Gotham One Shots

Beautiful

Y/n-Your name. In case some of you don't know that.
So this is the first one of the one shots, my fav is the riddler, whenever I write these you can choose if you wanna imagine them as the gotham young versions or the present day characters. This one is kinda sad and depressing. If you are sensitive to self harm WARNING this may be triggering.
------------------------------------------------------

You sit in your bed, back against the frame, head resting on the wall. You can't help but let a sigh escape your cracked lips.
Your leg hurts. Your arm hurts. Both coverd in little dots of blood. Streaks of red left apon your arm and thighs.
You used the razor from the pencil sharpener Ed had as a spare in his office. Sometimes you used the razor, sometimes one if your pocket knives, occasionally a kitchen knife, but most of the time it was a razor blade.
Most people were disgusted by the thought of cutting. They thought it was dumb and usless. Well, they aren't very wrong. But you didn't care. It felt good.
You loved it. The feeling of the cold blade on your skin, the sound of skin ripping when you made a deep one, the slight sting and burn of the cut. It all felt and look and sounded amazing.
Addicting.
But most of all, your favorite was the blood. The way it slowly dotted to the surface when its a small thin cut.
And the way it filled up a line on your skin like a river when it was deep. And when you stood up it would drop down your legs or arm. It was like a drug, filling up your senses with all sorts of pain and pleasure.

You stayed like that for 5 more minutes, sprawled out on the bed bleeding. Until you heard the door shut. You stood still, frozen, listening to the soft foot steps get louder as the feet creating them came closer to the room. You couldn't move.
The door to your bedroom opened. An exhausted Edward sighing, eyes closed, sets his cane against the wall, and walks towards the bed.
He didn't notice you until he just nears the edge of the bed. Looking up he realizes what you did. He just stares at you for a minute, glancing between your legs and arms, even a few on your stomach "Y-y/n?" he stumbles, soft eyes looking at your own.
"It's nothing", you say, straightening up and sitting the blade in your little case of blades and bandages.
"How long?" you hear him ask.
You look up at Edward, "Since 7th grade".
He gently grabs your hand, and starts to pull you up. You move away, "I can walk on my own im fine", as soon as you say that your legs just HAD to give out under you. Luckily, Edward has great reflexes so he managed to catch you by your waist just in time. You groan slightly, his hand accidentally and unknowingly grazed a fresh cut on your stomach.
He carries you bridal style into the bathroom, sitting you down on thd counter.
He opens the cabinet and grabs the first aid kit, one of the many he has stashed around the apartment.
Grabbing the peroxide, he lifts your arm. "This might sting a little bit but we don't want them to get infected" he warns you. Nodding, you lift your sleeve. After pouring the peroxide onto your arm, he wipes away the dried blood with a wet piece of soft cloft. After he wraps it in bandages, and does the same thing to the rest of your cuts.
"Why did you do it y/n? There are so many other things you could have done". He asks calmly.
"I like it. The marks are pretty and the blood is calming. When I cut it makes me feel better. And it feels better than crying".
"Y/n, if you wanted to cut I could have brought in someone. You didn't need to destroy your own beautiful body. Now you will have to deal with the stinging, burning, itchy feeling from them,  and if you don't want to be asked questions you got to hide them, it will take weeks for them to fully heal and some of these WILL leave scars because of how deep you made them".
"It's kinda too late for that", you responded.
He takes your hands in his own, and when you look down he lifts your head gently by your chin. "Promise me you won't do this again", he asks softly. You look into his eyes
"You know I don't make promises I can't keep. Especially when I have no desire to do so".
He gets a frustrated look on his face. "Fine. But at least try to stop. Do it as little as possible. And if you do, take care if it. Just think about it, and if you need to see blood just call me and I'll bring someone in".
You thought about it, you have always wanted to torture someone. "Fine".
He gingerly kissed your nose, flashing a quick childish smile, then continued to put away the kit. Helping you down, he carried you to the living room, sitting you on the couch and put on a movie. You both layed there, cuddled up under a blanket, nibbling gummy bears and watching Tim Burton movies.