AU:Harry’s just gotten back from the war and the only thing on his mind is getting back to you.
When his foot hit the ground of the drop off lot, it was like an instinct he couldn’t control.
As soon as he saw you, in your rumbled floral dress that you’d worn on your first date together, his feet took off at a racing sprint across the train station. When he was within 6 feet of you, he decided to fulfill the thought that had gotten him through everything— from the bombings to the shooting to the disease to the depression the war brought.
Instead of collapsing into your open arms, Harry dropped onto one knee, letting his duffel bag thunk down emptily on the cement floor of the station. He tugs at the chain around his neck, pulling out his grandmother’s wedding ring that his father had passed on to him before he had left with the British deploys to France.
You had stood there, bottom lip quivering and eyes welling up with emotion as Harry took your smaller hand in his. His palms were hard and coarse from holding a gun for too long, but under the initial roughness, you could feel the cozy warmth and loving softness that you knew so well.
Harry looks up at you with unworldly green irises that you hadn’t seen in what feels like centuries, the specks of gold and bronze shimmering like stars, full of love and happiness and hope. When he speaks, his voice is deeper than the last time you’d heard it— heard it sobbing as he hugged you tight and cried softly into your hair, promising to come back.
It’s thicker and his accent is heavier, but his tone is still the same towards you— gentle and affectionate.
“Y/N,” your name feels so good rolling off his tongue now that it has a recipient, which causes the corners of his lips to tilt up into a giddy, caring smile. “I’ve been waiting way too fuckin’ long to say this, baby.”
You laugh lightly through your tears, having missed his silly, spontaneous vulgarity at the most inappropriate times.
Harry giggles back, gripping your fingers tighter and thumbing over your quaking knuckles.
“Will you make me the happiest man in the whole world and be my wife?”
From The Penguin’s first appearance in Detective Comics #58
and the Riddler’s in
#140 (October, 1948), the two villains have enjoyed a long and interesting history, appearing in many different forms. Here are a few of my favorite Nygmobblepot incarnations!