#ch: oswald cobblepot

[dcmultiverse]

ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴇɴɢᴜɪɴ 1x05 ꜱᴏꜰɪᴀ ꜰᴀʟᴄᴏɴᴇ

[gracelessace]

Gotham Universe

🩸‘Vampire’ Reader/Oswald Cobblepot🥀

You were back in Gotham.

 

Five years later and yet everything was just how you left it. 

 

In a way. 

 

New businesses were popping up, while housing got worse, along with anything left untouched by the city officials.

 

Though most things in the clutches of Gotham’s government would rot away in due time as well. Nothing truly good lasted long in this city. 

 

Even so, breathing in the stench of something rotten you decided that you were glad to be back.

 

Your main problem was that most everyone in Gotham had a better memory than you, at least when it came to who was in charge of the criminal underground. 

 

Last you heard from Victor it was still the big Don Falcone, but there was Maroni now. Not to mention Fish Mooney had come up in rank.

 

Maybe there were a few others , but nothing that stuck in your  head like the name Fish. 

 

In the end you couldn’t keep up with regime changes. It seemed like even the Narrows were constantly changing leadership too, and who gave a damn about the poor Narrows. 

 

You would know.  

 

Victor seemed glad that you were back, but ever since he asked you to help him run jobs for Falcone he had been cautious around you. It was clear he didn’t want you involved in any details, just murder.

 

That was fine with you. 

 

You were made for such things after all.

 

Though not in the way that went off with a bang and someone’s guts splattered on a wall. Your style of killing was more invasive and less explainable. 

 

Because of this you were quite the boon for Falcone, not that he knew it. All he knew from Victor is that you always got a clean ‘shot’ and never made any noise. 

 

The man in charge didn’t ask any questions, content with his new silencer. 

 

You assumed that was why Victor liked working with Falcone. He never had to explain himself, and Falcone could read people well enough to know how to encourage someone like Zsasz to keep him loyal. 

 

You found it sweet though you never wanted to know more about the relationship between them. Surface level praise was enough. 

 

Falcone had come around to you as well, even coming up with his own little name for you since you were born without one. At that point you could understand the appeal of working for this family. 

 

You and Victor had always been like siblings growing up. Not having a family or community, he brought you into his with open arms. Since you were kids he was always looking out for you. 

 

Now you were both older, but the sibling ties still remained. For that you were grateful. If it wasn’t for Victor and his grandmother you’d probably be dead by this point. 

 

So when Victor had reluctantly asked you to come back to Gotham you returned without hesitation. You had been with his grandmother in Steel City for quite some time and it was starting to weigh on you. 

 

There was a freedom you felt in Gotham. Victor accepted you for your murderous faults, but so did the darkness of this city. Anywhere else you felt out of place, like a monster caged. 

 

And maybe that was why Victor was so cautious to let you out. 

 

Your goal was to convince him he didn’t have to be, that you could take care of yourself. It was easier said than done, especially since he knew your track record. 

 

However a perfect opportunity had shown up for you to prove your worth to Falcone with a job unrelated to killing people. 

 

Recently Victor had been coming up as a player in the Gotham underbelly. He was starting to become a household name for murder among murders. 

 

Flashy in all the wrong places.

 

These days when Victor was sent on call jobs people saw it as a threat. Even bosses in the same family were on edge when the man came through to check on the taxes.

 

Falcone wanted you to take his place for some in house work. He liked that you never showed your cards, or wanted to make a name for yourself in crime.

 

You just wanted to get by. 

 

He took advantage of this and so did you. When he asked if you would collect and check in on his people, you jumped at the chance.




It seemed low key enough to not require a ton of effort, but was slightly dangerous enough to be exciting.

 

So now you were on your way to barter and keep an eye on the peace with the infamous Fish Mooney, while Victor stayed home. He’d want the whole story no matter how boring when you got back. 

 

Victor was the one who paid attention to details, not you. Falcone should really have installed some kind of secret camera… 

 

It was a dreary twilight, but the end of summer air still hung. The humidity made your hair curl up, the bangs that usually hid your eyes were getting shorter. 

 

How annoying. 

 

You had on a light coat, concealing a couple of Victor’s guns, which was the only benefit in the damp mugginess surrounding you. While you wanted to rip it off, you tied the sash tighter as you reached the door to Fish’s club. Something about the compression soothed your anxiety. 

 

The inside of the club lit up red against the stone outside as the sky darkened. The silhouette of fish bones decorated the side of the building above you. 

 

Without thinking you reached up to trace the outline, stalling your meeting. When you realized you probably looked foolish your hand froze. Looking over you saw you caught the attention of someone inside.

 

The condensation made it hard to make out the person, but it made you feel all the more anxious that you were being watched. 

 

You dropped your arm, careful not to flex the wrist. With a final intake of breath, you muscled up the strength to push yourself through the front door. 

 

It was cooler inside to your relief. 




The person who had been staring back at you was now turned away at their small table, hunched over whatever notes he continued to write. You noticed his black hair was spiked up in an unusual way, but that was all you could gage. 

 

Well that… and his very angular upturned shoulders, that seemed to radiate an attractive aggression off them—

[friskalicousbiscuits]

Neglected The Mask!reader x platonic Yan!Batfam

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4

I’d also like to say this Reader is Gender Neutral or at least you can pick your gender. Most of the pronouns are “you” and when they are referred to by other people, its “they” so… Yeah! Have fun reading and tell me if there are any spelling mistakes or things that don’t make sense.

Chapter Three

Oswald Cobblepot - The Penguin POV

Oswald sat with his men surrounding him as he watched the latest show performing at the Iceberg Lounge.

It was the new rogue.

They were singing some theatrical, eccentric song that had them throwing roses at the both the ladies and gentlemen watching. It even grabbed one of the pole dancers and pulled her into the performance too. They’d spun the girl around until she was wearing something straight out of the sixties. A knee-length dress in the same yellow as the stars on the rogue’s suit. Speaking of the newbie, they were wearing a navy blue three-piece with those baby yellow stars. Now, Oswald could respect a person who wore perfectly tailored suits. He may despise the Joker and tolerate the Riddler, but hey, what’s the harm in looking good while doing crime…

…or singing in Oswald’s club.

Oswald watched them dance with the girl across the stage.

Somehow the girl knew the choreography as well?

She seemed as confused as Oswald when she and the green-faced freak started dancing in sync. Perfectly.

Now, as for why the newbie was even performing in his club. Oswald would like to take a trip down memory lane for that…

//Flashback…//

It had been about thirty minutes before the opening of his club. Bartenders were clocking in and getting their stations ready, girls were getting dolled up and doing stretches, and the muscles of his fine establishment were taking their places around and inside the building. It was normal. What wasn’t normal was that Oswald was even here in the first place.

See, Black Mask, the human equivalent of shit stuck to the bottom of shoe, wanted to talk partnerships. As for why? Oswald didn’t particularly care. They’d both tried to kill each other in the past, it’d be difficult to mend that relationship even with all the money in the world. But, the mighty, gracious Penguin, in all his guts and glory decided to humor him.

Besides, if negotiations went to shit, he could always have the man shot in the back of the head.

They were going to talk. In Oswald’s lounge. In Oswald’s turf. That was the plan. It’d even remained the plan after the new rogue strolled in like they owned the place, immediately bee-lining it to Oswald. One of his men immediately got in the rogue’s way but ended up with an anvil dropped on his head. They kept walking until they stood in front of him.

“Pots! Just the man I wanted to see!”

“What do you want?” Oswald growled, thumbing his umbrella.

“I want to sing.” They said, placing their hands on their hips.

A small silent filled the building.

“What?” Oswald asked, confused more than anything. He blinked and suddenly the newbie was right next to him, a hand on his shoulder while the other waves towards the stage.

“Think about it! I get to entertain, you get entertainment, and if things happen to go south and I… I don’t know, accidentally blow someone up—”

Oswald cut them off. “Again, what?”

They kept lm talking as if they hadn’t been interrupted. “—I have some spare cash lying around for reimbursement! I’ve been meaning to get rid of it anyways.”

That made him perk up slightly. Cash for reimbursement. Oswald supposed he could just saw the scuffs on the floor count. “Is it dirty money?”

“The dirtiest. I… acquired it just this past week.”

“The bank robbery.”

“Correctamundo, my short friend.”

“Short?” Saying that to Oswald’s face was bold. His hands itched for his umbrella. He’d love to fill this tall freak with holes. Because admittedly, they were tall. Those news reports did this thing no justice.

“You are to me! Though I suppose I could just—” The green feller’s hands went under Oswald’s arms. Immediately every one of Oswald’s men had their guns trained on them. They paid the guns no mind. Instead of picking the him up like Oswald expected, everyone watched as his torso elongated with the higher they pulled until his hands eventually left him. “There, now we’re eye to eye.” The newbie said, though they sounded like they were about to laugh.

It reminded him of that bastard clown.

“What the hell did you do to me!?” Oswald yelled. He looked ridiculous, proportions all wrong. His arms and legs remained the same, and certainly too short for this new body.

“You don’t like it?” They asked with that damned grin.

“No! Of bloody course not!” That seemed to seal Oswald’s fate as he felt his body go tense like a rubber band then snap back. His own face hit his knees as he up and bopped the hell out of his nose. His body then moved up and down rapidly for a moment, each movement being accompanied by the sound of an accordion?

He was going to kill whichever arsehole had the cobblers to pull that with him—

The green-faced freak started to full on belly-laugh in his face. He didn’t even need to tell his men to fire before they did, not that it’d do much. Reports say that they were bulletproof but…

No crushed bullets were falling to the floor.

When Oswald finally stopped being a human accordion, the newbie had stopped laughing and the guns had stopped firing. Though, they were still standing. If the bullets weren’t on the ground, where were they?

“Ah… man, I haven’t had a laugh like that in a while!” They exclaimed. “I think I need a drink.” They pulled a drink out of nowhere and obnoxiously sipped from the straw. Everyone watched as liquid, probably soda, spurted out of multiple small holes. “Well, this was fun, Pots, but I got places to be, people to see, and a Jarritos fruit punch waiting for me at the nearest gas station. See ya later!” With that, they literally spun out of the club.

//…Flashback End//

So here they were now. Black Mask was to show up any minute and the newbie was still singing like there was no tomorrow.

That is, until the lights suddenly shut off. The entire lounge went black until a light illuminated from the stage. Specifically from the new rogue’s stars on their suit. Their hand was on a cord leading from their fedora. Oswald hadn’t noticed it before. Was it supposed to be a lamp cord?

The emergency power turned back on eventually. Oswald watched them tug the cord again, the stars stopped glowing. There he was.

The bitch of the hour.

Black Mask.

He rolled over to Oswald, men behind him. Always with the damn dramatic entrances. And he wonders why no one likes him.

Bruce Wayne - Batman - Two Hours Before Penguin and c c Mask’s Deal POV

An hour before sundown, Bruce gathered everyone into the Batcave. They needed to go over the newest rogue as a group. He wouldn’t have any of his children getting hurt by this… monster? It certainly wasn’t human, that’s for sure.

The imp theory is still possible.

First, he played the video from his lenses of the unidentified individual’s interaction with the Riddler.

“They look so snazzy! Why do all the colourful people have to be evil?” Stephanie said from next to Jason. The man grunted, looked a mix between disturbed and angered. Bruce didn’t blame him. This rogue bore a good chunk of similarities to the Joker. The smile, some of the personality, the green. Though, at least it isn’t a cheerful psychopath in the same way that Joker is. It doesn’t do anything harmful besides property damage, wedgies, and theft. And it steals a lot.

Bruce can count a piece of a billboard with his own face on it, a fruit punch Jarritos, bank money, and even a kid’s lollipop. There’s more, but the list would be longer than Gotham’s Clocktower.

“It has quite the appetite.” Tim murmured. “Invulnerability?” He questioned Bruce.

Bruce nodded. “It seems so. That amongst the abilities to turn itself into a human tornado as well as pull objects from seemingly nowhere.”

“Human cartoon.” Cass’ raspy voice whispered.

A human cartoon indeed.

It eventually got to the part where both Bruce and Damian cornered them in an alleyway. They’d walked into one after growing bored forcing people to tap dance to their will.

Right from the start, the fight had been embarrassing for the dynamic duo.

To begin with, Robin slashed at them with one of his katanas. It didn’t so much as graze them, yet the back of their hand still dramatically touched their forehead and they stumbled around almost a drunkenly as if actually wounded. “Oh! I’ve been hit!” They eventually stumbled to fall into Damian’s arms, ignoring the grunt from the younger boy. “What am I to tell my wife? My children! That their parent can’t come home from this cruel, horrible world?” Damian of course paid it no and cuffed the fellow.

“He even cuffs me on my grave!”

“Stop being dramatic.” Damian bit out, probably rolling his eyes under his domino mask.

“Oh, Robin, are you always such a little fun-sucker?” When everyone blinked, the cuffs suddenly clattered against the grimy floor of the alleyway and Robin was having his own cape tied around him while being shoved to the ground.

“Little twerp.” They gritted out. Voice doing that same similar thing to Joker where it goes from cheerful to rough and deeper, full of annoyance.

Bruce watched Jason bristle at that out of the corner of his eye.

The Bruce on screen in the jab at the back of their head before Robin even hit the ground, yet as soon as everyone blinked again, Bruce was having his own cape tied around him and pushed to the ground. And it was a push. He was right that night. It was considerably lighter than the one aimed towards Robin.

They stood over Bruce as the man struggled, grin seeming lifeless. He doubted it could make any expression other than that grin. “What? You thought I didn’t know you were watching me when I was talking with Eddie-boy?”

They flicked their wrist in a similar manner to when they had still been talking to the Riddler. Sure enough, a cane slid out. “The big. Bad. Bat.” it punctuated each sentence with a jab from the cane into Bruce’s side. “Swaddled like a baby!” It barked out a laugh. Another blink and suddenly Bruce was actually being swaddled like a baby and rocked in the rogue’s arms. “I’ll admit you make for a cute, albeit grumpy one.”

Bruce felt Duke’s gaze slowly slide to him. “…why’d you start sucking the pacifier?”

“It made me.”

“Did it?”

“It did.” Bruce emphasized this time.

Soon after that, the video ended, and everybody started to get suited up for patrol. Bruce was about to put on his cowl when he suddenly got a call. He grabbed his phone and looked at the contact.

It was from Constantine.

Constantine never calls. Not really. Not unless it’s something important. Extremely important. It got to the fifth ring before Bruce finally picked up.

“Bruce! Bruce, are you at the cave?” The man sounded panicked.

“Yes? Constantine, what happ—” Bruce was cut off by the sound of the man teleporting into the cave.

“Bruce! Someone in your filthy, bloody city has the Mask of Loki!” The man yelled, stomping over to him.

The Mask of Loki?

Of-fucking-course it’s magic.

Richard “Dick” Grayson - Nightwing POV

Dick was back in Gotham to see the fam as usual. He’d just gotten off patrol and was now scraping any glue off his face from his mask using a q-tip. He was near a work desk and placed on it. Every now and then, he’d use his pinky to scroll the article he was reading about the new rogue.

This guy was actually insane. Power-wise. And a little mental-wise too. What do you mean they have the powers of a cartoon?

Isn’t that a little broken?

Then again… imps.

He got a message suddenly. Ah, it was from Wally. Dick momentarily put the Q-tip down so he could reply, the other man was asking if he wanted to hang out sometime.

Who was Dick to say no?

Speaking of hanging out… a little bit of guilt welled up in his stomach slightly. He swiped out of his chat with Wally and clicked your icon. He was expecting another offer to hang out from you that he’d have to turn down due to hanging out with some of the other family but… nothing.

Or, at least nothing since the last week he visited. Huh. He’d been in Gotham for three days already. Not a single message on any of those days. (The first day, you were too tired to message him after using the mask. Second, too busy worrying about people finding out about you being the new rogue. And third, too tired and too excited for later that night to use the mask. He was at the very back of your mind.)

Don’t get Dick wrong, it’s not like he doesn’t want to hang out with you. It’s just that you never want to do it with the family and he doesn’t want to do it with you alone. (You don’t wanna hang out with family because there’s a 50% chance Jason can be invited and you don’t want to take that chance.) He just always feels so… awkward around you. He loves you as a little sibling, yes, but he’ll admit he doesn’t know much about you. Though, you never tried to know much about him either. (You did. It’s just that he moved out when you were about nine and even then, there wasn’t much a 17-year-old could do with a nine-year-old. Not only that, but the despite whatever everyone thinks you… don’t know their vigilantes. Guess they overestimated your detective abilities.)

Trying to rationalize it didn’t seem to help him though. His thumb hesitantly pressed the typing bar. Truthfully, despite what he’d told himself earlier, he wouldn’t be that busy with the family. He could afford to spend some time with you. Especially after all the times he’s shirked that onto others. (Despite what Dick thinks, no, you did not go to other people to ask if you could hang out with them. You didn’t have Steph’s phone number, you never got it after she’d gotten a new phone. Tim blocked you (In Tim’s point of view, it was supposed to be temporary and then he forgot to unblock you.) and you don’t have the courage to ask him to unblock you. You and Bruce have never shared a single text message in your life and Duke? You don’t have his number either because… well, you’ve had like two conversations with him)

He typed and deleted repeatedly, trying to find the right words. When he felt he did, he then tried to rack his brain about what you two might do together.

He was only coming up with blanks.

Eventually, he settled on something simple.

Dick: “Do you wanna watch a movie with me tonight?” Read 2:37am

Alright, now to wait for the mor— did that say read at 2:37AM?

Huh.

Well, maybe you’re a night owl like your family. He watched your typing bubble appear. Then disappear. Then it appeared again before disappearing for about a minute.

Finally, after a couple more seconds, your message came through.

[Name]: “Sorry. Can’t” Read at 2:39am

Dick stared at the screen for a bit.

Dick: “You busy or…?” Unread.

You’d just came back from being Gotham‘s newest rogue when your phone vibrated on the nightstand. You picked it up as you threw the mask on your bed. You rubbed your eyes as you typed the passcode. The reason you’d retired so early from being a rogue was that you had a math test in the morning you wanted to be at least somewhat functional for. You absentmindedly noted that Ace hopped on your bed.

It was a text.

From who? Sammy? Kyle? Maria? Those last two were some of your other friends.

You opened the messages app.

Oh.

It’s from Dick.

Dick: “Do you wanna watch a movie with me tonight?” Read 2:37am

You went still for a long moment before quickly typing. How should you respond to this? Dick’s never invited you to do something before!

It’s literally always been the other way around!

You typed an “I’d love to!” before quickly deleting it.

That’s a little too eager.

You played around with few responses, unbeknownst to Ace curiously looking at the mask you’d also oh carelessly left on your bed.

The “bad doggie! Go away” that was hissed went unheard as you kept trying to think of a response that sounded as neutral as possible. Sure, you’d have to forgo being a rogue that night but…

…but what? Wait, you’d have to forgo being a rogue that night.

“Exactly, [Nickname]! We can’t be together if you’re off watching a stupid movie with that guy! Also— TURN AROUND AND DON’T LET THIS MANGY MUTT PUT ME O—.” That last part was practically screeched into your ear as you whipped around. Conveniently just as the dog pushed his cute little face against the inside of the mask and started spinning wildly, twisting sheets before hopping off the bed and knocking into furniture.

Gosh, is that what it looked like when you transformed? No wonder your room was always a mess when you got back!

You typed a quick response to Dick before you could even think and through your phone to the side so you could lunge at the dog and try to rip the mask off him.

Who knows what a dog with your powers could do?!

You found that out by getting slammed into the wall like three times, body-slammed onto your bed and dragged around the room by the dog while you tried to dig your fingers into the mask and rip it off.

Richard “Dick” Grayson - Nightwing POV

“Bad dog, Ace! You shouldn’t have put the mask on!” You were scolding Ace on the other side of your door.

(“Yeah! Stupid dog!” The Mask hissed.)

After a small moment of silence on Dick’s end, Ace suddenly started growling.

“Don’t say that to him! While he might be a dog, he’s my do— Wait, Ace you can understand it?”

The dog barked.

“But how?”

The dog barked a few more times.

(“Two short barks and one long bark. I think that’s dog for ‘I don’t know’, [Nickname].”)

Ace barked again.

(“I was right! He agrees with me!”)

…Was [Name] schizophrenic…? Or at least talking to Ace like he was a human? Dick had been standing outside your door for about two minutes, hand frozen in front of the door about to knock. At first, he’d heard a lot of commotion and banging until it sudden suddenly went quiet. Then you started scolding Ace, and now you were talking to yourself?

He really needed to get you out of the house. Maybe instead of a home movie, they both could go to an actual movie theater?

Dick finally knocked. “[Name], I’m coming in!” He called out before opening the door. As soon as he stepped in, he watched you hide something behind your back as you stared at him like a deer caught in headlights.

“Dick.” You blinked wide eyes at him, sharing a surprisingly cryptic look with Ace.

“Uh… [Name]. What’s that behind your back?” Dick asked, pointing at you.

“Nothing!” You exclaimed, suddenly walking closer to him.

Wow. He’d never noticed how tall you’d gotten.

Your hand gripped his shoulder with an honestly surprising amount of strength as you shoved him out of your room and closed the door quickly. “SorryI’msuperbusybye!”

You left him standing in the hall on his lonesome.

It took a couple minutes, but he eventually walked away.

He’d never realized how much you’d grown up.

Also wow! Your hand on your shoulder actually hurt a bit. Damn. He massaged his shoulder lightly as he kept walking.

??? - The Shadow Thief

He touched down on one of the city’s buildings, overlooking the glittering lights below.

“So this is where my newest friend is?” He let himself fall forward until he was soon gliding over Gotham. “I gotta say! I do love their choice in city!”

Extra Bits of Info:

1.) You did in fact make him start sucking the pacifier. 2.) The Black Mask and Penguin negotiation ended in a shootout. 3.) Despite the fact that you don’t know the bats are vigilantes, the mask does. 4.) In case it wasn’t obvious, Dick could not hear anything the mask was saying and now thinks you’re schizophrenic.

Taglist: @yourtypicalhuman09 @cupid73 @yhin-gg @galaxypurplerose @xxgrimripp3rxx @hai-there-how-are-you @suckmyballzfr @yarn-mony @patatasolitaria @deathbynarcisstick @depressed--therapist @eyeless-kun @mary-jinx @natllo @d4rkf10w3er @mintynilla

[mx-paisley]

Huevember day 19-23 ⭐️🐘 (My last huevember post for this year!!)

For this I drew the elephant man from CH&T

Here are the links to all of my huevember drawings:

Day 1-4 - Moist von Lipwig from Discworld

Day 5-7 Will Wood in case i make it album

Day 8-9 Kayne from Malevolent

Day 10-11 Tara, my scientist oc

Day 12-16 Oswald cobblepot from Gotham

17-18 Michael Distortion from The Magnus Archives

[sl-newsie]

Behind Masks (Dr. Jonathon Crane x OC) Ch. 13: Damsel Not Distressed

Some independent hero I must be. Abducted by two idiots and tied to a chair. What an icon.

How long have I been out? The sack’s still over my head.

“Where the Hell am I?” I try to give authority but my croaking voice wouldn’t startle a kitten.

“She’s awake!” One of the voices from earlier whispers nearby and heavy footsteps approach.

The sack is ripped off and sunlight blinds my eyes. On top of that my hair piles over my face and gives me no clue to where I might be. All I can see through the strands of hair is the chair I’m bound to.

“Whoever you are, I have nothing to give. Go ahead and kill me.”

“I’m afraid that’s out of the question,” a familiar voice calls from overhead.

A hand folds back my hair and a better view of my captive environment is allowed. It’s an abandoned skateboarding rink. A concrete arena. The goons who abducted me are still standing behind me. Up above is the one giving the orders. Edward Nigma.

“I’m truly sorry it’s come to this, Callie.”

Through the blazing sun I make out his new appearance. Instead of the prison suit I last saw him in, Nigma has donned black trousers, a green blazer, and green bowler hat with a giant question mark painted on it.

“Nigma, this is ridiculous. Why keep me hostage?”

“Because I need Crane to cooperate.”

“With what?”

“I need him to stop terrorizing the workers at the bank. That’s where my next scheme is. As much as he hates to admit it, he does care about you. When he sees you like this he’ll budge.”

If it weren’t so saddening I might actually laugh. From how Crane acted when he ushered me out of his lab I don’t think he holds any amount of affection for me.

“Sorry to disappoint you but he doesn’t care, Nigma. He’ll probably encourage my death. The only reason he keeps in touch is because he’s obsessed with my psychosis.”

Bang!

A gunshot rings out and I look around for the source. It’s- An umbrella? There’s a strange-looking portly man in a black suit holding an umbrella with smoke coming out. Is that umbrella a gun?

“This foolish game is taking too long, Nigma. I want assurance that my own business will remain untouched as well.”

Just how many people are using me as bait?

I look up, annoyed at the riddling villain. “Nigma, who the Hell is this guy?” 

“Oh! Where are my manners? I am Oswald Cobblepot, at your service. Or should I say, your untimely death.” The man does a dramatic bow and tips his hat. The Penguin.

“Et tu, Cobblepot? Do I need to spell it out? I’m not a suitable bargaining chip!”

A shuffled noise alerts me to the edge of the rink and a flash of green catches my eye.

“Really, boys? You can do better than this. Leave Callie alone.”

I smile gratefully at the familiar botanist. “Thanks, Ivy.”

Ouch. The sun’s beginning to burn. I can feel my reddening skin rubbing against the ropes I’m tied up in. At this point being shot might be a decent way out of this. No more Gotham, no more sunburn.

“Did anyone tell him?” Ivy drones in a bored tone as she leans against the stone wall.

Nigma chuckles. “I sent a riddle-” 

“Never mind,” Ivy cuts him off. “Do not need any elaboration.”

Penguin shuffles around impatiently. “I’m starting to agree with Ms. Prentiss. I don’t take Crane for the affectionate type-”

“What are you doing?” Another familiar voice asks from the shadows.

“Or perhaps I spoke too soon,” Penguin says. “It appears he figured out your riddle.”

I can’t see! Where is he-? Oh. He did come after all. Although I don’t doubt his motive is to watch the show of me being cooked. Dr. Crane strides into the arena. He’s wearing the same clothes except for one accessory: the Scarecrow mask. Is this a rumble or what?

Nigma cackles with glee and hops down from his pedestal. “Delightful! Now that you’re here, let us establish our terms. You stop gassing the bank tellers, and we don’t hurt Callie.”

“Callie?” Crane whips his head to where Ivy’s pointing at me and his face darkens. “What’s she doing here?”

“Just a little insurance that you’ll cooperate,” Penguin explains smugly.

Dr. Crane’s eyes don’t look away from me. “You’re hurting her.”

“We haven't cut a hair off of her-”

“It’s the sun. She’s burning.”

He noticed. How attentive. Whether or not he cares if I’m being burned is shielded by his plain tone. Who does start to show concern is Ivy.

“He’s right. Get on with it, Nigma. Don’t worry, Callie. I’ve got the best aloe for you.”

Nigma tilts his head, still watching Crane’s alertness towards me. Cobblepot, however, is growing impatient.

“I’ll do it myself,” he mutters. He waddles closer and points his umbrella straight at my head. “You’d better be right, Nigma. Close the deal, now. Or else I will take my associations elsewhere.”

Crane’s body stiffens. Behind his mask I see his vibrant eyes flash. He can’t be serious-

“How about a compromise?” The fear doctor suggests.

Penguin lowers his umbrella by a fraction. “I’m listening.”

“You can do your little bank scheme, but also steal an adrenaline compound for me. You get your petty cash and I get a new ingredient for my experiments.”

He’s actually going along with this? Nigma struts up wearing a devious smirk and holds out a hand. The two men shake and he leans in to whisper something to Crane. Can we please get this done? My back feels like it’s about to char. 

“Pleasure doing business, Ms. Prentiss. Perhaps next time it will be on more friendlier terms.”

Penguin tips his hat to me and disappears into the shadows. While Nigma and Crane continue their whispering Ivy comes over and sets down a white bottle.

“Aloe. Apply twice daily. This should clear that burn up right away. It was good to see you, Callie. Stay safe, stay in touch.”

She too walks off and I’m left to wait for the squabbling geeks to stop arguing about… whatever. I don’t care.

“Remember: I’m not a flower, but I bloom in the heart,

In many stories, I play a part.

I can make you cry, or make you smile,

Through hate or sadness I reconcile,” Nigma chants tauntingly.

What the Hell kind of Riddle is that?

“Now let her go!” Crane orders.

Nigma shrugs. “Very well. There’s no need to hold onto her anymore.” He pulls out a knife and slices the ropes behind my back. “Sorry again, Callie. See you later.”

“Try to use me as bait again, and you will regret it,” I hiss as the ropes rub against my skin.

The chair pulls away and I fall onto my hands and knees. The pavement is hot enough to cook an egg. I don’t even want to know how red my back is.

“You owe me.” A hand grabs my arm and I’m tugged up to stand.

“Ow! In case you forgot, I am here because of you." I sneer at Crane. "Somehow I’m a valuable bargaining chip. Care to explain why?”

Dr. Crane doesn’t answer. He finishes untying the ropes around my legs. When he’s finished I bent over to pick up Ivy’s aloe. Every inch I move causes my skin to yell at me.

“Is it safe?” Crane asks in a lazy voice.

“I trust Ivy. Plus my skin can’t get any worse now anyway.” I practically limp into the shade and lean against the cold concrete. “I was just held hostage in broad daylight. What do you expect?”

“I expect it hurts.”

No shit, genius!

“Yes. Yes it does. Now please get your gloating over with so I can be miserable in peace.”

A small dose is all it takes. I pour a small drop of the green goo onto my hand and smear it across my arm. Thank you, Ivy! It feels like liquid relief-!

“Here.” Crane takes the bottle and suddenly more aloe is being rubbed gently on my back. “This should help.”

Oh- God, he’s good at this. Of course he is. He studied anatomy the same as I. But why does he have to be so frustrating?

��You’re helping? Are you high?”

“Hardly. These actions are based on pity, Dr. Prentiss. You look like a cracker dipped in ketchup.”

Surprising. He still has a sense of humor. Probably because it’s directed at me. 

I fight the urge to moan and pull away before I let my trust slip. I pivot and walk through the alley towards the main street. Where do I go? What direction is-?

“Your apartment is that way, Dr. Prentiss.” Crane points north.

I pull my face into a tight smile. “Thank you,” I reply stiffly.

Continuing onward. And he’s still following me.

“Did you know that- Oh come on, take it off!” I yank Crane’s mask away and shove it into his hands. “We’ll get caught! Anyways, did you know that New York built the first electric chair in 1888 because they were seeking a more humane method of execution than hanging?” 

He takes a minute to adjust to the bright sunlight. “That seems rather dark and random for you.”

“I find it interesting. We still kill, but look for more humane methods. In my line of work I’ve seen many criminals design their methods of death. Including you.”

We get to the intersection across from my apartment. Good. A hot shower- Scratch that. A freezing cold shower for my skin and some fresh clothes. My poor black dress from last night is wrinkled and dusty. With a little luck it can be saved. Some hero. Dressed the part for damsel in distress like a pro. 

“Would you like me to escort you?”

Escort? God, he’s right. I am poisoning him with thoughts of chivalry. This does not sound like the Dr. Crane from five months ago. First he lets me live from a Nigma’s crazy scheme and now he’s offering to escort me.

My tone turns gentle. “No, thank you. I’ll be fine.”

Crane nods. “Take care of those burns. Good day, Dr. Prentiss.”

He walks straight past me towards the docks. Back to his lab. So that’s it, then? Him popping in and out of my life when it concerns him. I shouldn’t care… But then why does my heart drop the further he gets down the sidewalk? Maybe Nigma’s right. Maybe he does care. Why else would he have acted to preserve my life today? Or it’s to earn a favor from me. I ‘owe’ him. Well, favor or not I’m still going ahead with my plan.

I strike first tonight.

[the-brave-and-the-dumb]

The tension is unbelievable

(and the word simp is atrocious but memes are memes)

[felicitykings]

@gothamnetwork's august event: oswald cobblepot

You watch mom, i'm gonna be somebody in this town.

[jeromevalseka]

it's so sweet of ed & oswald to help get barbara & lee to the hospital for the birth of their daughter... mlm & wlw solidarity!

[off-traveling-in-the-stars]

"but it's just so satisfying to wield psychological power over a man in a button-up! you all understand, right?" - sydney

[magiesmith]

character posters:  oswald cobblepot (gotham) “When you know what a man loves, you know what can kill him.”

[dcmultiverse]

ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴇɴɢᴜɪɴ 1x01 - ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ʜᴏᴜʀꜱ

[meep-meep-richie]

𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝗼 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗳𝘂𝗹 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗮 𝘀𝗲𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗱

[telltalebatman]

u will have to pry this disaster of a man from my cold, dead hands. he's my blorbo. he's my babygirl. anyway i combed through the main oz playlist and picked out songs that give me the very specific "him, but younger" vibe.

(link)

[lynestvstoriesblr]

THE SAGA OF ELIJAH AND GERTRUD-PARELL LIVES Running out of steam! Need feedback!!! Chapter 7 Part A-A Whole Year

“We need to talk.”

Frederick Van Dahl looked up from his desk to see his son, Elijah, in the doorway. His arms were crossed and Elijah was frowning. Clearly, his son was in a bad mood, then again, so was he.

“Well, look who’s finally out of his room!”  Frederick announced. "I want you to know that you missed a lot last night. The party, your engagement.”

“You mean, that engagement that you tried to force on me” Elijah said, coming forward, “twice.”

Frederick waved his hand dismissively. “But did you really have to embarrass me? I mean, you saw the news van.”

“And who told you to invite them?” Elijah shot back.

Frederick let out a breath. “I thought you wanted to get married.”

Elijah scoffed. “Not to Constance, I don’t! Don’t even pretend I haven’t been crystal clear on that.”

“What is so wrong with Constance?”

“Among other things, I’m not in love with her.”

“Well, I can't leave these things up to you, can I? You’ve proven that your taste in women is sorely lacking.”

“My taste in women is just fine!” Snapped an enraged Elijah.

They were going in circles.  Frederick brought his forehead to his palm. “Enough! Is this what you wanted to talk about?”

“No.” Elijah slammed something on the desk. “First, here’s the master key. But I really came to talk to you about this.” He held up a folder.

“What is that?” Frederick asked.

“The employee folder of Gertrud Kapelput.”

Frederick shrugged. “So what? As I recall, I tried to show you that same file once before and you weren’t the least bit interested.”

“Yes, but I think it’s been updated since." Elijah opened the folder on the desk, flipped it to the very last page and pointed. "There's a check in here, addressed to Gertrud, for half     a million dollars. You can also see due to that big red stamp that the check was cancelled and never cashed.   Under that is lease for an apartment in the fanciest part of the city. This morning I called the landlord to that building and surprise, surprise, the young lady, a blonde no less, that he had been expecting 9 months ago for this exact unit never showed up.” Elijah slammed the folder closed. "You lied to me, Father!” he hissed. “You told me that Gertrud took money  from you when she left, she never took a dime from you.”  Elijah took a walk, turning his back to his father before Frederick could see the tears forming. Yet Elijah was far too angry to let him off the hook.  When he retained his compure Elijah turned back. “When I think of all those times when I pleaded with you and Mother, begged you to tell me where she was, you couldn’t because you have no idea where she is.”

“Elijah-“

“Admit it!”  he yelled.

Frederick grew annoyed. “Fine! I admit it. I don't know where she is, nor do I care. Neither should you.”

Elijah’s jaw dropped open. "Of course, I care. I miss her so much that sometimes I feel like I’m going mad! Besides, now that I’ve proven that Gertrud isn’t a gold digger, why do you object so much?”

“Ms. Kapelput simply doesn’t belong here.”

“Shouldn’t   that be my decision?"

“No.” Frederick   said shortly. “It shouldn't.”

Elijah sighed. “I don’t understand. You want  me to get married but you sent away the only woman I would marry.”

“Elijah, you need to grow up and accepted the fact that we don’t always get what we want. I, for one, always wanted a son.”

Elijah blinked. “Have you gone mad?! You have a son, me.”

“No, you are my male child, my heir, not my son and trust me, there’s a difference. My son would’ve been strong enough to go to school as child. My son wouldn’t be on bed rest all the time.          My son would know which women deserves respect.”

“All women deserve respect!”

Frederick chuckled cruelly. “Such an Elijah thing to say.”

“So, you resent me, because I have a heart condition and I’m not like you? Well, guess what, I’m proud I’m not like you! You're a mean, cruel old man with no regard for no one but himself!” Elijah turned and started to walk away.

“Where are you going?” Frederick demanded.

“Back to my room. This conversation has suddenly made me very, very ill.”

Gertrud held her earring up to the light. “Look Oswald, look at the diamond! Okay, so it’s   not a real diamond but it sparkles all the same. Like a star! Doesn't that make you want to smile?”  Gertrud was kneeling before her son, who lay on a blanket on the   floor as she studied him. His eyes seemed unnaturally focused on the light, Oswald’s small legs and arms were going everywhere, but Gertrud wasn't getting what she truly wanted. The baby wasn’t smiling.

“Come on Oswald, don’t you want to smile for Mama? Don’t   you? Don’t you?" She tickled his tummy, but his mouth still did nothing. It was a Saturday night in a mid-November. They were in the apartment next to theirs’, which belonged to Gertrud’s   best friend Sara, who was babysitting tonight because for the 1st time since Oswald’s birth Gertrud  had to   go out alone.

Then Sara appeared in the living room, having just put her twin daughters to bed. “Gertrud, you’re going to be late.”

“I know” the other woman whined “it’s just that... he won't smile."

“He’s still a little young.”

“He’s almost at 7 weeks. All the books say he should start smiling now.”

“You know all those books are just guidelines. All babies develop at their own pace.”

“I know” Gertrud   sighed, scooping up her baby and stood up “I just can't wait for him to smile at me.”

Sara held out her arms as Gertrud gently gave up the baby. “Okay Oswald, Mama has to go to work tonight. I don’t know, Sara, I miss him already."

“Then why did you agree to help your friend Sam cater tonight?” Asked Sara.

“For the same reason I’m    going back to my jobs full-time on Monday. We need the money.”

“Both jobs? Even Queenie's?"

Gertrud frowned. “Why? What’s wrong with Queenie?”

“I heard that she is having trouble with her business lately. Bricks being thrown in her store window and such.”

“Oh dear. I   guess I’ll learn all about it on Monday but for now, I got to go.” Gertrud push her baby’s hair out of his eyes and kissed his cheek. “Bye-bye Liebchen. I’ll miss you. I love you.”

It felt strange to Gertrud, being back at work and not being with Oswald. She was able to spend Sunday, her last full day of freedom with him but all too soon, it was Monday   and Gertrud had to pass Oswald off to a sitter once again. It was hard and stressful to go back to 2 full-time jobs by day and sleep beside a crying infant by night. Sara didn’t see her friend in over 2 weeks. Sara was   just dropping off a pot while she let herself in Gertrud’s apartment. She put the pot on the correct shelves and was just about to sneak out again when she heard crying- and it didn’t sound like the baby.  Sara tiptoed to the bedroom and opened the door to see Gertrud on her bed, sobbing softly.

Sara went to her friend. “Gertrud, are you alright? What’s wrong?”

Gertrud sniffed as she soothed back her hair and looked up. “Where did you come from?”

“I was just returning something and I heard you in here." Sara explained. “Are you okay? Why are you crying?”  Gertrud said nothing so Sara tried again. "Are you tired? Because after going back to both jobs full-time and with no one to help you with the baby at night, it would be perfectly understandable.”

“No, I’m fine.” Said  Gertrud,  but promptly broke down again.

Sara got up and sat on the bed  beside her friend, rubbing her back. “I don’t think so. Care to try again?”

“It’s-it's  Mrs. Roberts" Gertrud squeaked out.

“What?!” Sara  was shocked. Mrs. Roberts was a kindly senior best known for babysitting for most, if not all the  children in the building while their parents worked. Sara had even taken  her girls to her. Without leaving Gertrud, Sara looked toward the crib and craned her neck so she could see Oswald. The  baby  seemed fine, lost in sleep.

“Did she yell at  him? Shake him? Or” Sara gulped. “Do something even worse.

The seriousness of Sara’s question made Gertrud prop herself up on her elbow. “What?  Oh no,  nothing like that.”

“What then?”

“Oswald smiled at her! His first smile  and I missed it!”

Sara really did understand why her friend was upset, truly she did; but she expected Gertrud to say something so much worse that Sara felt so relieved that she began to laugh uncontrollable. In no time at all, Gertrud joined in.

Sara told Gertrud not to worry. That pretty soon Oswald would never stop smiling. Sure enough she was right, and Gertrud became his favorite person to smile at. Yet all the smiling in the world couldn’t ‘t helps the troubles   going on at Queenie’s. Unfortunately, Sara was right about the violent behavior going on at the salon. Only it was much, much worse than any Sara  or Gertrud could ever imanged.  Not only did bricks come soaring through the store window faster than Queenie could replace the glass, most of the bricks had notes attached. Gertrud was able to glance over a shoulder or  2, and read a few  notes. What she saw made  her blush. There were horrible words and slangs in there that Gertrud could never bring herself to write nor say out loud. O me day, a brick came   so close to Gertrud’s head that she could   practically hear the broken wind go pass her ear. Worst was yet to come. Queenie found that someone had spray-painted something awful on the side of her building. Then she came in one morning to find the whole place trashed. So, it  was sad but hardly surpring when not even a full month after Gertrud’s return,   Queenie announced that for everyone’s safety she decided to close the  salon. There were   tears in her eyes when she said  it. Gertrud’s heart went out to her.

Late one night, Gertrud yawned as her shift at the restaurant came to an end. Gertrud usually walked home, but tonight she was so tired, she decided to allow herself the small luxury of taking a taxi. Or at least, that was the plan. But as Gertrud grabbed her purse   and began to feel for her wallet. That’s odd, she normally left it right on top.  She began to feel for it more deeply, still nothing. She emptied the purse completely and turned it inside out, all to the same result, still no wallet.   Gertrud began to panic but then threw her head back when the memory suddenly returned. The last time   she had seen  her wallet was this afternoon when a client  of  the salon asked to see baby pictures of Oswald. It must still be there! Of course, today had to be her last shift at the salon. Gertrud checked her watch.   The cleaning crew could still  be there. Of course, there were no guantrees but Gertrud still had to try. So poor, exhausted Gertrud started the long, long walk  back downtown. Her heart sunk when she got to the salon and all the storefront was dark. Still,   Gertrud had come this far so she decided to try  the door and was overjoyed when it opened. She saw her wallet right on the front desk, as if it was just waiting for her.  as she picked it up, Gertrud heard soft sobbing. She looked up to see lights in the back. She tiptoed   to the back office where someone had her head down on the desk, sobbing like a lost child.

“Queenie?”

As soon as she heard the other woman’s voice,  Queenie  instantly stopped crying and  sat up  straight.

“Gertrud, what are you doing here so late?”

“I forgot  my wallet. What are you still doing here?”

Queenie could only burst into tears again, so Gertrud rushed in and knelt before her.

“What’s wrong? You can tell me.”

“I don’t know. Opening this place was my dream, now my whole life is a nightmare.” She started to sob for the 3rd time so Gertrud hugged her tightly.   “It’s alright. I’ m with you now.”

Queenie finally took a breath “thank you. This is the worst week of my life. Not only am I  forced to  close my salon   but my landlord threw me out a  week early. Now all I have is a non-fundable plane ticket to Vegas which is a week early and this all happen because" Queenie’s voice died.

“Because you weren’t born a woman.” Gertrud finished quietly.

Queenie’s eyes widened. “You  knew?”

“I suspected. You’re very tall.” Gertrud gave a small smile in her vain attempt at a joke.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

Gertrud studied the floor. “It didn’t seem to  be my place. Personally, I didn’t think it mattered. I mean, you’ve always been so nice to me.”

Queenie placed her hand on Gertrud’s. “I wish there were more  people like you in the world.”

Gertrud smiled once more at her friend before getting serious. “You said your landlord threw you out. Do  you  have someplace to go? Your cousin, Ruth, perhaps?”

Queenie shook her head. “Ruth’s ill at the moment and there’s no  else I can turn to. I don’t even have enough money for a motel.”

“Then you’ll just have to come home with me. I don’t have a couch for you to sleep on because I can’t afford one yet, but I do have one of the comfortable recliner in the world. It goes so far back you’ll swear you are lying down. Of course, I would  offer you my bed but  it’s 3  feet from a 11   week  old who can’t sleep more than  4  hours at a time.”

“Oh no, I couldn’t impose.”

“You’re not imposing, I offered.” Gertrud instated. “What you are doing  is making my  babysitter rich the longer we sit here, talking. So, grab your coat and  let’s go!"

Queenie did as she was told, and Gertrud helped her former boss with   the little luggage she had. On the walk home, Gertrud shared some good news. She had gotten the job as a sous chef her restaurant was offering. This meant a raise in pay and a move to the day shift so Gertrud could spend her nights at home with Oswald.

“Are you okay like this?”  Gertrud asked a half hour later when ahe had taken all the extra pillows and blankets out.

“Yes. Queenie nodded from the  recliner. “Very comfy.”

“Are you sure? I  could see if I  can  find something mattress –like so you could lay down proper.”

Queenie shook her head. “No,  Gertrud. I’m fine, really. Besides, if I really want to, I can just use the kitchen table.”

“O-okay. I guess that will work.”

“Then, it’s agreed. Go to bed,  Gertrud. You look tired.”

The blonde nodded. “All right. Good night.”

“Night."

Gertrud slumped against her bedroom door as soon as  she closed it. Tonight’s events had unnerved her but she was unsure about what to do about it.  As soon as she heard him, she picked up Oswald.

“Liebchen, promise Mama something. Be good when you grow up, never judge people.”

The baby only cooed and she hugged him close. “Oh thank you."

Despite its unhappy origins, it turned  out to be a good week for all. Queenie proved herself to be an ideal housemate. Oswald took to her  right away so she  babysat while Gertrud finished up her night shifts. The week was so wonderful that Gertrud found herself wishing the week would never end. Yet, all too soon, Gertrud found herself hugged Queenie goodbye at the Gotham airport.

“I’ll write."  Queenie promised. "Again, thank you so much for recusing me when   I was my lowest point.”

Gertrud nodded. “Of course. After all, you did the same for me.”

With  tears in  both their eyes, the 2 women hugged again.

Christmas  Eve.

As Elijah stared up at   the star on the Van Groot’s insanely tall tree that he quietly reflexed how this was easily, the worst Christmas of his entire life.  He sighed as Elijah marlved  how slow time went. Was it only last Christmas that he gave Gertrud that simple gold ring? A silent symbol of their secret union? He wondered, did she wear  it still? No, he reasoned, why should she? How would she attract a new love with his ring  still on her finger? Elijah groaned and shook his head violently. It was his father’s new favorite form of torture to remind him, every damn day, that Gertrud was now free. Free to meet another man. In his father’s words, a stronger man and most definitely, better man. With another sigh, Elijah raised the champagne flute to his lips and took a sip. Of course, Elijah’s father had not given up his old torments either. Case in       point, dragging  him here to the Van Groot’s Christmas Eve bash. Elijah took another drink only to find his glass empty, again. He had been at the party for 2 hours and so far, he had been lucky, Constance hadn’t spotted him yet, but he had to keep moving. So Elijah headed out to the garden, stopping only to pick up a new glass.  2 hours and 3 glasses later, Elijah’s luck ran out. Constance found him in main hall.

“Elijah! There you are! Come dance with me.”

“But I don’t want to dance.” Elijah was slurring his words.

Nevertheless, Constance grabbed his hand and led him to the ballroom. Jingle Bell Rock was playing so they had to dance fast, Elijah didn’t care. It went on for a minute and then Jingle Bell Rock stopped and a new song started. Elijah was so shocked he turned and looked at the DJ. The song currently playing was Le Vie En Rose! Could  this be real? Elijah turned back to Constance and did a double take. Constance had gone; the woman before him now was Gertrud. Afraid she would disappear right before his eyes, he gently tucked a long loose blonde hair beyond her ear. “They’re playing our song.”

Gertrud said nothing, just bit down on her smile. Elijah took her in his arms and they danced together perfectly, just like every time before. It seemed like old  times. As the song died, he twirled her and then brought her  close. “I don’t want  to share you. Let’s  go somewhere we can be alone.” Gertrud smiled at him and before  he knew it, they were going upstairs. As  soon as they ducked  into a second story bedroom-Elijah assumed it was his-he began kissing her passionately. They stripped one another’s clothes off and kissed again. Elijah then carried   her to the bed. They rolled around, passionately kissing. Gertrud was on top as she mounted him as he smoothed down her hair. She then took his hand and    began to touch herself with it. She started at her neck and went down her body slowly, starting at her neck, her breasts, her stomach and down, down, down. When she got to the most intimate part of her, Elijah sat up and smashed his lips to hers.   Together, they fell backwards. He rolled   her over and entered her.

She moaned with pleasure. “Oh, Elijah!

“Gertrud. Gertrud!”

She stiffened and then roughly pushed him off of her. “Who the hell is Gertrud?!”

Elijah was shocked when Gertrud’s gold locks turned back and she transformed into Constance. “Constance? Is       that you?!”

“Of course it’s me!” She roared. “Who the hell  did you expect?!”

Elijah could only stare silently as Constance gathered the covers and stalked out of the room.

 Gertrud stirred the pot once more before she set the table. Then she peeked into the playpen, where  Oswald was  gumming his new toys. She smiled. “Are you enjoying your 1st Christmas, Lichen?”  Oswald tried to sit up on his own but he only managed to kick his feet wildly.  Gertrud was distracted  by a knock at the door.

“Merry Christmas!” Sarah and her girls  cheered.

Gertrud hugged them all in turn.  “Merry Christmas!”

It was a fun Christmas afternoon, enjoyed by kids   and adults alike. They exchanged gifts, Gertrud gave Sara a fluffy new robe and  the girls new dolls. In return, Sara gave Gertrud her favorite bubble bath and an    adorable tiny Santa outfit for Oswald. After the presents were opened and dinner was eaten, Oswald went down for a nap and the girls settled in for a movie, Gertrud and Sara finally got a chance to talk when they were doing the dishes.

“Are you okay?” Gertrud asked “You seem very far away.”

“I wasn’t even going to say anything,” Sara sighed. “but back in November, I heard there was an opening for night guard. I know the odds were against me, they almost never give these jobs to women but the pay and benefits were so great. And right before Christmas break, I was told I got the job.”

Gertrud was confused. “So, what’s the problem?”

Sara sighed again. “The more I thought about it, the worst I felt. I mean, the girls are in school all day and I would work all night meaning I would never see them. Plus, the babysitter informs me that she charges double for the night   shift so there goes most of my raise.”

“Well, I  could watch the girls for you.” Gertrud offered.

Sara  shook her head. “I can’t do that.  You work all day, plus the baby.”

“It’s really no problem.”  Gertrud insisted. “We’ll all be asleep most of the time anyway.”

“Fine. You can keep the girls at night and I’ll babysit Oswald during the day.”

Now it was Gertrud’s turn to sigh.  “That would not be wise. You’ll be tired and want to sleep and Oswald is getting more alert during the day as he gets older.”

“I can’t let you let me save money for babysitting while you don‘t. It’s not fair.”

The 2 women discussed the matter for some time before they reached a comprise.  Gertrud would take the girls at night and Sara, the baby during the day, if she felt up to it. If not, she would hand Oswald to the babysitter,      no shame attached. It wasn’t long after the decision was made that Sara and  her   girls left for the night.     Gertrud stood     in front of her lighted up Christmas, admired the   new baby’s 1st Christmas ball.

“Merry Christmas, Elijah.” She whispered.

  Elijah’s Christmas wish was, of  course, to see Gertrud. All he did get that Christmas morning was a hang over. From the moment he woke up,  Elijah  truly thought his pounding head would explode. Then he heard his door open and heavy footsteps, the next thing he knew Elijah was slapped out of bed. Suddenly,       Elijah was on the floor, looking up into the furious face of Henry Van Groot, Constance’s father. Frederick wasn’t far behind.

“Henry? Jackson said you just forced yourself in. What’s going on?”

Henry looked from the son to the father. “Your son slept with my daughter at the  party last night.”

“But that’s wonderful! Didn’t we always want them together?"

Henry frowned at Frederick. “Yes,” he said slowly. “But I don’t think that was his intention, since he moaned another woman’s name!”

Frederick’s eyes grew wide with shock. “What?! My son would never do that!”

“Oh no? Then   who’s Gertrud?” Henry demanded.

Frederick’s face instantly grew red. “Elijah, tell me you didn’t!”

Elijah said nothing as he climbed back onto his bed. Frederick managed to talk Henry into going downstairs before turning back to his son. “Elijah, what the hell were you thinking?!”

“I don’t know.” Elijah moaned as he laid down pitching his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “I was lonely and drunk. I thought she was Gertrud.”

Frederick was horrified. “Thought she was Gertrud?!”

“Yes. I would have touched her if I was in my right mind.”

Frederick reached down and yanked on the sheet Elijah was on, sending his son crashing to the floor once again.

“Hey!”

 “Now, you listen to me, you little idiot” he hissed. “Fix this. Go downstairs and say you’re sorry    

“No!” Elijah snapped. “Am I ashamed and sorry about my behaviour? Very much so.  I didn’t set out to hurt anyone last night, but I am not remotely interested in Constance. If it takes this to finally convince her, well, so be it!”

His father got so mad his face turned beet red. “Then do not come down at all for the rest of the day!” Frederick slammed the door.

 “Merry Christmas to you too.” Elijah muttered as he climbed up on his bed again.

  “Come on. Come on!” Gertrud muttered for   the light to change so she could cross the street. It was mid March and Gertrud had a bad feeling. Sara was doing great at her new job and   their new babysitting arrangement was going good as well. Sara even had a partner now, named Rex. Gertrud met him only once, but once was enough to see how great a guy Rex was and how crazy he was about Sara and the kids. Gertrud once tried to broach the subject, but Sarah told her to drop it, so she did. Anyway, this weekend was Sarah’s 1st weekend off so she took the girls to go visit her mother. Gertrud, as usual, had to work. It was a normal day, or it should have been, but Gertrud just couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. This    morning it took forever to find a babysitter. Gertrud thought her son was too young for daycare, but since she had Sara, it was a moot point but this morning, of course, was different.  Her backup had the flu and her 2nd backup had class but offered up her younger sister, Erin.  Gertrud didn’t know the girl but had little choice. Gertrud’s bad feeling began almost as soon as she left the apartment. She tried to lose the feeling by throwing herself into work, but it wouldn’t go away.   She racked her brain trying to remember if she had forgotten something but there was nothing. The fact that she tried and failed to figure out what was wrong all morning drove Gertrud crazy. Finally, by noon, she couldn’t stand it any longer. She waited for the lunch rush to pass then told her boss she       must go home.  When he asked why and she said she wasn’t       sure, Gertrud was nearly laughed out of the restaurant. A kindly co-worker, who was also a mother, told Gertrud she would cover for her. Finally, after a quick thanks, Gertrud rushed home. After being stopped by a maddening slow traffic light, she at last climbed the steps to   her building. Inside, Gertrud heard babies crying and dogs barking, which wasn’t unusual. The hallways were always noisy.  However, Gertrud extremely worried when she realized that the loudest baby screaming came not only on her floor but behind her front door. She tried the knob but found it was locked. The she started knocking. “Erin, it’s me, Gertrud, are you and Oswald alright?” No answer.   “Erin? Open this door!” When there was still no response, Gertrud dug frantically in her bag for her keys and unlocked the door with a shocked grasp. There, on the second-hand sofa Gertrud had acquired just days before at a yard sale, were Erin and some boy making out while Oswald was still screaming but was nowhere in sight.

“Stop this at once!” Gertrud  ordered. It was only then that the 2 teenagers noticed her at all.

“Mrs. Kapelput, we weren’t expecting you this early.”

Gertrud simply wouldn’t have any of it. “Why is my baby screaming at the top  of his lungs?!” She demanded.

The boy wore a goofy  look. “Whoa. A  baby? I thought it was  a fire alarm.” He giggled.

Gertrud’s mouth fell  open. “Are you on drugs?”

“He is, but I’m not.” Erin said, as if it made a difference.

Gertrud would have none of it. She grabbed the knob and pulled the door open. “Get out!”

Both teens seem shamed as with heads  bowed, they stalked to  the door. Then Erin turned in the doorframe. “When do  I get paid?”

Gertrud was almost speechless,  almost. “For this? Never!” Then for the only time in her life she slammed      the door in someone’s face. Meanwhile, Oswald continued screaming.

“Oh, coming Liebchen!” Gertrud called and rushed into the bedroom and     gasped at what she saw. Oswald sat up in his crib, wearing the same jammies he was in when she left, only it was now dirty. His cheeks were ruby red and was stained with tears as he continued to scream    bloody murder. Gertrud could smell the stench from the doorframe.

“It’s okay now Oswald, Mama’s here.” Despite her  upbeat voice, Gertrud’s heart dropped as she reached  for   the baby, everything felt wet. She lifted her son and saw his diaper sagging  low. She kissed his brow and felt tears in her eyes. His hair was   wet and reeked of urine. Clearly, Oswald needed  a bath ASAP. She rushed to the changing table where she took off the onesie, got rid of the much too loaded diaper and wrapped him in a big, fluffy      towel while Oswald continued to cry and fuss. A bath almost always cheered him, but he remained cranky while Gertrud washed him and gave him a new diaper and clothed him. She rocked/bounced him  as she walked out of the bedroom.

“What’s wrong, Liebchen?” Gertrud had a feeling she knew but prayed she was wrong. Yet she was proved right as soon as she opened the fridge. Before work, she had prepared 6  bottles, and now she saw that all 6 were exactly where she left them. Gertrud could feel her blood  boil. Erin had neglected   Oswald all morning! Gertrud rushed to make sure her front door was locked before she unbuttoned her dress and let Oswald suckled greedily at her breast.

“My poor baby, you must be starving!”

As Gertrud feed her son, she called work and balancing the phone between her ear and shoulder , explained why she couldn’t come   back in today. The co-worker was covering for her answered and  said  it was a slow afternoon and it  was no problem. Gertrud felt very grateful. After she hung up, Gertrud casted a guiltily look to her bedroom. That dirty crib had to be changed. While Oswald still fed, Gertrud got up and went to the closet. She grabbed the correct linens and returned to the bedroom. Oswald cried out in protest when his mother sat him in his car seat which rested on the floor.

“Don’t worry Liebchen, I know you’re still hungry” she assured him as she buckled him  in “but Mama needs 2 hands to change your bed.”

In an effort to quiet him, Gertrud gently rocked the car seat with her foot. At the same time, she stripped the crib of all its sheets and blankets   and replaced them with fresh,  clean new ones. She put the dirty things in a laundry bag and brought it to the door. Then she picked up the baby, who was still fussy. She sat on the rocker to finish feeding and burping him. Yet, Oswald still seemed uncomfortable.

 Gertrud looked down at him. “I’ve changed you, bathe you, fed you and put you in fresh, new and warm clothes. What else could be wrong?” Then an idea struck. “Is it your teeth, Liebchen? Are they bothering you?”

 Oswald’s teeth had begun  to come in  last month. So far the pain had not been kind to him.  Knowing that had to be it, Gertrud went to the fridge and got out a cold teething ring. Oswald immediately stuck it in his mouth. Mother and son returned to the bedroom. Gertrud grabbed a baby blanket and loosely wrapped Oswald in it. Settling in back in the rocking chair, Gertrud noticed that the baby’s arms and legs were loosening.  Oswald was finally starting to relax.

 Gertrud held her son closer to her. “I’m so sorry Liebchen. I’ll never leave you with a sitter  I don’t know again, Mama promises.”

 Gertrud kissed him and pushed  off with her foot to start rocking at a steady pace. Soon, she was singing Oswald’s favourite lullaby:

The fire has gone  out, wet from snow above;

But nothing will warm me more than my, my mother’s love;

I light anther candle, dry the tears from my face;

Nothing can protect me more than my mother’s warm embrace;

The path ahead is dark, so dark I cannot see;

But I will not fear, cause my mother looks over me.

She sung the song twice. Yet, she must have fallen asleep during the 2nd round. For the next think she knew, her eyes were blinking open and her head was resting against the baseboard. Gertrud looked down to see that Oswald was also sound asleep. The teething ring had fallen out of Oswald’s mouth and into her lap. She took it and put it on the night stand before she stood up. Gently, as if not to wake him, she lowered the baby slowly in the crib removing her arms only at the very last moment. She smiled when her son stirred but did not awaken. Gertrud gave a moan of pleasure when she finally took off the shoes, she’d been wearing them all day. After unfolding the blanket, she always kept across her bed, she laid down and joined her son in     sleep. The kitchen window was left half open    so Gertrud could hear the children in the alley when school let out. It woke her up. Gertrud got up and made dinner. Where she checked on Oswald and found him awake, she placed him in his high chair and fed him.  After dinner, she         let him crawl around in front of while she sat on the couch with a calendar to fill inher work hours. Gertrud bit her lip and her eyes watered as she realised today’s date. Aside from the museum gala, it had been 1 whole year since she had seen Elijah. Scooping Oswald up, Gertrud held their son tightly to her.

 “What is it, boy?! Why are you   leering at me?!” Demanded an annoyed   Frederick.

Elijah looked up from his work. “Do you know what today is?”

Frederick shrugged. “Thursday?” he guessed   dismissively.

Elijah sighed. “Not quite. Today is the 1-year anniversary of the day you tore me and Gertrud apart.”

Frederick sighed. “We’re not going to talk about her again, are we?”

“Why? Are you ashamed of what you’ve done?”

“Why would I be ashamed?” Frederick chuckled cruelly. “I consider getting rid of that little tramp   one of the   finest things I’ve ever done. Besides, you’re better of without her.”

Elijah frowned. “You have been telling me that for an entire year! I’m   not better off, and I’m not over her. Sometimes, I think I’m dying without her!

“Don’t be so dramatic, Elijah, besides it’s your fault you’re miserable. Just let go of the memories.”

“I can’t let go of my memories! They all I have left! But how would you know? You’ll need a soul to understand!” Elijah then left and went up to his room, ignoring his father’s comments. “You’ll change your mind soon. It’s not liked your love is written in stone.”

Once he shut the door, he slid down the wall and sobbed in utter despair. He stayed in his room   for the rest of the day. After he got undressed and laid on the bed, reaching under the pillow for Gertrud’s picture.

 “Oh, my love. I swear if I knew where you are tonight, I would run out of this house and right into your arms.”

Elijah had a fitful night. He tossed and turned until he finally fell asleep. It was still night when Elijah awoke, but he was shockingly on   his feet. At some point, he had left his bed and went up the tower room, the site of Gertrud’s old bedroom. He shook his head and sighed. He was sleepwalking again. The room was cold, so Elijah reached down for the small rug next to the bed and wore it like a blanket around his shoulders. Then he laid on the bare mattress and fell into another restless sleep. Elijah awoke at dawn and while he watched the sunrise, he got an idea. Suddenly he rushed out of the house. He hurried out the gardens. Popping into the woodshed in search of a carving tool. He journeyed on to the old willow tree, under which he and Gertrud took their wedding vows, all those years ago. Elijah was about to start at the high top of the tree bark but then stopped. What if his father saw this? It was highly unlikely his father would take down this beautiful, centuries old tree just to spite him but Elijah was taking no chances. He had to make sure no one else saw this message. Paying no mind to the cold morning drew, Elijah soon lay on his stomach in the grass and was now face to face with the bottom of the trunk. The actual   carving was hard and took longer than he thought. Finally, after a hour and an half in the dim morning light, he  was finished. He stood back to admire his work. It read: ELIJAH + GERTRUD FOREVER within  a heart. Elijah smiled. His father was right; his love for Gertrud wasn’t written in stone but now, it was now embedded forever in wood.

[enygmah-blog1]

                       ❛   i  got  another  man’s  blood  on  my  clothes.  but  it  ain’t  his  fault,  it’s  the  life  i  chose.  this  ain’t  the  right  time  for  you  to  fall  in  love  with  me.  ❜

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