#don maroni

[blood-n-tears]

i am a gotham content creator

(⁠☆⁠▽⁠☆⁠)

#gotham #gotham lore goes deep #gotham lore #ur welcome #oswald cobblepot #the penguin #don maroni #salvatore maroni #gotham penguin #gotham oswald #gotham fox #gotham edit #gotham gabe #penguin

[crossroadsserpent]

Dangerous Love. (Part one)

Gotham!Salvatore Maroni x GN reader.

(Hello! It's been a while! I had writer's block and a full schedule but I'm back! And hopefully for good! This is sort of a request from

@samantharaevelcher who commented on my last Sal Maroni post "Not A Sugar Baby")

Summary: You went completely against your mother's wishes and joined the mafia. Once she got word she kicked you out on the streets in the pouring rain, but don't worry, someone very important steps in.

Warnings: violence, gang violence, DV (Reader's family toward reader), cursing, blood, weapons, sh**tings and other forms of unaliving.

You were sure your mother wouldn't find out about your joining the mafia, she avoided that stuff like the plague especially after divorcing your dad. Your dad was in the Mafia too, told you stories, showed you how to fight, and taught you to bargain. You loved your dad and the stories he would tell about how they'd get money out of people that owed, you never understood why your mother always yelled at him. She always spoke I'll of him, especially in front of him, so when they got divorced you were happy for the quiet. It doesn't stay quiet for long though, shortly after the divorce your mom starts dating again and the fighting starts once more.

Truthfully you joined the mafia to not only escape your home life but to follow in your dad's footsteps and prove your mother wrong. You started out doing pickups and drop offs, simple shit, but as you gained trust you started getting to do more of the fun jobs. Your favorite was intimidation.

Unfortunately this good feeling couldn't last. Your mom somehow managed to find out that you were in the Mafia and She. Blew. Up.

There was screaming, cursing, crying, things being thrown, and walls being hit.

"HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO US?! I TOLD YOU TO STAY AWAY! HOW DARE YOU DEFY ME! I AM YOUR MOTHER AND YOU OBEY ME! I DON'T CARE IF YOU'RE IN YOUR 20's!" She shrieked as she threw more things at you. You were trying to make it to your room and dodge whatever was flying at you. You didn't even try to plead your case, just try to get to safety or at least grab something to defend yourself.

"YOU LITTLE BITCH! GET THE FUCK OUT OF THIS HOUSE!" Her screams pierced through your eardrums and before you could even reach your door her new boyfriend bodyslams you into the wall, knocking the wind out of your lungs. He held you in place as your mom screamed in your face, repeatedly punching the wall right next to your head. It took you kicking your mother's boyfriend in his manhood to get him to let go of you so you could run. And run you did, right out the front door and down the street, your mother screaming at you from the door way to never come back.

A block away from your house you slowed to a walk, it was then you realized just how bad it was raining. Thunder roared loudly as lightning lit up the sky like a terrifying firework.

Walking through the streets of Gotham alone and in the pouring rain could strike fear in the hearts of even the strongest of people, never knowing if there's someone following you or waiting in an alley for you to pass by. You kept your wits about you and continued walking, hoping to at least make it to the 24/7 gas station that you frequented almost daily.

You wouldn't even make it there.

You were waiting to cross the street when a car pulled up infront of you. The back seat window rolled down and there was your boss, he head of the mob you joined.

Don Maroni.

He looked at you and shook his head with a chuckle "Walkin' in the rain without a coat huh? You tryin' to prove something? Or are you just outta your mind?"

"I'm just enjoying the rain, is that a crime?" You retorted, still keeping up your façade.

"It is when it's 10 pm in one of the most dangerous cities in the world." The Don laughed "Why don't you get in and I'll take you home." He opened the door and moved over so you could get in, which you do gratefully.

"I've gotta be honest here... I can't go home." You admit, your façade dropping slightly.

"Oh? Why not?" The Don asked, giving you an odd look "you don't live by yourself?"

You shook your head "no, the person I was living with lashed out and kicked me out of the house."

The Don gave a nod of acknowledgement "I'm guessing they didn't wanna live with a criminal huh? Well I'll handle the living situation in the morning."

The car started moving again just as The Don got a call. You glance out the window, the rumble from the car engine mixed with sound of the rain hitting the car windows made it easy to slip out of reality, The Don's voice growing muffled.

You weren't sure how much time had passed but the next thing you knew you were pulled back into reality by Don Maroni's hand on your shoulder "Come on, let's get you inside and in some dry clothes."

You looked around trying to figure out where you were, your eyes eventually landing on the large mansion like house that stood towering above the car. "Where...?" Before you could finish you were cut off by Don Maroni

"We are at my home, figured it would be better to just bring you here for the night instead of tryin' to find a hotel room at midnight" He chuckled "don't worry, there's security at all hours, so no one's gunna get to you." He said, holding his hand out to you.

You took his hand, allowing him to help you out of the car. He let you into the house and sent someone off to find some dry clothes.

"So, you wanna explain why you were wandering the streets alone in a thunderstorm? I know you said you were kicked out but... elaborate, who kicked you out? Do I need to have a talk with 'em?" He almost demanded.

"It was my mom and her boyfriend, they found out I joined the mafia and my mom lost her shit." You take a deep breath before continuing "her boyfriend bodyslammed me to the wall and she got in my face, punching the wall beside my head while she screamed. I had to kick her bastard in the family jewels just to get him to let go of me, and once I got outside she told me to never come back." You actually felt some relief getting that off your chest, but can't help but feel like you simultaneously triggered something much worse. You could feel the boss's energy shift as you explained what happened, you knew the mob treated eachother like family, and when someone hurts a family member the whole mob takes it personally. You knew you shouldn't have told Don Maroni what had actually happened, but you also knew that lying was off the table, so what were you supposed to do?

Before anything else could be said a man dressed in black emerged from a hallway carrying some clothes. Don Maroni thanked him before turning back to you "get changed, I'll have Louie here bring you to my office, we need to talk about some stuff."

Shit. Were you about to lose your place because of what your mom did?

Louie took you up to one of the guest rooms and left you to get changed, which you did rather quickly. Once you were done you stepped out of the room and met Louie at the end of the hall. He shot you a soft smile before leading you to Don Maroni's office where the Don sat at his desk looking over some paperwork. He looked up upon hearing the door open and smiled seeing you standing there "good, you changed, sit down, I think there's a few things we need to talk about."

You hesitantly sat down as Louie left the room, closing the door behind himself. Before the Don could speak you spoke up "Sir.. if this is about what my mother did, I am very sorry, I didn't know she was going to react that way, please don't let her actions reflect on me..." you were almost in tears, your voice shaking as you spoke. Don Maroni shook his head "Nah, that's not why you're here, you ain't losing your job, and you definitely aren't gettin' whacked for what she did. What really needs to be talked about is what her boyfriend did to you and what kind of punishment he deserves."

You were shocked to say the least "punishment?" Don Maroni nodded his head "What he did to you is unacceptable, he could have seriously injured you, or even killed you, I can't have a man that almost killed one of my best workers walking free without any punishment." His words brought a light dusting of pink to your cheeks, you were about to speak but he continued "I wanted to ask you what you think his punishment should be, but if you'd like I can leave it up to my men, let them get a little aggression out."

He sat back in his chair "What do you think?" That was a hard question to answer... did you really want him to suffer?

Of course you did. You would love to see him ripped to shreds.

But did you really want to tell the Don that? You knew he'd have it done with no hesitation but you weren't sure you wanted to be the one who ordered your mother's boyfriend's death.

You shook your head "I think your men would have more fun torturing him, let them have fun." He nodded with a smile and picked up the landline phone, dialing a number you couldn't quite see. He spoke with a man for a few minutes before asking you for your mother's address which you gladly gave.

End of part one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hi this one has been in my drafts for quite a while and I'm sorry! I'm posting it now so please enjoy!

#gotham #don sal maroni #sal maroni #salvatore maroni #don maroni #x reader

[pirateboy]

I don't know if I still have any gothamites around, but to any of you that are, don maroni was in my dream last night and I was coming on to him (ofc) and I felt like we were getting somewhere but then I had to wake up :( one of the saddest moments of my life fr

#hes soooo hot to me still #LMAO doesnt gotham post for months - comes back with this #gotham #don maroni #marchibald's

[thecrowinacrown]

I had a dream that The Gotham show had a spin-off and it was called "Don Maroni", yet it was about Falcone. And when I goodled it, it had coming of age-sunny summer vibe to it, with Van Gogh painting as the cover. :/

#gotham #i should def go to sleep earlier than 6am #don maroni #carmine falcone #madina speaks

[trauermaerchen]

oswald: *sees an old man* that's my new sugar daddy right there

#oswald cobblepot #oswald is a babygirl #gotham #don falcone #don maroni

[mysecretwindowuniverse]

Season 1 | Oswald + The Dons

#Gotham #oswald cobblepot #sal maroni #carmine falcone #season 1 #so much ink could be spilled about oswald's /fascinating/ dynamic with the dons #and this gifset definitely highlights a specific component of the interactions #unfortunately i haven't been able to properly articulate the jumble of thoughts in my head into something even remotely legible #if i'm ever able to translate thoughts-to-text i'll loop back and write it all out #gotham rewatch #my gifs #mine

[theparadoxmachine]

Idc Oswald falling asleep with his head on Gabe's shoulder was cute

#gotham #oswald cobblepot #the penguin #robin lord taylor #he 100% deserved this #he basically got put in time out-um-i mean jail by Don Maroni #for raising taxes on fishermen without permission #maroni told him those guys risk their lives to feed people and accused him of hubris #so had him arrested to punish him #and like #...yeah.. #not cool Oswald #i still love you though #i can never stay mad at you adorable little killer you #and gabe how can you say you always hated him? you LET him do this #he's so small #tiny bird man #i messed around with the lighting and color but it's a screencap on my phone

[sweetlimeharvest]

Gotham when it goes 8 seconds without a pissing analogy: 😢😨😰😱😓😭🙁😕☹️😣😖😔

#gotham #Jerome spraying the cheerleader with the gasoline #Don Maroni spilling Oswald’s wine to make it look like he peed himself #Edward Nygma INFAMOUS piss kink scene

[hyperionshipping]

Im trying to think really hard abt s/is. My Gotham s/i is a fucking nuisance to G.P.D. bc he doesn't let himself get caught but he leaves evidence.

Meanwhile Hearts is NOT subtle when kicking around as a citizen. He hangs around places that like really SHOULD out him but people are kinda dumb and Hearts in his villian outfit and Hearts in his civilian clothes is two VERYYY different vibes

#He keeps bugging Oswald to 'play some rock music in here c'mon' and Oswald is like 'I will NOT be playing that' and Hearts justs goes 'lame #' in a veryy jokey sorta way #I need to watch Gotham again I wanna do more with Hearts. B/C like his thing is he doesn't align with one major crime family/group but he #always seems to *learn* something or other and people don't like him for that #of course thet don't also like the killing he does A Lot of that but that's besides the point #GOD. oh my goddddd it could b so cool for hearts to run like a poker place in a later season maybe? maybe it doesnt last maybe its what mak #es him get caught idk but THAT could be fun #tbf Hearts was kinda taken under Don Maroni but like not enough anyone ever did anything n I'm unsure if He knew little baby Elias WAS Hear #ts #tricks rambles #need 2 think 2 distract my head from Other Thoughts U.U

[i-smoke-chapstick]

'COME ON EILEEN!, [PART ONE]

-GOTHAM!VICTOR ZSASZ X READER-

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; You're not used to being seen, especially not by Jim Gordan. And especially not by Don Carmine Falcone.

⋆ tags/warnings. GOTHAM!victor x female reader. SLOW BURN!!! This is a 4 part fic. LOTS OF PLOT SET-UP!! AGE GAP ROMANCE! (reader is still in highschool). Some gore in the beginning. Takes a while for reader to meet Victor. Can I write a gotham fic without Victor being obsessive? Victor ends up getting REALLY protective later on. But also, eventual really soft Victor. Like, you're his world. Set during season 1.

⋆ 'PART ONE, - 'PART TWO, - 'PART THREE, - 'PART FOUR,

Special thanks to @adalwolfgang for giving me the courage to write this teehee

♫ “You are far too young and clever.” Come On Eileen by Dexys Midnight Runners

Your life had been strange. Ever since you moved to this goddamn city. You're parents thought it would be such a grand idea; move to the city of innovation. With WayneTech and a good classy old fashioned vibe. More like the city of crime, you think. This place is an absolute shit hole!

Well, sometimes it's a shit hole. Other times you understand the strange appeal. The school wasn't half bad, aside from the weird drug dealers you saw counting money in the hallways.

You made plenty of acquaintances, but not enough, really. All of the gothamite students kind of stuck to their own. Rich cliques and street trash. You didn't really fit in as a new comer.

Everything got even more complicated one day after class. You decided to stay late at the library, brushing up on whatever homework you had. Apparently you stayed later than you thought you had, because once you were done, the night had clouded over into a cool darkness.

You knew you shouldn't be by yourself at night in gotham. It was the biggest rule to living in this city. So, you quickly packed your shit and left.

Coming outside, the parking lot was damn near empty. You gripped the straps of your book bag and centered yourself. It would be a small walk home. No harm no foul.

Well, your false confidence quickly died out when you heard a man wailing from behind you. You wanted to keep walking, but you couldn't. Damn you and your moral compass.

You made the decision to sneak a peak behind you. Just behind the overarching brick wall of Gotham high, laid a student. And another man hanging over him. With a bloody baseball bat.

Your ears began to ring as you saw the face of the student, practically decimated and beaten inwards. You could only make out the vague words of "Help me!" and "This will teach you to bring me my money on time." Their voices overlapped, and the sound of metal hitting skin in a loud ca-thunk and a crunch. The man getting beat looked at you for help; well, with what was left of his face.

You immediately knew this was a weird drug deal altercation, and also none of your business. You turned on your heel and bolted, running for your life. The sound of the baseball and the sight of your fellow student beaten bloody haunted you the whole way home.

The next morning, it was all over the news. Well, not all over the news. Front page scoops were reserved for "Maroni's new take over! What's next for Gotham's Underground?" and "Wayne Enterprises launches new aerospace tech!" But if you looked hard enough and switched a few channels, you'd see the headline clear as day.

"Gotham High Student Found Beaten To Death on Campus"

You couldn't eat your breakfast that morning. A few bites an you needed to throw it up. You couldn't erase the memory. You did nothing.

You mustered up the strength to go to school though, knowing you would have too, or your mom would kill you. You felt sick the whole time getting dressed, brushing your teeth, and closing the door. What's worse was the walk to school, seeing your steps retraced from the night before. The city seemed awfully more cheery in the daylight.

When you finally made it to the campus, your heart dropped. At least 3 cop cars pulled up, caution tape and flashing camera lights. The body of the man was in the same spot you'd seen him in.

A cop was instructing wandering and gossiping students to get a move on to class and to stop staring. You heard them whispering. But you stayed stuck, unable to move. The memories played in your head.

You could hear the muffled yelling of the cop telling you to move, but you didn't seem to register it. Neither could you register the gruff voice of a man telling the cop to wait a minute.

A hand on your shoulder pulled you out of your thoughts. You turned around in a spasm, coming face to face with Jim fucking Gordan.

You'd seen him on the TV before. He'd been the cities hero as of late. Took out the balloon man. Red hood gang. Even the Wayne killer. Tons of others. You swallowed.

In a surprisingly gentle movement, he firmly grasped your shoulder and guided you to a more private area, away from the judgey glances of other students and cops who merely rolled their eyes at him. One in particular, which you knew to be his partner, Harvey Bullock, let out an obnoxious groan while taking a bite of a Sandwich.

"Hello. My name is Jim Gordan." He spoke to you softly.

"I know who you are." The words came out more defensive than you intended them too. He backed up a little bit, mouth open and nodding. He politely removed his hand from your shoulder.

He flashed a small, awkward smile. It made you furrow your brows.

"Did you see anything that happened here last night? Anything at all." His voice lowered to a whisper. Something about his voice was gentle, charismatic. His words illicited the memory of the student in a pool of his own blood.

Jim studied you and your every movement, and when you flinched, his eyes lit up. But he kept the same serious and soft expression.

"You did, didn't you?" He urged, bending down just a tad to be at your level. You backed up. "Listen, I need you to tell me what you saw."

You stayed silent. He inhaled through his nose.

"No one is going to hurt you. I promise. Just tell me your name, give me a statement." His tone is more firm this time, and nods in the far off direction of his partner. "I don't want to have to drag you down to the station."

You mulled over what he said, before sighing.

You bit your lip, and spilled your guts.

He took note of everything you said eagerly. And when he was done, he gave you a small thank-you. You nodded, and assumed that would be the end of things.

Hah! You were wrong.

Almost half the student body had seen you and Jim Gordan talking. Before long, you were the talk of the town. The newbie in town was privy to a case with Jim Gordan.

When Gordan caught the culprit? Now that was front page news. One of Maroni's men caught in the act of beating an underage student half to death over a few milligrams of coke. Selling it to minors actively. It reflected poorly on the entirety of his underground empire. Apparently even criminals had a conscious.

And in a strange way, you also got to reap some benefits. You made a lot of new friends now, on both sides of the school. The rich cliques applauded you for helping rid the city of cretins and return it to its former glory. Some rumors had spread, and now the street trash students thought you were some badass who gave Gordan a tough time before helping him. It was all bullshit- you thought. You just helped with a stupid case.

But now, it seemed you were the only one with a hand in both pools of water. And god, it was a lot of connections. You knew about every murder cover-up the rich kids parents paid for. You knew about every ATM robbery and drug deal the street kids made. Every creepy teacher sleeping with a student. Every staff member who faked their taxes. You were a walking encyclopedia of all the crimes in Gotham committed by students and adults alike.

You didn't ask for it. But...you were glad you could help, in away. None of your friends were really real. No, the only real friend you had was Jim Gordan.

He'd made it a point to come to you for almost everything now. Figured you made a better information source than penguin. Plus, you didn't ask for anything in return. You were just thankful for the company.

He'd come down and meet you in the library when he needed you, after school, away from prying eyes. He'd sneak the both of you into a storage closet, before asking for your help.

You'd asked him a few times if you could get involved more; first hand. You thought you could do more than just being a reference. But he always just gave you that awkward smile. "Next time." He'd promised. Next time never came.

You were getting tired of your role as an informant. And you weren't the only one who noticed.

You damn near kicked and clawed. You woke up one day, blindfolded and strapped to a leather chair. Light leaked through the blindfold, and you went to scream. But there was tape covering your mouth

You knew you shouldn't have told Jim Gordan any of this shit. God, were you a snitch?!? A rat for the GCPD. Of course some gang was going to tie you up and kill you at one point!

You felt your chest heave as you struggled against your restraints.

A voice boomed, and it shut up your struggling.

"Miss L/N." It was a mans voice. Much older. "Forgive me for shocking you."

The blindfold was taken off your eyes by another figure behind you. You squinted as the light hit your retinas, and you stood face to face with Don Carmine Falcone.

You were rendered speechless.

"Let me give you some context here," He continued, and you felt your heart drop. "I have a proposition, of sorts."

You breathed against the tape on your mouth, deathly silent. A proposition. What the hell did that mean? Were you going to get to choose the way you died?

"See, I admire those who have methodical approaches. Good work ethic. You seem to have both." He circled you, standing up. "I heard whispers of a young girl that seemed to have wormed her way into the GCPD."

He paused, looking you directly in the eye.

"You are an incredibly useful asset, Miss L/N. Does Gordan tell you that enough?" The man urged. You felt your heart rate settle; and your mind do flips. No, you thought. He really doesn't.

"...I propose, you do a job for me. A small one, I assure you." He put his hand up. "You attend school with a student whose father is deep into Maroni's operation. I assume you know who I'm speaking of."

You do.

"I also assume you know all about where said man resides, with the rest of his crew. I want you to tell me where exactly that is. And, I want you to go there with Victor."

The words coming out of his mouth were terrifying. Victor...Victor, Victor, Victor. You repeated the name over and over. And then it clicked.

Victor Zsasz.

Oh god, this couldn't be happening. A million questions rushed through out your head. Jim had told you about his incident with him.

You managed to turn to look over your shoulder in the direction Falcone nodded too. Sure enough, there the man stood.

Victor looked at you stoically, leather hand coming up to wave at you, like this was a joke. A frightening smile played on his lips as he took in your shaking form.

You looked back to Falcone, and he gently tore off the tape covering your mouth, and undid the restraints on your right hand. You breathed shakily.

"Why do you want me to go with Zsasz? I get being an informant- why do you want me to go kill a bunch of guys?!?" Your voice sounded strained. You meant for it to be more confident. You flexed your wrist where the restraints had been.

Falcone nodded. "That's for me to know." He stated bluntly, obviously not further elaborating. "Do we have a deal?"

"And If I say no?" You wavered, watching the Don stretch out a hand to shake on it. Falcone merely pursed his lips and frowned.

In a swift movement, he motioned back to Victor who stared you down intently. Victor mouthed the words, "I'm gonna stab you." With a stabbing gesture of his hand.

You swallowed.

And then you shook Falcone's hand.

#x reader #gotham #gotham x reader #batman #batman rogues #batman x reader #gotham villains x reader #batman rouges gallery #dc comics #victor zsasz x reader #victor zsasz headcanons #gotham victor zsasz #victor zsasz gotham

[goggles-mcgee]

A Little Birdy Told Me 19

Beginning

Last Chapter           Next Chapter

Summary:  Just another day at Gotham Academy, well, Damian wished it was. His acquaintances seem to like to make it anything but.

Damian was not having a good day despite his father’s wishes. For the record, he did try to have a good day, it’s not like he purposefully went into the school with the intent to not, but it seemed like any good luck he had had in the last couple of days (which wasn’t much mind you) ran out. The whispers were what had tipped him off to begin with, usually he could brush them off as nonsensical youth gossip and carry on but the stares coupled with the whispers put him a bit on edge. He hadn’t done anything to his knowledge to warrant the behavior he had observed when he walked in but he didn’t let it show that anything was amiss. He merely strode to his locker and dropped off his afternoon class books before shutting it and locking it swiftly. Damian had tried to be nonchalant about his locker in the beginning, but when it had been broken into in his first week he had been livid, and upgraded the security courtesy of Drake. Apparently some schoolmates just wanted a peek into the newest Wayne’s locker and see if there was anything damning they could use against his Father to sell to some tacky tabloid. Needless to say, he and his father had been less than amused and in Damian’s case, hopeful that he would not have to stay in the ridiculous establishment. 

As he had said, luck was not on his side back then, so why would it be now? 

“Oh our favorite and sometimes benevolent Ice Prince of Gotham Academy.” an annoyingly familiar voice sang out as the body it belonged to slumped against the locker next to Damian’s. “Have you heard the latest gossip, my liege?” 

“Hardy. How many times have I told you I do not listen to drivel?” Damian replied in the most monotone voice he could pull-off. The one that made Drake throw pillows at him because he disliked how robotic it made him sound. 

“Oh, of course, of course Milord. But…this “drivel” as you call it has to do with you.” Claude Hardy, active member of their drama club, well-liked, class clown and as always an avid gossiper told Damian. Damian didn’t talk to him a lot, or well, it was better to say he tried not to. With Hardy came Allegra Vogel: accomplished flutist, ballerina, the queen of gossip and his class’ president, Alan Lopez: writer, soccer player and like his friends Hardy and Vogel, a gossip and Sebastian Allaway: one of the school’s best track members and whose parents own and run The Cottage, the restaurant that replaced Bamonte’s Restaurant after Don Maroni died and The Maroni Family dissolved (assumedly). An odd group of…almost friends, more so associates maybe to him, he wasn’t sure yet if they were friends but Damian would admit they were entertaining at the least.

“Can you never just get to the point, Claude?” The newest addition to the friend group, and Damian’s associate circle asked dramatically. Damian’s gaze shifted to look over at Gotham Academy’s latest transfer Chloé Bourgeois. Nicknamed Queen Bee by the friend group, but Damian noticed she always smiled sadly when she was called that. Perhaps her friends noticed too because Queen Bee quickly shortened to just Queenie. Both nicknames were ridiculous if you asked Damian, he somewhat disliked nicknames. It was fine when Dick did it, because he did it out of affection, Jason did it to be a dick and Tim did it to be annoying. Well that was his theory in any case. 

“You missed it too Queenie!” Hardy helpfully pointed out. 

“Traffic was worse than usual but I’m not that late Drama King. English hasn’t even begun.” Bourgeois snarked back.

“Bourgeois has a point. The school day has barely begun, how have we missed anything vital?” Damian asked with a furrowed brow as he closed his locker and led the group in the direction of their English class. 

“It’s sad how you both don’t get here early enough to socialize like proper socialites,” Hardy sighed dramatically before he perked up and looked at them with a glint in his eye. One Damian was not a fan of as it often painted trouble for him. “That class exchange thing, the one Damian’s father is funding, the class arrived the other day and oh boy was Headmaster Hammer not amused!”

Damian stiffened but kept walking, the news startled him but he was not going to let it show. He could not let anyone know he knew about the class already and especially not about Marinette. “Oh? I thought they were supposed to start next week? That’s what Father said. I would also like to point out that one cannot be late to gossip as I was not here to begin with.”

“Exactly. At least Wayne has brain cells that work.” Bourgeois teased. 

“Are we teasing Claude?” And now another person was walking with them and Damian had to resist the urge to sigh loudly. It was too early to be this social. 

“Don’t we always Allegra?” Bourgeois asked as though the answer was obvious which to be fair it was. The group did tease Claude an absurd amount, but he just made it so easy. 

“Oh yes of course. How silly of me to forget.” The other blonde responded with a teasing laugh.

“Why are you guys so cruel? I’m just here, existing. I’m just a little guy.” Claude pouted. 

“You are taller than us.” Damian pointed out a bit bitterly. He was of average height for his age but it seemed like a lot of his male classmates surpassed average in grade school. 

“ANYWAY. Sir Ice Prince and Queenie, you both weren’t here on Friday-” 

“I had an appointment, I told the group this on Thursday.” Bourgeois interjected.

“I didn’t want to leave Richard alone after what happened at Wayne Tower on Thursday so my father excused me from class.” Damian threw in, in some way it was the truth. Dick had been rather…wound up after the situation at the Tower and the run in with Brat Chat hadn’t helped anything. He may be playing it off but Damian knew his older brother well and he knew that Dick was holding everything in still. So it was no surprise that Dick was sticking around Marinette more than the rest of them. He was worried about the girl, that much was clear and it didn’t take a genius to guess it was because he felt responsible for her being Fear Toxined when he was there and able to do something, but the fact of the matter was there really wasn’t much he could have done. Dick was stubborn though and would continue to blame himself until Dupain-Cheng was safe or until Damian could beat sense into him. He had no problem exercising the second option. Dick was too hard on himself. 

“That’s understandable. How is he doing?” Vogel asked softly. 

“Better.” He replied honestly. 

“I’m glad Dick is doing better, but you and Chloé really did miss one hell of an…interesting day.” Hardy continued. Damian merely hummed in response, he knew it was futile to try and argue that he was not interested because Hardy didn’t care. Or just didn’t believe him; either option was equally annoying. “Like I said, that French class the school is doing the exchange with arrived on Friday. Like the whole class. I can tell you guys now, they did not make a good impression on our dear schoolmates.”

“Oh…yeah…the class exchange. You said they’re French?” Bourgeois asked nonchalantly, though Damian could see her body stiffen as stutter as they walked before she collected herself. 

“Yeah. I thought they’d be nice to speak with. Especially this small group that had been discussing music but…” Vogel scrunched her nose up, it made her distaste well-known. Though, Vogel was not one to hide how she felt to begin with so the expression wasn’t a surprise. Especially to Damian who had knowledge of the class already and he knew he wouldn’t like most, if not all of them. “Instead of telling me about their songs and band and such they only spoke about this girl in their class. I swear, you would think she was newly Sainted or the like with how they looked at her and talked about her. It was like experiencing a cult without actually being in the cult.”

“Oh yeah. It was some real Jim Jones’ shit.” Hardy readily agreed.

“Language.” Damian couldn’t help but quip. He was too used to telling Jason, Tim and Steph that so they would have to add to Alfred’s ‘Swear Jar.’ 

“And the teacher acted like their behavior was normal!” Hardy continued as though he hadn’t heard Damian. Brat. “She acted like they were perfect little angels.”

“It was disturbing.” Vogul shook her head.

“The teacher…” Bourgeois was inspecting her nails, feigning disinterest but Damian could see the subtle shake in her hand. “What was her name?”

“Why? Think it might be your old one Queenie?” Hardy asked with a smile but the twitch of his brows told Damian he was worried about the answer Bourgeois might give. “What are the chances of that?”

“Just- What was her name, Claude?” 

“Uh, something with a ‘B.’”

“You’re beyond help Claude. How do you not remember?” Vogel asked.

“Look. In my defense, I don’t like her and I don’t pay attention to things I don’t like nor care for.”

“You’re horrible. Her name was Caline Bustier. Her class was supposed to be placed in ours but apparently now, that’s not even certain. I think I heard someone say Headmaster Hammer was not at all pleased with how they came in and demanded their schedules. I guess their class president was supposed to be present but she was not there. Word on the street and from the horse’s mouth is that she went missing after the whole Two-Face, Scarecrow situation at The Tower.” Vogel was as connected as ever. Damian was impressed she had all that info already given it had only been a few days since everything went down. Not to mention a weekend passed, which meant some of her sources were not available to talk with, or so Damian assumed. She probably had them all on speed dial for all he knew.

Another thing he observed? All of them looked at him like he had answers. He did, but he wasn’t going to say anything, it was for Marinette’s safety after all. So he sighed like he did best, “Even if I knew something, I wouldn’t tell you.”

They nodded. “Fair.” Hardy said with a shrug, he was used to those kinds of answers. He would have to be since he had been bugging Damian since he started at Gotham Academy. 

Bourgeois had stopped walking and though he wanted to just head into the classroom, it was quite literally fifteen steps away from them and if he went ahead it would be incredibly rude to ignore whatever was bothering the girl. Alfred impressed upon him how a gentleman behaved and leaving Bourgeois in this situation was most definitely against Alfred’s teachings. As though the man himself was watching him, Damian stopped walking and barely held in his complaints. His grandpa was terrifying when he wanted to be, especially when it came to manners. Damian shuddered at the memories of Alfred’s etiquette training but managed to hide it as he turned to face Bourgeois who honestly looked close to passing out right there in the middle of the hallway. “Bustier?” She gasped.

“Chloe?” Vogel asked as she placed a hand on the other blonde’s shoulder. 

“Oh my god, they are your old class.” It was a statement rather than a question from Hardy. The Style Queen Heiress’s reaction was all the answer they needed but she did give a stiff nod. The answer was…interesting to say the least but it also put Damian on edge. If that was her old class then she must have known about Lila Rossi, granted she had been at their school for about a year now but due to the family’s research, Damian knew the Lila situation had been going on for about four years. So Bourgeois had been in that class when it was happening, Damian knew the school sounded familiar, he just couldn’t remember why. He, of course, had done his own research into Chloé Bourgeois when she had been announced as the new transfer student but admittedly he hadn’t dug too far as Dick and Alfred told him that was not the way to make friends. He couldn’t help being cautious, it was a skill he had to learn very early in the League, so anyone new that came into his life he couldn't help but be suspicious of.

Honestly, he did the bare basics of a background research on Bourgeois that the fact he was being surprised by a fact he could have found out if it weren’t for ‘manners’ and ‘courtesy’, he would have found out about Bustier’s class before the exchange program was finalized. He could have prevented so many annoyances by arguing with his father about them. Though that would have meant never meeting Dupain-Cheng… he didn’t know how to feel about that. “We can speak about this after class. The bell is about to ring and I for one would rather not be counted late while I have the ability to be on time in mere steps.” Damian announces as he walked on, he would gather whatever information he could from Bourgeois at lunch, he had time. 

_______________________

[LUNCH]

Chloé took a deep breath in to calm herself for what felt like the millionth time that day. Ever since she found out her former class was the one that won the spot for the Gotham Education Exchange she had felt like her heart was about to beat out of her chest all day. She didn’t want to face them, she wasn’t ready to face them, ever since her move to Gotham Chloé had changed and she knew it was for the better. There was no Hawkmoth in Gotham, so no reason to not feel, and well, Jean-Claude made her go to therapy and though she found it ridiculous to begin with, she had to admit it did actually help if you put the work in. It was the end of collège for her when she realized just how absolutely miserable she was. Her parents’ fighting had gotten worse, her classmates were all sheep, she knew that before but she thought they had grown some kind of backbone when Marinette started standing up for herself but then that liar joined the class and things changed. It was terrifying to see just how fast everyone turned on the person they called their ‘Everyday Ladybug’. If they turned on her that fast, what would happen to Chloé? 

What happened was nothing she hadn’t expected. Much like Dupain-Cheng she had been sent to the back, at first she had been there with Sabrina but by 4’eme* the redhead had left her. She had the mercy of not being targeted by some of the classmates “pranks” like Dupain-Cheng had been but no one spoke to her, no one acknowledged her unless they absolutely had to. Chloé had tried to get her dad to do something about it but that was when he and her mother’s fights started getting bad and they paid less attention to her. The only one who seemed to care what was happening to her was Jean-Claude, he tried to help as best he could but there was only so much he could do. She thought Mme Bustier would do something as she had always been on her side but when Chloé tried to complain she was hit with that good old infamous ‘good example’ bullshit. It was like a slap to the face. Usually hearing that would have brought a smug smile to her face because it wasn’t her getting that talk, she was the one who got her way and the others were supposed to be the ‘good examples’. 

It threw her for a fucking loop is what it did and it sent her in a deep depression. She was so used to getting her way by throwing tantrums, throwing money or just in general throwing something someone’s way, then all of a sudden she couldn’t get her way by doing what she used to do and she was lost, utterly lost. Her mother and dad kept fighting, sometimes she expected it to get physical with how close both got to one another while shouting and maybe that was the one saving grace that never happened but she never wanted to see her mother throw her heels at her dad ever again. That was as physical as it had gotten and it scared her because one of those times one of the heels almost hit her when she tried to enter the room and beg them to stop fighting. That was the last time she tried. By her last year, 3’eme, they had at least taken to fighting with each other through their assistants and poor Jean-Claude in a ridiculous imitation of Mlle Sancoeur (she never did like when Chloé called her by her first name despite the fact she has known her since Chloé was in diapers.) But when they got lawyers involved they didn’t fight over one thing, one important thing, her. 

No. She was thrown around like the shared house furniture trying to be divided, except where they argued about who kept what piece of furniture, they argued why the other should keep her. They did it with her in the room. It was then that she realized that neither of her parents’ really loved her, oh she always knew with her mother there was never any love, but when her dad didn’t fight for her? It hurt more than she cared to admit and that was the day of her final akumatization, Folk-Tail. From pictures she had seen her hair had grown down to her feet in its ponytail but it took on the likeness of a scorpion’s tail, her skin had turned gray but it looked like she had cried after just putting on mascara that was definitely not waterproof since she had black streaks starting from her eyes going down her face, she wore what she always imagined Princess Potentilla wore when she was made to live in the small house by her jealous mother and on top of her ponytail sat a crown of forget-me-nots. The tale of Princess Potentilla and Prince Narcissus had always been her favorite fairytale. It was no surprise that her akuma had been fairytale based since at that moment in time all she had wanted was for her life to be like the fairytales Jean-Claude had often read to her. She just wanted a happy ending. 

Apparently her power was to assign roles to people, roles of famous fairy tale characters or creatures that she felt they reflected. Since she herself had been a sad reflection of Potentilla, her father was of course King Cloverleaf and her mother Queen Frivola. Those she did not personally know were given basic roles like a villager or the like. She had gotten to most of her class given they were hanging out at the park that day in celebration of their last year of collège. It was no surprise that she found out Lila had been turned into the Big Bad Wolf, what did surprise her was that she had hit Dupain-Cheng and the girl had become Melinette, the helpful, powerful fairy from her favorite story. It shouldn’t have been so surprising and yet it was. It was after she had been defeated that she reflected on it all, her akuma had been surprisingly truthful with what she herself felt but was too scared to acknowledge. Her father was only interested in what had his attention like the glory of being Mayor and his true love running his hotel much like King Cloverleaf loved being King but only because it gave him the means to hunt to his full pleasure. Her mother was a vain woman who cared too much about her reputation much like Queen Frivola who thought herself the most beautiful woman and threw the most lavish balls but when she saw the beauty of her daughter, she hid her from the kingdom out of jealousy. She had no Prince Narcissus. Yet she had Marinette, determined, helpful, kind Marinette who was very much like Melinette, the fairy who raised the Prince. 

If she had hit Hawkmoth with her ‘tail’ he for sure would have been Grumedan the Evil Enchanter. It was that akumatization and everything else going on around her that made her snap. She didn’t want to be like her mother or her father. Hell, she had spent so many years trying to be like her mother in an attempt to get the woman to just get her name right! Chloé didn’t even know who she really was but she wanted to find out and she knew that wouldn’t happen in Paris. She broke down to Jean-Claude about it all, she cried for the first time in a long time, she didn’t care if she got akumatized again, she wanted to cry, she needed to cry. That was when Jean-Claude took charge, he yelled at her parents, demanded a meeting with them and the lawyers outside of Paris because he knew emotions would be high and he demanded parental rights over Chloé. In some ways it shocked her and at the same time it didn’t because he was always the one taking care of her. He wanted her. He cared for her. Chloé had zoned out after his demand because she was just so overwhelmed, someone actually wanted her; she missed the fight and following negotiations. Since her parents didn’t want to take care of her Jean-Claude would be her parent, they wouldn’t change her name since Jean-Claude fully expected her parents to still provide for her.

Oh she knew they fought that with everything they had but Jean-Claude told her after the fact that he essentially blackmailed them. If they provided for her by sending money to her and Jean-Claude after their move and if they kept her as their heir for their respective businesses until she was old enough to decide if she wanted to take over either business, then he wouldn’t go to the media with some illegal stuff he knew had gone on and absolute neglect the put their child through. They folded quickly since there was nothing more important to Audrey and André Bourgeois than their reputations. Before she knew it, after all the necessary paperwork was completed, she and Jean-Claude moved in with his sister Margot in Gotham, New Jersey. It was quite the move and it was hard to adjust but Jean-Claude was patient with her but firm, they arrived in the summer which was the perfect time for her to start therapy apparently. She thought it would be hard adjusting to Gotham and its unique brand of crime but it really wasn’t. Costumed weirdos running around causing havoc? Old news. No Miraculous Cure? Now that, that was scary and took time getting used to. 

All in all she thought she was getting better and growing. She had friends, actual friends! She liked hanging out with them, listening to them, just in general being with them, she didn’t have to fake anything around them. Sure she had a hard time with Damian but that was just because he was so standoffish and kind of reminded her of Felix which wasn’t great but she was starting to separate the two in her mind. Though both boys were fond of their families, Damian wasn’t as conniving as Felix nor as fake, he was simply blunt and in some way it was refreshing. She liked their little odd group of friends and one acquaintance who was becoming a friend and she didn’t want anything ruining it. Especially not her old class but she was still fragile and they had the power to set her back and she didn’t want that at all. But Chloé Bourgeois was not someone who bowed to anyone and she wouldn’t start now but…she would talk to Jean-Claude about it all and maybe see if her therapist would be available for more sessions or even on speed dial. 

“Chloé?” Allegra’s voice tore through the murky fog that her thoughts had become and she finally realized she had somehow made it to their table. 

“Hey. You okay Chlo?” Sebastian asked. 

“This is about your former class, is it not?” Damian asked but the way he said it made it sound like it wasn’t a question. It made her wince.

“Damian. A little more tact next time please.” Allegra said as she pinched the bridge of her nose. 

“But he’s not wrong is he?” Claude asked next. 

Chloé looked at her friends and tried to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat, her hands clenched and unclenched around her lunch tray that she hadn’t noticed she didn’t set down and she took in another deep breath. “I am…I’m scared. I was not the best person to them as I’ve told you all before, I was a bully. But towards the end of my years with that class things changed. They changed. They didn’t speak to me. At all. Me and Mari-another classmate, we were isolated, basically banished to the back to be all but forgotten. Well…I was. Dupai-the other classmate, she wasn’t as…fortunate?”

“Fortunate?” Allan echoed.

Chloé nodded. “I would take my fate over hers any day. I was forgotten in a way, but they did bad talk me and insult me when they knew I could hear but they never acknowledged my existence. It was like I wasn’t there in the room while they were talking. But Ma-my classmate, they bullied her, worse than I ever did and I admit I bullied her for years. While I did it out of jealousy and to just get her mad or in trouble, they did it to break her. I did nothing to help. I was going through things, yes, but that’s no excuse and I don’t know how I’m going to face any of them.” 

It was quiet. Awkwardly quiet. Chloé was close to just pushing away from the table and just storming out because everything she was feeling was too much but a small yet loud ‘Hm’ stopped her and called her attention. It came from Damian who was staring at her with his calculating eyes that gave her the creeps from time to time. It was like he was trying to pull your secrets out of you with his eyes. She stared back at him as he stared at her and leaned his elbows on the table, interlocking his fingers and resting his face on his hands. “So you know Lila Rossi. Tell me about her and everything she’s done to Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” 

Well that was not what Chloé expected him to say.

________________________

Chloe Bourgeois

@Bee-utifulMe

School is barely halfway over and I’m already ready to call my therapist.

#imdonewithtoday #gothamacademy #itsbarelynoon 

💞MAPS💞

@ImTheMapImTheMap

RE: Chloe Bourgeois

       @Bee-utifulMe

[School is barely halfway over and I’m already ready…]

Mood.

#Iwasnotpreparedforthatenglishtest #TTuTT 

Notes: 

*4'eme (3'eme) are the last two level of schooling in college (French schooling). College typically goes from ages 11-15, 4'eme is for those 13-14, 3'eme is 14-15.

Prince Narcissus and The Princess Potentilla is a fairy tale that you can read here if you would like context -> HERE

Next Chapter

TAGS: @kurogaya913 @xxmadamjinxx @chez-pezeater @northernbluetongue @sonif50 @drama-queen-supreme @tinybrie @vixen-uchiha @unabashedbookworm @mochinek0 @vivilakitty @mindfulmagics @yin-390 @melicmusicmagic @iglowinggemma28 @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @interobanginyourmom @hunter-shyreen @ginamarie1512 @silvergold-swirl @heldtogetherbysafetypins @luciferge @lunar-wolf-warrior @housekitty711  @kae690 @themcclan @zazzlejazzle @shadowberrybinch @slytherinqueen2432 @huntressofthenight0516 @etheralentity @eliza-bich  @creator-josie @sassy-spocko @mortally-strange-candy @driftingmoonlitpetals @fiendsangelical @minotaurlord9 @spicybelladonna @slytherinhquinn @i-like-fairytail-and-stuff @rikku052 @domena151 @qs-queued-tall-tales @my-name-is-michell  @tamoni112 @crazylittlemunchkin @resignedcatservant @lamestplaceontheinternet @shamefullove  @hypnosharkrebeldreamer @poshplumcot @schrodingers25 @this-is-vander @mariae2900 @st0rmy-w1th1n @imspectralboiii @sinfulfoxbeast @slytherin-batbitch @elspethshadow @nataladriana9 @violatiger8 @paradoxal-occurance @a-fan-of-art @only-lonely-stars-twinkle @cupcakeandkisses @marcy-senpai @doggiediva13 @palvine-of-the-alvins @zeldagatha @redscarlet95 @graduatedmelon @tinyterror333 @echpr @two-faced-biatch @silvia7272 @hufflejournals @queenmj10  @risingmoonyue @sweet-coconut-water @sturchling @corabeth11 @elliecake5 @vgirl-10123   @uwuteamleader @fanficaddict4ever @virgil-is-a-cutie @mintychaewon @whomthefyck @miukiiu @trainflavor @a-star-with-a-human-name @fandom-trapped-03 @sayuricorner @aestheticnpoetic @kawaiigiantjudgefish @motherly-type @sunkenshipsanddreams  @tbehartoo @dagnysdawn @nanakeid @clumsy-owl-4178 @purplesundaze @rowanrouge @captainartsypants @animegirlweeb @novicevoice @chaosace-e @hauntedwintersweets @emootaku-666 @athena452 @lunammoon @risingmoonyue @pirats-pizzacanninibles @ellenlovepl @zestyzealot @agirlwithhercrazydreams @maribat-is-lifeblood  @immafangirl @insane-fangirl-of-everything @kittydemon9000 @make-the-stars-stay @prudencerika  @fantasiame  @liquid-luck-00 @theymakeupfairies   @alysrose-starchild @trippingovermyfeet @solangelo252 @ichigorose @ihavehomeworkbutistillhere @ultimatetornshipper @miraculous-trinity-leo @jayjayspixiepop @mercenaryangel @weirdo-with-no-beardo @lovelyautumnsunflower @varianscarlet @kking13 @bygge00 @i-am-creator28 @missanalysis @miyatalksshit @snowymarvel1205 @alcoholic-barney @echpr @ev-cupcake @its-maemain @atiredartistandacat @whatschooldoesntteachyou @plz-excuse-my-inner-gay @stella17luna

#a little birdy told me #a little birdy told me au #albtm #maribat #MLDC #ml x dc #ml x dc crossover #mldccrossover #ml salt fic #mldccrossover Damian Wayne | Robin #mldccrossover Chloe Bourgeois #mldccrossover quantic kids #mldccrossover mentioned Marinette #marinette dupain-cheng deserves better #adrien agreste salt #ml class salt #lila rossi salt #oh is that a protective damian I see? #is that a chloe redemption i see? #yes to both

[blood-n-tears]

template moment

o⁠(⁠(⁠*⁠^⁠▽⁠^⁠*⁠)⁠)⁠o

♡⁠(⁠˃͈⁠ ⁠દ⁠ ⁠˂͈⁠ ⁠༶⁠ ⁠)

i combumbled multiple pictures together, while slightly thinking if the order made sense or not.

#gotham #oswald cobblepot #the penguin #gotham lore #the gotham lore goes deep #penguin #don maroni #salvatore maroni #oswald cobblepot femboy twink cat sex slave #twink #the things i would do to him if he was real. nothing. its nothing because he would kill me on the spot #oswald chesterfield cobblepot #gotham fox #gotham oswald #gotham penguin

[crossroadsserpent]

Not a sugar baby.

Gotham! Salvatore Maroni x GN! Reader.

(A/N: I know he's not a character with a huge fan base but I love him!)

Summary: Don Maroni is talking with Carmine Falcone trying to come to an agreement, the reader on his lap being held protectively. Falcone glances at the reader and asks Don Maroni to send his 'sugar baby' away, sending him into a flying rage.

♡~♡~♡~♡~

It was getting a little late, Sal had been talking with Carmine for at least two hours and both seemed to get nowhere with their arguments. You were sat on your partner's lap with your head on his shoulder, his arm was wrapped around your waist protectively while he spoke as calmly as possible to the other crime boss.

You hadn't really been listening for the better part of this long conversation but the feeling of Sal's hold on you tightening brought you back to reality. You placed a soft kiss on his neck in an attempt to calm him, but nothing could calm him from what Carmine was about to say. Sal recomposed himself and began to try and lay out a plan they both could agree on but Carmine stopped him "Maybe you should send your sugar baby away first Mr. Maroni, they don't need to be a part of this."

This enraged Sal, you could feel his whole body tensing up, wanting to kill Falcone right on the spot. "They aren't a sugar baby." He said through gritted teeth, his hold on you tightening to an almost painful degree.

"Of course they are, no one dates a crime boss unless they're looking for money or power, you should know that by now Sal. Now, send them away and we can continue." Falcone seemed unphased by the visible anger on Sal's face.

Before you knew it you were sitting in the chair that your partner had been sitting in, watching Sal flip the table before grabbing Falcone by the collar, getting in his face "They are not, and have never been my sugar baby, they are none of your concern."

Falcone chuckled in response "whatever you have to tell yourself to sleep at night. I've seen this time and time again, they will bleed you dry and then leave you."

That seemed to be the last straw for Sal, he threw Falcone onto the floor and before you could stop him a gunshot rang out. But it wasn't from Sal... it was from Falcone. Thankfully the bullet only hit Sal's arm.

Falcone was out the door before Sal could retaliate "just you wait, You'll realize I'm right."

Sal rolled his eyes and sent one of his men after Falcone, leaving you two alone. Sal took you in his arms, ignoring the pain as he holds you to his chest "I'm sorry Y/N..." He kisses the top of your head lovingly.

You shake your head "what he said isn't true, you and I both know that" you look over at his arm and wince seeing all the blood "God, it looks bad... we've got to get you to the hospital"

You were the one that drove him to the hospital, sure he wouldn't have gone if you didn't make him. Sure enough it was a pretty bad bullet wound. You had to sit in the waiting room since you weren't allowed in the operating room with him, it was torture for you, sitting there wondering if they were helping or only making it worse. The longer you sat in the waiting room, the more tears began to form, threatening to fall.

Finally, after almost an hour and a half, you were let into his recovery room. He was still asleep when you entered so you quietly sat down in the chair beside his bed, watching over him as he lay there, unmoving except his chest rising and falling slightly as he took shallow breaths.

It was almost 3 am when he finally woke up, you were still very much awake, watching him, wanting to make sure he was okay before you even thought of rest. Sal slowly opened his eyes, glancing around the room for a minute before his eyes finally landed on you. He smiled softly "Darlin'.... you're still here?" You nodded slightly "of course I am, I'm not just going to leave you here..." you chuckled. Hearing that make Sal's smile wider "I have no idea what kinda nutty shit Falcone was talkin', you ain't no sugar baby, you're my partner."

You nodded again "He's just crazy..." Sal let out a weak chuckle "you're tellin' me, you drove me to the hospital and stayed with me until I woke up, what kind of sugar baby does that?" You rolled your eyes, smiling softly "A very desperate one?" You tease.

Sal chuckles again "True But you're not any of that, I know you, you're an amazing person and the one I fell in love with." That last part made the tears come back, thinking back on how your last relationship went, how it ended... and how Sal was treating you now, you couldn't hold back the tears anymore. Sal noticed you were unusually quiet and strained to look over at you "Y/N? Why are you crying darlin'? Was it something I said?" The sound of worry was evident in his voice. You shook your head, gently taking a hold of his hand "No. Well... sort of... what you said just got me thinking of my last relationship and how they never said anything like that to me, or anything nice for that matter. I just realized how lucky I am to have you." Your voice started to shake at the end as tears began to roll down your cheeks.

"Hey, Hey, don't cry, you deserve the world and I'm more than happy to do anything I have to to give it to you." He squeezed your hand.

They only kept him in the hospital for an hour or so after he woke up and once they were done monitoring him they discharged him. Thankfully you went home to get him clothes before they discharged him so he had clean clothes to leave in. Though the doctors told him to not do you much with his arm, he was constantly trying to hold you or pick you up.

"Honey, let me go, you aren't supposed to be using that arm" You protested as he pulled you closer. "I don't care, I want to hold you and no quack doctor is going to keep me from doin' it." He kissed your head.

"Sal, baby, please, you're going to tear your stitches..." you begged, wanting him to rest. Eventually he did end up listening to you, but only because you agreed to lay with him while he rested.

(Sorry this was long! I really wanted to write something for Don Maroni since I love him so much.)

#gotham #Don Maroni #salvatore maroni #sal maroni #x gn reader

[pirateboy]

Gonna pop up in your inbox just to say that you are 100% correct at putting Maroni at the top (no sarcasm). He's hot, like, VERY hot. Fandom may deny this, but we know the truth. (i hope it's okay to send this off anon)

yesss we know the truth!!! so excited someone agrees with me i'm acc so weak for this man, it was starting to make me feel insane that no one is talking about him. thank u for validating me very glad to have u on my side <3

#he's so hot!!! #it's the truth and i need to say it!! #gotham #marchibald's #yh i might as well do the character tag #don maroni

[3nding]

Persone che associo alla parabola Berlusconiana:

Renzi - Jovanotti - Travaglio - Santoro - Andrea Pezzi - Salvini - Bossi - Meloni - Fabio Volo - Daria Bignardi - Minzolini - Mimun - Previti - Morgan - Sgarbi - Larussa - Grillo - Conte - Dibattista - Dimaio - Gasparri - Fini - - Polverini - Vannacci - Pecoraro Scanio - Demagistris - Ingroia - Vendola - Emiliano - Guzzanti padre - Facchinetti di Eataly - Verdini - Maroni - Feltri - Belpietro - Santanche - Innocenzi - Cruciani/Parenzo - Beatrice Borromeo - Razzi - Scilipoti - Fascina - Carfagna - Veltroni - Rutelli - Samori - Minetti - Bertinotti - Mastella - Dipietro - Capezzone - Brambilla - Moratti - Don verze - Sallusti - Buttiglione - Dalema - Deldebbio - Parodi - Letta padre e figlio - Gori - Lucarelli - Scanzi - Serracchiani - Formigoni - Gramellini - Palombelli - Rita Dallachiesa - Sofri padre è figlio - Senaldi - Marcegaglia - Tremonti - Montezemolo - Lunardi - Scajola - Toffanin - Giorgino - Gelmini - Socci - Fazio - Giovanardi - Casaleggio - Vanzina - Moccia - Tarantini - Cuffaro - Solinas

Quando dicevamo che il berlusconismo non sarebbe finito con Silvio.

[philosopherking1887]

"My own friend, Frankie Carbone, he stabbed him a dozen times. What kind of person plunges a knife into someone over and over?" Don Maroni asks Gertrud about Oswald, calling him a monster and a "cold-blooded psychopath"... and 5 minutes later, in the very same episode, Ed plunges a knife into Tom Dougherty over and over -- 11 times, unless I miscounted.

Oh, the resonances... what kind of person, indeed?

#gotham rewatch #gotham 1.20 #under the knife #oswald cobblepot #gertrud kapelput #edward nygma #gotham riddlebird #nygmobblepot #gotham penguin #gotham riddler