#jerome oneshot

[driftkinnie]

drawing background characters using random number generator + defending the mall and @mireofthemoor ‘s toppat charles 😊😊

[maweallgotohell]

OKAY NO WAIT

I was reading fanfiction a few minutes ago, right? And it was about halloween costumes. Well, Cameron in halloween costumes.

AND DO YOU KNOW WHAT JUST RANDOMLY CAME TO MY MIND?!?!

okok y’all aren’t ready for this scenario-

Imagine it being Halloween and yn and Cam are going to go to a Halloween party of one of their friends. He knew what costume you’d choose, because you loved it so much, you couldn’t shut up about it. He, however, kept his costume choice a secret. You were lowkey scared he’d come up with something either incredibly scary, weird or stupid but it was

so.

much.

worse.

Or better, in your case.

After a few years of you and him being in a relationship, you randomly told him, that you had an immense crush on his character Jerome Valeska when you were 17. You were a few years younger than him. He was 30 now and you were 25. So when he was 22, you were 17, which was when they released the second season of Gotham. (This shit took all my math knowledge omfg)

You two laughed about it together. Cameron was a bit surprised that you randomly shared your teenage crushes with him, but he found it cute and funny.

So anyways.

It was the evening of the party and you already waited for him in the kitchen, already wearing your (fav costume) costume.

Cam‘s costume must’ve been very time-, skill- and effort-consuming, because he had called someone he once worked with, to help him with it. By the time you were really curious about his costume. Why did he make it such a secret?

You didn’t want to be late, so you knocked on the bathroom door and called:“ Cam, darling, are you ready soon? We’re gonna be late.“

„Yeah, yeah, just a sec, hun!“, he answered from the other side of the door, giggling like a little child.

What the hell was up with him? His costume must be really great.

You went back down the stairs and waited for him at the bottom of the staircase.

After a few minutes, you heard the bathroom door creak open upstairs and him giggling. As he came downstairs you turned around and-

You couldn’t believe your eyes.

Were you dreaming?

Wth was happening.

In front of you stood your boyfriend.

As Jerome mf Valeska.

You stopped breathing for a bit and felt like passing out any second. All those butterflies you felt for the character in your teens-

They were back.

„You like it?“, Cam smirked.

You just stared at him.

Then you just broke out into loud laughter.

„Wtf Cam HAHAHAH WHAT IS THIS“

You had to grab onto your thighs for support while wheezing and laughing.

„I thought, for this Halloween, I’d go as your teenage crush.“, he joined in on your laughter.

„I can’t take this Cam omfg. It’s so weird. I can’t take you seriously with this, you know that right?“

„Nah, I think you’re just even more in love with me right now.“, he grinned proudly.

„Yeah true.“

„Sooo“, he asked, a mischievous smirk on his face.

„ You still in love with lil ol‘ me?“, he asked in his deep Jerome voice.

Your face dropped.

„There is no way you can still do that.“, you said, blushing like mad.

He began laughing again.

„ Guess your crush on him is still there.“, he grinned.

„Yeah I guess the fictional crushes of teenage girls will never leave them.“, you said, a hand now over your mouth, still in shock.

„ Then let’s make little Yn‘s teenage dream come true and let her spend an evening with her bad boyfriend, Jerome Valeska.“, he grinned, placing an arm around your hip as he started guiding you towards the front door to leave.

„You know I’ll not be able to process this the whole evening, right?“, you asked, still a bit in shock.

„Yep.“, he grinned happily.

„Maybe my hot gf will be all over me even more the whole evening.“, he said, leaning down towards your ear, then whispering.

„ You look very hot btw hun. Gotta make sure to not let my feelings take over and take you home again just so I can have you all to myself, huh?“, he smirked.

You blushed. Yn exe literally stopped working.

You had literally the best boyfriend, Cameron Monaghan, who was also Jerome Valeska today..

Wtf.

„I love you so much Cameron, you know that?“

He smiled at you.

„ If you want you could even call me Jerome or J today.“, he smirked.

„But yeah, I know that. I love you too. And I love you more.“, he smiled proudly.

„But just don’t fall for Jerome more than for me, alright?“, he asked jokingly.

„No can do.“, you laughed at him as he poked your sides and started to tickle you as a response to your sassy answer.

—————

At the party, you two leaned on the bar waiting for your drinks. Well basically he leaned with his back against the bar and you leaned with your back against his hard chest, him having his arms around you. He put his head onto your shoulder and let out a sigh, making you shoot him a questioning look.

Then he raised his voice in the Jerome tone.

„It just feels good to be back.“

You giggled.

„Just don’t start killing people for real okay?“

„Why not? I wouldn’t harm you of course, doll. You’re the Bonnie to my Clyde.“, he murmured in your ear in that raspy voice.

You laughed.

„Hell yeah I am.“

You took his hand in yours and placed a soft kiss on its back.

„And nothing’s gonna change that.“, you added, now turning your head to the side and giving him a kiss on the cheek. He smiled, turned his head in your direction as well and kissed you on your lips, soft and gentle, the sfx make up on his lips feeling funny but also kinda real, which was astonishing.

As you pulled back, you examined every inch of his scarred face. Then you absentmindedly traced the scar where his face was „sewn on again“.

This was literally the most romntic thing Cam could’ve ever done for you and you didn’t even think about it earlier. That he could dress as Jerome.

There was a moment of silence as you two looked at each other.

„ I love you.“, you said. It was the most genuine and honest tone of yours.

„ Just please don’t get stabbed in the neck again or fall off a building. I can’t handle that shit again 8 years later. Hurt bad enough at 17.“, you smirked, rolling your eyes.

He chuckled.

„ I promise.“, he said in a playful way, but then his expression turned serious.

„I could never leave you YN, really. I love you.“

——————-

You two had an amazing evening.

BROOO IMAGINE-

Guys it’s 4:22 am and I’m sick so I really don’t give a fuck about any mistakes in this. That’s also why there aren’t any cute symbols or pictures for the aesthetic, I’m literally writing this on my phone rn. So I’ll fix that and correct them later, okay?

Thanks

Love ya <3

Bye

[starshipsofstarlord]

House of Crazy | Jerome Valeska

Warnings; mentions of death/ murder, threats, crime

Theo bowed his head down as his maniac eyes stared into your eyes, attempting to intimidate you. But that wouldn’t work, it never did, you’d have thought he’d have grown wise to this now. He only came here when he wanted something, all you had to do was await for him to reveal what that was.

“The Maniacs.” At the name, you began chewing your gum, unbothered by the title as you sat behind your desk. It was the same old, psychos on the loose in Gotham. “And I want you to write an article on them, showcasing how threatening they really are to the society.”

“Your band of idiots are already feared Galavan, they don’t need any more press. They’re already on the news, surely that’s more ideal than appearing in a paper.” At the quirk of your brow, Theo gave an airy chuckle, as though he was humoured by your perspective.

“Miss (Y/L/N), I don’t think you understand how this works.” It was no secret to you that the politician was rotten, there weren’t many men in positions of power that weren’t corrupt in some way. The only one that had denied any illegal terms was the detective, Jim Gordon. He was a good apple, almost too good for what the streets of Gotham deserved. “The roles are, I tell you what to do, and I won’t get Tabitha to shoot you in the head.”

It was a threat, however it didn’t make you tremble in the slightest. This wasn’t the first instance in which he came here and threatened you, but your new employer would not have taken kindly to his raging behaviour. Not everyone got what they want, and this mentally disarmed man had to realise that.

“Look man, I don’t work for you. Falcone is my boss, and I’ll give him a call, see what he says about me writing a segment. But I’m not making any promises, and if that is a problem for you, Victor can be here in a minute to ensure you keep your hands to yourself.” Giving a bite to the end of the pen that was in your hand, Theo huffed out his nose, clearly unhappy that this time he didn’t hold the upper hand.

“Fine.” He eventually agreed, tugging at his tie as he impatiently waited for you to pick up the phone. This was a way to spread their wrath, through the beautifully crafted words of (Y/N) (Y/L/N) in the Gotham Gazette. His plans always worked, this one must. If not, and you could see it in his expression too, he would perform a tantrum. And that was something that nobody wanted.

The day had come to go to the secret criminal’s apartment, Falcone had gave her the all clear, deciding to up her salary after making a joke about Greenberg taking a bite out of her flesh. And so Theo called a meeting in the dining area, requesting each of their attention.

He himself was distracted, Barbara kept giving him sultry eyes. Her cause of action was to distract him, to overpower him with her sexuality. It was no secret that the woman that murdered her parents had control issues, she was a freak for it. But that said, all of the convicts in this room were freaks. Madmen who obeyed him in exchange for their freedom and his protection. It was a win win, and would be a much larger one once you had written your account and published it in the newspaper.

Walking into the space, you felt all of the crazed eyes on you. Some pairs were analysing how you stood, what your weaknesses were and how to use them against you. Others, particularly male ones, but not all, were inspecting each dip and dive in your body, thinking about how sweet you’d taste of the bones.

However one of those sets of eyes were a memorable emerald, they belonged to the redhead, Jerome Valeska. You had heard about how he had killed his mother, brutally, for the nonstop whining, shagging and beating, you had even wrote a small piece accounting the crime. At the time, you had felt a tad of sympathy for the boy, understanding that he must have gone through a difficult start. But you didn’t deposit all of your pity onto him, murderers would only use that against you to make you their next victim. It was common logic.

“This is (Y/N), she works for the Gotham Gazette, she is here today to collect information that can be used to help your reputation. I am trusting none of you to kill her, she is our guest, and an ally if we can prove that we will be good for her business.” Theo’s hand came to rest on your shoulder which you kept relaxed. Your reflexes wanted to tense and brush his grip off, but you refrained from doing so. It would not be wise to show that you were uncomfortable, it was duty to pretend that you weren’t affected by the contact or scouring eyes.

Holding your head high, your sight caught a glance at the redhead, who wore a grimace that assumingly was supposed to be a smile. He was different from the rest, not only by age, but by his mental capacity. It was visible that he had sustained childhood trauma, and that he thought that every adult, not only the ones in this room, misunderstood his vision. He was a fanatic, he could monitor a ticking clock and care no less if it was the timing remaining on a bomb. The world was a cog, the maniacs, whether it be the ones that he was forced to reside with, or ones that followed him on the street, were the ones that tipped the scales and controlled the workings of the machine.

“Do we have any takers to go first?” At Theo’s enquiry, three hands shot up into the air, clearly desperate for recognised attention. The first was well manicured and struck, belonging to the blonde woman with a crooked yet alluring smile. A gap parted her front two teeth, it was as though from her menacing look of interest, she wanted to sink them into you, however not to devour your flesh which was the reasoning behind Greenberg’s raised arm, but to devour you sexually. That thought sent a stinging shiver up your spine, wanting to delay your time alone with her for as long as humanly possible. She was a killer, hell they all were, but her face presented it to be too sinister for your likening.

As said, Greenberg had his grubby palm upheld towards the spotless ceiling of the Galavans’ penthouse. His chubby fingers wiggled in a crude wave as he caught your unsettled glance reach him, as though he was attempting to hide the hungry monster inside of his body with a faux politeness. It was a part of Gotham knowledge to be aware of his crimes, somehow magnetising the interest of women and biting chunks of meat from off of their bones. He weighed no regret for his appetite, if anything, the time he was exiled into Arkham, the more he happened to crave the supplements of his cannibalistic diet, desiring the blood from within the feminine bodies to run delightedly through his lips. His carnal habits were beyond unnerving, reinforcing your preference to stay comfortably away from the beast.

Last was the handsome redhead, whose body was lounged carelessly atop of the furniture, his face perceiving boredom, his eyes interpreting a newfound curiosity. Jerome Valeska, the boy who killed his nagging, abusive, circus freak of a mother. There was nothing particularly special about his act of violence, mothers of unstable children had their lives ended all the time, however a legacy of potential had surfaced from his first stolen life. He was performer, a man to reckon the stage with his maniacal antics, to force the crowd to applaud him in the wake of his deadly tricks. A cog, he would turn the tables for the future, succumbing Gotham into madness, revealing his vision to those who thought of him as nothing above the average criminal. For some unknow purpose, his exterior drew your intrigue in; you wished to map out the insides of his impulsive brain, understand his methods, fornicate from the wisdom that his revelations gifted you. There was a lesson that you could learn from the convicted clown, you weren’t sure what it was, but his motive made you believe that he could open your eyes. To the truth, to his reality.

“I’ll take the Joker.” That nickname spiralled to your head, it was possible to imagine him with a stretched Chelsea grin and whitened face, the thought made the corners of your lips upturn in the slightest movement. It was hardly noticeable, but no matter, Jerome’s all seeing eyes caught the flicker of amusement.

The grin that you imagined sprawled upon his lips at the name, clearly recognising that it was he that you were describing. His cheeks must have hurt from the harsh usage of the muscles in his face, but he cared nought. He was just pleased, as the showman of the terrible crowd, that he was the first choice, he was the boss. Finally, someone from the outside could see it, as though they were a prophet of the insane, having categorised all three from least threatening to most.

“Very well.” Theo replied, holding no issue against (Y/N) using Jerome as a object in the public’s eye, he was doing the exact same thing to the boy. And soon enough, the benefits of the boy would be reaped to a complete end, he may as well be getting other advantages before that heroic time came to.

Jerome was quick to let out a laugh in the face of Greenberg, who snarled at the resident comedian. (Y/N) was hardly surprised by his actions, until he walked by her dragging her by the hand through the apartment, abandoning his groupies and the man that had him extracted from the asylum. “Good luck.” Theo bid her, visibly understanding why he had earnt no reply. She was swept away, literally, by the GCPD’s most wanted, there was hardly a second of breath that she had to catch.

The feeling of Jerome’s hand guided upon her own made (Y/N) flinch, it had sent an exhilarating spark through her palm that transcended through the rest of her body. She wasn’t sure whether she liked the feeling or not, but alas she had no choice to disconnect from him, his grip was iron like, it felt as though he would never let her go. A part of her resented that idea, but she was here for a job, not to let loose and become infatuated with a sociopath.

“This is my room, make yourself comfortable.” He released her from his clasp, shutting the door behind (Y/N) as she walked suspiciously into the murderer’s confines. It was fairly an ordinary box, there was a katana thrown discarded on the floor, open with its silver side shining up at the ceiling, but that was it. The sight was kind of disappointing, she had expected more life to be within the walls, like a body or such.

Shaking away the cycle of her imagination, (Y/N) sat in the desk chair, whereas Jerome dived onto the bed as though he were a child. It was such an infant like act, but it showed that he was in tune with his inner self, he hadn’t let his wretched hag of a mother force him to grow out of his temper tantrums and amusement.

(Y/N) pulled a notepad from the inner pocket of her coat, holding it upon her knee as she awaited Jerome to situate himself. He stared back at her, taken aback from the beauty that Theo had brought to his abode. She almost had him drooling at her feet, but if he were to do so, she would have to prove herself, prove that she wasn’t the average woman that walked the streets at night with a can of pepper spray.

“How do you feel now that you are no longer in Arkham?” It had the reputation of being a madhouse, even the staff weren’t sane. They were either corrupt or crazy, it hardly seemed like a coincidence that such men and women were hired to monitor the life behind the bars.

Jerome didn’t take long to answer, it was an easy question. “Like the machine continues to turn, my purpose is returned, I am restored to the streets to cause a wreaking of havoc, no one is capable of putting an end to my legacy.” He was quick to jump back into conversation as he himself wanted to enquire about the maiden before him, he had his own stack of questions that were piling up to the ceiling. He’d go insane if they weren’t answered, although he digressed himself as the epidemy of sanity itself. “Now tell me, how did such a lunatic end up working for a newspaper?”

At his return in discussion, the woman’s eyes widened, as though she had been caught in a crime. That had never happened, being caught she meant. “I’m afraid that question is invalid, I wouldn’t consider myself anything but normal. An average muck in the mud, a critic to the public eye, for which I only am for payment.”

“She’s a liar as well, how intriguing.” Jerome’s cheek came to rest on his fist as he stared amorously at the woman. “I thought you were nothing more than a thief and a killer. There was a story that reached my ears, whilst I was in Arkham, regarding an employee of Don Falcone. She had a cover, a job to pass the time, but during the night, she had hobbies. Ones that Jimbo Gordon wouldn’t approve, she studies the crimes of other villains, upstaging them remotely. She perfects their crimes, there is no fault in her method, only perfection and precision. You look quite like a perfectionist to me…”

Air had left (Y/N)’s lungs, as she sat entranced by Jerome’s tale of tongue. He had heard of her doings, she was criminally famous, a figure of excellence and preciseness to those behind bars. And if they knew, it would be no difficulty for her boss to be aware of her free time activities, and he still hadn’t fired her or thought of casting her into the hands of the authorities. That must have meant that Falcone held some respect for her extraction of crimes, and their committed corrections. This left so many thoughts, a publishing of possibilities at her type writing fingertips. She had already made an introduction to the underworld of wanted men and women, there was more that she could accomplish. Perhaps she could tidy up her own personal doings, fixing every tiny detail that she thought could have improvements.

“It’s an art.” Was the simplest connotation that she could give the arising villain. “Nothing can’t be improved, if my mother was still breathing on this planet, I’d have the opportunity of defying everything that got you here, but better of course.” A sprawl of amusement crossed Jerome’s face at his victory, proud that she would even consider such a terrible act so openly; she was as crazy as him, however she’d kept it contained for the public eye, holding a cover over her face so that nobody would suspect her of being a professional at the conflicts against the law. “That’s sort of my signature, but you already knew that. And whatever Gallavan has planned, well, I’ll eventually upstage that too, causing him obscene jealousy and self-hatred for how he could have done so much better.”

“You’re not planning on recreating an act out of Greenberg’s book, are you?” It would be a delight to listen to (Y/N) refuse the idea, and from the quirk of her hitched eyebrow, he realised that he was right. That wasn’t the way that she swam through the tides of crimes, she’d select some that she saw promise in, rather than picking one that lacked logic, and was spurred by a fetish of hunger. At his humorous words, (Y/N) belted out a laugh of bellowing insanity, Jerome thought it was the most attractive thing that he had ever heard. Her job was dismissed as her pen and pad tumbled from her lap and unto the pristine carpet, long forgotten, and neither of the older teenagers could have cared less, not even if the ink spilled on to the material and Theo threatened to have their heads delivered to the GCPD to pay the bill.

“God no!” Her hand clapped down upon the meat of her thigh, noises of amusement still escaping her mouth and nostrils. “That buffoon thinks that he’s all that, in reality however he is no better than a lowlife going to extremes to feed himself. His hunger isn’t insatiable like ours, there’s nothing that interest me in that disgusting cockroach, he’s not unique. If anything he misses some lacquer to the routine in which he presents himself, he thinks he’s the boss, but each media that has captured his intentions can quite clearly see that he’s not the boss. You and I both know who takes that role in dominant position.”

Leaning forward, Jerome planted his pale hands upon her thighs, pulling her in less distance towards his face. His breath fanned across her lips, she could feel the tingle that was making her wanting to press their lips together in a collision, however she remained aboded, still as a statue as she allowed the suitor in crazy speak his mint breathed mind.

“Me.” At his simple, yet effective admittance, (Y/N) reached up, twirling the loose strands of his eye catching hair around her index finger. It was softer than she thought it would be, like silk between the curl of her skin. “I’m the boss.”

“You should remind Galavan of that sweetie, I agree with you. But that man is not to be trusted, he’s a shrew, hiding under a rock that is your little squad. His intentions are never clear, they’re not visions, potential and well adorned visions that you have J.” He liked the name that (Y/N) had dubbed his persona, it was simple yet memorable. She was unusually alluring, perhaps it was because she saw the possibilities that rendered his mind into a haze of a night, or because of her attractiveness. He wasn’t sure himself, but he was not complaining in any way or right, she was unique, her eyes weren’t blocked by the visor of the common perception of normality.

“On one condition.” It was a compromise that he was proposing, a revolutionary, incombustible idea that would benefit them both. (Y/N) hummed as she let her hands slide down his face, teasingly tracing his jaw with the lines of her fingers, until her held them tightly in his grasp, bringing her entire focus onto his intentionally forceful dialogue. “I will be the only one mentioned by name in your article, it will be about me, am I understood?”

“Crystal.” A smirk crept over (Y/N)’s face, completely and utterly okay with his structure to an independent reign in Gotham. It needed control, it needed somebody to open its misty eyes to the reality that it was evading. Everyone had a bit of madness looming behind their overall frontage disguises, and all would be revealed in time. Their true selves would shine through the eye opening light, until a dark night decided to crash the parade and cover the sky once more, protecting it from any farther eclipses.

As she began to raise her body to be standing, Jerome trailed his calloused, circus working, elephant dung picking hands up the expanse of her legs. They felt like rolls of silk under his fingertips, a material so fine and able to make disguises so divine. She ignited a keen interest from the young man, and so he stood beside her, clamping his hand upon her hard as steel hip, as though to refrain her from abandoning him.

“Where are you intending on going?” His tone sled seduction towards her, and so (Y/N) grabbed it with his teeth, or more so the lobe of his alabaster ear shell, blowing cool air upon the flesh once she pulled away. There was something sinister about the flash of mischief that was upon the writer’s face, but it was a gift, a beauty to behold.

“I’ve got an article to put together about a sociopath with mummy issues, so if you don’t mind...” A wink sent her on her way, no longer was she plodding in fear through the halls, confidence was apparent in her stride, and it left Jerome wanting a taste of it.

She was crazy, and he loved that, because they matched to all the extents. Nothing would hold them back from ruling the cold and dreary streets of Gotham, they’d manage it, it was to be a fact rather than just a dream of a couple of simpletons.

[gotham-city-tales-blog]

Jerome Imagine: “Retirement Plan”

Prompt: “Can you write an imagine where the reader is pregnant and afraid to tell Jerome because she doesn't want to tie him down and so she starts avoiding him, thinking he wouldn't care” -by Anon

Summary: I kind of strayed buuuuut I’d like to think it’s cute. The reader is pregnant and thinks she has to leave Jerome for obvious reasons but the message is intercepted by Jeremiah who is after Jerome.

M A S T E R L I S T

This is my first shot at writing in like a year so I am very sorry it this is a little rusty ad not my best! and as a disclaimer: any messages about his being “unrealistic” will be deleted. these are characters. and i’m my writing i will manipulate them as please for a story. i understand that maybe my taste isn’t yours but then another writer may be just in your lane. i am a fluffy writer and will never write something with abuse or a horrible ending-life is depressing enough.

SPOILERS: If you don’t know who Jeremiah is you probably don’t want to read this.

Bruce Wayne fought everyday for a better tomorrow in Gotham. Selina fought to empower the systematically powerless. James Gordon wanted a city which was civilized and just. Lee only wanted to help the people. Bullock was bored but fought for his friends.

Even the worst of the worst needed a reason to live. They fought everyday too-just for different things. For The Riddler, he wanted to remain unforgotten, never again in the shadows as Ed Nygma existed. Barbara Kean, to prove her depths of her strength and never be helpless at the mercy of others again. For Penguin, to be love by a kingdom he has created. 

Jerome had one too-not that anyone knew it. 

You’d asked many times, feigning curiosity. But you knew deep down that you just wanted to hear it was you. Unreasonable as it may be, you wanted to be Jerome’s reason. Looking back on it now you knew it was selfish and a childish take on real love. Jerome wasn’t your reason for waking up and living everyday. As he shouldn’t be. You loved him more than anything or anyone, but you fought for yourself. Created your own life, your own path and your own strength. You lived everyday because you owed it to yourself to create a life and a purpose. And now, in your older age, that’s all you ever really wanted for Jerome too-because that’s what you want for the people you love. But you were younger then, naive and a bit egotistical-all normal for someone in their early 20′s. If only you knew what you know now. 

He always said he wasn’t sure what drove him or joked that it was a part of his madness. 

You knew he was lying though.

22 was a tender age. You were working part time at a small food store and spending the other working time in classes. Technically you were an adult. You paid rent by yourself. Filed your taxes and had a savings account. But that didn’t mean you were ready to be a mom.

You missed your period and were irresponsible enough to have spontaneous unprotected sex with your boyfriend. You went to the doctor and they told you that you were indeed pregnant.

When those words fell from the nurse’s lips you were actually excited. You had always wanted children and were in a loving, albeit strange, relationship with someone who thought the world of you. Jerome was the person you wanted to spend your life with and have a family with. But despite your own desires and a year long relationship, you an Jerome never really talked about having a family and kids. It certainly wasn’t the time. 

Jerome was mad. He was insane. He was apathetic and controlling. But with you.. well... he was normal. A normal 24 year old. He’d sneak away to your apartment and bring you flowers that he paid for. He’d watch movies with you and hold your hand. The only trace of insanity were his scars. 

To you it was insanity. But to him it was sanity. 

Jerome loved having a person that remained in his life. He reveled in the continuity of your stability. When he was with the others like him and doing the unspeakable things they did, no one saw Jerome. They saw a villain, a criminal, a killer. You brought a light to his life and a relaxation.

Never before would he just sit own and watch a movie or go to the small park by the water’s edge. Before he was always on the run. Making narrow escapes and looking over his shoulder. When he started seeing you it was usually once a month in passing, quick conversations. Eventually he realized he was excited about seeing you so he started meeting you at the park an then once at your place. That was when he realized you were stupidly trusting.

But he loved you for it. You made him forget about the bad in the world. You made him feel safe and happy, you made him feel at home.

Lately he started feeling even stranger things.

He didn’t want to die during some escapade. He wanted to impress you. He wanted to come home to you and go for walks and fall asleep with you an wake up next to you. He wanted you to be his home.

He didn’t want a kingdom. He wanted you.

But now you were here. 

After a long and frigid walk home from the clinic, you silently heated up a microwave meal. The television was on but it was mute. Everything seemed too loud, too bright. 

Jerome may come home to you more nights than not but that didn’t mean he wanted a baby. You never even talked about marriage as a concept, let alone having children. He was a creature of the night, born out of chaos. There was no place in his life for a child and you knew that meant there would be no place for you.

It was time to release Jerome of this burden before it had a chance to fall on his shoulders. You wouldn’t ask him to give up his nature and livelihood, all he’s ever know, to raise a baby with you. 

You felt trapped. You stared at your keyboard for what felt like seconds but the minutes were passing. How could you say this? How could you write it when you couldn't even say it... 

The keyboard looked as though the letters were in Mandarin. Your fingers were shaking and your mind was numb. Feeling exhausted and exasperated, your breaths were shaky just like your hands. Hovering above the keys, you just couldn’t find the words.

The emotions an desires and wants and fears were all so crystal clear at the forefront of your mind, flooding you with an overwhelming warmth and love but the fears and loneliness were crashing in too. You finally knew what you wanted to say-but there was no real way to say it. 

You still don’t really remember the trip to his then residence, a vacated and foreclosed apartment in the Narrows, just that you felt nothing but a great sadness. The cab ride home is similarly hazy but you remember a deep seeded  relief that cushioned the blow of your feeling of loss. 

The time in between was filled with clumsy venturing and fumbling as you told the cab driver to keep the meter and the engine running. Under a broken rail, through a wedged door and under a tarp, you then climbed to the second floor and walked passed the abandoned domains. Dusty doors and damp carpets lined the halls-Jerome was in 2D, the fourth one down. 

The molding rugs squished beneath your shoes as you quickly ran towards the door, slipped the note under and ran back to the waiting taxi.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t Jerome on the other side of the busted door, but Jeremiah.  

After two years of tracking him through his escapades and newspaper clippings alongside some gossip from low level informants, Jeremiah finally found where Jerome was living. He knew he would never be safe as long as Jerome was alive. It didn’t make sense to him that Jerome never came back after him years after their first adult encounter. 

He was sitting quietly on a pile of clothes. There was no furniture aside from a lone chair which seemed as though his weight would make it buckle. So he opted for the cushioning of the ratty clothes and started at just four walls whose siding was peeling and a window which was wedged open. All of the sudden there was a quiet swoosh and a letter slid under the door. No one knocked and nothing followed so Jeremiah stood and went to the letter. It was just a paper folded in three with Jerome’s name.

Curiosity bubbling over, Jeremiah read the letter. 

When he did he nearly fell over. Not only has his horrible brother had a willing girlfriend but... she was pregnant? And Jerome was the father.

Jeremiah had about three hours to process this earth shattering news and plan for when Jerome walked through the door. He used every second of those three hours. He thought about how Jerome must be manipulating you and that the baby must be cursed. Jeremiah sunk deeper and deeper into his rabbit hole thoughts: he wanted to kill you-and your baby. How could you spawn with someone like Jerome? He hated you already. 

He was shaken from his pool of thoughts by a rattling from the fire escape.

Of course Jerome wouldn’t use the door.

Jeremiah slid behind a piece of siding that was separating from the wall and wielded a knife in front of his face. 

Jerome’s criminal experience became apparent in his match against his brother. Within moments of his clumsy entrance through the open window he had spotted his meager twin. It took less than a minute for Jerome to both subdue his brother by bounding him to the rickety chair and take control of the carving knife.

Stepping back from his handy work, Jerome looked at Jeremiah tied to the chair. His has were secured behind him and his legs both bound to the old legs of the chair. “So to what do I owe this pleasure?” Jerome cackled.

“We need to talk.” Jeremiah deadpanned as he pulled at his ties.

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Jerome smiled wide and turned with his back facing his brother. “I’ve been busy but planned on taking care of your prying rodent self in the future, but...”

He swiveled around on his heel and peered into Jeremiah’s eyes. “I never would have imagined you’d be stupid enough to walk right in front of my gun-or knife or whatever, you get the picture.” He chuckled. 

“Kill me and your girlfriend is dead.” Jeremiah spat. He may not have been criminally insane but he could be cunning. “Did you really think I’d come here alone? If I don’t walk out of here in 20 minutes one of my men who is sitting on her apartment will take care of her.” He spoke quietly but with conviction, silently thanking the universe for that unexpected bit of leverage. 

Jerome looked at his twin through narrow eyes, “Touch her and I swear I will burn down everything and everyone you’ve ever come into contact with.” He growled.

“I’m not sure what she sees in you,” he sneered. “You’re a complete lunatic, you killed our mother and our father and now you’re going to kill your brother. No wonder she’s leaving you.”

“Your tricks won’t work on me.” Jerome barked in response. “There’s no way you’ve met her, you probably on’t even have anyone at her apartment. Who would work for a geeky little freak like you?” He hollered. 

“It’s true. Read the note,” He nodded toward the pile of clothes, “Over there.” 

Jerome leaped toward the note and scrambled to read what you’d said.

He was unreadable, a solid poker face as he stared at the type written note. You told him you loved him that you didn’t want to take away from his life. You were leaving to give him the freedom he loved. You didn’t want him to hate you. There was so much in only 7 sentences.

He quietly turned toward his brother and ripped up the note. A large smile graced his face as and he sprinkled the note at his face. 

“It will be resolved.” Jerome spoke slowly and surely. 

“Sure,” Jeremiah scoffed, “she’s leaving you Jerome. You’re a psychopath! She wants to protect her baby from you.” He spat. 

Jerome leaped towards his subdued brother and pulled the knife up and to his throat. “Don’t you dare.” He growled lowly. “I love her and will love that baby. I’m the one that keeps her safe! She used to live in the Narrows! Do you know the people that hang around there? I saw her, we used to cross paths before she finally moved uptown!” He was screaming in his brother’s face now. “Men watching her, leering at here! One of them tried to follow her and I pulled him off! I made it go away! I KEPT HER SAFE!”

“By what? Killing people? Killing him? Did you follow her that night? Tell her you were a hero then fuck her in the stairwell-” 

Jerome’s hand clamped around Jeremiah’s throat with such force the chair rocked backwards.

“I didn’t talk to her until three months after that.” Jerome whispered hoarsely, grip still tight on Jeremiah’s neck. “I respect her, she’s strong and kind. That man wanted to hurt her and would have. Maybe I’ve hurt the wrong people, but he was the right one. He was going to hurt her. If not that night, the next.” He released Jeremiah’s throat and leaned back slightly.

“Well fine, he was scum but you’re about to kill your last remaining relative. You know she’d hate you so you won’t tell her. There’s no way she could possibly love you for the real you.” Jeremiah was grasping at straws now, desperate to live, realizing he had pushed the wrong buttons. He may be cunning and manipulative but Jerome was unhinged, his tactics wouldn’t work on such an abstract mind. 

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Jerome laughed. But it was a genuine laugh. “She does know me, all of me and she sees passed it and believes in my potential and ability-she sees me for who I am.” He leaned back into Jeremiah’s face. “Now,” he paused, “don’t be so rash brother!” Jerome laughed, flicking his knife upward. “I must celebrate! You just delivered the greatest news of my life!” He cackled as he pushed his tied up brother back and onto the floor. “I created a family.” He spoke as he stood over Jeremiah's body. 

“I got a woman who’s making an honest man-I’m sorry, father-,” he winked, “outta me. It’s your dream come true.” 

Jerome knelt down and pulled his brother’s head towards his own but the short tufts of hair that sat atop his skull. “I’m gonna be a better father than anyone. And her? Shes gonna be the best mom, I know it. Shes caring and understanding.” He tightened his grip and his brother winced as Jerome’s hot breaths raped his cheeks. “She can love a psycho like me, and care for me-she’ll be the best damned mom I’ve ever seen. Our mother was a drunken whore who beat us for shits and giggles.” Jerome growled as he dropped the knife and placed both hands around Jeremiah's throat. 

“But [Y/N]? Never.” His grip subconsciously loosened. “She’s light and strong and beautiful and loving. And she wants me.” Just barely gripping Jeremiah's throat he raised his brother’s ear towards his lips, “And that is very lucky for you dear brother,” he whispered closely. 

With no warning Jerome dropped his brother cold onto the floor and stood up. Taking three large, tentative steps back, he folded his arms neatly behind his back. Adorning a large, sinister grin, Jerome spoke carefully, “See, I have a point to prove, therefore you are spared.”

“But make no mistake,” he hissed toward’s the helpless man still tied to a chair, “If you give me a real reason dear brother, I will take you out with no hesitation.” He bowed his head and let the silence sit for a heavy moment. 

Jerome ran out through the busted door this time. Leaping with joy and hollering in the now empty nighttime streets of the Narrows. He left Jeremiah on the floor the chair was crap he’d eventually break free. 

You really never expected him to come back. So when you answered your door all disheveled you really were expecting the pizza guy. 

He wasted no time pulling you in for a kiss and walking you backward. At that moment you didn’t care if he was here to yell at you or only here to throw a fit, you just wanted to feel whole again. You wanted to feel him. 

He pushed the door shut but held you close as he broke the kiss. Holding your hands in one hand, he brushed your cheek with the other. 

“You are my freedom. My escape from insanity.” Jerome breathed. “When I’m with you nothing else matters, please, let me do this with you.” His smile was so wide you couldn’t tell the scars were there. “When I’m with you I’m free of reputation and expectations, I can just exist.”

“Really?” And that was all you could say. Tears welled in your eyes as your stomach finally felt whole again. 

“Really.” He laughed lightly. “You’re my family.” He kissed your forehead as your snaked your arm around his neck.

“We’re gonna be parents.” You whispered, looking up at him. “You’re gonna be a dad.” Smiling gently you pecked his lips. 

“Yes, yes I am.” He chuckled. “And you’re gonna be a mom.”

“Well I have a savings account Hon, it’s time we talk about the Joker’s retirement.” You laughed as he swung you off your feet and into his arms. 

“How about I get some guys we do some stuff at a bank...” He drawled on as he dropped you on your couch. “Then you and me, outta Gotham in the night ever to return.” He climbed over you and laid down on top of you. And indescribably warmth spread through your body like when you wake up and before sun rise and the first rays of sun touch your skin during the rise. 

“I like that.” You giggled as he kissed your cheek. 

“Yeah?” He laughed as you pulled him further into your body.

“Yeah.”

[suicidesqwads]

You’re a Cutie

Request: GIVE ME SHY NON CONFIDENT READER AND THE EVER SO CONFIDENT & SELF LOVING JEROME HAVING FLUFFY MOMENTS

Notes: I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG FORGIVE ME PLEASE

“Hello doll.”

“Uh, goo- I mean hi... Jerome.”

Jerome let out a chuckle as the pink cheeks of the girl stood to attention. The girl, Y/N, was looking towards her shoes as they turned in shying away from the cocky ginger that stood in front of her.

“You are way to shy for a girl as pretty as you.” he commented as he forcibly looped arms with Y/N and started dragging her along the street littered with the rich, homeless and the ones in-between. She remained tense as her legs dragged along and her enlarging eyes started at Jerome’s determined and chipper smile.

“I wouldn’t say I’m pretty Jerome.”

“Well, if you won’t say it than I will.”

“...Uh, Jerome, were are we going?” Y/N asked nervously as she started to linger behind him his fast strides making it hard to keep up. Jerome let out a small chuckle at the girl that had taken multiple one sided conversations to get a ‘hi’ out of. He was proud thinking about how far he had come, and he was going to earn her trust.

“A place you’ll love, guarantee.”

“You sure?”

“Always.”

Y/N kept a emotionless face disregarding the cockiness in his voice as she got pulled down another street where he came to a almost comical halt.

Jerome flung a stiff hand towards a building with a devious, confident smile. The gesture caused Y/N to jump back and give a nervous smile before she noticed it was a cafe she commonly visited. Confused and worried she looked towards Jerome, “Jerome it isn’t open these hours on Sunday... So I’m just gonna go...” Y/N trailed off starting to shyly walk away from Jerome before Jerome slammed two hands beside her head stopping her movements, her body landing on the locked door of the cafe.

“You worry to much cutie,” he said one hand slithering down, unknowingly to Y/N revealing a key, “You act like I can’t manage to pull of a few strings.”

Y/N suddenly fell into the cafe, the door unlocked by Jerome who stood their with an amused smile as he stepped in and closed the door watching Y/N push herself up from the floor, “I managed to rent the place out for an hour, so you can do anything you want here with me, aren’t I amazing?”

Y/N ignored the last question with a present smile on her face as she looked around, pillows and blankets around the room with lights hanging from the ceiling, she couldn’t believe Jerome had done this (though he didn’t actually). She turned to Jerome with a grateful but reserved smile, “Thank you so much, this is so sweet I don’t know who you managed this!”

Jerome smiled before grabbing a tray of cupcakes, “Wanna cupcake?”

Y/N laughed and nodded waiting for the tray to come within reach only for it to be pulled further back, “I wanna kiss first doll.”

Y/N nearly choked on air and her face blew up red, she took a step back and shook her head, “What? No! I’m not gonna kiss you.”

Jerome frowned, “Why not?”

“Because, because... I don’t know.”

“Nervous?”

“...Yeah?”

Jerome chuckled and leaned forwards leaving their faces very close to each other his eyes glinting with a usual sparkle it had, “Don’t worry sweet cheeks, I’ll handle it.”

Jerome quickly dove in for a kiss, Y/N’s eyes widened and didn’t move frozen in shock, when Jerome pulled back his smile a lot more dapper than usual, he pushed a cupcake towards Y/N’s face, one she didn’t grab still in pure shock.

“I...Uh, I -uhhh, umm, wha?”

Jerome chuckled looking at the Y/N’s bashful form, “Was I that good?”

“...You realise I know nothing about you Jerome?”

“Is that a problem cutie?”

“Should it be?”

“No, of course not.”

[maweallgotohell]

Heyyy ik you’re working on something rn, but if you still want to do requests I’d request something fluffy with Jerome… like cuddling or being touchy or whatever. I’m a hoe for fluffy soft stuff, personally :)

Hey hun <3

Thank u sm for your request.

And sorry I’m so late with this 🥲

I literally have 27 story drafts for the Cam character stuff and 3 stories I started to write, and somehow I’m working on all of them from time to time but somehow I need so fuckin‘ long to finish 'em.

But requests are something to distract myself from those if I’m having kind of a writers block on them so here we fuckin‘ go, baby!

————————————

Fluffy Jerome would include:

• him being touchy. Literally all the time.

I’m sorry, but I can’t see this guy ever letting go of you, honey, nah ah.

He is always touching you, in whatever way. It doesn’t have to be holding hands all the time, even tho he loves that. How your small and soft hand fits in his large and rough ones so perfectly - It’s just chef’s kiss honestly.

When you two watch TV and sit on the couch together, cuddled up in a warm and cozy blanket, that’s big enough for the two of you, you mostly lean against him. First with just your shoulder and then with your head.

He doesn’t say anything, not wanting to interrupt the comfortable silence while watching some nostalgic disney movie,

but he nearly always puts an arm around your shoulder, laying his hand onto the top of your head, pulling you closer in the motion. Then he just softly caresses your hair with his thumb while smiling to himself when you cuddle yourself up into his side even more. It’s just so cute tbh.

He also can’t stop smiling when you two are literally anywhere and you intertwine your pinky fingers. It’s just so fuckin‘ cute to him. Like a lost puppy. And he does that sometimes too. Jerome holding physical contact>>>>

• yeah, as I already mentioned, I’m hardly convinced he loves watching Disney movies

And I believe that his inner child is obsessed with the Disney princesses. Those movies are his favorite.

When you watch those, he always criticizes if the prince, or whoever “saves“ the princess, does something stupid while trying to save her. He then explains to you, how he would save you in such a situation, which would obv be a way sm better than theirs, because u are his princess and his plan to save you would be bulletproof.

Even tho it’s a joke, he makes up those plans kinda seriously, because he wouldn’t ever risk losing you. Ever.

He‘d also appear randomly and sing Disney songs. I’m fuckin serious darling.

You’re in the kitchen, making pancakes?

Not without musical accompaniment, babe.

The kitchen door swings open and your bf storms in, blasting ‚Be our guest‘ from Beauty and the Beast on full volume while dancing gracefully around the kitchen, acting like Lumière and knowing literally every. single. word and phrase.

He should’ve gone to broadway instead of becoming a serial killer.

First, you always break out in laughter, obv. But then you join in. How couldn’t u, really?

Couple goals, if u ask me.

• okay here comes another thing I literally ALWAYS imagine happening when yourein a relationship with him.

Like, you obv think he’s pretty. Super incredibly pretty. And most of the time he isn’t really insecure about anything but he has his moments where he feels like not being enough for you. Which obv isn’t true.

You then always take a moment to really tell him how much he means to you.

You also have these random moments where you just realize over and over again how much you love him. Like, obv you know that, but I think we all know these moments where we look at a person we know and suddenly this wave of admiration washes over us? This can’t be only me guys.

Like imagine you two preparing dinner or something and you take a quick glance at him slicing tomatoes but you’re not able to take your eyes off of him.

Eventually he notices and looks back at you questioningly but amused.

„ Yn, you good? Do I have something on my face?“

You shake your head. Then you take a step forward and put a hand on his cheek, tracing his scars with your thumb.

„ What is it then?“

You follow your thumb with your eyes, admiring every single inch of his face.

„Nothing…“, you say, still not looking him in the eyes.

„You’re just so pretty.“

GIRL WHEN I TELL YOU HIS HEART MELTS?

IT‘S DRIPPING ON THE FLOOR.

He loves these moments just as much as you do. Sometimes he still can’t get his head around the fact that somebody, and then even such a cute, loving and beautiful person like you, really genuinely loves him so much.

Sometimes he even shed a tear but psst-

Don’t tell the rest of the league ;)

Jk he wouldn’t really give a fuck if anyone saw him crying. His masculinity isn’t that fragile and those are tears of joy at that so yeah

Our baby is a slaying queen-

Anyone making fun of him could end up with a bullet right between the eyes so there isn’t really a risk of that as well

But he mostly just doesn’t cry. After the abusive time with his mom, he somehow just stopped crying. He shed so many tears through that time, that there kinda weren’t any left.

And if he cries, he just does it in your presence, because you’re his comfort person and he knows he’s safe with you.

It’s so cute-

————————

Hope u like it. I‘ll edit this later if you don’t mind-

And I’ll probably post more of this kinda stuff bcs tf this is cute so yeah.

If anything you had in mind wasn’t in here, feel free to let me know <3

[maweallgotohell]

Jerome Valeska - articles pt. 1

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pairing: Jerome Valeska x fem! reader

warnings: none

summary: reader is a journalist for the Gotham Gazette and has to write an article about Jerome. Her boss wants her to do an interview with the criminal and so she visits him in Arkham. But what happens when they develop feelings for each other and Jerome NEEDS to see her again?

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"Amazing! Simply amazing, Miss LN! I am very impressed.", your boss said.

You were working for the Gotham Gazette and for the last 3 months you were working on a very important project and articles about some of the more shady sides of Gotham.

Since Jim Gordon appeared and claimed to clean up the GCPD and Gotham itself, more people in town wanted to know what's really going on.

And so you were assigned to start a series of articles about Gordon's cases, which was meant to become quite important for the Gazette.

And it did.

By the time the first article was published, every single person in Gotham knew your name and who you were. Even a certain ginger boy already heard a lot about you.

And now, because of your great work, your boss wanted you to write another seemingly important article about a certain redheaded and incredibly dangerous villain.

Jerome Valeska.

You wrote about him before in the Gordon series but that was just from the views of the GCPD and citizens. Now your boss wanted interviews. With the man himself.

You had to admit you were a little scared when you were told to go pay him one or more visits in Arkham for those interviews you needed.

But you had to get over that silly little bit of fear, because you really wanted to write that article. It wasn't only important for the Gazette, but for your career too and you had to say that you were even quite interested in the villain's reasons and backstory yourself.

So when you stood in front of the Asylum, you straightened out your olive green pants and blazer again, took another deep breath and walked in.

Strange greeted you quite friendly and offered you a cup of coffee immediately, which you gladly took.

Yeah, you already had like 3 but if you were the one to meet a fuckin' psychopathic killer who murdered his mother with an axe, you'd need a huge amount of caffeine too, right?

When Strange left, he introduced you to a male guard, who seemed to be a little older than yourself but was kinda like two times your body size and height.

The guard was introduced as 'John' and the two of you shook hands. Then he showed you around Arkham in general first.

It seemed rather scary to you and you couldn't help but feel sad for anyone who had to spend such an amount of time in such a rotten place, no matter if they were killers and psychopaths or not.

You went through the cafeteria, the common room, med room and you were even allowed to look into some of the cells.

It was quite shocking to you because you thought the circumstances in an asylum weren't that bad. They were meant to care for the inmates. But this? Nobody deserved this.

After the tour the guard gave you, he said that he would now bring you to „Mr. Valeska".

He led you into an empty room, which was guarded by around 12 huge men. In the room was nothing but a metal table and two chairs.

John told you that they all would be outside and would watch through a one-way-mirror, so that Jerome couldn't pull any shit. This lowkey calmed you down but on the other side you knew that if he wanted to try anything, he could and would, no matter if there were guards or not.

So you just hoped that he didn't want to see you dead.

You took a seat on one of the chairs and John left the room with the words " Mr. Valeska will be here in around ten." and muttered a barely audible "stay safe", which kinda concerned you.

You put down your bag and took out your files, question sheets and your notebook. 

After going through them one last time and changing some stuff, the door opened and the dangerous ginger walked in. He grinned down at you, which caused a strange feeling to spread around your body and then he took the seat on the other side of the table in front of you.

" Hello beautiful", he said, dragging out the 'o' while sitting down, still grinning at you.

You nodded, now with an unusual and strangely shy behavior.

"Hello Mr. Valeska. How are you?", you said, trying not to stare at him and avoiding eye contact by scanning your notes intensely.

" Oh please, darling, call me Jerome.", he smirked. You felt heat rising up to your cheeks and just hoped that you wouldn't go all red over him and his sweet talk.

You nodded.

"Well I'm doing real great, ya know. Well, as great as an inmate in such a shitty place could feel.", he said with sarcasm lacing his voice, but you saw something hurt in his eyes and couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

You nodded again.

" But, more important is: how are you, beautiful? It's not really usual for pretty journalists like you to just walk in here and interview some strange and dangerous criminal like me."

God, that damn smirk.

"I'm fine", you said, trying to sound as professional and unshaken by his words as possible. " My boss liked my articles about the Gordon stuff and wanted something just as interesting. So he asked me to interview a criminal."

He smitten smiled and asked in a jokingly teasing, but kinda proud tone:" And you chose me?"

You nodded.

"Yeah. I thought it would be interesting to hear and write about your motives and views, considering that you were the head of the latest shocking crimes and probably the most dangerous and intriguing criminal of Gotham."

He seemed impressed and satisfied with your answer and a rather proud expression laid itself upon his features.

Speaking of his features, you were now examining everything about his appearance and how he spoke, not realizing you were staring.

"Like what you see, Miss LN?", he smirked smugly.

" Let's just start with the interview."

——————————————————————————

word count: 1007

So this is the first part of the 'articles' story. Hope y'all like it.

C ya

[maweallgotohell]

Me: writing about Jerome Also Me: not able to get my head off Jerome so I can write about him It's a weird cycle