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her-favorite · 5 months

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AN OATH; J. VALESKA (T-F)

JEROME VALESKA X F!READER (TWO-FACED III)

WARNINGS: typical jerome things - since this is going to be a series, i’m not going to put lengthy ‘warnings’ on all of them (since if you’ve watched the show, then you can the read a book with j’s violence) and remember, if something isn’t necessarily ‘accurate’, it’s just my characterization of him and we technically don’t know what he’d be like in a relationship so

WC: 10,143

A/N: i know you guys have been WAITING for this one 🙏🏻 i’m really hoping i didnt let any of you guys down with how this turned out 😭 also if anyone reads some of these the wrong way, this is not Barbara slander!! she’s my wife and i love her - posting this series on wattpad (jeromes-scars) if anyone wants to check it out on there!!

SERIES MASTERLIST | PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 |

SUMMARY: Never expect anything rational with Jerome Valeska. He was a lunatic, a psycho. And yet, something about him captivates you. As you consider your options, you’re left in a crossroads. Time will only tell what your answer will be…

Click. Click. Click.

Consistent tapping of card stock against another rang in your ears. The sun blared into the open room violently, harming your eyes. The tapping on the other side of the room hadn’t stopped for what feels like hours, but you were sure it must’ve been at least twenty minutes. Irritated noises sounded from the same corner but you’ve been acting as if you were asleep the entire time, you can’t give up now. Though, you weren’t sure how much time you’d have left before he would wake you up.

The bed underneath you was soft, probably memory foam. You’ve yet to move from your spot ever since you had been told to lay in it last night. You’d be lying if you said that you had gotten any sort of sleep last night. Your thoughts kept you up and the fact you had been sleeping in the same bed, on the same mattress as a murderer wasn’t a very comforting thought to fall asleep to.

Jim was looking for you, you felt it in your heart. He always looked to you as someone to take care of, to protect when you were too vulnerable. He was always there when things would get to be too difficult and Jim would sit there and talk with you any time that you asked. You knew of Jim’s predicament between Barbara and Lee and, though he was never one to talk about his feelings, you somehow managed to make him feel comfortable enough to speak to you about the situation. Jim Gordon was like a father to you, and you his daughter.

That thought alone made you have to suppress tears that had formed behind your eyelids as you could practically hear Jim’s demanding voice yelling at cops at the GCPD to find you and to search the whole city for your whereabouts. You managed to have little hope last night as you stayed up trying to think of a way to escape the maniac that was currently holding you captive, and even with the training from the greatest cop in the city, Jerome was too far ahead. He somehow knew every thought you were going to think and it worried you how much he truly knew about you, if he had done any background searches and had somehow found childhood stories or worse, if he had been stalking you while he waited to make his first appearance.

You mentally sighed as you knew that you weren’t going to be able to pretend to be asleep for much longer without him realizing you’ve been awake the entire time. Blinking your eyes open, still trying to get used to the bright rays shining inside, your body shifts lightly on the bed.

Instantly, the clicking stops.

Your heart sped up just slightly as the room was engulfed in silence so suddenly. You tried to stop the argument that you were having with yourself as you sat up, purposely ignoring the creaks coming from in front of you and looking over at the window as clouds roll in over the sun.

“Sleeping beauty’s awake!�� A cheerful voice exclaimed, fully breaking you out of your daze. Though, you should’ve expected it, a small flinch was your reaction. “I’ve been waiting forever for you to wake up.” The man rounds the corner and stands in your line of vision, making you look up at him. “That’s if, you’ve actually been asleep.” The smirk on his face lightens his features as it seems to split across his lips.

“C’mon, doll, we got a busy day ahead of us!” Without any sort of warning, a pale hand reaches out and grabs yours, pulling you up from the bed and into his arms. Your breath hitched in your throat at the impulsive action, your wrists starting to ache at his firm grip on them. “Hi, gorgeous. Fancy seeing you here.” A loud, boisterous laugh sounded from the man, making your ears hurt. If you had your hands free you would’ve put them over your ears to drown out the heinous sound.

Jerome lets go of one of your wrists but keeps a tight hold on your other. “First, we’re gonna go downstairs, have some food, maybe. Then,” he walks back over to a desk that sat in the corner of the room. “Oh, I need these!” His free hand reaches forward and grabs a stack of cards, flicking some through his finger until one flew out onto the desk. “There you are..” His voice was low as a wide smile grew on his face. He stuffs the deck in his pocket as his fingers reach back over to grab the lone card. The one you wished you hadn’t seen.

The Joker Card.

You wished you protested more. Maybe, just maybe he would’ve listened. The air was tense in the vast room as Jerome sat beside you, stuffing his face with the breakfast buffet that was presenting itself on the table. You sat still as you tried to ignore the uncomfortable silence and the teasing stare from Barbara Kean that sat across from you. Another woman sat beside her, but you hadn’t been introduced to her yet, and she wasn’t in the line up of the criminals that had ‘broken out’.

“So,” The blonde broke the silence as she rested her chin on her hand, moving forward and leaning her elbow on the table. “What’s this?” She looks between the both of you. Without having to glance over at him, you knew Jerome was still putting handfuls of food in his mouth, the gross sound of him chewing echoed in your ear.

“Wait a second,” Barbara paused as a smirk began to form on her lips. “I know you..” She searches you over and then gasps, putting a hand over her mouth dramatically, “You worked with Jim.” A giggle escaped her mouth as she spoke, “Funny seeing you here, huh?” She leans forward again, resting both of her arms on the table and watching you intently. You knew better than to give her a reaction as you sat still, listening to what she had to say.

“Well? You gonna answer me?” She breaks the heated eye contact first, switching between the both of you. The woman beside her doesn’t seem all that interested in the conversation as she only looks up once or twice before fiddling with the whip in her hands.

“None of your business, blondie.” Jerome finally looked up from his plate of food, almost all of it gone, with a sinister glare on his face. “Want some, gorgeous?” His demeanor changes with a snap of his fingers as he looks over at you, plunging his fork into a pancake, offering it over toward you. Before he could pull it over the table, sticky syrup still hanging off of the snack, you shake your head in response. He shrugs, “More for me.” Those same disgusting sounds resurface.

“C’mon, ginger. Once Theo finds out you brought a cop into this mess,” Barbara leans back in her chair and looks over at the woman next to her, giving her a certain expression.

“He’ll let me deal with you.” The woman finished the blonde’s sentence as the dark haired girl stares forward at the ginger. The whip cracked in her hand making Barbara smile as she glanced over at it.

Nothing in this world could ever make you flinch as bad as that laugh. It’s loud and irritating and painful to listen to as it screams in your ear, reverberating against the walls. It stung as it seemed to replay in your head, quickly forming a headache. With a flat palm against the glass surface of the table, Jerome leans back in his chair and cackles until it sounds like it hurts. He probably likes the pain.

“Oh, wow! Didn’t know,” Another cackle cut himself off, ending in a harsh wheeze. “Didn’t know you had that in ya, Tabby!” He playfully wipes a tear from his eye and rests his other hand on his stomach as if he’s trying to soothe the ache from laughing so hard. “Wasn’t that funny, sugar?” Another sharp laugh sounded from him as he animatedly tries to calm himself down.

You’ve realized, even over the coarse of just a little over an hour, that Jerome hasn’t once called you by your name. Had it been a subconscious thing of his? Does he do it to get on your nerves?

An irritated eye roll was the response from the woman across the table. Her chair screeched as she pushed it away from the table and stood up, her whip ready in her hand. Before she walked away, she turned towards Barbara and asked, “I’m gonna blow off some steam. You comin’?” She must’ve had a certain look in her eye with the way the blonde had agreed. The taller woman took her hand forcefully and pulled her out of the room, not without a small giggle from Kean, as her whip dragged across the floor.

Once the clicking of her heels faded out of the doorway and down the hall, Jerome looked over at you with a wicked smile. Not once have you figured out what his plan was. You were hoping that he’d bring the topic back up again since he hadn’t finished explaining before he brought you downstairs. Something with playing cards.. right?

“You ready for today, toots? It’s gonna be a roller coaster.” He giggles and gets up from his chair, the same loud screeching noise invading the silence again. He held out his hand, politely waiting for you to take it. You knew you should take it, maybe if you played along for a little while, navigate your way through the building, you could find your way out. With that little hope in the back of your head, you accept the offer of his hand and stand up from the chair.

As he pulled you up the stairs towards his room, you’re lost in thought, trying to reclaim every single detail from yesterday. Even with Jerome’s consistent mumbling, you ignore him as your mind goes as far as to recall when you had woken up tied to that chair with Jerome standing above you. He kept teasing you, he had killed Robert Greenwood, and then.. you were blanking. Your memories had vanished once Jerome had stopped walking and snapped his long fingers in front of your face.

“Hellooo? You in there?” With a few scattered blinks, you shake your head lightly to bring yourself back to reality.

“Yeah,” You take a deep breath before finishing, “I’m here.” Though, you wished you hadn’t been.

“Goodie! C’mon, doll, I told you we had a busy day ahead of us!” Jerome grabs your hand and sprints into his room. He sits you down on the edge of the bed and then walks over to an armoire that sat by the wall. Jerome opens the doors and sorts through the clothes, mumbling to himself, “no,” “too tacky,” “hm, maybe.” As he does so, you run your eyes over his stature, only now realizing that he had been wearing a long, red silky robe with blue pajamas underneath. Soft slippers held his feet as they were a little too small for him. Now that you had thought about outfits, you quickly looked down at yours. Your police uniform was gone. In its place was a long sleeved plaid sweater with random black sweatpants.

“You look cute in my clothes, doll face.” You look up when you hear his teasing tone, catching the wink he sent you before he turned back around and picked up a hanger from inside the closet.

Had he changed you? With your mind foggy, you realized that you must’ve fell asleep at some point. The headache from before came back full force as you tried to recall everything that had happened in that past 24 hours. You didn’t know why you couldn’t remember everything clearly, why you were so caught up in yourself. You rub your eyes as if it’ll help you remember everything.

“What is my doll gonna wear today.. hm,” he puts his finger on his chin as he thinks. You quickly try to think of something to intrigue him, truly not wanting him to pick your outfit. Who knew what was going through that maniacs head.

“Why am I here, Jerome? I mean, why am I still here?” You get up from the bed slowly, almost like you were trying to not scare away a cat. “You could’ve killed me back at the GCPD, but you didn’t. Why do you want me here?” You take a step forward, still wary of him. You were unsure of what the man was truly capable of and you were completely against seeing what he was.

The ginger tried to show no reaction as he stared off, but you noticed the way his breath seemed to hitch in his throat and the barely there picked up pace of his chest moving up and down. Mentally debating if you should keep talking, you gave him a second to adjust to the sudden question. His true origins were still yet to reveal to you. He obviously despised his mother, killing her on a hill and laughing about it. From the threats surrounding his supposed brother, he didn’t seem a fan of him either. You had yet to know what his childhood and his life was actually like. You wondered if he would ever tell you.

“Barbara might have some clothes in her room. Go look.” Jerome’s voice was heavy as he talked and he turned around, avoiding your gaze. He walked past you as he made his way back to his desk.

Rifling with objects inside a drawer, he waits for you to follow his orders. “I said go look.” You took note of the way his jaw clenched tightly and the how he tries to distract himself instead of thinking about your questions. “Go fucking look!” Jerome exclaims, motioning to the door. Even though you were used to the yelling that went around the precinct, the way Jerome had done it sent a chill down your spine. It was malicious and frankly, it was frightening.

Maybe you could find a way out if you were to try and find Jim’s former lover’s room. Without so much as a nod, you walk away and out of the door frame. The rustling seemed to stop but the clicking of the cards began again. Your hand glided across the smooth wall as you wandered down the deserted hallway. A long window was placed at the end of it, giving you a view of the city. Once you reached it, you took a moment to let your eyes search as much as you could.

The recording. It came back to you.

Jerome had been videoing himself after he shot Greenwood yesterday, before he took you here. His face was bloody from your collision and the residue from shooting the other man. When Jerome was finished speaking to the camera lens, he switched it over to you. You hadn’t spoke, but nodded to one of the ginger’s questions. Jim will know, you remember thinking that.

Jim knew about your conversation in the interrogation room that day. And though he was upset to hear about you kissing Jerome, there wasn’t anything either of you could’ve done about it then. Jim was probably scouring the city looking for you right now. The thought brought a sad smile to your face as you realized how much you missed being out in the daylight.

Without trying to dwell on it for much longer, you turn down into a random doorway, hoping that it would be one of the women’s rooms. Your eyes search the area, focusing on an identical wardrobe that was also in Jerome’s room. Hesitant at first, aware that there could be anything in this room, or anyone, that could pop out at you and risk your safety. After a few steps, you quicken your pace and make your way closer to the armoire.

The creak that sounded from the doors made you cringe, the awful noise echoing in your ears. As you search through the clothes, you pick the first thing that caught your eye, something simple. What was Jerome’s plan? Was he going to take you outside and teasingly flaunt you to the GCPD just for his amusement? Maybe then you could make a run for it, threaten him somehow.

All sorts of strategies and ideas combat in your mind as you reach in and pick out an outfit that seemed comfortable enough, and hopefully good for the weather, that is if he decides to be kind and let you get fresh air. You turn around with the fabric in your hands and wandered a bit in search for a bathroom to change in. A small connected room was in the same bedroom, flicking the light on and watching the room illuminate. As you close the door behind you, you finally, for the first time in twenty four hours, feel alone. Resting your head back against it, you breathe evenly, clutching the clothes tightly in your hands.

Once you grew comfortable with the silence, you get up and look into the mirror. With an empty mind, your hand reached up to your neck, ghosting your fingertips over the faint bruise that was starting to form. As you subconsciously swallowed, you noticed how sore your throat felt inside. You were embarrassed as you remembered what you let him do to you and the way you gave in so easily.

Trying not to let those thoughts plague you, you start to peel off the clothing that the man had put on you. You took your time replacing each fabric, at the same time trying to think of escape routes and what Jerome could possibly have planned for today.

Finally, as you straighten out your shirt, you jump when you suddenly hear a harsh knock on the door beside you. “Almost done, doll? We’re on a tight schedule today!” His loud, cheerful voice boomed through the door, invading the silence that once lingered.

Taking a deep breath, you try to compose yourself. While you were changing, you were thinking about ways to go along with his madness. Maybe if you pretend that he convinced you to turn over a new leaf and follow his actions, he’ll believe you and put his trust in you. If you try and act as if you don’t follow the GCPD anymore, maybe you’ll get lucky?

As you turn the doorknob, Jerome stands outside with a smile on his face. “Finally! Thought you died in there.” He laughs dramatically and you have to stop yourself from grimacing at the loud sound. “C’mon little miss detective, we got some work to do!” Never mind.

He grabs your hand and drags you of the bathroom and down the hall. He didn’t seem agitated anymore, acting as if his small outburst didn’t happen. That might be a good thing for you, to not let him dwell on it. The last thing you needed is to have Jerome angry at you. Even at the time, you knew that asking that question wasn’t a good idea, even if you truly do want to know the answer. With the mans sociopathic tendencies, no one knew what he was capable of, what he could truly do to you. And though you do have police training and you were sure that if Jerome were to try and fight you, you could counteract him, but with his impulsive decisions it’s difficult to know his next move, you were almost sure that he never did either.

As he pulled you along, you tried to think of any possible place he’s going to take you to. Checking off as many locations as you could, the last place you expected was the exact one he went to. You shouldn’t be surprised with him anymore.

The room was quiet as you waited.

When you arrived at the apartment complex and had followed Jerome up the stairs to a certain room he was looking for, you felt your breath hitch at the sight of the name on the door: Paul Cicero. You should’ve known he would come for his father.

Jerome opened the door and let you walk in first, a teasing smile on his face the entire time. You roamed around the room as you hear the door click shut behind you. No sign of any pictures relating to Jerome or his brother resided anywhere. Your fingers ghosted over the wooden counter as your eyes look over the arrangement of spices and utensils.

“Listen to me, baby,” Jerome’s voice cuts you out of your thoughts and when you look up to see where he was, you were surprised to see him just inches away from you. “When you hear that door open, I want you to go silent.” He orders, his eyes never daring to look away from yours. “This is gonna be fun.” He smiles devilishly and grabs your hand again, leading you over towards the other side of the room.

Only a few minutes pass until the door creaks and opens wide. Taps of shoes hit against the floor as the older man walks in, his cane swaying beside him. Not too long after he shuts the door, he freezes and calls out, “who’s there?” Jerome stays hidden, but the smile gave away his feelings. “I know someone’s there-“ You backed away suddenly when Jerome moved forward and wrapped a rope around his father’s neck. You tried to reach forward, your instincts coming to play, and help him, but with Jerome’s free hand, he tightly grabs your hip and pulls you behind him, limiting your reach.

“Hiya, pops. Long time.. no see.” A sinister laugh left Jerome’s mouth as he finished his sentence, tightening his grip as his one hand held either end of the rope. It reverberated in your mind until you realized that Jerome had tied his father to a chair with a cloth over his mouth.

“So, how you doin’?” Jerome rasps as he sits in a chair across from his father. You stood by the counter, a few feet away from them. It felt terrible to watch, all of it was against your moral code and especially with the oath you took to being a cop, watching this and not doing anything to stop it or to help the injured man was wrong. But that one thought in the back of your head that was trying to convince you that Jerome wasn’t going to hurt him, he was his father for fucks sake. And then you remember how you got into this mess.

“The silent treatment, huh? Hey, I’ll tell ya a story.” Jerome continues, having a one sided conversation with the man across from him. “You remember Kansas city, dad. The circus went through town every spring, right around my birthday.” His voice grows deeper as he talks, his emotions revealing themselves.

“There was this guy. Him and my mom used to drink and.. fornicate and beat the crap out of me. They’d make a whole night out of it. And I remember one time,” He put his hands out and started to get up from his chair slowly, keeping eye contact with Mr. Cicero.

“It was my ninth birthday, him and my mom had just finished round one of boozing, boning, beating up Jerome and decided to take a little break.” Jerome explains it in a way so casual, showing that he had grown accustomed to the abuse from his mother. “Anyway,” He turns and leans toward the table in front of you, picking up a knife and inspecting it as he talks.

“I was outside the trailer and you were there. And you said, “why are you crying, Jerome?”” He pauses and acts as if he’s going to cry. “It’s my birthday.. and my mom and the snake guy are beating me.” He made his voice higher, impersonating his younger self.

“And then you said, “this world doesn’t care about you or anyone else, Jerome. Better to realize that now.”” With his voice deeper and raspier pretending to be his father, the tone sent chills down your spine. Jerome pauses before continuing, “And that was it.” He looks over at his dad with a large smile.

“You see, there’s this guy, dad, he believes in me, he thinks I’m gonna be a star!” Jerome exclaims and rushed over to the man tied to the chair, pointing the knife at him dangerously. “And tonight.. all of Gotham will see that, too. Expect for you because you’ll be, well, ya know, dead.” Had it been in any other situation, you would’ve laughed. But you were about to witness a murder before your eyes.

Jerome reaches behind Paul and undoes the cloth that was knotted behind his head. Mr. Cicero began to plead with his son, but Jerome quickly shut it down, his anger coming to the surface. You watch them converse, or rather argue, about something, but Jerome’s words linger in the back of your head. He was abused? How come that was never in his file? How had that not been revealed to you?

An hysteric laugh cut you out of your thoughts. “That’s not why I’m gonna kill you!” Jerome smiles widely and turns back around, facing the table. With the knife still in one hand, he reaches the other forward and holds up blueprints. “Plans to Arkham Asylum,” he lets it fall from his hold, showing it to his father. Picking up something else, he turns around and shows him again, “And look at these, oh,” he walks over to Mr. Cicero and brushes the material against his cheek. “Letters between you and your troubled son. Innocent at first glance, but Detective Gordon, you remember him, right? You’ll feel little bumps.. a secret message, written in braille between you and your son discussing my escape!” He throws the envelopes and extends his arms out, regaining his energy and smiling happily.

Jerome makes his way back to the table and grabs a can off of it. “Finally, the knockout gas, used to disable the orderlies!” He moves it around before setting it back down. Walking back over to his father be speaks, “Cause you see, dad,” Jerome picks up the chair he was sitting in before. “This guy I was telling you about,” he places the chair down in front of Paul. “He’s the one who broke me out of Arkham. He doesn’t want anyone to know about that.” Jerome sits down on the backwards chair, not before looking back at you with a wink after he finished talking. Your jaw clenches as you let his words soak in.

“The police will find these letters and they’ll think, “the blind old fool really loved his son, what a wonderful father. Oh, there won’t be a dry eye in the house.”” Jerome takes his dads tie and lightly dabs his cheeks, pretending to wipe away tears.

“They’ll never believe it.” Mr. Cicero denies.

“Oh, sure they will,” Jerome shrugs nonchalantly. “Cops are dumb.” He pauses before straightening out in his chair and looking back at you. “Besides you, gorgeous.” He smiles in a charming manner and sends you another teasing wink, finding it amusing in the way you react.

“Oh, would’ja look at that?” He giggles at his joke and gestures towards the clock. “We gotta go, doll!” He gets up from his chair and moves it out of the way. “Sorry you’re gonna miss my big night, dad. Hey, you’re psychic. So tell me.. do I kill?”

Mr. Cicero inhales sharply and a vicious look overtakes his features as he responds, “You will be a curse upon Gotham. Children will wake from sleep screaming at the thought of you. Your legacy will be death and madness.”

Jerome smiles wickedly and leans down to the side of his fathers face. With a menacing whisper that sends chills down your spine, you hear,

“Ha. Ha. Ha.”

Moving away and grabbing Paul tightly, Jerome wraps up the meeting. “Welp, say hi to mom for me.” Before you could try to stop him as you rush over, Jerome lifts his arm and throws it down to connect his blade with his fathers eye.

Knock. Knock.

Jerome freezes, as do you. The ginger places a hand over Paul’s mouth to silence any pleas.

“GCPD.” Jim. That was Jim. You could go out there now and tell him that you were okay, that you didn’t need him to worry anymore. But something inside you prevented that. You didn’t know what it was and it made you feel sick. In that moment, the thought of staying with Jerome was an actual option. It made you feel nauseous.

Another knock sounded from behind the door. “GCPD. Mr. Cicero, it’s Detective Gordon. We need to speak with you about your son.” You look back over at Jerome, noticing that he was already watching you. He had a hard stare on his face as he notices the way you hesitate. Taking a deep breath, you nod your head slowly, telling him that you weren’t going to leave. The furrow in his eyebrows undoes itself and a wide smile grows on his face.

“Mr. Cicero?” At that exact moment, Jerome quickly plunges the blade through his fathers eye as Paul cries out in agony. With a quiet giggle from the ginger, he rushes away and grips your hand, pulling you out of the open window. Before he steps foot outside the frame, he digs his fingers into his pocket and pulls out a card. Tossing it to the floor as it lands over by his father, the figure on the card stock standing out.

The Joker.

It was perfect timing for Jerome as he turns the corner, watching Jim pull Harvey out of the room, the blue knockout gas floating out of the doorway. Collapsing to the floor, Jim leans against the wall, trying to catch his breath. As Jerome starts to whistle, he walks down the hallway toward the two. You watch with an anxious heart, your feet feeling like they were planted to the floor and your mouth sewed shut.

“Detective Gordon, old pal.” Jerome speaks, crouching down beside the cop. “That gas sure packs a-“ Jerome sighs as he stops Jim from trying to hit him. He takes the gun from the detective as Jim loses his balance and falls against him. “That’s cute.” Jerome mocks, but was quickly cut off when Jim mustered up enough strength and pushed him up against the wall.

With Jim’s hand around Jerome’s neck, he rasps playfully, “I’m sensing.. anger.”

“You killed Sarah Essen.” Jim says with a heavy tone. Jerome killed your boss? Was it before you had woken up? How did he never tell you? Jerome smiles at the truth, nodding his head as much as he could.

“Now I’m gonna kill you.” You should stop this. Stop this fight, one of them may die, Jerome still has the gun. As soon as you move forward a step or two, Jerome lifts up his arm to press the barrel of the gun against Jim’s head.

“Jerome!” You shout instinctively. So many people have died already, the last person you wanted to see shot was Jim Gordon. He was all you had left.

Jerome’s head shot over to look at you, caught off guard by your shout. Jim followed at the sound of your voice, his face softening as he realized that you were okay. Before he could do anything, Jerome hit him on the side of the head with the gun, knocking him unconscious. Before he fell into a sleep, you just barely heard him whisper, “Y/N.” You felt a piece of your heart shatter for the first time in a while.

“Ugh, c’mon, doll!” Jerome groans and stands up, brushing off his knees. “Never let me have any fun.” He pouts dramatically, looking over at you with his own version of puppy eyes. You didn’t know what reaction he was expecting of you as you stood there, taking glances over at the two men that you cared for knocked out on the floor before you.

“This is just the beginning, baby. Soon, I’ll be the King of Gotham with you beside me as my Queen.” Jerome smiles with genuine happiness, walking over to you. You couldn’t completely tell yet, but you were almost one hundred percent sure that Jerome had placed his trust in you, something that would clearly be difficult for someone like him, and you truly didn’t know why he chose you… and you truly didn’t know why you started to reciprocate it.

“You’ll see, doll. Everyone will see.”

Once you both made it back to Theo Galavan’s house, he brought you back to his room almost like it was a reflex. “Busy day, doll, busy day.” Jerome would mutter or occasionally sing. He had his hand in yours, swinging it back forth slightly, whether it was a subconscious thing or not.

It was obvious how much Jerome craved the physical contact, as you wouldn’t be able to recall the amount of times he’s held your hand today. His palms were slightly rough, you were sure it was because of his days at the circus, working day and night, traveling to so many places. You noticed that freckles had littered his arms and lead up to his hand, scattered on his pale skin. The orange hair that rested on his arm was barely visible, his adorning marks seeming to take the spotlight.

Taking you by surprise, Jerome stops abruptly and pulls you close to him. His left hand never leaves yours as his opposite takes hold of your hip. With a sharp intake of air, you look up at him, trying to figure out what he was going to do.

The hand that was holding yours moved it up in a position that looked like you were about to dance. You were proved right when Jerome took a step forward, placing your other hand on his shoulder and moving with you. It wasn’t an award worthy performance, but Jerome seemed to have fun.

“Was thinking about what you said earlier, beautiful.” He breaks the silence and looks down at you, stepping back as you followed. “And since I plan to make you my Queen,” he trails off and shrugs, “I guess you’d want an explanation as to why you’re here.” His hand tightens ever so slightly in yours. “I see something within you, doll.. that same glint that was in my eyes when I planned to murder Lila.” He spits out the last word with malice, showing that even just saying her name rose anger inside him.

You opened your mouth to protest his statement, but he makes sure to speak first. “Ah, ah, let me finish.” He sways his body lightly, still moving in step with you. “We can rule this city, just you and me. Everyone will be under our control.” Jerome smiles widely, showing his teeth. “You know you want it, baby, don’t try and deny it.” He twirls you and then quickly pulls you back toward him, into his chest.

“Jerome,” your mind went blank as you tried to think of how to refuse his words. Everything felt constricting, like just this little time of you dancing with him was narrowing down your chances for a future. You’re a cop, that’s what you were always going to be. You couldn’t hand over your life over to this maniac as he tries to convince you while he serenades you. If you agreed to this, your life would be over. What would happen when Jerome would get on someone’s bad side and they decided they needed him gone? What would be the point continuing this madness if the reason you started wasn’t there anymore? Once you realized that you began to consider it, you berated and cursed yourself for even taking the second to even think of it as a decision. Besides, how could you leave Jim? He taught you everything about being a good cop, he was there every step of the way. How could you abandon him now?

“Shh, doll, I can hear your thoughts from here.” Jerome keeps swaying, leaning forward and whispering in your ear. His voice snaps you out of your options, blinking at the sudden intrusion. His hand leaves your hip and rests on the back of your head, pushing on it gently to lean it against his chest. “Just imagine it, sugar. We’ll run this city and make it better- or, well, worse. We can do whatever we want, whenever we want without any consequences because we’ll be the ones making the rules.” Jerome doesn’t stop moving once, the actions seeming to spur him on more. He was never one to slow down.

“All you have to do is say yes.” He whispers.

All you have to do is say yes.

The room was buzzing with chatter, the area filled with people. Women and men were dressed in their finest attire as they conversed with each other, some laughing and others smiling.

You stood in a long dress, looking around the vast room. You were told to blend in with the others in the room as you were given the clothes to wear to match. A mask was placed over your eyes, it looked similar to one you’d see at a masquerade ball. It was the same color as your dress, a dull, dark blue. Jerome didn’t want it vibrant, he had hinted to you that he had some sort of plan in mind for you, but he never told you what it was or when he was going to put it into action.

Before you both had left to make your way over to the event, Jerome had stopped you before you could walk away. He took your hip in one hand and held your neck, not in a hostile way, he just wanted to feel your skin under his hand. His eye contact with you never failed to make goosebumps form on your skin. When he broke the silence between you both, he said, “Think about what I said.” He whispered before continuing, “We will be worshiped. Just give in to me.” Jerome smiles that crazed grin at you and then walks away.

For the half an hour you’ve been standing here, you’ve reviewed your options millions of times. It made you feel sick that you actually considered the life that Jerome could give you. Even if he didn’t say it, he did care for you. And you were sure that wasn’t an easy thing to admit, especially with a personality like his.

If you go with Jerome, so many things could backfire. What if he was leading you on and decided to throw you away once he persuaded you to agree? What if you die a villain in your story? You became a cop because you wanted to help others, not hurt them. All of the things Jerome stands for are the exact thing you don’t. He thinks it’s entertaining to watch people die, to kill them with no remorse. He thinks there aren’t any consequences for some of the things he does and you’d be lying if you said that there wasn’t a little spark of worry inside you that, that could be the reason he might die some day.

But if you went with your gut and stayed true to yourself.. you weren’t sure where it could lead you. Would you still be offered your same job? What happens when they find out you hadn’t tried to escape from the lunatic and they fire you without any notice? There’s zero possibility that you’d be able to make it anywhere else in this city. Worst of all, Jim may never speak to you again. You knew that you wouldn’t be able to live with that.

As you stood in the back, you observed the room. The stage was empty of people, the tables and chairs occupied by wealthy couples, and.. Bruce Wayne? Your shoulders dropped as well as your heart.

“First, I’m gonna kill Bruce Wayne..” Jerome’s words from last night had rang in your head like a chime. Your breathing altered slightly, your chest moving up and down faster. Against your better judgment, you began taking quiet, smooth steps over to the boy. He stood next to an older man as they looked forward at the stage. As soon as you became just a few feet away from the billionaire boy, a voice echoed through the room.

“Good evening. I’m Dr. Lee Tompkins.” Your head immediately looked over at the stage. You knew her.. the Medical Examiner, Jim’s girlfriend. Your mind tries to figure out how Jerome ties into this, until you hear, “Over the years, we had magicians come in and entertain our children. So, tonight, we have one of the magicians here for you. Without further ado, please allow me to present to you.. The Great Rudolpho.” Lee smiles and the stage light travels over to a box with a woman in a pink tutu and mask, similar to yours, standing in front of it.

As she opens the box, she feigns surprise once she notices it was empty. When she closes it and stalls for a second, she opens the box again, a man inside it now. He yawns and then gasps once he realizes everyone can see him. The crowd laughs at the man’s actions and claps.

If it were possible, you felt your heart sink even lower than it already was. Jerome had a handsome suit on with a fake beard and mustache, a big hat and an eye mask on his face.

“Greetings, ladies and germs! I am, indeed, the Great Rudolpho!” His accent was strange, it felt wrong in your ears compared to his normal voice. He bows, as well as the woman. Your gaze follows the woman as you look her up and down, trying to shake the familiarity that she has. Your head moved to look at the floor and your eyes fell shut as you realized.. Barbara Kean.

When you look back up, a bird flies through the crowd. A red cloth was in Jerome’s hand, signaling to you that he was the one that did it.

“For my first act, I’ll require a volunteer!” His voice rang out into the crowd through the microphone. “Let me see,” he looks away from everyone and points his finger as he says, “Duck, duck, duck.. duck, duck, duck.. goose.” He points forward, just a few feet away from you. His gaze returns as he stares towards where his finger was pointed. You quickly look to your left as you see Bruce Wayne’s perplexed expression. The man had whispered something to the boy as the assistant, Barbara made her way toward him and offered out her hand for him to take.

You couldn’t let Jerome kill him, let alone on a stage in front of a crowd of people. You needed to stop this, to reach out and pull him away from Barbara so he couldn’t take her hand, because that act itself might cost him his life.

Hesitantly, Bruce accepted her hand, following her as she walked away. You walked forward impulsively, about to reach out to try and grab one of them, but before you could, Barbara turned around and sent you a wink from under her mask. It made you freeze since you weren’t expecting it, and once you broke out of it, you realized that the two were already on stage.

“Hello, young man.” Jerome was standing beside a box that was lying down on a table. Your eyes widened when you saw what it truly was and you suddenly felt nauseous. Your mouth opened just slightly, but it was enough to catch the man’s attention. As Jerome grabbed the large blades, he gave you a slow, small nod, the same kind that you did to him when Jim was knocking on Mr. Cicero’s door.

“Well, Bruce, this won’t hurt a bit.” Jerome clashes the metal together, a loud, reverberating sound that stung your ears. “Is there a doctor in the house?” The crowd laughs at his words, but your head turns once you hear the older man beside you begin to protest, obviously nervous for the boy’s safety. Without any hesitation, Jerome slides the blades through the box, making you flinch. They pull the box apart, showing you - and the man - that Bruce was okay. You let out a sigh of relief involuntarily, matching with the man beside you.

Barbara took Bruce back to his guardian and then stayed put, waiting for Jerome to keep talking. “Now, for this other trick, we’re gonna need a new volunteer!” He shouts, a smile on his face. He pretends to look around before stopping and gasping. “Well, look at that! What’s a gorgeous girl like you doing in a place like this?” Barbara walks a few steps before holding out her hand with a smirk. You try to hide your reaction, but your eyes widen slightly. Is this what he was planning?

Knowing no better way to get out of this, you take her hand. The room watched you two closely and you felt the eyes from Bruce Wayne and his butler watching.

Barbara smiles and begins walking back over to the stage, taking you with her. Both of your heels clicked on the floor, filling the silent room. She let you walk up the stairs first before following after you. You hesitantly make your way towards Jerome, the smile bright as ever on his face. The beard and mask did wonders to hide his identity as you grow closer.

“Who do we have under that mask?” His accent was louder as you neared him. Was this apart of his act? Some sort of trick that he’d ‘guess’ who you were and stun the others?

Jerome circles you once before standing back in front of you, that infamous grin on his face never wavering. He lifts his hand and places it on your chin, turning your head every which way, the exaggerated action producing laughs from the crowd. He hums and takes his hand away, playfully stroking his beard. A quiet, barely audible gasp was heard from the crowd, but you knew that the only people that could hear it was you and Jerome. His smirk widens as the small noise brushes by his ears.

As quick as you could, your eyes dart out to the people, trying to figure out who it was. Your eyes caught the two in the back, Lee now gone from behind them (did Jerome have something to do with that or was she just grabbing a water?), and Bruce’s mouth agape. He mumbled something to the older man as he looks your way, seeming to have recognized who you were, even from behind the mask. The video Jerome made must’ve been aired on the news that night, that’s the only possible way he’d know.

“I think I know ya from somewhere! Yeah.. I think I saw ya on the TV at some point.” Jerome taps his chin as he looks off, pretending to think. “Well, gorgeous,” he walks closer and grabs your hand gently, raising it to his lips and says, “Why don’t’cha stay up here for a while, huh?” He kisses your hand and looks back over at the crowd, shouting out, “Who agrees?” Cheers and hollers are heard from the crowd as Jerome lifts up your arm slightly, showing you off. You feel goosebumps raise on your skin at the attention, deciding to avert your gaze to the man beside you. “You’re gonna love what’s to come, doll face.” Jerome whispers teasingly and leads you toward Barbara, before walking away and asking for the Deputy Mayor to come up to the stage.

You watch carefully as he ghostly trails his fingers over the various knives. You knew what was going to happen, and yet you felt hopeless to stop it.

Finally, when Jerome picks one up, he looks up and smiles devilishly. “By the way, nobody here.. is getting out alive.” The crowd gasps and shouts as Jerome throws the knife, lunging the blade into the mans chest. A chill went down your spine as you watch Jerome shrug and the Deputy Mayor fall to the floor.

Catching you off guard (though, with Jerome, you really shouldn’t be anymore), loud gunshots echo throughout the room. Lights fall and break as people scream and try to flee, only to fail. As you expected, Jerome laughs loudly, tearing off the disguise.

“Finally! This thing is itchy.” He grumbles and scratches his chin and cheeks, light red marks forming, only to disappear a few seconds after. He turns and looks over at you as chaos is still being created. With a sinister grin, he walks over to you and forcefully grabs your hips. “Been waiting to get my hands on ya. Miss the way you feel against me.” He whispers hotly in your ear, making goosebumps form on your skin. He giggles as he finishes speaking, leaning down and leaving a kiss on your neck before moving back to the center stage.

When Jerome lets you go, a change in the corner of your eye made you look over. A gasp left your mouth as you watched Lee be tied up to a wheel. As she fights back, her eyes search the room until they land on you. With the mask still on your face, you didn’t know if she could tell who you were or not. But you were sure that your concerned expression was all she needed to know.

Breaking you out of your daze, Jerome’s voice invaded your ears again. “Sorry, Jimbo, it’s just little ol’ me!” Your eyes widened at the name. He’s talking to Jim? Ignoring your racing heart, you felt a part of it calm down to know that he was okay.

“Are you outside? Oh, you are, aren’t you?” Jerome talks animatedly to the phone that was pressed up to his ear. You only just noticed that he was directly in front of a camera, quickly moving away from him. “Goodie!” He giggles.

There were mumbles from the receiver, but you heard Jim’s voice clearly as he spoke, “I swear to god, if you’ve hurt her,” but the detective didn’t get to finish his sentence as Jerome cut him off.

“Which one?” He smiles and laughs. “See for yourself! This is live television after all!” He turns and walks towards you. “Oh, whoops! Get this thing off your face, doll.” His fingers curl under your mask as he takes it off and throws it haphazardly. His arm wraps around your waist as he brings you close to him. The camera pans over to Barbara as she pretends to shoot Lee.

You hear a faint, “Y/N?” from the other side of the call.

“Huh? You mean my girl right here?” Jerome mocks confusion as he looks over at you, squeezing your hip. “You know her?” He laughs at his own joke, the loud cackle reverberating off the walls.

“You son of a bitch.” Jim’s words were laced with malice as he talked.

“True, but.. not the point.” Jerome shakes his head. He lets you go, not before pressing a kiss to your forehead, for himself and to make Jim more upset, and walks back over to the camera lens. “Lets talk about what I want!” He pauses before listing off, “$47 million dollars, a helicopter, obviously, the dry cleaning I left at Mr. Chang’s, be careful, that man is a crook! And oh, I don’t know.. a pony!” He smiles widely as he knows Jim was getting more agitated as time went by. “You got 10 minutes before I start killing people and, remember, this is being broadcasted to every home in Gotham, so.. ya know, don’t let people die. Bye!” He laughs hysterically into the phone, suddenly coming to a stop as he hangs up the phone. He turns and says, “I think that went well.”

“Enough!” The random voice caught your ears immediately, your eyes scouring the crowd to find where it came from. “You need to pack up your pathetic little side show and leave.” Galavan.

Jerome turns back to the front and smiles, “Is that right?”

Theo walks towards the stage as he speaks, “It may presumptuous to speak for all the citizens of Gotham, but we are sick of you! You’re a small, vicious man with a pathetic need for attention.” Jerome’s smile never falters as he bows proudly. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion at his words, obviously rehearsed and acted out beforehand. What was his plan? Had Jerome been rehearsing this part with him as well and you didn’t know? “Enough, man, enough.”

“I’m curious what you’re leverage is here. Mr…?” Jerome trails off, walking towards the man.

He turns towards the camera and artificially says, “Theo Galavan.” More of his plan seems to reveal itself to you as seconds went by.

“Well, Mr. Theo Galavan, if you don’t sit down,” Jerome moves back some of Galavan’s hair playfully. “I’m going to shoot you.. in the face!” He smiles widely and started to walk away again, towards the crowd.

“I know there is some human decency left in you,” Jerome teasingly points to himself, as if challenging Theo’s words. “If you need to take a hostage, take me. But let these people go home, to their families, to their children,” before he could finish, Barbara came over and hit his head with a hammer.

She sighs, “boring.”

“Right?” Jerome agrees and walks back towards you. Barbara makes her way back to Lee as she argues with her.

“Isn’t this fun, gorgeous?” He smiles widely and grabs your hand, unexpectedly twirling you. He lets you unroll all the way until his fingers straighten out, and then tugs you back into his grasp. You land on his chest as his opposite hand takes home on your hip. “Your heart racing, the adrenaline rush, the feeling of your body on fire, oh! It’s exhilarating.” He laughs and steps in line with you as he repeats his action from earlier, placing your hand on his shoulder as he holds your other palm.

“When you come with me, this is all gonna be ours. Everything, everyone will be under our control, our thumbs.” Jerome’s eyes convey the excitement and the anticipation that he felt in that moment. The way he describes it, the once in a lifetime offer, a promise for an unpredictable and chaotic future that Jerome so desperately craved. And he had picked you to spend it with.

He stepped forward and around as he held you, not caring about the numerous eyes that watched you both, or he just didn’t notice, too caught up with you. His grip tightened quickly as the hand on your hip traveled down to your thigh, suddenly dipping you back. “Promise me somethin’, doll.” He leans down and whispers in your ear, “Never forget me.” He brings you back up in a standing position with a bright smile on his face. His hand travels up in a fast motion, circling around your neck, resting his palm against the skin like he had done earlier. Your breath hitches as he leans down and presses his lips against yours, his fingers ever so slightly digging into your skin. “Show time, toots.” He whispers against your lips with a smile.

Jerome walks back towards the middle of the stage, grabbing the microphone harshly. “Well, I think it’s time for tonights first official victim! You all know and love, poor rich boy, parents murdered in an alley, and my second favorite volunteer.” He smiles teasingly and looks back at you with a wink. “Where is.. Bruce Wayne!” He calls out to the silent room, waiting. He talks into the mic in a softer tone, trying to appeal to the boy to come out of hiding, “Did you know I’m an orphan, too, Bruce? I killed my parents, though. Where are you hiding?” His eyes search the area, before yelling into the mic, “Bruce!”

“Kill his butler.” Barbara suggests, her hands on her hips. She had an angry look on her face, probably from the conversation she had with Lee.

“All right, last chance, Bruce. But it’s about to get very butler brainy out here.” Jerome grumbles and motions toward the older man in the crowd. You watch the situation unfold, unsure of what to do. With the amount of time that had passed, you were positive Jim had made it inside the building. Maybe he had Bruce? You hoped that was the case.

“Eh, I’m bored. Shoot the butler!” Jerome sighs and says in a defeated tone. He was losing his patience and it was obvious.

“Stop!” A yell sounded from the curtain as Bruce sprinted toward his guardian. The man had begun to scold him, before Bruce had whispered something to him. Jerome quickly ran from the stage and forcefully held Bruce, a knife to his throat.

He backed up towards the stage as he smiles. “Let’s get this started, huh?” Jerome giggles and keeps the knife steady against the boys neck.

A gunshot echoed from one side of the building, Jim Gordon making his way through the red curtain. You felt relief wash over you as you saw him, but there was something else you felt in that moment.. something you couldn’t place yet.

“I don’t have a clean shot.” Jim aimed the gun at the murderer, staying as still as possible.

“Stay calm, Bruce.” The older man had told the younger boy, trying to keep the boy’s attention on him.

“Seems like we’ve got ourselves a pickle! What do ya say, Brucey-boy, wanna boost our ratings?” Jerome laughs crazily and presses the blade against the boys pale skin, starting to draw blood. “Smile!”

As you started to rush over to the pair, you were too distracted for the boys safety to realize someone had woken up. With a loud voice, Galavan yelled, “I said enough!”

Jerome begrudgingly let go of Bruce as the boy ran straight off the stage and to his guardian. He turned and faced Theo, only to be met with a blade to his neck. You stood paralyzed as you watched the scene, your mouth agape and goosebumps raised on your skin.

“I know, I know, this is not what we rehearsed.” Theo whispers to Jerome, sinking down to the floor. “I’m so sorry, Jerome. You have real talent, but now you see, the plot thickens, enter the hero.”

Jerome begins to speak, his mouth and teeth covered in blood. “You.. said..” he tries to take in a breath, but it backfires. “That I was gonna be…” Jerome’s words cut themselves short as his eyes dilate tenfold, that sinister smile permanent on his face. Before he lost the battle between living, his iris flash over to you, taking in one last look before becoming lifeless.

What about the future he wanted? The promise he made to you? He was going to be the King of Gotham with you by his side as the Queen. None of it was an option now. None of it made sense without the man that started it all, that had swore to give you what he convinced you that you wanted. What was the point now?

One of the last things he had said to you replayed in your mind like a broken record, “Promise me somethin’, doll. Never forget me.”

You wouldn’t be able to, even if you tried.

#jerome valeska #jerome valeska x reader #cameron monaghan #cameron monaghan x reader #jeremiah valeska x reader #jeremiah valeska #jerome x reader #jerome valeska smut #jerome valeska x you #jeremiah x reader #jeremiah valeska x you #gotham jerome

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i-smoke-chapstick · 2 months

Text

‘WILDFLOWER AND BARLEY,

-GOTHAM!EDWARD NYGMA X READER-

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; Sometimes you don’t think you deserve him….other times, you think it’s for the best that you stay.

⋆ tags/warnings. GOTHAM!riddler x female reader. SMUT AND ANGST!! reader is toxic, but eddie is too, so its ok. eddy being vanilla but also strangely dominant. guys this fic is FILTHY. also,, part 3 to gotham characters eating you out. takes place with like season 2 eddy, post kringle. Did i write a fic inspired by a Hozier song that isn’t even released yet? yes. readers taking advantage of eddy. but also, eddy is more than willing to give. kind of a character study. im so sorry if i made reader too mean ive had this idea for a week😭

fic requested by @clementine-writes-things <3

♫ “My coffee black in my bed at 3 / You’re too sweet for me. You’re too sweet for me.” Wildflower and Barley by Hozier

You’d fucked up, majorly.

God, what were you thinking?

Edward Nygma, the quirky forensics guy. The loon, as your fellow officers eloquently put it. And you didn’t necessarily disagree. He was certainly a peculiar fellow. He had always a thing for…what was her name? Kristen Kringle. That was it. You’d been working with him for years, watching him moon after her. You could…understand the appeal, you guessed. She had a sexy sixties librarian type of thing going for her. She kept to herself. Maybe you should’ve done the same. She’d dissapeared a few weeks ago.

You somehow landed yourself in the bed of Edward Nygma. You’d been hooking up…For the past two weeks in a row. No judgement, yeah?

It started as a joke. You and the other officers, chatting with beers and obnoxious comments towards the other tools in the GCPD. Jim Gordon…Harvey Bullock. The way the men couldn’t seem to keep their mouthes shut, especially Jim.

Well, you’d gotten plenty tipsy, staying after work. You pummled those beers back like it was your last night alive. And hell, living in gotham? As an officer? It very well could be.

They were all drunk and laughing out of their minds. Anything anyone said seemed overly funny. Especially when one of your fellow cops brought up the name, “Nygma” like the name was it’s own disease.

“You think Y/N could sleep with him?”

“Yeah, Y/N, go fuck the loon. I wonder what it’s like.”

“You think he says riddles when hes cumming?”

“Whats long, hard, and has ‘cum’ in the middle?”

The numerous voices of your “friends” rung out, and in the moment, drunk out if your mind, you too thought it was the funniest thing in the world.

“I could do it.” You affirmed, alcohol giving you the liquid courage you wouldn’t typically have. After the “oooooo”ing from some of your coworkers, you decided, fuck it. Edward was tall, had nice cheekbones, and was smart. You could do worse than a one night stand.

So you confidently marched into that forensics room, high on the dare the other cops had given you.

You found him, looking into one of the forensics mirrors. He was muttering to himself and you snorted. Weirdo. Oh well.

He pushed up his glasses when you two made eye contact. He was sweating, for some reason, in that lanky labcoat and rubber-gloved hands. He stood up straight and went rigid when he saw you.

“Ms. L/N-“ He was about to question, when you rammed your lips onto his. You remember it like yesterday- how hesitant he was. The way he parted for air, breathing wildly at you. He kept trying to ask questions the whole time you were eagerly undressing him. But he didn’t seem to mind your fowardness.

Well, just your luck, that one night stand was the best fuck of your life. The way his cock fitted perfectly into your body, like it was made for your cunt alone. You two fucked on the forensics cabinets, your coworkers in the next room over, and it was exhilarating. Especially when the usually reserved Ed got unusually rough, pulling your hair and smacking your ass just right.

By the time you two were done…you were fucked out of your mind. Pleasantly surprised.

Since then, you hadn’t been able to get away. You told the cops it was vanilla, and reveled in their dismay. But…you came back for seconds. And then thirds. And then fourths. And then you couldn’t remember the last time you woke up in your own bed.

And just as if you were Kristen…he started following you. Your coworkers snickered. You’d see homemade cupcakes left on your desk. You’d catch him staring at you from the other side of the precint. You writhed under his gaze. For a man with not much expirence, he was obnoxiously good at sex. And he was even more obnoxiously good at not understanding the meaning of coworkers with benefits, and not a relationship.

But…mornings like these? You can’t complain.

Taking yourself back to the present, you awoke in his bed. The sunlight of the open windows bled through your eyelids, and you felt yourself smack your lips. You blinked yourself awake, same as you always did. You shifted underneath the covers, which had been neatly adjusted over you. It was infuriatingly comfortable. You let a yawn escape your lips.

“Ah, good! You’re awake!” You heard his voice chime, far off in the kitchen. You looked up, seeing his tall frame. He stared at you adoringly, and you felt your heart pang.

He carried a tray of coffee and breakfast. You sat up. It was the usual morning routine. He made the most exquisite breakfasts for you.

“A necessity to some, a treasure to many. I’m best enjoyed among pleasant company. Some like me hot, some like me cold. Some prefer me mild, others prefer me bold. What am I?” He spoke the riddle quickly.

You blinked at him, tired. You shrugged nonchalantly.

He made his way over to you, swiftly and delicatley placing the tray in your lap.

“Coffee.” He looked a bit dissapointed at your lack of answer, but brightened back up instantly. “Almost black, not quite. 1 Sugar. No cream. Just how you like it.” He noted, and it was in this moment, you felt the weight of your actions. He’d memorized everything about you. Whatever records you liked, he’d play softly. He’d learned your favorite flavor cupcake, and how you took your coffee. Gods, he’d even bought the brand of toothpaste you had at your house, so it was familiar brushing your teeth in the morning.

You squinted, adjusting yourself to the sunlight of the room. Golden. You felt the weight of the tray, and met his gaze. God, it was intense. The way his big, puppy dog like eyes harrowed in on you. Like you were the world.

He was practically wagging his tail, watching you take a slow sip of coffee. He wanted praise, as though perfected it, finally.

He was too sweet for you. You didn’t deserve any of this. But selfishly…you couldn’t resist.

You gave him a small nod in approval, letting the liquid glide down your throat. Damn it, The coffee was perfect.

He positioned himself next to you on the bed, sitting, legs crossed. He looked at you almost creepily, eyes never leaving as you finished your breakfast and coffee. You didn’t say a word to him, but you did listen to him ramble quite a bit. Every now and then he’d ask a casual question, and you’d stay silent, or give him a one worded answer. You’d see his smile falter, but he’d continue.

When you were done, he’d grab the tray from your hands. You let him do the work for you. You liked his bed. He came back, eyes big and bright. He sat once more, looking at you expectantly. You furrowed your brows.

“…What?”

He shrugged, giving a slightly nervous, manic giggle. You cringed a bit, but faltered when you felt his fingertips glide across your thigh.

Oh. Thats what.

“…We have work in an hour.” You replied. The mantra played in your head. You don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve him. You felt guilty.

“I’ll be quick.” He affirmed, peeling the covers back. Oh, fuck it. Who were you to deny him?

He didn’t lie, he was fast. The covers exposed your skin, still undressed from the previous night. You felt the cool air on your thighs and pussy, and couldn’t help it. You caved.

In an instant, he was worshipping your legs, working his way up. He kept eye contact with you, laying gentle bites and pecks into the plush of your skin.

He kissed his way up, tonguing the bite marks he left in his wake. You shivered when his lips hovered over your pussy. He wasted no time. No, he didn’t tease you, he needed to please you as quickly as he could. It was a need for him.

His tongue came into contact with your pussy lips, and you shivered. Instinctivley, you threaded your hands through his morning messy hair, and shoved his face into you. He reciprocated instantly, wanting nothing more than to make you feel good. He licked up and down, tongue flicking gently on your cute little pearl of a clit.

He circles it and taps it with his tongue, saliva dripping and mixing with your juices. His movements are quick and calculated, and he indulges you, body and soul. He hums in pleasure when you arch your back up into him uncontrollably. It’s almost uncharacteristic- the way he switches from being so soft and gentle, to practically making out with your pussy. You feel his fingers dig into your thighs, like he’s a whole different person when he’s mouth fucking you.

Your moaning and shaking, saying his name over and over. Somehow, your getting off to this. To the idea you don’t deserve him. That he’s such a nicer, better, smarter person than you. And although he doesn’t vocalize it, you wonder if he strangely shares the sentiment.

It’s almost like he knows. Like he’s self-aware- of all your selfish thoughts. Like this, him eating you out, him on his knees for you, making you breakfast in bed- is some sort of revenge.

He knows what he’s doing. He’s making you feel awful, guilty for your mistreatment of him- by giving you more and more of him. And you find yourself cumming in his mouth at the thought.

He greedily laps at your swollen clit, overstimulating you. You let out a loud yelp, and he keeps going, only for a few more seconds.

It’s weird. He’s weird. But as you sober up from your orgasm, shaking underneath him, you brush those strange thoughts from your head.

You look into his gentle eyes again, watching him ramble off apologies. You two will most definitely be late to work. You scold yourself. Why would you think such an odd thing? No, he’s a complete sweetheart. Not a degrading bone in his body. You think.

Yet…you still feel the bruises forming on your thighs. And the burning guilt of using him.

You left his aparment in a hurry, driving yourself insane. You seem to convice yourself it was a weird orgasm thought, maybe you’re more kinky than you thought; for some pseudo pyschological self degradtion.

You go to the precint, just as you do every other day. The work is effectively still just as boring and your peers are still just as insufferable.

You’re given a few files by some mysoginistic cop you haven’t aquainted yourself with, who obviously assumed you were the new record keeper. You snort, but decide to take it. You browse over the files, snooping. They are forensic files, and your heart drops. Ah. You’ll have to give these to him.

You enter the forensic room without knocking- at least, you’re about to. But you hear him mumbling to himself, and decide to listen in for a moment. Curiosity getting the best of you.

“You’re too good to her.” You hear him argue with…himself? “You need to show her whose in charge.”

“I am!” He retaliates to his own voice.

“By making her coffee?” He snarls, and your brows furrow. He smashes a file cabinet closed loudly. You jump.

“Yes!” Ed’s voice growls out, fed up. “If you were smart enough to understand-“ He begins, and you’ve heard enough. You enter the room.

Ed looks at you bewildered, and you look at the same. He’s sweating, and his hair is in dissaray. You two make eyecontact and you grimace. What the hell?

You hardly register what he was actually saying, and more that he was having a seemingly very heated conversation with himself. You watch him fumble with his glasses.

“…Ed?” You question, and he snaps.

“What are you doing here?” His voice is quick and sharp. Thats uncharacteristic. You wince.

“Uh, files.” You nod to the papers in your hands, and he blinks, standing up straight. He clears his throat.

“Right.” He recovers, quickly. You narrow your eyes at him, and hum, giving them to him. He’s about to speak, but you rush yourself out of the room, heart pounding.

He is weird. He is a freak. You chime. Your coworkers have been right.

Any shred of pity you had for him has dwindled significantly, and you mull it over in your mind.

Maybe you do deserve eachother, You think. You’re the best he’s going to get.

#x reader #gotham #gotham x reader #batman #batman rogues #batman x reader #gotham villains x reader #batman rouges gallery #dc comics #gotham edward #gotham edward nygma #edward nygma gotham #edward nygma x reader #edward nygma #edward nygma x reader smut #the riddler gotham #the riddler smut #the riddler #the riddler x reader

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gotham-uni-council · 10 months

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Some people got confused on the newer electives at our school, so I’ve complied a list for you!! ^^

Strange Gotham University electives

Gothams Vigilantes and Villains: A crash course into both the protecters and destroyers of Gotham! It focuses on many topics including origins, first sightings, changes throughout the year (appearance otherwise), Suit designs, relationships with other hero’s and villains, etc

Batty gadgets and tech: A mini-course for engineering students looking into the schematics of Batman’s gadgets.

Villainous formulas: A mini-course for chemistry students analyzing things like Joker venom, Fear gas, and Banes venom.

Ivy botany: A unit in Botany class where we study the unique biology of Ivys plants as well as her pollens/spores.

Villain phycology: A unit in physcoanalysis where we look at what we know about the villians of Gotham and determine what went wrong in their lives and what we could’ve done to make them better.

V&V costume design: A mini-unit in cosmetics class where we look at the different suits used over the year and determine their effectiveness vs style.

And finally my personal favorite, Batfamily Conspiracy: It’s more of a club then a class, but a bunch of us get together every week and look at the facts and theories to try and figure out the identity’s of the Bafamily (and the Joker sometimes). The running theory is that Joker is Batman’s (who we believe is either Jim Gordon or a close relative of him) ex lover who took to a life of crime after being rejected and let down harshly by the man.

If you wish for more, I’ll see what I can do, but for now enjoy ^^ -Circe

#oc rp #only in gotham #only in gotham rp #onlyingotham #open rp #only in gotham blog

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multifandomfanficss · 2 months

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It’s About Time

Ed Nygma/The Riddler x Reader

Prompt: Ed offers to help you with time management when you tell him you’re stressed at work. Your conversation is interrupted by an attack on the GCPD by the Maniax.

Warnings: Mentions of murder, cannibalism, r*pists, abuse, and general graphic violence. Gotham typical violence. Mental health struggles. Sensory issues and meltdowns common with autism. Panic. Near death experiences. Claustrophobia. References to being buried alive. Nightmares.

A/N: I’m rewatching Gotham and I didn’t realize the missed potential for hurt/comfort the first time I watched this show 7 years ago. My work load has been really heavy lately, but this show broke me out of my writers block and I made time for the writing bug. This takes place in the middle of Ed’s Riddler arc. He hasn’t fully become the Riddler yet, but he has already made his first kill. The reader has qualities of an autistic person, but is not explicitly said to be autistic. I accidentally code a lot of my characters to be autistic because I am, but this was more intentional to reflect Ed’s autistic coding. Feel free to read into it or not! You don’t have to be autistic to read and hopefully enjoy this! Crossposted on my AO3 adriansglasses.

“I’ve been so stressed lately.” You sigh. “It’s like I can’t get anything done that I actually need to get done.” You stand in the hallway of the precinct talking to your friend Ed. You were stressing about this case and Jim Gordon was making you go through hundreds of old files for him. You were never part of the real action, but the horrifying crime scene photos and evidence you had to pull through everyday was taking a toll on you. Gordon’s time crunches never helped either. You understood that lives were often on the line, but that didn’t make it any easier.

“What can some people never get enough of and others say is too much? What has the ability to fly when having fun or is stuck completely frozen when you need it to move?” He smiles. You stare at him blankly. You had not been getting enough sleep. You loved hearing his riddles, but you were never the best at giving him the answers. It was so hard for your mind to keep track of it all. “Do you give up?” He asks.

“My brain just isn’t braining right now.” You laugh. “What’s the answer?”

“Time.” He beams, happy with himself. “You should try to implement a better time management plan. You look tired all the time. It’s like you’re not even sleeping.”

“Thanks, Ed.” You give a dry laugh.

“You know what I mean.” You nod in an agreement with him. “You might be the only person who usually knows what I mean.” He says, fiddling with his fingers and the buttons on his coat.

He was right. Nobody quite seemed to get him, but nobody quite seemed to get you either. You had always felt this odd draw to him that you could never quite explain. Truthfully you think you have feelings for him, but you always bury them. He saw you as a friend and he really needed a friend. Besides he had been pinning over Kristen since before you even got to the precinct. You had mixed feelings towards her. On one hand you felt bad for her. She was always getting mixed up with shitty boyfriends who treated her poorly, but on the other hand she had a mean streak. You never liked how she treated Ed. It was like he wasn’t a person with feelings to her and that made you so angry.

“You’re right. I haven’t been sleeping.” You tell him.

“Why is that?” He asks.

“We live in Gotham. With the terrifying shit we see everyday, I don’t know how anyone sleeps.”

“Are you having nightmares again?” He asks, his face painted with concern.

“It’s fine. It’s just work stress. It’s just this case. I’m fine.” You smile. It wasn’t a real smile. Your smiles always came so naturally around Ed that he knew something was off. He was about to press when you heard gunshots coming from down the hall. Your body immediately froze like a dear in headlights in the middle of the hallway.

You’ve had violent people in the precinct before and it always made you nervous, but this was different. The Maniax were on the loose and you knew they were too unhinged to care about survivors or bargains. With Jerome Valeska at the helm, along side cannibals, rapists, and murderers you were terrified. They’d escaped from Arkham days ago and already managed to murder dozens of people. This was far too close to the action for you, as you heard Jerome’s laugh bellowing down the hall from the bullpen; a laugh you remembered from one of your early cases at the precinct. You had felt bad for him and tried to help him when his mother died. You will never forget the laugh he let out when Jim realized he wasn’t as innocent as you’d thought. It ran a chill through your spine.

Everything started moving too fast when you realized you were being pulled down the hall quickly. Once you realized you were holding hands, you tightly grasped Ed’s hand, not wanting to be separated from him. He brings you further down the hall into the ME’s lab.

“W-where are we going?” You stutter. It’s like your mouth can’t keep up with your racing mind.

“Do you trust me?” He looks at you trying to stay calm.

“Ed, what are you doing?” You’re panicking. He can tell. It’s not hard to tell, as your hands fidget and your breathing is heavy. You’re trying to stay calm.

“(Y/N), I need you to trust me.” He places his hands on your shoulders in an effort to ground you with the pressure. You close your eyes and nod, hesitantly. You do trust him.

Ed runs to the cold lockers and opens one, checking to see if it’s empty. He finds a dead body inside. You cringe. Seeing bodies is rare for you and you’re still getting used to it.

“Oh dear… okay… second times the charm…” He mumbles to himself trying to find an empty locker. “Bingo!” He smiles, finding an empty one. The wheels start to turn in your head.

“No! I’m not getting in there!” Your panic increases. Ed shushes you.

“This is our best chance. I promise I’ll let you out as soon as I can.”

“We won’t be together?” Your eyes start to burn. You try to keep back tears. You’re shaking.

“We won’t both fit in the same one. I’m gonna go in the one above you-“

“No no please I- I don’t wanna be by myself! Please don’t leave me!” You cut him off and beg him. Ed awkwardly rubs his thumbs across your shoulders where he places his hands again, still trying to ground you. It’s awkward, but it’s still somewhat calming.

“I’m not leaving you. I would never leave you. I’ll be right next to you the whole time. I promise. I need you to trust me.” You’re not sure if it’s because it’s life or death, or if it’s because it’s Ed, but you reluctantly let him help your shaking body into the mortuary cabinet. When it comes time to let go of his hand and close the cabinet, you don’t want to. Despite quickly running out of time, he knows he needs to be patient. He knows how hard this is for you. He’s always known you’re a bit claustrophobic. He had no idea one of your worst fears was being buried alive. Being stuck in a cold locker wasn’t too far from either of those things. He can hear footsteps far down the hall. The Maniax were never subtle. He kisses the hand he’s holding quickly before closing your locker and climbing into his own. You were surprised by the kiss, but you couldn’t think about that right now and what it could have meant. Your mind couldn’t keep up. He had to leave his own locker unlocked, unable to properly close it from the inside, but he locked yours to make it look more convincing.

When Ed heard you cry, he began to whisper, hoping he could be loud enough for you to hear, but quiet enough for the Maniax to not notice. “It’s okay, (Y/N). I’m still here.” It was enough to quiet your sobs. Tears silently streamed down your cheeks. Ed’s voice had a certain gentleness to it when he spoke to you. He was being especially gentle now. You had seen him angry, upset, anxious, energetic, but his calm voice was reserved for you. Even in this moment when he was admittedly not very calm, he was trying his best to mask his own fears to keep you safe.

You always reserved parts of yourself for each other; parts of yourselves that the other person enabled you to be. You were never as bold as you wanted to be, but when people were rude to Ed you stuck up for him. He brought out a more confident version of you. For Ed, he knew you struggled with staying calm when you were stressed, upset, anxious or scared, even when you were happy. All of your emotions were so big and you rarely knew how to contain them. He tried to stay calm because he knew you saw him as a calming person in your life. He liked being your hero when everyone else only saw him as a weak, odd, nuisance. He also liked that he could read you and that you were honest with him. He trusted you and it helped keep the voice in his head at bay. He didn’t have to question himself with you. He didn’t have to take advice from the voice in his head.

You tried to keep your meltdown as quiet as possible when you heard footsteps approach. They were heavy, not ones you recognized. You knew it had to be one of the Maniax, probably the cannibal. You tried to make your breath as quiet as possible. After what you assume was a poor sweep of the room, the man leaves.

After what seems like hours of being trapped in a corpse you finally hear sirens and then chatter. You hear Ed climb out of the locker above you. He opens your locker and you let out an audible sob.

“I think they’ve gone.” He says, pulling out the drawer to let your body get some much needed air. You start gasping and sobbing, shaking on the drawer of the mortuary cabinet. Your body jolts up. You just want to get away from the locker.

“You’re okay! You’re okay!” Ed catches your body, as your start to fall from the drawer to the floor. You sit on the floor and cling to him, sobbing. At first awkward, he runs his hand along your back, trying to sooth you with the repetitive motion.

“I felt like I was dead- like- like I was gonna get buried alive-“ You gasp for air, sobbing between your words. Ed shushes you.

“We’re okay. They’re gone.” He promises.

You hear fast approaching footsteps. Your brain is moving too fast to decide if the footsteps are familiar or not. You just bury yourself further into Ed’s chest.

“Detective Gordon is here.” He informs you and you relax only slightly.

“Nygma, are they okay?” Jim asks.

“No mortal wounds, they’re just a bit shaken up.” He lets him know.

“You two should probably still get checked out. I need to finish scanning the building for everyone else. So far we’ve got 9 cops dead in the bullpen and… and the commissioner is dead.” He says. It’s almost like you hear Jim, but you don’t. Your mind can’t keep up with anything that’s happening.

After a while you find yourself sitting, waiting for Lee to check you out. Ed had been pulled away for a few minutes to do his job. He didn’t want to leave you, but you assured him you were fine. You didn’t feel fine, but you knew they needed him. As long as you could see him on the other side of the bullpen, you were reluctant, but okay with him stepping away. He left his jacket draped around your shoulders. It helped to be surround by his smell and warmth.

When it was time to go home, Ed guided you to his car. You hadn’t spoken much, but at least you’d finally stopped crying. The car ride was quiet. The only thing that filled the air was Ed’s occasional hum with the radio. Neither of you quite knew what to say. It was a bit ironic considering usually nobody could ever get you two to shut up. You didn’t speak up until he turned onto your street.

“I don’t want to go home.” You said quietly, feeling the panic rise again at the thought of being alone at home again.

“That’s understandable. Would you like to stay at my place?” He asks. You nod, silently. He flicks his turn signal and starts the drive to his place.

“Welcome to Château Nygma.” He smiles, turning on the light. You still have his jacket wrapped around your shoulders. Despite the terror you’ve been through today, his smile is refreshing. You don’t question how he can stay so seemingly sane in times like these, but you’re just glad somebody is. You need that. Maybe you should have questioned it, but you didn’t. He has a nice apartment. It’s not too big. Why would it be for a man who lived by himself? It’s just the right size with cool windows and a comfortable setup.

“Do you want something to eat? I’m a good cook.” He smiles. You don’t know how he can continue to smile, but you’re glad. It starts to make you feel safer. It’s nice to be in a locked apartment with just you and Ed. It’s nice to be in a quiet, secluded place, but not feel alone. It’s far better than sitting on your bed, scared of any serial killers that could be hiding underneath the frame and jumping at any people you hear in the stairwell of your apartment, with an open case file sitting next to you, worried the killers you’re reading about could be onto you any second. Today was a very close call. Too close.

“If you’re not sure, that’s okay too.” He continues, noticing you’re deep in thought.

“Oh…uh yeah… I’m not sure what I want… It’s like my body needs things, but I’m just a little bit too overwhelmed to figure it out.” You look down, shyly.

“Do you want to just sit? I can put on some music?” He questions referencing the record player with his hands.

“That sounds okay. I think I can do that.” You nod. He puts on some quiet music, not too loud to overstimulate you and you make your way to the couch. He brings you a glass of water.

“I can imagine it might be hard for you to have an appetite given your increased levels of adrenaline today, but you should at least drink this.” You take the water from him and begin to sip it. You didn’t realize how nice cold water could feel. You drink it quickly, before setting the glass down.

“Thank you.”

Ed sits down and you gravitate towards him.

“How do you do it?” You ask.

“How do I do what?” He looks for clarification.

“Your job. There’s so much death everywhere.”

“I don’t know. I just sort of do. Honestly I think it’s fascinating…” He pauses, looking away from you. “Sorry. That probably sounds weird.”

“It does, but that’s okay. I like the fact that you’re different and you’re honest. It’s comforting. You’re a better man than all of those crooked cops walking around beating up women and mobsters alike.”

“You think so?” He asks.

“Yeah, I do.” You smile. This time it’s a real smile. Ed smiles too. It’s nice to know after everything he’s done for you to make you comfortable, you can say something to make him feel better.

“I’m sorry all of this has been so awful for you.” He says.

“I know we’re doing good and it’s important to do good in a world of so much bad, but sometimes I just wish nobody had to do it. I can’t even fathom what would make somebody what kill another person. Maybe out of necessity, but it scares me that people actually enjoy it.”

“Yeah.” Ed shifts uncomfortably. You think he must agree with you and that’s why he’s unconformable. You don’t know that he killed Officer Doherty for abusing Kristen just over a month ago.

The two of you talk for quite some time until you end up falling asleep next to him on the couch. He doesn’t mind when you fall into his lap. He lets you sleep, smiling down at you. He didn’t dare move. He didn’t want to wake you. He was afraid of breathing too deeply and shifting too much underneath you. He eventually falls asleep sitting up with you still in his lap.

Everything is peaceful until you shoot up screaming, in a cold sweat. You’ve had another nightmare. This time is different. You’re disoriented. You don’t know where you are. You feel hands touching you.

“(Y/N), it’s me! It’s Ed! You had another nightmare.” You look at his face to see him distraught, unsure of what to do. Your tossing and turning had woken him up. He was awake only seconds before you.

Your eyes begin to well with tears. “I just want it to stop. When will all of this stop?” You cry.

“When will what stop?” He asks.

“Everything! I just want to stop feeling like this. I want to stop being afraid. I should be used to the job by now.”

“Maybe you just need more time to get used to it! I know we talked about time management earlier. I can help you with your schedule.” He offers.

“I don’t want to manage my time. I just want it to freeze. I just wish time would freeze so I could just breathe and catch up!”

Ed looks at you defeated. He doesn’t know what to say. He likes riddles because riddles always have answers. He doesn’t know what to do when there’s a problem with no solution.

“I’m sorry.” He settles with saying. “Would a hug help?” He’s just grasping at anything he’s seen people do when trying to comfort other people with problems and no solutions.

“Yes.” You say quietly, burying your head in his chest. Despite being the one to offer the hug, he’s a little awkward at first. He eventually settles in.

“Is this helping?” He asks.

“Yes.” You tell him. Of course, Ed being who he is, even now he’s still looking for a solution. He doesn’t realize he may be the solution, or at least someone to help make the problem smaller. “You always help.” You add.

“I’m sure most of our coworkers would disagree.” He laughs.

“I never thanked you for earlier today.” You say quietly.

“It was nothing.” He smiles.

“No, Ed. Keeping me safe in a life or death situation isn’t nothing.”

“I’m sure anyone would have done it.” He argues.

“No, they wouldn’t have.” You tell him.

“I’ll always protect you.” He pulls you closer, shifting awkwardly underneath you. “You know… my apartment is always open if you want to sleep with me- I- I mean sleep with me in attendance- I- I mean sleep with each other- I- I mean near each other- you know! In case you have nightmares!”

“I might just have to take you up on that. This is the first night I’ve felt okay enough to be able to maybe go back to sleep afterwards.” You smile, trying not to laugh. You don’t want him to think you’re making fun of him. Truthfully you think he’s sweet and funny.

“You should go back to sleep and since I didn’t get to make you dinner I’ll be making you the best breakfast of your life tomorrow.” He beams.

“You better.” You snuggle into him. Ed is too awkward to suggest you go lay in his bed tonight and you’re too tired to care. You spend the rest of the night on the couch together. You can save the bed for tomorrow night. You know when you wake up in the morning you’ll be coming back. It was the most sleep you’ve gotten in weeks.

Ed wakes up before you and sneaks off the couch to start breakfast. He truthfully was a very good cook. His own sensory issues with food made him very particular about how it’s prepared. You wake up to the smell of something good in the oven. Ed is nowhere to be seen, but you hear him in the bathroom. He’s talking. You knew he often talked to himself, but he sounded like he was talking to someone else. Maybe he was on the phone. You were sure you were hearing one half of a conversation.

“I told you we could trust them. They like me for me. They think I’m a good man.”

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artemismoorea03 · 9 months

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DPxDC Writing Prompt Idea

I have no idea if this has been done before but I just had this idea so if it has been done feel free to ignore this but I gotta share this.

So, I always see these prompts of different characters being related to different DC characters. For example I've seen some where people say that Tucker is related to Lucius Fox. Dash is related to Harley Quinn. Jack being related to Bruce Wayne. Danny related to Tim/Damian/Dick or any of the other Batfam but one I haven't seen before is one that I feel could be easily used.

Maddie Fenton is related to Jim Gordon.

Now, I've never seen this or even heard people talking about it and I can kind of understand why. Maddie is shown to have a sister but like - hear me out anyways.

Maddie has a cousin, she has met him a couple of times as a kid and only once as an adult when Danny was around 7. There wasn't any real reason for it, just a Family Reunion and an excuse to spend time as a family, something she often forgot to do when she was so determined to get the Ghost Portal open.

Her cousin is Jim and his daughter is a good ten years older than Danny. She had heard that Jim was quickly rising in rank in Gotham City and that his daughter - despite the occasional odd truancy issues - had her head on straight. Jazz also adored the older girl and followed her around the entire reunion, looking almost like Barbara's little sister.

Danny got closer to Jim than his daughter though, and started talking about things that he probably shouldn't have. After all, what 7 year old has a filter? What 7 year old knows not to mention the fact that sometimes their food attacks them or that Jazz is learning how to cook because sometimes mom and dad forget to feed them because their research is important. The more Danny talks the more concerned Jim gets, but he's also conflicted.

This is his cousin, the same cousin who the time Danny fell and scraped his knee peppered kisses on each and every one of his freckles on his face and danced with him until the pain stopped and then patched him up and danced with him again. This is family. He's sure that Danny is just... making things sound bigger than they are, as children do - at least he hopes that's the case.

But on the off chance that there is something going on he slips Jazz and Danny both his number and gives his cousin the same number in case anything came up.

As the years go on though Jim starts to see more red flags. Small things at first - Jazz asking how to change the batteries in a fire alarm. Danny calling to ask if pot-lids could be stuck in the microwave to cover rice. Basic questions that could be asked to a parent or a parent should be doing for their kids anyways. But whenever Jim asked about this the answer was the same.

"Mom and Dad are busy in the lab."

This continued for years until a call from Jazz one night seven years after he'd met them for the first time. She was crying and sobbing, her voice shaking as she tries to get the words out.

"Danny had an accident. Mom and dad aren't home, what do I do?"

Jim was 900 miles away, he had no way to get to them. No way to get him to them. So he did what he could and instructed her to hang up with him and call for an ambulance. Jazz was scared though, she didn't trust the doctors but thankfully Danny's voice could be heard.

The relief Jazz had when her brother woke up was enough to make Jim feel like he was going to throw up. The call ended shortly after that but he made sure to call a few days later and ask his cousin how Danny was doing.

"Danny? He's just fine!"

"That's good. He healed from the accident then?"

"What accident- oh, Jack no, that goes to the right - your other right. Jim, sorry I have to go. We can talk about this later, okay?"

Jim was appalled. Jazz had called him in tears, hyperventilating and Danny had been unconscious - Jazz though he was dead - and their parents didn't have any idea?

It was a little over a year later that he got another call. Just as frantic, just as scared, but much worse.

Danny was all but screaming in the back ground, voices were telling him to holds still and that they knew it hurt but he was bleeding out and he needed to hold still. Terrified, hurt, betrayed voices. Jazz again explained the situation, this time eerily calm.

"I can't go into details over the phone but we're coming to Gotham City to seek Asylum against a law that will get Danny killed. We need you to keep Batman off of our tails until Danny is healed. We'll handle everything from there."

"Healed? Healed from what?" Why did these calls always happen during work. "Jazz, what is happening? You have to give me something if I'm going to protect you guys."

"... My parents cut Danny open, Jim. They cut him open and he's hurt bad. Myself, Danny, and two of our friends are on our way to you now." Jim felt like his jaw hit the floor then snapped back up so hard it gave him whiplash as he sank back in his chair. "Before you ask; no. Hospitals aren't an option. Danny isn't a meta and they weren't violating any laws when they cut him open. Which is why we need you to keep Batman away from us for as long as possible. What... what Danny is shouldn't exist and if anybody gets a hold of him they'll cut him back open, turn him into a super weapon, or destroy him."

"Then why call me. I'm a police commissioner. What makes you sure you can trust me?"

"I'm not. Neither are the others with us but the only thing Danny has said since we saved him is 'Go to Jim'. We're following his lead on this. So... I'm trusting Danny, who has his full trust in you, Jim. Don't let him down."

#dp x dc prompt #not part of any series #random prompt ideas #Danny Phantom Prompt #Batman Crossover Prompt #my prompts #dc x dp prompt

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bluejaysandblackbats · 1 month

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Eyes and Ears

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam

Summary: An AU where Barbara finds Jason instead of Bruce.

Chapters: 1/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Barbara Gordon, Jim Gordon, Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Sheila Haywood, Original Character(s)

Relationship(s): Jason Todd/Original Character(s), Past Barbara Gordon/Dick Grayson

Additional Tags: Canon Divergent AU, Older SIbling Barbara Gordon, Jason Todd-centric, Barbara Gordon is Oracle, Jason Todd is NOT Robin, Jason Todd Has Issues, Jason Todd Has a Crush, Adopted Siblings

Chapter One: Arrested

They locked eyes as Barbara rose from her perch, and in the dim alley lighting, Jason cursed under his breath and said, "Man am I in trouble..." He sank down to the ground and covered his face.

Barbara sighed and came down to meet him, and she sat down by his side. "You're gonna turn me in, huh?" he asked, still hiding his face.

She didn't say anything at first. "Where are your parents? Maybe I can just take you home after you return the tires you took," she offered. Jason didn't answer her. "Or I could just turn you in."

"My parents are dead," Jason mumbled, "Do you sit and talk to every crook you meet or am I just special?"

"Now, if I tell you you're special, it's gonna make me seem like a jerk," Barbara joked, "But if you don't have any parents to go home to... I kind of have to take you in."

"Can't you just save me the trouble of running away from a foster home and let me off with a warning?" Jason asked. Barbara sucked her teeth and knocked the back of her head against the Batmobile as she tried to think of something to do. "What part of Gotham are you from?"

"Why?" she asked.

"You don't sound like you're from here," Jason whispered, "Are you gonna turn me in?" She shrugged. "You are gonna tell your dad, though?"

"My dad?" Barbara asked. "Oh! He's not my—."

"Is he your boyfriend then?" Jason asked. Barbara screwed her face up and shook her head.

"Please stop talking and let me think for a second... Also, no, he isn't my boyfriend. Let's go get that tire back, and then I'll make my decision. Okay?" Barbara suggested, and she helped him up.

Jason led her back to his apartment, where he kept the tire. They both climbed up the fire escape, and Barbara took a look around at the rundown apartment. Jason's mattress sat in the corner of the living room by the door. He rolled the tire back towards the fire escape window, only stopping when Barbara let out a sigh. "What? I'm gonna put it back the same way I left it, I swear," Jason reassured her.

"No, it's not that... Do you wanna get something to eat after this?" Barbara asked. Jason turned and cocked his head at her. "What?"

"You don't have any Batgirl stuff to do? You and Batman don't go out to dinner—?"

"Again, we're not dating... Also, no. I'm on my own time. If it's too embarrassing to eat dinner with me as Batgirl, I could hang back, and we could eat on one—."

"No, I'm just saying that if I was you, I would do anything to not have dinner with me," Jason interrupted. Barbara chewed her bottom lip.

"Come on, kid. Let's go put the tire back and get something to eat before all the good food places close up for the night," she nudged him before making her way out the window and helping him get the tire out onto the fire escape. They went back to the batmobile, and Jason put the tire back. "Good, now we can—."

"I gotta tighten this one before we go. I loosened the nuts on this one," Jason interrupted as he crouched down with the tire iron and tightened it back up. "Now, I'm done." Barbara smiled at him, and she led him back to where her bike was. "So, if Batman isn't your dad... Does your dad know you ride motorcycles in a bat costume all night?" She messed up his hair.

"No, and you won't tell him," she laughed as she passed him a helmet. Barbara climbed on her bike, and Jason put on the helmet she gave him and climbed on after her. She put her helmet on and turned to him. Jason looked around for something to hold onto, and she chuckled and shook her head. "You're gonna have to hold onto me." Jason nodded and wrapped his arms around her waist. She started her bike up and drove off.

Jason tightened his grip and held on that way until they stopped at a food truck. Barbara told him to order anything he wanted once they got off. Jason took his helmet off to reveal a complete look of bewilderment, and Barbara chuckled. "You'll get used to it," Barbara reassured him.

"You say that like you're gonna be picking me up again after tonight," Jason chuckled uncomfortably. They ordered their food and took a number. "So, are you gonna turn me in?" Barbara nodded.

"Yeah, I decided. You're a hardened criminal... No, I'm not gonna turn you in. I'm gonna take you somewhere, though, because you can't go back there. What's your name, by the way, I forgot to ask?" Barbara whispered as she leaned against the wall. Jason stood next to her.

"My name's Jason," he introduced himself to her, "And I'm kind of glad I didn't go with my first plan of action..."

"What was that?" she asked.

"Hitting you with a tire iron and calling you Carrot Top," Jason raised his shoulders out of embarrassment, and he was a little startled when she laughed at him.

"Carrot Top? Oh yeah, that was a horrible plan. I would've been pissed," she chuckled, "So glad you didn't do that... Also, it's nice to meet you, Jason."

They got their food and ate on the curb together. "Where are you gonna take me?" Jason asked.

Jason spilled a little barbecue sauce on his hoodie. Barbara nudged him. "Want a bite?" Jason asked.

"N—. Why not?" Barbara took a bite of his burger and nodded. "Mm, I was gonna tell you you've got a little something on your jacket."

Jason shrugged and went back to eating. "No big deal... But you never answered my question."

"I know, but I just think it'll be easier to show you than it would be to tell you," Barbara explained, "You trust me?"

Jason looked up at her and nodded. "Yeah," Jason smiled a little half-smile, "Sure." After they finished eating, Barbara took a napkin and wiped her hands, and gave Jason one.

"Wanna ride around for a little bit? Or are you tired?" Barbara asked.

"I'm never tired," Jason replied as he put the helmet back on, and Barbara climbed on her bike. He held on tight while they rode around in circles for a few hours, and she decided it was time to take him back. She parked in an alley and climbed up the fire escape.

"Wait out here, just one second, okay?" she whispered and motioned for him to stay quiet. Jason nodded and stood against the wall as he watched her close the curtains. Barbara came down a few minutes later in civvies and took his hand. "Now, you're not gonna tell my dad anything. If he asks, I met you at my job at the library. Okay?" Barbara asked.

Jason nodded wordlessly, and she moved to lead him into her building, but he didn't move. "What's wrong?" Barbara asked, turning to look at him.

"You look like my mom," Jason mumbled. He swallowed hard, and he wouldn't make any further eye contact with her. The look of her freckles and the softness in her eyes made his chest hurt. Barbara didn't notice. She just wanted to get him inside before she lost the courage to speak with her dad.

"Shush, okay. Now come on," Barbara whispered as she moved again, and he didn't budge. Barbara looked back at him, and she softened up. Tears streamed down Jason's face, and he turned his head away from her. "Come here." Her voice was soft and sincere.

Jason embraced her, and for the first time since his mother died, he wept. Barbara was taken aback by the sudden shift in his emotions, but she hugged him back. "Wanna talk about it?" she asked.

Jason shook his head. Barbara nodded and held onto him until he stopped crying, and he let her take him into her apartment building. They went up the elevator, and as soon as Barbara got the door unlocked, she called for Commissioner Gordon. "Hey, Dad? I brought a friend with me, hope you don't mind. We already ate," Barbara explained, and Commissioner Gordon came out of the kitchen with a bowl of macaroni and cheese.

"Your friend doesn't look old enough to be out this late... Where's his—?" Barbara shook her head. "Oh. Sure you're not still hungry, err... Um..."

"Jason, I met him at the library. I was kind of wondering if maybe he could crash here for a while," Barbara suggested, "Like a long while?"

"Help yourself to whatever's in the kitchen, son... Babs, can I talk to you in private?" Jim asked. She nodded and followed him to his room.

Jason looked around at their family pictures and their furniture. He sniffed and kicked off his shoes and set them aside before going into the kitchen and washing his hands. Jason could hear them arguing, but it didn't sound bad, so Jason made himself a plate of food and sat on the floor at their coffee table. He was about to get up and make himself another helping when Jim and Barbara came back out. "Jason, how old are you?" Jim asked.

"Almost thirteen," Jason answered.

"Why do you look familiar?" Jim asked.

"You might've taken my dad in back when he was around... She didn't tell me you—." Barbara shot him a look. "Were such a good cook..."

"Thanks, and you can stay here. We'll figure things out as we go along, I guess. Also, you can finish eating... I'm gonna go see if I could find something for you to wear," Jim replied. Jason nodded and went back to the kitchen, and Barbara followed him.

As soon as Jim was out of earshot, Jason shot her a look. "Your dad is a cop. The commissioner at that. That's like the king of cops. Are you crazy?" Jason whispered.

"Well—."

"Jesus Christ," Jason turned away to make his plate, "You don't think you could've warned me a little?"

"I knew you wouldn't have gone for it. Besides, it's either this or foster care, kid. I don't know what else to tell you. This way, I can keep an eye on you," Barbara whispered.

Jason knocked her as he passed and sat down on the floor at the coffee table. "Jason—."

"I'm only gonna stay because I have a feeling you're not gonna get off my back... But I want you to know I'm pissed," Jason muttered as he ate. Barbara sat next to him and turned the tv on.

"My dad's fine, trust me... And you'll like it here. We'll fix up your room and—."

"You want me to stay here. How come?" Jason asked. "And you don't have to sell me on staying here. Dinner already did." Barbara smiled and embraced him. Jason went red in the face and stumbled over his words. "Well... Gosh, I guess that answers my question." Jason went back to eating, and Jim came out of his room.

"I'll be right back. I'm going to the store," Jim announced, "Don't let her give you a hard time, Jason."

After Jim left, Jason looked at her. "What?" Barbara asked.

"Your dad's a cop. Why didn't you just become a cop?" Jason asked. Barbara sighed.

"Not for lack of trying, kid. He would rather die than see me put myself in harm's way," Barbara whispered, "Which is why you can't tell him anything about what I do."

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