so, totally feel free to ignore this since i know you’re on a gravity falls kick, but seeing all the posts about puppy play/bondage/bdsm really got me thinking about a certain green man from gotham…
just. being the riddler’s pretty little puppy-brained obsession. no need to think or worry anymore, you just need to sit pretty with your collar in the section of his hideout just for the two of you (god forbid one of his henchmen come in- then they get a reminder why he’s considered to be such a terrifying rogue), and let the smartest man in gotham do allllll the thinking for you!
Even better if he asks for Jervis’ help in this endeavor <3 The Hatter really is so helpful, generously offering his expertise in engineering to craft a specialized collar just for you.
You really were too smart for your own good, dearest. That's exactly why Edward loved you so much, why you had originally caught his eye. Your beautiful mind was so captivating! Ah, and yet, you really were too in your own head. You shouldn't have to expend any unnecessary energy worrying your sweet little head about things The Riddler was more equipped to handle. He would take care of you and do all the hard work now.
Oh, you put up a good fight, of course! Edward hadn't expected any less from you. But the moment he managed to slip that collar around your neck, green and purple and lined with question marks and a dog tag that showed everyone who you belonged to, you relaxed so sweetly for him. He was going to become addicted to that dazed, obedient look in your eyes.
You were his sweet, silly little puppy. Obedient and unquestioning and without worry. He kept you locked up in a special section of his hideaway just for you, with a soft bed and toys and food bowls and anything your simple little doggy heart desired. He even had a workbench there with a dog bed underneath by his feet so he could work and spend quality time with you simultaneously.
Of course, he wouldn't keep you in such a state forever. Or, well, so he says. He did love your mind and how intelligent you were, regardless of if you believed him or not, but at the same time…
The power he had over you, the knowledge that he was in complete control over you and the ability to take care of you as you deserved to be… Well, let's just say that the amount of time he keeps you collared up and brainless seems to extend longer and longer after every break from it. It won't be long until he's certain that this is the only way to keep you completely safe, happy, and his, forever.
Here are some doodles I did of Eddie and The Detective-- made my Detective blonde because I'm currently in the process of trying to go blonde XD but yeah, this is a really great fanfiction.
I'm sure by now most Arkham Riddler fans have already heard of this one, but if you haven't I highly recommend giving this fic a read.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
This fic is currently ongoing, but there are plenty of chapters to read, and the author writes pretty lengthy chapters, which helps when they go a while without updating. Plus, they also have a lot of one-shots based around this fic, so there's a lot of content to consume!
The author's Tumblr @caesariawritesstuff
To give a basic outline of the premise for this fic (for those who haven't read it for some reason). The story takes place roughly 2 years after the events of Arkham Knight. Edward Nigma is conformed and sent to work at the GCPD Cyber Crimes Unit as part of his parole. The reader is a Detective who is assigned to be his handler-- that's all I'll say because there's a lot of crazy stuff that happens (and is continuing to happen) and I'd just say go and read the fic for yourself. Seriously, it's a good read.
Headcanons for being Barbara Gordon’s sibling and a batkid
Barbara Gordon x sibling!reader
warnings: death/violence
a/n: this is all over the place n from memory oopies (i did like all timeline not just AK EEK)
prompt: anonymous: “Hey there can I request Arlyam Knight headcannons for being Barabera’s twin sibling who is a bat-person (think that's correct lol)?”
your sister's dream to become a vigilante was daunting
on one hand, a quest to become one of the greats—like the batman—was enticing
on the other hand, you were terrified where it'd lead you and barbara
she was stubborn and so very determined to succeed, and you knew she'd need you by her side despite her assurances you didn't have to do this for her
but the first time you two put on those suits...you knew it was meant for you
"do i look good?" -you, striking a pose
"room for improvement" -barbara
"oh come on!" -you
"why don't you ask dad?" -barbara
"hahah, very funny. with my luck he'd lock me up and throw away the key just so i wouldn't have the option to put myself in danger" -you
"yeah, but i'd break you out" -barbara
"i'll hold you to that when this inevitably goes sideways" -you
after a lot of effort to better your city the way GCPD could not, and even more effort trying to get batman to accept that you guys were going to be a thorn in his side or great partners, he accepted you as apart of his mission
"thank you, mr. wayne" -you
"thank your sister for hacking into my computers" -bruce
"you what?" -you
"you heard him" -barbara
"you'll need better gear if you're going to be fighting by my side" -bruce
you and your sister geeked out at the idea that you'd been accepted by the batman who you'd just discovered was bruce wayne
the masks were heavy, but you could handle it. this was all you and babs dreamed of, making gotham a better place.
your dad would never approve of this, so every late night you came home and lied about where you were chipped away at your heart a little—but to take some of the bad guys off the board to make his life easier...it was worth it
"you two got in late last night, where'd you go off to? not to those nightclubs, i hope" -jim
"no, dad, we went to a movie" -you
"pretty late movie" -jim
"we got food after" - babs
"really? where's the receipt?" -jim
"come on, dad. you're gonna go all detective on us?" -you
you and barbara felt bad lying to him, but was it wrong if it was fro the right reasons?
sure felt wrong
missions with the batman were anxiety inducing for you, but your sister always put on a brave face
"i still can't get over the fact he's bruce wayne" -you
"wasn't my first guess, that's for sure" -barbara
"i can hear you both on the comms, you know" -bruce
"hi batman" -you
"sorry batman" -babs
"can i trust you both to focus on this mission?" -bruce
"yes batman" -both of u
"you sure about that?" -dick
"shut up, robin" -you
"don't be mean" -babs
"that wasn't mean" -you
it took some adjustment being in the "big leagues" (better suits, teamwork, communication, getting paid) but it made the job better
your dad would have had a heart attack knowing what you were up to, but now that you were out there seeing what your dad put up with, you might have one yourself
"maybe we should convince dad to change career paths" -you
"hah! he'd never give up being a cop" -babs
"i just don't like seeing him at these crime scenes, so close to danger" -you
"you sound like him" -babs
"oh my god, babs! don't say that!" -you, giggling
you didn't like doing missions separately from your sister, you wanted to be there for her—protect her
but she was all for splitting up for efficiency
as the years went by and the missions went on, you both gained your confidence
even if you lost some battles
dick went to blüdhaven, your dad became the police commissioner, jason got recruited, jason...died.
things were hard, but that's what you signed up for. to help others no matter how hard it got
there were lighter days. days you could joke and smile
"so, what's going on between you and tim?" -you
"um, nothing!" -babs
"not nothing! i see the way you look at each other" -you, teasing
"we just work together, y/n! and study together sometimes...but nothing is happening!" -babs
"right, right. so him winking at you on patrol the other night was...nothing?" -you
"i'm not answering anymore of your questions" -babs
borrowing each other's bat-gadgets and bat-suits
"have you seen my cowl?" -babs
"no" -you, wearing it "have you seen my batarangs?"
"no" -babs, hiding them in her pocket
then one day you got a call—jim gordon had been kidnapped by the joker and harley quinn
you, babs, and tim suited up and went to the amusement park, it gave you the creeps
you knew you wouldn't be able to forgive yourself if joker hurt your dad
but barbara...she was so balanced
and tim was...tim
"it's nothing we can't handle, y/n. calm down" -tim
"calm down? don't tell me to calm down. you calm down!" -you
"neither of you are helping" -babs
maybe you didn't like tim because your sister was spending more time with him than you
you never really regained your bearings after jason. there was a short period you felt immortal—it was after dick left and you realized you had made it pretty far. you thought the good guys always won and none of you would ever die. and then the tape of jason was played for you and that fallacy shattered.
calm just wasn't an option anymore
you often called dick to complain when you couldn't complain to babs
"there's always room for another vigilante in blüdhaven" -dick
"don't tempt me" -you
and maybe you would have gone if tragedy didn't strike again
not long after the amusement park incident where you rescued your dad and joker got away, joker showed up at the apartment
you came home first, finding your sister bleeding out on the floor
"barbara! barbara, can you hear me?! it's y/n, i'm here!" -you
after a long few nights in the hospital and some extensive surgeries, it was official. barbara couldn't walk. the bullet hit her spine and paralyzed her from the waist down.
you felt guilty. like you should have been home.
"if i was there, i could have saved her! or it would have been me and she would be okay!" -you
"honey, there's nothing you could have done. i thought the same thing, i know what you're feeling. he was there for me, i put her in that situation" -jim
but he didn't, not really.
you didn't handle it super well at first, trying to do everything for her and she hated it
"stop babying me! i'm going to have to figure out how to do it on my own, so stop trying to do it for me" -babs
you turned to bruce for guidance
"it's not ideal, but it's what we're dealing with now. she needs to find a new purpose and she can't do that when you and your father are standing by waiting to fulfill her every need. drop the guilty act, drop the pity, just be her family" -bruce
you took some time off the vigilantism and stayed with babs—giving her the space she needed
tim came by almost every day to check on her, winning you over a bit with his caring side
maybe he wasn't so bad
barbara started to feel guilty you weren't going "out" anymore, though
so she made you through the power of persuasion
"maybe i would feel better knowing you were out there doing some good" -babs (master manipulator)
you just wanted to see her happy again
and soon she was—once she became oracle
she moved out, took back her independence, and you decided it was time to do the same (despite ur dad freaking out about the empty nest)
"i just miss my kids is all. you two are my world" -jim
"we know, dad. but we wont be far" -jim
"you say that, but don't act like i don't know you've been talking about moving to blüdhaven" -jim
"that's not far, dad" -you
"i would prefer you within my legal jurisdiction" -jim
"noted" -you
you liked your sister as oracle—even if her nagging in your ear became apart of her job
seriously, she could get a little micromanage-y on you sometimes
now that she wasn't fighting with you, turns out she is very worried for your safety out there
and she'd often assign tim to check on you or team with you "just in case"
during the arkham asylum incident, you were in blüdhaven (sorry dad) helping dick with a case—but the moment you heard what happened at the asylum, you were ready to drop everything and run to assist
"no, y/n, stay where you are. nightwing needs you. we'll be fine" -batman
nIgHtWiNg NeEdS yOu he says as he's trapped on arkham island with gotham's most dangerous criminals
you decided that you needed to finish what you started in blüdhaven, and it was a pretty enticing place. more mob stuff, less criminally insane.
"i wouldn't mind a roommate, especially one that can help with the bills" -dick
"i know, i know. it's a big change, dickie" -you
"well, do you prefer the prison breaks at arkham?" -dick
"i'd still help in that situation, i just had plans" -you, looking over a drug den "we gonna take care of these guys or what?"
"i'm gathering intel" -dick
"intel: they have guns and drugs. let's kick their asses" -you
fast forward to the arkham city incident, where you were ready and willing to help there
"babs, can you get me in?" -you
"i'll break the firewalls if you break the actual walls" -babs
"just tell me when" -you
"now's good" -babs
u blew up a service tunnel and with her help, no one was alerted
"oh my god, babs...this place is so eerie. the police department is still standing somehow" -you
"i remember when we had to do our homework there after school. weird that this side of gotham is just ruins now" -barbara
"mr. freeze is in there?" -you
"seems that way" -babs (is literally 50 degrees colder than the rest of gotham)
you acted as bruce's shadow, following up on the things he couldn't tend to as strange's plans continued to develop
this place is a shithole
there were places in the city you didn't have signal, and after several minutes of radio silence, babs would start panicking. you'd been caught, you were hurt, you were trapped, you were killed
all these things went through her head until you popped back up in the comms
"y/n to oracle, come in oracle" -you
"i thought you were dead! where were you?!" -babs
"they have signal jammers everywhere, i hit a deadzone" -you
"don't ever do that again" -babs
"realistically it will probably happen many more times tonight" -you
this night dragged on and on, arkham city was large and full of the worst people in the world
and god forbid you touch a riddler trophy, they electrocute you!!!
"ah ah ah, for the batman and the catwoman only" -riddler over random speakers
"oh, my god. babs can you track him at least so i can kick his ass?" -you
"i would if i could, but he thinks ahead" -babs
"if you loved me you'd try harder" -you
"don't even go there" -babs
"i'm just saying, if i could beat him up it would make my night and you wont even try" -you
you liked to tease her over the comms now that she wasn't within arms reach (she couldn't hit u when u annoyed her too much)
the wrap up of arkham city was...satisfying. rest in hell joker
lowkey wish u paralyzed him first
you would dance on his grave if given the chance
oh you were making jokes about him dying all night u didnt care who got mad u were being "insensitive" u were glad that clown was gone!!!!
that brings us to the arkham knight incident!
you were told you would have halloween off -_- nope!
you and babs called your dad together to convince him you'd evacuated, but in reality you were suited up doing crowd control and babs was at the clocktower overseeing it all
"let me know if something more pressing comes up" -you
"you mean less boring?" -babs
"don't put words in my mouth" -you (she was right)
gotham was a big city to cover, but you were just glas to get a break from panessa studios. being cooped up doing experiments was excruciating
bruce took the heavy duty mission of tracking down scarecrow and arkham knight, but you were trying to make sure gang wars and other crazies didn't burn the city down
everyone underestimates you until you start kicking everyone's asses
while you were busy on a different island, barbara was being kidnapped by the militia
"we have to find her! we have to save her!" -you
"i'm trying, y/n! you're too close to this, go to the clocktower, help me find her by being oracle for now" -bruce
"no, i need to be out there looking for her" -you
"y/n, you have the skills needed to operate the oracle systems. i need an oracle. i need you to get in your right mind and help the way i need, or you are benched." -bruce
"why cant alfred do it?" -you
"because i asked you" -bruce "and don't tell tim, do you understand?"
you were going stir crazy in the clocktower and all you wanted was to call your dad and break down into tears about how he was right and you and her should have listened to him
but now you had to focus and assist batman in his search for your sister
and as you scrubbed through security footage and pieced things together, you started to feel hopeless. there wasn't any word from her captors yet. what did they want?
and then bruce's broken voice came over the comms
"she's gone, y/n. i failed her" -bruce
you jumped from your seat
"where are you?! where is she?!" -you
"i'm sorry. it's too late" -bruce
you said to hell with being oracle and left the tower—it was compromised anyways
you went back in the field and bashed some heads trying to figure out where the knight is, who he is, what he wants, why he would do this
and scarecrow would pay. everyone would
"don't tell tim yet, please. i need him focused" -bruce
"and i need my sister back" -you
for once, bruce asked you to stay by his side—worried by what you could do without his supervision
you reluctantly agreed, figuring that the arkham knight was so obsessed with him, you may have a better chance finding him at his side
and hell, was it miserable with him
he seemed distracted, but not about barbara. about something else
and you saw a glint of green in his blue eyes
it didn't take a genius to realize what was happening to him
"the other jokers get that look in their eyes, bruce. tell me it's not happening to you too" -you
"no, it's just a symptom from the fear toxin i was exposed to. it should wear off soon" -bruce
something told you he wasn't being fully honest, but you didn't quite care at that moment
"we need to tell your father about barbara" -bruce
"no! no...it'll kill him. he's already under so much pressure right now with everything going on. we can't hurt him right now" -you
"he has a right to know" -bruce
when bruce told jim, it was chaos. and then he paused for a moment and realized you were out there too
"y/n? y/n, you've been lying to me this whole time and now your sister is gone because you two couldn't just listen to your old man for once! get out of gotham like you promised me you would!" -jim, in tears
he hugged you and bruce watched as you broke down. he would have dismissed you right away for jim's sake, but you had unfinished business.
"i'm sorry dad, i have to bring these men down for her" -you
angry with bruce for what he just did to your father, you spli off to do some detective work, trying to calm yourself down from the interaction
bruce went to panessa studios to handle the joker situation, but while you were investigating the AK, he showed up
"long time no see" -arkham knight
"screw you, freak. you here to kill me?" -you
"kill you? no, i'm here to save you. from him" -arkham knight
"you killed barbara gordon, why?" -you
"i didn't kill your sister, y/n. she's alive and well in a safehouse" -AK
"how do you know my name?" -you "and batman saw her die, don't play with me"
"batman's under the influence of a nasty dose of fear toxin, he's not seeing clearly" -ak "and as for how i know you, well, we'll save that for later"
"to hell with that and to hell with you, if my sister is still alive then prove it!" -you
arkham knight pulled up live feed of barbara sitting in a cell, activating the microphone so you could talk
"babs? babs, it's me! are you okay?" -you
"jason! it's jason, he's the arkham knight!" -babs
as you tried to understand what she said, arkham knight knocked you out and took you to her
when you came back to, you were in the cell with babs stripped of all of your bat-gear
captive or not, you were just glad to see your sister was alive. you rushed to hug her tightly
"dad thinks you're dead, he knows who i am" -you "bruce was having a pity party"
you stopped for a moment and turned on your detective mode scanner on your cowl, checking to make sure babs was real
"well, at least i know you aren't a clayface. you have bones" -you, pausing again "how is jason alive?"
"i don't know, but he's different. mad, confused, he's not making any sense" -babs
"i think i'm making perfect sense" -jason, throwing some snacks into the cell "thought you might be hungry"
"jason, you know this isn't right. let me out so i can keep protecting gotham" -you
"nah, i need all you pawns off the board. just me and batman remaining" -jason "well, i guess i can't compare you two to pawns, you're much more useful. knights, maybe"
it was hours of captivity trying to figure jason out, wishing you could feel relief knowing it was him under that mask but unable to find that silver lining
and then bruce and jim arrived, and there you were in the middle of a family affair
you, dad, babs, bruce, and jason 20 stories below. what had brought you all here to this moment
then babs was thrown off the building. was this all just a cruel joke? you finally had hope she'd be okay just to watch her fall to her death
no, bruce would save her
but you couldn't save your dad
"go, y/n! get out of here!" -jim
you managed to escape through the underground system, hoping you'd be able to find jason
you regrouped at gcpd, hugging your sister as tight as you possibly could
"we're not out of the woods yet, y/n" -babs
"can we just pretend for a minute that we are?" -you
"is tim okay?" -babs
"...yeah...he's been at panessa all night" -you, hiding the fact he was definitely still locked up and had no idea barbara was alive
as the night went on and bruce fought to get gordon back and save the city, dick called you
"heard about the mishap at blüdhaven pd" -you "harley didn't kick your ass too hard, did she?"
"didn't you get held captive by the arkham knight for several hours?" -dick
"oh, so you're not gonna believe who that guy is. like, it's really bad" -you
tonight was the night dick convinced you to leave gotham
after your confession and recounting what happened tonight while you brought down penguin's weapons caches
"gotham needs me...my dad and my sister need me" -you
"it's not like you're moving across the country and won't ever see them again, you're just getting some distance, y/n/n. this city will be just fine with one less vigilante" -dick
"after tonight, i don't know how i'll leave babs' side" - you
"you know you want to" -dick
you did. you just couldnt admit it while bruce was still working to save jim
and soon e would, as you saw his face broadcasted all over gotham
"y/n to oracle, you seeing this?" -you
"yeah and i forgot how to breathe for a minute" -babs
"didn't know you could forget anything" -you
"y/n...he's going to take his mask off" -babs
and that bruce did
and the world learned who the batman was
and you all felt...compromised
jim gordon made it out alive and bruce, with all lose ends tied up, blew up wayne manor
fuck it, you're moving to blüdhaven
when the dust finally settled, you started packing
"i'm happy to see you do something for yourself, y/n" -babs
"really? i thought you'd be mad i was leaving..." -you
"no! never, y/n. i want you to be happy, wherever that may be" -babs
"think dad will see it the same way?" -you
"give it time" -babs, chuckling "he's definitely still in shock finding out about our...alter egos"
"what's all this talk about him running fro mayor now?" -you
"he's broadening his horizons" -babs
"and how are things with tim?" -you
"i think he's going to propose" -babs
"no way! already?? oh, my god. i'm gonna be in your wedding right??" -you
"well, duh!" -babs, pausing "i think blüdhaven is going to be good for you. and if it's not...try metropolis? or central city. oh! star city! i bet green arrow could use a vigilante partner"
"i'm sure nightwing will be a fine vigilante partner, just like old times" -you
Content: female reader, established relationship: reader and Eddie r married, violence and graphic imagery, mentions of Eddie’s childhood trauma and abuse, unhealthy relationship, arguing, obsession, stalking, like. one adult joke, some personal hcs for Riddler but overall tried to keep it accurate to Arkhamverse, he’s not a great guy
kinda long fic under cut~
Preface: First public DC fic wooo~ I love Arkhamverse Riddler. He seems so incredibly lonely and he handles it SO poorly and he’s pathetic and petty and I love him. This is how Riddler should be, in my heart. Been losing my mind imagining how terrible it is to fall in love and date in Gotham. One moment your life is normal. The next your man is getting acid thrown in his face, or making you answer his riddles three, or turning himself into a giant bat
Starts before Arkham Knight, after City
This was intended to be a Drama Comedy so hopefully the jokes come off right lol~
Recommended listening: Feed My Ego by Mickey Darling
-Fifth Love-
Eddie’s first love was Batman; though he wouldn’t call it love and he’d be furious if you ever even suggested he had an unhealthy obsession with the vigilante. But it’s true. Eddie talks about Batman more than anything else. And the Bat is the motivation for everything he does, such as his second love: the silly little game of tag he’d been playing with the aforementioned Caped Crusader for the past few years.
Even that awful half a year when you were locked up in Arkham City, labeled guilty by your association with The Riddler, he kept himself entertained by inconveniencing the vigilante. You lost count of how many of those silly little trophies you’ve made for your husband; you gave up keeping track after two hundred, but you must’ve made at least twice as many. And he didn’t even thank you! He just gathered them up and set about tucking them in all the nooks and crannies he could find in that awful place.
He was always making deals with unsavory sorts to do his ridiculous dirty work. But it was better than him wandering around those streets himself. So you swallowed your complaints, only out of fear of the alternative.
His third love was riddles, any and all. Eddie had some sort of riddle for you, every single day, without fail, since you married him ten years ago. He’s never repeated a riddle even once. You’re tired of his word games; you grew tired after the first year of hearing them. He’ll now accept your surrender and tell you the answer as long as you give him one reasonable guess, and you can move on with your day, but back when you were newlyweds he would make you guess until he finally got frustrated and unhappily revealed the answer to you.
His fourth was engineering. Eddie really was a genius, though he frequently overestimated himself. He could probably build whatever he put his mind to. His current interest has been elaborate obstacle course-like puzzles for his beloved vigilante. Every day this past month he’s been loading up his van with tools and gears and giant cords. Though it’s a waste of precious time to unload all his gear by himself; one of the reasons why he’s started bringing his fifth love along to these little construction projects.
“God, Eddie, I almost had hope when you said we were going to the casino tonight,” you remark, not surprised at all when instead he maneuvered the conspicuous white van around the back entrance into the elevator leading beneath the casino.
Actually, now that you thought about it, you were pretty sure Eddie was banned for life from every casino in Gotham since he found a way to cheat the machines, but eventually got caught in the act and then quite literally thrown out.
He taps his fingers impatiently against the wheel as you descend into the sewers of Gotham on a rickety old elevator Eddie previously attempted to decorate with a few garish green LED lights. “My Dear, you know I think gambling is a waste of time. It’s much too easy to rig the machines and cards in my favor. What’s even the point?”
‘My Dear’. Eddie calls you that all the time now, his favorite pet name for you. He says it so often, soon he may think it’s my real name, you muse to yourself, though it isn’t That funny, even just in your head.
“No point, I guess,” you reply disinterestedly, resting your chin on your hand, debating with yourself if it was worth it tonight to express your full displeasure over the past ten years of nonsense he’s put you through.
Eddie, ever the empath, senses you’re a bit unhappy about something.
“What?” he’s already defensive, seeming to genuinely not understand why you’re already upset at him. “Are we fighting again? Already, Dearie? Have I offended you so greatly just with my presence? Or do you not like my driving? You can drive us home if you like,” his tone is edged, increasing in speed and volume. If this went on he’d begin rambling angrily at you, again.
Oh Eddie. For a guy so smart, he sure couldn’t read another person, even his wife of a decade, to save his life.
“I didn’t say that,” you sigh. The elevator reaches the bottom with a disconcerting clang. The doors slide open shakily, slowly, and for the second time this week you find yourself back in the sewer to haul around buckets of green paint and wheelbarrows full of strange devices for your eccentric husband.
“But we’ve…you’ve been doing this for a while now, Eddie. And, well I’m sure you know, but…” you find yourself trailing off when he looks at you, his brow furrowed in frustration that you can’t ever understand each other. His green eyes are so much…wilder than they used to be, really looking at him and seeing him like this makes it difficult to find your words, even when your request isn’t unreasonable: “A few months from now will mark our tenth anniversary. We should do something special…maybe get out of Gotham for a bit, go somewhere sunny. Go somewhere…relaxing. We could use it.”
He cuts the engine. “Of course I know about the anniversary!” he practically shouts at you, though you can’t imagine why; you specifically said he’d remember it. “And I’m working on something very special for it. Something very special for both of us that requires me to stay in Gotham and requires all my focus and attention. I don’t need or want to relax, what I need is more hours in the day!”
If it wouldn’t piss him off further, if he wouldn’t immediately take your honesty as an attack, you would be more blunt with him. Still. It would be nice to tell him his lifestyle is killing him. You wanted nothing to do with his stupid one-sided rivalry with the Batman, in fact, the man had been rather reasonable to you given the nonsense Eddie kept causing and dragging you into.
It broke your heart to feel like you were betraying Eddie in any way…but Batman promised mercy for you, for Eddie, if you would help him. Just help him save the hostages, at least.
Oh God. The hostages. The silly puzzles and riddles were one thing to put up with, but it was totally different when people’s lives were on the line.
Batman kept his word and didn’t reveal you as the informant. And Eddie needed help. You both faced justice, for a time, but he never stayed contained for very long, and where would he be without his ‘dear assistant’ as he called you when he freed you.
Eddie’s health had been steadily on the decline for a while, but Arkham City opened your eyes to how far your sweetheart was willing to go, and how far his grip on reality had gone.
“I’m not doing this again. I don’t wanna be involved in this. Just take me home.”
“What? But we JUST got he-”
“TAKE ME HOME!” he flinches when you yell at him.
Even now, when you’re so mad at him, it always feels bad; he never quite understands what he did, and you don’t know how to communicate it to him.
He mutters that this is ridiculous and you’re SO unreasonable, but he’s not used to you actually being mad enough to yell at him, so he does as he’s told; he turns the key and starts up the engine, u-turning so you can go back the way you came.
You both avoid looking at each other on the awkward ride back up, but even in your peripheral vision, his silhouette in the glaring green light makes your chest tighten.
He’s lost so much weight these past few years. He’s always been a bit slight, but back when you first met him his shoulders and chest were broader, he stood straight, he was more composed and took better care of himself.
You’ve tried. You’ve always tried to be consistent with insisting he eats and gets at least a decent amount of sleep, but he hated being nagged. So then you tried wordlessly leaving him meals while he busied himself with his desk projects, but they were left untouched half the time.
You’ve tried begging, bargaining, reasoning, but Eddie? He’s always too ‘busy’ to eat. He insists he’s fine. But he keeps losing weight.
He’s stopped shaving, and you think it’s partly because he’s recently developed a tremor that comes and goes in his right hand, and every time you ask about it he claims he doesn’t have a tremor at all and that you’re imagining things.
Just thinking about him makes you cry. You swipe a tear from your cheek as he drives you home in this dreary, awful city. You’d do anything to leave Gotham. You’d do anything to take Eddie with you. But you’re always following him…why won’t he follow you? What would it take?
“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” you murmur, leaning against the door.
“Yes, well, that was rather uncalled for. If you didn’t want to come you should’ve just said so…” he mutters this last portion to himself, checking his watch as he drives: “what a waste of time…so ridiculous.”
Despite all the dirty money he made with his cyber crimes, the two of you always stayed in small, inconspicuous lodgings. He stops outside your apartment, not even putting the van into park, intending to drive off as soon as you were on the street. Upset about the wasted time? Upset over you? Probably some combination of the two…he speeds off as soon as you shut the door on your way out, almost certainly complaining to himself about the incident his entire way back to the casino sewer elevator.
Alright.
Fine.
He spends so much time alone anyways…maybe he’ll cool off a bit by himself. You still feel a bit guilty about letting him go back alone while you’re both angry, but he is the most stubborn man you know. Trying to make amends so soon wouldn’t work anyways, and he clearly really wanted to get to work on…whatever he was working on so fervently this time around.
The apartment you and Eddie have been hiding out in was in a sorry state, much like the rest of Gotham. You climbed the narrow staircase, the darkness bleached in cheap, flickering white light.
Armed with the key, you fought with your second floor apartment door, having to jiggle the key and the handle in unison at just the right angle to finally get the lock to turn and the door to open. You shoulder your way in, and drag a hand down your face, taking in your miserable apartment.
Smells stale. Smells like home sweet home.
There wasn’t much point opening the blinds; Gotham was always cloudy. So you flip the light switch. With some effort, an unflattering yellow light eventually flickers on, illuminating your small, but cluttered living arrangement.
Partly finished contraptions lined nearly every wall. You no longer messed with them after you accidentally sliced a finger while trying to move one over. Eddie chided you excessively for touching his stuff, but his brow was creased with worry and he hovered over you helplessly, watching over you while you tended to the injury yourself in the sink.
Even then you didn’t yell at him for leaving such a dangerous mechanism right in front of the bathroom door. No wonder he was surprised today when you screamed at him. You never used to be so short with him; evidently Eddie wasn’t the only one deteriorating with time.
It was only six in the evening. But Eddie’s strange schedule hurt yours more often than not. Sleeping while upset was probably bad for you, but you’re too tired to care.
It’s safest to stare at your feet while navigating the apartment. You’re able to avoid stubbing your toe on any of his painful metal babies and step into your bedroom, turning out the living room light with the other light switch now that you’ve safely traversed The Riddler’s Deadliest Death Maze™. Heh. You’re kinda like Batman. Maybe that’s why he liked me so much, you joke to yourself, and then felt a little miserable thinking about how your husband concerned himself more with a man he didn’t even know personally significantly more than you.
Your bedroom is not much safer. If there was one thing you could say with certainty about the Riddler, it was that he was thorough. Curse you, Riddler, you’ve even booby trapped my bedroom! You mad genius! you think to yourself as you navigate over something much too frighteningly sharp to just be laying casually on your floor.
Mad.
You knew better than anyone that Eddie hated being called mad. If he could read my mind, he might not forgive me. “‘Mad’ implies either mental illness or derangement, of which I suffer from neither!”he would say. You apologize in your head for thinking about calling Eddie ‘mad’, even though it was followed by ‘genius’.
Eddie’s home desk is pushed up against the wall by the small, frequently unused window in your small, frequently unused bedroom…when WAS the last time you and Eddie slept together?? In just a ‘lay down and fall asleep next to each other’ kind of way??
One time that immediately came to mind was when he passed out at his desk a little over a month ago from over-exhaustion, and you had managed to drag him into bed, thankfully in close proximity, but with his weight loss you probably could’ve hauled him further if you really wanted to.
He thrashed in his sleep, his head on your lap, muttering about shadows and bats, his voice cracking into a loud cry of terror whenever his father hunted him down and finally caught him in his dreams.
You placed your hand on his damp forehead. He was hot with fever. Oh Eddie oh Eddie…why does he push himself so hard? Why does he get himself sick? This all could’ve been avoided if he stopped snooping around in the filth under Gotham, if he’d just adopted a somewhat consistent sleep cycle and ate at least one meal a day. Oh Eddie…he was in his forties now, but a part of him would always be that sad little boy in desperate need of his father’s approval, only to be constantly met with disappointment and, more often than not, physical pain.
Oh Eddie. You stayed up and watched over him and ran your fingers through his unwashed hair and traced soothing circles on his back until his nightmares waned to a mild terror, and you couldn’t manage to stay awake any longer. You fell asleep propped up by a makeshift pillow chair, Eddie clinging to your legs and whispering in his dreams into the sheets. Did that count? You supposed not. After all, neither of you had fallen asleep on purpose.
You flop into the middle of your bed, the dark green sheets smelling faintly of your perfume and nothing else. You could lay wherever and however you wanted since Eddie rarely used it, and this evening you spread your limbs out as far as possible to take over as much room as you can, taking in the long, deep breath you so badly needed after yet another failed interaction with him.
You scream once. A loud wail, filled with regret. It hurt your throat, but felt good. You didn’t bother throwing a pillow over your face either. Screams often went ignored in Gotham; the only one likely to have reacted would’ve been Batman, and only if he happened to be nearby. You smile at how ironic that would be. You, screaming out all your frustration with the Riddler in one pathetic howl, unintentionally inviting Batman to come crashing through the window right into the very man’s civilian hideout. The petty part of you sort of wished he would, the devoted lover in you worried if Eddie could even survive another return to prison.
You hear your phone vibrating on the end table. You reach for it lazily. If it’s Eddie you’re not in a rush to talk. And all your friends had stopped talking to you a while ago. They all (wisely) gradually moved out of Gotham, and got fed up with your terrible taste in men and your stubborn refusal to listen whenever they suggested perhaps dating the Riddler wouldn’t stay fun in the long run.
Unknown number.
You answer anyways.
“Am I speaking to Mrs. Nigma?”
The voice is slow, deliberate and refined, intelligent, and yet the mere sound of it feels like enormous maggots slowly eating their way into your brain. A bead of sweat begins forming on your brow. You try to find your words. You don’t know this voice, but he somehow knows you.
“Why?! Who are you, what do you want?!” Eddie’s line of work has led you to be in contact with unsavory sorts seeking blackmail material or delivering threats. With how long you’ve been dealing with that sort of thing, usually you knew how to stay calm. But something about this particular voice is already sending you into a panic. His tone gives you the paranoid feeling he knows exactly where you are, and he is seeking very specific answers from you.
“Ah, you must be her. Good evening, Mrs. Nigma, I hope I’m not disturbing you. Is Edward nearby? I must speak to him, but I’ve been unable to get ahold of him.” You know better than to unintentionally tell this voice you’re alone right now by confirming he’s not with you.
“He’s in the middle of something right now.” God, Eddie…what was he involved in NOW?! Why didn’t he answer?! You imagine he must’ve pettily muted his phone, since you’re the only one who calls him on the regular anyways. That, or he left it in his van while he’s working…you try not to groan into the phone, adjusting to the awful feeling of phantom maggots in your brain. “But I suppose I can leave a message for you, Mr…?”
“Doctor, ma’am. Dr. Jonathan Crane. Please have Mr. Nigma call me back at the earliest convenience, I have an important business proposition for him, and I would hate for him to miss it.”
It was almost comical; he didn’t change his tone at all and yet you could sense every ounce of the threat behind his words. Maybe because the name alone was the threat. Jonathan Crane. The Scarecrow. Miraculously back from the dead, and asking for Edward Nigma…
“Will you do that for me, ma’am?” You hadn’t realized how long you’ve been quiet for until his voice pulls you back to the present.
“Yes!” you stammer out unintentionally. Fear made people do such foolish things…Eddie shouldn’t be getting involved. What could Scarecrow possibly need him for?! He would certainly only be using him, but you’re evidently already in his line of sight, and he was going to contact him one way or another, so it might as well be through you.
“Excellent. Gaining his cooperation through you would certainly be the most convenient method. Thank you for your time, Mrs. Nigma. Have a pleasant evening.”
Now you know it’s not just the paralyzing paranoia talking…that one was Definitely a threat. The maggots in your brain don’t fade even when he hangs up, but the heavy presence in your room lifts away now that the threat has pretended to pass.
Dealing with the occasional thug, even dangerous ones like Penguin’s or Two-Face’s gangs were one thing…but Scarecrow wasn’t motivated by petty things like money or fame. He was a Genuine reaper of chaos, a supervillain, dangerous, with nothing that could buy him when he had his mind set on a goal.
You scream a second time tonight; frustrated, angry, regretful, tossing a pillow from the bed as hard as you could into the wall. It’s not satisfying enough. For a moment you consider tossing the lamp as well, before thinking better of it once your hands wrap around its base. And for the second time tonight a small part of you wishes Batman really were like some sort of ethereal guardian angel and would swoop in from above to save you.
No, no, no. If you tried to contact Batman, Scarecrow would certainly find out about it. And Eddie might find out this time, too. And even if you somehow flew under both their radars, running to the Bat for help would almost certainly result in you and Eddie back behind bars.
Alright…first things first. You needed to calm down.
You start yourself a warm shower, hoping the heat might loosen the phantom maggots Scarecrow had driven into your skull, and sink the goosebumps that had formed all along your arms as soon as that voice hit your ear.
…
How long have you been shaking?
-
Author’s note: maybe a series…? I mostly wanna write chapter two just to write about Two-Face and Scarecrow meeting Eddie and reader in person lol
Omg, I saw the nsfw stuff for Arkhamverse Jervis and... listen I agree. Could I request him for general "domestic life" if that makes sense? (I'm I'm suckered for fluff)
I'm so glad someone agrees!!!! I love Arkhamverse Jervis oh my god. Absolutely I will write some fluff for him! Other people might think BTAS is the soft one, but this is MY UwU Hatter. Also angst in my fluff post? Its more likely than you think. I'll do my best to keep it as light as possible. I have more thoughts but I'm going to cut myself off. Otherwise I'll never post it.
- Though he'd be alright having a job, he'd also love to be your house-husband. He likes things to be a certain way in the house so he ends up doing most of it himself anyways (or if he is still using the mind control devices then his drones do it but to his specifications).
-He might not be able to cook anything but sweets very well, but he certainly will try to make you something edible for dinner. If you tell him your favorite dish, he will practice that till its perfect.
-If he is in a good mood when doing chores, he will hum.
-When you come home, he is so happy to see you! He'll want to give you a hug and might cry in your arms if he is feeling particularly vulnerable.
- " Oh my dear I'm so glad you came back! I knew you would. You just had to..."
-He'd then kiss you like he had been waiting a thousand years for you to do it again. His hands would either be in your hair or grasping your head so you wouldn't be able to pull away till he is satisfied.
-After that, he'd want you to tell him all about your day over a cup of tea. Try not to talk too highly of your male coworkers, he is a very jealous man.
-If you come home later than you originally said, he has only two responses: complete devastation or silent anger. As long as you apologize, he'll stop crying or start speaking with you again, but he'll make you promise that you won't do it again. You would do well to
-Jervis craves your attention. Whether as just your boyfriend or husband, he constantly wants to be around you when you are home. He prefers to cuddle with you, but just sitting close enough where he can keep an eye on you is enough to calm his paranoia.
-Expect "I love you" texts quite often and be ready to respond because he needs the reassurance that you still care.
-He tries very hard to make things perfect. It makes him quite frustrated sometimes that plans have to change due to work or if one of you forget to make a reservation. Though its completely because, he doesn't want to disappoint you. He loves you so much and truly believes you deserve only the best.
- If you want to have kids, he'd be so happy to! Whether they are yours by blood or by adoption he is so excited to raise a child with you. Though he really isn't prepared for the responsibility, everything is for his Alice so he will try! In a way, its another way of making sure you won't ever want to leave him so its mostly a boon. Just understand that he will absolutely jealous of the child when you give them attention instead of him.
-Similarly, he will get jealous of pets as well so it might be best for you to find your animal friends a new home.
Tim has something to get done, though you have other ideas.
Word Count: 2580
Warnings: N/A, straight fluff with an innuendo or two. Not proof read. I never proof read anything [my bad].
Requested: Yes! [And this is an Arkhamverse Tim Drake! Very important.]
Cingulomania (n.) a strong desire to hold a person in your arms.
.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.
“Tim, please go faster.”
“Y/N...”
“Please, Tim. I-”
“I’ll go as fast as I want.”
“Tim- oh god!”
You bury your face down into your hands, back hunched over. “Please!”
“I just need to find it!” Tim cries back. “Just give me a second!”
“You’ve had seven minutes of seconds!”
“There!” Tim plucks the puzzle piece up in two fingers and holds it out in front of you. His brows are high, eyes wide with thin lips as if to ferally say, ‘Aha! Look at this!’. “I’ve found it!”
“Well put it in!” you exclaim expectantly.
Tim practically slams the missing piece onto the table, right in the middle of a group of other cardboard squiggles. With this missing part finally filled in, Tim’s first quadrant of the puzzle is complete. Finally.
“Tim,” you say, folding your arms on the table. “That took forever.”
“Well- I-I-I-” Tim stutters, trying to find his words as his hands flippantly fly around the air. “I mean-” he gives you an expectant look, hands going still. He does not complete his sentiment. “You know?”
“No, Tim. I don’t know.” You narrow your eyes, suppressing the smile that threatens to dance at the corner of your lips. “You spend ten minutes looking for one piece, and I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m sorry,” Tim sighs. His hands, once splaying about the air, fall back into his lap under the table. His broad shoulders become shy as he looks up at you through dark lashes. “I like puzzles with you.”
The smile wins its battle atop your face. Your right hand extends out overtop the green, folding table to Tim. It caresses his face, his cheek, encouraging him to melt into your palm. He does, still looking at you in an almost pleading way. Such a sweet boy, your partner. You can’t remember him ever looking at Barbara this way, but you can remember Barbara looking at Dick this way. It’s love. You’re more secure in that thought than any other.
“You need to shave again,” you decide to remind him, gesturing to his hair.
Tim started shaving his head not long into assuming the Robin mantle. To keep him on his toes and prepared, he went into cage fighting. At first, you hadn’t liked it. That was when you were just friends. But then it turned out to be just fine. Tim could handle himself. By the time your relationship was official, you had stopped your worrying... for the most part.
Tim looks away. In your hand, you feel his cheek grow hot. “I know... And some people spend days finding puzzle pieces, for the record.”
Your eyes glance upwards in thought, then roll back down. “You don’t think you really have to prove how smart you are to me, do you?”
“No,” Tim looks back at you. “Yes. Sometimes.”
“Tim.”
“Fine! I don’t have to prove anything to you.” Tim’s face softens. “...Is that what you wanted me to say?”
“Tim.”
“We can start over. I feel like you want me to start over.”
A thumb reaches out to stroke his skin, encouraging him to further press his face into the palm. Tim does so easily. You can feel how he shifts into it, whether he realizes it or not.
Then the eye contact sets in. You knew you were making it before, but it becomes firm. Tim’s big eyes hold yours intensely for a few seconds before he nuzzles his cheek even further into your palm. His own reaches up to keep yours in place against him, the other clasping soft but serious around your arm for further insurance. Then Tim’s neck crooks to the side, his lips pursing into a kiss against your open hand.
He repeats the kiss once, twice, three more times, each more loving and promising than the last. Tim keeps his eyes on yours the entire time, though they do occasionally flicker as he breathes through his nose. That’s the thing about Tim. He has these moments where he shows love in ways that could not possibly be fake, and he’s not ashamed to admit it or show it.
“I still don’t know the answer to your question,” Tim admits finally, dampening the mood in an almost comical way.
“I know how smart you are, Tim,” you promise. “Obviously. I obviously know how smart you are.”
Tim plants one more kiss on your hand, which now feels sensitive to the feeling of his lips in a way that makes your nerves run wild. “Do you think Batman knows?”
“Please don’t ask me about a grown man in an armored furry suit right now.”
Tim raises an eyebrow. This action always draws your attention to his straight nose. “What am I then?”
“The furries… bird.”
Tim narrows his eyes. You draw your hand away, burying your nose back into the puzzle on the table in fake deep interest. “Good heavens, would you look at all this stuff we have to do.”
Tim hums and guffaws. “Nice slip away.”
.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.
Sometimes, you don’t see Tim for days.
It’s not personal. Even if you fought, Tim would be in your apartment. It’s because of his job.
Tim Drake is Batman’s Robin. You’ve known this since before the relationship began, though it’s not unlikely for you to still be shocked when you catch him sneaking out the apartment window in red chest plated armor.
“Uh… it’s an emergency,” Tim would offer, like a question. “Kiss for good luck?”
Most times you’d kiss him, whether it was his forehead or his cheek or his lips (which was what Tim preferred). Sometimes you’d just roll your eyes and shoo him out.
And sometimes, which was slowly becoming a lot of the time, Tim would come home angry. It could’ve been after a night or a week or however long, and he would slump down on your couch after sneaking back in. And then it was pretty much the same every time.
“He never lets me do anything,” Tim would explain, exhausted and defeated. “He just makes me stay in the cave while he goes out and do the things that actually matters. I know I could make a difference if he’d just let me!”
You’d ask, “Do you want comfort, or solutions?”
He either shrugs or mumbles an answer. For today’s purposes, let’s say he shrugs.
And then you’d continue. “Tim, I don’t think Wayne is actually trying to screw you. I don’t think he means it like that. I mean… we’ve all seen Jason’s suit in the cave-”
Tim’s eyes flicker.
“-and so does he. Maybe he’s just trying to keep you safe.”
His head dips, mask still clad around his eyes.
“Tim,” your hand wraps around his. “You wouldn’t let me be Robin if you thought something would happen to me, would you?”
“No,” your partner would answer almost immediately. “But-”
“But I’m not Wayne’s Robin and I’m not you, I know.” Your thumb strokes over Tim’s fingers reassuringly. “But I think that’s how Bruce thinks. And if not then… then he’s stupid.”
Tim’s brows shoot up in a ‘really?’ look. “Batman? Stupid?”
Your lips flick upwards in an almost smirk. “The stupidest. I promise, you’re smarter than him or anybody else there.”
Tim’s lips part for a few seconds. They’re chapped and detailed tonight. “Now you’re just being flattering.”
“I’m serious,” you assure. “You are the smartest, most intelligent Robin there ever has been or ever will be. We all know it. Just give it time.”
But that’s when Tim’s on the job and snuck back into your place. This is now, when you’re the one doing the sneaking.
.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.
You knew about the Batcave, because you’ve been there before. A year and a half ago maybe, you’d assisted Batman in a serial killer case, as a young vigilante yourself. At some point, the great bat taken off his cowl in the cave at the exact second you’d turned around. It didn’t take much to swear you to secrecy. Your lips were sealed, no questions asked.
That was when Tim was seeing Barbara. You really hadn’t payed much attention to the relationship back then- it wasn’t like either of them were your best friends. All you really noticed was that they cared about each other a lot, and that they seemed prone to passive aggression.
Once, on patrol in the drizzling rain, you’d propped yourself on top a rooftop overlooking Gotham’s diner. Two voices had gained your attention, and when you looked, it was a young guy with a shaved head, and a ginger girl in a wheelchair.
You wouldn’t have been nosy, but once you’re there, it’s hard to leave. Tim seemed angry as well as genuinely sad and upset. Barbara was the one who was defensive and angry.
They yelled and raised their voices, but it’s such a common occurrence in Gotham nobody was paying any mind.
Tim was jealous of Dick Grayson because Barbara had done something or was doing something with him that made Tim feel insecure. He wanted reassurance and change. Barbara argued back that it was nothing and that if Tim was so insecure and crazy, he shouldn’t even be going out with her. She said it didn’t make any logical sense as to why her and Dick couldn’t be as close as they were. Tim told her that he loved her, and he didn’t want to lose her. Then Barbara left.
They broke up not long after. Barbara unsurprisingly went to stay with Dick in Bludhaven for an unannounced amount of time. So, Batman asked you to fill in as Oracle. Tim became your friend, even when Barbara returned to Gotham and her job. And a few months in, it was you who Tim started to healthily yearn for.
Thus, a relationship. You never made Tim feel like he was in competition with anybody. Tim always made sure you were secure in his feelings, whether through words or actions. He used all the love languages for you.
That’s why you’re here in the Batcave now. Because of love and appreciation, and because Tim deserves it just for a second.
You find him inside almost immediately. His back is hunched to you, showing off his long black cape and wide, strong shoulders. The chair that goes with the bench he works over is pushed to the side. Of course it is. It’s not unusual for Tim to prefer to stand for more focus when he works than to sit.
He doesn’t seem to have heard you come in. If he did, he probably assumes it’s someone else. After all, you don’t make a lot of unexpected visits to the cave. Today, you’re just here for him.
Keeping yourself quiet, you straighten out your appearance before taking steps towards him. Your toes are light on the floor. The Cave is so dark, there’s not even a shadow for you to be casting. You draw fifteen feet away, to ten, to five.
Finally, your fingers stretch out. They graze over the back of his neck gently. Tim tenses before recognizing your fingertips.
“Ah, I see they’re just letting anybody in here,” Tim drawls. You can feel the vibrations his deep voice sends through his body as your hand trails down his back.
“Mm, if only there was a Robin to guard the door more carefully.”
Both your limbs stretch out to your lover. They hook around his middle. You wish it were his bare skin, but it’s the scarlet kevlar and metal that protects it instead. Your front presses against Tim’s back so you can feel the warmth radiating through his cape, and so you can let your chin fall onto his shoulder. Now your cheeks are pressed together ever so lightly.
“Poor Robin,” you mutter to him before your eyes fall to the desk.
Tim’s large bare hands fiddle around with an R shaped throwing star. The edges look so sharp, they rival needles. It’s a shock that it hasn’t poked into his fingertips and drawn blood.
Besides that, little screws and knick knacks line the surface of the desk. Every so often, Tim abandons the throwing star to pick up a cloth to wipe it down, or a small blade to sharpen the metal further.
“Upgrading your gear?” you ask, quietly. “You don’t think it’s sharp enough?”
“Could be sharper,” Tim utters back, simply.
You somehow press your body closer into Tim’s back. The muscles inside roll with the slightest of movements, thus creating a barrage of sparks that apparently run through the both of you.
“Sharp enough to poke?” Then your brow quirks. “You gonna poke me with something, Timmy?”
“You’re distracting me,” he observes lowly, almost annoyed. Almost.
“I am not.” You watch as Tim handles the sharp star with ease. “Looks like you’re doing just fine.”
He snickers.
“I love you, Tim.”
The little dings of metal fill the air.
You plant an open mouthed kiss on his neck, below Tim Drake’s ear. “Most intelligent man in the world… my pretty boy.”
Tim jumps so hard, the desk shakes with a bump. The throwing star clatters sharply. The cherry on top is the sharp breath your partner sucks in. You don’t let go of him however, despite his twisting to attempt to be face to face.
“Why?” Tim continues his twisting and turning, before setting both palms on the table to still himself and breathe.
“Why what?”
“You know what. You’re trying to distract me.”
“I just wanted to see you,” you promise. Your lips press several more pecks along his skin, some threw the fabric of his uniform. “You deserve love too.”
Tim’s voice comes out as almost a low growl. “I’m going to get you back for this, trust me.”
You smile into the next kiss. “I love you so much, Tim… You smell nice today.”
“I smell like sweat,” Tim replies. He picks up the throwing star once more and the cloth to make it shine.
“Same stance,” you utter into his skin.
“You’re still such a distraction.”
You give him a loving squeeze. Your face moves from atop his shoulder to his shoulder blade, your cheek smushed sleepily. It’s the most comfortable place in the world.
“I love you, smartest man in the world.”
Tim puts his gadget down. His own arms bend as his hands slip over your own around his abdomen. He sinks into you, still standing.
“I love you too. More, actually.”
.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.
This was a request. I enjoyed doing something lighthearted and finally writing for someone in the Batman: Arkham games. I haven’t played Arkham Knight in a while and I mostly just remember Jason, so I hope I got this rendition of Tim right. I also apologize for the gif, I couldn’t find any good ones so I made one myself. Deepest apologies.
Imagine confessing to Joker that, sometimes, you do feel a bit crazy. He'd been wheedling it out of you for hours now, continuously and obviously guiding you to the idea that there had to be something special about you to catch his eye. Something about you that stuck out like a sore thumb, and not just to him. Something innate about you that drew him toward you.
“There has to be something, my dear,” Joker had said. “I don't exactly attract the most normal company.”
You tried noncommittal answers at first. Really, the only person who'd know why he'd fallen for you (so he claimed) would be him. And hadn't he claimed to know everything about you already? God only knew how he'd gotten your information, but it didn't surprise you considering the man holding you captive. Even still, The Joker kept pestering you for your thoughts. Your mind was just so fascinating to him.
So, you relented, even if just to appease him. You watched his grin widen, and the smile reached his eyes as they crinkled in delight. The clown hanging onto every word.
Sometimes, you did feel crazy. Like the world didn't really make sense. Everyone else had a set of instructions on how to navigate the world that you never got. How did everybody else know how to start a conversation without a shock of anxiety washing over them? How did others have the ability to get up out of bed when you couldn't find the strength to? How did anybody find consistent meaning and purpose in their lives.
Even when you tried to pretend to be like them, it fell apart so quickly. It was so hard to keep on top of things. So hard to stay organized and stable and motivated. And you were so aware of the act you were putting on. So was everybody else, you were sure of it. You were sure they could tell, as if they thought of you as something not quite human and just something pretending to be. Something to tolerate until it crawled back to where it came from, another failed attempt to infiltrate their ranks.
You didn't even know what made you stand out to The Joker of all people - especially for anything outside of a murder attempt. You purposefully tried not to stand out. It made it harder to detect how different you were so long as you kept your emotions and thoughts close to your chest. No chance for embarrassment if no one ever got close enough to embarrass you again.
Joker raised a hand to stop you, resting his hand on your shoulder. The green of his eyes held surprising softness before flashing with mischief.
“How about we give those fools something to really be scared of?” The Clown flashed a grin, raising a small contraption in his hands.
“What the Hell is that?” You blurted out.
The metal thing was the same size and shape of a small ball, painted an acidic green and electric purple. Wiring covered the thing, either wrapped around the outside or sprouting up like weeds from within. A small LED display screen was centered in the middle, left blank.
“A bomb,” Joker grinned. “I figured it'd be thematically appropriate.”
“Get that thing away from me!”
“Oh, come now, it's not even armed.”
As if to prove his point, Joker tossed the bomb aside, letting it roll across the floor. He paused for a ment, raising a hand to his chin in thought. Then, he seemed to light up, snapping his fingers.
“Oh, of course, you'd want to deal with ‘em up close and personal!” Then, with a flourish, Joker pulled a gun from seemingly out of nowhere. He threw his head back as a chorus of laughter erupted from within.
“Stop!” You spluttered, backing away. “I don't want to hurt anyone!”
Joker stayed put and simply blinked, brows furrowing. He tilted his head. “Why?”
“Because- because you can't just hurt people! It's wrong.”
“No, it's what they told you is wrong,” The Clown's hands balled into fists. “They force you to play by their rules, then punish you for losing at a game you're not designed to win. They wear you down to the bone and know you won't fight back, so they get to walk all over you."
“That's not true.”
“Don't lie to yourself, Darling. I'm saying this all to help you. I want to help you finally fight back. Everything you've gone through has all been leading to this moment.”
“I can't,” You held your ground. “I won't.”
The Clown stared you down. His eyes held an emotion you couldn't quote register. He wasn't frowning exactly, but he certainly wasn't smiling.
You nearly jumped when Joker suddenly crossed the room. The sound of his footsteps mirrored the thundering of your own heartbeat. It muffled all thoughts as electric panic ripped through your veins and left you petrified in place. Not like you could escape, anyway.
You tried to calm your breathing, but hot, panting breaths kept escaping you, chest rising and falling erratically. You could hardly keep yourself composed enough to look him in the eye. And when you did, somehow it was worse than expected. The expression on his face and look in his eyes wasn't one of murderous intent. Not one of rage. Hell, he didn't even look disappointed.
No. His expression was one of pity.
He swept you into an embrace. One arm curled around your back, hand still holding his pistol. You could feel the cold of the metal pressing against the small of your back. Another hand came up to push your head closer to his chest.
Joker lamented. “Oh, my poor little maniac. It's so sad to see what they've done to you. If only I had saved you sooner.”
You didn't respond, hoping the excuse of being smothered into his jacket would be enough for him to not demand a reply. You felt the slow rise of Joker's chest pressing against you, then sank back as he exhaled a sigh. A gloved hand petted at your head soothingly.
“You're just like Bats, you know,” he said. “These barriers you put up for yourselves are so small, but you give them so much power. And I just don't understand why.”
You paused, giving yourself time to think before mumbling into the fabric of his jacket, “Because it's the right thing to do.”
When you glanced up at him, the look of condescension on the Clown's face was nearly enough to forgo any ideas of self-preservation or pacifism. Nearly. The last thing you'd want to do is prove him right.
“They're never going to see you as normal, you know that, right?” He pressed. “You'll never really be one of them. Like a square peg trying to squeeze itself into a round hole. I don't see why you're so caught up in silly things like morality when it clearly hasn't helped you yet. It certainly doesn't seem like a concern for any of them.”
You didn't want to talk about this anymore. You didn't want to think anymore. You just wanted to find some cold comfort in the embrace of another.
A pair of lips pressed against the crown of your head. You flinched in his hold, burying yourself further into his grasp. Maybe you could just disappear.
“It's so sad to see you sabotage your own potential like this,” The Joker continued, voice taking on a lighter tone. “But it's okay. I'm here to take care of you. And I'll keep taking care of you until you can become who you were always meant to be. Because I love you, I really do.”
Yeah, right.
Still, you wished he made it harder to believe otherwise.
