Gotham One-shots

Back From The Dead (Oswald x reader)

          (oh! I am very aware that Oswald is gay, but this is Wattpad and I can write what I want.)

         You've been Oswald's girlfriend ever since he worked for Fish Mooney, in fact, that's how you met.

You used to be the 'Butch gilzean' of the group, that is, until they tried to have you killed.

You see, you and Oswald had instantly clicked, and so he would tell you about how he snitched on Fish all the time and other whatnots.

One day, however, You two got caught peeking through Fish's files and we're labeled 'traitors,' being sentenced to death.

But, before the man they hired to kill you, could in fact kill you, you killed him first. Then again, that wasn't the first time you've killed, after all you were a part of Fish Mooney's crew.

~★~

Now, that leaves us here. Reading the newspaper. The newspaper titled:

"Mayor Cobblepot Still Missing"

But, you knew. You knew he wasn't just 'missing.' He knew that his 'best friend,' Edward nygma, had taken. Him. Out.

Your blood boiled. You wanted to kill Nygma. But, alas, you didn't...

That little weasel hid from you.

The 'notorious' Riddler was scared of you.
A little lady, scorned by the death of her love.

However... you had plans, of sorts.

You were going to find Nygma today, you were going to confront and question him about Oswald's 'disappearance.'

But, no, instead, here you are, in Oswald's mansion.

Sitting at the dining table, when--- the doorbell just went off.

Typically, you would send Olga to get it, but, since Oswald left, Olga had been distant.

So, generally, you got up and answered it yourself.

You opened the door and sighed out of annoyance... the Press would not leave you alone, with you being the missing mayor's girlfriend and all.

"What do you--" she cut herself off, her own words caught in her throat.

You raise your head to find a dripping- no- soaking Oswald Cobblepot, dried blood woven into his suit

You collapse, your knees growing weak.

"My love, I--"

You cut him off,

"I never thought you and I would ever meet again, " you couldn't look at him, if you were to at this point, you would break down.

His face now, somehow, paler. He silently agrees, and yet he is still determined to stay with you.

"I mourn the loss of you sometimes and pray for peace within." You continue.

"The word 'distraught' can not describe how my heart has been."

"My love, I understand. It's been hard for me, to--"

"But."

"But?"

"But where do we begin... now that you're back from the dead?"

You look into his swolen, puffy, beautiful forests for eyes, and pick yourself up and off the floor.

"What do you mea--"