Warnings:Edward is a yandere, Dark themes, Physical violence, Bruce is kinda ooc, Suicide threat, Guilt tripping, Self harm, Ed is a heartbroken mess, Sleeping disorder and unnamed mental illnesses reference, A rly dumb riddle
Word Count:3.0k
( This series will extend to after the events of the movie, Idk how many chapters it will take to finish but most likely maybe around 3-5 )
~
(Y/n)’s mind was playing the memories of her pain and the sights of her deceased loved ones which only encouraged the blood thirsty beast that raved inside her with an infuriated hurricane of painful emotions; vengeance, revenge; avenge.
Her ears were overly occupied with deafening ringing and the rest of world around Ed was an indiscernible blur so she didn’t see or hear or realize Batman run in through the door until he physically lunged his arms around her torso to pull her off and away from the beaten and bloodied tittering man.
(Y/n) didn’t react or fight directly against Batman, too hyper-focused on the tyrant of her trauma. She still tried to reach for him as Batman kept her against him, surprised at how much force he had to use with her enraged manic behavior. She was like an animal. She clawed at the air with reaching arms as if she could pull either Ed to her or her to Ed. “Let me go! Let me rip him to shreds! Let me ripthatcunttofucking shreds!” She rabidly screamed, spit flying from her scowling mouth.
She tried to jump for him but Batman held her back. “(Y/n) you have to calm down!” He said as he held her struggling, carnivorous body away from attacking once again and making a grave mistake.
“NO! He deserves this! Men like him can’t keep getting away with this!” Her voice weakened in heartbreaking vulnerability just a smidge in her last sentence, excruciatingly painful to just think of the fact that women would always have to just take the pain as the men walk away with not a dent in their pride. To remember how boys at her high school would harass and make comments about her appearance while the school did nothing but blame her and dress code her.
Batman roughly turned her around and grabbed onto her shoulders to make her face him. “He deserves to die!” She raved with a snarling, furious face.
Batman pulled her by her shoulders so her face was closer to his strict one. “No, he deserves worse for what he’s done to you. Give him a fate worse than death. Let him live the rest of his long life in this isolated, disgusting prison. Let him rot away for years that will make him wish you killed him.”
The moment went by slowly as (Y/n)’s heavy breathing slowed down, her sharp features softening from the look in Bruce’s eyes. She remembered how he understood her pain. Her eyebrows curved upward as desperate breaths still sucked in and out through her parted frowning lips. Her small pupils returned to their normal size as thick tears built behind her lower lashline. “But… he needs to pay for what he did to (R/n) and (B/n). I made a promise that I would avenge them.”
It was times like this with her where Bruce felt like he was looking into the mirror of his past self, consoling her just as Alfred did with him. And now he got to speak from experience, empathy and understanding running inside him.
“They wouldn’t want to be avenged like this, and you know it. (Y/n), you’re a good person, don’t let him ruin that. If you kill once, you’re going to realize how easy it was so you’re going to keep killing until you satisfy your drive for vengeance. But it’ll never be satisfied. You’ll kill again and again, your body count will be higher than his. You’ll become the thing you thought you’d never become. And once you take that path, you’ll lose sight of who you really are. It’s a dangerous path, it’s too risky. And you’ll make mistakes you can’t turn back from. Killing isn’t the answer. What would happen to you is more important than what would happen to him. So just let him rot in misery, your loved ones are avenged by just him being locked up here and you still staying strong. Don’t ruin that. They’re proud of you, I know it.”
(Y/n)’s lips were puckered to prevent the sob that weighed a lump in her throat, her eyes glossy with tears. Her chest heaved with her shoulders slightly lifting up, her mouth opening but no words sprouting as she shook her head. “I just miss them so much… and I don’t know what to do with myself… I feel like I have nothing left to lose anymore.” She said as her voice broke through her chords, hopeless tears puddling in the corners of her eyes.
Bruce’s eyebrows curved upward behind the cowl, his heart breaking as he stared into the epitome of who he used to be. He felt like he was getting the bittersweet chance of talking with your younger self. He placed a gloved hand on her cheek. “But you do. You haven’t lost your mind, and you have so much still left for you. There’s still so many people that care about you and will help you heal. I promise.”
(Y/n) looked at him like he single handedly hung the sun in the sky, happy tears engulfing her sad ones. She pursed her quivering lips together and swallowed before nodding her head, only having the energy to say “okay, I trust you” in a breaking, hoarse voice. His sorrowful gaze lingered as he slid his hand off her face. He told her he’d for her outside the room so she could finish what she needed to say to the Riddler.
Once Batman was gone (Y/n) turned to the bloodied and bruised Ed who was sat on the ground with his back leaning against the wall. A small, amused smile was littered on his swelling face, his blood still wet. He waited for her to make the first move.
(Y/n) looked down at the man with an empty stare, anger and distress no longer gyrating in her orbs. “By the way, this is the very last time I will ever visit you and hopefully the very last time I have to look at you.”
Ed’s tiny grin faltered very slightly, caught off guard but regained the grin through denial and humor. “W-what?” His voice was dripping in consternation.
“I’m leaving Gotham, I don’t know when or if I’m coming back.” She explained simply and calmly.
Ed’s heart was thumping within his ears so loud he thought the whole building was shaking. “You can’t…” His breathing became an unstable, heavy, sloppy mess of panic, fury, betrayal, and heartbreak. “You-you can’t do this to me!” He wailed as he scampered up to his feet; he pressed his hands against his chest, gesturing towards himself, frantically.
The brief thought of imagining living a life where she wasn’t within his reach or sight instantly tore a gaping hole within his heart, a nasty cavity that sunk itself deep within the caverns of his gravitated love. Tears started to leak from under his eyeballs, his eyelids making them gloss over his shaking iris’. The tears expanded fast as they quickly began dripping past his lower lashline.
“You have no idea how much I love you! It’s to the point where I cannot grasp the knowledge of how to breathe without you!” Instantaneously, he weeped away as sobs scratched his throat raw. He took one weak step toward (Y/n) as his lamenting eyes dilated with depravity interlaced by the seams of desperation.
His hands, wrists still handcuffed together, visibly shook as he seemed to tremble from the possibility that he might never see his darling (Y/n) ever again.
He blamed his incompetence of not outwardly conveying his unhindered love enough. He regretted not spending more time displaying his affectionate passion for her, he regretted not going to extreme lengths to show how much he loved her. “Have I not proven my loyalty and devotion yet?! Is that why you’re leaving me?! Because you don’t believe I truly love you?!”
He cursed himself. He knew she had attachment and self worth issues over people in her life not verbalizing or showing that they valued her and appreciated her enough. He watched her with his own sobbing eyes how she cried alone in her bathroom and talked to herself in the mirror about how she doubted her friends even liked her.
It spurred such pain as the thought of her crying looped within his mind. Over and over, eating away at his self-restraint as he blubbered. It was foolish of him to not make his romantic, enslaving adoration clear to her. That must’ve been one of the reasons she doesn’t believe they’re soulmates!
“I swear my love for you is infinite and indestructible! I am deeply sorry if I ever made you feel unloved by me! My beloved, please forgive me!” One voice crack after another, his knees gave out from beneath him, harshly meeting with the cold floor. He pathetically crawled over to where she stood. She wasn’t phased and her eyes remained emotionless, sparing no slip of how she was feeling for him to look too far into.
“Please, for the love of god, stay with me! I beg of you! You can’t leave me! I will never feel this way for anyone else!” He yelled desperately as his hands moved up to grab a hold of hers, she fought the urge to shrink back in disgust at his audaciousness. He held her fingers in the encapsle of his naturally sweaty hands and held them to his heart.
“I promise to you, I am your soulmate! I’ll love you for forever and even after death!” He proclaimed as he gazed up at her with begging sincerity; vulnerability.
(Y/n) turned her hands so that she was holding his hands now, teasily petting the hope blossoming in Ed’s chest. She held his hands together like she caught a butterfly and pulled them away from his beating chest. She plainly patted them as she said “bye”, keeping this all as short and simple as possible. She wanted her goodbye to be empty with no emotions, learning from her mistakes that he misreads every signal.
She slipped her hands from his as he briefly went frozen in shock. She turned around and began walking toward the door, almost not believing this was going easier and smoother than she prepared for.
She shouldn’t have jinxed it.
Ed abruptly rose to his feet and wrapped his hands around his own throat. He began clutching tightly at the skin with his nails beginning to dig and the cuffs were put in a position where they pressed painfully into his wrists. His breathy wince caused (Y/n) to turn back around. Her breath hitched in her mouth but forced herself to remain stone faced, like it didn’t affect her in the slightest. She didn’t want to give him any reaction.
“I’ll kill myself if you leave! I’ll make you a murderer! The thing you didn’t want to become! I’ll kill myself and it’ll be your fault! I swear I will if you leave! I’ll have nothing to live for anyway so don’t doubt me!” He dug his fingers further into his throat, clawing at the skin that would for sure be stained with light bruises. He choked heavily the harder he squeezed his throat, jagged insanity ripping through his eyes.
(Y/n) resisted reacting and turned away to open the door, not before wiping the blood off her hands. The guard that stood in the hallway pushed himself off the wall he leaned against. “He’s trying to kill himself.” She said and stepped to the side so the guard could see. The man approached the room to see the sight and shouted down the hall a code. He ran into the room to rip Ed’s hands off himself, cringing at how bloody he was and believing he did this all to himself.
Once the guard tore his cuffed hands from his pink throat, Ed tried to lunge himself away from the guard and out the door to reach (Y/n). But another guard, who heard the yelled code from down the hall, made it just in time to catch Ed. (Y/n) stood in the hall and watched over the guard’s shoulder as Ed still tried to run to her but the two guards each took ahold of an arm to restrain him.
Ed’s breakdown was amplified as he kicked and struggled and continued to sob his eyes out. He looked like a preschooler throwing a tantrum. The guards forcibly dragged him out of the room and past (Y/n), his feet clawing at the ground to try to force himself out of the guards’ holds. He howled begging pleads and confessions and declarations of love as (Y/n) turned her back to him and walked down the hall in the opposite direction with Batman escorting her.
The sounds of struggle and Ed’s voice echoed in the distance as (Y/n) left him behind.
As much as she hoped for it, she knew it would be harder to leave her trauma behind than physically walking away from the cause of it. She gained so many dents in her mental state alongside gaining a few new mental illnesses and a sleeping disorder. She’d always feel angst in her bones, the Riddler had burn branded that in her. She’d always feel the conquering need to constantly look over her shoulder and the need to make sure every shadow wasn’t his.
She knew she’d never be the same again, at least not exactly the same. Her experience with the Riddler would affect her outlook on strangers and she knew it’d be hard for her to get back into dating with her worsened trust issues. Especially since the man she planned to marry was murdered and his murderers touch felt tattooed onto her skin.
Ed would haunt all of her regrets, haunt her future love life, haunt the shadows of the night. But that wouldn’t stop her journey to healing. It wouldn’t stop her optimistic hope that her life would get better. She learned that she was tougher than she thought and she felt that she had grown as a person. Her core values were now clear to her and she felt as if she could conquer anything.
~
The guards threw Ed into his cell hastfully, closing the door before Ed could escape when he instantly stood up. He threw himself against the closed door, his breath fogging up the glass of the door window. He sobbed hysterically as he pounded his palms against the glass, begging the guards to get (Y/n) to come back; asking them if they’ve ever been in love; asking if they wouldn’t do anything for their lover; asking if they wouldn’t go to extreme lengths if they knew who their soulmate was.
His wails dragged on loudly in strings of heartbroken sorrow, no shame and no dignity obvious through the way he prayed for (Y/n) to come back. His dramatic crying was pathetic.
He couldn’t help it, he really did feel like a part of him just died. He didn’t know who he was if he wasn’t her lover, he didn’t know what to do if he couldn’t physically show his love for her. He felt like an empty shell of a human, the completing half of his heart had abandoned him.
He was a poor soul suffocating in its own pain and drowning in its own shattered pieces. That was what caught the attention of the interested inmate in the cell beside his.
“Isn’t that just terrible?” A male voice spoke up from the neighboring cell. “Them… not knowing they’re preventing such a passionate romance?” The scratchy voice tutted.
All Ed wanted was to be left alone, left alone with his own misery. The unknown voice just pushed the knife deeper with its pitying words. No one understood him. No one would ever understand what he and (Y/n) had. The thought just crushed his grieving heart even more, weakening his legs as he slid his back down the wall beside the door.
“What is it they say? ‘One day you’re on top, the next… you’re a clown’.”
Tears trickled down Ed’s still bloody cheeks as his mouth hung open with a rueful exhale, not knowing what to do with himself in such emotional agony. He pushed himself back up and ran to the small window he watched the bombing through earlier. He planted one hand beside the window and the other on the other wall, staring outside in hopes of catching a glimpse of (Y/n) leaving the building; he could attempt to convince her again.
“Well, let me tell you, there are worse things to be.”
Ed’s lips trembled rapidly as his next inhale came out as a whining mewl. His throat choked out loud and long weeps while tears glided down his face.
“Hey, hey, hey. Don’t be sad. You did so well.”
Ed slammed his hands against the wall, his emotional state unstably jumping back and forth between despair and anger. It was like he was going through the five stages of grief out of order in an unhealthy way, the fifth stage of acceptance purposely not existing as an option for him.
“And you know… women love a comeback story.”
Ed went silent, his eyes wide as he looked up. That was the first thing the stranger said that really caught his undivided, curious attention.
He hopped down from the bed he stood on, slowly walking towards his door window so he could hear the stranger better. “Who are you?”
“Well, that’s the question, isn’t it?” The stranger paused for a moment. “Riddle me this~” Ed’s attention perked up even more as he made it to the window. “What has wings but helps others fly?”
Ed pondered for a moment before realizing the answer. A crazed smile spread across his lips as his body shifted in excessive excitement. “…A wingman.” He breathed out.
The stranger chuckled quietly until the volume grew to cackles that related to complete madness. Ed wheezed out an irresistible laugh, his hope springing back to life even brighter than before; his mind birthing so many possibilities.
The two voice’s overlapped in unhinged, maniacal laughter; the storm of Edward’s obsessive love being encouraged and strongly brewed by the psychopathic clown.
