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aslightaddity · 7 months

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Dappy!verse Riddler lore

Born Eduardo Enigmar to Franklin Enigmar and Julia Osorio, in a small city in the east coast. Together they were a happy enough family.

He was a quiet kid and often was left to manage himself and often was used to console and comfort his parents. He was terrified of disobeying the rules as his mother would refuse to talk to him or look after him for days at a time when he would misbehave.

At school, He was always talented, well behaved, and was placed in advanced courses or pushed up by a few grades. He didn’t have many friends as he was seen as weird and creepy by the other kids.

He loved detectives, his favorite books as a child being Sherlock Holmes. He’d often investigate small mundane things for fun, find out what keeps getting into the trash, whose moving in next-door, and one day he decided to investigate where his father went for his frequent business trips.

He followed Franklin to another town and watched as he rejoined a family. A mother and son he hadn’t seen before but Franklin seemed to know. Before he was caught he rushed himself home and told his mother.

His mother was angry with him for running off and coming back with a crazy story. She refused to believe him.

Shortly after the birth of his younger sister, Malory who was almost 15 years younger than him, his parent’s marriage became rocky and the truth finally came out that Franklin had a second family.

Throughout the divorce proceedings Ed tried his best to be supportive and helpful to his mother but was only met with anger, she blamed him for it all. He had dropped out of his senior year in high school to take care of his mother and Malory. His mother would always shout and treat him with distain as she only saw Franklin when she looked at him, to the point where she tried to get Malory to never look at him.

After a few years, when Malory began school, one petty fight between Ed and his mother boiled over into him leaving without a way for them to contact him.

He traveled around, couch surfing, and never being able to hold a steady job. It was slim as to which stores would hire him due to his lack of a diploma. After awhile he ended up in Gotham, where he not only got forged documents but he also changed his name. From Eduardo Enigmar to Edward Nygma to finally distance himself from his family and the man that ruined his childhood.

In Gotham he became a PI, unable to be employed by the GCPD due to his lack of proper training, a rather successful one at that, due to his affordability mainly. Despite being an upstanding investigator the GCPD officers he worked with never liked him, often poking fun at him or messing with evidence.

He was hired to investigate a murder one day, the problem however being that, the murder wasn’t reported to the police before the case was given to him. So when the police were tipped off there was no other possible suspect but him, there was a jarring lack of evidence to prove his innocence.

What ‘incriminating’ evidence was found was his forged documents, a name change, and a manic denial. After a psychological evaluation he was deemed criminally insane and sentenced to Arkham.

The brutal treatment in Arkham (electroshock therapy and misperscribed medicine) and the trauma of being framed finally culminated with his anger and left him catatonic for months and prone to hallucinations. However, In an outburst he attacked and seriously injured a guard and himself causing him to need a mobility aid once it healed. After the attack he was resigned to solitary.

There his hallucinations only got worse and He realized people were always going to blame him for things gone wrong and only see evil in him. So he decided to let go on trying to be the good person he had been trying to be for so many years. He realized that no one but himself cared about his justice.

As he was used to investigation and puzzle solving, escaping from the asylum was rather easy. (He was quite proud that he was able to switch his place and his aloof guard’s)

However once he was out it was trickier, he couldn’t return to his apartment or office as the leases had broken during his incarceration. After wandering through the labyrinth that were the Gotham streets he sunk into the iceberg lounge for a place to sleep.

He managed to lay low and go unnoticed, thanks to the help of two of the women who worked there (Nina and Diedre) for a few days before Oswald took notice of him.

Their first interaction included Oswald blackmailing Ed with his estranged family and Ed threatening Oswald’s life. Despite the rocky start Ed soon proved himself to Oswald to be usefully and trustworthy (through many heists and investigations to rivals) and Oswald proved himself to be caring to Ed, something he had not been accustomed, and they became closer. Both have confided in the other about their pasts and trust no one more than the other.

With Oswald’s influence and the help and support of Nina and Diedre he became more and more bold with his crimes and eventually became The riddler we know and love

#edward nygma #batman villians #Dappy!verse #au lore #lore dump #the riddler #echo and query #Q&E #Oswald Cobblepot #riddlebird #general tw #technically an ace attorney crossover #edward nigma

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filmsinthedarkofdawn · 4 months

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val kilmer deserves so much respect for delivering the Mr E scene so seriously. i think about this weekly.

#antonia talks #val kilmer #batman forever #i was in a gc once with someone who had that as their screenname #and he said only like 2 other people ever got that??#MYSTERY MR E. NIGMA EDWARD NYGMA

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fawrishfish · 2 years

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Playing with that AI art thing

S’ really cool.

At first I just put two face cause I wanted to see the variations of him(my favorite is the middle one), but then I noticed people were doing weird stuff so I did 2 also.

#ai generated #dall e mini #batman #two face #harvey dent #the joker #the riddler #edward nigma #backyard bees have the greatest knees

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darthnostra · 2 years

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Hello old friends. This is my final update as TMBTR. I have finally found peace and happiness in my life and self! I am now engaged to a woman who I am fully in love with, as well as finally retired my 13 year run as The Riddler. I was proud to have portrayed my version for you all for 3 years, plus the many I did before then. I wish you all the best of life, love and so much more. I will miss all of you, and I will always remember you :) Take care my old friends! -TMBTR (Edward-E-Nigma)

Congratulations!! That’s such lovely news I’m so glad you’re happy! Your blog was really such a pillar of the riddler community (and for me personally); thank you for all the wonderful riddles you gave us. All the best for the future, I’m sure you’ll be very happy 💚

#asks #Edward e Nigma #the riddler #edward nygma #edward nigma #riddler

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decaying-words · 2 months

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Lapdog

All chapters Edward Nigma x Reader • 18+ Explicit • 4.4k words TW & tags: Pet play, spit play, oral sex, leg humping AO3 • All my stories

"You are still here", he notes in quasi disbelief, an unreadable expression on his face. He must have been expecting that I had left hours ago, I am sure, and yet I have no explanation to give, not even to myself. Why did I stay here, I wonder, waiting patiently for him to come back home and comfort my raw nerves, like a lover would; yet a lover I am not. Not quite anyway.

Lapdog

Painted hands of a similarly stained clock move painfully slowly, the face glaring at me mockingly. The night is cruel in its loneliness, progressing at an agonizing pace and taunting my uninteresting tasks; collecting the misplaced tools with unnecessary care and caution, gathering the wandering paper notes and organizing them in a neat pile that I know will be thoroughly demolished in an infantile desire to illustrate my incompetence and ignorance, and, finally, removing the comical amount of empty coffee mugs abandoned on various and, at times, frankly bizarre and unexpected places.

Ever since my last fruitless experiment that ended in a copious string of creative insults resembling a degrading rosary in his ridiculing tone, the Riddler does not let me forge new projects, not until I “find the required brain cells to not waste his most precious time”, as he said. What little frustration and heartache I felt in my demotion died in a strangled whimper under his uninterested gaze, interrupting any protest I might have by demanding to leave the premises immediately. That time, I spent my sleepless night crying heavy tears, fingers grabbing my hair and tugging until my scalp felt sore.

The Riddler is absent tonight, and there is only so much to do once my mediocre tasks done. Pacing around the warehouse, my light footsteps echo in the green inferno; hand crafted machineries engulfed in a toxic hue stare at me with profound limpness, buzzing ominously in the otherwise aphonic place. Crudely painted symbols, equations and riddles adorn the fatigued floors and, more curiously, the impossibly tall walls. My interested gaze following the cryptic logorrhea ornamenting the area, my mind wanders in places I do not belong to.

I have always wondered what Edward felt during one of these manic episodes, of which I’ve witnessed quite a few times before, always quietly and with empathy, furiously writing incomprehensible thoughts, mysterious threats and other obscure formulas; did it feel like a lifeline at the time, cautiously grounding him when his mind grew foggy ?

I have never doubted for an instant that underneath the intricate layers of his great intelligence was a gravely sick man; beyond the burning pride and arrogance in his demeanor is hiding the weak ghost of a deeply confused man, a man profoundly afraid of the glacial emptiness of neglect, who at times struggles to recognize even himself. It is cathartic for him, I believe, when he frantically scribbles his thoughts, face perverted in anguish, eyes wide open akin to an animal, skin glistening in sweat; entire body aquiver as if terrified of forgetting who he is beyond the Riddler. Of course, he never notices my balmy gaze on him when I catch a glimpse of his broken soul; nor does he know of my intimate desire to heal him. He would find it inappropriate, I am sure, grotesque even. Foolish girl.

He did catch my gaze tonight, however, sharply dressed up for an important meeting with his peers, one I am not invited to, obviously –why would I be? He looks like a different man entirely when he abandons his filth covered shirt, sweat caked beater and stained cargo pants; his demeanor metamorphosed also, standing straight like a bow, chest swelling proudly, his gloved hands flattening his decorated tie. His tailored suit fits him beautifully, the color matching the green bowler hat that is tucked underneath his arm.

Edward is handsome, the most handsome man I have ever seen, and while his sunken cheeks and fatigued eyes are the only remainders of his declining mental state, he conceals his insecurities with a renewed, and perhaps slightly fabricated, confidence. The crimson tip of his tongue darts past his lips in the way it always does when he’s lost in his thoughts, and my heart opens and sings inappropriate songs that flush my cheeks a ruby tint.

This is when his eyes lay on me, cocking an amused brow at my flustered face, silently expecting a flattering comment, though he would never voice it. My mouth opens and closes, carefully picking my words so as to not upset him. You look magnificent, I confess; he seems pleased, a toothy grin spreading on his glowing face. Naively, I wish I could come with him, the insinuation of proximity, emotional or otherwise, public and absurd; the childish dream of being introduced as his assistant – his lover, a little voice in my head whispers.

You know, you remind me of a dog, is what he says; the words are meant to humiliate, a demeaning inflection in his voice, though there is no bite to them. I do not mind them; in fact, I find myself agreeing with him, smiling at him tenderly, face flushed. Edward cocks a surprised brow, as if not expecting this reaction, honest and quasi vulgar . He exhales a chuckle, a subtle twinkle in his eyes, pupils dilating slightly. I recognize this gaze, filled with a still unfamiliar arousal; he looked at me in a similar manner the last time we were intimate, when I lapped his body with a burning hunger until he came undone on my face, eventually fleeing the scene as if ashamed of his own desires. We haven’t talked about this event since, nor the one preceding it, a painful habit of his I’m afraid.

Edward shakes his head, the tip of his tongue licking his chapped lips, thinking of something indecent, I believe. To my great dismay, he will not act on these thoughts, instead putting on his bowler hat and smirking at me, bidding me goodnight, leaving me to my menial tasks.

Hours pass and undesired thoughts pile and overflow in my bored mind, cruel and anxiety inducing. I wonder, wholeheartedly embarrassed, if someone else will collect the fruits of his short-lived desire, if this will mark the end, then, of what did not even have the time to mature in this closed space. Inappropriate jealousy turns to dread and sorrow as I curl in an emotional ball, slumped in the worn-out couch, tears growing in front of my glassy eyes.

Despite the light tremor of my bottom lip and the cruel knot building in my closed throat, I remain still with the perfect inertia of a corpse, mind turning absolutely blank, drained and hopeless, as if I ceased to exist the moment Edward left; and perhaps it is the case, the grandiose emptiness inside of me begging for him to come back.

Suddenly, the mechanical noises reverberating in the metallic Hell become inescapable, spiteful and intolerable; the aggressive lights turn caustic, loud and vicious; all I can hear are the agonizing thoughts, the barbarous internal monologue, chest heaving as my breathing turns erratic, broken sobs strangling in my throat, body aquiver with what seems like a fatal panic attack. This place, once perceived as an embracing and loving cocoon morphs grotesquely into a diabolic pit for which I feel only hatred and disgust. My tortured mind screams in horror, heart beating furiously in my chest, and as I feel the crushing weight of time passing, I wonder when will Edward come back, and why did he leave me alone in the first place.

My body jolts in a whimper when I hear the colossal metal doors of the elevator creak, spitting a dusty cloud on the ground as it lands heavily. My weak frame contorts, alert and hopeful, craning my head to stare at the iron cage; I imagine my face being twisted in desperate relief, brow knitted tightly, eyes wide open like a traumatized animal, panting as I emerge laboriously from my panicked state. Edward quirks a brow, a perplexed frown on his closed face, considering me for a minute; he must find me disgraceful, I suppose, viciously gripping the leathery arms of the couch, the flayed expression on my face morphing into one of profound happiness.

Edward reeks of cigarette smoke, a filthy habit that conceals his natural scent. He seems surprised to see me, glancing at the watch on his wrist then at me with a questioning look, yet I offer him no answer. You are still here , he notes in quasi disbelief, an unreadable expression on his face. He must have been expecting that I had left hours ago, I am sure, and yet I have no explanation to give, not even to myself. Why did I stay here, I wonder, waiting patiently for him to come back home and comfort my raw nerves, like a lover would; yet a lover I am not. Not quite anyway.

I swallow meekly, and answer the only way I know how; with a smile, genuine and kind, happiness glowing on my face, while a dumbfounded expression shadows his. Through his round glasses, his eyes contemplate me for an instant, an impossibly green ocean licking the shores of my mind. There is a storm hiding in the horizon, even I can tell, and so I offer him an excuse, sheepishly. I missed you . It is the truth.

His reaction is immediate and what I sense nervous, barking a laugh; not quite cruel, not quite amused, but instead coming from a place of insecurity, disdain and indecision. His expression contorts, pupils dilating enough to obscure the emerald of his irises, and I feel my guts twisting. Carefully putting his bowler hat on the nearest surface, revealing his now slightly sweaty hair, Edward turns his back at me, looking in the distance, gears grinding in his mind. He reaches for his leather gloves next, long fingers fiddling with the pressure buttons, and then stops. He does not remove his gloves.

“You truly are a dog, aren’t you?”

My entire body shivers, a burning pit gnawing at my stomach with confusing feelings, all of them caustic, perverted and exquisite. I mouth aphonic words of which I ignore the intent. There was a playful element in the inflection of his voice, and when he turns his proud silhouette to face me, there is an indecent smile on his face; one that reeks of contempt and desire. I stare at his grandiose form, lips parted and cheeks flushed from a somewhat familiar hunger; he appreciates seeing me so submissive and needy, I am sure, for he tilts his head on the side and grins wider, the question, unanswered, floating in the air still. “Well?”

There is so much left unsaid, so much left for him to create and define as he sees fit, when I realize that he looks at me expecting an answer that comes quickly, as if foolishly obvious, and yet one that sounds like a permission. “Maybe I am.”

Edward bites his bottom lip frankly, doing a particularly poor job at suppressing his wolfish smile; his gaze holds the power of a storm, breathing heavily through his flared nostrils. When he walks in my direction, each one of his steps sends a spasm to my cunt, shamefully awake and interested, until he stands in front of me, my eyes at the level of his stomach, the memory of the coarse hair hidden under his neatly tucked shirt making me salivate.

“Oh, I know you are. With how easily and quickly you were to drop on your knees, indulging in rather vulgar activities with this obscene tongue of yours.”

His voice is low and dark, the tone dripping with disdain and arousal, his words carefully crafted and picked; he takes great pleasure in seeing me squirm on the couch, muffling soft gasps when his eyes look down on me with a carnal appetite. My expression is one of false shame bordering on inappropriate satisfaction, silently confirming my crude desires. Edward’s voice is husky, shivering with an unconcealed, unmistakable thrill when he asks a question laced with all the neglected lust he once buried deeply in the graveyard of his humanity.

“And what does that make me, then?”

He wants to hear it from me . He wants to feel powerful, wants to dominate me. Taking immense pleasure in my submissive nature, breath hitching even more as his darkened gaze drills burning holes in the back of my skull, a delicate vein on his neck throbbing expectantly. Under his perfectly cut suit pants, I am certain he is hard. I hardly recognize the man who ran away from me after his uncontrolled orgasm; I wonder how much of him is still treading carefully, inexperienced and hesitant, discovering his limits, toying with mines. There is nothing less than adoration in my eyes, hoping to give him the silent reassurance and comfort he seems to seek, heart beating frantically in my chest when I mouth the desired words.

The master.

His shoulders twitch in response, a delicate flush tinting his cheeks, flustered, uncomfortable but positively euphoric . Long seconds pass before he emerges from his enchanted inertia, contemplating the possibilities, evaluating his desires; he looks beautiful in this bemused state, getting acquainted with his most intimate cravings. A part of me wants to guide him, encourage him, reassure him that I will not break easily, though I know how quickly his ego can get bruised; instead, I watch him intently, obediently, lips slightly parted. I believe he needs to be treated with patience and care, more than he needs the control; although it might be wishful thinking from a lovesick deviant.

I follow the gesture of his hand immediately as he snaps his finger and points to the ground. Of course. A dog doesn’t sit on the couch. I cannot help but notice the light tremor in his thighs when he takes my place, spreading his legs wide enough that I can crawl and kneel in between them, hands folded on my lap devotedly.

The profound exhalation is probably louder than he expected; as if releasing an unknown tension, his body slumps in the couch, contemplating my weaker position. It takes him a few most necessary seconds to collect himself, towering his frame above mine with the glory and poise of a panther. Flexing his still gloved hands a couple of times, visibly debating his next move, he decides to lay his elbows on his thighs, bringing his hands towards and cupping my face, the tender touch eliciting a needy whimper. Under his delicate and short chuckle, I lean my face against the warm leather, embracing his hold with closed eyes, focusing on the complex sensations, all of them delicious and dripping with liquid desire. His thumb draws circles on my cheek, fingers experimenting with the softness of my flesh for a blissful instant in a quasi silence. Elbows securely laying on his thighs, body slightly lurched, his voice is a whisper, a caress against my face.

“Will you be a good dog for me?”

I nod.

“Will you be loyal to me, will you wag your tail for me?”

I nod more frankly, a rush of blood pumping in my system, tinting my cheeks a delicate shade of rose and making my core throb; my hips jerk once, reflexively, as if every single atom constituting my being was yearning for him. Then, said so softly I almost didn’t hear it despite our close proximity. Good girl.

The strangled sob in my throat comes immediately, a built-up feeling that makes my heart ache and swell as I sink my half-lidded eyes in his, desperately searching for approval, squirming on the ground uncomfortably. His thumb brushes against my parted lips gingerly, the intent clear as I open my mouth wider to invite his gloved digit in the warm cavity. A stifled groan shakes in his throat when he caresses my fleshy gums, teasing my crimson appendage. Greedily, I close my mouth around his thumb and suck crudely, bobbing my head along the length of his digit under his mesmerized and lustful gaze. His languorous hums are quasi pornographic, hissing through his teeth when he forcefully removes his thumb in a wet noise, brutally shoving instead his index and middle fingers inside my welcoming mouth.

The sucking noises I make are obscene and vulgar, licking the trembling leather digits, penetrating eagerly and hungrily the space between them with my appendage. His moans are low and choked, a single strand of hair dropping on his forehead, glasses slightly askew, and oh does he look beautiful with his face distorted with a shameful lust that he is just now allowing himself to discover and explore. I feel his fingers thrust inside my throat in wet gagging noises, a foamy pool of saliva accumulating on my pink lips; I do not miss how his hips buck involuntarily, my hands then reaching for his clothed thighs, muscles tense like a bow. When my fingers brush against the outlines of his hardened bulge, Edward removes his fingers from my mouth in a drenched noise and grabs my face with a renewed vigor, the both of us panting in unison, a lewd blend of labored effort and burning arousal.

“You’re so eager, so… hungry . You would take anything from me.”

His voice is low and coarse, akin to a groan, dangerous and feral, and shooting tremors in my thighs, my sex pulsating as I whimper and nod positively, face flushed and beaming. He chuckles nervously, beautifully , looking down at me before working the inside of his mouth with a clear intent, one that makes me sob and weep, opening my mouth wide and sticking my tongue out expectantly, obediently.

Edward spits a big, heavy glob of saliva on my welcoming tongue, watching me with bewildered eyes when I swallow it greedily before opening my mouth again, excitedly presenting him the glistening cushion of my tongue, eager and prepared. He chokes a flustered chuckle, face flushed with quasi embarrassment, his voice trembling and laced with lust. “Incredible.”

His fingers release the soft skin of my face and migrate to my hair, grabbing it enough to feel held in place but not enough to hurt. His flush spreads from his cheeks to his neck giving him an almost bashful look; I see him work his throat again, collecting as much saliva as he can produce, while I pant under him, squirming on the ground like a starving animal.

When he releases another generous glob of spit that lands perfectly on my tongue, the offering promptly and greedily swallowed, he moans lewdly, emerald eyes clouded by a thick arousal. He pants loudly near my face, his breath smelling of coffee and cigarettes, and I wonder if his lips taste the same, if I will ever be able to know.

My body squirm uncomfortably on the ground, desperately searching for friction, and perhaps even release. My curious dance does not get lost on him, as he smirks at me with a renewed confidence, fingers grabbing and tugging viciously at my hair, eliciting a mean grunt out of my used throat.

“Are you still hungry, pet? Do you want more?” His voice is a taunting snarl, an amused inflection in his tone, and I whine stupidly, unable to move my head still tightly held in his unforgiving grip. He wants an answer, I understand, cocking his head to the side with an exhausted grin; I believe he too wants, needs release.

“Yes, please. More, I want more.”

My scalp is sore when he releases my hair, looking at his gloved hands with a quasi hypnotic interest when they are unbuckling his belt with trembling fingers, quickly untucking his beautiful, perfect cock; the tip angry red, length flushed in a delicate shade of rose, delicious veins rolling under the flesh. Generous beads of glistening precum drip from the glans in an obscene invitation; one I answer with the crude spectacle of my tongue licking the lips of my already open mouth. Before I can even taste his heavenly flesh, I feel his hand grabbing fistfuls of my hair, preventing any further movement. My frustrated whimpers make him bark a cruel laugh then coo at me, taunting me and mocking me. He is taking great pleasure in my vulgar despair; pumping his cock with his free hand, Edward smiles smugly, humming lowly.

“Beg for it.” It’s almost a murmur with how breathy his voice is, panting loudly as if he were the one begging for release really, and I humor him; of course I do, for I want him with a desire I had never felt before, certain I will die if I don’t immediately swallow his cock.

“Please, please I want you, I need you.” A truth, on more levels than one, but I do not believe he can see all the subtleties of this confession when he presses the back of my head, guiding it towards his hardened sex; or when he cries out in pleasure when I take his entire length down my throat, gagging loudly at the sudden, yet delicious pain. I am quick to work my jaw and bob my head up and down his glory; he tastes just as good as I remember, perhaps cleaner than last time. I do not mind. For a little while, he allows me to swallow his shaft, swirling my tongue over the underside of his cock, passionately sucking at his rosy glans, at the measure of his most indecent moans, loud and primal.

A ferocious groan is all the warning I get before I feel his hands at either side of my head, locking it immobile before his hips start thrusting at a punishing pace, fucking my throat mercilessly. I let him use my fleshy hole wholeheartedly, one hand finding purchase on his clothed thigh, gagging and choking every time the glans hits the back of my throat, foamy spit and precum pooling down my chin; a sight he finds most alluring, I believe, as I feel him throb fiercely.

My other hand snakes down my body, unbuttoning my pants, fingers sinking in my wooly curls until I reach my drenched core and my swollen bud. Edward then snarls and releases my assaulted mouth, maneuvering a booted foot to lay it right between my legs, making me straddle the cold hard leather with his shin pressed against my chest.

“Go on then, dog.”

A broken moan dies on my lips, fingers grabbing at his strong thigh, positioning my clothed cunt perfectly right on his boot, the ankle brushing against my swollen clit. His fist is pumping himself earnestly in a crude and wet noise, his breath labored and quasi pained. There is a pang of hesitation in my chest, one quickly erased when I lift my eyes and find his gaze; there is arousal there, and something akin to tenderness.

And then, I start thrusting.

The friction is electric, his body warmth pressed tightly against my core as my hands clench around his thigh. I feel the rough fabric of his pants rubbing against my cunt as I hump his leg, shattered moans and heavy cries echoing in the warehouse. We maintain eye contact, his face red and glistening with a thin veil of sweat while he’s fucking his hand, panting like a feral beast, chest heaving under his now uncomfortably tight shirt; he is beautiful.

My hips rock more earnestly, his shin rubbing against my throbbing clitoris while the buttons and laces of his leather boot bump and stroke my fluttering cunt; the mixed sensations are otherworldly, experimenting with angles and pace until I find the right combination, the right amount of friction, under his entranced gaze. I do not recognize my voice when I sob stupidly, my cunt clenching and tensing as I near my orgasm, eyes still on his, always on his, never leaving his. He seems to pick up how close I am, for his voice is a fractured murmur.

“Come for me, and I will reward you.” A promise.

A particular stitch of his boot is what ruins me. Or perhaps is it the way he looks at me, with a carnal adoration when I am fucking his leg. Either way, I feel myself clench, the orgasm devastating, unexpected and exhausting. Every nerve, every muscle tense and burn, stomach flipping painfully as I ride the last waves of this intimate climax.

Pressing my cheek against his knee, almost drooling on the green fabric of pants, breathing heavily, I search his eyes for approval, with the pure desire to become his property, to belong in the most intimate way he can offer.

Edward is nearly there, his fist pumping his angry cock at a frantic pace until all I hear is a strangled sob, a cue I immediately identify as I prop myself on my knees and swallow his cock tenderly, sucking him until I feel him spurt heavy strings of semen down my throat. He cries out, hips bucking as much as he can, fucking the last of his orgasm in my mouth, emptying his seeds in my stomach. He tugs at my hair gently once he feels so overstimulated it begins to hurt, and I remove myself graciously, wiping the remainder of our body fluids with the back of my hand.

I brace myself for the possibility of him leaving the premises again, leaving me empty and emotionally flayed, but am surprised when he does not. Slumping on the couch, head tilted back against the seat, his hand lays flat on the top of my head, caressing my hair aimlessly. Closing my eyes, I lean against his touch, almost purring, a profound feeling of happiness pooling inside of me. I wonder if dogs feel as elated and content from the simple pleasure of sitting next to their master; I wonder if they too feel an unconditional love, as long as they can lay their heavy head on their master’s lap. In the stillness of the night, life seems perfect as long as I am near him.

Sitting back on the couch and buttoning his pants, Edward looks at me, his face adorning a somewhat torn expression; something between exhaustion, insecurity and doubt. His fingers trace shapeless lines on my face, slipping down my neck where the fingertips stay for a while, a contemplative and pensive look on his face. I offer him a smile, tender and mild, and for a fraction of second I see the corner of his mouth twitch upwards. My heart sings. He inspires deeply, collecting himself and working his throat until he finds the right words, ones that come in his naturally detached tone.

“It’s getting really late, I think you should go home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I nod, running my fingers through my hair and massaging where my scalp feels sore. When I stand up, my knees burn from the uncomfortable position, my inner thighs feel sticky from my orgasm. Collecting my last belongings, I nod at him politely, bidding him goodnight. His smile is tired but genuine.

Goodnight, dear.

#Edward nigma #edward nigma x reader #edward nygma x reader #edward nashton x reader #the riddler x reader #riddler x reader #fanfic #my writing #Edward nygma #Edward nashton #the riddler #riddler

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legodcsupervillansbiggestfan · 15 days

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I JUST REALISED WHY THE RIDDLER IS EDWARD NIGMA

SO HE USED TO BE EDWARD NASHTON, RIGHT. BUT HE CHANGED IT TO "EDWARD NIGMA". E. NIGMA. ENIGMA!!!!!

#riddler #edward nygma #the riddler #dc riddler

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finniestoncrane · 2 years

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Hypocrite

Arkham!Riddler x GN!Reader, word count: 1.4k @that3nbytrash this is a precious idea, i'm sorry this was so nice and caring and then turned into feral rutting but this is who i am and i won't be changing and you said it was ok so i did it 💚 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi minors DNI!! 🔞 cw for nsfw stuff: language, confident eddie WHAT, but yeah there's sex, real sloppy stuff oops

You were focused on your work. Always focused. To the point where it was often easy to forget where you were, in shock when you finally looked up and remember that you were assisting your inspiration, your hero, or anti-hero, The Riddler.

It had taken a lot out of you to keep your excitement under control when you were offered the job by Edward Nigma. He was a lone-wolf more often than not, choosing to avoid associating with those not on his level of intelligence. Which to him, was everyone. But he’d chosen you, allowed you, to help him with a job that was time-sensitive. And then he’d kept you working ever since. It definitely helped your case for being blessed with the gift of being in his presence that you spent your days idolising him, worshipping him and praising him. It was obvious that was what he craved, and you were more than happy to indulge.

He often quipped that you were ‘easy to keep around’. You required little instruction, no need to check up on you, and you were the kind of person to get so focused on a task that you could carry on with it until completion, working in silence and forgoing normal breaks that some more pathetic or unionised workers might require. He never said it, but you knew he liked you. You were just like him. And there was no one he liked better than himself.

“How is it going up th-th-there, my little human helper h-h-helper? Getting a-all of your work work done d-d-done?”

The tinny speaker echoed around the room. You shouted back to it, sure the microphones in the walls would pick you up.

“Affirmative, Eddie. Now leave me alone so I can get back to work!”

“W-well well, isn’t someone a little li-little tetchy. Have you eaten e-e-eaten today?”

You tried to think back over the day so far. It would be helpful if you even knew what time it was. Glancing down at your watch, a gift from Eddie, actually, you noticed it was well into the evening, closing in to 10pm.

“Uh…not yet.”

Nothing. Silence from the speaker. It was doubtful he had eaten either. You were both as bad as each other. Neither of you were any good at being a functioning human being, both engrossed entirely in the work, you trying to balance that with a burgeoning crush on your boss. If they made crummy posters of villains, you were exactly the person who would have had Edward Nigma’s face all over your wall. Which you did, but it was photos you printed out from the tabloids, never good quality, all embarrassingly faded around the mouth where you’d kissed them goodnight. Throwing yourself into your work was the best way to curb your feelings for Edward, and to force down the excitement he found so irritating.

“You.”

You had been so busy in thought you hadn’t heard him coming up the corridor, or entering the room, or stepping up directly behind you before he spoke. Jumping from your seat, spinning around with a screwdriver in your hand, waving it at Eddie in terror, worried he was someone breaking in. He stared at it, looking back at you and raising his eyebrows, questioning your weapon of choice, ‘really?’.

“You haven’t eaten today?”

“Have you?”

Annoyed instantly at your perceived insubordination, the fact that you had dared question him, he furrowed his eyebrows, mouth curling into a frown.

“That’s not the point.”

“Isn’t it? How am I supposed to get work done if I have to take breaks. You don’t take breaks.”

“You shouldn’t follow me as an example.”

“Aren’t you exactly who I should aspire to be?”

“Oh, my sweet. I am, but you could never be me. Remember that.”

He offered a wry smile, what you had come to accept as his way of reassuring you that while his insults, his narcissism were important to his ‘brand’, that you were only on the receiving end as a way of showing he cared. That was entirely self-serving bullshit though. You still weren’t sure if Eddie even tolerated having you around. But you could hope.

“Have you been sleeping?”

“Have y-”

“We could do that back and forth all day, if you don’t mind it’s beginning to grate. Just answer the question.”

“No. I haven’t.”

“Disappointing.”

You stayed quiet, hurt by his words.

“You cannot expect to serve me to your full potential as I expect if you’re not well rested and energised.”

“I ignore a lot of needs in order to serve you as well as I do, Eddie.”

“Oh, like what?”

He was sneering, as though he knew what you meant. As though from the moment the words left your mouth, the lack of intimacy, romance or lustful, that it was at the front of your mind a lot, like he could see it in your eyes. The desperation. The hunger.

“Nothing.”

“Lies.”

You blushed as he smirked, letting out a soft chuckle.

“What, possibly, could you be giving up being locked up in here all day? I provide food, I provide shelter. What more could someone want?”

“Eddie…”

“Mr Nigma.”

You sighed, walking away from him to get back to work, listening to him take a deep breath in, tutting before he spoke again.

“You know, it’s not much of a riddle if I know what’s on your mind. I find you to be an easy puzzle to solve.”

As you turned to question him what the fuck is that supposed to mean? you were met with his body, closer than expected, arms around you to pull you back into him as you took a step back out of instinct. His nose, pointed into your cheek as his lips founds yours in a crushing embrace. With his hands, un-gloved, nimble fingers and calloused palms, fingernails scratching, he gripped at your back and hip, holding you close, making sure you couldn’t leave before he was done with you. And you had no intentions of stopping whatever was happening.

Pulling his mouth from yours, saliva stretching across the distance before falling to his chin, evidence of his passion, the interest this held for him, he took your hands in his and placed them on his chest, pupils blow wide as you let them trail down, tugging at the low collar, fingers grazing over his chest hair, curling under the hem of the vest and teasing it up.

Trying to regain control, he gripped the hair at the back of your head, tugging it back, sinking his teeth into your exposed neck, moaning against you as he nibbled his way down, letting his tongue flick out, soothing the skin he had just nipped at. Frenzied hands began moving over your body once again, his own body stepping up to you, forcing you back and into the wall where you let yourself wrap around him, a soft, pleasured sound muffled on his cheek.

In a smooth motion, so quick and practised you were almost unaware of it, Ed had your pants and underwear lowered, hands around you, soft pressure against the sensitive skin before falling to his knees, thudding hard on the ground with a groan, muffled almost instantly as he pressed his mouth to you, tasting you, devouring you. Tongue exploring every soft and tender bit of skin he could reach, explicit growls emanating from his soaked lips, one hand cupped around your ass, nails leaving tiny scratches against the cheek while his other was gripping around his length above his pants.

You were desperate for him, warm, sweating in anticipation of getting to release your pent-up arousal as he mouthed at you, tongue pulling your orgasm from you. And as you reached the edge, Ed staring up at you from behind his glasses, mouth wide open and tongue waiting, there was a sharp buzzing noise.

The door.

Ed stood up abruptly, lifting his vest and wiping at his face before turning away. Confused and frustrated, you made an attempt to get your weak legs to follow him.

“Ed…what are you…”

“I ordered food. You haven’t eaten.” He winked and left you leaning against the wall, starving.

#finnie writes #arkham #arkham riddler #arkham!riddler #arkhamverse #batman #riddler #the riddler #riddler x reader #riddler fanfic #the riddler fanfic #the riddler fanfiction #riddler x you #the riddler imagine #q #edward nigma

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broadwaytheanimatedseries · 6 months

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Found a second "clip of in-universe DC podcast" video where the host with his guest Edward "Riddler" Nigma were trying to figure out what the deal is with Robin with the leading theory being that theyre a demon

Y E S

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fawndues · 2 years

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fighting the urge to talk about either batman confidential or e. nigma, consulting detective like 24/7 please. please dc i beg for more consultant edward PLEASE more funny riddlebat shenanigans its my bread and butter

#geo rambles #pls. pls

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enigmaenjoyer · 2 years

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love that mgg is credited to both the riddler and edward e. nigma. 1) Thats The Same Guy. 2) WHERE did the 2nd E come from. is his full name edward edward nigma.

#the riddler #assault on arkham #arkhamverse #txt #ozy.txt #riddlerposting

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pastelclovds · 1 year

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do you still take rqs 4 dc? like e. nigma/riddler?

hmm… not really.

but the batman 2022 (bruce wayne and edward nashton aka the riddler) is an exception. i just have to make the masterlists first.

#꒰ 💌 ꒱ ⎯ hello #✎ secret messager ᵎᵎ #the batman 2022 #batman #edward nashton #the riddler

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cyrah-is-cool101 · 1 year

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Adventurers of the Unknown

Another Archie Comics crossover parody, enjoy!

Story:

Meet Lilith Jones, daughter of the famous Indiana Jones and world renowned Adventurer, join her and the rest of the Adventurers of the Unknown as they dispatched to combat mad villains and explore uncharted areas.

Cast:

Lilith Jones (Kate) (My OC) (Adventurer of Fortune)

Lilith is a 'tough as nails' adventurer with a brave soul and a kind attitude, hailing from Brooklyn, New York, USA. Like her father, Indiana Jones, she became an adventurer to explore and help those in needs.

Weapon of Choice: Whip

E. Nigma Nashton (Edward Nygma/The Riddler) (DC/Batman) (Private Detective)

E. Nigma Nashton, better known as E, is a famous detective and close friend to Lilith. A lover for riddles, puzzles and mysteries, any case he comes around, he solves it.

Weapon of Choice: His deductive skills and intellect

Vixen Rossi (Lila Rossi) (Miraculous Ladybug) (Daredevil Stuntwoman)

Vixen Rossi is an Italian stuntwoman, hailing from Rome, Italy. She's spunky, class and a strong girl who would do anything for the thrill and danger of an adventure.

Weapon of Choice: Her motorcycle, Piccola Volpe (Little Fox)

Deuce D. Copular (Ace D. Copular) (Powerpuff Girls) (Escape Artist)

Deuce D. Copular is an extraordinary escape artist/gambler. He can call a move of an enemy in a blink of an eye, like playing a card game such as Black Jack or Poker.

Weapon of Choice: Playing card throwing stars

Lucky O' Ryan (Aran Ryan) (Punch Out!) (Demolition Expert)

Hailing from Dublin, Ireland, Lucky is one crazy guy with TNT and a plan. Although he may look insane, he's actually a decent guy with a brain and a good heart.

Weapon of Choice: Dynamite

Watts Sputterspark (Elmo Sputterspark/Megavolt) (Darkwing Duck) (Inventor)

Watts is the team's inventor and all-around genius. He often comes off as a 'smarty pants' but he's a lovable klutz with a bad case of memory loss.

Weapon of Choice: His inventions

Dino F. Jones (Alfred F. Jones/America) (Hetalia Axis Power) (Mechanic/Driver)

Dino is Lilith's cousin from Washington, DC and a great mechanic/driver. He's a guy with a bright personality, a big smile and a big appetite, having a love for hamburgers.

Weapon of Choice: His mechanic skills

Macintosh 'Mac' McDougal (William McDougal/Groundskeeper Willie) (The Simpsons) (Strongman/Bodyguard)

Macintosh or Mac for short, is a Scottish strongman/bodyguard for the team, hailing from Glasgow, Scotland. He and Lucky often headbutt each other from time-to-time but they always set aside their differences to help the team. Mac often comes up as grumpy but think of him as the 'strict but caring uncle figure' of the team.

Weapon of Choice: Strength

Halo Dust (Angel Dust) (Hazbin Hotel) (Martial Artist)

Halo is an Italian-American with a great body and great kicks. He is a skilled martial artist and often comes off as gay but the team are proud to have him because of his skills and dedication to the team.

Weapon of Choice: Martial art skills

Reflecta (Rarity) (MLP) (Mistress of Special Effects)

(Note: No relation to Reflekta [Miraculous Ladybug])

Reflecta is a famous fashion designer but she's also the mistress of special effects, making her more elegant and practical. With a generous heart and a creative mind, she's one gal you don't want to mess when it comes to fashion.

Weapon of Choice: Laser pointer

Secondary Cast:

Billy Simpson (Bart Simpson) (The Simpsons) (Junior Adventurer)

Although the youngest of the team, Billy is both mischievous and adventurous, often assisting the team through HQ or providing the necessary equipment for their adventures.

Weapon of Choice: Slingshot

Agent Hop Tsukino (Usagi Tsukino/Sailor Moon) (Sailor Moon) (Contact from Washington/Interpol Agent)

Agent Hop is the team's contact from Washington, a Japanese woman from Tokyo, Japan and an agent for Interpol. She is both sweet and kind but has a love for adventure, often assisting the team on their missions.

Weapon of Choice: Agility

Morty Gator (Monty/Montgomery Gator) (FNAF: Security Breach) (Solo Adventurer/Swamp Ranger)

Morty is the solo adventurer of the team, often going on solo adventurers while also bringing info about certain missions to the team, helping them on other adventures. He has one hot temper being raised by a strict but caring family in the Louisiana bayou, so try not to make him angry all the time.

Weapon of Choice: Lasso

BB Cup (Buttercup) (Powerpuff Girls) (Solo Adventurer/Pilot)

BB is Deuce's girlfriend, solo adventurer and ace pilot, often involving in adventures that take high up in the sky. Like Morty, she too has a temper, often been called a tomboy but she is both loyal and honest.

Weapon of Choice: Knuckle ring

Main Villains:

Vector/Victor Perkins (Despicable Me)

Victor Perkins, better known as Vector, used to work for Hollywood as a genius special effects designer for Lilith's autobiography movie but he was fired because his effects were 'too unrealistic' and was replaced by Reflecta. Enraged, he swore revenge, making him the first villain of the adventurers.

Weapon of Choice: Piranha gun

Thelma Al Ghul (Talia Al Ghul) (DC/Batman)

Daughter of Thaw Al Ghul, Thelma is a deadly assassin who's only goal is too kill one adventurer: E. Nigma, who has put her father behind bars after a case that involve an illegal drug smuggling operation.

Weapon of Choice: Any

Gentle Thief and Le Erosa (Gentle Criminal and La Brava) (My Hero Academia)

Gentle and La Erosa are partners, as Gentle commits crimes and La Erosa records and uploads them. The two seem to be friendly with each other and exchange their motivations. La Erosa also admires Gentle and his ideas, in return Gentle appreciates La Erosa's efforts in helping him become a notorious villain. La Erosa also has an extreme love interest in Gentle, a love interest that he seems to have with her as well.

Weapon/s of Choice: Thievery skills

#crossover #my oc #dc #miraculous ladybug #powerpuff girls #punch out #darkwing duck #hetalia #the simpsons #groundskeeper willie #hazbin hotel #mlp #sailor moon #fnaf security breach #despicable me #my hero academia

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thxrxddlxr · 2 years

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Sweet, sweet suffering

-------- B A S I C S --------

LEGAL NAME: Edward Nigma

-------NAME AT BIRTH: Edward E. Nashton Jr.

-------CODENAME: The Riddler

-------ALIAS: E Nigma . Arthur Wynne . Quizmaster . The Prince of Puzzlers . Mockingbird .

SPECIES: Human

-------STATUS: Alive

DATE OF BIRTH: October 22nd

-------PLACE OF BIRTH: Waterbury, Connecticut

-------CITIZENSHIP: American

SEXUAL PREFERENCE: Bisexual

-------- P H Y S I C A L --------

FACE CLAIM: Joseph Gordon Levitt

GENDER: Male

EYE COLOR: Blue

HAIR COLOR: Brown

HEIGHT: 6'0"

WEIGHT: 140lbs

BUILD: slender / average / bony / fit / athletic / curvy / herculean / baby fat / pudgy / obese / other

AGE: 34 years old

-------- P E R S O N A --------

MORALITY: lawful / neutral / chaotic / good / grey / evil

PERSONALITY:

-------NEGATIVE ATTRIBUTES: Arrogant . Mischievous . Manipulative . Narcissistic . Short-Tempered .

-------POSITIVE ATTRIBUTES: Intelligent . Honest . Patient . Organized . Self-confident .

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Manipulator . Observant .

MENTAL HEALTH STATE: Sociopath . Narcissist . Egocentric . OCD .

PHYSICAL HEALTH STATE: Underweight

SINS: lust / greed / gluttony / sloth / pride / envy / wrath

VIRTUES: chastity / charity / diligence / humility / kindness / patience / justice

-------- O C C U P A T I O N (S) --------

COMPUTER PROGRAMMER

-------Formerly

PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR

-------Formerly

PROFESSIONAL CRIMINAL

-------Currently

-------- A F F I L I A T I O N (S) --------

SECRET SIX

-------Formerly

LEGION OF DOOM

-------Currently

INJUSTICE LEAGUE

-------Currently

SECRET SOCIETY OF SUPER VILLAINS

-------Currently

JUSTICE LEAGUE OF ARKHAM

-------Currently

-------- A D D I T I O N A L --------

SPECIALISM:

-------Engineering

-------Master of Deduction

--------Escapologist

-------Swordsmanship

OTHER SKILLS / KNOWLEDGE: Genius-level intellect . Expert analytical abilities . Eidetic memory .

WEAPON OF CHOICE: Automatic Handgun . His mind .

THREAT LEVEL: Moderate

-------- B A C K D R O P --------

What was referred to as the Lament Configuration, ended up in Edward Nigma's possession by the Collector; Otherwise known as the Penguin, a criminal and investor in acquiring odds and ends. The Lament Configuration was an ornate box, with a sleek design and polished appearance. It was no wonder the object caught Cobblepot's eye, as well as the promise it held within its core: access to the further regions of experience.

The intricate puzzle was far too tedious for the balding man, and his impatience left him uttering profanities within miut4se of getting his hands on the box. In annoyance and a need to know the secrets hiding inside, Oswald made a call to the one man he knew that could solve this--The Riddler. A fellow criminal whose knack for riddles and conundrums laid the foundation to his criminal career then began diverting from those theatrics, he was now recognized for his genius intellect and analytical expertise.

Nigma jumped at the opportunity, not only to showcase his genius but as a test to his own mental prowess. He half listened to the information Penguin supplied, as he was enamored by the complexities and details upon each side of the box, his fingers tracing over them in a delicate, careful manner. A peculiar name, he noted. Don't know what that could mean, not do I care, he thought in regards to the box's contents. That was the extent of it, before deciding to complete the favor for the man.

Returning to his home, Edward cleared his schedule in order to free himself of any obligations for the evening so to focus on the puzzle clutched in his hand. Falling back into the sofa, Nigma propped his feet on one of the arms of the couch while his head rested against a pillow propped against the other. Intelligent blue eyes following each ling, dexterous fingers sliding along the grooves and corners, all while his mind raced with wonder and determination. The man was fueled by an impulse related to self-worth. A smug confidence in himself that he could, and will, solve the box. However, as the clock ticked softly in the background, there was a small bead of curiosity that was slowly enlarging in the back of his mind--slowly drifting forward to rest upon the forefront of his brain, leaking into every thought. A further region of experience, hmm.

Grazing each of the circular centers upon each of the six sides, Edward kept his bottom lip tucked between his top and bottom rows of teeth. The gold, shiny pattern glistening as it gently tumbled through his hands before his thumb stopped upon one of the golden shapes. The side of the puzzle it was on, possessed various symbols of an unfamiliar language or religion--he wasn't certain of its origin. With a bit of pressure, the button clicked faintly and the top of the box moved. Parts of it lifting up and sliding forward, then sinking back into the box.

Edward sat up in response to this, watching the moving pieces as a faint ringing met his ears. With a soft grunt of irritation, his eyes shifted to the clock, his phone face down on the coffee table, to his door. A gentle creaking of the floorboards and walls raised his suspicion, but not by much. Old Gotham, he assumed. The pale blue light that filtered through his window grabbed him. Turning, his eyes scanned the skyline through the slits of his blinds. No fancy new or familiar tech from the Bat was in sight, so he shrugged the observation off. As for the bells, he wasn't sure what as causing the noise, but the chime quickly faded into the background as his attention resumed on the engima in his palms.

Running the flat of his hand over where the pieces rose and fell, a fascinated smirk spread across his face accompanied by a wild glint in his eyes. The box was rotated, put under an analytical eye once again as he carefully thought about his next move.

The dials on the top and bottom of the box seemed to call to him. Shifting from his previous position, he planted his feet on the floor while his elbows rested atop his legs. Leaning forward in concentration, Nigma's thumb gingerly slid across its diameter before moving along its surface in a counterclockwise fashion. A scoff pushed past his lips at the sound of another click. His fingers moving as the seams separated, lifted upwards into a shape resembling that of a star. He studied it in this state--an anxious feeling taking root in his gut; and an unease snaking its way into his chest.

The blue lights from earlier drifted through the room once more. The ringing rising in volume ever so slightly. A chill crept up his spine, but he assumed it was his ego feeding off of this moment. The look on Oswald's face when e hears how quickly it took him to solve this, ha. Edward did his best to ignore his surroundings. He went to turn the lifted piece in the same direction as the dial, but it wouldn't budge. Changing direction, the upper half shifted to a point where it matched the slits in the bottom half. With a held breath, Edward pushed down, sliding those pieces into place.

A light tremor ran through his apartment and the blue lights returned, filtering through the blinds much brighter than tey did before. A resonating tone filled the space. Before he could properly react to his surroundings, blue sparks streaked from the box resulting in him letting it fall to the floor. With furrowed brows, he moved to stand but was suddenly restrained by an arm around his neck.

Edward Nigma had not realized the deal he had made upon opening the Lament Configuration. A nightmare full of impossibilities and terrors awaited him, as he met the face(s) of pain.

#hrau

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