Awww yay, I'm so glad you are feeling better and your inspiration is back! Never feel bad if you end up needing more time!
Okay, since you want requests, can I have E32. Having a deep conversation with Ed Nygma from Gotham? Thanks so much! Take care of yourself!
Fandom: Gotham
A/N: "Never feel bad if you end up needing more time" and you sent this on 9th of April. 😂 But I hope you like it Meredith!
Warnings: angst, talk about breakup, but hurt/comfort (because that's what Mer likes ^^). Also I'm still rusty with writing stuff for anyone else than Kaz and Pin but we'll get it rolling again, I hope 😅
Word count: 585
He felt like he was losing his mind. His evil side was stepping up, laughing, taking control of him. It was making him do stuff he would never usually do.
But the most worried he was about you. The Riddler said that love is a weakness, and you were the one he loved. Were you a weakness? Would The Riddler get rid of you? Ed wouldn't be able to take it if he would.
So, he made a tough decision - he had to break up with you before The Riddler would take control. But he wouldn't be able to say it straight to your face - so he started avoiding you. He knew it wasn't the wisest way and he could feel the hurt on his back when he turned away from you when you tried to come hug him or give him a kiss at the precinct.
Ed should have expected it when you came to him and prevented him from leaving, telling him that he'll gonna have to talk to you, and that you can't take it anymore.
Ed stared at you, swallowing a few times before he sighed and sat down on the bench of the dress room, and you sat opposite him.
"He won't leave me alone. He tells me that you're a weakness," he muttered, and you frowned.
"Who?"
Ed took his head to his hands. "The monster inside me. It's going to kill you. I have to protect you, I can't be with you anymore."
You were puzzled - Ed had acted strangely for a few weeks before this behavior, but you didn't know he was this messed up. You took his hand on your own and squeezed. "Ed, you can talk to me about anything, you know that."
Ed looked up, suddenly a hint of darkness coated his eyes but it was gone as soon as it appeared. He ripped his hand off from yours. "He wants to kill you. He keeps saying you're a weakness."
You pressed your lips together before leaning back against the closet. "Who is 'he'?"
Ed fell silent for a moment, looking at his hands. Then he finally said, "The Riddler."
You blinked. Was Ed The Riddler? You were silent for a moment, and Ed shook his head.
"I can't risk it. We can't be together. I can't... you have to move out from Gotham," he babbled and looked up, flinching at something beside you. You looked to your side but saw nothing.
Maybe you were gambling with your life, or maybe you were just plain stupid, but you stubbornly crossed your arms. "Tell The Riddler that he doesn't scare me. I won't abandon my boyfriend, period."
Ed looked up again, glancing at the Riddler who was now seated beside you and looked at you with a small smirk. "I like them."
Ed blinked himself, and The Riddler was gone and he could look at you properly again. His breathing evened out as he gazed in your eyes and then reluctantly nodded.
You knew that you were committing a crime yourself, not turning your boyfriend in after things he had done, but you knew it wasn't Ed who did those things. It was The Riddler. But he would still be thrown to Arkham for life if he got caught. Fortunately you were a police officer - you could cover him up.
You knew it was a corrupted act, but you were too much in love to let Ed get caught. You'd stand by him, whatever it took.
Plot: You worked at the circus as a sort of roadie for a while and kept contact with Jerome throughout his times in Arkham - so of course when he and his 'squad' need a place to hide out before they find Oswald, he of course thinks of you.
So now you're spending the night with the infamous Jerome Valeska, the haunting Scarecrow and the unstable Jervis Tetch in your home.
Warnings: ... I don't think so? Oddly enough? Jervis doesn't rhyme though so there's that. I'm sorry. I cant rhyme ha ha.
~~~
When you opened the door to reveal the three stooges in black and white Arkham stripes, the muscles in your arm flinched- ready to slam the door shut again before rethinking that. Lets try not to insult them, Y/N. That would be for thr best.
"Um... " You eye the two in the back, first. The unmistakable figures of The Scarecrow and Jervis Tetch, an eyebrow raised. Your gaze flickers to the familiar form of Jerome in end though, at the centre like usual. "I assume this is not a social call?"
"We're in need of a place to hide out- Jerome lead us here to... you." A deep, muffled, nightmarish voice comes from the Scarecrow and you nod to him. Thanks. I figured. Jerome himself turns back to you from making a throat slicing / cut-it-out motion with his hand and his neck at Crane, and breaks out in a forced smile. You can tell what kind of expression he's trying to make, as the wide spance of his grotesque lips stretch the tiniest bit. A flicker of movement. And he tilts his head to the side.
"I mean... " His eyebrows push up his forehead. "It could be both??"
"Mhm." Sure. You sigh, though, and step to the side so that they can come into your apartment. What? Like you're going to say no to these three?? You might be friends with Jerome but Jervis wont hesitate to hypnotise you- no matter that Jerome thinks he's the boss.
And that would be the more pleasant way to go; You for sure don't want to see the business end of that fear toxin.
"Man, this sure is nice of you, Y/N." Jerome rattles off, walking around your place picking things up, assessing them from the bottom up, and then putting them back in a slightly different position. Oh, you're going to hate him by the end of this. He glances up at you, sees your glare at what he's doing and smirks as he continues. "Nice place you have, too! Cant believe you never sent me pictures to cure me of Looney Bin Boredom- you rascal. Luckily I found these guys. They're fucked up, A.K.A, Lotsa fun. They've been reading your letters, too! ShArInG iS cArInG! Right? Hahahaha." Oh, great.
I forgot how much he t a l k s.
"Heh," Now Tetch, who stayed standing beside you rather then venturing blindly into your home like his colleagues did, speaks up for the first time and you calm at the chance to listen to a voice not quite as rough and headachy, as your friend's. "Anyway, thank you very much for allowing us to stay, miss! I'd be happy to take a lay, on the floor, if either Mr Crane or Mr Valeska would like the couch?"
Jerome perks up like a parrot and raises his finger. "Um- I'll take Y/N's bed- "
The Scarecrow's neck practically snaps as he turns to the red headed freak and shakes his head. "You will not." Oh, how sweet, you think, pleasantly surprised at the manners the other two villains are demonstrating. "You may be permitted the couch; I'll take the floor with Mr Tetch."
Jerome huffs, and on his way past you to the kitchen hisses your way - which just so happens to also still be Tetch's way, - a mimic of the Scarecrows voice, but slightly airier and lustier. "'I'll take the floor with Mr TETCH!'" Then he disappears into your tiny kitchen to eat, probably, all your goddamn food and possibly some pigeons from out the window. Or at least he'll make some horrible creation out of what's in your cupboard. You can only hope he doesn't try to feed it to anyone.
This leaves you to stand awkwardly alone in the living room with the other, unfamiliar two. One sitting on the couch fiddling with the mechanism on his wrist and the other still standing awkwardly beside you like he doesn't quite know what else he can do.
After a moment, Tetch turns to you with an awkward smile. "Mr Crane and I aren't, uh, romantically involved like Jerome insinuated-
"Don't worry; I know." You assure, still very awkward yourself. Then add an understanding, "Jerome.", as if that explains everything. He nods. It does.
"Right."
"S-so, um... do either of you want, uh... " Glancing at Jervis, gaze flickering up to his hat and the card with a head size scrawled on it, you shrug. "Tea? O-Or... " Looking at the Scarecrow, then, you really don't know what to say. What on earth do Scarecrows drink!? What would be appropriate to offer?? "... coffee?"
"Oh!" Tetch immediately brightens up, starry eyed at the suggestion. He looks like he may have clapped his hands together if he weren't holding a pile of neat looking clothes in his arms. "Tea would be wonderful!" Do they not offer tea at Arkham???
You know what; Probably not.
"Coffee, thank you." The Scarecrow nods, not looking up from his device at first, before something occurs to him and he moves slowly to look at you. "Also, do you have a toolkit?"
"Uh, yah!" Oh, thank god. Tea, coffee, toolbox- all things you can do instead of standing here like a scared, weirdly awkward ninny. "I'll grab it for you."
He returns to his work. "Thank you."
"No problem."
"Uh, actually, miss." Tetch pipes up again, evidently set at ease now since theirs a promise of tea. "I'd like to enquire- would you like some assistance with the tea?"
"Oh, no. I'll be okay, but thank you for offering! I'll get the tea going then bring out a bunch of blankets and pillows for you guys while it heats up. And the toolbox." These two are weirdly polite. Then you tilt your head to the side. "Is there anything else you'd like while I'm here?"
"Indeed! Could you direct me to a place I can get changed?"
"Oh!" You point down the hallway that Jerome slipped through. "Just down the hall- the bathroom is the door a few feet down from and across from the kitchen."
"Ah! Thank you, dear." He nods, his eyes crinkle in a smile, then goes off the way you pointed.
You sigh, silently. Relieved.
... Okay.
Okay. This might work out alright, for you. You might not die.
So far so good.
Then a BAM! sound comes from the kitchen, causing you to jump basically out of your skin while the Scarecrow doesn't even flinch, before you're off to possibly kill Jerome- depending on what kind of damage he's done to your kitchen. "Jerome!!"
Requests - Hello! Would you do an Ed Nygma x reader you break up with him after he starts going “crazy” with the Riddler. However, Ed gets so distraught over the break up he ends up doing everything to get you back. Thanks!
- Nygma x Reader pleeeeeaassse
Angst
Warning - Kidnapping,
Pairing - Edward Nygma “Riddler” X Reader
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You were the light of his life and everyone knew it. They all knew you two to be the perfect couple. You were the only person that really knew him as Edward Nygma. When you two were together you never got annoyed by his constant riddles nor did you get tired of his overly mature personality. For a while you were hooked on him because you loved him and he was hooked on you because he needed you to survive.
He always swore that he was gonna go crazy without you but it happened anyway. A second version of himself, the other side of him was pestering, manifesting in reflections to talk to him and only him. You began to worry about him as his visions moved on from just in the mirror to standing with him. You had been planning on talking to him about it, then he almost cut you with a knife when he tried to get “the riddler” away from him. That same week you left him with a letter on the desk and your key to the apartment.
Ed, I’m sorry that you have to find out this way. But I need to leave for a while. I don’t know when I’ll be back or if I will but I was too scared to stay, scared of you. You need to get yourself some help Ed, for me. - Y/n
He didn’t take it too well, he couldn’t understand how you could leave him. It didn’t take him long to find your new address and for weeks he found himself keeping tabs on you, too afraid to actually contact you. He knew your entire schedule front to back, when you leave for work, go on your daily run, the days you read out on the porch. Just like clockwork he was there to watch you, trying to work up his plan to get you back to him.
He found out where you started working the next day and sent a letter there for you with a flower. He didn’t dare leave who wrote it and watched that night as you walked into your home and read the letter on your bed. You knew it was from him deep down but didn’t want to really believe it. The way it was structured spelt Edward and all the wordings reminded you of him.
The letters never stopped, getting more deep, more demanding each time. It had taken a steep fall from love to borderline obsession that wanted to pull you back to him. He got more bold as time drew on, he got closer to your home, to your work.
He sent countless letters and flowers to you, still hinting that it was him. There is an entire wall of polaroid pictures of you hung up in his room, all the dates in red ink.
One day he came up with a genius plan to win you back. Or rather he did. One day he found himself in your home, long after you’d left for work. He walked the entire space, looking at pictures, laying in your bed, taking in your scent. He waited for so long, watching for your car to pull up to the house, finally it did.
His heart was going fast in his chest as he awaited for you to enter, hidden from sight. You were just the same as you were when he saw you, hours ago. Under your breath you hummed the lyrics to a song you hear no doubt in the car but he knew it to be your favourite song.
You set your things down in the living room before flicking on the TV. Ed made his move in the form of creeping towards you as you sat on the couch, a white cloth in his hand. The plan ran through his mind over and over and not once did it scream how wrong this is. You freaked out when a hand came around and pressed the clothes to your mouth and nose, knocking you out soon enough.
The next time you opened your eyes you were tied to a chair in your own basement. In front of you stood Ed, a smile on his face as he looks at you. “Y/n.” He says lovingly, tilting his head. “I’m so glad you’re awake. We have so much to talk about.”
Imagine being at Galavan’s with the maniax and playing paintball with the squad in teams:
Barbara with Tabitha; Greenwood, Dobkins, and Aaron together: you with Jerome, and Theo doesn’t play because... he sucks.
You and Jerome work as a great team, allying with Greenwood, Dobkins, and Aaron to trap and take out Tabitha first, making Barbara angry and irrational —an easy target.
Soon, you and Jerome stand victorious. But as soon as he says “we won,” you paintball him in the stomach.
“Actually, *I* won.”
As you walk away you smile back and him and chuckle, “who’s the boss?”
A/N: This isn’t a request, just a little drabble I’ve had in my head for a while. To put a short synopsis on it, you and Victor have a past, and a chance reunion puts things into perspective.
Warnings: A little bit of foul language.
“Shit,” you muttered quietly.
You loosened your grip around the trigger of your gun as you lost your sight on the target.
You sighed deeply and gave up, practically throwing your gun to the side.
Setting your elbows on the ledge, you looked at the concrete jungle around you.
Being up on one of the city’s buildings gave you a beautiful view of Gotham. It’s hard to believe that a place so beautiful during the night could be so utterly dangerous.
You took in a deep breath and closed your eyes, but the familiar feeling of emptiness filled your heart.
Lately, your nights consisted of taking jobs, killing targets, and making money.
This life was one that you had used to enjoy quite thoroughly. But now it was a chore- a routine that only numbed out the screaming momentarily.
There had only been one thing that occupied your mind-
“Your job as an assassin is to stay undercover.”
Speak of the devil.
You quickly spun around at the sound of a familiar voice: a voice belonging to the one person you were trying to forget.
“You’re doing a very poor job at that, (Y/N).”
Victor stood in the middle of the roof, a gun pointed at you.
You tried to swallow down the pain you felt while looking at him, but it was no use. Unfortunately, you knew what had to be done.
You quickly dove behind one of the rooftop units, grabbing your gun in the process.
A couple shots rang out as you did so, bouncing off different areas of the concrete.
“Hiding is going to prove futile. Why don’t you just face the situation? I know you’re stronger than this.”
You groaned lowly at his statement.
“Like you would know anything, Victor!” you spat out. The whole situation had you feeling rather petty.
There was a long moment of silence between you two after this. You continued to cradle your sniper rifle, waiting for the moment that he would jump up beside you. However, the only thing that broke the tension was the sound of police cars getting closer.
“Fucking great,” you muttered.
Someone had clearly reported the gunshots heard just minutes before. You can never be too careful in Gotham apparently.
“You idiot!” you called out from behind your hiding place. “You gave us away!”
You could hear Victor shift around a bit, the familiar sound of leather echoing off of the concrete.
“Maybe that was the point,” he finally responded, causing you to furrow your brows.
“You want to be caught?” you yelled back.
He pulled the trigger on his hand gun again, letting out another loud ‘bang.’
You could hear the sudden commotion down on the streets. Cops were yelling to get off of the roof, and many residents were freaking out too, only adding to the mayhem.
“I don’t want to be caught, (Y/N). You on the other hand should just give up now.”
You could hear his voice getting closer.
You quickly jumped out at him, kicking your leg up high enough to knock the gun out of his hand.
Before you even had time to raise your rifle however, he had a hold on your arm, forcing you to loosen your grip on your weapon.
He swung around and used his foot to kick up on the butt of your gun, knocking it over the unit you were just hiding behind.
“Asshole,” you said lowly.
His grip on your arm tightened as he pulled you to him. You were practically nuzzled up to his chest in this position, the scent of him making your heart ache even more than it already was.
“Feels just like old times, hmm?” he whispered to you.
You looked up into his eyes and saw a slight look of something unfamiliar.
Pain?
You quickly shook off the thought and head-butted him, forcing his grip to loosen enough for you to pull away.
You began to sprint back to the unit, only to feel his hands grasp your ankle, tripping you in the process.
You were suddenly flipped over onto your back, his forearm coming down towards your neck and collarbone. His body hovered over yours as he held you down. You struggled to move but it was useless; he had always been much stronger than you.
“Victor,” you started.
He simply pressed down harder on you, making you release a cough.
You stared up at him, waiting for another type of action to be made. But he just kept looking at you, contemplating something in his head.
You tried once again to speak out.
“If you’re going to kill me, then just do it. You and me both know that I would rather die than turn myself into the GCPD.”
The mentioning of the police made you realize that they were still shouting from below.
“You think that’s what I want... to kill you?” Victor finally asked.
You used this moment of distraction to plant your feet down, raising your hips and rolling over.
Once he was on his back, you ran towards the edge of the rooftop, trying to find your way back down.
You took too long however, and Victor was soon back on you.
He spun you around once again, twisting your back over the edge. You could feel your head hanging as he held onto you, the wind beating against your skin.
In this position, you knew that he had your life in his hands. All he had to do was let go, and your body would quickly fall over the building, killing you instantly.
You let out a frustrated sigh.
“If you don’t want to kill me, then what do you want, Victor? It won’t take long for the police to break down the doors and get up here.”
His eyes widened as he held onto you. The sight of pain you saw earlier in them was noticeable once again. You waited for him to say something.
“It was one thing to lie to me about what you do. But to join forces with the other side? You could have worked for Falcone!” he finally spoke out.
You scoffed at him.
“What, like you would have wanted that? Think about all the things you kept from me, Victor!”
“I wasn’t the one who left!” he shouted loudly.
That was enough to silence you for a moment. The slight disappointment in his voice was evident.
You always thought he didn’t care.
“You never tried to find me after I left,” you responded. Your voice was much softer now than it had been before.
“I didn’t think you wanted me to.”
You made eye contact with him, wondering if all of this was some type of joke.
However, the moment between you two was soon broken at the sound of footsteps beating up the metal stairs. You knew that the final door to the rooftop was locked, but it wouldn’t take long for them to bust it open.
You dragged your gaze down to the streets below. A few feet away, you saw a rusted staircase used for a fire escape.
How had you not noticed it before?
Your sight returned to Victor, and you didn’t hesitate to reach around the back of his neck. You pulled him to you and smashed your lips against his, relishing in the missed feeling of kissing him.
Within a second, you had him twisted over and falling off of the edge of the roof. He soon landed on the flight of metal stairs, his eyes looking back at yours.
“I love you,” you shouted down to him. “You better get going before the police get to you.”
And with that, you disappeared into the night, leaving Victor alone and in love.
How do you ask someone on a date? Don’t ask Victor Zsasz.
MASTERLIST
Requested by anonymous with the prompt “Are we on a date?”
Warnings: Second-hand embarrassment
Something strange was going on.
You were sat in the passenger seat of Victor Zsasz’s car. It was early in the evening, the sunset casting beams of pink and orange light across Gotham City. Apparently, you were on a stakeout. But, why you were there, you had no idea.
It had just been a regular day at the office – which, for you, meant taking stock in the very illegal armoury you worked at. At the loud ring of a bell, you made your way to the counter to find one of your favourite customers: Victor. He was browsing the shelves nonchalantly, examining the vast array of weapons and ammunition on display.
“Good to see you again,” You called, grabbing his attention. He came and stood in front of you, looping his thumbs through his shoulder holsters. “What can I do for you?”
“I need your help.” With anyone else the words would have come with an embarrassed tinge, an ashamed glance away, an irritation at himself. But you were special. Victor trusted you enough to know a request for help wouldn’t change your opinion of him.
“Of course. What with?” You leant your elbows on the counter and smiled at him.
“Just a simple mission. Following a target; it’s always useful to have an extra pair of eyes.” As he explained his fingers tapped against the leather of his holster. You nodded.
“When?”
“Saturday evening.”
“I’ll see you then.”
And so he picked you up from work, Saturday evening, and had driven here. You were sitting in silence, watching an office building. It was deserted. In the hour you’d been there one person had left, and they clearly weren’t the person Victor was after.
“Who are we looking for?” You murmured. He looked at you, almost guiltily, eyes wide and unblinking. Was Victor Zsasz… nervous? You grinned, slightly uncomfortable, but also intrigued, wondering what was going on.
“Well -”
“And don’t lie to me, Victor.”
“There isn’t anyone.”
“Then why am I here?” He shifts in his seat, fingers drumming on the steering wheel. “Victor… Are we on a date right now?” You chuckled, not sure whether you were laughing at the idea of going on a date with Victor or the idea of him not being able to ask you out directly. The look on his face makes you stop.
“What if it was?” Victor – arrogant, cocky, intimidating, badass Victor – was nervous.
“Then I’d say that the date itself isn’t great, but the company makes up for it.” You want to be tactful. You can’t say you never imagined something like this with Victor. He was mysterious, dangerous, intriguing. But, you couldn’t lie – sitting in a car in awkward silence under false pretences was not your ideal first date.
“Then how would you suggest we improve it?” You don’t respond, waiting until he looks at you, before you smile.
“Let’s go get a drink.” You grabbed your bag and stepped out of the car.
“Wait, now?” He leaned across the centre console to look at you.
“Right now.” You began to walk down the street, glad to hear the slam of a car door behind you and the sound of Victor’s feet on the sidewalk behind you.
Hi! Could I get a drabble from Gotham + prompt 77? She/her pronouns. I have brown hair and green eyes and am very short (5feet). I’m a straight Slytherin and an intp. I’m an ambivert. I’m polite and distanced with people I don’t know and very warm, loyal and helpful with those I like. With those I don’t like I’m cold, manipulative and very unemotional. I’m fierce and determined regarding my goals and very sarcastic, stubborn + a good problem solver. I like reading, writing and love doing sports
Characters: Reader x Edward Nygma
Warnings: —
Prompt: 77. “You’re the only good thing that’s ever happened to me.”
Word Count: 396
A/N: for a split second i debated bruce wayne and jerome valeska (which feels like opposite sides of the spectrum) but then i decided to go with ed!!! i hope u like it!!
NOT TAKING ANYMORE REQUESTS!
Ed weaves his way in and out of the desks as he makes his way out of the precinct. It’s quiet, with the exception of the unlucky few who are running the night shift at the precinct. Ed raises his eyebrows as he notices you hunched over your desk, glancing over what looks like evidence scattered all over your desk. He pauses, his heart hammering in his chest before he approaches you, greeting, “Got anything interesting going on here?”
You look up, grinning as you meet Ed’s gaze. “Just working on a case. I figured if I’m going to be stuck here tonight, I might as well spend my time doing something productive.”
“Any good leads?” Ed asks, and you lean up against your desk, scanning over bits and pieces of paper, scraps you managed to pull from the crime scene. Ed peers over your shoulder, examining the scrawled handwriting, before you shake your head.
“Nothing yet,” you let out a defeated sigh, looking back up at him. “I think it might be a riddle of some sort, some kind of puzzle, but I’m still trying to figure it out.”
Ed’s eyes practically shine as he can barely contain his ecstatic smile. “A riddle? Well, I could help with that.”
You watch as Ed puts his bag down, draping his coat over the back of his chair as he rolls up the sleeves of his blazer. You quickly stop him, placing a gentle hand on his arm, and Ed’s cheeks flush ever so slightly at your touch. He glances at you, and you tell him, “Oh, Ed, you don’t have to. You should go home. You’ve had a long day. I wouldn’t want to keep you any longer—”
Ed readjusts his glasses, still blushing at the feeling of your fingers on his arm. He offers you a smile, before replying, “I want to help, trust me.”
You study his expression, before a grateful smile lights up your face. “You’re the best, seriously. Sometimes I think you’re the only good thing that’s ever happened to me.”
Ed’s eyes widen in surprise, and he quickly looks away, biting back his growing smile as you move closer to him. And as the both of you look over your evidence, shoulders brushing as you lean in ever so slightly, Ed can’t think of a better way to spend his night.
Prompts: #8 “This is my big day and you’re ruining it!” + #16 “Well, I’ll be goddamned.”
Requested
—YOU SUCKED IN your breath as you hid behind a mirror. This night was chaotic and not even surprising. But Jerome was back. He was back, with a stapled face and a plan.
“You ruined my show, y/n.” Jerome snarls, gun pointing cautiously at every reflection.
“There are bigger things that you ruined yourself,” he hears your voice from every direction he couldn’t lay his attention on. “You ruined the city. You ruined so many lives.”
“Yeah? Well this is my big day and you’re ruining it!” Jerome screams, shooting the gun and causing a mirror to shatter. The glass falls to pieces, before Jerome finding you standing behind it that miraculously didn’t manage to hit you.
You stood proudly, hungry for a fight, and a gun you had in your own hands, pointing straight at his head.
“Well, I’ll be goddamned.” Jerome smirked through his cut-off-stapled-face. And he lunges for cover.
