#jeremiah x ecco fanfic

[rowenaaine]

Gotham Fic Master List

To make it easier for readers (and me) to find my Gotham-related fanfic, here is a master list of those I’ve written or are in progress. I will later add my favorites by other fanfic writers, but that list is liable to be enormous! so so many...

Wayleska Poison in the Blood (complete, 13 chapters + playlist) How’s It Gonna Be (wip) Undeniable (part 1 of “Learning to Heal” series) Not As Easy As You Think (part 2 of “Learning to Heal” series) Rewind (one shot) Gotham Prompt #10 “Like a Normal Couple“ Gotham Prompt #48 “Fate”

Osmiah Paying for It (wip and sequel underway)

Gobblepot on the bed of the soul, the waves escape (wip) Gotham Prompt #16 “An Inconvenient Lunch”

Sunday Six tumblr tag How’s It Gonna Be preview (Valeska Twins) Paying For It - Ch 24 excerpt (Valeska Twins flashback) Paying For It - Ch 13 excerpt (Osmiah, bat reference) Gotham Prompt #48 “Fate” (Wayleska)

Eccomiah Giving In (one shot)

[jeremiah-and-jerome-valeska]

I’m in an intense writer’s block right now, so hopefully this helps.

Ways to un-stick a stuck story

Do an outline, whatever way works best. Get yourself out of the word soup and know where the story is headed.

Conflicts and obstacles. Hurt the protagonist, put things in their way, this keeps the story interesting. An easy journey makes the story boring and boring is hard to write.

Change the POV. Sometimes all it takes to untangle a knotted story is to look at it through different eyes, be it through the sidekick, the antagonist, a minor character, whatever.

Know the characters. You can’t write a story if the characters are strangers to you. Know their likes, dislikes, fears, and most importantly, their motivation. This makes the path clearer.

Fill in holes. Writing doesn’t have to be linear; you can always go back and fill in plotholes, and add content and context.

Have flashbacks, hallucinations, dream sequences or foreshadowing events. These stir the story up, deviations from the expected course add a feeling of urgency and uncertainty to the narrative.

Introduce a new mystery. If there’s something that just doesn’t add up, a big question mark, the story becomes more compelling. Beware: this can also cause you to sink further into the mire.

Take something from your protagonist. A weapon, asset, ally or loved one. Force him to operate without it, it can reinvigorate a stale story.

Twists and betrayal. Maybe someone isn’t who they say they are or the protagonist is betrayed by someone he thought he could trust. This can shake the story up and get it rolling again.

Secrets. If someone has a deep, dark secret that they’re forced to lie about, it’s a good way to stir up some fresh conflict. New lies to cover up the old ones, the secret being revealed, and all the resulting chaos.

Kill someone. Make a character death that is productive to the plot, but not “just because”. If done well, it affects all the characters, stirs up the story and gets it moving.

Ill-advised character actions. Tension is created when a character we love does something we hate. Identify the thing the readers don’t want to happen, then engineer it so it happens worse than they imagined.

Create cliff-hangers. Keep the readers’ attention by putting the characters into new problems and make them wait for you to write your way out of it. This challenge can really bring out your creativity.

Raise the stakes. Make the consequences of failure worse, make the journey harder. Suddenly the protagonist’s goal is more than he expected, or he has to make an important choice.

Make the hero active. You can’t always wait for external influences on the characters, sometimes you have to make the hero take actions himself. Not necessarily to be successful, but active and complicit in the narrative.

Different threat levels. Make the conflicts on a physical level (“I’m about to be killed by a demon”), an emotional level (“But that demon was my true love”) and a philosophical level (“If I’m forced to kill my true love before they kill me, how can love ever succeed in the face of evil?”).

Figure out an ending. If you know where the story is going to end, it helps get the ball rolling towards that end, even if it’s not the same ending that you actually end up writing.

What if? What if the hero kills the antagonist now, gets captured, or goes insane? When you write down different questions like these, the answer to how to continue the story will present itself.

Start fresh or skip ahead. Delete the last five thousand words and try again. It’s terrifying at first, but frees you up for a fresh start to find a proper path. Or you can skip the part that’s putting you on edge – forget about that fidgety crap, you can do it later – and write the next scene. Whatever was in-between will come with time.

[sam-quinn]

Opinions please!

So, I can't find any fan fics that really catch my interest that are based on eccomiah or jerome/harley.

(Shout out to @empg for doing your own fan fic, you're inspiring me!)

And since I can't find any I have some ideas that would be interesting to write about:

-how ecco became crazy and her devotion towards jeremiah

-ecco becoming harley after the finale (one shot)

-jerome becoming the joker (jeremiah didn't exist and it's Jerome that goes through the jeremiah journey)

Thoughts?? @jeremiahwasajoker @jeromes-harley @the-blood-mask-woman-of-insanity

[crystallinee-waters]

Vertigo [Ecco/Jeremiah]

Fandom: Gotham Summary: Ecco's rebirth, starting with a .38 caliber test of faith.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17802275

[gothamtrashblog]

Bitches!! Its Gotham time

[slashersrus]

Jeremiah Valeska x Reader? Jeremiah x Ecco?

I've got a few ideas for some Jeremiah x reader and Jeremiah x Ecco stories. I just want to know if people would prefer Jeremiah before his reveal or after? Would you want him as an innocent cinnamon roll or a hot psycho?

[anonymousmink]

would you ever consider writing a Jeremiah x Ecco fanfic? since you're such a good writer

Awww thank you so much lovely anon! My head was screaming ‘no bitch don’t do it, focus on your WIPS, we don’t even know anything about Ecco yet’ but my heart… well that cracked open google docs as soon as I got this nice message and started writing! :-P

Have this here shortfic about the aftermath of 4x18 and my eternal love

“Jeremiah!” His name came out in a gasp, fear squeezing the air from her lungs as Ecco scrambled across the room. The door swinging shut behind her with a thud.

She had one job. One fucking job.

How many times was she going to fail him?

She still wasn’t fully over what had… happened. A low ache had taken root in her skull from the blow she’d been struck, slowing her down as she tried to put the pieces back together, to reassemble herself after a mad man had picked her brain apart like it was a badly knitted sweater.

But it was supposed to be over now. It was supposed to be done.

Guilt weighed her down, making her sluggish as she fell to her knees beside Jeremiah, trying to focus even as her brain screamed. A few words and she’d been ready to do whatever Tetch said, ready to turn against the one man in the world she…

No. Now was not the time. Focus Ecco.

She pulled herself together sharply, her mind was her own again. She could help him now. Please God, if anyone was listening, let her be able to help him.

“Jeremiah, talk to me!” He was on the floor, doubled over and wheezing as she reached for him. His eyes screwed tight as he coughed, something almost like a laugh tearing loose from his throat as the lights overhead flickered and flared. “Jeremiah!”

Her hands shook as she searched for the cause of his distress, betraying her even as she told herself she was calm. She could do this. His skin was ice cold and paler than she’d ever seen it, hair in disarray as her stomach tightened convulsively in fear.

Blocked airway. Esophageal injury. Poison.

“Not… exactly…” he wheezed, hand working at his throat as the coughing fell off at last. Breath coming easier for them both.

He was speaking. Coherent. Alive.

She drank in his voice like she was dying of thirst, heart crashing as she reached for his shirt, beating so fast she barely registered the words. Fingers trembling she loosened his top button, helping him lean against the wall as she fought to seem composed.

He opened his eyes.

They were… he was…

She hadn’t noticed it in her rush, ascribing his pallor to the attack, but now… His skin was white, not just pale, not just sickly, but true white. And his eyes… the perfect blue-green she knew better than her own had changed completely. Sharpened into something almost inhuman, light and bright but ringed with darkness.

“What happened?” She whispered, forgetting herself entirely as she sat back on her heels. Her hand still half raised towards his almost familiar features.

“A gift,” he gestured to the box on the opposite table, the one she should have seen before. The one she should have stopped from ever reaching him. “From my late brother. A rather… illuminating one.”

Jerome. Of course.

Rage gripped her, strangling her voice in her throat as she looked at the twisted jack in the box. If he’d hurt Jeremiah, if he’d even… her hands fisted, nails digging deep enough to draw blood as she drew in a breath. If he’d hurt Jeremiah she swore she’d find a way to bring Jerome back from the dead just to kill him all over again.

Slowly this time. With feeling.

Jeremiah didn’t seem to share her rage, he was already rising, dusting off his knees with a reserved smile before offering her his hand. She took it silently, trying to keep her face impassive to hide the rush of her heart as he helped her to her feet. His palm cool and calloused beneath her fingers.

“Better?” He asked, one eyebrow hooking jovially, like she was the one who’d been attacked.

She nodded mutely, face heating as she trailed after him across the room. She’d have time to berate herself later, to rage and roar and wallow in her own guilt, now she had to focus up. Cosmetically he might have changed but he was still Jeremiah, her Jeremiah.

Her saviour.

And she had a job to do.

The smile was still there, the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth as he rifled through his blueprints. Nodding to himself as he found the one he wanted, the one for the new generator, and pulled it to the top of the pile. His fingers flexing like white spiders as he smoothed down the edges. Elegant. That was the word for him, effortlessly so, like he didn’t even realize…

“Ecco my dear,” his voice pulled her from her haze, perfectly still and calm as he perused the page, “my brothers death has shown me one thing very clearly.”

She stayed silent, stepping close to his side as his gaze flickered back and forth, knowing he’d continue when he was ready. She’d always respected that about him. Now if she could just stop staring…

He caught her gaze and she stopped breathing entirely, something unbearably beautiful about his new eyes even as they cut through her like a scalpel. Like he could see her every triumph, her every failure, every thought and foible and accepted it all.

Accepted her.

“This town needs a better class of criminal.”

She blinked, taking a half step back at his sudden shift in priorities. Scrambling to keep up even as she accepted it without a thought.

“Jer- Mr Valeska?” She caught herself on the edge of informality, confusion crinkling her brow. It was all well and good calling his name in the heat of the moment but his face said business and she understood the difference.

“Hmm perhaps,” he seemed to give her knee-jerk response more consideration than it deserved, lips pursing ever so slightly as his gaze swept around the room, “but then again perhaps not. Mister J, yes, that will do for now I think.”

“Of course, Mister J,” she snapped to attention, accepting the change without complaint. It was easier to think with the formalities in place, easier to remember herself. Each inch of space between them helping her keep her unruly emotions in check. Kept them from drowning her.

She’d always felt too much, craved too much, it was her weakness. How many days and months and years had she spent locking the feelings down? Determined to funnel them into something useful. Something worthy. To prove that Jeremiah had been right when he’d saved her all those years ago, back when they were little more than children…

Her back straightened, chin up as she stood resolutely waiting for his next words. Perfect porcelain as she stepped back into her role. His constant shadow.

His echo.

“I’ve seen the future,” his smile was back, that restrained tug at the corner of his mouth that spoke of a grand idea in progress, “and I feel I must warn you, I will not be able to create the world I’ve seen without first harnessing a destruction unlike any this city has known. I intend to pull it down and rebuild it in my image. Are you with me?”

“Always.”

She didn’t have to think, she’d never had to. Jeremiah… Mister J… he was a visionary. A genius. And whatever path he walked, no matter  how bloody, she would follow without question.

Even if it meant walking straight into the mouth of hell itself, she’d do it with a smile.

[trumpetnista]

CMW2/Trumpetnista: Not You, Too

Summary from FFN: CANON COMPLIANT AU WITH HEAVY SPOILERS FOR THE END OF SEASON 4 AND THE FIRST EPS OF 5. POSSIBLY A FUTURE FIC; Gotham breaks all the rules all the time, especially now. Thankfully, the one about cats having 9 lives? That still holds. Bruce thinks Selina is dead. Everyone does until she walks into the GCPD the next morning.;Rated for language and imagery;1st in my 2019 SSS Project

Words from the Hooded GOTHAMITE: As I said last time, what keeps me watching GOTHAM (other than the awesome writing, dope ass cast, and the lovely fandom...) are Bruce Wayne and Selina Kyle. They hooked me like a fish and I fell in love with the rest of the show in the process. Season 5 has been excellent as always yet bittersweet. It’s supposed to be the last one (I hope not. I hope the show gets picked up or we get a movie or something! It can’t be over yet! Come on!) and I have a feeling that B and Grumpy Cat aren’t gonna be together in the endgame. Not outright, anyways. I don’t think they’ll be enemies but together? As in Helena Wayne showing up levels of together? Nah. 

That’s what fanfic is for. There is a follow up to Positive planned, BTW.

Anyway, this one is another canon complaint AU set in the current season. All you really need to know is that The Eviler Evil Valeska Twin shot our girl, she was paralyzed and now she’s not thanks to Ivy Pepper Version 3’s reluctant help, and Gotham is now divided up into Zones, most of them insane and wild and chock full of yikes. Oh, and Bruce loves Selina but that’s always been pretty fucking obvious. LOL! Enjoy the latest. 

Disclaimer: “Honestly, it’s not mine!”

"What's up, 5-0? Beautiful day, isn't it? The sky is smoggy blue and the birds are singing..."

He was hallucinating.

He had to be.

There was no way that what he was hearing was possible.

No matter how much he ached to, there was no way that he was hearing Selina Kyle's voice.

She was dead. Truly dead. She had gone on one of what she called her "shopping trips" for The Haven and Jeremiah Valeska had finished what he had started that horrible night in the Study. He and his demented girlfriend had trapped her in a warehouse, knocked her out, and blown her up. Not only had they done it, Jeremiah had turned himself in, battered but proud. He claimed that it had been for the best. Selina was nothing but street trash. She was his downfall and utterly unacceptable as a companion for him. Gotham needed its Dark Knight to be with someone who truly understood what reality was. Someone like...

Bruce Wayne hadn't let him finish. Before anyone could stop him, he had picked up a chair and gone after him, much to the shrieking horror of Ecco. It had taken several officers and someone, likely Alfred Pennyworth, sedating him to make him stop. He had woken up in Jim Gordon's office and had stayed on the couch. He didn't want to see anyone. Nobody knew what to say to him. Everyone knew how much Selina meant to him. That was why she had been targeted twice.

Bruce had managed to help her. He had gone straight into the belly of Ivy Pepper's foliage covered beast to get the root to fix her severed spine. Selina had gotten back on her feet immediately and hit the ground running. Shocking everyone, she had opted to wait to get her revenge against Valeska. She was going to play the long game. Valeska wasn't going anywhere. He was just as trapped as everyone else, thanks to the bridges being gone and the Travel Ban.

When asked why, she had sadly explained that Tabitha Galavan, her Mentor turned Sister, had been impatient for revenge and it had taken her life. She had allowed anger and hurt to cloud her judgement. She had dropped her guard and Oswald Cobblepot had promptly murdered her. Bruce had seen it happen. It had been expected. After all, both Galavan siblings had done great harm to the man but hearing Barbara Kean's devastated rage? Knowing that Selina would have to mourn her? It had hurt deeply. It was all a goddamned waste.

Instead of seeking out Valeska or his followers, Selina had opted to use her skills as a thief to help The Haven and its refugees. She would pick a small gang's turf within a Zone, typically Penguin's, and go in for 12-36 hours. She would bring back people, ammunition, medicine, and meaningful things like blankets or feminine hygiene products. She had quickly gained a reputation for being utterly ruthless to any who tried to stop her, which had concerned him greatly. Ivy had warned him that the root would not only fix her spine but amplify the darker aspects of her personality. Bruce had tried to reel her in, leading to several arguments, and eventually, they had reached a stalemate.

She would do what she liked. He would stay out her way or at least keep his judgement to himself while he helped her. Gotham was a madhouse. It always had been but now? It was a free for all. It was survival of the fittest and she would be damned if she let someone who crossed her walk away. She had made that mistake in the past and it had cost her dearly. She had been screwed over one too many times. It would not be happening again. If there was a Hell, she was already going to it so what did it matter, anyways? Self defense wasn't murder, neither was saving people's asses.

Plus, she didn't know about him but she was in no mood to deal with the same group of psychos 10 years from now. She wanted to deal with new psychos.

But, now she wouldn't because she was dead and gone. She was as dead and gone as his parents.

His Selina was gone and Bruce would never see her again, not in this life.

But, the hallucination...she wasn't...she couldn't be...

Could she? Please?

Her mane of golden chestnut curls wasn't singed and pulled up into a messy bun. She wasn't standing in the 12th precinct's main entryway. She wasn't wheezing softly from a partially blocked nose. Her tactical suit wasn't unzipped to reveal a stained gray sports bra and bruised torso. She wasn't looking at the stunned occupants of the room with her usual dismissive amusement, even with a black eye. She wasn't limping and her whip wasn't wrapped around her bruised shoulder like a coil of wire as she drank straight from a bottle of what appeared to be Everclear.

She couldn't be...could she? Was it possible? She couldn't...why was the room spinning? Why was his chest hurting? Bruce stood in the office, speechless and shaking, watching as the Selina hallucination sat on the receptionist desk. It was so real...

"What's the matter? You guys never seen a 7 lives having bitch before?"

"My God..."

"Jesus Christ, Gordon! Get the hell off of me! You, too, Alfred! Bad touch!"

The hallucination looked like her. It definitely sounded like her but it couldn't...she wasn't...but Jim was smiling at it. Alfred was too. Both were still hugging the hallucination and Harvey Bullock had taken its bottle of liquor away, taking a deep swig. She snatched it back from him and shot him a lethal look, making him grin.

"Buzz off, gumshoe. This is mine. I earned it. Plus, it's the closest thing we've got to morphine, which I kinda need right now. I need some morphine, a shower, a nap, maybe take a crap before all of that..."

"Kid, we all thought you were done for. Valeska and his crazy Terminator bitch said you were."

"I'm not a kid. Yeah, I definitely got shanghaied by those goddamned freaks and it sucked but their bomb didn't kill me like they wanted it to. It just made me fly away, which was totally fun until I landed face, ribs, and tits first into the side of a delivery truck. Don't do that, by the way. It hurts. I managed to get it started and it has some good stuff in there. Ammo, some cases of water, and those military TV dinner things and I think there might be meds. I'm not sure. Speaking of meds, I'm still looking for Lee. She was the best, bravest doctor in the city and if I can find her, you can get The Narrows under control real easy. Everybody loved her because she legit gave a shit so they're looking for her. There's a big T.P. and blankets reward for anyone who finds her. She might be across the river, I dunno. Maybe someone could swim over through the subways to go check and to ask for help in person since using the radio obviously doesn't goddamned work..."

"It's too dangerous. The damage from the bridges blocked or flooded the tunnels."

"Dammit. You can't rig something up, Foxy? You're like the better version of that tech dude from the James Bonds movies. The hell's his name again? X? Y?"

"Q."

"Right...whatever. Where's Bruce?"

"Selina..."

"Where. Is. Bruce? Alfred, where is he? Did he...where the hell is he?! What happened?!"

"Valeska showed up here gloating and he snapped. He took a chair to him and...he was in Cap's office but..."

"Get out of my way. Now."

"Selina, I know you're worried but..."

"Harper, I really like you but if you don't get the fuck out of my way, I swear to God, I'll..."

Bruce stepped out of the office and all eyes went to him. All he could see was Selina. He was still shaking and breathing was getting more difficult by the second but he couldn't look away. He didn't even want to blink because then, she would disappear and...

"Oh, no."

As soon as she touched him, reality hit him all at once.

She was real.

She was alive!

"Bruce. Bruce? Come on, baby, look at me...you need to breathe...look at me!"

His first instinct was to obey her and he did just that. His Selina wanted him to breathe. She wanted him to look at her and he was going to. He was going to do any and everything she asked.

Baby? That was new. Selina usually called him B or by his full name. Either that or she called him a douchebag or something else along those lines but fondly. Never a pet name. She had always cringed at pet names and other conventional romantic relationship things like them. But, she was alive. She was alive. She was battered and bruised and didn't smell very good but she was alive. Selina was alive! She wasn't gone. Jeremiah hadn't taken her away from him. Gotham hadn't stolen her away from him. He hadn't lost her. She was alive. She was right in front of him. He wasn't dreaming. He wasn't hallucinating.

"Selina?"

"Hey, Bruce."

"You're alive."

"Barely."

"...y-you're alive?"

"Yeah, I'm alive. I'm right in of- ow!"

Bruce knew that he would have to do some serious groveling later but he didn't care. He hauled Selina flush against him and squeezed as hard as he could, uncaring of her injuries. The noises escaping him could be called crying or maybe screaming, he wasn't sure. As if let loose from a puppeteer's strings, he slumped against the wall and surprising him, Selina wasn't fighting him.

She was holding onto him just as tightly. She was crying like she had after her failed suicide attempt and he loosened his grip enough for her to look up at him. She had to look up at him, now. She had to stand on her tiptoes to give him a proper kiss when they were standing. He remembered when she was taller than him. He remembered when they first met. Every memory he had with her, good and bad, was running through his mind at warp speed.

Cupping his face, she kissed him deeply and he responded immediately, mindful of her cut lip. His second hug was much gentler and he smiled at a beaming Alfred, a crying and grinning Jim. They loved her just as much as he did. They were her family, along with Barbara Kean, and...

"As soon as the Travel Ban lifts, I'm going on vacation and I'm taking you with me. I don't give a shit about your Mission or whatever the hell you call it. We're going someplace warm where we can get falling down fucked up drunk legally and I can have my tits out."

Bruce tried to laugh but he kept sobbing, drinking her in greedily. She was alive. His best friend, his heart, his Selina was alive! She wanted to go someplace warm? Done. She wanted him with her? Done. Whatever she wanted, whatever she needed, he would do it. Even if (when) it compromised his moral compass, he would do it anyway because Selina Kyle was alive. She was alive and he wasn't going to question how. Okay, he would because that was how he was. He always wanted answers but the universe had granted him a most precious gift and...

"...not you, too?"

His voice was small and the smile, the look she gave him was the softest he had ever seen.

"Not me, too. Not today. Not ever. You're stuck with me, Bruce Wayne. Get used to it."

[jeremiah-and-jerome-valeska]

I have an eccomiah fic I’ve been working on and oooh boy, so far, it’s 50 pages and I’m not even done yet

[rowenaaine]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Gotham (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Ecco/Jeremiah Valeska, Jeremiah Valeska/Ecco, Eccomiah-Relationship Characters: Jeremiah Valeska, Ecco (Gotham TV), Bruce Wayne (mention), Jerome Valeska (mention) Additional Tags: Post episode 4.20, Missing Scene, One Shot, Fluff and Smut, What happened after the break-in at Wayne Enterprises, Explicit Sexual Content Summary:

“What happened to you?” She moved toward the armchair like she would approach a stray cat; carefully and with open hands.

“Had a little, ah, disagreement with one of Jerome’s followers while placing the last bomb.” She turned his chin to look at the dime-sized bruise on his jaw. “I didn't like getting this pretty face damaged,” he chuckled, the first real smile she’d seen from him in days. "Needless to say, we won't be working with that fellow again."

^^^

Just a one-shot I did in 2018 of Jeremiah x Ecco. Enjoy!

[sam-quinn]

Recommendations for fanfics!

I need more fanfics of:

Sarah x jareth

Drakken x shego

Jeremiah x ecco

Joker x harley

Rogue x gambit

Beth x daryl

Lucifer x chloe

Mystique x azazel

Nine x rose

Alice x hatter

...so if you know any good fanfics based on those pairings please let me know! I need more to read!!

[crystallinee-waters]

Hi👋🏼 would you consider ever writing Ecco x Jeremiah,there’s such little fanfiction for this pair and I know you’re one of the best

Hey! I have considered it! I don’t watch Gotham though, so I’ll need to do research about them and read fanfics to get the right feeling for it first. I can’t promise anything, but some day it might happen ~

Thank you !💕💕

[jeremiah-and-jerome-valeska]

(Chapter 1) Prologue to my Jeremiah x Ecco fanfic: Learning to Smile

Part 2

Part 3

I hope you all enjoy!

No warnings for this part (possibility for later parts though).

This part goes into Ecco as a child, visiting the circus.

_______________________________

Flashes of color painted the people, each filtered in bright lights. My eyes were consumed by the excitement of the elaborate displays. Clutching my mother’s hand, I pulled her around to each amusement.

“Slow down honey. We have time to get to them all,” my mother tried calming me.

“How can I slow down? We finally came to the circus after years of asking to come,”

“I know you’re eager, but I promise you we could come back tomorrow night if we don’t see everything. Okay?,” she responded softly.

I contemplated her offer, walking in a less frantic pace, “Alright,”

We walked by a few show booths, stopping at ‘The Strongman’. The man stood with his arms folded as he was hit with frying pans, bricks, and bats. He remained unfazed by the attacks, reacting only slightly. The show went on for a few more minutes of brick throwing then with one last swift swing to the man’s head, the audience clapped. The man had suffered no injury to the hit, amusing the crowd. I clapped, curious of the biological factors which allowed him to face such force of attack.

My mother and I decided to see what deserts we could get ahold of, so we walked through the food stands. A sweet aroma filled my nose. I could tell the scent of baked cookies anywhere. My mother had been drawn in as well, both deciding on what desert we craved. We walked up to the food trailer, finding a bearded man who wore a white apron.

My mother gave her order, “One chocolate chip please. And...what would you like honey?”

“I would like a snickerdoodle, please,” I requested.

The man turned to get the cookies and came back with a large one, handing it to my mother, “Here’s the chocolate chip,”

The man looked down to me and said, “Sorry kid, all out of snickerdoodles. Blame my sneaky nephews. You want another kind? I have sugar, chocolate, and peanut butter cookies left,”

“Um...I’ll take peanut butter,” I said with some disappointment.

The man offered, “I could warm it up for you a little bit, so it seems more fresh if you would like. It should only take a few minutes,”

My mother looked to me, “How’s that sound?”

“I would like that. Thank you,” I spoke to the man, moving further into the trailer to bake the cookie.

My mother noticed my disappointment, “Do you want some of mine?”

“It’s okay. I know how much you love chocolate chip,”

“You sure? I have plenty,” motioning to the cookie’s massive size.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” I gave reassurance.

She nodded in acknowledgment.

We stood waiting in silence, then a voice caught our attention, “Hey Christine!”

We turned towards the voice. I didn’t recognize the young man, but my mother seemed to.

She greeted the tall, slim man with a hug, “It’s nice to see you. We haven’t talked in a while. How are you doing?”

The man responded, “I’m doing well. I just got my doctorate degree. It took a while, but with hard work you could achieve anything. How’s life treating you?”

“I’m good. My daughter and I are having fun,” my mother smiled, urging me to greet the man.

“Hi,” I waved shyly.

He asked me, “You like the circus?”

I nodded a yes. My mother saw I was a little shy, so turned attention away from me, asking the man about his career.

My attention strayed from the conversation, shuffling my feet and moving to a nearby bench which I could wait for my cookie. I kicked my feet through the air, getting impatient. I heard shuffling nearby, seaming to come from the back of the trailer. I poked my head around, trying to find the noise’s cause. I couldn’t see anything and my curiosity grew. I sat up from the bench and followed closer to the source. I came the the trailer’s side, peaking around the corner.

I saw two ginger-haired boys struggling on the grass. One held what appeared to be a cookie as the other tried to climb atop the other boy, reaching for the cookie

The one holding the treat held back the other, “It’s mine! I’m not going to give you any!”

The other protested, “I found it first!”

“Well, you didn’t grab it first!”

“You know snickerdoodles are my favorite!” The boy with glasses pleaded.

I gasped in realization. So they’re the ones who took the last one.

I moved into the open, “I think that belongs to me,”

The two stopped fighting, looking at me. I found identical features between them, concluding they were twins.

The one without glasses intrusively asked, “Says who?”

“Me,” I stated with confidence.

The twins got up from the ground and moved closer towards me.

“We- I got it first. It’s not yours,” the one holding the cookie taunted.

I argued, crossing my arms, “Well I had just ordered a snickerdoodle from your uncle’s trailer, but he said he had no more because you two stole he last one. So that cookie should be mine,”

The ginger with glasses mentioned to his brother, “She has a good point,”

The one with the snickerdoodle pouted, shoving the cookie to his brother and stomped away “You’re no fun,”

The kind ginger approached timidly, handing me the cookie, “I’m Jeremiah. My angry twin who just stomped off is Jerome. Sorry about him,”

I accepted the cookie and smiled, “It’s okay. He’s nothing I couldn’t have handled,”

He smiled back and laughed a little at my comment, “So what’s your name?”

“All my friends call me Ecco,” I offered happily.

“Nice to meet you Ecco. You enjoying the circus?”

“Yeah, it’s my first time and it’s so fun. I finally convinced my mother to bring me this year. The shows are incredible to watch,”

“That’s cool. Do you have a favorite act?”

“I don’t know yet, but I thought the snake dancer was interesting,”

Jeremiah perked up, “That’s my mother. I’ll tell her you liked her performance today. Maybe she’ll introduce you to her snake Sheba,”

“I’d love that. Thanks Jeremiah,”

After a few moments he gave a goodbye and started walking away, “Well...I’ll leave you to enjoy your cookie. I hope I see you again,”

Before he left I stopped him, “Wait!”

He turned around and I broke off a part of the snickerdoodle, offering the piece to him, “Snickerdoodles are my favorite too,”

He accepted the piece, “Thanks. I hope I see you again,”

Waving my goodbyes, I begin to return to my mother ”I think you will. See you around Jeremiah,”

He waved back with a smile, “Bye Ecco”

[jeremiah-and-jerome-valeska]

Sorry I haven’t been as active on this blog for the past few days. I’ve been doing a lot of roleplay lately. I’ll be posting a new Jeremiah x Ecco fanfic I’m writing sometime today or tomorrow night.

For those of you who are reading my other Jeremiah x Ecco fanfic, I’m still working on it, but I’m taking a short break.

[jeremiah-and-jerome-valeska]

Learning to Smile (Chapter 3)!!!

Part 1

Part 2

Pairing: Jeremiah x Ecco

Warnings: Angst & Fluff

Fanfic summary: (fanfic is in Ecco’s perspective) Ecco suffers from nightmares which forces her to acknowledge her past, surfacing old wounds. Jeremiah comforts her and does what he can to help in any way. They’ve always been there for one another, through thick and thin. They begin to realize feelings which they develop for one another.

Chapter title: In Shock

Enjoy!

Full fanfic can be found here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14784771/chapters/34202334

______________________

The click of heels bounce off the thick gray walls. A cup of coffee clatters lightly on its petite plate as pancakes sit beside it on the tray. It’s sweet smell follows me into his office. Jeremiah doesn’t immediately greet me with a ‘good morning’ as he usually does. With his back turned towards his work, I place the tray down.

I straighten myself with hands behind my back and chin up, “Would you like anything else?”

He turns almost abruptly, somewhat startled, “Ecco. I didn’t notice you come in,”

I motion to the tray of food, “I brought you breakfast this morning,”

His eyes shift to the meal, “Thank you. That’s very kind of you,”

“I also want to thank you for letting me stay here while my apartment is undergoing repairs,” I mention.

“Of course. That thief should have known better than to break into your apartment,” he speaks with satisfaction.

I don’t respond, standing in place as I wait for him to release me to my other duties.

His gaze shifts to the floor for a few moments then looks to me with concern in his eyes, “How did you sleep last night?”

I’m stunned, not prepared for his question, “I- I didn’t sleep,”

His lips part slightly and he draws closer, “If you need to take the day off or next few days, you can if you need to. I’ll be able to manage,”

Shaking my head, I look down slightly and speak with a quiet tone, “No. I’ll be fine,”

He steps nearer, “But you need sleep. A few days won’t affect much. Please, take the time off,”

My head lowers with my gaze fixed on my leather boots, “I can’t sleep, Jeremiah. I try, but I can’t,”

“Nightmares?” he questions.

Nodding my head in confirmation, I unclasp my hands from one another and rest them at my sides. Jeremiah moves in front of me, placing is hand gently on my left arm. I look up, finding understanding in his eyes.

“I get them too. Some are about Jerome, but most are about being locked in this place, alone forever with no one to talk to” he admits.

My heart flutters as he takes his hands in mine.

“Ecco, you mean a lot to me. I hate to see you in distress. I want you to know that you can tell me anything. I’m here for you,” he speaks with a cute reassuring smile.

I process his words for a few moments then move to wrap my arms around his torso in an embrace. He wraps his arms around my body, holding me close.

“And I’ll always be here for you, whenever you need me,” I tell him with my ear to his chest.

He brings his head closer and rest his cheek to the back of my head.

‘I could stay in his arms forever.’

_____________________

FLASHBACK*

Red and blue overwhelm her vision. The girl sits on the porch steps, tear stains marking her cheeks. Her unblinking eyes are transfixed to the dry, shriveled grass. She sits with a blank mind and blank heart. Her mouth is agape as she is in a motionless shock.

A policeman approaches the girl, crouching down, “Hey sweetheart, can I ask you a few questions if you’re comfortable to?”

The girl nods a yes.

The cop adjusts their position and asks, “Do you know if anyone wanted to hurt your mother?”

“M-my my m-mother?” she stuttered out.

“Yes, your mother. Did anyone have a grudge against her?” The cop asked.

The girl continues to stare at the ground, pausing for a few seconds and then speaks emotionless, “My father would yell at her all the time. Sometimes he would get really mad and hit her. He took a knife one night and held it in front of her. After that day m-my mother took me and said we were leaving to Gotham,”

The cop waits a few seconds then asks, “Did he know where you left to?”

The girl finally looks up, answering, “I don’t know,”

“Do you have a family member who could watch over you?” the policeman asked in sympathy.

“My uncle lives in Gotham. That’s one reason why we came here. My m-mother wanted to be closer to her brother,” she wearily spoke.

“Alright. We’ll call him down here to come pick you up. Let me know if you need anything sweetheart,” offered the cop while standing up.

The shaking girl gave a slight nod, tucking her head into her knees while trying to filter out the noise.

_______________________

Warm drops of liquid fall to my cold palms. The dim lighting, plasters the room in shadows, calming my confused heart. I sit beside Jeremiah as we confide in each other. The ruffle of the bedsheets crease under my movement. Moving my head down to his shoulder, the hot tears stain his coat. Taking in a shaky breath, I close my eyes and find comfort in his lilac scent. A warm touch brushes across my hands as we interlock our fingers. I gradually open my eyes, finding the courage to look at his face.

My gaze lingers up his features, observing each detail until I reach his soft eyes, “You know what the sad part is? They never even found who did it. I was never able to look into the face of the person who had killed her,”

My frown deepens, red-rimmed eyes falling back to my shoes.

He squeezes my hand, “I’m sorry,”

The air is still for a few long moments. It was his turn to share. His foot uneasily adjusts, trying to find the words.

“When my mother died, I was devastated. Even more so when I found out my brother murdered her in cold blood. He had no remorse. He said her death was my fault,” Jeremiah spoke carefully, voice breaking at the last remark.

I hesitate for a second as I raise my thumb to his cheek and gently wipe the tear, “It wasn’t your fault,”

His eyes lift from the floor. His gaze shifts between my eyes and lips, leaning forward ever so slightly. My lips part and my eyes narrow shut as I lean closer and closer. As I’m close enough to count his freckles, the alarm wails and we draw back. The lights overwhelmingly illuminate the room in an irritating red.

I urgently get up from the bed, worried of any intruders. My instincts kick in and I return to my stoic demeanor.

Jeremiah gets up as well, motioning to the single monitor across the room, “Let’s see who’s trespassing,”

We move to the monitor, pressing the power on. The video steadily fills in color. A small dark dot flutters in the right corner of the screen.

I state, “Bats again,”

“It’s always bats. I’ll have to do something about that vent,” he sighed in annoyance.

“I’ll get the cage. You get the fruit,” I say as I begin to walk off to deal with the situation.

____________________

FLASHBACK*

The streets buzz constantly in the night as neon lights pour through the window. The girl lays on the uncomfortably hard mattress, trying to get sleep. Her eyes begin to flicker, but bloody images flash in her head and awaken her to another round of crying. She stares at the crevasses in the ceiling, connecting the lines into a picture. After a while, she pulls her legs to the side of the bed. She walks to the door which is leaking light into the room and cracks it open enough to get a visual.

Beer bottles litter the floor. Some broken and some still full. She spots her uncle laying across an old couch, drinking the next bottle. She pouts her lips and closes the door, returning to her bed. She wraps her arms around herself and tries to get as comfortable as she possibly can. She finds no use in getting sleep. Her hand digs through her pocket, searching for her drawing. Her fingers grasp onto the crumpled sheet. She pulls it out and does her best to smoothen the edges. The page is still wet at the corners, leaving a light mark on her fingers. The girl turns on her side and lays the drawing next to her on the pillow.

She’s drawn in and out of consciousness and whispers, “Good night, mother,”

As she finally drifts into a peaceful sleep.

_________________

I reminisce the events of last night.

‘He was so close. I almost kis- no it must have just been a spur of the moment thing. We were talking about our feelings and we were vulnerable. But was it something more? Does he feel the same way? What would have happened if the alarm didn’t go off? Come on, get ahold of yourself’

I snap out of it, ready to start the day. I’m greeted by the gray walls which I have grown use to, heading towards the kitchen to get myself breakfast and Jeremiah’s coffee.

I voice my identification, unlocking the door. I’m stunned. Jeremiah is sitting at the table already drinking his coffee. Usually he’s working at this time while I bring him his coffee. He turns his gaze towards me, smiling. I walk in, a burnt smell consuming my nose.

“Did you burn something?” I accuse.

He speaks with a nervous smile, “I...uh...made you breakfast,”

My eyes widen in shock, “Um...Thank you,”

I move to sit down and see a plate of slightly burnt pancakes.

“Sorry, I’m a terrible cook,” He shyly states.

“It’s okay. I appreciate you making breakfast for me. I wasn’t expecting this,” I smile.

I take a bite and comment, “It’s not that bad. It’s actually pretty good,”

A smile tugs at his lips, “I’m glad you like it,”

He spends a few seconds looking at me and then his eyebrows shift as if he realized something, “Ecco, I need to tell you something,”

I look up from my plate, a little more serious.

He speaks with composure, “I want to help you bring yourself closure. I want to find out who was behind your mother’s murder,”

My gaze falls to the plate and I shake my head, “Jeremiah, I can’t let you to do that,”

“Please. I don’t want you to continue to suffer,” he pleads.

“That’s too much to ask for,” I state, looking up at him with a long pause between us.

His eyes and voice soften as he moves closer, “I’d do anything for you my dear,”

My cheeks heat up at his comment, giving in, “Even if you did, how could you find who did it without seeing the police reports?”

“That’s where you come in. You would break into the GCPD and retrieve the case file in the archives. After all, I do want to get a layout of the station for future use” he states with a smirk.

I mirror his smile, “Alright. Maybe this will be fun,”