Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at /works/14423595.

Rating: Mature Archive Warning: Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings Category: M/M Fandom: Gotham (TV) Relationship: Jerome Valeska/Jeremiah Valeska, Jeremiah Valeska/Jerome Valeska, Jeromiah, Twinleska Character: Jerome Valeska, jeremiah valeska Additional Tags: Incest, Sibling Incest, Twincest, Past Relationship(s), Past Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Men Crying, Feels, Mild Sexual Content, Psychopathology & Sociopathy, Heroes to Villains, Reminiscing, Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Inner Dialogue, Suicidal Thoughts Stats: Published: 2018-04-24 Words: 798 There's No Crying In VIllainy

by RigorMorton

Summary

(Takes place after 4 x 18) Newly turned (post Joker) Jeremiah, grieves Jerome's death. Sample: Jeremiah does still have one weakness. One thing that can make him feel something other than contempt. His twin brother. His lover. The man who made him what he is now. The one who set him free. Jerome.

Notes

I had to write this, because we properly won't get to see Jeremiah mourn Jerome.

See the end of the work for more notes

Jeremiah sits at his desk tapping his long, white fingers on the wooden surface with a loud, methodical rhythm.

Now that he's been set free of the prison of his own mind, he's got so much planning to do. So many thoughts on how to bring Gotham to its knees.

He once was an awkward nerd, just trying to be normal and suppress his natural born urges, in order to fit in with the norm. But now, after one bad day, Jeremiah Valeska has seen the light. He's had an awakening of epic proportions.

He's calculating, apathetic and heartless. It's so freeing. He's no longer a cog.

However, Jeremiah does still have one weakness. One thing that can make him feel something other than contempt. His twin brother. His lover. The man who made him what he is now. The one who set him free. Jerome.

Jeremiah swallows thickly, thinking about that moment hours before his transition. Seeing his brother's lifeless body lying on top of that car. Not even being able to react properly.

He couldn't throw himself on top of Jerome, sobbing and screaming "Why?" to the heavens. And he certainly couldn't give Jerome one last kiss while his lips were still warm, like he wanted to, or people would know. Know of the two brother's deviant ways. No, he couldn't have that. All he could do was sniffle and walk away.

Jeremiah didn't even get a chance to grieve properly at home, afterward. He opened his brother's package too quickly and became a monster.

So now he takes the time to mourn him. Now, before he sets his plans in motion. Before he lives up to his brother's name. Before he burns it all down.

Jeremiah starts to choke up a bit, thinking about the fact he'll never see Jerome again. The thought makes him wanna die. It's unbearable.

Jerome was the only person he ever really loved. Jerome forgave him for his terrible lies - the lies that ruined his life. He gave Jeremiah his first taste of physical affection. Gave him his first kiss. Took his virginity. Made him a man. And now he's given him freedom. And now, he's gone. Gone forever.

Jeremiah would hurl himself out his window right now, except then he would be such a disappointment to his brother.

Jerome wanted him to carry on his legacy. Be something great. Finish what he started. He can't let him down.

He tries to focus on the positive things. Like how surprisingly gentle Jerome's kisses were. He was a surgeon. Gracefully skilled. Moving his tongue like a scalpel. Careful not to hit the wrong spot.

Or how languid his movements when he snapped and swirled his hips into Jeremiah's backside. How his cock always hit that special spot inside him that made him melt into the mattress.

But of all those things, Jeremiah's favorite thing was when Jerome hugged him. There was something far more intimate about this, than touching lips, or even intercourse.

Now Jeremiah is a monster. And no one will ever hug him again. Or want to. No. People will have nothing but disdain for him. As they should.

Even the biggest bleeding hearts - the people who believe in second chances for everyone. Who argue that even the hardest of criminals deserve to live, will advocate for Jeremiah's demise. The thought makes him smirk slightly.

Of course his delight is cut short when the reality of Jerome being gone forever creeps back in.

He feels his throat start to swell and his eyes welling up.

Jeremiah's the future destructor of Gotham. He can't cry. There's no crying in villainy. So he fights it. He chokes back the tears - his throat shaking, and clenches his fist tightly, but it's in vain. It's just slightly stalling the inevitable. It almost makes it worse.

His face grows tired of twitching and his heart hurts.

The floodgates open. Starting as teary gasps. Almost like hiccups. And ends with Jeremiah breathlessly sobbing, burying his face into his forearm.

He stays like this for at least half an hour, until his head is throbbing and his eyes burn.

He gulps, picking his head up - his eyes puffy and red, and somehow wills himself to stop.

Sniffling loudly, he wipes his nose on his purple, silk sleeve and pinches his nostrils tightly.

Jeremiah gets up from his desk and stands in front of the mirror hanging over a lamp table. He admires his new face. His icy eyes - an unnaturally light blue. His powder white complexion and crimson red lips.

A smirk forms in the side of his new mouth.

He knows it's time. Time to put his emotions behind him, and become the man Jerome wanted him to be. Time to burn it all down.

End Notes

I love pain.

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