romantic yan edward nygma (any iteration)? specifically one that thinks the reader is just so smart and so sweet, and kidnaps them so gotham doesnt ruin that? also maybe throw in some cuddles. a lot of cuddles. all of the cuddles.
Decided not to specify which iteration this is so feel free to imagine your favorite. One (non-consensual) cuddle express coming up
Blueprints (Yandere!Riddler x GN!Reader)
TW: Romantic Yandere!Riddler, stalking, kidnapping, being locked up, being sedated, non-consensual cuddling (but no sexual content), stockholm-syndrom setting in, tried to keep this gender neutral (if you notice the reader being gendered, please message me so I can fix it), Batman has kind of skewed morals
When he sees you first, it's in Gotham's central library. Quite frankly, Edward Nygma is surprised he's still allowed inside, but the staff is overworked and underpaid so no one ever really notices him when he comes inside, his latest scheme cooking in his cranium. The library was a resource even someone like him couldn't pass up on, especially with how foolishly the Gotham legislators were to allow the blueprints of official building in the city built before the turn of the century to just be filed away there for everyone to see. Sure, they'd wisened up and didn't add onto them with the prints of the newer buildings - you had to put in an official request for those and that was such a headache for him, forcing him to fake an identity with enough merit to not immediately alert that Bat to what he was planning - but they hadn't bothered to remove the old ones.
Ed could have looked them up online over the libraries web archive, but he preferred getting out of his lair once in a while, smell the books, remind himself of how stupid and thoughtless the muppets inhabiting Gotham were. How stupid everyone was there except for him...and the very rare individual with more than a single braincell (he's looking at you, Batman). When he sees you first, he scoffs. In front of you on the table you monopolized in the corner of the room was a thick astrological almanac, a philosophy collection propped up against a steel water bottle, and - oddly enough - a math text book. He rolled his eyes, thinking that you were trying much too hard to seem knowledgable, figuring that you barely comprehended a tenth of the words your eyes were taking in, especially with so many different topics.
But as he makes notes on the blueprint to a building currently used as a shopfront though it was a district court once, decades ago, he can't help but keep looking toward you. He had to admit...you were beautiful and with such a soft aura...even the fact that you looked frazzled and tired and too deep in concentration didn't change that fact. Ed tries to shake that thought from his mind and return to his plans when a young adult woman approaches you. Probably one of the many ants attending Gotham's college or university that thought themselves smarter than the average when they were hardly any different.
Ed is good as eavesdropping, always has been. Attuned to listening to quiet sounds as well as having learnt how to read lips early on. His pupils dilate just slightly as he finally comprehends what you were doing. The young woman thanked you for reading and correcting an essay on proof of a certain mathematical formula she needed for class and you gave her a tired smile, told her that you were always happy to help and that she did good work (even though Edward saw just how much red was pencilled over the original text). Once the woman left, you closed the math textbook with a sigh, rubbed your eyes and got up - leaving towards a nearby coffee machine.
As he leaves the library, blueprints long forgotten (and not correctly stored away in his hurry), Edwards hand clench around his cellphone, having to physically remind himself to be patient. To not immediately start staring at the pictures he took of everything he found in your backpack and jacket - including your state and employee ID from a local University. Once he's back in his layer he can't help but practically find out every single thing about you. From simple things like your birthday, where you grew up, your medical history, your families criminal files, your social security number - the easy stuff every ten year old could figure out in an hour or two - to a bit more intricate details: your best friend in high school, the guy that ghosted you after one date because you asked him about his preferred field of study, the professor who always gave you too much work even though you weren't even originally assigned to his class as assistant, every single grade and project you ever did in school and later university.
Everything he finds just cements one thought in his head: You were much too precious for the world. You were smart - most definitely not on his level, but why should a lion complain about a feral cat as a companion when the alternative was having no pride at all. But it felt to Edward like you were wasting your potential by helping out the students in the classes you were assigned to by control reading their works and by doing most of the professors work for them only to get paid barely a fraction of what they earned.
You needed someone to look out for you, to protect you from your own selflessness, to...care for you. And who was better for that job than Edward, after all no one else could ever truly understand you, right?
It's barely a moth later that you find yourself, dressed in comfortable pajama pants and one of Edward's shirts, lying stiffly on a large, pulled out couch in the 'you-proofed' area of his layer. Soon, Ed was sure, you'd come to your senses and realize that he was the only one for you. That you could trust him, that you could...love him. Should love him, just like he already loved you. These feelings had crashed over him like a title wave, but he couldn't find himself caring. He embraced them, embraced you. Literally. At least you didn't try to fight him anymore, that was one positive compared to when he first brought you home. Sure, that was mostly because of the light sedative that he administered to you when he wanted some cuddle time - as well as the padded shackle to your ankle that assured that you couldn't even get close enough to the (quadruple locked and alarm protected) door to even attempt to run.
With an incredible amount of chagrin, you had to admit that Edward - Eddy, as he insisted you call him lest you want to get punished - was an annoyingly good cuddle. He somehow just knew how to hold you close to ensure the perfect amount of warmth and close contact to quell the touch starved side of yourself that you didn't even knew existed. He caressed your hair softly, whispered sweet, affirming words into your ear, and he somehow always knew how to position you to be comfortable, even when you were too sedated to even speak or keep your eyes open.
And, annoying you even further, you started to...enjoy life with him. You'd never even realized how overburdened and overworked you were, how tired and exhausted. But here, with Ed, you don't have any duties or obligations, he allows you to do whatever you'd like in the very clear boundaries you had. He gave you a laptop (though you soon found out that it could only receive and never sent, no way to call for help) and even put a bookshelf into your cell room, that he filled with every book you asked for. He didn't make you feel silly or stupid for asking for novels and fantasy books (even though he did make a face as if cooing over a child).
The fact that he was The Riddler was something he didn't particularly hide from you, in fact - during one of the almost nightly cuddle sessions (he was incredibly proud of you, you didn't even have to be sedated anymore to not lie there like a cold plank of wood) he actually explained his alter ego to you, just to assure you that if he does ever get caught and locked away (you lived in Gotham so you knew that even if he's locked away it wouldn't last for long) he had taken measures to assure that you'd be taken care of, that you wouldn't suffer the consequences of his actions. Though...as time passed, you noticed yourself slipping more and more into...being comfortable with him, more than comfortable. Now, you were excited for him to come home. Excited to spend the evening sitting in his lap, head against his chest, his heartbeat a background sound to his voice as he read out of one of the books he liked to share with you, the hand not holding the book open gently caressing you. It felt surprisingly safe, surprisingly...nice. A little part of you knew that it was wrong, that you should still be fighting and clawing your way out, but now, even when Ed didn't lock the shackle back on after taking it off so your could be more comfortable while intertwined in front of a documentary running on the TV, you didn't even approach the door. Didn't find yourself wanting to.
With every night where you fall asleep with Eddy holding you, one more piece of you falls into the mold he set out for you, and you didn't find yourself minding.
[If you ever do wonder why Batman doesn't come to your rescue, why the great detective seemingly doesn't know that one of his roster of nemesis had an innocent civilian locked up in his basement...don't bother. Bruce knows about you, quite thoroughly actually. After all, he had to make sure that Ed was treating you well, had to assure himself that he wasn't making a mistake by letting Edward keep you. But it was purely utilitarian of him, after all, ever since Edward had you waiting for him, he'd become much more manageable and less violent. He didn't behave like he needed to proof something as much as he did before and his schemes didn't include the possibility of death anymore - as if Ed was doing his best to make sure that if he does get caught, the punishment would be lenient. So yeah, maybe it's not the most ethical thing to let Ed keep you locked away with him, but...you didn't seem to mind terribly anymore and quite frankly, it didn't seem like your life before seemed all that better anyways...]
A/N: If you liked this and want to show some appreciation, could I interest you in voting in this poll? It's quick, it's easy and it's free (and you'd make me a little happier). It truly doesn't matter if you're into the mentioned fandom or not, I just want a bigger sample size.
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Whoever was the anonymus who made me realize I was missing in a classic Riddler story, thanks for the wonderfull sugestion AND for a new Edward can't sit normally pic for my colection.
"SO CONFIDENT IS HE IN HIS GENIUS THAT HE LEAVES BEHIND CLUES AND PUZZLES RELATED TO HIS CRIMES..."
PIC(S) INFO: Spotlight on preliminary sketch art of Batman antagonist and member of the Legion of Doom, the Riddler, artwork by Alex Ross for the "Justice" (2005-'07) maxi-series published by DC Comics.
ORIGIN: "It is easy to think of the Riddler as a creature of pure pride. So confident is he in his genius that he leaves behind clues and puzzles related to his crimes and dares the police to try to solve them. Yet is there more to it than that? When you consider Edward Nigma, I am forced to face the possibility that the greatest tragedy of his childhood was the presence, not absence, of his father. There is a story about Edward being caught cheating as a boy.
I cannot be certain, but upon piecing the little information still available, I have the suspicion that Nigma's father punished him severely and maliciously for this and insisted on one thing -- that from that moment forward, his son would always speak the truth.
So if Edward was forced, verbally and physically, during an age of natural preadolescent rebellion, to speak the whole truth regardless of consequence or prudence, what then?
It wasn't until his father died that Edward turned to crime. But his crimes were unique. He left riddles that, if understood, would be an admittance of guilt. Could these clues be part of a compulsion to speak the truth? Is it in response to guilt? Perhaps it is the result of a cruel father's zeal to raise an honest son. This could be the tragedy of the Riddler."
-- BATMAN, from Bruce Wayne's Private Files in the Batcomputer (script by Jim Krueger)
Sources: https://www.zipcomic.com/justice-2005-issue-2 and www.comicconnect.com/item/886358.
Rewatching Arkham Origins and E.nigma makes the point of saying that his blackmailing will end a lot of crime make the streets safer and make sure police can actually do their jobs. All batman is doing is instigating more violence and temporarily stopping things.
Like....Edward was kind of an anti-hero. Of course he absolutely had bad intentions and blackmail is wrong but like throwing fists at low level thugs isn't doing much either.
But Batman stopping him only further drove him to obsession and made him much worse as he fully became the Riddler.
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A walk alone at night probably was not the best idea in a city like this one, especially with the recent invasion and things still being rebuilt, but Barbara was never one to feel afraid or to hide. She wasn’t stupid, nor was she reckless—she just didn’t see the point in limiting herself over some imagined fears. Besides, she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, and there was something reassuring in that, as well. She pushed her hands into her pockets, letting out a sigh and watching her breath curl into tendrils of fog before dissipating into the air around her. Times like this made her miss Gotham, if she was being honest—Gotham was always beautiful in the fall.
