#scriddler fic

[acapelladitty]

fulmination

pairing: edward nygma/jonathan crane

summary: during an argument with edward, jonathan finds himself tempted by the very worst parts of himself. (this piece of writing was a collaborated brainchild with the very skilled and utterly delightful @skxtchyghost)

The argument was familiar; two bitter men who staunchly refused to meet on common ground while maintaining an unwillingness to give an inch of their opinion made such disagreements a regular occurrence. Less regular, yet still a constant threat between them, was the violence which both men were willing to wield without care or consideration as they lashed out their frustrations.

Edward had been the first to succumb as Jonathan fell victim to his more volatile traits and struck out like a serpent, sinking his venom into Edward's thigh as he pressed down harshly on the plunger of his toxin-filled syringe and ignored the howl of outrage from his injured prey.

It had taken only a panicked minute before Edward dropped to his knees, his racing pulse only serving to spread the toxin quicker through his veins, and a harsh shove from Jonathan had sealed his fate as Edward found himself splayed on the cool carpet with Jonathan straddling his hips - pinning him to the floor and claiming inevitable victory.

Pleased with his win despite the anger which continued to sizzle across his heated skin, Jonathan grinned viciously as he stared down at Edward. His spindly hands moved with speed, darting to Edward's wrists to pin them roughly to the floor above his head.

"You lose, Eddie." Snarling the pet name with obvious mocking, Jonathan didn't miss the twitch of irritation that still managed to break through Edward's frightened expression as he fought to slow his breathing and fight off the encroaching toxin.

"Cheat." Edward hissed out from between clenched teeth. "Bastard! And a cheat!"

Adrenaline making his fingers tremble, Jonathan laughed at the accusation, a cruel noise which fluttered in the space between them, and tightened his grip until open discomfort flared across Edward's face. "Don't deflect, boy. We both know that you're the cheat and the one who owes all his meagre successes to others."

It was a lie, but a lie which had the desired effect as the words struck Edward like a open-palmed blow, sinking deep into his psyche to be absorbed alongside the toxin which was now visibly causing him to sweat as his breathing grew more laboured.

"No! No. No. N-no." A repeated mantra, one matched by the thrashing of Edward's head as his perfectly coiffed hair fell into ruin against the carpet. "Lying, always lying to wheedle me with your shit, Crane. It's all you know."

The dosage was on the lower side of things, not enough to truly spark hallucinations and terror, but certainly enough to make the weakened Edward more docile as he fought the wicked effects.

"I don't lie, not to you." Jonathan crooned. "We both know that you revel in truth and facts. Wordplay is a game for us and you cannot stand to be the loser. So you lie and you cheat to gain the upper hand, accusations which all stem from the same truth. A cheater..."

The heat of Edward's body pressed insitently against Jonathan's groin as he struggled and the sordid position wasn't lost on Jonathan - his mind flicking through recollections laced with sweat-slicked skin and the delightful fullness of Edward inside him as he viciously clawed red marks into his exposed, hair-flecked chest.

Even now, with Edward's wide, glassy green gaze darting to and from his own, the clear panic and distress which flowed from his upturned mouth and lined forehead only served to stoke the lust which their close proximity sparked.

"Will you be good, Edward? A good boy for me, one who doesn't lie or cheat?" Jonathan asked, his tone laced with arousal as his cock stiffened. It wouldn't be the first time they had fucked, high on his toxin, and - if he had his way - it wouldn't be the last.

"I never cheat. I'm good."

A desperate denial as Edward's breath grew more erratic and his hips canted into Jonathan's thin ass - his body seeking the sensations it desired even as his mind whirled and strained against itself. Stimuli was stimuli and a hot body would always be more appealing than a shifting shadow.

"I said," placing emphasis on the word, Jonathan felt his cock twitch anew and his sharpened tone forced a flinch across Edward's straining body, "will you be good for me? Only me, boy."

"Yes!" Edward practically heaved the word, his distressed gaze staring through Jonathan, "I'll be good, sir."

Not expecting the title, Jonathan groaned and adjusted his slacks with his free hand, the pressure of his fingers brushing against his cock making his head swim with possibility. If Edward was amenable, cognitive enough to respond to him like this, then perhaps he really could be convinced to engage in a little sordid...

...and before the thought could fully form, Edward's eyes fluttered shut and his body went fully limp beneath Jonathan's thin hips.

"Well, fuck." Jonathan grunted, his excitement deflating in an instant as a cruel anger flickered in its place - a desire to lash out in his frustration and punish the unconscious Edward for his failure to remain with him in the moment. He resisted, however, and a quick measure of Edward's pulse confirmed that he was fine.

Huffing as he pulled himself to his feet, Jonathan dropped a hand to his still-hard cock as he stood there dumbly for a moment. That little voice, the one which tickled his thoughts and pressed him to his worst self, whispered ideas of continuing, of using Edward as he was - limp and fully submissive in a way which his conscious mind would never allow - but he shook such an idea away as the fallout would no doubt be messier than he was willing to deal with.

Leaving Edward like a marionette with its strings cut, Jonathan retreated to their shared bedroom and instead dropped to the edge of the bed with a weary sigh as his fingers fumbled messily at his slacks. It took only a moment to free his hardened cock and the instant relief of wrapping his cool hand around the shaft stole a groan from his lips.

He pleasured himself slowly, splitting his attentions between stroking along his length and massaging the balls below, building up the delicious tension across his groin as his mind conjured images of what could have been.

Edward splayed beneath him, his expression glassy yet heated as his hips bucked without thought, impaling Jonathan on his cock as they both allowed their baser nature to consume them.

Fear and arousal.

Predator and willing prey.

Two brilliant minds finding pleasure in the other in a way that no other could.

The sharp noise of a clearing throat dragged him from his thoughts with a vicious start and Jonathan's head whipped around to the doorway of the bedroom to find Edward standing there with a conflicted expression that quickly smoothed out to nothing as he held Jonathan's eye. He was angry, Jonathan could tell, and that anger sat in the sharpness of his gaze and the flush of colour which painted his freckled cheeks a shade of pink.

"That's fucked up." Edward stated simply, looking between Jonathan's face and his cock as his spindly hand resumed its movements to slowly stroke along the length. "You're a sick man. Sick in the head."

"If you're body weren't so weak and unable to handle a mild dose of toxin then we could have both enjoyed something fruitful. As it stands, this is what I am reduced to."

Unashamed, Jonathan released his cock and stared openly at Edward - allowing him to view him in his entirety.

"Beast." Edward sniffed. "Despite your bastardry, I do appreciate the reduced dosage i csn feel making my fingers shake. I have a lunch tomorrow with my girls and they would not enjoy watching me sweat my way through my chicken while desperately searching the shadows for my father."

"Sounds ideal. Perhaps I'll join." His cock abandoned despite its continued arousal as it jutted free of the unruly patch of pubic hair which encircled its base, Jonathan's hand instead scratched at his covered thigh.

"You're not welcome."

"Nina and Diedre-"

"-think you're a cantankerous old crow who is in their debt after that mess in the Lounge they helped you out with."

Snapping his mouth shut, Jonathan glowered at the reminder - his wrist only recently having fully healed from its injuries. Oswald had gifted the table with an expensive collection of white wines and Jonathan has discovered, first hand, that his tolerance of that particular drink was wretched at best.

Jonathan made a dismissive noise in his throat as he returned his hand to his length, absent-mindedly stroking along the sensitive skin as he chose to ignore Edward's words.

"If you're not going to lend a hand then I'll ask that you have the decency to provide me some privacy."

Their earlier argument all but forgotten even as the promise of revenge danced in Edward's sharp eyes, it took the slighty trembling redhead a moment to unleash a long suffering sigh as he turned on his heel and retreated to the living room to fix himself a familiar vitamin cocktail which would take the edge of the remaining toxin as it continued to pulse weakly through his veins.

[greenglowinspooks]

(DCxDP) The obligations of a rogue versus those of a parent (Pt. 4)

—

Tw: descriptions of body horror, Dr. Crane has PTSD and Does Not Realize, Crane has an actual panic attack and just doesn’t care, the Riddler makes one (1) sex joke about Batman

Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually

(Pt. 1 here) (Prev here) - (Pt. 5 here)

(Masterlist here)

—

Dr. Jonathan Crane is in his lab, the acrid scent of chemicals filling the air, and his hands are shaking.

Danny’s health, for the first week that he had him, had been steadily improving at an extremely quick rate. However, his healing had begun to stagnate. Danny said that it was because his body had run out of ectoplasm, and that while there was a lot of ambient ectoplasm in Gotham, he needed a stronger type in order to heal.

And so, that led Dr. Crane here.

He had stolen the research notes from the Penguin years ago regarding his experimentation on him.

(He quite vividly remembers the sound of bone creaking and groaning as it twisted, lengthened. The squelching of shifting tendons and muscles, the strange fabric-like tightening of skin. The feeling of going from man to monster, of losing all claim to his humanity.)

Danny had called him Liminal, part ghost. He had said that he was transformed by, among other things, a kind of synthetic ectoplasm.

Danny needed ectoplasm.

Crane had the research notes. He had every ingredient necessary. And yet, attempt after attempt failed.

The chemical smell burns his nose. His hands tremble.

Dr. Crane is not afraid.

He doesn’t feel fear anymore. He’s tried to, many, many times, but nothing has worked. And yet, his hands are shaking still.

(The horrifying sensation of vertebrae pop-pop-popping along his spine, growing and lengthening. The unbearable itching beneath his skin as toxin glands begin to form. The feeling of his teeth sharpening and elongating, of his skull growing, of his vision changing and brightening. The awful stench of chemicals. The awful stench of ectoplasm.)

Jonathan takes careful note of his shaking hands, his blurring vision, his accelerated heart-rate and shallow breathing.

(Human hands. Human vision. Human heart and lungs and organs.)

He takes note of them, but he does not let that distract him from the task at hand. Danny is not a chemist, but Jonathan is.

The boy knows enough about chemistry in theory, but he won’t go anywhere near Crane’s equipment. He seems to have some sort of intense fear of laboratory settings, probably developed during his stay with the GiW, and Crane is willing to respect that, if only because he cannot afford to lose him.

As such, Crane is the only one qualified to do this. And, unfortunately, if he isn’t successful the boy may very well die.

He heats the chemicals to precisely the right temperatures, adding each one to its correct container.

Dr. Crane thinks of the Scarebeast, that creature born of cruelty and greed and a sense of superiority. That creature which he tries to ignore is a part of him, that can never be removed. A damage which cannot be undone.

He pours the contents of a small beaker into a larger flask, watching the liquids swirl together. The stench in the air is becoming closer and closer to the one burned into his memory.

Crane’s whole body is wracked with unpleasant sensations. It’s truly unfortunate, he thinks, that despite his mind’s lack of fear, his body still reacts so harshly.

Jonathan’s eyes wander, eventually settling on a purple and green card sitting innocently on the corner of the table.

Right.

Even if they wiped out the GiW tomorrow, and even if Danny could survive without ectoplasm, he would still be in danger.

Crane has to get him back to good health. It’s the only way he can be sure that the boy can defend himself properly.

The solution in the flask begins to foam, and Jonathan does not hesitate as he adds the final ingredient. He pours the mixture into a new container, capping it and placing it into a freezer set to -40 degrees.

Hopefully this time he got the timing right.

Jonathan tries to relax, the ventilation in the room slowly but surely clearing the familiar smell from the air.

He thinks of the letter.

Surely, he thinks, that man can come up with some better material for his jokes. Or, at least something new.

Same old threats, same old attempted poisoning.

Aiming his threats at Danny, though, that was new. New and utterly unacceptable.

Scarecrow did what he had to.

He doubted that his solution would last forever, of course, as with that man it never did. As such, he would prepare both himself and Danny for the inevitable moment that his choices came back to bite them.

However, for the moment, they were safe. Danny could rest and recover, and Jonathan could figure out a plan to minimize possible damages.

Jonathan is no longer shaking.

He’s exhausted. This is his fifth attempt today, and each one leaves an unfortunate strain on his mind and body.

With a sigh, he settles himself into his seat at a nearby desk, opening up his computer and logging his most recent attempt. He still has to wait for it to chill to know if it was successful, but he can always update the logs later.

Once he’s done, he stretches, joints popping loudly as he walks to the freezer.

When he sees the results of his tireless work, the ghost of a smile flits across his face.

Success.

Jonathan picks up the jug of ectoplasm and leaves the lab, which is in all actuality the basement of the new apartment that he moved himself and Danny into after receiving the note. The scrappy old woman who was his landlord had told him that as long as he paid her five hundred dollars up front, she would let him set up in the basement without any questions or cop calls.

And so, the most expensive apartment in the Narrows was his.

At least, he thought, the distance between the basement and the apartment was short enough that Danny didn’t have to sit in while he was doing his labwork.

Jonathan knew that he didn’t exactly have a strong grasp on the concept of ‘lab safety,’ proven by his built-up immunity to almost every toxic chemical he’d ever encountered, and he doubted that Danny should be around such an environment.

He was back to the apartment quickly, not bothering to hide the self-satisfied smile on his face. Danny is sitting in his armchair, trying to read one of his books. Danny looks up, ready to greet him, when he sees the jug in his hands and pauses.

“Is that..?”

“Synthetic ectoplasm,” Jonathan says proudly, “I found the Penguin’s research notes and decided to recreate it, since you said that you needed it to heal properly. I’m not sure if it’ll work the same as what you usually have, but I hope it’s helpful all the same.”

Danny is standing, now, and looking at Jonathan with a strange look in his eyes. He looks, Jon thinks, like he’s about to cry.

Then Danny is rushing forward and wrapping his arms around Jonathan, his scrawny form shaking.

Jonathan is, for a moment, horrified. Did he do something wrong somehow? Why is this child, who’s so afraid of touch, hugging him?

And then he hears Danny’s voice, and he knows that it was all worth it.

“Thank you,” he’s mumbling, over and over, “thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you so much.”

“Of course,” Jonathan says softly, because what else can he say?

The boy cries in his arms for a while, and Jonathan briefly wonders what his life must have been like before, if a person like him can be seen as a comforting figure.

Then, Danny pours himself a small glass of the synthetic ectoplasm, putting the rest into the small fridge which had come with the apartment, and he settles back down, sitting in the armchair once again.

Jonathan sits opposite of him, and they chat with one another as Danny drinks.

Danny talks to him about the stars and tells him about different spaceships, and Jonathan makes sure to pay attention and ask the boy questions.

He doesn’t miss the way that Danny lights up every time he asks him something about his interests. He’s so passionate, so smart, a trait that he seldom sees outside of his fellow rogues, and Jonathan wants to encourage that.

It’s…nice. Peaceful, almost.

And then the front door flies open, because Jonathan isn’t allowed to have nice things.

“Jon,” a familiar voice rings out, “what the hell?!”

Danny is frozen in place, clearly terrified.

Jonathan heaves a sigh, turning to face the nuisance who’s entered his apartment.

“Eddie,” he drawls, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Edward’s face is red with anger as he invades Jonathan’s apartment.

“Oh, I don’t know! Maybe it’s the fact that you sent a bunch of rogues a cryptic message and then dropped off the face of the earth for two weeks! I was worried, Jon!”

Jonathan hums in acknowledgement.

“I didn’t think it was that cryptic,” he says, picking up a book in order to pointedly ignore the Riddler.

“Oh, of course you didn’t, you straw-stuffed hickory dickory dickhead. I swear, you’re always—” he pauses, finally having noticed Danny sitting opposite of Jonathan, “—who is this?”

“My apprentice,” Jonathan replies, dreading the upcoming headache he was no doubt going to develop from Edward’s company, “he’s helping me hunt down the GiW. His name is Danny.”

Edward gasps dramatically.

“You—an apprentice?! And you’re letting him sit in the old man chair?! You don’t even let me sit in the old man chair,” he wails, draping himself over the headrest of the couch with a flourish, “Jonathan, I thought I knew you!”

“Edward,” Jonathan says, “get out of my apartment.”

“Oh my goodness, this is incredible. You’re becoming the bat!”

“I am not becoming the bat, Eddie, now get out.”

Edward has a shit-eating grin on his face as he waltzes over to Danny. Danny, who seemed terrified when he first appeared, is now looking at him with obvious amusement written all over his face.

“I mean, look at him! The hair, the eyes, the scrappy build. If you put him in one of those traffic light vigilante costumes, he could easily pass as a Robin!”

“I’m not doing this with you today, Eddie.”

“Riddle me this, Jon: I am a treasure hidden inside of a chest. You can break me, or steal me, or give me a rest. I can flutter, or pound, or attack, or drop, but if you don’t have me, you’re certainly fucked. What am I?”

Jonathan pauses for a moment before he groans, dropping his head into his hands.

“Eddie.”

Danny sits still, a confused look on his face as he repeats the riddle silently. Then, his face lights up in delight.

“A heart!”

“Jon, I like this one,” Edward says with a smile, ruffling Danny’s hair, “you are correct! A heart, something that I wasn’t aware that our dear Jonathan had!”

“Eddie, stop.”

“No, no,” Edward says, “I was worried about you, you deserve this. I mean, you even missed girls night! You never miss girls night!”

“Girls night?” Danny asks, absolutely delighted.

“Oh, of course,” Edward says, sprawling over on the couch, dangerously close to just laying in Jonathan’s lap, “we have it once a week. I’m invited because of Selina and Jon’s invited because Harley likes him.”

“And what does girls night entail, exactly?”

“Eddie,” Jonathan groans, “please.”

“Well,” Edward hums, “we usually paint our nails, or watch a movie, or gossip about the other rogues, and occasionally, we tell each other about any ‘encounters’ we have with Batman,” he says, raising his eyebrows up and down.

Danny’s jaw drops.

“Edward, shut up,” Jonathan says, an irritated tone in his voice that wasn’t there before.

“No way,” Danny says, “I thought that Batman, like, hated you guys or something. You mean he actually..?”

“Oh, the Bat is much like a bottle of liquor or a cheap cigarette, in that he was made to be passed around.”

Danny chokes on air.

“Edward Nygma,” Jonathan hisses, getting out of his seat and looming over the man, “get the hell out.”

Edward pales.

“Leaving, leaving!” Edward says, dashing away from Jonathan. He pauses, turning to flash Danny a quick smile.

“Remember Danny, I’m your favorite uncle! Not any of the other rogues, me!”

With that, he leaves, the room falling completely silent.

And, as per usual, that silence does not last.

“You full-named him?” Danny asks gleefully, “and it worked?”

Jonathan just sighs, sitting down on the couch and rubbing at his temples.

“Please, don’t take anything Eddie says seriously. He’s a moron.”

“Dr. Crane, please let me come to girls night with you,” Danny pleads, his eyes sparkling, “I promise I won’t embarrass you.”

Jonathan groans.

“Of course you won’t, Eddie will do it for you.”

“Come on, please?”

“I think we’re a bit busy with the GiW at the moment,” Jonathan snaps. He pauses as he notices the crestfallen expression on Danny’s face.

This boy is going to be the death of him.

“Perhaps, though, when all that is taken care of…”

Danny cheers, grinning wildly, and Jonathan is not at all relieved to see him happy again. Certainly not.

The rest of the day is relatively normal.

Danny works on trying to get information from the GiW database while Crane refines his his fear toxin, both preparing for a raid on the GiW base they located in Gotham.

It was only a temporary base, nothing of note, but there was a chance of discovering more bases through it, and that wasn’t something either of them were willing to give up.

Still, something like this would take time. Rushing would only lead to failure.

…

Late in the night, long after Danny is fast asleep in his room, Jonathan pauses.

The GiW are not the only threat out there. They aren’t the only threat to him or to Danny. Perhaps it could be helpful to reach out to someone with greater resources than himself.

He sends a quick message to Red Hood.

Hopefully, he thinks, everything will go smoothly.

—

[blackiraven]

Finally! Scriddler!

🌚⚗🧪✨🧡💚

[rhouxl]

“You-...” Edward started, putting on that same stupidly frantic smile of nervousness, Crane always faintly enjoyed the way Edward’s panic tended to unwind into a strange sort of animalistic fear. “Jon, come on, it was just a-... It was a-... Well-...” He trailed off, shrinking back as Crane shifted somewhat closer, the only sort of apparent emotion crossing his face being the way he unblinkingly tilted his head just slightly as Edward struggled to find the right words to let him out of this scenario unscathed.

— Edward's Eccentricities, Ch. 2, by @toacho

[chaotic-toby]

Btaa scriddler. Btaa scriddler. Btaa scriddler. Btaa scriddler. Btaa scriddler. Btaa scriddler. Btaa scriddler. Btaa scriddler. Btaa scriddler. Btaa scriddler. Btaa scriddler. Btaa scriddler

[feartoxinjelloshot]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65056429

plugging my 2nd scriddler fic here because people have expressed interest in more. this one is half the length of the first one, far less serious, and REALLY REALLY SEXUAL. LIKE DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU ARE UNDER 18. PRETEND YOU DIDN'T SEE THIS POST. GO AWAY! this also applies if you're an adult who doesn't like reading about sex. but if you are an adult and you do like reading about sex....... boy have i got the fic for you

[sunaddicted]

Spin Me Right Round (Scriddler)

Another delayed post because Tumblr is a cunt! (It's my first scriddler fic btw 😇)

***

Edward had been aware from day one that Jonathan didn't exactly have a romantic disposition: the other man wasn't prone to loud and clear love declarations; he definitely wasn't one for grand public gestures; and he held a disdain for every anniversary or commercial holiday that was pushed onto the helpless population with aggressive marketing.

And really, Edward didn't blame him.

He didn't even disagree on things such as Valentine’s day being trite and the skyrocketing price of chocolate in February being enough to drive anyone insane. He didn't even need public declarations of love, not since the other Rogues had been instructed that the Scarecrow was off-limits and whoever touched him would be bludgeoned to death with his cane. And fine, even if Jon said the actual three magic words every once in a blood moon, Edward had learned to interpret some little gestures and phrases as the “I love you”s they were meant to be.

Where he drew the line was being gassed with Fear Toxin on what was supposed to be the most romantic day of the year, no matter their feelings on the holiday in itself.

Edward leaned back against the wall, the pads of his fingers aching with how strongly he was holding onto the paneled wood with his digits - increased heart rate; laboured breathing; profuse sweating; rising paranoia and a distinctive swoop in his stomach: all symptoms present and accounted for.

Edward was scared out of his mind.

He squeezed his eyes closed even if he knew from experience that it wouldn't help; the visual hallucinations would morph into auditory or sensory ones, the toxin stimulating every single one of his senses to lock him in a state of terror.

Still, he tried.

Still, he was only human.

Jon hadn't meant to gas Edward.

(Continues on ao3)

[cherryzz-pen]

She Walks On A Path Of Empty Lies - Master-List

(This Master-List is in the works and will be updated continuously.)

FIC SUMMARY: All you wanted to do was three things in life those being get through school, move out of your parents house eventually, and find the healthiest way to mitigate your health problems. All of which didn’t seem to be working due to the last thing on your list. Until an opportunity arose that took you away from home that was worth the risk…Until maybe you felt your efforts were in vain upon meeting two very interesting characters.

Authors Note

Chpt. 1

Chpt. 2

Chpt. 3

Chpt. 4

Chpt. 5

[bathtub4rats]

I know who you are. I know what you did.

another art installment in my silly cryptid au hehhe

[batmanie]

Gunpoint therapy

The sound of a not-so-distant gunshot woke him up from his restless slumber, feverish and weak Scarecrow snapped his better eye open. A moment later, someone was banging at his door. A GCPD? No, impossible. His shabby, little safe house in Chinatown shouldn’t be on their radar just yet.

With some effort, he pulled himself up from his green, tattered couch and limped to the door. Rapid banging continued, giving him additional reason for a headache.

“Coming…,” he muttered hatefully under his breath at whomever was on the other side of the door.

The sight of a long, dark gun barrel pointing directly at his face greeted Scarecrow as soon as he cracked the door open.

“Edward, what a pleasant surprise. Is that a gun? Or are you simply happy to see me?”

“Don’t play with me, Crane,” the man on the other side hissed with pure rage. He pushed at the door, trying to get in but the door chain stopped him from doing so. “Open up! We need to talk!”

Unfazed by the fact that the gun in the other man’s hand was obviously loaded and ready to be used, Scarecrow took a long, judging look at his guest. Riddler’s face was partially covered by the green hood of a tacky raincoat. The man was angry, soaked by a pouring rain, dripping water and hatred. There were blood stains on Edward’s cargo pants and on his heavy-duty boots but from the man’s entire posture, Scarecrow could tell that he wasn’t injured. And if it wasn’t his blood, then…

“Did you shoot my bodyguard on your way here?”

“Mind if I did?”

“Not entirely,” Crane admitted with a cruel honesty. “It seems to me he wasn’t too competent anyway,” he added, and removed the door chain.

Riddler stood at his threshold, glaring at him intensely, his finger twitching on a trigger.

Scarecrow took a steady step back, making space for the other to enter the room. Edward stepped in, not lowering his gun for an inch, aiming at Crane’s head.

“What did you do, Crane?”

“You have to be more specific.”

Nigma slammed the door shut with his free hand and pulled off his hood with a rapid motion, spilling raindrops all over the carpet. Scarecrow could see his whole face now, his tired eyes burning with dangerous flames of despair and madness.

“What did you do to me the last time we’ve met?” Riddler demanded, the hand in which he held the gun shaking a little.

“A lot of things,” Scarecrow mused at the memory of their previous hookup, “but nothing you didn’t agreed to.”

“Liar!” Nigma yelled outraged, his face red and twisted with a flush of fury.

For a split second, Crane thought the man was going to fire, but no, he only pressed the gun hard to Jonathan’s left temple, forcing Jon to look directly into his hate-drunk eyes.

“Did you, with your tiny brain, forget who I am?,” the man spat out the insult, grabbing Jon by his collar. Both their faces so close now, that Jonathan could basically smell Edward’s breath. “I am The Riddler! The most brilliant criminal mastermind of all time! I am the one who asks questions. And when I do, I expect you to answer!”

“Fair enough,” Scarecrow’s ever collected demeanor never betrayed any signs of discomfort. “Let me elaborate on my answer then. The last time we’ve met, and it was a week ago, you asked me to fuck you and I kindly agreed.”

Riddler’s right eye nervously twitched at that description, which amused Jonathan to some degree.

“Was I too rough with you, my dear?” he purred, only to mock the oh-so-smart Riddler, “If so…”

“Stop it!” Edward blushed like a virgin. He pulled away, letting go of Scarecrow’s coat and increasing the distance between them. “I’m not talking about… that…”

The ridiculously timid way he articulated ‘that’, made it sound like one of the most shameful things he’d ever done in his life, alongside homicide, terrorism, and joking about mutilating babies. It only reminded Jonathan of how much of a man-child Edward really was, never being able to deal with mature topics.

“Then, what seem to be the problem?” Doctor Crane gently inquired, now genuinely intrigued what was laying on a bottom of this visit and causing Edward’s paranoia. “You wanted to speak with me, Edward. Perhaps, I could help you?”

He pointed at the couch, the same one he had been resting on earlier that evening, encouraging his guest to take a seat.

Riddler didn’t take the invitation, he only eyed him suspiciously, despairingly clutching at his gun.

“I know what you’re doing,” his words came out a little shaky, most likely from an extreme amount of stress he must have been experiencing lately. “You want to exploit my attachment toward you and use it as a leverage against me. But I’m not a fool. I am immune to your poor manipulation techniques!”

“A genius like you feels attached to someone like me? I’m flattered, Edward. Truly.”

“A mere effect of us spending time together, that’s all, but don’t think it will stop me from shooting you dead!”

Any other man would take Riddler’s death-threat to their heart and flee. But not Scarecrow. No. Scarecrow decided to push the armed madman even further. He wouldn’t call himself the Master of Fear if he passed the perfect opportunity to poke at Riddler’s insecurities just now.

“I’m not doubting your capability of killing me, Edward. I’m simply stating that a dead man answers no riddles. Let’s assume you shoot me. Then what?” He stepped forward looking Edward straight into the eyes, slowly but surely pouring his poison into his victim’s mind. “You will be left with never finding out the truth about what I did or didn’t do. Is that what you want? A question without an answer? An equation without a solution?”

“No, I-I…,” Nigma stuttered and paused, seemingly going through the horror behind that scenario inside his brain.

“A frighting thought, isn’t it, Edward? That you might end up not knowing…”

Crane saw the man’s lips quivering lightly, and how he had to bite at the lower one to stop it from trembling.

He used that moment of weakness to close the distance between himself and the Riddler, his bony chest now pressed to the barrel of the gun as it was the only thing separating the two of them.

Edward turned his head away, escaping with his eyes, clearly declaring his own defeat. His grip on the gun had loosened, giving Scarecrow an opening.

“As much as I enjoy our little gunplay, it’s getting a bit old now, don’t you think?”

Nigma’s hand was sweaty, his skin warm, almost hot, to the touch when Jonathan’s slim fingers freed it from the gun.

As soon as the weapon was taken away from him, both Edward’s hands sprung up to his head, fingers clutching onto his own hair in a desperate grip.

“No no no! I-I need my answers,” the man wailed, his shaky voice showing his internal torment. “Why? Why are you doing this? Getting into my head, haunting my dreams? It is not how it was supposed to be!”

Riddler started pacing around the room, his gaze unfocused, and his fingers frantically running through his hair.

“I know you did something to me! You must have drugged me when I was asleep! You used that stupid toxin of yours, don’t you, to mess with mt head, to make me feel this way?!”

Scarecrow observed this scene with both, a sense of intrigued and glee. All the symptoms were there – trust issues, suspicions, intrusive thoughts, even a good old conspiracy theory – it was a classic paranoid personality disorder which was a new and interesting addition to Nigma’s narcissism, OCD, and his delusions of grandeur.

Doctor Crane briefly wondered, if he was the one causing this state, after all he had experimented on Edward once or twice, giving him a taste of the fear toxin. It had been months ago, however, in some cases his toxin could have changed a brain chemistry of a patient permanently.

If so, why didn’t he notice it earlier?

Perhaps, it hadn’t been the toxin after all but simply the pressure of living the life of a criminal, the constant discomfort of never besting the Batman, never proving his superiority to the people of Gotham.

“And how exactly do you feel, Edward?” Voice almost soothing, Jonathan attempted further investigation.

“Cheated! It’s not what I’ve planned,” still pacing Riddler rambled on, spitting the words hastily and wildly gesticulating. “I was supposed to work on my masterplan but I cannot concentrate anymore! And this is all YOUR fault!” He pointed his finger at Jon, who by that time had already found comfortable place in his armchair with Riddler’s revolver laying safely on his lap.

“You were supposed to be my ally,” Edward shouted his unfounded accusations, anger, anxiety, and hurt contorting his features, “my partner in crime, a fellow rogue to share a mutually beneficial relationship with. But you tricked me, you did something to me, and I cannot work, or sleep, or eat! I wake up at night to that reoccurring dream and YOU are always in it!”

“It's called infatuation, Edward,” Scarecrow offered dryly.

“Absurd!” The other was quick to deny. “Who in their right mind would fall in love with a creep like you!?”

There was a short pause as they both stared each other down, Riddler panting with anger and emotional exhaustion, and Scarecrow contemplating the sheer absurdity of this whole situation. And suddenly, a quiet chuckle broke out from Scarecrow’s throat.

“Of course, Edward,” he agreed with an audible amusement. “You are right. As always.”

“I am?” This seemed to please the raging madman, his tantrum starting to die down like last rays of the light at the winter sunset. “I mean, of course I am!” The man corrected himself quickly. “So you admit you intoxicated me?”

“I did not. I simply agree with your previous statement – who in their right mind could possibly have fallen for the likes of me,” Crane chuckled again, this time with dark satisfaction. “I know you won’t believe me but I didn’t poison you, nor did I plot anything else to harm you. I suspect, my presence alone might have subconsciously spooked you, which has affected your dreams. And if that’s the case, I’m sorry.”

Edward didn’t look like he fully trusted that far-fetched explanation, nonetheless, he calmed down.

“Well…” he crossed his arms. “I guess, I will accept your apology, Crane. At least until I find the evidence against your testimony.”

“I’m glad.”

“And for the record,” Nigma through in, eagerly. “I’m not afraid of you.”

“Good,” Scarecrow nodded. “Then, I believe you wouldn’t mind taking off your coat and sitting with me for a little while.” He got up from his chair, left the gun on a coffee-table, and limped toward the kitchen. “Can I fix you something? Gin? Vodka? Morphine?”

“What? Are you crazy?,” Edward called after him from the other room. “Why would you offer me morphine? It is highly addictive! I don’t need anything to drink.”

“Suit yourself.” He returned with two glasses of tap-water and a little, green box of aspirin tablets. “I, on the other hand, definitely need something for my headache.”

Jon sat himself down, dropped two tablets into his glass and placed the other glass in front of Edward who hesitantly joined him on a couch.

“Don’t worry,” he added, seeing the suspicious look that Nigma gave the water. “It’s not fear toxin. You know very well that my concoction has a bright orange color. You also know how I hate to dilute it.”

He put a straw inside his glass and took a sip through a gap in his mask, it was a preferable way of having any liquid in a current condition of his face.

“Now, would you mind telling me about these dreams you had?” He asked, hoping the man would not take any offense at this request.

“Well,” Riddler grabbed his glass and glanced at its content, deep in thoughts. “In that dream, I am walking out through the main door of the asylum. But when I’m about to leave, a sudden flood bursts inside and washes over the corridor, a strong current carries me away, deeper into Arkham. And then,” the man licked his dry lips, he took a sip of water to sooth his sore throat. “Then, you appear. You take my hand and tell me we should hide. We slip into a locker room, and everything is so bright there, but there is a guard about to notice us. You ask me to kill him, putting a gun in my hand. But it feels all wrong, I know I shouldn’t do that for some reason.”

“Most interesting,” Crane allowed himself to make a small comment, letting Edward know that he had his full attention. At the same time, he reprimanded himself internally for not recording this interview. Catching such a unique glimpse of Riddler’s psyche was something that many psychiatrists would pay a little fortune for. “Please, go on.”

Nigma half-emptied his glass with a solid gulp, and cleared his throat before continuing. “I know it sounds absurd, but in that dream I just have this strange feeling that killing this guard will do us no good. But I do it anyway. And when I look down at his lifeless body, his face is all blurred out. It is as if he looked familiar but I cannot recognize him. You congratulate me for the deed, and lead me through the maze of Arkham corridors. It’s a real maze in my dream, nothing like in real life, you know,” Edward paused and yawned widely, small teardrops forming at the corner of his bloodshot eyes. “I’m tired, I should be going.”

The man tried to get up but before he could, Crane’s hand caught his wrist. Nigma faltered and fell back down onto a couch, his face expression rather confused.

“What the…” He touched his forehead, shocked by what had happened. “Why is my head spinning?”

“It’s nothing,” Scarecrow’s velvet-smooth tone of voice was eager to assure him. “You’re sleepy, you haven't slept in a few days, that’s all. But please finish your story.”

Edward yawned once again, too weak to protest when Jonathan’s hands pulled him in to rest his head against Jon’s bony shoulder.

“So we find our way out of the maze, and we stand before a dark staircase.” Riddler’s voice was hushed at this point but Scarecrow could hear him well, cherishing each and every word. “We choose to go down, right into the Arkham depths. Then I usually wake up, panting, cover in sweat...”

“There, there.” Scarecrow’s hand patted his head lightly. “I promise you: No dreams tonight. You can get some rest now.”

It didn’t take long for the sound of Nigma’s snoring to reach Doctor’s Crane ears. The valium he had given to Riddler in his glass of water must have worked its wonders.

It would have been awfully easy to inject the man with fear toxin. Or he could even kill him right here, if he only wished to.

The strange thing was, he didn’t want that, instead, he brushed Eddie’s hair with his slender fingers.

Sitting on his couch with Edward sleeping on his shoulder made him feel outlandishly peaceful. And that feeling filled him with a sense of dread.

“What did you do?” he questioned the snoring man, his tone lacking the usual malice.

There was no answer, of course, but he didn’t really care for any.

“What did you do to me, Edward? Why do you make me feel this way?”

He never would have thought to be this crazy to fall in love with another madman, but if they were going to succumb to the darkest depths of madness, just like in Riddler’s dream, at least they were going to do it together.

[acapelladitty]

Scriddler fic - Bolt The Door

Summary - Edward decides to play the role of stalker as he follows Jonathan around the city while he conducts some business. (nsfw)

Also posted to AO3

Arousal was a fickle mistress but as Edward danced through the shadows of the rapidly darkening Gotham streets in pursuit of his unaware partner, he found it impossible to deny the thrill of the unaware chase and the growing hardness which pressed uncomfortably against his bottle green slacks.

At the other end of the street, his collar tucked high as a deep plum scarf covered most of his identity, Jonathan Crane wove his way through the quiet streets, unaware of the stalking presence which had been following him for some time now. Not for any nefarious purpose, but Edward had found himself afflicted with a terrible boredom that sparked a mischievous desire to play a game with his unassuming partner.

Thus far, things had been simple enough. Jonathan had visited a local pharmacy to pick up a prescription under a name which did not belong to him and he had returned to walking the streets with purpose. Which purpose, Edward was unsure, but the thrill of the uncertain made his steps light as he maintained a steady distance.

The sun disappearing rapidly over the far horizon, Jonathan appeared to take advantage of the declining light to turn on his heel and cut down a darkened alleyway.

Edward followed, tactfully using the shadows to remain hidden as he too rounded the sharp corner.

Jonathan was no longer alone.

A man, his clothing cheap and ragged at the thin edges, stood opposite him and from this perspective, Edward could only just make out the sickly features which broke free of the man's face. An addict. One of Jonathan's contacts perhaps? A hench? An informant? Most likely a dealer, given his threadbare presentation.

Edward, unable to hear their dialogue, instead focused on his observations. Jonathan towered over the unknown dealer, his impressive height allowing him an easy intimidation as he stood with confidence.

Squeezing his thighs together, Edward could not ignore how hard he had grown. How his fingers trembled with arousal as he watched from the shadows, unseen.

A sick, voyeuristic pleasure danced along his skin with every passing moment and he basked in it like a cat in the early morning sun.

A soft noise emerged from Edward's throat in surprise as negotiations clearly turned sour and Jonathan struck out with his fist, catching the dealer in the nose as an audible crack preceded the howl of outrage which the man made as he fell backwards on his ass. It was unexpected; violent and cruel but utterly delightful

Curled around the wall for extra protection, Edward's groin pressed against the cool stone roughly, almost rutting against it as he watched Jonathan approach the now-fallen man.

A glint of steel as a knife appeared in the fray and concern lanced through the arousal which heated Edward's core but it quickly proved to be for nothing as Jonathan dipped to snatch the shaky knife from the man's fingers. In one fell swoop, Jonathan dropped to his haunches and drove the blade deep into the chest of the writhing figure.

Merciless.

Brutal.

Mesmerising.

Palming his cock through his slacks, Edward allowed the adrenaline sweeping through his veins to guide his messy actions as the heel of his hand ground against his throbbing cock, the friction wonderful against his hard, confined length.

A clenched fist blocked the sweet sounds which threatened to slip free his lips as his orgasm struck him with urgency. It was wet and uncomfortable and so utterly wrong that he felt almost light-headed as his free hand clutched at the wall for support.

A screech of approaching sirens caught Edward's attention and he pulled himself flat against the wooden doorframe to his back as his body tensed. All too soon, an ambulance flew past; its blue flashing lights screaming an emergency as the sirens and lights quickly grew less intrusive with each passing moment.

Pushing off the door, Edward turned once more to see if Jonathan were still crouched over his victim but his eyes widened in surprise as he was greeted with an empty space. The body lay perfectly still, sightless eyes still staring up at the unbroken moon, but the murderer was nowhere to be found. Glancing around, he crept closer to the corpse, assuming that Jonathan had continued his path out of the alleyway onto the opposing street.

A gasp tore free of Edward's throat as he approached the corner, only to find his body slammed into the alleyway wall, the damp stone there making him see stars for a moment as his face found itself pressed against the hard surface by an unseen force.

"Unhand me at once you phili-"

"Did you enjoy the show, little voyeur?"

The question wrapped around his ears like a lovers kiss, forcing a renewed warmth through his frame as Edward recognised the honeyed, yet mocking, tones.

"Jonathan." Edward muttered, confirming his suspicions as he tilted his head free of the wall for a moment before finding it slammed back there by a rough hand. "Let me go."

"Why? You've been watching me, since I left the apartment I suspect, so why would I let you go now when you've been so desperate for my attention?"

Unable to deny the accusation even as his cock stirred within his boxers once more, Edward instead settled on open indignation.

"Desperate? For your attention? Don't flatter yourself, Cra-"

His words dissolved into a moan as Jonathan's thin hand pushed roughly against his overly-sensitive cock, snaking its way up to fiddle with his zip as he made quick work of the button holding Edward's slacks together.

A flush broke across Edward's skin. He wanted this. Wanted Jonathan to discover his little secret. His hidden shame.

"Well, well, well." Jonathan deadpanned, his stoic words coated with an undeniable heat as his fingers dipped within Edward's boxers. In less than a moment, he had discovered Edward's little mess, two of his willow digits pulling free with what little remained of Edward's spend coating the tips of them. "What a filthy beast you are. Did you come before or after I killed him?"

Shame and embarrassment roiling within his frame, Edward kept his mouth shut as a fresh flush spread across his cheeks. It was not the answer Jonathan wanted and Edward found himself flipped in place, his back now pressing against the filthy alleyway as Jonathan caged his body neatly.

"Before or after? Let's leave no secrets between lovers, even if one of those lovers is a indecent boy with no shame."

"After." Edward muttered, pinned by Jonathan's sharp gaze as his head tilted messily against the stone wall for support. "Just after you killed him."

Nodding his understanding, Jonathan pressed his groin against Edward's hip and Edward bit back a soft groan at the noticeable hardness there. His head felt light, arousal and shame swirling in such a way that his breath shuddered its way free of his chest.

"I provided a show for you," Jonathan smirked, his lips pulling into a sadistic smirk, "and now I think I'm owed my own little performance."

Thin fingers pushed against Edward's lips and he opened them obediently, the familiar taste of Jonathan's fingers mixed with the slight salted tang of his own release quick to coat his tongue. His teeth nipped at the edge of the long digits and Edward found himself rewarded with a stunted growl for his efforts.

"On your knees, Edward. The night is still young and the Scarecrow demands his due."

Regarldess how aroused he were, the pompous words still elicited a roll of Edward's eyes even as he crouched down to his haunches. A performance, sure, but like hell he was kneeling on his $800 suit in this piss-stained alleyway.

[oxygen-stealer]

Scriddler fic recommendations!!!

Stay (2017) by iammemyself

Rating: General

49,873 words, 11/11 chapters (discontinued)

Arkhamverse

After Arkham Knight, Jonathan and Edward move to Canada together, where the full weight of Edward's grief crashes down on the both of them.

This fic is fucking miserable in the best way possible. It feels so grey and depressing like almost the entire time even with its ups and downs. Things get better, but it's fucking hard. Legit among my favorite fics. Also Jon's so obscenely old here I love it lmfao. (There's also a Stay (2016) I haven't actually looked at, might be a prequel or smthn idk)

I'm With You by nonbinaryspock

Rating: Mature

50,684 words, 35/35 chapters

Jonathan and Edward rekindle their somewhat messy relationship from their college years. Things are still a bit messy but they've at least got some hindsight.

Hella angsty, they're both so horribly dysfunctional <3 (specifically Jonathan will just say/think the absolute wildest shit and then just go on like that's normal). I really just love how visceral their emotions can be.

Runs In The Family by ChaoticMimzy

Rating: Mature

8,703 words, 5/5 chapters

Edward's father dies and he goes to his funeral (solely to be there for his sister, mind you) where he grapples with past trauma and catholic guilt.

Very very rogues podcast coded (highest compliment). It's mostly Edward-centric and doesn't focus on the scriddler too much but it's still worth a read. Edward's rage towards his childhood circumstances is so potent and agonizing I love it so much. He should get to kill god a little bit imo

(More below)

Let me play you a song on my violin by batmanforeverlol

Rating: Teen

7,206 words, 1/1 chapters

Ghost AU. Edward is a retired criminal turned private investigator who finds himself running through a cemetery, where he meets a man playing a violin.

Ngl I cried super hard reading this but it's also one of my absolute favorites. Why would you write this? Why would you hurt me in this way? (It's really sweet but also really fucking sad, you should read it. Share my pain)

Terminal by iammemyself, promethea (Aerosol)

Rating: General

7,073 words, 1/1 chapters

Edward gets brain cancer again, this time the Lazarus pits aren't gonna help him.

As you could imagine, this fic is just sad from start to finish. I cried so fucking much reading it its not even funny.

He Just Likes The Rush by Human_Resourccs

Rating: General

16,072 words, 9/9 chapters

Jonathan's thrill-seeking brings him some interesting company. (Or, as I know it: the fic where a fucking spider lives in Jonathan's hair for months and Edward still lets him touch him. If that's not love I don't know what is)

Sapiophile by XavIniesta685

Rating: Mature

17,529 words, 3/3 chapters

The Moon Is Not Made Of Cheese by Stry_Shttu

Jonathan has given up in every sense and is about to leave Gotham until a series of events change his mind. A lot of "falling in love within a day" fics can feel kinda forced but this one flows really naturally.

Rating: Teen

7,820 words, 1/1 chapters

Arkhamverse

Edward is lonely, Jonathan goes to see him while also being Jason Todd's really lame dad. A good mix of sweet and silly.

The Boy With The Thorn In His Side by 30PacketsofKetchup

Rating: Teen

21,542 words, 8/? chapters (this fic hasn't been updated in like 5 years so be ready for that specific brand of agony)

Teenager AU. Jonathan meets the mildly annoying new boy in town and they bond.

I looove this fic so much I'm absolutely heartbroken that it wasn't ever finished. Idk the vibes are nice and I love how flustered young Jon gets when he's got a crush.

South of Hell by nonbinaryspock

Rating: Teen

14,194 words, 35/35 chapters

Teenager AU. No one in their awful little town likes Edward or Jonathan, but they've at least got eachother. Very southern gothic.

Exit Wounds by nonbinaryspock

Rating: Teen

18,066 words, 38/38 chapters

Demon/supernatural AU. Edward is a private investor and his demon ex-boyfriend suddenly shows up after 5 years in need of a place to stay. Edward is thoroughly unimpressed.

I'm in love with this AU big time, it's got some pretty neat world building. I also love how distinctive the characterizations here are. BAH I'm not great at describing but it's very angsty and good.

Frighteningly Unprofessional by bookynerdgoblin

Rating: Mature

28,412 words, 11/11 chapters

One of Jonathan's students knows about his unethical experiments, however instead of reporting him, he offers to help in exchange for his partnership. Things spiral from there. Edward is purposefully being super obvious and Jonathan talks to his cat like a person.

Words by scarecrowv

Rating: General

4,651 words, 1/1 chapters

Edward's daughter keeps calling Jon "mama" and he has no idea how to handle it, aka psychology professor Dr Jonathan Crane talks to a 2 year old like an adult.

A Case Study in Step-Parenting by Ifthinkerwrites

Rating: General

16,053 words, 5/5 chapters

Another lil scriddler family fic, Jonathan navigates step-parenthood :)

Sitzfleisch by SproxGrail

Rating: Mature

1,205 words, 1/? chapters

Jonathan is living in Edward's walls and talks about him like a little freak. I need this fic to update again please please please it's so creepy I'm in love with it

Some series to look at as well!

Memoryverse by Enigmatic_Robin

Rating: General

15,393 words, 11 works

A bit more of a psychological horror/thriller than a romance. Jonathan is manipulating Edward into complete dependency. It seems easy while Edward is in love with him, but he'd better watch out for when that veil slips.

Scriddler Family AU by Enigmatic_Robin

Rating: General

17,722 words, 9 works

Scarecrow and Riddler end up raising Stephanie Brown and Tim Drake. And all the shenanigans that come with that.

Love Me Dead by lymongrab

Rating: Explicit

25,624 words, 6 works

Kinda just a nice progression in Jonathan and Edward's relationship with some added spice here and there. Mostly pretty sweet.

Arkhamverse by iammemyself

Rating: General

354,608 words, 28 works

In which Edward and Jonathan's relationship is a bit complicated, but Edward is also a robot dad!!

(Everything from here is nsfw centric)

This section would be longer but i actually found out the person who wrote some nsfw fics i really liked was actually a proshipper weirdo so I'm not including those. Why can't people be normal

Kiss The Go-Goat by korereapers

Rating: Explicit

5,203 words, 1/1 chapters

Demon AU. Edward summons a demon and gets a little carried away

Shout out to this fic for getting me into Ghost, the only band I ever listen to now lmfao. Anyway I'm a big sucker for anything involving monster/demon/creature!Jon

Connected by korereapers

Rating: Explicit

6,458 words, 1/1 chapters

A hookup gets wayyy more emotional than expected. But, y'know, they're not in love or anything. Right?

Comfort by curiouscorvid (prometheanTactician)

Rating: Explicit

4,866 words, 1/1 chapters

Mad Max AU. Edward is traversing the wasteland, where he finds and helps a desperate escapee.

I've found that Mad Max AUs are always so sad no matter what even though the movie itself is kinda silly lmfao.

worldly pleasures by leetheshark

Rating: Explicit

3,227 words, 1/1 chapters

Arkhamverse

Jonathan doesn't really know how to handle any sensation that isn't painful.

[rilakkumariddler]

RAAAWW HELLO I LOVE YOUR ART HELLO HELLO.... the dynamic you present in scriddler is sooo 🙏 regarding the drawing of Ed smelling Jon, on the other side, im pretty sure Edward smells like sweat and that Riddler suit STINKS, but Jonathan actually is so into that, so... may i request Jonathan smelling the Riddler suit and thinking about Edward and how he wants him so bad? Or maybe Jon watching Edward sweating and getting all red?

WAHHH tysm ^_^^^ their freaky little relationship is sooo dear to me. I don’t think Edward has washed his jacket since he bought it so I KNOOWW that shit reeks!!! It’s okay!!! It’s okay!!! jon likes his bf to be stinky

[rhouxl]

He slowly shambled his way through the spilled stack of notebooks, taking care to not step on anything that would send him tumbling down, the artificial light of the basement slowly spilling in a line onto his legs as he managed to draw to the last few steps. That’s where he heard it.

A soft voice, reminiscent of how he had spoken to him when they had first met, though carrying the same informal name that he had come to call him over the years.

“... Jon?”

— Edward's Eccentricities, Ch. 1, by @toacho

[scleracentipede]

POV: you go to the weird cowboy bar your partner keeps mentioning and actually have a lovely time

(another snapshot into my au because I’m consumed by it)

[cern1cal0]

💋