#Gotham fox x reader

[gilverrwrites]

My horny ass has been watching Gotham again.

A-Z Gotham Men* and how they fuck you.

*like 75% of Gotham men: Alfred, Bullock, Butch, Ed/The Riddler, Jerome, Jervis, Jim, Lucius, Maroni, Penguin, and Zsasz 🖤

18+ MINORS DNI

Almost everything Alfred does is practiced, and purposeful and despite all his training, he’s still rough around the edges. But when he looks into your eyes, when he hears his name on your lips, all of that hardness and posturing dissipates. He tries to praise you but it comes out all muddled and breathless. So he worships your body as best he can, gently brushing your most sensitive parts with strong calloused hands, rocking your bodies together until you’re as lost as he is. Sometimes he does it with those white cotton gloves still on, and he neglects to clean them for days after because he can still smell you on them.

Bullock talks a big game, but he’s not the man he used to be. Still, what he lacks in youth, he makes up for in enthusiasm. Swollen lips kiss and suck at you, wherever he can find, his scruffy facial hair leaving beard rash on all his favourite parts. Firm, clammy hands pull and grope and guide your body, showing you how he likes it done. “Oh yeah, ooooh yeah, baby.” He pants between ragged breaths and clenched teeth, “Feels so fucking good baby, just like that.” When he’s done he wipes you down with a wet cloth and a cheeky grin, offering to buy you a drink he’s needed since you started.

Butch is big and sturdy and such a good boy. Butch is happy to say whatever you want to hear, to do whatever you want him to do, for you to use his body however you need to get off. “Anything for you Ma’.” He gets high on the scent of you, whimpers when you touch his cock, and eagerly licks up any mess he’s made, whenever, and wherever you allow him to. He’s at your service, just tell him what to do, so long as you shower him with your praise and adoration when you’re done. He especially loves it when you run your fingers through his hair, and plant your kisses behind his ears.

Ed is curious and attentive. His voice is shaky as he asks “Is this okay?” “Does that feel good?” “Is all this because of me?” His long fingers tentatively exploring every inch of you, in and out, memorising every jerk of your body, retaining every noise you make. He refuses to cum until you’re ready, until you’re fully entwined and engrossed in each other.

But The Riddler knows you’re needy. The Riddler takes advantage of that desperation, because it makes you dumb and mailable. He uses your body for his pleasure, he knows where to twist and pull to make your walls wet and tight around him. When you try to speak, he shushes you, cups your cheeks in gloved hands and coos; “I know, I know. Don’t speak. Just take it.”

Jerome is unpredictable. Some nights he’s a tease, making you beg and plead for your own defilement. It’s an act, entertainment, and you’re his favourite performer. When you’re good to him, he’s good to you, but when you’re bad, he’s really really bad. But it’s hard to be good, because he likes to move the goalpost whenever he senses you getting comfortable.

On other nights he’s clingy, and dutiful. He uses you to keep his cock warm, cradling you, swaying your bodies back and forth, inching himself deeper and deeper inside of you, and laughing into the crook of your neck.

Jervis is composed, and poised. He rolls his sleeves up and lets his hat sit askew while you ride him. Likes to watch the way you wither and pant, your eyes grow more and more vacant each time you work his cock deeper into your burning core. Likes to whisper and woo you with his sweet nothings. “Aren’t you a treasure? Fucking yourself for my pleasure?” It’s such a thrill to watch you come undone for him, especially when you’ll unravel yourself willingly.

As to be expected, Jim is the vanilla type. The quiet type, the strong and sturdy type. He makes love to you like it’s his duty, holding you down in missionary or the mating press as he hammers into you in powerful, uniform thrusts into your both coming undone, your name escaping his lips in an atypically soft whisper when he finishes deep inside you. What’s less expected is his oral fixation. Jim likes to relieve his stress by loosing himself between your legs, by licking and sucking and biting all the parts that make you flinch. He likes to know he’s left his mark on you, even if it’s confined to the places only he can lay his eyes on.

Lucius is like the cat that got the cream, grinning the whole time, every time. No matter the place or position, he peppers your skin with kisses, the curl of his lips evident with each press of his open mouth. He likes it slow and deep. Holds your feet over his shoulders and sink in until you can both feel his tip press against your cervix. Tell him how good that feels, smile back at him and he’s a goner. He likes to finish in your mouth, likes to watch the way your body perks when his cock twitches against your tongue, the way your expression softens, and your lids grow heavy when his thick, warm cum hits the back of your throat. You can barely roll over to grab the tissue before he’s on you again, ready to assault you with yet another round of smile-laden kisses.

Maroni likes a show, likes to be entertained, likes to know he makes you feel good without barely lifting a finger, he’s just that good, you know? So he lets you grind against him, or lets you ride him, nice and slow. He might play with your nipples when he wants you to make those pretty little noises, or press your tongue down with his think fingers when he wants you to be quiet. After you’ve found your release he holds your hips in a vice-like grip as he bucks up into you, deceptively fast for a big guy, until he unloads wherever he sees fit.

Penguin fucks you in a frenzy, high on your body, using you like every time is the first and last chance he’ll get. He ruts into you in short, sharp movements. He likes to see you on your knees, worshipping at his feet, taking him in whatever hole he pleases. He likes to rub his cock on your face, likes to mark you with his musk. When he speaks, it’s between shallow, harsh breaths, he begs demands that you call out his name, again, and again, louder and louder, ensuring everyone knows you belong to the King of Gotham.

Zsasz doesn’t care about your pleasure or comfort. In fact, it’s your pain that gets him off. Zsasz will fuck you dry so he can watch you flinch. He pinches, and wrenches, and grabs you like a ragdoll. He enjoys choking you until your neck is bruised and swollen, until you're crying deliciously salty tears that he loves to lick up. He likes to cut you on those fleshy, tender parts, likes to see your deep red blood on his pale hands. He loves to fuck you until you’re shaking, until you’re sore and overstimulated and begging him to stop.

[batman-dc-imagines]

J squad trying to coax your cat off the roof or out of a tree?

Gotham!J Squad saving your cat from a high place...

Relation(s): Can be Romantic or Platonic

Jervis Tetch

Your cat has this poor man stressing.

It was supposed to be a simple task at your request.

Watch the cat for a couple hours while you are out doing your thing. How hard could that be?

Your cat decided that today would be the perfect time to put that to the test.

Jervis tidied up around the place.

Read a book.

Made himself a cup of tea.

Anything to make the minutes move by quicker honestly.

When it was getting close to the scheduled feeding time for your cat, Jervis called out its name.

Odd.

Nothing.

He checked the regular spots your cat liked to be in, his brows furrowing the longer it took to find it.

He can’t find the cat.

He can’t find your cat.

Your cat.

Not good. Not good in the slightest.

Confusion turns quickly to panic

“Twinkle, twinkle, little cat, oh how I wonder where you’re at!” He mutters to himself in panic.

In the middle of all this, he hears it.

A faint meow.

He freezes in his place and listens for it again.

Another faint meow.

He follows the sound. It gets louder the closer he gets to the back door.

He opens the door and looks around outside but there was nothing.

There it was again.

He looks up and the sight he sees almost makes him have a heart attack.

Your cat was on the roof, peeking its head out and staring right at him.

He’s immediately up the stairs and opening the nearest window to get to your cat before it decides to really test out its nine life.

He’s using everything in the book to grab your cat’s attention.

I’m talking, treats, random sounds, hand gestures.

Everything.

Eventually your cat gets interested and slowly struts over to him.

The minute it’s in arms reach, Jervis reaches out and snatches up the kitty.

Let’s just say he was able to get your cat down safely.

Not without getting some minor scratches as payback from your cat.

He basically chided your cat like you would a small child once there both back inside.

He fights with himself on telling you or not about what happened.

Worried that you’ll see him as an irresponsible person.

But also worried about lying to you.

Once you get back, he’s already at your feet weeping about what happened and how it was his fault and how he’s irresponsible and how he almost let your cat hurt itself and-

He shuts up when you-

laugh?

You’re laughing.

You just pat his shoulder and explain nonchalantly that it’s normal.

Hell your cats put you in the same situation multiple times.

Now he’s dumbfounded.

Jonathan Crane

This was unexpected for him.

Cat sitting.

He never had a cat growing up so he wasn’t sure how it would go taking care of yours.

You quickly introduced him to your feline before giving him a hug and leaving out the door.

They kind of just stared at each other for a solid minute before your cat walked away.

Jon just shrugged and took a seat on your sofa, grabbing the nearest book.

After about an hour, he noticed he hasn’t seen your cat ever since you left.

He gets up and starts wandering around your place, looking in small spaces where he assumes your cat would be.

He starts getting uneasy the longer he searches.

He’s searching your bedroom when he hears a meow.

He glimpses around the room in confusion before looking up and low and behold, there’s your cat.

On top of your wardrobe closet.

“How in the..”

The breath that he had been holding in was finally released.

He goes over to the wardrobe and holds out his arms but your cat doesn’t move a muscle.

Just stares.

“Seriously?!”

He lets out a deep sigh, going to the kitchen and grabbing a small baggie of treats you had shown him earlier to give your cat if needed.

When he walked back into the room, your cat perked up at the sight.

Jon smirked at that, taking out a couple and holding them up high enough but not too close.

The second your cat reached out a paw, Jon grabbed your cat and hugged it close to him.

“Got ya!”

Your cat just scowls at him for the rest of the evening until you get back.

He doesn’t find it a serious concern to tell you considering your cat isn’t hurt but, he might let it slip out though a couple weeks later.

Jerome Valeska

A/N: If you actually want to see how he'd save your cat, send in another ask. I just seriously think he'd be the prime reason your cat gets stuck.

He put your cat in the tree.

[sharksnshakes]

Random Traits Gotham Villains Find Attractive! HC's

Love's hard to come by in Gotham City, but that doesn't mean people stop looking--even villains.

A/N; gotham has a special place in my heart and i'm making it everyone else's problem!! but yeah idk these are just my Hot Takes, hope y'all enjoy (gif via giphy)

Wordcount; 139

TW; none i can think of!

Jeremiah Valeska: innovation, craftiness, unpredictability, someone who knows what they want

Edward Nygma: self-awareness, spontaneity, the kind of person who gets up after being knocked down and will keep chasing their goals regardless of what's in their way

Jerome Valeska: grit, persistence, someone who has a unique worldview, like an artist who can see beauty in the mundane

Victor Zsasz: independence, somebody who's unapologetically themselves, isn't afraid to speak their mind, and isn't easily shaken

Jonathan Crane: introspectiveness, someone who's their own person first, the black sheep of a group

Jervis Tetch: individuality and open-mindedness, the kind of person who's a good listener and doesn't easily blend in with a crowd

Oswald Cobblepot: reliability, the friend who waits for you to finish tying their shoes while the rest of the group walks away, imagination

[finniestoncrane]

2.5k Event Request - Gotham!Riddler x Fem!Reader word count: 780 a/n: good GOD an excuse to write soft eddie in that transition between goober and... violent goober lmao i think he needs to fuck the anger out of hi cw: degradation, rough sex, bruising, forceful, lil bit of choking 🔞minors dni🔞 • masterlist • kofi link • tag: finnie2.5k (to follow or to block)

The seemingly sweet and usually placid Edward that you knew was long gone by the time he had begun to bottom out inside of you. His hands, the same ones that nervously fidgeted with his glasses and felt clammy the moment you touched them were now gripping your waist, pulling you down onto him as he fucked you senseless with a reckless abandon you hadn’t thought possible of him.

But there was a lot on his mind, a lot of tension to rid himself of, and he was apparently using you as the method of relief. A stress ball, there to take his aggression, his cruel words, the hatred he felt for you and the rest of your colleagues, all sinking into you, as deep as his cock.

“That’s right… you’ll take it hng I knew you… wanted it… Too ashamed ah… ah… to admit it in front of the others? God… A shameful little whore, hm?”

And to think you’d only agreed to a date on a whim, unsure of how it might affect your standings in the food pyramid that was the GCPD. Finally agreeing to a date with Edward Nygma if only to stop him from hovering around your desk, causing the others to whisper and point. It felt cruel to you, but it deflected some of the same cruelty from yourself. Under normal circumstances, his awkward mannerisms and neat appearance would draw you in, but the threat of becoming the focus of the adult bullies of your workplace had kept you distanced from him.

Now, you realised what you had been missing as you stared up at his face, teeth biting down on his lip before gritting together. Flecks of saliva foaming from between them, landing on his lips and your cheeks as he seethed. His well-kept hair falling down in front of his face as his movements grew wilder, faster, harder.

You might have been the object of his affections, but you were still another in a long line of people who refused to take him seriously, despite his obvious, at least to him, superiority. And while he’d been nervous at first, hands lingering on your waist as you pulled him into a kiss, he’d loosened up. Now he was quite happy to let you know exactly how he felt, his words punctuated by grunts as he thrust his hips into you.

“I’m better than you. I’m better than them all! You should be thanking me! You should have been the one begging for my attention.”

Where his fingers dug into your skin, you could feel the telltale signs of bruises forming. A dull, sweet ache that warmed your core, only heightened when one hand broke free and reached for your cheek. He cupped it, palm sweaty and hot, before he let his fingers slide down to your throat, stroking along the front of it, a threatening movement that had your breath catching as you waited for what you hoped was coming.

And then his slender, surprisingly strong fingers tensed around your neck, choking you, a strangled moan escaping with the last of your breath.

His glasses slid down his nose, and with his eyes no longer shielded by the glare on the lens, you could see deep into them, the pain, the anger, the lust. All of it accompanied by the self-satisfied and smug sneer that crossed his lips.

“I thought you’d be filthy… a little bit naughtier than I could even imagine. But you’re downright disgusting.”

His cock was buried deep inside of you, barely moving as he refused to shift backwards, only rutting into you, his head tapping against your g-spot, filling you and stretching you.

“You do like this, don’t you?”

You nodded, unable to speak, only just managing to catch your breath.

“Use your words, come on. You’re not that stupid.”

Struggling to push any sound out, you were pathetically grateful when he eased up a little, lifting his fingers to admire the red marks that were forming on your skin.

“I like this.”

“Of course you do. Everyone wants someone to take charge. Someone better than them. Eventually, you’ll just be one of hundreds that will take me for who I really am. But you’re lucky right now. You’re… special, in a way.”

His cock twitched inside of you, throbbing with arousal at his own egomaniacal praise.

“Well… the polite thing to do would be to thank me.”

“Th-thank you?”

That genial, sweet smile you were familiar with appeared once more, genuinely warmed by the appreciation he was so desperate for, the kind he never got, before he began thrusting once more in his quest to ruin you.

“You’re very welcome.”

[gothamitelove]

J squad(separate) married life headcanons 👉👈

hi anon! dw i gotcha! and sorry that this took so gd long oh my lord... i forgot this was in my drafts and NOT my inbox

jonathan crane:

makes you coffee (or your preferred drink of choice) every morning

is an early riser, but if you're not, will tuck you back in once he gets out of bed

forehead kisses are big

long, long hugs

quiet quality time. he will also read you books

asks about your day and remembers most (if not all) of the things you tell him

jervis tetch:

big cuddler fr

sometimes he just presses his forehead against yours. it's just a thing he does. he closes his eyes and just enjoys being close to you

is a total gentleman. holds doors for you and the whole 9 yards

lots of pet names (dear, darling, etc.)

loves cooking for you

jerome valeska:

the "THATS MY PARTNER" guy

very touchy. wraps his arm around your shoulders, around your waist, cheek kisses, the works

if he thinks someone's flirting with you he will kiss you Deeply right in front of god and everybody. will look up at the other person and grin and go, "don't i just have the prettiest partner?" emphasis on partner

[myds-little-corner]

arkham riddler!

[ophanum]

hi! i was wondering if i could make a request for jerome valeska x innocent!reader where they just have a bit if a poor self image and are struggling to believe jerome is actually into them? thank you!

' TWO ! - Jerome Valeska

ft. Jerome Valeska x Innocent! gn! reader

You've always felt a bit like a wallflower, easily overlooked. You work at a small bookstore, surrounded by stories but struggling to find your own happy ending. Jerome's manic energy and flamboyant personality intimidate you, making you feel even more plain.

He first noticed you because you genuinely laughed at his jokes, the only one not horrified. He finds your innocence refreshing, a stark contrast to Gotham's jaded cynicism. His methods of showing affection are...unconventional. Presents of exploding whoopie cushions and glitter bombs leave you bewildered but strangely charmed.

You can't quite believe someone like Jerome could be interested in you. Surely, it's a prank, right? You try to deflect his compliments, brushing them off with a nervous laugh, "Oh, you're just being silly, Jerome." He gets frustrated by your self-deprecation. "Sweetheart, a person wouldn't waste his confetti on a boring audience."

One rainy afternoon, Jerome finds you hiding behind a stack of books, tears threatening to spill. You confess your insecurities, your voice barely a whisper. He kneels before you, a rare moment of sincerity in his emerald eyes. "You, my dear, are a beautiful anomaly in this dreary world. Don't you dare dim your light." It takes time, but Jerome's unwavering attention slowly chips away at your self-doubt. He introduces you to his own brand of "fun," which involves harmless pranks and late-night explorations of abandoned buildings.

You don't become a villainous mastermind by his side, but your influence does soften his edges a touch. You become his confidante, the one person he can (occasionally) be serious with. In his own twisted way, Jerome cherishes you, a source of genuine connection in his chaotic life.You, in turn, learn to appreciate your own quirks and find a strange sense of belonging in Jerome's brand of madness.

Jerome "borrows" a spotlight from the theater and sets it outside your window one night, bathing your apartment in a dramatic glow. He serenades you with a hilariously off-key song about the most "gorgeous bookstore nobody in Gotham appreciates and the only handsome joker in gotham does." It's cheesy, but it makes you smile.

Jerome thrives on attention, and you, by association, become entangled in his dramatic antics. He might hold an "auction" for a date with you at his "club," bids starting with a whoopie cushion and escalating to increasingly ridiculous items. (Don't worry, he secretly outbids everyone at the last minute). You get dragged onstage during one of his "performances," his grand declaration of love involving juggling flaming bowling pins (and somehow managing not to set himself on fire).

You discover your own strength lies in defying his expectations. When he tries to scare you with a creepy mask, you burst out laughing, the sound echoing eerily in the abandoned building. Jerome, momentarily flustered, breaks character with a surprised grin. You use humor to disarm him, deflecting his pranks with witty comebacks that leave him speechless (for a moment, at least).

Jerome, surprisingly, opens up to you about his past, the traumas that fuel his madness. He lets down his guard in a way he never has with anyone else. In return, you share your own vulnerabilities, the dreams you tucked away because you never felt good enough. These moments of intimacy create a fragile bond, a flicker of normalcy in their chaotic world.

Inevitably, Jim gets wind of Jerome's newfound...stability. He's suspicious, wondering if it's a trap. You find yourself caught in the crossfire, Jim mistaking you for a hostage. Jerome, in a rare display of seriousness, stands between you and the detective, a manic glint in his eyes.

"Touch her, Jimbo, and you'll be facing more than just a laughing fit." You become a bargaining chip in their twisted game, but you also become a reason for them to find a fragile truce.

The Jim, intrigued by Jerome's newfound…softness, decides to investigate. He finds you at the bookstore, surrounded by fairytales with happy endings. A flicker of something akin to curiosity dances in his eyes.

"You must be very special," he whispered, a hint of amusement in his voice, "to tame the likes of him."

You reply calmly, "Maybe everyone just needs a good story once in a while, Mr. Gordon." The Joker raises an eyebrow, a rare sign of genuine surprise, before tipping his hat and disappearing in a cloud of purple smoke.

Deep down, Jerome craves a connection, a feeling of belonging. Your presence sparks a flicker of protectiveness in him. He "borrows" flowers from the park (with some...creative pruning methods) and leaves them on your doorstep, accompanied by a note scrawled in messy handwriting that reads, "For the most beautiful flower in Gotham (who deserves thorns, but I couldn't find any)."

He notices a stray cat hanging around the bookstore and, surprisingly gently, coaxes it inside with a can of tuna. You name it "Puddin'," much to Jerome's amusement (and secret delight).

Gotham may never be a place with a happily ever after, but with Jerome, you find a strange sense of belonging. You learn to embrace the chaos, your own inner strength blossoming under his (surprisingly) supportive gaze.

Gotham's perpetual gloom seemed to cling to you more than usual. You shuffled through the rain-slick streets, head down, the colorful flyers advertising Jerome's upcoming 'show' swirling around your ankles like taunting mockeries.

Jerome. Just the name sent a shiver down your spine, a peculiar mix of terror and...something else. Maybe it was the way his emerald eyes gleamed with manic delight, or the easy way he made you laugh, a sound rarely heard these days.

You bumped into someone, scattering flyers. A hand brushed yours as you reached down. You looked up, startled, into Jerome's face. A wide, genuine smile stretched across his lips, devoid of its usual malice.

"There you are! I was hoping you'd make it," he said, his voice a melodic whisper.

You stammered, cheeks flushing. "I, uh, I wasn't sure..."

Jerome tilted his head, his smile softening. "Why wouldn't you be? You're the star of the show, doll."

A disbelieving laugh escaped your lips. "Me? But I'm...ordinary."

Jerome's smile faltered for a brief moment, then returned, wider than ever. "Ordinary is boring, darling. You? You're captivating in your own little way."

He tucked a flyer behind your ear, the garish colors a stark contrast to your drab clothes. "See you tonight, love."

He winked and sauntered off, leaving you breathless and bewildered. You stared at the flyer, the bold letters screaming, "Jerome's Grand Finale: The Unveiling of Gotham's Most Exquisite Catch!"

Was he serious? You, an afterthought in most people's lives, Gotham's most exquisite catch? The idea was laughable, if it weren't coming from the city's most notorious villain.

That night, you found yourself drawn to the abandoned theater, a moth to a flame. Jerome's laughter echoed from within, laced with a dangerous edge. You hesitated at the doorway, then pushed through.

The scene that unfolded was pure chaos. Jerome, dressed in a flamboyant ringmaster's coat, orchestrated a mayhem of explosions, confetti, and terrified hostages. Yet, his eyes kept searching for you.

When they met, a secret smile played on his lips. He held up a spotlight, bathing you in its warm glow. "There she is, folks! The one who makes the world a little less dreary!"

A blush burned your cheeks, but you couldn't help but straighten a little, a flicker of newfound confidence warming you from the inside. Maybe, just maybe, Jerome saw something special in you, something you couldn't see in yourself.

The ending, as expected, was a fiery spectacle. But as the flames subsided, Jerome knelt before you, a single red rose held out.

"You were magnificent, doll," he whispered, his eyes shining with an emotion you couldn't decipher.

In the flickering light, you saw a flicker of vulnerability, a hint of the man beneath the mask. And in that moment, you knew, whatever this twisted thing between you was, it was real.

[kaleidoscopewritings19]

Bruce Wayne x Reader

Title: “Secrets will be told” SERIES PART 6 FINAL PART

Need a Refresher? Here are the previous parts!

Part 1      

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Pairing(s): Bruce Wayne (from the show Gotham) and Female reader. BOTH BRUCE AND READER WILL BE 26-28 in this part.

Warnings: None; I did not proofread; I quickly skimmed through

Summary of series: Bruce Wayne was captivated when he met Y/N, and the feeling was mutual. Dating turned into being engaged and engaged to married. They knew each other’s secrets and told each other everything; they confided in one another. But once Y/N follows Bruce back to Gotham, he begins to change... He becomes secretive, is he having an affair? Y/N needs to find out the truth.

The sound of beeping made me open my eyes. I frantically looked around, and tubes were in my nose, and the heart rate monitor was beeping quickly. “Y/N, sweetie, please calm down..” My mom’s hands held mine, and I turned to look at her. 

I could feel a burning sensation in my hand, and I held my hand in front of my face. The palm of my hand was wrapped in a bandage, and the doctor walked in. “It’s about time you woke up, Mrs. Wayne. You’ve been asleep for three days now; we were starting to get worried.” he said, as he looked down at his clipboard.

“Do you remember anything that happened?” he asked and I leaned back into the pillows behind me. “I-I was kidnapped... By Jeremiah Valeska, and I was saved by..by...” I started to remember last night.

“Stay standing. Don’t pass out. Just focus on me.” he said, and I shook my head. “Please, just tell Bruce I love him. Tell him, I’m not mad. Don’t let him blame himself for.. for.. th-this.”

My lungs were burning, and it felt like they could no longer hold any air.  My legs began to shake, and before my eyes closed, I heard the batman say: “I love you too...” 

“It’s okay, we don’t need to go over everything right now. But I am advising you go to therapy when we get you home. What you went through was traumatic, and I think it would be a great help..” he said, and then he cleared his throat. “But let’s discuss what is currently wrong. Your oxygen levels were extremely low from breathing in all of the chemicals. Your hand-” he lifted up my hand and unwrapped it.

My hand was red and blistered, “You will have a permanent scar on you right hand.” I lifted my hand up and the chemical burn was in the shape of a “J”.  Of course, that bastard had to leave his mark.

The doctor grabbed my hand and wrapped it with a clean bandage. “But there are some corrective surgeries that can fix it. I can get something scheduled if you would like.” he said, and I shook my head.

“Where’s my husband? Where’s Bruce?” I asked, and my mom stood up. “He went home to take a shower. He will be back soon.” Her thumb massaged the top of my hand, and I sighed.

 “Why did you go to Metropolis?” my mother asked.

“I can’t remember. I’m sorry.” I said, as she pushed a strand of hair behind my ear. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. I’m just so happy that you are going to be okay.” she whispered. 

The doctor picked up his clipboard, “Alright Mrs. Wayne. Your hand is all good to go. Now, I must advise you to get some rest. And if everything is good by tonight, I will consider letting you go home early.” he said before walking out of the door.

My mother and I sat there talking about her and my father’s recent trip, until she had to go home to clean up broken glass. I sat there staring at the bandage wrapped around my right hand. I began to unwrap the bandage and hissed at the stinging pain that shot through my entire arm. 

I stared at the raw, blistered skin. Of course, he left his mark on me. I started to cry at the site of it; I felt disgusting. I could still feel his lingering touch on my bottom lip, and the way he stared at me. I was supposed to be dead. Never has anyone wanted me dead, and I hoped that they put Jeremiah away. Because now, this felt like a game that was not going to end in my favor. 

A knock on my hospital room door tore my gaze away from my hand. Bruce stood there with a bouquet of roses. I wiped the tears from my face, and he quickly made his way over to me. “Y/N, I am so sorry about what happened. I wanted to be here when you woke up, but your mom made me go home and clean up.” he said.

He watched where my gaze went, and he looked down at my hand. “Let me wrap that up so it doesn’t get infected.” he said as he grabbed the bandages that were on the bedside table. I stared at him as he bandaged my hand, and he finally looked up at me. “We need to talk when we get home.” he said quietly, and I nodded. 

“About the divorce?” I asked, and he looked down at his hands. “If that is what you want, then yes. But I would really like for you to reconsider those divorce papers.” He spoke.

“Why would I do that?” I asked, and he pressed a kiss to my forehead. 

“We will talk about this when we get you home.” he said, and he stood up from his chair. “Right now, I’m going to let you rest.” 

An hour after Bruce had left, I had fallen asleep. 

“I want to be able to control your pain and how fast you die.” Jeremiah hissed as he dragged a knife that had the residue from the chemical down my arm. 

“Stop! Please, stop!” I cried out, and all he could do was laugh in my face. 

Slowly, he dragged the knife down my cheek, “I hate having to scar your pretty little face. Maybe if Bruce doesn’t want you after this, I will give you a chance. After all, you will look just...like....me.”

I felt a hand shake my shoulder and all I could do was scream “No! Please, get off of me!” Bruce’s hand pulled back from me. 

“Y/N, it’s just me. It’s just me.” he said, and I jumped into his arms. “Please don’t let him get me, Bruce.” I cried out, and his hand cupped the back of my head. He pulled me closer to him, “He’s not coming back, Y/N. It’s over. Jeremiah is dead.” 

I pulled away from Bruce’s chest, “He-He’s dead? Are you sure?” I asked and Bruce nodded. “You don’t have to worry anymore.”

When we had gotten back to Wayne Manor, Alfred was smiling. “It is so good to have you back, Mrs. Wayne. Want me to fix you something to eat or drink?” he asked, and I shook my head.  

Bruce gave Alfred a small smile, “I think we need some time to talk, if you don’t mind Alfred.” 

Alfred handed Bruce something, but I didn’t see what it was. Bruce picked up my uninjured hand and led me to his study. “I know I said I can explain everything, but I think it would be easier if I just show you.” 

I watched him walk over to his desk and grab a remote, and he clicked a button, and a loud sound made the room tremble. I took a step back as the fireplace retracted into the wall, revealing a dark hallway with stairs. Bruce picked up my left hand and led me down the dark staircase. “Um.. This isn’t the part where you are actually going to murder me, right?” I asked and Bruce smiled.

“You watch way too much crime shows, Y/N.” he continued to lead me down the never-ending staircase, but a bright LED light was shining at the end of the hallway. He turned to face me, “Before we go any further, please let me explain and answer your questions. And if you still want a divorce after seeing all of this, I understand.”

I followed him into the blinding light, and after my eyes adjusted to my surroundings, I gasped. A group of computers almost took up one entire wall, and a big black military looking car was on the opposite side. But Bruce led me to a glass case, and once we got close enough, I stopped dead in my tracks. 

It was the Batman suit. Bruce opened the case, and I pressed my left hand up against the chest of the suit. Memories of being carried out of Ace Chemicals replayed in my mind. 

When he spoke that night, his last words to me were “I love you too.” Those words were not spoken in the Batman’s voice, but in Bruce’s voice. The scars on Bruce’s back, the late nights of him not being home, and this is the reason why he bulked up. Bruce Wayne, my husband, is the Batman. 

I turned to Bruce with tears in my eyes, “It was you. You are the Batman?” 

Bruce nodded his head as tears ran down his cheeks. “I had to retaliate, Y/N. When I heard Jeremiah escaped Gotham, I couldn’t be a sitting duck anymore. It wasn’t just me anymore, I had to protect you.” he said.

“And that woman in your office? Who is she?” I questioned and Bruce sighed. “That woman was Selina Kyle. She was warning me about Jeremiah. She heard that he was coming for me, but she didn’t know when. But instead, he went for you.” he explained. 

“We have been friends for a very long time, Y/N. Nothing is or ever will go on between her and myself. She is the reason Jeremiah will never come for us again.” he whispered, and I lunged into Bruce’s arms.

“I was so scared that I was going to die, Bruce.” I cried into his chest. “But the last thing I thought of before I passed out, was you. And when I looked into the Batman’s eyes, I should have known they were yours.” 

Bruce’s arms tightened around me, “I can’t lie to you, Y/N, but things are not going to be easy. Now that you know I am Batman, this is going to make you a target.” he said as he pulled away from me and held my face in his hands. “I can’t give up being Batman now. Gotham needs me more than ever, and if you want to leave me, I won’t hold it against you.” 

“Because I will never forgive myself if something were to happen to you. A part of me knows I should have left you in the dark, and I should have signed those divorce papers.” he said as a tear slipped from his eye. “But another part of me, the selfish part of me, doesn’t want to lose you. I love you, Y/N. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. However, I will respect the decision that you make.” Bruce said as he pressed his forehead against mine. 

I took in a deep breath, “I don’t want a divorce, Bruce. I really don’t. But please, don’t keep any secrets from me.” I said quietly, and Bruce picked me up off of the ground. “No more secrets.” he said before pressing a kiss to my lips. 

“Mrs. Wayne, you are going to need these.” he said as he pulled my engagement ring and wedding band out of his pocket. Bruce slipped them onto my ring finger. 

A few weeks later, I was able to remove the bandage from my hand. This was the first time in weeks I had seen my bare hand. As I removed the bandage, I saw the dark red ‘J’ scar that would be a permanent mark. 

Bruce came into the bathroom and leaned against the door frame, “Are you alright?” he asked, and I closed my hand. “Yeah. I’m just trying to get used to this ugly scar.” I say and he wrapped his arms around me. 

“It won’t always be red. It should somewhat fade.” he said as opened my hand. He looked at the scar and sighed. “If I could have been there sooner.” he whispered, and I cupped his cheek. “Don’t go down that route, Bruce. I am just thankful you showed up when you did. Otherwise, things could have gotten worse.” 

He wrapped his arms around me, and I took in his scent. “Can I ask you something?” I asked, and Bruce nodded. “Will you train me, Bruce?” I asked and he pulled away from me. 

“Train you? For what?” 

“I don’t want to be that girl that was locked in a glass room, about to be murdered, Bruce. I don’t want to be the girl that is left with a scar as a reminder that I cannot protect myself.” I said and he tore his gaze away from me. “Please, Bruce?”

He stood there staring at the wall, and finally he answered. “Okay. You’re right. You need to be able to protect yourself. I will train you, but it’s not going to be easy.” 

That night, when we left “the batcave” after he told me was Batman, our lives had changed forever. I had to share the love of my life with everyone else in Gotham; they got the Dark Knight, and I got Bruce Wayne. The person I fell in love with at Princeton. 

He trained me just like he promised he would. Hell, I was so good at fighting that I was now known as the “Black Widow”. I fought right alongside my husband, helping keep the streets of Gotham safe.  

Then we adopted our first son, then our second, and then our third. Then Bruce found out he had a love child from before we met in college. And then we had a set of twins of our own. As a family, we had a pact, and that was never keep a secret. Because Secrets will always be told. 

----

I know, cheesy ending. But I hope you guys enjoyed this little mini-series. I had fun writing it, and at times it was challenging, but definitely worth it. Thank you to the readers who stuck it out until the very end of this series! 

(Also, I couldn’t figure out a superhero name. So I went with Black Widow, I mean, I always can picture Bruce with a Black Widow!Reader. I do not own the rights to Batman/Bruce Wayne, or the characters mentioned. I only own the story line. Nor do I own the rights to the hero name Black Widow).

XOXO

TAGLIST: @rl800 @auspicious-lilana @theclassicvinyldragon 

@moon-shampoo

[fanfic-the-wish-your-heart-makes]

What Gotham Fox Characters Are Like on April Fool's Day (Part 1: Jim & Jerome)👻🤡😂

Warnings: mention of Jerome not being against using bombs

Jim Gordon Busy. He's busy fighting crime. So busy that he'll just nod at whatever prank news you give him. "Did you see the news, Jim? They wrote your name "Jam Gordy". "Mhm." "Look, a deer!" "Love you too, sweetheart." 🤦😂

To his defence: he really does have tons to do. Which means that he'll melt right into his special someone's arms at the end of the day.

Jerome Valeska

Is also busy. Doing crime. But he finds time to tell you all about it. "Let me tell you, I did not expect much from the green guy, but he's got good ideas, alright. Do you have an idea too? Come on, I wanna hear 'em, I'm a spontaneous guy."

Anything you want to do is good enough for him. Be it something small or something as big as a bomb. But best don't mention such things. He might think you stopped talking about it due to insecurities, not common sense 😆.

[yandere-toons]

Yandere Oswald Cobblepot (Platonic & Romantic Headcanons)

Warnings: strong and bloody violence, guns, stalking, alcohol use, mentions of torture, death, undeath, desecration of corpses, abduction, incarceration, psychological manipulation, toxic mindsets.

Platonic:

From his days of spying and backstabbing as a human footstool for Fish Mooney, Oswald has understood that most relationships are transactional and devoid of real intimacy. Hence, he becomes so readily attached when someone goes out of their way to make his time on this earth a little easier.

In this person, whom he now wishes to have as a lifelong friend, Oswald sees a shining exception to human ugliness, for whose sake he is willing to break laws, spend vast sums of money, and take lives to keep with him. The late Gertrud Kapelput taught him that one must give everything to those dearest to one's heart, a lesson Oswald will honour for the rest of his life.

In addition to assassinating people on his friend's behalf, this devotion translates to buying out entire inventories of jewellery and clothes for them. He offers free drinks at his nightclub, guarantees protection if they operate a business, and provides super-secret special access to all his mother's recipes.

Being sentenced to Arkham or Blackgate is no matter when Mayor Cobblepot is eager to finagle the early release of an old friend. He will blackmail, intimidate, and coerce all the appropriate offices until the person he wants is back with him.

Oswald becomes exceedingly irritable and anxious if separated from his friend for too long. He relies on them to lend him an ear whenever he needs to castrate a rival verbally. Although he is not the most cooperative, Oswald is sensitive to any advice from his friend, a sensitivity that doubles if they tell him he is a good man.

As soon as they are more than a few hours late for a meeting and have not contacted him with an airtight explanation, Oswald is howling at his goons to find them and phoning the GCPD to babble about filing a missing persons report. He refuses to sleep or stop pursuing their alleged killer after his worried heart tells him they lie dead in an alley.

Oswald is drowning in grief and hysteria, attacking anyone who delivers bad news about the search when his friend returns to him alive. He collapses into their arms and rejoices that he can delay learning how it would feel to live without them a bit longer, at which point he begs them to clear their schedule in favour of accompanying him through his day.

If anyone dares make a laughingstock of this relationship and, by extension, him, Oswald paces up and down his home while guzzling wine and ranting about how he will roast these people's entrails like chestnuts over an open fire.

Practising emotional honesty for something other than anger takes every courage Oswald can summon. It is safer for him to live out his days half-satisfied and fantasizing than to put his hopes to the test and risk terrifying rejection, so while he is weighing the pros and cons of coming clean, Oswald awaits a sign that the attachment is reciprocal.

In his ideal world, he lives in his father's mansion and drinks tea with his mother and friend while everyone talks about how he proved the critics wrong and became a great man despite everything.

This dream will never come true for various reasons that keep Oswald awake at night, so he persuades his friend to take one of the guest bedrooms and dispatches those who might threaten his monopoly on their attention.

He does much to sweeten the deal, which, when broken down to its most basic elements, is a request for his friend to devote themselves to him, as Gertrud did and as he says he did for them. A gourmet breakfast and dinner from Olga every day are a given, but the only item on which Oswald will not make concessions is permission to leave Gotham.

Suppose his friend chooses a life of crime. Oswald considers himself their proudest and most adamant supporter. If they are arrested, he will burst into the police station with an army of sycophants — if necessary, an angry mob of misguided citizens — and demand that all charges be dropped.

If the GCPD resists, he will send Victor Zsasz to raid the precinct in a hail of bullets or turn the case into a political issue for the cameras and journalists to shame the police into submission.

A constant sense of danger looms over the friendship, like wolves over a sick deer. Oswald sees it every day in the crowds wishing him to suffer, in the way his heartbeat jumps and pushes him to lash out each time someone approaches his friend with a suspicious look.

This hypervigilance may one day prove too stressful, and Oswald decides his best course of action is to fake his friend's death and sequester them in a safe house until he rules Gotham's underworld with absolute power.

If they do die, Oswald embraces their corpse and wails like a lost child until he has to retreat to survive or gets a chance to mangle the one he thinks is to blame. Afterwards, he is subject to fits of rage and melancholy when reminded of his departed friend and enlists Hugo Strange to revive them.

Operating under a fat paycheck and the threat of torture if he fails, Strange is cleared to sacrifice as many people and make as many monstrous modifications as necessary to succeed.

Driven mad by loss compounded, Oswald finds scarcely a price not worth paying if it allows him to have back one of the few bright spots in his life.

Romantic:

In terms of relationship security, Oswald experiences some cognitive dissonance. He wants to believe that his partner will never abandon him, but at the same time, he fears losing them to anyone with a pulse.

Oswald, pathologically insecure, suspects his partner of finding a replacement for him after one ill-timed joke, one misunderstood smile, or one rejection of another's flirtation that he does not feel was direct enough. He flies into a tirade about how they lead him on and play with his emotions to leech off his wealth and influence.

This explosive tantrum sends his every minion scurrying far away, for whichever lackey is standing closest to him at that moment will be stabbed in the neck with a broken bottle or beaten senseless with a fire poker, depending on the setting. Even though the physical aspects of his rage never touch his partner, the threat of what he could do to them is present evermore.

Throughout his life, the only people who have invariably been kind to him without ulterior motives are his parents, especially his mother. Therefore, a genuine compliment from his partner overwhelms him with the feeling of being wanted and makes him grossly overestimate his importance to them.

If someone claims that his partner has been disloyal to him, Oswald disregards any evidence as forged and maims the messenger for, in his eyes, being a filthy liar. The only way he would believe such a thing is if he uncovers the evidence himself, in which Oswald would rather blame a third party for forcing his partner's hand than let go of the comforting delusion that this relationship is meant to be.

As his rise to power destabilizes him mentally and puts a glaring target on his back, Oswald fears leaving his partner alone, even for a minute. His paranoia spirals out of control until he becomes obsessed with the possibility that enemies he knows too well and those he has yet to discover will come to murder or kidnap and torture the last good thing in his miserable existence.

Oswald assigns Victor Zsasz to keep vigil over his partner day and night for the foreseeable future, giving Victor — who in turn gives his henchwomen — strict shoot-on-sight orders for any visitors not on his list. The list is shorter than a pig's tail and consists of Oswald himself, Victor and crew, and as an on-again, off-again member, Edward Nygma.

In his deranged mind, not even Jim Gordan has business speaking to his partner without him there to monitor the interaction.

Suppose Oswald gets the impression that someone is trying to wheedle information out of his partner or bully them into betraying his trust. In that case, this interloper is slain with extreme prejudice at the earliest opportunity.

Suppose a friend or family member decides to come over unannounced and receives a bullet to the brain, que será, será. Oswald has convinced himself that all the others in his partner's life are traitors waiting to happen, or, if not traitors, vulnerabilities that his enemies will use to lure his partner away from the safety of his watchful eye.

Acts of disrespect towards those he cares about make Oswald apoplectic, so if he hears anything about anyone accosting or assaulting his partner, someone is getting an umbrella crammed down their throat.

Whether he beats the culprit to death with a baseball bat, lets Victor have fun with them, or mounts their severed head on one of his end tables and calls it a decoration depends on the severity of his partner's distress. If tears are shed, and blood is bled, whoever caused them this pain is hunted like an animal and reduced to meat paste.

Through mass execution and permanent disfigurement, Oswald makes it clear that his partner is off-limits to Gotham's underworld, even to those members who have been licensed to do wrong by the Pax Penguina.

Anyone still holding them at gunpoint loses an arm and then a life, and Oswald insists that he take that life himself because everything that threatens his partner threatens him, too.

If in Arkham together, Oswald deems himself far more honest than the rest of these ruffians and thus makes a promise. Any violence against his partner will be inflicted tenfold on the perpetrators, whom he adds to his big book of names to disappear once he regains his status as King of Gotham.

Locked alone in the asylum, Oswald worries that his partner will leave and forget about him. Once free, he tracks their current address by any means necessary and seeks confirmation that they have not forsaken him. This absence has so reinforced his inability to separate that the appearance of a new person or a request to distance himself from them is perceived as a betrayal.

Although Oswald will always forgive his partner, he will not quit plotting revenge against those who gave them these terrible ideas. The day of reckoning for these pond scum will come when and how he pleases. In the meantime, he would like to share a ribeye steak with his partner while everyone else in Gotham starves.

[h4unted-d4rling]

TW, talks of menstruation and sexual content mentioned

Eddie would have sex with you on your period and he’d get all scientific about it like “the reason sex helps with cramps is that sexual activity releases endorphins that relieve them!” And the aftercare KING he is he would clean you up after the fact <3 he’d go to the store to get you pads/tampons and chocolate and tea <3

Like bro does not think it’s “unhygienic” like he would def be like “it’s a natural thing darling! it’s okay!”

HE WOULD TAKE SUCH GOOD CARE OF YOU

you are in the safest hands with him <3

[it-happened-once-in-a-meme]

Gotham Pick-Up Lines (Valentine Cards for Jim, Edward, Nathaniel Barnes & uhm IsabellA) 💌😂

Edit: I totally forgot to put Isabella into this at first 😆

This is canon, right?

Not that that's hard.

He deserves it 😁

A little more suggestive content (only written) under the cut:

Harvey's mentally and physically facepalming at that 😆😂

"Don't waste your good looks on overtime, Jimbo."

[mythicalcowboyatheart]

Gotham charters and I think the pet names they would use

rating: sfw 

Warning: pet names

Jerome Valeska

Doll face

Doll

Dolly

Babe

Baby 

Jeremiah Valeska

Darling 

My love

my darling

My pet

(Litarly anything with “My” at the beginning)

Edward Nygma

Darling

Love 

Lovely

My love

Hunny (Maybe?)

[howl-fantasies]

I have a request for headcanons of the Gotham rogues having met the Y/N when they were ig sane aka. not evil and then awhile after just seeing them at Arkham, now knowing they went down the same pit they had.

At least they can be a new rogue!

( I'm thinking of them liking each other romantically beforehand and then Y/N poof is now not sane- like oops but you can still date 🤷‍♀️ )

Hi dear, thank you for your request! And so sorry for the delay! I like the concept, it's a really plausible one. The idea of them meeting each other again in Arkham and bonding because of their common misfortune and spiralling to hell is a very good one! *Barbara vibes here*😂

I made scenarios with the reader being friend or sort of with the villains first, since I thought it would be fitting, I hope it's ok for you dear. I went with: Ed, Oswald, Victor and Jonathan. Tell me if you want to read more headcanons with other villains.

So here it is:

Warning: violence, blood, mental illness, suicidal thoughts, suicide attempt, Arkham (hey, it can be traumatising, ask Oswald and Ed), English is not my first language I'm working on it.

Word Count: 3.685

GOTHAM VILLAINS HAVING MET THE READER WHEN THEY WERE SANE

EDWARD NYGMA / THE RIDDLER

You were Kringle's coworker and met Eddy at the GCPD.

Even if you worked with the other woman you were never really close, mostly because of the awful way she treated Ed at first.

Even if he was a dork, you used to find him endearing and always gave his riddles a shot, succeeding or not to answer correctly.

If you were good at riddles, Ed would immediately become your partner in riddle-crime, always searching for a good one able to stump you.

If riddles weren't your forte, he appreciated your effort and gentleness. You really were trying and he really loved the spark of comprehension in your eyes when he would give you the correct answer and how you would facepalm and curse at how obvious it was when you were thinking about it.

Your closeness would earn you a lot of teasing from Jim, Harvey and the other cops, most of the times it would be mean remarks targeting Ed, though.

But you both knew the truth: Nygma was still obsess with Kringle. You, on the other hand, always had a soft spot for him. You didn't need to be a genius, though, to know your attraction for dear Ed was only a one side one. So you never told him anything about it.

When Ed started to lose it, you truly were horrified. Why? How? What was happening to him? You did your best to team up with Jim in order to bring your lovely co-worker back to you.

You already know the result: it will be an epic fail. For Jim, you and finally Ed who will be send to Arkham.

Then, your own little descent into hell happened.

Without Ed, you were now the new GCPD's scapegoat. Those guys never learn anything, right?

Hell at work and in your personal life: losing a close relative, meeting someone who hurt you badly, money issues, illness... choose your weapon and be ready to see your uneventful life burst into flames for the worse...or maybe the better?

You would wreak absolute havoc in Gotham, so much, Gordon himself had to go after you and managed to arrest you.

"What happened to you Y/N?! Ed wasn't enough? Why did you have to follow his path?!" He asked-yelled, the deep hurt visible in his eyes.

Goodbye Gotham, hello Arkham. Guess who you met again here?

“No waaay ∼ Look at you my dear, you are positively stunning!” His taunting voice would call you from the other side of the refectory. “Did you missed me so much you decided to pursue me here? My, oh my, I’m honoured!” *Yes, you can hit his pompous ass, please do it*

Riddler had to stop his mocking, though. When he saw you so numb, his felt his heart clench painfully. He appreciated you a lot back then. And seeing you so hollow made him drop his cocky act. 

“Are you ok dear?” He would ask, joining you at your table and cautiously seating in front of you with his brows furrowed. “What happened?”

And you would tell him. How your life became a living hell when he was gone. How everything crumbled around you until your mind didn’t have any other choice than snap. 

Goodness. He empathized. He truly did. His own snapping was relatively fresh after all. 

He would make his own little mission to protect you from Strange and his little human experiments, he would try his best to lift your spirit and even create special riddles only for you. Don’t worry about answering wrong, you wouldn’t die for it, he swore. 

Now that Kringle was out of the picture, Ed would finally see you. See how you were always kind with his dork him, how you tried to save him when everything went south for him, how you would discreetly wrinkle your cute nose when something was bothering you but you were too polite to point it out loud. God what was he thinking while running after his previous doomed love when you, who never tried to change anything with him, was just under his nose. He would feel like the biggest fool into the whole city let me tell you. 

He wouldn’t mind you being now judged as insane. He wouldn’t mind your illness. He would only mind how a blushing mess he was gradually becoming when you were near him. And he would only mind about ensuring your security: inside of Arkham, outside of it when he would convince Oswald to get you out too. 

Be ready to be the one receiving muffins with a bullet in it, flowers, poems, and any romantic gift you can think about. 

Bonus: he will always keep a picture of the two of you inside of his wallet. You both were in Arkham’s uniform at the cafeteria while he was teaching you how to play chess with a paper handmade one he created just for you. He would never admit it to anyone but he thought you were the cutest thing in your uniform. 

--

OSWALD COBBLEPOT / THE PENGUIN

You fist met Oswald when he entered the little tailor shop you owned.

He needed a new suit for his grand debuts in the mafia’s world, when he started to work for Fish. 

He wouldn’t be very kind during his first visits. But he came back every times, finding your sense of fashion and sewing technique terrific. 

He finally decided to compliment them once, bringing you to talk about a lot of things: suits, buttons, and more dangerous subjects like his mother and his growing criminal career. Nothing too touchy, though. Oswald is a cautious little thing and he also didn’t want you to sell any information or, if you really were as kind as you looked, make you a target if anyone wanted to hurt him. 

Soon, you would become his little secret. His breath of fresh air. He would even try to hide your friendship to his dear mother, too afraid she insults you or demand him to stop seeing you. 

But Gertrude is perceptive in her own way and would suspect something. Because of Oswald’s stupid happy smile whenever he was putting one of your creation, she would stay silent and let him think he was so good at keeping secrets. She swore to tore you apart if you ever dare to break his lovely son’s heart, though. 

Your relationship reached an important point when he would met you just after Fish defeat and flee, thanks to Victor. His clothes and face were a total mess. 

So you patched his suit and him, without asking questions you knew he wouldn’t answer. 

But he decided to speak. Well, not really speak, he vented. His nerves cracking and his temper starting to get the best of him. He always tried to keep it tamed near you, too afraid about your possible reaction. 

You didn’t run away. You let him yell, smash his hands and fists against your furniture, and offered him some tea, fruits and biscuits. 

“Poof” angry Oswald was now tamed. You’re a wizard/witch reader, be ready to receive a letter from Hogwarts in the following days.

After this, Cobblepot’s fondness for you will know no limit. As his dear friend, he would always make sure your shop and you were ok, even when everything around him was burning. 

But Gotham is Gotham, you know. Trouble, misery, and disasters always find their way to you. 

It started with an arson. Your shop was burned to the very ground. By who? Oswald swore to investigate and help you build it back, even better than before. 

But he wasn’t that rich at this time, so you did what any citizen would have done: you called the insurance, you went to the illustrious Gotham Central Bank and ask for their help to lend you the funds you needed. 

Condensed, their answer was pretty much a: “LMAO no fucking way, please go die somewhere in the dark alone.” Pretty much. With prettier and complex words, but the meaning was the same. 

Oswald was livid. You too. But you’ll eventually find a way to back up on your feet. Right? *Spoiler: no*

Your chance definitely left you when a few weeks later, Oswald get caught and sent to Arkham, letting you all alone to deal with your problem and Cobblepot’s foes who somehow had heard about you. 

Domino effect. It would always be your answer to the “What happened to you?” inevitable question. You lost it. You snapped. Nobody, except Oswald, was keen on helping you in this hell hole. Nobody would care if you were to die alone in a dark and shady alley. 

Why would you care about robbing the bank then? And other banks, galleries, rich people in town? Money was the key. You needed money. In fact, it became your obsession. Money will guarantee you a home, you will never lose yours ever again. Money will guarantee you security, power, and quick solutions whenever you may be in need for one. 

You get caught too. Your total obsession for money making you the perfect new candidate to the only asylum in town. Not like you cared. Your precious money was safe, you made sure of it. But from Arkham, it would be a little bit difficult to reach. 

Life decided to stop being a bitch when you saw your dear friend again. 

“Y/N?!” You heard him yell when you were escorted to the cell next to his own. “Oh my god my dear, I am so sorry I wasn’t here for you! But what are you doing here! It must be a mistake! Guards! Let us go this instant, we aren’t mentally ill for heaven’s sake!” 

Like Ed, Oswald will make sure no harm was done to you in Arkham. Yes, he would even protect you from Jerome. He would never let the freak touch a single hair of your head. You were too precious. 

Oswald would also make sure to get you out. Even after Strange little mind game on him. He would never forget you or judge you a bad influence for him. 

Of course he’ll notice your newfound obsession for money. But he understands. Better, he will make sure to help you make and steal a lot of it. 

He asked you to move in with him during his mayor campaign, implored you to stay during his Gotham’s throne conquest - for your own security. In fact, he will want you with him at all times. You, his dearest friend. The only one who, he knew, would never turn their back on him. 

Be ready to catch him facing empty chairs a few times when you come back home. “Don’t panic, he’s practicing his confession,” Olga told you in her language that you obviously don’t understand a word about. 

Gifts. Gifts everywhere. Everyday. For no reason. He likes to spoil you rotten. “Can’t you see this boy fell head over heels for you, idiot?” Would sigh Olga every time. Of course, both of you will miss it every time, demanding her to speak in freaking ENGLISH... Poor you guys... It will take ages. 

--

VICTOR ZSASZ

Victor met you for the first time at the Lady's illegal casino.

You weren't an assassin yourself, by no means. Just here to work as an accountant. You knew about the Lady's business and ensure she never had any issue with her money, writing her contracts for her and it was all.

When the most famous assassin in town showed his bald head in the casino and the Lady wasn't here, he pretexted he was "just passing by" and got lost here. Dude... I mean...

You had to facepalm. Which made him laugh like an idiot. You knew who he was, but also were accustomed to assassins at this point so it wasn't like you were going to pee in your pants while being in front of him. He liked it.

You introduced yourself properly and explained you worked for the Lady and was aware he was supposed to come to see her.

You offered him a drink on the house and humor him with small talk while waiting for your boss.

When she finally showed up, the three of you moved in a seclude area to talk business. Something about a contract the Lady wanted to make with Victor, with the benediction of Carmine Falcone.

He was amazed by how composed and organized you were. Clinical. Like any good assassin should be, even if you weren't one. He absolutely loved your quick wit and the dark jokes you would offer from time to time to help lightening the mood when tension was getting too intense. Damn, you were good!

Victor being Victor, he quickly became fascinated by you, following you everywhere in town with or without you knowing.

You caught him stalking you once when you stopped by a pizza truck, asking for a calzone.

"Add one pepperoni please. Oh! And a milkshake too." Came his voice from behind you, making you jump out of your skin and curse him like a sailor.

"What the hell?! Are you following me? I mean, for real?! DUDE!" You yelled in pure outrage.

He wouldn't even try to hide it. Simply offering you his irritating "Uh-uh".

"What for? Plan to kill me or something?" You asked.

His long silence wasn't mean to threaten you, no. He was admiring your nerves of steel. Also questioning your sanity a bit, truth be told. But since you made him a really good impression so far, he decided you were impressive.

"Not today", he just said with a shrug. Ok, so he wanted to play friends or something so stupidly mondain like this. Again, you decided to humor him.

Guess what, after a few times of totally not planned encounters, you started to really get close to each other. Even exchange numbers at some point.

He would always find the time to pay you a little visit at the casino at the end of your shift and appreciate the strange normalcy it gave him.

Everything was fine until one day, the Lady's illegal casino was under attack, getting nearly everyone killed brutally.

You survived somehow. You weren't an assassin but it didn't mean they didn't taught you a thing or two, like surviving *the irony* or using weapons.

When the GCPD FINALLY arrived, they caught you, covered in blood and utterly shocked. You were still processing everything happening and your world falling apart.

Your distressed attitude and shock were the main reasons why you were send to Arkham, in hope they would help you to get through it and release you after it.

They didn't plan the bloodbath would have turned one very dangerous switch inside of you. The blood, the thrill, the smell of powder, the pure rush of adrenaline. God you wanted more.

A month later maybe, guess who also found his ass in the same facility? But yes of course: Victor Zsasz.

His goofy grin threatened to split his jaw in half when he saw you: "Hey Sweets! Knew you survived!"

It wouldn't need much for him to understand what switch was activated inside of you. And he was positively thrilled by it!

He offered to train you, respected when you declined joining the Zsaszettes and came with another idea: introduce you to Falcone/Oswald (depending on where you want to stand in the timeline) and make you their brand new accountant-assassin.

Be ready to find him glued to you at anytime, you were his little secret crush back then, you're now his new God/Goddess and nothing will stop him to worship you properly, not even you. You'll see you were made for each other, eventually.

--

JONATHAN CRANE / SCARECROW

You were Jonathan's classmate and friend.

You weren't as easy spook as him so you often where his emotional support and bodyguard, especially at school with bullies. No need to be a total badass, your fondness for him was enough to give you the courage to shut up the boys or girls making fun of him and you, or give them a proper beating if you feel like so.

His sensibility always touched you deeply, and you were always here whenever he needed to vent about something or talk about his fears.

This is how you learned about the arson taking the life of his mother. The gradual shutting of his father and his obsession with fear and how to tame it.

When it was only researches, you found yourself really interested in Jonathan's father discoveries, as much as Jonathan himself. He was always a little genius in science and physics. Share it with him or not, your interest for the fear field wasn't feigned.

He gladly explained whatever you didn't understand and even suggested a few theories, sharing them with you.

It could have stayed this way, a passion, a subject of research. But it had to escalate when Jon's father started to look for unwilling test subjects.

You weren't aware of it at first. Unsuspecting, until you found Jonathan doubled in half on the floor of the school's bathroom one day, crying like a river and mumbling nonsense about him being a monster and going straight to hell.

You rushed to him, crouching at his level and tried to shake him out of his shock. "Jon'! Hey! Look at me! What are you talking about, you're no monster! Something happened? Please talk to me."

Poor boy was an absolute mess but managed to hear you and let you help him to sit. And he spoke. Oh good lord, he spoke for an hour or so, telling you everything about his father and what he was doing to poor gothamites. How he was forced into this total craziness and how he started to fear his father will ask him to use you as a test subject one day.

Horrified. That's how you felt, frankly. You had to stay silent for a good five minutes to process everything your friend just told you.

But you liked Jonathan, and he wasn't responsible of his father madness, right?

You comforted him, swearing it was not his fault and he wasn't a monster.

When he finally stopped crying, you swore to him that you'll never tell it to anyone, not even the police *You were teens. Teens do stupid things like this. Well, adults too when you think about it...*

He would come to you every time his father would terrify some innocent in town, crying for hours on your shoulders.

When his dad used the toxin on him, he was on phone with you, making you yell bloody murder on the other side of the line and dropping everything you were doing to run to his house.

You crumbled when you saw your best friend on the ground under his phobia: a huge scarecrow, yelling, crying and spasming like he was having a heart attack. You rushed to him and pushed Harvey away, "He's my friend! Oh my god! Please do something!" You pleaded in tears, having to be manhandled by Jim to allow emergency services to reach him.

You were at the hospital everyday, hating you for not having call the GCPD sooner. Maybe it would have saved Jon. The guilt was eating you alive. When the docteur told you he was a lost cause, you felt like going into a tailspin. Then, came the numbness.

When Jonathan was transferred into an asylum where visits weren't allowed, you made a new friend: depression.

Nothing could help you, you wanted to die. Die for being responsible of your friend distress, die because all you were able to feel was pain.

You went to his house one day, when the guilt and pain were too much to bear. You found yourself inside his father's old office and started to rummage around his things. There, a syringe. With some shady yellow liquid floating inside of it.

You didn't had any idea about what was inside. But at this point, you didn't care any more. You took it in your hands, looked at it just a second before plunging it directly on your upper arm, emptying it in it.

Your yells of absolute terror were what made neighbors call the police, thinking a murder was happening in Crane's old house. When Gordon and Bullock found you, they felt ice in their veins. You were Jonathan's friend. The one who found him with them that night. The one who always was by his side at the hospital before his transfer. Jim felt he failed you. Harvey too.

You went through the exact same hell as Jonathan. First the delirium, the nightmares... When you finally managed to wake up, your diagnosis was the same as him: a lost cause. Arkham was your new stop. They didn't want to send you to the same facility's Jonathan was in, too afraid it would be too much of a shock for both of you guys.

Oh but fate has its own ways. And you finally saw each other again, years later. When he was now incarcerated as Scarecrow.

He recognized you immediately. Not believing what he was seeing. What happened to you? He tried to find you when he started his criminal career but it was like your very existence vanished from earth.

He was always perceptive. A minute was enough for him to understand: you were exposed to his toxin. Well, to his father's toxin.

He was as sorry for you as he was impress when you explained him you took the same dose of toxin he took a few years back and was still living to tell the tale.

Since you were his friend *cough* and also school sweetheart *cough*, and now totally immune to his fear toxin, he decided it was time for him to take care of you and make sure you were always safe.

Be ready for a clingy best friend-lover, for cuddles every times you two are alone, to weird scary gifts, halloween chocolates, dead flowers and basically any weird thing he would find romantic or cute.

A/N - I hope you liked it! Have a beautiful day/night my dear, take care!

[finniestoncrane]

Hello! I hope you're having a wonderful day. I've never made a request before, so I really hope that I'm doing it correctly! I was wondering if you could do the Riddler from Gotham and a female reader. A Fluffy Romance one where Ed wants to confess his feelings for the reader, but is a nervous wreck about it because he's worried that she won't return his feelings? I would absolutely love it if you could do this, I love your writing, and thank you for reading my request!

Gotham!Riddler x Fem!Reader, word count: 1k eeeeeee i love shy and nervous eddie!! he is my sweetest softest baby and i am so happy to indulge in this 💚 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: fluff, confessing feelings, two nervous nuggets trying to kiss

Outside of your office door, Ed was practicing his speech. He hadn't thought of it as such, but when he'd asked Lee to look over it, she had suggested it was perhaps a little wordy. And of course, in response, he had scowled, been a little annoyed, and walked off with a quiet 'thank you'. Surely everything he wanted to say to you couldn't be condensed. Surely the fact that he was barely able to silently contain his feelings for you was enough of an indication that it was pointless to even try to be succinct.

Everything had to be perfect. Entertaining, so you knew he was fun. Engaging, so you didn't tune out before the very important bits. Heartfelt, so you could tell he was being genuine and sincere.

All he wanted was a chance. To tell you how much he admired you, how beautiful and capable he thought you were, and to have you agree to let him prove that he was good enough for you, or at the very least, better than any of the other men around the GCPD.

So why was it taking so long for him to knock on your door?

He'd been standing there for almost twenty minutes, wringing his hands, practicing his deep breathing exercises, fiddling with his glasses, anything but raising his hand to the frosted glass panel and actually talking to you.

It was nerves. That was the answer to the question. An obvious answer, too. Anyone could see it by looking at him. His usually tidy hair was dishevelled, his shirt untucked from his brown, corduroy pants, hands trembling, glasses smudged, his nails frayed and chewed to the point where they hurt. His cheeks were bright red, and his forehead was sweating. These were all classic symptoms, and he knew them well. But they would only get worse the longer he stood out there, worrying and overthinking.

Ed raised his hand, reaching it forward to rap the knuckles against the door, when it suddenly burst open. And there you were, about to walk out, bumping into him and then stumbling backwards with an apology.

"Ed! I'm so sorry, are you ok?"

"I'm fine, it's ok. I can see that you're busy, so I'll just-"

"Actually, it's good timing. I was hoping to come and see you. Do you have a minute?"

"Of course! I have plenty of time for you."

You smiled, your own nerves soothed by his kindness. If only you'd had him fifteen minutes ago when you had to put your lunch in the trash, unable to eat because of the butterflies in your stomach. If only you could just find it in you to tell Ed how you felt about him, instead of living in an awkward limbo. But you had resolved to end that today, and now, he was right there in front of you. Never a better time.

"Do you think... could you come into my office? I'd rather this was a private discussion."

"Oh... yes! I actually... if we have time afterwards, and it's appropriate, I have something I'd like to discuss with you, too. Privately."

He had walked over to your desk, standing awkwardly, rocking on the heels of his feet with his hands behind his back. When you had closed the door, you felt the tension, knowing you were alone with him, committed to telling him. But you couldn't bring yourself to do it, so you offered him the floor first.

"In that case, please feel free to tell me what you wanted to talk about. My thing... it can wait, it's not... it's not important."

Ed looked stunned, shocked into a silent stupor as he wondered what he might do next. You'd given him the permission to go ahead and say what he had come there to say, but despite his high intellect, and the hours of practice, he suddenly found himself unable to speak, or to at least form sentences that actually made any sense.

"I uh... well... I-I came to see if, or say, rather... that you, well, I really... I-if I... could perhaps... The thing is... You're a v-very special p-person... to me... to the GCPD, to everyone! And... And I wondered if you wanted... if you w-would ever want... with, uh... Just..."

He licked his lips nervously, wetting them as he tried to form more words. You waited patiently, smiling softly as you realised that Ed might just be there for the exact same reason you were. It was hard not to interrupt him, but you wanted to see if you were right, and you wanted to puthim out of his misery as he fumbled over his words and began sweating, glasses steaming up and clouding his vision.

"... because I really d-do think you're... beautiful... is that inappropriate? I, uh, apologise if it is b-but I just had to ask if... uh... i-if... if-"

"Would you like to go on a date with me, Ed?"

Stopped in his tracks, Ed's eyes widened and his lips parted in a small gasp of surprise and relief.

"Of course!"

He cleared his throat, trying to settle his voice back to its regular register.

"Ahem... Of course I would. Would you?"

Leaning in to him, you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, lingering just a moment longer than was expected before you pulled back.

"Absolutely. Shall we say tonight, after work?"

"Uh... yes. Yes!"

You smiled, turning to go back to your desk.

"W-wait, don't you... didn't you need something from me?"

"Oh! I've got it now, thanks."

He nodded, flustered, a big grin pushing his cheeks into his eyes as he turned to leave your office, abstaining from giggling and punching the air until he was sure you wouldn't be able to catch him celebrating.

[gothamitelove]

Hi! I love jonathan crane in the gotham show and is so exciting that you writte for him. Could you writte somthing about yandere! Scarecrow and yandere! Reader, like they are equally obsessed with each other

ooh lets do it anon youre cooking here

this jon honestly didn't think he'd ever find someone who loves like he does- until he meets you

and at first he's very, very careful about keeping the... less acceptable parts of him under wraps. the last thing he wants to do is scare you away

in fact, he's even happy to do it- if hiding this part of him is what it takes to keep you, he'll do it. no questions asked.

so to find out that you not only share the same obsessive inclinations but that you feel like this for him is almost overwhelming in how happy it makes him

he finally takes the lid off the pot, as it were, and tells you everything

how much he knows about you, what he may or may not have done to certain people in your life, how he loves you more than anything he's ever loved before

(and how if you left him, he doesn't think he'd ever love again)

if anything, your reciprocation just makes him worse. it's so freeing to not have to hide himself anymore

you are rarely seen away from each other. you're together all the time and you couldn't be happier about it