🎱🍒cherryzz-pen🍒🎱

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

🍒🥰 About Me!🥰🍒

📻🚬Updates🚬📻

💕FANDOM’S💕

✨Series in Progress✨

Hi everyone, I just wanted to share a quick update about my fanfic, “She Walks On A Path Of Empty Lies,” and my writing in general since it’s been a while — I’m sorry about that. I also want to thank everyone who’s been seriously reading this. It’s crazy how many people actually liked it and left such kind comments. I honestly didn’t think anything would come of it, especially since this is my first time posting on AO3 or Tumblr. To be honest, it’s also the first time I’ve shared any of my fanfic publicly, aside from when I was 12 and used Wattpad (which I gave up quickly). Most of my fanfic has been written privately, either stored on Google Docs or in journals. Saying this has been a new experience for me is an understatement, and I truly appreciate everyone's kindness and patience. That said, if I haven’t already mentioned it, I’ll say it again — my updates are slow lately, mainly because school has gotten crazier (I’m so close to graduating college — let’s go!), and my health has been declining recently because I have epilepsy.

“She Walks On A Path Of Empty Lies” actually started as a vent fic, among other things, if I’m honest. I’ve been writing based on my own experiences with the disorder. I know it can look very different for everyone, but when I started this, my seizures were on a downward trend. Things improved, as they usually do, since I’ve had this disorder since I was about 13. I recently went through another slump — probably the worst I’ve had in a long time — which makes everything mentally and physically challenging. So, I’ve made it a rule to do slow updates from day one. However, I want you all to know that I’m not stopping writing, and I’m not giving up on this fic either. I find it oddly therapeutic to return to it during times like this. I just have to take baby steps, and that’s okay! I also want to let you all know that I’ll be rereleasing some new chapters soon for “She Walks On A Path Of Empty Lies,” and I’ll be making the fic public again. I hope to share the first few chapters of another project I’ve been working on — which I've been calling 'Hannibal' for any Hannibal NBC fans out there — soon.

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

🎀AO3 UPDATE/UPDATE ABOUT WORKS🎀

🤷‍♀️UPDATE?/UPDATE ON WORKS?/VENT?/IDK🤷‍♀️

Hey everyone! I’ve got some news to share that I think is pretty good! Recently, the AI company that scraped AO3 to train its website has been permanently shut down. That means you can no longer access that data set. You can still check out the conversations and copyright reports, though.

What’s even better is that AO3’s data set, along with many other writing and art websites, is safe from their system now. So, what does this mean for my fanfic? Well, I’m seriously thinking about reopening it to the public! This way, both account holders and those without accounts can enjoy it again. I want to give it a month or two for everything to settle since it all seems a bit sudden and too good to be true.

I have to admit, and maybe this makes me sound like a cynic or rather paranoid. I don't see AI entirely out of the picture just yet, in fact, I don’t see it going anywhere anytime soon and I’d hate to reopen my fic only for something like this to happen again. Especially when by some stroke of luck my fic didn't get scrapped this go round. But on the bright side, I really do think this is great news for many of us writers!

⚠️Please refer to the Author's Note for content warnings⚠️

(Y/N) woke up the next day with a pounding migraine, feeling nauseous and feverish. They remained in a dissociated state for a while until their body and mind gradually regained some clarity. Looking around, they realized that the previous day's events were not a figment of their imagination. They were still trapped in a desolate warehouse. However, they noticed that they were no longer bound to the small wooden chair they had initially been tied to. They found themselves alone in the rundown space, with no sign of Edward or Jonathan. This new information left (Y/N) uncertain whether to feel relieved or even more anxious.

Slowly, (Y/N) stood up and began to explore the decrepit surroundings. The space had clearly been someone's attempt to make it livable and cozy, yet it still emanated an eerie atmosphere. The realization of being truly alone settled in, prompting (Y/N) to hurriedly search for any visible exits in the warehouse. They pulled at doors, jiggled windows, and tried everything to find a way out. Unfortunately, luck was not on their side, and after what felt like hours of fruitless searching (but was only one hour), they gave up, collapsing to the ground with labored breathing.

In that moment, (Y/N) didn't shed tears. Instead, an overwhelming anger consumed them, surpassing any description. They lashed out, hitting and throwing objects in their vicinity, screaming at the top of their lungs, though their voice came out strangled due to the lingering pain from the surgery. Gradually, exhaustion took over, but the anger still simmered beneath the surface. Eventually, it transformed into fear and sadness as (Y/N) longed for the presence of their parents. Their dissociation returned to their consciousness as they sat in a dormant state on the dirty concrete floor of the warehouse.

It was the nagging pain in their stomach that finally snapped (Y/N) out of their vegetative state. Looking up, they noticed that the sun was now setting through the dirty glass panel windows surrounding the warehouse. With wobbly legs, (Y/N) got up, feeling the numbness from their legs having fallen asleep. They approached what appeared to be a neglected kitchen area, hoping to find some food.

As they approached the kitchen, (Y/N) took in the mismatched chairs and table that formed a makeshift dining room. Looking to their left, they saw mold covering the surface of the sink and oven while dirty dishes littered the sink and countertop. (Y/N) scrunched up their face in disgust. As they continued to walk around the small kitchen, they noticed a fridge. A small sticky note was stuck on its door. Curiously, (Y/N) ripped it off and held it close to their face to make sense of the tiny handwriting.

“(Y/N), Jon and I will be gone for a while; we're not sure when we’ll be back. Food is in the fridge; spare clothes are on a mattress in our room, as well as your medication. Jon managed to find them… not sure where.” The first half of the note made (Y/N) roll their eyes and groan at the sheer idiocy of it. “Well, at least I’m not dead, and they thought about me. There’s a start,” (Y/N) mumbled to themselves, sarcasm oozing from their lips. As they continued to read, the note concluded, “I advise you not to try and leave if you're even somewhat smart. Not that you can, of course.” It was signed with Edward’s name, written in dramatic and neat cursive handwriting. Angrily, (Y/N) threw the sticky note aside, shivering as they opened the fridge in search of food, the chill biting at them since they didn’t have much on—just the paper scrubs the hospital had given them, which were slowly disintegrating.

They pulled out a plate covered with Saran wrap, assuming it was for them. Removing the wrap revealed some leftover stir-fry. (Y/N) held it close to their face to inspect it for anything suspicious. Given their current situation, they weren’t taking any chances. Almost considering it wiser not to eat in case it was poisoned, they were reminded of how their stomach growled impatiently. When had they last eaten? They might have to take this risk, for who knew if their captors would be so generous again.

Reluctantly, (Y/N) placed the food in the old-looking microwave near the fridge. They then searched for the clothes and medicine promised to them, wandering around the warehouse until they found what appeared to be a bedroom—or at least an attempt to make something resembling it. (Y/N) cautiously tiptoed around the area, searching for what they needed, only to spot a spare mattress on the floor with a few assorted piles of clothes as if Edward and Jonathan had sporadically gathered them from God knows where, unsure of what to get their hostage.

They then saw a duffle bag zipped open, filled to the brim with medication. Taking a good long look at the bottles, (Y/N) checked to see if they had been tampered with. After minutes of meticulous observation, they assessed that everything looked okay.

Quickly, (Y/N) dressed in the least cumbersome clothes they could find among the piles and discarded the deteriorating scrubs clinging to their body. They took at least two bottles of the prescription medication they knew they would need and sauntered back into the kitchen, retrieving the stir-fry they had just heated in the microwave. Searching for silverware and cups, they found mismatched utensils in a random cabinet, with cups on the shelf above. Grabbing what they needed, (Y/N) headed to the sink to pour some water into their cup before going to the dining table with food in hand, wasting no time eating what had been given to them.

They eyed the medicine bottles suspiciously, questioning whether it was worth the risk. They knew it wasn’t good to keep prolonging taking them, especially since they had no concept of time. All (Y/N) knew was that it was late, but how late? Was it ten minutes after their medication time? That wasn’t a big deal. Or was it three hours later? That was a huge problem! They thought.

“Fuck it, better to be responsible and on time than not take it all. Maybe, if I’m lucky, it’ll kill me pretty fast, and I won’t be stuck here,” they grumbled to themselves as they decided to take the risk, opening the bottles and taking out what they needed. Quickly downing the medication with the water, they finished their food and sat there with muddled thoughts, the creaking of the wooden support beams in the warehouse being the only noise that filled their ears. As they sat in that little rickety chair, nothing happened to them; they were perfectly fine. They just felt alone and scared of what was to come.

Deciding they couldn’t take being alone with their thoughts anymore, (Y/N) searched for something to fill that void. They wandered aimlessly around the warehouse until they found what appeared to be a makeshift living room in the vast expanse of the building. It contained one of those old box TVs they vaguely remembered their family owning when they were a child, still hooked up to a VHS player. After a few disgruntled minutes trying to remember how to turn the damn thing on, they finally saw the grainy screen flicker to life with a colorful glow.

Searching for the remote, they found it stuck between the makeshift living room's couch cushions. They started mindlessly flipping through channels until they landed on the news, like a deer caught in headlights. That empty feeling returned to their heart as if someone had reached in and started to squeeze it with anger and hate. The TV revealed a news anchor at a sleek-looking desk, Gotham’s news logo shining in the background.

“Good evening, Gotham. I’m Sara Winfrey with tonight’s top story, which seems to be a troubling one…” the older woman began as if delivering bad news was no surprise to her at all and was, in fact, a regular occurrence. “A young woman has been reported missing after being abducted from Gotham General Hospital just hours following her surgery. Witnesses claim that (Y/N) (L/N) was taken by five unknown persons in a van that was not authorized for medical transport, leaving both staff and family in shock.”

The camera shifted to live footage outside the hospital, where police were cordoning off the area, and reporters were gathering information. The anchor’s voice continued over the images. “We now turn to the parents of the missing individual, who have agreed to speak with us during this challenging time. Joining us live are (Y/N)’s mother and father. Thank you both for being here. We know this wasn’t an easy decision for you.”

The camera focused on what appeared to be (Y/N)’s parents, two middle-aged people in their late fifties, steadily approaching their sixties. They sat next to each other on a couch in what looked like a separate recording studio owned by the news station, but (Y/N) wasn’t sure. It killed them to see their parents’ vacant stares, utterly distraught at how such a thing could have happened as if this was the last place they wanted to be when they could be looking for their child.

“Thank you for joining us. Can you share what you experienced on the day (Y/N) went missing?” the interviewer asked, holding a microphone in front of (Y/N)’s parents’ faces.

After a long silence, (Y/N)’s mother spoke up, her voice shaky. “We were so relieved when we heard the surgery was successful. (Y/N) has always been so strong. They’ve been through so much, but they always bounce back. They’re so full of life. We were still in the waiting room, informed that they would wake up in about an hour and we could come back and see them. So we stepped out for a moment to breathe, and when we came back, they were gone. They were just gone!”

(Y/N)’s father then chimed in, his jaw clenched, his voice steady but filled with anger and something akin to sadness and failure. “We were told they were stable. I can’t fathom how someone could just take (Y/N) from a hospital, just up and walk away with them like that. It’s supposed to be a safe place. What kind of fucking establishment do you run in this city if a patient in the hospital isn’t even safe?!” he seethed, only to watch as their mother desperately tried to calm him down.

“What can you tell us about (Y/N)? What makes them unique?” the interviewer asked with intrigue and little sympathy as (Y/N) watched the tears glistening in their mother’s eyes, still visible even through the grainy TV screen.

“She’s our sunshine. Always smiling, she was so happy to achieve such a big milestone in her health. She was looking forward to going back to college without any setbacks. She wanted to help people. She’s compassionate, caring, funny, she’s my baby, damn it!” Their mother trailed off, unable to hold in her tears any longer, while their father held her closely, trying to comfort her.

“She lights up every room she walks into. Losing her feels like losing a piece of ourselves. We just want her back,” their father added, barely above a whisper, as if trying not to break down himself.

“What message would you like to send to anyone who might have information about her?” the interviewer asked with the same obnoxious, unsympathetic tone. “Please, if anyone knows something—anything at all—come forward. We need to find her. We’re begging you,” their mother said desperately, tears streaming down her face like a water fountain.

Their father then spoke with a shaky voice, giving the camera an enraged look devoid of any other emotion. “And to the person who did this… know that if you don’t give my little girl back in one piece, I will make sure you never know peace again,” he said with a fit of anger (Y/N) had never seen him possess before. “Please… I just want my little girl back,” he trailed off, trying to look tough but appearing wholly beaten down.

The camera transitioned back to the anchor, who looked somber and concerned. Clearing her throat as if to try to dispel the tension, she said, “Our thoughts and prayers are with (Y/N)’s family during this unimaginable time. Authorities are asking anyone with information to reach out. Together, we can help bring (Y/N) home.” A picture of (Y/N) flashed on the screen as the anchor concluded, “I’m Sara Winfrey, signing off.”

(Y/N) sat there, staring at the grainy screen with a thousand-yard stare, not realizing they were crying as images of their parents were carved into their brain. A familiar voice spoke from behind, snapping them out of their distraught stupor. “Pathetic, really…” was all the voice said. (Y/N) whipped their head around to see Edward standing behind them in the same matching green suit and pants they had first met him in, leaning against the couch.

“What did you say?” (Y/N) asked, fear replaced with unadulterated hate as Edward’s words sank in.

“Are you deaf?” Edward scoffed. “I said that was pathetic. Your parents must have two brain cells if they think begging on live television will get them any help in this city.” He looked bored, inspecting his nails while all (Y/N) saw was red and nothing else.

“Say it again… say my parents are pathetic again, I dare you,” they said in a low tone just above a whisper, their eyes boring into Edward’s, who didn’t seem to notice. In fact, he found their challenge rather amusing. “I said they were pathetic,” Edward said nonchalantly, thinking it would knock (Y/N) down a peg in their battered state. Instead, it had quite the opposite effect; they jumped over the back of the couch, tackling the older man to the floor and starting to punch him with everything they had.

(Y/N) had never been in a fight before, but somehow, in their fit of rage, they managed to beat the man down, even if their swings were sloppy. Suddenly, they felt a hand yank them by the hair, pulling them off Edward, who was fighting back just as hard as he scrambled on the floor like a worm.

“Hey!” yelled Jonathan, his familiar baritone voice forcing (Y/N) to face him. “Now, just what the fuck do you think you’re doing, huh? You must be dumber than I thought. You want to stay alive? Do you?” Jonathan yelled, his eyes wide behind the burlap material of his mask.

(Y/N) started to let out an exasperated and almost eerie laugh, smiling up at the gaunt man. “Well, if you want to go on, do it… kill me. Kill me if you're that insistent on it 'cause it sure sounds like you are.” Silence stretched between all three of them as (Y/N) continued their wheezy laughter. “That’s what I thought; you wouldn’t do it. Neither one of you are,” they said, turning back to Edward, who lay sprawled out on the concrete ground, bruised and bloody from their fight. “Pathetic…” they said in the same nonchalant tone he had used before, if not with more venom, which caught him off guard.

Their attention was then drawn back to Jonathan, whose grip on (Y/N)'s hair tightened painfully. Their faces were mere inches apart, and (Y/N) could feel his stale breath seeping through his mask and onto their skin.

“Now you listen here, and listen good… you aren’t in a position to make threats and be an intolerant little piece of shit!” He hissed, his grip growing tighter, his eyes boring into (Y/N)’s. “We will feed you, clothe you, and make sure your health is just fine. After all this is done, if you cooperate… you might even get to walk away from this. Now, ain’t that nice?” Jonathan said in a menacing purr that made the anger and boldness (Y/N) had been feeling slowly fade, replaced by their previous fear and confusion. “But if you keep acting like that! I promise you ain’t going nowhere, neither is your momma and daddy. We clear?” Jonathan asked, and as (Y/N) mustered a frantic nod, tears streamed down their face.

“Good…” Jonathan said, releasing (Y/N) and dropping them to the floor like a worn rag doll. “Now get up; I expect you to apologize to my associate.” He said sternly as (Y/N) moved ungracefully to their feet. They looked over at Edward, and if looks could kill, he would have been dead a thousand times over with the glare (Y/N) gave him. Edward patiently waited for their apology, a shit-eating grin on his face. “Well, go on, I’m waiting,” Edward said in a snarky tone as (Y/N) sighed.

“I’m sorry… I hurt you,” they said bitterly, the words feeling wrong as they came off their tongue.

“Hm, good enough, I suppose. You could’ve done better, but I accept it,” was all Edward said as he wiped some blood from his nose and got up off the floor, his smirk never leaving his face.

“Now we have some things to discuss, but next time you pull a stunt like that again, trust me when I say your daddy will be disappointed to see you coming home in little pieces, like he was talking about,” he said smugly, his words no empty threat.

As (Y/N) begrudgingly and timidly followed the two men holding them captive, they wondered what exactly would come in the days to follow. How would they get out of this? They wondered how their parents were doing and how they were coping. They also pondered whether anyone would even bother to look for them. Maybe Edward was right—not about their parents, but about them being pathetic instead. All these thoughts swirled around in their head as they followed the two men.

⚠️Please refer to the Author's Note for content warnings⚠️

Two days had passed, and (Y/N)'s family anxiously awaited word from the doctor. They had finally managed to calm down her father and rearrange his work schedule to stay longer. In the meantime, they explored more of Gotham, oblivious to the storm that the Riddler and Scarecrow had planned.

Sitting on one of the hotel beds, (Y/N) watched as the rain poured outside. A sea of umbrellas filled the streets as people scurried to avoid getting wet. The only bursts of color in the bleak cityscape came from the bright lights of the buildings, cars, and billboards. Even the people were dressed in dull colors, making Gotham a wash of blacks, greys, and whites as the rain continued to fall.

The weather made (Y/N) feel tired, and it seemed like the perfect opportunity to take a nap. They couldn't understand how the people of Gotham still had so much energy despite the inclement weather. Moving away from the window, (Y/N) snuggled closer in the soft blankets, enjoying the quiet as sleep started to take over. However, they were abruptly awakened by the sound of the door opening and two sets of footsteps entering the room. Bags were shuffled around as their groggy eyes opened.

"Come on, we have to go," their mom said sternly, frantically packing their things and (Y/N)'s belongings. Confused, (Y/N) rubbed their eyes and sat up in bed. "Huh? What's going on?" they asked.

"The doctor called. They're ready for us, but we need to be there in the next twenty minutes. And traffic is bad because of this weather," their mom explained.

"Oh, shit, really?!" (Y/N) exclaimed, getting out of bed to help with the packing.

"Yes, now come on, let's go! And watch your language," their dad chimed in, holding the door open and motioning for them to hurry. (Y/N) rolled their eyes at his comment but grabbed their things and headed out the door. "Alright, alright, like mom doesn't curse worse than me," they mumbled, trying to stifle a laugh. "Yeah, that's exactly what I'm afraid of. Now let's get a move on. The taxi should be here any minute," their dad said as he followed his wife and daughter to the front lobby.

————————————————————

Now, (Y/N) sat in the back of the hospital in a hospital bed. Their parents were waiting in the lobby as they prepared to be wheeled into the operating room. Dr. Christine quietly entered the room with a smile on her face, holding a clipboard and pen. She tried not to disturb (Y/N) as the nurses hooked them up to the necessary machines and began administering the medications to prepare them for anesthesia.

"Hi Mrs. (L/N), I’m Dr. Christine, head of the neurology department here at Gotham General Hospital. I know we've spoken before, but it's nice to finally meet you in person," Dr. Christine said with a warm smile. (Y/N) returned the smile weakly, clearly tired and affected by the medication. "Yes, it's nice to finally meet you too, Dr. Christine. Thank you so much for all that you've done to help," (Y/N) replied, trying to sound genuine but sounding loopy instead.

Dr. Christine chuckled softly at (Y/N)'s attempt to be polite, brushing a loose strand of bleach blonde hair behind her ear. "Well, we haven't started the procedure, so don't thank me just yet. But do you mind if I ask you a few questions?" she asked. (Y/N) nodded. "Of course, seems like that's been the theme this morning, huh?" (Y/N)'s statement made Dr. Christine laugh.

"Well, yes, I suppose that's true. Well, let's get started. What brings you in for this operation?" Dr. Christine inquired.

"I have epilepsy, and the medication isn't working anymore. I guess this is my last resort," (Y/N) replied nonchalantly.

"Alright then. And how long have you been experiencing seizures?" Dr. Christine asked.

"Since I was in eighth grade, so about 12-13 years old," (Y/N) answered.

"And there's no family history of epilepsy or any other neurological disorders?" Dr. Christine continued.

"No, ma'am. That's half the reason why me and my family are stumped," (Y/N) said, an awkward but saddened smile on her face.

"I see, definitely strange," Dr. Christine muttered to herself as she jotted down some notes on her clipboard. "Have you experienced any other side effects from your seizures, such as depression, anxiety, trouble with comprehension, increased irritability, mood swings, or trouble sleeping?"

"Yes, yes, and yes to pretty much all of that," (Y/N) replied nervously, as Dr. Christine continued with her questions. "Have you been sick within the last two weeks? Are you pregnant or planning to be?"

"No, ma'am. I haven't been sick, and Lord no, I'm not pregnant," (Y/N) chuckled, raising her hands defensively. Dr. Christine laughed and shook her head. "Hey, it's alright. One last question, dear. Are you aware of all the risks and complications that could come with this procedure?" (Y/N) nodded in response. "Yes, I'm well aware, ma'am."

"Alrighty then. Our anesthesia team should be in here in about fifteen minutes or so. Once they arrive, we'll get started. I'll see you soon when you wake up, Mrs. (L/N). It was nice meeting you," Dr. Christine said with a smile and a wave, before walking out of the room, leaving (Y/N) alone. Listening to the surrounding sounds of the machines hooked up to her and the distant hustle and bustle of patients and doctors throughout the hospital.

——————————————————————

After leaving the hospital room, Dr. Christine swiftly made her way back up to her office, determined to complete her task. Meanwhile, the anesthesia team had already started working on (Y/N), ensuring that everything was in order. Dr. Christine picked up her phone and dialed a few numbers, patiently waiting for the other line to connect. Finally, the Riddler answered, his voice oddly cheerful yet sinister.

"Good morning, Dr. Christine. I assume you have everything ready?" he inquired, his tone sending shivers down her spine.

"Yes, your... test subject, as you so crudely put it," she grumbled, unable to hide her annoyance. "She will be ready within two hours. The medications and anesthesia we administered were a bit stronger than usual, so you should have enough time to transport her to whatever cave you crawled out of."

"Oh, come now, doctor. No need to be rude," the Riddler retorted, his words laced with amusement. "But duly noted. Thank you for your cooperation. We will contact you if we require anything else. Auf Wiedersehen." With that, he abruptly ended the call, leaving Dr. Christine to contemplate the dangerous path she had ventured upon.

—————————————————————

(Y/N) slowly blinked, gradually regaining consciousness after the procedure. Their vision was blurred, with time passing in fragmented, disoriented chunks. At one point, they could feel themselves still connected to the machines, the stitches on their neck and chest tenderly grazing their skin. Their voice felt hoarse, as if strained from the surgery. Then, with another blink, they realized they were no longer tethered to the machines and sensed themselves being transported elsewhere. Blinking again, they felt their body being lifted into a van, though uncertainty clouded their mind. It was evident that this was not their parents' car, causing panic to surge through them. However, the effects of the medication rendered them immobile, preventing any attempt to move or scream for help. With yet another blink, they found themselves in the back of the van, faintly hearing distant voices emanating from the front. Then, without further warning, they succumbed to unconsciousness.

—————————————————————-

(Y/N) slowly began to wake up, feeling nauseated as the harsh lighting of the warehouse's overhead lamp shone in her face, intensifying the migraine she felt. She strained to listen for any sound or sign of someone nearby, but all she could hear was the dripping of leaky pipes and the distant sound of crickets chirping and boats passing by. As her eyes gradually adjusted to the dark room, panic started to consume her.

Suddenly, she heard faint footsteps coming from the left, causing her eyes to widen. She scanned the room, trying to identify who was there. "Aww, I think she's scared," a deep, reverberating voice said mockingly. "You shouldn't move too much, darlin. Those stitches aren't fully healed yet. We might have to open you up again." A low chuckle followed the voice. (Y/N) tried to scream, but only a strained squeaking noise escaped her throat. She realized she was bound to a chair and unable to move.

"If you cooperate, this can be easier for you, and you can go home. I promise. But first, we need your help with something," the voice continued. (Y/N) could only look back and forth, unable to respond due to her damaged voice. She nodded, scared what would happen if she didn’t comply her breath trembling, as she heard the footsteps pacing around her.

"I'll let my associate explain since he's better at explaining things," the voice said. A hand emerged from the shadows, resting on (Y/N)'s shoulder. She could vaguely recognize the green suit and cane, causing her heart to sink.

"Thank you kindly," the familiar voice of Ed thanked the other person in the room before turning his attention back to (Y/N). "I'll keep it simple so I don't confuse that pretty little head of yours too much. Right now, you're just a test subject and a means to pay off debts." Ed's words puzzled (Y/N), and she looked up at him, her expression no longer filled with terror. This annoyed Ed, and he realized he needed to explain the plan more clearly.

"My associate and I are working on a more refined version of the device you currently possess. This new device, instead of aiding you, could potentially exacerbate your enemies' weaknesses, leading to their confinement in Arkham due to their psychotic breakdowns. Alternatively, we could make it appear as if they had met with an unfortunate accident. Either option would be preferable." (Y/N) could only gaze up at Ed, utterly perplexed by the direction of this plan, which only seemed to agitate him further.

"Our esteemed new senator of Gotham has squandered a substantial amount of money on updating the GCPD. Unfortunately, these updates have only served to make our already demanding jobs even more challenging. Frankly, we don't need that additional burden. Furthermore, my associate and I find ourselves in a rather precarious financial state as we struggle to execute this plan and maintain the intricate hardwire that powers your delicate components. It seems that some of these parts, given your involvement in a test run program, have unexpectedly become highly sought-after due to their valuable materials. Who would have thought?!" Ed's voice remained devoid of emotion as he sarcastically clapped his hands and distanced himself slightly from (Y/N), offering them a sardonic smile.

"So, as I said, you will be our trial run, our guinea pig," Ed concluded. (Y/N) tilted her head to the side, momentarily forgetting her anxiety as she tried to wrap her head around what he had just said. "So, you're telling me that I'm your last resort because both of you are broke, like really broke. And you couldn't come up with a better plan? And somehow I was part of a test run procedure my doctor didn’t disclose. So now the hardware that’s in me is valuable?” She asked boldly, before letting out a strained laugh. “Oh wow this…this is actually the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Suddenly, familiar tousled brunette hair emerged from beneath the scarecrow mask and straw hat of Ed’s associate. (Y/N) hadn't paid much attention to it before, but now she recognized the voice speaking, confirming her suspicions. "I told you it was a dumb idea," Jon said flatly and irritably to Ed. Ed turned to Jon, glaring at him. "Okay, I was the one who said it was dumb first. Excuse me for suggesting other options like kidnapping him, killing him ourselves, robbing him ourselves, blackmail, or bribery. But no, we tried all of that, and none of it worked!"

"Well, I thought the bribery was going pretty well for a while," Jon said softly, his tone unusually optimistic. Ed covered his face, trying not to scream. "It went well for you! You weren't the one who got beaten up by the Bat!" Jon looked around, even though his face was hidden behind the mask. "Oh, yeah. I forgot about that."

(Y/N) couldn't help but laugh, watching the two argue like an old married couple. Their so-called plan had turned into a complete failure. "So, I'm right then? You both have no plan, and I should be let go," she said meekly but calmly. Jon moved closer to her, and she could feel Ed standing next to her. "I believe the mouse has lost its bite. Such a shame... But no, we won't be letting you go, not until we can sort this out," he said, moving away from her. "What?! Wait! That's not fair!" she cried out, her voice strained from her still-healing vocal cords.

Ed couldn't help but chuckle as he walked away with Jon. "That's life, deal with it," he said, as they started to leave. However, (Y/N) found her voice again and spoke up. "Don't act like I don't know who you are. I was nothing but kind to both of you and gave you no reason to be mean to me. Why?" she asked, her voice trembling and tears threatening to spill.

They both stopped in their tracks, guilt washing over them. "Welcome to Gotham, then. No one is kind here. Get used to it," Ed stated flatly, as they continued walking away.

⚠️Please refer to the Author's Note for content warnings⚠️

The day arrived for (Y/N) and their family to go to the hospital. They woke up early to the blaring alarms, groaning and stretching in an attempt to wake up and get dressed. After the chaos of the previous day, when (Y/N) had gotten lost, their parents were beyond relieved when she finally made it to the restaurant. All (Y/N) could see was her parents arguing back and forth, with the authorities called and a few cops trying to get her mother to cooperate in locating (Y/N). Waiters and other staff were on standby to help.

As soon as (Y/N) walked in, her mom rushed towards her, scooping her up in a hug and crying while holding her tightly. Her father finally seemed to let out a breath he had been holding since (Y/N) was returned, still unable to let go of the fact that they had lost her.

"(Y/D/N), I can't believe you still lost her like that... it's ridiculous," her mom grumbled while brushing her teeth. Her father snapped his head back at her, eyes narrowed. "God, are you still talking about this, (Y/M/N)? I thought we let this go last night. Please, I'm sorry! I didn't see her, okay? Besides, she's grown, she would've been fine," her dad said while adjusting his shirt collar.

(Y/N)'s mom immediately stopped what she was doing and faced her father. Meanwhile, (Y/N) sat in awkward silence, watching their argument unfold. "She could've been kidnapped! Or worse! What do you mean she would've been fine?! You know what, forget it! This is the doctor calling, I need to take this," she said with an irritated sigh, grabbing her phone and giving (Y/N) a sympathetic look.

(Y/N) watched as her father walked out to the lobby, slamming the door to their hotel room. A moment of stressful silence washed over the room as (Y/N) sat there, feeling like an inconvenience to everyone around her. Her mother held the phone, letting it ring, looking completely and utterly exhausted. (Y/N) gave a concerned look to her mother before speaking to her “are you ok mom?” "(Y/N), I'm... okay, honey, I'm just tired, that's all," her mom finally said in a tired voice.

"Are you sure? Do you want me to get you anything or talk about it?" (Y/N) asked with concern, her voice barely audible. "(Y/N)! Please! I'll be fine, I'm sorry. Let me take this," her mother snapped, giving her an apologetic look before answering the phone. (Y/N) was left looking down at her hands, feeling like a burden to everyone in that moment.

"Yes, hello?" her mother answered. "Wait, what?! No, there must be some mistake!" Her mother's voice rose in anger. "Is there any way you can still get us in later today?" She listened silently to the person on the other end. "Alright... thank you, Dr. Christine. I'll let my husband and daughter know," her mother said before hanging up the phone.

"What's wrong, Mom?" (Y/N) questioned, concern and fear evident in her voice. Her mother looked both concerned and defeated as she explained, "The doctors decided to push your surgery back two more days, so we'll be here longer." She slumped into the small desk chair in the hotel room.

"Well... two more days isn't so bad, is it?" (Y/N) spoke up softly, watching her mother trying to ward off an incoming migraine. "I guess you're right, (Y/N). I'm just so stressed right now, and this was just one more thing on my plate. But I guess you're right, it'll be okay. Let me go find your father and tell him the news. If you want to relax somewhere around the hotel you can, just please don't go far, okay?" Her mother said in a soft but stern tone as she made her way to the door.

(Y/N) nodded, giving her mother a reassuring smile. "Alright, Mom. Thank you, and hey, we'll all be okay, okay?" Her mother could only manage a tired smile before walking out the door, leaving (Y/N) to their own devices.

—————————————————————

Dr. Christine let out a heavy sigh as she ended the phone call with (Y/M/N). She placed her head down on her office desk, her mind racing as she tried to comprehend the mess she had gotten herself into. Continuing down this path would only hurt more people, but the thought of losing the job she had worked so hard for was unbearable. She had climbed her way to the top through unethical means, and now it seemed that her actions were coming back to haunt her. She didn't want to lose everything she had worked for, even if it meant reconnecting with old acquaintances she had sworn off.

With a deep breath, she pulled herself together and slowly dialed Crane's number, anxiously waiting as the phone rang on the other end. Finally, he picked up. "Is it done?" he questioned, his voice filled with anticipation.

"Yes, it's done. You both have more time now. I hope you're happy," she replied, her voice tinged with frustration.

A low chuckle could be heard on the other end of Dr. Christine's phone as Jonathan responded, "Good, good. We'll be seeing you soon, darlin'. Have a nice day." With that, he hung up, leaving Dr. Christine feeling a mix of relief and unease.

—————————————————————-

(Y/N) decided to take a break from sitting by the pool after three hours deciding to head down to the nearby stores a block away. She had gotten bored with no company, as her mom was still trying to calm her father down after breaking the news to him. She texted her mom, letting her know that she would be going just down the street and would be back soon. Her mom initially panicked, worried that she might get lost again, but eventually they reached an agreement. Her mom allowed her to go, as long as she didn't go too far and only stayed out for an hour and a half. She also had to check in with her mom periodically. (Y/N) happily agreed to these conditions.

She walked down the sidewalk wearing a pair of shorts and a T-shirt over her bikini, with sandals on her feet, with her purse over her shoulder to avoid looking disheveled. Entering the small boutiques and stores that lined the street.

As she sat on a nearby bench, her alarm for her medication blared from her purse, causing her to sigh with irritation. She took out all her bottles of medicine and a bottle of water, struggling slightly to unscrew the tops. She downed each pill she needed with water and put the bottles back in her purse. When she looked up, she noticed people passing by giving her odd looks, which made her feel self-conscious. She sat there for a moment, trying to gather herself before heading into the store.

Suddenly, she heard a low chuckle and smelled cigarette smoke coming from next to her, causing her to cough. The person's laughter only grew stronger.

"Ya know, they probably think you're a junkie, darlin'," the person said next to her. (Y/N) snapped her head up to see who had said that. It was an older man, much older than the one she had encountered at the station the other day, Ed. He appeared to be in his mid-forties and was much taller than Ed. His features were sharp and angular, with tired, sunken eyes, prominent cheekbones, and a long, pointed nose. His face was marked with old scars, giving him the look of a crow watching its prey. His dull chestnut-colored eyes narrowed at her through small wire-rimmed glasses, looking (Y/N) up and down with a predatory gaze as he exhaled more smoke from his cigarette.

He had brunette-colored hair that appeared to be slicked back in an attempt to look professional, but random strands stuck out making it look unruly, allowing (Y/N) to see the highly prominent gray hairs intermingling with the others. He had a 5 o'clock shadow caressing his chin, jaw, and lower neck. Unlike the man she had encountered the day before, his facial hair was not as well-kept, almost turning into a full-grown beard but not quite.

Wrinkles creased his forehead, revealing the signs of age on his sickly pale skin. He wore a grey business suit with a brown and orange checked cardigan, a button-up shirt, and a black tie. His khakis were held up by a belt with a large rusted buckle in the center. In his left arm, he carried a worn-out leather briefcase. (Y/N) couldn't help but chuckle internally as they noticed his shoes. Cowboy boots? They questioned, taking a closer look to confirm their observation. Yep, cowboy boots.

Despite his worn-down appearance, the man was actually quite handsome in an odd way. He reminded (Y/N) of the older men who would leave their fancy office jobs at 8pm sharp every day at the small bar called Half Moon Dive that she worked at as a waitress back home. The bar had been a hole in the wall to say the least, and the regulars who came in at that time always had deep southern accents, just like the gentleman standing before (Y/N). Still dressed in nice business attire, complete contrast to (Y/N)’s ragged waitress uniform but they always had on some kind of cowboy hat, ridiculously large belt, or cowboy boots on, but never all three on at the same time. It was odd but equally amusing to (Y/N).

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow at the man, giving him an accusatory look. "Excuse me? What did you just say to me?"

"I said they probably thought you were a junkie," he repeated, speaking louder and more sternly, a smirk forming on his face.

"What would give them that impression? Or is that just your impression?" (Y/N) asked, their voice filled with anger.

"Not my impression at all, sugar. I'm just making an assumption based on the three groups that have walked by and gossiped and looked at you like a bunch of old biddies with nothing better to do. And here you are, sitting on this bench, popping pills on a Monday afternoon like it's just another day at the office. And is that a bathing suit you're wearing?" He questioned, the smirk on his face widening as he let out a low chuckle, exhaling smoke in the process.

The second-hand smoke filled (Y/N)'s lungs, causing them to hack and wheeze. They scrunched their face in distaste, fanning away the smoke with their hand. "Well, maybe don't make assumptions at all. It's rude, especially since you don't know me. And I'm not a junkie! Jackass..." (Y/N) mumbled, preparing to leave the bench and escape from this stranger's presence. But before they could go, they heard the man call out to them.

"Hm, well maybe not, but you seem... afraid of people making that assumption about you, yes?" he said, his tone low and menacing, causing (Y/N) to freeze in their tracks. Unfortunately, the man was right. It was one of the many fears and insecurities they had. Ever since being diagnosed with epilepsy, they had always tried to do the right thing and prioritize their health. But the constant fear of judgment and assumptions then made them feel lonely, which they where afraid of as well.

Lost in their thoughts, (Y/N) didn't realize they had been standing there, staring at the man until he spoke again. "Am I correct?" he asked, his voice flat but with an undertone of the same malicious intent from earlier, a tone that (Y/N) couldn't shake off. "You don't like people making assumptions about you, and it makes you lonely. And you don't like that either, do you?" Taking another drag of his cigarette, exhaling the smoke in (Y/N)’s face causing her to hack and wheeze, his smug look never leaving his face.

This revelation both shocked and frightened (Y/N). That this stranger was able to read them like an open book. Causing anger to surge through them once again. "Oh, fuck you! You don't even know me!" they spat, feeling self-conscious as people walked by, nosely observing the scene. The man chuckled and shook his head. "So, I'm right... You're cute when you're scared, darlin'," he commented, causing (Y/N)'s cheeks to burn with embarrassment and anger. "Stop calling me that! And who do you think you are? Some kind of doctor to tell me that kind of bullshit?!”

Jon looked around for a moment, contemplating how to answer the question, but his smirk remained on his face. "Well... yes, technically I am a psychiatrist," he said teasingly. "And what do you not want me to call you? Darlin'? Sugar? Princess?" he added, trying to suppress a laugh.

(Y/N) got up and started walking away from the man who was harassing her, only to hear footsteps following her from behind, causing her to quicken her pace. Suddenly, she felt a hand wrap around her arm, making her whip her head around to see the same man from earlier stopping her in her tracks. He looked at her now with a matching irritated expression, his hand still gripping her arm tightly. (Y/N) tried to pull away, desperately pleading, "Let me go! Let me go!"

Jon loosened his grip slightly, snapping at her, "Hey! What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Wrong with me?! What the hell is wrong with you, harassing people on the street!" she spat, shoving the man off her. He fell back harshly onto the sidewalk. Instantly, a sense of regret washed over (Y/N) as she looked at the man wincing on the ground, unaware of her own strength.

"Shit, shit, shit, I'm so sorry. I-" she started, but Jon cut her off. "It's fine..." he snapped, glaring at her. He attempted to get up but failed. (Y/N) sighed, ignoring his protests, and helped him up, guiding him back to the bench she was previously sitting on. She took out some wipes from her purse and gently cleaned the blood from his lip and forehead, which had come from his encounter with the pavement. The smell of alcohol on his breath wafted over her, causing her to scrunch up her nose, but she continued to care for him, as she had been taught by her parents to always help others, regardless of the situation.

Jon went quiet for a moment, his cheeks turning a soft pink as (Y/N) continued to clean him up. He then realized that he had been an ass to her, and his pride, mixed with the alcohol he had consumed earlier, had gotten the better of him. He chuckled internally, remembering how he had met Ed, something along the lines of a similar situation. The exception to that introduction was, Jon explicitly remembered a metal cane coming into contact with his head due to his actions, which he regretted very much.

He had been completely wasted at the Ice Burg Lounge, unsure of how long he had been there. Hours? Days, perhaps? His drinking had reached an all-time high after being released from Arkham about a year ago. He couldn't find any work, as no one wanted to hire a well-known criminal, and any illicit work he could find was already on Batman's radar. He had received news that his grandma, Keeny, had finally passed away, which meant he was now the sole owner of the Keeny estate. However, he had no desire to deal with it, and in order to sell it, he would have to return home, a place filled with unpleasant memories. To top it all off, his pet bird, Icky, had also died while he was in Arkham.

It was the cherry on top of his shit cake he thought to himself. Even though Icky was just a bird, he had been Jon's friend since childhood. So he drank, and drank, and drank, something he hadn’t done since he left home and moved to Gotham, neglecting to take the medication prescribed to him by Arkham. Then Ed came along, needing help with his own work, and Jon's first impression was far from stellar, thanks to his intoxicated state. Yet, Ed kept coming back, and they had been together for almost three years. Ed had managed to put up with Jon's bullshit and almost helped him get sober. Almost being the key word.

So as (Y/N) sat there, fretting over him despite all he had done to them, Jon couldn't help but laugh. She was too kind for her own good. Ed was right; she had a sweet soul. And now he felt guilty for what they were going to put her through. But being the stubborn man he was, Jon would never admit that to himself or anyone else. They would have to beat it out of him first.

"Is that better?" (Y/N) asked, her wide (Y/C/E) concerned eyes fixed on Jon. He felt a wave of warmth wash over him,causing him to curse under his breath. "I'm sorry?" (Y/N) questioned, straining to hear Jon's muttered curse. Panicking, Jon looked around desperately, searching for a way to cover up his slip-up. "I-I mean thank you, that's much better... I'm sorry, that wasn't kind of me. You're right," he said, looking down at his hands in shame. (Y/N) offered him a sympathetic smile, still slightly frustrated but not quick to judge.

"Well, let's start over, yeah?" (Y/N) said. "I'm (Y/N) (L/N), and you are?" Jon paused for a moment, unaware that his cheeks were now a light shade of red instead of pink. He stared at (Y/N) before finding his voice. "I- oh, I'm sorry. I'm Jonathan, Jonathan Crane, but please call me Jon," he said shyly. He hadn't felt this flustered around someone since he was a young boy and first meeting Ed.

"It's nice to meet you, Jon," (Y/N) said, breaking the silence. The two stood there in silence for a moment before Jon started to ramble, his accent thickening as he spoke. But before he could finish, (Y/N) interrupted him.

"It's alright, really. We all have bad days, and I don't know you personally to understand what you're going through. And maybe this is overstepping, and I apologize, but just don't take it out on others, okay?" she said. Jon hung onto her every word, captivated by how softly she spoke to him. He could only nod, realizing he probably looked like an idiot in that moment.

"You're right, ma'am, and I deeply apologize. I needed someone to knock some sense into me," he said with a breathy laugh, averting his gaze from her. "You don't sound like you're from down here. Are you?" (Y/N) questioned. Jon shook his head, lighting another cigarette. "No, ma'am. I've lived here for a long time, but I was born and raised in Georgia. I haven't felt the need to go back. Up here is more my speed, I suppose," he said with a small smile, exhaling the smoke he had previously inhaled.

(Y/N) laughed softly, causing Jon to look at her with a questioning look. "What?" he asked. "Nothing. You just confirmed something for me, I suppose," she replied. This piqued Jon's curiosity even more. "Oh? And what would that be?"

"Just hadn't seen many folks down here wear the cowboy boot and business suit combo and call me 'darlin' both to be petty and nice in the same sentence," she said with a genuine laugh, causing Jon to give her an awkward smile before joining in. "Was it that obvious?" he asked, to which (Y/N) nodded. "Is that a bad thing?" he asked, and (Y/N) shook their head no. "No, it's just familiar in a weird way. It's nice," she said softly. Her comment made Jon melt even more in that moment.

(Y/N) glanced at her phone and realized she only had a limited amount of time before she had to return to the hotel. Her eyes widened, not realizing how long they had been talking. "Oh fuck, I have to go!" she whisper-shouted, gathering her things. Jon's blissful expression dropped as soon as she said that, although he tried his best to hide it. "Oh, um, okay," he said, sounding slightly hurt.

Turning back with a smile, (Y/N) began to walk away. "Hey, take care of yourself, okay? Try not to get into trouble. It was nice meeting you, Jon." Jon could only let out a breathy laugh as he watched her walk off. "I'll try, ma'am. It's a lot easier said than done. Nice meeting you as well," he said, watching her hurry off to the nearby stores.

——————————————————————

It was Jon's turn to return home that night, feeling frustrated and defeated. He slammed the door, already anticipating the barrage of questions from Eddie. As soon as the door shut, Ed appeared from around their makeshift kitchen, busy preparing a meal for the both of them.

"You know I hate it when you're always right," Jon grumbled, taking a seat at the worn-out kitchen table while the mismatched chairs creaked beneath him. "Well, I am right about everything, dear. You need to be more specific," Ed replied, his tone flat, as he fried something on the stove. "Ed, baby, please, I don't need your smartass remarks right now," Jon pleaded, his voice low, as he rested his head on the table.

"I'm not being a smartass, as you so crudely put it. I'm just asking a simple question," Ed responded, swiftly moving to the fridge to grab a few vegetables and chop them up. "You're right about the girl," Jon admitted with a sigh, instantly regretting the words that escaped his mouth. The sound of the sizzling pan was the only noise in the room as a heavy silence settled between them. Ed looked at Jon with a smug expression, as if he had won something. "Oh? Is that so?"

"Yes, Ed, you're right. I feel terrible, and this plan is stupid," Jon mumbled, causing Ed to dramatically cup his ear as if he couldn't hear Jon. "What was that? I couldn't hear you. Do you mind saying that again?" Jon slammed his hands on the table, startling Ed. "You damn well heard me, Ed. Just stop!" Jon snapped, as Ed raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright, I'll stop. So, what does this mean now, especially since you got us an extra day to do what we need to do?" Ed asked, acknowledging the elephant in the room as he resumed cooking. "Harvey and Oswald are growing impatient, and I don't know how much longer I can make excuses."

"We bite our tongues and carry on with the plan, I suppose. What other choice do we have? Besides, we've done worse," Jon replied wearily, as if he needed to remind himself not to get sidetracked. "Unfortunately, I think you're right, dear," Ed agreed, placing two plates in front of them with a small smile. "Cheer up, though. We'll get it done, everything will be fine, and then we won't have to worry about it anymore. Now, let's eat." He pushed the plate closer to Jon, who looked at the food, his stomach grumbling in anticipation. Jon glanced back at Ed with a grateful smile as he picked up his fork and began to eat. "Thank you, sugar." They both ate in contented silence.

⚠️Please refer to the Author's Note for content warnings⚠️

The day had finally arrived for (Y/N) and her family to arrive in Gotham. They frantically grabbed their luggage out of the taxi and rushed to their hotel to stay for the night before heading to the hospital the next morning. "Alright, do we have everything, guys?" (Y/N)'s father asked, struggling to hold an excessive amount of suitcases in his hands, an almost comical amount that it didn't look real. Her whole family watching as the taxi sped off. "Yeah, I think I got everything. If I don't, it's too late now," (Y/N) replied, eyeing the departing taxi.

"Well, let’s go check-in and maybe grab something to eat," her dad suggested, hoisting the luggage as the family filed into the lobby. They hurriedly checked in, entered their room, and started unpacking. Finally, they could relax after a long day of traveling. Sitting there for a brief moment to catch their breaths.

"Well...how about some food, guys?" (Y/N)'s mom broke the silence, her tired smile lighting up the room. The others nodded in agreement, groaning as they slowly got up from their spots. They were all sore and tired. They made their way out of the hotel room while (Y/N) quickly grabbed their phone and purse, trailing behind their parents.

------------------------------------------------

As they walked towards Gotham's subway to get to their destination, Atlas Bistro, (Y/N) looked around anxiously. Her dad insisted on going to a nice restaurant to treat the family before the upcoming surgery, despite her mother's protests that they should just go somewhere casual to relax. "Come on, (Y/M/N), it'll be fine! We're dressed relatively nice, so we don't have to worry about that. Plus, when was the last time we went out like this as a family?" her dad argued. Her mom rolled her eyes and sighed. "(Y/D/N), I think you're forgetting the actual reason why we're here. It's nice to get out, but it's not a vacation," she replied, annoyed.

"I know that, but we can all at least get out for a little bit. It'll be good for (Y/N) to get out before the surgery," her dad huffed as they continued walking. They reached the subway and waited for their train. After a few minutes, her mom looked at (Y/N) with a reassuring smile. "Alright, (Y/N), keep a lookout for this train, okay? It's going to get crowded, and we don't want to lose you while trying to get on," her mom advised. (Y/N) nodded, smiling back. "I think I'll be fine, Mom. Don't worry," she said, trying to comfort her mother.

As (Y/N) looked around the crowded station, her nerves spiked. She hoped she wouldn't lose her parents in the chaos. The loudspeakers crackled, and a voice announced that the train would soon be boarding. As the headlights of the train could be seen from a distance, the train came to a screeching halt as its doors flew open. Everyone in the station rushed to get on, disregarding personal space. (Y/N) tried to squeeze through the crowd, shoving and squeezing through others. However she lost sight of her parents in the sea of people. She called out to them, but they were too far gone. "Wait! Wait! Mom, Dad, please wait!" she cried out, watching in slow motion as the train departed, leaving her alone in the station. Panic washed over her as she wondered what to do and where to go.

She found a bench and sat down, frantically looking around for a solution. Should she walk to the restaurant? No, it was too far, and it was dark outside. Maybe she could go back to the hotel? But her dad had the check-in pass and room key. The hotel wouldn't let her in without them. "Fuck!" she screamed, tears welling in her eyes as she gripped her dress out of frustration.

As she sat there, a noise caught her attention. She was now the only one in the station, and she heard footsteps and the sound of what she thought to be a cane accompanying them. A figure emerged from the shadows at the far end of the station. It was a man, tall and slender, with an awkward yet attractive build. (Y/N) observed him, noticing his green button-up coat, matching dress pants, and pristine leather shoes. He wore a white button shirt with a striped green tie, and a dark green bowler hat and mask completed his ensemble. The cane he carried was large and eccentric, with a polished gold handle shaped like a question mark. His clothes were perfectly pressed, and his appearance piqued (Y/N)'s curiosity. She thought the attire to be odd for everyday wear. Making her nerves even more shot as he approached her.

His ghostly pale skin contrasted with rosy-colored cheeks adorned with freckles. His deep auburn hair, slicked back under his hat, revealed a few gray strands. A slight 5 o'clock shadow graced his chin and jawline, and his bright caramel-colored eyes gleamed behind the mask. She watched as the man smiled at her, his teeth white and pristine. He played with the cane in his hand, and she noticed how long and slender his fingers were, adorned with gold rings and a nice watch on his wrist. He appeared to be at least ten or eleven years older than her, possibly in his early to mid-thirties.

"You seem lost," the stranger finally spoke up to her. (Y/N) hesitated, unsure if she should be speaking to him at all. Gotham's crime rate was notorious, and this man could potentially harm her. However, in a moment of desperation, she finally spoke up, nodding her head in agreement. "I-I am... I lost my parents while trying to get on the train, and I don't know what to do." She admitted, feeling tears welling up in her eyes.

The stranger offered her a kind, yet oddly sinister smile, but she brushed it off, thinking it was just his natural smile. "There, there, let's not fret, hm? Now, riddle me this, dear. What is long, multi-ton, goes long distances, is large, returns home, and then makes its way again?" The man asked, making (Y/N) look at him in confusion. "Huh?" She wiped away the tears on her cheeks, trying to think of an answer to the riddle. "A train? I'm sorry, I'm not very good at these." Just as she answered, the next train arrived, screeching to a halt like the previous one.

The man's smile widened as she answered his riddle correctly. He helped the young woman up off the bench, extending his hand to her. "Precisely! Now come on." He said, and (Y/N) tentatively took hold of his hand. "Thank you... uh, Mr...?" (Y/N) realized the man never introduced himself.

"Nygma, Edward Nygma, but please call me Ed. Everyone does," he replied with a smile. (Y/N) smiled back, walking towards the train as its doors began to open. "Oh! Well, thank you so much, Mr. Nygma. I really appreciate it." Edward waved her off, puffing out his chest slightly with pride. "Oh, please don't mention it. I hardly did anything."

"No, seriously, thank you... um, do you know how to get to Atlas Bistro after we get off the train here?" (Y/N) asked, looking up at Ed with doe-like eyes. Ed casually explained the directions, as if it were a simple task like doing laundry. "Oh, it's easy. Once you get out, keep straight on 45th street, then take a left on Abastfered Blvd. It should be on the top floor of a large building called Unison Lookout. Can't miss it."

(Y/N) fidgeted, unsure of how to ask the next question on her mind. "I-I'm so sorry to bother you with this, but I genuinely have no idea where those places are, and I'm scared of getting lost again. Do... Do you mind taking me there?"

"Hm, you don't say?" Ed smirked at her as if he knew something she didn't. "I'm sorry, really, you don't have to if you don't want to. I'm not from here, and this entire place confuses the hell out of me," (Y/N) sheepishly admitted.

"Ah! Not a local, I see... could've fooled me," Ed mumbled to himself. "And no, I don't mind at all, Ms...?" He asked for her name. "Oh! I'm so sorry, how rude of me. I'm (Y/N), (Y/N) (L/N)," she said with a sweet smile and kind eyes. Ed's cheeks flushed slightly, and he turned his head slightly away from her. Making (Y/N) a little curious, but she didn't press the issue.

"Well, we best be on our way so we don't miss this train either," Ed said, escorting her inside the train as they sat together. For most of the ride, they sat in silence, unsure of what to say to each other. (Y/N) could feel Ed's eyes on her occasionally, making her feel smaller than she already was. "So, what brings you to Gotham, then?" He finally broke the silence.

"Hm? Oh, well, I'm here to have a surgery of sorts done," (Y/N) replied. Ed raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "Sounds serious. Why aren't you having it done at home?" He inquired, making (Y/N) look down at the ground, struggling to find the words to answer his question. It was such a deeply personal matter.

"I, uh, well, it's a bit of a long story," (Y/N) began nervously.

"Try me," Ed said flatly, his curiosity piqued.

"Well, I have a medical condition, epilepsy, to be precise. I've been taking medication for years, but in the last few years they haven’t been working. I’m not sure if it’s because I’m on so many and I’m growing a tolerance to them? Or my condition is growing worse? All I know is after failing more than three medications, the doctors said I qualified for surgery that could potentially help. Unfortunately, there were no doctors in my hometown who could perform the procedure, so my family and I came here," she explained, ending her small rant with a shy smile. She looked up at Ed, who seemed deep in thought.

"I'm sorry. That must be very difficult for you," Ed said, his tone genuine and sympathetic, his ego and nerves seemingly forgotten.

"It's alright, really. I'm used to it, I suppose," (Y/N) replied with a weak smile, feeling the tension growing between them.

"I see. And how long have you had this condition?" Ed asked, sounding almost guilty.

"Oh, well, I suppose since I was a child, around middle school. I'm twenty-one now," she said nonchalantly, observing as Ed pulled out a Rubik's cube from his pocket and effortlessly solved it within minutes.

"Wow, you're really good at that. Who taught you?" she asked, bewildered and curious.

"I taught myself the patterns. Solving things helps calm me," Ed replied, tapping his foot rapidly on the ground. Sensing his restlessness, (Y/N) asked if he was alright.

"I'm fine. It's nothing you need to concern yourself with," Ed snapped, making her look at him like a kicked puppy.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I was just worried about you. You seemed stressed," she apologized, her concern evident.

Ed sighed, guilt and anxiety building within him. "I'm fine. You hardly know me, so you shouldn't worry," he said, trying to make it seem as though he was unaffected. (Y/N) simply nodded, and the silence returned. The train soon arrived at their destination, and Ed escorted (Y/N) to the Unison Lookout building. During the entire walk, they didn't exchange a word, but (Y/N) could feel Ed's eyes on her. Making her anxiety return somewhat but she tried to brush it off.

As they entered the bustling city, (Y/N) marveled at the bright lights, colorful billboards, cars, and skyscrapers. The sounds and smells overwhelmed her, but she found it exciting. It was an entirely different world compared to what she was used to. Ed, on the other hand, couldn't help but think drastically differently from (Y/N) about Gotham. To him, it was loud, obnoxious, and grimy, the people were dirt and untrustworthy, and every little imperfection drove him insane. However, the only thing that caught his attention at that moment was (Y/N). Her gentle presence made his heart race, untouched by the darkness of Gotham. She made him feel things he hadn't felt in a long time, for anyone the only exception being Jon. But neither Jon nor Ed acted this way, not towards others or each other, which made him feel sick to his stomach, knowing that she was part of their plan.

"Well, we're here!" Ed exclaimed as they stood in front of the Unison Lookout building.

"Thank you, Mr. Nygma. I really appreciate it," (Y/N) said with a smile that both disgusted and captivated Ed.

"Please, call me Ed. I insist."

"Alrighty then, Ed. Thank you. I would like to say I'll see you around, but I suppose this is it, huh?" (Y/N) commented, a hint of sadness in her voice.

Ed started to fidget again, just as he had on the train. "Yes, I suppose it is. Well, it was nice to make your acquaintance, Ms. (L/N). And please try not to get lost again during the rest of your stay. You might not be as lucky next time," he said, trying to come off as prideful, his ego returning once more. With that, he turned on his heel to leave.

"Um, alright. Thank you again," (Y/N) said before entering the building.

————————————————————-

Later that night, Ed returned to the small hideout he shared with Jon by the docks. Slamming the door behind him in frustration to the wear house, Jon noticed his demeanor and asked what was wrong.

"What crawled up your ass?" Jon inquired as Ed made his way to their makeshift bedroom.

Ed let out a frustrated sigh as he began removing his clothes. "Oh, gee, I don't know, Jon. Let me ask you this: what the hell are we doing?"

Confused, Jon looked at him and asked, "What do you mean, what are we doing?"

"The plan, Jon. What the actual fuck are we doing?" Edward clenched his fists, growing angrier as he pondered their current situation. He sat on the edge of the bed they shared, dressed only in his boxers and undershirt. Jon, with a smirk on his face, paused what he was doing and walked over to Ed. “Wait, don't tell me the man who claims to remember everything needs me to re-remind him of something?”

"Oh, ha, fucking ha, Jon. You're hilarious," Ed replied sarcastically, feeling himself sinking into the bed as Jon sat next to him. "I'm just saying, sugar," Jon pointed out, a smug look on his face as he moved closer to Ed.

"So we just...what? We just kidnap this random person because we couldn't get the equipment we needed. Then we give the batteries to Harvey and Oswald to sell because they helped us with all this, and you keep the rest for your fear toxin experiments. And now, because we don't have the batteries, I have to figure out the coding to make it work somehow in time to what? Make sure we give this to the new senator who’s also having the same surgery in order to get a good chunk of change from him? Since we couldn’t find any dirt on him?” Ed questioned, sounding defeated as he flopped back down on the old mattress.

"Well, yes, that is the plan. Hopefully, it works. Where is this coming from, Eddie?" Jon asked, looking concerned. Ed let out a sigh, realizing how stupid their idea sounded when spoken aloud.

"Jon, do you not realize how idiotic this idea sounds? Seriously, when we say it out loud, it sounds dumb," Ed said, frustration evident in his voice. Jon laughed, oblivious to Ed's true feelings.

"Well, doll, when we say most of our harebrained ideas out loud, they do sound dumb. That's why I tend to just talk about it once and never again. Makes me think, are we getting too old for this?" Jon said with a sympathetic smile and a breathy laugh. Ed couldn't help but laugh too, knowing Jon was right.

"Yeah, I suppose you're right about that," Ed replied, as an eerie silence fell between them. Jon then brought up the elephant in the room. "So I take it your outing to…scout out our person of interest didn't go too well, judging by your reaction?" Jon questioned. Ed sighed, knowing he couldn't lie or evade the truth. Jon could read him like an open book.

"It actually went smoothly..." Ed began, causing Jon to raise an eyebrow in question. "Oh? So what’s the holdup?" There was an awkward pause before Ed felt Jon lay down next to him on the bed.

"Jon, I feel like shit for doing this... I just can't do it. She's just...so kind, so sweet. It makes me sick," Ed huffed, rolling over to face away from Jon. Jon chuckled, still confused about what Ed was trying to say. "Okay, and?"

Ed rolled back over to face Jon, anger etched on his face. "She genuinely needs this, Jon. She's desperate, and so is her whole family. And here I am, taking advantage of her!" Ed spat out, finally finding the words to express how he felt. Jon gave him a small smile and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"And? Since when did that ever stop you? You've done worse. Don't tell me you're getting soft on me now, Eddie?" Jon questioned, his expression stern. Ed sighed. "I-I'm not. I just...I don't know," he replied. Jon leaned in closer, giving him a reassuring smile.

"Get some rest. It's been a long day. I'll take care of her tomorrow. How does that sound?" Jon said, getting up to undress and prepare for bed. Ed nodded slowly, allowing sleep to overtake him as Jon returned to bed and cuddled up next to him.

The day had finally arrived for (Y/N) and her family to arrive in Gotham. They frantically grabbed their luggage out of the taxi and rushed to their hotel to stay for the night before heading to the hospital the next morning. "Alright, do we have everything, guys?" (Y/N)'s father asked, struggling to hold an excessive amount of suitcases in his hands, an almost comical amount that it didn't look real. Her whole family watching as the taxi sped off. "Yeah, I think I got everything. If I don't, it's too late now," (Y/N) replied, eyeing the departing taxi.

"Well, let’s go check-in and maybe grab something to eat," her dad suggested, hoisting the luggage as the family filed into the lobby. They hurriedly checked in, entered their room, and started unpacking. Finally, they could relax after a long day of traveling. Sitting there for a brief moment to catch their breaths.

"Well...how about some food, guys?" (Y/N)'s mom broke the silence, her tired smile lighting up the room. The others nodded in agreement, groaning as they slowly got up from their spots. They were all sore and tired. They made their way out of the hotel room while (Y/N) quickly grabbed their phone and purse, trailing behind their parents.

------------------------------------------------

As they walked towards Gotham's subway to get to their destination, Atlas Bistro, (Y/N) looked around anxiously. Her dad insisted on going to a nice restaurant to treat the family before the upcoming surgery, despite her mother's protests that they should just go somewhere casual to relax. "Come on, (Y/M/N), it'll be fine! We're dressed relatively nice, so we don't have to worry about that. Plus, when was the last time we went out like this as a family?" her dad argued. Her mom rolled her eyes and sighed. "(Y/D/N), I think you're forgetting the actual reason why we're here. It's nice to get out, but it's not a vacation," she replied, annoyed.

"I know that, but we can all at least get out for a little bit. It'll be good for (Y/N) to get out before the surgery," her dad huffed as they continued walking. They reached the subway and waited for their train. After a few minutes, her mom looked at (Y/N) with a reassuring smile. "Alright, (Y/N), keep a lookout for this train, okay? It's going to get crowded, and we don't want to lose you while trying to get on," her mom advised. (Y/N) nodded, smiling back. "I think I'll be fine, Mom. Don't worry," she said, trying to comfort her mother.

As (Y/N) looked around the crowded station, her nerves spiked. She hoped she wouldn't lose her parents in the chaos. The loudspeakers crackled, and a voice announced that the train would soon be boarding. As the headlights of the train could be seen from a distance, the train came to a screeching halt as its doors flew open. Everyone in the station rushed to get on, disregarding personal space. (Y/N) tried to squeeze through the crowd, shoving and squeezing through others. However she lost sight of her parents in the sea of people. She called out to them, but they were too far gone. "Wait! Wait! Mom, Dad, please wait!" she cried out, watching in slow motion as the train departed, leaving her alone in the station. Panic washed over her as she wondered what to do and where to go.

She found a bench and sat down, frantically looking around for a solution. Should she walk to the restaurant? No, it was too far, and it was dark outside. Maybe she could go back to the hotel? But her dad had the check-in pass and room key. The hotel wouldn't let her in without them. "Fuck!" she screamed, tears welling in her eyes as she gripped her dress out of frustration.

As she sat there, a noise caught her attention. She was now the only one in the station, and she heard footsteps and the sound of what she thought to be a cane accompanying them. A figure emerged from the shadows at the far end of the station. It was a man, tall and slender, with an awkward yet attractive build. (Y/N) observed him, noticing his green button-up coat, matching dress pants, and pristine leather shoes. He wore a white button shirt with a striped green tie, and a dark green bowler hat and mask completed his ensemble. The cane he carried was large and eccentric, with a polished gold handle shaped like a question mark. His clothes were perfectly pressed, and his appearance piqued (Y/N)'s curiosity. She thought the attire to be odd for everyday wear. Making her nerves even more shot as he approached her.

His ghostly pale skin contrasted with rosy-colored cheeks adorned with freckles. His deep auburn hair, slicked back under his hat, revealed a few gray strands. A slight 5 o'clock shadow graced his chin and jawline, and his bright caramel-colored eyes gleamed behind the mask. She watched as the man smiled at her, his teeth white and pristine. He played with the cane in his hand, and she noticed how long and slender his fingers were, adorned with gold rings and a nice watch on his wrist. He appeared to be at least ten or eleven years older than her, possibly in his early to mid-thirties.

"You seem lost," the stranger finally spoke up to her. (Y/N) hesitated, unsure if she should be speaking to him at all. Gotham's crime rate was notorious, and this man could potentially harm her. However, in a moment of desperation, she finally spoke up, nodding her head in agreement. "I-I am... I lost my parents while trying to get on the train, and I don't know what to do." She admitted, feeling tears welling up in her eyes.

The stranger offered her a kind, yet oddly sinister smile, but she brushed it off, thinking it was just his natural smile. "There, there, let's not fret, hm? Now, riddle me this, dear. What is long, multi-ton, goes long distances, is large, returns home, and then makes its way again?" The man asked, making (Y/N) look at him in confusion. "Huh?" She wiped away the tears on her cheeks, trying to think of an answer to the riddle. "A train? I'm sorry, I'm not very good at these." Just as she answered, the next train arrived, screeching to a halt like the previous one.

The man's smile widened as she answered his riddle correctly. He helped the young woman up off the bench, extending his hand to her. "Precisely! Now come on." He said, and (Y/N) tentatively took hold of his hand. "Thank you... uh, Mr...?" (Y/N) realized the man never introduced himself.

"Nygma, Edward Nygma, but please call me Ed. Everyone does," he replied with a smile. (Y/N) smiled back, walking towards the train as its doors began to open. "Oh! Well, thank you so much, Mr. Nygma. I really appreciate it." Edward waved her off, puffing out his chest slightly with pride. "Oh, please don't mention it. I hardly did anything."

"No, seriously, thank you... um, do you know how to get to Atlas Bistro after we get off the train here?" (Y/N) asked, looking up at Ed with doe-like eyes. Ed casually explained the directions, as if it were a simple task like doing laundry. "Oh, it's easy. Once you get out, keep straight on 45th street, then take a left on Abastfered Blvd. It should be on the top floor of a large building called Unison Lookout. Can't miss it."

(Y/N) fidgeted, unsure of how to ask the next question on her mind. "I-I'm so sorry to bother you with this, but I genuinely have no idea where those places are, and I'm scared of getting lost again. Do... Do you mind taking me there?"

"Hm, you don't say?" Ed smirked at her as if he knew something she didn't. "I'm sorry, really, you don't have to if you don't want to. I'm not from here, and this entire place confuses the hell out of me," (Y/N) sheepishly admitted.

"Ah! Not a local, I see... could've fooled me," Ed mumbled to himself. "And no, I don't mind at all, Ms...?" He asked for her name. "Oh! I'm so sorry, how rude of me. I'm (Y/N), (Y/N) (L/N)," she said with a sweet smile and kind eyes. Ed's cheeks flushed slightly, and he turned his head slightly away from her. Making (Y/N) a little curious, but she didn't press the issue.

"Well, we best be on our way so we don't miss this train either," Ed said, escorting her inside the train as they sat together. For most of the ride, they sat in silence, unsure of what to say to each other. (Y/N) could feel Ed's eyes on her occasionally, making her feel smaller than she already was. "So, what brings you to Gotham, then?" He finally broke the silence.

"Hm? Oh, well, I'm here to have a surgery of sorts done," (Y/N) replied. Ed raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "Sounds serious. Why aren't you having it done at home?" He inquired, making (Y/N) look down at the ground, struggling to find the words to answer his question. It was such a deeply personal matter.

"I, uh, well, it's a bit of a long story," (Y/N) began nervously.

"Try me," Ed said flatly, his curiosity piqued.

"Well, I have a medical condition, epilepsy, to be precise. I've been taking medication for years, but in the last few years they haven’t been working. I’m not sure if it’s because I’m on so many and I’m growing a tolerance to them? Or my condition is growing worse? All I know is after failing more than three medications, the doctors said I qualified for surgery that could potentially help. Unfortunately, there were no doctors in my hometown who could perform the procedure, so my family and I came here," she explained, ending her small rant with a shy smile. She looked up at Ed, who seemed deep in thought.

"I'm sorry. That must be very difficult for you," Ed said, his tone genuine and sympathetic, his ego and nerves seemingly forgotten.

"It's alright, really. I'm used to it, I suppose," (Y/N) replied with a weak smile, feeling the tension growing between them.

"I see. And how long have you had this condition?" Ed asked, sounding almost guilty.

"Oh, well, I suppose since I was a child, around middle school. I'm twenty-one now," she said nonchalantly, observing as Ed pulled out a Rubik's cube from his pocket and effortlessly solved it within minutes.

"Wow, you're really good at that. Who taught you?" she asked, bewildered and curious.

"I taught myself the patterns. Solving things helps calm me," Ed replied, tapping his foot rapidly on the ground. Sensing his restlessness, (Y/N) asked if he was alright.

"I'm fine. It's nothing you need to concern yourself with," Ed snapped, making her look at him like a kicked puppy.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I was just worried about you. You seemed stressed," she apologized, her concern evident.

Ed sighed, guilt and anxiety building within him. "I'm fine. You hardly know me, so you shouldn't worry," he said, trying to make it seem as though he was unaffected. (Y/N) simply nodded, and the silence returned. The train soon arrived at their destination, and Ed escorted (Y/N) to the Unison Lookout building. During the entire walk, they didn't exchange a word, but (Y/N) could feel Ed's eyes on her. Making her anxiety return somewhat but she tried to brush it off.

As they entered the bustling city, (Y/N) marveled at the bright lights, colorful billboards, cars, and skyscrapers. The sounds and smells overwhelmed her, but she found it exciting. It was an entirely different world compared to what she was used to. Ed, on the other hand, couldn't help but think drastically differently from (Y/N) about Gotham. To him, it was loud, obnoxious, and grimy, the people were dirt and untrustworthy, and every little imperfection drove him insane. However, the only thing that caught his attention at that moment was (Y/N). Her gentle presence made his heart race, untouched by the darkness of Gotham. She made him feel things he hadn't felt in a long time, for anyone the only exception being Jon. But neither Jon nor Ed acted this way, not towards others or each other, which made him feel sick to his stomach, knowing that she was part of their plan.

"Well, we're here!" Ed exclaimed as they stood in front of the Unison Lookout building.

"Thank you, Mr. Nygma. I really appreciate it," (Y/N) said with a smile that both disgusted and captivated Ed.

"Please, call me Ed. I insist."

"Alrighty then, Ed. Thank you. I would like to say I'll see you around, but I suppose this is it, huh?" (Y/N) commented, a hint of sadness in her voice.

Ed started to fidget again, just as he had on the train. "Yes, I suppose it is. Well, it was nice to make your acquaintance, Ms. (L/N). And please try not to get lost again during the rest of your stay. You might not be as lucky next time," he said, trying to come off as prideful, his ego returning once more. With that, he turned on his heel to leave.

"Um, alright. Thank you again," (Y/N) said before entering the building.

————————————————————-

Later that night, Ed returned to the small hideout he shared with Jon by the docks. Slamming the door behind him in frustration to the wear house, Jon noticed his demeanor and asked what was wrong.

"What crawled up your ass?" Jon inquired as Ed made his way to their makeshift bedroom.

Ed let out a frustrated sigh as he began removing his clothes. "Oh, gee, I don't know, Jon. Let me ask you this: what the hell are we doing?"

Confused, Jon looked at him and asked, "What do you mean, what are we doing?"

"The plan, Jon. What the actual fuck are we doing?" Edward clenched his fists, growing angrier as he pondered their current situation. He sat on the edge of the bed they shared, dressed only in his boxers and undershirt. Jon, with a smirk on his face, paused what he was doing and walked over to Ed. “Wait, don't tell me the man who claims to remember everything needs me to re-remind him of something?”

"Oh, ha, fucking ha, Jon. You're hilarious," Ed replied sarcastically, feeling himself sinking into the bed as Jon sat next to him. "I'm just saying, sugar," Jon pointed out, a smug look on his face as he moved closer to Ed.

"So we just...what? We just kidnap this random person because we couldn't get the equipment we needed. Then we give the batteries to Harvey and Oswald to sell because they helped us with all this, and you keep the rest for your fear toxin experiments. And now, because we don't have the batteries, I have to figure out the coding to make it work somehow in time to what? Make sure we give this to the new senator who’s also having the same surgery in order to get a good chunk of change from him? Since we couldn’t find any dirt on him?” Ed questioned, sounding defeated as he flopped back down on the old mattress.

"Well, yes, that is the plan. Hopefully, it works. Where is this coming from, Eddie?" Jon asked, looking concerned. Ed let out a sigh, realizing how stupid their idea sounded when spoken aloud.

"Jon, do you not realize how idiotic this idea sounds? Seriously, when we say it out loud, it sounds dumb," Ed said, frustration evident in his voice. Jon laughed, oblivious to Ed's true feelings.

"Well, doll, when we say most of our harebrained ideas out loud, they do sound dumb. That's why I tend to just talk about it once and never again. Makes me think, are we getting too old for this?" Jon said with a sympathetic smile and a breathy laugh. Ed couldn't help but laugh too, knowing Jon was right.

"Yeah, I suppose you're right about that," Ed replied, as an eerie silence fell between them. Jon then brought up the elephant in the room. "So I take it your outing to…scout out our person of interest didn't go too well, judging by your reaction?" Jon questioned. Ed sighed, knowing he couldn't lie or evade the truth. Jon could read him like an open book.

"It actually went smoothly..." Ed began, causing Jon to raise an eyebrow in question. "Oh? So what’s the holdup?" There was an awkward pause before Ed felt Jon lay down next to him on the bed.

"Jon, I feel like shit for doing this... I just can't do it. She's just...so kind, so sweet. It makes me sick," Ed huffed, rolling over to face away from Jon. Jon chuckled, still confused about what Ed was trying to say. "Okay, and?"

Ed rolled back over to face Jon, anger etched on his face. "She genuinely needs this, Jon. She's desperate, and so is her whole family. And here I am, taking advantage of her!" Ed spat out, finally finding the words to express how he felt. Jon gave him a small smile and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"And? Since when did that ever stop you? You've done worse. Don't tell me you're getting soft on me now, Eddie?" Jon questioned, his expression stern. Ed sighed. "I-I'm not. I just...I don't know," he replied. Jon leaned in closer, giving him a reassuring smile.

"Get some rest. It's been a long day. I'll take care of her tomorrow. How does that sound?" Jon said, getting up to undress and prepare for bed. Ed nodded slowly, allowing sleep to overtake him as Jon returned to bed and cuddled up next to him.

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

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

Authors Note

Chpt. 1

Chpt. 2

Chpt. 3

Chpt. 4

Chpt. 5

⚠️Please refer to the Author's Note for content warnings⚠️

Standing on the porch of her family's home, (Y/N) propped herself against the dry rotted beams that held the infrastructure of the porch and stairs together. She stared out at the setting sun, her eyes glittering as she watched the sun’s fading hues of pink, yellow, and purple. The deafening sounds of the cicadas residing in the marsh outside her home signaled the end of summer, just as they had signaled its beginning. The pungent smell of the marsh and dirt road wafted through (Y/N)'s nose, a familiar but always odd earthy smell. She stood there for a few moments longer, enjoying the unusually good weather for this time of year. Suddenly, her alarm buzzed in her back pocket, causing her to jolt in surprise. She fumbled to take it out of her jeans pocket and quickly pressed the "stop" button. Sighing, she went inside the house, pushing open the flimsy door. She walked to her bedroom, grabbed the six different bottles of medications she had to take every day since middle school, and opened each bottle. She placed the pills in her hand before heading to the kitchen to get a glass of water. With years of practice, she swallowed each pill in one fell swoop, finishing the rest of her water while sitting on one of the small stools at the kitchen island. As she sat there, she heard her mother's voice on the phone in the other room.

“Yes, Yes, I’ve done all the research about the procedure. I still need to talk to her about this. I just… need to know what this will mean for us,” her mother's voice rang out from the living room.

Curiosity got the better of (Y/N) as she quietly crept to the living room to listen to her mother's conversation.

“Look, I-I just need to know how this is going to go, okay? Like recovery time? Cost? Do you all know where me and my husband can stay while my daughter recovers? And what happens if she doesn’t recover properly?” Her mother sounded more frantic over the phone before taking a deep breath and nodding in agreement with whoever was on the other end.

“Ok, thank you Dr. Christine. I suppose we’ll all be seeing you within a week then,” her mother said tiredly with a smile before hanging up. She turned around, only to be greeted by (Y/N) standing in the doorway of the living room, looking at her curiously.

"Who was that?" (Y/N) asked, and her mother seemed to look around the room for a moment, searching for the answer.

"(Y/N), honey, do you mind sitting down with me? I have something important to tell you. It's nothing bad, but... this could be a game changer for your... health problems," her mom said, trying to comfort (Y/N) while still tiptoeing around the subject.

"You mean my seizures?" (Y/N) questioned with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, that," her mother started, only for her father to walk in, still dressed in his work attire. Seeing everyone in the living room, he popped in with a smile on his face.

"Hey guys, what's going on here?" he asked until (Y/N)'s mother gave him a knowing look, as though they were in on something (Y/N) wasn’t aware of.

"Oh, we’re having that conversation today, huh?" the man said with a sigh as he sat next to his wife.

"Wait, what’s going on?" (Y/N) said, confused as she looked between her parents.

"(Y/N), honey, we may have found someone who can help you with your seizures. It’s not a cure-all, but with this surgery, you could have the chance of not having them as frequently. Maybe even wean off your medication since it hasn’t been working well over the past few years. You could get a place by yourself and even drive if it goes well," her mother explained with a hopeful glint in her eyes.

"I thought you said we didn’t have any doctors down here who can do that surgery? That's why I have to stick with the medication..." (Y/N) questioned, a little hesitant about her mother’s explanation. She saw her mother look at her father, silently asking for his help in explaining things.

"And you’re exactly right, hun. We don't have anyone like that down here. However, through my work, I was able to become business partners with some folks who specialize in those kinds of surgeries. They're not from down here; they operate out of Gotham City. Your mom and I did a little more research, and we think this might go really well," he said with a sympathetic smile as (Y/N) looked at him in shock.

"Wait, Gotham City?! We’re going up there?" she said, sounding more surprised and nervous as well. "I know, I know, it's not the most ideal place to have this done," her father replied, sounding just as worried. "But look at it this way: we go in about a week, stay there for a week so you can recover, then come home so you can go back to school. Who knows, maybe while we're up there, we can all do a little sightseeing too." He said with a small smile as (Y/N) went quiet, trying to weigh her options.

She had dealt with her seizures for years, and everything her family did to mitigate the situation seemed to turn into a dead end. Like her mother said, it wouldn't be a cure for what she had; what she had wasn't curable. But to have something to help her, to give her that much progress in her life, was a huge milestone. Instead of having to worry about her health knowing it can always constantly reset, leaving her further and further behind where most of her peers her age should be in life, what else did she have to lose? She thought before nodding silently, a nervous smile making its way to her face. "Ok... let's do it," she said, making her parents smile before getting up to hug her. She hugged them back tightly. "Do you think it'll actually work?" she said, still nervous about what was to come while still holding tightly to her parents. "We don't know, sweetie. We're just as much in the dark as you. But what have we got to lose, right?" Her mother spoke softly as (Y/N) let go of the two.

"Alrighty then... I guess I'll start packing then?" (Y/N) said with a nervous laugh. "I can help you if you want, hun?" Her mother said sweetly, getting up from the couch. "No, I got it, Mom. Thank you, though," she said before getting off the recliner adjacent to the couch, bolting towards her room to start packing.

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It was the dead of night at Gotham City's general hospital. Very few people remained in the building, the exception being its sleeping patients, security guards, and the few doctors and nurses working the graveyard shift. One of those doctors was Dr. Christine, gathering her things to finally head home after a long day at work. As she began to leave the dimly lit room of her office, she felt something cold and metallic being pressed to the side of her head. A small, soft but equally threatening clicking sound came from the object. Dr. Christine froze, feeling like a deer caught in headlights. Knowing right away that the object against her head was a gun.

She then heard loud footsteps from behind her, accompanied by the sounds of what could be a cane, though she wasn't sure. "Riddle me this, doctor. I am always around but unseen. I am often avoided but never outrun. I could find you at the end of the road or even the next corner. What am I?" The person behind her questioned, finally getting close enough to see that it was the Riddler himself. Dr. Christine visibly shook with fear. "Aww, come on. You're not even going to try and attempt to answer? That's just pitiful. How about I give you a hint, hm? It's what you'll be if you don't cooperate," said Edward, giving her a malicious grin.

"What do you want from me?" she breathed out, almost inaudible due to how frightened she was, as Edward paced around her with a smirk on his face. "Oh, no, no, no. It's not just what I want, doctor. It's what my associate and I both want. Think of it as you paying us back for the last time we helped you out with something. Does that sound good? What do you think, Jon?" Dr. Christine turned her head slightly to see who was holding the gun to her head, curious about the Riddler's comment. Her eyes widened when she saw the Scarecrow.

"Why, I think that's a mighty fine idea, Eddie, especially since we wouldn't want Dr. Christine here to lose her comfy little job she's got over here, over the favor she came to us for last time, now would we?" Dr. Christine couldn't see the Scarecrow's expression behind his mask, but she knew he said it with just as much of a malicious smirk as the Riddler had on his face.

"Oh gosh, you are so right about that, Jon. Thank you for reminding me," Edward said before letting out a low chuckle. "What do you want?" Dr. Christine repeated, this time a little less frightened, trying to muster up some confidence. "We're so glad you asked, darlin'," Jonathan said as he slowly pulled the gun away from Dr. Christine's head as he knew she was ready to talk business. "We heard that your department has developed some real new fancy equipment for the surgeries y'all do around here. It has piqued the interest of me and my partner. We were wondering if you could, perhaps, let us borrow? That equipment and we'll be on our way," said Jon, his tone laced with a hint of malice.

Dr. Christine's eyes darted back and forth between the two, unsure of how to handle the situation. "I-I can't do that," she stammered. Edward then cornered her, his eyes filled with a manic rage. "And why can't you do that, doctor?" he demanded. Dr. Christine felt trapped, like a cornered animal. She took a moment to gather herself before speaking again. "We already have the new equipment assigned to patients who are scheduled for surgeries in a matter of days. We're conducting tests to compare the new equipment with the old. Hell some patients are already here recovering. We can't just take it away; it's not possible."

Edward seemed to ponder her words as he moved away from her, pacing around the room. Dr. Christine, growing increasingly frustrated, couldn't help but question them. "Besides, aren't you two in contact with the Hatter for this kind of thing?" she asked. Jon, leaning against the wall, replied smoothly as he fiddled with the gun in his hand, "Well, ya see, doc, what we're aiming to achieve here isn't really in our acquaintance Jervis's expertise. Although he worked in a similar field as you, we already asked him and this was a bit too much for him."

Dr. Christine's anger started to rise. "So then what makes you think the two of you can handle this equipment for... I don't even want to know what you're planning to do," she said angrily. Edward grinned at her, his smile fake. "Oh, that's the fun part, doctor. You're going to help us, if you want to keep your job and your life," he declared. "I suggest you think about your answer quickly, otherwise those things may come to an end sooner than you think."

Dr. Christine stood there, feeling as though time had come to a standstill. She weighed her options, contemplating whether to do the right thing or what might ultimately save her life. After a moment, she let out a defeated sigh, nodding her head. "Fine. The only option you have is to take it from one of the patients currently here, and we'll go from there. The patient files are on my desk; choose whichever one you like," she said in a monotone voice, watching as the two made their way to her desk to grab the files.

"Thank you kindly, Dr. Christine, for cooperating with us tonight,we’ll be keeping in touch." Jon said as they left just as quickly as they had arrived, leaving Dr. Christine alone with her thoughts.

Hey everyone! Before I dive into sharing the first few chapters of my fanfic, I wanted to take a moment to chat with you all. First off, I really hope you enjoy this story! It's not finished yet, and it's my first more official fanfic ( at least the first one that hasn’t fallen through, we'll go with that, lol 😅). I don’t post super frequently because school has been a real hindrance when it comes to consistently writing chapters, so I won’t be able to churn them out all the time. Just a heads-up, that applies to all my future fics too—sorry, I can’t constantly keep them coming! 😞

Also, I want to mention again that this fic will still be available on my AO3 account, but it’s set to private, so you’ll need an account to check it out. Future chapters will be cross-posted here and there, so no worries!

This story means a lot to me. I started writing it during a tough time when my medical issues got worse, and it became a way for me to vent. My experiences have really shaped my passion for writing for disabled readers in general, as I want to show some love and representation for people with similar neurological disorders, like epilepsy and being neurodivergent, which are just two of many things I deal with daily as a disabled writer and artist. I rarely see these experiences represented in stories, so it really inspired me to write, focusing my x reader fics on disabled and neurodiverse characters. In this one, the reader has epilepsy and all the fun that comes with it, and it’s about navigating life with these conditions.

However if my content doesn’t sit well with you, especially regarding the representation of disabled characters and the deeper subjects that come up, I encourage you to skip the fic and move on. There’s absolutely no need to leave negative comments. I also write more “dead dove” content, both sexual and non-sexual, so I’ll include specific warnings below for this fic since it’s my first time posting like this on Tumblr, and I’m still figuring out the tagging system and layout 😅. And honestly I hate the limit the tags have. So that being said I’ll do my best to provide as many warnings as possible, and I plan to add broader warnings in the master list later. (Also all the original tags and warnings are provided a plenty on AO3 as well.)

But seriously, if my content doesn’t resonate with you, just don’t engage! It’s that simple.

And lastly, I’m excited for you all to read this! It features one of my favorite ships: Jonathan Crane x reader x Edward Nygma (yep, there’s already some pre-established Scriddler action!). Also autistic and trans Riddler anyone? with she/they reader who’s bi? no? 👀 ok cool! 🤣 (this fic is so horribly self indulgent I’m sorry lol.)

Anyway without further ado, I hope ya’ll enjoy! 💕

⚠️WARNINGS⚠️

• Canon-typical violence (including physical confrontations, threat, injury, hostage situations)

• Mental health issues and breakdowns as well as medical trauma mention (including depiction of mental illness, disability, seizures, paranoia, suicidal thoughts, self-harm)

• Disability representation (disabled reader, epileptic reader, autistic character, reader experiences ableism)

• Sexual content (including rough sex, BDSM elements, threesomes, kink exploration: breathplay, breeding kink, innocence kink, master/pet dynamics, sir kink, scent kink, voice kink, choking, spanking, knifeplay, bloodplay, degradation kink, praise kink, overstimulation, size kink, dacryphilia, sadism, masochism, corruption kink, medical kink, medical play, body worship, use of riddles/puzzles during sex)

• Non-consensual or dubious consent themes (kidnapping, Stockholm Syndrome, consensual non-consent, nonconsensual bondage, grooming, drugged sex, sexual abuse)

• Power imbalance dynamics (dom/sub relationships, master/pet/sir themes)

• Semi-public and unconventional sex settings (phone sex, use of sex toys, semi-public encounters, exhibitionism, bathroom sex, shower sex, hidden cameras)

• Rough physicality (rough kissing, rough body play, rough oral sex, biting, facials, anal fingering, hand jobs, blow jobs, dry humping)

• Age gap relationships (older man/younger woman, taboo older-younger relationship)

• Polyamory and multiple partner relationships

• Representation of LGBTQ+ identities/toxic LGBTQ+ couple rep (bisexual characters, trans character, bisexual reader)

• Light bondage and BDSM (restraints, gags, consensual but not safe or sane)

• Protective/possessive behavior from love interests (again it gets messy and toxic cause I live for drama! 😂)

• Toxic and abusive relationship dynamics (emotional manipulation, emotionally abusive relationship, psychologically abusive relationship, situational humiliation, mindfuck)

• Substance abuse (alcoholism, smoking, alcoholic Jonathan Crane)

• Use of fear toxin in intimate situations

• Fluff and Angst themes (emotional highs and lows, romantic tension, emotional hurt, hurt/comfort, hurt no comfort, whump, reader whump, comfort/hurt, self-hatred, touch starved, someone help reader, reader insert has issues, but reader is resilient lol)

• Slow burn romantic progression

• Aftercare scenes

• Occasional brief OC (original character) appearances for plot progression

• Work in progress

• Dead Dove: Do Not Eat (contains dark themes - read tags & warnings carefully)

Hey, everyone! I just wanted to take a moment to introduce myself. I’m Ruby! I’ve been a fanfiction writer for a little over three and a half years now. Life has kept me busy with school, so I haven’t been able to write as much as I’d like, but I’m hoping to change that soon!

I’ve always shared my stories on AO3, but with the recent news about the site being scraped to train AI, I figured it would be a good idea to have a backup here on Tumblr. I’ll still be posting on AO3 too, but for now, my works are private and available only to registered users. If you’d like to check them out, I’ve linked my profile in my bio! Just remember, you’ll need an account to see them.