#jerome valeska x oc

[loony-lupus]

Great cover for a fanfic from @beauty-4-thebeast

But now I have to write this fanfic xD

[ficklefics]

It would be fun for you to write a long lists of what you love vs what you hate when it comes to Jerome Valeska fanfictions and why you feel that way 🤪

is this ask from last summer? yes. am i only answering it now? also yes. hopefully the asker still follows me.

please remember that these are all just my opinions and it’s totally fine to disagree. a lot of it comes down to the characterisation of Jerome, which I feel a lot of writers oversimplify

let’s start with what I don’t like (cause that’s easier):

one of my biggest frustrations are fics where it’s like “reader is a high school student/nurse at arkham/police officer who is actually super insane except shows no sign of that at all ever”. can they be done well? sure. but I rarely see it. one fic that I read years ago had the reader as one of the cheerleaders on the bus in s2ep2 and she hands Jerome a lighter because… why? never really clear. in general, the ordinary person who is actually the perfect type of insane for Jerome to be interested in as opposed to just killing is rarely done right for me

I hate when Jerome in a fic is poorly characterised. by that, I mean just behaving sporadically in a “the writer doesn’t know what they’re doing way” as opposed to “he’s insane”. it’s a difficult line to walk

now, don’t get me wrong. i like a lil smut. well written smut. but it’s difficult to write Jerome smut well. a very core element of his character, established very early, is the fact that his mother’s sexual activity defos traumatised him and was key in pushing him over the edge. a Jerome who’s just banging left right and centre isn’t a Jerome that’s in character for me

now onto the likes (a lot of which are just the inverses of the dislikes):

the best thing a writer can do (for me) is have a clear idea of who Jerome is in their mind and in their fic. like I said above, there are lots of different ways to portray Jerome, and it’s not my place to tell people what’s right or wrong. I’d much rather read a consistent Jerome that isn’t how I imagine him than a wibbly wobbly noncommittal Jerome

in a similar vein, fics where Jerome is actually a bad person who does bad things. commit crime! relish in people’s suffering! but do them in interesting ways.

I love a fic where we get of vulnerable Jerome. not every fic needs this, but depending on the context i really enjoy getting to see writers interpretations of what that looks like, especially given that we don’t get any of it in the show really

again, these are all just my own thoughts. there’s a lot of nuance and a lot of fics out there. stuff I used to love I hate now, and stuff I once hated… I usually still hate tbh. read the fics you love and write the fics that make you happy

[littlebatsimagines]

The Orphan and The Clown Part 2 (Jerome Valeska x OC)

Masterlist

The 18 year old ginger sat at the table in the rec room, his foot continuously tapping as he waited. “Calm down ginger, geez.” Barbra said as she walked by and sat across from him. “She’s been gone 20 minutes, what they took her for only takes 10.” he said as he turned away from Barbra, his foot tapping only stopping for a moment as he spun back to face the door. “Hmm. Didn't think you'd care for anyone.” One of theguards snickered as he walked by, kicking Jerome's foot. The tapping paused only for amoment as he tripped the guard who glared at Jerome as he stood back up. “Watch it boy or she wont be coming back." the guard growled as he confined walking. “So, what's so special about her?” Barbra asked making him quickly turn to her. “What’s it matter to you, huh? Jealous?” Jerome asked with a chuckle and wicked grin spreading across his features. “No just curious.” Barbra said unimpressed. “Well you know what they say..” he started as he fully turned to Barbra and started to inch across the table. “Curiosity killed the cat!” he said as he slammed his hand on the table causing her to jump slightly and him to laugh as he slowly sat back down. “Buuuut if you must know…” he started as he became strangely serious. “She’s been there through it all, the ups, the downs…the crazy coincidences. She's stayed through it all, she helped me hide things,” he started excitedly as he jumped up into a crouch on his chair. “She’s never shied away from me or what I've done…she’s never been afraid of me. She also has the best smile." he said as his wicked smile came back as he remembered her helping him hide thee body of his whore mother that lovely night.

“Hmm, so you need her?” Barbra asked pulling Jerome from his thoughts. “Noooo…not really, but I want her…she’s my partner in crime.” Jerome said his eyes meeting Barbra’s but his eyes held a strange spark. “Her demons don't stop mine, they dance together…not like any of you would get that." he giggled as the doors opened making him whip around and grin as the little doll he was waiting for walked through them.

The small pale girl pushed her glasses up but her bangs kept her green eyes hidden when she kept her head down. Jerome's smile grew as she took her seat next to him, his hand joining hers under the table in a silent greeting making a wide smile spread across her doll-like face. The smile that formed on his face turned sinister as his gaze shifted to Barbra. “She could've gotten away with it ya know. Gordon didn’t suspect her but she came clean… she enjoyed it as much as I did." he said as he stared down Barbra while gently rubbing the back of Chance's hand while she lightly played wit his fingers under the table. Barbra noticed a few things as she watched the two. Chance was quiet, she always stayed near Jerome's side, she always did what he asked, and he always watched her and never let anyone harm her. They were the king and queen of Arkham and god help anyone who disrespected the queen.

[starsonconfettilake]

Introducing....The Alternative Girl Band Black Thorn!

a lil sneak peak in one of many gotham wips :D

This band will also appear in both "The Robin's Spade" Fanfic's Arkhamverse & UTRH/DINTF Movierverse

[simpingwriter]

More shit that definitely happened and will happen:

Tim: What do we think of Jerome?

*pause*

Bruce: *sighs after seeing Faith's glare*

...Nice pal, i guess.

Dick: I think he's gay as hell.

Jason: *chokes on Capri-sun*

_______________________

Tim: Don’t you guys read the papers?

Damian: Only the funnies.

Bruce:

Bruce: You mean the obituaries.

Damian: Oh, potato, pohtato…

_______________________

Faith: You ever see something that changes your life and you're just like "huh..."

Jerome: I saw you, beating down a man two times your height for me.

Faith: Honestly that's so cute and sweet but it kinda makes this awkward because I was gonna show you a picture from last year of Jason in a turkey costume.

Jerome: ...no fucking way, show me :0

[knoepfl]

Laugh Until It Hurts

Characters:

Reader – Former circus clown, once joyful and full of light, now twisted by Jerome's relentless manipulation.

Jerome Valeska – Gotham’s notorious madman, obsessed with breaking down Reader's innocence to reveal the darkness underneath.

Trigger Warnings:

themes of psychological manipulation

kidnapping

non-consensual experimentation

loss of identity

mental trauma

Masterlist

Words: 1231

---

You woke up in darkness, the weight of confusion pressing down on your chest as you blinked into the dimness. The room around you felt like a stranger’s nightmare. Bare walls closed in around you, cold and damp, drawing a shiver that clung to your skin, gnawing at your sense of reality.

How long had you been here? Days? Weeks? You couldn’t say. Time had warped into a blur of shadows and insanity. Memories of laughter and light—the circus tent, children’s smiles, the joy you’d once known—felt so distant, they might as well have been someone else’s. You couldn’t even remember what your own smile had looked like.

And he was there, just outside your field of vision. Watching.

“Ahh, my little sunshine is awake!” Jerome’s voice sang through the room, a sickly-sweet tone dripping with mockery. He stepped into the light, his face twisting into a manic grin that stretched his lips wide, a sight that had once belonged to someone familiar but now looked like a mask.

He leaned forward, his sharp green eyes piercing through you as he tilted his head, examining you as if you were some strange insect. “How’s my favorite clown?” His grin widened as he saw you flinch. “Feeling a little dim today, aren’t we?”

You swallowed, trying to ignore the bile rising in your throat. He had always been quiet back at the circus, a boy overshadowed by shadows in his own mind. But you pitied him, tried to offer him comfort, though his gaze always unsettled you. You remembered catching that look a few times back then—too intense, like he was studying you, waiting for something he couldn’t yet name.

But pity had turned into something else entirely the moment he’d dragged you away, chaining you to a world crafted by his sick mind. Jerome had broken down every piece of you, pulling apart your joy and light, tearing through each shred of happiness like it was something he could dissect.

Yet, he wasn’t finished.

“Look at you…” he murmured, leaning close, his breath brushing against your skin. “All that cheer, all that sunshine—gone.” His eyes sparkled with a twisted satisfaction. “You’re a work of art now, my dear. Almost like me.”

“No… not like you,” you mumbled, voice raw and cracked. It felt strange to speak, like trying to remember a song you’d long since forgotten. You barely recognized the sound.

Jerome chuckled, stepping back and watching you with a smirk that made your stomach twist. “You keep saying that,” he mused. “But here you are, right where I want you.” He snapped his fingers in front of your face. “Where *you* belong.”

Your head pounded as memories—real or imagined, you couldn’t tell—flashed through your mind. He’d been relentless, experimenting with your psyche, pushing you to places where darkness crept into the cracks of your mind. He was always watching, waiting for each fracture, every crack in your sanity that brought him closer to his goal.

Some part of you wanted to hate him, to fight back, but the rest of you felt too exhausted, too worn down to remember how.

“Come on,” he said, a dangerous smile spreading over his face. “Let’s see that happy clown of mine. You used to be so good at making people laugh. Let’s show me that beautiful little act.”

You wanted to resist, but some part of you—whatever was left—felt compelled to obey. Your arms lifted, slow and unsteady, as you stretched your mouth into a smile, hollow and fractured. You moved with jerky, exaggerated motions, mimicking the carefree routines you used to perform at the circus, but there was a shadow over it now. Each gesture felt like a distortion of who you’d once been.

And Jerome was delighted.

“There it is!” he crowed, clapping his hands in delight. “The sunshine, the laughter—all twisted up just for me.” His voice was thick with mock adoration, his eyes gleaming with something darker, something possessive. “Oh, I’ve waited so long to see you like this.”

You bit down on your lip, trying to hold back the shudder that threatened to escape. The sting of pain was grounding, a tether to a version of yourself you couldn’t quite let go of. But each day, each twisted performance made it harder to hold on. The old you was slipping, fading into the shadows, a stranger’s memory.

“Jerome…” Your voice was barely a whisper, a ghostly echo of what it used to be. “Why… why are you doing this?”

He cocked his head, feigning confusion, though his grin betrayed his amusement. “Why?” he repeated, chuckling. “Why wouldn’t I? All that joy, that innocence of yours... it was *sickening*. You thought you could pity me, huh? Poor, sad little Jerome?”

His laughter filled the room, loud and unhinged, bouncing off the walls as he leaned closer, his eyes glinting with that wild, uncontrollable energy you’d once thought you understood. “No, sunshine. I didn’t need pity. I needed someone who could see the *truth*.”

You shivered, shrinking back. But even as you tried to retreat, the part of you he’d molded, the piece of you he’d twisted and broken, craved his approval, needed it. That dark, fractured piece felt like it was growing, a sliver of his chaos digging into your mind and taking root.

His voice dropped to a low, menacing whisper as he moved closer, his fingers brushing over your face. “But look at you now,” he purred, his voice a poisonous lullaby. “All broken and beautiful… just for me.”

He caught your chin in his hand, forcing you to look at him, his face inches from yours. “Say it, sunshine,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. “Tell me you’re just like me.”

Your heart pounded, each beat a reminder of what you once were. But the words slipped out anyway, a hollow echo. “I’m… just like you.”

Jerome’s grin widened, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. “There’s my little clown,” he murmured, pulling back with a smirk. “Let’s see that smile.”

With a shuddering breath, you forced yourself to smile, the motion twisted and broken, as though you were wearing someone else’s skin. Jerome’s laughter filled the room once more, his applause loud and mocking as he watched you contort yourself into his perfect little masterpiece.

And there, in that fractured grin, you felt it—the crack in your mind widening, the last piece of yourself slipping away, swallowed by the darkness he’d planted inside you. A new laugh bubbled up in your throat, a low, sinister chuckle that was nothing like the one you used to know.

It was his laugh, echoed through your voice, and Jerome looked like he’d won the world.

“See?” he whispered, almost tenderly. “I knew you had it in you.” He leaned close, his lips brushing your ear as he murmured, “And now, you’re mine.”

His words were like a binding spell, sealing away whatever remnants of joy and innocence you’d once had. But as his laughter filled the room and yours joined it, there was a new sense of freedom, twisted and broken but undeniable. The old you had died in his hands, but something darker had taken its place—something that no longer feared the shadows but reveled in them.

And together, you laughed, the sound twisted and haunting, echoing through the darkness as if it could devour the world.

---

Author’s Note:

Thank you for reading! I wanted to explore a darker, psychological take on Jerome's character and how he could twist the mind of someone who once brought him light. The Reader’s descent into his world represents both a loss of innocence and a transformation that she might not even realize she’s undergone. Jerome’s character is one of manipulation and chaos, so it was interesting to show how he’d "reshape" someone who once pitied him into something that mirrors him. Please feel free to share your thoughts on this twisted journey, and stay safe!

[mysticalarmand]

Part Ten

[wiildthiing]

So I’m here now. Have some ocxcanon :3

[gallavichsfox]

Annoying Valeska.

Selfship content let’s go, first up we have these two.. funny individuals. figured Jerome likes to pester Jay just to get a reaction out of them. cause.. he is a clown after all, right?

[loony-lupus]

Art by @beauty-4-thebeast ❤️

"The hero must suffer"

Annie. A mysterious woman with blood as black as an oil puddle, which, when consumed, makes a person her obedient thrall for a while. A big fan of reading and writing, she dreams of writing a book worthy of the Gotham Chronicles.

And as her main character, she chose Jerome Valeska. It doesn't matter that he's dead - death is no obstacle in this world of science and supernatural mysteries. What matters is that ahead of the unwitting participant in her "story" lies a breakdown of personality, demons of the past, a challenge to his convictions and a deadly confrontation with enemies, including the "main villain" of the story - Jerome's twin brother, who recently angered Annie with his unbearable behavior... But the reward of being Gotham's main joker is too good to refuse such an adventure, right?

What? Not too good? It doesn't matter, because the hero most often has no choice when fate comes to the door and chooses him for the Great Story, which will be read with bated breath by descendants.

And Annie will do everything necessary to keep Jerome from relaxing, even drag him face down on the asphalt and take away everything he holds on to, break his legs so that he crawls, but shows his will and strength of character, because in any interesting story the hero must suffer.

[littlebatsimagines]

The Orphan and the Clown Part 1 (Jerome Valeska x oc)

Masterlist

She sat on the steps of the trailer as she listened to her parents argue inside. The black hair that wasn't covered by her red hood blew in the cool breeze of Keysone City, her piercing green eyes scanning the grounds of the circus as a small sigh escaped her lips. After a bit the arguing died down so she got up and began to walk the grounds. Keeping her head down was always best, it kept her out of trouble and others from looking at her too closely, well it almost always kept her out of trouble but tonight fate wouldn’t be so kind.

The girl ran into someone's chest and fell. “Sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going!” she said quickly, her voice quiet and childish. “It’s ok…I wasn't watching either. Here let me help you up." A boy said as he took her small hand and helped her up easily. “Oh, thank you. I'm Chance by the way.” she said quietly as she moved her hood so she could look up at the tall boy with red hair and blue eyes. “I’m Jerome, my mom is the snake dancer.” he said offering Chance a small smile. “I know, I see you with the snake sometimes" she said letting her hood fall to reveal her shoulder length black hair. “So if you don’t mind me asking…uh…why are you out here in the cold?” he asked running his fingers through his hair nervously. “Oh..um m-my parents are arguing…again…I don't really know what to do with myself so I just make myself scarce, ya know?” chance said moving her bangs from her glasses. Jerome couldn't help but notice how innocent and doll-like this girl looked. Chance had the appearance that she wouldn't hurt a fly…then again so did he. The ginger shook his head after realizing he had been staring. “Would you like to hang out at my trailer...my mom isn't there so it'll be quiet." he said making a big bright smile grow on her face. “I’d like that, thank you.”

4 years later

“J, you can't keep letting her treat you like this." Chance said as she gently placed an icepack on Jerome's shoulder. “She won’t get away with it forever doll." he said before kissing her gently and putting his forhead to hers as the two sat there in silence. Chance let out a sigh as her mind wondered. The two of them had met four years ago and in that time they became best friends and now lovers, not that anyone turned their attention to them enough to notice. Lyla’s name calling had cause many fights between between the mother and son but Jerome had insisted on keeping Chance close, especially after her parents left without a word one night after a show. Chance looks at Jerome and gently rubbed his check. “Come on, let’s get to bed” he muttered as he pulled her down on to the couch with him.

Chance was shaken awake to see Jerome standing over her with anger and annoyance. “J? What's wrong?” she asked tiredly. “We are going to take care of Lyle." he said as a twisted smile grew on his face and he chuckled darkly.

☆ ҉ ◢▅◣Ξ◥▅◤Ξ◢▅◣Ξ◥▅◤ ҉ ★

A/n: so this is a reupload/edit of one of my first ever works The Orphan and the Clown. This story was originally posted on Wattpad but I figured I'd bring it over here for you guys as well as fix it up and add to it! Hope you all enjoy!!

Much love,

Bats

[everythingnerdyxoxo]

Clowning Around - Jerome x OC - Gotham

Summary: Sharlena is an ordinary nursing student living in Gotham. What happens when she encounters the escaped Arkham patients on her usual morning route?

Pairing: Jerome x OC - Gotham

Chapter Three

Sharlena lay silently on the mattress, staring up at the discoloured tiles on the ceiling above. They would be announcing her to Gotham today. Telling the city that she was their hostage. They now called themselves The Maniax.

It had been hours since they had brought her here. Aaron was still playing absently with her hair beside her, he was a dominating presence, she was afraid to move even an inch to anger him. She could tell who was in charge though. Jerome.

There seemed to be a constant power battle between Jerome, Arnold, and Robert. The latter stared at her constantly, grinning manically and salivating as if he could serve her to them on a plate. He must be the cannibal.

Arnold absently spoke for most of the time, filling the silence but frustrating the other men. Jerome himself was pacing up and down the flat, giving her fleeting glances, a curious look on his features.

‘Why don’t we just get on with it, we don’t need their permission to do something reckless!’ Robert spoke out against Jerome; their tension seemed the most hostile.

‘Alas we have our orders; we can’t do anything without the theatrics we need!’ Jerome was very animated in the way he spoke, using his arm gestures and manic smile to dominate any conversation.

There was a growing anger between the men, a growing impatience. A knock at the door broke the tension. A growing hope in Sharlena as she thought to be saved.

The door opened and in came two beautiful women. She recognised Barbara Kean as one of the escapees of Arkham Asylum, but the dark-haired woman was a mystery to her.

‘Time to go guys, we don’t have all day.’ The unknown woman stood at the door, a bored expression, disgust lacing her features as she looked between them all.

Barbara had crossed the room towards her, a quizzical look on her face. Aaron had sat her up, standing now behind Barbara, gaining an affectionate touch from the blonde woman.

Sharlena looked at Barbara in the eye, flicking between her and Jerome, who was stood behind her, a possessive looks on his face as he gazed back at her.

‘You got yourselves a cute one!’ Barbara crouched down to her, gripping her chin roughly as she came close to her. ‘Were going to have some fun with you.’ She laughed as she spoke. Sharlena felt the panic creep into her chest, looking back to Jerome with a frightened look in her eyes.

Jerome looked between her and Barbara quizzically, an almost concerned look on his face before grasping one of Sharlena’s arms and pulling her to her feet. Barbara looked to him with an almost angry expression at the disturbance. Jerome flashed her one of his manic smiles before coming close to Sharlena’s face.

‘Time for the show blondie.’ He gave her another manic smile, a softer one before pulling her towards the door and back to the van.

[simpingwriter]

Jerome Valeska

x

Faith Wayne/Phoenix

'All you need is

a bit of Faith'

pt.9

___________________

Phoenix takes Jerome for a ride and soon after beats in some faces, to be able to give the pretty ginger his second lesson of the day.

And does the boy slowly start to find his voice again thanks to Phoenix's lead?

Enjoy! :)

Word Count: approx. 3.600 Words

___________________

You left through the front door of the Apartment with Jerome, like a decent human being for once and not through the window again. Once out of the apartment building, you enter the most recent, possible addresses into your watch, activating the GPS of it that's connected to your personal "Batcycle". Though Dick is right with his opinion, that it's less a BATcycle than a Phoenixcycle. But the latter sounds incredibly stupid, so you stick with your dad's version for it until you're grazed with the right name during a warm shower.

Wordlessly, you start to cross the street, Jerome following close behind, tagging along with blind trust. Of course you pulled out a different pair of your shorts beforehand, still having been unable to find the strength to NOT stare straight downwards when he isn't looking. And if even you lost this battle, how would other women or certain men without your training of self-control react??

Jerome is just about to ask you where you're taking him, until with the press of a button on the screen of the same watch, you uncover the hiding spots of your previously cloaked vehicle.

"Wait…we're taking the Batcycle?!" Not THE batcycle, one of them, but yes. That's why you made him take the helmet, because while you gave two rat's nasty shitholes about helmets, you didn't want him to hurt himself in case his grip grows weak or you accidentally forget he's on as well and take a corner too sharp. Has all happened before and with every time something along the kind happened, you loved helmets more and more for existing.

You and Damian still have a secret that you keep from your dad, preferably taking it to each of your graves, about how you two went on Patrol together and he practically begged you on his knees – yes, you're still talking about Damian, the Gremlin you call your half-brother – to take him for a ride during it, since he of course wasn't allowed to drive himself yet, having been 12 years only at that point of the event.

And since he weighs basically nothing while on the bike, you…well…you kinda forgot he is on there and while you took a corner so tight it turned into you drifting, you only heard him shout your name a few meters already behind you.

Damian fell off your motorcycle that night, thankfully besides a few scratches nothing happened, but damn, you BOTH almost shat your costumes that patrol, yes even Damian, the kid that argues that he fears nothing. He fears your driving style since then.

"Yes we are, that's the helmet for. Put it on and hurry up. The longer we wait, the more time he has to find out that nothing happens to him…well, law-wise. A broken rib or two? Yeah, he won't escape THAT." He is quick to nod and follow your instructions, letting you get on first, watching with constant interest as you sit down on your cape. If you didn't, chances were high he gets smacked by it…and falls off. And still, you wanted to avoid that. 

Once you give him the okay, he carefully sits behind you, but you help out a bit when he hesitates about holding onto you. "I don't bite…too hard...i mean, unless you want me to leave a mark." You tease, looking over your shoulder with a toothy, mischievous grin after you made sure that he held on tightly. "Do NOT ease your grip, if anything, hold on even tighter if you're worried. And tell me when I'm going too fast for you." While you couldn't see it, because of the helmet, the shaking of his hands and his nod told you enough of his current mood: two inches away from shitting enough bricks to remodel Wayne Manor. But you didn't know if it was because of the ride alone, since the Batcycle isn't exactly slow – Your Dad's, yours and those of your siblings all got equal Speed – or maybe even from the close proximity right now?

He did after all even flinch from you just touching his thigh as Faith back in Jim's Car yesterday. Was it that far off to think that he simply isn't used to getting touched, or at least, getting touched without it leaving a bruise or a cut afterwards? What a depressing thought and possibility...but you could understand it. Been like that when you were still young and had only recently been taking in by your Father and Alfred as well, flinching and dodging at every moment you felt their hands coming even close to you. It took a whole year for you to lose all your physical restraint, to actively hug Dad or Alfred, and respectively your adoptive brothers as well.

"Relax, everything is going to be fine." But no matter how serious and honest your words were meant, they wouldn't just erase all the former pain he went through like that, and you knew that, it didn't erase all of yours back then either. You wished they had, that you would've let dad in earlier. Because now that you knew of the dangers of not only his but also now your...life...you were made aware of how quickly you could lose the people you cared for the most.

You still remembered the day the Joker killed Jason, like it was yesterday, the pain of hearing the news from Dad...

Following the GPS through the streets, you kept your eyes out for anything of similar suspicion in different alleyways and so on. After all you're still on Patrol either way, though Day-Patrols usually were much much calmer than the more common night ones. Since Gotham's Criminal Underworld Slime more often crawled out of their holes at night, so it wasn't much use to do Patrols during daylight. With more and more time spent on the bike, you felt Jerome slightly relax into it. And with that, you didn't mean the ride itself, no, that clearly still had him on the edge.

You meant the close body contact. He seemed much more alright with actively holding onto you now, pressing himself into your smaller back, his arms wrapped around your waist, presumably to not have to witness the actual levels of speed your bodies currently traveled at. Good news for him and "his" underwear – thank the gods for you owning some boxershorts for comfort's sake – then that you reached the first address, and from the noise coming from one of the warehouses, it seems like you had hit the right spot on the first try. Unusual but you wouldn't turn your nose at that. "You good?" You turn to ask him once you get off the motorcycle, concealing it once more like earlier. Despite the jacket you gave him, he shook. So he couldn't push onto the fact that he was cold.

He was probably scared shitless from the whole ride, so you were quick to pull the helmet off of his head with some gentleness that was rare for Phoenix, placing it into the nearest bush for departure later before coming back to the ginger, watching him try to tame his now wild ginger locks, "You drive like a maniac..." Well, duh…you got places to be, you don't have the time to stop at red lights or remember traffic rules, "...Would you rather drive then?" That made him slightly frown at you, crossing his arms, "Me and which driver's license?" Which made you laugh almost too loud for the current situationand place you're in, throwing your head back before you calmed yourself down again, "Good…good fucking joke. You think I got an official license?? Never made one...yet, but the GCPD knows that I can drive and that it's the last thing on my list of intentions to hurt innocent people while driving." Plus, while you ignored some basic rules for driving regularly, like driving on the wrong side and so on…you knew them, you knew them very well. 

You drove like a normal person when in Gotham as your normal self too, you just don't get pulled aside because the Police knows you – still meaning Faith in that case – that you're basically the left hand of Gordon. And someone who works for the Commissioner has to have a license, right?! Nah. You're lucky that they are that naive, and at the same time, it worries you about the general intelligence the officers have…

"You don't have one?" "Learned how to drive from my dad, Red Hood and Batman." One of the "three" was a horrible teacher for driving. No, it's not Batman.

Usually it was Alfred who taught every Robin how to handle the vehicles you get to use during Patrols, but when it was your turn, Alfred had just broken his arm due to a soapy mistake from Jason trying to clean up in the kitchen. So of course, as punishment – which indirectly ended up being one for you as well, as one might deduct from your driving skill/style – it became Jason's stand-in job to teach you the basics. Worst decision…well one of them…your dad ever made.

The absolute worst was fucking your hellspawn of a mother nearly 19 years ago, creating you in the process, but that's a different kind of subject for a different kind of day. Definitely not fitting for today.

"I'm guessing your connections to the GCPD kept you on the street for that long?" Jerome went on to ask as you two crossed the street to get to the warehouses lined up at the riverside, "Hit the nail on the head, yeah." Then, you signal him to keep quiet from now on, to stay back further until you gave him the sign that he could come in. You didn't need him to get hurt because you dragged him into gunfire and overly aggressive Gang Members. To that came that you needed all your focus on defending yourself already, having to split your attention on keeping him fucking alive would put you into danger as well.

Once you have managed to stash the boy away behind some crates outside the warehouse, you pull out your grapple gun from the tool belt, aiming at the roof's edge. "See you in a bit, pretty boy." Of course you had to drop that nickname again, who would you be if you didn't tease him every five minutes to watch the blood shoot back up into his face and his dark green eyes widen with shock. 

Though this time you didn't get much time to admire the effect your words had on him, already getting pulled up to the roof when you finished speaking to him, using your hands to pull yourself up the edge at the end before slowly making your way over to one of the few roof access hatches. You had so many encounters in so many building types and places, that you knew some of the ways they were built better than you knew what kind of clothes you owned. The latter was getting out of control anyways, you need to clean up again soon-

Shaking your head, you get back to the actual problem at hand, dropping down through the hatch onto one of the horizontal metal beams holding the warehouse together and stable during storms. From up here, you had the perfect view downwards to the culprits of all that noise, two separate groups in the middle of a deal.

And with them? The suspect, visibly anxious from his body language. He still thought that he was in danger after the day you caught him at the crime scene. Why the hell did he return anyways if it was a crime related to Penguin and not a personal one? Usually these types of murders don't result in the killer returning, but instead in reporting his actions to whomever he worked for, for protection in case of repercussions. Repercussions in the form of a vigilante's fist, foot or weapon.

…

What if it wasn't a Penguin-related murder but actually personal?

Just because he worked for that short, stumbling umbrella obsesses prick, doesn't mean every crooked thing he does is for the Penguin, as Cobblepot had a thing for taking henchmen that already weren't "innocent little boys" to begin with. Usually they had their history with law enforcement before, or even the Vigilantes if they and their bones were unfortunate…

The deal itself was common, but currently doing its rounds at the many riverside warehouses again more than elsewhere: Gun Trades, of course. Let's hope only the ones they're holding are loaded. Then again, whoever the second group is from are from and the Penguin are not exactly friends of their henchmen using the guns, "the precious ware", in trade without explicit Permission from either one of the "Bosses". The day you take fucking Oswald Cobblepot serious is the day your life takes a healthy turn, you'll start a family and all. Fuck, as of you get to settle down, ever. Especially with the conscious knowledge keeping you awake that these criminals will have field day with the day you "retire", just like with anyone else that was part of your crime-fighting family.

But that will never happen, so no kids pulling at your pant legs, constantly endangered by your second life at night. At least something you can be certain of is that Cobblepot will always stay a goddamn joke in your eyes. One easily killed Joke, but your Dad of course doesn't let you, because it's against the rules he taught you all, even Jason. While he is right, and you kept to that rule...mostly, it was also such a goddamn…Bore.

Spying out the deal from above, you pinned down the actual number of threats, and calculated how many would potentially run away. The suspect would belong to that group, from what you watched, as he was obviously still very jumpy as you previously deducted. But you couldn't have that, he was the main target in all of this, you needed him here, you needed him conscious.

So a smoke bomb it was.

As soon as it hits the ground, dispersing the light powder inside all around its usual area, you put on your mouth guard against it. "Well hello there, boys! So sorry I had to blow up your little get-together…by the way, you still know each other from school by any chance?!" Was your witty remark, having jumped down to take out the first two with your feet, their short lived grunts your good to go before you continue with the others.

From the corner of your eyes, you saw the main target of yours trying to slip away by using the chaos that now broke out, which was quickly hindered by a quick hip-aimed fire of your gun. Non lethal rubber bullets, just like Jason, of course. But they were still very much capable of fracturing bones and internal bleeding if used right or…"wrong".

The howl coming from the target indicated a fracture though, or at least, he wouldn't be able to run anymore when you checked up on him and he still laid in the same spot, whimpering to himself while holding his hit leg.

Reholstering the gun, you turned back to his friends, immediately getting to dodge their blind attempts at swinging their fists into you or with their makeshift weapons of…oh yeah…yeah…crowbars. Everyone's not favorite. 

Swiftly you kick some of them out of their hands, the metal clanking across the warehouse floor. Can't they just give up for once? You're not here for them anyways!

Not two minutes later, the smoke bomb finally settled again, you had incapacitated every one of them, using some zip ties for now to hold them here till you had informed the GCPD. That left only one.

"...seems like you're the last one for me to deal with, huh?" You call out with a lazy grin, taking your time walking over to him as you re-pocket the flare you didn't need, knowing there was nowhere to run for him. "Jerome! You can come in now!!" Was the next thing you shout, already dragging the complaining man behind you to one of the other metal beams that support the weight of the roof.

Turns out, he was already watching anyway, coming out from behind the massive warehouse door, mouth hanging wide open as he stared at the aftermath of your fiery encounter, the smellof singed clothes and plastic hanging in the air. "Holy shit…that was so fucking badass!" He exclaims, unfreezing from his shock, covering ground while stepping unfazed over the unconscious bodies of the criminals. "Didn't I tell you to stay behind the crates?" "Well…yeah.. but-" "You got too curious?" He nods sheepishly, expecting you to stay angry at him, just like his mother would have probably. But why should you, it wasn't too dangerous, they didn't have any guns besides the ones in the crates. If anything: he finally seems to find his own free will in himself again, something that was stripped away forcefully from him when he grew up. Curiosity is important to an extent, especially for self growth. But usually that's a lesson for kids...not an almost 19 year old boy.

"It's fine, come here and help me, we need to tie him against this beam…" you order, motioning him over with your head and holding out another zip tie to him. "W-what do you fucking want from me?!" The man asks with a stutter in his voice, clearly very aware of how fucked he was the same moment he knew it was Phoenix who blew up whatever weapons deal was about to happen here. "Eh…just some answers to some questions. In exchange…hmm…" you act like you're thinking about it for a moment, until you grin at him, menacingly. Because who are you shitting here, you and Jerome knew exactly what you would press against him.

The sole reason you looked for him, this pain in the ass!

"In exchange, I won't drag you with my bike all the way across the pavement of Gotham to the precinct for the Commissioner himself to deal with you…I know what you did, you're behind the murder at the Asylum two weeks ago." With a tone that erased any chance of him suspecting that you were technically just guessing. But to be fair, it was pretty certain it was him. "W-wh-what?!" Here comes the denia- "How did you find out it was me?!" Or not. Huh. 

Then he scoffs, grasping his last bit of confidence it felt like as he looks you directly into your masked white eyes, "You work with Batman, you're nothing but one of his stupid Sidekicks, you can't- AHHH!" Okay, so maybe mild intimidation won't pull here today (plus no one calls you a sidekick), so without much of a warning, you had pulled back your leg quickly. And kicked with full strength into his upper ribs, watching him ring for air in his lungs now, spit dripping from his mouth as he coughs. Soon the tears followed and you grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, getting close and personal.

"With the help of a little bird, saw you at the crime scene about…three days ago? They were kind enough to give me your description to…deal…with you." Cracking your knuckles loudly at the end, starting the mild intimidation for now as he was already breathing heavily. Hyperventilating and passed out, he would be of no use to you.

"Listen, you small fry fool, never think that just because me and the others aren't the Bat himself that we can't deal the same terrible cards as him. Now I recommend following my rules by spilling what your tiny little pea brain has stored up there…and I won't indebt you with a mile long hospital bill after I'm done with you." Was your hissed threat, throwing him back against the ground and metal beam, his head bouncing off the latter. 

You would be here for quite a while if he was as stubborn as he made himself out to be-

"Fine…fine…i- i-i'll talk!" Booo, what a boring ass show, next channel...

Frowning, you kneel down to his current height, shaking your head, "You guys really know how to ruin one's fun, damn. Well fine then, I will take you for your word…" looking up to Jerome, you stand back up, take a few steps back and cross your arms. "I'll start with an easy one: Was the murder Cobblepot's order? …or was it personal?" Because if it actually turned out to be because of a personal dispute with the victim, you could still bring him in to Gordon.

Sure, you just said you wouldn't. But that was in case it's the first option you gave him with this question…plus that meant you wouldn't drag him behind your batcycle. It was a huge mistake to take everything you specifically said at face value, having taken a liking to be a bit of a deceiver and trickster towards people that had a negative standing with you. Yeah okay, you did that with your Brothers too every once in a while. Just to mess with them though.

Jerome first looked a bit surprised at the second question, since he thought you were certain that it was a job done for the Penguin. But clearly that wasn't the case anymore as you glare at the man.

"...That man was my brother."

Oh dear. Fratricide. Flavorful murder.

Didn't answer your actual question though, so with one boot getting placed on his already hurting ankle, you lean over him against the beam, "But was it for the Penguin, fucking hell!" "NO! That…that bastard fucked my sister!" Wait, wait, wait...what? His sister? But they were brothers. "You mean-" "He was ADOPTED! Now please...my foot!!!" Following his pitiful plea, you take your own foot off of his, still glaring at him, "Fine…"

What could you ask nex-

"Is the Penguin having any other similar deals like this soon?" Was that just…Jerome? Eyebrows pulled up as high as they possibly could be, you half turn towards the ginger, who looked like he tried so hard to seem tough. He did a bit, but he still looked like a partially kicked puppy, standing a bit awkward behind you. But unexpected or not, it drew a smile on your formerly cold, more calculated face. Once you knew that he saw your silent approval of his sudden decision to speak up, you're facing the man again.

"What he asked. Speak, or I fuck up your second ankle and make you walk a mile or two." Maybe ten. Depends on your mood to hurt criminals without killing them. That must've sounded anything but fun to him, you don't even know why, and he shook his head violently, "N-NO ANYTHING BUT THAT! I...rather fry in Blackgate …Penguin...he made some of his higher men plan a heist on Gotham's Main Centre Bank. It's supposed to happen any week next month, but nothing specific has been dated yet…please…p-please, I don't know anymore!" More? He knew of a planned heist, even if not exactly when, but it's going to be enough for the Batcomputer back home. That and hearing out some more of the said higher-ups in Cobblepot's ranks. An easy job for everyone.

"Jerome, call the GCPD, to come pick up the crooks around us." You tell the ginger while kneeling down to take the man off the metal beam, throwing your phone into his fumbling arms. He did so immediately, explaining the situation, and without having to tell him, he let's it sound like he is a civilian that came across these men already out cold. Such a good boy he is. Don't good boys deserve a little treat?

"Wait? Where are you taking me?" "The Precinct." Was the only thing you said for now, re-doing his zipties once getting him onto his one healthy foot, dragging him forward until you reached Jerome. "You thought ahead, didn't tell them you're with me, pretty boy." And before he could reply to that, you pull him down by the old baggy t-shirt of yours he wore now, placing a near feather-light kiss on the corner of his lips, his eyes widening like saucers, before getting back to the main task at hand and walking past him to get back to the Batcycle. 

"Are you coming or not?" "...O-of course, Phoenix!" Not just a good boy. A good boy that's pretty and smart.

[knoepfl]

DC Masterlist

Here is the DC Masterlist! Here I will post everything about DC! So if your a fan be sure to keep checking this Masterlist. I will show updates as soon as possible!

Last Updated: 20.05 25

Main Masterlist

Characters: Arthur Fleck, Heath Ledger, Jeremiah Valeska, Jerome Valeska, Jervis Tetch, Jonathan Crane, Oswald Cobblepot, Edward Nygma, Viktor Zsasz

✧ The Joker

✧ Arthur Fleck

A Warm Embrace

Beyond the Mask

A Night of Firsts

Bang Bang

A Cozy Christmas

A Fleeting Fantasy

Part 1

Part 2

A Christmas Dance with Arthur

Christmas Feelings Christmas Special 7/24

Painted in Red

✧ Gotham Series

✧ Edward Nygma

The Riddle of Us

✧ Jeremiah Valeska

Pain and Pleasure

✧ Jerome Valeska

Laugh Until It Hurts

Guess Who's Back!

✧ Jervis Tetch

Down the Rabbit Hole

Madness in Mourning

Trapped in Wonderland

Mad as Love

Madly Festive Christmas Special 4/24

Through the Eyes of Madness

✧ Oswald Cobblepot

A Kid For Christmas Christmas Special 14/24

✧ Viktor Zsasz

Stolen Shot

✧ The Dark Knight

✧ Heath Ledger

Unraveled Dreams, Twisted Love

✧ Batman: The Animated Series

✧Jervis Tetch

Tea for Two

A Very Merry Unbirthday Christmas Christmas Special 12/24

A Wonderland of Our Own Christmas Special 18/24

✧ Jonathan Crane

Shadows of Fear

✧ Arkham Games

✧ Edward Nygma

Mind Games

The Riddler's Reward

✧ Jervis Tetch

Through the Looking Glass

Down the Rabbit Hole

Tea Time Consolation

[queenlakiefer]

Masterlist

Finally creating a masterlist for all my stories and imagines (junk) 🥳.

The Lost Boys (1987)

1. Imagine if Lucy was Married to Max and being the caring mother, she asks if Max has given The Lost Boys money

2. One of the reasons The Lost Boys got kicked off the boardwalk

3. If The Lost Boys were in high school

4. When Paul gets high Part 1

5. When Paul gets high Part 2

6. Imagine if Marko was flirting with his next meal who is sitting down and she stands up and is taller than him

7. I Guess You’ll Never Know Part 1

8. Max has ranted like this at The Lost Boys after one of their shenanigans and you can’t tell me otherwise 🤣

9. The Price of Salvation (F!OC Michael’s Twin Sister Oneshot)

Woman Wanted (1999)

1. Wendell Goddard x Reader Part 1

2. Wendell Goddard x Reader Part 2

3. A Safe Haven

Gotham

1. Imagine Jerome teasing Bruce Wayne about his older sister

2. Imagine Bruce’s older sister working at Arkham as a nurse and Oswald reaches out for help

3. Don’t Be A Cog (Jerome Valeska x Reader)

4. Theo Galavan seems to have gotten himself rather badly injured after killing Jerome.

5. Imagine Jerome developing a conscience…well…almost.

6. Imagine trying to explain to Jerome what a proper April Fools’ joke is...

7. Pretty sure Jerome wishing you a ‘Happy Birthday’ would go something like this...

8. The Last Straw (Jerome Valeska x Reader)

9. The Lady and The Circus Boy (Jerome Valeska x Reader)

PART 2

10. Your Name…is Harleen Quinzel (Jerome Valeska x Reader)

11. Imagine going with your father and Bullock to question Mr. Cicero

The Cowboy Way (1994)

Coming soon

Dark City (1996)

Coming soon

1969 (1988)

Coming soon

The Brotherhood of Justice

Coming soon

Promised Land

Coming soon

[mysticalarmand]

Part Seven