Hi love, I hope you're doing alright. I've stumbeled upon your fic today and binge read the whole thing before realising it as a wip. it was such a grasping anc comppeling story i read it in one go? I've notice whi haven't updated it for more than over a year now, or have you posted anything on here.your story made me feel so much today and i hope we get to see more of it. I don't know you, but i hope only good thing are keeping you from being here, and if not that life will tret you well soon
Hi! First of all -- wow. Your message was seriously the highlight of day (and probably the whole week). Thank you so much! It means a lot. And yes, it has been over a year (oh god...). I remember I was writing so much back then because I was unemployed, then I got a job, but then the lockdown happened, and I had time again. Now, I'm really busy with my job, focusing on my career, and things are going so well. I miss writing though! I want to finish this story some day, I got it all planned out... I post chapters only on AO3. I've definitely started the next chapter, I just need to find my motivation again. Again, thank you so so much, and I hope you're doing good as well! x
For the first time in his life, Harry was throwing a party. A real one. A big one.
The last one had been 16 years ago when he’d invited his class mates for his 10th birthday, playing blind man’s bluff and eating cream cake. Despite the fun they had, it all ended in tears, so little Harry had enough of parties that involved people who weren’t his friends. Adult Harry shared the same viewpoints, but tonight, he pushed the past aside to forget the present and celebrate the future.
With Gemma and his father gone, Harry was the man of the house, and as the host of this great spectacle, he did everything to please his extravagant guests. Everyone was welcomed, every snob and every diva, and so, it didn’t take long for the place to get crowded. The night was young and wasteful, empty champagne bottles littering the shiny floor in every room, music loud with people’s screams even louder, the party was like a battle field, dancing bodies fighting against the booming music, teeth crashing for messy kisses, sweat dripping, drunks stripping.
They all let go, forgetting who they were to become someone new for the night. Harry watched over them, sipping on his beer as he stood on top of the staircase, it would be his only beer for tonight, because he needed all his senses to find him.
When Harry woke up the next day, his first instinct was to check his left side, reaching out and scanning every inch with his hand in hope of catching smooth skin and a curvy waist. But there was nothing, the space next to him completely empty and cold.
For a moment — while heaving his heavy limps out of bed in order to resist the temptation of sleeping away the whole day — Harry wondered if it had been all a dream, but his brain was quick to bombard him with all the memories, especially the one at the airport, playing the heartbreaking scene over and over. He groaned, grabbing his pillow to throw it across the room, hitting the wall and the ghost of David.
Monday was already proving its reputation of being the worst day of the week.
„Can I keep it?“, David suddenly asked, causing Harry to blink in slight confusion, slowly raising his gaze to find a clue on his face, but there was nothing except hungry eyes and perfect straight teeth matching the white sheets.
„Keep what?“
David wiggled both eyebrows before answering. „Your panties.“
Harry’s eyes winded, because he knew exactly which pair he meant. His reaction made the other laugh — a raspy, sexy laugh filling the room that sweetened the oxygen Harry was breathing, sparkles tickling his lungs, igniting a fire. „Okay?“, he breathed, frowning. „I mean… like why? Do you collect this kind of stuff?“ It was meant to be a joke, but once spoken out loud, Harry thought about it, about the possibility of David being a womanizer who treasured his best fucks in form of a drawer full of lingerie.
„Yeah, I have a full collection of them“, David hummed. „They’re organized by colour and design, and every single night, I read bedtime stories to them.“ The extra portion of sarcasm was crashing Harry’s worry, shaking his head as he rolled his eyes.
Summery: Harry hadn't seen it coming, none of it. From his parents divorce to the beautiful stranger that came into his life like a falling star, lighting his darkest nights and making his deepest wish come true. But the thing with shooting stars was that they only last for a moment.
It had to be a dream, a fragment of his imagination or maybe it was a guardian angel? Sent from above to fix him, teach him. An angel that would appear when he was most needed, but would disappear without a warning. How could someone be so... Healing, compassionate, alluring. Harry was about to meet his saving grace, a man who would leave him questioning everything.
Hey, hi, hello and how you doin'? I've read your series of Simply and Sanely series and I was wondering if you are still continuing on it? It's been a while so I'm not so sure.
Hey, I'm doing good! I hope you too❤
I've actually started with chapter 9 and I'm really trying to finish it as soon as possible, but it's quite time consuming. I'll hope to upload it next month. Thanks for reading & have a lovely day!
We know that Jerome Valeska was a killer but would he have been able to rape a woman? Rape is a very serious crime. In no way I approve of it.
I don't know to which chapter you're referring to, but I agree! Jeremiah, despite his criminal nature, would never have raped someone. If there's an indication then it's just to frighten/irritate the reader.
A/N: I can’t believe I actually did it, but here it is: chapter 8! 🎉
I’m sorry for the wait. As I was writing this part, I realized how much I’ve missed this series and writing in general. I’m sad that Gotham is over, but I rewatched some episodes and fell in love again. Warning: this chapter is really long! So grab a drink and some snacks, get cozy and enjoy!
Also: If you want to support me, I’ll be more than grateful for a cup of coffee!
https://ko-fi.com/anniartheart Thank you!❤️
Summary: Y/N gets in trouble and Jeremiah helps her. But little does she know that he drags her into more trouble, making Y/N a part of his plans. Forcing her to enter the dangerous life of Gotham’s underworld.
Pairing: Jeremiah Valeska x Reader
Word count: 4,693
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7
🖤Masterlist🖤
Previously:
„Hi!“ He waved with his gun and wore a devious grin. „I’m Victor Zsasz and I’m here to pick you up. The Penguin wants to talk to you.“
__
The air was burning in your lungs. Every breath was agony, but the pain was evidence of your liveliness, so you gladly endured it.
Still coughing, you gathered up the little strength that was left in your trembling body and sat up. You raised your head to look at the black dressed man.
„Alright. Take me to him“, you agreed.
Victor titled his head a little, a deep frown on his face. It was then that you noticed his missing eyebrows.
„Well, I was hoping you’d make a fuss. That was too easy“, he almost complained and you mirrored his confusion. „Why?“, you asked.
He casually pointed with his gun towards you. „Wanted to shoot your knee. You know, the pretty ones scream the most.“
Your hand, that had just started to carefully rub your bruised neck, went abruptly still. The familiar craziness in his dark eyes sent shivers down your spine.
„Is everyone in this god damn city crazy?“, you mumbled to yourself and Victor grinned.
„Welcome to Gotham, sweet cheeks.“
You just glanced up at the man, too exhausted to be either upset or scared. But you were concerned: the gun, which Selina had given you for protection, was now laying close to Mr. Ricci’s body.
You doubted for Victor’s approval to take the weapon along to Oswald’s meeting, so you had to come up with something. Bending over the dead man, you searched his pockets for anything of value. While you put his wallet and golden rings into your clutch, Victor whistled to express his surprise, as well as admiration.
„Tough litte thing. I like you.“ You heard the dull steps of his heavy boots getting closer. Calmly, you snatched the gun and stored it away before the steps stopped behind you.
„Time to go“, he said.
__
The GCPD Headquarters resembled a sinking ship. There was utter chaos; swarms of equipped police officers rushed out of the building, the telephones kept ringing while short-staffed officers had to deal with worried citizens. One by one, they stormed into the Headquarters and demanded answers.
„Who’s responsible for that?!“
„Are we safe?!“
„Where’s James Gordon? What is he going to do?!“
„There he is!“, someone yelled and pointed up to the first floor. Gordon, who had just ended a phone call with Gotham’s major, stepped out of his office. He clenched his jaw at the sight of the furious mob and walked down the stairs.
„Please, do not panic“, Gordon said and raised both hands calmingly, but it didn’t work. Angry faces stared back at him and someone snorted loudly.
„Not panic? Someone, god knows who, blew up the library and we are supposed to not panic?!“
„I understand you…“, Gordon reassured, „… and we do everything in our power to put the bomber under arrest. As for now, there’s no need for an evacuation. Avoiding public spots and staying home is the safest option.“
Finally, his words seemed to make an impact as people gradually fell silent. Gordon sighed impalpably and waited patiently for further questions - when all of a sudden, he spotted Selina’s face.
The teenage girl barged her way through the crowds, until she reached the front row.
„Selina? What are you doing here?“, the commissioner asked, clearly confused.
„I need to talk to you!“, she urged and came to a stand next to Gordon, who frowned.
„If it’s because of the explosion, then…-“
„It has to do with a friend of mine!“, Selina interrupted him. Judging by her tensed expression, the situation seemed rather serious, so Gordon put a hand on her back and took a few steps away from the people.
„What’s your friend’s name?“
„Y/N“, she replied, quick like a shot and Gordon thought he had misheard her. Due to the babel of voices and ringtones, it was not far-fetched and so Gordon asked again: „Your friend’s name is Y/N? Y/L/N?“
Now it was Selina’s turn to frown. „You know her?“
„I talked to her, yes. What is the matter?“
Even though Selina was clearly confused, she wasted no time. „Penguin is looking for her. I don’t know what’s going on, but she’s also involved with this maniac Jeremiah. I saw them having dinner, she asked me for a gun and I gave her one and-“
The more Selina revealed, the more absent Gordon became. He turned away from the girl as his thoughts spun over in his mind.
„Hey!“, Selina called and followed him. „Did you listen to me? Y/N is in serious trouble and we need to help her! Now!“
Luckily, Harvey Bullock walked over to Gordon with a file in his hand and the commissioner intercepted his partner by grabbing the man’s shoulder. „We have to see Oswald. Y/N is more involved than we thought“, Jim informed him, his serious gaze put a frown on Harvey’s face.
„The wonderland-lady?“ The detail got Selina’s attention and she pushed herself between the two police officers, making her presence hard to ignore.
„Okay, what’s going on here? Why did you talk to Y/N?“, she demanded. Selina’s almond-shaped eyes stared at Gordon expectantly and the GCPD captain, who was familiar with her stubbornness, sighed.
„Spit it out!“
„She was a witness of a crime scene that involved Jeremiah“, Gordon explained harsher than intended, but Selina didn’t care. The new information left her stunned and a loud snort escaped her lips as she shook her head.
„Wait, so… you knew that she had made contact with that maniac and you did what: nothing?!“
„Selina…“, Gordon tried to allay the upset teenage girl, but failed. Selina just raised her hands to hush him and backed out.
„I thought your job was to protect people!“, she exclaimed. Wild flames of anger were roaring deep inside of her, turning her blood into lava. If this green-eyed lunatic laid a finger on you, god have mercy, she would stab him to death.
„Selina, wait!“ Gordon’s attempt to stop her fell on deaf ears. He had no other choice than to watch Selina disappear into the crowd, probably about to do something rash.
„Did she just criticize our way of working?“, Bullock asked offended, but Gordon gritted his teeth and quickly grabbed a pack of ammunition from a colleague’s table.
„Let’s go.“
__
The sharp echo of your heels was the only sound as you walked the dimmed hallway of Oswald’s underground fortress. Your inner tension grew with every step you took and turned minutes into hours.
Now and then, you glimpsed at Victor who kept staring straight forward and you couldn’t help but look at his arm. After he’d shot Mr. Ricci, the hitman had guided you to a car and hardly inside the vehicle, he cut himself with a razor. The sight of the many scars on his arm left you shocked until now. You gulped at the memory.
Suddenly, you heard an awful scream coming from inside at the back and you jumped around - but no one was there. Again, another loud scream rang out from the distance and Victor flashed a smile that revealed his sharp teeth.
„Unfortunately, we can’t join this party.“ His gloved hand found the small of your back, but you refused to walk. Were they going to torture you as well?
The possibility evoked waves of anxiety and in a moment, you were paralyzed with fear.
„Move“, Victor growled as he pushed you forward. „Please“, you breathed, searching for any sympathy in his dark eyes, a glint of hope - but despite the dangerous sparkle in his intense stare, there was nothing but evil nature.
„Please, what? You finally wanna get shot in the knee?“, he asked in anticipation.
Your eyes widened and before you could react, Victor’s firm grip picked you up and put your body over his shoulder. A squeal escaped your throat while you clung to the black fabric of his blazer for support.
„See, I like you better this way. It’s more fun.“ He started to whistle as he carried you further into the never-ending tunnel, ignoring your protests. After a while, you resigned and waited for Victor to stop and when he did, you looked up.
„Final destination, sweet cheeks“, he announced and before he put you down, Victor lightly slapped your backside which caused you to flinch.
As soon as your feet touched the ground, another voice caught your attention.
„Ah! My guest of honor has arrived!“ A rather short man, dressed in a grey stripped morning suit, approached you. He limped across the spacious room, using a walking stick in the process.
„I’m Oswald Cobblepot. Pleasure to meet you!“ You hesitantly took his outstretched hand and he enthusiastically shook it.
„Y/N L/N.“
Judging by his cheerful smile, he was indeed very pleased to see you and it increased your chance of survival.
„Please“, Oswald gestured you to enter. While he hobbled back to his seat near the fireplace, you briefly glanced at Victor’s military figure who stood guard next to the door. Somehow, your gut told you to keep an eye on him and when he cheekily winked at you, you followed Oswald by going through the open double-door.
Two freshly poured glasses of wine awaited you at the long table. The furniture, with its many chairs on both sides, reminded you of a centipede.
„Miss Y/N, there are two things that you need to know about me…“, the black-haired criminal began, handing you one glass and you listened. He seated himself on the pretentious arm chair and took a sip as he waited for you to do the same.
„You see, I’m a very impatient man with a temper who never beats around the bush“, Oswald clarified and that’s when you noticed that his excessive smile didn’t reach his eyes.
He seemed to wait. „I understand“, you eventually said, nodding.
„That being said…“, he leaned closer, elbows on the table as his glance bored into yours, „… I want to know where Jeremiah Valeska is.“
Jeremiah Valeska. This goddamn name. It was his fault for dragging you into this world of chaos and death. Whatever power game these two were playing, and considering the recent events, one thing was for sure: it wouldn’t end in your favor.
Your only option was to get out of this, as soon as possible, and in order to achieve that you had to play your cards right…
>>I want your pretty lips to be sealed.<< That’s what he said. The last time you’d ignored his instruction, Jeremiah blew up a library. So what should you do?
Oswald sensed your inner conflict and all it took from him to get your attention back was to slam his glass on the table.
„Impatient“, he reminded you. His arm chair screeched as he stood up, slowly wandering behind you.
„I’m tired, extremely tired of getting excuses instead of answers“, he said and took your hand in his, caressing your fingers with his thumb. „And this is not personal, I reassure you, but I will torn out your fingernails, one by one if you remain silent!“
„Ah!“, you gasped at his sudden tight grip that painfully squeezed your fingers.
„Talk, woman!“
Then, an idea popped up in your mind. It was a risky move, but you gave it a whirl.
„I know where Martin is!“
„What?“ Oswald let go of your hand. He yanked your stool to the side so that you were facing him.
„What did you say?!“, he asked again, his whole face strained and a look of complete bewilderment in his eyes. Jackpot.
Leaning closer, you felt your heart racing. At last, the sweet hope of freedom seemed within your reach and you pulled yourself together to keep a cool head.
„Mr. Cobblepot, the only thing you need to know about me is my honesty…“ Oswald hung on your every word; with every fiber of his body, he was ready to believe you. Naturally, Oswald was being torn from his trance as your hands cupped his.
„I want Martin to be safe and sound. He’s just an innocent child that shouldn’t experience such horrific things.“
„So he’s okay? He’s alive?“
You nodded. „Yes. Physically, he’s in best health.“
„Oh, thank god!“, Oswald gasped out in relief, his shoulders visibly dropping. Poor man, he had been subjected to uncertainty for far too long.
„He…- Jeremiah… brought me to his hideout, a bunker, where he holds Martin hostage. Please trust me when I say that an unfortunate event made our paths cross. I’m just a pawn in a rigged game, like Martin.“
Lips pressed into a thin line, Oswald tried to regain his composure, but there was something else. His icy blue eyes studied you intensely, it wasn’t as extreme as Jeremiah’s stare, but equally unpleasant.
„The dart of an eye, tensing of forehead… the littlest thing can say a lot“, he remarked, pulling his hand out of your grip. He silently continued his observation and you put a brave face on - after all, you were telling the truth and your confident aura made Oswald chuckle.
The chuckle, however, soon turned into laughter which left you clueless. And in a swift movement, Oswald slammed his palm on the table and the laughter stopped. You almost jumped up from your seat.
„Excellent!“, he cheered. „I’m pleased to see that you’re not lying! So, I assume you’ll help us?“
You bit your lower lip. „I’m going to show you the bunker, yes. But on one condition.“
Oswald’s knowing smile encouraged you to keep talking.
„I want protection for me and my sister. After all, Jeremiah won’t be pleased to have me helping you“, you said and the man pursed his lips.
„Fine! If there’s nothi…-“
A storm of gunshots interrupted Oswald mid-sentence and he turned to Victor, alarmed. The bald killer, who already held two guns in each hand, stepped back to cover you and his boss. Heavy footsteps echoed in the hallway and a group of armored men entered the room.
„Oswald Cobblepot“, one of them addressed the Penguin as he raised his hand, holding a document.
„We’re here on behalf of Mr. Ricci. You didn’t pay on time, so we’re going to confiscate your toys.“
Mr. Ricci is dead, you thought smugly and glanced up at Victor.
Without wasting time, the men aimed for the room in the back, stowing away all kinds of weapons and ammunition in bags and suitcases.
In a matter of minutes, the group of 20 had emptied half of the room’s stock.
„What?! That’s ridiculous! I’ve already made payments!“, Oswald explained, more than upset. He limped to the leader of the group, the one with the document and ripped the piece of paper from his hand.
„Wait, that’s the payment for next month. Today’s the 5th!“
„Change of deadline“, the man simply replied with a shrug. „According to the document, the payment was due on the 3rd. That’s why we’ll keep your stuff for three days, like the general terms and conditions says and oh, look: that’s your signature down there. So quit the whining.“
Of course it was fake, but it didn’t stop the pillaging. Oswald was helpless, but then he rushed towards you.
„You!“, he yelled. „You knew about it!“, he pulled at your hair, forcing your body to stand up.
„No! I have nothing to do with this, I swear!“ He scoffed.
„Oh, I know about your little diner date! What kind of deal did this maniac do with Mr. Ricci?!“ He pulled again, twirling your hair around his hand to get a firmer grip.
„I don’t know!“
„Liar!“
„I’m not! I was sent to the car! I have no idea what they talked about!“, you asserted desperately. Tears were streaming down your face as the burning sensation on your scalp became unbearable. Oswald looked at Victor and he nodded, confirming your story.
„Whatever!“, the criminal spat, pushing you against Victor who caught you.
„There’s no time to lose! Get me together a good bunch of men, Victor! We’ll put an end to this circus.“
__
You fumbled with your hands nervously as you scanned the passing buildings. The car, a silver-painted rust bucket, drove the familiar route to your apartment. Oswald Cobblepot, Victor Zsasz and a murky-looking guy behind the wheel were also inside the vehicle. While Oswald occupied the front row, you tried your best to ignore the hitman next to you - but you could feel his eyes on you.
To your surprise, you were able to persuade Oswald in seeing your sister before you’d head to the bunker.
Repeatedly, you were looking behind you, but despite two more cars of Oswald’d men, there wasn’t anything suspicious. No Jeremiah.
„Relax. Your are in good hands“, Victor ensured, smirking like the mad-man he was.
After fifteen minutes, you’d arrived.
„Hurry up“, Oswald commanded and you nodded, running across the street.
While climbing the stairs five floors up to your apartment, you used the time to rethink your plan.
First of all, you would guide Oswald and his men to the bunker in the forest - that was the easiest part. The real challenge was to get them inside. Okay, think. How will you do this?
There were cameras outside the bunker, so there was no point in sneaking in as Jeremiah would detect your group.
Therefore, it had to be you. He’d certainly open the door for you and once inside, you had to shut down the alarm and monitoring system. So far, so good.
Then, you’d unlock the door for Oswald and provided with a map of the labyrinth that you’d sketch, they should be able to find Martin. After that, it was a race against time to get out alive.
Your heartbeat quickened as your imagination went further, thinking about the last and final part of your plan. The second Martin was free, safe and sound in the woods, you would face Jeremiah and…-
Just when you arrived on the fifth floor, keys ready in your hands, you paused at the sight of your door. It was open.
In the blink of an eye, millions of horror scenarios flooded your mind and they all included your beloved sister. No, no, no. Please, god. I beg you.
You grabbed the gun in your bag by instinct as you tiptoed closer, carefully listening for any noises inside your apartment, but it was dead silent.
Taking a deep breath, you slowly sneaked in your dark hallway and got an overview. Everything seemed to be on its place, there weren’t any hints for a break-in. But even though you couldn’t see anything suspicious, you could definitely smell it.
The intruder had left an obtrusive scent, a strong cologne that laid in the air, telling you that you were not alone.
Of course, you were going to inspect your sister’s room above all.
Your heart was painfully hammering against your chest, so much that you were afraid it could explode at any second. But it wasn’t fear that pumped the blood through your veins, no. It was pure anger.
Whoever dared to break into your home and possibly harm your sister - hell would be salvation after you were done with that bastard.
One last step, and you were just two feet away from your sister’s room. You bent slightly forward to sneak a peek and immediately regretted it as the old wooden floor creaked under your weight.
„Fuck!“, you hissed and saw a shadow move through the tiny crack of the door. Without losing more time, you bursted into the room.
„Hands up or I’ll shoot!“, you yelled, holding the gun with straightened arms in front of you.
The intruder, a man that stood on the other side of the room, turned out to be none other than Jeremiah Valeska.
Dressed in a dark purple suit and shiny black shoes, he titled his head to stroke his sleek hair.
„Is that how you welcome guests, my dear?“, he criticized while readjusting his tie.
„What are you doing here?“ The disapproval in your voice and the fact that you didn’t lower your gun made one of his curved eyebrows perk up.
„Paying you a visit. Isn’t it obvious?“
You followed his gaze and spotted the fresh flowers on the nightstand - a bunch of beautiful white lilies.
„Looks more like housebreaking“, you corrected him, checking on your sister. She seemed fine, the machines worked and the monitor showed normal levels.
„What a pity…“, Jeremiah spoke in his monotone voice. „She looks like Sleeping Beauty, waiting for her prince charming to kiss her awake and not like… brain-dead.“
„Shut up“, you growled through gritted teeth and Jeremiah quietly clicked his tongue.
„My apologies.“
For several minutes, darkness and silence reigned. While you had him in your sights, gun still in your hand, Jeremiah kept a close eye on you as well - his face moving like a sculpture carved out of stone. So, secretly giving up on reading him, you focused on the rhythmical beeping of the life-saving machine. The sound reminded you of a clock whose beeping declared every passed second.
„So“, Jeremiah said, walking with long steps ahead to pause in front of you. Even though you owned a gun, his piercing green eyes never failed to create an uneasiness. His all-knowing glance made you aware of the fact that you were like an open book to him - he read line by line, every detail and every secret.
The longer he stared at you, the more nervous you became. And when he spoke again, it was the final straw.
„Tell me… How was your evening with Mr. Ricci?“
The man’s name alone triggered you immensely and forced you to relive the terrifying moment. Anger, fear, helplessness and panic - the cocktail of emotions clouded your mind.
„You son of a bitch!“ Without thinking twice, you’d raised your hand and slapped him, so hard that the sharp smack teared the air in half.
„Who do you think you are?! That pervert degraded me, almost killed me! I am not your fucking property, you psycho!“ Your voice was shaking. And so was your body.
You glared at Jeremiah’s profile; the impact had turned his head; and watched as he carefully touched his cheek.
„Now, now. How ungrateful“, he whispered and in the next breath, you were slammed against the wall. You didn’t know when, but Jeremiah had deprived you of the gun, pressing now his forearm against your chest to keep you in place. It hurt.
„It’s astonishing how you keep forgetting that I’ve saved your life.“ His other hand gripped your chin, his thump resting on your lower lip.
„Instead of those ugly words, I was expecting to hear expressions of gratitude. Mr. Ricci was a gift from me, after all.“
„A gift?“
„Yes“, he hissed, leaning closer until his warm breath collided with your heated skin. „Don’t presume I didn’t notice your little exchange in the bathroom. I’m not stupid, my dear.“
You squirmed, but Jeremiah wouldn’t let go. His thumb started to caress your trembling lip and it made you freeze in place.
„Mr. Ricci was the perfect candidate.“
„The perfect candidate for what?“, you asked and he grinned.
„The perfect candidate to be your first victim.“ Suddenly, all the anger was gone and had been replaced by disbelief. What did he say?
„Oh, please“, Jeremiah half-heartedly moaned and rolled his eyes, „Don’t play the good girl. Of course you were going to use the gun and I wanted to give you the opportunity.“
„And why would I thank you?“ All he said made no sense, if anything - it only proved his madness. He purposely put you in this dangerous situation, just so that you were forced to kill Mr. Ricci.
„You see, Y/N, killing a person is a life-changing experience. It gives you power.“ Your puzzled and disturbed look seemed to amuse him.
„But you didn’t, did you?“
„No“, you confessed and were unsure whether you should feel proud or guilty. However, it worried you that Jeremiah already knew the answer and you wondered: how much more did he know?
Then, he suddenly pulled back his arms and you staggered.
„What a pity“, he mumbled, sounding like a disappointed father. Jeremiah walked to the window and shoved the curtains a little aside to look at the street.
„I see that you’ve made the acquaintance of Oswald“, he commented casually and you detected a hint of satisfaction. Shit, there went your plan.
But why didn’t he seem angry or bothered? After all, he’d told you to lie about Martin and yet again, you didn’t obey him.
Every muscle in your body tensed and you awaited an explosion somewhere in the city.
„I guess it can’t be helped then.“
Your eyes were locked on the ground as you listened to Jeremiah’s footsteps, coming closer and closer. If he wasn’t going to set a bomb, then…
Automatically, you stepped in front of your sister’s bed and met the criminal. He was towering over you, radiating an aura of arrogance and craziness. When he raised the gun, you were ready to beg.
„Guide them to the bunker. I’ll be waiting for you“, he said and put the weapon in your hand. You couldn’t believe it. It took you a moment to realize that you and your sister were still alive and after you’d regained your composure, you turned around to face Jeremiah.
He stood next to the bed and observed the sleeping girl.
„I’m impressed“, he admitted and you frowned. „It’s heart-warming how much you care for her. My brother never did. He was turning my childhood into a living nightmare.“
Unsure how to react, you decided to just listen, but Jeremiah straightened his back and pulled at his jacket.
„I’ll see you then. Don’t dawdle. We have a long night ahead of us“, he told you and left the room. You held your breath to hear the click of the closing apartment door and when it did, you collapsed on the ground.
„Thank god“, you whispered at the verge of tears. Crawling next to the bed, you grabbed your sister’s warm hand and squeezed it. She was alive.
Even though you were more than relieved, you knew that it wasn’t over yet. As Jeremiah that: the night was long and Martin was still trapped in the bunker.
You stood up, kissed your sister goodbye and rushed out of the apartment. Oswald was still waiting and you didn’t want to waist anymore time. Pull yourself together, you can do it!
You stepped out into the cold night and headed for the silver car. Whatever Jeremiah had in mind, you needed to outsmart him. For Martin’s sake.
„Y/N!“, a familiar voice called and you turned your head. James Gordon got out of his car, one hand lurking on the gun by his hip while he approached you.
You came to a halt in the middle of the street, not sure what to do.
„Don’t!“, you warned the GCPD captain, but he ignored it. He kept walking.
„Listen! No matter what’s going on, I will help you! You need to trust me, Y/N!“
„Hi, Jim!“ Victor’s upper body popped out of the silver car’s window. He held two guns that aimed for the GCPD officer as a devious grin decorated his features.
„Bye, Jim!“ Countless shots aimed for Gordon; the defeating noise made you cower and closing your eyes. A scream echoed and you flinched. Did Victor shot a woman?
It was hard to think probably amongst that hailstorm of flying bullets, but you noted that it had been your scream.
Concerned about the officer, you opened your eyes again and a dazzling light blinded you. One, two, three seconds was the amount of time your brain needed to process the situation - a truck sped towards you. Your heart stopped beating.
To be continued…
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7
🖤Masterlist🖤
Tag-List: (Please let me know if you want to be added)
I got tagged by @gothamgeek-86 and @1-gotham to answer 17 questions about myself. Thank you! 💖 So, since I’ve never done one of these, let’s give it a go:
1. Nickname: I’m half German and half Russian. So in German my nickname is Anni, while my parents call me Anuschka, which is the Russian version of my name (so ‚Ava‘ is not my real name).
2. Zodiac: Scorpio.
3. Height: 170 cm or 5’7“.
4. Dream Job: I’m a Visual Merchandiser with main focus on visual design, but I would love to work in the film industry.
5. Top 5 Favorite Shows: Mr. Robot, Gotham, Bates Motel, AHS, Chosen (there are way more…I’m watching Downton Abby atm).
6. Hobbies: Writing, drawing, dancing and spending too much time overthinking stuff.
7. Favorite Drink: Either Caramel Macchiato or a nice homemade Hot Cocoa. I use hazelnut milk, cocoa powder, brown sugar and vanilla - and depending on my cravings - vegan marshmallows and a pint of cinnamon on top.
8. Bad Habits: I tend to bottle up my emotions.
9. Likes: TV-Series, rain, spending time with friends, laughing, train-rides, sunsets, the smell of autumn, cinemas.
10. Top Ten Favorite Characters: Will Graham, Norman Bates, Elliot Alderson, Scarlett O’Hara, Newt Scamander, The Joker (TDK), Jerome/Jeremiah Valeska, Roman Godfrey, Kevin W. Crumb, James P. March.
11. Tattoos: No.
12. Five Emojis To Describe Me: 🤔✍️☕️ 💃🍂
13. One Thing I Hate: Judgment. Just let people live their lives.
14. Quotes: “If you can dream it, you can do it.“
15. Hair color: Brown.
16. Favorite color: Grey, Lilac and Mustard.
17. Random facts: Let’s see… I have a resting bitch face, my all-time favorite band is Muse and I have a weird habit of copying the emotions of characters I write about, e.g. when someone is angry then I’m furrowing my brows and when the person’s happy, I’ll smile. Oh, and I’m a vegetarian.
Okay, I tag these wonderful people:
@the-little-warbler @riddlersriddlet @selmeuuh @nikkipaigesalinas @raineejfa @kathryn-jane @marvelmayo @psychobitchtess
Requested by anon: can i request a post-spray (crazy?) jeremiah x reader based on the song chills by down with webster?
Pairing: Jeremiah Valeska x Reader
Word count: 1,878
The dark zone was comparable to a tumor - destructive and toxic, with a insatiable appetite for the innocents. Growing day by day, spreading the deadly madness by infected minds, Gotham was helpless against Jeremiah’s power.
The lost connection to mainland had turned the city into a place of pure chaos. It was satisfaction that ran through your veins as you stood on the church’s roof and admired the city’s downfall.
Pitch-black smoke, echos of gunfire mixed with the desperate screams of murder victims - the combination was enchanting. The GCPD has lost the fight, Gotham had finally fallen and was now ready to be reborn.
You had joined Jeremiah shortly after a burglar cut your parents’s throats one night. While you sat in the waiting area of the GCPD, a rather disinterested looking officer approached you.
„Y/N Y/L/N?“, he called your name and you jumped up.
„That’s me! I’m here because of the murder of…-“ But the man just waved his hand to hush you.
„Yeah, I know. Well…“, he said and briefly looked over the file in his hands, „… we found no fingerprints at the crime scene. Case closed.“ His monotone words hurt like a resounding slap.
„There were no police officers at my home, no one investigated the bedroom and-!“
„Listen up, doll. We have a lot of cases to handle that are way more important, okay?“
More important. That are way more important.
Two people had died, honest citizens of Gotham City that had paid their rents in time and worked in voluntary capacity.
It was the third time that week in which your case got denied.
You wanted to scream, to push and punch the emotionless visage of the man in front of you that showed zero sympathy nor dedication.
Anger spread across your body like a wildfire, making your cheeks burn and your heart beat twice its regular pace. You were sure that lava had replaced your blood and just as you raised your burning hand to hit the officer, another one screamed intently: „That maniac is in front of the building! Jeremiah Valeska!“
All of a sudden, everybody left their desks to storm outside. And even the bored office seemed tensed as he passed you. Without thinking twice, you followed the crowed to spot a group of people that stood erectly in line, all armored like soldiers. Their faces painted in white, they firmly yelled „Jeremiah! Jeremiah!“ after the man in front of them had spoken to Harvey Bullock.
I fell, like soldiers on the front line
Under your spell, in the magic you inspire
Every farewell, sets me on fire
And I find it all so funny,
Like a joke without a punchline
It was your first encounter with Jeremiah, a decree of fate that would change your life.
He then pushed the button in his hand and the Gotham Clock Tower, the solid huge building that stood there since your birth and long before, exploded and collapsed like a house of cards. And as the bricks and steel case crumbled down, your faith in justice did as well.
Gotham deserved it.
This rotten city deserved every god damn bloody attack to force its corrupt law on their knees. A smile formed on your lips that day.
You climbed down the roof and entered the prayer room through the broken window. Countless corpses covered the floor, stacked over one another, but you walked over the meaty pile recklessly, lighting one of the many shrines.
„How virtuous“, Jeremiah’s voice resonated from behind and you shuddered. The little flame of the candle danced raptly as his foot steps approached you. His hand touched your cheek to wipe away the blood stains of your last victim. Jeremiah let his gaze casually glide over the dead bodies before he spoke.
„You take your job very seriously“, he remarked and you nodded.
„Of course. Loyalty is best shown with a gun pressed against your head“, you purred, the memory made your eyes sparkle in excitement.
Jeremiah copied your smirk and while he rewarded you with his deep intense stare, he licked the blood off of his fingers.
My heart's racing, trying to catch up to you,
The light that you let off is gold
I can't shake this feeling it fills the room,
These chills didn't come from the cold
They came from you
They came from you
With his hand around your waist, Jeremiah guided you down to the underground where his adherents, the ones you had chosen to be worthy, carried heavy boulders. The tunnel was doing great and you felt proud.
Jeremiah inspected the progress while you admired his stern face. His pale skin and sharp jawline lured you into the illusion that his head was made of marble. And like stone, his skin felt cold as you brushed your fingertips against his cheek.
„Do you need more workers?“, you asked.
Jeremiah, who elegantly turned around to face you, greeted you with hungry eyes. „Oh, I need so much more…“
Whatever it was, you were more than willing to get it for him, because he was the one who had opened the door of your cage. Who’d opened your eyes.
Now, you were finally free like a bird, spreading your black wings to fulfill his visions.
Suddenly, a piercing scream echoed from the tunnel and a man walked out with a limp. The fabric of his left pant leg was soaked in blood and a hole exposed the ugly flesh wound.
„Help me!“, the man whined and fell on his knees, screaming again.
He then crawled over to Jeremiah and grabbed his ankles. The man’s dirty hands stained the pearly-white socks, but Jeremiah didn’t move an inch.
Instead, he raised his chin to shot you a glance, one that hit like a whiplash and caressed you feathery, all at the same time. Automatically, you knew what to do as you pulled out the gun, a xx, and pressed it against the man’s forehead.
„Please“, he tried to swayed you, but it was too late. The bullet bored itself through his brain and killed the poor man instantly. His lifeless body collapsed on the ground and Jeremiah stepped over it, releasing a deep theatrical sigh.
„What a shame.“
All the workers who’d witnessed the incident became silent. The air felt heavier than before, the smell of death and fear lingered around and no one dared to say a word. They were afraid - the craziness in your pretty eyes was reason enough to shut their mouths.
„Get him to the stove“, Jeremiah commanded and two men put the dead body in a wheelbarrow to get him out. By now, this had become a regular procedure.
„Inability is not acceptable“, Jeremiah spoke up, pacing slowly forward to meet the tensed faces of his workers. „We have a strict schedule and incompetence, my dear fellows, will be punished.“
I hear your voice like an ocean,
Washing over me I'm frozen stuck in time.
And I swear, I never seen the likes of you before.
And I promise this ain't difficult, doesn't happen every night
His voice was like a drug. Like sweet wine, you would savor every drop of it, capture every single vibration.
While every men within whose stonewalls met Jeremiah’s face with horror, it was pure admiration that he spotted on you. True love hidden in your eyes that put an evil smirk on Jeremiah’s lips.
Lips that rewarded your loyalty at that night.
Gotham might had become a place like hell, but every time your lover’s lips touched your skin - it was heaven.
„Tell me…“, Jeremiah whispered against your naked stomach and you shuddered.
„How far would you go for me?“
The question was too easy. „I would do everything for you“, you replied honestly, closing your eyes and sighing in pleasure as his cold hands caressed your sides. Every touch ignited a little fire on your already burning skin.
„Good“, he said. „And would you die for me?“
This time, you opened your eyes to look at Jeremiah. He was sitting next to you on the bed, his green eyes gleaming in the dark as he stared at you.
„Yes.“
A small sound, comparable to a moan, escaped his throat.
„Proof it.“ His command caught you off guard. In the next moment, you sat up straight, covering your naked upper body with the old bedcover.
„Don’t be afraid, dear…“, he hissed and leaned closer. His pupils were dilated, sparkling black in the weak moonlight.
Suddenly, you were his prey; being trapped by his towering figure and intense glare. It made you feel helpless, small, vulnerable and so much aroused.
Before you could react, Jeremiah sneaked his right hand under his jacket and the slowly revealed gun took your breath away.
„Take it“, he softly instructed and you obeyed. With the gun in your hand, Jeremiah let his eyes absorb the delicious sight in front if him - a sight for the gods. Your exquisite obedience befuddled his mind better than any expensive whisky.
You raised the gun, the sweet weight of it sending chills down your spine. The closer you guided the weapon to your head, the wider Jeremiah’s smile grew - until it turned into an evil grin.
Soon, the gun’s muzzle was pressed against your temple and you waited for his next words. For his final order.
„Look at you…“, Jeremiah said, running his hand through your hair. He touched your cheek and a muffled moan escaped your lips as his thumb entered your mouth forcefully. Without missing a beat, you stared to suck.
„. so good.“ His praise fueled your devotedness. Sucking harder, you closed your eyes and found your inner peace. Your life belonged to Jeremiah.
You knew, the moment you’d taken his hand the first time you saw him in front of the GCPD building, that you’d sold your soul to the devil. He saved you. He made you. He owned you.
A quiet chuckle caused your eyes to open. Jeremiah was ecstatic. His exaggerated smile looked painful, but it was the dripping madness in his striking green orbs that made you swallow.
„Tick tock“, he cut the silence and pulled his thumb out of your mouth. „It’s time, little bird.“
You nodded.
He watched intensely as you cocked the gun; the clicking noise released an overdoses of adrenaline in your veins. Your heart was beating like crazy as you hung on Jeremiah’s every word.
Then, his features turned dead serious. He slowly put his head back, taking a deep breath. It looked like he prayed, muttering unintelligible words under god’s roof. But he didn’t.
No, because god didn’t exist. Gotham was bleeding - criminals ran the city, people had no homes and died of hunger. The only god that watched over this lost city was Jeremiah himself.
Seconds passed, but you waited patiently - until he lowered his head again to look at you.
„Do it“, he whispered and you gulped.
„Do it!“, Jeremiah yelled.
Your eyes widened, hand shaking as you realized that there was no going back. With blood running cold, you finally pulled the trigger.
Bang.
My world came crashing down right under you,
These chills didn't come from the cold,
They came from you.
