#zsasz: I know you're all holding each others two hands

[anindecisivespirit]

And they all lived happily ever after.

[howl-fantasies]

Hi!!

Okey so... After reading that story ab Oswald being kinda nice to reader I realised I needed more >.< and thought how funny it would be if Victor walked into a room to see Ozzy and Reader bonding, and Zsasz is like (:l ugh unexpected(?

Idk e.e Would love to see what your beautiful mind can do with this uwu *tips fedora*

A/N - Hahaha! I really like the idea of the two bonding and basically everyone thinking it absolutely weird and creepy 😂

Here you go dear, I hope you'll like it and not fret too much with those two being friendly with each other 🥰

Warning: English mistakes, it's not my first language but I'm working on it. And that's it I think... Maybe a little bit of blood at the beginning, it's Gotham after all...

--

The noise of the bullet hitting the last skull just echoed in Oswald's meeting room, inside of his manoir. At his feet, was now laying the fifth corpse of the morning, their blood slowly staining one of his expensives carpets.

Not like he minded at this very moment. The new king of Gotham was more focused on the fact that five unknown men managed to crack his security system and successfully passed in front of his goons, who were supposed to guard his HQ, while he was outside with Y/N and Victor to put some iron sense into the thick heads of some stupid thugs operating without Penguin's license. While Victor stayed in town to kill the last dissidents, Cobblepot and Y/N came back to his mansion.

"Unbelievable." He scoffed, pushing with one of his shiny shoes the shoulder of the corpse to turn it around. "How did those imbeciles missed five freaking men barging in their boss' house?!" He now yelled, his face turning red as he shook with anger.

He saw the tall woman accompanying him slowly crouch to take a closer look at the dead man. She was tilting her head slowly from left to right like she always used to do when she was in deep thoughts, reminding Cobblepot of a hawk.

"Well?" He screeched.

The brunette ignored him, making his nostrils flare. But he knew better than yelling like a mad man when he saw one of her hands grabbing the corpse's left arm and pulling his shirt to expose his shoulder to reveal a tattoo.

"What is it?" He muttered as he leaned a bit to see the thing better.

Y/N let the arm fall on the floor in a loud "thud" and turned her head a bit to be able to see Oswald better. "I know you're more into birds, but I thought you'd be able to recognize a snake, Oswald dear", she mocked a bit with a huge grin, only earning a 'tsk' and an eyes roll.

"You perfectly know what I meant you tart. Have you ever seen this?" He grumbled.

She lifted up swiftly and lazily stretched. "Hmhm I did." She started to answer, now brushing some invisible dust on her expensive black jacket. "This ugly thing is the logo of one of Carmine's ex-rival gang, the Ripoli family, if my memories are correct".

The news made Oswald frown hard. Of course the rivals of Falcone would now target him to try to win what they weren't able to claim while the old Italian man was still on the throne.

He will have to plan a meeting with them first for Victor and Y/N to identify clearly the heads of the organization, then order a proper execution.

No one tries to kill him like a coward and stay alive long enough to try it a second time. His thinking had to stop when a heavy sigh and a horrible curse reached his ears.

"I swear I'm gonna bring them back from death to choke them with a fucking plastic bag!" The assassin swore, holding in front of her the right side of her jacket and staring at a fresh hole on the higher border of the pocket.

"That moronic dude didn't just have to be a shitty shooter, he also had to rip it off with his fucking knife! It was a gift from Carmine for God fucking sake!" She spat as she kicked said man's head with her hig heels boot.

Oswald watched the scene in deep fascination. If there was something he could understand perfectly, it was her rage. Clothes were something sacred in his opinion as well as his family's, as his father once told him.

Even if he cringed at the colorful insults the woman in front of him was shouting, he had to empathize. The jacket was a beautiful piece, made in high quality silk and, even more important, custom made.

He let a heavy sigh out of his mouth and limped until he went just next to her, pushing her hands away to have a better look at the carnage. "Not like there is something to do with it anymore, it's ruined Oswald. Can you let me go now and stop your pawing?" She sneered.

Her jest was immediately met by a slap on her left arm, supposed to keep her on her spot. "Stop moving idiot, I think I have something which can fix it in my studio." He said calmly, before he let the jacket go and start to walk outside of the room to the place he mentioned, indicating her to follow him with a move of his hand.

Y/N had to raise a doubting brow at this but decided to give it a shot. After all, if there was something she was absolutely trusting Cobblepot with, it was fashion and sewing.

Once inside of the room, she first heard him fumble from the side of the room, just next to the platform and the huge mirror. "I know I have a similar silk somewhere that I kept after making Ed's dark green suit." He informed, still sorting out all the fabrics he had.

"You were the one who made it? Damn! So that's what the two of you were doing in that room." She sounded disappointed and her innuendo won a glare from Oswald who momentarily stopped what he was doing, too stunned by her audacity.

"What is that supposed to mean, Y/N?" He asked slowly, in a guarded tone, just to see if she would poke him more viciously. She didn't, though, on the contrary. The woman assassin raised her hands in an attempt to ease his starting anger.

"I didn't want to sound mean or mocking. I truly was rooting for you guys. And I'm genuinely sad your bromance didn't end well." She said. "But nevermind. You made one hell of a piece with his costume! You're truly talented I have to say" She cheered as she put her thumbs up in front of her for him to see.

Again, he was so taken aback that he brutally stopped his fumbling to stare at her like a second head had grown just next to her own. She even wore a gentle smile he never had the chance to see before.

Not her stupid half or toothy grins, no. A real smile. She was indeed a beautiful woman, he had to recognize. And couldn't stop the warmth he now felt on his cheeks and the back of his neck.

Cobblepot cleared his throat and turned back in front of his fabrics, finally seeing the one he was looking for. "Ah! Here it is. What do you think?" He asked as he extended it in front of him.

She took a few steps to be able to touch it and put her arm against it to see if the green wouldn't be too light. "I'm no specialist here dear, but I think it'll do. I really like the color." She nodded slowly, her eyes moving up to catch his. "What do you think though?"

The little man looked at the juxtaposition of the colors, moving the fabric on different angles to see how it would look under the sun or the lights. "Go on the platform for a second" He asked.

She indulged him, letting Oswald manipulate her arms and the side of the jacket, trying different way to incorporate the dark green silk. "I can't only put it here or it will look strange." He mumbled and she hummed to agree.

"Since it's just situated on the border of the pocket, I can remove both of them and replace it with the new fabric. I would recommend to do the same with the collar. Small touches like these will make it beautifully and people will see it as an intentional artistic choice. Plus green looks good on you I have to say", He detailed.

The look of total wonder in her dark eyes made him go red all over again. "What now?!" He screeched awkwardly. She blinked once before answering. "Dude, why are you at the head of a gang, you'd totally rock as a stylist." She said, again in genuine gentleness.

Oswald shrugged and cleared his throat to try to muffle his swelling pride. "Well I'm also very talented at plotting. And, as another talented plotter, you know it, Y/N." He said.

She pointed him with her index finger and nod solemnly "Damn right you are dear. You're one of the most clever plotter I ever seen, I recognize it".

He felt his smile grow without even thinking about doing the action. This moment was truly priceless he thought. Her statement as well as the respect he saw in her eyes was a greet achievement. Not everyone can boast about being recognized as good at something by the woman, and win her admiration? Goodness even less people entered in this category.

"Uuuuuh... Unexpected?!" A flat voice he knew too well resonated from the door.

Standing with a gun in each hand, Victor was currently looking at them like someone put something in his drink making him see pink elephants everywhere.

Oswald and Y/N took a few steps back to be able to face him properly. "Knocking Victor! We discussed this!" Cobblepot shouted as he was folding the piece of fabric he previously manipulated. "Anyway", he continued. "You're here, finally. Five men broke inside of the house, Y/N took care of them. She thinks they are from the Ripoli's family".

The hitman nodded a few times, his eyes still on them and how Oswald helped his wife out of one of her favorite jacket, talking about some measurements and other bullshit he wasn't sure he wanted to know. However, what he wanted to know, aside from the bodies in the house when he arrived a moment ago - which Oswald explained. Was the silence.

Well, not really the silence, but the - for once- calm voices of Oswald and Y/N having what looked like a quiet and polite conversation. What in hell was that?! Unbelievable. Truly.

"Something's wrong with Carmine's gift? ." Asked Zsasz, while putting back his guns in his holsters, his usually empty eyes still staring at the strange duet.

"Well it's not really what I wanted you to remember about my previous little briefing, Victor", grumbled Oswald. He was now putting some dark green string in a needle. "One of the Italians currently drenching my floor damaged this beautiful piece. It would be criminal to throw it away. That's why I'll fix it." Said Oswald, like he was talking to a five years old.

"Uh-uh", Said Victor, still deeply disturbed by the whole situation.

Just behind Oswald, Y/N showed the other assassin one of her bests grins. "What with the face, Dearest? Oswald and me discovered we had at least something in common. Aren't you happy for us?" She taunted.

The bald man frowned a bit. "Not sure", he muttered between gritted teeth, making her snort and his boss let out an irritated 'tch'. "As your boss, and a fashion enthusiast, it's my duty to provide help when it's within my capacities" Said Oswald like it was an evidence as he started his taylor's work.

"If you say so, boss", answered Victor, his eyes fixed on the complex work he was witnessing. The curves of his wife blocked his view though, and he caught himself checking out if she had any injury. Call it a reflex at this point. She was doing the same, he noted.

When she reached him, she was still wearing her taunting smile, which was grewing bigger as Cobblepot was making a few comments for himself about this or that point to put here. "We got a bit carried away I have to say", she chuckled and shrugged, having to snap her fingers a few times in front of his face to grab his attention back.

"Carried away? Sweetness you were being civil, with Penguin. Even your most wicked mind games never brought me so close to a brainfuck." He whispered.

Another chuckle answered him. "Maybe next time I'll tie you to a chair and make you watch Oswald and me having a tea party and bonding with each other even more." She jested.

"Please don't. Gives me the creeps." He breathed. Frankly. Y/N and Oswald insulting each other was like Gotham and corruption: indissociable. A constant. Any thug in town knew it even before knowing what the two look like. Now them chit-chatting and bonding was concerning. As if the fragile balance of order was suddenly breaking, giving its place to chaos.

"Dearest?" He heard her called.

"Victor?" Also called Oswald.

He blinked, getting out of his spiraling mind. Both of them were now standing in front of him, looking at him like he was going to faint. He wasn't far.

The hitman took a deep inspiration under their worried eyes. "Please stop it" He asked.

"Uh?" They stupidly asked in sync. That was creepy.

"Maybe he needs to sit, Oswald" Y/N suggested, putting her right hand on Zsasz's shoulder and squeezing it a bit.

"Good idea, Y/N, help me taking him to the chair would you?" Penguin answered, putting his other hand on his other shoulder and guiding him near the seat.

"Seriously guys, quit it", muttered the hitman, letting the duet helping him to sit.

"I'm going to bring some water", said his wife.

"Take it at temperature, I'm afraid a cold bottle would aggravate his state of shock", said Oswald.

"I agree", she nodded while gently taping Victor's jaw.

"STOP BEING FRIENDLY GODDAMMIT!" Zsasz finally yelled, making the two jolt in surprise. "It's not natural" added the bald man while brushing his hands against his face, missing the shared glace between Oswald and Y/N and their synchronized shrug.

Their little bonding session and newfound friendship were only temporary, it was Gotham after all. Both knew it.

A/N - I hope you liked it! 🥰

[howl-fantasies]

Good day! I dont know if your request are open but if they are,

Can I request a story where Ed and Victor constantly butt heads with each other for y/n's attention/affection while y/n in the background is just filming the whole thing with Oswald in her lap? I adore Riddler x y/n and Victor x y/n in your stories, but I wanna give Oswald some love too[:

Hello dear, thank you for your request! Of course you can!

Here it is. It takes place just after the Skyfall drabble and @flaysthings alternative end. Here are both if you want to read it:

SKYFALL

SKYFALL ALTERNATIVE END 1 by @flaysthings

Warning: profanities, Gotham universe: so twisted relationships, slight NSFW themes, English isn't my first language, sorry about it I'm working on it.

Word Count: 2.029

UNDIVIDED ATTENTION

"RED!" Screamed both voices at the same time, just before a deafening silence took its place in Cobblepot's living room.

"Correct." A feminine bored voice sighed from one on the couch. A camera hanging nonchalantly in her right hand. "But it wasn't too difficult to figure it out, I mean, I always wear something red... You just have to look at me or sleep with me to know it..."

"Now dear, don't sound so defeated, and please, don't bring your sexual life in this mess. I just wanted to make sure both idiots knew the most basic things about you before hardening our little game," Oswald's own bored voice said.

Currently perched on the woman's lap like he would on his throne, the king of Gotham threw the little card abhorring purple and black questions marks he was holding nonchalantly on the floor.

"Care to explain, again, why we are doing this stupid game while I could be outside beheading some dude who wronged you? And why do I have to film it all? " She asked, nodding politely when Cobblepot presented a cup of tea in front of her mouth.

A sign of his head encouraged her to let him help her drink the warm liquid. "Don't worry, it's not too hot, I made sure of it." He added, earning dirty glares from the two other men in the room. "To answer your question," continued Oswald when he was satisfied about the amount of tea she drunk.

"First, you're not ready to go on a french killing spree my dear. You were shot badly two days ago and still need to recover. A beheading would open your stitches again.

"Second, because we have to stop this stupid competition between your dear husband and... your...uh... other informal one? The camera is for other purposes, mainly for my own entertainment, later." His statement made her raise a brow. "Excuse me?"

"Don't try to complicate things, Oswald!" Spat Riddler between gritted teeth from his own couch. "I was the one who found Y/N bleeding in a shady alley. I was the one who started to stop the bleeding and make sure she wasn't freezing to death.

"So, logically speaking I had to be the one who transport her to Leslie's clinic." The man in green ranted while making frantic movements with both hands and arms.

"Logically speaking, it would have to be ME, her fucking HUSBAND, who should have held her, transported her and monitored her state during the operation. Not you, fucking nerd." Victor hissed as his hands were clenching the armchairs of his seat so hard the wood whined.

"Ah!" Ed scoffed. "Because you're a freaking surgeon now? So well versed into human anatomy you would have helped Lee when she asked someone to literally plunged both hands inside of Y/N ribs cage?!"

That was it. Victor's right hand rushed under his arm to grab his gun in his holster as he jumped out of his couch, Ed imitating him but seizing his brand new cane, ready to smash the electric part of it on the other man's face.

"Want me to show you the whole extent of my human anatomy knowledge, Nygma?" Threatened Zsasz with a numb voice. The kind of voice - with him - meaning you were now walking on thin ice. As thin as rice paper.

A kind of voice, which made Y/N zoom as much as she could to be able to capture the wrinkles just between the hitman's eyebrows. Now she started to have some twisted kind of fun.

Ed felt a cold drop of sweat licking his neck and back. He never liked Zsasz. Never. His mere presence was enough to make him cringe. But he wouldn't change what happened two days ago.

Y/N was barely alive and he was, with Leslie, her best chance to stay alive. He wouldn't lose her to contempt Victor's bruised ego. Out of the question. And he would never let go of a chance to be close to Gotham's no.2 assassin. Sorry not sorry.

"Gentlemen!" Screeched Oswald who hadn't moved from his cozy spot. "Let's not repeat the shooting contest, which took place in Lee's clinic. I'm not going to threaten you with a scalpel, but I swear to impale both of you on a freaking umbrella should you not stop THIS INSTANT!"

"You still owe me an explanation concerning this shooting by the way, " added Y/N's tired voice from under Cobblepot, who immediately turn around to scrutinize her.

"Nothing much to tell dear, just continue to film. Victor shot Ed's privates parts. Ed dodged and also tried to shoot his jewels and missed. End of the story. You're tired. Don't concern yourself with their stupid shenanigans." He cooed, just before turning on his spot again to glare at the two other men still facing each other with their gun and cane out.

"Stop it! Both of you! Y/N isn't feeling well enough to kick some sense into your thick heads." Yelled Cobblepot. Nygma and Zsasz didn't move for a good minute. Still killing each other visually. Slowly, both rose their weapon and finally put it back into their respective place.

"Good." Spat Oswald. "Now sit back. Let's resume our game." The little man clapped his hands once and leaned a bit in order to reach the deck of cards he had to put on the coffee table in front of him when Ed and Victor lost their calm.

Once again, Oswald shuffled the cards before clearing his throat. "Where were we? Ahem. Ah! Yes. I like this one. You're trap with Y/N in a burning building. All issues are condemned. You're doomed. But! She isn't panicking. Why?" He asked.

Zsasz and Ed sighed heavily.

"Cause she has a rocket launcher."

"Cause she was the one responsible for the arson and knows another way out."

Silence again. And the sound of squeaking armchairs from both seats occupied by Edward and Victor. "Well?" Asked Oswald, turning a bit to be able to catch Y/N's eyes.

The woman groaned loudly and let her back fall brutally against the seat back. "Oof! Fucking hell!" She cursed when white hot pain fused into her whole body. "Language!" Chastised Oswald automatically as he took the camera from her hands and put it delicately on the furniture in front of them.

He leaned back, and let her took a shaking breath to ease her pain. "So? Who's correct?" He pressed again.

Another Groan from her. "Fucking both." She said. "Victor is right, I would have a rocket launcher. And because of it, Ed is right too, I would know another way to get out.

" As he's also correct in his reasoning: if a building is burning to the ground and Firefly isn't in the middle of the flames, then the culprit would be me."

Now she was facepalming hard. "Look, it's not going anywhere. Plus it's embarrassing. We aren't organizing a huge lottery, and I'm not its fucking first price!"

"Absolutely. You're my wife. End of the story." Added Victor as he was throwing the cushion of his seat to Ed's face. Nygma yelled in outrage and smashed his left palm on the armrest.

"A wife you coaxed into the wedding! Screw you Zsasz! I am still working on finding a lawyer who would agree to send you divorce papers and I won't stop until finding them!" He shouted, also throwing his own cushion at the other man face, earning a petty middle finger from his opponent.

"Good luck with that one, nerd." The bald man said sadistically with one of his shit-eating grins.

As Oswald was opening his mouth to screech again a shot resonated in the living room, making Ed scream and jump on his seat and another made Victor pulls his legs up and cross them under him.

"What the hell Y/N?!" Yelled Edward as he was looking at the bullet hole a few millimeters from his left foot. "I saved your life!" He continued.

The woman nodded in an aggravated way. "Yeah, that's why I missed. Same for you, dearest." She added in a dangerous neutral tone. "Yeah, I figured it out myself. Since I know my wife well."

Another shot answered him, piercing the cushion just next to his ear. "Love you too", he mockingly purred earning the middle finger from her.

"I said no guns for you until you fully recovered Y/N!" Hissed Oswald as he grabbed the barrel of her weapon and pulled it out of her grasp. It joined the camera on the coffee table. "Where did you even hide it?! I asked Olga to search you before our meeting!"

The woman looked at him like a second head just popped next to his current one. "Did you think I was just happy to see you dear?" She taunted with a wolfish grin which made a blush explodes on Oswald's cheeks and neck. "It's not funny Y/N! Stop being lewd!" He yelled in a too high-pitched voice.

Her face lost her mischievous glee soon, though. Becoming all bored again. "Look. Everybody in this room knows about my favorite color, that my aka when I need one to work for someone is Persephone, and that I have a fucking tattoo on the back of my upper thigh, just under my fucking buttock.

"You all saw it two days ago. Gods, even Olga saw it and called me a whore in her natal babbling for it. So stop the questions Oswald. We're just wasting time and energy." She sighed while playing with a wild string on her own armchair.

Cobblepot gritted his teeth loudly. She was right, he knew. But it didn't solve their current issue. And he had enough of Ed and Victor constant head butting to gain her undivided attention like two little kids. "So, what do you suggest then? Because it has to STOP!"

The only woman in the room shrugged. "Not my problem. I'm not their mom", She spat before leaning a bit to be able to see them, despite Oswald still perched on her thighs .

"You're fucking grown men, act like it guys. I don't know, kill each other or something. Again. Your rivalry isn't my fucking problem." She said.

"Victor is my husband. I have made my peace with it a long time ago, Ed. And it's convenient. And he's terrific it in bed." The hitwoman added making Ed cringed in disgust and Victor beam like the sun. But his smile was quickly ripped off his face when his dear wife continued.

"And Ed is one of my most precious frenemy in town. Always was and always will, Victor. I love his stupid wit. His riddles amuse me beyond measure, his awkwardness too. It's just too cute", She added.

Oswald felt two hands grab him under his arms and lift him up from his sitting position on her lap. His feet gently found the ground, and he turned to be able to see Y/N also on her feet, dusting her leather suit. Her little scolding had the merit to let Edward and Victor froze on the spot.

Their three gazes were now on her, scrutinizing her moves like birds of prey. They followed her when she walked across the immense room and when she brutally stopped in front of the open double doors. "I'll not divorce my husband. Ed. Good old bitch me is way too loyal for that." She muttered.

"But I'll gladly sleep with Ed or start any romance he might want, Victor, should you ever betray me again like you did with Sofia." She added with a devious smirk.

Chaos. That's what she created when the three men's voices started to shout in perfect sync. Absolute chaos, in where she only was able to hear her own name being called, as well as a "Don't touch my camera you brutes!"

She also had enough, though. And did what she was best known for: living the total crazy mess she actively created without a glance back but a way too large smile on her sadistic face. Like she just told Ed, she was a bitch. And didn't have any problem with acting like one.

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

[littleoddwriter]

Hello over there! Hope you're alright! Can I request another Zsaszmask story with their son Andrew? This time, Andrew kills someone in self-defence and he does not know what to do. Luckily for him, his parents are here for helping him. I am sure you will write something wonderful. Thanks in advance and have a nice day! (BTW, if you want to request me something, don't hesitate!)

Alive and Safe | Roman Sionis x Victor Zsasz | ZsaszMask

Hi there! As alright as can be, hope you are as well, thanks! <3 Now, this was a super interesting request, thank you so much for it! I really hope you enjoy what I've done with it. :) Have a wonderful day/night! (And thank you!) <3

summary; See above.

notes; Gun Violence; Blood; (Background) Murder; Self-Defence; Crying; Shock; Anxiety/Panic; Hurt/Comfort; Showering; Taking Care of Someone; Parental Feelings, Worries, etc.; Domestic. [Also, Andrew is 19 here. It'll be mentioned in the Fic, too, but I'm saying it here for imagination purposes.]

There was so much blood on him. Some of it was his, but most of it was from the guy, who was now lying lifeless on the floor. Andrew had shot him. He didn’t mean to kill him! He just wanted to incapacitate him so that he could get away and call the police. That was all he had wanted to do. But now he stood in the dark alleyway, above this corpse and he didn’t know what to do.

Should he still call the police? Would they arrest him, then? Would he end up going to prison for trying to save his own life?

With trembling hands, he pulled out his mobile phone from his pants pocket and speed dialled his dads’ number. They would know what to do.

“Andrew? Where the fuck are you? You were supposed to be home already!” one of his dads, Roman, yelled upon picking up.

Andy opened his mouth to tell him what was going on, but he didn’t know how to start. His throat was so tight; he couldn’t get a word out. Instead, he just breathed heavily into the phone as tears gathered in his eyes.

“Andy?”

“Dad-,” he choked out eventually, a sob tearing from his throat immediately after.

“Andy, what’s wrong? Baby, c’mon, tell me what’s going on,” his dad urged him, his voice softer and with a more concerned inflection now. “Victor, get the driver ready!” Andy heard him say distantly. “We’re coming to you, ‘kay? Just tell me where you are,” he spoke to him directly again.

Swallowing around the lump in his throat, Andrew tried to collect his thoughts and then whispered the alley’s name he was currently standing in. “Please come quick, dad. Please,” he snivelled.

Back at home, Roman rushed Victor downstairs and into his Rolls Royce. Quickly, he gave the driver the address and told him to hit the fucking gas, but park a street away from the actual alley Andy was in, lest they might alert someone to their presence.

“He sounded so fucking afraid, Vic. What do you think happened? Fuck! That’s why I don’t like letting him go out on his own!” Roman hissed, punching the seat beside him.

“I don’t know, but we’ll find out. We have to stay focused, though, Roman. Andy needs us,” Victor replied, looking back at him from the front passenger seat.

“I know that, ugh! How can you be so fucking calm?”

Zsasz just shrugged and Roman huffed, crossing his arms. Why couldn’t Victor show that he was out of his mind with concern, too? Why did he always have to be the emotional one? It was annoying and unfair.

Soon enough, they arrived at a street away from the alleyway their son was in, and they quickly armed themselves – both with guns and knives, concealed by their clothing. Silently, they walked up the alley; Victor in front of Roman, making sure it was safe. Then, they turned the corner and came to a sudden halt.

There Andrew stood, soiled in blood with wide, wet eyes, shaking and frozen to the spot, illuminated by the soft yellow light of the only streetlamp in the alley.

When their gaze tore from him and further down to the floor, they saw the corpse of a man. He looked homeless to Roman, and it wouldn’t surprise him at all if he was.

“Dads-,” Andy sobbed, sounding so small and terrified.

Roman’s heart sank. He hasn’t heard his son sound like that since he’d been a younger child, plagued by nightmares. But fuck, he still was a child, wasn’t he? After all, he was only nineteen-years old.

“Oh, baby. It’s okay,” Roman said and quickly walked over to his boy, cupping his cheeks in his gloved hands, “Are you hurt?”

“A little,” Andy admitted brokenly and Roman clenched his jaw.

What kind of fucking prick thought it to be a good idea to hurt his son?

Victor crouched down beside them and looked the body over. “You shot him?” he asked, looking up at his son, who choked out a soft ‘yes’ in answer.

“I didn’t mean to kill him! I swear, I didn’t! It just sort of happened, I don’t know how. He came onto me and threatened me with the gun and I defended myself. I only wanted to hurt him! But suddenly the gun went off and he was dead. Just like that!” Andy explained frantically, his breaths coming out in short bursts, as he was starting to hyperventilate.

“Ssshhh, sh, sh, sh. It’s alright. We’ve got you. No one is mad at you, ‘kay?” Roman tried to shush his son, gently stroking his thumbs over his puffy, wet cheeks.

“B-but when the police find out- They’ll put me away!”

“Oh, sweetie, don’t worry about that. You won’t go to jail. I’ve got the police on my payroll. Not only that, but I’ll call my men and they’ll clean up here. No one’s going to find him or know he’s been killed.”

“Are you sure?”

Roman couldn’t help but let out a short laugh, hearing Victor, who finally got up from that filthy floor, do the same. “Yes, I’m certain. Otherwise your papa and I would have been in prison a long time ago, ‘kay?”

Andrew nodded and Roman leaned in to press a short kiss to his son’s sweaty brow. Then, he let go of him to get on his phone and wake up some of his goons, so they could do their job.

While he was busy on the phone, Roman saw Victor hugging Andrew, rubbing his arms and back soothingly and kissing his hair. It made him smile. Zsasz was surprisingly good at being a father. Roman envied him for how easy it seemed to be for him.

When he got off the phone, he told the other two that they’d have to wait here for his men to arrive, before they could return home without a second thought. Andrew certainly didn’t like it and neither did Roman, but it was necessary, lest someone might have found the body and actually called the fucking cops, then. That just wouldn’t do.

Finally, a good twenty minutes later, his goons have arrived and he instructed them quickly. Then, he ushered Andy and Zsasz back to his car, so that they could leave for good. Thank fuck, it had all gone smoothly thus far.

“Victor will take a look at your wounds at home and then you’ll wash up,” Roman stated, holding his son’s hand in his own. He would have put his arm around him, but the blood on him, although dried by then, didn’t allow it for him.

“Yeah, alright. Thank you, dad. For everything,” Andy whispered. He’s finally stopped crying, then, but he was still trembling severely; although that wasn’t necessarily surprising.

As they eventually came through the door, Zsasz immediately walked Andy into the bathroom to take a look at his wounds. Roman followed them, observing the whole thing from a safe distance in the doorway. Apparently, Andrew has gotten away with some bruises on his torso, a cut on his left arm and a split open lip that Roman only registered now in the bright bathroom lights.

“Take a shower, Andy. I’ll come and nurse your wounds afterwards, alright? If you need anything, just tell us,” Zsasz finished his inspection and Andrew nodded, thanking him quietly.

Then, Roman and Victor left Andy alone, until he was either done with washing up, or needed them all of a sudden - whichever happened first.

Frankly, Sionis felt sick to his stomach. This was his son, his baby – wounded and in shock, because he had to involuntarily take someone’s life to save his own. It was wrong on so many levels and it left Roman heartbroken and seething with rage.

“Maybe we should have shown him this side of our business before, already,” Victor mused, putting his hands on Roman’s shoulder and massaging them as he did so often.

Roman scoffed, “Why? So he wouldn’t have been so shaken up, now?”

“I don’t know, yes. I just don’t wanna see him like this again, y’know? God knows how long this will stick with him.”

“I know what you mean… We’ll just have to support him throughout and then he’ll be better, soon,” Roman responded, deep in thought, “That’s what other parents would do, right?”

“Yeah, I think so. I guess we’ll also just have to listen to what he says he needs. I’m sure it’ll be okay.”

“Fuck, I hope so. Vic, I-,” Roman heaved a deep, shuddering sigh, “I was so scared we’d lose him. That some rival gang has gotten their hands on him or some fucking shit like that.”

“I know. I thought the same thing. But he’s okay. Shaken up and a little hurt, but he’s alive, at least.”

Zsasz stopped kneading Roman’s shoulders and instead wrapped his arms around him, nuzzling the back of his head. Roman relaxed into the embrace, closing his eyes for a moment, faintly hearing the water from the shower.

Later, after Andy has showered and gotten his wounds taken care of by Victor, he went to bed. Roman and Victor tucked him in, just like when he was still a boy and kissed his cheeks and forehead one after the other.

“Goodnight, baby,” Roman murmured, brushing his son’s hair back.

“Goodnight, dads. I love you,” Andy replied softly, looking up at the two of them with a small, quivering smile on his face.

“We love you, too. Now sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning, I promise,” Zsasz responded, then and walked over to the door with Roman in front of him.

Then, they switched the lights off and closed the bedroom door, walking into their own room afterwards and sitting down on the bed. As soon as they sat down, they leaned against each other and heaved sighs of relief.

Andrew was alive and safe. That was all that mattered.

[littleoddwriter]

Hello! I have three things to tell you: 1) You're the best and I'm happy to know you! 2) I wonder when did you start writing on Tumblr 3) I would like to request you a story with Zsaszmask and their son Andrew when they are not very happy to discover that their "little boy" hangs out with Harley. Humor and fluff would be nice! Thnks in advance and have a nice day!

Sacrifices | Roman Sionis x Victor Zsasz | ZsaszMask | KidFic

1) Thank you so much, I’m happy to know you as well! <3 2) Actually, I only started last year in early November! After having taken a break from writing altogether for 4 years, I got back into it with ZsaszMask fics and then thought to write Reader ones as well and post them here, and here we are now. :D

3) This is probably not very humorous, but I hope you like it anyway! Thanks so much for the request, it was quite the delight. :) <3

summary; see above.

notes; TW // Mention of/Implied Past Child Abuse; Misogyny (this is written in Roman’s POV, so- you know) and Ableist Language. Domestic Fluff; Kid Fic; Painting Nails; Group Hug; a tiny bit of angst, I guess? Also, this plays before BoP, so Harley is still with the Joker and Andy is 15 here instead of 17 like in the last fic!

Roman and Victor had been out attending business most of their late afternoon. It hasn’t taken as long as they had anticipated, though, as Sionis has reached a compromise and secured a deal with his business partner relatively soon.

Apparently, Andrew – their fifteen-year-old son – hadn’t expected them to be home so early, either.

When the two men had entered the loft, they could already hear this really obnoxious voice and accent. Harley fucking Quinn.

What the fuck was the Joker’s little princess doing here?

Roman glared at his partner, who just shrugged, frowning as well.

“Fix me a Martini. I’ll go take a look at what the fuck is going on here. ‘Kay?” Sionis said and headed towards his son’s room, not waiting for an answer from Zsasz.

Stopping at Andrew’s room’s doorway, Roman took in the atrocious scene that was happening right in front of him.

Harley was painting Andrew’s nails.

Harley motherfucking Quinn was painting his son’s fucking fingernails.

Clearing his throat, Roman drew their attention to him. It should have been on him the moment he’s stopped to stand there, but they were too caught up talking and laughing with each other. It disgusted him. This was his son! He wasn’t supposed to tattle with the woman he hated most (right after his own mother anyway).

When Andrew noticed him, he jumped a little, probably surprised to see him.

How long have these two been friends without Roman even knowing it?

“Dad- Hey, uh-,” Andrew started, chuckling nervously.

“Oh! Hiya, Romy! You’re home already? Or did we lose track of time, Andy Baby?” Harley chirped so fucking sickeningly, that stupid bitch.

“We came home early. That’s not important, though. What’s important is what the fuck you are doing here?” Roman asked, fuming already, and took some steps towards the other two.

“Painting our nails, silly! What else does it look like? And here, Andy’s nails are so pretty now!” The crazy bitch said, shoving his son’s hands into Roman’s face, making him look.

Begrudgingly, Sionis had to admit that the glittery baby-blue nail polish fit his son really well, but he wasn’t going to say it out loud. Not when she was listening, too.

“That’s not what I meant, Ms. Quinn,” Roman sneered, “I want to know what you are doing here, in my apartment, with my son. How long has this been going on, hm?”

“A couple of months,” Andrew finally piped up, “I like Harley! She is fun to hang out with, dad.”

“Awww, Andy Baby, you’re fun to spend time with, too! See, Romy, it’s all fine! What’s the buzz about, anyway?”

Clenching his jaw, Roman forced himself to take a deep breath, trying so hard not to explode then and there. He wasn’t scared of Harley, but her stupid “Clown Prince” – boyfriend – wasn’t someone he necessarily wanted to be on the bad side of.

“It’s nothing. Still, I’d prefer it if you could leave, now, Ms. Quinn. I’d like to spend some private family time with my son and partner, ‘kay?” Roman hoped she’d catch on and leave without any big theatrics; he really wasn’t going to able to hold onto the last shred of his patience for much longer.

Harley made a sad little sound, playing it up big time, but then she nodded, grinning so stupidly. “Fine, I’ll leave! I’ll see you soon then, Andy?”

“Uh, yeah, sure. Bye, Harley. And thanks for the nails,” Andrew said, hugging the crazy bitch, before she got up, patted Roman on the cheek and left, skipping to the door.

Roman was glad that he was going to wash his face anyway. Now he had all the more reason to scrub it thoroughly, though.

Cautiously, Andrew got up from his bed, which he’s sat on with Harley the entire time. “Dad?” he asked quietly.

Before Roman could reply, Victor finally came back with his Martini. He downed it in one go, desperate for the liquor to numb some of the pain he felt.

“So, what exactly was that Harley-Bitch doing here?” Zsasz asked, ever so gracefully.

Roman looked at Andrew expectantly, “Why don’t you tell your father why she was here, hm?”

He knew he was being an asshole; he should give it a rest and just pretend as though none of this happened, but he just couldn’t. He felt betrayed by his own son, and he was just so fucking pissed because of Harley’s mere presence anyway.

“Uh, well, we’re friends. And she came over to paint my nails while you were gone. I didn’t expect you back so early. I’m sorry,” Andy explained, fidgeting with his hands nervously.

At the sight of his son being so nervous – scared, Roman’s heart clenched painfully. He knew what that was like. Worse even. He didn’t want to be like his own father. He should do better. He wanted to do better.

“Well, you know how much we don’t like having her here, Andrew. You shouldn’t have let her come to the apartment in the first place,” Victor responded calmly.

Roman was a bit in awe of his partner and how well he was handling this – so much better than he was.

“I know, I’m really sorry. I wasn’t thinking, I guess. Can I stay friends with her, though? Please?”

Sionis sighed, setting his Martini glass down on his son’s bedside table. “Come here,” he murmured, stretching his arms out in invitation, all anger gone and exchanged for a strange kind of sadness he’s not felt since Andy was still just a boy.

Andrew took some cautious steps towards him and when he was right in front of him, Roman wrapped his arms around his boy, who reciprocated the embrace immediately, resting his head sideways on his father’s chest.

“You too, Victor,” Roman then said and Zsasz immediately joined in, embracing them both tightly.

“So you’re not mad at me anymore?” Andy asked, his voice a little muffled by the hug.

“No, baby. I’m-,” Roman sighed heavily, the next words not coming out of him very easily, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. My differences with Harley shouldn’t extend to you. If you want to be friends with her, so be it. But don’t meet with her here in the future, ‘kay?”

“Yeah, alright, that’s fair. Thanks, dad.” Momentarily, Andrew’s arms tightened around his waist, eliciting a genuine smile from Roman.

“Show your dad and me your nails, will you? I want to see them properly, now.”

They all let go of each other and Andrew lifted his hands, spread his fingers and let his dads inspect them.

“Looks good,” Victor commented, smiling crookedly.

“Agreed. As much as I hate her, she did a good job painting your nails. Not only that, but the colour looks incredible on you, my boy.”

Giggling, Andrew’s cheeks turned a light pink colour. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Roman replied softly, gently stroking his boy’s cheek with his knuckles.

While Roman would never be able to like Harley, he guessed that perhaps he should at least try to tolerate her some more. For Andrew. He wanted to do him right and that meant making some sacrifices, as he’s had to learn from the very beginning of adopting him. It would be okay, though, as long as Andrew never ended up hating his guts the way Roman did with his own father.