Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/11776707.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Gotham_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Oswald_Cobblepot/Edward_Nygma, Gertrud_Kapelput/Elijah_Van_Dahl, Harvey
      Bullock/Jim_Gordon
  Character:
      Jonathan_Crane, Ivy_Pepper_(Gotham), Victor_Zsasz, Victor_Fries, Gertrud
      Kapelput, Selina_Kyle, Bruce_Wayne, Alfred_Pennyworth, Jim_Gordon, Harvey
      Bullock, Kristen_Kringle, Isabella_(Gotham), Elijah_Van_Dahl, Fish
      Mooney, Bridgit_Pike, Sid_(Gotham)
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe, Alternate_Universe_-_Addams_Family_Fusion, Explicit
      Language, Implied/Referenced_Child_Abuse, Implied/Referenced_Self-Harm,
      Implied/Referenced_Drug_Addiction, Murder, Magic, Dark_Magic, Explicit
      Sexual_Content, Implied_Sexual_Content, Anal_Sex, Implied/Referenced
      Underage_Sex, Cutting, Choking, Mental_Health_Issues, Canon_Autistic
      Character, Pedophilia, Implied/Referenced_Rape/Non-con
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-08-11 Updated: 2017-12-29 Chapters: 7/? Words: 11800
****** Becoming an Addams Family Cousin ******
by YaoiLoverForLife
Summary
     The Kapelputs are the German cousins of the Addams family. This was
     based on a dream I had.
***** Marrying into the Madness *****
Chapter Notes
     The story of how Edward became a Kapelput
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Edward Kapelput-Addams was born Edward Nashton, the son of a drunk factory
worker and a bitter store clerk with crushed dreams of becoming an actress.
Both of his parents were born and raised in the same small town that Edward
himself was born in. His childhood was not the happiest as he was the anvil
that crushed his mother's dreams of being famous and was never deemed an
acceptable son by his father.
At age sixteen he had graduated high school early despite his father's claims
that he was cheater, a liar, and a retard, and left his town forever. Like a
caterpillar becoming a butterfly Edward emerged from that hell as Edward Nygma.
Except, his butterfly was more of a moth, unwanted and un-admired for dully
colored wings. He got a scholarship to Gotham U and became a forensics
scientist at the GCPD.
He thought he was doomed to forever remain invisible except to those who sought
to mock him. Then he met Kristen Kringle, and while she never seemed to return
his affections she was never as rude as the officers he was forced to associate
with on a daily basis. Then due some unpleasant events surrounding Ms.
Kringle’s current boyfriend (at the time, she had so many at the precinct,
never staying single long), Ed found himself defending her against his abusive
ways. He knew there was a reason he despised the officers at the GCPD, they
were all just like his father. However, the altercation ended with him stabbing
the man, for self-defense, and because the bastard deserved it.
"Well," he shrugged, "at least I know how to get rid of evidence." So, with a
dark smile Ed collected the officer’s body, and damn he was heavy, and went
about his business of chopping the corpse into smaller more manageable pieces.
Ed had always had darker impulses and thoughts, perhaps that’s why he was
interested in forensics and medical examinations. Nobody questioned someone
performing an autopsy, that was fine; but dissecting road kill in the shed when
he was eight was abnormal. Either way after his father found out he insured Ed
never did anything so, “Damn creepy and weird, you little fucking psychopath!”.
He hadn’t understood then, and he didn’t now, why what he did was so wrong. He
hurt her, had hurt him, so he had killed him. It only seemed right. So he was
rather put out when Kristen did not appreciate his act of devotion and his
willingness to protect her upon learning of his crime. One rather disturbing
argument later, in which she might as well have been his father for the things
she called him, she was dead. He hadn't meant to kill her, or to hide her body
at the GCPD. Hurt and anger had welled in his heart at how ungrateful she acted
toward him for protecting her, and the dark voice in his head said he needed to
shut her up before she got him arrested.  
So he did, and she lay dead in his arms. He'd only meant to stop her from
running, to get her to calm down. He could explain if she just calmed down, now
she was dead, too calm, too quiet. He almost wished she was still alive to
yell, to hate him, to call the police. Almost. His darker voice urged him not
to cry, she didn’t deserve him, didn’t understand him. He wasn’t crazy, he
wasn’t sick. She and his bastard father didn’t know a damn thing about him.
With a sigh he packed her into the backseat of his car and drove to work at two
AM, he’d had such high hopes for her and in the end she was a disappointment
too.
He found himself unable to part with her hand after finding it lodged in the
vending machine, so he preserved it, perfectly manicured and red painted nails
and all. Then one day he met Oswald Cobblepot. He knew who he really was
though, everyone knew the Addamses, a clan of people so strange they could
scarcely be considered human. They had fascinated Edward in his youth and to
have a Kapelput, a cousin of the Addamses standing in the GCPD was too good an
opportunity to pass up.
And now four years later Edward stood in his robe and house slippers, Kristen's
reanimated hand perched on his shoulder, staring down at his beloved husband.
Laying in their giant four poster bed, on silk sheets, in their family’s manor.
"Look at him Kristen, I would die for him. I have killed for him, and would
again.......Either way, what bliss," he sighed as Oswald's eyes fluttered open.
"Liebling," he purred, making Ed shiver.
“Mica mea pasăre,” He replied.
“Oh, liebe, that was Romanian,” Oswald moaned. Ed smiled and crawled into bed
with his husband pressing passionate kisses up his arm to his shoulder, across
his collar bones, and neck, leaving bruises in his wake. He finally raised his
head to press his lips to his husbands, right hand curling around the smaller
man's exposed hipbone. Oswald's hand tightened in his hair pulling him down
further.
"Oh, Edward, last night you were a beast. Untamed, unhinged, you frightened
me."
Edward growled in response, dragging his fingernails across his lovers chest
and soothing the red lines with his tongue.
"Do it again," the older man purred, watching with an adoring smile as Edward
stripped and slid under the sheets.
Needless to say the mayor and his chief of staff were late to work that day.
Chapter End Notes
     Mica mea pasăre-My little bird
     liebe-love
     liebling-darling
***** Loving Someone Different; The Story of How it Began *****
Chapter Summary
     The story of how Gertrud came to Gotham and fell in love
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
If there was one thing Gertrud had learned during her long life it was this;
everyone was different and different made you a target. That was the sad truth
if life, not the overly optimistic saying that being different was good and
made you special. By that logic everyone was special and the popular idols
revered by history were no better than a beggar in the streets.
Though, in Gertrud's opinion, the beggar and the rich man were both human and
shared all the faults and the impending mortality that all humans do. The only
difference is the rich man could afford to cover those faults and live
comfortably until his demise. Gertrud herself had the insight of both the
beggar and the heiress, and while she had scraped by in Gotham and was no
longer a beggar it wasn't until many years later she could call herself a rich
woman again.
Gertrud Kapelput-Addams was born in a great manor house in Germany and enjoyed
a wealthy upbringing. As she grew older she realized that her childhood
differed from the other children of high social standing. The whispers of the
townsfolk and the damning accusations of the priests had been both a thorn in
her heart and a warm ember of amusement. As a relative of the Addams the word
“witch” was often heard and just as often was an accurate description as well
as a compliment to those being accused.
Until the consequences fell upon them. Gertrud herself had been taught from a
young age all manner of spells and hexes and was just as likely to be brewing a
potion or poison in the kitchen as she was to be making a stew. With the
arrival of more modern times came the lower number of witch burnings, hangings,
angry mobs, torture chambers, (though torture was still used in some countries
it was nothing like the horrors Gertrud had fallen asleep listening to.), and
men armed with holy water and sharpened crosses. Though firing squads,
exorcisms, and the death penalty still posed threats to those like them. And
the asylums, both despicable and fascinating in all their inhumane practices
and Gothic buildings.
And like all Addamses the threat of these things added a thrill to what they
would consider everyday activities such as; buried alive, wake the dead, “and
how much blood do you really need?”. Most in her family when faced with any of
those dreadfully beautiful and horrendously painful things would smile and
titter with morbid glee, and to some extent so could Gertrud. Being an only
child she had relied on her mother, her oma, Hilde Kapelput (Originally Hilde
Addams thus the Kapelput-Addams), and her father's automatons; clockwork
creatures that ran on steam and clanked loudly through the halls of the manor
as their featureless faces and spindly limbs completed various chores, for
amusement.
Occasionally her pursuit of entertainment would lead her to tormenting the
neighbor children with things like worms in their tea sandwiches, showing up
covered in animal blood and soaking them in it as well, and throwing ashes and
soot onto their nice pastel dresses. But most of her childhood was spent in the
desolate courtyard of her family’s manor, waltzing with her father’s creations
over cracked concrete, through patches of dying and withered flowers, and mazes
of grotesque statues dedicated to deceased members of the family.
When she wasn’t outside enjoying the meager sunlight she was seated at her
oma’s feet, listening to her tell stories of eldritch monsters and other
dastardly creatures. Her oma taught her spells and hexes and knew the answer to
almost any question Gertrud could come up with. Her mother specialized in
potions and poisons and when Gertrud was finally old enough to be in the
kitchens, (toddlers and nightshade leaves were always a dangerous combination),
she preferred to spend chilly winter mornings and even more bitterly cold
nights in there with her mother. As far as Addamses went her childhood was
normal, until one of oma’s harvest rituals went wrong.
A little too much wine and some rather rude comments about her family was all
it took to have Hilde running through the streets naked, burning as she went.
The head priest had gone out to do something about the, “Hexe,” only to get the
edge of his robe caught in the fire. The details of what happened next were
obscure as no one was close enough to see it clearly but it appeared as if the
priest had tried to grab Hilde and knock the torch from her hand and spilled
wine on them both. The liquor caught and they both went up in flames, Hilde
cackling all the while.
The church pressed charges and the city too, for damages caused by the fire,
and the Kapelputs were forced to leave. By this time Gertrud was seventeen and
ready to make her way in the world, so while her father and mother sought
refuge with his brother in Austria, Gertrud departed for America, where she
knew other Addamses resided. Once again she found that her family’s strangeness
drew anger and suspicion from those who considered themselves normal. So after
a rousing party to give Fester a proper send off she departed again, and found
her place in Gotham.
She’d heard once that this city was a shining beacon of wealth and safety and
while it was no longer the golden city of its heyday it wasn’t terribly
unpleasant. Besides, the great looming Gothic architecture made her feel like
she was home again. For a few years she worked odd jobs here and there as a
barmaid and a waitress, all the time wondering what would happen if just a drop
of cyanide made it to her customers. Then something remarkable happened, at the
age of twenty she applied as a kitchen worker for the Van Dahl family and the
moment she laid eyes on Elijah Van Dahl she felt her black heart leap for joy.
Having realized the name of Addams would garner her no favour she presented
herself only as Gertrud Kapelput and decided she would do her best to not let
her…..curious upbringing show. And to an extent she succeeded until she
overheard one of the other servants planning on stealing from Mrs. Van Dahl.
That night she sprinkled some aconite, more commonly known as wolfsbane into
the other serving girls tea. Just enough to make her feel nauseous and cause
minor heart palpitations. Unknowingly Elijah Van Dahl watched from around the
corner, having come to the kitchens to admire her beauty. The next day the task
of polishing the silver and cleaning the Lady’s jewelry fell to Gertrud since
the other girl was ill.
This time Elijah watched for fear that she had made the other servant ill so
that she may steal from his mother, and the thought pained his heart, which was
already weak. He found her mumbling words in both German and Latin as she
polished and while confused he was relieved that at the end of her task not a
single trinket had been pilfered. Two months later, after a grand dinner party
the other girl, Millicent, was cleaning and slipped a silver spoon into her
apron pocket. Moments later her pocket felt heavy and started to bulge under
the weight of the numerous spoons in her pocket.
Millicent was confused and scared as the spoons kept multiplying and finally
ripped the seam on her apron and the pile of silver fell with a clang. Elijah
and his father appeared to see what was going on only to find Millicent
scooping up spoons and shoving them into any other pocket she could find. She
was promptly fired and a police report was made, although they didn’t arrest
her, and she was sent on her way. Another servant was called to collect the
spoons and take them to the kitchen to be cleaned and counted, along with the
rest of the silver. Twenty minutes later Gertrud appeared, case of silver
spoons in hand, and reported that all of them had been returned.
“You knew, that’s what you were doing to the silver, and why you made her ill,”
Elijah said softly after his father and mother had left the room.
“I don’t know vhat you’re talking about,” She replied cooly.
“There is no need to lie. I know there is something different about you,
something of yourself that you hide. I don’t understand what happened, but I
know we don’t own that many silver spoons.” His eyes watched closely as Gertrud
debated with herself.
“Vhat is done is done, und novone vill ever steal from the Mrs. or anyvone who
is the rightful owner of the silver or the jewels again.” She turned to leave
and Elijah caught her wrist softly.
“I take it that you do not wish my parents to know, but you did a great service
for my family, I would like to thank you. I don’t know what to offer you except
that I might be your confidant in whatever secrets you may have.”
“Vell then, I will reveal to you one, und you can determine vhether or not you
still vish to be my vertraute. My name is Gertrud Kapelput-Addams.” It took all
of a second for the name to register. She braced herself for the rejection she
thought was inevitable and was shocked when a soft chuckle escaped him.
“And all this time I thought they were exaggerating when they said they
Addamses were-,” He stopped, seemingly embarrassed about whatever comment he
was going to make. This time she was the one to giggle.
“Mr. Van Dahl, there is nothing you could say about my family that I have not
heard before. Monsters, heathens, vitches, devils, evil. I used to think them
compliments, und I guess, given the context, I still do.”
“And are you? A witch, I mean.” She smiled devilishly, and leaned in.
“That, Mr. Van Dahl, I’ll let you decide, ja?” As she was walking away he
called out.
“Elijah! Please, call me Elijah.” She nodded, still smiling and retreated to
the kitchen.
Their romance grew from that one conversation. Elijah was often spotted lurking
in the kitchens or the dining hall before a dinner, always trailing after the
odd kitchen maid with a foreign accent. He inquired about her home, her family,
and some of the odd quirks she had. He marveled at the idea of automatons and
laughed at some of the more daring and saucy exploits of her kin. Even the more
morbid stories of her relatives and her own antics as a child didn’t deter him,
though he admitted to finding them odd.
“For somevone who just heard me admit to poisoning the neighbors cat, you’re
surprisingly calm.”
“I don’t like to think about hurting animals, but the little beast mauled you
all the time and her owner sounds just as beastly. I’m not sure what else you
could have done.”
“Poisoned the girl,” she answered bluntly.
“........And did you?”
“Vhat do you think?”
It was more than she could have hoped for, and after a whole year of courting
in secret she and Elijah had a magical night together. The Van Dahls were
hosting an event for the elite of Gotham and she was helping to serve the
guests. She watched, annoyed as the rich heiresses of businessmen threw
themselves at Elijah and his parents continuously introduced him to more,
despite his disinterest.
She was just starting to contemplate hexing them all when a hand grabbed her
shoulder and pulled her into a small alcove in the wall. Elijah stood there,
smiling down at her and held a finger to his lips. She watched with amazement
as he moved a tapestry aside and pulled on the wall sconce, opening a small
passage. She followed him through and out into the gardens, giggling in joy the
entire time.
They found themselves in a secluded section of the garden that was off limits,
with a high hedge wall that she realized was part of the maze. They settled
down in the pavilion and caught their breath. She kept an eye on him, having
been made aware of his health condition. To this day the doctors couldn’t
explain why he had healed so much, enough to jog or run for short distances and
go outside for extended periods of time in spring when previously the pollen in
the air would choke him. Nor could they explain how after Gertrud’s forced
departure it suddenly declined again and rapidly.
That night he had kissed her and laid her down on the cushioned seat of the
pavilion and made love to her. It was the night their son was conceived and the
night he promised to marry her. It was the next night, after announcing his
intentions that morning that she was forced to leave. She accepted the money
she was offered, but the real reason she left wasn’t money. It was fear, for
herself and Elijah, and now, years later, she knew had she stayed she would
have had to fear for their son. He’d revealed during an argument with his
father over the disgrace of marrying a lower class citizen that she was from an
old and rich family.
It hadn’t taken much digging for his parents to find the link between the
Kapelputs and the Addamses. She was afraid of the repercussions the Van Dahls
could bring upon her, and worried about Elijah being ostracized as she was. The
sting of being forced from her home in Germany throbbed in her heart and she
knew she could not wish such a pain on her dear Elijah, so she disappeared,
with only a hastily written note to her love about what had happened and why
she left. Ten months later an envelope appeared in Elijah’s room. Inside was a
picture of a baby boy with tufts of raven hair on his head and the name Oswald
Chesterfield Cobblepot, scrawled across the bottom.
Elijah smiled, tears dripping from his cheeks, and tucked the picture away in
his suit jacket.
Chapter End Notes
     vertraute- means trusted, trusted friend.
     Oma-is granny
     Hexe-is a witch
***** Family by Choice; From Hitman to Family (Hit)Man *****
Chapter Summary
     How Victor Zsasz got a family.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Zsasz wasn't born into or married to any Addamses or Addams relatives, yet he
was family all the same. Family, Victor decided, was anyone you could feel safe
around regardless of last names and distant relations that you've never heard
of but are still expected to hug or shake hands with at family functions. He'd
reached this conclusion after he'd been forced from his, at the time, current
residence.
Before Oswald he would have gone into hiding in the slums of Gotham or asked
Don Falcone if there were any long-term or out of town jobs to do. Something
that would either get him out of Gotham or in one of the Don's safe houses
while he did his work. If the second option could be at all avoided then he
would, simply because it would almost be similar to admitting he needed help.
After all, hitmen of his calibre didn't ask for jobs because men like him were
always in high demand.
The Lady had one of those industrial sized three ring binders you see in the
hands of business CEOs all for him and a waiting list that was always backed up
for at least three months. It was an ego booster, knowing that he did such an
efficient job that people were trying to outdo one another in dollar signs to
get him on their side. However, his golden reputation had diminished somewhat
thanks to a certain GCPD member. Turns out gold corrupts easier than
anticipated.
He had a grudging respect for Gordon, but like Edward, the second Oswald
decided he no longer liked or needed Jim, or if Jim ever betrayed him, hell
would look like a tropical paradise compared to what they'd do to him. Though
he supposed it was Jim's snooping that led him to his realization. He'd been
out on his ass and thanks to Penguin he didn't have the protection of a Don to
cover himself with. However, he'd worked with Penguin a few times before and
one time in particular stuck out to him. It was the job that made him consider
working for Penguin permanently.
It was during the Theo Galavan debacle and Zsasz was bouncing from hit to hit
when the Lady informed him Penguin wanted him for a very special high risk job.
It intrigued him, especially when he saw the amount of cash the little mobster
was shelling out. He appeared at Fish Mooney’s old club and was promptly
escorted to a private booth, where a decidedly agitated looking Penguin sat.
“Well, you got my interest.” The smaller man snorted.
“My money certainly did. You're in high demand.” Zsasz smirked, if the little
guy was always this sassy then he knew they'd get along like a house on fire.
“Blunt, I like it. Well, Mr. Penguin, depending on how this job goes I might be
willing to make myself more available to you.”
“I'm glad to hear it. However, this job is somewhat different than what I
presume you're usually hired for. I was assured that you would not only be up
to it, but the most qualified man for the job.”
“Now I'm definitely interested.” The small smile that had settled on the other
man's face disappeared. Down to business then, Zsasz supposed.
“My mother was kidnapped by a man named Theo Galavan. He's using her as
leverage to get me to wipe out his political competition for him. I had Butch
working on it and he thinks he knows where she is.”
“Nice to know the dog I trained for you is still working. And how, might I ask,
has Mr. Gilzean acquired his knowledge?”
The other man briefly looked sheepish, though now Zsasz suspects it was because
he'd undone all of Zsasz’s conditioning with one desperate and anger fueled
move of a dagger. Either way Zsasz had agreed to the job and left the club
feeling slightly confused.
He knew his relationship, if it could be called that, with his mother wasn't
normal and most people didn't spend most of their early childhood wondering how
they'd made it past infancy when you're pretty sure your mom doesn't even know
she had a kid. His birth had been one unintended and unwelcome, since the act
of making a baby had merely been an exchange of goods. Sex for heroin. He
remembers fending for himself in the slums of Gotham because his mother was off
somewhere higher than a kite and left him alone.
He remembers the embarrassment of being called to the office at school, (he
went because he needed to at least be able to count cash and read, and found
that he could scrape by with only mild interest and some half assed homework),
because he was wearing the same shirt three days in a row and hadn’t showered.
He remembers in high school the comments about his mom and how even though she
was a slut they wouldn’t sleep with her whacked out STD infected self. He also
remembers the homeless war vet he spent nights with under the bridge in the
park.
He learned how to defend himself from that guy, after having gotten jumped for
the third time.
“Jesus kid, this is getting painful to watch. Just punch ‘em in the dick and
run!”Best advice he’s ever gotten. He was good at gym and at one point
considered being an athlete, but he knew deep down he was destined to lurk in
Gotham’s underbelly. The JROTC officer at his high school noticed his physical
talents though, and sophomore year he found himself in ROTC.
“Heh, the army never gives up kid. They’ll start you off young, give you a list
of benefits to joining. You know how much of those benefits you’re actually
going to see. Look in front of you kid, I’m it. I’m your future if you let them
wrangle you.”
But with ROTC he learned survival skills and tactical planning and how to hold
a rifle. The year he graduated he signed up for boot camp.
“You’re gonna regret it.”
"I’m not signing up. I’m learning how to survive.”
 “How to kill more like. It ain’t like the fist fights I taught. This ain’t
scrapping. This is the real shit.”
“You’ve been kicking my ass with your military special ops combat training
since I was eight. I think I know real shit. Besides, this is Gotham, learning
to kill is how to survive.”
He laughed, choking on his cheap hand-rolled cigarette smoke.
“Think you’re tough shit just because you can go a round in the ring with a
washed up soldier. They’ll beat the confidence out of ya kid.”
 “The hell they will.”
He did well in basics, so well they had him do trials to see if he could
qualify for special ops. If he did he’d be put on a task force and get a few
years experience. He passed that too, he could fire a gun without looking and
still hit his target. Everything from snipers to rocket launchers, to handguns.
He learned hand to hand combat and more tactical shit. Then he disappeared.
”He would have made a damn fine soldier.”
 “No, he didn’t give damn about patriotism, he came here for one thing
sergeant. To learn to kill.”
Two years later, at the age of twenty three, Victor Zsasz was Gotham’s top
hitman. And the man under the bridge finally got his benefits in the form of an
envelope full of hundred dollar bills and only the words,
“They didn’t beat me” written on the front.
Zsasz was shaken out of his thoughts by the sound of metal on metal. He looked
down and smiled fondly as Jerome skipped, literally skipped, by the stairs,
easily deflecting Ivy’s wild lashes with her sword. They reminded him of his
Zsaszettes. Life on the streets was hard, especially for women who had to walk
every street scared of being grabbed. So he made sure every girl he knew that
walked those sleazy streets could fire a gun and throw a punch. His way of
giving back to the community.
“All I said was that shade of green looked trashy and that you need to lay off
the plant fumes. Jeeze.”
Zsasz huffed a small laugh and went back to thinking about how he got himself
into this. Oh yeah, turns out Gertrud Kapelput-Addams is a women who needs no
rescue. Because he’d gone to check out the place they were holding her and
found her trying to pick the lock on her cell with bloody hands and an even
bloodier hair clip. One guard lay twitching against her cell bleeding from the
puncture hole in his neck.
“Umm, what are you doing.”
“Are you vith them?”
“No ma’am. Your son, Oswald, sent me.” Her face lit up.
“Oh that sveet boy, sending his momma some help. Vhy don’t you see if you can
find the man vith the key to this cell. It vould be easier than trying to pick
this lock.” He nodded and drew his gun. He made his way through the building
and only found two other people guarding it.
“No key.”
“The man who brought me here must have it. Verdammt!” She hissed, and yeah, ok
she was scary when angered. Just then he heard a car pull up and motioned her
to be quiet. She made no attempt to hide the bloody hand or hair clip. He makes
his way up a flight of stairs and gets into position.
Galavan, his sister, the dog (Butch), and Oswald walk in.
“Mother!” His mother never would have smiled at him like that. Like he was
better than the prick of a needle to her. Well, then he would have to do his
best to keep Gertrud safe. Because if he couldn’t have a happy life with a
loving mother, at least some one else could.
They let her go, but Zsasz knew something was up. Butch for one was acting
different. If you weren’t the guy who spent days torturing him in a basement to
train him, you wouldn’t notice. Then he saw the glint of steel and fired. The
bullet hit Tabitha in her hand and she dropped the knife. Oswald grabbed his
mother and ran, Butch tried to reach out and grab them but Gertrud whirled
around hissing something in German.
Holy shit, did the room get colder. Yeah, that was his own breath misting in
front of him. The ceiling of the warehouse creaked as the cold weakened the
metal of the roof. Zsasz flung himself off the ledge, hitting a shipping
container and rolled. He landed as the roof caved in and Zsasz covered his
head, shielding himself from the worst of it. He got up faster than the stunned
trio still on the ground and raced after Oswald and his mother, bits of ice and
metal sliding off the kevlar on his back.
Oswald had his mother hidden behind a crate as he fired at the men Theo must
have told to come ahead of him in case Oswald or his mother did get out, but
they definitely weren’t there when Zsasz arrived.
“Go, Boss! I’ll cover you.”
“Boss?” Zsasz smirked. Oswald nodded in acknowledgement and let Zsasz take
over.
He showed up to Oswald’s the next night, a few bullet holes in his jacket and a
nasty gash from the ceiling falling on his head, literally, were the only
indicators anything had happened. Gertrud ran up and hugged him before
muttering in German and touching the cut on his neck. Oswald was behind her.
“My mother said you did well, and you were a big help to us. To me. Now about
payment,”
“We can consider it my first paycheck and work out the rest later.” Oswald
smiled.
"Well then, welcome to the family.”
At the time he thought Oswald meant the crime family. But when he started
noticing plates of cookies and lunch bags with his name on it being left at his
residence or at the club he started thinking otherwise.
“Boss, why the cookies?”
“My mother thinks you’re too thin.” And that had been it. He didn’t mind,
although the cookies had an odd taste to them, they were sweet but had a tang
to them. Life had resumed a form of normalcy for him after that. Until he lost
his…...house might have been too generous a word. He also knew Oswald was
currently in Arkham. But Falcone was gone, so he was fucked. Or so he thought,
until he saw Gertrud standing outside his sleazy roach-side motel.
“Uh, hey? Anything I can do for you Ms. Kapelput?”
“Vell, you see, vith my poor boy in Arkham I find myself in need of company. I
have recently reconnected vith an old flame and ve have plenty of room.”
“Ms. K, that’s real nice but,”
“Und he said he needed some extra security around the house vhile the
contractor is there to help remodel. It's such an old house, vith old pipes,
and many priceless heirlooms. Perhaps you could stay vhile they do that.”
“Ms. K, I know for a fact you are more than capable of handling sticky
fingers.”
“Ah, but Victor, my old eyes don’t see as much as they used to. Und my hearing
is going, my veary old bones could use the help.” Zsasz isn’t surprised she
knows his first name.
“Well, Ms. K, I don’t know who you’re calling old. Since I’m positive a beauty
like yours is ageless, but who am I to argue with a lady. Especially a lady
that bakes cookies.” He holds out his arm and she loops her hand through it.
“After you.”
He’d only meant to stay for a while, but somewhere between walking in the front
doors of the Van Dahl manor and watching Gertrud and Elijah waltz through the
lilies. To their huge celebration feast when Oswald was released from Arkham,
slightly shaken from his stay and certainly not as violent, almost normal, but
finding out that his friend he had a crush on after he’d saved Oswald’s life
was too absorbed in a revenge plot against Jim Gordon to worry about Oswald’s
shaky mental state put him in a foul enough mood to go head hunting. Starting
with Butch and Tabitha, who’d perched themselves at the top in his absence.
Barbara was…..unpredictable but seemed harmless enough, or at least less likely
to challenge for the throne. Well at the time, again thanks to questionable
methods from Arkham's Dr. Strange. Now it was almost a weekly thing and
reminded Zsasz of siblings fighting over a favorite toy. At least Strange’s odd
methods had given Gertrud a chance to get even with the man who hurt her son,
since Oswald had dealt with Galavan personally the first time. Odd that his
need to confront the man who had tried to murder his mother had resulted in him
meeting his future husband.
Gertrud had calmly asked him to go collect her, “little hellion before he gets
himself into too much trouble”. Oswald had been shocked to learn his mother had
reconnected with his father, but was excited as well. The reunion had been
sweet and the love story left Zsasz feeling warm and fuzzy, and who gives a
shit if he’s a sap for crap like that. The brutal murder of Grace and her
children for poisoning Elijah was his favorite part.
Well shit, it was Christmas and he was still here. He needed to get off his ass
and get a place to stay. He wandered downstairs and found the stockings that
had been hung, except there was a new stocking. It was all black, and like the
others had an actual human leg and foot still in it, and like the others little
gifts adorned the gruesome sight. His name was sewn onto the side and a black
wool scarf was wrapped around the knee. Hand knitted by Gertrud herself no
doubt with little silver bullets and guns patterned across it.
He slowly reached out and ran his fingers along the material. He unwrapped it
from the leg and wrapped it around the neck before pulling the severed limb out
of the stocking, the toe tag said Charles. Ah, one of the she-devils children.
Tucked between his toes were little paper packets, powdered poisons. He reached
inside the stocking and pulled out two cases of bullets and a tin of cookies.
“Did you think ve vouldn’t get you anything?”
“Ms. K, I don’t know what to say. I’ve never really had a Christmas present
before.”
“You don’t have to say anything. Ve’re family now Victor. Familie nach wahl,
nicht durch blut.”
She patted his cheek and then left to get herself some tea from the kitchen.
Zsasz rubbed the scarf again. “Family.” He smiled, yeah, he could get used to
family.
Chapter End Notes
     Verdammt- damn it
     Familie nach Wahl, nicht durch Blut.- family by choice, not by blood.
***** Journey of a King; Part One *****
Chapter Summary
     Pieces of Oswald's childhood that shaped his desire to become King of
     Gotham
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Oswald can still remember being a small child sitting at his mother’s feet
playing with his hand made voodoo doll. He remembers her in the rocking chair
knitting or sewing up a patch in his clothing while humming. He also remembers
the nights she’d come home exhausted from working so hard. He’d asked one night
why his Vati didn’t help or come visit. He hates thinking about the sadness
that claimed her features and knowing that he put it there.
“My little Kapelput, ve are different. Everyvone is different, und that is vhat
they say makes you special. They say dis because it sounds nicer than the
truth, vhich is people hate different. They hate it because they don’t
understand it und they vill do anything to hurt you. Don’t let them do that to
you my liebling.”
“Ja, mutter.”
He definitely remembers the taunts and ridicules of playground bullies every
time he came to school wearing the same sweater or pair of slacks because they
didn’t have a washer or dryer and they had to save quarters to do laundry. He
remembers the slurs aimed at his sexuality for sewing, and cooking, and doing
what they considered girl things.
They didn’t know he was sewing his own clothes and quilts, and making voodoo
dolls. They didn’t know he could brew a poison as easily as he could make bread
or soup. He remembers the first time he got into a fight. Fifth grade, Marvin
Greggor, a large red-faced child with a scrunched up nose and beady eyes.
Oswald didn't mind the taunts about his girlish hobbies or his looks or
sexuality. He had decided while listening to his mother's tales of true love,
usually considered too morbid by others, that gender was unimportant. He had no
preferences and the allure of sex didn't draw him in unless he knew the act had
meaning. And meaningful coupling was only achieved if you cared about the other
person and their desires, regardless of your own pleasure.
So, taunts such as, “fag” and “fairy” held no real bite. Jabs at his beak nose
and pale skin and freckles were brushed aside. Simple observations of his
physical traits were nothing to be bothered by. He knew he wasn't
conventionally attractive but he'd heard girls in the upper grades complain
about how blue his eyes were and how long his lashes were and why his hair was
a perfect shade of raven that caught the light and reflected it in shades of
violet and midnight blue.
During his middle school years he'd been chubby and he'd been picked on for
that, but also envied by girls for how soft and sweet it made him look. His
mother had also assured him he was handsome, the perfect standard of
gentlemanly grace and charm for a Kapelput. He was proud of his rather strange
lineage and of being a Kapelput and couldn't understand his mother's insistence
on using “Cobblepot”.
Later in life he appreciated the protection it gave his mother that she wasn't
immediately associated with Oswald Cobblepot and therefore a target. It was
this pride that lead him to his first fight and ultimately down the path of
becoming the King of Gotham. Marvin had made a comment along the lines of, “I
bet they're all inbred and that's why they so weird. Hey! Cobblesnotis your mom
your aunt too?!” Marvin had just let out a big donkey bray of a laugh and
turned to his crowd of followers to bask in their laughter when Oswald tackled
him and started slamming his head into the concrete.
Dazed, Marvin lay prone until one of his friends, Jeremy Bulk, pulled Oswald
off.
Oswald was much smaller and twisted out of Jeremy’s grip before turning and
sinking his teeth into the skinny blonde’s arm. Immediately blood filled his
mouth, Jeremy screamed and flailed his arm trying to shake Oswald off. Marvin
got up, grabbed his middle and pulled, yanking him off Jeremy with a chunk of
skin still clenched between his teeth.
Twisting in his grasp he started clawing at Marvin’s face until he felt
something wet squelch under his nails. The other children had been stunned
before cheering the fight on but they all fell silent as Marvin dropped Oswald
and fell to the ground with a hand pressed against his ruined and bleeding eye.
Oswald was pissed, this mistkerl had picked on him since first grade and now
he'd insulted his family and his mother.
Oswald kicked the bully’s face with all his might and was rewarded with a
satisfying crunch. Two adults came running over when they heard kids screaming
and Oswald was pulled away, and given how seriously injured Marvin was, was
taken to the GCPD and held until his mother came to get him. He sat waiting for
three hours until she got off work. His mutter had been furious.
“I taught you better! Poison that schwien’s lunch, use voodoo, anything! Now
you're suspended!”
“But mutter, what he said about our family! You said don't let them hurt me or
put me down! I made him pay for his insult in blood, like the stories you
tell!”
Gertrud sighed, “I did say that, didn't I. Vell, new deal, you try to stay out
of trouble until you're grown und out of school. Then you can have revenge on
anyvone you vant.”
“By then, mutter, nobody will dare to cross me and I won't need vengeance.”
Curses and poisons were all well and good, but the intimacy of inflicting pain
on another with your own hand was intoxicating. The fear the other children who
had mocked and scorned him had sparked a morbid glee in him. He would be a man
powerful enough to invoke that fear and demand respect. He would run Gotham or
die trying.
To make his mother feel better he didn't pick any more fights the rest of the
school year and Marvin, patch over one eye, and Jeremy who had stitches in his
arm; now a jagged scar with the faint outline of Oswald's teeth, never bothered
him again. If two years later when he was in seventh grade at the new junior
high he pushed Lance Tanning off the roof of the four story apartment building
his mother and he lived in after the baseball player chased him home, then his
mother didn't need to know. Lance knew Oswald pushed him but since Os snuck
behind him to do it he didn't actually see it, so it wasn't enough to press
charges.
If he spiked Lindsey Mindz's water at cheer tryouts and watched from behind the
bleachers with stifled cackles as she went nuts and bit Patty Snow’s nose off,
then no one could prove it was him or even had any clue what caused it. Except
his mother who noticed he'd lifted her bottle of absinthe from the locked
cabinet on the third shelf. Not that she was going to punish him after the
little bitch dumped bleach on him, ruining his new school clothes and bleaching
patches of his hair blonde. Luckily his oma’s spell book had a recipe for
essence of raven so they could save his hair, even if he did have to hide the
crest of feathers that popped up.
He'd rather liked the look and kept the spikey hair in different variations
since that day. They weren't actual bird feathers anymore, but close enough.
And the look on Lindsey’s face when he'd come to school the next day with hair
even sleeker, darker, and shinier than her cheap dye job had been worth it.
So, if Aaron Jenksen, Lindsey’s boyfriend, went missing there were whispers,
but no one could prove it was him. Oswald had run to the 24 hour store to get
some cheap frozen dinner since his mother was ill and currently downing a fresh
brewed batch of Addams family remedy, a drink that would rouse a corpse into a
drunken stupor. Aaron was out with some guys, doing things they probably
shouldn't have and he'd taken off after Oswald to confront him about what
happened.
This time Oswald wasn't expecting a fight, no poison, no curses prepared,
nothing. He'd bolted down a side alley and crouched behind the dumpster. He
heard Aaron coming down the alley and knew if he was found he was fucked and
started looking for anything he could to use as a weapon. As if fate was just
as bloodthirsty as Oswald his gaze alighted on an old broken switch blade.
It was this moment that cemented his path in life, because as Aaron ran by
Oswald sprang and buried the jagged edge of the rusty piece of metal into
Aaron's neck. Aaron jerked around in shock and slammed Oswald into a wall and
slouched on top of him, desperately clawing at the knife in his neck. Oswald
shoved hard, pushing Aaron off and proceeded  to slam his foot into his face,
breaking his nose and knocking out several teeth. The jock twitched once and
then laid still. Oswald spit on him out of spite and relished in this moment,
the moment he committed his first murder. He was preparing to leave the
alleyway when a voice from the shadows stopped him in his tracks.
“Not bad, but if you leave the blade they can lift prints. Oh and DNA from your
spit. Think before you act, especially if the act is motivated by anger or
spite, kid. Those are usually the least thought through actions a person can
commit.”
Oswald whirled around to see who spoke and saw a dark skinned woman with short
black hair
“Who are you?! And I'm not a kid.” The woman didn't appear to be much older
than him and had no right to call him a kid.
“Well, you're not a high school student, so a kid to me. Anyway, I don't give
my name out to people I don't trust.”
“How do you know I’m not a high school student unless you go there? I could
just ask around and find out who you are.”
“How do you know I don’t use a fake name, at school or on the streets? What
makes you so sure I’m a current high school student and not a former one? Maybe
I’m in college. Also I didn’t know you weren’t a freshman, since you’re too
young to be anything else, your reaction just told me. You won’t last very long
in this business if you’re that easy to read.”
“What business?”
“Killing people, I can see it. You didn’t have to kill this kid, he would have
run right past you, but you wanted to, and you did. Not that I’m judging you.”
“I’m not an assassin, or even trying to be one. I want more than that.”
“Yeah I see that too. You wanna be a bigshot, kid. Wanna be in charge? Then
stop pulling shit like this,” she kicked Aaron’s cooling body for emphasis.
“Shit like this will get you caught. You wanna be in charge you can’t just kill
people who piss you off, there are better ways of getting even. I mean yeah,
this game requires a few dead pawns, sometimes you gotta take out a king, but
at the end of the day, shooting everybody won’t win you any loyalty.”
“Fear. I want people to respect me because they’re afraid not to.”
"Better to be feared than loved, that’s how the saying goes. But kid, if
everyone fears you they secretly hate you. The next big player who comes along
with enough cash and a longer fuse on their temper and they’re gonna turn on
you before you can say, ‘oh shit’.”
“Why do you care? How do you know any of this?”
“Because, I wanna be on top too. I want the same thing you want, respect.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Look at me, I’m pretty girl in a big boys game. No one takes me seriously.”
“That’s what I don’t get, underestimating someone for being a woman.” The woman
laughed.
“Damn kid, I like you. Love to meet the woman who taught you that lesson.”
“My mother, she’s the sweetest lady I’ve ever met, but she’d also skin you
alive and make you say ‘thank you, ma'am’ the second you cross her.” The other
laughed again.
“Yeah, my momma was like that too. Now, come one kid, we gotta get rid of this
evidence. Unless you want to go to jail.”
“I have to go to the store first. My mother is sick and I was supposed to be
grocery shopping. I’ve been gone too long already, she’ll worry.”
“Ok, take care of your momma. Then sneak out and meet me in the old storage
block in the industrial side of town at midnight. If I’m not there in an hour I
got caught at work and I’ll handle it whenever, if I’m there you’re gonna learn
to clean up your own mess. Got that, boy.”
“Oswald! My name is Oswald. Not ‘kid’ or ‘boy’.”
“Fish.” Oswald took her outstretched hand and shook.
“I’ll see you later, Oswald.”
“Definitely, Fish.”
That night was the first time he met Fish Mooney, his mentor, future employer,
a second mother, and his greatest rival. Meeting her would change his life
forever and help him become the King he always wanted to be.
Chapter End Notes
     vati- father
     mutter- mother
     oma- grandma
     mistkerl- dirty pig, bastard (It's the most improper and rude form of
     the word pig in German. Never used in polite company and is a swear
     word).
     Schwein-pig. (can also mean bastard but is less rude and insulting
     than mistkerl).
***** Ed Part 2; Family Values (Thankful) *****
Chapter Summary
     Ed and Oswald are enjoying a passionate night together and Edward is
     thankful for everything Oswald has given him.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Ed can’t believe how incredibly lucky he is to have such a beautiful husband.
The gorgeous man who shares his bed every night and fills his bright cheery
mornings with dark gloomy clouds. To others that would sound horrible, but
daylight had never done Edward any favors, in fact he’d met his beloved at
night. Night is when Oswald looks his best in Edward’s opinion. Like right now,
with Oswald’s pale skin glowing in the moonlight, appearing ethereal. He looks
like a spirit of some kind, hauntingly pale with electric blue-green eyes that
cut through the shadows like spotlights.
His raven hair is mussed, glinting royal blue and deep purple as it catches the
light. A perfect contrast to his snow white skin and his blood red lips, the
deep scarlet color further highlighted from their previous kisses which left
some actual blood from Edward’s enthusiastic nipping at the supple flesh. The
blood dots the wet, glistening flesh in blossoms of dark red, almost seamlessly
blending into the naturally red lips of his beloved.
His long lashes flutter against his cheek bones and his perfectly slim throat
is exposed as he throws his head back against the pillows. Ed wraps his long
bony fingers around it but doesn't squeeze, yet. He enjoys feeling his
beloved’s quickened pulse beneath his fingers, the rush of warmth as his life
blood is pumped through his body. The evidence of this is in the pink flush to
his cheeks, the blood on his lips, and the erection between his legs.
Ed’s own cock is buried deep within his husband, thrusting in long slow
movements. His grip tightens on his beloved’s throat, relishing in the absolute
trust this dark angel has in him. He would never hurt his darling husband
unless he asked for it. He knows he wouldn’t because he can’t, he belongs to
Oswald and to lose him would shatter all that is Edward Nygma and scatter the
pieces in the wind.
He belongs to Oswald body, heart (as dark as it is), and soul (what’s left of
it). Oswald breath stutters under him and he removes his hand, allowing his
love to gasp in air. He knows that he isn’t the one in control and that Oswald
lets him have this, this power over him and that it’s only because he’s being
allowed that he can even be the one inside of Oswald.
He also knows the power he has over his husband, he knows Oswald would do
anything for him. It’s his devotion to Edward and possessive nature that drew
him to Oswald like a moth to flame. The need to possess Ed entirely, assuring
Ed and anyone who threatens him or looks at him twice that Ed is his.
Demonstrating it with a necklace of bite marks on his neck or the imprint of
his fingers on Ed’s wrists. All his husband asks in return is that Ed obey him.
That he be willing to give him anything, kill anyone, whatever Oswald needed of
him.
It feels like salvation, from himself and from the abuse he'd suffered all his
life, to be allowed to kneel at the feet of this dark beauty, his angel of
death whose wings leave trails of blood and chaos wherever he goes. Until
Oswald, Ed had been lost and unaware of who he was, but with the guidance of
this man he feels whole. Ed's hips increase in speed, hammering into the man
below him, and his lips descend to capture the bright red petals of the other's
lips.
His lips move from the other's mouth to his neck, biting at the ring of faint
bruising his choking left. Oswald's shimmering onyx painted nails come up to
scratch at his scalp, spindly fingers twisting into his dark chocolate curls.
“Oh! Darling, mark me. I'm-ah!-yours! Please, make me bleed.” Ed obeys without
thought, teeth breaking the smooth white skin. The savory taste of Oswald’s
blood saturates his taste buds and Ed’s hips buck wildly in response.
Oswald’s other hand comes up to scratch at his shoulders and down his back,
breaking the skin and leaving little rivers of blood. The pain mixes with the
pleasure and Ed’s sense drown in euphoria as his thrusts falter, rhythm lost to
animalistic passion. Oswald’s cries increase in volume, slim angular hips
rolling down into Ed’s thrusts to absorb the impact, taking each powerful blow
directly to his prostate.
This is what Ed had been searching for his whole life, someone who understood
him, who saw the beast in him and accepted it. Oswald didn’t try to tame him or
cage him, he set him free. He was no longer a beast without a home or a
purpose. Home, Oswald gave him a home and a family. The family he’d craved for
as a child, one that accepted him and loved him. Gertrud and Elijah had been
the parents he’d never had.
“Oswald, my love, I’m close,” his voice was wrecked, a low growl barely audible
over the other’s screams of ecstasy.
“Let go-AH! Oh f-fuh!-let go, liebe. I want to feel you!” Ed presses his hips
against the smooth, porcelain ass of his lover. His hips grind forward,
pulsating shaft never leaving the warm clutch of his ass. Oswald’s muscles
clench around him, rocking subtly to keep pressing the head against his sweet
spot.
Oswald can feel his husbands hips twitching against his ass as his grinding
picks back up into short rapid thrusts. The man above him stiffens, hips
pressed tight against his backside as he empties his load inside him with a
loud cry of Oswald’s name. The way he says it, like he’s calling out to some
higher power, voice cracking in awe and reverence, pushes Oswald over the edge.
His hips lift from the bed, head thrown back and eyes rolling into the back of
his head as fireworks light up in his vision.
They stay like that for a bit, bodies shaking with the aftershocks of pleasure.
Ed pulls out slowly after a moment and leans down to lap the cooling pool of
cum on Oswald’s belly. Ed licks up his darling husband’s release like a kitten
laps up milk, delighting in the taste of his beautiful bird. Once Oswald is
clean Ed lays down next to him, settling behind Oswald so that his chest is
pressed tightly to Oswald’s back.
“I was thinking, maybe you should get me a collar.” Oswald turns to look him in
the eye.
“Why is that, mein liebe?”
“Before you I was like a dog without a master, but you gave me a home, a
family, and direction. Plus, it would satisfy your possessiveness, to collar
me. ‘Property of Oswald Kapelput, if found please return to Van Dahl Manor’.”
Oswald snorts in amusement, but there is a look in his eye that tells Ed he’s
considering it.
“Would you wear it everywhere? Every day?”
“I was kidding, though I wouldn’t be opposed to a collar in the bedroom. Is
this about Isabelle again?”
“Isabella, with an ‘a’. As if she’s some fancy French Maid.”
“Isabella, or Isabelle, was the Queen of Spain, dear, not France.”
“I don’t care.”
Edward huffed, amused by his husbands antics.
“Oswald, you are the love of my life. You gave me all I could ever ask for. I’m
yours, to do with as you please. My heart is in your hand, and you could cast
it to the ground and crush it under your foot and I would still serve you. Eu
sunt sclavul voștri, întotdeauna, dragostea mea.”
Oswald’s eyes water as he presses a soft kiss to Edward’s lips.
“Du bist mein wertvollster Schatz. Ich brauche dich, Edward, und ich liebe dich
für immer. I still can’t believe you learned Romanian just to impress my
mother.”
“I was also curious how she just looked at me and seemed to know my ancestry.
It’s not like I had a great grandfather from Romania, it was a long time ago.
Naturally I’d want to learn more, especially when she mentioned ‘ancient
rituals’ and ‘dark magic’. However, it was mostly to impress your mother.”
“Well it worked. I told you she’d love you, and she did, even before you
learned Romanian.”
Edward smiled, hand finding Oswald’s in the moonlight and lacing their fingers
together.
“I was nervous, I’d hardly dated before you. I’d certainly never gotten
anywhere near the ‘meet the parents’ stage of a relationship. And you know how
I can be when meeting new people. I didn’t want to upset your parents and ruin
our relationship.”
“Edward, I find your social awkwardness adorable. Besides, you’ve gotten
better, your confidence has bloomed since I met you. And even if you had
accidentally said something odd I doubt it would have ruined our relationship.”
“It’s you, darling. You bring out the best in me, or I suppose in some cases
the worst.”
“I like you at your worst. So primal, vicious, disturbed,” Oswald purred in a
smoky voice.
"Careful darling, or you’ll get me started again,” Ed warned, but he was hoping
Oswald would keep going.
To his delight Oswald did indeed continue. Oswald’s hand detached from his,
briefly causing Ed to panic, before they moved to his shoulders, nails digging
in sharply. He shoved Edward over onto his back and swung his leg over his
hips, shuffling down until he straddled Edward’s thighs. Oswald smiled ferally
down at him, and leaned in to kiss him, teeth biting into his lower lip and
drawing blood.
“Oh, Oswald, my love,” Edward sighed, eyes rolling back into his head with
bliss.
“I’m so lucky, and thankful. You have given me everything I ever wanted.
Parents who care about me, a loving spouse, and children. Although I will say I
still dislike children, ours are old enough to not get on my nerves, except Ivy
on occasion. But, I love our children.”
“Edward, you are a wonderful father, so naturally our children are more
pleasant than those ruffians they are forced to associate with at school.
Honestly, such horrid creatures. Not at all like the horrid creature who lives
in the wine cellar, at least he’s behaved.”
“Dear, as much as I would love to continue talking about horrid creatures and
our lovely children, I’d much rather you finish what you started.” Edward
punctuated his point by thrusting sharply up against his husband.
“Ah! Oh, Edward, I have every intention of finishing this, very, very, slowly.”
 
The rest of the night was spent in the throes of passion, sharply punctuated
every now and then by loud cries of passion.
 
Down the hall Gertrud smiled fondly and shook her head.
“Young love, if only it was as quiet as it is beautiful.” Elijah found himself
chuckling in agreement.
 
“NOT AGAIN!” Ivy’s voice shrieked above the screams of ecstasy.
Chapter End Notes
     "Eu sunt sclavul voștri, întotdeauna, dragostea mea."-
     "I am your slave, always, my love."
     "Du bist mein wertvollster Schatz. Ich brauche dich, Edward, und ich
     liebe dich für immer."-
     "You are my most precious treasure. I need you, Edward, and I love
     you forever."
***** Ed Part 3: Meeting the Parents *****
Chapter Summary
     Ed meets Gertrud and Elijah for the first time. It goes a lot better
     than he thought it would.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Edward Nygma stood stiffly next to his boyfriend of one year, Oswald Cobblepot.
The Penguin and King of Gotham. However, that’s not what made Ed so nervous.
No, it was that Oswald had seduced him, and it wasn’t all that hard to make Ed
drop to his knees to do his King’s bidding, into meeting his parents.
“Really, darling, it’s been a year. And given that you proposed I think it’s
time you met my parents.”
“I’ve never met anyone’s parents before. What if they don’t like me? My own
parents didn’t like me. They’re Addamses.”
“Honestly, dear, you’re a nightmare. A beautiful, dark, deadly, terror. They’ll
adore you. And we’re Kapelputs, relatives of the Addams.”
“Ed, darling, relax. I can feel you shaking.” Ed looked over at his beautiful
fiance. His angel of darkness.
“Sorry, nervous.”
Oswald squeezed his hand reassuringly and led him up the stairs to the grand
manor that he lived in. Ed had visited a few times, but never when his mother
and father were home. Oswald twisted the handle and the large intricately
carved oak door swung open.
“Hand me your coat, my love.” Ed numbly shrugged off his coat and watched
Oswald hang it in the hall closet with his.
“Oswald, I’m going to be sick.”
“Nonsense. Deep breaths, remember that I love you, and that’s all they care
about.”
Oswald took his hand again and led him towards the sitting room, but before
they could enter a woman with long blonde hair came over and hugged Oswald
tightly.
“My boy, vhat took you so long? I thought you eloped!”
“Mother!”
“Dear, give him some space. He was only gone an hour.” Ed froze, this was it.
Oswald’s mother and father. Gertrud made scoffing noise and released Oswald
from her grip. Her gaze then honed in on Edward. She analyzed him for a moment
and Ed thought he might actually die. His heart was racing so fast he was
positive it would leap out of his chest, tap dance across the floor, then
collapse.
Suddenly Ed felt himself being yanked down into a hug.
“So handsome! Und tall, Osvald you didn’t tell me he vas so tall! But he’s so
thin, I feel bones!”
“Gertrud, my sweet, I think you’re making the poor boy nervous.”
“No, he was already like that. Mother, Edward isn’t a big fan of being touched
by strangers.”
Gertrud let go, eyes scanning the lean face of the man who was going to marry
her son. Ed gulped nervously when he saw her eyes darken.
“Mörder, ich sollte ihre zehen kochen und ihre teile sterilisieren, damit sie
nie kinder haben! Und sie sagen, ich bin ein monster,” She muttered with
disgust and rage.
Ed relaxed slightly, now that he knew she wasn’t mad at him.
“Oswald entführte und kochte und schälte die haut für unseren sechsmonatigen
jahrestag. Wenn das dich besser fühlen lässt.”
Gertrud gasped, eyes brightening to bright sky blue. “I taught him so vell, I’m
so proud. Und you speak German, vhat a pleasant surprise. I thought it vould be
Romanian, given your looks.” She looked at him closely for a moment, before
nodding. “Ja, you have powerful magic in your blood.”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand.” She patted his cheek lightly.
“I have much to teach you. Now, come sit. I’ll have Olga bring snacks, you’re
too skinny.”
Elijah strode forward and shook Ed’s hand.
“Elijah Van Dahl, pleasure. My son has told me so much about you. Tell me, is
forensics as fascinating as they show on television?” The conversation flowed
easily from there. Ed went into nerd mode and shared interesting lab stories.
He and Elijah also talked about how Ed almost became a doctor.
"Good thing my Gertrud knows how to take care of me. Still, had you been a
doctor, I would have valued your input."
"It's more of a hobby for me. I find it fascinating, but forensics is like
trying to solve a puzzle. Only you have to find all the pieces first. I also
contemplated engineering. I like working with my hands, taking things apart,
building them. I think somewhere that interest switched to humans. Taking them
apart, analyzing them, it's why psychology fascinates me. There's just so much,
but ultimately I think that's what fueled my forensic fire. M.E. would also
fulfill my need to solve a puzzle, to dig around inside a body and find all the
pieces, but with forensics you get more fun. I have to look at the evidence
from every angle, examine what we know a bout the corpse, the crime scene, and
then pry into the mind of the person who committed the crime. It's like
wrapping all my hobbies up into one."
"I'd never thought of it that way. You have a very interesting mind, Edward,
and you're very intelligent."
"Of course, only the best for my son. He vouldn't vaste his time vith those
painted vomen und pathetic little men. Mein sohn würde kein dummes schwein
heiraten. Now, I happen to know a few things about taking people apart. Have
you ever heard of hobbling? Very effective form of torture." He and Gertrud got
into a long debate about torture methods and how much evidence could be left
behind.
“Fascinating, I had no idea you could do it that way. It never occurred to me,
and it would leave far less evidence.”
“So young, there are many things they don’t teach you about torture. I could
show you my great grandfather’s collection of instruments after dinner.”
“Dinner? Oh dear, it is that time. Oswald didn’t mention staying for dinner.”
“I hadn’t planned to, love. But I hated to interrupt your bonding with my
parents. And just think, you were afraid they wouldn’t like you.”
Elijah laughed. "I can understand the ‘meet the parents fear’. No, that’s too
much heartbreak. If we didn’t like the boy, we’d have just killed him. Much
less painful ‘what if’s that way. Right, my angel?”
“Ja, und then ve vould tend to our dear son’s grief. But, I like you, too
skinny, but polite, tall, handsome…..You hurt my son however, und they vill
never find your body. Verstehen?”
“Ja,” Ed replied hastily.
“Good, now, dinner.” The rest of the evening went well and Ed returned to his
apartment smiling.
“Huh, I guess this is what having a family feels like.” Ed smiled again,
curling into his covers and thinking of his fiance.
“I could get used to this.”
Chapter End Notes
     Abusers, I should boil their toes and sterilize their parts so that
     they never have children! And they say I'm a monster.:
     Mörder, ich sollte ihre Zehen kochen und ihre Teile sterilisieren,
     damit sie nie Kinder haben! Und sie sagen, ich bin ein monster.
      
     Oswald kidnapped and boiled and peeled their skin for our six month
     anniversary. If that makes you feel better.:
     entführte und kochte und schälte die haut für unseren sechsmonatigen
     Jahrestag. Wenn das dich besser fühlen last
     My son would not marry a dumb pig.:
     Mein sohn würde kein dummes schwein heiraten.
     Understand?:
     Verstehen
***** Ghosting *****
Chapter Summary
     Edward is stuck in the past and living like a ghost. His husband
     helps bring him back to the present.
     WARNING: THIS CHAPTER HAS CUTTING.
     Also, I feel like this shouldn't need to be said, that yes Ed and
     Oswald love each other very much, but they don't necessarily have the
     healthiest relationship. Oswald is possessive and controlling and Ed
     is mentally unstable and dependent on Oswald. He's obsessed with him,
     and while still having his moments of wanting to be in control, is
     submissive to him so that Oswald won't have a reason to leave him.
     Oswald does take advantage of this and does manipulate Edward, but he
     does love him and wants him to be happy and safe. And if that means
     cutting Edward so that he feels connected to the moment then he will,
     but he doesn't want Ed to do it himself in case he gets carried away.
     THIS IS NOT SUPPOSED TO BE A HAPPY GOOFY FIC LIKE ADDAMS FAMILY. THIS
     IS GOING TO GET VERY DARK. THIS RELATIONSHIP IS NOT A HEALTHY
     RELATIONSHIP.
Chapter Notes
     So next chapter is being worked on and just a warning, it's about
     Fish's childhood and their is going to be implied pedophilia in that.
     In the meantime, have this short slightly smutty chapter about Ed and
     Oswald.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Ed stares down at the faded scar on his wrist. It itches, his whole arm itches
actually. His back burns and his arm itches and his ribs hurt. Edward scratches
absently, mind not really focused on the action. Instead it’s focused on the
imaginary lines of scarlet that well to the surface and spill over. He
scratches harder.
Cool fingers curl around his wrist and still the frantic clawing movement of
his other hand. Lifting his eyes away from the now red flesh of his arm he
meets his beloved husband’s eyes. Oswald is staring into him, to the dark and
ugly parts that he spent so long trying to hide. His wrist is raised to the
delicate lips of his King.
“It’s not real, darling. It’s over now,” his voice is soft, but commanding.
His back hurts less, reality settling in. The marks of his father’s belt are
old and faded, the bleeding staunched. His chest hurts for a different reason
now.
“Oswald.” It’s a plea. Spoken softly but full of desperation.
He’s led to the bathroom and watches while his husband draws him a warm bath.
He strips obediently and gets in, allowing the water to come up to his jaw.
He’s more relaxed now, but no less anxious.
There’s the soft metallic sound of a switchblade opening. Ed presents his wrist
like an offering.
“I’m so proud of you, liebeling. You’re doing much better about coming to me
when you feel like this.” Oswald praises and Ed sighs in response.
Oswald has a burgundy colored towel ready as he makes the first cut. Ed opens
his eyes to watch the ruby rivers drip down his arm onto the towel. Oswald
looks into his eyes again. A total of five cuts are made before Edward relaxes
and his eyes clear. Five neat and clinical cuts, a practiced hand. Ed thinks it
almost looks artistic, the bright red drops against his pale flesh. His King
dips the edge of the towel in the water and gently cleans them before bandaging
them.
“Bist du bei mir, mein Schatz?”
“Yes, I’m much better now.” And he is. The tightness is gone, his mind is
focused again.
He feels less like a ghost wandering through the endless dark of purgatory and
more like a damned soul who found salvation.
Oswald kisses his wrist, then kisses him. The bath is drained and Oswald guides
him to bed and strips down. Kissing every part of Ed’s body before marking it
with his nails and teeth and tongue.
It’s grounding. Ed knows it’s real, he isn’t going to wake up alone. Oswald’s
fingers work him open and he slides inside. Edward calls out his name like he’s
calling out to a god. Oswald is his god, his salvation. Those delicate fingers
that so gently and tenderly slit his skin like a priest slits a sacrificial
lambs throat, the same hands that have viciously and savagely murdered, lock
around his throat.
Ed comes with a choked cry of Oswald’s name, spots dancing in his vision.
Oswald thrusts a few more times, grip still tight around his neck before
letting go, allowing Ed to live one more day of bliss. To be a supplicant to
this King and god, a slave to his will and devoted entirely to his being.
He’s never been happier.
Chapter End Notes
     Bist du bei mir, mein Schatz?”
     Are you with me, my treasure?
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