Work Text:
Somewhere on a shelf in his disgusting apartment, there was a radio stuck on a station that played digestible hits from the past five decades. Nothing special or in any way controversial. The last thing a station like that was going to do was push the boundaries, maybe cut to a sudden outburst and subsequent rant from the present and monotone disk jockey. Nothing ever touched those personalities in terms of sudden tragedies, especially in a city so prone to them as Gotham, and they probably wanted it to stay that way.
But the person beyond the airwaves, with their lips to the microphone and fingers to the board, that was someone. Someone with a platform that they could use to spread awareness of the ever crumbling morality in the veins of Gotham’s inner system. They could do it right now. Simply cut the song and shout how they truly feel before being fired and never heard from again.
It seems that would be pointless…but it would be heard by the tens of hundreds of current listeners who just wanted something to substitute the sounds of traffic and violence that played right outside their window every hour of every day. They just wanted a little music, and now they’re tasked with forgetting everything they had just heard and brushing off the words of whatever maniac finally just had enough.
But in those few people who won’t be able to laugh it off, who would see the light…those are the ones that count. The ones who don’t make it pointless.
Gotham can be saved. Even if they have to tear it down first.
But that wasn’t going to happen. Not at that moment anyway. It was wishful thinking to believe someone would actually say “Fuck you!” to the system and start spouting about the corruption the city was built on, especially on a Wednesday.
The music itself was staticky, high up on a shelf because that was the only way it’d pick up any station. It was just background noise to help him focus as he laid out his plans, putting thought onto paper with quick scratches of his pen. Beside him on the floor was a crate of old cards, a bundle he acquired at an antique shop tucked into the folds of the outskirts of the city. He would have never found such a unique place if it hadn’t been for a follower of his to recommend it to him.
That’s what Gotham could be. A congregation of people helping others instead of leaving them to drown in the suffocating shit hole they were all trapped in. Not even family seemed to be a virtue anymore…but what was Edward expecting? Especially since the face of Gotham, the Mayor of all people, couldn’t even keep to the vows he promised on his wedding day.
To look someone in the face every day and tell them you’ll stay by their side, that you’ll commit your heart and soul to them alone, and to tell them lies spread on lies is simply sickening. Add on the fact that Mitchell did it both to his wife and the city, and you’ve got the recipe of a broken home for millions.
And all this talk from the other candidate about “real” change was just as deplorable. She could spout on and on about how they were gonna finally fix it from the ground up, and how there was still hope in the system. Edward used to believe that until he realized that’s what every single one of them said. How could you look forward to a future when every promise up to that point had been broken? How was anyone supposed to expect real change when Gotham was stuck, frozen, unmoving, unchanging?
Edward’s pen scribbled furiously, to the point he was beginning to tear the letters into the page. He stopped himself with a deep sigh. There would be no point in getting angry now. The time for expressing how he’d felt for the past twenty years was on the horizon. They’d all see then. They won’t be able to turn the radio off or simply unplug the T.V. They’ll never escape. Not this time.
Setting the pen down, he reached into the crate and pulled out a card. There was a vital piece to the puzzle that Edward was unsure of. A piece he could never interact with directly, at least not until the very end, if either of them reached it. He’d tried for months on end to get into contact with the masked crusader that haunted the shadows to no avail. It was disheartening until Edward decided it wasn’t.
Where was the fun in some boring conversation? Especially with how eccentric the Batman carried himself. Edward needed to make an impression not just to the city but to the very man who inspired him. For two years, Batman had taken the law into his own hands, becoming a vigilante that answered to no one but the moral code of honor he instilled for himself. For such a strange and unreachable figure, Edward couldn’t disagree with a single thing he did.
And he was smart, so smart! Not as smart as him, of course, but he was strong as well, stronger than Edward could ever be. They were…perfect for each other. Yin and yang. Edward grinned to himself. There was no doubt in his mind that if he had made a name for himself in the past years just as Batman had, the Dark Knight would feel the same.
God…
He pushed himself away from the desk, leaning back to gaze out the window. The club was bumping music loud enough that the bass shook the puddles of rain on the street. Outside, the city cried as it always did, its lights twinkling like angels, stuck to the dark buildings like flies to a trap. They cried for God. They cried for mercy and release.
They would get none of those things. Or, at least, not from God. Truly there was only one salvation that could save them from this hell.
And his symbol reached to the heavens and shined brighter than the moon.
Edward sat there, watching the city for a moment. It reminded him of when he was a child looking out of a window in the orphanage, cowering against the wall and wanting nothing more than a glimpse of something better. The only view it could afford though was that of a junkyard where stray dogs roamed. Sometimes he’d bear witness to their cruelty and nature-driven instincts when they would suddenly become violent and maul the smallest of the pack before eating it.
They had simply come to the conclusion that it was better off dead rather than living. That it served no better use than to be eaten. There was nothing else behind their reasoning, they’re dogs of course, but still, their way of life and survival had crawled into the foundation of Gotham’s standard morality and died in its very core. Now it was commonplace for any citizen to die because someone decided it was better off that way.
That wasn’t to say a few of them didn’t have it coming though.
Oh, Mister Thomas Wayne. What a tragedy. Gunned down in an alley right as he was about to save the very soul of Gotham before it tumbled into darkness like pearls in a storm drain. And what a waste of a bullet. Maybe if it hadn’t happened in front of poor Bruce Wayne he wouldn’t have been traumatized to the point he forgot he owned half of the crumbling city. Maybe then he would have actually got off his ass and spent a little bit of his fortune to save the ones that couldn’t go crying into their mansion, never to be seen again because they just had that much money.
He was a brat sitting on a throne and legacy that he never amounted to. He never even attempted to do a fraction of what his father had accomplished at his age. Ignorance was the biggest sin of them all, and Bruce Wayne, with his name on the very building that festered a man like Edward, was going to pay for it.
All of that reminiscing was getting to Edward’s head. He sniffed, flicking away the memory of waking up with bloody fingers as rats gnawed at them. He brushed his hands against his pants, as if the feeling was nothing more than a bit of dirt, before finally scooting to the desk once more.
Resting his head against his hand, Edward sighed at the card in front of him. Thoughts of whether or not the Batman would even appreciate his efforts plagued his mind suddenly. All his life, he had been disregarded and thrown away. Any attempts to gain the attention or affection from those around him only resulted in embarrassing failure. Who was to say this was going to be any different?
Why was Edward Nashton so confident that someone as imposing and brilliant and amazing as The Batman would even acknowledge him? Of course, the crimes he had planned were heinous and perfect, he knew Batman wouldn’t be able to ignore him. There was no possibility he would. Edward had made sure of it.
But would Batman be able to see him? Look beyond the cards and the riddles and the crimes to truly see the person behind them? Of course, he’d profile Edward, but would he deduct the little things? Become so crazed in the case that Edward would be the only thing he could think of? Was there any possibility of his obsession being reciprocated?
God…
The thought made him flush, pressing his hand over his mouth almost like he wanted to contain his smile. It was ludicrous considering he was alone in his apartment, and yet he still did it. The sudden thought that maybe he wasn’t alone made him even more excited. Any shadow could hold Batman, and as untrackable as he was, there was a very good chance he could be watching Edward right then and there.
He shuddered, letting his mind entertain the thought for only a precious moment. There was always the factor that Batman would have the city on such a tight lock that he’d keep track of even the supposed criminals, but that was just stupid to even think. Batman wasn’t watching him.
At least…not yet.
Not that he was doing this for Batman! No, that would be ridiculous. He had his motives from the first day he realized how unfair the world was. Batman was just another factor. He was just someone who would help him in the end and stand right by his side when everything came to its fiery end.
He wondered how the leather of Batman’s glove would feel when he shook his hand. No doubt it would be coarse against Edward’s skin, especially having gone through every violent affair imaginable. It would scratch his hands, his arms, his cheek…running under to his chin as the trail he left reddened.
Batman wasn’t watching him. That was a given. But if he was, he’d probably look away at that very moment as Edward unbuttoned his pants and took his cock out. It was nice to imagine how his eyes would widen as Edward started squeezing his hardening dick, hiding his face against his other hand. Batman had a whole city to save and yet he was busy spying on some nerd jerking off. It was humiliating.
Edward slid his fingers along his hard-on, his glasses going crooked as he pressed his face out of view, covering his grin. Edward had never been seen in his entire life, nothing but a face that blended into the background. When he was through the city they would never forget him. When they saw what they were up against he would be priority number one. The police would stalk for him on the streets, circle him like vultures because they knew how dangerous he really was.
Dangerous for his intelligence of all things. His weakness was apparent, especially in comparison to Batman. God, he was so strong. He could engulf Edward. The task of trying to outrun a beast like him sent shivers up his spine. His mind wandered to a scenario where he was caught by the arms, slammed against the nearest wall as Batman had him in his grasp.
The Batman in his mind’s eye suddenly became unseeable as his glasses fogged, his hand substituting his suffocating mask in the real world. Still, he masturbated as Batman pinned him. The Dark Knight had him by the jacket, fisting the painted-on question mark as his iron grip pressed against his chest. Edward’s hands slowly reached up to gently grab the fists that threatened to break his ribs, and he couldn’t help the gasp that escaped both his imaginary and real lips as Batman suddenly wrenched him forward, pressing their lips together.
Edward didn’t care that his fantasy was disjointed, his mask disappearing in his mind as Batman pulled him by the hair, breaking the kiss. Edward cried pitifully from the pain in his scalp and the loss of Batman’s lips against his. Batman’s gloved hand untangled from his locks and dragged down to cup his face like a lover. Edward leaned into it, wanting to feel his real touch as he remembered it was only his own hand against his cheek and wrapped around his cock.
Batman dragged him away from reality once more, comforting him with a kiss and a silent promise between the two of them that they will meet. It was only a matter of time. Edward would just have to cope until then, letting his fantasies keep him company as Batman palmed him through his clothes. He whined against the Bat’s lips, shaking as heat spread through his skin and bones. As his hand worked faster, Batman was just getting started, slipping into Edward’s baggy pants and touching his bare cock.
Edward barely stifled a moan, biting into his fist with enough pressure to leave indents. All at once, his imagination dragged him to a new situation with him on his back, his hair askew as Batman lifted his legs and folded them against his chest. He was still clothed, thank God, as the position alone proved to be enough to turn him beet red, his hands useless by his head.
Batman kneaded his thigh as he turned Edward a bit the right, and then a bit to the left, just looking at him as he grasped the fat of his legs and all but toyed with him. Edward looked up at him, high above where he laid. Any schemes or plans that had been on his mind since he had decided on the name Riddler and put the mask on for the first time for his followers all disappeared. He just wanted his Batman.
And because he was in control of this fantastical world, his Batman finally dropped down, setting his weight along Edward’s body and kissing him once more. With how softly he rested against him, it surprised Edward how much it felt like the wind was knocked out of him until his head started spinning. Spinning and spinning…
As the world fell back into place, everything came rushing back. The cold and foul apartment, the city and its rancid air, and the static laced broadcast from the radio as it started a new song. With his sudden dose of reality, he stared at his hand, covered with semen he had spilled for a man he hadn’t even met yet. Swallowing, Edward simply tucked himself away and wiped his palm against his pants, uncaring that it was filthy. With clean hands he grasped the card and reached for his supplies.
As the new song took its place along with the ambiance of regular city night life, Edward hummed along lowly, the song familiar and perfect in its allowance of him focusing. The Batman deserved something more than just a meeting. If Edward was ever going to mean anything to him, then he needed something special. He’d be Batman’s toy if that’s what it took to get him to play.
With a click, he put his pen to paper and started writing.
There was this letter I read
It took everything he had to not just spill everything he’d ever hoped and dreamed his future would be with Batman. Edward had to remind himself just how intelligent he was and how easy it would be for him to see right through the lines.
Gettin’ caught in the rain
Somewhere in the darkness, in the nighttime, and in the storms, there was someone who wanted everything Edward did. And maybe, together, they’d achieve it.
If you have half a brain
He grabbed the envelope to stuff it inside before kissing it. Pressing it flat against the desk, he addressed it to “The Batman”
I’m the love that you’ve looked for
With shaking hands, Edward put the sealed letter up the light. He hoped he would love it.
Write to me and escape!