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Take off your mask, Prospero

Please take a moment to appreciate the first picture of my verna cosplay, specifically her red death look!

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CHOP CHOP CANON!!

Some little clown boys for u tumblr people. I have plenty more where this came from 😌

#one piece #buggy the clown #buggy the genius jester #buggy the flashy fool #buggy the clown cosplay #one piece cosplay #jeff ward #the cross guild pirates #clown #circus #clowncore

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Ave Maria

I knew you riddler fans would go feral over the pictures I got back from my photoshoot at Emerald city comic con, so here is one I call Ave Maria

#the riddler #the riddler x reader #ave maria #edward nashton #edward nashton x reader #the riddler year one #the riddler cosplay #Edward nashton cosplay #paul dano #paul dano nation #paul dano riddler #the batman #the batman 2022 #matt reeves #danocel #dano nation

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me and the girlies saying hi to each other

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going slightly bonkers over this

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-He’d be like: “wanna see a magic trick”

-And i’d be like: “That aint the only thing i wanna see… I MEAN

——

Nothing in my mind just this movie

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Yes, sir. I am a part time magician. Would you like to see a magic trick?

ETHAN HAWKE as The Grabber in The Black Phone (2022)

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It's monsignor pure-rat

summary of midnight mass

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You knever know how ignorant the media is until they fuck up something you know about

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Another reminder for all you fanartists drawing Edward Nashton!

Paul confirmed Edward is very meticulous about his body hair. He actively keeps all of his body clean of hair because he doesn't want to risk leaving any DNA behind at a crime scene. The only reason he isn't bald is because he wants to blend in, not stand out.

Of course, everyone can draw him the way they want! I just figure I remind you all that this bitch has got smooth ass legs ✌️😌

#riddlecat #the riddler cosplay #the riddler #edward nashton #battinson #the batman #paul dano riddler #the batman 2022 #edward nashton x reader #edward nygma #paul dano #edward nashton oneshot #edward nashton cosplay #edward nashton art #edward nashton writing

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The Riddler plays the most powerful piece on his side of the chessboard. (x)

The Riddler's words blared through the speakers and banged against Bruce's eardrums.

"What was it they said about cats and curiosities?"

His eyes had yet to be blinded by the neon green spilling out of every suspended screen, so they searched through the pile of pawns he's punched. Then, they searched through the one which she clawed through. A green mask was still standing, so that must be Curiosity. And, at its feed, there she was: Cat.

Now, his own heart was beating against his eardrums. "Cat!" Now, he was rushing in time with the blood. "Cat, behind you!"

"Curiosity killed the cat," he extended his arm downward.

Now, running through torned up green masks, he was seeing red.

"But satisfaction brought it back," she reached upward.

"Cat," he reached for his grappling gun. It was gone.

The Cat was back on her feet and seemingly satisfied with what she'd discovered under the mask: The Riddler.

"Bat," she looked downwards at him, but let her hand linger in Riddler's grip. Then, she revealed what she had in her own grip: the grappling gun. "I told you that if we don't stand up, no one will."

"Selina?"

"You didn't see this checkmate coming, did you, Batman?" The Riddler's words were ringing in his ears again. "Open your eyes! Gotham is my chessboard, the bodies at your feet are my pawns, and our Selina is my queen!"

"You flatter me, Eddie," Selina said, securing Bruce in place with a single over-the-shoulder glance.

"You don't give yourself enough credit, Lina," Edward grabbed the grappling gun. "You've been toying with him like a - well, you tell me. What is a bat without his wings?"

"Riddler," Bruce raged, his mind running a hundred miles an hour as his feet sank into the floor. But there was no floor. There was no floor and he was falling.

"A mouse."

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Keep reading

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the feminine urge to become a corrupt public figure so the riddler can stalk me and break into my house to straddle and kill me

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love how the batman tried to make the riddler this terrifying zodiac-esque serial killer who is depraved and unhinged enough to slaughter not only the guilty, but the innocent too, in order get his message across 

and the internet collectively went “look at that silly little guy. writes self insert fan fic of him and the city vigilante. gay and transgender. proud rat owner. yeah :)” 

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TW: the following content will feature animal mistreatment, traumatic experiences such as starvation, drug usage, self harm, and injuries by animals. Reader discretion is advised.

This is my official request that you all stop trying to erase edwards trauma.

They were always better together than apart.

That was what Edward Nashton had taken note of when glaring through those heavy prescription lenses at the screaming vermin that stuck their noses through the bars of that cheap, old cage. The rodents, feeder rats that weren’t meant to last long in this world, had been looking at him in distress. There’s always a bigger fish, right? That’s how the saying went?

Edward was the fish.

He still had the markings. Keloid scarring littering his fingers, his knuckles. Mostly, near his fingernails. He’d still wake up with reeling screams, mind spinning because he still remembered the pain of those creatures eating into him. What could possibly be starving rats? Well, the orphanage had massive ceilings to serve as ideal nesting space, but it even have enough food to leave crumbs for the rats. Not anymore.

If the children were starving, what could there possibly be for a starving critter like rats? Nothing, except the idle bodies of warmth, covered sweat, so deep into sleep because their bodies were shutting down. Nothing.

Edward wasn’t the only one to suffer, and he was sure that if he’d not made the decision to burn down that orphanage, he wouldn’t have been the last.

He hated rats. 

Sometimes, he’d see one skittering its little claws and bolting across the ground of the alley just outside his work. It always sent him into a panic. He'd scratch at his skin, so lost in traumatic recallings that he's scratch his skin till he drew blood.

He’d see rats chewing at the dropheads that were so high they were nodding out. Edward once had been burdened by the aftermath of a bite. Weighed down by a fever, body aches, chills, and horrible swelling. He had nearly died from the infection because he hadn’t treated it well enough. No, he was too focused on the younger kids who were left with bleeding bites all over their tiny fingers to care about properly cleaning his own. Whenever he witnessed a senseless husk of a drophead with bloody fingers, he would know.

He was sure the dropheads would endure the same fate.

How something so small, and inconvenient can leave such an affect on humanity, it was only fitting that Edward made the connection between these rodents, and the men, and women who’d ruined his life. Greedy, no good scumbags who’d sabotaged all chances he’d have to have a decent life.

Yet, just like the fever, it wouldn’t be enough to kill him. He wouldn’t let it. This was his revenge.

“Two birds, one stone.” He hummed to himself, exhaling a laugh through his nose with tight lips lifting into a smile. His fingers fiddled with a syringe. His key to the golden gates. An important instrument for his master plan.

Edward couldn’t blame every rat. He’d never have been able to handle the Feeders without his girls. He'd taken to exposing himself to the creatures only a year ago, using a practice he had learned from the brief therapy sessions he'd had when he was younger. What was it again?

"Take it a step at a time." He'd done his own studies on the method. The more you intentionally trigger your traumas, the weaker its influence becomes. A book had further shared its secrets with Edward once he'd been yanked from his sessions by his insurance, or lack of.

He had remembered reading about how the brain mistakes the past mental wound as an ongoing struggle, and therefore continues to inflict pain over specific ties to a traumatic moment and put the body in fight or flight. It doesnt register that it's happened in the past and no longer is affecting the person. So exposing yourself, while it is mentally draining, does process it and eventually it is registered as a past issue.

Some things couldn't be processed. Else, Edward would have dealt with many other issues which seem to get a rise out of him. The only thing he could do was conquer this fear, and he was motivated by the devious plans he'd made.

Eds attention was drawn over to a better, more well done cage. This one, well..

“Echo..” he whispered, “Query.”

Two snouts popped out of one of his old shirts, which had been stuffed and adjusted to cater to two rats. One, albino, the other, gray hooded and curious. They were much older, well fed, and the wiggling noses showed they were familiar with the man. 

He’d very hesitantly undo the latch of their cage, and the two would stretch, yawn, and approach together. The sniff of his hand would earn some gentle scratches behind their ears. Then, he’d retract. The feeling of nausea was only subsided by the bruxing of their teeth. The display of joy had helped his fearful fight or flight response that he'd tried to suppress. He still had the tremors in his hands when he'd been in close contact with rats. The unconscious paranoia of these two turning on him suddenly had been flickering in and out. Some days, it was intense, others, it was dead.

Thanks to his girls, he can enact his perfectly poetic and morbid plans on the ones that deserve it. He didn't fall into a hyperventilating fit. He didn't scratch at his skin, or even see the memories of his time in the orphanage flashing across his eyes like a subways windows. Did that mean he wouldn't have flashbacks? Feel dread? No, they still very much burdened him. 

However, his girls taught him that rats were truly just stupid creatures, dependent on the citizens to survive. It played into his poetic, and overdramatic view of his role in the city.

To him, it told him that he was on the right path. That maybe things were going the right direction. Maybe, he was meant to do this. Maybe, he was meant to execute his plan. After all, the process of it was healing his wounds. He did not feel fear like he used to. He did not feel like a fish swimming upstream. He was making real, genuine progress.

The screams had pulled him from his thoughts, and he'd turned away from the girls to look over the cage again. Departing from Echo, and Query, he'd approached the Feeders once more.

They were starving.

It was time.

Edward slammed his hand into the cage and a few of the feeder rats fell off the bars from the impact. They scrambled away, and he couldn't help his cackling as he paced over to his desk. 

"Let's go and get you guys your last meal." He whispered, most directly to himself. 

It was kind of funny how he'd call them feeder rats. Feeder rats feeding on a rat. Poison tainting their tummies till they keel over and die. He'd thought over it as he left his apartment with his mask, and coat tucked into a bag which he'd sling over his shoulder.

Wounds were healed, that was certain, scars are forever. 

#battinson #edward nashton #paul dano #the riddler #paul dano riddler #the batman 2022 #the batman #edward nashton x reader #edward nashton writing #edward nashton oneshot #the riddler oneshot #riddler fanfic #the riddler fanfic #edward nashton fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #edward nygma

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Riddler spying on the Iceberg Lounge The Batman (2022) dir. Matt Reeves

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reminder in the coming days and weeks to not take pictures of protesters, do not reblog pictures of protesters, particularly Black protesters