having to patch him back up to the best of your ability with your makeshift First Aid kit. And keeping an eye on him as he slept over the covers of your bed, the sun only just beginning to rise, waiting for your alarm to ring. He had promptly passed out after a quick call to, you want to say Batman to reassure him that he was alive and that he’d be home soon. You promised that you’d wake him before morning so that he could go back to the Bat Cave.

(Bat Cave! You never would have thought such a thing existed.)

You let him sleep in just a bit longer, scared that he’d probably collapse on his way to homebase.

Sometimes it was easy to forget that Robin wasn’t indestructible. That like you, he was only human.

And he was young.

It was fairly easy to see that he was your age, voice young but had definitely already cracked before you’d met. You were about the same height, but you could already see that in time—probably sooner than you’d like—he’d outgrow you, shoot up like bean and gloat about it for the foreseeable future.

But for now, for now you were the same height, and if Robin were to look up from your hands to see if you understood his explanation—there really wasn’t much to say, really, just press the button when you’re in danger and he’d come save you—you’d find that everything would align—you’d be eye to eye, nose to nose, and lips to lips.

The thought caused you to blush and take a step away from him when he did look up.

“Press the button, gotcha,” you said, clearing your throat. The room was warmer all of a sudden, but the weight of the key chain felt heavy in your hand—it scared you to think that one day you were going to have to use it.

“Hey, don’t worry,” Robin said, voice soft, clearly catching the change in your mood, practically read your mind. “Angel,” he held your hand tightly in his, grounding you. “No matter what, I’ll come to you, okay? Nothing can stop me from coming back to you.”

“Promise?” You asked, looking him in the eyes. Or in the mask. The whites of his domino mask hid one of the biggest secrets you’d always wanted to know.

“I promise,” he swore and a moment between you two, both unmoving, eye to eye, passed before he cleared his throat, red blossoming on his cheeks. You felt the same warmth on your own, but you didn’t look away from him. He probably felt the weight of his words in that moment, realized the kind of promise he’s made. But he didn’t take it back. Instead, he tried to shrug it off like it was no big deal.

“Besides,” he said, grin forming on his lips once again. “If you’re lucky you’ll never have to use it.”

And you were lucky, for the most part.

You kept the keychain with you, fashioned it into a necklace when you figured that if you were in any danger, your bag and phone would probably be the first to go. You never had to use it, thankfully, never found yourself in a situation that called for it.

But oh, was it tempting. Because although you and Robin were friends, it wasn’t like you could send him a text or an email and ask if he wanted to meet up for a movie. Or you could if only you had his contact details.

Apparently, friends of vigilantes aren’t exactly privy to that kind of information. Like his name or what he really looks like.

So, yes, it was tempting to use, what you fondly called, the bat buzzer because you knew it would bring Robin to you and maybe it would make him mad, make him think that you’re in danger, but some nights when the pressure from your parents and school and maybe just life in general was too much, you wished there was an easier way to get Robin to your side, to have him be with you if only just to listen to you rant or hold you when you cry.

But you wouldn’t do that to him. No. You wouldn’t abuse the power of the buzzer like that. You wouldn’t take Robin’s attention away from what could be something important just to keep you company.

So, the bat stayed around your neck, the metal cool against your skin, as you waited for the next time you would see Robin again.

And wait you did.

You waited for him. You waited for him outside the library, looked out for him when the sky grew dark on your way home, and stayed by your window, eyes scanning roof tops in the hopes that you’d see the bright red of his uniform.

You waited for what felt like a lifetime, worried when for a time after Batman sent Joker to Arkham in a full body cast, you’d see pictures of the Dark Knight on your feed, alone, fighting crime without the Boy Wonder by his side. You wanted to use the buzzer then, just to see him, to see if he was alright. But something told you that even if you pressed the button he wasn’t going to come.

And the thought of that made your chest cold, made your heart hurt in a way that made you understand why they described it as broken, so to ease the pain, you decided that maybe not knowing was better than knowing. That if you never called for him, there was still a possibility that somewhere out there, he was okay and, in time, maybe, hopefully, he’d come back.

So, you left the button alone and waited.

Waited until images popped up online of a costumed boy with a familiar R on his brightly colored suit fighting off bad guys with a bō staff.

It was Robin.

Only, he wasn’t your Robin.

And maybe that was the confirmation that you needed that if you were to push the button, your Robin wasn’t going to come.

But right now, on the cold hard floor of the cage you’re in, with music blaring from the speakers that the Freaks dragged into the building, you wonder if you should take that risk.

You hear the moans and cries of the other hostages, pleading for someone to save them, hear the taunting of the Freaks as they tell you that no one was going to come, and you wonder what would happen if you pushed the button on the bat’s back.

Because what was there to lose? Your luck has run out. You were taken in the night and now you’re forced to listen to awful heavy metal music and stare up at your captor’s made up face, his awful excuse of clown make up smeared from sweat and grime, and you think that this isn’t how you want to go, that this freak isn’t the last thing you want to see, that this noise isn’t the last thing you want to hear, and God forbid this stench is the last thing you’re going to smell, so with nothing else to lose, you bring out the bat around your neck and push the button down as hard as you can.

And you wait.

...

Chapter 2